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robinrunsfiction · 4 years

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Baby, You’re A Haunted House

Pairing: Gerard Way x Female Reader Rating: General (TW for blood, mentions of a suicide) Requested By: None Word Count: 6,330 Author’s Note: Here is my first story for spooky season! I had hoped to have it up sooner, but life has been busy. This story has been in my mind since this spring. I intend on writing a little bit about the location it’s set in because it’s real! It really is a seminary that was converted into apartments in my hometown. I’ll link to the post here when it’s written. And yes, that is a picture of it below! Also!!! There is a reference to another one of my favorite bands and one of their albums, first person who can correctly point it out wins... a prize? My admiration? Not sure yet, but shout it out if you know it!

It all seemed too good to be true.

(YN)’s roommate had let her know that she was going to be moving out of town for a new job and the thought of looking for a new apartment or roommate was overwhelming. She was dreading the process, but the next day while eating her lunch at work, she spotted an ad in the paper for Holy Name Heights. The description stated the apartments were newly renovated and located in a historic building on the edge of town, so she called right away to set up a tour.

Later that week she was touring the building that had previously been a seminary for many years. The diocese had sold the second and third floors of the sprawling building to a developer who converted the rooms into apartments, while leaving the first floor as office spaces for the diocese, a Catholic charity organization, and a small museum about the history of the church’s presence in the area.

“This place is beautiful,” (YN) marveled at the space. While being only one bedroom, it was spacious, had a washer and dryer so she wouldn't need to haul her laundry anywhere, assigned parking, not to mention a beautiful view, but a question nagged at the back of her mind. “How much is it per month?”

“$850 per month including utilities,” the agent replied with a smile.

“Oh! Ok, yes, I’d love to apply!”

A few weeks later as (YN) was moving her things into her brand new third floor apartment, she realized how quiet the building was. She paused briefly at each door as she walked by, straining to hear if anyone else was there. As she arrived at her own door with another armload of boxes, the door next to hers opened and a dark haired man stepped out. She shot him a quick smile as she fumbled for her keys.

“Do you need some help?” He asked.

“That’d be great,” she laughed and he took the box from her so she could get her keys straightened out. “I’m (YN).”

“Gerard,” he replied as she got the door open and took the box back from him.

“Have you lived here long?”

“Just moved in last weekend. I’m glad I’m not the only one up here anymore.”

“Wait, seriously? None of these other apartments are occupied?”

“I don’t think so, I haven’t seen many people around. I guess an old seminary might be kind of a hard sell.”

“Yea, I’m not sure I would have considered it either if I wasn’t in a bind. Thanks for the help with the box,” (YN) smiled as she shifted it in her arms.

“No problem, I’ll see ya around,” he smiled before continuing down the hall.

“See ya,” she called after him. (YN) closed the door behind her and shook her head. Cool apartment, good price, cute neighbor. It all seemed too good to be true.

The next day (YN) got up, made a pot of coffee and set about unloading the box that held her mug collection. The fact that she didn’t have to share cupboards with a roommate delighted her, as she didn’t have to worry about any of her favorites getting damaged. She put on some music and made her way over to the living room window as the smell of brewing coffee filled the room.

Her view was of the front of the building. Trees with bare branches lined the hillside that the building sat upon and a long driveway led up to the front of the building. She loved knowing that the leaves would soon be filling those branches, and then in the fall they’d turn beautiful shades of gold, red and orange. She also liked the idea of being able to see who was coming and going up the driveway.

After enjoying her coffee, she got back to work unpacking her apartment. The hours flew by as the pile of broken down cardboard boxes piled up near her door. As she wiped her sweaty brow, she realized she had no idea what to do with the boxes and trash that had accumulated. Had the agent even shown her where the dumpsters were? Then she had an idea. Gerard.

Should she bother him? She didn’t even know for sure if he was in. She took a deep breath as she approached his door and knocked. She wondered how long she should wait if he wasn’t there, or didn’t want to answer. She’d never interacted much with the neighbors at her old apartment building, so maybe she was being totally obnoxious. (YN) was so deep in her own thoughts that she almost didn’t notice that the door was opening.

“Hey (YN), what’s up?”

“Hi, umm this is probably super dumb, but I don’t know where the recycling bins and dumpsters are. The agent never pointed them out, and I didn’t think to ask until I realized I was knee deep in broken down boxes,” she laughed nervously.

“I can help you carry boxes down,” Gerard offered with a smile.

“You don’t have to do that,” (YN) could feel herself blushing.

“It’s no problem.”

“I mean, if you insist!” (YN) laughed and he followed her back to her door. They each took an armload of boxes and Gerard led the way to the staircase that was at the end of the hallway next to his apartment. (YN) glanced over her shoulder at the dark portion of the staircase that led up to a door, most likely the attic. She quirked an eyebrow in curiosity but continued after Gerard.

“So what do you do?” (YN) asked, breaking the silence that hung between them as they headed down the stairs.

“I’m a comic book writer,” he replied almost sheepishly.

“Oh wow, that’s really cool,” (YN) replied genuinely and Gerard lit up.

“Thanks! A lot of people think it’s kinda lame, but it’s just a different type of writing, ya know?” (YN) nodded in agreement. “What do you do?”

“Boring office work,” she said shaking her head. “I wish I had time to do creative stuff like write or draw.”

“You should try, even if it’s just a little bit at a time,” he said as he opened the door leading out into the bright sunshine. “The dumpsters are back here.”

“Thanks,” (YN) smiled as she dropped her share into the recycling bin. "And maybe I'll try to find some time to write, if inspiration strikes."

"You'd be surprised how ideas can pop up when you least expect them," Gerard replied as they made their way back to their floor.

Winter started to melt into spring, and (YN) had settled into the routine of her new apartment life. Or at least she thought she was.

It quickly became clear that she must have been a lot more absentminded than she realized, and her old roommate must have been picking up her slack. She could have sworn she had more milk left when she put the carton back in the fridge, but when she grabbed it the next morning for her cereal there was almost none left. And then there were all the things that just seemed to disappear for no reason that never reappeared, no matter how hard she looked.

One thing that didn’t seem to disappear was her crush on her neighbor Gerard. Interacting with him also became part of her routine, as it always seemed they were running into each other walking into the building or by the mailboxes.

It just happened that it was one of those lucky days, as (YN) had just walked in with her bags from grocery shopping when Gerard walked by.

“Hey (YN),” he smiled.

“Gerard,” (YN) started, trying to stifle a laugh. “ I’m not trying to be mean, but do you know how to cook? I feel like I’ve only ever seen you with take out, but never groceries,” she said nodding to her own bags.

“I know how to cook! I am a functional adult,” he replied with feigned offense.

“If you say so, enjoy your dinner,” (YN) replied as she entered her apartment.

“I’ll prove it to you,” he called just as she was about to shut the door.

She poked her head out the door, eyebrows raised. “Oh really?”

“Tomorrow night? 7 o’clock?”

“I’ll be there,” she replied with a smile. When the door was shut behind her, she couldn’t help but let out a squeal of delight.

The next evening (YN) was digging through her drawers looking for the sweater she wanted to wear to dinner with Gerard, but she absolutely could not find it.

“This is crazy, I know I saw it when I was putting away laundry,” she muttered to herself. She got up and went over to the closet housing the washer and dryer, in hopes it had just fallen between the machines, or maybe was still in the dryer. She looked all around but found nothing, and trudged back to her room.

‘Wait, I didn’t turn the light off,’ she said, flipping the switch back on with a shake of her head. “I need to get more sleep.”

Giving up the search, she threw on a different top and checked the time. It was a few minutes past 7 and she hurried out the door.

“Welcome to my humble home,” Gerard said with a smile as he let (YN) in.

“Hmm, seems familiar,” (YN) giggled. “Oh dinner smells great!”

“Thank you,” Gerard smiled proudly. “We’ll be having spaghetti and meatballs. Umm, I don’t drink, so I have soda or water,” Gerard offered.

“Water is fine,” (YN) replied as she sat down at the table. “How’d you day go?”

“Good, I think I have a new story I wanna work on,” he answered as he placed plates on the table and sat down himself. “How about you.”

“Pretty boring actually. I’ll have to admit, knowing that we’re gonna be having dinner got me through my day.”

Gerard smiled and (YN) could have sworn she saw a blush creeping across his cheeks as he glanced down. "I'm glad I could help."

Conversation lulled as they dug into their meals, and The Smashing Pumpkins played softly in the background.

"Ok, I have to apologize for that dig yesterday about you not cooking, this is very good,” (YN) smiled.

"I have to admit, I bought the sauce, and the meatballs were frozen," Gerard winced.

“That’s fine! I do the same,” she laughed and Gerard looked relieved.

(YN) was having a wonderful time hanging out with Gerard and she felt like she could listen to him talk forever. He spoke with such passion and enthusiasm, it drew her in and she hung on his words. They laughed and joked and the time flew by until (YN) found herself stifling a yawn and she glanced down at her watch.

"Oh, it's late! I should get outta your hair."

“Well m’lady,” he said, affecting the same posh accent they had been joking around in earlier and bowing before her, “I do hope this evening has lived up to all your expectations.”

“It most certainly has,” she said with a laugh as she curtseyed holding out an imaginary skirt.

Gerard reached out and took her hand in his and placed a kiss to the back of it, catching her off guard as he looked up at her from behind his lashes. "I hope we can do it again sometime soon."

(YN) nodded. "Yea," she said almost breathlessly. "I'd love that."

Gerard walked her to the door and when she glanced back at him when she reached her own door, he was leaning against his door frame.

"Night," she waved before walking into her apartment and he smiled and waved back.

(YN) could hardly sleep that night, as she was absolutely buzzing.

Weekly dinners soon became a tradition between (YN) and Gerard, with both of them taking turns hosting the other. (YN) knew she was terrible at both flirting and picking up when others were flirting with her, but she couldn't help but feel like Gerard might just like her too.There was something about the way his friendly hugs and touches started to linger longer and longer.

One night when they had been hanging out Gerard had casually mentioned going to hang out with his brother on his birthday, so (YN) took it upon herself to bring him his present before he left that day. As she stood at his door, she felt just as nervous as the first time she was at his door asking for help with her boxes. Once again she was totally lost in thought when Gerard opened the door.

"Hey (YN)!" He greeted her.

"Hi! Happy birthday!" She smiled, holding out the plate of chocolate chip cookies and the card she picked out just for him.

"You remembered my birthday?" He asked, his eyes going wide and pink dusting his cheeks.

"Of course I did!" She laughed. “How could I forget?” She added a little more softly.

The smile grew on Gerard’s face and (YN)’s heart fluttered. “Thanks,” he finally replied, shaking his head. “Hey (YN), I was wondering, if umm, you’d like to maybe like go out on a date, like a real date some time? Don’t feel like you have to say yes just because it’s my birthday.”

(YN) laughed again, and she could feel herself blushing. “Yea, that would be really nice,” she nodded. “And I definitely would have said yes, even if it wasn’t your birthday.”

“Great!” Gerard grinned, but the buzzing of his phone grabbed his attention. "Oh, Mikey's here."

"Have fun with him," (YN) smiled and waved as she turned to go while Gerard grabbed his jacket and keys.

"Wait," Gerard said as he locked the door and jogged over to her, just as she was reaching her door. She looked up at him expectantly and he seemed nervous again before leaning in and placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Thanks again for the card."

"No problem," (YN) smiled before ducking into her own apartment to swoon.

A few days later, it was finally the day of their first date. Gerard suggested they go to the art museum and grab coffee. Even though they hung out all the time, the fact that this was actually a date made things ever so slightly awkward. As they walked into the museum, their hands brushed a few times before Gerard took her hand in his. She glanced over and smiled up at him and he seemed relieved. They chatted and joked happily as they walked through the exhibits before they went down the street to the cafe.

Finding a table tucked away from the others, they settled in with their coffees. The sun that had been shining when they walked in was soon covered in dark heavy clouds, and big heavy raindrops began to beat at the windows. Something about it made a shiver run down (YN)'s spine, a feeling she’d almost grown accustomed to.

"Gerard, can I ask you something kinda weird?" She asked when there was a lull in the conversation.

"Sure," he nodded.

(YN) sighed and looked down. "This is gonna sound crazy, and maybe I'm going crazy, but sometimes things get moved in my apartment, or I feel like someone or something is watching me. I've checked every inch of it and there's nothing there, but I dunno. Have you ever felt that in your apartment?" She finally looked up and was startled by Gerard's expression.

"Yea," he said softly, a look of unease on his face. "I totally know what you mean. I notice it when I’m at your place mostly, but sometimes when you come around," he trailed off.

"But, I mean, ghosts and stuff aren’t real though, right? Like It’s probably just the vibe of it being an old building.”

“Yea,” Gerard nodded with a tight smile. “Ghosts aren’t real, vampires aren’t gonna hurt you, zombies aren’t gonna eat your brain while you’re at the mall.”

“Right! You are right. I’m sure it will pass.”

After the rain stopped, they headed back to their building and headed up to the third floor, stopping in front of her door.

“I had a lot of fun today,” (YN) smiled.

“Me too,” Gerard nodded. “I, I really like you (YN). I hope we can do this again.”

(YN) grinned and nodded. “I really like you too Gee, and yes I’d really love to go out again as well.”

Gerard’s face lit up, any nervousness alleviated. He reached up, cupping her cheek gently, as her eyelids fluttered closed. He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers softly, before pulling back just as quick.

“I can’t wait to do that again,” Gerard whispered.

“Then do it again,” she replied.

Gerard didn’t hesitate for a second longer, leaning back in and kissing her deeply as she kissed back. His hand found her waist as she clutched his jacket. When they finally pulled back, they were both breathless and smiling.

(YN) knew that it was the start of something special.

Summer arrived with warm weather and abundant sunshine, but that didn’t stop the cold drafts that would breeze through (YN)’s apartment, even when the air conditioning was off. But then the noises started. Thumps and knocks in the middle of the night, jolting her awake. Once she was convinced someone was hammering frantically on her door. In the middle of the night. She jumped out of bed and rushed to the door, checking through the peephole to see who was there. But there was no one.

The solution that seemed to be working best was spending as much time away from the apartment, specifically out with Gerard. From picnics in the park, to going to movies, cafes, wandering around book stores or comic book shops for hours, (YN) loved every moment of it.

One evening they were watching a movie in her apartment, happily curled up on the couch together when the thumps in the wall began behind them.

“What was that?” Gerard asked, startled.

(YN) sighed. “No idea. It’s been like this for a while now. I called the maintenance guy, but he doesn't think anything is in the walls. It’s why I’ve been so tired lately, I haven’t been sleeping, like at all.”

“Do you wanna come stay over at my place tonight? Maybe you’ll sleep better,” he offered.

(YN) smiled back at him. “Ok sure,” she nodded. When the movie was over, she changed into pajamas and they made their way back over to his apartment for the night. The next morning when she woke up, she stretched and sighed happily as Gerard held her close.

“Sleep well?” Gerard asked sleepily.

“Mmhmm,” she replied, looking up at him. She reached up and brushed away the hair that was falling across his face. “Best I have in a long time.”

“You’re welcome here anytime you want, sugar,” he said leaning in and kissing her sweetly.

"I worry that I'll overstay my welcome if I’m over here that often," (YN) laughed.

"Not possible, sugar," he said with a smile. "I love getting to spend my nights with you. Days too. I guess what I’m trying to say is I love you, (YN)."

“I love you too Gerard,” she replied before leaning in and kissing him deeply.

September arrived and Gerard was going to be gone for the weekend with a few of his friends on a guy’s trip for his brother Mikey’s birthday. (YN) was a little nervous at first about being alone at night, to the point where she was considering going to visit her parents for the weekend. Surprisingly, she was able to sleep through the night without any noises or strange occurrences waking her up.

The next morning she got up and went to retrieve a mug from the cupboard for her morning coffee. Without warning, a glass flew down from the top shelf, smashing into her forehead. (YN) yelped in surprise and stumbled back, glass shards littering the floor. Tentatively she reached up and touched just above her brow and when she pulled back, her fingers were covered in blood.

"Shiiiiit," she groaned as she carefully stepped over the broken glass on the floor and made her way to the bathroom. Flipping on the light, she felt nauseous at the sight. Blood dripping from the gash landed and streaked down her cheek like tears, accenting the dark circles under her eyes that she just couldn't shake after so many nights of interrupted sleep. She looked like death.

"Gee must really love me if this is what he's looking at every day," she muttered as she dabbed away at the blood with a washcloth.

A few hours later while walking out the emergency department with a fresh set of stitches, she decided she may as well fill in Gerard.

Happy friday! guess where i just left!

From Gerard 💖: Work let you take a half day?

Hospital 😬

She dropped her phone back into her purse as she made her way across the parking lot, but by the time she got the door unlocked, Gerard was calling her.

"What happened?!" He asked frantically as soon as she picked up.

(YN) sighed. "A glass fell out of my cupboard and I got a cut above my eyebrow. Just a couple stitches and I wanted to make sure they got all the glass out," she replied, downplaying the accident. She knew he'd be back in a few days and he'd know she wasn't telling the whole truth about the cut, but she didn't want him to worry or end his trip early.

"But you're ok? Do you want me to come back?"

"Yes, I'm ok. But no, don't cut your trip short, I'm gonna go straight over to my parents for the rest of the weekendI think. It's one thing when we're losing sleep with weird noises, it's another to be attacked like this."

"You… you think," he sighed, seeming to be choosing his words carefully. "That a ghost did it?" Gerard asked in a hushed tone.

"If the glass was off balance and simply fell out of the cupboard it would have gone straight down. This was thrown at me, Gee. There was force behind it."

"Fuck," Gerard muttered. "I'm sorry sugar."

"Don't worry, I'm ok, I promise."

(YN) was grateful that Gerard believed what she told him about the haunting of her apartment. He could have easily dismissed her or her fears as crazy and ghost her, but he didn't. He was just as concerned about the situation and her wellbeing. After that weekend they began talking about moving out as soon as their leases were up.

It had been a couple weeks when Gerard had a meeting in the city that was going to run late into the evening, so (YN) was stuck spending the night alone in her own apartment for the first time since the attack.

As she got in bed, she wondered how long it would be before she would be woken up at night. The noises always managed to cut right through her slumber to wake her, no matter how exhausted she was when she fell asleep. And exhausted she was as her eyelids were heavy as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She wasn't sure what time it was when the noise woke her up, but she sat up in bed and looked at the ceiling. It sounded like skittering, and she wondered if it might be something as innocent as an animal stuck in the attic. 'Wouldn't it be something if it was some animal all along,' she thought as she laid back down and closed her eyes again.

What felt like only moments later she opened them again, but she was not in her room. She wasn’t even in her apartment.

“Gerard?”

He looked up from where he was sitting on the floor in front of his couch with a look of concern and fear on his face unlike any she had seen before. “(YN), are you ok?”

“No, I’m- why am I in your apartment?”

“I was asleep and some noise up in the attic woke me up, but before I could fall back asleep there was this loud bang and I went up to check what was going on because it sounded different from anything before, and you were up there on the floor like you fainted. You didn't even stir until just now when you woke up.”

(YN) shook her head. “I heard the noise too, but I went back to sleep, I didn’t even get out of bed, I went right back to sleep until I just woke up here. What could have made me faint if I wasn't even awake and can’t remember what I saw?”

Gerard ran his hand through his hair, considering her question and when he spoke, his voice shook slightly. “I… I dunno (YN). After I brought you down from the attic, I went back to your apartment so I could put you in your own bed and your door was locked.”

“But that’s not possible unless I took my keys and locked it behind me. Should we go up and look for them upstairs?”

“No!” Gerard said quickly. “I mean, I don’t want to make you stay here if you don’t want, we can call the maintenance line to let you in, but I don’t wanna go up there again. Tonight, I mean.”

(YN) climbed off the couch and sat next to him on the floor. “I’ll stay here, you know that's fine but,” she paused, taking a deep breath. “What did you see up there Gee?”

He shook his head, looking down at his hands. “We can talk about it in the morning? It’s late.”

(YN) swallowed hard and nodded. "Yea, that's a good idea."

Gerard got up, offered her a hand, helping her up. He placed a kiss to the back of her hand before leading the way to his room.

(YN) always felt safe with Gerard's arms wrapped around her holding her tight, but it was still a very poor night of sleep for both of them. The next morning (YN) and Gerard were sitting in his living room, sipping coffee in silence before (YN)'s curiosity got the best of her.

"Can you tell me what you saw up there now?" (YN) asked suddenly.

Gerard looked up at her, the dark circles under his eyes matching hers. He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Do you really wanna know?"

(YN) nodded. "I wanna understand what happened last night. Well as much of it as I can."

Gerard drew a deep breath. "Ok. I went up there when I heard the second bang. I was kinda surprised the door was open. And then I was shining my flashlight around and," he drew in a breath and shook his head. "I thought I saw someone at the far end of the attic, but my flashlight went through him. I started to panic and that's when I realized you were on the floor. I grabbed you and carried you back down here and, well you know the rest."

"You saw the ghost?" (YN) asked, her voice cracking with fear.

Gerard nodded solemnly. "I think so."

Gerard's words kept ringing through (YN)'s mind. There was no denying it now, she was being haunted by a ghost. She was, generally speaking, freaked out about the whole situation, but also a little curious. That's when she remembered the museum on the first floor.

The space was small, no larger than an office. Shelves were filled with books and bibles, and old black and white photos lined the walls, but one picture stood out as different from the rest. An elderly woman stood before it, gazing up at the portrait of the young man.

"Excuse me, do you know any of the history of this building?"

The elderly woman tore her eyes off the photo and looked back at (YN). "Well, I should say I do. What can I help you with?"

"I don't know how to ask this delicately, but, umm, is there any reason to believe that it might be haunted?"

The elderly woman nodded slowly. "Well, yes, I suppose there would be," she replied before glancing back at the portrait. "This was my brother, Joshua. He was in the seminary and was going to become a priest when he met her."

"Her?"

"Elenora. She was beautiful," she paused, studying (YN) for a moment, "actually you remind me of her. But he was so conflicted, he wanted to be a priest, but he was so enchanted by her. He convinced himself, and her, that the only way they could be together was in death."

"Oh no," (YN) gasped.

She nodded. "They were to jump together from the roof. He went first, she never went."

"I'm so sorry," she replied softly.

"It was 60 years ago. I had known Elenora my whole life, so I blamed myself for introducing her into his life, but I didn't blame her! I still don't. I don't admit this to many people, but we're still friends."

"You have a very forgiving heart," (YN) smiled. "Thank you for telling me all that."

She nodded. "That is what I am here for," she replied as she walked around to a small desk and picked up a dust rag before turning back to one of the shelves.

(YN) made her way back to her apartment and shut the door. "Joshua, if that's you, please leave me alone," she said.

Nothing happened and (YN) shrugged.

The cool fall weather settled in and October was filled with the warm glow of red, yellow, and orange leaves on the trees outside, but by Halloween, the branches were blown bare, leaving dark, imposing branches reaching toward the sky.

Gerard's friend Frank invited them to his house for a Halloween party, and to celebrate his birthday.

A night out, dressed as Bonnie and Clyde, was exactly what they both needed after all the time they spent living in a real life haunted house for almost a year now. (YN) also loved spending time with Gerard's friends. They quickly made her feel welcome and made her future with Gerard seem even better.

It wasn't too terribly late when they decided to call it a night and headed home. "I'm gonna go change and I'll be over," (YN) said before heading into her apartment. Gerard nodded and headed to his own door.

She kicked off her shoes and dropped her jacket over the back of the chair when she felt a cold rush of air blow past her. She closed her eyes as a shiver ran through her whole body. When she opened them, again the cold air was surrounding her, wind blowing her skirt around as a freezing rain started to pelt her arms and face. Frantically she looked around, realizing she was on a rooftop. Before she could get her bearings, phantom hands were on her, pushing and pulling her toward the edge.

"No! No! Get off of me! Let go!" She screamed, flailing her arms, trying to shake off the attack. She seemed to break free and started to run toward the hatch to the attic.

The hands grabbed her ankle and sent her tumbling to the rough surface of the roof. When she looked over her shoulder, a figure made of a shadowy mist was pulling her by the leg toward the edge.

"No! Stop it! No!" She screamed again, her hands scratching at the roof, trying to make purchase.

From behind her she heard a bang. She looked up and saw Gerard at the opening to the attic. "(YN)!"

"Gee! Help!"

"Let her go!" Gerard commanded as he ran to (YN), pulling her off the ground and wrapping her in his arms protectively. She buried her face against his shoulder as she clutched his shirt. "Are you ok? I got you sugar, you’re safe now."

"No, no I'm not ok," she sobbed.

"Come on, let's get inside."

Gerard helped her down the ladder and carried her down the stairs to his apartment. He set her down in the bathroom and set to work cleaning the cuts across her hands, legs, and feet.

"Gee, I don't wanna stay here tonight, I can’t stay here anymore, I have to move or I’m gonna end up dead!" (YN) cried as Gerard wiped the blood away from her palm.

"I know sugar, I'll get you cleaned up and we'll go find a hotel room tonight, ok?" (YN) sniffled and nodded in agreement. “And then in the morning we’re gonna find a new place to live, you and me.”

(YN) had been watching as he worked, but hearing him say that she looked up at him. “Together? Even after all this? What if it follows me?!"

He reached up and wiped away the tears that were rolling down her cheek. “Together. Nothing's gonna come between us, not even a ghost."

A smile finally broke across her face as he placed bandages on the worst cuts. Then she finally changed out of her soaked and bloodied Halloween costume and into a pair of Gerard's sweatpants and an old hoodie. She didn't have shoes, but she didn't care. She wasn't going back into her apartment until the day she was going back to pack it up and move out. And even then, she was considering hiring someone to do it for her.

"Ready to go?" He asked when she walked out of his room.

"Let’s get away from here," she nodded and he took her hand. They hurried through the cold rain to his car and she sighed as she sunk into the passenger seat. She finally felt free.

Gerard started down the long tree-lined drive when suddenly a large tree limb came crashing down in front of them. (YN) screamed as Gerard slammed on the breaks.

"Shit! Are you ok?" He asked breathlessly.

"Look!" She whimpered, pointing a shaking finger out the window. Gerard looked as well at the ghastly figure on the other side of the branch. Gerard put the car in park and unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Gee, what are you doing? Gee? Gerard! Stop it, get back in here!" She cried frantically as he got out of the car. Not knowing what else to do, she scrambled out as well.

"Give her to me!" The phantom wailed, striking cold terror through her. "I gave my life for my love, she belongs to me!"

"This is not your love!" Gerard shouted back.

She moved to stand next to Gerard, interlacing her fingers with his. "I'm not Elenora! I've never done you wrong!" She pleaded. "Gerard is my true love! Let us pass!"

The phantom's face contorted, snarling, teeth growing long, fingers becoming claw-like. (YN) screamed in fright as Gerard stepped in front of her. As the ghost launched at them, headlights came up the drive, shining bright in their eyes, and the phantom faded into nothing.

The other car stopped and the driver got out. "Need help moving that branch outta the way? Woah, you two look like you've seen a ghost," the man laughed.

Gerard shook his head and looked back at (YN) sympathetically. "Well, it is Halloween."

A few months later (YN) and Gerard had settled into their new place. There was nothing in the new place that (YN) would describe as too good to be true. Their commutes were longer, they had to go to the laundromat to do laundry, and they were paying more in rent, but they were together and they finally had peace. And that was worth every penny.

“Hey Gee,” (YN) said as she padded into the living room one Saturday afternoon, holding something behind her back.

“Yea sugar?”

“So I’ve been working on something. I’m not sure it’s any good, but I think it’s finally ready for you to look at.”

Gerard sat up and looked up at her curiously. “What is it?” (YN) handed him a binder. “The Haunting on Holy Name Hill."

“A long time ago, back when we first met, you said I should try writing or drawing if I’m interested in it because you never know when inspiration will strike, and since moving out of that awful place I’ve been trying to wrap my head around everything that happened. So I started writing about it," she shrugged. "I fictionalized some of the events and changed our names, but can you read it and tell me if it’s any good?”

“(YN) I’m so proud of you,” he said with a smile as he got up and wrapped her in a hug. “I’m gonna read it right now.”

“If you insist. I’m gonna go to the laundromat.”

A while later when (YN) came back, Gerard wasn’t on the couch where she’d left him. “Hey Gee, did you finish reading it yet?”

“Yep,” she heard him reply as he came back from the second bedroom they’d set up as his office. “And I have something to show you too.”

“What’s that?”

“First of all, wow, the story is so well written!” he grinned.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, you’re a natural! And second, look,” he said handing her a stack of drawings.

“What are these?”

“I was thinking, if you want, we could pitch your story as a graphic novel and these are some drawings I did when I was reading it. This is your character, this one is me.”

“Gee, these are amazing! And you really think that it’s publishable?”

“I really do,” he nodded.

“Ok yea, let’s do it. Other than being the place where we met, there should be some kind of good that comes from that awful place. And maybe serve as a warning to everyone else about things that seem too good to be true."

#gerard way x reader #gerard way fan fic #gerard way fan fiction #gerard way imagine #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fan fiction

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sleekervae · 3 years

Text

The Neighbour [0.4]

Masterlist

The first thing Eva did when she came home was finish downloading the rest of Palaye Royale's discography. It was as though pushing the arrow on the saturation scale and suddenly her apartment with skeleton white walls and empty shadows was bursting with a new variety of rich colors. Songs that pulled back the whites in her eyes and forced open her ears to this new euphoria that was rattling through her brain and body like a pinball game.

The band's music drifted through the apartment for the rest of the night, tracks on a loop that was sure to make the tenants upstairs despise her. By the time she finished cooking dinner for herself she was lost in the cynical poetry of Warhol, entranced by the echoing of Remington's rasping screams that were never out of tune. And while she was supposed to be working on her latest article, Eva was instead watching the video for Lonely, the entire time feeling like her throat had been ripped out by a bare fist and forced to watch it beat out.

All in all, Dying in a Hot Tub took the crown for favorite. On a Saturday night, when she would usually be out with friends and drinking her problems away at the local bar, Eva was dancing through her apartment, pretending to sing along to the miserable and comprehensive words. A glass of cheap white wine sat on the counter, aiding in her inhibitions for having a rock concert in her living room. Pluto wasn't having any of it, retreating to his bed and ignoring her for most of the night.

Meanwhile, holed up in his own bedroom Remington scrolled through the Tumblr blog that Eva told him about: posts filled with poetry and proses that had him hooked as sure as he was doing drugs. Each post told a story, ranging from questions about her femininity, difficulties in growing up with an absent mother and a know-it-all dad, the first boy she had who humped and dumped her after prom. Remington wanted to read it all, falling deeper into the rabbit hole of Eva Kuznetsov.

His focus shifted from text to music when he heard a familiar sound: that sound being his own voice. The faint echo of words he was singing to crowds not months ago were suddenly swirling in the air, and when he turned to the complex, he found he had a clear view of Eva dancing away under the golden lights of her apartment. She had the screen door opened, not big enough for Pluto to squeeze through, but enough so he could hear the muffled music from his room. He knew he had pretty open access to Eva; he just didn't realize that he could see right into her space.

Which meant she could probably see into his room, too...

It was mesmerizing to watch her, spinning, jumping, her hair pirouetting around the sharp edges of her perfect jaw, all the while smiling and pretending to sing along. It was the most endearing thing Remington had seen in a long time, watching the real Eva come to life. She was uninhibited by people and impressions, dressed down in a pair of little cotton shorts and her hoodie, she was absolutely crazy and perfect.

Mischief soon got the better of Remington and he reached for his phone, eagerly selecting her number and typing. Across the way, Eva stopped dancing when the music dipped, indicating that she received a text on her phone. Brushing her winded hair out of her face, she grabbed her phone off the desk, her face going beet red when she was Remington's text:

Nice dance moves, Frances Houseman

She glanced up through the glass sliding door, mortified when she realized Remington could see her this whole time. Illuminated by the glow of the street lamp, his boyish smile seemed to shine brighter, clearly amused with this late-night entertainment. She took a deep breath and turned down the volume of the music, trying to collect herself.

How much of that did you see?

He responded not even ten seconds later:

Enough to know your hips clearly don't lie.

Shut up

And if I may ask, why are you looking through my window?

I can't help it. I'm vain enough that I get distracted by my own damn voice

Or you're just a fucking creeper

The fact that you haven't closed the curtain tells me you don't seem to mind an audience ;)

A familiar warmth spread through the pit of her stomach and Eva began to giggle uncontrollably; like a child that had been caught stealing a cookie from the jar and was so on edge she couldn't help but laugh. Stupid her for not closing the curtain.

Well I'm sorry, but the show is over now

She then went to the window to close the curtain, flipping off the smirking blonde as she shut out the rest of the world. Remington only laughed to himself, quickly texting back:

But the memories will live on in my brain

Fuck you, Leith!!

I think you should buy me a drink first, Kuznetsov

Eva just shook her head as she read his last message, downing the rest of her wine with a rose-tinted cheeks. Even with the music off, she still had Remington's soft raspy voice ringing in her head as she decided it was time to turn in. She couldn't help but start singing to herself.

"But I'm dying in a hot tub, I'm dying in a hot tub with my cat!" she lunged down and pointed both hands at Pluto. Pluto was unfazed, just staring at her with an unemotive expression. Eva's smile turned into a scowl.

"Well, fuck you too, then,"

✧✧✧

May brought the promise of vibrant flowers, bikini bodies and so many reasons for people to go out and mingle with their friends at the beaches and clubs.

Well... that was the case a year ago...

In Remington's mind, he and his friends had no need to go down to the beach and risk contracting Covid when he had a perfectly safe and clean pool and patio in his backyard. And within the last two and some weeks, he had succeeded in bringing Eva around more and more.

She got along great with everybody, which had Remington confused as to why she said she had it rough with friends. But everybody seemed to like her, and soon enough she had assimilated into their little pod. She started just with sitting outside with everyone, and when she was comfortable enough she came and hung out inside the house. Afternoons were either spent by the pool or watching TV shows and eating snacks. And the more she stayed over, the more Remington became fascinated with her.

Even Emerson and Sebastian couldn't deny that there was something about Eva that was unique; she was sparkplug of quick witticisms and lame jokes that people would laugh at just because she was so cute. She was mature way beyond her years, and yet she still had fun like a teenager trying to find themselves in high school. More than anything, the boys were curious to how close Eva and Remington were slowly becoming.

Remington liked hanging out in Eva's apartment. The environment held a different kind of vibe; like an aesthetic post you'd tag on Pinterest under a renovations gallery. But Remington was inside Eva's world, seeing the random art pieces she had hung on the walls and getting to hang with Pluto on the couch. He helped her bake when they couldn't think of anything else to do, and she always insisted he'd bring some home even when he assured her that he didn't need it. She was kind, homely, a woman with a clean soul and dirty mind who could make him laugh and didn't care when he openly belched after a soda.

Despite the pandemic, Remington was excited for his birthday. Any other time, he was at a bar or a house party with his friends, drinking until he couldn't feel his legs or ending up face-deep in a grimy toilet bowl. Even though the party wouldn't be as fun as it usually would be, Remington was looking forward to at least spend his birthday with his closest family and friends, only.

Eva wished she could have had the same optimism Remington did, but the Saturday before his birthday, she was none too pleased to find that the drain to her kitchen sink was leaking water. And apparently, it wasn't her landlord's job to come up and fix it for her.

"You want me to come take a crack at it?" Remington asked when Eva explained the situation.

Eva's phone was on speaker as she tried to navigate the utility box in the closet to turn off her water.

"Do you have experience in sink maintenance?" she asked.

"I don't," Remington admitted, "But that's what Youtube is for, right?"

Eva simpered, "As entertaining as it would be watch you destroy my sink, I respectfully decline,"

"You think too low of me, Eva," he whined.

"I just know you better than you think, Remington," she replied smartly, "I got a plumber coming by, anyway. And he can't get here 'til six for some reason so I'll be down a shower day,"

Remington's eyebrows furrowed down, "He's coming at six at night?" he asked.

"Yeah," Eva replied, seemingly clueless to the skepticism in his voice.

"What plumber makes house calls after five o'clock?" he said.

Eva stopped short, "Well, he's an independant freelancer. Makes his own hours, I guess,"

"You hired a fucking freelancer to come fix your sink?" he said incredulously.

"He's what I can afford," she replied.

"So he didn't come from an agency?"

"Nope!" Eva huffed, satisfied when she finally figured out how to turn off the water dial, "He came from Letgo,"

It was then Remington had a sinking feeling in his gut. He didn't blame Eva that she didn't want to splurge her money on a plumber, but the thought of her alone with a strange man -- who mostly carried a multitude of heavy tools -- made his hair stand on end.

"Maybe I'll come by and wait with you while he does the job," he said.

"Why?" Eva asked.

"Because you're a small girl letting a strange man into your apartment after hours," he replied.

Eva turned to her window, still having a firm view of Remington's empty, but messy bedroom, "You were a strange guy I let into my apartment," she countered.

"And now you have concrete proof that I'm not a creep, I'm just a little weirdo," he replied, "I'd just feel better being there with you, is all,"

Eva shrugged, understanding where he was coming from yet assuring herself that he was overthinking it, "I mean, if you wanna'... sure,"

"Great!" Remington grinned, "I'll be by before six,"

The early afternoon soon delved into the night, and just as he promised, Remington was at Eva's apartment ten minutes before six.

And the plumber was late.

Eva attributed it to traffic when the clock hit ten after, but then she was annoyed by twenty after. What was he possibly doing that he was twenty minutes late for a pay grab? Remington didn't say anything, though the knot in his stomach got tighter as the minutes ticked by. And when Eva assured him that he didn't need to stay, he simply shook his head and declined.

"The only way you're getting me out of this apartment is with a fucking pitchfork," he told her, smirking with pride. Eva only rolled her eyes.

It was finally quarter to seven when a battered, unlabelled black pickup truck pulled up in front of the complex. And just as Remington feared, a rather large man came falling out of the truck and started trudging his way inside. He carried no tools with him.

Both Remington and Eva had their masks on and the windows open as the plumber came inside. He was portly, older, and he wore the mask just under his nose; a particular pet peeve of Eva's. He was polite as he greeted the kids, narrowing his eyes at Remington. The whole time he was there, Remington made sure to keep Eva close to him.

"So, what seems to be the trouble?" the plumber asked, coming over to the sink but looking around slowly at the knick knacks and furniture within the apartment.

"Well, I'm not sure. It just started leaking all of the sudden," Eva shrugged.

The plumber glanced at the faucet, then took a look under the counter to the pipes. Eva began to understand why Remington was so eager to come over, now. He stayed well on his knees for longer than needed, not pulling out a flashlight to see in the dark shadows. Even Pluto seemed to sense something was off about this character, he leapt onto the top of the couch where he had a full vantage point of the typical case of plumber's crack.

The plumber finally sat back from his inspection, turning to the two kids, "I see what the problem is. I gotta' get my other tools from my truck, though," he said.

Eva and Remington glanced at each other with uncertainty, "... Okay," she drawled, "We'll, um -- we'll be here, I guess,"

"Okay," he forced himself back on his feet and exited out the door.

Not two seconds later, Remington heard the faint carry of voices in the hallways; a couple by the sounds of it. He took a look into the hall, indeed finding a pair of Eva's neighbours unlocking their door as the door to the stairwell slammed closed.

A few minutes passed, but Eva was confused when she heard the revving of an engine outside. She went to go look out her window, and sure enough, the black pickup truck was speeding away. Needless to say, she was shocked.

"What the fuck!?" she exclaimed, "He left!"

Remington came to look as well, not surprised but his fears quelled as he watched the truck disappear around the corner.

"Good," he said, "Truth be told, I'm pretty sure he wasn't here to fix the sink,"

Eva pulled her face mask off, "What, you think he wanted to rob me?" she asked.

"Or something a little more vile," Remington nodded, simultaneously pulling off his own mask, "He clearly didn't like the fact that I was here,"

Eva's face paled for a moment, now grateful she had let Remington in when he asked. How did he know, though?

"How did you know he wasn't legit?" she asked.

Remington scrunched his nose, "Well, first of all he's coming by at six -- well, seven o'clock on a weekend. Second of all, you found him on Letgo,"

Eva shrugged, "I don't trust Craigslist,"

"Because Letgo is any more reliable?" he raised his eyebrows with a petty grin, "This is the part where you say 'thank you for looking out for me, Remington',"

Eva narrowed her eyes at him, "Thanks for coming by, ya' smug shit," she glanced out the window again, "You think he's going to come back?"

"Not now that he thinks I'm here, too," Remington replied, "Like I'd leave my girlfriend alone with a strange guy at seven at night. In a fucking pandemic, too," he scoffed.

Eva looked at him quizzically, "... I'm not your girlfriend," she drawled.

"But he doesn't have to know that," he grinned back.

Eva had to admit, she was impressed. And moreover, quite grateful for Remington's persistence -- though she wouldn't tell him that.

"Aw, I have such a smart boyfriend!" she gushed sarcastically, clasping her hands together before going to fetch her Lysol spray.

Remington simply sat back down on the couch, feeling pretty damn good about himself now, "Anything for my baby!" he exclaimed happily.

"Shut up,"

#palaye royale #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fic #remington leith #Remington Leith imagine #emerson barrett #sebastian danzig #boy bands #band imagines #band blog #band imagine blog #original story #original female character

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inkribbon796 · 3 years

Text

Suits & Smoke

Summary: Wedding planning shopping, starring the conflicting views of Dark and Roman.

Eric was used to being nervous and twitchy. But walking into a suit shop, with Dark and Illinois was nerve wracking. Roman was trailing behind him, forced to make the first of what would be many, many concessions. Both Roman and Eric were in masks.

Roman was already starting to push for flashier, glittery suits and after a second’s hesitation from Eric, Dark had swooped in to offer an alternative.

The Entity had asked for Eric’s measurements for a suit and found out that not only did Eric not know, which was a common thing and Dark expected that he wouldn’t know, but Eric didn’t own a suit.

Upon hearing that however Dark ordered it to immediately be corrected. A nice black suit and they could have Eric’s measurements on record for the wedding suit or whatever else Eric wanted to wear.

Illinois was on the fence about wearing a black or white tux. Due to being raised by Wil and Dark he had a literally rainbow of suits in his closet, so it wasn’t like he had to run out and get a new suit or tux for the occasion.

Eric was right now a living dress up doll for Dark and Roman to argue over. They went being loud or angry. But they were disagreeing.

“Nonsense,” Dark insisted, snapping his fingers and Eric was in a dark black tux with an off-silver vest. “Everyone in the world should wear a dark tux at all times.”

“So says the man who came to a meeting in a pink suit because he was tired and couldn’t be assed to get out of his boyfriend’s suit that he slept in and no one called him out on it because they couldn’t see the actual color.” Illinois snorted.

Dark’s face blushed a dark grey out of embarrassment, Roman and Eric gasped in amused shock as Dark sputtered in anger. “How dare you.”

“What color is your suit?” Roman asked.

The Entity pulled off his suit to reveal a black suit coat. “None of your business. We’re done talking about it.”

Then he put his suit back on and gestured to Eric. “Now if no one have a better idea, then we’ll go with this. Dashing. Elegant. Useful for every occasion.”

“Ughhhhhhh,” Roman groaned, dramatically flopping in his chair before getting an idea and jumping up in excitement. “Ooh! Ooooh! I have a brilliant idea.”

He waved his hand and Eric’s shirt turned into a deep red, almost giving Dark a heart attack. Illinois looked at Dark in concern.

“A nice red,” Roman clapped in excitement with a black and gold paisley vest. “Simple. Sharp. Sweet.”

“Absolutely not!” Dark spat angry and snapped his fingers, his aura sucking all the color out of it and hiding it from Dark’s eye. His echoes agitated. “I’d sooner let him wear a neon teal jumpsuit than that.”

“What’s wrong with red?” Roman hugged, offended, gesturing to his red sash. “Or teal for that matter, it’s a lovely color.”

“Everything!” Dark spat in a rage, his violent ringing accenting the clear fury in his fracturing echoes.

“Hey, hey,” Illinois tried to soothe, he’d watched Eric flinch and hunch in on himself, and so he immediately stepped in. “No red, we don’t have to go with red.”

“Shouldn’t the groom wearing the suit be the one who decides that?” Roman asked, a bit defensively since he knew they were all talking over Eric who had barely said a couple of words since the real argument over the suit began. And Roman might have felt a little bad about treating Eric like their personal Ken doll.

“Uh, umm,” Eric’s stammer was in full force as the attention was narrowed onto him. “R-Red, it— umm, I . . .”

Illinois turned to look at Eric, trying to make himself the only thing in Eric’s line of sight but not make him feel like he was backed into a corner. “Eric, dulcito, sweetheart, it’s okay.”

Eric took an uneasy step and walked forward so he could bury his face in Illinois’s chest. He was shaking and Illinois held onto him and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Dulcito, I’m here,” Illinois felt a little guilty for letting the argument get this far. He’d gotten a bit presumptuous of Eric’s bravery lately and hadn’t been watching for signs that he was at his limit. “We don’t have to be here anymore.”

Eric pulled his head away from Illinois’s chest, his eyes wet with tears and glasses slightly askew from where his face had been pressed against his fiancé’s chest. “Bu-But I . . . n-need a suit?”

“Not if it’s going to be a huge fight,” Illinois told him. “If you want to go, we’re gone. No explanations. No questions. We’re gone. Hell if it means you’re more comfortable then we can get married in our pajamas.”

“Sorry Eric,” Roman apologized, Dark watching quietly from where he stood off to the side.

“You still wanna look at the house or you wanna head back to your base?” Illinois asked gently. “No wrong answers, we’ve got months, we can go tomorrow or even next week.”

Eric was quiet for a long time, only looking at Illinois’s shirt and playing with one of the buttons. Then he let out a quiet, “Wanna go look.”

Illinois nodded, “If you’re sure then we’ll go. But when you want to go home we’ll go.”

After a quick nod from Eric, Dark waved his hand and Eric’s clothes went back to normal, and a portal passed over all of them. Then they were standing on an island that had a thick treeline and the setting sun trying to peek through the branches of dark evergreens. They stood in front of an old cabin in the center of the island.

Roman frowned at it. “Wow this is . . . uh, quaint.”

“Princey you don’t need to step on eggshells,” Dark glared at him. “It’s drafty as a winter snowstorm and doesn’t have working plumbing. To put it mildly this place is a pitiful shell of its former glory.”

“So why’d you will it to your favorite kid again?” Roman braved a question.

“Because I have been looking for an excuse to renovate it,” Dark snarled, holding his hands up as aura flowed around him. The earth shook before every plank of wood and nail uprooted itself and the house became a mass around them, hovering in a wide circle above them, even the cracked and degraded foundation ripped out. An illusion of an old, vintage mansion expanded around.

“Here lies the birth and death of the Doom Family legacy,” Dark announced.

“I still can’t believe that’s their last name,” Roman snorted derisively. “Could you be any less of a supervillain?”

Dark glared at Roman “Why do you think I had it changed? No one was going to vote for a Mayor Doom in this day and age now were they?”

“Fair,” Roman allowed.

“Now keep your inane rambling civil before I kick you out of the conversation,” Dark threatened. “I only let you tag along for Eric’s mental health.”

Roman groaned, rolling his eyes, his whole body sagged a bit with annoyance.

The moment gave Dark the opportunity to notice that a massive hole had opened up under the floorboards of the cabin. There had been a slight layer of stone. Dark quietly left an echo in his place as he portaled into the hole to see how much he needed to fix. It was a large chamber with drawings on the walls of Anti, Mare, and himself.

Spurred on by a flash of fear he destroyed the images. He didn’t care who made them or why they were made. He scored his aura into the wall until it had erased it.

Only then did he notice a hole big enough for someone to climb through and a muddy boot print where someone had braced their foot against the wall to climb back out.

Dark sent an echo to investigate where the hole led to and took his place back up with the others. Someone had been on his island, and not the typical drunk college kids, but someone who seemed to know that the island housed all kinds of grisly secrets.

As he spoke with Eric and Illinois on house plans his echo came back to him, reporting evidence of a large boat landing on the island and evidence that something had been dug up. His red soul couldn’t give information on what that object would have been or what the hole in the ground was, but she agreed it was better destroyed.

Dark continued talking to Eric and Illinois, pulling magic and materials from the Void until a modest cottage was sitting. Not too large but not cramped. Eric was staring at the place in awe, holding onto Illinois’s hand.

“Well,” Illinois smiled at Dark, “if the whole mob boss thing doesn’t work out for you, then you can always get a job as a contractor.”

“Hilarious,” Dark told him dryly. “Take a look at the place, tell me if there’s anything wrong.”

Then he pulled Illinois over, but not enough to pull him away from Eric, “And if you happen to see anyone on this island tell me immediately.”

Illinois nodded seriously before smiling at Eric. Dark left Illinois with Roman and Eric and went to go and continue to investigate the island. He didn’t like that someone had been so close to the cabin. Dark usually kept it warded and safe, although rotted.

Dark had a hunt to conduct.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hey remember that tunnel that Jack and Nate found in Under the Waves? Because Dark sure doesn’t.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #Markiplier #Thomas Sanders #Illinois the Adventurer #ahwm Illinois #Eric Derekson #Darkiplier #Roman Sanders #Ericilly #magic #wedding planning #suit shopping #the fic where I put Eric in nice suits #tw panic attack

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eddieeatsass · 4 years

Text

Stripped Bare - Chapter 6

Summary: Eddie gets an offer from his company to work in Barbados over the summer. Beautiful weather, all expenses paid trip, and a stay in a suite at one of the most highly rated resorts in the world. How could he say no? Unfortunately, Eddie soon realizes there were a lot of reasons to say no. His skin doesn’t take kindly to the harsh sun, his suite ends up being the size of a shoe box, and, oh yeah, it’s also a nudist resort. Pairing: Reddie (side Benverly and Stanlonbrough) Rating: E Warnings: Smut, explicit language Read on AO3

The following month passed in a whirlwind. Eddie’s mind barely had time to keep up with the developments in his relationship with Richie. They were friends, Eddie believed, above all else, but they also acted like a couple. It had Eddie’s head throbbing any time he tried to think too hard on it.

Everything had been thrown into overdrive after their first encounter, the mutual eagerness for their explorations to continue didn’t go ignored. The second time they’d gotten together had been exactly two nights later; Richie had spent the entire day on the pool deck, eyeing Eddie up as overtly as possible. He’d made sure to put on a show no matter what he was doing. Swimming, putting on sunscreen, drinking a pina colada; he’d even managed to look sexy when him and Beverly had started a round of marco-polo in the pool. Eddie’d never thought that watching someone feel around blindly with their eyes screwed shut could be attractive, but Richie made it work.

The minute Eddie clocked out, Richie had been at his side, an eagerness evident in his step as he followed Eddie to his room. After the unnecessary commentary on how tiny Eddie’s room was, “A small room for a small person!”, Eddie had pushed Richie on to the bed, climbed into his lap, and eagerly reclaimed those lips that had been occupying his mind for the last 48 hours.

The second time had been just as mind blowing as the first, leaving Eddie’s face soaked with sweat and tears, and his cheeks sore from grinning so hard.

They’d fallen into a routine after that, seeking one another out whenever they could to relieve some of the tension that seemed to build up when they were away from each other.

Eddie had been amazed to find that there was no awkwardness between them, no necessity for them to build artificial comfort through small talk or forced jokes. Conversation always flowed freely, and at first Eddie had wondered if it was just a by-product of Richie’s easy-going nature. But the longer they spent time together, the more the truth solidified; Eddie and Richie had some sort of connection that couldn’t be denied. Although neither of them had pointed it out, its novelty making the idea of bringing attention to it intimidating, it was evident to everyone around them.

Like the time Richie had stolen Eddie away in the middle of his shift, giving Stan a pleading look as they passed. Stan had just rolled his eyes and covered for Eddie while he got his ass pounded in the storage closet. Stan would have been upset if it’d been any other dimwitted co-worker dropping his responsibility so he could fuck during work hours; but it hadn’t been just any dimwitted co-worker, it’d been his dimwitted Eddie, so Stan let it slide.

There were also the countless nights that Beverly had been kicked out of her room so that Richie could have Eddie over for some midnight activities. Beverly hadn’t actually minded, it had given her continuous excuses to stay at Ben’s overnight. However, even if she hadn’t been in the pursuit of her own man, she’d still have been too enamored by Richie’s attachment to be upset.

Mike didn’t seem bothered by Eddie’s slightly more frazzled work ethic, either. Eddie still did his job efficiently enough, though there were definitely a few extra flustered moments where he’d drop a guest’s drink because he tripped over a pool noodle while staring at Richie. Mike, apparently, thought it endearing, and would just respond with a knowing grin and a wink.

The evidence continued to pile up that Eddie and Richie were more than just friends with benefits, but regardless, the two in question still refused to discuss the giant, confusing, suffocating, elephant in the room.

It was exactly a month and three days into their unlabeled fling when Richie finally burst the ever-growing lump in Eddie’s chest.

It was Eddie’s day off, so he’d taken the opportunity to show Richie all the secret places he’d discovered while exploring the resort those past few weeks.

There was the abandoned section of the resort that had once been barred off for renovation, which had been cancelled once they’d discovered they lacked the funds needed to go through with it.

There was also the small hallway on the 5th floor that seemed to lead to nowhere, but if you went to the end of it you’d discover that the ‘wall’ there wasn’t a wall at all, but rather a thick partition of material light enough to push aside, revealing a small graveyard of vending machines.

Of course, their last stop was the arcade room that Stan had introduced to Eddie, which Richie went absolutely wild for. Even though the video games didn’t work, and the couch they pulled down from the wall was covered in an uncomfortable plastic sheet, Richie still liked the room for its atmosphere. Eddie wasn’t sure he understood, but he was ecstatic to see the happiness it brought Richie.

Fifteen minutes later and Richie had Eddie bent over the pool table. Eddie could feel the bruises forming on his hip bones from where they continuously slammed into the edge of the pool table; mahogany turning his golden skin purple. The thought of having a visible memory of this moment, one he could sink his fingers into and pull dull ache from, was far more exhilarating than Eddie ever would have thought.

“Aaahhh- Richie!” Eddie cried out, his fingers desperately seeking purchase across the green wool surface.

“Shhhh, unless you wanna get caught, I suggest you keep that pretty little mouth of your quiet.” Richie chided, as if he wasn’t at all affected by the way Eddie’s hole tightened around him like a boa constrictor. Eddie clenched himself on purpose in retaliation, triumphant when he heard the stuttering of breath from behind him.

“Or maybe you do want to get caught.” Richie continued, lowering his voice along with his body as he draped himself across Eddie. “Hmm? Did we discover another kink of yours to add to the list?”

Eddie gritted his teeth together, refusing to confirm nor deny Richie’s suspicions. While the thought of someone walking in on them did excite him, it also made Eddie’s anxiety spike so high he nearly lost his boner. Thankfully, Richie wasn’t about to let that happen, reaching around Eddie and encircling his cock with a painfully light grip.

Eddie tried to thrust into Richie’s hold, throwing off the rhythm they’d built up and causing Richie to pound into him at an angle that nearly had Eddie seeing stars.

“Let’s see, so far we’ve discovered hair pulling…” Richie wove his fingers through Eddie’s shaggy brown locks and pulled his head back sharply. “nipple play…” Richie continued, removing his grasp from Eddie’s cock and ignoring the noises of protest as he lifted it up to begin pinching Eddie’s pink little bud. “And of course, we know you like it when I do this.” Richie voice lowered as his hand did the same, leaving Eddie’s hair in favor of wrapping around his jaw so he could turn Eddie’s head.

Richie began kissing Eddie in a way that might more accurately be described as licking into his mouth. It was messy, and rough with the way Richie held him in place, hand nearly curling around Eddie’s neck. But Eddie loved it. It reminded him of the first time they’d done this, how it had all started, how the taste of Richie’s mouth had opened him up to a whole new world. It was intoxicating, and the feeling was all encompassing enough that Eddie didn’t even realize the stuttering of Richie’s hips, which Eddie had learned was a telltale sign of his oncoming release.

Eddie didn’t notice that Richie was cumming until he was grunting into Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie could feel the wetness beginning to seep out around Richie’s still thrusting cock.

Eddie was about to offer that he could finish himself off if Richie was too tired, when suddenly he was being manhandled up on to the pool table and turned around so his back was pillowed by the soft tabletop. Richie’s hands were pushing his legs up and apart and his head swooping down between them before Eddie could even wrap his mind around what was happening.

“Want to taste myself in you.”

“Wha- oh fuck oh my god.” Eddie moaned out as Richie began to lap at his hole eagerly. No matter how many times they did this, Eddie couldn’t help losing himself to the sensation. Richie’s tongue was soft, and warm, and firm, but most importantly, it was skilled. Richie knew what he was doing, he knew how to make Eddie’s toes curl and his stomach flip.

“I- please, Rich- need to cum, please- ahhhh!” As Richie wrapped his hand around Eddie’s cock, the smaller man’s back arched off the table.

Richie timed the flicks of his wrist with the flicks of his tongue, and before too long Eddie was cumming with a broken sob filling the room.

Eddie finally lowered his hips back down, noting a small tug in his lower back from holding the strained position for so long, but it was nothing but a whisper compared to the euphoria he felt flooding the rest of his body. His fingers and toes were tingling, buzzing with a flow of energy that emanated from his core. When he finally looked down at Richie, who’d pulled away from cleaning Eddie’s hole up, Eddie bursted out laughing.

“I don’t remember buying this brand of hair gel.” Richie commented, a small smirk disrupting his otherwise casual tone. He gazed up at Eddie from where he was still kneeling below him, Eddie’s cum shining evidently in Richie’s black curls.

“I am so sorry.” Eddie tried to get out between small bursts of giggles. He wanted to be sorry, he really did, but… it was just too funny a sight.

“No worries, Eddie Spaghetti!” Richie stood up, hooking his palms around the backs of Eddie’s knees and pulling him to the very edge of the pool table, so he was flush with Richie’s body. “I think I can find it in me to forgive you.” He added softly, leaning in to capture Eddie’s lips in a tender kiss.

Eddie melted into Richie, but the warmth was gone before he’d even had a chance to get used to it.

“In fact, if you really wanna make it up to me,” Richie began, pulling away slowly until he came back into focus in Eddie’s view. “You’ll come out on the town with me tonight.”

Eddie’s heart hiccupped, something like a bolt of pure energy shooting down his limbs and leaving them tingling. It was true that in the time that Eddie had been in Barbados, he still hadn’t left the resort grounds.

Eddie had let it slip last night while Richie’s hand was idly stroking his cock, his trash mouth rambling nonsense that only somewhat strung together. He’d mumbled something about Eddie’s eyes being brighter than the night lights along The Gap. Eddie was thoroughly confused, his post-orgasm brain struggling to understand why Richie was talking about a clothing company, until Richie seemed to notice Eddie’s muddled features.

Richie finally pulled his hand away from Eddie’s softening cock (for which Eddie was equally thankful and resentful) and propped himself up on an elbow so he could look down at Eddie.

“You haven’t been to St. Laurence Gap yet?” Richie asked, almost incredulously.

“Uhm… no?”

“Hmm, that’s weird… that’s usually the first place tourists go.” Richie joked.

There was a silence in which Richie laid back down beside Eddie, and the proximity prompted Eddie to continue, even though the conversation made him uncomfortable.

“I, uh, haven’t actually been to the city yet…”

“What!?” Richie shot up promptly, and the absurd reaction made Eddie laugh lightly before pushing him back down with a gentle shove to his chest.

“I haven’t had a reason to.” Eddie tried, knowing Richie would be able to see right through the excuse.

“Well… I mean you’re not missing much, I guess. The Gap is like, the only place worth checking out anyway.” Richie’s voice had taken on a softer tone, adjusting to the atmosphere he felt around him.

Eddie chewed on his lip for a bit before responding again.

“Is it safe?” He asked hesitantly.

“If you’re with the right people, yeah.” Richie assured him, and then added on after a beat. “I know it might feel a little overwhelming at first, but I promise it’s worth it just for the cultural experience alone. No pressure, of course, but if you ever wanted to go-”

They’d been cut off when a pounding at their door alerted them to Beverly’s presence, begging them to put on pants before she came in to grab the toiletries she needed for yet another night over at Ben’s.

Eddie hopped off the pool table, squeezing by Richie in search for his clothes.

“Sure.” Eddie tried for nonchalance, but the quickening beat of his heart could probably be heard halfway across the world. He located his underwear and slipped them on over slim hips.

“It doesn’t have to be, like… a date or anything.” Richie added, his tone unreadable.

‘Do you want it to be a date?’ Eddie’s brain questioned loudly, his mouth betraying him when it said nothing of the like. Instead, Eddie wandered over to his t-shirt and pulled it on robotically before turning back to Richie.

“Yeah, no, of course.” Eddie responded, his lips tight as they pulled up into a tense smile.

Eddie could trail Richie’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed thickly, clearly itching to say more but holding back. Eddie wanted to hear what he had to say, wanted to know if Richie was still tiptoeing around this thing between them or if he genuinely wanted to keep things casual. Eddie thought the second option might just kill him, so he opted to believe the first and keep his sanity.

Eddie spotted his shorts on top of the pinball machine and used it as the excuse for his final escape. If Richie wanted to continue to pretend their feelings for one another weren’t perceptible to anyone with eyes, then Eddie would need some time to recover between their little hookups, or he might just explode.

“Meet in the lobby at 7:00?” Eddie asked over his shoulder as he finally finished redressing.

“Uhh, yeah. See you then.”

Eddie turned to address Richie once more before leaving, and from his vantage point in the doorway, he couldn’t help but note how small Richie looked. He was still naked, not having moved from his spot in front of the pool table, and his usual air of cockiness seemed absent.

“I’m expecting you to show me a good time.” Eddie called to Richie.

Presented once again with their usual flirtatiousness, Richie seemed to fall back into himself, cocking an eyebrow at the challenge.

“It’ll be the best night you’ve ever had.” Richie assured him confidently.

Unbeknownst to him, Richie had already provided Eddie with the best night he’d ever had. He doubted anything could top that first time between them when Eddie finally got to experience what love and lust and want truly felt like.

But this might end up being a close second.

#reddie #reddie lemon #reddie smut #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #reddie fic #it fanfic #it fanfiction #it fic #my posts #my writing #stripped bare

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sassasquashedgrapes · 7 years

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Another Story: A Glee x Kissed by the Baddest Bidder Cross-over

It’s me again! Your friendly neighborhood, Squashed Grape.

It’s been a while since I got into the fanfic (or any literal stuff) and decided to do some fan service today. This is an old post but a goodie. You see, I’ve been a fan of Glee during the early days and was also a huge Otome player (lol. the closest to player I’ll ever be). And made this fanfic cross-over of sorts inspired from the Voltage Inc story, Kissed by the Baddest Bidder. Actually I *might* have switched the names a bit and the plot line is from the intro except for a few tweaks. Anyway, I just wanna lay it all down there so nobody starts yelling bloody murder.

After all, wasn’t 50 Shades like some fan service to Twilight, so haters can just move along now, Nothing to see.

So without much further ado, a short story cross-over for y’all!!

By the way, be prepared for a series of long fanfics of Glee coming at your way. This is only just the beginning of the Hargreave brothers.

click below

Another Story: Kissed By The Baddest Bidder/Glee Fanfic.

I’ve always been a huge fan of the otome game and the delicious notion of having someone used up for bidding, using the Glee characters seemed absolutely too good to resist. How could I? So shall we? Elian “Ian” Hargreave – Eisuke Ichinomiya Mike Chang – Soryu Oh, the cool mobster Noah Puckerman – Mitsunari Baba, the philandering theif Kurt Hummel – Ota Kisaki , the artist. Lol I know, Ota doesn’t swing that way but I always pegged Ota as a closet anyway. Cooper Anderson – Mamuro Kishi, the lazy detective and of course: Lucy Quinn Fabray – MC

Quinn Fabray is different in this storyline. I made a parallel universe of sorts, changing a bit of her past to make her come to her present future. So instead of moving to McKinley High, Lucy Q. Fabray’s father, Russel, dies of a heart attack and thus her mother remarries another man who worked as a hotel concierge manager in one of the most prestigious hotels in New York, the fictional hotel/casino Wyndham, (loosely based on the Waldorf Astoria) which is owned by then the family of Elian Hargreave’s grandfather who eventually takes over the hotel after graduating from high school. Quinn has grown up in the hotel, pretty much understanding and loving every detail and aspect of it, treating it as if it were her own family since she pretty much lead a lonely life in New York, being a small town girl from Ohio who turned out to grow into a beautiful young woman. This storyline is inspired by the Otome route of Eisuke Ichinomiya, whom I think was the best storyline for someone like her. I’m way too biased that I don’t think I want to share Soryu Oh with her, hahaha. Fast forward to the present, Quinn just graduated from Yale, but is now working he as a chambermaid in the hotel to earn extra cash at the same time pay for her college loans while she looks for a job.

Prologue: As I feel a trickle of sweat behind my back while being in the middle of the spotlight, I start to wonder as I stare into the crowd facing me “how on earth did I ever come to this?”

12 hours earlier

“Good morning,” I greet cheerfully as I swing open the door in locker room of the female changing hall as if I’ve done so many times over. I’m working during the summer as a maid at a hotel owned by the Hargreave Group, which is a large company that owns banks, trading companies, locally and overseas.

“Good morning, Lucy,” greets Marley, one of the maids who also works part-time in the hotel. I know for a fact that she looks old enough to still be in highschool, but I’ve never bothered to pry into matters like gossip. As long as they keep to their business, I keep to mine. But despite it, I feel like I could confide in her because she seems so open and nice.

“The VIP convention starts today. I am super excited,” Marley grins as she mentions one of the annual big events the hotel/casino throws.

“I’ll bet you’d be way too busy to get excited since you’ll be working at the casino floor,” I grin back thinking how exhausted I’m going to be once this convention is over. I’ve been living in the Wyndham since I was 15 after my dad died and my mother remarried. I’d come to love it as if it were my own family and was familiar with its daily routine until 4 years ago when it underwent a massive renovation into becoming the first hotel/casino in New York. It had been quite a scandal at first, with government officials opposing the idea of bringing “Las Vegas” to the metropolis, but the whole issue died down after a while and for the last two years, the Wyndham, became New York’s first legal casino and hotel.

“Don’t you wish you could work at the IVC?” Marley was referring to the International VIP Convention, one of the newly annual conventions frequented by Hollywood A-list stars, World leaders, socialites and big time businessmen who gathered once a year to play at the casinos and have a go into dabbling in a world of glamour

“Yeah, that would be great.” I agreed quietly.

“Well, that’s the goal of everyone who works here.” Marley sighed as she hunkered on the bench and rested her elbow on her knee as she propped her head on her hand. “I’ve been dreaming about it ever since I saw it on TV. Seeing movie stars, top athletes, and other super famous people all over the world gathered here in this party. I even heard Perez Hilton was so pissed that he didn’t get an invite.” She pursed her lips conspiratorially.

“You know, when I applied for this job a few months ago, I didn’t think I was going to be hired that I thought I was dreaming when I actually did.” Marley grinned happily. I smiled feeling how infectious her mood was, she was so upbeat by the whole thing, I didn’t want to look like a kill joy so I agreed.

“Oh my god.” She stopped suddenly as if she had thought of something of real importance. “What if some rich, famous guy falls in love with me at first sight?” I hope he knows you’re barely 18, I mentally think and almost utter it out loud but I stop myself and….

“Haha, keep dreaming.” I just say instead.

Whew, that was close. Our VIP guests are important, but I also value working for our regular guests, too. I had just graduated in a Marketing degree at Yale, but with the recession, jobs were scarcely handed and I didn’t feel the need to dabble in doing freebies as an Intern in a big corporation, when I could be earning much more doing it here in Wyndham. It really isn’t so bad. I really didn’t care that much about image anyway since moving to New York. Somehow the anonymity of it all had liberated me from the confines of the shallowness that I had experienced living in Lima, Ohio that I didn’t give a damn anymore.

I thought about the IVC, the International VIP Convention, Wyndham’s largest annual event is today and the international publicity with the media hanging around the area was totally insane. Unlike Marley, I had actually dreaded this more because I knew things were busier and a lot more tense than usual. My step-father, Charlie was one of the managers of the hotel and was in charge of the VIP guests lounge and had direct connections to the owner, Mr. Elian Hargreave. I heard a lot about the new owner, how accomplished he was despite his young age. He was featured in Forbes magazine as the most successful businessman under 40 years of age (rumors had it that he couldn’t be more than 30 years old.) He reminded me of a true-to-life Bruce Wayne, ridiculously handsome in a dark, mysterious way and was always surrounded by beautiful women. I knew my sister, Fran was crushing on him big time that she even begged Charlie for an introduction, but to no avail.

As we left the locker room and head to the hotel lobby, where a crowd of reporters and onlookers gathered, people whom I’ve only seen on TV or on a movie screen started appearing, strutting as if they were meant to walk down the red carpet and enter the magnificent lobby as if it were from a Hollywood movie scene.

“Oh. My God.” Marley’s mouth literally hung wide open. “Look who just got out of that limo.”

I crane my neck and look around thinking that she just saw the famous TV actress who was in a popular teen show. What was her name again? Elena Davenport? She was famous for being in this TV show about a love triangle between a vampire and a cyborg. It was insane how people were shouting her name as if it were part of her entourage. She looked stunning with her black hair and her golden skin that had obviously seen the tropics recently. She was then accompanied by an equally handsome young man who stood well over six feet tall and had a shock of black brown hair.

“That guy’s always on the VIP list. They call him the King,” Marley whispers as if we’re in church.

“I thought that was Elvis,” I quipped chuckling at her disgruntled look. I knew what she meant. I wasn’t one to get caught up in celebrity gossip, but that King she was referring to was no other than the owner of the Wyndham, Mr. Hargreave. He gallantly bowed offering his arm to Elena who gave him a dazzling smile as she took his arm. Hanging on the other side of his arm was also someone famous. I heard she was the new Broadway superstar and her name was Rachel Berry. Behind him was another famous model who often graced those ads in Vogue and a famous British reality show actress.

All the women around him are famous, I think dully as I look down in my frumpy uniform. For some odd feeling I felt a pang of something that I couldn’t understand wash over me. Before I had time to even think about it, Marley again interrupted my thoughts by whispering again on my ear.

“He’s been living in the penthouse suite for a while now.” “Of course he does, he owns the hotel.”

“But it costs tens and thousands of dollars to stay there for the night.” Marley argued.

“Maybe it’s a lot more convenient to keep tabs of work here than living on Park Avenue or at the East Side.” I shrugged watching as Mr. Hargreave pays no attention to the huge crowd and walks straight ahead.

I realize that I can’t take my eyes off him. I’ve heard the how the female hotel staff would gush about how hot he was, but seeing him in the flesh just took my breath away.

“Aaaah!!! Over here, Elian!!!” one of the women from the mass crowd screams holding a phone camera hoping to get a picture of him.

Suddenly, a group of women, thinking about doing the same thing start running towards him and bump into me and I feel myself being pushed right into the crowd and on to the red carpet.

SMACK!

I feel like I just hit a wall and close my eyes bracing myself for the pain to follow after the impact. Instead I feel a band of steel arms hold me close, as if to steady me from the madness. I then pry my eyes open and find myself staring into a pair of steel gray blue eyes that were placed like jewels on a handsome chiseled face.

Mr. Hargreave!!

“Aah, I- I’m so sorry,” I stammered, feeling the rush of blood flow straight at my face and into my brain as I continue to look at him, almost mesmerized yet horrified by what had just transpired. I still feel his arms around me and I could just tell that this multibillionaire really does work out because he’s practically hugging me right now.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a haughty voice belonging to the new Broadway ingénue pipes up beside Mr. Hargreave. She sounds almost disgusted by the sight of me. I can see from the corner of my peripheral vision that Elena Davenport was smirking as if amused by what was happening. God, I didn’t think she was such a bitch until now.

But instead of voicing that sentiment out, I knew I had a job at stake and right now it was totally hanging in the balance. I had just publicly humiliated myself in front of the owner of the hotel and his guests and was drawing unnecessary attention right now and it was more than I could honestly bear. I swallow and gather myself before bitchy Quinn Fabray comes out and try to mutter an apology again but am cut short by a curt, masculine and surprisingly sexy voice.

“Get out of the way,” Mr. Hargreave says as he suddenly pulls away from me, and pushes me not quite gently aside.

“What?” I mutter in disbelief as I lose my balance and fall flat on my butt to the ground.

Owwwww..

I look at slight disdain at the man who apparently was also my boss, but his muscular, tapered back was the only thing that could see that look on my face as I watch walk further away. He brushes off his suit as if he had just encountered a speck of dust and before I thought he had finally dismissed me, turns his head and shoots me a glare and then suddenly disappears into the casino hall.

I suddenly realize with a shock that I still had that look of displeasure on my face and grimaced as I rubbed my lower back, trying yet again to stead myself as the crowd disappeared into where Mr. Hargreave and his entourage were headed. Marley quickly comes rushing over to my side.

“Are you okay, Luce?” She asks me, totally concerned as she called me by my nickname. I haven’t been called Lucy for a while, I had been using Quinn since I had come to New York, but somehow there was a comfort in still being known as Lucy while here in the confines of the Wyndham.

“Yeah, my butt and my pride are fine,” I say.

“Oh my God. Mr. Hargreave caught you in his arms. I am so totally jealous! Did he smell nice? Was he really as buff underneath that suit as they say?” Marley was acting like a puppy dog fawning over that jerk.

“I don’t know, I don’t even r-remember,” I lied because I had just mentally scratched Elian Hargreave off as a completely cold, aloof, unfeeling human being. The nerve of that man! He didn’t even bother to defend me while I, one of his staff members, was berated by that Broadway bitch Berry.

Hmm. That had a nice ring to it. I feel tons better knowing that the girl could have used a plastic surgeon as good as the one who did my nose.

Come to think of it, Elian Hargreave was actually pretty frightening. I’ve seen how New Yorkers glare sometimes, but that cold look was totally at subzero levels worthy of the Artic.

I smooth out my clothes and hear the click clack of high heels behind me.

“Just what were you thinking, making a fool out of yourself?” a cold, voice tinged with an Italian accent snapped me back to reality. “And in front of such important guests and even the owner of this hotel?”

“Miss Thelma, “ I say coolly plastering a smile at one of the hotel managers. Thelma Caparano has been on my ass since the day I started working at the Wyndham when she found out I graduated with honors on my Marketing degree from Yale. Perhaps it was that and because I’m Charlie’s kid that she thinks I deserve to be more ill-treated than a worn-out mule from a third world country. She stands imposingly before me, all dressed up in her expertly tailored uniform as she clacked impatiently on her Prada heels waiting for me to answer her.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. It was an accident…”

“You are at fault for not paying attention to what’s going on around you,” she clucked her tongue at me, looking at me disapprovingly under those heavy glasses that framed her would-have-been pretty-if-she-wasn’t-such-a-bitch face. She was probably a few years older than me, but the harshness of her demeanor just made her look like petulant and almost bratty for a woman in her mid-thirties.

“Aren’t you in charge of the regular guests, Fabray?” She asks with a smirk on her face.

Oh boy, she does enjoy torturing me.

“You have no business even being here in the lobby. Not unless you get promoted to handling the VIP guests. But you won’t get that chance, would you? Not even if you begged your stepfather.” She laughed as if she had just thought of that joke and it was funny.

Ugh. I am totally so close to slapping her but instead I reply setting my gaze downcast hoping that she won’t see me seething as I meekly reply “Yes, Miss Thelma.”

“Well, since you’re here,” she motions to one of her hotel assistants who was following her like a dog who hands over a box as she shoves it towards me. “Go to every floor and drop off these announcement letters while you’re at it. These are for the guests who wish to avail of the spa promo package we are having in honor of the IVC.”

“Okay,” I say since arguing about doing a herculean task is going to go nowhere anyway since this angry vampire is out for my blood. She’s always been a bully and since I would never dared complain of this to Charlie even though I could have, I decide I might as well just shut up and deal with it. I turn and nod to Marley, saying my goodbyes and head towards the elevators.

As I walk by, I see a man, about my age arguing with a young woman about something in front of the elevator. The woman is wearing a dress that looks like something from the recent Fashion Week runway as she throws a mask at the man at the same time spewing a litany of curses in fluent French.

“Connard!! Baise toi!” she screamed as the man looked back in her as if in shock. “You lying, cheating scum! I never want to see you again.” With that, she gave him a resonant slap in the face for added effect before she walked out of the hotel.

This is awkward. I turn my attention instead to the mask that looked as if it were something one wore to a masquerade ball. I suddenly got an image of 50 shades of Grey and find myself staring at the mask lying on the floor. I was about to pick it up when the man who was slapped earlier moves quicker than I could and in a blink of an eye was brushing it off as if were the only precious thing that mattered to him.

Wow, his hands were fast like those of a magician. I turn to look at him and realize that he wasn’t bad looking either. He was of above average height and was muscularly built, but a bit thicker than Mr. Hargreave. He also had dark hair and had the most dazzling pair of emerald green eyes I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t tell what his hair was like underneath that Fedora hat that just made him look like the epitome of 1920’s gangster cool in a modern way.

Fedora Hat sighs dramatically. “Great, now I don’t have a date.” He says as if talking to himself then realizes I’m watching him. When our eyes meet, I quickly look away self-consciously because I didn’t want him to know that I had been caught staring at him. I try to act cool despite the awkward tension but know that he saw me witness the whole thing.

“You saw that, didn’t you?” He smirks, as if reading my mind.

“Yeah. I-I’m really sorry.” I backed away slowly as if avoiding being pounced by some agitated animal.

“Aw, come on. Don’t run away,” Fedora Hat laughs as he gently takes my arm as he leads me towards the elevator, completely ignoring the fact that I’m in the hotel maid’s uniform with a box of undelivered fliers on the other arm. “I’ll explain everything when we get there.”

“S-Sir?”

Before I know it, the man ignores my protests and continues to guide me, half-dragging me into the elevator with him. We’re alone in the elevator and to be honest, this is the first time I’ve been to the basement area. I’m surprised that the basment’s elevator looks just as elegant as the regular floor elevators. It sort of reminded me of going into a secret lair of some evil villain but at the same time being cooped inside a glass bird cage of sorts. I tried to avert my attention to the man beside me and look instead at the buttons of the elevator as the blinking lights affirmed our descent to the unknown.

“Whew! I’m lucky I found you,” Fedora Hat grins at me, still holding onto my arm having no intention of letting me go. His grip isn’t painful nor in any way gentle, but it’s firm enough to hold me into place. As if wanting to distract me from thinking of it, he adds “coz there’s no way I could go to the party without a beautiful woman on my arm. That would be a total buzzkill.”

Buzzkill? Who says that sort of thing these days?

“Party? You mean, the IVC?”

“The One and Only. Isn’t it obvious how I’m dressed?” He opens one free arm to show his expensive Italian cut suit. Definitely Armani now that I got a closer look. And definitely custom made as it fits him perfectly.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that you—“

“Hahaha. I’m kidding, babe. Man, you’re kinda uptight for a pretty thing. Were you raised in some Christian Bible thumping school or something?”

“Uh, that’s because I work at this hotel,” I say slowly almost as if trying to hint that I’m still in my maid’s uniform, completely ignoring the fact that he’s actually right about me being Christian. “So technically, I can’t go with you to the party as your date, sir.”

“What are you talking about? The reason why that woman earlier left was so you could be my date, Lucy.” He smiles in the most seductive, sexiest way possible as he finally noticed the name plate on my uniform.

Whoa, this one’s pretty dangerous. And a hopeless flirt as well. I try not to show my fear when grabs my chin and lifts it up to meet his face as he peers down, bringing it closer to mine. I can feel his breath grazing against me as he looks into my eyes.

“Definitely my type. Angel blonde hair, mesmerizing green eyes, and luscious lips…” he trails on softly as I sort of feel his face coming closer. He moves way to fast and I try to squirm away, backing off thinking now I understood perfectly why he got dumped in the first place.

DING! Saved by the bell of the basement floor. The elevator arrives at a full stop at the ballroom and Fedora Hat quickly backs off and casually straightens himself as if nothing of importance was about to take place. He could even care less whether he kissed me or not. Jeez.

“Let’s rock and roll, Princess.” He announces and gives off a broad smile as if putting on a game face. And contrary to his calm demeanor, he drags me out into the ballroom before I can protest as I’m lead into the glamorous ballroom that reminded me from a scene of a Hollywood movie.

I gaped in awestruck fascination, marveling how I could have possibly missed out the new renovations at the Wyndham. The renovations had still managed to maintain some of the old architecture, paying detail to preserving its original Art Deco state, but added with contemporary minimalist design, it’s mixture was astounding and beyond words. I had no means of any background in architecture, but this was like walking into the Hall of Fame on architectural immortality. I was shocked that everyone present were almost nonchalant of the genius behind the design and how lavishly decorated the ballroom was to the point that even the catering was handled in the most A-list of ways. I turn my attention to the gorgeous Swarovski crystals that were adorning the chandeliers that were hanging from the high ceiling.

The entire floor was jam-packed with the rich and famous that I wasn’t even sure if I was hallucinating because it was too much sensory overload to be true. I turn my head and notice Cristian Renaldi, the famous World cup soccer player from Spain to my right. And that’s the famous Hollywood actress, Julie Moore. And even the former President of the United States is over there? I feel like Alice in Wonderland being wrapped around the surrealness of it all being around these celebrities that it takes me a moment to get back to earth and finally notice that Fedora Hat who had dragged me here in the first place was gone.

Huh? Where’d he go?

Suddenly, I hear a womanly voice from behind me.

“Hey, do you have any champagne?” I turn around and am surprised that it wasn’t a woman, but a young man with an angelic face whose skin was as flawless as fine bone china. He had soft, brown hair and bright blue eyes. He looked so familiar because his face was on the cover of this month’s issue of People Magazine being tagged as one of the 25the most beautiful People of the World of this year.

“K-Kurt Hummel!!!” I gasp, recognizing the mega hyphenate National artist/ Pulitizer prize winning Children’s Novelist/ Socialite.

“Oh, you know who I am.” He smiles brightly, happy to have been recognized in a sea of famous faces. “Thanks!”

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll look for the champagne now.” I mumble apolitically frantically looking for a bottle of Dom Perignon and Mr. Hummel chuckles behind me, as if thoroughly amused.

“You sure you work here, Alice?”

“P-Pardon?”

“You remind me of Alice in Wonderland when she fell down the rabbit hole and stumbled into the Mad Hatter’s party.” He moves away from me and reaches over the table behind me and lifts a bottle of Moet et Chandon and pours himself a glass. He then thrusts his newly refilled glass towards me nudging me to take a drink.

“Here. You could use one more than me,” he grins. I was about to protest but there was something harsh in his eyes telling me not to defy him as I emptied my glass.

“T-Thanks,” I was about to take the bottle and refill his glass for him when he shakes his head and takes the glass from my hands and pours himself another.

“Now, go on to doing whatever it was and I hope you get back home safely, Alice,” was all he says as he raises his champagne glass, giving me a wink of good luck for whatever it was I was about to partake. He leaves with a wave.

He definitely was spot on about what I was feeling right at that moment.

I should definitely get out of here before I cause any more trouble.

But before I do, another man stops me from my tracks. He’s over fifty, overweight, and perhaps a bit slightly drunk as he grins at me and grabs my hand. Ugh, he also seems really sleazy. “Aren’t you a pretty one?” He slurs and I inwardly flinch from the smell of alcohol and sweat coming from him. “You wanna come with me and give me room service? I’ll make it worth your while and give you a big tip afterwards.

Ewww. His head is shaped like an egg and his pock-marked face is flushed as he looks me up and down.

“I’m sorry, sir but we don’t offer that kind of service here.” I answer politely, knowing that we had been trained beforehand on how to deal with rude perverts like this guest.

He completely ignores me and starts going on how rich he is and how much is net worth is.

To be honest, it wasn’t really much.

He then slips his arm around my waist and is about to pull me towards him when…

“This party just got really trashy.” A familiar masculine voice announced icily. I turn my head towards my savoir and realize that it’s Mr. Hargreave. He ignores my gasp of surprise and scowls at the sleaze holding me.

“I’d rather appreciate it, sir, if you kept your attention from the hotel staff and settle instead for the bevy of beauties surrounding you,” Elian Hargreave grinned sardonically nodding his head towards a group of runway models who flirtly waved back. And just when I thought he couldn’t intimidate the sleazebag, he looked at me as if I were a piece of trash marring the ambience and added cruelly. “Besides, you could totally do better than THAT. This one’s hardly a raving beauty.”

“I-I’m really sorry, Mr. Hargreave, sir! Pardon me!!!” Sleazebag bows apologetically quickly letting go of me as if he had been burned and kept his distance from me like I was infected with Ebola or something. He furiously wipes away his sweat and runs off.

“T-Thank you, Mr. Hargreave,” I say, totally ignoring the pain that he had brushed me off as a ugly and unattractive. But then again, men like him are probably used to just dating models that even ingénues were all blasé for him.

“Let’s go, Elian,” one of the pretty models whom he nodded to a while back approached him and casually hooked her arm around his, totally ignoring me.

“I can’t stand people who don’t know their place,” another one of those long legged giraffes piped in hooking her arm around his other free one as if she were about to die in a desert and he was her oasis.

As if he didn’t even acknowledge my existence and hadn’t even heard me, he turned his back as if nothing had ever happened a few minutes ago before being led away by the Amazonian Brazilian bimbos. He starts walking still surrounded by women and I’m completely overwhelmed as I watch him walk away. I suddenly notice a purple handkerchief on the floor behind him. I remember this being a part of his suit and realize that he dropped it.

Almost without thinking, I picked it up and started going after him.

“Uhm, sir! Excuse me, I think you dropped this—“ I try to chase after Mr. Hargreave but he gets lost in the crowd and I can’t seem to find him.

Oh, wait! There he is!!

I make my way through the crowd and follow him as he makes an exit to the far end of the ballroom.

A long, deserted hallway stretches out behind the door that Mr. Hargreave enters.

“Wait. Where did he go?”

There are several doors on either side of the hallway and I didn’t catch up with him in time to even know which doors did he enter. However, I hear voices coming from the far end. But somehow, as I strain to hear from the distance I get the feeling the conversation wasn’t even in English. I shake my head, thinking that I really have to return this handkerchief back to Mr. Hargreave, I strengthen my resolve and make my way towards the door where the voices were coming from. I note the door is slightly ajar, which explains why I could hear them. I peek through the gap and see several briefcases lying on a table surrounded with guns and large sums of money being packed by three Asian looking men dressed in all black discussing where to put the money in perfect Cantonese and before I could see more, I feel a large hand grab me by the shoulder and roughly pulls me away, swinging me around and forces me up against a wall…

Fear and surprise of being caught seeing something I shouldn’t have take over that I feel like I just might have suffered my first heart attack.

But unfortunately, that doesn’t happen.

Instead, my heart starts pounding again in fear as I’m facing a tall, Asian man of slim, yet muscular build with broad shoulders and powerful muscles who is now glaring at me and asks in in slightly cold, yet scarily threatening voice. His hair is slicked back and even though I know he’s actually quite good looking, I’m paralyzed with fear to hardly even notice.

“What are you doing here?” He demands as he pins me against the wall as his sharp eyes look at me.

Oh dear, God.

It happened so suddenly my body starts to tremble as I start to realize that maybe he is one of those gun men and those men aren’t just hotel guests. But Mafia? Triad?

What on earth should I do?

I breathe and swallow but it’s way too hard to even do so. Instead I focus on his face and answer.

“I-I- w-w-ork h-he---“ He completely ignores me and says instead, “you’ve got give seconds to walk away, disappear and forget everything you just saw. Got it? Otherwise, I’d hate to think what would happen to you after.” He also said it in a way that sounded like he was talking to a five-year old. A not very bright one at that too.

I nod wordlessly over and over, desperate to get away and he immediately lets me go. I run so fast my legs get tangled up with each other at first and don’t even think of where I’m headed. I just run to the point of exhaustion and find myself at the basement storage room. I close the door behind me and try to catch my breath, relieved with the fact that I have just barely escaped with my life as I offer a silent prayer and make the sign of the cross in complete gratitude that the scary Asian Mafia guy just let me go.

I ruminate over the thought of how it was possible for the Triad, one of the notorious Asian Mafias could be tied up to an event like the IVC? Were those guys even part of the Triad? Maybe they weren’t even mafia.

Get a hold of yourself, Fabray. Keep it together. I have just realized right at this moment I had actually lost the box of flyers I was holding earlier. I wasn’t sure if I had lost somewhere from that struggle between me and Fedora Hat, or that Mad Hatter encounter with Kurt Hummel, or even with the Middle Aged Sleazebag . I try again to get my body to function properly as I compose myself thinking over again where I had last left it and realized that it was on the table where I had been with Mr. Hummel.

Just as I swing the door open, I hear a loud crashing THUD.

The door I just swung had collided into something and I could hear a group of men scream “Watch out!!!”

I see two mean-looking men peeking at the other end of the door looking helplessly as the box they were carrying drops to the ground.

“Shit! That was the Winged Victorian Angel!”

Oh no. I remember from the news that this 300 year old museum artifact was meant to be raffled off as the grand prize at the IVC. It had been shipped all the way from the Louvre in Paris as a gift from the newly elected French President to the United States. The proceeds of the IVC’s funding and the raffle were meant to help the victims of Typhoon Haiyan somewhere in the Philippines.

I quickly open the crate box and find the statue was broken in half and my heart just drops to my stomach in nameless shock.

I am way too shocked to even mutter an apology. Not only did I just destroy what might have been a National Treasure, millions of homeless Filipino children were going to starve and suffer.

“Hey, this was a very important piece that was going to be auctioned off.” The slim mean-looking guy barks at me, ignoring my shocked state. Did he just say auctioned? Didn’t he mean it was going to be raffled?

“How are you gonna pay for this?” Asks the Fat Meanie beside him.

“Uh…..Sorry?”

“You think an apology is gonna cut it? You owe us, bitch!”

The men reach out to me and….

……………..

And I find myself being auctioned off. The host of the eveing had just announce d that the next bid was me, a healthy fit young Caucasian American.

Is this even legal? I think as I swallow in fear hearing the bids knock from $2 million to higher. I got put up in place of that Winged Victory Angel.

The mere fact that someone just started the bid off at $2 million was unreal.

I could barely make through the crowd as everyone was wearing masks similar to the masquerade mask Fedora Hat had with him when his date dumped him. But somehow I felt with a sinking dread that the person who placed the initial bid was the Middle Aged Creep from before. Oh crap, is he really going to buy me? I definitely do NOT want that at all.

“$2 million, going once……going twice……”

I heard the announcer say that I’d be a slave, or a toy, or……God knows. This is horrible. I try to shake myself off this nightmare, but I know what I’m going through right now was just as real as everything that partook 12 hours ago.

Oh God, how did I get to this? I fall to my knees, hang my head in shame as I feel the tears well in my eyes start to overflow.

I start praying hoping that Charlie, or my Mom or Fran could find me before it’s too late…..

Just then….

The auction hall suddenly buzzes with commotion as the announcer stops from closing the deal.

“Seat number 100 with a bid for $20 million cash.”

The crowd is drawn into complete silence.

I peer through the gates to look for 100, but whoever was bidding was not in the crowd. All I could do was stare up at the sum of the winning bid, completely dumbfounded as a bell sounds, calling the auction to a close.

“Sold to Seat Number 100 for $20 million. Thank you!!”

Someone bought me for twenty million US dollars?

My cage is carried over to the edge of the stage. As I get off, I’m greeted by two masked men. They weren’t the mean jerks from earlier but something about them looks vaguely familiar. One of them looked to be wearing a Fedora Hat.

Fedora Hat bought me? Before I even get the chance to ask, Fedora Hat in the mask grabs my arm and says” This way….”

Wait, what the heck am I being so nervous for? At least it’s Fedora Hat who bought me and not that Middle Aged Creep. But where are they going to take me now?

And who bought me?

I feel totally numb from this crazy situation that I don’t even notice that I’m brought up into the penthouse.

I gasp in marvel looking at my surroundings, knowing that out of all the hotel employees, only Charlie and a few other managers were ever allowed to come up here.

Wait, speaking of Charlie, does he even know about those weird auctions happening at the basement?

“We brought her, boss.” Fedora Hat announces to the man in the immaculate tux seated on one of the elegant sofas. Like Fedora Hat and the other man, he was also wearing a mask, but something about him looked made me sense that I’ve also encountered this man before. Even the other man seated beside him also with a shock of black hair was also wearing a mask also seemed vaguely familiar.

“Wait. You’re----“

“We bought you,” Mr. Hargreave says indifferently, removing his mask as if he didn’t even hear what I was about to say. The other man beside him followed suit.

“Guess we did end up seeing each other again,” the Asian Mafia guy remarks in the same casual, yet cold tone.

“You know this woman, Mike?” Hargreave raises his eyebrow almost as if in disbelief.

“You can say that.” He shrugs, not really giving a toss.

“Wait. You bought me? In that auction” I stammer, trying to still make sense of it all.

“He means WE won you, Alice.” Kurt Hummel corrects as I turn around in disbelief as he removes his mask as well.

“For $20 million, Princess. The boss must have it bad.” Fedora Hat grins as he casually throws his mask and lays it on the next empty sofa.

“M-Mr. Hummel?” I squeak, not sure if I was asking if Fedora Hat was referring him as ‘the boss’ or if I was just asking a reaffirmation that I knew at least another familiar but friendly face.

“Pffft!!! She doesn’t even know you’re name, Puck.” Kurt laughs.

“That because I didn’t have the time to tell her,” the man named Puck crosses his arms as if he were a pouting kid who wasn’t included in a game of tag.

“Isn’t this some form of human trafficking? I shouldn’t have even been up for that stupid auction in the first place.”

“Hey, anything and everything’s for sale at that auction.” Puck grins matter-of-factly, completely oblivious to the fact that I had stated it being against my own free will.

“Absolutely,” Kurt agrees. “You can buy almost anything there. Like stolen art, government secrets, and even hire a hitman!”

“That was last year, wasn’t it?” Puck asked as I noticed that he and Kurt were the only chatty ones in the group while the other two men watched silently.

“Anyway, this was the first time anyone was sold off in the manner of fashion you had earlier,” Kurt says tilting his head as if trying to understand what was really going on. “You must have done something really bad to put yourself up there, huh?”

“Well…….I accidentally broke the Winged Victory Angel….” My voice trails off and I realized that something wasn’t right here. Wait a minute, weren’t they just talking about selling black market things in a legal casino that by the way just happens to be in a highly publicized area? Was this even legal at all? “Who in the world would approve of these things? Do the police even know?”

“Well, to answer question number one. I did approve of it.” Mr. Hargreave says as if bored by this whole conversation.

“What?”

“If it’s worth anything, it’s here.” Hargreave scoffs and laughs coldly.

“Reckless as always,” Mike shakes his head. “This woman isn’t even worth anything.”

“Think about it for a moment,” Hargreave looks at me up and down as he folds his arms looking at me as if he were the predator toying with his prey. “Won’t it be fun coming up with ways to use her?”

“What gives you the right to decide that?” I ask exasperated.

“Who gave you permission to speak?” Hargreave asks coldly, merely raising an eyebrow.

“Huh?”

“Not another word unless I. SAY. SO.” Hargreave says, savoring the last three words, enunciating them slowly as if threatening me to not disobey him.

“If you’ve got a problem, we could always send you back to be auctioned off.” Mike sneers as if finding this even more amusing.

These guys are so scary. I’d rather die first than be sold off again.

I shake my head looking at both men, pleading them that I won’t disobey.

“Come on Boss……Mike……You two should be nice to the girls,” Puck quips, trying to lighten the mood, but honestly it fell a bit flat. Not that I’d feel better either way.

“We need to figure out who gets to keep her,” Kurt says, as if now he’s the one who was bored by the whole turn of the conversation. Though he acts as if he wants everything finalized, I get the feeling that he’s not entirely happy with the idea of having me for a slave. In fact, he looks rather…….reluctant. I’ve heard rumors that Mr. Hummel was gay, but I didn’t think now would have been the best times to actually confirm that. So instead I ask the second question that’s been nagging me.

“What do you mean, who gets to keep me? Didn’t you all buy me?”

“Yes, that’s true. But that’s really not your concern now.” Puck says. “If I were you, I’d choose me. I’m the only good guy here, so you can rest easy.”

“Says the world-famous thief and con-artist,” Elian Hargreave snorts derisively.

“Now, now Elian, you’re just trying to make Puck look bad.” Kurt says as if coming to his friends defense. “You’ve already got tons of groupies, why don’t you just play with one of them and let the rest of us have our fun?”

And to think I thought Kurt Hummel was safe because I assumed he was gay.

Guess again, batman.

“Mike Chang’s the one who could have his pick,” Hargreave threw a smirk towards the cool Asian mobster guy’s direction. “Women would do anything to be the lover of a Hong Kong mobster.”

So he really was part of the Mafia.

Who ARE these people? I’m speechless but I try to pull myself together and try to shake some last-minute common sense in them.

“Human trafficking IS illegal, you know. I’m going to report this to the police and I don’t care who you are.”

“You see a cop anywhere?” Elian Hargreave throws his head as if calling out to no one in particular. I follow his gaze and see a worn-out looking man standing by the window smoking a cigarette. He looks to be the older of the bunch, probably around 35 in age. Rather good-looking, in fact he sort of reminds me of that guy who plays a thief on TV except that he looks disheveled and hasn’t shaved in a week.

“Damn it, don’t just blow my cover like that,” he groans as if he didn’t even want to be a part of this conversation.

“Better now than later, right Detective Cooper?” Kurt giggles as if enjoying himself.

“Shut up, Hummel.”

“Oh, don’t be so mean. Just because I’m dating your brother doesn’t mean you have to be so rude.”

“Wait, you’re a cop?” I ask incredulously, ignoring the fact that Kurt Hummel just confirmed he was openly gay.

“Yup.” Apparently, the Detective spoke the fewest words possible.

I seriously CAN NOT believe that even the police are in on this.

“Well, it looks like we’re not going to reach a decision any time soon.” Kurt announces, really emphasizing on the obvious.

“Well Boss, at times like these….” Puck begins but Elian Hargreave cuts him off immediately.

“Right. I don’t want to waste anymore time.” Hargreave nods and stands up with Mike Chang following suit. All the men except for the Detective stand up and saunter over to me with Mr. Hargreave standing in the center of the group with his arms crossed looking down at me with cold eyes.

“Make a decision,” he says. “I’ll let you choose who buys you.”

---END---

Elian Hargreave. Be ready to hear more of another Hargreave, Elian was just the prototype of my OC in the next series of fanfics.

#glee #glee fanfiction #quinn fabray #voltage otome #otome guys #kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb #kbtbb eisuke #kbtbb soryu #kbtbb baba #mike chang #kurt hummel #noah puckerman #kbtbb ota

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chocobroing · 7 years

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A New World Chapter 3~Gladio/OFC SFW

Tagging: @blindbae, @hypaalicious, @dirtyffxvconfession, @rubyphilomela, @louisvuittontrashbags, @lady-asuka, @stunninglyignis, @nifwrites, @nyxswaifu, @themissimmortal, @cupnoodle-queen, @ignis-scientia-estrogen-brigade, @itshaejinju, @ridingchocobros Return of the Sister It had been a few weeks since Gladio moved into Ella's room and she loved that he was in bed with her. She had just got off her night shift from her store job and she was coming home at midnight, when the store closed. When she walked through the front door, she noticed that something seemed off. One of the back windows was opened slightly and she knew she closed it before heading to work. The guys wouldn't leave the windows open at night because they knew she had a thing about wild animals or strangers coming into her house. Also, the kitchen light was on, which meant someone was in there. Inching over to the coat closet, she opened the door and pulled out a handgun she kept just in case she couldn't access her shotgun. Keeping her steps quiet and precise, she walked into the kitchen and turned her gun on whoever was in there. Good thing she didn't take the safety off yet, because the person standing in the kitchen was none other than her spirited little sister, Freya. The young red head dropped what she was holding and put her hands up, looking like a deer in the headlights. Ella immediately put the gun down and set on the kitchen counter. "Freya?" she whispered, making sure she woke no one up. "What are you doing here?" "Hey, sis," said Freya, looking a bit scared. "I just got here a few minutes ago. I didn't have my key and the back window was unlocked. Why did you almost shoot me?" "I thought you were a burglar," answered Ella apologetically. "I didn't see your car. That means you must have parked in the back." "Sorry for scaring you like that," said Freya, blushing as red as her hair. "I didn't mean to. I was about to go to bed but I got hungry and decided to poke through your pantry. By the way, why do you have so much food? Is this a half-way house now?" "I have some new roommates," replied Ella, not knowing how to explain it to her. "Two of them are staying in your old room. They're married. Another couple is staying in my old room. I renovated the loft into sleeping quarters for two others." "Then I'll just sleep in your bed," said the younger woman, not knowing there was already an occupant in there. "Freya," said Ella, keeping her voice quiet, "there's already someone in there. He originally slept in the loft but we're in a relationship so he's in my bed." "Oh, my God," gasped Freya, eyes wide. "You actually have a boyfriend. The world is going to end." The drama in her voice made Ella roll her eyes. "Honestly, Freya," scoffed Ella, giving off a defensive aura, "you act like I was going to be a spinster all my life. I've done it before. When I started living here on my own, I had a one night stand or two. I've just never been in a committed relationship until he came along." Freya smirked. "I know all about sexual relationships. I may be four years younger than you, but I've done it many times at college." Ella playfully put her hands over her ears and shook her head. "La-la-la-la!" she said childishly. "I don't wanna hear my little sister talking about this." Freya started laughing and she grabbed Ella into a tight hug. "I've missed you, sis," she said, smiling. "It feels like it's been forever since we last saw each other." "Come on," said Ella, taking Freya by the hand after they hugged. "I'll chase Gladio out of my bed so you can sleep there." "No, Ella," said Freya, shaking her head. "I'll take the couch. Let your boyfriend sleep there. It's fine." "Hey, no sister of mine is sleeping on the couch," reproved Ella, giving her the warning pointer finger. "Besides, there is a spare bed in the loft slash room. He can stay there." "He won't like waking up like this," warned Freya, giving her a look. "He'll get over it," said Ella with a careless wave of her hand. "He'll probably think it was a dream." Freya and Ella both giggled and they walked out of the kitchen and down the hall to where Freya's room was. … When they opened the door, the hall light shined in to reveal Gladio sprawled out on Ella's bed, snoring. One of his long, strong arms was hanging off the bed and the covers were falling off of his body. The girls tried not to laugh when they looked at Gladio and tiptoed over to the bed. Ella leaned towards him and spoke softly in his ear. "Gladio," she said in a gentle voice, "my sister is here. I need you to move back to your old room." Her voice made him stir and he groaned, shifting to lay on his other side. Smiling, Ella shook Gladio's arm until he woke up. The large man got up on his stomach and he stared at Ella with sleep-blurred eyes, as if he was not seeing her. To coax him out, Ella pressed a kiss to his forehead and pulled his arm to get him out of bed. Gladio stumbled out of the bed, as if drunk, and allowed Ella to lead him back to the room where Ignis was. She opened the door to Ignis's room and eased Gladio onto the spare bed where the taller man used to sleep. As soon as he hit the pillow, he was out again. He didn't even bother to pull the covers over himself. … The next morning, Ella opened her eyes and saw that Freya was still asleep with her back facing her. Smiling, Ella got up and stroked a strand of hair out of Freya's face. She pulled on a robe and walked out into the family room to see Ignis and Gladio sitting on the couch, looking a bit miffed. She gave them a smile but they looked too perturbed. "Is there a reason I woke up in Ignis's room?" asked Gladio, sounding a bit nervous. "Babe, did I hold you too tight the night before?" Sometimes, Gladio would hold on to Ella too tight, resulting in bruises, and she would banish him to Ignis's room. They would make up in bed and all would be forgiven, but that had nothing to do with this. "Gladdy," she said sweetly, sitting down on the couch with him, "my little sister showed up last night and there was nowhere else she could sleep. Noct and Luna occupy her old room, remember?" "Oh, right," replied Gladio, looking a bit abashed. "I forgot. So, where's your sis?" "She's still asleep," answered Ella, taking Gladio's hand in her own. "She came in from Sac State late. Sacramento is about two or three hours from here." "Ah, yes," said Ignis, nodding, "I remember hearing you talk about her. Wasn't she majoring in veterinary? What's she doing here?" "I'll ask her when she wakes up," replied Ella, smiling. "Right now, let's just let her sleep." "How did you sleep?" asked Gladio, curious on how his woman slept without him. "Well, it wasn't my strong Gladio," answered Ella, smiling, "but I was okay. How did you sleep?" "It was cold without you," said Gladio, frowning a bit. "Hopefully, we can sort out the sleeping arrangements soon." Ella let out a laugh in agreement and nodded. "Let's get breakfast ready. We need to have food on the table before everyone else wakes up. Will you help me out, Ignis?" The man in the glasses looked a bit insulted. "No," he said, shaking his head, "I will cook and you will help me." Instead of arguing, Ella just shrugged her shoulders. "Either or," she remarked, walking into the kitchen with Ignis. When they walked in, Ella saw Freya getting out some eggs, intending to make some, and they walked up to her. Ignis knew where she was because he could smell the scent of her hair. He felt up Freya's arms until he found her shoulders and she turned around to see a man with glasses staring at her but not seeing her. "Excuse me, miss," he said in that husky voice that Freya could feel in her core. "I'm going to cook breakfast. Can you please step aside so that I may?" "Uh, sure," stammered Freya, finding her voice. "S-sorry…" She stepped aside, letting Ignis have access to the cooking utensils. She inched back to Ella to whisper in her ear. "Where did you get this one?" she asked quietly. "And why does he have to be hot?" They heard Ignis chuckle and both realized that he could hear them. "Just because I can't see you," he said humorously, "doesn't mean I'm deaf too." Freya's face turned bright red and she shrank back in embarrassment. Ella couldn't help but laugh because she had never seen her sister like that before. Then again, Ignis had a way of seeing through everything. "Let me help, Ignis," said Ella, moving to assist him. Freya awkwardly bit her bottom lip and left the kitchen to go to the living room. When she got there, she saw Gladio watching TV. There was another guy with him. He had light blond hair and blue eyes. Freya noticed that the blondie was attractive but he reminded her of a puppy. "Oh, hey, Freya," said Gladio, standing up to introduce himself. "I'm Gladiolus, your sister's boyfriend. Nice to meet you." When Freya shook his hand, she felt like her whole shoulder was going to come out of its socket and his grip was firm. She studied the man in front of her and noticed that he was very handsome and strong. He was also very tall and his amber eyes were piercing. He was rugged and tanned with a cool tattoo spanning his arms. They looked good on him too, she noted. "Well, you know I'm Freya," she said, giving him a smile. "It's nice to meet you. So nice to meet you. I'm so glad that Ella has someone. I always thought she would never fall in love." Gladio smiled. "Well, I'm lucky to have her," he said fondly about her. "Yeah, she's tamed the beast," said blondie, smirking at the tatted man. "You wanna run that by me again?" Gladio's voice deepened to a threatening growl, letting go of Freya's hand to glare at the blond guy. Blondie's grin widened. "You know what I said," he said teasingly. "I'm Prompto, by the way. Prompto Argentum. Nice to meet you. Ella told us good things about you." Freya blushed, looking pleased. She could tell this would be the beginning of a great friendship. … Gladio was having a problem. Ever since Freya showed up, he was getting less time with Ella. He barely slept in her bed anymore since Freya was sleeping in that bed. Ella was working on making some additions to the house to make more room for everyone but they had to do it with the government's permission, which Gladio thought was bullshit. He didn't know how much he could take of Ignis bolting up in the middle of the night shouting "That's it! I've come up with a new recipe!" anymore. He wanted to marry Ella but he didn't know how to go about it. … A few months later during winter, Freya and Ignis became great friends and made plans on helping Gladio propose to Ella. Freya told Ignis that their parents divorced when Ella was sixteen and it messed her up real good. She also told Ignis that Ella didn't really stay in long term relationships because she had walls around her heart that protected her. But they also kept out the love that she could give without abandon. "How come she has been with Gladio this long if that's how she feels?" asked Ignis once Freya told the story. "You see, Ella doesn't feel pressured because there's no big step that she sees in making," replied Freya. "She doesn't see a future in marriage. A few times when we were younger, she said 'what's the point of getting married if it never lasts'. She only saw it as a heartbreak." Ignis nodded in understanding. "I see," he murmured, placing a hand to his chin. "How do you think Ella would react if Gladio proposed to her?" "She'd probably have an anxiety attack," answered Freya honestly. "There's no doubt she loves Gladio. I've seen the way they are around each other. I think she wants to, in her heart of hearts, marry him but her fear outweighs her love. However, Gladio has proven again and again that he would never hurt or leave her." "Does Gladio know about this?" asked Ignis, wondering about his friend. "Judging by how he's acting around her," said Freya, "he doesn't. She probably didn't share it with him. That's the thing about her. She hates pity." Ignis understood that. When he went blind, he was determined to not be pitied. He was so determined that he learned how to do everything again as quickly as possible. Monica taught him how to cook again and Cor taught him how to fight again. He learned how to read again with books that were made for blind people and basically got his life back. He coped with the blindness and pushed through it. He never wanted to be pitied, not once. "Ignis?" Freya's voice got his attention again. "Are you okay? You zoned out a bit there." "I'm fine, Freya," he said quietly, thinking back to the times he had difficulty sleeping because of the blindness. His brain couldn't differentiate when it was time to sleep because he was seeing black all the time. "Is it about your eyes?" asked Freya, trying not to overstep. "What happened to them anyways?" Ignis had to think back to when he was attacked during the Leviathan ceremony. "I was evacuating people from Altissia," he started, "and I was attacked by the soldiers from the Empire. It happened so fast. I threw my knives at them and they shot magic at me at the same time. The scarred eye that you can see was a result of them using my knives against me. The magic knocked them back and, as you say, the lights went out in that eye. The magic damaged my other eye and ever since, I haven't been able to see." "Oh…" said Freya, feeling ashamed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. I don't want you to relive horrible memories." Ignis gave her a gentle smile. "It's alright, Freya," he said, reaching out to pat her hand. "It's made me stronger." "Have you ever tried surgery?" asked Freya, curious once again. "I mean, in your world, surely there was some cure to blindness." "Because I was blinded by magic, nothing can cure my vision," replied Ignis. "With help from Monica and Cor, I can see shapes and shadows when the light is good, but I will never fully see again." "I see," remarked Freya, feeling awkward. "However," said Ignis, lips quirking in a smile, "in my mind's eye, I can see you just as Ella described you. Middling in height, slender, fair-skinned, red-haired, cinnamon-colored eyes, beautiful." Freya blushed as red as her hair and she bowed her head bashfully. "Stop," she said, placing a hand to her cheek, "you're making me blush." Ignis's smile grew. "Good," he replied, placing a hand on her heated skin. "I wanted you to. If beauty were time, my dear, you'd be eternity." Freya let out a little choked sound and she bit her bottom lip to keep herself from laughing nervously. She had been flirted with at college, but none of them made her feel the way Ignis did. She couldn't deny that he was attractive. His voice did things to her that he would never know. He was an excellent cook and a gentleman. She loved his hair and how he commanded respect in every word he said. His confidence and intelligence were very attractive and, to her, such a turn on. "Am I making you uncomfortable, love?" he asked in the deep voice of his that she could feel in her core. "N-no," she lied, her voice high in pitch. A throaty chuckle came from Ignis as he stroked her cheek with his gentle fingers. "I may be blind, darling," he murmured, "but I'm not stupid. You're nervous. Your breathing has become quick, your skin is hot, and I can smell something…musky in the air." Shit! Freya thought, knowing he was referring to her arousal at his touch. She heard that blindness could heighten senses, except sight, but she thought that was a myth. With his sense of smell, he could smell her arousal no matter how hard she tried to hide it. "Oh, dammit," she muttered, flushing harder than before. "Sorry, Ignis." Ignis laughed, breaking the tension. "It's okay, Freya," he said, waving his hands carelessly. "I understand." Before Ignis could say anything more, Freya launched herself at him and pressed her mouth to his, running her hands through his dark blonde hair. Ignis was surprised because he couldn't see that coming but he returned the kiss and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his hand on the small of her back. After a few seconds of the embrace, Ignis pulled back and stroked Freya's red face. "That was nice," remarked Freya breathlessly, smiling at him. "I concur," replied Ignis, brushing his lips against her cheek. "We should do it more often. Freya's smile grew at that implication and she wrapped her arms around Ignis's waist. "I'd like that," she said softly. Ignis chuckled and kissed her on the mouth again, feeling his heart flutter with a new feeling that he had never felt before. He didn't know if it was love but it felt pretty damned close and he liked it. He wanted to be with Freya because she made him feel alive and made him laugh. Even with his blindness, she loved him and he loved her. That was all there was to it. There was no logic in denying it, and so they wouldn't.

#gladiolus amicitia #original female character #ignis scientia #final fantasy xv #ffxv fanfiction #sfw #A New World

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wavemistress · 7 years

Text

The Magician, Part 2

“That was a great show, Bill!” said Nick enthusiastically, “I’ve seen it six times and I still can’t figure out how you do half of your tricks. Are you sure you can’t tell me?”

“Nope,” Bill smiled, stripping off his gloves and throwing them into the top hat on his dressing table, “Magician’s Code of Honor, Nick. A magician never tells his secrets.”

“I know,” Nick grinned, “I just thought, since we’re friends…” He trailed off, looking hopeful.

“I can’t,” Bill laughed, standing to remove his tail jacket and hang it carefully in the closet. “I don’t wanna spoil it for you.”

“Well, I’m just glad you’ve finally taken my advice and revamped your act,” said Nick, patting his friend on the back. “I brought the wife last time. She said you’re better than David Copperfield.”

Bill only laughed again.

“Anyway,” Nick continued, pulling a handful of note cards from his jacket pocket, “I’m here mainly because I have three new job offers for you. Both NBC and CBS want you to appear on their late night shows and do a short act. Letterman even wants you to do one of his ‘Top Ten’ sketches. Both networks are offering a little bit above scale, but a spot on late night TV should boost your publicity considerably, so I told them you’d think it over. Then Circus Circus thinks you’d be perfect for their new line-up. They want to hire you on a more permanent basis and their offer is really generous. If I were you, I’d really give some serious thought to taking it. At the very least, it would be more classy than this.” He made a sweeping gesture at Bill’s dressing room as he put the cards in the Bill’s hat with his gloves.

“I’ll consider them,” Bill said off-handedly, unhooking his bowtie and dropping it into the hat as well.

“Well, don’t take too long,” said Nick, smiling. “Guys like these are impatient types. They don’t want to wait.”

“I’ll remember,” said the magician, “Now, you’ll have to excuse me, Nick. I want to change.”

“Sure,” Nick replied. “Call me as soon as you can about those jobs, okay?”

“You know I will,” said Bill, escorting Nick to the door and closing it quietly after him.

Once the door was closed, Bill quickly stripped out of his costume and hung it up, promising himself to take it in for dry-cleaning first thing in the morning. It amazed him how, nine months previous, he’d been so poor, he’d barely been able to afford to clean his costume more than once a month. As a result, he’d often come out on stage looking rather shabby. Now, however, he could afford to have his costume dry-cleaned about once a week. As he was pulling on his street clothes, a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt featuring a picture of a large white rabbit pulling a magician out of a hat, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” said Bill, certain who it was. The door swung open and there stood Mr. Vincent.

“Another successful show, Bill,” he smiled, walking in and seating himself on the sofa at the back of the room, “The lounge was packed. I’m going to have to put in more tables and chairs. Who knows? Maybe I’ll redecorate again.”

“The lounge looks classy the way that it is, Barry,” Bill said, pulling on his socks, “and if you expand it any more you’re going to run out of lobby.”

“I’m just pleased to have the money to be able to consider renovations,” Barry replied, “I don’t suppose you could work a plug for the hotel into your act, huh, Bill?”

“No offense, Barry,” said Bill, sliding his feet into his sneakers, “but I think you’d have to completely remodel the entire hotel and name it something other than ‘Purple Palace.’”

“This hotel has been in my family since 1926,” Barry said. “It’s distinctive and, thanks to you, the Purple Palace is almost a Las Vegas landmark. By the way, here’s your check for this week.” Bill took the piece of paper Barry handed him. “Pay to the order of William Curtiss, two thousand two hundred forty and 00/100 dollars,” it said with Barry’s signature near the bottom. “Keep it up, Bill,” Barry said, pushing himself back to a standing position and heading for the door. “You’re gonna make us both rich.” With that, he left, closing the door behind him.

Bill felt like laughing. Just six months previous, when he was still trying to figure out what worked and what didn’t, Barry Vincent had noticed that the number of patrons to his lounge had changed from a slight trickle to a flood, and among them were the managers of other hotels and even some casinos, more affluent ones with better lounges and wealthier customers. In a panic, Barry had contacted Nick with an offer to renegotiate Bill’s contract, a 20% boost in pay and a brand new camper, a 2010 Winnebago Vista, to replace his beat up, old ‘89 Fleetwood Tioga. His attitude toward Bill had changed, as well. He’d gone from stiffly insisting on being called “Mr. Vincent,” to politely requesting that Bill call him “Barry.” Looking back, Bill was sure nobody who knew him nine months ago would ever have guessed he’d come this far in less than a year.

The only problem was that the act didn’t always go as planned. It usually happened when he was a little overconfident that small things would happen differently than he’d envisioned them to go. The first few times, it had been only one trick out of the whole act that was different, like pink roses instead of red ones. Today, nearly every trick had something different about it. The only parts of his act that had remained basically the same had been his entrance and exit, in which he would both appear and disappear in a brief puff of smoke. There had been simple changes, such as toward the end when he’d meant to pull a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses from his sleeve and give them to a female audience member and, instead, had pulled out a bouquet of white dahlias instead. There had been more complicated changes, like sawing a woman in half and discovering a blood red stripe on her white blouse when he restored her. Then there had been singularly dramatic changes, like when he performed the floating lady, seating the cocktail waitress in a chair placed at center stage, levitating her so that her lap was about even with his shoulders and then, rather than gently spinning around like a slow moving top, she’d turned in the air like a propeller. The poor little waitress had given such a scream when that happened that most of the audience close to the stage had gasped and gone pale and one lady had spilled her drink down the front of her dress. The waitress hadn’t fallen from the chair when it upended itself, but just the fact that it had happened differently than planned was more than a little disturbing.

With a sigh, Bill grabbed his costume, zipping it carefully, shoes and all, into a garment bag and, slinging it over one arm, made his way toward the back of the hotel and his new camper.

“Enjoy your weekend,” said Barry as Bill passed the front desk. Bill nodded, his mind on something else. What could he do to make the magic work right? He wasn’t even sure how it was supposed to work, so it wasn’t as if he could lift the hood and check the engine. Down through the deserted kitchen Bill walked, carefully letting himself out the loading bay door, which Barry would lock around midnight. He then turned right and stepped through the door of his Winnebago, parked along the East side of the building.

“Good evening, Bill,” a voice said as soon as the door closed behind him.

Surprised, Bill let out a yell, dropping his garment bag in his haste to turn around. There, seated on Bill’s sofa, sat Merle, his hands balanced easily on the head of his cane.

“Oh! Merle,” Bill smiled, picking the garment bag up and heading for the bedroom to hang it in the closet. “You scared me. How’ve you been?”

Merle didn’t answer.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Bill continued, wandering back into the living area. “Have you seen the show?”

“Yes, Bill,” Merle replied, his voice sounding grim, as though he were clipping each of his words off with his teeth before he pushed them out of his mouth. “I’ve been watching you and I have to admit, I’m disappointed.”

“What?” said Bill, falling backwards and completely missing the chair he’d been meaning to sit in.

“When we first met,” said Merle coolly, “I saw a great deal of potential in you. It’s a real shame that you decided to waste it.”

“It’s not wasted,” Bill protested, dragging himself from the floor. “There are a lot of things that I’m able to do now that I couldn’t do before.”

“Yes,” Merle added, glaring at him, “and much more that you could be doing and aren’t. I suppose you’ve noticed that your magic has ceased to work properly from time to time.”

“Yes, I… Wait!” said Bill advancing on the old man. “How do you know that?”

“How I know is not important,” Merle said, his eyes not leaving Bill’s, “but I do know why.”

“Do you?” said Bill seating himself at the dining table. “Why?”

“It’s your pride that’s doing it, Bill,” replied Merle, leaning forward a little.

Bill nodded, “Yup, that’s about what I figured.”

Merle’s eyebrows ascended his forehead.

“It usually happens when I’m being cocky,” Bill explained.

“Then you’ll know that, for the magic to return to its proper function,” Merle added, gesturing at Bill with his cane, “you’ll need to become completely humble; to let your pride go.”

“How do I do that, Merle?” the magician pled.

“You’re an intelligent man,” said Merle, smiling now, “I’ve no doubt you’ll come up with something.”

“Well, if I’m going to be humble,” Bill sighed glumly, “I can’t do it here. Too many people know me.”

“Where, then?” the old man asked, the ghost of a smile still lingering about his lips.

Bill thought about it for a minute. Then, suddenly, it came to him. Hadn’t Nick given him some cards with new job offers on them? Launching himself out of his seat, Bill ran back to the bedroom and dug his hat from the hanging garment bag. There, in the bottom lay Nick’s three notecards. The first two didn’t interest him. If he wanted humility, appearing on national TV wasn’t going to help. The third, however, The Circus Circus Hotel and Casino, was almost right on the strip, and it was both big enough and popular enough that it wouldn’t matter how fancy his act got. Of course, he’d have to make a few changes to his billing, but those would be easy to manage. The trouble would be explaining it to Nick.

“This is the place,” Bill exclaimed, emerging into the living room again. “It’s perfect, Mer…” But the old man had gone, just as mysteriously as he’d appeared. Dismissing this from his mind, Bill grabbed his cell phone and dialed.

“Mmm?” said a rather sleepy voice.

“Nick,” Bill hurried, “I’m sorry to call you so late. I need to talk to you about those job offers you left me.”

“Hol’ on a sec,” Nick groaned. A slight rattling told Bill that his friend was getting up. “Okay, Bill. What’s up?”

“I need you to call CBS and NBC and make my excuses,” Bill began.

“Wh- Wait a minute!” Nick stammered. “You’re not taking the late night gigs? Bill, those have the potential of giving you the celebrity you’ve been craving for so long!”

“That’s just the problem, Nick,” Bill sighed, sinking down onto his sofa, “I’m not sure it’s celebrity that I’m after any more. I just want to make people smile, you know? So, first thing tomorrow, will you call Circus Circus and find out how soon they’d like to hire me?”

“Well, at least that move is sensible,” Nick said with a yawn, “I can’t think of a single performer who wouldn’t rather have a fixed wage over a head count any day of the week. Are we done here?”

“Yes, Nick,’” Bill smiled. “Call me in the morning as soon as things are settled, will you?”

“Sure,” Nick yawned again. Then there was a beep as the call was disconnected.

The following morning, Bill was up with the sun. Sticking his cell phone into his jeans pocket, he hurried into the Purple Palace and headed for Barry Vincent’s office.

“Bill! Come in! How’s my best act doing?” Barry smiled, gesturing to a seat. “Do you need something?”

“Yes, Barry,” Bill sighed, sinking into the proffered seat. “I need to move on.”

“Move on? You mean leave?” Barry replied, incredulous, “But why? Have I done something to offend you?”

“Not at all,” said Bill, leaning forward, “I just need to see some new faces, that’s all.”

“But what am I going to do without you?” objected the manager.

“Come on, Barry,” Bill replied, “You know perfectly well that, now you have money and a nice lounge, you can book just about any class act you like. Why, you’ll have this place going again in no time. Trust me.”

#Magician #Las Vegas #Real Magic #Who is Merle?

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miekasa · 3 years

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mie!! i’m so late to the party but i absolutely loved ‘NICE’, it made me feel so warm and fuzzy <33 it’s so unique to its own and the flow of it is beyond wonderful!

what is married life like for oc and eren in ‘NICE’? is it just like before/do you have any nice!husband!eren headcanons?

AHH I’m so happy you liked it and that you took the time to come and tell me!! Married life for them... doesn’t really differ from what their lives looked like before actually hehe. They were basically married without knowing it 🙄🙄 idiots to lovers or something like that; but here are a few head canons of the months immediately following NICE!

You officially got married in Paris on the fourth, not too long after Carla’s wedding. You guys flew in some officials, checked through all the technicalities, and signed the papers right on top of the Eiffel Tower (access granted by the city of Paris upon request of one Carla Jaeger, of course).

Aside from having the most picturesque location in the world to sign your marriage certificate, there wasn’t anything lavish in celebration after that. Carla’s wedding was just three days earlier, after all, and was still the talk of the local press. You did have a small party with your friends (Jean, Armin, Mikasa, Marco, Erwin, Levi, Hange came from the Alps for Carla’s wedding) in your overly large hotel room. Just some music, room service, and lots and lots of champagne.

Eren extended your winter break vacation by two weeks for an impromptu honeymoon to the Bahamas before you went home. Let’s just say you did not leave the safe haven of your hotel room very often, except to dip into the ocean a few nights (benefits of a private beach).

After getting married, the rings swapped places; the band with diamonds previously on your pointer finger was put on a chain (a new one since Eren threw the other one on the ground 💀), and you now wear the engagement ring on your ring finger.

Eren doesn’t like it when you take off the ring (the ring being the engagement ring). The first time you were going into the water, you were going to put it on the chain for safekeeping, but he protested very strongly. He would rather it rest safely in your suitcase than go around your neck again.

Your wedding bands are actually very similar to the band you already have: gold and diamond encrusted. Eren’s, however, has an emerald in the center, like the two emeralds that serve as the pistils of the sunflowers in your engagement ring (for reference, that ring looks something like this, but with a gold band). The bands were the first thing Eren bought when you guys got home.

Your friends in Dubai (Ymir, Reiner, Annie, Connie, Sasha) had no idea that you and Eren got married over winter break. Safe to say they were all… very surprised to hear the news. Connie was a little bit bitter because he missed it, and wolf whistles every time he sees your ring (even though he’s seen it before because you wore it on the necklace every day).

You got married in January, but have an official wedding in the process of being planned sometime around late summer/early fall. Carla insisted that you guys have a wedding despite already being married, and Eren agreed whole heartedly. They are both very into planning it, and yes, Eren is somewhat of a bridezilla, and his mom is enabling him 100% please.

The night you signed the wedding papers, Carla lent you an off-white satin couture gown from one of her past collections. She is designing and making your official wedding dress by hand, with the help of Mikasa.

The two of them are also making Eren’s suit, and all the outfits for your wedding party. Carla will murder you if you even so much as hint at just buying other suits/dresses. This is her baby’s wedding, and she runs one of the most renowned fashion houses of the modern century; she’ll be damned if you guys wear something off the rack.

You considered a destination wedding, but settled on having it in New York. You haven’t decided a location yet, and it’s the one thing Eren isn’t actually picky about (because you know he’s gonna go ham on the decor no matter where it is bye).

Jean doesn’t know it yet, but he’s your maid of honor. Good luck and best of wishes to Eren picking between Mikasa and Armin for best man.

Even before confessing and getting married, Eren never slept much in his own bedroom. You both have California king sized beds in your rooms, and more often than not, Eren would sleep with you in your bed. You didn’t always cuddle, but he just liked to be there (for your presence, and because he was grossly in love bye)… you ended up cuddling a lot of the time tho.

He wants to renovate your apartment now that you both “officially” live in the same bedroom, even though it’s not necessary. He just likes renovating things.

You guys go to dinner every weekend, and sometimes you even go dancing. Eren still can’t dance and he doesn’t actually care to learn; it just reminds him of being in Nice with you.

He kisses your ring finger every morning waking up and every night before going to bed; sometimes he even does it subconsciously in his sleep.

He holds your hand way more often. Not just because you guys are together now, but because he likes seeing the ring where it’s meant to be. He also notices that it helps to curb your anxiety, which is a good bonus.

Eren wants kids, but he hasn’t really brought it up yet. He knows you both are fairly young, and that you’re still technically in school, but that’s not really a deterrent for him.

The only reason he’s waiting to say something is because you guys have a lot going on with wedding planning and settling in to “married life”—there’s a lot of tedious paperwork to be done and documents to update. He’ll bring it up next year when all that is settled.

On the subject of school, you are still attending university, but have been eligible for graduation for a year now. You had enough credits to graduate last (the year before NICE) December, but there were a few more classes you wanted to take out of interest that hadn’t been running in past years, so you stayed for all four years. Eren picks you up from your lectures.

Eren graduated in December before you guys went on vacation. By normal standards, that’s a semester early. However, he was supposed to be in this Honors Arts and Sciences program, that should have taken him another two semesters. He decided it wasn’t worth it, and dropped the honors part, and with that, had enough credits to graduate, so he did.

A college degree is really more of an accessory for him anyway, and school was never his thing. He’s decently smart, sure, but he never enjoyed school because of the emphasis on exams; he’s more of a creative person, a dreamer if you will. The only reason he even went to Columbia was because you decided to go there.

He and you both have enough money to live more than comfortably if neither of you decided to get a job after graduation… way more than enough/ But Eren isn’t doing nothing; he’s actually sorta been working his way into the world of professional interior design, and he really loves it. You’re proud of him, and more than anything, happy that he decided to go for something he loves.

Armin and Jean also graduated a semester early. Armin’s been living with Mikasa since Connie got his own place off-campus in January. Jean is a little upset blondie is living with his girlfriend before he is, but it’s whatever 🙄if it’s gonna be anyone, at least it’s Armin.

Carla mentioned that Eren got married sometime during a NYFW interview (along with talking about her own recent marriage), and since then you both have interviewed for two magazines, one of which featured pictures from your smaller party in Paris. You’ve gotten requests from Vanity Fair and Vogue about your bigger wedding later in the year, but you guys haven’t invited any media officials as of yet.

You and Eren attend the MET Gala almost every year. You don’t walk the red carpet and nobody is scrambling to take your pictures; but you have passes because of Carla. Also, you could just buy your way in if you wanted you (and your friends have in the past). This year, Eren had to pay two security officers $10k in bribes because you two snuck away to fuck in… a part of the museum not sectioned off for the event. Whoopsies.

Even before Eren got him arrested, going out to brunch was kind of your and Armin’s thing. Eren insists he should be invited now that he’s your husband. He is not. (His bitterness grows when he learns that Jean has secured himself an invite somehow).

Eren sold the car he got arrested for drag racing in. He never told you why—and as far as transportation goes, it wasn’t a big deal because you guys have other cars—but, to him, it was a kind of symbol. He thinks it’s dumb if he thinks too long about it, but he just didn’t wanna have that there are a reminder of how he’d hurt you and his mom.

Jean still drives you to your therapy appointments, but now Eren picks you up. Eren also goes to therapy himself, and has been before you guys got married; his therapist says he’s undoubtedly happier in recent sessions… like a weight’s been lifted off his shoulder.

As far as drugs go, there’s, of course, weed on a happy occasion, or at a party; but he hasn’t touched coke since that one time (which was also the first time he’d ever done it). That’s not even him being a changed man, he just didn’t like it—he only argued with you about it because he was being stubborn. He’s more of a drinker than anything, and absolutely loves to get you drunk on a special occasion, too; he always has. He thinks you look cute, and he likes taking care of you.

You have lived in that apartment with Eren for years before marrying him, yet he insisted you needed to christen the place like it was brand new… at this point, the only places you haven’t fucked in are the elevator itself, the foyer, the storage closet, and the pool. The latter only because it’s been too cold in NYC… trust and believe pool sex is coming lmfao.

Eren bought the apartment and renovated and designed it, but he never did like being in it all alone, and that’s been magnified since you got married. If he’s there by himself, he’s usually in the living area, napping on the daybed. He waits for your faithfully every day, and is hardly in the bedroom if you’re not.

Eren has not stopped introducing you as his wife since January. Even to people in passing like cashiers and bartenders, everyone in the whole damn city probably knows you guys got hitched.

#anonymous #oh i forgot how much i love this couple eren's so baby :((((( he loves her SO much its unberable #its A MIRACLE they didnt get together sooner #yes theyre only 21 in the fic but he was literally ready at 19 god i love him i love him i love himmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm #fic.ask #eren x reader

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