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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

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Video Games - Nolan Sorrento x Reader (Ready Player One)

GIF CREDIT: X

Author’s Note: Well this was one scene long until I listened to this song. So, you’re welcome!

I always come back to this end scene for Nolan, and in all honesty it’s one of my favourite things to think about, so thank you @primadonna-girl23 for finally giving me a reason to write it! I hope you enjoy! Thank you for your request! 💙💜

Video Games - Lana Del Rey

Disclaimer: RPO characters not mine / gifs not mine / lyrics not mine. I tend to like writing Nolan like this, and I will live and die by it!

Premise: There’s nothing you love more than playing video games with Nolan. But hes good, and he doesn’t lose. All you vow is one day someones gonna beat him, even if you have to wait for another generation to do it for you...

Words: 2771

Warnings: Small swears / insulin warning

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Swinging in the backyard Pull up in your fast car whistling my name Open up a beer And you say get over here and play a video game I'm in his favorite sun dress Watching me get undressed take that body downtown I say you the bestest Lean in for a big kiss put his favorite perfume on Go play your video game

Singing in the old bars Living for the fame Kissing in the blue dark, playing pool and wild darts Video games He holds me in his big arms, drunk and I am seeing stars This is all I think of This is my idea of fun Playing video games

It's you, it's you, it's all for you Everything I do I tell you all the time Heaven is a place on earth where you Tell me all the things you want to do I heard that you like the bad girls honey, is that true? It's better than I ever even knew They say that the world was built for two Only worth living if somebody is loving you Baby now you do

---

This may well have been one of your favourite past times. Sure, you were dating Nolan Sorrento, who at any point in time – as the CEO of IOI and with the millions he made – could whisk you down town in one of the many sports cars he owned to a bar, or a club, or restaurant, where all the stars hung out, or on some expensive getaway to anywhere in the world; heck, Nolan and his money could get you anything, and often did… But there was really nothing better than sitting in his living room trying to kick his ass at retro video games. You failed more times than you won, and sometimes you thought he let you win just because of the pout on your face, but you didn’t see how you could enjoy anything as much as this. With the sometimes God awful graphics, and the very most the consoles could really do was occasionally vibrate the controller (which made you shriek and him cackle the first time it happened) these games were a far cry from the OASIS – and yet you preferred them. These old restored gaming systems and the various disks and cartridges that came with them, along with movies from years gone by, were Nolan’s pride and joy. The 90s into early 2000s were his vary favourites; staples from his childhood. But he had right through until the latest editions – just before this type of gaming became nearly obsolete. You could play them in the OASIS, of course, but Nolan didn’t see the point when you could get the real experience by putting your mind to fixing things. Essentially his only past time before he’d become CEO – and now he didn’t have a lot of time for things like that, but he could escape to play them. Sometimes you just liked to watch him on single player go through something a little more strategic – but he’d let you pick out what his character looked like, or maybe who they would side with, or the conversational track that he’d go with. And you liked the times Nolan would go quiet for just a moment and then almost shudder, and say something like, “Oh my god the soundtrack!” which made you focus on it for the remainder of his playthrough.

But on occasion Nolan would put in a multiplayer game and throw you a controller; and you’d either get to help him, or try to beat him. And it was fun to lie back on the sofa between his legs, head on his chest – tongue stuck out in concentration and yell expletives every time he beat you. “You can do better than that!” He laughed again and you smacked his leg, “You’re infuriating!” He gave you nothing more than a teasing grin; “Oh, I’m trying very hard I assure you!” “OH! SHUT UP!” But you were good humoured about it, and Nolan still laughed when you resorted to cheating, attempting to block his view or distract him from time to time. Which he used to say would serve you right if you still lost; sometimes he’d pin you between or under his legs so you couldn’t move, and you thought he was doing a little too much Kegel. Sometimes Nolan would even beat you with one arm around your waist, holding you close to him as you balanced on his knees so he was playing one handed, just to prove he could – or he’d give you a ten second head start. You had to admit that he was good, but he was also an expert – Nolan knew these consoles inside out, and he’d grown up doing this. So, no surprises there either. Today this wasn’t the plan, you were supposed to be going out on a date – judging by the fact you were wearing a sundress, and he was in a nice shirt and pants. But on the drive out of town Nolan had started telling you about games he’d been reprogramming, and fixing up and some new ones he’d managed to get hold of. That information didn’t come with a price tag, but you could imagine the expense – and before long you found that more interesting and you were on your way back home. But this was a little more casual, and after getting bored of losing to him for the umpteenth time, Nolan let you play it for yourself. “Y-You sure!?” “Mhm…” He popped the cap on his beer, “I’ll help you out!” You smiled sweetly; “Don’t you want to play it first?” “No…” He gave a shrug taking a sip, “I played it enough as a kid – you don’t even know what this game is, time I taught you. It’s one of my very favourites…” And so he did help you navigate around – or point out little hidden pieces of game play or items you would have surely missed, occasionally he’d take your hands and the controller in his to assist with some of the harder stuff where you insisted you didn’t have enough fingers to work it all out at once – but Nolan watched that smile on your face grow every time he did so, and felt that maybe you were asking for his help on purpose. Eventually you sighed gently; “I love doing this with you…” “What? Hanging out on my couch playing retro games and skipping dates?” Nolan chuckled, taking another swig of beer – he was surprised there was any left considering your practice of taking it from him when you thought he wouldn’t notice. “Don’t say it like that…” you tipped your head back to catch the amusement on his face; “This is nice and relaxed… And we’re together, how is it not a date?” He tilted his head both ways; “I dunno, I guess I kinda like taking you out…” Nolan paused thoughtfully, “I’m not saying you’re wrong though, this is… I could get used to it.” “Get used to it?” You paused the game and rolled over to face him, “Careful what you wish for Nolan Sorrento!” But he still laughed; “That doesn’t sound like it bodes well for me. Ah, I think I could put up with you for a while.” “Thanks!” But you were laughing along, until you bit your lips together, “I…Think I could probably get used to this too.” He stared at you for a little while, almost in adoration, before he leant forward, touching his nose to yours before kissing you. You closed your eyes to him, content, before wrapping your arms around him and deepening the kiss. Sorrento eventually broke it, arms still around you – before chuckling nervously, a faint shade of pink dusting his cheeks; “Aha… Okay, before we get a little too used to this… I say we don’t waste that beautiful dress, and you let me take you out for dinner?” You giggled, stealing another kiss – “Okay! Dinner it is!”

***

That feeling never changed, not through dating moving from months to years, or moving in with him, or getting engaged… then married… and not even the stage you were at now. You were getting better; you could actually beat him at these games now – and Nolan was only ever impressed. He enjoyed it when you won as much as you did, because of how happy you were that you’d actually beat him – and the excitement on your face; the way you’d start screaming sentences when you were nearly there. Or how he’d manage to reign it back (even if you still won), and you’d scream “NO!” so loud he thought eventually someone might knock on the front door to see if you were okay. Luckily it’d never happened. Right now you were supposed to be helping him on a campaign, but you were much more interested in watching what he was doing and snacking. “Are you actually gonna help, or…? Cuz I can go back to single player if you’d rather.” “No.” You said through a mouthful of Chex, “I’ll help, just give me a second.” He chuckled, and you held up the bag to offer him one, which he thanked you for. Truth was at 7 months pregnant you’d rather sit here quietly, head in his lap and watch him. Whilst you were sitting eating and watching Nolan do all he could in the mission solo, you’d balanced the controller on your stomach and every so often, as your baby moved, the controller wiggled around on its precarious balance. But that only made you laugh. This position was at least comfortable for you; and usually you sat like this to watch movies too – where Nolan would cuddle you close and rest his hands over yours on your stomach; where his face became a lot more interesting than whatever you were watching. Nothing really compared to the way he lit up when your baby made a noticeable movement, and would pretend he wasn’t welling up – but you knew Nolan was, he couldn’t hide that from you – though he tried. However Sorrento accidently ran himself into the levels boss fight before you were ready; and to let you know something important was about to happen, the controller vibrated. “AH-!” You gasped which caused Nolan to jump, “Shit! Sorry!” But you laughed harder; “Not only was the vibration kinda startling…Ooh-! Okay! I don’t like you right now!” You took his hand and placed it over your stomach as you were given a third little kick; “Ooops!” He laughed, “And I’ve got you into a boss fight!” “Oops-!?” You folded your arms, “I should just let you die!! If this continues all night-!” Nolan cringed, “I’d really rather I didn’t die – besides if you get attacked that controller is only gonna vibrate more, you realise that-!?” Well, that made you pick it up pretty quick. “You are okay though, right?” “Yeah. I guess.” You grumbled, “If I can’t beat you, the baby will!” Nolan chuckled before scoffing; “Yeah, that I’d like to see-!” *** “THAT’S NOT FAIR!!” “Come on its two against one how is that not fair?” “THE COMPUTER IS HELPING YOU!” “Yeah and it’s pretty useless! You two should have this-!” “BUT IT ISN’T FAIIIIIIIIIIIR---!!” “What, you think I’m gonna let you win-!?” “REMATCH! PLAY FAIR THIS TIME!” “You’re on!” You were sorting a few things out in the upstairs bedrooms when you were met with yelling from the living room. You laughed to yourself; this was the kind of argument that had transferred from you and your husband, to your husband and your children. And Nolan was still the one winning. You walked out onto the landing; balcony overlooking the living room to watch them. Your two eldest boys were sitting on the floor, having clearly just lost another match, arms folded and sulking as they threw glares at your husband, sitting cross legged on the couch with your little girl – your youngest – curled up in his lap silently watching the whole thing. You couldn’t help but smile at the scene; just another weekend in the Sorrento household… “What are you guys doing!?” They all looked up at you “Dad’s cheating!” “What-!? I’m hardly even trying-!” That made both the boys gasp and look back to him; Nolan laughed like he’d just said something he shouldn’t have and grinned at you. You rolled your eyes, smiling, and made for the stairs, “Alright hold on I’m coming…” By the time you were downstairs they were seemingly settled again into another round, although even as you padded over you could see Nolan was probably going to get himself another win. There was a smile on his face that had only appeared since you’d had children, and his laugh this time was absentminded as they both ganged up on his character. For that he turned immediately to your daughter, and indicated to her which buttons to press to help him with the powered-up finishing move. Which had the boys yelling about cheating again and Nolan and her laughing at them. And for a minute you stood back, heart full watching them all. But especially Nolan – things had been hard at IOI for him lately, and it wasn’t exactly going as planned. But when he sat here with his children, it was like everything else was forgotten; he was laughing and happy, and you didn’t think you’d ever seen him this happy – not for a while – and he was relaxed. Today he was dad, not Sir, no matter how exasperatedly anyone was saying it. Your eldest spotted you in the corner and called you over; “Moooom! Can you beat him for us!?” They had heard of the famed times when you’d managed it, but it’d been a while. Nolan’s head swivelled and his eyes narrowed at you; “Oh! If you DARE--!!” You held your hands up; “Hey, I’m not taking sides-!” Nolan clapped as your boys groaned; “Ha! That’s my girl!” “Okay, Dad, one more round.” “Oh god, no, don’t you get sick of me beating you? I’m getting too old for this-!” Nolan chuckled, then he exited back to the games’ main menu to set up a multiplayer quest, handing the controller over to your daughter as you settled onto the sofa next to him. His voice lowered as he lifted her from his lap onto the floor; “Go on sweetheart – show ‘em how it’s done.” The controller was a little big in her hands but she beamed, “Play nice boys!” But he knew they would, as they lay on their fronts waiting for the game to load up again for them. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek gently; “I love you daddy!” “I love you too…” She ran off to join her brothers and he watched her go – that smile somehow bigger. You tsked “Such a daddy’s girl.” Nolan scoffed, but then agreed; “Yeah. Probably.” He held his arms out for you, watching the boys help their little sister with the controls for a moment with pride. You snuggled into him, head on his chest and he kissed your forehead – “I mean, of course I love you.” You giggled as he continued pressing kisses into your skin; “Oh that was never in doubt Nolan Sorrento!” You sat in silence for a moment – Nolan was watching the game play, and every so often would suggest strategy, as he’d used to do with you. You instead watched your kids help each other out on the floor, everyone content with life for now. Exactly how it should be, before you voiced your question, looking back to your husbands blue eyes; “Why don’t you let them win?” His smile was mysterious for a moment as he looked back to you; “Because one day they’ll beat me, and I’ll never win again!” then he grinned, “Besides, I like that they’re kinda in awe of me at the moment, and as long as I can keep that up and help them in the harder levels, I’d love to.” He placed his hand to his forehead to a moment; “…God, I’m dreading the day that don’t need me…” You shook your head, before placing a gentle kiss to his cheek; “Don’t say such silly things, they’ll always need you – you’re their father.” That smile was back, and Nolan pulled you closer to him for another kiss, before you heard the kids all cheering at beating another level and had to both laugh. Yes, for now all was right, and long may that continue.

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Thank you for requesting! Thank you for reading! 😘💜

@3134045126 @happyskywhale @wltz-bby #MendoTagSquad

#There will never be enough Nolan Sorrento on my blog #Nolan Sorrento #Ben Mendelsohn #Ready Player One #Nolan Sorrento x Reader #Linzi Writes #Linzi Writes Requests #Smol Bean Drabbles #137 #This is kinda how I wanted to end him #Him her and 3 kids #Evie #Lorena V.

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littlejeanniebean · 4 years

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Ep. 1 | The Marauders: Chase Her

A/N: I’m back, witches! ;) With the long-teased BAND AU!! Also @inakindofdaydream here’s your tag as promised, hope you enjoy :)) More Marauders in my masterlist! Read on AO3! - J xx

“Oh, Lily, darling, isn’t it a bit…” Narcissa Black appraised the outfit with a derisive sniff, “childish?”

It was a floor-length gown, trimmed to flow with the model’s figure exactly, thanks to Dorcas’ design skills. The highlight was the hot pink lava-lamp-like mixture oozing between the solid pale pink inner layer and the clear exterior material; Lily, a chemistry undergraduate who’d founded the Evans brand on Etsy as a hobby, had made it from scratch. Underneath it all was a complicated circulation system of refrigerant to keep the wearer cool, courtesy of Marlene, who was studying to be a mechanical engineer. Lily had tested it on herself and had the light burns on her legs to prove it, but it was worth it for the 60s-themed Met Gala. That is, if she could convince her client to wear it.

“Hardly,” she responded, “The design says you're playful, but the slinky cut and deep-V neckline say you’re a woman ready to conquer the carpet.”

Narcissa rolled her eyes, “Serves me right for selecting a designer last minute. All the professionals are booked.”

Lily tried to think of a popsicle or winter, anything to cool the angry flush she could feel burning in her cheeks.

The tall blonde was unbothered as she strutted around the mannequin, inspecting the low back and the spaghetti straps, before extending her arms out to Dorcas and Marlene, who were standing by, “Fine, fit me.”

“I got it,” Lily said quickly when she saw Dorcas’ jaw drop in indignance at being treated like a maid.

Marlene successfully occupied the deeply offended designer until Mary, the brand's publicist, announced that it was time.

Lily and their client left the hotel for the iconic New York museum in a chartered limousine among an entire fleet of them. Although dressed plainly in a black sweater and pencil skirt, Lily’s bright red hair made her stand out among the Black family’s monochrome entourage.

“Sirius, who’s that?” James pushed his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose and tiptoed to get a better look through the sea of celebrities and their teams spilling onto the carpet.

“I don’t know, but she must be nice because I’m not related to her,” said the dark-haired man, who’d been essentially coerced into attending this event with the rest of his crazy reality television family.

“Starting to not regret letting you drag me along,” while his friend walked the carpet, James followed the lady with the designer access credentials who looked at everything around her in unabashed wonder.

“James Potter!” someone called out.

He turned around and noticed too late that it was a reporter.

“How does it feel to win a record deal after your performance in the Highland Music Festival?”

“Will you be performing on The House of Black?”

“When is your debut album coming out?”

James held up a finger for silence the way he’d seen his mum do plenty-a-time, “I’m so grateful - especially to my music teacher, Minerva McGonagall. I don’t think my best friend will even be on that show anymore and we do everything together. We’re in writing sessions now, just having fun and seeing what we can do, but we’re very excited to share our music with everyone soon, especially our amazing fans.”

“Who are you wearing?”

“Who are you most excited to meet tonight?”

“Are you excited for The Weird Sisters’ performance?”

It went on this way until James could politely extricate himself with the boyish excuse of needing to use the bathroom. He practically sprinted to the tents at the end of the carpet.

“My armpits are sweating, Lily!”

There she was. A picture of calm amidst the commotion. And her name was Lily.

“Cissy, calm down -”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Siri!”

“See, this is why I can’t work with you lot anymore! You’re bat-shit crazy! Of course, your pits sweat, you’re a human being - not a fucking Barbie doll!”

“You haven’t the faintest idea of the impossible standards I hold myself to because I actually strive to be my best self unlike you, you lazy dog!”

“Are you getting this?” Bella Black, whispered with a toothy smile to the camera that was filming the entire exchange.

"How's it going, Molly?" James addressed the short videographer with auburn space buns.

She made a funny face at him and he laughed. Molly smiled just a bit in spite of the tensions she worked around daily.

"Narcissa," a clear voice pulled his attention back towards the girl named Lily, "I believe you've just nicked the wire that runs the cooling system with your heel," she crouched down and hooked it back up, "There you are."

James took this as his cue to pull Sirius away before another argument began. Also, he may or may not have wanted to get even closer to the red-head, "C'mon, mate, let it go, yeah? It's not worth it."

Narcissa huffed and strutted away. Lily had no choice but to follow at her heels, but to her admirer, she made it look like a power move.

"Ugh, remind me never to do that again!" Sirius collapsed onto the couch in the recording studio they rented next door to their label, Castle Records.

"James?" Remus asked his less distraught friend.

"Narcissa."

"Ah. At least it wasn't Bella."

The bespectacled boy sat at his drum kit and began to play a couple of mid-tempo rounds on the snare, cymbals, and base, creating the mood of a pursuit.

"Ooh, I like that," Peter switched the settings on his electronic keyboard to an eighties synth and joined in the jam.

Remus added the bass while Sirius plugged in his electric guitar.

It was three the next afternoon when Remus finished mixing the track and Sirius had no more unorthodox but cool ideas like, "Record the tires squealing while I do donuts in the parking lot on my motorbike and add it to the chorus!"

However, James, being ever the perfectionist when it came to music, kept wanting to re-record the drums and the others couldn't even talk him out of it because truthfully, it sounded better every time he did it.

When they reached the one-week mark, though, Sirius had to take action. "I called Molly. She's going to record our music video today and you know she's quick in post-production so whatever you've got is what we're running."

"Ugh, I hate you!" said James. He didn't.

Molly arrived at nine sharp and set up the lighting, did their hair and makeup, helped them pick coordinating but not matching outfits, and at ten exactly, called, "Action!"

Don't let her doe eyes fool you

She's been winning since the day she was born

Darlin' don't wanna lose you

Je ne parle pas français, mais j'adore

So I'm done playing hard to get

(You gotta chase her, chase her, gotta gotta chase her)

You're running circles in my head

(You gotta chase her, chase her, gotta gotta chase her)

And every word you ever said

(You gotta chase her, chase her, gotta gotta chase her)

Is calling my soul outta my body, must be in heav'n

Whoo!

"LilyLilyLily!" Mary squealed, barging into her friend's hotel room and clambering onto the bed, "We made it!"

Narcissa's lava dress had been trending all week and the Evans brand online store had finally crashed with the volume of orders they were trying to process at once for clothes, accessories, make up, and fragrances.

Her name is bloomin' in my heart

And every beat I beat is hers alone

Darlin' think of what we could start

Jamais seul ou triste, jamais pas en mode

"Jimbo! Jumbo! Jambo!" Sirius woke up his roommate with their first single blasting from his phone, "We made it!"

Their Chase Her music video had over a million views and the song was number one on Spotify.

And if our paths cross just this once

Could you be mine and I'll be yours

Tonight, darlin', we dance, we dance

Nous pourrions vivre pour toujours

Sirius guffawed at the comment section, "James: I don't speak French; Also James: Nous pourrions vivre pour toujours."

"Co-written by Google Translate," the singer quipped, putting on his glasses so he could see it all for himself, his smile coming close to breaking his pretty face.

Done being someone you'll forget

(You gotta chase her, chase her, gotta gotta chase her)

Cuz you're all I got gon' through my head

(You gotta chase her, chase her, gotta gotta chase her)

Yeah every word you ever said

(You gotta chase her, chase her, gotta gotta chase her)

Is calling my soul outta my body, must be in heav'n

Whoo!

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bcdrawsandwrites · 6 years

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Next entry for @badthingshappenbingo! (Also, mods from that blog, if you’re reading this--seems like Tumblr hiccuped when I made that last post and didn’t tag you properly, so here’s the other story I wrote, too.)

Reminder that I am still accepting prompts for this! Check out my initial post for the guidelines. Also note the current bingo card on this post–the things I mark with crossbones are completed prompts, and ones with a single bone are ones that have been requested, but not written yet.

(Fics are also posted to AO3 and FFN, but please just use the links in my blog desc to get to those ‘cuz I’m too tired to make links for them.)

Aaand here’s our next prompt, submitted by @shouldernova!

Prompt: Worked Themselves to Exhaustion Characters: Imelda, Coco, Óscar, Felipe, pre-movie

A week after Héctor left with Ernesto on the train out of Santa Cecilia, Coco’s left shoe began to fall apart. Ever the frugal one, Imelda had set about to fix it on her own, and found she wasn’t too bad at the task. This got her thinking, and as soon as she was able, she wrote to Héctor about her desire to learn to make shoes.

Héctor had been more than supportive of the idea. Not that she’d ever needed his approval, of course, but it always made her smile to see his support, even in written form. He’d even filled the letter with little drawings of shoes, which had gotten a laugh out of Coco. A shoemaker and a musician—they would be quite the pair!

He would send letters detailing the people he and Ernesto met, the places they would see, and the things they did. But of course, he would always go on about how much he missed his girls and how he couldn’t wait to see their faces again. He even wrote separate letters for Coco, usually on short scraps of paper and with big lettering for her to easily see. He would even send her poems and song lyrics, which delighted her to no end. (Sometimes Coco would ask Imelda to try to sing the new poems he would send, but it usually ended with the two of them laughing at Imelda’s woeful lack of songwriting talent.)

Every time he sent his letters and earnings, Imelda would immediately write up a letter to send back to him. It was an annoying process, having to mail it to the inn it was mailed from, with instructions to forward it to the next hotel (Héctor would always leave a note with the hotel staff to have the mail forwarded), but it made sure they both kept up with each other. Imelda was able to tell Héctor everything that happened while he was gone—about how she had been doing with her shoe-making apprenticeship, how Coco was doing and how much they missed him, how they’d been visiting regularly with her parents and brothers, and so on. She’d let Coco dictate a bit of the letter, too, which she could imagine made him smile.

But it wasn’t the same as his being there.

Coco was always asking Imelda about when Papá would come home, and unfortunately, the answer was always changing. Along with all the other things Héctor wrote to them about, there would also be the occasional update about their tour—invariably, about how it was going to be extended. A few more days, a few more weeks. Another month.

While Héctor had never been a doormat, he’d always had trouble saying no to Ernesto.

Still, Imelda admitted, he was working hard for them, and so was she.

She’d already started preparing to set up shop, but it was more difficult work than she’d anticipated—and not just in terms of paperwork and preparing the supplies. Even with the money Héctor sent her, the supplies she had to buy went a bit over her budget. Despite this, she was determined to keep going with one less meal a day for herself, as long as Coco was fed.

When the first orders came in, Imelda was nearly overwhelmed. She knew how to make all of these kinds of shoes, of course, but now she wasn’t apprenticing under a skilled shoemaker—she was working on her own. Still, she wasn’t going to let Coco know just how overwhelmed she felt. Instead, she would send Coco off to visit her grandparents and tíos while she worked alone at the house. Years from now she would probably think back to this moment and laugh at how overwhelmed she’d been at a handful of simple orders—she knew this, because she wasn’t going to give up. She knew things would be bumpy at the start, even if it was a bit more than she’d expected, and she knew that it wouldn’t be quite so hard once Héctor was home.

Several days later the orders were done and paid for, and the money came in. And sure enough, so did Héctor’s earnings. It still didn’t quite make up for the cost of starting the business, but that was okay—she could manage like this for a bit longer until more money came through. She could keep going until Héctor returned.

But as the weeks wore on, so did the tour.

“Don’t worry, mi amor, I’ll be back for Dia de Muertos.”

Dia de Muertos passed. Imelda lit candles for Héctor’s parents alongside the ones for her own relatives, and went back to work on her orders.

“It really shouldn’t be for much longer. I’ll definitely be there before my birthday.”

His birthday passed. Imelda and Coco wrote him birthday wishes and mailed them off to him.

“I’ll put my foot down this time. I’ll take the train home, and be there before Las Posadas.”

Las Posadas, Nochebuena, and Navidad all passed, and the letters had stopped coming.

When she and Coco came to stay at her parents’ place over the holiday (and after she managed to get away from explaining the shoe-making process to her brothers for the dozenth time), her mother drew her aside. “No man with any respect for his family skips Navidad,” she said. There was a long pause, as Imelda struggled for the words to say. “I told you this would happen event—”

“He’s coming back,” Imelda snapped back, and that was the end of it. She didn’t speak with her mother for the rest of her time there, and the next day, she and Coco went home.

Imelda was just getting back to her work orders when Coco stepped up to her. “When is Papá coming back?” she asked, and Imelda paused.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, staring at the shoes numbly. In all honesty, she’d answered her mother out of sheer stubbornness, though she knew that there had been some truth to her mamá’s words.

He’d said he would be home. He’d said he would put his foot down, and take the train home.

That was the last he’d said.

As she mulled it over, a worry came over her—what if he had taken the train, but something had happened?

The next opportunity she got, she headed for the train station, demanding to see the records of the passengers from Mexico City to Santa Cecilia. After a bit of prodding, the workers at the station relented, and she scoured the records for any mention of Héctor’s name, starting from the day he’d sent the letter and onward.

Nothing.

He’d never boarded the train, like he said he would. That meant one of two things: he’d changed his mind, or he’d been lying, and she wasn’t sure which was worse.

Imelda found herself partially saddened and partially angry at the thought, but there was another worry that gnawed at her: if he wasn’t sending letters, he wasn’t sending earnings, either. While part of her was angry at herself for thinking about money when her husband was surely the more important thing, she reminded herself firmly that their daughter was important, too. And even if Imelda could go without dinner every day, Coco could not.

So later that night, after tucking Coco in and after making some last-minute touches on her current orders, she did not immediately go to bed. Instead she sat at her desk with a pen and paper and began to work out the budget for her meager savings and earnings.

With the cost requirement for her shoemaking supplies combined with the cost for food, the money she made was simply not enough to cover both. The supplies were too important—she needed them to carry out the business. Feeding Coco was important as well, and making her go without a meal was unthinkable.

Two hours into the night, Imelda could find no other solution—she would have to limit her own meals again. She’d been learning to deal with going hungry in the evening, and she could learn to deal with a little less food. (Or she could ask her parents for help, but that would mean admitting she was wrong and that she could not take care of her family, which she refused to do.)

As the weeks went on, her limited budget and limited meals wore on her more than she’d anticipated. She was finding herself growing more and more tired, but people were pleased with her work, and the orders kept coming in. This should have meant more money, but she couldn’t keep up with the orders on her own, and the work continued to pile up.

And to twist the knife, Coco was still asking about Héctor.

“Why hasn’t he sent a letter, Mamá?” “Can you read me another letter?” “When is he coming home?”

When, indeed.

The thought made her angrier the more she thought about it—why hadn’t he come home? Why would he stop sending the letters? Stop sending money? Did he not care if Coco starved? Did he truly care more about his stupid friend, his stupid tour, his stupid music more than his family?

Imelda tried to put the thoughts out of her head—she had to focus on Coco and shoes right now. She had to, or there was no way she would survive.

But surviving was getting harder. It seemed sometimes that no matter how much work she did, it never got any easier, and the pile of orders never grew smaller. She was making shoes, ordering supplies, shopping, making food, and taking care of Coco, and it felt like it never ended.

At least before, relief would come in the form of Héctor’s letters—until she got to the parts stating that his tour was being extended yet again. Now she didn’t even have that, and instead of the thought of her husband bringing her joy, it brought her anger. That no-good músico—how could he leave her and Coco like this?! But… fine. If that cabrón thought he didn’t need her anymore, fine. She didn’t need him anymore, either, and she could take care of this business and raise Coco all on her own.

Imelda let her anger fuel her. It was all she had left.

But even stubbornness and anger were no match for the slow, steady stream of trouble that continued to chip away at her. Deep down, she knew it was only a matter of time before she would finally crack.

One day she sat at her work table, eyelids drooping as she worked on a pair of wingtips that was giving her trouble. They never had before, but in her exhaustion she’d made a mistake with the leather and had to start over on the left shoe. Even though she’d gone for some time with her adjusted diet, she still felt hunger gnawing at her—the eggs she’d had this morning didn’t make up for her small lunch and skipped dinner. On top of that, she found herself nodding off—sleeping through the night on an empty stomach was never easy—and had to constantly force herself to focus. She was so tired, and so hungry, but these shoes weren’t going to finish themselves, and money wasn’t going to keep coming in the mail.

No thanks to that no-good, stupid musi—

“Mamá, when is Papá coming home?”

The half-finished shoe struck against the table with a bang, followed by loud clattering noises as several tools fell to the floor.

“He’s not coming home, Coco!”

Imelda was standing, though she couldn’t remember getting up, and her mind didn’t immediately register the expression on her daughter’s face as she went on: “That man does not care about us anymore, and he is never coming home!”

It took her a moment to realize that Coco was taking several steps backward, eyes wide and hands covering her mouth. She then realized that she’d shouted at her daughter, and had struck the table, and had been glaring down at her, and—

Fiery anger was quickly drowned out by the cold numbness of shock. “Mija—”

“No!” Coco cried, taking a more deliberate step back and shaking her head. “Papá said he was coming home! He is! He’s going to come back!”

Angry tears stung at Imelda’s eyes, and she tried to keep them away. Stupid musician, look what you’ve done to your daughter, sending her those letters and making her hold onto a foolish hope for so long…! She shook her head, and she spoke again, not quite as harshly as before: “That man lied to you, mija. He stopped sending letters months ago. He’s not coming back.”

“No! No!” And Coco bolted, running past Imelda and out the door. “PAPA!”

“Coco!” Imelda cried, turning to run after her, only to step on one of the tools she’d knocked off the table and fall to the ground. She dropped to her knees and caught herself on her hands, scraping both palms against the floor, and shakily rose to her feet. The world seemed to spin for a moment at the thought that she’d lost her husband, and she couldn’t lose her daughter, too.

Fighting against the pain in her knees, she rushed out the door and looked around the courtyard, but Coco was nowhere in sight. Furthermore, the gate had been pushed open, just enough for a small child to get through.

“COCO!” Imelda shouted, yanking the gate open and looking down the road one way, then another.

She didn’t have to search long; a short distance down the road, Óscar and Felipe were crouched down, trying their best to soothe a sobbing and frantic Coco. Imelda heaved deep sigh, grateful that her brothers had apparently decided to pay her a visit today.

She walked toward the three at a careful pace, wary of making Coco run off again. As she got closer, she could make out some of the words her daughter was babbling: “G-gonna be back… o-o-on the train… s-s-said he’d be…”

Felipe was the first to look up at Imelda, giving her a questioning look as he rubbed Coco’s back. She only shook her head—she didn’t want to talk to them about this while Coco was there to hear. Seeming to sense this, Felipe wordlessly nudged Óscar, who patted his niece’s back before standing up.

While Felipe picked up Coco, Óscar approached Imelda, looking her up and down. He seemed to note the scuff marks on her apron and red patches on the heels of her hands, but his gaze lingered on her face. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

In spite of the shame she felt in her chest, she refused to look away from Óscar’s gaze. “I… I snapped at Coco,” she admitted, hating the way her voice was beginning to waver.

“She wanted to go to the train station,” Óscar said, looking back to Felipe, who was bouncing Coco around. The little girl gave a soft, tired giggle. “I… guess she thinks Héctor will be there.”

“He won’t be,” Imelda said, finally turning away. “He never will be.”

Seconds later, she felt Óscar’s hand on her shoulder. “You’re working too hard, hermana. Don’t think no one’s noticed.” He paused. “…Even Coco.”

Imelda gave a start, glancing over her shoulder.

Óscar nodded. “She told us that you told her that… that adults don’t need to eat as much as little niñas.”

“It’s true,” she said, looking her brother in the eye. “Coco’s a growing girl.” But, seeing his unconvinced look, she heaved a sigh. “I’ve been cutting some of my own meals. But I’ll be all right, once I earn enough money to—”

“How long have you been going like this?”

Imelda paused, not because she didn’t want to answer, but because she’d been doing it for so long she’d legitimately forgotten when she’d started. It wasn’t after the letters stopped—no, it was sometime before that, when… “…Since I started the business.”

“Imelda!” Óscar cried, throwing out his arms. Some distance behind him, Felipe and Coco looked up in surprise before her brother quickly went back to distracting her. “You’re going to kill yourself like this!”

“You’re one to talk!” Imelda snapped. “I can’t count the times you two would get hurt from your absurd experiments!”

Óscar flinched back, arms wrapped around his middle. “W-we’re just… worried about you,” he said, looking away. “You… you haven’t been yourself since Héctor left.”

Slowly she realized that she’d snapped at someone, again, and rubbed at her forehead. “…Lo siento,” she said, heaving a sigh. “I didn’t mean to shout.”

“It’s okay,” he said, though his tone didn’t say the same. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him motion to Felipe, who came closer. “Listen, um… We weren’t sure if this was the right time, but—”

“—Óscar and I were thinking,” Felipe went on. “Mamá and Papá have been wanting us to get a job for ourselves, and we’re—”

“—both very interested in the whole shoe-making process.” Now Óscar was starting to perk up. “You won’t have to—”

“—teach us much, since we’ve already—”

“—memorized it from what you told us.”

“Just need to watch it a few times.”

“Two.”

“Or three.”

“And then we could join you!” they finished.

Coco, still in Felipe’s arms, giggled at the two’s back-and-forth speech. She still had dried tear stains on her face.

Imelda looked from her daughter to her brothers, thinking this through. Her brothers would be two more mouths to feed, but she knew they spoke the truth when they insisted they were fast learners. If they could help her with work, she could finish the orders faster, and take on more orders at once… meaning more pay. Meaning she might not have to skip meals any longer.

It was hard, knowing that Héctor would probably never come back, but…

Looking at her two brothers staring at her eagerly and her daughter looking up at them, she knew—that musician may have abandoned her, but her family had not.

She was going to be okay.

#imelda rivera #coco rivera #hector rivera #coco #pixar coco #coco spoilers #rivera family #my writing #fanfic #yaaaaay another fic down #this one was a bit of a fight to get written but I did it!!#writing the whole thing like 'plz imelda take care of yourself sheesh'

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cynicallystiles · 6 years

Text

Beach Sunrises: Kid in Love

Author: @cynicallystiles

Warning: Physical harassment, slight physical abuse, mentions of girls loving girls, bar fight, cop evasion, reckless behavior, cursing, and some slight teasing of smut.

Abbreviations: y/e/c = your eye color

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x Reader

Summary: While on tour one day, Shawn sees a woman watching the sunrise by herself. Thinking that he’ll never see her again, he tries to forget as he goes on with the rest of his day. But, serendipity seems to have other ideas…

Notes: Yo, I gave up sleep to finish this on time for y’all. Enjoy my dark and twisty mind. PLEASE REBLOG OR COMMENT if you like it! I always welcome messages and asks about my work! Enjoy! P.S. Two fics in one day is unheard of for me.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 2 Part 4

Words: 5,560

First P.O.V.

I manage to shakily get the tray back to the table. When Xander notices my return, he immediately starts acting weird. "You got my favorite!!" He exclaims before he pulls me in for a hug. "Okay, so I have the perfect song for you to sing next!"

I look at him skeptically. "What if I wanted to pick my own solo song?"

"Then I would have to say tough luck," he says truthfully. "Because your birthday night is really about me and what I want. Didn't you know?"

I cock my head to the side. "What's going on? Not even you would dare make my birthday about you," I squint at him.

"Technically, it's not your birthday. So ha!" He grins at me mischievously.

I sigh heavily. "What's the song?" I know there's no changing his mind once he starts bringing loopholes into the equation.

"Yay! Okay. So you're gonna sing IDEKYN," he says excitedly.

I lean against the tall table, despite my small height. "Okay...why that one? I mean there are so many Shawn songs you love hearing me sing. That's not one of them," I interrogate him.

"Maybe I want to hear something new on my own personal radio," he beams at me.

I glare at him intimidatingly. After not being able to read any clues on his face, I give in. "Your wish is my command," I say as I roll my eyes. He claps excitedly and we both grab a toothpick with a melon ball.

I raise mine to him and he does the same before we both eat it and then down the shots they came with. Anna finishes her song just as I leave the table. We pass each other and I shoot her a wink before we high-five.

I settle in on a bar stool as I adjust the mic. After doing so, the DJ makes a corny joke about me getting a standing ovation for this next one. The alcohol must be starting to set in because I find that extremely funny and can't help but laugh.

After signaling that I'm ready, the songs starts. I start out sitting down and by the time the song picks up, I'm standing and walking around the stage with the mic. It's fun to just bop along and do my own little dance moves to it.

As I get to the end of the song a glance over at our table to see Xander and Anna cheering me on. But, they're not alone. I can't quite make out who it is from this distance. It's a guy. Tall. Curly-ish hair. Surely, Xander hasn't picked up a guy already?

I finish the last lyric and bow while everyone claps. Of course, I can hear Anna calling for an encore. "I'm gonna take a brief intermission, guys! And when I come back...prepare to have your socks knocked off!" I giggle as I set the mic back in the stand and hop offstage.

My head is feeling slightly dizzy, and I can tell that I should probably start cutting back on the drinks or I'm not waking up until the evening tomorrow. I glance at the clock as I make my way back to the table. 12:39. A little less than two hours until I'll be cozy in my bed.

The closer I get to the table, the taller this mystery person seems to get. Xander sees me approaching and a wicked grin takes over his features. Meanwhile, Anna stands behind him and eyes the man suspiciously. I cock my eyebrow at her and she just shrugs like she had no part in it.

As I am finally within earshot of the table, I begin speaking. "Xander, what have we told you about picking up strays-" I begin to chuckle but it gets caught in my throat as the man turns his head toward me. I must be really drunk because there is no way that this is who I think it is.

He smiles broadly when he sees me. It's when he introduces himself that I know this isn't an alcoholic hallucination. "I'm Shawn. Though you probably already knew that seeing as how you were at my concert..." he laughs nervously.

My mouth almost drops but I force it to stay closed. I don't want to seem too weird. "Uh...yeah? Yeah, I did know that..." I shoot a glance at Xander who is giggling to himself. "Did you buy me Shawn Mendes for my birthday?"

Xander almost spits out his drink and even Shawn lets out a chuckle. I look back and forth between the two, while still observing the quietness of Anna in all this.

"Xander...It's really sweet and all, but I think he's a little out of your price range," I say feeling the alcohol in my system. He's about to say something back when I continue speaking, "I think you should probably return him to the store and get your money back. You'll be in debt for a very long time if you don't."

Oh, my god. Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking!

I'm convinced that I'm thoroughly making a fool of myself when Shawn cracks up laughing. Xander does as well. "Oh honey, I'm well aware he's out of budget," Xander tells me as he lays a hand on my shoulder.

"Xander invited him to come when he went back to get your purse," Anna explains uninterestedly.

I look over at Shawn, who's already looking at me with concentration. "Why'd he do that?" I blurt out.

"Because I actually asked if I could tag along," Shawn tells me with a small giggle. He is even more beautiful up close.

I continue to stare intently at his honey eyes. "Has anyone ever told you that you're more beautiful up close? 'Cuz you are..."

He shakes his head with a bashful smile. "Thanks. I don't think I actually have," he confesses.

My cheeks heat up and I realize that I'm being ridiculous. "I'm sorry! I didn't know I'd be meeting anyone important or I wouldn't have drank as much..." I comb my hair out of my face gently.

"No! It's alright," he says through laughs, "you're being honest. I like it." He smiles sincerely and I remember that Xander and Anna are still here.

I tear my gaze away from Shawn as I turn back to the group. "So, who's singing with me next?" I ask with a smile as I drum my hands on the table.

Xander and Anna exchange a look before looking back at me and Shawn. Xander with an excited look and Anna with a roll of her eyes. What is with her tonight? I glance down at the tray of shots.

"Hey...where'd all the shots go?" I look around concerned.

Xander speaks first, "I drank some and gave the rest away. Neither of us needs anymore..."

"Xander!! I paid for all of those! They were a lot," I say incredulously, the words coming out slower than I intended.

He shrugs. "You'll thank me for it later."

"Yeah, I'll thank you when you pay me back for each one you gave away," I grumble at him.

I feel a light touch on my shoulder and swing my head in the direction of it. This action caused me to get lightheaded for a brief moment. The source of the touch is Shawn, and my whole arm tingles.

"I still haven't gotten your name," he says with a shy smile.

My eyes widen and I laugh slightly. "Right! Sorry. I'm y/n. It is very nice to meet you," I say happily as I shake his tattooed hand. God, his hands are big.

Xander clears his throat and I let go of Shawn's hand. Not realizing that he was still holding onto mine as well.

Third P.O.V.

As she lets go of Shawn's hand, a slight blush creeps up her neck. She turns her attention back to Xander and Anna to begin discussing her next song. Shawn hardly hears anything they're saying because he's so focused on looking at her. She's so close he can see every single feature clearly now.

Even in the dimness of the bar lights, he can see that her eyes are an intense y/e/c. Her lips look soft despite the tiny cracks from dry weather. And when she smiles broadly as a laugh overtakes her body, he can see the dimples at the corners of her mouth. God, he wanted to kiss those dimples.

"Shawn?"

The sound of his name being called brings him back to reality. "Huh?" He asks shyly as he looks around at the staring faces. His eyes keep coming back to hers though.

Her nose crinkles again as she giggles with a closed smile. "We were asking what you thought I should do for my next song," she says.

"Oh. Uh..." He tries to think quickly as if he weren't just studying her as if she were some sample under a microscope.

She can tell that he wasn't paying attention. But, it doesn't bother her. She knows exactly what it's like to get so wrapped up in her own world that she doesn't know other people are around.

As she looks at him, her features light up with the ghost of an idea. "What if you did a duet with me?" Her smile slants as she chews on the inside of her lip.

"Me? No, I couldn't," he says nervously as he looks around. Her smile almost disappears and he quickly continues. "I-I mean I want to. It's just-I mean the people," he looks around again.

She contorts her face in a silly but confused way as she cocks her head at him. "Shawn, you just sang in front of a whole bunch of people. It's what you do," she finishes with a giggle at his awkwardness.

He loves the way she says his name like they're best friends. Like they didn't just meet in a bar after one of his concerts. It rolls off of her tongue as if she's been saying his name for her entire life.

He takes too long to respond as he thinks these things. So with a determined look on her face, she makes up his mind for him. "No one here is gonna know who you are. They're all old," she explains.

Before he can protest, she grabs his hand with her much tinier one and begins to drag him towards the stage. Despite him being a foot taller and probably a lot heavier than her, she's got some pull when she wants something. Not that Shawn was trying that hard to fight it. He was too focused on relishing in the fact that she was holding his hand.

She pushes him toward the stage as she goes over and whispers a song into the DJs ear. He grins as if it's a great song selection and begins setting it up. She bounds back over and up the small stairs to the stage, grabbing his hand along the way. Once onstage, she drags him to the middle and comes to a stop. She bounces in place with so much energy that it eases his nerves.

"So, what song did you pick?" Shawn asks as he looks down at her.

She immediately grins widely. "You're friends with Charlie Puth, right?" She bites her lip to contain her excited giggles.

"Um, yeah. But, I don't-" he begins but is cut off by the DJ getting the attention of the club.

He feels a slight pressure on his hand and he looks down. She never let go of his hand. Is she only being this touchy because she's been drinking? Is it only because he's him? Shawn said he likes the honesty that her tipsy state brings, but it also brings the question of what her regular personality is.

"If you forget the words, they're in front of us," she says encouragingly as she points to the screen.

She lets go of his hand to get the mics and he realizes how sweaty his hands are. He tries to discreetly wipe them on his pants as she approaches and hands him his mic. Before he can say anything else the song begins with his turn.

He stumbles at first. Partly because of nerves and partly because it took him a second to realize the song. But, he got into the groove of it. She danced adorably as he sang his verses, chiming in as the background singer. Seeing her so vibrant and having fun helped him relax.

It was when her turn started that things got interesting. She started dancing around him. Innocently, at first, as she made sassy gestures along with her lyrics. He sang backup for her and even bopped his body along to the beat. He couldn't help the smile that took over his face. Then she began running her hands over his chest and shoulders as she circled him. Every touch left a trail of tingling.

She reached the pre-chorus and he lost all focus. At the line "I won't fall to the ground on my knees" she proceeded to press her back against his chest and slide down his front to the floor. Then, she slid back up. It was quick in reality, but for Shawn, it felt like an eternity. He managed to sing his backup lines, his voice almost cracking when he repeated the word "knees."

He couldn't count how many times he gulped during the rest of that song. Before he knew it, the song was over and she was bowing over dramatically for the crowd. As she looks over, she realizes he's not bowing. She scoots over and grabs his hand so they can do a theater-style bow.

She moves to let go in order to return to the table, but he holds on. As she looks at him with wide eyes, he steps closer to her. In that moment he forgets that anyone else exists. He just wants to kiss her. As he switches his focus between her eyes and her lips, he steps closer again.

Shawn really should've remembered that there were people watching.

First P.O.V.

Still breathless from all the dancing and singing, we make our way back to the table and Anna decides to go sing another song. If I'm being honest, I'm also breathless from the way Shawn was looking at me. The way he was looking at my lips and inching closer.

I had let go of his hand when Xander started hollering about getting a room. As we sat at the high-chairs next to the table we didn't say much. I didn't want to make a fool of myself in front of him like I did at the beginning. Anna begins singing "Gravity" by Sara Bareilles.

"Xander! You let her pick this song?" I say as she begins singing sadly.

He looks at me shocked. "I'm not her mother, y/n. If she wants to sing a sad song, then let her," he states.

"She just depressing herself. I thought she was over this," I say as I roll my eyes.

Shawn speaks up as we continue to watch this sad display. "Uh, thought she was over what?"

"She fell in love with one of her friends," I begin as my eyes remain on Anna.

Xander chimes in to finish as my heart starts hurting for her. "The girl didn't like her back. Not that she didn't like girls. But, she specifically only saw her as a friend," he trails off as his eyes ghost over mine before turning to Anna.

Neither of us dares to say the name of the girl out loud. Not being able to bear watching it anymore, I excuse myself from the table. "I'm gonna go get water or a soda. You guys want anything?"

Xander shakes his head and I turn to Shawn. "Yeah, I'll come with you," he offers as he throws one last glance back at the stage.

Once at the bar and our orders are taken, he turns to me. "You were the girl weren't you?" He asks.

All I do is nod once, not elaborating on the story. "How'd you know?"

"Just this vibe I got from her. Like she wasn't exactly happy that I tagged along and sang with you. Or that I probably seem interested in you," he says as his voice grows quieter.

My eyes snap up to his. "You're interested in me?"

"Yeah. I mean, I can't get you out of my head since-" he cuts himself off but I finish his sentence.

"Since, you saw me on the beach this morning."

"How-"

"Instagram. Obviously." I chuckle and he visibly releases a breath he was holding. As if he was relieved that I'm not mad about him recording me.

"Sorry..." He says shyly.

I step closer to him, craning my neck to look into his eyes. "Don't be..."

He leans his head down as I rise up on my toes to lessen the distance. As if neither of us had any control over our bodies, the distance got smaller. His nose brushed against mine and both of our lips are hesitant. Before we can kiss, Shawn is yanked back by an unknown force.

"Hey!" Shawn and I both yell instinctually.

I come out of my haze and see the full picture. A hand had grasped Shawn by the collar of his jacket and pulled him back before shoving him hard into the wall.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I yell angrily.

The man stares at me with hatred in his eyes. "What the fuck is wrong with you? You pretend like you don't want attention coming to the bar dressed like that. But, then you get onstage and dance provocatively up against some kid?!"

It's the man from earlier who hit on me. At this point, I'm no longer scared. I'm pissed. "Listen, I don't even fucking know you. So, why don't you quit being a creep and go hit on someone who doesn't have standards?!" I spit the words out, repulsed.

"You're gonna pay for that-" he begins as he ascends on me. He grabs my arm and twists it towards him.

The grasp is ripped free when the man is shoved to the ground. I look up and see Shawn standing there, seething. "Don't you fucking touch her." His words are like ice and nothing I've ever heard on him before. Threatening.

The disgusting man doesn't give up so easily, though. He quickly stands to his feet and sucker punches Shawn. At this point, the whole bar has turned their attention towards us.

Anna stands frozen onstage, the song cut off by the DJ because of the commotion. Xander is attempting to get to the bar but people have gotten up from their seats to see better.

"Shawn!" I yell as I attempt to move toward him.

"I don't think so, little lady," the man grumbles as he advances toward me.

Years of self-defense classes kick in. As soon as he's within range, I wind up my foot and kick squarely in between his legs. He hunches over in pain, and as he's distracted I take the back of his head with my hands to slam his face into my knee. He looks at me, barely standing anymore.

Win all the next fights. Finish him off.

Without hesitating a second further, I pull back my fist with all my strength and bash his face once before he goes down. Still running on adrenaline, I race over and find Shawn.

"Shawn!" He looks at me and removes his hand from holding his face. "Oh, my god your lip!"

"It's fine. Are you-" he begins as his hand reaches for my arm, but is cut off by the sound of sirens outside.

Our heads whip around the room and see the DJ on the phone. Apparently, he thought it was gonna get nasty.

"You gotta go! If the press finds out-" I begin rambling in panic-mode as I look for a way out that's not the front.

"What about you? I'm not gonna leave you!" He says urgently.

"I'll meet you outside, but you gotta go now! I'll be right behind you," I command as I push him towards an employee entrance.

"But-"

"GO!"

He rushes through the door and the cops charge through the door. Everyone panics and begins running around drawing the attention of the cops, all running for their own reasons. I dart toward Xander at the table.

"We gotta go!" I say as I grab my purse.

"How the hell did you pummel that guy?" He asks incredulously.

"Now is not the time!" Without waiting to see if they were behind me, I run to the employee entrance and out the emergency exit. Once outside, I can see there are still a few cops standing in front of the door.

I discreetly begin walking toward Xander's car. As they see me they immediately call for my attention. "Hey! Miss! No one is allowed to leave!"

As they take a step toward me, fight or flight kicks in. I choose flight. I break off into a sprint away from the parking lot, not bothering to wait for Xander. As I'm running down the street in the direction of the hotel a car pulls up beside me with the window down.

"Y/n, get in!" It's Shawn. He must've seen me bolt. I quickly clamor into the car and he takes off speeding away from the venue.

As soon as we are a few blocks away, he slows to a regular speed. The adrenaline begins to slow down and I breathe heavily, muscles shaking. Shawn is breathing the same.

Despite myself, I begin giggling.

"Y/n?"

I continue giggling and it breaks into full-on laughter. The longer Shawn watches me, the more a smile breaks out on his face. Eventually, he's laughing hysterically with me.

The laughter dies down and the situation sets in. I'm still feeling the alcohol, and also the adrenaline. So, I unbuckle my seatbelt and begin crawling out the window.

"Y/n! Get back in the car! What the hell are you doing?"

I come to a sitting position in the window with my legs hanging inside the car, steadying myself with my arms on the roof. "I'm living, Shawn!" I yell happily.

As he drives down the empty streets, I let out several "WHOO-HOOS" at the top of my lungs.

"Do it with me, Shawn!" I urge him.

Eventually, he joins in and I can tell he's having fun. Our fun is interrupted when my stomach growls. I lower myself back into the car and look at the time. 1:15.

"Hey, Shawn?" I say as I look over at him.

"Yeah?" He glances at me as he bites his bottom lip to contain his grin.

"You hungry?" I smirk as I imitate his lame pick up line.

He glances at me again. His eyes different this time. "Absolutely."

Third P.O.V.

“Know any places that are open this late?” Shawn asks as he keeps his eyes on the road.

“Oh, my gosh. Yes,” she says giddily before giving him directions.

A few minutes later they pull up to a drive-thru on the outside of an old-style diner. The machine crackles and a voice comes through the box.

“Welcome to Benny’s Diner, home of our famous cheesy dogs. May I take your order?”

Before Shawn can lean out the window and respond, y/n has unbuckled her seatbelt again. She quickly climbs over him, hanging her top half out of the window and her bottom half in the air in front of Shawn.

He shifts in his seat trying to contain his arousal by this position. She looks back in the window and smirks at him. She knows exactly what she’s doing to him.

“Bennyyy!!! My man!! How’s the midnight rush?” She jokes as if she’s familiar with the server.

“Y/n? Is that you?” He asks with a chuckle.

“The one and only! And I brought a friend!” She continues chatting as her butt wiggles unconsciously.

Shawn has got to get her off of his lap because this view is killing him. He’s about to just have at her in the drive-thru.

She finally makes an order. A rather large one, Shawn thinks, for someone of her size. But, he remembers she also ordered for him as well. They pull up to the front window and he shifts in his seat to reach his wallet.

“No, no, no! This is on me!” She says before crawling across him again. This time quicker than the last. Finally, the food is ready and they park in the lot to eat the food.

He begins to open the bags, but she quickly exits the car. She takes her food and shake with her. “Y/n, where are you going?”

“Just c’mon,” she says as she pokes her head back in the window before disappearing just as fast.

It’s 1:30 at night. They’ve already evaded cops tonight, drove down the streets screaming as she hung out the window, and yet he would still follow her further.

He gets out and follows her to the rear of the car where she climbs up and sits on the top of the vehicle. Chuckling, he imitates her actions. He already knows better than to question her motives.

They sit in silence as he watches her basically inhale 3 large orders of cheesy bacon fries, 2 small mozzarella stick orders, and half of her shake. He must be staring because she stops mid-sip and looks at him.

“Oh, my god. I’m being disgusting aren’t I?” She shakes her head as she covers her mouth with her hand.

He reaches over and tucks some hair behind her ear. His fingertips brush her cartilage piercing and she heats up at the touch. His touch did things to her. Dangerous things.

“You’re not,” he says reassuringly with a content smile. “I’m just trying to figure out where you put it all.”

She giggles. “I’m like the Flash,” she says as she takes another sip, “I burn calories so fast that I have to eat all the time.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

He laughs at this. God, she was funny. She takes her phone out as he continues eating. “Oh, shit.”

“What’s wrong?” He looks up from his burger.

She sighs as she sets her phone back down. “My phone is dead so I can’t call Xander to let him know we’re okay. We kind of bailed on him.” She holds back a laugh because she knows it’s inappropriate.

“You can use mine,” he hands it over without hesitation.

She takes it shyly and opens up the dialing part. Her thumbs hover over the numbers. “Fuck. I have no idea what his number is,” she laughs.

“How do you not know your best friend’s number?” He questions with a chuckle.

She shrugs as she hands his phone back. “It’s automatically saved. Speed dial, ya know? The only numbers I have memorized are mine, my mom’s and-“ She cuts herself off, looking down at her criss-crossed lap.

“And?” He asks but immediately regrets it.

She sips her milkshake again and realizes that it’s empty. “And nobody. Just my moms and mine.” Just like that, her outgoing and giggly demeanor was gone. Locked away behind something that hurt her.

“So...” he tries to find something to say to lighten the mood, but he’s at a loss for words.

“What time is it?” She asks abruptly.

He checks his watch. “1:45, why?”

She takes a sharp inhale of breath. “It’s late, I should really get home.”

She gathers up her trash and walks over to throw it in the dumpster. Her movements slower than they were when they were on their wild adventure. When she returns she immediately gets in the car and waits for Shawn to drive her home.

He’s mentally kicking himself, wondering what flipped so quickly. And how he could get her to come back out of her shell. He didn’t want her to retreat. He wanted to know everything about her. But, she didn’t want him to know anything.

It’s not long before they are back at the hotel. She hesitated at the elevator, debating whether to go back to her room or his. She steps in just before the door closes.

“Can I use your phone when we get in?” She asks quietly.

“Of course.”

Once inside his room, she takes the phone to the bathroom. He looks at the bedside table. The clock says 2. He begins to hear her voice muffled on the other side of the door. He doesn’t want to eavesdrop so he begins to change out of the sweaty and slightly bloody clothes.

After about ten minutes, she exits the bathroom. Her expression a little brighter than before. “Thanks for letting-“ she stops when she looks up and sees him standing there shirtless.

“Oh! Sorry, I was just,” he fumbles around for something to put on. “I was just changing, I didn’t know-“

She silently walks over to the bedside table and sets the phone down. Then, she turns to Shawn and her eyes roam the bareness of his chest. She makes her way closer to him.

He doesn’t know what’s happening so he stands still. Almost as if he were trying not to startle a deer. Once she reaches him, her hand extends out to cup his jaw. Her thumb brushes over the cut on his lip from the punch. It’s scabbed now.

“Oh, no,” she says quietly. Almost to herself as she continues to scrutinize the cut.

“Y/n, I’m alright,” he tries to assure her. But, his physical health his not what she’s worried about.

His arm reaches out and brushes over her arm where the man grabbed her. She almost winces, the outline of a bruise forming. “You’re hurt,” he observes.

“I’m not the one who has a meet and greet in two days where tons of pictures will be taken...” Her thumb strokes his lip absentmindedly. Her gaze betrays her and Shawn knows that she blames herself somehow.

He moves his hand to brush her cheek, his fingers finding resting places behind her ear and into her hair. His large thumb strokes her cheekbone lightly. “Why is the press your only concern? Even when we were in the bar, your first thought was to protect me from getting caught in bad publicity...”

Her eyes finally leave his lip and she looks into his honey eyes. Her expression softens. “Because that’s your life, Shawn. Your life is about your image and I didn’t want to be the one to screw it up...”

“Hey,” he says as his eyebrows furrow. “You do not have to put the weight of my career on your shoulders. We just met-“

“We just met and I’m already almost getting you arrested,” she cuts him off, but there is only shame in her voice. “I admire you. I admire you and the way you treat people with kindness. Your newest song? It’s gonna reach people in ways that music should. You have important messages to share and what kind of fan would I be if I ruined your image?”

She’s so good. Wise beyond her small age of 21. She sees the big pictures and the tiniest details that go into them. She was hurt, and he could tell she had a past and secrets that she didn’t want to share. But, she was kind. And she was radiant. Most importantly, she saw him. She sees through the celebrity part of it all to understand him, and what he’s really about.

His entire body moves of its own accord as the hand in her hair pulls her forward. The other hand snaking behind her to the small of her back. He leans down and gently, but fiercely attaches his lips to hers. She sighs into his lips and one of her hands grips the hair at the base of his head. Her other one reaching up to cup his hand around her ear.

It’s passionate. Neither had even used their tongue yet. Just movement and synchronicity in their kisses. Shawn is surprised by how much restraint he’s showing. That is until she instinctually nibbles his bottom lip. Hell breaks loose inside of him as he grips her thighs raises her up. She assists with a jump and wraps her legs around his waist.

He walks slowly towards the bed, wanting to give her time to back out. But, she didn’t. His knees reach the bed and he lays her down gently, but quickly as he hovers over her. His pendant dangles just over the space between her collarbones before he reconnects their lips.

Both of them are kind of in a trance with how much every touch tingles. Shawn knew deep in his bones that this was meant to be. But, a question lurked in the back of his mind the whole time. Did she feel the same?

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lpdwillwrite4coffee · 7 years

Text

Awww yiiissssss, get to know me memes are the best!

I was tagged by @kteague cuz my girl knows what’s up (I love this shit, I can’t help it).

I’m gonna go with @asnowballschance @priya212 @cemeterydreamer @asocialfauxpas @purelyfueledbycaffeine But no pressure! Under the cut for obvious reasons.

Rules: you must answer these 85 statements and tag 20 whoever you’d like!!

The Last …

1. drink: coffee

2. phone call: real estate agent (I’m such an adult haha)

3. text message: friend telling me she has poison ivy

4. song you listened to: Bellbottoms by the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion. I got back from seeing Baby Driver and immediately needed the soundtrack in my life.

5. time you cried: A couple days ago. I was super overwhelmed with life ~stuff and just needed to cry it out.

Have you ever …

6. dated someone twice: No but I’ve thought about it.

7. kissed someone and regretted it: YES. Ugh.... Several. (feel free to ask for details on those train wrecks haha)

8. been cheated on: Not that I’m aware of...

9. lost someone special: Oh yes.

10. been depressed: Yes, been on medication for it and then off meds. I was incorrectly diagnosed with clinical depression when it was situational and because of my own past traumas and emotional abuse.

11. gotten drunk and thrown up: Yes, I just can’t remember how many times... 2? 3? I think?

Favorite Colors…

12. Cobalt blue

13. Rich, royal purple

14. Emerald green

In The Last Year Have You…

15. made new friends: Yes!! IRL and online (y’all know who you are, and if you don’t I’ll come tell you)

16. fallen out of love: It’s been a couple years since I’ve *been* in love.

17. laughed until you cried: So many times.

18. found out someone was talking about you: In a negative way, yep, and it sucked. I thought we were friends... In a positive way? I think so! Well, found out people were happy about what I was doing and my work. So that’s been super lovely!!

19. met someone who changed you: Definitely.

20. found out who your friends are: Yeah, some friendships have fallen apart or been tested. That’s never fun.

21. kissed someone on your facebook list: Yes

General

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: Most? I tend to accept friend requests from people I don’t *know* but have lots of mutuals with and I’m sure we’ve run into each other or run in the same circles. So like, 85%?

23. do you have any pets: MY LIGHT OF MY LIFE, MY DOG ODIN. HE’S THE BEST AND I WILL SCREAM ABOUT HIM FOR DAYS IF YOU LET ME.

24. do you want to change your name: Ahaha, I’ve already changed my name. I used to go by my middle name and then started going by my first when I changed schools. I’ve changed my last name too. I’d make a mediocre spy.

25. what did you do for your last birthday: On my actual birthday, I got lunch with friends out and then had dinner made for me by other friends/my surrogate family (they made me steak) And then that weekend I went out for drinks with friends and my favorite bar tender bought me a round and gave me the special pint glass. It was a great birthday week.

26. what time did you wake up: 5:45.... uggghhh.

27. what were you doing at midnight last night: I was surprisingly asleep! Good job adulting Lauren, you went to bed on time.

28. name something you can’t wait for: I’m stealing one of my answers from K- The Punisher series! Also, moving to MA, finishing my second book, getting a new house, and currently I can’t wait for my second cup of coffee.

29. when was the last time you saw your mom: September I think........... Yeah, that sounds right.

31. what are you listening to right now: My co-worker’s FB messenger going off...

32. have you ever talked to a person named Tom: I... think so? Sure. I’m sure I have.

33. something that is getting on your nerves: My co-worker’s FB messenger going off!!! (Vibrate is a setting. USE IT.)

34. most visited website: Tumblr, Pinterest, and Gmail.

35. hair color: Strawberry blonde/ red, and currently with purple, copper, and bright red highlights.

36. long or short hair: Short, asymmetrical cut. I used to have long mermaid hair and chopped it all off. Showering takes WAY less time now haha.

37. do you have a crush on someone: I had a crush on an old co-worker, but I left and haven’t seen him in so long that it’s faded. Celebrity crushes? YO HOW MUCH TIME DO YOU HAVE??

38. what do you like about yourself: I’d like to think I’m funny but Idek lol. I’m creative and passionate. I’m a good friend to people. I’m really proud of my empathy and compassion, especially in a world that tells you not to be. I’m also not to be fucked with, and I like that about myself. I like that I can fit into different groups, chill with different kinds of people, and no one can put labels on me because I don’t fit any mold at all.

39. piercings: Hold on lemme count... 11!

40. blood type: SHit, I should probably know this about myself... O.... Positive? Negative? I’m an O, I know that much! (bad job adulting Lauren. Bad job)

41. nickname: I don’t really have a nickname... Not that I’m aware of anyway. I’m not opposed to one! But my names don’t really make for good nickname material haha.

42. relationship status: single, and TOTALLY fine with that. Ya girl is too busy for that relationship stuff right now.

43. zodiac: Scorpio

44. pronouns: She/her

45. favorite tv show: Listen, stop trying to make me pick between my children I love them all equally okay?

46. tattoos: I have to count again, hold on.... 8!

47. right or left handed: right-handed

48. surgery: A few times. 4 maybe?

49. piercing: see above.

50. sport: That I played? Volleyball (very poorly I might add). That I watch? Baseball. The only sport I give 2 shits about is baseball. And maybe rugby if it’s on and I like the team.

51. vacation: I have a girls weekend planned for the end of this month. My last true vacation was to Beaufort with @asnowballschance and then up to North Adams, MA to visit a friend who had moved. Man I’ve traveled a lot this year...

52. pair of trainers: I have one pair of true “trainers”. The rest are like Converse sneakers or slip ons that can’t be used for actual physical activity, they just make me look sporty haha.

More General

53. eating: Home made trail mix for breakfast

54. drinking: Water... and more coffee

55. i’m about to: email my realtor, refill my water bottle, and start writing. I have a Camp NaNo word count to get to.

56. waiting for: NEWS ABOUT THE PUNISHER. GIVE IT YOU ANIMALS. Also waiting for the caffeine to kick in....

57. want: to find a house in my price range that DOESN’T need serious remodels. Seriously, I’m not Bob Villa. Let it be move in ready or close to it please and thank you.

58. get married: Yes! Absolutely! But the dude has to show up first... haha

59. career: Writer/author. I mean, I work an office job to pay the bills but that’s not my career.

60. hugs or kisses: Both? plz love me.

61. lips or eyes: Eyes! I’m so enamored with people’s eyes- the color, the shape, the way they show emotion, the way they change in the light. I love it.

62. shorter or taller: Taller? I’m 5′8 almost 5′9 so sometimes that’s hard to find...

63. older or younger: Older. I have the hardest time finding anyone my age who is compatible.

64. nice arms or nice stomach: Arrrrmmmmmssss. Not jacked. Just strong. Broad shoulders and a wide, strong chest makes me WEAK

65. hook up or relationship: Both, depending on my mood. I’m currently hooking up with a couple people, but I’m so not wanting to date.

66. troublemaker or hesitant: Hahahahha, I’m called the human embodiment of the grinning Devil emoji for a reason.

67. kissed a stranger: Yes. It was..........

68. drank hard liquor: Lord help me yes.

69. lost glasses/contact lenses: My glasses are my everything. I’m so blind without them it’s awful. I never take them off.

70. turned someone down: Many times. I’m a picky girl.

71. sex on the first date: Sure, I’ve done it before. Worked out fine!

72. broken someone’s heart: Yeahh... It sucked at the time but it was necessary.

73. had your heart broken: Yes, in more ways than one.

74. been arrested: No, but I’ve been yelled at by the Coast Guard. That was fun.

75. cried when someone died: Of course!

76. fallen for a friend: Yes.

Do You Believe In …

77. yourself: Yes! Most of the time. Okay, like 67% of the time.

78. miracles: Yes, but probably not in the way you’re thinking.

79. love at first sight: Maybe? I’ve never experienced it myself though.

80. santa claus: I used to! Now I believe in the spirit of Christmas/ Holidays that make people want to keep the idea of him alive for children. It’s a precious concept and tradition.

81. kiss on the first date: Sure, if it feels right. Life’s too short. Kiss the person you wanna touch faces with.

82. angels: Yes, but again, not the way you probably think

Other

83. current best friends’ names: *EXTREME KRIS JENNER VOICE* I LOVE ALL MY FRIENDS

84. eye color: Blue green

85. favorite movie: PSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHH look you’ve made it to the end of this list do you really think I’m able to pick just one???

#get to know me #lists #these are fun I love these #Thanks K!!#about me

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