Got some electrifyin’ treats for you today! You know…the kind where the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck start to rise and you haven’t even finished readin’ the first chapter!?!
So let’s get right down to it…no sense burnin’ daylight LOL!https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12649377/4/Until-You
At the start of her senior year in a new school, Bella is assigned a project with a partner who has a harrowing tale to tell. She soon learns that the kind boy she’s working with hides a broken spirit behind a smile that convinces everyone but her. With him, she will discover how to love through adversity; with her, he will uncover a passion to live and love without bounds. AH, OOC
Just when I think high school fics have been done to death, someone (or two) comes along and proves me soooo wrong!
“For each quarter of the year, you will be doing a project with a classmate or group of classmates. Today, I would like for you to go ahead and pair up with someone around you. Projects will formally begin next Monday, but this way you can go ahead and get acquainted with your partner.”
I wished Angela and I had been sitting closer, but she immediately turned around to ask the guy behind her to be her partner. I couldn’t remember, but I thought that was Ben, one of the guys from lunch that was in the band. Angela looked like an actual heart-eye emoji when she turned to look at him, and I sighed, knowing she’d had never picked me over her apparent crush.
I leaned forward, ready to tap the girl in front of me on the shoulder, but she turned to her right and asked the girl beside her.
I looked around, but quickly, all these kids who’d known each other for years were pairing off, and I was the new girl, the faceless among friends.
Finally, I heard a throat clear behind me and I turned to the boy.
“Would you like to be my partner?” He asked, not shyly but almost hesitantly, like he was used to hearing “no.” Like there was a reason I’d be put off by his asking.
“Yes, please. Thank you,” I answered, and his shoulders visibly relaxed. “I’m Bella,” I said, and like a dork, I held out my hand to him.
“Edward,” he replied and took my hand. He was wearing a fingerless glove on his hand like he was about to go lift weights. I thought it odd but didn’t mention it. His handshake wasn’t at all firm like I anticipated when I saw the well formed muscles of his arms under his t-shirt.
“So, are you new to Forks?” He asked politely, and I was happy that he was making conversation rather than just sitting quietly, awkwardly.
“Is it that obvious?” I asked with a chuckle. “Odd one out over here,” I said, pointing to myself dramatically.
“I know the feeling,” he said with a grimace.
“Were you once the new kid, too?” I asked, hopeful that I wasn’t the first intruder this tiny town had ever seen.
“No. . . ” he trailed off. His eyes, light greenish blue, looked incredibly sad in that moment. But he forced a smile on his face, and I noticed how handsome he was. His hair was brown with a tinge of red, cut close at the sides and gelled over neatly on top. His complexion was fair and smooth.
“Alright class,” Ms. Moore started. “You will get the full instructions for this project next Monday, but for now, go ahead and exchange emails, numbers, add each other on Facebook, whatever it is you need to be able to contact your partner and stay abreast of the project,” she said. If she heard one of the guys in the back chuckle at ‘abreast’, she ignored it.
“So, Bella, can I have your number?” Edward asked when I turned back to him. He winked and I laughed. His eyes and smile were brighter, more genuine.
I rattled off my cellphone number for him and plugged his into my phone.
“The bell will be ringing soon, folks. Go ahead and pack your belongings,” Ms. Moore said. The classroom was loud with chatter as we all shuffled our things back into our bags.
I stood when the bell rang, turning back to Edward to bid him goodbye.
“Have a good rest of the day, Bella. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Edward smiled.
“Bye, Edward. . . ” I trailed off, and suddenly, as he moved to leave the classroom and towards the second door at the back of the room, things started to make sense. Why there were ramps in all of the areas where there were also stairs, why there was an actual car parked in the one handicapped space at the front of the student parking lot, why Edward was wearing gloves on his hands.
Everything about this fic draws me in…a wounded Edward…a sweet but snarky (when she needs to be) Bella…a Charlie to admire and a gaggle of colorful new friends!
My new girl status didn’t bring much unwanted notoriety after the first day. The new friends I’d made, especially Jessica and Angela, had been welcome. Both were exceptionally kind. Even Lauren, who was very quiet and bookish, had started making conversation with me at lunch the day before.
Tyler and Mike were best friends who reminded me of Zac Efron and Corbin Bleu in High School Musical. I was just waiting for them to tell me to get my head in the game. They were both on the football team, too.
Ben, who sat across from Angela (and gave her the same adoring looks she gave him), was hilarious. He was a big reader and movie watcher, and his jokes kept us all in stitches most days. He could quote every funny movie and all the best Michael Scott quotes.
Then there was Eric, who made no secret about his crush on Emmett. His makeup was always flawless, and he did a contour better than a lot of YouTube beauty bloggers.
Yeah, just try to resist…I certainly couldn’t LOL!
~oOo~(banner by Ageless Skulls)
Du-plic-i-ty: noun 1. contradictory doubleness of thought, speech, or action 2. the quality or state of being double or twofold. Synonyms: deceitfulness, deception, double-dealing, underhandedness, dishonesty, fraud, trickery, subterfuge, treachery… The worst thing about betrayal is it never comes from your enemies. Expansion of We Love Mobward Contest entry. ExB, OOC JxA
Their presence has been constant in the week since that horrible day that I lost my father. But then, they’ve always been around. I remember meeting them when I was quite little; playing with their two youngest sons, Emmett and Edward, while the adults ‘took care of business,’ as Charlie used to say. As I got older, heard more rumors, I knew that his quiet meetings with the Cullens meant he was involved in something bigger. But, I always felt safe, protected, when I was around them.
Letting my mind drift, I look around at the small crowd gathered.
I see a few familiar faces, a few that aren’t. Seated just past Esme, is Emmett then Edward, their youngest sons. They’re only a few years older than I am; Emmett at nineteen, and Edward, who just this month turned twenty-two. Em’s usual dimpled smile has been replaced with a somber expression today. Though, when I catch his eye, the twinkle that’s always present is still there. Edward’s sharp features have always been tempered with the softness in his eyes. I always thought he was a serious kid, but I think he’s turned into an even more serious man. But, he was always kind, patient, even though he was a little more than five years older than me. And he loved Charlie; they both did. I remember the many times the two youngest Cullen boys would welcome their ‘Uncle Charlie’ with open arms.
Edward’s been away at school the last few years, and just finished his classes, so I haven’t seen him in a while. Emmett’s been gone this last year too, having just finished his first year. Apparently, Carlisle made the call to bring them both home for Charlie’s funeral.
“Let us not forget, that The Lord is close to the broken-hearted and blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”
The priest’s loud words startle me back to attention, but it doesn’t last long. On the other side of Carlisle is Jasper, who’s the oldest Cullen son at twenty-six. With his lighter hair and sharp blue eyes, he resembles his father while his brothers take after Esme with their dark hair and green eyes. They’re all strikingly handsome, and under other circumstances, my attention would be drawn to them.
“Bella, a leanbh, do you want to go up and say anything to your father?” Esme’s soft voice brings me from my near-numb state.
I just shake my head, fearing that if I speak, I’ll again start crying.
I know no one here would judge me, but I feel like I’ve cried enough.
Esme pats my hand. “Okay, a stóir. If you change your mind, you still have time.” She kisses the side of my head. “Carlisle and I will be up there if you need us.” Turning to her side, she looks at her younger sons. “Emmett, Edward? Could you boys please sit with Bella for a few moments?”
“Of course, Ma.”
Carlisle and Esme’s vacant seats are quickly filled with Edward and Emmett. Their broad shoulders and imposing forms make me feel safe; protected from even the light wind swirling around us.
“Shh, I’ve got you, álainn. Things will be all right.” Edward’s arm wraps around my shoulders, bringing me to his chest, holding me together. “Your Da was a good man, Bella. And now he’s up there watching over you. You’ve got your very own guardian angel.”
Though meant to comfort me, his words just bring on more tears.
Em reaches over for my hand, offering his own support. Knowing that the whole Cullen family is here for me, supporting me, gives me hope that the days ahead might be brighter.
After losin’ her father, sixteen-year-old Bella Swan goes to live with the Cullens where, seein’ as who they are, you’d expect her to be safe!
“Bella,” I whisper, seeing if I can rouse her from sleep. When she doesn’t respond, I decide to settle into the chair in the corner of the room, just to keep an eye on her. I know it’ll more than likely be hours until she comes around, but I don’t want her to wake up alone.
Memories of all of us sharing family dinners with Uncle Charlie and Bella come back to me. Those were happier times. Back when we were still innocent to most of the evil things in this world. Yes, there was business to conduct, but they were like family to us; distant family that only came around a few times a year, but family nonetheless. He trusted us with his precious daughter, and we’ve failed to protect her. But, who would’ve predicted we had to defend her from the evils of one of our own?
So many great stories came out of the We Love Mobward Contest and Duplicity is among the ones that will completely blow you away!
Some secrets will damage your reputation. Others will ruin your social life. But then there are secrets that will change the way the world looks at you, now and forever. What would Edward be willing to do to keep such a secret? And who will pay the price?
Remember back up top when I said someone (or two) comes along and proves me wrong about high school fics? Yeah, this one, too!
The back of the room gives me the perfect vantage point to observe, so I start cataloging what I see. All the groups are here: the nerdy boys with their not quite styled hair and thick-rimmed glasses, the rockers in their ripped jeans and Stones t-shirts, the druggies . . . well, you just know who they are by that vacant look in their eyes . . . is that girl with the spiky black hair a goth? I scan the room again. But where are—
My thoughts are interrupted by the loud arrival of the group I was looking for. Three guys in letterman jackets strut through the door like they own the place, followed by three tittering bimbos. Now, now, Bella, just because they’re showing boob-crack and sound like dying hyenas does not mean they’re stupid, I remind myself. You’re going to try to befriend these girls. You have to—it’s the only way to avoid becoming what you were before. But, Jesus, don’t Henleys have buttons for a reason?
I shake my head and focus on the guys instead—I usually can relate to them better anyway. Two blonds . . . nice! The one with the curly hair isn’t bad, and that one with the blue eyes is cute, but . . . he kind of looks . . . plastic—like a Ken doll.
And then it happens. A god walks into our midst, and I seem to be the only one to notice. Time stops and as a ray of heavenly light falls on his copper hair, I swear I hear angels singing . . . or is that just the druggies listening to some rave music? Who the fuck cares? Right now, all I can see are deep green eyes and wild sex hair, and my God, just looking at his jaw makes my throat dry. Is that because I’m drooling and any remaining moisture in my body has gone south for the duration?
He’s . . . gorgeous. It’s the only word in my brain, and the only one likely to be there when I look at him. Unless, of course, it’s chest hair or stubble or naked—Jesus! There we go! The image of naked Jesus snaps my mind back from my porno fantasy and into the present, just as Gorgeous drops his books onto the desk two in front of me and—shit! Eye contact! Those incredible eyes force mine down to my notebook because I’m not able to take in the full blast of his beauty. To him, I probably look shy but, in reality, I’ve lowered my eyes in reverence. Um . . . reverence? Exactly when did I start worshipping creatures who think spitballs should be an Olympic sport? What the hell happened to me in the last five minutes?
I give myself a good shake as Gorgeous turns toward one of the bimbos and hits her with said Olympic projectile. She’s pissed, but the smile he flashes almost makes me swallow my tongue. How can she stand to be that close to him without just licking his jaw? Argh, come back, naked Jesus! I need to stop lusting over what undoubtedly has to be some other girl’s man meat.
As Mr. Varner calls the class to order, Gorgeous turns to the front, and sanity douses me like a bucket of cold water. Wow. I can’t let that shit happen again. Obviously not getting past first base, and even that over a year ago, has caused some kind of chemical imbalance in my brain. I’ll have to be careful when I’m around Gorgeous lest I slip back into horndog Bella mode. I have more important things to do today.
Bella’s irreverence and complete lack of filter cracks me the fuck up ROTFLMAO! Edward, on the other hand, well…gorgeous is as gorgeous does, right?
I slam my locker door but nearly jump into the next county as I spy Gorgeous tossing his books into his own locker three down from mine.
He closes the door, and I know the instant he feels my open-mouthed stare. He rivets me to the floor with those vibrant green eyes of his. Is he really about to speak to me? Could this day actually turn out okay? He looks surprised and almost panicked for a second, but then two other junior boys walk by, one of them bumping his shoulder. His lips part, but his smile isn’t angelic, it’s leering and wicked.
“So, you struck out today, eh, Bowling Girl? Maybe tomorrow you’ll figure out where you belong—the losers aren’t hard to spot around here.”
The eavesdropping boys chuckle and Gorgeous laughs—his voice is even more fluid and velvet than I’d imagined, but the sound and the words are so hateful that, for a moment, it doesn’t compute and I just let him saunter away as I gaze after him, my jaw still on the floor.
Fuck my life. Gorgeous is an asshole, too.
Ah, well! Edward’s assholishness is a cover up…or is it!? Read and decide for yourself!
~oOo~(banner by Sue Gilreath)
He’s the guy she’s always wanted. She’s the girl he shouldn’t want. Bro code says you don’t go for your friends’ ex-girlfriends. It also says you don’t go for their sisters. What happens when you breach the bro code? AH
And now for a story with more mature protagonists!
Another Saturday morning, another headache, and a one night stand I already regret. It’s not a regular thing for me, but the walk of shame is real. I swear everyone around me can see it, even though as a guy, it’s not nearly as obvious. There’s no smeared makeup, and if my clothes are wrinkled and my hair is a mess, well, that’s easily ignored. Lots of guys are generally disheveled much of the time.
I don’t know why I do these things, but my best guess is it’s out of boredom. A shitty excuse, but it’s all I’ve got. What else is there to do when one is single, relatively young, and in possession of a rather large disposable income? I don’t have a lot of free time, and I’d never see the light of day if I stayed in my apartment all the time. The hospital is like a tomb lit with fluorescent lights, and I’m itching for fresh air, sunshine, and freedom at the end of every shift.
My mother tells me I need a girlfriend. Someone to come home to, a sympathetic ear and a pair of caring arms. Yeah, my mom is a sappy as it gets, but she’s a smart woman. The trouble is, as much as I like the idea of someone steady in my life, it seems women only want me for my money, or the possibility of becoming a doctor’s wife.
So here I am, bored to death, hungover, and alone. Trying not to die while I get my five miles in, and praying I can leave last night’s mistakes in the dust. Other runners cross me on the trail, casting looks of sympathy at my flagging pace. I’m sure I look like death: pale and clammy, dark circles under my eyes like bruises. At least, that’s what I looked like in the mirror this morning before I laced up my running shoes.
I don’t realize my phone is ringing at first; it blends in with the repetitive EDM pulsing through my earbuds, matching the pounding hammer in my skull. Catching the call a few rings in, I lurch to a stop at the side of the trail to answer, eternally grateful for the excuse to take a breather. Now, if I can keep myself from puking, I’ll count myself lucky.
“’Lo?” I try not to huff into the mic, but the hangover isn’t helping and I can’t freaking breathe. I’m bent over at the waist as I try not to suffocate.
“Edward?” a small, female voice asks through the crackle of an unsteady connection.
“Yeah… who’s this?” Shit. Did I give my number to that girl last night? Stranger things have happened, and while I was hammered, I don’t think I was that hammered. She should have taken the hint when I pulled the disappearing act, but I’ve known a couple girls who were on the desperate side, showing up at my favorite bar and trying to bring me shit at the hospital.
God, I’m such a fucking tool.
“Hello? Edward? It’s Bella.”
“Bella?” My shoulders sag in relief. At least I won’t have to start screening my calls—yet. Her voice is a welcome one, and I smile in spite of my impending death.
“It’s Emmett’s sister, you moron.” She sounds a little miffed, like she thinks I can’t remember her. I can almost hear her rolling her eyes.
I smirk, my mood brightening, and I wonder if the Advil is finally kicking in. It’s good to hear Bella’s voice; it’s been too long. Her face flashes through my mind—large, sable eyes and dark, shiny hair. My mind also supplies visions of soft-looking, shiny lips, sweet, perky tits; a phenomenal ass, and great legs; thoughts which I try valiantly to ignore. My best friend would rip my balls off if he knew I ever thought of his baby sister in any way that wasn’t saintly. But I do. Frequently.
Oh, wait…”mature” might be stretchin’ it just a bit *wink!*
“I know who you are, Bella,” I laugh. “I’m just surprised to hear from you. What’s up?”
I haven’t seen Bella since Christmas. She’s busy with graduate school, and I’m working long shifts at the hospital and/or constantly on call. Between attending surgeries and administering the good drugs, anesthesiologists rarely get a break. We’re in high demand due to a nationwide shortage, which means I’m every surgeon’s bitch. I straighten to my full height and wipe sweat from my brow with the hem of my jacket as I wait for her response. I catch a whiff of whiskey and my stomach threatens to revolt again. That’s right—I’m sweating buckets in March. Fucking hangover.
“I sort of need a favor. I need—” she begins, but then she’s cut off by the clash of loud noises over the line.
Is that yelling? Some sort of metal slamming around? It sounds like giant robots in a boxing match. Where the hell is she?
I make my mind stop wandering and concentrate on helping Bella. “Sure, anything. What do you need?” Emmett would kill me if I left her hanging. Any chance to see her is also a bonus.
“I…” The rest of what she says comes out in an unintelligible jumble. Stupid cell phones.
Pulling the phone away from my ear for a second, I check the coverage—five circles. “I’m sorry, what? I couldn’t hear.”
“I. Need. You. To. Bail. Me. Out,” she says slowly, like she thinks I’m being snarky.
I grin. She’s always been such a little smartass. “Bail you out? Of where?”
It’s the ass-crack of dawn—way too early for her to need help getting out of a bad date. I frown at my next thought—maybe it is way too late. What if she already spent the night with some idiotic frat boy? Damn it, I might have to beat the shit out of some undeserving douche just for touching her. Then again, maybe she needs a ride.
Please God, let it be that last one.
She huffs out a breath, obviously out of patience. “Of jail, Edward. I need you to bail me out of jail.”
What in the ever-loving fuck?
Now that Bella has Manwhoreward’s undivided attention, there will only be one more walk of shame and he pays for that one big time LOL!
~oOo~(manip by MidNightSun45)
After ditching her groom at the altar, Bella needs to get as far away from Willow City, TX as possible. The second she meets a hot rodeo star while hitchhiking, Bella knew her life would never be the same. Edward’s hot, cocky, and successful and could be just what Bella needs. Rated M for Lemons and Language. Curvy Bella and Cowboyward.
Damned if Miss Lizzie Lee doesn’t command my attention…AGAIN! Hell’n I couldn’t possibly pass up a fic with a banner like that *drool!*
I hadn’t thought to change out of my wedding dress or call a cab. I was too focused on getting the hell out of there. Now that I’ve been walking for a few miles trying to hitch a ride, I realize how faulty my plan was. Hell, I didn’t have a plan. I probably look absolutely crazed as I walk up the street in my wedding dress in the hot Texas sun.
Of course, with my crappy luck, every car that passes is filled to the brim with children. A family isn’t going to stop to help some random runaway bride on the side of the road. I huff and set my suitcase down in defeat. Perhaps I won’t be leaving Willow City after all. I rest my chin on my fist and pout at every car that passes, hoping my sad, puppy dog eyes will make someone want to stop.
Just as I’m about to lay down and weep, I see a beat up red Chevy truck coming my way. The truck looked to be on its last leg, but I’m not about to start getting picky. Making the most of what God gave me, I jut out my tits and pose so my curves are seen from miles away. I hold up my thumb and hope the driver will take a chance on me and stop.
The truck slows down as the driver sees me, and as it gets closer to me I get a glimpse of one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen. I quickly close my mouth because I know I must look like a fucking trout, and he’s definitely not going to pull over if he notices how I’m staring at him. I try to avert my gaze, but his face captivates me. Through his windshield I can see he has wild penny-colored hair, perfectly sculpted facial features and a jawline I just want to lick. Sunglasses hide his eyes, but I’m sure they’re perfect too. He’s so sexy I wonder how I’ll handle being in the car with him. That is, if he lets me into his truck.
The truck rolls to a stop and the handsome driver rolls down his window and with a smooth, rich voice he asks, “What are you doing dressed like that on the side of the road?” The corners of his mouth are lifted into a slight smile as he teases me.
Too bad I am not in the mood to be teased. Before I can rein in my sarcastic tendencies, I respond with, “Well, I just thought it would be a lovely day to take a walk in the scalding heat. And this old thing? I just forgot to do my laundry today.” When he doesn’t laugh at my sardonic remark, I roll my eyes and continue, “I’m trying to hitch a ride. What does it look like I’m doing?”
This time he does laugh. His deep belly laugh takes me by surprise and I stand awkwardly waiting with my suitcase in hand as I wait for him to invite me into his truck. “Is that anyway to talk to a man that you want a ride from?” he questions with a chuckle.
“Um, no I guess not,” I mumble awkwardly, as I consider resorting to begging if he doesn’t let me in his truck soon. “Look, I’m really sorry,” I quickly apologize, waving my hand around dismissively. “I just really need to get out of here.”
He looks at me for a long moment, as if struggling with something that has nothing to do with me, before nodding and pushing his passenger door open. “All right, get in.”
Happy Friday, y’all!