Prompt: Y/n Stark is left alone for the weekend as the Avengers are out of town. Her dad decides to send a good friend of his over to spend the day with his daughter although forgets to mention anything to Y/n about it leading her to find an intruder in her kitchen. Not all first impressions are great.
Warnings: Maybe three swear words
Rain kissed the filthy sidewalks of Manhattan in a baptizing fashion. The water droplets rid the city of it’s sin by simply showering over head. Y/n Stark watched the mesmerizing scenery from her bedroom window seat, in awe of the beauty. An old throw blanket was snuggled to her body as she leaded her head on the wood of the sill capturing the view below. The rain picturfully had no effect of the daily life of the city goers as they all continued rushing around, the only change was the addition of umbrellas. Most were black, few clear and a rare bit of yellow. The color of the tarps pulled Y/n in allowing her to calculate the amount of vibrant souls and those unlike the rest.
For the moment being she could see thirty or so dark coverings, three rainbow patterns, one red with black polka dots, a child umbrella resembling a frog, and two summer sky blue umbrellas.
With squinted eyes rain boots were still not visible but that was alright. This was her favorite weather and Y/n Stark had the intention of watching the show all day. Well that was until her stomach growled in agony.
Had Harry known Y/N was gonna be in New York he would have picked her up at the airport. He would have given her no other choice but to finally confront him because surely she wouldn’t have wanted to walk in this cold weather.
And he should’ve taken that moment back at the restaurant. Pulled her away from that bloke and asked who the hell he was. He would’ve told her he misses her, that in all honesty he’s very confused because he doesn’t know what he did to have her acting like he doesn’t exist. He can’t understand how she’s able to cut him out of her life this easily. He would tell her it hurts that she’s managed to do so. He should’ve taken that moment at the restaurant, but he didn’t.
And what infuriates him the most, is that Gemma knew.
He’s been on the phone with her for the past fifteen minutes. Ten of those spent going on about having seen her out with some guy he’s never before seen in his life. Harry’s moaned and complained, because ‘maybe she really is seeing someone, Gem. Maybe ’ve really lost m'chance.’
It wasn’t until then that Gemma decided to come forth with this information, coyly telling Harry that 'Y/N came over a few days ago to borrow a duffle cause she left hers at yours or summat.’
And Harry doesn’t know why she didn’t pop by his place to pick it up. Not like she was gonna run into him.
“You’re meant t’ tell me these type of things. M'ye’ brother.”
Harry’s been practically burning his hotel room floor from so much pacing, trying to figure out why in green Earth Gemma didn’t see 'fit’ to tell Harry that Y/N had told her she would be flying to the big apple.
“She hasn’t called ye’?” And what kind of question is that? She knows Harry’s not spoken to her since she left in a hurry that night.
“I’ve not gotten a single text, Gem.”
On the other end of line it sounds like Gemma’s shuffling about, and Harry can only imagine she’s just sat up by the tone to her next words.
“She hasn’t?,” and she sounds genuinely appalled.
Harry stops dead on his tracks, eyebrows furrowing deeper in thought. Why does he feel like she’s hiding something from him.
He runs his fingers through his hair, pulling at the ends in frustration, “what’re ye not tellin’ me, Gemma?”
She’s quiet for about a minute, so Harry presses.
“I thought she was going t’ see you, Haz.”
“Why would she? She’s not been answerin’ m'calls. Why would she go out of her way and come t’ New York t’ see me?”
Was she? Why wouldn’t she call him when she landed?
“Wait, how did she know I was here?”
Again, a slight pause.
“I might’ve told her a few ago when we went out t’ brunch.” Gemma sounded sheepish, knowing fully well there was no reason to tell Y/N of his whereabouts. Not when apparently she wanted nothing to do with him.
“She’d asked me how ye’ were. If ye’ were doin’ alright. So I told her. She didn’t say much about it. And then when she came over for the duffle, I just. I had t’ ask Harry.”
She sounds even more nervous now.
“Ask wha’?” This has Harry feeling uneasy.
“She’s your best friend for Christ’ sake.”
“What did ye’ ask her, Gemma?”
He feels like he has to sit down for this. And when he reaches the edge of the bed and sits, he doubles over, elbows on his knees. One hand holding his phone up to his ear, the other pinching at his bottom lip.
“I honestly can’t understand why she cut all contact with you. So I asked her why. And when she didn’t wanna talk about it, I insisted.”
But he feels like that’s not all they talked. “Wha’ did she say?”
“She broke down, Harry. She told me she couldn’t be friends with you knowing you loved someone else.”
Why would she think that? Most importantly, why would she stop talking to him all together because of that.
“Tha’s what I said. Told her you would’ve told me if you had. Also told her that was no reason to drop the friendship. And so she finally confessed her feelings for you to me.”
Harry can almost hear his heart rate pick up.
“She said as much as she loves you, she couldn’t stand seeing you with someone else.”
“She said she loves me.” He’s whispering it to himself. This is why she didn’t want to see him? How could she possibly think he could love anyone else but her. He thought he’d made it so obvious. “Gemma, tell me ye’ didn’t-.”
“Of course not,” she cuts him off, “-tha’s yours to tell her. Which you should have, you git. Shoulda told her a long time ago.”
“D'y'know where she’s staying?”
He’s gotten up from the bed so fast it makes his head woozy. He’s not even fully pulled his hoodie over his shoulders when he slips on his boots.
“Harry, it’s one in the morning where you are.”
But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that he’ll have to hail a cab so late at night instead of searching for the keys to his rental, because frankly he doesn’t remember where he’s left them and he can’t be bothered to spend any more time looking for them.
“Gemma tell me where she is.”
It doesn’t take long for Harry to get a cabbie’s attention, he is Harry Styles after all.
In the blur of it all, he’s somehow ended up with the boys hollering over the phone at him. Cheering him on and telling him to go get his girl.
“Honest, s'bout time it happened for the pair o'ya.” Next to Harry, he reckons Liam’s probably the most romantic out of the lot.
“Wha’ if she doesn’t want me? Wha’ if s'too late and she’s happy with tha’ other bloke?”
To the rest of the world, it would be insane for anyone to think Harry Styles has moments like these. Moments of doubt when he radiates confidence. But honestly he’s just like any other human being trying to find love and someone to give his own to.
“Who? Her cousin? That’d be weird,man,” Niall chimes nonchalantly.
He can hear what sounds like two slaps to the arm before hearing Niall grunts in dissatisfaction.
Has everyone been hiding these vital specs of information from him.
But he doesn’t even have to ask before Niall’s explaining.
“Okay, yeh I knew she was goin’ t’ New York.”
Of course. In retrospect, Harry should’ve know Niall might’ve known. Next to Harry, Niall’s the closest to Y/N. What with him going back and forth dealing with the film and the magazine a few months ago, Liam doing his solo project and preparing for his and Cheryl’s baby, and Louis in LA most than not for Freddie; Niall’s the only one who’s just so happened to not travel much during the hiatus. And he never really minded taking Y/N with him when he did have things to do.
“She tol’ me she needed t'see you. N’ I didn’t wanna spoil the surprise.”
“Well tha’s great, innit? Everyone knew but me? Anythin’ else any o'ye would like t'share?”
He doesn’t mean to sound frustrated, but he just..is. Had he known all of this, everything would have gotten resolved earlier, and he wouldn’t have had to sulk over Y/N being out with a cousin. He wouldn’t have had to watch her walk away and out of that restaurant, an awful feeling in his heart at she sight of her with someone else.
But it’s all done, and at least now he knows the way she’d look at him, like she was smitten, wasn’t all in his head.
“Quit your mopping, Harold and just tell her how much you miss her.”
After Harry had told the boys what’d happened and asked them not to hassle him about it, they’d let off the teasing, didn’t wanna strike a nerve and make Harry feel bad. He is the baby after all. Now, Harry can’t help but smile sheepishly at the sound of all three making kissy noises on the other end of the line.
With whole hearted 'good luck’s from the boys, Harry hangs up and his mind goes back to wondering what will happen after tonight.
The rest of the drive there his mind’s still trying to process the fact that Y/N told Gemma she loves him. His Y/N loves him.
And when he reaches her suite, he’s not sure if she’ll open the door. Or if she’s even gotten into bed yet.
But he knocks nonetheless, and when he hears light footsteps getting closer on the other side, the butterflies in his tummy go wild.
“Who is it?” Oh how he’s missed hearing that voice.
“Room service.” He can’t risk her not opening if he tells her it’s him.
The door slides open just a bit then, and he sees her peek through it before hearing her yawn.
“Please,” is the first thing his head can muster up, “don’ shut me out, poppet.”
Y/N doesn’t know what to say…what to feel. After not seeing Harry for so long, here he is, stood in front of her hotel room, palm on the door as if to prevent her from closing it.
And she’d be a liar if she said she didn’t miss him. Hearing him plead for her not to deny him entrance.
She’s lost in a trance, looking him over, his eyes tired and hair a mess. Pink lips pursed into a line against the pale of his skin. And his green eyes, burning into her with a sad look.
But she doesn’t say anything. Just steps back into the darkness of the room, allowing Harry to slip in and shut the door behind him.
“I miss ye, kitten.” He breathes in relief, finally able to tell her so she doesn’t think he doesn’t.
She sighs, her back facing him, “Harry, can we please do this tomorrow?”
Harry can’t deny that deflates him a bit. As much of a long shot as it was, he was really hoping she’d say she misses him too.
He strides over to her, but keeps his hands to himself even though he’s been dying to hug her again. There’s nothing else he can do with them but thumb at the rings to twist them around his fingers.
“No,” he whispers, determined. “M'not leaving until y'tell me wha’ I did wrong.” He wants to hear it from her lips.
She turns to look at him, towering above her. Too close, but too far. “You did nothing, Harry.”
“Then why’ve ye’ not been answerin’ m'calls?”
“Or replyin’ t’m'texts?”
She’s fiddling with the hem of her shirt, unsure of what to say. Surely she can’t tell him she couldn’t stand the chuckles and secret whispers between him and the guys over Harry’s probably now girlfriend. She can’t tell him she’s stupidly fallen in love with her best friend and him denying her would break her. But the way he’s looking at her right now makes her wanna melt back into his arms.
She needs to say something, anything to end this conversation before she explodes.
“Don’t know how to say this. But I started seeing someone, and I wanna dedicate more of my time to him.”
Harry can’t believe she’s really trying to feed him that excuse.
“Oh really? Does he live here? Is tha’ why you’re in New York? Wha’s his name?” He challenges.
She stutters for longer than she should.
“Surely you’ve not forgotten the name of this said bloke you’re seein’?”
Y/N can feel herself getting frustrated. Not because she’s choked up on a simple name, or because it doesn’t seem like Harry will be leaving any time soon. No, she’s frustrated at the fact that Harry knows her so well he’s able to see past it and know she’s lying.
But she tries anyway, “umm, his name’s, umm-”
“Bullshit!” He’s calling her out. He’s gonna make her say it even if he has to stay til well into the next day.
It catches Y/N just a bit off guard though. But it’s enough for her to reach her limit.
“I don’t have to give you any explanations Harry!” And Harry doesn’t recall ever hearing her raise her voice. Other than at the telly during intense scenes from a show or a film, or when she’s driving.
“I don’t have to tell you who I’m dating. You sure as hell don’t tell me!” She brings her index finger up to poke at his chest. “But that’s okay because you don’t owe me any explanations either. So don’t ask me why I’ve not been coming around because I can’t give you an answer. So I hope you’ll be happy with your new girlfriend and I hope you have a great life together-”
“There was never anyone.” He tries to cut in, failing to stop her ramble.
“-because I’m sure she’s perfect in every sense of the word because you’d blush every time Niall or Louis or Liam whispered to you about her-”
“Tha’ was you they were teasin’ 'bout.” Another failed attempt.
“-and you deserve that Harry, you do. Don’t worry about me I’ll be fine an-”
She grabs at her wrists to stop the gestures.
“Y/N. I love you.”
“And I know y-.”
That’s shuts her right up. And Y/N was really never expecting that.
“You what?” Almost an inaudible whisper.
Harry takes her hand in his then, intertwining their fingers, staring at how hers fit perfectly into his.
He scans her eyes as he brings his hands to cup neck, thumbs running over her jaw. And he honestly cannot understand why she would think he doesn’t.
His thumb pads graze the bottom of her lip before repeating himself.
“I love you.”
It’s then that she brings her hands to his hips, clenching the grey material of his hoodie.
“Jus’ say it, poppet. M'right here.”
“I love you, too.”
Harry can’t hold back anymore.
So he closes the space between them, lips ghosting over hers. And when Y/N puckers her lips to firmly press into his, he knows she means what she’s said.
With a smile and another kiss.
Harry whispers one last time.
“I love you, so much.”
A/N: Wanna take a moment and say thank you to every single one of my readers, whether you follow or not. Thank you for taking the time and reading this unexpected short trilogy. Thank you for being patient with me when I was feeling uneasy about that second part.
And thank you to the anon who requested this.
I hope whilst you all read that it felt at least a bit real, even the slightest to brighten up your day.
Request: Hiiii ! I have a really cute idea in my mind, and I was wondering if you could write an imagine, where reader’s mom is English teacher, and she suggested Jughead to tutor him, help him with his work, improve his writing style, and when she go to her house he met his daughter, a sweet, lovely and kind River Vixen and he falls for her immediately ? <333
Well look at that I actually did something productive, I’m so sorry for the wait on this request <3 I hope it was okay :)
NOTE: PLEASE LOOK AT A POST THAT FOLLOWS THIS ON MY BLOOOGGGG <3
Warnings: Didn’t proofread, I’m honestly so dead / mild mild swearing
“You’re writing what?” Archie raised an eyebrow.
The ginger and his beanie clad best friend were sat in a booth at Pop’s, drinking the evening away with rounds of strawberry and chocolate milkshakes.
“A novel,” Jughead replied simply, sipping on his straw.
“About Jason Blossom. As in the Jason Blossom who got shot this summer?” Archie had to clarify. Jughead tried to refrain from rolling his eyes.
“Last time I checked there was only one,” He reached under the table and emerged with his laptop bag. “Although a clone would make a thrilling plot twist.”
“Are you sure that’s healthy? Writing about a murder? I mean, it’s all you’ve been talking about for the past few weeks and maybe it would be better just to drop the subject,” Archie tried to advise, ignoring the shaking of Jughead’s head in disapproval.
“You know what maybe I’d have more stuff to talk about if you were around this summer,” He scoffed, the bitter tone is his voice taking Archie by surprise. “I don’t need your opinion on the context anyway, I need help on my writing and the words I use and the structure. It all flows in my head but when I try to put those words on paper, my mind just clouds over and all I’m left with is unnecessary rambling.”
“Speaking of rambling, there’s no point talking to me about this Juggie. There’s nothing I can say to you in this situation that would actually help you out rather than annoy you with my irrelevant comments,” Archie shrugged, leaning back into the booth and slumping casually.
Jughead rested his head in his hands. He’d been suffering with writers block for over a week now and it was killing his novel. He needed something inspiring and he needed it fast.
“What about Mrs (Y/L/N)?” Archie suggested and Jughead’s head snapped up, his attention having been caught.
“What about her?”
“Isn’t she offering small after-school tutoring sessions because the school offered to pay her?” Archie took out his phone and pulled up the school website, showing Jughead the ‘news’ page which informed them of the opening.
“Why would she even do that?” Jughead took the phone off of Archie and quickly scanned the article, picking out key information like contact details which he proceeded to write down on a napkin.
“I think the school is offering her a pretty decent amount, they’re having to secure their teacher reputation record because of…. ya know,” Archie trailed off. “Anyways, she’s a pretty nice teacher right? Smart too, I’m sure she’ll give you all the artsy, angsty advice you need to fuel your supposed novel,” He reached over the table and took his phone back, leaving Jughead to think things through.
“Mrs (Y/L/N)?” Jughead stayed behind after class, now standing at the side of the teachers desk. The aforementioned woman looked up through her glasses and smiled warmly at the boy.
“Yes Jughead, how can I help?” She put down the papers she was grading and gave him her full attention.
“Well, it’s nothing really just something stupid,” Jughead scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. He was almost ashamed in himself for not overcoming his difficulties alone and having to ask an English teacher for help. Archie was probably right anyway, the concept was stupid.
“Please Jughead, I’m sure it’s not as stupid as you say,” Her voice was smooth and reassuring. Jughead slung his arm so that his backpack fell off of his shoulder and onto the floor. He took out his drafted manuscript, which had been kept under lock and key for weeks. He wouldn’t let anyone see his work until he was sure it was up to his own standards.
Mrs (Y/L/N) didn’t seem to be giving away much with her facial expressions as she nonchalantly skimmed through the pages, nodding her head and humming. After a few minutes of awkward silence, she put the pages down and looked up at the nervous brooding boy before her.
“W-What do you think? It’s just an early draft, I just wanted to know if you could maybe help me improve it. I don’t mean to waste your time or anything though, of course!” Jughead scrambled to pick up the manuscript and shove it back in his bag, refusing to meet the English teacher’s eyes.
“It’s great Jones, very interesting take on the whole ordeal. Very real,” She reached out a hand, stopping him in his path. Mrs (Y/L/N) stood up and neatly tucked in her chair before coming round to the front of the desk and perching on the edge. “I’d love to discuss it with you in more detail, if you would be okay with that?” She had already pulled out her diary from her desk and started to scribble some notes down in the dates of this week.
“Yes, that would be great. Umm when and where Miss?” Jughead didn’t want to sound too eager but he couldn’t help but feel a flood of relief.
“I’d have you come in during a lunchtime but sadly I have reports to do and papers to mark for the seniors. I’ll send you my address and contact details over school email okay, we’ll try and meet for afternoons for a week and see where we go from there,” The teacher scribbled all of this down whilst Jughead just made a simple mental note. He was on a laptop 24/7 anyway, he didn’t need to be promoted to check his emails.
“She must really want to help you then,” Veronica laughed as Jughead explained his daily English plan also now known as ‘his excuse for not turning up to group days at Pop’s for the next month or so’.
“Guys she’s just interested, it’s actually quite nice to be offered some professional support considering it’s been weighing me down,” Jughead sighed, picking at his fries. The Sad Breakfast Club were all gathered by the bleachers eating their lunch and just sticking to their casual weekday routine.
“You’re making it sound as if she’s your therapist,” Kevin pointed out and the others nodded with smirks, much to Jughead’s annoyance.
“Wait, doesn’t she have a kid?” Betty perked up, finally chiming into the conversation after just simply observing. There was a brief moment of silence as everyone contemplated her question.
“I think so…” Veronica didn’t sound so sure.
“If she does, she probably goes to another high school. I’ve never seen or heard of anyone like that around Riverdale high,” Jughead simply shook it off. Boy, he didn’t know what he was getting himself into.
He’d been knocking for almost five minutes now. Perhaps it was the determination to just finish the chapter that kept him standing at the (Y/L/N) doorstep that Wednesday afternoon but it was slowly seeping away, seeing as nobody was willing to answer. Or maybe it was fate, because if he left a little earlier, there was a chance he may have never met her.
“Hello?” That honey voice Jughead recognised came from behind him but it sounded even sweeter, soft and innocent almost. Perhaps even angelic if you wanted to go that far. He turned around, his expression irritated but his features quickly softened when he took in your appearance.
You were stood there in all your beauty, gym bag slung over shoulder and River Vixen uniform proudly on display. Your hair was tied in a tight high ponytail that could rival Betty Cooper’s, adorned with blue and gold ribbons.
“Um, hi. I’m sorry, do I have the wrong house?” Jughead stuttered, his face changing from pale to tomato red very quickly.
“Oh no, this is the right house. You must be the boy my mother told me about,” Her confused expression instantly shifted into a warm smile, her eyes bright and welcoming. That smile could melt an iceberg. “She said you’d be stopping by, for help with your poem or novel or whatever it was. She’s out right now getting the groceries but luckily I have my spare key so you can come on in and binge some snacks with me,” She giggled heartily, skipping past him and unlocking the door. She beckoned Jughead to follow her as she dropped her gym bag off by the stairwell and ran into the kitchen, emerging with bags of popcorn.
Jughead grinned, following her into the living room where they both sat down on the same couch and started to talk.
She had only recently moved to town to stay with her Mum. Her parents were divorced and her Dad wanted time alone with his new family so they could settle in together, to your dismay. Thanks to her prestigious background, Cheryl had been quick to accept her as a River Vixen but other than her five minutes of fame at the audition, she’d purposefully sunken into the background of Riverdale High, keeping a low profile and fulfilling her role as a wallflower.
Jughead noticed how expressive she was. She would move her hands when she talked, waving them all over the place and gesturing. She could tell the whole story with her bright eyes, which leaked with emotion and passion. The words she used and her way of phrasing things filled Jughead’s head with ideas. The inspiration he’d been looking for was right in front of him and it hit him quick how fast he was falling head first for the charming Vixen.
“And then I told her that it wasn’t fair that ethnic minorities are portrayed that way in this show but she decide- Jughead? Are you alive? Helloooo Earth to Juggie?” You waved your hand in front of his face since the boy seemed to be lost in a trance. The two of you had been talking for almost an hour now and you’d been concealing your blush whenever he stared at you. It was undeniable he was kind of cute and different to most other boys you’d met. To him though you were probably the perfect girl next door. Untouchable and innocent. Not with your history, no. Nobody is ever perfect in Riverdale.
“Sorry I was just thinking about how pretty you look,” Jughead smirked, the confidence coming from nowhere. Jughead even looked surprised himself at his comment. You felt flustered and you looked down so he couldn’t see your rosy cheeks. So… he wants to play huh?
You scooted closer to him on the couch, slowly draping your legs over his lap and leaning back onto a pillow lazily. He was looking at you, eyes wide. You batted your eyelashes innocently, smiling up at him in a way that could only be described as… seductive?
You had no idea where this mood came from and neither did he. Some harmless flirting didn’t hurt nobody though.
Within the next five minutes you were snuggled into his side talking about your day whilst he was stroking your legs and wrapping his fingers around the curls in your hair. There was just some kind of comfort and butterflies you felt when so close to him and it was clear he felt the same.
“Am I really pretty?” You suddenly mumbled, rubbing over your stomach subconsciously. You’d always been insecure about your weight and it had been your weakness when it came to dealing with high school bitches.
Jughead leaned back and gave you a look. “I’m being honest when I say you’re honestly so pretty, and it’s not all about your looks. You have a great personality from what I can tell. I mean, I can’t really judge you yet but based on the cover of your book you’re funny and charismatic and I would love to take you out on a date,” The last part was barely audible but you’d heard every single word. You sat up quick, mouth wide open. You began to fidget with your hands like you always did when the words just wouldn’t come out. You could just whisper.
“I would love that,” You stared at his soft lips and he blushed, staring right back at yours. You scooted closer once more, leaning in.
“I’M HOME HONEY!” The front door slammed shut and the sound of bags being dumped on the floor was heard from the hallway. The two of you jumped apart quickly as your Mum walked in to find the two of you, sitting on opposite ends of the couch with red faces. “Hey guys, I bought pizza! If you want to stay for dinner Jughead just let me know, (Y/N) can you help me unpack these groceries please,” She smiled at the both of you before walking off to the kitchen.
You reluctantly sat up but before you left the room, you turned around to meet Jughead Jones’ eyes. You smiled bashfully.
“It’s a date.”
i’m so sorry that i’m slow and ew, i hope this was okay + didn’t proofread because i’m dead. Will read tomorrow :)
Notes: So, I was at work listening to a song and it inspired this. I will include the song that is sung IN the fic as well, in case you have never heard it. And in case it is not obvious, the inspiration is based a bit off of the movie Hocus Pocus. PS Happy Belated Halloween. I missed it by less than 2 hours. But I wrote 7k in less than 7 hours.
As a child, Stiles Stilinski heard the same story every
Halloween from his mother, Claudia.
“There was once a band of witches that roamed and ruled the
Beacon Hills Preserve. And every Halloween, they would lure little children
such as yourself in to feed on their souls. With a simple lullaby, children
would disappear into the trees, ever to be seen again. So, when you are out
Trick-or-Treating, you need to make sure to stay away from the woods.
Otherwise, they will come and take you away.”
With his young age and curious mind, he laughed at the
thought, dubbing it as a tall tale people told their kids to keep them in line
when Mischief Night came around. He thought it false and spent many years
brushing off the story his mother had told him.
The doubt didn’t dissipate as he grew older and wiser; it
only seemed to strengthen. And even when he learned of the supernatural, he
overlooked those tales, figuring nothing like that could ever be true.
pisces can hear music and sound undetectable by others, it gives these people a great appreciation for art and literature, so much that they can become lost in bewildered trance to the creative drenching. pisces are a swirl of change, a mixture of tears, fantasies, glamor, confusion, and sea salt
Preference "How they react to you giving them a lap dance" (NSFW)
(Wooooo 😏 our favs being fanboys and fangirls XD Hope it is as requested and you all like it :3 Gif not mine/found it on google/credit to the original owners.)
Negan-The moment you’d start to tease him with a lap dance, he’d be lost in a trance and wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off of you. As he’d get a hard on, he’d take a good look of every part of you, only to whistle, turn you around as he wants and grin as he suddenly grips your hips to make you grind against him even harder.
Daryl-The moment you’d start to tease him with a lap dance, he’d be flustered and wouldn’t be too sure of what he should be doing but knew he liked the view. However, slowly he’d go from stealing glances at you to being unable to keep his eyes off of you and would just love the fact that you kept bringing his hands to you.
Rick-The moment you’d start to tease him with a lap dance, he’d smirk, finding it amusing and wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you. He’d love to just feel your body in such movements and definitely find himself getting hard rather quick, making him stop you mid-dance as he turns you towards the bed.
Merle-The moment you’d start to tease him with a lap dance, he’d get into it and just compliment you on every part of you. He’d just love that you were giving him a show and wouldn’t stop himself from touching you all over, even going as far as to help you undress before making you feel his hard on for you.
Glenn-The moment you’d start to tease him with a lap dance, he’d find you more adorable than anything, only to gradually get turned on by you. He’d find himself smiling to you a lot, only to tease you while at it before suddenly grabbing you to him and turn you to the bed as you’d both giggle.
The Governor-The moment you’d start to tease him with a lap dance, he’d be in disbelief and would just playfully hate that you were playing around with him. He’d lustfully beg you to stop as he stares at you, only for you to notice his own hand creeping up his thigh a few times before doing the same over his crotch.
Abraham-The moment you’d start to tease him with a lap dance, he’d put up a front of trying to resist you, wanting you to work hard for him. He’d want you to give it your all and just cross his arms, looking and smirking at you, before grabbing you closer as he had enough of you playing around like that.
Eugene-The moment you’d start to tease him with a lap dance, he’d tense and would try to distract himself and you with odd facts about the act. He’d get hard but wouldn’t want to admit it, trying to avoid your gaze, only to not be able to as he’d feel your ass pressed up against him even more, making him lose his train of thought.
Jesus-The moment you’d start to tease him with a lap dance, he’d be playfully confused and would just chuckle to see you. He’d grow to think you were being adorable and would just keep reminding you of how cute you looked, only to wait for you to sit on his lap and be able to hold you tightly to him.
Dwight-The moment you’d start to tease him with a lap dance, he’d just seem to feel better about himself and wouldn’t be able to deny that he loved looking at you working it and feel you rub yourself against him. He’d love it even more as you’d tell him that he wasn’t allowed to touch you, making him hold it in until he just has to grab you.
Summary: After dating his girlfriend for two years, Sam Holland decides to take their relationship to the final level and make it permanent. However, in order to provide for his future spouse, he must first get enough money to provide for her and he must get the ‘okay’ from the reader’s disapproving father…
The winter wind howled through the desolate streets, blinding the path with a thin sheet of icy white dust. These short days, these long nights, the dampness that crept into weary bones and made everyone ache for summer again. The thinly frozen puddles crack under Y/N’s winter boots as she approached her boyfriend’s house. The bitter cold seeps through her wool mittens, numbing her fingers until they feel thick and stiff. It made it difficult for her to raise her arm and knock on the wooden door before her.
You strolled through the hallway in a tired manner, you only woke up 15 minutes ago and it felt like death was upon you today. You removed the sunnies from your head and popped them into your hair, reaching your locker.
“Have you been watching Runway social suicide again?” Your best friend Allison comes up to you, eyeing your outfit. You glance down at yourself and shrug your shoulders, not really caring today what the hell you looked like.
“No, these are express from biteme.com” You sassed back, placing a hand onto your hip. She rolls her eyes at you and laughs.
“Only you can manage to pull off an outfit like that” She states, finishing collecting her books for her next class, English, which also happened to be yours as well.
“Me and my label whores take great offense to that” You reply with mock hurt, placing a hand of your heart for a dramatic effect. Allison rolls her eyes at you and shuts her locker, beginning to walk away from you and off into the classroom.
You turned to your on locker with a tired sigh and grab your books out, closing it shut once you were done. You turned back around to notice you were getting some very unwanted attention. You sighed again, noticing some of the guys were even wolf whistling at you.
Plastering a fake smile, you beamed it towards them, causing their eyes to widen in shock. It wasn’t every day that the school Queen B noticed them. Yes, you heard that right, you were popular in high school. In fact, Some even referred you to the Queen B. How stereotypical seeing you were no where near in fact a mean girl.
“Hey baby, can I have your number?” A sleezeball called out as you made your way past the crowd. With a smirk you didn’t even bother turning around to voice your response.
“Yeah, 1800-kiss-my-ass” You sassed back as you walked away and into the classroom. Okay… maybe you were a little.
“I swear to flipping god if I have to sit through another god damn lecture I’ll kill myself” One of the girls complained from around the table. You rolled your eyes at her softly smiled as you took your seat, placing your jacket next to you.
“Why don’t you commit suicide? It’s more effective” One of the girls responds. Your eyes widen and a laugh seems to lodge itself in the back of your throat. Oh gosh where was Allison when you needed her. You could only handle these airheads for so long before heads began to roll… literally.
“Killing yourself is suicide Stacy” The blonde beside her nudged her shoulder. Stacy turned around and frowned, seeming to put the pieces together. You laughed at their exchange and began to tuck into your lunch that you brought from home. You hardly ever liked what they sold here so you brought your own lunch from home.
Rice crackers, your favourite.
“Y/N?” Your head popped up at the mention of your name across the table. You finished the bite you were on and smiled.
“Nick wanted me to give this to you..” Eleanor trailed off, passing you a slip of paper. You began to unfold the note and read the messy writing.
~Meet me under the bleachers, fourth period ;)
You scrunched the paper into the ball and threw into the middle of the table. The other girls looked up at you, not seeming surprised. This was a daily occurrence, you would receive letters and what not from guys asking you to ‘hook up’ with them or 'go round’ with them like seriously… who uses 'go round’ anymore?
“Who was it from?” One of the girls piped up interested. Stacy reached for the paper and unscrew it, reading it aloud.
“Wait… the Nick McHottie asked you out?” She spoke up with envy. Ugh, he was a disgusting creep. Yeah he was hot but he had no personality what so ever.
“McDonald” You replied, snatching the paper from her hands. She frowned.
“How the hell could you turn him down? He’s like the hottest guy in school!” Emily piped up, the other girls joining in chorus. You stopped eating your cracker and looked up with a frown.
“I’m sorry, but a guy that can’t pronounce archaeornithomimus isn’t the guy for me” You replied, causing all the girls eyes around you to widen. You took another bite of your cracker and spoke with a full mouth.
“Wha?” It came out slightly muffled though due to the food. Some of them sat there in shock while the others tried to figure out what the hell that even was.
“Isn’t that a type of like… sleep disorder?”
“Paralysis” You replied with an eye roll.
“And no… it’s not” You responded. Seeing how Allison has ditched you for lunch you decided to pack up your things, wanting to be alone.
“Where are you going?” Eleanor asked.
“I’m going to head to the library to get some last minute studying done” You replied easily. You waved them off with a smile and left the cafeteria, feeling multiple pair of eyes on you.
Peter’s eyes followed you as you left, his head placed on top of his palm as he watched you leave. This was a daily ritual for him. After he got his lunch he would sit down quickly and begin to eat, his eyes and ears searching for any signs of you. Once he found you he often drifted off into la la land.
“I seriously don’t get what you see in her…” Ned spoke from beside him. Peter ignored him, to lost in his trance with you to care.
“She’s… perfect” He would reply dreamily. Ned would just roll his eyes at his friend and continue reading his comic.
“She’s a bitch” Ned would often reply. This would always snap Peter out of his daze. He would turn to Ned angrily.
“No she isn’t she’s just… misunderstood” He tried to persuade him. Ned just hums in response, still reading his comic. Peter would sigh and rest his head back onto his open palm.
You strolled into your class with a smile on your face, AP Physics, this subject happened to be one of your favourite. Seeing there were no seating arrangements for this class you often sat near the back, keeping your head down and completing your work with a snide comment here and there from a few guys.
You walked through the classroom looking for an empty seat. You sighed once you saw most of them were pretty much full.
Peter walked into the class shortly after with wide eyes. You were standing right next to his bench. Well… it wasn’t his bench but that was where he sat pretty much every lesson.
“There’s a spare seat on my lap baby” One of the guys flirted to you with a wink. You wanted to scoff at his forwardness. Instead you settle for rolling your eyes and glanced around the classroom, noticing most of the empty spaces were next to useless, sexist pigs who would probably try to trail a hand up your skirt. Why were guys such sleezeballs in high school?
“…Excuse me” You heard a tiny voice speak from behind you. You turned around and smiled once you spotted you fellow class mate, Peter Parker.
“Oh, hey Peter” You greeted with a smile. You moved out of the way, assuming this was his stop. His eyes widen at your greeting and his mouth drops. Have you never greeted him before?
“H-h-i” He stuttered out with an awkward smile. You couldn’t help but to smile at his nervousness around you.
“Y/n baby… leave that dork and come sit next to me” One of the jocks called out to you. You sighed angrily, wanting to just go over them and shut him up yourself.
You turned around to see his facial expression.
“You know you want to” He flirts. Ugh. Instead you just smiled sweetly at him, placing your books onto the bench beside you. Peter’s eyes widened at the action, noticing you taking the spare seat beside him. No one ever sat next to him because he was the 'loser’ or 'nerd’.
Holy sugar crackers is she actually sitting next to me? Is this real? I think I’m going to faint…
You slipped into the seat and turned your head towards Peter, noticing how he seem to shy away from you. A frown fell across your lips. Never before have you had that response.
You decided to leave it and instead concentrate on the lesson for the day.
~Through the lesson
Peter couldn’t seem to control the shakes in his hands. His nerves were so bad that he didn’t want to speak aloud in cause he stuttered like a total loser in front of you. You, on the other hand, just sat there copying down your work silently. You were enjoying the piece and quiet actually, no on was bothering you.
You stumbled upon a question that seemed a little tricky and rested your head into your open palm with a sigh. Peter noticed this action and looked over towards you. He battled with himself whether or not to ask you if you were okay but decided against it.
You stared at the page for a few minutes, trying to figure out the answer to the following question. You let out a defeated sigh and closed your eyes. Peter heard this and turned to face you with a worried look. He looked at your face as it was scrunched up in confusion. He found it adorable.
“Peter?” He heard your voice speak up. By now you were looking at him as well. He immediately blushed, cursing himself for being caught staring at you and quickly looked away.
“Hmm?” He asked out as casually as he could. You smiled at his response, noticing the tinge in his cheeks grow slightly darker.
“Do I have something on my face?” You asked, wondering why he had been staring at you. Peter’s eyes widen at your question. He visibly gulps. He turns his head to face you and quickly shakes his head. You smiled at his awkwardness.
“Then why were you staring?” You asked. You had grew curious with the boy sitting beside you. Peter’s eyes almost looked like they wanted to fall out of his head. The poor thing could feel his heart practically racing inside his chest. What the hell was he supposed to say?
“Y-y-y-ou had something on your face..” He stutters, not bothering to look at you. You reach a hand to your cheek and started to wipe, hoping to get whatever it was off of your face. You hadn’t had worn makeup today thank god.
“Got it?” You asked. He turned to face you with red cheeks. He just smiled shyly and nodded in response. You smiled at him and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You looked over at him curiously.
“There was nothing on my face was there?” You asked. He froze again, the poor thing was going to have a bloody heart attack.
“…no” he mumbles out ashamed. You just smiled at his honesty and shook your head,your focus returning to your work.
“I don’t mind…” You spoke out, softly enough for him to hear. You bit your lip, feeling your own nerves beginning to grow inside you. Never before had you been nervous talking to a boy cause they were all so immature but with him you did, he was… different. And you quite liked it.
“M-m-ind w-what?” he stuttered. How was it that you found his stuttering even adorable? Knowing the effect you had on him causing you to smile.
“You...” you spoke up. He turned to face you confused, his eyes widening with a soft smile playing at the edge of his lips. He was blushing like crazy, he could feel it, but had nothing in him to stop him from looking at you.
You guys stared into each others eyes for a little while, seeming to be getting lost in them. He noticed a tinge of pink spread across your own cheeks. His stomach did a flip at the sight.
Peter was the first to look away once he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to the guy sitting behind him that held a piece of paper in his hand. He gave it to him with a smile, pointing towards Y/N who was now turned back around, working on her work sheet. Peter sighed and opened up the paper, hearing the sound of hissing behind him as he did so. He turned around once he felt a paper ball hit the back of his head.
“It’s not for you, idiot” The guy spoke up, pointing at your back. Peter’s eyes widen as he nods, slipping the piece of paper beside you. You glanced away from your work and looked to your side to see the piece of paper.
You fingers slowly opened the piece of paper, you glanced over your shoulder as you did so, noticing the jock from early with a smirk on his face. You turned back around and read the paper, your eyebrows furrowing in disgust. You screwed up the piece of paper and placed it in front of you, deciding to get back to your work. Another piece of paper came hurtling towards Peter. He caught it due to his reflexes and sighed, grudgingly passing you the second note.
You glanced at Peter before opening the second note. Once you finished reading it you grabbed a pen, writing down a firm NO! underlined before passing it back to Peter. You turned back to your work while Peter sat there dumbstruck.
Without realising another once was thrown across the room and hit Peter in the face this time. He angrily grabbed the piece of paper and placed it beside you. Once again, you stopped what you were doing and read what it said, writing down a response. Peter could feel himself growing angrier by the second. He knew it, he fucking knew it and Ned tried warning him but did he listen? No.
One more came and this time Peter caught it, throwing it down in front of Y/N. You looked up confused as you saw the piece of paper slam down in front of you. You turn to your side to see a very angry looking Peter.
You opened this letter, this time not even bothering to read what it said. You grabbed a pen and responded.
~Your making my boyfriend angry, fucking stop Michael
With this you crumpled up the piece of paper and gave it back to Peter. He looked at you wide eyed, not believing how you were using him. He took it from your hand angrily and threw it across the room back over to the jock.
The jock, reading the letter, rolled his head back in laughter. That was it. Peter had snapped. Peter felt utterly humiliated and hurt but most of all, he felt angry.
“I’m not a fucking messenger boy” Peter seethed at you. Now it was your turn for your eyes to widen in shock. You turned to face him, noticing just how angry he really was. Whoa… Never before have you ever heard Peter swear so he must be really pissed off.
“What?” You asked out, not quite getting why he was mad at you. He closed his eyes and let out a angry sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Do you get off on this or something?” He asks angrily. You dropped your pen, your focus being on him now. You stared at him wide eyed.
“Excuse me?” You responded.
“Little miss 'Popular”’ That had hit a nerve.
“Oh get off your man period Peter” You responded harshly. He dropped his hands and shook his head, biting his bottom lip angrily.
“Once your done being an asshole let me know” You spoke out, turning to face your work.
“I’m the asshole?” He argued. You rolled your eyes.
“Yeah, your certainly acting one” You responded. He just glared at you in response, packing up his things.
“I’m a person Y/N, not a friggin play toy” Okay where the hell did that come from? You look up once you heard him walk past you and out of the classroom. The teacher didn’t seem to notice seeing he was busy writing on the board. You watched his retreating figure, your eyebrows furrowing.
You packed up your own things and decided to leave the class as well to go after Peter. Something definitely wasn’t right and you were going to figure out what it was.
“Y/N!” The teacher called out but you ignored him. You glance down the hallway to seem him walking down towards his locker. You followed behind him, jogging a little to catch up.
“Peter!” You called out to him. He ignored you, seeming to wipe something away from his face as he stopped by his locker, opening it to block his face from your view. You reached his locker and stopped.
“Peter..” You spoke up, this time more softly. He stiffened at your presence. He angrily wiped away a tear that had slid down his cheek and threw his books into his locker carelessly.
“I’m sorry…” You said sincerely, not liking the fact that you had cause him to be angry at you. Peter just shook his head at your response, feeling more tears pool in his eyes.
“No your not…” He responds, his voice slightly breaking at the end. It was only now that you could tell that he was in fact, crying. Your stomach dropped.
You reached a hand out slowly and placed it onto his shoulder, enjoying the warmth that traveled it’s way up your arm once you did so. He angrily shrugged your hand off of him leaving you hurt and confused.
He slammed his locker shut and decided to turn to face you.
“The guys flirt with you 24/7 and you flirt back, always replying to the letters they send you. You relish in the attention that’s showered over you, soaking it up.” What?
“You use them for your own personal enjoyment! You use guys then throw them away like they’re trash!” You stood, dumbstruck as he continued on with his rant.
“You let these useless guys walk all over you…” His tone started to drop.
“You let them use you and then spit you out… so maybe that’s why you do it too but it’s not right… what about the guy who actually likes you for you? Who actually cares about you? And cares how you feel?” Your mouth dropped.
“Who?” You asked, cutting him short.
“What do you mean Who? Me! Obviously!” He calls out without realising. Your heart melt at his confession. His eyes widen once he realised what he had said and turns around quickly, his face flushing a dark shade of red. You bit your lip as you stepped closer towards him, he sensed you growing closer and froze.
“You… like me?” You asked out shyly. He glanced over to you and quickly shook his head. You smiled in response and stepped closer to him, noticing him gulp at the close proximity between the two of you.
“N-n-n-o” He stutters out, his eyes drifting from your eyes to your lips. You noticed this and brought and subconsciously brought your tongue out to dampen your dry lips. He followed this action with his eyes, the butterflies doing black flips inside his stomach.
“What’s a archaeornithomimus?” You asked. He looks you back in the eyes with raised eyebrows.
“What? Why the hell are you asking me about dinosaurs when you know when your this close to me I can’t even breath-” You cut him once you heard what you had wanted to hear. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer towards you, cutting him off at the action. His eyes widen and on instinct his hands wrap around your waist.
“Breathe…” He mutters out, staring at your lips.
“Would it be incredibly cheesy for me to say that I really want to give you my first kiss?” You ask out. His eyes widen at your words.
“F-f-first ki-s-s-” You cut him off when you gently placed your lips onto his. He froze underneath you, not believing what was happening right now. You pulled back slowly, your eyes slowly opening once you could feel the tingle on your lips.
“C-c-can we do that again?” Peter asks out shyly, looking you in the eyes. You smiled with red cheeks and nod your head. Peter, this time, brought you to him and placed his lips onto yours, slowly beginning to move them against yours. You followed his lead. He gently snaked a hand from your waist to cup your cheek, tilting your head slightly for easier access. You heart fluttered at his gentleness, knowing he was taking his time with you. He softly massaged your cheek with the pad of your thumb causing a rush of tingles to shoot up your spine. You never knew kissing would be this… Amazing?
He pulled you even closer and deepened the kiss, lightly sucking at your bottom lip for you to grant him access. You did so happily and enjoyed the new wave of pleasure that was sent through your body when his tongue met yours. You moaned at the contact, enjoying the feeling oh so much.
He quickly pulled away and smiled.
“You keep doing that and I’m not going to want to stop” He spoke up hoarsely. You just chuckled and pulled lightly at his curls, urging his face closer to yours again as you met him for another passionate kiss.
Ash’s Writing Challenge (3) - Little Red Riding Hood - This is the story behind Negan’s red scarf [continued]
Negan x Female Reader
A/N: *Perspectives change a little bit in this chapter. This is a short story based on the Little Red Riding Hood. <33 This is a three part series for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash challenge xx This is the last piece that I’ve been working on for her challenge & I had loads of fun doing it xx * lol i also realize this might have taken a darker turn than expected lol
You were never one to make stupid mistakes, but what you just did was completely unforgivable. You were trying to rationalize the situation in your head. If you had known who he was you would have been out of there before he managed to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. You stared at your shaky palms; the same hands that grabbed onto him holding your bodies close together…
Whatever feeling of satisfaction you felt dissipated the instant he confirmed who he was. You slumped down onto the muddy, wet ground, reaching your hand to your neck to hold onto your scarf but your fingers only touched the marks that he left on your skin. Regret sank deep into your core as your stomach tightened, the tears welling around your eyes.
swiped a finger through the mess and tasted it, “Hmm, delicious. I’ll have you
cumming in my mouth next time.” He groaned and leaned down to kiss you but you
pushed him off, standing up and heading for the adjoining room, “I expect you
to be here tomorrow morning with the details of the person I will impersonate.”
You call out, not sparing him a backward glance. He was left to collect his
wits and adjust his clothes, thinking about what he has gotten himself into, as
the sound of running water and your soft humming floated to his ears through
the closed door.
perched on a seat in the far corner of the colossal celebration hall, observing
everything around you with wide-eyed wonder. The guests hardly batted an eye at
the extravagant decorations, but you on the other hand have never seen such
splendor before in your life. You wanted to shake them out of their haughty
stupor and make them acknowledge the splendidness around them, have them say
that, yes, they too are astonished.
present was a mixture of every color and form, all wearing rich fabrics and
lavish jewelry. Clothes of every shape and design, styles you’ve never even
heard of. You yourself weren’t any less striking, clad in a dress soft as a
lover’s caress, the satin showing not a hint of a crease. The color was that of
the purest emerald, Taehyung’s favorite, and clasped around your neck was the
magnificent spotted coat of a black panther that Taehyung had hunted down
You were assuming
the form of the Lady Tiye, a noblewoman whose roof Taehyung had stayed under
during his six month visit to the Amarna lands. She was the perfect disguise.
The king and queen knew of her enough not to question her presence, but not
enough to know her face or much else about her. Taehyung had come to your room
early this morning and stayed there, describing every detail of her and making
sure you immolated her perfectly. He left before anyone could notice he was
missing. Left alone in your room, you stood in front of the mirror, staring at
your new form for a good while, awestruck by the woman’s beauty. She had silky
flowing black hair, dark piercing eyes, and luscious full lips. Her body was a
perfect hourglass figure, her breasts ample and her legs long and slender.
Characters: Baekhyun x Reader Summary: Sometimes, timing is never one’s strong suit. When Y/N returns home after years of being away, Baekhyun and y/N catch up rekindle a burning fire that was put out too soon. NOTE: for the wonderful, and ever so patiently sweet @byunshim – this is for you, and i hope you like it! xx Type: Angst Length: 3,458 -Admin R
It was another one of those brutally cold winter days. The wind was blowing with so much force, which was not helping the situation. You were desperately trying to make it to your daily coffee shop stop, battling the cold air hitting your face. You hastily walk into the coffee shop, shivering and trying to defrost from the numbingly cold outside air. The smell of freshly brewed coffee beans fill the atmosphere and reaches your nose, automatically warming you up and sending goosebumps along your arms. You grab your order of coffee, and turn to sit at a table near the window. It may be cold as balls out there, but it sure is beautiful, you thought to yourself as you sat, taking a sip of your drink. It’s been years since you’ve found yourself back in this country. And sitting in this coffee shop, in your hometown, could only bring up nothing but feelings of nostalgia. It begins to course through your veins and you smile at the feeling of home.
You’re skimming through the paper that was previously left on the table, catching up on local stories, passing time away.
“Y/N?” a strangely familiar voice calls out. You look up and your eyes scan the tall, beautiful being standing before you. Your mind is racing at the speed of light, trying to process what your eyes were seeing. There he was, Byun Baekhyun standing there, wide eyed and with a cup of coffee in hand.
“B-Baek?” Was all you could say before you two erupted in a fit of gentle laughs and astonishment, hugging each other. You both start to engage in the typical conversation of disbelief that either of you are actually really there, commenting on how long it’s been since you two have seen each other.
“Eight years, actually,” Baekhyun says, taking the other unoccupied seat at your table.
A/N: Hey guys! Here comes another chapter of Too Close, I’m sorry I have not updated in such a long time, I have been really busy, I hope you guys don’t hate me. This chapter is more of a filler chapter but there will be a chapter in Baekhyun’s POV because it will help things progress into the actual romance. Anyway thank you so much for the support I love you all. - Admin K
After the very heart stopping scratch incident I tried to avoid Baekhyun completely, going out of my way to seem busy whenever he asked me to hang out or have lunch with me. It’s not that I didn’t want to hang out with him or I felt uncomfortable around him, it was that whenever he just got a bit too close to me my heart felt like it was going to explode, my knees went weak and I stuttered so much. After several attempts to talk to him normally I gave up, he could not see me react to him like this.
You made your way to the cafeteria after a long and boring 2 hours of English class. You walked inside, the smell of food immediately creeping up your nostrils, you released a pleased sigh. After you got your food you settled down at at table all the way at the back in a corner hoping nobody, or to be specific a certain someone, didn’t see you. While munching on the last two fries on your plate you stood up as you felt someone’s hands push your shoulders down to sit down again. You looked up, ready to fight whoever touched you like that, until you saw Baekhyun sitting down on the chair to your left placing his backpack on the chair next to him, his right hand stayed pressed on your shoulder as if telling you to stay there. Your hands started shaking as you realized he was touching you. You gently took his hand and moved it away placing it on his thigh.
“Hey Baekhyun” you said shyly. Baekhyun? You never call him Baekhyun, you saw his eyes widened when you said his name like that, so coldly. You couldn’t blame him, it even surprised you that that came out of your mouth, not having called him Baekhyun ever since you met him.
He moved his chair so that he was facing you, then took your own chair and moved it to face him as well. He didn’t look like the sweet loving friend, there was something different in his eyes. Was he mad? No, he couldn’t be he can never be mad at you, and if he was he wouldn’t be talking to you. His eyes bore into your soul, he wasn’t saying anything he was just keeping eye contact with you. Your cheeks started burning and you looked away learning a loud groan from the boy sitting in front of you.
“Y/N would you look at me please!” He half screamed, you could hear the annoyance in his voice.
“O..okay sorry” You stuttered, here we go again
“Would you please tell me what is wrong with you?” He finally said after what felt like an eternity of him staring into your lifeless soul, leaving you breathless and with the biggest blush you had ever had.
“What do you mean? Nothing is wrong with me Baek” You gave him the most believable smile you could give him at the moment.
You heard him chuckle while he looked at his thighs and played with his fingers in frustration.
“Bullshit” He whispered more to himself than to anyone
He released a desperate sigh and pulled his hands to his face groaning once again and grabbing his hair, pulling on it. Suddenly out of nowhere he stood up, grabbing your hand to pull you to stand as well. He started getting closer to you and your heart started beating uncontrollably ‘What is he doing?’ You thought, it wasn’t until he spread his arms that you realized what he was doing. He gave you the sincerest smile ever.
“Come here” He said spreading his arms even more
You started walking backwards but he kept trying to get closer. That was until you crashed into the corner of the cafeteria ‘I chose this corner hoping he wouldn’t find me, look where it got me.’ You almost wanted to chuckle at the irony of it all but you had no time.
“Baek I really need to get to class, I have this really important test that-”
He pulled you into a hug, his face at the side of your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
“Would you just shut up and let your best friend hug you?” He said into your ear
Best Friend…that is all you were to him
You wanted to bring yourself to push him away, to tell him that you had to go like you had been doing for the past 4 days but your body was in complete shock, you could not move or function at all. The only thing you could think of was his breath on your ear and his hands on your back. You moved your hands, that were placed firmly to your sides, to his back hugging him tight. ‘Who cares? It’s not the first time we hug anyway’ you thought. Lost in your trance, you jumped when you heard his voice once again.
“I know you more than anyone Y/N, I know something is wrong, you have been avoiding me for the past 4 days. I miss you so much that I can cry right now you know?” he whispered into your ear
You chuckled. ‘Always so dramatic’ you thought. Baekhyun smiled when he heard your laugh, feeling relieved. Looking around, you noticed everyone in the cafeteria was looking at you and Baekhyun having your little moment, girls scoffing because ‘that one hot guy’ was hugging someone else. You started growing uncomfortable.
“It’s nothing Baek, I’m just stressed with school” you lied right through your teeth
“Are you sure that’s it?” He asked worried, pulling back to look at you with both of his hands on your shoulders.
You nodded giving him a big smile, you had missed him so much
“Well you know you can always talk to me for anything Y/N, please don’t run away, not from me, I can’t stand that” he said brushing the hair on your face back, tucking it in your ear, your cheeks immediately flushing with a red color.
“I love you so much” He added giving you the most loving look
That hurt, a lot. You smiled at him through your pain, you sighed. ‘Not like I want you to love me’ you thought while looking at the floor while he took your hand and dragged you to your next class.
You wanted this conversation with Jae to be very casual, so
what better time to bring up the topic than while you were both preparing
dinner for everyone.
Your eyes remained fixed on the bubbling soup that you
stirred occasionally, but your mind was conjuring up the best possible way to
say it. Before you know it, you blurt it all out.
“Hey Jae? Did I ever tell you that I’m bisexual?”
He looks at you. “No. No you haven’t. Are you really?”
“Girl~~” he says in that high-pitched voice of his.
“What~?” you giggle nervously. He looks at you again and
this time he nudges you with his elbow.
“Were you nervous about telling me?”
Jae wasn’t exactly a scary man. On the contrary, he was very
easy to talk to. However, this topic was a little more sensitive to you…more
personal. You needed to make yourself vulnerable before him and that was a little harder to do.
“Yeah, I mean…you know. It’s not exactly a well-accepted
“Babe, you’re a whole package and I want all of you, okay?”
He reaches over to kiss your cheek.
You were sitting next to Wonpil before the grand piano in
the studio. He was playing mindless melodies and you were lost in thought,
tapping away at one key.
“Hey, whatcha thinking about?” He asks, poking your cheek.
“Mmmm…” your head turns in doubt, unsure if you really wanted to say anything. He watches you out of the corner of his eyes, patient and supportive.
“Is there something bothering you?” he asks more gently now.
You let out a loud breath. “Can I tell you one of my secrets?”
“yeah! Go for it!” He swings his whole body sideways so that
his legs are on either side of the bench and his undivided attention is on you. He begins to mess with your face, moving hairs out of the way and tracing your nose bridge with his thumb as you collect your thoughts.
“Well, I’m bisexual. So… you know, I like both men and
women…but… I mean, obviously not at the same time!” You began to ramble. “I’m
monogamous. I’m a monogamous, bisexual woman…” Your voice trailed off as you
grew embarrassed of your stupid rant.
“Y/N,” He laughs at you and you at him, both offended and self-conscious.
“No, no,” He continues to laugh and turns your body so that
your back is against his chest and his arms are around your stomach. Wonpil is never afraid to show his love physically, and whenever he felt you need comforting, he would be there to hold you. “You’re so
cute! Don’t worry, I still love you!”
You silently let the whole situation settle as you enjoy his embrace. Then, he suddenly breaks the romance.
“Also, I know what bisexual is,” He laughs at you once again.
The talk about your ex’s had come up and you were now
sitting across the couch from Sungjin, your body turned towards him. A strange
smile contorted on his face, not from distaste but from surprise.
“Her name was Kai?”
Your cheeks shine a slight shade of pink. His gaze falls to
his hands and he chuckles awkwardly.
“Sooo~ you like girls also?”
The answer was obvious but he needed to ask.
You twiddle your fingers and you feel a wave of sorrow
overcome you. The silence that follows causes your heart to grow insecure, and
you begin to think that maybe he was put off but the whole thing. He notices
the way your body caved into itself and panics a bit, not wanting to see you
sad. He shifts his weight on the couch closer to you and his arms wrap around
your back. You feel his warm forehead lean against yours.
“Don’t feel bad Y/N. I was just a little surprised
since I still don’t know you that well. Let’s tell each other more about
ourselves, okay? No fears. No worries.”
He tightens his grip around you into a warm and comforting
YoungK hadn’t found out from you directly. One of your friends let it slip to him that you were bisexual and that you were probably too scared to tell him yet. He felt a little hurt at first that perhaps he wasn’t as approachable as he would like to be as a boyfriend, but that hurt soon transformed into sympathy. He desperately made it his new mission to let you know he’d love you no matter what…and no scenario was excluded from this. One time, as you and the guys celebrated Dowoon’s birthday, YoungK made it loud and clear that he was very open minded.
The hustle and bustle of the dinner party was at full swing when the conversation of love came up. YoungK took this opportunity to pitch in a subliminal message. You hear his voice clearly from your position in the kitchen.
“I think it’s important for a couple to communicate with each other,” He says, as the other guys nod. “I mean, even when one person is scared to say one of their secrets, the other might be TOTALLY ACCEPTING OF THEM NO MATTER THE SITUATION!” he says, amplifying his voice towards the end. You couldn’t help but laugh and pop your head out from the kitchen doorway to look at him. He catches a glimpse of you and sends you that charming smile of his and you feel your inside warm up little.
Out of all the possible events for a normal day off, adopting a fish would never have been a guess of yours. However, that is exactly what you and Dowoon had done. You finished bringing it home and placed the tank in it’s new location before starring at the tiny fish swim around. Your were both sitting on the floor, cross-legged and lost in trance as your eyes follow Rupert the fish. Your mind soon begins to drift towards deeper thoughts.
You turn your head, chin still leaning on the palm of your hands, and look at Dowoon. He turns after sensing your gaze.
“Hmmmm…there are somethings we still don’t know about each other,” you begin.
“Oh really? Like what?”
“Well, for one…I’m also attracted to woman,” you say abruptly, watching his reaction carefully. But Dowoon was a very silly man, and as such he was sometimes hard to read.
“Wait, you’re bisexual you mean?”
“Well then! Looks like I have to come up with an interesting new fact about myself!,” he says, clasping his hands together.
“You don’t mind?”
“Mmmm. That’s not up to me is it?” He directs his gaze to the ceiling and scrunches his lips,”
Something inside you burst a little, and you felt so alleviated. You heave your weight onto his, making him lose balance from his kneeling and tumble to the ground with you on top of him.
“I feel much better!”
“Uh…okay!” He kisses your nose, confused by your behavior.
Lefou, the nicest villain out there. He wasn’t supposed to end up in this prison but because of his loyalty to a man that would never love him the same way. He could’ve switched sides so many times, gone to the good side and left Gaston to his narcissistic ways but he never did. He stayed by Gaston’s side, always going along with whatever crazy plan he had to try to gain Belle’s love, which never worked out. Gatsby never understood why Lefou always stayed so loyal, he should’ve known Gaston’s ways. Now, he was stuck on this isle even though everyone knew that the man should be in Auradon with all the other heroes. He now sat at the head of the dining table surrounded by Gaston’s children who all considered him to be their uncle, the closest thing they had a family other than each other and Gaston. Although who could really count their father who was more obsessed with keeping himself look young and the legacy that his children would leave once he was gone their family. Gatsby hadn’t remembered the last time her and her father had a real conversation. Her father cared way more about the older twins than he did for his younger twins and everybody knew it. Jr. and The Third were just way too much like Gaston to pass it up while Gil and Gatsby strayed away from their father’s narcissistic abilities. Gatsby and Gil on one side while Gaston Jr. and Gaston The Third sat on the other side. “Hey Gats,” Lefou asked, causing the only girl at the table to look up. “What’s up? You’re not eating your food.” It was true. While her brothers scarfed down all their food, Gatsby was lost in a trance as she continued to move the mushy potatoes around the plate. She shook her head, putting some of the food that her uncle had prepared specifically for this night on the fork. “Sorry.” She apologized, something that wasn’t too familiar with her. “I just got distracted.” Which wasn’t a lie. She was distracted. She kept thinking about Jay and how he was back in the isle. She wondered whether or not he was going to be sticking around. She also knew that the second that this dinner was done, Gil was going to go tattle tale to Uma about who he met up with in the marketplace and that wasn’t going to be good, especially for King Ben. Lefou looked at her for a few more moments with an eyebrow raised, not believing what she was talking about. His eyes then traveled to her twin brother. While Gatsby was lethargic in her eating, Gil was the complete opposite. Though he usually stuffed anything in his path, this was different. He was trying to eat as quick as possible to go tell Uma who he met up with. Gatsby knew how much Uma wanted revenge on Mal. After all, Mal and the other three were able to travel to Auradon while the rest of them were stuck on the isle. “Careful Gil. You might choke.” Her uncle said, still looking in amazement at how much the boy could eat. Slurping up the rest of the food, Gil was then done with his food. “It was amazing Uncle Lefou,” He says with a giant grin. “Like always.” He was right. The food that Lefou made was amazing and if he lived anywhere except for the Isle, he could’ve really made a name for himself with the amazing meals that he made. No one cared in the isle if you could cook, you just had to survive. “I’m going to excuse myself.” Gil said, wiping his mouth clean of whatever mess he may have left behind on his face. He then threw the napkin on top of his plate and began to make his way out of his uncle’s house. “I’ll see you next week, Uncle Lefou!” He calls from somewhere down a random hallway. Gatsby took that as time for her to leave too. Placing her napkin on top of her clean plate, she pushed out her chair and it emitted a large squeaking sound. She had places to go and people who she had to see although admittedly, she wasn’t in the biggest hurry to see them but she knew that she had to. Gil was going in one direction, a straight beeline to Uma’s restaurant and Gatsby had to go in the other direction. Gil was going to spill everything about his encounter with King Ben and the other villain kids to Uma and Uma was going to seek revenge. It’s the only thing she had been talking about ever since the kids were chosen to go to Auradon. “Gatsby, you too?” Lefou spoke up from the head of the table, causing the brunette to look in the man’s direction. Though he still looked somewhat like the Lefou Gatsby had grown up with, she knew that he had aged on the inside. He wasn’t quick to go on just any type of adventure with Gaston, whether it be out hunting or to his tavern’s. He had grown older and matured, and maybe he realized that Gaston just wasn’t worth pining after. He wasn’t going to get near anything out of it compared to everything that he put into it before they were considered villains and thrown on this island. “Sorry Lefou,” She gave him a quick smile. “Duty calls.” She tells him and her two older brothers as she got up from the table. Compared to the older Gaston twins, her and Gil were more involved with the rest of the teenagers on the Isle than they ever were. Sure, they went to school with most of them and spent way too much time drooling over Evie, but that was pretty much it. They liked each other’s company and spending time with their father than being evil and wrecking havoc on the isle like Gil loved to do or finding some new boy and makeup tool like Gatsby loved to do. Her uncle let her leave with a nod of his head before he focused his attention on the older twins, asking them what they were doing with their days. Making her way through the marketplace, she could feel people’s eyes on her. They either wanted her for whatever amount of money she had to her name or they wanted her for her body. Gatsby wasn’t planning on giving anyone either of them. She didn’t focus her attention on what was around her, as young mothers pleaded for something to be bought from their pitiful bunch of knick knacks and men argued loudly over the price of somewhat that wasn’t meant to be argued over. It was already so low, people just wanted some type of money for their goods. A lot of what people were selling were hung up high somewhere because people would steal whatever they could find. Nobody wanted to spend the money that they had because they didn’t know when the next tuft of money was going to come about. That’s why so many people created stalls in the marketplace and shops wherever else they could. Gatsby knew so many of the villain kids who’s parents had run shops. Gaston never opened a shop and he never will, proclaiming he would never work for someone or have someone work for him. People had better things to do than to spend all day in some dusty old shop, trying to convince people to buy whatever they were selling. Gaston made his money by selling whatever game he could find on the isle to those who needed it. He made a lot of money off of Ursula’s Fish and Chips. Gatsby had reached her destination. With a quick throw of one of the rocks in the pile that was already there, she watched as the gate slowly moved upward before revealing a set of stairs that would lead to another stairs and so on until she reached the top floor of the building. The building that had been her haven for so many years but one that she hadn’t touched ever since a certain four people were sent away to Auradon. Reaching the top of the floor she wanted to be on, she could hear hushed voices talking. “Glad to see that I was invited to this little reunion.” Her voice reeks of sarcasm as she walks into the old hangout area and everyone’s gaze falls over her. Even though she wasn’t looking at them, she knew that they were looking her up and down. Jay, Evie and Carlos now had a better look to see how much the girl had transformed. Her dark hair that she got from her father had grown longer and she had left her bangs to grow as she parted her hair down the middle, somewhat long strands of hair fell on either side of her oval face. She had traded out her old go to outfit, black leather pants with a black top and a green leather jacket for a new outfit everyday. Or at least she tried to put together new combinations of clothes. It wasn’t as easy as it was now without Evie being there but Gatsby would never let it slip it out of her mouth. Now, she modeled a tight green leather skirt that barely covered her butt and tucked into that, was a black top that hugged her in the best possible way and sky high platform black boots on her feet. She wore outfits that hugged the curves that seemed to have miraculously appeared in the last year or so. She knew she had a body and she knew that she could flaunt it, otherwise how was she supposed to get the guys? Scanning her eyes over the room, everything still seemed to be the same. Memories flood every cranny of her hippocampus as she remembers each time one of them brought something new in. They weren’t incognito at all whenever they brought something big in, like the bed that sat in the corner of one of the rooms or the desk that she saw Jay and Carlos sitting at but there were a few small things that Gatsby loved to sneak in. Whether it was the blankets that were still strewn on the bed and the couches or a few bottles of spray paint when she knew that Mal was running out. Running her eyes over the several spray painted masterpieces that littered the walls, she finally found the one that she wished she never looked for. The small red spray painted heart along with a J and G that had dried paint running down it. She turned to face her old friends and crossed her arms over her chest as she raised an eyebrow. Though their faces looked their same and they were wearing the type of clothes they would normally wear on the isle. they weren’t the same Jay, Evie, Carlos and Mal that Gatsby had grown up with. Just like Gatsby wasn’t the same Gatsby that they “forget” to say goodbye to six months ago. “What are you guys doing back here?” She asks. She realizes that one person replaced the group of four that she had seen with Gil over an hour ago. “Where’s Beasty Boy?” “Gatsby!” Evie squeals, not answering the girl’s previous question. Instead, she bulldozed her way over to the girl who used to be her best friend. That was, of course, before Mal and her became the best of friends in Auradon. “Look at your makeup,” She gushes, her chocolate brown eyes peering at the makeup that took Gatsby way too long to do this morning. Her eyeliner pencil kept getting cold and she would have to reheat it with the lighter that she always carried with her. “You’ve gotten so much better at it.” She compliments the girl and goes to reach for her hands but Gatsby keeps them crossed at her chest as she looks at the blueberry princess with a stone cold face, something that she never thought that she would do. Whenever it was just Evie, Dizzy, daughter of Drizella, and Gatsby inside of Curl Up and Dye, the three girls loved to swap stories about their looks. Each of them had something that there were especially good at. Evie was amazing at making different types of clothes, Dizzy spent so much time at her grandmother’s salon that she was a pro at hair and Gatsby started to learn how to do makeup. She was always intrigued at the fact that you could create a masterpiece on your face, hide all your implications, make yourself look completely unlike yourself and when you were bored, you could wash it all over and start over. You couldn’t do it with hair without it taking a few months at a time to do and with clothes, you always had to change out of what you were wearing previously and put together a whole new outfit. With makeup however, it was so easy to change everything so quickly. Evie’s face falls as she realizes that this might not be the Gatsby she knows and loves. Her perfect pink lips form an O as her hands stop mid-air, she freezes for a second and in that second, Gatsby can see that her usual regal posture is diminished and once again, she’s just a kid from the isle once again. Then, just like that, it’s gone and she’s back to thinking she’s next in line for the throne. “Ben’s been captured,” Carlos answers the question she asked. “By Uma.” Gatsby’s eyes widened. She had just left Gil not even ten minutes ago and he had already managed to make it to Uma’s shop? Lefou’s house and Ursula’s shop weren’t that close together. “Well, I came here to warn you to not let Uma see him but I guess I’m too late for that.” She pulls out the last few words in the sentence as she spies the drawing that Mal still had up of her. It was one of the last big portraits that Mal had created on one of the walls. She had told Gatsby that she was finally part of their group and that she was as Mal loved to put it “Rotten to the core”. It was a large black and white picture of Gatsby, complete with the makeup that Gatsby used to think was good and thick eyebrows. “Uma wants Mal to go to the chip shop alone to negotiate.” Evie fills Gatsby in on the details and to be honest, Gatsby was a little surprised. Did they forget everything that they ever learned during their sixteen years on the isle. When they got to Auradon was everything just erased from their memory? What if Gatsby was just going to run over to Ursula’s shop and tell Uma everything that these four were about to gush to her? Did they think that everything was going to go back to normal even though they forget to either bring her to Auradon or just tell her goodbye? Maybe it wasn’t that bad of an idea. To go to Uma and tell her everything that they were going to tell her. She had known the four for as much of her life as she could remember and she knew some of their most secret tactics to getting what they wanted. They used to always confide in Gatsby and include her in every single plan they had and it seemed as if that hadn’t changed. Gatsby would probably still be invited to join the four of them to go rescue Ben as well. As much as Gatsby despised the teal haired girl, they both wanted the same thing. To get off of this horrible island. If she wanted to take action and get herself and her brothers off of this island, she’s probably going to have team up with Uma but that was it. This would be the only time that she would ever think of being in cahoots with Uma. So Gatsby let them talk. She let the group think that everything was still peachy perfect. That everything was back to normal. The way it was before they were called off to Auradon. Before Gatsby had done a complete turn around and found herself in different beds on different days on the week. Before she had heard her heart break when Gil, out of all people, was the one to tell her that her so called friends were called to go to Auradon. That neither her boyfriend nor her best friend decided to tell her goodbye and that they were going to try to get her out of there as quick as possible. Gatsby let them think that she was still their friend and when Mal went to go talk to Uma, Gatsby would wait until Mal left and then she would go talk to Uma about how they can snake their way into Auradon. Everything would work out for the leftovers on the isle.
My friend spends her fortunes collecting limited edition items, shelving her precious children into containers and containers that span the breadth of her entire room. I sit there, mesmerized by each and every object, her dedication…counting in my head how long it must have taken, counting with my fingers how much money she must have spent…to realize I don’t quite have that many fingers.
Money. Every one loves money, those who say they don’t probably never realized that in this society, everything costs something. A homeless woman shakes a plastic cup in my direction as I race to get onto the morning bus for work.
-Deet- The machine beeps, invisibly withdrawing little bits of my blood and sweat. But I refuse to slave away like this for a manmade system…slave away for materials that will only dust over time. My friend says I’m not adapting, with the implication that one day even the slightest naivety in me will be tainted by the hunger for money, just as it has done with her.
A race. My friends tell me life is a race, a competition, a battle of who can pocket as much in the shortest amount of time with the shortest amount of effort.
“I want to train for a marathon,” I announce to a room of chuckles as they stare me from head to toe.
“Well, you still need money, lots of it even to sign up for the marathon,” they jeer.
I guess, that’s true. Everything costs something. Rolling my sore shoulders, I squeeze through the crowded bus to the exit located at the center of the bus. The little claustrophobic child in me thinks this way, I can escape reality when need be. With all my might, I cling onto the metal pole - an action of contradiction in itself. Escape reality, you say? Then why are you grabbing for dear life?
“Here, sit here,” a silvery voice offers as its owner stands up and invites me to sit down on the seat he once occupied.
I shake my head and turn away, closing myself off from the world that seemed so daunting and merciless. According to the philosophy, everything cost something so his kindness must cost something. And as a broke post college grad, emptied of anything remarkable enough to pay the riches, I settle to declining without a word.
The young man glances up at me, his lower lip protruding a bit, wondering why this strange girl seemed as though he had asked for her bank account number. But he shrugs, guides an elderly woman into the seat, and to my dismay takes the spot next to me. Unlike me, he nonchalantly crosses his arms over his chest and leans his back against the door. Out of reflex, I latch onto his collar and tug. The miscalculated force causes him to crash right into me. Wincing, I blink and peer up, right into his gorgeous puppy eyes. They’re soft but alluring. I’m not sure if I’m breathing anymore.
“It’s…It’s dan-dangerous to lean against the door,” I stutter in between allotted breathes.
Passengers push and pull, locking the two of us into an unfortunate cul-de-sac. The young man lifts an arm up, what he thinks is offering me a protective barrier at a comfortable distance. Instead, I misinterpret it as a flirtatious reenactment of the infamous kabedon move. He throws me a handsome smile and I immediately turn my back to face him. My heart fumbles between thundering out of fear and celebrating in joy to be in the presence of God’s most handsome child. Due to my lost trance, my grip on the metal bar had unknowingly loosened. I heave and fumble to latch on when the bus takes a sharp turn. Instantaneously, the nimble young man catches me by the waist.
“Don’t worry, I got you,” he reassures, taking my hand and maneuvering it back onto the metal pole. His touch is gentle but firm. I get lost in admiration at the smoothness of his beautiful hands that seem to mock my heavily battered and chapped ones. Sensing my discomfort, he eases his hold and moves his hand to the space directly above mine. Without my knowledge, a frown graces my lips.
“What stop are you getting off on?” the gentleman asks.
To my better judgement, I answer with honesty. Immediately, I internally reprimand my carelessness. So all it took was a handsome testosterone-filled human to make me drop my guard.
“Oh, same,” he replies.
“Re-really?” I stutter.
“I’ll protect you until then,” he half-jokes.
“I won’t let you fall,” he slates.
No. Of course, I will not fall. I haven’t fallen ever. And I will not let myself fall…because the price of falling is far too much.
Yet, my heart responds with a gracious smile.
“My name is Baekhyun,” he stops me in my tracks when I dash as soon as we reach my bus stop. Rummaging through his coat pockets, he takes out a business card, blows off invisible dust, and hands it to me.
“How much does it cost?” is the first thing that sips from my lips.
Chuckling, he replies, “Free.”
“Free?” I respond, a bit shock, though my brain has already signaled for my hands to accept it.
“Except…” Baekhyun rubs the back of his neck and nervously jokes, “Maybe your name and number.”
My body jerks and eyes widen; I’m seconds from shoving the business card back into his precious beautiful hands.
“Name,” he corrects, “Just a name will do,” he backtracks after sensing my discomfort.
Nodding, I pay him with my name for his hospitality on the bus…a trade that made me feel guilty because it seemed like a lacking payment. But the gentleman accepts, complimenting on how beautiful and unique my name is…and that he’d remember it the next time we meet. As we separate, from the corner of my eyes, I catch him racing to get onto the adjacent bus…
“Byun Baekhyun. Financial Advisor,” the business card read. I cackle a bit at my own naivety. Financial advisor, just the person I needed but didn’t want. Just the wit I needed to get pass this roadblock in my life, but just the reason I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to be calculated and sly and cunning, like a fox.
Perhaps, I’m not adapting well.
I catch my fingers bending and unbending, counting away.
Or perhaps, I’m already becoming more calculated than I think I am…
“Hey!” Baekhyun greets, cheerfully gracing my name with much more worth than I thought I’d ever mean to anyone, much less a kind stranger.
“Hi, Baekhyun-ssi,” I shyly bow. Already, my cheeks flush, betraying my interest, which growing up, my mother taught, would surely cost me.
Grinning at my reply, the young man automatically positions himself as my personal bodyguard. Today, I hesitate before spinning around. It’s a quiet but calm bus ride, just as I’ve always wished. I could sense a few times that Baekhyun wanted to initiate conversation but feared scaring me. Internally, I cursed my anti-social personality.
“Thank you,” I bow in gratitude and voluntarily hand him a folded up piece of paper for his kind services.
Slightly amused and incredibly curious, he accepts my payment. I flee away before I could see his reaction. But the buzzing of my phone right after answers my curiosity. A silly emoticon greets me as soon as I open the device.
“Mornin’ :)” Baekhyun texts me the next day.
“Good morning,” I reply with professionalism.
“I’ll be there in five minutes,” he alerts.
“Okay,” I type back, rocking back and forth on my feet at the bus stop. Three minutes later, the bus arrives and to my dismay, my male companion hasn’t shown up yet. “The bus is here,” I message.
“Wait for me :(,” he replies.
“What do I get for waiting?” I automatically type. Instantly, I regret it, shoving my phone back into my pocket, because I realize I’ve really become more calculated than I had hoped. Slouching, I drag myself onto the bus. I’m midway through pushing through the crowd when I feel my phone vibrate against my thigh.
I fail to suppress a giggle when I open the message to a selfie of Byun Baekhyun’s handsome face. I spend too many moments longer admiring the photo that I forgot this is supposed to be the payment for my waiting. With a gasp, I dash to exit the bus but the floor beneath me had began to move. From the window, I catch a sprinting Baekhyun growing smaller and smaller until he is forced to give up in a fit of pants, huffing and puffing for air.
“:(,” he texts.
“Sorry,” I type back.
“Send me a picture of you,” he surprises me by requesting. Though hesitant, I figure it is to make things even. Since I failed to wait for him, despite his payment, I had to pay him back. Fixing my hair out of my face as best as possible, I snap a quick selfie and send it to him.
The next day, I arrive to a suave and yawning Byun Baekhyun at the bus station. At the sight of my arrival, he immediately straightens up, his entire stature beaming at my presence. Automatically, I bashfully turn away and out of habit, loop a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Mornin’,” he chirps, rocking back and forth on his heels as if he’s just been gifted boxes of chocolate.
“Hey,” I reply back and make note, “You’re early today…”
“Yeah, I didn’t want to miss you— or I mean the bus again,” Baekhyun nervously chuckles, stuffing his hands into his pockets. A tinge of pink dusts his cheeks.
“I see,” I throw him a soft smile, oblivious to his stutter because I’m lost in a world of nerves, myself.
Naturally, we make our way to the doors near the center of the bus. He positions himself to stand guard over my smaller physique. Today, I surprise both of us by not turning away, though, I can’t seem to be brave enough for direct eye contact so I settle on fidgeting with the tassels of my coat and staring at his briefcase. Must be full of money or documents that easily exchanges for cash six times its thickness… I shake my head and frown.
“Hm?” Baekhyun dips his head to observe my expression. Instantly, my body jolts, my cheeks burn up at the close proximity. “Ah, the roads are a bit bumpier today, right?” he straightens himself and interprets. “The government needs to stop wasting money and drilling dayum holes everywhere,” he mumbles under his breath, which causes a giggle to escape from my lips. In turn, a grin spreads across Baekhyun’s face.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” the gentleman requests at the point of separation.
“Mhmm,” I gift him a grin and nod. “What…what do I owe you today?”
“Hm?” he raises his brow, a little amused by the oddity of my calculations. Flattening his lips, he rolls his wrist and glances at his watch. “We both got here ten minutes earlier than normal. Care for some morning coffee to wake our brains up?” he suggests.
“Okay,” I nod in agreement. I tag along with him to the nearby coffee shop.
As soon as he made his order, I prance forth and almost shove the money in the cashier’s face. She blinks while Baekhyun attempts to push my hand away to pay with his credit card.
“I still owe you for today,” I remark.
Both his brows lifts and it takes him a few seconds to make sense of the situation. “You don’t owe me anything,” he answers, swiping his card through the machine. With his other hand, he personally retracts my outstretch palms and stuffs them and the contents back into my pocket. I blink and he throws me one of his cute puppy smiles.
“How much do I owe you for the coffee?” I question when he hands me one of the steaming espressos.
“Be careful, it’s hot,” he, instead, warns.
“Hi,” I beam. My little legs giddily kick back and forth at the sight of Byun Baekhyun.
“Morning,” he greets with a wink that causes my feet to almost lose balance.
“You’re such a good boyfriend,” an elderly lady compliments after observing Baekhyun holding his arm out to block a drunk man from collapsing over me.
The corner of his lip twitches. He turns away but from the bus door’s reflection, I catch his timid grin. I don’t know why I also don’t deny the misinformation.
A season passes by just like that. Then another. With students out from school, morning hours on the bus become less crowded. Taking my hand, Baekhyun guides me through the aisle and we settle down on a pair of seats near the center.
“You’re extra cute today,” he teases.
I stifle back a giggle and turn away.
It doesn’t occur to me that our hands remained interlocked through the bus ride, until it was time to leave and he easily guided me to the exit.
“Mornin’, Beautiful,” Baekhyun grins, toothily.
“Good Morning…um, Hand…” I rub my neck, “…Some…”
The self-proclaimed body guard almost chokes on his coffee. I try to make a run for it because that must have been the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever….but the bus arrives. Baekhyun grabs hold of my wrist, slips his fingers through mine, and tugs me onto the bus.
“What’s wrong?” Baekhyun questions, figuring out that I was troubled as soon as I showed up at the bus station with inadvertent sigh.
“Hm…nothing…” I try to dismiss as we get onto our ride.
“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” he casually counters.
Today, the bus is abnormally crowded due to there being a fair at the downtown area. Baekhyun and I automatically head to our spot near the doors. Holding onto my backpack straps, I continue to sulk. Only the scent of Baekhyun’s cologne instills hope back into me.
“Hm, what’s up?” my male companion questions, tapping me lightly on the tip of my nose.
“It’s not a big deal,” I ponder, chewing on my inner cheeks.
“Well, it’s bothering my Little Sunshine so it’s a big deal,” he concludes. My chest bubbles and tummy flip flops to the nickname.
“Just…just student loans…I’ve been paying for a year and the numbers seem to never move,” I admit.
“Ahh, I see,” my crush nods in acknowledgement. Unknown to either of us, his hand had naturally found mine with a squeeze. “I’m the same,” he informs.
“What?” my eyes widen, baffled by his statement. “How? You’re a financial advisor. Aren’t you really good with these things?”
Baekhyun lets out a chuckle. “Well, not really. I just try my best to come up with plausible financial agendas for clients in different situations. I don’t see myself in any tight situation to need to worry about my student loans just yet.”
“Do you have a plan?” he squeezes my hand again and questions.
I nod, “Yeah, I’ve been paying for it monthly.”
“Then what are you stressing about?”
“Just that, it seems most of my friends aren’t in debt anymore and I’m just —”
“Don’t think about it that way though. Some people have parents that pay for them. Some had scholarships, some were lucky enough to nail high paying jobs off the bat. As long as you have a plan that’s yours, you are fine,” he reassures, “Go at your own pace.”
The frown on my lips flip. “I guess, you’re right.”
“Honestly,” he chuckles, “I’m not even sure how much I still owe. I’m on auto payment.”
My eyes bulge, “For real? I thought people in your field would calculate their money down to the last penny.”
The remark causes the finance grad to fall to another fit of chuckles. “Money isn’t that important to me,” he notes. I stare at him like he grew a horn at the center of his forehead.
That day, I watched as he rushed to catch the adjacent bus after he had thought I entered my work building.
“Mornin’, Babe,” he sneaks in the label that causes both of us to flatten our lips in attempts at suppressing our foolish grins. Instead, I playfully smack him on his abdomen. “aHH, my nutella abs,” he jokes, rubbing his belly.
Covering my smile, I skip ahead and head onto the bus. With a chuckle, my handsome beau tags along, slipping into the seat next to mine…also, slyly slipping his hand through mine. I surprise both of us by turning around with my eyes narrowed into slits. Baekhyun blinks.
“What? We’ve been holding hands everyda—”
“Why do you always chase after the adjacent bus right after dropping me off?” I interrogate.
“Oh,” he nervously rubs his neck and laughs.
“I Google Mapped your work place and you’re supposed to get off one stop before mine,” I continue with raised brow.
“Oh…hah…about that…” Baekhyun awkwardly shuffles his feet. “…because I just want to accompany you longer…” Cheesepuff. You cheesepuff!!!
I eye him half suspicious and half in awe.
“So you take the bus back, everyday?”
“Yeah, just one stop. I could totally walk but I’m lazy,” he shrugs. More like it’s take-the-bus-and-make-it-on-the-dot or walk-and-be-late-to-work…but he’d never admit it.
“That’s wasting money,” I lecture.
“Well, it’s worth it for me,” Baekhyun responds, bringing our intertwined hands up to his lips. He plants a sweet kiss on the back of my hand, sending butterflies fluttering in frenzy within my heart. Out of shyness, I turn away to hide my cherry red cheeks.
Though I’d rather deny, all my life I had been calculating. Calculating how many days I had left to live from the day the doctor held me in his arms and shook his head, calculating how much I owed my mother because she kept a journal of every penny she spent on me, calculating what percent tile I must achieve on the next exam to receive an A on my report card, calculating how much I owed a friend for their kindness, because it always had to be more from my side or else it’s not fair…or else I’d drown in heedful guilt…calculating, calculating…forever calculating.
…when there’s nothing to count. Life didn’t work in numerals.
“Sometimes, the best things in life are priceless,” Baekhyun explains.
I spin my head around to respond. Our lips meet. A half gasps rid from my throat but I hold my breath and stay still as a statue. Grinning, Baekhyun closes his eyes and eases us into a deeper and more affectionate kiss. Like a broken record, the brain races to calculate, but my heart wins the marathon. Slowly, I begin to kiss him back.
“Like you,” he finishes, pressing his forehead against mine, “One of a kind and priceless.”
A/N: Dropping another one-shot ^-^ If you guys haven’t, go readBusy Nights ft. Sehun, the scenario I posted yesterday.
Hope you guys liked this scenario! Do you guys want more? Be sure to follow, like, comment, spam my inbox :)