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 :)
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
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 his life this easily. He would tell her it hurts that she 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 I’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?”
And 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 friends 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 pressed.”
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.
“That’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 grunt 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’t 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?”
And 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 whisper 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.
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.
Thunder rumbles loudly outside, shaking the house and sending terror down Heaven’s spine as she hid in the small cupboard. She and Harry had spent most of the morning playing hide and seek, but now she just wanted to be in his arms and safe on her bed. It had been two weeks since they moved in and they were closer than ever.
“H-Harry!” She slowly pushes opens the cupboard and peers out, looking for the boy that only appears for her. She listens for the whispers and soon, he stands in the doorway looking worried.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He sounds panicked as he nears the cupboard and squats down so he can be face to face with her. She shakes her head with slight tears in her eyes as anxiety courses through her veins.
“Then what’s wrong-” His question ins answered when another loud, earth shattering roar sounds outside, making her yelp and jump into his arms with a sob.
“Scary! Harry, scary! It’s scary!” She cries into his shoulder as he wraps his arms around her tightly and tries to comfort her.
He found it funny how she was cuddling with the ghost of a murdered boy and telling him how scary the weather was. Irony was funny sometimes.
“It’s okay, angel. I’m here,” he coos, snuggling her closer as she sighs in content at the calming feeling he projects.
“Heaven!” They both look up at the loud yell from Heaven’s mother and in a split second, Harry places her beside him gently and disappears, not wanting to be seen.
It pains him to watch as Heaven whimpers and looks around in confusion for the viridescent, kind eyed boy with fawn colored spirals for hair. It always made her sad when he was there one second and gone the next.
“Heaven!” She hears again, making her look up as her mother walks into the room, looking worried.
“Mama?” She mumbles as she begins to smile at the sight of her sweet mother.
“There you are, sweetheart! Been hearing you run around all morning. Having fun exploring?” She asks as she crouches down to sit on the floor with her daughter, brushing her unruly hair out of her face.
Heaven nods with a smile as she leans into her mother’s touch. “Oh, dear, have you been crying? Scary storm outside, huh?” She asks in concern as the sky answers with a strike of bright lightning and another rumble of thunder.
“Scary,” Heaven whispers again, a dazed look in her eyes as she catches a twinkle of light from the chandelier and becomes transfixed by it. Sparkly things always got her attention.
Her mother smiles lightly as she sees what captured her daughter’s attention and sighs gently. “Darling, you’ve gotten all dirty. How about you go take a shower,” She says, making Heaven come back to earth.
She nods excitedly as she always loved bath time and scrambles clumsily to get up. Harry lets out a small laugh at the girl with the clumsiness of a newborn, stumbling fawn and he doesn’t realize how loud he is.
Heaven’s mother freezes as she looks around for the sound and Heaven giggles. “Harry thinks Heaven is funny, mama,” she laughs gleefully as fear rises in her mother’s eyes, but tries to hide it.
“O-Oh, really, sweetheart? Is Harry a n-nice boy?” She worries for the safely of her daughter whether it be her mental health or the fact that there really was a dead boy haunting her child.
Heaven nods quickly, a smile growing wide on her freckled face. “Yes, mama! Harry’s very nice, mama! Yes! Gives me cheek kisses, mama!” She tells as Harry smirks from behind her. Crouching down, he wraps his arms around her and places small kisses on her chubby cheek making her gasp in shock before she giggles wildly.
Heaven’s mother watches in terror as Harry’s transparency dwindles and he begins to appear as a dark outline of a figure, hunched over her daughter with its arms around her.
What shocked her the most was how Harry’s eyes slowly looked up at her and a devilish, evil smirk over came his face. His eyes flickered black and his demon-like, sharp teeth extended as he chuckled wickedly and held onto her daughter tightly.
Harry didn’t like Heaven’s parents much. They always tried to take her away from him and he hated that. He hated that so much and it’s never good when Harry gets angry.
Maybe the reason why he couldn’t get to heaven was because he was possessed by a demon. When he was alive, he dabbled in the dark arts and sometimes went too far. Way too far, resulting in the possession and possibly his and his family’s murder.
The good part of Harry never wanted to be stuck on Earth, in this house. He wanted to be in heaven with his family. The evil part of Harry, a side that was a dark secret, wanted Heaven for himself and would stop at nothing to get her. Both sides of Harry were possessive of Heaven and that was not a good thing, at all.
“HEAVEN!” Her mother screams in panic and horror, making Harry disappear in a second with one last smirk and Heaven to jump in shock and fear. It only takes a moment for Heaven’s bottom lip to wobble and tears to flood her eyes as she hates loud noises, especially sudden yelling that she had no time to prepare for.
She sobs loudly, covering her ears and rubbing them as she shakes her head. Her mother notices her mistake and goes to comfort her, but the second she tries to step forward, Harry appears right in front of her. His eyes were dark as night and his rage filled face sent terror down her spine.
How dare she scare my angel? He thinks as thunder reverberates through the old home. As his anger grows, he begins sucking the energy from all the electrical units in the house, making himself stronger.
The lights flicker on and off wildly and suddenly, the room goes completely dark. The only sounds were Heaven’s small whimpers and her mother’s heavy, shaky breathing. In a second, lightning strikes outside and Harry’s normally kind and handsome but now terrifying face becomes illuminated.
“GET OUT,” he roars as he lifts his hand and Heaven’s mother flies out of the doorway and onto the hallway floor. The door slams shut behind her and all the lights flicker back on.
Heaven sits there curled up on the floor, her eyes blurry as she tries to calm herself down. Through her tear-filled vision, she sees Harry crouching down in front of her and collecting her in his arms, his face normal and calm again.
“Why you hurt mama, Harry? Why you hurt mama?” Heaven asks, gripping onto his shirt as he sighs and continues calming himself down.
“I didn’t hurt your mama, sweetheart. She just wanted to fly,” Harry comes up with a quick excuse and smiles as Heaven’s mouth forms an ‘o’ and she nods in understanding.
“Now, are those tears on your pretty face? What are they doing there?” Harry coos, wiping her tears with his thumbs.
“Don’t like loud noises, Harry! I don’t! I don’t, Harry! No loud noises,” she mumbles as he picks her up and starts for the bathroom.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. You’re okay now,” he sighs as he places her on the sink counter. “Wanna take your shower? Make you feel better,” She nods, holding her arms up for him innocently.
Harry’s eyes widen as he gulps lightly. “Okay…” He comments softly, grabbing the bottom of her shirt and helping her pull it over her head. The soft swell of her breasts and her tiny, pale pink nipples are the first thing he sees and if he could breathe, his probably would have stopped.
She isn’t wearing a bra, Harry swears in his head as he fights to control himself. Looking up, he sees she is out of it and gazing at the ceiling as she kicks her legs back and forth, not even caring she was half naked in front of him.
Harry coughs lightly and helps her out of her pajama pants and underwear next, careful not to catch a glimpse below her waist this time. He was a gentleman, not some creep wanting a peep show.
Collecting her in his arms, he helps her to the shower and starts the water. As soon as it’s the correct temperature, he opens the glass door and gives her bottom a little pat as she walks in.
“I’ll be right out here, angel,” he comments, making her nod as she becomes lost in a trance as she stares at the waterfall of droplets coming from the shower.
For a moment, Harry skims around Heaven’s bedroom and plays with the random objects he had no idea were possible.
Grabbing a small, black box, he furrows his eyebrows as he stares at it. Seeing a red button that said power underneath it, he presses it and jumps when the larger, box like object flashes on and starts blaring sound.
“Oh, bloody hell, they have actors stuck in boxes… At least they talk now,” he curses as he watches in shock at the moving, talking pictures.
Moving closer, he surveys the box and tries to look behind it, seeing just the wall. “How the hell?” He mumbles as he comes back to the front and taps it lightly.
“Hello? Can you hear me?” He calls as he tries to get the actors attention but to no avail. “Stupid,” he mumbles, pressing the red button again and turning the moving picture box off again.
Sighing as he becomes bored, he walks back into the bathroom to see if Heaven was finished. Seeing the glass fogged up and her humming a small tune, he walks closer and taps on the glass.
Seeing the fuzzy image of her turn, he uses his pointer finder and draws a heart against the fogged glass as he smiles.
“Harry,” she giggles as she puts her hand against the glass where his was placed.
“Love Harry,” she mumbles quietly after she places a kiss against the glass but Harry still hears it.
He could actually feel his nonexistent heartbeat stop and he slowly opens the shower door. She states at him, biting her lip innocently as she makes no move to cover herself. The steam of the shower billows around them as Harry begins to take off his clothes.
After he is naked, he takes a step into the shower as Heaven gasps lightly, backing up so he could have room. They stand there for a moment, the hot water trickling down their backs as they stare at each other in adoration.
“Harry loves Heaven,” he murmurs softly as he grabs her hand. Heaven smiles, joy filling her heart as she leans up and places her hand against the back of his neck. Standing on her tiptoes, she places her lips against his, like all the movies have shown her, as he stands there in surprise.
Addicted to the tingling shocks that spread through her at the feel of his soft lips, she does it a few more times as Harry finally snaps out of it and begins to kiss back.
Harry begins to laugh in glee as he wraps his arms around her. He had been alone and depressed all these years and suddenly he had a purpose; a purpose to stop looking for the light and stay with his one true love. He knew he never got to live his life to the fullest and now he could.
Coming to terms with this, he pulls back to place kisses all over her face. Heaven squeals and tries to fight him off the best she can as she becomes weak with laughter.
“I love you! I love you! I love you!” He whispers over and over as his kisses become less playful and more meaningful. His arms wrap around her tighter as he pulls her close and rests her head in the crook of his neck.
“Tell me how much you love me?” He feels his evil side begin to appear as it wants its own part on Heaven’s love. He gently strokes her hair as he lets his demon side come through and his eyes turn pitch black.
“Very much, Harry. Heaven love Harry very much,” she mumbles, clutching into his warm, muscular back as she revels in the only person she allows to touch her.
“Hmm, you do, do you? Would you do anything for me?” He hums as Heaven barely notices the change in character.
“Yes, everything. Would do everything for Harry. Heaven loves Harry. Harry nice to me. Not like mean boys at old school,” she begins to ramble and repeat her love for him but Harry shushes her lightly, calming her down and continues to stroke her hair.
“Everything?” He catches her slip up as he begins to smirk. She nods into his neck, her nails digging into his back a bit.
“Would you…. Would you die for me, Heaven?” He asks the question he’s been waiting to ask since he met her.
He feels her freeze as she comprehends his question. Her breathing is a bit shaky as she pulls back and stares into his eyes, his dark, inky eyes, without fear.
That one word is all Harry needed.
Hope you enjoyed! What did you think? If you want a part three please let me know! x -E
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
(I do not own this GIF)
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.
(Working on a couple of prompts, but this one just made an intrusion in my funny little head so I just had to write it.)
With the familiar walls of 221B finally taking shape, the construction almost over, Sherlock, with his newfound sentimentality emerging from his recent encounter with his sister, let the nostalgia of this place he call home consume him.
His eyes were fixed into oblivion, letting the silence of the place calm his senses. It was lost to him that John had arrived. A minute passed, then an hour, and still, some things never change.
He was too lost to even notice that John started to take notice of the drawer by the window, pieces slightly ajar due to the explosion. As usual, the doctor’s curiosity got ahead of him, seeing that the drawer Sherlock has always been cautious of is now available to plain sight.
And at a glance, the answers he seek are now right in front of him.
“Sherlock?” John mused, a grin spreading across his face.
The detective seemed to not have noticed.
John, still smiling, walked over to tap his friend on the shoulder.
“Hmmm…?” Sherlock replied, still very lull and lost in his relaxed trance. John tried to play it simple, forcefully trying to mask the smile off his face. “So… when are you planning to complete your scrapbook?”
Sherlock remained still for a moment, then suddenly blinked in confusion, finally realising that John was completely failing at his attempt of a straight face.
Seeing the expression on the detective’s face, John burst out laughing.
Sherlock’s eyes trailed from the drawer to his friend, then back again, trying to keep his composure. “You look like you’re having the time of your life.” he said, deadpan.
John walked over to the drawer once more, tapping the creaking hinge with his finger. “Now, you should have had this fixed before anything else.”
Sherlock sighed. “What for?”
“Well, seeing that you were so keen on keeping this a secret for… oh, I don’t know… the years have been a blur.” John mused, giving a comical shrug.
“How many times do I have to tell you…” Sherlock was about to explain but John shook his head, fingers already cracking the drawer open.
“Let’s see, plane tickets to –not just one– but quite a lot of countries, erm… didn’t know you were that fond of traveling; a card with ‘W’ on it… interesting; wilted rose petals… makes a statement; and… ah yes, a mobile phone that looks very familiar. Now, I don’t know about you, but there are quite a lot of features of interest in this one, Sherlock.” John quipped smugly, raising his eyebrows at his friend.
John walked over to his chair, sitting across the detective, obviously waiting for whatever excuse his friend has to offer. Sherlock’s eyes were flitting all over the room, avoiding John’s stare.
“Have you taken my advice yet?” the doctor asked sincerely, taking into account that Sherlock was at a loss.
“What advice?” Sherlock simply replied, still not looking at him.
“About phoning Irene Adler?“
Sherlock pinched the bridge of his nose. “As I told you before. People text, and yes, even I reply to her at times when…”
“I don’t understand why you keep pressing the matter.”
John rolled his eyes. “Oh, just tell me. Man to man. Friend to friend. Why don’t you just admit that Irene Adler is someone… special?”
He never liked vanilla. It was bland and boring to him, but he still appreciated the gesture. He already set his phone to silent, mainly to keep John from asking questions, but also to dismiss the urge to follow his advice and seek The Woman’s company.
Still, after parting ways with his friends and knowing he’s being monitored by Mrs. Hudson to avoid any other personal escapades, there’s a feeling of restriction and demise that he wanted off his chest.
And so, just like the many days and nights he felt that he is simple unattached to his typical cold and calculating self, he replied.
Went out with John and Molly. Had cake. SH.
He closed his eyes, silently cursing himself for the eagerness to get a reply. It was never the same with her. He could never quite tell, not a pattern to rely on.
When the text alert echoed across the room, he can’t help but smile.
Was it good? IA.
Sherlock’s fingers, almost in their own volition, typed swiftly.
I don’t like vanilla. SH.
And, as expected, her next reply sent him a wave of excitement.
I know. You told me last year. If you come and find me tonight, I’ll get you chocolate. IA.
“And did you? Find her, I mean?” John asked before correcting himself. “Of course, you did.”
Sherlock nodded. “Would you like to know what happened?”
John hesitated. “Ah… no. Probably best not to..” he coughed or choked, Sherlock couldn’t tell. “So, did you see each other again after… after what happened in Sherrinford?”
The detective took a moment to reply, his chest feeling lighter. There was something about the day he admitted to John that he did reply to The Woman, that made him realise and understand why the doctor always looked elated every time Mary, before her devastating death, was the center of a conversation.
“Yes. I… I felt like there was a need to see her. Eurus kept on asking things at my every visit.” Sherlock replied.
John shifted in his seat, interested in the new information, and much more surprised that Sherlock is actually opening up. “Things?”
“Who is was it about?” Eurus asked, her fingers stopping at a half-note.
Sherlock looked up, stopping the curve of his bow. “What is?”
Eurus tilted her head slightly, putting down the violin at her side. “You played a lovely tune when we first met. Who did you write it for?”
Sherlock rested his violin as well. “Why do you ask?”
His sister smiled. “You’re being guarded, I can tell.”
“You are. Your mood completely changed.” she mused as-a-matter-of-factly.
Sherlock paid attention back to his violin, adjusting the strings. Eurus continued to watch him.
“Oh, no… You are scared of how you feel. That piece translates too much passion and wanting, and you’re scared it might consume you. Tsk, tsk…”
He pretended not to hear and started to play again.
“I didn’t think there will be a day I will agree with any of your kin, but yeah… she summed it up quite nicely.” John teased.
Sherlock glared at him. “And so I asked her… Woman…” he continued.
John’s eyebrows knit. “Ask her what?”
“What she thought of the piece…” Sherlock breathed, sounding almost nervous.
John’s eyes widened in curiosity. “And?”
“Well?” Sherlock’s voice was almost too quiet, as if he meant to ask the question to himself more than to Irene.
Her position shifted from when he started playing, now looking soothed and allured, but expression still a lingering mystery as she simply looked at him. He still hasn’t revealed the piece was written for her, which added to the reasons of the undeniable thrumming in his chest.
And for what seemed like an eternity, Sherlock realised he was holding his breath until he saw her red lips curve to a smile.
“As if I could expect less from you… I take it that this was written at one of your… most vulnerable moments?” she asked, obviously amused.
“It would seem so.” he replied tensely.
Her smile grew slightly, eyes tender against the reflecting flame of the fireplace. “It sounded so – for a lack of a better term – human.”
“The person I wrote it for apparently made me realise I am so.” his words spilled almost involuntarily, blue eyes searching for anywhere else to look at but her.
His statement obviously piqued her interest, making her lean towards his direction, resting her chin on fingers, and eyebrows raising in question. “And who might that be?”
Realising there was no more room for inhibitions, his eyes met her as he said, “You.”
John could not hide his amusement.
“It’s not a big deal.”
The doctor stared at Sherlock, evident that he found the statement ridiculous. “Oh, it is. It really is. Everybody else sees it, Sherlock, everybody but you.”
“See what?” Sherlock replied, looking appalled.
John sighed. “That you… and Irene Adler…”
John exasperatingly looked at Sherlock in disbelief. “You are obviously in love with her!”
“I. Am. Not.” Sherlock pressed on. But before John could even protest, he continued. “Love is too easy. Too simple.”
“And keeping wilted roses in a drawer has a very complex explanation, does it?!” John exclaimed.
“Oh for God’s sake…” Sherlock cussed to himself. “The Woman and I don’t work that way.”
John shook his head. “You’re forgetting one thing, mate. You said it yourself.”
Sherlock looked at John as if the doctor was making no sense at all, but John simply smiled knowingly and said, “You’re also human.”
I wasn’t used to this…being completely helpless under this pile of ruin and once, melancholy castle….how did I get so low. Where did I go wrong? How could I make this right? Suddenly a light came my way. It was so blinding. I kept looking, it was so mesmerizing. Suddenly I saw the silhouette of a woman came into being. She looked familiar. It was an enchantress. Bright and beautiful.
“I once gave one man the chance to change” She began, though I didn’t know who she spoke of then it dawned on me. It was the Beast “So, therefore, I’m giving you the chance to as well, although, your sentence will be to make amends”
“Amends to who?” I asked wondering who she meant.
“That’s for you to find out” she says as she suddenly vanishes.
Well, when she left I was perplexed. I called out to my friend, LeFou when suddenly I thought, “where’s Lefou” then remembered that I shoved him in front of the piano. Oh God, what have I done! I need to apologize to him. I know it seems like I don’t care about anyone but I really do care for him. How was I gonna make this up to him? Then I thought even more. Maurice, I do need to apologize to him as well. I fucked up. I couldn’t believe what I did. How could I have been so cruel to everyone? Why would I do this? It now dawned on me that I needed to also apologize to the Beast who I also tried to kill. One last person though Belle…I need to apologize to these people who I hurt so much. So I made my venture to the castle gates. Upon entry, I caught eyes with a man called Cogsworth. I asked if I could speak with the king and queen and he led me to their throne room. Once I got in there, I noticed their cold stares…not like I could blame them. I’ve messed up.
“Belle, o, or queen Belle I should say, I wish to confess my apologies and mistakes…I know what I did is messed up, I Know that I’ve hurt you both in many ways and, I know a sorry isn’t enough, what can I do to show that I’m sorry” I say as I begin shaking a bit. Suddenly, the king spoke. I believe his name is Adam…
“Gaston, is it?” He asked and I nodded yes for the response. He began to speak again “you are vain, cruel, some would even call selfish, would they”
The more I thought of those words the more I realized he was right about me.
“Yes and I just, I want to change, I really do, ” I said, “How can I show you this?”
“Well, it’s certainly brave of you to come here and show that you’re sorry” Belle says “For starters, you’ll learn how to compliment others instead of yourself all the time…secondly, you go apologize to my father who you tied to a tree”
“Also, you will stay here, in the castle. For I was once like you, if I can change, so can you, you just need to believe you can and others will believe too”
“T-thank you” I said as I bowed down to them and tried to go and find Maurice. And as I left the room, I actually felt a sense that I could actually change. And I bumped into a man, a man who was holding an art easel. Needless to say I helped him pick it up. As I was picking it up and handing it to him, I saw it was Maurice… Yeah, he looked angry. Not like I can blame him. He looked stoic for a solid 10 seconds before he finally spoke.
“Gaston..you’re alive?” He asked
“Ye, yes…can you talk?” I asked “I really do want to make amends with you,” I said as he agreed to speak and he went to a more quiet place in the garden.
“What do you wish to say?” He asked
“I wish to apologize…I wish to not be like how I was in the little village and I know my apology doesn’t seem like much, but I really am sorry”
“Then show me,” he said after some time of silence. “You will work for me, I need some help you know?”
“I’ll do it.” I said “I will work for you, and earn your trust back…but right now, there’s one person who I need to earn the trust back most of all…it’s LeFou.” I paused “Do you know where he is?”
“I believe he’s in the east wing talking to Lumiere,” he says
“Thank you Maurice, thank you for believing in me,” I said as I go to run off to the East wing. Right as I got into the castle I saw him. He looked happy. How could I possibly ruin that. I began turning around, right as I was about to, I locked eyes with him. I walk inside the tower, trembling a bit. Right as he comes up to me, and I him, I feel something for him that I’ve never felt before…sorrow. Sorrow for all the hurt that I caused him.
“G, Gaston?” he asks as we looked at each other. “I thought you were dead”
“I thought so too….but nevermind that. LeFou, I am so so sorry, to you I’m the most sorry…I did unspeakable things to you, I hurt you, I understand if you never want to speak with me again, I really do”
“Hey, hey I’m always gonna be your friend, but there’s things, no more like words I need to have with you,” he says to me.
“I understand that, I’d love to do it right now, I just want your forgiveness, not because I deserve it…but because you want to,” I said to him.
“Of course, maybe we can go to my room on the first floor,” He said to me as he guided me there. As we got to his bedroom, I began getting a bit nervous thinking what he might say but knowing that it ultimately was best for him. We got in there, in his room. It looked very Lefouish not to say the least…a pride tapestry on his wall, a picture of his favorite singer, Madame Garderobe! I was so lost in a trance by this guy…this amazing guy.
“Some tea?” he asked as I was in my trance.
“Wh, what?” I asked…”Oh, um no thanks, maybe later though” I saw a glimmer of hurt in his eyes and I saw him cry. “LeFou, i, I’m so so sorry, just let it all out,” I say as i sit there holding him.
“I thought you were dead…I honestly didn’t think you’d be alive” he paused to catch his breath. “God, why Gaston, why are you so so vain, why did you make me tell that terrible lie for you? And for what? To get a girl you know isn’t into you…why couldn’t you, why couldn’t you love me!?” he said and i looked at him, feeling terrible. “Why couldn’t you be soft and gentle? Why did you never praise me?” he paused again. “And how dare you, just leave me there under the piano, do you know how betrayed you made me feel?”
“I’m so sorry, I know that means nothing though, I’ll never do that to you again, I promise, just let me be your yes man…let me just hold you up.” I paused, tearing up seeing how much I hurt him, feeling dreadful. “And to answer your question about my vainess, I let everyone’s praise get to me…I didn’t pace myself…it’s no one’s fault but my own. And from now on, I’m committed to helping you, to being your yes man, I know that it must have hurt you for me to turn on you in such awful ways, what can I do to make it up to you?” I asked, just wanting his pain to stop. “I really actually, don’t have an excuse for my behavior, but I’m committed to bettering myself. You know, Maurice offered me an assisting job, I even talked to Belle and Adam, the beast is going to impart his lessons on me, I guess.” I stopped and looked up and saw him smile. “I just want you to be happy and not with me, but for you”
“Gaston?” he said, unsure. “How do I know you’re being sincere?”
“You’ll know I’m sincere by my actions, by how I choose to be…I’m even gonna ask them to not put mirrors in my room to help that,” I say as we laugh a bit.
“Good, cause when ya looked into those mirrors, that was so um odd!” He added. “But anyway, we always have dinner every night, would you like to join me?” He asked happily.
“I’d love that,” I said. “Now, I hate to ask you this, but can you give me a tour guide to my room?” i asked hesitantly.
“Of course I will” and um “Gaston?” he said pausing…”I’m glad you’re not dead”
(Okay guys…that’s chapter one. Tell me what you think?. Chapter two to come shortly…it’ll be called “developed feelings”)
A/N: I am soo sorry this took so long! I was literally dragging it out. B/S/O to @nothin-after-79 for helping me proof read it before posting it! Love her so much! Please leave me your feed back and let me know what you think! Please also like and share! Enjoy! :)
I woke up with a start. My palms were sweaty and my knees were shaking. Terror coursing through my entire body as I visualized of what I just saw in my dream. My mother and my baby sister, lying on the floor covered in blood. I’m just standing over them. Tears streaming down my face as I watched my whole world shatter before my eyes. Watching them beg for mercy as the stranger has his go at them. I can’t do anything, as much as I try to, no one sees me. I call out to them as they continue to scream for help as I beg him to take me instead. The way my sister looked at me with her deep blue eyes for the last time is a look I will never forget. It will be a reminder burned into my brain of what I lost. Of what I can never have. To hold her in my arms again. To see her little body lying on the floor, lifeless, covered in blood, and her hand intertwined with my mom’s. It was all too much.
Nevaeh’s last scream ripped through my soul. I screamed out for her, trying to shelter her body from anymore harm. My baby sister, she’s gone. The woman who raised me, the one who I ran to for comfort, the one who I never thought would leave me, is gone. Then my body starts to fade, everything goes blurry, and I’m not there anymore.
“Hey! Hey! Y/n! Wake up! It’s just a dream!” Sam shakes me violently, until my body responds. I gasp for air, as I ran a hand over my sweat covered face. I was shaking like a madwoman, trying to grasp a hold on reality. Once I’m fully aware, I take in my surroundings. Remembering that I’m in my room at the bunker. My eyes meet his and I just break down. My eyes burning with hot tears, and my throat closes up as I try to let out a sob stuck in my throat. Sam consoles me and holds me in his arms for a few minutes. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My breaths coming out harsh and shallow.
Once my breaths even out, I look at Sam. His eyes looked glassy, as if tears were in his eyes. “I’m here, Y/n. Don’t worry, it was just a dream.” Sam kisses my forehead and lays my head on his chest. The soothing beat of his heart helps me relax. I wipe my tear filled eyes and pulled away to look at the clock. 3:45 A.M. My heart plummeted. Realizing, that I probably woke him up.
“Sam, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. You need your sleep, especially with the case tomorrow.” I said, trying not to make eye contact since I felt so guilty. “It’s fine y/n/n. That’s what big brothers are for. Do you want me to stay with you? Would that help you feel better?” I shook my head no. “No, you need your sleep. I’ll be fine. I feel a lot better now. Besides, this is a twin bed and it wouldn’t allow us to stretch out. You go, I’ll be fine. It was just a bad dream” I assured him. Myself probably more than him. He looked at me with a not convinced at all expression.
“Sam, I’ll be fine. I promise.” I told him, not even believing myself. That didn’t matter though, only as long as he believed it. “Do you want to talk about it?” concern still etched across his face. I shook my head no again. “I don’t even want to think about it honestly. I’m just going to try and go back to sleep and forget about it.” I pulled the covers back over me and Sam got back up, and watched me.
“Goodnight Sam. Again, I’m sorry for waking you.” He leaned down and gave me a hug. “Anytime, Y/n. If you ever need anyone to talk to we’re always here. Only a room away.” He walked to the door and opened it. Before he shut it, he turned off my light and told me “Goodnight”. I turned on my side and tried to calm myself before I shut my eyes, but every time I closed them, all I saw were their faces covered in blood. I reached out for Nevaeh’s pink blanket on my nightstand and held it close to me. The fabric catching all my tears.
My nightmares are getting worse. Every night I dreamed about them. Occasionally, I dreamed about Sam and Dean biting the bullet for me. It tore me apart from the inside out. I’m so afraid the same thing is going to happen with the boys. If it does, I don’t know what I’ll do. They are already like my family. They are the only people I have left besides Carter and Cas. I promised myself I would try to protect them at all costs. Even if that meant leaving the bunker, if the thing that killed my family progresses on towards us. They were too good of men to die in such a terrible way. I won’t let that happen.
Around seven, I decided to get up. I slept only for an hour total after that God awful nightmare. I made myself a bowl of cereal and sat down at the counter. My gaze is set dead ahead, as my mind wonders off. I try to focus on the case that Sam, Dean, and I are going on today. Cas took Carter with him, so the bunker would be empty while we are gone. I was so lost in my trance, I didn’t hear Sam sneak up behind me. He tapped my shoulder and I jumped, almost choking on the spoonful of cereal I just shoved into my mouth.
“You men and scaring people! I swear! Can’t you give a woman a break!” I half yelled. Sam put his hands up, meaning he means no harm. A smirk lingered on his face. “I just wanted to ask you if you got anymore sleep last night after that? I didn’t meant to startle you. It looks like you’re a bit on edge this morning. Do you still want to go on the case?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I slept like a baby. I’m just a little irritable today. Of course I want to go on the case.” I said, as I took a sip of coffee. Sam dropped the subject. He must of known I wasn’t going to say anything else about it, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop worrying.
“Ok, so this case we are going on involves 3 guys who mysteriously died by drowning. Which I happened to find out that all three of them have something in common. They were all married and had kids. The drive is about 2 hours from here so it’s not to far. Dean said he would be back after filling up the impala. Then we will leave. I also got you your fake FBI badge” He handed it to me, and I took it.
“Scarlett Underwood.” Hmm. “Let me guess, Carrie Underwood and Scarlett Johansson.” I raised my eyebrow, and waited for his response. “Hey, at least It’s not Agent Beyonce!” We both laughed, I remembered the boys telling me all about the celebrity names Cas uses. It always ended up being a female pop singer.
“Thank you, Sam. I’m going to go get ready. Be back here soon.” I walked to my room and grabbed my makeup bag. I went to the bathroom and put some on and straightened my hair. 30 minutes later, I went back to my room. I looked in my closet at all the professional outfits I had. I refused to wear heels just in case something happens to where I have to run. Plus, I can’t stand being in them for too long because my feet really hurt. I decided to wear some dark gray slacks, a dressy black tank top with ruffles at the front, and a dark gray blazer to match the pants. I picked a comfy pair of black dress shoes and grabbed my black handbag, then I headed towards the kitchen.
As I entered, I heard Dean whistle. I looked over at him and smiled as he acted like he was checking me out. He took his coffee and then said “You sure do look purrty!” in a southern accent. I giggled and thanked him as he handed me a drink. “So you ready kiddo? It’s the big day? You nervous?” I took a sip of the coffee he handed me and replied back. “Pretending to be an FBI agent and hoping a whole bunch of cops don’t arrest me, this isn’t nerve racking at all!” I said sarcastically, while Dean chuckled.
“Just take it easy, once you do it enough it will become natural to you. Besides, you got it down pat.” He gave me an encouraging smile, and patted me on the back. “You guys ready to go?” Sam asked, carrying his bag to the garage. We both nodded and followed along. I sat in the back seat and rehearsed my lines in my head.
When we got to the house of the first dead husband, Sam and Dean gave me one last pep talk before we went in. I had my lines down pat and I felt confident. I shut the door to the impala and started follow Sam across the street. I looked both ways before I crossed. I saw a tall figure in the distance looking at me. He had messy black hair and a scruffy looking beard. He looked like he was in his early 50’s at best. I didn’t realize how long I was staring at him until Sam called my name and made a hand motion for me to follow.
The shadowed figure smirked at me before I turned to catch up with the boys. Once I was at the door, Dean asked me what I was looking at. I turned and pointed to the man I had saw, but he was gone. Sam gave me a concerned look. I just shook my head and told them it must of been all the coffee I had this morning.
I watched Sam and Dean go to work on Interrogating the woman. I stayed back and observed, wanting to watch them in action before I stepped in. I walked around the victorian styled home to study the pictures hanging on the wall by the staircase and saw all their memories. They had a little girl who was no older 7. She reminded me of Nevaeh with her beautiful, long hair. It almost brought tears to my eyes until I heard Dean call out for me.
“Agent Underwood, is there any more questions you would like to ask?” Dean asked, giving me a look. “Mrs. Hathaway, did you notice anything out of the ordinary about your husband up to the day of his death?” I asked, sympathetically.
“What do you mean out of the ordinary?” She questioned.
“Like, was he acting different towards you? Was his behavior the same? Did his relationship change any with his daughter? Also, do you know if he had any enemies?”
“Heavens, no! George wouldn’t hurt a fly! I wouldn’t know who would want him dead. Everyone loved him!” tears started falling down her cheeks, and she looked at the window.
“He did complain of being cold a lot, and he was jumpy his last few days. I just thought it was because of the job interview he was going on. So, I just blew it off. That was probably so stupid of me.” She revealed, as she let out a sniffle.
“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Hathaway. Again, I am so sorry for your loss.” She gave me a hug before she led us to the door. “Hmm, cold spots and jumpy behavior before he died. Sounds like we got a vengeful ghost here.” Dean said, as we walked back to the car. “That’s what it appears to be, but now we just got to find out who and why before it kills anymore people. What do you think, Y/n/n?” Sam inquired, as both boys focused on you.
You were looking at an old journal you found on the floor in the backseat. It appeared to be worn down and the binding just looked awful. You opened it gently and your eyes roamed over the pages as they stopped at the name “John Winchester”.
“That’s dad’s hunting journal. He used to take that thing everywhere. You can look at it, if you want. It talks about almost every hunt he’s been on. It was very useful to Sam and I when we started hunting together by ourselves.” Dean smiled.
I thanked him and continued to look through it. Seeing all what was in it. After I passed the part about wendigo’s, a picture fell out. It was Sam, Dean, and John. They were all younger and the boys looked like they were in high school. John was smiling in the picture, but his smile didn’t meet his eyes. Dean looked liked he won the lottery in this and Sam just looked like he was upset.
“Did you guys ever get along with Dad?” my eyes averted from the picture to the back of their heads. Waiting for their responses. They both paused and thought for a moment. Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times. Trying to come up with a response. Sam beat him to the punch.
“Not really. He was just so absorbed in finding the yellow eyed demon that killed our mom, that he never made time for us. Sure, he dragged us along almost to everywhere he went, but he was more like a drill sergeant than a dad. Dad and I never really saw eye to eye since are both very stubborn.” Sam said, still looking straight ahead.
“Bobby was more like a dad to us than anyone. You would of loved him. A great hunter, awesome guy, and he knew just about everything with the lore. He was there for us a lot. I don’t know what we would of done without him.” Dean gives a sad smile. I could tell he missed him a lot.
Time flew after we went to the morgue and interviewed the other families. Sam and Dean were certain it was a ghost seeking vengeance. After I pulled an all nighter for research, we had a suspect. His name was Zachary Turk. He died 14 years ago when 4 teenage boys decided to go out for a drive after hitting a kegger. They accidently ran his car into a river and he drowned. The guys involved in the accident never told a soul about it, and promised to never speak of it again. Zach had an 8 year old girl at the time and a loving wife. I could see how he wanted to show the men the pain of being ripped away from their loved ones. All of the victims deaths dealt with water.
We saved the last guy on the hit list before he drowned. It involved me jumping in after him while Sam and Dean went and burned a painting of the guy. As I got the guy to the dock and helped him out, I felt myself being dragged under. I kicked myself out the spirits grip, but he was almost to strong for me. I fought my hardest, trying to get away, but it seemed like nothing was working. When I thought my lungs would give out from lack of oxygen, I saw the same figure as I did earlier near Mrs. Hathaway’s house. He helped me get out of it’s gripped and I finally reached the surface. I gasped for air and looked around.
“Y/N! Y/N Winchester! Where are you!” I heard Dean yelling frantically.
“Dean! Sam! I’m over here!” I bellowed. Dean caught my eye and jumped in after me, he swam towards me and pulled me in his arms. Holding me tightly, we swam back to the deck. Sam was waiting for us there and helped pull us up.
“You ok, Y/n?” Dean asked out of breath
“I’m fine, thank you for jumping in. It got ahold of my ankle and I think I sprained it. Did you get the remains?” I asked, as Sam helped me up.
“It’s over. You did great, kiddo! Your first case was a success.” He flashed me a big smile. I smiled back at him as he helped me in the backseat of the car.
“We will be right back. Dean and I just have to talk to this guy than we can head back to the motel. You get first dibs on shower, since you earned it.” he shut the door and walked back over to Dean.
I laid my head back on the headrest. Thanking God that everything turned out to be a success. My mind still wandered off to the stranger who helped me today, wondering who it was. Then I remembered something. I reached down and grabbed my father’s journal and looked at the picture. How could it be?
“So you figured it out, huh?” John smiled, as he was sitting next to me in the backseat. I was shocked to see my father sitting here beside. I was speechless.
“How? H- What?” I mumbled, trying to put the pieces together.
“I needed to tell you that I’m proud of you. For sticking it out with your brothers, and for not giving up when times got hard for you. I know I was not a good father, but I hope that won’t hurt yours and your brothers relationship. I love you, Y/n. I’m so sorry, for everything.” before I knew it, he was gone in a blink of an eye. I snapped back into reality as Sam and Dean got back into the car.
“So are you ready for a celebration with burgers and Netflix back at the motel?” Dean smiled as he buckled. I nodded, looking down at the picture in my hand of my father. Letting some of the anger go that I had towards him, as I lost myself in thought on the drive back.
A/N: wowwie, i read a fic last night and got inspired. For @nhasablog because her fics are like really fucking good, I’m jealous??? Like she’s the reason I’m still writing and didn’t give up?? N, if you see this, thanks for being my inspiration <3
Word Count: 1894
Pair: Sherlock & John
Touch. Sherlock wasn’t much of a..touch person. He prefered silent solitude, the lone wolf. Of course, that was until he met John, who was surprisingly very touchy. There were many occasions Sherlock would swat John’s hands away or gently push him away from him.
“Damn it, John.” Sherlock mumbled, looking down at the sleeping man cuddled into his side.
Sherlock just sat there, a look of utter defeat on his face, what was he supposed to do? He just swiftly got up, leaving the man to fall into the couch cushion, awoken by the sudden fall.
“Did I do it again?” He asked hazily.
“Yup.” Sherlock replied, putting on his coat and exiting the flat.
But, over the years Sherlock has gotten more comfortable with John, allowing small hugs here and there. Little did John know that he actually LOVED being touched, he craved it, Sherlock never got enough of affection. But, how do…oh how do simplistic humans say it, as Sherlock would say. ‘Express feelings and exploit their weaknesses.’ John always snorted, and said that maybe deep down Sherlock liked being touched, and he would always deny it. He’s Sherlock freaking Holmes, if people found out he liked being cuddled and all that puny stuff? He would be considered a laughing stock!
A/N: OKAY I did not anticipate to get such a positive response from this story. At all. But, I’m super thrilled it did, so we continue! @sassygeek77 I believe you wanted to be tagged, and if anyone else does, let me know.
“Reid, what the fuck?” Morgan exclaimed.
Lost in a trance, it took me a second to realize someone had entered the room. When I realized, I jumped.
“What exactly are you doing?” Rossi puzzled.
“Nothing.” I quickly replied.
“Nothing? Didn’t look like ‘nothing’. It looked like you were getting freaky with a map.” JJ said.
“YOU KNOW WHAT? JUST BECAUSE WE WENT ON A DATE LIKE LIKE TWENTY YEARS AGO DOESN’T MEAN I’M ONLY ATTRACTED TO WOMEN, JJ!” I exploded.
Everyone’s jaws dropped. Everything was silent for about a whole minute, until Rossi finally spoke, “Okay, let’s pretend like that didn’t happen. Deep breaths. Let’s start over. Now Reid did you manage to locate where the unsu-
“NO,” I roared. “YOU WON’T MAKE ME HURT HER AGAIN.”
“Reid, calm down.” Emily said quietly, yet sternly.
“How am I supposed to calm down when none of you will accept me?!” I yelled.
Hotch broke in, “Reid listen-
“No, you listen to me, you Muppet looking bitch,” I snapped. “I’ve had enough of your shit, taking orders from you, making me destroy beautiful things. I will not stand for this.”
“What are you saying, Reid?” Hotch asked carefully.
“What am I saying? I quit. Bye forever, you Beaker-looking bitch.” I stormed out of the precinct, with Map in hand, holding her so gently.
Everyone chased after me.
JJ hollered, “Reid, you can’t just leave, you need your two week’s noti-
“TWO WEEKS NOTICE MY ASS,” I screamed. “DID MAP GET A TWO WEEKS NOTICE AS TO WHEN WE WOULD VIOLATE HER? NO SHE DIDN’T BLONDIE.”
With that, I rushed out the door, Map still in hand. They continued to chase after me. I picked up my pace, running to the parking lot with the SUV’s. I had maintained a decent lead from them, but I still had to go as fast as possible. I could never drive, not for anyone, except for Map, and that one hunky Latino guy I once dreamed about.
Quickly, I pulled the keys out of my pocket. I opened the door, taking my time to sit down Map in the passenger seat and securely buckle her. As I got in. the team had made it outside. Frantically, I began to pull out of the lot, rear ending some of the cars. I began to speed, and as I looked in the rear-view mirror and noticed they were entering their cars. I stepped on the gas.
No one would take this special moment away from me. No one.
“Well?? When is he going to have this discussion with me?” my father asks for the billionth time. Biting my nails, I pace around my room and try to brainstorm some excuse in between ‘uhs’ and ‘ums’. “And don’t tell me he’s busy.”
“Dad…” I plea for his mercy.
Perched comfortably at the foot of my bed, like the cute little fluffy potato he is, JunMeow blinks and listens intently to my conversation after witnessing my hair pulling and silent grunts. His toys sprawl all over the mattress; he plays with the bright lattice ball with his tiny paws so that the jingle of the bell rings as background music.
“Honey…” my mother’s voice sighs after my father passed off the phone.
I stop in my tracks and chew my lower lip. That tone of voice is only ever used when she’s heavily disappointed in me. Naturally, I take a seat on my bed. JunMeow climbs onto my lap and tilts his head up as if asking, “What’s wrong?“. I stroke his fur as I await my mother’s words. Tears already gloss over my eyes.
“Meow…?” the kitty meeps but I hold a finger to my lip.
“It’s your father’s birthday soon…do you want him to be stressed and unhappy even then?” she guilt-trips.
My lips flatten to prevent myself from bursting into tears. Sensing my impending breakdown, JunMeow nestles himself closer and wiggles his body, so that his fur tickles my skin. I almost let out a giggle.
“Bring your husband to your father’s birthday dinner,” the older female instructs.
“No ‘buts’!” she cuts me off and hangs up.
Groaning, I fall back against the bed with the cat still against my abdomen. “Argh, what am I going to do?!” I whimper into my palms. Junmeow walks up my torso and chest. “Ooow…” I complain but he quiets me with his gentle pats of my head. My face of aggravation cracks into a small smile. But I won’t admit it. I don’t like cats…
“What use are you, you smelly little butt?” I pout and play with his two front paws. “You can’t pretend to be my husband like Kim Junmyeon can…” I sigh.
“Meow~” the majestic feline trudges back down my chest and starts to knead my tummy.
Running my fingers through my hair, I ponder out loud, “Where is he?” It’s been two weeks. “He said he would come back…” and he needs to come back soon…
With a grunt, I fetch a mouse toy from under my head. It’s wet with saliva. “Eww,” I comment and lightly smack my cat’s bum. He stops his kneading and comes up to play with me. I place the toy on the top of his head, causing him to go crossed eye, and eventually falling backward against my abdomen. Laughing, I straighten up and attack him with tickles on his exposed belly. Elated purrs vibrate into my ears; he marks his human with gentle love bites.
What am I doing. No I don’t love this cat.
I lean over and kiss him on his pink nose.
“Meow~ =＾♥ ⋏ ♥ ＾=,” JunMeow gazes up at me with lovestruck eyes and a moment of de ja vu hits me. I swear I’ve seen those unique shining orbs before.
Shaking away the unexpected feeling, I poke his tummy and ask, “You hungry?”
“Meow!” my cat chirps, his adorable paws roll against his cheeks…and it’s just so cu—
“Come on, let’s fatten you up,” I say. Tossing my legs over the bed, I pick JunMeow up and head to the kitchen. “Man…you’re leaving your toys everywhere; clean up after yourself, will ya,” I playfully scold.
It’s today. My father’s birthday dinner is in two hours and he’s expecting his son-in-law’s presence. But said son-in-law is nowhere in sight. Habitually, I pace around the room like a lost kitten. Nail biting, hair clawing, staccato breaths. I’m already dressed in an off-the-shoulder maroon chiffon dress as if I’m really daring to arrive without my male companion.
“Meow?” my cat tilts his head and lets his gaze follow me around the room. The black suit and tie on my bed remains unclaimed for another thirty minutes.
I skid to a stop. My head lifts up. “Should I just tell the truth?” I ask in a defeated tone. Guilt sinks into the pit of my stomach.
“I shouldn’t have lied in the first place…” I sadly conclude as I look into my cat’s pearly eyes. “How am I going to explain having a naked man on my bed?” my lips ripple at the thought of the disappointment on my parents faces.
My phone buzzes. With my head low and ashamed, I swipe the screen and slowly bring the device up to my ear. JunMeow dashes away, abandoning me to do this unfortunate call by myself.
“Hi Dad…Happy Birthday…” I start.
Sprinting into the bathroom, JunMeow back kicks the door shut and uses the force of both paws to turn the bathtub faucet on. His soft pads slip and slide but he is adamant about completing his mission. At last, success, water starts to spray down from the shower head. The majestic creature tilts his head up and does the unthinkable by surrendering himself to a bath. Cats hate baths - well, most of them and JunMeow is not an exception. But for today, he’d brave it out…Splatter, splatter, splatter. His fur coat glows in silvery sheen. Splatter, splatter, splatter. He allows water to soak into his pores.
“…I have a confession to make…” I bite my lip and say, “Kim Junmyeon isn’t who you think he is…he’s not my hus—“
The bathroom door swings open with dramatic force. I whip my head around to face Kim Junmyeon. Streams of liquid rush down the contours of his bare body. A bath towel ties around his hip. My eyes widen and I almost drop my phone. Gulping, I grab hold on the sofa arm to aid my wobbling legs.
“He is not what?” my father snaps on the other end of the call.
Light-headed and bewildered at the sudden turn of events, I fail to form words from my lips. My eyes tail Junmyeon as he advances toward me. If he was handsome before, he’s Godly in this moment. His wet hair makes parts of my body perk alive. Water trails down his jawline, collecting at his chin and it takes the control of my entire being not to eat him up then and there…because the thirst is real. Inches from me, he retrieves the phone from my hands.