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since0202 · 2 years

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Taking Time—Fifty

The only living girl in New York

Word count: 11,004

September

October

November

December

January

Maya clutched the slender champagne glass in her right hand and took a tentative sip as she glanced around the expansive room dotted with industry and academics alike. She let out a sigh through her nose and glanced around again, feeling wholly overwhelmed in this sea of experts and very much feeling like an imposter when a gentle hand rested on the middle of her back.

She glanced up and smiled at the tall, solid figure next to her.

“Ready to wow them?” he said conspiratorially. Maya gave her best smile and nodded.

“Ready.” He guided her through the throng of people toward a group of important looking city suits. Maya braced herself, pasting that brilliant smile on her face and smoothed out the skirt of her short white dress that flared out around her coppery warm thighs.

“Arden!” One of the suits pronounced as they approached. “Good to see you!”

“Good to see you,” Arden nodded, his older handsome features pulled into a smile. He glanced down at Maya reassuringly and she had to catch her breath for a moment. That warm reassuring hand shifted a little on her back: “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

The three suits now laser focused in on Maya and she steeled herself. Shoulders back, head high, warm smile. Look approachable, but not too stiff. Confident, but not too overly full of yourself. That hand disappeared from the middle of her back as Arden now said:

“This is my second year student, Maya Sunriviere,” he always emphasized her last name with some French twist. It made Maya shift a bit uncomfortably, like she was some sort of fraud. “Maya specializes in sustainable biomechanics that will help improve the green building practices in more rural and indigenous areas. It’s groundbreaking stuff what Collins is teaching these kids and Maya is going to help put it on the map,” Arden shot her a warm look which Maya returned before she turned her attention back to the suits.

One raised his scotch glass somewhat before he said, “Great stuff.” He was less than impressed but polite nonetheless. Maya gave him her most charming smile and nodded. As she opened her mouth though to pitch, he interrupted her, “Not much of that needed on this coast though, is there? Seems like that’s mostly western go-green propaganda,” he turned to his other suits who chuckled a bit alongside him. Maya pursed her lips, and shifted on her nude heel.

“Yeah, remember when Remy pitched the green garden effect to Trump tower people? Total disaster,” the other suit scoffed. Maya glanced with alarmed eyes at Arden. He was watching the three men before him with an unreadable look on his face.

“Actually, I—” Maya tried to butt in, but there was a guffaw from the third suit as he said:

“They ran the numbers on that thing, did I tell you? Wouldn’t have even scratched the surface of what they’d need to get those green energy credits to offset the property tax. Total waste of concept development and manpower, in my opinion.”

Arden glanced at Maya, his face urgent as he nodded toward the group of men who were devolving further into laughter and swapping stories of other failed projects poised as ingenious to their development firms. Maya swallowed hard, suddenly feeling ridiculous in her white poofy sleeved Givenchy baby-doll dress. She should have worn pants, and done a sharp cat eye to look formidable. Instead she felt kind of like a chic cupcake, at least that’s what the lady in the store said the other day.

“Oh, Arden, I forgot to ask the other day, did you get those blueprints greenlit from legal?” The original suit who had interrupted her swiftly changed the subject and Maya felt boxed out.

She wrapped her other hand around her champagne glass and grimaced, taking a sip as she waited for Ardent to speak. He glanced down at her one last time as if trying to give her one last opening before carrying on with the suits.

Twenty minutes later, Maya leaned against the bar and caught the eye of the young blonde bartender.

“Whiskey, neat, splash of water,” Maya grumbled.

“Yeesh,” Noah said, leaning against the bartop and taking a swig of his Modelo. “That looked like it went…”

“I fucking blew it,” Maya groaned as the bartender slipped the short glass a whiskey across to her with a sympathetic smile. Maya gave her an apologetic grin and spun to look out across the room. “I feel like a fucking idiot.”

“Nah,” Noah said, drawing out the sound of his dissent. “It’s probably fine. Professor Arden will smooth things over. You’ll get another shot.”

“I look like an idiot, I feel like an idiot,” Maya knocked back more whiskey than she meant to and grimaced. “Egh.”

“Jesus, slow down cowgirl,” Noah took another sip and laughed at her a little. Maya couldn’t help the smile that quirked on her lip in response. “You’ll get another shot. Don’t worry,” he said reassuringly. Maya didn’t answer.

“Did you get to talk to those guys from Horton and Sons?” Maya asked. Noah just nodded, scanning his eyes across the crowd of people. “And?” Maya prompted.

“I’m a shoe-in. Obviously,” he threw his head back, his hair swishing back in an unapologetically endearing way and Maya rolled her eyes as she smiled over her whiskey glass.

“Obviously,” she echoed. She looked back to the crowd, but could still feel Noah’s eyes on her. He did that sometimes—just watched her like he was trying to figure her out or something. Or maybe he just thought she was hot. Whatever it was, Maya couldn’t say that it bothered her all too much. It had been awhile since she’d hung out with someone who didn’t seem to think they knew everything about her.

“Let’s get out of here. You’re done, right?” Noah offered, setting his half finished beer down. “We can go swing by and pick up Beez and head to Carter’s or that one bar you like where we had pasta at like 2 a.m.” Maya was watching Arden laugh and talk to the suits. She’d let him down, she knew that, and she wasn’t used to failing so publicly.

“No, I should probably stay in case Arden wants me to glad hand, right?” Maya asked uncertainly. This was her first industry event outside of the conference she went to in November. But she had volunteered and spent most of the time running drinks and getting people checked in to the event, rather than making connections.

“Absolutely not,” Noah said. This wasn’t Noah’s first industry event by any means. He was a year ahead of Maya, a third year, and he’d been to dozens of these things at this point and secured internships over the past two years in which to get his foot in the door. “This thing is going to be over in like twenty minutes tops. These guys roll the party into strip clubs and bars on the west end to really get hammered. The gladhanding is basically done. Unless…” Noah paused and Maya shot him a look.

“Unless what?” she raised an eyebrow at him and downed the rest of her whiskey, reveling in the burn.

“Unless you’re…you know…getting picked up,” Noah said with an eye roll. Maya let out a small laugh and set her glass down on the bartop before digging into pockets of her dress for her phone.

“Obviously,” Maya mocked. She typed a quick message and saw the three dots pop up quickly in response. “Alright, let’s go,” Maya said, clearing some notifications she was putting off and smiling up at Noah.

“Yesss!” he exclaimed, throwing his arm over her shoulder and pulling her toward the elevator that would lead them down to the lobby. Maya glanced at Arden as she went and he shot her a reassuring smile. She tried to swallow the thick lump in her throat.

When they exited the lavish art building and hurried down the stone steps, they were greeted with sleek black Aston Martin. The blacked out passenger window rolled down and jazz music poured from the interior.

Maya ducked down and gave a hearty wave. Naoh was positively buzzing with excitement behind her.

“Hey! Thanks for coming to grab us,” Maya said.

“Get in, we can probably make it to Chinatown in fifteen minutes if we hurry,” Rosalie ran a hand through her shimmering golden hair and turned down the music in the car. “You’re bringing the serf?” Maya let out a laugh and tugged open the front door. Noah piled into the back.

“He’s not a—,” Maya started.

“I will have you know that my family runs a moderately profitable print shop back in Columbus. We’re upper middle class at the very least…in Ohio.” Noah scoffed, not taken aback by Rosalie’s ribbing. Rose just rolled her eyes and waited for Maya to buckle her seatbelt.

“Where’s Emmett?” Maya asked.

“He went to see his friends in Queens,” Rosalie responded before sliding into the roadway and speeding down toward their intended destination.

“Ah,” Maya replied. Seeing friends in Queens meant hunting.

Maya’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she fished it out before looking at the notification on the screen. She quickly swiped over the message to clear it from her home screen. Rosalie glanced over, her eyes never really leaving the road. Maya shot her a look, one that begged her not to say anything. Not in front of Noah.

Rose got the message loud and clear from Maya’s pained eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. In her pocket, her phone continued to buzz quietly as it did most nights.

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Maya woke up the next morning to the tinny winter light filtering through her dorm room window. The soft whooshing sounds of the city just beyond the campus boundaries created a gentle pulse that matched Maya’s heartbeat. This was the moment she always dreaded—her eyes traveling across the lines of her frost covered window, already melting in the morning light and residual heat trapped by the city, as her consciousness swelled and crashed over her like a wave.

Just as the slightest edge of sleep wore off, the pain would start. A wince, a hollowing in her stomach, a brief wave of nausea, and Maya was up. She sat up in bed, her arm wrapped low around her stomach as the pain pushed through her fast and deep, swelling and pushing her, begging her to go. But Maya would stay as still as she could, taking hard fast breaths through her mouth and squeezing her eyes tight as she waited for the first ebb of pain to pull away.

Sometimes, the pain only lasted for a few minutes, and sometimes more. But at this point, after nearly six months of broken contact from her imprint, Maya knew how to push through the pain. When she first arrived, she knew that fissure that had burst wide open like a cracked damn would spread the pain around her and pull her back toward the reservation. It was almost unbearable at first—worse even than when she and Paul had split the first time. The distance must have made it worse to begin with, she hypothesized.

For the first two weeks of the fall semester, Maya had barely been able to breathe, to speak even as the pain refused to leave her. Every step she took was excruciating and her joints felt rusted, her bones splintered, and her head felt like it would split in two. She felt the constant tug, like a rope edge secured to her belly button, rip at her belly as the imprint pleaded with her to return. Her whole body would be fire during the day, and then ice frozen over at night.

It had taken her months to learn how to manage the pain, learn how to release it, and how to temper it into submission. But that didn’t stop it from sneaking up on her every now and then when she wasn’t expecting it. Maya had learned the ins and outs of her pain, knew the shape of it, and now treated it as an old friend that might never leave her. And with that knowledge, she learned how to contain it. It was only in the mornings now, when the foggy melt of sleep made her too vulnerable did the imprint strike at her like a snake.

Maya held tightly to her abdomen, her eyes flickering up toward the sunlight as she took deeper, more calming breaths. With her eyes closed, she relived the last few moments she had seen Paul—his pleading gaze, her furious and tear stricken face, and the explosion of fur and wood as he took off into the forest. The pain began to ebb now as the echoing heavy footfalls of Paul’s wolf form faded into the memory.

She opened her eyes and released the arm around her abdomen tentatively, swallowing and taking a shuddering breath before her gaze swept over to her nightstand. Her phone lit up with another text, adding to the already sky-high number of texts, missed calls, and voicemails that filled her inbox. Maya rubbed her eyes and held her head in her hands for just a moment before throwing the covers off of her, grabbing her toiletry kit, and heading toward the communal bathroom.

She was once again thankful for the single dorm room the Cullens had arranged for her after she had to come to them for help that fateful night. They had insisted, even when Maya had stated that her scholarship didn’t cover such a lavish expense and only conceded when they urged her that it would be best for them as well as her when ensuring her safety and their privacy.

There had been a lot Maya had agreed to that night. The warmth of the shower water ran over her and Maya’s eyes glazed over, remembering that evening as if it was only yesterday.

“I need your help.” Maya had said just loud enough for herself to hear. She stood at the bottom of the concrete stairs and her eyes made out the shapes of Carlisle and Rosalie at the top. Carlisle held his mouth in a tight line as Rose crossed her arms, head tilted and looking over Maya with genuine interest.

Maya’s heart hammered in her chest. What was she doing here? Walking into the lion’s den like this with no protection, no backup, and no wolfpack was probably insane. But she’d felt like she’d had no other choice. She couldn’t think of anywhere else to go and now looking up at the two terrifyingly still creatures, she wondered if she’d made a mistake in her blind panic.

Carlisle suddenly gave her a soft nod, his stone body easily breaking into graceful, human-like motion as he extended his hand and beckoned her up the steps with a gentle smile. Maya let out a loud breath and shot Rosalie one glance before she jogged up the stairs and over the threshold of the house.

Esme had given her tea and a warm, mothering smile that set Maya at ease as she sat atop the bar chair in the kitchen. Edward and Bella stood off by the sink leaning against the counter as Edward listened intently to Maya’s thoughts. Her mind couldn’t help but replay every second of the evening over and over, awash with fresh panic each time.

“They’re not going to let me leave,” Maya said gently, her eyes flickering up to Edward and then over to Carlisle. Emmett stood by the fireplace in the adjoining living room and Rosalie was perched on the counter top. Carlisle pursed his lips again and looked over to Bella. She gave a gentle shake of her head and Carlisle nodded. “Please, I just want to…” Maya couldn’t finish her sentence as her throat closed up and she hiccuped slightly with too much emotion.

Carlisle finally let his gaze rest on Edward, “What will they do?” Maya’s eyes shot up, wide and terrified as the sound of someone else speaking for the first time reached her ears. They had been nearly silent this entire time and she had no idea what they would do. Would they just hand her back over? Was she risking war by being here?

Bella’s eyes watched Maya carefully, but they were gentle, understanding, as if she recognized some of the pain Maya was feeling in this moment. Edward took a moment to consider, as if listening beyond his means and then shrugged.

“We won’t know for sure unless we ask. There’s nothing specifically in the treaty about this kind of interference. Just that we’re not supposed to harm or hunt the tribe. This doesn’t fall into the category from where I’m standing, but the pack might see it differently.” Edward spoke purposefully, as if mulling over the options in his mind as he was speaking and not coming to any one clear conclusion. Carlisle’s eyes skated over Maya again and then toward Bella.

“Could you reach out to him? To see if we can come to some sort of arrangement?” Carlisle asked. Bella’s eyes hadn’t left Maya since she’d shown up. She glanced at Carlisle, meeting his eyes and gave a nod. Maya watched as Bella left the kitchen, toward the front door, and hear the soft clack as she exited the home.

Maya looked down at her hands and fought back the fresh well of tears that threatened to overtake her. When she looked up, Rosalie’s gaze was still boring through her—curious, imploring, and oddly comforting.

A short while later, Esme took her to a guest room to get some sleep, but Maya was surely not going to do any of that. She checked her phone on and off throughout the evening, but it didn’t seem like anyone had sounded the alarm yet. Maybe they thought she and Paul had just had another blow out argument, their tempers getting the best of them yet again. Maya internally groaned. She so did not want to be that couple.

It was entirely too late, or rather too early when Maya heard the soft sound of the door opening as she sat with her head in her hands at the end of the bed where Esme had left her earlier that night. Maya raised her head, eyes alarmed, to see Bella standing there with a soft smile.

“Come with me,” she said gently, gesturing over her shoulder. Maya couldn’t help the involuntary shiver she gave as she passed her. When they descended the stairs together and rounded into the living room, Maya’s breath hitched in her throat and her steps stuttered as her gaze fell upon the massive form of Jacob Black standing in the center of the open living room. The Cullens gathered around him in various states of relaxation, some sitting on the couch, some with their hands slipped into their pockets and leaning close to the fire.

Maya swallowed hard. Jacob’s arms were crossed over his chest and he didn’t look too happy. Maya clenched her hands into fists at her sides, bracing for a fight. Her eyes darted to Carlisle, and then Bella as if silently asking for an escape or at the very least, an explanation. But none came. Jacob’s mouth sat in a firm line as he looked at her, his gaze never wavering as the firelight flickered shadows over his body.

What was she supposed to say? Jacob kept just staring at her, as if he was trying to figure something out. It made Maya realize quite suddenly she was the least supernatural being in this room and it made her feel…odd. He wasn’t moving, no one else in the room was breathing, but Maya felt like the air was thinning and she was going to crack under the weight of her own panic. Her eyes flickered to Rosalie who straightened from her sitting position on the couch and came to stand next to Carlisle like she had at the top of the stairs. She turned toward Maya and gave her a small nod. Maya opened her mouth as if to speak and then immediately closed it.

And Jacob just stood there, radiating more heat than the fireplace. Maya couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad or just plain tired. He’d always said he’d never wanted to be alpha, but did this fall into his responsibilities? A grown ass runaway just trying to get off this rez so she can go back to school? Probably not. But still, Maya was his problem implicitly as an imprint and for that she was truly sorry.

“Jake, I–” Maya choked on her words, and closed her eyes tight for a second.

“Is this what you want?” he said suddenly. Maya’s eyes snapped open, unsure if he had even spoken or if she had hallucinated it in her sleep deprived state. She stared at him for too long and so he said again, “Is this what you want, Maya?”

She swallowed hard. Her throat on fire before she nodded and said hoarsely, “Yes.”

Jacob let out a loud sigh through his nose and let his arms drop as he turned to Carlisle. “There is still a threat.” Carlisle nodded solemnly.

“We understand. Rose and Emmett have already agreed to escort Maya and stay with her in New York while she attends school.We have a home there, but Maya can obviously stay on campus if she wants.” Jake chuckled.

“Of course you have a home out there,” he rubbed his eyes and shrugged. “Fine. If you’re willing to do this, I can’t really stop her.” Maya took a step toward Jake, not realizing the tears that had gathered and already poured down her cheeks in her earnest.

“You’re letting me leave?” Maya said breathlessly. It seemed like such an idiotic question but only a few hours ago, she thought otherwise. Jacob looked at her now, his gaze somewhat surprised before it turned into deep sadness. A look of understanding came over his face as if he knew what it was like to feel trapped in a no-win situation.

“You should leave today,” he said sternly to Maya before turning to Carlisle, “The sooner the better.”

“Understood,” Carlisle replied softly with a sympathetic smile.

Maya gathered her backpack and leaned down to tie up her chunky black boots before wrapping a scarf loosely around her neck. Her phone buzzed again but by now, Maya mostly ignored the notifications. They came in frequently, from everyone.

Except Keye. She had only texted once after Maya left and knew her well enough to know that there wouldn’t be a point in chasing her. All she had said was: “I love you. Good on you for sticking to what you want. You probably should steer clear of here for awhile. Text if you need.”

Maya read that text often. Just for a little reassurance that what she was doing was the right thing. She glanced at her phone now and saw that the most recent message was from Rose. She was on her way to her dorm to walk with Maya to class. Rose had registered at Columbia as a Sophomore to study mechanic engineering as her “cover”, but Maya knew she just genuinely enjoyed doing something with her time. Plus, Rosalie’s alluring nature only helped Maya in her department and in making connections. She tried not to rely too much on that though.

Maya was determined to do this her way and succeed on her own, like she always had. Still, it came in handy sometimes.

Ten minutes later, they were walking side by side across the quad toward Maya’s early morning lecture.

“It’s not that bad,” Rose said straightening her dark maroon leather gloves. .

“It’s bad,” Maya said, “You weren’t there Rose, I really did blow it. I don’t think Professor Arden is going to introduce me like that again after that monumental flub.”

“Oh please,” Rose scoffed, she pushed her sunglasses up onto her head. The cloud cover this morning was pleasant enough that she could walk around freely without her umbrella she usually carried with her, and the chill of late February in New York meant showing as minimal skin as possible also worked in her favor. “Arden is obsessed with you,” she said not too kindly.

“Ew, no he’s not,” Maya laughed.

“I’ve seen guys like him before Maya, he’s a borderline creep. If you give him another inch, he’ll run the whole mile with it,” Rosalie said matter of factly.

“You’re crazy. And also, he’s my fucking professor. I think I would have picked up on the gross-power-dynamic vibes. You’ve met Paul, right?” Maya quipped. Rose gave a noncommittal sound as her eyes scanned across the quad. Maya’s phone buzzed again.

“You know you can put that on silent, right?” Rose responded as Maya pulled her phone out of her pocket.

“It’s Beez, and we’re running this student seminar together next week so I most definitely cannot turn it on silent,” Maya let out a slow breath as she began to type, the air fogging up around them as they walked briskly.

“Yeah and only 186 unread texts, 217 missed calls, and 73 voicemails,” Rose shot back, “Sure. I’m sure the buzzing is not getting to you either.” Maya rolled her eyes and looked over at Rose who gave her a small smile.

“Who’s obsessed with who now?” Maya quipped, to which Rose let out that bright, twinkling laugh that lit up her whole face.

Maya shoved her phone back into her pocket. Ever since she skipped town, she hadn’t answered anyone, save for Jeremy that first night and her parents.

“They’ll all be there when the semester is over,” Maya said, her teeth chattering from the cold as she yanked open the door to her class building.

“Right,” Rose replied, looking the picture of perfection, not a blonde hair out of place. Despite the prodding, Maya was so grateful to both her and Emmett for getting her back to Columbia when they did that she couldn’t really begrudge her for pointing out the fact that Maya was most definitely avoiding everything back home.

Back home.

Maya hadn’t been home in over six months. Half a year. She hadn’t been home for fall break and her parents opted to visit her out in New York for Christmas. It was probably for the best considering that the rez was a minefield of uncertainty. She hadn’t spoken to anyone, not a text, or a call, since the day she left. And still, her inbox swelled with texts, photos, voicemails, voice messages, and everything in between.

But she couldn’t bring herself to go through them just yet. Maya would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a little bit guilty for leaving the way she did. But she thought she had no other choice. Still, it didn’t stop a fresh pang of guilt from washing over her anytime her phone vibrated.

Maya slumped into her seat in the lecture hall after waving goodbye to Rosalie who drew a few stares per usual. The hallways of the engineering building were dotted with the occasional paper heart or pink and white streamers of the looming holiday. Maya exhaled roughly and was only somewhat jolted out of her reverie when Beez slapped her books down on the table in front of her breathless.

“Hey! Did you get my text?” she said before unwrapping her scarf and shedding her coat.

“Uh, yeah!” Maya said quickly, straightening and turning her attention to the front of the lecture hall where her professor was starting his slides.

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The Valentine’s decorations in the mess hall had seemingly exploded everywhere the closer they got to February 14. Each table was covered in tiny pink confetti hearts and streamers with glittering hearts poured from every ceiling and stairwell. Maya didn’t remember it being as big of deal last year, but now the overwhelming pressure of the holiday was making her nauseous.

That hollowness in Maya’s stomach was growing again and she grimaced down at her salad. Her arm automatically curved around her abdomen lightly underneath the table.

“I never really understood Valentine’s day,” Beez said suddenly between mouthfuls of chicken noodle soup, “I mean, I get it but also like, if you love someone, isn’t that like an everyday thing? Can’t today just be like a proclamation day for people who haven’t expressed loved to their loved one yet? And for everyone else, it can be business as usual?”

Rose looked up from painting her nails and quirked a beautifully arched eyebrow at Beez. “I think it’s nice,” she said easily as she blew on her cherry red nails. Maya’s eyes still stayed zoned in on her salad, focusing on breathing in and out.

“Yeah, it’s nice!” Beez agreed, “But it also doesn’t make sense.”

“What’s not to get about love?” Rose said without looking up from her nails this time in mock concentration.

“Everything,” Beez said after a beat, “It’s the most nonsensical, confusing, logic-defying emotion in our existence. Everything about love doesn’t make sense,” Beez proclaimed as she shuffled through her notecards. Noah sank down in a seat next to her and started digging into his chicken salad sandwich. “People do the weirdest shit when they’re in love.”

“It can be about other kinds of love, not just the romantic kind,” he said between mouthfuls. He always had to rush off to his city planning course after lunch which was clear across campus, but he made it a point to have lunch with them every Tuesday and Thursday.

“I guess,” Beez said, making a revision to her notecard. Maya sucked in a too sharp breath and Noah looked up from his tray.

“My?” he asked, concerned. Rose glanced at Maya and leaned across the table to try and distract them.

“Did you guys get an invitation to that art show in May?” Rose asked. Beez looked up, her brow creasing in confusion. Noah glanced at Rose as if compelled to and then quickly back to Maya. Maya straightened and pretended to pick at her salad, shooting Noah a quick smile.

“No? What art show? God damnit! They think chem kids don’t give a fuck about this stuff and they never give us the good stuff,” Beez complained. Maya was thankful for the distraction, even if Noah still watched her from across the table worriedly as Rosalie promised to text Beez the details.

Maya had never been particularly invested in Valentine’s day as a holiday. Not even before the imprint. But now, it felt like a monument to her current relationship’s disarray. Maybe it felt worse this year not only because of being on the outs with Paul but also because…the last time he had tried to text her was back in January.

The text had been short, as they had gradually become in Maya’s continued silence. It had come in the second week of January, the night of the bonfire nearly two years ago. The night of the imprint.

The text had simply read: Happy anniversary.

Maya had struggled to breathe for a few hours after that and ultimately had turned off her phone and overslept the next day, missing her first two classes.

After that, there was nothing. He hadn’t reached out in almost a month. And Maya was beginning to wonder if this was it. If he was giving up. She couldn’t blame him considering how she had left and how she had iced him out after. She was still amazed by the fact that he had never traveled out to New York to confront her or try to bring her back. But maybe Rose and Emmett had been enough of a deterrent to ensure that she wouldn’t go easily. That and she’d never forgive him. Still, something in Maya wouldn't let her forgive him just yet for trying to keep her on the rez in the first place and she held onto that feeling, that distance to help her get through the semester.

Now as the day loomed closer, she just felt alone. She was surrounded by people—people who cared about her. And yet, Maya felt that familiar ache that pulsed with the realization that she would never truly be whole without Paul. She knew that. But she knew what she had to do first—to make this all worth it, if that feeling didn’t drive her crazy first. It was maddening, like an itch she couldn’t quite scratch, a tug that just wouldn’t let up. It drove out any sense of reason and sent her brain buzzing with static. She couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t breathe.

Maya pushed away from the table abruptly and stood, scooping up her bag. “I just forgot that I needed to talk to Professor Arden about my…” she didn’t finish as she hurried away and out toward the quad. No one followed her, for which she was thankful.

Out in the cold, February air, Maya took some deep gulping breaths to calm herself and try to quell the growing pain in her stomach. Absently, her feet made their way toward the engineering building as tears glittered in her eyes.

As if on autopilot in her grief, Maya was suddenly in front of Professor Arden’s door. She swallowed thickly, and wiped the tears off of her stained cheeks. She hadn’t actually meant to come and see Professor Arden, she had just been so lost in thought trying to escape the pain welling up in her that her feet carried her here as if on instinct. Maya spent a lot of time here going over her papers, brainstorming ideas for her upcoming thesis that was still a ways off, talking about grad programs and the merits of teaching versus finding something industry. Professor Arden was a great sounding board and had incredible connections.

Hoping for a distraction, Maya dug in her bag for her latest paper—an actual excuse to be here. But she had nothing on her.

With a sigh she cleared the tears away once more and just as she turned to leave, the door to his office wrenched open. Maya startled, and stumbled back a little wide eyed.

“Maya!” Professor Arden exclaimed, somewhat surprised to see her standing there, somewhat disheveled by the cold wind blowing around campus.

“Professor Arden,” Maya returned, trying to straighten herself up and tame her hair that must have been a wild mess from booking it across the quad. “I, uh—” she closed her eyes somewhat embarrassed and opened them to see him watching her with a soft, comforting look on his face. “I meant to bring you something to look over, but I uh—” she thumbed over her shoulder back toward the stairwell, “I forgot, so, I’m just gonna—” she started to back away.

“That’s alright, I had actually received an email from Dr. Bronnard about an aerospace internship position this summer in Ohio. Do you want to come take a look? I think it might be a good fit,” he said warmly. Maya pursed her lips and then nodded, her enthusiasm quickly returning as she brushed by him and into his office.

Professor Arden’s office was a warm oasis from the cold campus outside. He had a wall lined with bookcases and crammed with books and project proposals and published articles from magazines and journals. He was a leading voice in modern engineering for how young he was in his career. Maya guessed he couldn’t be older than his late thirties or early forties. His office culminated around a large black wood desk that was littered with papers. He fit well into this office, and the warm smell of cedar and fresh cut mint hung in the air. It was pleasant, Maya had to admit, and she enjoyed spending time in his office, thumbing through his books and asking far too many questions.

He humored her though, and was always friendly, kind, and trying to push her in the right direction. He grabbed his laptop from his desk and scooped up the clear frame glasses from a stack of ungraded papers before settling on the plush green velvet couch that sat opposite his desk. Maya sunk down next to him, tucking a leg under her and dropping her book bag to the ground with a thud. She unraveled her scarf and shrugged off her coat, setting it across the arm of the couch before leaning over to look at his laptop.

“Okay, soooo…” he said, his eyes glued to the laptop screen as he pulled up the website that offered the internship. Maya set her arm on the back of the couch and rested her head against her hand as she peered across him to his screen. “This is the company. Dr. Bronnard has been there for about 10 or so years. He was actually my professor at Brown when I was in grad school,” he chuckled warmly and Maya couldn’t help but smile at the sound.

“Brown, huh? Never pegged you for a west coast kind of guy,” she joked. He threw her a look and Maya gave him a full on laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, yuck it up. Speaking of, have you thought anymore about grad school?” he said, as he clicked through a couple pages to get to the internship application. Maya sighed and looked back at his screen.

“Not yet. I still have two more years here and who knows what will happen,” her voice sounded tired, even to her. Professor Arden’s hands paused and he looked over at her again.

“Two years isn’t that long,” his voice was low, and the warm amber light of the room suddenly had a lulling quality. Maya sank her head down into the crook of her arm as hair fell into her face. She groaned.

“A lot can happen in two years,” she said, “Trust me.”

“Okay,” he smiled at her again in that way that was so endearing, and Maya understood why so many students found him attractive. “Just think about it,” he shrugged. Maya nodded from her relaxed place and pushed some hair behind her ear as she looked back to his screen.

“Is this a three month stint in Ohio?” she asked. Professor Arden gave a hum of affirmation. “Aerospace? You think I’m cut out for aerospace engineering? My focus is in biomechanics,” she said uncertainly.

“I know,” he gestured to the screen, “But you’d be working closely with a team that is working on building a fully functioning garden lab in space. Botany, farming, sustainable harvesting, the whole bit. I think it would be a great challenge for you,” He looked over at her and Maya saw that promise in his eyes, the one that dared her to believe him if she would just believe in herself too. She’d missed that look, “Plus, it might be a welcome distraction.” His voice lowered a bit, as if they were telling secrets. Maya sucked in a breath and sat up.

“What do you—,” she started, but Professor Arden shook his head.

“I see you, Maya,” he said gently. “I get it.”

Did he? She wondered. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she worried he might hear it. Maya couldn’t bear the weight of this pain that pushed on her now. She felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes and desperately did not want him to see her cry over something she couldn’t…wouldn’t explain. She needed to leave, she knew that. This pain would crush her and in front of a professor was probably the most mortifying way her pain going public could be. But she couldn’t seem to lift herself from the comfort of the couch.

She held his gaze, hoping that the tears would not fall, but they threatened to spill any moment. And the pain of remembering that hollowness in her stomach, the emptiness and utter barren feeling of loneliness swelled and burst over her, propelling her forward.

Before Maya even knew what was happening, her lips had crashed down upon his. They were soft and warm and he tasted…different. Her hand had found its way up to his sharp jaw covered in a pleasingly trimmed, soft beard. And he wasn’t pulling away. Maya found herself lifting her body, slinging one leg across his lap as he moved his laptop out of the way, so she could straddle him. His mouth opened to her, his hands grabbing her waist and held her tightly to the line of his crotch. Maya was lost in sensation. She’d never kissed another man, and the feeling sent a thrill through her, amplified by her grief begging her to forget if she could just deepen this kiss and take it a step further. Maya slid her tongue across his as a soft whispered moan fell from her lips and into his mouth. She pressed her chest to his, her nipples hard and begging to be touched as her other hand coasted down to cup his neck. Her hips began to move of their own accord, grinding against his clothed crotch. He was pushing back toward her into the kiss and Maya’s mind started to go blank. The heat was rising between them as the kiss turned frantic, feverish. His hands squeezed her hips and helped her move across his covered length, and a wanton groan spilled from his mouth. Maya smiled into the kiss. Was she really doing this? Her heart panged with fear, sadness, and some unanswered excitement. Why did it feel so good to forget?

Maya let her hand drift down his neck and chest, toward his belt buckle that jingled lightly between them, and in one swift movement, he yanked free of the kiss.

“Maya, wait,” he said breathlessly, coming to his senses.

“Wh-what? What’s wrong?” she breathed, her hair a mess, her mouth puckered and red, ready to receive anything he was willing to give her. Professor Arden shook his head, as if trying to clear it. Maya could feel him hard and wanting between her thighs, and almost moaned in disappointment when he shifted her off his lap back onto the couch.

“We can’t do this,” he said, letting her go, “I’m so sorry…that was… you are..” he groaned and stood up, keeping his back to her as he paced toward his desk. Maya put a hand to her lips and the feelings of grief and loneliness erupted into embarrassment, showering her in pure mortification.

“Oh my god,” she breathed. Maya was suddenly terrified of the person that she was. She had kissed a professor, her advisor, her confidante. What the fuck was she thinking?! As far as she knew, she was still with Paul. And she had kissed someone else. “Oh my god,” she said louder as she scrambled off of the couch and began to grab her things in a panic.

“Maya,” he said suddenly, sharply turning and crossing the room. “Maya,” he grabbed her arm gently and she whirled around her eyes shooting up to his wide-eyed as if caught.

“I’m so, so sorry. Professor Arden, I—” she pulled her book bag onto her shoulder, stuttering as she tried to find the right words, “I don’t know what came over me, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean….oh my god,” she pressed a hand to her forehead as she looked at the ground. The tears were back and fell in earnest.

“Hey, Maya,” he placated. Suddenly, that soft, broad hand was on her cheek and pulling her face up, “It’s okay. Really. I just don’t think…we should go there. You’re beautiful, and brilliant, and funny, and are headed toward amazing things….” his calming voice quelled some of Maya’s tears and she automatically leaned into his hand, “But you’re very obviously hurt and dealing with something and I won’t complicate things further than they already would be if we…” he swallowed thickly, his eyes coasting down her body for a moment and flickering back toward the couch as if considering taking it a step further right then and there. And for a moment, Maya wanted him to.

She imagined the comfort it would temporarily bring her to be covered by him, her thighs spread as he pumped into her, nibbling at her breasts, telling her it was okay, it was alright, they’d figure it out later, but right now…right now they just needed to focus on feeling good. Together. She would moan softly to egg him on as he would bend her knees and push them toward her face so he could sink deeper and deeper into her, pushing her to a limit that would make her beg. She craved that feeling of connection, togetherness, and the warmth that would spread in her belly when he would come in her and fill her to the brim. And the soft sigh of relief when he’d pull out, peppering her with kisses as he dripped from between her legs and kissed her neck.

But it wouldn’t be him.

She knew deep down that that wasn’t what she really wanted. That she would be picturing someone else the whole time. And she knew that the pain would come back tenfold. She nodded up at him and he gave her a reassuring smile as he let his thumb wipe away a tear falling down her cheek.

“It’s okay,” he promised. “Believe me, I would if this was some other lifetime, some other situation. But I want to help you get to where you need to go. It’s kind of my whole job,” he joked. Maya let out a wet laugh and nodded.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” she breathed. He clicked his tongue as if to shoosh her but she shook her head and took a step back out of his grasp, “Can we just forget this ever happened? I’m honestly mortified,” she ran a hand through her hair and he nodded, slipping his hands in his pockets.

“Of course, consider it forgotten,” he said gently. Maya let out a sigh of relief and said:

“Thank you, Professor Arden,” she crossed his office and pulled open his door. He hadn’t moved from his place by his desk.

“Arden,” he corrected. Maya looked over her shoulder, “You should really just start calling me Arden.” There was that endearing smile again. Maya shook her head and gave him a teasing smile.

“That would be a bit too familiar, don’t you think?” she joked. He let out a barking laugh and Maya made her exit without another word.

--------

The soft shuffling of papers echoed across the tall angular architecture of the Butler library. Maya sighed and flipped through her textbooks. Finals were only a few weeks away and she was halfway through her second term paper, her brain threatening to crack from the sheer amount of information she’d been processing for the past few days.

Rosalie sat quietly across from her, slowly reading a textbook that she very clearly already knew all of the information in. But, to keep up appearances and to keep Maya company, she pretended to be exhausted and overworked like the rest of them.

The end of her sophomore year looked vastly different than that of her freshman one. She was on the precipice of a new opportunity and had her internship lined up for the summer, thanks to Professor Arden’s help, and Rosalie and Emmett were working out the accommodations for all three of them.

Maya rubbed her eyes and tried to press reset on her brain. She tried to focus on what she’d be doing in just one short month in her internship in Ohio. Professor Arden’s connections with Dr. Bronnard helped Maya get a foot in the door and they delightedly offered her the role after one short interview. She couldn’t help but wonder if that was mostly Professor Arden’s doing.

Ever since their makeout session in his office in February, Maya had been trying to keep her distance. They only met up a few times in either very public spaces or during his office hours where there were sure to be students milling about to keep the awkwardness down. True to his word, he acted as if nothing had ever happened and Maya would try to contain the red blush from creeping into her cheeks any time she was near him, still full on embarrassed from her clumsy misstep. Honestly, he had probably helped her get that internship in Ohio just so they didn’t have to talk as much.

Still, she was grateful for the space to help clear her head of her mistake and forge ahead. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, Paul was still radio silent. That was fine, she thought. The less distractions the better. And now that she wasn’t going home for the summer, it took a weight off of her.

She would be away from her home for a full year. The thought made her breathless and a new, whining ache wound in her. Maya grimaced and tried to type the conclusion on her term paper. But her hands stayed hovered over the keys. Whispers floated out of different studying nooks and Maya looked up at Rosalie. She raised her golden eyes up at her and gave her a quizzical look.

“Why did you agree to come with me?” Maya said softly, but she knew full well Rose could hear her. Maya wasn’t sure where that question had come from, only that she felt like she needed an answer.

Rose watched her for a moment, her soft, liquid gold eyes carefully catching on each of Maya’s features before she leaned in a bit on the table so Maya could better hear her.

“Because I understand what it feels like to be trapped,” she said gently, “And so does Jake. Which is why he did what he did. Plus, I admire a woman who knows what she wants and is willing to break a few hearts to get it,” she smirked and Maya stared for a long time.

“What did Jake do?” Maya asked. Rosalie paused here, wondering what the path of least confusion and hurt would be, measuring the weight of each option.

“He gave Paul an alpha order not to interfere with your life until you were ready. Until you came to him,” Rosalie said, her eyes holding onto Maya’s.

The breath seemed to trap itself in Maya’s throat as she processed Rosalie’s answer. Jacob had ordered Paul not to interfere. That explained the lack of him showing up to drag her back. A familiar burn pressed in her stomach, one that echoed the full blown fire of the imprint and Maya swallowed hard in response before she nodded and looked back down at her book.

“Will you?” Rosalie asked suddenly, snapping Maya up from her reverie as she stared at the pages of her book. They might as well have been blank for all of her comprehension in that moment.

“Will I what?” Maya asked, her voice somewhat gravelly.

“Will you go to him?” she asked with genuine interest as if she truly couldn’t anticipate the answer. Maya was stunned into silence again and couldn’t bring herself to answer. After a long moment, Rosalie nodded with a sympathetic smile and let her gaze fall to her book, releasing Maya from having to answer.

-----------

Maya slipped out of her light black shawl and handed it to the attendant by the museum front doors with a smile. Noah checked his umbrella and followed close behind as Beez stood at the bottom of the marble stone steps that led up to the exhibit looking nervous.

“You okay?” Maya asked, confused. Beez nodded and waved her off before tilting her head.

“I love your hair!” she exclaimed. Maya immediately brought a hand up to touch her freshly chopped hair, cut in a blunt style that hung just at her shoulders. She had kind of done it on a whim that afternoon with Rosalie when they were picking out a last minute clutch for Rosalie. Maya had had curled into loose beachy waves that framed her face and put on some dark winged liner and a dark plum lip to go with her Anna October black mini dress. The razor thin straps cut down across the open back, exposing down almost to her low back. “So fucking cute,” Beez confirmed. Maya blushed and looked down at her chunky Versace heels that Rosalie had insisted on.

“Aw thanks,” she said tucking some hair behind her ear. “You look great too!” Maya said, “Doesn’t she, Noah?” Maya turned as Noah shook some of the loose rain from his hair and he looked over at both of them.

“10/10 Beez,” he smiled. Beez buzzed and turned, grabbing Maya’s hand as they jogged up the stone steps.

“This is going to be so cool!” she exclaimed. Maya let out a little laugh and agreed. She’d been to a couple of art shows in the city on a whim, but these were all original pieces by multiple artists. And the artists themselves would be milling about. It was kind of a big deal, or so Maya had been told.

Once they entered the wide open art floor, cut with smaller white panels to help separate the exhibits, the threesome made their way through the crowd. Maya grabbed a glass of champagne from a server and scooped up another glass for Noah who gratefully took it. Beez wasn’t much of a drinker and she was too wowed by the collection of bent and twisted ceramic and wood that took on a life of it’s own around her.

Maya tried to contain her smile as she shuffled through some of the exhibits. At one point, Noah broke off to go talk to some industry people he had keeping an eye on and Beez skated away toward an artist who was talking about the inspiration for his piece. Maya stayed in front of a swirling piece of ceramic that seemed to defy physics as she slowly sipped her champagne.

“Thought that was you,” a familiar voice said softly from beside her. Maya glanced to her left and smiled. Professor Arden was standing tall in a dark blue suit, his dark hair swept into a soft quoif, and his beard trimmed neat as always. The soft smell of cedar and mint met her nose and she exhaled slowly.

Maya tipped back the rest of her champagne glass and deposited it onto the empty tray from a server passing by with a ‘thank you.’

Professor Arden passed her a fresh glass he had been holding and she plucked it from his hand. The champagne bubbled delightfully in her stomach.

“Thank you,” she said.

“No problem,” he glanced down at her with a warm smile and let his gaze run up and down the length of her body with an appreciative nod, “You look great.” he said simply before turning back to the art piece.

“Oh, this old thing?” Maya quipped, “Dug it out of the designer dumpster on 6th ave.” Arden chuckled and took a sip. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” she finished. Was she flirting? Why was she flirting?

He looked down at his suit and nodded, “From the dumpster,” he confirmed. Maya let out a small laugh and shook her head. At least it wasn’t awkward. “Oh, shit,” he said softly.

“What?” Maya said alarmed. She rarely ever heard him cuss.

“That’s Dr. Bronnard,” he gestured to a grey haired man standing with a cluster of people around him listening to whatever story he was telling about his latest breakthrough. “I didn’t know if he’d make it to this, but I want to introduce you,” his hand floated down to rest on the middle of her naked back, sending shivers down Maya’s spine.

“O-oh!” Maya stuttered, taken aback, “Absolutely, yes. That’s my new boss so might as well right?” she chuckled nervously. Arden took a step closer to her, his warmth causing a soft tingling sensation to erupt across her skin, making Maya feel more naked than when she had taken off her shawl. It must be cold in here, she thought.

“He’s great, I promise. Just be your normal, quippy self and he’s going to love you,” that warm smile spread across his face and Maya nodded.

“Easy enough,” she breathed. He gently pressed against her back, steering her toward Dr. Bronnard. Maya had to admit that she felt good. Better than she had felt in months. She felt calm and confident and that hollowness in her stomach had cleared away halfway through her second glass of champagne. She smiled up at Arden gratefully as he waved to Dr. Bronnard during a lull in the conversation and introduced Maya, his hand still firmly placed on her back. It was comforting, and she leaned forward to take Dr. Bronnard’s hand and began to animatedly discuss all the reading up on his current project she had done.

That feeling of calm never left her during their conversation, and Maya wanted to attribute it to the soft stroke of Arden’s thumb against her spine as she carried on and on with Dr. Bronnard easily. Arden cut in every now and then to offer some interesting tidbit or to highlight a recent accomplishment of Maya’s in their department.

She was positively glowing, in her element, and had felt like she belonged here. Maya belonged here. Dr. Bronnard thanked Maya for her sheer enthusiasm and exclaimed that she had been the obvious right choice considering her passion and purpose for this project she was pursuing this summer at his facility. He excused himself to talk with a colleague and Maya spun on her heel with a squeal and looked up delightedly at Arden.

“See? Easy. Quippy, self-assured, brilliant Maya strikes again,” he said enthusiastically. Maya shook her head with laughter and placed a hand on Arden’s bicep to steady herself on her heels.

“That was amazing,” she finally managed. “I’ve never felt less like an imposter in my entire fucking life,” Maya was on cloud nine, she was spinning, and she was little tipsy if she was being honest.

Arden seemed to notice because he said, “You’re not an imposter. I’m going to run to the restroom and get us some water. Those hors d'oeuvres really aren’t soaking up any of this champagne.” Maya nodded and clutched her champagne glass, standing straight. “I’ll be back,” he said, giving her that sweet, soft smile. Someone was going to fall in love with that smile someday. She was honestly surprised no one had yet.

Maya turned around to face the room, drifting off toward an exhibit absently. She wound up in the center of the room, facing a tall wooden sculpture made from driftwood. Her throat tightened suddenly and she let her eyes roam around the delicate carving of the piece. It reminded her of home, something she hadn’t thought about in months if she was being honest. The wood was familiar, the white and green of the wood marred by years on the beach. She took a step toward it, her heart lurching in her chest and reached a hand out to touch it. She wondered if it would feel as cool to the touch as it looked.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to touch that,” a voice said gruffly a few feet away from her. Maya startled and whirled around, some champagne sloshing over the rim of her glass. She stumbled back somewhat and then let her eyes fall on the figure that had chastised her.

Standing in an all black suit, with a black trimmed beard that darkened his whole face was Paul Lahote.

“Oh…fuck,” Maya whispered. She fought from wobbling like a newborn deer on top of her chunky heels as her eyes stayed glued to that of her imprint. The man she had left nearly 9 months ago after he threatened to keep her on the reservation in an effort to keep her safe, contained, kept. Maya swallowed hard.

That explained the quell of the aching hollowness that usually accompanied her every waking moment. Paul was here, which washed away any of that ache, that pain that she relentlessly beat back for months. He was here and it just disappeared. Was life really that unfair?

“What are you doing here?” Maya managed after a long moment of the two of them just staring at one another. His gaze was hard, angry, furious even. He looked like he was about to rip someone’s throat out, but he remained stock still. Hands in his pockets, silver watch glittering against the art lights overhead. He took a long moment to answer, his eyes taking in her whole face as if he was drinking a glass of water after being fed only salt for months.

Finally, he gestured to the piece behind Maya. The one made of driftwood that felt like home.

“Rachel got some of my pieces into this exhibit. I was required to come as part of the exhibit,” he said almost begrudgingly.

How was he standing so still? She wondered. Maya was fighting everything in her to keep from walking toward him. The imprint thrummed, rearing its head and cried out for him.

“I thought… I thought Jake—” she began.

“Jacob doesn’t know I’m here. I’m away…on work. None of his business. And technically I’m not breaking any,” he gritted his teeth, “rules.” He spoke the last word with venom. Maya’s heart was beating frantically in her chest, “I didn’t know you’d be here.” He said it with almost disappointment and Maya felt herself nearly crack in two.

Her mouth must have been hanging open slightly because she closed it abruptly and clacked her teeth together. The man before her was definitely Paul, but he was darker somehow.

Anger rippled off of him in waves though there was no tremor to his physical shape suggesting he was fighting from phasing. Instead, his dark brown eyes held nothing but overwhelming malice, thick with what Maya could only place as disgust. But still the hollowness that usually accompanied Maya was nowhere to be found.

Despite his anger and sheer disdain for her, he was here and the imprint soothed a balm of calm across her.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Maya said thickly, to which he scoffed at. Was this how they would be? Or was he just as taken aback as Maya.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” he said, frustration coating his tongue.

“Ditto,” Maya shot back, the anger rising in her now, an easier defense than the earth shattering sadness that was threatening to overtake her like a wave, “Glad to see you have the ability to go wherever you want, when you want. Must be liberating.”

“No one’s keeping you away,” he was quick to shoot back, “Check any of your messages lately?” Maya blew out a huff of breath, “You missed Sadie and Seth’s wedding.”

Maya knew that—her mom had told her, but she couldn’t bring herself to return the reservation, not even for that. She opened her mouth to respond to tell him as much, but he carried on.

“Kim had her baby. Oh, and your best friend is pregnant again,” every sentence came out as an accusation. Maya hadn’t known about that last one. Becks was pregnant again? Fuck. “Not like you give a shit,” he said finally. The air hung thick and heavy between them and Maya felt the sharp burn of tears against her eyes.

“Fuck you,” she said through gritted teeth. Paul’s eyes widened in mock surprise and it infuriated her. He nodded and looked down at his feet before looking back up at her. One tear had escaped and flowed quickly down her cheek. Paul’s eyes followed it and abruptly he took a step toward her, as if on reflex, but he stopped.

“Everything okay?” a warm voice next to her asked. Oh no, Maya thought. Her eyes widened again and she felt that warm, reassuring hand on her back again as Arden tugged Maya a tad bit closer, clearly seeing she was in distress. But Maya was worried now that this entire exhibit was about to be shredded into pieces.

Her eyes found Paul, but his gaze was fixed only on Arden. His eyes narrowed, pure daggers thrown as he cocked his head to the side somewhat in challenge. Arden straightened somewhat and Maya thought about stepping away, excusing herself, but she couldn’t leave Arden to the wolves. He would be ripped to shreds.

There was still no tremors indicating Paul was in danger of losing control, but his face was contorted into that of faux chagrin.

“Not at all,” he said, his voice dripping with challenge. “Miss Sunriviere was just admiring my piece, weren’t you?” Paul’s eyes popped to Maya’s face for just a second, pain shot through his features so quickly, Maya wasn’t sure if she had actually seen it or not before he looked back to Arden.

“Ah, I see,” Arden said, not wholly convinced. His hand slid to Maya’s waist and she braced herself for the onslaught, “Maya, there’s someone over here I want you to meet. Nice to meet you Mr.?” Arden paused.

“Lahote,” Paul said stiffly, “Paul Lahote.”

“Mr. Lahote,” Arden nodded and pulled Maya around, his hand coming to rest in the center of her naked back again as he steered her away. Maya felt the heat from Paul’s gaze pierce her skin and when she dared a look over her shoulder back at him, he looked fit to roll into a rage right then and there at that hand on her back and burst into flames, but stayed exactly where he had stood the entire time as if bolted to the floor, unable to move.

Next > >

#taking time #chapter fifty #paul lahote fanfiction #paul lahote x oc #twilight fanfiction #the twilight saga #the cullens #rosalie cullen #emmett cullen #twilight wolf pack #paul lahote #paul lahote smut #maya what are you doing?#paul lahote pairing #jacob black #bella swan #twilight fanfic #twilight #edward cullen

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rockethorse · 2 years

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TS2 ideas for gift-giving Sims

So, I love having my Sims use the Seasons gift-giving function to give each other presents for birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, etc., but if the recipient Sim doesn’t really need anything, I often got stuck for ideas.

Then it occured to me - the gift can simply stay in their inventory forever! It doesn’t actually have to be something functional that they place on their own lot, so it doesn’t matter if it’s a duplicate, or if it doesn’t match their style, etc. Such a simple and obvoius realisation, but (and perhaps this makes me a humbug) I’d largely seen the ‘give a gift’ function as simply a means to transfer items I wanted to move between Sims and forgotten that, just like irl gift-giving, the thought is often more meaningful than the actual gift.

So let��s come up with some ideas for what kind of things Sims could gift each other! Of course, Sims will reject very cheap gifts if they have a low relationship, but if you’re just having family members swap gifts for the holidays, pretty much anything goes. It’s fun to consider both what the recipient would like as a gift vs what the gift-giver would think to get them - not everyone is a great gifter, after all!

Here are some potential gifts - add your own! I’m trying to stick to items found within the game but CC suggestions are great too.

Something Handmade

This is where crafting stations excel - the toy bench obviously makes perfect gifts for kids or parents (and dog owners, for the Water Wiggler), and the flower table provides great anniversary presents. The pottery wheel and sewing machine have something for anyone.

Paintings (or drawings, with the architect’s table, or photos from the antique camera) made by the gifter

BV photo prints or books the gifter had made for them

Home cooking! Anyone else remember the fruit cake your neighbours would drop off in TS1? A talented home cook could offer a layer cake, a pie, or some holiday cookies.

Home-grown Seasons produce and trays of juice

By Aspiration

Family: Commission a portrait or photo (or series of portraits/photos) of the Sim’s family and/or pets; SmartMilk; “Don’t Wake The Llama”

Fortune: Money; a money sack from a wish; a money tree; cologne; champagne; fancy souvenirs; pricy art; buried treasure; a really nice mahogany desk; extracted/clutter CC handbags, hats, watches or shoes; the counterfeiting machine (good "gag gift” that doesn’t have to be used)

Romance: Cologne; a vanity table; fancy candles; regift them some date bouquets for them to drop off with their next date; a Love Tub; some deco (or sewn) lingerie; this chair

Knowledge: A new bookshelf; a globe; a telescope; a spare dragon legend scroll or Bon Voyage map; a ReNuYu potion, even if they have no use for it; a fancy chess set

Popularity: A novelty house phone; a tanning bed/towel; a makeup palette; a bubble blower; a punch keg; an Apartment Life lapdog; some Cool Shades; some pool toys or an above-ground pool; a picnic basket

Pleasure Seeker: A beanbag; a bubble blower; a coffee machine; a boom box or jukebox; a noodle soother; a hammock; plants from the hydroponic grower

Grilled Cheese: Grilled cheese; the grilled cheese painting; grilled cheese; the grilled cheese recolour of the mini decorative easel that came with the IKEA stuff pack; grilled cheese

By Age Range

For Kids: Doll houses; play ovens; activity tables; toy chests; new pajamas (with the sewing machine); a funky lamp, clock or rug; a cute chair just for their room, like the ‘beanbag’ or bear chair; a trampoline; a lemonade stand; a hot cocoa maker; a paddling pool; the wall deco blackboard or height chart; a swing set; an antfarm or snowglobe; the cute little MySims figurines including the Witch craftable one; a racecar bed; a dog house because they’re getTING A PUPPY!!!!

From Kids: Kids may not be able to craft as many things as adults, but they can still paint, bake muffins, draw things on the activity table, fish and tend/harvest Seasons produce, and regift any treasures they dig up or find on hikes. With this modded pottery wheel, they can even sculpt clay!

Teens: A new computer for school/uni; a used car (or custom bike); handheld devices; posters for their walls; a mini-fridge; magazines; cologne; a bunch of home-made meals to take to college

Elders: A reclining chair; a coffee maker; those posters that look like they were drawn by toddlers; a nice rug; sculptures of cherubs or kittens or realistic sleeping babies or whatever else grannies like to keep around

For Hobby Enthusiasts

Sports: A signed jersey for their wall; a commemorative football; a sewn soccer jersey; the sports-themed drinks bar; a novelty plaque or trophy; a deco surfboard or snowboard

Games: RGB lights for their computer setup; “Myshuno”; mahjong; a pinball machine or arcade cabinet; a rare Void Critters card; a poker table; gamer fuel or a gaming chair

Fitness: A yoga mat; a blender; a sauna (big spender); some deco workout equipment or an exercise ball office chair; geodes, witchy crystal balls & salt lamps; deco gym shoe clutter or a gym bag

Cooking: Some new decorative cooking pots/pans; a cornucopia; freshly-caught fish (divisive); decorative plates; the wall-deco wine racks; a nectar bar; a tea set; canisters or oven mitts

Science: A deco molecule or microscope; a cheap telescope; an ant farm; space/alien posters; hanging planet light; a Thinking Cap

Art & Crafts: The poseable mini wooden Sim figure every irl artist gets gifted too and doesn’t know how to use; the deco books where the bookends are actually those statues; deco canvases; a new desk or table just for their crafting area; shelves; fabric bolts; yarn

Tinkering: RC cars; filing cabinets/organisers for the garage; deco tools; a crafting bench; a toy robot; Sir Bricks-a-Lot

Film & Literature: A new bookshelf; some decorative books; a novel; film posters; old film & TV props; a mini mecha figure; pillows to curl up & read on; a cozy lamp to read by; a typewriter

Nature: Lawn ornaments; house plants; planters; gardening tools (decorative or functional, such as sprinklers or a grow lamp); an aquarium; outdoor lights; camping chairs/tents etc and shade parasols; seedlings in planters higher-level than the recipient’s gardening badge; a small fountain for their yard

Music & Dance: A ballet barre and shoes; full-length mirrors; a new stereo or some speakers; a new or upgraded instrument (especially for the child-teen birthday); a disco ball; artist, tour, or album art poster prints; wall or floor CD racks; commemorative record wall hangings

If the gifting Sim is higher than the recipient Sim in a given hobby, they could give them a magazine!

By Relationship/Event

Dating: The teddy bear in a T-shirt sculpture; the IKEA heart plush; framed photo booth romantic photo; the groovy heart sculpture; a bouquet; a box of chocolates

Professional: A tasteful vase or trinket bowl; a nice desk or wall clock; an RC helicopter (for the boss who has everything); something for their cubicle like a bonsai tree, stationery, or an executive desk toy

Housewarming: A welcome mat; a useless plate people throw their keys in; an obnoxious sculpture or house plant they wouldn’t buy for themselves; Shelves For Things; a statement armchair; an actually tasteful rug; fresh produce; champagne, a nectar bar, or the deco wall wine rack; deco towels/towel warmer; a compost bin; the weird toilet paper gnome; a BBQ or fire pit (to take it quite literally) If the Sims are completely new to the neighbourhood, not just the house, their neighbours could gift them a cake or some other group meal as a way of welcoming them and introducing themselves.

Wedding: A framed photo of the couple; that one wall hanging with the two hands holding and all the handwritten notes; champagne; the wall-mounted deco plates set; an appliance nobody actually uses like a toaster oven or a food processor; matching “them & theirs” deck chairs, towels, etc; pushy baby stuff; something obnoxious that implies marriage is a prison (if heterosexual); a suitcase or luggage for their honeymoon; a photo booth, if you can give it to them before the wedding, for guests

Graduation: Some more deco plaques to really show off those extra certifications; more champagne or wine or juice or a bar or anything to help you forget; mounted mascot head; something related to their degree/future career; a sleek professional desk & chair ready for them to start work; restaurant vouchers because oops looks like job hunting is taking longer than expected; grandma’s comfort soup :’(

Now that you have all these ideas, why not get your Sims together for a random gift exchange? Whether it’s the whole town or just within a big family - challenge them (and yourself) to think about what each Sim would buy for their recipient, whether it matches up with what the recipient would want, and then see if the recipient accepts or trashes the gift! This is my favourite name-from-a-hat generator for this purpose since it does not require email signups or push wishlists, etc. while also allowing you to set certain exclusions (e.g. Sims cannot draw their own family members, their spouse, etc). You could even make it a white elephant - where each Sim is competing to give the worst gift (be wary if the gifting Sims don’t have a high relationship already!)

#TS2 #the sims 2

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dollslayer · 3 years

Text

Champagne Problems

Bartender!Bucky x Reader

Summary: When your ex-boyfriend makes a surprise appearance at your sister's wedding you find help from an unexpected source.

W/C: 4,642

Warnings: NO MINORS, Smut, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol consumption

A/N: Hey! I know it's been a minute (sorry), I wrote this for @saiyanprincessswanie's writing challenge using the bartender au! If you like this please reblog and comment and check out my other fics!! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

You sighed internally before slapping on a smile for yet another group picture. Your bridesmaid dress was itchy and you already regretted spending the entire night in it, as the reception was just starting. But it was your sister’s day and you decided that if what she really wanted was for you to wear this itchy monstrosity to honor her wedding then damn it, you’d do it. So you leaned in close with the rest of the wedding party and posed some more.

When the photographer had finished with his photos you were ushered to the family table and wedged between your mother and your aunt. You mentally cursed your sister for seating you with them because they were going to spend the entire night trying to set you up with someone while simultaneously lamenting that you’d dumped your boyfriend of 4 years just a month earlier. Your mother wanted grandchildren so badly, you didn’t know why she couldn’t just settle to get them from your sister.

“Sweetheart, you and Steve were so good together though! Remember when he surprised you at Christmas with that puppy? I don’t know how you let a man like that go…” Your mom chided.

You grabbed the attention of a passing server and grabbed the champagne off their tray. If you were going to have this conversation again you needed liquid courage to do so. You downed it in three sips and your mom scoffed at you.

“Mom, we've been over this. I didn’t ask him to do that, we agreed we weren’t ready for a dog. Ugh, oh my god, anyways, we just didn’t work together. Sometimes things don’t work out, Mom. You’ll still get grandkids, just not from me.” You patted her on the shoulder but she just pursed her lips and looked past you to your aunt.

You wanted nothing more than to get wasted but you couldn’t do that to your sister. You wouldn’t get blackout drunk, but you were definitely getting drunk tonight. The reception was being held in a hotel and the wedding party had a block of rooms reserved so it’s not like you had to drive. You just had one thing to do before you did that.

The moment you’d been dreading had finally arrived, the toast. You held your freshly topped-off glass of champagne and brought your fork to it to get everyone’s attention. Someone handed you the mic and you hesitated before taking it and nervously cleared your throat.

By what you assumed could only be the grace of God you managed to deliver the perfect toast about finding the right person and soulmates and anything else you might find in a hallmark card with only minor stumbles. Everyone clapped and your brother-in-law wiped a stray tear and everyone finally dug into dinner. You just hoped that would mean your mother would be quiet about Steve for the next 20 minutes and then you could escape to the open bar.

____

You almost made it through dinner scott-free and sat back to watch your sister’s first dance. Just when you thought you were in the clear it was your aunt that threw a wrench in your plans. She was three glasses of wine deep and had that glassy look in her eye when she grabbed your elbow and pulled you closer. She spoke to you in a low voice while trying not to fumble her words.

“Listen kiddo, I know your mom is hard on you about Stevie but she just wants what’s best for you. What you two had… it was so good even I liked him! I don’t like anybody y’know that. So.. so why don’t you jus’ give ‘im another chance, make your mom happy? Couldn’t be that bad, could it? Maybe he’ll even… surprise you”

You mentally blocked out her words halfway through her speech, hoping neither of you would remember it by the end of the night. Right now you just had to get her to stop so you could get away from the table. You didn’t think you could take one more second of being shamed for leaving Steve.

You smiled sweetly and nodded in understanding towards her words.

“I know, Aunt Linda. I know. Sometimes things happen, I love mom but I’ll find someone else.”

With that you patted her on the shoulder and took off in search of the bar.

There were two bars and you wanted to go to the less crowded one. Looking around you had spotted it just past the dancefloor and made a beeline. Weaving through the now open dance floor and escaping the invitations to join your family you finally made it and leaned heavily against the countertop with a sigh.

“Rough night?” Your eyes follow the gruff yet amused voice and find that it belongs to a very handsome man with a defined jaw, clear blue eyes, and long hair that was tied back.

You smiled and rolled your eyes.

“You don’t know that half of it. Nothing like a wedding to remind you how single you are” You joked.

“Ah. Yeah, that’ll do it. That’s rough. You look like you need a drink, what can I get you?”

“Dealer’s choice. Just no vodka.” You requested.

He smirked and nodded, perusing the lines of bottles that were in front of him. He bit his lip as he concentrated on what to make and you tried not to stare. You watched him get to work on your drink and couldn’t help but notice the way you could see his muscles move underneath his dress shirt.

He turned back around and proudly presented you with something fizzy in a highball glass.

“My own concoction, I even used the non-watered down liquor. Just for you” He says with a wink.

You try your best to hide your shy smile and accept the drink.

“Thank you, how sweet of you.” You tell him.

“It’s nothin’. So how’s a gal like you single? If you don’t mind my asking. Seems pretty impossible to me.”

You're caught somewhere between flattery and embarrassment and just hope it doesn't show on your face. You take a long sip of your drink and gear up to answer him.

“Well, I just got out of a 4 year relationship, actually. He’s really sweet but he always had a tendency to steamroll my needs and just do whatever he was going to do. Eventually that shit adds up.” You sigh.

“Like for example - last year we had talked about getting a dog and I said I wasn’t ready, we’re just both way too busy and then on Christmas day he shows up with this puppy! And then I’m the villain for telling him no! The puppy ended up going to a good home but he did stuff like that all the time. It just became too much. Anyways now my mom won’t get off my ass about leaving him.” You shook your head.

“A puppy? Wow, that’s… intense. That’s a lot, I’m sorry. You finish that drink and I’ll pour us both a shot” He laughed.

You nodded in agreement and downed the rest of the cocktail. He held up two shot glasses and extended one to you.

“A toast, to… wait. I don’t even know your name!”

His shoulders shook as he laughed and he answered you.

“I’m James but you can call me Bucky” You made a face at that.

“What kinda name is Bucky?” You asked before giving him your own name.

“Whatever, I’ve got two shots of tequila, you want one or not?” How could you say no?

“A toast,” You continued, “To you and your weird name, Bucky.”

He laughed and you clinked your glasses together, then against the counter before downing them in one go. You tried your best not to make a face and looked up at Bucky to find him extending you the lime chaser, which you took gratefully.

“Hoo… I could use like, 3 more of those to get through tonight. So, how’d you get into bartending?”

“I needed somethin’ to put me through school and I figured this beats stripping. Though, with some of the customers we get sometimes I’m not so sure”

You laughed at that and Bucky went on to tell you anecdotes of all the crazy people he’s had to serve, disastrous weddings, and the time he got a lapdance from the bride herself. You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed but you were enjoying talking to him, forgetting your mission to be drunk.

The two of you kept swapping stories and were getting to know each other a bit more. He let you vent about Steve and just listened, it was refreshing to talk to someone and not be told what it is that you should be wanting. When you pictured the night you didn’t picture yourself confiding in the bartender tonight but if you were honest you were enjoying yourself. It beat awkwardly dancing with your family and enduring more disappointed remarks from your family.

You had hoped you could hide out at the bar and spend the entire night unscathed when the double doors to the ballroom opened. Your heartbeat in your ears as time slowed down around you as a blond head of hair made its way through the archway. Your laughter died in your throat when Baby blue eyes found you across the room and you froze like a deer in headlights. No. Nononononono this isn’t happening.

Time has somehow come to a halt while simultaneously hurtling forward since you can’t get yourself unstuck from this moment yet fail to realize that Steve is now standing right in front of you. His hair is swept back perfectly and he flashes you that million dollar smile of his that shows off his dimples perfectly. You scold yourself for checking him out but damn did he always clean up nice.

“Hey, sweetheart” he says shyly, as if he’s not crashing your sister’s wedding to get with you.

“What…? What are you doing… here?” You ask quietly, trying to avoid a scene.

Before he can answer you your mom comes up behind Steve and squeezes his shoulders tight, all with a big, bright smile on her face. Of course. How did I not see this coming?

“You made it!” She exclaimed as she leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Of course, sorry to have missed the ceremony but there’s still plenty to celebrate, right?” He asked with his signature boyish smirk.

Shock was still in full effect on your features as you stood stock still. But that shock was soon giving way to anger as you slowly pieced together everything that was happening. Your mom had brought back Steve to try and get you back together and Steve was steamrolling you again.

“I… I, can’t. I can’t-” You started

“Sweetheart, how many of those have you had? You need some water.” Steve motions to the drink in your hand and you feel the anger running through your veins about to take over. You have to move this out of the room. Now.

“Why don’t we move this to the hall?” You suggested quietly.

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you started moving towards the exit but you did spare one last panicked glance towards Bucky. He looked confused and his brows were quirked in a way that made him look upset, almost. You sent him a pleading look before turning back around and preparing yourself to deal with this shitshow that had slowly unfolded before you.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Hold. You got this. Your hand begins to push the door open when Steve’s much larger one covers yours and gets the job done. An action that you once would’ve thought was sweet, one that you would’ve made you swoon, even, is currently pissing you off.

You two made your way to the hallway and you looked around before you started in on him.

“Okay, what the hell, Rogers? Crashing my sister’s wedding? Really?! I don’t give a shit if my mom put you up to this I-”

“Sweetheart, please. She thought you might be having second thoughts and maybe us seeing each other would… patch things up. We just want what’s best for you, sweetheart” Steve attempted to console you, reaching out to try and rub your arm but you pulled back.

“No! I am so sick of you running me over! You never listened to me or what I had to say and this is exactly why I broke up with you, Steve! You’re being so fucki-”

“Hey, babe, everything okay out here?” Bucky’s voice surprised you but not as much as his lips pressing a kiss into your hair and his arms wrapping around your waist.

You had to crane your neck to look back and up at him. It took all of two seconds for you to piece together what you’d hoped was the truth. Bucky raised his eyebrows at you as if to say “come on” and in all your desperation you went with it. You supposed that his formal uniform made him pass for a regular guest.

“I, ah, yeah, yes. Steve here was just leaving, right?” You asked him.

Steve raised his eyebrows in a stunned expression, mouth slightly open in disbelief. His hand reached out towards your shoulder but Bucky pulled you back gently.

“Doll, are you serious? Who even is this guy? Does your mom know about this?”

“No, she doesn’t. It’s… new…” You told him.

“Right,” Bucky cuts in, “It’s new so we weren’t telling anyone just yet but she figured I should at least be here for the reception”

“Seriously?” Steve scoffs, “Man bun? What does he have that I don’t? C’mon, you know what you and I have is real.”

“What you and I have is over, Steve. You never listened to me, always pushed me further than I was ready for. We’re done, it’s over. I’m sorry for whatever Mom told you”

Steve took a harsh breath inwards and you watched him try to decide whether he should walk away or blow up. Based off of the veins popping in his forehead, he was opting to blow up.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re up to but-”

“She said it’s over, punk. Move along” Bucky cut in. He took a protective step in front of you and pushed his shoulders back, squaring up to Steve. Steve seethed quietly and you two exchanged very tense glances.

“I’m telling your mother about this. I doubt she’ll be happy to hear you brought some random person to your sister’s wedding.” Steve spat.

He walked past the two of you and bumped shoulders harshly with Bucky. Bucky’s jaw tensed and his grip on your waist tightened but he didn’t retaliate. Instead he took a step back to get a proper look at you.

“You okay?”

“Why did you do that? You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but you looked like you could really use the help.”

“Well… thank you. I appreciate it, more than you know. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.” You laughed to yourself a little and added, “We’re not even together 5 minutes and you already have all my emotional baggage”

Bucky laughed at that and shook his head.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ve got some crazy exes too. So what now? You going back in?”

You became a little flustered at that but moved past it with a sheepish grin.

“No,” You shook your head, “I think it’s best for everyone if I just go up to my room and avoid a whole scene.”

“Well at least let me walk you up. I wouldn’t put it past that creep to follow you.”

“What about the bar?”

“We’re overstaffed and the party’s winding down anyways. They’ll get on without me”

“Alright then” You accepted and started off towards the elevators.

You two were standing in the elevator waiting for the doors to close when you spotted the doors to the ballroom open. Your mother was looking around, her face a picture of anger. Lucky for you the doors closed before she could look in your direction and you let out a sigh of relief.

“You know as far as fake boyfriends go I’d say you’re pretty good”

“Just good? C’mon I had that guy on the ropes.”

“Yeah alright,” You relented with a grin.

You exited the elevator car and made your way down the hallway until finally you reached your door. You fished your keycard out of your wallet and turned to Bucky.

“Hey… do you wanna… maybe come in? Hang out? I know you’ve got work but if you’re overstaffed maybe…” You trailed off. There was a beat of silence and you felt regret instantly, thinking you’ve asked too much of him. “Y’know what nevermind, you don’t have to, I’m sorry I-”

“I’d love to hang out with you, if you’re okay with that. Plus it’s probably better I wait to get back until the wedding’s over. Can’t really show my face as your boyfriend and then get back behind the bar, can I?” He said with a soft smile.

“Suppose you’re right,” You swiped the card and cracked open the door.

You stepped inside and felt like you could finally breathe again. You kicked off your heels and went to turn on the lights. You reached back to get the zipper of your dress but couldn’t quite get there.

“Will you get my zipper?” You asked Bucky. He nodded and came closer to you.

You could feel his warmth radiating from him when he was this close. Your nostrils filled with the heady scent of his aftershave. He smells so good. He unzipped you halfway and left the rest for you.

You thanked him and grabbed your change of clothes and headed to the bathroom. Relieved to finally be free of the itchy monstrosity of a bridesmaids dress you sighed and put on a tank top and pair of shorts. You realized the tank top showed a little more of your cleavage than intended but you shrugged it off and exited the bathroom.

Bucky’s eyes landed on you and he took a sharp breath in but tried to play it cool. It half worked, you caught him staring a little bit and giggled to yourself. When you looked at him again he was undoing his tie and the first two buttons of his shirt. Wonder what he’d look like if he unbuttoned just a few more… You stopped yourself in that line of thinking and joined him on the couch.

“I think your phone’s gonna zap itself into an early grave with the way it’s been going off” Bucky said as he pointed to your phone on the table.

You picked it up to find you had several missed calls from your mother, one from Steve, and one very long text message from him that was already inducing a headache. You opened it, forgetting you had read receipts on. Oops. You weren’t going to read this now in front of Bucky, so you shut it off and put it aside.

“So how are you feelin’?” He asked.

“Better now that I’m out that damned dress. As for my family, they'll get over themselves. I don’t know why who I’m dating is such a big deal to them anyways.”

“You do look more comfy now that you’ve changed. If you don’t mind me sayin’ you’re just as gorgeous now as you were all dolled up”

You felt heat flood your cheeks instantly and eked out a thank you. You and Bucky talked for an hour more or so and in that time you’d found yourself nodding off with your head on his chest. On instinct he brought your whole body closer to him and put his arm around you. If you were less sleepy you’d be embarrassed but right now you didn’t care.

Bucky had moved slightly and inadvertently jolted you awake. You shot up and realized that you’d cuddled your way into Bucky’s side and now the embarrassment was catching up with you. You instantly scooted back to give him some space.

“Sorry, I uh, didn’t mean to cuddle you” You said while avoiding his gaze.

You felt a hand on your thigh and finally looked up to find him smirking at you.

“I didn’t mind it. It’s getting late though, I should get back.”

You were slightly disappointed but nodded your head. You rose and followed him to the door. He went for the handle but turned around when you grabbed his hand. He stepped away from the door and was in your personal space. You looked up at him with a shaky breath.

“Thank you, again, for what you did. It was really sweet of you.” He smiled down at you and brought one hand to your face. Oh God, I didn’t prepare for this. Your heart was beating just a little harder as you looked into his clear blue eyes.

“For you? Anytime. I had a really fun time with you tonight.”

“Me too.”

With that his other hand came up to cup your face and he kissed you sweetly. It wasn’t until you kissed him back that he pulled away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I don’t wanna make you uncomf-”

You grabbed him by the shirt collar and brought him in for another kiss. This time more demanding but just as sweet. He let out a small moan and you swear you could’ve melted. His tongue explored your mouth while his hands moved their way down your body and brought you even closer to him. You could feel that he was hard and it only made you want him more.

Without breaking the kiss you started to move backwards towards the bed until finally you were just at the edge of it. You broke apart for air and searched his eyes only to find his pupils blown wide in lust. You cupped him through his pants and he groaned. He was big. Maybe even bigger than Steve.

“We don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want to do,” He breathed out. You shook your head and kissed him again.

“I want you, I’m sure.” You panted out.

“I don’t have a condom”

“Doesn’ matter, I’m on the pill” You told him. With that his hands were up your tank top and you’d helped him to remove it. He worked on his shirt next and while he fumbled with the buttons you took off the rest of your clothing.

Bucky was every bit as devastating as you’d thought he’d be and you let out a genuine sigh. His toned muscles rippled throughout his arms and torso and you watched him remove his boxers and you’re not entirely sure your jaw hadn’t dropped. He noticed you gawking and chuckled as he leaned down to join you on the bed.

“See somethin’ you like?”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer though, he pushed you backwards onto the bed and kissed you again, this time trailing his kisses all the way down your body. He stopped and took his time to admire each of your breasts, licking and biting your nipples. You’d gasped in surprise and pleasure. He moved his way down finally to your pussy and looked up at you.

“Can I? You could only nod and let out a shaky breath as you sat up on your elbows and watched him get to work. He kissed and caressed your thighs until finally his fingers were prodding at your entrance. He groaned at how wet you were and pushed two fingers in. You let out an obscene moan and your hands went into his locks. His tongue lapped at your clit before he sucked on it, all the while pumping his fingers in and out of you in search of your G-spot.

You’d pulled his hair out of his bun and guided his tongue where he needed to be. Finally getting the right angle you were whimpering in pleasure, back arched almost to a point of pain. He’d finally found the spot he’d been looking for and your eyes shut closed in pleasure.

“Please,” you begged, “Please don’t stop I’m so close”

You pushed his head harder against you and his fingers sped up. It was only a matter of moments until your toes were curling in pleasure and you writhed on the bed in the aftershock of your orgasm. Bucky continued to lap away at you until you pushed him off. He came back up to eye level with you and had a wolfish grin.

“Who knew you’d make such noises? God it was so hot”

You pulled him in for another kiss and reached down to grab his cock. You pumped it a few times before you moved down to return the favor when he stopped you. You looked up at him with brows pinched in concern.

“Don’ worry about me, I just wanna feel you”

He moved you beneath him and you spread your legs apart for him. You were still sensitive in your post-high when his tip brushed your clit but you didn’t mind the bolt of pleasure. He aligned himself with your entrance and looked you in the eye as he pushed all the way inside of you slowly. You let out an involuntary moan, trying to accommodate his full length.

“You good?” He asked.

“I’m good, you’re just...big” He smirked at that.

“Can I move or do you need a second?”

“No, you can move, please move.”

One hand on your hip and the other on your breast he started thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. You swore you could feel every bump and ridge of him with every inch he put into you. His pace picked up and he kissed the column of your neck, finding the one spot that drove you crazy. Your small mewls turned to full moans and he began fucking you harder.

“‘M not gonna last much longer” He told you. You didn’t say anything in response, just brought him in for another kiss and grabbed a handful of his ass to push him further inside you. He chuckled at that and took the hint.

He was going the hardest he had so far and you were holding on for dear life and loving every minute of it. His panting breaths were heavy in your ears and you reached down to toy with your clit so you’d cum together. His thrusts were getting a little sloppier and your hand moved faster, quickly approaching both your peaks. He let out an almost pornographic moan as he came, He fucked you through his orgasm and not a moment later you came for a second time. Your bodies melded together as you rode out the last waves of each other’s orgasms.

Finally Bucky stopped and held himself with one hand, trying to catch his breath. You were slightly dazed, trying to compute how your night had ended up like this. Bucky rolled over onto the bed and you felt the mess between your thighs. You looked over to him with a hazy smile.

“So, I know we’re doin’ things a little backwards here but, maybe I could take you out some time? If you want?”

Your smile grew even wider and your heart felt so light in this moment.

“I’d like that”

You didn’t know what tomorrow would hold or how to even begin cleaning up the mess with your family. You’d deal with it all in the morning, for now you’d just bask in the afterglow with your fake boyfriend and be grateful for chance meetings.

#missys writing challenge #bucky barnes x reader #bartender!bucky #fake dating #marvel fic #marvel au #marvel x reader #smut #bucky barnes fic #fluff #slight angst

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existslikepristin · 3 years

Text

What A... Bummer

Desc: The fic that (sort of) started it all. Sorry for the funky formatting, as this was mostly just copy/pasted from Discord, where I ran the polls. You may also find it here if you prefer AFF: https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1462191/what-a-bummer-aka-i-m-so-sorry

Tags: TheLounge, Gfriend, Eunha, Yerin, maleOC"you", mostly butt things, angry bunny, vote story, backlog story

~~~~~

You knock on the dressing room door. Just inside is your Gfriend... as in "good friend" Eunha. Today is a very exciting day, and it's been a long time coming. She released her first solo album at midnight and she was at the first show where she would perform it live in front of a camera.

The two of you have been close... "good friends," as they say, for a while now. And you managed to convince security to let you in so you could give her a gift before she goes on stage. After all, you're proud of her accomplishment!

You hear shuffling inside the room and know she's on her way over. You really hope she likes the present!

What was the present again?

Options: 1. Champagne, baby! You got the expensive stuff! 2. A basket of healthy fruits! You're wholesome as fuck! 3. Your buddy Yerin! Can't celebrate without a good laugh! 4. (Picked:) A buttplug?! Who the fuck do you think you are?

~~~~~

You hold the box behind yourself as the door opens. Just inside is your buddy Eunha, all by herself. Not a surprise since you saw her manager downstairs earlier.

And she looks awesome. Her hair is cut short again, just to her jawline, but instead of curling in like her normal bob, it flares out at the bottom. She's got on a white shirt, cut low enough to just tease at her cleavage (even though you happen to know she's hardly got any cleavage without the pushup). Below she's wearing a super short black skirt, with a slit on one side that nearly reaches her hip bone, but her safety shorts hide the real goods. You know she has some tall black heels for this outfit since you were there when her stylist picked them out, but she's barefoot for now, nails on her fingers and toes painted all black.

She shouts happily and jumps up to wrap her arms around you as soon as she sees you. You barely manage to keep her from dragging you down to the floor, putting your arms around her too. "You came!"

"Of course I did!" you shout, "Congratulations!"

The top of her head barely reaches your chin while she's on her toes. She nuzzles her head into your neck. Her hair dresser would flip her shit, but it's okay if it's just for a second, right?

She suddenly grabs the box from your hand. The sly little idol.

"Yerin told me you were bringing me a present. I thought she might be lying, but..."

Eunha tears the wrapping off the box. You'd be a little offended, but you did the same thing to the last birthday gift she got you.

"Now... what am I supposed to do with this thing?"

Eunha holds up the butt plug. You grin, recognizing the excellence of the thing. Stainless steel, polished like a mirror, a bright red gemstone embedded into it (and yeah, you got a real gem for it), and big. Real big.

Options: 1. (Picked:) "You keep it inside you, once I help put it there." 2. "WOAH. That's not what I thought it was, I swear! Yerin tricked me!" 3. "How the fuck should I know?"

~~~~~

"What are you supposed to do with it?" you ask as you take a couple steps forward.

"You keep it inside you, once I help put it there."

Eunha puts the butt plug up to her mouth. "Like this?" She licks it and puts it in her mouth, as far as she can at least. She looks up into your eyes, looking as innocent as she can. You would almost buy the stupid act too, but you know she's got somewhere to be.

You grab her by the shoulders and spin her around. Then you drop to your knees so your face is directly next to her ass. It takes up your whole field of vision. But still, there's no time to waste. You grab the sides of her safety shorts and yank down. As expected, there's nothing underneath and you can instantly spread her glorious cheeks to be greeted by...

Oh damn, she's already got a plug in.

Eunha giggles above you. "Don't worry. I like yours better. Help me swap them and you can keep that one."

Not a bad solution.

The plug takes a little work to get out. Eunha half-moans, half-laughs as you wiggle it back and forth to get it moving. She reaches back to spread her ass cheeks to give you better access and a fantastic view.

And eventually, with a little pop, the plug comes out. It's much smaller than the one you brought, made of silicon, and much more boring.

You stand and hold it in front of Eunha. She instantly sticks her tongue out to lick off the lube.

"It's almost like you've done this before, isn't it?" you ask with a smirk.

"It's almost like you know that personally," she says over her shoulder.

You take the brand new butt plug out of her hand and get back on your knees. Eunha instinctively spreads her ass again. You can still see some of the glistening of the lube that was there for the last plug, so it's probably at least safe to put the new one in without anything extra. Then again, the new butt plug is pretty big...

1. (Picked:) Stick it in rough. This might mess up her performance, getting you a punishment later. 2. Give her a good lube up with your tongue first. You know from experience that she loves this, and you'll be well rewarded later.

~~~~~

You know, you and Eunha have been good friends for quite a while now. How bad would it really be if you messed up her performance just this once... And besides, her cute, tiny little asshole just needs a real good stretch sometimes right?

Right.

Eunha waves her ass from side to side, bent over a bit, mostly for the presentation. "I'm ready for it. What are you waiting for?"

Well, she said it! You line up the top of the plug at her lube-short hole, earning you a sultry giggle from the idol. You give it a slow twist to one side, the other side, brace your elbow, and shove like you've never shoved before.

You're not quite sure whether or not you were successful. It seems like time slowed down... You felt the tension of her ass resisting the plug up to the widest part, followed by it giving way as it tapered back down. But that only took a second or so, and Eunha didn't react. The dressing room is dead silent.

Then, Eunha falls to the floor. To her knees, then onto her hands. You're more than a little worried, so you move to her side to see her face. Her mouth is open like she's screaming, but there's still no sound, until she whispers, "What... the f-f-fuck... is wrong with you?"

Her eyes slowly turn in your direction so you give her your biggest, winning smile. But there's fire in her eyes. You're suddenly feeling like you may have made a bad choice.

There's a knock on the door and a voice comes through, "Eunha? We'll be starting your stage in five minut--"

"I'LL BE RIGHT THERE!" Eunha screams. You hear the PA muttering as they walk away.

You open your mouth to say something, but you forget what it was when you get smacked in the jaw. Eunha is still holding herself with one hand, but the other is floating menacingly next to your face, nails looking beautiful but also ready to tear you apart.

Clearly trying to compose herself, Eunha lowers her head and whispers again, "Go find Yerin... and wait for the stage... now."

It's probably best not to argue. You get up and and make your way to the door. You turn back to look at her though. She hasn't really moved, and you get a great look at her thicc ass sticking into the air with your plug poking out from between her cheeks.

You know for sure you're going to get punished later, but you think maybe you should say something?

Options: 1. Apologize. You can admit, you fucked up. You'll still get punished, but maybe she'll go easy on you? 2. (Picked:) Never mind, say nothing. You'll obviously just make it worse. 3. Just laugh. Eunha doesn't have connections to any hitmen, does she?

~~~~~

For the sake of your personal safety, you think it's probably best to just go. You slip through the door quickly so nobody can see through the door and make your way to the stage.

Yerin is pretty easy to pick out of the crowd for you, as she's wearing her usual thick sweatshirt, plain jeans, tennis shoes, hat, facemask, and glasses that make it impossible for her to be recognized in public. She's in the back of the crowd, holding a gigantic sign that says "I LOVE YOU EUNHA I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES" as a joke. You remember the first time she said that was when Eunha was fucking her with a strap on. It looks like everyone in the crowd is too busy practicing their fanchant to really notice the overtly sexual (and nonsense) sign.

"Yo slut," you casually say as you walk up next to her.

"About time you got here whore," she says back, clearly grinning mischievously behind the mask. You smirk back.

"So, did she like her gift?"

Your smirk fades, "Uuuh. You know, she will probably have to tell you that herself."

"Mmm, I will. And then I'll take it out of her, put it back in and lick all around it... ugh, I'm so wound up. Hey. If I masturbated while we watch the stage, would you keep an eye out so I don't get caught?"

Options: 1. "Of course! I've always got your back my dude." 2. (Picked:) "You want to do it yourself? But I'm right here." 3. "Woah, Yerin. Don't be so weird. Just enjoy the show like a normal person. Sheesh."

~~~~~

You give Yerin a smirk and move behind her. She points at her eyes and swings her hand in a circle, her nerdy way of telling you to keep watch. You get the feeling she'll enjoy what you have in mind.

After a couple of minutes go by, the fans scream as the stage hands walk off and the lights go dim. You and Yerin join them in the cheer, welcoming your hot little buddy into the spotlight. Yerin holds her sign high and shouts her support.

As the lights come back up, you see Eunha, cool and calm like the professional she is, with her backup dancers. You're a little surprised (and slightly disappointed) at her exceptional composure.

The first note of the song hits and the crowd instantly shuts up, ready to fanchant like hell. That's when you seize the chance to shove your hand down the back of Yerin's jeans and pop the still-lubed butt plug (the one you took out of Eunha earlier and never did get rid of) into Yerin's ass. It slides in like butt...er.

Eunha jumps into her dance and Yerin jumps up and down with the music with no regard for your hand down her pants. You feel like you might get a rash. But either way, you soldier on and reach in further, until you can touch her clit.

There's one move in Eunha's dance that draws a big gasp from the crowd, where she bends over and presents her ass. Her safety shorts hide the butt plug... for anyone who isn't paying close attention. They aren't especially good at hiding how deep the crack of her ass is, and there's just one very slightly bulged out part.

Yerin moans back at you, "Holy shit, she is so fucking hot up there," as she grinds herself down against your hand, drowning your fingers in her juices. "I just want to sit on her face, pull her legs back and pump a dildo into her helpless butt."

You smile at the thought. Maybe Yerin will be on your side if Eunha is still angry when you meet back up, considering that she also wants to destroy Eunha's asshole.

Yerin doesn't quite cum before the song is over. You take your hand out of her pants just in time not to be seen by all of the fans turning around to leave. She groans in frustration.

"Let's run to the dressing room and see if she can finish me off. I was so close!"

Options: 1. "Hey wait. She might be a little mad. I may have done something a little mean..." 2. (Picked:) "Yeah, definitely! Let's go get those shorts off her!"

~~~~~

You confidently walk through the halls next to Yerin. The whole time, Yerin bounces up and down, distracting you with the constant thought of ass. A couple times she even turns her head, sees you staring, winks, and spanks herself. You forget entirely about the confession you considered making.

Once at the dressing room, you see that the door is already open. Weird?

Yerin jumps through the door and shouts "YEAH EUNHA!"

The display of enthusiasm is met with silence. Yerin scratches her head and walks further into the room. "Maybe her mic got stuck in her hair?" she ponders.

You walk in too. You're about to comment, but there's a sudden sharp pain in the back of your neck. You attempt to put your hand up to slap at whatever bug got in here, but your hand just falls limp. So do your legs. And your vision goes dark as you vaguely feel yourself falling to the floor.

* * *

"He's waking up," you hear a garbled voice say. All you can see are blurry shapes as you open your eyes, but they come into focus very slowly.

"Don't stop!" another garbled voice shouts, making you suddenly feel a pounding in your head. Did you go too hard on some vodka?

The voices (or just one voice really) start clearing up. You hear Yerin moaning, turning slowly into a scream. And eventually your eyes confirm it.

About ten feet in front of you, Yerin's face and torso are pressed against a bed, with her butt held up against Eunha's face. Her legs are trembling wildly. Eunha's hands are gripping Yerin's hips tight, her eyes are closed, and her legs are folded underneath her. They're both entirely naked, and you have a side view of it all.

It would be a little more exciting if you weren't chained by the legs and wrists to a wooden chair.

And you look down to see that you're naked too, other than some kind of device locked very uncomfortably around your dick.

There's a thud as Eunha drops Yerin onto the bed. Yerin is apparently exhausted by the orgasm she just had, because she's not moving.

Eunha shakes her head to refluff her hair that was being pressed against her cheeks and looks at you.

"Good morning," she says blandly.

You try to respond but your tongue feels weird and doesn't move properly so you kind of just blubber.

Eunha slides off the bed and takes a few steps to stand right in front of you. A tiny drop of her cum falls from her pussy onto your knee. Damn, they must have been at this for a while.

Her entire body is bare in front of you, practically on top of you, and it's so incredibly sexy. Under normal circumstances, this is when she would sit down and ride you for hours. But she isn't sitting down, and your dick is being painfully stopped from getting hard by the contraption it's in.

"So... do you have anything to say now?"

Options: 1. Yup. Apologize. 2. (Picked:) Yeah, you enjoyed her solo debut! 3. Nope. Nothing to say. 4. Yes.. BeGONE, THOT

~~~~~

You smirk, ever so slightly unsure of yourself, or if what you're saying is a good idea. The corner of your mouth trembles as you say, "Yeah, I really liked your solo debut. You did great up there."

Eunha leans over, putting her hands on the back of the chair you're tied to. It would be a great chance to stare at her perky little titties up close if her threatening gaze wasn't holding your eyes. Her face comes in closer. You can feel her fuming hot nose breaths on your forehead. Your own breath is caught in your throat, and your lungs start to burn with how long she stares you down.

"Be glad I'm a professional. And thanks," she says, very flatly.

As she stands back up and turns away from you, and you release a huge sigh of relief.

"Yerin, over here please. I'm going to need your tongue in my ass."

With a groan, Yerin rolls off the bed and crawls to Eunha, kneeling between her and you. Eunha leans forward, putting her hands on the bed for support. If there was any question about what your punishment was before now, it was pretty clear now.

Eunha spreads her ass, her perfectly painted black nails creating a frame for the asshole you love so much. It's only a few feet away from you. You can feel your dick trying to harden but the cage just makes it... well it doesn't hurt, but it's extremely uncomfortable.

And then Yerin's head appears between you and that beautiful butt. Her hands grip onto the backs of Eunha's thighs, squeezing the flawless flesh as if she were trying to hold herself up on the edge of a cliff. You know the exact moment when Yerin's tongue meets Eunha's ass. The shorty has a very characteristic half-squeal-half-moan that comes out of her every time something wet touches it. You might have thought you could look away to stop the discomfort in your cock, but that sound brings back too many memories of your entire face being buried in those cheeks.

"Oh... Oh yes. Good girl."

You watch as Eunha slowly pushes back against Yerin's face, over and over. It lasts for hours? Days? You could never tell. Her squeals and encouragement get louder, more urgent. You can't help but let out a quiet groan of your own.

But like the rabbit she is, Eunha heard. She twists her upper body to look at you without disturbing Yerin. "What was that? Do you want to fuck this ass? Do you-- fuck..."

Her eyes screw shut as a brief shiver of pleasure runs through her body. You can see her legs quaking for a moment. She's close.

"Do you want Yerin's pretty little mouth to dip up and down on your cock to lube you up for-- fffuck!"

Again, a shiver. It's longer this time, and Eunha almost falls, her feet sliding a few inches farther apart before she catches herself. There's a loud slurping noise as Yerin moves to accomodate the change and gets a much needed breath of air.

One of Eunha's hands shoots to her inner thigh and you can barely see past Yerin's shoulder that she's squeezing herself tight. She would often remind you about how she would do that to make her orgasms more intense, so now you know exactly what (or rather, who) is coming.

Even so, she manages to gasp out nearly a full sentence, "You want my ass clenching around your cock when--" The last word melts into one long squeal and trails off from there into a silent scream. Her whole body shakes violently except where Yerin is holding her down tight.

You could swear it lasts for a whole minute. Agonizing for you and Eunha in different ways. But when she collapses face first onto the bed, her knees hitting the floor softly as Yerin guides her down, it's over. Except for the few extra twitches when Yerin gives her ass a couple of licks. You release a long breath that you didn't even realize you were holding.

Yerin climbs up to cuddle Eunha from behind, kissing her neck, shoulders, and back. The two of them giggle lightly at the gentle touches, making no move to point their beautiful, still-wet asses away from you.

"Time for your fanmeet?" Yerin asks softly after a minute or two.

Eunha sighs and pulls herself away from Yerin. "Yes, I guess we should get going."

As you expected, you're not getting any. At least not soon. You casually watch the members making their way around the room, collecting their clothes and getting dressed back up.

And notably, not untying you.

"That sure was amazing," you say, suddenly nervous, "Maybe I should help set up the chairs for the fanmeet?"

Yerin chuckles, "They're already set up, man."

"But... the audio right? You know? Do some mic checks?"

Eunha stands in front of a mirror, brushing her hair to get it back to looking presentable. "Oh that's fine. Manager's taken care of it."

You struggle to think of something else to say, or to think of what's about to happen.

"But don't worry," Eunha struts over to you and pats your knee, "SinB will be coming in after the fanmeet to let you go."

You groan. SinB rejects you any time she thinks it would be funny, which is literally every time. She probably won't even unlock the cage on your dick.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Eunha smooches your forehead like you're a pet she's leaving home for the day, and then drops a key down her shirt and into her bra. It's not hard to guess what the key is for. "And when I do, I'll have cheered up, and I'll bounce on your cock harder than you can imagine."

Yerin draws in a sharp breath somewhere behind you. She's probably planning on being around whenever that happens. You can't help but look forward to it, though it sounds like twenty-four hours of torture for you until then.

The lovely ladies zip out of the room before you can get in another word, leaving you to the inevitable humiliation SinB will have for you... in an hour or two.

THE END

#gfriend smut #kpop smut #eunha #yerin #male reader insert

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saladejin · 4 years

Text

Admire | 05

Seokjin x Fem!Reader | arranged marriage!au, husband!Seokjin | Strangers to lovers, angst, self discovery, loneliness in luxury, touch starvation (eventual smut), eventual domestic fluff

Summary: You’d never needed anyone else. Growing up alone, living alone, existing alone. It all came naturally and effortlessly, quite like breathing. That was until your somewhat distant parents finally decided it was time to make good on a promise. One they’d made before you were even born.

Warnings: Some depressing and painful talk but nothing crazy, a few fluffy and domestic-ish moments for u all, and oh ... there’s only one bed? O_o

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This is so different from what it used to be, wow. I was out here changing entire paragraphs lol, but anyway sorry if there are any mistakes! Let me know your thoughts at the end :)

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The road fell away in front of you as you scrolled mindlessly on your phone. After a round of brusque insistence on his behalf, you'd finally given in and let Seokjin convince you into relinquishing the driver's seat after a couple of hours on the road. You made sure to grumble in protest before plonking yourself down on the passenger side, him brushing you off easily.

You’d put the memory of the thoughtless kiss to the back of your mind, hoping that he’d forgotten just as swiftly. You were here to enjoy your trip, not to overthink about what had happened in the past. Thinking back on the past 24 hours, you sighed in defeat.

Let’s hope we don’t crash.

*hours earlier*

You both arrived at the meeting place after countless attempts of stuttering out the most confusing directions to the driver. At this point, you almost wanted to pass out and it was still relatively early.

Managing to greet all your aunties, uncles, and cousins as a couple of lovebirds came effortlessly enough. It was nothing but a way of life for you and Seokjin these days.

“(Y/n) you’ve grown so much. Oh, I’m going to cry!”

You tried to calm one of your more eccentric aunties while your husband stood awkwardly to the side, looking around at the gathered group of people in contemplation. Dressed casually again, he hadn’t been prepared for the sheer number of everyday individuals preparing to depart. All beside a line of large black and white motorhomes which were currently fuelling up under the shade of nearby woodland.

Once the two of you finally managed to break away from the introductions and reunions, you let out a sigh of relief. You were finally alone, sinking into the refurbished leather seats of the vehicle to regain your composure. Dealing with a horde of chipper relatives can deplete one’s energy like a starved leech if it continues for too long.

“Sorry, they’re just excited.” You laughed airily, leaning forward to switch on the air conditioner. The temperature outside was already heating up from the unforgiving sun, and you were going to positively drown in sweat if you didn’t get some cold air blasting on you lickety-split.

“They’re…lively. But it’s okay, I signed up for it anyway,” the tall man replied with a smirk of his own. He seemed amused at how quickly you'd been swamped, but he also seemed to notice how happy you were at receiving all the attention.

“The first one will probably leave soon. I’ll start driving and then if you want you can switch with me later. We won’t make it to the first stop today, but it’ll most likely end up being late tomorrow morning,” you explained while readying yourself at the wheel of the vehicle. Seokjin hummed in acknowledgement and craned his long neck backwards to ensure your bags were all safe a secure.

You admired how comfortable he looked in his simple travelling clothes. How he could pull off such a simple but effective appearance that highlighted his handsome features, such as his dusky brown eyes and midnight coloured locks of hair - hair that had grown out and gotten nicely longer, you might add - was a complete and utter mystery to you.

“By the way, we don’t have to put on as much of an act here with these people,” you began on a weirdly sombre note, trying not to look over at him for a reaction. “The whole relationship thing doesn’t matter to them as much. They won’t get suspicious or question us, so don’t stress too much about going all out, alright?”

“Okay,” came his simple reply, void of much emotion.

You didn’t know why you expected anything else, but a small part of you longed to continue pretending. You wanted to be with him, wanted to feel his hands on your skin again. It was almost too much for you to handle. You couldn’t imagine anyone else ever feeling so conflicted about their own lover, not to mention having hands on your arms of all places.

Absurd. Right?

Suddenly, the motorhome in front of you began rolling forward and you pressed down slowly on the gas pedal to follow suit. Seokjin twisted his broad shoulders back around to face the front, blinking harshly as the sunlight shone through the windscreen and hit him forcefully in the face.

Your lips quirked up in an amused smirk. What a goof.

*present*

Your eyes drooped with a heavy sleepiness as Seokjin finally pulled the truck into the site where everyone would be camping. The drive had been quite lengthy, but you’d been swapping every few hours or so until you’d become too tired to go on. Being the husband-material he was, Seokjin gladly took the burden of getting you both through the rest of the way.

“Hey wake up, everyone’s getting out for some reason.”

You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and groaned, feeling slightly more energised from your nap but still groggy. You slowly made your way down the steps and outside into the humid air, nostalgic memories finally flowing into your mind as you watched the members of your family collecting around several bright vans.

“Oh, this is the food truck stop,” you rasped out in a matter-of-factly tone, causing Seokjin to eye you in confusion. It was luckily still light enough to catch his dumbfounded expression.

“There are food trucks in this parkland area, so we can go and buy some hot-dogs or something if we want. It’s always the first dinner stop,” you tried to explain mid-yawn. The sky was blending into darkness as the sun began to set below the horizon.

“You’re so sleepy.” Seokjin snorted lowly, almost chuckling when you looked up at him through glaring watery eyes from the yawn, as if it weren’t obvious enough. He looked fairly relaxed, and you gently smiled at the sight of his beautiful eyes lighting up with wonder at the view of the campsite around him.

It was enthralling, how fascinated he was with absolutely everything. Even though the red cap sitting atop his black mop of hair cast a shadow over his face, it was still easy to spot just how eager he was to just enjoy life normally for once. To be a commoner and forget about all the pressed suits he had hanging up at home, the bucket loads of cash sitting in his bank account, the disapproving parents.

Now was the time he could finally taste the sweetness of freedom.

All of a sudden, the tall man left a tap on your shoulder and leaned in close once you faced him curiously. The stuffy fog of sleep was immediately chased away from your whirring mind, and you widened your eyes in shock when one of his hands pulled you closer, indicating what he wanted you to do with a simple touch.

Is he initiating a kiss, for once?

You reacted almost instantly to his subtle body language, everything coming naturally as you stepped in closer and raised your lips to peck his plump ones sweetly. Your whole body was buzzing with eruptions of joy, heat and surprise at the impulse; hands curling into his shirt so that you could feel the warmth of his body even more…for just a little bit longer. It was so rare for him to be bold like this.

For a single second, you forgot what your relationship truly was and felt - for the first time - what it was like to pour your heart into loving another person.

An older man cackled with his friend as they shared a beer together. “My, you young ones are just so passionate, aren’t you?” You swept some hair back behind your ear and ducked your head to hide the embarrassed flush. Or maybe you were trying to hide the stupid smile sitting on your face.

“I’ll get some food for us,” Seokjin said after another few moments of observing the place. You inwardly gaped at him as he moved towards one of the colourful food trucks, wondering if he was going to actually cover you for food.

What's gotten into him? Maybe it’s just because he’s used to putting on a performance, and that it’s such a different setting on top of that.

You shook your head to rid yourself of the fluffy feelings and jogged up to where your dark-haired partner was lining up for hot dogs.

“Do you want me to give you some cash for mine?” you asked hesitantly, gaze imploring for his attention again.

“No, go find a table to sit at,” he murmured, flicking his head upwards to point out a group of empty wooden tables nearby. You were pleasantly surprised at his motive and couldn’t help the way your jaw went slightly slack, simply stunned. Eventually, you complied and headed over towards the seats.

He'd looked so refreshed and so pleased with himself. Even with the weariness brought on by the long and tiresome journey.

The whole area was illuminated by a few atmospheric park lamps, but everyone knew that it would soon grow too dark to stay outside for much longer. Plus, you’d all need a good night’s sleep if you were going to make it to your stop tomorrow. You almost groaned again at the thought of driving so early.

“Here, I forgot to ask what drink you wanted, but you usually like bubbly stuff so I got a soft drink.”

Bit different from champagne, you surmised, but it was cute that he thought like that.

Seokjin placed a can next to where your arm was resting on the tabletop. Then, he held out a delicious looking hot dog sprinkled with fried onion rings, and you couldn’t stop the way your stomach grumbled and growled at the sight.

“I’m a starved woman, thank you.’’

He sat down and glanced around at the groups of people chatting, the strange but somehow never misplaced glimmer of interest never faltering in his eyes. On the other hand, you essentially inhaled the meal in front of you despite how weird it felt to ingest such cheap and fattening food. After months of high-class dining, it was more peculiar than one would think. Even something as unfamiliar as eating such a messy meal didn’t bother either one of you after the day you'd had.

“So, you don’t go around and talk to them much?” Seokjin questioned in a light tone of voice, picking his long and slightly curved fingers clean of any crumbs. The man was picturesque in how calm and concentrated he was. You decided that you liked that look of determination on him, even if it was for something so insignificant.

“I do, but I’m not really in the mood right now.” You sighed, resting your face into your palm so that you could ease the tension in your sore neck. You cast your gaze downwards and hoped that you wouldn’t regret your next words.

“Plus, I kind of want to spend most of my time on this trip with you.”

His eyes stared into yours from across the table, unblinking as he was thrown into one of his strange thoughtful silences.

You rushed to elaborate in a panic. “I-I … well I’ve done this trip many times and I thought it’d be nice to get to know each other a little bit more. We haven’t really asked many questions during the past few months, and I already feel so peaceful travelling together that I thought it’d be cool to just spend some time away from all the parties and shit to really relax and talk, you know?”

Cool? Did I really just say it'd be cool if we talked? Fuck you (Y/n).

You took a rickety breath and clasped both your hands together to try and hide your flustered appearance. With pursed lips and a slight cringe from the ranting accompanying your nerves, you searched his gaze with your own to try your best at reading him.

“Yeah, I know. It would make everything easier if we knew more about each other, so I don’t have to make up more lies,” he eventually spoke after clearing his throat quietly.

You thought he would’ve been more uncomfortable, or rather less than willing to take you up on the suggestion, but you were surprised yet again at his almost enthusiastic response. Was he finally letting you see past the high and sturdy walls he’d built up at the beginning of your relationship? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was coming out of his shell a little as well, but then again it wasn’t as if you knew enough to make that observation in any kind of confidence.

Maybe he's always been more open like this to people he was close with, and you were only just beginning to see this side. Even if that was the case, it made you happy to think that he was starting to trust you enough to change the way he acted. You were content enough to be considered as something close to a friend, at least.

“It’s late. We should head in,” his familiar voice snapped you out of your rampant thoughts, causing your feelings of bewilderment to skyrocket.

I need to keep my shit together!

“Yeah, sorry for spacing out.” You laughed, trying to shrug off the mortification at failing to keep your wits about you. Maybe if he stopped being so oddly charming with his perfect lips and enigmatic eyes, you’d be able to focus a little better.

You made your way to the last motorhome in the line. Seokjin had parked it a little ways from the others, almost as if he’d sensed your need for privacy and solitude. You were somewhat introverted at the best of times, so after a whole day of socialising you really wanted nothing more than to retreat back to your own little space to recuperate.

Had he figured that out, or was it just a lucky guess? Maybe he was just the same…

You followed him into the portable house and weaved yourself around the table and sofa lounges, eventually coming to stop by the comfy looking queen bed at the very back. This was where things would get weird again. You’d never shared a bed before tonight, and the couches weren’t large enough to allow anyone space to sleep either.

“Ah, I guess we don’t have a choice. You don’t mind, do you?” you remarked reluctantly, knowing that you were more than happy to have company in your bed, but he might not feel the same.

“Well what else can I do?” He shrugged with indifference. “I would’ve taken the couch if I could’ve already.”

“Right, sorry I didn’t tell you before we left.”

You sighed, more embarrassment clouding your vision as you hurriedly searched the inside of your suitcase for a flimsy shirt. It was way too hot during the summertime to wear a full set of pyjamas, so you hoped Seokjin wouldn’t feel even more uncomfortable by your choice of clothing.

Better than being naked.

You shuddered with heat at the thought but pushed it all away quickly. This was already bad enough as it was.

“It’s fine, I honestly don’t mind if you don’t,” he grunted while beginning to unbutton his shirt. You swallowed thickly at the sight of his broad chest and collarbone slowly getting revealed the lower he went. That, paired with the way his hair had become messy and rugged after driving and running his hands through it, was a dangerous combination you were enjoying way too much.

“Well, I don’t. Never did." You smiled nervously before moving to the bathroom to get changed.

You knew that sharing a bed with him after so many months was never going to be an easy feat. It was awkward at best, with you trying your best to ignore the thoughts of him being so close - thanks to your fear of doing something unpredictable - and him having no trouble forgetting you were there altogether. It was nothing for him. Somehow, he could just sleep the night away and not think about the presence of other people constantly.

The sound of soft breathing, the occasional movement of a foot or arm, the slight rise of the duvet with every deep inhale, or even the dreamy mumbling slipping past lips every now and again. You envied the peaceful way he drifted off, knowing that living with siblings most likely allowed him to factor these things right out.

For you, they were things that kept your eyes wide open, mind running a million miles a minute.

The next morning brought you to the first town on the itinerary. The sleepless night faded away as you parked the large vehicle next to the others, legs already bouncing with excitement at the thought of finally visiting some of your old childhood pastimes.

You all spent the day traipsing through the streets while some of the older family members greeted the shopkeepers and residents heartily. You could feel your heart bursting at the sight of Seokjin looking around the place with wide eyes, obvious amazement lighting up his face as he regarded the interactions of those around him. There was a growing fondness there you never thought you’d see.

One parkland picnic later, and the two of you found yourselves mingling with the crowd. You surprisingly found it easy to talk about your married life together. Even though he was quiet and unsure of how to act, everyone loved Seokjin and found great amusement in teasing and joking around with him. Many times you had to bite your tongue to hold back a snort of laughter. The old uncles and aunties never did hold back their rowdy banter.

“I remember when I was first married, son,” your eldest cousin said and clapped a hand firmly onto Seokjin’s shoulder, “It’s always magical at first, but soon you’ll want to chew your own ear off!”

You all laughed at his sardonic humour. Everyone, even the hopeless romantics, knew that marriage was never supposed to be perfect.

“It can’t be magical the whole time?” Seokjin asked thoughtfully, the tone of his voice light-hearted but the nature of the question way too innocent for your boisterous family to bypass.

Okay, maybe not everyone knew.

You almost choked on your sandwich when the people around you burst into loud laughter, feeling sorry for your husband. He just didn’t know the group of people he was dealing with yet.

The older men clinked their beers together. “Look at this guy, he wants a life-long honeymoon phase!”

“Nah, I think he’s looking for an early grave instead.”

You furrowed your brows and yelled through a smile, “Hey! What do you take me for, a monster?”

They exchanged wide-eyed looks and chuckled again before waving you off and tousling your hair affectionately.

“Be careful or I’ll tell Aunty what you said.” You giggled, trying to fix your messy tresses.

The loud and harmless jesting continued amongst the rest of the group while you turned to see how Seokjin was going with his food. A smile curved your lips again when you spotted the slight crinkle appearing at the corners of his eyes. He was amused, and the way the beaming sunlight streamed down through the tree branches to light up his grinning face was breathtakingly perfect.

His eyes shifted to meet yours suddenly, and you were glad it didn’t cause his expression to change. His gaze, irrevocably beautiful, was so warm and lively. If you could, you would want to see him this happy for the rest of his life.

“Son,” he mouthed quietly after shifting his gaze away from your awestruck scrutiny, “I’m still waiting for my own father to call me that.”

A ruthless stab to your chest. Not only from his words, but rather the lack of emotion he expressed while speaking them.

You didn’t know the kind of relationships he’d had, or how he’d lived his life so far, but trying to find out was like trying to connect with a brick wall. This simple statement about his father had you swallowing back sympathy, and it was upsetting to think that you’d never even once thought to ask him about it.

You wanted – no, you needed him to open up to you.

Quickly sifting through one of the cute picnic baskets led you to find a bundle of sweet packaged snacks. You would do anything to wipe that distantly forlorn look off his face, and universal law stated that candy was sure-fire way to lift anyone’s spirits. You personally loved them, but it was tough to determine if his tastes would match.

“Want a jelly?”

“Wait, you mean-” he started, but cut himself off when you finally fished out a specific packet and let out a small ‘ah!’ of triumph. His eyes shone with recognition, and you became confused at his unexpected reaction.

“I haven’t had these since I was young. They were my favourite, but my mother wanted us to stop eating too many sugary things…” Seokjin revealed, his lips pulling up into a smirk as he recalled his childhood memories.

“Well, you’re on your own now, and I’m not going to stop you. So here.” You chuckled and waited until he’d grabbed a handful of jellies before popping one into your own mouth.

Seokjin shook his head with a huff. He obviously found it stupid how he’d followed the strict rules of his parents for so long, not allowing himself to rebel in the slightest. It had never been an option before, but now here he was – living in a motorhome, eating hot dogs and jellies, basically hitchhiking through old weary towns rather than having his head down working for a big-time business firm.

You watched his eyes trail over you again, almost picking up his phantom of a voice saying, “So this is the life I could have lived.”

It brought a smile to your face as you thought about the way his gaze had lit up and drank everything in with such fervour. His cold and masquerade-like world was changing, he was seeing life from a different perspective, and knowing that you’d played a part in that brought you immense joy.

It was a warm glow of happiness you’d never felt or known before.

Night fell once more. Everyone filtered away to their beds, eyes drooping and bellies full of the various baked goods of the town. It had been an amazing day, and you knew you couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity to help Seokjin emerge from his shell.

He seemed to be enjoying the trip for the exact same reasons you always had. Except now, you had another.

#seokjin x reader #btsghostie #seokjin scenarios #seokjin smut #seokjin imagines #seokjin series #jin smut #seokjin angst #seokjin fluff #arranged marriage au #husband jin #bts jin #bts smut #jin angst #admire #saladejin

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userarchive · 4 years

Text

Unexpected Circumstances Ch 12

Warnings: Language, talk of the job.

The heavy knock at the door caused you to stir, body trying to fight the urge to wake up as Olivia’s voice gently called through the room.

“I know you’re tired, but it’s time to get to work.” Thankfully, she dropped a pair of NYPD sweats and hoodie on the cot next to you while you groggily unwrapped yourself from Sonny’s arms, giving him a soft shove with your elbow to wake him up. You tugged the sweats on half under your dress, pulling your mussed up hair into a top knot, not even caring about your feet, not wanting to shove the heels back on, padding out to the squad room. You were more than thankful at the Starbucks that Kat handed you, giving her the brightest smile you could muster, humming in satisfaction over the taste of the latte.

“Okay.” You started, “Obviously they fucked up by busting the ring tonight, we would’ve had a lot more people on cuffs on the 31st, but at least we have the books.” You shuffled through them, handing one to Fin, one to Kat, and one to Olivia.

“These are huge.” Benson commented, amazed at the attention to detail.

“Yeah.” You replied, “Everything’s colour coded in that one. Perps who got violent have the black dot beside their ID, ones that we kept on a short leash are red, the ones who wanted underage girls are pink, dirty cops are orange, undercover cops are green. Pimps are marked with stars, underage girls are pinks, trafficked girls are yellow and the pros are purple.”

“You did all this?” Sonny looked up at you as he leafed through the book.

“Thank Theresa for dragging me to that scrapbooking class.” He practically snorted at that, knowing how much you despised spending an entire weekend cutting out little photos and decals with his sister.

“These are all suppliers…” Fin commented, looking up from the book you’d handed him. You knew he used to be in narcotics, figured he’d be the best to start tracking down those leads.

“Manhattan royalty. Can’t have our drugs laced with garbage, we refused to deal with dealers or buy off the street, we needed the purest product a supplier could get.”

“That Martinez’s idea?”

“Nah, I convinced him to switch over after I started. Said I didn’t want any dead bodies turning up on my hands ‘cause of the spike in Fentanyl.”

“We could shut down at least a third of the drug operations in the city with this.”

“You’re welcome.” You smirked, turning back to Olivia, “I’d start focussing on the stars, pink, yellow and black from there. Find whatever evidence you’re gonna need for arrests or warrants, we’re in this for the long hall.”

“This one’s all arms dealers.” Kat commented.

“Yeah, it’s not as much, we didn’t deal much with ATF type stuff, but I figured I may as well document it too.”

“Martinez was okay with you taking all this down?” Sonny asked, shocked that anyone was willing to give you this much information if they were coming to a party, you had drivers licences scanned into the book for more than a few people.

“It helped us keep track of everything, especially people we didn’t want coming back to another party.” You shrugged, “Besides, the more people in the book, the more people we could flip on if we were ever arrested, these things are a fucking gold mine. Alejandro was more than okay with having someone else to throw under the bus.” Elliot’s voice was the next to break through the room, much to your annoyance.

“Well he’s not about to flip on anyone. 6 hours and he’s not saying a word.”

“He lawyered up?” Olivia asked.

“No.” He sighed, “Just refuses to talk.” You groaned outwardly, knowing just how damn stubborn the man was, knowing the only way out of this. You tugged your dress down over your hips, kicking off the sweats, shoving your shoes back on, hands extended in front of you to Stabler.

“Let me talk to him.” He cocked his brow at you, “As a perp.” You insisted, “Trust me. He’ll flip.” Elliot shrugged, reaching for his cuffs as you turned to Sonny. “Please…remember anything I say in there is not true.” His brows furrowed at your comment, watching you give your body a shake as you slipped into character, Elliot leading you to the interrogation room.

Alejandro’s head shot up at the motion of the door opening, nearly jumping up from the table at the sullen look on your face, not to mention the split lip and well forming bruise from the pistol whipping he’d witnessed.

“What the hell did you do to her?”

“I’m fine! Please.” You calmed him quickly, urging him to sit back down.

“She just wanted to talk to you.” Elliot folded his arms across his chest, leaning back against the wall, watching the way you nearly timidly sat down at the table, your eyes softly meeting Alejandro’s.

“I need you to talk…please…” The shake in your voice was convincing enough even Stabler would’ve fallen for it, “Alejandro they’re threatening me with fifteen years.” Tears had sprung into your eyes, his hands grasping yours across the table, your voices hushed, as if that would make them not heard by the ones you knew were watching.

“Chiquita…just throw a couple names out, they’ll let you walk like they always do.”

“It’s not like that this time, they’re not offering me a deal. Organized crime is here too, there’s no escaping this, they’re throwing me in jail!”

“You’ll be okay, trust me.” You nearly choked out a sob.

“Please…I can’t go to jail! Alejandro… I’m pregnant…”

“What?!” His eyes shot up to you, full of worry and concern, watching the tear roll down your cheek. “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

“I just found out….I swapped the champagne for sparkling cider at the party. “He…he was a new guy, I’d only seen him a couple of times…” You sniffled back a cry, “I…I can’t go to jail..the baby..child services’ll take it away right away and I’ll never see it again. All I ever wanted was to be a mother…you know that. I ca—I can’t lose this baby…” You did the best to wipe your face with your cuffed hands, “I already gave them the books, but they claim they want your confession.”

“You gave them the books?!”

“I had no choice.” You sobbed into your hands, Alejandro quickly moved around the table, a hand softly rubbing against your back.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, they can’t put you away.” He looked up to Elliot, “Get your lawyer in here, we’ll make a deal.” The sergeant smirked at his words, watching him move back around the table, tapping the glass for Sonny to come in.

“Mr Martinez. What exactly do you want?”

“You keep Rose out of jail.” His arms folded over his chest, “I’ll give you anything you want, anyone you want. She stays out of the trial, out of jail, charge her with a misdemeanour fine if you must and let her walk. She just did the books, she had nothing to do with the ring.”

“And the gun?” Sonny replied, you had to give it to him, he was doing a good job at keeping your cover.

“It wasn’t hers! It was Declan’s!”

“Oh and the drugs also happened to not be hers?”

“Her Dad died of an overdose, she’d never touched the stuff. I’ve known her seven years and never seen her even go near any of it. It’s all mine. Let. Her. Go.” Sonny looked between the bodies in the room,

“We’ll keep her here until you’ve given us enough information to make that deal, you understand that?” Alejandro begrudgingly sighed at that, nodding in response, giving you a soft look.

“Thank you.” He nearly flinched at the rough way Elliot tugged you up from the table, leading you from the room. You were thankful he waited until the door was closed before he spoke.

“Where’d you go to acting school?” He half joked.

“NYU, double majored.” You shoved your wrists in front of his face, “Now un cuff me.” He rolled his eyes at you, undoing the cuffs, “You’re welcome…” You teasingly replied, heading back into the squad room.

You were thankful when Alejandro’s case went to trial quickly, and that Sonny didn’t need you to take the stand, not that you’d be able to do anything other than plead the 5th on the off chance the jury found him not guilty. The trial was set to start today and you were currently leant up against the wall of the courthouse, one knee bent, heel on the wall while you scrolled through your phone.

“What’re you doing here? Is the defence calling you?” Sonny’s soft voice rang through the space as he approached you. You gave him a cold once over,

“Mr. Carisi…” He then realized you were definitely here undercover, which he should’ve realized with simply the way you were dressed. “I’m simply here for moral support. He is offering time in jail to save me and my unborn child from having to go.” He chuckled at your joke, moving closer to you, dropping his voice to not be overheard.

“Ya know, you’ve got a weird relationship with Martinez.” You laughed,

“And you’ve got a weird little relationship with Carl Rudnick, don’t you?” You smirked at his baffled reaction, “I’ll see you in there Counsellor. Nice suit.”

“Hey, how’d it go?” Amanda asked as you and Sonny made your way into the bull pen.

“Guilty.” You replied,

“He’ll do 15 for promoting prostitution, 8 for the drug charges, served concurrently.” Sonny spoke, placing his briefcase down into an empty chair.

“That little for all those drugs?” Fin questioned,

“He flipped on nearly all of the suppliers in the book, gave us proof that he bought from them regularly.” You dropped down into your chair, pulling out the pile of papers while spinning to face the whiteboard. “Where are we with the rest of ‘em?”

All in all it would end up taking months to track down enough substantial evidence to arrest as many people as you could from the books, focussing on collaring the most dangerous ones. It was overtime for nearly everyone, finding placement in shelters, foster homes, low cost apartments for the girls, helping those who would admit to needing it to find the proper therapists. Grilling perps, and dealing with one hell of a lot of defence attorneys, everybody was ready to try and throw someone else under the bus, problem was, you already had everyone. You ended up having to testify in multiple trials, some of them simply pleading the fifth, some of them you were able to give your true testimony, explaining in explicit detail about the work you’d done undercover, and everything you’d witnessed. The trials took even longer, some of the higher privileged clients sure to pull out every stop possibly, dragging things out as long as they could, using their status and power in the city to try and get out of the charges. The entire squad was not only exhausted but on edge, careful to watch their backs, Sonny had insisted on a protective detail on you, especially once you started testifying. (Which of course you rolled your eyes at). You knew it would take ages to work through the books, and there were still a large number of clients you had yet to nail that were still out there, able to target a new group, a different girl, and at this point there wasn’t much you could do about it.

It was the original night of Alejandro’s trial that you got home, later than expected, not surprised to find Sonny in the kitchen, spatula in one hand, pen scribbling on a legal pad in the other. You greeted him with a soft kiss on the cheek, knowing his scrunched face meant that he was at least attempting to concentrate, before moving down the hall to change into comfier clothes.

“Sorry I’m late.” You started, taking a seat across the island.

“S’okay, I didn’t get out on time either.” He scribbled something out on the pad, giving a hefty sigh as he tossed it aside, returning his attention to the stove.

“You did great today, really crushed it in there. You’ve grown into such an incredible lawyer Sonny.”

“Thanks.” He tossed you a warm grin at the praise, “Can’t say I wasn’t worried, that Martinez sure is a smooth talker, there was definitely more than one sympathetic juror.” He paused to pull down two wine glasses, passing one over to you, “Doesn’t help that they all think he took the fall to protect his pregnant co conspirator.” You cocked a brow, sipping on your wine.

“I did what I had to do to get him to talk, and that’s what we needed.”

“You couldn’ta just told him you were a cop?”

“And blow my cover? So when he gets out, probably in less time than his sentence and goes straight back into the sex ring world we won’t have an immediate in?”

“You really think he’ll go straight back into what got him thrown in jail?” You shrugged,

“It’s all he knows. He grew up surrounded by that world, took over the ring when his Dad died, he was barely 25. Deems himself too good to deal drugs, hell I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already wrangling up new customers at Greenhaven.”

“Too good ta deal drugs, but he’s fine selling women for sex? Seems a bit outlandish.” You gave a small laugh, knowing just how ridiculous it all was, “You exchange a lot of personal information with each other?” Carisi stopped briefly, plating up dinner.

“I was working with him for seven years, we couldn’t exactly keep the conversations to the weather and local sports teams…I padded my story as thick as I could before I went under.”

“Ya told him about your Dad…” Your eyes darted up to meet Sonny’s,

“Felt like it was an big enough excuse to stay away from the drugs…” You sighed, “Listen, when you’re under that long, little bits of the truth end up slipping out, you can only lie about so many things before you start to forget details. It’s easier to just let the real you shine through into your character.”

“Well you two certainly seem comfortable together.” You froze your movements at that, waiting for him to meet your eyes across the island.

“What exactly are you insinuating Dominick?” You felt a ball of rage slowly building in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m just sayin’, seven years working sex rings together, lavish vacations in the downtime, you never once slipped up? Slept with your mark?”

“Dominick!!” You rolled your eyes, “If I WAS to have had sex with anyone while under it certainly wouldn’t have been a federal criminal!! Where the fuck is this coming from? Just cause I went to the trial?”

Sonny had been annoyed at that fact all week while Alejandro’s trail went on, he somewhat understood your intent behind it, but he didn’t like it. He also didn’t like the way Alejandro’s eyes lingered on you in the court room, the way that he was so quick to flip for you in interrogation, the way that he’d comforted your tears, things simply seemed a little to close for his comfort. He knew that he technically couldn’t blame you for anything that happened while you were under, thinking you were dead, he’d tried to move on a few times, but it was a punch to the gut watching the way the two of you interacted.

“More like because that prick is going to jail for you! He’d face 15 years just so you wouldn’t have to? There’s just somethin’ there that doesn’t seem just as black and white as coworkers.”

“We had separate rooms at that penthouse, in opposite wings. The closest thing you could compare it to would be if he was my, non-sexual, sugar daddy!”

“That man is wrapped around your Goddamn finger so tightly I can’t just ignore it. There’s no way he doesn’t have some kind of feelings for you!” His anger was building up, he hadn’t wanted to fight about this, just wanted a straight answer, “Are you telling me you never once slept with him?”

“Never! He takes care of his company, but not like that. He nearly always had a pro on his arm!” You huffed, mirroring his position of folding your arms on the counter, “Are you telling me you never once slept with Rollins?” He faltered at that, should’ve known better than to attempt to fight about this with you.

“I—no.” He hung his head ashamed, “There was one time that we…almost..but-“

“I already know about West Virginia…she told me, long before you even thought about it.” You pushed off the island, moving to stand, “You had a thing with your partner, who’s now my partner, at least now I know which one of you has my back!”

“You’re tellin’ me that in seven fuckin years you didn’t once touch anyone?” He was standing now too, anger consuming him as he watched you grab your coat.

“Sonny! I was working in a fucking sex ring! The things I had to deal with, the things I saw?! Those poor girls getting beaten, getting raped on a regular basis, the ones who were so young they’d barely hit puberty being forced to have sex with men three times their age! Getting hooked on fucking drugs?! You know how many I saw turn up dead of overdoses ‘cause they’d gotten a bad score? You know how many times I personally had to pull a John off a girl ‘cause they were being too rough, ‘cause they weren’t doing what the girl had consented to? How many times I’ve had to drop off Jane Doe’s at the E.R. cause they were on the brink of alcohol poisoning, needed a stomach pump for all the drugs they’d shoved up their nose? Or the ones I had to bring in to get treatment for internal bruising or tearing in places I didn’t even want to think of? Do you really, seriously think that while I was witnessing all that horror that my mind even wanted to THINK about sex in a intimate way? I was just doing my best to keep those poor girls alive!!” You wrenched open the door,

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Amanda’s! We’ll finish this when you’ve got your head on straight.” With that the door was slammed shut and you were gone.

You knew that coming out of undercover wasn’t going to be easy, especially after such a long stint, and especially with the baggage of your past. You’d been slightly amazed that Sonny hadn’t moved on, that he wanted to work things out, that he was still able to love you as much as you loved him. He was a true gem, always had been and always would be, and you knew he belonged in your life, otherwise why would it have thrown you back together like this?

Sonny dropped back into his seat at the island, sighing heavily he shoved the plate of food away from him, opting instead to top up his wine glass, taking a hefty swig. He’d been so pent up and distracted at Martinez’s behaviour towards you, knowledge of all the gifts he’d gotten you, he’d forgotten about the other side of the op, the side of actual heinous crimes. You’d probably seen more horrible things than half of SVU combined, and while they dealt with the aftermath, you dealt with it in real time, witnessing the crimes, and then still attempting to piece back together the broken girls afterwards. Only thing was, you weren’t putting them back together to stand trial or to press charges, they weren’t getting any justice, you just needed them back in working form as fast as possible. It was probably complete torture for you, every single one of the upcoming cases from this bust was probably weighing you down so heavily you were barely afloat anymore.

#law and order #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #sonny carisi #dominick sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #dominick carisi x reader #sonny carisi x oc #dominick sonny carisi x oc

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softlass27 · 4 years

Text

So today I got a little wistful thinking about travel – or the lack thereof these days – and since airports are one of my favourite types of places, this random little ficlet was born.

AO3 link here

Manchester Airport is hushed and near-empty in the early hours of the morning, only a few flights scheduled for this time.

“All checked in,” Robert comes over to where Aaron’s waiting with a yawn. “I don’t have to go through to departures for a while yet.”

His hair is flat against his forehead, and Aaron can’t resist pushing it up gently. “Wanna sit?”

Robert nods, grabbing the handle of his carry on suitcase and steering them to a row of seats near the window. They settle themselves down and Aaron passes Robert the tea he’d bought while he waited for Robert to check in.

“Ta.” Robert takes a sip. “Ugh, that’s a bad brew.”

Aaron hums and slurps a mouthful of his own drink – a strong black coffee to make sure he'll be awake enough for the drive home he’ll have to make soon.

They sit in sleepy silence, gazing out the window at planes taking off and landing on the runways, the lights blinking in the pitch-black sky.

Aaron’s gaze drifts to Robert. His cheek still has the indents that the car seatbelt had made while he’d slept during their journey to the airport. He reaches out to rub at them with his thumb and Robert tips his head into it, before taking hold of Aaron’s hand and pressing brief kiss to his palm.

“Where d’you think that one’s going, then?” He gestures to a plane taking off in front of them, too far away for them to make out the logo in the darkness.

“Bet it’s somewhere hot, lucky bastards,” Aaron grumbles, shuffling his head further down into the collar of his puffy jacket. The bitter cold of this early February morning is making him so utterly done with winter. “God, I’m so cold. And so tired.”

“Hey, I told you you didn’t have to drop me off. I could’ve gotten a taxi.”

“Don’t be daft.”

Robert gives this annoying little smile, like he knew that’s exactly what Aaron was going to say, and God, Aaron misses him. He hasn’t even gone yet, he’s still sitting right here next to him, and Aaron already misses him so much, because apparently he’s that kind of sap these days. It’s sad, really.

He leans into him and Robert doesn’t hesitate to pull him closer, wrapping a long arm around Aaron’s shoulders and tucking him in the crook of his neck.

They stay like that for the next twenty minutes or so, watching people in neon vests run around on the tarmac outside, hauling luggage and prepping runways. In that time, Robert manages to drift off to sleep again, soft snores ringing in Aaron’s ears. Aaron slides his arm in the opening of Robert’s expensive wool coat, the one he always wears when he’s hoping to impress whoever he’s meeting.

And Aaron knows he’s keen to impress these prospective French clients; if he secures this contract it’ll bring in a huge amount of profit to the haulage. Aaron had spent hours sitting up with Robert, going over his pitch and presentation over and over again until it was as perfect as they could get it. He’d even given Robert a few French phrases to impress them with… though he’d advised him to double-check the pronunciation online before trying them out. Aaron’s wasn’t exactly spot on.

He snuggles further into Robert, stroking his stomach through his jumper and soaking up the natural warmth his husband always seems to carry with him, whatever the weather. Takes in the feel of his body, the smell of his aftershave, the sound of his breathing. Makes the most of him while he can.

It’s just a few days, not even a week, but he’s not looking forward to facing an empty bed tonight. Maybe he’ll let Seb come in with him for a little sleepover, and get his cuddles from Robert’s tiny clone.

As the first rays of sunrise start to peak through the sky, Aaron checks the time on his phone and nudges Robert awake. All that gets him is a shake of Robert’s head as he buries his face into Aaron’s shoulder out of habit.

“Robert.”

“Ugh, nooo.”

“Rob, come on. You should probably start makin’ tracks, you’ve gotta get all those little 100ml bottles of yours through security. What is there, shampoo, conditioner, moisturiser, hand cream, spare hand cream – ”

Robert scowls and elbows him into shutting up, but he does open his eyes and sit up, scrubbing at his face with his hand. He looks impossibly soft, like he always does in the morning, and Aaron is hit by another wave of longing. Shit.

He goes to chuck away their styrofoam cups while Robert shuffles through his bag and checks he has his passport, before standing up to stretch his arms over his head. The loud groan he lets out as he does so is obscene, really, Aaron would be embarrassed if he wasn’t so into it.

They wander towards the entrance to the departures lounge, where a few other travellers are also making their way through, stopping to say goodbye to any loved ones who’ve accompanied them. Robert pulls them to one side so they’re not in anyone’s way, and pulls Aaron into a tight hug.

“See you on Friday,” he says into Aaron’s neck, pressing his mouth to the skin there.

Aaron shivers and nods. “Travel safe, and don’t drink too much champagne with those French blokes.”

“Without you?” Robert grins as he leans back enough to look Aaron in the eye. “Never.”

Aaron rolls his eyes. “I’ve told you, I don’t like it.”

“Lies,” Robert chuckles. “Give Seb a massive hug from me when you get home, yeah?”

They’d left Seb with Victoria, who’d stayed over at theirs to get him up and ready for nursery that morning. Aaron would be back in plenty of time to pick him up at lunchtime.

“Course I will.”

“I’ll be heading to the hotel to freshen up and get changed before the first meeting, so I’ll have time to give you a ring.”

“I know.”

“And I’ll call you later tonight, try and catch Seb’s bedtime – ”

“I know, Rob,” Aaron’s laughing now. “C’mere.”

He pushes up on his tip toes to press a soft kiss to the side of Robert’s mouth, pulling away only to tilt his head and kiss him again, harder this time. Robert deepens it, parting Aaron’s lips with his tongue and bringing his hands up to cup Aaron’s jaw, thumbs stroking through stubble.

It’s a little more PDA than they’d normally indulge in, but fuck it, the airport is nearly dead, it’s not like there are many people around to see. They eventually part, resting their foreheads together.

“I love you,” Aaron says, brushing his nose along Robert’s cheek.

“Love you, too.” Robert squeezes his waist.

“Bring me back some macarons.”

“Will do.”

“You should get going, then.”

“Mm-hm… ”

He doesn’t move, though, keeps holding onto Aaron and Aaron lets him. They stay like that for a little while longer, and Aaron wonders when he became such a soft lad.

“Okay.” He eventually takes a step back. “You need to go, otherwise you might actually miss your flight and we’ll have gotten up at arse o’clock for nothin’.”

Robert rolls his eyes but nods, grabbing his suitcase and showing his passport and boarding pass to the guard. He’s quickly allowed through, and Aaron watches as he makes his way down the long corridor towards the security checks. Just before he rounds the corner, he stops and turns to Aaron, tilting his head as he gives him a small wave.

Aaron takes a hand out of his pocket to wave back, and keeps his eyes on him until he’s out of sight. And then it’s just him, standing in the quiet airport, feeling a little bereft and wondering how bad the traffic will be on the drive home.

****

Seb begs to come along with him to pick Robert up on Friday afternoon. He’d already been slightly devastated that he couldn’t go to the airport to drop Robert off, obsessed as he is with aeroplanes these days. He also insists, for some reason, that they need to bring Robert a welcome home balloon. Where he’s gotten that idea, Aaron has no clue, but he can’t bring himself to say no.

So here he stands in the airport, one hand holding Seb’s smaller one, and the other grasping the string of a bright blue balloon. They’d killed some time by watching the hustle and bustle outside, Seb pointing with delight at every plane he saw on the runway, but as soon as Robert’s flight landed, they took their place in among the small crowd of people waiting at the arrival’s gate, Seb swinging his arm back and forth impatiently.

After about fifteen minutes, passengers finally begin to trickle out one by one and Seb’s immediately bouncing on his toes, craning his neck to get a better view.

Eventually Robert appears, coming up just behind a small group of students, eyes already darting around the crowd.

“Daddy!” And Seb’s off, dropping Aaron’s hand and dashing forwards as fast as little legs can carry him.

Aaron sees Robert’s eyes light up instantly, and he’s dropping his suitcase to scoop Seb up in his arms.

“Mate, I didn’t know you were picking me up!” He grips Seb tightly and presses his face to his neck to blow a raspberry there. “You miss me?”

“Loads.” Seb wraps his arms around Robert’s neck, squirming excitedly in his grip. Robert awkwardly leans down to pick up his suitcase and move them out of the path of a disgruntled-looking elderly couple, heading in Aaron’s direction with a smile.

“Hey you,” he says, giving him a light kiss.

“Hiya.” Aaron knows he’s grinning like an idiot.

“What’s with the balloon?”

“S’for you!” Seb explains, grasping Robert’s collar.

“It’s a welcome home balloon. Apparently.” Aaron smirks and holds it out. “His idea.”

“Blue. You like blue,” Seb adds.

“You’re right, blue is my favourite colour,” Robert says, letting Aaron take his suitcase so he can swap it for the balloon. “Thanks bud, I love it.”

“Home?” Aaron asks.

“God yes, I’m knackered. And starving. Can we get some chips or something from the Woolie?”

“Yes,” Seb replies before Aaron has a chance, as if it’s up to him.

“And then,” Robert adds, bouncing Seb lightly in his arm. “I can show you all the presents I got you.”

Seb grins toothily and snuggles down on Robert's shoulder.

“Got some stuff for you, too,” Robert murmurs to Aaron as they start walking in the direction of the exit.

“Did you get the – ”

“Yes, I got your macarons. Two boxes, because I'm a good husband.”

Aaron’s helpless to stop the warm feeling that spreads in his chest, the one that’s been missing since the last time he stood in this airport. Sure, they’ve texted and spoken every day, but it doesn’t compare to actually having Robert here by his side.

Nothing beats having him home.

#my writing #robron #robron fic #idk i'm feeling soft

40 notes · View notes

lu-undy · 4 years

Note

Another one hehe, it's ok to take time 😅 Dell made some time traveling machine then he called Mundy to try it, Mundy decide to go back in in the day 1942 in France where Lucien was in a 20s-30years old. Mundy tried to talk the young Lucien 😁

Alright, this took the life and floof out of me. At first I didn’t like it but then I just couldn’t stop! Here it is, and I hope you enjoy it!! Also, I changed the year to be in the fifties or so ^^ Be warned, it’s more than 5k words ^^!

"You sure it works?" Sniper scratched his brow.

"Yeah." Engie answered confidently.

"And there's no danger?"

"Yeah, I saw Edison himself yesterday and Medic had a check-up on me. Nothing's wrong."

Sniper and Engineer were in the Texan's garage, in front of a tall box that looked like an old time telephone booth.

"So, where d'you wanna go? Or rather, when and where?" Engie asked with a proud smile. That telephone box was a time machine.

Sniper frowned and tilted his head thinking hard. He could go back a decade or so, even a few decades, to see his parents again. Hell, he could go back and see real dinosaurs if he wanted to!

"Paris, 1953." Was his answer. Engie raised an eyebrow.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, Christmas day, wherever the French Ministry of Defense is."

"Why?"

Sniper looked away.

"There's a monument I want to see."

Engie half guessed where it was all going.

"Alrighty then, get in, when you hear a beep, count to twenty and then open the door. Wherever you end up with that machine, you need to remember where it was, cause that's your only ticket back."

"Anything I shouldn't do?" Sniper asked.

"Like what?" Engie chuckled.

"I don't know, to not change the past and stuff like that?"

"Nah, it's fine. Unless you kill someone… Yeah, don't get your hands on a rifle and kill someone. And don't meet yourself. God knows what would happen… I guess that should do."

"Right, kill no one and don't see any family, got it." Sniper repeated to himself and Engie opened the door for him to jump in.

"And how long do I have?" Sniper asked.

"Here, take this watch."

"Looks like Spy's."

"Yeah, but it doesn't just turn you invisible. Press the button on the side three times and I'll know you're back in the machine and ready to make it back."

"Okay, I think I got it." Sniper took the watch and put it on. Then he stepped in the machine. Oddly enough, it looked slightly bigger on the inside than what it seemed at first. There wasn't much inside, its walls were all blue, the ceiling was white and there was a chair and a coat hanger. Sniper removed his hat and sleeveless jacket to put himself at ease before sitting on the chair. Engie gave him a smile and a thumbs up before shutting the door. Soon, Sniper heard a beep.

"Right, here we go. One, two, three, four, five…"

When he reached twenty, he stood up and went to the door again.

"Paris, 1953. He should be about thirty-odd years old now."

Mundy put his hand on the door handle and pulled on it a bit. The door creaked slightly and he took a peek. Wherever he had landed was very dark. After making sure there was no one around he got out.

"Ouch!"

He bumped on something and heard wooden things tumble and fall on the floor.

"Where the hell am I…?"

He walked trying to grope for his way to any source of light while his back was hunched slightly. Sniper soon found the wall in front of him. His hands roamed on it until -

"Ah! Gotcha!" He flipped the switch and the lightbulb above his head lit up.

"What the…? Engie, I think you got it wrong, mate…" He said, as if Englie could hear him. He realised he had landed in a broom closet. The wooden clinking sounds he had heard were the broomsticks falling to the floor.

"Let's see." He pushed the door and looked left and right. "Bloody hell, he might have got it right after all."

The walls were very tall and wooden. Portraits and oil paintings were hung there with elegant lamps with golden handles, that were decorated with tinsel and Christmas ornaments. The floor was wooden as well and as he looked at the ceiling, Sniper saw intricate white mouldings.

"That's one hell of a posh building." Sniper exited the broom closet and walked around. His heels resonated on the wooden floor. Soon, he could hear the distant noise of incomprehensible chattering.

"Where are you all…?" He followed the noises until he could see that he clearly was standing somewhere he shouldn't be. All the guests to the Christmas party were at the end of the corridor he was walking through.

"Monsieur?"

[Sir?]

A voice made him freeze. He turned and faced a waiter elegantly dressed in black and white.

"Aucun invité n'est autorisé ici."

Bloody hell they speak real French… Sniper thought. He blushed.

"Uh, you speak English?"

"Yes, I was saying that no guests were allowed here." The waiter answered with an accent that made Spy look like he had none.

"Ah, well, I-I uh… I was watching the paintings and I got carried away, my bad, really. Could you show me where the rest of the guests are? I'm afraid I got lost a bit."

"But of course, pray follow me."

Mundy stayed on the waiter's heels and soon entered a wide room with possibly more than a hundred people impeccably dressed, the sound of their chats rising in the air. There was a stage with some musicians playing in the background too, adding to the audible and visible Christmas atmosphere.

"There you are, Sir."

"Ah, thanks."

Mundy looked at his attire and rolled his eyes. His Mann Co. red polo shirt and brown trousers wouldn't do. He looked right and left and quickly found the restroom. He headed there and slipped in.

Sniper saw a man who happened to be roughly his height and build. He seemed already quite drunk judging by the way he struggled to maintain his balance, trying to redo his bowtie. Mundy made sure there was no one else in the cubicles before acting.

"Bonjour." He tried his best to hide his accent but could almost hear Spy laugh at him for it…

"Bonsoir." The man answered before squinting at his reflection on the mirror again.

[Good evening]

Mundy went to the restroom's main door and looked through the window. No one was immediately coming. He went for the poor drunk man trying to adjust his bowtie and knocked him unconscious before dragging him to one of the cubicles. He then swapped their clothes. Of course he kept his aviator glasses.

When he emerged from the restroom again, he was wearing a black suit and bowtie with a white shirt. He even had kept the handkerchief in the jacket pocket. Now he could face it all and look for the man he had gone through all that trouble for.

The main room with the guests was swarming with people. Men dressed sharp and ladies wearing colourful and elegant - albeit for him quite old-fashioned - dresses.

"Right, now, time to hunt for him… Where are you?" He said to himself as he walked through people. He didn't know where to find him but Sniper knew he was wearing a black suit and tie… which didn't help at all because that was the case for most if not all of the male guests.

"Argh, bugger, how the hell am I going to find you… If you were a panther, I'd know where to start but - oh, wait… You're a panther, you are a panther! I just need to hunt the same thing as you do and I'll find you. Pff, what the hell d'you hunt for…?"

Mundy pondered for a minute when he heard a group of women laugh on his right. He looked there and smiled to himself.

"Of course, sheilas!"

He headed in their direction and stopped walking when his eyes fell on a man, about a foot shorter than him, in a black suit and tie, a cigarette between his lips and his ice blue, almost grey eyes shining like he had rarely seen them before. His pitch black, silk hair was elegantly combed back except for a rebel front tuft that elegantly fell between his eyes.

Mundy smiled. He had found him. He had found young Spy!

He stayed there and watched him from a safe distance, with half-lidded eyes and a dreamy smile on his lips. A waiter passed by and offered him some drinks but Mundy didn't even see him. All he could see was that elegant man, being what defined him best, the best womanizer on the face of Earth.

Sometimes, a man would come and take a lady away from him but the man with the piercing eyes would wink at her and even if Mundy wasn't the one that this wink was destined to, he would blush.

"Almost fifteen years before and you still can't make the first step, hm?"

Mundy's blood froze. He recognised the suave voice with the French accent. But how? He had his eyes on Spy right now, it couldn't be him talking and at the same time being five metres away, busy seducing any woman who happened to meet his gaze!

Mundy felt a hand on his shoulder and turned his head.

"What the hell are you doin' here?!"

Spy, the real one - well, the old one - was standing next to him as elegantly dressed as his younger self.

"I could ask you the same question, you early stalker."

"Pff…" Mundy chuckled.

"So, what are you up to, Sniper? And what is that suit? Does it belong to the unconscious man in the restroom?"

"Well…"

"Next time, knock out someone who actually is the same size as you."

"What are you talkin' about?" Sniper looked down at himself. "It's my size!"

"Mon Dieu, the keenest and quickest eyes I have seen and yet you cannot spot a man that is built like you…"

[My God]

"Oi, I could, I just didn't have much choice, alright?"

"Of course, blame it on fate."

They both chuckled at their own banter.

"But you didn't tell me," Spy turned his piercing eyes to his friend. "What brings the man in a van in Paris in the year of our Lord 1953, hm?"

"I don't know really… I just… I wanted to see it with my own eyes."

"The photograph I showed you wasn't enough?"

"N-no, that's not what I meant. I mean… It's better with colours, and for real."

Spy smiled and handed him a glass of champagne, which he gladly accepted. But Sniper's eyes never left Spy, the young one.

"What do you see?"

"I… The picture didn't lie, you really looked like that."

Spy raised a confused eyebrow.

"Did you think I tampered with the picture to look different?"

"N-no, I… Argh, I can't speak sometimes, I just sound stupid."

Spy smirked. He knew why Sniper was losing his words.

"Ah, look at me… Black hair, no lines on my face yet, and as proud as a peacock." Spy felt nostalgic.

"Not really different from you now, eh."

"Very poor lie." Spy snickered.

"Not for the proud bit." Sniper teased.

"Tsk…"

They chuckled and tipped their glasses before taking a sip.

"Ah, the champagne from the Ministry's receptions…"

"Takes you back, eh?" Sniper asked.

"You have no idea." Spy answered, a bittersweet smile on his lips. "But tell me."

"What?"

"Why here and now?" Spy asked. "You could have chosen any destination, any time. You could have seen wonderful things, met legendary people, and yet, you chose Paris in the winter of the year 1953."

Sniper stared at the champagne glass in his hand.

"It's that picture you showed me the other day when we were chattin'."

"What about it?"

"I don't know… It stayed stuck to my head and I kept wondering."

"What would it look like with colours?" Spy asked.

"Yeah, well, that and, uh… I wanted to know how you were before. If you've always been like that."

"Like what?"

"Like the spooky bastard you are, obviously!"

They chuckled.

"Well, why don't you go and see for yourself?" Spy suggested. "Go on then, go and talk to me."

"W-what should I say?"

"This is entirely up to you, but I cannot talk to myself so go ahead, I will just stay here and hope I can remember the content of that conversation, as I cannot partake in it or watch it from close enough.

"B-but I don't know what to say…"

"Do it like I would." Spy smirked. "Improvise."

"Thanks for the shit advice, eh."

"Fine, then a true piece of advice from me to you, to go and talk to the younger me - Mon Dieu, how strange this sounds - is go and seduce me."

"What?!"

Spy couldn't hold back his giggle.

"Stop messin' with me."

"That look on your face was worth it, mon ami."

[My friend.]

"Screw you, Spook."

Spy laughed further. Mundy took a deep breath and wiped his sweaty hands on his thighs.

"R-right, I'll try something."

Spy smiled maliciously and followed Sniper with his eyes. When he saw Mundy started speaking, he clicked on his watch and turned invisible before getting closer. He wasn't going to miss Sniper taking the first step on him for anything in the world. Also, now that he thought about it, he had just acted like the wingman to… his younger self?

"H-hey there." Mundy said, his back slightly hunched and his cheeks pink already.

"Bonsoir." The younger Spy turned to face him.

[Good evening.]

Spy's eyes had always been that impressive then, eh?

"Gosh, even your voice is the same…"

The Frenchman raised an eyebrow.

"The same as what?"

"And the accent! Bloody hell, it's really you!"

"Do I know you, perhaps?"

"Ah, uh, n-not yet."

"Obviously." The younger Spy answered. "What is your name?"

"Mundy, you?"

"Lucien."

"Really? Is that your name? Not one of those Jean-Pierre or other names like a train with loads of carts?"

The man with the black hair chuckled and Mundy saw his pearly white teeth.

"Oui, I can assure you that Lucien is my name. Does it not suit me?" He asked jokingly.

"Yeah, nah, sorry, I'm just a bit… confused." Mundy answered.

"I can see that."

Mundy looked around. Only a few ladies were orbiting around Lucien now but it was still too much for him and he didn't seem comfortable talking in front of them.

"D'you… D'you mind if we go somewhere a bit more calm?"

Lucien looked around him and smiled. There was something he liked about the strange man with the sideburns talking to him, something strangely attractive, or attractively strange.

"Follow me."

Mundy nodded and after crossing the room and taking some stairs, they found an empty smoking room.

"Do you smoke?"

"Sometimes."

"Here," Lucien flipped his cigarette case open, "Help yourself."

"Good Lord, even the case is the same… and the cigs too…!" Mundy said as he took a cigarette.

Lucien smiled and lit them both before they took a seat.

"You seem to compare me to someone else a lot."

"Yeah, well, there's this bloke I know." Mundy started. "He uh… He looks like you quite a bit. He's just a bit older."

"Mundy?"

Mundy's heart skipped a beat. Hearing his name uttered by that man, in that voice, that accent… It was surreal.

"Yeah?"

"Who are you? No doubt you know me, but I don't think I have ever seen you before."

"Y-yeah, well, uhm…" Mundy scratched the back of his head.

"And you clearly are not on the guest list either. I know every single one of the guests today. None of them are called Mundy. Besides, you clearly didn't make much effort to prepare for this reception."

Mundy's jaw dropped and Lucien puffed on his cigarette.

"H-how d'you know?"

"Your beard resembles more a messy stubble than anything else. It is clearly not taken care of, your hair either. And this suit…" Lucien's eyes were as piercing as Spy's. "You have never worn a proper suit before. You didn't adjust the bowtie or the cuffs properly and I think it is slightly too large for you, even though the fashion nowadays leans towards larger cuts, this is too much."

"Bloody hell, it's really you…" Mundy muttered under his breath.

"If you are talking about the man who is the best intelligence agent France has ever seen, oui, c'est moi."

[Yes, it is me.]

Lucien put a proud hand on his chest and bowed his head with the most smug grin.

"And still arrogant at that!"

"Still?"

"Yeah, well, uh… Nevermind."

"But please, tell me." Lucien insisted.

"What?"

"Who are you?" Lucien repeated.

"You don't wanna know how a bloke like me ended up in the French Ministry of Defense's Christmas party?"

"I'll find it out soon enough." Lucien said confidently. "Besides, you don't seem to be a threat."

"Nah, I'm not."

"If you didn't come here to threaten the security of my country, then it is none of my concern. I am more intrigued by who you really are."

"I'm…" Mundy closed his eyes for a minute, just to gather his thoughts. "You don't know it but uh… You've changed my life. You've changed my life, my days and my nights."

Lucien frowned.

"You've… Argh… Remember I told you you look like someone I know?"

Lucien chuckled.

"You never really stopped saying so."

"Yeah, sorry, it's just… Anyway, that bloke who really looks like you… He uh… You taught him everything and if he is my friend now, it's because of you. Bloody hell, I hope he is my friend. I see him like a friend but…"

Lucien puffed on his cigarette and listened carefully. Mundy shook his head as if to shoo away his thoughts.

"Anyway, he's just a friend, eh. But, uh…"

"You clearly have fallen for him." Lucien calmly said and Mundy bit his lip in embarrassment. "There is no shame to have."

"How d'you know?" Mundy asked. "How d'you know I…"

"It's the way you can't find your words. And trust me, I have seen more people possessed by love than my age lets you guess."

Mundy rolled up his eyes.

Oh I know… He thought.

"But please, come back to the tale you were telling me."

"Yeah, well, that bloke, he, uh… I really like him b-but he doesn't know it, nah."

"Can't you tell him?"

"No! Oh God, no… He's a magnet for sheilas, that bloke, a bit like you."

Lucien smiled proudly.

"That doesn't automatically prevent him from appreciating the company of men." He answered.

"You think so?"

"But of course. Personally, I don't mind much. Well, to be nearer the truth, I should say that I couldn't care less. Man, woman… Bah, same difference as you say in English."

Mundy opened wide eyes.

"Y-you like blokes?"

"I can, oui."

"Oh my God…" Mundy slapped his forehead.

"What does it have to do with me, though?" Lucien asked.

"Everything! I mean, no, I mean… See, I know the ladies run after you like bees after honey, I saw them back there. So I'm thinking that it's maybe the same for my friend, eh?"

"Maybe, but to each their own."

"C-can I ask you something?" Mundy hesitantly asked.

"You just did." Lucien calmly answered. "But go ahead."

"If I told you that uh, ahem, somewhere, or sometime, you'd meet an Aussie and uh… He'd be about my height, he wouldn't have a clue how to dress up or do anything fancy, and uh… H-he'd be a hunter, he'd live in a van, going through the desert and hunting."

"Hunting what?"

"Depends, he'd take contracts. Most of the time it's just pest control but occasionally, he'd take down a man… N-not because he wants to but because he's just good with a rifle and… And some people you can't let live like… Like some of the Nazis you caught."

Lucien's eyebrows jumped.

"Hm, I see."

"What would you think of that man?" Mundy asked, fumbling with his fingers on the dark brown leather armchair.

Lucien smirked.

"I would want to know him." Mundy's eyebrows jumped. "I've always had a weakness for the exotic and foreign. An Australian man, you say? That sounds exciting. Besides, if he is as shy and clumsy as you are, then I would definitely go and talk to him."

"Really?"

"Oui. You seem to doubt my words a lot, but I am sincere." Lucien smiled. "What profit would I get to not be honest?"

"Y-yeah, I guess you're right."

"May I ask, this man your heart is worried about, he is here, in this reception, non?"

"S-sort of, yeah." Mundy frowned. "But how did you guess?"

Lucien gave him that trademarked smile of his, the one where his eyes read him as if he was naked.

"For a man as shy as you seem to be, to manage to burst in a reception such as this, with a suit that you 'borrowed' and talking to a stranger like me, well, it's either a lot of money that you are after, or something utterly priceless."

Mundy was flabbergasted. Spy's mind had always been that sharp then, it was insane.

"And when I say something utterly priceless, I mean someone that you attached yourself so deeply that you cannot possibly think of anyone else. You, Monsieur Mundy, are quite the romantic type, despite the lack of self-care. Oui, romantic and very faithful."

"How the hell can you guess all that?"

"It is no guess. As I said, despite your timid personality, you didn't hesitate to breach these extremely protected walls for just a glimpse maybe, of the man your heart is now racing for. That is for the romantic side. The faithful one I get from your glasses."

"My glasses?"

"You went to the trouble of stealing this suit from someone, but you insist on wearing your own glasses, which could not match less well with the whole attire. Shy and romantic makes you as faithful in love as you are to your glasses." Lucien crushed his cigarette butt in the ashtray as a professor would end the demonstration of a mathematical theorem.

"Bloody hell…"

"Do I know him?" Lucien asked.

"Who?"

"The man you love."

"Yeah… Yeah you know him very well actually."

"May I know who it is?"

"N-nah, not yet… Not in the next fifteen-odd years, heh…" Mundy chuckled slightly. "Maybe one day I'll tell you."

"Should I then wait for a decade and a half?"

"I'm afraid so." Mundy answered smiling.

"I am way too impatient for that."

"Oh I know…"

"And if I really am like that friend of yours, then he surely knows that you love him."

Mundy's smile vanished.

"What?"

"Mundy, you are atrociously easy to read."

"So you know who-?"

"Oui." Lucien stood up and went to the impressive dark wooden door. He looked back at Mundy who had lowered his head and was staring at his boots. They didn't match with the black suit trousers. "Mundy?"

He raised his head.

"See you in fifteen years." And Lucien exited the room, leaving Mundy alone. He looked down at his boots again, trying to understand what he should take from that conversation.

"So, how did you find me?"

Mundy got startled and put a hand on his chest as a silhouette emerged from a thin cloud.

"Bloody hell, Spook! I thought you were still downstairs!"

"You heard me say it here and now, I have always been awfully impatient." Spy joked as he sat down on the armchair that his younger self had used a minute ago.

"Yeah, well… Were you here all along?"

"Oui."

"You heard everything?"

"And saw it too."

Mundy winced and looked away. He leaned back on his armchair and averted his gaze from Spy at all cost.

"And now I have a vague memory of it as well. After all, you were talking to me. But tell me, how did you find me?"

"Same as now." Mundy said.

Spy felt his embarrassment.

"So were you." He answered before silence fell.

"Spook?"

"Oui?"

"What he said about… The bloke I talked about. Is it true?"

"Oui."

"So you know?"

"Oui."

"Have you - have you known for a long time?"

"Quite a while." Spy answered simply.

"How long?"

"A few weeks now, roughly, but it strangely feels like decades." Spy scratched his head.

"Bugger…" Mundy hid his face in his hands.

"Sniper?"

"What?"

"Don't feel angry."

"I'm not, I'm just… I'm confused, alright? I don't know what to do, what to think anymore!"

"Why?" Spy asked calmly.

"Because you know!" Sniper stood up and headed away. He left the room and went down the stairs, rushing past people. He pushed them out of his way without apologising. He crossed the room when a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned and was about to roar at whoever dared stop him but his rage just vanished.

"Mundy."

He looked at his feet.

"Look at me."

"Nah, mate, I-I can't."

"Look at him." A voice whispered in his ear and Mundy yielded.

"Mundy," The young Lucien continued. "When I meet you again, in fifteen years, please remind me."

"Of what?"

"Remind me of the chat we had today."

"You think you'll forget it?"

"Non. I won't ever forget the man who broke into the reception under the highest security just to have a chat with me." The younger Lucien tapped his shoulder. "Goodbye."

Mundy nodded and left. When he got in the time machine again, he clicked three times on his watch and counted to twenty...

That night, he spent it thinking in utter silence, in his van. Mundy needed to calm his racing brain but he couldn't help it, it was running as fast as a hamster in a wheel.

Spy knew the truth. More than that, he had been knowing for the past fifteen-odd years now…

A knock broke his train of thought.

"Bugger off."

The door opened against his expectations and his will. It revealed the silhouette of a man in a suit. Mundy sighed as Lucien entered and shut the door after him. He sat down on his worn out couch, next to him.

"Mundy, we need to talk."

"I think I said everything already. You need to talk."

"Correct. I need to talk to you and ask you if you are upset or angry against me."

"No."

"But you still lock yourself up here because…?"

"Because I don't know what else to do."

"Ah, I see." Lucien nodded. "May I tell you what I think?"

Mundy nodded, albeit still not looking at Lucien, who swiftly removed his mask.

"We both know your side of the story. Aren't you curious to know mine?"

Mundy shrugged.

"Really? You don't want to know?" Lucien insisted.

"What would it change?"

"You can't know if you don't know my version of the story." Lucien answered calmly and Mundy sighed.

"Alright, go ahead."

Lucien cleared his throat. They were both sitting in the dark in the van and the small windows of it only let a very little amount of moonlight through.

"You have impressed me today. Of all the places you could have gone to, of all the people… You could have chosen to visit your grandparents, your parents! And yet you chose Paris, 1953."

Lucien paused.

"I can only imagine how often you think of me, then; how obsessed you are with me. I don't take it strangely, countless people have before you. But you stand out, Mundy. There is one thing that that cohort of people do not share with you."

Mundy turned his head to ask why.

"Ever since I saw you at this reception, in 1953, your image never left me."

Mundy frowned.

"The more I think about it, the more I think that in fact, you said it all in your first few words to me, in that smoking room. You said 'You have changed my life'. Did I? How so? Is it that I'm the first man you fall for?"

Lucien looked at Mundy's eyes.

"Non, it's not that, I can see it in your eyes. What is it then?"

Mundy didn't answer.

"Usually when I change people's lives, it is because I end it. But I didn't kill you and I never will, I can't. How did I change your life? Did you just mean that your mind was constantly busy with me? Was that it?"

Again, Lucien looked for the answer in Mundy's eyes.

"Non, it's not that." He sighed. "Whatever you meant by that is entirely up to you. I can but wonder. But I think you should know that I didn't tell you everything I thought back then, because I didn't know you as I do today."

Mundy raised a curious eyebrow.

"When you asked me what I would think about an Australian man like you, I didn't tell you the entire truth. But it isn't because I wanted to lie. It is because back then, I didn't have all the truth. However, today, I do. Shall I tell you?"

Mundy nodded slightly.

"Bien." Lucien took a deep breath. "If I were to meet a man like you, I would first be curious as I naturally am. I would get to know you, through asking you directly, or digging around, on my own. But I confirm what I said fifteen years ago. I would definitely come and talk to you."

Mundy was listening, his eyes riveted on the bit of sky through the window opposite them.

"And what would I discover? I would confirm what I had guessed fifteen years ago already. You are shy and very faithful, but also passionate. And, growing older, I would realise that what lasts in life is what you have inside of you, not the shell outside. I would learn to accept the stubble and the sideburns, the hat and the glasses, the rifle and the van."

Lucien paused and smiled to himself.

"More than that, I would fall for them all."

Mundy's heart jumped and his blood froze.

"The van? I would try to spend more time there, if you are in. The rifle? Seeing it means that you are close by. The hat? Underneath it is a good man. The glasses? They hide beautiful, if shy, eyes. The sideburns? They are you as much as you are them. The hair? I would give a lot to feel it between my fingers."

Mundy's jaw had dropped as he stared at Lucien now, the shock of what he just said painted on his face. Lucien was still looking through the window.

"I have fallen for you as much as you have for me. That is the difference between all these people who fell for me before you, and you. You, Mundy, and to put it bluntly... I find myself in love you."

Mundy put a hand on his mouth to cover his bewilderment. Silence fell. The Aussie was incapable of speech.

"What you did today, or shall I say fifteen years ago, that is quite unlike you, Mundy. You behaved very bravely. Not to say that you are not courageous, non, I have seen you at work and you are remarkable. I mean for a man as shy as you to choose to tell me that you love me, even if it's fifteen years in advance… It takes some courage. Especially as I am sure that deep down you knew that however twisted you would make your story sound to me, I would understand that the message in its most essential form was 'I love you'."

Mundy sighed and Lucien wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"I love you too, Mundy. You don't have to feel strange about it. You don't have to hold yourself back or think that whatever you feel for me is at best a dream or at worse, wasted."

Lucien smiled before continuing.

"And if you can accept the same man that you saw today but with fifteen more years, grey hair and lines on his face, then that poor old man would be delighted."

Mundy looked at Lucien.

"I…" He finally broke his silence. "I love you."

"Thus fulfilling your promise." Lucien answered.

"What promise?"

"You had said that in fifteen years you would tell me who was that man you kept in your heart." Lucien smiled.

"Yeah, well… It's you."

"Likewise."

"But wait," Mundy frowned. "You knew I loved you and you waited fifteen years like that?"

"I didn't know if I would love you back. Even though, your clumsiness that night was absolutely charming and I did wish that I could find someone like you, someone spontaneous, almost naive, very raw in your emotions, very true to yourself."

"Your complete opposite, eh?"

"Oui, indeed." They both chuckled.

"But someone who is passionate, faithful and honest, someone who would be the reason I want to open my eyes every morning, if it is to spend the day with them."

"You're romantic too, eh?"

"Overly so. It is almost a curse." Lucien answered with a smile before looking back in Mundy's eyes.

"I… I love that about you." Mundy said before leaning his head on Lucien's shoulder. "That, and all the rest actually."

"I am glad you do…"

Mundy felt that the sentence was left hanging, as if Lucien wasn't sure how to end it.

"...mon amour."

[...my love.]

Mundy closed his eyes and smiled. He blushed when he felt and heard Lucien kiss him on his hair.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #request 70

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

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What is something a cowboy would hate to have happen? Their horse getting hurt. What is something that you fill with air? Balloons. Can you think of something that you learned - but did not learn in school? I know this is vague, but just a lot of life experiences that you have to learn from, well, experiencing them. What is something that moves very slowly? Sloths. What is something that you are afraid of? What am I not afraid of? But to give you something specific, I’m afraid of never getting better/getting worse.

What is something that goes up and down? Elevators. What is something that makes a lot of noise? Fire alarms when the batteries need to be changed. Suuuuper annoying. What is something you might bring on a date with you? I can’t think of something specific, I’d just bring my usual things like my phone and wallet. What is something that flies? Flies. What is something that makes you itch? Dry skin. What is something that your parent disapproves of? My mom doesn’t like all the re-closing again of restaurants and such here. Name something that you can beat. Hmm. I don’t know. What is something that friends might swap with one another? Friendship bracelets. What is something that you put in a salad? Hardboiled eggs. What is something that you might freeze? An ice pack. What is something that a person might knit? A scarf. What is something that you can buy a roll of? Paper towels. What is something that you shake before using? Coffee creamer. What is something that is offered on an airplane flight? Something to drink. What is something that a woman might leave a lipstick mark on? A glass. Who is your favorite superhero? Iron Man. What is something that people typically complain about? Lack of money. What is something someone might dig up? Fossils. What is something that a witch might need for Halloween? A cauldron. What is something that people try to sneak in or out? Their own snacks into the movie theater. Name something that is bubbly. Champagne. What might be a good reason to get a divorce? If one or both have given up on the marriage and aren’t willing or wanting to put in the work or energy. Name something that gets squeezed out of a bottle. Mustard. Name something you would like to do before you die. I want to do a lot of traveling.

What is something you might eat while on a diet? Lots of fruits and veggies. Name something you think might exist in 100 years. Uhhh. Maybe then people will finally be living like The Jetsons. What is something you might smell before you buy it? Perfume. What is something you might do in front of a mirror? See how an outfit looks. What is something that a parent always says to their children? ”We’ll see.” haha. Which always meant no. Name something that is sticky. Tape. What is a childhood food that you enjoyed? I used to love pizza as a kid, but I’m not that crazy about it now. I like it, but it’s not my favorite food. When I was a kid I always said pizza was my favorite and I looked forward to pizza lunch days and pizza parties at school. What is something sold on an infomercial? Exercise equipment. Name something you might find in your couch cushions. In TV shows and movies people always find a bunch of change under their couch cushions, but I don’t think there’s anything under ours. What is something you close your eyes to do? Pray. What is something that you can fix with tape? A ripped paper. What is something you've been known to do multiple times a day? Take my medicine. What is something that you hold carefully? A baby. Name a place where you are expected to use your indoor voice. Church. What might you find in a haunted house? ~Spooky~ stuff. Who or what might you find at the North Pole? Santa, of course.

What is something that you always do before going to bed? My nighttime routine before bed consists of scrolling through Tumblr, doing surveys, and listening to ASMR. What is something that can make you healthy or stronger? Eating healthy and working out. Name something that a dog does. Play catch. Name something that comes in pairs. Socks. What is something that you might find in outer space? Planets? ha. Can you name something you might see on or at the beach? Seashells. Name something that is in your kitchen. My Keurig. What is something that you do on a summer day? Stay home with all my fans blowing on me? ha. What is a television show that teens typically love to watch? I don’t know what shows are popular with the teens nowadays. I’m old.

What is something you do with your selfies? Add a filter to it. What is the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning? Check the time. Name a food that you can eat with your hands. Pizza. Why might you decide not to respond to a text? Sometimes they don’t require a response. I usually find it pointless to send back just an “okay.” I like that on the iPhone you have the option of “liking” a text so you can acknowledge you saw it without having to respond. What is something that you never leave home without? My mask now. Where might you hear music? At the store. What is a kid's game that adults might also still enjoy playing? Kid’s board games like Connect Four, Candy Land, etc. Name something you see at a carnival. I’m just interested in the fried food and sweets. What is something that parents encourage their children to do? Their homework. What is one thing that you always have in your pantry? Pork Maruchan ramen. Why might you be late for work? Traffic. What is something that you might put in your coffee? I always put creamer. What might you find in a medicine cabinet? Tylenol. What is the household chore that you hate the most? I don’t particularly enjoy doing any of them. Name a food that might go bad before you get a chance to eat it. Fruits and veggies go bad pretty quick. What is an important number that you should memorize? You should have an emergency contact person whose number you memorize just in case. What is something that only happens every few years? Leap years. Name something that you don't want to discuss during the holidays. People tend to steer clear from politics. What do you run out of the most quickly at home? Coffee creamer. Name a way that people communicated before texting was "a thing". They had to actually call people :O What is something that guests do at a wedding reception? Dance.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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since0202 · 2 years

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Sneak peek: chapter fifty

The only living girl in New York

She glanced up and smiled at the tall, solid figure next to her.

“Ready to wow them?” he said conspiratorially. Maya gave her best smile and nodded.

“Arden!” One of the suits pronounced as they approached. “Good to see you!”

“Actually, I—” Maya tried to butt in, but there was a guffaw from the third suit as he said:

“Oh, Arden, I forgot to ask the other day, did you get those blueprints greenlit from legal?” The original suit who had interrupted her swiftly changed the subject and Maya felt boxed out.

Twenty minutes later, Maya leaned against the bar and caught the eye of the young blonde bartender.

“Whiskey, neat, splash of water,” Maya grumbled.

“Yeesh,” Noah said, leaning against the bartop and taking a swig of his Modelo. “That looked like it went…”

“Nah,” Noah said, drawing out the sound of his dissent. “It’s probably fine. Professor Arden will smooth things over. You’ll get another shot.”

“I look like an idiot, I feel like an idiot,” Maya knocked back more whiskey than she meant to and grimaced. “Egh.”

“Did you get to talk to those guys from Horton and Sons?” Maya asked. Noah just nodded, scanning his eyes across the crowd of people. “And?” Maya prompted.

“I’m a shoe-in. Obviously,” he threw his head back, his hair swishing back in an unapologetically endearing way and Maya rolled her eyes as she smiled over her whiskey glass.

“Unless what?” she raised an eyebrow at him and downed the rest of her whiskey, reveling in the burn.

“Yesss!” he exclaimed throwing his arm over her shoulder and pulling her toward the elevator that would lead them down to the lobby. Maya glanced at Arden as she went and he shot her a reassuring smile. She tried to swallow the thick lump in her throat.

Maya ducked down and gave a hearty wave. Naoh was positively buzzing with excitement behind her.

“Hey! Thanks for coming to grab us,” Maya said.

“He’s not a—,” Maya started.

“Where’s Emmett?” Maya asked.

“He went to see his friends in Queens,” Rosalie responded before sliding into the roadway and speeding down toward their intended destination.

“Ah,” Maya replied. Seeing a friend in Queens meant hunting.

Rose got the message loud and clear from Maya’s pained eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. In her pocket, her phone continued to buzz quietly as it did most nights.

#taking time #sneak peek #Chapter fifty sneak peek #paul lahote fanfiction #twilight fanfiction #the cullens

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binnieslilcheekies · 4 years

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Blood In The Wind

chapter three ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── warnings; mature themes, arranged/forced marriage, sexual themes [at times], blood drinking, angst, all the good stuff ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── As we pulled up in front of The Park’s large mansion after being buzzed in at the large metal gates, the feeling of dread in my stomach did nothing but get worse. I still couldn’t believe this was happening. I couldn’t believe this is where they lived.. Yeah he might be an ass.. but I’d be lying if I said I was attracted to him. I could never let him know though, he’d just become more obnoxious. My parents stood in front of the large doors, me behind them. After knocking, we were greeted by Mr. Park. We all entered the house, me in tow. I looked around at the large entry hall that had two large spiral staircases to each side of the room. My mouth dropped as I seen the huge room. This place is insane just for four people.. I thought to myself. That’s when I noticed all the people, scattered all around the room. Just by looking at them you could tell they we’re all wealthy and of ‘‘status’‘, the piano being played in the background along with the visuals in front of me. I sighed to myself slightly as my parents were greeted my Mrs. Park and Jimin’s brother. I smiled softly at them and shook their hands, making sure to thank them for their efforts in tonight, no matter how much I didn’t want it to happen. That’s when I seen him. Stood on the landing between the two staircases, elbows perched on the stair railing. I caught his eye. As soon as he saw me, even from the distance, I saw that smirk sprawl itself back across his face and he stood up straight. I couldn’t help a slight blush come across my face as he fixed his tie, straightened his perfectly tailored suit jacket as he came down the stairs. I watched nervously, not knowing where to look but the only place my eyes seem to land was on him.. Fuck it. I honestly couldn’t lie to myself anymore.. ‘’shit. I have feelings for an ass..’’ I thought to myself

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he reached his hands to a server passing by with a silver platter. Jimin reached and took two glasses of champagne. As he reached my parents and I, he smiled. My mother looked at me, ‘‘We’ll give you two some time’‘ she said, taking my father’s arm and walking away. Probably to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Park. Jimin greeted them just as they walked away. He handed me one of the glasses and laughed slightly. ‘‘What’s so funny?’‘ I said, a slight chuckle to my words. ‘‘I’m just surprised that you showed up.. Knowing how you feel about this whole situation’‘ For a second I forgot and sighed, brought back to reality as I took a sip out of the champagne. ‘’Yeah well, it’s not like we have a choice, is it?’’ I said raising my eyebrow. He shook his head and looked down. ‘’No, it’s not, but look.. It mightn’t be the worst thing ever’’ he spoke and shrugged, ‘’...At least I’m gorgeous’’ he finished with a laugh, quickly drinking his glass, handing it to another server before taking another two glasses. ‘‘Still stuck up I take it.’‘ I said, downing the rest of my glass, giving it to him, swapping for a full one. Jimin chuckled lightly. ‘’You’ll come to love it’‘ he said with a wink ‘‘now, take a walk with me?’‘ he said, gesturing towards the hallway between the staircases.

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ohnojustimagine · 5 years

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Queen for the Night

Sunil Singh/Reader/Samir Singh; smut, 2370 words

A very nice anon asked for some Singh brothers! Unfortunately that was so long ago that nice anon has quite possibly since moved on, but hey, I did finally finish it.

Sometimes you seem to spend half your working life trying to locate things that aren't where they should be. WWE is scarily efficient for a company that operates on a scale as vast as it does, but even so, stuff goes missing. Which is why you're currently somewhere in the depths of tonight's venue, checking the numbers on random equipment cases, trying desperately to find these parts for one of the lighting rigs before your director completely loses his shit.

And the last thing you need right now is to be interrupted, but apparently you're not going to get a choice in that, because it seems the Singh brothers have decided you're their next target. You're pretty sure that Sunil and Samir have tried hitting on practically every woman backstage at Smackdown, and maybe you should be kind of offended that it's taken this long for your turn to come around. But here they are, with their sunglasses and their attitude and that has-to-be-fake Bollywood award, sauntering towards you, and for fuck's sake, you mutter to yourself, taking a deep breath, willing yourself to be polite.

"Hey there, pretty lady," says Samir, leaning up against one of the cases. "You look kind of lonely."

"No," you reply, trying not to be too short with him, because however annoying these two are, they're still talent, which means you're way below them in the backstage hierarchy. "Just busy."

"Busy," Sunil repeats, nodding.

"Maybe you're working too hard?" Samir says. "Maybe you need to relax."

"Probably," you allow, because you can't argue with that.

"You know what's really relaxing?" he asks.

"What?" you reply, painfully aware you're not going to like the answer.

"Some Bollywood loving."

You sigh, because if this is their pitch then no fucking wonder they've been through the entire women's roster and most of the female crew without ever managing to get any. "Really?" you reply through gritted teeth. "And what would that involve?"

"The two of us," Sunil says, "and you."

"So, like, a threeway?" You look at them, unimpressed.

They both nod, almost pathetically eager.

"God," you say, laughing despite yourself, because well, at least they're direct. "I mean, couldn't you maybe ask me out for a drink or dinner or something first?"

You see them exchange vaguely terrified glances, and then Sunil says, slowly, cautiously, "Would you... like to have dinner with us?"

"No," you tell him. "No, I don't think I'd like that."

They both look down, and they seem so sadly, resignedly accepting of your answer that you feel a twinge of... something. You're not sure exactly what, and maybe you're just in a contrary mood or maybe it's just your current sexual dry spell clouding your judgment, but they are kind of hot. And, if you're honest with yourself, you're pretty over dating huge dudes with simmering anger issues and egos bigger than their biceps. Not that Samir and Sunil are lacking in ego (or, frankly, biceps) but there's something weirdly, almost charmingly misplaced about their hubris.

"But yeah," you say. "I would be down for some Bollywood loving." You shrug. "Why not?"

They both gaze at you for a second, like they're frozen in place, and then turn to stare at each other, wide-eyed in apparent shock.

"You'll be our Princess," Sunil stutters out, practically falling over the words.

"Queen," Samir corrects him. "You'll be our Queen for the night." He gives you a gallant little bow, and crap, you think, because you're actually kind of into this. "Would tonight work for you?" he asks.

"Yeah, I think it would," you say, wondering what the actual hell you've gotten yourself into, but strangely, surprisingly impatient to find out.

It's late by the time you make it to their hotel room, but they're ready for you, opening the door as soon as you knock, ushering you inside with murmured greetings.

They're both wearing black pants, Sunil's teamed with a purple shirt, Samir in blue, their hair wet and slicked-back, obviously freshly-showered, and they smell really good. You feel decidedly under dressed, still in your work jeans and a slightly grubby t-shirt, but they look at you with an almost glowing approval that makes you feel a whole lot more special than you're sure you have any right to.

Samir presents you with a glass of champagne, and you want to tell them they don't need to make a thing of it, act like this is some big deal, but you suspect that would be rude, so you keep the thought to yourself, instead taking a sip. And you're kind of taken aback by the taste, because it's obviously something expensive, way more upmarket than you're used to, and you don't know why, but suddenly, you're a little nervous.

They both drink, not saying anything, giving each other quick, awkwardly nervous glances, back and forth, and for a second you can't work out what their problem is but then ohhh, you realize. Because they very clearly don't know how to get started, which is actually kind of sweet.

"Maybe..." you say, and they look at you. "Maybe we could kiss? Make out for a bit, see where things go?"

They nod, in unison, and you're pretty sure you're going to have to hold their hands a little, lead them through this, which is more effort than you were expecting, but you've come this far, you tell yourself. You're planning on getting some dick tonight, and you'll do whatever needs to be done to make that happen.

So you drink down the rest of your champagne, and they do the same, the three of you setting down your glasses. "Okay," you say, taking a step towards Samir, who at least seems perhaps a tiny bit less apprehensive than his brother.

He looks at you, eyes flickering down to your mouth as you move even closer, holding your breath, uncertain, but then you kiss him. And there's a split second of awkwardness as you both take a moment to find your way into it, and then... then it's good. It's really good, way better than you were anticipating, because his lips are soft, and hot, his mouth opening to yours, your tongue tangling against his, slow and deep and sensual.

His hands are on your upper arms, sliding up over your shoulders, your neck, cradling your face, but then there are other hands on your waist.

Because for a minute you'd forgotten about Sunil, but you can feel him, standing behind you, and you pull back, turning to face him, leaning in to meet his mouth as he kisses you. He's more immediately demanding than his brother, though perhaps that's just the mood changing, becoming more electric, desire sparking between the three of you, something hot in the air around you.

They both stop, and though neither of them speaks, you see them exchange a knowing look, nodding slightly as if in understanding. And then Sunil's behind you, again, but this time he's taking off your t-shirt, pulling it over your head, whispering in your ear how beautiful you are as he unhooks your bra, and Samir's unbuttoning your jeans, slipping them gently down your legs, your panties going with them, every move as if smoothly coordinated between them, and perhaps, you think, you didn't give them enough credit, because they sure as hell seem to know what they're doing now.

When you're naked, they each take one of your hands, leading you towards the bed between them and somehow that's so very hot, the way they help you up, gently lie you down. Sunil arranges the pillows under your head and Samir carefully, almost reverently, moves your legs apart, stroking up your calves, caresses sliding across your skin.

You watch as they again look at each other in some kind of unspoken communication, something being agreed without words, and then Samir leans down between your thighs.

And you can't help sighing a little, kind of wishing he'd just fuck you because you're more than ready for it, but then his mouth is on you, and suddenly you're not wishing for anything else but exactly this.

Because holy shit but he knows what he's doing, and you can't even think, or breathe, or... you don't even know, because it seems his tongue is taking you to places you haven't been in a really, really long time. Possibly ever, but then, just when you're well on your way to a what you can tell is going to be a spectacular orgasm, he... stops. He just stops, and you whine in protest, grabbing at him, trying to pull him back down, desperate to finish, but instead he shifts up the bed until he's beside you, leaning down to kiss you.

And before you can tell him that isn't what you need, Sunil's taking his place between your legs, face pressed in close against you, licking you. And whoa, you think, because you don't know if they've compared notes at some point or if this is just some kind of freak genetic talent, but he's every bit as good at this as his brother.

You moan into Samir's mouth, kissing away the taste of yourself on his lips, his hands running up over your breasts, pinching your nipples as Sunil's tongue fucks in and out of you, teasing around the entrance of your pussy before moving back up to lap at your clit.

And though you try to breathe, slow yourself down, you quickly feel your orgasm building inside you once again, but at least this time you're not so surprised when Sunil stops, smiling up at you, licking his lips as he looks across at his brother.

They move around you, swapping positions so Samir's again eating you out and Sunil's kissing you, and maybe you should protest, try and take charge, because it seems they're not going to stop, not going to let you get off until they've had their fill of you. But, to your surprise, you kind of like it, this feeling of helplessness, of being taken care of, the way that every time you get even close to coming they'll both pull away, silently changing places with each other, two mouths on you until you're not sure you can tell who's who anymore, closing your eyes and surrendering to it.

Your pussy feels as if it's throbbing, the empty ache at your core seeming to intensify with every desperate breath you take, feeling as if you might come with every touch, crying out in frustration as you're denied yet again, whimpering until there's another tongue on you, licking hot and needy, sending you even higher.

But you're past the point of no return, now, and so you open your eyes. You've been too caught up to realize they've both already taken off their clothes, and you stare at them, hungry, taking in the sight of smooth skin and lean muscles; two hard cocks that only make the longing inside you even more urgent.

"Please," you say. "Please fuck me."

And they don't say anything. "I need you to fuck me," you repeat, prepared to beg for it if you have to.

"Okay," Samir agrees, and Sunil nods, reaching across to grab a box of condoms from the nightstand.

He keeps one for himself, handing another to Samir, and you lie there, waiting, watching as Sunil rolls the condom down over his cock, giving you just enough time to calm down a little, but even so, you moan loudly as soon as he's on top of you. You feel like you might sob with relief as he enters you, because you're so fucking ready for it, his cock filling you up just right, just like you've been aching for. He starts off slow, but you're way too far gone for anything so gentle, arching up your hips and grabbing his ass, urging him on to fuck you harder, faster. And he understands, giving you what you need until you're biting down on your bottom lip, trying not to scream as your long-delayed orgasm rushes up on you. Sunil thrusts into you even harder as you come, and you're writhing underneath him, feeling as if it might never stop, your whole body shaking. But he fucks you right through it and then beyond, muttering under his breath as he finishes, exhaling, closing his eyes, his cock deep inside you.

Samir's kneeling beside you, waiting his turn, his hand on his cock, stroking, and you look at him as Sunil rolls off you.

"Do you want..." he says, and you see him swallow, take a visible breath, as if he's having to consciously control himself, and that's so fucking hot. "Do you want to wait?" he asks. "Do you need a minute?"

And you don't answer, instead simply grabbing his hand, pulling him down onto you, opening your legs even wider and whining with the feeling of it as he pushes into you. He's maybe a little thicker than his brother, needing no encouragement to go hard, and you're really feeling it in just the right way.

You're maybe going to come again, so close to the edge of it, and god, you think, because you just want more, but you breathe in, holding yourself back, wanting to wait, make it last, for now only revelling in the sensation of being fucked like this. You scrape your nails down Samir's back, light enough to tease without leaving marks, watching his face as he comes, his moans filling the air around you, resounding inside your head until you're dizzy.

He pulls out, and you whine, but he's right there next to you, Sunil on your other side.

You lie in between them, catching your breath as their hands roam over your body, Samir kissing along your jaw, Sunil licking your ear, his tongue wet on your skin.

"Can..." you say, uncertain. "Can I stay?"

"Of course," they reply, in unison, looking up, smiling at you

"You really are our Queen," Samir says, and you laugh, happily, because what you feel like is a goddess, like you're in heaven, and you don't ever want to come back down.

#ohnojustwrites #wwe imagine #wwe smut #sunil singh imagine #samir singh imagine #singh brothers imagine

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winterromanov · 5 years

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we will grow taller together - bucky x reader

PART THREE - YOU’RE VERY LOUD FOR SOMEONE SO SMALL

parts: masterlist

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

extract: He sniffs what could be a laugh if he had any energy whatsoever. “I wish you were psychic. Then you could maybe tell me what goes through a six-year-old’s head.”

genre: nanny x single father!au

taglist: @blindedbyyourgrace17 @verygraphicink @chubby-dumplin @igotkatiepowers @welcome-to-my-studylife @bi-bi-bi-bisexualz @mywinterwolf @mychemicalimagines (still open, message to be tagged)

The following week or so is swallowed by the pre-Thanksgiving rush, so other than a quick text to confirm his number and a Facebook request you’ve not heard all that much from James. Work is mayhem as you try to learn at least eighty holiday drinks combinations and you go shopping with Natasha for Thanksgiving tableware, as her and Steve are hosting Steve’s parents for the first time at their apartment. Your whole family lives on the West Coast so you’ve decided not to make the trip to your childhood home this year. It makes you sad in a constant, throbbing kind of way, to spend Thanksgiving without them, but you’d mutually decided with your mom and dad that the trip just isn’t economically or temporally viable. Even the cheapest flights exceed two hundred dollars and you’d end up spending most of the vacation cramped in a plane seat and listening to babies screaming anyway. Natasha offers a place at their table but you can tell she’s a little anxious about impressing Steve’s family and you’d rather not add any hassle. Looks like it’ll probably be white wine and Friends re-runs for you this year, but at least you’re not fucking working for once.

You think everything has returned to normal. So much so, in fact, that when the weekend rolls around and you turn up to Steve and Natasha’s place in a party dress for their pre-Thanksgiving do it doesn’t cross your mind that James might also turn up. Or what will happen if he does.

“Looking sexy, (Y/N),” Natasha clicks her tongue approvingly when she answers the door, hand on her hip. Your frock is dark blue velvet and long-sleeved, hugging your figure in a way that makes you feel more self-confident than you actually are. It is pretty sexy, you think, but your attempts are always nothing compared to Natasha’s. Her dress is elegant and black and split all the way down the front to enhance her already impressive cleavage, and combined with the gentle curl of her red hair and matching lipstick she looks like a rebellious Hollywood starlet.

That’s always been Natasha, though. She always looks beautiful, exuding a natural class, but also in a dangerous kind of way. She looks like she could break your neck and smile while doing it. It’s pretty fucking powerful, to be honest.

“Nothing new there, then,” you remark, stepping inside. Natasha smirks and hands you a glass of champagne from the table by the door. Tipsy laughter and a Taylor Swift song play from the kitchen, so you follow Natasha’s clicking black heels to the main room of the party.

So far, it isn’t so crowded, but Steve and Natasha are pretty popular (Steve because he’s A Really Nice Guy, Natasha because she isn’t) so you expect the couches and corners will fill up as the night draws on. You recognise most of the people chatting over bowls of chips and hummus but you only know Steve by name, so you naturally gravitate towards him once Natasha’s elbow is caught by a well-built man with brown hair.

Steve is talking to a broad, dark-skinned guy with cropped black hair that you keep seeing around. Both of them look at you when you come over, the unnamed man scanning you discretely up and down with a half-smile on his face.

“(Y/N)!” Steve announces excitedly, squeezing your shoulder. “You know Sam, right?”

“I do not,” you reply, shaking his hand, “But I’m always happy to meet new people.”

“Likewise,” Sam replies. He scrubs up well in a smart shirt and shoes, Steve sporting a similar garb. As is usually the case with these things the girls have obviously made more effort, but in your experience, if a man has combed his hair and put on cologne they’re already too good to be true. “Steve may have mentioned you a coupla’ times.”

“He has?” You quirk an eyebrow, and Steve shrugs. He doesn’t look embarrassed about the fact. “All good, I hope.”

“Mostly. Although, there was an incident at one of Natasha’s parties in your junior year that you might—“

“Okay, so what happens in a crappy basement apartment during college under the influence of extremely cheap beer stays there,” you interject, the two men laughing, “I’m an adult now. All that stuff is behind me, I can assure you.”

You chat to the two of them a while longer, you and Sam mostly swapping funny stories about Steve—he feels like your safety conversation starter, the thing you have in common. Eventually Natasha drags Steve off into the kitchen and you’re left with Sam alone. What is it with Steve and abandoning you with his friends? Not that Sam is a problem. He’s attractive and funny, your sense of humour instantly clicking with his.

“So, (Y/N),” Sam says seriously, “Would you like another drink from the Rogers free bar?”

When you look down at your glass you realise it’s empty already. You’re not a big drinker, not anymore, but another glass to ease any surface anxiety wouldn’t hurt. After all, you think the guy in the jarringly expensive suit by the window might be Tony Stark, the tech billionaire, and the sheer amount of wealth that pours from his figure has left you on edge. That, and the fact you have always strongly believed that billionaires are unethical. Maybe another glass would give you the confidence to tell him that.

(You have no idea how Steve and Nat know Tony Stark, because you know enough about both of them to acknowledge he’s not their typical company.)

You shrug your shoulders and let him take your glass. “Sure. Thanks.”

Sam disappears and you trail after him at a distance, hovering outside the kitchen. You nod to the beat of a Vampire Weekend track, not really paying attention when the buzzer goes off, because people are expected to come and go. Natasha smiles as she slips past you to the door, deftly pulling the latch aside with a flick of her fingers.

Your body straightens from your slouching position against the wall when you realise who is waiting in the hall.

James. James is there, a small child clinging to his neck, the metallic frames of her bright pink sunglasses catching the hallway light.

“Hi,” you hear him say breathlessly, “Sorry I’m so late. Clover has—Clover wanted to see you both, so I couldn’t… Well. She wouldn’t let me leave her with the babysitter.”

“I don’t like Mrs Mary.” A child’s voice—Clover’s voice—responds, her tone low and sullen. “I like Auntie Nat.”

“It’s a good job that I like you too then, huh?” Natasha’s arms reach out and James hands her his daughter. “Nice sunglasses. Always useful in November.”

“If you wear sunglasses you can cry and people won’t notice.”

Yikes. The comment leaves the two adults stunned for a moment, before Natasha combs a strand of blonde hair out of Clover’s eyes, smiling fondly. “Let’s see if we can find you some cookies.”

You move out the way when Natasha comes back down the hallway, watching as James closes the door behind him. He starts when he sees you standing there, but his edges soften when he realises it’s you who is watching. He looks even more exhausted than the evening in his apartment, his eyes grey and hollow, shoulders dipping. He still manages a watery smile for you.

“Tough day?” you ask, even though it’s obvious. His mouth opens. Nods wearily.

“You could call it that.”

“If it’s any consolation, an old lady shouted at me for putting a snowflake made out of chocolate sprinkles on her mocha because she doesn’t like cold weather. I was like…I’m not paid to be psychic, Brenda, or whatever your name is.”

He sniffs what could be a laugh if he had any energy whatsoever. “I wish you were psychic. Then you could maybe tell me what goes through a six-year-old’s head.”

You smile gently, sympathetically. “I think a lot of people would have a hard time telling you that.”

Sam then reappears with your drink, but takes one look at James’ expression before sighing and disappearing again. Moments later he emerges with a second glass of champagne and shoves it into his grip.

The party returns to normal for about thirty minutes after, Clover bouncing comfortably between her dad and Nat and Steve and Sam, bright and funny and charming all the guests she doesn’t know with her gap-toothed grin. But it’s like—it’s like a light flicks in her head and suddenly she’s having a meltdown in the bathroom, screaming through tears she doesn’t know how to control. You can hear James talking to her and trying to calm her down, but his voice keeps wobbling, like he’s on the verge of breaking down too. Taking a deep breath for courage, you twist the knob on the bathroom door and invade a conversation you should probably stay out of.

James eyes glance up at you in desperate surprise. The shock also freezes Clover, like the lull in the middle of a hurricane. Her tiny face is red and wet with tears, pained in a way that is heart-breaking to see on any child. Your hand brushes across James’ back as you crouch to meet her height. Blue eyes scrutinise every single inch of your body.

“So. You’re Clover Barnes.” You delicately offer your hand and Clover looks at it, faced scrunched, before slotting hers into yours. “I’m (Y/N). I’m a friend of your dad and Uncle Steve and Auntie Nat.”

Clover blinks back, but doesn’t say anything. She’s not screaming though, so at least that’s something. You’ve done that, at least. Even if it’s just out of shock.

“I have to say, Clover, you’re very loud for someone so small.” You try not to smile as she looks mildly offended at this observation on her height, because six year old priorities, right? That’s what’s really going through her head. The fact that she’s perhaps half an inch shorter than the other girls in her class. “But people used to say that about me, too. There’s nothing wrong about being loud, but there’s no point in having such a big voice if no-one can understand you. You gotta talk to your dad if something is upsetting you—I’ve been told you’re super clever so I’m absolutely certain you can tell him what’s up.”

Clover is silent for a moment, and you wonder if your spontaneous pep talk (which you somehow pulled straight out of your ass) will go totally ignored, but she takes a shaky breath and looks James straight in the eyes.

“I don’t wanna go to grandma and grandpa’s for Thanksgiving,” she sniffles, “I heard you talking on the phone and I don’t wanna go. Please don’t make me go. I wanna stay here with you. Please don’t send me away.”

James almost crumbles away into nothing when he grabs her into a hug, squeezing all the air out of her lungs. Her hands slowly curl around his neck, meeting at the nape, her face burrowed deep into his shoulder.

“I won’t send you anywhere, I promise,” James murmurs. His eyes catch yours and he looks at you in a mixture of amazement and thankfulness and more prominently relief. “Sweetheart. Baby. You’re not going anywhere.”

The tantrum must have tired Clover out because slowly, gradually, she flops in James’ arms; her eyes flutter closed while still pressed in James’ shoulder, so he rises and gestures for you to open the bathroom door. Natasha and Steve open up their spare bedroom so you follow him in quietly, pulling back the bedsheets so he can slot Clover in to sleep the rest of the evening off. She looks so peaceful and relaxed, like a normal six-year-old girl, like she could wake up again and everything would be normal and okay.

But you know—nothing about this is normal. You thought that Steve was being a bit over-the-top about them needing help, but you can see it now. It’s not so eccentric. They need something. Something.

When James pulls the door so only a small shaft of light from the hall glows on Clover’s tranquil face, his hand curls round your wrist.

“I take back what I said, that time at my apartment.” His eyes are frantic. Pleading. “I do need your help. Please, (Y/N). I need so much fucking help.”

You turn your hand so that it clasps his, squeezing tightly. “I’m here.”

#ugh im emo #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #we will grow taller together #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes au #fanfic #fic #marvel fic

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