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#everyone else's have just been a chaotic mess that's a huge pain in the ass to sort
syn0vial · 6 months
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Wyll Voicelines: Reviving/Dying
A compilation of Wyll’s voicelines when he’s reviving (AKA, using the “help” action) on a downed character or being downed himself.
Reviving (Negative Approval)
Here we go.
You should be more careful.
Coming.
Hero on demand.
As a favour.
If it can't wait.
Miracle worker.
Nothing but trouble.
Just the bare minimum.
I'll do what I can.
Reviving (Neutral Approval)
Bet on the Blade.
Up and at 'em!
A tight scrape.
Down but not out.
I better hurry.
A helpful hand.
On my way.
That's what I'm here for.
Reviving (Positive Approval)
A life worth saving.
On your feet.
Sorting you out.
Making haste.
What are friends for?
By Balduran's bones, I've got you!
No one left behind!
Stay calm - I'm coming!
I won't fail you!
Reviving (Romantic Interest)
Help's on the way.
Take my hand.
You can count on me.
Coming for you!
I've got your back!
Stay with me!
Our tale's not over.
I won't fail you!
I won't let you down.
Can't do it without you.
Upon Being Downed
I'm down!
Help...
I need a hand... quickly!
Healer! Please!
Mizora... is that... you?
I can't die here... not now...
I don't want to die!
I need help!
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derekmorganscrocs · 3 years
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Galentines Gone Wrong
Pairing: Wendell Bray x Reader, Valentine’s Special.
Word Count: 2,623
Summary: Y/n Booth is an FBI agent who works under her brother Seeley Booth and is also partnered with the Jeffersonian. Valentines rolls around and Cam, Daisy, and Y/n are all painfully single. Brennen and Angela join in and the group decides it’s girls night, get absolutely smashed, cause major chaos and get arrested for disturbing the peace. When their counterparts show up to bail them out, girls night turns to date night... or whatever this is.
Edit, March 11th: I hate the end of this. I reread it and it’s lowkey trash, but I’m going to keep it up because people seem to be enjoying it. Just a disclaimer that this is not my best work.
Notes: Tbh I second guessed this yesterday, hence the late post. I want to clarify that Wendell IS NOT preying on a drunk girl, and there was no drunk hookup. This is definitely not my favourite thing I’ve written and I was so out of ideas for the ending, but fck it, I have a migraine and feel like the personification of death. ALSO I WOULD NEVER USE GALENTINES IRL IK ITS LAME BUT I SIMPLY DO NOT CARE. HOLDIDAY SPIRIT BABES. Anyway, on with the show.
It’s been a long night. Fun, but long. You wake up against Daisy’s side, stretching lazily, and still partially drunkenly. As you sit up, you recall the events that led to your current seat in a drunk tank.
The five of you ended up in a biker bar, huge leather-clad and big bearded dudes all over the damn place. Despite being big scary bikers, they were chill and actually bought half of your drinks. Then you and Daisy got a little too close to an attractive younger biker, and his girlfriend was not having it. So an argument turned full on brawl caused the lot of you to bail out of the bar and trek back into town.
Only you were real rowdy, laughing and singing, a little to loudly for anyone’s liking. And got the cops called on you. And got thrown in a dunk tank. Unfortunately “you can’t arrest me, I am the law” doesn’t work if you’re drunk. The cops weren’t a fan of your badge, either.
You’re torn from your thoughts at the sound of voices down the hall, and you stumble over the the bars of the cell, holding onto them for balance. A half-hour nap didn’t do much to sober you up. The voices get closer, and your friends and brother walk in. Wendell’s the first one you notice, your eyes immediately darting to him. He’s wearing a hot ass black jacket, jeans and a white T-shirt, and you stare at him for a lot longer than you should.
“Hey, BJ. Never thought I’d see you on the other side of the bars.” Hodgins laughs at your expression of annoyance, and lets the cop they’re with open the cell door. He walks over to grab Angela, and you scoff.
“I told you to stop calling me BJ. I know you mean Booth Junior, but other people might think something else,” you mutter, much less than impressed at the innuendo tied to the nickname.
Your brother and Sweets go collect Brennan and Daisy, and Cam stands up on her own. She’s the most level-headed of all of you, and she’s completely sobered up now. Wendell walks to your side, your brother is too occupied with his (much less coordinated than you are) wife. Wendell puts an arm around you, and you gladly lean into him, hands settling on his chest.
“You’ll never guess what we did,” you giggle drunkenly against Wendell’s chest, overcome with the giddiness of a schoolgirl with a crush.
“Apparently you guys disturbed a lot of peace.” Wendell has somewhat of an impressed/concerned/entertained smirk on his face. He looks down at you, massively interested in the story as to how you got here. Not that he’ll hear it anytime soon.
“How’d you know?!” You look up at him with surprise written all over your face, a gasp escaping your lips, and it takes a lot for him not to burst out laughing.
“The sheriff told me. Let’s take you home, okay?”
“Okay,” you mumble, much more sullenly than five seconds ago.
Wendell keeps an arm around you, more than a little worried that you’re gonna fall over, and takes you to his car. You get in the front seat, smacking his hand away as he tries to help with your seatbelt. After successfully buckling the seatbelt, you glance back at him with a smirk.
“You know if you wanted to get on top of me all you had to do was ask.”
Wendell nearly chokes and dies at what you’re insinuating. He’s also not sure if this is the tequila talking or if it’s you talking. Composing himself quickly, he lets out a chuckle, saying something along the lines of ‘okay then,’ and closes the door for you. He walks around the front of the car, making his way to the driver’s seat. Hodgins drives by, Angela and Cam in the car with him, and waves as he heads home.
Seeley pulls up beside Wendell, looking at him sternly. Daisy and Brennen are singing in the back seat, and Wendell can see Sweets in the front seat, holding back laughter. It’s a funny sight really, the usually stoic Dr. Brennen and overly excitable Daisy, swaying together in the back seat singing an off-key rendition of piano man. Seeley makes a face at a certain piercing high note that comes from Dr. Brennan, before turning to Wendell.
“Listen man, I appreciate it. If we didn’t live on the opposite side of town, I’d take her home.” Seeley leans out the window slightly, looking at Wendell.
“It’s no problem, really.” Wendell smiles, giving your brother a small wave as he turns to get in his car. “I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”
“Wait! Not that I think you will, but don’t try anything. Alright?”
“Course not, man. Don’t worry, I got this. Head home, I’ll text you when I get Y/n home.” Wendell knows your brother means no harm, obviously, yet can’t help but think about why he’d even think to say that to him.
When he gets back in the car, seeing you sleeping soundly in the passenger seat, curled up and leaning against the window, his worries melt away and he smiles. He turns the car on and lowers the radio volume before driving off.
Tonight summarizes the two of you pretty well, actually. Y/n, the chaotic do-good-er badass, and Wendell, the (sometimes also chaotic) best friend, who always has your back. Sometimes it pains him that you only see him as that, a best friend, but he’s okay with just being that. A friend. Because it means he gets to see you happy. Little does he know, you wouldn’t have gotten so sauced tonight if you weren’t drinking away the thoughts of his lips on yours, his skin pressed against yours as the night turns to morning, the idea of a spark that doesn’t exist. The day of love sucks.
And for some reason, neither of you can see that you’re crazy about each other. Maybe it’s because you’re afraid to ruin what you have, or maybe it’s because you’re both just oblivious, but it doesn’t make a huge difference. Nothing seems to be happening.
Wendell is occupied with a lot of thoughts as he drives to your place. His mind bounces all over the place. He thinks about how you met, when you first walked into the Jeffersonian covered in dirt and sweat (in a cute way... even though he thinks anything is cute on you) after a chase in the desert, just to see your brother and make sure he was okay. He also thinks about the time he literally ran into you and the two of you fell down the platform stairs. The alarms went off, and everyone stared at the pair of you tangled up on the floor. Needless to say it took a while to live that one down. He thinks about every time he’s seen you laugh, and the few that he’s seen you cry. Not that you really even cried, you just couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You don’t exactly do emotions, not out in the open at least.
He thinks about every reason he’s so smitten with you. You’re courageous, selfless, you protect your friends and family, you’re cutthroat and ferocious, yet simultaneously the sweetest person he’s ever met. You care about every detail of his day when you ask how he’s doing, and you can tell when the slightest thing is off with him, or anyone else at the lab, except for noticing his flaming crush on you. And as he thinks about all the little things, he realizes it can’t stay bottled up forever. He has to tell you.
Before long, you’re home. The two and a half hour drive have Wendell a lot of time to think, yet somehow it also feels like he’s had no time at all. The time has also started your trail toward sobriety, and you can at least think coherently. Wendell wakes you, and when you wake up, your hand goes to your head.
“Good god. Did I get hit by a bus?” Your words are still slightly jumbled together, but you’re getting back to business as usual, and that’s good enough.
“There she is,” he singsongs playfully, glad to see your usual demeanour starting to return. You unbuckle your seatbelt, groaning when you go to move. Wendell offers you a hand, and you take it.
Helping you up, he puts an arm around your waist again. You stumble slightly, and when he catches you, you fall against him, leaning against his chest. He ends up just scooping you up off the ground and carrying you inside, placing you on the couch. You’re mostly in good shape, just awful clumsy and distracted due to your headache. Wendell heads into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and some crackers.
“How you doing?” He sits by your thigh, putting an arm on the back of the couch and looking over at you. You cover your face with your hands, laughing gently.
“Ugh, please tell me I didn’t actually make the worst sex implication joke ever.”
“Um...”
“Oh shit. This is embarrassing.” You sit up, still a little tipsy, but not as messed up as you were at the police station. Maybe if things go off you can play it off as Valentine’s tequila. “Fuck it. I’m just gonna go for it. Tonight was fun or whatever, but I really wanted to spend it with you.”
“We could’ve done that. We can hang out this weekend if you want.”
“No, no. You really are a blonde.” You laugh, nudging his shoulder with your fist. Suddenly nervous, you start to ramble. “Not that that’s bad, because you’re definitely pretty. You’re a cute blonde, and you do have really nice arms, they’re really toned, and you know, at the garage you wear these tight shirts and sometimes I just stare and I worry you see, but-“
“Y/n! You’re getting off track here.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, laughing at your rambles. “Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow.”
“I like you a lot.” The words are out of your mouth before he’s even finished his sentence. “Like I have feelings for you?” It comes out like a question, but it’s meant as more of a fearful statement.
“Wait, really?” His eyes widen and his smile falls. At first you think he’s about to run for the hills, but when a small smile appears on his face you’re not so sure.
“Ah, shit, I shouldn’t have said anything,” you curse, rolling your eyes at your own stupidity. That’s fuckin embarrassing.
“No, I like you, too. A lot.” Wendell takes your hand, and you lay against his side as he keeps talking. “We can talk more, when you’re sober. But I do like you. And I think that if we decided that this weekend’s hangout was more ‘ice skating in the park’ instead of ‘trying to kill each other at the rink’, I’d be more than okay with that. I’d like that a lot, actually.” He lets out a small, nervous chuckle, and he glances down at you, fingers grazing your cheek as he contemplates if it would be weird to cup your face with his hand and run his thumb over your cheek.
“Really?” You look up at him with an adorable awestruck expression, and he nearly bursts out laughing.
“Yeah, really.” A smile stays glued to his face, and he shifts slightly, which causes you to sit up. “Now, you should probably go to bed, so that you’re not completely useless tomorrow.”
Wendell plants a small kiss on the top of your head, before standing and scooping you up, bringing you to your room. He drops you gently on your bed, and you let out a small giggle as you bounce slightly with the impact. You banish him from your room so that you can change, and not really paying attention, grab a black hoodie and shorts out of your closet. When you open the door again, he’s just leaning against the wall outside.
“Sorry, I didn’t know where you wanted me to set up- is that my hoodie? I’ve been looking for that!”
“Huh?” You look down at the sweater, seeing the small Jeffersonian logo on the left side of the chest, and the initials on the sleeve. “Oh, I guess it is.” You remember when he gave it to you, he couldn’t stand the idea of you remaining in your blood soaked T-shirt, the grey had become a sticky maroon, too much so to be comfortable. “You can have it back-“
“No, you keep it.” He steps closer, lifting your chin so that you look at him, and brushing a stray hair out of your face. His voice drops, becoming softer and breathy. “It’s much cuter on you anyway,” he murmurs, making you blush profusely, a little laugh escaping your lips.
The two of you fall silent, each staring at the other’s lips. A hum comes from the furnace, causing you both to startle slightly, and it ends the moment. You glance back at Wendell again, before sitting on your bed. He tilts his head at you, mildly confused as to what you’re doing.
“Where did you want me to sleep?”
“Wherever you want. There’s blankets and a few pillows in the closet.”
He thanks you and walks out, and you breathe in deeply, not realizing how shallow your breathing had become. Your mind is racing, and so is your heart. This is simultaneously about the best and worst Valentine’s you’ve ever had. As you mull over the events of tonight, you slide under the blankets, laying back and staring at the ceiling. The shuffling in your living room comes to a stop, and you can hear Wendell coming back to your room. He stops in the doorway.
“Came back to say goodnight,” he says softly, making your heart melt.
“You mind staying for a while?” You sit up, looking at him. He glances over his shoulder at you, a perplexed expression plastered on his face. “What?! I’ve had a rough night,” you say, pretending to be offended. He makes his way over, laying on your bed, on top of the blankets. You roll over and face him, looking up at him lazily. “Goodnight, Wendell.”
You drift off to sleep fairly quickly, but not before you subconsciously lay your head on his chest. He’s terrified at first, frozen in place and afraid to breathe, but after a few minutes he collects himself and calms down. You sleep soundly, curled up beside Wendell. He’s warm and he smells good, and he’s pretty comfortable. By the morning, the two of you are completely intertwined, tangled in blankets and each others’ arms.
The two of you grab a greasy breakfast (and some Advil) and spend the day together, actually talking about what happened the night before. Most of the day is spent at your place, you and Wendell lounging around on your couch as you binge watch your favourite series and try to overcome your hangover.
The next days and weeks fly by, you and Wendell getting closer and closer. The pair of you go on a few dates before things are made official, Wendell going as far as taking you on a walk in the snow and officially asking you out by the outdoor rink. He even reserved ice time so the two of you could skate around like idiots and pass a puck around.
And eventually, when people start to see you’re together, and ask about your story, you have to tell them he bailed you out of jail after Galantine’s gone wrong.
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penwieldingdreamer · 3 years
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First Meetings
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So, now that I have been stuck at home due to my mother's positive Covid test and watching The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings for 6 days straight, inspiration struck again, thank god 🙏😅 The new center of this -maybe- series will be Lee Pace. Of course this is only a fantasy and everything only came from my imagination but with a pinch of real events happening, still it's going to be in an alternative universe.
Thanks for being my beta @fortheloveoffanfic
Hope you guys will like it. Let me know what you thought and if you like to be tagged in upcoming drabbles I have palned and will hopefully be able to continue now again.
Summary: You work as part of the Mae-Up and Hair Crew on set of the Hobbit Trilogy, where you meet many interesting people, but one has gotten more of your attention than you would have thought.
Warnings: none, except for a very long drabble 😅
Words: 1722
You had been part of the crew ever since Peter Jackson had started working on the Hobbit trilogy in 2011 and met everyone that had been essential to the movies on and off screen. Apparently Fran had seen your work first hand when you were at a competition for make - up artists and she was impressed by the end results. You hadn't won any of the prizes but you were only one against one hundred others and yet she wanted you to be part of the second historic movie trilogy PJ did in his life.
The first people you had met were of course the dwarves and Martin who was Bilbo in the movie. They all were fun to be around, especially Dean and Aiden, as well as James Nesbitt who would always greet you with jokes or a song, giving you something to look forward to during those nearly endless days of filming.
And then, at the ending of shooting the first movie of the trilogy Philippa came up to you, a very tall man following behind her. You had just gotten done with James' make-up and wanted some fresh air, with all the fumes inside the trailer you sometimes thought you might get sick, so you sat outside, watching the pair walk over to you.
"Y/N," she said in greeting, a smile breaking out on her face. "May I introduce you to our newest cast members. Lee is going to be Elvenking Thranduil and he's in need of your service." Pippa, as you called her, had always had a way with people and she was next to Fran and Pete the only one of your bosses you could be yourself with and even call family away from your own. In your former jobs you had only been the one for the make-up, the one being ordered around and not even been able to give an opinion to change should something not look right on the person. But here, you were part of the crew and they would listen to you.
"It's nice to meet you." You said, holding out your hand for the actor to shake. With a smile in return he grabbed it and you had to concentrate not to let your reaction show on your face. Holy shit, his hands were huge compared to your smaller ones.
Only your boss's voice pulled you back to the task at hand. "So, Lee needs to get into his wig and ears and we'd like to try the crowns with the wardrobe department. Let's say meeting in an hour and a half over at costumes?"
"Oh, uh, sure." you mumbled, hastily disentangling your hand from his. "I'll send him right over when I'm done."
Pippa grinned at you. "Why don't you come over, too? We wouldn't want there to be a repeat of Elrond's circlet like the last time."
A soft sigh escaped your lips, nodding your head you stepped up onto the small stairs outside the trailer. "I'll bring him over then and make sure the wig will be in one piece once you guys are done."
"Great, I'll see you guys later!" she said, clapping her hands and walking off, leaving you with the giant in human form standing in front of you.
Once he made sure she was out of ear shot, Lee turned back to you, a smile plastered onto his face. "Do I want to know what happened to that wig?"
"I don't think you want to know, it was a mess and the guys making the wigs were so angry because the circlet Hugo was wearing in the fitting got caught on the strands and ripped it in half. They had to do it all over again."
Nodding his head, the actor entered the trailer behind her. You told him to take the empty chair next to Richard, who was getting ready for his scenes and he took the time to watch you flit around in your workplace. Everything was chaotic and still in order all the same. When you had come back to your place, the prosthetic ears and wig in hand, Lee grinned at you, his dark blue eyes shining with mirth. "Well, we wouldn't want another repeat for the King of Woodland Elves."
"At least you're already in character, then." Richard mumbled next to him with a laugh trying not to interrupt the woman doing his make-up for the day, listening to the words leaving his co-stars mouth.
Watching the actor, who was Thorin in the movie series, he laughed. "I just need to get my crown and wardrobe and I'll be good to go, everything else is already perfect."
Ruckus laughter floated through the trailer and you couldn't help but admire the shape of his face. Before you could stop yourself, you had already mumbled a 'yes, perfect' and Lee's eyes turned back to you. You felt the blush creeping over your face, swiftly grabbing a comb and a few clips to prepare his own hair for the wig cap you were going to be putting on under. All had seen the flush spread out on your skin and Martin who was getting up from his chair next to you send you wink. That was a great way to make a first impression on the day of meeting a new part of the movie series. You were scolding yourself inside, making sure to only talk to Lee when he was asking something, otherwise keeping your mouth shut.
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"Okay let's see the green coat again with the silver overcoat. Y/N, be a dear and bring me that one please." Ann Maskrey, one of the costume designers asked you, while Pete and Pippa watched Lee getting dressed in the green coat. You walked over to the wardrobe and took the first silver coat. "No, not that one, the one with the deep orange silk on the inside." So you took the correct one on the second try and held it out for Lee to put on. He grinned down at you, pulling the coat over his shoulders and straightening himself. It would be easier if he wasn't such a giant, but he was a handsome giant.
"Right then, that looks good. Let's try it with the smaller branch crown."
You sighed, hoping there wasn't going to be another wig fiasco when you helped putting the crown on. Weta had done an amazing job designing all the pieces for the movies, for all movies they worked on, but sometimes these things were a bitch to work with. Your comb and pins at the ready, he sat down on the chair, pulling the knee-high boots on over the leggings he wore underneath.
"I'm going to be gentle but if I should hurt you with the pin please let me know." you told him, lightly pinning the crown to the wig so it wouldn't fall off.
Lee had closed his eyes, hiding the bright blue contacts he wore for his role. "I can take my fair bit of pain, but if it's intolerable, I'll let you know. So far I can't complain about these gentle hands."
By the time they had taken pictures and you had finally calmed down again so the flush that had started to spread over your face and neck at the close proximity to Lee was controlled again, Ann had asked you to take off one crown and exchange it for the larger branch crown with red leaves.
"I think this is going to be a lot more striking for King Thranduil then the other one."
So you repeated the process, gently combing the wig while Lee sat on the chair, chewing his gum and closing his eyes. He even held the hairpins in his hand because he saw you struggle to get them out of the confines of your little bag. When he moved it closer to you to work with your finger touched his and if you didn't know better there was a tiny spark from that brush of skin.
Finishing up, you grabbed the unused pins from his hand and told him you were done, giving the tall actor a light tap on his shoulder. Just as he walked over to the small area where they viewed him in his costumes, the door opened and Martin and James walked inside.
"Sorry, you guys but we had a small, unfortunate accident." the Irish actor apologized, showing the burst seams on his pants. "We were doing our stunts and well."
Martin grinned, walking over to you and throwing his arm around your shoulders. "We also wanted to see what all the fuss was about that haughty elf king."
Giggling, you looked over at Lee who grinned at his co-stars and repeated the walk he did before.
"Just so you know, if I were a female dwarf, I'd tap that elf ass." James whispered into your left ear, your once controlled blush intensifying again while the blond actor nodded his head enthusiastically.
"He's a perfect elf, you know. Broad shoulder, tall, elegant, striking eyes. The hair." Martin spoke so only you and the dwarf actor could hear.
"The long legs." James added, nodding his head over to the American actor who strutted along the area, having thrown off the overcoat.
"That smouldering look." the Brit continued before you held up your hands.
"Enough, you." You hissed so no one would know what you had been talking about, but you knew they were only trying to rile you up. Yes, Lee was attractive, hell, he was gorgeous and Pippa and Pete did an amazing job casting him, but you knew him for less than a day. He could be a total asshole when he didn't have people to impress for his first day on set. "You guys should get to Lucy or Sam so they can stitch up those holes."
"Well, I'm going to tell you this, one day you'll end up with a guy like that and you'll remember what I told you. You deserve the best in your life, luv." James told you proudly, pulling you closer into a one armed hug. He was brother and father to you in one person and you knew that his words were going to bite you in your ass.
They always did.
Taglist(I wasn't sure who to tag, also who might want to read it, so please let me know if you don't want to see mor of this in your notifications)
@fortheloveoffanfic @ladyreapermc @toomanystoriessolittletime @meetmeinthematinee @omg-imagine @fanficsrusz @eevee-of-rivia @fics-not-tragedies @omgkatinka @fuck-yeah-hope @wholelottatiffy @axshadows​ @a-really-bi-girl @madbaddic7ed @maggiemoo1892 @pinkzsugar @agniavateira @mary-ann84 and everyone who might want to read this.
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sope-and-shine · 4 years
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Lost and Found
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-> Namjoon x Reader -> Soulmate!AU // Fluff -> 6.2k (This fic was at 6,199 before post, and I couldn’t let that happen) -> Summary: In a world full of soulmates and soul marks, you just had to get stuck with the dynamic duo. -> Warning(s): none // maybe just fluff
A/N: I suggested the name to Belle as I was drafting the post, and she said she’d sue me if I didn’t use it.
ALSO! A BIG BIG BIG THANK YOU TO BOTH @multycoloredtaco​ and @purpletigertaetae​ for reading this and giving me some really good feedback! I love you both SO MUCH!
* * *
Soulmates have always come in several different shapes and sizes. They’ve always appeared to each other in various ways. Your mother and father met by their own personal song that only the two knew of, one that played when they spared a thought to the other. Your aunt had found your uncle with a timer on her wrist, and your grandpa had the unfortunate fate of meeting your grandmother while catcalling her. According to him, it was a very eventful day, but at least her words to him finally made sense. Everyone in your family - besides your great aunt who hasn’t aged since the late 1890s - has had the amazing luck of finding their soulmate. Not everyone gets the luxury of being with their soulmate how they planned to. You’re actually friends with a shop owner who lost his soulmate about a year ago and hasn’t seen any color since. You honestly couldn’t imagine the pain he’s been through. Thankfully, your soulmate mark was not as painful.
It was just extremely annoying.
As a child, you never questioned the items that would appear in your room, thinking of them as odd gifts that your parents or your brother would leave for you. You were no stranger to finding a single sock under your bed, the occasional candy bar tucked away in your backpack, or the odd action figure that you would take to your brother thinking it was his. It wasn’t until the first homework assignment with ‘Kim Namjoon’ scrawled at the top that you began to think something wasn’t right. And that was only the beginning of what was to come. 
As the years went by, more and more random items began appearing in your room at your parents house, your dorm in college, and finally your very own apartment. Each item you placed in boxes under your bed as a way to keep a piece of him with you until you could find him. However, you never imagined how forgetful and chaotic your soulmate could really be. You have everything! Clothing items, more homework assignments, various books, glasses, baby photos, and you even have a random girl’s phone number! You were tempted to call her when you first found it, but you figured that would be too weird. Instead, you continued to organize everything under your bed in hopes of giving it all back to him when you would finally meet.
Of course, you were a victim to your soulmate mark as well. Many jewelry items had disappeared from your room without a trace as a result. Hoodies, stuffed animals, and even a bra that you could’ve sworn you put in your gym bag - part of you hoped he’d hide it away because not only was it a cute bra, it was also expensive. Recently though, you’ve both been a lot more responsible. You haven’t seen any new items appear in your apartment for almost a month, and with your soulmates track record of losing 11 items in one day, a month was a huge record on his part. But you were starting to miss the gifts that would give you clues to him.
After you found out what your soulmate mark really was, you started looking forward to what would be left in your room next. Of course, it wasn’t always a win on your part, and sometimes what he lost was very questionable, but it always made you laugh when another item appeared in your room. At first, it was weird to think about someone else’s stuff appearing in your room with no prior warning, but it made you feel special to know that he was ultimately giving you pieces of himself every time he let something out of his sight. They made your long days more bearable. It makes you wonder if he’s the type of person to shower you with gifts when you feel upset or just to show his affection when he felt it was necessary. Especially on a rough day like today.
There was nothing wrong with your job, you loved everything about it! Life as a lead optician was actually a very rewarding job in the end. Helping others choose the best glasses for their face and individual personalities was one of your favorite parts, you loved watching little old ladies try on vibrant, colorful frames to feel youthful. They’re always very excited to see clearly again. Then there are all the little kids who would sit down with you to get glasses for the first time, and the look on their faces when they finally got to see the world clearly was heartwarming. Their soft smiles and wide eyes filled with amazement always made you feel a little softer inside. However, not everyday was a good day, and today was really not a good day.
Everything was going perfectly fine until the 3:30 appointment showed up at 5:00 after the doctor had already left for the day and demanded to be seen. The doctor’s technician was so scared trying to explain to the patient that they’d have to reschedule their appointment, and the poor thing was just trying not to cry over the one person who couldn’t understand how society works. Obviously, as the lead optician on duty you took over, but this patient was one of the most inconsiderate people you’d ever had to deal with. Demanding to be seen, demanding to buy glasses with an old prescription, demanding to speak to a manager - which at this point was actually you, so done and done - and just cursing up a storm at you and your fellow coworkers who all tried to help explain. The whole ordeal just took way longer than it ever should have to deal with, and it probably took at least 25 years off of your life. 
“Why do people feel that they need to be rude to get what they want?” Soohyun had asked you, “Do they think it’ll just magically fix everything?” 
You had agreed, “It’s like they think you’re really just messing with them. Like, “Oh no, sir! You’re correct! I apologize for the inconvenience, let me pull that out of my ass for you!” Though maybe not appropriate for the work environment, you’d at least made her day just a little better with your humor. 
On days like today, a nice warm shower and a cuddle pile with all of the pillows and plushies that cover your bed made everything much better when nothing new appeared in your room. If the odd gifts the universe left from your soulmate couldn’t cheer you up, then you’d do it yourself. And that you did. Nothing felt better than the warm water washing away the day’s pain and suffering, the delicate fragrance of the coconut shampoo you splurged on easing your worries down the drain. The floral body lotion and leave-in-conditioner you’d bought on the same shopping excursion also help your body relax, their scents so intoxicating to you, that you almost topple over onto the tiled floor of your bathroom from the instant pleasure they pull from you. Instead, you make your way to your bed, adorned in your comfiest PJs and fluffiest socks.
However, you weren’t expecting to land on something so hard and uncomfortable when you plopped face first onto your sheets.
“What the heck?” Pushing yourself onto your knees and pulling back the covers, you find a small, golden trophy resting comfortably in the warmth of your sheets. On all sides it reads, ‘MNET Asian Music Awards’ with a small plaque reading, ‘2017 MNET Asian Music Awards: Artist of the Year’ at the bottom of one side. It takes you a moment to understand fully what you hold in your hands before it actually hits you.
Your soulmate is an idol.
A forgetful idol if he lost such an important award, but at least this gave you a lead as to who your soulmate is besides one of the most common surnames and a few measly pairs of mismatched socks.  
Setting the award to the side, you grab your phone from your nightstand and unlock it, clicking on your browser and typing away. You look up the artist of the year from 2017 and find the top result to be a boy band called BTS. According to Google’s nice little summary and AllKPOP’s top article, they seemed to be pretty famous. Of course, you’ve heard of them before, and if you heard one of their songs then there was a good chance you’d probably recognize it! But you’ve never really been one for boy bands. You were more into kdramas if you were to be completely honest, they’re definitely your guilty pleasure and way more your speed than handsome young men dancing on stage in front of screaming girls trying to get in their pants. Could you really blame them? No. Not at all. Given the chance, you’d take it, but it wouldn’t be anything special if it wasn’t your soulmate.
Your soulmate.
Namjoon.
Changing your question, you search for ‘Kim Namjoon BTS’. If he actually pops up, then that would mean you actually know who he is. 
Finding the nerve to press search, you are bombarded with three pictures above a description of him right off the bat - You hate to admit it, but soulmate or not, he’s definitely handsome. You click on a random site you hope will give you some useful information about the man who’s most likely your soulmate and are immediately redirected to something called K-Profiles. The site itself starts off with a group picture of all the members, followed by their names below it, and their social media handles under that. You’d have to look them up later.
The first member you come across is your soulmate himself. He has his blonde head resting on top of his arms with a soft, dimpled smile as he stares right back at the camera. Eyes locked onto his through the screen, you can feel your heart speeding up just from looking at him. You can’t help but smile back at him as if he can actually see you. As if he were right there ready to come out and say ‘hi’. 
He’s absolutely breathtaking, and it isn’t even him.
You continue your hunting, scrolling further down to learn as much as you can about him. How old he is, when he was born, where he was born, what his favorite color is, you want to know it all! You learn that he’s the leader of the group, that he used to be known as Rap Monster before he changed it - that USB in the box under your bed made a lot more sense now. You learn that he has a sister, and that he and his band members are advocates for UNICEF, and that this man was so incredibly intelligent yet also known as the ‘god of destruction’ to those around him. But also listed on his profile is his soulmate mark. 
“As said in a V-Live where RM explained a stuffed animal he kept on his desk, anything RM loses will appear with his soulmate and vice-versa. He has yet to meet his soulmate.” You read. You’ve lost quite a few stuffed animals to Namjoon, hopefully, it wasn’t an embarrassing one that would haunt you later.
You come to the end of his profile and to the top of another handsome man, yet you don’t scroll down. You haven’t learned enough. You need to know more about him, about how you can meet him. You have to know more! And that’s how you find yourself still up at 5am the next morning still wide awake watching yet another video interview of your soulmate just to hear his voice. A part of you is embarrassed for staying awake all night for some guy, but another part of you can’t let it go when you’re so deep already. 
* * *
You called into work after your late night-early morning escapade, telling them you caught something from one of your friends and wouldn’t be in for the next few days. There was no way you were going anywhere with the sleep you just got, and it wouldn’t be fixed in one day either. Even after sleeping the morning away you were still tired from your late night-early morning endeavor. It’s not like you really cared though, you had just found out who your soulmate was. And unlike a lot of other people in the world, you had an entire collection of videos dedicated to just your soulmate and his passion.
It didn’t take long for you to dig your nose back into the screen of your phone just to watch him make that gorgeous, dimpled smile. There were so many videos where he talked about you, sharing some of the items you had lost with his fans like they were his best friends. He looked so proud to be showing off your things, and the look in his eyes when he’d get lost in his own thoughts just looking at them made your heart melt.
You’d heard your mom and dad talk about how happy they were to have a special song just for the two of them. Your mom used to tell you all about the day your father tracked her all the way from the grocery store, pushing through the crowd like a love interest in a kdrama because he heard her humming their song to herself. At a young age you always thought it was sweet and wanted to meet your soulmate just like your mom had, but you eventually realized as you got older that a strange person following you home is not something you want. However, now you kinda wished it could work like that, seeing that your soulmate was practically untouchable. 
Of all the people in the world, you just had to get stuck with a celebrity with millions of girls from all over the world fawning over him. Getting chased in the streets must be on this guy’s workout regimen by now! How were you supposed to get anywhere near him without spending over $1,000 just to look at his face?
“How much are those fan-meet things?” You ask yourself aloud. Innocent enough, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the entire process that came with going to just one fansign. This wasn’t something you could just buy a ticket for. No. You had specific steps that you had to follow or you wouldn’t even stand a chance. There were so many steps that you were tempted to just find his company and blast music until security came to take you away. Maybe you’d at least get to meet him when they filed a restraining order.
No. You HAD to meet him. You haven’t saved all of his lost things just for you to chicken out now.
So, you made a fancafe account and waited for their next promotion to purchase an album, you waited for the lottery winners to be announced, and you almost doubled over when you saw your name on the list from the store. You thought 3 months was long enough, but the 24 hours before the event were the longest hours of your life. So long that you couldn’t even sleep!
That’s where the wrench comes in.
You hadn’t meant to stay up so late at all, but you were really excited to finally meet the man that’s been losing everything he touches - especially now that he’s started losing air pods under your bed. So, when you woke up at 10:30am for the fansign that started at 11, you knew you’d messed up. 
You messed up bad. 
Of all the irresponsible things you could’ve done, staying up late was not the one you should’ve chosen to do. Now, you’d have to wait even longer to see him. Maybe the universe was right to give you both the worst soulmate mark known to man.
It wasn’t like waiting for the next fansign was bad, but it wasn’t the best either. Everyday that passed was another day that you had to watch him through a screen. Seeing his dimpled cheeks smile at the camera - at you - making your heart race. He was so close to you, but he was so out of reach. When the next fansign did come around, you had to make sure you made it on time so you could see it in person for yourself.
That’s what you told yourself.
To your credit, you almost did do that! But you had no idea there would be so much traffic. Not only that, but you’d tripped and dropped the box of things to return to him on the street and had to pick it up before anyone saw what it was you were holding. Because of those small issues, you made it to the venue five minutes after they had closed the doors. 
“Please, I’m only five minutes late!” You beg, breathing heavy and labored. You stare at the worker just doing her job with high hopes that she would have some sort of empathy for you, but her face showed no remorse.
“If you wanted to be let in, then you should have been on time.” She scolds, closing the doors on you and leaving you outside to wallow in self pity once more. 
At least the first time you’d messed up you were in the comfort of your own home where you could cry over your failure. Now, you were left in the open for everyone to see your mistake. You were so close too. He was just behind the doors. Waiting to see the adoring faces of his fans that you should be a part of. 
Yet you’re on the streets.
* * *
“Don’t you think you’re going a little overboard?” 
“What makes you say that?” You turn to your friend from your seat on the ground outside of the shop you’d purchased your album from, dressed in a light hoodie with a coffee in your hand. The light of day just peaking through the cracks between the buildings as the street lamps turn off for a new day. 
At this point in your journey to meet your soulmate, you weren’t going to take any more chances. The store didn’t open for another 3 hours, and the event started an hour and a half after that, but you were going to be sure you had your ticket and made it to the venue on time. You didn’t care how early you were, you were going to see Namjoon if it was the last thing you did.
The poor, tired woman seemed to pick up on your indifference to your change in behavior and sighs, “Nothing in particular. I’m just concerned that maybe you’re taking this to the extreme now.”
“I’ve tried and failed three times already, Bomi. I cannot miss another chance to meet them!” You explain, taking a sip from your warm cup.
“Maybe the universe is trying to tell you that they’re just a boy band and you shouldn’t get so excited over them. They all have soulmates anyways.” Of course she didn’t know that you were going because one of them was your soulmate, but you couldn’t risk anyone finding out and telling your soulmate before you could tell him. 
“I know that, but it’s worth it!” All the hours you’d spent waiting, watching their new content, reading their tweets and various posts from other social media wishing you could see him in person for just a moment. This was the fourth attempt, and you didn’t want to continue this cycle of hit and miss. “I’m not missing it this time.”
“Well, waiting outside of this shop so early just to get a ticket that’s already yours is absurd!” 
“You didn’t have to come with me.” You grumble. It wasn’t like you didn’t know that. You were very much aware of the fact that it was insane. It was something you thought about every time you failed to make it into the venue! Having her reiterate what you already knew did not make it any easier.
However, your acquaintance wasn’t having your response, “I did. You blackmailed me into coming with you so you’d actually do it right, remember?”
The vague memory of sending her an embarrassing picture you had as a way to convince her to come flashes through your mind. So maybe your methods were unconventional, but they worked. “That’s not important!” 
You both continue to wait by the store’s entrance, making light conversation as more people begin to show up for their own tickets. Of course, you knew they’d be here, that’s why you left extra early to be there first. It was a good thing you did too, because as the time ticked on and the line grew longer, it became obvious a lot of fans had purchased their albums from the same store you had. Even as the store owner arrived to start their day, not at all surprised by the line that had formed for them, there were still fans lining up for their tickets.
But in the end, you were first to arrive and receive your ticket, and that made you one of the first to the venue.
“Alright, we made it. This is where I leave you.” Bomi hikes her bag further onto her shoulder and turns to face you one last time before she leaves, “Don’t make a fool of yourself in there. And do not show them your airpod collection!”
‘Oh, I’m returning the airpod collection…’ You think to yourself, sending a quick wave goodbye to her.
Waiting for the doors to the venue to open didn’t take as long as you’d thought it would - security check taking even less time. You found your seat pretty easily as well, being placed on the left side of the empty table in the middle of the sea of chairs. Taking the time you have while everyone finds their seats, you take a peek inside of the box you’d brought to grab your album and just look at everything you’d brought to begin their return to Namjoon. You made sure to bring every pair of air pods you had found - and hadn’t sold on eBbay - a few old homework assignments, USB’s, pictures he’d taken through his pre-debut, and the trophy he’d misplaced that lead to your discovery.
Hopefully his band members wouldn’t be too upset with him.
You’d learned a lot about each of them over the two years you’ve spent trying to meet with Namjoon. So many times you’d been tempted to put yourself on the fan page or DM them on Twitter, but you were too afraid of being drowned out by other ARMYs or one of the other boys blocking you before Namjoon could see. No doubt they each probably had hardships of their own trying dodge fans claiming to be their soulmate. Watching as they each come to the stage individually, you could see why anyone would lie to call them theirs. You couldn’t deny how handsome they all were - you’d be lying to yourself if you said you thought they weren’t handsome - but no one could compare to your Namjoon.
If you get the opportunity to meet his stylist, then you’re going to give her the biggest hug for making him look this amazing! It was just a plain white, button down shirt tucked into a black pair of dress pants, but the top two buttons of his shirt undone and the grey, satin suit jacket with the addition of black, square glasses and his brown hair neatly parted to the left make him look like a god - should they exist. He takes your breath away, even if you’ve seen every picture and fancam you were able to find. The universe really said, “this one deserves the best” and threw you the biggest catch out there. You could only hope he enjoyed the simple pair of jeans and pastel yellow sweater you’d thrown on for the occasion.
It takes a while before they begin the meet and greet part, the boys introducing themselves and asking questions, letting their fan sites take pictures before they turn their attention to the individual fans as they pass them. With every moment that passes by, every row you watch stand and enter the line to the stage, you become more and more nervous. Of course, you knew your soulmate was truly Namjoon, but you were still terrified to reveal that truth in front of everyone. You’d seen a few announcements regarding the boys and their soulmates, talking about how their respective soulmate would be treated like another one of the boys and would be protected by BigHit as soon as they were found. You knew you’d at least have his company behind you, but…
What about his fans?
You can’t help but fester in your own thoughts, letting them consume you even as you make your way into the line with your box. You try your best to muster up the courage you need, but the looming presence of the table getting closer and closer makes your breathing harder. All you need to do is remain calm. They were just people.
The people who’ve spent almost 7 years with your soulmate.
And your soulmate himself.
No biggie.
“Ma’am.” The voice of the staff keeping the line interrupts your internal panic, pulling you back to reality. He points to the table where an excited Taehyung smiles eagerly at you with an empty space in front of him. “You’re next.”
“Yes! Thank you.” Reeling from embarrassment, you quickly kneel down to the space in front of the table. You give a small bow and hand over your album to the boxy-smiled boy in front of you, your hands shaking from how nervous you are. All you had to do was make it through 5 more boys and you’d meet your soulmate. 
5 more people....
...and you’d meet your soulmate.
A hand lands on top of your own, “There’s no need to be nervous!” Taehyung is bright and happy, calmly running a thumb over the back of your hand as he uses the other to sign your album. His eyes shift from you to the paper and back to you, “You’re doing great~”
You felt a little bad for probably ignoring him. He must’ve been trying to introduce himself when he’d noticed you’d spaced out yet again. Yet here he was, acting as though it wasn’t even that big of a deal. Of course, he still had about 50 more people or so to have a minute conversation with, but he genuinely seemed to care. It made you feel more confident.
“Thank you.” You say, a smile gracing your lips. You were still nervous, but at least now you felt calm and somewhat collected to at least make it through the other members. You move onto Yoongi, then to Jeongguk, to Jin, to Jimin, and then to Hoseok. Once again, you’re feeling a little guilty about the time you spend with him. It wasn’t like you weren’t excited to be in front of him, but your soulmate was less than 2 feet away from you looking like he walked out of a Vogue photo shoot with a happy little smile on his face. Hopefully, if all goes well you can apologize to him for being distracted.
The staff moves everyone along and your time finally comes. You bid Hoseok a quick thank you and goodbye and move yourself in front of Namjoon, his box tucked close to your body as a way to keep you grounded. 
Namjoon takes your album from Hoseok before he turns his full attention to you, his dimples that you’d been obsessed with since you’d first seen them making an appearance. His dark brown eyes stare into your own, “Hi, what’s your name?”
You’re so entranced by the man in front of you that you almost don’t respond. You manage a quiet, “(Y/n)...” But you’re so stunned and breathless that you think about repeating it just to make sure he hears it.
“Really?” He asks. His eyes widen for just a moment, and you know he recognizes it from a homework assignment or a book you’d probably lost with your name in it. You watch his shoulders as they tense and then relax as if they’d never lifted in the first place. “I really like that name. It’s one of my favorites.”
You watch him turn to the album in front of him, looking for the page you’d like him to sign. Being in front of him now, you feel your confidence grow. You can’t help yourself, “Really? Is there a reason?”
“I’ve just always liked the name.” He says, looking up momentarily with a tight smile. He probably didn’t want to be too obvious about his soulmate - well, you - so fans wouldn’t go looking for you. That must be the one downside to the life of an idol. You watch him carefully, taking in the way he handles your album with care. You watch him flip through pages, his smile slipping for a confused frown. He looks at you, “You don’t have a question for me?”
You jump at the sudden realization that you hadn’t given him the box yet, “No! I do…” This was it. You look from him to the box you’ve clung onto for two years, “It’s inside the box.”
Carefully, you slide the box forward, feeling the nerves you’ve been feeling all day spring to life. He takes it from you with a grateful smile, probably expecting a bear or something you’d made yourself just for him. But judging by the look on his face, you can tell he wasn’t expecting to find the objects in front of him. His shocked face makes you chuckle.
“I’ve always wondered how one person can lose so many things. I understand homework and socks, the airpods, but an entire trophy, Namjoon? How do you lose a trophy?” You ask. You wait for an answer, but he looks as if he’s completely shut down. His jaw hangs open ever so slightly, and his eyes are wide in disbelief. You see a glisten in his eyes and your amusement turns to worry, “Are you okay?”
The leader turns to you, glistening eyes staring into your own. His mouth opens and closes and it looks like he’s trying to find the right words to say, “I-...I don-...oh my god, you’re actually here.”
You watch as the shine in his eyes turn to tears that slowly roll down his cheeks, his mouth struggling to decide if he wants to frown or smile. You’re more worried than anything, “Wah-! Don’t cry! Why are you crying?!” You reach for his hands that still rest on the sides of the box, mimicking what Taehyung had done for you when you first stepped up to the table. “Please don’t cry.”
“I can’t believe you’re here.” He says softly, his voice cracking ever so slightly. You’re still confused if he himself is happy or not, trying to make sense of why he’s crying when he just met you. You watch his eyes drift over you with an unclear expression. Was he happy? Was he sad? Were you supposed to be reacting the same way?
“You’re beautiful…” He says, teary eyes meeting your own.
“So are you.” You respond. It’s only after the words fall from your mouth that you realize what you said and you try to correct yourself, “Handsome! I meant to say you’re handsome! You’re very attractive in a very masculine way, but that’s not to say you don’t express femininity well when you choose to and you look good all the time and-” Amidst your struggle for the correct words, he’d begun to laugh at your own expense. Not how you imagined this meeting to go, you shrink back to your side of the table, “I’ll just stop talking.”
“No! Please, keep talking.” He begs, moving forward to come closer to you. He pulls on your hands that still connect across the table, squeezing to reassure you that he still wanted you to be near him. It felt so nice to have him hold your hands, so nice and comforting, that you must’ve missed the glistening in your own eyes, “Now you’re crying!”
Your hands pull from his to hide your face, “No I’m not, it’s just raining inside!” 
As you try to wipe away your tears, you hear the voice of Jimin call over the speakers just off to the side of the table, “You’re not supposed to make the fans cry!”
“I didn’t mean to!” Namjoon defends. In all fairness, you did make him cry first, so this was probably fair.
Hoseok claps his hands together, his voice just subtly coming through the speakers as well, “This is so sweet! We’re all witnessing two soulmates meet for the first time!” 
“It’s like a movie, but without the flower petals.” Taehyung adds, having a mic of his own on his side as well.
“Miss.” Another staff member appears next to you, only this time they’re offering a hand and a smile, “Could I have you come with me?”
You’re nervous at first, not sure if going with this staff member would be the best idea. However, the presence of Namjoon’s hand on your own once more draws your attention to his heartwarming smile, “It’s okay.”
You nod and stand, allowing the staff to lead you behind the table and into the hallway to a waiting area. They have you sit on the couch, assuring you that Namjoon and the others would be there to see you soon. This at least gave you a moment to collect your thoughts and come to the realization that you really just met your soulmate after so much hard work to get there. You’d thought plenty of times that you’d regret trying to meet him this way, but now you couldn’t be more elated that you actually got to speak to him and hold his hands. You made him cry - what were hopefully - tears of joy! Even as their manager sits down to make small talk with you while you wait for the end of the fanmeet, you can’t help but to feel as if you’re on cloud 9. 
It’s not too long until you hear that the meeting has come to an end, making your heart rate speed up. Once again, you take a deep breath in and let it out, preparing yourself to face Namjoon again. Only when he does come in, you both just stare at one another. Him from the doorway with his members waiting behind him and you from your spot on the couch. You’d already met, you’d already held hands, but this...he was right there.
“Well, are you going to talk to her or just look at her?” Jin asks, a mischievous smirk gracing his features as he stares at the younger.
It would seem that the small jab at the leader was all he needed to push himself forward, legs moving swiftly across the room in long strides just so he can reach you. You stand, intending to meet him halfway, but he’s already pulling you into a much needed embrace before you even get the chance. His arms wrap over your shoulders, caging you close to his chest as he leans down to rest his head on your own. He smells so nice, and his embrace is so warm, they almost distract you from the wetness you feel on top of your head.
“Namjoon…?” You ask, worried you might make him cry more by asking.
The man himself pulls back, quickly moving to wipe his tears as if he hadn’t already cried in front of you already, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so emotional right now.”
“Don’t apologize. I think it’s cute.” You assure him. You look down, feeling a bit embarrassed yourself, “Much cuter than showing up to your fansign with a bunch of your things.”
“How long have you known?” He asks.
“2 long and painful years.” You sigh. Thinking back on everything you’ve done since discovering who and where he was, you can’t help but be thankful it worked out this time around, “I’ve tried coming to a fan sign 3 times before this.”
“Couldn’t win a ticket?” Jeongguk asks from the side, a bottle of water in his hands.
Your sheepish smile turns into a strained one, “Yeah...we’ll go with that.”
Yoongi seems to pick up on your change in attitude, “Don’t tell me…” 
“No wonder the universe put them together, they’re a match made in heaven!” Jin laughs, the sound being much more entertaining in person. The other members of BTS continue to talk amongst themselves, discussing the scene before them as well as how exciting the day had been. But Namjoon, instead, focuses all of his attention on you.
“Please tell me you’re free for the rest of the day.” 
For once, you were more than happy to use your holiday time, “I’m free for the rest of the weekend.”
“Good.” He says, giving you another look at his beautiful, dimpled smile.
“Good...”
* * *
“So, what’s in the box?” 
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Text
Meeting and dating Dean Portman
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(Not my gif)(requested by @rschelberry )
- You saw Dean before you met him. You were stood off to the side watching the new recruits when he first came out onto the ice. You watched apprehensively as he threw people down and made an interesting first impression. He was entertaining that’s for sure.
- You; just like the other ducks, were unsure of the newcomers and not so keen on sharing the ice with a bunch of strangers. But you stayed back when they went to argue with each other knowing that nothing you said or did would change the predicament you were in.
- Dean “first saw you” or rather first paid attention to you when you smoothly skated over as Bombay and Tibbles spoke. You shared looks with your fellow teammates while he caught his first glimpse of your face and what a face it was.
- It wasn’t until later that you spoke to him for the first time. It was right after Les tried to ask about his tattoo that you stepped in, stretching out a hand and introducing yourself. He put on his best tough guy face and gave your hand a firm shake.
“Enforcer huh?”
“Mhm.”
“Well I’m a left wing so we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. Welcome to the team Portman.” You said as nonchalantly as you could while you walked away. Oh he liked you.
- Like Fulton said: “Deans not scared of anything” and once he’s set his eyes on something he’s going to find a way to get it. You just happen to be that something.
- At first he just watches you a lot especially when the team isn’t exactly a “team”. Your fellow Ducks don’t take too kindly to the brutes infatuation. They glare at him and warn you to stay away from him, often purposefully trying to block you from view.
- When (and before) the team starts to bond you notice that Dean acts differently around you or at least to you. He’s nicer, slightly quieter, and more helpful. There’s definitely a visible difference between how he treats you and everyone else.
- You two are on friendly terms before anyone else which slightly irritates the Ducks. They don’t want you around him, much like an older sibling/parent doesnt want you around a “bad influence”. They don’t trust him.
- But, it’s only when everyone’s on good terms that he actively starts to pursue you. One day things just sort of … change? He starts flirting with you which throws you for a loop; you think he’s just kidding at first but then you realize he’s being serious. You’re confused but at the same time you…sorta like it?
- His flirting consists of teasing you, twirling your hair, complimenting you, flexing and winking when he catches you looking at him. And you let it go on for a while because it makes you feel good and you kinda like him back until one day he decides it’s time to confess.
- You’re hanging out with him in your room and he’s messing around with your stuff while you do your homework. You’re both just in a comfortable silence until he speaks.
“Hey y/n/n?”
“Mhm.”
“What would you say if I told you I loved you?” You sort of freeze as you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.
“Well I don’t know,” you smile. “Why? Is there something you want to tell me?”
- He looks at you and shakes his head with a smile. “Y/n y/l/n I am completely, madly in love with you.”
“Well Dean Portman, it’s a good thing I’m in love with you as well.”
- He nearly tackles you onto your bed before the two of you share your first kiss. The whole time you’re thinking that any minute now you’ll wake up but you don’t and you open your eyes again to find him staring back at you with a smile.
- Technically that was your first date but you don’t really count it as such. No, your first date was at a theme park. He bought both of you tickets and the two of you had a blast screaming your lungs out on roller coasters. He even won you a prize on one of the games they had which you still have sitting on your bed to this day.
- After he won you the prize he asks if he’s “won your heart too” and you guess he really has because the two of you have been together ever since.
- He’s honestly the sweetest guy you’ve ever met. Behind his tough exterior he has a heart of gold.
- Soo many pet names. Babe, baby, honey, sweetie, angel; he rarely ever says your name.
- You call him your/a big teddy bear and he never outright denies it even though he has his bad boy reputation to keep up.
- The instant you seem even the slightest bit sad he’s trying to figure out what’s wrong and getting all soft on you. This boy turns into the human embodiment of comfort. His voice softens, he hugs you, kisses your forehead, listens intently, just everything and anything you could ever want when you’re upset.
- He scares off anyone that annoys you. You don’t even have to say anything, he just senses your impatience/discomfort and acts.
- You think you’ve seen protective, you’ve seen nothing yet. If he even hears about someone bothering you he’s immediately ready to kick ass. He offers to fight them which you laugh at but he’s only slightly kidding.
- It’s a good thing it’s sort of his job to take care of you on the ice because he’s constantly making sure no one gets to you and putting people who knock you down in their place.
- He’s like a moderate to severe on the jealous scale. If there’s a real reason to be jealous then he’ll get jealous (and will probably take it up with the guy). But if there’s really no reason to be he won’t be, like when you’re being platonic with a guy friend or just talking to a guy at lunch.
- He’s well aware that he’s good looking and…athletic; especially for his age, so he isn’t really all that worried about you running off with someone else. Just his appearance alone keeps people away from you, let alone his reputation. It’s rare that a guy is genuinely flirting with you.
- And regardless the both of you make it obvious that you’re only interested in each other which means you don’t have to worry about any girls getting to him either.
- He’s a cuddle bug; he can’t last a day without cuddling. He’ll always deny it but time and time again he’s the one pulling you onto the bed. Doesn’t matter where, doesn’t matter when; he’ll find a way to cuddle you.
- Tracing his tattoo.
- Sitting on his lap.
- Straddling his stomach while he runs his hands up and down your thighs.
- Makeout sessions while listening to rock music. He’s probably made a makeout mixtape for the two of you.
- He just loves making you mixtapes. He’s genuinely spent hours making you; what he thinks is, the perfect mixtape.
- Dancing and yelling out the lyrics to your favorite songs together.
- Doing stupid reckless shit together.
- I’m convinced that he’s the type of guy who buys cheap glass/porcelain and invites you over to smash it with him.
- He always makes sure he’s next to you when you’re sitting with the team on the benches or hanging out with friends.
- Obviously being really close to Fulton. He never minds being a third wheel or having you tag along on “bro nights”.
- The two of you share looks at each other constantly. Someone does something stupid or weird you’re immediately giving each other side eyes and looking to see if the other person saw.
- Bear hugs.
- He’s always touching you in someway. Arm over your shoulders, hand on your waist, hugging you from behind, etc, etc.
- Swatting his hands away when he tries to touch your butt.
- Ice cream and fast food dates.
- Taking long walks together. Sometimes you find something to do along the way, other times you just enjoy each other’s company.
- Having your own handshake.
- Matching bandannas? Matching bandannas.
- Wearing his clothes even though they’re huge on you.
- He always loves when you wear his old jersey. He just can’t stop staring at you and smiling whenever you have it on.
- Giving each other pep talks and having little pre game rituals.
- Calming him down when refs make a harsh or ridiculous call. It’s honestly pretty easy since the moment he sees you he just naturally calms. He’s a big tough guy but he was raised right and that means no taking your anger out on others and not taking things too seriously.
- Even though he’s a total macho man he loves when you take care of/baby him. Want to bandage the tiny cut he got on his hand? Be his guest; he’ll subtly play up the pain just to get an extra “Aw” and a kiss.
- Beach dates.
- Theme park, carnival and amusement park dates; just places with that general chaotic aura.
- Bowling dates.
- He always carries your things for you. Doesn’t matter how light, doesn’t matter how heavy, he’s taking it.
- He likes to pick you up at random. Just throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes or lifts you off the ground and places you a foot or so away from where you were previously standing. He feels very satisfied when you shriek in surprise, lightly smack him on the arm or break out laughing.
- He constantly tries to flex and show off in front of you. …yummy….
- He takes great pride in making you flustered.
- He likes teasing you in any way he can. Holding something over his head, tickling you, straight up (playfully) making fun of you, all that good shit.
- Soo many compliments and ‘I love yous’. He wants you to know that you’re his world goddamnit!
- He genuinely cannot wait you make you Mrs. Portman and will tell it to your face.
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xsarcasticwriterx · 3 years
Text
Childhood friends-part 2
 Summary: Negan and y/n spend the day together talking of their history which makes things become complicated for y/n along with the toll of her friends demise.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of verbal and physical abuse, signs of depression
Notes: jesus sorry this is kinda meh and sorry it took so long to get out I procrastinate a lot and life's been chaotic anyways I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
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Waking up in negans arms felt strange for y/n. She was laying curled up next to him their legs tangled together and y/n head on negans chest. She didn't want to move but at the same time she felt wrong not doing so.
After a few minutes of this internal battle going on in her head she eventually decided to move. Slowly moving away she slid off the bed and into the guest bathroom. throwing water on her face she recapped the events of the day before. Negan had broken her promise and made her feel a sense of fear she had pushed away for so long. She more so didn't understand how negan was so casual with arguments with the history they both had memories of.
Pulling herself out of the bathroom y/n was greeted with negan sitting up in the bed on his phone. “wont Lucille wonder why your in here?” y/n asked confused why he was so casual and calm. “You mean the same fucking Lucille who practically pushed you onto me? She stayed at her moms house last night after the fucking fight anyways.” negan replied with a semi annoyed tone. sighing, y/n walked over and sat next to negan on the bed. 
“negan.....we both know why i hate yelling.....how are you so calm around it.” y/n had to know. if someone even raised their voice at her shed feel her heart drop. “I know what he fucking did to me....to us and it took me a while but i eventually fucking realized if someone's yelling at me it's not the same way he did it. It's not to fucking make me feel like some small ass child but as a way of showing their upset.” negan said gulping. He never liked talking of his father. neither did y/n her memories with him made her feel like a piece of shit. she nodded slightly. “Hey wanna go get some breakfast?” negan asked her. “yea of course” y/n replied. 
Negan left to get changed leaving y/n alone. she changed into a simple tshirt and jeans. Putting on her tennis shoes. she fixed her hair and walked downstairs. she sat on the couch and waited for negan. The house was so silent. she hated when Lucille and negan fought it always felt so tense and awkward.
a few minuets later negan came down stairs. He smiled at y/n and grabbed his leather jacket. y/n followed after as they walked outside. Negan got into his car y/n following after. Negan put on Led zeppelin as they headed to the diner they usually ate at. So often in fact that the owners and them were on a first name basis. They had spent practically their whole life there. pulling up to the small place with big red glowing lights they got out the car.
y/n wasn't sure if it was the events of last night or the new of Lucille or a mix of both but something about being at the diner just made everything feel so surreal like reality wasn't actually real. they walking into the diner and suddenly y/n felt like she was 15 again. walking to their usual table the chefs immediately got to work. “shit feels weird as hell being here” negan said. “Very. i don’t get why not like we weren't here only last week.” y/n replied. “Things have all changed in a week made us feel....” negan drifted off. Something y/n had only seen happen at most 10 times. negan was never one to not have the words for something. Though she knew he had the words he just didn't want to say them. “Small” y/n finished for negan. He nodded. 
Negan wasn't one for being silent. Hell all through school teachers constantly harped on him for his obnoxiously loud and social behavior. When negan was silent y/n knew it was serious. Between the fight and Lucille's diagnosis everything has felt like a huge 180. Like the world would never be the same again. They had both known Lucille they're entire high school and adult lives they went through life together. They grew up together and now shed be gone. They wanted to hope of course everyone wants to hope that someone they love and care for won't pass but they knew the inevitable. Lucille's resulted weren't looking up and in the end they all knew what's going to happen. They sat in silence which was unusual to say the least.
“here you two. seem like you could use something a little more than your usual.” mark, their usual waiter,said. “Thanks” negan said. Mark nodded and walked off. Negan and y/n looked to see what he brought. seemed like their usual shakes. negan took a sip and his eyes widened. confused, y/n took a sip too. Feeling the taste of not only the strawberry shake but the taste of liquor filling her mouth she pulled away. “ah...you know Jim is going to ask what's up if its this bad” y/n said. negan sighed “i know....only other time they gave us this was the first time we came here after our fucking major fight” negan said.
That was probably the worst day of y/n’s life. Negans dad had banned him from seeing her but she didn't know that. they ended up having a huge fight when she got tired of being ignored. When negan yelled back about his father y/n felt her heart shatter. That same night they ended up here but didn't speak. Jim knew and told mark to give us something extra. Mark was their age and he didn't know that meant an extra desert or something so instead he added some liquor that was stored there. Jim came and placed two burgers and fries on the table and then pulled a chair to the edge of the table and sat down. “alright what is it. Yall fighting again?” he asked. “no it's not that” y/n said. “Lucille fucking has cancer” negan said and immediately sighed and placed his head into his hands. “shit...” Jim said. “i'm so sorry you two....” jim said. He poured more of the alcohol into their drinks. “think you need that.” jim said. “look I can't begin to imagine the pain you two are going through but i can say i have never met two people who care for someone so much and she cares for you two a lot too. She's lived a great life and now you two just need to spend as much time as you can with her”
They knew jim was right but there was a pain in seeing lucille. So many memories which only lead to pain because they could no longer create anymore memories. It felt like the end of a book. Jim stood up and walked off. they ate in silence only a few words spoken of small talk. once they were done negan started to place down a bill. “on the house” Jim said through the serving hatch. negan put the money back into his pocket. once back in the car negan placed his head on the steering wheel. “What the fuck do I do?” he asked mostly to the world. “Honestly....I have no clue....Think just do what jim said  y'know. take what time we have and use it as much as we can.” she replied. negan nodded. “I’m glad your here. I’ll never fucking know why you stayed after all the shit.” negan sighed. y/n reached for his hand” “because its shit we went through together. Just as we will deal with this together” she replied. she knew he didnt mean in general. He was speaking of the night that changed their relationship forever. The night she and him lost their virginity to each other. That wasn't something that needed to be talked about though not then.
Negan started up the car and drove to a secluded forest the place they went after negan had explained his situation at home getting worse. parking on the hill they got out. Sitting on the edge of the cliff looking down at the water. “I really am sorry. For everything. All the times I snapped at you, for bringing you to my house even after my dad was getting worse, for ignoring you and being too much of a fucking pussy to stand up to that asshole, and for messing with your feelings....for sleeping with you and then just leaving...” negan said. He was clearly drunk he never was sentimental and the smell of alcohol was prominent on his breath. He looked over at her and saw her face. “I mean it I may be tipsy but i know what i'm saying and its all true” he said. “thank you” she replied. She didn't know what to say.
She was never mad at negan for all that even when it happened only when he ignored her did she truly get pissed. Everything else is just a thing. She never blamed him. When his father beat her she never blamed negan. When negan ignored her she never blamed him she was mad but never blamed him. She always blamed his father. Even when they slept together she never blamed him because it was mutual. She never blamed negan so him apologizing was odd and left her confused.
They spent most the day at the cliff just thinking and being together. Negans phone rang pulling him away. “Hey” he said into his phone. “oh yea of course” he said “yep ok” he said and hung up. “um she wants to talk so...I guess i'll drop you off at your house” he said. They got back into the car and drove to her house. “I’ll see you monday” negan said. “Hey...it'll be ok negan. we’ll do this together” y/n said getting out the car. He smiled and nodded. For the first time today he smiled. She walked inside and flopped onto the couch. This was taking more of a toll on her than she originally anticipated.
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umbralich · 5 years
Text
History pt. 2 - Plan B
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Part 1 <---
The next day offered Iris some answers. The storm still raged on, and on her way back to Rosaria's house, by walking past the harbor she had found out not only Pavel's ship had returned, but most of the others as well. The harbor was full of ships and boats of all sizes, anchored tightly side by side, sails bound, clattering against each other by foaming waves. Iris cursed heavily their horrendous luck. She had spent the whole night trying to sleep but with no success. If her own feelings and thoughts hadn't kept her awake, the weather had. She was cold, tired, hungry and especially angry. It was late afternoon and she hadn't eaten anything. She had offered their rations as compensation to the cart driver last night for their last moment cancellation and having to wait in heavy rain for nothing. Miraculously she had avoided losing any more gil to the merchant.
After arriving to her destination she cursed again, when she noticed Rosaria still wasn't alone at home. It was more silent than it had been the last time, but while observing the house she had still occasionally heard Pavel barking at his wife. She didn't even want to think of what kind of night Rosaria had behind her.
On the other hand, where exactly would've Pavel gone, no matter how much Iris had hoped him to do so? It was still raining heavily, and not including guards pretty much everyone avoided going outside. The city was cold and grey, and if some lone traveler would've arrived there now, it would've seemed abandoned. Perhaps the soon arriving nightfall would be their chance. When he wasn't at work, Pavel used to spend his time in pubs with his comrades, drinking. And as far as Iris had come to know the sailors of Limsa, nothing - absolutely nothing - prevented them from having their drinks. Before she had even realized it, plan B had already formed in her mind. "Is this tha one?" a hoarse male voice suddenly asked from somewhere nearby. "Surely looks like it. Black hair, long ears... nice ass." Iris quickly turned towards the speaker, and noticed there was a huge roegadyn standing in the nearby alley, looking straight at her. The dusk's lighting made him look more like a black mountain than a man. Before she could even decide what do to or how to react, someone answered him. "Yep, that's her aight", another huge man, a highlander hyur stepped out in the open from another alley, opposite of the roegadyn, and behind Iris. "There ain't many viera around the town, and even less who'd have any need to run around these corners in heavy rain. Goin' to disturb the cap'n and her woman again, cupcake?" Iris wasn't quite sure what the hells was going on, but she certainly wasn't going to find out. She dashed back towards the bigger street she had just come from, but her way was blocked by a hrothgar, equally colossal as the two other men. She turned around and prepared to escape through the last possible alleyway she had left, but as she had already partly guessed, it too was now blocked - by another muscular roegadyn, and although not as big as the first one, still equally nasty looking. All of them were wearing the usual lominsan clothing: jodhpurs, boots and a loose blouse, vest or both. However, all of them were hooded. It could mean only one thing. I will die, Iris thought, trying to fight the rising panic inside her. I will die if I can't get out. The four men were perhaps big as boulder and probably multiple times more powerful than her, but she was still certain she would be the fastest and most agile one here. She leapt on one of the empty barrels left next to the wall and grabbed the eaves with both hands. Iris was so concentrated on her task, that the approaching men's angry yells and cursing sounded like they were coming from somewhere very far away. Victorious, she was just about to hoist herself on the roof, when something punched her. The events that followed felt like they would've happened very slowly, yet they were one fast, chaotic mess. First there had been a loud, disgusting crack, that made her whole head hurt. Thus Iris suspected the noise had come from her, but she tried not to think about it. Her grasp from the eaves had slipped, and for a fleeting moment she had felt like she had been floating. She had been certain she'd die because of the fall, but someone had grabbed her before she hit the paving, and instead of paving, she had fallen on someone whose reek of old ale, sweat and leather even the current downpour hadn't managed to wash away. The man who had caught her, had taken a tight hold of her before she could get back up. Someone else had also grabbed her left arm to prevent her from fighting, but dimly she could remember she had managed to yank another one of her daggers out of scabbard with her free hand, and judging from a shrill shriek she had heard from somewhere nearby, she had managed to wound someone with it. She had lost the dagger quickly however, and when she had tried to fumble her another weapon, her whole belt had been suddenly missing, the scabbard alongside it. There had been so many punches and kicks she had lost her sense of time almost instantly after it had started. The four big men she had seen first were the ones who did most of the beating, but Iris had also seen quick flashes of a younger, slender and sly looking midlander hyur when she had happened to open her eyes for short moments. Every time her hands hadn't been held back, she had tried to protect her head. Then had followed a short while when she hadn't been beaten, but was instead dragged somewhere by at least two of the big men, while the others escorted her, one at the front and two behind her. Undoubtedly further away from the big streets and the alleys right next to them, towards the harbor. Even the damn raindrops hurt when they fell on her. From what came after that, Iris could remember even less than the previous happenings. Of course she knew she had been badly hurt, but she wasn't aware of the details. She could only remember the unbearable pain, not being able to flee no matter how much she had fought and squirmed. Breaking bones, sharp stabs, muffling her so that she could hardly breathe. Not until several days later, after she was told about it, she had learned of what exactly had happened to her. When they finally stopped, Iris was still conscious, although barely. The men laughed and spat on her, before leaving her alone. Heavy steps receded, until the only sound Iris heard was the heavy rain drumming the paving. One raging, desperate thought she still had left was "I don't want to die."
But she would die. She could literally feel her blood leaving her with every heartbeat. She wasn't sure was the ground red or did she just have so much blood in her eyes.
Perhaps both.
---> Part 3
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omeliashepherdhunt · 5 years
Text
Clarity and Closure
Ch. 2
A little late, and a little short, but life got really chaotic for a while and it took a while for writer’s block to go away. I’d love any feedback or reblogs. Enjoy!
“Welcome to LaGuardia, thank you for flying Southwest.”
The long flight with a 10 month old baby was enough to do Amelia in and the trip really hadn’t even began.
Leo was asleep in the baby carrier strapped to Amelia’s chest. All he wanted was Amelia and she was finally able to get him to doze off about twenty minutes before they landed. They had no clue if he’d stay asleep when they transferred him to his car seat in the rental car but either way it had to be done.
After baggage claim and checking out the rental, they were happy to get on the road. It was 6 p.m in New York which meant it was 3 p.m back home. Owen thought it would be best to not get Leo’s sleep schedule messed up so they would still be going by Seattle’s times.
“Where to first?”
“362 Rosalind Road. Queens NY. That’s my mom’s house.”
Owen typed it into the car’s GPS and forced out a smile for Amelia.
“Does she know we are coming?”
“No. I reached out to my niece Brooklyn, Lizzie’s oldest daughter. She lives with Mom because Nancy kicked her out for not going to college. Brooklyn said she’d be home tonight.”
“Okay, good. Maybe with Brooklyn and Leo there, she won’t be too upset we are just dropping in.”
Their 35 minute drive from the airport to Carolyn’s house was tense. Amelia hardly had anything to say and Owen tried his best to be there for her but to give her space. She hadn’t seen her mom in many years. This would be a huge deal.
“We’re here. Should I carry Leo or do you want to?”
“I will. Hopefully holding him can help keep me calm. He makes everything better.”
With Amelia’s arms full of young toddler, Owen rang the door bell. In less than 30 seconds, a young Shepherd opened the door.
“Aunt Amelia! Hi! Look at you. You look so great. Nana just got done putting away dinner. Come inside, I know it’s cold.”
Owen was amazed at how much Brooklyn looked like Amelia. The Shepherd genes were incredibly strong he had come to know and instantly his mind wandered to thinking of what their future kids would look like. Surely they’d resemble Amelia probably more than they would him.
“Brooklyn... the last time I saw you, you had no front teeth. You’ve grown up and look so much like your favorite aunt.”
Brooklyn smiled a dimpled smile that mimicked Amelia’s almost perfectly.
“That is probably what keeps my mom and Nana up at night.”
Just then, Carolyn Shepherd came from around the corner and stopped dead in her tracks.
“Amelia?”
“Hi mom.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you. It’s been a long time.”
It was too hard to read all of the emotions in the room. Carolyn looked less than pleased.
“Come sit down. I’ll get everyone some water.”
Owen followed Amelia and Brooklyn into the living room and sat beside her so he could hold her hand for support. Carolyn reappeared shortly after with four glasses of water.
“Owen, it’s nice to see you again. I’m a little surprised you two are still married. Amelia has never been able to stay with anyone for more than a few months.”
Neither of them were willing to tell Carolyn that technically they were divorced but now back together again.
“Mom. I’m not sure that really matters. We are happy together. This is Leo, our son. He’s almost one and the most amazing baby there is.”
“He is cute. I’m not sure which one of you he looks like.”
“He can resemble me a little but he isn’t our biologically. We actually just adopted him.”
Carolyn was taken back. She never expected Amelia to mature to such a level she willingly would adopt someone else’s baby.
“So what did you come here for? You make more money than I get paid from social security so I hope it isn’t about that. I can’t support any drug habit of yours.”
“Umm, no. I don’t need money. I’ve been sober for years. I wish you could move past that.”
“That’s a bold wish to have. Stuff like that just doesn’t go away. You have stayed away for 11 years and now you want to reappear with a husband and baby? It doesn’t get to be that easy for you.”
Amelia could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn’t believe this would happen.
“Mom, I didn’t just stay away. I always tried to call or text you. You never bothered to respond. I invited you to my wedding. I cried and begged and pleaded for you to come.”
“I have a dead husband and a dead son. I am protecting myself because if you overdose, I cannot be destroyed over it. I’ve lost too much. I won’t apologize for protecting myself. ”
“Wow, okay. Clearly coming here was a terrible idea. You’re mad at me for your own choices.”
“Of course I’m mad! You think after all these years you can just come waltzing back into our lives? You made the decision to stay away!”
And so the night kept getting worse...
“You’re very delusional if that is truly what you believe happened.”
Carolyn let out a sarcastic snort.
“I’m not the delusional one. I wasn’t the one on and off drugs for half her life!”
Brooklyn jumped up from her chair, utterly shocked her grandmother could be so cruel to her aunt.
“Nana, please stop!”
Amelia was the next one to stand with a very confused Leo in her arms, looking around to try to figure out why all of the grown ups were so upset. Amelia’s bottom lip started to quiver and she knew her voice would start to break.
“I can take you doing and saying a lot of things to me but I won’t take it from you in front of my husband or my own son! Dad and Derek are rolling in their graves right now without a doubt. You’re an empty shell of a mother and as vain and unforgiving as they come. Eleven years wasn’t nearly enough time to stay away. I wish you the best but I’m done. Leo and any other kids I may have don’t deserve to have such a hateful grandmother in their lives. He won’t ever grow up knowing who you are. Goodbye mother.”
Owen watched Amelia storm outside and quickly tried to gather her purse and the diaper bag so that they could leave.
“You know... Amelia coming here to try to patch things up with you was a really big deal. It’s a shame you don’t treat her with the same grace you do your other daughters.”
Owen grabbed their stuff and basically jogged back to the rental car.
“Wait! Aunt Amelia, can I come stay with you?”
Brooklyn had her purse in hand and looked desperate to get out of there. Amelia closed the door from buckling Leo back in and forced out her best smile even with her watery eyes.
“Of course Brook. Come on, we are staying in a suite so you’ll have your own bed and not be right on top of me and Owen.”
“Thank you so much.”
.
With their bellies full from amazing room service food, everyone got settled in for bed. It didn’t take Brooklyn long to fall asleep on her bed in the living room area of the suite along with Leo who was fast asleep in his pack and play next to her. Amelia was grateful they had a bedroom private to them because she needed a good cry and didn’t want to disturb her niece or her son. Brooklyn had filled them in on all the awful stuff the family had said about Amelia through all the years. They were even told about Nancy kicking Brooklyn out for not going to college and that even Carolyn was hesitant to take her in if she wasn’t going to be doing something with her life. Shepherds went to college. It was basically a rule. Brooklyn preferred to enter the work force immediately which was a taboo choice.
Owen took one look at Amelia and instantly his heart ached. She looked so small all curled up on her side, hugging her knees to her chest. He wish he could take all of her pain away... She deserved so much love and happiness. He had been so awful to her for so long and he hated how it made him feel now which made it even harder to think about how terrible he made Amelia feel. She was his Amelia— the kick ass chief of neurosurgery, smart, beautiful, and so damn sexy, protective and loyal to both him and their son. She was everything to him and now he saw that even clearer than before.
“Amelia?”
“What?”
“You can lay with me, you know...”
“I want to be strong. I’m just not. I feel like I’ve simultaneously been slapped across the face and punched in the stomach. I definitely got the closure I needed from my mom. I just didn’t expect it to hurt so much.”
Owen gently pulled Amelia to his chest and tucked a piece of her soft chocolatey hair behind her ear so he could see her face. Her eyes were still glistening with tears which made Owen want to trade places with her even more. In one swift movement, he turned her over and held her closely to his warm chest. Instantly that opened the floodgates and Amelia lost all composure. Her sobs were muffled by his shirt and he tried his best to console her. Kissing the top of her head, wiping tears as they fell, or rubbing her back— whatever it took, he would do.
“You may not feel strong right now but you are by far the strongest person I have ever met. I’m not just saying that either. You’re a freaking superhero. You’re going to be okay. I’m right here for you, and I always will be.”
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go-just-me-fan · 6 years
Text
"Welcome Home" Part 1: Nothing feels right
(Before we start... It's the first time ever I wrote something like that and first time I wrote in English! It's not my native language, so if there are mistakes, just let me know. It was fun thing to do in my free time and I really hope you'll enjoy!)
"It'z been quite a vhile, Freund..."
Marvin turned around suprised by familiar voice. Doctor Shneeplestein was standing jauntly in front of him with lazy smile on his face. But... it couldn't be! He haven't seen him for really long time, who knew where he was and now he just...? No, it MUST be Anti's trick, messing with his mind again! How he figured out where his next performance is? Hell, even magician himself didn't know he'll eventually end up here. He got that special invitation for performing in local festival barely yesterday and-!
"Could you finizh zhat monologue in your head already?" Doktor was losing his patience. "Lizten, Marvin. It iz rea-" He couldn't finish sentence because Kit-Kat suddenly gave him a loving embrance. Shneep froze but after a few seconds hugged him back with little smirk. "I mizzed you too" he wishpered against his ear.
Marv took a few steps back and wiped his tears away before anyone could notice. He had so many questions! Like: "What his friend was doing here?" "Where are the others?", "Are everyone safe?", "Where Doc was this entire time?"etc... But the only thing that could come through his mouth in this moment was: "What the hell?!"
"Marvin." Ze Good Doktah started again. "I know zhat zituation iz confuzing but... Pleaze try to trust me. We're back to take you home. To end what we ztarted. Just... follow mein lead."
Masked magician had to focus hard on what Doc was saying to him because they were, in fact, still in crowded amusement park and that german accent wasn't really helpful. Although when Doctor started walking somewhere, Marv gussed that he should probably follow him.
Then, when he didn't even know where they were going, he decided that is the best time to start asking actual questions and complain about doctor's absence, relife when he (finally!) came back, his life as traveller-performan and his fears about future. As futher they got, Magnificent started being more and more quiet. Not only because Henrick's responds were quite short and meaningless to him (seriously, since when he started using so many german words?) but he also was leading them deeper into the woods. He didn't like that for obvious reasons.
"So, like... we need to get somewhere?" Magician hoped that Henric eventually have to explain anything. But he just nodded as the respond. Marvin started to worry a little, so he chose another tactics.
"Nobody could hear me screaming here, huh?"
"Vell yes." Doc seemed to be spacing out. "Vait, no! I mean..." He realised what he just heard. "Maybe... but it iz really spezific question, bist du alright?"
"Can't you just tell me why you keep speaking weirdly and you came out of nowhere just to take me...! WHERE THE EF IS EVEN HERE?" Magician felt worse with every second. Something was odd. His comrade didn't tell him everything yet. Well, frankly, he didn't tell him much at all and even if he did... well, thank you strange accent for making life even harder!
Before Doktah could say anything, someone called from beyond the trees. "Doc? Is that you?"
Marvin froze. Now he was even more shocked, he knew that voice very well. Shneep smieled at him apologetically.
"Jackieboy-Man?" Whispered Cat Mask.
"Shneep, what the hell, I thought you had been peeing or something you can't just..." Jackieboy Man wave at them and approached. He instantly stopped when he saw Marv. "Oooch, okay now... Marvin?"
Marv was still standing in the same spot, staring at Jackie. After a few seconds he looked at Henric questioningly. Shneep just nodded with smile.
"MARVIN! YOU'RE BACK!" Hero proceed to squash him with loving hug. Magician was out of breath but didn't do anything to stop Jackie before he let him go.
"I'm so happy! All gang is here!" One minute more and Hero could cry like little baby. Marv raised an eyebrown:"All gang is here?"
The Most Red One facepalmed. "Och, I totaly forgot! Everybody awaited you!" He turned around with the speed of sound and ran toward something in the distance. A car?
"Marvin" said Shneep quietly but understandable, when Jackie finally disappeared. "I'm zorry I couldn't exzplain everything earlier und ich came out of ze nowhere but..." He paused and took deep breath.
Catty Mask was listening him patiently. "Yes, Doctor?"
Henric smiled greatfully. This feeling inside when someone called him "Doctor" not ironically was... really nice.
"I oftzen start rambling in german zhen I'm ztressed." He explained in the meantime. "Ze thing iz... I helped to put our family together again in some purpose, Marvin. And..." He hesitated and thought about accurate words before he continued. "Maybe we can be happy aftzer all, Marvin? What do you zhink? Could we... overcome obstackes... together?"
Frankly, magician was speechless. Just yesterday he was hoping that he could earn enough money to afford some decent food and now... His brothers were all here and Shneep was talking that they're about reach the happy end and it looks like he won't have to starve ever again with them and... Something was still odd. He put our family back togheter in some purpose, huh? Overcoming obstacles? Marv was just praying that Shneep didn't plan anything crazy. What they could possibly do? Cheer each other up until their problems won't go away?
Suddenly JJ appeared in front of him. This lovely little fella know how to sneak around unnoticed. "JJ! Aw, I missed you so much, your mustache hasn't changed at all!" The Magnificent forgot about his doubts for a moment when he saw this pure, happy face.
JJ signed something, but it was too chaotic and quick to understend. When he saw Marvin's confused face, he took deep calming breath, signed heart with his hands and started wiggling his mustache jokingly. Kit Kat hugged him with laugh.
Jackie came back to them too and with no hesitation joined group hug once again.
"Come on, Doc! We know you love us!" called Boy Man and everyone opened arms at him. Shneep rolled his eyes but let them hug him.
"OKAY!" yelled Cat Magician as he managed to escape all that love. "I think I have enough hugs for a few good years." He looked around and straightened up concered. "But where is...?"
Then someone landed on his back from a great high. Marv hit the ground and the last words he heard before he passed out was: "YOU'RE BACK TOO?! THAT'S ACTUALLY SICK! I HAVE SO MANY TRICKS TO SHOW YOU! I EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT SOME NEW YOU COULD HELP ME WITH AND..."
Yep, here's Chase.
*******************************************
When Wannabe Furry woke up he couldn't see well. As it turned out it's because they were in a huge van. Without windows. JJ sign that their budget was... limited.
They put him down on the only small couch they had. Shneep was listining to Marv's pulse. Everything was okay, it was just shock. Chase apologised while playing with teabags low-spirited.
JJ was preapering tea for everyone which was hard with four other people in that small place. Jackie was sitting outside, trying to not disturb.
Cat Magician eventually sat down and took a look around. Shneep sat next to him, without a word. When JJ gave them cups, The Magnificent gently stroke his hair. "Thanks, bud."
James nodded and started doing something else. Shneep was closed in his own world in his mind, Chase was trying to throw as many teabags as he could to the pot and Jackie wasn't even here. What's that again, they avoided him?
"So... what's now?" Magician was getting tired of the fact that he have no idea what is going on. I mean... more then usual.
For some reason now no one wanted to reply.
"Oh, come on, I can't do everything for you!" said Jackie angirly while leading against the door."If you won't put this diplomatically, I'll just go straight to the point, Doc."
"Um, yeah? Just tell me what is happening, coz I don't wanna be impolite but I could looking for the next job for me right now, but insted I'm hang out with some dudes in van without windows IN THE MIDDLE OF A FOREST!" Marvin eventually explode with anger.
Everybody stared at him suprised for a while. Even Dad One stopped training his challange skills and quietly mentioned: "There is a highway nearby-"
"NO ONE ASKED YOU!"
"Sorry."
"Ja, Marvin, you are right." Shneep looked at angry Cat Man deadly serious. "Just lizten to me to ze end, gut?"
Marv folded his arms over his chest and nodded. And here went the plan...
*******************************************
"WHAT?!"
Shneep tried to calm Marvin down but failed. "Lizten, it iz ze only way..."
"WE CANNOT K I L L ANTI!" he yelled at him at the top of his lungs like he wanted to reach Doctor's common sense. "That's... That's... Ridiculous!"
"Marvin, please..." Shneep was not giving up that easly.
"And you all... you all agreed?! JUST LIKE THAT?! Even you, Jamie?! You really dissapointed me..."
JJ stared at the floor ashamed and kinda scared. Chase tried to comfort him a little.
Marvin was about to ran out of there, when he stumbled into Hero. He grasp magician's arms tightly.
"Listen, it was also my idea. We can't live normally with this Glich Bitch on our back. And even if we'll just ignore his existence, he'll end us slowly, painfully and eventually. And then... Who knows what he can do? Who will become his next victim? Someone we love? Someone we knew? Competely random, innocent people? It's finally time to face him, cowards!" He let him go as he finished the sentence.
Now Magnificent was even more dizzy. He didn't belive that they could just kill the problem (esspecially such pain in the ass like Anti) but... they were right. Somehow.
Kit Kat came back and sat on the couch again. This time he decided to listen for real. "Okay, I don't like it but... What's the plan?"
Jackie reached something under the seats and gave him old, dusty book. One page was marked specifically.
"If mein surveys were correct, zhat iz ze spell zhat can end ze demon for good" explained Shneep. Marvin started studied the book carefully.
"What if spell will fail?" He asked even though he knew exacly what would happen.
"I got this, Marv" Jackie pulled up the sleeves and winked.
"And I got the gun" Told Chase happily. Cat Mask snorted:"Oh, yeah... Nerf can be really useful when it comes to facing the- What the...?!"
Chase showed him real wepon. Marv didn't really know what to think about it.
"So your plan B is... making huge chaos and screaming so maybe we confuse him?"
"Pretty much" murmured Henric.
"Good enough" shrugged Cat Man.
"We even have his address!" signed Jamson, who was happy that his brothers stopped arguing.
"Address?" Marv was suprised. "I didn't know that Satan Himself has some house."
"Don't you worry, Marv!" yelled Jackie. "I have courage and strengh, Shneep clever mind, you magic, Chase gun and JJ nothing better to do, what could possibly stop us now?!"
Marvin stifed ironic comment. He looked at book again. He was going to learn this damn spell as fast as he could and finally get some rest. Average or eternal.
*******************************************
The very next day, they were at their destination. It was the place where probably Anti was. Frankly, it looked like dump. But there were many wild plants and JJ really liked it.
"Okay, you know ze plan, ja?" Doctor turned to brothers. Everybody comfirmed. Shneep smiled and looked at them foundly. "Pleaze, be carefull."
"I cannot wait to demonstrate him my kickass powers!" Jackie was even excited. Chase chareged his weapon nervously. JJ was stroking his mustache. His hands were shaking almost unnoticible. Marvin was reapeting the spell in his mind over and over again.
Before they came in, Shneep wanted to check out one last thing. Sudenly he pointed something behind them nervously and yelled:"IT'Z HIM!"
Jackie Boy Man started doing some strange karate poses, Jamie covered his eyes with still shaking hands, Marvin jumped into the bushes and Chase dubbed.
Shneep was watching this reactions helplessly. Well, that's not really army he needed/deseved/wanted but on the bright side...
"...we're dead as fuck."
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anavoliselenu · 7 years
Text
Hiched chapter 6
But why? We are dating, aren’t we? Damn it . . . if I ever want to win her over, I need to figure out what makes her tick. I’m not above asking for help. And who knows a woman better than her best friend?
I already know Camryn works in the marketing department. Tracking down her cubicle is easy from there. When I find it, I see it’s a mess of papers and folders, one of those chaotic systems where I’m sure she’d try to convince me she knows where everything is.
She’s typing away, and when I stroll up, her fingers suddenly stop and her eyes lift to mine.
“How can I help you?”
I almost laugh. She’s so formal. She and Selena are definitely cut from the same cloth; I can see why they’re such good friends.
“I need to talk to you about Selena,” I say, and Camryn’s brow furrows.
It crosses my mind that maybe she won’t want to help me. I decide to lay all my cards on the table and see if my candor will make her bite.
I lower my voice and lean in closer. “You know about the whole marriage contract, right?”
“Yes, and I’m not going to help you try to convince her, if that’s why you’re here. Selena’s a big girl, and she can make up her own mind.”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
“Fine. What do you need? I’m not exactly Team Justin, you know?”
“That’s fine, because we’re both Team Selena.”
She swivels her chair away from the keyboard and faces me. “You have five minutes.”
“Why is Selena so opposed to this? I hate to be so cocksure, but most women drop their panties at my slightest interest.”
“Selena is not most women.”
“Believe me, I’ve noticed.”
“So, what seems to be the problem, lover boy?” She shifts her weight in her seat, looking me over with an amused expression. She’s enjoying my desperation way too much. “I never imagined that Justin Tate, the legendary sex god, would have any problem seducing a woman.”
“Sex god, eh?”
She shrugs. “Are the rumors true or not?”
“Depends on which rumors you’re referring to.”
“That you have a magical nine-inch dick that tastes like strawberries?”
I burst out laughing despite myself. We’re in a crowded work area with people sitting well within earshot, and she’s discussing my cock like we’re picking out carpet samples.
“As much as it pains me to say this, let’s get off my dick and onto the topic at hand.”
She squares her shoulders. “Right. Selena.”
“Tell me what she likes. Hobbies. Interests. Things she enjoys.”
Camryn takes a second to think it over. “She works her ass off all week, which I’m sure you know. So if you’re referring to the weekends, she likes watching rom-coms and has a secret romantic side. She buys herself a bouquet of peonies at the farmers’ market every Saturday.”
“That’s good.” I pull out my phone and type peonies into the notes app. “What else? Favorite color? Food?” I already know she likes dirty martinis and red wine, but charming Selena will take a lot more than just liquoring her up.
“Green. Like money.” Camryn grins. Selena always was an overachieving powerhouse. “And she loves tapas.”
“Isn’t that just appetizers for dinner?”
“Basically,” Camryn says with a shrug.
“Got it. Anything else?”
She looks away for a moment. “Well, there is one thing, but I don’t think you’re going to want to hear this.”
“Lay it on me.”
“She has this scrapbook of her dream wedding. She’s been adding to it since she was a little girl.”
“Selena?” My eyes widen. “The same Selena Cane who protested getting married has dreams of a grand wedding?”
“Exactly. She’s always dreamed of a big, beautiful wedding. She’s actually really mushy underneath that hard shell. What her mom and dad shared was special, and she’s ultimately looking for the same thing. The perfect wedding. The perfect husband.”
It all hits me at once. “And this arrangement crushes her lifelong dream.”
“Well, yes.”
Camryn seems oblivious of the huge bombshell she just dropped on me. It doesn’t matter if I know Selena’s favorite color or dinner spot. She wants the one thing I can never give her—a real happily-ever-after.
My heart sinks a little. No matter how well we’re getting along, I’m not foolish enough to think I could fill in for her soul mate. Unless . . . I swallow as a wave of nerves hits. Holy freaking matrimony. Am I ready for that?
“One more thing,” I ask Camryn. “Why doesn’t she ever date?” Not since that douche of an ex in college have I seen Selena with another man.
“Basically? She’s a picky bitch,” Camryn says with a fond smile.
“She’s waiting for her Prince Charming to sweep her off her feet.”
“Something like that.”
“Thanks, this has been really helpful.”
“Good luck,” Camryn calls as I head toward my office. She lets the you’re going to need it go unspoken.
Fuck . . . I’ve got my work cut out for me.
Chapter Twelve
Selena
On Justin’s tuxedo-clad arm, I walk into Clair de Lune, a five-star French restaurant overlooking the East River. Escargot, caviar, white tablecloths, hundred-dollar bottles, the whole nine yards.
Even though this event is purely business—a dinner meeting meant to win over a new client—Justin brought me a bouquet of peonies when he came to my office to pick me up. He was polite and attentive, and it almost made me forgive him for getting me riled up the other day.
Who am I kidding? The man riles me up every five minutes.
The hostess guides us to our reserved table, where Miss Estelle Osbourne, the forty-something chief marketing officer of Parrish Footwear, is already seated with a glass of champagne in front of her. She looks regal in her lavender-gray chiffon evening gown, its sheer capped sleeves appliqued with silver lace—a sexy, yet sophisticated touch. I suddenly feel both underdressed and frumpy in my simple knee-length black sheath.
I read Miss Osbourne’s business profile online while studying up on her company for this dinner. After completing her Ivy League education, she landed a job with fashion giant Luxor Brands and has been climbing the corporate ladder ever since. She just took over Parrish’s esteemed head of marketing role last year, and so far she’s doing great things.
Talented, successful, beautiful, with keen business instincts . . . she’s exactly the kind of woman I strive to be. Which only makes the prospect of trying to impress her more nerve-racking.
“She got here early? Now it looks like we’re late,” I hiss under my breath.
“Relax, Snowflake,” Justin murmurs as he pulls out my chair for me.
Easy for him to say. How does he always stay so cool? I’m balanced on a knife’s edge of excitement and anxiety. Getting hold of this new client in the first place was an unbelievable stroke of good fortune. If we manage to charm this woman, her company’s contracts will go a long way toward digging us out of the red. Tate & Cane desperately needs this business dinner to come off without a hitch.
After everyone shakes hands and introduces themselves, Justin and I sit down. The waiter materializes with the wine list and three menus. I order the beef bourguignon and a glass of last year’s Beaujolais nouveau. Bring on the red wine.
The waiter departs and I take a sip of ice water to clear my dry throat. Don’t worry, you’ve got this.
“So, as I was saying earlier on the phone, Tate & Cane is currently implementing a solid plan for—”
“Oh, surely business can wait until after the main course.” Miss Osbourne, or Estelle, as she’s told us to call her, interrupts with a smile that says she’s clearly accustomed to getting her way. “How long have you two been together?”
“Uh . . .”
How the hell do I explain that we’re in the trial phase of an arranged marriage? We only started dating a few days ago, but in a sense, we’re sort of . . . pre-engaged? I should probably just make something up. And I have to do it fast because I’ve already paused for way too long. But I also have to make sure my lie won’t come back to bite us in the ass later.
“For as long as we can remember,” Justin says, smoothly covering the awkward silence. “Our fathers were close friends and business partners, so we spent most of our childhoods together. It was meant to be.”
“How sweet.” Estelle simpers, looking between us with curiosity.
“In fact, that reminds me of a story from when our families summered together . . .”
Oh God, here it comes. Justin deploys one of his secret weapons: a cute anecdote about how he once saved a puppy from drowning in Shinnecock Bay. It’s an old tale, wildly embellished over the years, guaranteed to make women fawn and panties disintegrate.
I start tuning it out in favor of concentrating on the fragrant food that just arrived. I’ll let Justin have his playtime for now. It’s probably a decent strategy to let our prospective client get a few drinks deep before pitching our business anyway.
Eventually, Justin finishes his story amid Estelle’s approving murmurs. I start listening again when he leans slightly toward her, his manner conspiratorial, as if he’s about to say something intimate and profound. But all he asks is, “Tell me . . . would you happen to be named after Estelle Carmen, the Hollywood designer?”
Estelle actually giggles. “You and I both know I’m too old for that to be true. She was only a girl when I was born. But I appreciate the attempt at flattery.”
“Really? I would have sworn otherwise.” He flashes her a thousand-watt grin.
“Stop it,” she says in a coy lilt that tells him to do no such thing. “But I’m surprised you know that name at all. Are you a student of fashion, Mr. Tate?”
“I’m always interested in what beautiful women are wearing . . . or not.”
“You ought to be more careful with that fresh mouth of yours,” she says, scolding him playfully.
What the hell is happening here? Did I suddenly turn invisible to them?
I shoot a glance at our waiter, who’s cleared the main course dishes and asked twice if we’d like dessert. He looks almost as irritated as I feel, which is both reassuring and terrifying.
At least I know I’m not just going crazy here, but I hate that Justin and Estelle’s antics are so visible. With the way they’re carrying on, anyone would assume they were old friends . . . or maybe even a couple. I’m the odd man out. My only companions are an empty wineglass and the first hints of an oncoming headache.
“Sorry about that,” I tell the waiter. “Yes, please go ahead and bring us the dessert menu. And the cocktail menu too. Thank you.” Gotta buy time to get this dinner back on track . . .
I seriously have no idea what’s going on. Justin and I reviewed our game plan at the office just a few hours ago—talk numbers, explain why Estelle should trust her company’s advertising campaigns to Tate & Cane, and get a commitment, even an informal one. But he’s gone totally off script.
They’ve covered a wide range of topics from their favorite sushi bar (they share the same one), to the best Vegas hotels, to last year’s dip in the stock market—which Parrish Footwear weathered quite well, thanks to Estelle’s forward thinking—but nothing to do with securing her business. No hard facts, no persuasive arguments, no recognition of the entire fucking reason we came here tonight.
So far, I haven’t managed to get out a single sentence of the sales pitch I spent three hours preparing. Not to mention that the way he’s flirting with her makes me want to puke. Aren’t we supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend? Because Justin sure as hell hasn’t been playing the part.
We can’t walk away tonight until we have a firm idea of whether or not Parrish is with us, which means I have a long damn way to go. And the first thing I need to do is have a word with my dear sweet boyfriend. Preferably someplace private, where our client can’t hear me ripping his balls off.
I check my phone, pretending that I heard it ding, then interrupt their lovefest with a plastered-on smile. “Honey, can I steal you away for a moment? My father just texted me with an important question.”
Without waiting for a response, I push out my chair and stand up, grabbing Justin’s hand. I drag him all the way to the back of the restaurant, near the kitchen’s swinging doors. A passing waiter gives us a curious look.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I growl, trying to keep my voice low despite burning with rage.
Justin blinks in surprise. Then a smug grin begins to dawn over his face. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of me paying attention to another woman. That’s so cute. Don’t worry, Snowflake. You’re the only girl I have eyes for.”
I correct him with barely restrained fury. “Don’t you dare try to flirt your way out of this one, you self-obsessed ass. I couldn’t give a damn about where your eyes go. I’m pissed because you’re making our relationship look like a joke, and I don’t appreciate being the punch line. You were practically licking the béarnaise sauce off her fingers!”
Another waiter passes by. This one looks amused. I don’t really blame him—we must look ridiculous, a pair of socialites dressed to the nines and feuding outside the kitchen.
I grind my teeth. I’m already humiliated and mad enough that everything just makes me feel worse.
Justin scoffs at me. “Oh, come on. It’s called networking. Greasing the wheels. She knows it’s nothing serious. I’ve done this kind of thing a million times.”
Why am I not surprised? “That hardly makes me feel better. And our waiter seemed confused as to who the couple was here, me and you or you and her.”
“Who gives a shit what he thinks? She’s the one holding the purse strings. She’s who we’re here to impress.”
“I’m asking you to give a shit what I think!”
He blinks. “What? Of course I—”
“No, you clearly don’t, because otherwise you’d be listening good and hard right now.”
He throws up his hands. “Okay, fine. I’m listening. Just explain what the problem is.”
I suck in a deep breath through my nose, trying to calm down enough to put my thoughts in order. “Let me spell it out for you. You’re the one who made such a big deal about putting on a good performance, keeping up appearances, making our relationship look real. And now you’re acting like the same manwhore you’ve always been. Except now, I’m here to catch your collateral damage, and it’s embarrassing. You disrespected me.”
His eyes shoot open wide. “I never meant—”
“It doesn’t matter! Your intent doesn’t change the results. Maybe it never even occurred to you that I’d have a problem with your bullshit. I can give you that benefit of the doubt. But I’m standing here now, telling you how I feel. So, please knock it off.”
He covers his mouth with one hand, pulling down hard, and lets out a loud, harried sigh. “I . . . didn’t look at it like that. I was just trying to woo the client. Like I always do.”
Wow, he actually looks taken aback.
Somewhat shocked, I let my voice soften. “Well, if I’m in your life now, that can’t happen anymore.”
“In my life, huh?” He considers me with an expression I can’t quite read. “So that goes both ways, I guess. I’m in your life too?”
“Seems that way.” I sigh. “We’re stuck together for a good long while, at least.”
Now I can read his face—the first flickers of that familiar sinful smile. He reaches up, and at first I think it’s to cup my chin. But then he just runs his finger down my neck, that long stretch of exposed skin, all the way over the curve of my shoulder. I can’t help my shiver.
“You make it sound like a jail sentence,” he teases.
I smile. Only slightly, but it’s there.
He leans even closer and asks, “Are you sure you weren’t jealous at all?”
My two glasses of wine have lowered my guard. That’s my excuse for why, instead of telling him to shut up, I admit, “Maybe a tiny bit.” Then I regain my senses and add, “But that doesn’t change my original point.”
He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything.
My cheeks start to warm as he regards me. Why did the jerk even ask, if he was just going to stand there staring?
“What?” I’m starting to get embarrassed again, but it’s different from before—a ticklish, almost excited twist in my stomach, instead of an upset, painful tightening. And the defensive tone of my own voice only intensifies the feeling.
“Nothing. I’m just a little surprised, that’s all.”
I roll my eyes in an attempt to stop staring into his. “Come on, don’t give me that. You know the effect you have on women.”
That grin is full-blown now. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“No. I refuse to play travel agent for your ego trip.”
“If you want, I can take my turn first.” Before I can stop him, Justin starts listing my pros. “You’re the smartest, most diligent person I’ve ever met. Watching you work is fucking hot—in your element, poised and confident, the way your pretty blue eyes flash when you’re about to tear some poor schmuck apart. I can’t help wondering if you’re just as fierce and tireless and creative in bed. You’re honest to a fault . . . is your body honest too? Do you wear pleasure on your sleeve? Or would you try to hold back, make me work for it? Believe me, I’m up to the challenge.”
His words knock me breathless. What the hell just happened? And why does it have to make me tingle in the worst way?
The half praise, half dirty talk strikes a weak point I didn’t even know I had. Or maybe I only feel this way because it’s Justin who’s saying such sweet, filthy things, gazing at me so fervently. His husky voice softens and warms me, and I suddenly feel so exposed. Unshielded. But not in a bad way, not like a naked-at-the-important-meeting nightmare, because I know that Justin would never hurt me. He would never take advantage of my vulnerability.
Or maybe he would, but only in the ways that I secretly want.
Justin takes my hands, turns my palms up in surrender, his thumbs rubbing light circles onto the soft thin skin under my wrists. When I can’t repress the shiver that races through me, he grins like a wolf. Oh, he saw that reaction, all right. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and I both hate it and love it.
“And I’d do just about anything to get my hands on your amazing body,” he continues mercilessly. “I’ve never seen a more perfect woman . . . every inch of you, tight ass and luscious tits and legs just made to wrap around my back. Kissing you the other night wasn’t nearly enough. I’d love to watch your expression change as I pound into you. Watch you give up control, turn off your brain and just feel.”
“Y-you don’t play fair,” I finally manage to stutter.
“Hey, that’s not how this works. Compliments, not insults. Believe me, I already have a pretty good idea of what you think my bad points are.”
“Uh . . .” I swallow. “You’re pretty cool too, but in a different way. Good with people and words and stuff, instead of numbers and strategy.”
“Is that why you’re blushing right now?”
In a way, yes. But his sculpted jaw, full lips, and piercing dark eyes are what make his words truly intoxicating. And the fact that he still hasn’t let go of my hands.
“You take charge, and sometimes I hate that, but sometimes . . . it’s nice to have a break.”
His smile turns mischievous. “Oh? I’ll be sure to make a note of that. Anything else?”
I retreat to safe, familiar ground. Harsh words, something I can deny later as just a joke. “Are you just trying to get me to admit you have a nice ass?”
But when his only response is a silky, dark chuckle, I realize my mistake. He wasn’t fooled at all—why did I ever think he would be?—and now I’ve backed myself into a corner. Literally and figuratively. As I talked, Justin slowly leaned closer, bit by bit, until I can just barely feel the tickle of his breath.
Suddenly, acutely aware of the rising temperature between us, I cut myself off. “Shouldn’t we get back? It’s rude to keep Miss Osbourne waiting.”
Justin’s stare is too intense for me to look away. “The only woman I’m interested in entertaining right now is you.”
I shift a fraction, needing to leave but wanting to stay, and I realize that my panties are soaking wet. Everything I never let myself feel or think about Justin rushes to the surface. My body doesn’t care that he’s a juvenile jerk. I hate that my libido is so totally out of my control. I hate that I’ve always had such a wicked crush on Justin. Fate must be laughing her ass off at me right now.
Justin leans even closer, stopping just short of contact. I can almost feel the brush of his lips against mine, and my stomach clenches with desire.
“Still only first base?” he whispers against my skin. “Or do you want more?”
I don’t answer. I’m not even sure I can speak. I just wet my lips.
That one tiny move is like loosening a coiled spring. Justin lunges forward to devour my mouth. My knees weaken with his expert onslaught. His strong arms wrap around me and his hands are everywhere, igniting my nerves, fingertips grazing what feels like every inch of bare skin. I feel a flash of frustration that my dress is so modest; I want his touch all over me, unrestrained.
He yanks our hips together and I feel his erection press into my belly. Something wild shoots through me, a fierce, territorial satisfaction. That hardness is all for me. Not Estelle, not any of his past conquests. I’m the one who’s making him feel this way right now. Such powerful, primal need aimed squarely at me and only me.
He’s all mine. The unbidden thought strikes deep into an animal part of me I never realized I had.
On fire, I cup his bulge through his pants, wanting to assert control and show off my sexual power. But that was a big mistake . . . emphasis on big. Feeling just how impressive and steely hard he is only makes me even more desperate. I groan and squeeze him in my palm.
“If you don’t stop, we’re going to have a problem,” he growls out.
I giggle, feeling almost tipsy with lust. “You sure it’s our problem and not just yours?”
He abruptly draws back, pulling an involuntary noise of disappointment from my throat. But my fervor spikes again when he takes my hand and hurries me toward the nearby restroom. He pulls me inside and locks the door. I drop my purse in the corner just as he shoves me up against the wall.
Our mouths crash together again, lips and tongue moving like they were made for this. Our making out intensifies as his fingers fumble at the back of my dress. He finds the zipper, tugs it halfway down, then abandons it to push my sleeves down past my shoulders, trapping my upper arms.
I squeal in shock—then quickly clap my hand over my mouth—when he kneels to swirl his tongue around one nipple and pinch the other . . . hard.
“No bra tonight?” he murmurs between licks and suckles and gentle bites. “Naughty girl.”
I want to explain that this dress doesn’t work with a bra. I want to tell him to shut up and fuck me. But all I can do is tremble at the sparks of sensation shooting from my breasts straight to my clit.
“God, these are beautiful,” he says on a groan, taking my nipple in his mouth.
I can only watch, desperate, as he kisses my breasts, and let out helpless moans.
“And so sensitive.” He moves to the other, giving it a wet kiss that ends with an audible sucking sound. He hikes up my skirt and runs his fingers along the center of my panties. “Just as I thought,” he murmurs. “Nice and wet for me.”
I open my mouth to argue, but Justin chooses that moment to kiss me again.
Then he lifts the side of my panties and his fingers slide in. No fumbling at all now, no fooling around, no teasing—he knows exactly what I’m dying for. One long finger parts me, petting me, putting just the right amount of pressure on that swollen bud. I mumble some unintelligible groan. Justin’s tongue continues working against mine. Then two deft fingers crook deep inside me and the heel of his hand rubs my aching, swollen clit. Heat surges through my core and I choke out a cry of relief. Yes . . .
Justin growls with possessive satisfaction. “That’s what I like to hear, baby. This pussy is mine now, and we both know it. I’m going to take damn good care of my wife . . .”
His dirty talk pisses me off and sets my body on fire all at the same time. I don’t know what to feel. I can’t think at all. I just hang on to Justin, struggling to keep standing while the white-hot pleasure coils tighter and tighter. I bite my lip hard to muffle my moans.
“Fuck . . . Justin . . .” I moan, rolling my hips hard against his hand. I’m so agonizingly close. Just a few more seconds . . .
Someone knocks at the door.
We both freeze in place, me topless and clutching Justin’s shoulders, Justin with his hand up my skirt. The absurdity of the picture suddenly strikes me. I might have laughed if I weren’t so terror-stricken—and teetering on the edge of a mind-blowing climax. Even with the fear of getting caught washing ice through my veins, I’m still burning up.
“If you move your fingers, I’ll kill you,” I whisper frantically to Justin. No way would I be able to keep this orgasm quiet. It’s been six long months in the making. And I want it more than I want my next breath.
“Hello? Is anyone in there?”
Oh my God. That’s Estelle’s voice. Our client is standing less than three feet away, and my stupid sexy boyfriend’s hand is still down my panties.
“It’s Justin and Selena,” Justin calls, pulling off a perfect casual voice. “We just had a few things to talk about.”
“In the bathroom?” she asks with obvious skepticism.
Is she suspicious or just confused? Damn it, I should just throw myself out the window right now.
“Private family matters, you understand. We’ll just be another minute.”
After a heart-stopping pause, I finally hear her footsteps move away.
“Stop touching me,” I hiss under my breath.
Justin gives me a hey, not fair look. “You told me not to move my—”
“You know what I meant, smartass! Now get out of my panties!”
Chuckling, he withdraws. “I think that’s the first time a woman’s ever said that to me.”
“If you want to hear worse, that can be arranged. Now, zip me up.”
After Justin helps me yank my clothes back into place, I check the mirror over the sink. Jesus, I look like a train wreck. Lipstick smeared everywhere, hair rumpled. My appearance practically screams I just humped a guy in the bathroom! What a great bargain . . . all the public embarrassment of sex with none of the “actually getting to have an orgasm” part.
I retrieve my purse from the corner, pull my travel brush through my hair a few times, then start scrubbing at my lips. As I apply a fresh coat of lipstick, I notice that Justin hasn’t moved from his spot. He’s straightened his tie and rebuttoned his jacket, but other than that, he’s just been waiting patiently for me.
He could at least have the decency to look ashamed about tempting me into this mess . . .
“Aren’t you going to wash your hands?” I snap at him. One of them was just buried in my you-know-what, after all.
With a wicked grin, he lifts that hand to his nose and makes a show of smelling his fingers, inhaling my scent, and my face flares bright red.
“No way,” he says simply.
I tear my hungry eyes away and huff, “Whatever. Let’s just get back to the table and hope we haven’t already ruined this deal.”
“Uh, sweetheart . . .”
I glance back at him. “What?”
He releases a deep breath slowly through his nose. “If I go back out there like this, I’ll be arrested for indecency.”
I follow his gaze, which has dropped to the front of his slacks.
Holy hell. It looks like he’s smuggling a pineapple in his underwear.
“Get that thing under control.”
He squeezes his eyes closed and takes another deep breath. When his eyes open again, he looks slightly more composed. “Let’s roll.”
As we leave the bathroom, I try to pull myself together. With Estelle in my sights again, I get my head back in work mode.
Sure, Justin may be unfairly attractive—and now I know he’s good with his hands too, on top of being a skilled kisser—but I still need to stay frosty here. He’s an arrogant, cocky, immature playboy who doesn’t take business seriously enough.
So, keep your head in the game, Selena, I remind myself.
But the unsatisfied ache between my thighs is almost too much to bear. This dinner will definitely qualify as the longest evening of my life.
Chapter Thirteen
Justin
“Well, that went well,” I say as I maneuver my sleek black Tesla out of the parking garage. I give the gas pedal a modest tap and we fly off down the street.
I feel ten feet tall, as smug as can be, and I don’t give a shit right now. Not even the way my cock is aching like a motherfucker can ruin my mood.
Selena shoots me a questioning glare, and I know she’s wondering what I’m referring to—the business meeting with the new client that we’ll probably land, or my favorite part, almost getting her off in the bathroom. My body is still primed and ready to deliver.
“I can’t believe you didn’t wash your hands,” she snaps.
“I may never wash this hand again.” I smile and make a lewd gesture with my fingers.
She turns away from me with a huff and looks out her window in silence the rest of the way home.
When we arrive, the penthouse is dark and quiet and my hormones are still raging. Selena sets her purse and cell phone down on the entry table, then turns, putting her back toward me.
“Will you unzip me?”
I drag her zipper down her back, letting my fingers graze her skin, appreciating the twin dimples in the small of her back and the very top of her lacy thong.
Torture. This is pure torture.
Taking a chance, I lean forward and place a soft kiss against the back of her neck. “We could finish what we started at the restaurant.”
Her breathing has grown shallow and I can practically smell her arousal. I know her panties are still soaked. The idea of touching her again has me nearly overcome with desire.
“It’s probably not a good idea. We should keep this strictly professional from now on. We need to focus on the business, don’t you think?”
But she sounds the slightest bit unsure, and that’s all I need. It tells me that it’s only a matter of time until I get what I want. And what I want is her tight cunt wrapped around my cock, where I can pound away for hours. Days, even.
“You were so close back there. I could feel your pussy gripping my fingers, that swollen little clit pulsing in time with every heartbeat. You were about to come,” I whisper.
The heat of my breath sends a rash of goose bumps racing down the back of her neck. I know a woman’s body well, how to read all the signs and signals, and everything about Selena is blaring that she needs to be fucked. Stripped down, laid on the bed, and worshiped like the goddess she is.
“Justin . . .” Her voice is almost a groan, and my cock hardens instantly.
“What do you do for fun, Snowflake? Everything can’t be about work. Sometimes blowing off some steam is a good thing.”
“For everything there is a season.” She straightens her posture. “And this is our season to buckle down and focus on business, not play grab-ass games. I’m sure that’s a foreign concept to you, but—”
“Believe me, I’m dead serious about Tate & Cane. But business is for the workday. After hours is for playtime. And in case you failed to notice . . .” I trail one fingertip down her spine, lingering at the waistband to her panties. “It’s dark outside. And we’re two consenting adults.”
“Two? Try counting again.”
The ice princess takes a step away from me and heads toward the bedroom, where I drink in one last glimpse of her bared back and hips before she shuts the door. I can just imagine her letting the dress slip down her long legs, the fabric pooling around her still-heeled feet, her firm ass covered only with a scrap of lace . . .
God. Fucking. Damn it.
I rake my fingers through my hair and blow out a frustrated sigh. For a second, I don’t know if I’m frustrated because I’m horny and insanely attracted to her, or because she’s making it impossible to win our bet.
No. Fuck that. It’s just because I want her. I want to take her in my arms and understand that we could really have something here. She’s just so damn stubborn. And her secret dream of a romantic wedding—I may not be her first pick, but I want to at least meet her halfway, as more than friends. I’ll just have to find a way to pull this off and keep everyone happy.
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