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knpjpr · 4 years ago

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fucked up. | jjk sm au

⇆series: #fake

⇆main ship: gamer!jungkook x student!reader

⇆genre: angst, angst, and angst and then some fluff

⇆word count: 4.5K (unedited)

⇆warnings: theres cussing, unprotected sex, (wrap it up smh.) riding, dirty talk, tension between yn and jungkook, slut shaming, taehyung x lou ;), taejoon friendship confirmed, jimin and yoongi fight, jungkook and yn fight, everyone is messy tbh

⇆ a/n: if you'd like to be added to the taglist, send me an ask + time stamps are in this part for a reason

Yn ; October 31th | 11:21 pm

The minute you and Lou are entering the house, everything is in full swing. People scattered all around, some at the bar table filling their cups with whatever type of booze they could, others dancing, playing beer pong, and much more that you knew Jin would throw a fit about later.

Lou is parting ways with you, automatically walking her way to the booze table and pushing some guy you’ve never seen over as you make yourself home to a space on the couch. Lou looked pretty, just like your dark angel costume, she’d placed herself in a white version, the curve of her body showing nicely. She was indeed a pretty angel.

Taehyung is the second person who you see tonight, walking up to you with the same smile you’ve known since fifth grade. “Care if I join you?” He’s noticeably a vampire, the corners of his mouth leaked with fake blood as his red contacts contrast with the costume.

“Sure, Lou went and ditched me… as usual.”

He’s laughing, the only sound that made you feel comfortable in this crowded house full of people you’ve seen but never made the time to get to know. The two of you had finally been able to talk after a long time and it was nice. You and Taehyung were good friends and you hoped it stayed that way.

“I like your costume.” He says, taking a quick glance over at your outfit, but deciding that if he looked any further it would make you uncomfortable.

You’re smiling at him this time, settling into the party as your side tucks into his. “You want something to drink?” Nodding slowly, Taehyung is standing up and walking towards the bar table.

It had been a few minutes of you sitting there when you decided to walk around the place. Loud music with people’s chatter to overlap with it. You easily are swinging past bodies, trying to find Taehyung’s figure who wasn’t at the bar table any more. It wasn’t until you feel a hand on your shoulder when you are close by the backyard sliding doors that you stop. “Hey.”

You turn and there Jungkook is, red solo cup in hand, and a smile placed on his face as your heart pounds. He looks hot, black hood over his head with clown makeup decorating his face, his jeans ripped like always. His costume was simple, but even so, still made your heart race.

He had been waiting to see you all night, got here early due to Namjoon’s request to get out the house and help, and so seeing you here made his heart happy, made him happy.

He’s taking a long glance down your body, swallowing hard when he notices that you aren't wearing alot to cover your figure, parts of your body like your cleavage and thighs on full display to him. “Like what you see?” You tease as he frowns down at you, which has you laughing, unintentionally placing your hand on his chest.

His gaze softens the minute your touch is all he feels. “Why don’t we go somewhere quieter?” He asks, watching as you move closer to him every time someone pushes past you. “Sure, follow me.” You say as you slip your hand into his and start leading him past others, not noticing the blush that rises on your cheeks.

Namjoon ; October 31th | 11:37 pm

Namjoon was a tall.. a little too tall handsome guy, to which he had found out by the longing glances he would get from girls and even so guys. This was not his usual thing, never had himself at a party so he was determined to find someone he knew and hang with them for the majority of the night.

Slipping past a few people, he’s coming into sight of Taehyung, choppy brown hair displaying in messy waves as a red solo cup had been accompanying him for the night. Namjoon is walking up to him, dimples on full display, which has Taehyung splitting his gaze from something to him in an instant. “Yo dude, like your costume.”

Namjoon did not plan to go all out for this simple halloween party, and seeing as Jin told him that it was a costume party, he opted to dress up as his future career. He wore a bright orange nasa jumpsuit, one that his mom bought him per his request. He wanted to be an astronaut and sure hell this kid could do it.

“Thanks.” Namjoon takes a seat beside Taehyung, finally realizing that his attention wasn’t on the 5’11 tall ass guy seated next to him, but rather on a shorter girl who’s doe eyes were scanning around the kitchen.

Namjoon recognized her almost instantly, didn't even have to question it by the way Taehyung is sighing hard. “When has she looked that pretty, and why am I just realizing this.” He blurts, Namjoon not knowing if he’s talking to him or to the air that this party didn’t have enough of.

“Why don’t you talk to her?” Taehyung cocks his head in Namjoons direction, an unrecognizable look on his face. He had been watching her the minute he assumed you found Jungkook, his gaze not being able to falter at all from her direction.

“I don’t know man, I don’t want to fuck up our friendship.” Taehyung admits, he didn’t know whatever the feeling that he felt right now was. But he did know if he were to explore it, he could possibly fuck it all up.

“Well, you never know. That’s why they are called “leaps of faith,” namjoon shifts in his spot on the couch, watching as the girl they had been looking at is startly approached by another figure. “You never know. If you don’t go, others will.”

Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice, getting up from his seat the minute the girl’s face crinkles in uncomfortableness at the other unknown guy. Taehyung didn’t know what would come out of him and Lou, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t ignore how he felt at that moment.

Jimin ; November 1st | 12:03 pm

If there was one thing Jimin knew, it was that costumes at Halloween parties are not mandatory. He very much disliked dressing up in some tacky costume, like a couple who had just walked past him as a firefighter and a dalmation. Fucking lame.

Instead, Jimin dressed hot, dressed in clothes that he wore all the time, but for Yoongi, it made his heart pound and Jimin knew that. Could tell all just by the way Yoongi would take long glances the whole ride to Jin’s and would constantly suck in air the minute Jimin is softly brushing against him.

Jimin had been seated on one of the bar stools in the den of Jin’s house, carefully watching as Jin and Yoongi go at it in a round of beer pong. Yoongi was losing terribly, his attention too intertwined with the blonde that was sitting comfortably behind him.

Jin’s turn was next, only had three more cups to go before Yoongi was completely plastered, which meant that Jimin would have to drive them home. Yoongi was already starting to become drunk, the smell of booze making Jimin’s nose crinkle in a cringe. Drinking was overrated.

Jin takes one of the balls in his hands, angling his hand as he squints before chucking the ball, the sound of a plastic ball hitting liquid making Yoongi groan. “F-fuck man.” Yoongi grunts, slipping the ball out of the cup before tipping the cup up to his lips and chugging the rest of its contents.

Jimin watched with distaste, Jin smirking widely before waiting for Yoongi to try his shot with the remaining eight cups left on Jin’s side. “Man, I think it’s far to see I've won.” Jin says taunting but Yoongi glares hard at the older male. “You, you shut your big lip ass up. I can do it just fine you f-fucker.”

Yoongi reaches his hand down into the small basket full of ping pong balls, grabbing the plastic orb and trying to copy Jin’s movements, but failed with a drunken stance, the ping pong ball bouncing off the table and onto the floor.

“S-shit.” He groans, Jin smirking as Jimin rolls his eyes. There was no way that Yoongi was going to win and it was starting to annoy Jimin because he was sitting here watching him just drink and drink.

Soon enough Yoongi was sipping down his last drink, proving ultimately that Jin won fair and square. “Damn dude, usually you beat me. Must be my lucky day.” Jin laughs out and Jimin slips off from the bar stool. “I’m going to go get me some water.”

Yoongi being completely plastered was a bad thing. Not only was he extremely clumsy but he was ill-tempered and acted rash and right on the spot. So the minute he’s coming to the conclusion Jimin’s leaving him behind, he’s turning fast and accidentally spilling the remainder of booze on Jimin’s clothes.

“Fuck! Baby I didn’t mean to.” Yoongi says, not paying attention to the looks people are starting to give the minute they realize what just left his mouth.

Jimin didn’t care about his clothes, but what he did care about was Yoongi just outting them out. Outting him out. Yoongi had been trying to wipe away the stain with his hand, not even understanding that wasn’t how it worked.

Jimin slapped his hand away, Yoongi’s face forming into a frown as he realized Jimin was pissed. “Don’t fucking touch me.” Yoongi finally realized around him that people were watching, looking back at Jimin.

And here came the ill-temper that Yoongi had when drunk.

“Are you fucking embarrassed of us? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Yn ; October 31th | 11:42 pm

You had found no one occupying Jin’s guest room, slowly leading Jungkook inside and locking it so no one could come busting inside and interrupting the two of you. Which was usually drunks and or people looking for places to fuck.

Jungkook sat on the end of the bed, his usual man spreading pose coming into your line of sight. It makes you blush, having to stop yourself from being anymore of a fool that you could possibly be.

“Hey, you can come sit too.” Patting with persistence you’re sitting down with a slight giggle that has Jungkook smiling back at you. He had noticed the blush that placed your cheeks, his starting to burn.

“You’re blushing.” You blurt out, that has Jungkook flinching as a slightly irritated look was on his face. “You’re the one who’s blushing.” He says, eyebrows furrowed as you look away from, trying to cool down your face.

“It’s because of you,” he speaks out, his straightforwardness never faulting in his personality. You turn your head to face him, face bright red with doe eyes piercing his gaze. “It’s because of you that is making me blush.”

At this moment your heart is beating fast, his body shifting closer to yours as you swallow hard. Jungkook has always been clear cut, always knew what he wanted, but when you came along, his dynamic changed. He wanted you, and he wanted to prove it.

“Tell me if you don’t want to.” That’s all he says as he waits for your response. Your heart almost about to burst out of your chest. You wanted this, for him to kiss you again and to be wrapped up in just him. “Go ahead..”

That is all you had to say before his lips are in the space of yours, hearts beating at the same pace together. His hand slowly creeped up and intermingled with yours. Your stomach filled with butterflies, his warmth and smell surrounding your senses.

The next thing you knew, you were spread out on the sheets of Jin’s guest room, Jungkook’s flushed face and deep breaths as he doesn’t know what he wants to do first. “I don’t have a condom.” He says, because obviously he didn’t think he would be over your naked body like this, about to fuck you like this.

Your response is filled with shyness, the fact you’ve never let someone look at you like this, and because he didn't know he looked so adorable at this moment. Hair standing up every which way, eyes hooded, and cheeks pink. “You can continue..”

“Is this your first time?" He asks as though that should be the response to what was about to happen. You can't help the giggle that tumbles from your lips, gesturing along to his slightly shocked face. "Yeah, it is."

He's coming over to you, looking you in the eyes as you slightly bite a hold on your lip. "Ah, uhm okay. I’ll be gentle, just tell me if anything is hurting." He talks distractedly as he investigates your body and you can't tell if he’s nervous or just doesn't know what he’s doing.

Whenever he's settled on his decision, he's moving to lay over you once more, your legs spread out towards him. Going to press another kiss to your mouth, however you're halting him before your lips are contacting. "You can chill too, you know? I don’t expect this to be perfect."

He’s nodding his head, before sitting up and pulling his shirt off his head, which was the last article of clothing that made the two not fully naked.

"How about you ride me," An idea that plainly flew into his head, however he's finishing, moving back and onto his back. You couldn’t help the blush that crept up on your face the minute his hands came in contact with your waist, placing you above his torso.

He’s moving to align himself perfectly with your entrance, a slight moan escaping from your lips the minute you're slowly slipping to be seated on him. He groans, his hands coming to make a place on your hips. You didn’t know what to do at first, this had been your first time, and it wasn’t like you were taking notes on how to be fucked.

It was the way he would moan differently that had you figuring out a better pace for the both of you. His head had been placed back into his pillow, at an angle to where he could watch how your tits would bounce and exactly how your wetness would pool down onto his dick. “God fuck baby, you feel so fucking good.”

His words rolled off his tongue with such ease, you hadn’t been uncomfortable at all by his dirty talk. And he knew that just by the way your walls would clench and a longed out whine would slip past your lips. If you did that again he probably would have cum right then and there.

His hands held a tighter grasp on your hips the minute you were placing your hands to rest on his chest, your hips rolling at a quicker pace, his dick rubbing up and down on your walls. “Fuck..” His tip slips back as you bring down your hips back onto him.

“Yeah baby, just like that." He praises, voice stressed as he feels his cock jerk somewhere inside you. He's not even sure where you learned this, because plot twist you didn’t learn it anywhere. Your pussy fixes around him at the finish of his words and it pushes him to the edge, making him throw his head back again.

It’s when he’s feeling his high coming that he’s moving your back, your chest pressed to his as he’s moving his legs and thrusting into your pussy. You moan loudly, his nails digging into your hips as your hands are tangled in his hair. Lips finding each other as you could feel your climax reaching too.

He doesn’t stop his fast thrusts until your moaning non stop, the feel of your nails digging hard into his hair, legs shaking uncontrollably as the two of you are hitting your climax. The sound of his moans mixing with yours as the only person you thought about was him.

His arms stay around your body until the roll of your hips transforms into little jerks, gasped breaths hitting his neck which has him smiling softly. His neck cranes so he can get a decent glance at your face, a fucked out smile on your face. “Damn, dick that good?” He teases as he feels a huff pressed to his skin.

You're fast to turn in his arms, scrunching your nose as you gaze toward him. "You suck, you really looked hot in that costume," He laughs loudly at that, as he rests his nose in the crook of your neck. You're immediately loaded up with warmth as his arms wrap themselves around your waist. He wanted nothing but to stay in this moment with you.

An all around recognizable feeling starts to pool in your stomach. It was beginning to get harder to contain your complete infatuation with Jungkook, to hold yourself back from falling excessively fast. The way he had been holding onto you gently, drawing circles with his fingertips, and even humming softly, you knew you were fucked.

Yn ; November 1st | 12:37 pm

Soon enough Jungkook is slipping away from your grasp, checking the constant notifications dinging from his phone which made him shoot up from the bed and hurry up to put on his clothes.

“Woah- Is everything okay?” You ask, pulling the sheets with you to cover yourself. Jungkook could see the worried expression on your face, “Yeah baby, don’t worry Hoseok needs me down stairs, Jimin and Yoongi are fighting.”

The minute you are hearing his words, you have to digest. First, he called you baby and boy did you like it, and second Jimin and Yoongi were fighting? You were shocked, hurrying to get out of bed but Jungkook is stopping you.

“No. You stay here okay? I’ll come back after it’s all done, it’s just so you don’t get hurt.” That’s all he says before he’s rushing out of the room leaving you with a shocked and worried feeling.

It had been about twenty minutes and Jungkook still hadn’t come back, so you decided that you would go see what was going on by yourself.

Walking down the stairs in one of Jin’s hoodies and shorts, you heard a lot of yelling, but most importantly crying. Slipping through a few people your heart almost broke at the sight.

Jungkook had been holding back Yoongi as Hoseok and Jin did the same with Jimin, Yoonig’s face streaming with tears, eyes red and nose bloodshot. “Why the fuck are you so scared huh?? Am I nothing to you?!?” He screams, trying to claw out of Jungkook’s hold as Jimin’s eyes are just as hurt as Yoongi’s are. “I never said shit about that Yoongi! I just wished you would have given me time!”

Yoongi can’t control what he’s feeling at that point, tears still streaming as he’s still trying to fight his way out of Jungkook's hold. “You’re my fucking boyfriend Jimin?! Why is that so hard to accept??” Everyone is shocked as Jimin breaks down. You had never seen Yoongi so hurt before, never seen him cry and sure as hell never seen him interested in someone. Jimin doesn’t even look Yoongi in the eyes before he’s leaving, slipping past people who were recording, tears streaming through both of their eyes. Yoongi screams after him, begging him to stop walking and come back but Jimin doesn't and you could tell it broke Yoongi more.

Soon enough Jin announces the party will continue and for no one to panic as him and Jungkook lead Yoongi up towards his room, trying to calm down the crying guy with every walk.

You needed something to drink after that, today was a lot to process and a drink from whatever was in the bottle that was in your hand would suffice. “Now bitch, boy do I have some tea to spill for you.” Lou’s voice rang from beside you, a bright smile on her face.

She instantly notices you’re in Jin’s clothes, but decides that she’ll ask you about it later, but first she needs to tell you about what she just experienced. “Girlfriend guess who just kis-” She doesn’t even get to finish her sentence before someone is walking up.

Lou steps beside you the second her personal space is being invaded, the look on the guys face nasty and uncomfortable. “I’m glad I finally found you again, I never got to ask your name before that one guy came.”

From the way Lou shudders and the way he talks you can tell she’s met him and doesn’t want to again. “Listen dude, she’s not interested.” You speak up, but the guy doesn’t take his hint, a sour look on his face the minute you’re interjecting.

“Listen bitch, why don’t you go get fucked somewhere else alright?”

He’s motioning towards Jin’s clothes, a ping in your chest the minute you realise he just slut shamed you, an instant feeling of discomfort coming through your skin. Lou is seconds from saying something before Taehyung is stepping behind the guy and coughing loudly.

The guy falters, looking over his shoulder and swallowing down. “You know what? I think my friend just called me.” No one gets to say anything before he’s walking fastly away, a worried expression on Taehyung’s face. “Yn? You alright?”

You couldn’t move, the minute you are hearing the concerned voices of Lou and Taehyung has you unintentionally crying. Taehyung doesn’t know what to do when he sees this, softly reaching out and grabbing a hold on your arm and pulling you into a hug.

Jungkook ; November 1st | 1:13 pm

Jungkook helps Jins put Yoongi on his bed before he’s walking across the room into the guest room and being hit with emptiness. He rushed downstairs and looked across the house only to see people going back to what they were doing.

It’s when he looks toward the kitchen that he sees you, but what he sees makes his thoughts run loose. He couldn’t deny that since the day he had proposed to “fake date” that maybe you still thought of it like that and even so, liked Taehyung.

He was pissed, pissed because now he was convincing himself that you played him, pissed at himself for slowly falling for you when he shouldn’t have. He’s walking over towards the kitchen area and clawing you out of Taehyung’s grasp. “Man what the fuck.” Taehyung frowns hard at the younger guy, but Jungkook isn’t looking at him.

“I think it’s time to end the deal.” Jungkook seethes through his teeth, his jaw clenched as you looked confused. Lou and Taehyung were confused behind him. “Jungkook why are you ups-” He doesn’t let you finish, the grip on your hand tight. “I was stupid to think you liked me, but you know what that’s what I get huh? I mean I was the one who suggested for you to fake date me to get over Taehyung for Lou. But even still it looks like Taehyung likes you over her.”

“You did WHAT??” And that’s when shit hits the fan. Jungkook’s eyes widen the minute he realizes what he’s said, Lou scrunching her fists around the cup she had in her hands, liquid spewing out.

“What a load of bullshit.” She doesn’t even look at Jungkook, her cold gaze directed towards you. You had seen this look before, always toward her mom or her brother when they severely pissed her off, but now it was directed toward you for the first time.

“I knew it was all fucking weird. But you two seriously took me for a fucking fool huh? I can’t believe this is what you do behind my back.” You were scrambling, trying your best to not break down. “Lou it’s not what you think-” She doesn’t let you finish either, grabbing a bottle of alcohol and throwing it on the floor, breaking it. “So this is the kind of friend you take me for!!” She looks you dead in the eyes, before turning around and realizing that Taehyung had heard Jungkook’s words. She couldn’t do this, turning around fully and running away, out the house or somewhere in the house, just anywhere away from there.

You push your way out of Jungkook’s grasp, making him realize that he fucked up the minute that he’s watching your back, your figure running away and out the house. You had just lost your best friend and the guy you were falling for all in one night.

↫ masterlist ↬

— "first loves have always been confusing, but when you're bestfriend confesses she likes someone, your willing to do anything, even fake date and even so, find your first love."

⇆a/n: if you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask - (if you aren’t being tagged. turn notifications on)

TAGLIST: @pjmriri @yoongiofmine @shatzkrinslinzki @sereni-soo @avke @betysotelo18 @she-is-dreaming @jkslachimolala @rageyoudamnednerd @teti-menchon0604 @peachy-skz0325 @shreyuuu @pvt-only @lovelytaes-blog @awseokjin @girlwiththeglittereyeliner @tanumiki

283 notes · View notes

spine-buster · 4 years ago

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Patience is a Virtue ft. Matthew Tkachuk | 𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑒

CONTENT WARNING: this story deals with cults, polygamous cults, escaping cults, strict adherence to religion, gender roles, abuse, miscarriage, and a character with a traumatic past. T͟h͟i͟s͟ ͟c͟h͟a͟p͟t͟e͟r͟ ͟s͟p͟e͟c͟i͟f͟i͟c͟a͟l͟l͟y͟ ͟h͟a͟s͟ ͟m͟e͟n͟t͟i͟o͟n͟s͟ ͟a͟n͟d͟ ͟d͟e͟a͟l͟s͟ ͟w͟i͟t͟h͟ ͟m͟i͟s͟c͟a͟r͟r͟i͟a͟g͟e͟ ͟a͟n͟d͟ ͟s͟e͟x͟u͟a͟l͟ ͟a͟s͟s͟a͟u͟l͟t͟.͟ Please be warned.

Word Count: 14,637

Please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page if you are able. Link in my bio & Masterlist.

A/N: “Courage” officially broke my record for most notes on a debut chapter, so thank you all so much for all your likes and reblogs! This chapter is more serious in parts, but we get to see an evolving Effie and an evoling Effie/Matthew dynamic. Enjoy!

* * * * *

Effie. Her name was Effie. And everybody knew it.

Rachel was no more. Rachel was a thing of the past and she was going to stay there. Rachel was a person who had been hurt and abused. Rachel was named by an abusive, violent, cruel, despicable tyrant who called himself Abraham and proclaimed he was a prophet. Rachel was a girl with no voice, no agency, nothing to call her own. Rachel was a girl who belonged to someone.

Effie was new. Effie was her chosen name and a thing of the future. Effie was a person learning to come to terms with her trauma after years of hurt and abuse. Effie was name by herself, for herself, to reclaim her identity after years of it being denied to her. Effie was a girl with a voice, agency, and even though she could only count a few things as her own, they were just that – her own. Effie was a girl who belonged to nobody but herself.

That was how she liked it.

Naming herself instilled a new sense of confidence within her. It was small, and it was gradual, but the people around her could notice it. Matthew knew he could. She was more assertive…in her own way. She didn’t ask “Can I ask you a question?” before asking questions anymore. She just asked. She was proud of her learning and was getting used to showing it off. Her independence increased. She’d walk to Starbucks to get her strawberry frappucinos instead of having Jenna drive her. She engaged in more conversation. She made jokes. She laughed at jokes. She went grocery shopping with Jenna and said “I want to buy corn dogs” so she and Jenna bought corn dogs and they had them for dinner one night. She went to Levi and said “I want to get a phone so I can text Annica” and so he gave her an old iPhone he had in the house. She asked Annica more about makeup, even though she was still a bit apprehensive about using it. She asked Geneviève about words she’d read and wanted to know more about. Feminism (that was the best word she learned, Effie thought. She was a feminist). Socialism. Communism. Democracy. Geneviève explained them all to her. She asked Geneviève about pants.

She wore pants.

It was weird at first, wearing pants. She’d only ever worn skirts and dresses, even in the privacy of her own home when she was in the cult. The prophet demanded it; women were not allowed to wear pants. So when Jenna encouraged her to try on an old pair of jeans that she had, Effie did. They were big – Effie was still, well, small, and gaining weight every day – but Effie liked them. “Can I buy a pair of jeans?” she asked Jenna. Jenna promised to take her shopping at the mall on the weekend. It would be Effie’s first time in a mall.

Effie wanted to be fearless, but there was still a lot of fear in her. Everything was so new, and so big, and sometimes so complicated, and she wished things were easier but she knew they couldn’t be. But instead of before, when she would let the fear overcome her, she embraced it instead. She worked through it. She did things in spite of the fear. She did things because she didn’t want the fear in her anymore.

That’s why she found herself walking now. Walking to Starbucks. Well, not to Starbucks exactly, but to the complex that held the Starbucks and a bunch of other stores. Effie had noticed one particular one a few storefronts down and had taken mental note of it for when she was ready for it. And now, walking with purpose through Aspen Woods, clutching something very important in the pocket of her jacket, she was ready.

“Chop it all off.”

“What?!” the hairdresser shrieked as she looked at Effie through the mirror, after putting a robe around her and running her hands through her long blonde hair. “But your hair! It’s healthy and it’s long and luscious and—and it would be a disservice if I chopped it all off!”

“Please. I need you to cut it. I need you to—”

“This is the greatest head of hair I’ve ever seen—”

“You don’t understand,” Effie interrupted. “I escaped a cult. I escaped The People’s Dominion of Christ. This hair was never mine; it was always someone else’s. I need you to cut it off so that it’s mine, so that something on my body is mine for once in my life.”

The hairdresser looked at Effie through the mirror, blinking a few times as she realized what Effie was saying. Without saying another word, she reached over to her station and grabbed her scissors. “How much do you want off?” she asked.

Effie unfolded the picture from one of Jenna’s old magazines that she had crumpled in her hand, showing the stylist. “Like this,” she said. “I don’t even want it touching my shoulders.”

The hairdresser nodded, placing the picture face up at her station so Effie could look at it as the hairdresser did her magic. She took one last look at it before tying an elastic loosely around the hair. “Ready?” she asked, gripping it.

Effie nodded firmly. “Ready.”

***

Effie had six numbers stored on her phone. Levi. Jenna. Annica. Geneviève. Jacob Markstrom. Matthew Tkachuk.

“Hello?” he asked as he picked up his phone.

His voice was a welcome sound to Effie, who was nervous but excited as she looked at herself in the mirror. “Matthew? I’m—I’m sorry to bother you, but can you come pick me up?”

“I—yeah—is everything okay?” his voice sounded immediately worried. “Where are you?”

Effie didn’t even know. She covered the receiver with her hand and turned towards the hairstylist. “What’s the address?”

“225 Mercer Street, Unit 13.”

“225 Mercer Street, Unit 13,” she repeated into the phone.

Matthew was officially confused. “The Starbucks complex?”

“Yes…but a few stores down,” Effie informed him.

“I’ll be there in like, five minutes.”

***

Matthew was nervous. Effie hadn’t sounded nervous on the phone, but he was still nervous. It was out of the ordinary for her to call him to pick her up from anywhere, let alone from a place where she knew how to get home from now that she took the initiative to walk most places she wanted to go. It wasn’t like he was going to deny her – he was speeding through the streets, if he was being completely honest – but the thoughts in his mind were running a mile a minute, and he had no clue what to expect.

When he pulled into the complex, he searched for unit 13 and parked right in front of it. It was only when he turned off his car that he actually saw the name of the store he’d parked in front of. Abigail’s Hair Salon.

Matthew walked in.

He stopped dead in his tracks. In front of him, Effie stood sheepishly, her long, flowing blonde hair chopped off almost completely, and in its place, a chic blonde bob, perfectly styled and perfectly her. She had a t-shirt, baggy skinny jeans, and old Doc Martens on – no doubt all borrowed from Jenna – and she looked like a vision. He couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face. “Effie,” he said her name bashfully, breathlessly, because it was so much to take in and she just looked so…cute.

“Does it look nice?” she asked, patting it down at the sides.

“It looks great, Effie,” Matthew said, and she could tell he meant it sincerely. He bit his bottom lip before continuing his line of questioning, even though all he wanted to do was look at her. “You wanted it this short?”

Effie nodded her head.

“It suits you,” he nodded. “Did you pay?” Effie nodded her head. “Did you tip?”

Effie looked scared for a moment. “Tip?”

Matthew automatically took out his wallet and pulled a $50 from inside, giving it to the hairstylist. He turned to Effie without another word. “Wanna grab some lunch?”

“You—you’re not busy? I thought you would just drive me home.”

“Let’s grab lunch,” he said casually, like it was no big deal. “Grab your jacket. What do you feel like eating?”

***

Matthew watched Effie for most of the meal, if he was being honest. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her regardless of how hard he tried. But he kept any emotions or any feelings at bay, kicking himself for anything he was feeling that was…questionable. He didn’t want to be that guy. He didn’t want to make things more complicated for her when she was already learning so much, when the world was already a complicated place for her and she was trying to find her place in it.

“What team does your brother play for?” Effie asked, picking at her plate left with all her fries. She ate her bacon cheeseburger first and devoured it in less than ten minutes. For Matthew, it was impressive. He knew she was trying to gain weight. He shuddered to think what she looked like a year ago.

“The Ottawa Senators,” he replied.

“In the capital city,” she said, and Matthew nodded his head. “You must be very thankful that he’s in Canada with you. What about your sister?”

“She plays field hockey at the University of Virginia.”

Matthew watched as Effie furrowed her brows. “She can play sports and go to university? That’s a thing?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Matthew smiled, chuckling slightly. “She’s a great field hockey player. She committed to the school when she was a junior – when she was sixteen – and now she’s finally on campus. She’s going to school too, obviously. That’s the most important thing. But she’s also playing Division 1 field hockey.”

Effie nodded her head, considering all the things Matthew had just said. Women could go to university – she knew that now thanks to Jenna and Geneviève. But…women could play sports and go to university? Women could play sports for their university? That was new information. Effie thought about girls playing hockey and whether or not they could do the same thing. She thought to Levi watching Toronto Raptors games at home and wondering if women could do the same thing with basketball. She had not been allowed to play sports. Anything more than running, women were not allowed to do. Taryn had been sixteen and had committed to play field hockey for a university. When Effie was sixteen, she was definitely not doing that. “Your sister is very lucky,” she said softly. “To be able to do that. She’s very lucky.”

Matthew knew there was weight behind those words. They weren’t to be taken lightly. He could only imagine what Effie was up to when she was sixteen years old as opposed to Taryn. “She knows,” Matthew said. “Taryn’s a really smart girl. She knows she’s really lucky.”

“It’s kind of nice how in the normal world, women can go to university, and get an education, and play sports, and do whatever they want, and wait to have their children,” Effie said.

Matthew shrugged. “If they even want kids at all. I know some of my friends back home don’t want them. Nobody says women have to have them,” he said it like a throwaway comment, looking down at his plate to grab a fry and dip it in some ketchup.

Silence. Pure silence from Effie. He stuck his fry in his mouth and noticed how quiet it got and he looked up with half the fry in his mouth and half the fry still between his fingers, like a dumbass, only to see Effie staring at him with a blank look on her face. When he looked closer, he saw her eyes were glossy. He gulped. “Wh…What do you mean that women don’t have to have children?” she asked.

Matthew chose his words carefully. He should have known. He should have fucking known, but he just had to go open his big mouth. Now, he realized the words he was about to say would change Effie’s perception of things dramatically. The last thing he intended was for the conversation to swerve in a direction like this, but they were here now, and he had to live with it. Own up to his actions. Be the person he promised himself he would be around her. “So, like…women in modern society have the choice. They can choose not to have children. Some women don’t want to become mothers. It’s a personal choice. And nowadays, women don’t feel as pressured to have families. Like, maybe they want to pursue a career instead, but it’s not even that. You can just…not want children.”

Effie had heard the word of God her entire life. It was the first thing she remembered; it was her earliest memory. Some days – on bad days – it was her only memory, the thing that haunted her most at night, and she’d toss and turn in her bed to try and get the rolls and rolls of scripture out of her head. Be fruitful and multiply. Be fruitful and multiply. Be fruitful and multiply. But this – what Matthew was telling her – this was not the word of God. This was something else. This went against everything she knew. This went against everything she was brought up to believe. “Oh, okay,” she whispered.

Matthew could tell he had just said something to Effie that rocked her foundation. And then he thought to himself ‘Of course this would be happening. Everything is new for her.’ The modern world was completely alien to her. She didn’t know anything. No women’s liberation. No women’s rights. No individuality. Voting. Elections. Doctors. Hospitals. Jeans. T-shirts. Wearing her hair however she wanted. Makeup. Cell phones. Instagram. Twitter. Snapchat. Hockey – literally the most unimportant thing at this point. She was learning, and making great progress, but things like this – these big ideas – still shook her to her core. They went against everything she knew and everything she was brought up to believe. It wasn’t easy for any person to have their foundation cracked; Matthew knew it would be even harder for her.

“Can you excuse me for a second?” Effie said suddenly, not bothering to hear an answer from Matthew before she pushed her chair back and stood up from the table, escaping back into the restaurant.

Matthew felt like there was cement in his feet as he replayed the moment over and over in his mind, the sight of Effie’s glossy eyes realizing children were optional in the real world burning itself into his mind forever. God, to find out this way – over bacon cheeseburgers at some restaurant and not in a safe space where she felt comfortable. To have it be him, a man, that told her this instead of someone like Jenna, or Geneviève, who had been teaching her everything. He was an idiot. He was such an idiot.

A jolt of electricity struck through his body and finally jolted him out of his seat, his legs making him run towards the back of the restaurant near the washrooms where he knew Effie went. “Effie? Effie?” he called out as he opened the door to the women’s washroom.

When he stepped inside, he saw Effie huddled in a heap on the floor, her knees to her chest as tears flowed down her face. Her skin was red and blotchy and he could see her chest heaving up and down. “Effie—” he bent down to be at eye level with her.

“I need you to take me home.”

“Effie—” he reached out to touch her.

The second – the millisecond, the nanosecond – that Effie felt his touch for the first time, her entire body flinched so violently away from him that it scared him. Matthew recoiled his hand quickly as his breath caught in his throat. “I’m sorry—I’msosorry—I’m so sorry—” he stuttered out.

She was silent as she looked at him for a moment through her tears. There was a look of pure fear in her eyes that Matthew hadn’t seen before, not even the first time he met her at Noah’s birthday at the steakhouse. “What if women can’t have children?” she asked, her voice so small and frail that it broke Matthew’s heart.

He struggled to find the words because it was such a simple concept for him but such a complicated one for her. “That’s…that’s not their fault,” he said calmly, but the tone of obviousness was still apparent.

“What do you mean it’s not their fault?” Effie’s tone was incredulous, like a seven-year-old child learning prematurely that there was no Santa Claus.

“It’s not their fault, Effie,” he reiterated, not knowing how else to explain it. “I…it’s not their fault. It can be a medical thing. I mean most of the time it is, if they can’t have children. And it’s not their fault,” he just kept repeating it.

“What if…what if women don’t want to have children, but can? Are…are they punished?” she asked.

“Why would they be punished? No,” he shook his head.

“Matthew…” she was apprehensive. “Are you telling the truth?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you Effie,” he said softly, wanting so desperately to just reach out and touch her, hug her, but knowing that if he did, he’d just inflict more fear in her. “I know it’s not what you’re used to, but it’s the truth. Some women can’t have children, and some of them don’t want children, and both of those things are perfectly okay.” He watched as the tears streamed down her face as she stared him in the eye. Shaking.

Then it finally hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Effie…” he said uneasily.

“There were seven.”

The words hung in the air for an unknown amount of time. It could have been years for all Matthew knew. But as he stared into Effie’s eyes, he felt an incredible pain in his heart; a pain reserved only for her, that only she could give him. He thought of how she kept all her own pain inside her constantly, how the trauma was a part of her just as her hair, her fingers, her toes were. She carried this with her every single day. Every. Single. Day.

“It’s not your fault, Effie,” he whispered. He knew better than to try to reach out and touch her again. So he settled on words, because words were his best option. “It’s not your fault.”

***

“Did you really think you’d be able to come to a therapist’s office and think you’d be able to discuss a patient?”

Matthew stared at Dr. Jessica Barlow sitting across from him – her seated on her plush chair, him sitting on the couch he was sure all her patients sat on – and he didn’t really appreciate her tone of voice. So maybe it wasn’t the most flawless plan. Maybe there were holes. But he was there, damnit, and there for a good reason. The best reason. She was the best psychotherapist that specialized in cults in Alberta – probably in western Canada, judging by how many degrees and certificates and awards she had displayed in her office. She was the best and most qualified person to help Effie, surely, which is why Effie met with her three times a week. That meant she was also the best and most qualified person to help Matthew.

“Maybe,” he mumbled out. Matthew would have been intimidated, but for some reason, he wasn’t. Even considering they were alone in her office, even considering he’d never met or been to a therapist before, he wasn’t nervous or intimidated. He was determined. “I need you tell me what I need to do. Tell me. Tell me and I’ll do it.”

“For who?”

“Effie Schaffer.”

Dr. Barlow looked incredulous, like a mix between seeing a ghost and not believing the words that were coming out of Matthew’s mouth. But then he watched as her face softened slightly, and turn inquisitive instead of suspicious. “You’re Matthew,” she said, framing it as a statement more than a question.

He knew what that meant. “Effie’s told you about me?” he asked.

It was a lost cause – he knew that the second the question left his lips, because he knew Dr. Barlow wouldn’t tell him a word. Doctor-patient confidentiality and all that. If dentists couldn’t even talk about their patients, there was no way in hell a psychotherapist who worked with cult survivors would say a peep about anything. “Effie’s opened up to you quite a bit, hasn’t she?”

Matthew leaned in. “Yes. That’s why I need you to help me. I want – I need to know how to help her.”

“Matthew,” Dr. Barlow took off her glasses. “First you need to tell me why you want to do this,” she said matter-of-factly.

Matthew didn’t want this to become a session. It wasn’t about him; it was about Effie. “I’ve just become her friend, and I’ve been spending a lot of time with her lately, and—and I just want to know what I can do to help her get even better.”

“Because you’re her friend.”

“Yes.”

“Because you care about her.”

“Well, yes. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care about her in any capacity.”

Dr. Barlow paused. “It’s not that simple, Mr. Tkachuk—”

“Why not?” he asked, interrupting her. “She’s leaps and bounds better than when she escaped! At least according to her brother!” he defended himself. “Listen, I know it hasn’t been a long time that I’ve known her but I – damnit, I can help her. I can help her but I don’t want to hurt her – I never want that to happen ever again, even if it’s by accident, and you need to tell me. You need to tell me how I can do that so I can actually do it.”

Dr. Barlow stayed silent. “You’ve already been incredibly patient with her,” she chose her words wisely. Matthew could read between the lines. So maybe Effie spoke about him more than he initially thought. “We should just leave it at that. I appreciate the effort, but—"

“She told me how there were seven,” he said, his voice steady and calm but firm and resolute. When he looked up at Dr. Barlow, she was staring back at him with a stoic yet shocked look on her face. “She told me there were seven, and when I tried to—to console her, to touch her, the way her body jumped away from mine…I…” he trailed off. He rubbed his fingers against his lips nervously.

“So then you know and realize that Effie was a member of a religious cult where she was routinely raped by its leader so he could impregnate her with the son of God for almost five years.”

It was the first time the word had been said out loud. He didn’t want to repeat it. He wanted it burned from his memory, from Effie’s memory, from the dictionary, everywhere. He knew it happened but he didn’t want to admit it to himself. Saying the word out loud made it different; it made it real. It made him acutely aware of the trauma Effie had been through, and how she didn’t deserve any of it, yet she was burdened with it for the rest of her life. He was biting down on his bottom lip so hard he thought he’d draw blood. “Yes,” he said curtly. “I realize.”

“I know how close – relatively – you and Effie have gotten ever since you were introduced. Her progress has increased dramatically since it,” Dr. Barlow began, again choosing her words wisely. “I know everything you two talk about on your Starbucks dates. I know you introduced her to candy and watched Little Women with her. Matthew – I’m not telling you this because I’m making some point that Effie tattles and tells me everything about her relationship with you. I’m telling you this because you’ve already been doing what you need to do. You didn’t need to come here and ask me for specifics.”

“But I don’t want to hurt her,” Matthew said, his voice barely above a whisper. “What happened that day when she told me and when—when I tried to touch her…”

“It might take a while for her body not to seize up anytime a man touches her,” Dr. Barlow said. “That doesn’t mean she’s not making progress. It’s the mental progress we want to see. And it doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong, either. Just give her time, Matthew. Exercise patience with her.”

***

The next time Matthew saw Effie, she didn’t know he was coming. But he called Levi and made sure it was okay, and so when he descended down the stairs into the basement and saw Effie’s bedroom door opened, he took a deep breath. He collected himself. And he moved forward. He knew he didn’t have to do this – any outsider would have said that – but he knew he needed to do it. He needed to make it right.

“Effie?” he knocked lightly on her door before stepping into the door frame, finding her sitting at her desk reading something.

She turned her head to look at him and a smile appeared on her face. It felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders to see her smiling. He didn’t exactly think she’d be cradled in a corner crying, but he did think that maybe she wouldn’t be happy to see him. It was a relief. “Hi Matthew.”

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Of course,” she nodded, pushing her desk chair out as he walked in slowly. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been okay…” he said, biting down on his bottom lip nervously. “How—I mean, have you been okay since that day?”

He saw something flash behind her eyes – a memory of the tears, the feeling, the questions. He knew he relived it every other minute since it happened because he felt so guilty about it. He wondered if Effie relived it every moment too and whether or not it brought her constant pain. Matthew would never forgive himself if it did. “I’ve been good. Learned a lot, as you can imagine,” she joked slightly. “I read up on what we talked about. Geneviève helped me.”

“So you know it’s a thing now.”

Effie nodded. “It made me realize I never want children.”

Matthew should have been shocked by that statement, but he wasn’t. Knowing what Effie had been through, he understood why she wouldn’t want them. It was her choice to make and hers only, and nobody could or should influence her otherwise. “That’s good. Good that you can…you know, say that out loud. That you’re not forced into something you don’t want anymore.”

Effie nodded her head. “I knew it all along. I mean, children are a blessing, but they’re not for me. And knowing the way I was brought up, with abuse and no loving parenting from my parents or from anyone around me, I don’t want to pass that legacy on. I’m too scared to fall back into that. I’d have no idea how to raise a child. I know that now,” she said, watching as Matthew walked further into the room and lean back slightly on her desk. She looked up at him. There was a moment of silence between them as they were just there, staring at each other in her bedroom. Effie tried not to get lost in his blue eyes. She wondered if he could see past her calm exterior. “I’m sorry that I flinched away from you that day,” she said quietly.

“I should be the one apologizing—”

“No,” she said as sternly as she could, getting him to stop. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. You didn’t hurt me that day, so don’t think you did. I just…I get apprehensive about touch, because we weren’t allowed to, and because once I finally was, it wasn’t…nice,” she revealed, knowing he’d get the point. “But I know that your touch is nice.”

“How do you know?” Matthew asked.

“Because you’re a nice person.”

She took it upon herself to look at his hands. They were on either side of his body, gripping her desk just in case it collapsed under his weight or something – who knows. But they were there, exposed, for her to look at. They were big – bigger than Abraham’s – and younger, of course, rougher around the edges due to hockey but still better than the only other pair of hands she’d had experience with.

He caught her looking. Slowly, almost painstakingly slowly, he brought his right hand up and opened it, palm facing her, fingers pointing up towards the sky. He watched as Effie brought her hand up too, even slower than he had, opening it up and facing her palm towards his. There were a few moments where she was stagnant, thinking about how this was the first time she was going to touch a man other than her predator fake husband or her brother. Then she moved her hand closer. Closer. Closer.

When she finally touched Matthew – when she finally touched him – a million electric bolts ran through her body. The feeling of his skin on hers, his delicate yet rough touch as she pressed her small hand into his large one so she could feel his entire hand on her hand – it was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. The simplest action gave her the most surreal feeling. There were no words for it. No words, in fact, because all she could do was smile. A big, wide smile, spanning from ear to ear as she kept her hand against his.

Matthew smiled too.

***

“This was a very quick progression from ‘Can women get tattoos?’ to ‘I’m getting a tattoo’, you know,” Geneviève laughed as she and Annica watched Effie take a seat in the tattooist’s chair. The tattoo artist, a young woman with sleeves of her own, was preparing everything appropriately as the women chatted. “The turnover rate was, what, a week?”

“Less,” Annica giggled.

“When I went to the orthodontist’s when I was ten, I saw a man there with his entire arm covered in tattoos. I was so scared I started crying. I asked the prophet about it when I got back to Sheerness and he said they were marks of sinners and that the devil influenced them,” Effie laughed along with them. “But I see them on people at Starbucks all the time. I think they look really nice.”

“And you’re absolutely sure you want what you’ve requested? You’re not gonna regret it, right?” Annica wanted to make sure Effie was making the right decision.

Effie nodded her head emphatically. “Definitely. Definitely.”

“What is it? Can we see it?” Geneviève asked.

Effie shook her head. “I want it to be a surprise,” she said, biting her lip. “You guys don’t think I’m crazy, do you? Doing this to my body?”

“Absolutely not,” Geneviève replied automatically, her tone telling Effie that the notion was absurd. It was nice for Effie to know that the two women in front of her would never judge her. It was nice to know a woman could be supported in her decisions, and not be told it would make God angry and that she was sinning and going against the prophet. “It’s your body, remember? Your body, your choice.”

Effie nodded after a moment. “My body, my choice.”

***

“It’s still a bit red and itchy. Annica said I need to put an elastic around my wrist and snap it whenever I want to itch it,” Effie said, her voice filled with excitement but a certain anxiousness that was characteristic to her.

“It’s alright. Just show me,” Matthew smiled as he watched her roll up the sleeve of her cardigan. When she finally did, and stretched out her arm, Matthew’s mouth gaped open. “It’s huge!” he exclaimed, definitely not expecting it to be that big. He thought Effie would get a dainty tattoo; something small. He didn’t exactly think she’d have a “go big or go home” attitude about a tattoo – something on her body forever. But it was big. It took up at least two-thirds of her forearm. The linework and shading were impeccable; the detail exquisite. It was made up of flowers – he didn’t know what kind – but they were big and small, all sizes really, and there were a few leaves, a few stems, and it just looked so beautiful. He brought his hand up to touch, but stopped himself. “Can I?” he asked.

Effie nodded. “You can touch me,” she said, preparing herself.

Matthew brought his hand up slowly. He touched her arm, grazing his fingertips over the linework delicately. It was still bumpy, a testament to how new it was. “It looks amazing, Effie,” he whispered, his fingers still grazing delicately.

“You haven’t even seen the best part yet.”

“The best part?” he arched his eyebrow. What could be better than this?

She turned her arm over, palm facing up, where another large flower was tattooed on her skin. Matthew noticed some handwriting along the flower, and he leaned his head down to read it. ‘I am mine before I am anyone else’s’.

Matthew smiled from ear to ear. “Effie,” he whispered bashfully, just like he had when he saw that she cut her hair short for the first time. He was so bashful because he was so happy to be seeing her making her own decisions for once in her life. “Do you love it?” he asked.

She nodded enthusiastically. “I love it so much. It’s mine. It’s mine.”

***

“Did Jenna make these?” Matthew asked Levi once he was done with his stretches, noticing a giant Tupperware filled with some sort of cookies. Matthew had seen some of the other guys in the locker room with them and decided to investigate. He took a massive bite of one and his entire mouth watered. In that short moment, he was sure he’d never had a cookie so good in his life. “These are phenomenal,” he said with a full mouth.

“Nah, Jenna’s not a baker,” Levi shook his head. “Effie made those.”

Matthew’s brows rose. He gulped the bite of the cookie down. “Effie? Effie bakes?”

Levi smirked, side-eyeing him. “Effie knows how to make and churn butter from scratch. She had to learn in the cult. She knows how to bake and cook a lot of things because she had to be a traditional wife. But she enjoys baking the most. Baking is what brings her the most joy, so she’s started baking again.”

Matthew nodded nonchalantly. “She can bake all kinds of stuff then?”

“Bread, sweet stuff…yeah, pretty much,” he said. “She actually…well, she’s trying to find a job where she can put it to good use, since she actually likes doing it.”

“Effie’s getting a job?!” Matthew exclaimed, louder than he intended. Levi could only chuckle. Matthew felt the need to cover. “Where? What—where? What’s she gonna do? How is she—I mean, why?”

“She’s gotta support herself, doesn’t she? If she wants to move out, or earn her own money—”

“Effie’s moving out?!”

“She’s not moving out tomorrow, Matthew, but she’s going to be moving out soon.”

This was all news to Matthew, of course. He tried to play it cool, calming himself down and not making a big deal out of it – well, more than he already had. The fact that Levi, Jenna, and Effie were discussing jobs and moving out had absolutely nothing to do with him. He was just on the outside. He didn’t need to be part of the decision making at all…at all. But he still got nervous. Effie was still learning about a lot. And ultimately, at the end of the day, he wanted her to be safe. A safe job. A safe apartment. “Where’s she looking?”

“There’s a cute little hipster coffee shop in the downtown core she has an interview with,” Levi informed him. “If she gets the job, and if she enrols in the online business certificate program Geneviève recommended to her, I promised to pay three months worth of rent until she can pay it on her own. She’d earn enough from minimum wage and tips for sure, especially downtown.”

Hipster coffee shop. Online business certificate. New apartment. There was so much new information coming at Matthew that he didn’t know how to process it all. He was happy for Effie – he was – and he wished her only the best, but it was still a lot. “Well…when you need help moving, call me and we could put these muscles to work,” he said, flexing his arm for dramatic effect, trying to hide the fact that he so obviously cared, and miserably failing to hide that fact to Levi.

Levi let out a haughty laugh. “I’ll be sure to mention it.”

***

Matthew downed a shot of tequila – the good tequila – and smashed his shot glass down on the bar as the smooth liquid coated his throat and made his stomach burn. Noah let out a loud ‘Wooooo!’ and Sean, ever the dumbass, choked on it as it went down. Matthew almost spit up the shot out of laughter watching Sean struggle to swallow it, picking up his glass of whisky the bartender had just poured. “You’re already wrecked, buddy,” Matthew chastised him as he got control of his coughs. “You’re embarrassing.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sean sneered. “We all know you’re trying to get all your alcohol in before Effie gets here.”

Matthew chuckled. “Fat chance of that happening. Effie’s not coming.”

Sean rolled his eyes. “Well, either I’m high or you’re wrong, because she just walked in the door.”

Matthew’s back stiffened as he whipped his head around to look through the crowd of people. Sure enough, he could see Effie raising her hand to chest level so the bouncer at the door could stamp her hand. Noah made a noise that sounded like a seagull and Sean let out a chuckle and a muffled “Dude owes me a fucking drink for that one”. Before Matthew’s legs could move him forward, he noticed Meredith approach Effie; she hugged her and Effie allowed Meredith to grab her hand so she could guide her through the crowd and into their spot at the back of the lounge. The music was loud and the floor felt like it was vibrating but it was nothing compared to the beat of Matthew’s heart.

Fuck.

When Meredith and Effie finally made their way through, he saw that Effie was wearing Jenna’s ballet flats, skinny jeans that were still a bit big, and a sequined top that fit so big any other girls in the club would have probably worn it as a dress. He could feel the whisky burning his stomach and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK.

“Effiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeee!!!!!” Claudia squealed once she noticed her, sauntering over to her in her high heels and bending down to hug her. “You made it! I’m sooooo happy!” she continued squealing. Matthew wondered if Effie noticed that Claudia was already drunk. “Is this your first time in a place like this?”

“Yeah,” Effie nodded her head nervously. “I’m sorry—I—I know I wasn’t supposed to be here and I said no, but—”

“Are you kidding? The more the merrier! Let me take you to Andrew so you can say happy birthday!”

Matthew watched as Claudia led her to Andrew, tapping him on the shoulder to reveal Effie. Andrew was happy to see her, and – knowing better than to go in for a hug – politely held his hand against his heart when she wished him a happy birthday. None of the guys on the team had ever touched her – well, except Matthew. He seemed to be the exception to a lot of things regarding Effie, and he was proud of that. He didn’t want anyone else touching her, even if they were his teammates.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

“You came alone?” Andrew asked her. Effie nodded. “We’ll have to find you Matthew then. He’d kill us if we didn’t tell him you were here.”

Matthew didn’t know what Andrew was saying – the music was too loud, and he couldn’t read lips – but the cement in his legs finally dissolved and he found himself walking over to them, wanting to make his presence known at that very moment. When Effie saw him, he could swear her face lit up. “Fancy seeing you here, Effie,” he smiled, holding his glass of whisky near his chest.

She went in for a hug.

Matthew was so shocked he almost didn’t hug her back. Even Andrew was looking at them like he’d just seen a monkey perform a magic trick. Matthew draped both arms around her and hugged her back, making sure not to spill his whisky all over her. He tried not to let it seem like he was shocked – hugs should be a normal thing for Effie, he thought – so when she pulled away, he was already smiling down at her. “What brought you here?”

“I wanted to see what these places are like,” she said when she pulled away. She took a look down at his drink. “Is that iced tea?”

“Whiskey.”

She looked around at everyone else, noticing they were all holding glasses with drinks in them too. “Is everybody drinking alcohol?”

“Pretty much,” Matthew giggled out.

“I’ve never drunk alcohol before,” she revealed.

“Do you want to try some?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m not ready.”

“That’s okay. Do you want something to drink, then? Some water? I’m sure the bar can make you a virgin drink if you ask for it.”

“A virgin drink?”

“Virgin means no alcohol,” Matthew covered quickly. “They’ll make you whatever you want.”

Matthew watched as Effie considered it, looking over to the bar before she shook her head. “I’m not thirsty yet. I’ll go when I’m thirsty.”

***

Effie didn’t dance. She didn’t drink. All she did was look.

By looking, she was learning. She watched how people interacted with one another in this type of setting and she internalized it. She watched girls approach the bar and get served by the bartender. She watched as guys flirted with them and bought them drinks. She watched people take shots and then ask for another. She watched people get handsy, with touches on hips and lower backs and arms the most popular spots she saw men putting their hands on women. She watched people drag one another towards the dance floor. She watched kisses being placed on necks and shoulders and lips, tongues dragging across, shocked that people would be doing so out in the open. She watched girls raise their drinks in the air and kick their leg up as they posed for photos with their friends. She watched girls move their hips seductively. She watched guys getting their bodies as close to them as possible.

“What are they doing?” she asked Matthew as she watched them dancing like a hawk.

“Uh…it’s called grinding.”

She’d talk, and ask questions, and Matthew was beside her the entire time answering her questions and milking his whisky, not caring that he wasn’t partying with Andrew or with the other boys, because when Effie was around, he was all about Effie – nobody else mattered. He’d stay with her until last call if she wanted to stay that late. He’d already resolved that he’d be going home when she was going home because he needed to make sure she got back to Aspen Woods safe, and also because there was no reason to be at the club when Effie was gone.

Did he hear himself? Did he really just say there was no reason to be at a club full of beautiful girls during his friend’s birthday?

Fuck.

Noah, Sean, and Johnny ended up coming back to the booth for some water. Johnny made eyes at Matthew and Matthew subtly gave him the finger; Effie didn’t notice because she was looking over at the bar. “I’m thirsty. I’m going to go get a drink.”

“Let me go for y—”

“No,” she said sternly as Matthew was about to get up, standing up herself and holding her hand out. “I’ve watched. I know what I need to do. I can go.”

Matthew gulped. He didn’t want to deny her independence but he didn’t want her to go alone. “Are you sure?” he asked. She nodded, and Matthew had to let her go. And all he did was look.

***

Effie approached the bar slowly, trying not to get shoved around by people crowding around the bar. It was much busier actually being in the crowd than just looking at it, and Effie was almost regretting her decision. She’s never been in a place with so many people. Well, that was a lie, maybe – church was always busy, obviously, especially the church for the People’s Dominion. Sundays were the worst. But there were definitely not this many young people congregated in one place. Effie knew this is what young people did in the normal world – Geneviève told her so. It was one thing to know about it, to be apart from it in a different area and watch; it was something completely different, actually being in it.

She made her way to right behind a few people at the bar – some scantily clad girls with some really pretty dresses on. Effie admired their beauty. They had beautiful long eyelashes and their lips were red and berry-coloured. Their skin was flawless and tanned – weird for April in Calgary, but tanned nonetheless. Effie wondered if they were wearing makeup, and wondered whether or not she’d ever wear makeup herself. When they got their drinks, they began to move. One of them noticed Effie behind them and gave her a quick up-down. “Take our place, sweetie,” she said, letting Effie move into their place before she watched them make their way through the crowd and back onto the dance floor.

After watching, she knew now she had to get the attention of one of the bartenders. Every single one of them was busy pouring drinks. She watched as a couple of men on the opposite end of the bar raised their hands and the bartenders went over to them, so she decided to do the same. After a few minutes, a bartender came. “What can I get you?”

“Um, water please.”

“You driving tonight, darling?”

Effie shook her head. “I don’t drive. I just don’t drink alcohol.”

“Do you want anything more exciting? I mean I can at least get you ginger ale or a coke.”

Effie didn’t like coke – she thought it was too sweet – but when he mentioned ginger ale, she reconsidered. “Okay. Ginger ale is good.”

The bartender nodded, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice before getting the drink gun. “Do you have a tab going?”

What was a tab? Effie shook her head. “What’s a tab?”

The bartender looked at her skeptically. “How are you paying, darling? Are you with a party?”

“Oh! I’m here for Andrew’s party! Andrew Mangiapane.”

“Got it,” the bartender winked. “Here you go, darling. Enjoy.”

Effie grabbed the drink and took a sip out of the straw. It was nice and cold, just the way she liked it. Just as she was about to leave and go back to Matthew, a big body slipped into the empty space beside her. A man – a very large man, it seemed, though she was so small that every man looked large to her – took up all the space. He was looking down at her with a very, very amused expression on his face. “Ginger ale, girl?” he mocked her.

Effie couldn’t tell. “What’s wrong with ginger ale?”

“You’re gonna come out to a bar looking like a walking felon and order ginger ale?” he pressed, winking at her.

“A walking felon?” she repeating. She didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

“Let me buy you a drink,” he said. “A real drink.”

“I don’t drink.”

“Wanna start?”

“No,” she said firmly.

“That’s fine. I can think of better things we can get up to than drinking, anyways,” he smiled.

Effie furrowed her brows. “Like what?”

The guy smiled, and it was creepy, and she finally saw behind his eyes every thought and every intention he currently had. “Let me show you,” he said, and Effie saw, out of the corner of her eye, that he was bringing his hand up to touch her. At the same time, he was leaning his head down.

“HEY!” a loud voice boomed, and Effie immediately recognized it as Matthew’s. Before she could even see him or realize where he was coming from, he squeezed his way in between him and the man. Matthew’s hands were now on her body instead, the man’s hand nowhere near her. “Get the fuck out of here, buddy.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“You touch her one more time and you’re fucking dead,” Matthew growled.

“Dead, eh? So you get to touch her but I don’t?”

“Fuck off.”

Effie was taken aback by the anger in Matthew’s voice. She’d never seen or heard him so angry. She knew he was capable of it, by how he played hockey, but she didn’t think he’d be able to get this angry in a social setting. Her body tensed up. “Can we go back to our booth?” Effie asked loudly, placing her hand on Matthew’s, hoping to get his attention.

Matthew looked back at her quickly, and when he saw the trepidation on her face, he immediately listened to her. As he turned to leave, pushing Effie ahead of him with his hands still on her waist guiding her, he heard the man make one last call out to Effie. “You don’t want to have some fun, girl? I can show you a better time than this dick with my dick!”

Matthew had had it. He knew he couldn’t punch out a guy in a bar. He knew he couldn’t do much without causing a scene and the cops getting called and everything getting out of hand. So instead, he used everything at his disposal to make his point, the most important thing being his size. He turned around and flexed, standing up straight and making himself as physically big as possible, bumping up against the guy on the chest and backing him up against the bar. He had only a few inches on the guy, but he was suddenly intimidated. “You even so much as breathe in her general direction and I won’t hesitate to knock your teeth down your throat,” Matthew growled, making fists with his hands. He didn’t even wait for the guy to say anything. Instead, he just turned and walked away, noticing Effie waiting for him in the crowd.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“It’s fine,” he said curtly, leading her out of the crowd and back to the booth.

“Are you sure, Matthew?”

“Positive,” he mumbled as they finally got to the booth.

Effie turned around to get a good look at him. She knew he was lying because she could see how angry he was on his face. She got nervous – really nervous. “Matthew—”

“Did he touch you? He didn’t touch you, did he?” Matthew demanded. He needed the answer to be no so he could calm down.

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

Everything in Matthew suddenly cleared. All he saw – all he was able to see – was Effie’s face, and how nervous she was, and how she was looking up at him with a certain tenseness. “Effie—no—I could never be mad at you. I’m mad at that guy for being gross.”

He noticed Effie furrow her brows slightly. “Was he trying to get me to have sex with him?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what he wanted. But he was being gross and the second I saw him wedge his way into the bar I got up.”

Effie nodded. “But you’re not mad at me, are you?” she asked again.

“Never, Effie. Never.”

***

Annica had never been more flabbergasted or without words than when Effie asked her to explain what Instagram was. Geneviève had to step in, giggling as she mixed together the baked feta pasta the girls were having for lunch. “It’s supposed to be a platform for sharing pictures,” Geneviève explained. “You know, like the book you’re reading, or where you’re going, if you go on vacation, or if you see something cool, or let’s say you go out to eat and you want to show what you’re eating…that sort of thing.”

“People want to know that stuff?” Effie asked innocently, causing the girls to giggle. “People want to know that about me?”

“I’d love to follow you on Instagram. I’d love to see how you see the world,” Geneviève said. “It would be a breath of fresh air, to be honest.”

“How would it be a breath of fresh air if everybody is doing it?” Effie asked again.

“Everybody’s not doing it. That’s the point,” Annica said. “Instagram has transformed into this, like…God, I don’t even know what to call it. It’s one big advertisement now.”

Effie considered what the girls were telling her. She trusted them both, which is why she asked. Annica talked about it a lot, and was on it a lot, which is why Effie became interested in it in the first place. Geneviève was on it too, of course, running her own account and also having access to the account for her literary magazine Atomic (she’d given Effie a bunch of old copies to read through, and she was going to devour them right after she finished Geneviève’s book, which was technically a collection of essays). For a girl who just wanted to be as normal as possible, it seemed to her like Instagram was the logical next step. “Can…can you guys help me make a profile?”

“Of course,” Annica said as all three of them sat down at the table. “We can do it after lunch.”

“I’m not your therapist, but you should use it to chronicle your journey and what you’re doing outside of the cult now,” Geneviève offered. “That’s what I meant when I said I’d love to see how you see the world. You can post all the things you’ve been baking recently, or the pretty things you see in Calgary when you’re out and about on one of your walks.”

The second that Geneviève mentioned ‘chronicle your journey’, it was like a switch went off in Effie’s brain. She nodded her head. “That’s what I’m gonna do. Let’s make a profile after lunch.”

***

FOLLOW REQUEST: effieschaffer7

You have accepted effieschaffer7’s friend request.

Effie?????

Hi Matthew

U made an insta?

Is it okay if I follow you? Annica helped me

Yes of course it’s okay if u follow me

I am going to post my baking I think

That’s good! I will have to try some one day

When you get back from the road trip there will be something new. Levi requested a lemon meringue pie and you can have some too if you want.

I’m gonna make sure Levi drives us home then

***

It was Effie who swung the door open excitedly. Matthew was excited to try the lemon meringue pie, but apparently she was excited about something else. Her eyes were as wide as the moon and as bright as the sun. “I got the job!” she screamed.

Levi dropped his bag as he screamed, catching her as she jumped from the doorway into his arms. Matthew started cheering too and started clapping; it was only then that Effie even remembered he was standing there, but he really didn’t mind. “Congratulations, Effie!” he smiled from ear to ear. “Look at you go!”

She let go of her brother, but still held on to his arms. “That means I can get the apartment! That means I can pay for the tuition for the business program! That means…I…I’m just so excited!” She looked over at Matthew, seeing his smile, and did the unexpected.

She hugged him. She jumped into his arms just like she did with her brother and wrapped her arms around him tightly. He reciprocated easily, wrapping his own arms around her too. “That’s amazing, Effie!”

“I just—aaaahhhhheeeeeppppp!” she half yelled-half squealed, letting go of Matthew so they could get back inside. April in Calgary was still cold. Both Matthew and Levi set their bags down at the front door and walked straight to the kitchen, following Effie who was practically kicking her heels up. “I can’t even speak! I mean, this is—this is me getting to work! I get to work! I get to make my own living and make my own money!”

“You should be really proud of yourself,” Matthew said as he sat down on one of the kitchen stools. “And you get to do something you like to do! Not a lot of people get to say that.”

She nodded enthusiastically, opening the fridge. “Here, try this,” she said, taking out the lemon meringue pie she had promised them. “The owner of the coffee shop said I’m going to start with cookies and brownies and small stuff like that, and then maybe I can expand,” she said.

She cut the pie, plated it for her brother and Matthew, and handing them forks. Matthew dug in automatically, shoving a giant piece in his mouth. The second it hit his tongue, he groaned. “Oh…oh Effie…” he said in between chews. “This is gonna be dangerous.”

“Is it good?”

“You may need to bake me something every day, now, Effie. Either that or I’m gonna come visit you every day.”

***

“Piiiiiiivvvooottttt!!!!!”

“If you say that one more time, I’m gonna kill you,” Matthew screamed at Sean holding the other end of the couch at the bottom of the stairs.

“Piiiiiiiiivvv—”

“Monahan!”

“Is everything okay, boys?” Effie’s sweet voice asked from the top of the stairs, popping her head out of her brand new apartment.

“We’re fine!” Matthew called out, not wanting her to worry. “Monahan is just being a jackass!”

“Am not!”

They got the couch upstairs. They got the bedframe upstairs. They got the mattress upstairs. In a little one-bedroom apartment above a storefront on 8th Avenue SW in downtown Calgary, Effie Schaffer was moving in. Well, Effie was in her apartment unpacking boxes and organizing everything. Levi, Matthew, Sean, and Jacob were helping move in her furniture. She was going to thank them gracefully with another pie – this time, she’d experimented with a banana cream pie with salty bourbon caramel. It was in the fridge waiting. Each of them would get a nice big slice.

Geneviève came over for a bit, helping Effie with organizing the kitchen. And Jenna dropped by after work, making sure everything was in order. Jacob and his piece of pie left with Geneviève, and Levi and his piece of pie left once he knew everything was in order, and Sean and his piece of pie left after he and Matthew had finished putting the couch together. Matthew hadn’t left with his piece of pie yet. Matthew stayed.

“This apartment is so great for you, Effie,” he said as he sat down on the couch, admittedly exhausted from all the hauling but despite that, still not wanting to leave. There was so much to do and say and admire with Effie now that people weren’t around, and though he’d never admit it out loud to them, he always wanted to be alone with her. It was different when he was alone with her. With other people around, he couldn’t stare at her too long without being caught, or they couldn’t talk about things from their previous conversations that only they knew about. With people gone, they could. He’d stay until Effie told him to go home; if she would even tell him to go home. He was unsure if she knew she could tell people to leave because she was tired or just wanted to be alone.

“Tomorrow Levi and I are going to go to the mall to get me a laptop for school,” she said, opening her fridge. “My course starts in June. It’s going to be really exciting.”

“That’s great,” he said, looking at her from the couch. “It’s business, right?”

She nodded her head enthusiastically. “Business administration. Are you going to come try this pie or what?”

Matthew hauled his sore body off the couch and made his way towards the kitchen, standing next to Effie as she sliced a piece of the pie for him. He reached over her head and grabbed two plates from the cupboard, setting them down. Their bodies were close – purposely, he had to admit selfishly, on his part – so that every time she turned the pie and made a slice, her arm and elbow would touch him. He watched as she carefully plated the slices.

Before she moved to grab the forks, she looked up at Matthew. “Can I try something?” she asked timidly.

He furrowed his brows slightly. “Of course.”

Effie hesitated, looking Matthew in the eye, wondering if she should really go through with what’s been on her mind since Andrew’s birthday party. She resolved with herself to never let fear get in the way of her making a decision in her new life, especially now that she was free to make those decisions. So she did it. She did what she wanted to do.

Effie Schaffer stood on her tip-toes and kissed Matthew Tkachuk.

It was light, chaste, and pure; no tongue, no longer than three seconds, and no warning. But she kissed him. With her eyes closed. And for the first time in a long, long, long time, when she closed her eyes and kissed someone her body didn’t seize up. When she closed her eyes and kissed him, she didn’t think of the other kisses she had to endure rather than enjoy. When she closed her eyes and kissed him, she didn’t see Abraham. Matthew’s lips were much softer; there was nothing about him like was like Abraham, not one atom on his body. She liked it that way. And the fact that she didn’t remember her past life when it happened made it all the better for her.

Matthew, for his part, was shocked. Shocked that she, Effie Schaffer, who grew up abused in a cult and didn’t start wearing pants until just a few months ago, would do something so forward. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it to happen, because he did, against all of his better judgement and the rational side of his brain telling him not to. “Was that okay for you?” he asked softly.

Effie nodded. “Of course it was. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think it would be okay for me.”

Matthew’s word vomit got the best of him. “Do you think it—”

“Don’t talk to me like you’re my therapist please,” she said quickly. “Talk to me like you’re a guy.”

“Sorry,” he apologized quickly.

Effie looked down, suddenly nervous. She wasn’t second-guessing her decision to kiss him, but what she was doing now was wondering what Matthew thought of it. He’d kissed her back. He didn’t just stand there and take the kiss – he kissed her back. He moved his lips too. That meant something, right? “Matthew?” she finally asked, her voice soft.

“Hmm?”

“Do you like me?” she asked.

“Of course I like you, Effie.”

“No, I mean do you…do you like me. Like how boys like girls sometimes.”

Matthew looked her in the eye, his entire ego dropping to the pits of his stomach. Having the completely inability to be able to lie to her, he gave her a quick nod of the head. “Yeah, I do.”

Effie bit her bottom lip. She didn’t know a lot, but she knew this was a huge moment. But she swallowed hard, her thoughts getting the best of her. “Even after everything that happened to me?”

Matthew’s heart broke. It always did when he spoke with Effie. “Of course,” he said simply. “You’re not what happened to you. You’re so much more than that, Effie.”

Effie nodded her head. She knew that. Dr. Barlow, Levi, Jenna, Geneviève – everyone important in her life had been telling her that. She knew it was true, but she needed to hear the words from Matthew. She couldn’t just assume them. “I want to let you know that was the first time in my life that I’ve initiated…physical contact with a man,” she said quietly, her voice just above a whisper. “I did it…I did it with you because I feel comfortable with you. I wouldn’t have even thought about doing that a year ago but…but you’ve really helped me these past few months, and you make me feel so comfortable to try new things like corn dogs or kissing. Even just…you know, touching. I just want you to know that.”

Matthew nodded. This was huge. He was pretty sure he hadn’t let out a breath since her lips met his. “I hope you always feel comfortable around me.”

“I think I will,” she said, smiling slightly.

Matthew smiled. “Well, in that case, can I kiss you again?”

“No.”

Matthew chuckled to himself. Her deadpan delivery dissolved everything. She was in total control. “Fair enough.”

Effie moved to grab the forks from the drawer she was standing in front of. Before she put them on the plates, she looked up at him again. “But if I kissed you again, would you like it?”

Matthew nodded his head. “Would you?”

Effie nodded her head.

***

“What about this?” Matthew asked, pointing to a fake plant hanging from a little black pot. “Everybody loves fake plants.”

Ikea had a lot of options – too many, if Effie was being honest. But she nodded her head, and Matthew took the initiative to grab the plant and put it in the cart. There were a bunch of frames already in there, and some decorative stuff for her new place. “Matthew?” she looked up at him.

“Hmm?” he looked down.

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

“I’ve got an Americano with room for milk for Matthew!” the barista called out, setting the drink down on the counter. Matthew approached to grab his drink, bringing it to the other station where he was able to pour in his milk and two packs of brown sugar before popping the lid on. He rejoined Effie.

“Does it feel like you’re cheating when I bring you to Starbucks?” he asked her in a light-hearted tone.

“Matthew?” she looked up at him.

“Hmm?” he was already looking down.

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

“I think these are your best ones yet,” Matthew said through a mouth full of chocolate-dipped almond biscotti. Effie was trying out recipes. He was her unofficial-official taste-tester. The whole team was, really. And if they sold well in the coffee shop, the manager would allow her to expand. So far, so good. “I love the almond flavour. It’s there but it’s not too strong, you know?”

He watched as Effie nodded her head. “Matthew?” she asked, looking at him eye-to-eye since he was sitting down on one of the stools in her kitchen.

He knew what was coming.

She leaned forward and kissed him. His lips tasted like almonds.

***

“Are you excited for the movie?” Matthew asked as he poured the popcorn from the steaming hot bag into the bowls Effie got for them.

“Very,” she nodded. Tonight they’d be watching Emma, the 2020 movie version of Jane Austen’s classic. Effie liked to see all the amazing clothes the women used to wear. A part of her wanted to dress up like that now, but she knew she’d get stared at. The other part of her never wanted to wear a dress again if she didn’t have to. “Matthew?” she asked.

“Hmm?” he looked down at her. He knew what was coming.

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

It was always when the two of them were alone. It never happened when she would wait for him and Levi and Jacob with Jenna and Geneviève after games. It never happened if they were ever out with a big group, or even just with Levi and Jenna. Matthew was sure Effie had told them she was kissing him – she probably told Dr. Barlow too, now that he thought about it – but nobody had ever approached him about it. “I heard you’ve been kissing Effie.”

It was always the same, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. They were alone. They were usually doing something mundane. Then Effie would ask “Matthew?” in her soft, sweet voice. He’d look down at her. She’d go on her tip-toes, and she’d kiss him.

It was always initiated by her.

***

“Can I take you out on a date?” Matthew asked one day when they were alone in her apartment.

Effie looked shocked. Surprised, even, though Matthew didn’t think the question was out of the ordinary. “You…you want to go out on a date with me?” she asked.

“Yes, of course I do,” Matthew said, wanting there to be no doubts in her mind. “You know that I like you, Effie. I think it’s something that could be really fun for you…for us.”

Effie was deep in thought – Matthew could tell. She nodded slightly. “We have been doing a lot of kissing lately…” she mused. He couldn’t help but smile, even though it faded slightly when she looked up at him nervously. “Matthew, I—I’ve never been on a date before.”

“I figured as much.”

“I mean, I—even with Abraham. He never—I mean, I was just told I was marrying him because he wanted me. I told you that. But even before that. Women couldn’t date. Nobody could—I mean most couples were just thrust together, but—but—women weren’t even allowed in the same room alone with the opposite sex because we’d tempt them.”

“I know Effie, it’s okay,” he said softly. “Listen, if you’re scared or nervous or not ready, we don’t have to. But you know that I like you. And I know you like me too. It’s what people do when they like each other. So if you’ll let me, we could go out for dinner or something. Nothing too big or fancy. Just a dinner.”

If she went on a date with Matthew, Effie would be giving a giant middle finger to her past. She would be asserting her agency in making her own choices. She’d be doing something she wasn’t allowed to do for eighteen years of her life. It was an action of justice at its very core – going on a date with a boy because she liked him and found him attractive. She wasn’t even allowed to touch other men besides her husband less than two years ago because of his abusive and totalitarian “sermons”. She remembered back to her begging to her mother not to get married at fourteen and her mother refusing to listen to her. Here was Matthew saying “If you’re scared or nervous or not ready, we don’t have to.”

Effie nodded her head. “I want to go out on a date with you.”

Matthew smiled bashfully. He was sure his cheeks were going to turn red like some sort of teenager. “What kind of food d’you wanna eat?”

***

“How’d you get that shiner, buddy?” Sean asked.

“I’m not gonna talk about it,” Matthew mumbled.

***

“What the hell happened to you?” Johnny asked the moment he saw him in the locker room.

“I’m not gonna talk about it,” Matthew mumbled.

***

Mark Giordano was not happy to see one of his star players show up to the arena with a black eye. But he didn’t want to confront Matthew in a full locker room, so he waited until there was only a few people around – and even then, they were far away enough that he knew they wouldn’t really pick up on the conversation. “What the fuck happened to your eye?” Mark asked, approaching Matthew

“I’m not gonna talk about it,” Matthew mumbled, not even looking at his captain.

Mark furrowed his eyebrows. There had to be something, a clue of some sort, to help him get to the bottom of this. It was nobody’s birthday, so Matthew hadn’t gone out to a bar. He didn’t get into a fight or scuffle on the ice that was too bad, so it couldn’t have been that either. But then Mark remembered. “I thought you spent time with Effie last ni—”

“I said I’m not gonna talk about it!” Matthew hissed as he got up abruptly, stomping away and leaving the room.

Mark took a deep breath in, putting his hands on his hips. Kids. He had to get to the bottom of this. It was in his nature. And as captain, he took his role seriously. He needed to make sure his teammates were okay. The media was definitely going to pick up on the black eye, and they’d need a good cover. He left the locker room, following the path Matthew took, knowing he was probably letting off some steam in an empty trainer’s room. Mark popped his head into two of them before finding Matthew in a third, facing away from the door and taping his stick. Mark knew Matthew heard him walk in and shut the door behind him, but Matthew didn’t turn around.

“Sit,” Mark said sternly.

Matthew took a deep breath in but did as he was told. He wasn’t going to defy Mark – he respected him way too much. And he knew he had out let out the steam by telling someone, and Mark was probably the best person to tell.

Mark sat down casually beside him, hunched over with his elbows on his knees so it looked like they were about to have a casual conversation, just in case anyone else barged in. “Tell me what happened.”

Matthew took a deep breath. “I took her out on a date last night.”

“Effie.”

“Yeah,” Matthew nodded slightly. “And it was nice. We went to a really nice Italian restaurant downtown. She was having so much fun. And she came back to my place and—”

“Please don’t tell me—”

“No no—it wasn’t—no,” he emphasized. “I might be an idiot but I’m not that much of an idiot.”

“You can’t fault me for thinking it.”

Matthew shook his head. “She came back to my place and I guess—well, I guess because the whole thing was so new for her, it was mentally exhausting. She sorta kept saying how tired she was. I told her she could stay over. And it was fine. We were just sleeping in the same bed.”

“And then?”

Matthew grumbled. “And then I moved.”

There was a pause. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

***

“I’m so sorry,” Effie whispered through tears, looking at Matthew’s back as he sat on the edge of the bed, pressing a bag of frozen peas against his face.

The entire night had been lovely. She’d felt so good, and so comfortable, and so normal. The food was delicious. The walk through the park was magical. The thing’s they’d talked about ran through her mind the entire night. They hadn’t stopped talking. They’d gone back to his place. She was tired. He suggested she stay over, knowing Levi wouldn’t mind. She agreed. She borrowed an old t-shirt and shorts. They’d fallen asleep in his bed. And it was lovely.

And then at some point, in the middle of the night, with Effie’s back facing Matthew as he switched positions in his sleep, all she felt was a body pressing up against her slightly. So she did the only thing she needed to do.

She punched him. Hard.

She hit between his eye and nose. A loud “FUCK!” escaped him after the sound of skin hitting skin permeated through his bedroom. Her body seized up and, like countless times before, she jumped out of bed. When she turned around to look down at the bed, Matthew was clutching his eye in pain. It was then that she realized just that – it was Matthew. It wasn’t Abraham.

“M—M—Matthew,” she stuttered out.

“What the fuck, Effie?!” his temper got the best of him.

“M—Matthew—I—I thought—Abraham—I thought you were Abraham—”

With his one clear eye, he looked at her. His chest was heaving. But he didn’t say anything. His shoulders slumped slightly. And without saying anything, he got up out of the bed and walked out of the room.

Effie immediately dropped to her knees on the bed. It’s what she would have done before, to ask for forgiveness for denying her husband satisfaction whenever and wherever he wanted it. But now, in the new world, in her new world, it wasn’t like that. She didn’t have to repent for her sin. It didn’t have to be that way. Abraham wasn’t in bed with her. It was Matthew. Sweet, soft, rough around the edges Matthew.

She started crying. She couldn’t believe that she’d just done that to him. She cried so hard she didn’t even realize he’d come back into the room quietly, with a bag of peas pressed against his face where she’d punched him.

After she apologized, and he said nothing, she crawled over to him, the last of her tears spilling over her cheeks. She lay her hand on his back. “Matthew—”

He flinched at her touch. She recoiled her hand back so quickly she didn’t know she could move that fast. Her heart tightened in her chest, knowing she’d just caused him – and was continuing to cause him – such physical pain, when all he’d given her over the last few months was patience and support.

Matthew heard her sharp intake of breath when he flinched. He didn’t mean to flinch – really – he just didn’t expect her to touch him after she’d just punched his face for brushing up against her. He took a few deep breaths to control his emotions before he looked behind him, seeing her tear-stained face looking at him.

When he saw the lingering fear in her eyes, he couldn’t be angry.

***

Matthew played his hockey game, and he managed to score a goal and record an assist, but after the game, his mind was somewhere else. Effie hadn’t shown up to the game; she wasn’t waiting with Jenna and Geneviève, and Jenna told him she was tired from work which is why she stayed home. He needed to talk to her. Needed to talk to her. But he didn’t know how, and he didn’t know what to do.

Jacob, Geneviève, Levi, and Jenna all left early, leaving him to go home alone. He trudged down the hallway and took the elevator to the parking garage, his feet dragging on the concrete and he walked with his head down, a storm forming in his mind about what he was going to do.

“Matthew?” he heard a soft voice.

He shot his head up. For a second he thought he was hallucinating, or some sort of mirage, but no – Effie was in the parking garage, standing right next to his car. He had no idea how she got in but at this point he didn’t really care. All he cared about was that she was there. He rushed over to her as quickly as his legs would take him. “You’re here,” he said, once he got close to her. Her face was red and blotchy. He hated seeing it like that. It reminded him of the incident in the washroom. “What’s going on?”

“I spent the whole day crying thinking about what I did to you,” she said, her voice sounding like she was on the verge of tears again.

“Effie, I told you it was alri—”

“It’s not alright, Matthew,” she asserted. He’d said it all last night while she was profusely apologizing, but she didn’t believe him. He’d said it up until she was picked up by a taxi to be taken back to her place. He’d begged her to stay. She couldn’t see how she could when she’d just punched him in the face. “I wish you would stop saying that. I hit you. I gave you a black eye. Nothing about that is alright—”

“Effie—”

“I just—I thought you were Abraham because he’d do that a lot and—because I would always try to say no otherwise, and so he had to get me at a point where—”

“EFFIE,” he said loudly, over her frantic voice, and she stopped immediately. They stared at each other for a few moments in pure silence before Effie could feel Matthew’s hands grab hers. He pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her tightly, and she nestled her face into his chest and inhaled his scent. A wave of peace flowed throughout her body. He hadn’t asked to touch her, but at the same time, she hadn’t flinched. His touch was so…so pure and so soft – so unlike anything else she’d felt before – that there was no reason to flinch or be scared. His hands wouldn’t hurt her like other hands had. She realized this, inhaling his scent one more time. He wouldn’t hurt her.

When he released the hug, she brought her own hands up to cradle his face. His facial hair was a bit rough against her skin, but it was still the softest she’d ever felt on a man. Maybe it was because he always gave her butterflies. Maybe it was something else. “You’re so soft, Matthew…” her voice was barely above a whisper.

“What’s that mean?” he asked, his voice equally as low. “I’m not soft.”

“Yes, you are. You are for me,” she clarified. “You’re the softest man I’ve ever felt. I don’t want that to change.”

He realized what she meant now. It hit him like a ton of bricks, like most things did with Effie. “It won’t,” he asserted. “You can count on me.”

“I know I can,” she nodded her head.

Matthew couldn’t take it anymore. They couldn’t continue this in the parking garage. “Can I take you back to my place again and we can talk? Properly?”

Effie nodded her head.

***

Matthew let Effie roam in his kitchen while he changed out of his suit into some comfier clothes. When he emerged from his room, Effie was sitting on his couch – just like she had been last night – a glass of water in her hand, sipping from it delicately. He knew she’d end up back on his couch since she had commented last night how big and comfy it was. Matthew didn’t even know where it was from – it came with the apartment. But ever since she’d sat on it and made the comment, he found it comfier.

He walked over to her slowly, and she watched him, not saying a word. Instead of taking a seat beside her, he knelt in front of her, between her legs. He was still almost at eye level with her. Boldly, he took the glass of water out of her hand and set it down on the coffee table. He grabbed her hands in his and rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumb tenderly. “Can I ask you a question?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“What happened that night? After you punched Abraham?”

Effie was silent for a moment. “I…I—I got pregnant.”

The words stabbed Matthew in the heart. He squeezed her hands to let go of some pain, and she squeezed back. “I’m so sorry for what I did, Effie—”

“You have nothing to apologize about,” she said. “You did nothing wrong.”

“But I scared you. And I promised I’d never do that. And it brought up bad memories…”

Effie was shaking her head. “You didn’t scare me. My mind did. My mind thought you were Abraham. But you’re the farthest thing from him, Matthew, and you need to know that. You don’t scare me at all. Not even a bit. Not like Abraham scared me.”

Matthew bit his tongue so he could feel some pain and keep himself from crying. To think about how she was so scared for eighteen years of her life, and now she wasn’t, and part of that was because he was around, helping her feel comfortable…he couldn’t have asked for anything more. He knew he shouldn’t feel guilty for what happened, especially since Effie was telling him what she was telling him, but he knew he would for a while. It’d take him a while to get over it. “When we went on the date…did you—I mean, did you just do it because you felt like you had to? Because you had to experience a first date to be normal or whatever? Or did you actually want to?” he asked.

“I actually wanted to,” she said without hesitation. Matthew could feel his heart beating in his chest. “I wanted to, and with you. Not with another guy and not with, like, Sean or whatever,” she said, and it made Matthew break out into a smirk. “It was you. And even though…I mean—I mean I think we could…and we would…” she tried to formulate her thought into coherent words.

“But I don’t know if we should,” he finished her sentence.

Effie nodded. “At least not yet. I’m not—I’m not mentally there yet. I’m not ready. And it wouldn’t be fair to bring you along so closely with something I know I’m not ready for. There’s so much I still need to learn…about, well…everything.”

Matthew nodded his head. He understood completely. “You know that I never expected anything, right?” he asked.

“Oh, of course not,” she said like it was the obscenest idea in the world. She knew Matthew would never expect that of her. “I think what’ll be good is you going home during the summer, and me starting my course in June…and by the time you come back in September, you might even see a brand new me.”

Matthew couldn’t help but smile at that. He rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumbs again. “You’re already a brand new person, Effie. When I come back you’ll just be wiser. Do you promise to message me on Instagram about everything you learn and the stuff you experience?”

Effie nodded her head, a smile adorning her face now. “Matthew?” she asked after a moment of silence.

This time, he looked up at her. He knew what was coming.

This time, she didn’t need to stand on her tip-toes. All she had to do was lean forward and kiss him.

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strawwritesfic · 4 years ago

Text

Loki Laufeyson x Female!Midgardian!Reader: A Bird in the Hand

Summary: …is surely not worth its asking price.

Rating/Warnings/Tags: All (some foul language; not Thor Ragnarok compliant)

Fic Trade Prompt: “Please, I don’t want to lose you, too.”

A Bird in the Hand

Once upon a time in a realm known as Midgard, there lived a girl. This girl, of course, was you, and you lived as many young women at the time did during that Age of Miracles. None of these miracles ever happened to you. There were no fish oil transformations on your horizon, nor were there any divine calls to adventure. Just like all New Yorkers, you grew use to your daily commute being interrupted by superheroes, to calling insurance companies to argue over their decision to not pay for alien invasion damage to your apartment, and even to carrying an umbrella around with you even on the driest of days in case certain Asgardians decided to visit. Life went on. You had stopped looking for a real miracle years ago.

As well you should have, because there was nothing miraculous about your wedding day. Outside, a seemingly endless mass of dark gray clouds let loose bucket after bucket of rain. Thunder rolled across the sky; lightning flashed–and that, really, was all you could see through the window you had stationed yourself in front of to sulk. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have blamed the city’s resident thunder god for the disastrous timing of this storm front. As it was, all you could blame was your string of bad luck.

Speaking of bad luck, the door to your parlor snapped open and in stepped the dripping figure of your best friend. Aliyah paused only long enough to adjust her sodden pink hijab before plopping soggily onto an overstuffed loveseat.

“Well, the gazebo is flooded,” she announced, “the food is soaked through, and the caterer won’t bring more to replace it. Your flower arrangements are in pieces, and the band already ran off. I don’t think there’s anything left of your wedding ceremony.”

You did not bother to leave the window, though you did turn just far enough to throw her a sour look. “Do you have any good news to impart?” you asked.

Aliyah grinned. “Your maid of honor hasn’t walked out yet. At least there will be one person here to witness this fiasco.”

“Gonna need a groom for anything to be witnessed.”

Most close friends would offer sympathy when their friend’s fiancé of a year and a half decided to just not show up for the actual wedding. Most acquaintances would feel bad enough when the carefully planned event got rained out. Not your Aliyah. She simply let out a sharp breath and leaned her head back against the couch cushion.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said.

You glared at her, which of course she didn’t see, having shut her eyes to listen to the water tumble from the roof to the street outside.

“Thank you. So much,” you said.

“What?” she asked, forcing her eyes open again. “I told you Jared wasn’t good enough for you. Besides, you should keep all the gifts even if he doesn’t stop by. I saw, like, nine blenders in that pile. You’re better off this way, if you ask me.”

“You’re just saying that because you want a free blender,” you said.

“I wouldn’t say no. But, really, you should count your lucky stars. Free stuff and free of your jackass boyfriend. What better start to a weekend?”

“I’d rather be married to my jackass boyfriend.”

Aliyah’s disdain for Jared was nothing new or surprising. He’d fallen from grace in her eyes when he’d got jealous over your fondness for an injured pigeon you’d rescued only a few months after you started dating Jared. Even releasing the bird hadn’t entirely put an end to his complaints about how you spent your free time. On the other hand, you knew one thing that neither Aliyah nor Jared did: Jared’s jealousy wasn’t entirely misplaced.

But that was years ago. This was now. And that bird had always been bad news.

“Are you going to cry about it?” Aliyah asked, peering over at your perch by the parlor’s bay window. “Because, if not, I’d hate to have dragged Habib all the way to America for nothing.”

At the mention of her long-distance boyfriend, you motioned for Aliyah to go on. You preferred to do your moping alone, and Aliyah knew it. She stood and crossed the room to give you a quick hug before she left without another word. Probably you did owe your maid of honor at a least a blender for all the trouble she’d been through on your behalf.

Sighing, you lifted one hand, dug your fingers into your hair, and tore out what was holding it in its elaborate design. Who cared what you looked like now? Even if stupid Jared had shown up, the storm would have ruined your appearance before you made it down the aisle. Now Aliyah had free rein to spend the rest of her afternoon cuddling with Habib, and you had no one else to bother looking pretty for.

Outside your empty room, you could hear the indistinct muttering of your remaining guests. Family, mostly, who had already given up trying to convince you to let them in. What the rest of them were waiting for before they left, you couldn’t guess. Perhaps for you to come out and make an official announcement: The wedding has been called off. Party’s over. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. And thanks for all the blenders.

The shame of your situation suddenly threatened to crash down upon you. It would have, if you had remained sitting where you were. Instead, you got up, white dress rustling as you stalked across the room. A quiet shriek of rage was stifled only by your gloved hand pressed to your colored lips. Of all the pathetic, idiotic, insane things you had done in your life! Now you didn’t even have the courage to face your friends and family with the truth.

“Tap. Tap. Tap.”

Hail began to hit the glass behind you, soft and hesitant. Since you had no plans to leave the building any time soon, you ignored this weather development.

Jared hadn’t even called to say he’d changed his mind. You should have known when he hadn’t come home after his stag party the night before. He was probably laughing it up over your stupidity with some blonde bikini babe by the beach that you were supposed to go to for your honeymoon. The thought caused you to kick out angrily at the coffee table, and you heard a quiet rip issue from your skirt in response when it caught on a corner.

You swore.

”Tap. Tap. Tap.”

Now that you thought about it, the sound wasn’t regular enough to be hail. It wasn’t very hesitant anymore either. Still, you ignored the noise as you yanked off your veil, your gloves, and your garter. You were mentally preparing to rip them all to shreds with your fingernails when you heard it again:

“Tap. Tap. Tap.”

That time you did not suppress your shriek. As it faded into the overstuffed furniture surrounding you, you marched over to the window and shoved it open. The wind whistled through the empty space, sending anything in the room not tied down into the air and splattering your face with water. If ever there was a time to reasonably expect an Asgardian thunder god to step inside, it was then. No one was there, though, save for a single bedraggled pigeon.

“Oh, hello,” you said when it hopped onto the sill, and automatically you held out your cupped hands toward it.

The poor thing shivered once, then stepped onto your warm palms. Only when it looked up into your face did you see that it had bright green, very un-pigeon-ish eyes.

Before you could stuff the bird back outside, it lifted itself into the air to half-flutter, half-fly over to the loveseat Aliyah had been sitting on. A flash of light that had nothing to do with the lightning outside filled the room. When you had blinked and cleared your vision enough that you could see again, the pigeon was gone, and in its place reclined a tall, dark-haired, beautiful man, dressed to the nines in Asgardian fashion.

“Hello, darling,” said Loki Laufeyson. “Don’t you look ravishing?”

You were too shocked to contradict him. No mention of your torn dress, mussed hair, or smeared makeup escaped your lips. Instead, you said the only thing you could in that sort of situation: “What are you doing here?”

“Why, I’m here to offer you my congratulations, of course,” he answered, examining one perfectly manicured nail. “Or should it be my condolences?”

“Really?” Your tone dripped with enough sarcasm that it could be heard over the protesting window as you forced it shut. “You disappear for two years, never write, never visit, and then you just happen to pop by to celebrate my wedding to another man?”

“What kind of secret lover would I be if I did not?”

“We are not secret lovers.”

“Well, no, we haven’t been for quite some time. I see no reason why that should stop us from picking up right where we left off, however.”

“We were never secret lovers.”

“Really?” he said, mocking the tone of your earlier question. “That’s not what it seemed like to me. Of course, I had the brain of a pigeon most of the time, but at night when your beau had to work and leave you so very alone–”

“You can’t just show up out of the blue and expect me to want you again,” you interrupted. “And on my wedding day to boot.”

To his credit, Loki looked genuinely confused by your behavior–like he’d expected you to jump straight into his arms, marriage or no. Obviously, they did things differently in Asgard. You were not Asgardian.

“Fine,” he said. “If that’s the way you want it. I was only trying to thank you for helping me, you know.”

“All I did was take in a pigeon that got injured when Thor threw a bunch of peanuts at a flock. It didn’t really deserve that sort of thanking.”

“Ah, but you enjoyed it anyway.” That wasn’t the point. He knew it wasn’t the point just as well as you did, because once he made it, he got fluidly up to his feet to and walked over to stand in front of you. “If you are that disinclined to see me, I suppose I had better get going. If you ever grow tired of being lonely again–oh, that’s right. You don’t know how to contact me.”

You opened your mouth to remind Loki that you didn’t want to contact him, but then something about Loki’s words rang strange.

“Alone?” you echoed.

“Yes, alone. Or do you expect your Prince Charming to come riding up on a horse of white any second now? Better late than never?”

Without thinking, without warning, you slapped him straight across the face.

“Ow!” he snapped, pressing one of his hands to the mark on his face. “What was that for?”

“What did you do?” You lifted your hand for another blow. “What did you do to Jared?”

“Me? Do something to Jared? What should I have to do with that ponderous ass?”

“Did you kill him, Loki?” you asked, voice quavering. Loki could do it. Easily. He was a god, and Jared just…well, just a ponderous ass.

Loki let out a single bark of laughter. “Oh, please. I just got out of Asgardian prison. As if I’d risk going back over the murder of a petty moral such as he.”

That brought you up short. Frowning, you deigned to look at him again. “Prison?”

“Yes, prison. Did you think my absence was due to taking a pleasure cruise?”

“I thought you’d escaped prison when I found you the first time.”

“But you sent me back to Asgard when I started causing trouble,“ he reminded you. "Odin does not forget his son’s crimes easily, nor is he inclined to forgive them. Luckily my brother is far easier to manipulate.”

He had not, you noticed, made any real move to leave. Loki still stood in front of you, looking down as the pink handprint faded from his cheek.

“So…you didn’t kill my fiancé?” you asked uncertainly.

He shook his head. “If he isn’t here, it is because he is a dunce, not because I tricked him in any way.”

“Oh.” All the problems of your appearance seemed at once apparent and embarrassing. To think that this man would see you in such a state, and only because he’d wanted to see you after his release from jail. “Why did you really come, then? Since you knew he wasn’t here. To gloat?”

“The thought did occur to me,” Loki confessed. “I am not often in the position of being the more desirable choice. But,” here his voice turned oddly sincere, “I actually came to ask you to come with me.”

Your mouth fell open. Some of Loki’s usual acerbic amusement returned as he watched you flounder; you could see the faint outlines of his familiar smirk at the corners of his mouth. Finally, you managed a short, “go with you where?”

He shrugged, and started to twist the curtain in between his long, pale fingers. “I don’t know, really.”

“You want me to go somewhere with you without anywhere in mind?”

“I thought we’d figure it out as we went along,” he said. “Travel the galaxies. I cannot return to Asgard and Midgard, of course, is out of the question so long as I do not rule it.”

“You want me to follow you into outerspace?”

Only his silence could tip you off that Loki was actually nervous. He clearly had no idea how you would respond to his suggestion–which was by falling into a nearby chair to gape at him.

“You want me to leave my family?” you asked.

“They live far away and hardly talk to you.”

“And my job?”

“That you’ve never liked. We’re both aware.”

“And my best friend?”

“She spends most of her time visiting mosques in India with her boyfriend,” Loki said with a dismissive flick of his hand. “Besides, there’s no rule to say we can’t come back to visit her every so often. I have no objection. She seems a sensible enough woman.”

“And you want me to leave them all,” you went on as though you couldn’t hear him, “for you, a man I haven’t seen in years because he was in prison.”

Once more, Loki said nothing. His green eyes peered into yours with unreadable depths, just as they had the unfortunate day you had returned home after to work to find your injured pigeon friend gone and a strange man eating all of the meat out of your fridge in its place. You could remember, too, the feel of that man’s skin against yours, the heat of his lips on your neck, the sound of his low voice in your ear–and Jared complaining, always complaining, about how much time you spent with that damn bird.

You buried your face in your hands. “I can’t do it, Loki. I can’t.”

You waited to hear him leave again, to hear the glass move and the rush of the storm and the flutter of wings. None came. All that did was one soft word:

“Please.”

“Huh?”

When you looked up, Loki was right above you. His hands gripped the chair arms at your sides with enough force to make them whiter than ever–but his eyes were not on yours anymore.

“Please,” he said, “I don’t want to lose you, too.”

Another move without thinking or warning: You gently touched his other cheek.

Loki’s eyes closed for a half second before he moved one hand to hold your wrist there. “I have already lost my father, my mother, my home. My own brother has thrust me unceremoniously from both realms I sought to rule. And then to hear that I would lose you, too, to an oaf like that Jared.”

No one could say that Loki losing all of this wasn’t entirely his fault. He had decided to lead an alien invasion into Earth, to try murdering several members of his mentioned family, and to seduce young Earth women under the guise of hurt animals. But part of Loki’s charm was that he never failed to make one doubt that he could be better, maybe, if you only let him try.

“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely. A sincere apology didn’t mean your mind was changed, however, and this, also, Loki knew.

“Do you want me to beg?” he asked. “I am no longer a stranger to begging.”

With that, Loki slid to the wooden floor before you. Stranger or no, it was positive it wasn’t a position he relished being in, what with how stiff his hands were around yours when he made to hold them. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and began:

“I know I am asking a lot. But I, too, have lost a family, a job, and my closest friends. I would not ask you to come with me if I did not intend on paying you pack ten times in kind. If you will allow me to take you with me, I know I can make you happier than you would be here. Together we will find some place to call our own, and you shall be my queen. So please,” he said, “please let me keep one last thing that I love. Don’t make me leave you behind, too.”

It wasn’t the prettiest speech you had ever heard come out of his mouth, but it was probably the most honest. You gave him a tiny smile as you squeezed his hands in return. “A queen, huh?”

Loki smirked. “Or a comfortable, quiet living, depending on what we find, and how thorough Thor is in seeking me out. At least we could be comfortable and quiet for a little while.”

“Can’t imagine that’s going to last long with you around.”

“With you around to look after me, though…”

That got you to laugh. “Oh, yes, I’m sure I’d do a wonderful job making sure you didn’t get into any trouble. I did such a good job before.”

Some of the color returned to Loki’s features. He was starting to hope. Against your better judgement, so were you. A couple of things, however, remained to bother you:

“What if you came here and Jared and I were married?” you asked.

“Then I would have had to resort to kidnapping.”

“And how did you even know I was getting married today to begin with?”

He smiled his Cheshire smile, and that was when you knew you were truly lost. “You really ought to stop talking to the birds on your fire escape. You never know which one would be willing to pass information off in exchange for a couple of peanuts.”

“Oh, and you stalk me. What part of this deal doesn’t sound good?”

“None of it, I should hope.” Standing, Loki kept one hand firmly around one of yours. “We should go, you realize. Unless you want to say your goodbyes?”

You thought of your parents blustering about how you dared to invite both of them to your wedding. You thought of the forlorn apartment you shared with a man that had never really loved you for you. You thought of Aliyah and her instance that Jared would never be good enough for you. You thought of the awkward explanation that would be expected as soon you set foot outside that door–and you grinned.

“Not a chance.”

“Then I believe,” he said, and abruptly pulled you into his arms in an obvious parody of carrying a bride before pushing the window open with his boot, “we have a few errands to go on before we get on our way.”

“Like what?”

“Unless you plan to live the rest of our lives with nothing but multiple blenders,” he began, but was not able to finish over your sudden laughter and the return of the torrent outside.

You latched your hands behind his neck as he dove back into the rain. There were stars somewhere above those clouds, and you would be visiting them soon enough–them and endless other realms. Maybe eloping with a man that could turn into a pigeon wasn’t the best miracle there ever was on Midgard, but it pulled off the most important trick of them all: Against all odds, you lived happily ever after.

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actually-reid · 4 years ago

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filling in the blanks as we go - chapter six

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer is absent and you try to sort out your feelings over your argument

We're all back in the bullpen by 9am. Luckily for us, there's no case yet so I'm sitting at my desk typing up reports and statements until we get assigned something else. I'm sat up straight, my complete attention trained on the screen in front of me in a desperate attempt to ignore the looks I can feel I'm getting.

I had made sure to put extra effort into my appearance today, wanting to look as unbothered as possible. My hair is in one of my favourite styles I usually don't leave time for in the morning and my clothes and makeup are impeccable. Unfortunately for me, this doesn't seem enough of a front as I feel JJ and Emily look at me from the coffee machine whilst they chat and my desk neighbour stealing glances at me whenever he gets a chance.

The best way to dissuade Reid of my feelings would be to show no real care over the altercation; if his accusation was false, why would I worry? I waltzed in with my coffee in hand and a smile before settling and getting to work quietly.

Until now.

"Y/N?"

My head turns to face him automatically which is probably best despite how much effort I was putting into tuning the rest of the room out. My mask shows a face of interest with raised eyebrows and my eyes land on his cautious expression. I can see him looking for a line between us that he just can't find, unsure whether to mirror ignorance or hit it head on. We're both reading into each other a bit too much.

"Do, uh, do you have the plans of the unsub’s house? From the file?"

It's the worst excuse I've heard in a while, especially coming from him. I know for a fact that he has a plan of the house in his head that he's probably made down with rough dimensions of each room from memory but I dig out the plans from my case file anyway and hand it to him with a cheap smile before getting back to work. I swivel back to my monitor but I can see in my peripherals that he's still facing me, still looking at me like he wants to say something but can't quite build up the nerve. I'm thankful that I make eye contact with Morgan on the walkway as he comes out of his office.

"Hey princess, how you holding up?" He says as he shuffles down the stairs and heads towards us. I roll my eyes with a grin at the nickname before fixing my glare to the computer again.

"I'm fine, Derek." I don't look up at him. I don't look at Reid either though, which is harder because my ingrained response to that nickname is to look at Reid and shake my head. Pretty Boy and Princess usually suffered together.

"If you say so." He leaves it at that, patting my shoulder as he walks past towards Garcia's office. By the time he's out of sight, Reid has resigned back to his paperwork and I let out a quiet sigh in relief before resuming my work.

Another cup of coffee later and with Prentiss sat at her desk on the other side of me, Reid's phone starts ringing. The Doctor doesn't usually get that many phone calls so I glance at him in curiosity. There's a tinge of reluctance in his speed to answer the phone, staring at the number or contact for a second too long before placing the device to his ear.

"Hello, this is Dr Reid."

I can tell that he recognises the voice on the other end from his manner and everything seems fine until his free hand lifts to rest on his cheek anxiously.

"Alright, I'm going to come visit, maybe I can help calm her down." He's up in a second, hurrying to Hotch's office whilst still on the phone. My eyes follow him as he goes and after he knocks and lets himself into Hotch's office I turn to Emily who has the same worried look on her face as I do. He's in and out as quick as a flash, everyone knowing that Hotch is always sympathetic towards family issues. No longer on the phone, he rushes back to his desk before he starts to shove things haphazardly into his satchel.

All thoughts of our disagreement have left my mind, his anxiety to get going enough to show how serious this must be. "Spence, what's happening?" My voice is soft and quiet but it's clearly something he doesn't expect and I can tell I've halted whatever train of thought he was following. He pauses his movements for a moment and I notice his breaths are heavy as he swallows hard. His tongue peeks out to wet his lips as he thinks before he says, "Walk me out?"

I nod with no hesitation and he closes his satchel before slinging it over his shoulder. We march towards the elevators and when the door closes it seems to cut all tension between us as I watch him sag against the wall. I wait for him to start.

"Mom had a major delusion that one of the other patients was a spy and she just assaulted him so badly he's going to the hospital. I don't think her new meds are mixing well. I'm going to go try and calm her if she isn't calm by the time I get there and then I'm going to have to persuade the study not to kick her out despite their no violence regulations."

"Spence, I'm so sorry."

I'm slow in my movement so he has time to pull away if he wants to, but my palm finds its way to his arm with no resistance. My thumb moves minutely in comfort for a second or two before I hear his bag thud on the floor and feel his arms around my waist. His chin rests gently on my shoulder and he's grasping me tightly but not enough that it's uncomfortable. Despite still not being used to touching him, my arms automatically loop around his neck. He's so warm and completely flush up against me, the smell of coffee and cinnamon nearly overwhelming. We stand there for a second and I pray that the lift keeps moving and no one calls for it. I feel him shake his head slightly into my shoulder and my hand drifts upwards into the hair at the nape of his neck.

If this had been anyone else, I would have wanted this to end as soon as possible but it's him and I can tell he's scared. There's a chance his mom won't recognise him or he won't be able to help and he'll be sidelined leaving him to watch whilst feeling completely useless. Not only that but if he can't convince the facility to let her stay he'll be tasked with finding somewhere else to look after her to good enough standards on extremely short notice. It's daunting and completely understandable. I may be mad at him but no one deserves this.

Eventually, the elevator arrives on the ground floor and I let my hands drop to my sides. He leans to pick up his bag and it's back on his shoulder as the door opens.

"Do you want me to come with you?" I ask him, because if he wanted me to, I know I would go without another thought, whether Hotch allowed it or not. He shakes his head though, stepping out to stand on the threshold between the doors.

"Let us know how it goes, okay?" I say, hoping he hears my desperate me under the us. "Send her our love."

He gives a curt nod to show he will before half turning to go. I even press the button for the sixth floor before I realise he's still stood in front of me.

"You should still be angry with me." He breathes, like he can’t believe I’m even talking to him despite everything that just happened.

"I am a bit." I say honestly. "Your mom is more important right now, we can sort that later."

"Last time you said that I ended up being an idiot."

"Yeah well, try not to be this time?" I say and I'm trying not to sound too exasperated. "Or maybe we'll wait until we aren't in public."

"I don't deserve you." he mutters before stepping forward and putting his hand on the back of my neck. For a second, my breath hitches and I'm so confused about what's happening until he pulls me forwards slightly and I feel warmth coming from his lips on my forehead. It's brief but after he pulls away the sensation lingers like a brand on my skin.

He seems unsure of the action after committing it, scratching at his neck and looking at the floor between us. I'm still recovering from thinking for a split second that he might kiss me, as if he would do that in the middle of Quantico. I feel my face heat slightly just at the thought.

"I'll keep you updated." He says, before he finally looks me in the eyes again. He gives me his signature tight smile and turns to head towards the door and leaves. My fingertips shoot to where his lips had touched me as the doors shut in front of me and I am surprised at the doors closing before I remember that I'd already pressed for the sixth floor.

The first thing I register is the return of some of the anger I felt this morning. How hypocritical was it to do something like that after the events of the early hours, especially if he still believed that I did like him. The only reason you would do something like that would be if you felt the same damn way, which he had clearly proved he didn't. Then comes the doubt because his behaviour really was also hypocritical and his words come rushing back. To notice my pupils dilated or my rushed breathing, he would have to be looking and the only reason you would look for those kind of things was if you wanted them there. He'd admitted to liking my touch and just proved it by the hug in the elevator.

It was so confusing.

I step out of the elevator automatically as the doors open and linger for a second as my mind can't really settle on the correct next step. Surely, everyone would want to know why Reid had left so quickly although I knew most of them would have figured out only his Mom would make him leave in such a rush. The other details he'd told me I wasn't sure if he would be comfortable with me sharing.

"There you are!" I hear and I watch as Garcia shuffles towards me at speed in a pair of kitten heels. "My office now!" she says, all but grabbing my arms and dragging me there.

When I'm finally in her office, she locks the door and plants me into the chair behind hers as she sits down before looking at me expectantly.

"What's going on Penny?" I ask her seriously and in response she crosses her arms.

"Did Boy Genius just kiss you goodbye?"

Of course it's my luck that none of my interactions with Reid seem to be private; first the jet, now this. I sigh and I wipe my face with my palm in what I know even for someone who isn't a profiler is an act of admittance.

"I just wanted to check he was okay and then you guys kind of just hung around the doorway of the elevator for ages and obviously there's no audio like I just wanted to see what kind of state he was in before he left on his own and then I saw him-"

"We didn't kiss Penny, he just kissed my forehead goodbye for some reason." I sigh, putting an end to her rambling.

"Oh honey, for some reason? You can't be that blind."

"Morgan told you everything?"

"I know that you might have a little soft spot for him which I don't blame at all - I think you guys would be great together and uhm yeah, Morgan told me what happened on the jet last night or I suppose this morning really."

I'm shaking my head. "You weren't there, Penny. I've never seen him so pent up and then to say that I liked him in front of everyone, I mean he knew everyone was listening and he didn't wait or anything he just said it because he was losing the argument and Hotch could transfer me with that-"

"Hey, hey - Hotch isn't going to transfer you. You're too good for that and you're part of our family, even if Hotch knew he would turn a blind eye if he could."

"Exactly, none of this even matters because of the stupid rules Pen. I just want everything to go back to normal. You can't tell anyone what you saw okay? Not even Derek."

She nods and coos at me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. I take this as her agreement and cover her hand with my own.

"You know you can talk to me about this honey bun?"

"I know, I know Garcia but I can't right now. I'm gonna go back to the bullpen."

I'm confused, angry and almost upset and yet as my eyes find the empty desk next to mine, longing becomes the most overwhelming emotion. He's been an idiot but isn't everyone from time to time? He's still my best friend and his mom is ill and I know what kind of emotional toll he must be carrying from his mother must have just got ten times heavier.

"His Mom?" Prentiss asks, her voice drawing my attention away from the row of books that lined his desk.

I nod and meet her eyes. I've known Prentiss long enough to know the look she's giving is her attempt to not profile me but still figure out what's wrong.

"He asked you to walk him out?" She prods cautiously.

"He just needed some comfort before he left. He was aware I was still pissed at him."

She takes a moment, either to digest the information or choose an appropriate response. "Good. He shouldn't have pulled that shit last night. How are you doing?"

"I'm okay."

"I wanted to tell you, you played it off well. I can't imagine how you must have felt."

I give Prentiss a grateful but sad smile and she squeezes my hand. I think about telling her everything, how betrayed I feel and how confused I am but Hotch emerges out of his office in a rush and it drags our attention away. Seeing that he's caught our eyes, he lifts a manilla case file before saying, "Five minutes.", and we know that we've got a case. Prentiss gives my hand another squeeze before letting go and we head to the round table in a comfortable silence.

As we sit and wait for the others to show, I try to kick myself back into work mode. I'd been concentrating on Reid so much the whole morning that I find it hard to stop and his empty chair doesn't help. The caffeine from my earlier coffee must be kicking in because I'm jittery and my leg starts jogging under the table as I think until I register Prentiss noticing it and I forcibly stop myself.

I can't seem to concentrate. The others seem to just appear in front of me and then the briefing starts. I take in all the important information but I let everyone else do most of the talking. It's a set of family annihilations and it's not as if all the crimes we deal with aren't abhorrent but destroyed families are always the worse for me, especially with young kids.

"Wheels up in 30." Hotch finishes with and everyone stands up to gather their things.

"What about Reid?" I ask before immediately wishing I didn't. I feel everyone glance at me simultaneously as if in warning. I had barely said a thing the whole meeting only then to ask about Reid. It didn't even take as good a profiler as Hotch to work out where my mind had been the whole briefing.

"He'll join us when he can." Hotch replies and I'm glad that he lets it slide. Knowing him, he can probably sense my own annoyance at my attention being distracted from the work. I give a quick nod before rushing out of the room, wanting to get out of there before I embarrassed myself even more.

I think I hear JJ calling for me from across the room but I ignore it. I grab my go bag from under my desk and head to the bathroom. I drop the bag by my feet and with both hands grab the edge of the sink in front of me and stare into the mirror.

Something must be wrong with me. I've never had a problem with concentrating when it comes to working because I know how important this is. One missed detail can halt the investigation for days which can lead to more victims when we don't catch the unsub in time. I can't let this happen. In the mirror I see my face which I now regret spending so much time on in the morning. I should have slept more, maybe it would have helped and now I can't splash my face with water to calm me down since I have makeup on.

I'm in the middle of pulling myself together when I hear the door swing open. I'm standing up straight rather than leaning on the sink and washing my hands as JJ walks in.

"Y/N?" Her voice is gentle and quiet much like the tone I had used with Reid earlier in the elevator. Do I really look that fragile? I think to myself.

"It's okay to be worried, you know. I'm worried too. We all know how much Diana means to him."

"I know. I just don't want to be something else he has to worry about, like what if the whole thing on the jet was just him trying to dissuade me or, or I don't know. He must have known his mother wasn't doing well but he hadn't told me because we've been barely speaking and then we were so busy with the case yesterday and-"

"Hold on there." She interrupts, probably not wanting me to fall down a rabbit hole when we have to meet with the others so soon. "What happened on the jet wasn't your fault, he was just...an ass. And he knows it, he was looking at you with such regret the whole morning. Did he say sorry when you walked him out?"

"No, he just needed a hug. His mom assaulted someone and we all know how hard he looked for a good study for her Alzheimers, now he's worried she'll get kicked out for it."

"Oh God. Well, I'm sure he'll find a way for them to keep her." she says and I know she's right but it doesn't seem to help that much. We stand there in silence, not quite meeting each other's eye.

"You like him a lot, don't you?" She asks and I realise that this checkup is for more than what's going on with Reid. "We all assumed it was just a little crush at O'Keefes you know."

I hum approvingly as an almost silent laugh. "I suppose that makes me feel a bit better. I was so embarrassed, knowing all you guys knew whilst he was just rambling off 'symptoms of attraction'."

"He's such a nerd! Not even a 'I saw the way you looked at me' just an immediate 'your pupils dilated by 50%'." We both giggle for a minute, knowing that as much as we make fun of him for it it's never maliciously. "Does that turn you off him at all?" JJ asks cheekily with narrowed eyes and a sly smile and I shove her playfully.

"Is it bad if I say no?" I reply and we laugh some more. Usually, I was much closer to Garcia or Prentiss about personal matters but JJ was definitely the second closest to Reid after me and she had been here for many years with him before I had reached the team. It crosses my mind that he had probably defaulted back to her when I had shut him out slightly.

I dry my hands on some paper towel before tossing it away into the bin. JJ hands me my go bag and we link arms, which we've never done before. I'm not sure if it's a breakthrough in our friendship or if she wants to march me to the jet to make sure I don't delay it any longer and I find I don't really mind either option. Morgan, Hotch and Prentiss are all waiting in an SUV outside the lobby and we hop in ready to start another case.

tag list: @measure-in-pain @ilovespencerreidmarryme @spencersrose @chelsea-the-enchanted @just-arandomwriter @jswessie187 @mynameis3-14

tags that are struck through - check your privacy settings :/

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x you #dr reid #reid #spencer reid fanfic #myfics #tags please work

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 5 years ago

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lip sync your way into my heart

( @thecomfortofoldstorries and I got into a fun head-cannon debate last night about Tik Tok POVs and this is what happened)

--- Jaskier has never really been in the loop when it comes to social media. He was behind the curve when he made his Tumblr and he was two years late to sign up for Twitter. It’s no surprise that he finally downloads Tik Tok and makes an account several months after it’s become a viral platform.

That also means all the good usernames are taken; Jaskier types in @buttercup-bard, sees that it’s available, and calls it a day. This isn’t an app he’s going to care about. It’s just to waste time during his forty minute commute to and from campus.

Alas, he has ADHD...and this shit is addictive.

Especially, he hates to admit, the thirst-trap hotties who do weird, obscure, edgy POV videos. Jaskier knows they’re aimed primarily towards teen and young adult women but he’s a red-blooded Redanian gay. He’s horny. He can watch a few POV Tik Toks on the bus and thirst after pretty boys with big muscles...as a treat.

By Jaskier’s second week of classes he’s found a definite favorite Tik-Tokker (is that what they’re called? Or is it influencer? Jaskier doesn’t care). The guy is gorgeous. He has beautiful honey-gold eyes and long, silvery-white hair; which is appropriate since his handle is @whitehairdontcare. He makes a wide range of content, too. Perfect for Jaskier’s Concerta-focused tastes. There are some dances here and there and some Q&A videos, but for the most part he does POVs.

Jask and his roommates, Essi and Priscilla, have spent many happy hours poring over Mr. White Hair’s account, watching and re-watching their favorites from his vast repertoire of content. Essi loves his weird, edgy-boi shit. Stuff with titles like “POV: I fight the bully who insulted your haircut” or “POV: you make a deal with the devil for true love”. Stuff that Jaskier would have been into when he still listened to My Chemical Romance on the regular (okay, he still does, but don’t tell Essie).

Priscilla is a huge fan of Tik Tok dances. She follows every challenge and ranks her favorites, compiling them into a YouTube series that’s more for her self-gratification than anything else. Mr. White Hair is generally towards the top of her list whenever he deigns to follow a trend that doesn’t involve badly applied makeup blood smears. The guy clearly works out and the definition of his body (and the movements of said really hot body) make the dances look so much more fluid and fun. Jaskier and Priscilla clearly share a brain-cell when it comes to appreciating Mr. White Hair’s hotness.

Jaskier’s favorites, of course, are the cute little POVs that lie scattered between all the edgy ones. Stuff made for the softies of Tik Tok. Stuff made for boys like Jaskier. “POV: I fix your car for you” is the one he’s probably re-watched the most. Mr. White Hair is lying on his back beneath a jacked-up blue car, oil smeared in a few strategic places on his face, chest, and arms. At the very end of the Tik Tok he moves the wrench out of the way of his face completely and winks directly into the camera.

Jaskier hates to admit it, even to himself, but no matter how many times he’s watched that stupid twenty-give second video, that wink drops his heart straight down into his shoes and fills his stomach with butterflies.

---

“Hey do you guys carry fake blood here?” an almost terrifyingly deep voice asks from behind him. Jaskier twirls around on his heel, Retail Smile firmly in place, and loses his shit the moment he sets eyes on his latest customer.

It’s Mr. White Hair.

Here. In the middle of the aisle of the Party City where Jaskier works every weekend. He’s either going to throw up or pass out or both.

He doesn’t though. Instead, the Demon Lord of Retail possesses his body momentarily and nods, “Right over this way!” He leads the insanely attractive influencer over to the year-round section of Halloween FX makeup and gestures towards the shelf filled with various fake blood capsules, bottles, and packets.

“Thanks,” Mr. White hair smiles. Jaskier nods again, silent, and drifts back towards the counter in a daze. He’s the only one on shift right now (it is not a very busy Party City) and he knows that he can’t pass out on the dirty tile floor or he’ll get fired (and perhaps tetanus). He just needs to power through the next few minutes and then he can crouch next to the helium tank and freak the fuck out.

But not until Mr. White Hair is gone.

Just as Jaskier is re-learning how to breathe normally, the sexy internet star makes his way towards the counter with an armful of products and the retail worker loses it again. Thank god for the ability to compartmentalize.

“So, just these for you?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“No problem! I love your Tik Toks by the way,” Jaskier replies automatically. His eyes widen slightly. Why the fuck did I mention his Tik Toks!?

“Thanks,” the guy says and blushes. “I didn’t know they’d gotten so popular.”

“You have like two million followers?” Jaskier laughs. “I think that makes you pretty popular. Maybe even famous.”

“Oh yeah...right.”

“Anyway, your total is going to be twenty-one fifty.”

Mr. White Hair pays and Jaskier bags all his fake blood, wondering the whole time exactly what kind of content he can look forward to seeing. More of Essi’s edgy shit, apparently. As he’s handing the plastic bag over the counter, Jaskier smiles and works up the courage to ask, “Is your hair naturally white? I don’t mean to pry, it’s just really pretty.”

Geralt’s face goes slightly pinker than before and he nods. “Yeah. Weird genetic thing. Thanks.”

“No problem. Right on,” Jaskier beams. “Well, it was nice meeting a famous person. Thanks for stopping in.”

“Thanks for helping me out,” the Tik Tokker replies. Jaskier watches him exit the store before ripping his phone from his pocket and dialing Essi. He needs to talk to her before he spirals into a giddy panic attack.

---

“Hey Jask have you seen that hot guy’s latest Tik Tok?” Priscilla asks, lounging across her futon like a queen. Jaskier looks up from his copy of The Collective History of Aedirnian Funeral Dirges and wrinkles his eyebrows in confusion.

“No, why?”

“You should go check your phone. I think you’ll be happily surprised.”

“Oh-kay,” Jaskier says, drawing out the ‘kay’ for as long as it takes him to get up from his seat on the floor and exit the room. He retrieves his phone from the charger in the kitchen and returns to Priscilla’s bedside. He opens his new favorite app and pulls up @whitehairdontcare’s page. There’s a new POV from earlier this morning and Jaskier taps on it.

His eyes go round when he reads the caption: “POV: You’re the cute cashier at the Party City and I’m bad at flirting”.

Mr. White Hair is staring into the camera with those beautifully golden eyes, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand while he lip syncs to whatever song is playing. He’s wearing a tight, navy blue v-neck and Jaskier can see the movement of every one of his ridiculously defined muscles as they flex. The silver wolf’s-head necklace Mr. White Hair always wears around his neck is in its usual place, dangling down between those perfect collarbones…

Jaskier takes a shaky breath and glances up at his friends, who are staring back at him with wide eyes. “It could be about anyone.”

“How many Party Cities do you think he went to yesterday?”

“I’m not going to get my hopes up,” Jaskier snorts. “He’s a social media influencer and I am one semester away from finishing my degree and my thesis. Why would he ever want to be with someone like me?”

Essi rolls her eyes and Jaskier goes back to his homework.

---

Later that night, alone in his room, Jaskier plugs his earbuds into his phone and watches the Tik Tok over and over. He finds the song Geralt used and adds it to his Work Is Tough playlist, which he’s allowed to play over the loudspeakers at the store so long as he’s working a solo shift.

He watches Mr. White Hair’s plush pink lips move around the words and dreams of kissing them someday, as far-fetched as that scenario is (because this video is definitely not for him, that’s impossible):

“My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me.

So won't you kill me, so I die happy.

My heart is yours to fill or burst, to break or bury,

or wear as jewelry; whichever you prefer.”

Fucking Dashboard Confessional. Of course. One of Jaskier’s favorite bands from his emo days in middle school. If this really was for Jaskier, if this really was a legitimate attempt at online flirtation by Mr. White Hair himself, it was working.

Jaskier buries his head in his pillow and sighs.

#geraskier fic #geraskier tik tok au #there will be a part 2 i promise #geraskier fanfic #geraskier #geraskier au #all I do is make aus all day and work retail #geraskier fluff #flirty geralt #influencer geralt #party city employee jaskier #college student jaskier #geraskier college au #geraskier alternate universe #oops I keep making cute shit

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moonbeambucky · 5 years ago

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Hey Neighbor (Part 8)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 4650 Warnings: fluff, light angst

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 7 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Walking out through the automatic doors of Metro-General you were hit with a gust of wind so strong you had to adjust the scarf you had wrapped around your neck to make the fabric feel cozier. In your pocket you feel your phone having a near seizure as it vibrates, alerting you of all the messages you received during the day coming in all at once thanks to the lack of service on the eighth floor.

That’s where you spend most of your time, in the social work department sitting in a small cubicle with yellow fluorescent lighting hanging above and a drafty window that whistles as the wind blows. So far most of your work has been shadowing Elena as she is called down for consultations. When asked, you’ve given appropriate suggestions on what services would best suit the patients but you aren’t yet familiar with enough of them.

It was slow today, which was surprising for a Saturday she mentioned, so most of your time was spent researching the organizations within your reach and learning about the different services they provide. Staring at a screen all day made your eyes nearly close a few times but you survived. On your way home you read through all the messages received.

Ever since your celebratory get together everyone became friendlier with each other and started a group chat, declaring that on weekends you should all meet up and go to different bars.

Not everyone could always make it. Sam was usually working much to Wanda’s dismay, and another time Natasha was preparing for a large trial and needed every minute to work on her case. Bucky would show up about half the time, and you never asked why he couldn’t make it, assuming he had plans to hook up with someone whenever he wasn’t with you guys.

He still had women over on most nights. They weren’t as loud as before but you could hear them, panting his name like a sensual prayer as you scurried across your apartment to the bathroom. If he wasn’t finished by the time you were back in bed you put on your trusty headphones and hoped to fall back asleep.

When you finally exited the subway you replied back to the texts declining tonight’s invitation. You were honestly ready for a nap and even if you took one you doubt it would give you enough energy to stay up later.

A slew of sad faces sent by Steve made you feel a little guilty. He really wanted you to come out with him, especially since he started socializing again but you really needed this night off.

You: I promise I will do my absolute best to come out next weekend

Wanda: You better! Oh and we still have to talk costumes!

Halloween weekend was soon approaching and you knew you couldn’t miss that no matter how tired you were but tonight you were ready to crash.

Your heels were kicked off immediately, makeup barely wiped away as you changed into pumpkin pajama bottoms. Unhooking your bra felt heavenly and you tossed it aside, having it land somewhere in the vicinity of your living room. You slipped on a tank top and threw a comfy sweatshirt over that before plopping onto your bed and under the covers.

With your head on the pillow you stared at the phone cradled in your hand, holding it on the adjacent pillow. You weren’t actually trying to pay attention to the show you put on, just wanting something to fill the void of silence and within a few minutes you were asleep.

It was pitch black when your eyes opened. You searched for your phone on your bed, hands skimming across the mattress but you couldn’t find it. The smarter thing to do would be to turn on the lamp on your nightstand which you finally did. Your phone had fallen to the floor and upon picking it up you saw the time. It wasn’t that late, only nine-something. You could still go out and meet up with everyone but you chose not to. You were still kind of tired and now very hungry. Too lazy to make something you ordered pizza.

Hocus Pocus played in the background as you waited for your food; and finally looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror you fixed your half-assed attempt at makeup removal from before. Feeling more energized you straightened up your tossed clothes while absentmindedly singing along.

“I put a spell on you and now you’re gone, gone, gone so long. I put a spell on you and it was strong, so strong, so strong, so strong.”

You bounced around your apartment continuing to sing while tidying up. You were so excited for the prospect of pizza you practically ran to your door when there was a knock, opening it without looking through the peephole.

Instead of the pizza there was Bucky, arms crossed with a beaming smile. “Hey neighbor.”

You were surprised to see him, wondering why he would be knocking at your door and not out like you thought he would be. He also declined meeting up with everyone tonight so you assumed he had plans of his own.

“H-hey, what’re you doing here Bucky?”

His arms fell to his sides. “Oh nothing, just wanted to say thank you.”

Your face scrunched with confusion, trying to think of what reason he might need to thank you but just then Bucky answered the question you hadn’t asked.

“For the show. I put a spell on yooooou,” he mimicked, swirling his arms across his chest performatively.

“Oh no, you heard me!?”

You hid your face in your hands as Bucky chuckled, “Thin walls, remember?”

Peeking through your fingers you saw the genuine smile stretched across Bucky’s face. He may have been teasing but he wasn’t laughing at you. Thankfully he hadn’t heard anything worse, because if there was a real Disney marathon on he might have been the one putting on his headphones to block out the high notes you strained to reach in “Let It Go.”

“Yes, yes, I remember,” you smirk back at him. “So, you headed out?”

His head shook before he answered. “No, staying in tonight. I was up all night composing; it threw my whole day off.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that goi– ” The loud buzzing of your doorbell made you jump. That was the pizza. “Hang on a sec.”

You stepped back into your apartment to press the bell for the front door, telling Bucky he might as well step inside as you went to get your wallet.

“Are you hungry? I got pizza from Antonio’s. Have you tried them before?”

He thought about it and shook his head.

“Well sit down then and we can cross it off our list.” You smiled, turning around as you heard the muffled ding of the elevator from down the hall and waited at your front door for the delivery.

Bucky didn’t plan on spending his evening with you but he certainly didn’t mind the sudden change. He excused himself to go back to his apartment and turn off his lights. While there he cancelled plans with a girl named Rachel who would have been over sometime after midnight. She was cute but he really wasn’t feeling anything and truthfully between the lack of sleep he doesn’t have the energy to entertain her.

When Bucky came back you had the pizza set up on the table beside some plates and napkins. “Not sure what you wanted to drink,” you stated, opening your fridge and letting him choose what he wanted.

Together you settled down on your couch, with Bucky holding onto the beer as you raced up again to grab a coaster. He chuckled to himself as you bounced back beside him, taking a sip of the soda that you splashed with a little rum.

“See, it’s like I went out tonight,” you chuckled, raising your glass.

As Hocus Pocus ended you let him flip through the channels to find something to watch. There was an abundance of Halloween movies on and Bucky gasped when he found the perfect one.

“You’ve seen Psycho, right?” He smiled when you nodded. “Okay, but you haven’t seen it with me so you’re really in for a treat.”

Bucky sat up straighter, excited for the start of one of his favorite movies. It took less than ten seconds for him to start breaking things down to you, and not in a pretentious way you’ve been accustomed to by men before. Though you didn’t know Bucky for that long you could immediately see a change in him. His eyes lit up, filled with wonder as he began to describe the score.

“Right away we’re hit with unnerving music playing over the opening title sequence, with the text literally being dissected. It’s audiovisual foreshadowing in its most beautiful form. It really sets the tone for the film.”

All throughout the film Bucky would interject facts that you loved to hear, especially since every word was laced with passion.

“Have you noticed something?”

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be noticing,” you said, smiling at him while grabbing another slice.

“The score. It’s all strings. It’s beautiful. You know piano might be my favorite to play but strings…” he sighed happily, “Those are my favorite to compose.”

As the movie continued you couldn’t help but glance over at Bucky, watching the way he would sometimes shut his eyes and listen to the score alone, his mouth tugging his lips into a content smile as he appreciated the music.

When the infamous shower scene came on Bucky tapped your arm, practically scrambling to talk about the score again.

“Herrmann designed the score in a way where the shrill notes of the strings represent the blade stabbing Marion even though you don’t see it. That’s the power of music.”

Bucky turned to the screen to watch the score play out over the scene and when it was over he suddenly remembered he was with you in your apartment and not back in college where his rants on music analysis were welcome.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, you probably just wanted to watch the movie and I’m ruining it because I can’t shut my damn mouth.” Fingers ran through his long hair as Bucky let out a stressful sigh.

“No, Bucky it’s okay really. I liked learning about that, it’s not something I ever really thought of before.” Your smile washed away his worries and Bucky thanked you for letting him ramble on.

When the movie ended you and Bucky continued to lounge on your couch, finding another one to watch. Feeling a chill run down your back you grabbed the fuzzy blanket and draped it across yourself, extending the material to Bucky in case he was also cold. With the comfort of the blanket and pizza filling your sated stomachs, neither you or Bucky realized you had ended your evening by falling asleep.

You awake with a groan, reaching your hand up to your neck as it stretches uncomfortably. Blinking your eyes a few times you noticed you weren’t in bed and your couch didn’t feel normal. Sitting up and stretching you finally cocked your head and realized why; you weren’t sleeping on a cushion.

Bucky was asleep on your couch in a half sitting up, half laying down, one-hundred percent uncomfortable position. It wasn’t unusual to have a man sleeping on your couch as Steve had crashed there in the past, and occasionally you had fallen asleep on him but Bucky was not Steve. Yet somehow it didn’t seem as awkward as it should have been. Maybe it was the way Bucky bared his musical heart last night but you felt like you understood him on a new level.

Quietly you got up from the couch, gently placing cups and dishes in the sink making sure they didn’t make a sound. You threw away whatever garbage was lying around, setting the pizza box aside and then finally made your way to the bathroom. You forgot to lock the door and hoped he wouldn’t wake up. Sleeping on Bucky was one thing but you’re not ready for him to burst through the door as you’re peeing.

“Shit. Did I fall asleep here?” Bucky rasped as he woke up not long after.

“Yeah it’s alright. How’s your neck?” you asked just as his face scrunched together while stretching.

“Not the best.” Bucky looked around, seeing your bed covers thrown in the same position he recalled from the night before. “D-did you sleep here too? I mean on the couch, I know this is your place,” he chuckled somewhat nervously.

“Yeah, sorry if your arm’s a little numb. I think I slept on it.” You grimaced as he shook the pins and needles feeling away.

“I feel terrible imposing like this. Let me make it up to you. Breakfast at my place? I make the best omelettes. Five stars, I promise.”

His head tilted down to reveal big, blue eyes that begged for forgiveness. You couldn’t say no if you tried.

“Sounds good Bucky.”

You agreed to come over in a half hour as Bucky wanted to take a shower to really wake himself up first. As the warm water sprayed against his aching muscles he frowned, wondering why he was upset at the momentary loss of your scent surrounding him. This was… weird and Bucky decided not to give it further thought, figuring it comes with the territory of having new friends.

Sunday’s were the only day you had for yourself; no work, no internship, just a full day you could spend however you wanted. Breakfast with Bucky was worth spending some of that time on. Not only were his omelettes as delicious as he said they would be but you really enjoyed his company, even after spending most of the night together.

“Steve you look amazing!”

You beamed as he walked into your apartment, twirling around slowly so you could get a good look at his Robin Hood costume. He set his bow down on your table, asking to help adjust the straps of his quiver containing his plastic arrows.

“So you think you’ll find your Maid Marian tonight?” you smirked, adjusting the hood attached to his green tunic.

Steve chuckled under his breath, ignoring you and quickly changing the topic. “You look heavenly,” he said teasingly.

You raised your palm, belting out an angelic sound as you looked up towards the large silver halo hanging above your head. For your Halloween costume you were going as an angel, wearing a long pleated white dress adorned with a sequined straps and feathery white wings that stuck out a few inches past your shoulders.

“My feet are going to kill me,” you stated, slipping into a pair of glittery platform pumps you haven’t worn since attending your friend Nakia’s wedding last year. “But it’ll be worth it.”

Wanda was dressing up as a devil, probably perfecting her scarlet lips as you speak. She was going to meet up directly at the bar along with Sam who would be coming straight from work. Clint and Natasha would be traveling with you and Steve, and Bucky… well he didn’t exactly RSVP for tonight’s hang out. He said he would try to be there and you hoped he would. It’s been a while since the whole group was together and you missed the fun of that dynamic.

A knock on your door had you clacking your heels against the wood floor as you stride across the room. Steve cocks his head at the immediate burst of laughter he heard.

“S-Steve...”

You’re barely able to get his name out as you walk further into your apartment, face tight with laughter and then he sees it... Clint’s costume. Steve’s head tips backwards immediately with laughter as his hand goes to his chest, unable to contain the sight in front of him.

Clint was dressed, or rather undressed as Princess Leia in her prisoner outfit. A green bra adorned with golden accents stretched across his pale chest and the skirt was cut high on his legs, revealing they had not seen the sun in years, or maybe ever. He wore cowboy boots to complete his look, twirling the gold chain that hung from the choker around his neck, grinning widely at Steve who could not catch his breath.

Natasha strode in behind him as the sexiest Han Solo you’ve ever seen in a simple white shirt and black vest, knee high boots over slim blue pants. They looked amazing together but Clint obviously won between the two.

Locking up you looked over towards Bucky’s door, debating for a moment to knock and see if he would come out. You hadn’t heard much noise through the wall so you let it go and headed towards the elevators with everyone.

“Wanda! What the fuck?!”

You stared at your best friend wearing a costume that was not what you had planned.

“Didn’t you get my text?” She tucked a freshly colored strand of hair behind her ears, a deep cherry red that make the white hat bearing the red nursing cross symbol of her costume stand out even more.

You shrugged off your bag to grab your phone and check, muttering under your breath how mad you would be at yourself if you missed her text.

“Wait, stop.” Wanda halted your actions as you held your phone. “I didn’t text you. I’m so sorry Y/N. I didn’t want you to be mad at me but I really wanted to go as a nurse.”

“Wan, I wouldn’t have been mad.”

“It’s just that Sam is coming from work and I thought it would be cute… to match him.” She tried to hide the blush that dusted her cheeks.

You teased her a bit more, asking if she and Sam are gonna actually do something other than flirt with each other.

“Well, maybe tonight we can change that.” She smiled, with a hopeful twinkle in her eye.

“I hope so. Sam would be a total ass if he didn’t make a move, just sayin’”

“Speaking of asses, Clint’s is hanging out!” She pointed towards him laughing, “I cannot believe he wore that!”

The night was fun as you danced and drank with the girls. Sam arrived later than you expected but Wanda lit up like a Christmas tree. He wore blue scrubs (a fresh pair thankfully as he began to describe a trauma that came in earlier) and he was equally surprised to see her costume.

“If you came in lookin’ like that we would have had to put a lot of people on life support!”

Wanda and Sam went to get a drink together leaving you and Natasha alone to dance. Clint was sitting in a booth and you scanned the room for Steve who you thought was with him.

“Oh my god!”

You turned Natasha around, to point at Steve in the corner talking to a beautiful Daenerys Targaryen. You had seen a few of them tonight already, some wearing the blue and gold dress from Qarth and another as Daenerys if she were a White Walker, but this one caught your eye.

She was shorter than Steve but stood tall holding her shoulders back. There was something regal about her and not just because she was dressed as the Mother of Dragons determined to finally set sail to Westeros. You couldn’t hear their conversation but you could tell that Steve was hooked on every word, captivated by the way she spoke, watching him look to the floor with embarrassment after she flashed her smile at him.

A woman with short blonde hair dressed as Cersei Lannister came up to them, handing Daenerys, who was obviously her friend, a drink. Steve politely introduced himself, though it was clear he only had eyes for his Khaleesi.

“What’re we looking at?”

The hot breath of a voice tickled your bare shoulders and you turned ever so slightly to find Bucky’s face right beside you.

“You made it!” you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around Bucky for a hug and he was careful of your wings as he returned the gesture.

“Hey neighbor, or uh neighbors,” he laughed at himself greeting Natasha. “Why are you staring at Steve?”

“‘Cause I think he’s actually flirting with someone for the first time in over a year!”

Bucky smiled as he saw how happy you were for Steve. You had a big heart and it was one of the reasons Bucky really liked you– your friendship, he corrected his inner thoughts.

Natasha walked back to sit beside Clint leaving you and Bucky together. You finally take a look at his costume; a black leather jacket and white t-shirt, cuffed jeans and high top Converse sneakers. His hair was slicked back and pulled into a bun, not the right length to really style as Danny Zuko but everything else made it obvious.

You followed him as he went to the bar to get a drink and got yourself another. He raised his voice over the loud music, “So how many people have asked if it hurt when you fell from Heaven?”

“Surprisingly not too many. But someone did grab my hand and said they were ‘touched by an angel.’”

Bucky scowled. “Who grabbed you?” He started looking around the bar, flaring his nostrils as he scanned the room, as if he would magically be able to tell.

You placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him. “It’s okay, Steve and Clint took care of it. I think Clint scared the guy more to be honest.”

A smile cracked on Bucky’s face again. “He’s pretty brave. You wouldn’t catch me in that.”

“No you look like more of a Luke to me, like literally you kind of look like a young Mark Hamill.” You smiled as Bucky laughed, protesting your claim. “No it’s true. If your hair was shorter I could totally see you pull off an awesome Luke Skywalker.”

“Cut my hair? Hmm, I don’t think so.” He shook his head quickly.

The two of you went to the table with Natasha and Clint and the four of you were soon joined by Steve, whose eyes might as well have been in the shape of hearts by the expression he couldn’t shake.

“What’s her name?” Clint cooed, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his hands under his chin.

A deep smile spread across Steve’s face as he slouched into the chair, his body becoming jelly at the sound of her name leaving his lips. “Peggy. Peggy Carter. Agent Carter actually.”

Peggy was a British Intelligence Agent who worked at the Consulate in New York. Steve looked over her contact information on his phone and even though she was a few feet away from him he couldn’t wait to see her again. He had taken enough of her time away from her friends, Carol, the Cersei who he just met, and the group they were supposed to have joined though Steve and Peggy’s extended conversation kept her occupied.

“Those might as well be Cupid’s arrows huh, Robin Hood!” you teased.

Natasha smirked, “Speaking of Cupid…” She directed everyone’s attention to Sam and Wanda having a full on makeout session in the middle of the dance floor.

Clint roared loudly at them which they may not have heard over the music, but either way it didn’t seem like anything would stop their lips from separating, even the need for air. At least Sam was a doctor, he’ll know what to do.

Everyone seemed to break up into groups. Sam and Wanda were still inseparable, Clint was with Natasha posing for pictures, Steve met up with Peggy again and you couldn’t be mad about that, which left you and Bucky alone.

It was nice to catch up with him again. Between developing programs for The September Foundation and interning at the hospital and Bucky working to meet a deadline you hadn’t seen much of each other in the last week.

“Must be fun though,” he commented, while discussing your new duties at Stark Industries.

“Maybe it would be if I wasn’t so intimidated,” you half-joked, laughing before you took a sip of your drink. “I’m surrounded by– ”

“Buuuccckkkkyyyyy!”

The familiar sound of a woman whining his name interrupted you. A creepy tingle ran down your spine as you remembered where you’ve heard that exact whine before– through the walls.

A redhead wearing hardly anything runs up to Bucky and clearly they have been well acquainted before. She ignores your presence completely as she wraps her arms around him for a hug, pulling him away from you. In doing so you missed the uncomfortable look on Bucky’s face.

“Dot. I didn’t know you would be here.”

“Same. If you told me we coulda matched Buck. I’d be the Sandy to your Danny.” She lifted her chest, pushing her breasts out even more than they already were.

“And what are you supposed to be?” Bucky wondered out loud, looking up and down at the lingerie she was wearing.

Dot scoffed. “I’m the witch from Hocus Pocus.”

Bucky sort of saw it; the purple lace up corset and sheer skirt, cut specifically to show more skin, with the lacy green robe. Her red curls were sort of shaped into Winifred Sanderson’s similar hairstyle but Dot specifically let a few tresses fall beside her face.

“I put a spell on you and now you’re mine!”

She sang every note off key and Bucky tried to stop his face from looking like he was going to throw up. It was nothing like the way you sounded that night you were singing carefree in your apartment. Bucky turned around to plead with you and help him get rid of this girl but you were nowhere to be found.

With Bucky’s attention clearly taken you decided to get another drink and there you ran into Bruce. You knew him from work as one of Tony Stark’s top scientists. You had run into during the R&D meetings you attended with Maria but tonight he looked great as Doc Brown from Back to the Future.

“Some of us science bros wanted to dress up accordingly,” he chuckled softly, pointing out his friends dressed as other famous fictional scientists, Dr. Frankenstein and a mashup of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde.

“That’s amazing!” you laughed, beaming a wide smile that caught Bucky’s attention from across the bar.

You looked really happy while talking to that guy and Bucky didn’t want to interrupt. Just like Steve, he knew you hadn’t given yourself much time in the past to meet someone so if this was your night to get lucky he didn’t want to take that away from you, even if he would much prefer to continue hanging out. Dot grinded against him and Bucky let her, leaving shortly after as she made some bad comment about “riding his broom.”

After speaking with Bruce you caught up with everyone who seemed ready to go home.

“Where’s Bucky?” you asked, looking around for him.

“I think he left with some girl,” Sam said, half paying attention, giggling as Wanda wiped some of her lipstick off of him.

“Oh,” you said, deflated.

Walking out of the bar you draped your jacket across your shoulders and protruding wings, wondering why you felt so hurt that Bucky hadn’t said goodbye. It was rude but you don’t know what you expected.

Before you even knew Bucky you knew this is what he was like, sleeping with half of New York so you shouldn’t be surprised. Yet when you got home, just before getting into bed you stared silently at the wall you shared, feeling a single tear slip down your cheek.

PART 9

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series

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lilbabycee · 5 years ago

Text

envy // steve rogers 🍏

↳ summary: at one of tony's parties, the reader and her green-eyed monster show some concern over steve's relationship with a certain shield agent.

↳ relationship: steve rogers x reader

↳ word count: 3.4k

↳ warnings: angst with some fluff, misunderstandings, an overused trope, sensitive reader, best friend!bucky and surrogate dad!tony

↳ author’s note: i’m back with some more steve fluff because i’m a sucker for this man - enjoy! x

You hate to admit it, but you’re jealous.

That slimy green-eyed monster is rearing its ugly head over your shoulder, teeth glinting in the low lights of one of Tony’s parties. It sidles up right next to you, breathing all sorts of lies and falsehoods in your ear, urging you to act or become enraged. Currently, you’re doing an okay job of ignoring it but the longer that it stays perched on your shoulder, its long claws digging into your flesh, the more frustrated you get. Its green eyes are beady and burn holes into the side of your face; you grimace, promptly choosing to ignore its piercing glare.

Your grip on the stem of your champagne glass tightens enough that your fingers start to become sore, and the sudden urge to swallow the contents of your glass becomes unbearable. She lays her hand on his shoulder as she laughs - cackles, you think bitterly - and he places a hand on her waist in response. You can’t seem to help the roll of your eyes and your shiny black red bottoms start to make themselves over to where Tony and Wanda are sat.

Wanda looks up as you approach, offering you a bright smile. Your face automatically reciprocates the sentiment, her happiness infectious. Since the death of Pietro, you know how much Wanda has been struggling to find her place within the team. She reminds you an awful lot of yourself, so you’ve taken it upon yourself to help her integrate into the group.

“Hi, Y/N,” she greets you, shifting on the sofa and patting the space next to her invitingly. You sink into the couch and Wanda winds an arm around your neck, kissing your cheek dramatically when Tony looks up from where he’s been swirling a glass of whisky contemplatively and smirks at you.

“Hey there, sweet cheeks,” he calls you affectionately, eyes softening at your presence. As Tony’s ‘apprentice’ - “...you know I’m your mentor, kid… no, I’m not gonna be modest because I pretty much made you, honey… I might as well have given birth to you too...” - you’ve been working alongside the Avengers for years. You’re the person behind the desk - the information that they get before missions, during missions, and after missions all comes from you. As their main source of communication, there is little time to rest but you do consider every member of the team a close friend by now. Tony… God, Tony is like your dad. In fact, you call him ‘dad’ upon his insistence - sometimes in jest, sometimes seriously. Your family became distant after learning that you were working with the ‘Earth’s mightiest heroes’ they must not have seen Thor drunk before because some of the Avenger's work doesn’t ‘align with their personal beliefs’ - bullshit - and you hadn’t spoken to them in years. So when Tony took you under his wing when you were but a mere teenager after originally hiring you as his personal assistant’s assistant, you were nothing but grateful to the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.

“Hi, Wanda, hey, Tones,” you address them both, heaving a tired sigh while your eyes subconsciously drift back to where your favorite Avenger is standing with your favorite SHIELD agent. Tony opens his mouth to start teasing you about the length of your spaghetti-strapped sparkly red dress - planning to make some teasing comment like Y/N, who let you leave the house showing that much skin? Go back and change this instant! - but he sees where your attention has been redirected. Wanda stares at the side of your head intently for a few seconds before a secret little smile appears on her face.

“How’s Steve, Y/N?” she questions in an innocent tone, watching you jump and snap your head back around so fast that you get a little bit of whiplash.

“Uh, S-Steve?” you stutter. “W-why - uh - why would I know about Steve?”

Tony rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his drink before placing it back down on the table in front of him. He smacks his lips together loudly and licks them afterwards, seemingly exasperated. You raise a challenging eyebrow at him in response and he stares back at you flatly.

“I think I can speak for the whole team when I say that I’m tired of you and Capsicle dancing around each other,” he looks nonchalantly over his right shoulder before turning back to you with that same look in his eyes. “Not that he can really dance anyway - that awkward motherfucker - but if you had the balls to go up to him, sweetie, then maybe you could teach him.”

Your surrogate father’s brown eyes bear into yours and you twist your mouth to the side in embarrassment, quickly avoiding his gaze. “Dad-”

“Listen, Y/N, if you don’t go talk to him about all of your gross teenage-like feelings then I will,” he threatens with all of the indifference in the world.

Wanda nods her head in agreement, looking at you sympathetically but with a glint of mischief in her eyes. You narrow your own at her in suspicion but she only smiles at you.

“There’s no harm in trying,” she gently coaxes you and you bury your face in your newly well-manicured hands. The coolness of the flashy golden rings adorning your fingers - all gifts from Tony - seeps into your skin, overheating from the stress of the situation and the heat from all of the bodies packed into the spacious area. Quickly, you realize that Wanda’s right and that the worst that could happen is rejection - oh God - so you abruptly stand up, hearing Wanda do a little whoop! behind you.

The click of your heels on the expensive flooring of the lounge empowers you to put a little extra sway in your hips and straighten out your posture. A smile grows on your deep-red, glossed lips as you get closer to the bar. Natasha and Bruce are having a conversation right next to where Steve and Shannon - no, Stella … Sharon are speaking. Natasha assesses your demeanor and smirks knowingly, shooting you a quick wink. A quick panic seizes you, almost stopping your strut - I need a drink. So on your way to Steve and Sharon, you grab the champagne glass from in front of Nat and she puckers her lips at you, blowing you a kiss. You blow one back in the same fashion, finally stopping in front of Steve and Sharon.

Admittedly, she looks great. Her blonde hair is down in loose waves - it frames her face really nicely. Her makeup is subtle but really accentuates her best features. Her dress sweeps the floor and is a simple light grey silk. You fight the urge to scoff - to her credit, she’s beautiful and you’re even more jealous than before. Great.

Steve’s head turns when he sees you out of the corner of his eye, and your breath catches in your throat. He’s wearing grey slacks that really hug his thighs and ass - yum - and the white shirt that he’s chosen to wear instead of his regular blue plaid ones makes your mouth literally water. It’s not that you don’t appreciate the blue shirts because if there’s anyone who appreciates anything and everything that Steve does, it’s you. But the white … it’s crisp and clean and reminds you of when you used to run through the white flags of your mother’s laundry hung in your backyard, lush green grass staining the soles of your small feet. The soft cotton of the simple shirt somehow brings out the color of his eyes, and they’re looking more like blueberries than the ocean tonight. He’s clean-shaven with his hair neatly styled and the sleeves of his collared shirt are rolled up his forearms casually. His shirt isn’t buttoned all the way up to the top - thank God for Sam - and one of those strong capable hands is nursing a glass with barely any liquor inside. You quickly realize that it’s Asgardian liquor because Steve actually wants to enjoy himself tonight (?).

Those full lips spread around his perfect teeth in a grin and his hand falls from Sharon’s waist, a small sense of victory flowing through you. But then you reign yourself back in, knowing that you haven’t won the battle… yet.

“Good evening, Captain,” you address Steve with what you hope is a sultry smirk on your face. You nod towards Sharon as something of an afterthought, making sure that you’re being polite and smile sweetly at her: “Agent Carter.”

You don’t wanna be a total bitch and be super rude to her, because, really, what does that ever accomplish? You decide that you’re going to be civil, despite the fact that that green-eyed bastard is growling in your ear to rip her throat out.

Steve beams and assesses your appearance quickly before looking right back at your eyes. What a gentleman. “Hey, doll. You look great.”

Your cheeks hurt from how much you’re smiling and flirtily, you bat your eyelashes at him. “Thanks, Steve. You look great too. I like this look… a lot.”

He chuckles, those baby blues still boring into you. You almost feel like shrinking underneath his heavy gaze but instead, you hold your head up high and continue beaming at him, taking a sip of champagne. You watch his eyes follow your lips as you lick them free of the drink, and his cheeks flush red when he sees that you’ve caught him.

“So how are you enjoying the party, Y/N?” Sharon asks amicably, seemingly unaware of the moment that’s just transpired.

You decide to humor her: “I think it’s so nice that Tony wants to do these things for us… it’s super generous of him to host these parties. I’m loving it. But Sam left almost an hour ago, so I’ve been missing a dance partner for a little while now…”

You put your glass down and a cursory glance up at Steve has him springing into action, just like you hoped it would. “Come on, doll. I’ll dance with you.”

He grabs your hand swiftly and walks you to the dancefloor, not even sparing Sharon a glance. You feel slightly guilty - she hasn’t really done anything wrong - and shoot her a sympathetic look over your shoulder as well as a small wave. She smiles genially back, waving you off and turning to face another group of SHIELD agents.

Once you and Steve reach the dancefloor, it’s obvious that Tony has watched the whole situation go down; he’s changed the music to something slower and a little more jazzy. Steve, almost on instinct, pulls you into his arms, pressing you close to his body. The scent that hits you has you instinctively leaning into him. It’s crisp and woodsy and smells like pine but also like clean linen and him. His hands frame your waist and your arms loosely wind around his neck, and the both of you sway to the smooth swing of the music.

“You’re quite light on your feet, Captain,” you wink at him, far more comfortable because it’s just the two of you. You feel the laugh that passes through him and you admire the little lines around his eyes when he’s like this.

“What can I say? I’ve had a lot of practice,” he grins cheekily. You raise an eyebrow and the grin spreads wider.

“Got a line of people at your door, Mr. America?” You tease, smirking slightly but also somehow scared of the answer.

He laughs again, twirling the both of you before stopping to look you square in the eye. You’re taken aback by the intensity of his gaze and your heart stutters.

“Perhaps,” he shrugs. “But I’m never there to notice… I’m too busy knockin’ at someone else’s door.”

You can feel it - the acute pain in your chest and the exact moment that your heart sinks. The little tickle in your nose warns you of impending tears and you sniff to try and rid yourself of the feeling. Your logical brain is telling you not to be dumb and jump to conclusions, but the monster’s green eyes are full of rage. It whispers that all he really wants is Sharon and he’s just being polite, dancing here with you.

“Oh,” you reply, trying your best to appear jovial when you can feel your heart breaking. “That’s cool. I’m sure she’s great.”

It’s a marvel that your voice doesn’t break.

He gets a dreamy look on his face and replies, “Yeah, she’s really something. Smart, hilarious, pretty… God, so goddamn beautiful. The way that I feel about her... I haven’t felt like that since Peggy.”

He looks directly at your face but you can’t tell because you’ve averted your face to the side, too busy trying to control a rapid onslaught of tears. Damn Tony, feeding you all these fanciful ideas.

“Well, she’s a lucky girl.”

That’s all you manage to get out before withdrawing from his arms and quickly striding towards the exit.

---

In the elevator, you try your best not to break down - because that’s not classy - and press the button to your floor. Taking deep breaths with closed eyes, you fail to notice when the elevator stops and Bucky gets on.

“Doll.”

Your eyes shoot open and your head whips over to look at him. He wasn’t really all that keen to party and it shows. You can tell that he’s been training.He’s sweaty - his hair is slick with it - and he’s only wearing black basketball shorts and trainers, his metal arm on full display. You’re relieved that he’s the one that’s caught you like this. You and Bucky forged an unlikely friendship upon his arrival to the compound. Steve was overjoyed that his best friend had somebody else to talk to, as he was scared that he wouldn’t be able to relate to anyone else. You can easily consider him one of your closest friends, meaning that he also knows about the Steve situation.

“Hey, Buck,” you manage to breathe out, trying for a small smile.

“What happened? You’ve been crying.”

You scoff, trying for indifference, “No, I haven’t-”

Bucky pins you with a look and you shut your mouth, looking slightly guilty. “Was it Stevie?”

Your silence seems to be enough of an answer for him and he sighs, moving closer to you to encircle an arm around your shoulders. You turn into his side, shoving your face into his neck and throwing your arms around his neck. Slightly caught off guard, he stumbles back, but quickly reciprocates the hug.

By this time, you’ve reached your floor so you move to pull back from him but his grip on your waist only tightens. Without any strain, he sweeps you off of your feet and lifts you right out of the elevator. You squeal in surprise, sniffing while Bucky walks you to your room.

“FRIDAY…” Bucky begins to ask, but it seems as if the A.I. already knows what to do as she unlocks your door. He walks you over to the bedroom, placing you down on your bed gently and taking your shoes off. Without a word, he disappears and comes back with makeup wipes, tissues, a glass of wine, and a bagel.

This makes you cry harder.

He hesitates in the doorway, looking at you with panic-flooded eyes. “Y/N, if you don’t want the bagel…”

You choke out a laugh and beckon him closer, shaking your head. He places the plate and Kleenex on your bed and hands you the glass of wine, grabbing a wipe to start taking off your makeup.

“Now, let me take care of you while you tell me what that punk did,” he begins slowly, starting to rub at your jaw.

You recount the story while sipping your wine, sniffing and choking at certain parts of the story. He shushes you quietly whenever he feels you struggling to speak and encourages you to take your time, all while continuing his work carefully. Once his job is done, he coaxes you to eat the bagel and sits next to you, rubbing your back gently.

“Look, Y/N,” he says. “Steve’s been incessant about how much he’s sweet on ya for the past couple months. I know he’s got a funny way of showing it, but I don’t think you shoulda run away from ‘im like that.”

You open your mouth to reply but are stopped by a voice in the doorway, “I second that.”

Tony’s leaning on the wall, that signature glint in his eyes full of mischief.

“Dad,” you almost whimper, voice raw from crying, and his face softens considerably. “Don’t bully me.”

“Hey, hey, baby cakes,” he comes to squat in front of you and Bucky. “Don’t get all teary-eyed on me. You know my little heart can’t take it. What are you so emotional for? Rogers has been looking for you since you left.”

Your mood perks up at that. “Really?”

He gives you a lopsided smile, “Of course he has. I know it’s not easy. You were doin’ a good thing out there, all confident and sexy and whatever. I was like wow, look at my girl go.” That makes you laugh. “But then you did that dumb little thing you do - you freaked out, honey. Got all impatient and confused and wouldn’t let him finish his cheesy ass speech.”

“He’s right, doll,” Bucky nods his agreement. “As much as he shoulda made it clearer to you what he was talkin’ about, you could’ve stayed just a little longer.”

You hide your face in Bucky’s chest in embarrassment as Tony grips your hand between his.

“Now, can I invite our favorite Capsicle in or are you gonna cry again?” the brown-eyed man in front of you teases.

“He’s outside?” the panic in you spikes again. Tony rolls his eyes and squeezes your hand reassuringly.

“Of course he is… loser,” he snorts derisively. You glare at him but he grins at you, telling FRIDAY to invite Steve in.

You can hear the soles of his shoes on the wooden floors of your apartment and you inhale deeply, straightening your back and pushing your chin up one more time.

He looks through with concern in his eyes and a sheepish look on his face. But he sees Bucky’s bare arm around your shoulders and something in his eyes changes for a split second; there’s an intensity there that you haven’t seen before.

Tony slaps his hands on his thighs before standing up abruptly, patting Bucky on the shoulder. “Alright, Manchurian Candidate. Let’s leave these two to it.”

Both men press a quick kiss to your forehead before heading out, closing the door softly behind them. As soon as they do, Steve stops his lingering at the door and rushes towards you, squatting in front of you like Tony was and framing your face in his hands. You blink rapidly, trying to process the close contact. Before you can think about anything else, his lips are on yours, completely catching you off guard.

They’re softer than they look and you melt into his embrace, his hands moving from your face to wrap his arms around your waist. He squeezes you gently and your hands cautiously come up to cup his face. It’s a soft kiss, despite the desperation in his movements, and you revel in the unspoken words shared between the two of you, communicated through feeling.

When it’s over, your lips are still tingling and he presses his forehead to yours, pecking your lips one more time.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he speaks quietly, almost as if he’s scared to interrupt the beauty and sanctity of the moment. “You know how I am. I get all tongue-tied talkin’ to dames already, but with you… God, it’s so much worse. I completely get why you thought I was talking about Sharon. She’s a great friend - she’s really been there for me - but she’s not you, baby.”

Your only response is a kiss pressed to his cheek and your fingers running through his hair. You sit like that for a little while, the silence stretching for several more minutes before you are composed enough to speak.

“I’m an idiot, Stevie,” you laugh, kissing his forehead this time. “I overreacted so bad… I’m so embarrassed by it. I should’ve just let you finish.”

He rubs your back comfortingly, “That’s alright, Y/N. You’re in touch with your emotions - that’s not a bad thing. But you’re my best girl - I don’t wanna see any more tears.”

He wipes away the remaining tears on your face and you smile cheekily at him.

“Your best girl?”

“Always, doll.”

tagged: @literaturefeen @donutloverxo

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers blurbs #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #marvel cinematic universe

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minizode · 4 years ago

Text

memory

pairing: jay / f!reader

wordcount: 3.3k

genre: angst, comfort

warning: breakups, evil management, hurt feelings, enhypen being crazy, jay is kind of an ass in the beginning, female pronouns

+ summary: jay breaks up with his girlfriend of two years. why?

note! hey! this is my first fic on kpop tumblr... i really hope you guys like it. i’m pretty bad at writing angst but i’ve had this idea in my head for such a long time that i really wanted to post it for more people to see! also this is in third person, so pls lmk if you’d prefer second person because i couldn’t decide

“y/n!” Jay called from the door.

Backstage was crowded with people bustling from left to right, preparing for the next performance. Jay stood tall and searched the crowd for the face of his girlfriend.

His saving grace, y/n’s bandmate, saw Jay and caught her attention, motioning her to the door where Jay was. She smiled and quickly maneuvered past the staff members to stand in front of him.

“Hey,” she smiled. “Good job on your performance, by the way, you looked really good up there.” She paused.“But why are you here? I have like… five minutes until I need to be on stage.”

“Thank you.” Jay nodded and pushed his hands into his pockets. “And I know, but Heeseung-Hyung said I needed to tell you this as soon as possible.”

“Okay! Can we just go over there? It’s really hard to hear you,” She motioned for him to follow her to a space behind some boxes of equipment. “Can you help me?” She said with the sweetest smile, and Jay felt his heart crack a little more down the middle. She held out the wires for her mic pack, which he took quickly and turned her around.

“So, we’ve been dating for a long time,” Jay started as he plugged the wires into the small black box on the waistband of her shorts. “You know, it’s almost our one-thousand days.”

y/n giggled and nodded. “Five more days, yeah.”

Jay took a breath and pursed his lips as he pulled her hair to the side, exposing soft skin on the back of her neck. He bit back every urge he had to rest his head there and adjusted her mic before turning her around to face him. “Well, don’t you think it’s been a little too long?”

y/n’s eyebrows furrowed together, surely ruining her makeup and creating creases. “What are you trying to say?”

“Just… don’t you think it’s time to focus on ourselves? We’re progressing with our lives and-”

y/n’s scoff cut him off. “Just say you’re bored of me, Jay. Just say it.” Her tone had taken a complete shift from what it had sounded like mere seconds ago.

“That’s not what I’m saying, y/n.” He sighed. “I just want you to be happy, I want to be happy too.”

“But I am happy,” she rebutted.

“Not as happy as you could be. Our relationship is the same routine, nothing new is happening. I mean, I’ve finally debuted… don’t you think it’s about time for us to move on?”

y/n let out a laugh of disbelief. “Is that not what a relationship is supposed to be? We’re supposed to be comfortable… and you didn’t seem to have a problem with that when I debuted.”

“We can’t be together forever, y/n. That’s just not realistic,” Jay muttered and pursed his lips. y/n shook her head.

“And I thought…” she sighed and ran a hand through her freshly curled hair, ruining that too. “Whatever. I don’t have time for this,” she said, turning on her heel and walking toward the entrance of the stage right as the staff called her name. “We’re over, Jay. Have a good life.”

And with that, she walked on stage, a perfectly crafted smile on her face.

Jay got back to his seat just by the time the music started.

“Did you do it?” Sunghoon asked with hesitancy.

Jay nodded and turned to the stage. Automatically, his eyes flickered towards y/n, as though it was an impulse. To any normal person, she would look fine. Happy, even. Her makeup didn’t look creased and her hair looked fine; she looked beautiful as always. She was smiling when she sang her part, she shone just as brightly as her other members. However, Jay knew her better than anyone; he could see the sadness mixed with anger in her eyes. But she was a professional, and as always, managed to mask her feelings with the factory manufactured expressions on her face.

“Was she mad?” Niki asked from beside Jay. He turned to Niki and shrugged.

“I think so.”

“You should have waited,” Sunoo muttered. “Telling her right before her performance was a dirty move, even for you.”

Jay scoffed, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Just as Sunoo opened his mouth to contradict, Jungwon placed his hands on both of their shoulders. “Stop fighting, guys. You can discuss all you want back at the dorms. Just not in public, people are watching.”

The other members watched Jay roll his eyes and turn his attention back to the performance.

The song was reaching its end; the climax, y/n’s part. She was singing with passion and fervor, Jay would even go as far to say that she sounded, and looked, better than ever. The tears in her eyes made it all the more powerful.

And then, just like that, it was over. Her chest heaved as she smiled at the camera. There was an emotion on her face that he couldn’t quite place, but it didn’t matter, because they were over. He would never see her face again.

y/n laid in her bed, watching the dust specks glide through the sunlight, landing upon her bedsheets. There, strewn upon them, was the black sweatshirt of Jay’s that reminded her of all the things she had a day ago. It reminded her of everything she lost over one simple conversation.

Part of her wished she had ignored him at that doorway; she wished she didn’t take him to a quieter area, she wished she didn’t ask him for help with her mic pack, she wished she hadn’t even let him speak. Maybe then, the conversation would’ve been saved for a better day.

She was confused; why did he break up with her? It was so out of the blue, so random. It hadn’t even occurred in her mind that they would ever break up. y/n had never experienced a break up before. Was it normal to feel this bad?

She knew, upon hearing her friends’ ailments, that it sucked. But y/n had never realized the true meaning of heartbreak until now. But she wasn’t crying… was she supposed to cry? Was she supposed to feel something? Right now, she only felt numb. Like she was a speck of dust floating in the cold winter sunlight and falling onto her bedsheets.

There was a soft knock on her door. Silence for a second, then another series of knocks, followed by the door opening. Due to the layout of her room, she couldn’t see the door, nor the person coming inside. She thought it was one of her members again, telling her to come to eat or drink some water, to go shower or use the bathroom, or even just get out of bed and change into something else to save her from wallowing in a well of sadness. What she didn’t expect, however, was the gentleness of the leader of Enhypen, one of her closest friends.

“y/n,” his voice was warm, just like the hesitant hand on her shoulder. “You need to get up.”

Her body turned so she could face him. He looked tired; dark bags under his eyes. His irises were lacking their usual stars, and his lips were pale. What happened to him?

“Are you okay?” were the first words that left her lips from last night. Her throat was dry, it felt like sandpaper. It showed in her voice; the scratchiness of it.

Jungwon sighed and sat on the edge of her bed. “This isn’t about me, noona. Minju called and told me you haven’t even gotten out of bed since after the show last night.” He brought his face closer to hers with his eyebrows turned down. “Did you even take off your makeup?”

She shook her head.

He sighed again. For a sixteen-year-old, Jungwon sighed more than a disappointed old man. “Please get out of bed. You’ll die at this rate.”

A hoarse giggle escaped her throat and she ran her hands down her face. “I think that’s a little overdramatic.”

“No, I’m serious! For real… I thought you guys would be able to take care of yourselves. Turns out a kid two years younger than you has to take care of you because you’re both too stupid to do it yourself.”

“Hey!” she sat up in her bed. “That’s rude, Jungwon.”

“You know what’s rude?” Jungwon said. “Ignoring your basic human needs and making the people close to you worried!” Jungwon never raised his voice, let alone at someone who was older than him. Was he really this worked up? “It’s nearly four P.M, noona. You haven’t eaten anything since last night. At least Jay-Hyung is doing better than you… at least he got up. Even if he’s so upset that he’s been playing games all day, at least he’s taking care of himself.”

y/n’s face twisted to annoyance. “Upset?” she scoffed. “Why in the name of God would he be upset? He’s the one who broke up with me.”

“You don’t think he feels bad?”

Silence engulfed the room. y/n had known Jay for three years, dated him for two. In all that time of knowing him, one thing was for certain; he always tried his best to not show his negative emotions. That was one of the things that tested their relationship almost constantly. He never told her when he was upset because he knew she would feel guilty for it. He never wanted to hurt her, even though it ended up hurting her more by finding out through other people. Even now, they experience the same thing.

“Then why did he break up with me?” y/n’s voice was small. “We were happy… at least I thought we were. He even planned a big date for our one-thousand days on Monday,” she didn’t realize her voice was shaking until Jungwon pulled her into a hug.

“I think the only way you’ll be able to figure out the answers to everything is if you talk to him yourself. I can comfort you, but you won't be able to get closure unless you talk to him.”

y/n pulled away and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t think I can get more upset than this so…” she trailed off. “Maybe it’s worth a shot? Besides, I have a lot of stuff to do and I can’t let this plague my mind anymore otherwise I’ll get in trouble with my manager,” she let out a teary laugh. Jungwon giggled with her and nodded his head.

“You can come with me back to the dorm. But only after you get ready and eat some food.”

y/n sat on the grey futon in the boys’ living room. She had been there several times ever since they had moved in, but something was different this time; Jay wasn’t sitting beside her. It felt wrong sitting on the center cushion without the warmth of a body beside her. Well, there were actually two boys sitting beside her trying to cheer her up, but it didn’t feel the same.

“He’ll be back in an hour or so,” Heeseung had told her. “He and Niki went out to get some groceries.”

y/n watched as Sunghoon chased Sunoo around the living room with a spatula that held a fried egg (one that y/n had actually cooked for them when she arrived. Why Sunghoon was chasing Sunoo rather than eating it was beyond her). Jungwon and Jake sat on either side of her, laughing at the ungraceful occurrence before them. Heeseung walked out of the bathroom and into the living room, running face-first into Sunghoon, who splatted the egg all over his shirt.

Amongst the commotion of y/n grabbing a towel to help Heeseung and Jake getting him a new shirt, the door opened and the two missing boys arrived in the apartment. Upon hearing Jay’s greeting of “We’re home!”, y/n frantically looked around the room for an escape. She resorted to hiding behind Sunghoon and Sunoo, who were bickering about who’s fault it was.

Too bad that Jay was as sharp as an eagle. He saw her the moment he and Niki walked into the living room.

The deafening silence that followed raised goosebumps on everyone’s skin. Jay looked over each of his members’ faces before finding the guilty look on Jungwon’s; a dead giveaway. Jay pressed his lips in a tight line before leaving the room, probably going to the kitchen to put away the groceries.

“Um…” Sunoo turned to y/n. “Maybe you should come back later… he looks like he’s in a bad mood,” he whispered.

“He’s only in a bad mood because Jungwon brought her here.”

“Well they need to talk, it’s not my fault he decided to end things that way.”

“He should’ve been more considerate of her feelings.”

Niki, who had been silent the entire time, walked over to y/n and opened his arms for a hug. It made her smile slightly. The youngest was always somewhat reserved around her. Maybe it was because she was a girl, or maybe it’s just because he didn’t know her as well as he would’ve liked. But he probably caught onto the fact that she wasn’t in a good headspace, and he was a good-hearted kid, so he just wanted to show her he cared.

“You should just talk to him now,” Niki said lowly. “Jay-Hyung!” he yelled, and all the other members looked at him in shock. “Come here!”

In seconds, Jay appeared in the doorway. The other boys looked around at each other before moving out of the way.

“We’ll give you guys some space,” Jake said softly before leaving the room. The others followed suit.

y/n stood in the middle of the room, looking at the patterned socks on her feet. Her large hoodie hung to her mid-thighs, covering the denim shorts she wore underneath. She was never too good at confrontation… it was scary and there were so many factors to consider. But she had to do it this time.

Jay stood in front of her and reached out to grab her hand, running his thumb across her knuckles, something he knew calmed her down in most situations. But right now, it only made her feel worse. Didn’t he hate her?

“What did you wanna talk about?” he said slowly, cautiously.

She breathed in quickly and looked up at him before speaking. “I just… I just need to know why. Why did you want to end things? Two people in love can’t just break up one day, you know? It has to have been some build-up. What was it? What did I do?”

Jay hummed and looked down at their connected hands. “I was going to just continue on the lie I told you back at the show but,” he paused and shook his head, looking back up at her. “I can’t keep lying to you. It kills me too much.”

y/n looked confused. “What does that mean?”

“You know how when I got the chance to be in the show, they didn’t really like the idea of us dating?”

She nodded, a signal for him to continue.

“Well, the company said that now that I’ve debuted, it’s an even bigger problem. It would be fine if you weren’t an idol, but you are. And they don’t like how famous you are compared to us, I guess?” Jay looked torn. y/n’s group was one of the most popular girl groups on the charts. “They think that people will find out about our relationship, and that will bring down our reputation, apparently.”

“Seriously?” y/n pulled her hand from his. “That’s… the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“I’m not lying, baby. I would never lie to you about this.”

y/n walked backward before sitting on the couch and putting her face in her hands. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, Jay. It’s just… that’s so stupid. Why would they make you break up with me now? Why didn’t they talk about this earlier? And why didn’t you just tell me? I would’ve understood.” She sounded hurt. Understandable, considering the words leaving his mouth. “I, of all people, would understand. I know how important this is to you. Don’t you think I would’ve listened if you just told me the truth?”

“I just thought that if I made up something, it would be easier for you to move on. Because now, you know I never lost feelings for you. I just can’t bring my group down incase anything ever got out to the public.”

y/n’s lips quivered. “So… so that’s it then?” her voice was threatening to crack. Her throat was tight and sore, and it felt like if she made one wrong move she would break. “We’re just going to end things like this?”

“What other choice do we have? I don’t want you to get caught involved with a scandal… That would ruin your career more than it would mine.”

She sniffled. “I just wish that things were different.”

“Hey,” he stepped closer to her. “Please don’t cry. It won’t be fair to both of us.”

He was right, as he always was. She couldn’t cry; it wouldn’t be fair. Because life was never fair to them. It pushed them to the extremes and they always came back intact, holding each other tightly so they wouldn’t lose the pieces. Like when her grandfather was sick, or when Jay had to move away. When they couldn’t contact each other for months, or when she got injured when he was gone. Life was unfair, but they had to make it through.

Her heart was unsettled, thumping weakly against her chest as she stared up at the boy. His platinum blond hair brushed over his eyes and she moved it away. He gently smiled down at her.

She wanted to close her eyes and pretend everything that happened was fake; she wanted to wake up from this nightmare of a reality. But she knows she can’t. So her eyes searched his face as she remembered everything they’ve done together; everything he’s made her feel. Her heart was shattering all over again, each piece a memory from her life with him that she would have to move on from. Each piece that she would have to pick up when he left because they were too valuable to be left on the ground.

But no matter what, y/n would not cry, because it wouldn’t be fair for Jay.

“Not crying.” she nodded her head. Tears pooled around the corner of her eyes. Jay could see them, and his heart trembled a little. But he has to do this, for both of them. It wasn’t fair, it never would be. They didn’t sign up for this when they signed those contracts. But this is what they needed to do, and upon seeing that she listened and supported him, he didn’t want to make it any harder for her than it already was.

Jay smiled a teary, broken smile. He sniffled and blinked away the tears beginning to sting at his own eyes. He nodded his head in agreement and reached his hand out to run his fingers through her messy hair. His heart wanted one thing, but his head told him something else. It would be okay for him to be selfish for a spare five seconds, right? It wouldn’t hurt, he guessed. So he leaned down and pressed a soft, sparing kiss on her lips. It was short, but it spoke more than a thousand words.

Please take care of yourself, please stay safe, stay healthy. Thank you for loving me, thank you for letting me love you. His soul tears a little when he pulls away, but he quickly holds himself together. He couldn’t break in front of her. It wouldn’t be fair.

note! ahh okay! that’s it that’s the end!! i actually really dislike this, now that i’ve read it over and over again. i’m not too good at this type of stuff, but maybe i’ll get better in the future. i hope you guys liked it, at least a little, and it wasn’t a waste of your time. @nico-nico-niki , since you wanted to be tagged <3

#jay x reader #park jay x reader #jay park x reader #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #park jeongseong x reader #jeongseong x reader #enhypenwriters

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pyox1 · 5 years ago

Text

A Team Effort - Liu Yangyang

When you learn from your teacher that the biggest project of the year will be a team effort, you can’t help but grow frustrated. Yet again, you’ll have to give double the efforts for an assignment that’ll be signed by two names that haven’t done anything close to equal work. You can’t help but be pleasantly surprised when you find out your partner is actually a fairly decent person.

Genre : Stranger to lover au, fluff

Pairing : Liu Yangyang x reader

Word Count : 3,2k

This goes out for the anon that requested a stranger to lover au with a shy yangyang confessing. Hope you like it <33

It had all started when you had been assigned to a project with a name you weren't familiar with. Your teacher had decided on making the biggest project of the year a team effort, which you found to be ridiculous. Your grades were something you were proud of; not like the usual student that attended your school. Even if you were in enriched classes, the vast majority of the class couldn't care less about their academic performance. All from rich families with contacts in almost every field, they didn't have to worry about studying, knowing their dream job was already waiting for them.

When your name had been called after the one of Liu Yangyang, you were everything but happy. You wanted nothing more than to be able to work by yourself, without having to constantly drag someone behind you, only to get a passing grade.

Not knowing much about the boy, you had been reluctant to meet up with him. You could already imagine how your first meeting would look like. Awkward silences followed by ideas the both of you wouldn’t agree on, and even more awkward silences. You had already come to the conclusion that you would have to do the work on your own.

Surprisingly, it had gone well. He had arrived ten minutes earlier than planned, with arms full of notebooks. You clearly remembered how he approached you with a warm smile since you were expecting the complete opposite.

"(Yn), right?" He asked, to which you nodded. "Hi, I'm Yangyang. I'll say it right now, I'm so happy to be paired with you. Now I won’t have to worry about Lucas leeching off my back for good grades." Relieved flooded through you. You let yourself relax into your chair as he sat down next to you.

"Okay, so, I did a bit of research this weekend since I had free time. I hope that’s okay with you." He said flipping through pages, already immersed in the work. To say you were in awe was an understatement. You couldn’t believe he was real. "Uh, hello?" He waved his hand in front of your face.

"Yes! Sorry- yes. It’s perfect." You said, trying to hold back a blabbering mess from spilling. "I just… I didn’t think I'd be paired with someone so enthusiastic."

"Is… that a bad thing?"

"No!" A loud shush resonated through the library. You swallowed nervously, repeating lower. "No, it's a great thing." Yangyang stared with a playful glint in his eyes.

"Good. I was joking by the way." With that, he continued explaining his ideas as if nothing happened. Your mind couldn’t process the situation. First off, you had been teamed up with a decent person. Well, decent was underplaying it. He seemed hard-working, interested, and even… kind? You concluded the next few weeks weren’t going to be so bad after all, and you were right.

In fact, the first few meetings in the library had gone so well that Yangyang had invited you to work over at his place instead. He had tried convincing you by saying that you’d be able to share your ideas more freely without the constant death stares of the librarian.

"Plus, I have an amazing variety of snacks and drinks at my place."

"Mmmh, I'm not sure if I'm convinced." You said with a teasing frown.

"Well, I also have a hot older brother that you can swoon over while you're pretending to listen to me." You through a pencil his way, trying to distract him from the blush that was slowly glazing your cheeks.

"You’re an idiot."

"I'll take that as a yes. We can walk there tomorrow together after school." and that’s exactly what you did. Walking down the streets of the neighborhood felt comfortable with him. The conversation flowed naturally, with jokes and teasing being the main elements. It was as if you had known him for a long time.

After walking through his front door, you immediately complimented the nice home. He had laughed a bit, promising to tell his mom. He assured you that it would bring her over the moon. You smiled thinking about Yangyang talking to his mom about you.

If you had thought that studying at his house would be a good idea, it had turned out to be a horrible one. Without the constant supervision of the librarian, you and Yangyang were left on your own. Almost no work was done that night. Instead, you discussed your favorite shows, meals, hobbies, and much more. You quickly realized you had a lot in common and that you liked being in his company. You hoped he felt the same way.

The rest of the week was spent forming a pattern. With you walking side by side with the grinning boy, arms occasionally touching each other. It was such a banal touch, but it still got your heart pumping faster. You were getting more at ease in his presence.

You had spent every afternoon over at his place. Sometimes you even forgot the main reason you were over, too occupied talking about anything and everything. It was so out of character of you to avoid finishing your school work, but here you were, captivated by the words of a boy you barely knew.

You usually left before his mom got home, trying your best to avoid any uncomfortable introductions. Each and every time, he’d walk you out with a twinkling smile and a promise to see you again tomorrow.

You always felt on cloud nine while walking home, reminiscing over every little detail that had stained your mind. For example, when his finger brushed against yours while reaching for the same pen at the same time. Or when he’d compliment your makeup and your clothes, although already seeing you that day.

Those small moments brought out the cliche school girl in you. You wanted nothing more but to stay in a constant state of daydream, with these little bits of souvenir being its main plot.

God, you were such a hopeless romantic. One more step and you were about to write his last name with yours in a journal.

It was only on Friday night that you told yourselves you needed to concentrate at least a minimum on the project due in a week. The both of you putting your mind at work for once, you had completely forgot about the time ticking by. It must had been around 6 o’clock when a little girl appeared in the dining room.

"Yangyang?" The girl called out. She could only be his sister, you assumed.

"Yeah?" She shyly walked up to him.

"Mom was wondering if your girlfriend was staying over for dinner." Shoot, you had overstayed your welcome. But wait... Were you hearing things right? Had she just called you his girlfriend?

"I don’t know, why don't you ask her." You felt as if you were on the edge of bursting. He stared at you intently, a smirk plastered on his lips. The girl inched towards your side of the table.

"Will you?" Her eyes held a hopeful glint.

"I- I, yeah. I mean- yes, sure." The little girl's smiled grew as she excitedly exited the room. You didn't dare to say a word until the sound of her skips resonated further in the house. "What was that about?"

"She wanted to know if you were staying over for dinner." He answered, unbothered, his attention glued to the screen of the laptop in front of him.

"Huh? Yeah, I got that part." You tried formulating your next words without sounding like an idiot. "She called me your…"

"You'll have to speak up if you want me to understand anything you're saying." He was playing dumb, you thought. Unless he was actually dumb but that couldn't be right. You crossed paths with a lot of stupid people in your life, and Yangyang wasn't a part of them.

Shaking your head, you let out a small laugh. It had probably just slipped out of his sister's mouth by accident. She probably called all of his female friends that and it just went over his head.

"Nothing. Don’t worry about it." You still weren’t sure if he was messing with you. He probably hadn’t heard it. Looking back at him, you swore you could’ve seen a look of disappointment flash on his face. You instantly tried lightening up the mood.

"Didn’t you tell me you had a hot brother?" You took the snicker he let out as a success.

"I only have a little sister… How else was I supposed to convince you to come over?" Definitely not the answer you were anticipating.

"Oh… I see." Silence followed. You had no idea how you were supposed to answer. You continued writing down on your paper until his voice interrupted you.

"The rosy cheeks is a good look on you." That's when you officially knew that Liu Yangyang would be the death of you.

After the dinner you had spent with his family, you felt that you couldn’t get closer to the boy. It was crazy to you that you barely knew of his existence a week ago.

His sister had shown herself to be way less timid at the table, blabbering her day away to you. You had listened carefully, adding jokes, where you thought, was necessary, earning high pitched giggles from the girl. You hadn't noticed how Yangyang was carefully watching the interaction.

His mom also noticed the way her daughter had opened up so easily to you. She also had caught the way her son's smile formed as he talked with you. She hadn't seen his smile get that big in a while. Peacefulness invaded her mind. She automatically knew that you were going to positively influence him.

When the dinner was finally over, you took the time to thank his mom for her kindness and the meal. You helped clean the table while the overjoyed girl insisted on showing you her doll collection.

"Don't bother her dear," Her mother tutted. "Y/n will have to go home now.” The girl crossed her arms, displeased with her mom.

"Yangyang, why don't you walk her up to the door?" Her mom sent you a wink, assuring you that you didn't have to clean up. She made it clear that you were welcomed whenever.

Arriving at the front door, the boy cleared his throat. "Sorry for my sister and my mom, they're a bit intense."

"Don't worry, they're super nice. I might come back next week just to see them again."

"Not me?" He let it out as a joke. He would have never admitted to it out loud, but he also wanted to see how you'd react.

"I think we've seen enough of each other for a while now, don't you think?" You teased back. He shrugged, his hands hidden in the pockets of his pants. Any trace of sarcasm had left him.

"It's nice spending time with you." He admitted. Your breath got caught in your throat. The expression on your face said it all. He took it as a win. "See you next week then."

The weekend succeeding that Friday night felt like the longest you had ever lived. Confined between the four walls of your bedroom, the minutes felt like hours. It was the first time you could remember being bored alone. Usually, you’d love having time to yourself, but now it seemed so pointless.

Still, an idea popped into your mind. You could take some advance on the work. That way, you'd get more time with the boy without this stupid project butting in.

“I’m such a genius.” You had mumbled to yourself, tipping furiously away on your computer. Even then, the subject had become dull and boring. You huffed and puffed through a few paragraphs before coming to a realization.

You wanted nothing more then to be in Yangyang’s presence again.

That’s why when you got to school Monday morning, the first thing you did was to scan the hallways, in search of his brown locks. When you had finally landed on his tall figure, putting his books in his locker, you felt an instant boost of happiness. Clutching the straps of your backpack, you walked up to him.

"Good morning!" You chirped. In response, he laughed gingerly. He was wearing a black hoodie and black jeans. It might not have been the finest fashion, but he shined in whatever clothes he was wearing.

"Someone seems to be in a good mood." You couldn’t even let his teasing get to you, too happy to finally see his charming face again.

"Your place tonight? I found more information, I think we might almost be done with this project!" The intentions behind your words were to be encouraging, but Yangyang had taken them like a blow to his guts. He didn’t want this project to end this fast. You, on the other side, we're working on the side to finish it quicker. Maybe he had read this wrong.

"Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you at the end of the day when the bell rings." With no other words, he walked further in the sea of students. You stood in the middle of the hallway, a pit forming in your stomach.

Something was wrong. You hadn't known him for long, but it had been enough time to know that the lack of emotion in his voice was not normal. You disparately wanted to run after him to know what was wrong, but ultimately decided against it.

You shouldn't have to push any information out of him. If he had something on his mind, you believed he'd come to you to discuss it.

In the meantime, you had continued your day as normal. It had gone by longer than usual, the itching thought of an upset Yangyang never quite leaving your mind alone.

As promised, when the last bell ranged, he was waiting beside your locker. The walk was different that afternoon. You had tried the usual small talk, but his answers were cut short. Even when you had thrown a few jokes, his reaction had stayed the same; serious and thinking, almost.

Arriving at his house, you were already making your way to the dining room until he grabbed your hand, stopping you from walking any further.

"Is it okay if we study in my room this time?" He asked. It was the first real sentence he had spoken to you in the last hour. His voice had a hint of a plea in it.

"Aren’t we going to finish the work in the dining room like we usually do?" The boy let out an exasperated sigh. There you were again with your fixation on finishing the project.

"Is that all you care about? Finishing the project and then going back to what it was like before?" He said, his grip on your hand tightening, almost as if he was scared you were going to disappear into thin air.

"Yangyang… I have no idea what you're talking about." He signed again.

"Can we please just go in my room, I’d prefer having this conversation in private, out of prying ears." He gestured to the side with his chin. You looked over to catch sight of his little sister's curious eyes peeking from the living room.

You agreed, following the boy in silence, your hand still in his. Entering his room, he closed the door behind him. His eyes wouldn’t leave the floor.

"Look, I know that you only care about the assignment at this point and all you want is to end it as quickly as possible, so here's what I suggest. I can finish it myself and you won’t have to come back-" You rapidly cut him off.

"Stop rambling, I won’t let you finish this thing alone." He had been bottling up his thoughts for the whole day and now they were coming out like word vomit. He bit his lip, annoyed with himself.

"Look, what I guess I’m trying to say, is that you don’t have to spend time with me anymore. It’s okay, I won’t take it personally." You held his arms as if to shake him out of his weird thoughts. His eyes finally met yours.

"I don’t know who or what made you think I didn’t want to spend time with you but it’s the complete opposite. I want to finish this project to spend some time with you, you idiot." Right away, you felt himself relax in your hold.

"So that’s why you continued working without me this weekend?" His tone was suddenly much gentler.

"Of course it is. This weekend felt like an eternity to me. The least I could do was to take some advance to spend some time with you doing literally anything else." The boy felt all his worries wash away. You knew exactly what to say for him to feel better.

"I’m glad I’m not the only one who thought those two days were abnormally long." You broke into a giggle. His expression quickly returned to a serious one.

"Y/n… I have to tell you something." You nodded, encouraging him to continue. " I- um, this is kind of hard to say."

He started playing with his fingers, trying the find a good way to deliver his feelings. You would’ve never thought you would get to see the boy grow so nervous. It was the first time you saw him stumbling over his words. Normally, you’d be the one in that position. You found the situation quite amusing.

"Stop smiling," He whined. "I’m trying to be serious!" You pressed your lips together, repressing a laugh.

"Sorry, sorry, go on." He walked around his room for a while before taking in a big inspiration. He stood in front of you, standing as still as a statue.

"I like you, Y/n." He said. His confession was remarkably anticlimactic that you couldn’t help but be confused.

"I like you too…?"

"No, you’re missing the point." He bit the inside of his cheek. " I like you, like you. I like the way you laugh or the way you’re so serious about your studies. I like your smile, your eyes, your nose, the way you giggle, or the way you roll your eyes when I say a stupid joke. I want to spend all of my free time with you. But most importantly- I want you to be my girlfriend." Your hands reached for his face, cupping his cheeks gently. He closed his eyes at the contact, his hands coming to layover yours.

"You’re in luck then, because I’d really like for you to be my boyfriend." You didn’t leave him the time to answer, instead choosing to press your lips carefully against his. He hummed, his hands diverting to your neck. His thumbs threw circles on your skin as he deepened the kiss.

His tongue swiped on your lip, to which you gladly let access into your mouth. Shivers ran through your body, the closeness being almost intoxicating. When he backed away for air, your lips mindlessly followed his, to which he chuckled, resting his forehead against yours. His lips landed one more time on yours, in a quick and chaste way.

"Don’t worry, when we finish this project, we can do all the catching up we have to do in that subject."

Aaand it's done! This is my longest work yet and I'm super proud of it.

Thanks to everyone who took the time to read it. Feedback is always appreciated:)

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