#I keep telling her he looks like that guy from despicable me but she didn’t appreciate that so she made her oc kick rileys ass in dueling

[arrozconlecheeee]

Some doodles I did for my friend

[hufflegruff]

girl the way i RAN when i saw you asking for requests as a break from a knowing look!!! if youre down to maybe do something like hurt comfort vibes? with sebastian x MC? like mayhaps they’re fighting and MC gets hurt and protective Sebastian comes out? literally in love with everything you’ve written!!! you’re amazing! <3

I was meant to write a drabble but somehow this became a NOVEL?! Good lord. I really wanted to do it justice!!! I hope you guys still enjoy it!!!

It takes a disaster

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Word Count: 5k Contains: Fluff, angst, making out!!! Requested: The lovely @ithinkweallsing and @musicbecky had similar requests about protective Seb x hurt MC so I combined both :)

Summary:

“And why didn’t you think to tell me that you were struck by a bloody unforgivable curse before you fell lifelessly onto the fucking floor!” He yelled. She winced at the loudness of his voice.  “Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch the love of your life almost die in your fucking arms?” His deafening voice echoed through the chambers of the hospital wing.  She stared at him, mouth agape.  Sorry, was she dreaming? What was that he just said? 

It takes a disaster

When she first resigned to the pitiful fact that she was very likely in love with Sebastian Sallow, she accepted her fate. Doomed to suffer in an unrequited love she held for her best friend. 

Merlin, it was such a cliché. 

Honestly, she would have laughed at herself if it didn’t also feel so pathetically miserable.

Somewhere along the way, amid catacombs and restricted sections and ancient relics, she found herself becoming dissatisfied with just friendship. And before she could even catch herself, she had already fallen. Buried ten feet underground by the weight of her own despicable, cavernous feelings. 

Because they’d been best friends for long enough for her to know that Sebastian Sallow flirted like his livelihood depended on it. If courting witches was a sport, he’d be a professional. It came to him as naturally as breathing. 

That was why Cressida Blume battered her eyelashes so feverishly everytime he was near. And why Samantha Dale had been so Goddamn adamant on being her potions partner, so she could siphon hints on how best to charm the Slytherin for herself.

And why she would never entertain the idea that any of Sebastian’s pretty words could be anything more than lip service. 

So she went out of her way to find reasons to keep herself busy. Taking jobs and doing favours for townsfolk in the vicinity, so that she wouldn’t have to sit with her own feelings. Or Sebastian himself. Hoping that by the time it came for them to leave Hogwarts, that she would find peace and leave her feelings for him in the deepest depths of the castle. 

The distance would help. It just had to. 

Unfortunately for her, when she had said that she was heading to the poacher camp up in the Poidsear coast by her lonesome, Sebastian insisted that he absolutely had to come along.

“Don’t be daft. Of course I have to come with you. Who else is going to swoop in when your sorry arse needs saving?” He teased.

She was almost offended, “I don’t need a babysitter, Sebastian.”

“Not a babysitter,” he clarified, “A knight in shining armor,” with a dashingly flirtatious smile.

She felt her heart flutter, and cursed his annoyingly perfect fluffy hair for it. What business did it have looking so attractive? Honestly, the cheek of these Slytherin boys to say such rousing things.

Ominis, Sebastian and herself had been lazing in the grass in front of the main school grounds. But with a deft wave of his hand Seastian beckoned over his broom, and it zipped obediently over. 

“Come on. Let’s go.” Sebastian said easily.

“What? Right now?” She replied in disbelief.

“Well, I don’t see anything better to do. Do you?”

From beside him, Ominis piped up annoyed, “Um, excuse me. Did we not agree that we needed to finish our group project today so as to not suffer the wrath of Sharp’s horrid temper?”

Silently, she thanked Ominis for the diversion and prayed Sebastian would take it.

“Like I said. Nothing better to do.” Sebastian reiterated shamelessly. 

Ominis rolled his eyes, “Absolute moron you are. Whatever. Take him off my hands for all I care.”

Well that didn’t go at all the way she hoped.

“But I’ve… not even stocked up on my potions.” She said weakly.

Sebastian wasn’t having it.

“Come on, it’s just a routine poacher clear out! I’ve got a couple of Wiggenwelds on me. You know it’s going to be a cakewalk for the both of us.” 

She could never say no to him. Not when he looked at her like that. She imagined that most girls couldn’t either. An ugly, decrepit feeling bubbled up in the pit of her stomach. But she willed herself to push the unhelpful thought down and out of sight. 

“Fine.” She caved with a haughty flip of her hair, “But try to keep up. I don’t want to have to take care of you out there.”

In a ridiculously exaggerated display of chivalry, he offered her his hand and led her onto the broom with a coy smile.

“Ladies first.”

This boy was going to be the death of her. The ride to Poidsear would all but confirm that. 

Sebastian had insisted that she sit in front of him to steer — and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand how she had willingly agreed to put herself in this position. His breath was right in the crook of her neck, and his warm hands were wrapped all too tightly around her waist. Did he really think that she could steer like this? She was appalled at how totally inconsiderate he was by being so oblivious to her feelings. 

She could hardly hear her own thoughts — not even the intrusive ones — let alone focus on the fly.

Was he doing this on purpose? Because it was annoying.

The singularly, most vexing thing he could do in fact. She had a mission to concentrate on. She didn’t need to be sidetracked. She hadn’t even wanted him and his distracting face to come along in the first place.

“Merlin. Hold me any tighter and I might burst, Sebastian.” She tried her best to make it sound casual. With the light cadence of a joke, and not the high stakes affair it felt like.

“Well, I can’t risk having you falling to an untimely death under my watch. I’d never hear the end of it from Ominis. Or Samantha. For killing her potions partner at such a crucial time in the academic year,” He joked. 

His tone was teasing, but she hated that his words sounded so… carefree. Completely unbothered. It bruised her heart more than she liked to admit, but it hurt her to know that he probably thought that this was the same as being in close proximity to Anne. 

And why the bloody hell did he have to mention Samantha Dale at a time like this? Unprompted and all. Teenage boys really had no tact. If that had been a glimpse into Sebastian’s mind, she didn’t want to see it. Lock it up and throw away the keys and unleash it into the depths of the black sea to never be found. 

If she just ignored it, and never faced it head on, maybe her heart would break a little bit softer. 

“Right.” She replied curtly, willing the dejection she felt to go away.

“What? Did I say something wrong?” 

“No.” 

He paused in contemplation, before declaring, “You’re upset.”

He had said it so matter of factly she almost couldn’t disagree with him. Almost. She cursed herself for not being able to hide the bitterness in her voice better. She cursed him for noticing this of all things.

“Don’t be silly. I’m not.” She retorted harshly.

When the words left her mouth, she quickly regretted them. She felt guilty for how unnecessarily rude it sounded. But she couldn’t talk about this. There was objectively no good way to explain why she seemed so irrationally bothered without emotionally vomiting her feelings onto him.  

But before she could apologise, he chose to let it go. 

And she didn’t know if she felt relieved or even more devastated.

The rest of their journey to Poidsear was endured in silence. When they finally arrived, they landed just at the precipice of the poacher camp. It was time to get serious, she mentally chided herself. There was simply no time to torment herself with such frivolous nonsense.

They kept out of sight behind a mountain of crates next to a tent. Making sure to stay hidden, she briskly surveyed the scene. She could see from the corner of her eye, a family of hippogriffs chained in cages by the Eastern front. But getting to them would be no easy feat; the area was littered with Ashwinders at every corner. 

“God. There’s more of them than I thought.” She whispered to herself.

“Worried? How very unlike you.” Sebastian raised a brow in response.

“Not at all. It’s just you would think that these degenerates would have more productive things to do with themselves than taking magical creatures as prisoners.” She whispered with a scoff.

She had not even one ounce of respect for the Ashwinders, especially those of the poaching variety. Those who made a nefarious career out of hunting innocent, majestic creatures for blood sport were the worst of them.

To her surprise, when she turned to look at Sebastian, he was looking straight at her with an enigmatic smile.

And then suddenly, she felt self-conscious.

“What?” She whispered nervously.

Sebastian murmured warmly, “This is a little nostalgic is it not?”

“How so?”

“You. Me. The exhilarating thrill of getting caught at any moment. Feels like fifth year doesn’t it?” His voice was lower than usual, quieter, with a hint of something dastardly alluring. 

It made her heart skip an alarming amount of beats and her skin shiver at the sound of it. She felt an outrageously girlish impulse to snog him and hex him and run far, far away from him all at once. What she would give for him to have a taste of his own medicine. Even if he wasn’t in love with her, maybe she still could grab him by the collar and kiss him silly until his lips were bruised. 

Maybe that would finally fluster him. 

Because by God, he deserved to be put in his place for all the bloody grief he unknowingly gave her.

He was looking at her so affectionately, and that was just so uncalled for. Honestly, she didn’t know how he managed to flirt so skilfully even in the face of imminent danger. In the near vicinity of bloodthirsty dark wizards. If she wasn’t so conflicted by it all she would be impressed. She imagined that Sebastian Sallow could probably flirt with Death himself and get away with it. 

Perhaps that would be a rather useful quality in an Auror. Perhaps, when they were back in the safety of the castle, she would suggest it as a fitting career path for him—

“Look what we have here. A little far from Hogwarts aren’t we?”

She felt her blood freeze over at the sound of the new voice. Sebastian stiffened. A sinister chill ran up her spine.

When she turned, she was greeted by the menacing smile of an Ashwinder, cloaked in shadows. And almost as if the Hermes had struck her himself, the girl wonder retaliated at reckless speeds and pointed her wand with venomous hostility at the dark wizard in front of them.

Fuck. She cursed internally. Her guard had been irresponsibly down. She hadn’t even heard him approach them.

Sebastian probably sensed her panic, and squeezed her hand twice.

Once to comfort her, the second to ask her to follow his lead.

Raising his hands up in mock surrender, Sebastian said sardonically with a wry smile “Sir, we were just passing by the area. We didn’t know that this was private property. Terribly sorry for the intrusion. If you allow us, we’ll be on our way now.” 

The Ashwinder scoffed, “Save it kid, I know exactly who you two meddlesome brats are.”

“Oh well that’s unfortunate.” Sebastian said patronisingly.

Her grip on her wand tightened. She wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this, but she knew that she had to be ready. 

“Why’s that?” The Ashwinder asked with a laugh.

“Because that means I have to do this.” 

And suddenly, with a swift motion, Sebastian lunged forward with his wand. And almost as if by blind, brazen instinct, her own hands followed suit. 

“Confringo!”

“Expelliarmus!”

“Protego!”

Red, green, and blue. The colours of their spells cackled at lightning speeds against the howling wind. 

But soon enough their commotion caused a ruckus, and it became an army against two measly bodies.

“Shit!” Sebastian cursed under his breath.

And frankly, she had to give it to them to their credit, these Ashwinders proved to be pretty formidable adversaries. They moved faster than the others did. And their spells missed her more narrowly than they normally did. But still, actually hitting her was the aim. Close enough wasn’t good enough, and she was determined to make sure that they would never achieve it. 

She’d make sure of it — they didn’t call her the girl wonder for nothing. 

Spells collided and echoed around her, the acrid scent of fire filling her nostrils. If peril were a smell, this is what she imagined that it would smell like.

And in the midst of the chaos, without a surge of power erupted from one of the Ashwinders. Like a strike straight out of God’s hand — with a single, severe flash of light — a calamitous spell was unleashed, enveloping the camp grounds in a sheathe of blinding white. 

And when the light became less blinding, she found herself separated from Sebastian. 

Panic welled up within her as she searched the battlefield, her heart pounding in her chest. 

"Sebastian!" She called out.

Where was Sebastian?

Fuck. That wasn’t good. She needed to find Sebastian. 

Like insidious tendril vines, fear crept into her veins. Yet she willed the anxiousness in her brain to focus; willed it to calm down. Sebastian was a capable wizard. He could handle a few pesky Ashwinders. 

Just as capable as she was. 

Because with a flick of her wrist, shields shattered and hexes were deflected. With every spell she cast, the wind sang as her curses hit bodies, like a force of nature answering her call. One by one Ashwinders fell under the weight of her unyielding assault. 

But then a piercing hex sliced right through her defences. 

Her protego shattered, and she was thrown backward into a mess of limbs onto the ground. 

“Crucio!”

The sound of the spell sent chills down her spine. It brought her back to the scriptorium. It brought her back to a shadow of Sebastian that she had been trying to forget. 

But before she could run, scream, dive or react — it reached her. 

And just as torturously as it had the very first time she endured it, pain erupted through her body as she was thrown backward, limbs contorting as she crumbled in agony onto gritty soil. Back then, it had felt as if lightning had struck every single nerve ending in her body. This time it felt like she was burning under a flame that was twice as brutal.

The pain was relentless. Her mind screamed for respite, for any brief release from this torture. She clawed at the ground, gripping her nails deep into the dirt, as if seeking solace in the earth itself. But there was no escape. No reprieve.

Through the haze of pain, she caught glimpses of the Ashwinder that had casted the curse. Even through her blurry vision, she could see that they were gloating. Content at how they had reduced her to nothing more than a writhing, broken vessel.

And God, that pissed her off immensely.

If they could sense the literal thunder in her veins, she wondered if they would be so cavalier?

She didn’t think so.

Through gritted teeth; through sheer determination, she struggled onto her feet with her body shaking in defiance. Summoned the last remnants of her ancient magic, her wand trembling in her shaky hand. A surge of energy flowed through her veins. The air above the tips of her fingers crackled with raw power as she channeled her magic, focusing it into a singularly devastating spell.

And when it hit the Ashwinder, it eviscerated them in waves.

In between all the fighting and screaming and surviving, she didn’t remember much of the details.

But all of a sudden, it was silent. 

And all of the sudden, it was just her standing alone in plumes of dust.

When the air finally settled down, she felt herself start to cave. The adrenaline had done its job and was quickly leaking out of her blood stream. As if she had exerted and drained every last ounce of her spirit and was on the verge of collapse.

Was it just her, or were the skies starting to fade?

The pain in her chest was still excruciating. This cruciatus curse felt different from the one that Sebastian had casted on her before. 

This one was lingering. 

Like it was clawing onto her heart and gripping onto it in a chokehold with a resentful vengeance. Despite having just won, she didn’t have a spare moment to feel relieved. The pain was quickly growing and air couldn’t seem to reach her lungs fast enough.       

But Sebastian… Where was Sebastian? The panic began to rumble within her. She had foolishly let her own guard down, and let him out of her sight. She mustered what little energy she had left and moved her head frantically in search of him. 

How could she ever forgive herself if she let him die? 

But when she saw a figure barreling head first towards her, even through blurry eyes and the crackle in the depths of her tired limbs, she knew that it was him. And like an oasis in the blistering desert, the comfort she felt from seeing his face was a brief solace to the pain. 

If this was where she was destined to meet her end, she hazily deliberated, at least she could draw her last breath in peace knowing that he was safe. 

(Not to be dramatic or anything.)

When Sebastian finally caught up to her, he laughed and bursted out breathily, “Merlin… Whatever you and your ancient magic did back there was insane.”

He was safe, and that was all that mattered. She didn’t have the energy anymore. Not for a conversation, let alone banter. She needed to preserve her last scraps of her battered stamina to make it back to the castle and patch herself up in solitude.

And one thing was for certain: Sebastian could not know.

“I think we managed pretty well.” He said with a tired smile.

“Yeah,” she replied breathily, “W-we did good.”

She sounded a mess. She hoped that he wouldn’t notice.

To her dismay, the look on his face immediately switched into that of deep concern. 

He interrogated hurriedly, “What wrong? You sound a little off. Are you hurt?”

Everything was wrong. The discomfort that gripped her chest was getting worse with every passing second. Standing was starting to become too taxing of an undertaking for her. 

But needless to say, she didn’t want another thing to worry about, and Sebastian would always make an unnecessarily big fuss anytime she was hurt. Even if it was just a minuscule scratch. He was always too distraught; too tender. It was one of the things she adored most about him. 

And she absolutely loathed him for it.

So her stubbornness was persuaded that suffering in silence was the easier of two fates. 

Indignantly, she retorted, “How rude. I’ll have you k-know I’m perfectly f-fine.”

Her words were starting to slur, not that she noticed. But Sebastian clearly had. Assertively, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her towards him.

“You’re not fine.” He declared demandingly.

As he frantically searched her eyes, arms, back, legs for signs of what was wrong, she found herself nuzzled in the nook of his chest. She felt her willpower wither slightly in his flustered hands. 

In the shallow breaths that she took, she could smell him. The musk of pinewood and sputtering fireplaces and late nights drifting in the restricted section. An aromatic cocktail that was overwhelmingly intoxicating. 

Now she was getting angry. And drowsy. And dizzy. Why couldn’t Sebastian tell that he was being so selfish by being so considerate? He needed to stop touching her so carelessly. She was lightheaded enough as it is, she didn’t need his excessive gentleness to add fuel to the flames of her absurd delusions. 

But maybe if she just closed her eyes and rested for this brief moment. Sebastian would take the hint and just leave her be. Maybe all she needed was a quick lie down and he would see that she was perfectly fine. 

“Oh fuck, there’s so much blood— hey, hey!”

She could see Sebastian calling out her name, but she couldn't hear it. And soon enough she realised, she wasn’t fighting it anymore. And soon enough, Sebastian was no longer in sight. Soon enough, she found herself alone in a quiet, soothing darkness. 

Something was twisting at her to give into slumber. Into solitude. Into emptiness. She vaguely remembered from one of Sharp’s more riveting lectures that when poisoned - one should always fight the urge.

But she could still feel the warmth of Sebastian’s hands on the small of her back, and the comfort of it lulled her to relinquish control. After a few ambivalent moments, drifting in and out of awareness, she surrendered to sleep.

When she woke, she was greeted by a horrendously pounding headache. She had no sense of place, but a low groaning ache in her bones. Her eyes struggled to open, but she could feel the warm sun on the tip of her nose, and the tips of her cheeks. The softness of the sun quelled a little bit of the soreness in her body. 

She deduced that wherever she was, it was warm and safe. Despite the ache in her bones, there was also a weightlessness to her body. Therefore, she somehow rationalised with herself that this was very likely heaven. 

Or any other religious equivalent afterlife. 

She wasn’t picky. Any one would do, really.

When her bleary eyes finally pulled themselves open, the fragmented parts of her vision pieced together a faint picture. Of pristine white linen and crisply casted grey brick. A peculiar blend of sickly artificial peonies and concentrated chemicals flooded her nostrils. 

Which was odd. Because she hadn’t imagined that the afterlife would feel quite so sterile.

“Fucking hell,” spoke a voice she could never not recognise, and she was shocked. 

Did heaven include conjuring up a phantom Sebastian from the figment of her deepest imaginations to keep her company for the rest of eternity?

“Sebastian?”

“You’re awake.” His voice was hoarse.

When her eyes finally focused, she saw him properly. It was definitely Sebastian Sallow, the boy that had her heart leaping acres across the Hebridean seas. But in all her years of knowing and pining for him, she’d never seen him look so terrible. His hair was disheveled as if it had endured a torrid storm. His eyes were heavy and solemn, as if they had tolerated an eternity of grief.

This seemed all too real. Too visceral. 

Maybe this wasn’t heaven.

“Am I dead?” She thought to confirm.

He laughed a humourless laugh.

“No. You’re in the hospital wing.”

So this was real. She was in pain because her body had been bruised like a peach. 

When she finally looked around, she found herself neatly tucked into the covers of an infirmary bed. She couldn’t recall how she got here, and only remembered a few little scraps of the event that led up to Poidsear. But if she had to be certain of anything, Sebastian must’ve brought her back to the castle.

“I guess that makes sense,” She said with as much mirth as she could muster, “Heaven couldn’t be this quaint.”

Clearly Sebastian hadn’t found it funny at all, which is why she was met with silence. 

As she cleared her throat, she asked, “What happened?”

For some reason, Sebastian was doing everything in his power to avoid her eye. 

“An Ashwinder hit you with a modified version of the cruciatus curse. She tampered the spell and combined it with a blood poisoning hex. You�� could’ve died.” He said through gritted teeth. It seemed as if he struggled to even get the words out. 

In an attempt to diffuse the graveness of his tone, she made a joke.

“Unlucky. Maybe next time they try to kill me they’ll actually get it right.”

But once again, Sebastian didn’t laugh. If anything, he only got more aggrieved. She felt his grip on the edge of her bed frame tighten so fiercely, she could see his veins pop and his knuckles turn red. He was being so serious — and she was not at all used to serious Sebastian. She had only seen this side of him once or twice, and only ever because of Anne. 

“Are you … upset?” She asked cautiously.

“I’m fucking furious.” He said. 

She was gobsmacked.

“Why?”

Finally, he looked at her straight on and her stomach flipped at the sight of it. He looked absolutely distraught. Like the splintered shell of a boy who had been cracked open and drained dry of his will to live. Behind the hard look in his eyes, radiated something cloudy, tempestuous and devastating. 

“It was my fault that we were even there.” He said

She hadn’t known that a voice could carry such grief and anger simultaneously. But Sebastian’s voice was laced with insurmountable despair. And it broke her heart irrevocably to think that she could’ve caused him so much pain.

Did he think that he was to blame?

That was ridiculous.

“I thought-” he started to say again, but his voice cracked. 

I thought I lost you? I thought I’d left you for dead? She wondered if that was what he was going to say.

“Sebastian…” She finally began “It’s not-”

“And why didn’t you think to tell me that you were struck by a bloody unforgivable curse before you fell lifelessly onto the fucking floor!” He yelled.

She winced at the loudness of his voice. 

“I didn’t think-”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch the love of your life almost die in your fucking arms?”

His deafening voice echoed through the chambers of the hospital wing. 

She stared at him, mouth agape. 

Sebastian himself looked shocked by the words out of his own mouth. 

Sorry, what was that he just said? 

Was she dreaming? Was she hallucinating? Had Sebastian Sallow really said that he loved her? Her? Complicated, chaotic, haphazard her? Even if her brain couldn’t quite process what she was saying, her heart had certainly understood. It was battering against her ribcage so firmly that she swore it would no sooner burst out of her chest.

“You… love me?” Even as the words sat in her mouth, even as she tasted it meticulously on the edge of her tongue — she still couldn’t believe them. 

With his head buried in his hands, Sebastian groaned. 

Obviously that wasn’t what he had wanted to say, and that terrified the living shit out of her. He looked as if he considered going back on it. Saying that it had just been an emotional slip of the tongue. 

But to her surprise, he stood firm. 

“Fuck.” He cursed, “Isn’t it fucking obvious?”

His words still weren’t fully sinking in. Her brain was running so fast that it was on the verge of failing her entirely. There were so many things she wanted to ask him. Was it obvious? To who exactly? By what egregious definition? And did he expect her to just take his word and say that this little detail was always hidden in plain sight for her to find? 

Then there were other more intrusive thoughts she couldn’t shake. Like what about all the girls that fawned over his every word. What about all the other girls that were softer, prettier, more endearing than her? She just hoped that whatever she chose to say, that she wouldn’t let out the intrusive ones first.

“...What about Samantha?” She blurted practically incoherently.

Oh Merlin. Why did she say that? Why was that the first thing she said to him after she had just been on the verge of death? After he had just confessed his love for her.

Never had she felt so exasperated with herself for being so dumb.

Unsurprisingly, Sebastian looked at her as if she’d just grown three heads. She also considered that maybe she had enunciated so poorly that he hadn’t understood a single thing she said. Either way, just as she was about to laugh it away - change the subject - he responded.

“... What about Samantha?”

Suddenly, she felt too shy to ask. But she knew she had to follow through.

“... You’re not in love with Samantha?” She asked meekly.

Sebastian stared at her in absolute disbelief. 

“Are you crazy?” he began incredulously, “You think I fancy Samantha Dale?”

It wasn’t that crazy of a thought, she wanted to retort. 

But before she could even get a word in, Sebastian bulldozed on.

“Fucking hell. I think I’ve mentioned her name all but three times in the last six years I’ve been in this castle. All I talk about is you all day everyday, which makes Ominis go absolutely livid! All you have to do is say my name and I’d stop everything at the drop of a fucking hat to do literally anything you ask for me—” 

Did he know what he was saying? She wanted to scream. The feelings in her chest were so intense she feared that she might just throw up. 

Could he hear the absolutely ludicrous and inconceivable things coming out of his silly mouth? Did he know what in Salazar’s name he was saying to her? 

And he wasn’t even done yet.

“—I look for you in every hallway, every classroom, every corner in this bloody castle! For Merlin’s sake, I can’t even begin to fathom how you could not know that I’m stupidly love with you—”

Despite herself. Despite the stabbing pain in her chest. Despite the stitches in her lungs. She lunged her body forward and pushed her own chapped, split and desperate lips onto his.

And when their lips met — good God. 

She had no idea how she had waited so long to do this.

And she hoped for his sake that Sebastian hadn’t said any of that lightly, because now that she had finally had him, she was never ever letting him out of her shaky, unpracticed hands. 

At first, Sebastian had been taken aback. His mouth unmoving, eyes open in disbelief. It was as if he was observing the scene from outside of himself.

But then soon enough — he was all in, and he had his hands cupping the curve of her cheek to pull her closer to him. Soon enough, Sebastian was kissing her like he was looking for something. Pushing, pulling, scouring the shape of her mouth like she was a puzzle to be deciphered. Gripping tightly onto the sides of her waist and the small of her back like she was a prized to be possessed.

And she obliged. 

Whatever he wanted to know she’d tell him. If she were a prize, she'd use every cheat every ruse in her arsenal to make sure he'd win.

She just hoped that her needy moans conveyed her willingness to be compliant in his competent hands.

Her limbs ached, her bones groaned. This kiss was too wild, too strenuous, too demanding for her worn out body. But she didn’t care. The floodgates had opened now, whether either of them knew it, and this feeling was unquenchable. 

He tasted like home and aftershave and salt and all those silly peppermint candies he ate all the time. If she could fasten herself to him with an irreversible stitch, she would. If she could seal herself into a perfect mould of his arms, she would. If the shivers that raced down her spine could etch themselves permanently into her nerve endings in her skin, she’d gladly bear the mark.

In between peppered, sloppy kisses, she managed to gasp, "I'm in love with you too."

There was no time for pauses. She had no use for breathing; no use for air. She had no use for anything that didn’t include his lips. 

His laugh was gravelly and tired and breathy. But it was filled with relief and tenderness all the same.

“Thank fucking god,” Sebastian murmured.

Her hands instinctively found their way to his hair, fingers tangling into the strands of his. She revelled in the texture of him. In her daydreams and her undisclosed fantasies, she had always wondered what it would feel like. Would he be as gentle as his charms implied? Or was he as abrasive as his words could be?

But despite his devouring intensity, despite how ardently he consumed her — everything about Sebastian was soft. His lips were soft. His body was soft. His hands were soft.

She leaned in to kiss him again, but he pulled back. Which immensely disappointed her. And she wasn’t shy to let it show on her face.

"Be careful. You're still recovering." He managed to get out, but it was weak.

Yes, that was true. It was very lovely and sensible of him to say.

But frankly, she couldn't give two fucks.

"I wouldn't mind dying today," she replied breathlessly, her voice laced heavily with longing.

He groaned into the edge of her mouth, "Way too soon."

She smiled wryly. Was it wicked of her to take delight in how protective he was being?

Silence hung in the air. 

"Please just... just be careful next time?" he said, his voice wavering slightly.

She looked into his eyes, "I will."

With a gentle squeeze of his hand, she hoped that he knew that she truly meant it. That by definition, her feelings for him meant that her assurance was very much real. Because if not with words, she needed him to know through this gesture that she too looked for him in every inch of this castle. That she too would drop everything at his beck and call.  

He squeezed her hand back in return.

Message understood?

“And as much as I’d love to keep kissing you," he whispered with a playful glint in his eye, "I would hate for Nurse Blainey to shun me from the infirmary for so shamelessly accosting one of her patients."

A soft chuckle escaped her lips, the tension easing between them. "You're right. We wouldn't want that," she replied, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

—

A/N: This is deffo a little different from the normal soft/simpy Seb that I write. I tried to go for overly flirtatious and wildly charming Seb and a pining MC this time to shake things up!! I still think they're cuties.

Gosh, I hope you guys liked it!! I'M STILL WORKING ON OTHER REQUESTS and of course my bb A Knowing Look! They will be taking a while but I promise I will be putting my heart and soul into them.

xoxo gruff

[literaryavenger]

Broken - part 5

Summary: You and Bucky keep bonding.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language. Innocent and broken Bucky. Mentions of Bucky's past and nightmares. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.2K

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

A/N: I decided on the ending for this story, and I have only one more chapter to go! Enjoy, the last one will probably come sometime tomorrow. Also, again, it's 4:30 am and I can't help myself lol.

Masterlist

Spending time with Cassie you couldn’t help but feel better.

The more you have fun and laugh with the little girl, the more you forget about your anger against the team.

It also helps that you spend most of the day away from them, eating lunch with Cassie and Scott, who you didn’t stay mad at for too long. To be fair to him you didn’t even know him when everything happened so you don't blame him too much.

As promised, Bucky comes looking for you as soon as he and Steve get back to the tower, finding you still on Scott's floor while you guys watch Despicable Me inside a huge blanket fort Cassie insisted on building in the middle of the floor of the living room.

Thankfully the other occupants of this floor, Bruce, Thor and Loki, are still in New Asgard. He’s just about to turn around and go back to his room when you notice him.

"Hey Bucky! Where are you going, how did it go?" he looks uncertainly at Scott and his daughter before answering.

"I was just gonna…" he trails off, pointing behind him towards the elevator.

"Nonsense, come here." you tell him, patting the seat next to you in the fort.

He’s a little hesitant, but slowly comes further into the room, sitting on the ground, leaving a little space between you.

You give him a smile that he shyly returns before you hear a little voice clearing her throat, which brings your attention to the little girl on your right. "Yes, Princess Cassie?"

"And who would this be, Queen Y/N?" Bucky’s a little confused by the interaction, but says nothing.

"This is Bucky. What title would you like to give him?" Cassie thinks about it for a second while staring very intently at Bucky, narrowing her eyes at him, and you can’t hide your amusement.

That is, until Cassie suddenly lands on a role for Bucky.

"He should be the King!" she says, looking from him to you a couple of times "You guys look good together." you’re about to say something, when Scott beats you to the punch.

"She’s right, I can see it." he says putting his hands up and looking through them to frame you and Bucky together, clearly much more amused than you are at the situation.

You sigh, knowing you can’t escape this. "Well, what Princess Cassie says goes. I’m sorry, King Bucky, you’re stuck with me now."

You turn to Bucky who's still very confused, and is now also starting to turn slightly pink, so you decide to explain.

"We’re playing make believe. Cassie is the Princess, Scott is the Jester and I’m the Queen. I’m sorry to inform you you’ve been crowned King of the castle." you gesture to the fort with your hands.

"And also Y/N’s husband!" Cassie feel the need to shout, making your head snap to her with wide eyes while Bucky turns even redder, your own face starting to change color now.

"He gets it, Princess." you try not to snap at her, she’s just a kid and doesn’t mean anything by it, but it’s still pretty embarrassing.

You see Scott snickering behind Cassie and glare at him as much as you can trying to go unnoticed by her, but Cassie's attention is on the super soldier now.

"You're going to play with us, right?" she asks him in a  sweet voice, making the biggest puppy eyes you've ever seen. She certainly knows what she's doing.

Bucky, who hasn't said anything until now, doesn't know what to do. He looks at you for help and you give him an encouraging smile.

He then looked at Scott, worried that the man might want Bucky anywhere near his daughter, but Scott simply nods his head with a smile.

Bucky relaxes a bit and turned his attention back to the little girl, trying to find the right thing to say.

"Of course I'll play with you. After all, the Princess’ word is law." Cassie starts giggling at the bow he gives her, and you're almost giddy at seeing this side of Bucky, more relaxed than he's been since he got here.

Granted, it was just a couple of days ago, but he seems to be making a lot of progress really fast, so far, just like Steve said after he hugged you yesterday morning.

You keep watching the movie, then the second one and you get halfway through the third when Maggie comes by to pick up Cassie.

So, with the promise not to finish the movie without her, you and Bucky say goodbye to all three and make your way to your shared floor.

"You were right, she really is adorable." Bucky says with a smile as you get into the elevator.

"I know, it’s pretty hard to stay mad at Scott when he lets me hang out with her." you smile back at him. "So, how did your meeting go?"

You see Bucky tense and feel a little bad. You really didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable, but you were genuinely curious and also wanted to support him. After all you know having a hearing isn’t certainly gonna be easy.

"I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to." You quickly reassure him and he seems to relax and gives you a nod.

When he doesn’t say anything else, you let it go. But Bucky had a question himself.

"Why are you ignoring everyone but me?" you sigh.

You don't blame him for being curious, you yourself are as nosy as they come. Always in a respectful manner, of course.

"I’m mad at them." You simply say. "They selfishly kept a pretty big thing from me. They made me feel bad, knowing they were lying to me. They’re my family, they should trust me more than this. I’ll get over it, eventually, but for now I’m happy avoiding everybody." you shrug. You know it’s kind of childish, but you also don’t care.

"Okay, I understand that… But why are you not avoiding me?" Now you’re confused.

"Why would I avoid you?" he bows his head in shame, not meeting your eyes as you exit the elevator and you already know you’re not going to like his answer.

"I’m the reason it all happened in the first place… it’s all my fault." You can feel the sadness in his voice, you can see he actually feels bad about causing this.

You, on the other hand, don't agree.

"Bucky," you start, stopping right in front of him, forcing him to stop too, looking up and quickly putting his hands on your arms to make sure you don't fall after almost colliding with you. "you can’t blame yourself for other people’s choices. Steve chose to help you, Tony chose to fight it, everybody else chose a side. None of it was on you. You didn’t ask anybody to do anything. So, please, stop feeling guilty."

Bucky looks at you silently for a few moments and you feel like he's searching your face for any hint that you might be lying, that you don't really believe what you were saying.

But he doesn't to find any so he nods and says "I’ll try." with his hands still on your arms and it's like you're suddenly registering just how close he is and how warm his touch is on your skin.

He’s about to say something else, when you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

Bucky drops his hands from you like they burned and you turn around, almost feeling like you got caught doing something wrong when you see Steve and Sam just standing there looking at you two.

Steve has that stupid grin on his face that he doesn’t seem to be able to wipe every time he sees you and Bucky together, but Sam looks more concerned than anything.

"Everything okay here?" he says and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his insinuation that something might be wrong just because you’re alone with Bucky.

You turn back to the brunette super soldier and smile at him "I’m gonna go to my room, I still have some reports to finish. See you later?"

You wait until he nods and then get on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek like this morning, smiling a little more when you back away and see a little pink hue coming back to his face, but with a smile nonetheless.

You turn around and pass the other two men without saying a word, hearing them sigh behind you as you walk away towards your room.

Maybe you’re being a little dramatic, but you don’t feel like forgiving anybody else just yet.

So that’s how you find yourself spending more and more time with Bucky.

It feels like you spent all your free time with each other, only being apart at night and when Bucky joins the team for dinner.

He tried to get out of it multiple times to join you when you would eat in the kitchen of your floor, but Steve insists that it would be better for him to be around the team, even if just for an hour a day, and you fully agree.

That, however, doesn’t stop him from joining you afterwards just so you won't have to eat alone, for which you're grateful.

Initially Bucky's pretty content just following you around like a lost puppy, a fact that Sam and Steve never fail to mention as it amuses them to no end.

But Bucky doesn't care, and neither do you as you enjoy each other’s presence, even in silence.

Bucky likes watching you go about your day, still amazed by everything you do and you like having him near you. It makes you feel safe.

Still, the more time you spent together, the more comfortable he feels around you.

The real turning point comes when one night you open your door to find a disheveled looking Bucky, and you know immediately that him knocking at your door at 3 am meant nothing good.

Which is confirmed when he sniffles and you realize he has tears streaming down his face.

Without saying anything you hold out your hand, which he instantly takes as he lets you guide him inside, shutting the door behind him.

You walk to the bed and sit down, hand still in his and, when he just stands there you tug on it, silently letting him know that it's okay for him to join you.

You expect him to sit next to you as he’s done countless times now while leaving a respectful space between you, always the gentleman.

What you didn’t expect is him crawling into your bed, taking you to lay down with him, and hugging you as tightly as he can without hurting you, his legs also wrapping around yours.

To say you're shocked right now is an understatement. You always made a point to keep physical touch to a minimum when it comes to Bucky, not wanting to do anything to make him uncomfortable.

But here he is, clinging to you like a scared little kid, crying his eyes out with his head buried in the crook your neck.

You wrap your arms around his shaking body, hugging him as tight as he is, rubbing his back to try and soothe him, whispering what you hope are words of encouragement in his ear. 

You stay like that for a while until he finally calms down and stops crying.

You don’t rush him to let go or to talk about it, letting him decide if and when he's ready to talk at all.

After a few minutes of total silence you think the poor guy cried himself to sleep, but he proves you wrong by moving his head away from your neck and placing it on your chest.

You feel him play with your necklace as he starts talking with a quiet voice that reminds you of the first day you met him. "I’m sorry, doll. I didn’t want to bother you, but I didn’t want to be alone and had nowhere else to go." and your heart breaks for him.

"Don’t apologize, Buck. You can always come to me, it doesn’t matter what time it is."

He looks up, looking at you like you hung the moon and stars just for him, and seems like he's about to say something else but thinks better of it, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times.

He settles for giving you a gentle squeeze and moving his head back to lay on you, but you don't need words to know he's grateful for your understanding.

He's seemingly unashamed of the way he's still clinging to you and you’d be lying if you said you mind being so close to him either.

You start running your hand through his hair, which he seems to appreciate, and, after a few more minutes of silence, he starts speaking again.

He tells you about the nightmares he’s been having ever since he escaped Hydra, and that tonight, after a particularly gruesome one, he just couldn’t stand being alone.

He doesn't go into too much detail about the dream but tells you enough for you to want to take a few firearms and track down every single person connected to Hydra so you can put as many bullets in them as you can carry, then light them on fire for good measure.

But, Bucky being your first priority, you stay where you are and try your best to comfort him, eventually changing the subject to keep his mind off the nightmare.

You talk until the sun comes up, birds chirping, but neither of you make a move to get up at any point, eventually falling asleep for a couple of hours in each other’s arms.

Part 6

Taglist: @aesthetic0cherryblossom @buchi91 @sapphirebarnes @ordelixx

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

Can I request an Angst to happy ending Eddie Munson x fem. reader long oneshot where reader is Jason’s sister and Eddie and reader are dating and vey happy together and Jason sabotages the relationship by writing a note saying awful things about Eddie and he shows it to Eddie and makes Eddie believe his girlfriend wrote it and when she finds Eddie later, she tries to hug him and he pushes her away from him and she’s confused why he’s acting this way and he starts yelling at her in anger and confronts her about the note and shows it to her and she starts sobbing and tries to convince him that she didn’t write it and she would never do something like that because she loves him and it’s the first time she’s told him she loves him and when he finally realizes Jason set him up, he apologizes to reader and hugs her and kisses her and he tells her how sorry he is as he keeps kissing her and he tells her he loves her too and they end up going back to his place and show each other just how much they love each other and have their first time together?

I love that!

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

WHAT LETTER?

Pairings: Eddie munson x Fem!Carver!reader

Summary: ^^^^

Word count: Idk but its definitely over 1k. Maybe 2k?

Warnings: swearing, the note contains his parents leaving, smut (piv) (unprotected sex!) oral (F!Receiving) so 18+.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Jason watched from afar as his sister was wrapped up in the arms that he despised the most. Eddie Munson.

He did not like them together one bit, he would rather you date his friend chase, than him.

Seeing you all cuddle-y with the freak made his blood boil, out of all the guys in Hawkins, she chose him.

But Jason merely blamed you for it, he blamed him for corrupting you, for tricking you into going out with him, and he'd be damned if Eddie did his satanic-ritual sacrifice on you.

-

Eddie hadn't done anything of a sort to you, he was kind, sweet, loving and caring to you and hasn't done anything to hurt you in any way shape or form.

You knew and didn't care that Jason knew about you, so it wasn't a surprise when he came up to you when he saw Eddie kiss your cheek 2 months ago and yelled at you for being with him, but you just stood in front of him, looking confused as to why he thought he would have control over who you were with.

"You can't be with him, Y/n, I won't have that" he had told you

"Deal with it" you shrugged

"You're going to break up with him" he ordered

"To hell I will" you stormed off to find Eddie

-

Jason folded the piece of paper in his hands that held despicable words about the town's freak written in it.

Jason smirked proudly when the bell went, signalling the end of the day.

He got up from his desk, and collected his things as he shoved the note in the pocket.

He went looking for you, he wanted it to seem like you had written it, so he tried his best to copy your writing, but he needed your signature, to make it seem more real.

"Y/n!" He yelled out to as he spotted you at your locker, packing your things up for the day.

You turned to see your brother running up to you, you rolled your eyes at the thought that he would yet again, try to say something bad about your loving boyfriend

"What now, dear brother" you said sarcastically

"Can you sign this for me?" He asked politely

"Why?"

"I'm trying to get everyone's signature for a petition I'm doing" he lied quickly on the spot

"Where's all your friends signatures?" You questioned

"On the inside, I got a lot of them so I just folded it to get more on" he dodged your other question easily

"Oh, ok then" you grabbed the piece of paper and pen off him and leaned it against your locker, signing your name neatly

"There you go" you handed it back to him with a slight smile

"Thank you" he nodded his head as if he was bowing to you and walked away from you, catching up to him friends.

---

It was the next morning, people were gathered in the corridors, getting to their lockers to gather their things for the first period

"Hey, sweetheart" Eddie sneaked up from behind you and gripped your shoulders with his ring-clad fingers. His palms pressed into your neck as his frizzy curls tickled your face as he pressed himself against you lovingly and leaned over you.

"Hi, Eds" you smiled at the contact.

He brushed your hair off your shoulder so he could access your neck that was adorned with a few necklaces, he pressed a light kiss near your jaw and dropped his hand down to your waist, pulling your hips back onto him gently.

He spun you around to face him and kept his smile on his face the whole time, just happy to see you.

You gave him a peck on the lips, but he craved for more when you pulled away from his lips, but you didn't get far as he pulled you closer, putting more and more kisses on your pink lips that he loved dearly

"How was your morning?" He hummed

"I could barely get out if bed, I just couldn't sleep much, I don't know why" you yawned

"Oh" he basically purred "that's no good"

"Yeah, how was yours?" You leaned against him

"It was good" he shrugged

---

"Hey Munson!" Eddie heard the deafening yell from the one and only

"What do you want, Jason?" Eddie asked when Jason had caught up to him

"I wanted to give this to you, Y/n wrote it" he handed the note over to Eddie

"Ok? Thanks" Eddie spoke confusedly

Eddie opened the piece of paper in front of Jason, who, as much as he didn't want to be near the freak, was still in front of him, waiting for his reaction

Eddie read it in his head, he felt as though he shouldn't read it aloud for her privacy and just kept it to himself, he figured that the blonde in front of him already knew what words were written behind the paper but it wasn't really his business

When writing the note, Jason made it seem like the letter was part of a diary, almost, but just on a loose, blank piece.

Eddie read every word carefully, his eyes slowly moving word to word as he examined what this letter was about.

Eddie couldn't comprehend the unimportant filling words written, he could only notice the things about him that 'she' had listed. It's the little things that he thought she would love about him that 'she' actually hated

It was all there, written neatly in front of him.

She hated it all.

I don't know why I'm even with him, he's a disgusting pig who thinks he's so special. Well he's not, He's an ugly freak. It's no wonder they call him the freak, but I just added ugly because well look at him, I'd much rather be with Chase, and I should've listen to Jason. Eddie is such a weirdo and he's the worst kisser, I can't stand having his lips on mine, not to mention his breath always stinks, he stinks in general. I can't even act like I like him anymore, I can't risk being one of his ritual sacrifices for the devil. And don't get me started on the music he likes, They're horrible, and loud, he could be Satan himself to be honest. Everything about him is disgusting, his hair, his clothes, pervy words and thoughts, his nose is so big too, and his voice, he. Is. Disgusting. He always goes on about his parents leaving and all I think of is that they should've left sooner, it's really no wonder why they left. Oh! And I went to see his band the other night, They're so shit, they sounded horrible I wanted to go deaf. Anyway, I'm going to break up with him soon, I mean I never liked him anyway.

The note continued saying things he wished he would never hear about himself, saying things about him that made him want to throw up and scream. The note continued saying things he never thought a person could even think of another. Let alone about him. The person who wrote this would have been satan himself if he didn't know it was you who said all those things, all the things he thought you loved.

When Eddie finished reading the note, he scrunched it up in his fist

"What the hell is this!?" He questioned the blonde boy

"Y/n wrote it, and since it's about you I thought you have the right to see it" Jason said

"Why are you giving me this?"

"I thought you should know what she really thinks of you" Jason spoke cockily, was a small smirk making it's way onto his face

"Right" Eddie huffed

"Look. I'm sorry that you had to find out this way-" Jason sarcastically apologised

"Yeah- right" Eddie said through gritted teeth and shoved past Jason, who, to his pleasure, smiled in satisfaction and made a gun sign with his fingers and pretended to shoot at in the air taking the situation as a win for him

---

At lunch, Eddie was a but late, not being there as you sat down in your usual spot, to the left of your boyfriend. But you didn't notice your brother staring at you from his table

Eddie was standing at the doors of the cafeteria, glaring at you from afar as he watched your every move, as if, if he were to look away from you for a second, when he would turn to you again, you would be in front of him, jabbing him with a metaphorical knife that were actually just words.

You didn't deserve to be there, laughing with his friends, sitting at his table, wearing one of jackets to keep you warm. not after what you did, not after what you thought of them, not after what you said.

So when you saw him almost about to sit down in his seat, when you got up to greet him with one of your hugs, he pushed you away, making you stumble back a bit

"What's wrong, Eds?" You questioned him as you rebalanced yourself correctly

"Go" he demanded bluntly

"W-what?" You stuttered confused

"You heard me, leave, we don't want you here" he spoke coldly towards you

You looked down at the rest of the guys seeing them bewildered and clueless as well and it made you more confused

"What h-"

"Did you not hear me!? I told you to leave! You're not welcome to sit here anymore, not after what you said about us, about me, why didn't you just tell me you thought I was an ugly freak? Why didn't you just tell me? I mean you were the one to ask me out! I didn't even want to go out with you! So leave, satanic bitch. I. Don't. Want. You" he yelled loudly, you froze, you couldn't move after his statement and all the eyes in the cafeteria were looking at you made you feel weak.

"What?" You whispered

"Don't fucking act dumb! I'm not an idiot" he reminded you.

"It's all there, all the cruel things you've said about me and my friends, all written on one simple page" he chuckled bitterly

“what do you mean?” you asked

“oh please. the letter” he laughed dryly while rolling his eyes and crossing his arms defensively

“letter? what letter?” you said confused, where is this coming from? 

“stop playing dumb, this letter” he got it from his pocket and shoved the piece of paper to you.

"I didn't-" he cut you off

"Its right there, you can't deny it, it's all written on there!" He shouted at you. You held the page and examined it, only seeing a few of the cruel things written within it

"I didn't write-" yet again, he ignored you and cut you off

"Stop denying it! Stop lying and just own up to it cause I know you did it anyway!"

"I-..." you could barely speak, all the stares and yelling made you feel so small and freeze up again, you don't know who wrote that, but they were horrible

A moment went by before there was any movement or sound from anyone. Everyone was dead. Silent.

"Give me my jacket" Eddie said lowly, looking down at the ground with his hand reached out for his jacket

"Eddie-"

"Give me. My. Jacket. I want it back" he muttered the last bit, almost as if he's ashamed

Your bottom lip quivered as you tried your best to stop tears from flowing down your eyes. You slowly slipped his jacket off and passed it to him, his hand quickly moving away from yours as you gave it back to him.

You would've felt cold without it on your body, but your body felt like it was on fire, your cheeks were burning up and Eddie's hard stare made the hair on your arms and legs stand up, giving you chills.

"Go, I don't even look at you" he lowered his head, you can feel the sadness written in his voice.

You looked down at the guys to see their sad and broken faces, they thought you were their friend, they though you weren't like the other girls in the school.

You nodded your head as none of them would even look at you either.

You gathered your things and left the cafeteria, leaving the food that actually looked ok today.

---

It had been five days since the incident, Jason felt relieved that he didn't have to see you near Eddie anymore, he felt like he accomplished something and that he protected you, but in reality he had broken up something beautiful.

It was Friday afternoon, and you had caught up to Eddie as he was getting into his car

"Eddie" you called out to him but he didn't wait for you, he opened his van door and was about to get in until you got close enough to pull him back

"Eddie" you panted softly

"What?" He spat, turning around and surprisingly not pushing you away

"Please just listen to me this time. It wasn't me who wrote that, I would never write such things about you, let alone anyone" you cried out to him

"I fell for it ok, it was funny, Haha, see I'm laughing, but Its not funny anymore, it's over so stop trying" he stated and moved his hand away from yours

"Don't you realise I wouldn't do that to you?!" You started sobbing and sniffling "don't you realise that I love you and would never do anything to hurt you like that. It was all Jason! You know how he doesn't want us together, you know how he was always trying to break us up. So why don't you trust me?" You rambled while crying hardly against his stare

"Y-you love me?" He questioned

"Why don't you trust me?" You ignored his question

He realised now the it was so obvious that it was Jason, even if it was a note from her, why would he have it? How would he have gotten it?

A part of him thought something seemed off with it, that something wasn't right. But he was too angry at what was written about him that to notice how wrong it felt. He let his insecurities get the best if him and let Jason get want he wanted

"I-I'm sorry-" you interrupted him

"You called me a satanic bitch" you said quietly

"I know, you're anything but. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry I said those things." He stepped close to you and slowly pulled you into him

"you said you never wanted to go out with me" you murmered

"I know, I was just angry and upset, I didn't mean to say any of that and I'm forever sorry for it"

You cried against his chest and let it all out, the anger you felt towards your brother, your sadness, your pain. And he felt like crying with you. He felt like he had to, but he wanted to seem strong, for you.

He leaned down to hug you better and leaned back a bit, looking down at you as you sobbed

"I'm so sorry" he apologized, pressing a sweet kiss on your lips

"Please forgive me, sweetheart" he mumbled as he kissed you again

"Please" you could hear the little crack in his voice.

He kissed you again softly, and again, and again. And pulled you closer to him by snaking his arms around your waist and tagging you in, pressing a long, passionate and loving kiss on your lips

"I know it's only been 5 days, but I missed you" he said against your mouth

"I missed you too" you mumbled

"I love you" you confirmed his question from only minutes ago

"I love you more, you don't even know" he pulled away from you and stared at you

"I'm really fucking sorry"

"I'm sorry too" you spoke softly

"C'mon, sweetheart, let's go" he dragged you into his van.

---

"C'mon" he grabbed your hand and directed you to his trailer, unlocking the door and guiding you in, shutting the door and leading you to his room.

“you know how much I love you?” he questioned

“no” you shook your head

“want me to show ya?”

you only nodded as you watched him drag you to his bed, pushing you down on your back.

he crawled on top of you, his necklace hanging down to just scape the tip of your nose, tickling you as it dangled down from his neck.

"I'm gonna need verbal consent here, sweetheart" he raised an eyebrow, waiting for your answer

"show me, Eddie"

he leaned down to you and pressed a wet, passionate kiss full of longing and lust, making you want more

you always thought about what he would be like, what he would look like when making love. you had imagined it many times before, even before you went out together.

Eddie trailed desperate kisses down your jaw and all the way to your collarbone, making slight noises and whines roll off your tongue

he slightly pulled you up, taking your shirt off at a painfully slow pace, the only thing stopping him from your breasts was the lacy bra you wore

"you're so beautiful" his voice was low and husky, making you weak in the knees

"god" he cursed under his breath before going to attack your cleavage with the hottest of kisses.

he took his shirt off from the back and watched as you studied all of his tats

"you like them?" he asked cockily.

you've never even seen Eddie without a shirt, so all you've ever seen of his tats is the bats on his forearm that was on show from his mid sleeves on his Hellfire shirt he wore all the time

you hummed in response, moving underneath of him as you stared at his tats with your bottom lip between your teeth

"do they...turn you on?" he realised

"a bit" you saw the look on his face when you lied "a lot" you blushed

"which one's ya favourite?" he quizzed with a smirk on his face

you examined all of them briefly

"that one" you motioned to the one on his arm, which was resting next to your face as he used it to hold himself up. the puppet one, your eyes fixated on it for a while and he noticed

"I like that one too" he leaned down to get a better look at it.

You couldn't stop looking at his toned biceps and arms that were right in front of you

"baby you're staring" he snapped you out of your ungodly thoughts about him

"sorry" you apologized softly

"don't be sorry, sweetheart. what were you thinking about?" he questioned you, leaning down more.

you felt his hot breath brush on your face, his breath smelling like a distant cigarette and mint, as if he took a mint after smoking. That's probably what he did

"uhm. stuff" you sighed, like you were caught.

"mm. what stuff?"

"you" you whispered, looking up at him through your eyelashes

"what about me, Sweetheart?" he chuckled

"Eddiee" you dragged his name out as you whined, not wanting to talk about it and just want him to touch you

"so desperate for my touch, ay'? you needy girl"

he crawled down the bed, to where your feet were and took off your worn out sneakers and socks, then crawled back up, towering over you as he admired you

"you're beautiful" he shook his head, astonished by the sight of you half naked on his bed.

he hopped off the bed and stood up.

he unbuckled his jeans and shook them off desperately, leaving him in nothing but his boxers, his took his shoes off when you got there so he didn't have to worry about that.

he unzipped you pants and pulled them off.

"I think purple is my new favourite colour, Sweetheart" he sighed in satisfaction, noticing that your underwear and bra were a matching set of a pretty, light purple.

"please, Eddie" you whined once again, just wanting him to touch you.

"damn, I didn't know you were so whiney" he rolled his eyes playfully and pushed his hand behind your back, trying to get your bra off.

"you got it?" you ask impatiently

"almost" he grunted before it popped off "got it"

he pulled it off you and threw it across his room, not caring to know where it went

"nice tits" he chuckled to himself before going down, attacking one with his mouth and the other, massaging it was his hands.

he twirled his tongue along you breast, teasing the bud with his teeth as he nibbled on it.

you let out the most beautiful noise that rung in Eddie's ears

"god. Eddie" you moaned out, feeling your core heat up and get wet from the sensation of his mouth on your trembling body

"this isn't acts of god, sweetheart, so don't pray right now" he said huskily, retracting his mouth off you.

by him just saying that alone you made out the most desperate moan Eddie never thought he would hear from you, it almost sounded like it could be in a porno.

Eddie reached down to spread open your legs and settled himself between them, leaning down to get a view of the wet patch on your underwear that was growing at a fast pace.

"my, my, now that's a sight for sore eyes" Eddie muttered to himself, almost drooling at the sight of your dripping core in front of him

he hooked you finger around the fabric and pulled your panties down slowly. throwing them across him room, finding it's way to the mix of rubbish, mixtapes and all the other clothes he had carelessly thrown away, to now become one with his room.

he looked down and leaned his face closer, smelling your strong scent only inches away from is face

"didn't know I could get you this wet" he stated with small chuckle

he took his finger and slipped it up and down your slick folds, making you let out a little whine. he played with your juices between his fingers, smiling to himself

"we're gonna have some fun" he said before attaching his tongue to your wet pussy. licking in up and down motions, he smirked to himself as he heard the noises you made from his touch.

Eddie pushed a finger in you, pumping in and out of you at a fast pace as he teased your clit with his tongue

"My- god- Eddie" you panted, throwing you head back at the sensation.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He mumbled, sending vibrations that gave him orgasmic moans in return.

"You, in. I ne-need you in me" you moaned out as you gripped his hair with one hand

"Not right now, babe, I'm kind of busy at the moment" he said against you sending chills down your spine

He felt you grip and pull on his hair, which made him grunt at the feeling.

You held onto his mattress to give you some sort of support to stay still.

"Stop moving" Eddie told you before grabbing ahold of the space right between your waist and hip and moved you against his mouth, giving more friction into his movements.

You're breathing got heavier, and your chest rose up and down so quick you would think you've ran a marathon, so when you had told Eddie you thought you were close, he laughed and pulled away.

"Just wait, I was just getting you warmed up" he crawled back ontop of you and wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting you to pull down his boxers with your feet.

Once they were off him, he lined himself up to your dripping core and slowly pushed in

Eddie knew he wasn't small, and you knew he wasn't small. You had always pictured what he was hiding beneath those tight jeans of his, and it was not that big.

So when he pushed into you, you let out a cry in pain, making Eddie go still in you.

You didn't know how you were supposed to take him, he felt 10 times bigger inside you and he was only half way in.

"It's ok, just a little more, you can do it, m'kay, sweetheart? Just a little more" he grunted as he slowly pushed the rest in.

He stayed still for a moment, waiting for the signal for him to move in you and that you were ok.

You nodded your head and shifted agaisnt him, feeling a completely full with him in you

He slowly moved into you, pulling out and in and a pace that made you get used to him, and he slowly got faster as he heard the pleasure you were getting from him in your moans

"F-fuck, Eddie" you threw you head back again and dug your head back into his pillow

"You doing so well, you feel so good" Eddie groaned, feeling him deep inside you

Eddie knew he would never forget how good you felt, how good it was to be inside you, pleasuring you. That's all he'd ever want to do.

You've both waited for this moment, you told each other you would wait for the perfect time and not rush into things like every other couple these days, they have sex so soon. And God did you both like it.

All Eddie ever wanted to do was to please you, to make you feel loved. And this is what it was, this was nothing but making love. This was no fucking or pure sex, this was making love, and that's all Eddie wanted to do, nothing more, nothing less. This was making love in his eyes.

"How good do you feel? How good do I make you feel, sweetheart?" He said as his thrusts became fast and sloppy due to your dripping cunt.

"So- so good, Eddie. Yo- make me f-feel so good" you moaned out.

"Good, cause you feel heavenly, sweetheart"

Eddie gripped your hips and moved you along with his thrusts, making him go deeper inside you.

The room was filled with Eddie grunts and your sinful screams and moans. The sounds were music to Eddie's ears, hearing your pants and whines and the sloppy clapping from your skin hitting each other. It was like one of Eddie's dreams.

"This. Sweetheart, is how much I love you" Eddie confessed and quickened his thrusts

"Eddie- god- I think, I think I'm- close" you struggled to tell him.

You never knew what it felt like to be close, nearing the edge of spilling out and letting yourself go. But your stomach was telling you something your brain couldn't comprehend

Eddie felt himself nearing the edge as well, feeling himself start to twitch inside you, but he tried his best to hold it in to let you go.

It's her pleasure before mine Eddie thought to himself.

"Come on, sweetheart. You can- you can do it" he moaned, feeling himself nearly come undone.

You felt yourself let go and something spilling out of you, hearing yourself scream out the most orgasmic moan.

"There you go, sweetheart, that's it"

Eddie pulled himself out and let himself go, seeing the milky liquid come out of him.

After a moment, Eddie let himself drop beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him, digging his face in your neck, kissing it softly

"Thank you" he smiled into your neck

"Whatever for?" You laughed tiredly, lifting a hand up to stroke his hair

"For letting me take care of you like that, for giving me another chance"

"Eddie I wouldn't ever want anyone else but you" you confessed and yawned subtly

Eddie told you to get some rest while he cleaned up, so that's what you did. You let yourself drift off in the arms of your boyfriend and he cleaned everything up.

He gently pulled your underwear back on you after trying to find it for five minutes and slipped on one of his shirts on you, giving you some sort of cover up as you slept in his bed. He smiled to himself.

Eddie cuddled up next to you, digging his face in your stomach and his feet hanging off the bed as he hummed in content.

--------------------------

Tag list:

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Comment if you want to be added to the tag list or removed from it!

[mugchild]

Why I am a feminist

Because i dont know hwere else to post this and i had to because of my therapist to write about this here it is

It’s funny how most of the time it is men asking me this question. And I always have the same answer. The patriarchy.

And let me explain. I’m sure many of you, many men will think ‘Oh here we go again, another feminist’. And that’s true. I am a feminist. And I do hate men. Men as a class are despicable. And you might not understand this, but this class, the patriarchy is also keeping men down, especially if they’re not white, middle-aged, able-bodied and cishet. So ask yourself, do you fit in this category? Do you adhere to all these norms? My dad doesn’t. So be a feminist. Stand with women who are your daughters, your sisters, your wives…because it may not be all men, but it is all women.

I have never, ever met a woman who hasn’t been harassed or doesn’t know a story about a friend being harassed. I have never met a woman who hasn’t felt the fear of walking alone at night and seeing a man out too and walking extra fast.

‘But it happens to men too!’ yes. I’m not denying that. But funny how you never think about that until women start to talk and suddenly you know a lot of male victims. ‘Well, you’re a manhater so it must mean you’re just jealous and single’ And why should the status of my relationship invalidate any argument I say? Is it because of the long history of men accusing women of being hysteric and beyond reason to invalidate their voices? Well would you look at that, the answer is yes. ‘But, but how can you hate every single man?’

Fine. You want to know why I hate men? Why I’m a feminist?

Because I was 9 years old when I was harassed. And you may think, ‘What? That’s not possible, you were just a child, are you sure you’re not exaggerating? You’re probably exaggerating, you’re overreacting. Your brain is changing memories!’ Would you really say that to me? Not now, but use your imagination. Imagine a little girl, shaking, her eyes red from crying coming to you and obviously terrified, saying that she’s scared because of a boy and needs your help. Would you say that?

Yeah. But the thing is, I didn’t realise at the time what was happening. And it wasn’t until many years later that I realised that I’d been harassed. That it wasn’t just teasing. That it wasn’t just ‘boys being boys’. This was a boy being a predator. Abusing his power to terrify me. So what happened?

Well, it happened at summer camp. I wasn’t supposed to be there, you had to be 11 to go, but my sister was going and my parents didn’t want me to feel left out, yadda yadda we had family helping organise it so we pulled some strings – it almost sounds like we’re some mafia but I swear, we’re not. In short, I went and was going to have a grand time. That’s what I thought at least. The first day went by we had dinner and there was a boy. And he proposed to me suddenly, out of nowhere even though we’d just met. Naturally, I rejected him and thought that was it. I didn’t know him and he was two years my senior.

And I thought this was normal because it happened all the time at my primary school. We’d hold ‘weddings’ almost every other day and it’d almost always be the same guy with a different girl. We didn’t really take the sanctity of marriage seriously if you can’t tell. But it was what all the adults did so we did it too. That’s normal child behaviour, it’s healthy even.

But then it happened again, the next day. And I rejected him again. And again. And again.

And it didn’t just stop at proposing. He started following me around the campgrounds. He’d run when I’d run. He’d stop when I’d stop. He’d go where I’d go. And it got so bad, and I got so terrified, that I didn’t dare move on my own anymore. I refused to go anywhere alone and had to have another girl with me at all times, and preferably as many girls as I could rally to go with me. At some point, it got so bad I’d send one of them ahead to check if he was there.

At this point when I tell this story I’d often laugh. Because it seems silly, even overdramatic, does it not? And sure maybe it does seem strange and overkill. But now that I look back at it, those girls saved my life. If they hadn’t been there to help and protect me, then I don’t know what would have happened and frankly, I don’t want to think about it.

So I had my squad to protect me. They’d told me he’d passed through the left door a few minutes earlier so I decided we had to take the right door because 1, I hated the thought of having to walk where he had walked, and 2, surely he couldn’t be in two places at the same time?

I was wrong. He was there and as soon as he saw me, I ran. And he ran too, one of the girls tried to contain him, but it was too late. He screamed my name begging me to come back and I just focused on the stairs ahead of me because that’s where I would be safe, where he could no longer pass because that’s where the girl’s dormitories were. I would be safe there. Safe from him. Safe from anyone else.

He climbed the stairs. He stopped halfway and I turned around yelling at him to get back and leave. He didn’t. Instead, he said that he’d see me tomorrow, that he would get me then.

This wasn’t a promise. This was a threat. And it worked. I ran to my room which I shared with my sister and two other girls and once they had caught up with me and found me, I cried. And I told them what he’d said. And they swore to protect me even better.

That week went by and eventually, I learned to run faster. I learned to look the other way. I learned to ignore him. And then he went and chased another girl. She was older than me and actually was one of the girls who’d been part of my squad. But all I could think about was that finally, I wasn’t his target anymore. I felt relieved. I was glad. She was older than me, she was 16 so she could handle a boy of 11.

But could she? I don’t know, I never asked and I never saw her again. And perhaps a better question is should she have to handle a boy of 11? Where are the men in this story? Where are the men who are supposed to protect, hm? Men are so fond of saying that the man’s role is to protect when often it is men who do the harm. So from what can you protect us? Your own rage? Your own hands? Tell me. Try to convince me that you would have helped me.

None of the men, none of the camp counsellors, protected me. None of them saw what happened. Not the female ones and definitely not the male ones. Why? Because all they saw was boys being boys. Because they were both taught that this is the way it should be. Because of the patriarchy.

So don’t come to me talking about how great the patriarchy is, or how it’s not all men or how I’m exaggerating and just looking for trouble.

No! I’m done babying men and making up excuses for them, and walking on my tiptoes when I’m trying to bring up problems women face, because ‘Oh no! What if a man hears us talking about it and wants to interrupt our precious conversation to say that it’s ‘not all men’.’

Because fuck it, yes it is all men!

As long as men won’t hold other men accountable, it is all men. As long as men will shove the blame on women and tell them that we have to raise our sons better, it is all men. As long as men belittle, diminish, terrify, and objectify women, it is all men. And as long as men deny that they are the problem, I will hate men. Because I was 9.

[persephones-wren]

Can you write a Kaz Brekker one-shot where Kaz is dating the reader and basically one night while they're in his office, Jesper overhears them apart of their conversation and mistakenly thinks they're breaking up so he enlists the other Crows to help keep them together with some wild plan and Kaz and the reader are just left confused since they're still together? Thank you in advance~!

A Break (Kaz Brekker x Reader)

It's a little short, but I hope you enjoy it! I really liked writing it, it was such a sweet idea :) Thank you for requesting!

Warnings: none (I think)

Genre: Unclassified

Word Count: 1422

“This isn’t working out, Kaz. Maybe we should take a break.”

Jesper is astonished when he hears that snippet through the door. Surely it couldn’t be-? They weren’t really going to break up, were they? Kaz and Y/N were almost soulmates, as close as you could get to one, anyway. Was he really that oblivious to not notice any shortcomings between them?

“A break?” Kaz mutters incredulously.

Jesper hopes you’re kidding.

“Yeah, a break. I don’t think we should continue on like this- you’re tired of it, and so am I. We can discuss details tomorrow, but the point remains the same.”

He covers his mouth in horror. He isn’t supposed to be eavesdropping on his boss and his colleague, but- well, this was most certainly unexpected.

“Fine,” he sighs. “This isn’t good for me, and it’s not good for you either. Details tomorrow. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Kaz.”

Both of your voices sound defeated, and Jes scurries off before you notice him outside of Kaz’s office.

He’s no Kaz, but he needs to come up with a plan to get you both back together. He’ll need the Crows, and he’ll need to do some scheming, Saints hope he doesn’t look as brooding as Kaz with his thinking face- but if there’s anything he swears he’ll do, it’s to get the both of you back together.

…

Planning for heists was exhausting when you weren’t constantly computing outcomes like your boyfriend, and last night was especially taxing. You had convinced him to take a break, and finalize details the next day, but- well, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the thought. Another long night spent at his office.

It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy it, it was just- sometimes it got a bit too much.

“Y/N, c’mon, we’re going to go see Nina.”

“We?” You raised your eyebrows. Jesper was up early this morning. That never meant something good. He was usually hungover or just sleeping in late. Something eventful must be happening. “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” he says, frowning.

“...alright,” you say hesitantly. He was acting strange, but- well, if he wanted to visit Nina with you, you weren’t one to object. It’s been a while since you’ve seen her, anyway.

Your shoes clicked on the cobble as you walked the path to the House of the White Rose. There was something off about Jesper. He was abnormally quiet, and his energy was frantic and nervous rather than confident and easy. Maybe Nina could do something about that.

“You okay?” you ask quietly.

“Yeah,” Jes swallows hard. “I’m fine. Are you?”

“...yeah?”

You approach the front desk, and the clerk looks up at the both of you.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning. Here to see Nina Zenik, please.”

“She’s in that room, with a client,” the clerk mentions. “She’ll be done soon. Make sure to knock.”

“Thanks,” you say, and you both make your way there.

You rap on the wood lightly, and you hear a bit of fumbling before a “coming!” rings out.  Nina opens the door, and a client walks out, a small smile on her face. “Come on in, come on in.”

“I’m sorry Nina, but I must get back. Kaz wants me there in half an hour, sharp.” Jesper smiles apologetically at you, before putting his hat back on and leaving.

“What’s up with him?” you mutter. “Why would he bring me here just to leave seconds later? He’s been acting strange all morning.”

“No idea,” Nina answers. “But Kaz always gets what he wants.”

“Right.”

She closes the door behind you as you step in.

“So, how’s your relationship with Kaz going?”

You go to answer, but her intense stare at you throws off your answer. Does she know something you don’t? “Well…?” you trail off. “We’ve been doing well. He’s been good to me, we’re very much in love. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering.”

There’s relief in her tone, but the answer doesn’t satisfy you.

“I’ve heard there’s been some trouble in paradise from someone at the Barrel, so I thought-” she pours two cups of tea and sits across from you. “I thought it’d be good to check in. Kaz isn’t always the best, but you’re good for him.”

“Yeah…?” your expression contorts into one of confusion.

“And he’s good for you too, really. You shouldn’t let one argument change your view on him. Unless of course, he's being despicable towards you, but even Kaz has his limits. Sometimes.”

“Okay,” you sigh, exasperated. “There’s no issues between me or Kaz. He hasn’t been doing anything to me, and we weren’t arguing? Jesper’s been acting strange. So have you. What’s going on?”

Now it’s her face that sports a look of confusion. “Didn’t you two fight yesterday, say you were taking a break?”

“Yes? Well, no,” you amend. “Taking a break from working on a plan, not our relationship. Who gave you that idea?”

“Jesper. He heard you two fighting yesterday.”

“Oh.” A look of realization dawns your face. “That’s why- oh, he’s an idiot,” you laugh. “I can’t wait to see the look on Kaz’s face when he brings up our relationship, he might be done for.”

“Hopefully Kaz will catch on quick,” Nina agrees, and laughs with you. “We can go back, I’ll accompany you if you’d like. I’m sure Jes will be relieved to know it’s a mistake.”

“Yeah, probably.” …

“You shouldn’t have agreed to break up with Y/N.”

“Excuse me?” Kaz turns around, and Inej is standing there.

“Did she tell you she wanted to end your relationship?”

“Did she tell me what?”

“That you wanted to take a break from your relationship,” Jesper says, and Kaz turns around, staring at him as he joins Inej’s side.

“No, she did not. Did she tell you that?”

His hands flex on his cane in an odd show of muted nervousness, but his glare remains sharp.

Jesper frowns, and Inej gives him a questioning look. “Didn’t she say that you two were taking a break yesterday? That’s not right. She’s nearly perfect for you, and it’s the same for her. You guys need to work it out, because if you guys break up, you’re both going to be miserable.”

A look of realization is there for seconds on Kaz’s face, before it morphs back into one of annoyance. “A break from a heist plan, not our relationship, Jesper. And what was your reason for eavesdropping on our conversation?”

Jesper smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, Boss. I just heard you two while walking by. I thought you two were ending it.”

Kaz sighs, and a look of judgement pierces Jesper. “We’re not.”

“Jesper, you idiot,” Inej rolls her eyes, but she’s relieved nonetheless. “Good that you both are together, then. I’m going to go run some errands, and I’ll be back for the nightly report.” She gives Kaz and Jesper a mock salute, and then she’s gone.

“Still unnerving how she can do that,” Jesper mutters.

“I’ll be in my office. No eavesdropping.”

Jes tenses, but answers a small, “Got it, Boss.”

…

It’s a little while before you return, visiting some shops with Nina and picking up some random little decor you liked, or a sweet from your childhood.

Heads turn when you enter the Crow Club, as they always do, but they all go back to what they’re doing when they realize it’s you. You quietly make two cups of tea, and make your way to Kaz's office, knocking three times.

“Who is it?”

His voice is sharp and rough, as always, but it still holds fatigue. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s slaving over the same plan tonight, and you had forgotten to iron out some of the kinks this morning with him, you think, regret filling your veins.

“It’s Y/N.”

“Come in, then. No need to knock, darling.”

You open the door and he looks up at you, murmuring a small “thank you” as you set the tea down in front of him.

“We forgot to go over the details with Jes’s strange scheming, but that’s alright, let’s just do them now,” he says, and you nod in agreement.

“I don’t want to break up with you, for the record,” you grin. “That was a total mishear from Jes.”

“I’d hope not,” a brief smile flashes across his face. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you answer earnestly, and then you’re back to work with your boyfriend, night blanketing the sky as your love shone bright.

[kunoichihatake]

Busy Chapter 2 (Tobirama x reader, Madara x reader)

Prompt: “Can you write for tobirama? He is losing his s/o to another man, bc he puts his work before her, and well she understands bc she loves him but this other guy is doing his best and she is conflicted... i need some jealously and angst in my life 😅😭 THANK YOU! If u dont want to write it its ok ! 😄"

A/n: this might end up being more than two parts hehe...drop me a reply if you want to see more b/c I have some ideas 😛

Pairing: Tobirama Senju x female reader, Madara Uchiha x female reader

Words: 1.5k+

Warnings: slight cheating, a lot of self-loathing by the reader

Masterlist / part 1 / buy me a coffee?

“I always have time for you, Y/n. Why not be mine instead?”

I can’t, you thought, but your tongue felt frozen, the words unable to escape your throat. You watched, partially terrified and partially elated, as Madara leaned his face towards yours and caught your lips in a deep kiss. Immediately, fireworks exploded in your stomach, but underlying them was a sick feeling, making your insides churn. You pulled away after a moment, staring at the dark-haired man with wide eyes. He stared back at you, his gaze a mix of confusion and concern.

“What’s the matter?” Madara said, his eyes staring into yours, studying them. You could feel his warm breath, see the flutter of his long eyelashes when he blinked. He’s too close. He shouldn’t be this close. “Your fiancé doesn’t pay you any attention. You deserve better, you know that.”

You stood up from the couch, your legs trembling, your head feeling as if it were too heavy to keep upright. You felt sick suddenly, like you were going to lose your lunch all over his tidy floor. “I’m sorry, Madara,” you said, your voice shaking, unsure. “I can’t do this. I’m promised to Tobirama.”

“Y/n,” he started, standing up, but you rushed to the door as fast as your shaking legs would take you, slipping your shoes on without bothering to adjust them to be comfortable.

“I have to leave now. I’m sorry.” Without another word, you gripped the door handle and walked out into the afternoon sun, praying no one saw you leave Madara Uchiha’s house, especially not looking so flustered.

--

You immediately went home and plopped down on your own couch, the afternoon’s events replaying over and over in your mind. I’m despicable, you thought, tears streaming down your face. When Tobirama finds out, he’s going to want to kill me. And Madara, for that matter. Despite his advances, you still couldn’t convince yourself that Madara had done anything wrong. It was my fault. I tempted him. I should have never gone into his home.

Around 7 pm, you heard a rap on your door, and looked up in shock. Is it Madara? Has he found my address? Or is it Mito? She always seems to know when I’m feeling down. Wiping your eyes and calming your sniffles, you walked over to the door and turned the handle.

“Hello, Y/n.” To your shock, your fiancé was standing over you, his tired eyes full of concern. Fuck, it’s Tobirama. What am I supposed to tell him? Crickets chirped in the background as he studied your tousled form, the uncomfortable silence feeling suffocating. “Are you alright?”

“I’m sorry, Tobirama,” you said, the words falling out of your mouth before you could even formulate a thought. “I went to Madara’s house and he kissed me. I didn’t mean to. I’m so, so sorry.” You couldn’t finish the last sentence before bursting into tears again, trying to calm your hysterical sobs. Your fiancé stood in front of you for what felt like the longest moment of your life, staring at you, not moving a single muscle. His jaw was set, and you could feel disappointment and pain rolling off of him in waves.

“I see,” was all he said to you, before turning around and walking away.

“Tobirama,” you sobbed, grasping for his retreating form but only feeling cold air between your fingers. He paused for a moment, turning to look at you over his shoulder.

“You have broken my trust. I hardly think that seems fit for someone who wants to become my wife.” You felt your heart shatter in your chest, the shards lodging like daggers into your lungs and halting your breath. “As for Madara, he and his clan will answer for their transgressions as soon as I am Hokage.” With that, he walked off into the night, and you collapsed on the floor, your whole world clouding with tears.

--

The next morning, there was another knock on your door, more gentle sounding than the last. You dragged your body off of the couch, feeling as if it weighed a million pounds. You hadn’t gotten up from the couch since Tobirama had visited last night, except for the occasional bathroom trip. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat, or to sleep more than a couple of fitful hours. I can’t believe I did this to him. I’m disgusting.

“Y/n?” A soft voice called through the door. You unlocked the door and opened it to see Mito on your doorstep, trying to hide a look of pity behind a forced smile. You were all too aware of just how disheveled you looked, but you could care less. I broke his heart. It’s all my fault. I deserve this pain.

“Tobirama told Hashirama and I what happened,” she started, treading lightly. You nodded, your gaze dropping to your feet.

“I didn’t mean to,” you said, choking back a sob. “It just...happened.”

Mito nodded. “I know,” she said, and you looked at her in shock. “You’re not the type to cheat. Both Hashirama and I know that.” You blinked, looking at her with wide eyes that burned from a sleepless night of crying.

“Thank you,” you said, your gaze falling once more. “But Tobirama was very upset. I doubt he’ll want to be with me anymore.” The tears crept back into your voice, making your words wobble pitifully. Mito reached out her arms and embraced you, placing your head onto her chest and stroking your hair gently.

“Hashirama and I are going to talk to him,” she said, almost whispering. You gasped gently, taken aback. You hadn’t interacted much with Hashirama, and here he was, going to advocate for you in regards to a situation he didn’t even know the details of. Your heart swelled with the warmth of their kindness, and you gripped Mito’s back tightly, trying not to cry again. “We both know that you’re a good person, and that you would never willingly try to harm or embarrass Tobirama. He’s angry right now, but he’ll cool off.”

“What about Madara?” The words rushed out of your mouth before you could stop them, your heart pounding. Mito continued to hold you, continuing to stroke your hair as if you were a small child, a few seconds passing before she spoke.

“Hashirama will be taking some time to think about the situation,” she said, sounding uneasy. “It’s certainly a difficult position for him, as you can imagine.” You nodded, an even deeper feeling of guilt settling in. Great, now I’m pitting Hashirama against his best friend. All because I was stupid.

“Hey,” Mito said, taking your face in her hands and looking into your eyes. “It’s not your fault. What happened is in the past, and all you can do now is try to make amends.” You nodded. “Give Tobirama some time, and I’m sure you will be able to talk to him again soon. As for Madara, I think it would be best if you stayed away from him.”

Your heart fell, but you nodded anyway. You knew she was right. The fireworks that Madara made you feel weren’t right, and came with too many consequences. Mito smiled at you, bringing you close for a hug once more.

“It’ll be alright, dear sister,” she said, squeezing you gently. “Tobirama may be strict, but he’s not incapable of forgiveness. Once you’re married, this will be just a small bump in the road.” You nodded, and Mito hugged you tightly once more before saying her goodbyes, lamenting that she had important work to carry out that day or she’d certainly stay and care for you. You waved her away, saying you could take care of things, and telling her to thank Hashirama for his help.

As soon as Mito was gone, you took a shower, scrubbing your skin so coarsely you nearly bled, trying to get the feeling of Madara’s presence off. You put on your best clothes and walked to the bakery where you worked, greeting the owner with a smile and ordering your favorite scone. You made small talk for a few moments, and then came the hard part.

“I need to quit. I’m sorry, something came up.”

Your boss nodded, his smile fading. “Fiancé?” he asked.

“Something like that,” you replied, swallowing the bitter truth.

He nodded, clasping your hands across the counter. “I understand. It was a joy having you as an employee, Y/n. Do take care.” You nodded, thanking him for his graciousness.

Before you left, your (now former) boss offered you a box of freshly baked danishes, but you refused; so he sent you home with a basket of scones instead. You munched on them as you walked, your stomach grumbling from the lack of food you’d had in the past 24 hours.

Once you got home, you removed your shoes and flopped on the couch once more, staring straight up at the ceiling. The basket of scones sat on the coffee table, warm and fresh and inviting. You grabbed one more and turned it over in your hands, feeling its softness in your palms.

Everything is going to be alright, a voice echoed in your head, despite the fact that you didn’t quite believe that yet. With a sudden sense of calm rushing over you, you fell fast asleep.

if you enjoyed this fic, consider buying me a coffee? ✨

[spine-buster]

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.

[americasass91]

His Kind of Beautiful

Hello lovely people! I don’t even know where to begin here. My ex popped up as a friend I may know on Facebook the other day. Of course it brought up all these memories. (I’ve been with my husband for over a decade so this ex was from way back when.) Anyways, I couldn’t help but think back to when and why we broke up. We worked together (that was a mistake) and I was chatting with one of our coworkers. The guy looked at me and was like ‘I don’t want to get in the middle of anything but your boyfriend said something about you the other day and it bothered me.’ I told him to tell me what he said. ‘He said you weren’t pretty enough to blow him.’ (Fun fact! I had already blown him a few times by this point.) So of course I thought my life was ruined. I mean I was only 17/18. I called him right away and asked him if it was true. The fucker didn’t even deny it! He was like I was just joking around. So I told him since I wasn’t pretty enough to blow him, I wasn’t pretty enough to date him either. That’s the last time I spoke to him.

Anyways! That’s what inspired this little fic. I know we all go through days where we don’t feel pretty or beautiful. But you know what? We are all beautiful no matter what! Please if you ever feel less than that and need to talk, I am here and willing to listen! Nobody should go through life feeling anything less than beautiful.

So I knew I needed to somehow incorporate this into a fic. At first I was going to go with Steve but I took a look at my Masterlist and realized I only had one Andy fic on there. That’s just despicable! So without any further ado, please enjoy this fic with our lovely, handsome floofy haired lawyer daddy!

Rating: Explicit (Like I could write something that doesn’t involve sex with Andrew)

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: Language, fingering, unprotected sex(Remember: Sex is cleaner with a packaged weiner), and just Andy being fluffy

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You honestly didn’t even know why you had agreed to this. You hated first dates in general, let alone a blind date.

But your friend, Jane, assured you this guy was handsome and nice and worth your time to go out with.

So, you pulled a blue dress from your closet that you’d only worn maybe twice in your life and actually did your eye makeup.

After getting fully ready you take one last look at yourself in the mirror. For once you didn’t hate the woman staring back at you. This dress happened to accentuate your curves and the color of your eyeshadow made your eyes pop. You wouldn’t necessarily say you were pretty, but you looked decent.

You slip on your heels and grab your purse and head out of your apartment. As you go to lock your door, the apartment door behind you opens.

“Good evening, neighbor.”

You turn around with a smile on your face and return the greeting to your sinfully handsome neighbor, Andy.

He can’t help but notice how pretty you look. “Where are you going all dressed up?”

You blush and start heading towards the elevator together. “Oh, my friend set me up on a blind date. I’m nervous. Haven’t been on a date in awhile.”

He presses the button for the lobby. “Blind date, huh? Yeah I went on one of those recently. First date since the divorce. It was...interesting.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as you both headed into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. You turn towards him. “Interesting, how?”

“Well, for starters, she was almost an hour late. Then when she showed up, she didn’t even apologize for being late. She just sat down and demanded the waiter bring her a cocktail. By snapping her fingers at him.”

The elevator doors open. You head into the lobby and notice Andy following you. “So I think it’s safe to say you aren’t calling her for a second date?” He opens the door to the outside for you. You smile in thanks and head out into the warm evening air of Boston.

He rolls his eyes as he follows you onto the street and hails down a cab. “Absolutely not.” He gestures for you to take the cab.

You look at him confused. “Don’t you need one?”

He waves you off. “Nah, I’m heading to pick up Jake to take him to dinner. He finally found some time to fit his old man into his ‘busy’ teenager schedule.” He heads towards his Audi you now realize is parked in front of the building right behind your cab.

You scoff at him as you open the cab door. “Old man? Oh, please. You can’t be more than what? 38?”

He opens the door to his own vehicle and smirks at you. “Try 43, sweetheart. Hey! Good luck on your date!” He waves and gets into his car. You return the wave and get into the cab and give the driver the address to the restaurant and try to get your mind off of how good Andy’s ass looked in the jeans he was wearing.

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You arrived at the restaurant with a few minutes to spare. You wanted to get there a little early so you could get a drink from the bar and calm your nerves.

You find a seat away from the other patrons and order a glass of wine. You scan your eyes over the room to see if your date has arrived yet. You weren’t entirely sure what he looked like but you knew he was going to be wearing a red shirt.

The bartender sets your wine in front of you. You hand over a 10 dollar bill and tell him to keep the change. As you sip your wine, you check your phone for the time. 7:02. You’re about ready to text your friend to ask if your date is normally late when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

You turn around and look up at who you assume to be your date for the evening. He was handsome. Not as handsome as Andy, but handsome enough.

He gives you a small smile. “Hi, are you Y/N?”

You nod your head with a smile. “Yes, hi! It’s nice to meet you. You must be Jason?” You then gesture to the seat next to you. “Would you like to have a drink before we get a table?”

He nods once and takes a seat next to you and flags down the bartender to order a scotch.

The bartender sets the drink in front of him. Jason thanks him and pays for his drink.

You can feel the awkwardness start to creep in. And when that happens, you tend to get chatty.

“So, what do you do for a living?” You smile hoping to ease the tension building.

He turns to look you up and down. And not subtly. He shakes his head in disapproval and downs his drink before standing up. “Listen, I’m sorry but I can’t do this. Jane lied to me.”

You can’t help the confused look that crosses your face. “She lied to you? How?”

He gives you another not so subtle once over. “She told me you were beautiful. And no offense, but I just don’t see it.”

You can’t help the jaw drop. Sure you knew you weren’t gorgeous but damn. You’d never had a man be bold enough to actually say it to your face. “So, you’re just gonna leave? Not even give me a chance because I’m not your version of beautiful?”

He scoffs and checks out a girl that walks by the two of you. “What can I say? I’ve got standards that you just don’t meet.”

You feel like you’ve just been punched in the gut. That’s it. You’re fucking done. You reach behind you and grab your wine glass and throw the drink in his face.

You grab your purse and head towards the door. You turn back to face him. “I may not meet your ‘beauty standards’ but at least I’m not an asshole!” With that you flip him off and head outside to hail a cab to head back home.

You manage to make it almost all the way home before the tears start to fall. Sure he was a stranger and his opinion didn’t matter. But it still fucking hurt that he didn’t want you and didn’t even think you were pretty enough to share a meal with. Your self esteem already sucked and this asshole sure as hell didn’t make it any better.

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The blue dress goes in the trash as soon as you step into your apartment. You take off your nice lace bra you had put on. You take your makeup off with a wipe and pull your hair up in a ponytail. You throw on some hello kitty pajama shorts and a t- shirt that’s at least 2 sizes too big for you.

Then you head into your kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine from a bottle you keep in the fridge for emergencies. You think this classifies as one.

You grab your phone off the counter and call your favorite Chinese place. You order double what you normally do because nobody wants to sleep with you. Might as well eat whatever the fuck you wanted. God, you can’t believe you shaved your legs for that asshole.

The lady on the phone lets you know it’ll be at least an hour. You give her your card number and thank her before refilling your now empty glass.

As you’re sitting on the couch waiting for your food, you can’t help but replay the events of the evening. Then that takes you into a downward spiral as you think back to all of your exes.

Come to think of it, they’ve all left you for one reason or another. A majority of them cheated with someone way prettier than you. Wow, maybe you were the problem. Clearly you were going for guys out of your league.

Maybe you needed to reevaluate the standards you had. Which quite frankly, wasn’t much. You just wanted them to not be a serial killer.

Perhaps you should just give up on dating. You were perfectly happy alone. Maybe that’s how it was supposed to be for you.

Before your thoughts could spiral anymore, your doorbell rang. You glance at your phone. Damn that hour flew by.

You grab $10 out of your purse for a tip and open your door. As you’re grabbing the bags and thanking the delivery guy, Andy steps out of the elevator with confusion written all over his face. “Hey, Y/N. Thought you had a date?”

You could almost feel the tears trying to well up again. No, you weren’t going to cry. Especially in front of your handsome neighbor.

“Yeah, it uh, didn’t work out. Shit happens.”

He puts his key in the lock and opens his door then turns to look at you. “Not your type?”

You can’t help the rush of air that leaves your mouth. “Not exactly. I wasn’t his. Apparently Jane, our mutual friend, told him I was beautiful and well. He didn’t agree with her.”

Andy furrows his brows and cocks his head to the side. “What? Was he blind or something?”

You shake your head. “Nope. I just wasn’t up to his standards.”

Andy mumbles something under his breath. “Well, I’m sorry. Some guys can be real assholes.”

You wave him off. “No need to apologize. I get that I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.”

Andy shakes his head. “Still, I’m sorry. That really sucks. And he really said you weren’t beautiful to your face?”

You give him a sad smile and shrug your shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m used to not being wanted. Have a nice night, Andy.”

You turn and head back into your apartment before he has a chance to reply. You don’t need his pity. You just need to drown yourself in the rest of your wine and gorge yourself on the greasy Chinese.

Just as you set the food down on the counter, you hear a knock at your door.

Confused, you head over and open it to find Andy standing there. And he looks kinda pissed.

“What do you mean you’re used to not being wanted?”

You sigh and put your hands on your hips. “It’s not the first time some guy hasn’t wanted me and it won’t be the last.”

Andy shakes his head as he pushes his way inside and shuts the door with his foot. “There’s just something I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “And what’s that?”

He then proceeds to walk closer to you, forcing you backwards until your back touches the wall. He puts his hands on either side of your head and gazes down at you. You’ve never been this close to him before. You can feel his chest move against yours as he breathes. You can feel the heat radiating off of him.God, he smells good.  You realize you’re not breathing and take a deep breath. He smiles down at you and takes his left hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear that had fallen free from your ponytail.

“That some moron would think that you’re not beautiful. He’s fuckin crazy, Y/N.”

Your breath hitches as his left hand has now grabbed the back of your neck to raise your lips towards his. You close your eyes, waiting for the inevitable kiss. “I guess I’m just not everyone’s kind of beautiful.”

He leans in, just barely brushing his lips against yours. “You’re my kind of beautiful.”

WIth that, he presses his lips to yours for a slow but intense kiss. You can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him all the way up against you. He grunts when his hardening cock comes into contact with your soft belly.

After a few minutes of intense kisses that take your breath away, he pulls back and presses his forehead against yours. “Will you let me show you how beautiful I think you are?”

You don’t even need to think about it. “Yes, please.”

He smiles and leans in for one more quick kiss. “Take me to the bedroom, pretty girl.”

You quickly grab his hand and lead him down the hall towards your bedroom, making a quick stop in the kitchen to throw the Chinese food in the fridge.

Once in your room Andy spins you around and presses your back up against his front. He leans forward and starts placing soft kisses against your neck. His left hand rests at your waist while his right hand moves up under your shirt towards your breasts. “Is this okay, pretty girl?” His voice is so low and husky. Your panties didn’t even stand a chance.

You nod. “Yes, please. Touch me, Andy.”

He groans a little and reaches up to cup your right breast in his hand. You hear him let out a growl as he continues to fondle your breast. While his left hand makes its way into your shorts, brushing his finger over your clit. You jolt forward at the sensation, whimpering out in the process.

“You like that, pretty girl? Like my fingers on your little cunt?”

You grab a hold of his wrist and writhe against him as he lowers his fingers towards your entrance. He gathers your slick up before moving his fingers back towards your clit and starts slowly circling it.

“Fuck, Andy. Feels so good.”

“Yeah? You want my fingers inside you, baby?”

You quickly nod. “Please. Need to feel you.”

He lowers his hand back down to your entrance and slowly slides his middle finger against your walls. You arch your back and moan out his name as he starts pumping it slowly.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re so tight. When’s the last time you’ve been touched, pretty girl?”

“Too long. Feels so good. I need more. Please.”

His index finger quickly joins the middle one. He starts pumping them in and out of you quicker, curling them just right so they rub up against your g spot. “Oh, fuck!” You can’t help but yell out at the feeling. It’s been so long since someone’s taken the time to pleasure you, let alone find your g spot. You could feel the coil tightening already. You were embarrassingly close and he hadn’t even really started yet.

“You gonna cum for me already, pretty girl? Do it. Make a mess on my fingers.”

He moves his thumb and starts circling your clit. Your legs start shaking. He presses his thumb down just a little harder and you’re gone. You cum with a shout of Andy’s name into the otherwise empty room.

He continues pumping his fingers in and out but removes his thumb from your clit, not wanting to overstimulate you too much. “Good girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

You lower your head in embarrassment. He spins you around and places his finger under your chin so he can raise your head so you’re looking at him. “Don’t hide from me, pretty girl. I want to see everything.” He takes his left hand and raises it to his mouth, sucking your essence off of his fingers. He moans into his hand. “You taste so fucking sweet. Knew you would.”

He grabs your face to pull you in for a sweet kiss as he slowly pushes you towards the bed. The back of your knees touch your mattress before he pulls away. He smiles down at you as he grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it up and off, tossing it somewhere in the room. His gaze then falls to your breasts. He licks his lips hungrily. Before he can get too caught up, he hooks his thumbs into your shorts and pulls them and your panties down and off your legs, helping you step out of them.

He stands back up and pulls you in for another kiss, your hands fall to his chest. You start to unbutton his shirt, revealing his chest to you a little at a time. You pull away to get the last few buttons and push his shirt over his shoulders and are surprised to see his chest and abdomen sprinkled with various tattoos. You never would’ve guessed. You can’t help but let your hand trace over a quote on his collarbone or onto the eagle covering his pec.

“I never would have pegged you for a tattoo guy. These are amazing.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I only have them where they can be covered up by clothes.” He grabs your wrists to stop your tracing. “You can trace all of them some other time, pretty girl. Right now, I need to be inside of you.”

You can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine at his words. His dirty talk was going to be the death of you.

He moves his hands towards his belt buckle and starts undoing it. You couldn’t help but notice the slight tremble to his hands. You place your hands on top of his and look at his face. “Hey, if you don’t want to do this, that’s ok.”

He looks into your eyes and gives you a shy smile. “No, I want to. God, do I want to. It’s just, I haven’t been with anyone since Laurie and I guess I’m a little nervous.”

You couldn’t help the pull you felt at your heart at his words. He was nervous. Thank god. So were you. This beautiful man wanted to sleep with you, of course you were nervous. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous too. You’re kind of intimidating.”

He cocks his head to the side and furrows his brows. “Intimidating? Why is that?”

You remove your hands from his and gesture up and down his body. “Just look at you. You’re breathtaking, Andy. And I’m just me.” Your gaze falls down to your feet, unable to look at him.

He puts his finger under your chin and raises your head so that you’re forced to look at him. “Speak for yourself, pretty girl. You’re the breathtaking one.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Yeah, right.”

His gaze on you hardens just a little. He grabs your hand and places it over his pants against his erection. “Do you feel that? Feel what you do to me? Nobody but you can make me this hard, pretty girl. I’ve been in a constant state of arousal since I moved in, watching you coming in and out of your apartment in your tight skirts and almost see-through blouses. Making me go fuckin’ crazy.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything or make a move then?” Of course your self doubt was starting to creep in. Maybe this was him just wanting to get his dick wet. You needed to know.

He grabs your hands and brings your knuckles to his mouth, giving them a soft kiss. “Honestly? I thought there was no way in hell an old man like me would have a shot with a sweet thing like you.”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your mouth. “Please. You’re only 43.”

He pulls you in for a sweet, lingering kiss. “Yeah, well. Probably too old for you. But after what you said to me, about how you’re used to not being wanted? I stopped caring how old I was. I needed to show you just exactly how much you’re wanted. So, can I still show you, pretty girl?”

You quickly nod your head and help him finish removing his pants, leaving him in just his black briefs. The fabric doing nothing to hide the outline of his hard cock. Jesus. He looked big. Bigger than anything you’ve taken. You couldn’t wait.

You quickly pulled his briefs over his hips and down his legs. His cock sprang free and smacked against his inked abdomen, making him hiss. You grab him at the base and slowly start pumping him, looking at his face for his reaction. His head is thrown back and his eyes are closed as he moans out your name at the feeling. His hands are gripping your hips.

You smear his precum that’s gathered at the tip and use that to help jerk him off a little faster. You tighten your grip as you pick up your pace, loving the sounds you're pulling from him. You start to go on your knees when he suddenly pulls you back up. You look at him in confusion. “If I let you continue, this will be over before it even starts. Gonna make me blow my load like an inexperienced teenager.”

You couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself but once again furrow your brows as Andy walks to the other side of the bed. He starts looking around in your nightstand. “Do you have any condoms?”

You shake your head. “I did but they expired. If you’re okay with it, I’m on birth control. And I got tested after my last partner and I’m clean.”

He pushes the drawer to the nightstand back in and climbs onto the bed and lays on his back, hand lazily stroking his cock. “I’m more than okay with that. I just had a full work up done. I’m healthy as well.”

You barely acknowledge what he said, unable to remove your eyes from his hand that’s wrapped around his cock. You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth and let out a little whimper. Andy chuckles at you. “Well, are you going to just stare at it, pretty girl? Or are you going to hop on my lap and get comfy?”

That gets your attention. You meet his gaze. “You want me on top?”

He nods. “Wanna be able to see all of you, baby girl.” He removes his hand from his cock and pats his thigh. “Come on, pretty girl. Ride me.”

Well that sight just caused a new wave of arousal to pool at your core. You had only been on top once before and it was only for a short time.

You place your knees gently on the bed and crawl the short way to him. You swing your left leg over him so that you're sitting right above where he wants you. You thread your hands through his hair and lean down for a heated kiss. You lick his bottom lip, wanting in. He doesn’t even hesitate to open his mouth to let you in.

He places his left hand on your hip while the other grabs his cock. He pushes your body down so that you’re hovering over it. “Please. Fuck me, pretty girl.”

You keep your lips attached to his as you slowly sink down on him. You get about halfway before you stop and pull away to look at him, trying to slow down your breathing. He brings his right hand up to cup your cheek. “You ok? Do you wanna stop?” The quick shake of your head makes him chuckle. “No, god no. I just need a minute. You’re fucking huge Andy.”

He can’t help the cocky smirk that appears. “Yeah, I know. Just take all the time you need.” He rubs his hand up and down your back to help calm you down. It only takes you a few more seconds before you continue to impale yourself on his impressive dick.

You let out a breath of relief when your hips settle flush against his. He grabs the back of your head and pulls you in for another kiss. You slowly start rocking your hips against him. He feels fucking incredible. Hitting all the right spots inside of you.

You pull away from the kiss and raise up a little and plant your hands on your headboard for some leverage. The rock of your hips speed up significantly. You move all the way up until his tip is barely inside before you slam yourself back down against him. You’re pulling the most beautiful sounds from his lips. It makes you move that much faster and harder against him.

Andy moves his hands to your breasts and gives them a good squeeze. Then he starts pinching your nipples, eliciting a moan from you. “That’s it, baby girl. Doing so good. You look so gorgeous fuckin’ yourself on my cock. Goddamn. Riding me so well.”

The praise he’s giving you just spurs you on. You raise up even more and place your hands on his chest and pick up your pace just a little more. You can feel the coil tightening in your belly. You’re going to cum and hard.

Andy keeps his left hand on your breast and keeps pinching your nipple. He moves his right hand down until his thumb is pressing against your clit, giving you the friction you needed. “Can feel you squeezing me, pretty girl. Cum for me. Make a mess.”

He presses his thumb just a little harder and that’s all it takes. You free fall over the edge of bliss with a scream of Andy’s name, your hips faltering from their rhythm.

You slow down your pace as you come down from your high, collapsing against Andy’s chest. He cradles you in his arms and rubs his hands up and down your back. “Still with me, sweet girl?”

You weakly nod your head and take just a second to catch your breath. It takes you a moment to realize he didn’t finish. You raise your head off his chest to look at him. “Why didn’t you cum?”

He smiles and pulls you in for a sweet kiss. “Oh, I will. Don’t worry. Just wanted to watch you fall apart on top of me. And let me just say, it’s one of the prettiest sights I’ve ever seen. You look gorgeous when you cum, Y/N. Almost made me lose it. Think you can take some more?”

You nod your head eagerly, already wanting to cum around his cock again. “Then why don’t you be a good girl and turn around and get on your hands and knees for me?”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You quickly pull off of him and turn around to get on your hands and knees. He takes a second to admire the view of your once again dripping pussy before he gets up on his knees behind you. He grabs a hold of your ass and gives it a hard squeeze. “Such a nice ass. I bet it’ll jiggle real nice while I’m fuckin’ you.”

He grabs a hold of the base of his cock and moves it towards your entrance. Before he starts pushing in, he gives your right cheek a hard smack. You drop down onto your elbows and moan into the sheets below you. Fuck. You didn’t know you liked that. He places his right hand on your hip and squeezes.

“Hmm. We’ll have to revisit that later.” And that’s the last thing he says before he slams home. You arch your back and fist the sheets as he sets a hard and fast pace.

And boy was he right. Your ass does jiggle nicely with every snap of his hips against it. He threads his left hand through your hair and gives it a tug. It makes you clench around him. “Fuck, baby girl. Keep squeezing me like that and I’m not going to last long.”

You move your head to the side and peer back at him. You clench around him again and it earns you another groan and smack to your ass. “Want you to cum for me, Andy. Please. Fill me up.”

He stills for just a second and wraps his left arm around your chest and lifts you up until your back is flush against his chest. This time he keeps his thrusts nice and slow. He places a kiss to the side of your neck. “Yeah? Want me to fill that pussy up, huh? To claim you as mine?”

You let a whimper escape your lips and you grip onto his arm that’s holding you against him as he starts picking up the pace of his thrusts. You clench around him again. “I am yours, Andy.”

He quickly moves his right hand down and starts circling your clit. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re gonna make me cum. Cum with me, please.”

You start pushing back and meeting his thrusts, desperate to get him to his release.

It only takes a few more snaps of his hips and circles against your clit before you're both falling over the edge while moaning out the other's name.

He continues pumping his hips until he’s completely spent and gently moves to lay the both of you onto your sides, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms.

He slowly pulls out of you and turns you around so that you’re facing him. He tucks your now loose hair behind your ear. “Hi, there.”

You chuckle and move up against him and press your face into the crook of his neck. “Hello.” You place a gentle kiss to his pulse point and relax as he wraps his arms around you.

There’s only a few minutes of peaceful silence when:

“So, was that good for you?”

You pull away and look up at him with an incredulous look on your face and smack his shoulder. You both start laughing.

“Of course it was good for me. Did you enjoy yourself, Andrew?”

He pulls you in for another sweet kiss. “Oh, yeah. But you know. Just to be sure. We might need to do it again.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. It only makes you laugh once more.

“You are such a dork. How about we get a shower and then heat up the food you so rudely interrupted me from eating before?”

His jaw drops in mock hurt. “You weren’t complaining when I was making you come around my cock, pretty girl.”

You sit up and stretch your arms over your head. You swing your legs over the side and stand up, wobbling just a little. You hear a chuckle behind you and playfully send a glare his way as you make your way to the bathroom.

You turn on the light and can’t help but look at your reflection in the mirror.

Your hair is a hot mess, having fallen out of it’s ponytail. Your lips were swollen and red from all the kissing. Your nipples looked slightly red from all pinching they had been subjected to. Your skin flushed from the orgasms. And there was what looked like a bruise forming on your hip in the shape of his hand.

And yet. You’ve never felt more beautiful.

You see Andy walking up behind you in the mirror. He smiles at you.

You turn around and return it before throwing your arms around his neck and raising yourself up on your toes to pull him in for a kiss. He gladly wraps his arms around you and reciprocates.

You pull away with a smile still attached to your face. “Not that I mind, pretty girl. But, what was that for?”

You shrug. “Just thank you. For making me feel beautiful.”

He smiles down at you and pulls you in for another quick kiss. You can feel him hardening once again against your hip. “Why don’t we skip the shower for now? I’m not quite finished with you yet.”

And with that he pulls you back into the bedroom where he spends the rest of the night showing you that you’re his kind of beautiful.

Permanent Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @IIIoIs 

[mads-weasley]

Legacy Pt. 2: Aftermath

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Wow. Just wow. I posted part one two nights ago and I’ve already gotten such a huge positive response! It’s so encouraging so I thank you for being awesome!! Sadly, I do not own any of these amazing characters other than (y/n)! Part two is here!! It’s super long but it’s because I’m a sucker for fluff! Enjoy!!

Summary: After the first flag smasher fight, you are hurt and tired, especially after having to deal with John Walker. Luckily for you, a certain 106 year old super soldier is there to comfort you.

Warnings: hospitals, broken bones, flashbacks, sadness, nightmares, angst, fluff, John Walker (yes, that’s a warning)

(y/n) - your name

(y/l/n) - your last name

(y/n/n) - your nickname

(y/h/c) - your hair color

Your pov:

Every single word that Walker let slide out of his putrid mouth felt like it was digging into your skull. Your body was tired, sore, and broken. Oh, and don’t forget about your head. It was killing you; the constant pounding that made you want to throw up. Actually, you might throw up. There it goes. You quickly spin around and hurl off the side of the jeep. Bucky and Sam start frantically asking what’s wrong, and Bucky holds your hair out of your face. “Doll, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

Before you could even answer him, Walker speaks with a chuckle, “Be careful not to get puke on the side of the jeep, (y/n). It’s government property.” You’re pretty sure you heard Bucky contemplate killing him out loud, but he settled on yelling at him. “What the hell is your problem, man? She’s clearly not okay.” With your good hand, you grip his flesh one that’s still holding back your hair, telling him to calm down. No longer feeling the need to hurl, you turn around and sit down again. Doing so, you feel Walker’s eyes on you.

Bucky puts his hand protectively on your thigh, glaring at Walker, actively sending goosebumps across your body. Trying to hide your blush, “Gosh it’s hot,” you say while slightly unzipping the top of your suit, revealing a tank top underneath. You could practically feel Bucky tense up when Walker started talking again.

Putting your hand on top of his, you whisper, “I know you hate the guy, and I do too, but let’s try to keep it civil. Alright, Buck? I’m taking a nap so don’t kill him while I’m asleep.”

“No promises, doll. Should you really be sleeping? Did you hit your head?”

“I’ll be fine, James. We can get my hand and everything else checked out when we get back stateside.”

Reluctantly, he nods and you lay your head on his shoulder. You didn’t care that it was the metal one, and he realized this with a smile. He put his arm around you, careful not to hit your hand and you soon drifted off into sleep.

Bucky’s pov:

As she lays her in my arms, I can’t help but feel like there’s something she’s not telling me. I know her. I know what she does. She doesn’t tell anyone when she’s struggling because she doesn’t want them to think she’s weak. To me, I think she’s one of the strongest people I’ve met. That’s one of the reasons I love her. In this business, you can get consumed by all the death and destruction around you, but she is consistently a ray of sunshine in my dark world.

I’ve always dreamed of holding her in my arms like this, but not in these conditions. Walker keeps stealing glances at her sleeping figure with a despicable smirk and it’s making me so angry. The only thing stopping me from punching him is the fact that (y/n) is asleep in my arms.

The last time we were like this was that day in Wakanda; the day we dusted away. She was with me when it happened, and the scene still frequents my nightmares.

2018:

When we heard Steve’s call over the comms, “I need everyone on my position,” (y/n) and I stopped what we were doing and started that way. As we were running, she glanced back over her shoulder, making sure we were alone. “I have a bad feeling about this one, James.” Looking over to her, I saw fear in her eyes that I’d never seen before. “Don’t worry, doll, we’ll be alright. We always are. I’ll even take you out to dinner after this!” I tried to lighten the mood because I didn’t have the heart to tell her I felt the exact same way.

Since Berlin, I’ve had a crush on her, but she just saw me as a friend, which is fine with me if that’s what it takes to have her in my life. I’m snapped out of my thoughts by Steve’s voice and the sight of a huge purple being when we arrived to the main fight. “Eyes up. Stay sharp.” Steve says, walking towards the man who I assume is Thanos. As we all walked towards him, (y/n) reached out, grabbed, and squeezed my right hand. “Please be careful, Buck.” I squeezed her hand back, “Always. You too.” After releasing my hand with a nod, we prepare for the battle ahead of us.

One by one we were taken out without even touching Thanos. (Y/n) went ahead of me, throwing knives and shooting her pistols at him. With a flick of his head, purple matter appeared around her and she went flying into a tree. Rage coursed through my veins, and I went charging towards him, shooting my machine gun towards him. He moved his hand slightly and it was like I was hit by a truck mid-air. Landing with a thud, everything went black.

When I woke, I immediately looked over to (y/n) who was still unconscious. Sometimes I forgot she was just human. Her bravery and fearlessness made up for her lack in superhuman ability, but regardless, she could still take down the best of us.

Grunting, I get up and run over to her. “(Y/n)! (Y/n/n)! Wake up, doll.” My hands cup her cheeks as she slowly starts to flutter her eyes. “Attagirl,” I coo. “Bucky?” She starts, “Where’s everyone?” I gently pull her towards me so she could lay her head on my lap. “I don-“ I’m cut off by a big boom not too far away. She gets up slowly and starts to pull me towards the sound. My arm is secured around her waist to keep her upright.

After a few seconds of walking, she freezes and her breaths start to get rapid. I quickly turn to her just in time for her to say breathily, “James, what’s h-ha happening?” She slowly lowers to the floor and I go down as well, showering her with concerned questions. Leaning against my chest, she holds up her hand as it starts to turn to ash. “Wha-? (Y/n) y-you’re gonna be okay.” My eyes start to water as more of her arm fades away. I see tears coming down her face so I pull her in for a tight hug and she whispers, “James, thank yo-“ She never got to finish her sentence.

I’m yanked out of my flashback when Sam talks raises his voice. “You hacked my tech?!”

“Sorry,” Walker responds, “It’s not exactly hacking. Redwing’s government property.” His hands point to himself before finishing, “Kind of the government.”

Meeting his eyes, I see them flicker at (y/n) chest before coming back to my own. I glare at him like I’ve been doing all day. “Does he always just stare like that?” After a few seconds, Sam nods, “You get used to it.”

Looking at (y/n), Walker speaks. “She’s something, isn’t she? I could use a woman like her by my side.” Sam and I share a disbelieving look before snapping our gaze back to him. Before I had the chance to speak, Sam commented, “You better watch your mouth, Walker. I can only take so much of you ogling over her like she’s a prize to be won. She’s too good for you. Anyways, she’s with someone.” What? Who is she with? She sure hasn’t told me anything!

Sam sends me a knowing look before it clicks. Me. He was talking about me. I’ve never told Sam how I felt about her, but I guess he figured it out. Narrowing my eyes at Walker, he understands what we are saying. “Too bad. She’s a looker, alright.” I have to control myself from lashing out at him and Sam senses this.

He brings up the Flag Smashers to change the subject. They started rambling about the GRC, and I finally engaged in the conversation when Walker asked us to help him. “If you guys joined up with us, we could-“

“No.” I interjected.

John’s friend spoke up, “Look, I got mad respect for all three of y’all, but you were kinda getting your asses kicked until we showed up.”

“Especially her.” Walker said it under his breathe so he didn’t meant for anyone to hear it. The only reason I did was because of my super hearing.

“What did you just say?!” I practically yell at him in anger. I have no idea how (y/n) wasn’t woken up by this.

“You know what I said.”

“Stop the car!” I told the driver.

Gently picking the sleeping figure next to me up bridal style, I step out of the car. John calls out to me but I just keep on walking away with (y/n) in my arms. “Tell me when she wakes up, I have a question I want to ask her.” What does that mean? I look down at her, seeing the purple bruise that blossomed on her cheekbone, her black and blue hand, and can’t help but wish I didn’t call her. Nothing is worth her getting hurt like this.

Sam and I walk to the airport where we board a plane to Washington D.C. (Y/n) is still asleep and I’m starting to worry about her. As soon as we get stateside, the first thing I’m going to do is make sure she gets to the hospital.

Your pov:

When you start to wake up, you feel as if you’re under water. You have a terrible headache that makes you wonder if your skull was split open. Hearing the ambient noise surrounding you, you take it in; steady beeping of a machine, a ticking clock, and heavy breathing coming from your right.

After a few failed attempts, you successfully cracked your eyes open. Looking around, you realized you were in a hospital room. As your eyes roamed the room, you spotted a head of familiar brown hair laying on your right hand. You lift your left hand only for it to feel stiff and very sore. Looking at it, you see your arm in a cast and a black cast that extended from your wrist to just past your knuckles.

This movement woke Bucky up, causing him to look up sleepily. His hair was a mess and it looked like he hadn’t slept long at all. He sheepishly smiles.

“Hey doll. How are you feeling?”

Trying to sit up, you groan slightly. “Sore. Very sore, but I’m okay.”

He takes a deep breath and connects his eyes with yours. “This is all my fault, (y/n/n). I shouldn’t have called you. You wouldn’t be in here if it wasn’t for me.”

“James. You know I would’ve gotten involved either way. Anyways, I’ve been hurt worse. There was no need to make a big fuss about me. I’m fine.”

“It doesn’t matter that you’ve gotten hurt worse. I wasn’t there those times to keep you safe, an-and I failed you today.” His soft voice betrayed him when it cracked at the end of the sentence, his eyes becoming glossy.

“You did not fail me, Buck. I just was careless and took a few hard hits. By the way, I’m pretty sure I would have two broken hands if it weren’t for you. That’s all that was hurt anyways.”

His face suddenly turns serious. “Why didn’t tell me about your head? You have a concussion.”

Crap, here comes overprotective Bucky. “A: It wasn’t bad, and B: I didn’t want to worry you.”

Letting out a huff of air, he fires back, “You think I don’t worry about you? Even when we’re not on missions, I worry about you! You’re always on my mind and I’ll always worry about you.”

Wow. Did he really just say that? You shake it off as him being your best friend. “James, you don’t have to worry about me. Like I’ve said a thousand times, I’m fine!“

“You’re so frustrating, (y/n). I’m trying to be there for you, but you have to let me be there. What else aren’t you telling me?”

Doing his signature Bucky stare, you’re pretty sure he can hear your heartbeat rising. “James, that’s it. I’m fine. I didn’t tell you about it because it didn’t hurt.”

“Stop lying! I know you, okay? I know how you hate to feel weak and that’s why you don’t tell anyone when you’re struggling or hurting. You’re no-“

“That’s not fair, Buck!“

“Please. Let me finish.” His voice lowers to a little louder than a whisper, which was very hot. “You are not weak, and letting people in doesn’t make them think you are. I’m here for you. You are the most important person in my life and I’m not gonna stop until I know that you’re okay.” His glossy eyes return as they roam your face.

All the time you’d known Bucky, he’d always turned into mush with you, but this was different. The way he was talking about you made it sound like he liked you as more than a friend, even a best friend. You knew you loved him, but how did he feel? This was your chance to tell him.

You removed your good hand from his and placed it on his cheek. He leans into it and places his hand over yours. “You’re the most important person to me, too. And I-I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a long time, James. I lo-“ You’re cut off by a loud ringtone coming from his phone. Sighing, he apologizes before answering it. After a short conversation with the person on the phone, he closes his eyes in discontent.

“I’m so sorry, doll. I’ve got to meet Sam in a few minutes. He says hi, by the way.” He gets up, presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, and quietly leaves the room. A few seconds later, his head pops back in the doorway. “Buck,” you ask. “What are you doing?”

He looks conflicted before quickly walking towards the bed and smashing his lips onto yours. It takes you a few seconds to process what was happening but as soon as you did, you kissed him back. His flesh hand was resting against your jaw, while the smooth metal one was running through your hair. Your good hand was wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

After about a heated 10 second make out session, you pull apart smiling, your foreheads against each other’s. Out of breath, you both pant. Bucky speaks first. “I should have done that a long time ago.”

“Yes. You should have. Now, go meet Sam, I’m not going anywhere.”

With a chuckle, he gives you a quick kiss on your temple before walking out of the room. He’s got the biggest smile you’ve ever seen and your pretty sure your facial expression is the same.

You couldn’t count how many times over the years you’ve wanted to do that. It was everything you had dreamed it would be. Bucky, who was known for his brute strength, became the most gentle person when your lips were locked. To be fair, he was always gentle with you, but this was different.

Sighing in content, you look to your left. There’s a paper with sloppy handwriting you could tell was Bucky’s. Using your good hand to wipe away a happy tear that had escaped your eye, you picked it up. The paper read: “mild concussion, four broken carpal bones in left hand, pulled left bicep.” Wow, that’s not as bad as you thought your injury list was going to be.

No matter how hard you tried, your mind kept drifting to Bucky and the moment you’d just shared. Trying not to think about him or your feeling towards him so you could get some sleep, you close your eyes and wait for peace to come.

Opening your eyes, you’re no longer in the hospital; you’re right back in Wakanda, the day you came back from the blip. About to step through the portal to an unrecognizable battlefield, you felt a familiar smooth metal hand grab yours. “Hey doll.” He says. Before you can register what is happening, you throw your arms around him. He immediately reciprocates the hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His hot breaths against your skin made your heart skip a beat.

Breaking up the moment, T’Challa approached you, “It’s time, my friends.” Pulling apart, Bucky placed a kiss on your cheek that made both of them turn pink. Going through the portals hand in hand, you and Bucky join the hundreds of heroes blipped back, ready to fight Thanos’ army. At Steve’s, “Avengers, Assemble.” You all run towards the enemy.

You tried to stay close to Bucky, but we were separated soon after the fighting began. After stabbing one of the monstrous creatures, you look to the right and see a member of the Black Order sneaking up behind Bucky, who was fighting one of the same creatures you just had been. “Bucky!! Behind you!! Buck! James!!” You screamed, trying to run to him, but your body was frozen in place. The screams you had tried to emit didn’t even leave your throat. Tears quickly filling your eyes, you fought with everything you could just to yell or move towards him.

The Black Order member, who you identified as Corvus Glaive, was now feet away from Bucky. In one swift motion, he brought his spear back before ramming it into Bucky’s lower back, it coming out his stomach, making a cry of pain escape his lips. “NO!!! BUCKY!!” Suddenly you had control of yourself again and sprinted towards him. Corvus jerked the blade out of Bucky, disappearing into the battle.

Tears were streaming down your face as you fell to your knees at his side, taking his flesh hand. “You’re gon-gonna be okay, James. We’re gonna get Shuri a-“

“Why?” He weakly started before stopping to cough, “Why didn’t y-you warn m-me? You’re so weak. You couldn’t even save the man you love.” The hand in yours went limp, and his blue eyes dulled.

“NO!” You sobbed, unable to hold in your grief. His words repeated in your mind; “You couldn’t even save the man you love.” “You’re so weak.”

Screaming, you shoot up from your hospital bed, covered in sweat. Nurses came running in, but you quickly dismissed them, just saying it was a nightmare. That specific nightmare visits you almost every time you slept. Sleeping on Bucky’s shoulder was the first time in months that you’ve actually gotten good sleep, granted it was partly due to your concussion. This didn’t deter you from thinking he definitely had something to do with it.

A few minutes after waking up, your phone went off beside the bed. You saw Sam’s name on the screen and got worried.

“Sam, what’s wrong?”

“Dang, girl. Such the pessimist.... but there is actually something wrong. Bucky got arrested.”

Suddenly you were wide awake.

“WHAT!? WHY??”

“He missed his therapy. You gotta get here soon.”

“Where are you?”

“Baltimore. I’ll send you the address.”

Tag List:

@confusednerd09 @ahahafudge @bluemoon-icecream @lunamadhatter99 @thatfangirl42 @fionanovasleftnut

[uwurakax]

boy, i need you ♡

pairing: akaashi x reader ♡

genre: angst // cheating // minimal swearing // suggestive (not explicit) ♡

summary: he knew it was wrong, every fibre of his being told him it needed to end with you. so why couldn’t he bring himself to do it? ♡

♡ sequel to ‘boy, i hate you’ - read the first part here ♡

word count: 2k ♡

author’s note: warning, not proofread or anything! wasn’t planning on part 2, but then it was brought up and i thought “hey i can work w a 2nd pt”. reader has no gender mentioned - but again ig default fem if theres vibes here? idk. also have a note at the end so there’s no spoilers here haha. excuse the crappy writing as always - my 2am brain refuses to work at any other time ty for coming to my tedtalk that no one cares about ✌️ ♡

♡ (inspired by f.u by little mix) ♡

unfaithful

/ʌnˈfeɪθfʊl,ʌnˈfeɪθf(ə)l/

adjective

1. engaging in intimate relations with a person other than one’s regular partner in contravention of a previous promise or understanding

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Akaashi couldn’t say exactly why his infidelity started. Honestly there was nothing inherently wrong with your relationship. You were amazing, loyal, kind and everything he could ever want in a partner. He supposed at one point he was like that to you. Not anymore though. He could never be like that ever again. Not when he found comfort in the arms of another. Another that wasn’t you.

Akaashi knew it was wrong. Wholeheartedly he wanted to free you of the unforgivable. Did he take advantage of your sweet behaviour? Deep down inside, he knew he was. The cheap thrill of loving somebody else while you waited patiently for him back at home. Back at the home the both of you had made together. The home that he had inadvertently tainted with the presence of another. 

This is the last time.

How many times would he tell himself that? That the momentary pleasure he got from her was just that. That he’d stop before it went too far. 

Over a year later was already beyond what was classified as ‘too far’.

He couldn’t kid himself into thinking it was just a brief lapse in judgement anymore. Not when he didn’t stop. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to you in the slightest. How could he do that? To the one he promised to love. The one to always be there for you, care for you. To do everything a good boyfriend should do. 

To never, ever be the reason for your tears.

He knew he didn’t have the right to feel this way. It was selfish. Completely and utterly selfish. But when he’d come home and find you there waiting for him, while he was whispering sweet nothings, words that should’ve only been reserved for you, to somebody else just minutes prior, he couldn’t help but feel his heart ache. Akaashi, ever so observant, noticed that you stopped faking your smile. He remembers the first time he saw it. 

5 months after his unfaithfulness began, something he swore that’d happen just once, he saw the look on your face. The warm smile you had greeted him with just earlier that morning before he left, was now gone. This smile wasn’t as bright, and the shine didn’t reach your eyes. He didn’t like this smile. It was beautiful of course, because it was from you, but he didn’t like how fake it was. You had given him some half-assed excuse.

“I’m just a little tired Keiji”

He knew you too well. Knew you were lying to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to press on further. Day after day, your smile continued to drop. Further and further, until it was some terrible imitation of the one he had fallen in love with years ago. No matter how much you tried to hide it, he would always notice the slight redness in the whites of your eyes. Dark and puffy under-eyes that you tried desperately to conceal. The tone of your voice, no longer lively and cheerful. He supposed after a year, you just didn’t want to pretend to be okay anymore. 

This will be the last time.

He’d break it off with you. His silent promises to spare you from anymore pain. The guilt ate away at him, feeling the nausea rise in his stomach. You deserved someone better than him, someone who would treat you the way you should be treated. He used to be that guy. Where did that man go? What happened to him? He supposed he didn’t have the right to be that person anymore.

He was always so tense thinking on what to say to you. On how to finally admit his wrongdoings. Whether you knew of his actions behind your back, finally voicing them out would be the nail in the coffin. The confirmation that he was indeed doing the things that you were suspecting him of. Perhaps thats why you could never ask or actually push forward with it.

Because even if you knew, with great certainty, you could deceive yourself into thinking he was still the boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

Akaashi only received a fleeting moment of peace from his thoughts of you when she was around. He absolutely despised it. It was despicable how he could find a sense of safety in her arms. It should’ve been you, only you. It was wrong. Completely and utterly wrong, and yet he couldn’t help but think it felt right. It was wicked and evil, there was no other way to put it. Her hands. Her kisses. Her touch. All the moments with her made him forget about you, if only for a brief period. The gentle feel and traces of her were like invisible tattoos, covering all the places you had marked, kissed and touched.

It was all just too intoxicating for him. From her silky smooth hair to the softness of her skin. However, when he ran his fingers all over her body, he couldn’t help but think of you. God he was pathetic. So, so badly he knew it was wrong. He already had you, had your love, had everything you had to give. So why would he run for comfort to her, only to end up wishing it was you instead? It didn’t make sense, and he couldn’t understand it at all.

“Keiji, why don’t you stay the night?”

“I can’t, I’m sorry”

“It can’t keep going on like this. You guys should break up. Then you wouldn’t have to keep going back there, and then you can finally stay here with me. Isn’t that what you want?”

No, it wasn’t. It was probably the reason why he’d never stay over with her. Because he always wanted to come home to you. If he didn’t want to stay with her, if he didn’t sleep in the same bed with her, if he didn’t want to hold her hand - everything he wanted to do with you - why did he still do it? Why! Why! Why! It constantly plagued his mind. He was just selfish.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

And so, Akaashi sat in his car, with his grip on the steering wheel, thinking of the words to say. He knew he needed to be delicate, but firm. To the point, but not blunt. ‘This will be the last time’, he says to himself. The last time he thinks of the words to say. The last time he sits in his car contemplating about everything. The last time he has to hurt you. He’ll let you go, let you cry, even let you throw any object in reach to let out your frustrations on him. Just as long as he didn’t have to hurt you anymore. With a shaky breath, he unlocks the car door and steadies himself. He makes his way to house you both shared, hand on the handle as he closes his eyes. It’s time to face the music.

He quietly opens and closes the door behind him, setting his belongings on the dark oak table sat next to the door. He hears you in the kitchen, your feet padding around on the tiled floor. He makes his way there and freezes. You’re slaving away in a large t-shirt and shorts just a bit too big for you. They’re his without a doubt. You hear his shoes clicking against the floor and turn around to face him.

“Welcome home Keiji”

He hated that the gleam in your eyes was gone, and that your lips had to form a smile way too forced. He hated what he had done to you.

“I’m making your favourite, it should be ready in about 10 minutes”

With that, Akaashi loses all composure. He steps forward, his long legs carrying himself towards the stove top, situating himself behind you. He reaches around to turn it off, and moves the pot to the next hotplate. You turn around to question him, only to end up surprised at how close he was. You’re flustered, and he can easily tell how nervous you are at the way your eyes dart at anywhere else but him.

The temperatures rising in your body, and you swear that Akaashi can feel it steaming out of you. He closes the distance quickly, and soon enough your tongues are fighting for dominance against each other. He was in such bliss, it was like your lips were moulded to be with his. In moments like this he could forget. When your touch covered the traces of her. When your taste overwhelmed hers. He wanted you imprinted on him again. But he knew, knew that soon enough, he’d wash it away with his mistress. A continuous cycle of you and her. Disgustingly selfish.

This will be the last time.

The last time he takes your hand. The last time he has the pleasure of kissing you. The last time he undresses you. He takes his time, drinking in your form under the moonlight. Not even the darkness could overshadow your light. He knows you do the same, your eyes focused on him now. You push him forward so he falls back on the plush mattress. Why would he ever think about anyone else? He knew this had to be the last. The last time he’d let his eyes fall over you. He needed to save these moments in his head so he’d never forget.

The last luxury he’d have of you.

So he’d soak it all in, ingrain it forever. He needed to remember it vividly so he could look back. Look back at the idiot he was for ever hurting you in this way. He didn’t deserve you in the slightest. He thought that if he could capture every last detail, it could be the least of his karma. To miss what he took for granted.

How many times had he thought that himself?

And at the end of it all, he’ll just lay there. In the bittersweet afterglow of the love you two had shared. He’ll close his eyes and prepare himself to lose it all. Lose you. You think he’s asleep as he’s so still and his breathing so even. You’ll comb your fingers through his hair, just like you always do, and mumble quietly about your devotion to him.

“I love you, so much Keiji”

You pray he doesn’t hear you, but he does. As clear as day, you whisper confessions of love and admiration for him. He knows he doesn’t deserve it. Not in the slightest, not at all.

But the gentle kiss you place on his lips has him reeling, and his resolve cracks. He can’t do it, because he’s just that selfish. He knows that in the end, it won’t be the last time. He’ll go through it all again. The guilt will eat him alive. The feel of bile on the tip of his tongue no longer phasing him - he’s gotten used to the taste. He’ll break your trust, again and again, and then carelessly attempt to put the pieces back together, just to shatter them more. It’s cruel, he knows this. He wishes you’d just insult him. Cuss him out. Do anything, but show him love over and over. He loves you, he truly does, and he knows how horrific it is to do this to somebody you claim to love. He just wants you to hurt him, tell him what a disgusting asshole he is, how he’s a piece of shit, a waste of space. Any and everything you can think of.

But you don’t.

And while you continue to show him affection, he’ll drown in the abyss of despair that he, himself put him in. Because during these moments he could pretend that you actually loved him. That you didn’t know of his cheating ways. That he wasn’t touching you with the same hands that held someone else.

So tomorrow it’ll all start over, and the cycle will continue. He’ll keep on breaking your heart, and you’ll both pretend to be okay with it. No matter how many times he told himself it would be the last.

He hoped that one day he wouldn’t be such a coward. That he would finally cut the strings that tied you both together and just end it. Akaashi knew it was wrong, but he was just that selfish and hypocritical.

extra: IM SORRY! i know this probably wasn’t the part 2 that was wanted but 🤟😭 i couldn’t help myself! pls give any akaashi merch hugs and kithes 🥺🥺 my friend told me this mad him mad at him (i was going for sad, so im sorry if you get angry 😭) 💕✨ tysm if you read it 💝

[a-secret-bolton-vampire]

Daenerys Stormborn, Part 2: Wake the Dragon

Oh hey, I have part 2 already! Guess my brain is really focused on Dany now. In part 1, I talked about Dany's arcs from AGOT to ASOS, exploring the narrative and thematic purpose of her journey. However, the most important part of her journey occurs in ADWD, and sets the stage for some incredibly exciting developments to come in TWOW. For part 2, I'll be talking about the gradual transformation of Daenerys into a slightly different, darker character for the future.

Breaker of Chains & Mhysa

Slavery has been an important background element throughout Dany's time in Essos, even in AGOT, but it becomes front and centre in ASOS. She accepted the Dothraki, a society that uses slaves for many things, and wasn't too perturbed at the use of slaves in Qarth. However, it is in Astapor where she finally realizes just how bad the institution is, as she tells Xaro:

"Whence came this madness? Should I count myself fortunate that you did not free my own slaves when you were my guest in Qarth?" I was a beggar queen and you were Xaro of the Thirteen, Dany thought, and all you wanted were my dragons. "Your slaves seemed well treated and content. It was not till Astapor that my eyes were opened."

As mentioned last time, ASOS is when she begins to take control of her destiny, and she does so by beginning a revolution to free the slaves of Slaver's Bay. She believe she has a greater destiny lying ahead of her, that there is a reason for her dragons, the red comet. She also has great empathy for people and sees this disturbing injustice being played out with nobody to stop it. But she has the power to do so, and thus she begins by going fire and blood at Astapor, killing the Good Masters and freeing all the slaves. Afterwards, she leaves the city with a ruling council of a priest, a scholar, and a healer and moves to Yunkai.

She does a different approach with Yunkai, negotiating with the Wise Masters to surrender their slaves and to leave them in peace. And then when she arrives at Meereen, she decides to stay and rule as its queen. This is where things begin to get difficult for Daenerys. The ruling council of Astapor is overthrown by a butcher named Cleon, who said the council was conspiring to bring back slavery, who declares himself King of Astapor, enslaves the children of the former Good Masters to make new Unsullied, and tries to ally with Daenerys against Yunkai, who has resumed slavery.

Daenerys is not interested in any war with Yunkai. The reason she stays in Meereen is exactly because she learned what happened when she left Astapor. The fire and blood approach didn't work. You can't just dismantle such a deeply engrained system so easily. So instead she opts to rule, and protect the people she can. While a lot of readers view Dany's actions in Meereen as pointless, the whims of a naive girl, and poor leadership, I actually think it's the opposite.

For starters, Dany realized that she can't simply burn the slavers to end slavery, but she needs to stay and instill changes. While King Cleon repeatedly begs for Daenerys to join the war against Yunkai, she refuses, and warns Cleon to not do such a thing. She turns out to be horribly right, as Cleon is killed, Astapor is sieged, before being slaughtered, burned, and sacked, to be reinstated as a slave city once more. Likewise, the Yunkish siege Meereen, first by creating a blockade in the bay with ships, and then by having armies amassed outside the city walls.

In addition, refugees from Astapor begin to pile up outside the city, and a deadly plague called the pale mare (for the horse from Astapor that arrives at Meereen) begins to sweep the starving Astapori freedmen, who begin to resort to cannibalism to survive. Dany blames herself for leaving Astapor a mess, but does not wish to have the same thing happen in Meereen. She wants to protect the people she's freed, not just from the Yunkish, but herself as well.

When a sheepherder brings the burned bones of his daughter, Hazzea, who was killed by her dragons, Dany has Rhaegal and Viserion chained in the dungeons below the Great Pyramid to prevent them from causing any more harm. However, Drogon is still loose, unable to be found. In addition, when the sons of the harpy, a terrorist group opposed to the emancipation of Meereen, begin massacring freedmen, Dany decides to raise a tax on the Great Masters and have all families of suspect loyalty send a child to serve as a hostage and cupbearers. Yet, as the killings continue, she has grown close to the children and decides not to have them killed.

Now, some of you may notice that I am taking a lot from the Meereenese Blot essays written by Adam Feldman. That's not only because they are really well written essays, but ones that GRRM himself has approved of.

"I read those when someone pointed them out to me, and I was really pleased with them, because at least one guy got it. He got it completely, he knew exactly what I was trying to do there, and evidently I did it well enough for people who were paying attention."

So I am retreading some of the ground Feldman has laid, but it's important to do so if I am to build up to what I think is going to happen in the future of Dany's story.

As Feldman notes, Dany's own actions (or in the case of the cupbearers, inaction) actually made a peace possible, because the Yunkish saw that she was someone who is capable of mercy and not a (in their eye) violent mass murderer. Knowing what happened with Astapor, and seeing what happens when her dragons are unleashed with Hazzea, Dany decides to make peace with the Yunkish and marry Hizdahr.

Under the peace, Meereen itself would remain a free city, but the Yunkish would continue to sell slaves. They even sell them in markets outside the walls of Meereen, which displeases Daenerys extremely. In addition, slaveowners could bring their slaves into Meereen without fear of them being freed, and the Yunkish promised to respect the rights of the freedmen in Meereen. Yet, despite the peace and the progress made, she feels as though this is a defeat.

This is peace, she told herself. This is what I wanted, what I worked for, this is why I married Hizdahr. So why does it taste so much like defeat?

The thing is, Daenerys has had to sacrifice so much of herself and her morals to get to this point. Yes there is peace, even if it is tentative, Meereen would not be sacked by the Yunkish, but slavery is still going on, and she thinks that she has let herself and other people down by agreeing to peace and allowing the Yunkish to continue slavery. She has agreed to peace to people she loathes and thinks are despicable, she has married a man she does not love and does not love her, she has chained her dragons in the pit below, she has allowed the fighting pits to reopen. This comes to ahead at Daznak's Pit when she is at the height of her discomfort.

The boar buried his snout in Barsena's belly and began rooting out her entrails. The smell was more than the queen could stand. The heat, the flies, the shouts from the crowd … I cannot breathe. She lifted her veil and let it flutter away. She took her tokar off as well. The pearls rattled softly against one another as she unwound the silk.

And then Drogon arrives, and in the chaos of him attacking the boar and being attacked by the soldiers in the pit, Dany tries to calm him, but he spits fire at her, and she tries to tame him by whipping him into submission. Here, Dany is quite literally fighting herself. She herself in this moment represents the Queen of Meereen, someone who desires for peace. Meanwhile, Drogon represents the dragon inside her, who wants to unleash blood and fire on her enemies. In the end, Dany climbs onto Drogon and they fly away together, which foreshadows and symbolizes Dany's later decision to choose being the dragon.

Despite her frustrations in Meereen, the peace was a good first step. Not to say that it solved every issue, it didn't, but that doesn't need to be the end of it. Daenerys could forge new peaces, new agreements, and if she stayed in Meereen, she could implement great changes throughout Slaver's Bay. But what is done is done, and cannot be undone. The peace that was forged is now gone. Next comes war.

The House with the Red Door

Before we move on to Dany's final chapter and what that means for the future, we must take a look at a very important part of her backstory which is one of the main elements of her own story. Sure, destiny, greatness, prophecy, power, and identity are themes with Daenerys, but at the center of it all is the desire for home. Dany was born on Dragonstone, but was whisked away to Braavos, and there she lived in the house with the red door, with Viserys, Ser Willem Darry, and their servants.

To Dany, the house with the red door was the only place in her life she called home, and she has very fond memories of it, of Willem, or the lemon tree. But after Willem died, they were kicked out and forced to become beggars on the streets, selling off their possessions and travelling the Free Cities. The red door was closed and gone forever after, but the dream of having a home hasn't.

Daenerys has a desire for home, for love, for family. Throughout her childhood, Viserys would tell Dany all about Westeros, how they need to take back the Iron Throne, that the Seven Kingdoms were the most beautiful lands in the world. And sure enough, soon, Westeros represents the idea for home and belonging to Dany.

"I pray for home too," she told him, believing it. Ser Jorah laughed. "Look around you then, Khaleesi." But it was not the plains Dany saw then. It was King's Landing and the great Red Keep that Aegon the Conqueror had built. It was Dragonstone where she had been born. In her mind's eye they burned with a thousand lights, a fire blazing in every window. In her mind's eye, all the doors were red.

Although she takes on the mantle as the new head of House Targaryen and carries on Viserys's dream of taking back the Iron Throne out of a sense of duty, she also does so for desire to belong in a place she can call home. It's a nostalgic feeling she gets of the old days, that she wants to relive again.

But then other ambitions get in her way. She frees the slaves of Slaver's Bay, and decides to stay in Meereen to try to ensure that her revolution succeeds. Thus, her quest for home is put on hold. Throughout ADWD, she gives up parts of herself, to try to become one with the Meereenese; marrying Hizdahr, reopening the fighting pits, chaining her dragons, dressing in the Ghiscari fashion, and making peace. But in the Dothraki sea, hundreds of miles outside Meereen, she finds that she wasn't being her true self, that she can never be the Queen of Meereen, or become a true Meereenese.

I must keep walking. Water flows downhill. The stream will take me to the river, and the river will take me home. Except it wouldn't, not truly. Meereen was not her home, and never would be. It was a city of strange men with strange gods and stranger hair, of slavers wrapped in fringed tokars, where grace was earned through whoring, butchery was art, and dog was a delicacy. Meereen would always be the Harpy's city, and Daenerys could not be a harpy.

The series is all about the human heart in conflict with itself, and Daenerys in ADWD is one of the best examples of that. She was struggling with her two competing titles of Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, but in the end she was not comfortable with being the Breaker of Chains. This final transformation she undergoes in the Dothraki sea really sets the tone for what she will do in the future, and how she will change as a person and character.

Mother of Dragons

Daenerys X is one of the more bizarre chapters in the series, since it follows only one character alone with her thoughts, but it works extremely well as a character study, and the development over the course of the chapter is one of my favourites in the whole series. Through all the hallucinations and visions and dreams Daenerys has during this chapter, it's important to remember that they all (apart from possibly Quaithe) are her, so the discussions she has are with her own internal thoughts directly.

The topic of Targaryen madness reoccurs throughout the series, but it's ADWD where it is brought up the most. Now, the topic of Targaryen madness will be another post i will do in the far future and won't discuss in depth today, but the matter is that Dany is aware of some of it, even if she hasn't fully accepted the truth of her father. She fears that she is succumbing to the madness at points.

"Your Grace?" Missandei stood in the door of the queen's bedchamber, a lantern in her hand. "Who are you talking to?" Dany glanced back toward the persimmon tree. There was no woman there. No hooded robe, no lacquer mask, no Quaithe. A shadow. A memory. No one. She was the blood of the dragon, but Ser Barristan had warned her that in that blood there was a taint. Could I be going mad? They had called her father mad, once.

Later, she implies this fear again to Barristan.

I lived in fear for fourteen years, my lord. I woke afraid each morning and went to sleep afraid each night … but my fears were burned away the day I came forth from the fire. Only one thing frightens me now." "And what is it that you fear, sweet queen?" "I am only a foolish young girl." Dany rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. "But not so foolish as to tell you that. My men shall look at these ships. Then you shall have my answer."

But in an early version of Daenerys III, the answer Daenerys gave was "myself". She fears what would happen if she "woke the dragon", as Viserys put it. She's afraid of succumbing to the madness that consumed her father and probably was consuming Viserys. She's afraid of what would happen if she unleashed her dragons, how many innocents they would kill. But in the Dothraki sea, she begins to question her decisions, starting when she woke up after finding blood between her thighs:

"I am the blood of the dragon," she told the grass, aloud. Once, the grass whispered back, until you chained your dragons in the dark. "Drogon killed a little girl. Her name was … her name …" Dany could not recall the child's name. That made her so sad that she would have cried if all her tears had not been burned away. "I will never have a little girl. I was the Mother of Dragons." Aye, the grass said, but you turned against your children.

The importance of this quote cannot go unnoticed. She thinks about Hazzea all the time throughout the book, feeling deeply guilty about what Drogon did to her. But here, at the end, she cannot remember her name. The in world explanation is that, of course, she is delirious from being in the wilderness eating berries and being sick, but thematically this is her slowly turning away from the people she freed. Next comes a dream with Viserys (long quote incoming):

She dreamt of her dead brother. Viserys looked just as he had the last time she'd seen him. His mouth was twisted in anguish, his hair was burnt, and his face was black and smoking where the molten gold had run down across his brow and cheeks and into his eyes. "You are dead," Dany said. Murdered. Though his lips never moved, somehow she could hear his voice, whispering in her ear. You never mourned me, sister. It is hard to die unmourned. "I loved you once." Once, he said, so bitterly it made her shudder. You were supposed to be my wife, to bear me children with silver hair and purple eyes, to keep the blood of the dragon pure. I took care of you. I taught you who you were. I fed you. I sold our mother's crown to keep you fed. "You hurt me. You frightened me." Only when you woke the dragon. I loved you. "You sold me. You betrayed me." No. You were the betrayer. You turned against me, against your own blood. They cheated me. Your horsey husband and his stinking savages. They were cheats and liars. They promised me a golden crown and gave me this. He touched the molten gold that was creeping down his face, and smoke rose from his finger. "You could have had your crown," Dany told him. "My sun-and-stars would have won it for you if only you had waited." I waited long enough. I waited my whole life. I was their king, their rightful king. They laughed at me. "You should have stayed in Pentos with Magister Illyrio. Khal Drogo had to present me to the dosh khaleen, but you did not have to ride with us. That was your choice. Your mistake." Do you want to wake the dragon, you stupid little whore? Drogo's khalasar was mine. I bought them from him, a hundred thousand screamers. I paid for them with your maidenhead. "You never understood. Dothraki do not buy and sell. They give gifts and receive them. If you had waited …" I did wait. For my crown, for my throne, for you. All those years, and all I ever got was a pot of molten gold. Why did they give the dragon's eggs to you? They should have been mine. If I'd had a dragon, I would have taught the world the meaning of our words. Viserys began to laugh, until his jaw fell away from his face, smoking, and blood and molten gold ran from his mouth.

The dream terrifies Daenerys, but once again, Viserys (really herself here) is telling her she is stalling in a place she doesn't belong, that she needs to go home, that she should embrace being a dragon. The climax of this comes right after she realizes Meereen would never be her home, where she argues with Jorah (again, herself):

Meereen would always be the Harpy's city, and Daenerys could not be a harpy. Never, said the grass, in the gruff tones of Jorah Mormont. You were warned, Your Grace. Let this city be, I said. Your war is in Westeros, I told you. The voice was no more than a whisper, yet somehow Dany felt that he was walking just behind her. My bear, she thought, my old sweet bear, who loved me and betrayed me. She had missed him so. She wanted to see his ugly face, to wrap her arms around him and press herself against his chest, but she knew that if she turned around Ser Jorah would be gone. "I am dreaming," she said. "A waking dream, a walking dream. I am alone and lost." Lost, because you lingered, in a place that you were never meant to be, murmured Ser Jorah, as softly as the wind. Alone, because you sent me from your side. "You betrayed me. You informed on me, for gold." For home. Home was all I ever wanted. "And me. You wanted me." Dany had seen it in his eyes. I did, the grass whispered, sadly. "You kissed me. I never said you could, but you did. You sold me to my enemies, but you meant it when you kissed me." I gave you good counsel. Save your spears and swords for the Seven Kingdoms, I told you. Leave Meereen to the Meereenese and go west, I said. You would not listen. "I had to take Meereen or see my children starve along the march." Dany could still see the trail of corpses she had left behind her crossing the Red Waste. It was not a sight she wished to see again. "I had to take Meereen to feed my people." You took Meereen, he told her, yet still you lingered. "To be a queen." You are a queen, her bear said. In Westeros. "It is such a long way," she complained. "I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl." No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words. "Fire and Blood," Daenerys told the swaying grass.

And here is where everything changes. She has spent time trying to protect innocent lives, to make peace, not war, to be loved and accepted by Meereen. But here, she decides that it is time to do away with that. Meereen is not her home, Westeros is, and it's time to wake the dragon and burn Yunkai. No longer will she be burdened by the idea of a cost of innocent lives, no longer will she fear herself, and no longer will she linger. When the time comes, she will burn her enemies and leave for Westeros.

I need to make a few things clear here, however. For one, I don't think she's mad now, this is just her resolving her internal conflict. For another, I don't care what she does to the slavers. They deserve what's coming for them. She will still care about the innocent, but she's now going to go full-blooded Targaryen and burn cities to the ground, and this will mean massive collateral damage she will try to rationalize away.

Daenerys has now transformed into a different, much darker character, which I feel will continue to define her for the rest of the series. She is now the Mother of Dragons, in her entirety, and Essos is about to bleed and burn. I really appreciate how GRRM put this together, and that she didn't stay fire and blood after Astapor. His character development is realistic, and sometimes the development is not linear. In part 3, I will be discussing predictions about Daenerys's arc and story in TWOW, more specifically what she will do in Essos.

[undertaker1827]

May I request Hc of sebastian lashing out on s/o making her feel bad and she gets comforted by another guy who turns out to be a demon and wants to mark her. Jealous sebastian please!

Yes you can, hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

-

You swallowed hard, trying to control the trembling in your fingers as your breaths remained unsteady. Sebastian was standing mere inches away from you, eyes glowing blood red but gaze as cold as ice. How was it that he always knew what to say to hurt the most? Nothing had really even happened - evidently you had asked one too many questions about what he’d been doing with one Ciel Phantomhive and he had just snapped. You knew work was a decidedly off limit topic, but you thought you would try once more; you didn’t keep all that much from him, after all. In any event, you wouldn’t be trying that again any time soon.

“Fine,” you muttered, features drawn in a deep frown, “I guess that’s just something else you get to lie about.” You stormed out of the house before he had a chance to reply. Although you were cross, you were really more upset than anything else. Relationships are supposed to be built on trust, or so you believed, and there didn’t seem to be all that much of it to go around in yours.

It was about mid-morning as you left and as such you allowed your feet to carry you wherever they wanted to go. You paid attention to your surroundings - London wasn’t always the safest of places - but daylight hours provided far less concern that those of the night. You didn’t feel the need to keep checking over your shoulder either, fairly certain that Sebastian wouldn’t follow. No doubt he’d have a way of knowing where you were anyway, but at least he wasn’t actually here.

In actuality, Sebastian was pacing around the room you had just left in a threateningly calm manner, eyes were much crimson and an unnatural dark starting to swallow up the room. He was cross at you, yes; you didn’t seem to understand that when discussing the topic of work always leads down this road, you should just stop bringing it up. But more importantly, he was cross at his situation. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell you, it was that he couldn’t. The Young Master would be in danger if he did and he was fairly certain that was verging on a breach of contract too, which simply led to you being understandably confused and upset. You knew he was a demon, something he felt it wasn’t fair to hide from you, but you knew very little about him besides that.

Sebastian sighed. Maybe it was time he let you in on a bit more of the secret. He still couldn’t give you the fine details about things, but he could at least give you a bit more background information. Maybe if he did that, you would understand the need for secrecy a bit more. The other thing that bugged him was how you always accused him of lying. He didn’t ever lie to you, he was physically incapable of doing it, but that was something else he couldn’t explain to you. It annoyed him because while he did tell half-truths, he knew you wanted your relationships to be based on trust and if you could understand that was exactly what he was giving you, then you might be less intrigued by what he did at work.

That was it; he was going to have to tell you.

-

You sat down heavily on a bench in Hyde Park, a disposable cup of coffee pressed to your lips. You’d already finished the consolation slice of cake that you bought and you fully intended to just stay put until you had calmed down. You smiled half heartedly when you saw the barista had sprinkled a chocolate smiling face on top of the white foam. A particularly strong gust of wind jostled your hair and the collars of your coat and you took a long sip of the drink, proceeding to almost jump out of your skin when you noticed a man sitting next to you where previously there had been nobody. He laughed a little, a deep rumble in his chest at your reaction.

“Sorry,” he offered with an apologetic smile, “didn’t mean to frighten you.” Still a little breathless, you assured him there was no problem. “You look a bit sad you know. Want to talk about anything?” To say you were surprised by the stranger’s kindness would be an understatement. You didn’t end up telling him what had happened earlier on, though you did sit and talk for a very long time.

His name was Jason as it turned out. He worked at a local car garage as a mechanic, and a good one at that. During the time you spent with him, short though it was, you felt like you had known him all your life. Without really even realising it, the distance between you had lessened until you were brushing elbows with him as you moved your hands to demonstrate a point, until your knees touched. When he leaned right into your personal space, clearly intending to kiss you, you didn’t catch yourself in time to think about Sebastia-

“Oi!! What the hell was that for?!” A gloved hand had shot between you before your lips could touch and Jason had been hauled upright by the collar of his shirt, Sebastian’s face now very much in his.

“The hell indeed,” Sebastian growled out, eyes flashing as fury burned bright behind them.

“Oh I see,” Jason snarled, eye colour turning to match Sebastian’s in seconds, “she’s yours.” Your boyfriend bared his sharpened teeth in a far more literal snarl than the other demon could seem to manage. You watched on, mute at the whole affair and astonished you hadn’t realised Jason was a demon too. But still, it felt like there was more fuelling this heated exchange than just a kiss.

“How dare you try to mark my mate,” Sebastian hissed, “do you have any idea who I am?” His voice had taken on a shadowy, other worldly quality that sent shivers down your spine. It was something old and dark, belying an immense power that should by all accounts be left alone. Jason on the other hand seemed to know exactly what it meant. He all but shrunk in size, leaning away from the other demon in surrender where moments earlier he’d been leaning forward in challenge. “I need not remind what will happen if she ever sees you again.”

With that he let go of Jason’s collar and watch as he practically disappeared into thin air. Satisfied the other was actually gone, he turned back to you. If you thought he was scary when cross before, now he was downright terrifying. Wordless, he held out a hand for you to take. You did so, albeit hesitantly, to find yourselves instantly transported back to the house. Sebastian crushed your body against his immediately, nose pressed against the shoulder of your coat where Jason’s hand had been.

“Despicable,” he muttered, glancing back as you started to stammer out apologies. “I didn’t mean you.” You stopped short, the demon taking the opportunity to kiss you for as long as possible. It quickly left you breathless and you pulled back, chest heaving and hands against his shoulders. You couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto your face.

“You’re jealous,” you murmured. His eyes glinted dangerously.

“Is that your attempt at telling me I have no reason to be?”

[dreamescapeswriting]

The Stepmother ~ JJK [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 2.3K

↬↬↬Genre: Non Idol! Family man Jungkook, CEO jungkook, fluffy

↬↬↬Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Jungkook was sitting in his home office saying goodnight to his kids, he was working late again so you were going to do the nice thing and put them to bed for him. He was always working late but thankfully he would come home from his office in the middle of Seoul to come and do his work, never wanting to be away from you and his kids for too long.

"Daddy do we have to go to sleep? We're not tired!" His daughter yelled throwing her arms up dramatically and twirling around. She was still dressed up in her ballet uniform, she'd put on a small show for you and Jungkook after dinner and insisted on wearing it for the rest of the night.

"You have school in the morning darling, your mum will be mad if we don't put you to bed." Jungkook was doing his best to make her see that going to bed was the right thing to do but she was grumbling about how she wanted him to put her to bed instead of you,

"Please Daddy we want you to put us to bed, not her." You looked down at the floor trying to ignore the feeling in the pit of your stomach, you tried not to take it to heart whenever her or her brother would say things like that. They were kids so they didn't know the meaning behind their words even if she did say ''her'' with a harsh tone.

"Come on sweetie, your dad needs to work." You whispered taking her out of the room and into the hallway of the giant home that you and Jungkook lived in - the joys of living with a CEO meant living in a huge house you would sometimes get lost in.

"You did great today, how was practice?" You were trying to make conversation with a six-year-old girl who had made it clear she didn't like you, you'd hoped over time they would grow used to you but it never really happened. You figured it was because their mum was Jungkook's ex-wife that they didn't like you for breaking up their home - which you didn't do. Jungkook and you had gotten together long after he and his ex-wife had broken up and filed for divorce but you didn't blame the kids for blaming you. You had been the same when your father remarried, you didn't like the new girl either but you would do anything to make sure the kids were happy.

"Do you guys want me to read a story?" You questioned as they walked with you towards their bedroom door. Even though the house had more bedrooms than you did shoes Jungkook allowed them to share one room for now since they were still young. Inside there was a huge set of bunk beds with bedsheets in different colours. Each of them had their own side of the room which they had decorated themselves with Jungkook one weekend - it was a long weekend full of paint fights and laughter the house had never been so loud before. Somedays the relationship you had with the kids would be better than others. If you and Jungkook had them for a week they would warm up to you eventually, only to go home to their mum and come back as totally different kids. Yelling at you or spitting abuse in your direction but Jungkook would never do anything about it - mostly because he'd never really taken notice of it before. He was a busy man. You tried not to take it to heart whenever they would come back as different kids who hated your guts but it was hard especially when you and Jungkook had been planning your future together, you didn't feel comfortable being in their future if they didn't like you.

"Can you read us the one about the princess and the ugly step-mother!?" Jungkook's son called out as he rushed into his room and over to the step ladders that got him into the top bunk,  he had been the one that was nice to you first. He was a dead ringer for Jungkook as well, he had those same doe-like eyes that made you weak, honestly, the kid could get away with anything if he flashed his eyes around.

"Sure! Do you want the long or short version?" You teased knowing they would always opt for the longer one because it meant that they could stay up later than they shoulder,

"We should get the shorter one, mum is always annoyed whenever we tell her we get the longer version," You looked at his daughter who was packing her bag for school tomorrow and then climbing into her bed. She was mature for someone of her age, you smiled softly at her hoping she would smile back but she got into bed and turned away from you.

"Short one it is then," You whispered sitting down on a chair next to the bed to start telling them the story of Cinderella, you had it memorised in your brain from all of the times you'd heard it as a kid along with all the times you'd read it to both of them.

"Y/n? You won't be like the stepmother in the book will you?" You looked up at the top bunk to see Jungkook's son staring at you through the bars, you glanced at his daughter who looked quite scared as he asked that question.

"Of course not, why would you think that?" Neither of them spoke after that, they just turned around to listen to the rest of the story you were about to tell them but the question lingered in your mind.

"Do you think they'll ever like me?" Your question came out more nervous than you had intended, Jungkook was sitting in the bed with a report trying to finalise it before he went to sleep.

"They love you-" He could tell by the look on your face that you weren't about to buy into that same lie, he sighed placing down the folder and holding out his arms for you. Sighing you crawled into the bed beside him and let him wrap his arms around your shoulder,

"Y/n we've been over this. They just need time to warm up to you." Had he not realised it had almost been two years and they still didn't like you.

"Your daughter hates me Kookie," You whispered turning to face the front of the room instead of looking at him.

"She doesn't hate you she...She's stubborn like her mum."  He pulled you closer to his body promising you that he would resolve all of this somehow,

"Are you still dropping them off tomorrow morning with me? I hate the way the other mums look at me." You shuddered at the thought. They all looked at you like you were a home-wrecker. They'd all been friends with Jungkook's wife for years so it wasn't hard to see why they didn't like you but you would have thought they'd be more welcoming to someone who was looking after their friend's kids.

"Yeah, I have to speak to their teachers about something so it's a good thing. Will you get some rest? I have to finish this report first." You nodded your head leaning your head back to kiss him, he left a gentle kiss on your lips before you rolled over to sleep.

Breakfast that morning had been painfully quiet, the kids were keeping their heads down and barely speaking a word to either you or Jungkook.

"Look who's here," You heard someone snigger as you got out of the black SUV that Jungkook had insisted you drove to school in for the day. The usual gaggle of mums were all standing by the gates talking to one another while having their morning coffee's, you looked away from them not wanting to stare while they spoke about you.

"Driving his car now? Does he pay you to look after his kids?!" One of the bolder mothers asked smirking until Jungkook got out of the back seat carrying his son on his hip with his daughter holding his hand. He saw the look on your face and he knew what was happening with them,

"You coming with me?" He questioned reaching you and leaving a kiss on your cheek.

"No, I-I'll stay here with the car. You should speak to the teacher alone." You whispered not having the guts to walk past the mums who would no doubt have something worse to say, they were all dressed in posh outfits while you were in workout leggings and a hoodie - you saw no reason to dress up for just dropping the kids off. It wasn't a fashion show.

"I'll be out as soon as I can." He whispered kissing you on the lips and walking with his kids further into the playground, ignoring the flirty comments he got from mums as he walked by them. It was always the same but who wouldn't want to flirt with Jungkook, he was gorgeous.

"How do you sleep at night?" A voice came out from behind you and you knew it too well turning around to see Jungkook's ex-wife standing there, her hands on her hips as she tapped her heeled foot on the ground.

"Excuse me?" You were polite every time you spoke with her not wanting to cause any unwanted fueds between you both.

"How do you sleep at night? Knowing that you ruined my happy marriage?" You had no idea where any of this was coming from, but she began crying hysterically in front of everyone and you took a step back when the same gaggle of mothers rushed to her aid.

"Sleeping with a married man was one thing but then acting like the kids are you own! It's despicable." One of the mothers spat at you, so that was why they didn't like you? She'd told them you'd been sleeping with Jungkook when they were together which was far from the reason why they broke up.

"I didn't-"

"Go on! Deny it! This is why the kids will never! Like you." She yelled the crocodile tears disappearing as she launched herself towards you screaming about how she was always going to turn the kids on you. What both of you had failed to realise was Jungkook coming back towards the car, she had no idea he'd even been in the school.

"What are you talking about?" You asked as you stared at her,

"You think those little brats want to hate you?! I remind them every day not to be nice to you, telling them to ignore you and do the opposite because I know Jungkook will NEVER marry you if the kids hate you." She had a giant smirk plastered across her face as she admitted to all of this right in front of you, she knew all too well that you would never repeat a word of it back to Jungkook. You were far too nice for that but luckily for you, you wouldn't have to.

"Did I hear that correctly?" Jungkook came out from behind the gates where he had been hiding himself to hear the full story.

"You're turning our kids against the woman I love?" She began stumbling over her words while turning the waterworks back on. The other mothers were still cradling her body as if she was someone that needed to be protected,

"If you hadn't slept with another woman maybe this wouldn't have happened!" A blonde screeched but Jungkook pushed his hands into his suit pockets laughing softly,

"Is that what she told you happened? Shall we tell them the real reason we're divorced?" Jungkook pulled one of his hands from his pocket and stretched his hand out for you to take, you gladly did falling into his side and relaxing a little now that he was by your side. The other mothers began leaning away from his ex frowning at what he was saying.

"Should we mention the money you were keeping from me? The men you were seeing behind my back or should we mention the constant need to party almost every weekend which was why I was granted almost full custody." Jungkook had finally had enough of her treating you the way she did and now that she'd brought the kids into the battle he wasn't about to let her get away with everything he'd been doing.

"No...No Jungkook I was just-"

"You were just leaving. You'll hear from the lawyer in a couple of weeks, don't think for one second I won't file for full custody," He hissed at her pulling you in the direction of the SUV and helping you inside. The gaggle of mothers all left her standing there alone as she came to terms with what the lying she'd been doing had gotten her into.

"You can't take them away from me-"

"Yes I can and I will." He told her as he got into the car and started up the engine, leaving her there in the street while he drove off with you by his side.

"You alright?" He chuckled, you'd been the one to get insulted and yet you were the one asking if he was alright,

"I'm fine. How are you?" You shrugged your shoulders, none of their comments had ever really bothered you but at least you got to the bottom of why the kids hadn't taken too kindly to you.

"I'll talk to them later, but for now I have the rest of the day off...What do you want to do?" He chuckled leaning across when he got to a red light so that he could kiss you.

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies​ @snowy-meowl​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @lynnthevirgo​ @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @rjsmochii​ @callingmyangel​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @innersooya​

[scriptaed]

bygones of the sun. 07 (m)

genre: angst/fluff/smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

pairing: reader x hoseok;

length: 6.7k;

synopsis: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

Ten bucks for club dues and fifteen bucks for transportation plus utility fees and you’d think boot camps really are as luxurious and happy-go-lucky as movies paint them out to be. Unfortunately for you and your recently trance filled state, confronting the face of reality only comes colliding into you just a couple of weeks since you last saw him. Despite the malicious side effects of reading into rumors, people really aren’t lying when they say the dance club’s boot camp is synonymous to a “living hell disguised as a getaway paradise by scheming club officers.” While you aren’t attending as an official member of the team, and therefore forfeiting the rights to proclaim the overbearing stress and practices that are soon to come, there are certain other issues weighing your mind.

First off, paying twenty five bucks just to see this one despicably sly and retired dancer resume his role as the captain is all too pricey of a fee, because even you're not sure why you’ve invested so much time and effort into someone who only sees you as his next victim of his black book filled with female contacts. You thought you had gotten over him, but the mere fact that you’re attending despite claiming to be “dragged into this” is a direct opposition of such a foolish belief, or better yet, desire. But such questions become trivial when the first obstacle you face of the four days long journey ahead of you is simply tossing two overly stuffed duffel bags into the luggage compartment of the towering, chic black and white charter bus.

Struggling to weave your way through the bustling crowds of fellow trip attendees, consisting of mainly guys and specks of girls, you puff in a deep breath before picking up one bag on each hand and hustling through with all your might and diminishing courtesy. The task proves to be worse in terms of pleasantness than labor, for squatting down and searching for the smallest of a few square feet of free space while squinting your eyes against the smoke of hot, steaming gas and water vapor released from the roaring engine.

“Do you need help?”

The familiar honey-like base yet raspy edge to his voice strikes a sense of panic against your thumping chest. Is this a rise of excitement or is this a fight-or-flight defense mechanism against the threat before you?

Hesitantly turning around, you crane your neck to peer up at the one and only boy towering over you from above, an effort made in vain as all you manage to catch sight of is the black silhouette of his figure and the smug signature look of his all underneath the blinding sunlight his head so conveniently blocks.

“Or are you going to ogle and drool all over me while standing in everyone’s way?” Hoseok chortles. Your eyes follow his every move, too taken aback to move or respond. It’s been at least two weeks since you had last seen him and two weeks since… that had happened. Your lips burn and your first immediate response is to smack your hands right over them as if to cover the beet red of your cheeks and lips… or largely to prevent future advances. Hoseok only scoffs in response, smirking and squatting midway to strategically whisper into your ears, “we have lots of time to do that in the camp later, if you so want.”

“Excuse me?” you lean back as far as you can and gape, but he only squats down to your level before grabbing the bags of luggage from your hand.

“Don’t worry, I got this. After going through this entire process at least six times by now, you just gotta learn to…” his words are cut off by huffs as he forcefully pushes and tosses and squeezes bags further into the compartment before tossing his and your own along with them. “There,” he brushes his hands, “I don’t know what Jimin has been teaching them, but the new recruits seem to be awfully spoiled taking up so much space. This is boot camp, not vacation.”

“Thanks,” you say after chuckling.

“Is your gratitude exchangeable?” he asks, turning to cock his head to the side and revealing the structure of his jawline; and as much as you’d like to deny it, it takes every ounce of sheer willpower not to stare at him in awe.

“For what?” you’re barely able to utter. Hoseok stares at you in silence, dark eyes eating and drinking you up with each passing second, and that’s all you need to get the hint. The knot in your throat catches your silent gasp as you avert your gaze to the ground, cheeks burning, heart skipping, and lips throbbing. “I don’t know what you’re implying.��

“Oh, my bad, I forgot. Can’t corrupt my prude little princess just yet,” he muses, and you can just feel his sultry gaze piercing straight through your temple as he flashes you his charming damn crooked grin. Hoseok cocks his head in the direction behind the crowds of incoming baggage bearers, “go on. Your friends are waiting for you. I gotta help out here.”

“You sure you don't need any help?” you offer, standing upright to brush the invisible dirt off your lap.

Hoseok glances up at you and scoffs with the most teasing smirk possible. “Are you implying you're willing to help me? I'm thankful for the offer, your Grace, but I don't think standing there and checking me out is going to do us much good,” he laughs and throws a quick glimpse over at your friends with a lopsided smile. “I know I said this is camp and all, but you should at least have some fun now before it's too late.”

“...okay,” you hesitantly mumble, giving him a small wave and stumbling through the crowd once again to join your friends spectating from afar.

“What took you so long?” Junghwa ponders aloud, a small pout resting on her bottom lip as her foot impatiently taps against the floor.

“Sorry, the luggage compartment was almost full—”

“—wait, wait, wait, Y/N… was that Hoseok who helped you with your luggage over there?” Hani interjects with wide eyes, going on her tiptoes to confirm the back figure of said man just a few strides ahead. Not even a split second after, Junghwa’s eyes pop and the both of them turn in sync to stare at you with gaping mouths.

“No way,” Junghwa drawls. “Jung Hoseok? The ex dance captain? Your long time crush—”

“—keep your voice down,” you hiss before timidly glancing at the ground and twiddling your thumbs. “...maybe.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this, Y/N,” Hani utters, the drop of her jaw and the void in her voice conveying just how shocked she is from your sudden course of actions.

“I know right,” Junghwa jumps in, hooking her arms around Hani’s crossed ones. “I mean, dance camp? Basically a trip? With Hoseok?”

“It’s not only with Hoseok,” you articulate. “There’s at least twenty other people going with us.”

“Uhuh, right, but you won’t be paying attention to any of them except Hoseok, so it’s basically the same thing. How did you even manage to convince him to return?” Junghwa exasperates, a series of blabbering shortly follows before you hurriedly clasp your hand over her running mouth to muffle her words.

A few seconds of incoherent mumbling goes by before Hani taps you on the shoulder and chuckles, “okay, Y/N, any second longer and she’s going to faint.”

As much as most normal, rational human beings would opt for breathing through the nose than the mouth in situations like this, whether out of instincts or simple common sense, it’s also painfully obvious that Junghwa is unlike that of any other. All that’s on Junghwa’s head at the moment is getting her thoughts said and heard, and not even her very own being can top that priority. So pressing your lips, you figure Hani’s right—like always—and the well being of your best friend is more important than answering a few questions. Reluctantly and ever so slowly, you retract your hands from her lips, the absence of her voice’s vibration immediately leaving your hand empty of sensation.

The second your hands unclasp from her mouth, thus letting her words loose, Junghwa desperately gasps for air before, unsurprisingly, blurting out yet again in an all too ear-spitting manner, “or is he returning because of you? Did you make some sort of deal with him?! Y/N, why didn’t you tell us? You need to tell us—”

“—shh,” you hiss, immediately and strategically placing your middle finger against your lips to hush her back into silence. Eyes wide and alert, you hastily glimpse around to check for any possible bystanders dropping in on your conversation. When all coast is clear, everyone too busy chatting away with their friends and loading their additional luggage onto the bus, you shoot a death stare straight at your friend who gulps in terror. “Are you trying to turn this trip into hell before it even starts? I know it might come as a surprise to you, but I don’t want anyone spreading rumors about Hoseok and I!”

“I know,” Junghwa pouts and grabs ahold of your hand only to sway it side to side, as if to win you over with pity. “I’m sorry… I won’t do it again. I promise!”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“I swear I’m serious! Curiosity just got the best of me this time around,” Junghwa cheekily smiles. “If someone happens to hear us, I’ll treat you out for dinner. Better yet, I’ll confess to Jimin or anyone you want and make a fool of myself, yeah? Mm?”

“You don’t even like Jimin!” you refute, appalled by her lackluster offer.

“Oh, you know how she is, Y/N,” Hani laughs, rolling her eyes. “At least no one has ever really paid attention to her yelling. Plus, I really am curious as to why he’s back. How did you convince him to join today? I thought he always stayed at least a mile’s distance from anything related to dance.”

A hard thump hammers against your chest when the answer to her question echoes in your mind and rests on the tips of your tongue. A kiss. You exchanged his attendance this morning for a kiss; but there’s no way you’re going tell your friends something as embarrassing as that, especially seeing how they had taken the news of your previous dates with Hoseok. However, judging by how fervently your lips burn of the apparition of his soft lips pressed up against them, you convince yourself you’ve already given the answer away.

“Hey, we’re just about done here,” a familiar voice melts in your left ear like honey as a heavy arm swings over your shoulder and pulls you into his side. You glance up to find Hoseok raising a brow at your two friends, “oh, I’m sorry, but I don’t quite seem to recognize…”

His words trail off, and for some reason you think you can see a flash of the old dance captain resuming his courteous, welcoming ways; hence, unbeknownst to you, a smile gradually stretches across your lips. While you’re stuck in your reverie, Junghwa and Hani’s head snap towards each other, eyes widening and words failing to leave their gaping mouths as looks of admiration and awe oozes from the glistening windows to their souls. The ogling eyes of theirs nearly evokes a snort from the back of your throat, because finally, finally they can first-handedly witness the melting charms of Hoseok and actually understand the reasonings behind your recent irrational actions. But then their eyes dart to you once again, lips formulating silent threats and teeth gritting like a desperate call for your help.

As much as you’d like to blame your lack of a response to your friends’ plees solely on your short-lived trance of catching the returning glimpse of your long-time crush, a part of you just knows the truth lies in the satisfaction of observing the petrified look on your friends’ faces. Is this the look you had plastered all over your face when they made fun of you for your crush on Hoseok? Was this the mirror image of your state of panic when Junghwa nearly exposes your “relationship” with Hoseok to the entire class? Just recalling the pain your friends had put you through endorses you to sit back and relax as you watch karma do its work.

“...new recruits?” Hoseok chirps after a few seconds of silence, quirking a brow and flashing a clueless, lopsided grin. “Did Jimin actually manage to acquire new members while I was gone?”

“Actually no,” Hani quickly blurts, shaking her head violently, “we’re not a part of the club.”

“Oh?” Hoseok cocks his head, glimpsing at you in confusion before returning his eyes to Hani when you only stand in silent amusement. “Sorry, my bad. So what are you two lovely ladies doing here then?”

Did he just call them lovely? In front of you? With his arm wrapped around you and his recently numerous flirtatious advances on you? Even though you have no idea why you’re so irked in the first place, there’s something about his smooth, charismatic ways that tugs at your heartstrings in the rather painful manner for once.

Unbeknownst to you, a twitch of your face is evident enough to your friends and Hoseok for them to jolt in place, petrified over whatever fiery hazard scorches from within the vicinity of your glare. And unlike your friends who take a step back and glimpse at each other for help, the boy beside you only pulls you in even tighter until your head has nowhere to rest but against the calm, warm beats of his chest.

“Uh,” Junghwa utters, eyes popping when she notices Hoseok’s firming embrace.

“We’re just sending Y/N off,” Hani finishes her friend’s sentence and averts her panicked gaze back to you as you narrow your eyes at the audacity of Hoseok.

“Well that’s nice of you two. So that’s where Y/N gets it from,” he muses before continuing, “are you sure you two don’t wanna join? I’m sure we have enough space left to accommodate for you two.”

“Oh no, we couldn’t—

“—well actually, we wanted to but Y/N forced us not to because she was ‘embarrassed’ or something—ow!” Hani nudges her elbow straight into Junghwa before she can mutter another word.

Hoseok turns his head at you with warmth radiating from his dark chocolate orbs and the most suggestive of smirks tugging on the corner of his lips, “and what does that mean, Y/N?”

You freeze. You don’t know why or how or when, but for some reason your body’s immediate response to his gaze locking with yours is to drop everything and freeze. Heart panicking, hammering, and nearly stopping, you completely forget your friends are watching just a few feet away—

“—we didn’t bring any money for club dues and trip fees,” Hani quickly comes to the rescue, shooting you a subtle smile, and for once, you’re actually glad that your friends are here to support you in the wake of Hoseok’s impact.

“Oh, that’s fine. Any friend of Y/N’s is welcome with or without dues. I’d rather gain two new recruits than lose the opportunity to because of a few bucks or so. Plus, our club has more than enough funds to cover your fees for now,” he quips, cleverly interjecting before Hani can provide a rebuttal, “you don’t really think I’m letting you off the hook, do you? Nah, what kind of a captain would I be if I did that? You can pay me back afterwards.”

“That’s very kind of you, but…”

“...or your friend here can pay for you,” Hoseok smiles smugly, pointing his thumb to the side and at you. Traumatizing your lips and paying twenty five bucks to humiliate yourself for the sole sake of potentially watching Hoseok dance again were already too high of stakes to pay in the first place, so all you can do in response to his absurd suggestion is gawk at him in disapproval.

“She’s the last person who would do that,” Junghwa grumbles.

Hani nudges Junghwa once again, “I’m sure Y/N is going to have lots of fun at camp… although I do worry if she’s going to be alone—”

“—I’ll be fine—”

“—don’t worry, she’s in good hands,” Hoseok cuts in with a wide grin, arm firmly gripping your right shoulder and pulling you even closer into him.

“...what do you think you’re doing?” you finally mutter through gritted teeth. Your friends hesitantly exchange and dart glances between the two of you as they watch the narrowing of your death stare.

“What? This?” he pats his hands on the side of your arm and pulls you in once again, cocking a brow at you to feign innocence. “You didn’t seem to mind skinship last week? Or are you shy about PDA?”

Your jaw slacks open in sync with your friends. Did he really just say that? In front of your friends? So much for having fun and saving the embarrassment for later on in the trip.

“I don’t know what you’re saying…” you mutter, snaking your hand behind his back and tugging on his shirt to signal for him to stop… which he doesn’t.

“Oh c’mon, you couldn’t have forgotten already, Y/N!” Hoseok chimes, and his grin grows wider and wider as he watches your cheeks burn a brighter shade of red by the second. He cocks his head and begins listing the events of that night which still burns so fervently in the back of your mind, “fridge… bet… tabletop… ki...tchen.”

The second to last syllable nearly evokes a heart attack from your already weak condition, thousands of needles piercing straight through your chest as you glimpse at your friends; luckily for you, it seems like they haven’t caught onto anything yet, for they’ve never worn a more confused look than they are now.

Hoseok only grins in amusement before proceeding to his grand finale, “ki—hey!”

The smug look on his face is wiped and replaced by utter shock. He gawks at you with eyes wide and mouth open the second his brain registers the fact that you had just pinched him as hard as you could from the back.

“...kinda have to go help out Jimin and the others. Yeah, that���s what I meant to say,” Hoseok chuckles after a few seconds of bewilderment, turning to flash one last smile at your friends and waving them goodbye. “I’m sorry but I don’t believe I ever got your names…?”

Your two friends just stand there in what you’re unsure to make out as either fright for the scene that just played before them or in awe over the radiant sight of his killer smile—or perhaps, a mix of both. Hani’s slouched shoulders suddenly straighten upright the second she snaps back into reality and checks up on her friend, whom had failed to escape her trance. She stutters, “H-Hani, I’m Hani, a-and this is Junghwa.”

“Right. It was nice meeting you, Hani and Junghwa. I promise you I’ll look over Y/N, even if she refuses to accept my help and assaults me with acts of violence. And remember, I know it might be boring without me as the captain, but it’s never too late to join the club,” he sing-songs, voice velvety and soothing like always but his last statement leaves you frowning even more so than the former.

He’s resuming his role as the dance captain, and yet at the same time he’s rejecting the permanence of such a task and even foreseeing his absence in the near future. You know you’ve been too greedy and too needy for the fulfillment of your dreams, but somehow along the way you had lost sight of reality. While the past Hoseok brought you into cloud nine where things like stress and school were of trivial matters, the present Hoseok slams you straight back into reality where not everything always goes your way.

Only a comforting, firm pat against your right shoulder is enough to bring you out of your daze as you glance up to find Hoseok making his way to the bus with his front half turned towards you. “I know it’s hard to contain your excitement, but at least try to spend a few more minutes with your friends, Y/N. Don’t take too long though, or even I’ll have to leave you behind,” he quips, calling out to you before winking and biting his lips—as if trying to hint at something, no, you just know he’s hinting at that very thing which still doesn’t fail to flood heat into your cheeks—and turning his back on you to jog up the steps, disappearing behind the black tinted windows of the bus.

“I hate the living hell out of him. I hate the living hell out of him. I hate the living hell out of him,” you repeat, reminding yourself once again of the treacherous bet you had so regrettably made. Sighing, you turn to face your friends once again only to jump in place out of shock when your friends glare at you with the most dead eyes and stern frowns.

“Girl, you have a lot to explain when you get back,” Junghwa crosses her arms.

“...yeah, I know,” you timidly laugh, reclining as you scratched the back of your head when Junghwa continues to narrow her eyes at you for your lack of an explanation.

“That guy’s dangerous. I knew he was good looking, but wow, in person?” Hani shakes her head. “He knows his ways with words. Charming. Too charming. You better be careful, Y/N.”

“...yeah, don’t worry. I’m not a fool. I might’ve liked him before, but there’s no way I still do with him being like that now,” you mutter, and out of the blue, your only source of transportation roars in place behind you as if to remind you of the quickly approaching departure time. “Okay, I really have to go now.”

Despite how hard Junghwa had been staring at you, she does a complete 180 turn when she pounces on you along with Hani, “I’ll miss you so much. Don’t go! Don’t leave me for a man! But if you have to, at least tell us what happens!”

“Make sure to call us every night, okay?” Hani says before quickly adding, “and be careful! Don’t ever leave yourself alone with a boy like Hoseok!”

“Alright, alright,” you chuckle, words muffled as they nearly choke you in the bear hug. After what seems like eternity, you finally retract yourself from your nearly sobbing friends and wave them one last goodbye before running up the steps into the bus and away from the partially cloudy forecast of the morning.

Now the real torture begins; it's like highschool all over again—finding an empty seat without looking like a longer or bring too out of place.

“Sorry, this seat is reserved for someone,” you hear someone say in the deepest yet softest of tones.

Glancing over to the very back of the bus where the courteous voice had struck you as familiar, you find a girl apologizing to Hoseok before scampering forward to the seat next to whom you presume to be her friend. Word must've gotten out that the Jung Hoseok was making his return to dance with this camping trip, because whether for the better or worse, it doesn't take very long for the next girl to approach him.

“Oh my God, I can't believe you're actually back! I've always loved watching you practice!” the petite girl exclaims.

Hoseok presses a smile in response, “thanks.”

“Um… can I sit here if this seat isn't taken?”

“Sorry but I'm actually saving this seat for my friend,” he softly repeats himself, craning his neck up to give one last apologetic smile from his seat and to the standing girl.

Tch, lucky him, you scoff to yourself, being Mr. Popular With Girls must have its perks in social gatherings like this. People like you, on the other hand, have to deal with being on the worse end of the stick.

So you shuffle your way through the chattering cliques seated primarily at the front, never-minding the glaring open seat next to Hoseok as you make your way to just a few rows ahead of his in a successful search for another seat; but before you're even able to sigh in relief and plop into your temporary home for the next six hours, a hand clasps onto the crook of your elbows and grips your arm firmly enough to pull you into another seat. A yelp leaves your lips as you stumble backwards in a vain attempt to regain your footing, and before you even know it, you find yourself in another seat at the very back of the bus.

“This seat is actually reserved for you,” the one and only Hoseok coos, and your heart undeniably skips despite the roll of your eyes.

“I didn't ask for you to reserve it for me.”

“Ouch,” Hoseok winces, “was that you rejecting me or you rejecting my friendly gesture?”

You shrug in a fruitless attempt to suppress your smile, “perhaps both. No, definitely both.”

“Then what was that supposed to mean?” Hoseok gasps and places a hand over his chest. “Are you leading me on?”

You scoff, “what was what supposed to mean?”

“You know,” he leans in to whisper, “our ki—”

“— alright fine, I'll sit with you,” you interject and slump into your permanent seat with a loud sigh. “Now can you stop bringing that up.”

“To think that you'd play me like this... you're breaking my heart, Y/N,” he fakes a whimper and frowns, shaking his head. “But whatever makes you happy.”

You snort at the irony of his words. Who's the one playing who? “Oh, quit it, will you? If being around me hurts you so much, then why aren't you sitting with Jimin and them?”

“Actually, there's nothing I like better than spending my time with you. See, I'll prove it to you.” Without warning, Hoseok’s right engulfs your left in and places it straight against his chest. You're caught off guard, jumping in your seat and rocketing your pulse at an all time high, but what surprises you most is the irregular pacing of the thumps against your hand. Maybe it's just you and your hopeless imaginations, but for even a split second you'd like to think he's being the genuine self he used to be for once. “You know, I actually prefer sitting alone on these trips.”

“...why?” you're barely able to utter when you realize your hand is still trapped between the warmth of his chest and his hand.

“I like listening to my own music and going through the routines in my head. It helps me focus for camp,” he explains before turning to wink at you, “but I'll make an exception for you.”

“Why…?”

It must be something about the way his hand holds yours so firmly in place or the way you're just practically melting in the gaze of his warm brown eyes, because a question you already know the answer to slips right through your lips. He had promised your friends to take good care of you, didn't he? He had seen you wandering through the crowd and bus like some lost child, didn't he? Man, you really must have appeared to be quite pathetic enough for him to reach out to you like this. So with your eyes down at the ground and your ears shut, you prepare for the embarrassment ahead of you.

“Didn't I just explain it to you?” Hoseok says lowly, and you glance up in curiosity. Your chest constricts when your eyes trail up to meet his. Your insides melt at the sight of his soft, lopsided smile, and you can't help but mentally squeal when you realize that his unmoving gaze has been observing you all this time. Then he makes his final blow, “I like being next to you.”

Pressing your lips into what seems to be a half smile half frown, you slowly retract your hands from his and into your lap before turning to face straight forward where Hoseok is no where in sight. But despite your efforts to keep your pulse under control, there's really nothing you can do to stop your heart from nearly jumping out of your chest and prevent the adrenaline from running through your wrist to your stomach to your legs; for the rest of the ride, you find yourself distracted in one way or another.

First, you somehow find yourself sharing an earbud with Hoseok. He shares his favorite playlist of tracks to freestyle to, humming and counting to the beats, and even goes as far as to show you the tracks he plans to share with Jimin to use for the upcoming showcase. It's silly for you to extrapolate any meaning beyond the simple sharing of an earbud for the sole sake of killing time, yet you can't help but acknowledge the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach when you steal glimpses of your old crush as he walks you through the technicalities of a routine. He drones on and on for hours about a world close to him, a world of flow and deep appreciation which nearly no one but him could reach, however, even sitting there and being forced to listen to this boy who never ceases to tease you is enough to make this entire trip before it even begins. There’s something about the way passion just oozes from his eyes as he talks about the love of his life reminds you that this is the boy you fell for.

The second thing that keeps you on your toes is when you suddenly find yourself draped in his oversized sweater. It’s an all too familiar scene, a scene that has occurred one too many times, but it’s not like you had wanted it or hoped for it to happen… did you? Having forgotten how cold buses tend to keep the temperatures at, you had regrettably opted to stuff your one and only jacket into your bags—now thrown several dozens of feet under you—and unknowingly put yourself in this situation. 

While everyone around you continued to chatter and laugh at the most disruptive of volumes amongst themselves, completely undisturbed for they had jackets to protect them from the blasting AC, you were suffering in your chair trying to keep yourself from shivering and exposing yourself to the watchful Hoseok; but alas, he was and is always able to see right through you. Seeing you curled up into a ball, you had heard Hoseok half snorting half chuckling before removing his hoodie in one swift motion and plopping it straight onto your head. 

The sudden warmth of his worn sweatshirt resonates off your freezing cheeks, your bare nape of the neck, and down your shuddering back, but those newfound comforts aren’t enough to keep you from turning around to frown at him with furrowed brows questioning the intent behind such actions. He just smiles that smug smile of his before patting your head and remarking, “I don’t know if you’re actually cold or if you’re acting out to steal another one of my sweaters again, but you should put it on before you freeze to death. Can’t have any casualties under my watch, especially not you.”

The third and last thing you remember from the long bus ride, six hours of pain that for some reason you wish could’ve lasted forever, is the intoxicating scent of him radiating from the sweater engulfing you from within. Reclining in your seat, the collar of his sweater rises just enough to cover your neck, lips, and tip of your nose from the harsh winds circulating throughout the bus, but burying your nose in the inside of his cotton sweater only magnifies his clean, spice cologne mixed with the scent of home. You can’t believe you actually accepted his offer, but what petrifies you even more is the fact that you might just pass out right in front of Hoseok. As if witnessing the return of the ex dance captain isn’t enough, sitting right next to him with your arms brushed against his and an ear sharing the same set of headphones while wearing and drowning yourself in his scent is like the ultimate blow against your weak heart.

Subconsciously, you mumble aloud—whether to yourself or to Hoseok, you don’t know—and squeeze your heavy eyelids shut to black out everything around you, “I feel really light-headed for some reason…”

You can’t see him with your eyes closed, but the shuffling beside you allows you to envision him scooting closer and leaning forward to check up on you with worry plastered all over the frown on his face. “Are you okay? Are you still cold? Or do you need to take some medicine?”

“No, I’m fine. I just need to… take a nap—hey,” you nearly yelp when you feel his rough, warm hand cupping your right cheek to gently push your head onto his shoulders. Your eyes shoot wide open and your heart rate escalates as you scan through the bus for any witnesses. Finally, when all coast is clear, you hiss, “what’re you doing?”

“Go ahead. Nap,” he instructs, patting your cheek before leaning his own head against the top of yours. “Don’t worry, we’re in the back. No one’s going to see.”

Even in the blizzard that is the blasting AC, your cheeks never fail to burn a bright shade of red as every inch of contact between your body and his begins to flush of heat and thrill. You want to pull away, to deny the indisputable comfort of his shoulders, but you’re simply too tired to argue. So before you know it, pitch blackness surrounds you and the yells of the others drown into the background where the sound of Hoseok’s counting and humming echoes akin to that of the night where you had first introduced yourself to Hoseok long ago.

-

You are dreaming, right?

No, this must be a dream; because the very first thing your still blurry, half-asleep mind comes to register—that is, after gathering your bags and settling into your temporary room before leaving for the welcoming event like a zombie—is the fact that the Jung Hoseok is standing in front of the dance studio and leading tonight’s practice.

The studio lights hanging from the high ceilings above give off warm, yellow edges to your already blurry vision. The cleanly waxed wooden floor squeaks with every sharp step of his as he gives a quick demonstration to the daily stretching routine every member must undergo before practice. Decked out in the all too familiar, albeit retired, attire of his—black sweater, black joggers, and black pair of sleek sneakers with the occasional headband he had opted out of tonight—you simply can’t believe your eyes. This is everything you’ve been dreaming for. You just want to see him dance again, and here he is… closer to dancing than he has ever been in the last year.

It’s all too surreal. Really, your gut instincts tell you this is all too surreal to believe in.

“I know this isn’t the exciting stuff I’m sure everyone of you came here for,” he sarcastically remarks, and you wonder if he’s well aware of the real reason for the spike of female recruits attending this camp for the sake of meeting him, “but it’s important that you learn how to properly stretch and prepare your body for the impact that comes with dancing.”

“How long are we going to be stretching, Hoseok?” a girl whines.

It takes everything in you not to scowl at the girl for her interjection. While you’ve risked everything from your dignity to your sanity to get to experience this first-hand, she’s piggybacking off of your efforts only to threaten the slim opportunity that you’ll even get to see Hoseok dance again in the first place.

Hoseok continues stretching, neither affected nor amused by her remark before lowly stating, “a few minutes goes a long way.”

“Yeah, but we want to dance,” a boy calls out.

“We want to see you dance,” another girl adds.

God, any second longer now and you swear you’re going to cuss them out; do they want to see him dance or not?

“You won’t be saying that when you pull a muscle,” Hoseok simply states, switching to stretch his other leg before shooting a stern look at the rows and columns of students lined up and following his every move. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him more irked than this, because a chill runs down your spine the second you find the darkening of his eyes settling on one particular girl only to threaten and etch his next two words into the back of her mind for the rest of eternity, “trust me.”

You figure dance practice really must be a serious matter to him, because you’ve never seen him go so long without cracking a joke or even comforting a student he had accidentally rebuked—which is odd now that you think about it, since that’s the exact opposite of what he had been known for back in his days as the captain; but maybe you just didn’t know him well enough in the past, perhaps his passion for dance is much stronger and takes a much more different approach than you had observed on the surface level.

It’s not exactly a turn-off per say, because you do find his passion honorable in every way, but there’s something about the frown on his ever-so-slightly downturned lips and the crease between his brows that tells you something is off. Does he actually despise dance as much as he had claimed? Your mind wanders off wondering if bringing him here is the right decision after all.

“Y/N, if you want to see me dance, then you better not space out.”

You’re thrown straight out of your trance when your head snaps up to find Hoseok staring straight at you.

“We’re on the right leg now,” he presses a smile, cocking his head at the fact that you’re still stretching your left arm. Your entire face turns red as you hastily plop yourself down to the ground and stretch your left before your right leg out in front of you. Hoseok only snorts, “alright, because of Y/N, we’re just going to hand this off to Jimin to teach you the choreo now. I have something else to do.”

“What?!”

“No, you can’t do that!”

“You promised you’d be leading tonight’s session!”

A dozen protests come tumbling from the students, a majority of them being female fans, but then all eyes start glaring at you as if you’re the actual reason Hoseok is skipping out on the actual dance portion of the practice. You nearly jump in your seat, wanting to dig a hole for you to hide yourself in when everyone throws you a few death stares. To be honest, you’re completely satisfied with seeing Hoseok even associating himself with the dance club right now, but it seems like others had a separate standard of satisfaction than you.

Hoseok intently observes the scene playing out between you and the girls before clearing his throat and sighing, “on second thought, I have a few minutes to spare.”

You can hear a collective gasp echo throughout the room. A loud cheer then erupts, and you actually find yourself smiling at his announcement despite being the most hated person in the room for a split second.

“But I’m only introducing the simple parts tonight,” he adds and a mixed reaction filled with cheers and whimpers follow shortly afterwards.

Was he going out of his way to indulge in an activity you know he’s been avoiding all too well in order to save you from the others? Or was he doing this because he genuinely had a change of heart? You figure the questions don’t matter at this point, because you’re beyond ecstatic. You might not agree in the methods others had attempted to utilize in pushing him back into his role as the captain, but you do agree in terms of the end goal point. Just seeing him lead a group through stretches is enough to make this entire trip, but seeing him lead a group through actual routines and choreographs? You think you’re on cloud nine. You’re selfish for pushing him into something he claims to despise to the very bone, but after calling you out and teasing you in front of everyone, you like to think you deserve at least this.

You just want to see him dance again, and nothing else matters but that.

-

Hoseok was serious when he said he was only teaching the most simple of choreographs, because even you were able to get through it all without tripping or falling or spacing out like you usually would. After just five minutes or so, he was prepared to switch out with Jimin when Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook ultimately decided on ending the first day of practice early and heading off to dinner.

So here you are, somehow finding yourself seated across where Hoseok had sat just a few minutes prior before excusing himself from the table and next to the rest of his old group of friends.

“Where did Hoseok go?” Jungkook finally questions, stuffing himself with one or two potstickers.

“Probably went back to his room,” Jimin shrugs. “He doesn’t seem to be in a good mood today.”

“Do you know why…?” you hesitantly ask and finish the last speck of food on your now empty plate.

“No idea,” the boy you learn to be Namjoon quips. “Maybe he’s just tired and not used to camp anymore.”

“Maybe,” you mumble, pursing your lips when the image of the irritated look on Hoseok’s face before he left dinner early. Placing your plate and utensil onto the table, you push your chair back and stand upright, “I think I’m going to head back to my room now.”

“Already?” Jimin’s eyes widen, neck craning to look up at you in surprise.

“Yeah, my legs are already so sore from practice.”

“You know we have a complimentary pass to the spa at this resort, right?” Taehyung adds.

“Oh?” you’re genuinely intrigued by the idea of soaking in a hot tub after hours of being drenched in sweat.

“Yeah, feel free to use that if you’d like,” Jimin grins. “I’d go now before everyone heads there after dinner.”

“Alright, thanks. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then!” you wave them goodbye before skipping off to your room to change into your bathing suit and happily scampering to the paradise that waits for you at the spa…

...unfortunately for you, that paradise doesn’t turn out to be quite what you had envisioned it to be, for the fact that it’s a public spa and not a private one reserved for you hits you right in the face when you see him sitting right there in the pool of water in front of you.

“It seems like fate really wants us to be together,” Hoseok quips, the absence of playfulness and effort in his usual teasing raising a question of worry from you once again.

“Psh, as if,” you scoff, turning around and ready to march off in the other direction if he hadn’t interjected.

“It’s okay, I’ll leave and you can stay if you’re that shy about seeing me half naked,” he rises from the water, and your mind goes completely blank when they register his words.

You weren’t even thinking about seeing his bare chest, but now that he’s mentioned it, that’s all your eyes can even see. His abdomens are as toned and defined as you had imagined them to be for an ex-dancer, and they’re just as tan and smooth as honey which matches the tone of his sun-kissed skin. You don’t know if it’s the steam of the water which causes your cheeks to burn for the hundredth time today, but something about the accuracy in his statement challenges you to rebuke his claims.

So instead of denying nor accepting his offer, you plop down into the euphoric heat of the water and submerge yourself until your chin hits the surface of the water. “No, it’s fine. You can stay or leave. It doesn’t matter to me because your body is the last thing I’m thinking about.”

“Really? Doesn’t seem like it when you just stared at me for a good minute or two,” Hoseok coos, sitting back down with his arms resting on either side of the circular pool. “So, what you up to?”

“Sitting in here and trying to get a good hour of relaxation for once.”

“Whoa, my bad,” he raises his hands defensively with a slight chuckle. “Sassy as always, I see.”

You know you said you wanted an hour of relaxation, but the minutes of silence that follows shortly after is deafening. It’s odd for it to be so quiet around Hoseok, the Jung Hoseok who always teased you to your nerves’ ends. Something is most definitely odd about tonight. You don’t know when it started or how it started, but it’s the things that he chooses not to partake in rather than partake in that startles you. Maybe tonight he had started to dance again, but there are countless other things he had sacrificed in return.

He’s no longer as lively, playful, and easy going as he used to be. While the past Hoseok had been a combination of all these traits even with the passion and dedication for dance, this is yet another reminder to you that this isn’t the same boy you had loved; but even so, even if this person isn’t the one you so wish for the return of, you can’t help but worry for the boy you’ve actually come to know.

“...I’m happy to see you dancing again,” you finally say. Hoseok lowers his head and gaze from the night sky to look at you—neither surprised nor intrigued, just empty. Your brows furrow at the lack of a reaction and you quickly add, “is something wrong?”

“What makes you ask that?” the monotonous tone in his voice only pushes you further.

“Just answer the question. You’re acting… strange... today. Ever since practice,” you shake your head and frown. “Is it because of dancing? Should I not have forced you to come?”

“You didn’t force me to come. You didn’t force me to do anything,” he says before looking off to the side; the harsh edge in his voice tugs at you in the most aching way you had never known to be possible with someone like the current Hoseok.

“Fine, if you’re gonna be like that, then let’s play a game. You like games, don’t you? That’s the only way I can ever get you to talk or open up or do anything,” you retort and Hoseok only raises a brow. “We’ll take turns asking each other questions. If the other fails to answer to our satisfaction, and you have to be honest, then we get to do whatever we want with the other.”

“Y/N wants to play games? Am I dreaming?” Hoseok cocks a brow.

“Trust me, I feel like I’m the one dreaming. It’s not like I want to play games, especially not with you, but it seems like it’s the only way I can get you to talk,” you say, shaking your head. “Okay, I’ll start first then. Tell me what’s going on. Why are you so upset? Is it something that I did?”

“That’s more than one question, Y/N.”

“Okay, fine,” you scoff. “Did I do something to upset you?”

“No,” he simply answers, eyes looking straight at you before adding more to complete his answer, “well, maybe a little. I don’t know how I can answer that accurately when even I’m not sure. You’re not the main reason, but now that you have become a part of the reason, I guess it only adds to the fire.”

That’s the most vague answer you had ever heard in your life, but to be fair, you had only asked him whether or not you had done something to upset him. He isn’t obligated to answer what you had done, and plus, the intense look in his eyes warns you to better play by the rules.

“Alright, fine. Good enough. You pass. Your turn.”

His fingers tap against the poolside, but his piercing eyes never leave yours.

After what seems like an eternity of silence, he speaks, “are you happy to see me dancing again?”

You frown and raise a brow, “of course…? Yes, I’m beyond ecstatic—”

—your words are cut off when he stands upright and takes one large stride to the other end of the pool where you sat, and the next thing you know, his lips smashes into yours. And unlike the last kiss you had shared with him, this one is much more forceful. He’s impatient, he’s twisting and turning and pushing like he’s running out of time, his hands snake to wrap around your back and pulls you in until the two of you are chest-to-chest.

Somehow, you manage to pull away for a split second, “Hoseok, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m dissatisfied with your answer, Y/N,” he states before pushing you into him once again and collides his lips with yours.

Your head is dizzy and you can barely get enough oxygen each time he pulls away for a split second to give you some time to breathe, but there’s something about the haste in his movements, the impatience in his pulls and pushes, and the look in his eyes that’s screaming for help that tells you this kiss isn’t about passion or lust or anything like that; it’s about desperation and the most twisted way to express the sorrow that resides with him. And even though he isn’t playing by the rules of the game, there’s a part of you that sympathizes with him, for your heart drops at the mess of emotions his wet, sloppy kiss conveys to you.

Maybe he isn’t answering your questions with words, but there’s no doubt that he’s opening up to you more than he ever has before.

Finally, you put a hand against his chest and push him an arm’s distance away before managing to say in the midst of heavy breathing, “I don’t get it, Hoseok. I’m confused. You’re acting out. You’re… different.”

“How is this any different from the last time I kissed you?” he refutes with knotted brows.

“No, there’s something wrong,” you shake your head. “What’s wrong, Hoseok? Please, just let me help you.”

“Then answer my question correctly,” he says, calling out to you as he watches you get up and depart from the poolside. “That’s all you can do right now.”

“Am I happy to see you dancing again?” you repeat the question, grabbing and wrapping a towel around you from a table. “I don’t know… not if this is how you’re going to act, then no, I’m not. But I was happy to see you so immersed in dancing again earlier today. I just want to know if… you’re happy...?”

Something flickers in the dark ditch within his eyes, and after a long deafening silence, he finally answers.

“Yeah…” he finally answers with his eyes at the other side of the pool where you had just sat before drowning himself back into the pool, “I guess I’m happy too.”

[buckyownsmylife]

v e l o c i t y - chapter v

The one where John’s your true mate, but he doesn’t want you to be his.

In a universe where fate grants you a new mate whenever you lose yours, John has lived quite comfortably for many years with the knowledge that he was alone after Mary. That all comes crumbling down the second that he meets you. How could the universe choose someone so young to be his omega?

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. It’s being constantly updated  and if you’d like to be tagged on my following John Winchester stories, just fill out this form.

John’s P.O.V.

I could barely hear over the sound of my heart pumping blood mixed with anger and arousal through my veins. I knew it was irrational - and the rational part of me was urging me to turn around and leave while I still could - but the sight of her with him had awakened a deep, territorial, and possessive feeling I just couldn’t deny anymore.

“Get your hands off of her,” I ordered, eyes narrowed and focused solely on the man who wanted my mate. I didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to see the emotions that were certainly dominating her expression. I knew there’d be confusion, and I knew there’d be that fire in her eyes that brightened her personality, making her so damn interesting to everyone that met her.

I just didn’t have the level head I needed to deal with her right now.

“I won’t tell you again.” The guy looked at her for a second before letting her down on the floor but then turned around to look at me with a cynical smile on his face.

“Why do you think you have any say on what happens between me and her, old man?” The question, the nickname had me curling my hands into fists while I still tried to remain as calm as I possibly could, considering how fucking angry I was.

“What sort of fucking question is that? She’s mine!”

“I don’t see a mark on her neck.” The reminder sobered me up somewhat, making me realize exactly what I had said without thinking. He was right. I had no right over her. She wasn’t mine, and I didn’t want her to be.

But I still didn’t want his hands on her. 

“You don’t want to mess with me, boy. I can really hurt you.” He immediately laughed, but when neither I nor Y/N reciprocated the reaction, the Alpha seemed to ponder my words for a second. I watched as he exchanged a look with her, and just that act of intimacy, their ability to communicate without sounds, had me burning on the inside.

“Remember what I said. You know how to get in touch with me if you need it. We can be together now. It’s up to you.” I knew my entire body trembled in the effort to contain myself as I heard his final words to her before his eyes darted in my direction again. 

“Take care of her.”

I wanted to tell him that I would, better than he ever could, but I didn’t want to imply that I believed this to be my responsibility either. So I just narrowed my eyes in his direction, watching cautiously until his form disappeared when he took a turn to get back to the bar.

“What the fuck was that?” My head snapped back to look at her, finally taking in her traits. Her eyes were narrowed at me, her own hands curled into fists and her entire body trembling under the power of her emotions. It seemed like she reciprocated my own emotions perfectly.

“You’re my mate, you shouldn’t be whoring yourself for other alphas.” My words were like a slap to her face if the way her expression fell was any indication, but I felt like I’d hit myself with that one.

I’d just admitted she was my mate for the very first time while accusing her of being a whore for looking in other alphas what I didn’t want to offer. I really was despicable. But I was too far gone in my temper tantrum to allow the self hate to take over me at that moment. And with the next words that fell from her lips, I knew there was absolutely no way I’d be able to deal with this in a calm manner - I was about to explode.

“Really? Am I actually your mate? Because you’ve never acknowledged it until now. You don’t even seem to be affected by me in any way!” My entire body trembled with barely kept anger, and still, I tried to hold on to those scraps of my usually iron-tight control.

“Of course you affect me! You’re my fucking mate, for fuck’s sake. You turn me on all the fucking time, and I’m still not convinced it’s only because of this fucking bond.” Her mouth opened and closed a few times at that like she wasn’t expecting this confession at all - fair enough, I didn’t expect to make it. And the fact that she made me so crazy that I would go against my own intentions only served to worsen my anger.

“You’re such a fucking liar.” She shook her head and crossed her arms, inadvertently making her breasts more visible over the cleavage of her shirt.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” I growled, and she had the nerve to fucking laugh!

“You’re a fucking liar and you’re just trying to keep me around like a plaything because it boosts your ego. You don’t want anything with me, John Winchester, so you should just let me go.” She approached me then, eyes showing fire as I fought to suppress my instincts.

“Shut up.” There was a heavy silence between us, one heavy with the tension that had been growing between us ever since the day we found out about the bond. But then she seemed to make up her mind over what she wanted to do about it.

“Well, you can’t make me.” But I could. I could. And so I did. I picked her up so easily that I think both of us only realized what I’d done when she was already against the brick wall of the bar, my body tightly pressed against hers.

“You’re still gonna tell me you don’t have any sort of effect on me?” She just looked up at me with those big bright eyes that said too much, and I knew what she was asking. I knew that she felt my hard member against her stomach. I knew I had interrupted her orgasm. The smell of her arousal was still swirling in the air around us, intoxicating me, hampering my ability to think straight.

And so I got carried away.

“Spread your fucking legs.” Her arms flew up to my shoulders, clutching at my shirt when my hand slipped under her skirt to find her naked and wet for me. “You’re not even wearing any underwear, huh? What, did you know you’d run into James?”

I knew the tone of mockery that I used to say his name didn’t go unnoticed by her, but she seemed as inebriated by the sounds of my fingers slipping inside of her pussy as I was. “You’re so fucking wet. I bet anyone who leaves the bar can hear the squelching sounds of your whorish behavior, did he get you this wet?” 

Unfortunately, she didn’t answer me, and I wasn’t a man who liked to be ignored, as she was about to find out. “Answer me,” I ordered, gripping her jaw so she’d look me in the eye.

“Oh, fuck,” was everything she could give me, but it made me smirk, so I let her off the hook - this time.

“You wish,” I meanly ridiculed. “You wish I’d fuck you. Believe me, if I did, you wouldn’t live the same way ever again. You wouldn’t even be able to walk after I was done with you. I wouldn’t stop until I was 100% sure you would never open your legs for any other man.”

Her little gasp was swallowed by my mouth when I licked her lips open, digits curling up and tapping against the spot that had her whining against me. “You’re such a goddamn fucking tease,” I continued once I let her gather her breath. “Is this what you wanted, huh? You wanted to cum all over his fingers?”

I felt her tugging on my shirt, still unable to voice her thoughts. I knew I was in for it when we were done, I knew she’d rip me apart for everything I’d said, everything I’d done, but I couldn’t pretend to care at that moment.

“Fucking brat,” I mocked, picking up the pace of my fingers as I felt her approach her high. “Beg me to make you cum. Beg me.”

“P-please.” A satisfied smirk took over my face at hearing just how wrecked she was, her eyes glossed over as she looked up at me. 

“He thinks I don’t know how to touch you, huh? What would he think if he saw you cumming around my fingers right now, like he never even touched you?” I felt her tighten around my digits, announcing her orgasm even before she cried out and gripped my shirt in desperation.

“He can’t satisfy you.” It was more of a realization that hit the both of us at that second when she finally stopped convulsing. “Not the way I can.” We just stared into each other's eyes for a few seconds, the moment heavy with words unspoken that couldn’t be uttered now that the moment was gone.

Her pussy clung to my fingers, like she didn’t want me to leave her empty when I pulled my hand away from the edge of her skirt. “You’re sweet,” I commented, having sucked on the juices there before looking at her, holding herself up by the way, slightly trembling, chest heaving with the effort to breathe.

Something red caught my attention, and I looked down to the floor to find the scraps of what had obviously been her underwear. Chuckling, I knelt to pick it up before stuffing it into my pocket.

“If he didn’t want it…” I shrugged, giving her one last look before turning around and going back to the bar.