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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

black magic [02]

request. arranged marriage + enemies to lovers (sukuna is a simp and lowkey a housewife) + sukuna’s first time with his wife

cw. slight angst, insecurities, lots of making out, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasm, sukuna worships reader, spitting, cum eating, teasing! sukuna, face-off kamasutra position, soft dom! sukuna, unedited fic, pwp

song inspo. leave the door open (bruno mars)

note. i want a husband sukuna

part one | part two

Sukuna gently takes your palm into his, soft and warm lips meeting your bruised knuckles that have seen years of hard work in exorcising curses like him. Uncanny that he showed so much affection to his enemy by nature, treating you with such care and tenderness that shouldn’t have been so possible for an evil creature like him. You’re supposed to love it, be grateful for it, yet his sweet gestures only irritate you, even more so when he retires to bed just like that without even so much sparing a glance your way.

You’ve been married for a year now that you’ve had enough of his confusing gestures towards you. One moment, he was showering you with love, regarding you like you were the light of his life before he’s walking away the next moment and pretending you don’t exist.

He was so infuriating. He would kiss you and hold you, but never touch you or be in the same room with you any longer than an hour. Even in bed, he’s always making sure his back is turned to you, peeling your arms off of him each time you attempt to cuddle him on times it got too cold. It hurts and dwells dangerously at the back of your mind – it would’ve been better if he got angry at you and announced he despised you, but he never did – that his hot and cold nature bothered you more than anything else.

You’ve eventually had enough that you just stopped caring. Barging in during his bath time, your nostrils flare upon seeing your husband so relaxed in the tub. Even after a year of marriage, he’s so unaffected and unaware by your need for him.

He really doesn’t care.

“Little one,” Sukuna blinks as he sits up from the tub, strong arms hanging off the edges of the bed. You admit; he really was beautiful and a desirable man that you couldn’t help it, couldn’t help but crave the one thing you knew you weren’t supposed to have. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you not want me?” you suddenly demand, tears already streaming down your face faster than you would like. Hell, you never wanted to cry in the first place. “Am I not desirable enough for you?”

Sukuna chuckles nervously.

Oh, great, now he’s nervous around you?

“What are you going on about?”

“Don’t act like I don’t know what you’re doing,” you snap, “Every time we go to bed, you always put some distance between us and keep to your side of the bed. You push me away when I try to reach for you and you never touch me or kiss me on the lips. I-I understand this marriage was against your will, but I’m still your wife and I need you, okay?” chest tightening uncomfortably, you place a hand over your poor, aching heart that is further crippled when Sukuna’s face falls. “I just feel like...you’re sickened by me, like you cannot stand to be with me in the same room as me. It makes me feel like...it would’ve been better if I wasn’t here.”

You don’t know what kind of response you’re expecting from him after your outburst, but definitely not him standing up to loom over you. You respectfully avert your eyes from the sinful image of water dripping down his defined body, but it’s too late and he’s too close already that you won’t be surprised if he can hear your heartbeat pumping frantically.

He was large and imposing, truly a terrifying sight right before you especially with his tattoos that trail and wrap all around his muscular thighs, yet you’re not nervous because he could hurt you.

Rather, you’re agitated because he’s so close, so within reach that if you step a little closer, you could easily find the warmth you’ve been dreaming of for so long.

You’re frustrated because you want him though you shouldn’t.

Just then, Sukuna caresses your cheek and pulls the both of you back in the tub with you above him, and him lazily grinning above you. You gasp, abashed, that your clothes were soaked to the brim and it stuck close to your damp skin until it took the shape of your silhouette. Sukuna, on the other hand, is completely unbothered as he eyes your pebbled nipples poking through the thin material of your nightgown and simply drags you forward on his thighs.

“S-Sukuna—”

“You really have no idea, do you?” he whispers lowly, his long claws carefully tracing down the sides of your jaw. “My innocent, little lamb...the reason I distance myself from you is because every waking day that you are right beside me, my self-restraint thins, and I’m not sure I can hold back a little longer from you taming me,” Sukuna’s dark eyes brims with something unreadable as he holds your gaze. The look he wears is beyond intense that he takes your breath away, literally, and you’re left gaping at him silently. “I push you away because I want you more than anything else, but I respect you and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You-you want me?”

“Clearly, little one, you’re inherently unaware of how captivating you are,” Sukuna says as if if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you shiver at his words – or from the cold water, you don’t really know. “Stop looking at me like you want me to kiss you. I may not stop once I get a taste of you. Like I said before – I won’t touch you unless you asked.”

You do remember him saying that from your first time together, but your head goes blank, and no words leave your lips even as you mouth nonsense.

Sukuna taps your lips. “Speak, little one. You need to use your big girl words.”

“Kiss me,” you vociferated in one breath, desperately clutching on your thighs. “Please.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to push you away as his eyes narrow into suspicion, but soon he’s tugging at your collar to bring you down for a heated kiss. Sukuna is tugging your robes down until your collarbones are exposed, his tongue and lips leaving yours to leave marks and love bites all over the patch of skin instead. You tug at his hair as you crane your neck to the side, succumbing to the undeniable pleasure his warmth and greediness consumes you with.

Grinding down on his groin, you notice he’s already hard. Hard for you, and this realization makes you kiss him back hungrily as you whimper above him.

Sukuna is feverishly sucking on your tongue and pawing at your breasts the next instant before the spell is immediately broken just as it happened. For before you could reciprocate the same amount of eagerness he kissed you with, Sukuna is already sliding you off of him until you’re on the other side of the tub, left staring at him wordlessly with his lips red and swollen.

“Not today, little one. I think that’s enough.”

You hear your heart shatter into pieces. Pride; it was about the only thing you had, but it seemed even that had been taken away from you.

“You really don’t want me.”

Your voice cracked as your eyes began to tear up.

“No, love, that’s not what I meant,” he groans into his hands, “Believe me, I’d spent enough nights sweaty and frustrated knowing I can’t ravish you and have those lush thighs around me already,” waiting for him to continue, Sukuna sighs and holds you closer, though he could only caress your knee right now that you’re wary of getting hurt again. “This is your first time, okay? I want to make it special for you – you’re not experiencing bliss with me if it happens impulsively with you barging in my bath.”

Something like hope lights up inside you.

“Y-you’ll really do that for me?”

“Tch, brat, don’t go all soft on me now. I wouldn’t suggest testing my patience even further,” he playfully flicks your forehead when you tried to kiss him again, but Sukuna is already tilting his cheek to other side before you could. You would’ve been heartbroken again that he’s refused you, but his words held more than reassurance – and so did his uncomfortably hard cock – that all previous insecurities vanished into thin air.

Sukuna grabs you by the waist to plant your feet on the ground outside the tub, carrying you as if you were nothing more than a ragdoll to him. “Now go and get changed. I’ll fuck you another time.”

“Don’t say it like that!”

“My deepest apologies, little one,” he commented sarcastically with a roll of his eyes, though his smile turned genuinely warm the last minute. “I’ll make love to you when you’re ready.”

He must’ve lied.

You’re annoyed because Sukuna is intentionally avoiding you and acting like you don’t exist. Pissed off, you go into a curse exorcising spree to get the King of Curses out of your mind, reminding yourself that he was vile like them and he didn’t deserve even a second of your time.

Although no matter how hard you tried, your mind still kept racing back to him even as you come back home, bloody and tired when you realize the temple is eerily quiet. Not a living soul could be found around, no servant fretted at your arrival and your husband most definitely did not lurk in the shadows like he usually did. The only sign the temple hadn’t been abandoned yet were the lines of candles trailing down the hall to your shared room with him, and you gasp as you see the petals decorating the bed and rose-scented candles lit everywhere.

Sukuna was nowhere to be seen.

But he was felt as he kisses your neck, his hands untying the knots of your yukata. You stiffen in reflex before relaxing as soon you recognize his scent. Behind you, Sukuna pauses, his lips still in the column of your neck.

“You’re upset.” He wasn’t asking; rather observing.

“Not anymore,” you mumble in response, although you weren’t entirely convinced even as you come closer to the bed, your husband trailing behind with his pinky looped to yours. “Did you do all this for me?”

“Yes. Do you like it?”

“I love it, thank you,” you hide your smile for him, not wanting him to see that it’s so easy to alleviate your anger to him. He has to earn your approval again, so you turn to him with a forced scowl and arms crossed against your chest. “But why were you ignoring me for days?”

You intended to look intimidating, but the King of Curses only laughed.

“You look cute when you’re mad. Plus, it made you want me more than you already do, didn’t it?” he chastised, the implications of his words making you pout in humiliation. Sukuna is quick to step closer to you, cupping your cheeks into his hand, and you hated how easily you leaned into his touch. Nevertheless, you turned away from him, using all your energy to muster your most serious ‘I’m not bothered’ face.

“Aw, don’t be shy, it’s written all over your face, little one,” he breathes on the shell of your ear, hands trailing down to lightly drape your clothes below your shoulders. Unable to hold it back, you end up shivering at his featherlike touches.

“It’s okay. I loved hearing your soft whimpers every time you touched yourself in the bath, thinking that I’m probably not around to hear, hm? You forget I sense everything,” his laugh is mocking yet laced with lust, “From the frantic singing of your heart, the way you tense up a little when I’m around, or the way those beautiful legs of yours clench together each time my robe is a little loosened,” Sukuna dips his nose right under your jaw where his tongue darts out to lick a flat stripe down your neck, and just like that, you’re breathlessly clutching on his white robes that are already unfastened. Damned tease.

“Even the smell of your arousal is enticing me to enrapture you right now, little one. I can practically hear the silent begging in that pretty little head of yours.”

You forgot how to breathe.

“B-but I’m dirty, I just finished exorcising curses.”

“Would it be comedic if I said I am aroused at the thought my wife could easily end me right here and now?” shaking your head at him, Sukuna smiles mysteriously. “But you won’t, would you? You need me too much for that,” he leans closer than he already was before, his lips just a breath away from yours. “Tell me, do you want me?”

“Yes,” you whispered breathily, “Please, Sukuna, touch me.”

“It’s my love to you.”

“Not Your Majesty?”

“Hmm, that is delightful to hear as well,” he says, “But let’s our drop our titles. For now, whatever happens between us is intimately between man and wife. Now go clean up, little one. I’ll be waiting for you once you’re ready.”

You waste no time into darting to the bath, scrubbing the blood and dirt on each nook and crevice of your body until you’re squeaky clean. You’re about to head back to bed when you quickly practice puckering your lips to make yourself look desirable, muttering hopefully flirty lines that would make your husband want you more before calling it quits from the embarrassment you caused upon yourself.

By the time you’ve completely dried and moisturized yourself to absolute perfection that you’re confident of yourself, you find Sukuna emptily staring into the ceilings. “Done already? Someone’s eager.”

You roll your eyes at him. Why did you like him again?

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“Gladly, little one,” he confides, patting his thighs to encourage you to climb onto him. Now that things were actually getting real and your endless dreams would soon become reality, your palms grow sweaty as you settle yourself onto his lap. “You tell me right away if I’m hurting you, you understand? One word and I’ll stop; though I doubt you’ll be in your right mind to want to stop once I’ve had my way with you.”

You don’t really understand much of what he’s saying anymore.

He’s kissing you so slowly, so passionately and you’re both undressing each other that nothing but desire and lust clouds your thoughts in that moment. You’re drunk on the sweet taste of him, his natural musky scent beyond intoxicating for your mortal self to handle. Too lost in the bliss of finally being intimate with him, you don’t realize Sukuna has already pushed your towel down until it pools at your waists. His sharp intake of breath is the only thing that pulls you back to reality as he greedily takes in each beautiful curve and dip of your body.

His stare is so fervid that you grow shy and cover yourself, where Sukuna quickly grips your wrist as a warning. “No. You do not hide yourself from me.”

“Then stop staring too much.”

“Is it a sin to appreciate divine beauty?” he tilts his head to the side and blinks at you innocently. “You are ethereal, my wife.”

Before you could be too flustered to respond, Sukuna fortunately saves you from the embarrassment by kissing you again, though it doesn’t last long before his mouth is trailing from your collarbone and down to your breasts. You mewl as Sukuna eagerly sucks on one breast, the other showered with attention from his rough, calloused palms. Meanwhile, you push his clothes away to expose his strong shoulders which you use as leverage because his ministrations make you feel like you’re losing control over your own body.

Rolling your hips on his erect cock, Sukuna groans through your skin, squeezing your breast hard enough that you can’t take it anymore right after he tweaks your nipple. “Love, please, I need you right now.”

“Patience, little one,” he reminds, “I need to prepare you well.”

“I’ve been waiting for months, Sukuna, I’m sure I’m more than ready.”

“Emotionally, sure, but physically?” he chuckles darkly, “Little one, do you not understand your nimble fingers cannot compare to my cock? I might hurt you if you’re not stretched out enough.”

“Then stop kissing me and start—” you’re cut off with a gasp, your nails sinking down harder into his skin the moment his fingers began to rub at your pussy. “Y-your claws—”

“I kept them for years, but I had to cut them just for you, little one. What do you have to say about that?”

“Thank you,” you offer with a breathy moan, head falling into his shoulder from the overwhelming yet welcomed intrusion. “Oh, Sukuna, it’s too good, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he bites the shell of your ear and tugs at the lobe, basically biting it between his teeth to distract you from another long and thick digit pushing past your walls. “One more?”

“O-oh!” his thumb has now joined the party by rubbing soothing circles on your clit, effortlessly pulling your lips aside with the rest of his digits to expose your sensitive bundles of nerves for him. Sukuna keeps his eyes on yours the whole time, watching and drinking in the face you make – pleasure written all over your features from the swollen lips, pupils blown wide, and desire pooling in swirls of curiosity and eagerness. It’s a face he never wants to forget; a face he wants to see more of that Sukuna eventually lays you down against the pillows, admiring how unreal you looked in that moment.

Hair splayed all over the pillow, legs spread wide open with his hands caressing your core, and a strong arm gripping his with small gasps accompanied by desperate calls for his name to do more, please you more – your words instantly translate into commands.

“You are so beautiful,” Sukuna praises rather angrily, “Never forget that. Each inch of you, fuck, you are the most dangerous mortal, you know that?”

You don’t have time to react before he’s going down on you and spreads your legs apart, keeping them pinned down to the bed. The stretch hurts but he easily soothes your pain by massaging your inner thighs, crawling down to kiss your ankles, then licking all the way up to your knee where he stops for a second, only to happily be on your sopping cunt the next moment. He’s peppering barely there kisses to your inner thighs just on your outer lips, his breath warm and teasing on your heat.

It feels like he intends to ruin you tonight.

“Sukuna, stop teasing!”

“What do you want me to do, little one?” he grins from between your legs, the vibrations of his chuckles resonating deep within your cunt that sporadically clenches right in front of his face that’s shamelessly imprinting your scent deep into his memory. “How can I make you feel good?”

“You know how!”

“You need to tell me so I know. I can’t read your mind.”

“Your mouth...”

Sukuna’s smile grows wider the longer you struggle to find your words, but exactly how in the world could you say such vulgar things out loud? He is far more patient tonight than any other day, however, that Sukuna props himself to his elbows to peer up at you innocently. “Where do you want my mouth and what should I do with it?”

Swallowing the rest of your pride, you finally utter: “T-taste me...down there.”

“Here?” he prods your clit, pulling a high-pitched gasp from you. Your husband’s smirk is nothing short of condescending just before he finally kisses your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth until you writhe before him. It takes minimal effort for someone of his strength to hold your legs in place, his grip just tight enough to be commanding. The thought of being completely in his mercy made your head spin in circles, your chest heaving up and down from the pleasure he was blessing yet torturing you with. “You’re so responsive, little one. I’m honoured I’m the one who gets to make you feel like this.”

“M-more, please, I need more.”

You expect him to tease you further, but your husband must’ve noticed that you’re too edged and decided to have pity on you. He doesn’t waste another second before he’s wrapping his lips around your pussy, treating it as if it were your own lips that always tasted like honey.

Sukuna is completely immersed in the act of pleasuring you with his tongue only, so much so that he’s silent aside from the little hums he lets out while you moan for him.

Unable to care about being too loud anymore (not that you needed to since Sukuna had made everyone go back home to give you both privacy) you find yourself throwing your head back, legs falling open wider to grant him deeper access to your most sensitive parts. Sukuna continues to massage your inner thighs and even drags the back of your knee to rest on his muscular back littered with battle scars and tattoos, the dark markings on his skin flexing with each movement. His eyes are closed and his nose is grazing against your swollen clit that had reddened already, your pussy lips opening up like a new world he had to explore, and explore he would.

Your hands find solace in his hair the shade of gentle sunsets that were often shared in lazy kisses and subtle touches, nails dragging across his scalp just enough to make your husband hiss right between your legs. Something begins to tighten in your belly as you grind your clit onto his face, too absorbed in the mind-numbing sensation of his tongue now poking against your entrance and the past barrier slowly blooming open to welcome him.

With shaking legs and a chest drenched in sweat, pebbled nipples further stimulated by the cold breeze drifting in from the windows, your eyes snap open as that rope snapped deep within your belly.

Your gaze shoots down below you to watch your husband ardently lapping your juices like a man starved. Now this wasn’t new to you – you’ve heard enough about the King of Curses and his bloodlust. Whispers of his thirst and desire to slay entire towns and even feast on mortals’ souls was enough to keep you at bay when you were still a young sorcerer, for it was already a blatant warning that Sukuna would feed on anything and anyone, that his hunger was quite something that couldn’t be satiated.

But seeing him unhinged and a slave to pleasing you has never felt more erotic that you ride out your orgasm, toes curling and legs trembling every now and then from the aftershocks of your high.

Slowly, Sukuna darts out his tongue one last time just to leave a teasing touch to your clit before he’s crawling right above you again. The ceiling is obscured by his large frame hovering over you, arms trapped between your head and his gallant member poking just between your thighs. You end up shivering under him as your husband regards you – with affection, pride, curiosity – gentle in comparison to his true nature in caressing your cheek, both of you unbothered by the slick that meets your skin.

“Are you okay?” he breathes out, watching your fucked out smile bloom into a felicitous grin.

“Perfect,” you mumble, although rather shyly. You’d seen him naked before, but never hard, and never with the intention that soon you’d truly be connected – in heart, in body, in mind, and in soul. The thought makes your heart skip a beat, your eyelids growing hooded as Sukuna absentmindedly traces patterns on the curve of your hip. “Sukuna...you’re perfect.”

Your husband laughs, the sound of his glee contagious that you’re chuckling with him as well. “Have you seen yourself, little one? I think I fall for you harder each day.”

His sudden confession brings about a silence in the room, but it wasn’t comfortable, and neither was it tense. If anything, it destroys any traces of previous hesitation and pent up anger that’s only been formed in the first place due to the fact he was Curse and you a sorcerer.

The nature of your relationship had been paradoxical to begin with, perhaps even beastly, but nothing was beastly about it now as you wrap an arm around his neck to bring him closer to you. And Sukuna was just that – the man, the Curse, the feared King whose simple mention of his name made mere mortals tremble – the same person that somehow understands your silence better than anyone. No words were needed when he could read your mind and knew his way around your heart a little too much, not once leaving his lips on yours as he sits on the edge of the bed and pulls you before him. Both of your skins are hot and flushed, yet you’re greedily touching and pulling at one another, his large palms clawing at your ass to pry your pussy lips open while you drag your nails down his chest.

He grunts into your mouth; the sound deep and masculine that it vibrates all the way down to your core. You gasp into his mouth – your breath immediately swallowed by his tongue that dances with yours – once you feel him slip inside.

The stretch is unlike anything you’ve felt before.

You’ve fought and exorcised countless of curses that pain was no stranger to you at this point, but never had you felt so...alien to a sensation both tragic and addicting. Pulling away to breathe air back into your lungs, your forehead knocks with Sukuna until your noses are brushing against the others, mouth hanging open as your walls struggle to accommodate him.

“Oh, oh god,” you mewl above him, eyes wide open as you witness each inch of his cock disappearing from the motion of you swallowing his length whole. He was big; terrifyingly so, and you shake with fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him or that he might rip you apart. “Su-Sukuna—”

“You’re fine,” he reassures by pulling your cheeks back to him, your delicate face trapped between his rough hands. Although his eyes are dark with lust, there’s a tenderness behind them that placates you. “You can tell me to stop if it hurts. Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

There’s no lie or hesitation behind your voice. Sukuna watches your face carefully to detect any sign of discomfort, but you want this, want him, and the pleasure combined with the tolerable sting only makes you desire him even more. The mere fact that there had to be pain and sacrifice, that you had to place your whole trust in him before you could truly succumb to the pleasure and love that created light and hope in this world was enough for you to want to keep going.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, and Sukuna wipes away the frown on your face with the pads of his fingers.

He allows you to go at your own pace until you’re completely seated on his cock, the heated member throbbing so hard inside you that you think he’s poking and prodding right deep into a place where you could hold him close the most.

It’s too much and too good that for once, you let your walls crash down as you bury yourself in his shoulder. Sukuna holds you closer by pulling you right into his chest, large arms wrapped around your frame while your breasts tease the rugged and taut muscles of his body. Even the slightest movement of you adjusting yourself on his lap makes his cock graze against your bumpy walls that you’re both moaning left and right. As you struggle to make sense of the sensations bursting within you, Sukuna’s self restraint hangs dangerously by a piece of thread. You can tell by how he’s cupping your ass and lifting your body up effortlessly before he slides you back down on his thick pole, that single, simple gesture repeated over and over again along with him bringing his hips back up to meet your warmth sending a scorching heat all over your body.

“Love, that’s, fuck,” you curse incoherently, and upon hearing a profanity leave your otherwise innocent lips makes something snap inside your husband.

Sukuna is gripping onto your hips for dear life as he bounces you up and down on his cock, tilting his head back just to scrutinize your connected bodies. A thick ring of white cream surrounds the base of his cock until it slides down on his veiny cock, sounds of skin slapping against skin and the loud squelching of your pussy even more beautiful than the screams mortals have moments right before their death in his hands. But Sukuna be damned – you felt too good that this might as well have been his death.

“You feel so fucking good,” he praises through gritted teeth, easily manhandling you and throwing you back on the bed where he’s on you in a second. “Look at you, little one, taking my huge cock so well. It’s like you’re made just for me – you want to be with me, don’t you? I would please you, fuck you good every day, yes, fuck!”

Sukuna ended up hitting a spot that equated to uncharted territory, causing you to tighten around him with a sharp cry. “Oh, right there, right there!” you rub your clit for further stimulation, moaning louder when he hoists both your legs on his chest.

He presses your legs and hugs his around his arms, flipping it to the side until your feet are right beside his ears. Sukuna has gone completely feral – his pace and drive animalistic, growling like a predator consuming his prey before he softens, kissing your ankles just as he grips your legs to make them squish together. The sudden lack of space makes your pussy tighter and more sensitive for him that you’re fisting the sheets right beside you, too fucked out to even form a coherent sentence. You’re babbling mindlessly on how good he’s making you feel, completely limp and motionless under him from how deep he’s hitting.

“Please, please, please—” you cry out, reaching out just seconds away from your orgasm with the need to touch him. Sukuna gives in and lets go of your legs until they fall at your side, stretching you out further from when he leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss.

He’s caressing your cheeks and swipes a thumb over your tears, quite nearly folding your half. His balls are slapping against your ass the harder he thrusts inside you, but his hips are stuttering and he’s panting right beside your ear that you can tell he’s close. It prompts you to wiggle under him to wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him closer and clutching his scalp just to have him impossibly close, because even thinking about letting him go sounds too painful, especially now that he’s claimed you as his just as you’ve marked him yours.

“I worship you,” he blurts out with a few final thrusts that has you crumbling under him in a silent scream, your focus completely on his dark, passionate eyes as you came. Sukuna then laces his fingers through yours while he pumps himself inside you, your walls milking him of everything he’s got. “You are divine, my wife, you have bewitched me for eternity.”

“Sukuna,” you call out weakly, and he’s quick to litter kisses all over your face from your whimpers. “Sukuna-I-I—”

“Shh, I know, I know,” Sukuna places a finger on your lips, letting you calm down from that earth shattering orgasm he just gave you. He pulls his spent dick out a minute later and scoops up your cum that’s spilling out from your pussy lips, his gaze never leaving yours the whole while he sucks his fingers inside his mouth. He’s so dirty and erotic that you’re clenching around nothing once more, but he shakes his head with a low chuckle as if he can sense you want more. Sukuna kisses you just to transfer the cum mixed with spit right onto your tongue, gripping your jaw when your eyes widen at him. “Swallow it, little one. That’s just a taste of what I could give to you.”

You don’t know what pulled you to actually swallow it – it tastes bitter and even a little salty, though it had a bittersweet tinge of scent to it that you don’t mind, especially not when Sukuna just stares at you like you’re most his prized possession.

Sukuna is right by your side the next moment. He’s tamed the next moment, pure comfort and bliss from the way he’s tenderly running his fingers up and down the sides of your body like he’s memorizing the feel of you around him. You both don’t say anything as you place your cheek right above his chest, arms locked on his chest in a desperate cling, but neither does he want you to let go. Sukuna threads his fingers on your hair before you feel his lips caress the crown of your head, mumbling sweet nothings right as you’re welcoming sleep.

Until he taps your breast.

“Little one?”

“Yes?”

“We never had our honeymoon, do we?” he queries, and you twist your head to face him as your brows draw together in thought.

“No, I don’t think we did. I pushed you away from me on our first night together, remember?”

Sukuna’s eyes shone with mischief. “How could I forget? You tried to kill me right after our wedding,” both of you share a laugh at the memory, though there were no more harsh feelings or contempt shared, only love, and love only. Sukuna softens under your gaze as your chuckles tinker down to a giggle, your finger teasingly drawing circles on his chest as you bite your lip. And like always, Sukuna knows you just a little too well. “I know that look. What is it that you want, little one?”

“You.”

“Me?” he repeats with a dark chuckle that sends heat right down to your womanhood. “You already have me, little one, your wish has been granted a long time ago.”

Your face burns. “I mean, I want you. Again. One more.”

“One more?”

“Or maybe a lot more,” you pipe up, but Sukuna’s smirk is growing more and more devious that your former tenacity soon dwindles down into meekness. “O-only if you want to. You must be tired.”

“Little one, I’m the King of Curses, did you really think I would be tired from fucking my sweet little wife?” At his words, Sukuna tilts your chin until you’re left with no choice but to be held captive under his lust. He leans down to teasingly bite your bottom lip, and you’re already breathing hard as you feel his hands begin to trail down to your core that’s more than eager to take him all over again. “Like I said, I worship you, and I’m nothing but a bewitched man who would gladly fuck his wife as long as she asks.”

Safe to say, you couldn’t exorcise curses for quite some time.

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ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

His Protector-Fred Weasley x Reader

(GIF credit to @winter-and-zombies)

Masterlist

Prompts Lists

Summary: At the Battle of Hogwarts, Fred is saved by (Y/N), a close friend of the twins. Both have always had feelings for the other, and in true cliche fashion, neither have admitted this. Years after the battle (where things are somewhat back to normal), the twins have remained friends with her, but it’s only at a Weasley family party does (Y/N) finally say something.

Characters: Fred Weasley x Reader, George Weasley x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Mentions of death, PTSD, injuries, blood, lots of fluff

(A/N: This is quite long! And also the first time I’ve written for Harry Potter, blame it on my FYP on Tik Tok)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

There were no dry eyes from anyone gathered in the Great Hall. It was full of students, resting from the battle and treating injuries, or mourning over friends who didn't make it. Some were huddled together as they sobbed, others keeping to themselves as they tried to stop the horrifying images keep playing in their minds.

The Weasley’s were gathered around Fred, who was laid out on a makeshift stretcher, tears streaming down their faces as they waited for some sign of him waking up. He had dried blood on his face and partly in his hair. When he was first carried in, their immediate thoughts had been he was dead, because he seemed so lifeless. They were extremely grateful when they realised he was breathing, and he had a heartbeat.

Molly stroked back her son’s hair, trying to calm herself down as to not alarm her children. Never in her life did she think they would have to go through something like this, especially at such a young age. These were her babies, and she was going to protect them with her life like any mother would. George sat beside Fred opposite his mum, praying that his brother's eyes would soon open. Although it had been confirmed that he would be alright, albeit with a few injuries, seeing him lying there made it feel like he wasn’t with them anymore. Suddenly, Fred began to stir, scrunching up his eyes and moaning as he felt the pain throbbing through his body.

“How you feeling Freddie?” George quickly asked as the family got closer.

Fred mumbled something, but no one could understand.

“What was that Fred?” Molly quietly said.

“(Y/N)...”

“Who? Who are you talking about?” Molly was sure she had heard the name before, perhaps when the boys were still at school.

“(Y/N), where is she?” Fred moaned.

“I don’t know Freddie.” George replied.“I haven’t seen her since you were brought in.”

“Is..is sh-sh-she a-alive?” Fred was still weak, struggling to speak.

“Fred, please, just rest for now.” Molly begged, not wanting to see him in pain any longer.

“Sh-she’s d-dead?”

As the family struggled to keep Fred still and stop him from panicking, Ginny backed away, knowing the only way Fred would settle was if she found (Y/N). When Fred was carried in, (Y/N) had also been brought him right behind him, but they were separated. She was taken off towards her friends, and in the heat of the moment, Ginny hadn’t questioned if she was alright, making her feel awful.

Although (Y/N) had been close to the twins, she hadn’t been as mischievous as them, not wanting multiple detentions or to get in any trouble as much as they did. It was a surprising friendship between them, especially when (Y/N) was so nice to Ginny, despite the age difference; she was always surprised that the boys never invited her round to their home during the holidays. Because she saw how Fred would sneak glances at the girl, always rolling her eyes at how obvious he was being with his feelings, yet neither one did anything about it.

Ginny ignored the calls from her dad when she set off in the hall to find (Y/N), bombarding her peers with questions, desperate to find her as quickly as possible. Luckily amongst everyone, she spotted (Y/N)’s friends huddled on the floor, holding onto the unconscious girl’s hands. Ginny startled them as she rushed over.

“Is she...” Ginny started.

“She’s alive. But she’s weak.” one of her friends sniffled.

“We need to move (Y/N).” Ginny demanded.

“What?”

“She needs to be beside Fred.”

“Why?”

“She just does! Come on, help me move her. Please!”

The girls glanced between each other, and they knew Ginny wouldn’t be requesting such a thing for no reason. They struggled to navigate her body on the stretcher through the people, Ginny going ahead and commanding that they move out of the way. All eyes were on (Y/N), wondering why they were moving her. Ginny gently ushered George and her father out of the way, the men helping lay (Y/N) down on the floor. Fred also watched, slowly turning his head to look at her, expecting to see her beautiful eyes staring back. But when he saw they were shut, he panicked. He shakily reached out for her hand, struggling to find it as they were crossed over on her stomach. George took on her hands, placing it in Fred’s, smiling at the size difference.

Molly and Arthur looked at each other, wondering why this girl was so special to Fred and also why they hadn’t been told much about her.

“This is (Y/N). She saved Fred’s life.” Ginny explained to her parents."She's alive Fred."

Fred didn't reply, still staring at her and grasping onto her hand. His mind flashed back to seeing her save him, hearing how angry and upset she was as she shouted out her spell, somehow defending him from his death and saving herself. He had blacked out before he could see if she was safe. Although he heard Ginny, it didn't make him feel any better. He just wanted to see her eyes open. That was it.

"(Y/N)." he tried to raise his voice, but his throat was so hoarse that it came out as a whisper. He tried shaking her hand slightly, and again, he was too weak to even do that.

George held (Y/N)'s other hand, trying to help his brother wake up their friend. He too wanted her to wake up, and not just for his brother's sake. Her eyes fluttered open, then quickly shut again. Instinctively she was going to rub her eyes until she realised her hands were preoccupied.

"What's happening?" she breathed out, looking around at the Weasley family.

"You're safe dear." Molly reassured her.

"You're alive." Fred smiled, relief flooding through him.

(Y/N) only realised it was Fred talking beside her, breathlessly laughing as her head lulled to the side. There he was, alive just as she was.

"Fred? Oh my...Y-you're here."

"All thanks to you." George smiled, squeezing her hand.

"I'm so..." she gulped before continuing."I'm so happy you're both safe."

"Please don't do that again." Fred begged.

"Do what?"

"Put yourself in danger to save me."

"Don't be stupid Freddie. You can thank me later."

"Let me guess...lots and lots of chocolates."

"Exactly."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

(Y/N) yawned as she packed up her things from work, tired after another long week. She passed co-workers, waving goodbye and smiling as she left the building. As she put on her hat, she looked up at the sky, smiling at the sight of snow falling. It was turning dark, and seeing the snowflakes illuminated by the street lights made the street she walked down everyday look beautiful. (Y/N) took her first few steps towards her route home, suddenly stopping for an unknown reason. Something was pulling her in the other direction, she wanted to take a different path today.

Following her instincts, she walked in the opposite direction, hypnotised by the weather around her. Once she reached the end of the street, she looked up at the sign post, and the only part of it not covered in snow was the one that said 'Diagon Alley'. She hadn't been down there for so long, she hadn't seen two certain men for so long.

Why was she headed there? And of all the times to go, why now? She hadn't seen the twins for months, not because she didn't want to, but because she was so busy, as were they. Continuing her walk, she thought back to how often they would spend time together, especially after what happened to Hogwarts. She needed solidarity, she needed to be reminded that Fred was still there, that she didn't dream saving him, it had to be real. (Y/N) would regularly visit them, or vice versa, trying to act like everything was normal and that they weren't effected by anything that had happened.

The shops were closed, she could see the owners locking up, beginning to tidy everything away. Lights were dim, signs now said 'closed' and she was one of the few people left in the street after a busy day of shopping. As (Y/N) approached 'Weasleys Wizard Wheezes', she grew nervous, wondering if this really was a good idea. She hadn't seen them for all this time and now she was suddenly turning up on their shop doorstep? Was it rude? Was she being stupid in thinking that they would be totally fine seeing her after a working day?

Mustering up as much courage as she could, (Y/N) forced herself to the front door, seeing that no last minute customers were left. She tried opening the door, luckily it was open, and let herself in.

"Sorry, we're closed!" a voice shouted out.

"Even for me?" she cheekily called back, giggling when a confused George poked his head around a pile of boxes.

He grinned, practically running towards (Y/N) with his arms open wide."Where have you been little miss?"

"I'm sorry, I know this is a random visit but...I don't know, I just thought of coming to see you and Freddie."

"You're welcome here any time of any day. You know that."

They pulled apart, still smiling."Thanks, I just feel bad that I've not made much effort."

"Hey, we're all busy now. Don't worry about it. I'll go get Fred, he's going to love this!"

George was ecstatic as he dashed off to find his brother. All of them were to blame for not catching up more often than they used to, and he had seen how it effected Fred. They had all been each others support system after the battle, but it was clear that Fred and (Y/N) hugged a little tighter than they used to, looked into each others eyes longer, and smiled as much as possible when together. George had always wanted to set them up (he would have preferred involving pranks somehow) and that old itch was back. These two were hopeless with their feelings for one another, he just had to give them a little push in the right direction...into each others arms.

"Freddie!" George exclaimed, laughing when his brother almost dropped a box out of fright.

"What?" Fred sighed as he recovered, placing the box on the floor. He just wanted to get the stock out for the next morning and go home.

"Come see who has paid us a visit."

George said no more, going back to the shop floor, leaving Fred rolling his eyes as he followed. He rolled up his shirt sleeves as they slid down his arms, not paying much attention to his surroundings. So when he looked up and he saw her, his mouth dropped open, shocked to see (Y/N) standing there.

"Would you just get over here and hug me?" (Y/N) joked, though not as boldly as she used to.

Fred just laughed as he did what she said, reaching down to wrap his long arms around her. She had miss how he held her, how tightly he clung onto her, as if it were their last hug ever. George just stood there, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for them to finish.

"What are you doing here?" Fred asked.

"Just wanted to see you both." (Y/N) simply stated.

"Well I'm glad you did."

"How about we go for some drinks? It is the end of the week after all." George suggested.

(Y/N) nodded."Yeah, I'm up for that."

"Well then, let's get packed up Freddie."

(Y/N) offered to help, but the twins refused. They came in and out of the stock room, being as quick as they could. (Y/N) took the opportunity to walk around, see what items they were selling. There were some new products, but most were older classics. She reminisced over all the times the boys used pranks such as the ones in the shop, and how they could sometimes get a lighter punishment, just because everyone loved them. She took part in a few schemes here and there, but only the harmless ones, the ones that would only land her in detention if they got caught.

She came to a stand that held numerous love potions. She smiled as she remembered making Amortentia in her lessons. That had been an awkward class. No one wanted to be picked on and asked what theirs smelt like, not in front of their peers. (Y/N) knew who's hers smelt like as soon as the lid of the bottle popped off.

"No luck in the love department then?" George smirked as he put on his coat.

"Hm?" (Y/N) hadn't been paying attention, thinking back on old times.

"Still not found 'the one'?"

"Oh, no, I don't have time for any of that."

"Well, hopefully Mr Right just stumbles into your life." George was growing more excited by the second.

"Yeah, hopefully."

"Right, ready to go?" Fred appeared.

"Yes-Oh!" George startled them."Freddie, I just had a great idea."

"Oh here we go." (Y/N) joked.

"(Y/N) should come home with us, to the Burrow, for mum's party!"

"A party? Why is your mum throwing a party?"

"Dad got a little bonus at work, mum thinks it's something to celebrate. And it's an excuse for her to get the whole family back together."

"That is an amazing idea actually." Fred beamed.

"I can't impose on something like that. Especially since it's a family thing."

"Nonsense." the twins said in unison.

"Are you sure? I mean, I haven't seen your family for so long."

"Mum would love it." Fred reassured her.

"OK then!" (Y/N) grinned."I've always loved a Weasley party."

"That's settled then," George opened the door,"we'll discuss the details over those drinks that are waiting for us."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Smoothing down her dress once again, (Y/N) checked her tights for any holes or ladders. She had planned her outfit a week before the party, changing her mind countless times before she finally decided on what she wanted to wear. All morning, her heart had been racing, stomach twisting into knots as nerves got the better of her. Why was she so nervous? She had met the Weasley’s many times, she even stayed the Burrow!

There was a knock at the door, meaning the boys were here to pick her up. Sighing, she checked herself one last time in the mirror before going to answer the door. As she opened it, she noticed it was only Fred standing there, no sign of George.

"Hi, where's George?" she asked as she let Fred inside the flat. She took a note of the smart-casual shirt he was wearing; thank god, she was dressed correctly.

"He's waiting downstairs. Said he can't be arsed to walk up all those stairs. Even though there is a lift..."

"Since when did he become so lazy?" (Y/N) giggled, grabbing her handbag and keys. Turning back around, she saw Fred staring at her.

"(Y/N), you look..." Fred was speechless, which was rare for him. He always had a witty remark, a joke or a flirty comment at the ready, but when he was around (Y/N), those words seemed to get stuck in his throat,"...beautiful."

(Y/N) smiled, ducking her head to hide her blush."Th-thanks Freddie. You look very handsome too."

There were so many more words that he wanted to use to compliment her. He wanted to slap himself for using such a basic word. (Y/N) was gorgeous, she was dazzling, he could believe such a smart, independant and caring woman was in his life. Why did he have to stutter or forget how to speak when he was around her? The real words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue, but they would never leave there.

Awkwardly laughing, they left the flat, meeting George outside. George noticed their pink cheeks but didn't mention it, knowing they had embarrassed themselves enough in front of each other.

The journey was full of banter and inside jokes, making it seem like they were students again at Hogwarts. (Y/N)'s nerves about seeing the Weasley’s again had disappeared, but new ones emerged. And they were all because of Fred. (Y/N) wasn't stupid, she had always had feelings for him. But after the battle, she hadn't snatched him up, something held her back, and she just couldn't bring herself to even talk to Fred about it, like any other normal adult would.

The Burrow was just ahead, now the nerves were taken over by excitement. Fred and George reminded (well, warned) (Y/N) how excited their mum was going to be, but she didn't mind. It would be great to receive such an inviting reception. She walked between the twins up to the house, letting them go in first, hesitating slightly as she took in how many people were there; they weren't joking when they said everyone would be there.

"Mum, look who else we brought." Fred struggled to say as he was smothered with kisses across his face.

Molly finally let him go, her smile turning into a shocked expression before letting out a scream, making everyone jump. She didn't waste time bringing (Y/N) into a bone crushing hug. (Y/N) would have laughed if she could breathe, but didn't complain.

"Oh, it's so good to see you dear! It's been too long since you've been back here." Molly held (Y/N)'s cheeks in her hands, looking at how the young girl she knew had turned into a beautiful woman.

“I couldn’t say no when Fred and George invited me.” (Y/N) said through squished lips.

“Alright mum, give her some air.” George gently chuckled.

“Oh, this is so nice.” Molly beamed, glancing between (Y/N) and Fred, who was already looking at her.

It took a good ten minutes for the twins and (Y/N) to greet everyone. She always forgot how many Weasley’s there were, some she had not seen for years. Homemade food was laid out on the table (far more than what was needed), everyone nibbling at anything they fancied as they spoke over drinks. There was a toast held for Arthur, who humbly thanked everyone, bashful over Molly’s speech; and she didn’t leave out mentioning how lovely it was that the family was extending, referring to (Y/N). She had blushed too much recently, avoiding eye contact with Fred as everyone stared at the pair who were stood together.

The day was moving on too quickly, it was becoming dark outside, and she didn’t want the night to end. The family had split into groups, still having much to talk about. (Y/N) decided to refill her drink, parting from the others to head to the kitchen. Just as she found another bottle to open, someone appeared beside her. Craning her neck upwards, she flinched back as Fred held out her coat to her, along with her hat, scarves and gloves.

“We’re not leaving are we?” (Y/N) frowned, not wanting to leave.

“Just popping out.” Fred smiled.

After getting wrapped up, (Y/N) followed Fred outside. Once again, it was lightly snowing, starting to stick to the ground which was already frosty, the sound of grass crunching underneath their shoes. She nonchalantly looped her arm through his, snuggling into him (if he asked, she would blame it on the cold), her heart fluttering when Fred instead wrapped his arm around her shoulders, meaning they could be closer. They didn’t stray too far from the house, Fred casting Lumos to light the way. There was a crumbling stone wall which Fred confidently hopped onto. (Y/N) waited for some part of it to collapse, and when it didn't, she joined him, having to jump higher to reach the top. He laughed, forgetting how much advantage his height have him almost everyday.

"We've never sat here before." (Y/N) commented.

"Honestly, I didn't even know it was here."

"So we were just wandering around?" (Y/N) smiled.

"Yeah." Fred confessed.

“How come you wanted to get out of the house?”

“Uh...I wanted to, well, I thought we could talk.”

“About?” she dragged out the word.

“When I saw you again, after all this time, I realised what an idiot I’ve been.”

“What do you mean?”

“Obviously we’re busy, we’ve both got jobs and it’s always harder to meet up. But I regret that so much. After...what happened at Hogwarts, you were my rock, I always felt normal around you, as if nothing had happened. We were able to carry on with our lives like we had planned. When I didn’t see you, I would lie awake all night with that image of you beside me in the hall. It would never go away.”

“Why have you never told me any of this?”

“I’ve been too scared to reveal anything. I didn’t want to bring anything up, because who would want to be with someone who is still stuck in the past?”

“I would. Fred, you’re not alone in this. I’ve always felt the same. I visited you all those times because my mind would make me think that I never saved you. And if I hadn’t....I don’t know how I would have gone on. Because if I didn’t have you in my life-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, please. We’ve been through so much that we shouldn’t have. But we’re here now, together again.”

Fred held her hand, slowly interlocking their fingers. They both looked down, butterflies erupting in their stomach. The pair glanced at each other, quickly looking away when they realised how close their faces were.

“Why are we acting like kids at school again?” (Y/N) laughed.

“You’re asking the guy who owns and runs a joke shop with his brother, I don’t think I’ve ever stopped being a kid.”

“We did, once.”

“(Y/N), we don’t have to think about that anymore. It’s in the past.”

“Freddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember the last time we were in a situation like this? When you actually had the courage to ask me to the Yule ball?”

“And we went as friends?”

She nodded.“Yep. You know, I was a little disappointed when you added that part.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I was sort of hoping you would ask me out as well. Then when you said that, and I just gave up trying. You never noticed me flirting anyway.”

“I never asked you because I never knew. And you also had guys after you so I didn’t think I had a chance.”

“Are you joking? Fred, no one else was wanting to date me.”

“Now you’re the one who is joking.”

“Well...”

“Well?”

“Let’s not make this more awkward than it already is.”

“Oh it’s awkward now?”

“Fred!” (Y/N) exclaimed but couldn’t help laughing along with him.

“No, no, I’m enjoying this.”

“Fred Weasley, after all this time being idiots and wasting time not being together...”

“What? Did you change your mind-”

(Y/N) didn’t know how to say it, instead closing the already small gap them and kissing him. Fred was shocked by how forward she was, but wasted no time kissing back. Her hands cupped his cheeks as Fred’s hands wound themselves around her waist. This had been long overdue. As they pulled away, breathless from the passionate kiss, Fred started to chuckle.

“What is it?” (Y/N) asked.

“Mum is gonna scream when she finds out about this.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter one shot #harry potter x reader #hogwarts #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley one shot #george weasley x reader

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fictionalmenmistress · 4 years

Text

🌸🍡Taehyung with a chubby darling🍡🌸

In which our best boy reacts to having a bashful girlfriend who happens to be volumptous and curvy... and chubby and soft... and he finds it to be SO SEXY she has no ideaaaa! *Y/N insert story!*

Some NSFW but mostly SFW, some angsty self image views, but soft and fluffy praises. Not requested, but I felt like doing it for a little self-gratification since he'd likely be exactly like this... enjoy lovelies~ 😚

All of my work is labelled under the hashtag #fictionalmenmistress, in the tags 🌸🍡🌸

"Hey baby~" Taehyung devilishly smirks, tucking his head into your shoulder.

"AHH!" You shriek, as your boyfriend squeezes you from behind. You pull out your earbuds and pause your music, spinning around to face him before you. "You SCARED me, Taehyung!"

Taehyung softly chuckled, taking you into his arms. "Awwww my baby... I'm sorry." He cooed, not taking your scolding seriously.

You pull your face away from his gentle hands, as he leaned closer to cup your cheeks... but pouts when he's denied.

"What if a sasaeng broke in and grabbed me or something? Its scary enough to be in such a big house all by myself, you know I'm always looking over my shoulder... because I'm scared of ghosts, and stuff going 'bump' in the night."

"But not us going 'bump' in the night, right?" He mischeviously smirks, taking your hand into his, examining your face with half-closed, lulled eyes.

"Taehyungieeee-" you whine, playfully scolding him to pay attention, as a blush surfaces over your whole face. "You know I scare easily."

"I do too, precious." He quietly assures, before groaning. "OKAYYYY, I won't suprise you off guard anymore... no matter how cute or amusing your reaction may be-" he murmured in submission, letting out a long sigh. "Can't I just... hold you now?"

You blush, as he guides your hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss against the back of your hand. "I missed you all day... you're usually with me at the studio, or waiting with those yummy muffins after dance practice."

You giggle. "You mean the ones I lie to PD-nim about? Saying they're faux muffins, that are really veggie-based, to enhance protein and carb burning?" You ask, lifting your eyebrows in an amused way.

"Yeah, those ones..." Taehyung sighs with a pout. "All the guys love them... even Mister Bang now."

"He does, doesn't he?" You grimace, remembering the tray you made their boss recently, per-request. "I feel bad about lying, now that he thinks they're okay to eat all the time..."

"NOOO we can't lose our muffins!!" Taehyung playfully whines, clinging onto your arm. "He'll make us diet if he knowssss!"

"It sounds like you miss my muffins more than me." You smirk.

Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head, before planting several, slow kisses, up your arm.

"No, there's nothing I wouldn't give to have you by my side. Every day... muffins or no muffins." He giggles, towering over you and gazing into your eyes. "I missed you today."

"I missed you too, Tiger. I had been needing to do some artwork for my webtoon panels." You smile, booping his nose. "I'm trying to build an audience for my own work!"

Taehyung gently groans, pulling you in close by your waist. "You know... I can reccomend it to army on weverse or twitter. You've always been the best story teller I know... so its not like I'd be making up any praises about how amazing it is..."

You run your fingers through his soft hair, as he nuzzles into your neck. You can feel his breath slowing, huffing against your skin to breathe you in. He sends a shiver down your spine, slowly squeezing his hands over your hips, almost like... he's kneeding dough.

"Tae... y-you know I want to make something for myself..." you blush, as his hands sensually explore their way up your back. "I want to have self-made sucsess, doing what I love. It means a lot to me, to say that I did it, without anyone's help."

"Mmmm... my pretty little buisness CEO... I love it when you're ambitious and driven."

You scoff, wriggling in his hold. "Oh please, Tae... I'm not little, c'mon." You blush, this time out of embarrasement.

He can feel your body grow stiffened in his arms.

"Why can't I just praise you?" He whispers, almost saddened that you won't accept the admiration.

He leans back and stares into your eyes, with a small childish pout of dissapointment on his lips. His eyes are big and glossy as they penetrate your soul... like that of a puppy.

Its so wonderfully strange how he can look so intimidating and sexy sometimes... then all of a sudden so soft and baby-ish.

And right when he had you where he wanted you, softening your attention to be on him and distracted... of COURSE he would try to snag a move on you again. There went his large, manly hands... gently gripping and easing into a subtle squeeze on your waist skin... before sliding so slowly and delicately down to your bubbly buttcheeks.

Ah those thick buns and 'thicc' thighs. You love them then you hate them... they jiggle when you move, they always have. And... they have those small dimples in them. You always felt hesitant to let your boyfriend touch the soft spots, worried he may be turned off by the texture of your squishy skin, or how your body isn't tight like his own body. And yet... his gaze and hands always wandered there most... he was so needy for those areas, always trying to weasel his way into exploring them.

You were pretty confident about your big breasts, however. Those didn't make you feel like 'too much' for him. Well... besides the faded stretchmarks from them growing so quickly during middle school. Puberty... it just kinda hit you like a truck. You went from looking like a scrawny child to looking like a shapely woman with a baby doll face.

Parents would get mad at you trick or treating, assuming you were a college student dressing up and requesting candy. And those pervy older men were always such a pesty, creepy problem. All this to say, you became very aware of your body, very fast. Your other classmates were still skinny and shapeless, with more boxy frames than curvy frames, and none of the boys in your class ever seemed to be attracted to you, over the girls like them.

As Taehyung has said once before though... a young boy wants to knaw on bones, while a grown man hungers for the meat.

"Did you just compare me to meat?" You asked him after the fact.

"No! No... that's not what I..." He giggled, shaking his head. "Its just an old saying, that I only really understood when I grew up. Basically, women with shape are the sexiest to men... but teenage boys are attracted to a more child-like, thinner look." he quietly said.

His words echoed through your head, before you attention re-gathered in the moment happening now.

"You're little to me..." he innocently cooed.

Yes, I suppose height-wise you were shorter than your tall boyfriend. But you always wondered if you looked too... big... standing next to him. He was so lean... with practically no fat on his firm, toned body. But you were soft all over. And seeing Taehyung at award shows... surrounded by all of those dainty, tiny girlgroup idols... they looked like they could fit in his hands. But you... you felt so big sometimes, with your foreign genetics.

Taehyung never seemed to care, and he never said anything but praises, but you still wondered in the back of your mind. Did he think you were too much for him?

Taehyung liked a challenge. The more you shyed away, the more he pressed into you, cradling you in his grasp. (He knew the difference between you being shy versus being non-consenting, and NEVER went against your limits or desires. He read people quite well, especially you...)

"Taehyung..." you gulped, feeling your lips trembling to get the words out. "D-do you think I'm... f-fat?" You stammer. The look on his face is almost appalled, angered. Who would make you have such a false impression?

"What?" He repeated. "Fat? Absolutely NOT." He corrected, tilting up his chin confidently.

"B-but... according to Korean standards..." you muttered, beginning to ramble now that pandora's box had been opened. "I'm-"

"Don't say it." He coldly ordered. "Korean beauty standards are unrealistic and drive even the skinniest and prettiest of Korean women to get surgeries that promise an 'ideal image'. But, everyone is perfect exactly as they are. I know you know that, and you know I know that too. So, screw what advertising comanies call the 'ideal image' in my country or yours. Ideal image, my ass."

"Taehyung!" You gasp, suprised that he swore. Your boyfriend wasn't one to swear... it was a rare quality about him.

The way he worded it made you chuckle at a realization.

"Well, your butt is indeed the ideal image..." you murmured, making Taehyung smirk to see you amused and feeling a little better.

"I'm glad you think so, Jagiya~" he cooed, guiding you to the couch without his arms leaving your waist. You trusted him wholly, to guide you backwards, or anywhere.

Taehyung suddenly slipped his arm under one of your knees, making you yelp as he pulled your thigh up against the side of his body. He confidently smiles all the while, his intimate gaze never leaving your eyes. You feel his hand squeeze the thigh, and you could tell he was doing it less for support to lift you onto the couch, and moreso to feel your volumptuous form in his grasp. Ohhh he loved your thighs... your soft, lovely thighs...

He slowly leaned into you, guiding you to recline back onto the expensive, large, comfy couch.

You giggled, as he leaned all of his body onto you, squishing you playfully under him.

"Taehyung!" You laughed. "You're squishing me!"

"I want all of my body to be against your perfect body." He sweetly grinned. "There's not an inch of me that doesn't belong to you."

"Well, you're suprisingly heavy..." you playfully pout, succumbing to the comortable pressure his body was pressing into you. It was arousing, actually...

"And you're suprisingly light." He gently remarked, flipping you both so you were on top of him. You knew he didn't mean that in a bad way.

"Or you're just strong..." you sighed.

"Maybe I'm strong... but your body is perfect to me. The way you FEEL..." he began, greedily squeezing his palms over the softest parts of your thighs. "The way you LOOK..." he hungrily growled, almost an octive deeper... sending a shiver through your core as he drank in the image before him. His eyes widened as they scanned over your bouncing large breasts in his view, as he watched you sit up, straddling him as he lied there. The smile on his face was pleasured, pleased. He was a happy man to have you on top of him, no matter how light or heavy you were... he WANTED you to press your lovely form into him. "The way you walk... so bouncy and sexy... I feel jealous about how the hyungs check you out when your back is turned." His voice turned devilishly lower... deeper... as if wrathful for revenge. "Its a crime that any man gets to see your godess-like form standing before them, besided me."

"Th-they do that?" You blush, not realizing the rest of the boys saw you in that way.

"Mhmm... all of them do. Its soooo not fairrr..." he grumbled under his breath, almost purring as he took in the sight of your squishy tummy against his chest, and your juicy thighs around him. "Kitten~" he desperately sighed. "I get so HARD, just IMAGINING how you look IN clothes that cover you completely... let alone the f-fantasies of you naked~" he humms, with a hitch in his breathy whispers.

"Hh-huhh..." he sighs, his breath hitching again, as his eyes lazily roll into the back of his head, before re-drifting back down onto you. Just the remembrance gets him THAT hot and bothered??

"For realsies?" You coyly, bashfully ask.

"Of course, kitten. Would I lie to you?" He asks, raising his eyebrows with a confident smirk.

"Maybe... if it would make me feel better..." you dissapointedly assume.

He sits up, supporting himself on one of his arms, making his chest press against your breasts through your shirt. You were face to face now... just staring into one another's eyes.

"NEVER." He assured. "I would never lie to you. There's no reason for me to lie to make you feel better, Jagi. You're literally a goddess."

You feel your cheeks flume red. "G-goddess?"

"Yes! Renaissance masters didn't sculpt ideal greek godess statues with soft curves for nothing..." he grumbled, blushing at the sight of your innocent face.

"Ohh Taehyungie..." you dreamily sighed, leaning fully against his chest as he slowly lowered you both down, to lie against one another horizontally.

"The way our bodies are so different... the way yours is so soft comared to how hard and stiff mine is... its perfect." He gently cooed. "I'm surpised that you're so comfy in my arms."

"Oh Tae, you're my safe place. I love how you feel... I love how you hold me." You intimately whispered.

He stared deeply into your eyes, as a gentle smile rested on his admiring, sculpted, handsome face.

"Didn't you find me during our Love Yourself era?" He asked, cocking a brow.

"Mhmm." You responded, rapidly nodding your head up and down in such a soft, innocent way.

Taehyung giggled, endeared at your cuteness. "Okay then. I want you to love yourself... because I love you. All of you."

He gently lifted your loose shirt up enough to grab onto your waist, running his hands slowly down the sides of you, to squeeze your soft tummy in his hands, his eyes practically glistening with desire.

"Ever inch of you... every hair, every patch of skin, every tint and shade, every texture. You belong to me, and you're the sexiest being in existance. And all of me belongs to you, only you, forever. Alright?" He romantically assured, gazing hopelessly into your eyes.

The soft smile that pulled into his lips, let you know the fullest sincerity of his tone. "Okay." You smile, leaning into his lips to kiss him.

Slowly, passionately you kissed, deepening the intimate act with every second. Soon enough, your hands were running all over one another, tilting your heads to reach your tongues into the deepest parts of your mouth. Body to body... you both were perfect, together and apart, exactly as you are... he loved you.

🌸 the end 🌸 (for more, visit my hashtag: #fictionalmenmistress in the tags 🥰 requests and headcannons are also open!)

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spine-buster · 3 years

Text

Patience is a Virtue ft. Matthew Tkachuk | 𝒯𝑒𝓂𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒

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. ̲𝖳̲𝗁̲𝗂̲𝗌̲ ̲𝖼̲𝗁̲𝖺̲𝗉̲𝗍̲𝖾̲𝗋̲ ̲𝗌̲𝗉̲𝖾̲𝖼̲𝗂̲𝖿̲𝗂̲𝖼̲𝖺̲𝗅̲𝗅̲𝗒̲ ̲𝗁̲𝖺̲𝗌̲ ̲𝗆̲𝖾̲𝗇̲𝗍̲𝗂̲𝗈̲𝗇̲𝗌̲ ̲𝖺̲𝗇̲𝖽̲ ̲𝖽̲𝖾̲𝖺̲𝗅̲𝗌̲ ̲𝗐̲𝗂̲𝗍̲𝗁̲ ̲𝗍̲𝗋̲𝖺̲𝗎̲𝗆̲𝖺̲ ̲𝖺̲𝗋̲𝗂̲𝗌̲𝗂̲𝗇̲𝗀̲ ̲𝖿̲𝗋̲𝗈̲𝗆̲ ̲𝗆̲𝗂̲𝗌̲𝖼̲𝖺̲𝗋̲𝗋̲𝗂̲𝖺̲𝗀̲𝖾̲𝗌̲ ̲𝖺̲𝗇̲𝖽̲ ̲𝗌̲𝖾̲𝗑̲𝗎̲𝖺̲𝗅̲ ̲𝖺̲𝖻̲𝗎̲𝗌̲𝖾̲.̲ Please be warned.

Word Count: 15,503

A/N: I have been loving your feedback on this story so far. Your canon question about Matthew and Effie are great and I would love to hear and answer more. It means the world to me that a plot this...unconventional, let’s say, is really taking hold and generating interest. I know that there’s some really, really serious stuff dealt with in the chapters, so I appreciate everyone’s feedback and maturity about it. As always, please check the content warning for this chapter. Otherwise, I hope everyone enjoys the update!

* * * * *

She wrote every message on Instagram like an email, and Matthew couldn’t get enough of it.

Hello Matthew,

Today was interesting. I started classes for my business certificate today. I sat in a room with about 50 other people and I listened to my professor speak about the course prospectus and what we would be learning and doing. I didn’t meet any new people or make any new friends but that’s okay. I want to focus on my studies. I already have homework.

How has St. Louis been? I bet you are excited to be back home. I hope you are relaxing and staying safe.

Sincerely, Effie Schaffer

I know you are going to ace that program, Effie. You’re very talented and smart and it’ll be no time until you find yourself with a certificate and able to explore more job opportunities.

St. Louis is good. Brady and Taryn are home too so it’s good to be surrounded by family. I know it’s not the same for you but one day I think you will find a group of friends that will make up your family. Most days I go golfing with my dad. I usually relax by our pool too, or play basketball or some other sport with Brady. I go to the gym too, to keep up on my fitness for next season.

Hello Matthew,

Class was good today. We started the beginning lectures. The professor went quickly but I was able to keep up. I’m definitely learning how to type fast on my laptop!

You said in your message that I’m very talented but I don’t think I’m talented. I’m maybe talented at some things like baking, but I don’t think I’m talented in much else. Talents are developed over time and I was never given the opportunity to develop anything because I was expected to be a good wife, tend to children, and read the Bible. Sometimes I think about if I could have been a piano player or a singer or something creative. Maybe I could have been a writer like Geneviève if I was given the opportunity young, but I wasn’t. But that’s okay. I am trying to make my peace with it. I will develop what I have now and try to use it for good.

Sincerely, Effie Schaffer

Nobody bakes like you, Effie. Please don’t think you are not talented, because you are. I know you weren’t able to develop anything like you said, but you can still find your talents now. You’re still young! You’re only entering your 20s in a few weeks. You can do whatever you set your mind to.

Hi Matthew,

Levi and Jenna took me to the mall again today. We bought some new clothes that fit me better and aren’t so baggy. They look really nice. I even bought a dress that falls right at my knee. Can you believe it?! I never thought I’d wear something like that. I never thought anybody else would be able to see my legs! It’s a very weird feeling but it’s a very pretty dress. Jenna said I should wear it for my birthday and I think I’m going to do it. Do you want to see it? I can send you a picture of it if you want.

I checked the weather in St. Louis and saw there was a big thunderstorm. I hope you weren’t caught it in or anything. I can’t imagine your curly hair getting wet in the rain and what it would look like.

Sincerely, Effie Schaffer

What are you trying to say about my hair??????????

I would love to see your dress. I bet it looks great on you. And you will need to send me pictures of you wearing it on your birthday.

They happened daily. Usually sometime after dinner, when Matthew knew Effie had just finished eating and was either winding down for the night or preparing to do homework. Every day, he waited for the message. And every day, he’d grab his phone the second he heard the notification, not bothering to wait, and read the message eagerly.

***

Matthew found himself at a raucous house party, one that could have been characteristic of any stereotypical college experience or American movie trying to depict a traditional American life. It felt like it was straight out of the American Pie movies. A friend of his was hosting, and there was everything – beer kegs, jungle juice, trashed guys jumping into the pool, music blasting so loud Matthew almost couldn’t hear his own thoughts, girls taking selfies and posting to Instagram or complaining about boys at the party not paying attention to them.

Hot girls taking selfies and posting to Instagram or complaining about boys – he and Brady – not paying attention to them.

Brady was taken and accounted for – Emma was great and Matthew loved her, even though he saw her only sparingly – and so most of the attention tonight was placed on Matthew. He was the shiny new toy every time he came back to St. Louis in the summers – well, shiny always, but new not so much. Nothing was new about him being in St. Louis in the summer, but everybody always treated is as such a big deal because he spent most of the year in Calgary. That’s why attention was always on him, especially at parties like this. That’s why everybody wanted to talk to him. That’s why all the girls wanted to talk to him. Matthew didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to enjoy his night with his buddies, drinking beer and chatting them all up.

That was…until Leah made an appearance.

Leah, a girl. Leah, a girl he would hook up with in the summers…occasionally. Sporadically. Like, once a summer when he was back. Maybe twice. She’d always show up everywhere and smile and be nice. And when Matthew was tipsy, or just a little bit drunk, he’d think ‘What the hell’ and let the night take him where it wanted to take him.

Just like now.

“Hey Matty,” she cooed, smiling as she always did and biting the bottom of her lip. She went in for a hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He could swear she spilled some of her jungle juice on his neck.

“Hey Leah,” he said, his lips in a tight smile as she pulled away. She was wearing a frilly crocheted top and cut-off denim shorts. She looked hot. Any guy at the party would have wanted to hook up with her. “How are you?”

“Better now that I see you,” her flirting was automatic. “How long have you been back for?”

“A few weeks,” Matthew shrugged his shoulders.

“And no call or text? Ouch, Matty.”

“You always show up places,” he found himself saying, feeling his lips curve into a smirk. “Didn’t think I needed to call.”

“Well then maybe I should have sent you a text.”

The party went on. Matthew hung out with his buddies and talked up a storm. Everybody got a kick out of his hockey stories and were practically begging for more. He’d catch Leah staring at him from a few friend groups away where she stayed with her girlfriends, or from across the backyard or something, and she’d always bite her lip and flutter her eyelashes. The beers kept pouring down his throat and he noticed her get closer and closer until she wiggled her way in with her friends. It probably took a while, but in Matthew’s mind, it felt like it was only a minute until she was right in front of him, red solo cup in her hand.

“Have you tried the jungle juice?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I’ve been drinking beer all night.”

“Come get some inside with me,” she said, already grabbing his hand. She wasn’t taking no for an answer. She pulled him as he staggered behind her, almost tripping on the steps of the patio and while walking through the screen door. When they finally got to the kitchen, Leah looked over her shoulder and winked before tugging Matthew nearer to her body. She spun around in front of the jungle juice to pour some more into her cup. When she did, Matthew could feel her ass up against his groin. He felt like he was going to pass out from the beer.

“Did you miss me, Matty?” she asked as she looked at him over her shoulder again.

“I miss everyone in St. Louis,” he replied.

Leah apparently didn’t like that response, because she grinded her ass up against his groin even harder now. “Don’t say that,” she cooed. “I know you miss me. It’s not like there’s anybody in Calgary like me.”

Matthew hummed. She was right. There wasn’t anybody like her in Calgary.

Effie was nothing like her.

Matthew’s stomach twisted as images of Effie flooded his mind. The first one that came was the day he had picked her up at the hairdresser’s when she’d chopped off all her hair. She looked so cute, and he remembered how bashful he was. Then came the image of her sitting on another couch watching Little Women intently, at least fifteen bags of candy spread out on the coffee table of Levi’s basement. She was so into watching the movie, and he was so into watching her. Then came the image of her face, sweet and innocent and beautiful – the last face he saw in Calgary before heading to the airport and boarding a plane to St. Louis. “No,” he mumbled out, half-drunk and heart aching.

“No,” Leah repeated with a smile on her face, turning around finally to face him before trailing her finger down his chest and letting in linger on the hem of his jeans. “There’s nobody in Calgary like me.”

He furrowed his brows. He wanted out, but his feet felt like cement. They always were when he was on the edge of being drunk. He gulped. “Where’s Brady?”

“Come with me, Matty,” she tugged at his jeans before grabbing his hands again and dragging him through the house. She kept looking over her shoulder to smile at him and he kept looking back towards the backyard. “I know what you need.”

She led him down a hallway, and at the end of that hallway was the bathroom. She turned on the light and dragged him inside, shutting the door behind them and locking it. She looked at him suggestively when the click filled the air. “Le—”

“Shhh…” she pressed her finger against his lips to shut him up, replacing them quickly with her lips as she began to kiss him.

Matthew closed his eyes.

These weren’t Effie’s lips.

She was kissing his neck now, and had backed him into the sink so he could lean against it. Her hands wandered down to the button and zipper of his jeans. Suddenly, she dipped down and was on her knees in front of him. “Want me to suck you off, Matty?”

“N—No,” he stuttered out, looking down at her. Matthew felt the zipper being pushed down and her hand on his groin.

“You can come down my throat,” she offered.

He closed his eyes tightly, and in the darkness, he saw only one person: Effie.

The only thing that brought him back – because he could have stayed alone in the bathroom with his eyes closed and the image of Effie in his mind for the rest of the God damn party if he really wanted to – was the sound of his zipper being pushed down dramatically. He opened his eyes. “Would you stop?!” he demanded, wiggling out of where he’d been backed into the sink. He grabbed the front of his pants and zipped them up again.

Leah, still on her knees, spun around and glared at him. “Oh you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” she got up slowly, not breaking eye contact. “You have someone in Calgary?” she demanded.

Matthew refused to answer as he did up his button.

“Who the fuck is she?” she demanded again.

“There’s nobody.”

“Fucking hell there’s nobody. What’s her name?”

“Don’t go there, Leah. As if I’d tell you.”

“You’re fucking someone in Calgary? Since when?”

“As if I’d tell you,” he repeated.

She gave him one last glare because unlocking the door. “Fuck you Matthew Tkachuk. You’ll fucking miss me.”

“Doubt it.”

***

Hi Matthew,

I went to a Starbucks today to work on some school work and people watch. When you get back to Calgary, we will need to find a new Starbucks because the one near Levi’s house is too far away now. Anyway, I was working on an assignment and watching people interact and go about their daily lives. It was eye-opening and a bit weird to me. A lot of people were on their phones! It makes me wonder if I should be on it more…? A lot of the girls who walked in were really fashionable and it makes me want to go shopping again. I don’t think I’ll ever look as good as Geneviève or Annica but I could definitely try, and they could help me. I learn a lot by people watching. Does that make me weird?

I had a Zoom call with Geneviève and Jacob in Sweden. She is doing well and helped me with my assignment a little bit. I’ve been baking shortbread recently, and I’m going to make butter tarts tomorrow. I miss you being my taste-tester, but I bet you are happy to have home cooking. Sometimes I wonder if my siblings miss my cooking but I doubt they do.

Did you think I was weird when I said I didn’t miss my family at all?

Sincerely, Effie Schaffer

I do not think you are weird at all for not missing your family. They were abusive. You have no reason to miss them.

People are addicted to their phones these days, which is why you’re so refreshing. You’re not a slave to it…at least yet lol. I hurt my eyes sometimes from staring at my screen too long.

I can’t wait to eat ALL of your baking when I get back. It’s the best, Effie. It really is.

I miss you a lot.

Hi Matthew,

I miss you too.

Thank you for not thinking I’m weird for not missing my family.

I’ve been watching a lot of movies and listening to a lot of music. I’ve been researching what’s been popular since I was born and I’m trying to, like, catch up I guess. Some of the movies I don’t like or don’t get. Some of them are really funny, and I watched them because I know people quote them all the time. Like this movie called Bridesmaids. I want to be able to get references people make even though I wasn’t in the moment of them. There are some movies I’ve read about online that seem amazing, but I don’t want to watch them alone. They are:

Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind Moonlight There Will Be Blood Shoplifters Brokeback Mountain The Master Unorthodox

When you come back to Calgary, would you watch them all with me?

Sincerely, Effie Schaffer

Of course I’ll watch them all with you.

***

Effie Schaffer woke up the morning of her 20th birthday, on July 7, 2021, to her phone ringing. Birthdays were not a thing in the People’s Dominion of Christ. They were not celebrated. Effie always knew when hers was, but as a kid she never had a birthday party, and when she was forced to marry the prophet, she hated her birthday. Hated it. She always wished that the prophet would forget about it but he never did. It was the one day of the year she spent the most time praying, and when she was not praying, she was with the prophet on his demand. Several weeks later, usually, after a lot of blood loss and visit from the cult’s midwife (though she wasn’t properly medically trained), Abraham would tell Effie that everything was her fault, that God was testing him when He spoke to Abraham and told him to take Effie as his wife. “July 7. 7/7. One number above the Devil,” he’d tell her. “That’s what you are. Just above the devil. Your blood and your loss are the signs of having the devil in you. That’s why you refuse to carry my Son of God.”

She wasn’t expecting anybody to call besides Levi and Jenna, but they said they would be picking her up at noon anyway. After she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and sat up in bed a little bit, she was pleasantly surprised, albeit a little shocked, to see Matthew’s name flash across the screen. The giant FaceTime text was at the bottom of screen. Effie swiped to answer. After a bit of lagging, Matthew’s smiling face appeared. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” he screamed, loudly, causing her to jump slightly.

“Thank you, Matthew,” she said, her heartbeat going back to normal.

“How does it feel to officially be in your twenties?” he asked.

Effie could barely think, so she shrugged. “When I wake up and my brain starts working, I’ll tell you.”

Matthew furrowed his brows. It was only then that he noticed half of her hair in a scrunchie and the pillows behind her head. “Oh shit, I fucked up time zones, didn’t I?” he asked worriedly. “What time is it there?”

Effie looked at her watch. “It’s 7:30 in the morning.”

“I woke you up! Jesus Effie, I’m so sorry,” he began to apologize. “I’m such an idiot—”

“It’s okay, Matthew,” she said, smiling at how his own smile had faded from his face when he realized he had woken her up early. 7:30 in the morning would have been a godsend two years ago, when she usually woke up at 5:30. “It’s nice to be woken up by your voice on my birthday, actually. Someone is at least treating it like a birthday.”

“Levi’s gonna treat you,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if Levi wouldn’t.

“I know,” she said. “I mean, like…before. Birthdays weren’t exactly a celebration.”

“You never used to celebrate your birthday?” he asked, thinking back to all the amazing birthdays his parents had thrown he and his siblings over the years. Because his was so close to Christmas, it was extra special. His parents always made sure Christmas didn’t overshadow it too much. Same with Taryn being born on Halloween. Brady’s parties were always good too because they were right after the start of school, so usually the entire class would be invited.

“No,” Effie shook her head. Matthew was sort of waiting for her to elaborate, but it seemed like she didn’t want to. He left it at that. “Levi’s taking me to that steakhouse we went to for Noah’s birthday,” she informed him. “I think I’m gonna have another tomahawk.”

Matthew smiled again. “Please do, in honour of me.”

“Maybe I’ll take a picture of it to show you what you’re missing.”

“Believe me, I know what I’m missing,” he said. He bit his lip, wondering for a quick second if he should tell her about the gifts coming her way. He quickly decided against it, thinking it would be better left as a surprise. “I’m sorry I can’t be there, Effie.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Matthew,” she told him, meaning it sincerely. “It’s an amazing thing that you’re so close to them. I…believe me, I know how important that is…to be able to have people who love you unconditionally, to be able to have people who love you and want to see you and always have your best interests at heart. I would never want to take that away from you. And besides, when we watch all those movies together…you’ll be there. We’ll be reunited.”

He licked his lips, nodding quickly. “You bet.”

***

Matthew had been lying around the house all day after playing a round of golf with his dad that morning. He’d tanned by the pool with Taryn and ate straight from the bag of Veggie Straws, but he was pretty glued to his phone because he wanted to see the delivery updates for the gifts he’d gotten Effie for her birthday.

The first gift was a giant bouquet of flowers. Peonies, mostly, of course, because of her tattoo, set in a beautiful vase. He’d gotten the delivery notification, then about five minutes later he’d received a picture of it from Effie over Instagram saying thank you. Fifteen minutes later, she uploaded a photo of it to her Instagram feed and tagged him. ‘Beautiful bouquet of peonies from my friend Matthew! I am twenty years old today.’ was her caption. That was the first gift.

The second was a delivery of some cookies from an amazing bakery in Calgary that Annica and Geneviève always ordered from. The cookies were divine, but realistically, they weren’t better than Effie’s cookies. But Effie making cookies for her own birthday wasn’t exactly a gift, so he knew he’d have to order her a batch. Again, he’d gotten the notification that the cookies had been delivered, and ten minutes later, Effie had sent a selfie of her with one of the chocolate chip cookies. ‘Yum!’ she’d texted with the photo. Another notification on Instagram told him Effie had uploaded another photo and tagged him in it. ‘My friend Matthew gave me cookies too! How sweet! Cookies are some of my favourite treats.’ He absolutely loved her feed and the way she used Instagram. If he had to delete everyone else and just follow her, he’d do it.

The last gift was the trickiest. He didn’t know how she’d react. But she didn’t have one of her own – she’d been borrowing Jenna’s – and she needed one, quite literally, for her job. He wondered if she’d like the colour. And the make. And all the attachments.

A ‘MATTHEW, YOU DIDN’T’ text suddenly came through on his phone, and he couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear. It was the first time it didn’t sound like an email.

Do u like it? he texted back.

I LOVE IT IN THE PISTACHIO TOO MY FAVOURITE COLOUR AND THE SIFTER ATTACHMENT AND THE ICE CREAM MAKER ATTACHMENT MATTHEW!

Im happy u like it! Now u can bake all you want and not have to borrow Jenna’s

“Taryn, mom needs you inside to help with something,” Brady’s voice boomed through the silence of the backyard. Matthew heard the screen door burst open, and watched conspicuously through his sunglasses as Brady more or less barged towards them.

“Can she wait?” Taryn didn’t make any effort to move.

“Now Taryn. She seems pretty adamant,” Brady didn’t give up, his tone serious as he continued to walk towards them.

Taryn grumbled and got up from her seat. Matthew locked his phone and pretended not to care, even when Brady took Taryn’s place in her lawn chair right beside him and didn’t bother lying down. Instead, he sat facing Matthew, elbows on his knees and hands joined together, like he was a cop about to interrogate his brother. “Who’s in Calgary?”

Matthew looked over at him. “Huh?”

“Who’s in Calgary?” Brady asked again.

Matthew was confused. “G…Gio?” he asked.

“Who’s in Calgary that made you not hook up with Leah at the party?”

Matthew’s heart dropped in the pit of his stomach. For fuck sakes. He sighed deeply and took off his sunglasses, trying to make it seem like everything was being blown out of proportion when, really, Matthew just didn’t want people knowing. But he told Brady everything – everything. He was sort of impressed that the secret had lasted this long, if he was being honest. “Brady…” he began, his voice low.

Brady took off his sunglasses too. “There’s a girl.”

“Sort of. It’s complicated.”

“It’s complicated? What’s her name?”

Matthew thought about not telling him, but there was no point. Brady would find out eventually, and Matthew would rather Brady learn the news from him than from the rumour mill or from Leah stalking his social media. “It’s…Effie.”

“Effie?”

“Who’s Effie?” Taryn voice boomed. The boys whipped their head to see her standing at their family room’s sliding doors, hiding behind the screen door.

“Taryn!” both brothers yelled at their sister.

“Effie? Who’s Effie?” Chantal called out from the kitchen.

“What’s an Effie?” Keith asked from beside Chantal.

“Oh my GOD this is a disaster!” Matthew screamed out in frustration. “Get out of here, Taryn!”

“Who’s Effie?” Brady demanded once more.

Matthew put his heads in his hands dramatically before giving up. There was no way he was going to get out of this. Now his whole family would know. It would be a game of telephone, and by the end of his and Brady’s conversation, Keith would hear Matthew married a girl named Jessie who’d grown up in a hut. “You remember me talking about one of our physio guys? Levi Schaffer?” Matthew asked. Brady nodded. “His younger sister.”

Brady furrowed his brows. “Isn’t Levi in his thirties? You’re dating an older woman, Matthew?”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “No, you dolt. She’s fifteen years younger than he is.”

“SHE’S FIFTEEN?!”

“WHAT?!” Taryn screamed from the screen door again.

“AAAAAAARGHHHH!” Matthew screamed in absolute frustration. “You are literally the dumbest person alive, you know that right?!” he screamed at Brady.

“Matthew! Apologize to your brother!” Chantal called from the house, opening the screen door and stepping through into the backyard with Keith.

“But mom! He’s an idiot!”

“Matthew,” Keith’s voice bellowed. “Now.”

“Sorry,” Matthew grumbled. His parents always made the siblings do this stuff, ever since they were kids. “Can we just drop it all?” he asked.

“Nope. We’re all here now,” Brady said. “Who’s Effie?”

Matthew sighed heavily. “She’s a girl I met through my friend Levi at work.”

“What’s the big deal? Are you dating her?” Keith asked.

“No,” Matthew answered immediately, shaking his head. “No. We’re not dating. Not at all. She…” he began, trying to find the right words.

“She…” Brady egged on.

“She’s a bit…” Matthew began again. How was he going to tell them? How was he gonna word it? Should he sugar coat it or just come out and say it? “She’s a bit…different. She…she and Levi grew up in one of those, like, religious cults, out in rural Alberta. But a year and a half ago, she escaped, and she’s been trying to adjust to the real world ever since. I met her in January, at Noah’s birthday. And ever since, I’ve just been, like…helping her experience the normal world.”

The entire Tkachuk family was silent as they processed the information. They were definitely expecting a much different explanation from Matthew, that was for sure. “A religious cult, Matthew?” Chantal was the first to speak. Matthew nodded his head. Chantal grew serious. “Was she abused?”

Matthew hesitated, but he eventually nodded his head. It wasn’t his business to tell – he knew that – but he couldn’t lie to his own mother. “She could only wear dresses. She had to read the Bible all day. She was married at fourteen to the leader of the cult who was 55. That sort of thing,” he explained briefly, not wanting to give any more details.

Chantal looked concerned. Keith looked at his wife before looking back at his son. “So you’re not dating her, but you’re helping her learn about the real world,” Keith clarified. Matthew nodded again. Keith looked at Brady. “Then that’s none of our business! What’s the big deal?” he huffed.

“It’s not—”

“Why’re you busting his balls then?”

“Keith!” Chantal chastised.

***

Hi Matthew,

I still can’t believe you got me the stand mixer. I love it so much. It’s the only thing that I have out on my countertop because there’s no reason to hide it. And the pistachio colour is sooooooo beautiful. I promise that as a token of appreciation, I’m going to bake you whatever sweets you want when you get back to Calgary. Seriously. Anything you want. Even if I haven’t made it before. And I’ll make ice cream too!

I have been taking some walks around Calgary in my spare time. It’s a really beautiful city. Sometimes I will do my walks at night and see all the young people out at restaurants and bars and all the light are lit up downtown, and it’s even more beautiful. It’s so nice to see life in people. Everybody in the cult was so miserable. Maybe I’m just saying that because I was so miserable, but that’s how I remember it. Nobody was happy about life. Well, they weren’t happy about life like the people in downtown Calgary are on a Friday or Saturday night.

Sincerely, Effie Schaffer

Calgary is definitely a beautiful city, and I’m happy that you’re starting to see that. Wait until you see even more of the country and the world one day! All of those young people that you see out and about are your age. I know you are probably very nervous to make new friends, but if you ever want to go out to one of those places, I’m sure Levi or Jenna would take you. When the team gets back into the city, I know any of the guys would take you too, just like when we went out for Andrew’s birthday. You just let us know when. And I apologize in advance for Noah’s behaviour.

I’m going to put in a request for snickerdoodles. My mom used to make them a lot growing up, but she doesn’t make them as much now because then I’d eat them all and get too pudgy.

Hi Matthew,

Snickerdoodles it is. I will perfect the recipe before you come back.

On top of movies, I’ve also been listening to music. Levi lets me use his Spotify. He also told me what an iPod is…was. Have you heard of Adele? She’s amazing! I love her voice. Most of the time I just let Spotify recommend me things and I end up liking them, but Levi introduced me to some bands too. Have you heard of Bruce Springsteen? Taylor Swift? The Tragically Hip? Red Hot Chili Peppers? They’re all so good. Red Hot Chili Peppers is Levi’s favourite band. I also really like listening to Coldplay. I think they’re my favourite out of all of them. But I also like dancing songs, like the songs that have a good beat. I wasn’t allowed to dance before (it was too sensual and would tempt the men) so now I feel like I should let it all out.

Sincerely, Effie Schaffer

Dance your heart out Effie. Fuck them.

Fuck them.

***

Matthew was antsy. Antsy. The second the plane landed in Calgary, his leg was bobbing up and down to get off the plane, grab his bags, and go straight to Effie’s apartment.

It was the first time since he had lived in Calgary that he wanted to go anywhere but his apartment after a flight back to the city. But Effie had that effect on him these days. He hadn’t seen her in three months – almost four. And he was dying to. FaceTimes and Instagram-messages-formatted-as-emails could only do so much, and satisfy so much in his mind. He needed to see her, physically see her. He didn’t know what had happened to him in the past few months, especially since he and Effie had left on such a good note. No need to rush things. Take the time. But this entire summer, all Matthew could think about was her. All he dreamt about was her. He wondered if it was the same for her too. And he wondered, if it was, if she would admit it.

Once he got his bags from baggage claim, he hightailed it out of the airport and got into a taxi. He gave the driver Effie’s address, and within half an hour, he found himself with his suitcases at the foot of her apartment.

Okay, so maybe he didn’t think this through.

He hauled both of his suitcases up the staircase, most definitely putting chips in the wood steps along the way. It reminded him of moving her in to the place months ago, with him yelling at Sean for half of the day but ending with a slice of pie and his first kiss from Effie. He didn’t know what to expect now, but he knew that whatever he’d get, he’d be happy with. He knocked on her door and waited.

When Effie opened it, she looked confused because she wasn’t expecting anybody. But the second she saw Matthew’s face, her face lit up like a night show of fireworks. “Matthew!” she squealed, jumping on him and wrapping her arms tightly around his broad shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “What are you doing here?! You weren’t supposed to be back in Calgary for a few days!” the shock was still evident in her voice.

“Just thought I’d take an earlier flight out,” he said casually. “Gonna need to customize to the time change anyway.”

As if an hour was going to be a big shock to his system.

When Effie pulled away, she still kept her hands on his shoulders and he kept his hands at her waist. She’d gained more weight throughout the summer, thankfully, and filled out more. The pair of jeans she was wearing actually fit. The top she was wearing actually fit too – a simple navy-striped long sleeve. He was happy to see that. She’d been so frail when he met her in January. She looked like she had life in her now. “Have you even gone home?” she asked, looking down at his suitcases behind him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Uh…no,” he said awkwardly. “Can I bring them in? I just wanted to see you.”

Effie couldn’t help but gulp at his words. “I just wanted to see you.” Nobody had ever said those words to her before – not even her own mother, she thought. Nobody was ever happy to see her in the cult. But in the real world, Matthew was. “Yeah, come in,” she said, moving to remove her hands from his shoulders to give him more space to haul his suitcases into her entrance. He closed the door behind him when he was done, and that’s when the reality snapped back into Effie’s mind. “Oh no!” she exclaimed worriedly.

Matthew automatically got worried too. “Oh no what?”

“You came home early and I—I didn’t make your snickerdoodles!”

A smile automatically appeared on his face. “Effie, it’s okay,” he said softly, slipping off his shoes. “It’s not like I told you I was coming back to Calgary.”

The worried look didn’t leave her face. “Are you sure? I—I didn’t mean to forget. I actually made one batch but I thought they could be better for you so I was going to make another and—”

“Effie,” he said sternly, placing a hand over hers, which had bunched together nervously. “It’s alright. It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” she asked one more time.

“I’m positive,” he squeezed her hands gently. “Just gives me another excuse to come over again in a few days, really.”

A small smile crept on Effie’s face as she realized Matthew wasn’t angry. Usually, when something like this happened, the outcome was much different. She didn’t have to worry about that anymore. “Well come in then, come in,” she said, moving further into her apartment so Matthew could follow her. “D’you want something to drink?” she asked, already opening up her fridge.

“Tell me what you’ve been learning in school,” Matthew said instead, leaning against it. “I want to hear everything I missed.”

Effie couldn’t stop talking after that. They had managed to migrate to her couch and she told him about her courses and teachers and homework and assignments and textbooks and her new computer and the classroom and the building and the campus and the Starbucks on campus and the cafeteria she’d eat in and the vending machine she’d buy snacks from and the bench she’d sit on waiting for class and everything. Everything. There was nothing she didn’t talk about. And he listened to it all, listened to all of it intently, not interrupting once, asking follow-up questions and asking her for more more more more more. He couldn’t get enough. He forgot about his water. He forgot about the homemade Rice Krispie she gave him on a plate on her coffee table. He forgot that he was going to suggest they go out to a Starbucks. He forgot that he hadn’t seen her in months and was so desperate to see her that he came here before he even went to his own apartment. All he could think about was here, and all he could pay attention to was what she was saying.

He wanted it like this all the time.

“How’s therapy going?” he asked, finally remembering his water and taking a quick sip from his glass.

“I’m seeing a sex therapist now too.”

That was a bombshell. Matthew tried not to make it show that he was shocked at the news, but she’d said it so casually – like everyone saw a sex therapist. And, like, a therapist was one thing, but a sex therapist was another. He understood why she’d need one, but it was still a shock to him. “Oh yeah?” he tried to say casually.

Effie nodded her head. “I told Dr. Barlow how we’d been kissing,” she said, biting her lip and blushing slightly. “And, um…well, I told her some other things, so she suggested I see the sex therapist to help fix them.”

Fix them? Matthew had no idea what she meant. He moved slightly closer to her on the couch as he furrowed his brows. “What else did you tell her?” he asked softly. Effie averted his gaze, looking away as if she were embarrassed. “Effie, come on, you can tell me,” he urged.

“Well…when we—do you promise not to freak out at me?”

His heart ached. “Of course.”

“When we started kissing—well, when I started kissing you…I liked it a lot,” she said.

“We were kissing each other,” he said, correcting her, because he knew language was important and the way things were phrased was important and he wanted her to know he was 100% in on it too. He wasn’t exactly innocent. He was a willing accomplice. “I was kissing you too. I liked it a lot too.”

Effie nodded her head. “Well…I liked it a lot. But then we had that talk and you left for St. Louis and we were in a good place. Dr. Barlow told me that was very mature of me, and that she was very impressed. But then…”

“But then…”

Effie kept averting his gaze. “Um…but then, well, you weren’t here, and I started to have dreams of us kissing. I’d lean into you and close my eyes and kiss you. And your lips were soft like I remembered. But then it would change. Quickly. And it would hurt. It—it would hurt. And I’d open my eyes and instead of you, it was…Abraham. And I’d get so scared. I’d wake up screaming.”

Matthew’s heart fell in the pit of his stomach. He felt like he was going to be sick. “I made you feel that way?”

“No! No you didn’t,” she shook her head vehemently. “It was only when you left. When you’re—Matthew, no,” her words were jumbled because she had started crying. “When we kissed, I liked it. I liked it so much. But my mind was playing tricks on me.”

“Effie, if I hurt you—”

“You didn’t. You didn’t hurt me at all,” she pressed, her hand extending automatically to grab at his forearm comfortingly. “You could never hurt me Matthew. Ever. I just…” her voice had gotten softer, frailer, more like it had been in January. “I still see him sometimes.”

If Matthew’s heart had fallen into the pit of his stomach before, then now it had just shattered into a billion pieces. “Oh, Effie…” he barely got out.

“I don’t want to see him ever again,” she said.

“C’mere,” he said softly, pulling her body towards his so he could hug her. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and could feel Effie melt into him, her head cradled on his chest. He wanted her to feel as safe as possible with him – he’d wanted that since the beginning. With this new revelation, he now wanted it more than ever. “You’ll never see him again, Effie. I promise you.”

“I know I won’t. I know. This is happening because of what happened to me.”

“When he would hurt you.”

Effie looked up at him, nodding, almost embarrassingly. “I know that he can’t hurt me anymore. But my dreams would take me back to when he did. It wasn’t you, Matthew. You didn’t make me feel that way. I told Dr. Barlow and Dr. Stevenson that. They’re just trying to help me not see him anymore, and move past the things that he did to me. And they’re…they’re trying not to make me feel guilty about something so simple like kissing.”

“You felt guilty about us kissing?” he asked.

“Women couldn’t date, right? So it wasn’t like I was kissing any of the other boys in the cult. We were harlots and sinners if we kissed men, and we were responsible for them straying away from God. My first kiss was on my fake wedding day.”

Matthew could kill them all. He had half the heart to jump into his car and drive to Sheerness so that he could. “I will give you as many kisses as you want if it helps you forget,” he blurted out.

Effie couldn’t help but smile. “Can we start again now? Slowly?”

Matthew smiled slightly. She craned her head up and placed one of her signature chaste kisses on his lips, and he reciprocated readily, the feeling of her lips on his after months of not having them there ranking up there with the best feeling in the world. When she pulled away, her eyes were still closed, but there was a smile on her face. Her prior tears had stained her cheeks. “Hugging you feels nice too,” Effie said, finally opening her eyes.

Matthew smiled. “Well then we’ll start doing a lot of that too.”

***

At the beginning of every hockey season, right before training camp, the Calgary Flames hosted a gala to benefit the Calgary Flames Foundation. The team would set a fundraising goal for the night – often surpassed – and then set one for the season – also surpassed – to give back to the city and community that supported them endlessly, through thick and thin. The gala was unofficially the kickoff to the season. Every member of the team, coaching staff, and head office attended. It was one of Calgary’s biggest events. It was the one night of the year Matthew didn’t mind being out and having to small-talk with hundreds of strangers, because he knew it was all for a good cause and a greater good.

Matthew was forced to wear a tuxedo. All the members of the team were forced to wear tuxedos. He kept fiddling with his bowtie and Mark kept slapping his hand away. Matthew thought they all looked like penguins. He searched around the gala room, already filling up with people. He took his phone out of his pocket.

You guys here yet? he texted Geneviève, knowing that since Elias and Jacob were already here, she and Annica were coming together.

We’re in a taxi. Eyeliner needed to be reapplied because Effie kept crying.

Matthew chuckled to himself, picturing the image of Effie sitting in a chair while Annica and Geneviève fussed over her makeup. Before he could text her back, another text from her came through.

She looks beautiful, by the way.

Matthew was impatient. He kept looking towards the doors even though he was supposed to be pretending to be interested in what these rich people had to say. Levi and Jenna were already there, too, so it really was just him waiting for Effie to arrive. This entire night didn’t start until Effie arrived.

Matthew was in a conversation with someone when he saw her walk through the doors. Annica was wearing a navy blue bodycon dress that showed off her curves, and she looked great. Geneviève was wearing an emerald green midi-length dress with a high slit, high collar, back cut-out, and cap sleeves, and she looked impeccably chic and stylish, like only Geneviève could.

But it was Effie, of course, who looked the best. A bright red dress that fell to her knees, with floral lace and sequins and cape sleeves that covered her otherwise bare arms. She wore a pair of low nude heels, and her blonde bob was styled professionally as a barely-there curl. She looked impeccable. Beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous. Divine. Exquisite.

“Excuse me,” he said quickly to the man and wife he was talking to, and left Elias alone with them as he made his way through the crowd and towards Effie, Annica, and Geneviève. He pushed past some people gently before finally appearing in front of them. He could see Geneviève smirking the second they saw him, but he locked eyes with Effie. When she saw him in his tux, her breath hitched in her throat. He looked good. “Hi,” he said to Effie breathlessly.

Annica saw the look in his eyes and knew she had to skedaddle out of there. “Where’s Elias?”

“Over there,” Matthew pointed behind him, somewhere in the crowd of four hundred people, as if that answered the question and helped her.

“Thanks,” she left, winking at him as she passed him.

Geneviève was next. “I guess my husband is in the same place?” she asked him.

“Mhm,” he nodded his head quickly.

“Great. You two behave. If I don’t see you, I’ll assume you’re in a broom closet,” she said before disappearing into the crowd of people.

Matthew and Effie hadn’t taken their eyes off each other. Effie thought he looked great in his tux; it was tailored to perfection, and really showed off how thick his body was, but in a good way. She’d felt it when they hugged when he showed up to her place after landing in Calgary, and if she was being honest with herself, she had been thinking about it ever since. She kept thinking about being physical with him, about touching him and hugging and cuddling and doing all the things she couldn’t have done with another man before. And she only wanted to do them with Matthew. Her mind – and now increasingly her body – wanted to do that only with Matthew. With the dress and the makeup and the whole look all together, Matthew was a man possessed. With Geneviève and Annica gone, Matthew couldn’t help but bite his bottom lip to suppress himself from smiling bashfully, like he usually did with Effie. “You look beautiful, Effie,” he said softly.

“Thanks,” she smiled. “This is the second dress I’ve ever worn that has shown off my legs. It’s Geneviève’s. And – if you can believe it – this is the first time I’ve word something red.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. From her hair to her makeup to her dress to her shoes, he just couldn’t fucking take it anymore. He looked around the room quickly before grabbing her hand. “Come with me,” he mumbled.

“Where are we going?”

He dragged her out of the room and into the foyer. There were more people out there, sipping on cocktails and eating hors d’oeuvres and getting checked in, so he kept walking with her behind him down the long foyer that connected all the different hall rooms in the complex together. When it got quieter, and the rush of people were too far away, he led her into a short corridor where a men’s and women’s washroom was. They were far enough away that he knew no-one from the gala would find them.

“Matthew? Is everything okay?” she asked as she watched him close the door behind them.

“Everything’s fine,” he said, his voice strained. “I just…God, Effie, you look so fucking beautiful.”

Effie could pick up on the strain in his voice. She could also see the fire in his eyes as he looked down at her. She didn’t know much about the world, and she knew even less about men, but those things alone were telling her something. Her body was telling her something too, something she’d never heard from it before. Instead of being repulsed by the body in front of her, she was drawn to it. Instead of being scared to touch it, she wanted to feel it all over her. Instead of allowing her mind to take her somewhere else so she didn’t have to focus on pain on hurt or anything else, she wanted to be in the moment and feel everything. “Kiss me, Matthew,” she said. She’d never been so bold in her entire life. She didn’t think she had it in her.

Matthew didn’t need to be told twice. He held her face between his hands, dipped his head, and began kissing her passionately. Effie loved it. It wasn’t a chaste kiss like the kisses they had shared in the past. This kiss was hungry, and told her almost everything she needed to know about Matthew’s feelings.

Her feelings were similar. She wanted to explore them. She wanted to do more.

That was why, when it was Effie who slid her tongue along Matthew’s lips, he stopped in shock. Not that he wanted to – the action was just surprising. He pulled away slightly, making sure it was something she wanted to do. When he saw her open her eyes slowly, she was bringing her hands up, placing them over his. “You can touch me, Matthew,” her voice was barely above a whisper.

He let out a shaky breath. He knew they weren’t exactly gonna hook up in the bathroom or anything, but this was still huge, especially for Effie. “Are you sure?” he asked.

She nodded her head. “You won’t hurt me.”

He dipped down and kissed her again. And he kept kissing her, letting his hands wander to her waist and hips, where he gripped them and pulled them closer to his body. And she kept kissing him, letting her hands wander down his chest and under his tuxedo jacket to his back, feeling the thickness of his body. And for at least a few minutes, they were in their own little world, kissing in the men’s bathroom of a banquet hall, hands all over each other as Matthew probably got lipstick all over his mouth.

Effie was loving it. The feeling of his soft lips on hers was unlike anything she’d ever felt, and his tongue in her mouth, tasting slightly of the alcohol he’d drunk before she got there, was intoxicating to say the least. She felt like it could go on forever. She was pretty sure she would let it go on forever if she could. She was happy, so happy that she was doing this – that she could do this. Two years ago, if she’d even thought about it, she would have been scared of being damned to hell for eternity. Now, she was enjoying it. Now, she wanted to do it all the time. Now, she could—

She could—

She—

Now, it hurt a little.

Now, the lips weren’t as soft.

Now, she could feel a prickly, unkept beard scraping at her skin—

“STOP,” she instinctively pushed the body away, scrunching her face and gulping hard. Before she could see Abraham’s face – before it could appear to her in her mind – she opened her eyes and looked at Matthew.

Matthew.

She saw him staring back at her worriedly and she let out a shaky breath. He knew why she stopped; he didn’t need to be told. “I’m—I’m so—”

“Hey hey, it’s okay,” he said soothingly. “It’s alright, Effie. We can stop.”

She diverted her eyes from looking at him. She was so embarrassed. “You won’t be mad?” she asked. That was usually how it went for, well…

Matthew put his hand under her chin so he could look her in the eye. “No,” he said, with as much conviction as he could muster. “We can stop whenever you want.”

“I’m so—”

“Do not apologize to me,” he said sternly. She didn’t need to. He needed her to know that. “Never apologize to me for that.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Thank you for stopping.”

“There’s no way in hell I’d keep going.”

Effie nodded. She understood. “At least I’m getting better,” she said. “I didn’t give you a black eye this time.”

Matthew couldn’t help but snort. It released all the tension in the air immediately; even Effie was giggling slightly. “That you did not,” he said, grabbing her hand slightly. “Wanna go back out there? Well, after we get all this lipstick off of me.”

***

The gala was nice. It was formal and the food was decent and even though Matthew basically kept his eye on Effie sitting with Levi and Jenna the entire night, it was nice. He had fun with his teammates. He embarrassed himself on stage for charity. At the silent auction, one of his packages with signed memorabilia went for the second-highest bid. He was proud of what he and the team were able to accomplish in terms of giving back to the community.

But now he had more important things on his mind.

By the time he found Effie again, she was standing in a group with Levi and Jenna, Jacob and Geneviève, and Annica and Elias. It looked like they were chatting about something exciting, so Matthew knew he needed to be there. When Geneviève saw him butt his way in, she smiled. “I was just reminiscing about when Jacob and I met, and how my friends and I went to the pubs in Oxford after our graduation in our robes and Tudor bonnets,” she said, filling him in. “There’s nothing better than showing up to a place severely overdressed and then having the time of your life dancing.”

Matthew looked at Geneviève in her dress. He looked at Annica in hers, and Effie in hers, and Jenna in hers. He looked to his teammates in his tuxedos, and to Levi wearing a form-fitted navy suit. “Wanna go dancing?”

Elias smirked. “The night’s still young.”

***

They ended up at a bar downtown, one that Matthew had been to before but couldn’t really remember exactly what happened (it was his first year in Calgary and he’d just found out hours before that the legal drinking age was only eighteen). The bouncer looked at them all weirdly in their getups but let them in anyway. It was only when they entered that they realized it was frosh week for the University of Calgary, and the bar was full of university students drinking and dancing. The floor was slightly sticky. It was the perfect venue for the goal they wanted to achieve.

“Oh, this takes me back,” Geneviève giggled, looking out at the sea of people. She looked at Annica and Jenna. “Spicy margs?”

Both women nodded. “Spicy margs.”

She looked at Effie. “Have you ever had alcohol?”

“No.”

“Do you want to try it while you’re safe with us?”

Effie nodded.

Geneviève, Effie, and Matthew headed to the bar while the rest of the group went to find a bar table to take over. Matthew made sure Effie got a spot right at the front as he stood directly behind her, his body pressed against hers. Geneviève waved down the bartenders and ordered all the drinks. All the university students clamouring to get a spot at the bar and the attention of the bartenders looked at them weird for their too-fancy clothes. Geneviève didn’t care – it wasn’t like this was her first time doing this. Effie was a little self-conscious, but that soon went away when she saw the drinks being made in front of her.

“Whenever you go out to a bar like this, you always want the bartender to make your drink in front of you. Don’t ever accept a drink from a stranger or if you haven’t seen it made in front of you,” Geneviève cautioned her.

“Okay,” Effie nodded. “What happens if I don’t like the spicy margarita though?”

“Then we’ll get you another drink.”

Once all the drinks were made, they were brought back to the bar table the rest of the group managed to find and everyone began drinking. Effie liked her spicy margarita. Matthew let her take a sip of his beer but she didn’t like that too much. She ordered another spicy margarita. Her body began to feel tingly because of the tequila. The music started to get progressively louder, too, the bass making the floor vibrate. Effie looked out onto the dance floor to see a bunch of people her age dancing – grinding, as Matthew called it at Andrew’s birthday many months ago. She watched them intently, while they were having the time of their lives.

“You okay?” Matthew asked, bending down to ask as she was looking out at the crowd.

“I want to dance but I don’t know how to,” she revealed. “I’m just…looking to see what everyone else is doing. I wouldn’t be comfortable with that grinding.”

Matthew couldn’t help but smile. “Nobody knows how to dance, Effie. We all just move our bodies to the beat of the music.”

The song changed suddenly and it made Geneviève scream at the top of her lungs in excitement. Effie watched as she grabbed her drink and Jacob’s hand and dragged him towards the dance floor as they began to dance together. Levi and Jenna followed, and so did Annica and Elias. The couples weren’t grinding like the university students, but instead danced facing each other, holding hands or swaying back and forth, holding their drinks it their hands and raising them up in the air, miraculously not spilling a thing. She and Matthew were the only ones left at the bar table. “This was their wedding song, I think,” Matthew explained, watching Effie watch Jacob and Geneviève dancing.

“What’s it called?”

“I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston.”

“Levi hasn’t introduced me to that one.”

“Levi isn’t the type to listen to Whitney Houston.”

Effie continued to watch them dance, Geneviève singing the lyrics to Jacob at the top of her lungs. They were so in love with each other, even she could see it, and she barely knew what healthy love was. A part of her wondered what made them love each other so much, and another part of her wondered if she should ask. Was it rude to ask something like that?

“D’you want to dance, Effie?” Matthew asked.

Effie looked up at him. “Do you think people will laugh at me because I don’t know how?”

He shook his head. “There’s so many people and they’re all so drunk, they won’t even notice you.”

She gripped her margarita tighter. There was something to be said about overcoming fears ever since she left the cult, and this could be classified as one of them. But she wasn’t like these university students who were moving their bodies so freely and easily. She was much more restrained – with everything really – but she wanted to actively work to move away from that. Conquer her fears. Do what she needed to do to shed herself from the past. So she nodded her head. “Let’s go.”

Matthew grabbed her hand and led her on to the dance floor, moving his body to the song with his beer still in his hand, doing his best not to spill it everywhere, but especially not on Effie wearing Geneviève’s expensive red dress. Effie watched, moving her feet back and forth awkwardly. She looked up at Matthew for reassurance, only to see him already smiling at her. “You got it, you got it,” he said, moving his feet in a similar way.

“What do I do with my hands?” she asked.

“Just throw ‘em up!” he showed her. She did the same movements, but she couldn’t step or move with the beat of the music. Matthew could tell she was nervous. “Just move your body, Effie. Move it however you want. Doesn’t need to be on beat.”

Effie closed her eyes, trying to get the feel of the song in her, but she lost her groove because it soon ended and another began. This one was even more upbeat – well, it had a better beat – and Effie began to move again.

Feel buried alive This city is airtight Suffocated and lonely in the crowd I'm surrounded by All the screens of their life Screaming in to space to drown them out

Effie not only began to move her feet and hands, but she tried swaying her hips a bit. She liked this beat. She loved this beat. She lost herself completely in it, dancing with no inhibitions. Matthew watched as she let loose, moving her body in tune with the music. Her dancing was unlike anyone else’s around her, and the only thing he wanted to was copy her. It looked a bit ridiculous, but it didn’t matter to Matthew. He’d made himself look more ridiculous than this before. This was nothing.

I felt down so low Found nowhere to go But I know you wait for me You wait for me So far out of sight Straight into the white But I know you wait for me I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight

Effie opened her eyes to see Matthew. Matthew, who would wait for her. Matthew, who had waited for her.

'Cause I've been hypnotized by the lights But I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight Yeah, it's taken time to realize But I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight

“Go Effie! Go Effie!” Annica chanted, coming up beside them with Elias, grooving to the beat of the music. Annica watched Effie moving and followed her movements too – albeit more fluidly – and when Effie looked up and saw Annica, a giant smile took over her face. Annica screamed in excitement and cheered their drinks together before moving with her, beside Matthew, letting him get closest to her.

So hold me tight I just wanna fade out Somewhere we can ship the world away I'm ready to hide Far from the fallout They won't find us in the paradise we'll make

“Woooooooo! You go girl! Get loose!” Geneviève screamed from her other side, approaching them with Jacob beside her who was doing a modified version of the robot. Matthew watched as Effie closed her eyes, going into her own little world, raising her arms and bopping her body to the music. It was the happiest and most carefree he’d ever seen her. He vowed right then and there to take her dancing whenever she wanted to go so she could feel this same way.

I felt down so low Found nowhere to go But I know you wait for me You wait for me So far out of sight Straight into the white But I know you wait for me I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight

Effie was feeling it. She loved it. She loved this. She loved the people she was surrounded by. If this was love, she wanted to feel it all the time.

'Cause I've been hypnotized by the lights But I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight Yeah, it's taken time to realize But I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight

When she opened her eyes again, she saw everyone dancing around her. She stepped closer to Matthew, almost so close that she could feel his body against hers. They moved together to the climax of the song, Matthew looking down at her and smiling.

Free falling from the high I'm following the voice I know Free falling from the high I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight

In his tuxedo and in her frilly red dress with cape sleeves, surrounded by people. it felt like they were the only ones in the world.

***

“I think I can live a normal life with him,” Effie told Dr. Barlow as she sat in her usual seat in the office, looking down at her hands. She’d already been talking for almost an hour during her session, but she felt the need to get that statement out. Dr. Barlow had the right to know.

“With Matthew?” Dr. Barlow clarified.

Effie nodded her head. Who else would she be talking about? “He’s never once made me feel uncomfortable or unsafe or…like…ashamed of what I went through,” she elaborated.

“That’s a very positive thing,” Dr. Barlow said, her voice steady. “It’s good that you’re thinking about these things, Effie. You’re thinking about your future. You actually see a future for yourself. But how normal do you think a friendship or perhaps even a life with a hockey player can be?” she asked.

Effie shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I barely understand hockey as it is.”

“Well, hockey players don’t exactly live the most conventional of lifestyles. They travel a lot, as I’m sure you know since Levi travels with the team.”

“Yeah…” Effie didn’t know where Dr. Barlow was going with this. “That’s…that’s not the biggest deal to me.”

Dr. Barlow nodded her head, writing something down on her pad of paper. “Have you continued to kiss him since he’s come back?” Effie nodded. “Regularly?”

“Semi-regularly.”

“Have you told Dr. Stevenson?” she asked. Effie nodded again. “Do you still envision Abraham sometimes?”

Effie hesitated before nodding her head. She knew she couldn’t lie. “It’s been getting better though. We kissed for a couple of minutes once before I, um, felt Abraham’s beard. And when he stopped, he didn’t get mad at all. I means it’s progress from when he brushed up against me in bed and I gave him a black eye,” she tried to joke.

Dr. Barlow apparently didn’t find it funny like Matthew had. She just nodded again and wrote on her note pad. “You should tell Dr. Stevenson about that.”

***

“I made another pint of maple pecan ice cream,” Effie told Levi as she handed him a Tupperware full of white chocolate macadamia nut cookies. They were mostly for Jenna – she was craving them. Jenna had been craving a lot of things lately, ever since Effie got her own mixer, anyway. Effie had been experimenting making ice cream. The café was pleased about this as well. The owner was already looking to invest in ice cream storage to be able to serve it. “I’ve found a real gem in you, Effie,” the owner would repeat over and over again to her. Matthew had to stop himself constantly from getting a third bowl on nights he’d come over. He’d tap at his stomach and say “I can’t” but when he’d go and put his bowl in the sink, she’d always see him hesitate before he did so. “Do you want it?”

“Please,” he begged his sister. She moved to open her freezer. “I swear Effie, the best thing Matthew’s ever done was get you that KitchenAid. I’ve been gaining weight ever since.”

Effie smiled. “At least you’re not the hockey player that has to stay in peak physical condition. Matthew’s been complaining that I’m making him pudgy.”

“Thank God.”

“Speaking of…” she began, handing him the pint of ice cream. “Do you think you can teach me about hockey?”

“You mean like the rules and stuff?”

“Yeah. You know, like what’s going on out there whenever I’m at games.”

“Okay,” he nodded, shrugging his shoulder slightly. “Any reason?”

“If I’m going to be surrounded by hockey because of you, then I should learn it, shouldn’t I?” Effie asked rhetorically.

“Sure,” he side-eyed his sister playfully. “But does this have anything to do with Matthew?”

“What if it does?”

Levi smiled. He knew there was something going on between the two of them, regardless of whether or not they wanted to tell him. He liked Matthew, he knew he was a good kid, so it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She could have hooked up with someone way worse. Actually, she could have gone the opposite route of where she currently was (which many former cult members went), which was becoming a hypersexual after being sexually repressed for so many years. Effie was taking her time with it, and that was fine, but if her friendship…or relationship, or whatever she had going on with Matthew was any indication, Levi figured Effie was thinking about it. “I don’t care, Effie. It’s kind of cute, actually.”

“So you’ll teach me?”

“Of course. I’ll have you screaming at the referees in no time.”

***

“So Levi’s teaching me about hockey,” Effie said as she marinated chicken in her kitchen, her phone call with Matthew on speakerphone as she moved around and got her hands dirty.

“He is?”

“Mhm. By the time the home opener comes around, I’ll be able to understand what’s going on,” she revealed.

“I better get you a Tkachuk jersey then.”

Effie smiled bashfully, even though he couldn’t see it. “You don’t want me wearing a Markstrom one like last time?” she joked.

“Effie.”

***

Effie was nervous as she sat in Dr. Stevenson’s office. Not because she was scared, or because she wasn’t a good sex therapist, or because of anything like that. She was nervous to admit to her the thoughts she’d been having about Matthew, even though she knew Dr. Stevenson wouldn’t judge her at all and that it was his job to help her. Help her make peace with these thoughts; help her realize they were completely normal and okay; help her act on them, eventually, in a healthy way. Dr. Stevenson already knew about Matthew – she knew about him from Effie’s very first day.

“My mind may not be ready but my body is physically attracted to him. I don’t know how to…you know, mend the two so that both are on the same page,” Effie admitted after almost an hour. “I want to be with him. I do. I know he won’t hurt me – that he’d never hurt me.”

Dr. Stevenson nodded. “When you were in the People’s Dominion of Christ, there was a huge power imbalance between Abraham, being the prophet and leader, and the followers – you,” Dr. Stevenson began to explain. “This imbalance made it impossible for you to give true consent to sex.”

Effie’s body stiffened. Consent. Geneviève had taught her that term early on. Consent was giving permission for something to happen. Effie had never given her consent to marry Abraham. She’d never given Abraham consent to consummate their marriage. She’d never given Abraham consent to touch her, stroke her, do anything to her. She’d surely never given him consent to impregnate her. “Okay…that makes sense. But I didn’t know I had to give consent. I thought that men could do whatever they wanted with my body. Especially Abraham, since he was the prophet.”

“The institutionalized sexism in the cult is nothing I haven’t heard before. Many victims like yourself have said the exact same thing to me,” Dr. Stevenson said. “You are not alone. There are many people like you, unfortunately. When females are not equally valued because of misogyny, because of outdated traditional gender roles that are disempowering, it makes women like you experience sexual inequality and become more susceptible to leaders who will exploit you.”

“So how do I get it back?”

“Get what back?”

“My agency. My…my…” Effie began to tear up, thinking about all the things she had to endure at the hands of Abraham – literally and metaphorically. “How do I get my mind back? My body is finally mine, and I can do what I want with it, but I don’t feel like I have my mind back yet if I’m kissing Matthew but then all of a sudden I remember the feeling of Abraham’s beard or that I can’t sit or lie at the foot of a bed because that’s where…”

Dr. Stevenson took a deep breath. “One way to do so is to embrace, appreciate, and celebrate your sexual self. That is what I am trying to help you do here. You need to understand that your capacity for pleasure is not a luxury, and it is not shameful either. It is a necessity for a well-balanced and emotionally happy life. As a woman – as a survivor of sexual abuse, of rape – you should take a stand for your own sexual healing and embrace sexual pleasure as something that will help heal you.”

Effie nodded her head, more tears escaping her now, but she understood. She knew what she needed to do, and the mental shift she needed to go through. Touching could be pleasurable for the woman. Sex could be pleasurable for the woman. Not everything had to hurt. Not everything had to come with pain.

“I’m not saying this is going to happen tomorrow for you, Effie,” Dr. Stevenson continued. “I’m not saying it’ll happen next month, or year. It happens quickly for some, and for others it can take years. Everybody has their own timeline – you included. You have to remember that your trauma comes with complex PTSD. If you set goals for yourself, like you already have been doing, with a person you are comfortable with – Matthew – your sexual self will grow with your physical self and your mental self. When those three parts of you are aligned, they will all grow stronger, and make you stronger.”

Effie kept nodding. The words were permeating through her like lightning. “I’m going to try. I’m really going to try.”

“Just stop when you need to stop. Go when you want to go. You’ll get there, Effie.”

***

“Did you learn about gay people in the cult?” Matthew asked as he prepared Brokeback Mountain on the TV while Effie finished pouring the popcorn into the bowl.

“Not in a good way, if that’s what you’re really asking,” she said from the kitchen. “You know the stupid Bible verse. The prophet called it an abomination. But it was one of the first things that Levi and Jenna taught out of me when I first went to live with them, because Jenna’s brother is gay and has a husband and two kids. Levi didn’t want me to be shocked if I ever saw them.”

Matthew didn’t know that about Jenna. But he nodded his head and watched Effie bring the bowl of popcorn over. “Have you met them?”

Effie nodded. “They came over a few months after I arrived. They were so incredibly kind,” she explained. She handed the popcorn bowl to Matthew to take before folding her leg and collapsing onto the couch beside him, facing him. “It really…it really messed with me. I mean, it’s not like I wanted to think that way. It was what I was conditioned to think. I didn’t know better. And I felt so bad, because I knew they knew, but they were so understanding. From the moment they walked through the door they were so nice and they didn’t hold it against me,” she explained.

Matthew could only listen. And though he listened through her entire explanation, he was hung up on one thing. “You should stop calling him the prophet,” he said suddenly, not really thinking it through but needing to get it out. “He wasn’t a prophet. He wasn’t even your husband. He was just some guy.”

Effie looked stunned by what he was saying. She’d never considered that before. She was so used to calling him the prophet that the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind – ever. “You’re right,” she said, unable to say anything else. It was such a simple sentiment but it held so much power. “I…you’re right, Matthew.”

He smiled slightly. “Wanna start the movie?”

Effie nodded. Matthew extended his arm to move the bowl to the side, and his other arm moved upwards slightly, signalling to Effie that it was already to cuddle. She moved closer to him, snuggling into his side and letting both legs drape over his thigh. Only then did he let his arm down, draping it over her back. Effie looked up at him. “Is that okay?” she asked.

“It’s perfect,” he whispered, placing the bowl of popcorn between their bodies so they had equal access to it. “You comfortable?”

“Mhm.”

“Effie, are you comfortable?” he repeated.

She knew why he was repeating himself. She looked up at him and smiled. “The comfiest I’ve ever been.”

Matthew pressed play. From that moment, Effie’s eyes were glued to the screen, hooked on the love story unfolding in front of her. For Matthew, he was more hooked on watching her than the movie, but he kept up slightly. At some point during the movie – Matthew didn’t pay attention when – Effie’s hand settled on his abs, and it was all he could think about for the rest of the night. He was acutely aware of its placement. Then, the sadder scenes started happening, and he’d feel the hand grip his t-shirt, and his body would seize up. She’d soften it, but then grip again when something emotional would happen. Then the scene where Ennis visits Jack’s parents after his death occurred, and Ennis was let into Jack’s childhood bedroom and found his old shirt. Matthew watched as Ennis smelled it and clutched it against his chest.

Then he heard Effie let out a sob.

She gripped him tighter than she ever had. He tightened his hold on her too, shifting slightly and letting his shirt ride up against the couch, just so she could cuddle into him even more than she already was. He could feel her hand on his skin now, gripping at his side tenderly as the tears still rolled down her face. He took the opportunity to place his hand in the small sliver of space where her shirt had ridden up too, squeezing and massaging it gently to comfort her. “Y’okay?” his voice was barely above a whisper.

She didn’t respond. Her eyes were glued to the TV. As the movie continued, Matthew left his hand exactly where it was, and Effie left her hand exactly where it was. Holding each other. Clutching each other.

When the movie ended, Effie didn’t move for a long time. Not even when the credits began rolling on the screen. “Are you okay, Effie?” Matthew repeated his question from earlier, albeit a bit louder and more pronounced this time.

“I think my heart is broken,” she finally let out, bringing the hand that was squeezing his side to her face so she could wipe her tears away. “That was beautiful. Beautiful.”

“It was,” Matthew agreed. It was very obvious the movie was affecting her a lot.

Effie moved so she could look up at Matthew, craning her head and bringing her hand up to cradle his face so she could kiss him. When their lips connected, Matthew could feel the wetness of her cheeks. “I can’t believe I was ever scared of that,” she whispered against his lips when she pulled away.

“Doesn’t matter. What matters is what you think now.”

Effie nodded. He always knew the right things to say. He was helping her change her past and way of thinking one way or another. “I think I want to kiss you again.”

Matthew kissed her. And even as the credits finished, neither of them would let go of the other.

***

The Calgary Flames home opener at the Saddledome had Effie buzzing with excitement. She wore a brand new pair of jeans for the occasion, and arrived at the game with Jenna, Annica, and Geneviève. As was normal for them, Annica was wearing her tried and true Lindholm jersey, while Geneviève was sporting a Markstrom one. Jenna wore Levi’s old Iginla jersey.

Effie had Tkachuk sprawled across her back.

“Do you want to go down near the ice and wave?” Annica asked, and Effie nodded her head. “It might get a big crowded, so stay near me.”

The ladies descended down the steps, joining the pretty big crowd that had formed against the glass beside Jacob’s net. A bunch of kids were up against the glass with homemade signs, their parents near them taking pictures. Some men around Effie’s age were there too, drinking beers with their jerseys on and taking videos on their phones. Other girls her age were there too, taking pictures of all the players. “Can you see Matthew?” Geneviève asked as she looked down at Effie.

“He’s over there,” she smiled, pointing at Matthew across the ice. He was practicing his stickhandling, in such deep concentration that he didn’t look up for a while. When he finally did look up, happy with his stickhandling, he began skating around the ice, bumping into Noah and Andrew along the way.

Effie waved excitedly.

Matthew stopped when he saw her. Even though there was glass streaked with puck shots and some distance between them, she could see him smile from ear to ear, his mouth guard hanging out. He waved back, his hockey glove looking like a giant bear claw.

“God you two are insufferable,” Geneviève said jokingly.

Matthew continued to skate around, shooting the puck at the net, each of them going in. Geneviève noticed all of his glances back at them, and the small smile constantly on his face as he went about his drills. When the practice was almost over, she kept an eye intently on him, watching as he skated over. She knew what he wanted to go. “Go closer,” she said to Effie, urging her with a little nudge.

Effie took her cue and stepped down, closer to the glass. Matthew had flipped a puck over the glass towards a kid with a sign for him. Now, as Effie watched, he pointed to her and made sure everyone around knew who he was pointing to. She turned around slightly, pointing to his name on her back. He smiled wide and flipped another puck, perfectly, right into her hands.

Geneviève watched as the young women around them eyed Effie suspiciously.

***

“Matthew!” Effie squealed once he finally emerged from the locker room, his suit back on and his tie tied loosely around his neck. She hugged him excitedly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he reciprocated. “Great game!”

“Thanks, Effie.”

“And your goal!” she continued. Now that she actually understood hockey, and now that she wasn’t scared about every little thing around her at the arena, she could actually enjoy the experience and know what was going on. “What a great goal!”

He had the puck in his pocket, and had planned to give it to her, but right now his mind was elsewhere. Seeing her in his jersey at the beginning of the game did things to him, and although he was able to focus throughout the sixty minutes, now that he saw her again with his name sprawled across her back, his mind was right where it was the moment he first saw her that night. “Wanna come over mine and watch a movie?” he asked, his voice low so no-one else would hear.

To his complete surprise, Effie nodded her head immediately. “Of course.”

They left inconspicuously without saying goodbye to anyone.

***

Effie broke down during the first scene.

Matthew had changed out of his suit and into a sweater and track pants, and Effie had taken off the jersey and hung it up in his front closet. They cuddled on the couch together, exactly as they’d done when they watched Brokeback Mountain, and Matthew pressed play on Netflix. The first scene was the main character, Esty, packing up her most valuable belongings, including a small picture of her grandmother, and running away from her Hasidic community. All before the opening credits. When the show’s opening played, he heard Effie let out a loud sob.

“Hey hey hey,” he cooed, watching as she brought her hand up to cover her mouth to try and control herself, but there was no use. Tears were streaming down her face. “It’s alright, it’s alright.”

“It’s me,” she said softly, through tears. “It’s me.”

“C’mere,” he said, pulling her even closer against his body, if that was possible. Every inch of her was touching him now, with his arms wrapped tightly around her, and he hoped that brought her at least some reprieve. She was wiping her face with her hands, and he could see her chest heaving, though he could tell she was taking deep breaths to calm herself down. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. “We can stop it or watch so—”

“No,” she interjected sternly, looking up at him. “I can do this.”

“I know you can Effie, but—”

“No buts. I can watch this,” she was adamant.

Matthew lost. He knew he would. He bit his bottom lip and nodded his head. “Will you promise to tell me if it becomes too much?”

Effie nodded. She snuck her hand underneath his sweater to feel his skin again, and she – surprisingly – game him a quick peck before laying her head on his chest again. “Press play.”

Matthew kissed her forehead, then the crown of her head, then laid his cheek there before pressing play.

Effie broke down again less than ten minutes later, when the grandmother was listening to an old German song, An Die Musik sung by Elisabeth Scwartzkopf. And again, when Yanky was searching her childhood bedroom and found her personal items and her music. The last scene she cried to was near the end, when Esty’s biological mother showed up and gave her documents to prove German citizenship “just in case you need somewhere else to go”. When the episode ended, Effie was shedding her last tears. Matthew paused Netflix before the episode could switch over. “You okay?”

Effie nodded, despite her tears. “I know it’s different religions, but a lot of things were just, like, so similar,” she explained. “The…the beginning brought me back.”

“I can only imagine,” Matthew whispered.

“The grandmother crying listening to that beautiful song. Esty’s music. Her mom still looking out for her despite abandoning her. It all just…it all just really hit home.” Matthew nodded. It was the only thing he could do. If Effie wanted to elaborate, she could, but he wasn’t going to force her. Instead, he shifted her body so she was sitting more in his lap as opposed to right beside him. She steadied her breathing, and her tears had stopped. “When I went to live with the proph—Abraham, as his wife,” she began, “he made me leave everything at home besides my clothes. I couldn’t see my favourite things unless I was visiting, and even then, I’d never be alone in my room for more than two minutes because he knew I’d be reminiscing, and he said it was a sin to dwell on my past life when I should have been looking forward to my future as his wife and as a mother to his son of God.” She paused, biting her bottom lip; Matthew could tell she was remembering it all vividly in her mind. “After a year my mom threw out all my things anyway. Because she agreed with him.”

“What did you have? What were your things?” he asked, sad and angry and disturbed all at once.

“Just simple things. Nothing special,” she said. “My…my own Bible that I’d been using since I was a kid. A journal I had where I recorded my favourite verses. A doll I had when I was a kid that another member made for me. Just stupid things.”

“They’re not stupid things if they were special for you,” Matthew said. “I can’t believe your mom threw them all out. My mom has kept my kindergarten paintings.”

Effie smiled slightly. “That’s because you have a good mom who knows how to be a mother.”

Matthew digressed. Effie obviously hadn’t meant Chantal yet, but Matthew talked about her enough that Effie knew a lot about her. “I know I keep saying this, but you’re so strong, Effie.”

“It’s a lot to overcome,” she whispered, nodding her head. They sat for a while in comfortable silence, just being with each other. Matthew’s arms were still wrapped around her. Effie was still in hip lap, looking at him. “Will you kiss me, Matthew?”

Matthew smiled slightly before dipping his head down and capturing her lips in a kiss. It wasn’t long before – once again – Effie took the initiative to slip her tongue into his mouth. There was kissing – so much kissing – and Matthew took it upon himself to start to lay Effie down on the couch, his body looming over hers slightly and—

“Stop,” Effie said, her hands on his chest, pushing him off her slightly. Matthew immediately stopped and moved away from her. Her chest heaved up and down once before she pushed herself up. “I’m sorry.”

“Never apologize,” he said. “Did you see him again?”

Effie didn’t answer. “I think it happened because we laid down,” she said, her lips puffy from all the kissing.

Matthew was catching his breath. He was thankful that he was wearing track pants or else Effie would see how…excited he’d become. “How about you stay on top then?”

She furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

“We—we can stay upright,” Matthew explained. “You can sit on my lap if you want…facing me. Or you could just…you know, like, sit…” he was losing his words.

Effie looked confused. Nervous. Like she didn’t know what to think. Like she was picturing the scenario in her head and couldn’t really make sense of any of it. “W—Women are allowed to do that?” she asked softly. Matthew couldn’t speak; he could only stare at her flabbergasted. He nodded his head slightly, and Effie thought about it. How women could be ‘on top’. What that would look like. What that would entail. “C…Can you—can you show…” she was too embarrassed to even be asking.

“C’mere,” he said, extending his hand. She put her hand in his and he pulled her towards him. “Put your one leg over here,” he said, patting to the space on the other side of him. She did so slowly. “And your other leg goes here,” he explained, and she did the same movement, “and now you can just sit on my lap.”

Effie took a deep breath as she lowered herself down until she could feel his thighs as her seat. Both she and Matthew had barely blinked the entire time during his simple act of showing her how to straddle him, but she had never done it before (and it wasn’t like she would have been allowed to), and so everything about it was new to her. Now, she was face-to-face with him, her hands resting on his chest, his hands resting near the bend in her knees. “This is new,” she said.

“Are you comfy?” he asked. She nodded. “D’you like it?” he asked again.

“It’ll take some getting used to,” she admitted. “But I can see it being nice.”

Being nice. Matthew couldn’t help but grin. “It’ll be nice. Trust me.”

Effie nodded. She did trust Matthew. So when she went in to continue their kisses, it was nice, and it was beautiful, and it wasn’t so bad anymore. Which is why, when Matthew’s hands moved from her knees up her thighs, it was okay. When his hands squeezed at her flesh through her pants before going higher, it was okay. When his hands moved to her hips and pulled her even closer, it was okay.

It was okay.

298 notes · View notes

babymetaldoll · 3 years

Text

I've been working out a little bit (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Requested: Yes.

Summary: Spencer has been working out with Penelope, and they are doing their best to keep it a secret. Until (Y/N) finds out and tries to help. And though he doesn't want to because he is embarrassed about his poor athletic performance, somehow she manages to help.

Category: Fluff

Warnings: Curses, frustration. Good old fools in love.

Word count: 3.8K

A/N: Hello, pretty people! I've missed you! I hope you like this little story. It's one of the last requests pending on my list. Tomorrow I can finally visit my grandparents, I'll be taking care of them for at least two weeks, and though I know it's hard work, I am just so happy I can be with them again!! I miss them! Take care, whenever you are! Love you!

Masterlist

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

- "No fucking way, Spencer!" (Y/N) widened her eyes and laughed so hard tears filled her eyes. She was sitting at her desk at work, staring at her best friend, who could barely walk due to the two hours he had spent that morning training with Penelope.

- "Please, don't tell anyone."- he whispered and looked around the bullpen. He was too embarrassed already to let anyone else know he had to take the mandatory fit test. He wanted to avoid the jokes, especially Derek's.

- "Your secret is safe with me, as always, chipmunk"- (Y/N) smiled and bit her lips, trying not to laugh anymore- "But why on earth are you working out? You have enough case hours to cover a fit test!"

- "Apparently, I can't skip it this year. Both me and Penelope have to take it."- Spencer whispered and sat down very slowly, pain written all over his face.

His best friend stared at him reading the mix of embarrassment and physical pain he felt with each movement he made. (Y/N) smiled and opened one of her drawers, looking for the last Snicker she had hidden in case of need. Watching Spencer in pain was precisely the case. She stood up and handed him the candy, making his heart skip a beat. Spencer did his best to hide the blush on his cheeks and just looked away.

- "I can help you if you want."- (Y/N) whispered and cut him the most adorable smile she had.

- "Help me what?"

- "Working out."- she replied and bit her granola bar- "I can teach you how to kick ass, and I do look hot wearing sweat shorts."

Spencer nearly chook. He flushed and closed his eyes, trying to cover up his embarrassment. But (Y/N) giggled and turned around. Her job there was done. Now Spencer had to be picturing her in her sweat shorts.

Of course, he was. He couldn't stop, actually.

The two agents were the youngest of the team, and somehow sometimes in-between cases, it showed. Especially when they were on their own, and their conversations ended up in casual flirting.

(Y/N) was head over feet in love with Spencer, though she was never going to face it. God knows Penelope had tried to force her to deal with her feelings. But she was closed as an oyster. No matter how much Garcia insisted or how drunk they were, (Y/N) kept denying her true feelings in public.

Spencer wasn't indifferent. Not at all. As a matter of fact, he was in love with (Y/N). Everything about her bewitched him. Ever since the first time he laid eyes on her, he felt it. She was tailor-made for him. If only he weren't a nervous wreck each time he saw her...

After two years working together, Spencer had managed to overcome part of my shyness and awkwardness around (Y/N). They were best friends, and they would usually hang out in their free time. The little free time they had in the BAU. But even when they could playfully flirt all the time, Spencer was sure she didn't like him that way. He convinced himself she was just joking.

(Y/N) headed to the Batcave holding a large frappuccino and knocked on the half-opened door before walking in.

- "Penelope García, I had the feeling you were running caffeine low."

- "Oh my pretty little thing! How do you do it? You read my mind!"- the tech analyst nearly hyperventilated as soon as she held her ice and creamed coffee.

- "Reid and I were out for a little break, and I knew you would like one of these to cheer up your afternoon"- Garcia sipped her frappuccino and nodded. But as soon as she had finished savoring the perfect coffee, she asked.

- "So, you and Reid..."

- "We were out getting coffee, like the best friends we are."

- "But, there's coffee here in the kitchenette. There's no need to go out and get coffee unless you want to find an excuse to be alone with him."- (Y/N) raised an eyebrow and sighed. Garcia did that every single chance she got.

- "You and I know the FBI doesn't share our concept of "good" coffee."- (Y/N) looked at her friend and just smiled- "Besides, I told you, I felt you needed some extra sugar and joy in your life after your early workout session this morning."

- "That little snitch!"- (Y/N) chuckled and shook her head.

- "Don't get mad at Reid. He didn't tell me anything. I kind of figured there was something wrong 'cos he looked in so much pain just breathing."

- "Oh man, he is sored, but I am sure he would be way sorer if you train with him."

- "I offered myself to help him"- Garcia raised an eyebrow at (Y/N) 's words, and the young agent wide opened her eyes, blushing- "Stop staring at me like I'm a perv! I meant helping him train for the test. I could help you too."

- "Thank you, but no, thank you. I trained with you, and there's no way we are going to do all that boxing again."

- "Come on! You said you had fun!"

- "I did! I really did... but I could barely move the next day! And I had a date! I couldn't even dance, less doing... other... nevermind"- Penelope stopped herself in her tracks and shook her head.

- "Shit, PG!"- (Y/N) closed her eyes and chuckled- "Spare me the details."

- "Sorry... anyway... you and the little genius should definitely train in a more... horizontal way."

- "Garcia! Stop it!"- (Y/N) laughed and stood up- "I'm gonna go back to work 'cos clearly you have some hormonal issues today, and you are projecting."

- "Stop acting like you haven't thought about it!"- Garcia said and chuckled as her friend walked away.

- "I'm not telling you anything."

- "That means yes!"

- "No! it doesn't!"- (Y/N) was blushing; that's why she refused to turn around and look at Penelope.

- "Oh! It so does!"

The end of that day found Spencer even more sore, hungry and weary than he had felt in years. All he wanted to do was go home, eat pizza leftovers from the night before, and go straight to bed.

Until...

- "Hey, chipmunk!"- (Y/N) looked at Spencer, gathering all his things and getting ready to go home.- "Dinner at my place tonight. My treat."

- "I can pick the take out tonight?"- he said immediately and asked himself where did that come from if, a second earlier, all he wanted to do was to go to bed. Probably from the same place that kept coming back to the image of her in sweat shorts.

- "Even better. I'll cook"- (Y/N) answered and winked, playfully- "You deserve a proper homemade dinner after all the workout you did this morning."

Spencer looked at her and didn't even notice the silly smile on his face. If he had known how in love he was looking, he would have probably slapped himself. (Y/N) sighed and stood up.

- "I'm gonna take that silence as a "Great (Y/N)! Thank you! How considered! I'm so lucky to have you in my life".

Spencer rolled his eyes and shook his head.

- "Thank you, (Y/N). But I'll give you more praise if your food turns out to be eatable"- the young agent gasped, pretending to be insulted by his words, and hit Reid's arm with her knuckles.

- "Auch! (Y/N)!"

- "I'm being nice, and you are insulting me! I'm having second thoughts about driving you over!"

- "I can take the subway! You are such a slow driver I can actually be there faster."

Spencer stuck out his tongue at her and ran to the elevator, 'cos his friend widened her eyes and ran after him, probably to hit him again.

Morgan and Prentiss stared at the scene in silence, sharing a few looks, both of them thinking the exact same thing: "When are these two goofs ever going to hook up?"

- "They are annoying"- Rossi stood next to Emily's desk and crossed his arms on his chest.

- "They are in love"- she corrected, but David shook his head and sighed.

- "I know, and they are adorable, but it's so annoying staring at the same scene over and over again, waiting for something, anything, to happen between them."

- "Are you turning into a bitter old man who completely forgot about the charm of being young and in love?"- Prentiss raised an eyebrow and turned to Rossi. The Italian stared right into her eyes and shook his head.

- "I'm just saying someone should try to tell them something."

- "I've tried to talk to him about her a million times. But Reid is one private kid."- Derek said from his desk as the three of them stared at Spencer and (Y/N) getting into the elevator, still arguing and playfully playing.

- "And he is so insecure. He doesn't think she likes him."

- "Likes him? She is clearly in love with him!"- Prentiss said, annoyed- "I swear, if nothing happens between them this weekend, I'm going to intervene."

- "Now who is forgetting about the charm of being young and in love?"- Rossi joked and sighed- "Come on guys, dinner's on me."

(Y/N)' s dinner was a success. Spencer ate two portions of honey mustard-glazed chicken bake. She even managed to make him eat vegetables. And Spencer didn't even argue. Not only because it was delicious, and his body really needed some homemade dinner. But also 'cos (Y/N) got him wrapped around her fingers, even without knowing it. And if she asked him to eat veggies, Spencer (no matter how much he would argue) would eat his damn veggies. And he could actually enjoy them.

- "Ok, chipmunk, you ate all your food. You earned your dessert"- (Y/N) smiled and picked the dirty dishes from the table.

- "Let me do that. You already fed me. The least I can do is do the dishes."

Spencer followed her moves and took the dishes to the sink. (Y/N) didn't argue with that. It wasn't the first time Spencer cleaned the kitchen with her, after all. They had been good friends, close friends, for a long time, and they were used to being around each other.

But this time, it felt somehow different. Like there was something in the air warning them things were about to change for good.

- "Ok, doc. Do you wanna eat your dessert watching tv for a while?"- (Y/N) handed Spencer an ice cream bowl with chocolate chips on top and some whipped cream.

- "A smiley ice cream bowl?"- Spencer chuckled as he stared at it. He loved it.

- "Yes, you are never too old to eat food with a smile on it. And that's a life lesson, Spencer Walter Reid."- she said and walked to the couch, holding the remote control.

- "You are filled with wisdom, (Y/N)"- Reid teased her and sat by her side.

- "I know. It would help if you let me train you. You would pass your fit test in a blink."- she said and continued surfing channels.

- "Thanks, but no thanks. I wanna do it on my own."- Spencer glued his eyes on the screen and ate his dessert. (Y/N) just nodded and continued surfing channels.

- "Why?"- she asked him after a few minutes. They had been watching an old movie in silence, just eating their ice cream.

- "Why what?"- he whispered and looked at her just for a second. He didn't trust himself around (Y/N), especially under those circumstances: alone in her house. She had changed into leggings and an old extra-large sweatshirt. Her hair was in a messy bun. And Spencer didn't feel able to look at her into the eyes, 'cos he was going to cave in. He was going to grab her face with both hands and kiss her right there. No questions asked.

Which is why he avoided looking at her.

- "Why don't you want me to help you train?"

- "Just because"- he answered and glued his eyes to the screen. But (Y/N) knew better. She moved closer to him on the couch and held his hands. Spencer shivered right away at the sensation of her skin. It was so warm and soft. All he craved was some more of that. He wanted to feel her. Touch her. Taste her.

His head was going way too fast, and just because she held his hand.

- "Spencer, look at me"- she whispered and practically begged her friend to pay her attention- "I just wanna help. It's just a stupid fit test. It ain't hard."

- "For you."- he mumbled and looked down at his hand as her fingers played against his skin.

- "I didn't want you or anyone to help me 'cos I'm a fucking SSA who should be perfectly able to perform a simple fit test on his own. But no. I can't! And do you know what that means?"

- "That finally I know there's one thing you are not good at?"- she answered and smiled at him. Spencer raised his eyes and met hers. He knew his cheeks were all shades of pink, but for once, he just didn't care. He just wanted to look at her and see if she meant it. Or if she was just teasing him.

- "Right"- he snorted and shook his head.

- "I mean it, Spencer. You don't have to be good at everything."

- "It's a fit test. It's basic to be an agent. I need to be able to catch an unsub."- (Y/N) frowned and tried to understand where all that self-doubt and insecurity was coming from. To her eyes, Spencer had nothing to be ashamed of. To her, he was perfect in every single way.

- "You already catch unsubs, chipmunk. Everyday. You don't have to kick down doors to make a profile. And you don't have to run six miles to get the bad guy. Everything that you do every day at work is what an SSA is supposed to do. And you excel at it."

(Y/N) sighed and smiled at her best friend, trying to push aside the urge she felt to kiss him. His golden-brown eyes looked so big, like honey pools, she could stare for a lifetime. Spencer didn't know what to say. He really wasn't good with praises. He wasn't used to them. Not in that way.

- "Besides"- (Y/N) added after a few seconds of silence when she realized she might have said too much and started panicking.

- "It feels good to finally know there is one thing I am better than you at."

- "What are you talking about?"- Spencer answered right away, in the sassiest tone of voice.- "Just because I suck working out doesn't mean you are better. Even at my lowest, I'm still better than whatever you can do in a gym."

Reid was obviously joking. He knew (Y/N) could kick ass. Not only had she saved his life many times on the field, but also, he had seen her working out. And she could definitely kick his ass if she wanted to.

That didn't mean he wasn't going to tease her just because.

- "You take that back, Reid!"- she threatened him and

- "No"- he sentenced and crossed his arms on his chest

- "Last chance. Take it back, or you will pay for it."

- "Make me."

And that was it.

In a second, (Y/N) was on him tickling him, and trying to practice a chokehold on him. But Spencer was faster, and somehow, stronger than her. Maybe it was because he was struggling with himself. A part of him wanted her closer, and a part of him didn't want her too close, 'cos he knew his pants were going to start feeling too tight if she did.

Whatever the reason was, after two minutes of wrestling, Spencer had (Y/N) pinned down against the couch. And the way she panted against the fabric of the cushion wasn't helping him with his pants.

- "Spencer, it hurts"- she cried and tried to move from his grip, but he didn't let her go.

- "If you want me to release you, you have to say I am the best agent in this house."

- "Never!"- (Y/N) quickly answered and continued struggling.

- "Just say it, I've got you held, and I'm not going to let you free until you say it."- something in his tone of voice, it was teasing but also... sexy? (Y/N) knew Spencer wasn't trying to act that way, but it was working for her in a way she hadn't imagined. He would be so soft. And now, there he was, acting like a dominant man, holding her tight, not letting her move, literally pinned against the couch.

If only it were all happening in a different context.

- "Let me go, Spencer Reid!"- (Y/N) battled against his arms, but it was useless

- "Just say it"- he leaned in and whispered in her ear, and (Y/N) sword she could almost feel his smile as he spoke.

- "You are the best agent!! There, happy?"- she mumbled, making her best to sound annoyed and not turned on. Spencer released her, and she quickly sat down properly, rubbing her left wrist.

- "Did I hurt you?"- Spencer whispered and noticed how flustered she was. That was a first.

- "No. But I gotta tell you, you are stronger than I thought."- she said and stuck out her tongue to him, trying to be playful and innocent, though you could feel it in the air. That moment was anything but innocent.

- "Yeah, I've been working out a little bit."- Spencer answered and chuckled at his own words.

- "Well, you are going to have to learn how to control your new strength, 'cos this is going to leave a bruise"- (Y/N) whined and showed him her sore wrist. Spencer winced, ashamed he had been so hard on her without meaning any harm. He moved closer to her and held her wrist carefully. (Y/N) just looked at him as he kissed her wrist a few times.

That man couldn't be real. He was such a tease.

Did he know all the things he was, in fact, doing to her with that simple touch?

He surely had to know. Otherwise, there was no explanation, she thought.

- "Thanks"- (Y/N) whispered and fixed her eyes on his lips, still landing small kisses on her wrist.

That was when she stopped breathing. Spencer was literally breathtaking. He smiled at her, and she just couldn't help it anymore. (Y/N) leaned in and kissed him. It was a soft, short peck. But she had dared to do the unthinkable.

She kissed her best friend.

Spencer widened his eyes, shocked, and looked at her, not saying a word. They just stayed still for a good thirty seconds until Spencer finally made his move, cupping her jaw carefully with both hands and pulling her face against his.

The way she moaned into the kiss made him feel more in control than he had ever been before.

It was a soft kiss but intense. Spencer's lips rubbed carefully against her mouth, and his tongue moved carefully, making its way until he could taste her. (Y/N) moved closer to him until she was basically sitting on his lap, and his arms wrapped around her body, locking her against him.

They were in heaven.

Until it was over. Their phones buzzed at the same time, breaking the spell, ending the charm. (Y/N) jumped from Spencer's arms and grabbed her phone.

- "We've got a case"- she whispered and turned to him. He was agitated, his cheeks were red, his pants felt tight, and he was starving for more of those kisses.

- "Ok."- he replied but didn't move.

- "I'm gonna change, then we can go."- (Y/N) added, but he didn't say a word. To be fair, Spencer wasn't processing what was going on. He was still trying to elaborate a coherent thought. And most of all, he was fighting the boner in his pants that didn't let him stand up.

You could blame all the sugar in his body after the massive bowl of ice cream, or all the praising (Y/N) had given him, but Spencer found a new level of courage in that kiss. He decided it was time to stop overthinking it. It was time to act on his feelings.

- "(Y/N)"- Reid knocked on her bedroom door and heard her from the walking closet.

- "I'm almost ready. Did you talk with Garcia?"

- "No, but I don't wanna leave things like this. I wanted to talk about what just happened."

(Y/N) sighed and took a look at herself in the mirror. She could still feel her cheeks burning after that kiss, after feeling her best friend hard underneath her body, holding her against him. But she wasn't sure she wanted to hear what Reid was about to say. Most of all, because she was sure it was going to be something along the lines: "That kiss was a mistake, you are my friend. I don't wanna ruin this."

- "That kiss was..."- he mumbled and walked to her as soon as she showed up in the room, but words were hard to find when she looked at him that way.

- "Spencer, I..."- she tried to speak, but he just continued.

- "Would you like to..."

- "Pretend it didn't happen?"

- "Go out on a date with me?"- the two of them said at the same time and widened their eyes in shock.

- "What?"- (Y/N) questioned and stared at her best friend in shock- "You want to go out with me?"

- "You want to pretend it never happened?"- he asked her, scared he might have rushed to the wrong conclusions.

- "No, no, no, I don't... I can't pretend it didn't happen"- (Y/N) quickly answered and held Spencer's hand, afraid she might have ruined everything.

- "I was just scared you were going to reject me or..."- (Y/N) bt her lips and dared to look at him- "I wanna go out on a date with you"- she whispered and watched his whole face change as a big silly grin drawn on his lips.

- "Really?"- he murmured, still not sure it was actually happening. He asked her out. She said yes. He was sure that was never going to happen in real life.

- "Really"- she assured him and leaned in slowly to kiss him one more time. But her phone rang again, and so did his. This time it was a message from Hotch. Wheels up as soon as they reached the FBI.

- "But after we catch the bad guy."- (Y/N) added, and Spencer chuckled.

- "Sounds like a plan."

Spencer Reid’s taglist:

@calm-and-doctor @all-tings-diego

Requested by @shilohpug

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #babymetaldoll writes #babymetaldoll edits

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paimon-rambles · 4 years

Text

A Birthday Kiss

Characters; Kaeya

Image credit: Leheia

@cattycattitude

Summary; It's Kaeya's Birthday and he wants a birthday kiss from you, the problem is you never kissed a tone before.

November 30th, a regular day for many, waking up to perform their daily routines and carry on with their roles. But not so much for the Knights of Favonius today wasn't just a regular day especially for a certain bluenette.

Currently, the Knights of Favonius were crowing around at Diluc's tavern, a small party with wine and little treats around the table. The redhead himself seemed a bit annoyed by the situation but kept to himself.

You sat at one of the tables a glass of wine within your fingertips. Your eyes gloss over the winery, Jean and Lisa were in deep conversation, Amber was enjoying the food laid out on the table, and Venti? Well, Venti being Venti was engulfing down large amounts of alcohol. Familiar faces appearing in your eye of vision yet you didn't feel compelled to converse with anyone. To be fair you were exhausted returning from Liyue Harbor to attend the small party and haven't gotten a lot of rest the night before.

You reached for your glass of wine hoping to drown out a yawn that parted from lips. The cool liquid felt refreshing, was it enough to keep you awake? Perhaps not but you enjoyed your moments of consciousness as it last.

A voice pulled you from your drowsy mind, placing the wine back on the table you turned to greet the voice. You were met by the mysterious yet charming eye of the birthday man himself, Captain kaeya. His icy blue hair was styled, as usual, icy blue locks swept to the side. Greeting him with a smile, you couldn't help but let your heart flutter.

" Are you sure you enjoy sitting here all alone? Or did going off to Liyue made you cold?" So he noticed I was intentionally ignoring everyone, you thought to yourself, but that didn't stop a laugh from parting your lips. " Not at all, I'm just a bit sleepy that all." The bluenette didn't reply instead he looked amused by your answer. " Besides today is not about me, how are you enjoying the evening?" You finished, acknowledging the significance of the party.

Kaeya's eye lit in curiosity. " Oh, so you remember it my birthday? If I didn't know better you just came here for the wine." You rolled your eyes at his response but his cheeky smile continued to make your heart flutter.

" Of course I did, unfortunately, I didn't bring a gift." You say turning back to take a sip of wine. Kaeya seemed to be I deep thought his eye dull for a moment before returning to its mischievous glint.

" How about a birthday kiss?" You swore if it weren't your sleepy mind you would have probably passed out by the idea of kissing the bluenette. You chuckled, dust of pink starting to cloud your face.

" Bold of you to assume I know how to kiss people." You replied amusingly. But truth be told, this would be your first kiss if it were to occur. But Kaeya is just joking. Right?

Kaeya let out a chuckled as well, his face slowly inched closer to yours, not significantly but enough to make your heart beat faster. Your sleepy mind awoke in shock, racing with many thoughts." Oh? It's not that hard." The captain replied. At this point your blushing form was obvious. Mustering your confidence you pursed your lips pretending to be in deep, but you were struggling to compose yourself.

" Really? Why don't you show me?" He was playing bold so why shouldn't you? However the moment the last word left your lips you instantly regretted it, feeling your face become redder by the passing second. You maintained eye contact with the cavalry captain, refusing to seem so weak in front of him.

He smirked, once again inching closer to your tomato like face. " It'd my pleasure." His voice was almost like a whisper, it ran a shiver down your spine. His hand gently rested at your chin, lifting your head to meet his gaze. His other hand went to grasp yours. The distance grows shorter and shorter before his lips were merely brushing against yours.

Your body grew tense as the distance closed. You were surprised to feel him squeeze your hand almost comfortingly, relieving some of the tension. You closed your eyes, turning to return the kiss.

After a few moments, he pulled away. A smirk still present on his lips. " See, I told you it wasn't that hard." Your lips parted to speak but no words came out. Noticing this Kaeya added, " That's the best gift I've gotten today." His eyes flickered to his glass wine, then back to you. Picking up the glass he turned to his heel, most likely to refill his glass. " I don't want to bother you any further, I'll leave you to continue sulking."

His humor causes you to chuckle despite your flustered form. " Kaeya." You called out for the bluenette. Kaeya turned to face you again. He flashed you a smile, neither smug nor cheeky but a genuine smile.

" Happy Birthday."

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fic #kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #kaeya x reader #genshin kaeya x reader

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justmeandmysickies · 3 years

Text

@angstyaches this is probably not exactly what you had in mind but I hope you still like it!

Bonding

characters: Nick and Joe

warnings: emeto

„Please come over, I’m sick.“ That was all Nick had said, before the line clicked, indicating that the call had ended.

Now usually Joe would have called him right back to give him a piece of his mind – he wasn’t Nick’s mother after all – but it was different this time.

Nick was always whiny when sick. His usually so stoic and smug self would be replaced by the attitude of a needy 7-year-old as soon as he had the sniffles. And that was never a reason to worry. He’d be back to behaving like himself after a few days of resting, so Joe usually wouldn’t bother going over there to take care of him. Since Nick would be either sleeping or harassing him 24/7 it was simply not worth it.

But something about Nick’s call had Joe in his car and on the road in a matter of seconds. Something was wrong. Nick hadn’t sounded whiny. He had sounded like he was in pain. Genuine pain. And Joe didn’t like the idea of that one bit.

He arrived at Nick’s building several minutes later, grocery bag filled with sick-day-supplies in hand.

Joe briefly wondered if his boyfriend had been smart enough to leave the apartment unlocked for him but fortunately the door swung open with ease.

Upon entering the small but cozy living room, he was immediately greeted by Fork, the red cat Nick had adopted just a few months prior to the beginning of their relationship. Joe had never understood that decision – he wasn’t particularly fond of the general concept of having pets, especially not the ones that could kill you in your sleep if they wanted to.

Nick however seemed to love his miniature tiger, so Joe had to live with that. Still, he couldn’t help the face of disgust as Fork rubbed up against his leg, leaving behind a trail of red hair on his black jeans.

Despite his obvious dislike for the cat, Joe stepped into the kitchen to check if his ill-stricken boyfriend had remembered to feed his pet. The food-bowl seemed reasonably full, so he started putting away the few groceries he had bought, ignoring Fork who was looking up at him expectantly as he opened up the cabinet that contained the cat treats.

Satisfied with himself, he closed the cabinets and grabbed some Gatorade for Nick to drink. Now came the hard stuff.

Joe had no idea how to care for other people. His entire life he had been taking care of himself but when it came to others he was at a loss. Maybe it was his lack of empathy. Or maybe it was his fear of things that aren’t in his control. Or he was simply scared that people would see that he actually cared. Whatever the reason, he usually avoided having to take care of someone at all costs. But this was his boyfriend, and he needed his help, so Joe had to suck it up.

And that’s why he braced himself with a deep breath and took off down the hallway to Nick’s bedroom, Fork right on his heels.

Joe opened the door in one swift motion, letting the two of them into the room. It was dark; Nick had pulled all the curtains closed. The sick man himself was only a lump buried in pillows and blankets.

Joe stood still for a few seconds, trying to figure out if his boyfriend was asleep, momentarily forgetting about the cat that had followed him into the room. And before he could stop him, Fork had already jumped up the bed, immediately cuddling close to his owner’s face.

Nick groaned and Joe could have slapped himself. He had probably been asleep before Fork decided to get in his face. “Fork, how the hell did you open the door?” The blonde asked, voice heavy with sleep as he gave his cat a little shove.

“He didn’t.” Joe answered as he stepped closer to the bed.

Nick looked up in confusion. He obviously hadn’t noticed Joe standing there. “Josh? What are you doing here?”

Joe frowned. That was alarming to say the least. “You called me.” He put a careful hand on his boyfriend’s forehead, fearing the worst. Nick just hummed, leaning into Joe’s cool palm, who clicked his tongue in concern. “You’re burning up. Have you taken your temperature?” He drew his hand back and Nick whined at the loss of contact.

“I didn’t feel like it.” He mumbled quietly, burying himself deeper in his pillow.

“What do you mean you didn’t feel like taking your temperature? Have you at least taken some medicine?” Joe couldn’t decide if he was very irritated or very concerned.

“No, didn’t feel like doing that either.”

Irritated. He was definitely very irritated. And it took him every ounce of willpower to not yell at the sick man in front of him.

Joe took a deep breath. He could do this. “I’ll get you some medication in a second. First, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Everything.” Came the reply from deep within the covers. It was clear Nick didn’t feel like talking but in order to help him, Joe had to know what was going on.

“Babe.” Joe sighed impatiently, waiting for a useful answer.

Nick groaned but stuck his head out from under the covers anyway. He was quiet for a moment, before he answered. “Everything. I’m not kidding. But mainly my ear. It hurts so bad, when I first woke up this morning I actually cried for a while.”

He laughed nervously after the last part, trying to play it off as a joke but Joe knew it was true. Nick was honest when he wasn’t feeling well.

His concern only grew when Nick winced visibly, closed his eyes, and started taking deep breaths.

Joe thought for a moment and then it hit him.

“Are you dizzy?” Nick hummed affirmatively. “Feel sick?” Another hum. “Does it feel like there is pressure in your ear or your head in general?” Nick stilled for a second, seemingly thinking about his answer before nodding.

“You have an ear infection.” Joe stated matter-of-factly. Unfortunately, he was all too familiar with the concept. He used to get ear infections all the time as a kid and even as an adult he still dealt with them every other year. The pain could be excruciating, at times having you unable to move. No wonder Nick was feeling so awful.

The latter only groaned, too exhausted to form words or even sentences.

“Alright, here is the deal.” In a way Joe was glad it was an ear infection – that was at least something he would be able to deal with. “I’ll get you some fever reducers and something to drink. You’ll take a bath and then you’ll go back to resting. If this isn’t better by tomorrow, I’ll take you to a doctor.”

“Why do I need to take a bath?” Nick whined, once again burying his face under his blanket.

Rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s childish behavior, Joe pulled the blanket lower to expose Nick’s face. “Because you stink. And it might make you feel better.”

Nick wanted to argue but Joe had already left the room to grab some medicine so there really was no point. He returned seconds later with some pills.

The next step was the bath. Nick reached his arms out and Joe pulled him upwards with seemingly no effort. In hindsight, that was a horrible idea. A wave of dizziness hit Nick like a truck as soon as he was upright. If it hadn’t been for Joe, he would have crumpled to the floor right then and there.

Joe held his partner close, encouraging him to take some deep breaths when suddenly Nick’s entire body convulsed with a dangerously wet sounding retch. He was trying to decide whether to get a bucket or get his boyfriend to the bathroom, but Nick made that decision for him as he bolted towards the door, a hand clamped tightly over his mouth.

He was so dizzy he could barely see where he was going – it was like his body was moving on autopilot. It’s a miracle he didn’t run face first into a wall.

He crashed to the floor in front of the toilet, just seconds before last nights meager dinner made a reappearance, along with the medicine he’d just taken.

Joe went after him hesitantly, wanting to help but not knowing how. He ultimately settled on keeping Nick’s hair out of his face. It wasn’t much but it was appreciated.

The entire ordeal seemed to be a one-and-done thing. The blonde was left panting and spitting excess saliva into the toilet for a while, but his stomach seemed to have calmed down for the time being.

“Why the fuck do you puke, when your ear is infected?” Nick asked breathlessly while wiping some sweat from his brow.

“I’m not a doctor but I’m pretty sure it’s cause of the pain.” Joe answered, getting up to turn on the water for the bathtub.

At that moment Fork casually strolled into the bathroom and right onto Nick’s lap where he immediately settled down, purring lovingly. The blonde couldn’t help but smile a bit as he scratched his cat behind his ear.

The three of them sat there in silence for a while, Nick being too exhausted to talk and Joe not knowing what to say anyway.

Joe once again helped his boyfriend to his feet, when the bath was ready, although a lot slower this time. He even helped the sick man undress before he turned to leave the bathroom. “Wash up, I’m gonna change your bedsheets.”

“But I’m too tired to bathe by myself.” Nick whined as he struggled to step into the tub.

Joe turned around slowly, not quite believing what his boyfriend had just said. “Are you telling me that you need my help bathing?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Please?” Nick pouted, which was a rather bizarre image, considering that he was muscular, over 6 feet tall and covered in tattoos.

The younger man sighed in defeat. “Fine. But I’m not getting in with you. I literally just showered two hours ago.”

“Deal.”

Turns out, it was a good decision not to leave Nick alone. He was sleepy and if it hadn’t been for Joe, he would’ve probably drowned in his own bathtub. Right now Joe was carefully massaging shampoo into his boyfriend’s scalp who was about to drift off to sleep. He had been fighting to keep his eyes open for the last ten minutes, but it was a losing battle. It was impossible to stay awake with the heavenly feeling of Joe’s fingers in his hair.

And the latter didn’t mind. Any other day he’d yell at Nick for sleeping in the bathtub but not today. He could use the rest and Joe was there to watch him, make sure he was alright. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt him. So Joe started rinsing out the shampoo as Nick fell asleep.

Fork, who had been forced to get up from his owners lap several minutes ago, now decided to settle into the brunette’s side. He still wasn’t a fan of pets but maybe he could get used to this one, Joe thought, unable to hide the fond smile that had snuck up on him.

#em writes #nick #joe #my ocs #emeto

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wincore · 4 years

Text

wasted nights | liu yangyang

pairing: yangyang x reader

words: 5.5k

summary: firstly, you don’t think you should have survived this long. secondly, this might be the zombie apocalypse but your survival doesn’t feel as threatened by zombies as it does by liu yangyang. thirdly, you’ve chosen the worst time to develop a crush.

genre: zombie apocalypse!au, fluff, humour(?)

warnings: mention of injuries & blood, violence (against zombies), dumbassery, do not attempt during an actual zombie apocalypse

song rec(s): wasted nights - one ok rock

a/n: october birthdays get halloween specials~ although this one is just full of unnecessary appearances by cats. also campfires because october campfires hit different. (i’m definitely saying this because i was born in october) also not me writing this as a joke and reaching 5.5k words </3

It’s two hours till sundown.

What would you be doing on a day within the ordinary? Likely getting back from after school activities, chatting with a friend or feeding the stray kittens by the school building, or maybe pretending Liu Yangyang doesn’t exist—the possibilities were endless. Now there’s only one.

“Yangyang,” you call, more worried than not.

On a day out of the ordinary, you wish you hadn’t prayed for your exam to get cancelled the day all of this broke out. You wouldn’t be scavenging like some sort of rodent and you wouldn’t be standing at the gates of an abandoned shrine, though now is undoubtedly a better time to pray. It’s not the best of situations (especially not with a certain little rascal attached to your side).

And understatements are definitely your thing now.

“Yangyang,” you call a little louder this time, eyes shifting around the shrine area.

Should you step in? He asked you to wait, the stone steps now looking a little glum without him skipping over them. The only signs of life you’ve seen around has been a family of raccoons looking rather smug and a single spotted dove preening itself atop a branch. The lack of visibility into the forest surrounding the shrine bothers you, like something could jump out any minute and you suck your teeth, growing annoyed. Where is that boy?

You tap your foot against the ground soundlessly. What if a zombie were to pop out? They might be slow but the sight of them is still gross enough to paralyze you. Yangyang has his baseball bat with him, which leaves you defenseless in terms of weapons. Still, it’s not like the bat would have done you any good. You are, in the truest sense of the word, average at any sort of combat and freezing at the limbs comes to you more naturally. Zombies are not fun; whatever nonsense Yangyang has been trying to explain to you for weeks is optional, as is every other suggestion that comes from his mouth. It’s quiet and quiet, creepy shrines have never been your favourite place in the city.

You hear a low growl behind you, stiffening at the sound. Best case scenario, it’s a big rat. You’d rather not think of the worst case. Eventually, you gather some courage and turn slowly only to jump back with a short scream.

Yangyang takes the old festival mask off to reveal a giant grin on his face, urging you to knock it right off. The anger that follows is natural and he should be used to it by now. Yangyang continues smiling, as if he didn’t just pull your soul right out of your body, and when he opens his mouth to say something, you’re quick to land a swift punch to his gut. He lets out a pained cry, dropping to the ground in a squat.

“Don’t do that,” you seethe. “Why can’t you greet me normally?”

“I’m okay!” He signals a thumbs up while the other hand clutches his stomach.

“I didn’t ask.”

He moves his hand to place it over his chest. “Ow. Oh, and to answer your question, it’s because you don’t want to do my special handshake with me.”

“Hm. Get up. You said there were supplies here. What did you find?”

He pouts, finally getting up. “I can’t believe you’re just using me for supplies.”

You cross your arms. “Just get up already.”

Yangyang springs up despite the (admittedly) strong blow to his stomach and presents to you the plastic bag he’d been holding. In any other circumstances, it would spark some disapproval on your behalf but it turns out, those things do outlive most everything. For a moment, the ridiculous image of pulling a plastic bag over a zombie’s head crosses your mind.

Yangyang finally responds, taking out whatever items he recovered. Not everything is useful however; he’s simply taken to collecting knick-knacks.

“I found toothbrushes! Maybe your breath will stop stinking—”

You raise your clenched fist as a threat.

“—I was kidding. Obviously. You have lovely breath.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose in an attempt to contain your exasperation.

“Also, I found clean water so I filled up some bottles and yeah, I couldn’t find much else but oh! There was this huge cat and I mean huge like a big chonk kinda guy, you know? And I’m sure he was, like, trying to tell me something, like, he kept hissing when I went near him but…”

You wonder if Yangyang ever gets tired from speaking so fast, his words fading out of your comprehension. You shake your head, clearing your throat.

“Can we leave now?”

Yangyang raises an eyebrow, almost smirking as the gears in his head turn.

“You’re not… superstitious, are you?” he asks. “I heard there’s a lot of reported sightings of ghosts here.”

“No,” you blurt, quick to deny. Yangyang might have seen you crying after getting lost in the dark, almost fainting after encountering a zombie for the first time or even in deep sorrow after you lost your friend—but there’s still part of your dignity to protect before you can admit your fear of ghosts. There’s just something about this abandoned shrine; there are no visitors apart from the caretaker and if loneliness is responsible for anything, it’s making lonely things seem a whole lot scarier. You’d rather leave before the sun sets.

Yangyang laughs. “Who do you think would win in a fight? Zombies or ghosts?”

You roll your eyes. “That’s so stupid. Obviously ghosts.”

“No. Okay, maybe. I just think…”

There he goes again.

You wonder if he was always this way—when you passed him by in the hallways, when he shot you a polite smile at club meetings or when you saw him being loud with his friends blocking part of the sidewalk. You’re sure he couldn’t have been entirely sane.

“Oh my god.”

Yangyang’s voice jerks you back to the present. You follow his line of sight to a cardboard box beneath a particularly dense shrub; it's a large one—quite possibly a carton of some commercial product which doesn’t matter anymore. However, it’s not the details of the box itself so much as it is the contents that grab your attention.

You can almost see the sparkle in Yangyang’s eyes as he views the cats huddled together inside the box. They don’t seem to mind each other within their personal space—you count four of them, tightly packed and eyes closed in a late afternoon nap. How the box hasn’t ripped apart yet is quite a mystery, and what’s more troubling is how at ease they seem to be with the entire human race in disarray.

You grab Yangyang by the collar before he can make his way to them.

“Don’t harass them,” you say, massaging your temples. “Jesus, it’s like they’re glued to each other. Do they have to be in the same box?”

“It might just be the last cardboard box left on earth.” Yangyang shrugs.

The cats mind their own business, grooming their fur or closing their eyes in an odd sort of bliss. You wonder what it would be like to be so unbothered by all the chaos. It reminds you of someone.

“Come on,” you urge, thinking back to older times. “Don’t think I forgot how much you used to bother old Louis back then.”

Louis was the university cat, fed with so much love that he eventually started avoiding people like the plague. You wonder how he’s holding up for a brief moment.

“Don’t think I forgot how you were back then too.”

“What do you mean?” you snap, glaring at him.

“You were already a zombie,” he says before engaging in a cheap mimicry of you, drooping his eyelids and taking slow steps muttering, “I… must… maintain… gpa… grr.”

You almost take off your shoe to throw it at him before deciding it’s not worth your time. Ah, if only you had done that during club meetups, perhaps you’d have felt better about him joining. Everyone treated him so differently, and you hate to admit you now understand why.

Everyone loves a good troublemaker.

And there happens to be another thing special about your sole competitor for the debate club’s president position. Apart from his strange antics (charms, he says), even this virus—this fuckall literal killer virus can’t infect him. He’s immune—an occurrence with a possibility lower than you finding him attractive. (There, you said it.)

You look at Yangyang still talking about Louis and a small smile crosses your face. You’d feed your right arm to a zombie before you admitted it but it’s nice having him around. You furrow your brows at the sudden familiar bubbling in your chest and shove it away in a flash before your conscious decides to tell you what it is.

Your heart jumps to your throat when you make eye contact with Yangyang, turning away in a rather awkward manner. Oh, the end of the world does awful things to you.

“Are you listening?” Yangyang raises an eyebrow. “Oh my god, you weren’t listening at all.”

You roll your eyes. “I was distracted.”

“By me?” he offers in a sing-song voice, prompting a smack from you. It’s easier to pretend this way.

Yangyang massages his shoulder with a huff. “Why are you hitting me so much today? I’ve counted like eight and the day’s only just over.”

“Sorry,” you mumble before clearing your throat. “I mean, you’ve also said something annoying, like, more than eight times today.”

“I’m not annoying.”

There’s a pause.

“Okay, maybe a little bit.”

The sun starts to lay in rest by the time you reach the city. Compared to the green, red and yellow of the yet standing shrine, this place is in dull monochrome with the occasional coloured signs that flicker to life. You force yourself to think but have a hard time remembering if it was always this way. Was it any different with the rushing cars or apathetic crowds? You can’t tell. You were part of them, after all.

“Hey, how about a bottle flip challenge but with traffic cones?” Yangyang thinks aloud, walking backwards as you pass by a particularly well-lit alley.

You roll your eyes in response. Is it the lack of people making him that way? Your unflustered companion looks at home among neon lights, all of them seeming to point towards him as an answer to a question you haven’t quite figured out yet.

You glance at the alley just a second longer. The electric lanterns still glow red, and although dim, there are many. The shops almost look like you could enter and be greeted with a crowd of university kids or a group of office workers drinking away in celebration of the weekend. You sigh. It’s most certainly deserted inside; there’s no doubt. At the most, the tables are still arranged neatly and the meat grills aren’t completely rusted. You wonder if it’s a Friday.

There was never much grass in the city but whatever growth there was has withered into a mustard yellow or a lamenting grey. An empty city is hardly appealing, but you can’t deny the ill-favored things you’ve done the past few months in the absence of people—a part of you questioning whether breaking into supermarkets is still against the law when no one’s around to keep it. You smile at the memory of Yangyang pushing you around in a shopping cart, though you’d gotten drunk off the (stolen) liquor prior. The neon lights hanging as a banner over sketchy shops sometimes spark alive before dying down over and over again, and to be fair, you don’t think they ever shined too bright. Ironically, they’re the liveliest thing about the city now.

The sky’s soaked in ink at a time you assume to be around seven in the evening. You walk closer to Yangyang without realizing; it’s not often you’ve been out this late the past few months.

“Hey.” Yangyang snaps you out of your daze. “Be careful.”

The words are strange coming from him but you understand why. You look up ahead with caution and a shiver runs down your spine as you stare at the intersection, a lone, tattered figure droning aimlessly. It’s only one, you tell yourself. And they’re slow.

The memories of your previous encounters send warnings over your skin, shivers begging you to run as fast as you can. You would if it weren’t for Yangyang’s grip on your hand, tugging you forward gently and though it’s something he does every time, you wonder if he knows how you’re really feeling. His footsteps are soundless, with the same red sneakers he’s worn since the beginning of this but something tells you it’s not the shoes that give him a cat’s footfall. The purple lights flicker on and off over the shop on the opposite street, the suddenness of it making you latch onto Yangyang for a short-lived moment. You’re quick to let go, throat too dry to make any sound.

You curve around what would be a straight path, careful not to be in the creature’s line of sight when you cross. The streets seem wider when they’re so empty, and somehow it feels more unlawful this way. Yangyang signals to you to stay closer, and you follow before bumping into his back when he stops abruptly. There’s absolutely no sound, the feeling in your gut much worse than at the shrine.

“Something’s wrong,” Yangyang whispers.

A strangled shriek erupts from your mouth when something launches itself onto the two of you, making you land on your butt. You would’ve placed your hands over your eyes, but you’ve learned how to be less of a coward these past few days.

A shaky breath leaves you. A cat. It was a stray cat. The little asshole looks at you with almost twinkling eyes, tail swishing from side to side before deciding you’re not worth its time. Your shoulders sag, a moment of relief despite your stiff muscles.

“Uh, (name)?”

You look up only for your stomach to fill with dread. The zombie from before is staring directly at the two of you, the same vacant look in its eyes that has haunted you for the entirety of the apocalypse.

“It’s okay, he’s too slow,” Yangyang reminds you, voice barely a whisper as he helps you stand.

“We can just take the other street—it’s a little longer but it’s mostly safe and there’s no way he can—”

Yangyang is interrupted by a sickening growl from behind you and you jump back. There’s another one. And another. You count four more before holding back a swear. Yangyang grabs you by the shoulder and the two of you take a step back, onto the sidewalk. There’s a shop behind you; you read a smeared sign above the plastic door curtains indicating a dumpling place. Even if you were to hide in there, there’s no guarantee you’d be safe.

But if you’ve learned anything in these months, it’s that anything is always better than nothing.

The night has settled in completely, you realize. You’re about to tug Yangyang to the inside as you turn around, only to freeze up in your spot. A pale woman emerges from the store, her makeup still fresh but you know that look, the look in her eyes. How cruel.

“Please,” she mumbles, taking a step towards you and you think you might just cry. It’s not long before she turns, you think with dread.

You stumble back to Yangyang when she emits a blood curdling screech, lunging at you and to either your alarm or worse, relief, Yangyang pushes you back. You watch with wide eyes as the woman sinks her teeth into his arm, nausea growing at the sight of blood. He moves fast though, his arm swinging the baseball bat to meet the woman in the head, hard enough to knock her out. In these few moments, one of the zombies is close enough to reach an arm out towards you and you swear you can hear the horrid sound of his bones cracking when you step back. The longer you remain in this state, the slower you are. You suppose you should take comfort in these words but when you look at it, you still see a man.

Hollow. They’re all hollow.

You take a deep breath.

Just as the thought crosses your head, you see Yangyang swing his bat again, meeting the zombie on the head and much to your wide-eyed horror, the head flies off into the dumpling shop and the body reacts with just about as much confusion as you do. It wildly waves about its hands in the now vacant spot before crumpling onto the road with a quiet realization.

Yangyang makes a face, pressing his knuckle to his mouth to prevent himself from what you presume is gagging. However, when you look closely, he seems to be holding back a laugh instead and very painfully so. You know he has a habit of laughing at the most inappropriate times but this, it really takes the cake.

“Home run?” he suggests, turning to you with a sheepish half-grin. There’s no hint of malice in his voice and you think that it’s probably not that he enjoys swinging his baseball bat at zombies.

“You’re disgusting,” you reply, shaking your head.

“Maybe I should leave you here then.”

You can’t believe he has the gall to be cheeky with blood running down his arm and four of the undead drooling at the sight of you two.

“Do you think we can find ingredients that aren’t stale here? I miss having dumplings.”

“Yangyang.”

“Okay, okay.”

The other ones are still far enough and the two of you take this chance to run off towards the street Yangyang mentioned earlier and safely out of view. You notice him panting heavier than before, and your eyes scan over his arm in worry. The bite is ugly, red with oozing blood, and you hold back the urge to ask him if he’s anaemic.

Yangyang follows your eyes before an ‘ah’ leaves his lips. He spins his head to the right, trying to catch a glimpse of the wound in the same manner a dog chases after its own tail. He puts the bat down to try and twist his arm to see the injury but you stop him, clicking your tongue at his silly behaviour.

“You’re not twelve, Yangyang,” you scold. “Let’s get back to the hotel first.”

He shrugs, and you think some provoking words are ready to leave his mouth when he simply picks up his bat and walks off. You blink before quickening your steps to catch up with him. The blood dripping down his forearm makes you feel a little unwell but you know better than to touch infections.

It takes around fifteen minutes longer than usual to reach the hotel—Yangyang was right. It is safer here, with no zombies lurking around the corners. He must have been out late when he was scouting, you think with distaste.

You reach the now-rusting gates of your haven without trouble and the moment you reach, Yangyang falls to his knees, heaving a breath he seems to have been holding. You rush to him, eyes frantic when you reach your hand out to him, and he flinches, moving away from you.

“Don’t,” he mutters before getting up. “You turning into a real zombie would be my personal nightmare.”

It’s not enough to curb your worry but you follow him nonetheless, the stupid, wavering grin on his face making you unable to decipher what he’s really feeling.

The familiar smell of honeysuckle washes into you as you pass by the entrance, locking the door behind you as Yangyang falls onto one of the chairs in the lobby. Kunhang happened to be passing by, a muffled swear leaving him when he sees the blood on Yangyang’s arm.

“You didn’t touch him, did you?” he asks, pulling on his gloves to further see the wound. A former med student is the best you have here, and somehow, you’ve never seen him complain about having to take care of someone as bothersome as Yangyang.

You shake your head in reply to Kunhang and watch as he runs from shelf to shelf to procure more bandages than you’ve ever seen in your life. You’ve been seeing an awful lot lately.

“We’re going to run out of bandages in a week if he keeps this up,” Kunhang says with a frown, moving so fast you can barely see his hands. “He’ll be okay, I guess. The virus just makes him dizzy.”

He’s probably thinking the same thing you are. Something serious happening to Yangyang is a little bit of a miracle. Maybe he’ll finally be set right in the head.

Even so, you know Kunhang is worried despite his quick response, his frown lines deepening once he’s done wrapping up. He sighs before waltzing off to discard his gloves.

It’s not that you aren’t impressed by Kunhang; you’ve just seen him do that too many times to count. And of course, it’s mostly Yangyang on the receiving end. They might be good friends but this also happens to be the only time they're serious together. Moreover, Kunhang seems to beat Yangyang in the talking-for-twelve-hours-straight department. You have to admit though, being in charge of first aid for the few people stuck in this hotel is not an easy business.

You take a seat opposite to Yangyang, dozing off in his chair and wonder if you should wipe the drool off his chin. Disgusting, you think to yourself, but another part of you dares to offer the word cute.

The best thing about barricading yourself in a hotel during the apocalypse is not having to worry about beds. There’s at least five hundred rooms in this skyrise, more than enough for, what, sixteen people? The place is so big that you hardly run into the others. The only rule around here is regarding the pantry—to write down who’s taken what on the notepad stuck to one corner. Despite what movies show, people are far more helpful to each other in times of need, more so than usual even. You relax into the chair, the velvet cushion feeling comfortable against your back.

There’s a nice communal feeling in this place.

You frown. It’s not like you can stay here forever.

At the very least, you can pretend each sundown and sunrise is ordinary here. You close your eyes, and slowly, thoughts of why you’re trying so hard to remember life before this drift away.

Yangyang wakes up before you do, grinning like crazy as he shrugs you awake. You stare at him through groggy eyes, untangling your limbs from yourself. The cold seeps into you and you shiver, hugging yourself.

“We found the keys to the lounge,” he rushes, albeit in a gentle voice. “Guess what?”

“Unh?”

“There’s a campfire spot over there! The others already started but I thought I should wake you up.”

It’s just like him to be excited about something like that. You get up nevertheless, Yangyang pulling you through the stairs and onto the only elevator that seems to work around here. There’s quite a few things about this hotel left to be figured out. You’re going to have to start worrying anyway when the power from the generator runs out.

Kunhang and an older man, Mr Kang, are the only ones there once you reach. You had expected it but the lounge is gigantic and a small part of it provides the artificial campfire area. There are paintings of wild animals and trees for children, you assume, on the walls only cut off by a large vent on the ceiling. The fire burns bright over the large circle of soil and firewood, whose authenticity is debatable. You sigh at the warmth, having grown tired of the autumn weather’s mood swings.

Kunhang greets the two of you with a grin before delicately poking Mr Kang to at least acknowledge your presence. It’s funny, the lot of you.

The place is a little small, considering there’s a literal fire in the middle of the room. You almost sit on Yangyang because he shifts too suddenly at Mr Kang’s disapproval of proximity, a small yelp leaving you whereas Yangyang, for the first time, looks like he’d rather die. He mutters an apology, and two of you manage to sit a good two feet apart, sudden awkwardness rising in the air—all of it unnoticed by Mr Kang. You heard he was a banker but if Kunhang and Yangyang had a polar opposite, it would most certainly be him. You can’t even remember the man’s voice.

You think you should say something but Kunhang’s laughter breaks the silence. There’s an unspoken exchange between him and Yangyang, piquing your curiosity though you aren’t sure what you should be asking. You just assume it’s one of their stupid inside jokes.

“I left your gift on your table. You can add it to your dumb shoe collection,” Kunhang tells Yangyang, smiling before standing up to stretch. “I’m going to bed. Mr Kang, won’t you accompany me?”

Mr Kang gets up begrudgingly and you’re about to ask them to stay longer when Kunhang turns to you enthusiastically. “Good night, (name). Don’t have too much fun. Although, I suppose there’s no better time to have too much fun either.”

You watch with furrowed brows as the two disappear into the doorway and down the stairs. You spend a couple of moments in silence before clearing your throat. When it goes unnoticed, you turn to Yangyang despite the warmth on your face.

“It’s not dumb,” he mutters to himself, a little zoned out.

You stare at him for a few moments and the familiar feeling rises in your throat, now with a little voice to accompany it.

Cute.

You cough, distracting yourself with any and all thoughts you would rather have, even of the zombies. Now isn’t the time—or is it the perfect time? You shake your head, calming yourself.

“Does it… hurt?” You ask, eyeing Yangyang’s arm.

He looks up as if broken from a daze, the campfire lights still dazzling in his eyes. You hold back a laugh. He really is a child; if he’s so easily mesmerized by fires, that is.

“Probably not any worse than the lady I whack-a-mole’d. Now that must’ve hurt.” Yangyang puffs his cheek before looking straight at you.

You stare back. It’s not the weirdest thing he’s said.

“What? I feel bad beating the crap out of zombies sometimes,” he says, scratching the back of his head.

You hum in response. The thought of Yangyang developing a conscience is almost as bad as having to think about zombies. Though, you’ll have to admit, it does give you a strange relief. Zombies can’t really feel pain—they are, after all, numb in every possible sense—but some part of you wonders if it’s alright like this. Morals and survival aren’t meant to overlap.

You feel the need to distract yourself with something.

“Hey,” you call, moving closer to Yangyang such that your shoulders almost touch. Before you know it, you brush the hair from his face, trying to style the mess into something more neat—a thing you’ve been wanting to do since the first time you saw him. Every time you’d see the messy mop of hair at an official event of the debate club, you’d have this strong urge and an almost putrid form of annoyance. You still don’t know how he managed to get in.

“You don’t look terrible with parted hair,” you muse. “You could’ve looked more decent at the debates.”

You look down from his hair to see Yangyang frozen, eyes wide as if a deer in the headlights.

“Are- Are you not breathing?” you ask.

Yangyang sucks in a large chunk of air, fast enough to choke on it and break into a coughing fit as he turns away from you. You reach out to pat his back but he waves his hand at you, indicating he’s fine before he can turn to you.

You look at him with no particular emotion, the night breeze having worked its way to you.

“What was that about a gift? Are you and Kunhang getting things for each other without telling me?” you say, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

There's a short pause, filled with the crackling of fire.

“It’s my birthday,” Yangyang says with a small smile as the campfire lights dance across his cheeks.

And yet, the words come out sad as if he’d been waiting for an occasion to tell you. You look at him, eyes widening ever so slightly accompanied by the loss of words and take a sharp breath.

“I’m not going to ask for a gift,” Yangyang teases. “Don’t look so worried.”

You open your mouth and close it again, unable to explain the gentle wash of sadness overcome you when you see just a boy. For all the talking he does, he never asks for much.

“I mean, I- I liked spending the day with you. Why do you look so sad? Did I say something? Again?”

You look over his features, from his brow bone to his wide eyes to his lips and the conclusion arrives as gently as the end of the world. What’s the worst that could happen?

You quickly pull him into a hug, still careful of his injury, and a vaguely embarrassing sound escapes Yangyang, something akin to a sheep’s call. He clears his throat which turns into coughing before he can wrap his arms around you, his breathing soft against your shoulder.

“I’m- I’m alive, you know? I don’t think I’m dying any time soon. I- I can’t even get infected! You know that.”

“That’s not why I’m- I…” You pull back, steeling your eyes so you don’t feel the warmth of embarrassment.

Just like you prepare for debates, you think to yourself. Maybe Yangyang was right about you being a zombie—the way you follow the same drudging formula.

“I like you,” you say, your words more of a strained whisper but they’re out before you know it. You can fake confidence, you tell yourself. It’s horrible timing and spending your (potentially) last days with someone who rejected you is just another way to shoot yourself in the foot.

But part of you has been wanting to do this for so long that you almost don’t mind.

Yangyang sucks in a breath, pressing his knuckles to his mouth as he straightens.

“That was- Wow. Okay. I- Uh. Wow.”

You let the heat grow stronger in your cheeks, racking your head for an explanation or even a lie. Maybe you can say it was a mistake.

“I- I meant…” You lose track of your words. You can’t lie.

“I’ve never been confessed to,” he blurts, and if you squint, you swear you can see him blushing.

“Huh?”

Yangyang coughs again, followed by the same embarrassing sound. “That was- That was the first time.”

The silence between you is accompanied by the crackling of fire and the soft path-making of wind. You’re at a loss for words, something that you should be used to by now—they clearly belong to someone else.

“Oh my god, that was so stupid,” he says, pulling a horrified face as he frantically waves his hands about. “I meant to say I like you too but I- I guess I forgot to say it out loud. Ah, crap- I sound even stupider now, don’t I?”

Your lips twitch, trying to contain your smile but you’re seized with uncontrollable laughter anyway. The mortified expression on Yangyang’s face makes you burst into another fit of giggles before you can somewhat compose yourself.

“I think that’s the longest you’ve been quiet for,” you say in between recurring laughter. “Did anyone ever tell you being able to talk fast doesn’t get you ahead in debate clubs?”

Yangyang frowns.

“Oh, I just joined because I thought it’d get on your nerves,” he says, not a hint of jest in his voice.

You straighten away from him, the smile dropping from your face.

“You can’t be serious.”

He grins sheepishly, scratching the back of his head and offering no explanation. You huff in exasperation, getting up abruptly to avoid another oncoming headache. It’s a little difficult, considering you have the human version of it right beside you.

“Wait- Where are you going?” Yangyang scrambles up to his feet. “It’s my birthday, you know?”

You turn around and put your hands on your hips, a small smile on your face at the sight of him. “It’s midnight already.”

“Oh. How was I supposed to know?”

You laugh, shaking your head. Maybe the little rascal is special.

“Hey,” Yangyang calls. “You know, since this is the end of the world and all…”

You stare at him, heartbeat erratic at the lack of distance and despite the fading of teenage fantasies. Yangyang shifts nervously, glancing here and there while simultaneously trying to keep eye contact with you, an action which makes you hold back a chuckle. There’s a particular twinkle in his eyes but he can’t seem to be able to look at you straight.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, finally.

And what a daring end to the world it is.

#yangyang x reader #wayv x reader #cznnet #yangyang scenarios #wayv scenarios #yangyang imagines #wayv imagines #yangyang fluff #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #moonwrites #if you think the header is stupid thats bcs it is #graphic design is my passion <3 #you can pry the troublemaker x good kid trope out of my cold dead hands :)

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

One Summer in Paris - Unravel ~ JJK

WORD COUNT: 3.4K

GENRE: Fluffy, romance, ex-lovers to lovers,

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

DESCRIPTION: Jeon Jungkook had always loved Paris with its amazing views, incredible museums and the small Bookshop right across from the Effiel Tower. It was were he spent a lot of his summer breaks as a kid so he loved it well into his adulthood. There was one bookshop he rented a room in the summer that changed his life. It was a place where he felt happy and at peace whenever he had the chance to stay there. Where he fell in love for the first time and had his first heartbreak, a lot of firsts for him were in Paris. But what happens when he goes back to the same book shop four years later and finds the love of his life in the arms of another with a daughter who looks suspiciously like him…

THEMES: Single Parent, Jungkook x Fem!Reader, self insert, Smut will be included in a later chapter

MASTERLIST || PREVIOUS || NEXT

Your daughter was yelling happily while Jungkook chased her around the apartment with a "scary" mask on. He'd gotten it after the horror ride you'd been on the night of the fair two nights ago and Areum was convinced she wasn't scared of it so Jungkook decided to test it.

"Careful guys I don't want you-" You tried to tell them but it was too late, a crash sounded from the kitchen and you glanced over to see them standing over a frying pan that was on the floor, along with a spatula, a broken plate and a mug.

"-Break something," You finished speaking as you got up from the sofa, you were about to go and clean it when the door to the shop began to buzz, your eyes looked at the clock on the wall. It was 8 am meaning it was time for the deliveries to come in, you'd been so lost you'd completely forgotten you were supposed to open up the shop and accept the delivery.

"Oh shit!" You screamed rushing to grab your keys and head to the shop. You pulled a cardigan around your body since you were dressed in your PJ's from the night before. Jungkook frowned watching you go as he held onto Areum from behind.

"It's Wednesday, she's been so happy this weekend she's not realised it's delivery day," Areum whispered to him as she looked up to see her father so confused over why you were rushing around so much. It was true, Jungkook had decided to stay the last couple of days with you and your daughter to get to know her better and it flew by so quickly. From Sunday until today, the time had been moving so quickly you'd barely even noticed. You had someone else manning the shop whenever they could so you could spend almost all of your time with them it almost felt like he'd never left, it felt too good to be true whenever he was with you both.

"You think she's happy I'm here?" Jungkooked quizzed picking Areum up and putting her on his hip so that she wouldn't end up hurting herself on the broken glass. Areum then began shaking her head as she stared at her father in the eyes with a serious look across her face.

"I don't think, I know. She has that giant smile on her face like Anna does with Kristoff or Eric with Ariel." He chuckled at his daughter's ideas of what you looked like when you smiled and began walking down the stairs with his daughter. He was going to leave her with you while he cleaned up only to see you accepting a bunch of boxes off a younger man who was staring at you. Jealously began to bubble in Jungkook at the thought of someone else coming along now. David had just been kicked out of the picture and now someone else was trying to come into your life.

"I heard you and David broke up..." Josh said slowly looking at you as you signed the papers in your hand, you simply hummed at him not wanting to get into the conversation with someone who had no idea what was going on in your life. Josh had always been that kind boy that came in and out of the shop but sometimes he was too noisy for his own good.

"He disrespected someone I care a lot about," Jungkook stared at the back of your head feeling the jealously inside of him begin to melt as he realised that "someone" you cared about was him. Areum began to wiggle out of his grasp and then sprinted over to the delivery boy.

"Uncle Josh!" She began sprinting over to Josh who knelt down holding out both of his hands face down and curled into balls, Jungkook frowned as he watched the exchange between them both.

"Pick one," She stared up at the boy who couldn't have been any older than 20 and she pointed at his left fist, he turned it to reveal three lollipops and a bag of small sweets.

"Thanks, Josh, it'll keep her occupied while I work through this lot." You laughed softly as she began to struggle opening the small bag of sweets, Jungkook was about to step forward and assist her when the door to the shop opened and Grace walked into the shop. There was a nasty look on her face as she started shaking her head at you as she mumbled something about David, Jungkook could tell she wasn't impressed with what had unfolded a few nights before.

"Bye Josh, I'll see you next week." He walked out not wanting to feel the wrath from Grace when she was in a bad mood it was best to stay out of her way but you'd been the one to cause this issue so you couldn't exactly run away from all of this.

"Jungkook can you take Areum somewhere for the day? I have deliveries to fix and Grace will be in a bad mood all day. It's better if you two get out for a while." You went to reach for your purse but he held his hand up promising that it was his treat. He'd already had it in his head where he was going to take Areum, he wanted her to see why he loved Paris so much, except for you of course since she'd already seen you for her whole life. He wanted to make her fall in love with Paris the same way he did when he was younger, even if she was a little young you were never too young to learn and love all things art. Namjoon always told him there was never a wrong age to start teaching someone the values of art.

"I was going to clean up the glass and stuff upstairs," He told you as he picked Areum up and threw her over his shoulder as though she was nothing but a doll to him.

"Thanks," You whispered in relief thinking it was one less thing that you had to worry about today. As soon as your back was turned Jungkook hurried up the stairs with your daughter and into your apartment.

"We'll swing by my hotel room so I can change and then I'll take you everywhere I can." He said as she pulled him into her room going over to the wardrobe,

"Pick something for me," She whined out with a pout on her lips. Jungkook took out his phone sending a bunch of options to Taehyung since he was the one with the best style but instead of texting back he simple video called Jungkook. Panic washed over Jungkook as he realised he hadn't exactly told the boys yet that he knew he had a daughter so now he was going to be stuck between a rock and a hard place. He answered the call and Taehyung began talking right away,

"Why do you have girls-" Taehyung stopped himself when he saw the small Jungkook look-alike sitting behind Jungkook on the bed. The boys all knew he was in Paris by now and it didn't take a genius to put two and two together. They knew about the love he had for you in Paris, how he'd been away for four years so it was simple math to work out.

"Y/n had-" He started but couldn't finish,

"Yes..." Jungkook already knew what was coming so he braced himself for the sudden yelling that would be filling the air.

"I'm an uncle!" Taehyung cried out loudly enough that Yeontan jumped up from the space behind him.

"Yep," Taehyung began to tear up as he looked at the young girl realising that she was the spitting image of Jungkook.

"Dad, who's this?" Areum questioned staring into the phone at Taehyung who was already tearing up but now fully crying as he heard her call him dad. Taehyung's mind was racing with questions about how long Jungkook had known about this, what was going to happen to know that he was seeing his daughter.

"I need a moment!" The phone was placed down to face the ceiling and soon Jimin's head popped into the frame ready to question what was happening since he'd just seen Taehyung crying. But as soon as he saw Areum his eyes widened and he stared up in the room.

"NAMJOON!" He screamed making Jungkook groan out he just wanted fashion advice, not a lecture from Namjoon about this and how it could be bad news.

"She's yours? Did you know? Are you sure?" Jungkook sighed not wanting to get into this right now when he was trying to spend time with Areum. It was very clear that Areum was his from the look of them.

"I didn't know until I got here...I'm being careful, no one has seen me and I'll call our manager later and straighten things out-" Jungkook tried to explain but Namjoon cut him off shortly,

"Is she after money?" Jungkook's stomach flipped to anger as Namjoon questioned you like that, you'd never wanted anything from Jungkook. You hated when he used to pay for your food so you doubted you wanted something else from him. Especially since you hadn't even reached out to tell Jungkook that you were pregnant after he left you.

"She's not like that, Areum and Y/n don't need help." Areum looked at the screen and Namjoon felt his heart swell at the sight of her, she was a ringer for Jungkook it was clear he was her father.

"Be careful, I'll talk to Manager Sejin first and I'll probably come out to see you-"

"We all will!" Taehyung sobbed out as he cut Namjoon short. He came back onto the screen advising what Areum should wear, deciding on a red poodle skirt, with a white and black striped shirt.

"Does she have a beret?" Taehyung asked as he stared at Jungkook who seemed a little lost on what a beret actually was so Areum handed him one of hers. Jungkook held up a black on and Taehyung nodded clapping his hands together.

"She'll look great, I have to go...Jimin's crying now." Jungkook laughed turning to Areum who told him to wait,

"Goodbye Uncle Taehyung!" Another choked sob left Taehyung as he turned to go and comfort a crying Jimin Jungkook started laughing and helping Areum change into her outfit.

"Grace please I'm an adult who can make her own decisions, David was an arse-" You were going to call him an Arsehole when the tiny sound of your daughter running down the stairs made you stop speaking altogether.

"MUMMY!" You turned to see Areum racing towards you in her outfit, twirling around as she showed you her plaited hair that Jungkook had done for her. With the help of a youtube video and your daughter telling him how to do it with which strand of hair.

"Uncle Taehyung picked out my outfit," Your heart sank as you looked up at Jungkook, they knew she existed now? Were you supposed to be happy about that? Your heart was torn at yelling him for showing her off but then you thought about how close he and the boys were, you'd seen it on the videos you'd watched of them together. He probably had to tell them sooner or later and it was better they found out while they weren't in Paris.

"I'm going to take her to my hotel so I can change and then we'll be out of your hair for the day." You thanked him again for it and Areum began pulling him towards the doors wanting to get on with her adventures with her father.

"As I was saying, I'm an adult Grace I can make decisions by myself-" You tried to start again but Grace wasn't going to stand for it. She slammed her walking stick down onto the ground as she stared up at you, an angry look written across her face.

"Really? Because ever since he showed back up you've been acting like a teenager in love all over again," You stared at her as she picked up her walking stick from the floor as she tried to make her way out of the shop, you went to steady out your hands for her but she slapped them away.

"Grace Jungkook is her father-"

"And you're still in love with him, you will make rash decisions when it comes to him I know but you have to think it through. Is he really what's best for you and Areum or are you just living out your fantasy life?" The question hurt more than you probably thought she meant it to and she walked out as you stared at the floor. Tears rushing to your eyes as you realised she was right you were hopelessly still in love with Jungkook, there was nothing in this world that could make you not love him and you knew that he had influence over everything you did. Maybe it was one of the reasons you never left Paris because you knew he'd come back one day.

"Shit," You mumbled hearing the door to the shop open you brushed the tears off your face and headed out to see a small girl in a black hoodie, she was looking around as if she was hunting for something.

"Bonjour-" You could already tell by the look on her face that she was confused with French so you switched to English quickly to make it easier for her.

"Hi! Welcome to Grace's, can I help you with anything?" You questioned sweetly trying to act as though you hadn't just been crying, she looked at you and then around the shop again as if she was looking for someone else to be there.

"I lost my sister, I thought maybe she might have come here...She's about four years old and she's with her dad," You sighed sadly as you looked at her,

"I haven't seen her, want me to call someone for you? Maybe your mum? Or your dad?" You turned your back on her to reach for your phone but when you turned back around she was walking out of the door, attached to her bag was a pinky bunny you knew too well. Cooky. It had to have been a coincidence, no one knew he was here...He was always so careful. But the thought of her saying a four-year-old girl with her dad lingered in your mind.

Areum was holding onto Jungkok tightly as he pulled her through the crowds of people surrounding them. It had been such a peaceful morning which was now ruined by everyone screaming at them.

"Who is the little girl!? Is she your daughter?!" It was a mixture of both reporters and fans who were all crowding around Jungkook and demanded answers from him but he picked Areum up not wanting her to get lost in the crowd. He clutched onto her tightly, ducking his head down as they made their way out.

"Come on-" He whispered to her as he tried to move as quickly as he could without hurting her or anyone else around them.

"What's going on daddy?" He held her close to his chest rushing out of the Louvre and down the roads towards some cabs that were waiting, he paid them extra to run around for a bit just to lose everyone that was chasing after him.He didn't even know where to begin explaining this all to Areum so he ignored her questioning, telling her it was just a misunderstanding.

The door to the shop burst open, Jungkook was panting heavily with Areum by his side. She'd lost her small beret and had a scared look across her face.

"W-What's going on?" He passed Areum to you as he turned to lock the door with your key, your eyes travelled behind him to see an army of reporters and fans rushing towards the shop. The girl that had been there that morning was with them, you panicked looking back at Jungkook.

"Upstairs, quick!" Areum rushed towards the staircase, crying heavily as she ran into the apartment. You shut the door to the shop locking it as quickly as you could before rushing to join Jungkook and Areum upstairs.

"What happened? Why is Areum crying?" She sprinted into her room as she slammed the door behind her, you turned to look at Jungkook who already looked terrified of the fact that you were angry with him. The fact that your daughter was crying and ignoring you killed you inside, you'd always been close to one another and told each other everything that was bothering you.

"You told me you'd be careful! How did they find you? Is this why there was a fangirl in here earlier?!" He went to reach out to take your hands to calm you down but being calm out of the picture completely. You were completely and utterly mad with Jungkook for being stupid enough to get caught. The whole time you'd been together four years ago you'd never once been spotted together.

"She's four, she's not going to understand why people are crowding around her-" There was shouting coming from outside the balcony door, you walked over to shut it looking down at the crowds of people demanding answers from Jungkook just like you were but unlike them. You deserved the answers. You deserved to know how he'd gotten caught and what he planned to do about it now that it was out in the open.

"I was walking around Louvre with her, someone must have spotted me because one by one people kept coming up until there was a crowd of them. I got Areum out as soon as I could, I didn't let her get close to anyone." Your eyes rolled back as you thought about him doing something like this, being so careless when there was a child involved and it was his child.

"I told you to be careful, I should have known this would happen! She's a child!" You yelled out as you threw your hands up in the air,

"Fuck what was I thinking on letting you get this close to her?!" You screamed falling down on the sofa you placed your head in your hands as you stared up at him.

"I have every right to be in her life, be close to her. They're apart of my life out there-"

"Well, what if I don't want that part of it to be in her life! This is exactly why I didn't tell you when I knew I was pregnant!" He froze in place as the words left your mouth. Your heart broke as soon as you saw the look on his face, it looked as though someone had just kicked a puppy right in front of him.

"You knew you were pregnant when I was leaving?" You nodded at him finding no reason to lie to him now, it was true the day he left you knew and you were planning on telling him you were pregnant until everything about his life came undone. Revealing who he was and how he'd been hiding from you the entire summer. That fight was still clear in your head as though you'd had it just yesterday.

"You knew and you didn't tell me?!" You stared at him shaking your head it wasn't any of his business anymore. If you knew or not he hid something from you too. There wasn't a big deal.

"I don't want you near Areum anymore...You need to leave, you can go out of the back door to avoid the media circus but you're not-" You went to tell him he wasn't allowed to see her anymore when he cut you off.

"I'll take you to court! You can't keep her from me, she's my daughter too!" You ignored him staring down at the table as you waited for him to leave, he groaned slamming the door behind him as he walked out. Slamming the rest of the doors as he left. Areum was still locked in her room crying heavily,

"A-Areum. I'll be upstairs okay?" She said nothing in response to you except for a broken cry so you walked over to your door going up to the apartment above you and heading inside. Everything was still the same as it was before. Everything still reminded you of him and your time you spent together there, you sunk to the floor bringing your knees into your chest as you started to cry.

MASTERLIST || PREVIOUS || NEXT

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @fan-ati--c @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @bisexualmess007 @innersooya @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @neverthefirstchoice�� @jikooksgirl19 @jungkooksseuphoria @queenmasterxx @oosnapitskat @janieooo @preciouschimine @koremis @keijilovebot @silscintilla @mayafravoli

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sunlightxing · 3 years

Text

Show Me Some Respect

After working for years as a secretary to General Hux aboard the ship, the Finalizer, life could not have been better for you.

That was until Hux informed you that Commander Kylo Ren would be joining you on that ship. Almost immediately, you both resent each other, but after being forced to spend more alone time with him, you begin to wonder, what's so bad about him after all?

Tags on A03 Include:

-Force Choking (Star Wars)

-Fluff and Smut

-Face-Fucking

-Not How the Force is Used

-Armitage Hux Needs a Hug

-Kylo Ren is an asshole

-Y/N Makes Poor Choices

-Praise Kink

-Choking

-Cum-Eating

-Orgasm Delay/Denial

-Sexual Tension

-Sexual Abuse

-Y/N Goes Through A Lot

-Murder

-Possessive Kylo Ren

-Protective Armitage Hux

-Kylo and Hux Get Along Maybe Twice

Chapter 1: Do As He Says

A dread filled morning takes you by suspense when your boss, General Hux, riddles you with nothing but fear for your first encounter with the menacing, Commander Kylo Ren.

A/N: Hello to readers here on tumblr. I’m a little new to posting original work (especially writing) on here so bear with me as I figure it all out! I hope you enjoy my first ever Kylo Ren X Reader story (I dont use y/n cause I don’t like it, my deepest apologies)

Why’d you leave us?

A faint voice called out to you in the distance, so soft and silky, daintily whispering to you. Despite the initial faintness, it slowly began to get closer and closer, its volume ever increasing.

Your eyes fluttered open, but the bright sun blinded them, causing you to seal them shut once more. Eventually, they adjusted to the light, and you opened them to see so many large, and bare trees stretching towards the sky above you. White speckles, snow, were falling all around you, some flakes even landing on your nose.

It felt oddly peaceful, the soft moss around you feeling more comfortable than your own bed. It encased around you, smothering you with warmth and comfort. You kept your eyes shut, and felt yourself seconds from falling asleep on the slightly snow-covered ground. For just a moment, your reopened your eyes, getting one more view of your surrounding before drifting off. But then, to your horror, you saw that the ground next to you was completely covered in blood.

Your eyes widened in fear as you jolted away from your spot on the ground, and pushed yourself up against a nearby tree. The voice in the distance was coming closer towards you, and kept roaring louder and louder. The blood on the ground began to expand, seeping through the moss at an alarming rate. It surrounded the entire area around you, except directly where you were sitting.

As you glanced back up at the sky, the snow, which had now transformed into an icy hail, had begun to take on an even stranger form. In its image, flashes of their faces blew past you, and with it, followed the sound of their screams and cries. Pleading for help, for you to save them. The smell of burning wood wafted into your nostrils, and that voice in the distance was still growing louder. You knew that soon, it would be upon you.

"Wake up, wake up. Please fucking wake up!"

In a jolt of cold sweats, you gasped back to reality, frantically scanning the area around you to make sure it was safe.

"Just a dream, it was just a dream."

Your breath was sporadic, leaving you a panting and anxious mess as you pulled yourself out of bed. Even the smallest movement caused a massive amount of pain surge to through your head.

"I can't take another one of those nightmares." You thought, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand. You looked over at your clock groggily, and your heart sank upon seeing that you had overslept, giving you little to no time to prepare for the day.

The shower water was freezing when you initially turned it on, per usual. It always felt embarrassing to have to stand outside the door, completely nude, occasionally dangling your finger under the water to see if it had heated up yet.

Over 3 years ago you began working as a secretary to General Hux, and though there was a monstrous amount of glitz and glam thought to come with such a job, it couldn't have been more painfully annoying.

Sure, Hux was somewhat kind and caring towards you, but every other person you pitifully encountered treated you like shit. They'd throw their fits when you wouldn't deliver their papers, shine their boots, tasks they very easily could've done themselves, but simply refused. It wasn't the most difficult job in the world, despite the constant hazing. However, their was a shocking increase in secretaries amongst the First Order. It was most definitely due to the jobs incredible bore-ability, and the fact whoever was placed in such a position would be treated like garbage by everyone they encountered.

You rushed through your shower, only using the time to wash your hair and then yourself. The steam from the hot water had fogged your mirror, which made it hard for you to see your hair when putting it up into two long french braids. You pulled a few strands out in the front, trying to look somewhat nice since your uniform sure didn't help. It was a shapeless, olive green suit, with baggy pants, and thick, heavy boots. The hat that came along with it also wasn't very flattering, but it wasn't like anyone saw you other than your crewmates, and General Hux.

You took another swig from your cup of water as you stared out your glass window and into the infinite galaxy. Your brain decided to alert you of how Hux would be ridiculously pissed off if you were late, as today was one of the days you dreaded most of all since you began working on the Finalizer. The ship would be making its way back to Starkiller base, and you were anything but excited for that.

Several technicians raced by you, heading off to fix some malfunction in the interior of the ship. You always looked at them and wondered if they enjoyed their jobs here, or if, just like you, it was a love-hate relationship.

You entered the control room, staring the other programmers and pilots plugging away at their stations. Though they didn't technically fly the Finalizer, their work was incredibly important. You liked to think yours was important as well, but in reality, it was pointless. Technically, you were Huxs' right hand. As a result, he told you practically anything and everything. So it was more like you were a glorified therapist that followed him around like a lost pet.

"Cadet," a voice said behind you. General Hux was standing at the entrance to the control room, looking a lot more frazzled than usual. "Will you walk with me for a moment?"

You nodded, following closely behind him. Unlike usual, you decided to keep your mouth shut, hoping he would start to explain why he looked so disheveled and unnerved, but he didn't say a word. It was becoming harder to not acknowledge how his body trembled intensely with ever step he took.

"General, if I may ask, is everything alright?" You questioned sweetly, trying not to sound disrespectfully intrusive.

Hux let out a heavy sigh, stopping for a moment to rest against a nearby wall. "I am, not alright," he panted, his voice shaking more than his body was. "When we arrive at Starkiller base, you're going to have to meet The Commander, and I already know you two will not get along."

Your face recoiled as you began to dig into the back of your mind. "Did he mean Commander Ren? That stubborn brute?" You laughed to yourself, while Hux was seconds from engaging in a panic attack.

"This is no laughing matter cadet!" He hollered, his voice nearly cracking at every syllable.

You let out a long sigh. "Hux, I can deal with Kylo Ren. He doesn't scare me at all."

"He should scare you," Hux stated plainly. "My last secretary, before you. He made one simple mistake, and Ren saw to it that the poor boy was eradicated."

Your eyes grew wide with fear, darting away from his gaze so he couldn't see the horror on your face. Hux said it plain as day, if you made so much as one, small mistake, Commander Ren would personally see to it that you were eradicated as well.

Hux groaned. "We both work for the same Supreme Leader, which means I have to work with him." His breathing patterns began to grow more heavy and frantic, and his face flushed with a vibrant red.

You tried to calm him down, as you knew the ship couldn't make the entire flight back without his orders. The two of you had gotten rather close, and you had a lot of respect for him. He'd come in some days looking like he'd seen a ghost, and you wouldn't have been shocked if he had. If the Commander managed to make Hux, your boss, that anxious, you knew this couldn't be good.

After what seemed like seconds, you had arrived at your destination. Just the sight of Starkiller base sent shivers down your spine.

Sure, you'd been their plenty of times, but you never had to willingly interact with the Commander before. In fact, you'd never so much as seen the smallest fragment of his figure. Which would make his reveal all the more terrifying.

As you approached the landing bay, the large metal doors began to open to allow your entrance in. Hux came up behind you, his posture had been perfected, and all expression on his face had been wiped. He looked like a whole new man, and you weren't sure that if you wanted to get on the Commander's good side, you'd have to become a whole new woman.

"The Commander would like us both to meet with him in his quarters before he joins us onboard." Hux said, his voice shaking. You nodded as you took one more look at the hull of the control room, not sure if it was your last.

The pair of you made your way from the control room, to the landing bay. A small craft would take you from the Finalizer to the bay on Starkiller, but you wanted nothing more than just to stay put. There were ways where you could completely avoid the Commander for the entire duration he was here, you hoped. You would just have to hide in a waste bucket every time he came near Hux, and that didn't seem so bad. You groaned, glancing over at Hux as the cruiser landed rather dramatically at the center of the bay.

“Hux, he’s going to hate me, isn’t he?”

He sighed, placing an awkward arm on your shoulder, his attempt at comfort. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

As the pair of you walked down the long hallways of the Starkiller base, it felt as if you were walking to your doom. Which, in reality you probably were. Two stormtroopers had been sent to escort you from the ship to Commander Rens' quarters. They didn't say a word the entire trip to said quarters, despite Hux's several attempts.

Eventually, the four of you arrived at what you presumed to be the Commander's meeting room. The two troopers walked up to the door, placing a loud knock on it to signal their arrival, and then stationed themselves on either side of it. Hux took in a deep breath as he began typing into a small keypad attached to the entrance, and then, the door was open.

"Commander, my apologies on us being later than normal." Hux said, walking through the doorway to the meeting room.

"Oh Gods."

Commander Ren looked like nothing you had expected, though you couldn't really see all of him. He was tall, absolutely massive, his muscles practicality protruding from his sleeves. But his face, you couldn't see so much as an outline of that. Covering it was a thick, solid metal mask, breathing canal and all. He was a true Vader knock off.

He slowly turned around, a feeling of pure rage wafting off of him. For a brief moment, you were certain he was seconds from smashing Huxs' head in, but then he stopped dead in his tracks. His head titled from Huxs' body to your own. Though you couldn't see his facial expression underneath that mask, you new it was one of disgust.

"Who are you?" He asked, gesturing in your direction. You arched your eyebrows in confusion, could he not tell just by simply looking at your uniform?

"No answer?" Commander Ren scoffed.

"I'm his secretary, Commander," you stated, gesturing in Huxs' direction, "didn't you request my presence here? "

He shook his head, placing a hand on the front of that intimidating facial shield. The movement made it look as if he was gaining a headache from your small amount of talking. "This is who you had replace the old one?" Commander Ren hissed, "have you no shame, Hux?"

"Ren, she is very talented in her work and a fantastic secretary," Hux responded, glancing over in your direction. "She has made a fantastic replacement." You smiled, happy to know Hux would still show you some form of kindness around the Commander.

"Hux," Commander Ren stated, "I'll trust your judgment here." He approached Hux slowly, giving him ample time to make your poor General tremble in fear. The Commander stopped inches from his face, his mask nearly touching the tip of Huxs' nose.

"If she makes so much as one mistake, she's gone."

Your face recoiled in disgust. "Well, what the fuck?" You thought to yourself. Did he actually doubt your abilities that much? Or was this all some sort of twisted test of your competence?

The Commander darted his head around, glaring at you in rage. Your body went completely stiff as his masked gaze penetrated your mind. A trill of pain surged through your temples, like something was digging around in your brain for any scrap of information. "That language of hers will not be tolerated either." He spat, looking back at Hux.

"My what? The hell is he talking about? I have yet to swear!" Your brain was spiraling out of control, and that trill of energy still surged throughout your brain.

His ego was disgustingly immense, not to mention he was a delusional idiot. The fool was making up down right lies about you, and to wait gain? He was already addressing Hux in such a disrespectful manner, he didn't need to take it out on you as well. But what even gave him the right to talk down to Hux in such a manner? He wasn't in any better of a position to lead than the General was, not to mention the fact that Hux was a lot easier to deal with, and a lot less moronic.

Commander Ren stood in place, his body shaking violently with rage. Huxs' body was also shaking, but his was out of fear. This was the first time you'd ever seen Hux so threatened by anyone. Usually, he presented such a mass amount of authority and dictation. But here, he was nothing more than a coward.

The Commander gave you an over-the-shoulder glance, and in that moment, you felt time stop. The world around you faded into black. Now, only you and him were in that room, and fear and panic began to rapidly set in. Your body had turned chillingly cold, and air escaped you.

A flash of light hit your eyes, his leather glove reflecting off the overhead chandelier. Before you could get a warning out, he slammed his fist into the wall next to Huxs' head. His curled hand punctured the metal frame, sending hundreds of small electrical sparks flying, leaving bare and broken wires in its wake.

"You teach her to show me some respect, or I will" Commander Ren hissed, his clenched fist now inches from Huxs' face.

Hux folded onto the metal floor, panting uncontrollably as the Commander hovered menacingly above him. You stood gazing at the pair of them, completely motionless, gulping down the fear that was now lodged in your throat. Your pupils shook in horror at what you had just seen, how absolutely horrid your new ship companion was.

Commander Ren glared at you, watching as every inch of your body trembled at his presence. He scoffed, storming out of the room with a prompt slam of the door, the sheer force alone causing you to jump. You looked back at Hux, whose forehead was drenched in sweat, and a slight tremor was visible on his hands. Carefully, as not to frighten him more, you reached down for his hand, an effort to help guide him up off of the floor.

"General..." You pleaded, wrapping your hand around his own as you began to lift. Hux shook you away, pulling himself off of the ground, trying not to show weakness. It was obvious that he was embarrassed of your viewing of his encounter with Commander Ren, but he shouldn't have been. All that quarrel showed was the fact Commander Ren was a prissy little bitch, and tyrant.

Hux dusted off his long coat, and smoothed back his red hair to its original, kept manner. He bit his lip, holding himself back from lashing out against anything the Commander had just done. You hoped he would do it anyway, give you some sort of hint that he too hated Commander Rens guts. But instead, he stared intensely at the door, his eyes becoming bloodshot with rage.

"If you want to make it out of here alive," Hux gulped, "you must to do as he says."

You scoffed in disbelief. "Hux you cannot possibly believe that," you cried. "He isn't as high and mighty as he claims to b-"

Hux slammed his hand over your mouth, his bare fingers tracing over the lining of your lips. His eyes stared painfully into your own, showing so much fear and uncertainty. "I told you to do as he says!" He hollered, the veins in his neck protruding from his already rose colored flesh. Hux removed his hand from over your mouth, and with another brush of his cape, he was gone out the doorway too, much less dramatically than the Commander.

You turned around, looking at the meeting room remorsefully. Your life had just flipped completely upside down, and you know now that you had no say in anything that would happen to it. Hux obviously wasn't going to be any help in standing up against Commander Rens' tyranny, so it looked like you were on your own.

And you hated being on your own.

You walked back to the ship with shane covering your entire body. Every person who passed by you, whether it was a technician or a stormtrooper, seemed to be mocking you. While that wasn't at all the case, Commander Rens' doubt of your capabilities made it seem like everyone else doubted them as well.

As you turned a corner, so flustered and furious you didn't even know what planet you were on, another secretary slammed into you, spilling an incredibly hot and sticky liquid all over your uniform. "Oh my Gods, I am so sorry!" The girl whimpered, reaching for a cloth towel at her side to try and help dry you off.

You clenched your jaw tightly, worried all your rage might come flying out at her. She looked to be so incredibly overworked and stressed, just like you were about to be. You wondered if she had ever dealt with Commander Ren, or maybe her own General was just as terrible as he was, though you doubted that was humanly possible. You hated to admit it as much as the next person, but the treatment of secretaries, especially those that were female, could not have been more horrendous. Every one you had encountered had a horror story, or was currently living through one. Thankfully, your first job was with someone like Hux, a lot more patient and caring than any other. Thoughts crossed your mind of how awful your life would've been if your first job was to Commander Ren. Just the idea alone sent shivers down your spine.

The girl finally finished drying off the excess with a little help from you, but your clothes were soaked with whatever fluid she dumped onto you. Her eyes slowly began to swell up with tears as she stared at your ruined uniform.

"Hey," you said, taking her hand in your own. “There’s no need to cry. I'll go clean it myself, and it'll be good as new, don't worry."

She sniffled, reaching her other hand up to wipe the tears off of her face. Never could you have managed to snap at that girl, because you knew exactly what kind of suffering she was going through, as you had just dealt with the worst of it all. The girl hugged you in gratitude before scurrying back to wherever she came from, getting a replacement for the drink she had dropped. You took in a deep breath as you dreadfully looked down at your tarnished gown. Starkiller base was not somewhere you were familiar with, so finding a washroom was going to be far greater task than it should have been.

For what seemed like hours, you scanned each and every room across the vastness of the ship, hoping to finally find an area for you to clean off your soiled uniform. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched a stormtrooper exit a room with a fully washed, black undergarment, and you knew you had finally found your sought for destination. Rushing into the room, you hoped no one else would be inside, so you could quickly rip off your uniform and wash it without anyone seeing you in nothing but a bra and underwear.

Thankfully, no one was inside the washroom, giving you ample time to strip practically nude, and lock the door behind you as to not allow anyone to barge in.

Staring blankly at the machine that scrubbed and cleansed your attire, the chill of the empty room you sat in was beginning to sting your bare skin, your hair sticking up and goosebumps forming across every inch of it.

The process could not have taken any longer, but finally, it was washed, and ready to be moved to the next machine for drying. Minutes passed by as you sat in the cold and ever darkening room, rubbing up against the warm drying machine periodically as to not die of hypothermia.

"For God's sake, can you just hurry up!" You cried, slamming your foot against the machine, hoping that would throw it into a faster gear.

It did no good, the machine kept carrying on at its slow pace, causing nothing but agony and frustration on your part. You groaned, flopping back into the chair you had been sitting in, only for it to crumble into a hundred tiny pieces as you flopped yourself onto it.

"Mother fucker!" You groaned, lifting yourself off of the cold, metal floor. A bruise was clearly about to form upon your ass after that downfall.

"Language, cadet. That mouth will get you nowhere."

You spun around quickly, leaving your bra-covered breasts completely exposed to the eyes of Commander Ren, who now stood perfectly centered at the entrance of the washroom, the door closed behind him. Your eyes jolted to the lock that was now unfastened on the doorway, yet upon making eye contact, it clicked back into a locked position. Looking down, you noticed Commander Rens' finger was out of place from the rest of his clenched fist, and though at first you had no idea how he managed to weasel his way in here, now you did.

"The force?" You questioned in the back of your mind, watching the pointer finger retreat back to its clenched position.

His head tilted down, obviously showing his gaze had shifted from your eyes, to your almost fully naked body. You covered as much of yourself as you could, feeling completely flustered that so much of you was exposed to his eyes.

"What?" You asked. "Planning on insulting me again? Just get out."

"You're hung up on that?" He questioned, letting a small chuckle escape his throat. "I could have said so much worse."

You rolled your eyes at him, now hoping to make him so angry he would storm out like he did before. "Good for you, Commander. I'm sure you could've."

Silence reigned in the room longer than you would've preferred it to. You had hoped he would make some ridiculous, insulting statement so you could fire back at it, but he was silent.

"Do you mind?" You questioned, tilting your head towards the doorway so he could take the hint to leave.

"The ship was supposed to depart exactly 17 seconds ago," he remarked, keeping his gaze on your chest area, "Hux was going to be sent after you, if I didn't choose to."

You curled your lip sarcastically, letting out a small laugh along with it. "Well thank you so much for that, sir," you said sarcastically, again, gesturing towards the door in hopes that he would leave.

There was a long pause, giving you time to reflect on what he had just said. He would've had no knowledge your uniform had been soiled, tarnished by that poor girls dropped beverage.

So how the fuck did he know you were here?

He stood motionless. The only noise he exuded was the almost asthmatic breathing sounds from his mask. "Finish whatever task this is." Commander Ren instructed, finally moving his gaze away from your body.

He turned to the doorway, giving you a final glance before opening the door, and exiting the room. You stared at the metal frame in disbelief, the fact the Commander had just seen you in arguably your most venerable state was horrifying and embarrassing.

A slight movement on the door caught your attention, as the knob shifted back to its locked position. "Jeez, how kind of him," you scolded, turning back to the dryer that had finally finished its job, of course, right after the Commander had left.

After unlocking the door to the washroom, adorning your freshly cleaned uniform, you sprinted down the halls towards the bay. Thankfully, there wasn't a line of people standing outside the washroom waiting to use it themselves. For if they had seen the Commander in there with you, things would have just gotten so much more complicated.

You marched down the halls, now thinking about how ridiculously awkward your next several months of encounters with the Commander would be, now that your second meeting with him was when you were practically naked.

“Gods. This day cannot get any worse."

#star wars #kylo ren #ben solo #adam driver #kylo x you #kylo x reader #general hux #love triangle #smut #star wars fluff #sequels #stormtrooper #x reader

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hutchhitched · 4 years

Text

What You Deserve, What You Need, What You Want

Written by: @hutchhitched

Prompt 109: Dialogue prompt: “I deserve better than this!” [submitted by @xerxia31]

Ratings/Warnings: E

A/N: I’m continuing to post the nine @everlarkficexchange prompts I took and then sat on throughout the early months of the pandemic. This is the seventh of the nine. Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy. Huge thanks to @javistg for understanding the delays. Better get myself in gear to finish the last two before the next round starts!

“I deserve better than this!”

Katniss nods and pats her sister on the back. “You do, and you should say it.”

“I just did. You clearly weren’t listening.”

Prim grins at her sister, and they continue scrubbing the walls of the house Prim and her husband just purchased. Katniss really can’t believe her little sister is married, especially at the young age of 22, but Prim has always been the one who’s gotten what she wants while Katniss…

Well, if anyone deserves better than this, Katniss thinks it might be her.

“When’s your husband getting here? I thought he wasn’t going to make us do all the work. That’s clearly not the case as evidenced by my arm that’s about to fall off.”

Letting her limb drop, Katniss sits down heavily on the hardwood floor. It’s stripped and rough, ready for a good sanding and polish to make it glow like new. Right now, though, it’s rather anemic looking with blonde wood that seems old and faded. Or maybe that’s just how Katniss feels about herself. Old and faded, always in the shadow of her baby sister who everyone’s continuously adored and coddled.

It’s not that Prim’s ever taken advantage of it either. She’s as sweet and kind and generous as they come. It’s just the phenomenon that things have a tendency of working out for the younger Everdeen sibling that Katniss would envy if she didn’t love her sister so much. Still, she’s tired—drained from working hard and scraping by, exhausted from the mental toll of keeping everything together for so long when she shouldn’t have had to, and weary from hoping and wishing and being disappointed repeatedly. It sucks, and it’s not fair, but that’s reality for Katniss and Prim Everdeen.

Except Prim isn’t an Everdeen anymore. She’s married now with her husband’s name, and Katniss is the lonely older sister who hasn’t dated anyone for the past six years. If she sees one more person look at her with pity, she might have to scream.

“Ah, there’s my gorgeous husband now,” Prim says, her face beaming at the sight of her man. “Hey, honey. Missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” comes the reply, and Katniss cringes as she climbs to her feet. It’s not her ex-boyfriend, but it’s close enough. Rory Hawthorne is the spitting image of his handsome older brother who happens to be the last man Katniss let get her naked. It’s been an embarrassingly long time since she’s gone to bed with someone. She’s hurtling headlong into her sexual prime, and nothing. Not a potential to be found.

“Well, if it isn’t Catnip Everdeen! As I live and breathe.”

Katniss turns slowly to see Gale Hawthorne standing in the door, framed by sunlight and looking like a moody Greek god. Her body betrays her, and she can feel her reaction course through her veins. She forces herself to play nice and nods in his direction.

“Oh, come on,” he teases. “I can’t get a hug and a kiss from an old flame and my current sister-in-law? We’re family now. Where’s the love?”

Katniss stands woodenly as Gale embraces her and kisses her on the cheek. It’s awkward as hell, but Gale’s never been able to read the room well when he’s already made up his mind. She tenses as a ruckus sounds outside, and it’s not long before a handful of men pour into the house. They’re all tall and varying stages of broad, and every one of them is dressed as some version of a cool-kid-construction-worker.

“What are you? Part of a new boy band? Performing covers for the Village People?”

Rory steps between them. “Hey! Truce. This is my house, and you’re upsetting my wife. Knock it off.”

All the men hoot and holler, catcalling Gale and, by extension, her except for one who slinks along the outside of the room. He seems embarrassed by the toxic masculinity, and he brushes his hair off his forehead in a riot of ashy blonde curls. Katniss likes him immediately.

“And I deserve that,” Katniss says in a stage whisper to her sister as she nods her head. “Who’s he, and why haven’t I been introduced?”

Prim calls to the room. “Calm yourselves, boys. Meet my sister, Katniss. Katniss, these are the guys. You know Gale, and these three are Thom and Darius and Rye. The one over there is Rye’s brother Peeta. He’s the well-behaved one. Maybe you can help him today. You don’t deserve any of these other guys. They’ll only make you question your life choices and swear off men for good.”

Katniss waves at them all, showing her annoyance at their behavior in her tight smile. Giving each of them a wide berth, she crosses the room and approaches Peeta. “Nice to meet you,” she says, and he flashes her a smile that, in tandem with his cerulean blue eyes, makes her knees weak. Oh yes, she definitely deserves better, and he just might be it.

“Nice to meet you, too, Katniss,” he answers in a voice that makes her want to strip down and let him have his way with her. His voice isn’t just sexy; it’s absolutely scandalous.

She swallows her arousal and asks as casually as she can, “You need any help? I hear you’re the only one here who won’t sexualize me.”

He chuckles, and she contemplates selling her soul to the devil for a shot with him. She’s never been attracted to someone this intensely in such a short amount of time. It’s actually quite unnerving for someone like her who’s fairly shy and quiet and aloof.

“Well, I can’t promise I won’t fall for you by the end of the day, but I’ll do my best.” When he winks at her, she vows to make it happen. She has no idea how, but she’s got a few hours to figure it out.

They spend the afternoon together sanding and painting. If she brushes against him multiple times, he doesn’t seem to mind. When he brackets her in his arms as she holds a section of drywall, she leans back against him. His chest is hard behind her, and she breathes in his scent. He’s a glorious combination of clean sweat and cinnamon from what must be his aftershave. He laughs at her jokes and entertains her with stories of his own. She’s never been great at making friends, but it’s so easy with him. At one point, she catches Prim’s eye as the afternoon slides into evening, and her sister winks at her.

As the sun sets, things wind down. One by one, Rory and Prim’s friends say goodbye and make their respective exits. Gale seems to want to linger, but Rory and Prim remind him they’re spending the night at his place and insist they need showers before they treat him to dinner. He’s not very happy about it, but her ex-boyfriend leaves after giving her a suspicious look that makes her want to stick out her tongue at him. Katniss promises to lock the door behind her when she leaves, and then she and Peeta are alone with the house quiet around them. There’s a sudden strain between them that makes her squirm. After the ease of the day, the isolation is a little awkward, so she figures she might as well ease the tension with a lame joke.

“Well, now that we’re alone…” Peeta chuckles and gives her a lopsided grin. She worries her knees will give out as the power of it hits her, so she leans heavily against the newly spackled section of the wall.

“I had a really nice time working with you. When Rory asked me to help today, I didn’t think—” He breaks off and ducks his head as his face and neck redden.

Laughing at his bashfulness, she asks, “You didn’t think what? You’re awfully cute with pink cheeks, by the way, so you might as well go ahead and tell me.”

“I didn’t think I’d be matched up with someone so pretty.” She ducks her head, not used to flattery. “I just had a really, really good day. I was due for one or two of those. Really needed it.”

“Well, I’m glad I could give you what you needed.”

The air’s charged with electricity, and she raises her eyes to look at him. His are hooded, pupils dilated, as he stares at her. She has the sudden realization that she’s alone with someone she barely knows, and he’s looking at her like she’s a snack for him to devour.

“I wonder,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “I wonder if you could.”

“If I could what?”

This isn’t supposed to happen to her. She’s never been this lucky in anything and definitely not this fortunate in relationships. Yet, somehow, he’s here with her and seems to want what she’s just realizing might be possible. He walks toward her slowly, licking his lips as he does, and stops so close that she can feel his body heat.

“If you could give me what I really need.”

Her throat’s dry, and she gives a tiny squeak when she tries to speak. He lifts his hand to brush away the stray tendrils of hair that escaped from her braid as they worked. His fingertips sweep lightly across her cheek, and his thumb strokes along her bottom lip. She wants to suck on it.

“I thought you promised not to fall for me.”

“Oh, no,” he argued. “In fact, I think I promised exactly the opposite—that I couldn’t promise not to. Now, the question remains. Can you?”

“Give you what you really need?”

“And will you?”

“I’d like to try,” she whispers. “I really would.”

“I think you’re the type that really tries.” His voice is husky and deep, and she shivers when his breath ghosts across her neck. “In fact, I think you’re the kind of woman who believes in trying multiple times until she’s sure everyone is perfectly satisfied. Am I right?”

Katniss squeaks again, unable to answer right away. He strokes her arm slowly, brushing up and down and grazing the side of her breast. She’s positive he knows exactly what he’s doing to her.

“Satisfaction’s the goal,” she finally croaks.

He crushes into her then, his body full and tight against hers as he pushes her into the wall and kisses her like a man possessed. His mouth is hot and wet and perfect. His tongue sweeps along hers, massages and plundering so deeply she can only gasp and respond in kind. He’s everywhere—his scent, his arms and hands and chest, his soft moans catching in the back of his throat, heat leaching from his skin. It’s too much and not nearly enough. It’s overwhelming, but she wants every speck of it.

There’s an old couch in the back room, and Peeta lifts her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and carries her to it. He lays her out on it without breaking the kiss and settles in between her legs. Bucking upward, she whimpers at the friction. He’s solid and heavy, and she basks in the weight. Anxiety bleeds from her, and she sighs into the kiss.

“Katniss,” he whispers, her word a sermon of longing and awe.

“I don’t ever do this,” she answers, her eyes closed and breath uneven. When he makes a move to pull back, she threads her fingers through his hair. “No, don’t stop.”

Peeta grunts in response and sucks the spot at the hinge of her jaw. His hands are all over her. Long fingers, massive palms, and blunt fingernails that knead, warming her skin and pushing her closer to the edge. He rucks up her shirt, and she shivers as he slides down her body and laves at the skin there. When his hand runs up the bare skin of her inner thigh, she moans lustily and considers begging him for more.

“Take this off,” he requests, his tone polite and gentle, but there’s an underlying authority that makes her want to obey. He helps her to upright and watches as she tugs her tank top over her head. When’s she free, he caresses her torso before reaching behind her to unlatch her bra. Squirming under his scrutiny, she’s vulnerable, but he takes care as he fiddles with her waistband and then shoves her shorts down her legs. She’s left with nothing but a scrap of peach silk between her legs. “You have no idea the effect you have, do you? No clue how crazy you drove me all day today in your little bitty clothes. Are you a tease, Katniss, or are you that unaware how beautiful you are?”

“I’m not—”

“You are, and tonight you get what you deserve. What you need. What you want so much you don’t even know how to say it, but I know because I want it, too.”

His hand is between her legs, his fingers brushing aside the fabric, his thumb pressing on her clit, his palm cupping her heat. She can’t think, and that’s exactly what she wants. She deserves to feel good; she needs someone to help with that, and she wants it to be him.

“Please.” The word echoes in the air between them, shimmering with longing.

His face is between her legs, buried in her pussy, licking and sucking at her swollen lips. She twists under him, desperate to get away at the same time she wants to grind into his mouth and let him make her break. She cries out, overwhelmed at how quickly she’s wet. Her shins are on his shoulders, her legs bent so he can lick deeper into her, and she can’t do anything but enjoy it. She’s helpless to resist him, not that she’d want to try.

She doesn’t. He’s too good at it. His mouth is fire, devouring her like it’s his only job—to be put on earth and eat her out. Not only doesn’t she last, it’s shockingly fast. When he curls his tongue into her and then sucks her clit so hard she sees stars, she arches and allows warm honey to ooze through her. Thrashing under him, she doesn’t try to stay quiet or still. There’s no way when he’s so good at this anyway. When she melts into the cushions, he sits up and grins at her with a wet chin and a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“These panties are completely ruined,” he murmurs and tears them in two. When she groans, he pulls them free and trails them over her heated skin. “You feel that? Sopping wet. That’s all you, sweetheart. All of that wetness is you telling me how good I make you feel. I bet we can both keep going, though. Don’t you think?”

She doesn’t trust herself to speak, so she merely nods and then watches in appreciation as he unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it over his shoulders. Miles of smooth, honeyed pink skin is bared for her, and she licks her lips eagerly. He stands and unbuckles his belt, putting on a show for her. Cheeky and a tiny bit cocky, he shifts his hips until he springs free. He’s hard and long and thick and ready, and she wants it.

“Flip over,” he says. “Get up on your hands and knees.”

She does, quivering in anticipation and hisses when he spreads her cheeks and rubs his cock against her. It’s torture not being able to see him, but she can hear the tear of a foil packet before he’s pressing against her, his blunt head probing her entrance. Impatient, she rears back, but he holds her hips firmly, easing into her and stretching her around him.

“Such a tight little pussy,” he grunts. “Perfect, and so fucking wet. Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Tell me everything. Let me give it to you. Take what you deserve.”

She wails his name. She needs him inside, and he has to move. He has to. She’s going to die if he doesn’t. She’s never been good at dirty talk, but he pushes a button that lets it pour forth. Her requests are filthy, lewd, and debased, but he fulfills every single request.

She can’t remember the last time someone fucked her quite like this, but that’s what this is. He’s in charge, and she’s merely along for the ride. He thrusts upward and lifts her knees off the couch with every stroke. Scrambling for purchase, she clings to the back of the couch. It’s rough and dirty and quick, and she screams when he reaches around and rubs her clit furiously. Her arms give, and he holds her aloft as he slams into her repeatedly.

She crests another wave when he finally comes, pouring into the condom while her walls grip and flutter around him. They fall into a tangled heap with him slumped over her. Sweaty and panting for breath, she can’t move. He’s still inside her, hot and spent but not quite soft. She never wants him to move again.

“You never do this, huh?” he finally groans. “You sure seem to know what you’re doing.”

Katniss giggles, the action so unfamiliar that it startles her for a minute. But then she’s laughing, filled with mirth and relief and something that seems a little bit like hope. He joins her, his baritone melding with her treble tone to form a glorious harmony. Finally, she regains control and shifts her head so she can kiss his forehead gently.

“You’re right, and you should say it.”

“Can I get your number? I’d kinda like to see if you know how to date. I bet you’d be really good at that, too.”

Katniss grins and sighs with happiness. “I can give you my number, but you don’t need it to ask me on a date. Just do it. I’ll say yes.”

Peeta grins lazily and strokes her back. He trails his lips across her cheek to her mouth and kisses her softly. “Will you go out with me?”

“Yes,” she answers firmly. “Is tonight too soon?”

“Tonight can’t get here soon enough.”

#everlarkficexchange #springtime edition 2020 #prompt 109 #everlark fanfiction #everlark #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #what you deserve what you need

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kuroopaisen · 4 years

Text

ripples. (kita shinsuke)

➵ you take up a part-time holiday job as a miko at the local temple. little do you know, you have the same face as the woman kita once loved.

wc: 5.2k

warnings: f!reader, reincarnation!au, kitsune!au

a/n: remy my love, this one is for you! i love you so so much, and i hope this feeds your need for more inarizaki content.

A storm pelted against the wooden roof, the sound melting with the tinkle of a woman’s laughter.

An August storm, late summer, heady and heavy.

Kita used to hate weather like this; it meant that everyone else stayed inside, that the swaying fields were out of reach, that tomorrow would be stained with mud. But recently, he’s been enjoying the storms. They meant that, if she was with him, she’d stay.

She sat across from him, her long dark hair pulled behind her shoulders as she bent over the chawan. The little black bowl had seen much use, but it stood strong. In her hand was a little whisk, kneading the matcha at the bottom of the chawan.

Dark splotches under dull eyes. A vacant expression. Rehearsed, mechanical actions. A kosode arranged a little more haphazardly than usual. Her entire form was damp from running through the beginnings of the storm on her way here.

But she had a warm smile for him. She always did.

“Are you getting enough sleep?” Kita asked, straightforward as always.

She sighed as she raised her head to look at him. She was trying to smile with her eyes, but the light wasn’t quite reaching them. “I am quite fine. Thank you for your concern.”

Kita’s features softened with concern. “You do not have to be so formal.”

“Ah, well,” she smiled, returning her attention once more to the whisk. “I hope you can forgive me.”

There is nothing to forgive, he thought. But he’s sure she’d laugh at him for saying something like that.

“How’s your family?” He asked, grasping for some topic of conversation.

She nodded slowly, eyes still on the bowl. “My younger sister is engaged to be married.”

“Is this something to celebrate?”

“I’m not sure,” she sighed, the slightest of trembles in her hand. “But father is pleased with the match.”

“Rich?”

“And powerful,” she scoffed, shaking her head. “Father expects that this gentleman will be very influential in the coming months.”

Kita knew things were changing, outside his little shrine. By how much, he wasn’t sure. The human world was beyond him, a realm of blood and darkness that he didn’t quite understand. A world that hurt her. Part of him hated it for that.

“Will he expect you to get married?” The question escaped him before he could think about it.

She caught his eye, smiling. “Not as far as I know.”

He breathed out slowly.

“I can stay with you, for now,” she murmured, reaching over and placing her hand over his.

Something was wrong. Something was off. She’s tired. She’s distant.

And he was afraid.

That fear grounded him for a moment in eternity.

✧ ✧ ✧

Kita was better at handling loneliness than most. But even he suffered under the weight of four hundred years. Especially when he’d known what it meant to love.

When she passed, he had taken the time to travel. He only moved during the night, dodging humanity when and where he could. But as the years rolled on, the night began to get blotted with lights – first by fire, later by bulbs.

So, he’d crawled back to his little shrine, hiding himself away in the nooks and crevices. This was his place, and it always would be. His duty was to remain here, as something of a guardian spirit. So he would do just that, even if it brought him little enjoyment.

Sometimes, he let children catch a glimpse of him. Usually, he could mirror their joy, their wonder. But even that hadn’t been lifting his spirits as of late. He’s been reticent, perhaps even melancholic.

But he hung around the shrine anyway, letting the days ebb on into an endless eternity. It hounded him, that never-ending existence that stretched out before him. He’s wise enough to recognise the irony in a kitsune feeling existential, but he’s always felt more human than most.

Today, he made his way to the shrine, slipping through cracks under doors and the gap where wooden planks meet each other. It’s easy for him to move around in his spirit form, more a mist than a man.

He slipped into the central shrine, duty-bound as always, to accept whatever offerings had been laid forth.

He hadn’t expected what lay in wait for him.

A miko, dark hair drawn back in a ponytail and red hakama tied over a white kosode.

You were sweeping the floor, mind seemingly somewhere else. You were humming to yourself, and Kita couldn’t help but feel this was awfully familiar. Something about your shrine had the echo of what he’d seen long ago, one of the dances the miko at his shrine would perform.

The miko had made a return, apparently. In the last few decades, they’d become something of a cultural icon. A lot could change in four hundred years.

You turned around, and Kita finally caught a glimpse of your face.

He froze.

It was her face. The woman he’d loved, adored, mourned. The woman who had left such an impact on him, who had engraved herself so deeply into his very being that he still felt the ripples of his love for her all these centuries later. The woman he had spent so many stormy afternoons with, cooped up in each other’s warmth.

He was more keyed into the secrets of the universe than most, being a kitsune and all, but even he was dumbfounded.

Kita took a deep breath, settling into his fox form. You most likely wouldn’t trust some random man coming up to you and insisting that ‘yes, actually, I am the patron spirit of this place.’ But he was sure that his fox form would grant him some authority on the subject.

He padded to the centre of the room, sitting himself down on his haunches. He wasn’t really aware of it, but it was quite regal. His four tails swished around him with a slow rhythm, each one tipped with black. His pale grey fur gave off a brilliant shimmer in the sunlight that fell between the window slats, creating a real sense of grandeur as he sat there.

He stared at you for a long moment, blinking his large brown eyes.

You stared back, gormless.

Maybe he should say something—

You thrusted the broom forward, waving it in front of his snout. “Shoo!”

He jerked his head back, stunned.

Had you not noticed his tails? Did you think he was just some average fox, scuttering in from the cold? Would he have to show you his human form?

It’s worth a shot, he thought.

He transformed in a flash, body morphing into something adjacent to humanity, fur knitting itself together as an edo-style haori.

You watched him change with wide eyes, knuckles blanching as you gripped the hilt of the broom.

Kita gave you a little wave. “Hello.”

You screamed.

Kita flinched. Why were you screaming? Wouldn’t people come running?

He took a step towards you, hands outstretched. His first instinct was to comfort you, to let you know it was all okay – after all, you had her face. “It’s okay, I—”

You whacked his hand with the broom.

Kita faltered, staring at you with wide eyes.

You… hit him? A kitsune? With a broom?

You blinked at him.

He blinked at you.

He traced your face with his eyes, his mind swirling with images of her. A beauty as fresh as the petals that bloom in spring, as clear as a spring, as bright as the morning dew.

Her face. You had her face.

You made a solid jab at his chest. Kita stumbled back, eyes wide. What were they teaching mikos these days?

He didn’t get the chance to ask. You fled, dashing out of the room with a small billow of your hakama.

He stood in dumbfounded silence, unsure of how to process what had just happened. You were the spitting image of her. But, you weren’t her. If you were, you wouldn’t have screamed. She had never run from him, never screamed. She had always treated him with respect, with a sense of reverence that came with her role as a miko. You… well, you were quite the opposite.

But you had her face. Her voice. Eternity shuddered to a stop, blocked by her – or was it your – face. Each memory flashed through his mind with startling vibrancy, coupled with a swell of emotion he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Oh, he realised. I’ve made a terrible mistake.

✧ ✧ ✧

A dozen web articles and a trip to the library later, you’d come to the conclusion that you had most definitely done something quite heretical on sacred ground.

Presuming, of course, that the man you’d whacked in the shrine was, in fact, a kitsune.

Your immediate instinct had been to run far, far away from that place; maybe even skip the country for a week or two. But then you’d considered the consequences of that. Would you be cursed? Did kitsunes inflict curses? You certainly hadn’t treated him very well. You’d hit him, actually. You thought that, at the very least, deserved an apology.

So there you stood, in the middle of the shrine, wrapped bento box in hand.

You weren’t quite sure why you’d come back. Maybe to prove to yourself that it was real, and that you weren’t just seeing things. Maybe because it might’ve been a practical joke, and you wanted the closure. How someone could’ve pulled such an elaborate ruse, well… that was beyond you, for now.

But going from seeing… that, to trying to pretend that everything was normal? That didn’t feel possible.

You’d only taken up this position as a holiday job. The extra cash didn’t hurt, and you thought it was an interesting way to spend the winter…

“Hello.”

You flinched, turning around. How on earth—

No, you shouldn’t be so surprised that he’d managed to sneak up on you. Not when a real kitsune was standing right there. A kitsune that you’d hit with a broom.

You bowed, almost at a perfect ninety-degree angle. “I am so sorry.”

The kitsune blinked at you for a moment, but you don’t see it. “It’s okay.” His voice was soft, perhaps even comforting.

You stood up and held the bento box out to him with stiff arms.

The kitsune raised his eyebrows at you.

“I, uh… I did some research, and…” You swallowed, hoping you weren’t about to make a fool of yourself. “Kitsune like inarizushi? Apparently?”

He stared at you for a very long moment. It was a little rude, truth be told.

You stared right back. Was this the right thing to do?

“Yes,” he cleared his throat, giving you a small bow. “Thank you.”

“It’s an apology,” you blurted out, your face feeling a lot hotter than you would’ve liked it to.

“What for?” The kitsune asked, tilting his head at you.

“For… for hitting you.” You could feel your cheeks growing hot. God, this was already a bit of a disaster.

“Oh,” he smiled softly at you, shaking his head. “It’s okay.”

“I wouldn’t have done it if I’d…” You took a deep breath, unable to meet his eyes. “If I’d known you were actually some kind of yokai.”

An amused glint sparked in his eyes. “You’re at a shrine. What did you think I was?”

“Well I…” You opened your mouth, braving a look at his face. “I don’t know.”

He was smiling now. And it made him quite beautiful. “You’re a miko.”

“Well, not really…” You bit your lip, glancing down at the bento box. Your arms were starting to ache, stiff as they were. “I didn’t really… believe in any of this before a couple of days ago. I just needed a part-time job over the uni holidays.”

He stared at you.

That was certainly different. She’d been deeply spiritual, seeing her role as intensely important. And yet you, the girl with her face, did not.

“I see,” he murmured, glancing at the floor. Uni holidays… was that university? Sometimes he struggled to keep up with the evolution of language. And that was to say nothing of the spattering of English words he heard people use. That was a whole other beast.

But that was of no matter. He looked back at you, a gentle smile on his face. “What do you study?”

You stared at him, silent.

He tilted his head at you. “Are you alright?”

“Well I—I guess I just didn’t think that, you know…”

You bit your lip.

He’s a kitsune. A yokai. Oh shit, did that mean Inari existed, too? Was this guy linked to Inari? What if he was Inari? Was that possible?

“Oh, the inarizushi,” he murmured, his eyes now on the bento box. You’re not sure why he suddenly decided to focus on that, almost as if to give you a reprieve in your little verbal breakdown, but you were more than delighted for this opportunity to change the conversation.

“Yes!” You sounded more enthusiastic than you would’ve liked, but hopefully this would smooth things over. But if anything, you needed appeasing more than he did.

You handed it over tentatively, deliberately trying to not let his fingers brush against yours. This was a whole new world for you, and you didn’t understand the consequences of such things. Better not tempt fate.

The kitsune settled himself down on the floor, folding his legs beneath him.

You raised your hands to shoo him off, driven by instinct. You weren’t going to let him leave crumbs.

The kitsune blinked at you, brown eyes round and quizzical. “Is there a problem?”

You paused, hands raised in front of you. Well, it was his shrine…

“Sit with me, if you’d like,” he smiled softly, nodding at the floor next to him.

You let a moment pass, watching his face closely. He gazed at you, tilting his head to the side. He looked genuinely confused. Did he… want you to sit with him?

You sat yourself down on the floor with a sigh. You thought it best to adopt the seiza position, knees on the floor as you tucked your legs underneath you, folding your hands in your lap.

“Please, relax,” he nodded at you with a smile. He unwrapped the bento box, picking up the chopsticks with a certain kind of elegance.

He smiled down at the inarizushi in his lap. You had no idea that he was comparing them to the ones she used to make him. Hers were neater, more delicate. Yours had all the signs of inexperience; rice was spilling out of one of them, and the casing looked a little too thick. But, you’d put in the effort, and that was enough to touch his heart.

You were just observing him quietly, your mind wandering off in its own direction.

If you’d told your younger self that you would be talking to a real, breathing kitsune, you would’ve spun some romantic fantasy of what that kitsune would be like. Skin like lily petals, hair white as snow and soft as silk, elegantly pointed ears, a face with all the sharpness and grace of a fox. That’s what you would’ve expected.

It wasn’t that he was a disappointment. It was just that there was a gravity to him; and yet, a sense of ethereality that you’d never seen before.

“So,” he hummed, picking an inarizushi up between his chopsticks. “You didn’t think my kind existed.”

You blinked at him for a moment. “Honestly? No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?” He popped the inarizushi in his mouth, chewing at an unhurried pace.

You didn’t really have an answer for that. “I just… didn’t.” Frankly, you just hadn’t thought about it. Nothing more to it.

He gazed at you, tilting his head. There was rice stuck to the corner of his mouth. “And now?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think now?” He said, gesturing to himself.

“Well, you’re…” You looked him up and down once. “You’re certainly real.”

He smiled at that. “Anything else?”

Was he asking for your opinion? “I guess you’re… different. From what I might’ve expected.”

“And what is that?” There’s a playful lilt to his voice.

“I… I don’t really know,” you admitted, twiddling your thumbs.

The kitsune just smiled as he picked up another inarizushi. “These are good.”

“Thank you.” You give him a half-bow, relieved that your efforts paid off. At the very least, you hadn’t angered him. Although, you weren’t quite sure if you could imagine this man as anything other than composed.

“Could you make me more?” His voice was gentle, halfway between a command and a question.

“Uh… not… not right now…”

“I meant for tomorrow,” he said.

“Oh.”

Right.

“Could you, please?” He leant forward, and you caught your breath.

There was such sincerity in his voice. Quite honestly, you still weren’t sure how to process everything that was happening. Kitsunes were real. One was sitting right in front of you. And he’d enjoyed the lunch you’d made him. So much so that he wanted you to make more.

Was it right to deny a spirit?

You took a deep breath, clenching your fists in your skirt. “Well, if I’m going to be bringing you lunch, then I may as well introduce myself.”

He smiled, tilting his head to the side. “Yes, that’s a good idea.”

You made your introduction quick, trying your best not to stutter through your own name.

But he smiled, repeating it back to you in a melodic cadence.

“What… what should I call you?” You asked.

A certain softness entered his eyes. “Call me Kita.”

✧ ✧ ✧

“Would you like some?” Kita held the bento box out to you, tilting his head to the side.

You were sat across from him on the ground, safely shrouded by a wall so that no-one else would see the two of you. He’d implored you to sit with your legs crossed this time, and you’d complied.

But, you certainly weren’t comfortable enough to intrude. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to take away from your—”

“Please,” he nudged the box towards you. “You seem hungry.”

You tilted your head at him, unsure of how to respond.

“You’ve been glancing at my lunch ever since I opened it.”

“Oh.” You lowered your head, suddenly embarrassed. “Right.”

“Are they not feeding you?” Kita frowned, looking around the room.

He’d shown up, without any warning, while you were preparing omamori. Trying to explain to your superiors why such a piercing shriek ripped from your throat that didn’t involve the sudden appearance of this strange kitsune friend of yours had perhaps been the most challenging part of your entire miko experience.

“No, it’s not that!” You waved your hand at him. “They treat me quite well.”

“But you’re hungry.”

“I just… forgot to eat lunch, that’s all.” It was the truth – you were hungry only because of your own mindlessness.

Kita held the chopsticks out to you, placing the bento box on your lap. You took the chopsticks from him tentatively, giving him a half-bow. “Thank you.”

You picked up an inarizushi with the chopsticks, popping it into your mouth. Even just the feeling of food in your mouth gave you a sense of relief. You nodded at him again, smiling.

He smiled right back, his hands folded in his lap.

“Hey,” you swallowed, your gaze flitting downwards. “Can I ask you some questions?”

“Of course,” he nodded.

“Thank you, Kita.” You gave him another small half-bow.

He blinked at you. He hadn’t expected hearing you say his name would make him feel so… odd. But, you’d said it just as she had, all those years ago, inflection and all.

“How are kitsunes born?” You asked, shovelling some rice into your mouth. It was the opposite of elegant, but Kita almost found it charming. Almost.

But, your question made him blush. “I… would prefer not to answer that.”

Your own cheeks burned in response. Maybe that was a bit too much. “Okay… how long have you been alive?”

“Do you remember how many tails I have?”

“Uh…” You frowned, trying to remember that very eventful day. “Four, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“So… four hundred years?” That’s what those many hours trawling the internet would indicate.

“And a half,” Kita smiled.

He’s just happy to be talking to someone. To be seen, heard, felt by someone.

He’d been warned against reaching out to people by some other yokai, but Kita had been unable to quell that curiosity. There was much delight to be found amongst humans and their lives, and Kita had always enjoyed observing them. And they really were delightful to speak to, whenever he could. Besides, was it not his duty as a spirit to maintain good relations between the two worlds?

But ever since she had passed away, he’d been reticent. He’d gained more understanding of where that advice came from. Advice that perhaps, came out of a profound sense of loss. Something he now understood much too well.

Maybe it’s foolish of him, sitting here and talking to you so frankly, simply because you looked just like her. Was this some kind of reincarnation? A coincidence? Maybe it was just a cruel trick of the universe – or an expression of its fundamentally uncreative and cyclical nature.

“That’s… a while,” you nodded slowly.

“Some kitsune may say that I’m barely an adult,” he chuckled.

“Really?” You frowned.

“I’ve much more life to live if I want to be considered wise,” he said.

You gazed off for a moment, blinking slowly. Four hundred years sounded like an awful long time to you, but… well, you weren’t immortal. And this man sitting with you likely was. An uncomfortable feeling crawled its way through your chest, your mind circling with thoughts and questions you didn’t feel quite ready to grapple with.

The conversation needed to move on.

You frowned, tapping your lips with the tip of the chopsticks. “Okay, so.”

“Yes?”

“What’s been your favourite decade to live in?”

He paused, doing some quick fact-checking in his mind. “The fifteen hundreds, I believe.”

“Why?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Kita murmured, looking away from you. How would he even begin to explain that? ‘I was in love with someone who looked and sounded exactly like you?’ He prized honesty, but perhaps that was too honest.

You blinked, biting your lip. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” He turned to give you a weak smile.

A tenuous silence stretched between you, and he almost regretted being so terse. Almost.

“Are other yokai real, too?” You asked, poking at the rice.

“Some of them.”

“Only some?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“If you ever get yourself a cat, you better keep an eye on its tail.”

You swallowed, unsure if he was joking or not. “Are… ghosts real?”

“Perhaps it’s best if you don’t know the answer to that question.”

“Uh…” You turned the thought over in your mind for a second. “I’m not sure.”

You turned your attention back to the inarizushi, popping a few more into your mouth and chewing away contentedly. After a few moments, you gestured to the bento box, your mouth full of food.

Kita nodded, holding his palm out.

You placed the chopsticks in his hand, blushing as your fingers brushed against his.

“Tell me about yourself,” he hummed, setting the bento box in his own lap.

You swallowed, your face growing hot. “There’s not really anything interesting to say.”

“Why did you choose to be a miko?”

“It’s just a part-time job,” you shrugged, playing with the fabric of your skirt.

“But you could have chosen from a whole range of jobs,” he persisted. “But you’re here. Why?”

You paused, turning the question over in your mind. “I don’t know… it seemed interesting?”

Kita nodded. “Why?”

“I… I guess I thought it would be a fun way to connect with the culture,” you shrugged. “Because it’s… very traditional.”

“Have you enjoyed yourself?”

“I have.” You could answer that question confidently, at least.

“That’s wonderful to hear,” he smiled softly.

“I should get back to work,” you sighed, rising to your feet.

“Be sure to take care of yourself,” he nodded, getting up himself. “Don’t overwork yourself.”

You cocked your head at him. “Huh?”

He shook his head. “Nevermind.”

Those were the words he’d say to her, all those years ago. Words that she never heeded as much as he wished she would.

But, he had to remind himself, time and time again.

You’re not her.

✧ ✧ ✧

“You’re very good at making those.” Kita sat on the floor next to you, watching as you arranged little omamori into the categories of a large wooden box.

“What, these?” You held one towards him.

“Yeah,” he nodded, taking it from you gently. He turned it over, the sky blue silk soft beneath his touch.

“Thank you,” you blushed

“I don’t recognise this colour,” he murmured. “What are they for?” He asked, deciding that he’d hold on to this little omamori. You’d made it yourself, after all.

“That one’s a love charm,” you nodded at his hand, smiling as you organised a set of gold silk rectangles. “Apparently they’re very popular during the New Year.” You pointed at another group of pink and blue charms in the box. “The one you’re holding is for single people, but these ones are for couples.”

He swallowed, turning it over in his hand. A love charm. She had made him one, all those years ago. Albeit, she had given it to him with a lot more intention.

“Thank you,” he murmured, tucking it into the sleeve of his kimono.

You grinned at him, eyeing his sleeve. “Hoping it’ll help you out?”

“I—” His cheeks bloomed red as heat crawled up his neck. Perhaps he’d been thinking about love more often, these days. But he wasn’t quite ready to process all of that. Was he so obvious?

“I’m just teasing,” you giggled.

He fought back the urge to pout. He was glad, at least, that you felt comfortable enough to say something like that. But, it saved him at least a little bit of embarrassment.

You’d been visiting him for the past few weeks, bringing him inarizushi every shift you’re in for.

And it made him so, so happy. He’s being seen. Being noticed. And, he liked talking to you. Maybe more than he should. More than he wanted to.

“When was the last time you’ve been to town?” You wondered, looking at him.

Kita frowned. “Uh… a couple hundred years, maybe?”

You gaped at him. “What?”

“Well, I…” He stopped, tilting his head at you. He didn’t quite know what to say. Yes, it had been a very long while, but he’d only just found the strength to open himself up to the human world like he once had. He’d been an observer for the past few centuries, but it had been quite a long while since he’d engaged like that. And besides; ‘town’ must be very, very different.

You scratched the back of your head. “Do you want to?”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you want to go to town?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m going to a festival this Friday,” you said, smiling at him. “It’s nearly New Year’s.”

Oh, right. New Year’s.

Would you leave him, once the year turned over?

He swallowed the thought back. No, he wouldn’t think about that. He didn’t want to.

“Come with me on Friday,” you smiled, placing your hand on his shoulder.

Kita froze, feeling a certain kind of warmth in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. A type of warmth he hadn’t felt since her. A type of warmth that was at once exhilarating and terrifying.

“It’ll be fun, I promise!” You beamed. If you’d noticed his reaction, you didn’t give him any indication.

“Okay,” he mumbled, suddenly much more interested in the omamori in his sleeve than before.

“Yay!” You clapped your hands together, your face full of joy. “I’ll see you Friday!”

Kita swallowed roughly. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. But he didn’t want to say no to you. Not when you were smiling at him like that.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Are you alright?”

Kita blinked, looking at you. “Hm?”

“You look… uncomfortable,” you said, tilting your head at him. “I mean, I think that’s discomfort on your face.”

He swallowed, looking down at the ground. “It’s just… there’s a lot of people.”

The two of you were stood at the edge of the crowd, just out of the light of the lanterns. Kita knew that there was going to be a large throng of people, but he hadn’t expected it to be so busy.

“We don’t have to go if it’s too much,” you smiled, folding your hands behind your back.

“No,” he shook his head. “I want to try.”

You nodded, looking over the crowd. “We’ll go when you’re ready, okay?”

Kita gazed at you for a moment. He was glad that you shared her kindness. But, it was also very much your own; a sense of compassion that you’d cultivated yourself.

He took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. A myriad of scents flooded his nose – lanterns burning, tea brewing, fish cooking. It was almost overwhelming, the entire area laced with such dense, powerful sensations.

“I’m ready,” he murmured, opening his eyes.

“Wonderful,” you cheered, hopping into the lamp light.

“Try not to get lost,” you said to him, glancing at him over your shoulder. Your face was bathed with golden lights, your eyes glittering in a way that made his heart ache.

Kita nodded, gazing over the crowd. There were so, so many people; more than he’d seen for centuries.

There was life in front of him. Humans, chatting, laughing, glowing. Each of them was a ripple, a reinterpretation of someone who had come before. But they were also individuals; people with their own lives, dreams, hearts.

Kita took your hand, an action taken partly on instinct, partly on desire. He didn’t want to lose you in this crowd, to watch you disappear into the mass of heads milling around the street and leave him alone. But he wanted to be close to you too. To feel your warmth.

You turned and smiled at him, and his heart felt light. Lighter than it’d felt for centuries.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew why.

He felt seen. Understood. No longer a ghost flitting between the corridors of a shrine, full of aimless yearning.

You were smiling at him with her face, her eyes. But, you were not her. No, you were someone else entirely – someone just as wonderful.

The feeling of your hand in his. A sharp memory, yet something new. Something that felt like a possibility.

This little affection, this small gesture, anchored him to the present. Even if just for a second, you chased away eternity.

#kita x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #kita x you #kita imagines #kita shinsuke x you #haikyuucreations #this one is unbeta'd please forgive hhhh

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