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sunsents · 3 years ago

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Content 2/2 - F.W (M)

Empty Chapter II

IT'S. OVER. Holy shit, this took way longer than I expected it to be. Yes, it’s 20k mf words and what abt it. Don’t look at me like that. I warned ya’ll 🙄. Now, I definitely made up some words while writing this. Like a shelved corridor, the heck is a shelved corridor?!?! Please tell me it makes sense…please for the sake of my sanity. The smut is kinda tame so I’ll whip out the chains on the next one.

CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE

Summary —> Years later you find yourself face to face with the person that caused your ruin - yet this time, somethings different.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 20k... honestly I completely get it if ya'll wanna sit this one out

Warnings: *deep breath* a poor attempt at humor / gingers / pining idiots / normal idiots / excessive cursing / fred weasley in slacks / alcohol consuming / very little angst (its mostly just overthinking) to fluff / minor character death / smut / oral, (fem) / fingering / cum play / sexual mf intercourse mfs / protected sex (dont be silly protect your willy) / dirty talk / sappy stuff

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

tagged: @opalsheart @ronsbadidea @uselessmoonlight @boxofbadaddiction @lovenonymously @sergeantkilowog @rudypankowisdaddy, @nobutfredweasleytho some names didn’t come up when I tried, so what do we get from this? I can't properly use Tumblr <3

Five Years Later, 2003

"____, will you just calm down." Aleyna lets go of the book box full of bathroom supplies and they clink together, to which you wince because these are your stuff and you’re in a far too dangerous position to lose more money.

"How can I calm down?!" you exclaim dramatically, tossing your wand on the nylon wrapped couch. "It's all Stacey's fault."

Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"

"That one chick from Magical Catastrophes who always has lipstick on her teeth."

"I don't think her name is Stacey though."

You send Aleyna a look that screams, stop being reasonable at a time like this. No, this was when you overpaid your TV cable to air The Twilight Zone and drank cheap wine while cursing out your boss who cared about your well being. Hermione had become The Minister of Magic, and of course you were proud of her. Though, this didn't mean she could let you have time off work whenever something insignificant happened.

"Probably not," you mutter, opening your fridge and coming face to face with the painful truth that it’s empty, and you’re hungry. Your hand unintentionally flies to graze over your scar as you survey your options, a small pack of ketchup and left over chips. "Suits her though, feels good to say 'Goddamnit Stacey' when something goes wrong in my life."

Stacey deserves it because Stacey doesn’t refill the staplers on purpose.

Aleyna snorts, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "What did Stacey ever do to you?" Then she wheels across your new apartment to retrieve more boxes from outside.

You’re grateful for the support of all your friends, but the pitying looks they give you whenever someone mentions the words house and fire is enough to fuel into your secret want of setting their houses on fire. It was an accident, you were just trying to make the delicious recipe Molly had sent you, ignoring the small fact that you didn't know how to properly use an oven. The savings you lost from your bleeding bank account were not worth pasta with tomato sauce on it.

Though, your new apartment is big, bigger than your first because after making a name for yourself as an Auror money came easily. Wide walls for a projector TV, long tail shaped couch standing firm on varnished wood floorings, and two bedrooms that have their own - kind of unnecessary - bathrooms. Not to mention the giant kitchen with an island, only rich people had islands, where you could make plenty of Italian recipes and not worry about burning the house down because Aleyna fool-proofed it for you.

The flat was at the top floor of the new bar she just built, and she was kind enough to let you start renting the place. The residents of Diagon Alley had been fighting for this apartment for months, and you were proud to have snagged it before anyone could even offer.

Gripping the last two boxes, Aleyna pushes the front door with her foot and navigates herself backwards through the other dozen boxes you had just tossed on the floor. "These are the last two, are you sure you don't need anymore help?" she offers.

You shake your head, "I can just use magic, not in the mood for pursuing the muggle lifestyle right now."

Aleyna frowns, this reaches her eyes though. "That bad huh."

Simply nodding, you don’t bother getting into an in depth rant about how a simple fire didn't mean you had trauma, and that you didn't need to stop working for a few weeks. Not that being an Auror was hard, your work days have been quite uneventful if you didn't count a few "Revalutioners" sticking a muggle's head in a toilet.

"I know what will cheer you up," Aleyna chimes, already clad in her pea coat and sneakers. "Dinner, and it's on me."

You couldn't possibly say no to free dinner, also making food for yourself was probably not a good idea right now. Stay clear of ovens, you reminded yourself.

After getting snug in your coat and fluffing your hair, you fall on step next to Aleyna as the two of you chat.

The London cold is brutal, shivering whomever until their noses turn red and making their hands feel itchy when sudden warmth overtook. You’re used to it, as is anyone in Diagon Alley. People are crowding the stores, chatting loudly and waving their wands around at stores to reserve whatever crappy gifts they were going to buy for their family's.

You hate the holidays, refusing to go back to America and visit your own family. Your mother couldn't cook, nor could your father. Though, that didn't stop her from insisting every year and giving you, your father and the Burke's food poisoning.

After three years of sitting through awkward family dinners where everyone ignored the fact that you were almost Head of Aurors, and focused on Eva's collapsing career of Healer only to praise her, you had about enough and stopped attending. It had been two years since then, they didn't bother to write. Your dad occasionally sent you money in a horrible christmas card with an even more horrible pun written in red glittery letters that also sang Run Run Rudolph.

"Ugh, everyone's crowding the joke shop aga- oh." Aleyna pauses. "I'm sorry."

She knows about your past with Fred Weasley, considering whenever you rant about work it ends up with you cursing him and Eva out. He had such a blame-able face, just like Stacey from Magical Catastrophes.

You give Aleyna a look. "You act like I'm not a grown woman who can't get over something that happened eight years ago." you say, shaking off the small snow particles that begin to lightly fall. "You should be like this with, I don't know...my relationship with Theo! We broke up last year, why aren't you fragile with him, hmmm?"

Aleyna claps your back in a friendly manner all the same. "I know I know, but come on. This is childhood trauma we're talking about."

"Now that I think about it, seeing Eva's coochie was traumatic." you grin, and Aleyna's jaw gape even if she heard the story hundreds of times before. Not that Eva's...modesty was bad per say, just not a pleasant sight seeing as you guys grew up together.

Other than that fact, you hadn't talked, even seen Fred after the war ended. Sure, you occasionally stole glances at their very successful joke shop, but there was no point in dwelling and trying to fix an already withered away friendship.

You had fixed your relationship with Ron and Harry, having had no choice since the three of you worked together. "You were right ____, we were assholes. You don't need to apologize." they had told you, and that was that. The two families and well, you did weekly dinners and enduring the two men for Ginny and Hermione got easier as days passed, finally ending up in a good friendship like old times. It was casual between you, easy when no one mentioned how abruptly your friendship ended. No one dared to either.

Also, Harry was your boss and him remembering that you called him a drama queen wouldn’t do you any good in your career.

People bump at your sides as the two of you squeeze your way towards Sacree Fleur. The end of Voldemort brought a new, reformative era in the Wizarding World. Diagon Alley expanded, new buildings were built and culture grew. You were happy to see that Ollivendar's Wand shop renewed, along with other crumbling buildings that needed desperate attention.

Bandits lessened, and the utter arrogance some parents had by not sending their children to get magical education faded, partly because there was nothing to fear, and partly because more job opportunities arose, like said, money came easily.

Fleur Weasley, your good friend and someone who had done the impossible and won over a Weasley brother - though she was gorgeous and possibly the sweetest person you've ever met, so really they were perfect for each other - had decided on a whim to open a french restaurant. Bill couldn't say no to his wife, the rough man you had met years prior was softened with age and the struggle of raising children.

Good wine, deliciously soft steak that melts in your mouth and warm atmosphere that makes five o-clock feel like midnight. It’s by far your favorite restaurant and you'd much rather spend your Christmas Eve curled up next to a warm candlelit dinner on a terrace.

"Bonjour!" an obscenely attractive woman, Fleur greets the two of you when the revolving glass doors are pushed, and you break out in a wide smile seeing your friend at the door. "____, Aleyna! Come here, give me a big hug!"

"Fleur! What are you doing here?"

With dopey smiles, the three of you embrace.The door closes on it's own, and you shiver unintentionally, just now realizing how cold it is. Usually the big marble fireplace keeps Sacree Fleur warm, but even that seemed not enough and the restaurant is adorned with small muggle heaters, floating up above the ceiling and adding to the red light of the candles.

"You'll see. Came at a most amazing time too, silly girl always knowing when to show. Saw all the juicy drama when you were younger..." Fleur continues to joke lightheartedly, pulling away and leading the two of you through occupied tables as she faux scolds. People are content, it feels warm and almost soft. Conversation seems to flow easily and the unease you feel for the Holiday melts. Almost.

You blech whenever someone brings up the line ‘love is in the air’. It never made sense to you, because love was simply a fairy tale that would wither away with time. Also, how could love simply float? Of course, unless you count Amortentia fumes - which yours always smelled like sweat and crushed hopes. So frankly, you prefer expensive Dior perfume in the air rather than love.

Though now you find yourself doubting whatever you engraved in that well protected head of yours, love is truly in the air at Sacree Fleur. All kinds of love, mothers lovingly wiping food off their children's mouths, happy newlyweds clinking their wine glasses together with nothing but adoration in their eyes, friends enjoying sharing a simple dinner far more than should be done.

"My family, they're upstairs having dinner. The kids like the ice cream here, Mr Fortescue provides it well."

"Family? Ginny and Hermione are here?" you ask, lazily climbing the steps to the second floor to reveal the more, private part of the restaurant. Now, instead of wooden chairs with red cushions attached at the middle, there stand long booths with comfortable blankets and pillows with empty, eerily clean tables - except one.

The long table near the terrace is much livelier today, people sitting there whom you consider your own family. The three post luster that hangs low from the ceiling is turned on - it’s the first time you’ve seen the glamorous glass orbs in action. Its light ricochets off of several bright orange heads, simply calling it a lamp does no justice. The hue is yellow, low and it reminds you of the Christmas Eve fantasy you planned.

Said orange heads turn at the noise of delight you let out. "Oh Fleur! This is gorge- oof-"

"Auntie ____!"

A pool of orange locks squish into your stomach, snug in the soft fabric of your coat and you let out a chuckle. You can’t help it, even if you would never admit, he’s your favorite by a small number that-

"Well well, if it isn't Teddy Lupin."

The small boy chuckles, hair matching your black coat like a chameleon sticking itself on a flower and absorbing the color of the petals. You ruffle Ted's hair as the orange fades, he’s delighted to see you, and so are you yet your attention is quickly cut off by several disembodied voices thrown your way.

Bill Weasley is standing up, wine glass on one hand while grinning wide. “Look who my dear wife brought in!” his tidy yet visible scar stretches when his face brightens, you remembered again that day, just how much love you have around you.

“Hey everyone, hope we’re not interrupting.” you apologize, wincing but Bill quickly shakes his head and pushes his chair back.

You waddle your way towards the marble table, Teddy following suit with his face still smushed in your coat. He grips you tighter and you have to peel his small little limbs off your legs.

Aleyna scoffs, arms crossing together as she surveys Ted. “The blatant favoritism!”

Teddy rushes on his little legs to jump in Aleyna’s arms, and only then are you able to acknowledge the other - a little less important - people in the room.

“Happy holidays!” echoes around your head as several people embrace you all at once, and you have to simply stand and awkwardly loop your arm around whoever you can get a hold of.

Once the formalities are over, Ginny throws her arm around your shoulder. The red tresses of her dress hike up her leg from her slightly bigger stomach, and you can see the small broom tattoo on her thigh that she loves to display like a trophy. “You should’ve told us you were coming! We would have saved you a seat.”

A round of yes’s resonate around the room, and you take a quick moment to scan who’s afternoon dinner you’ve just interrupted. Hermione, hand resting on her very pregnant belly, is smiling warmly at you, and Ron quickly shoots up from his seat and wipes his mouth to catch up to his wife. Harry follows in his friend's wake, his hair has a white streak at the front and you furrow your brows.

“Age catching up with you Potter?” you grin, rubbing Ginny’s back fondly before she separates from you and greets Aleyna. “Or is it the pregnancy?”

Harry scoffs, pulling you in his embrace for a quick friendly second. “Always the charmer ____. I’ll have you know I’m handling it wonderfully, right Gin’?”

Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”

Harry’s face feigns faux disbelief, and it quickly melts as you bombard the man with questions about how Ginny’s first trimester is going. You mentally take note of asking Ron about Hermione’s as well, your two best friends are fucking pregnant. It’s almost too happy, and slowly the anxiety creeping up from your spine wraps around your throat, ready to suffocate you whenever.

It was always like this, the past ready to make it’s deathly move, because nothing is perfect. Happiness doesn’t come this easily.

And you’re right, because not only a minute after the warm embraces of your friends comes the voice of the person you’ve been dreading to see.

“____?”

And then, you’re suffocating.

He’s a man. Of that you’re sure, because now his muscles stretch well over his broad shoulders, maroon satin shirt loose on his frame, tight around his biceps - properly sculpted of course - portraying defined collarbones.

His eyes are somewhat duller, though the same glimmer of loveable mischief he always had is evident. It will never go away, even after all these years, yet it’s tamer. That mischief caused him quite the trouble back in school, and now it seems he knows when to act, when to speak and when to stay silent.

His silhouette catches you off guard, his features are sharper, much sharper than how much Harry has matured. His biceps bulge obscenely when he rests his - also generously sized you might add - hand on the table, and the table suddenly doesn’t seem that long.

His forearms, on display with his sleeves rolled up, glistens under the soft lighting of the balcony. Your eyes fall on his bracelet adorned right wrist, one of which in particular catching your attention.

He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.

His face, always glowing, wears a large expression displaying his set of perfect teeth. He’s awestruck, you think.

You watch him push his large body out of the small chair, and wow chest, is your only thought. Then further down and...god damn thighs. Burly thighs - probably very comfortable too - squeezed in black tight fit jeans, however he managed that you don’t know but it was nice to imagine.

He’s leaned back, casual as he strolls towards you in two large steps, his long sculpted legs never disappointing.

Fred Weasley is genetically designed to ruin you and your insides with just one look, and you’re ashamed to have realized it all too late because when he speaks again you swear you saw stars.

“Wow - you,” he breaths, walking towards you with slow, unsure steps. “Grew!”

You raise a brow, Aleyna snorts. Grew? His steps should be unsure, because you want him to take them back, sit his fine fit ass back on that chair and pretend he never saw you.

Because this wasn’t your plan for tonight, seeing him wasn’t in your checklist. You woke up today, thinking nothing but coffee and a stressful moving day ahead. Not of the boy - the man you’ve been in love with since childhood, the man you blamed for your problems as an excuse to hide the heart squeezing pain of loneliness, the man you hadn’t seen in so many years you forgot what his voice sounded like.

You could have never guessed, and now you want to go back. Somehow rewind the clock to this morning when you were safe of your tucked away feelings trying to bulge, safe in your own little circle. All your efforts of leaving your house just a little early so you wouldn’t run into Fred seems stupid now. Your strategy ran smoothly for five years, it could’ve ran for more.

You would have continued avoiding him like your life depended on it, and his stupid joke shop, and the way he stupidly looked at you everytime he saw you. You’re reminded again, because no matter how older he looks he’s still Fred, and he still looks at you the same.

“I mean - beautifully! Shit I - fuck.” he groans, and George claps his brother on the back with a chuckle. Wherever he came from, because you were so entranced by Fred that you didn’t see George standing tall next to his family.

“____.” George stops before you, hands in his pockets. it happens too quickly that you’re forced out of your panicked state.

You raise a brow, and only then - Fred’s out of view with George’s figure towering over you - are you able to find your voice. “George.”

He pulls you in his tight embrace, “How come you never visited!” he scolds, chest stretching back to bring you with. “You’d think she’d bloody say hello once in a while! Maybe drop by our shop after 5 years, you quack!”

“George - can’t,” you heave and your legs wobble when he sets you on the ground again. You clear your throat, grinning widely at your...friend?

It would be fair to call him an acquaintance, right? You don’t know where you stand with the twins but you have love for them. This is clear from the way you can’t stop smiling like a sappy idiot - or perhaps it’s because of how contagious George’s smile is. You thought they hated you, but the youngest looks anything but displeased. He gives you a squeeze again before throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“I thought - I dunno. I thought you guys didn’t wanna see me.”

George scoffs, “Because you told us off that one time in seventh year?” he laughs, arms folding and displaying a set of bulging biceps much like Fred’s. “Yeah mate, you’re not that intimi-“

“George Weasley, finish that sentence I dare you!”

His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Someone clears their throat.

It’s Frederick Weasley, probably here to beat you to death.

“Hey Fred.” you greet, mouth dry. Get a grip, you scold yourself.

Fred opens his arms, “Well well,” he laughs, pulling you into a hug with a polite smile. His cheeks tint red when you shuffle closer, you would have missed this but you’re a creep, and you can’t stop staring at the beautiful man before you. He displays his beautifully indented smile lines, as if he was saying look at me! I’m perfect and sexy, I also broke your heart that one time, too bad I had no idea!

And it’s true, Fred never knew about your feelings. You kept them well hidden and they ate away at your organs from the inside, there was no reason to blame him. The realization is probably what compels you to accept him with open arms and wrap them around his neck.

You feel him shiver, dismissing it quickly because of the cold.

He smells good. Way too good that you melt in his arms and let him engulf you in his dangerous warmth. Manly, musky cologne, mixing with hints of cigar smoke that lingers on only certain areas of his shirt. You recognize the scotch in his breath when he whispers how much he had missed you, and his nape still has that cinnamon deliciousness he would parade whenever he came out of the shower, you fought the urge to shiver yourself, and it’s not because of the cold either.

It’s dizzying, and before you can start a detailed essay about how good his muscles feel, firm and digging into all the right places, he pulls away.

The past hits you like a ton of fucking bricks and crumbles down the firm foundations of the walls you have been building for eight years. You feel guilty, have you learned nothing? The loud pounding of your heart is a warning, yelling at you to stop getting swept away. Yet you can’t control it, just like how you can never control your feelings.

“I missed you guys too.” you breath shakily, you have to make sure to keep your distance. For your own good, you tell yourself.

Teddy pulls away your attention, and you silently add buy Teddy an expensively dumb toy to your checklist.

He sticks to your leg and is adamant on staying there. “I grew taller.” he says, looking at you between his eyelashes. “He says I didn’t, but I know I did!”

You chuckle, ignoring how Fred looks at the boy with such a warm expression, ignoring the way your heart nearly catapults out your chest.

“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.

Ted immediately lets go of your leg and straightens, hand going to his forehead to salute you. A giggle escapes him when you bend on your knees and act like you have a measuring stick on your hand. “Oh yes yes, seven feet tall and growing.” voice mock deep, you nod sternly.

“By this rate - I’ll pass you! Hah!” Teddy stomps his little foot on the stone floor, little sneakers barely making a sound.

You stand up again and fold your arms, “Well, I grow too you know! You can never pass me.” smirking slyly, you egg him on to see how much he’ll endure before he demands a ride on your shoulders - because that’s how giants saw the earth he told you. You doubt giants compare to a twenty four year old woman with attachment issues

Ted stands on his toes, struggling to tug on your shirt and bring you down. “No, I don’t like this game anymore…”

“Alright alright.” and with that you pick him up and prop the little boy on your shoulders.

Ted happily kicks his feet on your chest and you groan. He’s supposed to be five, not a midget wrestler. “Easy buddy boy.”

“You’re amazing with him, little twerp barely lets me tie his shoes.”

Fred’s voice startles you, only now do you realize that he had been watching you and Teddy. Speaking of, Ted’s busying himself with your hair, small hands pulling and twisting locks and mumbling incoherently.

Ear tips slowly catching fire, you chuckle. “Buy him a broom at four and see how he handles it.”

Fred shakes his head, tongue poking at the side of his cheek and you remind yourself to breathe. “You spoil him then? They say the way to a five year old's heart is money.”

“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”

Nuff words said, everyone soon sits on their designated chairs, and you pull one from another table, being the uninvited one.

Aleyna isn’t slick, you knew she had something up her sleeve the moment she had offered to pay for dinner. Though, this is your fault. You let her without calculating whatever end result was waiting to catch you off guard and ruin your entire life plan to avoid Fred Weasley.

Being the snake she is, snake Aleyna enticed you with nice food, dragged you to Sacree Fleur and did her little snake magic.

Awkwardly angled next to your best friend, you chat with Harry and Hermione while they tell you what you missed from work. (Not that you missed much, actually nothing different seems to have happened other than boring paperwork and Mrs Newersman’s new hairdo.)

Swirling your wine in one hand, the reflection of Fred from the rim of the glass keeps distracting you.

He’s changed, not personality wise though there were tweaks. Nor looks, he’s an adult now and his boyish charm is gone, but it isn’t quite that.

You can’t put a finger on it either, and you watch him laugh, carefree with his sister.

He looks relaxed, or maybe it’s merely the wine. Is it - no, couldn’t be. He looks happy. Genuine happiness and adoration for whomever. Love in his eyes as he looks at - Ah. He’s looking at you.

You jerk your head away and tip your wine glass back to gulp down liquid courage - because you need it tonight. This is bad, you tell yourself, kick you on the shin and punch to your gut bad. This can’t keep up or else you’re going to end up right back in that hollow pit of empty hope and gooey saturday lasagna.

“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”

Ron’s timbre voice thankfully grips your arms and pulls you away from said hollow pit.

“Uhh what?” you cough awkwardly, setting your now empty wine glass down.

“Christmas Eve, what are you doing? Going back home?” Ron asks, raising a brow.

You can lie but something compels you not to, maybe it’s how warmly they always welcome you, how they’re welcoming you now with open arms and nice food.

You shake your head, answering honestly; “No actually, I’ll just celebrate with Jambo and Christmas movies.”

And that’s exactly how you’ve been spending your Christmas Eve these past few lonesome years. It wasn’t that lonely, you had Aleyna and people loved her bar, you’d drop by and count down with people you didn’t know, at least you got to kiss a random stranger.

“Jambo? He’s still alive?” Hermione chuckles.

“No no, this is Jambo Fitzwilliam the Second, who is also a cat but don’t you dare tell him that!” smiling, you joke lightheartedly to conceal the harsh news.

Your hand reaches to trace around your scar as you speak.You know their eyes follow, and you know they stare at it when you’re not looking. Teddy asked you one day, even after Ginny’s scolding but you happily told him your heroic story and how Bellatrix smelled like piss and rum.

Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.

Jambo had unfortunately passed away because apparently dogs couldn’t live two hundred years, which you were disappointed because clearly Dumbledore could. You had already grieved and mourned, it left you with the happiest memories of your precious dog and you were grateful.

“Poor kitty doesn’t know he’s adopted?” George frowns, banging his fist on the table.

You roll your eyes, “I’m sure he’s caught on by now, he’s three.”

“So, you’re spending Christmas Eve alone?” Fred asks, too suddenly and you flinch. He probably sees this, his effect on you.

You nod, and your friends gasp. Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal, or maybe it’s because of how normal it felt for you to be alone.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Ginny says, hand shooting out to rub your arm.

“I’ve been trying to get her out for ages-“

“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.

“No Aleyna, do!” Ginny protests. “You’re spending it with us and that’s that.”

“Wha-“

George throws up his finger to shush you, “No objections!” he declares fiercely. “We’re having a party at our flat and you both are coming!”

“Oh! Unless you and Blaise have any other plans.” Hermione’s quick to ask, she isn’t being slick though.

Aleyna chuckles, “We had dinner reservations but we can make it.”

Hermione grins, and you watch Aleyna pretend that she didn’t notice her friend ready to snoop in her relationship with an amused smile. Not that it matters - she and Blaise have that kind of love you hoped for as a young girl. There was truly no two other people so perfect for each other.

“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”

Aleyna takes a sip from her almost empty glass and tuts on the bitter after taste. “Amazing, actually. He just got promoted…”

Almost empty glasses are soon emptied bottles, and two steaks turn into a large brownie for the middle. You know that it’s a good meal, because as you stand outside in the midnight cold, arm around Aleyna, your legs wobble and your stomach aches from all the deliciousness you’ve consumed. More like inhaled, you only realized how hungry you were until the second steak arrived.

“Thank you so much you guys!” you wave your arm, overly theatrical, forgetting about what a day you’ve had.

Though, the thoughts catch up as you lay awake in bed.

It had gone by too quickly, and your heart is still beating louder than any chirping of the bugs outside. Your bedroom lacks furnishing, it only adds to your wild imagination. Your mind paints pictures on the blank walls as your eyes dart around, Fred didn’t look in your direction once that night.

Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.

It’s strange, whenever you turned your gaze his way, he seemed to be busying himself with whatever, whether it be his fork or napkin. How interesting can a damn napkin be? Hopefully not any lesser than you.

And are you just going to ignore that goddamned bracelet? The one you carefully sculpted with beads in such a way that you were sure Fred would suspect at least a drop of your raging crush. He’s still wearing it, that piece of string and glass - the symbol of your love and effort - survived through a war.

Are you reading into things? Surely not, he greeted you as anyone else would. Or maybe he remembered - you don’t dare think of that night.

How can they act so normally, so brazen after everything? It’s been almost six years since you saw them, have they got nothing to say to you? Maybe an apology?

Frustrated, you turn to your side and force your eyes shut.

————————

When night bleeds into morning, every cat has a tendency to quip over to their owners on their cushioned paws - which makes no noise but simple claw scratchings on the floor.

Jambo’s no different.

So, you’d imagine the poor creature's shock when he finds your bedroom empty. If he’d bothered to check, you’re seated on your island stool, pen and parchment in hand and mug of hot coffee (instant given the circumstance) in the other.

You hung your new curtains this morning, and were making use of them by shutting them halfway on the hooks while your window stood half open. You watch the snow flurry outside and gulp. If this week was to go horribly wrong... at least you have nice curtains waiting for you at your ritzy new apartment.

Jambo wraps his tail around your dangling ankle like he always does and you barely hum in acknowledgement. He’s purring, and it brings you comfort even if it’s for a small moment. But your question still remains unanswered, What would a five year old boy want for christmas?

It had been exactly two days since Ginny invited you to spend Christmas Eve together, and you busied yourself with buying them gifts - a tradition you hated because 1. coming up with gift ideas is infuriatingly hard. It’s way too time consuming, nit picking every single personality and deciding what they’ll like and what they’ll pretend to like. Pretend like they’re going to use it, and then never touch it until that one very specific occasion.

Maybe it’s excessive, but you actually like these people. They somehow give you - a sad, lonely sewer rat that’d been a neglected child - joy.

And 2. you feel like those people you make fun of every Christmas. Though, somewhere deep in your heart, you know you enjoy being those people. You would never admit it though.

What? You actually relish in the idea that you belong to a group, and that said group causes you to carry out cliche holiday traditions?

Absolute blasphemy.

Finally deciding, you leave your apartment in warm but cher clothing. It isn’t as crowded this morning - or maybe it’s because it’s seven forty in the crack of fucking dawn. Though, with the amount of caffeine you’ve consumed, it feels like ten.

Would they even be open, you ask yourself, jogging quickly about the streets on your heels to avoid the cold. It’s Christmas, they have to be.

Of course your logic sucks.

Shivering, you round the corner tea shop and fasten your pace. Ass freezing, lip tucked in between your teeth, you realize you have underestimated the morning London cold.

Soon, thankfully, the giant head of George(?) you assume, comes into view. The animatronic is motionless, big porcelain eyes closed and displaying sinister gaping holes. You shiver, and not because of the cold either.

Keeping your eyes low on your feet, you push the glass doors of the shop open. You don’t bother to check the inside from the generous glass displays, it’s way too cold and you don’t want to spend any more time outside with the giant George doll.

A bell rings, a little jingle up above that puts a smile on your face. Jambo’s collar jingled like that whenever he got excited, whether it be a pesky squirrel ready to bum off your house food, or maybe a friendly one showing its face to piss off the house dog.

You sigh, and only then notice the delicious scent of fresh coffee roast. Invading through your nostrils and turning you into a drunkard, and you can’t help but gravitate towards-

Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.

“Who's here so early, couldn’t a man enjoy breakfa-”

You smile apologetically, it’s only natural that Fred just woke up. He isn’t a morning person, after years of knowing him you found out one way or another. In your case, he was mean to you and that’s when it clicked. Fred doesn’t like the early hours of morning, where his hair isn’t as tame and his lips feel like they’re about to pop. You find it charming.

“____?”, the man of the hour comes into view, standing at the top of the spiral staircase. The first step is a rung, rolling on the hinges of the wall's edges. The staircase rattles when Fred steps down, and you quickly jump forward in panic.

Mug in one hand, his fingers rake through his mussed morning hair then settles on the checkout counter. “Morning,” He smiles, and those dang smile lines greets you, as if they’re mocking you again.

“Morning, I know it’s early and-”

“It’s okay, have you had breakfast yet?”

Taken aback, you nod. Disappointment flashes through his face, and before you can analyze he straightens. Taking a sip of his coffee and humming, he fixes his pyjama bottoms. Red and checkered, loosely hanging from his hip and giving you a teasing view of his lower abdomen. “Can I get you anything?” he asks again, adamant on offering you something.

You shake your head no and you watch his face fall. Merlin, you would have come starving if it meant having breakfast with him. The view before you is enough to fulfill your darkest fantasies, and this is enough. Because you know that this is all you could get. His friendship.

But is it though? Is it truly enough? Will it ever be enough?

The questions that linger around your head have an answer that you wouldn’t dare set free. Everything you’re doing right now is wrong, how you’re standing in front of him, letting his delicious scent compel you further into him.

He smells almost alluring - he always does - less piquant than yesterday. Probably the after taste of neglecting a shower, yet his natural fragrance is just as charming. You remember those mornings at the Burrow when Fred stumbled down the stairs, sun early and bright, woken up just like himself. He smelled ama-

Woah, down girl.

Fred clears his throat, and only then do you realize how long it has been since you spoke.

“I need to buy something.” you blurt. Fuck, this couldn't get more embarrassing. “For Ted, his gift.” You finish lamely.

“Ah,” Fred chuckles, giving you a quick lookover. You flush. “You have come to the right place.”

It’s true, the shop is truly...something. A gateway to heaven for anyone twelve or younger. Fascinated, you take your time to linger your eyes on every little nook and cranny that catches your eye.

The shop feels much tamer without the telltale rowdy crowd, it’s almost comforting. You can really see a piece of each twin on each display, Fred’s being the Deflagration Deluxe. ‘A deluxe selection of Weasleys’ Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs’ read on the big cardboard. You chuckle, he always had a bag full of them that he carried around religiously.

“Those!” he exclaims, scurrying over to the display, “New and improved by yours truly.”

You chuckle, and Fred breaks out into a smile. “Here, I’ll show you around.” he mutters, before you can utter a protest, he takes your hand in his and drags you to a shelved corridor. “This is his favorite section, explosives and quidditch.”

You smile as you scan the heaps of colorful products lining the walls, all engraved with the shop's signature logo. Fingers coming out to touch a few, you subconsciencly swing your encased hands together. “These are real neat.”

Fred smirks, though his palms feel hotter than usual, “Not so much when he’s blowing up the bloody flat.”

You chuckle softly, eyes fluttering to imagine little Ted shaking up a pair of fireworks, unknowingly setting them off and resulting in a giant black mark on the ceiling. Because only that explains the small black stains on the walls of the shop.

“See anything you like?” Fred offers, almost in a whisper.

“No I,” you turn back to him, and something flashes between the two of you. “I’m still…looking.”

The air feels tense, warm, affecting your body. Your breath catches in your throat, Fred’s eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you don’t know what to do. Even your breathing feels on edge.

He moves closer to you and your heart flutters. His exhales hit your ear, only a breadth away from your neck and you flinch. Chills lift up the hair on your arms, “No...erm.” you mutter.

“Alright.” he says softly.

His eyes are hooded, displaying a perfectly long set of eyelashes.

How, is the question. They’re long and thick, and you’re jealous. Yes, you might have ruined yours with your curler but still, if you were born with eyelashes like that you wouldn’t even need a blasted curler.

“What are you thinking ‘bout.” he whispers, long digit lifting to stroke your cheek. So soft that you barely feel it, before he trails it up your cheekbones, to the panes of your face.

The same alarms blast in your ears, and you can’t ignore them this time. It isn’t that you don’t like this, on the contrary you’re ready to jump him.

“Eva!”

Fred takes a step back, face falling. “What?”

You shake off whatever just happened seconds ago and focus on reality. “Gosh, I forgot to ask.” you exclaim, over excited but at what cost. “How is she doing? Is she up there in the flat?”

Fred winces. “Actually-”

“I’m guessing you guys moved in together, after all those years you know. Don’t tell me you guys got marr-”

“____!” he takes a deep breath, “We broke up a few years ago.”

You freeze. “What?”

They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”

Fred shushes you with a finger. Embarrassed, warmth spreads through you like a tidal wave. “I fell out of love, but it felt nice to have someone around, you know?”

You don’t say anything, yes you know but his loneliness and yours is much too different.

Growing up, Fred had the support of his family, he always had someone there. You knew it was bad to dismiss him like this, but the aching in your heart wasn’t going to allow him to speak like that. He always had someone affirming that it would be okay, someone to pat his back whenever he scored a goal through a hoop, whenever he got a good grade or did a cool trick with his broom. He still had them, even if he was at his worst. He had endless support. You didn’t.

It wasn’t easy after the war, living alone with nothing but the collar of Jambo gripped tightly in your hands. He had died shortly after Voldemort fell, and you had to hang onto the last piece he left until your agony died down. That was your only support.

Ginny, Hermione and Aleyna were there of course, but everyone's way of coping is different, and they didn’t understand yours nor each other’s. It’s worse to try and forget, run away from that fear because it would always catch up with you, and you found that the best way is to sit and feel.

But that doesn't mean your friends weren’t any less supportive. The after effects of the war were way more harsh on you than you let on, you were stuck on autopilot - a painful loop that made your life feel worthless. Work, money, survival - the three main aspects occupying your mind at all times. You didn’t have the love and attention to give to friends or a relationship (maybe that’s why it never worked out) but soon, Ginny and Hermione had reached out to you.

It was a simple letter delivered by their family owl Nebula - a descendant of poor old Errol. You remember tears pooling in your eyes when they told you how much they missed you, they gave meaning to your life. It was no longer the painful loop, they invited you over for dinner, visited every other day after hooking up your house Floo Network, you were always a welcomed guest in their homes.

They made you realize that friendship didn’t need much energy nor hard effort, just being there for each other was enough. Love for someone came naturally, and you didn’t need to extract some of your own self-love to give to others. They were two different things.

Skimming past that, you watch Fred show you three different options of Make Your Own Fireworks kits. You smile solemnly, accept a random one and quietly follow him to the checkup counter.

“So.” he starts, wrapping the product with the paper design you picked. “How about you, anyone special?”

Drumming your fingers on the counter, you shrug. “I dated Theo Nott for a year, I knew nothing would come out of it but like you said, nice to have someone.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Nott? Really?” he frowns. “Can’t believe that tosser managed to-”

You snort, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Shrugging, Fred hands you the package. “Nothing, it’s just that -” he pauses and his eyes look at you like you should know what he’s talking about. As if the two of you have some sort of telepathic connection, Fred was always like this.

He would look at you like you understood a word you said, even though he’s been silent for the past minute or so. He always struggled to express himself, and you’re sad to see that this habit followed him into adulthood.

Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”

“Nevermind,” he sighs. “That’ll be twenty five galleons.”

“Twenty what?” Your eyes widen. “You heartless man!”

Fred gapes at you, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Twenty five, to your oldest pal? Twenty and a stick of gum.”

Fred pretends to think. “How about you keep the gum and give me twenty four.”

“Twenty two.” you narrow your eyes, leaning forward on the counter. “Oh come on, it’s Christmas!”

Fred scoffs,“I am giving you the holiday discount!”

Grumbling, you reluctantly stick your hand in your purse and take out your wallet. “I won’t forget this. You’re in my book.”

Fred gasped dramatically, “Not the book!” he exclaims, “Twenty two then, please for the love of merlin not the book.”

You lift your chin, head tilting to the side to survey him mockingly. “Twenty two it is, you won’t get away so easily next time.”

The two of you giggling, you pay him the money and leave a few sickles. “For the great service.” you say, him pretend-blushing at your words and tucking a strand of his shoulder length hair behind his ear.

He speaks after some time, the laughter has died down and left it’s comforting after taste. “I missed you ____, why didn’t you visit?”

That turns the after taste into pure panic.

How can he ask that when the answer is so obvious. Fred’s still cruel it seems, he doesn’t bat an eyelash as he speaks. He knows the reason.

“Oh you know,” you start after some time, “Work and stuff.” you lie, and fight the urge to cringe at your words.

Though Fred doesn’t buy it, he doesn’t push it either. He simply nods, looking down at the checkout counter. You’re glad he’s avoiding your gaze, because it makes your departure much easier. “See you at the party Fred, thanks for the...uh. Yeah.” you awkwardly lift your bag up and give him a wave before pushing yourself outside. You can finally breathe.

——————

You look good.

Or, at least you think you do.

Blaise was arriving in exactly seven minutes and you barely just put on your dress. You’re sure of this because Blaise is always on time, he even has an unnecessarily expensive watch on his right hand that he obsessively likes to check. At least Aleyna’s into it, frantically trying to strap her heels, she’s wriggling herself towards the front door to somehow track her lover. You don’t know how love works, maybe they can smell each other from a mile away or something.

Shaking your head, you fluff your hair and wipe a hand across your under eye after wetting it with your tongue. You think Aleyna calls for you, you’re not sure because you’re too occupied trying to decide if you’re going to wear lipstick.

“Hey,” you walk out of your bathroom door and scurry towards her, “should I?”

Aleyna raises a brow. You scoff, “Stop doing that, you know I can’t raise mine individually.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“I’m about to make it your problem too if you don’t help me.”

As reflex, you roll your eyes. You only do this because you know it reminds Aleyna of that one chick from Blaise’s workplace - she knows no boundaries, apparently. It’s a shitty move, but it’s a shitty world.

Aleyna carefully inspects the two products you hold tightly between your hands. A simple shimmery gloss and a nude, almost dark red lipstick you stole - borrowed - from her. “Depends, who are you smooching?”

Throwing her an incredulous look, you hold out the two products on your palms. “I’m not smooching anyone.”

Unless of course Fred Weasley asks, if he does you would pull out makeup wipes from thin air and jump into his arms with naked lips ready to be kissed. Though, that’s only a fantasy and Fred is emotionally unavailable...scratch that, you are.

You’re not sure how tonight is going to end, and you can’t help but be aware of that looming clump of anxiety, clutching on your chest and refusing to let go until you're assured that it’s going to be fine.

“The gloss, just in case.” Aleyna stops your train of thought before it trashes off its tracks and crashes somewhere in Fred McDreamy land.

You nod, making no further inquiries and getting yourself ready as best as you can. Fixing your bodice and giving your scar a quick look, you finally hear the doorbell ring after a few long minutes, followed by Blaise’s deep voice greeting his girlfriend. You give the couple a few seconds to smooch - if you will, before walking back to the living room.

Blaise grins when he sees you, he’s wearing a sleek black suit with its first two collar buttons undone - you expect no less class from him.

“Happy Christmas!” you chime, pulling him into a hug and squeezing him tight just enough so you can whisper in his ear. “I hope you picked out the second ring, Zabini.”

Blaise swallows thickly before laughing, you know this because you physically feel him start to sweat. “I swear I did, don’t worry I have a plan.” he winks after letting go.

“I knew you were going to say that,” he loops an arm around Aleyna’s waist and pulls her by his side. “Only the best for my girl.”

Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.

You quickly clear your throat, “Anyways, let’s go before the serenading and the rose petals start.”

The three of you finally leave, the walk down your apartment building feels way too short, and the moment you exit you’re hit with the wonderfully chilly Christmas air.

For a moment, you forget where you’re going.

Lights are hung up everywhere, across shops, tangled through trees and some floating in the air. You can’t see the night sky, Diagon Alley has one of its own, adorned with radiant moons and luminous stars just bright enough for people to navigate themselves through crowds with zero accidents. It feels breathtakingly overwhelming.

Glass ornaments are charmed to fly across, a special show prepared by Madame Mulkin, and Mr. Eyelop tuned in by letting out a few snow owls rest around random trees to add to the warm atmosphere. There’s flavour wafting around the air, you inhale again to identify it better.

Speeding your way through - it hits you, gingerbread and chocolate.

You clutch your bag towards your chest, suddenly you feel disgustingly sappy. Though, you are in public so you decide to shake off that small warmth threatening your heart and continue walking towards Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

The walk towards the shop feels too short again, you almost check your watch to see if Hermione’s playing with the time turner again.

You almost turn on your heel, dump the bundle of presents you’ve bought on their front door and leave. You can, in theory, you’ve separated from Aleyna and Blaise midway through and you can just run and never look back.

Tough luck, when you walk through the generously decorated shop and up the stairs, you’re disappointed to see their flat door wide open.

You stare at it, it feels too inviting. Frank Sinatra blares through the walls, you can smell hints of incense, trailing through your nose and tickling you, causing you to sneeze. You were always sensitive towards smells, and it never bothered you until now.

“Bless you!” George Weasley appears, rounding a corridor and greeting you with open arms into his neat dress shirt. He hugs you like you’re family, and if you weren’t holding a sack like Santa Clause with his your jolly ass hanging on by the mere piece of fabric of your dress you would have hugged back.

“Thanks, Happy Christmas George.” you smile when he takes the sack from your hands and weighs it with raised brows.

“You didn’t have to buy anything ____!” he pats your shoulder, hand trailing to your lower back to navigate you inside. “We are the gift givers, you’re our guest.”

You chuckle, walking through the long entrance corridor, “Of course I’m getting gifts you quack.”

George scoffs, “Using my words against me now are we?”

When you gaze up at the famous joke shop as a little civilian in the streets of Diagon Alley, you don’t expect to catch the sight of a flat this large. You knew it was sizable since two grown men somehow fit and live there, but you underestimated just how successful Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was.

The floors are wood, clean with even several shoes stepping around, chattering with wine glasses in their wobbly hands. A bulletin board hangs next to a quidditch rack filled with different kinds of equipment - old and new.

Too entranced by the cozy interior, you don’t bother stealing glances at the bulletin board. The kitchen and living room are connected, yet they still somehow feel like completely different rooms. The den is lit up by a brick fireplace, lightly crackling and making the atmosphere all the more comfortable. The soft fur (faux you hoped, though Mr Weasley did have a muggle hunting rifle phase which you thoroughly discouraged) carpet tickles your ankles and you have to hold onto George’s arm for support

“Bevvy?” he offers you, holding out a pint beer glass and you shake your head, admiring the apartment further.

Most couches are leather yet they still look comfortable, the kitchen is big but not obnoxiously so, you can hear the clinking of a foosball table - commotion makes sense in their apartment - the wide living space narrows through a corridor, leading to what you assume must be bedrooms.

You’re glad Fred and Eva broke up, because you decide then and there that you’re going to visit the twins everyday despite your history, just to step into this apartment again.

“____!”

Angelina’s sweet voice causes your unease to vanish in an instant and you crush her in a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas!” you smile, looping an arm around her shoulder and letting her guide you through the flat. “You changed your hair!”

Angelina nudges you with her hip, “Thank merlin you noticed, George is clueless.”

“Oh? George? You never told me - Hey Cho!”

You’re cut off by several familiar faces greeting you and telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you do, right next to Hermione and Ginny, two pregnant and fierce women that keep bickering with their husbands because of their weird cravings.

“I’m with you on this one Gin’!” you snort, eyeing Harry. You have a wine glass in one hand and the power you hold makes you feel too confident. “If the woman wants sausages marinated with toothpaste, she’s getting sausages marinated with toothpaste!”

Harry grumbles, “Will you please stop fueling this!” he protests, downing his drink and banging this on the table. “Look sweetheart, you wanted onions and mustard just a second ago so I got you ‘em, what made you change your mind?”

Ginny bangs her fist on the coffee table, in addition to Harry’s outburst. It seemed everyone was banging stuff on tables, so you do too.

“You think I know? Sod off or get me my toothpaste!” Ginny yells, banging another fist after you.

Harry kneels down next to the foot of the couch and holds his wife’s hand, gently massaging her knuckles. “We can’t get you toothpaste,” he says calmly.

“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.

“I think you know why,” says Harry.

“Stop damaging my property.” says George, materializing out of thin air.

You feel bad for Harry, you truly do but it only lasts for a second because this is even more entertaining than watching Aunt Muriel try to play foosball while shouting ‘Come at me you haired back marys!’

You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.

Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.

Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?

He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.

It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.

You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.

You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.

“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.

“Merry Christmas yourself.” he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.

His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.

“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”

Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”

You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.

“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.

Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.

Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”

You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”

“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”

“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.

Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”

When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.

“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”

Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.

Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”

Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”

It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.

“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”

A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.

“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.

You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”

“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”

You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”

You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.

“What I meant to say was, I wan-“

“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”

When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.

The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.

She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.

But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.

Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.

“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.

You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.

Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.

Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.

“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”

Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”

She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.

“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.

Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”

Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.

You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.

Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.

“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”

He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”

“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.

He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”

“Well what changed your mind?”

Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”

“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.

It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.

Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.

The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.

“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.

Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.

You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.

“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.

Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”

You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”

“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”

“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.

Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”

Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”

Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”

Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.

Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.

Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”

“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?

Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”

“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.

“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”

You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.

“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”

Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.

“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “

You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.

“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.

You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.

Eva stutters, “What?”

“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”

“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.

“No, he won’t.”

When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”

She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.

“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”

“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.

“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”

By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.

Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.

Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”

You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.

“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”

Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.

A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”

“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”

You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”

Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.

“Yeah, you!” you cry.

Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.

“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”

——————

Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.

If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?

Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.

You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.

“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”

Fred’s expression softens. “What?”

You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”

Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.

“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.

“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”

Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”

Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”

You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”

You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”

Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”

“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.

“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”

You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.

“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”

Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”

His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”

“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”

Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.

“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”

“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”

Fred freezes - second time that night.

Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.

But it was too late.

Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.

“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.

“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”

You almost swallow your tongue.

Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.

Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.

He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.

“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.

“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”

“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.

“That’s Freddie for you, love.”

Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.

“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.

You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.

“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”

“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”

“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”

“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”

“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”

The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.

“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”

“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.

“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”

That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.

Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”

“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”

You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.

But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.

Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.

Fuck.

It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.

“Finally!” George yells.

Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”

Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.

If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.

Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,

The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.

Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.

Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.

“____.”

You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.

“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.

You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”

“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.

“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.

“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.

You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”

“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”

“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”

George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.

“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”

“Took you long enough.”

He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”

“I won’t.”

Your lie slips so easily.

It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?

You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.

You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?

“____.”

Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.

“____, darling.”

Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.

“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”

Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”

You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.

Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.

“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.

Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.

“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”

There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.

Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“

“Yes it does, and stupid!”

“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”

Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”

“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”

“That doesn’t explain the rest-“

“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.

“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“

“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.

I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.

“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”

Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.

Because this time you know what to do, you know what’s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.

“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”

This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.

————

It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.

Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.

Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.

Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.

Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.

Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.

Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.

And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.

“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.

“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”

Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”

“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“

“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”

You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.

Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-

Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.

You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.

The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.

Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.

Knock Knock

Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”

You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“

By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.

“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.

He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.

“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”

You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.

“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”

“Thank you.”

Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.

As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;

“Fred I-“

“I wanted to-“

Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”

Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?

“Fred,-“

“No, let me finish this time.”

You stay silent.

“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”

“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.

“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”

“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.

“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”

You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”

Fred raises a brow.

“Sorry, continue.”

“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“

You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”

“I did.” you smile.

“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”

“Near what?” You gasp.

Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”

“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”

Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”

“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.

But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.

“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”

Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.

“I was thinking of you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”

Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”

“Oh.”

You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”

“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.

“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”

“Do what?”

Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.

He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.

“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”

He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”

You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”

You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.

True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.

“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”

If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.

“Fred, don-“

Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.

“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”

You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.

“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.

He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.

His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.

Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.

Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”

You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”

Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.

He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.

“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.

“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”

You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”

Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.

His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.

He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.

“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”

“Then - ahh Freddie!”

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”

He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”

You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.

“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.

Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”

His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.

That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.

He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.

“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”

“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.

But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.

Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.

“Really?”

“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”

“Wha- which one?”

“The white one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”

You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”

Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”

You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.

“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.

Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Of course he has abs.

You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into

You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.

“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”

When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.

His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.

Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”

You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”

“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.

Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”

You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”

“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.

“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”

Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”

You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.

Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”

Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.

You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”

“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.

“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”

It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”

The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.

Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”

“I love you too - oh!”

Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”

“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”

His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.

lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.

“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.

“Fred! Oh god - ah!”

Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”

The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”

He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”

It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.

“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”

Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.

“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”

His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.

You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.

Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.

Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.

“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”

Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”

“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”

“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”

Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.

You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”

After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.

The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.

“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.

He hums in response.

“You’re staying over, right?”

Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.

You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”

“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

#fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #harry potter fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #hp smut #fluff #angst #hp angst #reader insert #george weasley #ginny weasley #hermione granger #harry potter

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arcadejohn127-9 · 4 years ago

Note

Can we get the brothers and undatables being at one of Diavolos parties and a nobles starts telling MC that The brothers and undatables don’t really care about them. They start telling them that they are just Diavolos pawn and Lilliths replacement. BTW I love your writing it’s honestly some of my favorite pieces in the fandom.

Some of-of your f-favourite pieces in the fandom??!! Um Chile anyways- OMG!! Y'all are too sweet to me!!! Thank you so much!

I'm not going to lie, I got shocked when I saw another requested this as I just finished writing section for this ask but my brain is dumb and really focused on one sentence and read it utterly wrong

Part 2 - ending

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"ah, so you're the human I've been hearing so much about."

You turned around to see a Noble, you bowed at him with a smile.

"oh- hello, who are you? If the human you've been hearing about is (Y/N) then Yep! That's me!"

"splendid! I'm so glad I finally get to meet you, I've heard so much from Diavolo and news sources, you wouldn't mind humouring me for a dance and talk?"

"it'll be my honour." You took his arm, letting him guide you to the dance floor.

You could feel the brothers eyes on you, watching closely to how you rested your hands on the demons shoulder. All of them slowly stalking as you two danced.

"what is it like being a human in the Devildom?"

"scary...at first but now I feel like it's my home! I really can't imagine being anywhere else."

"free housings, connections to the most powerful beings in this realm and outside, pacts with the the 7 brothers and having them do anything you desire."

"I mean- I guess? It's nothing like that or that I'm using them, it's a long story - I love them all very much."

"you may not be using them but they're definitely using you, we're demons after all and there is nothing more precious to us than a soul likes yours."

You were suddenly pulled through the crowd, his dancing becoming quicker and sharp as if sensing the brothers watching him.

"don't you realize you're just the princes pawn? A small piece of a puzzle of his 'plans' - do you really think a demon of his importance would really care about bringing peace?! It's all but a ruse and you're just helping him fulfil it."

"that's not true! Diavolo is a kind and thoughtful man, he wants peace and I will be a stepping stone for that to happen - after all I am a link to all three realms."

"human with demon pacts and ancestral connections to both the brothers and angels - how is it being the ancestor to Lilith? I heard she was a real doll but such a shame she risked it all for some moral, have they ever compared you two?"

"how do you know about my ancestor? They've- never properly made a comparison and I'm sure they mean it in an affectionate way-!"

"don't you ever feel like a replacement? I heard since the discovery they've treated you even better, that can't be a coincidence."

Your blood went cold as your heart collapsed into your stomach. Your eyes glancing to the brothers In the distance. You knew he wasn't right but apart of you was scared. After all, he knew so much that you didn't think anyone outside of your social circle would know. How did he know all this?

"we went through something really traumatic together, it was bound to make us closer-"

"just admit it, you know you're being use but you just won't accept it because you're scared of facing and truth and being left - is there something unpleasant waiting for you in the human world? Is that why you're so willing to be preyed upon?"

"it's not like that..."

He suddenly dipped you, you clutched to his shoulder as tears glazed your eyes.

"isn't it? Can you confidently say it isn't?"

"yes.." your voice came out shaky and distant, you wanted to be confident but you couldn't.

"they don't care about you, all they want is to use you, make it easier on yourself and leave, run as fast as you can and never come back to the devildom."

Lucifer:

He was the first to reach you after your dance with the Noble

He twirled you so you would face him

"what did he say to you? You're crying."

"it's nothing..."

He opened his mouth to press on but he saw you grit your teeth

Glaring at the dance floor as you two stepped to the music

"If he threatened you then I'll handle him, it's no issue for me to do so."

You just shook your head

"stop being so overprotective, I know you don't actually like having to look after me, just stop forcing yourself."

"That's not true, I look after you because I care about you, it's become more than a duty."

You just clicked your tongue, pushing yourself away from him, disappearing into the crowd

Mammon:

Mammon held your hand, hugging you from behind as you two swayed

"You don't look too happy, are you overwhelmed?"

"I am now that you're here."

Which wasn't a lie, you felt so conflicted and betrayed, having him around just made you want to cry

He frowned, spinning you around

"oi, what's that all about? If I did something you gotta be honest with me,I swear I didn't steal nothing."

"I'd prefer it if you did, then being mad at you wouldn't feel so horrible."

He raised a brow

He was completely confused on why you were acting like this

"Was it that noble guy? Did he say something to you? I swear when I find him-"

You shook your head, moving away from him

"You're not going to do anything, you're a coward - just stop pestering me."

You felt awful but you didn't do anything to fix it, just running away from the shocked demon

Levithan:

"You here to take a break? Join you, I will."

He pointed to the empty spot smiling at himself for his Yoda voice

You wanted to feel bad but right now you were extremely upset

"Yeah, I do, I don't want to be around anyone right now."

"I get that but Lucifer said someone's has to be with you but I don't blame you for not wanting me to do it-"

You snarled

"can you not make this about you?! I just don't wanna deal with anymore demons!"

You shuffled closer into yourself, eyes subconsciously finding the noble you talked to

Levi followed your gaze, his Insecure angst turning into annoyance

"That noble did something....it's okay to speak up, we can go to prince-"

"go away! I don't want to keep hearing you pretend to care about me!"

He was stunned

You suddenly stood up and trudged away from Levi, seeking out the bathroom

Satan:

You ducked away from the crowd of demons

Sticking close to the wall as you clutched your arms

The nobles clawing at your mind as you stared to the side

"Did you enjoy the dancing? You look tired, I know a good hiding spot."

"Where is it?"

"I'll take you there-"

He went to grab your shoulder but you just shrugged him away

Not daring to look at him

"just tell me where it is, I'll get there on my own just fine."

Satan turned his head, trying to get a better look at your expression

But you just stepped away from him

"if you're not going to tell me I'm going to go find it myself-"

He grabbed your wrist, cutting you off

"Was it that noble? What did he say to you?"

His anger flared as he glared at the noble

You Yanked your wrist away, frowning

"wouldn't you like to know?! Just let me- just let me breathe-!"

He paused, inhaling a deep breath

You took that moment to run off, wanting to escape the situation

Asmodeus:

"oh (Y/N)~!! I'm so glad you're finally free, when I saw that guy dancing with you I got so jealous, I thought you were going to give me all your dances?"

He playfully pouted whilst holding your hands

When he saw you weren't smiling his chipper mood immediately dropped

You moved away from him, Unable to pull your thoughts together

"what's wrong..? Did he say something?"

You shook your head

Should you tell him? But what if they treat you different?

What if it really is all a fake?

"I just need to get some air."

"oh! I'll come with you!"

He springed up, grabbing your hand once again

You threw yourself back in panick

"NO-! I mean- no thank you."

You quickly dashed to the nearest balcony ignoring the murmurs in the ballroom

Beezlebub:

You bumped into one of the many buffet tables

Avoiding an active ballroom wasn't easy

"you're not dancing anymore? Want to sit with me?"

You jumped, somehow surprised Beel was at a buffet table

"no....I'm good, I'm going to the dorm."

"Already? Do you need me to walk you home? It's pretty late."

You shook your head

You wanted to chew him out for being so kind of you

Your overwhelming emotions rising as you tried to stay dismissive

"Just tell the Brothers I'm leaving, I think I'm going to head back home."

Beel raised a brow

You looked away from his confused expression

"my real home, I need to leave the Devildom."

"you're upset from your dance with the noble, we can talk about instead of you leaving-"

"I need a break."

You repeated, your voice becoming irritated and cold

You held back your frustration and left the party

Belphegor:

"Are you leaving?"

You yelped, knocking your hand on the main door

You just wanted to slip out of the party but it seems you'd have to confront one of the brothers

Belphegor yawned, rubbing his eye

He was sleeping in the coat closet until you woke him up by your footsteps

"yes- I'm tired of this party."

"I'm tired aswell, let's go together, I'm ready to sleep."

He shuffled out of the closet but you put your hands out Infront of you

"go sleep in the palace, I don't want to be around you or-or any of you-!"

"Was it that noble? I felt jealous when I saw you two dancing together but now it seems I shouldn't of, he said something to you, didn't he? What did he say?"

You didn't even realize he saw you or was awake when that happened

You backed up until you bumped into the door

Belphegor cornered you

Wanting his questions answered but you just shoved him back

"leave me alone-! I know you're just see me as an replacement!"

You slammed the door after you and sprinted back to the dorms

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

"I see you're expanding your circle, I'm glad- why do you look so upset?"

"it's nothing, my Lord-"

You both stopped

You haven't referred to him like that since the beginning of the exchange program

He leaned down to get a better look at you, eyes darting over the conflicted and slightly Horrified expression

Both of your gazes landed on the noble

"What did he say to you? If he made you uncomfortable or threatened you, I'll deal with this-"

He tried to give you a comforting pat on the shoulder but you pushed your body away

"Quit it! Stop trying to act like you care."

You were sure if people saw your interaction they'd be glaring at you

Thinking of your audacity

But Diavolo was worried about you

He knew that Nobel has hurt you

"I do care for you, we all do - please tell me what happened."

You covered your ears, tears pricking your eyes

You shook your head and ran away

Needing space to figure out your thoughts and your emotions

Barbatos:

You trudged past Everyone, growing irritated with yourself

Were you really going to believe that guy? But it seemed to make sense

If it wasn't right then why did you feel this way?

"here, you look as if you need it."

He hands you a handkerchief

You took it slowly, looking at him with distrust

You frowned as he just smiled at you patiently

"why do you even care? Is it because of the prince?"

"I'm simply helping because I desire to, it seems Someone is causing an issue with you."

"Don't you know everything? You should know exactly what's wrong....you don't have to keep acting all vague in hopes it'll throw me off, I know you all are-"

He tilted his head, eyes squinting with an almost annoyed expression

"nevermind....Just leave me alone."

"I will but it is best to remind you that the Noble you're trusting Is not the type of man you want to be around, he is using you not the other way round."

Your froze

Unsure how to respond, you clutched the handkerchief as you gritted your teeth

You quickly ran off not wanting to confront your emotions

Solomon:

Isn't this Fun? I've even made a few pacts whilst here-"

"why are we even here? Do you ever feel like we're not actually wanted? Just being used?"

Your eyes flickered between Diavolo and the noble

Rubbing your arm as you tried to soothe yourself

Solomon followed your eyes

Clicking his tongue

"I see, that nobles gotten to your head, don't fear my apprentice, I'll fix this."

He rolled up his sleeves but you just grabbed his arm

You felt stupid for thinking you two could be on the same thought process

Was it really just the Nobel Getting to you???

But what you're feeling feels so real and so genuine - this feeling of just being a pawn or a replacement to them

"No...it's silly to think we'd be on the same page, they have much more history with you meanwhile all I have is being their sister's ancestor."

You walked off leaving the wizard to mewl over your words

You didn't stay to find out what would happen now that Solomon knew the gist of what the Nobel said to you

Simeon:

As you charged away from the party you suddenly bumped into Someone

Simeon grabbed your arms as he steadied you

But that's when he noticed your teary eyes

"Oh, what's wrong? You look upset."

"I want to leave this party."

You frowned, holding his arms whilst he held you

You glanced at the demons on the dance floor

"Are you sure? The brothers will be upset with your sudden disappearance-"

You huffed

Pushing yourself away from Simeon as. got ready to just leave by yourself

"if you don't take me back then I'll just go myself."

He was caught off by your sudden change in mood

Realizing something really harsh must of happened he grabbed your hands and wiped under your eye

"Wipe your tears, I'm sure Luke will be thrilled to see you in purgatory hall."

And just like that he walked you out of ball

A few shouts from the brothers rang in your eyes but you just sped up your pace

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #gamingclubpresident #aracadejohn217 9 #obey me mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me beezlebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demon brothers #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me levithan #obey me luficer #obey me imagine #obey me x reader

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wackywheel · 3 years ago

Text

OKAY. kudos to @cantbelieveivedonethis for getting the ball rolling on this theory with this post. cannot stress that enough + i dont wanna steal her thunder

ive mentioned previously that ive had this theory for quite some time, so much so that a future plot point of my fic may end up getting spoiled if i talk about it too much but FUCK IT! c!connor lore comes first i’m saying my piece

(readmore for convenience that hopefully works)

The Basics to preface this theory, i would like to remind everyone of one important facet of c!connor's character that feels as though it's been forgotten recently; c!connor views himself as The Main Character. obviously, this isn't anything big in the grander scheme of the server. everyone considers themselves to be the main characters of their stories! but this post is about c!connor, not the rest of the server. (at least, not until a little later)

The Underdog imagine this; it's your first day on the server! your best friend just died. over the course of the next year you'll not only get kicked out of every home you build for yourself, but you'll also get tortured, horribly traumatized, and left to fend for yourself by everyone around you. and yet...

Despite Everything, It’s Still You c!connor still treats everyone that he comes across with kindness and understanding. i won't spend a whole lot of time talking about him as some do, but it's definitely worth mentioning c!tommy's importance to this facet of c!connor's identity. the kid treated him like absolute shit, and still doesn't really take him all that seriously most of the time. despite this, though, c!connor still treats him with respect and kindness, even going so far as to say that he misses him in the same way that he misses c!schlatt. and that's saying something. but, enough about tommy.

when we compile all of these aspects of connor's character and shift our focus to pandora's vault, though, some pieces start to fall into place.

The Hero's Journey an underdog who cares for those around him, despite how they might have once wronged him that's looking for a way to bring himself to the top as not just A main character, but THE main character? someone with a motive to revive his dead best friend, who he's stated that he misses dearly quite a bit? someone that knows exactly WHERE and WHO could possibly give him access to this capability to revive people? hmm...

The Belly of the Beast in case it wasn't obvious already from that last section, here's my claim: i don't think there was ever a fake military id, nor was c!connor arrested whatsoever. i think that he actively went to pandora's vault and asked to be let in in order to try to get the revive book information from c!dream himself. as the title of this section suggests, this would be c!connor's moment where he enters the most dangerous place he's dealt with yet, (i mean, to our knowledge. as of today [2/08/22] we have no clue what c!connor's been up to offscreen if tales s2 does end up showing him doing it!) which holds one of the server's most powerful people.

The Warden's Toll now, here's the part where i completely shift gears and talk about c!sam. y'know, the guy who threw his entire life and almost every real friendship away for the sake of holding c!dream in the prison until he handed over the revive book info? who had dealt with visits going wrong before, to the point that he had to watch a guy get beaten to death and then revived and then traumatized even more than he'd already been before? yeah, that guy! why would he ever let c!connor in the prison?

well, i've actually already answered my own question partly on c!sam's side of things. less so for c!connor, ironically.

The Gamble we know why c!connor wants into the prison. he wants the revive book to bring c!schlatt back. why would c!sam let him in? because the revive book is all that was holding c!dream inside anymore. as soon as the nitty gritty of revival was taken and given to the wider server, (or possibly just c!quackity. you know how he is!) the burden of the prison, of pandora's vault, the one thing that had taken everything from c!sam would have finally been worth it. he could go back to how things used to be before taking up the mantle of the warden!

The Heist so c!connor would be allowed in. not directly to the main cell, of course! the rest of the guards were nowhere to be found, and the incident with c!tommy prior was plenty a reason to not let visitors get locked into the main cell with the main prisoner ever again. so, instead, c!sam took c!connor to a standard cell. later on when the warden wouldn't be as busy, (hopefully because the other guards would show their faces) c!connor would be able to be escorted in to begin the interrogation. it was a perfect plan! all c!connor would have to do is wait for a little while in a normal cell, no biggie!

When Everyone's Super, No-One Is this, obviously, isn't what happened, though. we know the story. the day before the prison break c!ranboo was taken in, c!techno witnessed it, yadda yadda yadda you get the picture. c!connor never got his chance to shine, to be the hero that did a service to his friend and the rest of the server, to be the main character, because another one showed up and stole the spotlight before he could even try, thus shifting the narrative away.

Proof After the Fact okay, enough hypotheticals. what do i have that supports this theory after the fact? simple. this hannah lore stream (if the link breaks in the future, i'm talking about the one from 1/27/22.) in specific, c!sam's kind and neutral treatment of c!connor, even when the guy straight up talks about how he was in the prison prior. wouldn't c!sam have more of a reaction to that if c!connor had actually been being held there for what he claims he was? yes, obviously at the time c!sam was dealing with the fallout of losing his main prisoner, but c!connor is just. so blunt about it? and despite that, c!sam still offers him a job at the bank and everything?

something absolutely does not add up here. hopefully this explains it, though!

#dream smp #connoreatspants #awesamdude #c!connor #c!sam #idk what else to maintag this lol #dream smp analysis #sam and nobody else besides the main man is tagged bc hes like. actually important to this theory lol #everyone else is just mentioned offhandedly

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poisonedapples · 3 years ago

Text

Patton’s Home for Traumatized Kids

Chapter One: The New Kid

Story Summary: Roman has to have a completely new start. New school, new town, new home and a new family. As a kid in his first foster home, Roman isn’t prepared to trust these people and get hurt again, but he’s not the only kid in the house recovering from past issues. Regardless, their foster father Patton is ready to be the dad they’ve always needed, and traumatized kids learn to lean on each other for support.

Story Warnings: Past abuse of all types, trauma, and anxiety

Pairings: Familial LAMP

Chapter Summary: Roman moves into his new foster home. He is not having a good time.

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety, panic, implied past abuse, food, one vomiting mention, and talk of hidden cameras

Word Count: 6778

Notes: First chapter of a story I’ve wanted to make for my foster au! Thanks to Cornybird on Ao3 for beta-ing this one <3

“Logan, Virgil?” Patton called out from downstairs. “Can you come down here? I wanna talk about something with you!”

Virgil and Logan gave each other curious looks from their sitting places on the same bed. Virgil placed his phone on the nightstand beside him as Logan set his book down at the foot of the bed, both standing up to exit Virgil’s bedroom and head downstairs. At the dining room table was their foster father, Patton, smiling wide with a laptop and notepad in front of him.

“What’s up?” Virgil asked after he and Logan glanced at each other.

Patton giggled to himself, “Sit down for a second and I’ll tell you! Nothing bad, promise. I think it’s very exciting.”

They quickly sat at the table on the other side of Patton. “So,” Patton joked, “I bet you’re wondering why I’ve gathered you all here today!”

Logan and Virgil spoke in unison. “You’re getting another foster kid.”

Patton blinked. “…How’d you guess it?”

“You’ve been really happy recently, but also very quiet about why you were so happy. You only get like this when you’re bringing another foster kid into the mix. You did the same thing when Logan came along.” Virgil said.

Logan nodded. “Virgil told me about his suspicions due to your behavior, and I agreed with him. I think we both expected you’d make the announcement soon.”

“Oh.” Patton rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I didn’t think it was that easy to tell. Well, you guessed right! The new kiddo is moving in on Sunday!”

Logan leaned closer. “What’s their name?”

“His name is Roman Goldsberry. He’s fifteen, and he’s only been in the system for about five months. Though, before this, he was in kinship care with his aunt, so living here is going to be very strange for him. So just be patient with him at first, okay?”

“Yeah yeah, we will be.” Virgil smirked. “But you said he was fifteen?”

“Yup! He’ll be a sophomore in high school this year.”

“Aw, that means Logan’s still the baby in the family.”

Logan blushed. “I’m a teenager. I am not the so-called ‘baby’ of the family.”

“Sounds like something the baby of the family would say.”

“Falsehood!”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough.” Patton tried not to laugh. He knew how much Logan hated being the youngest, but it was hard to act like his reaction wasn’t funny. “Remember, Roman will be here Sunday, so be on your best behavior when he gets here. No spooking him.”

“Got it, got it.” Virgil slouched in his chair and thought. “One more question though. How fucked up is he?”

“Virgil, language.” Patton warned.

“Sorry! It’s just a question. We know you have a soft spot for the most effed up kids you can find.”

“I would have to say I’m curious as well.” Logan agreed. “It’s become a pattern.”

Patton sighed. “He’s not messed up, he’s a kid who’s struggling and needs support. If he wants to tell you two about his past, then he will.”

Virgil groaned. “Fine, fine. Can we go back upstairs now?”

Patton smiled. “Yes, you can go.”

“Great! I’m stealing your book, Logan.”

“Wait, you can’t do that!”

Virgil darted back upstairs with a maniacal laugh as Logan chased him, the sound of bickering teenagers traveling back up the stairs. Patton shook his head in amusement, still listening to the ruckus in case it got out of hand and he needed to step in, but Patton knew his kids. They may tease, but they’re not mean.

Patton continued working on his laptop once the noise quieted down again.

***

“I hate this.”

“I know you do, Roman, but I’m certain you can persevere and find happiness in this new home!” Roman’s social worker, Mr. Picani, smiled hopefully as he continued to drive him to his foster home. Roman was scooted as close to the window as he could possibly get, his legs crossed and clamped together so tight his thighs were getting sore. He didn’t trust Picani, and he sure as hell didn’t trust this new house. No matter what anyone told him.

“I already had a home! Living with my aunt was so much better than whatever could happen here.” Roman’s hands shook just thinking about it. He didn’t know anything about this new person, and the idea of being in a house full of strangers was enabling the more gruesome side of his imagination. He trusted his aunt, at least, but now he was going to a family who could be anyone.

Roman didn’t like the idea of that.

Picani frowned. “You know why your aunt couldn’t house you anymore, Roman. I know it’s not easy, but I think you’ll like this new place! It’s more up north in Foley County, and the area is nice. He also has two other foster children if that helps.”

“How old are the other kids?”

“Fourteen and sixteen, I think. You’ll get to know them more during your time there.”

Roman hummed, looking out the window and digging his nails into his shirt sleeve. He really hoped this foster dad hadn’t touched them before. Even forgetting about himself, a fourteen year old kid having to deal with abuse? Even after getting away from bad parents? He didn’t wish that on anyone.

“And if you ever feel unsafe,” Picani added, “you can always contact me, ‘kay?”

I already feel unsafe. “Okay. How much longer until we’re there?”

“About twenty more minutes. Just enough time to finish the rest of the Tangled movie soundtrack!”

Roman didn’t respond. Normally, he’d love to have a Disney soundtrack he could burst into song with, but he wasn’t feeling it today. And probably wouldn’t be feeling it for a long time.

He just wanted to feel safe. He felt safe with his aunt, but she couldn’t afford to keep him long after the trial since she gave birth to the twins. His aunt was always one of his favorite relatives, one of the few adults he genuinely trusted, now he was going to the house of some random guy named Patton, who he’d only heard of yesterday, and expected to be okay near him. Well, he wasn’t okay. And he wasn’t going to be, ever.

Roman leaned his head on the window and closed his eyes. His hands still shook a little and his chest felt weird, but fighting it now was pointless. Roman just hoped that if this guardian did try something, he’d do it quickly. The sooner Roman told on him to save himself and the other kids, the better.

Though, Roman still felt his hands tingle at the thought. The idea of “getting it over with” made him want to scream and cry. He wrapped his legs tighter together.

After a long time of trying to fight against his own anxious thoughts, Picani pulled into a driveway and stopped the car and Roman opened his eyes to take a look at where they were. He didn’t know the neighborhood, but it seemed like Picani was telling the truth when he said the neighborhood was nice. The house seemed huge, big bushes and flower patches in the front yard and a nice outside paint job. It looked like a house that a functional nuclear family would have, where the dad is a doctor and the mom stays at home with the kids.

Well, looks can be deceiving. Roman thought. Don’t get your hopes up.

“Here we are!” Picani unbuckled his seatbelt with a wide smile. “Grab your suitcases in the back, I’ll knock on the door.”

Roman nodded and got out of the car as Picani popped the trunk. He grabbed two red suitcases and a backpack, closing the car and wheeling it all up to the front door. Picani was there talking to a guy who Roman assumed must be Patton Sanders, and by taking just one look at him…Roman had never seen a person look so much like a dad.

He was wearing khaki shorts and a light blue polo with tennis shoes and knee socks, thick-rimmed glasses sitting on his face to finish off the dorky look. Patton managed to pull it off, sure, but Roman felt a primal urge from binge-watching Queer Eye to fix that mess of an outfit.

Before Roman could truly take in the fact that Patton’s knee socks also had kittens on them, Patton smiled wide once he saw Roman in the corner of his eye. “Hello, Roman! It’s so nice to have you, come on in you two!”

Patton stepped aside to hold out the door as Picani and Roman both walked in. Roman scraped his arm on the door frame trying to keep a reasonable distance from Patton, but neither of the adults seemed to notice how Roman was acting. Patton kept smiling away, and Roman tried to see how real that smile truly was. “So, Mr. Picani, I know I have some things to go over with you, so how would you feel if the other kiddos showed you around the house, Roman?”

…Kiddos? “That sounds fine to me.”

“Perfect!” Patton walked over to the staircase and called upstairs. “Logan, Virgil! Can you come down here please?”

Patton’s request was quickly followed by the sound of doors opening and closing. Two kids walked down the stairs; a boy in a black and purple hoodie, and another boy with thick glasses almost the same as Patton’s. They both stared at Roman curiously, and Roman wanted to sink into the floor.

Patton placed an arm over Logan and Virgil’s shoulders and Roman winced at the sight. “So, kiddos, this is Roman! And Roman, this is Logan,” Patton pointed to the kid in glasses. “And Virgil!” He pointed to the kid with the hoodie. The boys didn’t react much besides an awkward half smile directed Roman’s way. “How about you both show him around while I talk to Mr. Picani?”

Virgil shrugged. “Come upstairs, dude.”

Patton let go of both of the boys and walked off into the kitchen with Picani. Roman watched them from the living room for a moment, but he could feel two pairs of eyes staring at him from behind, so he turned around and followed the kids upstairs, bringing his luggage with him.

At the top of the stairs, a long hallway connected six doors on the second floor. Four of the doors were plain, brown doors, but two of them had very distinct personalities shown on the outside. One was covered in stars and planets, the door covered in a starry piece of wallpaper with a metal planet popping out of the background. The other was covered in caution tape saying keep out, with emo band posters poking out from under the tape. Two very different personalities.

“Your room will be this one at the very end of the hallway.” Logan opened the door to the room, turning on the light as Roman peeked inside. “You can place your luggage in here in the meantime.”

Roman nodded and walked inside to throw his luggage onto the floor. The room was very bare, with brown sheets on a twin bed and not much other furniture besides a desk and a dresser. There was a lamp on the desk and a floor lamp next to a door, and one of the opened closet doors showed that the top was covered in random boxes. Some newer-looking stuffed animals were also sitting on the bed; a soft bear and one of those squishy stuffed chickens Roman always saw in stores. It looked like an attempt at a welcoming gift, but new stuffed animals always put Roman on edge. He looked around the room, and the idea of sleeping here made Roman’s heart start to pound. He needed to check this place before he went to sleep that night.

Virgil smirked, taking Roman away from his anxious thoughts. “Damn, you’ve got suitcases? Living the fancy life I see.”

“…What?” Roman reeled.

Logan adjusted his glasses and crossed his arms. “Most foster children move their things using garbage bags. It’s rare we use actual suitcases.”

Roman looked down at his luggage. Suddenly, he felt guilty. “Oh, well…my aunt gave them to me before I moved out, so…”

Virgil shrugged. “What do you wanna see up here first?”

“We could show him our rooms. Or possibly the attic?”

“The attic is cooler.”

“What’s in the attic?” Roman asked.

“It essentially acts as a playroom.” Logan explained. “Board games and a…random assortment of items are all piled up there. It’s quite entertaining to search through, actually.”

“And it’s in the best place ever, come here.” Virgil motioned for Roman and Logan to follow him. He stopped at one of the doors, opening it and letting Roman peek over his shoulder to look inside. It looked like a normal walk-in closet, first aid and toilet paper on one side with batteries and rows of shampoo on the other. Virgil walked in with a smirk, “Now, check this shit out.”

Virgil jumped and pulled on a string dangling from the roof, unraveling a steep staircase through the closet leading up to a hole in the roof. Virgil started to climb the stairs as Logan followed suit, so Roman climbed right after them.

When Roman made it to the top, his eyes widened with wonder. Granted, it wasn’t anything too spectacular, surely not like something in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory, but the fact that this hidden space existed made Roman feel excited. At his old house, he barely even had his own room to himself, so a place like this was paradise.

The walls were painted white with a giant window above a sitting area on the other side of the room. Shelves of items scattered the walls, and the rug on the floor was so clean Roman wondered how they even got a vacuum up here. It wasn’t anything like his old attic, stuffed with random items from over the years and covered in spiderwebs. Roman felt like he could spend most of his day here.

“We have a lot of various toys up here.” Logan said. He gestured to the boxes on one of the shelves. “Pokémon cards, a chess set, Magic the Gathering, lots of Lego sets, craft supplies, most of our toys make their way up here.”

Roman’s head perked up. “…Craft supplies?”

Logan nodded. “I believe we have paints and drawing utensils.”

Roman looked at the bottom of the shelf Logan gestured toward. There was a box of small painting canvases with paints and brushes, and though they definitely looked cheap, Roman saw them and grew excited as he took out a canvas and the paints in wonder.

“Kiddos!” A voice yelled from the staircase. Logan and Roman walked over to the stairs to look down, but Virgil stayed in his place on a beanbag near the window. Patton and Picani stood at the bottom, and Patton smiled. “Now, what are you all doing up there?”

“We’re showing him around the house.” Logan said matter-of-factly.

“You are, huh?” Patton crossed his arms. “Does he know where the bathroom is?”

Logan blinked. Virgil called out from behind both of them. “He knows where the important things are!”

Patton tried not to smile, but he lost that battle quickly. “Well, Mr. Picani is leaving right now, Roman.”

“How ‘bout you come down here and I talk to you in private for a sec?” Picani asked.

“Uh, alright!” Roman climbed down the stairs and followed Picani out of the closet, while Patton climbed up the stairs into the attic. They both stepped away to the other side of the hallway, and suddenly Picani’s face became very serious.

“Do you feel safe in this house, Roman?” He asked.

Roman clenched his fist and bit his cheek. No, he didn’t, actually. He didn’t know what Patton would do once the coast was clear from guests, and the idea of what could happen was freezing him from the inside out. The only place Roman would feel truly safe was if he was back in the hospital.

But Roman knew that wasn’t possible, and he couldn’t keep bothering Picani all the time for fears that couldn't be helped. He had to be on his own. Alone.

“I think I do. They…seem like good people.” Roman lied. He’d have to find another way to survive.

Picani smiled, not noticing Roman’s unease. He always was a great actor. “Amazing! Let me know if anything comes up, bucko, and I’ll talk to ya again soon! But until then…so long, farewell, auf wiedersehen goodnight!”

Picani walked downstairs and waved behind him, laughing at his own reference as he walked out the door. Roman watched him from the staircase until he could see the car leaving the driveway through the window, and Roman felt truly hopeless. This was a nightmare.

He stood frozen on the staircase for a while, staring through the window with a hope of Picani turning back and saving him. But no car came into the driveway, and Roman didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. What do you even do when living in a house full of strangers?

“Heya, kiddo!” Roman jumped at the voice coming from behind him, jerking his head back and pushing his back up against the wall. It was Patton, smiling wide with a concerned look in his eyes at Roman’s reaction. “I’m sorry, Roman, I didn’t mean to scare you! I just wanted to ask if you wanted me to give you the rest of the tour. I’ll show you everything you need this time!”

Patton laughed at himself, but Roman felt the need to vomit. Patton was close, way too close, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t want to be roaming around the house with him, vulnerable and nowhere to hide. He needed to be somewhere safe.

“Uh, no, I’m fine! I’ll figure it out myself!” Patton raised an eyebrow at him, but Roman didn’t care. “Where’s the bathroom?”

Patton’s voice became softer. He pointed to the left of him, down the opposite direction of Roman’s room. “It’s over there. Are you sure you’re alright? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine!” Roman darted past Patton quickly and out of reach, rushing into the bathroom and locking it behind him. He pressed his back against the door and sat down, pressing his feet against the sink, ready to fight against the door if someone tried to open it. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, trying to even out his scattered breathing. He knew Patton was outside of the door, he could feel it. He just needed to be somewhere safe.

Roman didn’t move from his spot on the floor, eventually curling into himself and resting his head on his knees. He was so tired, the whole day his heart had been pounding with anxiety and he was sick of it. What did it take to feel safe? Was it even possible for Roman to feel safe anymore?

He didn’t want an answer to that. He was just so tired.

Roman closed his eyes and leaned his body against the bathroom wall, ignoring all his aches from the strange position and trying to give himself some comfort. His body was exhausted but his mind kept racing, thinking of all the things that could go wrong while living here. He tried to fight the anxious thoughts, but Roman figured it wasn’t that big of a deal. If he threw up in the toilet maybe they’d leave him alone for the day.

But Roman never got to that point. He rested on the floor and let his body shake, taking some deep breaths at times to feel less like he was suffocating. Eventually, a knock came to the bathroom door, and it took everything in Roman not to yelp.

“Are you still in there, Roman?” Roman could tell the voice was Logan, and that helped him relax a little more. He took in a big breath and tried to act normal.

“Yes, sorry. Do you need it?” He asked.

“I’m alright. I simply wanted to ask if you wanted to come downstairs and use the paints you seemed so interested in.”

Roman’s ears perked up at that. He forgot all about the paints, and it would be something that could ease his mind a little. But Roman wasn’t that dumb. He knew this was a plan to get him out of the bathroom. Though…he might not mind that much if he wasn’t alone.

“…Would you sit with me?” Roman asked. He doubted Patton would try anything so long as they weren’t alone together, and if he pleased them enough, maybe they’d leave him alone.

Logan was slow to respond. “I suppose I can if you wish for me to.”

Roman rolled his eyes at that sentence. What a nerd, he thought, standing up and slowly unlocking the door to the bathroom before opening it. He looked through the crack to check if Patton was standing behind Logan, but no one else was there. Logan stood there patiently with his hands clasped behind his back, and Roman fully exited the bathroom.

“I set the box on the dining room table. However, Patton is also there making a pizza for dinner.”

Roman froze. The same room as Patton? “… I’ll go, but you have to stay near me.”

Logan nodded. He led the way down the stairs while Roman followed, entering the dining room through the connected area in the living room. On the table was the box of painting supplies, and Roman ran toward them to start taking them out, trying to ignore the fact that he could see Patton in the corner of his eye. He grabbed a canvas and the cheap paints, as well as a plastic pallet and all the brushes. All that he needed was a cup of water, but…the sink was right next to where Patton was.

Roman drummed his fingers on the table. “…Logan, can you get me a cup of water?”

“Alright.” Logan stood up and grabbed a cup from the cupboard, filling it with water and handing it to Roman. Roman murmured a thank you, and Logan sat back down at his seat. He was grateful that Logan didn’t ask why Roman couldn’t get it himself.

“So, Roman,” Roman stiffened at the sound of Patton’s voice. “Are you an artsy kid?”

Roman gripped hard onto his paints, squirting out a lot more orange than he meant to. “I guess, yeah. I like art.”

“Do you like to paint, or are you more of a sketchy kinda guy?”

“Uh…all of it. Painting, drawing, coloring, I used to make a lot of stuffed animals too.”

“Awww, that sounds adorable!” The oven beeped and Patton put on his oven gloves and pulled out the pizza. “It’s probably best I don’t know how to make stuffed animals though. If I did, this house would be full of little stuffed puppies!”

Roman didn’t respond. He focused completely on mixing red and orange for a perfect sunset color, attempting to get a good gradient with the lack of shade variety. Once he filled in his sunset and blended it with a dark night sky, he mixed his white with a dot of gray and made darker clouds, dotting them above his rough-looking hill. He wanted to add more texture to the bottom of the canvas, maybe some trees, but he didn’t know how to make good ones without a fan brush. Maybe he could add some grass…

“Alright, the pizza is cooled down and ready!” Roman noticed Patton put a plate next to his painting, so he pushed all his supplies out of the way so he could eat. Patton set down more plates around the table as Virgil walked in. “It was a real pizza work if I do say so myself!”

Logan rolled his eyes and Virgil held back a snort, but Roman didn’t quite know how to react. He might have found the dad joke more amusing if he wasn’t so on edge.

Roman took a bite of the pizza. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just a store-bought one that you heat up in the oven and serve, but Roman didn’t realize he was so hungry until now. He had skipped lunch because his nerves about coming here were making his stomach churn, but finally having food near him was bringing back that hunger. Roman’s foot was still tapping violently under the table, but it was progress.

Everyone ate their pizza in silence. It was incredibly awkward on Roman’s end, no stories to tell as this table full of strangers kept making glances at him. Patton was the worst with it. He seemed to want to say something to Roman, continuously making eye contact with him until Roman looked away, but still not saying a word. He couldn’t take it. He hated it, but he hated this silence even more. Roman swallowed the pizza bite he was chewing and opened his mouth.

“So,” Roman started, “what do I…call you anyway?”

“Me?” Patton asked, his eyes lighting up. Why would his eyes light up at that?

“Yeah. Do I say Mr. Sanders, or…?”

“Oh, Patton works just fine! I hear Mr. Sanders way too often at work to wanna hear it at home too!”

“Oh, where- where do you work?” At least it wasn’t so quiet anymore.

“I’m a nurse practitioner for a clinic. It’s a lot of fun, just a lot of work. At least my hours aren’t as crazy as most nurses.”

“Oh that’s…cool.” Roman didn’t know how to continue off of that.

“It is! Is there anything else you wanna ask me, though? Maybe about the house, routines, anything?”

“Well…what are the rules here?” That seemed like a very safe question to have. It could save Roman a lot of trouble, and it could give him more of a read on the kind of parent Patton was.

“Oh, it’s not that much. You’re old enough to clean up after yourself, so make it a habit to pick up your own things and not put that stuff on other people. Be kind to everyone else, and the only rule I’m very strict about is no yelling. You can be loud sometimes, but no angry yelling at anybody here. The last one is to respect others’ privacy. Always knock on someone’s bedroom door before entering. But that’s really it, I think!”

How often do you break that last rule? “That seems reasonable, I suppose.”

Patton smiled. “I think you’ll do just fine here, kiddo. I know it’s hard to start over, but you won’t be alone during it!”

“…Thank you.”

“And I’m sure Virgil and Logan could help out a little bit, since they’ve been in the same situation! Right, you two?”

Virgil was halfway through trying to stick a whole piece of crust in his mouth. “…Uh huh.”

“…Virgil, chew your food.”

“Lo’an ‘old me I cou’ do it!”

“Do not drag me into this.”

Virgil hid his mouth behind his hand as he chewed for a long period of time. “You’re just avoiding your responsibility.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m finished, so try not to choke now.”

“Now I’m gonna choke just to spite you.”

“Please do not start a choking contest, Virge.”

Virgil groaned before swallowing the last of his crust. He followed Logan to the dishwasher and put his plate in, closing it and scurrying away back upstairs. Logan hesitated leaving the dining room, looking between Patton and Roman. Roman couldn’t tell if Patton noticed Logan’s hesitation or if it was just perfect timing, because he also got up and put his plate in the dishwasher.

“When you finish, Roman, just put your dishes away.”

“I can do that.”

Patton smiled and walked off into the living room, sitting on the couch to watch some TV show seemingly about cute puppies and kittens. Logan glanced at Roman again.

“Do you still want me to stay?” Logan asked.

Roman ate the last of his pizza and pushed his plate to the side, grabbing his painting again to put in front of him. It was the most effective thing at calming him down. “…No, I should be okay.”

Logan nodded and walked upstairs. Roman tried to fully immerse himself in his painting, focusing on every last detail and how he could make it better without over-detailing it. Roman put more green on his brush and started to dot at his hill on the bottom, trying to add little blades of textured grass. It was a long process, just enough to take the majority of his focus and calm his hands.

…Roman felt really weird here. It didn’t feel like he lived in this house, now. It felt like he was spending the day with some friends, and his aunt would come pick him up before the sun went down. But no, these new kids were his foster brothers and the adult he was terrified of was expected to act as his new dad. There was no one coming to save him, he was expected to sleep here and eat here and live here. This was supposed to be his safe space.

Roman rubbed at his eyes and shook his head. Don’t focus on that now, he thought. Focus on the painting.

So he did focus. He focused on monotonous texture additions and watching the paint dry on his canvas as he went along, letting the repetitive action calm his mind just a little bit. His calming method seemed to be working too well, actually, as the more details he added and stared at the paint, Roman realized that his constant panic today had completely exhausted him. It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet and Roman could feel his eyelids get heavier. He rubbed at his eyes again and tried to focus.

Roman yawned once. He yawned twice and rubbed his eyes as he kept adding minor details to his painting. Then, after a while, Roman scooted his painting to the side and laid his head down on the table.

***

“…Roman, wake up, please.”

Roman buried his head deeper in his arms. “Come on Roman, it’s late.”

Roman groggily lifted his head up. Patton was sitting in the chair across from him, the lights were all off except for the one light above the dining table. Roman looked around him, and noticed that it was dark outside now. Shit.

“You fell asleep, but that’s okay. It’s bedtime now, and the other two are already in bed, so how about you go get ready and sleep in your bed? I bet it’s comfier than the table.”

Roman dug his palm into his eye. “…What time is it…?”

“About 10:20. You all have bedtime at ten.”

“…But I’m fifteen?” Roman gave Patton a confused and sleepy look. He hasn’t had a bedtime since he was twelve, especially one that was so early. His mom only told him to be in bed by midnight.

Patton smiled. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Logan is the only one who needs a bedtime, but I don’t want him to feel left out because he’s the only one asleep. So, how about you get ready for bed?”

Roman nodded and got out of his chair. The more he walked, the more he woke up, and he could tell by the time he went back upstairs that he wasn’t going to go back to sleep for a while since he could feel his heartbeat in his chest again. Patton followed him upstairs, turning off the dining room light as they went. Roman got his bathroom bag out from his smaller suitcase and a cotton shirt with sweatpants for pajamas, bringing it all with him to the bathroom. He closed the door as he brushed his teeth for the night, placing his bag in the bottom drawer after he did. He changed into his pajamas carefully, taking the towel on one of the racks to hide his lower half under as he switched pants, taking his other clothes and throwing them into a laundry basket.

When Roman stepped out of the bathroom, Patton was leaning against a wall waiting for him. He smiled at Roman, but Roman still ran past him to get as far away as he could get. Patton didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. Roman shifted on his feet awkwardly before closing his door.

“Um…goodnight.” He finally said. Patton seemed satisfied with this.

“Goodnight, Roman.”

Roman finally closed the door to his bedroom, waiting until he heard the door on the other end of the hallway open and close. Almost immediately after, as if another force was controlling him, Roman started to tear the place apart.

He checked the charging ports in the walls, the lamp, under the bed’s covers and behind every piece of furniture. He stood on top of his suitcase to check the vents and took out all the drawers in the dresser. He punched the stuffed animals to see if he could feel wires, but he still couldn’t find it. He couldn’t find it.

Roman felt himself start to pant. He refused to go to bed until he found it. No matter how well hidden it was, Roman knew there was a camera in here. He couldn’t stop until he found it.

Roman grabbed the boxes at the top of the closet and tossed everything out of them, checking every spare blanket and binder before throwing them across the room when he found nothing. He took the hangers out of the closet and threw them on the floor, shining his phone light on the wall of the closet to find a hole. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

Tears sprung into Roman’s eyes as he choked on his own breath. “Where the hell is it!?” He whispered, slamming the closet door closed and moving to check the bed. He tore the bedsheets off and checked the mattress, lifting it up as well to check the bed frame for anything that could be used to record. Nothing.

“Come on, please-” Roman took out the drawer from the bedside table. Nothing. He unscrewed the lightbulb from the lamp, almost shattering it from his tight grip. Nothing. He threw the lamp onto the bed and kicked the nightstand over. Nothing.

Roman choked out a sob as his whole body started to shake. This wasn’t fair, he spent all that time trying to get away from his dad only to end up in a place that hid cameras better than him. Roman gripped the covers he’d thrown and punched the floor next to them, the ache being an almost pleasant distraction from his own head. But his mind continued to race and his crying didn’t let up. The only thing Roman could manage to get out of his mouth was “No, no!”

Then, between Roman’s sobbing, he heard a knock at the door.

Roman froze in place. A feeling of dread spread through his chest and made his fingers go numb. For a second, Roman forgot to breathe as he remembered he forgot to lock the door.

Roman’s body was stiff, but his mind was going a mile a minute in a desperate attempt to save himself. He could hide in the closet, but since he tore everything out of there, if someone opened the door they’d immediately find him. He could hide under the bed, but without the covers to reach the floor it was easy to see he was under there. Roman choked on his own breath when he realized there was nowhere to hide-

“Roman?” The knock came back to the door, gentler than the first time. It wasn’t Patton’s voice like Roman feared, it was Virgil. Raspy and tired-sounding, but without a doubt Virgil.

“Y-yeah?” Roman squeaked out.

“Uh, can I…can I come in?”

Roman’s death grip on the covers loosened up slightly. “Yes…”

Virgil slowly turned the doorknob and opened it, slipping in through the smallest crack and closing the door slowly so it wouldn’t click. Once he was inside, Virgil’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of the destroyed room. “…Holy shit dude.”

Roman tried to dodge the situation, “What do you want?”

“I was gonna come in here and make a joke, like, ‘quiet down it sounds like a tornado is going through here’, but now I think I predicted the fucking future.” Roman put his head down as Virgil looked around in shock. “What the fuck happened?”

Roman wiped away his tears with the palm of his hands, digging into his eyes so hard he saw stars for a moment. “…There’s a camera in here.”

Virgil backed up more towards the door. “Wait, there is?” He darted his eyes around the room looking for what Roman was talking about. Roman let out a shaky breath.

“I haven’t found it yet, but I know it’s in here somewhere!” More tears went down Roman’s face as he hugged himself. Virgil seemed to realize what Roman was babbling on about. “I know Patton put a camera in here for me and I’m freaking out because I can’t find it!”

Virgil looked around at the mess again. He sighed. “I’m not good at this shit…you’re certain it’s in here?”

“Yes!”

“Hey, hey, don’t yell.” Virgil warned. “Pat and Logan are still asleep and I don’t think you’d like all that extra attention right now.”

He was right. If Logan and Patton came in here, Roman didn’t know what he’d do about it. It was the last thing he wanted, so Roman obeyed. “I just…I don’t know what to do…I can’t sleep until I find it.”

Virgil seemed to be thinking. He tugged on the neck of his pajama shirt before speaking. “How about we both make a deal?”

Roman lifted his head up to look at Virgil. “…Deal?”

“We’ll trade rooms for the night. There wouldn’t be a camera in my room if he’s trying to watch you, right?”

Roman paused. “…What if he’s watching you too?”

“I’ve lived here for two years. You think I wouldn’t have noticed a camera in my room by now?”

Roman thought about it. He did have a point, it was hard to go that long without finding the camera. Or at least, have your guardian have it slip that they’ve been watching you. And anything was better than staying in this place.

“…We can trade. Thanks.”

Virgil shrugged. “You know where my room is. Just slip in and don’t wreck all my shit.”

Roman laughed a little bit at that one. Virgil grabbed the sheets and covers off the floor and began to remake the bed as Roman grabbed his backpack and started to slowly open the door. But before he left, Roman had to say one more thing for his own piece of mind. “…Don’t touch my suitcases. I-I’ll know if you do.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. “…I won’t.”

Roman opened the door and softly closed it behind him, slipping into the room next door covered in caution tape. He turned on the light and set his backpack down on the floor, looking around him at all the things that showed Virgil’s personality. Emo band posters covered the walls that were painted a dark purple, with dark wood furniture and Hot Topic decorations all over the place. Just looking at this room told him how angsty this kid was.

Roman shook it off and unzipped his backpack. He could deal with angsty decorations for the night, so long as this place could be safe from creeps. He took out his secret weapon from his backpack, something he secretly bought behind his aunt’s back with his babysitting money, the one item that made him feel secure in a home. He pulled out the security bar, locked Virgil’s door, and placed it under the door handle. Even if someone undid the lock, they wouldn’t be able to sneak inside while he was sleeping.

Roman’s heart calmed down a little for the first time in weeks. Even if it wasn’t much, he felt safe, maybe even safe enough to get some rest for once. Roman crawled into Virgil’s bed, covering himself in his very tasteful Jack Skellington covers, and tried to rest.

Roman’s hands still shook, and his head felt funny, but he eventually drifted off into a light sleep full of anxiety and nightmares.

303 notes · View notes

supercorpkid · 3 years ago

Text

Once Upon a Time in…

Storybrooke.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Emma Swan x Reader, Regina Mills x Reader, Snow White x Reader, Prince Charming x Reader.

Word Count: 2900.

Previously on the series - Neverland, Camelot

“So we’re back at square one.” You sigh, looking at Henry, while he is reading his enormous book.

“Not entirely true. We know that we have to lift the curse so you can leave, and that we have to do it fast before you become a character of the book.” He says, without raising his head at you. You’re almost arguing when a plate with at least 20 pancakes is placed before you. That stops your mind mid-rant.

“Thanks, Granny.” You smile at her, who smiles back before leaving. “Except that we don’t know who cursed the town, so I might as well embrace my fate of being a fairytale character right now and forever.”

“You know, there is another way.” He finally looks at you and you encourage him with an eyebrow raise. “Too risky and honestly? I don’t even know if they would agree to it…”

“Would you go on with it already? No need to build up the climax, we’re already past that.”

“Another curse.” Henry says and you furrow your brows. Having two curses surely doesn’t sound like the solution. “A liftable curse, of course.”

You just blink at him when he doesn’t say anything for a while.

“Ok, what if my mom cursed you into believing you’re a part of the story? You would be written into the book-” You open your mouth to argue. “But it comes from someone who knows and can undo it. So, when the time comes, she lifts the curse and you’re not in the book anymore.”

“Uh.” You think about it for a second. “Sounds like it could work. It would be like if we had a countdown watch and after your mom’s curse it would just pause it.” You say and he nods in agreement.

“The protection spell around town gets lifted and she undoes your curse right after. The countdown restarts but you would be ready to leave.” He finishes your train of thought. “Only thing is whether she will agree to this.”

“Well, we’ve got to try, right? Might be our only hope.” You’re almost out of the booth when you look at the pancakes in front of you. “Give me a minute.”

“Can’t believe you’re thinking about food right now.” Henry rolls his eyes at you.

“Can’t believe you’re not.” You say inhaling the food in front of you in exactly one minute. “Ok, I’m done.”

“This was traumatic to watch.”

You ignore him and you both run out of Granny’s to Regina’s house at the end of the main street. You try to go slower so he doesn’t fall too far behind, but you’re still in front of her house way before he gets there.

“Next time, give me a ride.” He is breathing hard next to you but recovers faster than normal. “Mom? Are you here?”

“In the kitchen, kid!” You hear Emma’s voice, and you follow Henry to it. You find both Regina and Emma making breakfast together. The scene doesn’t fail to bring tears to your eyes. It’s too familiar. “Oh, you guys are together, great!”

“We think we have a, well, it’s not a solution. It’s more like a-” Henry looks at you.

“Band-aid.” You give them a forced smile.

“Let’s hear it.” Regina asks and you and Henry do your best explaining the whole thing. “So I would undo the curse and she’ll leave, huh?”

“I know it’s not ideal but-”

“But it’s pretty good.” Emma says. She comes closer to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Are you sure about that, though?”

“No. I know nothing about magic.” You shrug. “If this was science or anything related, I would probably be sure, but this is outside my area of expertise. If you two think it could work, then I trust you to bring me back when it’s time.”

“You should know all magic comes with a price.” Regina adds.

“What’s the price?”

“We’ll learn about it later.” She raises an eyebrow at you. You think of Lena and how you need to go back home to see her eyebrow raise.

“I’ll pay.”

“Well, then hold on to it, kid.” Regina says with a smile. “You’re about to become a fairytale character.”

You and Henry look at each other. As good of an idea this was, you didn’t consider all the outcomes. You’ll become a fairytale character; you won’t remember anything about your actual life. You won’t remember your moms, aunts, cousins, girlfriend, grandmas… You know it’s what you have to do, if you ever want to make it out of this reality and back into yours, but still. Not remembering Jamie’s laugh, Maya’s kisses, Kelly’s comfort, Alex’s shoulder squeezes, Lillian’s head tilt, Eliza’s soft voice, Lena’s green eyes, Kara’s smiles, it almost makes you want to forget about this and find another way.

“Ok, the curse is ready.” Regina says and you look up, coming back from your thoughts.

“Smells funny.”

“I know, sweetheart. It's a curse. It's not meant to be pleasant.” She says, making your heart beat faster on your chest. You hold your necklace strongly in your hands; remember your family one last time. Then close your eyes.

“Yay, food!” You open your eyes and look at your moms on the other side with a stack of pancakes in front of them.

“Hey, leave some for your brother.” Regina says, stopping you before you grab all of the apple pancakes she has made.

“Fine, you can have one, Henry.” You joke, putting just one on his plate from the stack in front of you.

“Be nicer, honey.” Emma kisses the crown of your head, before sitting next to you. You smile, putting two more on his plate.

“There, you’re eating just as much as me now.”

“Listen kids, today Emma and I will be working with Mr. Gold to see if we can lift the protection spell around the city. You two will spend the day with the Charmings.”

“Oh, come on, moms. We’re old enough to help!” Henry says and you agree.

“Of course you are. And we will need your help when the time comes. Just, well, you know how is like to work with Mr. Gold-”

“Always an adventure.” You and Henry say in unison.

“Something like that.” Emma agrees looking like she wanted to disagree, instead. “Besides, I thought you had archery lessons with your grandma today?”

“Yes!” You agree, excitedly.

“And Henry, you will be hanging out with your grandpa at the station, right?” She gets his answer in the form of a nod. “Well, great, we’re all very busy today. But we’re still meeting at Granny’s tonight for dinner, ok?”

“Sure thing, mom.” You get up and kiss her head. “See you guys later, I’m late to meet grandma.” You kiss Regina’s head right after. “Bye, mom. Squirt, wanna a ride?”

“Stop calling me squirt.” Henry complains, getting up from the table. “See you later, moms.” He follows you to the front of the house. “Don’t run so fast, I just ate.”

“You know I only have two speed levels. Fast or breaking the sound barrier.” He jumps on your back and out you go, fast enough to be at the station in a blink of an eye. “See you later!”

It doesn’t take long before you and Snow White are walking in the woods close to the city. You love spending time in the woods with her. You love just sitting in silence and letting your senses become even more refined. Sure, you have super hearing, but she teaches you how to focus even on the simpler things. Leaves in the wind, steps in the woods, birds chirping. There’s no other place you feel as in peace as in the woods with Snow.

“So? How are the woods today?” She asks, hand on your shoulder.

“Was there ever a time where there wasn’t anyone in the woods doing weird stuff?” You ask, making Snow laugh loudly next to you.

“Not in Storybrooke.” Snow agrees with a smile and points a direction for you both to walk.

“How do you want to do this?” You ask, putting your bow into position and closing one eye, looking around.

“Like we shall do everything.” You look at her and she winks at you. “Together.”

You miss the shot. You try again. Your arrow breaks. You try again. You lose your temper. You try yet again.

Day after day. Week after week. Month after month.

‘Together’ is the word to live by.

“Mom, can you help me take control of the panic attacks?” It’s late at night when you ask her that. Regina is happy that you’re asking for her help, and you two sneak into her office while Emma and Henry watch Space Paranoids.

“Remember,” She holds you, before she starts. “These are nightmares I’m putting in your mind. None of them are real. You’re safe and sound at home with us. Say the word and I’ll stop.”

“Ok.”

“But sweetheart, you’ve got to fight it. With all the strength and courage I know you have. Concentrate and fight it.” Regina says, and you nod, closing your eyes.

Your mind is filled with visions. Terrible ones, by the way. You see people dying, by shot guns and swords. It’s a war inside your mind. You know it’s not real, but the feeling is the same. You try to run but your legs feel wobbly and weak, and you fall on your knees. There’s a pool of blood under you and when you look to the side you see Henry with glassy eyes, completely lifeless.

“NOOOO!” Your heart starts beating into your ribcage, as you shake before reaching for him. “Please, please don’t be dead.”

“Concentrate. Focus.”

“HE IS DEAD! IT’S MY FAULT!” You yell, with tears wetting your face.

“It’s not your fault.” Regina says in your ear. “Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe.”

“HENRY! PLEASE COME BACK!”

“What’s going on?” You hear his voice. Regina has already stopped filling your mind with visions, but still you see his glassy eyes staring at you. “Hey, open your eyes. I’m here.”

You see him. But your body is still reacting harshly to the vision. You cry and shake. You’ve failed, but you’re not the one to back down.

Day after day. Week after week. Month after month.

You’ll overcome your fears.

“Hey honey!” Emma wakes you up, with an excited greeting, and you roll to the side not opening your eyes just yet. “I could really use your help with something.”

“What is it?” You mumble, still too sleepy to talk.

“We’ve gotta help Ella. And I thought we could have some mother-daughter bonding time.”

“You’re my mother. Isn’t that enough of a bond?” You ask, as a joke, and you get a chuckle in response.

“Come on. It would be much faster if you could fly around and find her for me. Otherwise I would have to use magic to find a shoe and then more magic to track her, and then-”

“Oh my God, ok. I’ll help.” You get up and get ready in seconds. “I know you just want my help because I’m faster than the Flash.”

“Faster than a flash, honey.” Emma corrects you. “Let’s go!”

So you find Ella, just before her evil stepmother shoots her, and you stand tall in front of her because you’re indestructible, and your mom uses magic to contain her evil stepmother, and it’s just another day in Storybrooke. You know, for a really small town, there’s always something going on in here.

“Saving the town with my kid.” Emma throws her arms around your shoulders with a smile. “What mother could ask for more?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I think being saved probably doesn’t sound so bad.” You complain, getting a tight squeeze from her.

“Sitting around waiting to be saved, with no idea whether someone’s actually going to come for you-” She sighs, loudly. “Trust me, I know doing all the saving all the time sounds exhausting. But waiting around is-is as bad as it can get, honey.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Day after day. Week after week. Month after month.

Heroism comes first.

“Are you ready?” Snow asks and you agree excitedly. Bow and arrow ready to shoot. You look at her getting in position. “Together.”

You nod, and you two aim at the same spot. Both of the arrows travel together and land side by side in the middle of the target. You smile, excited. “I feel like the Green Arrow!”

“Who’s that?” Snow asks and you look at her furrowing your brows.

“I-I don’t know.” You think and think about how that name just easily left your mouth. Huh. Weird.

Days. Weeks. Months.

“Here comes the town’ superhero!” Emma says when you walk in the kitchen.

“Here is the town’ savior!” You answer with a smile.

“I could use your help out there today, kid!” She widens her smile.

“Doesn’t this town have enough heroes?” You sit next to her, and she kisses the crown of your head, before placing a plate of hot waffles in front of you.

“But only one is super.” She winks, making you giggle in excitement. You’re convinced right away.

Days. Weeks. Months.

“Focus. Concentrate.” Regina says, close to your ear. And you breathe deep trying to do so.

“It's kind of hard when you're talking in my ear.”

“And when the wind blows, or it's raining, or someone's shooting arrows at you. Yes, concentration's hard. That's the point.” She bumps her shoulder on yours. “Sweetheart, you told me you needed help.”

“And I do.”

“Then let me help.” She runs her fingers through your hair slowly. “The world will always throw disappointments, sorrows and pain on our backs. It’s our job to learn how to handle them. I worked very hard for my first reaction to be as Regina and not as the Evil Queen.”

“I know, mom. You said that a million times.” Your answer makes Regina lose her cool a little. And you smile, apologetic. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I asked for help. I need to know how to handle the pain. Please, I’m ready to go on.”

“Close your eyes.” She asks again and you comply. “Are you ready?” You shake your head in agreement.

You see images. Like a lucid dream in your mind. Regina is using magic to alter what you see. And you see destruction, death everywhere. You see Snow’s head detached from her body, Emma bleeding with a sword on her heart, the only thing left from Charming is his hand, still clinging to his sword.

You should be ready by now. In fact, you should be used to it somehow. It’s not the first time you and Regina do this kind of exercise. But it doesn’t matter how many times you see your family bleeding out, totally lifeless in front of you, every single time, without fail, makes your heart beat faster, your lungs stop working, you shake, you start crying and hyperventilating, ready to destroy everything.

“Focus! No fire from the eyes.” You hear Regina’s voice and you come back to yourself a little bit, just to hold back your first reaction. It’s always the eyes.

“But mom is dead.” You cry out, clenching your fist.

“Concentrate. You can do it.”

You can do it.

You kneel before Snow’s head. Breath in while counting to 3. Hold your breath for 3 seconds. Breath out in the same amount of time. You know this isn’t real. Snow is home, and safe. You’re not in the enchanted forest. Nothing here is real.

You unclench your fist. Steadying your breath. You fight the images. Snow’s head goes back to her body. Charming’s hand disappears. Emma opens her eyes.

“You can do it.” You hear again. And you feel the thump in your heart settling back in your ribcage. Beating normal again. Soon enough the entire thing vanishes in front of your eyes. You open your eyes again. Your hands are still shaking a little, but you’re home with your mom, and you’re safe. She smiles fondly at you. “See? I knew you could do it.”

“I did it. I stopped my panic attack.” You say with excitement planted on your face and she hugs you tightly. It doesn’t matter how many months it took you to do so, you still did it.

“How about we celebrate? Guess who lifted the town’s protection spell this morning?”

“Wait, really?” Your eyes widen in excitement.

“Yes! You know what that means?” Regina asks, and you can barely contain yourself, jumping up and down.

“Pizza from the neighborhood city!” You squeak. “Can I go get it? Please mom, let me go get it!”

“Here.” Regina gives you the money. “Bring enough for your grandparents. And Belle. Maybe Hook too. Just anyone who happens to be at Granny’s.”

“So basically the entire city?”

“Basically.” She smiles and you’re almost out the door, when you look back at her and add.

“Did I have any plans for when we could leave town?” You think and think, but nothing comes to mind. “It’s weird, I swear I feel like I’m forgetting something important.”

“Maybe to give mom a kiss?” Regina asks and you smile. Rushing to her and hugging her, before kissing her forehead.

“Yeah, it was probably just a kiss.” You chuckle.

Days. Weeks. Months.

#supergirl #kara danvers #supercorp #supercorpfamily #lena luthor #supercorp daughter #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp fanfic #lena x reader #ouat fanfiction #ouat #snow white #emma swan #regina mills #swanqueen

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spine-buster · 4 years ago

Text

Patience is a Virtue ft. Matthew Tkachuk | 𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑒

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

Word Count: 14,637

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

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

* * * * *

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

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

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

That was how she liked it.

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

She wore pants.

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

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

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

“Chop it all off.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Effie nodded firmly. “Ready.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

“225 Mercer Street, Unit 13.”

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

Matthew was officially confused. “The Starbucks complex?”

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

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

***

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

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

Matthew walked in.

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

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

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

Effie nodded her head.

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

Effie looked scared for a moment. “Tip?”

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

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

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

***

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

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

“The Ottawa Senators,” he replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need you to take me home.”

“Effie—” he reached out to touch her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then it finally hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Effie…” he said uneasily.

“There were seven.”

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

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

***

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

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

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

“For who?”

“Effie Schaffer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because you’re her friend.”

“Yes.”

“Because you care about her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Can I come in?” he asked.

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

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

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

“So you know it’s a thing now.”

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

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

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

“I should be the one apologizing—”

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

“How do you know?” Matthew asked.

“Because you’re a nice person.”

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

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

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

Matthew smiled too.

***

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

“Less,” Annica giggled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Effie’s moving out?!”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK.

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

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

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

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

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

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

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

She went in for a hug.

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

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

“Whiskey.”

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

“Pretty much,” Matthew giggled out.

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

“Do you want to try some?”

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

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

“A virgin drink?”

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Uh…it’s called grinding.”

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

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

Fuck.

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

“Let me go for y—”

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Um, water please.”

“You driving tonight, darling?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t drink.”

“Wanna start?”

“No,” she said firmly.

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

Effie furrowed her brows. “Like what?”

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

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

“Who the fuck are you?”

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

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

“Fuck off.”

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

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

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

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

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

“Are you sure, Matthew?”

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

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

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

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

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

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

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

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

“Never, Effie. Never.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

FOLLOW REQUEST: effieschaffer7

You have accepted effieschaffer7’s friend request.

Effie?????

Hi Matthew

U made an insta?

Is it okay if I follow you? Annica helped me

Yes of course it’s okay if u follow me

I am going to post my baking I think

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

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

I’m gonna make sure Levi drives us home then

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it good?”

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

***

“Piiiiiiivvvooottttt!!!!!”

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

“Piiiiiiiiivvv—”

“Monahan!”

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

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

“Am not!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He furrowed his brows slightly. “Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry,” he apologized quickly.

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

“Hmm?”

“Do you like me?” she asked.

“Of course I like you, Effie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

Matthew nodded his head. “Would you?”

Effie nodded her head.

***

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

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

“Hmm?” he looked down.

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

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

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

“Matthew?” she looked up at him.

“Hmm?” he was already looking down.

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

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

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

He knew what was coming.

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

***

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

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

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

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

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

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

It was always initiated by her.

***

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

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

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

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

“I figured as much.”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

***

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Sit,” Mark said sternly.

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

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

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

“Effie.”

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

“Please don’t tell me—”

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

“You can’t fault me for thinking it.”

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

“And then?”

Matthew grumbled. “And then I moved.”

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

***

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

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

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

She punched him. Hard.

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

“M—M—Matthew,” she stuttered out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

“Matthew?” he heard a soft voice.

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

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

“Effie, I told you it was alri—”

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

“Effie—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know I can,” she nodded her head.

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

Effie nodded her head.

***

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

313 notes · View notes

mandowh0re · 4 years ago

Text

The One Where Everybody Finds Out

Summary: The team finds out about you and Loki.

A/N: So I literally took the entire episode of The One Where Everybody Finds Out from Friends and rewrote it for the Avengers. This may have been done before with either Loki or another character, and I've definitely seen it done with other Friends episodes. This is super long because I literally used every line of dialogue in every scene (except for Ross attempting to win the apartment) and then added or changed them enough to fit the characters. Some of this may be OOC but it was the best I could do with the situation they're all in. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Implied smut

Word Count: 6274

Tony as Ross, Natasha as Rachel and Phoebe, Wanda as Rachel and Phoebe, Peter as Phoebe, Loki as Chandler, reader as Monica, and Thor as Joey.

Happy Reading!

“Oh, hey you guys, look! They’re installing the new training grounds outside!”

There’s collective sounds of acknowledgement from the team as they all get up from their spots, walking over to where Wanda stood in front of the floor to ceiling windows. You can feel Loki standing a bit too close to your back, but luckily everyone is too distracted to notice.

“I’d say from the looks of it, Tony went all out.” Natasha states, looking at all the new fancy equipment that was being unloaded and installed.

“Ironically, it was actually Steve who went all out. I just paid for it.”

“Awh, I’ll miss sweating my tits off in that tiny gym.” Natasha says. You snicker.

“That’s repulsive.” Loki rolls his eyes and returns to his place on the couch.

Tony glares at Nat, “Hey, it’s not my fault that the AC is always broken.”

“Aren’t you a mechanic?” Bucky asks.

“Not an HVAC mechanic. There’s a big difference, tough guy.”

“I am excited for this new space! I will be able to call upon the lightning in training!” Thor booms.

“Yes, and kill everyone on the field.” Loki replies nonchalantly, never looking up from his book.

Thor rolls his eyes and everyone returns to their former spots. You sit back in your spot next to Loki, sitting criss cross on the couch and discreetly touching your knee to high thigh.

It’s the small touches you sneak when you think nobody is looking, that make your heart skip just a beat faster.

***

“Oh my gods, I love this setup! It's got something for everyone!” Tony is absolutely giddy with excitement, walking around the newly installed equipment that had been set up outside, “Isn’t it perfect? I never realized how little we were working with before!”

“Well that is because we really only ever trained by fighting hand to hand.” Natasha replies, inspecting part of the obstacle course.

Tony nods, putting his hands in his pockets. He watches as Peter easily climbs a wall that’s part of the course Nat is looking at.

“It’s amazing!” Wanda chirps, “Steve really outdid himself this time.”

“Speaking of Steve, he was supposed to meet us out here like ten minutes ago. I’m gonna go find him.” Tony says, pulling his phone out to try and get a hold of his boyfriend.

As the billionaire disappears into the compound, Nat walks up to Wanda.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t wait to sweat my tits off out here.” She says, the comment matching the one she made a few days ago.

Wanda lets out a quiet cackle, watching as Nat walks towards some machinery across the yard that caught her eye.

Wanda walks towards the teenager and looks around, excited to have so much more to practice and train her magic with. While Loki was more than glad to train with her using his own magic, she always had to hold back with almost everyone else.

She watches as Peter jumps and climbs his way through the course, looking like he’s having the time of his life, when she sees a separate movement out of the corner of her eye. She looks up to see you and Loki standing in a window, facing each other and talking.

“Oh look! There’s Y/N and Loki. Hey!” She waves up at them, but they don’t see her.

Peter’s attention is now caught and he stops in his tracks, looking up at the same window.

“Hey!” Peter calls, waving his own hands.

Suddenly, you and Loki are stripping each other of clothes, and Peter makes a squaking sound, covering his eyes.

“Ah! Oh!” Wanda shouts, her eyes blowing wide as she sees the events unfold. She uses her magic to pull Peter back to her so she can shield his innocent eyes, “Ahh!”

“What?” Nat asks, jogging back up to the pair.

Wanda points to the window that harbored the offending scene, with the hand that isn’t currently shielding Peter’s eyes.

“Y/N and Loki! Y/N and Loki!”

Nat looks up to see what the other two are flipping out about, only to see Loki shove you up against the window, completely bare.

“Oh my god!” Nat’s voice goes up an octave.

“Oh!”

“Oh my god!”

“Y/N and Loki!” Wanda screams.

“Oh my god!”

“My eyes! My eyes!” Peter screams. Wanda turns them both away from the building.

“Peter! Wanda!” Nat steps in front of them, hands out to try and calm them.

“Oh!” Wanda yells again, screwing here eyes shut.

“Okay! It’s okay! It’s okay!” Nat tries to placate them.

Peter removes Wanda’s hand from his face, “No! They’re doing it!” He yells, turning to point at you and Loki before Nat quickly grabs his arm and turns him back to her.

“I know! I know! I know!”

“You know?” Peter yells back.

“You know?” Wanda echoes him.

“Yes! I know, and Thor knows, but Tony doesn’t know so you have to stop screaming!”

Out of nowhere, Tony walks up to the small group, “Hey, what’s going on?”

The three of them scream in surprise, Peter throwing his hands in the air and jumping, screaming the loudest.

“Hi! Hi!”

Concern etches itself on Tony’s face, “What? What?” He steps towards his kid, arms reaching out and eyes scanning for any injuries.

“Hi! Nothing!” Peter yells, jumping around Tony to make him look away from the compound. He really didn’t need to see his daughter being fucked against a window by the one person on the team he trusts least, “Oh, gods, we’re just so excited about all the new equipment!” Peter claps his hands.

Tony smiles, now realizing it’s all just Peter having a hyperactive episode, “Yeah, actually it looks really good-” He says as he turns back to look at everything, but is cut off when Wanda yells and copies Peter’s movements to pull Tony’s gaze back away from the building.

“It looks amazing!” She screams, clapping and jumping up and down next to Peter.

Nat steps around Tony too so he doesn’t have a reason to turn back around.

“Get in here! Come on!” Peter yells, motioning for his father figure to join their happy dance.

Tony smiles before letting out a happy squeal and jumping into the little group dance, all of them jumping and screaming, aside from Natasha who was smirking and biting her lip to keep from laughing.

***

“You mean whenever Y/N and Loki were like, you know, doing laundry. Or going grocery shopping, or- Oh!” Wanda gasps, “All that time Y/N spent on the phone with Margo back in her hometown?”

They sit on Wanda’s bed, coffee in hand. Peter was leaned against her headboard playing Among Us on his phone, sound blocking headphones in. He was traumatized from what he saw earlier in the day, and he didn’t feel like seeing or talking to anyone, so the girls let him hang with them while they gossiped.

Nat nods, “Uh huh. Doing it, doing it, phone doing it.”

Wanda gasps again, “Oh, I can’t believe it! I mean I think it’s great!” There’s a pause, “For him. She might be able to do better.”

There’s a knock at the door before it opens slightly to reveal Thor. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms.

“Hello, what are you all up to?”

“Thor! Come here!” Nat says, jumping up and pulling him into the room, closing the door behind him.

Thor moves to sit on the desk chair, which looks like a doll chair compared to him, “What?”

“Wanda and Peter just found out about Loki and Y/N.”

Thor’s brows furrow and his eyes get wide, “You mean how they’re friends and nothing more?” His eyes narrow at the ex-assassin.

Nat rolls her eyes, “No, no Thor. They know. We were outside checking out the new training grounds and we saw them doing it through the window. Actually we saw them doing it up against the window.”

Wanda joins in, “Okay, so now they know you know,” She points to Thor, “And they don’t know that Nat knows?”

The god looks like he’s thinking hard for a moment before he speaks, “... Yes. But, you know what? It doesn’t matter who knows what. Now, enough of us know, that we could just tell them we know!” He says excitedly, “Then all the lying and secrets will finally be over!”

Nat nods, and Wanda gets a smirk on her face.

“Or, we could not tell them we know, and have a little fun of our own!” The witch giggles.

“Wait, well what do you mean?” Nat asks, turning back to face Wanda.

“Well every time that they say they’re like, doing laundry, we’ll just give them a bunch of laundry to do!”

Nat’s mouth forms an ‘O’ in understanding, “Ohh,” She claps silently, “I would enjoy that.”

Thor looks horrified, “Oh no no no. No wait wait. You know what would be even more fun? Telling them.”

Nat looks at him, but she’s already hyped up, “Nah, I wanna do Wanda’s thing.”

“I can’t take anymore-”

“Oh you don’t have to do anything. Just don’t tell them that we know!” Wanda snaps.

“No! I can’t take any more secrets!” Thor whines, running a hand down his face, “I’ve got your secrets, I’ve got their secrets, I’ve got secrets of my own, you know.”

“You don’t have any secrets.” Nat narrows her eyes.

“Oh yeah? You don’t know about Squish, my stuffed octopus.” Thor throes back before his eyes go wide.

It’s silent between all of them for a few seconds before Wanda clears her throat, “So, um,” She veers the conversation back to the situation at hand, turning back to Nat, “How are we gonna mess with them?”

Thor groans and leans back in the chair.

“Well, you could use your position, you know, as the best friend. And then I would use, you know, the strongest tool at my disposal. My sexuality.”

There’s another knock at the door.

“Come in!” Wanda calls.

The door opens to reveal Loki. Peter blushes furiously when he looks up to see the other god, and looks back to down, gluing his eyes on his phone.

“Hello, children.”

Everyone in the room replies with hellos.

“Y/N cannot find her journal. Have any of you heathens seen it?”

There’s a string of denials, nobody having seen the black leather journal you tend to carry around.

Nat turns to Wanda and winks, noticing Peter is now looking at her, and stands up to head towards Loki.

“Uh, hello?” Loki says, watching Nat approach him.

“Hey,” She says, finally stepping in front of him, “Oh wow, that jacket looks great on you.”

Loki quirks a brow and glances down at his clothing, then back to Nat, “Um, thanks?”

“Yeah, the material looks so soft,” She says as she strokes his arm, “Oh hello muscles,” She purrs, squeezing his bicep, “Have you been working out?”

Loki looks incredibly puzzled, “Yes, but need I remind you I am also a god.”

Suddenly Nat is giggling. Since when-

“Are you ill?”

She finishes giggling and looks in his eyes, “Well, if you really want to know,” She looks down at her hands, “Um- Oh I can’t tell you this.”

Loki shifts his weight onto the other foot, glancing at the other three behind her, then focusing back on her.

“While I do not enjoy discussing emotions, I can tolerate you more than most humans. If you would like to discuss something on your mind, I would not object.”

“Well actually, you’re the one person I can’t tell this to, and the one person I want to the most.”

“What the Norns is going on?” He asks, growing increasingly disturbed by this interaction.

“I think it’s just, you know, that I haven’t been with someone in so long and, you know how sometimes you’re looking for something and you just don’t even see that it’s right there in front of you dressed in a black suit…”

Loki glances down at himself again and his brows fly up for a split second as he looks back up to Nat.

“Oh no, have I said too much?” She coos, placing a hand on her chest, “Well, it’s just something to think about. I know I will.” She giggles again and walks over to where she set her mug down, bending at the waist and making an ‘oop’ sound, picking it up and then walks out of the room and past Loki, shooting him a wink.

Loki raises a brow at Thor, who has his face in his hands. Wanda is biting her lip to stop from bursting into a fit of laughter, and Peter’s cheeks are dusted pink with his eyes wide in shock.

***

“You are so cute. How did you get to be so cute?” You ask, looking down at Loki. He’s sprawled on his bed with his arm around you, tracing his fingers along your spine.

“I am not cute. I am a god. Handsome or pretty will do.”

You giggle in response, “Okay now you’re even cuter.” You tease, leaning down to kiss him.

“You know, that seems to be a popular opinion today, I must say.”

“What?”

“Well, the weirdest thing happened earlier today. I think… I believe Natasha was coming onto me.”

You chuckle, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m telling you, I think Natasha thinks I’m alluring.”

You look up at the wall and quirk a brow, then look back at him, “It’s not possible.”

“Ow?” Loki says, lifting his hands in a motion akin to ‘what the hel’.

You chuckle, “I’m sorry, it’s just… I mean Nat just thinks of you in a charming, sexless kind of way.”

“Oh well you know I… I can’t hear that enough.”

“I’m sorry, I just think you misunderstood her.”

Loki sits up, “No, I did not misunderstand. Humans are simple creatures-”

You narrow your eyes.

“Except for you, my darling,” He tries to placate, “But she was all over me. She touched my bicep for crying out loud.”

You grab his arm, and smirk, “This bicep?”

“Well it’s not flexed right now.”

You snort and fall back onto the bed in a fit of giggles.

***

You walk out of the elevator into the common room, headed to the kitchenette for some water.

“Hey, Y/N. What are you doing right now? You wanna come see a movie with us?” Nat asks, flipping through her magazine.

You stutter in your movements, hoping nobody noticed, and continue getting your water, “Uh, you know what, I was actually gonna do some laundry.”

You were out on a jog when Loki had texted you a long paragraph about what he wanted to do to you when you got back. Needless to say, you cut your jog short, turned around, and came straight back. When you turned back around to face your friends, you glanced at Loki, who was sitting on the loveseat with a book in hand. The fucker had the audacity to smirk.

Nat and Wanda look at each other, sharing a knowing look.

“Loki, you wanna do it with me?”

He closes his book and sets it down next to him, standing off of the couch, “Sure, I’ll do it with you.”

Nat smirks and stands, “Okay great! Hold on a sec.” She says before running out of the room. She returns a few minutes later with a large hamper full of laundry, “Ugh, here you go,” She sets it down behind the couch, “You don’t mind do you? That would really help me out a lot. Thanks!”

“Uh…” You look at her, not really sure how to respond.

“Oh! I have some too!” Wanda says.

You finally come out of your stupor, “Wait! Why am I doing everyone’s laundry? Do your own!”

Wanda makes a pouty face, “Because you love us and we asked nicely?”

You look at her incredulously before rolling your eyes, “Fine.”

Nat looks at her watch, “Oh! Alright, honey, we’d better go if we wanna catch that movie.”

They grab their jackets and bags, saying goodbye as they leave.

“Bye, Loki! I miss you already.” Nat says as she passes him, pinching his butt before entering the elevator with Wanda.

Once the doors slide shut, Loki looks at you, “Okay, did you see that?” He says hysterically, “With the inappropriate and the pinching?”

You nod, “Actually I did.”

“Okay so now do you believe that she’s attracted to me?”

You blink a few times, pieces of the situation coming together. Suddenly, your heart drops to your stomach.

“Oh my gods!” You look at the elevator and step around the counter towards the common room where Loki stood, “Oh my gods, she knows about us!”

“You are serious??”

“Natasha knows and she’s just trying to freak us out!” You throw your hands in the air, water bottle still clutched, “That’s the only explanation for it!”

Loki leans his head forward and raises his brows, “Okay but what about my pinchable butt and my bulging biceps?” He throws out an arm and runs his opposite hand over the lean limb before recognition settles over his face, “She knows!”

***

The door to Thor’s room flies open, startling the god, and both you and Loki enter.

“Thor.” Loki snaps, walking up to him, you hot on his tail. It looks like he had been in the middle of a nap.

“Yeah?” He says, throwing Squish behind a pillow.

You roll your eyes and Loki runs a hand down his face.

“Natasha knows about us.” Loki says, motioning between you and him.

Thor looks at you before furrowing his brows, “Well I didn’t tell them!”

“Them?” You hiss, “Who’s them?”

Thor looks guilty as he looks between the two of you, “Uhh, Natasha… And Thor.”

“Thor…” You warn.

“... And Wanda and Peter.”

You and Loki look at each other in annoyment.

Thor stands from his bed, “I would have told you, but they made me promise not to tell!”

“Odin’s beard!” Loki bites.

“I’m sorry!” Thor apologizes, and he does look sorry, “But hey! It’s over now, right? Cause you can tell them you know they know, and I can go back to knowing absolutely nothing!”

An idea pops into your mind, “Unless-”

“No, not ‘unless’! Look, this must end now!”

You ignore Thor’s small outburst, “Oh man, they think they are so slick messing with us! But see they don’t know that we know that they know. So…”

Thor looks confused as all hell by now, but realization dawns on Loki, “Ah, yes. The pranksters become the victims!”

Thor rolls his eyes, making an irritated noise, and flops back onto his bed.

***

Natasha, Wanda, and Peter are all hanging out in the common room playing Mario Kart when Natasha’s phone rings.

She pauses the game, putting the controller down and grabbing her phone, noticing the caller ID.

“It’s Loki!” She yelps, and suddenly she has both Peter’s and Wanda’s undivided attention.

They had filled Peter in on their plan, and he was more than happy to help prank you and Loki after what he had been inadvertently forced to see.

“Answer it!” Peter says, scooting closer.

“On speaker!” Wanda adds.

Natasha slides the green button and answers the call, putting it on speaker, “Hello, you.” She says in a sultry tone.

“Hello, Natasha. I have been thinking about you all day.” Loki’s voice fills the room.

Natasha almost chokes, and the other two snap their gaze to the phone, “Huh?”

“Well you know, that thing you said before. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.”

“Really?” She asks, completely caught off guard.

“Yes, listen, why don’t you come to my room tonight and I’ll let you feel my muscles. Or maybe more.”

Natasha’s mouth falls open, as do the others’, and she grasps for some sort of answer.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that. Okay bye.” She hits end and her hands fly to her hair.

“Oh my god!” Wanda squeaks.

“He wants you to go over and feel his muscles and more!” Peter adds.

“Are you kidding?” Natasha says, trying to wrap the situation around her head, “I cannot believe he would to that to-” She cuts off mid sentence as a thought forms in her head. She turns slowly to face Thor, who had been munching on a slice of pizza while watching the Mario Kart tournament, “Thor…” Natasha says, “Do they know that we know?”

He looks at her with a guilty expression, and it’s quiet for a second too long before he answers, “No…”

“Thor…” This time his name is spoken in a warning tone.

He nods slowly, “They know you know.”

Natasha makes a noise of frustration, “I knew it! Oh, I cannot believe those two!”

“They thought that they could mess with us? They’re trying to mess with us?” Wanda guffaws, “They don’t know that we know they know we know.”

Thor groans behind them.

“And Thor you can’t say anything!” Peter turns and tells him.

He throws his hands in the air, “Couldn’t if I wanted to!”

***

Wanda, Nat, and Peter had ended their video game and moved to the couch to talk amongst themselves. You and Loki are standing in the doorway.

“Look at them, they’re panicked!” You whisper.

“Oh, yes. They’re definitely going to crack.” Loki whispers back.

You nod, “Oh yeah.”

Nat turns to look over her shoulder at the two of you and then looks back at her partners in crime.

“Alright, alright, if he wants a date, he’s gonna get a date.” She says, tucking back a strand of hair, “Alright, I’m gonna go.” She adjusts her jacket.

“Good luck!” Peter whispers.

Wanda is giving a subtle thumbs up, “Be sexy.”

Nat rolls her eyes, “Please.” She stands and walks towards Loki with a sexy smirk, swaying her hips back and forth.

He sees her coming and he pushes you away, standing to his full height and pocketing his hands.

You and Nat exchange a fleeting look before her focus is back on Loki.

“So, Loki, I’d love to come by tonight.”

The god’s smug smirk falls for a moment, before he forces it back, “Really?”

“Oh absolutely, should we say around seven?”

Loki tilts his head up slightly, trying to keep his composure, “Yes.”

Nat nods, “Good. I’m really looking forward to you and me having sexual intercourse.” She winks and walks back to her spot on the couch.

Loki gives you a desperate look and you hold your hands up, trying to calm him down.

***

The three troublemakers plus Thor are in Nat’s room. She’s wearing a black, form fitting dress that reaches her mid thigh, with knee high leather boots. Her red hair is straightened and the top layer of her hair is pulled back into a braid in the back of her head. Her makeup is mostly natural, with a subtle green tint on her lids. A modest amount of glitter dusted her cheekbones.

Wanda claps several times, “Showtime!”

“Okay, Peter, pick out a perfume. Over on my dresser. And Thor, can you go grab me a bottle of wine and some glasses?”

Thor huffs but does as he’s asked, leaving the room to fetch the items.

Peter walks up to her with a small bottle filled with purple liquid, “I like this one!”

Nat smiles at him, “One of my favorites,” She stretches her arms out and closes her eyes, “Hit me.”

Peter sprays a cloud of the scent in front of her, and she spins through it.

Thor returns a few minutes later with a bottle of sweet red and two crystal glasses.

~Meanwhile~

You straighten out Loki’s collar and smooth out his jacket.

“Alright, you’ll be great. You just make her think that you want to have sex with her, it’ll totally freak her out.” You spray breath freshener into his mouth and he recoils, not expecting the intrusive taste.

“Okay listen, how far am I going to have to go with her?”

“Relax! She’s gonna give in way before you do!”

“How do you know??” He asks, and he briefly asks himself how he even got caught up in this mess.

“Because you’re on my team, and my team always wins.”

He scrunches his face at you, “At this?” He makes a general motion with his hands.

You roll your eyes, “Just go get some!” You grab his face and give him a quick kiss before smacking his butt, “Go!”

You run to his bathroom and hide inside, listening to the events in the room unfold.

Peter, Wanda, and Natasha are all outside of Loki’s room.

Wanda hands the wine and glasses to Natasha, “Okay, Nat. Now we’re gonna try to listen from right here. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Oh wait!” Wanda reaches out and unzips the zipper on Nat’s chest, letting her breasts spill out a little more.

“Oh, good idea!” Peter says.

“Oh, hang on,” Wanda goes to try and pull it down a little more but Nat steps back.

“Don’t give away the farm!”

Wanda’s hands snap back to herself, and her and Peter hide against the wall as Nat knocks on the door.

It immediately opens, and Loki is there waiting.

“Natasha.”

“Loki.”

“Come on in.” He purrs.

“I was going to.” Nat giggles, and slides past him through the door. He follows her in and closes the door behind him. As soon as it shuts, Wanda and Peter shuffle to the door and press their ears to it.

Nat holds up the bottle in her hand, “I brought some wine. Would you like some?”

“Of course.”

Silence settles over the two as Nat sets the items on Loki’s heavy wooden dresser.

“So, here we are,” She says, pouring a glass of wine, “Nervous?”

“Me? Never. You?”

Her answer is immediate, “No. I want this to happen.” She hands him a glass.

“So do I.” He takes it.

They clink glasses and both down the alcohol like it’s water and they’d been stranded without any for days.

When they finish, they set the glasses down and Loki takes a step back, “I’m going to put on some music.”

He cuts on a song that Nat doesn’t believe she’s heard before. It’s definitely a classical song.

“Maybe I’ll dance for you.” Nat licks her lips, and starts to sway and move her body. She hopes the alcohol kicks in soon.

Loki raises a brow as she gets closer to him. He swallows harshly when she bumps her hips against him.

“You look ravishing.” He chokes out.

“Thanks,” She’s still moving herself to the music, “You know, when you say things like that, it makes me want to rip that… Suit right off.”

“Well, why don’t we move this to the bed.”

“Really?” Nat stops her dancing, the statement coming out of left field.

“Oh! Do you not want to?” Loki asks.

“No, no. I just, you know, first I want to take off all of my clothes and have you rub lotion on me.”

Loki can feel his heart sinking because he can tell that the woman isn’t going down without a fight. And for once, he doesn’t want a fight.

“Well, that would be nice.” He says instead, “I’ll go get the lotion.” He makes a bee line for his bathroom.

He opens the door and slams it behind him.

“This is getting completely out of hand. Alright? She wants me to put lotion on her!” He hisses quietly.

“She’s bluffing!” You hiss back.

Loki throws his hands up, exasperated, “Look, she’s not backing down. She did this!” He copies the hip bump that Nat had done to him earlier.

“He is not backing down. He went to get lotion.” Nat says.

She had gone and opened the door to talk to Wanda and Peter when Loki disappeared into the bathroom.

Wanda and Peter look at each other and Wanda wrings her hands.

Thor walks down the hallway and sees them gathered at the door.

“Oh man, aren’t you guys finished yet?” He whines, crossing his arms.

Wanda rolls her eyes, “Thor, look, just look at it this way: The sooner Natasha breaks Loki, the sooner this is all over and out in the open.”

Thor’s eyes light up, “Oh, I like that,” He looks at Nat and an idea comes to him, “Oh! Show your breasts. He’s afraid of looking at anyone else’s but Y/N’s.” He reaches out and pulls on the zipper in a quick motion, causing Natasha’s boobs to nearly fall out of the dress.

The girls gasp and Peter covers his eyes.

“Wow, you didn’t break it.” Nat says, inspecting the zipper and adjusting her breasts.

“Not my first time.” Thor says, cheekily.

“You go back out there,” You say, grabbing a bottle of lotion off the shelf, “And you seduce her ‘til she cracks!”

“Okay, give me a moment.” He takes the bottle from you and looks around the small space, “Did you reorganize in here?”

You shrug and push him out of the bathroom.

He stumbles slightly from the force and sees Nat closing the bedroom door.

“Oh, you’re leaving?”

She turns and looks at him, pushing her chest out, “Uh, not without you, lover.” She walks towards him, making sure to show her chest off as she sways her body, “So… These are my boobs.”

Loki glances down at them before locking his eyes on Nat’s.

“They’re very nice.”

They look at each other, exchanging forced sexual glances.

“Well, come here.” He tells her, “I’m very happy we will be having sex.”

Natasha chuckles nervously, “You should be. I’m very bendy.” She steps closer, “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Not if I kiss you first.”

She takes a last step forward and grabs one of his hips. He touches one of hers, then switches hands to touch the other. His heart is beating in his throat.

Natasha reaches out and grabs his other hip, jerking him forward. He tries to place a hand on her breast but can’t make himself go through with it, so he settles for her shoulder, and Nat makes a choked sound.

“Well I suppose there’s nothing left for us to do but kiss.”

Nat nods, “Here it comes. Our first kiss.”

Loki quickly glances at the door that you’re hiding behind before looking back to Nat. They’re faces get closer and closer, both desperately hoping that the other will break before their lips connect.

But neither does.

It’s awkward and barely a kiss, but after about two seconds, Loki rips himself away and pushes Nat away from him.

“Alright alright alright. Okay, you win! You win!” He yells, hands up in surrender.

“Hah!”

“I cannot have sex with you.”

“And why not?” Nat pushes.

“Because I’m in love with Y/N.” He admits, running a hand through his hair.

Nat’s heart stops and she can barely string words together, “You’re- You’re what?”

The bathroom door opens and you step out, at the same time the bedroom door swings open to reveal Wanda, Peter, and Thor.

“I love her. That’s right! I love her. I love her!” He repeats himself, pointing to you.

You feel butterflies grow in your belly and warmth blooms in your chest. You don’t care that you just lost this little game. Loki just proclaimed his love for you to a whole group of people. That’s not something he likes; letting others know his feelings.

You walk over to him, sporting a smile so wide that your cheeks hurt. He takes a step towards you and places his hands on your waist, looking into your eyes.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You let out a wet chuckle, “I love you too, Loki.”

He dips down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, pulling your body flush to his.

“I just… I thought you guys were doing it. I didn’t know you were in love!” Nat exclaims.

You turn and smile at your friend, hugging your boyfriend close. Loki chuckles and hugs you back.

“Awh, guys.” Peter says, a large smile on his face as well.

Loki smiles at the boy then looks to Nat, “And hats off to Natasha. Quite the competitor.” He reaches a hand out and the two shake hands, “And may I say your breasts are still out.”

“God.” She mumbles and quickly zips the dress back up.

“All right!” Thor booms, his face filled with joy, “So that’s it! It’s over! Everybody knows!”

“Yeah, well actually, not everybody,” You reply, “And we’d appreciate it if nobody told dad.”

Thor’s face falls and Peter grabs his arm to try and placate him.

***

Tony is watching Peter mess around on the obstacle course.

Peter lands at the end with a backflip and turns to make sure Tony is watching.

The older man holds a thumbs up, “You’re doing great, buddy!”

Movement catches his eye and he looks up to the window of your room. It takes his brain one too many seconds to realize what he’s seeing because he doesn’t want to believe it.

“No… No!” He yells, standing and taking a few steps forward.

Peter turns to look at what Tony is flipping out over and his blood runs cold, “Shit.” He whispers.

“Get off of my daughter!” Tony screams before he takes off towards the entrance to the compound and Peter takes off after him.

Tony runs down the hallway screaming.

“Loki! Loki!” He reaches your room and tries to open it, but it’s locked. He bangs on it several times, “Loki! I saw what you were doing through the window! I saw what you were doing to my daughter, now get out here!”

You and Loki jump up and quickly fix yourselves.

“Well, listen, we had a good run. What was it? Four? Five months? I mean, that’s more than most humans have in a lifetime, so goodbye, take care, goodbye then.” Loki finishes his ramblings with a chaste kiss to your lips before walking to your balcony.

You quickly catch his wrist, “What are you doing?”

“Oh I’m going on the lam.”

You roll your eyes and pull him back towards you, “Come on, Loki, come on. I can handle my dad.”

You drag him with you and open the door to reveal Tony, who is as red as Thor’s cape.

“Hey dad, what’s up?”

He looks at you and then Loki, and storms into the room towards him.

Loki takes several steps back and you run to place yourself between them.

“Dad!” You place your hands on his chest.

“What the hell are you doing!” He yells.

Suddenly almost the entire team is running up to your bedroom door where Peter was already waiting.

“Hey, what’s-what’s going on?” Natasha interjects.

“Well I think… I think… Stark knows about Y/N and I.”

“Brother,” Thor makes a throat cut motion, “He is right there.”

Loki rolls his eyes.

“You are an semi-immortal god that wiped out half of Manhattan and causes trouble everywhere he goes, and this is my daughter. Loki and my daughter, I-I cannot believe this!”

“Look Stark, we are not just fooling around. I love her. Alright? I’m in love with her.”

Tony takes a few breaths and moves his gaze to you.

You step forward and grab his hand, “I’m sorry that you had to find out this way… I’m sorry but it’s true, I love him too.” You reach your other arm back to pull Loki into your side.

He looks at you with unsure eyes, then looks up at Loki and back to you. Then out of nowhere, his demeanor completely changes.

“Loki and my daughter! I cannot believe this!” He says with a more happy tone, bringing them both into a hug, surprise etching Loki’s face. He pulls away and looks at everyone in the doorway, “You guys probably wanna get some hugs in too, huh? Big news!” He says the last part with jazz hands.

Everyone on the team who wasn’t aware files in for hugs and congrats, but the other four stay in the doorway.

Peter smiles, “Awh, no we’re okay, we’ve actually known for a while.”

The smile on Tony’s face vanishes.

“What? What? You guys knew?” He stalks closer and Peter jumps behind Natasha, “You all knew and you didn’t tell me?” His voice became raised again.

“W-Well, Tony, we were worried about you, okay? We didn’t know how you were gonna react.” Wanda explains.

Tony looks between the four of them before the weary smile appears again.

“You were worried about me?” He chuckles, “You didn’t know how I was gonna react?” He pulls all of them into a tight hug.

When he lets them go Thor speaks up, “Okay. What do you say we all, uh, clear out of here and let these two lovebirds get back down to business.”

Tony’s smile vanishes yet again and he turns to glare at the god.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m just talking here. He is the one sleeping with your daughter.” He points to Loki.

Peter facepalms and Nat drags Thor away, Peter following suit. Peter collects Tony and nods to you and Loki. Everyone files back out of the room and the door closes once more.

After everyone left, there were a few seconds of silence before the two of you burst into hysterical fits of laughter.

***

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