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spine-buster · 3 years

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Patience is a Virtue ft. Matthew Tkachuk | 𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑒

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

Word Count: 14,637

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

* * * * *

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

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

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

That was how she liked it.

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

She wore pants.

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

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

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

“Chop it all off.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Effie nodded firmly. “Ready.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

“225 Mercer Street, Unit 13.”

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

Matthew was officially confused. “The Starbucks complex?”

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

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

***

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

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

Matthew walked in.

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

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

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

Effie nodded her head.

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

Effie looked scared for a moment. “Tip?”

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

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

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

***

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

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

“The Ottawa Senators,” he replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need you to take me home.”

“Effie—” he reached out to touch her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then it finally hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Effie…” he said uneasily.

“There were seven.”

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

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

***

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

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

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

“For who?”

“Effie Schaffer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because you’re her friend.”

“Yes.”

“Because you care about her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Can I come in?” he asked.

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

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

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

“So you know it’s a thing now.”

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

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

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

“I should be the one apologizing—”

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

“How do you know?” Matthew asked.

“Because you’re a nice person.”

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

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

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

Matthew smiled too.

***

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

“Less,” Annica giggled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Effie’s moving out?!”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK.

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

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

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

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

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

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

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

She went in for a hug.

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

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

“Whiskey.”

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

“Pretty much,” Matthew giggled out.

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

“Do you want to try some?”

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

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

“A virgin drink?”

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Uh…it’s called grinding.”

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

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

Fuck.

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

“Let me go for y—”

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Um, water please.”

“You driving tonight, darling?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t drink.”

“Wanna start?”

“No,” she said firmly.

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

Effie furrowed her brows. “Like what?”

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

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

“Who the fuck are you?”

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

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

“Fuck off.”

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

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

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

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

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

“Are you sure, Matthew?”

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

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

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

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

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

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

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

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

“Never, Effie. Never.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

FOLLOW REQUEST: effieschaffer7

You have accepted effieschaffer7’s friend request.

Effie?????

Hi Matthew

U made an insta?

Is it okay if I follow you? Annica helped me

Yes of course it’s okay if u follow me

I am going to post my baking I think

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

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

I’m gonna make sure Levi drives us home then

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it good?”

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

***

“Piiiiiiivvvooottttt!!!!!”

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

“Piiiiiiiiivvv—”

“Monahan!”

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

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

“Am not!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He furrowed his brows slightly. “Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry,” he apologized quickly.

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

“Hmm?”

“Do you like me?” she asked.

“Of course I like you, Effie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

Matthew nodded his head. “Would you?”

Effie nodded her head.

***

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

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

“Hmm?” he looked down.

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

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

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

“Matthew?” she looked up at him.

“Hmm?” he was already looking down.

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

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

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

He knew what was coming.

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

***

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

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

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

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

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

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

It was always initiated by her.

***

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

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

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

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

“I figured as much.”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

***

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Sit,” Mark said sternly.

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

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

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

“Effie.”

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

“Please don’t tell me—”

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

“You can’t fault me for thinking it.”

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

“And then?”

Matthew grumbled. “And then I moved.”

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

***

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

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

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

She punched him. Hard.

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

“M—M—Matthew,” she stuttered out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

“Matthew?” he heard a soft voice.

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

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

“Effie, I told you it was alri—”

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

“Effie—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know I can,” she nodded her head.

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

Effie nodded her head.

***

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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lin-nin · 4 years

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Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 5

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader

Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it?

Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer: Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

-- Chapter 5: Confrontation < | Previous Chapter Technoblade Focal Point The two of them had sat in the library for a while after that, talking about only a few topics in between long spaces of silence. Techno had used that time to observe the princess. He noted the way her hair fell, the nervous shifting of her weight in the chair. She even would chew her lip in thought. Whatever she was thinking about was horribly hard to discern, though it was easy enough to see she was worried. Not that she could be entirely blamed.

She had looked worried and stressed this entire time. From the moment he had walked into the throne room and made eye contact with her. She was intimidated. He imagined he wasn't exactly the norm to what she often saw here. Her kingdom was known for its softness. Its inclination to avoid conflict. It was a point of confusion for why he was being made to marry her. His father had said that there were powerful allies in peace just as there often was in war. It was true, yet it was boring, in a way.

He was pulled from his reverie as she stood, glancing to the window. "It's nearing dinner time," A wistful sigh escaped her after the statement, "Do you want to take your books up to your room first? You didn't touch them, I assume you'd want to read them eventually." She had turned back towards him, gesturing to the few books he had picked out. That was his initial plan, in truth. Yet she was sitting there with that worried look on her face. It would have seemed wrong to not at least speak to her.

Slowly, Techno rose to his feet as well, pausing to get his books. "Yeah, I'll bring them back come morning." He turned, waiting for her as she came to his side. Once she had, he started walking, occasionally glancing at her from his peripheral.

"Great! I mean, ah, obviously you can keep them longer if needed. I don't expect you to read them all tonight." She stammered over her words again, looking away. Techno laughed quietly in response. Seemed like the brief comfort didn't last. It was definitely amusing to watch, though. She had a habit of stumbling over her words.

"Depends how well I'm able to sleep. Either way I won't hold onto them for long." Reassuring her seemed to ease her some, her shoulders relaxing. She was certainly a character. She simply walked with him then, staring ahead of them. She stood and waited outside his room, letting him take the few moments he needed to set the books down. He set them down atop the trunk sitting at the foot of his bed, pausing for a few seconds. Hopefully their parents had worked out their problems. He warned his father long ahead of time that this arrangement wouldn’t be received well.

His fingers brushed the book and he sighed, head shaking. If they hadn’t, he just wouldn’t deal with it. It wasn’t worth it. He had little to gain from this. He had his doubts the marriage would be jeopardized under any circumstance. There would be too much worry about upsetting his kingdom. They also had the food that was desperately needed here. Even if they were unsettled about his presence as opposed to Wilbur’s, they would deal with it.

He blew out a small puff of air, leaving the room once more. He glanced at the princess again, and she offered up a smile. Did she know of the unrest among her parents? Perhaps she did, but she didn’t show it. That, or she didn’t know enough to give her reason to be afraid of him. Ignorance of some form, then. That or a good actress, but she didn’t exactly give off that vibe.

“You’ll have to forgive our dinner. As you know we’ve been rather tight of food lately. Of course, you’re helping with that and it means… a lot. To both me and my citizens, I imagine.” Moments like this, it shone that she was a princess raised with diplomacy and respect. When she had to be this way, she would be. Even though she seemed to be so bumbling and awkward outside of diplomacy.

“It was in our best interest. We aren’t exactly hurting for food ourselves,” He explained. They had quite a surplus, in truth. Their lands had been generous for a few years. It made sense to give extra to a neighboring kingdom. It wouldn’t do if someone took advantage of their weakened state for an invasion.

“All the same, you have our eternal thanks.” She smiled softly, wandering along towards the dining hall with him. The silence wasn’t entirely awkward like the past ones. This one was a touch more comfortable, even as they walked into the dining hall, which was filled with soft chatter. Almost immediately, he felt a gaze on him. His head turned, seeking out the holder.

At the same time he spotted the blonde-headed man, the girl beside him bounded forward with a shout of, “Dream!” She settled into the spot beside him, having left Techno as if he wasn’t there in the first place. Dream, as she had called him, offered her a smile. His green eye never left him, though. It bore into him almost resentfully. In a way, it was unnerving. In the same way it was familiar in a way he couldn’t name. His other eye was hidden beneath an eyepatch of gold fabric, the gold filigree lace covering some of the scar that tried to peak out from the bottom.

Other than that he was almost plain. His clothes were dark green and simple, fairly understated for someone sitting beside a princess. Techno pursed his lips, but moved into the seat across from his fiancee. She seemed fairly content with the set up, though the other did not.

“Right! Dream, this is Prince Technoblade. Techno, this is Dream. My best friend,” She introduced with a grin, reaching for a cup nearby to sip from. The two looked at each other for a long moment. Waiting for the other to say something first.

“Your reputation precedes you, Technoblade.” Dream spoke in a calculated tone, causing Techno to narrow his eyes. The princess nudged him, shooting him a look. Like she could tell he was not happy.

“I’m surprised you’ve heard of me. Everyone seems surprised by my arrival,” He mused. Prodding, almost. He could already tell Dream did not like him. He didn’t even care that much.

“We weren’t expecting you. I trust you’ll take care of her all the same.” An embarrassed expression crossed the princess’s face, nose scrunching a little. Like she looked dissatisfied with the implication she needed taking care of.

“I think I’m capable of taking care of her. I don’t let harm befall my family,” He fired back. A smug smirk curled his lips as Dream huffed. The girl across from him looked to the side with her own little huff, though they seemed to mean different things.

“I can take care of myself, thank you,” she grumbled, crossing her arms.

“You can’t even hold a sword.” Dream was quick to retort, causing an almost frustrated pout to cover her face.

“I can very well teach her, even if she doesn’t know. It’s good knowledge to have, regardless of status and who she’s with.” The look Dream sent Techno at this was dirty, clearly unhappy with the words. The princess, however, looked a little more interested. A light sparkled in her eyes, and Techno had a feeling she just hadn’t been allowed to learn. As expected from a soft kingdom like this.

Dinner proceeded a little more calmly, with the princess and Dream firing back and forth to each other multiple times. Techno only chimed in when he saw fit, otherwise resigning himself to his meal. As the meal closed, both he and Dream stood. He leveled Dream with a stare, resisting the urge to grab onto one of his swords.

“I’ll walk you to your room,” He finally broke the silence. Mainly just to irritate the man, and see the look on his face. She, however, smiled up at Techno, and gently patted Dream’s arm. This barely seemed to placate him as he huffed, turning to leave the dining hall.

“Thank you, Techno,” She hummed, waiting for him near the door. He nodded, walking with her outside of the hall. Habitually he put a hand on the pommel of one of his swords, well aware of the dangers that came with it being night. She led him towards the other side of the castle, seeming rather content with the silence for a few moments.

“Did you mean it?” She finally asked, looking up at him. He turned his head just slightly, looking at her curiously.

“Mean what?”

“That you’d teach me to hold a sword. Or fight with it,” She explained quietly, looking away. Like she was unsure about the whole idea.

“I’m willing to teach you to fight with something. It doesn’t make sense for you to not be able to defend yourself should you need to.” They rounded a corner, and she seemed extremely content with the answer.

“My parents wouldn’t teach me, and neither would Dream.” She hardly seemed happy at that, but the contentment she expressed at being able to learn at some point was rather nice. An eager student was a good one, truthfully.

“We’ll have to figure out what will fit you best when we get to my kingdom. Maybe after the wedding.” He tried to ignore how awkward it felt to say that, and she seemed equally flustered. She hesitated outside her door, as if contemplating if there were anything else she needed to say.

“That sounds good to me. Thank you, Techno. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.” She smiled up at him, and he nodded. Once she was safe inside her room, he turned to head towards his room. Silence fell around him, beyond the soft tapping of his boots. That, and a second, quieter pair trailing him. He wasn’t an idiot.

“You can quit trailing me and just talk to me,” He finally called out after a few seconds. He came to a stop in the hall, turning towards the sound. He didn’t technically need to look, either. He knew who it was. Dream slipped from the shadows, eye narrowed at him suspiciously. He eyes the hand Techno was resting on his pommel, almost warily. Like he would draw it at any second. Not that he planned to, unless provoked into doing such.

“Why get engaged to her?” He said bitterly, causing Techno to quirk his lips. Was that jealousy? Of course, he should have seen that coming. How cliche.

“What’s it matter to you? You clearly weren’t going to do it.” It was a cruel taunt, but deserved in a way. He wasn’t fond of Dream already, and he wasn’t sure if it was the possessiveness he expressed over his now fiancee.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Dream practically bristled defensively. He looked ready to attack, and in truth it was amusing.

“I have no reason to answer. Besides, you won’t even teach her to defend herself. You want her dependent on you, don’t you?” His head tilted, a grin on his face. It was too easy to read him from an outside view.

“No. She’s just clumsy. If you so much as hurt her, I swear I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Kill me. Good luck. I told you I wouldn’t harm her and I have no intention to. She is my fiancee, not yours, Dream. Let me worry about her.” He spun on his heel, the movement almost militaristic. He didn’t care to listen to Dream’s possessive and jealous ramblings. Whatever chances he had had at one point, he had very clearly lost somewhere before Techno came along. Next Chapter | >

#dream #dreamwastaken #dream team #dream smp #dream x reader #technoblade #technoblade x reader #kingdom au #reader insert #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois family #t&t

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ladyc0312 · 3 years

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A Jikook Guide to RunBTS: 112-121

Yes, I'm still doing these! It's just happening more slowly than I'd like because writing for work + writing fic + trying to go to bed before midnight + so much amazing content being released that clearly must be poured over and dissected = less time to make guides. For anyone still with me, he's the next section!

Ep 112 “Dalbang School Part 1” (Ep: 5 / KM: 4)

The ones with BTS in a classroom driving Teacher Jin insane

5:58 - JM declares that he and Taehyung will pair up (by being the first to hug each other in a game), but then when Hobi blows the whistle at 6:38, JK runs over to hug JM before Tae can get to him.

6:58 - Jin asks why JM said he wanted Tae and then hugged JK. JM explains that he didn't hug him, he just found himself in JK's hug as JK cackles in the background.

7:24 - When Jin blows his whistle at the class, JK and JM mirror each other in putting a finger in one of their ears.

7:35 - Teammates JK and JM are immediately on the same page about wanting their team name to be Kim Seokjin. When they have to change it, JM quickly picks up JK's suggestion that they call their team Bang Sihyuk. These don't sound like particularly unique moments, but when you watch it, it just really strikes you how in sync the two of them are in terms of physicality, ideas, and sense of humor.

9:52 - After Jin comments that he heard JM did very well in school, JK adds that JM was the top student. When someone else asks if JM was the best or second-best, JK forcefully reiterates that he was the best student.

12:45 - When they get a question right, JK and JM clasp hands and bump their shoulders together.

13:10 - JM and JK both goof around, speaking in satoori and challenging JHope to a fight of sorts.

13:27 - When Jin repeats that they got the question right, JK and JM do exactly the same as 12:45, but seated this time.

14:22, 14:36, 15:13 - In all three of these moments, JM nearly falls over laughing at something JK did that no one else found anywhere near as funny.

23:36 - When JK says he's good at this game, JM laughs and pokes JK in the chest with a marker.

BEHIND 2:30 - JM takes a selfie of him and JK with his personal phone while they're supposed to be paying attention to Jin.

6:35 - JK cheers on JM and calls him Jimin-ssi when JM announces he's doing well on this spot-the-difference round. When Jimin modifies the brag to say he only found four, JK says "that's still quite impressive."

Ep 113 “Dalbang School Part 2” (Ep: 5 / KM: 4)

4:50 - We all know how JK is when he gets into his "focus" zone, especially in a competitive environment. But here, when JM rather rudely interrupts JK's melodica practice, JK just starts playing around with him and giggles.

7:41 - As RM & JH take their turn, jikook are whispering to each other in the back row.

11:42 - After quickly agreeing on a lunch option, jikook do a high five / handshake thing and then JM says "we think alike" and "we get along pretty well." JK responds "that's exactly it" and the on-screen captions tells us they are a "good match."

22:20 - This is where JK and JM start switching back and forth carrying each other on their backs to get under a limbo stick.

They go again at 23:35, 26:11, and 28:13.

And again at 30:22 and 32:16 and 34:30 because, even though they lost, they want to try to do it again to show that they can as a "matter of pride."

25:00 - JK points something out to JM and then pats his butt.

33:33 - JM announces they lost, and then jikook do another handshake / high five thing.

34:33 - JM does an... interesting pose for the camera where he puts his hand on a bent-over JK's back and smirks.

34:56 - Yet another handshake and JM pats JK on the back when they finally pass the limbo challenge.

BEHIND 5:55 - While examining the limbo setup, JM comments that JK is good at this. JK comes over to give a demonstration and JM watches him be silly with it and says "he's a strange kid" fondly.

6:21 - Another jikook limbo attempt - this one was cut because they did it too easily.

Ep 114 “League of Number One Part 1” (Ep: 3 / KM: 1)

The ones where BTS play games with League of Legends world champions

3:55 - After Jimin protests that he shouldn't be out, JK tells his hyung to turn around and face the back.

14:40 - JK fake-boxes JM after losing the hammer game.

18:18 - JK mimics Jimin's BWL intro.

Ep 115 “League of Number One Part 2” (Ep: 2 / KM: .5)

BEHIND

7:05 - JK comes over to check on Jimin's phone to make sure he's actually visible in the selfie the teams take.

Ep 116 “Team-Building Special Part 1” (Ep: 4 / KM: 1)

The ones with random games in that rec room-looking place that are a lot more fun than they sound

22:14 - JM and JK play around with the jump rope during breaktime.

22:26 - JM and JK play around like they're boxing with each other.

BEHIND 5:15 - JK appears to take an interest in watching JM's... back as he moves around acting out potential poses.

Ep 117 “Team-Building Special Part 1” (Ep: 4 / KM: 2)

5:30 - Despite showing pretty much everyone else touching everyone else in the pose guessing game, we don't get a single shot here or in the behind of JK feeling up Jimin. The above photo proves that it happened, though, so definitely side-eyeing the editors, here.

BEHIND 5:35 - JK keeps throwing water bottles when they're supposed to be taking a group photo. Jimin pulls him back next to him and puts an arm around his neck. JK puts an arm around Jimin's shoulders in return.

7:51 - After it's explained that JK is staying late to watch Jin do his penalty, a packed-up Jimin comes over and stands next to JK, waiting until they're done to leave.

Ep 118 “Photo Story Part 1” (Ep: 3 / KM: 3)

The ones where BTS play a Samsung-sponsored game involving getting specific pictures while a spy tries to ruin the fun

4:22 - JM appears to direct JK to go punish Tae and pats JK's back when he starts to obey. Something happens that we don't see when the angle changes - next thing we see, JM seems to be pushing JK? JM then giggles at JK pretending to beat up Tae. (After this, JK spins around like a ballerina. Not jikook-related, just adorable.)

29:51 - JK calls Jimin twice without adding "hyung."

32:28 - JM pulls JK along by the wrist. Meanwhile, J-Hope once again mixes up their names.

32:44 - Though there is now a group walking slowly together and he doesn't need to pull him along anymore, Jimin takes JK's hand again.

37:02 - There are a bunch of seats open in the room, but Jimin walks over to sit right next to JK.

BEHIND 5:40 - When JM tries to steal a post-it from JK, JK scolds him in satoori banmal. JM calls him out for not calling him with hyung and JK quickly apologizes (in a way some k-army jikookers have said is like how a married person would respond to their nagging spouse!).

6:09 - JK and JM meet up and JK tells JM he's exhausted. There's a kind of weird moment that I fully admit I may be reading too much into where JK seems to be walking right towards JM, then abruptly stops and turns, looking at the camera, before walking with Jimin in a different direction than he had been heading. Then, JM says he thinks their matching shirts are hilarious and that it's funny they're wearing them for the show.

Ep 119 “Photo Story Part 2” (Ep: 4 / KM: 3)

8:21 - "You are me, I am you" moment: Jimin does a ballet spin the same way JK did in part one.

11:18 - JK is the only one to vote for JM to be able to keep a picture in other than Jin (who has nefarious reasons for doing so).

29:40 - JM goes over to help JK see how many of his photos the spy ruined and almost falls over laughing when it becomes clear it's nearly all of them.

34:21 - JM puts his hand on JK's shaking leg to help calm him (see above photo), but JK is so irritated that it doesn't work like it usually does. Poor bunny!

35:17 - JM pulls at JK's shirt and hand, then folds over his back while trying to get him to confess that he actually lost.

38:24 - JM has a comforting hand on JK's neck when he's acting upset about losing.

38:32 - When it seems like JK is struggling to come up with an ending statement, JM helps prompt him.

BEHIND

0:55 - JK talks about how amazing it is that Jimin found so many cards.

3:51 - When JK is playing with the sequin art on the front of his shirt, JM leans over and starts rubbing on them, too.

5:11 - Jimin tells JK that, if he wins, he's going to make the loser hike Mt. Achasan. JK asks why he's looking at him when he says that and they both laugh. Jimin pats JK's chest and they laugh even harder. Jin and Tae both have "omg, these two" looks on their faces.

Ep 120 “Reply BTS Village Part 1” (Ep: 3 / KM: 2)

The ones with a real-life Mafia game inexplicably set in a 1970s village. It's... fairly difficult to follow, but the guys are into it and the outfits are great!

24:40 - Jimin breaks character and laughs when asking JK if he's the culprit.

29:40 - Caption: "The air is undeniably tense between Gamer Jeon and Chief Park." Not explicitly jikook, I just find it funny that the writers seem to be playing with some real life relationships, making sope best friends and jikook have tension that leads to banter...

BEHIND

5:34 - When Jimin is playing with the yo-yo, JK expresses concern that he's going to hurt his fingers (caption: Kook is just worrying for his hyung). Then, JK asks poutily and in banmal if he can play with the yo-yo multiple times and Jimins says no. Like, JK straight-up gives his hyung a command ("let me try that") using informal speech and no one bats an eye!

5:58 - Jimin starts singing a song about an ants. JK watches him. JK initially says to Hobi "look, he's a fool/dummy!" (in banmal again), then starts singing along. He jokes that JM doesn't know all the lyrics and Jimin says back "quiet, you."

Ep 121 “Reply BTS Village Part 2” (Ep: 3 / KM: 2)

38:48 - After having asked for it a bunch in the Behind of the previous episode, JK now has Jimin's yoyo.

non-jikook note: At the end of this one, they "time travel" to solve a mystery in Joseon-era Korea and I can't express how badly I want to see that. Please come back to that, Run!

BEHIND 0:58 - Jimin and JK play around accusing each other with exaggerated accents and formality. Jimin comes up behind JK and reaches out to touch his shoulder, but stops when Tae joins them and accuses them of plotting together.

9:05 - When JK says everyone else is so good at acting, Jimin compliments him that he was very funny towards the end.

#jikook guide to run bts #jikook guide #jikook #kookmin

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hawksward · 3 years

Text

Find Me Where the Wisteria Blooms (Giyuu x Reader x Sabito)

Summary: You were only a child when the demons took everything from you. But in the years you were on the mountain you found friendship.

Only to have it all ripped away again.

Pairing: Sabito/Reader/Giyuu

Rating: PG-13 (specifically for violence)

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Violence, Character Death, Angst

A/N: Watch me rip out my own heart and stomp on it in 4000 words. Characters have been aged up from 13-15 at the time of final selection (because let's be real why was Urokodaki sending 13-year-olds in the first place.)

Thirteen

“Last again.” The boy with the peach-colored hair taunted, “Guess you don’t have what it takes.”

You would have thrown a rock at his head if you weren’t hunched over with your hands on your knees, struggling to catch your breath.

“Shut up, Sabito.” You heaved “You won’t sound so high and mighty when I’m a hashira.”

Three months had passed since your arrival on the mountain. The morning hikes up the mountain only to race back down again started off like torture considering your background. You had a normal childhood. One cut tragically short after your village was slaughtered by a demon. The screams were still audible every time you closed your eyes to sleep. The sound of the footsteps above the loose floorboard where you hid plagued your dreams.

The sun was high in the sky the next day when Urokodaki came to check for survivors. It was almost ironic to think that you went your whole life not knowing monsters were real, only to find there was a man training students to fight them on a nearby mountain. He pulled you out of the hole in the floor and carried you up the mountain. He let you stay with him weeks before you decided to start training.

You were already a couple of months behind the two boys your age who trained on the mountain. Giyuu and Sabito. Giyuu did everything he could to help you catch up with your swordsmanship. Sabito, however, just continued to tell you about how you weren’t man enough to become a demon slayer.

You never were quite sure if he meant your spirit or your lack of biological parts.

“Leave her alone” Giyuu protested “She was definitely faster that time.”

Were you actually? Who knows. If the mountain exercises were hard, the sword training was harder. Your new skills were nothing compared to either boy. Sabito had already grasped the first two forms of water breathing and Giyuu has mastered the first. Meanwhile, you were lucky to land a strike on either. You ended each day rubbing salve on new welts.

“You are getting better.” Giyuu joined you that evening while you sat outside, rubbing your tired muscles in preparation to do it all again tomorrow “Sabito just doesn’t know how to act around girls.”

“Whatever.” You frowned, “If he tells me I’m not man enough again, I’ll make sure he never will be either.”

A quick, hard sword swing between the legs would take care of that.

Giyuu laughed, “You would have gotten along really well with my sister. She didn’t let anyone walk all over her either.”

“What happened to her?” You asked, already prepared for the answer. No one came to train with Urokodaki because they had a happy home life.

“She sacrificed herself to save me.” He looked down at the ground “She was supposed to be married the next day.”

“Giyuu…” You paused before looking up at him, sliding your hand over his “I’m sure she’d be proud to see you now.”

He looked over at you, his eyes haunted. “I wish it were me instead.”

You pulled your hand away almost as quickly as you placed it there, turning your head to stare back at the night sky “Me too.”

Fourteen

A year passed since you first arrived on the mountain. Tasks that once seemed impossible, you could now do without a second thought. You were faster, stronger. But most importantly, you were a winner.

“Look who doesn’t have what it takes now.” You said, a smug grin plastered on your face. You sat casually on a nearby log when Sabito made it down the mountain. You barely managed to catch your breath as you only made it down a couple of minutes prior. He didn’t need to know that though.

“I bet you still can’t beat me in a fight.” He barely needed a moment to catch his breath while Giyuu appeared.

“Challenge accepted.” You rose from the log to meet him head-on. The fact that he and Giyuu were already so tall was unfair. “I’ll see you at sword training.”

It sounded more dramatic when you said it. After a lunch filled with an intense staring match and Giyuu trying to fill the awkward silence, you found yourself standing in the part of the mountain where you practiced sword drills. The wooden katana felt familiar in your hand. 200 sword swings before you were even able to start practice would do that.

You ignored the fatigue in your arms as you took your stance. Sabito took his position opposite you, Giyuu and Urokodaki standing a safe distance away to observe.

Urokodaki gave the signal to begin and Sabito rushed you immediately. You quick side-stepped to miss the first blow, blocking the second with your sword. It wasn’t a secret that he was physically stronger than you, but you had the advantage of speed now. In the months since your arrival on the mountain, your breathing techniques had improved tremendously. You had the stamina and speed advantage and could wait until he tired himself out. He knew he needed to end the fight quickly.

You backed away while he brought himself back into his stance, widening the gap between you. You rushed him to close the distance, lifting your sword over your head as if you would bring it down on him. Just before your katana would fall on his, you dropped into a slide. Your hands changed grip on the katana, angling it so it caught his ankles as your momentum kept you sliding.

The force of your entire body weight ripped him off his feet and onto his back. You quickly pushed yourself off the ground stood over him, your sword pressing lightly against his neck.

“I win. You have no head.” You suppressed the stupid grin that was threatening to cover your face. The look of shock in his eyes was rewarding enough.

“That trick was dirty.” He complained, staring up at you from the ground. “In a fair fight you would have lost.”

“Demons don’t fight fair.” You said, extending your hand out to him “Why should I?”

“She’s right. There is no such thing as a fair fight with a demon. You need to use every trick you have against them.” Urokodaki gave you a small nod before returning his attention to Sabito.

Sabito reluctantly grabbed your hand, using you as leverage to pull himself off the ground. It was clear that although he accepted your mentor’s judgment that you won the fight, he wasn’t happy about it. He looked down at you for a moment before quickly averting his gaze, his face flushed from what you assumed to be exertion.

“Fine. You won.” He grumbled “But you won’t be able to use the same trick twice. I want a rematch tomorrow.”

“You’re on.” You flashed a large smile, letting go of his hand. “I’m still going to win though.”

“Focus on the present.” Urokodaki scolded, nudging Giyuu to step into the circle “If you don’t keep your focus to the opponent in front of you, you’ll lose.”

“Right.” You nodded, turning to face Giyuu. You assumed your stance while he readied himself, the two of you waiting for the signal to begin.

“Sorry to interrupt your winning streak,” Giyuu said as you waited, “But I don’t intend to lose.”

Both of you leaped into action at the signal, rushing toward each other as your katanas met with a harsh clack.

You lost that fight, but in the end, it didn’t matter. You finally felt like their equal.

Fifteen

Spring came again to the mountain as the weeks counted down until final selection. You trained with Urokodaki for almost two years. You mastered water breathing. You could cut a boulder in half with a thin blade.

You weren’t the scared little girl under the floorboards anymore.

You sat in the forest, using one of the knives you found in the house to carve your initials into the tree. Along with Giyuu and Sabato’s. Something to commemorate your graduation into demon slayers. They had become your best friends. The thought of being apart after final selection was almost painful.

“Urokodaki is going to make you run laps around the mountain until next year if he finds out you’re using the kitchen knife for that.”

You looked up to see Sabito standing behind you, Giyuu laughing beside him.

“Well then don’t tell him” you grumbled, returning to your work “It's not like I can use my sword for this.”

The two boys watched you continue your work, laughing at your uneven lines as you tried to carve Urokodaki’s tengu mask. He gave the three of you hand-carved fox masks for the trial. Each one was designed differently based on personality. Your mask had the left eye covered by wisteria, your favorite flower. Something you were sure you only mentioned to the man once or twice.

By the time you finished, it was already time for dinner. In the last week prior to the trial, Urokodaki had given the three of you the week off from training as both a reward and for time to mentally prepare. Without a clear schedule, you could barely keep track of the time.

You hid the knife in your sleeve as you stood up, you would return it to the drawer when Urokodaki wasn’t paying attention. “When we all become hashira you both better promise to come visit my mansion.”

“There can’t be three water hashira.” Giyuu said, leading the group “Especially when there’s only nine of them in total.”

You stuck your tongue out at the back of his head, causing Sabito to laugh. Giyuu turned around, confused, to see both of you just smiling back.

“Says you. When we finish the trial they’ll be begging to have three water hashira.” You joked. You laughed the rest of the way home, but before you could enter the house you were pulled to the side, out of sight.

You looked up at Sabito, who still had his hand on your arm. “What are you doing?” You whispered harshly, not bothering to pull away.

“When Urokodaki goes to sleep, will you meet me out by the lake?” He asked, staring intensely into your eyes.

“Why, what are we doing?” You smiled, interested at the prospect of doing something Urokodaki wouldn’t approve of “I can pull Giyuu aside when he’s not paying attention…”

“No.” He interrupted, looking away for a brief moment before bringing his attention back to you “Just you. Please say you’ll come.”

You felt the heat rise to your face immediately. The three of you did everything together, not inviting Giyuu was unheard of. “Y-yeah. Of course, I’ll be there.”

————————

You left ample time in between when you heard Sabito leave and when you made your exit. You tiptoed into the night air as quietly as you could manage. The feeling of guilt squeezing your heart for a quick moment as you passed by Giyuu’s sleeping form.

The air was crisp, the sound of crickets chirping filling the air. You grabbed your sword from its spot near the door, you could never be too careful when out at night. The lake wasn’t a far walk from the house, a bit further up the mountain and through a thick of trees.

You found Sabito sitting on a downed tree, watching the moon reflect off the water. You took a seat next to him, watching the water as well. You weren’t sure if you should speak up. You weren’t really sure why he asked you out here without Giyuu either.

“I’m glad you came.” He said, still looking at the water.

“Are you going to tell me why you asked me out here and not Giyuu?” You looked up at him, waiting for him to respond. Or at least look at you.

“I’m sorry for how I treated you when you showed up to the mountain. It was just me and Giyuu for a while and I didn’t want it to change.” He continued to stare out, nervously shifting his weight beneath him. “I just needed to tell you before final selection. In case anything happens.”

“Nothings going to happen” You reassured him “We’re all going to make it off that mountain.”

He turned to face you this time, a serious expression on his face. “We don’t know what kind of demons will be there. I won’t let anything happen to you or Giyuu.”

You studied his face, confused as to where this was all coming from. It went without saying you would all look out for each other during the trial. You would make sure nothing happened to him and Giyuu as well. “We’re friends, Sabito. Giyuu and I are going to look out for you as well.”

“I don’t want to be your friend.” Your look of shock took him by surprise, causing him to rub his temples in frustration “That’s not what I mean.”

You waited as he collected his thoughts, still troubled by him not wanting to be your friend. You knew that your relationship started off rocky, but you thought you were close now.

“I think I love you.” He blurted out, forcing himself to get over the fear of your reaction “I can’t shake the feeling that I want to be around you all the time. Without Giyuu. I hate myself for thinking that your safety is more important than anyone else. You’re one of the strongest people I know...but...I understand if you think I’m not worthy of you.” His fingers went up to touch the scar that trailed from his mouth to his ear.

You grabbed his hand away from his scar, holding it in both of your own. “I would never think that.” Time seemed to stop as you stared into his eyes. Ever since your arrival, he had drawn your eye but considering your relationship you never thought about being anything more than just a friend. You cared for him with all of your heart. You would prioritize his safety over your own. Maybe that was love the whole time?

“In a couple years, when we’re older, I’m going to ask you to marry me. I hope you’ll have an answer by then.”

The heat immediately rushed back to your cheeks, your hand letting go of his to cover your mouth. You were positive that in your shock you looked like a gasping fish.

“When we become hashira.” You began, lowering your hand “I expect you to propose again. So I can say yes.”

The world disappeared when he leaned in and placed his lips softly against yours. The two of you were so absorbed in the moment that neither noticed a presence lurking behind a tree a few yards away. Giyuu heard you get up in the middle of the night only to find Sabito gone as well. Naturally, he grabbed his sword and followed your tracks to see what you were up to without him.

Giyuu left as you both pulled away, he’d heard the whole conversation and knew better than to interrupt now.

——————-

By the second day of final selection, the three of you must have cleared out nearly ⅔ of the demons on the mountain. Each of you equipped with a thin nichirin sword and a mask handcrafted by Urokodaki for protection. Almost all the participants chose to stay together and things were going well. Well enough that for a moment you thought you would all make it off the mountain.

The smell came first. Demons always had a rotting scent to them but this was extreme. Like you were choking on the air. You barely had a chance to react when a group of arms reached out of the darkness. You leaped out of the way, rolling to a stop. Looking up, you saw Sabito using water wheel to cut the limbs from where they grabbed the bodies of the other recruits.

“Giyuu!” You shouted, rushing over to where he was slumped against a tree. He lifted his head up to reveal blood rushing down his face from a head wound, his mask broken on the ground. His eyes were unfocused, but the damage didn’t look extreme. He most likely had a concussion.

“Go, run!” You looked over to see Sabito directing the others, keeping the arms at bay while the smell grew more pungent. “Take the wounded and get out.”

He disappeared into the darkness of the trees, along with the arms.

“You!” You grabbed one of the recruits “Take him with you, please.”

“No.” Giyuu grabbed your arm, bringing your attention to him “I can still fight.”

“You’re not fit to fight anything right now.” You untied the strings of your mask and removed it from your head, placing it into his hands “This will keep you safe. I’m going to expect it back when I find you.”

You gave him a smile while he tried to weakly fight his way out of the grip of the two recruits carrying him off. You turned around and rushed into the dark, trying to keep up concentration breathing despite the overpowering stench.

It didn’t take long to find the source. A horrible, deformed demon covered in arms. It noticed you immediately, keeping its eyes on you while still easily keeping Sabito busy with a flurry of attacks.

“What are you doing here?” Sabito shouted at you, deflecting another arm “Go find the others, I can handle this.”

“I won’t just leave you here.”

“Another meal I don’t have to hunt for, it’s my lucky day!” The demon spoke, hiding its mouth behind a number of hands “Is she one of Urokodakis as well? I don’t see a mask but I suppose if I’m going to eat you anyway it doesn’t matter.”

You drew your sword, slicing one of its hands from its wrist as it surged toward you. You sliced limb after limb as it regenerated, desperately trying to create an opening for Sabito to strike its neck.

“Third form: Flowing Dance!” You steadied your breathing and summoned a torrent of water from your sword, twisting and turning to slice all of the limbs in your path. The quick strikes created an opening for Sabito to leap up, drawing his sword and quickly using all his strength to slice the monster’s neck.

The sound of a loud snap filled the air.

You looked up to see Sabito’s sword snap in two, the monster's neck still intact.

Everything else happened so fast.

You stepped forward to rush the demon, your eyes closing momentarily to blink. Something warm sprayed your face, reminding you of summer rain. When you opened your eyes you saw the demon had regenerated an arm and grabbed Sabito by the head. His body dangling below it.

Unmoving.

Your knees gave out below you as the demon dropped his headless corpse to the ground. Your hand reached up to touch your face, pulling away with a smear of blood covering your palm. Your first thought was that this had to be a nightmare. That you were laying on your futon, sound asleep, restless from the stress of the impending trial.

You don’t know how long you stared. You should have run. If Sabito couldn’t beat it how could you hope to?

“Now that he’s dealt with, I think I’ll eat you first. You’ll taste even better covered in the blood of your friend.” the demon laughed, finally snapping you out of your stupor. You used your sword to push yourself off of your knees, using your sleeve to wipe some of the blood from your face. To wipe him off your face.

“I’m going to send you to hell.” You moved with speed you didn’t know you were capable of, deftly avoiding and deflecting the arms moving toward you. You were possessed by rage. You struggled to keep your breathing in check and you knew you were being reckless. But you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

You continued to cut through limbs as fast as they could regrow but eventually, your luck ran out. One of the demon’s arms erupted from the ground, sending you flying into the air only to have the wind knocked out of you when you reached the ground.

You lay splayed on the ground, trying to will your body to move as tears streamed down your face. Everything felt numb, your fingertips refusing to move as you tried with all your might to grab your sword. The demon grabbed your neck, lifting you off the ground until you were at eye level.

“You get to be number fourteen,” he said as he stared at you, his grip tightening around your throat “After that Ill eat your friend and will have digested fifteen of Urokodaki’s students.”

The voice sounded further and further away as your air source dwindled. You glanced over to Sabito’s body on the ground as black spots began to fill your vision. You couldn’t save him. Neither of you would fulfill your promise to the other. You thought of Giyuu, hopefully on the other side of the mountain with the others now. Somewhere far away. Where the hand demon wouldn’t find them in time. In your final moments, you prayed, to anything that would listen, that Giyuu would make it back home.

It was the last thing you did before everything went dark.

Twenty-Five

Years passed since Muzan Kibutsuji was defeated. All of the demons who preyed on humans were eradicated. The fight was finally over. Giyuu made the most of the four years he was given, mindful of the timeline given to him when he obtained the demon slayer mark.

He knew it was his time. He laid in his bed, in a small house he obtained with land to till. Something quiet after all his time in the demon slayer corps. His old haori lay across a chair, the mask you gave him hanging from the wall.

You told him you would take it back when you returned. Instead, he arrived back at the mountain alone, carrying your mask and Sabito’s haori. He didn’t know how he was going to tell your mentor. Thankfully he didn’t have to. One look and Urokodaki only nodded, vowing to never send another student to the final selection. The day he left the mountain he thought he saw you and Sabito standing there, only to disappear when he turned around.

When they made him a hashira he heard your voice, telling him that all three of you would make it. That they should be honored to have three water hashira. He thought about the night before the final selection and the promise his two friends made to each other. Once again he thought it should have been him who died instead.

In the weeks leading up to this moment, he’d been having the same dream. A woman on her wedding day, dressed in a white kimono, her hair piled up with an elaborate pin. Some nights it was his sister, other nights it was you. Or at least he thought it was. You looked to be the age he was now, what you should have been. Both women denied a future in exchange for saving his life.

Giyuu turned his head, feeling a hand on his own. He looked up to see his sister kneeling beside the bed. She gave him a warm smile, rubbing his hand in reassurance. If this was a dream he wasn’t sure if he wanted to wake up.

“It’s been a while, Giyuu.”

He directed his attention to the voice, one he recognized as his best friend. Sabito stood at the foot of his bed, a smile on his face. You stood next to him, your face as kind as he remembered. Tsutako gripped his hand, helping to ease him out of bed. His body felt lighter than it had in days.

You stepped forward, grabbing his other hand, holding it in both hands as if he would break. A smile on your face.

“We’ve come to bring you home.”

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer #giyuu tomioka #sabito #sabito kny #tomioka giyu x reader #sabito x reader

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terrm9 · 4 years

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you give it to me anyway (Tatum X Lina)

Set immediately after the ending of chapter 13.

Update (after the events of chapter 14): in this little series, Tatum does not go back to the army but is relocated to work as a bodyguard for some random politician in Rutherland. That's why this goodbye of theirs is not as heartbreaking as it was canonically. Therefore, shall the two other parts happen, they will not follow canon because I have them planned and I refuse to make new plans

WC: 3 600; rating: M (mature)

Warnings: swearing, making out, mentions of smoking, alcohol consumption, adult situations; hurt/comfort

Author’s note: my first Foreign Affair fic - it was so much fun to write I forgot about my two idiot doctors for a while. This is supposed to be part 1 of three-parts mini series, but 1) I have no idea when those two other parts will happen and 2) if it goes by plan, they will be all completely okay to read as stand-alones so hopefully this will be enjoyable no matter what.

She could feel it. She could swear she could; she could pinpoint the moment her mind stopped working and all the energy normally divided between the gears in her head and the beating of her heart suddenly focused solely on the latter.

Her mind stopped working and her heart drummed against her ribcage twice as hard.

Lina doesn’t remember much after that, after bursting through the door and demanding an answer (“Why the fuck would you take Tatum off the team?”), her memories a messy blur of shouting (hers), a voice trying to calm her down (Demarco’s) and the one that mattered in the end.

“Lina,” Tatum put his hand on her shoulder, his face stoic – but she knew better, she could see his eyes, eyes pained, eyes pleading. “Get inside. I will be with you in a moment.”

“But-“ she opened her mouth to protest, only to be stopped by Tatum’s gentle squeeze and eyes more pleading.

Just get in and wait for me, he whispered and that’s how she has gotten here.

Pacing back and forth in her room, biting her lip so hard she feels blood. Her brain is working again, thinking and analyzing (overthinking, overanalyzing) and she needs a cigarette, a shot of vodka, she needs to punch something (someone), needs to just do something.

The tremor in her hands violent and she clenches them in fists, telling herself that it’s anger, a rage running through her whole body, but there is that traitorous voice that whispers – no, screams – that she knows this is more than that, that it’s fear.

A lump in her throat formed and unmoving and Lina swallows once, twice, keeps swallowing until she cannot catch her breath but the fucking lump is still there and tears are threatening to fall from her eyes and-

No.

Line Monroe does not cry. She has learnt not to cry, hasn’t cried since-

She does not cry.

Tries to take a deep breath but it’s completely useless and Lina knows how she feels. Like a crystal vase in the middle of a big wooden table, beautiful and shiny and protected at all costs – all of it worth nothing when an earthquake comes. This is her personal earthquake, every second pushing her closer to the edge, sobs threatening to cut her open, to leave her mouth and never stop and she wonders if falling over the edge and just break into million pieces would be such a terrible thing.

She could beg. She would beg, if only that would help. She only begged once in her life.

(Lina has never been the picture of a perfect child – well, definitely not after Tatum left. No, she lived for making her mother’s political career an actual hell, she laughed into her face in the middle of a scolding. The First Daughter of Rutherland couldn’t give less fucks about what her mother wants, needs, asks for. Nobody ever asked what she wanted, needed, asked for.)

She only begged once in her life – she was seven and desperately wanted a puppy. (She could do it again at the age of twenty-two and desperately wanting her Tatum.)

Mom, I promise I’ll be good. (Mom, I promise I’ll be good.)

I will take care of him. (He will take care of me.)

I won’t eat sweets. (I won’t smoke. Won’t get drunk.)

I will do all of my homeworks. (I will go on as many fake dates as you want.)

I won’t watch TV. (I won’t cause another scandal.)

I will clean the whole house! (I will attend all the summits, I will, I will.)

Mom, please. (Mom, please.)

She never got the puppy. (She knows that no matter how much she begs, she will not get to keep Tatum, either.)

An earthquake and she is starting to accept her fate, awaiting the final shake, the strongest vibration that will make her fall from the table and shatter.

There is a soft knock on the door and she feels it coming, the magnitude strong enough to stir fear inside of people.

Tatum walks in, closing the door behind him carefully – and the Richter scale does not have enough values to describe how dangerous this earthquake has gotten.

“Lina,” he whispers softly, stretching his arms towards her and that’s it.

The crystal vase falls to the ground (into Tatum’s arms) and the shards cut skin (and the sobs cut Lina open).

It is easy after the first one – like the blood spilling out of the cut, like a plug removed and water pouring, flooding, destroying, the sobs leave her mouth and her shoulders shake and Lina hasn’t done this in four years, hasn’t shed a tear for so long but Tatum’s arms encircle her, strong and firm and safe and no, breaking into million pieces is not such a terrible thing after all.

She thinks she screams in one moment and Tatum only hugs her tighter, slowly dropping to the soft carpet, pulling Lina with him, his arms never (never, never) leaving her shivering body – and she holds onto him tighter than she holds onto her own life (own dignity, own worth, none of it more important that holding onto Tatum), hands still clenched in fists. Lina’s grip on his perfect white shirt must be uncomfortable and she is sure she is ruining the fabric, if not with her nails then definitely with her mascara-tinted tears.

For a long, long moment they stay like that – Tatum kneeling on the floor and Lina curled up against his chest, sobs wrecking her body and his hands drawing soothing circles on her back.

“We will make this work, Lina,” he whispers when the room falls into silence, the only memory of Lina’s ignominious breakdown being Tatum’s soaked shirt and her throbbing temples. “You are strong and the other bodyguards are capable. Demarco is a good agent, they will keep you safe.”

“I don’t care about being safe,” she scoffs. “All my life, everyone has only cared about me being safe. You are… You have always been the only one to care about how I am feeling. If I am happy. And now you are leaving again.”

Tatum pulls back a little – not enough to break the contact of his hands on her shoulders, just enough to look her into eyes – and with a voice that is quiet but firm, leaving no room for doubts, he says: “I am not leaving you, Lina. I won’t be returning to army, okay? I am going back to Rutherland tomorrow and only then I will be informed about this move – maybe I am only being taken off for some time. This is not the same as the last time.”

“I cannot lose you again,” she whispers, not meeting his eyes. As if she was not sure about her decision to share such moment of vulnerability with him.

“You will not. Who is my toughest galyetas here, hm?”

Lina looks up at him at that, the initial shock from hearing the old nickname (the one she hasn’t heard in years, the one she has missed for years) soon replace by her smile, however faint and it’s like the sun peeked into the room all at once.

(Eyes puffy and red, cheeks wet from tears and lips swollen from biting and has she always been this beautiful?, Tatum wonders.)

“I am,” she chuckles before Tatum demands the answer and encouraged by the moment of clarity that has settled over them, she manages to stand up and open the closet.

Impulsive would be a great word to describe Lina. Unpredictable. Fierce. Mostly fierce, Tatum thinks and it should not be a surprise for him when Lina takes off her skinny jeans and light blue blouse, carelessly throwing them over the chair and it should not be a surprise when she follows the motion to take her bra off, no, it should not be a surprise for him and yet-

The heat in his cheeks is inappropriate, for God’s sake, and he should – he must – tear his gaze off her naked back, but he cannot (and how many nights he wished he was granted this? how many days?). He stares and stares as she ruffles through the closet and it’s his time to clench his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out to her.

“I should… I will leave you to change,” he finds his voice and it’s low and husky and inappropriate, but Lina just smirks as she turns slightly to face him better and he needs to avert his gaze, he must not stare at the curve of her breasts, so perfect above her ribcage.

“You have already seen me naked,” the smirk widens. “And besides, you should get out of that wet shirt too.”

Getting out of his clothes does not sound like a good idea to him, not in the slightest, but it gives him a reason to look down and unbutton his shirt – and that motion gives him some time to take a deep breath and respond.

“Yes, I have seen you naked. When we were five and swimming in a lake.”

He can swear he heard Lina mutter ‘time to check how much has changed in those fifteen years’, but Tatum doesn’t trust himself enough to engage in that conversation and so he carefully slips out of his jacket and the stained shirt and switches his radio off before putting everything in a neat stack on the top of a drawer.

Tatum sits down again after that, his back leaned against Lina’s bed and soon she joins him, soft grey cotton shorts and tank top on. She mirrors his position and they share a private smile, because it is their position, the one everyone knows them by – knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder, (heart to heart), Tatum’s arm wrapped around Lina’s shoulders and her hand resting on his right knee. It is always this position for them and Lina can’t count how many photos they have together, where they sit exactly like this.

“Are we going to be okay?” she whispers, almost not daring to break the comfort they bring out of each other. But she needs to. She needs to know that they are going to be okay.

“Of course,” he nudges her knee with his own softly and smiles down at her. For a moment, she pretends she does not see the panic swirling in his eyes, giving away that he does not know, that there is no of course for them.

She nods, her fingers drawing mindless patterns on his leg and she is sure they are not that mindless, she knows that in a language only known to them she is writing her confessions, she is writing a love letter.

More mindless patterns and Lina feels Tatum’s eyes on her, caring and loving and worried, definitely worried, but she doesn’t look up at him because the emotions his gaze can stir inside of her are enough to send her into another breakdown.

“Do you remember Scott Diaz’s party?” she asks into the silence.

Tatum chuckles loudly and squeezes the shoulder he is hugging. “Of course.”

“It was the first time I got drunk,” Lina says as if it was an explanation itself, when in reality this conversation was not making any sense so far.

Scott’s party was the one which only Lina attended when she was sixteen – Tatum had to stay home to help his father with something (it was not important to Lina back then) and Lina didn’t mind that much because she liked Scott and she believed there were higher chances of her charming him without Tatum’s alert gaze directed at her.

“Yes, I remember,” Tatum decides to play this game that makes no sense with her. “It was my toilet you threw up into that night.”

“I remember getting drunk with Scott and his stupid friends and realizing that they were a group of idiots, with Scott being the greatest idiot of them all. But I was drunk and he was my first crush and I just wanted him to like me and I was ready to do anything.”

“Yes,” Tatum says again, this time much more quietly, though. “I remember your phone call at 2 AM. You were crying and asked me to come and rescue you because you are drunk and nauseous and Scott is a dick but you might sleep with him if I don’t come.”

There is a long pause and Lina thinks he might not continue. Even worse, she fears he might ask why she is bringing the story up now.

To her utmost surprise, Tatum laughs and continues: “I stole my dad’s car so that I could get you out of there faster. You threw up in the backseat and my dad almost killed me because he was supposed to take your mother to the airport the next morning.”

Lina laughs with him shortly and the room falls into silence once again.

Once again, Lina makes sure to interrupt the comfort it brings.

“And then you left and there was nobody to rescue me anymore.”

She is not sure why she said that. No, Lina does not want to tell Tatum about those years he has been away. She is scared (and she has never been that scared in her whole damn life), scared to share the failures and slips of her past, scared that he would get up and leave-

(Because that’s what he should do)

-scared that he would see what she sees every time she looks in the mirror and Lina does not care about the opinion of the others, she does not care if someone sees her as someone worthy or not, as long as that someone is not Tatum.

Deep down, she knows he would not, he will not leave, she knows Tatum - the same Tatum that strokes her upper arm now, giving her the space to sort her thoughts – will stay with her even in the moments she does not want to stay with herself.

And there is one fear that is bigger, greater, more terrible than the fear of being left – fear of hurting him. The idea of her past being the reason of his hurt, being the thing that puts the haunted look into his eyes, makes her want to throw up.

She will need to tell him eventually because if somebody deserves her honesty, it’s Tatum Mendoza, her best friend, her savior, her Tatum.

Eventually does not mean now.

Tatum wishes Lina could say something, anything, he wants her to share her demons with him and he almost asks her to tell him everything but before he can do so, she turns abruptly and looks at him, her eyes no longer puffy or red – glossy and bright and beautiful now and she doesn’t say a word.

She just looks at him like he is the only thing in the whole world worth looking at.

"It's your eyes," she says quietly, reaching to cup his stubbled cheek with her left hand.

"My eyes?" Tatum asks, surprised by the sudden statement.

Lina nods, tracing his left eyebrow with her finger before moving to stroke the skin under his eyes and finally reaching the bridge of his nose.

"There's no one else's eyes that could see into me," she whispers and her finger traces circles around his right eye now, soothing the wrinkles - reminders of their earlier laugh.

(She doesn't know those wrinkles are hers; nobody makes him laugh like she does)

Her gaze doesn't leave those eyes, not for a second and and the intensity she looks at him with is far more intimate than her naked form, bare torso and soft skin she shared with him moments ago.

Tatum is sure he must be blushing.

It’s the moment her thumb traces his lower lip when they snap.

The atmosphere of fear and uncertainty and mutual understanding so deep it ignites further fear changing into the one of passion and need and fire, fire, fire, burning inside and outside, the moment their lips meet.

He has kissed many girls and he knows Lina has kissed many people too and fuck, they even kissed each other before but this kiss is different, filled with more than just years of friendship (years of love) – filled with years of separation, years of longing, years of pain.

They kiss as if the pressure of their tongues against each other’s could be their private painkiller.

A moment later they are on the bed and Lina is not sure how they got there, she can’t remember they mouths parting but it must be so, because she is laying on her back, her hands firmly against Tatum’s shoulder blades to pull him closer and it still feels like he is not close enough, one of his hands next to her head and the other tangled in her hair, pulling on them and massaging her scalp all at once as he kisses her the way she has never been kissed before.

Lina’s hand moves from his upper back to his shoulder, caressing the old scar there and moves to his chest and his stomach and she feels him growl against the skin of her neck at the touch, the vibrations sending shivers over her whole body; she reaches his waistband and her finger fumble on the button of his trousers as he kisses her collarbone.

His fingers circle her wrist suddenly and he moves her hand away from him, gently (as he always is with her, gentle).

“You don’t want-?” she doesn’t know what to say. Me? This? Us?

“I want everything with you, Lina,” he sighs and it’s almost painful sound. “But I cannot take an advantage of this situation. You are – we both are – worried about your future, exhausted and uncertain and I don’t want our first time to happen under such circumstances. You deserve much better.”

There is a part of her that wants to cry again. Sob again and punch someone, because of course he is right.

(It is every single part of her, actually. Every single part wants to cry and sob and punch)

He is right, as he always is. He knows what she needs even when she doesn't know it herself – he always had known. Five years apart did nothing to change that.

Lina traces the lines of Tatum naked torso with her eyes and perhaps it should scare her how familiar it feels. She knows his body, every (almost every. Almost, she reminds herself) scar and every freckle, his flexed muscles and long fingers, she knows his body, even though she grew up getting to know a body of a boy and now her fingers are caressing a body of a man.

She hates how vulnerable she feels and how much she wants to share everything with him. But that's now what she has taught herself, no.

And so, despite the disgusting feeling of tension in her throat, she smirks and asks: "Why do you care about the first time so much?"

Tatum chuckles and makes a show of rolling his eyes (not leaving his position above her, not even now), biting his lower lip deep in his thoughts.

When he looks down at her again, however, his gaze is tender, too tender and intense and Lina has to avert her eyes because surely he can see into her, he can see all that she has done, all that she has caused while he was gone, not there to save her, to take care of her.

"It's not the first time I care about," he speaks softly and any hints of amusement are gone. "It's the first time with you."

She almost asks him about his first time – she knows it must have happened after he left. There is the part that is Tatum’s childhood best friend and is simply curious. They shared everything with each other – first crush and first kiss and first platonic love, she knew his and he knew hers. Of course she is curious about his first sex or how many firsts there were, how many people that got to know him in the way she has never gotten.

There is another part of her, a bigger one, she realizes with dread, that hopes he would tell her that he has lost count, that his five years in army were filled with infinite excesses and that he would rather not talk about it – maybe then her deeds would be justified.

She cannot ask him because it’s Tatum and he would ask back.

What would she tell him?

She laughs to herself, a sardonic sound lacking any hint of joy it is supposed to carry.

I have no idea. I am not sure about the first nor about the last time. I cannot count them, I will never be able to count them because I do not remember.

I do not remember.

“Lina,” he whispers, still hovering above her. “Don’t do that. Stay here with me.”

“I-“ she opens her mouth – for what, she doesn’t know. To explain or to apologize?

“We do not have to talk, mahal. We can just lay next to each other until the morning comes, alright?”

Tatum lays down next to her and wraps his arms around her without further questions and as she puts her head on his chest and listens to the steady beat of his heart, she feels calm for the first time in weeks.

“Alright,” she whispers back.

They lay next to each other through the night, listening to each other’s hearts and breathing and Lina thinks that even though they don’t talk, there are novels of conversations exchanged between them that night, written in the softest of sounds they make.

*** *** ***

Ever since finding out that Tatum is Filipino, I felt this desire in my heart to throw some (nick)names for Lina in his native language here and for him to use them. I can’t see him calling her darling on daily basis, but I can see him muttering it in the language he grew up with when the moment asks for it

galyetas = cookie, biscuit (Tatum’s nickname for Lina since forever)

mahal = darling, sweetheart

I am not exactly happy with how the ending turned out but it’s not going to get better so you have to suffer through it with me

Thank you for reading!

#foreign affairs #tatum x mc #tatum mendoza #tatum x lina #play choices

96 notes · View notes

riversofmars · 3 years

Note

Sometimes 13 just poses as a student and attends rivers lectures.

Hellooo! I’ve been saving this prompt for a long time cause I love it so much and now finally did something exciting with it! This is actually a little collaboration I did with @serawalkerwrites. She keeps getting asked to write for DW and never has, so we decided to do a little thing together! Basically, we took turns writing paragraphs! She's written the River bits and I wrote for 13. Really fun thing to do because our styles are quite different but it worked :D Apart from the fact that she made me write in present tense which I hate lmao! Also, if you like American Horror Story or Ratched, check out her stuff!

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2300

Read on AO3 or below

Like The First Time

“I might be younger and far prettier than the other Professors at this University, but that doesn't mean I don't expect the same level of good behaviour from my students,“ Professor River Song barks up the rows of lecture hall seating, slapping her papers on the desk. She tosses her bouncing curls of hair and brings her hands to her hips, watching the chatting students in the back row and waiting for them to take notice. That blonde girl seems to whispering at some speed, with enthusiastic hand gestures to boot. “That means you in the back row!“ She raises her voice again, finally getting the young blondes attention.

The Doctor hadn’t been able to stop herself. When River had started talking about the Venusian tomb she’d visited not long ago, it had been a perfect opportunity to tell the other students about the time she’d been invited to a funeral service there. It’s an incredibly stupid thing to do, of course. She isn’t meant to interact with anyone - as strictly speaking - she isn’t meant to be here. For a start she isn’t actually a student at Luna University; for another, she could very well be causing some damage to the fabric of space and time. Visiting her wife earlier in her timeline is risky… but she hasn’t been able to stay away. Sometimes, when the Doctor misses her a lot, she sits in on her lectures, right at the back. She knows River won’t recognise her and she never speaks to her… there’s no harm no foul is there? However, a slip up is bound to happen eventually.

Now, as she looks at River, who is shooting her piercing glare from the front of the auditorium, the Doctor realises she’s messed up. The Doctor looks left and right to the other students, hoping it’s one of them River is scolding.

“Yes you, don't act like I cant see you -“ River lifts her eyebrows at the petulant student. “Forget it, I’m not shouting at you from down here, stay behind after class. Then we’ll talk, and believe me you won’t like what I have to say.“ River rolls her eyes away, a taut huff tumbling from her lips to find her inner calm once again, before continuing. “Now where were we…“

The Doctor shrinks back in her seat, her neighbouring students giving her sympathetic smiles. Others just snicker and smirk. River has a reputation for strictness, no-one messes with her…The Doctor’s made a big mistake. She glances to the exit; she can still escape this situation. But if she does, she’ll never be able to come back. Perhaps it’s time to face her wife at last. She gnaws her bottom lip anxiously and tries her best to sit still for the remainder of the lecture.

As a shrill bell rings out, signalling the end of class and an end to the Doctors torture, River watches the troublemaker while she packs her things. Students rise to their feet, stuff their bags with books and file out in an eager swarm, heading into the midday sunshine. But not this student. She’s bouncing down the steps to the front, an epic grey coat and too-short trousers have her piquing River’s interest before they start talking. “Ah, good. At least you decided to be smart this time and not run-off out the doors. I would have found you,“ River informs the girl, whose swinging her arms and looking guilty. If this were any other circumstance, then River might have bought her a drink. But as it is, she's her student, however adorable she is. “Care to tell me what is so pressing you had to take time out of my lecture to talk about it?“

“Ah well, you know, the whole thing about the Venusian tomb, just brought back some memories to when I was learning Venusian aikido. There was this one time when I was invited to a funeral at one, which - you know - is a big deal for any outsider and…“ The Doctor starts rambling, unable to stop herself. A grin spreads across her features, hoping to entertain River with her story, as she had done so many times in the past. River always liked to listen to recounts of her adventures.

“Venusian Aikido?“ River folds her arms, skeptical. “They don’t teach that to just anyone. I happen to be a black belt myself.“

“Oh I know.“ The Doctor grins.

“It’s not on my resumé,“ River parries, her eyebrows lifting into an arch. “So someone told you. Perhaps at this funeral, you supposedly attended?“ River laughs doubting the girls claims. “No-one just gets invited to a Venusian funeral, or a wedding, or any kind of ceremony unless you’re a honoured noble. Which you clearly cannot be, no offence Sweetie but -“ River pauses. She stares at the blonde and her mismatched clothing, then bunches her lips. “What did you say your name was?“

The Doctor doesn’t answer immediately. This is it, the moment of truth. She could just tell her… surely there’s no harm in it. This is River Song after losing her parents in Manhattan, and before Darillium; there is no real reason to keep her identity from her. Apart from the fact that she isn't sure how she will react. They didn’t see each other for so long in between Manhattan and Darillium, enough for River to come to doubt if the Doctor had ever truly loved her. Her words still echo through the back of the Doctor’s mind now. The Doctor doesn’t and has never loved me. - But you are the woman who loves the Doctor. - Yes I am. I never denied it. But whoever said he loved me back? Those words still haunt the Doctor, even after spending 24 years with her in which she’d done everything she could to convince her of just the opposite.

“Jane Smith.“ The Doctor answers at last with a thin smile.

River lets out a loud chortle. “Jane Smith? Of course it is,“ River replies not believing her for a second. Who has the most standard name of all names like that? River postures a little, shuffles her papers around into a neat pile already thinking of the lunch that’s waiting for her in the refectory, because she's not getting any truth from this girl. “I don't recall your name on my student register; so…how about you tell me the truth.“ River hooks her bag over her shoulder and takes a long stride forward, claiming the podium as her space, the lecturer to the student. River examines her, because if she’s not her student, then who is she? All beautiful round eyes and choppy blonde hair, River certainly doesn't recognise her. Should she, recognise her? “Or you can come to my office and explain yourself there.“

“I uhh…“ The Doctor swallows hard. Of course she doesn’t believe her, people rarely do initially; but usually she can use her psychic paper to back up her identity. She knows River would see right through that if she tried it, so that isn’t an option. “Well, I’ve actually got somewhere else to be. A really very important…thing. A thing that can’t wait, so…it was really nice talking to you, brilliant lecture. Slightly exaggerated in some parts but - you know - got to keep the students engaged…“ Her eyes flick to the door. She’s parked her TARDIS in a supply closet, so it’s not far away.

“Are you calling my stories embellished?“ River trails after this Jane Smith towards the door, flabbergasted. She’s a bone fide time traveller, she knows her subject matter better than anyone in the known universe, except - “It’s not as though you can possible know better? How old are you anyway, twelve?“ She carries on trying to get under the girl’s skin, who is clearly hiding something. “Where on earth are you going? You realise that’s the closet.“

“Why are you following me?“ The Doctor had hoped to simply shake her but River seems to have different ideas. She doesn’t dare open the supply closet door, River would see the TARDIS and she would be done for. But where else could she possibly go? She looks around anxiously for a way out.

“Mmm it seems you might be trapped…“ River drops her voice to a knowing whisper. She smirks, delighting in watching the girl fret.

“I just… forgot which way I… uhh…“ The Doctor struggles for a response suddenly aware of how close River is getting to her. And that smirk… She knows it all too well. Like a lioness stalking her prey. She can’t even think of a credible lie to get her out of her predicament.

“Which way you meant to go?“ River bobs her finger on her lip pretending to think hard about it. “My office is this way, if you didn't get the hint earlier.“ River ghosts her hands over the girls hips, rubbing into her hipbones with her thumbs and sucking her lips and humming. “Jane Smith. I appreciate the code name. You can slip me your paper later, I’ll be sure to mark it up a grade, well, depending on your performance of course.“ River winks coyly.

“I…“ The Doctor’s mouth suddenly feels really dry, she can’t speak. Flirting and reading innuendo isn’t exactly her forte but River can’t possibly be more obvious with her advances. Is this what River is like when she isn’t around? The Doctor isn’t sure whether to be flattered or hurt. They’re not exactly exclusive but she doesn’t like her nose rubbed in it like this. But at the same time, perhaps this is an opportunity… She could be with River without having to reveal her identity… but is that something she wanted to do under false pretences?

“Good talk, come along!“ River grins and leads the way across the lecture hall to the staff door, and unlocks it with a quick key-twizzle, then presses the door open wide to wave ‚Jane‘ through. River uses the opportunity to loop her arm around Jane’s waist and scoops her in the right direction down the hall towards her office.

The Doctor doesn’t know what to do. Things are moving fast, River doesn’t even give her a chance to protest. Her hearts seem to skip their beats when River pulls her along.

Once inside, River tosses the door shut and wastes no time in pushing Jane against it, roaming her hands up and down her sides and snapping the elastic braces. “These are retro, but I can go with the flow, off they coooome…“ River sings as she yanks them off Jane’s shoulders, then the coat, and where is the edge of this t-shirt? River is keen to feel her hands up Jane’s abdomen, and the flush of her skin. River knows her hands are rough - years of archeological digs will do that to a girl - but Jane is young and sweet enough to need a little roughing up.

“River…“ The Doctor tries to protest, this was moving too fast. Her breath catches when River untucks her t-shirt. The Doctor is still getting used to this new body and she suddenly feels very hot.

“First names already? My my…“ River tosses her mane of hair out the way as she leans in to kiss Jane on the neck, biting her and enjoying teasing her far too much. “Sweetie you do give yourself away, even in this body,“ River tickles her teeth along the Doctor’s collarbone searching for the next spot to bite. “I mean, I like it darling, but give me a heads next time -“ River explores the Doctor’s petite body with enthusiasm. “My apparatus is your apparatus and all that, got to get my head around it.“

“You knew?!“ The Doctor blurts out and pushes her off, holds her at arms length. “And you just played along?!“ She’s breathless from River’s kisses but her outrage overshadows her arousal.

River unbuttons her shirt confidently, tearing the sides apart and presenting her body to the Doctor once again, even if it’s all new for the Doctor, River is still River. “Well what did you think? I do this with all my students, Jane Smith?“ She smiles a broad, proud River smile and holds her hands out for the Doctor to take. “I’m married, remember?“ Mutually exclusive is…a bit of stretch, there might be other husbands here and there, but there is only one Doctor. “So, wife, how about a little ride on the merry-go-round with this new body?“

The Doctor just stares at her for a moment. It’s been a while since Darillium but she still recalls every moment, and River is just as beautiful as she remembers. And just as much of a temptress. She bites her lip, suddenly feeling very insecure. It would be her first time in this body…and it’s her first time being a woman as far as she can remember. That’s a lot to be anxious about.

Softening the come-on, River takes the Doctors hands and steps closer to her, squeezing her hands in reassurance. “I knew it would happen eventually, a wife and not a husband. It’s okay, you know.“ River takes a deep breath, and kisses her wife properly for the first time. Her lips are thinner softer and taste of cinnamon, but she kisses back just like her husband did. Her Doctor. “I love you. This adorable new body is just a bonus,“ she says gently, then kisses her nose for extra effect.

The Doctor can’t help but chuckle as she looks up to her. This was new. She is shorter than her! Though only due to River’s ridiculously high heels.

“I love you, too.“ She whispers nuzzling into her crook of her neck as she wraps her arms around her. River smells exactly the way she remembers, like sunshine on a spring day. “I’ve missed you so much.“ She confesses.

#Doctor Who #fanfiction #collaboration #prompt #river song #thirteen #thirteenth doctor #river x thirteen #thirteen/river #space wives #teen #It's professor song to you #Jodie whittaker #Alex kingston #femslash #fluff #flirting #otp #yes this was the secret project lmao

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sadistgalore · 3 years

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Chapter 13: Let's Try This One On For Size

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Alright, this one is rough. Similar to Chapter 7, but not as bad. But still, be warned and read the tags.

Taglist: @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams, @whumptakesthecake

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the taglist.

CW: referenced burning/branding, denied care, dehumanization, defiant whumpee, derogatory language, shock collar, guilt tripping, forced submission, caretaking whumpees, bound to a chair, freeze response, noncon stripping, noncon touching, forced to watch, fade to black/implied noncon

Forty-five minutes.

That’s the most Killian hadn’t moved today. He just remained laying still on the ground. Unmoving. For forty-five minutes.

Harper tapped her finger against the counter anxiously. She had been checking the time non stop, seeing if he had switched positions at all. This was the longest he’s been without moving. Guilt filled her stomach.

God, this is all my fault. I should’ve just kept my head down and he wouldn’t have gotten hurt!

She grimaced thinking about the night before with Killian, and the sobs he tried so desperately to hide as they laid together in the dirt. She pleaded with Luther to take him inside and at least wash his boiled face and arms, but the bastard simply kicked the boy and dragged her inside, saying he would be fine.

Had he been through worse?

She wished she could go out there and bring him in, but-

“Kitty.”

Speak of the devil.

Harper turned around, using all of her power to glare at the man who branded her arm- which still hurt by the way, she wasn’t allowed any burn cream, either.

Luther was leaning against the doorway, giving her a smug grin. “Something is bothering you. You’ve been slow with your chores.”

“That boy you tortured is bothering me,” the girl spat.

Luther laughed. “Torture? That’s a bit extreme, I was just teaching him a lesson.”

“Is that what you say to yourself in bed every night?”

The man’s smile faded as his face quickly became cold. “I’m getting real tired of this, Harper.”

The girl swallowed and tried not to lose face as the man came near her. “You’re supposed to respect me. Edward put you into my care and I do not deserve to be treated with this attitude of yours.”

Harper rolled her eyes, knowing she was going to regret what she was going to say next. “You can shove it.”

Slap.

Luther sighed. “I swear, either Edward is going soft on his fucktoys or I have a fucking donut on my head because you aren’t taking me seriously. What do you need me to do to get you to bow at my feet? Fucking shove my dick up your cunt like Ed does?”

Harper scoffed. “You’re fucking disgusting. I will never respect you, and you’re stupid if you think Dark has broken me. I ain’t bowing to no one.”

He grabbed her chin. “You will be.” Luther’s eyes moved toward the window, smiling once he saw his dog and the realization that came with it. “You like him, don’t you?”

Harper’s eyes widened. “W-What?”

“Kitty has a crush on Puppy,” he singsonged.

“I do not, psycho. I’m concerned for an innocent being tortured.”

Luther rolled his eyes. “Oh right, you’re a cop aren’t you?” He stopped and thought for a moment, then looked back up. “And I just figured out how to break you.”

Harper didn’t get time to ask how before the man walked out of the door and unlocked the cuffs around the dog’s ankle. He dragged Killian inside, throwing him to the ground and barking a “Stay” order, then retrieving a shock collar from his bag. He latched the collar to the boy’s neck, who was half awake and clearly scared, before finally going back towards Harper.

“Kneel.”

“No.”

Luther pulled out a remote, and Harper heard a scream come from Killian on the floor. The cruel bastard smiled as he threw the remote between his hands. “What was that?”

The familiar feeling of guilt came once again in her stomach, and Harper dropped down to her knees.

“Good kitty,” Luther praised. “This is going to be a fun day.”

It was hell. It wasn’t fun, it was fucking hell. Killian was nothing more than a bargaining tool for Luther to do whatever he wanted to Harper. Make him lunch? Yes, or the shock. Read the newspaper to him? Yes, or the shock. Kiss his shoes? Initially, no, but yes after Killian almost tore his throat out from screaming. Harper was nothing more than a slave.

Haven’t I always been before Luther?

No, you were just complying with Dark to survive and not be hurt. Now you’re complying to not get Killian hurt. He hasn't taken your mind.

Harper looked over from where she was scrubbing the floor, hearing quiet gasps of pain and sniffles. Killian was curled up in a ball in front of Luther, the former using him as a footrest as he watched TV. She looked closer and could tell that his arms were a painful red and definitely swollen. He needed medical attention immediately, not doing anything could lead to an infection.

“Luther-” The familiar scream of the boy was heard along with a faint crackle. “Sir! I mean, Sir, I’m sorry, please stop-”

“What do you want, kitty?”

“Please let me treat his arm,” Harper said, slowly making her way over to the two. She carefully grabbed Killian’s head into her hands and stared up at Luther. “Can’t you see how swollen his arms are? If the burns get infected he could die!”

Luther didn’t even look away from the TV. “Well, hopefully they won’t get infected. It’s not a huge deal.”

“It’s a third degree burn! On both of his arms! And his face!”

Luther finally looked away, nudging the boy with his foot so he could see his face. “Eh, it’s not that bad.”

“But it could be! Please, just let me treat him. You can do anything you want to me, not him.” Harper stopped, trying not to think about the endless amount of possibilities that could come with her proposal.

The man looked down at her, then at his dog, and looked back at her with a smile. “Fine, strip.”

Harper didn’t process the command for a moment, mind going blank as she stared at the man in front of her. She only saw his cruel grin and his evil eyes, she only felt the quiet breathing of the boy laying beside her. She just heard white noise.

“Harper.” With that, she snapped out of her trance, stomach dropping as she now realized the command she was given. Strip. She slowly nodded her head, arms reaching back towards her neck to unlatch the-

“Wait,” came a voice, which had not been spoken yet in this conversation. Harper looked down at Killian, who pushed himself up to a kneeling position in front of his master. “Don’t...don’t make her undress.”

“Oh really?” Luther hummed as he crossed his legs. “What offer are you going to give me in return?”

Harper’s breath stilled as she waited for the boy to respond. Don't offer yourself. Don’t offer yourself. Please, Ian, don’t offer yourself for me.

“Me. You can have me instead.”

“Ian, don’t-”

“Silent, kitty; sidenote, cute nickname. But I don’t accept your offer, Kill. I’m in the mood for cunt, not ass.”

Harper could’ve gagged. She and Killian were seen as nothing more than their objects to this man.

Luther pulled out the remote, causing both his captives to freeze. “Besides, you said you were allowed to speak?”

Killian screamed as the voltage was turned up to max, hands flying up to the collar. Harper grabbed onto the boy, screaming for Luther to turn it off. Luther did, eventually, before kicking the girl away and grabbing the boy. The two made their way to the bedroom, and Luther pushed the shaking boy into a chair. He grabbed some rope from a drawer, and tied it tightly around the figure.

Killian sat there sobbing, scolding himself for being so stupid. He wasn’t given permission to talk, now he’s going to get punished. It was all for nothing, Harper is still going to be-

Luther returned with a defiant Harper, who was using all of her strength to unlatch his hand from her wrist. The man pushed her onto the bed, and backhanded her hard against her face for good measure. Harper saw stars for a moment, then her body went still.

Luther laughed to himself, relishing the joy of seeing his doggy’s petrified face as he stared at his new friend, knowing she was about to be raped right in front of him.

“Jealous, doggy?” He asked as he began unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ve known you for years, Kill. I can see it in your eyes, you want to fuck her so bad. Too bad, this bitch is mine.”

Killian, not doggy, screamed out of frustration. He fought against his bonds, mind filled with rage. “You don’t know me at all you sick bastard! I’ve never wanted to!-”

“Hush,” Luther said in a colder tone. “I was planning on giving her lube, even going easy on her, but if you keep this up I’ll be pounding her with no mercy. You want that?”

The boy was quiet, but he still glared furiously at Luther.

“Huh? Answer me, mutt.”

The boy shook his head, rage dying down as he looked down to the floor.

“Ah, ah, ah,” His shirt was off now, and he began to climb on top of the girl with his pants unbuttoned. “You’re going to watch every fucking second of this, Killian. You know how hard I go on you, don’t make me do the same to her.”

Killian looked back up, tears beginning to drop down his cheeks. He looked at Harper, who was now slowly regaining more control, but yet at the same time stilled once she came into full focus of the man in front of her.

Luther chuckled as he knelt on the bed and began removing her clothes. “I love that look in his pets’ eyes. All of them have it; completely fucking petrified once I’m pinning them down to a bed. I bet you tried to fight it once, didn’t you? After Edward's teachings now you know to just lay down and take it.”

Harper’s lips trembled as she struggled not to cry, almost letting out a sob once her chest was fully exposed. The man’s hands caressed her torso, squeezing her breasts, before moving back down to her pants.

“Let’s see how tight you really are, hm?” Luther said once he was aligned. He turned towards the bound boy. “Pay attention, Kill. Let me show you how a real man takes a woman.”

And he did. The entire night he watched the gruesome, disgusting scene before him. He saw everything, he heard everything. He was forced to his captor’s familiar grunts and moans and his new friends' cries. He barely registered the tears falling down his cheeks. He barely felt the throbbing pain on his arms and face. He only felt deep sorrow and hopelessness. But he never looked away.

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horansqueen · 4 years

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Stuck With You - Chapter 38

Chapter 38: Stuck With You

🡪chapter 1 🡪chapter 2 🡪chapter 3 🡪chapter 4 🡪chapter 5 🡪chapter 6 🡪chapter 7 🡪chapter 8 🡪chapter 9 🡪chapter 10 🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28 🡪chapter 29 🡪chapter 30 🡪chapter 31 🡪chapter 32 🡪chapter 33 🡪chapter 34 🡪chapter 35 🡪chapter 36 🡪chapter 37

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

I wanna get stuck with you In the middle of the party We're just getting started I wanna get stuck with you In the eye of the tornado Rowing in the same boat I wanna get stuck with you Get stuck in the middle with you I wanna get stuck with you

Gotta go with the flow And ride the wave right where we're supposed to Yeah, we can go through all the highs and lows Yeah, life's a crazy roller coaster

click here to be on the update list

NIALL

We were lucky enough to find a store still open, buying everything she needed to snowboard before renting more equipment. I looked at her getting ready with a small smile and tried not to chuckle. She was endearing, and the fact that she was ready to try this just for me meant a lot and also proved a lot.

"Shit, I forgot my phone!" she let out, rolling her eyes and making me raise my eyebrows.

"Do you really need it right now?" I asked with a chuckle. "I have mine." I patted my shirt pocket and grimaced immediately, letting out a groan. "Fuck, I forgot mine too."

"Do you really need it right now?" she teased with a grin, making me smile more.

"Yes, one of us has to have one, just in case something happens." I took my gloves off and put them on the couch next to her. "Wait for me okay? I'll do quick."

She nodded and I looked around, realizing the place was more quiet than I thought it would be. I rushed to the hall and took the elevator, running to our room and walking in. The light was still on and I grabbed my phone on the nightstand where I left it but finally decided to search for hers, too. It took me about a minute to notice it on the desk placed against the wall and grabbed it, turning around to leave, before something caught my attention.

I frowned, recognizing the back of my head on a picture, and took it in my hand to look at it better. My eyes quickly roamed on my shoulder, neck and hair but when they stopped on Devon's forehead and hair, I held my breath. My fingers were slipped in it and my heart started thumping in my chest. I remembered exactly how I felt at that moment, how deep inside her I was, how her lips parted in pleasure. It was the very first time we ever had sex and looking at that picture made me realize we would always have something to remind us of this moment, something that would always bring many emotions inside me, including lust and love. I already loved her at that moment and I wanted to believe she did too.

I ran my finger on the part of her forehead I could see and sighed. It was still not completely clear between us, I knew we had a lot of things to talk about, but I was not sure what exactly stopped her from giving us a chance. I loved her, and she loved me, and obviously, we had been been through bad relationships and I was sure that neither of us would want the other to suffer again the way we had before. Besides, it was totally different. Abby didn't love me and I was pretty sure Henry didn't really love her either.

I couldn't believe she had brought the pictures with her and it made me wonder why she never showed them to me. She had talent to take pictures, there was no doubt about it, but this picture had probably turned out that good mostly because of luck. She couldn't have put much thought into it, giving the position she was in, but the result was incredible and something twisted in my stomach as I looked at it. I didn't know if other people beside us would be able to feel all the emotions that emanated from it but at the same time, I didn't really care. I liked to think we were the only ones who could understand, the only ones who could really feel deeply about it because of how involved we were. It was even slightly scary to know that some people could look at it without understanding the degree of intimacy in it.

I was about to put the picture back on the desk where I found it when the light of the room reflected something behind it. I turned it around and read the words written quickly at first and then slowly the second time. It was Devon's handwriting and I immediately recognized the second part she had scribbled. My heart skipped a beat as I re-read my own lyrics of the song I had written for her and I shook my head slightly. She had an incredible memory and it made the left corner of my lips raise in a small smile. I went back to the first part and my smile fell when I realized she had written an actual verse for my song.

"Darlin', are you always tryin' to blame me? Is it me or 'cause you came here? Just accept that time was wrong Oh, change thee I've been thinkin' bout it lately We never finished what we started Now I'm fearful that it's gone."

I sang it in my head a few times before doing it out loud but still very low. It fitted perfectly and I sighed, my eyes still roaming on the words. It was amazing to think we sort of wrote a song together and I loved knowing that each verse was the point of view of one of us. Did she know the song was about her? That thought made my heart jump in my chest before I rolled my eyes and let out a chuckle. It was not a secret that I loved her, not anymore, and it was a good thing. I wasted so much time trying to hate her even though I knew it was impossible.

I grabbed my phone and snapped a picture of the lyrics she wrote but also of the picture she took to be able to look at it whenever I wanted and finally checked my watch. I had been gone for a while and I rushed out, reaching the elevator as fast as I could. When I walked back to her, she was sitting on the couch, her head leaned on the back and her lips parted. I could hear her snore lightly and I chuckled, shaking my head.

"Devie, hey." I said softly, bending down to shake her gently and making her whimper. "Wake up."

She groaned and sat up quickly, rubbing her eyes and letting out a sigh. She was cute when she slept and I waited a few seconds until her eyes fluttered open to talk again.

"Come on, we only have time for a few basic things."

She got up but almost tripped and I held her, chuckling again.

"You okay?" I asked, moving my face a bit closer to look at her.

She sent me a small smile and nodded. "Yea sorry, just give me a few minutes to wake up completely." she licked her lips and finally raised her eyebrows. "Hey, what took you so long?"

"Oh, I couldn't find your phone." I half-lied, searching my pocket and handing it to her. "I put it in a plastic bag for you, just in case you drop it in the snow or something."

Her head tilted and she sent me a fond smile before pressing her lips together. I felt my heart skip a beat when she moved closer but she stopped herself suddenly. "Thank you."

I wanted her to kiss me. I wanted her to do it first, for once. It seemed like I was always the one who made the first move no matter what we did, especially when it came to something romantic. Maybe she's had had a few initiatives when it came to sex but somehow, whenever it was about love, she seemed reluctant.

"You're welcome." I whispered, fighting the urge I had to kiss her.

We grabbed our stuff and walked outside. I saw her shiver next to me when a whiff of cold air hit us but she still followed me to a very small slope. I tried to show her the basics but she was clearly scared to hurt herself and I finally sat next to her in the snow after she fell.

"How about we go a bit higher?" I proposed, smiling gently when I saw the alarmed expression on her face. "I'll be there with you, okay?"

It took her about a minute to answer. Her eyes roamed on my face and once again, I thought she was going to kiss me and my eyes dropped to her lips. She probably noticed because she licked them nervously and my gaze moved back to her eyes.

"Okay."

I helped her up and we walked slowly to the chairlift in silence. I kept glancing at her and she did the same but it's only when we were half-way there, completely up in the air that everything stopped. My heart jumped in my chest and my eyes got bigger when I realized we were stuck and I swallowed hard, turning to her as she did the same. Her lips curled a bit and she burst into laughing, throwing her head back and making my lips curl.

"It's good luck, remember?" she pointed out, smiling more. "That's what you said!"

"I still think that!" I laughed with her, taking my gloves off to grab my phone. "I'll text Lewis, I know he's near his phone. He can inform them and they'll come get us."

I typed something quickly and sent it, my eyes stuck to the screen until I got an answer from my friend that simply consisted of a laughing emoji and a thumb up.

"It's weird isn't it?" I finally said after a few minutes of silence. "How we always get stuck together somewhere when we have something to solve."

She turned her head my way and tilted it, sending me a small but curious frown. "We have something to solve?"

I turned my body as much as I could to face her and shook my head, my eyebrows raised. "Yes we do. Devie, why don't you want me to say you're my girlfriend?"

"We.. We didn't even discuss it."

"We are now." I pointed out with a sigh. "You said you loved me, we made love this afternoon. I didn't tell our friends because I saw how you reacted when I said the 'g' word this morning in the closet but, what do I have to do?"

"You don't get it."

"No! No I don't!"

I was trying to keep my cool but I wanted her to open up to me, I needed it. I needed her and I needed to be with her. It sounded obsessed, it was intense, but It was driving me crazy to know how she felt without being able to really be with her.

"I do love you! I love you so much Niall I don't think you understand!" she let out before breathing in deeply. I saw her tear up and my lips parted slightly. "You remember when you said I moved you? That my art moved you? Henry used to say that too. I know you're not him, but it's not easy for me to put aside all the pain I went through with him just to throw myself in a new relationship. I don't know how you do it. Abby has hurt you so much too and you're just ready to... to jump back into something official and serious with me." She breathed in and I noticed a tear falling down her right cheek. I wanted to reach out to her but I couldn't, I felt paralyzed. "I am nothing special. I am not like the girls you've been with. I am... I am lost, and scared, and scarred! I love you but I'm scared! I'm scared I'll give you everything and that you'll break me the way I was broken before! But I love you so much more than I loved him! I feel so much closer to you than I ever felt to him! And if you... if you leave... When you realize I'm average... or even below..."

I waited a few seconds, staring at her and she sniffed. It was crazy that she kept all that inside for so long, and at the same time, I was so happy she was finally telling me how she feels.

"Are you done yet?" I asked making her look in my eyes again before sending her a small smile. "Devie, I'm scared too. But I love you, I'm in love with you, and I'm ready to take that chance, because being without you is worse than being heartbroken by you. It's ok to love again!"

She sniffed again and pressed her lips together. I brought my hand to her face and brushed my fingertips on her skin, smiling more. "If you shut yourself from feelings, you may make sure that nothing bad happens and that your heart won't be broken, but you also miss all the good things and all the love you could get." I explained in a low tone. "I can't promise you that everything will always be perfect, but I promise I'll keep trying because that's how much I love you. I told you, Devie, you're my main girl. You're the protagonist of this story. No one can take your role. No one."

Her lips curled too and she chuckled before nodding quickly and bending closer to me. She pressed her lips on mine, making me smile too. "I wouldn't want to be stuck here with anyone else." she whispered, making me chuckle before kissing me deeper.

We started laughing against each other's mouth when the chairlift started moving again and finally walked back inside. We were both very cold and we decided to just go back to our room, taking the elevator in silence again. We both got changed into warm clothes and sat in bed together. She leaned her head on my shoulder and moved her legs over mine. I smiled when I saw her warm socks and left a kiss on top of her head.

"That painting you made here the other night..." I started gently, leaning my cheek on top of her head. "It was the first time I saw you paint with light colors. It was beautiful, it looked like a summer sky."

She reached for my hand on her thigh and intertwined our fingers. "All the paintings I made since I arrived here were about you. My art has been about you and my feelings for you, the emotions you made me feel." she explained, surprising me a bit, especially that all my songs were about her. "You make me feel those colors. You make me feel light and clear and warm. You make me feel alive."

"That's not what the painting in our room says, the one you gave me. There's yellow, but there's so much darkness in it. Every time I look at it, I feel horrible for ever making you feel so bad. I'm sorry, Devie."

She moved away slowly to turn around and face me. Her lips curled softly on the left and she licked her lips, shaking her head slightly. "You got it all wrong, Niall." she pointed out gently, raising her eyebrows. "You're not the black in that painting. You're the yellow. You're the light trying to reach me, stopped by my own demons and fears. You're the light in my life, Niall. You've always been the light."

I brought both my hands to her face and cupped her cheeks, kissing her harder than intended. I felt her move closer and straddle me and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her as close to me as possible. "I love you, Devie, I love you so much." I whispered in-between kisses. "Since the first day."

"I love you too." she murmured back, slipping her hands in my hair. "I always have."

----

We got prepared together the next morning and whenever I'd walk near her, I'd pull her close to kiss her lips and she'd giggle or smile. There was something natural in the way we moved together around the room, even in a place we were not used to, and I couldn't help but think it was a proof that we were made for each other. When we were ready, I grabbed her hand and pulled her closer, making her twirl around as she started laughing and I walked to the door, bringing her with me. We took the elevator to meet our friends downstairs but when the doors opened, I let go of her hand, not really sure if she had changed her mind. I didn't want to rush her, and I didn't want to lose her either. She glanced at me but still followed me to the main room where all our friends were waiting for us, talking and laughing together.

I turned to look at her as her eyes roamed on everyone and after about a minute, I felt her hand reach mine and grab it tight. It took a few seconds but Lewis finally noticed us, his lips curling into a smirk when he noticed we were holding hands. He hit Louis a bit roughly who just frowned but finally turned to us too before our friends noticed us one by one. I cleared my throat when Louis jumped off the couch with a big smile.

"Fuckin' finally!" he yelled, catching the attention of almost everyone in the room. "That's it? That's official? You two are dating?"

"Yes, it's official." Devon replied loud and clear, surprising everyone.

I noticed Mandy winking at her and squeezed her fingers tighter as Louis walked quickly to us, throwing his arms around my girlfriend's neck and holding her close.

"Took you long enough." he told her with a chuckle as she wrapped her free arm around him. "I'm so happy for you two."

Lewis walked to me to hug me too and then almost everyone followed. I noticed Abby sending me a small and sad smile from afar and I just smiled back gently at her, surprised that she took it so well.

"Okay!" Louis let out, clapping in his hands. "Who's hungry?"

Everyone started talking at the same time and they all decided to go to the restaurant to get some food before starting the day. I stopped Devon as she was following them, pulling on her arm to bring her closer to me and just wrapped my arms around her as she tilted her chin up, sliding her hands on my back.

"So that's it? You're my girlfriend?" I asked with an amused grin, making her smile too.

"Mmhm, I'm ready to try that boyfriend/girlfriend thing with you."

"Are you happy, Devon Eaton?" I whispered low, looking down at her.

Her traits softened and she looked at me fondly, in a way no one else had ever looked at me. "Happier than I've ever been. I love you, Niall Horan."

"Not as much as I love you."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan writing #niall horan story #niall horan enemies to lovers #niall horan college au #niall horan au #niall horan uni au #my fanfics #swy

65 notes · View notes

burnedbyshoto · 5 years

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mamihlapinatapei

— mamihlapinatapei: wordless yet meaningful look shared by two people who desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to start. —

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pairing: todoroki natsuo x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, daddy kink, praise, choking, cockwarming, orgasm denial

word count: 8,903

a/n: a commission for @redbeanteax��, sorry it took so long. my back is in so much pain and good god did i feel like i was cheating on shouto when writing this. i hope you enjoy it!!!!

message me to join my taglist!

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Soulmates were an old concept.

It was this phenomenon that had first occurred so many years ago. It was a miracle that allowed the two perfect halves come together.

In its initial introduction, divorce rates and plummeted to all-time lows! For an entire generation, divorce rates were at an all-time low of zero. No one in the world were getting divorces, choosing to stay with the person that was deemed worthy of them. It seemed for some time that people were going to fall in love with their soulmates and find happiness and prosperity for them.

That is until soulmates crossed borders, seas, racial tensions, economic differences, and sexual preferences…

The rich stopped trying to bring someone in for a rag to riches effect, choosing to instead marry within their own class circle, choosing wealth over love. International soulmates couldn’t figure out a common language, they’d sit in front of each other with lousy translator apps, unable to talk freely and openly, and soon their relationship was destroyed. Racial tensions were especially hard. There were reports of soulmates waking back up into their bodies to find their home destroyed and family hurt because their soulmate could not stand the thought -- the idea -- of the race of their soulmate. There were still homophobic people in this world of soulmates who could not accept their sexuality when presented to their soulmate who was the same gender and would not leave any means of contact behind.

Soulmates, while excellent and loving when it is something within your reach, turned out to be a pretty fucked up thing.

But nevertheless, it didn’t stop you from ever hoping that whoever your soulmate was, it would be someone who would love you precisely who you are, no matter who they were.

Your tired eyes focused on your paper, your eyes scanning the different lines that glowed on your computer screen, trying to find a better way to propose your thoughts. There wasn’t much to this paper, it was a reasonably simple paper about the pros and cons of soulmates for your anthro and philosophy class. Since you were little, you revered in the concept of soulmates, your excitement to be in love with someone for the rest of your life was a pretty solid thing, even at a young age.

As you grew older, you held onto this idea, choosing to ignore the issues with soulmates in favor of optimism and positivity. There were still many, many happy and in love, soulmates! After all, there was still an 87% rate for soulmates marrying each other, the opposing 13% came from the worst of people, the most disadvantaged of people, and the most influential people. It’s how it was.

For a college student in Japan, you figured that you had a solid chance of having a soulmate that you could love and have their love in return. But your issue was the mystery behind it, the unknowing of it all. While you knew that soulmates did mean pure love, there was a part of you that hoped that there this someone out there was someone you already knew.

Well, there was one person in particular.

“I’ll proofread your paper if you look at mine,” a tired voice croaked from hours of not being used.

Your eyes felt dry, and you glanced up at the white-haired boy who was the holder of your affections for about two years now.

Todoroki Natsuo.

“Only if you don’t make fun of mine, I’m so bad at this philosophical bullshit,” you groan, rubbing your face. You heard Natsuo snort, his arms stretched above his head, and your eyes dropped back down onto your screen, not wanting to be staring at him.

“Oh please, I’m sure I’ll feel leagues smarter by the time I finish reading it,” he grinned, and you felt yourself looking back at the white-haired man who was pushing his laptop towards you.

“You’re annoying,” you sigh, but there’s an undeniable smile on your face when you hand over your own device.

“Sure, sure.”

What was there to say about him?

You had met him two years ago during freshmen orientation, he was in your introduction group, and coincidentally in the same classes as you. The two of you ended up getting fairly close over the first semester of college, and by the end of your spring semester, you realized in horror that you had a crush on him.

These feelings weren’t bad, he was a respectful and caring boyfriend, that was something you knew without a doubt. Of course, knowing that he is that, and not hypothetically assuming it meant that he had a girlfriend. Yes, Todoroki Natsuo was a taken man.

You’d never really met his girlfriend. You knew who she was, how she looked like, her favorite things in the world, and her least favorite things, that’s how much Natuso talked about her. You had the pleasure of meeting her once, and the only thing you could remember is that she had mouse ears and the personality of a mouse. Scared, timid, and squeaky.

She barely talked to you, and after the initial meeting would never join Natsuo and you anywhere.

You didn’t take it personally, you wouldn’t really want to hang out with her either, especially with how you felt about Natsuo. It was a conflict of pretending that you and Natsuo were falling in love, ignoring the impeding time you had to be with him, and of course, the guilt that coursed through your body whenever you rested your head against his shoulder during these late-night studies.

In two weeks, it was July 2.

Somehow on this day, you would swap bodies with your soulmate when you fell asleep, and when you woke up, you had five minutes to figure out how to get them to reconnect with you. Most people left their phones unlocked that day, letting their soulmates leave their phone numbers in their phone, sometimes they’d leave their address, and Instagram and Twitter handle. After so many generations of soulmates experiencing this, and the ever-evolving technology, this was the way that people effectively found their soulmates once the five minutes were up.

But unlike what people had once assumed, there was no exact age as to when you would swap bodies. Some people were lucky to swap bodies at the age of sixteen, and the oldest recorded case was when someone was twenty-four. You were nineteen, as was Natsuo, neither one of you had this soulmate experience yet, but unlike before, you had a strong feeling that this was your year.

“It looks great,” Natsuo whistled lowly, his head shaking while giving back your laptop.

You felt your face grow warm at the praise, your fingers highlighting another sentence for him to correct, “Thanks.”

“What you thinking about mine?”

You sighed, pushing away from the table so that you were looking into his grey eyes that looked at you with curiosity and high respect.

“I’m a bit confused about your position,” you admitted, your fingers brushing back your hair so that you could look at the man whose lips pursed in thought. “You’re saying that soulmates are bullshit, but you believe it regardless?”

Natsuo nods his head, an embarrassed blush stretching across his face, “Well yeah, they kinda are. How is some cosmic thing the thing in charge of telling me about who I am to truly love?”

“So when you find out who your soulmate is, you won’t love them, but you’ll stay with them?”

“Yes? I don’t know… I know that my parents aren’t soulmates, and that didn’t work out. It’s hard for me to explain, but I really like Mausua, and I want to see how far things can go with her,” Natuso explains his thoughts to you, that stupid grin spreading on his face that always appeared whenever he talked about her. “I mean for years people didn’t marry their exact soulmates, but they were happy and in love for ages. Why can’t I try that out?”

You tried to hide the fact that those words hurt you. It shouldn’t have mattered, after all, there was no saying that the two of you were soulmates, and the probability of that happening was entirely slim to none.

“Yeah, why not?”

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June 30 - one-week left

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You were slumped on top of the table, your head banging against the cool wood while Natsuo recited his notes to you. The both of you were in the middle of some argument that had tailed off in fifty different directions, neither one of you admitting defeat.

“Natsuo, I don’t give a flying fuck if that’s what the notes say!” you yell, throwing your eraser at his head, an act that he easily evaded while continuing to read off his notes. “You don’t give the baby the torch flame!”

“You’re not even listening to what I’m saying,” Natsuo insists with a laugh, his notebook coming to hit your back slightly. “If you give the baby the flame, they’ll be unbeatable!”

If you could roll your eyes any harder than they did now, you were sure you would manage to see your brain, but instead, you shifted on the table so that you were facing Natsuo, and you stuck out your tongue.

“Put your tongue back in your mouth before I pinch it.”

“Sowwy, I donth understhand,” you retorted your nose, turning up towards the ceiling.

Natsuo’s hands grabbed your wrists, and you shrieked, immediately trying to fight him off while he dragged you towards him. Screams and laughter filled the air until Natsuo accidentally pulled you off the table. So there you two sat, on the floor of the study room, in hysterics.

Your hands clutched your sides, breathing failing you while your ass stung slightly from the pain of falling. Natsuo’s face was red, his feet slamming against the floor periodically enough that you almost assumed that he was going to pee himself.

“Just go to your stupid date already,” you groaned once your laughter subsided, your eyes resting on Natsuo, who was now laying on the floor exhausted. “You’re going to be late!”

Every Saturday after you and Natsuo were done studying, he would have a date night with Mausua. It was something he never missed, something he always made sure they did, even when his nose was dripping with snot, and he had the worst migraine. It’s just how he was.

Natsuo paused, his eyes looking at you with a shine of pain, and you sat up despite the soreness of your stomach. There was something wrong.

“She broke up with me,” Natuso admitted with a stiff smile, his shoulders shrugging. “Last night, she had this feeling that this was her year to find her soulmate, and well, I don’t know…”

His hand dragged across his face, and your eyebrows scrunched together. Scooting closer to him, you sat shoulder to shoulder with him before you nudged him with the back of your hand, “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, actually I am,” Natsuo responded despite the wry smile on his face, “I mean, it sucks, but what can I do about it?”

“Cry, scream, we can go buy cats and put them by her front door,” you began listing off a bunch of different things, most ideas being straight near criminal, but it made Natsuo laugh.

“Remind me to never mess with you,” Natsuo shoves you with his shoulder. The force of that alone nearly sends you flying, but you merely grunt in response. “But, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” you ask, obviously unconvinced.

“Yeah,” he nods, “I will take a hug if you don’t believe me.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up, stretching out a hand you helped Natsuo to his feet, and without a second thought, you wrapped him into a hug. Your body feels just a bit warm when he held you close.

“I’ll show up at her door with a cat and a baby with a blowtorch, just say the word.”

“Stop, you menace.”

“Shut up, you know you love me.”

“Have I ever denied that before?”

“Yes.”

“True.”

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July 1 - one day left

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“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!” You screamed, shoving a birthday present into Natsuo’s face the moment he opened the door.

Natsuo graciously accepted the present, his face brightening with a smile while he thanked you for the gift. “I thought I said I didn’t need anything.”

You shrugged, walking into the house and taking off your shoes, “That’s what you thought, but I am far wiser and know exactly what you need!”

Natsuo snorts, closing the door behind you, and the two of you make light chatter while walking into the house. It had been a while since you came to his house. The last time you had been around, he was still living under the same roof with his dad, but this one was without him. The house had a different energy to it, one that was nothing similar to that of the old house. It was comforting and warm, despite the coldness the family preferred.

Today was Natsuo’s birthday, and he had invited you over for his birthday dinner with his family, something that he didn’t do last year with you. Thankfully you had met most of his family, his sister Fuyumi was an obvious one, and you also had the chance of meeting Rei the other month while running into the mother and son at a tea shop one day. You also had sort of met his baby brother Shouto, who you only really knew because of the U.A. Sports Festival.

Dinner was lovely, the four Todoroki’s, and you enjoyed a bunch of sashimi while talking. The family dynamic was also bizarre for you to experience. Fuyumi was obviously used to being the conversationalist. She was very talkative and inquisitive during the entire night. Shouto was trying his hardest to -- in the most helpful way possible -- act normal. He was stiff but a good conversationalist if you overlooked the often weird phrases he had to say. Rei seemed to be the mediator, trying her best to enjoy the situation but also getting involved within these sibling discussions. And of course, there was Natsuo, who for the first time since you’ve met him was being quite the Drama Queen.

It was endearing to watch Natsuo quarrel with his sister and brother over matters that seemed so trivial and pointless. They were all very strongwilled, it seemed.

“How about you, y/n-chan,” Rei smiled at you, interrupting the ridiculous argument between Shouto and Natsuo about how Natsuo wasn’t going to wake up in someone else’s body the next morning. “Are you expecting to wake up in your soulmate’s body?”

You smiled stiffly, the searing gaze of the two Todoroki brothers burning into your body while you stared at Rei, was this family always this intense?

“Well, I haven’t yet,” you laugh, brushing your hair to the side, “I would definitely like to, but there’s no saying.”

Shouto seemed to sigh, his finger pointing at you, then motioning over to Natsuo, “But is Natsuo going to wake up knowing his soulmate?”

“Shouto!”

Dinner ended with a scoop of ice cream, and you listened in horror and fascination. At the same time, Shouto explained to his family about the insane adventures he’d had at U.A. After helping with cleaning up and thanking the family for dinner, you ended up following Natsuo into his room.

It took no time for you to fall onto his futon, your arms spread out on his bed while Natsuo grabbed your present for him.

“I wonder what this is,” he sang, plopping down next to you.

You immediately sat back up, a grin on your face due to the excitement that flooded your veins, knowing that this was a pretty damn good present.

“Obviously, it’s a photo album of me,” you teased, and he seemed to agree that it was that while he unwrapped it.

From the bag, he pulled out a hoodie that he had been raving about for months now. He had never bought it because he sucked at saving up money for this exclusive hoodie. It was a navy blue sweatshirt that had English print all over it, you couldn’t read what it said as you didn’t learn English while in high school, but it was supposed to be pretty cool.

“Y/n,” Natsuo breathed slowly, his eyes wide and round, his fingers barely touching the fabric. It was as if he felt the material too much it was stain with his fingertips or complete disintegrates within his touch. “How did you? It was sold out, I checked!”

“You told me about how much you wanted this months ago. It was too late for Christmas, so I bought it in advance for your birthday,” you explained with a grin. Warmth flooded your chest while you watched his starstruck expression, and you only felt your heart beat faster when he turned his attention onto you. So you smiled, even more, your eyes closing in your mirth, “Happy birthday, Natsuo!”

You expected him to hug you, to bring you in close and tell you how grateful he was for this gift -- if that much. But when his fingers touched your cheeks, your eyes flew open to see his gaze focused on your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

There was nothing you could say, your words failing you entirely because this is what you had wanted for years. Tonight was going to be life-changing for you -- whether it was a pleasant change or an adverse change, you had no idea. You’d wanted this for too long to deny him a just a kiss, right?

Your heart is hammering so loudly you swear he can hear it, and with a shaky placement of your hands on his wrist, you seal the space left between the two of you.

While you had never officially dated anyone before, you’ve definitely kissed other people before Natsuo. Most of the other kisses you had were -- quite frankly -- unideal. Stiff and cold lips, rigid bodies, too much saliva pouring from their mouths, disgust soaking your spine, and awkward hand roaming. But this? This was more than anything you could have ever hoped for.

His lips were gentle against yours. A soft rose petal that warmed you from the inside out, a flexible coax that reminded you that despite your ideals, this is what you wanted most. Your head tilted to the side, allowing your meeting lips to connect further, your bodies coming together in yet a bigger and more powerful wave.

But as the sensations that riled your blood and nerves, the actions the two of you grew bolder, riskier, much more passionate.

His fingers released your chin, moving to grip onto your waist, pulling you in. You gasped against his lips, the demanding actions catching you off guard. Your hands pressed onto his chest, your legs shifting so that you were now straddling the larger boy, and you swore you could see stars the second his tongue skimmed your bottom lip.

Closer.

Better.

Wistful.

Your back arched, your chest meeting his when his tongue traced the roof of your mouth, and your hips involuntarily ground against his nearly trembling thighs. He hissed, barely loud enough for you to hear, but his cold fingers slid under your shirt, and you shuddered.

There was no time to react, you felt your body being flipped, and Natsuo was on top of you, his hips grinding into you emphatically, continuously, and unrelentingly. Your hips met his with every movement, your legs wrapped tightly against his waist, trying your best to get him to lose his train of thought with every roll of your hips. The growing bulge in his pants was only a clear indictment to what you were doing to him. Of what was to come of this night. Your head fell back, your jaw-dropping, while you made choking noises, refusing to let such a loud audible noise escape your mouth. But it seemed that Natsuo wanted to hear you moan, to feel you squirm against his hold.

This was making your body explode with sensations you didn’t think was possible from someone who wasn’t your soulmate.

Natsuo’s lips pressed down your neck to your chest, your mind swam with the word soulmate, and your tongue was drenched with his name.

Soulmate.

Tonight was the night you were going to find out.

“I’ve been in love with you for so long,” Natsuo groaned, his tongue leaving wet stripes against your chest, and with the feeling of his fingers tweaking at your nipples through your shirt, you panicked.

“Get off me!” you squeaked, your hands shoving at his shoulders, your legs unwrapping around him.

“What’s wrong?!” Natsuo panics, his hands checking up and down his wrinkled clothes, his body on edge and filled with worry. “Did I do something wrong?!”

“I can’t do this!” you pant, your body feeling itchy at your conflicting emotions. You could do this, you knew that. It would take nothing for you to spend the night with one Todoroki Natsuo, but not on this night, not when you were so sure that you would figure out who your soulmate is. Not if they would wake up in your body with a naked man beside them. No, you couldn’t do that. “Tonight is the special night… and I can’t… we can’t! Not when there’s a possibility that someone is waiting for me!”

Natsuo’s eyebrows furrow, his face setting into an icy frown. There was a clear understanding on his face, emotions that let you know that while he was very disappointed, he understood.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your gaze no longer able to reach his.

“It’s okay,” he smiles weakly, but his voice is distant and terse. “I’ll see you out…”

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Your eyes focused on the ceiling of your bedroom.

Even though it was three hours since you’ve left the Todoroki residence, your heart was still unfairly beating at the thought of Natsuo kissing you, and the implications of what the both of you wanted to do but hadn’t mustered the courage to do.

You thought about the fact that he had just broken up with his girlfriend seven days ago, maybe he was projecting his no longer met hormones on you? There was no way your best friend was in love with you and chose not to say anything about it until now. But then again, because he was in a relationship, that confession would have been a dick move. But if he did love you, and not her, why would he have stayed with her?

You’re not really sure when you managed to pass out, considering that you had been tossing and turning for literal hours. But soon, you drifted off to sleep, with nothing but a prayer that when you woke up that you would be in someone else’s body.

Your eyes opened when a crack of sunlight hit your face, and you slammed a hand against your face. But your hand came down heavier against your face, and you groaned in pain. But it wasn’t your voice…

Shooting up from your bed, your eyes searched the room around you. It wasn’t yours, you knew that much. But there was something familiar about the color of the walls and the furniture of the room. Rushing to your feet, you saw a mirror and looked into it.

You were met with grey eyes, gentle, kind, and familiar grey eyes. Your fingers traced the pale skin and felt the white hair on your head.

What were the chances?

Todoroki Natsuo was your soulmate.

A smile spread across your face, an unbelievably gracious joy filling you up. But then Natsuo’s phone began to ring, and you picked it up to see your contact picture showing. It was a rather good picture of you and him, a memory from club rush during your first semester of college. On the top were your first name and a pure heart emoji.

Grinning much broader, you picked up the call, placing the phone to your ear, you spoke.

“Hello?”

“What were the chances?” you heard your voice respond back to you, and it took everything not to giggle lunatically within Natsuo’s body.

“I’d say less than zero.”

“Yet here we are,” he teased you, and you went to push back nonexistent hair behind your ear. Dropping your hand to the dresser, you shake your head.

“Are you disappointed?” you couldn’t help but ask, your worries about you being a distraction for him still hot on your mind.

“Definitely not,” he spoke softly, “I know what you’re thinking, y/n. That you were nothing but a distraction from Mausua, or how when I blurted my feelings, they were too in the moment. I should have broken up with her ages ago, but I don’t know. You just didn’t seem attainable to me.”

“You’re an idiot for thinking that, Todoroki,” you sniff, tears welling in your eyes.

“Hey, now,” he reprimanded you, but the teasing was still heavy in his tone, “it’s Todoroki-san to you.”

A smile grew on your face, and you scoffed playfully, “Todoroki-san? I’d much rather call you daddy.”

Now you knew what noises you made, you were nineteen, nearly twenty with a few sexual experiences yourself. Now the sound that escaped Natsuo’s voice was one of approval, and heat spread through your body.

“We have less than a minute,” Natsuo spoke as lowly as your voice could go, and it sent goosebumps down your spine, “I’ll meet you at your place. Are your roommates here?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Your eyes closed, and you listened to Natsuo’s directions. His voice flowing from your voice and slowly ended with his own. Your eyes fluttered open to see yourself standing in your bathroom with your cellphone to your ear. Heat flooded your body, and you realized just how cold his body was.

“I’ll see you in twenty minutes,” he spoke sharply, and a smirk curled onto your face.

“Okay, daddy,” you accentuated.

You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his nostrils flare from the opposite end of the call, a dark look on his face. The line went dead, and an internal panic flared through your veins.

Twenty minutes to prepare, could you even manage that?!

You took the fastest five-minute shower in your life, nearly slipping against the slick bathtub while shaving your legs. Hopping out of the shower, you were quick to brush your teeth, putting product in your hair, and once you were done, you scrambled back to your room. Your hands throwing on the first set of lingerie you found, it was a navy blue teddy that had a deep plunge between your breasts. You hastily slid your sheer navy blue thigh highs up your legs, and just managed to slip your large t-shirt back over your head when there was a knock on your front door.

Looking into your mirror, you felt your chest tighten, your stomach filling with butterflies that left you feeling dizzy. It felt like an eternity when you walked to the front door, rising to the tip of your toes to see Natsuo standing outside of your door. His signature white with grey jacket over a dark grey tank that seemed just the perfect fit, you noticed black joggers on him too, and your teeth buried against your bottom lip, your heart beating erratically.

“Who is it?” you asked teasingly, watching the way Natsuo’s eyes snapped up, and you grinned at the way a coy smile stretched across his face.

“Open up and find out?”

“Mm,” you sigh, pressing a finger to your chin, “I don’t particularly want to find out.”

But nevertheless, your fingers found themselves on your doorknob, opening the wood door to see Natsuo standing there. His eyes were drinking in your face, and there was such a loving smile that emerged on his face.

“Hi, soulmate,” he whispered.

It was no different from the typical way he greeted you, but the simple addition of soulmate sent fire to your cheeks and stomach.

“Hi,” you whisper, stepping aside, letting him in.

He walked in, and you shut the door behind him, waiting for him to take off his shoes and remove his jacket, you stayed put. Your hands were behind your back, just waiting for him to look at you again. Your thoughts trailed to what was going to happen, would you two have sex? Would he grip your waist so tightly you would be left with purple bruises? Would he enjoy having you as a partner for the rest of his life? You licked your lips as your thoughts wandered.

When he was finally ready, Natsuo took a step towards you, knocking you from your internal turmoil and having you stare straight into his grey eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked you again, and like before, you didn’t answer him.

Reaching up, you brought him down for a kiss, but unlike before, the intentions were already known. The barriers and the restrictions between the two of you were gone, and you melted.

His hands gripped the back of your thighs while he took a confident stride forward, and you followed after him. Your lips were glued to his. Every divet, every line in his lips was smoothed out and memorized against yours. It made your head spin, this was your soulmate, he was yours.

Natsuo’s mouth dragged away from yours, moving downwards on your neck. His teeth bit and pulled at your sensitive skin until you were moaning his name. His hands were running up and down your curves, measuring them against him. A small gasp escaped your lips when your thigh rubbed against his clothed erection, and you shivered when his fingers traced the part of your skin where the thigh highs ended. Growling against your skin, Natsuo’s fingers pulled at the elastic and let it go. The fabric came back against your skin, and you whimpered loudly.

“Natsuo, don’t tease,” you muttered, your fingers pressing against the incredibly defined muscles that were hidden underneath his jacket. You wanted it off. But Natsuo didn’t seem to notice your needs, choosing to continue to press searing kisses against your neck.

“Address me by daddy,” he growled, his lips parting with your skin so that you could stare into his eyes. His gaze was ferocious, drowning, and near angry, but for some reason, it sent heat right to your core before he slammed his lips back against yours into a bruising kiss.

You could barely keep up with his moving lips, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when his hot tongue dragged against your lips.

Your hips weakly ground against his, and Natsuo met your needy hips until you were crying against his mouth, and his tongue invaded your mouth. Your fingers flew to his white hair, fisting the soft tendrils until he snarled. One moment you were on your feet and the next Natsuo’s hands cupped your ass and lifted you up.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you felt him walking towards your room.

Your tongue danced against his, your mind doing everything it could to not fall under his spell. To keep fighting, to make sure that this wasn’t going to be easy, no matter what he wanted to be called. Curling your tongue in his mouth, you could feel the shiver go down Natsuo’s spine, and you pulled your tongue back in your mouth.

“Where are you taking me, daddy?” you whisper against his lips, your hips now grinding down against the head of his hard boner. Delighting in the fact that his grip on your ass becomes bruising, your rolling hips don’t slow down.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, baby girl.”

A chill slammed down your spine at that nickname, and you bite down on his lower lip. His gaze met yours, his eyes flaring with an internal fire that only aided to the light between your thighs. Fuck, did you want this man.

The door opened and closed when Natsuo entered your room, and your tongue lapped at his lips.

His right hand left your ass, and you felt him fumble with the waistband of his joggers. You looked down to see his joggers and briefs fall, but had no time to admire the long and thick cock that sprung free from that restraint.

In what seemed like a perfect and fluid motion, Natsuo sat on your bed. He then shoved the panty of your teddy to the side.

“I don’t particularly like being teased, and last night was a lot,” he admitted, his fingers pressing between your already wet folds, and you cursed. Your hips ground against Natsuo’s fingers, and he grinned, seeing your reaction. “I think you deserved to be punished, don’t you think, baby girl?”

“No,” you breathlessly state, the feeling of his thick and cold fingers against your heated core formed goosebumps all over your body. “I think I’ve been perfectly well behaved, daddy.”

“I see we have a liar,” he chuckled, and before you could think of something to return with, his hands gripped your waist and sank you against his cock.

“FUCK!” you screamed at the feeling of his thick cock stretching you out in such a way that had your forehead slamming against his shoulder.

Your hips moved, trying to find a way to adjust to Natsuo’s girth that nearly sent tears to your eyes. You could feel the way his cock twitched within you, your tightness, and slick heat getting to him too while he whispered senseless praises into your ear. Your hips moved forward, both trying to relieve the pressure that demanded to be attended to and to bring the mindnumbing pleasure that your body begged for.

But Natsuo’s hands gripped onto your hips, keeping you against his girth. Your jaw dropped to complain, but his left hand lifted to press his fingers in your mouth, effectively silencing you. You gagged softly against his fingers, and you made a whining noise while his right arm wrapped around your waist.

His right fingers dug into your skin, most likely leaving behind purple bruises while his mouth trailed to your ears.

“You’ve been naughty, baby girl,” he sighed, his fingers pressed against your tongue, spreading out slowly when they traveled further back in your throat. Your breathing piqued, trying to remain calm while your throat attempted to constrict around his fingers. “Now, you’ll sit on my cock until I think you’re ready to be fucked.”

Your eyes fluttered when his fingers began to slide up and down your throat, your hips twitching in an attempt to get the friction you craved, and your inner walls ached around his softly throbbing cock. His finger curled in your throat, and your tongue lashed around his fingers, a desperate attempt to remain calm in this situation.

Forcibly, you clenched your inner walls around his cock, and he hissed out your name.

It felt like an eternity with his cock buried balls deep within you, your mouth trying to please Natsuo’s fingers while you resisted the urge to move.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you now,” Natsuo muttered and you felt an incredible wave of joy shoot through you, you wanted him to fuck you until your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, drool pouring from your mouth, and his name the only word you could utter.

Suddenly you were on your back, and Natsuo’s cock was no longer in you, nor were his fingers. You shuffled onto your elbows, but Natsuo’s hands grabbed the hem of your shirt and tore it over your head. Your chest rose and fell with your approaching excitement, and Natsuo’s eyes took in the lace teddy that you wore. It blended in with your skin with such refinement that you took in pride at the way his fingers trailed against the fabric.

“Like what you see, daddy?” you ask in almost a whisper, and Natsuo’s snap up to look into your hooded ones.

“You’re so beautiful, baby girl. So perfect,” he agrees, his fingers dragging upwards, moving against your sensitive breasts, making your body arch up into his touch. The stimulation of his cold fingers against your nipples in such thin clothing, along with those sweet affirming words, sent sparks of electricity throughout your body.

His fingers hooked under the straps of the teddy, and soon it was pulled off your body, joining the t-shirt somewhere in the room. It’s removal left you with nothing but the thigh highs, and by the looks of it, he liked that.

You couldn’t find words to tease him with because his finger trailed against your inner thigh, and you trembled at his touch.

Natsuo smirked down at you, placing a soft kiss against your cheek before continuing to kiss along your jawline, to your neck, and then down your sternum. “Tell me, baby girl, what do you want?” Between every word, he trailed further down until his mouth was nibbling at the skin between your thighs, ignoring where you wanted and needed him most.

“I want you to fuck me,” you panted when Natsuo pinched one of your nipples, rolling the hardened skin as his teeth bit against your thighs, making your chest arch up into his touch, and made your legs tremble. Your pussy clenched desperately at his ministrations, your aching clit begging to be touched.

“Do you deserve to cum?” Natsuo pulled away from your thigh with a pop. His fingers trailed back down your stomach, grazing your labia, chuckling at the way your hips twitched against him.

Natsuo slipped two fingers into your cunt, keeping them still inside you as he maintained eye contact. He watched as you writhed beneath him, your hips snapping to relax against the fullness his fingers gave you. Slowly your movements began to feel good; your actions, to feel good, soon became a desperate attempt fuck yourself against his fingers. Slowly Natsuo began to thrust them in and out of your aching core ignoring your throbbing clit that you couldn’t muster the energy to touch.

“Please, daddy,” your hands found themselves holding onto his forearm, fiercely trying to get him to do more with his fingers. “Fuck me good.”

Growling lowly, Natsuo arched his two fingers towards puffy inner walls, pressing down against it, and he watched your face contort in pleasure as a low whine left your lips. Natsuo grinned when he saw the way your eyes clenched closed, musical moans pouring from your lips when his fingertips brushed against your g-spot. Your jaw dropped, your hips taking over his finger fucking so that you were fucking yourself on his fingers. The clenching of your walls grew more and more, your toes curling with the impending orgasm approaching you, the build-up overwhelming.

“So needy, baby girl,” Natsuo suddenly removed his fingers from your heat, your whines and desperate cries ignored while you bucked your hips up towards him, desperate for a release. You watched as Natsuo examined your slick essence on his fingers before looking at you. “Suck it off the baby girl,” he said, putting his fingers between your mouth, and without a second thought, your mind is broken from the denied orgasm you opened your mouth and sucked your sweet essence from them as you writhed beneath him. The taste of yourself on your tongue drove you almost insane; you liked the taste intermingled with the taste of him. What would you have to do to get a taste of his cum with yours? “You’re not allowed to cum until I say you can, baby girl.”

Your mouth loosed against his fingers, and you whined at his instruction. Natsuo only shoved his fingers further down your throat and roughly fisted his cock, using his hand to glide it along your slit, gathering your juices along the tip with a low groan. He pressed the head inside your tight cunt, watching as your body reacted to the sensation. Your hips pushing forward, trying to get him to go deeper. Natsuo chuckled while he rubbed his cock along your slit again, teasing you, not giving you what you craved most.

“Tell me what you want me to do, baby girl,” Natuso mockingly asked, knowing exactly what you wanted. His fingers removed from your mouth, and you gasped with the needed breath, and when you were ready, you spoke.

“Fuck me, daddy, I need you to—” Natsuo’s fingers pressed against your clit, making you shrill in pleasure.

“Such naughty words,” Natsuo ran his fingertip over your clit, smirking when your tongue came out in a pathetic pant, trying to control your desperate and needy breathing. The action made Natsuo groan, immediately imagining how that would feel on other parts of his body. His restraint wavering when he pulled back, steadying himself between your legs before he slammed into your aching pussy without warning. The sensation of feeling completely full after being denied sent you soaring towards your release.

“Such a good girl,” Natsuo pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips, thrusting into your pussy as he watched your mouth fall open in pleasure. A constant slew of gibberish leaving your lips as you became lightheaded from the desire, and your arms wrapped around his shoulders to bring him closer. Natsuo’s cock fit inside you perfectly, the prominent veins on his length brushing against your inner walls were now moving, no longer stagnant, and only added to your pleasure. The tight feeling in the core of your stomach began to overwhelm you, the tip of his cock consistently pounding against your sweet spot, your climax threatening to wash over you. “Do you know how fucking gorgeous you are? These thigh highs are fucking driving me crazy… so pretty, so beautiful against your skin. It’s like you dressed this way on purpose, trying to get me to fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.

You whimpered while you shifted your arms around Natsuo’s neck, pulling his body flush against your own as he continued to rut into your tight heat. The angle at which his snapping hips were drilling into you had his pelvis rub against your clit, your legs tightening around his hips as his cock rubbed against your inner walls. You cried out his name, your clit throbbing at the sensation, your body stiffening as he moved faster.

“Who do you think you’re addressing?” Before you could attempt to respond, Natsuo’s right-hand leaves your hip and slams to your throat, choking the response from you. “I want to hear you correct your answer.”

His hand remains heavy and tight around your throat, his hold barely allowing oxygen to travel through to your lungs. Your vision fuzzed, and you could feel your heartbeat in your head, but your core shook with Natsuo’s now reciprocating and rhythmic slams.

“Y-You are, daddy,” you moan loudly, your thighs trembling with the feeling of his fingers around your throat.

Choking and clit stimulation with his cock pounding into your cervix, Natsuo chuckled into your skin. His thrusting hips were becoming more precise, angling into you in a way that made you audibly choke when you needed to gasp. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen to your body that was making you delirious, or perhaps it was the fact that he was slamming into you with the strength of rearranging your guts, but your hips began to swivel at an inhumane pace. Your cunt held a vice grip around his cock, yet it did nothing to slow Natsuo down, but the growing heated pit in your lower belly was making your legs tremble against his. Still, you tried to keep up with his rough and cruel pace, and Natsuo enjoyed knowing that detail.

“You’re fucking beautiful, baby girl. Your pretty little pussy is so fucking tight, I bet you’ve been saving yourself for me? Such a good girl, taking my cock like this, you’re fucking amazing.” He praises, his teeth biting down against your bottom lip. Your breathless moans slipping past your lips. “You enjoy being choked, baby girl?”

Your head nods, “Y-Yes, daddy!”

“Do you need to cum? Maybe I’ll allow it, your pussy has been so good.”

His hand against your throat tightened, and black dots littered your vision. His teeth sunk far into your skin, enough for you to feel your skin breaking as his tongue moving in cold strokes to calm your now throbbing skin. Then there were his nimble left fingers running against your clit and pressed delicate circles in time with his hammering and throbbing cock. But your swiveling hips held no value anymore, Natsuo’s hips snapped upwards fast enough and powerful enough to overcome and overwhelm you. The only thing you could tell was that along with the tip of his cock hitting your bruising walls, the sounds of your sopping wet pussy crashing against his forceful hips frantically rang in your ears.

Your bodies moved together entirely, his thrusts pushing you back further into the bed as he followed your movements. The bed frame hitting the wall with every harsh thrust, and your mattress springs creaking heavy in your ears. The noise of the headboard slamming against the wall was almost as loud as your moans of pleasure as your fingernails ripped into Natsuo’s shoulders, calling out his name in a mantra.

“I need to cum, daddy. P-please, let me cum—” Natsuo could feel your body shaking underneath him as your orgasm was so close after being built up and denied.

“Cum for me, y/n.” Natsuo groaned as your inner walls clenched around his length at his vulgar words, “cum all over my cock.”

Your eyes clamped closed, almost in synch. Your head nods, the heated pressure in your belly scorching. Your walls clamp down against his hammering cock, but it doesn’t slow him down, only encouraging him to increase his speed and strength until the bed shuddered against your weight. The sopping noises of your meeting sex filled your ears, and you moaned loudly, your teeth biting down onto your lip.

It takes his cock brushing against your g-spot for your legs to slam outwards, your arms nearly succeeding in choking Natsuo as you try sitting up as your orgasm slams through you.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” You scream hoarsely. Your scream only increases in great thrill when you feel Natsuo’s cock twitching unrestrainedly within you. But Natsuo ignores his own near, his hips continuing to drill into you, his hand clamping tighter against your neck, cutting off your voice.

Natsuo isn’t done yet, not yet.

His hands move to grip the exposed back of your thighs, his grip bruising your supple skin. He slams into you faster, his cock continuing unaffected by your convulsing walls. There are no other noises except your wet cunt meeting his cock, your muffled shrieks of approval, and Natsuo’s heavy breathing as he continues to drive into you. Your convulsing walls body only making Natsuo stammer and curse loudly.

His lips find yours, and there is nothing to say, the kiss is messy, saliva coating your lips like lipstick. Spit filled kisses were exchanged between the two of you without care, while he chases his orgasm. His intense pace continues, your name growled from your throat, until one last thrust and one final clamp from your cunt sends him over.

Natsuo soon collapsed on top of you, his typically colder body burning with an almost feverish heat while his fingers traced against the frill of your thigh highs.

“That was something,” you mumble into his ear, and Natsuo snorts softly, his head nodding in agreement.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he whispered, pushing off your body; his eyes examined your raw body.

“Nah,” you disagreed with a smile, your fingers brushing through the bangs of his hair. “If you did, I liked it.”

“Masochist,” he teased, his lips pressing against yours in a soft and tender kiss.

“I just might be, and if I am?”

“Then I think we’ll get along just fine, baby girl.”

“Okay, daddy.”

Soulmates weren’t perfect; you knew that more than anyone! But, while you lay there with his head against your chest. Hours after the two of you had cleaned up and gone for a few more rounds, you realized that this was what you wanted. You and your soulmate. That’s all that mattered when you were together, and things worked out.

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