#this took me almost a week because I just kept staring at my laptop screen for HOURS instead of getting the work done

[venelabins]

be not afraid

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [38] - The End

A.N: The last chapter! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful support throughout the story my loves, you're amazing! ❤️

Summary: The heir becomes the boss.

Word Count: 3537

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

The week after you almost died was chaotic, and not even for the reasons you had assumed earlier.

Needless to say, everyone in your life was out for blood, but the problem was that there was a specific lack of people to take revenge on.

“Do you think it’ll go back to how it used to be?” you asked Bucky as you turned your head to inspect your nose in the hallway mirror while he kept pacing in the living room, gritting his teeth while he typed something into his phone.

“We should kill every person who worked for Ian.”

“Because Sarah said it would go back to normal but it doesn’t feel like it.”

“I bet Ryan can give us a list, and—”

“Ryan already killed his inner circle that night.”

“There has to be some people left,” Bucky insisted and you heaved a sigh.

“Bucky, you can’t kill people just because they worked for Ian,” you said. “Most of them switched sides already—”

“That’s not enough, and once a traitor always a traitor.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way to him to stop his pacing, cupping his cheek. He took a deep breath, his blue eyes locked in yours as he clenched his jaw like he was trying to keep it together.

“Buck.”

“They hurt you.”

“Not really, the ones who hurt me are dead,” you said. “I killed one of them, Ryan killed the rest.”

“I need to do something,” he insisted through his teeth. “I…it’s bad enough that I let you get hurt—”

“You didn’t let me get hurt.”

“I was supposed to protect you,” he said. “Not…not you or Ryan.”

“I’ll let the next person who tries to kill me know about that.”

“Charm.”

“Bucky,” you said with a small laugh. “I’m fine. I promise.”

“Your nose is broken,” he reminded you. “There are stitches on your head.”

“Both of those things are temporary,” you assured him. “Seriously. Besides I…you know, it’ll be a good look for the sit down tomorrow night. I’ll look badass.”

He opened his mouth to argue but you both turned your heads when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” you called out and the front door opened before Ryan stepped into the apartment, his hands clasped behind him, his back completely straight in the perfect soldier pose.

“Ma’am,” he said. “Mr. Barnes.”

“Ryan, hi!” you said. “You’re back already?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said before stealing a look at Bucky and you waved a hand in the air.

“You can say whatever you want to say in front of Bucky.”

“When I asked to have the morning off, I took the liberty of visiting Mr. Ian’s warehouse,” Ryan said, making you tilt your head.

“He had a warehouse?”

“Yes ma’am. I wanted to make sure we have cleaned out everyone who might still support him or pose a threat to you, so…” he trailed off and pulled out a flash drive from his pocket, extending his hand. You took it from him, then heaved a sigh.

“Anyone we know?”

“I didn’t check what’s inside, ma’am,” he said. “The only reason why I didn’t say where I was going was because I wasn’t sure if there was anything inside that warehouse, but there was. We found it in the safe.”

“We?” Bucky repeated and Ryan nodded.

“One of my trusted men, sir, he can crack open any case.”

You pressed your lips together as you plugged the drive into your laptop, then clicked on the first file and let out a breath, staring at the screen.

“That fucker…” you murmured. “Ah. Well now it makes sense.”

“What?” Bucky asked and you licked your lips.

“Check out the name here.”

Bucky came closer to see the screen, then raised his brows.

“Should’ve known,” he muttered. “If there was going to be anyone HYDRA had its claws in, it’d be Ian.”

“I didn’t think he was this big of an idiot.”

“Did you know he was making deals with HYDRA?” Bucky asked Ryan who shook his head.

“No sir, I wasn’t allowed in most of the meetings. Mrs. Barnes saw it before.”

“Yeah, he kept him outside,” you said. “Figures. Oh, my dad will hate this.”

“Will you tell the others?”

You paused for a moment, then shook your head.

“No,” you said. “This stays in the family—that includes you as well, Ryan.”

Ryan bowed slightly. “Of course, ma’am.”

“Will you give us a moment please?” you asked him and he nodded, then walked out of the room. You turned to Bucky, tapping your fingertips on the kitchen island.

“This is how they had all those attacks on everyone’s territory—everyone’s but ours,” you told him. “That’s how Ian knew it wasn’t HYDRA, but us.”

“I guess he’s lucky you killed him already,” Bucky said. “This is betrayal. People would be racing each other to kill him.”

“Working with HYDRA though?” you insisted. “That doesn’t just mean betraying others, it means betraying the family. Forget the other bosses, my dad would kill him if he heard about this.”

Bucky grinned. “That argument should come in handy. This afternoon.”

You shook your head.

“I am not looking forward to that,” you murmured. “Especially with my aunt there.”

“She’s still here?”

“She’s leaving the city today, apparently,” you said. “I doubt she’ll go without giving me a piece of her mind first.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“No,” you said. “You have your own stuff for preparation for tomorrow, to—”

“Don’t worry about that,” he cut you off. “There won’t be anyone against you being there, we already know that.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to make sure.”

He nodded his head and came closer to carefully kiss you on the top of your head while you pocketed the flash drive, then looked up at him with a small grin.

“Seriously, how bad do I look?” you asked him and he let out a chuckle.

“You look breathtaking as usual, baby.”

“You’re such a liar,” you said with a small push to his arm and he caught your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m serious. Broken nose or not, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen my whole life.”

You could feel a smile curling your lips.

“And not fucking you until you get better will be torture,” Bucky added, making you scoff a laugh.

“So romantic.”

“Only for you,” he played along and slapped your butt. “Come on. We both have things to do, boss.”

“Aw I can get used to that,” you said, still grinning, then walked out of the apartment. Ryan was already waiting for you by the entrance, and straightened his back as soon as he saw you.

“Ma’am.”

“Let’s go pay a visit to my dear father,” you said and walked to the elevator with him following you.

                                               *

Your father had been furious when he saw you at the hospital, so much that you thought he would’ve killed Ian if you hadn’t.

Well, technically Bucky would kill Ian before him but…

So you knew he was going to be happy to see you but you weren’t so sure if the feeling was gonna last when he heard what you were going to say to him.

Your aunt was on her way out, loading her suitcases to the car when your car pulled over in front of the house and you heaved a sigh, then gritted your teeth. It wasn’t that you didn’t see this conversation coming, yet that did nothing to put you at ease.

“Here we go,” you murmured as the driver opened your door for you and you stepped out, your aunt gritting her teeth the moment she saw you.

“Auntie,” you said and she held up a hand, gesturing you to be silent.

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t call me that.”

“Is father inside?”

“You’re a monster,” she spat and you pursed your lips together.

“He was going to kill me,” you told her. “You know the rules, and so did he. Don’t blame me if he was too stupid to win.”

She eyed you up and down, making Ryan take a step closer but you motioned at him to stop.

“It’s fine Ryan, thank you,” you told him before your aunt let out a hysterical laugh.

“I see you surround yourself with traitors already.”

“Ryan is my right hand auntie, you need to respect him,” you told her, making Ryan give you a proud smile before his expression turned stony again upon turning to look at your aunt.

“I do hope you and Bucky have a son,” your aunt said through her teeth. “Because trust me, I will take him away from you.”

You managed to keep your expression completely calm despite the small shudder running down your spine.

“You can try,” you told her and she scoffed, then got into the car and slammed the door. You shook your head slightly, climbing the stairs to walk through the front door.

“I apologize on her behalf, Ryan,” you told him and he shook his head.

“Don’t, ma’am,” he said. “You have nothing to apologize for. She’s a mother, it’s normal that she’s angry at me.”

“Well if my mother were here, she would tear her apart for what her son tried to do,” you muttered as you stopped by the door to your father’s office. The men waiting there nodded at you and you knocked on the door, then peeked your head in.

“Dad?”

“Oh sweetheart, come in!” he said, standing up from his seat. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Good things I hope,” you muttered, letting him kiss your cheek before you sat down on the armchair across from his desk. He filled you a glass of whiskey and put it in front of you, then filled his glass as well and went behind his desk to sit down.

“Any word on that traitorous bastard?”

“Ethan?” you said. “Not yet but any day now. We know he’s not in Chicago, a couple of Bucky’s men are already waiting for him at his hometown and…” you trailed off. “It’s honestly just a matter of who will get him first, you or Bucky or Rhett.”

“Do they know not to kill him yet?”

You grinned. “Oh trust me. Both Bucky and Rhett have a lot of…creative ideas.”

“So do I,” your father murmured and you pulled out the flash drive from your pocket.

“Speaking of traitors,” you said, “You might want to know Ian was working with HYDRA.”

Your father stared at you for a couple of seconds in silence. “What?”

“That’s how they got in,” you said. “And that’s why our territory was never attacked and everyone else’s was.”

“Our territory was attacked.”

“Not by HYDRA.”

“We don’t—” he started, then raised his brows, heaving a deep sigh. “You.”

“Well Ian is dead now so it doesn’t really matter,” you said. “But yeah.”

“I asked you and you said no.”

“Can you blame me?” you asked. “I didn’t exactly have leverage yet, nor had I proven myself. I will use the names in the file to track them down, I figured you wouldn’t want anyone else to get involved, especially the other bosses.”

“You thought right,” he said. “Especially the sit down tomorrow…”

“That’s actually why I’m here,” you said, your heart beating in your ears and he pulled his brows together, then scoffed a laugh.

“Sweetheart, obviously I will name you my heir tomorrow.”

You took a sip of the whiskey, then heaved a sigh.

“Yeah I figured you’d say that,” you said. “That’s the problem.”

“The problem?”

“I didn’t almost die just so that you can name me your heir,” you said, looking him in the eye. “That’s not how it works. You know how cage fight works, I’ve been through worse. Being named heir is not going to be enough.”

He frowned at you as if he was confused before a look of realization dawned on his face and he leaned back on his seat, his eyes locked in yours.

“Is this a hostile takeover?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Doesn’t have to be hostile.”

A silence fell upon the room while he stared at you, then let out a breath.

“And you think you’re ready?”

“I know I am.”

“Just out of curiosity,” he said. “What would happen if I refused?”

“You can refuse,” you said, your voice completely calm. “But it’s not going to change anything. I have the support from other bosses, I have proven myself and your latest choice of heir fucked over everyone, which could backfire on you. So, I’m sitting at the head of that table tomorrow, whether you like it or not.”

An impressed smile curled his lips before he heaved a sigh, then stood up and opened up his arms.

“Come here,” he said, making you frown.

“If you’re planning on stabbing me father—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, come here,” he said and you got up from the armchair, then stepped into his embrace. He hugged you tight, then pressed a kiss on your hair and pulled back to look at you better.

“My little girl all grown up to threaten me,” he said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I mean I’d rather not, to be honest with you,” you muttered. “I’m just saying, there’s family and there’s business. I’m threatening the former boss right now, not my father.”

He hummed, still smiling softly.

“You have one thing right, you have proven yourself, over and over again,” he said. “Even before that bastard pulled a gun on you. I’m sorry for not seeing it sooner, Y/N. That right there was exactly what I was trying to protect you from.”

“Yeah, protecting me from business,” you said. “You should’ve known I wouldn’t have let him take it from me, dad. One of us was going to end up dead either way.”

That made him clench his jaw. “I didn’t think he’d have the guts to do that to you,” he said. “That will be on my conscience forever.”

“It shouldn’t,” you said. “I mean yeah you fucked up but you know, there’s no one who doesn’t take me seriously in the business after that whole fight. I doubt it’d have the same impact if you handed it to me, so…it’ll work in my favor.”

“Will you forgive me?”

“My father has nothing to worry about,” you told him. “And the former boss is paying for that mistake with me replacing him. Hostile takeover and all that.”

He let out a chuckle, then hugged you again.

“Perhaps I’ll buy another boat,” he said. “I should ask George what he does with all the time he has in retirement.”

A laugh escaped from you and you held up your hands. “Hey, if you want to be a cliché, I can’t stop you,” you said and checked your wristwatch. “I need to go and meet Bucky, we’re having lunch.”

“Alright,” he said. “Tell him I said hi.”

“Of course,” you said and kissed him on the cheek, then walked to the door before turning to look at him. “And thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not making this harder than it should be,” you told him and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Well,” he said. “You’re the head of the family business now. It’s your rules, the rest will follow your orders. Including the former boss.”

You let a smile curl your lips, then walked out of the office and passed through the hallway to step outside, your heels echoing on the marble floor.  

                                              *

There had been numerous sit downs at this place but this was the first one that you would attend as a boss, so needless to say you were way too impatient.

Ever since you had stepped a foot in your father’s house, you couldn’t stop tapping your foot. The guests were beginning to arrive one by one, and you desperately needed a drink but you knew you had to keep a completely clear head so you couldn’t exactly drink what the rest were drinking.

“Here,” Bucky said, touching the small of your back with one hand while giving you a glass of water with the other.

“Thank you,” you said and he pressed a kiss on your temple, making you frown and pull back. “Nope.”

“What?”

“This is a work meeting,” you told him, nodding at Clint and Natasha by the corner of the living room while Tony talked to your father and Bucky frowned.

“They already know we’re married, Charm.”

“Well we can’t be too lovey-dovey!” you whispered through your teeth and he chuckled.

“Babe, it’s going to be fine,” he said. “You’ll do great, I promise.”

“Right?” you felt the need to ask and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I love you, you know that right?” you asked and Bucky smirked.

“I love you too,” he said. “And you’re not going to war. It’s your first meeting as a boss, but it is still a meeting.”

You nodded your head, taking a huge sip of your water and turned your head when you heard the familiar chatter. Sarah and Becca walked into the living room, making your jaw drop.

“Hey,” Becca said as soon as she reached you. “Girl talk Buck, beat it.”

“Nice to see you too,” Bucky told her with a roll of his eyes, then turned to Sarah. “Hey.”

“Hi Bucky. Sam and Steve are in the hallway.”

“Great,” he said and walked away from you. You pulled Sarah into a hug, then pulled back to hug Becca.

“Oh my God,” you said. “What are you both doing here?”

“Well it’s your first day on the job,” Becca said. “You know, emotional support.”

“What she said,” Sarah said. “And I figured you’d be nervous, so…”

“I was,” you said with a smile. “Guys, you’re amazing.”

“I even brought a cactus,” Becca said. “Apparently that’s what people get people when they start jobs, who knew?”

“They usually get them flowers, Becca,” Sarah said and Becca waved a hand in the air.

“I haven't worked a day in my life in case you guys forgot,” she said. “Oh and Leila said ‘kick everyone’s ass’.”

“Tell her I said thank you,” you said and took a deep breath. “It’ll go well, right?”

“It’ll go great,” Sarah said, lifting your chin a bit to check your nose from the side. “It is healing nicely. The stitches too.”

“Thanks to my awesome doctor,” you said with a smile and Becca looked around.

“Your bitch of an aunt isn’t here then?”

“Nope,” you said. “She left earlier.”

“Without making a scene?” Sarah asked, disbelief apparent in her tone and you shook your head.

“Of course not,” you said. “She…she told me something.”

“What?”

“That she hopes Bucky and I have a son,” you said. “So that she can take him away from me, the same way I took Ian away from her.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and Becca raised a brow.

“Oh please,” she said. “She does know that when Bucky and you have a child, that child will be like, the most protected heir in the entire world, right?”

“I guess,” you said and Sarah frowned.

“You can’t let that get to you,” she said and you shook your head again.

“I’m not,” you said. “That’s not it.”

Becca pulled back slightly, then eyed the water glass in your hand.

“Please don’t tell me you’re pregnant,” she said, making your eyes widen.

“No!” you said. “No, I’m just not drinking because I’m trying to keep my head clear, it’s my first meeting with everyone else as a boss—no, I’m just worried I guess.”

“I agree with Becca,” Sarah said. “First of all, that child will be the most protected heir in the city, with your people and Bucky’s people. Second of all, who’s going to take your aunt seriously?”

“No one,” you admitted with a small laugh. “Yeah. Like I said, I’m just worried.”

“Don’t be—” Sarah started but you heard Ryan’s voice by the door.

“The meeting room is ready,” he said and everyone walked out of the living room one by one. Your father gave you a soft smile and you smiled at him back, then turned to Sarah and Becca.

“Wish me luck.”

“You got this,” Sarah said and Becca squeezed your hand.

“You were born for this,” she told you. “Go get ‘em tiger.”

You let out a breath, then made your way out of the living room to the meeting room before you stepped inside, your heart beating in your ears. Bucky was walking to his own seat and you brushed your hand against his as subtly as you could while you walked past him. He winked at you before sitting down as well, making you bite back a smile.

You got this.

Becca was right. You were born for this.

You took your seat at the head of the table, Ryan approaching to place a file in front of you and you cleared your throat, then lifted your head to look at everyone around the table.

“So,” you said, your voice completely calm. “Shall we begin?”

The End.

[nylaboon]

Fell in Love With a Girl — Cooper Day

"Fell in love with a girl / I fell in love once and almost completely / She's in love with the world / But sometimes these feelings can be so misleading"

— in which Cooper comes clean to you about his troubles with Emma.

cooper day x gn!reader

tags: swearing, second person pov, fluff, not proofread, kinda shitty in my opinion but i tried my best

"Cooper, what's taking so long?" You inquired, feeling more and more frustrated with the boy. He was supposed to be helping you with your missing assignments, but he got sidetracked by a notification from his laptop. He was so distracted that he spent about three minutes staring at the screen, literally frozen in place. It was annoying, and the worst thing was that it was the third time he had been distracted by it, which meant that your work was taking even longer to complete.

The only reason why you even had missing assignments was because you got sick the previous week.

Strep throat. Possibly one of the worst and best illnesses a person can get. You felt like shit most of the time, but the upside was that you wouldn't have to go to school until it cleared. You just happened to catch it from a guy in your math class; how that happened was a damn mystery. You kept your distance and moved as far away from him as possible every time he so little as parted his lips to speak, but you still caught it. As a result, you took a week off from school, which didn't seem too bad at first, but that was until Cooper gave you an update on everything that went down during the week you spent at home whining about your sore throat and chugging shitty medicine. And it was one hell of an update, for sure.

He soon shifted his focus away from the screen and quickly closed it. He covered his face and moaned as he stood up from his desk and returned to his bed to sit next to you again. "Sorry, sorry. What were we talking about?"

You close your workbook, using your pencil to bookmark the page, and place it beside you. "Numbers and shit. Who was that?"

"Who was who?" You should have known he would respond to your question with one of his own. He always did this, and it was infuriating. In his defense, though, he didn't have to tell you who he was talking to if he didn't want to, therefore he was justified. Irritating as fuck, but justified.

"Don't play dumb," you advised, rolling your eyes at his feigned confusion. "Who were you emailing just now?" Cooper shrugged and glanced around the room. "Why does it matter?"

"It must matter since you keep running back to your laptop every two minutes."

"Well, it's closed now, so you don't have to worry about it. Lucky you." Cooper was not an open person, and you knew it. Everyone knew it. That being said, his dismissive behavior wasn't unusual. He always bottled up his emotions since he didn't know how to express them without assuming he sounded stupid. Unfortunately for him, you were nosy and constantly pestered him when he didn't tell you something, so he usually caved.

"Are you hiding something from me?"

He gave you a puzzled, defensive expression. "What makes you think I'm hiding something from you?"

"You're not denying it." Your logic garnered you a sneer from him, but he chose to simply change the subject to avoid further conflict.

"The more you argue with me over this, the more time you're wasting." He wasn't necessarily wrong about that, either. Instead of pressuring him to talk about it, you picked up your workbook and got back to work. Around twenty minutes later, you left to go to the bathroom, but when you finished and headed back to Cooper's room, he was sitting at his desk. Again. Instead of announcing your presence, you silently closed his bedroom door and crept up behind him, skimming through his laptop screen. He was reading an email from a girl who said she "missed him" and had been "thinking about him all day". It was a tough read, but it offered a great opportunity to make fun of him.

"Who's Emma?" You finally spoke up with a sly grin. Cooper jumped and shut his laptop in less than a second. He gave you an annoyed glare before sweeping his curls out of his face and looking away. He stood up from his chair and attempted to distance himself from you out of embarrassment.

"A friend," he mumbled.

"That didn't sound like a friend," you retorted.

"Why are you so worried about it?" Instead of answering his question, you mocked him.

You grabbed his arm and began swinging it, annoying him even more. Truth be told, you weren't particularly pleased with what you had found, but you were trying your best to conceal your displeasure via exaggerated excitement techniques. You had a mini-crush on him for a while (at least that's what you called it to persuade yourself that you didn't want him and were just being irrational for a year straight), and it was relatively upsetting to learn that he was talking to some girl he never mentioned to you. "Aw, Cooper has a girlfriend!"

He let you swing his arm, although he didn't seem thrilled about it. "She's not my girlfriend." You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Okay, sure," you replied, not believing him in the slightest. "And I'm not failing algebra."

"No, seriously," he affirmed. "She's not. We just started talking, like, a week ago."

"And how did that happen?"

It took him a while to gather enough courage to answer that question. "...she called me sexy."

"...seriously? Just- just straight up?" Cooper nodded. You cringed a bit. "Is she in any of your classes?" You asked. Little did you know, you wouldn't be prepared for his response. "...she's a junior."

"She's a what?!"

"Hear me out—"

"No!" That was odd. Wasn't it odd? How often did a freshman and a junior get together? Not very. You couldn't even begin to articulate your concern. Where do you even start? There was a lot to unpack in those three words. "Do you not see the issue with that?"

He shrugged awkwardly. "Yeah, but she's hot, and I'm me. M'not really a chick magnet, so I kinda have to take what I can get."

"Take what you can get?" You repeated in astonishment. You had more to say, but he interrupted you before you had time to finish. "Plus, we already made out a lot, so I kinda dug myself into a hole." As if it couldn't get any worse...

Your eyes widened. The situation was almost unfathomable, and you could feel yourself about to explode out of anger. "Have you lost your mind?"

"I'm sixteen; what's the issue?" He asked in defense. You would've laughed at that lie if you weren't pissed off.

"You're fifteen, Cooper. Stop telling people that." For some unexplained reason, he kept lying about being a year older than he was. He'd been doing it since he was twelve, and it was actually pretty cute. And stupid.

"Well, I'm almost sixteen."

"Your birthday was two months ago."

"Still. That's basically a young adult."

"Not even!" He shook his head and sighed. "Why are we even talking about this?"

"I don't know," you replied. "Why are you dating a junior?" Cooper flung his head back, annoyed, before sitting on the edge of his bed. "We aren't dating, okay? And even if she was a freshman, I still wouldn't date her." That claim perplexed you. You stood in front of him, looking down at him with curiosity. "Why not?" You questioned.

He placed his elbow on his knee and let his chin rest in the palm of his hands. "Because she's not into me."

"But you just said she called you—"

"I know," he interjected. "You don't get it, though. She thinks I'm an idiot." He looked up at you for a minute, only to be met with your blank stare. "She's just using me to write shit for her."

"So, you don't like her; you just like being used?" You asked. He sneered at your cluelessness.

"I don't like being used. I just like the attention."

You sat down beside him, hands in your lap. You mumbled a soft "damn" and peered at the floor alongside him. "That fuckin' sucks."

"You don't say?" He replied sarcastically, leading you to nudge his shoulder. He sighed hopelessly and continued his rant. "I don't think I'm ever getting in a relationship at this point."

"Don't say that," you pleaded. "You never know."

"I do know, though," he argued. "I'm weird. I don't fit anyone's standards. Not that I even care for relationships, but—"

"You fit mine."

Your honesty seemed to catch him off guard for a moment. He paused for a few seconds before proceeding with the conversation. "That's not what I meant, y/n. You're just a friend."

"That's not what I meant, either." He gazed at you, his eyes conveying his uncertainty. "I didn't mean it in a friendly way."

Cooper stared at you, completely stumped. You grumbled and rolled your eyes before clarifying yourself for him. For someone so smart, he could be so naive. "You idiot—I like you. That's what I meant."

Despite your clear confession, you were anything but calm. You wanted to bash your head through his window because you had just made the entire conversation awkward. Awkward because he was staring at you, visibly uncomfortable. Or maybe he was just stunned. You had hoped he was just stunned. Regardless, the room was quiet, which was enough to drive you insane on the inside.

"...dude, why?" He eventually asked.

"Why what?"

"Why me?"

"Why not?" You shrugged with sass but kept your attention away from him. You would prefer to not see your best friend become uncomfortable in your presence. Being in his presence at that moment was enough to make you want to shoot yourself in the head. "You really do have shitty taste in guys," he taunted, hoping to lighten the mood for you. You let out a bitter scoff. "But on a serious note, I didn't think you thought of me like that..."

"You learn something new every day." He cracked a brief chuckle before going back to his serious demeanor. You, however, were not laughing. "I'd rather you over Emma, y'know."

"Is that really the compliment you think it is?" You asked softly.

"Depends on how you take it," he replied. "But I did like her at first, just so you know. Before I even knew what she was up to. So do you know what that means?" It meant that even if he liked Emma, he still would have preferred you. Suddenly, you didn't want a bullet in your skull anymore. "Oh," you muttered while trying your best to not smile too hard. "Cool, cool. That's, like, rad."

"That's it?" He complained. "Just 'rad'?"

"Obviously not," you denied. "I just don't know how to react appropriately."

"How would you react if you were alone?" He asked, to which you immediately responded.

"I'd scream."

He raised his eyebrows and grinned. "I guess that's fair. But do you know what I want to do?" You tilted your head to the side, urging him to continue. But he said nothing. Without wasting another second, he leaned into your proximity and connected your lips, as if he was testing the waters before diving in fully. The kiss was neither short nor too long. You eventually reciprocated, allowing your hands to drift to his face and grasp onto him. You didn't want him to pull away, but he did eventually. He took a breath and smiled nervously while backing away from you. Meanwhile, you were still trying to process his actions.

"…why'd you pull away?" You spoke up, giving him a fake look of disapproval. "I wasn't supposed to?"

"Did I say you could?" Cooper shook his head. "Exactly. So get back over here and kiss me before I throw a fit."

"As you wish."

written by @nylaboon

[pensat-i-fet]

Not important enough (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**Another request I got a couple of weeks ago that really intrigued me when I first read it and I finally got what I thought was the right idea for it. I hope you enjoy a bit of angst and fluff on this lovely Sunday afternoon ❤️**

Word count: 2753

Masterlist

Wattpad

Your eyes hurt from staring at the laptop’s screen for too long so you took your glasses off to massage the inner corner of your eyes, trying to relieve some of the pressure building near the bridge of your nose.

“Take a break”, said Rúben but you shook your head while keeping your eyes closed. “Come on, don’t be stubborn. You won’t be able to work properly while your eyes are teary from how tired they are”.

“Are you the doctor now?”

“Yes, it’s Dr Dias’ advice to take a break”.

You chuckled seeing his serious face. He was definitely not a doctor but he was right. So you got up and walked to the kitchen to make a cup of tea that could help you wake up a little.

“I could make it for you”, offered your boyfriend.

“I appreciate it but you never get the milk ratio right. And you always forget the honey”.

His pouty face made you laugh again and you got up on your tiptoes to peck his lips.

“I still love you despite your inability to make good tea”.

“It’s just you being too complicated”.

“I prefer high maintenance. Sounds more expensive”.

Even though Rúben couldn’t make tea, he was very good at getting your favourite biscuits so you could have them with your cuppa.

“Thank you. I can’t even remember when I last ate”.

“You’re working too hard”.

“Well, this project won’t finish itself, sadly. But it’s almost done. And then we enjoy showing it off to the world”.

Rúben moved closer to wrap his arms around your waist. “Everyone will see how smart you are and I’ll have to fight them all off. As if being pretty wasn’t enough for you. No, you had to be a genius too”.

Laughing at his joke, you turned to face him. “Well, when they see you by my side, they’ll know to keep their distance”.

“See me?”

“Yeah, you’re coming to the presentation, right?”

“Why would I? I’m not a doctor”.

“I’m not a football player and I go to your matches”, you said, removing his arms from around your body.

“It’s not the same, you understand football and can enjoy it. What am I supposed to do at that presentation? I won’t get anything you all say. I’m a dummy”, he tried to joke but you weren’t in the mood for jokes.

“It’s not about understanding it, Rúben. It’s about supporting me like I support you”.

Grabbing your cup, you went back to your desk. You were fuming but didn’t want to argue more. You were exhausted from all the hard work your boyfriend didn’t even care about.

“Of course I support you. I spent the last week worried about you working too much, trying to get you to take breaks, worried about your health…”.

“Sorry to be such an inconvenience to you”.

“That’s not what I meant. I like being worried”, he groaned, realising he just kept saying the wrong thing. “I don’t like being worried but I like looking after you. I don’t mind. I just…”.

“You look after me for weeks but can’t spend two hours sitting on some comfortable chairs listening to me talk about something I’ve worked on for months”.

“I told you, I won’t understand a thing so it’d be boring for me…”.

“Boring? You think I enjoy seeing 6-0 wins against Nottingham Forest?”

“You’re missing my point”.

“I’m not missing any points, Rúben. I see this very clearly. I'm not important enough for you to make a small effort”.

He flinched at your tone. You didn’t raise your voice but he could hear the hurt you felt in every word.

"It's like you only care about my career because it makes you look good".

“What? What does that even mean?”

"Every video you do, every interview is the same. Look at me. I'm so smart and I date someone smart. I'm not going out with bimbos like all the others".

“That’s not what I’m doing”.

“You might not notice but it is. It seems to me that you talk more about my career with others than you do with me”.

"Is that how you feel?"

"Yes, sometimes it is. Right now, for example".

“I never meant to make you feel like that”, he says, his voice so low you could barely hear him.

“Yeah, well…but thank you for giving me an excuse to not go to your matches. I also find them very boring. But I’ll make sure to tell everyone I’m dating a footballer just to show off”.

Rúben was hurt by your words but cared more about how he had been hurting you by doing something he wasn’t even aware of, so he just left you to keep working. When you were angry, you needed time to cool down. So he would give you time.

But by the time he was getting ready for bed, you were still working and he didn’t know what to do. Normally, he would try to get you to stop working so you could rest. But now he feared another argument happening so he didn’t say anything.

The following morning, Rúben woke up and found your side of the bed was empty and it looked like you hadn’t slept there. That really worried him. He knew you were capable of staying up all night working. You told him about all the times you did that in uni during exams.

But you weren’t working. You were asleep… on the sofa. He shook his head, noticing your bad posture. Now you’d be angry at him and in pain. Great.

“Wake up”, he said gently, caressing your face.

“No”.

“If you want to sleep, you need to go to bed. Your back will kill you later for sleeping here”.

You finally turned to face him and he noticed the way you looked at him. No longer angry, but still hurt.

“What do I need to do so you forgive me? Name it and I will”.

“Too late to pretend you care, Rúben”, you said, getting up and going to your bed.

He followed you, but when he saw you cover your head with the blankets, he let you rest. There will be time to talk later.

                                       **

Bernardo worried seeing how weird his friend was behaving since he got to the training centre. He didn’t push him around once, so there was something wrong for sure.

“What’s going on?”, he asked, sitting next to Rúben, who had been staring at his phone for a while.

“Huh?”

“You’re acting weird. Everything alright?”

“Sure, other than the fact that my girlfriend doesn’t even want to speak to me because I’m an idiot”.

“What did you do?”

“She’s been working on this huge project for months and has to do a presentation next week”, he said, and Bernardo kept nodding to show he was listening. “And she thought I would go to the presentation but I didn’t expect her to invite me. I mean, that’s for doctors and such. I’m not smart enough to be there. So she got angry at me for not supporting her”.

“She’s got a point”.

Rúben sighed. “I know she does. But that’s not the worst thing. She thinks I only care about her career because it makes me look good to date a doctor. But that’s not true”.

“So”, said Bernardo, looking at Rúben’s phone. “Your solution to that is buying flowers? Really?”

Rúben locked his phone, annoyed at his inability to fix this. “It’s a start. She likes flowers”.

“I think what you two need to do is talk”.

Rúben knew his friend was right but still bought a bouquet of flowers on his way home. It couldn’t hurt, right?

“Hello?”

No response. Maybe you were out. That’d actually be good because you need the fresh air.

“Hi”, you said, taking your laptop from the kitchen to go back to your desk.

“You don’t need to hide from me”.

“I need silence to work. And are those for me?”

“Yes, I just thought it could cheer you up to see some fresh flowers. I got your favourites”.

“Thanks”, you said, but barely looked at the bouquet and went back to your desk.

Rúben knew he should allow you all the time you needed to stop being angry but he had to leave in two hours.

“Please, let’s just talk and fix this. I have to leave and I don’t want to be away from you knowing you’re mad at me”.

“We can talk when you come back from the match”.

At least you wanted to talk. “Ok. I’ll leave the tickets under your name like always…”.

“Don’t bother. I’m not going”.

“What do you mean you’re not going?”

“Too boring. And I have work to do”.

“But you’re always at my matches supporting me”.

“Yes, I know. I wish the support went both ways instead of being so one-sided”.

With that, you closed the door and Rúben knew there was nothing he could do. So he picked up his things and left. He could drive around the city for a couple of hours and try to relax. But the guilt didn’t allow him to do it.

You hated arguments. Always had. But arguments with Rúben hurt even more. Still…you were right to be angry. You were only asking for two hours of his time when you had spent God knows how many at matches. Even travelling to other countries to support him.

But then you went to the kitchen and saw the flowers and felt terrible for being so harsh. You could feel the tears in your eyes while you got the vase and placed the flowers there. He was trying but just didn’t understand why he had hurt you so much.

Somehow, you managed to sleep for a couple of hours. And when you woke up, you headed to the shower to get ready for the day. There was a lot of work that needed to be done. And then there was Rúben.

Rúben also only slept for a couple of hours, which wasn’t ideal before a match. But he couldn’t stop thinking about your argument. And knowing you weren’t going to be there supporting him really showed him how painful it must have been for you to hear he wouldn’t attend your presentation.

The match was thankfully pretty uneventful. Otherwise, he would have been in trouble because he hadn’t been able to concentrate properly at all. His teammates must have noticed how silent he was but didn’t say anything. They knew he didn’t take it well when his performance was subpar so they just assumed that was what was bugging him.

“Hi. Can you drive me home?”, he turned when he heard your voice and found you standing awkwardly. “I called an Uber to come to the stadium so…can I go back home with you?”

He nodded, not believing you were there. “I thought you weren’t coming to the match”.

“I’m always here to support you, Rúben. No matter how badly you mess up”.

He finally had a reason to smile and the smile only got bigger when you hugged him. “I don’t deserve you”.

“Don’t say that. And I’m sorry I was so mean to you but you really hurt me”.

“I know”, he said, moving back to look at you. “I get it. And I’m sorry. I’d love to go to that presentation even if I don’t understand anything. I want to support you, always”.

“You don’t have to…”.

“But I do. And…yes, you were right about me showing off how smart you are. But it’s not to pretend to be better than others. It’s just because I can’t believe someone as smart as you would want to be with an idiot like me who only knows how to kick a ball”.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You also know how to head a ball”, you joked, making him laugh. “You aren’t stupid, Rúben. I would never date someone stupid. I've got high standards”.

“I feel very stupid now”.

“Wait until you go to the presentation, then”.

                                     **

After months of hard work, it was time to show it to the world and you were absolutely terrified.

"Why are you staring at yourself like that?", asked Rúben when he got inside the room and saw you standing in front of the mirror, only wearing a towel after your shower.

"I forgot everything I've ever learnt".

"No, you haven't. Did you take something for your anxiety?"

When you shook your head, he went back to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and then took one of your tablets from the nightstand. You thanked him and took the tablet, letting out a big sigh afterwards.

"Need anything else?"

"No, I just have to get dressed and do my hair and makeup. Nothing too fancy. I won't take long".

You grabbed the clothes and went to the bathroom. And just twenty minutes later, you came out and Rúben couldn't stop staring at you.

"You look so sexy".

"I'm not supposed to look sexy, Rúben. I'm supposed to look professional".

You went back to the mirror to see your outfit again. Was the skirt too short? Should you do the top button of the blouse too?

"You look professional. But also sexy because you just can't help it".

That made you chuckle. "Heels or flats?"

"Heels and that skirt…".

"Rúben, you're drooling".

"And that's just from imagining it. When I see you actually wearing them, I'll need CPR. Thank God I live with a doctor".

You rolled your eyes and found the earrings you wanted to wear before putting on your heels.

"See? You didn't faint".

"No, but is this normal?", he asked, grabbing your hand and putting it on his chest so you could notice how fast his heart was beating, which only made you roll your eyes again.

"Let's go or we'll be late".

Only five minutes into the presentation, Rúben realized how wrong he had been. Boring? This topic was fascinating!

He actually enjoyed listening to the physios whenever they chatted with each other about the player's injuries. Even if he didn't understand many words they said. But he made himself feel better thinking he probably knew them in Portuguese but not in English.

By the time you were done with the presentation, he was even more impressed by how smart you were. And you always played it down saying you just knew the same as every doctor but Rúben could hear other people whispering about how brilliant your presentation was so he knew that brain of yours was very special.

Everyone stood to applaud you and your colleagues but no one did as enthusiastically as Rúben. Actually, one of the men on his right looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"She's my girlfriend", he said, pointing at the stage.

The only boring part was having to wait for you by the car. So many people wanted to talk to you and congratulate you…but Rúben just wanted to get his girlfriend back.

"Finally!", you said, approaching the car and taking your shoes off.

"You were so brilliant!", said Rúben, lifting you in his arms and spinning you around. "Everyone talked about how good your research was. You should have heard them. And you looked so good too. My extremely smart and sexy doctor".

You were still laughing when he finally put you back down. "I take it wasn't boring then".

"Boring? I have so many questions. Let's get in the car and you can start answering them. That last bit about the muscle tissue blew my mind".

"I'm a bit tired of talking. Could we leave the questions for tomorrow?"

Rúben realized how exhausted you looked and nodded. "Sure, whenever you can and want".

You got into the car and closed your eyes, trying to calm down after such an intense event.

"But just one thing. That first procedure you explained, could it be applied to athletes too? I think our doctors would love to hear your presentation".

Opening your eyes, you turned your head to look at your boyfriend. And you couldn't help but smile at him and his excitement. "Do you want me to do the presentation again but for them?", you laughed.

"Only if I get to be there. I'll bring a notebook to take notes and everything".

"Don't worry. I heard you're sleeping with the professor, I'm sure she'll let you borrow her notes".

[bunting27]

A humble request for more Joseph Woll fluff! I would especially enjoy- "i'm sad and i demand cuddles." because university is kicking my ass at the moment and I just need a hug ❤️

bunting27's 100 follower celly !

a/n: this took so long, i hope university is no longer kicking your ass but here's joe hugs regardless

prompts: "i'm sad and i demand cuddles."

wc: 0.5k

taglist: @nylwnder @kenanlotus0 @whourfeyrac

✏︎

she was typing at her desk, hunched over in a way that would no doubt have her back sore for the next week, while joseph laid in their bed and scrolled away on his phone.

he would look at her every few minutes, staring hard enough in hopes that she would feel it and turn to pay mind to him, but she didn’t, too dialed into whatever project she was working on to notice.

eventually, he started moving around, letting out quiet sighs just to distract her or grab her attention for a second.

she noticed, but didn’t move her head, only asked “why are you breathing so aggressively, joe?” he almost laughed to himself, but figured she would be more easily convinced to leave her schoolwork if he kept it serious.

“just thinking about the game,” she furrowed her eyebrows, turning to look at him for a split second with a look of concern before moving right back to her computer screen and continuing to type away.

“there are five players in front of you for a reason, baby. quit beating yourself up,” he groaned, leaning his head back and dropping his phone on his chest dramatically, earning a small glare from her.

"i'm sad and i demand cuddles." she grinned, fingers paused, hovering above the keys of her laptop as she thought about it.

“this project is due wednesday, i’m almost done, give me like, an hour. okay?” at that, he shot up from the spot on the bed and gave her an offended look, lips parted and forehead creasing adorably

“it’s friday, baby,” she giggled, hearing the sheets ruffle around as he stood, coming over to her at her chair and lifting her out of it by the waist.

“i had good momentum going, shoot me for wanting to get my last class over with” he shook his head, dropping her down onto the bed and laying on top of her, ensuring that she wouldn’t be able to move to go back to her work.

“well now that momentum is gone so i think you should just stay right here and play with my hair. that’s the most logical step, in my opinion,” his voice was muffled from the way he had tucked his face away into her neck. 

she rolled her eyes at him, ruffling his hair and then starting to scratch his scalp softly. he hummed at the feeling, smiling contently now that he was getting the attention he deserved.

“you know i’m going to completely forget about that assignment and put it off until friday at, like, three in the morning, right?” he shrugged against her, wrapping his arms around her waist so he had her in a bear hug.

“we all make sacrifices for the greater good,” she scoffed, covering up her laugh before giving him a soft kiss on the head.

[jeanette-luminia]

Hey can you do a Larissa x femreader where reader insecurities get the best of her (age gap and how she looks maybe) and Larissa being stressed with work just push her more down to that hole and theres no happy ending...... sorry i just want to have a good cry

𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 || 𝑳𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑺𝑺𝑨 𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑴𝑺

a/n: I didn't expect requests to be quite overwhelming but I love it! I had fun writing this cuz I love angst, thank you anon. <3

“Doesn’t it feel weird?” your friend, Aera, said out of nowhere. Confused, you stopped drinking your coffee and tilted your head, pushing her to continue.

“I mean, Larissa’s older than you,” she said. You gripped your cup a little too hard as you kept still in your seat.

Don’t start this again.”

“I’m only stating my opinion.”

“Well, some opinions should be kept inside.” your anger was seeping, feeling your head boiling. “Y/N, she’s 43, you’re 24. Shouldn’t you be with someone who’s… I don’t know, a closer to your age?” she tried to reason.

“So what? I love her, and we’re both adults.”

“Jesus Christ, when was the last time she actually paid attention to you?” you stopped. People around you always talk about that feeling when they realize something big. When they froze. When they felt like time suddenly stopped. The feeling of your heart sinking. You were sure yourself you wouldn’t have to feel that. Everything was okay. You and Larissa are okay.

Yet you sit still, feeling your stomach drop, it almost made you sick. Everything around you was a blur. You felt your heartache, reaching your fingertips. Usually, you like the feeling of it while reading a sad book that made you sob. But at this moment, it hurts.

“S—she’s just busy.” You tremble.

“That’s bullshit. You’re forgetting that you’ve complained to me that your girlfriend hasn’t been giving you attention.”

You looked at Aera. “how much?”

“How much what?” she looked puzzled.

“How much have I been complaining?”

“...” she stared at you for a moment, before taking a deep breath. “At least every other day for weeks.” you bring your hand to your face, and you took a shaky breath as you feel an overwhelming emotion take over you. 

“Listen, I’m not saying this just because I want to ruin your relationship, because I know you love her so much and that you are happy with her. But for fuck sake know your worth.” She took your hand.

“You should be with someone who will be there when you need them. I understand that she’s busy but avoiding you isn’t the answer. You should be with someone who will make time for you and is younger than her. ”

You wipe the tear that has slipped, composing yourself. “I’ll talk to her.”

You walked along the corridor, the sun was setting, and the students has retreated to their own dorm rooms. You were sure Larissa was still on her desk. Seemingly enough, you were right.

You walked in quietly, wanting to get this over with as your heart pound like someone is playing the drums. Larissa didn’t even look up to see who entered, her eyes is glued to her laptop screen.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, love.”

“How many times will I tell you to knock before coming inside?” she briefly looked in your direction before going back to typing on her laptop. She was annoyed and her patient was running on thin ice.

You thought about backing away, letting this conversation be discussed at another time. But here you are, standing in front of her desk.

“We need to talk.”

She paused, looking up at you. You saw how annoyed she was, being disturbed by her work. It’s just like how your parents look at you.

“We can talk later, dear.” she pushed away.

You shook your head. “No. Let’s talk now.”

She sighed and massage the bridge of your nose. “What?”

You looked down, feeling an overwhelming anticipation rise up from your body. You took a deep breath before saying: “You haven’t paid attention to me.” you felt your anxiety rise, and words end up in a whisper at the end.

You heard her chuckle, and you heard your heart crack.

“Y/N, that's all you want to talk about?”

“Y–yes but-”

“I’ve been busy, my dear. Running an entire school with supernatural teenagers is harder than your job.” she gritted her teeth, holding her anger. She’d been stressed by the recent activities. Wednesday has been causing trouble all over town and Sheriff Galpin has been complaining none stop.

Her anger wasn’t towards you, she just has a lot going on right now.

You felt anger bubbling all over you. “Even so, you should take a break and maybe spend time with me.”

“Not everything is about you.”

“Oh really? Coming from the person who just said that running an entire school with supernatural teenagers is harder than my job.” You retorted. You had enough of her little act.

“You know what I mean.”

“No! I don’t get what you mean! Why is work more important to me? I understand that you are keeping the school working but you need a break as well and I—”

You jumped as she slammed her hand on her desk, flinching away as she rose from her seat. “You’re acting like a child Y/N! You need to grow up and realize that not everything is about you!”

You’re acting like a child Y/N. she thinks you’re just a child. Just like everyone thinks of you being in a relationship with her. 

You’re too young for her.

She’ll think you're a child.

She will have power over you.

She’s too old to be your partner.

Suddenly you feel tears in your eyes, your lips wobble in fear of her hurting you much more than she’s hurting you right now. You felt as if your heart was broken, broken into a million pieces. Maybe she wasn’t for you, you were just forcing it to work out.

Larissa paused, witnessing the damage she just caused. Your figure trembles as she towers over you. Your tears uncontrollably fall. You shield yourself against hers. She realized she became the monster she promised not to.

“Love, I–”

“Don't.”

She walked towards you, but you backed away. “You have no idea how much I’ve endured just to keep our relationship,” you said. “You have no idea how much I’ve heard people say how I should date people around my age. People say that I’m way too younger for you or you’re way too old for me. How you’ll think of me as a child.” you let everything out. The anger, the pain, the insecurities.

“I felt insecure about our relationship and you weren’t there for me! For us!” you cried, not caring about how loud you were being. “You’re always at work. I’m busy with work too but I make time for you. I wished that if I make time for you, you’d do the same.” you bring up a hand to cover your face. Your voice became hoarse and trembling.

“I guess I’m just a child.”

Her heart stung from the word she said. “No no no, you’re not a child, I was just stressed and was caught up with work.” she tried to reason out.

“Please love, I’m sorry I– I’ll make time for you. I promise. I’ll clear my schedule—”

“Too late.” she paused.

“... what?”

“Let’s end this Larissa,” you said, as you stared at her. “No please, Y/N. I’d do anything just don’t go—I’ll make time for you. Please love.” tears swell up in the corner of her eye. She wants you to stay. She needs you to stay. You were her home. The sole reason why she comes home.

“Goodbye Larissa.” You whispered, walking away from the distraught figure who is still trying to process everything.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m so sorry.” she cried out. Her knees gave in as she falls to the ground. As she heard the door close, she looked. You weren’t there anymore. You left her.

She cried that night, drinking a whole bottle of champagne. Burring her sorrow as she cried herself to sleep, hoping it was just a bad dream, and that you’d be there to comfort her when she wakes up.

You weren’t there anymore. She patted the empty side of her bed, realizing that you had left her. She cried that day, she couldn’t bring herself to go to work.

You were her last love. While she was just a love passing by, she was your second love. The love that hurts the most.

She watches you from afar. Dancing with your partner, in a beautiful white lacy dress and a veil on your hair. You were with the lover you deserve, the one who won’t be the reason she cries, the person who will make you happy, the person who will be there for you like she wished she was there.

Watches through the shadows. She brings her hand up to her neck, fidgeting with the necklace with a ring on.

It’s a bittersweet feeling, she still loves you. She never stopped loving you. She planned to propose to you after every workload she had. While trying to finish everything as early as possible, she ends up hurting you. Tears fell down her face, laughing at herself.

She would have been the one dancing with you right now.

© 𝐋𝐔𝐕-𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐃 - all rights reserved. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate. please ask me first then credit me once you shared my work to other platforms.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

My Hero

Fandom: Marvel, Spider-Man, The Amazing Spider-Man, Peter Parker

Word Count: 4535

TW: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lies, Explosion, Danger

“Peter! You have to watch this!” You pulled your best friend over to your laptop and hit play. “Can you believe it? Spider-Man took out six armed bank robbers and saved a group of hostages all by himself last night. Oh, oh! Watch this…. Bam! He stopped that guy right before he could harm that lady!” You looked up from the screen and turned to Peter. “Isn’t he amazing!”

But Peter didn’t seem to be as fascinated with the web-slinging superhero as you were. He kept glancing away from the screen and rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know, he’s okay, I guess. But can’t we do something else? I mean, I thought we were going to study for the chemistry final?”

You scoffed. “Like you need to study. You know more about that stuff than Professor Franklin does. And what’s so wrong about Spider-Man? He’s a hero! He’s saved this city more times than I can count. And have you seen the way he just swings through the city almost like he’s flying? God! It looks like so much fun!” When you noticed Peter’s still not really listening to you, you swatted him on the arm. “What’s your problem with him? You always change the subject when I bring him up.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Nothing, I just don’t, uh, keep up with him, that’s all.”

“How can you not keep up with this! Here, I have a bunch of videos saved of his top rescues, his most daring acts, and his coolest moments. One sec.”

You opened up your list of saved videos and felt the blood rush to your face immediately when the first three to pop up were all related to the hottest Spider-Man shots. You tried to play any other video as quickly as possible but ended up clicking on “Spider-Man’s Best ASSets” and the screen soon filled with quick shots of the hero’s backside in his tight costume. You slammed the lid shut on your computer as quickly as you could.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned to face Peter, expecting him to look just as embarrassed as you felt. Instead, he had a smug, almost cocky expression on his face. “So, that’s what you like about Spider-Man, huh?” He raised his eyebrows at you as he took a drink of his juice.

“No! That’s not….I mean…that’s not the only reason.”

Peter sputtered, inhaling half of his mouthful of drink which soon had him doubled over in a huge coughing fit. When he was able to compose himself, he stared at you wide-eyed. “Wait…. Are you serious?”

Keep reading “I mean, just because I admire him for his heroics and selfless acts doesn’t mean I can’t admire him for his more…physical attributes too.”

“Wait, so Gigs…. Do you have a crush on Spider-Man?”

You glanced down at the floor. “Maybe… just a little.” You quickly tried to elaborate. “But it’s like a celebrity crush! You know, the kind when you know, realistically, you’ll never meet the person or whatever but it’s just nice to imagine.”

Peter suddenly looked rather uncomfortable again and you sighed in frustration. “Oh, come on! You gush about your little crush on Gwen all the time, but I’m not allowed to talk about my crush on Spider-Man?”

He gave you a one shoulder shrug as he mumbled, “That’s different. Could we, uh, just maybe talk about something else?” He glanced at his watch and grimaced. “Actually, it’s getting late. I should probably be heading home.”

“What? But I thought you were staying for pizza tonight?”

“I want to…but I – my aunt needs me to, uh, help her tonight.”

You groaned loudly. “Peter, you’ve used that excuse every night for the past week! I get your aunt needs extra help around the house since your uncle died but come on! And every time I offer to go over and help you, you have a different excuse why I can’t! Do you… do you just not like hanging out with me anymore?”

“What? No, Giggles, of course not. I just… some stuffs been going on and I’ve been going through… changes lately that I’m trying to figure out. I’m sorry, I just need…I need some time. But it’s not you, I swear!”

You just stared blankly at him for a moment. “…. Is that a weird euphemism for puberty?”

“Yes! I mean, uh, yeah, that’s– that’s what I meant.”

You didn’t believe him for a second. For one thing, you and Peter had already navigated the worst of the strange and magical hell that was puberty a few years ago. His six-inch growth spurt in 10th grade was proof enough of that. Besides, you both had been surprisingly open with each other about stuff like that. And for another thing, after almost 13 years of friendship, you could tell when Peter was lying. And, boy, was he lying now. But if he felt this was something he had to deal with on his own, you had no choice but to respect that.

So, you just nodded softly at him. “Okay, but Peter… you know you can tell me anything, right? No matter what it is, I’m here for you.”

His face softened a little as he gave you a small smile. “I know, Gigs. And I’m always here for you.” Yet as he grabbed his skateboard and headed out of your room, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was still true.

Over the next week, you barely saw Peter outside of school. Every time you tried to make plans or just hang out, he came up with some excuse for why he couldn’t. You could feel your best friend slipping through your fingers and you still had no idea why.

And the worst part was, he was more than a best friend to you. Even though you had never said anything to him or tried to make a move out of the friend zone, you had been head-over-heels for Peter for years. What had initially started out as a genuine friendship between two little kids, had grown and developed right alongside them, until it was now at the point that it almost hurt how much you cared about him. But you knew you were nothing more than a friend to him. His constant rants about the perfect Gwen Stacy had made that abundantly clear. Yet you would prefer Peter in your life anyway you could get him to not at all, which was why his constant avoidance of you hurt so much.

But miraculously, the following Monday, you managed to convince him to walk with you to your favorite bodega to pick up some sandwiches.

Afterwards, as the two of you headed back to the subway, food in hand, you finally got up the courage to address the growing distance. “Peter, we need to talk about something.”

He glanced nervously at you. “Uh, sure, what’s up?”

“I don’t know what's been going on with you lately but something’s different. You’re pushing me away and I can’t figure out why. You keep saying it’s not me but how can I think it’s not when you barely talk to me anymore?”

“No, it has nothing to do with– Gigs, I– I mean, I can’t–” Suddenly, he stopped, his eyes growing wide, and he tackled you to the ground.

Seconds later, the building halfway down the block exploded. Rubble and dust rained down, but Peter’s body above you blocked most of the debris. You looked up at him with wide eyes, vaguely wondering in the back of your mind how he knew to push you down, but you were more focused on the chaos around you. People were screaming and running, but you saw a few bodies closer to the explosion lying motionless on the ground. Horrified, you scrambled to your feet, tightly grabbing onto Peter’s hand.

“Go!” He yelled above the noise, “Go!”

You took off running, Peter close on your heels, hand still firmly locked in yours. A second explosion sounded and a fresh wave of people pushed past you. In the commotion, your hand was wrenched from Peter’s. Desperately looking around, you couldn’t spot him anywhere. Even screaming his name at the top of your lungs did nothing to help locate your best friend. You tried your best to hang back, scanning the crowd for him until you were one of the last people still upright in this part of the street.

Suddenly, a third explosion sounded from directly above you. Looking up, you watched in horror as a large chunk of the building you were standing next to came hurtling down at you. All you had time to do was squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself for your inevitable fate.

But just before you were crushed, you felt something slam into your side, sweeping you off your feet. An arm wrapped protectively around your waist, and you opened your eyes to stare into the familiar mask you had seen on in videos for the past six months.

“Hold on, I got you.” Spider-Man said. You glanced down and for the first time noticed you were soaring high above the street. Frantically, you wrapped your arms and legs around your savior and held on for dear life. You could feel him chuckling under your grasp, even as the sound was lost behind the wind and his mask.

Finally, once he was a safe distance away, he lowered you both to the ground. As he set you down, you collapsed to the sidewalk as your legs turned to jelly. He bent down next to you, carefully cupping your cheek in his covered hand as he examined your face. “Hey, hey, are you okay?”

“You-you’re Spider-Man. And you just– you saved my life. Oh my God! Than-thank you!”

“Yeah, don’t mention it. Now, are you alright?” He turned your face to meet his orb-like lenses in his mask. His voice seemed oddly familiar though muffled and slightly distorted through the fabric covering his mouth, and, for some reason, it put you at ease instantly.

“I’m fine, thanks to you.”

He nodded. “Good. Now, you’ll be safe here until someone can come check on you, but I have to go stop whoever’s behind this. I need you to stay right in this spot, okay? Can you promise me that?”

“Yes, I mean, sure.” You were still a little shaken from the previous ordeal and slightly starstruck from meeting your hero, but you grabbed his arm just as he was about to leap into the air. “Wait! My friend. He was right next to me, then I turned around and he was gone. Please, you have to make sure he’s safe. I can’t – I – Please, don’t let anything happen to him.”

Even though you couldn’t see the eyes behind the mask, you could feel his eyes boring into you. “I promise, your friend will be fine. Now, stay here.” And with that, he was gone.

You sat on the curb for almost an hour, somewhat in shock, as you waited for any news about Peter. An emergency worker came over to see if you needed help, but you waved him off, muttering, “I promised I would stay right here.” After a few minutes of trying to coax you to get checked out, he finally left to help someone who actually wanted the assistance.

Finally, you saw a familiar, lanky form rushing towards you. He was limping almost imperceptibly, and he had a large bruise on his face, but besides that, Peter looked perfectly fine. When he saw you sitting alone, he sped up, only giving you just enough time to stand up before he was crushing you in his arms.

“Hey, are you okay?” He released you just enough so that he could look you over.

But you tore yourself from his embrace, tears building up in the corners of your eyes. “Where the hell were you?”

“I was– I tried to go find help. I thought…I-I figured you would be safe where you were.”

“I turned around and I couldn’t find you! I was all alone, and I was so scared!”

“Aw, Giggles, it’s alright. You’re okay.”

Peter tried reaching out to pull you into another hug, but you jerked away from him, tears now streaming down your face. “I wasn’t scared for me, you idiot! I didn’t see you and I was so scared something happened to you! Now it turns out you just ran away and left me there! What the hell, Parker!”

He looked stunned as he tried to find any words that could explain his actions, but of course, there were none. “I didn’t– I mean, no of course– well, I did but not– you don’t understand!”

“You’re damn right I don’t!” He tried to gently touch your arm, but once again you yanked it from his grasp. “No! Don’t touch me! Peter, I needed you and you left me there. If Spider-Man hadn’t shown up….. We always promised to have each other’s backs and when I needed you most……Just stay away from me.” You rushed past him and hurried down the street. And even over the commotion and noise, you could still hear him calling after you. But you didn’t hesitate as you rounded the corner and disappeared from his sight.

The next 36 hours go by in a blur. When you got home and explained to your parents what happened, they demanded you go to the emergency room to get checked out even though you insisted you were fine. And five hours later, you were headed back home with a piece of paper proving that fact. Thankfully, your mom let you skip school the next day, so you slept in until well past noon.

When you woke up, your phone was full of texts and missed calls from Peter, but you ignored them all. And when he stopped by after school to see how you were doing, your mom sent him away per your instructions. You hadn’t told her exactly what happened with him, but she trusted you enough to listen to your request without explanation.

The news was saying that some lunatic had set off the explosions as a diversion to rob a medical facility a few blocks over. Once Spider-Man had rescued as many people as possible at your location, he had swung over and nabbed the guy before he could get away. You spent the whole afternoon devouring any and all news coverage, cell phone footage, and firsthand reports you could find. You even caught a few glimpses of Spider-Man rescuing you seconds before the building fell on you. But that part was a little harder to watch.

However, that was this afternoon and now it was night. You were laying on the roof of your apartment building staring up at the stars. You and Peter had built a little lean-to up here a few years ago where you stored a few blankets and pillows for just such an activity. However, it felt strange being up here without your best friend. Or former best friend. Or whatever he was now.

Suddenly, you heard a thud nearby, followed by a slightly muffled, “Hi there.”

Sitting up quickly, your eyes grew wide in astonishment as you stared at the person who had just landed next to you. “Sp-Spider-Man! Hi! I mean, wh-what are you doing here?”

“I just happened to be swinging by and saw you up here all by yourself. I recognized you from yesterday and wanted to see how you were doing.”

You felt heat rising in your face as you stammered, “Y-you remembered m-me?”

“Sure. You made quite the impression.”

“Really? I’m sorry, I just can’t believe it! I love you!” The heat in your face grew more intense. “I mean, I don’t…not like that, but, I-I just think you are amazing! The things you do for the people of this city! You’re a hero!”

Now it was Spider-Man’s turn to seem flustered. “Well, I mean, kinda I guess, but…Hey, uh, did you ever find your friend?”

The wild grin instantly fell from your face. “Yeah. He was perfectly fine.”

“Oh…Well, it doesn’t sound like you are. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No………………Peter has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. We’ve done everything together, shared everything together. I can’t even remember the last time he used my real name! It’s always been my dorky nickname he gave me when we were 8. He’s my person, or at least….I thought he was.” You looked sadly down at the gravelly roof beneath your feet.

“Lately, he’s been pulling away from me and then yesterday he left me on my own when I needed him most. He means so much to me, he means everything to me, but I just…” You glanced up to see Spider-Man watching you with his unblinking eyes and you were instantly mortified. You whirled around so your back was to him as you tried to wipe away the tears forming in your eyes. “I am so sorry! I’m sure you’re incredibly busy and you don’t need to be listening to some stupid teenager’s drama.”

“Aw, Gigs, it’s alright. You’re okay.”

You froze, tears instantly drying up before they can fall. Only one person in the world called you Gigs or Giggles, and that phrase was exactly what he had said to you yesterday. Slowly, you turned around to face the masked hero and in a voice that wasn’t much more than a whisper, you asked, “Peter?”

You watched him tense up as he realized his mistake. “What? No. I’m, uh, not…No! I don’t even…know any Peters. Maybe, ah, Peter……Pan. Th-that’s a Peter, but not, not me!”

“Peter.” You said again with a little more force, slowly stalking towards him.

“Ha, well, uh, I think it’s about time for me to, um, be swinging away now. Lots of…. crime to stop and, uh, such– such things.”

You stopped directly in front of him, glaring furiously up at his covered face. And before he could stop you, you reached up and tore the mask from his head, revealing the anxious face of your best friend. A million emotions flowed through you at once and you weren’t sure how to react, but as soon as he smiled sheepishly at you and muttered a small, “H-hi, Gigs.” it set you off.

“Are you shitting me right now! That’s all you have to say for yourself! You’ve been lying to me for months, if not longer!” You turned and stormed off to the other side of the roof still ranting the entire way. “Like really Peter, how could you not tell me! You’ve been Spider-Man this whole time and you didn’t say anything! Even when I would show you videos or photos, you just sat there and let me go on like an idiot, while the whole time it was you under the mask!”

You opened your mouth to scream some more when a realization hit you. You froze in place and all the anger instantly left your body. Turning slowly to face him, you whispered, “And… you saved me. You saved me yesterday and all I did was accuse you of abandoning me.”

“Gigs, I would never have left you if I didn’t think it was the best way to keep you safe. I swear, if I didn’t think I could protect you there, I would have immediately swung you away. I don’t care who would have found out who I am. I never meant for you to think I didn’t care about you, or I didn’t have your back. Because I do…. I always do.”

“Peter,” you weren’t even sure how to put how you were feeling into words. “I’m so sorry. I should never have doubted you. Of course, you wouldn’t have just left me there. I should have known that. And I’m sorry I got mad just now. It would have been nice if you had felt like you could trust me with your secret, but, honestly, I get why you didn’t.”

“No,” Peter took a few steps in your direction, closing the gap slightly between you. “I trust you with my life! I was just afraid if you knew, it might put you in danger. And I would do anything to keep that from happening, even if it meant you losing your faith in me.”

Chuckling softly, you shook your head as you looked at the ground. “I feel like such an idiot. As many times as I watched all those videos and news coverage, I never realized it was you behind the mask. Though, leave it to me to get a crush on two guys just for them to turn out to be the same guy.”

Peter’s face shifted, his mouth hanging open slightly and his brow furrowing as he stared at you. “Get a crush on two… but…”

The slow realization of what you had just said creeped over you and you buried your face in your hands. “Oh my God. Peter, I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean…you weren’t supposed to find out… especially like this. Just forget I said anything.” You turned your back on him again, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. “Please, don’t let this change anything between us. You’re my best friend and I don’t want to lose you and that’s why I neve-”

Mid-sentence, you hear a whip and something sticky grabbed at your hip. Before you could react, you were twirled around as the sticky substance yanked you backwards. You collided with Peter, ending up nestled snugly in his surprisingly muscular arms. As you stared up into his eyes, he reached up a hand and wrapped it around the back of your neck, pulling you in closer to him as he crashed his mouth into yours. For a moment you allowed yourself to fall into him, savoring the feeling of his lips on yours.

But then, you pulled back, breathless and confused. “But what– Peter, I don’t understa–”

“Just shut up. I’ve wanted to do this for way too long.” And then his mouth was on yours once again. This time, you don’t fight it. Instead, you leaned into the kiss just as furiously as he did. As his hands grasped your face, yours threaded through his tousled hair as you let out a small moan of pleasure. You had been dreaming of this moment for so long, you could scarcely believe it was really happening.

Far sooner than you would have liked, the two of you broke apart, each struggling to catch your breath. As Peter rested his head against yours, he muttered, “I should have done that years ago.”

Nudging his nose with yours, you asked, “So, why didn’t you?”

“I– I didn’t think you felt the same way.”

“Yeah, neither did I. Especially since you’ve been talking about Gwen so much lately.”

“Are you kidding me? I’ve had a crush on you since we met! I only started thinking about Gwen because I figured I’d never have a chance with you. But it’s always been you, Gigs. Always.”

You leaned forward and once again captured his lips with yours. This time, the kiss was not as heated, but more tender, drawn out. It was unlike any kiss you had ever had before, and you couldn’t get enough. Because it was Peter. And no one else would ever make you feel the way he did. Especially now that you knew the truth.

As you pulled away from the kiss, you whispered. “Peter, I want you to know, this doesn’t change anything. I meant what I said before. You are a hero. You’ve done so much for so many people, and I am so proud of you.”

He ran his thumb across your cheek. “Gigs, I only know how to be a hero because you showed me how. You’re the one who taught me to be brave and strong and stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves. Ever since that day in kindergarten when you pushed Flash down on the playground and told him to stop picking on me, you’ve been my hero.”

Your face grew warm as you listened to his words. “Peter, that was nothing.”

“No, Giggles, it was everything.”

“Well, I guess we'll just have one pretty heroic relationship then, huh.”

Now it was Peter’s turn to flush slightly as he ran his hand nervously through his hair. “So, yeah, about that… What does this mean for us, uh, now? Should-should I ask you out? On like a date? Are we still just, um,….friends? Something more?”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Peter, we’ve been practically dating since we were five. We spend every free moment together, we’ve experienced all of life’s ups and downs with one another, and we know everything there is to know about each other. Let’s not ruin that by trying to force the awkward beginning of the relationship stuff.” You thought for a minute then said, “How about this….we both admit to liking each other for years, so why don’t we just make tonight our one-year anniversary?”

He scoffed softly. “You can’t just retroactively decide we were a couple for the past year.”

“Why not? Besides kissing and…other such things… tell me one thing couples do that we haven’t done for each other this past year? We go to movies, hang out, buy each other gifts, talk or text constantly when we’re not together, support each other through the bad times. That sounds like a relationship to me.”

“Damn,” Peter muttered. “I guess you’re right. We’ve been dating and not even realizing it.”

“Told you! So, if we’ve been going out for the last year, what was our first date?”

He thought for a moment before a wide smile stretched across his face. “When we went to that horrible scary movie, and you spent the whole thing with your face buried in my shoulder.”

“And you wrapped your arms around me and whispered that you would protect me.” You nodded with your own smile. “I like it. It’s the perfect first date.”

“So, then, what was our second date?”

You don’t even hesitate. “When we went to Coney Island and rode rides all day until you puked.”

“Of course, you would pick that.” Peter chuckled. “But then on the subway home, you let me lay my head in your lap while you stroked my hair and told me you had me. I was so mad when we reached our stop and we had to leave.”

“Well, it sounds like we’ve had some pretty romantic dates.”

“Yeah, it does. And I still can’t believe I never noticed until now,” he said, staring deeply into your eyes. “So, if this is supposed to be our one-year anniversary, how are we celebrating?”

“Well….I’ve always wanted to see the city from above.” You slung your arms around Peter’s neck as you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Pulling his mask back over his face, you whispered, “Show me what you got, Spider-Man.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I.R.L.📷2

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, voyeurism/exhibitionism, slight stalking, masturbation, naughty talk.

This is dark!(camboy!)Andy Barber. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your guilty pleasures becomes and all too real terror.

Note: Okay, here’s the second and last part of this short little piece. Thanks for reading and the excitement. I’m sorry if I’m a bit blegh rn.

Thank you so much for your patience! And support!!

As always, if you are so inclined, please like, reblog, and comment. <3

Andy stared at the chat. He waited and waited but the green dot didn’t pop up. Maybe she was freaked out after meeting him. Or maybe she was over him. Her name hadn’t blipped up in any of his sessions in the last week and he even invited her to an impromptu private show after he got back from the café. He hoped her seeing him might nudge her but it only seemed to scare the fuck out of her.

He recalled how she nearly fell on her face running away from him. That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. No preening or smiles, just terror and a quick escape. He didn’t understand. He was a good looking guy and she was obviously lonely. Hell, she was cute too. He was hardly disappointed.

He waited another fifteen minutes, distracting himself with the colour matching game on his phone but her status remained inactive. He scrolled through his bookmarks and clicked on her insta profile. She had commented on some DIY tutorials in the last hour but hadn’t posted. She only ever added pictures of flowers anyway; her last photo of herself was from a year ago. It was her and some guy but he could guess they were no longer together.

He was starting to get upset. She was ignoring him. He wasn’t stupid but what had he done? Their sessions were going well up until this week and he actually looked forward to them. He felt that same thrill he had when he first started his hustle.

He slammed his laptop shut and dropped his phone face down. Fuck it, he had better stuff to do.

He crossed the room and grabbed one of the boxes still stacked against the wall. He hauled it over to the empty bookshelf and flipped it open. He unpacked the books one at a time and the heavy bookend shaped like half a globe. He didn’t know why he brought all these things, he didn’t use them. He wasn’t a lawyer anymore.

He leaned against the side of the sofa and crossed his arms. He boxed up his whole life, or what was left of it, and drove halfway across the country. She couldn’t even give him a hello or her name. She could hardly look at him and she wouldn’t answer his goddamn messages.

He pushed himself straight and stormed over to his laptop. He ripped it open and clicked on the chat. Still, nothing. The invitation was scheduled for less than an hour. Well, if she wasn’t going to open it, he’d have to get it to her another way. He was done waiting on her and he was done playing with her through a screen.

He wanted the real thing and he knew she wanted it too.

📷

You were still slightly addled from your encounter at the café. After you got home and unpacked your groceries, you didn’t find your coffee again until it went cold. You dumped it and replaced it with a glass of wine. You bought the bottle a month ago, expecting to unwind and that time finally came.

You sat with the healthy dose of alcohol, almost to the brim as it darkened the full belly of the glass. You wore only a baggy Winnie the Pooh tee and panties as you lounged and flipped on the tv. 

You rarely used the front room anymore, ever since your boyfriend moved out you spent most of your time in the bedroom, exhausted and lonely. It was easier to just linger there between responsibilities.

Your dainty sips turned to greedy slurps as you turned on an episode of Project Runway and lost yourself in the competition and drama of it all. Your ex hated that show and you hadn’t watched it in years. It was time to get caught up with what would forever be your unfulfilled dream of being a designer.

By the runway, your glass was empty and the television had a soft glare as you were slightly buzzed by the high potency. The dark blend had a percentage in the double digits and you were feeling it, delightfully so. As the designers came up for their feedback from judges, more so a roast, you leaned back and wiggled your hips as you stretched. You yawned and closed your eyes as you listened to a designer give cutting critique of a hem.

You peeked under your lashes as the camera panned in on the fraying stitches. Well, it looked alright from far away. You bent your arm under your head as you turned onto your side and your eyes closed again as you pondered another glass of wine. That might give you a decent night’s sleep.

You inhaled and sat up, intent on another indulgence but you stopped short as you blinked in shock. You hadn’t drank that much. You couldn’t be hallucinating. You pressed yourself to the back of the couch and shook your head as you gaped at the figure stood just beside the tv, eyes calmly watching you.

“What…” you gulped.

“Shhhh,” the man, the one you watched all those nights on your laptop, brought his finger to his lips as he hushed you, “it’s okay, honey.”

“I--” your heart leapt into your throat and you stood as you swiped up your glass, “get out. How did--”

“I sent you an invitation. Several this week. You haven’t answered--”

You hit the glass off the table so it cracked and left a jagged edge. You jabbed it out at him from the other side of the coffee table, your hand shaking as the shock turned to a jolt of adrenaline.

“Go! Get out!” you snapped, too terrified to think on how he found you or if your meeting that day was truly a coincidence. It didn’t seem like it, “you’re crazy, get out of my--”

He marched around the table as you backed up and swung the glass at him. He caught your wrist and twisted it as he wrenched you close to him and pointed the sharp edge at your throat. The scent of him filled your lungs and mingled with the taste of wine as the glass pressed to your skin.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he warned, “so don’t make me.”

“Please--”

He said your name, calmly, as you drowned in his oceanic eyes. You quivered in his grasp and tensed as you tried to lean away from him, “Andy,” he offered, “that’s my real name.”

“Please, I don’t know what you want--”

“You know exactly what I want,” he hissed as he pulled away the glass and tossed it to shatter against the wall, “the same thing I always wanted… that you want.”

You took a deep breath and he clapped his hand over your mouth and tutted. His brows wrinkled in irritation and your drunken fingers bounced futilely off his shoulder. He turned you and sat you down on the couch and knelt with you, shushing you again as he settled on his knees on the floor.

“Honey, aren’t you tired of this? Of being apart? Of just… watching?” his eyes strayed from yours and he smiled as he eyed the yellow bear on your shirt, “that’s cute.”

You shook your head and murmured against his hand. His lashes flicked up and his jaw squared. His lips thinned as he considered you.

“Thing is, honey, I’d love to talk but you gotta promise not to scream,” he said, “and I mean that because I don’t want to gag you… not yet, anyway.”

Your eyes rounded and you nodded fervently as your breath puffed under his palm. He narrowed his eyes and shifted his hand slightly, moving it just an inch at a time as he watched you. You sniffled as he let his grip fall to your knee.

“Why? How…” you stuttered, “it was a mistake. Just a show--”

“You were always there,” he said as his other hand came up to your other knee and he ran his hands up and down your legs, “it didn’t sound like a mistake.” He pushed his fingers along the top of your thighs, “you enjoyed it.”

“It wasn’t… like that, just…”

He squeezed your thighs painfully and you winced. His fingers crawled up under the hem of your tee to the elastic of your panties and he hooked them beneath the fabric. You grasped his wrists in shock at his sudden movement and he looked you in the face.

“Say whatever you want, make your excuses,” he snarled, “you said you wanted me, you said it a dozen times, and I know you do.”

He tore down the cotton and you flailed out and caught yourself against the back of the couch. He rolled your panties down and untangled them from your ankles as you tried to close your legs. He kept your panties around his wrist as he stopped your knees from meeting and moved between them.

“Honey, now, I think we’ve had enough build up--”

“Hel--” you screamed and he grabbed your chin and snapped your mouth shut so that you bit your tongue.

He growled and shook your panties down over his hand. He brought up the twisted fabric and shoved it into your mouth. You tried to turn away from his grip as he stuffed the panties in with two fingers as deep as they would go and you almost gagged.

“It’s too bad,” he said, “I wanted to try that mouth… next time.”

You batted at his arms and chest and his hand shot to your throat. You stilled as he choked you, just enough for lungs to burn. He kept his hand on your neck until you sat back and he let it trail down the front of your shirt. He groped you through the fabric, rolling his thumb around your nipples as they hardened.

“I know you can be good, honey,” he hummed, “you’re just… nervous. I know what it’s like, trying to get over someone else. Trying to move on from a life you built-- a break-up, right? That lanky guy on your Insta--”

You gave a terrified flutter of your lashes and he smiled, a tight-lipped sympathetic gesture.

“Look, we’re two lonely people,” he kneaded your chest as he spoke and leaned in, “so, it only makes sense, and I promise, honey, the shows are over. It’s all for you now.”

You trembled as he dropped his hands and pulled up your shirt. He tickled your stomach with his knuckles and framed your tits with his hands as he admired them. You squirmed as he flicked them with his thumbs and leaned into you. He took one in his mouth and suckled. You whimpered as you felt a pluck in your core.

He parted with a pop and licked his lips, “I never… it was always hard to think of what you’d look like but I couldn’t picture anyone so perfect.”

Your nails dug into the couch cushions as you tried not to flinch. The glimmer of delight turned to disgust as you watched this stranger fondle you and he sealed his lips around your other nipple. You bit down on the cotton and moaned. You were so pathetic. It was your stupid moments of lonely desperation that brought you to this, that brought him to you.

His large hands spread along your sides and he pressed his fingertips into you sharply as he toyed with your nipples. He grazed his teeth along each bud and pulled back to look at you again. You grasped his shoulders as you begged him with your eyes and shook your head.

“I… always wanted to do this in the bedroom,” he said, “that’s where you usually are, huh? Touching yourself for me all alone in the dark--”

You hung your head in defeat and he pulled you forward on the cushion. He lifted you onto your feet and spun you around in the space between him and the couch. He put one hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck and walked you around the sofa. He paced slowly behind you as he urged you down the hall and paused to peer through your bedroom door.

“Here we are,” he said as he angled you through the door. You reached up as your jaw ached around the wad of fabric and he caught your hand and yanked it down, “I didn’t say you could do that.”

You dropped your arm and he let you go. He pressed his body to your back as he nudged you closer to the bed and stopped you right before it. He bunched your shirt in his hands and tugged it up until you raised your arms. He swiped it over your head and let it crumple beside your feet.

“Go on, sit nice and pretty for me,” he tapped your ass lightly.

Naked, you shivered as you stepped away from him and got onto the bed. You turned as you bent your legs over the edge and lowered your chin. You hugged yourself as he stood watching you with his hands on his belt.

“Don’t you worry, it’s still a show,” he said as his hands slid over to his buckle. 

He winked and ran his fingers up the front of his jacket and pulled it off. He draped it over the folding stool by your bookshelf and bent each leg to tug off his shoes. His socks followed shortly after and he squared his shoulders before he scooped his shirt up and off. He returned to his buckle and tilted his head at you.

“Look at me, honey,” he said as you stared at the pile of clothing, “we both know you love to watch.”

You raised your eyes to him and clamped your hands around your shoulders, arms crossed over your chest. He grinned and unbuckled his belt, his zipper gliding down smoothly beneath his fingers.

“You got me hard as fuck,” he said, “I didn’t like that earlier, you know? The way you ran from me.”

You just sat and tried to swallow the hopeless acceptance. He pushed down his pants and stepped out of them, his arousal bulging against his boxers. Your fingernails cut into your skin as you curled your fingers.

“You’ve been so good to me, honey,” he continued as he rolled down his boxers, “you know, I only want to return the favour. I came all this way just to get close so that--” he paused as his dick sprang up before him and he kicked away his underwear, “I can take care of you now.”

He gripped himself and stroked his length with a hum. His stomach tensed and the lines of his muscles deepened as he groaned and played with himself as he would before the camera. You were mortified as you watched him helplessly and he got closer and closer.

“Now you get the live show, honey,” he reached out and took your hand, closing it around his dick as he guided it up and down.

He moaned and hung his head back as he used both your hands on his shaft. He shuddered and leaned into your grasp. You listened to his pants as they grew quicker and quicker and he stopped you abruptly. You looked down at the glistening pre-cum as it leaked from his tip and he trailed his thumb through it as he let you go.

You flinched as he moved towards you suddenly and grabbed your hips. He lifted you and dropped you onto your back. He took your ankles and placed them against his shoulders as he stretched your legs up his torso. His cock slid along your cunt and hovered over your folds.

“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” he bit his lips and looked between your legs as he let go of one leg and reached down to guide himself between your lips, “oh, honey, your so sexy.”

He pushed apart your cunt with two fingers and slid in between his knuckles. He gasped as you stretched around him and you pushed your head back and whined around the fabric in your mouth. You whimpered as he drew back just a little and pushed in deeper. He rocked his hips, getting further each time as your walls strained around him.

He tilted you against him so that he reached his limit and slid his thumb along your bud. He swirled around your clit as he carried a slow motion, gliding in and out of you as you slicked around him. The tingle of his touch crept like tendrils beneath your flesh and made you clench around his dick.

He groaned and sped up, just a little as he played with you, pressing more firmly on your clit until your hand shot down over his. You didn’t move him away, only gripped his wrist as he toyed with you, fucking you deliberately as the sensation melded into a maelstrom. The twisting spring inside of you compressed and released suddenly in a ripple of sheer delight.

You groaned and bent your legs against him, raising your pelvis higher so he dipped even deeper. Your eyes rolled back and you ripped the panties from your mouth in your ecstatic trance. You balled them in your hand and writhed on his dick. 

He grasped your hips and dragged your ass over the edge of the bed and rammed into you. You cried out and he did it again. It was as if he lost all control as his pelvis slapped against you loudly and his voice rumbled through the room. You gulped and gasped as he pressed the heel of his hand to your clit and rubbed harder, his fingers stabbing sharply against your flesh.

His other hand snaked up to pinch your nipple and cup your tit. He braced you as he bent over you and fucked you furiously. He stepped up onto the edge of the bed frame as he curled your body beneath his and brought both his hands up beside your head as he held himself over you.

He plunged down into you over and over and he huffed as he watched the joining of your bodies. He growled and pulled out of you suddenly, bending your legs up as you were contorted further. He grabbed your hand again and trapped it around his dick, moving it quickly as he muttered.

He came in thick ropes onto your chest and down the folds of your stomach as you were in almost a C beneath him, his knees around your thighs. You shook and lifted his chin as he snarled and kept your hand moving, still cumming over you. He tore your grasp from him as he grew over sensitive and hung his head as he quivered.

“Shit,” he swore as he backed off of you and stood, leaning on the bed to steady himself. Your legs fell over the edge and his cum cooled across your skin, “you look good like that, honey.”

He stepped closer and pushed his fingers through the mess. You shivered and stopped his hand as you slowly returned to reality. You lifted yourself on one elbow and batted your lashes in confusion.

“How did you even find me?” you uttered.

“Doesn’t matter how,” he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to sit up gruffly, “only that I did.”

[jkstompers]

passing notes | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: a year of crushing and jungkook’s finally asked you out on a proper date. 

genre: classmates to lovers??!, established friendship, they go on a date <3, jk is so stressed out, !fancy restaurant warning!, jk is A GENTLEMAN!! but wbk, oc is a nerd but is BOLD AF!!

warnings: mature!! (18+!!), SMUT,...they make out, LOTS of built up tension is let out tonite!, fingering, praise kink, handjob, backseat action, semi-public sex?? very strong language, jk overuses the nickname ‘baby’

word count: 9k

author’s note: pt. 3 of seatmate!jk. WE’VE GOT SOME FILTH TODAY PPL!!!!!!! this is my first time releasing a piece of writing that has smut in it so pls!! let me know what u think!!! i’m open to criticism but i cry easily so… pls pls be nice (Ｔ▽Ｔ) LMAO!! i also completely made up the program for ocean scientists that oc talks about LMAO i just needed her to ramble for a bit hahahah

additional note: also pls imagine jungkook looking like this in class and then wearing this for their date. also if ur curious, this is what i imagined oc’s dress to look like :)

okay enjoy!! thank u ( ˘ ³˘)

it was the end of the semester and of course, the only time jungkook would be running late to class was when he was finally going to ask you out on a date. so far, everything seems to be going against the idea. his alarm didn’t go off on time, the shower took way too long to warm up, and his car was low on gas. now he’s speed walking, almost running, to lecture to make sure that his seat next to you isn’t taken. 

he wants to make sure this goes perfectly. he spent the past two weeks stressing over the plans. asking for recommendations for nice restaurants in the city in almost every group chat he was in. his friend (the one with parents as ceo’s, eunwoo), helped him and got him a reservation at this one five star restaurant that jungkook’s never been to. eunwoo told him that it was the prettiest place he’s ever been to, said it would be perfect for a first date. 

jungkook specifically remembers you telling him that you’ve never gone on an actual dinner date. ice cream dates, movie theater dates, and amusement park dates were what you were used to. there was nothing wrong with that, it’s just that you’ve never experienced a candlelit dinner at a restaurant, that’s it. jungkook just wanted to be the first one to experience it with you. 

so when his morning starts off this shitty, he wonders if his plans are falling apart. he tries to keep a good, positive mindset, but he’s already so nervous and the universe seems to be telling him: don’t do it, she’ll reject you, you’re gonna look stupid in front of her. 

meanwhile, you’re early this lecture. it was the last class of the semester and you were hoping that you could get a nice conversation with jungkook in before it started. the two of you have gotten a lot closer since you last hung out. the chain of events starting with you apologizing for being so embarrassing, 

[12:44 pm] you: jungkook!!! oh my god i am so sorry for last night 😭

[12:45 pm] you: i don’t take alcohol very well 😖

[12:50 pm] jungkook: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

[12:50 pm] jungkook: no need to apologize! are u feeling sick? hungover? 

[12:52 pm] you: omg no not really

[12:52 pm] you: ur a great drinking buddy, i owe u one 🥺

[12:53 pm] jungkook: it’s alright cutie

[12:54 pm] jungkook: just happy ur feeling okay :) 

[12:56 pm] you: let me make it up to u 😭 i’ll buy us lunch one of these days? 

[12:57 pm] jungkook: ah no can do cutie 

[12:57 pm] jungkook: have to buy u dinner first 

the thought of the conversation makes you smile. that one conversation starting the domino effect of the two of you talking almost everyday for the past two weeks. you couldn’t help but expect jungkook to at least be here, but if he didn’t wanna come, then he didn’t have to. 

you sat in your seat, patiently waiting for the one next to you to be filled by him. the hall was starting to fill now and class was about to start. you look around one last time to see that jungkook is still nowhere to be seen, and that a familiar brown-haired guy was beginning to walk up to you. 

“hello, ___! is this seat taken?” taehyung smiles brightly, you look down at the seat next to you. your bag saving the spot for jungkook. maybe he skipped this lecture, since it was practically for nothing anyway, you’ve already taken the final and there was no other material to learn, it was more so to wrap things up and see if anyone still needed to understand something. 

your brain comes to a conclusion. you remove your bag and say, “no, go ahead,” to taehyung with a small smile on your face, one that hides the disappointment riddling your mind. 

it’s about five minutes after the professor starts talking when jungkook finally walks in. he looks up to try and find you as he walks up the steps of the auditorium. his eyes land on you and taehyung, chatting amongst yourselves. he can’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy, that’s his seat. even though there were no assigned seats, the place next to you was always his, that’s just how it was, and seeing someone else sitting there, especially taehyung, makes jungkook’s green monster pop out. 

you feel a presence step behind you while you were talking to taehyung, and before you know it, jungkook is sitting in the seat next to taehyung. “oh! good morning, jungkook!” you’re smiling to him. he doesn’t grant you one of his regular vocal responses, rather he gives you a tight-lipped grin before he leans back into his chair and focuses on whatever the professor was saying. 

maybe he was jealous. witnessing you and taehyung having a wonderful conversation, one that makes you smile and laugh like he does. you didn’t even notice him when he came up the stairs, only greeting him when he sat down. no, he was definitely jealous. 

you’re stealing glances his way, pretending to be interested in whatever taehyung is talking about. he’s wearing the most boyfriend-est outfit in the world. a white long sleeve with grey sweatpants, his long hair tied up in a ponytail. you’re unconsciously biting your lip as you stare at him, he’s just so cool. he’s not even doing much other than looking straight forward. but this angle lets you see his sharp jawline and his side profile perfectly. 

you felt bad, one hundred percent. you should have told taehyung that the seat was taken, because now he was talking your ear off and you didn’t mind it, but you wanted someone else to be talking your ear off and it was the guy sitting next to him. 

when taehyung changes his focus to your professor talking about a summer he had in paris. you steal another glance at jungkook. you catch him staring at you, your eyes meet. he doesn’t keep the connection, cutting it off by moving his head and looking straight ahead. his jaw clenches, arms coming over and across his chest. he seems angry, you pick up on the energy now. an idea pops in your head to try and make him feel better. reaching into your bag to find one of your index cards, writing a message on it. 

feeling okay? 

you scoot your chair back a bit, pretending to stretch as you tap jungkook’s shoulder. he turns his head to you, eyebrows raised. you hand him the paper. he stares at first, eyes flickering between you and the paper. reluctantly, he takes it, unfolding his crossed arms to receive the note. you scoot back into your seat and lean into the table, lowering your chin onto the desk. 

jungkook tries to hide his smile as he reads your little note. how could he ever stay mad at you? it wasn’t your fault he was late. so he replies, his black ink has a stark contrast against your green highlighter. he can already feel his bad mood brightening. 

yeah, didn’t save me a seat? :( 

this time he folds the note, handing it to taehyung and telling him to pass it to you. “really? you’re passing notes? we’re in college, jeon.” taehyung snickers as he slides the paper towards you. 

you let a small laugh, reading the note. taehyung’s scolding continues as you write your response on the index card. you changed your green highlighter out with a blue pen. 

i came super early :( waited 20 mins for u </3 but i didn’t think u were coming so i let taehyung sit here 

you send it back and watch jungkook’s somewhat straight face contort into a smile. there it is, the smile that you know and love. 

jungkook on the other hand could cry. you came early. you waited for him. god, had he royally fucked this up. he makes his mind up now. 

i’m sorry :( let me make it up to u? can i take you out on a date tonight? 

check: ◯  yes ◯ no 

jungkook keeps the paper for a good minute, reading the note over and over again, thinking about how childish this way of asking is. but at the same time, jungkook knows that if he talks to you about it after class, he’ll gloss over the words and never ask you. letting the reservation and plans he made weeks ago render themselves useless. it was now or never. 

so he fully sends it, tapping your shoulder and giving it to you directly. you open the note and scan the words, sending him the sweetest look he’s ever received in his life. he thinks that would be a yes. he hopes. you write something onto the card and pass it back to him, your hand grazing his for a second. 

⚫ yes :) ♡ ◯ no 

the rest of the class passes pretty quickly. not that you were paying any attention. jungkook had emailed you a link to a game that the two of you could play, a weird version of snakes. jungkook kept cheating, you swore it, but in all honesty, you knew you couldn’t compete when it came to jungkook and his computer games. a clap from the professor breaks your attention from your screen, “alright, that was the last class of anatomy 101!” he then goes on a two minute long speech thanking the entire class for their great work this past year. he ends his ment with, “good luck and make good decisions! have a fun summer!” 

you take your time packing your things, a little too long for someone that just has a laptop to put into their bag. taehyung says goodbye to the both of you and leaves first, the seat in between you both empty. now it was just the two of you. a small blush creeps onto your cheeks. you were well past your high school crush phase, but jungkook makes you feel so shy again. 

you try to hide it by speaking first, “so, a date?” 

he sends you that award winning smile that makes you swoon. “yeah, did you change your mind?” 

you shake your head. “is it casual? fancy? want me to wear a dress again?” you tease, finally pushing your computer into your bag and standing. 

jungkook gulps. you looked so pretty that night in a dress. “fancy,” he answers, “you can wear a dress if you want, pantsuits are cool too— whatever you want.” he finishes packing as well, standing next to you as you both begin to walk down the stairs. 

“okay then,” you smile. “what time should i be ready?” 

“i’ll come and pick you up at seven, is that okay?” he replies, hand in his pockets. you both make your way out of the room and start to move towards the parking lot. 

“sounds good,” you nod, approaching your car. jungkook walks you to your door, his eyes focused on your sweet smile and your eyes. if jungkook didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were leaning closer towards him. a small laugh leaves your throat. “see you later, kookie.” 

he sends you a smile, the nickname tugging at his heartstrings. the realization hits him after you’ve already driven away and he’s sitting in the driver seat of his car. an embarrassing blush covers his face, he takes a deep breath and laughs to himself. finally. a year of crushing and he’s finally asked you on a proper date. 

jungkook is quite frankly, freaking the fuck out. he isn’t sure what to wear and his hair isn’t working with him. the long strands seemingly out to make his life a living hell when he tries to style it. one strand always looks out of place, or the way that it parts doesn’t sit right. he’s pacing his bathroom, debating if he should just shower again and take all the stupid fucking product out of his hair. 

he gives in after ten minutes of deliberation. a quick shower removing all the wax and gel from his hair. the ends of his hair dripping when he goes to check his phone, the time reading: 6:45. he was gonna be late to pick you up. now he’s full on panicking. he has no other choice then to skip the hair product all together and just let his hair dry and part on it’s own. he slides on his all black fancy outfit he had planned out just in case the first one didn’t work out. he steps out of his apartment after grabbing his car keys, wallet, and the flowers he bought earlier in the day for you. 

a friend of his works in a flower shop. jungkook remembers you saying  that you like all flowers and that you couldn’t choose if you had to. so his friend asked what you were like, trying to figure out a way to style the bouquet without knowing your favorites. jungkook said the general things; you’re sweet like an apple, probably sweeter, like candy. you’re so pretty, it’s blessing that he’s able to lay his eyes upon you. you’re smart, too smart for him to flirt stupidly like he always does, ‘cause you outsmart him and flirt with him back in a wittier way. you’re— that was enough information, his friend told him he was babbling again. jungkook only had to wait ten minutes for his friend to finish fixing up a beautiful bouquet for you. 

the bouquet is placed on the passenger seat as he starts his car, texting you when he realizes it’s almost five minutes until 7. 

[6:54 pm] jungkook: fuck 

[6:54 pm] jungkook: i’m gonna be a little late

[6:55 pm] jungkook: i swear i’m not standing u up

[6:55 pm] jungkook: ok i’m putting my phone down to drive to u now, sorry cutie!! 

[6:57 pm] you: ah okay! 

[6:57 pm] you: i was getting a little worried haha

[6:58 pm] you: see u in a bit <3

jungkook drives safely, but efficiently to your apartment. the drive only taking about five minutes because the stop lights were gracing him with green lights his entire way to you. he parks right in front, grabbing the flowers and hopping out of the car. when he knocks on your door, he starts to feel his nerves work against him. the adrenaline from rushing here gave him enough energy to hype himself up, but now as he’s standing here at your door, waiting for you to answer, his throat starts to dry and his hands start to sweat. 

the metal door slides open, revealing you. in your silk dress, draping over your body in the most flattering way. the neckline deliciously hangs down to reveal your cleavage ever so slightly and the slit on the dress, displaying your thigh teasingly. jungkook is speechless at his first glance at you. his eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open, catching himself drooling once you step out from your apartment. 

“h— hi, you look— wow,” he stumbles over his words, taking a step back to admire you once again. “you’re fucking stunning.”  

you brush your hair back behind your ear, your hand covering the blush covering your cheeks. “thank you, you look very handsome, jungkook.” you reach out and play with his black tie. he looks down when you do, remembering that he was holding a bouquet of flowers for you. 

he holds them out, “these are for you.” like a kid giving his crush a dandelion he picked from the grass. 

“these are gorgeous, jungkook! thank you.” you look up to him with your signature sweet eyes, the ones that never fail to make him melt. “just give me one sec, i’ll put these down and then we can go?” you ask, holding onto the bouquet and waiting for him to respond. a quick nod is all you need to open your door and place them in the fridge. you come out a few seconds later, locking your door and standing by jungkook again. 

“that was fast,” he comments. he holds his arm out for you to hold, which you gratefully take. 

“i just put them in the fridge, my grandma showed me the trick, it helps them live a little longer,” you explain. the two of you walking out to his parked car. he never lets your hand touch the handle, always opening the door for you. 

“when they die, i’ll just buy you new ones.” closing the door for you and making his way to the drivers seat. 

you scrunch your nose. when he comes back and joins you in the car, you voice your worry. “it’s kind of a waste, don’t you think?” 

he shakes his head, “if it’s for you, nothing’s a waste.” 

jungkook was a professional with his words. always rendering you speechless. 

with that he starts the car and begins driving into the busier part of seoul. he makes his way into the restaurants parking garage, the building looks to be about five stories. the architecture itself looks expensive, you wonder where jungkook is taking you tonight. he parks the car, turning off the engine, and moving to open the door for you. he takes your hand and you hold onto your dress, fixing it once you get out of the car. god, you’re so pretty. he was so nervous. 

“ready, my lady?” he smiles, his arm out for you to hold. 

it makes you laugh, a snort almost. “i’ve never seen you so proper, mr. jeon.” 

“only for you,” he winks. your heels click against the concrete floor as he leads the two of you into the building. the high ceilings and multiple chandeliers are what greet you first, the brightness of the place giving the sun something to rival. jungkook brings you over to the waiting area, telling you to wait for a minute as he checks you guys in. 

this was crazy to say the least. the last time you went on a date, it was to the movie theaters. you’ve never been in a place like this; a doorman greeting every guest as they walk in, checking in to eat, multi-story, etc. the more you look around, the cooler it is. “let’s go?” jungkook’s voice makes you turn your head. you stand, taking his hand. 

the two of you follow a man wearing a black and white suit, with a long tail jacket. he brings you to the elevators, holding the doors open for you both. you step in and he presses the fifth button, which was the top floor. you squeeze jungkook’s hand. he repeats the action, looking to you and silently asking if you were okay with the look in his eyes and the raise of his eyebrows. you nod, a smile on your face. 

with that the elevator doors open, the metal doors sliding apart to reveal a private terrace. only a couple tables on the entire floor. a few people sitting down and enjoying their dinners. beautiful greenery surrounding the perimeter, the night sky only making it prettier. your mouth is left agape, you’re stuck in the elevator, speechless. jungkook gently tugs you forward, following the suit man to the table. 

jungkook pulls your chair out for you. you could cry at the chivalry. you sit and he pushes the chair in, jungkook follows soon, sitting in the chair across from you. the man hands the two of you the menu and moves away from the table, standing back near to the elevator, waiting until you are both ready to order. 

“this is fucking crazy,” you whisper-shout. the terrace was lit by these bright fairy lights that were hidden in the plants and were above the tables as well. it looked like little fairies and fire flies were in the air, roaming around. 

“i know right!” jungkook looked as surprised as you were. “i asked my friends for some help and holy shit!” 

“they know you’re on a date with me right now?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. 

to this he furrows his eyebrows, “of course they do, i talk about you all the time—”but he stops himself from exposing himself any further. you can’t help but giggle. “i mean, i asked them to help me make this special, and here we are.” 

you swoon. he’s so sweet for planning all of this out and wanting to make you feel special. the two of you look through the menu, jungkook warns you not to look at the prices, telling you to get whatever you want because the price doesn’t matter. but of course, your eyes stray to the numbers, the meals costing a pretty penny for a simple spaghetti plate, the cheapest thing on there. you were craving pasta anyway, you didn’t mind. the two of you order and wait for the food to arrive. 

the city of seoul was just below you, not too high but high enough to turn people into smaller figures of themselves. the night lights look gorgeous from up here. the warm summer night only complimenting the gorgeous atmosphere. 

“the view is so pretty,” you gaze out into the city. the pretty colors from all the lights of the different stores and restaurants complementing each other so beautifully. 

jungkook was in awe, he knows that the city below you is gorgeous, but he can’t seem to get his eyes off of you. your chin resting in the palm of your hand as your eyes search through the streets. “yeah…” he agrees, “very beautiful.” he smiles, only looking at you. 

the food comes and you both dig in. the two of you enjoy some conversation with each other as you eat. the topic of growing up comes up, both of you explaining the occupations you wanted, and you said something that sparked curiosity in jungkook. “your childhood dream was to live in california?” he smiles, chewing on his steak. most of the time kids dream about going to the moon or finding atlantis, but you wanted to go to america? 

you nod, “sounds funny right? when i was a teen, i watched a lot of 90210.” 

“is that all though? you only wanted to go because of a tv show?” he asks. there’s something you’re hiding, and jungkook can see it in the way that you hide your smile. 

at first, you hesitate, but you open your mouth to speak, “well— there is— no, it’s embarrassing.” you shake your head, changing your mind and reverting your eyes down. staring at the plate of pasta in front of you. guys you talked to didn’t wanna hear about it, they thought what you were into was boring, embarrassing almost. a part of you feared that jungkook would feel the same. 

you feel his hand on your chin, tilting your head up. “i wanna hear about it.” his face telling you the truth, the sincerity in his eyes as he patiently waits for you to explain. 

“there’s this science program in california, they explore new ideas for researching the ocean, like trying to see what lurks in the deep blue, helping fix the rising oceans, everything-- oh my god, and they like go on field trips to different countries to see the coastlines and historical sites—” you cut yourself off when you realize that you’re talking at the speed of light. “i’m rambling.” you were terrified to see his reaction. 

but when your eyes finally meet jungkook’s, they’re full of light. and his smile is so big. “dude, that’s so dope!” he grins, “i didn’t know you were so into the ocean!” 

it was the bare minimum, being nice, but that was hard to find when it came to the majority of the male species. obviously, jungkook is above average, he only proves that the more time you spend with him. 

“oh, i love it! my parents would bring me to the beach and i would cry every time we would have to leave, aquariums too, and the fish section in the pet stores.” you gush, leaning into the table to tell jungkook more. he leans into his hand, resting his cheek against his fist as he listens to you spill your knowledge and love. 

he notes that the next date should be at the beach or an aquarium. it was a great time for him to learn this, especially since it was summer. the weather in favor of the cold ocean waves. jungkook swears he can listen to you talk until the end of time. your sweet voice can be the narration to his life, he’d never get sick of it. 

the food on both of your plates had been cleared, the conversation sizzling into a comfortable silence before the man came back to give you the bill. jungkook doesn’t let you see it, instead just sticking his card in the black folder thing, and giving it back to the fancy suit man. it wasn’t long before he came back, handing jungkook back his card and giving the both of you a lollipop with gold flakes encased inside. 

you gasp at the piece of candy, now that was ridiculous. you weren’t one to reject a lollipop though, gratefully taking the candy and popping it into your mouth. jungkook does the same. it tastes of blueberry. at this point he stands up, moving in front of you and holding his hand out to you. “let’s look around? i heard they have a cool museum on the second floor.” 

you take his hand, “i love museums!” the two of you make your way to the elevator, the man (he never told you his name) kept the door open for you both. he presses the second floor button when jungkook asks him for the museum. the elevator landing on the second floor, the doors slide open to show a completely empty art hall. this place shocking you every chance it gets. you didn’t think it could get better, but it did. 

when the two of you exit the elevator, the man leaves you to it, taking the elevator down and leaving you alone. your eyes scan the place, huge paintings on the walls, small paintings in collages, some sculptures on the floor, it felt like a pop-up museum. you both make your way down the enormous hallway, both sides of the room’s wall displaying works of art. you stop at one specific painting, the familiar work has you spewing random facts. “these are the lovers! i had to analyze this once,” you speak. the art displaying a couple kissing, both of their heads covered by a white sheet. “the real one is in australia, i think.” you laugh, tapping the lollipop against your lips. 

jungkook listens intently, but he doesn’t pay attention to the painting on the wall. everytime he does, his eyes always revert to you. the art doesn’t stand a chance against you in his book. you, yourself, were a piece of art, one that was rare in this world, one of a kind. 

he can’t seem to resist. taking your hand and raising it over your head, the way that they do in ballroom dancing. if a twirl was what he wanted, then so he got it. “beautiful,” he compliments, pulling you in close for a hug. the two of you swaying in the middle of the hall of this stupidly expensive restaurant. 

you look up to him, making full eye contact as the two of you lean on one foot to the other. probably looking like a lovesick couple, getting lost in the moment. which, you were. your eyes flicker from his eyes down to his lips, he seems to do the same thing. his hand moves to caress your face, the swaying ceased. now the two of you are centimeters apart, noses brushing against each other. if jungkook doesn’t kiss you now, he thinks he’ll combust. so when he feels you pushing forward, he does the same, meeting you in the middle. your lips connect. the kiss almost identical to the painting in front of you. 

jungkook swears he felt himself levitating. your lips are sweet, the blueberry flavor of the lollipop lingering on them. he’s had his fair share of kisses in his life. makeouts, pecks, cheek kisses, all types of kisses. but something about this one tells him that he’s in for it. he’ll never be able to get enough now that he’s gotten a taste. 

neither of you want to take it too far; swallowing each other's faces in a distinguished, five star restaurant’s museum didn’t seem very proper. so the two of you make your way out of the building, thanking everyone at the front desk, especially the man that helped you out today, and walking into the parking garage where jungkook’s car was. 

when you get to his car, he moves to open the passenger door for you but you stop him with a hand on his arm. you reach to open the back door handle and his eyes almost bulge out. everyone knows what happens in the backseat, and jungkook did not prepare himself for something like this. 

you look up at him with the most innocent eyes, but there’s something devious hidden in your smile when you ask, “do you wanna talk for a bit longer? in the backseat? it’s more comfortable than sitting in the front.” 

jungkook never took you for someone this bold. it’s either you didn’t know the meaning of the backseat (which was totally fine) or you knew very well, and had plans to devour jungkook (which was also totally fine).

he chickens out, his hands starting to sweat. “do you want to just go for a little walk or something?” it’s not like jungkook didn’t want anything to happen, it’s that he did. if he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover from it. he walks a tightrope around you when it comes to his self control. one wrong move, and he’s terrified that he’ll fuck everything up. 

“oh, it’s just my feet kinda hurt from these heels.” you pout, lifting you foot up to show him the almost stiletto heel. 

his eyes widen. why didn’t he think of that? “oh— oh shit, i didn’t even— yeah, let’s sit.” he tugs on the door, letting you slide into the back seat. he follows, leaving a good amount of space between you both to make sure that there was nothing too suspicious going on. you hope your bold moves hide your nervousness, despite your confidence, jungkook’s unsure looks make you want to curl up into a ball. did he not want this? 

the air was different now. in the restaurant the two of you had been so carefree, slow dancing in the museum, and landing a sweet kiss on each other’s lips. but now, an uncomfortable silence tears at the two of you. your hesitance makes you speak, trying to see if a conversation would ease the tension in the air. “i had a lot of fun tonight, kookie, thank you.” 

it seems to comfort jungkook, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. with a small smile on his face he replies, “me too, i was really nervous you wouldn’t like the food.” 

“oh it was good! i’ll eat anything really, it’s just—“

“you didn’t like the place? was it too much—“

“no, jungkook, oh my god— i loved it, it was just really expensive, i still feel really bad about you paying for all of it,” you look to him seriously. “let me give you at least my half?” 

he shakes his head, “i asked you out on this date, it means i pay, don’t worry about the price.” 

you roll your eyes playfully, “big spender huh?”

a pretty laugh escapes his lips. “hard worker too.” 

to this you smile, you stare at his impossibly-perfect face, noticing a stray eyelash on his cheek. you see a chance to strike and you take it immediately. you lean forward to swipe it off. jungkook almost leans into your touch. he’s so terrified that he’ll embarrass himself right now, so he’s been holding back tremendously. but the way you pick the eyelash off and place it on your thumb with a smile on your face, it eases most of the tension in his chest. 

“make a wish!” you hold your thumb up to his lips. his eyes cross to look at the piece of hair on your finger, but nevertheless he obliged. shutting his eyes tight, making a wish, and blowing the eyelash off of your thumb. 

you let out a small cheer before you ask him, “what’d you wish for?” 

“if i told you then my wish wouldn’t come true, right?” he boops your nose. suddenly, jungkook doesn’t feel so nervous. his nerves calming at the feeling of your soft hands against his face. you make him so nervous, but at the same time you make him so comfortable and make him want to be himself. it seems as though the two of you were staring at each other for a while. jungkook was thinking about how much he likes you, the same ideas run through your mind. the thoughts make you wish for something more. 

“can i kiss you again, kookie?” 

he stares at you, weighing his options. if he kisses you now, then he has to strategically only give you a few kisses, he absolutely cannot make out with you, or else, jungkook will succumb to his desires.

but he takes a little too long to respond. the both of you overthinking the fuck out of the situation. it makes you draw back. “it’s okay if you don’t want—“ 

“no, no, please, kiss me,” he brings you back, moving closer to you. licking his lips in anticipation as you slowly push forward, closing the gap between you both. the kiss is so sweet, like the one in the museum. jungkook can still taste the blueberry lingering on your lips. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of kissing you. 

you pull away first. your eyes scanning his face to see any expression of regret. there’s none. his hand moves to the side of your face, caressing your face and bringing you to him once again to meet your lips. he can’t get enough. “tell me what you wished for, please,” you speak against his lips. 

he smiles into the kiss. he wasn’t going to tell you, but since you were asking so nicely, he gives you a kiss on the cheek when he answers, “i wished for a second date.” 

“oh, didn’t you know?” you kiss both of his cheeks before speaking again, “i grant wishes,” with wink.

“fuck, you’re so cute,” he thinks out loud, it makes you blush. pink cheeks out for show and jungkook thinks you look even cuter. he dives in for one more kiss, telling himself this will be the last one, but when you make sweet noises against his lips, it has him wanting more. hands moving down to your waist, pulling you in and letting you climb onto his lap. he pulls away first, trying to get a hold of himself. “i uh— actually, didn’t plan for this to happen,“ he mumbles against your skin, tripping over his words. 

you look down, arms wrapped around his neck. “hm? what did you plan?” 

“we were supposed to kiss on the next date i take you on and i didn’t think— we’re just ahead of schedule, that’s all.” jungkook tries to explain that he didn’t want to rush it, god no. he wanted to take his time, make sure that you didn’t feel pressured to do anything. but now, it seems like you’re taking the wheel and jungkook doesn’t mind it one bit.

“oh so you had like a real plan? like times and everything?” the thought of it makes you laugh, and the way that jungkook flushes makes you want to pinch his cheeks. 

he pouts when you giggle, “don’t laugh, i just really, really wanted to do it right, you’re just so amazing and i didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

you smile at his concern. the fact that you have the uni heartthrob planning dates in his head down to the details and wanting to be sure he does it right makes your head spin. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the way that your heart is beating three times the normal rate when you go to kiss him again. the only sounds in the car are labored breaths and your lips smacking together. it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into him. his growing bulge rubbing against your soaking core. a groan leaving him when you grind particularly harder, his hands moving to your ass to grip it. you melt in his arms, small whimpers leaving your throat as jungkook drinks them up

you pull away from his lips, giving his cheeks attention then leaving a trail of kisses as you make your way to his ear. one final kiss is planted below his earlobe before you whisper, “am i ruining your plans, kookie?” 

jungkook tries his best to conceal his groan, tries his best to ignore his incredibly hard dick in his jeans, but you’re so pretty and you’re on top of him, kissing him. it feels like a dream to jungkook. it is quite literally a dream come true. 

he was already playing with fire, your body a flame in the cold, he moves closer and closer until he burns. “fuck plans,” he breathes. a hand comes back to caress your face once again. filthy thoughts flooding his brain. he wonders what being in between your legs is like, what you sound like when you cum. he wants to make you cry and beg for his cock. but he holds himself back, knowing that you’ll have time to try everything out, if you wanted of course. he leans the both of you forward, his large hands splayed on your back to secure you on his lap. your lips find each other once more. “can i touch you?” he asks so sweetly, a hidden poison weaving through that you can slightly hear through the deep rumble of his voice. 

you’ve never wanted anything more. “please,” you nod. your lips chasing his when he pulls further away. 

jungkook smiles at the action. “lay on my lap, baby.” he instructs, tapping your thigh. the nickname rolling off his tongue, his voice seemingly dropping an entire octave. you raise your leg and move it over to sit on his lap, sideways. your back against the car door and his right hand rubbing your thighs ever so gently. 

“like this?” you ask, looking to him for reassurance. he looks to you with eyes that you’ve never seen, lusted and dark. 

“mhm, perfect,” he nods. “good girl.” the praise goes straight to your belly, your panties flooding from how much you want him. his hands move slowly down your inner thighs as he goes in to kiss you again. 

you’re absentmindedly spreading your legs, making room for him. he smirks against your lips when he realizes. he knows what you want, so his fingers move to your panties, lightly putting pressure over your clothed bud. you whimper at the feeling, biting his lip in the process. he moans in response, putting a little more pressure against your bundle of nerves. 

“jungkook,” you whine, pulling away from his lips, “please.” 

“please what, baby?” he kisses your cheek, “tell me what you want.”  

“please touch me, please.” you beg, making eye contact with him. jungkook’s dick twitches at the sound of your begging. he wanted to string you along a little longer, but you’re being so good. 

“since you asked so nicely, baby,” he obliges. bunching your dress up around your waist and noticing the pretty black lace underwear you were wearing, “for me?” he asks. you nod, your teeth taking in your bottom lip. he groans at the thought, you getting ready and picking out these cute, risque panties out just for him. it’s just too bad they’re gonna be on the floor on his car. he’s gonna need to ask for a rain check on admiring you and your cute underwear later.  

you lift your hips to help him, underwear coming off to reveal your soaking pussy. “oh, fuck,” jungkook murmurs at the sight of it. “you’re so wet baby.” he almost starts drooling, he can’t wait to taste you, but he’s still hesitant, only wanting to do what you want to. next time, he can eat you out. right now, he’ll admire the delicious sight and make you cum on his fingers. 

your eyes travel to the window directly in front of you, suddenly feeling insecure. thighs closing, thinking about how someone could look in and see. “what about the windows—“ 

“they’re tinted, no one can see from the outside in, i promise.” he reassures, giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek before asking, “do you still want to do this? we can stop now.” he’s so lovely, his concern and change in demeanor only making you want it more, knowing that he wouldn’t want to push you to do something you were uncomfortable with. sweet was sexy on jungkook. you never thought there would be a day that jeon jungkook fingers you in a parking lot of a five star restaurant, but here you are. and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

so you shake your head, taking his hand, and placing it back in between your legs. “please.” 

“anything for you.” he whispers in your ear before running his middle finger up your slit, collecting your wetness, and spreading it around your clit. he continues making tight circles on your clit, the sensation drives you crazy. you lean your head back against the window, moaning out. it was almost humiliating how reactive you were, you hadn’t indulged in this kind of intimacy in a while, almost a year to be specific. 

it wasn’t helping that jungkook was a fucking pro. the right amount of pressure and the placement of his digits against you has you dripping onto his nice, dress pants. you hoped nobody else was in the parking garage, else they would hear your cries of jungkook’s name. “more, kookie, more— fuck.” 

“more baby?” he questions, the sound of your moans going straight to his already hard dick. he thinks he could cum just to the sound of your voice. he’s one hundred percent fucked when it comes to you. he dips his middle finger into your hole, you gasp in reaction. “like that? hmm? ” 

jungkook knew was he was doing, he had you spread wide in the backseat of his car, already on the verge on an orgasm. he had a few years of experience on his belt, a ‘retired fuck boy’ he was, but he’s never wanted to please somebody more than he does right now with you. you just looked so pretty like this, so eager and begging for more. 

he adds his ring finger now, his thumb against your clit. “oh, god—“ you mutter, the feeling of his fingers and his thumb on your clit is too good. his fingers fucking you better than anyone else’s dick ever has. you found yourself bucking your hips against his fingers. “kookie, kiss me, please,” you look up to him with the eyes he can never fucking deny. so he kisses you, drinking up your moans as you fuck yourself up onto his fingers. 

“i didn’t know you were such a dirty girl,” he murmurs against your lips. your walls clenching around him, “letting me touch you like this in the backseat of my car?” his usual sweet demeanor now contorting into this cocky guy with an ego. it makes you even wetter. the squelch of your pussy every time his fingers push in is loud, the sound is music to jungkook’s ears. 

“only— only for you, jungkook,” you whimper.  you feel a familiar knot in your stomach tighten. he looked so hot like this. eager to please. his bottom lip caught in his teeth and a strand of his long hair dangling in front of his eyes. 

“good girl, all mine,” he kisses your neck. it may seem just like something you say during sex, but jungkook wanted it to be true. wanted you and only you. all to himself. he makes his way to a sweet spot, the feeling makes you tilt your head, giving him more access to kiss and suck along the sensitive skin. the discomfort of your back against the hard door was the last of your worries. your orgasm creeping closer and closer, juices leaking all overs his fingers. “so wet baby,” he growls, “i know i could just slide in, fuck you so good.” 

“p-please, i want it.” the thought of jungkook fucking you senseless, oh, you’d go crazy. begging wasn’t something you did when it came to sex, most of the time it was quiet, moans and breaths were the only things that you’d hear, no dirty words or praises. it was a good change, you never thought that you’d be so into being talked through it. 

he smiles at your eagerness, “patience baby, gotta take you on another date, yeah?” kissing your pursed lips. always so sweet and lovely. 

you feel his fingers push a little deeper, curling to find that sweet spot inside of you. your reaction does something to him, makes him hit the exact same spot, over and over again, in a slow, torturous beat just so he can draw those delicious gasps and moans out of you. jungkook feels close. he’s never felt like this before, so wound up. he ignores it, pushing it to the back of his head to focus on helping you reach your climax. 

lucky for jungkook, he didn’t have to wait very long. his fingers were longer and a thicker than yours, his efforts making you get there faster than you ever could. the consistent deep strokes of his fingers make the warning signals go off in your head. you speak a verbal warning before, “fuck, i’m gonna cum,” your voice pitches a little higher than usual. 

“gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” he gives you one last sloppy kiss before you’re moaning out and coming onto his fingers, eyes screwed shut as your walls convulse rapidly as his fingers fuck you through your orgasm. “fuck, you’re so hot, ___.” 

you feel a smile break on your face. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you wink, still trying to catch your breath. a laugh slips from his mouth, small smirk on his mouth to match. he slips his fingers out, your body twitching at the over stimulation. 

 “i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes. inspecting his fingers, your pale almost-white cum coating the digits. he brings them to his mouth, sucking on your sweet sap. you’ve never seen anything hotter in your life. “sweet, just like you,” he smirks. you shrink in his stare, hiding your blush. like you totally didn’t just cum on his fingers. 

you’re distracted by the feeling of something hard resting under your thigh, it’s then that you realize, “what about—“ you start but jungkook cuts you off quick. 

“no, no, it’s okay, it’ll go away soon.” he shakes his head, but you furrow your eyebrows. 

you pull on his black tie, making him lean forward and make eye contact with you “can i?” you ask, so sweetly. 

he stares at you with the most sexed eyes you’ve ever witnessed. “you’re driving me crazy.” 

“you’re always so sweet to me, jungkook,” you kiss his cheek. readjusting yourself in his lap, straddling him once more. “took me on this amazing dinner, always treating me like a princess.” your lips travel down from his cheeks to his jawline, then to his neck. he shudders at the feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin. your hands move from around his neck to travel further down, to the latch of his belt. his breath hitches. “let me return the favor, kookie.”

“i—“ he laughs, the embarrassment evident in the pink tint on his face. “i won’t last very long.” 

you didn’t mind, just assuring him with a sweet kiss on the cheek before you start removing his belt. jungkook leans his head back on the headrest, his neck exposed for you to kiss and suck. you unbutton and unzip, pulling his pants and his boxers down at the same time. his size makes your eyes bulge. he was huge. your mouth waters at the sight. 

“you’re so big, kook.” you egg him on, fueling his ego because he just looked so hot. your hand moves to hold him at the base, he lets out a shaky breath when your soft skin meets his. jungkook’s head is in the clouds, he could cum right now if he let go, but he’s holds himself back, not wanting to look like a fool in front of you. your hand moves up his dick, your thumb collecting the precum dripping from his hole, your thumb running over his slit as he groans. 

his hips buck up, “shit, baby.” he just sounds so good. you could just lick him up. you collect some saliva in your mouth, letting it drip from your mouth onto his dick to lube your hand. he groans at the sight, “you’re so filthy, baby, holy shit.” 

you smirk at the admission, the spit making it so easy for your hand to glide against his cock. the feeling makes him throw his head back again. his chest rising and falling.  the picture of him with his eyes screwed shut in pleasure and his mouth agape makes your lower belly light up once more, you clench around nothing. leaning in as you pump his cock to whisper in his ear, “wanna fuck me so bad? have me crying on your cock? you want that, don’t you, kookie?” 

jungkook twitches at your words. that’s exactly what he wants. was he that easy to read? was that what you wanted too? the thought of it makes him want to explode, “oh— god, ffuck— fuck,” he sputters. his hand coming up to hover above his head, your hand still pumping as the spurts of his cum shoot out. you smile at the action, knowing he didn’t wanna fuck up your dress. instead just making a mess of him and his hand. he takes deep breaths before speaking, “there’s a little box of tissues in the center console, could you hand it to me, baby?” 

you lean back, opening the console and reaching for the small box that sits in the center. before you give it to him, your eyes flicker to the sticky mess all over jungkook’s hand and groin. a sudden urge to lick takes you over, holding jungkook’s hand and bringing it up to your mouth. you lick the dripping cum from the palm of his hand as he watches, maintaining eye contact the entire time. 

jungkook shivers, a smile creeping on his face, “you— you’re evil.” the remark makes you laugh. 

“sorry, just wanted to help clean up.” you smile, swallowing the cum you collected on your tongue. 

“yeah, yeah, you’re not the sweet girl i thought you were,” jungkook quirks a brow. 

you roll your eyes playfully, “you don’t like it?” 

“nope, i love it, you’re perfect.” jungkook wipes off the remaining mess from his lap and his hand. you help him clean up tissues and he picks up your panties that were discarded on the floor. the two of you fix yourselves before stepping out of the back seat, jungkook opens the passenger door for you before he goes to a trashcan and throws away the soiled tissues. 

he joins you back in the car, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. you were rambling about how happy you were that no one was around and how there were no security cameras in the parking garage. jungkook blabbers too, telling you about how embarrassed he is that he barely lasted a few minutes. before the two of you knew it, his car parked in front of your apartment complex. 

he stands outside of your front door, leaning against the doorframe. all dreamy and not like he just made you cum in the backseat of his car. “text me before you sleep?” he smiles. 

you nod, “of course,” reflecting the same smile. you wave before closing your door. the date being more than you ever expected. there was no way jungkook was real. he had to be a figment of your imagination, he was the absolute dream guy. 

you lay in bed, staring at the stars on your ceiling. a blush creeping up to your cheeks once more when you think about the events that took place tonight. 

[11:02 pm] you: thank you for tonight, jungkook 

[11:02 pm] you: it was magical <3 

[11:03 pm] jungkook: no problem cutie, i had an amazing time with you

[11:04 pm] jungkook: feeling okay? 

[11:06 pm] you: i’m great!!! more than okay

[11:07 pm] jungkook: 😂

[11:07 pm] jungkook: i’m glad cutie

[11:08 pm] you: lunch on me next time? now that you’ve taken me for dinner :) 

[11:08 pm] jungkook: sure, i’m down :) 

[11:09 pm] you: i’m rlly tired kookie 

[11:10 pm] you: gonna head to sleep now 

[11:10 pm] jungkook: alright cutie 

[11:11 pm] jungkook: sweet dreams! 

｡ﾟ(ﾟ^Ｏ^ﾟ)ﾟ｡ tag list: @giadalin @ggukkieland

[jadequeen88]

Smart Girls Make Fast Learners

NSFW 18+ ONLY. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

My contribution to the BNHarem’s monthly collab. The theme was SEx work. ⛓This piece is a first real deep dive into darker themes and was actually really, really exciting to write. 🖤 A massive thanks to my dear friend @libiraki​ for beta reading this.

TW: yandere behavior, toxic relationship, degradation, non-con, dub-con, degradation/praise kinks, mind break, oral (M and F receiving), over stim, loss of virginity, mentions of physical violence.

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone this type of relationship. This is a work of fiction and if this happens IRL please get out of the relationship!

There is a very specific type of dread that occurs when you discover that the person you built your world around has been lying to you. Tamaki Amajiki was experiencing this brand of betrayal for the first time in his twenty-one years on a rainy Tuesday in October in the dim lighting of your dorm room. His grip tightened around the open laptop as he stared at glimpses of flesh in the thumbnails of the many, many videos posted to the site. Previous live streams with thousands of views. He gulped down the bile in his throat as he scrolled through the videos. His shock and disgust morphed into a pure rage as he counted up the live streams that you’d had since first kissing him. 12. There had been twelve. Three times a week for the past four weeks. 

Those big doe eyes that looked into his eyes as you tentatively licked the tip of his cock for the first time… mere hours later they were rolling in the back of your head as you got off for strangers on the internet. He couldn’t take it. You were his first… everything… he knew that you hadn’t been innocent in your past. The way your tongue expertly wound around his when you first kissed him amongst your plush pillows and goose-down comforter reminded him of the fact. The low violet LED lighting of your bedroom made him feel like the two of you were in your own ethereal world. He could forgive you for not waiting for him as he’d waited for you. 

For the past four years, he kept to the shadows. He was there when the football player from freshman year cheated on you with one of your terrible friends (and when it happened the second, third, fourth time). He was there to binge your favorite shows with you (“*insert current guy you were fucking* just doesn’t get it, he’s not into it. I’m so glad I’ve got you to watch it with!”) He bit back the heartache that would wash over him when you’d pet him and coo over him… you didn’t see him as a man. He wanted to bend you over and prove he could fuck your brains out. He KNOWS he’d be perfect for you. But he never rejected the attention. He smiled and accepted whatever crumbs fell from your table. Whether it be helping you study or letting you complain about your shitty friends or your shitty jock boyfriends or your shitty parents… He gave and gave and gave… until that one day, 35 days ago to be exact, a shift in the tide occurred.

 ⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸

“So why don’t you have a girlfriend, Tama-kun?”

“Wh-wha?”

Tamaki dropped the pencil he’d been using and before he could bend to get it himself, your hand was on his thigh and he was putty in your grasp. You giggled and cooed over him like you always did, but this time you did it while assaulting his mouth and neck with your skilled tongue. This time, for the first time, you made Tamaki feel like a man. Like YOUR man.

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Over the next few weeks, Tamaki had become quite skilled in pleasing a woman. It only took a little guidance to have him sucking at your clit with just the right amount of pressure. He learned on his own how to couple that with his long, delicate fingers twisting and pumping in and out of your slick hole. You’d cling to his silky hair, pulling him closer as a constant stream of praise tumbled from your lips:

“No one has ever made me feel this good.”

“Your fingers are perfect Tama-kun”.

“I love your mouth on me so much, baby.”

The first time you came on his face, Tamaki knew there was a god because he’d found heaven between your thighs.

But that was gone now… ripped away with one mouse click on the night he was going to finally give you his virginity. He had held on to it like it was a treasure. A treasure he’d present to you one day wrapped up in life-long devotion and worship... But Tamaki wasn’t in heaven anymore. He wasn’t going to worship you tonight. For the first time since laying eyes on you, Tamaki wanted to hurt you.

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You turned the shower off and dried yourself. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. You felt like this was going to be the first time giving your body to someone. Tonight was a redo. You were wiping the slate clean. Your first time would no longer be underneath the football captain in the passenger seat of his truck, left feeling sore and unsatisfied. It was going to be with the guy you should have noticed long ago. It would be soft and slow… passionate and filled with sweet words and caresses… limbs tangled in soft sheets that smell like lavender and vanilla. 

You applied your lotion and moisturized your face. The red lace adorning your body was arranged perfectly, accentuating the soft swell of your hips and chest. With one last glance in the mirror and adjustment of your bra, you opened the door to the cool air of your dorm room…

...And saw Tamaki looking murderous. 

His eyes slowly left the screen to meet your gaze. His tear-stained face had never looked this harsh. His normally sweet eyes were narrowed and red from crying. The sweet lips you’d licked and sucked with such tenderness were hard and cold as they pulled upward in a grimace.

The only thing he said before rising from the bed and setting aside your laptop was your camgirl username. Then he was on you before you could draw a breath to explain.

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Tamaki always thought he liked you best on top of him showering him with kisses and threading your fingers through his hair, but he had to admit… having your arms tied to a bed frame with the silky sash of your bathrobe cutting into your skin was doing things to him. When you sniffled, face stained with tears and snot, his dick twitched in his boxers. The whines you were choking back behind the silky red panties stuffed down your throat sent chills up his spine. You had to learn the hard way not to spit them out after a harsh slap echoed against your skin when you fought back the first time.

Tamaki stood back to survey the mess of skin, spit, and tears for a moment. You were a blank canvas for him to mark up with his rage and lust. You tried to hide away your bare pussy by clenching your thighs together. It only spurred him on.

“Do you have any clue what you’ve done?” he hovered over you, sleek muscles rippling over your own soft body, “I waited, and waited, and WAITED,” he bit down on the side of your exposed neck and you screamed behind the silky gag, trying your best not to expel it from your mouth and receive more punishment.

“I want to give you everything, Y/N,” he licks over the bite, almost apologetically, “I don’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want it to happen like this… FUCK, why?! Why did you ruin this?” his long fingers dug into your cheeks as he forced you to meet his fiery gaze. You couldn’t help whimpering and sniffling back more clear runny snot. You were so humiliated at how disheveled and disgusting you must look. His head ducked into the soft spot between your neck and shoulder and you felt him sob. 

Despite the abuse he’d inflicted upon you in the last ten minutes, you nuzzled your cheek into the top of his head in an attempt to comfort him. And he let you… he hated himself for it and he hated you for making this all so hard for him.

“No… no, no, no,” he rose from the bed to set up your ring-light and laptop, ice running through your veins at the sight. Your mind couldn’t accept what was about to happen.

“I’m... I’m not letting you get away with this,” he shook his head and pulled at his hair as he finished setting everything up, “If you’re insisting on being a slut, you’ll be MY slut. And everyone will know…” he jerked your ankle to force you flat on your back.

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Maybe if he’d let the gag out of your mouth, you’d be able to tell him this was just a job to you. That it was clinical… that he was the only one who had ever been able to get you off, that his face was the only one you’d come on… that you needed the money since your parents had disowned you…

But you only laid there, accepting whatever he was going to dish out. You knew he was hurt. You weren’t stupid. You overlooked him while knowing how he felt about you. It took years of horrible one-night stands and countless frat parties pretending that whatever guy you’d picked that night was interesting for you to come to your senses. You hated yourself for being so blind for so long… You adored Tamaki, truly. And you hated yourself for all the times you’d hurt him… so you swallowed your fear and tried to prepare yourself for whatever came next.

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Any soft parts of Tamaki that you’d grown to love were gone, hardened by heartache and desperation. After angling the laptop to get the perfect shot, he started the live stream countdown. Subscribers started trickling in, commenting on how this was a pleasant surprise since it wasn’t one of your regularly scheduled streams. You shut your eyes to pretend this wasn’t real.

Without fanfare or warning, Tamaki ripped apart your thighs, exposing your bare slit. A raw shrill was pulled from your lungs, your back arching from the sting of an abrupt slap. Neurons fired off in your brain… were you in pain? Was it pleasure?

“Since my girlfriend likes to keep secrets from me, I can’t trust what comes out of her whore mouth,” he emphasized his point by stuffing his fingers past your lips, pushing the soaked silk further into your throat, “So she’s going to keep this gag right here until I can fuck the truth out of her,” he trailed his fingers along your reddened folds. Were you getting wet? Horror and shame blossomed in your chest. The fact that you were growing aroused wasn’t lost on Tamaki. His foreign, sadistic grin was back… aimed directly into your soul.  

“So that’s what you like, huh?” His nails bit into your thighs leaving tiny crescents behind, “I’ve been too nice? Too soft?” He pushed your thighs impossibly wide, the stretch causing you to moan. He hovered over your core, onyx orbs blown wide with a mix of hate and lust. Tamaki looked like the devil himself and you wondered just how fucked up you were for wanting his punishment.

He opened his mouth and lolled out his tongue, never severing the desperate gaze you both shared, his intertwined with hunger, yours with fear. You’d never noticed how long and thick his tongue was and couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel caressing every ridge and crevice of your inner walls. He flattened the warm, wet muscle and pressed it along your slit. As he slowly slid it closer and closer to your burning clit, you whimpered and bucked your hips chasing the pleasure you knew he was capable of giving… but this was not your sweet boy and he wasn’t doing any of this for your pleasure.

He slung his arm over your lower stomach and growled into your drenched lips. You were pinned down, helpless against his torturous tongue. Fresh tears pricked at your eyes as you remembered how he’d let you pet him and buck into his face, how sweetly he’d ease you into a gentle release. Not this time… it was all teeth and sharp sucks, his tongue forcing you open violently. You were being shoved over a cliff and despite the horror and violence of what was happening to you. You were approaching an orgasmic state at record speed. Tamaki caught on and doubled down. The arm that wasn’t pinning you into the mattress pulled your leg down straight, your knee in a death grip. The new angle made the sensations even more intense. His face pressed harder into your core and you noticed that at some point, he’d started weeping, small sobs vibrating against your skin. The overwhelming mix of emotions and the vigor in which he was eating you shoved you over the edge.

He kept going along at the same speed with the same determination through your orgasm until it became painful. You pushed past it as best you could, allowing him to sob into your over-sensitive skin until he had his fill. As the pain started intermingling with pleasure, your legs shook and the gag couldn’t hold your screams back any longer. You released against his tongue once more, both of you sobbing. He laid against your thigh for what felt like an eternity before he lifted himself to lay on top of you, his hip bones digging into your soft thighs. You could feel the bulge through the thin material of his boxer briefs. Your hips rose to meet it, a pleading gesture filled with the desire to comfort and please him. Your eagerness encourages his mercy, there’s a meek cry that leaves your lips when the damp silk slips from between your teeth.

“Please baby… I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you…” your voice was as weak as a kitten’s cry and Tamaki couldn’t deny it made his heart (his dick) clench.

“Say it…” his lips were close enough to kiss, but you resisted… fearful of what he’d do if you did.

“Say what, Tama?” your eyes were wide with concern and confusion. You were desperate to please him.

He turned your face to the camera that you’d forgotten was there and the gravity of the situation crashed around you again. New tears leaked from your stinging eyes as Tamaki whispered into your ear.

“Say that you’re a lying whore…”

“I..I’m a lying whore…”

The last syllable broke as your abused throat grew accustomed to speaking again. He rewarded you with a soft kiss to your cheek and your eyes closed at the tender gesture. The familiar pain in your chest welled to the surface causing even more tears to escape.

“And tell everyone that you’re my own personal slut”

You repeated the phrase to the audience behind the screen and he hummed with approval, trailing one finger along your wet cheek. 

“Good girl…” the praise sent shivers through your wrecked body.

“And tell them from now on, your boyfriend will be the only one making you come… that they only get to see you be HIS slut.”

You noticed the chat going absolutely haywire at your announcement. Before Tamaki shut your laptop, you realized you’d made three times as much as you’d ever made before and a twisted sense of accomplishment filled your cloudy mind.

“Please,” your voice came out in a croak, “Please untie me. I wanna make it up to you,” his clothed bulge was burning into your core and you could tell he was close to breaking.

“Please let me make you feel good. I’m so, so sorry,” the clench of your thighs around his waist made him whimper.

He reluctantly pulled away to sit on the foot of the bed. The way he curled in on himself hugging his knees made him appear so small, so fragile… a complete change from the man who’d just manhandled you into restraints.

“You’re a liar…” you almost didn’t hear the whisper, his face buried into his knees.

“Please!” you were losing feeling in your hands and all you wanted was to be free to comfort him.

His eyes met yours and it was your Tamaki again... Your sweet boy… the snarling, green beast that threatened to devour you was sleeping now after it reached its fill of violence. He crawled over your body and released your restraint. Before you even regained feeling in your hands, you wrapped your arms around him. You littered his collarbone with sweet kisses and apologetic sobs. He began to melt into your affectionate gestures and you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him impossibly close. Wet lips met and your tongues fought against each other for dominance. Hips began to roll against each other, increasing pressure until you both gasped. 

The violence was gone, but this was still not a gentle coupling like you’d been planning. Tamaki pulled away and freed his straining cock from his boxers. The skin-to-skin contact made your eyes roll back into your skull. You felt his long fingers grasp your throat, squeezing to remind you just how powerful they were. You shuddered in response, arching upward into his touch, chasing that high his dominance was giving you.

With one swift motion, Tamaki speared you onto his cock. With the minimal prep he’d given you, the stretch was agonizing. This was by far the largest cock you’d ever taken and it stole your breath from your aching lungs. You moaned earning a visceral reaction from the boy on top of you.  

Tamaki stayed as still as he could. He refused to come so soon… not when he’d waited so long for this. He tightened his grip on your throat and tentatively rocked his hips into yours. It didn’t take long for it to progress into the most frantic love-making you’d ever experienced.

There was no other way to describe it, he was hate fucking you… biting and sucking your chest until blood bloomed under your skin… hammering into your sore, sticky cunt with total abandon… he was using you like a toy, taking out all his frustrations on your body.

It was ecstasy.

When his hips stuttered as he met his release, the spasms of his tip against your gummy walls sent you into a painful orgasm. You were spent and it seemed like he was too. Your fingers twitched over the crown of his head, wanting to run your fingers through his hair but too scared to initiate any contact with him. As if he could read your mind, he grabbed your hand and placed it on his head. You sighed and began carding through the tangles, gently undoing them. You felt a stream of tears running down your chest as you worked your fingers through his strands. Lifting his face gently, you met his teary gaze with your own.

“Don’t…” he drew in a shuddering breath, “ever lie to me like that again…” the monster behind his eyes stirred quietly, a malicious glint in his eye, before shifting back into your gentle boyfriend. 

“Never, I swear to you, baby…” he lets you lift his chin gently to meet your lips. His eyes close and he sighs into your kiss. His muscles relax and when his eyes open again, his warm, adoring expression falls over your face. The hand that wanted to choke the life out of your eyes minutes ago now caresses your jaw tenderly,

“I trust you…” his lips turn up into a grin that’s just a little too wide, “Because you’re a smart girl, aren’t you?” his top lip brushed against your still trembling bottom lip…

“Y-yes…”

You were fucked. This whole situation was fucked up and you weren’t blind to the fact. But as Tamaki nuzzled into your neck placing soft kisses and whispering praises into your skin, you let yourself bask in the gentleness of the moment…

Because you were a smart girl and smart girls learn their lessons quickly... 

[comfortbucky]

requests? did someone say requests??😌

fluffy headcanon, mafia boss!bucky comes home after being away for a week or so and it’s just a cute ass reunion between the reader & him with lots of kisses & hugs n shit

or(take your pick) :)

one shot, where john walker is really rude to reader(insults her & shit), but she stands up for herself. they(her & john) get into a fight & bucky finds out by surprisingly swinging by her apartment. of course bucky is pissed, but he tends to her wounds. then for some stupid reason, john shows up at readers apartment & bucky loses it. but it ends in bucky admitting his feelings to reader n some fluff 😩

hope you find motivation for at least one of these:😚

hi yes hehe i did say requests🙈

i’m a sucker for tfatws!bucky so- (and john walker is a rat bastard🤣 so lemme go off)

𝗶 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚ ⋆

pairing: tfatws!bucky x fem!avenger!reader

warnings: john walker (grr), violence! and descriptions of bloody injuries

A/N: also! i sort of changed the prompt i hope u don’t mind too much🥺 // this oneshot will not be taking place during the canon timeline btw but inspired by the events/themes of tfatws

word count: 1.5 k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

Y/N sighed, as she plopped onto the couch after a long day. She, Bucky, and Sam had spent the whole day researching the Flagsmashers to try and track them down. It took all day, partially because Bucky needed a little extra help with learning how to use his laptop. She chuckled at the memory, grabbing the remote to turn her TV on. Suddenly, a loud, aggressive, knock interrupted her thoughts. She sighed and leaned her head on the back of her couch, taking a moment to debate leaving her very comfortable spot, before getting up to answer the door. Y/N knew that she probably should have peeked through her peephole before answering, but she wanted to return to the comfort of her couch as soon as possible. She opened it to see none other than John Walker, greeting her with a smirk. Y/N rolled her eyes.

“What are you doing here, John? How the hell did you even get my address?”

“All government property has GPS tracking in it," he said, pointing to her laptop on the kitchen table behind her. She turned and frowned as he continued. "Look, you need us, me and Battlestar, to take down Karli.” She looked back at John, laughing at Lemar’s alias.

“No way I’m letting someone who goes by Battlestar help me out.” He glared at her comment. “Or you, a Captain America wannabe.”

John took an aggressive step closer, way too close for Y/N’s comfort, as he replied. “I am Captain America, whether you like it or not.”

"You'll never be Captain America," she snapped back. "You don't have what it takes." He glared at her and put his face right in front of hers.

"How would you know? You're a pathetic excuse for a soldier," he spat and Y/N grimaced at John's spit landing on her cheeks. He looked at her, his eyes examining her body. She hated every second of it, his stare making her feel grimy all over, like she immediately needed a shower. “Who’d you fuck to get into the Avengers anyways? Bet it was Steve.”

John’s comment was immediately followed by Y/N’s fist connecting with his cheek, forcing him to stagger back into the hall. She’d heard concerns about her abilities as an Avenger before, calling her weak, fragile, a bitch, etc. But she knew they almost always came from misogynistic men, and was able to shrug their comments off because she knew that she could easily beat all of them to a pulp, no problem. But thinking that she would sleep her way into becoming an Avenger crossed a line. Especially someone she respected and had admired as much as Steve.

John held his hand to his cheek, where he’d been hit, and looked up to make eye contact with Y/N. He smiled and before stating in a condescending tone, “That was cute.” John kicked her in the stomach, launching her onto the floor of her apartment. As she groaned and started to get up, John chuckled and kicked her down before she got to her knees. He went to kick her again when she rolled away, dodging his kick and standing up quickly, panting as she responded.

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?”

She kicked her leg up to deliver a roundhouse kick to John’s face, spinning around to punch his nose. He stumbled a couple steps back, regaining his balance before swinging a punch towards Y/N. She caught his fist before it hit her and John took the opportunity to use his free hand to grab his shoulder and knee her in the stomach. She gasped, getting the wind knocked out of her. He then threw her into a shelf, shattering several photo frames on the ground. She landed on her stomach, attempting to get up by pushing her self up on her forearms. Y/N felt a warm liquid on her cheek and touched it, pulling it away from her face to see her fingertips covered in blood.

“Asshole,” she mumbled, before standing up to continue fighting.

Several moments ago, Bucky had made the decision to show up at Y/N’s apartment. He pressed some random keys on his computer, and now there was an error message that wouldn’t go away on his screen. Stubbornly, he tried to fix it on his own but ended up making it worse. He sighed in defeat, closing his laptop shut and tucking it under his arm before heading over towards her apartment. Bucky was just down the hall when he heard the sound of glass shattering, his leisurely stroll turning into a sprint to Y/N’s door.

Bucky arrived to see you pinned up against a wall with John’s hand around ur throat. Your hands were desperately clawing at John’s, attempting to free yourself from his grasp. Fear and terror consumed him before a wave of fury took over. Immediately, Bucky launched into action, dropping his laptop in the process. He ripped John away from you, tossing him on the ground. Bucky moved to hover over John, punching him repeatedly in the face. Y/N finally caught her breath and crawled over to Bucky, placing a hand on his shoulder, signaling him to stop. He kept his eyes on John’s bloody and bruised face, lowering his fist.

“Touch her again, and I’ll kill you,” he snarled, releasing John from his grasp.

John rolled over, took a moment to catch his breath. Bucky was standing, fists still clenched by his sides, as he watched John get up and exit Y/N’s apartment without another word.

He closed the door behind him and immediately spun around to see Y/N struggling to get up, attempting to push up from one of her knees. Bucky instantly rushed to her side, helping her to her feet. He grabbed one of her hands in his own and placed his other hand on the small of her back, as he guided her to the couch. He examined her and felt a pain in his chest, looking at her black eye, cut cheek, and her bruised neck outlined with John’s handprint. Without saying a word, he stood up and returned with a first-aid kit from her bathroom. He sat back down and immediately started to tend to her wounds. As Bucky started to disinfect the cut on her cheek, he spoke.

“That was stupid of you,” he mumbled, gently dabbing antiseptic ointment on her cut. It was a drastic contrast from his behavior only minutes ago, nearly ready to murder John. He took a bandaid from the kit and delicately placed it on her cheek. Bucky then moved his hand to assess her black eye, his thumb softly grazing a soft patch of skin under her eye. She frowned and lightly pushed his hand away.

“I would’ve been fine on my own, you know.”

“Sit still so I can take a look at your bruise.” He responded gruffly, lifting his hand and attempting to look at her bruised eye again. She shoved his hand away, this time more aggressively, and tried to stand up.

“Just leave me alone,” Y/N said, wincing and clutching her abdomen in pain, causing Bucky to grab her waist and slowly lower her back down onto the couch. Fucking John Walker.

“Y/N.”

She pulled his hands off her and reluctantly sat down to face him.

“You don’t need to defend me, Bucky,” she spoke, Bucky sensing anger in her voice. “I’m not some weak, helpless civilian. I’m a god damn Avenger for christ sake!” As Y/N shouted, her voice wavered and her eyes started to well up with tears.

Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and Bucky sat with his hands resting on his lap. Although she was speaking to Bucky, she felt like she was more-so trying to convince herself of what she was saying.

“I know,” he said calmly, but with a stern tone, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

“Okay, so leave me alone.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not!”

“Because I fuckin’ care about you!” Bucky shouted, causing Y/N’s face to immediately soften.

Her arms dropped to rest in her lap and she froze as Bucky softly raised his hand to cup her cheek, captivated by his touch. He cautiously moved, worried she would push his hand away again, but she didn’t. His thumb gently caressed her non-cut cheek and he pulled her face close to his. She felt his breaths fan her face as he spoke.

“I know you’re one of the strongest Avengers,” he started. “And I know you could kick John’s ass any day of the week. But I care so much about you and I need you to be okay.” Bucky’s lips hovered over Y/N’s, lightly brushing against hers.

“I need you, Y/N.”

She responded by crashing her lips onto his, moving her hands to hold his face closer to hers. The kiss was full of passion, love, and unspoken feelings. When they broke apart, gasping for air, Y/N smiled at him and ran a hand through his hair.

“I care about you too, Buck.”

Bucky had never seen such a bright light in his 106 years of living.

[mischievoushiddleston]

Movie Night

Words: 1.2 K

Warnings: Smut, Stepfather x Stepdaughter

"I'll see you next week, Y/N. And please try not to get on Tom's nerves. Lord knows you can be pretty annoying sometimes!" Y/N rolled her eyes as her mother called up the stairs. She was going out of town for a week on a business trip. Tom was her stepfather, she could still remember the exact day her mother introduced him to her a year ago. He was sexy, successful and probably the wet dream of just about every woman. Tom was a few years older than her mother. When he smiled at her that day, she couldn't get him out of her mind. But Y/N would never go so far as to even make a move, not even when she accidentally caught him a few days ago. She was in the living room watching a video on YouTube when she heard a noise from upstairs. She took out her headphones. Confused, she quietly walked up the stairs and quietly pushed open the door to Tom's room. She had to bite her lip to keep herself from moaning. He was lying naked on the bed, pumping his cock in his hand, moaning. She couldn't take her eyes off his cock as he pumped it. Y/N felt her hand go to her shirt and knead her breast. Her other hand went down her body into her leggings and under her panties. She touched her wet pussy and bit her lip again. She looked closely and let out a soft gasp. On his laptop screen she could see a girl being fucked senseless by a man and she moaned "Stepdad." She quickly went to her room and fingered herself to orgasm with the thought of her stepfather. Shortly after saying goodbye to her mother, the front door closed and Y/N left her room and walked down the stairs to the living room. "What's for dinner, Daddy?" She asked him. He looked at her startled because Y/N had never called him that before. His eyes wandered over from the TV to Y/N.

"How about pizza?" "Sounds good." She walked over to the sofa and sat down next to him. "Want to watch a movie before we order pizza?" Tom asked and she hummed in agreement. "Any preference on the movie?" "No, not really." She shrugged. He turned on the movie and pulled her into his arm that she was almost sitting on his lap. Her breath caught as she felt his cock slowly harden, rocking hard against my pussy. His hand settled on her waist and Y/N bit her lip as his hand moved higher just below her breast. They both sit still for a few minutes watching the movie as a sex scene begins. She begins to wiggle in his lap and moaned softly at the erotic scene in the movie. Tom pulled her closer and began grinding his hard erection against her butt. "Did you think I didn't notice how you let your hand wander into your pants when you saw me masturbating?" He stops grinding against her and she lets out a whimper. He slowly caresses her body and his hand drifts down to her hair. He grabs her hair and whispers in her ear. "Do you want your daddy to fuck you?" She moaned at the dirty words. "Yes Daddy, I want your cock inside me." He grinned and spun her around on his lap. "You're a naughty little girl, aren't you?" "Your naughty girl daddy." He slides down her pants and into her panties. "Your pussy is so wet. You want to get fucked by your daddy, don't you?" "Yes, Daddy." moaned Y/N. "Good girl." He whispered, sliding his fingers over her pussy. Tom held his fingers in front of her face, and she licked them hungrily. Without a word, he suddenly slides his fingers back into her panties and pussy and she moans loudly. He starts to thrust. She felt her orgasm building and he started rubbing her clit. "Oh yes Daddy, please, please, please give me more." He grinned and added another finger. She moaned loudly. "Daddy, please, make me come, please Daddy." But just as she reached her climax, he pulled his fingers away. He pushed her down on the couch and slowly went lower and lower, then pulled her shirt off her body. He ripped off her bra and gently kissed her breasts. He continued to wander down her body and gently kiss her pussy. Suddenly he pushed his tongue into her pussy, licking it and sucking on her clit. She arched her back, gasping for air and shaking from the pleasure running through her body. She began to tremble. "Daddy, I'm going to cum!" Y/N cried out and he pulled his tongue away and quickly slaps her pussy playfully. She whimpered, desperate to come. "Not yet, little slut. I want you to fuck my cock first." She bit her lip and nodded. He teased her sensitive pussy with his cock and moaned, "You're so wet little slut." Y/N stared deep into his lust-filled eyes. "Daddy, please fuck me. I'm such a little slut, I need to be punished. I want you to fuck me whenever you want. I'll always be your little whore, Daddy." Tom moaned loudly. "Good girl." He pulled her head up and kissed her. He slowly started pushing his cock into her, and Y/N moaned loudly, playing with her clit. He thrust hard and his cock filled her pussy completely. She screamed with pleasure and Tom grinned. He started thrusting slowly and then harder and harder. "Oh God...Daddy." She moaned. "I love fucking your tight, wet pussy." He moaned. Tom wrapped his hand around her throat and thrust roughly and relentlessly into her pussy. "I hope you like your punishment, because Daddy is going to punish you a lot for seducing him." She gasped and he tightened his grip. She screamed again in delight, not caring if the neighbors heard her. "Oh god, yes daddy, please fuck me harder, I'm going to cum daddy." "Such a good little slut, you love Daddy's cock, don't you?" "Yes, Daddy." He fucked her harder and harder and she arched hers. Tom moaned and pushed his cock into her pussy. "Come little whore, come on your daddy's cock." She shuddered and felt her orgasm building as he thrust his cock relentlessly into her. Y/N moaned and her orgasm flooded her body. But he didn't stop, Tom kept fucking her, pushing his cock into her sensitive pussy. Finally he pulled out of her and pushed her onto her knees and Tom quickly stroked his cock. His cum filled her mouth and she swallowed it. He picked Y/N up and walked up the stairs, "Let's get you cleaned up and then we'll order pizza, after all the week just started..." Tom smiled and she snuggled against his chest.

Tag-List is open!

@smoke-and-sunset @everybitch @coco-puffses @1marvelnerd3000

[evilwickedme]

I have a question!!! I really like your fics so I wanted to ask how you find the time/motivation to write your fics? I’m still in the thought process of planning the plot of my very first one and it feels so daunting. Is there any specific process or method you do when you write? Sometimes I get around to writing and I only get a few hundred words in before I’m exhausted. I’d love your advice :)

Hey thank you for asking this and for enjoying my writing!

I'd love it if there were any easy answer to this question, but the truth is the answer is simple and really fucking hard: to write a lot, you just have to write. Sometimes it's going to be easy, other times it's going to be hard. Sometimes I start writing and I blink and suddenly there's two thousand words on the page, other times I sit and stare at my screen for hours and all I've written is two sentences. And I'm not the first one to say this by any means, but the secret is - it's all writing. All of it is writing, even when you end up not writing anything.

Here's the thing though, is that I decided I wanted to be a writer when I was seven years old. I've kept a journal off an on for almost two decades. I wrote poetry for elementary school assignments and I had a blog for my writing in middle school and I wrote short stories for high school projects and I started writing fic when I was 14 and I published my poetry book last year at the age of 24 and it was all just writing and writing and writing. I went through dry spells when I was depressed that last months or even years and I've had periods where I was writing so much it's a wonder I kept up with it. And then I got a degree in screenwriting, where I HAD to write because such and such amount of pages were due by such and such a date, and the industry doesn't care if you're in a rut and neither did my professors.

Nowadays, writing is basically a habit. I have so many poems in my phone notes, because I'll have a thought on the go and suddenly there's a poem - so many phone poems ended up in my book, fyi, some of them barely edited. I can force myself to write something halfway decent just by sitting myself down in front of a Word doc, because I have the neural pathways set up that way from, oh, 18 years of writing. So a lot of my methods regarding writing involve just being like, okay, today I'm going to write something.

For example, I just published the final chapter of the mental health fic in my DC series, which is for now probably going to be the final work in that series (I have a couple more ideas, but they're shelved right now). That final chapter was sitting in my Google drive with about two sentences written in it for weeks, and it was weighing on me. I haven't been feeling very creative recently - I'm fully aware I'm in burnout - but I hate the feeling of being uncreative, so I said to myself, okay, let's fucking finish this. It took a couple of tries - first try I ended up only writing a paragraph describing what everyone was wearing and that's it - but eventually, just the act of me being in front of my laptop rather than facing a tv or buried in my phone made it so I finished it.

There's a story I heard when I was a kid that I can't find right now that basically informed my entire life philosophy, which was this kid went to a baseball game and met his favorite player who agreed to sign a ball for him, but nobody had a pen. Not him, not his parents, not the player, nobody that passed them by in the stadium, none of them had pens. Devastated, he started carrying a pen around with him everywhere. The final quote goes something like, "and if you carry a pen with you everywhere, eventually you start using it." And then he started writing.

To put it another way. In January, I only read two books. And the thing is, like, I genuinely really like reading. Like it's one of my favorite things in the whole wide world. And I asked myself, why didn't I read in January. And again, I know I'm in burnout, I know that's why I watched all that mediocre TV. But I didn't enjoy it? Like at all? So I looked at all that time I spent watching criminal minds and on TikTok and Tumblr and in February I made a concerted effort to read. When I sat down in my living room I asked myself what I was planning to do with my free time, and I realized often the "plan" was just to scroll through TikTok for six hours. So I listened to a five hour audiobook instead. Or read a 300 page book. Or finished a manga I was in the middle of. Or... And I read nine books in February! Which is not a lot for some people, I know, but what an improvement on January!

My point is, if you want to be doing something and you're not doing it, ask yourself why you're not doing it. I found that the time I was spending not-reading and not-writing wasn't getting used up by cooking or cleaning or going to work or meeting up with friends. It wasn't even being spent on something relaxing that I enjoy, like watching a comfort show. In November when I wrote the vast majority of hang on 'til the chaos is through I simply did not spend as much time on Tumblr or on TikTok cause I was writing instead. After I was finished with that, however, I pivoted so hard in the other direction that I didn't do anything I enjoyed at all in an effort to relax. That's honestly not even that relaxing.

So like, here's the thing. When it comes to my "method" of writing it varies so much that it's actually not worth listing out. With hang on the whole fucking thing was outlined in detail. With Of Three Times Lily Evans Changed Her Mind About James Potter I had the endgame in mind and a couple scenes written in advance, but the whole thing got written over 4.5 years and I was improv-ing basically the entire time. With I'm a mess (but I'm the mess that you wanted) I was texting @random-fandork in the middle of the night like, what if next chapter I did this, and they responded with ooh what if you did this, and it got written so fucking fast because we were constantly exchanging ideas. With the timkon jealousy au I just know I want Kon to be jealous of timber, and that's legit all I know, I'm absolutely pantsing it.

Sometimes I write with music. I have character playlists I usually listen to just like any other playlists, but also get used to write sometimes, but I only made my first character playlist around a year ago and I've obviously been writing fic for way more than that. Sometimes music helps get in the mood or helps distract from outside noises, and sometimes it distracts you from finding the right words. I usually write in bed, but I usually do everything in bed because I have chronic back pain. I usually write at home, but I also write in my phone on the go.

But I think you get it, right? Like there is no method. I certainly don't have one. Terry Pratchett famously wrote 300 words every day. I don't know what Erin Morgenstern is doing while working on book three, but I promise you it's not 300 words a day because it was six years between The Night Circus and The Starless Sea and it's been four more years and we still haven't gotten our spring or summer book. Every person finds they work best in different environments - I've tried to write in coffee shops and libraries, it's just close to impossible for me, but for others it's the only way to get motivated. But the point is the stories don't write themselves. Everyone loses steam, everyone gets in a rut, everyone writes bad things that they don't like and scraps them or edits them so thoroughly that they become unrecognizable. But things only get written because you write them, and they'll only get done if you keep at it.

My assumption is that you enjoy telling stories. Yeah, writing is hard, sticking to something is hard, finding motivation to write when you're tired or depressed is hard. But if you don't write, it's not going to get written. So I just try to remember that I enjoy storytelling. That I would be having more fun working on my teacher!peter/dadpool au than watching criminal minds (seriously, I'm not going to finish this show, 2.5 seasons was more than enough; sorry to keep shitting on it but I spent much of January watching it and honestly I've never considered watching a show a waste of time but this was an absolute waste of time).

I also want to reiterate that it's okay if you sit down to write and all you write is a couple hundred words! It's okay if you only wrote two! The turtle wins the race after all - you just gotta keep at it. Just remembere that if you write ten words enough times, you end up with a whole ass book.

[dreamkidddream]

Congrats for 800 Dream! 🎊🎉 may I ask 6 for Oda with a fem reader? #Odadeservesomuchlove

Thankssss 💙 I wholeheartedly agree with this hashtag and will rep it even after death put it on my tombstone (and I will be reviving the Kunikida and Oda deserve more love club because they still do 😤😤) and I went back to school this week so this really resonated with me because it’s stressful :,) (can you tell cause look at how long this took to post lmao 🥲)

“College AU” Trope with Oda!

Dream’s 800 Follower Special 📖

It is currently 2:07 in the morning, and you are on the brink of tears.

You didn’t feel them coming on at first, and when you did, you thought it was from you yawning so much and staring at a bright screen for the past- you blinked away the tears again- seven hours and counting. Out of the 15 pages assigned, you made it to page number eight, and then you hit a mental roadblock. Maybe it was because the paper was due in less than 12 hours, or how your stomach rumbled for real food and not the small snacks you ate hours ago, your pounding headache, forcing to type through your cramping hands, running on fumes- a combination of it all and more, honestly. And while the library was gracious and understanding enough to have late hours for the students, they weren’t open 24 hours, and would be closing soon. No library means no computer, as your laptop was currently getting fixed. No computer means no assignment, and no assignment means failing.

You chuckled at your stupidity. If you just managed your time better and had started on this earlier like you planned, then this all could have been avoided. You tried, you really did- but some of these professors all had the same idea to pile everything up last minute before winter break. You’re highly convinced that this is the start of your villain origin story.

You kept laughing and shaking your head, rubbing at the tears now consistently streaming down your face. You’re tired and you just want to cry yourself to sleep to forget about this whole thing and just cut your losses. At least after crying your eyes out, you’ll get the best sleep you’ve been missing out on for weeks. You’ll fail the class and will have to register for it again next semester, but on the brighter side you’ll try to be better prepared. Your graduation will get pushed back and your pride will be hurt and you’ll feel like a failure, but what else can you do-

“Here.”

The gasp and pure shock that shot through your body had your tears on standby. You clutched at your chest and jolted when you met cobalt-blue eyes. When did he- how much did he see?!

You don’t know how long you just stared mortified at the fact that the student worker- who you just recognized to be Oda- your class study buddy that you forgot works in the library part time (how could you considering he practically lives here)- just witnessed your meltdown, but you felt something warm enclose around your balled fist- his own hand. You felt his fingers ever so delicately unwrap your fingers and place something soft into it. A napkin, you realized. And then he slid a small container in front of you, “I warmed this up in the back so you can eat too.”

“No- Oda look, I am so sorry about this.” You pushed the bowl back his way. “I know- I know you guys are about to close and I’m so sorry that I’m the reason you’re still here, and I swear that I’ll be done in-“

“I’m not worried about that.” He pushed the container back your way, and you were starting to smell the aroma it was giving off, your stomach growling in anticipation. Your need to crawl into a hole until your existence is forgotten about just grew even more. And instead of him leaving- he pulled out the chair next to you and took a seat. “Um, you really didn’t have to do this, but…did you need something from me?”

He shook his head.

Then your heart dropped at another realization. “…it’s almost time to close isn’t it?”

He nodded his head, and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you began to close your books-

“But you don’t have to leave.”

You were just about to close out of your work when you froze. “Huh?”

“You don’t have to leave because you need help, and I’m here to help. But only after you take a break and eat something first- you’ve haven’t moved from this spot in hours.”

Was it that long? Must’ve been if you didn’t even notice that he was still here, “Help?”

He nodded his head once more, “You’re overwhelmed right now, and I could read over what you have so far if you want.”

“Really? You would do that?” It was no secret that Oda’s an amazing writer, and from the graded papers and exams given back over the weeks, someone that knows exactly what they’re doing. “But- I don’t want you to get in trouble with your boss.”

“It’s fine. It’s for you, so I don’t mind.”

You could feel your eyes glistening with tears again-

“After you take a break though.” He stated, going to the door and flipping the sign to closed, locking the door. He already cut off majority of the lights except for the one in your little corner. A quick look at your phone showed the time to be close to 3, but he already made his way back to you and rolled your chair out, taking your place in front of the computer.

His face didn’t change, but his tone softened as he faced you and gently placed his hand onto of your head. “You’ve been working hard (Y/N), it’s okay to take a break and it’s okay to ask for help. I told you can always come to me for anything and I mean it.”

And you know he did. Throughout the whole semester, he has been nothing but kind to you. Even outside of class he would go out of his way to check on you, ranging from eating lunch together or just having him walk you to class. He didn’t have to do any of it and he still chose to- you sniffled and wiped away at your tears, nodding your head, weakly smiling.

You guys didn’t leave until the sun was starting to peer through the windows, and you could barely keep your eyes open as you both walked back to the dorms. The anxiety of what your grade will be was still looming over your head, but it was a problem for when you wake up.

Right now, you were focused on how needed this sleep was, and how warm his fingers felt when they brushed against your own. It felt even better when he grabbed your hand and slightly squeezed, not letting go for the rest of the way.

—

Oda was putting away books lost in his own thoughts (of you) when he heard the footsteps approaching. Footsteps that were approaching quickly. Like someone was running-

By the time he turned around, he caught you in his arms as you practically tackled him. Luckily he was quick with his reflexes and encircled his own arms around you to make sure that you stayed on your feet, but it didn’t really help when you kept jumping around anyways.

He ignored the looks and glares that you were getting from other students and just concentrated on you, how your eyes was sparkling with your excited rambling. He may not have understood what exactly you were saying with how fast you were going, but from the papers you were waving around, he got the gist of it. He forgot that final grades were in today.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou! You are a lifesaver, Oda! Just- thank you so much!”

“I didn’t save your life. I didn’t really do anything-“

“Are you kidding me?! Look at this!” You shoved the papers in his face, and he spotted the bright red circled A at the top. Even if his face wasn’t showing it, he really was proud of you, his eyes softening was any proof. He seemed to be doing that a lot more when he’s around you. “I couldn’t have done it without you, seriously. Just-“

Oda was one to not get caught off guard. If he ever does, it’s rare. He makes sure to not show it as much if he ever is.

So when he felt your lips pressed against his cheek, his breath hitched and he tensed up. But he recovered when he saw your own frozen expression, reading to unravel your arms from around him and apologize- but he just held you there and brought you closer, slowly closing the distance between you both.

He would take you outside eventually- this is a library after all and his shift is almost up- but not until he gets a few more kisses from you. Just a few more, he reminds himself, but he can’t get enough of the taste of your lips- and he can’t get enough of you.

[argylesweedstash]

did you just call me baby

(ao3 link)

The first time it happens, it’s an accident. At least, Dean’s banking on Castiel thinking it’s an accident. And it is, really. Dean fell onto the war room floor covered in black goo with his arms around Cas. Sam and Jack leapt up from the table, moving away from the intricate spellwork that no longer needed their attention.

Cas stirred a little. He’d been out of it when Dean had found him - half-lucid and mostly disbelieving. He’d let Dean pull him up and sling his arm around his shoulders, but hadn’t said much. Only mumbled apologies and words that sounded a lot like, “I hope this is real.”

Jack was first on the floor next to them. “Cas?” he asked, a tentative smile playing on his lips. Cas nodded and within seconds, his arms were full of his son.

Dean watched them, a smile playing on his lips. When they broke apart, Sam offered Castiel his arm. Cas had looked at it before taking it and being pulled into a hug by the taller man.

Dean removed himself from the floor and helped Jack up. When Sam released Cas, Dean stepped in front of him.

“It’s real,” Dean said, looking into Cas’s eyes.

Cas nodded. “Thank you for saving me, Dean.”

Dean finally closed the distance between them and pulled Cas into a bone crushing hug.

“I missed you, baby,” Dean muttered against Cas. When he realized that he’d said baby instead of buddy, he could feel heat rising to his cheeks. He removed himself from Cas and grinned sheepishly at the floor. There was a weird fluttering feeling in his chest. He wrote it off as the adrenaline that was still pumping through his veins.

Cas, for what it was worth, didn’t seem to notice the word. “I missed you, too, Dean.”

-

That was two weeks ago. Since then, Dean has been avoiding talking about it. Not just his slip, though, the things Cas had said to him before The Empty came and took him. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t feel the same way - he just didn’t know if he did or not. He likes Cas and he’s his best friend. He knows he likes spending time with him. Sometimes he’s overwhelmed by how fond of his friend he is, but he doesn’t read too far into that.

Plus, things hadn’t changed between them. They still watched movies together in the Dean Cave a couple nights a week. Castiel would always come and join Dean in the garage when he was working on any of the cars they kept. Dean would greet him with a, “Good morning, Sunshine,” every morning from his place at the table. The only thing that had changed was that they didn’t have the end of the world looming over their heads. Honestly, this is the happiest he’s been in a long time. Getting Cas back meant that they’d tied up their loose ends and now they could relax. Of course Dean had never felt this happy, they’d never so resolutely saved the world like they did this time around.

Dean is sitting at the table, now, staring at the laptop screen in front of him. There were still monsters, there might still be a case somewhere. In the back of his head Dean knows he doesn’t really want to find a case. He’s been enjoying his time with Cas and Sam. He likes that the most pressing thing he has to worry about is whether or not the fridge is stocked. He knows Sam has been getting stir crazy, though. Maybe he’ll find a case and send Sam off, encourage him to get Eileen in on it.

The sound of footsteps draws Dean’s attention away from the laptop. Castiel pads into the room. He’s wearing one of Dean’s hand-me-down shirts, even though he hasvclothing of his own. Part of pulling Cas out of The Empty meant leaving his grace behind. Jack had been pretty clear - Cas’s grace was the reason Jack was unable to just pull him out. So, here Cas is, as human as Dean, wearing Dean’s shirt. A smile threatens to break on Dean’s face.

“What’re you up to?” Dean asks.

Cas turns to face him. Dean notices toothpaste stuck to the corner of Cas’s mouth, he must have just finished brushing his teeth.

“It’s almost lunch time,” Cas says. “I was going to make myself something. Are you hungry? I can make enough for two.”

Dean shakes his head. “Just ate,” he says. “You, uh -” He gestures vaguely at Cas’s mouth.

“I what?” Cas asks, tilting his head a little.

“Baby,” Dean starts as he gets up from his chair to walk over to Castiel. “You have some toothpaste. Right there.”

Cas stares at Dean, wide eyed. Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes and grabs a napkin from the table. He wipes at Castiel’s mouth before he crumples the napkin and walks it over to the trash. Cas watches his movements.

“What?” Dean asks when he notices Cas staring at him. It’s not that he minds, Cas just looks a little lost.

Cas just shakes his head and puts a smile on his face. “Nothing. Thank you, Dean. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s part of being human, man. No worries,” Dean says, depositing himself back in his chair. “You gonna eat in here?”

“Yes, of course,” Cas says, finally moving from where he was stopped.

Dean nods in his direction before he pats the chair next to him, smiling up at his friend. He returns to his research as Cas busies himself in the kitchen.

-

Two days later, Sam is gone to go after a nest of vamps and Eileen’s place just happens to be on the way there. Dean isn’t quite sure why Sam hasn’t just asked her to move in. He’s pretty sure Sam had refrained before because Dean had been a wreck with Cas gone. It was probably better for Dean and Eileen’s relationship that she hadn’t seen him like that. But now, there was no reason for her not to be here. She was family, after all.

Dean knocks on Cas’s door, ending his stream of thoughts. Dean was kind of bored and he hadn’t taken Cas anywhere but the supermarket since they’d brought him back. And, come to think of it, Dean couldn’t remember the last time just he and Cas had gone out for drinks.

Cas answers the door already dressed. “Dean. I was actually coming to look for you.”

“Well, I found ya first,” Dean says, putting an easy smile on his face. “Was gonna see if you wanted to come grab a drink with me. Looks like you’re going somewhere, though.” He didn’t want to press, but where on earth could Cas be going? It wasn’t like he really knew anyone around here outside of Sam and Dean. And if someone they knew was in town, why hadn’t Dean heard of it?

The ends of Cas’s lips turn up slightly. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Dean lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and beams at Castiel. “It’s a date, then. Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you at Baby.”

Cas nods at Dean’s retreating figure and mumbles, “It’s a date,” before shutting his door to walk to the car.

Dean meets him there a few minutes later. “Had to grab my keys,” he says, holding them up for Cas to see.

The drive to the bar passes in comfortable silence, Cas staring out the window at the passing buildings. Dean drums his fingers on his steering wheel. He glances to Cas a few times; he almost can’t believe Cas is really back. He’d been gone for two months. Dean had spent most of that time frantically reading through every lore book and the rest drinking until he couldn’t remember the pain. It had been Jack that finally suggested opening the rift and leaving Cas’s grace behind. Dean had been ready to go almost immediately.

Now that Castiel was back, Dean felt better than he had in years. A warm feeling had settled over him after they fell through the rift and it stayed around. Whenever he was with Cas he could only describe the we he felt as “content.” Like now, for example, he could drive all night like this and be pleased with the way he spent his evening.

They pull in and Dean holds the door to the bar open so Cas can walk through. “Grab us a table and I’ll get drinks,” he says, clapping his hand over his shoulder and walking past him to the bar.

He gets the bartender’s attention pretty quickly. “Hey, Lynn. Slow night?” he asks.

She rolls her eyes at him and pushes a stray strand of blonde hair out of her face. “It’s a Wednesday, what do you expect?” She gives a little chuckle and leans against the bar. “Where’s your brother?”

“Sammy’s with his girlfriend. Won’t be back for a few days,” Dean says easily. “Left me alone with Cas over there.”

Lynn looks past him at Castiel, who is seated at a booth in the corner. He’s looking around the mostly empty bar, seemingly taking in the neon signs advertising different kinds of alcohol. He’s wearing one of Dean’s flannels, Dean realizes belatedly.

“He’s cute,” Lynn says. She turns her attention back to the man in front of her. “What can I get for you two?”

“Two beers,” he says. And then, as an afterthought, “And two shots of your top shelf whiskey.”

She grins. “Celebrating something?”

“Come to think of it, yeah,” Dean says. “He, uh.” He looks for the words. “Just got back from a work trip. Gone for a couple of months.” That sounds like a good cover.

“I bet he’s happy to be home,” Lynn says, setting the beers in front of Dean before turning to grab a bottle from the shelf behind her. “You seem happy that he’s back.”

It’s Dean’s turn to grin. “I’m freaking thrilled. Dude’s my best friend.”

Lynn slides the now filled shot glasses toward Dean. “Want a tray to carry all that?”

Dean doesn’t get to answer before she’s sliding a tray toward him. “You need a tray,” she says, putting the drinks onto it. “I know you were going to try to carry all this over there without one.”

Dean thanks her and slides the tray onto his left arm, steadying it with his right hand. He turns toward the booth Cas is in and flashes him a smile while he lifts the tray slightly, indicating the beverages.

“That my shirt?” he says when he gets to the table. He sets a beer and a shot down in front of Cas.

Cas looks down at the flannel and then back at Dean in a way Dean can only describe as bashful. “Yes. It must have gotten mixed in with my laundry. I can return it, if you want.”

“Keep it. Looks better on you anyway.” Dean picks his shot up and motions for Cas to do the same. “We’re celebrating, Cas.”

Cas picks up his shot and looks at Dean curiously. “What are we celebrating?”

“You’re back!”

Cas smiles warmly. “I am,” he nods. “Thanks to you.”

“Well, Sam and Jack helped,” Dean says, grinning.

“To humanity,” Cas says, raising the shot.

“To humanity,” Dean echos before taking the shot.

Cas makes a face after he downs his and raises his beer to his lips to chase the taste away.

“You’ve not had a drink since you got back,” Dean remarks, watching Cas take a few long drinks from the bottle.

“You haven’t either,” he replies.

Dean contemplates the statement. “Really?” He takes a sip of his beer. “I guess I’ve just been busy.”

They both know that isn’t really true. Dean’s only been engaging in leisurely activities, he’s just not been drinking during them. He wonders for a moment why that might be. It’s probably because he doesn’t have any pain he needs to ignore, he thinks.

“Your tolerance is going to be shit.”

Cas shrugs. “I’m a cheap date.”

Dean looks at him for a moment before laughing. Cas gives him a genuine smile before returning to his beer.

Several beers later, Dean cuts himself off. Someone has to drive home and Cas is more than a little giggly on the bench across from him. He takes a sip of his third beer and gives Dean a measured look.

“What?” Dean asks, putting a soft smile on his face. “See something you like?”

“Yes,” Cas says.

Dean grins back at him. There’s a tug somewhere in his chest, but he ignores it. “Anything on your mind?”

Cas just looks at Dean, clearly deep in thought. “Not really, no.”

Dean laughs and shakes his head. “Want another?”

Cas’s beer is still half full. “Another what?”

“Another drink. Or another shot.”

“Another shot might be nice, actually.”

Dean smiles at him. “That’s my boy. I’ll be right back.”

He returns to the bar and waits for Lynn to walk over to him.

“Two more?” she asks.

“Just another shot,” Dean says. “I’m driving but huggy bear over there can have whatever he wants.”

Lynn shakes her head and pours another. “You two been together long? I haven’t seen him in here.”

Dean blinks back at her and then looks down at the shot. “Actually we, uh, we haven’t talked about… that. Being together.”

She frowns at Dean and he takes a breath. He hadn’t been avoiding it, really. He and Cas had just fallen back into their comfortable rhythm.

“He doesn’t know how you feel, does he?” Lynn asks. She looks a little sad now.

“I guess he doesn’t,” Dean says thoughtfully.

“You should tell him.”

Dean looks up at her.

“Not tonight, though. He should probably be sober.”

Dean nods and grabs the shot. “Thanks, Lynn.”

He sets the shot down across from Cas when he gets back to the table. “For you.”

Cas downs the shot as Dean settles back down across from him. “What were you two talking about?”

Dean stares at Cas. He knows he shouldn’t lie but if he says anything Cas may actually want to talk about his feelings and Dean isn’t ready for that. He doesn’t really have words and he’s not even sure he’s fully processed Cas’s confession yet. And, Lynn was probably right. Cas should be sober for that particular conversation.

“Sam,” Dean lies easily. “This is where we come for drinks. Neither of us have been by in a while.”

Cas accepts the lie and sips from his beer before starting a conversation about Jack and the prospect of weekly family dinners.

By the time Cas had finished his beer the shot he’d taken seems to hit him. “Dean.”

“Cas.”

“I’d like another shot.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “You can get it.”

Cas frowns at Dean before swinging his legs to the end of the booth to pull himself out. He pushes himself up on the table and wobbles a little before Dean is up and at his side, steadying him.

“When you don’t stand it hits you all at once,” Dean explains. He’s gripping Cas’s bicep and shoulder.

“I know how drinking works, Dean. I spend all my time with you.”

Dean chuckled low in his throat. “How about we get you home?”

“Can I drink there?”

Dean turns Cas to face him fully. “Hell yeah, you can.”

“You’ll be drinking, too?”

“Well, yeah. I won’t have to drive us anywhere. Can’t let you have all the fun.”

Dean walks Cas to the Impala and deposits him in the passenger’s seat. “I’ll be right back, baby. I have to pay the tab.”

Cas stares at Dean for a moment before opening and promptly closing his mouth.

“I’ll leave the door open in case you hurl. And I’ll get a bag from Lynn.”

Dean returns to see Cas has closed the door and is currently slumped against it, sleeping. He rolls his eyes and drives him home, careful to avoid the bumps on the road. When they get home, he shakes Cas awake.

“‘Morning, Sunshine.”

“It’s not morning, Dean,” Cas replies groggily.

“Nope,” Dean says, leaning over to pull Cas out of the car. “Let’s get you to your room.”

They make their way through the bunker slowly. Dean sits Cas down and gets him out of his shoes and, after a brief moment of hesitation, his jeans. Once he’s gotten Cas under the blankets, he gets a glass of water from the kitchen and a few tylenol from the bottle he has stashed in his room.

“Alright,” he says, setting everything down on Cas’s night stand. “Take the tylenol when you wake up. You’re probably going to be hungover. And drink some water, okay?”

“Yes, Dean,” says the Cas sized lump under the covers.

“Let me know if you need anything else, okay? I’m right down the hall.”

Dean turns to leave but Cas makes a noise. Dean turns back around.

“Thank you for taking me out tonight, Dean. I had fun.”

Dean smiles. “I had fun, too. Get some sleep, baby.”

He flicks out Cas’s lights and reminds himself to stop calling Cas buddy. The dude loves him and Dean’s probably making it hurt or something. Plus, he’d accidentally called him baby when he’d first gotten back from The Empty. Dean’s probably sending him mixed signals. He shuts the door behind him and walks to his room; he knows he should probably figure out what to say to Cas. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure that meant poking at that warm, fluttery feeling that seemed to be permanently in his chest.

-

Sam returns from the hunt a week later. He assures Dean it was an easy hunt and that he and Eileen hadn’t needed any help. He also admits to spending a few days with Eileen after they’d taken out the nest.

“How is she, anyway?” Dean asks, handing a beer to Sam and setting one on the end table next to Cas. They’d been watching old western’s in the Dean Cave when Sam got home. Cas had wanted to spend the day watching movies and Dean had agreed on the condition that he got to pick the movie.

“She’s good. She misses you two,” Sam answers.

“Tell her to get her ass out here,” Dean says. “She’s family at this point, man. She should be here, anyway. It would make hunts easier.”

Sam shook his head, smiling. “That’s the first hunt I’ve been on since we beat Chuck. You still haven’t been out.”

“Hey, I’m keeping Cas company. He’s still newly human,” Dean argues.

“You could go hunt if you want, Dean. I’m capable of taking care of myself. I don’t mind,” Cas says from the couch. Dean looks over at him and shakes his head.

“Nah, you’ve been back less than a month. We gotta make sure you have your sea legs before I go anywhere, baby.”

The words left his mouth effortlessly. Sam and Cas just stared at him for a second before Sam coughed.

“It’s great seeing you guys but I’m going to go shower and pass out for a few hours,” he says before making a quick exit toward his room.

“Fine, Sammy. We didn’t want to hang out with you, anyway,” Dean shoots back before collapsing onto his side of the couch.

He hits play on the movie and settles in. He has his own bottle of beer pressed to his lips when Cas speaks.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?” he replies, lowering the bottle from his lips.

Cas is quiet for a moment. “Why do you keep calling me ‘baby’?” he asks carefully.

Dean stares back at him. “I only called you that once,” he says, on guard now. Had it slipped out again? He didn’t think it had but now he’s not so confident. He sets his beer bottle down.

“No, you’ve done it five times.” So, it had slipped out again. More than once. “You did just now before Sam left.”

Dean is silent, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t even realized it had come out. “I’m sorry,” he finally decides, lowering his gaze from Cas’s stare for a brief moment.

“I don’t mind it,” Cas says quietly. He’s looking somewhere to the left of Dean, his eyes occasionally flickering to Dean’s face. “I thought you were doing it on purpose, is all.”

Dean can’t seem to form a fully coherent thought. He knows he needs to say something - mention Cas’s confession, maybe. But he doesn’t have the words for that yet. Instead he says, “Do you want me to stop?”

“I want you to do it on purpose,” Cas says, looking down. Dean can see the beginnings of pink on the top of his ears. He’s overwhelmed with an ache somewhere in his chest.

Dean doesn’t know why, but he slides in close to Cas. He reaches his hand out and lifts his chin so their eyes meet. “Anything you want, baby,” he says, softly. The fluttering in his chest is more insistent now.

He hears Cas’s breath hitch. Cas closes and opens his eyes before saying. “Can I ask something?”

“Of course,” Dean says, his hand still resting on Cas’s chin.

“Will you kiss me?”

Before Dean registers what he’s doing, he nods and ducks his head in. The kiss is chaste and quick but Cas leans in and responds gently. When they break, there’s a soft smile on Cas’s face.

“Cas,” Dean says, moving his hand to Cas’s cheek. “I, uh. I need to talk to you about. About what you said. Before you… Ya know.”

“When I told you I loved you?” Cas supplies, his eyes half-lidded.

“Yeah,” Dean says, chuckling lightly. “I. I think I do, too. I just haven’t -”

“You don’t have to say anything, Dean. You know that.”

Dean brings his mouth gently back to Cas’s and kisses him again. This time just a little longer, his other hand finding Cas’s waist.

“It was just so easy when you got back,” Dean says when he pulls away. He tries to find any string of words that expresses how he feels. “I didn’t think I needed to say anything but…”

Cas stares at Dean, encouraging him to keep going. Dean can feel his face heating up.

“Lynn asked how long we’d been together,” he says, lamely. “The bartender,” he adds.

“I didn’t get to meet her but I remember her name.”

Dean smiles at him and takes a breath before speaking. “And I told her we hadn’t talked about it. And she looked really sad. I realized I do need to say something.”

They’re silent for a moment and then Dean says. “Holy shit. That was a date.”

Cas looks confused. “You told me it was a date.”

“I did?”

“Yes. When I said yes to going with you, you said ‘it’s a date.’” Cas says.

Dean shakes his head. “It’s… It’s an expression, Cas,” he says. Then, “But, uh, that was a date. I think.”

“Dean. Did you want it to be a date?” Cas asks. His voice is lined with both patience and amusement.

Dean pauses for a minute before saying, “Yeah. That was our first date.” He leans in and presses another kiss to Cas’s mouth.

Cas kisses back and then pulls away a little. “Would you like to go on a second date?”

Dean makes a show of thinking. He hums lightly.

“Dean.”

“Yeah, Cas. I do,” he places a kiss on the side of Cas’s mouth before he drops his hand. “I, uh, I don’t really know what to say but… You can have me, if you want. You’re just going to have to work with me. I don’t really know what I’m doing here.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Cas says.

Dean places a kiss on Cas’s cheek before he turns back to the TV and starts the movie. Cas reaches across to grab his hand, intertwining their fingers in the space between them.

“Hey, baby?”

Cas’s head pops up in response to the pet name, there’s a faint smile on his lips. “Yes, Dean?”

“I love you.”

Cas beams at him before replying, “I love you, too.”

Dean turns his head back toward the TV but spends a better part of the rest of the movie sneaking glances at Cas. He indulges the warm feeling in his chest, even if he doesn’t quite have the words for everything yet.

[spine-buster]

Patience is a Virtue ft. Matthew Tkachuk | 𝒯𝑒𝓂𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒

CONTENT WARNING: this story deals with cults, polygamous cults, escaping cults, strict adherence to religion, gender roles, abuse, miscarriage, and a character with a traumatic past. ̲𝖳̲𝗁̲𝗂̲𝗌̲ ̲𝖼̲𝗁̲𝖺̲𝗉̲𝗍̲𝖾̲𝗋̲ ̲𝗌̲𝗉̲𝖾̲𝖼̲𝗂̲𝖿̲𝗂̲𝖼̲𝖺̲𝗅̲𝗅̲𝗒̲ ̲𝗁̲𝖺̲𝗌̲ ̲𝗆̲𝖾̲𝗇̲𝗍̲𝗂̲𝗈̲𝗇̲𝗌̲ ̲𝖺̲𝗇̲𝖽̲ ̲𝖽̲𝖾̲𝖺̲𝗅̲𝗌̲ ̲𝗐̲𝗂̲𝗍̲𝗁̲ ̲𝗍̲𝗋̲𝖺̲𝗎̲𝗆̲𝖺̲ ̲𝖺̲𝗋̲𝗂̲𝗌̲𝗂̲𝗇̲𝗀̲ ̲𝖿̲𝗋̲𝗈̲𝗆̲ ̲𝗆̲𝗂̲𝗌̲𝖼̲𝖺̲𝗋̲𝗋̲𝗂̲𝖺̲𝗀̲𝖾̲𝗌̲ ̲𝖺̲𝗇̲𝖽̲ ̲𝗌̲𝖾̲𝗑̲𝗎̲𝖺̲𝗅̲ ̲𝖺̲𝖻̲𝗎̲𝗌̲𝖾̲.̲ Please be warned.

Word Count: 15,503

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

                                                          *     *     *     *     *

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

Hello Matthew,

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

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

Sincerely, Effie Schaffer

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

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

*

Hello Matthew,

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

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

Sincerely, Effie Schaffer

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

*

Hi Matthew,

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

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

Sincerely, Effie Schaffer

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

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

*

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

***

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

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

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

That was…until Leah made an appearance.

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

Just like now.

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

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

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

“A few weeks,” Matthew shrugged his shoulders.

“And no call or text?  Ouch, Matty.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Effie was nothing like her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Matthew closed his eyes.

These weren’t Effie’s lips.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Matthew refused to answer as he did up his button.

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

“There’s nobody.”

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

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

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

“As if I’d tell you,” he repeated.

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

“Doubt it.”

***

Hi Matthew,

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

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

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

Sincerely, Effie Schaffer

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

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

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

I miss you a lot.

*

Hi Matthew,

I miss you too.

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

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

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

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

Sincerely, Effie Schaffer

Of course I’ll watch them all with you.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

Do u like it? he texted back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Matthew looked over at him.  “Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Sort of.  It’s complicated.”

“It’s complicated?  What’s her name?”

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

“Effie?”

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

“Taryn!” both brothers yelled at their sister.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“SHE’S FIFTEEN?!”

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

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

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

“But mom!  He’s an idiot!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She…” Brady egged on.

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

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

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

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

“It’s not—”

“Why’re you busting his balls then?”

“Keith!” Chantal chastised.

***

Hi Matthew,

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

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

Sincerely, Effie Schaffer

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

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

*

Hi Matthew,

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

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

Sincerely, Effie Schaffer

Dance your heart out Effie.  Fuck them.

Fuck them.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wanted it like this all the time.

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

“I’m seeing a sex therapist now too.”

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

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

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

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

His heart ached.  “Of course.”

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

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

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

“But then…”

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

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

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

“Effie, if I hurt you—”

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

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

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

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

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

“When he would hurt you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

She looks beautiful, by the way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm,” he nodded his head quickly.

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

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

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

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

“Where are we going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She could—

She—

Now, it hurt a little.

Now, the lips weren’t as soft.

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

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

Matthew.

Matthew.

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

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

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

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

“I’m so—”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

But now he had more important things on his mind.  

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

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

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

***

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

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

Both women nodded.  “Spicy margs.”

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

“No.”

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

Effie nodded.  

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

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

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

“Then we’ll get you another drink.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s it called?”

“I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

“With Matthew?” Dr. Barlow clarified.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Semi-regularly.”

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Thank God.”

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

“You mean like the rules and stuff?”

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

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

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

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

“What if it does?”

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

“So you’ll teach me?”

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

***

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

“He is?”

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

“I better get you a Tkachuk jersey then.”

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

“Effie.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

“So how do I get it back?”

“Get what back?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled slightly.  “Wanna start the movie?”

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

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

“Mhm.”

“Effie, are you comfortable?” he repeated.

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

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

Then he heard Effie let out a sob.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

Effie had Tkachuk sprawled across her back.  

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

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

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

Effie waved excitedly.

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

“Thanks, Effie.”

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

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

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

They left inconspicuously without saying goodbye to anyone.

***

Effie broke down during the first scene.

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

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

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

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

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

“I know you can Effie, but—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can only imagine,” Matthew whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was okay.