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hairstevington · 1 year

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i wanna cut to the feeling

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Robin drags her best friend to a Corroded Coffin show. How were they to know sparks would fly between Steve and a member of the band? (aka, the fic where Steve fixes Eddie's hair before a show and falls in love immediately)

Word Count: 3.2K.

Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ continued on Ao3 (linked here)

Warnings: Language, drinking, Hairstylist!Steve, Rockstar!Eddie, nothing crazy yet but I reserve the right to get crazy later

A/N: This is inspired by a tiktok I saw of Joe Keery talking about how he put curlers in a costars hair every night for three months and got really good at it. Also I wrote all of this today so if there are mistakes please go easy on me <3

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“Steve, you’re coming out with me, and nothing you say will change my mind.”

Steve watched from the desk as Robin got ready in front of her bedroom mirror. She had called him in for hair advice, which he gladly provided, but if he’d known it was all a ploy to get him to leave the apartment, he would have been more resistant.

“I’m just so exhausted from work this week,” he complained.

“That’s what you say every week,” Robin countered. She turned to him, her look now finished. “Please, for me?”

“That’s what you say every week,” Steve responded. It was true, Steve’s social life had gotten a bit boring recently. Ever since he’d been promoted to manager at the salon, he was working over forty hours a week, and it was hard to imagine going out after that. But maybe, just maybe, he had enough energy tonight to actually do something.

“Yeah, but this week is special!” she said. “Corroded Coffin is doing a free show at the bar down the street from us, and you know that’s never going to happen again, so you might as well get dressed because we’re going.”

She was right. Corroded Coffin was this up and coming band that Robin was obsessed with. Steve had listened to their music before, and they were pretty good.

“Fine, I’ll go,” he sighed. “But I’m not staying out all night.” Robin squealed, then ran to him to pull him into a hug.

“Yes! Okay, be fast, I wanna get there early so we get a good spot.” Steve thought about reminding her that it probably wouldn’t be that crowded, considering they weren’t that popular of a band, but he didn’t want to dampen her spirits.

Since he was crunched on time, he mainly focused on making sure his hair was acceptable, then swapped out his work shirt with a nicer one. Before he knew it, he was off with Robin, walking down their street.

They didn’t live in the nicest part of town, but their apartment was affordable and had a dishwasher, so they figured as long as they stuck together they’d be alright. Steve wasn’t ever too concerned, in fact he would be quick to fight anyone who tried to break in, but Robin insisted they install extra locks on the doors anyway. It was a good system.

“I’m surprised you like this band so much, considering they’re all men,” Steve teased. Robin rolled her eyes in fake annoyance.

“People don’t only like bands because they’re attracted to the members, Steve.” She flipped her hair, then smiled once the bar was in sight. “Besides, if a band is entirely composed of dudes, who do you think the fans are?” Steve noticed a group of beautiful women walking into the bar, and then laughed at the realization.

“Damn. You’re diabolical, Buckley.”

Once they got into the bar, they each bought a drink. Robin ordered a vodka cranberry, and Steve ordered a rum and coke. It was their standard when they went to bars together, even though they ordered different things when out with other people.

It was still an hour before the show, and the bar was mainly empty - as they typically were at 6pm. Robin, eager as ever, made her way to the spot closest to the stage, dragging Steve by the hand with her. It was a small venue, but he imagined by showtime it would probably be somewhat full. They sipped their drinks and chatted, as Robin told Steve about her most annoying customers and he told her about his most entertaining clients. Once he’d finished his drink, he excused himself, saying he had to go to the bathroom - but really he went outside to smoke a cigarette.

He knew this bar pretty well, considering it was down the street from his apartment, which meant he knew that there was an alley leading to the back of the building that nobody ever went to. Steve tended to prefer privacy at this point in his life - especially when it came to hiding the fact he smoked. Robin would probably kill him if she found out.

He lit up, enjoying the moment to himself, but it was short lived. A door a few yards down burst open.

“Fuck, man. I fucked up. I really fucked up.” Steve watched as a frazzled man paced back and forth, talking to someone on the phone. “I don’t know why, okay! I just, I thought I could just - Yes, I realize I have a personal stylist for that.”

The man looked vaguely familiar, but Steve couldn’t place from where. Then through context clues, he put it together - He was in the band.

It’s not like he’d ever seen pictures of the guys in Corroded Coffin - Their album cover didn’t have their faces on it. The man continued to argue with the person on the phone, until he said one final biting remark, I’ll fix it, and then hung up with a groan.

“You alright there, man?” Steve asked.

“Shit! Didn’t see you there,” he replied. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He took out his own cigarette and lit it, stressed.

“Sounds like you’re having a hair emergency.”

“Don’t be a dick.”

“Oh, I’m not,” Steve said, defensively. “I never kid about hair emergencies.” The man continued to look at him, perplexed. Steve finished his cigarette and stomped it out on the concrete. “I’m a hairstylist. Been doing it for years now. Maybe I could help you?”

“Shit, really? Yeah, that would be great.” He looked at the cigarette in his hand and considered putting it out, despite him only having just lit it.

“Don’t waste it,” Steve insisted. “Tell me what happened first.”

“Uh, okay. Well, it’s been a minute since I’ve gotten a haircut and my bangs kinda grew out, so I tried to…”

“Ah,” Steve said, immediately understanding. “Happens all the time.”

“How bad is it?” he asked, nervously.

“Hard to tell since it’s so dark out. Here -” Steve took out his phone to use the flashlight, then noticed a text from Robin.

Dude, did you go full Elvis and die on the toilet or something?

He shook his head, then responded,

All good here, one of the band members needs hair help.

Steve turned the flashlight on and pointed it towards the man’s hair, and that’s when he got a decent look at him for the first time.

He was the kind of guy that probably would be completely intimidating, had he not been an anxious mess over attempting to cut his own bangs. It was a weirdly vulnerable way to be introduced to someone, but it was a way Steve had become used to at the salon. He didn’t like seeing people upset, but he liked knowing he could fix whatever was upsetting them.

Steve was barely taking in the bombardment of texts Robin was sending, because he was so focused on the hair - and the guy wearing the hair.

WHAT

WHAT??

Which one??

Steve

Steven.

Please respond to me.

STEVE

“Who’s blowing up your phone, dude?” the man asked, amused. Scrolling through his texts, Steve chuckled, and figured he’d answer at least one of her questions.

“It’s just Robin,” Steve answered, vaguely. “What’s your name?”

“Eddie,” he answered. Steve replied to Robin’s text accordingly, then put his phone away. He’d seen what he needed to. “So, what’s the verdict?”

“Completely fixable,” Steve responded. “Do you have scissors or should I go grab mine?”

“You mean to tell me that you don’t keep extra scissors in your pocket for situations like this?” Eddie teased.

“They’re in my other jacket,” Steve responded. Eddie laughed, but it wasn’t a joke. “I live just down the road, I’ll be back in five minutes, okay?”

“Nah, no need,” Eddie dismissed. “I have some in the dressing room. The murder weapon, if you will.” He gestured for Steve to follow him into the building through the back door.

Steve had never seen this part of the bar before. It wasn’t anything terribly fancy, just a small room with some mirrors where the rest of the band was hanging out. They all seemed to ignore Eddie and Steve’s arrival, focused on their own insecurities.

Eddie fetched the scissors from a pile of his things on the table, then turned to hand them to Steve. When he saw Steve in the full light of the dressing room, something in his face shifted.

“What?” Steve asked, confused. Eddie didn’t respond. Instead, he just shrugged, then sat down so Steve could work his magic.

“I’m really trusting you here, ya know,” Eddie said, sternly. “I don’t let anyone other than Crissy near me with scissors, usually.”

“Don’t worry, I’m really good at my job,” Steve assured him. The fluorescent lights gave him a better idea of what he was working with, and it still wasn’t so bad. Eddie had enough hair that the pieces he’d trimmed unevenly could be easily hidden in a pinch. “I barely will have to do anything, I promise.”

“I’m kinda weird about my hair,” Eddie admitted.

“Believe me, I understand.” Steve smirked, then used his fingers to untangle some of Eddie’s curls.

“I know you do. The only reason I’m not freaking out right now is because your hair is cool as hell.”

“I’m sorry, this is you not freaking out?” Steve teased, measuring out the strands of Eddie’s bangs on either side of his forehead. Eddie rolled his eyes, but kept his head still. “Thanks, by the way. Good hair has always kinda been my thing.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie responded, casually. The comment caused Steve to freeze.

“You know?”

“Uh, yeah. Steve Harrington, right? We went to Hawkins High together.” Steve continued to look at Eddie, puzzled. “And you obviously don’t remember me, which is unsurprising.”

“Uh, sorry, I don’t.” Steve resumed what he was doing, expertly making his first cut. “I have to get kinda close to you for this next part.”

“I don’t bite, Harrington,” Eddie said, absentmindedly playing with the rings on his hand. Steve chuckled, then pulled up a chair and sat in it.

Steve had worked with hundreds of clients, and boundaries were always super important when it came to this sort of thing. Hairstylists are destined to be up close and personal, so it’s part of the job to make sure the other person feels comfortable. Eddie seemed entirely unfazed by Steve’s proximity, which is why it was especially strange that Steve didn’t share that sentiment.

Just a couple more snips, that’s all, Steve thought to himself. But in order to get the precision he wanted, he’d have to get closer. He scooched the chair forward until his knees were pressed to Eddies, then felt his stomach drop when Eddie parted his legs so Steve could move even closer.

With their legs slotted between one another, Steve had no trouble evening out the last few strands.

“Almost done,” he said, trying desperately to make his voice not sound shaky. The fact that he was so thrown off by this was incredibly unprofessional. Steve was up close to people all day every day, and yet they never made him feel quite like Eddie did. For example, he never found himself wanting to stare at a client's lips quite so much before. He made his final cut, then fluffed out the final product. “Voila.”

His gaze met Eddie’s, a moment that lingered perhaps a second too long. Steve scooted the chair backwards, exhaling. Sometimes, with clients, he found himself focusing so much, he forgot to breathe - but it was quite obvious this time around that he had been doing that for a different reason.

Eddie swiveled in his chair to look at himself in the mirror, then broke out into a huge smile.

“Damn, you can barely tell anything happened,” he said, incredulously.

“See? Crisis averted.” Steve stood up and put his hands in his pockets, trying to seem as casual as possible despite the fact that he was losing his shit a little bit. He had to get out of there, immediately. His fingers grazed the smooth surface of his cell phone, which gave him the perfect out. He took his phone out, seeing another bunch of messages from Robin, each one more aggressive than the last. “Shit, I should get back out to my friend.”

“Yeah, and I gotta start setting up out there,” Eddie replied. “Thanks again man.” He rested a hand on Steve’s shoulder in gratitude, and it took everything in him not to jump at the physical contact.

“Yeah, no problem. Glad I could help.” He nodded, giving a close-mouthed smile.

“Uh, so we’re probably gonna go out after this,” Eddie said. Steve stopped himself from saying, What? We are?? Instead, allowing Eddie to continue. “So if you and your friend - uh, Robin - if you guys wanna come with, find us after the show. Least I can do is buy you a drink, right?”

“Sounds good,” Steve responded without thinking. It did sound good, spending more time with Eddie. But he wasn’t even planning on being at this show in the first place, and now he was going to hang out with the band after? It was all completely batshit insane. Robin was going to freak. “Okay, break a leg out there, Eddie.”

“Oh, I plan to, Steve.”

Steve made his way back into the bar where he’d left Robin. The room had filled in quite a bit since he’d last seen it, but he could still spot his best friend from a mile away. When she saw him, she looked pissed.

“I am going to murder you, Harrington.” She punched him playfully. “Tell me everything.”

“Uh, okay, well.” Steve wasn’t sure how much detail he wanted to give Robin about his interaction with Eddie, particularly the sexual tension he felt that absolutely could not have been reciprocated. Steve was openly out as bisexual, and even before that the closet he lived in was basically glass considering he was a hairstylist with a lesbian best friend. Still, it felt weird to tell Robin he was attracted to Eddie. Maybe it was because he knew she’d get all smug about it.

“Come on, before the show starts!” she prodded. Steve thought she might punch him again, so he continued.

“Eddie was freaking out because he tried to cut his own bangs, and I told him I could fix them, so I did. Not much else to tell.”

“You know I know when you’re hiding something from me, right?” It was true, Robin always saw right through Steve.

“Oh, he um. He invited us both to go out with him and the band after the show.” Her eyes widened, bigger than Steve had ever seen them.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, are you serious? Both of us as in you and me? Robin and Steve? With Corroded Coffin?” Steve nodded. “OH MY GOD!”

He couldn’t help but smirk at her excitement. It would have been a bit embarrassing had the house lights not gone down at that exact moment, her cheering mingling with the crowd’s.

Then, Eddie walked out on stage, and it was at that moment Steve realized just how close to the band he and Robin would be, thanks to their early arrival and her determination to get a good spot. Steve couldn’t help but admire his work as Eddie’s hair moved with each step. It was impossible to tell there had ever been an issue in the first place.

Steve had never seen Corroded Coffin live before, obviously. He’d heard their music in the apartment quite a bit - enough to know the words to their most popular song, at least. He tried his best to act completely natural during the show, and not as if he was thirsting over the guitarist, but at least he wasn’t the only one. It seemed like most people in the audience shared a love for Eddie Munson. Steve heard several girls around him muttering to one another about how badly they wanted him, and Steve smirked at the knowledge that they wouldn’t be having drinks with Eddie later, while Steve would be. Eddie knew how hot he was up there, and he really leaned into it. It was maddening. Meanwhile, Robin was enjoying herself to the fullest, completely oblivious to Steve’s internal conflict.

He knew what would fix this. Alcohol!

He tapped Robin on the shoulder and mimed a drinking motion. She gave him a thumbs up in response, so he headed towards the bar, where he ordered a whiskey - double. He pounded it down, then asked for a beer to go, just so he had something to hold in his hand. Being at a concert or a party and having a drink in his hand always felt to Steve like having an umbrella in the rain - without one, he was miserable.

He returned to Robin swiftly, already feeling the effects of the liquor. In his tipsy state, it was a lot easier to keep himself from overthinking. After that, he was able to enjoy the show along with everyone else around him. Eddie had been looking out past Steve and Robin the whole night, so he felt invisible in a way - like maybe, the lights were arranged so that they were hidden and Eddie couldn’t see them. From then on, he cheered like a maniac with everyone else, egging on the guitarist who was way too full of himself already, and hollering when he took his jacket off on stage.

Steve wasn’t sure why he was so freaked out by his attraction to Eddie in the first place. It’s not like he’d never had a crush on a guy before. He chalked it up to just being weirded out by it happening while he was cutting his hair, and shrugged all the other weird vibes away. Thank God for alcohol, right?

The band's final song was Steve’s favorite - the one he knew all the words to. Robin used to use it as a rickroll of sorts, until Steve finally admitted he liked it. After that, they sang along to it in the car almost every time they rode anywhere.

Robin started singing, and grabbed Steve’s hand to encourage him to do the same. He was tipsy and giddy with the energy from the audience, so he obliged, delirious.

He’d grown so accustomed to his feeling of invisibility, he’d almost forgotten he wasn’t actually invisible. This became abundantly clear when Eddie’s eyes locked in on Steve, whose voice immediately cut out at the attention. Eddie continued to sing, staring down Steve like he knew exactly what he was thinking.

Then, the motherfucker smirked.

Steve looking up at Eddie on stage like that, close enough to see the beads of sweat on his forehead, was the sweetest kind of torture. Eddie’s fingers moved along the fretboard of his guitar with ease, and when he’d flip his hair? Yes, it was dramatic, but it also was probably the hottest thing Steve had ever seen. Oh, sweet Jesus, he thought to himself. Robin is never going to let me hear the end of this.

(next chapter)

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Taglist: @ofherscarlettwitchways @livvyshmiv @paintballkid711 @abraca-fxckyou @allbimyself26 @jellybabiesforall @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @justaloadofgarbage-blog

#st fanfic #writing #me #steve harrington #eddie x steve #steddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #rockstar!eddie #robin buckley #platonic stobin #robin and steve #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things au #eddie munson #modern au #i wanna cut to the feeling

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aleksa-sims · 2 years

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RL Sims-Story (18+)

CW: addiction, drugs

My memories still didn’t come back and I still had no idea what had happened in those 2 crazy days. I just knew, I was with my parents (and Philip), totally high and....who knows what else? 🤦‍♀️ That’s why I met my mom the next day, to settle this with her. 😥

My mom begged me on the phone to change my hair. She said I look a bit messy and next week, I will start working again. But not just that! I had to be transferred and come to a new office. 😩 I had to change every 9 months, to go through each area once. But my mom was right! As I looked at the moment, I would certainly not make a good first impression. I got these bruises/blue marks again. They were everywhere! My body was full! 😨 But back to my mom & me! Why was I with my parents, two days ago?? After all, my dad kicked me out.

My mom asked me to come over, to talk. She said my dad wasn’t home, but he was there! Also my grandparents and even Philip was there!! They tried to persuade me to leave Daniel & come back home. 😢 A week ago I went to my parents and picked up the rest of my stuff! My mom noticed how Daniel changed and that he wasn’t feeling well, and that’s exactly what scared her!

Mom: Please, come home with me when we’re done here! You look even worse than a few days ago! Are you in pain? 😞

Me: No! I’m just annoyed! 😩 😔 I don’t want to sit here for 3 hours to dye my hair. I never wanted to come back here after your great.... hairstylist Tom 🤨, cut my hair so short without really asking me!!

Mom: He said, he’ll make it up to you today. Ok?...And I wanted to do you a favor! I know you’re afraid they won’t like you in the new office. But if you see how pretty you are, you’ll feel more confident. And I’m sure you’ll make new friends there too, just please stay clean when you go to work! 😟

Me: Yeah....What happened on Saturday? Why did you involve Philip in this? He has his own problems!

Mom: I just called Philip to ask, if he saw you. When I told him that I wanted to persuade you to come back home, he wanted to help. He’s worried about you too! Why did you leave on Saturday? You promised us all, you would stay! But after a while, you were just gone! Your grandpa spent three hours looking for you, A.! 😞 But Philip called and said you were with him.....Still, you went with Daniel, why? 😦 🤷‍♀️

Me: I-...Idk exactly what happened? 😔 P. just told me, everything was fine? 😕 But he’ll come to me tomorrow to sort this out. But I can’t be with him! I just don’t trust him anymore. 😞

Mom: But you trust Daniel?... Look! 😟 Daniel isn’t longer the boy or actually... man, he was a few weeks ago! When I saw him with you last time, I almost blacked out. He scares me so much, A.! He will hurt you or force you, to do.... things for him, just because he needs his drugs. You gotta get away from him! 😧

Me: He would never do this to me! He’s the nicest guy I’ve ever met! And he needs me! I have to help him! He has no one else, but me! You know..., his mom’s not like you! She doesn’t care about him! 😟 She’s just interested in her fucking..... mumbo-jumbo shit. 😒 🤦‍♀️

Mom: But it’s not your job to help him. Help yourself and come home to your family!!

Me: I wish I could! Really! But I can’t!...Something about him... just won’t let me go! 😳 😢

Mom: That’s just because you’re constantly high with him! You can’t let go of the feeling of being high!! It’s not Daniel! It’s that damn drug, A.! 😨

Me: No, it’s him! And without him, I will not come back! I want to stay with him forever and we will get well again, I know that!

Mom: You’re imagining something that’s not real. But I’m sorry, A.! It won’t last and the pain you will have afterwards, will be much worse than the one you had before. 😟

Me: That’s why it MUST work! And it will!...This is not imagination! My feelings for him are REAL!

Mom: I see I’m talking against a wall! Still, I’m not giving up on you! Never! Which is why I’ll make you a suggestion later, when you’re done with your hair, but now go! Tom is waiting for you.

Tom: Aleksa my pretty! Come on, let’s make you even more beautiful.

Me: Yeah. 🤨

Tom: I have a little surprise for you! As compensation for this very drastic change, half a year ago.😬 🤷‍♂️

Me: Hm! 🤨 🤔 ....Ok mom, see you later! And thanks for all....this! Love you!

My mom was right! I liked my new hair! I thanked & hugged her. After that we spent some time together and went shopping. Yeah, she’s a shopaholic!! 🤷‍♀️ No wonder my dad was always freaking out..... My mom wanted me to go home with her, but she realized, I would never do this without him. So she promised me, that she will also help Daniel! He and I together on withdrawal at our home. 😟

When I said goodbye to my mom, I felt like the last piece of shit on this planet. She cried and it hurt me so much to leave her there at that bus stop alone. But I told her, I would come back home, if I could take Daniel with me. I couldn’t just abandon him!! And I won’t!

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#ts4 #sims 4 #sims 4 story #my rl with my simself #simself #myrlgameplay #18+ content #cw addiction

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bangct · 2 years

Text

A bit jealous?

Pairing: Ot7 x FEM reader

Genre: fluff, slight angst, slight nsfw

Warning: y/s is a crybaby, she's jealous and it shows, Yoongi is sorry but won't have it, aside from that, this is fluffy comfort and words of love. Choking, just a little bit, suggestive thoughts and that's it i think.

Summ: Being in a secret relationship with "the" band of the moment was by far an odyssey, it was not a secret how jealous you could get sometimes, and they would do things on purpose to make you mad, even when you tried not to show it, however not feeling quite good that specific day had an effect on you, and seeing you boyfriends have a little too much fun with 'that' girl made you lose it.

Word count : 13k(msorry)

Date: April, 19 2022

a/n: Right, I'm posting this as a first story, i had this in my drafts for so long I just needed to throw it out. I don't remember the time i wrote so it might not be that good, but i don't wanna loose it so il leave it here. i usually post nsfw but i wanted to start soft and I'll eventually show the dark side of this lol. I appreciate a good feedback, so do not hesitate, also be constructive not destructive.

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The headache I had was becoming unbearable, I had been assigned to cover for a stylist who had called in sick, and of course, the staff was not going to risk the members by keeping a sick hairstylist. It was these moments that reminded me why I only worked in the music area and not as a stylist or makeup artist, of course I was capable to do it, but my patience was not so much under pressure, so once we had finished, I didn't hesitate to throw myself on the couch in the dressing room, my head was throbbing and my mood was going downhill. Several minutes had already passed and on the monitoring screen I could see how the guys were having fun and laughing in that interview. I got distracted for a moment and when I turned to see the screen again, I saw the girl who had been causing so much controversy but so much joy for the BTS fans, Halsey.

So, great, Halsey was there, as a surprise I guess, I couldn't hold back the smile that adorned my lips, I liked seeing them like that, genuinely happy, and Halsey was a good person, at least as far as I had known her, I was never a big fan of her music, but she seemed to get along with them, so it was all good.

The minutes passed and I was starting to get irritated with the way they were looking at her, although I wasn't going to deny my jealousy, I've always tried to stay out of it and not get carried away with my thoughts, however, the headache and my mood seemed to say otherwise and my annoyance only increased. My eyes wouldn't leave Jimin, who seemed quite comfortable being almost on top of her.

Can't they give her her own microphone?

Ugh, I wanted to stop watching them, it was starting to annoy me too much, I tried to calm down but couldn't, their bracelets, their matching outfits, ah, and what was that? Perfect mentioned Yoongi, of course, perfect.

I felt my blood boiling, so i decided to get up and go to the car, I knew it was the last interview of the day, so I went to manager Sejin and asked him if I could go to the car, he clearly noticed my state and as always in his concern, he asked if everything was ok.

"I am, there is nothing to worry about, you know how much these interviews stress me out, I just need to rest." Sejin narrowed his eyes without believing much in my words but he let me go, I mentally thanked him for not asking more questions, while I was gathering my things I could hear the commotion that the guys were making as they came back, I tried to do it as fast as possible so I could escape, but it was impossible.

I watched as they entered one by one, I frowned when I noticed that Namjoon was not there, but seconds later I saw him enter the dressing room together with Halsey, wonderful, just what I needed...

She saw me and smiled broadly, something that only made me feel terrible.

"y/n!!! What a surprise, I haven't seen you in a while, I'm so glad you're here." Without thinking about it, Halsey came closer and wrapped me in a tight hug, kissed my cheek and smiled even wider than before. "I was just asking Joon about you, it's good that you are accompanying him in these things, it can get tedious and it's great to have someone to take you out of the routine even for a moment, isn't it Joonie?"

Joonie?

The audacity of this woman, I restrained the urge to roll my eyes, and it seemed that Namjoon noticed it, since I got a glimpse of the way his frown was furrowing, I tried to put on my best smile and cleared my throat to be able to answer, at this point, the rest of the guys seemed to be very interested in what I had to say.

" Yes, it's so good seeing you too, I'm glad to hear that your collaboration is going in the best direction. I listened to it and well, you have a beautiful voice that suits it amazingly." While my words were genuine, the following was clearly a very direct dig at the seven who seemed pleased with my response.

"I mean, the guys have already told you how perfect and wonderful you are, I guess I have nothing more to say after such praise, I don't blame them, they are absolutely right." The smile on her face told me that she definitely had no idea about the reality of things, while looking at the guys, I could tell the hint of surprise and confusion at what I had said.

"Now, I really hate to say goodbye, but there's a car waiting for me, it was nice to see you, i hope to see you in the future, and congrats on the song. I'm sure it will go great." Without further ado, I gave her a short hug, grabbed my stuff and headed to the door. Of course the guys were even more confused, and I was more irritated than ever.

As soon as I was home I didn't hesitate to rush to the shower, wanting to scrub the stress out of me with soap. Once ready, I changed into my most comfortable pajamas and jumped into bed.

My head still felt like it was about to explode, and it definitely got worse when I heard the sound of the door opening. I think it was the first time in 7 years of our relationship that I hated hearing the sound of the door opening.

I tried to pretend to fall asleep while the noise increased, a few seconds passed, and I noticed how suddenly silence was the only thing that filled the place. Just when I was about to get up, the door to my room opened, and a black-haired man peeked his head out looking for a sign to enter.

"Noona? Can I come in?" Jungkook, it was more than obvious that they would send Jungkook to check that everything was okay.

"Yes, you can come in" my voice sounded muffled and somewhat irritated, which made jungkook frown.

I watched as he closed the door to my room and approached the bed. I looked at him from where I stood and couldn't help but sigh as I noticed the youngest of the seven, he was still in the same clothes from the interview but no makeup or shoes. He smiled at me and didn't hesitate to climb onto the bed, his hands traveled to my waist and in a second he pulled me to him, squeezing me and clinging me to his chest. I couldn't help the sigh that left my lips the moment I felt him close, my arms moved on their own and wrapped around him tightly, hugging him as if I was afraid he was going to disappear.

"What's wrong, Noona? You left without even saying goodbye, do you feel sick? Do you need me to call the doctor?" I quickly denied all his words, instead I hugged him tightly, feeling my eyes start to sting, which only indicated one thing, crying.

Jungkook pulled me away from him and cradled my face in his hands, concern filling his face.

"Baby, please tell me what's wrong, I hate seeing you like this, please." His words made my heart flutter, I knew that they all worried about me, and Jungkook had always made it clear, it was endearing.

"I'm just stressed and tired, I'm exaggerating, don't mind me." I grunted and lifted my face showing that all traces of crying were gone. He smiled, caressed my cheeks and moved closer to meet his lips with mine, I sighed and didn't hesitate to reciprocate, I loved the taste of his lips against mine, his hands traveled to my waist once again and he squeezed me gently, making me gasp slightly at the sensation.

He pulled away as he let out a light chuckle, which made me blush in a second.

"Cute" he murmured before leaving a small peck on my lips. "I'm sorry the hyungs made you feel bad, you know we all love you the same way and there's nothing or no one that will make us change our minds."

His words took me by surprise, making me lower my gaze for a moment in sorrow. I bit my lower lip and did not hesitate to hug him once again. I was so lost in his arms that I didn't notice the door opening once more, until I felt the bed slightly undulating next to me, clearly on the side where Jungkook was not. I pulled away from him slightly and turned my face to see Namjoon sitting there looking at me with a pout, yoongi and Jimin were also there, while hoseok, taehyung and jin were standing at the foot of the bed.

"We are truly sorry, you know we love you more than anyone else, and there is no one who can replace you." This time Jimin spoke softly, a slight pout on his lips and seemed to want to get closer, but he looked hesitant. The rest of the boys looked almost desperate, looking for an answer from me, anything to tell them that everything was okay.

I bit my lips and didn't know what to say, as I was quite embarrassed, Halsey had a boyfriend and her relationship with the boys was evidently professional and work related, of course, they were friends, but only that. I turned to Jungkook and hugged him tightly, hiding my face in his chest, which made him giggle. He didn't hesitate to put his arms around me and leave a kiss in my hair.

"She is clearly annoyed with you, I was clearly interested in snacks, losers." Jungkook laughed and as soon as he stopped I felt a pair of hands grabbing me from behind.

A gasp escaped my lips, and when I realized, Namjoon was pulling me to him, leaving me on his lap, which only made my face turn into all shades of red.

"Baby...Please don't be upset, I'm really sorry, you know it's all business, I never meant to make you feel bad." His words came out almost in a whisper, and of course, he was right, I was overreacting because of my annoyance and irritation.

"She called you Joonie" an unconscious pout appeared on my lips making the dimpled man laugh, and I swear I could hear the others let out slight giggles.

"You know I'm yours, baby, only yours, no need to feel jealous." His hands traveled to my face to caress it gently. Having the rest of the guys there, made it all quite familiar, being all together in my room, me on Joon's lap, yes, it was definitely all quite familiar, although the context was quite different, if you know what I mean....

Anyway, my thoughts were starting to consume me wandering way too far from what was happening, memories of other occasions filled me and I couldn't contain myself from biting my lips. Of course Namjoon noticed. He always does, as a low chuckle came out of his mouth making me feel almost like floating, one of his hands caressed my face while the other one went down to my waist.

"What are you thinking of, love? That mind of yours flies so fast, care to share?"

He murmured In a low tone that always made my knees weak and my head fuzzy.

"Hyung, you are making her blush too much, let us at least say something too" it was Taehyung who came closer to pull me into his arms, without waiting he started to fill my face with kisses as well as apologies for making me feel bad.

"Jagi, you know we love you, I love you the most but that's a different conversation, please forgive us."

Well, it was definitely a hard image to resist, just when I was about to say something I heard several grumbles from the others, who were complaining at taehyung's words.

"Yah, you don't love her more than us, brat" said Jin, coming closer to stand near me, as well as Yoongi and Hoseok who looked amused at the situation.

"I'm sorry I reacted like that, I was irritated and tired, but you know I didn't mean it, I love you guys it won't happen again." At this I felt how more arms tried to wrap around me without really succeeding, I noticed how Yoongi stayed behind, looking at everything with a smile. It seemed like Jungkook noticed it, so he threw a pillow at the older one while laughing.

"Yah, Hyung, aren't you going to hug her? I think she was most upset with you when she saw us in the dressing room." Said Jungkook while still laughing lightly, making Yoongi blush, something that didn't go unnoticed by anyone in the room. The aforementioned scratched the back of his neck, not really knowing what to do, Hoseok left a space next to him and pulled his hand to bring him closer to the bunch of bodies on my bed.

"Don't be shy hyungnim, it's been almost 8 years, get over it already." With that comment, Hoseok got a kick from Yoongi and laughter from the other five in the room. Yoongi reached over and grabbed my face to close the distance and kiss my lips, which I didn't expect. Yoongi was usually reserved when it came to affection, so it was a bit of a surprise when he kissed me. His hands roamed over my waist and torso. It was looking all innocent, until his hand wrapped around my neck with some strength, my eyes went big and of course, my face turned red. He looked at me with some intensity and something else I couldn't describe, as he came closer to my face, I could hear how my other boyfriends were whispering God knows what.

"I don't want to hear again that you are jealous, I don't want to take other actions, although I'm sure you wouldn't mind those." He smiled and oh god, it was that smile that made me turn into a quivering mess. I wanted to say something but I was way too focused on him to even do something. "I need you to understand that you are ours, and if you're ours there is no human force that will manage to make us stop loving you, so quit it, or we'll show you how it is."

A quite high moan escaped from my lips,it was now a different atmosphere, before I knew it, hands were once again trailing all over my body, they were soft but it was a matter of time for them to turn into something else.

"Please show me.."

#bts x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #polyamarous #ot7 x yn #bangtan smut

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 1)

summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 2875

warnings: smut... sort of (oral f receiving), voyeurism/exhibitionism (kinda?), touch of angst, lots of pining and awkwardness, jealous bucky being jealous, alcohol use (reader gets drunk)

Nothing annoyed you like being surrounded by stylists and being primped and prodded for hours at a time. It made you feel claustrophobic to be touched so much: makeup artists only inches from your face, tailors watching you change, hairstylists nearly spraying you in the eye or burning you on the forehead every few minutes.

Not to mention how uncomfortable it was to actually be in the whole get-up once they were done.

But, such was the nature of a red carpet event. This one was going to be particularly bland because it wasn't even a premiere or awards event but a launch party for a perfume campaign. How lame is that? It's one of those things that really only exists so that there can be pictures of it to put in a magazine, because they're always running out of good pictures of celebrities to publish.

Finally all dolled up to the point that you didn't look even very much like yourself anymore, your assistant accompanied you downstairs and into your driveway where your car was waiting; and, more importantly, its driver and your driver, Bucky.

He was a gruff sort of guy; certainly a man of few words and many brooding glares. Sometimes you thought he didn't like you— like maybe he resented your fame or something— but then he'd turn around and be so sweet all of a sudden and you didn't know what to think. For one, he demanded to open the door for you every time you got out of the car. Sometimes he even extended his hand for you to grab on to, which was especially useful for red carpet events when you were usually wearing skinny heels that were impossible to balance on.

Such was the case tonight as well, and you smiled up at him as he helped you out of the car and up towards the steps of the venue.

"Thank you," you smiled at him, and he barely smiled back.

"Have a good night, madam," he suggested, a formal stuffiness to the way he addressed you.

You nodded, "You too!" That made you pause, though, because you weren't sure what his night would entail at all. "Say, what is it that you do when I'm at an event like this?"

He seemed confused by your question. "Um, I sit in the car and wait until you're ready to leave."

Guilt seared in your chest and you frowned. "That's it? You don't, like, go out? Catch a movie?"

"Nope. That would prevent me from doing my other job, which is watching the points of entry to make sure there aren't any threats to security going in."

"Right…" you trailed off. "You could always come in, you know, grab some free drinks and stuff."

"I thought you didn't want any of your team following you around at events."

"Yeah, don't follow me around, just mingle and kill some time!"

Bucky shook his head. "If I'm not there as your driver or as your security, then I'm not there."

You shrugged. "Suit yourself, but please feel free to, like, get some food or whatever you wanna do while I'm in there! Don't just wait on me!"

He smiled, but it looked a little rehearsed. "Thank you, madam."

You realized he'd been holding your hand through the entire conversation, cause you'd asked him your question midway through getting out of the car. Awkwardly, you finally dropped his hand and waved goodbye, escorting yourself up the last few steps and into the door.

God, he must think I'm such a freak.

God, she must think I'm such a freak.

Bucky munched on the sandwich he'd had delivered (yes, to the car, how else was he supposed to get it?) as he dutifully watched the entrance. Against your advice, he had every intention of just sitting around and waiting for you, but he wasn't bored; he had a Mets game on the radio to keep him company.

"— top of the third, bases loaded, DeGrom is at the plate with one swing left aaaaaand… he strikes out!"

"Shit," Bucky grumbled to himself around a mouthful of pastrami.

Glancing up, he saw someone stumbling out of the party: squinting, he realized it was you. He looked at the clock with a furrowed brow, noticing it was a little earlier than he'd thought you'd leave, but then he saw that there was someone with you… a guy.

Bucky set his sandwich down and turned the key in the ignition as he watched you pull your phone out of your clutch— ostensibly to text him to bring the car around, but he was already ahead of you, quickly exiting the parking lot and circling the building so he could pull up at the steps. He was about to get out to open the door for you but this random guy did it instead, before tumbling in after you.

"That tickles!" you protested with a giggle as your new friend started to kiss your neck, his hands all over you before Bucky had even gotten the car moving.

You were too drunk and distracted to notice that the partition was still open. Of course Bucky had considered closing it, in fact he wanted more than anything to close it so he wouldn't have to see this, but some sick part of his brain needed to see it. How else could he know if something went wrong and he had to get back there and stop it? How else would he keep you safe?

How else would he get to find out how you sound when you're being touched like this?

He couldn't see too well with it being the middle of the night and all, but every time he drove past a streetlamp or particularly bright neon sign, the colorful glow would shine in and cast light over your neck where your head had fallen back in pleasure; or your collarbones, exposed where your dress had been pulled down; or your chest, rising quickly with the speed of your panting breaths.

Ogling you in the rearview mirror made him feel like a total creep, but it satisfied a bit of the urge he'd been feeling ever since he started driving you. He wasn't actually a driver, at least not usually; he was more or less your bodyguard at this point, but you were really adamant about having a small detail and so that was why he was working double-duty tonight… and why he'd been doing so for almost three months now.

"Baby," you gasped, and his eyes shot right back to your reflection; you were writhing against the seat, and he could just barely see the top of the guy's head where it was buried between your legs. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, lips curling into a relaxed smile. His cock was not only hard but throbbing at this point, as if that was going to do him any good. He barely ever got to look at you, and he knew he would never, ever be able to touch you— beyond holding your hand as you stepped out of the car, at least. Whenever he did that, he imagined for a moment that he wasn't your driver at all but your date, that he would get to keep your hand as he guided you down the red carpet with him. Not that he wanted any of the attention that you got, of course, but at the same time he did like the idea of all those photographers snapping pictures of his arm around your waist, or you looking up at him with your hand on his chest. They'd all run stories wondering what a beautiful, successful, massively talented woman like you was doing with a guy like him, but he wouldn't find the energy to care about crap like that if he had you all to himself.

Another whimper from you pulled him out of his daydream, reminding him to focus on the road as best he could. He knew you would hate him if you knew that he'd thought about you like that. Or if you knew about all those times he'd checked in on you while you slept at night and lingered a bit too long. Or if you knew that he had rewatched that one sex scene you'd done in your last movie about a thousand times. It always broke his heart to see you underneath some other guy (his name was either Dermot Mulroney or Dylan McDermott or possibly Dermot McDermott?) and yet it turned him on like nothing else to watch you immersed in pleasure. Similarly, now, he couldn't stand knowing it was someone else making you moan the way he was hearing, but it was the best he was ever gonna get.

"Oh god," you sighed, "fuck, yes, yes, oh my god yes—"

His grip tightened on the steering wheel and it must have been the noise of the leather stretching that made you notice him; as if every dream and nightmare of his was coming true at once, your gaze met his in the reflection of the rearview.

He was so screwed, and he was totally going to get fired tomorrow, but he couldn't look away. Your eyes were like dark magic the way they pulled him in, kept him locked on you as his face started to burn so hot it could cook an egg.

Staring you down, he saw your mouth fall slack as your hands reached down to grab your date's hair and tighten into fists. Shivers shot down his spine as he imagined the way it would feel if you pulled his hair like that.

The longer you kept looking at him, the more a very dangerous thought danced in the back of his mind…

What if she wants me to watch?

Which, even more concerningly, started to slowly morph into another idea…

What if she wants me?

He was sure you were coming. It wasn't obvious; you didn't say anything, didn't moan too loud, didn't scream or sob or call out any names (which made it easier to pretend it was for him) but he could tell. Your swollen lips were parted silently as he watched your breath catch in your chest, and your hands clenched around fistfuls of hair. What he would give for you to pull his hair like that, and come for him like that— except he wouldn't have stopped there, unlike your current companion who was already moving back up your body to kiss you hungrily.

He'd always thought you had really pretty hands, and they looked pretty good sliding over the back of this guy's suit jacket, but he liked them best when they gently pushed him off. "We're almost there," you mumbled as Bucky turned the car into the driveway, using his fob to open the gate.

Once he'd come to a stop outside your door and turned off the engine, the three of you exited and stood up as you yawned and stretched.

"You'll take Jack here home, right?" you asked Bucky quickly.

"It's Jake…" the man corrected with hesitance.

"Right, Jake," you smiled, "you'll take him to his place, right?"

Bucky gave the guy a smile dripping with gloating contempt, loving the disappointed look he was wearing as he realized he wasn't going to be spending the night in your bed. "It'd be my pleasure," he announced coldly.

"Great, thanks," you sighed. Standing on your tiptoes to give the guy a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the shoulder, you thanked him for a great night and made your way into the house.

Jake looked around in confusion for a moment before getting back in the car along with Bucky, sighing and running his fingers through his hair.

"What address am I going to?"

"Uh, 333 15th Street, in Brooklyn," the guy replied, pausing to let out a soft but incredulous laugh as the car began to move. "Level with me, man: does she… do this kind of thing, a lot? You know: bring guys over, make it seem like something's gonna… happen, but then just send ‘em back home and never call again?"

With a silent glare, Bucky rolled up the partition.

You heard the front door, even from your current location of the shower upstairs, and knew Bucky was home— okay, not exactly ‘home’ since he didn't leave here full-time, but home in the sense that he was in your home and in the place he would be staying tonight. You just hoped he'd actually stopped the car before kicking Jake out; he never cared much for when you had guys over or really just interacted with guys at all, because of the "security risks" or whatever.

Next, you heard him coming up the stairs and passing by your door. "Hey, Bucky, you out there?" you called to him.

"Yeah, what is it?" he answered through the door. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just—" you stopped when you heard the crinkling of paper. "What is that? Do you have food?"

"Um, yeah," he answered.

Your stomach growled; the event had only had tiny hors d'oeuvres, and the alcohol in your system enhanced your desire for a midnight snack. "What kinda food?"

"It's a sandwich— well, what's left of one: I was eating it while I waited for you."

"Are you gonna finish it?" you asked curiously.

"No, I was thinking I'd put it in the fridge for tomorrow."

You paused a bit before asking, "Can I have it?"

"Yeah, sure, you can get it in the morning—" he began.

"No, now!" you clarified.

There was a pause before he responded. "Right now? In the shower?"

"Yeah, just bring it in here!"

"I-I'll let you finish showering first—" he stammered.

"No, Bucky," you whined, "just come in here! I'm hungry!"

Another pause before he finally opened the door, his blurry figure visible through the steam-covered frosted glass.

"What's on it?" you asked as you washed the last of your shampoo out of your hair.

"It's pastrami on rye with jalapeños, fresh mozzarella, pesto and some sort of spicy aioli or something."

"Ooh, come to mama," you purred as you reached over the top of the door with opening-and-closing grabby hands, squeeing with glee when he placed the wax paper package in your grasp.

"Okay, enjoy your drunken shower sandwich," he congratulated grimly, about to turn and leave.

"No, wait, where'd you get this?" you asked as you leaned out of the stream of hot water to unwrap your bounty.

"Uh, you know the deli on 8th and Columbus?"

"You went all the way out there?"

"No, I had it delivered."

You snorted with laughter. "Couldn't leave me alone for even a minute, huh?"

"Well, I fully intended on leaving you alone for this shower."

But you didn't really notice that comment because you'd just taken a bite and couldn't stop yourself from moaning loudly around it. "Oh my god, Bucky, this is so good!"

He cleared his throat. "Uh, glad you like it."

"You have good taste in sandwiches!"

"I think the word for 'taste in sandwiches' is just 'taste,’” he pointed out, his smirk audible in his voice.

"Can we go to this place tomorrow and you can order for me?"

"We can do whatever you want tomorrow," he relented.

"If you drive, I'll pay,” you offered.

"I always drive. And you always pay,” he pointed out.

You frowned, not visible to him through the steamy glass. "I do?"

"You pay my salary, so, yeah…"

You laughed, a little too hard. "You're so smart!"

"Sure,” he replied quickly.

“Okay, I’m almost done in here,” you informed him.

“With the sandwich or the shower?”

You laughed with a little snort, which would’ve embarrassed sober you. “Both!”

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it then,” he replied, starting to go back out the door.

“See you tomorrow, Bucky,” you waved even though he couldn’t see it.

��I don’t know that I will,” he admitted, “you’ll probably be hungover and lock yourself in your room all day.”

“Hmm, possibly,” you agreed as you pondered that. “Then I guess just ‘goodnight,’ and I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Goodnight,” he replied and stepped out of the bathroom— you could hear him go downstairs and shut the door to his room, and you glanced down at the last bite of your/his sandwich with a smile.

You must have gotten in bed at some point, cause that was the last thing you could really remember before you woke up a bit before noon, bright orange sunlight shining directly on your face where it rested on the pillow. You groaned and turned over, feeling like your brain was too big for your skull. You sat up when you saw a menagerie of unfamiliar items on your nightstand. A bottle of pedialyte, a bottle of Fiji water, a few aspirin, an orange and a banana waited for you in a pile, with a little piece of paper sitting in front which you read.

Hope you’re feeling alright, these might help in the meantime. -B

You smiled, twisting open the Fiji and taking a sip. Bucky always took such good care of you, even in ways he didn’t need to. What would you do without him?

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n

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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 3 years

Text

Visiting your hometown

What happens when you take your man to your home town? As your memories, people and places come together how will he react?

A small/long drabble to get me back into writing. Enjoy!

Victor Creed

This mutant never thought that he would walk in your hometown. He didn't expect to see cultures that morph together into one special town, your town. A place where you grew up. So keeping all that in mind he was cautious. Various not to offend someone or to say a rude word in your mother tongue. For the first time in his life, he is frazzled and nervous. he will keep in his front pocket a small leaflet some words he heard you say a few times that may be of some assistance. trying to woo you.

-that old hag showed me the middle finger. let's go.

Unfortunately, anything that he says wrong, will be your responsibility to amend it. so good luck.

Loki

you just know that Loki will have your mother tongue in his little finger (that sounds weird but let's carry on) but do not be fooled, he can not survive the morning wave of people in the farmers market. something that is pretty much normal for you. Loki doesn't know how to feel when he sees the local butcher wrapping the meat in todays' newspaper giving it to buyers or how people shove him to the side as his black suit with the green scarf is more than brought down in value. he will hear the near shouts of Famers that are trying to sell their livelihood to him as his head goes from one side to another in a split second. he will easily get reeled in by the old farmer who just smells the innocence on the Midgardian addressed god. you know the moment you grabs his hand he looks at you.

-how did you ever survive in this chaos?

-I thought you said that chaos is your middle name.

-it is however my kind of chaos is more dignified.

-survive just a little bit more, I need to go to that man in the corner.

-oh, no...

Thor

we all in the fandom know that thor is a ball of joy. but when he lands in your city, your territory he is stoic. he is here on a mission and no one should stand in his way. he will glue himself to your side and he will hold the dictionary book in his mighty right hand and your hand in his left. he will not stand for wasting a day on mundane stuff that you do with him back in the HQ so say goodbye to lazying around. when you go to the oceanic part of your country you are now almost ready to drown him in the ocean. or just leave him on the road, it is getting that heavy.

-thor, think it is time to stop.

-what do you mean?

-to be honest, I don't know anymore I am so tired.

-you are right... let us stop. for 2 minutes and then you can drive again.

-I will leave you here.

Bucky Barnes

bucky loves to travel. he loves to see you in the role of a guide you tell him about the park where you cut your leg open and when you got to the hospital as a nun stood above you praying for your recovery. bucky loves to feel the fresh air going into his nose thinking to himself how this was the same air that you breathe in. he loves to see all the different parts of the city where you went to. even so much that he went to your former hairstylist.

-bucky, you don't have to do this.

-nonsense, doll. I want to experience it. just like you did.

-that was eons ago. and I wore super short hair, like a hedgehog.

-hedgehog?

-yeah, it was so short that I only put on gel and made small spikes.

- I will give everything I have and say that you looked beautiful.

-alright, your call.

Steve Rogers

steve cannot wait for enough for him to arrive in the city where you walked, ran, and laughed. he cannot wait to enter your old apartment and see all of the hidden pieces that he wants to know. he loves to help you clean the apartment and see a big box of your old photos. he will look with your through on the hard wooden floor with one arm around your shoulders as you talk about each photo. even showing him the photo of your sister.

-when will I meet her?

-I don't know.

-didn't you say that she lived here, still?

-yeah...

-I want to meet her. I think am ready for it.

-okay...

Bruce Wayne

you just know that when you told him to pack his bags to go with you he did his research. he knows when, how the city was built. he will try to memorize the tongue twisters and say them horribly wrong just to make you laugh. when he looks at your old apartment he tries to envision the day you left it all behind to go to Gotham and it breaks his heart to imagine you in tears.

-bruce.

you take his calloused hand feeling his fingers tighten the grip.

-sorry, I immediately imagined you when you moved out. I got sad.

-why?

-because, you surely cried.

-I did, a little, but this city didn't have that something.

-and what is that?

-you dumbass. now stop sulking we need to clean.

Clark Kent

as Clark arrived at the farm where your aunt lived he couldn't help feel but prepared. he saw the cows eating grabs and was ready in a split second to milk it just to show off his soft and delicate side. Clark heard the stories of your aunt, well one of them, and from what he concluded, for now, this aunt was the beginner level, nice one, the one who won't tear him a new one if he doesn't treat you right. as the door opened you greeted your aunt in your mother tongue and introduced your man. Clark shakingly trying to reply in the mother tongue feeling the few letters that stood together could fall more apart than from his mouth. your aunt laughed hugging him and roughly patted him on his back. almost like a punch if you will. you look at your aunt and Clark cannot help but stand behind you as he whispered.

-what did she say?

-she said that you seem stiffer than a goat's turd.

-you said that this aunt was nice.

-she is. but that is the way we express ourselves.

-with curse words???!!

-what better way.

Arthur curry

Arthur was relaxed when he arrived, he was laid back when he slept in your apartment but that all suicide jumped off a cliff as he shook hands with your mother. Your mom wasn't that intimating but he heard the stories of her standing to your abusive father and running away with just some change in her pocket and a used car. he knows that the woman in front of him is strong can make or break your relationship. so he held the coffee cup in his hands as if was the key to everything he needed to know how to make your mother happy. he saw how your eyes sparkled when you talked to her how your smile ever left for a second you take what seemed to him in complete gibberish but cute gibberish. your mother turns to him asking in English.

-so Arthur, can I call you by your first name?

-yes, madam. of course, you can.

-thank you. well, then Arthur what do you do for a living?

with a small nod from you, he tells the honest truth.

-I am a superhero. but minus the stupid cape. I am here to keep you and your daughter, of course, safe from all danger. and I hope you will like me!!!!

you turn to your mother with a small chuckle as you tell her in your mother tongue.

-he is helpless.

-he seems like it, good luck, Y/n.

Orm Marius

nothing can save his pulse from rising as he walked with the crowd of people in the town square only your hand which he held more than tightly enough. you stopped pointing at a big statue of a colonel on a horse placed in the middle of the square.

-he is a big deal.

-yes, I can imagine the poor people that had to lift it up to place it here.

-yes, but thanks to those people, people now in the present can always remember what they went through at that time.

he didn't find any specialness in the statute for him it lacked in far more than that he can count but when he saw your face looking at the statue he knew that whatever that stirred in you he wanted to see it every day. he only squeezed your hand placing a kiss on your knuckles.

-does this mean you want in your likeness?

-sure, but only if you will make it.

-oh, darling, that is a recipe for chaos.

The Joker

j never put effort into himself. he did in destruction, in chaos, in mayhem, and even in covering his white skin with some basic foundation as he meets your off the edge aunt. when you told him that every second sentence from her is a curse he was more than ready to meet her. because sometimes crazy people click with the people who like to curse. everyone knows that. so when he sat in the house of your crazy aunt he firstly observed, he watched you talked together and exchanged laughs, even more, when you ever brought to tears as you laughed off the curses she threw at you so playfully making even j smile. so when she turned to him it was game time. and you were the translator.

-my aunt asked what is that you do for a job?

-tell her I am the man of your dreams.

-I told her that.

-damn, then tell her-WHAT?!

you giggle at his shock as you heard the playful quote she told you when you were little and j wanted to know what she said.

-what did she say?

-she said "if a girl gives a man a hand, she will give him her ass"

-your aunt is a wise woman.

- I knew you would like her.

Duncan Vizla

Duncan likes to take walks and taking a walk with you next to him as you showed him around your old neighborhood and told him stores of the always pissed on metal slide and the always filled cafes that were always the pinpoints for some scammers he found in question why you like it so much. as you showed his around you stopped at your old elementary school. you showed him the main entrance was where everyone hurled in the morning hours and where you sat with your friends and talked about the horribly proffers that still to this day haunt you. something he heard you mumble in your sleep.

-she was that awful?

-yes, and people like here never get old it's like the evilness she has in her keeps her eligible for work.

-am i not the same?

he couldn't ask a stupider question. and for that, you punched him in the shoulder.

-don't compare yourself to her. you aren't evil.

-you are forgetting my job, darling.

-you kill for money, she kills for fun and to keep herself alive. a difference now let's go home I need to remind you just how good and attentive you can be.

-lead the way, dove.

hope you liked it. Tell me what you think❤️

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hstyleshoney · 3 years

Text

Luck On Tour

A/N: Soo, this is my little thing for @oh-honey-styles HSFICSLAM 2 challenge. I’ve been struggling to write something for a while now and this kind of just caught my attention because it seemed like fun. It’s nothing too serious or fancy. Just a little bit of fun. If one person enjoys it then I’m happy, bc I just had a good time writing again.

Let me know your thoughts, it would mean a lot!!! xx

WC: 2.7K // a cheesy story about good luck charms and love

“You’re jealous aren’t you?”

“What?”

You blinked and turned around to glance at Charlotte who was looking at you with a smug smile. She raised her eyebrows knowingly and nodded her head in the direction you had just been glaring.

“I told you this was gonna happen.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you told her, taking a deep breath, before forcing a strangled laugh from your chest. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Charlotte hummed and tapped her chin, pretending to be deep in thought before continuing. “Maybe because you two have been sleeping together for a couple of weeks now and you won’t admit it’s more than a ‘friends with benefits’ type of thing.”

You opened your mouth to tell her she was wrong, but Charlotte stopped you by putting her hand up and adding; “And now you’ve been glaring at poor Rosie for the last ten minutes for doing his hair - which, you know, is her job.”

“I have not.”

“Sure,” she chuckled mockingly and pressed her lips together to stop herself from grinning. “If you say so.”

Instead of replying you turned around to look at Harry again. He sat across the room from you, getting ready for the last and final show of his tour, with Rosie standing in front of him. Your eyes went to her hands as she ran her fingers through his brown hair and twirled his locks around her fingers to give him a little more definition.

And you had no reason to be jealous - but maybe you were? Just a little bit. Just the tiniest little bit jealous.

Because you now knew just how soft his hair was and that morning you had been the one to soothingly run your hands through it as he rested his head on your chest, cuddling up to you and holding you close.

Still, you really shouldn’t be jealous, because Rosie was only doing her job as his hairstylist and there was absolutely no reason for you to be jealous. None. Nada. Zero.

But then there was also that interviewer who, in your opinion, sat way too close to him and touched his arm a little too often. Laughing and flirting with him like no one else was around. It left a sour taste in your mouth, although you would never admit that outloud. Especially not to Charlotte.

It was only supposed to be a bit of fun. It was never supposed to get to this point. You were only supposed to be the tour photographer. Harry had liked the pictures you had taken of him during one of his Jingle Bell Ball performances a while back. And when his regular photographer wasn’t able to join him on the North American part of his tour, due to a conflict in her schedule, his team reached out and asked if you were available.

You were.

So a couple weeks later you were on a plane, traveling across the Atlantic, and ended up befriending one of the world's biggest pop stars.

How you ended up naked in his bed after the show in Chicago was still something you were trying to figure out.

It kind of just... happened.

One of the crew members had turned 40 and Harry had arranged a big birthday party for him after the show. You weren’t supposed to be working but you couldn’t stop yourself from pulling out your camera, the moment was there and you wanted to capture everyone's good spirits. Harry came up to you, a plate of cake in one hand and a drink in the other, forcing you to take it from him and telling you to put the camera away and have some fun.

One drink turned into another, and another turned into a third, and the third turned into a shot of tequila. It was all just downhill from there.

As the night went on you found yourself being drawn closer to Harry and when his fingers danced across the skin on your thigh you knew there was no going back. An hour later you stumbled into his hotel room, and his hands and lips were all over you as you ripped his shirt from his body before the door was even fully closed behind you.

The next morning you woke up with a raging headache and a belly full of regret because it was terribly unprofessional of you to sleep with the artist you were supposed to be working for. You were sure you were going to be told to pack your bags and go back home.

Of course that didn’t happen and Harry was nothing but sweet. He ordered both of you breakfast and let you sleep off your hangover in his bed while he got himself ready for the day.

Then it kind of just became a thing, because life on the road could be a little lonely and your pink vibrator wasn’t always enough.

It didn't bring you the same warmth Harry did.

And he didn’t seem to mind sharing a bed with you either, even if he sometimes complained about your cold toes rubbing against his legs.

So, really, who were you to say no?

But perhaps you should’ve because now the tour was coming to an end and you had no idea where the two of you stood and the uncertainty of it all was making you jealous of his hairstylist touching him - not ideal.

Which was why you decided to remove yourself from the situation and went to get your camera ready instead. You found yourself a quiet spot in a small corner next to the stage and tried to ignore the immature thoughts about Harry and Rosie running through your mind.

You shouldn't be jealous. It was stupid. Besides you and Harry weren’t anything exclusive. Sure, he made your heart beat twice as fast and made you feel things you had only ever read about in novels before, but you hadn’t told him any of that yet.

And you weren’t really sure how to tell him any of that.

Should you even tell him?

Telling him would make it real and what if he didn’t feel the same... that would certainly be the end of whatever was going on between the two of you.

But it was possible that the end of the tour also represented the end of the two of you, so, maybe you didn’t even have anything to lose by telling him?

You groaned to yourself and ran a hand over your face in frustration, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to drown out your thoughts with the sound from all the screaming fans in the already full-packed arena. The anticipation was high and usually it made your whole body itch with excitement as well, there was just so much love and adoration going around for one person. It was impossible to not be part of it, but tonight it only made your belly twist with anxiety.

You were going to miss it. The loud crowds. The anticipation. The joy radiating off of everyone in the arenas. The ringing in your ears as you got into bed hours later. The sparkle in Harry’s eyes as he looked through the pictures you’d taken and saw the happy faces of his fans.

You were going to miss him. Harry.

It was one of the reasons you hadn’t asked him how he felt about the two of you. If he turned around and said that your late night rendezvous was only a bit of fun while you were on the road... Well, it was something you weren’t ready to hear just yet.

Fuck.

It was also at that exact moment that Harry decided to show up, only a couple minutes before he was due to go out on stage.

“There you are,” he called out when he spotted you, your green trousers and matching striped blazer making you stand out from your little hideout in the dark corner. You watched as he said something to Jeff before making his way over to you. “Been lookin’ for ya for bloody ages - thought I’d have to go on stage without a goodluck from my little ladybug.”

You tried your best to ignore the way your whole body tingled from his little nickname for you; a nickname that started after he noticed the small little ladybug ring you always wore on your right index finger. You had had it since you were twelve and you just couldn’t get rid of it. Ever since you first saw it in the small thrift shop in your hometown it had been your good luck charm.

And once Harry asked about it and learned that you wore it every single day for good luck, he decided it was also the reason why the North American tour had been going so well and didn’t go on stage before you had wished him a good show.

“Well, here I am.”

Harry frowned and stopped in his tracks. You couldn’t look at him, the high waisted trousers and sparkling suit jacket he was wearing made your already racing heart beat even faster.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just getting ready,” you muttered and nodded down to the camera in your hands. You didn’t mean to sound so bitter but the words fell from your lips before you could stop yourself. “Are you all set for the last show then? Maybe you should go find Rosie again to make sure the hair is good.”

You regretted it as soon as you said it, your cheeks turning hot as the last phrase slipped from your tongue.

That was stupid.

His eyes burned through your skin and you knew there was no way he was going to let your snide little remark go. Stupid stupid stupid.

For a moment you contemplated just making a run for it so you could hide in the lively crowd for the whole show and then simply just disappear into the night, so you wouldn’t ever have to look Harry Styles in the eyes ever again.

But something stopped you.

A low, almost inaudible, chuckle fell from the man in front of you and you glanced up at him just as his lips curled into a small smirk, his dimple appearing on his cheek, and you felt your face grow even hotter. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Harry held his hands up innocently.

“I’m not looking at you in any way,” he said, still smirking, and let his tongue poke out to lick his pink lips.

“Yes, you are! I don’t like that-” you started and waved your finger at him, “Whatever it is you're doing with your face.”

“Are you jealous?” Harry asked, ignoring your frustrated little stomp, and took a step closer to you.

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous,” you said, taking a shaky breath and a step backwards away from him, making both of you disappear in the shadows of the dark corner where you had previously been hiding as he followed and continued to come closer.

“You are, aren’t you?”

“I’m not.”

“It’s fine if you are.”

“You really need to stop or I’ll only snap pictures of you from your worst angles tonight.”

Not that he really had any bad angles but that was beside the point. It was absolutely infuriating how he could see right through you so easily.

Harry laughed and took one final step forward, trapping you between his body and the wall. His familiar perfume washed over you and you wanted to bathe in it forever. He always smelled so damn good, and for a moment you forgot about your childish behavior from a couple seconds ago and let yourself get lost in the green of his eyes

“You know you have nothing to be jealous of, right?” Harry told you and reached out to push a strand of your hair away from your face. His fingers gently brushed across the apple of your cheek, making your heart flutter and head fuzzy. He was no longer smirking at you but his lips were still turned upwards. Instead of the smug smirk he was now looking down at you with a soft smile - the same smile you had gotten so used to seeing first thing in the morning, and you were sure you wouldn’t mind if you got to see it every morning for the rest of your life.

“Do I?” you breathed out nervously.

“Well, when we’re back in London I'm gonna make sure to finally take you on a proper date and-”

“What?”

You didn’t mean to cut him off. It just took you completely off guard and the words fell from your lips before you could think twice about it. “You want to take me out on a date in London?”

That caught him a little off guard.

“Oh,” Harry faltered a little and scratched the back of his neck. For the first time there was a hint of nervousness across his otherwise confident features. “I kind of just assumed we would, eh, we don’t have to- I mean if you, um- if you don’t- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed you wanted to continue things back home.”

And you probably really should’ve said something then, but you were at a loss for words. It was the first time either of you had ever mentioned something about seeing each other after the tour was done. You finally had an answer to the question that had swirled around in your head for days and had created the uncertainty and jealousy in the first place. Just like that.

You had spent all day trying to decide whether you should tell him your feelings for him had changed and admit you wanted to see him more, and there he was -- already planning for your first official date.

You really needed to say something.

But someone else beat you to it.

“H!” It was Jeff. “You’ve got less than a minute until you have to get on stage, c’mon!”

Harry turned around and gave his friend a thumbs up, to let him know he had heard him, before he looked down at you again.

“Alright, duty calls I guess,” he said and gave you a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Again, I’m sorry.”

And you knew you had to say something because you couldn’t let him do his final show thinking you didn’t actually want to continue seeing him. Especially when it was the opposite of what you wanted.

“Wait,” you burst out and reached for his hand to stop him from leaving. “I do. I do want to see you.”

Harry’s dimple made another appearance and there was so much more you wanted to say to him. You wanted to tell him how thankful you were to have met him. How happy he made you. How safe you felt in his company. How you could always be yourself around him. How he actually had no right to complain about your cold feet because his own were even colder.

But Jeff beat you again.

“Harry!” He shouted. “Get your ass over here!”

“We probably shouldn’t talk about this right now,” Harry chuckled and pulled you a little closer, his hand still in yours.

“Probably not,” you mumbled and watched as Harry ran his fingers over your dainty little ladybug ring, before lifting your hand to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to it. His warm lips lingered for a couple seconds on your skin and you could have melted into a puddle right there and then.

“Wish me luck then,” he smiled, his lips still brushing against the skin on top of your hand.

“You don’t need it.”

“Shhh, don’t ruin it now,” he shushed and shook his head lightly. “S’the last show. I need my ladybug luck.”

“If you need your ladybug luck,” you began quietly and pulled your hand away from his. Harry pouted and reached for your hand to have the little ladybug on your ring between you again, but you were quicker and put your arm around his waist. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

A grin broke out across his face and he didn’t waste any time before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss that filled your belly with butterflies. Warmth consumed your whole body as you leaned into the kiss and Harry smiled against your lips. You really could’ve stayed in that moment forever.

“Harry!”

Jeff called his name again.

Harry let out an excessive sigh as he broke your kiss and leaned his forehead against yours. His breath warm on your face and as he pressed his lips to yours again in a short peck you realised you were still smiling as well.

Then he was off to do his final show.

And despite the thousands of ear piercing screams that filled the arena as he entered the stage the sweet little “Good luck” you shouted after him was the loudest one.

#HSFICSLAM #Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry Styles fanfic #Harry Styles writing #harry styles x reader #Harry Styles concept #Harry Styles blurb #Harry Styles Drabble

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spine-buster · 3 years

Text

Patience is a Virtue ft. Matthew Tkachuk | 𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑒

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

Word Count: 14,637

Please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page if you are able. Link in my bio & Masterlist.

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

* * * * *

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

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

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

That was how she liked it.

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

She wore pants.

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

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

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

“Chop it all off.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Effie nodded firmly. “Ready.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

“225 Mercer Street, Unit 13.”

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

Matthew was officially confused. “The Starbucks complex?”

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

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

***

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

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

Matthew walked in.

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

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

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

Effie nodded her head.

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

Effie looked scared for a moment. “Tip?”

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

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

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

***

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

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

“The Ottawa Senators,” he replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need you to take me home.”

“Effie—” he reached out to touch her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then it finally hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Effie…” he said uneasily.

“There were seven.”

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

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

***

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

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

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

“For who?”

“Effie Schaffer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because you’re her friend.”

“Yes.”

“Because you care about her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Can I come in?” he asked.

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

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

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

“So you know it’s a thing now.”

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

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

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

“I should be the one apologizing—”

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

“How do you know?” Matthew asked.

“Because you’re a nice person.”

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

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

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

Matthew smiled too.

***

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

“Less,” Annica giggled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Effie’s moving out?!”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK.

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

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

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

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

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

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

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

She went in for a hug.

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

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

“Whiskey.”

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

“Pretty much,” Matthew giggled out.

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

“Do you want to try some?”

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

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

“A virgin drink?”

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Uh…it’s called grinding.”

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

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

Fuck.

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

“Let me go for y—”

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Um, water please.”

“You driving tonight, darling?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t drink.”

“Wanna start?”

“No,” she said firmly.

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

Effie furrowed her brows. “Like what?”

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

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

“Who the fuck are you?”

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

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

“Fuck off.”

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

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

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

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

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

“Are you sure, Matthew?”

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

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

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

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

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

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

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

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

“Never, Effie. Never.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

FOLLOW REQUEST: effieschaffer7

You have accepted effieschaffer7’s friend request.

Effie?????

Hi Matthew

U made an insta?

Is it okay if I follow you? Annica helped me

Yes of course it’s okay if u follow me

I am going to post my baking I think

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

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

I’m gonna make sure Levi drives us home then

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it good?”

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

***

“Piiiiiiivvvooottttt!!!!!”

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

“Piiiiiiiiivvv—”

“Monahan!”

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

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

“Am not!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He furrowed his brows slightly. “Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry,” he apologized quickly.

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

“Hmm?”

“Do you like me?” she asked.

“Of course I like you, Effie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

Matthew nodded his head. “Would you?”

Effie nodded her head.

***

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

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

“Hmm?” he looked down.

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

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

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

“Matthew?” she looked up at him.

“Hmm?” he was already looking down.

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

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

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

He knew what was coming.

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

***

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

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

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

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

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

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

It was always initiated by her.

***

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

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

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

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

“I figured as much.”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

***

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Sit,” Mark said sternly.

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

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

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

“Effie.”

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

“Please don’t tell me—”

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

“You can’t fault me for thinking it.”

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

“And then?”

Matthew grumbled. “And then I moved.”

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

***

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

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

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

She punched him. Hard.

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

“M—M—Matthew,” she stuttered out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

“Matthew?” he heard a soft voice.

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

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

“Effie, I told you it was alri—”

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

“Effie—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know I can,” she nodded her head.

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

Effie nodded her head.

***

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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1plus1kiyoomi · 3 years

Text

Haikyuu Boys on Tiktok

you forget how long you’ve been together prank

- Kageyama, Terushima, Atsumu

Kageyama

your boyfriend of 7 years loves three things in the world

volleyball, milk, and you

kageyama is good at memorizing

he memorizes all combinations and plays

he knows every milk brand there probably is

but does he know everything about your relationship?

today you will find out

your boyfriend is in the living room, watching a replay of his match, a milk carton in his hand

you set up the camera before joining him

to complete the holy trinity of his greatest loves

you clear your throat, stopping yourself from laughing as you talk to kageyama

“tobio, don’t you think it’s crazy that we’ve been dating for 5 years?”

he stops

he stops blinking

moving

breathing

his heart probably also stopped beating

he turns off the tv and looks at you with a resting btch face

“5 years?” he repeats

you gulp nervously before nodding

“we’ve been dating for 7 years! We started dating second year of high school remember?” he argues

“no! 5! What are you talking about?” you rebut, a scowl showing up his on his face

“where did the 2 years go?” he almost yells in disbelief, you start laughing but kageyama is fuming

“don’t just laugh! answer me! where??????”

he opened his eyes so wide that they looked like they’re going to pop out of the his eye sockets

at this point you’re dying from laughter

“who was i dating for the missing 2 years? my imagination?”

he looks so done and disappointed at you

he doesn’t understand why you think it’s funny

“(y/n) do you know how a year works? even a dumbass like me knows that there are 365 days in a year. do you not know how to count or is something wrong with your calendar?? what calendar do you use???”

his comments are making you cry due to laughing way too much

you point at your phone and he sees it recording

he takes your phone and angles it to film himself

“hello tiktok people! my partner doesn’t know how a year works. can someone please teach her the correct calendar or something? it would be a great help to our relationship. thank you in advance.”

Terushima

believe it or not, you and terushima have been dating for 5 good years

it’s a mystery up to this day how you managed to date for so long

well maybe it’s because he styles your hair for you

FOR FREE

perks of dating a hairstylist

so today you experience that privilege again

you’re in the bathroom and he’s cutting your hair

you are recording from the beginning

you film every hair transformation he gives you

so he doesn’t really feel anything unusual

you are using his phone instead to save you from boredom of sitting for hours

you were scrolling through his for you page when he went out of the bathroom to take hair products he left in his bag

and at that moment you saw the prank then decided to do it

he comes back and you try your best to act as normal as possible

“babe, you’ve been doing my hair since we’ve started dating. how long has it been? 4 years?”

terushima stops midway of cutting your hair and looks at you in the eye through the mirror

“what?” you ask innocently

he shows the scissors in the mirror

“i’ll give you another chance to say that again or you’ll end up leaving this room with the ugliest haircut there is in existence.”

“huh? what did i say? that we’ve been dating for 4 years?”

he puts the scissor down and extends his palm towards you

“pay up you don’t appreciate me enough. you owe me 1 year worth of hairstyling.”

“why are you suddenly charging me?”

“because we’ve been dating for 5 years. and i’ve been styling your hair for 5 long years. but you say that it’s 4. so pay me the 1 year missing.”

terushima folds his arms unamused but you know he isn’t serious

so when you start laughing, he laughs as well

“just choose a year sweetheart and i’ll calculate your expenses for you. with tax and interest,” he says in between laughter

“okay okay you got me. it’s a prank for tiktok.”

he continues to cut your hair properly while you stare at the camera

“we’ve actually been together for like 70 years now. right, ji?” you joke and terushima just shakes his head.

“are you booking 65 years of hair appointment with me or is this a proposal?”

Atsumu

you don’t know what you’re doing

or what went inside your mind that made you do this

you don’t know how he’ll react to this prank

atsumu, your boyfriend of 8 years and now fiancé, is an unpredictable man

you have just celebrated your 8 year anniversary a week ago wherein he proposed to you

and suddenly you’re pulling this stunt?

you are in bed, just snuggling close to his broad firm amazing sexy sugary spicy everything nice chest

when you suddenly speak up

“i can’t believe that we’ve been dating for 4 years.”

atsumu then starts laughing like a mad man

“so where are you hiding him?” he asks so you become confused

“who?” you sit up and look at him puzzled

“the man you’ve been dating for 4 years because it clearly ain’t me!”

he chuckles sarcastically

his laughter making you laugh along with him

he knows that you’re already joking around so he continues to say more comments

“if that’s not the case then did you really die when you said you were dying from period cramps 4 years ago?”

you hit his chest playfully, your jaw already hurting from laughing

“have i been dating your spirit for the last 4 years?”

you just continue to laugh at his childish remarks when he suddenly gasps

“i’ve been sleeping with a ghost for 4 years???”

you smack his mouth because of his sudden statement

“atsumu!” you warn him

“what? if you’re not dead, then do you really have a side dick?”

“a what?” you can’t believe he just said that

“a side dick. you know, a side chick but a dude. a side dick.” he explains a bit passionately which makes you laugh even more

you squish his cheeks using your hands and then shake his head in annoyance, making him giggle

“i can’t believe i’ve been stuck with a child like you for 8 years.”

he takes your left hand and points at the ring on your finger then lets out an evil laugh

“you’re stuck with this child forever!”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #hq headcanons #hq scenarios #hq imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #atsumu imagines #atsumu x reader #kageyama imagine #kageyama headcanons #atsumu headcanons #kageyama x reader #terushima scenario #terushima headcanons #terushima x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff

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yutahoes · 3 years

Text

3Bs Project #1: (Biyoushi)

3Bs are known as the three male professions that women should avoid to date in Japan: a biyoushi (hairstylist), a band member, and a bartender.

pairing : hairstylist! Yuta Nakamoto x homebody! Reader

word count : 3.3k words

genre : angst, fluff, a little crack because of Ten

summary : Your bestfriend dragged you to a hair salon because of a blind date. Who would have known that you’ll fall for the hairstylist?

taglist: @ailoveyuta @aiforyuu @yutazen01 @2-3-t-i @cosmiclatte28 @readers-posts @ytzvivi @onefoureightfive

This is supposed to to be one of the fics I write the Spring Fling event from one NCT network but things happened at home that I can’t write anything. I also feel bad for not posting any scenarios these past few days so please accept this apology even if it’s late.

"I don't want to."

"Y/N, you needed this." Your bestfriend, Ten, sighed. "All you do is stay in your room all day. You need to go out, have a life."

You rolled your eyes at that. You're happy staying inside your room, the scent of coffee and old page books tingling your senses. The life that you're comfortable with. "When was the last time you went on a date with someone?"

"I'm not interested."

"I didn't say anything." You stared at him, eyebrows raised. You knew him like the back of your hand, it must be another guy he's setting you up with. "Okay okay, but he's nice. You'll be a great match." You shook your head at that.

The last time he introduced you to his friend, you became the mess you are today. "Come on, please. I told him that I'm introducing him to someone, please save me."

"Don't you have any female friends?"

"You're my favorite." You had to smile at that. You knew Ten wouldn't harm you, even apologizing profusely for what his friend did to you. "Please, Y/N."

You breathed heavily then nodded. Here goes nothing.

Ten suggested that you should do something about yourself first. You had taken decent baths, what does he mean by that? "When was the last time you had a salon appointment?" He asked, holding your hair. You shrugged, you haven't really thought about it. "This won't do. Let's get you a haircut."

That's honestly not bad so you went with him to this hair salon owned by his friend. The interior was really pretty, a seemingly calming place. Maybe you'll get your salon appointments here from now on. Your friend talked to someone inside the salon and you waited, sitting on the couch. All this trouble because of a blind date. Ten might be introducing you to some hotshot.

The curtains opened as your friend called you inside, gesturing to a chair for you to sit. "I already talked to Yuta about what to do to you. Just trust him." Should you? You cannot trust Ten but you feel bad that he's doing this much for you.

A guy your age, with shiny black hair, went out of the other side of the curtain with hairdressing tools on a cart. You thought Yuta is a girl, surprised he is a guy. He's going to do your hair? "Yuta, this is Y/N. Baby, this is Yuta. He styles my hair and he's amazing in his job." The other man smiled warmly and you have to note that he looks handsome. "I'll leave you to him. I have to get you some clothes."

You called for your friend's name but he was already out of the curtain you went in earlier. You sighed then sat up properly when the guy pushed the cart with tools beside you. "Hi." he greeted, sitting on a stool behind you. Your eyes met on the mirror in front and you gave him a timid smile. "A blind date?"

You nodded. How did he know that? Did Ten tell him? "We have to charm the guy you're going to see, don't we?" Again, you nodded with a smile. "What style do you want with your hair?"

"I'm honestly not sure." You whispered, realizing that you must have thought about this before going here. "Is it rude if I ask you to just do what you want with my hair?" He chuckled before shaking his head. "You can cut it or even color it."

He held your hair and you felt yourself tingle at the gentleness of his touch. "Your hair feels silky. I want to color it but we don't have time." He mumbled, "I'll just layer your hair and do some curls." You nodded, it's his craft and he knows what he's doing.

Ten was right, you just have to trust him.

His hands felt light in your hair, the sound of the scissors occupying the silence along with the faint music from the radio. You saw how your hair changed drastically in every snip and when he styled your hair using the curling iron, you only gasped. You look different and it's just a simple haircut.

"Wow, you look…" Ten gasped as Yuta removed the black cloth covering your body from the hair he cut. "That's some real magic, Yuta."

He shook his head, staring at you. "She's pretty, to begin with." You felt a blush on your cheeks as he said those words. He stood in front of you, twirling a curled hair. "If your date goes well, would you like to color your hair pink? It will look nice."

You nodded, wanting to color your hair instead of the date to go well.

Damn it. You don't even want to go on a date but now, you want this date to go well so you can color your hair and meet the hairstylist again.

So you listened patiently to this hotshot guy, that is supposed to be Ten's friend, yap about his trip abroad and that you should go out of the country to live your life. All night, he kept on saying things about himself not even bothering to ask you a question. He even ordered cheesecake for you, which you do not even like, wanting the carrot cake. Instead of driving you home with his Maserati, he asked you to take a cab.

And then he ghosted you. No message, no call. Nothing. You kind of expected it but maybe, you aren't meant to date someone.

You ruffled your hair in annoyance, a strand of hair falling in front of your face. Maybe you should reinvent yourself. Try again. Be a rebel. Live your life.

You'll color your hair pink.

You don't even know how to ask Ten about the hair salon's number to get an appointment so you just went to the said salon and hoped that it isn't that busy. That Yuta is there to help you.

A young man was in the reception, asking you what you need and if you have an appointment. "No, I don't." You answered then smiled. "I'll just come back…"

The curtains opened and Yuta came out with an older woman next to him. He gave you a smile before facing the woman who held his shoulder, sliding a hand down on his arm. "Thank you, darling. I'll see you soon." Yuta thanked her and she took some cash from her purse to pay, even giving Yuta some more cash that surprised you. That's a huge tip. Is Yuta just a hairstylist?

"You're back," he said when the older woman left the shop and you nodded. "You're finally coloring your hair?" You nodded. "It will take some time though, do you have anything else to do after?"

"No. But I haven't had an appointment so…"

"It's fine. We're closing anyway." It makes you feel bad. He's staying extra hours just for you. "Haechan, you can go first. Just close the door when you leave, I'll lock up after this."

The younger nodded. "Hyung, there are CCTVs here. Just a reminder."

"I know, you punk." He said before turning to you, "Shall we?" Shall you? Why are you suddenly nervous? He told you to sit on the chair facing the mirrors. "So, pink?" You hummed in response.

"I can just go back tomorrow if you want."

"You're already here. And please, just tonight, can you save me from loneliness?" Your eyes widened at that. What? "No, that sounded wrong." He said with a giggle. "I just don't want to go home early to an empty apartment."

So he lives alone? No wife? No girlfriend? But of course, you cannot ask that. It would be weird.

Yuta sat on the stool behind you, mixing something from a plastic bowl. "So the date went well?"

You sighed then shook your head. Why does he have to remind you of that? He put some chemical in your hair, "What happened?" He's curious? Even Ten didn't ask you what happened. "If you're comfortable telling me." But then, maybe he can tell you what's wrong with you. He's a guy after all.

So you told him about what happened, that he's a nice guy but he seemed so high for you. He's so accomplished that you feel like a potato next to him. "Did he call you?" You shook your head then stopped, apologizing for your action. "He's a jerk. If he doesn't like you, he should say something. Not make you wait. That's such a dick move."

You giggled. Why is he so angry? "I hope you don't feel bad about yourself. You deserve more than that stupid excuse for a guy." Again, you laughed. He had his way with words. He might be a ladies' man.

"I'm done with the dating thing." You mumbled. "It's more fun to stay at home."

"Then your pink hair will be useless."

It was one of the decisions that you didn't regret. Yuta was right, the pink hair does look good. It doesn't look awkward than what you imagined and you thanked him repeatedly for the new look. He shook his head, pushing the loose strand of your hair behind your ear. "It suits you because you're pretty."

Damn, why is he like this? You could feel your heartbeat wilding in your chest. "It's late. I'll walk you home." Your eyes widened in surprise. He'll walk you home? He started fixing the things he used while you think of something, anything just to not let him walk you home.

"You don't have to walk me home. I'll just take the bus."

"Then let me just walk you to the bus stop." You nodded, waiting for him and seated on the couch by the reception. It is truly dark, did it really take a long time for her hair to turn pink? When you heard the light switch gets turned off, you stood up and Yuta went out from the other side of the curtain wearing a different shirt, a faint smell of musky cologne hitting your nose. "Let's go."

You nodded then followed him to the door which he opened for you. The walk was kind of short but you were thankful that he's gentleman enough to walk to the dangerous side of the road. "How many stops before you get home?"

"Five stops then a little walk."

Yuta nodded, thinking deeply. "An hour tops." He whispered that made you look at him. He took out his phone, handing it to you. "Put your number in, I'll message you." This is weird. "If you're not home after an hour, I'll call the cops." You giggle at that, handing back his phone which had your number in. He called your number and it vibrated on your pocket, "Or message me if you got home."

The bus is approaching yet you don't want to leave. Yuta is so charming, it's crazy. You like talking to him. "Thank you, Yuta." You said while standing up, watching as the bus opened the doors.

"Take care, Y/N." He said in the softest yet audible voice possible.

It was when you sat on the bus when you realized things. He makes your heart flutter. He's such a gentleman. And he listens to you. You like a guy like him.

You like him.

You saw your reflection from the dark window amidst the city lights. This is just you. You'll never be enough for him. He's perfect. You shouldn't keep your hopes up. You saw a strand of pink hair on your shoulder and gasp, you didn't even pay him. Quickly, you typed in a message apologizing that you forgot to pay him or give him a tip and even saying that you'll just send the payment online or tomorrow.

A reply came quickly, 'It's fine. Thank you for letting me play on your hair.'

You giggled. Play? The color is really pretty and it’s just playing for him? He is amazing. 'I'm sorry. I'll pay you, I promise.'

'No worries, Y/N.' Another one, 'But can you not give up on dating yet? Go on dates, make boys cry. You deserve it.'

Go on dates? He wanted you to go meet other guys? And you thought there's something special between the two of you. Maybe it's just you.

Why is this more heartbreaking than that guy from the blind date not calling you back?

'I will. Thank you again, Yuta.' You closed your phone, sighing hard.

You do like him.

----

"Y/N, wakey wakey." Ten sang, opening the door of your room and you covered your head with the blanket. "Oh, you colored your hair pink. It looks good." He complimented, sitting on your bed.

You groaned. It's still early. "It's been two days."

"And your phone is unreachable." He grabbed your phone from the bedside table, opening it to reveal endless pings and missed calls. "Yuta? The hairstylist Yuta? Yuta Nakamoto?" You didn't know that Yuta is Japanese, he's so fluent in the language. And why is Ten reacting like that? Your phone vibrated, followed by a ringtone for calls. "Yuta is calling."

But before you could get your phone, Ten already clicked the phone and from the speaker, you can hear the worry in Yuta's voice. "God, Y/N. What happened to you? Are you kidnapped or something? Hey, can you answer? Should I call the police?"

Ten gave you a knowing look but you just shook your head. "Hi, Yuta." He greeted and the said guy stopped then asked who it was. "It's Ten." You heard a breath of relief on the other line. Why is he shaking you like this? "Y/N?" You don't want to talk to him yet so you gestured for Ten to cut off the call by moving your finger across your neck. "She's dead."

"What?" You slapped Ten's arm before getting the phone from him, transferring it to handset mode. "What do you mean she's dead? Ten!" Why does he sound so angry?

"Yuta." You called and he stopped. "It's Y/N. Ten is just being stupid." The other guy rolled his eyes at that.

"Hey." There was a softness in his voice when he said that word. "I was worried. What happened?"

I like you. And it doesn't seem like you like me too. So I have to guard my heart, that's what happened. "I got sick. Sorry."

"Are you feeling any better now? Do you want anything?" Your stomach felt sick at that, like little butterflies fluttering their wings inside you. Why is he like this? "You should rest. I'm sorry for calling you, I'm just worried."

"Thank you." You don't want to say anything. You might blow your cover. And before he could say anything else, you dropped the call. You lie on your bed once again, covering yourself with a blanket. Why does this have to happen to you? You were having a quiet life. Now, he's shaking you up like this.

Ten pulled the blanket away from you. "You like him, don't you?" You nodded, tears springing from your eyes. He doesn't seem like he likes you too. You told him about the older woman while sobbing in his arms and how he listens to you. How your heart misbehaves when he's near and how you can feel the butterflies inside you because of his voice. "They were right when they said that it's hard to date a hairstylist. They usually have female customers but it's their job." He explained and you nodded. "Should I ask Yuta? I'm going to the salon today anyways."

You shook your head. This your own feelings, you can take care of it. "But can you just send him my payment for the hair color?"

"You didn't even pay for it?"

-----

It's been days since the last call from Yuta and every time you can see the pink strand of your hair, you can't help but wonder what he is doing. Is he also thinking about you? You sighed, that was a stupid question. Of course not. Why would he?

And it's frustrating to know that you were heartbroken by a guy who was never yours in the first place. More reasons to stop yourself from dating.

You saw your phone blinked, a message from Ten 'Come to Moon Cafe, 2 pm.'

You rolled your eyes, another blind date. 'Please Y/N. I'll stop if he's not the right guy for you.' Why is he so sure of this?

'And he's begging me to have this date with you.' What? He was the one who wanted to date you?

You were hopeful. Maybe this is it. But damn it, this can lead to another heartbreak.

You were curious. Who is this guy? The waitress welcomed you, asking for a reservation and you said your name, "Your date is here." Already? Your hands were sweating as you followed her to the table where your date is. A mop of black hair is all you can see before you stop in front of a table.

Your eyes widened in surprise. Yuta. "Hi." he greeted, standing immediately. The waitress said that she'll be back with the menu as he slid the chair for you to sit on.

"Wait. You?" You asked when he sat opposite you, napkins in front of him.

He nodded then handed you the paper bouquet made from the napkins. "I didn't know if you liked flowers so this is safer. I'll just buy you one later if you want." You shook your head. This is cute. He sighed, a heavy breath as if relieving some nerves. "I'm sorry. I kinda asked Ten for help just to see you."

So this isn't a date. Maybe he's just worried about you. You were right, this can lead to a heartbreak. But you're happy that it was still Yuta. "I like talking to you, Y/N." You stared at him in surprise. What? "I like hearing your stories, especially your voice." Is this some kind of a fever dream? "And I deeply regret that I didn't get to walk you home that night. I mean, I don't have a fancy car but I really want to spend time with you."

You gasped. Is this all true? Yuta is saying those words to you? "But please, don't be burdened. This is just my feelings, I can take care of it." You were thankful for the waitress bringing in the menu that you hid your face with the object, promising to kill Ten the next time you see each other. "Y/N, what do you want?" He's asking you what you want?

"The cheesecakes are our…"

Yuta shook his head, "She doesn't like cheesecakes." He listens.

A smile crept on your lips as you told the waitress that you wanted the strawberry cake. Yuta ordered a carrot cake, the cake that you were craving back at the blind date. He's listening. The guy gave you a warm awkward smile when the waitress left the table, "I like your hair."

Weird. You just let your hair down today. If you just knew that you're going on a date with a hairstylist, you should have paid more attention to how you look. You smiled, leaning closer to the table. He was right, you should go on dates. "Then, Yuta, can I make you cry?"

He smiled, nodding at you. "If that's what you want, I won't stop you."

"I like you too, Yuta."

Once again, he smiled. The smile that made your heart beat rapidly in your chest. The smile that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter. The smile that makes you weak in your knees.

Damn it! You're in love. You're going to marry this guy.

This is definitely the last time Ten introduces you to someone.

#yuta #yuta nakamoto #nakamoto yuta #yuta scenarios #yuta fluff #yuta nakamoto scenarios #yuta nakamoto fluff #nakamoto yuta fluff #nakamoto yuta scenario #nct yuta #nct yuta fluff #nct 127 yuta #nct 127 yuta fluff

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