#colors aren’t set in stone but i needed to get something out or else i wouldn’t have felt satisfied | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hiramaris · 26 days ago

Text

I can’t read you but if you want, the pleasure’s all mine.

SPECIAL CHAPTER

Chapter Summary:

You have a plan. Check the farm. Leave. Simple. You make it about three steps before stopping again. Your gaze drifts back toward her. She’s smiling softly at the photo she just took, adjusting the camera settings before raising it again. Cute. And the plan? Crumpled. Burnt. Gone. With a sigh, you trudge toward the farm, muttering under your breath, “Looks like I’m going to live on a farm after all.”

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Disclaimer: I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: None. Just a useless lesbian.

Notes:

Ever wonder what the farmer's perspective is about all these? And how you seemed to be there whenever Haley needed you to be. That's just a plain ol' coincidence, right? Right? Well, worry no more, 'cause you're about to find out.

Spring 1

You arrived in Pelican Town with nothing but your suitcase and the stiff suit clinging uncomfortably to your skin. The tie at your throat feels like a noose, and the weight of city life still lingers on your shoulders.

You're far too overdressed for this place. If a crowd existed, you'd stick out like a sore thumb.

The bus sputters off behind you, kicking up a cloud of dust that lingers in the crisp morning air. You watch it disappear down the road, leaving nothing but silence in its wake. No honking cars, no distant chatter, no hum of neon lights. Just birdsong, the whisper of the wind through the trees, and the faint scent of damp earth.

The quiet is unsettling.

Before you can fully process the sheer stillness of the valley, a voice had cut through the air.

"Ah, there you are, Y/N! Welcome to Pelican Town."

An older man—short, with a thick mustache—approached you with an easygoing grin.

"It’s good to finally meet you. I’m Mayor Lewis," he said as he adjust his hat. "I used to be good friends with your grandfather. You probably don’t remember me, but we met once when you were little."

You don’t remember, but you nodded anyway.

Beside him, a woman with fiery red hair pulled into a loose ponytail grinned at you. She held a clipboard under one arm, boots tapping against the dirt road as she sized you up.

"And I’m Robin, the local carpenter," she greeted. "I’ve been fixing up your grandpa’s old place for you. It needed… well, let’s just say a lot of work."

She smirked, and you get the feeling she's holding back from saying something worse.

You shifted your grip on your suitcase. "I appreciate it, but—"

Robin gestured down the road before you can finish. "Come on, let’s head to the mayor’s manor first. Your farm’s just down that path"—she nodded toward a dirt trail on your right—"but the Mayor wanted to talk to you first."

Lewis nodded. "I need to go over a few things with you before I send you off. Won’t take long, promise."

You hesitated but fall into step beside them, your dress shoes crunching against the gravel road. The manor is just down the road, tucked neatly near the town square. Luckily, it's still early. The streets are empty, the town barely waking up. The houses lining the path are quaint, with colorful wooden signs swinging gently in the breeze.

You aren’t sure if it’s the morning chill or something else entirely, but the weight in your chest feels heavier with every step.

Lewis lead you up the short stone steps of the manor and gestures for you to step inside. The air inside is warm, filled with the scent of wood polish and something faintly herbal—tea, maybe. The walls are lined with old photographs, shelves packed with neatly organized town records. It's a lived-in space, one that feels much too welcoming for someone like you.

"Have a seat," Lewis said, motioning toward a wooden chair in front of his desk. He lowered himself into his own chair with a sigh, then rummaged through a drawer before producing a rusty key.

"Here’s the key to your farmhouse," he slid it toward you. "It’s a little run-down, but with some work, you’ll have it back in shape in no time."

You picked up the key, turning it over in your palm. It's cold, the metal worn with age.

Robin leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "I already stopped by to check the place out—patched up a few things, cleared some of the worst debris." She tilted her head with a teasing smile. "Figured you'd appreciate not falling through the floor on your first night."

You're not sure what to say to that.

Instead, you nodded, offering a polite, "Thanks."

Lewis pulled out a large map and flattened it on the desk in front of you. "Now, Pelican Town isn’t a big place, but you’ll want to familiarize yourself with it. We have a small, tight-knit community here. It’d be good for you to meet the townsfolk." He tapped a few locations on the map. "The general store, the saloon, the blacksmith—these are the places you’ll be visiting the most."

You glanced at the map, taking in the layout of the town. Everything looks so… open. Unlike the structured, rigid grids of the city.

Lewis leaned back in his chair. "I know this is probably a big change for you," he said, his tone softer now. "But we’re glad to have you here. Your grandfather was well-loved in this town."

Your throat tightens at that. You don’t answer.

Instead, you slide the map toward yourself and fold it neatly. "Right," you said, standing. "I should get going. Thank you."

Lewis nodded, rising to his feet as well. "Of course. I won’t keep you."

Robin pushed herself off the doorframe, stretching her arms. "I’ll check in later to see how you’re settling in. Try not to break anything before then."

You’re not sure if she’s joking.

Lewis walked you to the door, and as you step outside, the morning air feels cooler against your skin. The manor may have been warm, but this place still isn’t home.

You glanced at the map in your hand, then at the road ahead.

You have a plan.

Check the farm. Leave.

Simple.

And yet, instead of heading straight there, you decide to take a detour.

The town feels too small, the air too clean, the people too… friendly.

You aren't in the mood for conversation, so instead of taking the main road, you cut through the graveyard. The map shows a southwest path leading directly to the farm—perfect. Less people, less awkward small talk.

Or so you thought.

As you stepped past the last row of tombstones, a door creaked open.

A young woman stepped out from the house ahead (2 Willow Lane, according to the map). Sunlight caught in her golden hair, turning it almost white at the edges. A camera dangled loosely from a strap around her neck, swaying gently as she moves. She lifted it, adjusting the lens, before taking a step forward.

Your breath catches.

You’ve only looked at her for a second—two at most—but it's enough. Your grip tightened on the map. The delicate curve of her nose, the way the breeze tugged a stray strand of hair across her cheek, the soft squint in her eyes as she scanned the sky—somehow, you've already memorized it all.

What the hell?

Panic surges through you, and you do the first thing your brain deems logical.

You snap the map up in front of your face.

Like an idiot.

You peek over the top just in time to see her lift the camera again. The quiet click of the shutter follows, and you realize she’s taking a photo—not of you, thankfully, but of a small potted cactus sitting on her porch.

You exhale sharply, willing your heart to settle.

What was that?

Shaking your head, you lower the map and start walking again, forcing yourself to focus.

You have a plan.

Check the farm. Leave.

Simple.

You make it about three steps before stopping again.

Your gaze drifted back toward her.

She’s smiling softly at the photo she just took, adjusting the camera settings before raising it again.

Cute.

You forced yourself to keep walking, chastising yourself for acting like a creep.

All that gawking, and you didn’t even have the guts to ask for her name.

But it doesn’t matter.

Because the moment you saw her—blond, shiny hair, brilliant blue eyes, and that damn camera swinging from her neck—you knew you were fucked.

The plan?

Crumpled. Burnt. Gone.

With a sigh, you trudged toward the farm, muttering under your breath, “Looks like I’m going to live on a farm after all.”

****

Spring 2

The forest was quiet except for the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird hidden somewhere in the branches.

You had only been here for one day and you were already starting to like it here—the air was cleaner, untouched by the thick smog of the city, and the silence was more comforting than suffocating.

You crouched by the riverbank, palm open as the tiny squirrel sniffed at the wild walnuts resting in your hand.

It had taken patience to earn the little guy’s trust. Just yesterday, wildlife scattered the moment you approached, unfamiliar with you, an outsider. But now, after some consistence of offering food and waiting, they hesitated a little less, inched a little closer.

This one, in particular, had grown bold. His tiny paws brushed against your fingers as he picked up a walnut, nibbling it with twitching whiskers.

A small smile pulled at your lips.

Then—click.

The sound was sharp, foreign. Unmistakable.

Your body reacted before your brain caught up, head snapping toward the source.

Someone was standing just beyond the clearing, partially hidden by the trees.

A girl.

Blonde hair, bright blue eyes, camera raised.

Recognition hit you a second later.

The girl with the camera.

The one you saw yesterday, standing on her porch, light catching in her hair as she focused on something behind the lens.

Despite the many faces introduced to you yesterday, her face stood out in clarity on most of them.

It's funny how you can remember her despite not knowing her name.

But now she was here. And she had just taken a picture of you.

You blinked at her. She blinked back.

Neither of you moved.

The squirrel let out a startled squeak and bolted into the underbrush. You exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of three remaining walnuts still sitting in your open palm.

Then, finally—

"Uhm," you started, voice breaking the tension. You straightened, dusting dirt from your hands. Now that you were standing, you realized just how much shorter she was up close.

And prettier.

Still, she didn't say a word. Just stared.

A nervous chuckle left your lips. “You’re the girl with the camera yesterday, right?”

She nodded, slow, like her brain was still buffering.

You tilted your head slightly, studying her.

“Oh… You’re that new farmer girl or whatever, aren’t you?” she said, almost absently.

She stood there, staring at you like you had grown a second head, blue eyes flickering over every detail of your face, your clothes—lingering too long, like she was trying to piece something together.

You didn’t understand why she was looking at you like that, but for some reason, you kept talking anyway.

You told her about your grandfather. About how this farm wasn’t planned, how Zuzu City had drained you dry, leaving you with nothing but exhaustion and a letter promising a different life.

You weren’t even sure why you were explaining yourself. Maybe because her presence—so out of place in the middle of the woods—reminded you of who you used to be. Or rather who you are yesterday. The city life, the carefully curated image, the feeling of being misplaced in your own skin.

But Haley wasn’t listening, at least, that’s what you thought.

She was nodding absently, her eyes locked onto your face, mouth slightly parted as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Then you smiled.

A small, amused smile—not at her, not at anything in particular, just at the absurdity of the moment. Of being here, talking to some blonde girl in the woods who looked like she belonged on a magazine cover rather than in Cindersap Forest.

And just like that, something shifted in her expression.

It was so fast, you almost missed it.

Something too bright flashed behind her eyes—an emotion you couldn’t quite place. Shock? Embarrassment? Frustration?

Whatever it was, she reacted to it the way a cornered animal might—by striking first.

"If it weren't for those horrendous clothes, you might actually be pretty."

The words hit you like she slapped you. Hard.

Your smile faltered, dropping so fast you almost felt the sting of it.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

"Excuse me?"

You didn’t raise your voice, but there was an edge to it now—something sharp and unforgiving.

Haley shifted slightly, like she suddenly wanted to be anywhere else. "Actually, never mind," she muttered quickly, brushing it off.

You watched her for a moment longer before exhaling slowly, fingers tightening around the strap of your rucksack.

Maybe this was just how she was. Maybe she hadn’t meant anything by it.

Or maybe she had.

Either way, you weren’t going to waste your energy on it.

Without a word, you reached into your bag and pulled out a daffodil—bright yellow, delicate in your palm, freshly picked from the clearing earlier.

You held it out to her.

"For me?" she asked, voice quieter than before.

You nodded. “Hmm. It kinda looks like you.”

Something in her shifted again.

This time, when she looked at you, it wasn’t annoyance or scrutiny. It was something else. Something softer.

And you find yourself staring a little longer than you should have. Studying her.

She said thank you. You hummed in acknowledgment. But you didn’t smile this time. It felt wrong to fake it.

The silence stretched between you, heavy, thick with something unspoken.

Then, finally, you broke it. "It's my grandpa's."

She frowned slightly. "What?"

You gestured vaguely to your clothes. "These. They were his."

You saw the realization settle in her eyes.

Understanding. Then, maybe, guilt.

"I moved here with nothing but myself after I decided spontaneously that I can't live a life as I had in Zuzu's." You admitted, exhaling a quiet chuckle. "Didn’t plan on it. Just… happened."

"I—"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be so grim." This time, when you smiled, it was small. Distant. But it was real. "Uhm, sorry to cut this short but" you stared at your watch. "I still have to tidy the farm up; you know it's not exactly the cleanest place right now. I just took a break to feed the little guy. I'll catch you later, Haley."

She didn’t respond. You didn’t expect her to.

As you turned and walked away, you felt her eyes on your back the entire time.

You let out a small smile despite it all. She has a pretty foul mouth.

But pretty, nonetheless.

****

Spring 7

The walk from the farm cabin to Leah's cabin was peaceful, the kind of quiet you had come to appreciate since moving here.

You decided to stop by to drop off some fresh salad. Leah had been kind enough to show you the best places to forage when you first arrived, and you figured it was a decent way to return the favor. She had smiled warmly, thanked you, and invited you to stay for a while, but you had politely declined.

Too much work still needed to be done back home.

With the sun hanging high in the sky, you adjusted the strap of your rucksack and started toward the river, figuring you’d take a little break.

The river had always been a place of quiet for you.

After spending the past few days buried in work—clearing debris, tilling soil, hauling supplies back and forth—the stillness of Cindersap Forest was a welcome break.

And that’s when you spotted her.

Haley.

She was crouched near the water, camera in hand, completely absorbed in whatever she was trying to capture. The focused expression on her face was one you hadn’t seen before—her lips slightly parted, eyes narrowed in concentration. It was… different.

Before you could even think about calling out to her, she suddenly stiffened.

She had seen you.

And then—she ignored you.

Then again, you hadn’t expected much of anything when it came to Haley.

You had assumed, after your last encounter, that she’d brush the whole thing off. That you’d become another passing thought, a minor inconvenience in her otherwise polished life. But the way she looked at you in the forest that day… the way she hesitated, the way her lips had parted slightly in something close to regret—it stuck with you longer than it should have.

You haven’t seen her for days. Not that you were counting.

Not that you’d been avoiding her.

No, you were just busy.

Busy enough that you hadn’t gone out of your way to see her, or anyone in particular for that matter.

You watched as she very purposefully looked anywhere but in your direction, her hands tightening slightly around her camera, adjusting the lens like she was just so busy she couldn’t possibly be bothered to acknowledge your presence.

You almost laughed.

Seriously?

The past few days, you had gotten the feeling that she had been looking for you—whether it was in passing comments from the townsfolk or the way you caught glimpses of her lingering near places you know she normally wouldn’t be. But now, when you were literally a few feet away? She suddenly had nothing to say?

Fine.

If she wanted to pretend she didn’t see you, you weren’t going to stop her.

You smirked slightly and kept walking, letting her think she had the upper hand.

Except then—

Her foot slipped.

The wet ground beneath her gave way, and you barely had time to register what was happening before she was stumbling forward, arms flailing, panic flashing across her face.

Her camera—her expensive, very breakable camera—was still strapped around her neck, and if she fell, it wouldn’t just be her hitting the water.

Without thinking, your hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her wrist in a firm grip as you yanked her toward you.

The force of it sent her stumbling forward, right into your chest.

For a second, neither of you moved.

You could feel her breath—sharp, uneven—as she processed what had just happened. Her hands were pressed against your chest, her camera strap tangled between you, and for some reason, she wasn’t pulling away immediately.

"That was a close one," you said, your own heartbeat a little faster than normal.

She jerked back like she had been burned, separating from you so quickly that it was almost comical. "I—I..."

"You okay?"

"I am!" she answered too quickly, laughing nervously.

You tilted your head, watching her fidget. Haley was always composed, always sure of herself—but right now? Right now, she looked like she had no idea what to do.

"Thank you, um..." she trailed off, eyes darting anywhere but at you.

You raised an eyebrow. "It's Y/n, remember?"

Something flickered across her face—annoyance? Embarrassment? Both?

"Of course, I remember," she scoffed, tilting her chin slightly. "I was just… I haven't seen you since whatever and—" she huffed, crossing her arms before realizing her camera was in the way and dropping them again. "I was still shocked, okay?"

You fought back a smirk. "Wait, so you were looking for me?"

The way she reacted was immediate. "No!"

You smirked. Right.

"Well," you said casually, throwing her a sideways glance, "if you were wondering, I was actually busy tidying up the farm. Brought over some things I left in the city."

"Okay." She shrugged, still pretending to be indifferent. "As I said, I wasn’t looking for you or anything."

Your chuckle was genuine this time. "Right, right."

She looked like she wanted to smack the smirk off your face.

"You should be careful next time, though."

"I know." She huffed, brushing her hands off on her skirt. "I was just taking a picture of..."

She turned to point at her subject—only to realize it was gone.

"Great," she grumbled. "It’s gone."

You followed her gaze. "What is?"

"The squirrel!" she flailed, frustration seeping into her tone. "I've been trying to get the perfect shot for hours!"

You hummed in acknowledgment before reaching into your pocket. "Here."

She blinked at the handful of walnuts in your palm, then at you.

"You want me to eat these?"

You chuckled. "No, princess. Hold them out."

She frowned but did as you asked. Without warning, you reached out, wrapping your fingers over hers, positioning her hand so the walnuts rested properly in her palm.

Haley froze.

She didn’t pull away.

You ignored the way your own skin felt too warm from the contact and crouched down beside her, clicking your tongue a few times.

"Just wait a second," you murmured. "They’ll come back."

And sure enough, a moment later, another squirrel peeked out from behind a tree, its tiny nose twitching.

Haley inhaled softly, watching with wide eyes as the small creature scampered closer.

She was entranced.

You found yourself watching her instead.

"It's so cute," she murmured, and for the first time since you met her, the smile on her lips wasn’t forced, wasn’t teasing or sarcastic.

It was real.

Your own smile tugged at the corners of your mouth before you could stop it. "Aren’t they?"

She raised her camera, snapping a quick shot, and you watched as she checked the viewfinder, her brows furrowing in concentration.

"Wow, this looks good." You murmured, stepping behind her to look over her shoulder. "I'm glad you made good use of the natural lighting. Squirrels get frightened a lot with flash."

You didn’t realize how close you had gotten until she suddenly stiffened.

"Kiss ass much?" she muttered, but her voice was quieter than before.

You cleared your throat, pulling back slightly, ears burning. "I'm not—I..." you trailed off, shaking your head. "It's a good photo, okay?"

Haley let out a laugh—loud, unrestrained, warm.

You pretended to be offended. "Haha," you deadpanned, stepping back like you were going to leave.

Immediately, her hand shot out, fingers curling around your wrist for just a second.

"I was kidding!" she said quickly, still laughing. "Yoba, you're so serious."

You looked down at her hand, then back up at her face, before shaking your head with a grin.

"Am not."

"Am too."

"Am not."

"Am too."

The back-and-forth continued, and you weren’t sure why it felt so easy.

When had that happened?

Eventually, you sighed dramatically. "You win, woman."

She grinned in triumph. "Ha, I’m always right anyway."

You rolled your eyes but found yourself watching her again, really watching her, and noticing something different.

You couldn't help but think if she had always been like this and you just never noticed.

Or you had been quick to judge her.

Because the Haley you had come to know the past days wasn’t supposed to be this.

Not this close, not this real, not this... beautiful.

You had seen her before—the perfectly put-together version, always polished, always poised. The kind of person who moved like the world bent to her whims, the kind who scoffed at things that didn’t fit into her carefully curated life.

But this Haley?

This was different.

Windblown hair, dirt smudged against the sleeve of a designer outfit that probably wasn’t meant for trekking through the forest. The usual sharpness in her eyes was softened, replaced with something brighter—something curious.

And damn it, you found yourself staring.

You caught yourself just in time, turning away—only to realize she was staring, too.

Your brows furrowed slightly. Was she…?

"Is there something on my face?" The words left your mouth before you could stop them, genuine confusion lacing your tone.

She blinked rapidly, snapping out of whatever daze she had fallen into. "You're fine," she said quickly, her voice a little too forced, a little too rushed.

You frowned slightly, touching your jaw as if doubting her response.

She huffed, rolling her eyes before reaching into her purse. "Oh, for Yoba’s sake," she muttered, stepping forward.

Before you could react, she was dabbing at your jawline with a small handkerchief.

Your body froze.

Her fingers brushed against your skin, the touch featherlight but warm. She was standing too close now—close enough that you could see the way her lashes fluttered slightly, the way she chewed the inside of her cheek in concentration.

You should step back.

You should.

But you didn’t.

Instead, before you could think better of it, your fingers moved on instinct, pulling a daffodil from your pocket.

And then, just as easily, you tucked it behind her ear.

She froze.

For a split second, you almost regretted it.

Almost.

"As a thank you," you said quietly.

It sounded stupid the moment it left your lips.

You immediately sputtered out something else—some excuse, some way to make this moment not feel as heavy as it did—but your brain was too busy cursing itself into oblivion to form anything coherent.

She startled you again by responding just as frantically, as if she was the one who had overstepped. Something about how she touched you first, how she was just wiping your face, as if that evened things out.

Neither of you made any damn sense.

Then she reached into her bag, pulling out something small.

A photograph.

You hesitated before taking it, eyes widening a little when you realize who’s in it.

It was you.

From the other day.

You stared.

Seeing yourself through someone else’s lens was… strange. You looked at your own expression, the way the light framed your face, the rawness of it all. It didn’t feel posed, didn’t feel artificial.

You wanted to ask her—is this how you see me?

Instead, you swallowed down the words and asked, "Are you sure?"

"Keep it," she said, voice steadier than before. "Please, it's the least I could do after taking that shot without your consent."

Consent.

Funny. That wasn’t something people in the city had cared much about. But she said it so easily, so naturally, like it was just given.

Your lips tugged into a small, genuine smile. You met her eyes, and for the first time, she didn’t look away.

"Thank you," you murmured.

And in response, she didn’t roll her eyes.

For the first time, you saw something else—a brief flicker of relief, like she had been waiting for you to say it.

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, you glanced back down at the photo, running your thumb over the edge of it. That’s when you noticed something.

There was writing on the back.

You barely had time to tilt it before she panicked.

"No problem! Uhm, I still need to cook for lunch, yeah," she blurted out.

It was still morning.

You weren’t going to correct her.

She was already stepping back, clutching the daffodil in her hair like she had only just remembered it was there. "Thank you again for helping me and for the… saving thing. I’ll… I’ll see you around, yeah?"

She bowed slightly—actually bowed—before turning on her heel and walking away.

You blinked.

Did she just…?

You exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking your head as you watched her retreat.

You weren’t even sure if she heard your response.

Maybe you should have teased her about how she had absolutely been looking for you.

But then again…

You had been looking for her, too.

And you liked looking at her.

****

Spring 8

You weren’t exactly expecting much when you walked into town that afternoon.

The note Haley left on the back of the photo had been unexpected enough—an apology, a breakfast invitation. It wasn’t something you thought she’d do, let alone so soon after that flustered mess of an interaction yesterday. You had read it more than once, half-wondering if she regretted writing it the second she left it in your hands.

Still, you had considered showing up, maybe knocking on her door just to see her reaction.

But something about the way she wrote if you’re free told you she wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

So, you didn’t go.

Not today, anyway.

Instead, you had been running errands—picking up some supplies, stopping by the community board—when you spotted something familiar near the playground. A stray hair tie, tangled around the corner of the bench.

And there, sitting on the swings, was Haley.

She looked… relaxed. Not posing for anything, not trying to capture the perfect shot. Just there, with the spring breeze tugging at the loose strands of her hair, her blue tank top bright against the muted colors of the playground. It wasn’t a place you expected to see her, but somehow, it suited her.

And for some reason, you found yourself staring longer than necessary.

You shook the thought away and approached, holding up the hair tie and the daffodils you had picked up earlier.

"Uh, Haley?"

She stiffened immediately like she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

Slowly, she turned to face you. "Oh… hi there," she said, her voice cautious, as if she weren’t entirely sure how to react to you being here.

You barely noticed her initial reaction, already launching into a casual question about whether the hair tie was hers.

She didn’t respond right away, but that was fine. You figured she just needed a second to realize she’d lost it in the first place.

So, you kept talking, mentioning where you found it, all while loosely holding the daffodils at your side.

You noticed her watching you, gaze flickering over you in a way that almost felt calculating, but you assumed she was just listening.

For a second, you could’ve sworn she lingered on your mouth—but that was ridiculous.

Right?

Her expression shifted slightly, something unreadable passing over her features. But instead of answering, she glanced past you, eyes locking onto something in the distance.

You were about to turn, to see what had caught her attention, when—

"Uhm, how do I say this…"

You blinked at her sudden change in tone.

"I appreciate your gifts and such," she continued, shifting uncomfortably. "But please don’t get the wrong idea. It’s not like a little flower will make us besties or anything, you know."

You blinked.

What?

The words hung awkwardly between you, and for a second, you weren’t sure whether to be confused or amused.

Your gaze flicked down to the daffodils in your hand, then back at her.

"Uhm," you started, trying not to grin, "I was just asking if this is your hair tie."

Haley visibly froze.

"Oh!" she squeaked—actually squeaked—before yanking the hair tie from your fingers like it had personally insulted her. "I didn’t even notice it was missing…"

Her cheeks were turning pink.

You tilted your head slightly, watching her fidget. She was embarrassed—deeply embarrassed—but instead of backing down, you decided to push just a little.

"You were saying…?"

The look she gave you was caught somewhere between a glare and complete mortification.

"Sorry for jumping to conclusions,"she muttered quickly, barely meeting your eyes. "I was just… well, never mind."

You chuckled, still not entirely sure what just happened but deciding to let it go.

"Hey, you weren’t wrong." Before she could overthink it, you held out the daffodils. "These are actually for you."

Her fingers twitched slightly but hesitated before taking them.

"And I’m not expecting you to be friends with me just because I give you flowers, you know?"

"Then what else were you expecting?"

The question should’ve sounded snappy, but her voice came muffled this time as she buried her nose in the petals.

You grinned, shifting your weight slightly. "Ever heard of giving a pretty flower to a pretty lady?"

From somewhere behind you, there was a distinct sound.

Something like—

A snort?

Only then did you notice movement from the corner of your eye.

Demetrius.

He was walking past, definitely within earshot, and judging by the way he was fighting back a laugh, he had heard everything.

Haley let out a long, suffering sigh, pressing the flowers closer to her face like they could somehow erase the last two minutes of her life.

But she wasn’t throwing them back at you.

She wasn’t storming off, either.

Instead, she stood there, half-hidden behind the petals, golden hair catching the sunlight in a way that made the moment feel surreal.

Weird.

How can someone be prettier next to a pretty flower?

****

Spring 9

You finally decided to accept Haley’s invitation.

It had been sitting in the back of your mind since she gave you the photo—her apology, neat but uncertain, scrawled onto the back like she had debated every word before leaving it in your hands.

You didn’t take her for the type to apologize easily.

Or at all, really.

But she had.

And if she had gone through the trouble of inviting you to breakfast, the least you could do was show up.

So, on Spring 9, you knocked on the door of 2 Willow Lane.

Emily answered, bright and welcoming as always. “Hey, Y/n! Come in, come in,” she chirped, already moving toward the kitchen. “Tea?”

You hesitated, glancing past her toward the small dining area. The house wasn’t big, only a few rooms. If Haley was here, she’d be just past the kitchen, maybe in her bedroom or the bathroom, but nowhere far enough to not have heard the knock.

“She’ll be out in a sec,” Emily assured you.

So, you waited.

And waited.

And by the time you reached the bottom of your mug, Emily was giving you an apologetic smile, one that silently said, Yeah… she’s not coming out.

You left soon after.

The next morning, you tried again.

This time, Emily didn’t even pretend. She cracked the door open, sighed, and leaned against the frame.

“She’s… busy.”

Which was just code for hiding.

You didn’t have to peek inside to know Haley was there. The way Emily shifted like she was blocking the view, the faintest rustle of movement from the other side of the house—it was obvious.

Emily gave you a knowing look, half amused, half exasperated.

You just smiled, adjusted your satchel, and said, “No worries. Tell her I stopped by.”

And that was that.

You didn’t try again after that.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t notice her.

You saw the way she turned away when she spotted you from across the bridge.

The way she peeked through her window, only to snap the curtain shut when she realized you were looking back.

The way she hesitated—for just a second—whenever you passed by, like she wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out how.

You weren’t sure whether to be amused or frustrated.

She was avoiding you.

That much was obvious.

What wasn’t obvious was why.

So instead of focusing on it, you spent the rest of the day helping Penny.

If Haley was going to keep her distance, you weren’t going to waste time chasing her.

Penny was one of the first people to welcome you to Pelican Town, long before anyone else had warmed up to you. She was quiet, kind, and had an easy presence—one that made it effortless to spend time with her.

On most afternoons, you could be found helping her with Vincent and Jas’s lessons under the big tree outside her trailer. Not because she asked you to, but because you liked it.

She always seemed so grateful, even though you barely did anything.

Which was why you were more than a little surprised when she wasn’t entirely thrilled to see you today.

"You look tired," she observed as you sat down beside her, a book resting in her lap.

You raised a brow. "Do I?"

Penny hummed, giving you a once-over. "You’ve been… distracted lately."

You blinked.

You hadn't expected her to notice.

"I’ve been busy," you said, which wasn’t exactly a lie.

Penny gave you a look. A soft, knowing look that made you feel like she could read right through you.

She didn’t push. She never did.

Instead, she simply turned her attention back to the book and said, “the kids are late again. Want to read until they get here?”

And that was that.

You didn’t bring up Haley.

And Penny didn’t ask.

But later, as you helped Jas with her spelling, you caught Penny watching you, a small, thoughtful smile tugging at her lips.

You had a feeling she knew exactly what was on your mind.

Maybe even better than you did.

****

Haley was still avoiding you.

By now, you were starting to wonder if she thought you were some kind of curse she needed to outrun.

You still weren’t sure what you did to make her act like this.

She had been fine at the playground. She had been flustered, sure, but she had laughed with you, teased you, even handed you a photo like it actually meant something.

And then, suddenly, she was gone.

It wasn’t like you had time to dwell on it, though.

Between the farm, errands, and helping Penny with her lessons, your days were full. You spent the morning delivering leeks to Evelyn, knowing she liked to cook them for George. You spent the afternoon tending to the crops and making sure you didn’t completely ruin the fencing you had hastily built last week.

And now?

Now you were standing in front of the community board, scanning over Pierre’s latest overpriced sale, when a voice pulled you from your thoughts.

"You’re doing it again."

You turned to find Penny standing beside you, arms crossed, her expression patient but pointed.

"Doing what?"

"Spacing out," she said simply.

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. "You should stop paying so much attention to me."

Penny just smiled. "I can’t help it when you’re so obvious."

You gave her a look.

She returned it, unbothered.

After a moment, you sighed and leaned against the board.

"You ever get the feeling that someone’s avoiding you?" you asked.

Penny tilted her head slightly. "Oh?"

You weren’t sure why you asked.

Maybe because you knew Penny wouldn’t tease you for it. Maybe because you knew she’d actually give you an answer worth listening to.

Or maybe because she had already figured it out, and you didn’t feel like pretending otherwise.

Instead of answering immediately, Penny tapped her chin in thought.

"If someone is avoiding you," she said slowly, "there are usually two reasons."

You raised a brow, waiting.

"Either they don’t like you," she said, glancing at you, "or they like you too much."

Your breath caught—just for a second.

Penny noticed.

And she smirked. You know it’s bad when Penny smirks out you. She never does that after all.

You groaned, running a hand down your face. "Penny. Come on."

"What?" she laughed, shrugging. "I’m just saying."

You shook your head, not entirely sure whether to be annoyed or impressed.

And yet, as Penny walked off, you found yourself staring at the daffodils blooming just a few feet away.

The same ones you had given Haley.

The same ones she had buried her nose in, pretending she wasn’t flustered.

The same ones that, for some reason, made your stomach twist.

Either they don’t like you…

Or they like you too much.

You weren’t sure which one was worse.

But you were pretty sure you were about to find out.

****

Spring 12

You hadn’t planned on stopping by 2 Willow Lane today.

But after running errands near the town square, you figured—why not? It wasn’t like you were doing anything urgent back on the farm, and besides… you still owed Haley a proper conversation after she practically disappeared for the last few days.

The last time you saw her, she was stuffing her face into a bunch of daffodils and acting like she wasn’t flustered. Now? You weren’t entirely sure what to expect.

Maybe today would be different.

So, you knocked.

“Hello?”

The moment you stepped inside, you were greeted by two very different expressions—Emily’s, which was polite but amused, and Haley’s, which looked… well, looked like she was about to strangle someone—possibly you, but more likely Emily.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Yes.”

You blinked at Haley’s blunt answer.

Emily let out a heavy sigh, rubbing her temple. “Sorry about that, Y/n/n. Haley’s just complaining because I asked her to clean the cushions—”

“—which you should be doing because it’s your schedule, not mine.” Haley cut in sharply, sending her sister a glare. She then turned to you, her blue eyes sharp and expectant. “It’s important to mention that I already cleaned them last week.”

“Haley…”

“Shut it, Em. I want to hear what she has to say.”

You blinked.

Oh.

This was a thing.

Emily looked exasperated, while Haley looked… weirdly eager?

Did she actually want your opinion on this?

For a second, you hesitated, glancing between them. The last thing you wanted was to somehow make things worse, but at the same time, Haley was looking at you like she really wanted to be validated right now.

"Well," you started carefully, trying to find a middle ground, "why not have this be your one weekly job?"

Haley’s face immediately dropped.

Oh.

Not the answer she wanted, then.

Before you could backtrack, she turned on her heel, clearly done with the conversation.

And for some reason, that didn’t sit right with you.

Without really thinking, you reached out and grabbed her hand.

She froze.

"W-wait," you stammered, suddenly realizing what you’d just done. “I’m not siding with anyone."

Haley stared down at your hands, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she looked back up at you, skeptical. "Sure."

You swallowed. "I just thought it’d be the best course of action, so you two don’t have to argue over it again. If you took this job, Emily wouldn’t bother you again with cleaning the bathroom every two days. Right, Em?"

“Yeah!” Emily agreed immediately, then frowned. “Wait, what?”

You turned back to Haley, watching as her lips twitched—like she was this close to smiling, but was too stubborn to let it show.

“Doesn’t that sound more appealing?” you prompted.

For a second, Haley didn’t say anything. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, she shrugged.

“Alright, you win.”

Emily squinted at her, as if trying to figure out how you had gotten her to agree so quickly. Then, to your surprise, she turned to you with an almost appreciative look. “Thanks, Y/n/n. That was a great solution.”

You chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck. “It’s no problem, really.”

Emily clapped her hands together. “Why don’t you stay for breakfast?”

You opened your mouth to decline, but before you could, Haley spoke.

“Your hands are rough and warm.”

You blinked.

“…Huh?”

Haley’s eyes widened slightly, and then, for the first time, you actually saw her panic.

“I mean—what I meant to say was—” She sputtered, tripping in every sense of the word before taking a deep breath to let out a composed response. “Yeah, you can join us for breakfast.”

You saw Emily smirked and gave Haley a look. “Good! Then I’ll get on with it. Haley, keep our guest occupied.”

“You sure?” you asked when you saw the hesitation in her eyes.

If she's still uncomfortable around your presence then you would politely dip out. You got all the time in the world after all.

“Of course.”

“…Okay,” you said slowly, though something about the way her face was slightly pink made you really want to tease her about it. Instead, you nudged her lightly. “How about we clean these cushions now? So, you won’t have to later?”

Haley scoffed. “Eh. It’s fine. I can do that later.”

“I insist. Two pairs of hands are better than one, y’know?”

“Ugh. Of course you’d say some dorky crap like that,” she grumbled, but you could hear the slightest waver in her voice, like she was fighting back a smile.

You only laughed, moving to lift the couch.

****

Spring 13

You hadn’t really thought about birthdays before moving to Pelican Town.

Back in the city, they had been just another day—sometimes an excuse for coworkers to bring in cake, but mostly just something you marked on a calendar and then forgot.

But here? Here, birthdays mattered.

You had been scanning the community board at Pierre’s when you first saw it—"Haley’s Birthday – Spring 14."

It was written in neat, careful script, decorated with little doodles of flowers in the corners.

For a second, you just stared at it.

You could have ignored it. You weren’t really friends. Acquaintances, sure—closer than before, but still hovering in that weird in-between where it wasn’t clear if she actually liked you or just tolerated you.

But then you thought about the coconut-themed bandage she forced you to wear a few days ago.

Your forehead still had a faint scab from when you accidentally ran headfirst into a low-hanging branch while foraging. Haley had been the only person around when it happened, and instead of laughing at you like she definitely wanted to, she had sighed dramatically, muttered something about “idiots getting themselves killed,” and yanked you inside her house to clean it up.

You still remembered her standing over you, scrutinizing her first-aid kit before pulling out a very unnecessary selection of bandages.

"Sunflowers or coconuts?" she had asked, dead serious.

"That’s… the only choice?"

"Obviously. Pick one."

You had sighed, pointed at the coconut-themed one, and watched as she carefully placed it over your cut like it was some sort of delicate surgical procedure.

"You’re officially less ugly now," she had declared, patting your cheek before walking off.

It had been ridiculous.

But for some reason, you had thought about it again when you saw her name on the birthday list.

So, naturally, you did the most insane thing possible and spent majority of the day trying to find a coconut for her.

Spring 14 - Early Morning

Your quest to find her a perfect gift yesterday had been nothing short of a failure.

Coconuts weren’t local here, after all.

You had checked everywhere (except Joja’s, of course)—Pierre’s, even asking Pam in case she’d somehow stumbled across one.

"Calico Desert," she had said. "That’s where you’ll find ‘em. But unless you got wings, kid, you ain’t getting there anytime soon."

Right. The bus was still out of service.

You made a mental note to prioritize that when working on the community center. Maybe the Junimos could help.

But for now?

You needed another plan.

The traveling merchant.

Marlon had once mentioned her in passing—"If you’re looking for something rare, something out of season, she’s your girl. But she doesn’t sell cheap."

You had barely waited for sunrise before setting out to find her, boots crunching against the damp forest floor as you took the back route toward Cindersap.

By the time you arrived, she was already setting up shop, humming a tune under her breath.

She barely looked up as she greeted you. "Back so soon?"

No time for pleasantries.

"Please tell me you have a coconut in stock," you said, then hastily added, "or a sunflower."

She let out a low hum, tapping her chin, drawing out the moment just to toy with you.

"Mmm… you’re in luck. Got a few coconuts left. But they aren’t cheap."

Of course, they weren’t.

Didn’t matter.

You pulled out the pouch from your pocket, untying the string with practiced ease. The weight of it was familiar, comfortable.

More than enough.

The merchant raised an amused brow as you handed over the payment without hesitation.

"Didn’t even ask the price, huh?"

You just smiled, rolling the coconut in your palm, satisfied.

"Didn’t need to."

It was plump, perfectly shaped—exactly the kind of thing you imagined Haley would appreciate. You even took the time to wrap it (poorly) with a ribbon you found lying around in your house.

It looked ridiculous.

But handing it to her unwrapped felt even weirder.

And now?

All that was left was to find her.

Late Morning

You checked the beach first.

Then the town square.

Then the entire stretch of road leading to Marnie’s ranch.

Nothing.

You were starting to wonder if she had just locked herself in her house all day when, finally, you spotted a familiar blonde figure sitting on a bench in the playground.

Huh, this scene feels familiar.

For some reason, the sight made you pause.

She wasn’t posing. She wasn’t talking to anyone.

She was just there, her arms loosely wrapped around her knees, her gaze distant.

For a moment, you considered turning around.

But instead, you stepped forward.

"Thought I’d find you here."

She looked up, startled, before quickly masking it with an indifferent shrug. “Done with your chores?”

You plopped down beside her. "Woke up extra early to finish them all."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why? You have plans?"

Your stomach did a weird little flip.

"Had to run some errands," you said, reaching into your rucksack, "and I wanted to give you this."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Give me your hands."

The second the words left your mouth, you regretted them.

That sounded way too serious. Way too something.

And then, to make things even worse, you followed up with:

"Just trust me, Hay."

Oh, Yoba. No. Abort. Abort.

Why did you say that? You never called her that before.

She was definitely going to call you out for it. Or roll her eyes. Or—

…Or she’d just listen.

Because, to your absolute shock, she sighed and held out her hands.

You barely had time to process your overwhelming relief before you carefully placed the coconut in her palms.

She blinked.

Stared down at it.

And then, for the first time since you met her, she seemed completely, utterly speechless.

"I… I love coconuts."

You exhaled a quiet laugh, suddenly feeling like maybe—maybe—this was worth all the trouble. "I know."

She clutched it a little tighter. "How did you know?"

You rubbed the back of your neck, feeling weirdly shy. "Remember when you patched up my cut? You made me pick between a sunflower band-aid or a coconut one. So, I kinda assumed they were your favorite."

She let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “B-but how? You can’t just summon a coconut tree, and there’s no way you had time to go to the desert—"

"It was pure luck," you admitted. "The traveling merchant had a few in stock. But she warned me they’d sell out before noon, so I got there early."

Her fingers traced the edges of the ribbon, her expression soft.

Then, almost too quietly, she murmured, “Thank you. It’s really sweet of you to do all this.”

"No problem. I like it when you smile." You shrugged, trying to play it off. "Happiness looks good in you."

Something flickered in her eyes.

For a brief moment, neither of you spoke.

The park was quiet, the sun warm against your skin.

And in that stillness, you realized something—

You weren’t just acquaintances anymore.

You weren’t quite friends, either.

But whatever this was?

It was something.

****

It had started as a casual thing.

You never really planned on showing up at 2 Willow Lane every morning.

But after that first breakfast—where Emily practically shoved a plate in your hands and Haley begrudgingly tolerated your presence—you just… kept coming back.

At first, it had been an excuse to escape the overwhelming solitude of the farm. Waking up at dawn, toiling in the fields, eating alone—it was fine. But it wasn’t exactly fun.

The mornings here were different.

Emily would hum while cooking, always somehow awake and cheerful despite her late-night shifts at the saloon. Haley, on the other hand, would sit at the table looking half-asleep, hair an absolute mess, grumbling about how “humans shouldn’t be awake before 9.”

It was domestic. Easy. Nice.

And you liked it.

So, you kept coming back.

And for some reason, Haley never told you to stop.

Which was weird, because Haley Carter absolutely would have told you to stop if she actually wanted to.

Emily must’ve noticed something too, because one morning, after you had helped clean up the dishes, she pulled you aside with a conspiratorial grin.

"Haley's a little calmer when you're around, Y/n/n."

You had laughed, shaking your head. "I think she just doesn’t want me to see her throwing a spoon at you."

Emily only winked.

And maybe—just maybe—Haley had heard, because the next day, when you showed up at their door like usual, she muttered something under her breath before letting you in.

Something suspiciously close to "You’re late."

****

The thing about Pelican Town was that it had a rhythm.

People followed routines here. Maru always took the same route to work. Jodi always went grocery shopping on Mondays. Penny always had her class under the big tree at the same time each day.

And Haley?

Haley had patterns too.

At first, you thought it was coincidence.

That every time you turned a corner and saw her, it was just luck.

But after a while, you started to realize that maybe—maybe—you had started to learn her habits without meaning to.

Like how she always went to the riverbank after lunch if it was sunny.

Or how she stopped by Pierre’s around noon but only ever bought fruit.

Or how she took the long way home through the park when she thought nobody was looking.

You weren’t following her or anything. That would be weird.

But sometimes, your paths just… lined up.

And, more and more, it started feeling less like an accident.

Because instead of rolling her eyes and storming off like she used to, Haley had started doing something else entirely.

She started stopping.

Not always. Not every time.

But sometimes—when you greeted her in passing or made some dumb joke—she’d actually pause, sigh dramatically, and talk to you.

Complain about the weather. Ask if you had seen Alex. Casually mention that she had "accidentally" taken a picture of you feeding the squirrels and no, you definitely couldn’t see it.

And if she really wasn’t in the mood?

Well.

She still didn’t walk away.

****

You stood outside 2 Willow Lane, balancing a small crate in your arms as you knocked lightly before pushing the door open.

Haley was already at the table, sipping what looked like a strawberry smoothie. She glanced up as you entered, giving you a once-over before looking back at her drink.

“You’re late.”

You blinked.

"...It’s 8:07."

"Exactly."

You huffed out a laugh, kicking the door shut behind you as you set the crate down on the counter.

Emily peeked over from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “Oh! More eggs and milk?”

“Figured it’s only fair,” you shrugged. “Can’t keep letting you guys feed me for free.”

Emily waved you off. “Oh, please. You’re basically family at this point.”

Haley made a noise suspiciously close to a choke.

You didn’t comment on it.

Instead, you slid into your usual seat as Emily set a plate of pancakes in front of you with a satisfied grin.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew it.

This was a routine now.

And neither of you seemed to mind.

****

Mornings at 2 Willow Lane had become second nature by now.

You didn't even hesitate before knocking, pushing the door open with a familiar ease, half-expecting Emily’s usual cheery greeting.

But instead of Emily, the first thing you heard was Haley grunting.

A frustrated, muffled noise, followed by a sharp “Come on, just open already!”

You stopped mid-step, blinking.

You weren’t entirely sure what you had walked into, but based on the sheer determination in her voice, it was either a battle for her life… or a particularly stubborn jar.

Considering this was Haley, the latter seemed more likely.

Peering into the kitchen, your suspicions were confirmed.

Haley stood at the counter, face scrunched up in frustration, gripping a jar like it had personally wronged her. She twisted the lid with all the strength she could muster, letting out another huff when it refused to budge.

You bit back a laugh, watching for a moment as she scowled at the object like sheer hatred alone might force it to open.

Yeah, this was too good to pass up.

"You need some help?" you finally spoke up, amusement thick in your voice.

Haley jumped.

She turned quickly, blue eyes wide with surprise before she covered it up with an exaggerated scowl.

"Ugh. How does it feel seeing me in pain?"

You grinned. There it is.

"Aw, does the baby need help?" you teased, crossing your arms as you leaned against the counter.

That was a mistake.

The look she shot you could have incinerated you on the spot.

"Hmp," she scoffed, holding the jar closer to her chest like a challenge. "I was about to cook breakfast for us, but now I don't feel like doing it."

You held up your hands in mock surrender, biting back another chuckle. "Alright, alright, miss sassy pants. Come here."

Before she could protest, you reached over, tugging lightly at the loop of her belt to pull her closer.

You hadn't really thought about it—just something casual, something natural—but the way she froze made your brain catch up real fast.

Oh.

Had that been too bold?

But before you could dwell on it, you grabbed the jar from her hands, twisted the lid with ease, and plopped it back into her grasp like it was nothing.

"Piece of cake," you said smugly, flashing her a grin.

For a second, she just stared.

Then—

"Hmp. You're stronger than you look," she muttered, crossing her arms with a faux pout.

You quirked an eyebrow. Stronger than you look?

"Excuse me?" you repeated, placing a hand on your hip. "What do you mean stronger than I look?"

Haley gave you a once-over, not particularly impressed. "I mean, you’re kinda…" She gestured vaguely at you. "Scrawny-looking under all those baggy farm clothes."

You gasped. Scrawny?!

Alright. Fine. Now it was personal.

Rolling up your sleeves, you flexed dramatically, putting on your best Alex-worthy showmanship. "I’ll have you know, Miss Carter, farm work is no joke."

Haley blinked.

Her mouth parted slightly—just for a second—before she quickly turned away, crossing her arms tighter. "Y-yeah, yeah, show-off."

Huh.

Weird reaction.

She had seen Alex flex a thousand times and usually mock-gagged at the sight.

But right now?

You had a very strong suspicion she had definitely just checked you out.

Oh.

Your stomach did something.

You quickly shoved that something into a box and locked it away, because nope, not unpacking that today.

And then—

"I wonder how many other ladies have been lucky enough to see that impressive display."

You nearly choked on air.

WHAT.

You blinked at her, half-expecting her to burst out laughing or tell you she was joking, but—

No.

She was smirking.

Smirking, while still not looking directly at you, her fingers toying with the hem of her shirt like she hadn’t just said that out loud.

Your brain short-circuited.

It took a full three seconds before you recovered enough to bark out a laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. "Uh, how many are you?"

It was Haley’s turn to choke on her own spit.

Her face turned pink.

You grinned.

"I’m gonna hit you," she sputtered, clutching the jar like it was a weapon.

You laughed, backing up with your hands raised. "Okay, okay! I’ll help you cook, alright?"

"Fine," she muttered, recovering quickly. "But you’re going to boil the pasta. You suck at making the sauce."

"Yeah, yeah, M'lady. Let’s do it your way."

****

You weren’t entirely sure how the two of you worked so well in the kitchen, but somehow it just… clicked.

Maybe it was because Haley actually knew how to cook.

Like—really knew how to cook.

You had expected her to just throw ingredients into a pan and hope for the best (or, at worst, order you to do all the hard work), but nope.

She worked with practiced ease, moving around the kitchen like she had done this a thousand times before.

Which—maybe she had.

It wasn’t something she boasted about.

Which made it all the more surprising when you found yourself… actually impressed.

"Okay, stir gently," she instructed as you stood next to her at the stove. "You don’t want the sauce to break."

You did as told, though not without a little dramatic flair. "Like this, boss?"

"Less stupid, more stirring."

"Wow. So bossy."

"Yeah, well, someone has to keep you in check."

You grinned but didn’t argue.

Because standing here, in the warmth of 2 Willow Lane, listening to Haley boss you around while the scent of fresh pasta filled the air—

You realized something.

You didn’t mind at all.

****

Spring 20

In hindsight, challenging Shane to a drinking contest was a mistake.

You weren’t a lightweight by any means, but you also weren’t a regular at the Stardrop Saloon, knocking back beers like they were water. Unlike Shane, who, for all his problems, had a tolerance that could rival Pam’s.

Still, it had been his birthday, and after spending weeks drowning in farm work with barely enough time to breathe, a part of you thought—why not?

Bad. Idea.

The first couple of drinks had been fine. You laughed, listened to Gus grumble about Shane’s tab, even managed to hold a decent conversation with Sam before he had to carry Vincent home.

But by drink number five, the world tilted just a little.

By drink number seven, you were buzzed.

By drink number nine, Shane was on the floor, Pam was laughing at you, and Emily was calling for backup.

And now?

Now you were leaning against the bar, eyes half-lidded, vaguely aware that someone was helping Shane, but—

Oh.

Oh, she’s here.

Even through your drunken haze, you’d recognize that perfume anywhere—clean, soft, expensive.

A sleepy grin pulled at your lips.

"Hay…? Is that you…?"

She sighed, her voice half-exasperated, half-soft. "Yeah, it’s me."

Her arm looped around your waist, pulling you upright as she guided you toward the door.

Warm.

She was warm.

And soft.

And so close.

Haley smelled really good, which wasn’t surprising, but it was distracting because your brain was already a mess and now there were too many thoughts happening at once.

"You smell geurd…" you mumbled.

Haley stiffened against you, and if you were sober, you might’ve enjoyed the way her breath hitched.

"I know," she retorted, voice tight. "And you smell like beer."

Which—fair.

But you could still smell the lemon and mint under all of it, the scent of fresh air and something sweet that made your stomach flip.

She smelled better than anyone had the right to.

You let her drag you outside, vaguely aware of voices around you—Pam yelling something about kids these days, Leah offering help (which Haley firmly declined, for some reason?), and Penny’s gentle concern.

Didn’t matter.

None of them were Haley.

You barely noticed when the town’s quiet streets replaced the saloon’s warm glow, the crisp spring air biting at your flushed skin. The cobblestone path blurred under your feet, and if it weren’t for Haley, you’d probably be face-first in a bush.

"Where… we going?" you slurred, stumbling slightly.

"Home," she grunted, adjusting her hold on you. You chuckled, amused by how done she sounded. "Yoba, just how many beers did you drink? Surely, you're not that much of a lightweight."

You held up three fingers. "I had nine." You thought for a second, then added, "Shane, I think… had seven."

Haley snorted. "I’m pretty sure I’m not dumb enough to count three on your fingers."

"It’s three times three," you explained sagely.

"Yeah, sure."

"Yeah! And I'm completely sober."

You took two confident steps forward—

And immediately tripped.

Haley caught you, her arm tightening around your waist before you could faceplant into Marnie’s fence.

"Oops—" You grinned, looking up at her through hazy eyes. "Thanks, babe."

Haley froze.

Like. Froze.

Her whole body went stiff, and for a second, you thought she might actually drop you.

Her grip on you tightened instead.

You felt her heartbeat pick up, her breath hitch slightly as she stared at you, her face suddenly red.

Weird.

You liked that.

"Wow, you sure are flirty tonight," she muttered, clearing her throat. "You sure you're sober?"

You hummed, contemplating. Were you?

You stopped walking. Haley turned, confused, as you stood still under the streetlights, the dim glow casting shadows across her face.

You wanted to remember this.

Because it felt… important.

Because Haley Carter was looking at you.

Because Haley Carter was holding you.

And because, drunk or not, you had just said something honest.

"The only time I allow myself to be this close to you," you murmured, your words slurring less now, "without my heart pounding in my chest, is in the reality I’ve created in my dreams."

You lifted your head, searching her expression.

Her lips parted slightly, eyes locked onto yours, uncertainty flickering across her face.

The air between you felt… different. Thicker.

"So, tell me, Haley…" you breathed, voice quieter now.

Your head tilted, gaze tracing over the softness of her features, the way her lashes fluttered, the way her fingers tightened slightly around your wrist.

"Am I sober, or is this just a dream?"

And Yoba—

You really, really hoped she had the answer.

****

Spring 24

You had never run away from anything in your life.

Not when Joja tried to groom you into something you weren’t.

Not when the weight of a legacy you wanted no part in nearly crushed you.

Not when you packed up your bags, left everything behind, and started fresh in a quiet little town where no one knew your name, your past, or how much money you technically had sitting untouched in a city bank.

But Haley Carter?

You ran from her.

For four days.

And Yoba help you, but you had no idea what you were even running from.

Maybe it was the way she had looked at you that night—half-lidded blue eyes too sharp, too soft, too knowing. Maybe it was the warmth of her fingers ghosting over your wrist, your shoulder, your neck. Maybe it was the fact that you had called her babe, and for once in her life, she hadn’t snapped at you for it.

No.

It was worse than that.

It was the way she hadn’t corrected you at all.

You woke up the next morning with a splitting headache, wearing nothing but shame and your bedsheets, and found Haley in your kitchen, wearing your damn shirt, making breakfast like it was the most normal thing in the world.

It had nearly killed you.

And then she had turned around, grinning like she knew exactly what she was doing to you, and teased you about your weak alcohol tolerance like it was all so simple.

So, yeah. You ran.

Straight into the mines, where monsters were easier to fight than whatever the hell was happening to your heart.

Away from breakfast invitations, away from Emily’s knowing glances, away from your own stupid, reckless, painfully obvious feelings.

It wasn’t like you expected her to chase after you. But you also didn’t expect her to notice your absence this much.

You had meant to skip the Flower Dance.

Even if dancing was something you could probably master in five minutes if you really tried.

Even if the festival would have been another thing to add to the ever-growing list of things you were unexpectedly good at.

That list was getting long. Too long.

At first, farming had been just another thing to conquer.

You had picked up a shovel for the first time, read a few books on agriculture, and within weeks, your farm was thriving like a well-oiled machine.

Your crops flourished, your animals followed you like a shepherd, and the once-abandoned land now looked alive in a way that felt almost... personal.

And somewhere along the way, it stopped being about proving you could do it.

Somewhere along the way, you started waking up excited to see what had grown overnight.

Somewhere along the way, you fell in love with it.

Not because it was something you were good at, but because it was something that felt like yours.

And Haley Carter? She was the first thing in your life that didn’t come easy.

And maybe that’s why you had been avoiding her.

Because you didn’t know what to do about something you couldn’t master in a day.

And then, of course, Alex has other plans.

Before you knew it, he grabbed you by the collar before the Flower Dance and forced you back into her orbit.

****

"Old Mac here can replace me. I already taught her the moves."

You nearly choked on your own breath. "What?"

Alex grinned like he was enjoying this way too much. "You got this. There's no need to worry."

"I don't—"

"You got this." He cut you off. You barely had enough time to wrap your head around what was happening before Alex was shrugging off his jacket and shoving it into your hands.

Haley’s eyes were already on you.

You could feel them. Watching. Waiting.

And you?

You were panicking. Internally, of course.

Externally? Blank face. Neutral expression. Playing it cool.

But inside? Complete. Freaking. Chaos.

Penny, bless her, tried to intervene. "Wouldn't it be better if Sam takes your place since he's already familiar with the dance?"

"Um, no," Alex dismissed the idea immediately, grinning wider when he saw the panic in your eyes. "Haley feels more comfortable dancing with Old Mac. That's more important."

Your entire soul left your body.

Your mouth was dry. Your brain was short-circuiting. You wanted to look at Haley but—NOPE.

Because if you looked at her, you might see hope. Or worse—disappointment.

And Yoba help you, you didn’t know which was scarier.

Then she said it.

"Wait a second—can’t we get a say in this?!"

And your stomach sank.

Oh. Oh.

So she didn’t want to.

You should have expected that. You should have prepared for that.

You should have let yourself believe that was coming. But for some reason, it still stung.

For a split second, your fingers curled around the jacket in your hands, grip tightening, something raw twisting in your gut. You weren’t sure what you had been hoping for, but it sure as hell wasn’t this.

The rush of disappointment came so suddenly that it nearly threw you off balance.

Of course, she didn’t want to. Why would she?

You had never felt less qualified for anything in your entire life.

The moment was so quick—so fleeting—that you barely had time to process it before Alex shut her down with a cheery, "Nope!"

"Very well, then." Mayor Lewis clapped his hands together. "Let the festival begin!"

****

Haley was warm.

That was your first thought when you wrapped your hands around her waist.

Your second thought was, I should not be thinking about this.

But it was too late. Her perfume—light vanilla and something faintly floral—wrapped around your senses, and the heat of her skin, even through layers of silk, burned. For a second, you forgot how to move.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

Her voice was quieter now, breathless.

You swallowed hard and forced yourself to meet her eyes.

Haley, in white silk and soft curls, looking up at you with something you couldn’t quite name. Your heart stumbled over itself.

Her hands—small, delicate, trembling ever so slightly—rested on your shoulders.

You should say something. Anything.

But all that came out was, "Huh?"

Not your best moment.

Haley had just said something, something important—and all you could do was stand there like an idiot while your mind scrambled to catch up.

Her voice was quieter now, breathless, uncertain in a way you rarely heard.

"You were avoiding me."

Your grip on her waist tightened.

She noticed. Of course, she noticed.

You swallowed hard, the warmth of her hands on your shoulders burning through the fabric of your suit.

Your first instinct was to deflect. To say something easy. Lighthearted. Something that wouldn’t make your chest feel like it was caving in under her stare.

But the way she looked at you, with something too sharp, too knowing, too close to understanding what you weren’t saying, made it impossible to lie.

You scrambled for an excuse, anything to steer away from the truth.

"You don’t want to dance with me."

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, sharp and certain, like she had already decided the answer for you.

Something inside you twisted. You felt it—the briefest flicker of disappointment, sharp and bitter, before you could shove it down. It was stupid. Irrational.

But for a single, awful moment, you thought maybe she had been hoping you’d refuse. Your stomach twisted.

"I wasn’t…"

Her blue eyes narrowed. "Could’ve fooled me."

You barely had time to process the sting behind her words before the music started.

Instinct took over. Without thinking, you twirled her.

Haley gasped softly, caught off guard, her hands instinctively tightening against your shoulders to keep herself steady.

And just like that—you were dancing.

The steps came easily. Too easily.

It should have been hard to match the rhythm. It should have taken weeks of practice to master the precise footwork. Alex had only shown it to you once. Like everything else in your life—it only took once.

And Haley? She moved effortlessly, like she was made for this. Like she was made to fit against you like this.

She returned to your arms just as swiftly as she left them, her fingers curling tighter around the fabric of your coat.

"You wanted to dance with Penny, didn’t you?"

You faltered—barely, but enough for her to notice.

"I don't."

The words left your mouth too fast. Too immediate.

Haley’s lips parted slightly, startled by your complete lack of hesitation.

"You don’t?"

You hesitated now. Not because it wasn’t true—because it was.

Because saying it out loud, with her, right there, in your arms, looking at you like she was trying to solve a puzzle—felt like admitting to something much bigger.

Something you weren’t ready to name. And yet—

"I don’t want to dance with anyone but you."

There. There it was.

Your dumb, reckless mouth running away from you again.

The words had left before you could stop them, slipping through your defenses like water through cracked stone. And now—now there was no taking them back.

Haley stilled in your arms. Her grip on your shoulders had eased, but her eyes never left yours—sharp, searching, waiting. A slow inhale.

"Then why?" she pressed, voice steady but insistent. "Where were you? I haven’t seen you in days. You haven’t visited us for breakfast."

You swallowed thickly. Damn it.

Of course, she noticed. Of course, she counted.

Four days.Four days of avoiding her. Four days of working yourself into exhaustion, of diving headfirst into the mines with reckless abandon, hoping—stupidly, naively—that maybe if you buried yourself deep enough, you could outrun whatever this was. Whatever she was doing to you.

But the thing about Haley Carter?

She never let anything slide.

"Tell me."

There was something in her voice that left no room for avoidance. No escape.

And when your eyes met hers again, the music, the crowd, the festival—all of it ceased to exist.

It was just her. Just you.

And the four days of silence stretched between you, fragile as glass.

You inhaled, forcing the words out. "I was out mining."

A flicker of something—doubt? frustration?—crossed her face.

"And?"

You hesitated. Your fingers tensed against her waist.

She was close. So close.

You could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her dress, the faintest scent of coconut and vanilla clinging to her hair.

And Yoba help you, you were so weak for it.

"And maybe I was kind of avoiding you…"

Her glare was instant.

Your stomach plummeted. Oh, shit.

Panic sets in.

You scrambled to backpedal, hands tightening around her waist like that would somehow ground you.

"I was embarrassed that I puked on you!"

A beat of silence. A single blink. And then—

"You what?"

You winced. Oh, fantastic. Perfect.

You had somehow, miraculously, spectacularly, made this even worse.

Desperate to recover, you hurriedly added, "Alex told me it was your self-care day and… I know I ruined it for you. And now I ruined your dance."

The irritation in her eyes softened.

Shifted into something else. Something gentler. Something far more dangerous.

"Idiot."

It should have been biting. It should have been mocking.

But instead, it came out like a sigh of relief.

And then, like it was the most natural thing in the world—

Her arms relaxed completely, hands slipping from your shoulders to wrap around your neck. Your breath hitched.

She let you hold her. No hesitation. No resistance. Just… trust.

The warmth of her breath tickled your collarbone as she whispered, "You haven’t ruined anything."

"Yet." You chuckled, squeezing her waist just a little—just enough to feel real.

"You know…" Haley’s voice dropped to something softer, something almost dangerous.

She leaned closer—so close that her lips nearly grazed your jaw.

"You smell good today."

You nearly stopped breathing. Her words hit you like a punch to the gut.

You could take on a horde of monsters in the mines. You could rebuild an entire town from the ground up.

But this? This had you completely, utterly defenseless.

And then, like a goddamn idiot, you whispered, "Had to smell my best for my queen, right?"

She smiled. She actually smiled.

And Yoba help you, you were so, so doomed.

****

A/n: I only wrote this different perspective for fun and yet I found myself giggling as I wrote the scenes. From Haley’s perspective, it’s completely and utterly different. It was messy, chaotic and uncertain. It was a push and pull of some kind. And our farmer, the ever calm and collected between the two of them has been fighting a losing battle all this time. She was better with emotions but she’s quite a runner, and well… denial is her thing also haha. Also if you noticed, some dialogues were different but with the same thought. I thought it’d be a fun detail to add that since it’s from a different perspective, they have a different way of narrating the scenes. Anyway, I have to stop here because it’s getting far too long. I also maxed out the block per post soooo . 🤷‍♀️ I also didn’t plan to do the farmer’s perspective for every chapter but I found myself writing it nonetheless. I find it quite fun and interesting that while writing, I’m starting to learn the qualities and quirks of the farmer even though she’s my own creation.

If you want, you can listen to Every Breath You Take by The Police, Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer, and Bags by Clairo while reading because this special chapter is inspired by these songs.

Anyhow, sorry for the long wait. I only have time on Saturdays to write so please forgive me. I hope you’re all doing well. Ciao!

#stardew valley #haley x farmer #haley x reader #stardew farmer #stardew haley #stardew fanfic #haley x you #stardew haley x farmer

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vodika-vibes · 1 year ago

Note

I‘m deep in my Jango feels again, like who allowed him to be this gorgeous???

anyways, I loved the jaster piece you wrote recently with the cabin-getaway and under the risk of being a copycat, would you mind writing something similar for Jango? Because it was just *chefs kiss*

Summer Vacation

Summary: Jango surprises you with a beach getaway.

Pairing: Jango Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 1457

Warnings: Some smut, very spicy. Implications of exhibitionism(?). Reader likes being recorded for Jango and Jango alone, I don't know what I'd call that.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So, I went the opposite way than I did with Jaster! Jango gets a beautiful summer getaway, while Jaster got a winter wonderland. Now all I need is a matching Boba request, and I'll have collected the whole set...like pokemon cards.

“Jango, where are we going?” You ask as you allow him to lead you across the sandy beach, “You said you had a surprise, and then never finished your thought.”

“That’s because it’s supposed to be a surprise, cyare.” Jango replies with a roll of his eyes, even as he laces his fingers with yours and pulls your joined hands to his lips.

“Yes, but I hate surprises. They tend to involve me getting shot at.”

He laughs, a warm and open sound that makes you smile up at him, “Not this one. I promise.”

He leads you down a stone pathway, and you do have to admit the ambience here is rather nice, even if you aren’t, quite, dressed for the occasion. It’s hot, for one, and though the white sandy beaches and the clear blue ocean are lovely, you’re not sure that the sand will agree with your armor.

Or his, for that matter.

Jango guides you to a decently sized bungalow, “Here we are. Our home away from home for the next month.”

You blink at the building, and then up at him, “We’re staying here?”

“Yup.”

“Are there even any other people on this island?” You ask, bemused, as he leads you towards the house.

“Not a one.” He grins at you, “It’s just you and me.”

“Oh.” You breathe out, “I thought this was a job, but it’s a vacation, isn’t it?”

“I did promise you one, didn’t I?” He pushes open the door, and picks up a note sitting on a nearby table, “So, we have two weeks of groceries, I’ll get a comm call before the next food delivery.”

You look around, and inhale deeply, the scent and sounds of the ocean filling you with a sense of peace you haven’t felt in ages, before you frown at him, “Jango, I don’t have any swimwear…or anything at all suited for this weather.”

“Lucky for you that I’m an expert planner, and ordered everything that you might need.” Jango nods towards the bedroom, “Go ahead and see.”

“Alright,” You turn towards the bedroom, and push the door open. The room is large and open, and you note that there’s a sliding glass door that leads you to an outdoor shower, but it also looks like it leads right to the water too.

You take a moment to tug your armor off, neatly setting everything on the bed, before you start opening drawers. The top drawer is dedicated to bathing suits. So you grab one and hold it up. All bikinis, not that you’re surprised, in a wide array of colors, and all of them are impossibly skimpy.

You grin, you really shouldn’t be surprised. Jango, after all, has never been shy about wanting to see you in less.

Slowly you trail your fingers over the flimsy material, your head tilting to the side as you listen to Jango move around the house, and a mischievous smile crosses your face.

Quickly, you pull off your bodysuit and your undergarments, tossing everything to the side to be dealt with later, and pull on the bikini.

It fits perfectly, though you’d have been surprised if it hadn’t, and was a lot strappier than you first thought. Tight spandex crisscrosses your entire body, and you hope that Jango got sunblock, or else you’re going to have the stupidest tan lines-

You open the closet and see that it has a few dresses, but much more importantly, there are sandals lining the bottom of the closet. You grab a pair that matches the bathing suit and then step into the hall.

“Jango?”

“In the kitchen!” Jango replies, and you follow the sound of his voice, “It looks like they left recipe cards for some of these meals,” He adds, lowering his voice when he hears you entering the kitchen, “Which is good, because I don’t think I’ve ever heard of some of these thing-” He finally turns to look at you and he stops mid-sentence, his gaze dropping to your bikini clad body.

“Well,” You ask, with a wide grin, “How do I look?”

“Amazing. I knew that would look amazing on you.” Jango replies as he takes a step closer to you and reaches out to brush his fingers along your side. He’s removed his armor at some point, but you decide it’s not important at the moment.

You dance just out of his reach, and Jango releases a frustrated little groan, “Babe-”

You grin as you remain just out of reach, “You know, I’m pretty sure I saw a cabana outside,” You muse thoughtfully, “And I do deserve a vacation-” You take a step back, “I think I’m going to go and lay under the cabana. I’m sure I have a book or two that I can read.”

Jango’s eyes glitter, “Wouldn’t you rather stay inside, in the air conditioning, with me?” He offers, very, very temptingly.

“Hm…tempting, but no. You can come and join me outside, if you like though.” You step closer to him and drag one painted nail down his chest, and only stop once you reach the waist of his bottoms, “I’m sure you bought yourself some swimwear too?”

“I did,” Jango’s voice is soft, and a little breathless.

Your smile is blinding, “Then you can join me outside.” You step back again, and turn to flounce out the room, and you muffle a giggle when you hear him groan.

You make your way to the cabana, kicking your sandals off as you settle on the plush bed, and stretch out. Shielded from the sun, and with a clear view of the ocean and probably sunset, you feel positively spoiled.

Jango joins you not long after, wearing a matching pair of swim trunks, and holding two towels, which he tosses over one of the chairs, “Well now, aren’t you a vision?” He says lazily as he lifts his comm to snap a holo of you.

You grin at him and move to sit prettily on your knees, not quite posing for him, but not quite not posing for him either. And your grin widens when you hear the sound of him taking another photo.

“You like what you see, Jango?” You tease.

“Always.” His voice has taken on a husky quality, “Why don’t you take that top off and show off those pretty tits of yours, cyare?”

You smile at him consideringly, “I have a better idea,” You finally decide, “Come here, Jango.” It’s a request

He obeys you like it’s an order, and he doesn’t hesitate to cross the small space to stand next to the bed, and you move to sit on your knees at the edge of the bed, and he places his hand on the top of your head, “You going to take me in your mouth, cyare?”

You hum and lightly trail your fingers across his stomach and to his hips, “If you don’t mind.”

“Have I ever?”

“There’s a first time for everything,” You reply lightly, as you hook your fingers in the band of his swimsuit and wait for him to give his permission. As soon as it’s given, you gently slide them down his legs, and Jango kicks them to the side.

Jango’s cock is long and thick, and is already so very hard. You lean in and press a feather light kiss against the weeping tip, “You’re already so hard,” You murmur lightly.

“Course I am, it’s you.” He replies easily, and then a low groan falls from him as you lick a strip down the length of his cock and then back up. You know how he likes to be touched after all. “You know what I really want, though, cyare?” He murmurs through a moan as you take the head of his cock between your lips and suck gently.

“What’s that?” You ask, as you pull away and lazily take him in hand and start a slow, teasing, pace.

“You.” His gaze is dark with desire. “Want you to ride me, cyare. Want you to ride me while I record it.”

Your hand pauses and desire shoots to your core.

“Mm, I know you like being recorded, cyare.” He murmurs, “Especially since you know I’ll use the recordings when I’m missing you.”

On one hand, you really want to give him a blow job. On the other hand, his offer sounds amazing-

Jango grins, knowing he’s already won, “Come on, cyare. Get up. Get naked. Want you to put on a show for me. Can you do that, baby?”

Your face heats with slight embarrassment, and you slowly release him, “How much of a show do you want?”

Heat flares in his dark eyes, “Everything, cyare. Give me everything,”

#star wars #star wars legends #jango fett x reader #jango x reader #18+ fic #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #answered asks

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juniper-sunny · 3 years ago

Text

The Art in the Heart - Chapter 1

You’re a painter by trade, but an unexpected splash of color crashes into your life in the form of a handsome stranger. Something tells you he’s no ordinary work of art…

Everybody Lives AU | Pre-Act I | Silco x Reader | Female!Reader | Slow Burn | Eventual Smut | Fluff | Mild Angst || SFW | WC: 2.07k

ao3 || Masterlist

───────────────── ●◉◎◈◎◉● ─────────────────

Zaun is a beautiful canvas.

Not many would agree with you, but you’ve always been able to sense it. Whether it’s literal graffiti in crumbling stone alleyways beautiful enough to rival anything in a Piltie art gallery, or a stubborn dandelion piercing through concrete and thriving against all odds in the chem-choked atmosphere.

You wish more people could see it the way you do.

It’s always been your calling to bring color to the Undercity, and you’re one of the lucky few Zaunites who got to turn it into a respectable profession. Now, you’re working on your biggest piece ever, literally: a mural on a large, gray brick building high enough on the Promenade to bask in the sunlight, but still visible to anyone in the Entresol who could be bothered to look up.

Being outdoors makes for a refreshing change from your usual gigs in stuffy Topside mansions, painting portraits of families who smell too clean and take themselves too seriously. They always insisted on making the most boring small talk, demanding your attention and drawing your focus away from your canvas. All your clients have too much money, but they can never seem to afford the patience to pose in silence.

No, it’s better to be alone when working. All you have for company is your supplies, a small gramophone, your sketchbook, and your satchel. No one could hope to interrupt you on your scissor lift high above the ground.

It surprises you, then, when the sound of running footsteps below pulls you away from the wall. You peek down at a thin, dark-haired man sprinting for his life.

Passers-by aren’t uncommon here, but most prefer to stroll silently as to not draw attention to themselves. So it’s mildly intriguing that this man has chosen speed over stealth.

He disappears into a gap between two buildings and into the shadows.

His pursuers make themselves known: a pair of Piltover Enforcers, navigating the urban landscape with much more clumsiness and caution than their prey.

“He can’t have gone far! Damn gutter rat…”

They crawl over debris and litter, making their way towards you. You hold your breath until they’re directly underneath you, and then—

SPLAT!!

The paint cans you kicked over land a direct hit on both Enforcers, drenching them in white and pink. They curse and whip out their batons.

You press a button to collapse the scissor lift, a melodramatic expression of remorse on your face.

“I’m soooo sorry, officers! It was an accident, I didn’t see you there—”

“Damn, woman! What the hell—”

“I’m sorry, if you want to be reimbursed for your uniforms just let Councilor Salo know and he’ll cover the costs.”

The namedrop makes them pause. You hand over your business card and a golden engraved crest. One Enforcer takes them, examining the crest in particular: it’s a pure gold, extravagantly carved letter “S” set in a delicate filigree of a leafy bush laden with berries. Given only to contractors who report directly to the councilor himself.

“It’s genuine,” he mutters to his partner and hands it back to you. The business card stays in his hand. He clears his throat and addresses you with a calmer, more formal manner. “And it’s not a problem, ma'am. We won’t bother the councilor with something so trivial. Have you seen a—”

You gasp exaggeratedly. “Your uniforms! You need to wash them right away! Or else they’ll stain permanently!”

The Enforcers glance at each other impatiently. “It’s fine. We’re looking for a—”

“And your skin! Did you get any on you?? It’ll stain you too!”

That gets their attention. One of them starts scooting away, eager to leave. You push the other with all your might.

“Scrub your bodies with tomato juice and then soak in onion peels! That’ll get it all out! But hurry!!”

One Enforcer stumbles over himself, and they both finally break out into a run. Out of Zaun and back to where they belong. You snicker to yourself and toss the crest in the air, catching it on the way down.

You catch a glimpse of something twinkling in the shadows. It’s a pair of eyes— are they green? or blue?

They disappear just as quickly as you spotted them.

Well, as interruptions go that was one of the more entertaining ones you’ve experienced lately. You ascend on the scissor lift and get back to painting.

The next day is business as usual, for the most part. Painting the wall is going smoothly. Out of nowhere, you suddenly feel prickly and uncomfortable— it’s an Undercity instinct, a warning that someone you can’t see is watching you.

The discomfort is the worst at the top of your head… so they’re looking down at you, like a bird of prey before it swoops.

You take a deep breath to settle your nerves. Then, you press a button that extends the scissor lift to its fullest height.

It brings you level with a frowning man on the roof, his arms crossed. He’s tall, sharp, and lean, with lanky black hair that drapes over his narrowed eyes. They’re neither green nor blue, but a teal that’s a perfect inbetween.

It’s such a beautiful color… you’re itching to replicate it by blending your paints.

“You know it’s dangerous to get involved with a stranger’s affairs,” he intones. His voice is low and smoky, with a hint of gravel. He scrutinizes you under furrowed brows.

“Just wanted to help a fellow ‘gutter rat’, that’s all,” you reply, shrugging.

His eyes tick open wider in surprise. He scans you up and down.

You hold back a sigh. Early in your career, you mastered the art of code-switching between the two disparate cultures of Topside and the Undercity. It’s a necessity for anyone who lives in Zaun but works in Piltover: if you’re not presentable enough in both manners and wardrobe for your Piltie clients, they’ll dismiss you out of hand; but if you wear your nice Topside garb in the Undercity, you’re practically screaming to cutpurses that you’re a wealthy mark.

While you couldn’t care less what most Topsiders think, it always hurts a little when one of your own doesn't recognize you.

Anyone could see that this man is the archetypal Zaunite: his clothes are thin and well-worn, but the leather straps and shoulder pad are in good condition, and the brass trappings are highly polished. It’s typical Undercity fashion, where cheap clothes have to be preserved as long as possible so as to not waste money on unnecessary replacements.

He’s more handsome than most men you know, though, with high cheekbones and a long shapely nose. His wiry form speaks to a man who prefers speed over brute strength, and—

“Now that’s not an attitude you encounter every day in the Undercity,” he muses, interrupting your thoughts. You must have passed whatever silent inspection he was conducting with his eyes, although he still regards you with wariness.

“What can I say? If I see an Enforcer, I just wanna mess with them, you know?” You grin at him.

“That, I do understand all too well,” the thin line of his lips quirks upward before settling into a straight line of neutrality.

He wields his stony demeanor like armor, but there’s something curious about the fact that he allowed you to approach him at all… it makes you want to get past his defenses, for some reason.

Even if it's only to satisfy the intrigue of getting to know a good-looking stranger.

“You’re welcome for yesterday, by the way,” you joke. “For saving your skin from the Enforcers. It looks like I saved you from a trip to Stillwater.”

His impassive facade cracks. He bares his teeth, bristling. “I did not need your help. I was perfectly capable of—”

“They were pretty close to catching you,” you raise your hands and make a grabbing gesture. “Good thing you’re so skinny. They can’t arrest you if you’re just literally going to slip out of their fingers.”

That gets him to step close to tower over you, glowering. Shit, he’s tall.

“What I lack in musculature, you seem to lack in intelligence. What on earth makes you think it would be a good idea to antagonize someone wanted by Enforcers?”

“Ooooh, the Enforcers want to lock up little ol’ you. You’re such a big baddie,” you tease. “If they had it their way, they’d have every single one of us locked up. You’re not special.”

He leans forward, curling his hands over the ledge of the roof. He lowers himself closer to you and sneers. “Perhaps I’ve done something especially terrible to warrant particular attention from Topside.”

“Let me guess,” you purse your lips as you examine him. “You pickpocketed some Topside nobles?”

He smiles slyly. “Worse than that.”

“Kidnapping a pet Poro?”

“You’re getting closer.”

You shake your head in bemusement. “What was it?”

“Seducing a Piltie noblewoman,” a mischievous glint shines in his eyes. “I all but rescued her from a cold, loveless marriage. Unfortunately, her husband didn't seem to appreciate that.”

“Really?” You laugh again, more out of surprise than humor this time.

“No,” he chuckles. “Just breaking and entering.”

The conversation seems to be going well. You got him to admit something personal about himself, even if it was on accident. Excitement fills you at the thought of getting to know him better.

“You better be careful, mister. Maybe I’ll turn you into the Enforcers now that I got a good look at your pretty face.”

Shit you hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud.

He raises his eyebrows at your slip-up. He steps back and runs a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. “Surely you wouldn’t have this ‘pretty face’ thrown into Stillwater, would you? There’s quite a dearth of us in the Undercity.”

Wow… when you fully see his face, “pretty” is a big understatement.

“Are you kidding? Pretty faces are a dime a dozen,” you smirk. “And I'd probably get a big reward for turning you in to Councilor Salo—”

At the sound of the councilor’s name, his eyes widen in fear. It’s like your words set him on fire with how fast he dashes away from you. The sounds of him running on pipes and rooftops echo in the distance.

You smack your head against the ledge and groan. You pushed him too far and almost got him to break the cardinal rules of living in Zaun: don’t trust strangers, and especially don’t trust strangers who work for the Council.

Damn you and your big mouth…

________________________________________

One reason why your worksite is prime real estate is that despite its proximity to the underground, it’s free from the omnipresent chem-smog. Any smells that don’t belong are carried far and wide in the fresh, untainted air.

When you arrive at the wall, you're greeted by the scent of cheap cigarette smoke. There’s no one on the ground, so you look up to confirm: on the roof is the man from yesterday, smoking. He’s all sharp angles even as he slouches with one arm on the ledge.

A warm feeling of relief blooms in your chest. Thank Janna you didn’t scare him off.

Your unexpected eagerness to talk to him makes you clumsy. All your supplies tumble out of your hands onto the scissor lift. You clamber onto it and trip, almost crashing into the 'ascend' button.

His eyes track your progress upwards, and you’re suddenly struck by the urge to fiddle with your paints.

When you’re finally level with him, you eye him shyly. “You came back.”

He doesn’t respond, looking down his nose at you. Finally, he drops his cigarette and grinds it underneath his boot.

“I seem to owe you my gratitude, again, for not taking the opportunity to send Enforcers to hunt me down,” his smile this time is somewhat guarded. It touches his lips but doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Don’t want to make their jobs easier for them,” you reply with a small grin.

“Why, thank you so much for thinking of me,” he says with a light sarcasm. The ends of his lips twitch upwards. “I would hate to be taken away before having the privilege of knowing your name.”

You give it to him. He extends his hand out for you to shake.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Silco.”

Chapter 2

#Arcane #Arcane fanfic #Silco #Silco x Reader #Arcane Silco #Silco Arcane #my writing #The Art in the Heart #TAITH

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

Text

I’m Not Half as Bad as You’ve Been Told

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Synopsis: Loki is arrested by the TVA for what he did to you

This can be read on it’s own or as a spin off of in case you don’t live forever

Masterlist

Loki woke up in the Gobi Dessert in Mongolia after being ejected from the sky. The last thing he remembered was taking the tesseract after getting caught by the Avengers in New York. When he opened his eyes, he was met with four armed guards with their weapons pointed at them.

“Hunter B-15 with the Time Variance Authority here. Appears to be a standard sequence violation.” Hunter B-15 read off a small monitor. “Oh and look at that, you’re one of the TVA’s most wanted.”

“I beg your pardon?” Loki asked as he got off the ground.

“Hands up.” Hunter B-15 raised her weapon. “You’re coming with us.”

Before Loki could protest, he was knocked out and had a collar placed around his neck. He was brought to the TVA headquarters and handed off to Agent Mobius after being screened.

“Loki Laufeyson. I’m agent Mobius.” Mobius introduced himself as Loki tugged at his collar. “I hear the Time Keepers find you guilty of tampering with the sacred timeline.”

“The what?” Loki huffed.

“The sacred timeline. Looks like you stole the tesseract and committed crimes against the midgardian Y/n L/n.” The Mobius read off Loki’s file.

“Y/n?” Loki stumbled back at the unexpected mention of your name. “This is about her?”

“That’s part of your charges, yes. You’ll be given more details at your trial. But I’d ike to have a talk with you first. Come this way.” Mobius nodded towards the side and lead Loki to a room with a projector on a long conference table.

“What does this have to do with Y/n? Where is she? Is she all right?” Loki asked as he took a seat behind the projector. He had worried about you since the day you left him, even after you told him you never wanted to see him again.

“She’s fine.” Mobius assured him. “Even after you got a hold of her.”

“Is she here?” Loki hoped. “Could I see her?”

“No.” Mobius answered, making Loki’s face crumple. “She’s on Earth. You know, her home.”

“I know Midgard is her home.” Loki narrowed his eyes. “I also know how much she hated it there. But this all happened ages ago. Why am I being arrested for it now?”

“Well when you took the tesseract from its set path, the TVA was alerted and noticed that this wasn’t your first offense of tampering with the sacred time line. They saw that Y/n L/n never made it back to earth in 2019 after going to Asgard to retrieve the Aether. It went undetected at the time since the Aether made it back to earth like it was supposed to. She was supposed to go back as well, but she never made it. You were the one that kept her there.”

“How is that a crime?” Loki asked. “She wanted to stay with me. She was happy! She was happy on Asgard.”

“Was she?” Mobius raised his eyebrows and turned on the screen. “Because I think she was taken from her family, friends and home. Maybe I’m mistaken, though. Let’s take a look.”

Mobius pressed a button on a remote, and a projection appeared in front of them. Mobius began to fast forward through the foundational moments in Loki’s life until he got to what he was looking for. Loki watched in shock as an image of you, Thor, and Rocket creeping around a pillar in his home appeared on the screen. He wanted to shut his eyes and look away, but it had been so long since he’d seen you. He didn’t have the strength to look away from you now.

“I’m sure you remember why she was there.” Mobius said as he watched the scene unfold. “All she wanted was the infinity stone. She was trying to save the world. She missed her boyfriend and wanted to undo all the damage that Thanos had done. You couldn’t let her do that, could you?”

“The stone still made it back to earth.” Loki protested. “She said herself that she wasn’t an important part of the plan. And her “boyfriend” was nothing but dust particles. She-“

“Shh.” Mobius waved his hand. “The shows about to begin.”

Loki painfully returned his attention to the screen right as your first introduction played out. It was your job to distract Loki while Thor and Rocket collected the Aether.

Asgard 2013

“Who goes there?” Loki cringed at the sound of his own voice. He watched Rocket and Thor hide behind a pillar while you went out into the open. You walked into a room and found Loki lying on a couch, tossing something in the air and catching it. Loki sat up when he saw you, immediately on high alert.

“Who are you?” He demanded. “How did you get in here?”

“I’m so sorry, but my friends and I are here for the festival and I just had to sneak away to find you.” You gushed, trying to it best to look innocent. Loki took long strides towards you as he took in your appearance, highly skeptical of your story.

“My brother isn’t here.” Loki informed you, his voice thick with annoyance. “So you should best be on your way.”

“I’m not here for your brother.” You said coyly. You held his gaze as you signaled for Thor and Rocket to move to the next room.

“You’re here for me?” He cleared his throat to mask the disbelief in his voice. You nodded sweetly as Thor and Rocket snuck past you.

“Of course. My friends are obsessed with your brother, but I’ve always loved you. Won’t you show me a magic trick?” You batted your eyes flirtatiously, making a slight smirk appear on Loki’s face. Meanwhile, the present day Loki was watching the interaction with a pained expression. He remembered how it felt that first time you said you loved him. That was all he needed to hear before falling in love with you just the same.

“A magic trick?” The Loki on screen asked, mischief swirling behind his eyes.

“Well you are the God of Mischief, aren’t you?” You tilted your head to the side and looked at him through your eyelashes. A full, open mouthed smirk dressed his face now. His hand went to yours and it held it up, keeping your wrist tightly between his fingers. Loki brushed the fingers on his other hand over your palm and a diamond appeared. You looked at the beautiful diamond, weightless in your hand, and let out an unexpected gasp.

“Oh, Loki. That’s amazing.” You gave him an over dramatic sigh, but he completely fell for it. “But I don’t care much for diamonds. I haven’t any use for them.”

Loki felt a twinge of competition brewing in his chest, like he had to win your approval. You faked a yawn and his eyes gleamed with determination.

“You don’t like that? Well how about this?” Loki challenged and waved his fingers over your palm again. This time, a flower appeared. It didn’t look like any earthly flower. It was ten times more beautiful and smelled better than anything you had ever smelled before. The flowers colors were green and black with accents of gold, just like Loki’s outfit. You stared at the flower in amazement before looking up shyly at him. If you weren’t mistaken, the God of Mischief had a blush on his cheeks as he watched your face carefully for approval. Loki then picked up the flower and tucked it behind your ear. He began to lean in slightly, but you were interrupted by Thor and Rocket knocking over a vase. You noticed they had the stone and were ready to go. Luckily, you saw them before Loki did.

“What was-“ Loki began to turn his head towards the sound but you quickly put a hand behind his head and pulled him into a kiss. You felt his eyes flutter shut as you opened yours, catching sight of Rocket and Thor pretending to gag out of the corner of your eye. With one hand, you motioned for them to move. They quickly scattered and you pulled away from the kiss. Loki was fully blushing now but doing his best to conceal it, though his best wasn’t good enough. He seemed completely bewildered, making you wonder if he’d ever kissed anyone before. You touched your fingertips to your lips and felt a pang of guilt. This was your first time kissing someone other than Peter Parker in 5 years, and it made you feel guilty with how much you enjoyed it. Loki appeared to be just as lost in his thoughts as you were as he struggled to catch his breath. He ran a hand over the long black hair that you had slightly messed up in the back.

“Thanks for the flower. And for everything else. Bye!” You tried to make a quick escape, but Loki caught your arm.

“Wait!” He pulled you back towards him and looked at you with wide eyes. “Will I see you again?”

“No.” You smiled sadly. “I don’t think you will.”

“You’re not from here, are you?” He asked. “I know a Midgardian when I see one.”

“Good catch.” You let out a short laugh. “No, I’m not from here. I’m not even from this reality. I just needed to borrow something from your present. I’m from Earth, and I really have to get back.”

You tried to leave again, but Loki followed after to you and caught you by the waist. You stumbled back into his arms and blinked in surprise.

“Won’t you stay?” He asked hopefully. “We only just met. Do you have to leave so soon?”

“I do.” You frowned. “I’m sorry. I really need to go home.”

“All right.” Loki reluctantly let go of you. “If you must.”

You looked at him for a moment and chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating what to do. You looked behind you and saw Thor and Rocket preparing to leave. You motioned for them to leave without you before looking back at Loki.

“Do you have a pen?” You asked him.

“A what?”

“To write with.” You chuckled and motioned as of you were writing something down. Loki waved his hand and made a quill appear out of thin air, along with a piece of paper.

“That’ll work.” You shrugged and took the quill. You wrote your name and address down on the paper and handed it to him.

“If you’re ever on earth.” You smiled shyly. “Come find me.”

“I will.” He nodded eagerly.

“I really have to go now.” You said as you looked over your shoulder to where Thor was hiding. You turned back to Loki and gave him one last kiss, surprising the both of you.

“You’ll see me again.” You said softly. “Maybe not in this timeline, but the next.”

“That’s enough.” Loki interrupted, making the screen pause. “I know what happens. And since you’ve been studying me all my life as you claim, so do you. We don’t need to watch anymore.”

“I get it, you’re impatient.” Mobius held up his hands. “We can fast forward. How about we go to the part where you used magic to break her suit? Your brother was able to get back to Earth just fine, but she was stuck on Asgard. All because of you.”

Mobius pointed a remote at the screen and fast forwarding through Loki sneaking you to his bed chambers. He stopped when he got to you and Loki sitting on his silk sheeted bed.

“I don’t know why it won’t work.” You sighed as you touched all the buttons on your suit. “I must’ve run out of Pym Particles or something. I need to fix it so I can get back to Earth.”

“Right, right. Earth.” Loki said with disinterest. “What did you need to borrow anyway?”

“The aether.” You told him as the decor in his room caught your attention. You began to look at all his golden trinkets and stolen objects with awe.

“An infinity stone?” He was taken aback. “But why?”

“In the future, Thanos wipes out half the universe.” You began. “I’m on a recovery mission with the rest of the Avengers to collect the Infinity Stones to undo what he did. We’re trying to bring all the people back.”

“Half the people in the universe gone?” He gasped. “That sounds awful.”

“It is.” You stilled for a moment. “Honestly, I’m miserable. Absolutely miserable. All my family vanished. My boyfriend is gone. Half the Avengers are gone. The sky isn’t even blue anymore. It’s horrible.”

“So you aren’t happy there?” Loki asked as he walked over to you, a little jealousy bubbling when you mentioned a boyfriend.

“I hate it.” You admitted. “Everywhere I turn, I’m reminded of what I lost. That’s why it’s so important that we bring everyone back.”

“But what if your plan fails?” Loki wondered. “What if you don’t bring back all the stones? Or what if you do, but it doesn’t bring anyway back?”

“Then I don’t know what I’d do.” You shrugged sadly. “This plan is all I have. If it fails…”

“You don’t even want to think about that, do you?” He finished your sentence when you trailed off. You looked at him and nodded softly, grateful that he understood.

“Yeah.” You said quietly. “It’s too hard to imagine.”

“See?” Loki interrupted again. “She was miserable on Earth. She said it herself. I was trying to save her from a lifetime of misery.”

“I think you’re forgetting something.” Mobius reminded him.

“Forgetting what?” Loki scoffed.

“The plan worked.” Mobius said. “Thor brought the Aether back to her original timeline, and the Avengers were able to bring everyone back. She was supposed to go too, but she was left on Asgard. That was your first offense with the TVA.”

“Oh, screw the TVA.” Loki slammed his hand on the table. “She didn’t want to go back to Earth. She was unhappy there.”

“Is that why you told her Earth was destroyed?” Mobius asked. Loki stilled and sank in his seat as he was reminded of his lies. Mobius fast forwarded again, but didn’t play another scene. Instead, he paused on a clip of you looked utterly devestated. Loki had to look away, not wanting to see you in that much pain.

“Now, I’m not gonna play this part.” Mobius shook his head. “Because even I find it hard to watch. But you need to know what you did, so I’ll remind you.”

“You don’t need to do this.” Loki seethed. “I know what I did. I know what I told her.”

“Fine, then.” Mobius shrugged. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Loki sucked in a sharp breath before looking back at the screen. The image of your desolate expression had never left his memory, so he really didn’t need to see it again to be reminded of what he had done.

“She tried to leave again.” Loki began as he stared at the screen. “I knocked her out with my magic. When she woke up, I told her Thanos had destroyed Earth and everyone on it. I said there was nothing left for her to return to.”

“She was devestated.” Mobius said quietly.

“I know she was.” Loki snapped. “She cried for a month straight.”

“So why’d you do it?” Mobius put his hands on his hips. “Why did you lie to her?”

“I didn’t want her to go.” Loki admitted, growing disgusted with himself. “I wanted her to stay with me on Asgard. She wouldn’t want to go back to Earth if she thought there was no Earth to go back to.”

“Why keep her?” Mobius wondered. “You barely knew her. Why hold her hostage like that?”

“She wasn’t held hostage.” Loki growled. “She was safe and loved and happy. No one on Asgard was taken better care of than she was. And I may not have known here when she first arrived, but we became inseparable after a while. We were almost married, for Odin’s sake. I’ll show you.”

Loki grabbed the remote from Mobius and pressed a button, fast forwarding until he found what he was looking for.

“Look.” Loki proudly pointed to the screen. “Watch this.”

He pressed play and watched as a memory of you and him played out on the screen.

“Where are we going?” You asked as Loki lead you somewhere with his hands over your eyes.

“Almost there. So impatient.” He clicked his tongue.

“You’ve taken me around the whole palace.” You chuckled. “I have a right to be impatient.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Loki stopped walking but didn’t remove his hands. “All right. We’re here.”

You pulled his hands off of your face and found yourself in front of two large green doors.

“Wow.” You said sarcastically. “Doors.

“Open the doors.” He rolled his eyes. You gave him a playful look over your shoulder before pushing the doors open.

“Oh my God.” You gasped when the doors opened. The room was decorated from ceiling to floor with all kinds of Asgardian wildlife. I’m the center of the room, your name was spelled out in the flower Loki had presented you with on the day you met. There was a running waterfall that cascading from the ceiling to the ground, leaving a soothing babbling sound throughout the room.

“It’s yours.” Loki said as he watched your reaction. “You mentioned once that you always wanted a garden. Now you do.”

“Oh, Loki.” You turned around and rushed into his arms. He stumbled back in surprise before hugging you back tightly.

“This is the nicest thing anyones ever done for me.” You mumbled against his chest.

“Well, you’ve been so upset lately. I wanted to cheer you up.” He said as he stroked your hair. It had been a month since he lied to you and told you that Earth was destroyed, and you were finally starting to act like yourself again.

“Thank you.” You pulled away to look at him. “I love it. It’s beautiful.”

“I truly hope you like it, darling.” He said softly as he brushed your cheek with his thumb. “It’s all yours.”

You looked into his eyes for a moment before your gaze fell to his lips. Since your last kiss, Loki had brought you food and kept you company every day. You had a built up a friendship with him since arriving to Asgard, but now you felt differently. There was a connection from the very first day, but it had gotten lost in your lament over your planets alleged destruction. Now, there was nothing stopping you from feeling that connection again. You hesitated before leaning it to kiss him. Just like last time, you felt his eyes flutter shut before he kissed you back. His hands cupped your face as you reached your arms around his neck. Loki watched your first kiss on the screen with a proud but mournful smile.

“Isn’t that something?” Mobius said as he paused the screen. Loki blinked back to reality and wiped his face, not realizing until that moment he had been crying.

“That scene speaks for itself.” Loki cleared his throat and tried to act like he hadn’t been crying. “You can see how happy she was. She loved that garden. And she loved me.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Mobius nodded. “But it’s hard to see past the fact that your entire relationship was built on a lie. She was only with you because she thought her home was destroyed.”

“She was with me for three years.” Loki said sharply. “The lie may have kept her there in the beginning, but she stayed willingly after that. She wanted to be on Asgard. She wanted to be with me.”

“Maybe. But she wasn’t supposed to be.” Mobius reminded him. “That wasn’t her timeline. She was supposed to be on Earth. She was supposed to be with Peter.”

“Peter?” Loki sputtered in disdain. “Peter Parker? Her little boyfriend from when she was a teenager?”

“In most time lines, they end up together.” Mobius said, knocking the wind out of Loki’s chest. “She went on that mission because she wanted to bring him back. Do you think she would have stayed, even for a second, if she knew her boyfriend Peter was alive back on Earth?”

“She told me they were 17 when the Thanos wiped out half the universe. That means Peter would’ve been 17 when he returned. She was 22 when she came to Asgard. She hadn’t been his girlfriend for 5 years. She had grown up. Her life went on. They would’ve had nothing in common anymore.”

“But she was supposed-“

“Who cares what she was supposed to do?” Loki snapped. “Why does the TVA get to decided what she was supposed to do or where she was supposed to be?”

“They’re the Time Keepers. They make the rules. And the rules say you can’t take someone from a different timeline and marry them. Oh, that reminds me.”

“Reminds you of what?”

“Your punishment. Mobius pressed a different button and a cloudy box appeared. “Go in there while I get the rest of your files.”

“What? I’m not going in there.” Loki scoffed.

“Don’t make me get the guards.” Mobius sighed. Loki clenched his jaw and looked at the ceiling, not wanting to be overpowered by the guards again. He reluctantly stood up, gave Mobius a sarcastic smile, and went through the cloudy portal.

As soon as Loki stepped through the portal, he stepped into his bedroom back on Asgard. He took another step forward, just as something stirred in his sheets. You sat up all the sudden, hair messy and wearing Loki’s horned crown. It was too big for your head and hung in your eyes, but the sight still took Loki’s breath away.

“Y/n?” Loki gasped and stepped forward.

“Hi.” You said before yawning. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Go ahead.” Loki nodded eagerly. He failed to see how this was a punishment. It had been so long since he last saw you that this felt more like a reward.

“I want our wedding to be earth themed.” You told him as you took his hands in yours.

“Our…our wedding?” Loki asked. He looked around the room and realized that he was not actually with you, but reliving a memory from years ago.

“Yeah.” You smiled shyly. “I just miss it so much. I want it to be a part of our special day.”

Loki found himself at a loss for words. He knew that when this memory originally happened, he had continued to lie to you and lead you to believe Earth had been destroyed. This time, he knew better and kept his mouth shut.

“We could have sunflowers.” You continued. “That was my favorite flower back on earth. And we could serve earth food and play earth music and-“

“Of course darling.” He cut you off and squeezed your hand. “Whatever you want. We will have it all.”

“Thank you. And if it’s not too much to ask, I want a minute of silence where everyone lights a candle.” You said quietly. “For Peter.”

Loki gulped and forced a smile, that line causing him just as much pain now as it did then.

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” You stood up from the bed and hugged him tightly. Loki hugged you back with a troubling frown on his face. He had forgotten how guilty he felt every time he had to lie to you. He pulled away and brought you into a long kiss, wordlessly trying to convey that he loved you and was sorry.

“I can’t wait. I can’t tell you how much I miss earth.” You sighed against his lips.

“Mm hm.” He gulped.

“I just wish I could’ve seen it one last time.” You frowned, eyes growing tearful. “I feel so guilty all the time. I would’ve died too if I had gone back with Thor when I was supposed to.”

“Then it’s a good thing you didn’t go.” Loki said weakly, knowing Thor was very much alive in your timeline back on Earth.

“I know.” You sighed. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to shake the survivors guilt. It makes me sick sometimes.”

Loki stayed silent as he fingers drummed against your waist. Before he could respond, his body jerked back and he suddenly reentered the room.

“Hi.” You said before yawning. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Loki looked behind him before looking back at you. The memory played all over again, forcing him to lie to you once again. When you told him how guilty you felt, he was sent back and had to relive the moment over again. Each time he had to lie to you, he felt more disgusted with himself. After the thirteenth time, he had enough.

“I lied to you.” He admitted. “Earth was never destroyed. Thor and all the Avengers and your family, they’re all fine.”

“What?” You blinked in confusion.

“I’m not your savior. I didn’t save you from anything. I stole you from your time line because I fell in love with you the moment we met. You were the first person to show a a genuine interest in me, and I took advantage of that. And for that, I am deeply, deeply sorry.”

“Oh, Loki.” You sighed and stroked his face. “It’s too late for that.”

“What?” He frowned as he wrapped his hand around your wrist to keep your palm against his face.

“I’m not even here.” You whispered.

“All right Loki.” Mobius walked through the portal before Loki could answer you. “I got the rest of your files. Let’s go.”

“But…I can’t just leave her.” Loki held on to you tightly.

“She’s not even real.” Mobius shrugged as he held up his remote. It pulled Loki back through the portal and he stumbled back into his seat.

“Here’s the last one.” Mobius said, but Loki wasn’t listening. He was still thinking about how it felt to touch you one last time. He blinked back a tear before looking up at the screen. You were there once again, talking to one of the new maids.

“Oh, I wasn’t born here.” He heard you telling the maid. “I’m from Earth.”

“A midgardian?” The maid smiled. “Wow. You’re quite far from home.”

“I know.” You smiled sadly. “I miss it every day. But I’m happy here. I’m really happy with Loki.”

“If you miss it, why don’t you go back?” The maid asked, making Loki suck in a breath. He knew exactly what was coming.

“Go back?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “What do you mean? Earth was destroyed three years ago.”

“No it wasn’t.” The nurse laughed. “Earth is fine.”

The audio faded out as you turned to look at Loki. He felt like you were looking right through him, down to his rotten soul. Your face was frozen in horror and betrayal as you finally learned the truth. Three years after arriving on Asgard, you found out your home hadn’t been destroyed after all. It was all a lie. A lie told to you by the man you thought you loved.

“Stop.” Loki choked out. “Stop it. Turn it off.”

Mobius paused the screen and looked at Loki in silence. To his surprise, Loki was wiping his tears off on the sleeves of his jumpsuit. His eyes were red and full of remorse as he looked up at the screen.

“I don’t need it see it again.” He whispered. “I know she trusted me. I know I betrayed her. I did that.”

“So you understand why the TVA is arresting you?” Mobius asked softly. “You didn’t just steal the tesseract. You stole that girl from her reality. Even if she loved you, she was never supposed to be with you.”

Loki nodded before hanging his head in shame. He knew what he had done was wrong. He knew it the entire time he was doing it. Even though he betrayed you out of his love for you, he still betrayed you.

“You’re right.” Loki said sincerely. “She was never mine to keep. Never mine to lose either.”

“No, she wasn’t.” Mobius agreed as he watched Loki curiously. The look of utter remorse on Loki’s face was out of character after everything Mobius had studied about him.

“Could you just tell me if she’s all right?” Loki sniffled. “That’s all I ask. Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” Mobius answered. “She’s fighting for the Avengers again and reunited with her family.”

“Is she still miserable?”

“No.” Mobius smiled a little. “Not anymore.”

“And…and Peter?” His voice was barely audible now.

“Don’t worry about that.” Mobius told him. “It won’t do you any good. And for what it’s worth, there are timelines that exists where she stays. There’s even a timeline where you two are alligators and rule a kingdom in a lake.”

Loki smiled too, grateful that you were able to move on after his betrayal. Mobius furrowed his eyebrows at the sight of Loki genuinely caring about another human being, something he was not used to seeing.

“I could show you one more thing.” Mobius offered sympathetically. Loki reluctantly looked back at the screen as the man his play. To his surprise, all the good moments of his relationship with you flashed before him. All the kisses and laughter, fond smiles and endearing moments played on the screen, bringing tears to his eyes. He leaned toward on the table to get as close to you as possible, reaching out towards you with his shackled hands. The screen went blank suddenly, and his smile fell.

“They’re ready for you.” Mobius said as he checked his phone. “I can take you to the court now.”

Loki stayed silent as he was lead to the courtroom and sat in front of the judge. All he could think about was the moments of happiness he had been able to relive.

“Loki Laufeyson.” The judge brought his attention back. “How do you plead?

Loki blinked a few times, your smile flashing before him each time he closed his eyes. He thought about he had caused that smile to fade with every lie he told, and that’s when he knew he had his answer. He looked the judge right in the eye and entered his plea.

“Guilty.”

#loki x reader #loki imagine #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #loki angst #loki series #loki spoilers #peter parker x reader

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powpowpunchout · 3 years ago

Text

You’ll Know Eventually

Tiger rested against the ledge of the balcony of Bald Bull’s home. The dull, beige stone railings were freezing to the touch, but it felt nice after such a long day. He slowly closed his eyes as a gentle, evening breeze touched his face.

He still hasn’t changed out of his boxing attire. His body felt so sticky, his limbs ached, but he’ll be okay. He can teleport home whenever he wants and shower then, so there was no need to rush. Bull wanted to have him over for a small celebration, something Tiger could never refuse, and he’d hate to leave so early in the night.

Water from the pool in Bull’s garden was hitting the edges, and the sound of running water from the small fountains underneath the balcony filled the silence of the night. It was rather loud, all that splashing and splattering, yet there was something soothing about it.

Tiger opened his eyes again, they lingered in Bull’s backyard, which was surrounded by so many plants that Bull had no need for fences. Thick bushes with all sorts of flowers sprouting from them, low, crooked trees with branches that twisted and curved in such peculiar ways it made them look fluid, vines wrapping themselves around anything and everything, and flowers. Hundreds upon hundreds of flowers. At least, that’s what it looked like to Tiger.

Portions of the garden were lit up by lanterns hung on nearby trees. The lights would shine through colored glass and tint bits of the garden with hues of purples and blues. There were several more lanterns under the balcony, Tiger recalled. And whatever those lanterns couldn’t reach? The plants that were just out of their grasps? The soft, teal light of the pool made sure to illuminate them.

It all made for a wonderful scenery, and a wonderful way to keep the paparazzi out.

Tiger glanced to the side. A long, winding vine that had wrapped themselves around the pickets of the rails had caught his attention. The last time Tiger was here, the vines were still crawling around underneath the balcony. They had covered nearly every inch of the ceiling and had fresh grapes dangling from them. It seems they’re now working their way up here.

Tiger stared at the tip of the vine, noticing something small poking out from under the leaves. Grapes. Tiny, unripe grapes.

Tiger raised his hand. The vine raised with it.

With two fingers, he beckoned a berry to come forward. One plucked itself and flew to him.

He let it hover in front of his face. As it slowly rotated, Tiger peered through its thin, purple skin. He could vaguely make out the lights of the distant city.

“You’re rather quiet for a winning man.” Tiger heard Bull say from behind, “Did the paparazzi tire you out that much?”

Tiger flicked the berry away. He watched it fly past the plants and disappear into the darkness, “It’s late.”

“If you need to return home, I do not mind.”

“Not that late.”

Bull chuckled and joined Tiger’s side. He set his small plate of sweet pastries on the railing before resting against it. They stared out into the night, the warm, orange light coming through the door basked their backs.

“Would you like me to get you something to eat?” Bull offered.

“No, no. I’m fine.”

Tiger pressed his lips together, thinking for a moment.

“I had a rather… Strange conversation before my fight today.” Tiger finally said, “Well, the conversation was normal, but everything else felt off.”

“Who were you talking to?”

“Octave.”

“Really now?” Bull’s brows went up, “I have heard he has quite the personality.”

“Yes, that’s just it. Hondo’s told me before of his behavior and–oh, I’m sure everyone’s heard of his attitude, I’ve even witnessed a couple of arguments he’s had in the past, so it’s just…” Tiger twisted the end of his mustache, “...Peculiar.”

Bull was quiet for a second more.

“Why don’t you talk to him?”

Tiger whipped his head around, “Pardon?”

“You’re going back to the stadium tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“Yes, a couple of photoshoots, an interview, the usual.”

“So if Overload is there tomorrow, talk to him. Perhaps he is in a rough spot, perhaps no one has given him the chance.” Bull grabbed a baklava from his plate, bits of the top layer flaking off, “You never know what could happen if you take the time to know him. Even just a little bit. That’s how we became friends, afterall.”

As Bull bit into the pastry, Tiger faced the distant city again.

Maybe Bull’s right.

Maybe he should talk to him.

It never hurts to try.

~ ~ ~

Tiger rubbed his eyes as he drifted through the halls.

It was early.

Far too early.

Yet here he was.

In the stadium.

At 7 in the morning.

Perhaps he was being a bit dramatic. That wasn’t too early of a time, especially compared to when others arrived, but he still had to wake up at five in the morning. The fact anyone is expected to wake up so soon should be considered a crime. It certainly didn’t help that he had to get ready for the day ‘manually’ because his magic was of no use so early.

Oh, sure, his magic still worked, but it didn’t work well. It still had to ‘wake up’ with him, which always took an hour or so. A long. Painful. Hour.

It was one of the main reasons mornings were so dreadful, right on top of having to drag himself out of his warm, comfortable bed.

Tiger could go on and on about how pesky his magic was at the crack of dawn. If he wanted something summoned to him? His gym bag, his boxing attire, his breakfast? There’d always be ‘hiccups’. They’d rather appear twenty feet away, appear inside out or upside down–he’s lost count of the times his food had fallen to the floor–and sometimes he’d be given the wrong thing entirely!

If he wanted to levitate an item? His magic would just decide to stop doing that, letting even more things fall to the ground.

And if he wanted to teleport? Forget it.

There’d be mornings he’d want to teleport into the bathroom, only to end up on his roof. Sometimes he’d want to teleport to his microwave to turn the accursed timer off, only for his magic to whisk him away into Bald Bull’s kitchen of all places.

The number of times he’s randomly appeared in Bull’s home is embarrassing.

And don’t get him started on his clones. The only reason he’d ever want to summon a clone as soon as he gets out of bed is if he wanted to scare himself awake.

Yet despite all those troubles, he still loves his magic. He can’t imagine a day without it.

Tiger heard chatter up ahead. His eyes flickered up. Two staff members were making their way down the green hall. Tiger raised himself into the air a bit more and flew over them.

The smell of coffee hit his face. His eyes widened. He looked back down to see the cups the members were holding.

Oh, coffee. That sounds wonderful right now. Does he have time to get a cup? Two cups? Bull’s going to be training this morning, he could definitely get him tea. What time was that interview again?

“At 1.” A clone of Tiger suddenly appeared below him, swimming on their back.

Perfect! He could teleport to the second floor, have a clone wait in line for him, then–

Wait a moment.

Why in blazes was he here so early if he didn’t have to arrive until 1?!

Another clone popped up beside him, “You wanted to see Overload.”

Please, Octave was always going to be here, it wasn't like he was going off to another stadium any time soon. If he couldn’t find Octave today–or simply didn’t have the time to–he can wait another day.

Tiger cursed to himself. He could’ve slept in. He could’ve taken his time getting up. He could’ve waited for his magic to adjust. But no. Here he is. Six hours earlier than he needs to be. He can’t believe Bull convinced him to do this.

“You were the one who agreed to the idea.” A third clone said from behind.

A fourth appeared in front of him, “And you were the one who woke yourself up at 5AM.”

He’s had enough of his clones’ nonsense. He shooed them away and continued flying onwards.

If Octave wasn’t here, he’ll teleport to Bull and watch him train, or see who else was roaming around at this hour.

Tiger turned the corner. Then he stopped.

There he was.

In the middle of the hall, leaning against the wall in his boxing outfit was Octave.

Tiger made his way over. He cleared his throat.

“Good morning.”

Octave lifted his head up and brushed the hair out of his face, “Hey.”

Tiger couldn’t help but notice Octave looked a tad bit… Messier than usual. Was he in a rush this morning? Did he not have the time to brush his hair and part it the way he tends to? Or to properly tie his laces? His black pants weren’t properly tucked into his gray boots either.

Was it rude of him to make these observations? Who was he to judge anyhow? He completely understood the pain of getting ready before the sun was up.

“I didn’t expect to see you here so early.” Tiger said.

“Yeah. Promised t’help Aran with some stuff.” Octave faced the dark gray door that stood across from them.

Tiger nodded.

Then he just…

Hovered there.

Like a child’s forgotten balloon.

Did he… Seriously not think of a conversation for the two of them to have? No ideas for small talk? Nothing? He can’t just leave the interaction at that. There’s got to be something they could talk about. Something they have in common…

Boxing!

‘Not everyone’s life revolves around boxing!’

They’re both boxers! What else could they talk about? The weather?

‘The sun is certainly in the sky today, isn’t it?’

Tiger could feel his magic trying to summon clones to argue with him, but he contained himself.

Maybe he could ask Octave about what he and Aran were going to do? What plans he has for the day? If he liked coffee? Tea? Something–anything–was better than this painful silence!

“Your uh, ya gem is doin’ a thing.” Octave motioned at his forehead. Tiger jolted and quickly slapped his hand over his gem.

Cursed thing must’ve been flashing madly.

“Apologies. It happens when I’m tired.” Tiger partially lied.

“Right.” Octave scratched at his stubble, “Saw ya fight yesterday, some good stuff. Told ya you had it.”

“Ah, thank you.” Tiger put his hand down, “That man did manage to get a few good hits on me at the start. I was quite worried he’d put up a challenge, but I figured him out fairly quickly.”

“Almost thought the guy was runnin’ into ya fists on purpose. Kept chargin’ at ya like some sorta spazz.”

Tiger chuckled and twirled the tip of his mustache, “Well, at least he was a fair fighter.”

“C’mon, that shouldn’t even be–”

The door swung open.

It hit the wall. The stench of old garbage and pipe water filled the hall as Aran walked in, his face covered by a beaten up box he was carrying.

Now Tiger wasn’t sure if he was that exhausted, but didn’t Aran wear that same purple tank top and green shorts yesterday? And the day before that? And the day before–actually. Never mind. Tiger really didn’t want to think about this anymore.

“I thought y’were gonna hold th’door open.” Aran grumbled as he slammed the door shut with his foot.

“Ya said to wait by th’door.” Octave said without a hint of care.

“Common sense, y’idiot!” Aran shoved his face into Octave’s, “Do I gotta tell ye how t’walk as well? How t’breathe outta that big nose?”

Aran stopped. He whipped his head over to Tiger, showing off a disgusting bruise on his cheek, “Why’s kitty ‘ere?”

Tiger threw his brows up. That was certainly a nickname.

“I was only saying ‘hi’ to Overload.” He huffed.

“Whatev’r.” Aran stormed down the hall and let out a sharp whistle, “C’mon.”

Octave grit his teeth. He grumbled to himself before following Aran, thumbs wrapped around his belt.

Tiger tagged along as well. He knew Aran wasn’t talking to him, but he was curious about whatever was in the box. Maybe if he flew at juuuust the right angle, he could catch a glimpse inside.

“Heard ye got a mouthful from Macho Man.” Aran flashed a smirk at Octave.

“Heard ya ate dirt at’cha fight yesterday.” Octave shot back.

Aran scowled. He stayed quiet for just a second more before he started dragging his feet across the floors, creating an awful, piercing squeaking sound. Tiger cringed with each squeak that violated his ears. He looked down and watched Octave’s hands curl to fists.

Tiger considered teleporting away before things got uglier. He got his small talk. It went well. He can talk to Octave another time. But before he could do anything, Octave turned to him.

“Ya been to the trainin’ room?”

“No, not yet. Why?”

“Wanted t’know if anyone was in there. Be great t’work out without a bunch’a other guys hoggin’ it up.”

“I know Bald Bull will be there eventually. What time were you thinking of going?”

“As soon as Aran’s finished with his junk.” Octave glanced back at the Irish man, who was finally walking like a normal person again.

“Yes, and what’s…” Tiger hovered just a bit closer to Aran, “What exactly is in the box?”

Aran hunched over the box and snarled–snarled?!--at Tiger. Tiger backed away.

“It’s stuff for Macho Man.” Octave said, which earned him a hard shove from Aran.

“Go announce it t’da world, why don’t ye?”

Octave shoved him back harder. Whatever was in that box hit the side and made a loud THUD. That only made Tiger’s curiosity worse.

Octave turned back to Tiger, “But yeah, after I help Aran with whatev’ah, I’m gonna be spendin’ the whole day trainin’.” He flexed his arms, “Got that fight comin’ up with Don, ‘n I’m feelin’ a lucky streak comin’ on.”

Aran scoffed and muttered something. Octave glared.

“Got somethin’ ya wanna say, schmuck?”

“C’mon, ye been stuck behind Rosey forev’r. When ye gon’ stop kiddin’ yerself?” Aran said through chuckles.

“Ay, I beat that last guy–”

“Cause he was an idiot.”

Octave rolled his eyes, “Anyways, would be great to get a couple’a swings at that stupid face.” He threw a few punches into the air.

Their walking slowed as they approached the locker room’s door. Aran stood beside it and shifted the box around, making sure it wouldn’t slip out of his arms, “A’right, let’s hurry it up before Macho gets ‘ere. Y’could make yerself useful ‘n actually hold th’door open this time.”

Aran then shot a dirty look at Tiger, “And I don’t wanna kitty ov’r ‘ere rattin’ us out. Git outta ‘ere. Shoo!” He swatted away at Tiger as if he were a pesky fly.

Tiger stuck his nose up, offended by such a gesture, “I was going to head off anyways, I have no interest in whatever childish activities you have planned, Ryan.”

Tiger’s gem flashed, but before he teleported away, he faced Octave one last time, “It was nice talking with you, I hope you have a good day.”

Octave blinked, “Yeah. See ya around.”

And with that, Tiger vanished. Off to finally get coffee for himself and Bull.

~ ~ ~

“And a cup of joe for Joe!” The barista said as she handed the coffee to Glass joe. She looked a little too proud of that joke.

Glass Joe flashed her a smile and gave a quick ‘Thank you’ before leaving the coffee stand. He swears, everytime he hears that ‘cup of joe’ line, he wants to throw himself off the stadium. Oh, what a wonderful life anyone who isn’t named ‘Joe’ must have. Blissfully unaware of the suffering he goes through.

Joe threw one end of his red scarf around his neck as he walked through the backyard of the stadium, or the ‘Garden’, which Joe loved the sound of more. Despite how deceptively wonderful it seemed today, the bright blue sky, the colorful flowers, the dew-covered grass, it was actually rather nippy out, but Joe didn’t mind. It’ll make the hot coffee all the more enjoyable.

Of course, he had to let it cool. He hasn’t even taken a sip yet, but the burning pain his poor hands were going through was more than enough to tell him not to drink it.

He used one hand to push his round sunglasses up then took a deep breath. The garden was at its best in the early morning, that was something Joe firmly stood by. There weren’t any crowds rushing around and shouting over each other, instead, it was quiet. The few people who were here were taking it easy, quietly chatting to one another, and actually pushing in the small seats of the white tables before leaving, which is a lot more than he can say during lunch rush.

The small restaurants in the area were setting up for the day, so there weren’t any winding lines, except at the coffee stand, of course. The other places were prepping meals, cleaning their counters, and restocking their supplies. It was always fun to peek through their large windows to see what they were making.

Joe did enjoy his strolls around the restaurants–was that a good word to call them? They didn’t exactly resemble any of those bigger, fancier restaurants Joe had been to before, instead, they looked more like little houses. Their wooden, brick, and stone exteriors, their red and brown roofs, the trimmed windows along their sides, and the lamp posts surrounding them always reminded Joe of the neighborhoods he’d walk through during his free time. It was charming.

Though, as much as he loved the WVBA’s Garden, their food could never compare to the delights served at a local cafe, or the bakeries he and Sandman love to visit.

Joe finally took a sip of his coffee. Warm, but not scalding. It does a body well.

As Joe took another sip, he noticed someone in the distance.

Was that…?

Was that Kaiser up ahead?

Joe’s eyes lit up. It was!

He picked up the pace, but not by too much. He didn’t want to spill his coffee.

Kaiser was sitting at one of the wooden benches reading the paper. How on Earth was he not cold? Sure, it wasn’t freezing, but a beige short sleeved shirt and green khakis? Those things were probably as thin as the newspaper. Joe was wearing his black turtleneck, long red pants, and a scarf and he was still cold!

“Good morning, Kaiser.” Joe said, a hint of melody in his tone.

“Ah.” Kaiser glanced up from his paper before turning the page, “Good morning. Have you come to talk about the article?”

“No, I hardly have the time to–article? What article?” Joe leaned over Kaiser’s shoulder, skimming through the words on the pages.

Kaiser closed the paper then flipped it to the front, pointing to a side column with a picture of a broad man above.

“I saw that Sandman had been mentioned and thought you had read it already.” Kaiser said.

Joe read the column. It was nothing interesting at first, but as it went on and on, he couldn’t help but feel a tick of annoyance. That tick then grew to frustration. Then anger. Then before Joe knew it, he was gripping his cup so tightly coffee was starting to spew from the lid.

This…

This is nonsense.

This is repulsive.

This is absurd!

This is–

~ ~ ~

“Sandman!” Glass Joe kicked the door to the training room open, “Have you seen this blasphemy!?” He held the newspaper high into the air.

Mr. Sandman stopped his training with Bald Bull and narrowed his eyes.

“I can’t even see it from here.”

Glass Joe sputtered. He gripped the paper tightly and marched his way to the other side of the room.

“You will not believe the audacity some people have!” Joe started as he maneuvered his way between the gym equipment, “This–this egotistical little man, this nobody who lives hundreds of miles away–probably living in some dumpster in an alleyway–dared to talk bad of you!” Joe stepped over the dumbbells scattered around the dark gray floors, “Who gave this man an interview? Who allowed this sick freak to talk? How can–hi Bull–how can people just open their mouth and say such vile things?!”

When Joe finally reached his friend, who was leaning against a red punching bag Bull had been punching, he shoved the paper into his face.

“Behold!”

Sandman grabbed the newspaper and read the column. Bull read over his shoulder.

He then lowered it, “Just some guy with a big mouth. Nothin’ new.”

Joe’s jaw dropped. He sputtered again. He motioned to the paper, then to Sandman, then back to the paper.

“Nothing?!” Joe exclaimed, “That man called you a phony! He accused you of paying your way to the top! This is nothing but slander! What are you going to do about this?”

“Not much. The paper’s already been published.” Sandman shrugged.

“Not that!” Joe snatched the newspaper out of his hands and pointed to the man in the picture, “That! We need to do something about him!”

“I don’t even know who he is.” Sandman said. He glanced at Bull, who shrugged. They both stared at the picture. He was just… Some guy. There wasn’t anything interesting about his name either.

“Don’t you want to say anything back? Defend your title?!”

“I think I’ll just keep helpin’ Bull train.” He gave the punching bag a good smack. Bull grinned.

“Yes, but what if he–”

“Weren’t you the guy who said these sorta people don’t get anywhere in life?”

“Well, yes, but–” Joe’s face grew pink, “It’s different when my friends are roped into it.”

“Hey, I appreciate it.” Sandman went over to his black gym bag that laid against the white cement walls, “But a lotta those guys are all bark no bite. Even if he does get all the way over here, he’s still gotta go through everyone else. I bet he won’t even last a day in the Minor Circuit.”

Bald Bull chuckled.

Joe breathed in. Then out.

“Yes, you’re right.” He unraveled his scarf and placed it over his shoulder, “I suppose I got caught in the moment.” He tucked the newspaper under his arm, “Besides, I’m certain we all know who would win if that man dared to show his face here.”

Joe started to take some steps back and patted the paper, “Now then. I need to return this to Kaiser.”

Sandman raised a brow, “You stole that from Kaiser?”

“No!” Joe jumped, “I was–I borrowed it. Like I said–I got caught in the moment.”

“So ya got upset and stole from a defenseless boxing teacher, is what you’re sayin’.”

“Oh, you–” Joe was about ready to go off again when he saw that smirk on Sandman’s face, but he restrained himself. He spun around on his heels and headed to the door, “He’s not defenseless! He’s a rank ahead of me!”

“Yeah, yeah. Take care, Joe.” Sandman’s voice echoed through the room. Glass Joe waved goodbye with the paper then slammed the door shut.

With all that being settled, Sandman and Bull went back to training again.

#punch out #punch out!!#punch out wii #punch out great tiger #punch out bald bull #punch out oc #punch out aran ryan #punch out glass joe #punch out mr sandman #fic #OH ALSO shout out to upperhug. she had this headcanon that tiger's gem flashes depending on his emotions n i LOVVVEEDD that so added it!!!

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randalsgrave · 2 years ago

Text

Sweetness and Light: Part Four

Holy absolute shit you guys. I definitely didn't think this would take as long as it did, but uh... 3 months. Yikes. Anyway. I seem to be on this trend of increasing my page count with each chapter, because this one totaled out at 20 pages. I don't think I've ever written that much for one chapter of anything in my life. On the plus side, though, it's pretty much entirely Bob and Katie goodness so THAT'S a vibe👌

Week one starts off about as gracefully as you'd expect it to at TOPGUN. The week, of course, isn't without its bright spots.

BobxFemale!OC. F/C: Kacey Rohl

Word count: 7.3K

WARNINGS: colorful language; not beta-read (we die like men); minor editing

Recommended soundtrack: Turnin' On the Screw - Queens of the Stone Age

***

Week one of training begins with all the grace and elegance of a first-time pilot - that is, to say, rather abruptly and artlessly. Everhardt isn’t there to coddle them with flowery words of motivation and compliments; he’s there to train them, to turn them into the precise, dead-eye warfighters the Navy needs them to be.

Still, no one’s expecting him to throw them into the fire the way he does.

It’s simple, he says - there will be four areas of instruction, with three weeks of focus dedicated to each one. The first block will focus on air-to-surface; the second on section; the third on division; and the fourth on basic fighter maneuverability, one-on-one sorties - dogfights.

The last block is what has the class raising a collective eyebrow. Everyone’s read up on the curriculum, researched the course of TOPGUN at one point or another; BFM is the first component of the course, the first thing everyone is expected to master in their time at North Island.

Everhardt, however, doesn’t see it that way. “The likelihood of you ever winding up in dogfight situations… You probably have better odds of being struck by lightning,” he explains one morning during lecture. “BFM is the exception, the ‘in-case-of-emergency’ set of skills you are expected to have - but likely not going to use. You learn this last under my instruction because, if all else fails, you still have your skill as a pilot to fall back on. However, we’re not here for ‘if all else fails’; we’re here to learn, refine, and master, as much as it takes to perfect ourselves, so that we don’t wind up in those situations.”

And with that, Everhardt not only introduces the class to air-to-surface tactics, but he sets the pace and the tone for the next 13 weeks. We are here to learn, refine, and master.

And they do. For 12 hours a day, they split their time between class lectures, labs, and hops in their fighter jets (and even then it’s sandwiched between pre-ops and post-ops debrief), working in that endless loop of learning, refining, mastering. Sweating. Straining. Struggling. And that’s not even including PT three times a week, or any of the other trivial Navy bullshit they deal with regularly. It’s just work, on and on and on.

It’s unlike anything they've done before. Katie - and everybody else, no doubt - looks back on the hardest shit she’s been through, and it all just pales in comparison. OCS? Basic flight training? SERE? It doesn’t hold a candle to TOPGUN, to the paces Everhardt is already putting them through. Two days into the course, they’re already zooming thousands of feet above ground, “dropping bombs” and zeroing in on targets with a precision that’s expected of them in 20 years’ time, much less 20 hours.

And it’s done, over and over and over again, with this team and that team, in a seemingly-endless cycle of exhaustion and brain-ache, and goddamn, if they all aren’t frazzled by the time they’re halfway through week one. Hell, even Melendez is gassed three days in, and that’s saying something.

Still, they all know the hardest, the worst, is yet to come. They’re practically hanging on by the seat of their pants, waiting for it to hit them.

They’re here to learn, and by god, they will learn - but there’s no doubt they’ll get their asses handed to them in the process.

And every single one of them would be lying if they said that they weren’t nervous.

***

It’s Saturday, the first training-free day they have in North Island. For many, today is a day of rest and relaxation, a day of recovery after the paces Everhardt has already put them through.

For Katie, it’s the complete opposite.

While the sky normally calls to her, today, it’s the mountains that do it. She’s up and moving by 07, fresh-faced and bright-eyed for the day of adventuring before her. Coffee’s already racing through her veins like lightning, her hair is double-braided and headbanded, and her backpack is stocked with water and enough granola and trail mix to last her a full day. It might be a little overkill for someone with her level of hiking experience - but given what she’s planning on hiking, she might well need all the snacks she can get.

The only thing that’s missing now is someone to hike with.

She grabs her phone off its charger on the nightstand, fires off a blast text. It’s nothing spectacular - a quick blurb reading “Hey, it’s Sand Trap. Planning on driving out and hiking Pyles Peak soon. Anybody wanna tag along?” With how early it is and how much of a beating they took on yesterday’s hop, Katie’s not expecting much of a response, if any.

At first, she’s right. Her first reply is from Fanboy, a brief “Gonna pass, too tired. Thanx tho.” Her second reply isn’t even a reply, really - more of a notification that Halfpint’s left her on read. After that, it’s one response or the other from the few other classmates she’s gotten phone numbers from.

Fuck it. Clearly, no one else is up or interested. Looks like Katie’s on her own for this.

And then her phone dings with another reply.

It’s from Bob. “Sure,” his response reads. “I’ll need a few minutes because I just woke up, but I’ll go.”

Well, how about that. There are signs of life.

Katie smiles softly as she picks up her phone to reply. “All good,” she types. “Can meet you downstairs if you’d like.”

“Sounds good. Should I bring/pack anything?”

“Water, for sure. Snacks if you got em, but if not I have plenty of trail mix and granola.”

“Okay. Yeah, I don’t have anything so I’ll take you up on the trail mix offer.”

“No worries. I’ll see you in the lobby in 5.”

“Okay.”

And just like that, Katie has herself a hiking buddy. Even better, it’s Bob. She’s been meaning to interact more with him; he may be more on the quiet side, but he still strikes her as someone with a lot to say - and honestly, she wants to hear what it is. She’s already looking forward to this immensely.

She shoulders her backpack, grabs her keys and sunglasses, and heads for the lobby, palms drumming an absentminded rhythm on her thighs as she rides the elevator down. She wonders if Bob is as avid of a hiker as she is, wonders if he’s looking forward to this hike just as much as she is. Curious, indeed.

Downstairs, she’s the only one in the lobby who isn’t staff - but not for long. Two minutes after making herself comfortable on one of the couches near the front desk, Bob appears in her line of sight, wearing a loose gray t-shirt, gym shorts, running sneakers, and what looks like a Camelbak swollen with water, looking for all the world like he’s still trying to wake up - and good lord, if Katie doesn’t find that just the tiniest bit adorable.

“You weren’t kidding about just waking up, huh?” Katie asks with a chuckle. “You look like you’re still half-asleep.”

Bob groans, removes his glasses and swipes a hand across his eyes. “I definitely feel it,” he replies, voice deep and heavily laced with sleep. “The hike’ll help. At least, I think it will.”

“It will. You’ll probably be tired afterwards, but at least you’ll be awake during it.”

“I’ll take it.”

“Awesome.” Ignoring the semi-awkward pause in conversation, Katie lets her gaze drift towards the breakfast bar in the back corner of the lobby, curls her bottom lip thoughtfully. Food-food sounds like a good idea… “You hungry? Wanna eat before we head out?”

“I’m good. I’m rarely a breakfast person to begin with, but it’s even less so this early in the morning.”

No pre-hike omelet for her, then. Oh well.

“You ready to go then?”

“Yeah. Whenever you are.”

Katie only grins before nodding to the door and in the direction of the parking lot, a silent “shall we” that cues him to follow.

And follow, Bob does. Katie feels less like she’s walking with a friend and more like she’s leading a pet along for a lap around the neighborhood. He’s still reserved and guarded; that much is obvious.

Hopefully, this hike with her will help him break out of his shell.

She glances over as they’re walking through the parking lot to the 4Runner, takes note of the two cartoon-style lightbulbs on Bob’s t-shirt with a smirk on her face. “Nice shirt,” she comments.

Bob looks down at his shirt, almost as if he forgot what he’s wearing, then smiles. “You like Queens of the Stone Age?”

“I only know a couple of their songs, but I like the ones I’ve heard. Guessing the lightbulbs are from one of their albums?”

“Yeah, they’re from Era Vulgaris. It’s one of my favorite albums by them.” He pauses, seemingly contemplates whether or not he should say what he’s thinking. Katie has to resist reaching out, resist putting a hand on his shoulder and urging him to speak. C’mon Bob, talk to me.

Thankfully, he sucks in a breath and goes for it. “I’ve got it downloaded on my phone. We could listen to it on the way. Only if you want to though, I don’t wanna impose-”

“I’d love that. Let’s do it.”

“Oh. Um, okay then. Cool.” Bob’s looking straight ahead with his brows furrowed - and hell, Katie can hear the wheels in his brain turning, whirring. He clearly wasn’t expecting that reaction from her - and now he’s looking like he’s not sure where to go next.

There has to be a reason for that.

“You seem kinda’ surprised,” Katie observes as they climb into the car and she turns the key in the ignition.

“Hm? About what?”

“That I said yes.”

Bob blinks, purses his lips. The wheels in his head are turning again. Spinning for a reply.

“I dunno,” he finally answers with a shrug. “Usually I get laughed off or brushed off. Your reaction’s kind of a first for me.”

Well. There’s something she wasn’t expecting.

“I find that a little hard to believe.”

“You’d be surprised,” Bob replies simply.

There it is again - the gnawing in her stomach. The hurt she feels for him. It’s strange, she thinks. She’s known Bob for a grand total of a week; why she’s feeling her heart bleed for him like this is a mystery to her.

Her mouth twists and she contemplates for one, two, three seconds as she maneuvers them out of the parking lot. “Well… fuck ‘em then,” she says after a moment. “I wanna hear what you got, so…” Her lips curl upwards in an encouraging - if not slightly daring - smile. “You gonna throw that album on or what?”

Bob’s eyes immediately flash. Before she knows it, he’s got his phone hooked up to her bluetooth, and the opening notes of Turnin’ On the Screw are beating forth from her speakers, setting the tone for both the album and the half-hour drive ahead of them. It’s punchy, off-beat, and bold, definitely not the shoegaze Katie regularly listens to, but who cares? The sound of this is different and she likes it.

When she tells Bob as much, his eyes light up like a Christmas tree.

“Yeah, they’re kind of mad lads with their sound,” he explains, blue eyes practically sparkling behind his glasses. “I don’t know anybody besides Josh Homme who can make an out-of-tune guitar sound good. It’s actually pretty nuts what he’s capable of.”

And he’s like this the whole drive to the Pyles Peak trailhead. Bob is practically a subject-matter expert on this band, from the original lineup and album release order, right down to the history of each song and hell, even the meaning of all the lead singer’s tattoos. Anything and everything there is to know about this band, Bob knows it. Katie’s impressed, to say the least. She can’t ever think of a time where she was able to recall several dense bits of information in a small time frame. The fact that this guy can… Hot damn.

It’s more than that, though. Bob’s just… talking. Engaging. Suddenly he’s a far cry from the socially pained introvert she spent lunch with on Monday. He’s at ease, comfortable. Hell, he’s animated, voice louder than normal and the gestures of his hands speaking just as much as his words. No doubt the choice of music is playing a part in that, but in any case it brings a small smile to Katie’s face. She likes seeing this side of him.

They make it through the first five songs of the album before they arrive at the trailhead, the sun brightening and cresting over the mountain sightline. On one hand, Katie has half a mind to have Bob continue the album on his phone as they hike; it’s been a rollercoaster of new sounds and she’s not quite ready to get off it yet. On the other hand, though, with her life and current day-to-day goings being as noisy and busy as they are, the thought of peace, of nature-induced quiet, makes her almost breathless with anticipation.

Nah. Queens of the Stone Age can wait for a bit. Right now, she just wants her, Bob, and the sounds of the mountain trail.

Speaking of Bob… He’s out of the car, fumbling to loop his arms through the straps of his Camelbak, blue eyes following the snaking path of the trail. “So this is it… How far is it to the summit?”

“Last time I looked, I think it was a few miles one way. Once we hit the halfway point, we can stop and figure out if we wanna keep going or call it.” She readjusts the pack and straps bearing on her shoulders with a breath, then looks back at Bob. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

It’s all the go-ahead Katie needs to begin their long, slow, arduous trek up the trail and into the mountains. She steps off, steps measured and slow enough for Bob to keep up, hands on the straps of her backpack and eyes roving left, right, left, right, taking in the scenery around them. The plant life is low to the ground and scrubby, pale green and dusty brown - quite unlike the mythical forests of her home state, or the woods of the east coast.

“It’s so dry,” Katie comments to no one in particular.

Drifting close behind her, Bob chuckles. “Welcome to SoCal. The scenery here is pretty much opposite of what we all grew up with.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me… Where are you from, anyway?”

“Kind of all over the place.”

“Lemme guess - military brat?”

“Oh yeah. 12 years of moving here, there, and everywhere before dad finally retired and we settled down.”

“Nice. Where’d you guys wind up?”

There’s no missing the slight glower on Bob’s face when Katie turns to ask him. “Middle of nowhere Georgia, unfortunately.”

“Ah.” The smallest hint of a smirk tugs at Katie’s lips. “That explains the twang then.”

“Oh god, I hope there isn’t a twang. I fought picking up that accent so hard.”

Katie snickers, pinches the space between her thumb and her index finger. “There’s a tiny bit of a twang,” she grins. “Just a liiittle bit.”

Bob returns the grin - sort of. It’s heavily tinged with exasperation. “Guess I gotta work on that some more then.”

“I mean, there’s nothing wrong with a Georgia accent. I think it’s kinda’ nice, actually.”

“Well, I’m glad you do,” Bob grunts as they begin their climb up a steep incline. “I personally don’t like it. It makes me think of all the backward-ass pricks I went to school with.”

“Fair enough; don’t wanna be associated with them.”

“Yeah. Besides,” he continues, “I think of myself as being more from Washington, anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm. Most of my dad’s family is from the Walla Walla-Prosser area. That, and I was born at the Naval hospital in Bremerton. It’s felt more like home for me than anywhere else - which is weird because I haven’t lived there since I was a toddler, and I don’t really have memories of it, aside from, like, fuzzy images of trees and a dog and my dad in his winter blues and… I dunno… I…” Bob’s face suddenly flushes red and he just stalls, the words dying on his lips as his eyes dart down to his feet, bashful, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I get carried away sometimes, and the last thing you’d wanna hear on a hike is me babbling for no good reason.”

Make that three times this week that Bob Floyd has made Katie’s heart twinge.

Her head shakes vigorously. “No, no! Don’t be sorry! You’ve got nothing to be sorry about!” She pauses, considers her words carefully, finally settles for a soft smile that reads ‘please trust me’. “I like listening to you talk.”

Bob blinks. Really?”

“Yeah. The stuff you’re talking about is interesting. You also sound relaxed and comfortable. It’s nice.”

And god damn it, I mean it.

Another pause, right before Katie purses and quirks her lips to one side of her face. A subject change might be in order.

“You do a lot of hiking, Bob?”

There’s a momentary glimmer in his eyes, one of relief. The attention’s still on him, but it’s a little less intimidating than what it was a moment ago - and based on what his eyes did just now, this is a topic he’s much more comfortable talking about. “Uh, yeah, actually. I only really started doing it when I first got stationed at Lemoore, but I try to do it every weekend.”

“Sweet. Where do you go? Or where have you gone, I guess.”

“Well,” he starts, “I’ve already been to Yosemite and Kings Canyon, plus all the stuff close to base.” His brow furrows for a second. “Technically I’ve already been to Big Sur, but there are so many different parks and trail systems down there that I can’t really consider myself ‘done’ with it.”

“Oh man, Big Sur… That whole area is on my hiking bucket list. Like, between the mountains and the redwoods and all that…”

“Yeah, it’s beautiful. Definitely one of my favorite places in California.”

“Honestly, I might see about sneaking up there one of these weekends. Bring along some camping gear, hang out in the trees…”

“Lemme know if you do,” Bob says. “I’ll probably go with you.”

Man oh man, Katie would be lying if she said that the thought of that didn’t make her heart stutter.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll keep you posted.” She coughs, pushes ahead, puts distance between the two of them so he can’t see the flush creeping across her face. Where in the hell is that coming from?

“Please do.”

“Promise I will. Now c’mon, we’ve got a mountain to climb.”

***

Three miles in, Bob and Katie are standing atop Cowles Mountain, in equal parts admiring the view sprawling below them and deciding whether or not they want to continue on. Whatever decision they make, Katie is ultimately glad she thought to bring two bottles of water; there’s been a lot of up-and-down movement on the trail, and the sun is hanging high in the sky, pounding down on the two of them. This is just a bit rougher than she thought it was going to be.

She tosses a handful of trail mix into her mouth, contemplates. “Y’know, we are standing on a mountain with a nice view. We totally could call it good right here.”

“But…”

“But… I did promise Pyles Peak, which is supposed to have an even nicer view. So” - Katie looks back over her shoulder at Bob, who’s currently wiping away the sweat on his brow with his sleeve and sipping water from his Camelbak, quirks an eyebrow at him - “whaddaya wanna do?”

He takes another long pull of water, ponders, shrugs. “Well… I’ll happily take whatever I can get, but if you wanna keep going, then I’m happy to tag along.”

Power of decision goes back to Katie. And as beat as she may be from the first half of the hike, she knows what she wants.

She smiles, reshoulders her backpack. “Let’s keep going, then.”

Bob nods wordlessly before coming up beside Katie and matching his pace to her slow, easy one. “How far is it to the actual summit now?”

“‘Bout two and a half miles,” Katie replies. “The trail has a bunch of rollers before it goes into the summit incline. It’s a little rough-going at the end, but all the reviews I’ve read about Pyles Peak say that it’s worth the rough stuff. Sounds like some of the Appalachian trails I’ve hiked, if you ask me.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. Appalachian Trail anything is brutal.”

“Yeah.”

They fall into a nice, easy silence, their focus on the ever-dipping trail and the footsteps they take. Left foot, right foot, left, right, left right left, slow and steady. At this point in the hike, it’s about all either of them can really concentrate on.

Until…

“So, uh… Why do they call you Sand Trap? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Katie’s face splits into a beam. Stupid as the story is, she loves telling it.

She clambers over a large cluster of rocks, pushes upwards and onwards with a single labored breath. “You remember Pensacola, right? How that place was a massive breeding ground for stupid antics?”

“I… guess?”

“Did you ever go to Flora-Bama? Or Seville’s?”

“Eh, not really. Wasn’t my thing.”

For a moment, it seems like that’s all Bob’s going to say - and damn if that doesn’t throw Katie off just the slightest bit. She’s never met a pilot or NFO who didn’t engage in some form of Floridian stupidity. How the hell is she supposed to explain this now?

Her silence and the stumped look on her face must do a number on Bob; suddenly he looks panicked, like he screwed up real bad, and his mouth goes off running a million miles a minute while he tries to salvage the conversation. “I knew a lot of people that went, though!” he all but blurts out. “I heard all of their stories about how crazy it was!”

“Oh… Okay then, that works.” Boy, she’s learning all kinds of things about Bob Floyd today. “Well…When I was in basic flight training, me and some friends hit up Seville’s and Flora-Bama in one go one night. Drunken fuckery happened. Like, a lot of it. So much, in fact, that I woke up hungover, in a sand trap, on a golf course the next morning. No clue how I even wound up on a golf course.”

“Oh my god, really?”

“Yeah, really. Classmates never let me live it down.”

“That is… Wow. That’s kind of awesome, actually.”

“Mine’s not even the craziest,” Katie continues with a snicker. “We had a guy in our class get stuck with ‘Lord Farquaad’ as his callsign. He, uh, had a tendency to sacrifice wingmen. Totally didn’t help that he was the shortest guy in our class, too - like, five-four short.”

Bob juts his chin out and makes a face that Katie can only describe as pompous. Oh boy, she can already tell where this is going.

“Some of you may die,” he says in a grandiose voice, “but that is a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

He’s a walking music encyclopedia AND he can quote Shrek on command. Katie knew he’d be a good one to be friends with.

“All right, my turn.”

“Shoot.”

“Why is your callsign your name? Seems kinda’… uncreative.”

Bob visibly stiffens, and Katie isn’t sure if it’s because she’s caught him off-guard or because it’s a touchy subject. Both, probably. Shit, please don’t clam up on me, not now.

“…Is it okay if I ask that, or…?”

“Yeah no, it’s fine, it’s totally fine. It’s… it’s kind of a long story.”

It’s the same reaction from day one of instruction - not rude, not at all, but… closed off. Almost dismissive. This is something he’s not comfortable talking about with her, not yet. Katie can only hope that he eventually reaches that level of comfort with her, but until then…

He must sense the inner whirring of her mind, because he glances over at her with a small, tired but reassuring smile. “It’s not you, it’s just… It’s a lot.” He pauses, tilts his gaze skywards in thought. “I’m sure it’ll all come spilling out some other time.”

And that’s that; that’s all he’s going to say on it for now. Katie’s heart sinks a little bit at the realization, but she shrugs it off and presses on. Whether or not he wants to talk about it is ultimately on Bob, not her. He’ll get to it when he gets to it.

Hopefully.

“You good to step up the pace a little bit?” she asks, effectively ending the conversation before it has a chance to turn awkward.

“Uh, yeah. That’s fine.”

“I’m sorry; normally I like taking my time on hikes but it’s starting to get hot out here.”

“Hey, no complaints from me. It’s your hike; I’m just here for the ride.”

“Yeah, well, I’d still like to not bust you up in the first week.”

“You won’t. Trust me, I can handle it.”

“If you say so.” Her stride lengthens and her steps quicken, just the tiniest bit - not enough to blitz ahead of Bob, but enough to step up the pace and really get them moving. Just get to the top, that’s all she wants now.

She’s willing to bet that Bob isn’t far off from that sentiment, either.

She sucks in a long breath, forces it out with a single exhale, and pushes on.

Time to climb this rock.

***

It’s half ‘til noon when Bob and Katie finally reach the summit of Pyles Peak, out of breath, sweaty, and sufficiently red-faced. The sun is hanging directly over them now, without a cloud in sight to break up the beams beating down on them. Katie has no doubt that she’s going to come out of the hike sunburnt as shit, but right now, she couldn’t care less. They made it up the mountain.

And oh boy, is it worth the suffering.

In her 27 years on earth, Katie has seen some pretty spectacular views from high places. Virginia has offered panoramas of the Appalachians in ways she never would’ve imagined - and Oregon? Good god. Her home state has arguably the best views in America and she’s gotten to experience every single one of them in their prime. Few things - very few things - can top the vistas and sheer glory she’s witnessed.

This one, however, comes pretty close.

On top of Pyles Peak, it’s a whole other world. The entirety of San Diego is laid out before them, gently rolling suburbs and grid-like urban areas, stretching and fading into the vastness of the Pacific Ocean off in the distance. It’s tranquil, peaceful - and undeniably awe-inspiring.

“Would you look at that,” Bob murmurs, the reverence clear in his voice. “Can see the whole city from up here.”

“Beautiful, innit?”

Bob nods, then chuckles to himself. “Can almost see my house in Lemoore.”

“Har har.” With a rather unceremonious grunt, Katie all but flings herself onto one of the boulders in the middle of the outlook, legs dangling haphazardly over the front of it. “God, it feels good to sit.”

Bob doesn’t quite collapse on the boulder the way Katie did; he seats himself quite neatly beside her, arms pillared on either side of him to keep himself upright - but his back rounds, sags even. When he exhales the long breath he’s apparently been holding, it sags even more. Clearly, this hike has taken just as much out of him as it has out of Katie.

“You’re right,” he says, “that does feel good. Oh man…”

Katie snickers, digs through her backpack for her water and some granola. “Told you.”

“Wonder what the return trip’s gonna be like.”

“Eh, let’s not think about that right now, yeah? Let’s just process that we’ve climbed two mountains today.”

“Yeah, fair enough.”

The conversation soon dies away, and for a while, silence stretches between the two of them, comfortable silence, save for the sipping of water and the quiet crunching of granola. It’s silence that Katie appreciates; she now has an opportunity to put her brain in neutral, to let it wander.

It’s a rare moment, being able to just sit and ponder. With her line of work, it’s always do, do, do, always go, go, go. For as much as she loves what she does, sometimes Katie wishes that it didn’t have to be this way. Hell, it probably couldn’t be this way; she can’t think of anyone who could permanently sustain that level of constant motion.

But, if she’s not doing this for the rest of her life, then… What is there?

Maybe that’s why she asks the question that’s started floating in her head.

“You ever think about what you’d do if you weren’t in the Navy?” Katie asks, eyes on the expanse of land below them.

Bob shrugs, takes a pull of water from his Camelbak. “Sometimes. Not sure what I’d do, though. This job is all I’ve ever wanted, really.”

Katie can understand that. Life as a fighter pilot just makes sense to her; it always has. Most days, she’s like Bob and can’t really imagine doing anything else. Up here in the mountains, though? She sees another life, another free existence. Up here, even when she’s tethered to the ground, she feels like she’s flying. This is home just as much as the clouds are.

“I think I’d find a way to hike for a living, or be a park ranger or something.” Hell, anything to tie her to the land, to the trees and wilderness. Anywhere that she can’t be found easily.

Anywhere that she can’t find her easily.

“Park ranger would be cool. Where would you wanna work?”

“...Probably Mount Hood. Or Crater Lake. I mean, any one of the national parks would be amazing, but… I think I’d wanna stick to the ones from back home.” Shockingly.

“Mount Hood…” Bob’s eyebrows furrow, the name visibly tumbling, rattling around in his head as he tries to connect it to an unknown point B. “...Oregon?”

“That’s the one,” Katie smiles.

“Never woulda’ guessed you’re from Oregon.”

“Surprise. Born and raised in Portland.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah…” Clearing her throat, Katie rolls up the right sleeve of her t-shirt, revealing a small, but detailed panorama of the Mount Hood sightline tattooed along her inner bicep. “I haven’t been home in years, but home’s always with me.”

She makes it a point not to elaborate on how long ‘years’ is. The exact number is wrapped in truths and memories she can’t afford to dredge up, not now - and certainly not while she’s with someone as sweet and unassuming as Bob Floyd. Would he understand? Who knows. Katie’s not going to find out. At the end of the day, it’s all just drama, sob stories.

And that’s probably the last thing he wants. Damn certain it’s the last thing Katie wants.

No one likes a drama queen, Katherine Mae, NO ONE.

“...Sand Trap?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

A furrow of her eyebrows. “Yeah, I’m fine. Is there something wrong?”

“No, just… You had this really intense look on your face all of a sudden and… I dunno, you looked like you were mad.”

Katie’s heart lurches in her ribcage. Fuck. It seems her thoughts made their way onto her face just now.

Defensive, now - “No no, not at all! I’m just…” Now her brain is turning somersaults, scrambling for a reply that’s equal parts honest and deterring. “I dunno, I’m…” Jesus Christ Garland, SPEAK - “I guess I’m just wiped from the climb up.”

There are lame excuses, and then there’s whatever the fuck Katie just came up with. There’s no way Bob’s buying it; the slightly furrowed look on his face tells her as much. Still, whether it’s because he’s too much of a gentleman to pry or because he wouldn’t know where to start or what to ask first, he doesn’t comment on it, something that Katie is deeply grateful for. She knows it’ll come up in conversation again and that there will be no avoiding it when it does - but she can at least avoid it for now.

She diverts, switches subjects. “You okay with taking a picture with me?” It’s a bit of whiplash, but as far as she’s concerned, it’s the best course of action at the moment.

If it weren’t for the fact that they’re the only two people on the summit, Katie’s certain Bob would’ve glanced around in search of someone else. He doesn’t even need to speak for her to know what’s running through his head and across his face: “Me?”

“They’re keepsakes from the places I’ve been,” she explains, right before a wry smirk makes its way across her lips. “And, y’know, proof that I’m not a loser with no friends.”

Bob opens his mouth to speak - no doubt to brush it off or to self-deprecate in some way. However, he surprises Katie when he closes it instead, and nods. “I could probably use my own proof too, honestly.”

“That’s the spirit. C’mere.”

Bob complies, hopping up on the boulder and squatting behind Katie with a closed-mouth grin on his face, while she throws up a peace sign with one hand and makes a scrunched face. One tap later, the ascent up Pyles Peak is immortalized on Katie’s phone.

“Started from the bottom, now we here,” she quips as fires the picture off in a brief text to Naomi. “Literally.”

“Aren’t those the lyrics to a song?”

Katie shrugs. “Probably.”

“Thought as much.” As Bob rises to his feet, a wince slips from his mouth. “Oh god, my legs - y’know what, I’ll definitely take you up on food now. This hike was rougher than I thought it was gonna be.”

“Thank god, I was hoping you’d say that…” Katie purses her lips together in thought, surveys the horizon from their perch atop the mountain. “You oughta know this - what’s the west-coast equivalent of Waffle House?”

“What is it with you and breakfast food?” Bob laughs.

“No, it’s not a breakfast food thing! I just… I’ve been out in Norfolk for the last three years, and there’s always been a Waffle House close to everywhere I’ve gone hiking. Kind of a ‘post-hike’ tradition, you know? Bust your ass climbing up the side of a mountain and reward yourself with a bunch of carbs at the end of it.”

“All right, you got a point there. Um… Denny’s, I guess?”

Katie makes a face. “Bugh, Denny’s?”

“Hey, it’s low-cost breakfast food, and it’s probably cooked by a guy with a cigarette in his mouth,” Bob replies with a shrug. “What more could you want?”

“You do realize that you don’t go to Denny’s; you end up at Denny’s, right?”

“People ‘wind up’” - fingers crooked in air quotes - “at Waffle House, too.” He hops down from the rock he’s been perching on, turns to Katie with a smirk on his face. “I mean, c’mon, like any of us have never wound up drunk at Waffle House at 2 AM.”

“Whatever happened to ‘drinking’s not really my thing’?”

“No, Flora-Bama and Seville’s weren’t really my thing. There’s a difference. Trust me, I did my fair share of drinking in BFT.”

“Why Lieutenant Floyd, you troublemaker!”

“Oh, I’m the troublemaker, miss ‘night of drunken stupidity’, miss ‘somehow wound up blacked out on a golf course’?”

“Damn Bob, you didn’t have to call me out like that,” Katie retorts with a laugh. “All right then, what were your chosen spots for weekend debauchery?”

“Old Hickory, mostly. Sometimes O’Riley’s. Places where I was less likely to run into a bunch of rowdy E-2s and E-3s.”

Katie grins smugly. “Or rowdy ensigns.”

“That too. God, sometimes they were worse than the enlisted guys.”

Bob slips off his glasses to wipe away the sweat and grime around his eyes. Katie can’t help but stare when he does. He’s quite handsome, Bob. Not that he wasn’t handsome to begin with, but without the glasses to break up the lines of his face… Wow. If Katie didn’t know any better, she’d say she’s been hiking with an old Hollywood star this whole time. The wavy, windswept golden-brown hair, the bright blue eyes, the strong jaw…

“You okay?”

Blink. Blink. “Huh?”

“You looked like you zoned out.”

Oh god, he’d caught her staring. Christ, it’s a good thing her face is already red from exertion; she’s pretty sure it would be turning beet-colored if it wasn’t.

“Sorry,” she mumbles sheepishly. “You kinda caught me off-guard there.”

“Oh?” He readjusts his glasses, perched once more on the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean?”

Oh my god, this isn’t happening, is it?

“I mean… You look different without your glasses, is all.”

“Well… is that a good thing?”

Oh, Bob.

She lets a small smile creep across her face. “Yeah… Yeah, it’s a good thing.”

Bob doesn’t seem to really react to the admission - not in any blatantly obvious way, anyway. Katie does, however, glimpse a slight puff of his chest out of the corner of her eye. And that? That really makes her smile.

They loop around the boulders to the mouth of the trail, looking at it with a mild sense of dread curling in their stomachs. Doing almost five and a half miles in one direction is one thing - but doing it twice? Oh man.

This is going to suck a bit.

And it does. Funnily enough, though, the return trip goes by a lot quicker than the initial climb to the top of Pyles Peak. Probably because we’re desperate to be done with it, Katie muses to herself as they make their way back to the trailhead.

Three hours and ten minutes later, they’re finally back where they started - and though they may be worse for wear and drenched in more sweat than they would’ve thought possible, there’s no stopping the grins from spreading across their faces at their accomplishment.

“So, what do we think?” Katie asks as they walk - or, rather, hobble - their way back to the 4Runner. “Pyles Peak: worth the ass-kicking or not?”

Bob wheezes out a chuckle. “Dunno. Can’t really decide if I don’t have a brain - and I’m pretty sure I left mine somewhere on the mountain…”

That merits a snicker from Katie. “Means it was a good hike, then.” She pauses to fish her key ring out of the front pocket of her backpack, unlocks the car with a click of her button fob. “Of course, if you wanna make it a great hike, then you gotta have a massive plate of food at the end,” she says as she all but flings her backpack into the back seat area.

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Where I’m from, it ain’t successful unless you have the food at the end.”

“Well, I’m still up for Denny’s, if you are.”

“Oh same. I know what I said earlier about Denny’s versus Waffle House, but I’m absolutely starving right now, so I’ll happily take you up on Denny’s.”

“Good.” Bob pulls his phone out of his pocket, searches for restaurants in the nearby area. “There’s one 20 minutes out. It puts us a little further from base, but-”

“That’s fine with me; let’s do it.” She hops in the driver’s seat and starts the car up, slumping in the driver’s seat with a blissful sigh as cold air whirls through the car. She’s only like this for a moment, though, before she’s sitting back up, and maneuvering them out of the parking lot towards their designated food spot. It’s been a long day, and she’s gone long enough without much to eat.

She turns to Bob, smirk on her face as they hit the main roads. Time to pick up where they left off earlier.

“Now then, where were we with that Queens of the Stone Age album?”

***

It’s closing in on 1600 when Bob and Katie make it back to the Navy Lodge, bodies and minds sated with carb-laden breakfast plates and good conversation. While the rest of the lodge patrons are getting ready for or are on their way to an evening of excitement and socializing, the two of them are ready to call it quits. Pyles Peak was a lot longer and more intense than either of them realized; even with the large post-hike meal, their bodies are exhausted beyond repair. Long rest is an immediate necessity.

When Katie says as much during their slow - very slow - amble to the elevators, Bob nods wearily in agreement.

“Gotta say,” he chuckles as they step inside one of the cars, “I’ve done some intense hikes before, but you? You’re hardcore. That was the longest hike I’ve ever gone on.”

Katie knows Bob’s being good-natured about it, but she’s unable to stop her face from contorting into a wince. “I promise I wasn’t trying to break you - or me, for that matter.” If the dull aching in her legs is any indication, she came damn close to it. She severely underestimated that hike.

“No harm done. I’m just not gonna have a good time at PT on Monday.”

“Make that two of us,” Katie chuckles weakly.

It’s a short ride up in the elevator. Within seconds of stepping on, it dings and jolts to a stop at the third floor. The two shuffle off, make their way down the corridor to Katie’s room, swaying, drifting close to each other. The distance is a lot smaller than the arm’s length they started the day with, Katie notes absentmindedly.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Bob says during the slow walk. “Pretty sure I would’ve spent all day holed up in my room if you hadn’t said something.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t,” Katie replies, lips curled in a gentle smile. “I had a great time with you. You’re a good hiking buddy.”

“I try to be. Honestly, I should do it more often.”

The words hang in the air, open, inviting, tempting. It’s a golden opportunity for someone to jump on them and make a move of some sort. That’s not the surprising part.

What’s surprising is how fast Katie seems to jump on it.

“Well, I’m always up for it, so… anytime you wanna go, lemme know. I’m happy to take you with me.”

The corners of Bob’s eyes crinkle as a smile spreads across his lips. “I’d like that.”

They’ve long since arrived outside of Katie’s room, and now stand opposite each other before the white-paneled wood door, looking, staring - and god, if it isn’t the strangest, but most intriguing thing. Today’s hike was only the second time they’ve spent time together, and yet, it felt like they’d been hanging out for years with how easy, how relaxed their interactions were. It felt… nice. If this is what it felt like after a week of acquaintance and two social interactions with him, Katie’s eager to know what the feeling’s like after another week or two, maybe three.

She’s gonna need to hang out with him more.

And one look at the blue eyes behind the wire-frame glasses tells her that he’s thinking the exact same thing.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll see you later then.”

Yeah, you will.

“See you later, Bob.”

“See you.”

Then, Bob turns, walks off down the hall, and disappears around a corner.

And Katie? Katie shuts the door with a quiet click, and leans back against it, a tired, blissed out grin blooming on her face.

It’s a grin that sticks with her for the rest of the weekend.

@thestagsheadsblog @everything-i-love-in-life @luckyladycreator2 @docdetective

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob top gun #robert bob floyd x female oc #female oc #lewis pullman #bob my beloved #movies #film #fanfiction #top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun 2

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jkstompers · 4 years ago

Text

a royal engagement | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: the rough ground against his clothed knee doesn’t matter anymore when he sees the sweetest smile on your face. everything is perfect.

genre: arranged marriage but they wanna do it right!, best friends to lovers, royalty!au, FLUFF, crown princess!oc, prince!jk, surprises!, jk believes in soulmates confirmed, oc is so in love, perhaps jk flexes how rich he is in this ~(˘▾˘~)

warnings: mentions of sex, sexual tension, more talk of exes (both jk and oc’s), they both talk about losing their virginity, mild jealousy, mentions of menstrual cycles, a little bit of lip locking action

word count: 11.1k

author’s note: ♡ happy jungkook day! ♡ this chapter spans over a week and a half-ish! also i made a little oopsies in the last chapter when i said that oc had only been back in raemor for a week… it’s actually been a month since she’s left the city. i’m sorry about that! i changed it on an arrangement already, but i just figured it out when i was editing this chapter. other than that, i’m so excited for this series and i hope u all enjoy!! pls lmk what u think! ღ'ᴗ'ღ

banner pic creds here! <3

jungkook had the utmost faith in you.

there was something in him that always knew that the love the two of you had ran way deeper than a friendship— probably more than a relationship too. it was something like a soul tie. something the stars created before the earth was ever created. two beings that were always meant to be together, in every universe, in every time before and after this. jungkook held his hope in that. his trust that the love the two of you forged was strong enough to pull you out of your room and into his arms before the plane took off.

the war between your head and your heart ended in a stalemate. you were fighting against something that you knew in your heart you wanted. your brain couldn’t make any more excuses to go against it when jungkook laid his heart out on the floor for you. you’d already made your decision before you went to sleep— before you even left jungkook’s grasp. but you were one for the dramatics.

the sound of the plane landing woke you, you were afraid you were too late. thinking that you slept in during a moment that could decide the rest of your life, you ran. bare feet smacking against the cold floor of the castle, before you eventually made it out to the garden and then the royal runway.

the sound of your voice that morning set it in stone. that jungkook will never love another the way he does you.

“jungkook!” you called out.

he was just about to board the plane for fenutar, jungkook and his advisors huddled into a circle to talk about customs and special etiquette since it’s been a while since he’s last visited. your shout interrupted the conversation. jungkook turned around immediately at the familiar voice.

the sight of you running through the cold, wet grass in your sleep wear with a winter coat and no shoes on. it makes his heart swell, with both love and worry. more so worry. “princess? what are you doing out here?! it’s freezing and you’re not even wearing the right clothes—”

you cut him off as you crash into his body for a tight hug. it felt right, it always did. “am i too late?” you ask, face snuggled into his warm chest.

he shakes his head, a little laugh accompanying the words. “you’re just in time.”

now, jungkook and you lay in your bed, staring up at the ceiling together. since seven in the morning, the two of you have just been talking about everything and nothing. mostly just appreciating each others presence. time passed quickly and it was almost time for everyone to start getting ready for breakfast. “so... how should we tell everyone? over breakfast?” you asked, pulling yourself on his chest and resting your cheek against his ribs.

he smiles at you. “sure, i heard they’re serving waffles, donuts— you know, sweet stuff.”

“and wouldn’t our news be so sweet?” you grinned. he laughs and you can feel his chest rise and fall under your head, the sound of his laughter just up against your ear. “should we go now?”

you move to get up, but jungkook stops you, placing a hand on your waist. “let’s stay here for a little bit longer.” he suggests, moving his hand up to run through your hair. “aren’t you tired from your dramatic show of affection this morning?” laughing as his fingers card through the strands of your hair. he combats your glare with a tender massage to your scalp. remembering how you’d always fall asleep whenever he did, and it worked. your eyelids fell and you melt against jungkook as he continues to rub your scalp gently.

love wasn’t scary. times like this, when it’s just you and jungkook; no expectations, no titles, no responsibilities. it’s just love. it wasn’t terrifying, it’s not painful. well, maybe it is sometimes. like how your heart beats out of your chest whenever jungkook looks at you, eyes glistening with admiration. like when you smile at jungkook and he feels like he could burst at any second just from the sight of you. love is hard to explain. love is whatever you make it out to be. and right now, love is in the curve of jungkook’s lips when he smiles at you. love is in the palm of your hand when you reach out to hold him.

the sound of the knocks on the door doesn’t register until the second round of taps. “princess, it is time for breakfast.” you hear from behind the door.

you sit up. “i’ll be right out!” trying to get out of bed but jungkook pulls you back.

“uh-uh,” he tsks. “you’re not dressed.” you furrow your eyebrows before you look down at what you’re wearing. a slip dress, the one you wore to sleep to be specific. “i won’t look, don’t worry.” he laughs, scooting himself up on your bed and covering his face with one of your pillows. he ignores how nice it smells, just like that shampoo he really likes. you bought it back in the city, raemor doesn’t have shampoos that smell like this.

he hears you rustle around in your closet before he hears a faint zip. “wait— jungkook, how does this look?”

the pillow is pulled away from his face and his eyes lay on you. with a colorful sundress draped on your body. it flows and compliments your skin beautifully. you’re beautiful. god, you’re gorgeous. asking jungkook for his opinion wouldn’t help, he’s biased. you’re pretty in his eyes no matter what you wear. “that— yeah, it’s— you look great.” he stumbles over his words.

“cat’s got your tongue?” you tease. in retaliation, jungkook ruffles up your hair a bit, making you groan and spend another five minutes in front of the mirror to fix it. meanwhile, jungkook pulls himself off the bed and straightens his outfit out, opting to leave his jacket off since it was toasty in the castle. he still looks proper and handsome with his white button up and dress pants on. for the last touch, you dig through your jewelry box, knowing that it has to be somewhere in there.

then there it was, at the bottom, tangled with a necklace from your mother, was the friendship bracelet jungkook gave you when you were twelve at the lantern festival. a dainty gold chain with a flower embellishment on it, signifying the promise the two of you made. he watches from afar when you put it on, trying to hide his surprise. “you still have it?”

you nod, “you don’t?”

“i do.” he assures. “i just didn’t think you’d remember it after all this time.”

you scoff playfully, walking towards him. “of course i remember,” linking your arm with his. “i remember everything.”

with that, the two of you step out of your room and down to the dining hall. they were expecting you, but not jungkook. the shock on everyone’s faces was evident. your parents, clementine, your ladies, venus, even blue. it was a good surprise though. both of your parents had to hide their big smiles behind their napkins. the staff kindly added another chair next to you for jungkook to sit down in. no one spoke up about it, if they wanted to ask, they kept their mouths shut. the two of you enjoy a delicious breakfast without any interference from any of the advisors.

but someone had to say it, and you were happy that it was going to be you.

you let out a cough before standing up, holding a glass of water and clinking your knife against it gently to grab everyone's attention. it only took a few seconds for all eyes to land on you. “jungkook and i have come to the conclusion that we will marry.” you announce.

the hall is overjoyed. cheers coming from your parents, smiles being sent your way from blue and your ladies. even the advisors, the most stern and inexpressive people you know (except for venus) crack a little smile at the news. “but—” you begin. silence quickly takes over the room. “only on jungkook and i’s terms.”

there is a bit of confusion amongst the crowd. so clementine is quick to ask, “and what are those terms, your highness?”

one. “jungkook and i will wed next year, when spring begins.”

two. “both of us will plan the wedding, with help of others, but the main parts will be orchestrated by the two of us.”

three. “there will be no talk of an heir until we are ready.”

“deal!” both yours and jungkook’s parents say as soon as you’re done talking.

“then it is settled! prince jungkook and princess ___ will wed next spring!” clementine announces to the hall and cheers erupt through the room once more.

jungkook stands and gives you a tight hug. the moment is all too perfect, the joyous chatter of everyone around you and the warm embrace of the one you love wrapped around you. it’s something you’ve dreamed of. “i won’t let you down, princess.” he promises you, in your ear, only for you to hear.

“i’ll be the best husband this world has ever seen.”

a good husband has to be honest.

jungkook has something to tell you, and he isn’t sure how to word it. he’s scared you’ll be turned off by it. it is a pretty serious topic, so he needs to say it, or else he would feel the guilt start to build in his stomach. then before he knows it, it’ll spill all out. so it’s better to nip the bud. get it done before it becomes a bigger problem.

the two of you were having a sleepover tonight. it’s the first one you guys had since you’ve been back. jungkook brought all the fancy snacks that his mother packed along with some drinks, while you had your contraband: face masks and matching pajamas for the both of you.

he looks funny with his peel off mask drying on his face. you told him not to make any facial expressions or else it wouldn’t work. jungkook’s been pulling a straight face for ten minutes while watching elle woods destroy chutney in the courtroom.

he couldn’t have chosen a worse time to speak up about it, but it’s been eating at him for long enough. “i have to tell you something.” he says out of nowhere. you look at him, trying not to react with your face. his serious tone makes you want to burst out into laughter, it was just so out of place.

but he looks somber, like how he looks when something’s bothering him. you swallow the urge to laugh and just nod. “you can tell me while i peel this mask off your face, deal?” you ask, moving closer and picking at the edge of the mask.

you wait patiently until he spills whatever he needs to say, but he looks a little distracted by the feeling of the face mask being peeled off. he’s already nervous, he tells himself not to get side tracked. so he just spits it out. “i’m not a virgin.”

well. that was one way to start a conversation.

you try not to show your shock, but your eyebrows were already raised and now your facemask is stuck to itself. “oh— oh my god, jungkook,” you laugh, covering your mouth. “do you want a high-five or something?” you can’t hold back the laughter anymore. you raise your hand up and wait for him to reciprocate.

if you were being honest, it did make you a little jealous. you wondered who he lost it to. it was probably jieun. did he love her? enough to want to lose his virtue to her? while the questions run through your mind, he returns the high-five, taking you out of the downward spiral of queries. you weren’t angry at him. there wasn’t an agreement between the two of you that you’d take each other’s virginities. jealousy is unforgiving, because you knew there was no reason to be mad but you still felt the stupid pang in your heart.

you finish taking his mask off, expertly in one piece. jungkook waits for you as you throw it in the trash. he’s still silent, not really knowing what else to say. he was waiting for an argument, in all honesty. but you’re smiling, seemingly unaffected by his confession. “do you wanna help me take off mine?” you ask him, sitting back on the bed, facing him.

he nods, picking at the edge and trying to do exactly what you did. “you’re not upset?” he asks, pulling the mask off of your face. maybe you were, but you weren’t going to tell him. it’s in the past, what matters is now, and he’s here with you now. you couldn’t be too mad.

maybe you should be honest too. you shake your head, “of course not, i’m not a virgin either.” this conversation only proves that there was no need to hide when it came to jungkook. you admired him for speaking up about it first too, even though you aren’t exactly sure why.

jungkook successfully took your mask off in one piece as well, discarding it into the trash can. you tell him that the two of you have to wash your faces to get the tiny pieces off and he follows you into the bathroom. responding with a, “really?” and a raise of his eyebrows.

you turn the water on and splash him a little bit. “are you trying to say i’m too ugly to get laid, jeon?!” you glare.

jungkook backtracks, “no— no! you’re pretty— really pretty— i just— i didn’t know what to say.”

you roll your eyes playfully. rinsing your face with water and making sure your face is entirely clean from the mask before stepping aside and drying your face off, allowing jungkook to have his turn. “who’d you lose it to?” you asked. despite probably already knowing the answer, you just had to make sure.

“uh—” he starts, looking at you through the mirror. his eyes flicker back down to the stream of water when he answers, “jieun.”

of course. you let out a little laugh, stepping closer and nudging his side with your elbow. “congratulations, dude.” at least he told you, at least he was honest. that’s all that matters. jealousy can play it’s part later. after the sleepover.

“what about you?” jungkook asks when he finishes drying his face off. he wants to know, but at the same time he doesn’t. curiosity gets the best of everyone.

“my ex-boyfriend,” you answer nonchalantly. “min yoongi.”

“boyfriend…” he exaggerates. pursing his lips and nodding, the same jealousy you felt earlier coursing through his veins now. “that’s nice— congratulations.” he says, copying what you said. an awkward silence comes between the two of you, in turn, making the two of you laugh out loud. clutching your stomach type of laugh.

“why did you bring it up in the first place?” you question. curious as to why he would need to speak up about his sexual past.

“well, i just wanted to tell you because— i don’t know— when it happened, you were the first one i wanted to tell, and i know it’s too much information but we always talked about stuff like this— like remember when you told me when you got your first period?” he begins to ramble again. a cute habit of his.

you cringe at the mention, but you remember it so well. jungkook was so worried for you, he did all the research he could on menstrual cycles; asked his parents about it, looked online, asked his advisors, and even the doctors that come around the palace for check-ups. with all the advice he got, he showed up in front of your door with a big basket of your favorite sweets, literally every menstrual product ever produced (he wasn’t sure which one you used so he brought all), and other random things like flowers, just to be extra nice. you ended up crying in his arms because of how lovely the gesture was. it showed what kind of person jungkook was. meticulous, caring, and just so sweet.

“you’re right.” the trip down memory lane was delightful, as it always is whenever it comes to him. “but what… about us?” you asked. the question seemed random, but whenever you travel down memory lane with jungkook, you’re always reminded of the feelings that you had and still do have for jungkook. being on this topic makes you wonder: did he bring this up because he wants to have sex and wants to be transparent about how many partners he’s had?

“what do you mean? what about us?” he asks. his eyebrows are furrowed and you can tell he doesn’t understand.

the question shouldn’t have made you hesitate the way you did, but now you’re trying to find the words to backtrack. “i— um,” your smile fades a little. expecting you and jungkook to jump into a relationship was unrealistic, let alone having sex. “nothing.” you shake your head.

jungkook can somehow read your mind. he probably just picked up on context clues. “if you’re thinking about— you know— us, having sex,” he starts. “we don’t have to do anything of that sort, if you don’t want to.”

the thought is something that’s lingered in your mind for a while. same for jungkook. but neither of you will admit that. so the conversation comes to an awkward halt. you blush. “right! yeah— sure, of course.” you nod. every synonym of ‘okay’ leaves your mouth. it makes jungkook laugh, starting a domino effect and making you laugh. soon enough, the conversation was pushed aside and the two of you focused on whatever movie netflix decided to autoplay. it wasn’t long before the buzz of the tv lulled the two of you to sleep.

“jungkook! save me!” you shout from the doors of his palace, spotting him talking to his father in the foyer. you just ran from your castle to his in hopes to outrun your chaser. jungkook’s head turns at the sound of your voice, your figure coming closer and closer.

“what? what is it?” quickly placing the papers in his hand onto the table, he rushes towards you. his face was riddled with worry as he watched you run towards him.

taking you into his arms, you hold him tightly. “venus won’t stop asking me what color the table cloths for the guests should be— please… spare me, my prince.” you fake sob into his chest.

he lets out a relieved laugh, the stress lifting away when he realized that you were just being bombarded with wedding questions again. “shouldn’t they be white?” he asks.

you look up at him in his embrace, chin against his chest, near his throat. “that’s what i said! then she started asking about the details of the cloth— like if we wanted it to be a certain type of thread, if we wanted a different colored detail woven through it— i just— why does it matter?!”

“it matters because it’s going to be the wedding of the century! now tell me, ___, white with gold detail or—” venus finally finds you after asking the guards where you went. she approaches you hurriedly and tries to shove the samples in your face, but you hide in jungkook’s chest, refusing to look at them.

“the gold detail is beautiful, venus, thank you.” jungkook answers for you. you relax against him once again. venus looks satisfied, putting her cloth samples back into her bag and walking away. with venus finally out of your hair, jungkook rubs your back gently. “wanna stay the night?” jungkook asks in your ear.

“depends.” you act like you think about it. pulling away from his embrace, looking at him with a playful glare. “do they still make those strawberry tarts i used to love?”

jungkook smiles. “i’ll ask them to bake you some right now.”

“deal.” you pinch his cheek. “hello, your majesty!” you greet his dad when you turn around. jungkook moves over to the side and tells one of his assistants to ask the kitchen to make your strawberry tarts.

jungkook’s dad gives you a bright smile. “good evening, princess.” even bowing slightly.

“you know you don’t need to do that, papa, it’s just me.” you smiled, giving him a curtsy back for the courtesy

“yes, yes, i know.” he laughs. “i’m just so glad to see you home.” opening his arms for a hug. which you move for immediately, hugging him tightly.

jungkook’s parents were always amazing to you. never making you feel unwelcome or uncomfortable. “i missed you as well, you and mama jeon always make me feel at home whenever i’m here.” you express your gratitude to him.

he holds one of your hands in his. “it is your second home, ___.”

“thank you,” you grinned. when you look down, his hands are holding an entire stack of papers. it must be something important, you excuse yourself so that they could finish their business. “i’ll see you later, papa! jungkook! i’ll be in your room!”

jungkook only gives you a thumbs up as he takes his place back next to his dad. the two of them watch as you skip your way up the stairs. your figure receding as you make it to his room when jungkook’s dad speaks up once more. “she is something else, son.” patting his back with a light laugh.

jungkook laughs too. a big smile on his face when he says, “in the best way possible.”

“agreed.” he replicates the same smile that’s on his son’s face. “i’m happy for you.”

when he looks down, his father holds out the papers to verify the marriage arrangement for him to sign. your family had already signed and his parents did too, a while ago. jungkook told them that he’ll only sign after you did. then, just after breakfast when the two of you announced your agreement to the arrangement, you signed happily. it’s a little late because jungkook’s been super busy, but now, with excitement in his heart for your future together, he scribbles his signature on the line. “thanks, dad.” he says as he hands the papers back to him.

they settle the rest of their business and finish signing some more papers. after about ten minutes, jungkook is finished with all the reading and signatures. he makes his way to the kitchen and the chefs hand him a platter of strawberry tarts on the cutest serving plate. white with little red hearts that match the strawberries. a detail that jungkook knows you’ll appreciate.

with two waters in his hand and the tarts in the other, he makes his way up the stairs. hilariously, a problem arises when jungkook needs to open the door to his room. he doesn’t wanna put the stuff down and he figures that you probably can’t hear him if he knocks because the volume of the tv is leaking through the door. in the corner of his eye, jungkook can see a guard crossing the hallway. “psst!” he calls out, hoping to get his attention. the guard passes by without a second thought. a few seconds pass and he can hear the guard take a couple steps back.

soon enough, the guard pops his head into the hallway. “everything alright, your highness?” he asks.

“yes, but— do you mind opening the door for me?” he laughs awkwardly. the guard nods and rushes over, turning the knob and sliding the door open. “thanks, man, have a good night.” he smiles at the guard.

“of course— you too, your highness.” he bows before leaving him be.

when he enters the room, you’re nowhere to be seen. the tv is on and playing some scary movie from what he can tell, the background music is eerie and quite frankly creeping him out. he sets down the waters first onto his bedside table and you come out of his bathroom at the perfect time. “there you are.” he sighs. “how are you just going to play a scary movie and then make me come into an empty room?!” he cries.

you roll your eyes playfully. “my apologies, prince, i didn’t hear you come in!” sporting a hoodie and a pair of boxers stolen from jungkook’s closet, you jump into his bed and eye the beautifully plated tarts in his grasp.

jungkook tries not to get distracted by the way you look right now. so cute in his clothes. he wonders if you caught the way that he looked you up and down. when he realizes that you’ve been staring at the tarts, he refocuses and picks up one of the pastries, holding it close to your mouth “your tarts, your majesty.” when you open to take a bite, he snatches it back quickly and takes a bite himself. his face contorted in pleasure, the treat was perfect amounts sweet and sour.

“jungkook,” you deadpanned. your straight face breaks into laughter not even a second later when he holds the bitten pastry back up to your mouth. “you literally ate half of it!”

“then eat the rest of it!” he shoots back with a laugh. you roll your eyes, taking the rest of the pastry into your mouth. in turn, your lips slightly graze against his fingers. it wasn’t helping that your eyes were looking directly into jungkook’s. it was quite obvious that there was some tension here.

neither of you knew how to address moments like this.

most of the time the two of you just act like it never happened. but they’ve just been happening a little too often these days. like that one time you and jungkook almost kissed after he helped you put on a necklace. that time you and jungkook were hiding from blue; he held his hand over your mouth and the other arm tightly around your waist so you wouldn’t move or make a noise. then now, your sex eyes peering directly into his as your lips graze his fingers. yeah… it was a hard thing to talk about.

jungkook is just as confused as you when it comes to whatever the two of you were. just best friends? engaged but friends? dating? no, that wouldn’t be right. jungkook should ask you to be his girlfriend, er— fiancee, right? just because the two of you are arranged to be married doesn’t mean the two of you go from best friends to a pair of lovers just like that, even with requited feelings.

communication wasn’t a hard thing for the two of you. being best friends for twenty years does that to you. fights, the silent treatment, and even that one period of time where you swore that you’d never talk to jungkook ever again; you guys have been through it all.

it’s just that— neither of you really know how to go about it. this conversation was awkward. maybe it’s just not time to talk about it yet, jungkook thought. you were so busy these days. your advisors would pull you away from him before he even got a word in.

then when you two do get the time to spend with each other, the both of you are usually exhausted from the days you’ve had. even though the wedding was an entire year away, there was way more planning than either of you expected. everyone wants it to be perfect. which is nice in hindsight, but it does get annoying sometimes. like how venus was hounding you earlier for the choice of table cloths.

so the two of you just ignore it for now. maybe when it becomes more of a problem, you’ll talk about it with each other. but for now, it’s just something neither of you are ready to face. you chew and swallow the rest of the tart while jungkook moves into the bathroom to get ready for bed. giving the both of you enough time to calm down and gather your thoughts.

when he comes back out, you’ve eaten at least three more strawberry tarts and started a new movie. another scary one. jungkook doesn’t understand how you can watch these kinds of things before you go to sleep, it’s like you’re immune to nightmares or something.

but you weren’t immune to feeling tired. just before jungkook joins you in bed, you let out a yawn before stretching your limbs a little bit.

“tired?” jungkook asks, pulling the comforter over his legs.

you nod, “a little.”

he smiles. “it’s late,” he nods to the clock on his night stand. one in the morning. “sleep, you did a lot of work today.”

“i know,” you groan. “just one more bite.” trying to fit an entire strawberry tart into your mouth was a bad decision. the pastry crumbled into your throat and had you choking for a minute.

jungkook comes to the rescue with your glass of water and a hand rubbing circles against your back. “alright, alright.” he laughs. “no more tarts— go to sleep, princess.”

when you’ve come down from your coughing fit, you nod before you tell him that you’re going to call seungyeon and jimin. “let me just update them about the wedding planning— they’re gonna laugh about everything, i just know it!”

“it’s supposed to be a secret, princess.” jungkook shakes his head, watching as your hands pull out your phone at lightning speed.

“oh… really?” you pause, “i’ve been telling them everything since we’ve started.” jungkook only laughs. he could never be mad at that, why wouldn’t you wanna share something like this with your friends?

“just make sure your advisors don’t find out, okay?” he holds his pinky up for a classic promise, which you reciprocate.

the next fifteen minutes or so, jungkook acts like he isn’t listening to your conversation as he immerses himself into the storyline of this movie, it was interesting but not as interesting as the way you tell them about the wedding. you sound so excited, telling seungyeon that you’re gonna have to go dress shopping soon and that you want her to be there and everything. it makes jungkook smile. it’s more back and forth between the two of you, seungyeon saying of course she’ll be there and you saying that she better because you’re sending a jet to her. it was quite funny.

then seungyeon’s voice rings over the line, updating you about how jimin’s prepping for his big dance recital on saturday and how much they miss you.

you wish you could go to support him. jimin’s been dancing for as long as he’s lived. he’s so passionate about it and you admire him for it. he talked your ear off about how excited he was about this performance. that the crowd is going to be the biggest he’s ever performed for and how scouts will be in the audience. you wished you could go.

the way your voice shakes isn’t something you can hide very well. over the phone it may pass off as a breath you took too long to breathe in, but in person, jungkook can hear the way that your voice gives way to the tears building in your eyes. “tell him i wish him the best of luck.”

“of course,” she answers. “oh! and i was able to take some pictures when we went into the city, you remember all those hole-in-the-wall spots, right? turns out they’re great for photography!”

not long after, you received an email notification. containing the pictures that seungyeon took and they were beautiful. the city's night lights make everything look so cool, like a movie.

you miss the city. you miss your friends.

“they’re gorgeous,” you tell her. scrolling through picture after picture. seungyeon rambles more about a new restaurant they found that she hopes to bring you (and jungkook) to when they have the chance. jungkook could see the way that your energy changed. you’re sad now. he can feel it. he knows you miss the city. the way you slowly scroll through the pictures, longing to be there instead of having to look at a picture of it through a screen.

the gears in his head turn. a plan has already been set into motion for a date between the two of you. yugyeom, taehyung, and eunwoo have all been trying to pitch in, give him ideas as to where to go, what to do. but jungkook thinks he knows exactly what to do. he wanted to do this right.

so that next morning, jungkook makes an important phone call after retrieving the phone number from namjoon.

“hello, jimin? this is jungkook…”

it’s already been a week and a half since you and jungkook agreed to an arranged marriage. you’ve only been able to see him five out of the twelve days. busy was an understatement. venus said there is too much to do and that even a year isn’t enough time to get everything done. it seems like an exaggeration, in your opinion. sure, a wedding was a lot of work, but did you really need to be there to confirm everything?

maybe venus will let you have a break one of these days. you don’t suspect it to be anytime soon. today, you were told to wake up early (six in the morning type of early) and get dressed. no one told you exactly why, but you listened and once you were ready, made your way to the briefing room.

when you push the big doors open, venus eyes you suspiciously. “princess, what are you doing here? we are not wedding planning today.”

you furrow your eyebrows. “then what are we doing?”

“you are going on a plane, something about a political appearance.” she winks. walking your way and weaving her arm through yours to lead you out.

“already? mother said appearances weren’t for another month!” you groaned.

“sorry, princess.” she laughs. “your bags are being packed as we speak, just go freshen up and we’ll meet jungkook and blue at the royal runway.”

“got it.” you assure her. ah, such a good kid. venus thinks. you don’t even question the random political appearance and just accept it at face value. she knows you’ll be surprised. you don’t even suspect a thing!

after maybe ten minutes, you walk with venus down to the runway and meet up with the boys. jungkook seems a little nervous. he’s doing that thing where he shifts his weight on his feet. “you okay?” you ask him.

“yeah! yeah— why wouldn’t i be?” jungkook answers. a smile that’s way too bright is displayed on his face. you suspect it’s just nerves for the speech he’s probably gonna have to do.

“if you’re nervous, just remember i’ll be right there next to you, yeah?” you assure him. gently taking his hand into yours.

jungkook is suddenly reminded why he shouldn’t be so damn nervous. because it’s you. he gets to be with you. to marry you. of course, he wants it to be perfect, that’s why he keeps going over everything in his head, making sure he’s got everything down. but it’s you. his best friend. when he looks at you, his nerves are at ease. that burning feeling in his chest dies down and his throat no longer feels like closing in on itself.

he lets out a breath. “ready?”

you nod, “where are we going anyway? venus never told me.” stepping up into the aircraft and taking your seat, jungkook and blue follow suit.

“i think we’re going to gotia, right, blue?” jungkook answers, turning his head to namjoon. his face directly telling him to go along with it.

“yes, your highness, gotia.” namjoon smiles brightly.

your eyebrows knit together. they’re acting weird again. “alright…” you say, suspicious of them already. “wake me up when we’re there.”

apparently, you were exhausted. you slept through the entire plane ride and it was a fifteen hour plane ride. namjoon said you did this the last time too. only waking up to eat and talk briefly before falling asleep again. it was a great time for namjoon and jungkook to gather blackmail photos for themselves as your sleeping faces are unbeatable. even when you land, you don’t wake up. jungkook isn’t gonna be the one to wake you up, so he gently lifts you up, bridal style. you don’t even bother opening your eyes, you just cuddle into his further. jungkook was always so warm, and so strong. he carries you into a car and lets you continue sleeping there, with your head on his shoulder.

after about twenty minutes of traffic, you finally decide to open your eyes. suddenly conscious of the way that jungkook’s hand is intertwined with yours. you don’t mind, his hand felt nice in yours. with sleep-riddled eyes, you look outside the window to see city infrastructure; which is not very common in gotia. gotia is a green mountain country, known particularly for their abundance of livestock and green grass.

you give them the benefit of doubt, perhaps you guys were just going somewhere in gotia that you’ve never been before. so you ask, “where exactly in gotia are we going?”

jungkook smiles. a very mischievous smile. “you’ll see when we get there, princess, don’t worry.”

hm, suspicious. this time you sit up, the seat belt digging into your belly when you push forward to lean against the front seat. “blue, where are we going?” you ask your trusty body guard.

“i am just following directions, your highness.” he tells you with a tight grin.

you were already suspicious during the plane ride, and now since neither jungkook or namjoon want to tell you where you’re going; you’re starting to put the pieces together. they’re gonna make you play that game where blue drops you and jungkook off in a random location and the two of you have to figure out where to go from there. and from your own experience: it sucks! so you scoff. “you guys are kidnapping me! hand me my phone, i am calling my father.” holding your hand out with your palm facing up. both of them laugh, jungkook places his hand on yours instead of giving you your phone.

“just wait a little longer, princess.” jungkook tells you as he intertwines your fingers together.

another few minutes and you’re still unsure of where you are, the dark tint of the windows is only adding onto the difficulty to spot the exact location. blue stops abruptly and turns to the two of you, “i was told to let you off here.” he says. the street is empty, but somewhat familiar. you weren’t able to get another look before jungkook covered your eyes.

“it’s a surprise, close your eyes.” he says. out of habit, you close your eyes, giving your trust to jungkook. jungkook steps out of the car first and then the door to the left of you opens. you keep your eyes closed and scoot out of the car with jungkooks’ help. he helps you out and onto the ground where he leads you somewhere onto the sidewalk.

“can i open my eyes now?” you ask, still squeezing your eyes shut.

“in a sec,” jungkook promises. bringing you a little further, you can hear him open a door and feel him lead you inside. “you can open your eyes now, we have to go up some stairs first.” he tells you.

when you open your eyes, you’re in a staircase with carpeted floors and metal railings. it looks fancy. the two of you make it up the stairs and you still can’t tell where the hell you are before jungkook tells you to close your eyes again. he opens another door and leads you out, leading you through a curtain you can feel. now you can hear some noise, quiet bickers of a crowd of people. it had to be hundreds of people out there.

you hear jungkook sit down beside you before he speaks up once more, “okay, open.”

scared, you only open your right eye just a peek. from the image, there’s an entire crowd below you. you’re in a theater of some sort. no, wait— it’s not just some theater, it’s the theater. the one that jimin’s performing at! that’s when your eyes shoot open. you’re back in the city, with jungkook by your side, about to watch your best friends’ performance.

“no way.” you spoke quietly, facing jungkook. he only smiles at you, holding your hand in his. “did you really do this for me?” the two of you sat in the highest box seat, jimin called them ‘the rich people seats.’ no one can really see you from here and you had one of the best views; it was perfect.

it was just so thoughtful. he must have noticed how homesick you were feeling, how much you yearned to see your friends again. this is the best gift you could have ever received. you’re not even sure what to say, and jungkook understands. he doesn’t expect any thank you’s or a major display of affection. he’s just happy that you’re happy.

when the lights dim and the music begins to play, you can’t help but feel the tears start to build in your eyes. “thank you, jungkook, so much.” you pull yourself close to him, laying your head on his shoulder.

“of course, princess.” he tells you, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in closer. “anything for you.”

with that, a tear falls and the curtains are drawn. revealing jimin standing in position with a beautiful dark forest background, performing his black swan routine. one of his longest and most physically intensive choreography he’s ever made. but it’s so damn gorgeous. he performs flawlessly and receives a standing ovation. you couldn’t have been any happier for him.

during the extended applause, jungkook stands up pulls you along, through another carpeted hallway. “wait— where are we going?” you ask him. his other hand holds a bouquet that literally came out of nowhere. “and where did you get those flowers?!”

“we’re gonna see jimin!” he tells you as he maneuvers through the never ending hallways. “oh, and i hid these— so you could give them to jimin.”

the two of you stop just before another door, you pull him back gently. “what? people are going to see us, jungkook, we aren’t allowed to be outside of the kingdom without proper guards.”

“no one will see us, i promise, jimin will meet us here in this room.” he tells you. the both of you peek through the door window, it was an empty practice room. the door on the other side of the room opens and it’s the cue that it’s safe to come in. “ready?” he asks, holding the flowers out for you to take.

you start crying again, it was immediate. jungkook wipes the tears away quickly, “don’t cry, princess.” he places a sweet kiss on your forehead before he hands you the bouquet and opens the door for you.

then there in the middle of the room stands your best friend. his arms open for a hug and you run into them. crying even harder when you realize that jimin is crying too, you can hear the way he sniffles. “why are you crying?! you did amazing!” you sob.

“because you’re here and everything went perfectly— it’s just overwhelming.” he admits, pulling back from the hug. the two of you laugh at your crying faces.

“congratulations, jimin.” you tell him, holding out the flowers for him.

“thank you, ___.” he accepts them with a smile, wiping his tears and turning his attention to jungkook, who stands at the door as a lookout. “jungkook—! oh crap, wait— should i call him majesty or highness or something?” jimin’s quickly tries to correct himself, asking you for advice.

you can only laugh and shake your head. “you can just call him jungkook.”

“i was called?” jungkook stands just behind you, with a smile on his face.

“yeah, man— come here.” jimin embraces him in a hug and jungkook doesn’t object it.

rubbing his back, jungkook congratulates him as well. “you’re incredibly talented, jimin.” he smiles when he pulls away. “it’s great to finally meet you in person.”

“thank—”

“jimin! it’s curtain call!” a lady barges into the practice room. she stands speechless for a second, her eyes darting straight to jungkook. “wait, is that prince jungkook?!” all of you are wide eyed. jimin’s mouth is silently telling you two to ‘run!’ before you knew it, she was pulling out her phone, trying to take a picture.

jimin is quick to block the camera as he shouts. “go! hurry!” the two of you rush out of the door you came from. you and jungkook bolt back to the car, blue is a little startled when you both jump in, breathless.

“everything alrig—“

“drive!” you demanded.

“shit— alright!” blue complies and steps on the gas, getting you out of the parking spot behind the theater and now onto the streets of the city.

now that everyone’s calmed down. you just realized that you, again, have no idea where you were going. “now where are we off to? it’s about eleven o’clock, right?”

“go with the plan, blue.” jungkook tells him. with the creepy wording, you begin to feel more suspicion around the two of them. what more surprises could there be?

the three of you spent another fifteen or so minutes of driving, and quite frankly you were tired of looking for little landmarks to pinpoint where you were. just as you were about to ask again, blue stops the car and looks at jungkook.

“okay, another surprise— close your eyes.” jungkook says. you can’t help but admit this is kind of fun. sure, you were annoying the hell out of the boys for the past fifteen minutes asking when you were gonna get there and where you were going. but they love you either way.

you keep your eyes squeezed shut as jungkook helps you out of the car and onto another sidewalk. “just a little further.” he says, leading you closer to whatever it was. just before he speaks again, you hear a little jingle. “okay, open.”

when your eyes finally adjust to the city lights, you recognize the building entirely too well. a place that you lived for five years. “is this— are we— no way!” you stutter, purely out of surprise. you were sure that you weren’t going to see this place for at least another decade.

you stand there speechless, just like how you did at jimin’s recital, for a good minute or so. jungkook has to wave his hand in front of your face to break you out of the trance.

“so, are you gonna show me your apartment or not?” jungkook grins, holding up your cutely decorated keychain. you squeal in excitement as he hands you the keys and you drag him into the building. it’s only been about a month and a half since you’ve last seen it, but it feels so nostalgic. it feels special. you suspect it’s because of the man whose hand you’re holding right now.

up the elevator and to the left, the apartment labeled with a silver plated 101 beckons you inside. soon enough, you’re pulling jungkook through the door and giving him a detailed tour of your shoe closet that is right there when you walk in.

as the two of you walk around, it’s cleaner than you remember. venus must have gotten people to tidy the place up after you left. just as you finish the very short tour of your apartment, you remember that you’d left some things from jimin and seungyeon in your room. “make yourself at home, my prince, i’ll just be in my room, collecting some things.” you excuse yourself and let jungkook look around some more.

if jungkook were honest, he would have told you that he got a bit of whiplash from your tour. he was turning every two seconds because you were speaking so fast. you were just so excited, and jungkook couldn’t have been happier. everything was going exactly as planned. the clock was ticking and jungkook did have a schedule to be on, but there was nothing wrong with a little snooping around your apartment. he wanted to see the place that you called home for the past five years.

your couch looks cozy, blankets on one side with decorative pillows to adorn the piece of furniture. your coffee table is cute too. you’ve got good taste. everything just seems so you. so when jungkook turns toward the bookcase you mentioned earlier into your tour. it was crowded with books, photo albums, cd’s, and records. a specific photo album catches his eyes, a cute light blue album. on the spine it was labeled: ‘jjk’ and from what jungkook knows, it must be his initials.

it’s when he opens it is when he confirms. the album is full of pictures of the two of you when you were kids, at every festival, from infant to teens. flipping through the pages, both of your smiles never changed. over the years; in both of your eyes, the certain glimmer of love shines so brightly. he puts it back with a soft smile after he’s flipped through all the pages. another book catches his eyes, your favorite fairy tale story: hansel and gretel. while everyone made fun of your choice of story, jungkook thought it was cool. you were all about safety and stranger danger, therefore making hansel and gretel a good story for kids to read (in your opinion.) you always read it when you needed to make an important decision, you called it a comfort read. it helped you get into the right mindset, think about all the pros and especially the cons of the decision you were about to make.

jungkook was only going to look at it and flip through the pages mindlessly. but when he pulls it out of its place in the bookshelf, two envelopes fall out from between the pages. squatting down, he picks up the fallen pieces of paper and coincidentally, sees his name on one of the letters. the other is blank, just a plain envelope. if it was addressed to him, then it means it was meant for him, therefore, he could read it… right?

jungkook,

if you are reading this, then that means i’ve already left for the city.

first, i wanted to apologize: for everything. for not telling you that i would leave sooner, for leaving you, for not telling you how i felt.

i was scared terrified that i would ruin our friendship if i ever told you, but now, since i don’t know if i’ll ever come back. i need to get this off my chest.

i’ve wanted to tell you this for the longest time.

jeon jungkook, i am in love with you.

i’m sorry this is how you had to find out, i’m sorry i didn’t have the courage to tell you in person.

but i love you, and i think i always will.

i hope you will be happy, whoever you marry. i hope they love you the way you deserve.

i hope to be at your wedding when i hear the news.

i’m sorry again.

sincerely,

___

easily, his eyes gloss over. you’ve loved him all along. he should have known. how could he have not known? thoughts run through his mind at hundreds of miles an hour; what would have happened if you did give this to him when you left. he probably would have gotten on the next plane out and searched the city to find you. probably would have done the exact same thing he did recently, beg you to give the two of you a chance. he shakes his head, sliding the letter back into its envelope. reading the other letters wouldn’t hurt, right?

of course not, he tells himself. he was always so nosy. the blank envelope held multiple pieces of paper. most of them were unfinished confessions to him, smudged black ink with multiple sentences crossed off. from what he can count, you wanted to confess to him at least five times now.

jungkook isn’t sure how he feels, he just knows how in love he is. this feeling of being surrounded by warmth, it’s enough to make a tear slip out. he can’t help but smile either. this is the boost of confidence he needed for tonight. he was so nervous before, that everything would go terribly wrong, but now he’s just so… content, so happy. he wanted to hug you, kiss you, everything. so he puts the envelopes back into the book, places it back into the shelf and makes his way to your room. your body hovers over your vanity, digging through your jewelry box.

“my princess.” jungkook pouts even though you can’t see him. coming from behind, he hugs you tightly and rests his head against yours. he tries to hide the way that his tears began to tear up. you look up from your tangle of necklaces, turning and taking him into your arms.

“are you crying?” the single tear that rolls down his cheek grabs your attention. your hand immediately coming up to wipe it away. “what’s wrong? do you hate my little apartment that much?” you let out a laugh.

he laughs too, shaking his head with a smile. “your little apartment is perfect— i love it actually, i love you.”

“aw,” you mumble against his chest. “i love you too, even though you’re acting super weird.” the two of you stand there, swaying in a hug for a little longer.

“am not.” he rests his chin atop your head.

“whatever you say.” you hum, pulling him towards your prized possession— your queen sized bed. the two of you plop on top, your fluffy comforter proving to be one of the best purchases you have ever made in your entire life. the two of you lay there in silence for a little bit, you almost fall asleep due to how warm jungkook is.

“as much as i would love to cuddle and take a nap in your bed, we’re on a tight schedule— c’mon.” jungkook says as he stands from your bed, pulling you up.

“a schedule?” you quirk an eyebrow. “what else are we gonna do in the city? our faces are plastered all over the internet, not to mention you’re the most-thirsted-after prince in the entire world.” you ask as he tugs you through the hallway and back into the living room.

“can you show me the roof?” jungkook asks. a sly smile on his face, while you’re still completely clueless.

“of course!” you squeal, excited to show him the amazing view of the city the roof of your building has. the two of you exit your apartment and you pull him up another two flights of stairs. “usually it’s kind of dirty, so don’t mind the mess.” you warn before opening the heavy door.

but when you push it open, the roof is…clean. it’s decorated too. it’s not the same as you last saw it. “huh— would you look at that?” jungkook steps out onto the roof first, with his hands on his hips as he looks back at you. “it looks pretty clean— and look! it’s set up for dinner...?” he acts surprised. his eyebrows raised as the two of you walk towards the dinner table. he pulls out the chair for you to sit down and you can’t help but let out a little laugh.

“so this was your plan.” you snort. dinner was in the shape of cups of ice cream. it was adorable. “ice cream for dinner?”

jungkook nods, handing you a tiny spoon for the ice cream. “your favorite.”

he did all of this for me. you realize the effort. he must have gone through meticulous planning and conspiring all of this in secret. he’s good. really good. god, you could kiss him.

the two of you sit there in the ambiance of the late city night, eating ice cream and having a small conversation. whenever the conversation paused, you could hear some music playing quietly in the back.

jungkook really did deserve the mantle of prince charming. king of romance. ruler of your heart.

“do you hear that?” jungkook asks, holding a hand out next to his ear. a familiar tune playing from wherever the music was. standing up, he extends his grasp for you to take. “a dance, princess?”

“you know i have two left feet.” you try to decline him, remembering how taehyung teased you about the way that you tripped over his feet when the two of you danced at your welcome home party. but jungkook doesn’t mind. he loves dancing with you, always has. he loves the way that your feet crash into his, how focused you get when you try not to get the moves wrong. he wanted to waltz with you everywhere, even if you stood on his feet the entire time.

“just follow me, alright?” he smiles. giving in, you take his hand and the two of you make your way to the middle of the rooftop. the night sky bearing witness to one of the most romantic things you’ve ever received. you feel his hand wrap around your waist, guiding you to step where he does.

“sparks, huh?” you smile, finally putting a title on the song playing. “kind of a sad song to dance to.” following his moves, dancing does seem a little easier with jungkook there.

“i thought it was perfect.” he states, leading you in for a twirl and then back into his arms. “it explains exactly how i feel about you.

“yeah?” you look up to him. even in this faint lighting, the abandoned flickering light bulbs that hang from strings all across the rooftop from an old tenant party, he still shines so bright.

he nods. the two of you silently sway for another few beats of the song. you lay your head against his chest, the beat of his heart is as calming as the music in the back. maybe if you just leave your eyes closed, this moment could last forever.

meanwhile, jungkook is trying to amp himself up to get these words out. another confession and an important question sits heavy on his tongue. he knows you feel the same, knows that you’ll accept, but he’s still so nervous. what if you don’t say yes and he’s left there with his knee against the rough concrete floor? what if this was just too cheesy for you and you hate it?

jungkook tells himself there’s only one way to find out.

“i— can i tell you something?” he asks. you lift your head away and look in his eyes, they greet you with that sweet eye smile that hasn’t changed in all the days you’ve known him.

“of course.” you pull yourself back, holding his hands.

“when you were gone...i was always afraid that i was romanticizing you— i had nothing but our memories and the small talks we would have sometimes through our parents,” he admits. “i was scared that i was in love with the idea of you, and not… you— you know?”

his confession makes you stop in your tracks, clear disbelief on your face as you drop his hands from your grasp. “what?! jungkook— why are you telling me this now?” you groan, folding your arms over your chest. you move to grab your phone to find a way to reverse this. “you know what— it’s not too late to cancel the engagement and call up the king of fenutar— i’m sure they’ll forgive you— yeah, let’s give them a call—”

he pulls you back gently, “princess, relax.” he laughs. “i was just getting started.”

your gaze softens, letting him finish his point as he restarts the sway. your feet move with his, slowly to the beat of the song playing in the back. it’s changed to something calmer, from what you could hear, it sounds like cigarettes after sex.

“this past month, ever since you came back—” he starts up once more. you attention falling back onto him instead of the music in the back. “i don’t know what it is, but i think i was wrong.” he says. you gently furrow your eyebrows. confused as to what he means. jungkook brings his hand up to your face, cupping your jaw before raising his thumb to soothe the creases in your forehead.

relaxing your muscles under his touch, he lowers his hands back down to hold your hands. he says the next words, staring straight into your eyes. “i love you, i always want to be around you, i wonder if you are alright— if you’re sad, because i want to be there for you, i want to take care of you.” your hands are pulled close to him, enough for him to be able to gently press a kiss against your knuckles. “i want to be by your side, against foes seen and unseen.”

“so—“ he lets go of your hand to pull a tiny white box out from his pocket and gets on one knee. “will you marry me?”

the rough ground against his clothed knee doesn’t matter anymore when he sees the sweetest smile on your face. everything is perfect.

you let out a little laugh, your smile going from ear to ear. “yes! of course— yes, yes!” tears collect in your eyes quickly. holding your arms out for him, jungkook comes up and collects your embrace. a tear slips out and he can hear your sniffle. gently, he wipes the tear away, and the two of you stare at each other just long enough. long enough to understand that this was the time.

you both lean forward and finally, let your lips connect. a kiss seals the fate of both hearts involved.

dreaming of this moment ever since you were fifteen has given you quite high expectations for it, but jungkook always exceeds expectations. even when you think he couldn’t be anymore perfect, he always has something up his sleeve. it shows in the way his kiss is gentle, but so passionate. transferring his love to you in the most efficient way possible.

jungkook is in dreamland almost. wonders if this is what being on drugs is like. pure euphoria. knows that this is what love stories are based off of. pure adoration. fears what he’ll do if he won’t be able to kiss you. the beginning of an addiction. your lips, they take him prisoner.

slowly, the two of you pull away and stare at each other like love sick puppies. jungkook holds your face in his hand as you lean into his grasp. the sound of confetti poppers startle you, flinching at the noise before looking to see what happened. through the rain of confetti, you can see all of them. seungyeon, jimin, blue, taehyung, eunwoo, and yugyeom. you didn’t think it could get any better. you were so happy.

“congratulations, your majesties.” blue moves forward after the confetti settles and hands the two of you a purple rose. the national flower of raemor and it was a common tradition to give engaged couples raemors for good luck all throughout their relationship and marriage. you thank blue with a hug and so does jungkook. jimin and seungyeon also congratulate you, seungyeon pulls out her camera and shows you the pictures she took while she was hidden with everyone behind the huge skylights.

eunwoo takes hold of your hand gently, raising the ring up for everyone to see. jimin and seungyeon also come close to get a better look, holding your arm still. “that rock is adorable, jungkook.” he pats him on the back. making slight fun of the stones size. everyone in the kingdom was used to huge gems, rings that would weigh down the finger of the wearer. you give eunwoo a light shove.

the ring was your style. it was actually really thoughtful too. there were conversations where you and jungkook would gossip about the adults sometimes, you knew everything back then. who was cheating on who, whose wives knew about the mistress, whose husbands knew about the paramour. then most of the time, they would solve it through money. buying bigger, more expensive material things to woo them, to make them forget the betrayals. you hated it. you specifically remember telling jungkook that you’d rather have a small ring and a great love, instead of a big ring and a loveless marriage.

so when you stare at the pretty gem laid on your ring finger, you realize it’s just more evidence that jungkook listens, and he takes your words into account. you couldn’t have been happier with the piece of jewelry. “i think it’s beautiful.” you pout in defense of the ring.

“it’s a red diamond.” namjoon tells them. “one of the rarest diamonds in the world.”

“how much is it?” yugyeom peers at the ring as well, he likes the way it sparkles even without the light.

“it doesn’t matter!” you groan, looking at jungkook for some help as four different people have your hand in their grasp.

“the diamond itself is roughly about five million— the rest of the ring, i can’t say.” namjoon shrugs nonchalantly.

jimin and seungyeon gasp at the same time, same pitch. both yugyeom and eunwoo’s eyes almost bulge out of their sockets. “sorry man— i thought it was a ruby.” eunwoo scratches the back of his head. jungkook only laughs at the conversation, not taking any of it to heart, along with taehyung (and chaeyoung!) who helped him customize the ring in the first place.

“five million?! are you serious?” you turn to him, about to scold him for wasting his money. just for an engagement ring too?!

he catches your hand before you can shove him like you did eunwoo. he brings it to his mouth, kissing your ring finger gently. before coming close to your ear, he whispers, “it’s worth way more than five million.”

“jungkook!”

taglist: @kookxin @fan-ati--c

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samwisethewitch · 4 years ago

Text

Keeping Consumerism out of Your Craft

Consumerism is a set of socioeconomic conditions and attitudes that encourage the continual acquisitions of goods and services. There is no “enough” in a consumerist society — members of the society are constantly pushed to buy new things, pay for new services, and keep up with the latest trends.

There are a few reasons consumerism is bad news. For one thing, it’s terrible for the environment — consumerist cultures usually have linear economies, where resources are extracted, consumed, then discarded, with no effort to replenish them. This is highly unsustainable, because at some point those limited resources are going to run out. Consumerism also has a human cost, as it often leads to the use of sweatshops, which violate basic labor laws. In many sweatshops, workers are not paid a livable wage, children are employed as workers, and working conditions are unsafe. Companies in countries like the United States get around labor laws by outsourcing labor to other (poorer) places. Consumerism also contributes to classism, as the acquisition of expensive items is often treated as a status symbol.

Consumerism is present in nearly every aspect of Western culture, and this includes spirituality and witchcraft. There are multiple “Beginner Witch Kits” for sale from Amazon and other online retailers which include candles, crystals, and incense — which is great, as long as that’s all stuff you’ll actually use in your practice. (I mean, do you really need twelve different varieties of incense?) Witchy authors and bloggers often treat magic like a matching game, where every problem requires a very specific herb or crystal. YouTube is full of “witch hauls,” videos solely dedicated to showing off new purchases. All of this contributes to a commercialized witchy aesthetic, which can only be achieved by buying the tools of the trade.

I get it. Shopping is fun, especially when you’re still learning about magic and magical items. It’s exciting to search for the perfect crystal or incense blend, especially if you have a local metaphysical store where you can shop in person. But owning the right stuff doesn’t make you a witch. All you need to practice magic is your will — everything else is optional.

I’m not saying every witch should be a hardcore minimalist, or that you can never buy new things. What I am saying is that all of us, witches or not, need to be more mindful of how we spend our money and the impact of our purchases on the world around us.

How to Avoid Consumerism

If you’re considering buying something, ask yourself if you’ll really get use out of it. For example, I don’t use a lot of tools in my practice because I prefer to work with my hands, so it wouldn’t make sense for me to buy an expensive wand or ritual knife. Don’t feel like you have to buy something just because another witch uses it — if you don’t think you’ll use it, don’t buy it.

Don’t buy multiples of the same tool. Instead of buying multiple different colored altar cloths for different times of year, buy one white altar cloth you can use year-round. Instead of buying multiple tarot decks, find one or two you really enjoy working with. You get the idea. (Obviously, there will be some items you need more than one of, like spell candles. This rule applies more to tools that can be reused.)

Replace things as they run out instead of buying them before you need them. Buying things in bulk can lead to unnecessary waste and drawers full of unused magical supplies. Buy things you know you’ll really use, and only buy one or two at a time. Use up the items you have before you buy more.

Invest in items that have multiple uses. For example, most kitchen spices can also be used in spells — search your spice cabinet before ordering special ingredients online. There are some items that have multiple magical uses, like rosemary and salt. Buy a couple of these multitaskers instead of a large collection of herbs with very specific uses.

Use the “two week” rule. This is something I do to keep myself from making impulse purchases. If I think I want to buy something online, I wait two weeks before I order it. If I still want it after two weeks, I take that as a sign that I’ll actually get some use from it.

Go “shopping” in your backyard. Familiarize yourself with the plants, animals, and minerals that are native to your area and go foraging for spell supplies instead of buying them. Items you can probably find near your home that could be used in ritual include leaves and flowers, pine cones, seed pods, tree branches, rocks, and naturally shed feathers. Just make sure you never harvest enough of a plant to hurt it, and make sure you properly disinfect any animal products you pick up.

If you can, make it yourself. Not only does making your own magic items save money, it also creates a much stronger personal link between you and that item. You can grow your own magical herbs in a garden or in indoor pots. Many common magical tools, like brooms and wands, are easy to make at home with some basic craft skills. Making your own items also means you can customize them, tailoring them to your own craft.

If you can’t make it yourself, but it used. There are some items you can’t reasonably make yourself, like incense burners, cauldrons, and books on the craft. But you can find most of these items used, either in thrift stores or online on websites like Ebay and Depop. Buying used almost always ends up being cheaper than buying new, and because you’re buying items already in circulation you aren’t contributing to a linear economy. Thrifting is also a great way to find unique items that won’t be like what anyone else has on their altar.

If you can’t find it used, support a small business. Sometimes, you can’t make what you need or find it in a thrift store. In that case, buying from a small business is preferable to buying from a big retailer like Amazon. When you support a small business, you’re supporting an individual rather than contributing to some CEO’s massive yearly bonus. A lot of small business owners make their items themselves, which avoids sweatshop labor. Pretty much everything I buy new for my craft comes from Etsy sellers — there are a LOT of witches on Etsy, so with a little digging you can easily find exactly what you’re looking for!

Don’t buy crystals. I know, I know. Thanks to social media, large crystal collections have become synonymous with witchcraft. But the crystal trade is highly unethical, with unsustainable mining techniques, dangerous working conditions, and child labor. Because of a lack of regulations, it’s virtually impossible to find crystals that are truly ethically sourced. Most sellers don’t know where their crystals come from and can’t guarantee that no workers were harmed in their extraction. No stone is worth the health and safety of other human beings, no matter how pretty.

Avoiding consumerism in your witchcraft means being less reliant on tools and set dressing. This will allow you to rely on your own energy and will, which will lead to a deeper and more meaningful spiritual practice.

Resources:

Revolutionary Witchcraft by Sarah Lyons

Simply Living Well by Julia Watkins

“11 Facts About Sweatshops” on dosomething.org

“Child labour in the fashion supply chain” from The Guardian

“Bangladesh factory collapse toll passes 1,000” from BBC News

“Are crystals the new blood diamonds?” from The Guardian

“Dark crystals: the brutal reality behind a booming wellness craze” from The Guardian

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phoenixyfriend · 4 years ago

Note

#9 “Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me.” with Obi-Wan & Jango & Satine? (... or Obi-Wan/Jango/Satine, I'm not picky)

Hurt/Comfort Dialogue Prompts

Oh, I'm going to make this deeply stupid and AU because I got struck by a plot bunny and I'm taking it out on a prompt.

Satine hates the man named Jango Fett.

They've met before, once or twice. He'd known her father, before the latter's assassination. She'd met Jango when she was a child, before he'd lost his people at Galidraan, before she'd lost her sister to a terrorist group and her father to a blaster shot. She'd thought him gruff but kind, at the time, and very sad.

Now, she just wants him to trip on a pipe and brain himself on one of the many rusted, broken beams around them. She won't strangle him herself, won't turn her back on her oaths and commit violence, but she's not too proud to hope for an accident.

"Pick up the pace, princess."

"I am a Duchess," she snaps, lifting her skirts to step delicately over something that might have been machinery at one point.

The only light they have is from his helmet, and the only reason she hasn't fallen from the fabric catching on some matter or other is that he has a sense for when she gets caught.

He'd suggested that she pull the skirts up to gird her loins, and then found that the numerous layers made it impossible. He'd offered to cut the skirt down to something more manageable, without depriving her of the coverage she still needed in the cold of these darks, dank ruins. He'd then found that the vibroblade did nothing against the skirts.

(She was a pacifist, not stupid. Of course her clothing was reinforced.)

"I don't care," he says back through grit teeth. She's not sure why he hasn't just left her for dead, but she's not going to complain. Much. "Just move."

They've been making their way through the ruins for hours. They still don't know how they got here. They have no way to find out.

They just head up, and hope it gets them somewhere.

(Signs litter the walls, all in a script unfamiliar to them. Archaic, or simply foreign, they don't know.)

"Wait."

She freezes.

Fett moves behind her, light shifting with the noise of his beskar, and then he says, "I'm going to turn out the light for a second. Give us a minute to adjust to the dark after I do. I think I saw something glowing, but I can't tell with the flash on."

She nods, sure that he can see it, and they are engulfed in the dark again.

It's not for long, because the glow that Fett described is real. Faint, far off down the hallway and a pale blue that winks in and out in multiple spots at once, but there.

"We'll need the light to make it there without you getting rust sickness," Fett mutters. He flicks the headlight back on. "Might get some kinda hint out of it, whatever it is."

"You'd risk it?"

"Don't have any other choice," Fett tells her. "Move out, Princess."

----

They reach the blue glow, entering a large, cavernous atrium, just as dark as the rest of the ruins so far, but much less cramped than the previous hallways.

It is mostly floating motes of something, and the something in question makes Satine's skin crawl. She has no idea what it is. She doesn't think Fett does either, but he's a little busy trying to get a scan of the room around them. Satine can just barely see the floor from the blue light, and she steps closer carefully. Part of her screams about deep sea fish and wild space ancients, creatures that use light to hunt, but they've had nothing else yet. No hints.

This place feels ancient. Perhaps the spirits that linger are even older.

"Kryze!"

"I'm fine," she calls back, deliberately refusing to understand the man's worry. She just... reaches out.

And one of the blue lights comes to her.

Fett swears and comes closer, but Satine pulls her hands to her chest, cradling the little light to herself. It's larger than she'd expected, perhaps the size of a Chandrila plum. It's warm, too.

"You're going to get yourself killed," Fett snaps.

"It's friendly," she says. "I think."

"You think," Fett hisses, the noise crackling through the vocoder. He puts a hand on her shoulder. "Listen--"

The lights coalesce. They are, for the moment, blinding, and Satine flinches away.

Fett has a blaster out before Satine can even open her eyes again. She knows the noise better than she'd like. She can identify which blaster it is by the click of the safety alone.

Any Mandalorian her age can.

"Oh dear," an unfamiliar voice says. "I'm afraid that--well, yes, Mando, hello there. I'm afraid that the blaster won't do much to me. I'm already long dead, you understand."

When Satine manages to blink the spots out of her vision, it's to see a glowing, slightly blue-tinged human figure in clothing that is distinctly Jedi, if very... very outdated.

The man--she thinks it's a man, beards usually indicate such--smiles and waves at her. "I apologize for the light show. It's been quite some time since I've had reason to take a solid form."

"I can imagine," Satine says, her voice weak even to her own ears. The man isn't much older than her, or at least wasn't when he... died? Or perhaps he was elderly when he died, and just rolled his age back as this spirit for some reason.

He smiles kindly, and then looks past her shoulder to Fett. He rolls his eyes, and smirks, and says, "Su cuy'gar, Mand'alor."

"I am not Mand'alor," Fett growls out. "I don't hold that title anymore."

"You do in spirit," the figure claims. "None other can say the same, not yet."

Before Fett can argue further, the man smiles pleasantly, and says, "I don't suppose you could remove yourselves from my shrine? Just a few steps back, thank you."

Satine looks down. She notices the raised platform and carved sigils and the stone column she hadn't seen in the earlier darkness, and flushes. She steps back and down, and Fett does the same.

"Now," the figure says. "As I was saying--"

"What are you?" Fett demands. "Ghost of a Jedi?"

"Something like that," the figure allows. "I was not just a Jedi, but... yes, I'm something you could call a ghost. I'd prefer simply a spirit."

"Like the ka'ra," Satine mutters, and grunts in disagreement.

"Those, Duchess, are only Mandalorians."

"Then I suppose it is fitting that I am both," the spirit says, and his form shifts.

Armor. It does not cover all of him--his pelvis and head are distinctly bare--but the shapes are distinctly Mandalorian. The colors aren't quite exact, with the blue glow he carries about him, but she's fairly certain she's seeing blue, green, and black. Reliability, duty, and justice.

Fitting, for a Jedi. The symbol for the Order is on his pauldron, even, and the hilt of his saber hangs easy at his side.

The gasp that comes through Fett's vocoder is harsh. She can't imagine he likes this.

"You--" he cuts himself off, takes a breath audible even past the helmet, and tries again. "There is no way you are Tarre Vizsla."

"No, I'm afraid not."

"So you must be Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The man smiles and tucks his hands into his sleeves, the swinging of the fabric allowing them the glimpse of vambraces beneath. He ducks his head in a shallow nod. "I am indeed."

Satine feels how empty of blood her own face is. She can't imagine Fett is doing much better.

"This is the Kar'ta-yaim be talyc rang," Fett mutters, horrified in a way that Satine feels her own self echoing. "You..."

"Well, we certainly never called it that," Kenobi says, head tilting faintly. "But I imagine that after the siege... Yes, Temple of Bloodied Ash would certainly reflect our final days."

It was one of the few stories that didn't pit Jedi and Mandalorians against each other, in the histories.

It had been the first attempt to coexist, the warriors of the saber and the warriors of iron. None managed to wed the two philosophies the way Kenobi had, but that hadn't mattered. They'd lived together, in peace. The reports had been clear enough, that there hadn't been weapons storage. There hadn't even been real defensive measures, barring the force fields. The Jedi had refused to let war reach this building, even whilst the Sith still raged across the galaxy. The other temples could handle the atrocities afar. The children, the elderly, the infirm, they were all to find a home here. The only weaponry were the sabers and whatever metals the Mando'ade carried in their armor.

Just a place of peace, a home to research, to children, to hospitals, all slaughtered to the last man, and set ablaze after. Nobody had ever tried such an attempt at peace between Mandalore and Jedi since. The location has been lost for longer than anyone remembers, but...

"Why are we here?" Satine asks.

"I wonder," Kenobi says, seeming far too pleased for the revelations of the last minute. He strokes at his beard, and then turns and sweeps an arm across the air. As he does, a whirring noise surrounds them, stuttered and heavy, but growing in power. Bit by bit, the sections of the wall that he'd gestured at begin to glow.

There are lights set into the wall like circuitry, warm and bright. The generators, which much be centuries old, at the least, continue to run.

"They draw energy from the river in the mountain," Kenobi says, before either of them thinks to ask. "Come along, my dears."

Satine hesitates. So does Fett.

Kenobi turns, presumably noting that their footsteps aren't following him. He smiles, and the corners of his eyes crinkle.

Satine can't remember how old he supposedly was, at his death. His eyes are much older, but...

"I assure you, it's perfectly safe," he tells them. "The building won't hurt you."

"The building?" Fett asks, sounding perhaps a little more dubious than the situation warranted. They were already talking to a figure of legend.

"Yes, the building," Kenobi repeats, indulgent in a way that Satine would have found irritating if aimed at her, but rather approved of like this. "The walls are already straightening out, I feel. And the droids are going to be clearing out the debris soon enough. The rust will be a little difficult to manage, of course, but..."

"What do you mean the walls are going to straighten out?" Satine asks. "And how... this place has been dead for centuries, hasn't it? How did you wake it?"

"Duchess Kryze, I didn't wake the Temple," Kenobi tells her. She doesn't know how he got her name. "You did."

She doesn't know what to say in response. She stays quiet, and waits for him to elaborate.

"Is it because she woke you up?" Fett asks, clearly unwilling to play a waiting game. "You're a... guardian? The keyholder to the power?"

"Mand'alor," Kenobi says, with a smile playing on his lips behind the carefully-groomed beard, "I am the Temple."

What.

He smiles and starts walking backwards, gliding in a way that makes it clear he doesn't need to step, really, because his feet don't stay planted where he puts them. They have to follow, now, or risk losing him. "My consciousness, my very self, is woven into every bit of this building. I have no flesh, not anymore, but while my sense of self stays coherent in the Force... the Temple is my body."

"How?" Satine demands, hurrying to keep up. She tries to ignore the way the flagstones shift and settle ahead of her, still and level by the time she steps forward. She tries to ignore the grinding of metal, as it's pulled into the walls like it's soup instead of stone. She tries to ignore the creaking of the foundation about them, and stays focused on the pleasant smile of one of the only two Mandalorian Jedi in history that maintained the balance.

"Do your history books carry the name of my apprentice?" Kenobi asks.

"Skywalker," Fett says immediately. "And... Tano, I think, before she changed it. She escaped, didn't she?"

"Yes, she was away at the time," Kenobi says, voice distant for but a moment. Somewhere far off among the tunnels, there is a mighty crash. "I'd fought until I couldn't any more. My armor, what I had of it, protected me from the flames. I'd worn a helmet during the siege, and it filtered the smoke, even as I lay dying from other wounds... between that and the Force, I lasted long enough that Anakin found me. The others had all died of smoke inhalation, if they hadn't succumbed to their injuries or the flames themselves by that point."

"The fire didn't reach you?" Fett questions.

"Mm, no, the alcove I was in was all stone, and there wasn't anything flammable enough nearby to reach," Kenobi says, sounding distant again. "In any case, Anakin found me. He was... distraught. Desperate. Not entirely sane, I think, but with what he walked into, I can't find it in myself to fault him."

"Master Kenobi," Satine finds herself saying. "What did he do?"

Kenobi's smile is sad. She'd call it resigned, really. He's lived--sort of--with this situation for centuries now. It makes sense. "He took my mind, my soul in the Force, and 'saved' it in a way that would leave me tied to the world past my death. It was ingenious, but... I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I don't think Anakin realized what he was doing until long after he'd already succeeded at the impossible."

"He cursed you," Fett declares.

Kenobi shrugs. "I think he expected the temple to be cleaned and re-inhabited again soon enough. It wasn't, as you can see. The generators have been gathering power for centuries, but the fire destroyed most of them, and we didn't have anything in reserve with how much we poured into the shields during the battle. I couldn't fix the ruins, and with the horrors that had occurred, nobody was coming back. Anakin said he would, he promised, but... he disappeared. He visited, and he spoke with me, but a few years in he was simply... lost. I had a connection to his ship's signal, and it winked out in the blink of an eye, and never came back."

Oh. Terrifying.

"For all that I am the Temple, now, there are still secrets here that I don't yet understand," Kenobi tells them. "Your arrival, for one thing. The sediment carried up the mountain has slowly buried the temple over the centuries. There isn't a way in, save for two tunnels leading to the river, both of which I know are untouched."

"We just woke up here," Satine admits.

"Yes," Kenobi says. "You did. And part of me knows why."

"...part?" Fett asks.

It's a fair question to ask of a man who happens to have a brain that is also an entire building, somehow.

"Areas are cut off from my awareness," Kenobi admits freely. "Cave-ins and the like, mostly. There are one or two that I think I cut deliberately, due to what lay within."

Also terrifying, thank you.

"But I do believe I know what happened," he says, with that same damnably soft smile. "You two are the leaders of your people, yes? Tradition on one side, and peace on the other."

Satine shares a glance with Fett, and then turns to Kenobi and nods.

"Then I do believe it's simply the right time," he tells them. "You'll need to work together."

"I don't think so," Satine immediately denies.

"The Force works in mysterious ways," Kenobi tells her. "And if it brought you here--and you couldn't have arrived otherwise, I promise you that--then it was for a reason. Two leaders, the same people, with ideologies that I do believe are possible to bring together into, if not mixing, then at least coexistence."

"Impossible," Fett says. "The New Mandalorians are cowards, Kenobi. To share a culture with them--"

"Is as unlikely as Jedi and the old Mandalorians?" Kenobi asks, smiling so very politely that Satine wonders at how they aren't frozen stiff at the sight of it.

The sigil of the Order gleams mockingly from his pauldron.

Kenobi huffs out a breath, just a shadow of a laugh the slightest duck of his head, and then he turns and waves open a door.

Beyond him, sitting clean and pretty and entirely free of dust on its ancient stand, rests the Darksaber.

Satine stares.

She's sure Fett does, too.

"That can't be real," she says, her mouth moving before she can control it. "The Darksaber is lost, but it's popped up in history too recently to have been here since the fires."

"I saw it in Tor Vizsla's hands less than a years ago," Fett confirms. The vocoder cuts emotion from his voice, but not enough. "This place has been locked tight for centuries. The saber can't be here."

"The same could be said of the two of you," Kenobi points out.

It's true.

Satine steps forward, when it becomes clear that Fett won't. She picks up the weapon, holds it like the antique it is, square and unwieldy, but so very, very old that she cannot deny its importance. Weapon or not, it is her people's history.

She lights it.

The blade burns black.

"Turn it off," Fett rasps, and she does.

Satine looks back at him, and then to Kenobi. She turns fully, and steps forward, and holds it out to Fett.

He looks at her, uncomprehending.

"If you'd like to check for yourself," she says, and her voice is too quiet, but she can't help it. Something is happening, something heavy and broken, and she can't ignore the pressure of the future in this moment.

Fett takes the saber. He looks at it in his hands, and she thinks he is shaking.

"Your people need you, Mand'alor," Kenobi says, and there is no room for question. "They also need the Duchess."

"Why you?" Fett asks, voice strained and shattered in a way Satine can't even begin to pick apart.

"It was either me or Tarre, really," Kenobi says, with an idle shrug unfitting of the situation. "And I'm a little more... accessible, shall we say, to those who aren't sensitive to the Force."

Kenobi steps forward and rests an immaterial hand on Fett's shoulder.

"I already failed my people once," Fett says, barely audible.

"And now you shall save them," Kenobi says. His voice is firm. It is as if there is no question, to him, about whether or not Fett will succeed. "You won't be alone, either."

Satine shifts her weight, refusing to meet Kenobi's eyes. Her hands fist in her dress, and her mind races.

"What do you need of me?" Fett manages.

"...Mand'alor?"

"What do you need of me, Master Kenobi?"

Satine looks up.

Fett... Fett removes his helmet, and looks at Kenobi with an expression that is more desperation than deference.

"To cooperate with those who would follow a different creed," Kenobi says, so low it's practically a murmur. His hand, still intangible, reaches out to cup Fett's jaw. Fett leans into it. "To protect those who cannot do so for themselves. Our people are warriors, Mand'alor, but to refuse violence for violence's sake, after the wars that have killed our home and rendered it little more than glass, that is its own bravery."

"Master--"

"Listen to me," Kenobi says, and Fett falls silent. "You will need to protect them. The Duchess may have the funds and the support to bring forth education, agriculture, childcare, and so on, but there are many who would take advantage of that peace. She provides the home for tradespeople, but you are the shield that keeps them safe."

It could be a balance, Satine tries to tell herself. Maybe.

Kenobi seems so certain of it, and Satine may hate violence, but she is far from unaware of the pirates and warlords that nip at their borders.

"The foundlings need homes," Kenobi continues. "The stories need to be told. The culture is fading, Mand'alor. Bring it back."

His eyes flick to Satine, and she looks away.

(Her pressure was only ever on violence. Her advisors had pressed at the erasure of the rest, but if it meant children grew up without the worry of their parents dying in pointless battle, then wasn't it worth bending?)

(Couldn't she look the other way as they tightened restrictions on even symbolic vambraces, if it meant few too-small bodies in the streets?)

(Her planet was a wasteland. What did culture mean in the face of so many dead?)

(She knows Fett doesn't see it that way, but she is the only governing New Mandalorian with any blood on their hands. She knows the weight of violence, of lives taken by her actions.)

(She knows it, and she rejects it knowingly.)

Fett breathes harshly, and Satine closes her eyes.

"I agree to try," she says. "If we can get out of these ruins and back to our people... I will try. I cannot speak for my people on this, but to instate the old Mandalorians as a planetary guard... it may be doable."

"Little steps, my dear," Kenobi says. He looks down at Fett, who's... not well, it seems. "The Mand'alor needs some help, I think. I'm no trained mind healer, but I imagine I can help. More than most, maybe. There are few who know what it is to be a sole survivor."

He smirks, just a little, at the joke that he is not, in fact, a man who survived.

It's not very funny.

"I'll stay," Fett says. "I'll... I'll learn. Master Kenobi, you... Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me."

"As a student?" Kenobi asks, catching on to just the same thing as Satine has. "Not in the Force, surely, but... you truly wish to stay?"

"There are none left alive that I would trust to show me the way," Fett says. Beseeching, he reaches for Kenobi, and his hands pass through. There's a pain in him that Satine can't quite comprehend, and Fett falls to his knees. "Please."

"You need only ask," Kenobi says. "The Duchess will look after our people until the King takes his throne, and then you will rule together."

They'll have to, Satine tells herself, and steps forward. She puts a hand on Fett's shoulder, and pulls him to his feet.

"Where do we begin?" she asks.

#satine kryze #obi wan kenobi #jango fett #ghosts #massacre mention #is this vaguely inspired by GLaDOS and Castle Heterodyne? ...yes #but less murdery overall #star wars #the clone wars #Phoenix Answers Memes #supernatural au #kinda #one shot #death mention #child death mention #horror au #also kinda

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mviswidow · 4 years ago

Text

i can’t feel it

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 2,727

Warnings: wandavision spoilers!! i recommend catching up before reading this if you haven’t already. also, i cursed like, twice.

A/N: this was literally edited while i was falling asleep, so if there are mistakes, that’s why. Please pm or reply, telling me and I'll go back and fix it.

Prompt: hi!! what about a wanda x reader where r has similar powers to wanda & enters the hex to talk her into letting everyone in westview go & coming home with r? :)

Summary: R has to convince Wanda to let everyone in Westview go.

part two

“Are you sure you remember everything?” Jimmy asked you, concerned about how fast you were being thrown into everything.

You nodded confidently, you were nervous, kind of scared, but ready. After getting a call from Monica, you knew whatever was going on was important, and you made your way to the outskirts of Westview, New Jersey before she even had to tell you what was going on. “Wanda’s robot boyfriend-”

“-Synthezoid,” Jimmy corrected before seeing the look Darcy gave him. “Sorry.”

“Synthezoid boyfriend died because Thanos pulled the mind stone out of his head, she had to watch him die twice and freaked out, stole his body from S.W.O.R.D., and created a fake sitcom reality where she goes through decades because she’s a grieving 30 year old with an odd obsession with tv shows. Oh, and she’s mind controlling a whole town and I’m supposed to convince her to let them go. Almost forgot that one,” You said, pointedly making the lighthearted joke because of Jimmy’s evident stress, chuckling softly.

“Just be careful,” Darcy cut in, “Wanda doesn’t seem to want to leave and we won't know if things go wrong because she chooses what goes in her show and what doesn’t.”

“I’ll be just fine. Let’s go,” You sighed and the four of you started to head out the door, but Hayward pulled you aside before you could leave the building. You told them to go ahead and you would meet them by the car.

“Ms (Y/L/N),” Hayward nodded, and you nodded back to him. Warm greeting, you thought. “Director Hayward.”

“If you cannot get Wanda to submit and release the people of Westview, I want you to fight her. Do whatever you have to, I need the Vision’s body back in S.W.O.R.D. custody and the citizens of Westview to be freed.”

Your brow furrowed, “My assignment is to try to persuade Ms Maximoff. I’m not fighting her, Sir. She’s grieving. I just got here and I can tell. She seems like she just wants to be happy.”

He scoffed at you and shook his head, “Her happiness means nothing to me. Ms Maximoff has thousands held captive. So, I think you’re misunderstanding me, Ms (Y/L/N), I am ordering you to kill her if needed. We need her to bring that barrier down.”

“I don’t take orders from you, Director. I’m just here to try to work things out, not to fight anyone,” You retorted.

“So you would let her continue to mind control the people of Westview? To continue controlling a sentient weapon made of vibranium?” Hayward asked pointedly, but you weren’t having any of it.

“With all due respect, you seem awfully concerned about the Vision when there are ‘thousands held captive’. And regardless, do you have any idea what would happen if Wanda died while all those people were in there?” You paused for a moment, giving him a chance to answer. “I didn’t think so.”

And with that, you turned on your heel and huffed, quickly making your way to the car that was waiting to take you to the border of the hex, Darcy, Monica, and Jimmy sat inside of it.

“What did he want?” Jimmy asked.

You sighed and started playing with the sleeve of your long sleeved shirt, “He wants me to kill Wanda if she doesn’t stop mind controlling Westview.”

Darcy’s eyes widened, “Sorry, what?”

You looked up at her and saw her concerned expression, “Oh, I’m not going to.” You said quickly, not wanting any of them to get the wrong impression. “He isn’t in charge of me. Wanda doesn’t seem to want to hurt anyone in Westview, and besides, it would be foolish when we know nothing about what would happen inside the barrier if she died.”

Darcy nodded as Monica parked the car and the four of you got out of it.

“Thank you for doing this, (Y/n),” Monica smiled softly as you reached the hex.

“You know I’m always willing to help you when you need me,” You smiled and looked towards the barrier.

You knew the trio was watching you intently, with the other agents standing outside, waiting for you to go in, but your heart was racing and you had to take a few deep breaths before bringing your hands up, moving your fingers in a way that they recognized to be similar to the way Wanda did, and you stepped closer, the blue light from your powers flowing forward and hitting the hex.

It kind of looked like when food coloring is dropped into water, and the color spreads, except your powers were the food coloring, and the hex was the water.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you pulled your hands further apart and groaned as you slowly but surely pulled apart a section of the barrier that was big enough for you to fit through before walking right through it.

As soon as you were through, you looked behind you and saw nothing. None of the S.W.O.R.D. tents or buildings or cars, Darcy, Monica, Jimmy, and all the other agents who were outside were gone. It was just a plain old normal street.

You looked down at your clothes and chuckled, the 80s. If Wanda had anything, it was a fashion sense, whether it was conscious of it or not. You were dressed in a fitted white shirt, and an electric blue skirt and cropped blazer set. Was it a bit tacky? Sort of, but you couldn’t help but love it. However, you were very pleased that the white boots you were wearing didn’t have too high of a heel.

You sighed and knew you needed to go quickly. Vision had just left for work and this was the best chance you were going to get to talk to Wanda. You doubted she would let you convince her to let everyone go if Vision was there with her.

You extended your arms to the ground below you and used your powers to lift yourself up into the air, waiting until you saw the house you recognized to be Wanda’s to fly down to a street that had no one on it that was close enough for you to arrive quickly.

Your hand trembled as it reached up to knock on the door, but before you could overthink any longer, you tapped your knuckles against the wood three times and waited, playing with your fingers.

Wanda opened the door and smiled, though she wore a confused expression on her face, “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met before, or have we?”

You offered a smile and shook your head, “We haven’t, I’m (Y/n).”

“Wanda,” she said, with a lilt in her voice.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something, if you aren’t busy? It’s important.”

She gazed at you curiously before nodding and stepping out of the way, “Come inside.”

You walked inside her home, the feeling you got was weird. You’d seen it on Darcy’s tv, but it was different to actually be in the room.

Wanda noticed the way your eyes flicked around her living room, looking at the couch, the photos hanging, the random decorations, and the few toys on the floor.

“Do you want something to drink?” She asked politely, before noticing you staring at one of the toys Tommy happened to favor. “My boys are upstairs.”

You smiled politely and shook your head, “I’m alright, Wanda, thank you. I need to talk to you about what you’re doing.” You started, not very strongly, but it wasn’t like you could just blurt out what you needed to say. This was a difficult situation.

“I’m sorry?” She tilted her head, not catching on, but she looked worried.

“I know about your powers, you’re controlling everyone in Westview, and Vision is starting to-”

“Leave,” Wanda extended her hands and tried to levitate you out, but you put your hands at your side and grounded yourself, blue mist surrounding your feet.

Wanda faltered and her eyes widened at the sight of your powers, “Who are you?”

“I’m Y/n Y/l/n. I was sent here to convince you to let everyone in Westview go. I promise I don’t mean you any harm, I just want things to go smoothly so no one else gets hurt.”

Wanda shook her head, “I can't just let go of this, I finally have everything I want.”

You sighed and nodded, “I understand how you feel, I have lost family too, but the people of Westview, they have their own lives and families. They’re in pain, Wanda. I can feel it. Can’t you?”

Her eyes snapped up and met yours, the tears in her eyes threatening to spill. She shook her head, “I can’t feel it.”

You stood for a moment, the two of you just looking at each other, before taking a breath and letting the blue mist that was keeping you grounded fade away. Cautiously, you walked closer to her and let out a breath of relief when she wasn’t backing away or looking like she was going to attack you.

“You can look into minds, can’t you?” You asked, knowing that showing her the pain she was unknowingly putting these people through was the best chance you had at convincing her to do the right thing.

Wanda nodded without saying anything and understood what you wanted her to do. Shakily, she lifted her hand and bit her lip, she looked scared.

You blinked a few times, thought, fuck it, and gently held her wrist, bringing her hand up to your temple. You watched her eyes glow red before closing your eyes, allowing Wanda to see inside your mind.

All Wanda could feel was an unbearable amount of agony, she heard thousands of voices overlapping each other, panicked screams and crying. It was too much. Everyone sounded so scared. She did this.

The feeling was excruciating and let out a strangled sob, which made your eyes open on instinct.

Tears were flowing freely down Wanda’s face and she slowly sank to her knees, trying to catch her breath.

You got down on the floor in front of her and held one of her hands, using your other one to tilt her chin up towards you, “It’s okay, Wanda.”

She shook her head furiously and squeezed your hand, leaning forward, into you.

You wrapped your arm around her and let her cry into your shoulder. Your stomach felt twisted and you couldn’t believe Hayward had asked you to kill Wanda if she refused to comply, not when she was reacting like this.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen like this,” She managed to get out between deep breaths and whimpers. “I just - I wanted Vis back.”

Tears pricked at your own eyes, but you ignored them, knowing that you had to focus on Wanda, “I know, it’s okay. Everything will be okay. You just have to put down the barriers around Westview and stop mind controlling everyone.”

Wanda’s breath hitched, but she nodded, “Okay.”

“Okay?” You asked. Surprised at how you managed to get her to listen to you.

“I’ll do it now,” She sniffled and wiped her tears, standing up slowly.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Well, hold on, don’t you want to see Vision first? Or call the twins down here?”

Her lips pressed together as another tear slipped down her cheek and she shook her head, “I don’t know what I’ll do if I allow myself to see them again,” She said quietly.

You nodded and stepped back, letting her go about this whatever way she wanted.

You watched her work, even though the two of you were inside, you could see out the window that the sky had turned red and it was gradually getting more blue, looking like she was chipping off pieces of the sky, if the sky was red, away from the inside out.

Before you knew it, the house the two of you were standing in had been reduced to the foundation of a home, just concrete laying on the floor in the shape of the house Wanda had been living in.

She was wearing a burgundy shirt, a jacket, and jeans instead of the big jeans and plaid shirt she’d had on before, and you were back to wearing your comfortable grey long sleeved shirt and jeans.

Her bottom lip started to tremble and she turned towards you before her breath started to quicken.

You wore a pained expression and stepped towards her, holding your arms out. You thought she was going to deny the embrace you were offering her, but she walked forward and buried her head in your neck, letting you wrap your arms around her, “I’m really proud of you, Wanda. It takes a lot to be able to give up something that important to you.”

She nodded, but said nothing. You stood there for about two more minutes before her breathing had calmed and she’d stopped crying. “Thank you, (Y/n).”

You nodded and smiled sadly at her before you both looked towards the red buick that was now sitting in her driveway, “I think I’m going to have to take you back out of Westview with me. I’ll get in trouble if I just let you leave, I think.”

“It’s fine, I’ll go,” She fished the keys to her car out of her pocket and played with the keyring. “Do you think you can drive us? I kind of want to look around before we leave.”

You took her keys and she let out a breath before quietly thanking you and walking to the passenger seat of her car.

Before you pulled out of the driveway, you spoke, “How did you do all of this?” You asked curiously. Sure, you had magic yourself, but there was no way you could even dream about pulling off anything like this.

“I’m not sure. All I remember is feeling so completely alone and sad, and I went to S.W.O.R.D. to see Vis for the last time before coming here, because Hayward wouldn’t let me take his body to give him a funeral or anything, so I guess I made a version of him here. I really don’t know how I managed though, because -”

“Sorry,” You interrupted, turning to look at her with your brows knitted together. “You said the Vision stayed in S.W.O.R.D.?”

“Yes?” She nodded. “What is it?”

You huffed and started the engine of the car, pulling out of the driveway, “The lying bastard. Hayward edited security camera footage to make it look like you stole the Vision’s body and used it here.”

“That’s ridiculous. I know better than to make myself a criminal again. Well, I mean-”

“It’s fine Wanda. You didn’t mean to,” You continued driving, enjoying the neighborhood.

When you were getting close to the edge of town, she spoke again. “Am I going to jail?”

“I won’t let them put you in jail,” You said simply.

“What, why?” Wanda asked, and it was clear that she was asking because she thought she deserved it and she was expecting it to happen.

“You don’t deserve it,” You shrugged. You didn’t want her to suffer alone, again. She already tried that, and look where that got everyone.

Wanda shook her head, “You know that isn’t true.”

“I believe it is. I know that your actions were wrong, but Hayward was wrong for denying you when you asked for Vision’s body to bury. It wasn’t his to have. All he cares about is money and power and the Vision would cost a lot of money and would give him a lot of power. I mean, realistically, he’s kind of the cause for this. But that’s not the point. The point is that it was never your intention to hurt these people and it’s not fair to you that he set you up like this.”

“And what will you do if they try to put me in jail?” Wanda asked curiously, her voice low.

You sighed as you started to be able to make out Jimmy, Monica, and Darcy from far away. “I dunno, maybe we can run away together or something.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff oneshot #wlw imagine #sapphic #wandavision #wandavision imagine #wandavision oneshot #fanfic

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vodika-vibes · 1 year ago

Text

Golden Thread

Summary: 12 years after your parents banished you to the Labyrinth, you finally have a chance at freedom. And Prince Bly is determined to ensure that you get it.

Pairing: Prince!Bly x F!Reader

Word Count: 3912

Warnings: Violence

Tagging: @trixie2023, @the-bad-batch-baroness

A/N: This was supposed to be a Rapunzel AU, but I apparently wasn't feeling Rapunzel, so this is what was born instead.

Divider by Saradika

When you were a child, your father used to scoop you into his arms and toss you into the air, and you never had to worry about whether or not he would catch you, because he always did.

He would press his face against yours, and press your nose against his, and he would tell you, “Your mother and I loved you so, so much that we just had to raise you as our own!” And you would giggle and hug him.

You never doubted your parents' love for you.

After all, they told you they loved you every day.

And as you got older, your mother would bundle you up onto her lap and braid your hair, and tell you stories of wizards and princesses who were locked in towers. “Ah, my little dove,” She would say in her scratchy voice, “There are only two types of people who live in towers: Wizards and Princesses.” And then she would tickle you and press kisses all over your face, until you were giggling and squealing.

And then you’re ten years old, and your parents don’t take you to the market anymore, and your mother asks, jokingly, how you felt about becoming locked in a tower, and you press your face into her stomach and say, “Mama, I’m neither a wizard nor a princess, towers aren’t for me!”

Your parents moved you into the labyrinth the following week, with your only companion being the half human-half bull child, named Mnemosyne. He’s the same age as you, and has been living in the labyrinth since he was an infant.

You remember, later, raging and screaming at your parents while Nemo keeps you from running into one of the deadly traps that keep him contained. They left you there, in the cold and dark, with only Nemo to keep you company.

That was only 12 years ago now, and you have grown into an adult. You’re perfectly at home in the labyrinth, and you are familiar with the twists and turns as it grows and changes.

“Sister,” Nemo’s voice is low and rumbly, “I found a new passageway.”

“Oh? Did you smell anything interesting?” You ask.

“Fresh food,” He replies, “But also people. Recent people.”

You turn your attention away from your book, “You think other people have entered the labyrinth?” You ask.

Nemo rumbles low in his chest, and your hair stands on end, “If they have, I will kill them.”

Your brother has become violent and dangerous over the years. Not towards you, never towards you, but you know that if anyone else were to enter the labyrinth, Nemo would kill them…and probably eat them.

“There’s no need for such dramatics, brother mine.” You say lightly as you close your book with a snap and set it on the table, “How about I go and check it out, and if we’re lucky I’ll be able to make stew tonight.”

Nemo grumbles, “Hate stew. Not enough meat.”

“Now you’re just fussing to fuss, Nemo.” You scold gently, as you stand from the ratty old couch that Nemo dragged back to your shared quarters years ago. “I’ll be back shortly.”

You leave the shared quarters and head into the labyrinth proper and you sigh. The Labyrinth has changed Nemo, twisting him from an innocent child into something monstrous. He has taken to hovering around you more and more, and the way he looks at you sometimes-

Well…it’s only a matter of time before he kills you.

You head deeper into the labyrinth, twisting and turning down familiar passages, until you find the new one that Nemo told you about. As with every other part of the labyrinth, the stone walls look to have been colored with red clay, though the further down the stone started looking more and more like granite.

You follow the passageway from the labyrinth, into what looks like a massive garden. There are rows and rows of flowers and other decorative plants, but nothing that you could use as food.

You’re disappointed, but not really surprised.

Aside from the ranch where you and Nemo have to negotiate for your weekly allotment of food, none of the other places the labyrinth opens up to have ever led to food.

Still, the feel of sunlight against your skin and warm breeze through your hair is nice enough that you consider just sitting and staying for a time. Anything, really, to get you some space from Nemo.

You walk further into the garden, your fingers trailing lightly over the flowers…it’s been years since you’ve seen flowers that exist solely to be flowers. And they’re not trying to kill you, like that one whole section of labyrinth that is home to man eating plants.

“Oh.” You jump at the sound of a voice from behind you, and for a moment you fear that it’s Nemo. Only the voice isn’t half gravelly enough to be your brother, “I’m fairly certain you’re not supposed to be here.”

You spin on your heels, and look up into the face of a man. He’s taller than you, and broader, but then, you’ve never been a particularly big person to begin with, and twelve years living underground has stunted your growth…probably.

He’s handsome, with short cropped black hair and yellow tattoos on his face, “I’m sorry.” You say, your voice hushed, “I’ll leave.”

He scans your face for a moment, and he frowns, “You don’t have to do that. You don’t seem to be hurting anything.” He takes half a step towards you, “My name is Bly, what’s your name?”

You hesitate, and then reply with your name, and he smiles at you warm and broad, and your stomach does a flip.

Bly moves even closer to you, his smile never once wavering, “How did you even get in here? The gate’s locked.”

“Um…well…there’s another entrance.” You admit as you tuck your hair behind your ear, nervous though you’re not sure why.

“Another…?” Bly looks surprised, “Where?”

Even more hesitantly, you point in the direction of the labyrinth entrance, “Over there.”

He turns and stares. Bly stares for long enough that you worry that maybe he doesn’t see the entrance, but you also worry that he does see the entrance to the labyrinth.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Bly asks, turning fully to stare at the entrance.

“Uh…if it’s any consolation, it’s new?”

“It’s not.” Bly replies flatly, “This Labyrinth is your home?”

“Home. Prison.” You shrug, “Sort of the same thing, really.”

He stops and turns to stare at you, “What.” His voice is flat, and that handsome smile is gone.

“Uh…well…my parents decided to lock me in the labyrinth with my brother. Twelve years ago.” You nervously tuck your hair behind your ear again, “So, you know, Home. Prison. Same thing.”

He continues staring at you, and you shift nervously, “Right. Right, okay. So…that stops.”

“I…uh…what?”

Bly smiles kindly and offers you his hand, “Come on. I’ll get you inside, and we can get you proper food and well fitting clothes. And you never have to go back to the labyrinth.”

“I…” You stare at his hand, longing warring with indecision.

Is it really that easy? Can you just…not go back?

Bly waits patiently, a gentle smile on his face. A smile that broadens into a grin as you slowly, hesitantly, take his hand. His hands are calloused, likely from practicing with the sword that sits comfortably on his hip, and this close it’s obvious that Bly is a soldier.

But you don’t feel nervous or even intimidated by him.

You feel safe.

And isn’t that a kick to the gut? When was the last time you felt safe?

**************

“Are you alright, sarad?” Bly’s voice is quiet but he makes his footsteps loud as he walks up behind you. The family and staff at the palace learned, the hard way, that you react violently when people sneak up on you.

Though they’re always kind enough to not ask questions, even after that one time you accidentally broke Prince Neyo’s jaw when he snuck up on you.

You’ve been living in the palace for two weeks now, and aside from a few mishaps -sleeping is hard above ground, and you’re so twitchy at times- you’re starting to feel settled.

Starting, but not quite there yet.

“Just thinking,” You reply, belatedly realizing that Bly had asked you a question. Your gaze is locked on the sealed off entrance to the Labyrinth, just barely visible from where you’re leaning against the railing on the balcony.

Bly leans against the railing next to you, “Well, I’m happy to listen, if you want to share?”

You turn your head to look at him, “Why are you so nice to me?” You ask in return.

“Well, because being nice is my default setting,” Bly replies drily, “But also, the first time I saw you, you looked like you needed a friend.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Your gaze drifts back towards the labyrinth.

“Are you homesick?” Bly asks, shifting closer to you so that you can feel the warmth from his body through the thin tunic he’s wearing.

“Not homesick.” You shake your head and absently lean into his warmth, “the labyrinth was never home. But I do feel guilty.”

“About your brother,” Bly replies.

“Yes.” You tremble slightly, “He must be so angry.”

“Hey,” Bly presses his hand against your shoulder, sending warmth right down to your toes, “As soon as the Master Wizard comes up with a way to map the labyrinth, we’ll go and find your brother. I promise.”

“...you don’t understand.” You whisper.

“I know that I’d do anything for my brothers,” His hand slides from your shoulder and up your neck, and then settles against your cheek. Bly gently tilts your head to look him in the eye, “And we’ll do the same thing for yours.”

His thumb lightly brushes against your lips, and you inhale sharply. Bly slowly pulls his hand away from your face, “Sorry,” He whispers.

“It’s okay.” You whisper right back, “what…what if my brother can’t be saved?”

Bly’s hand cups your face again, “Do you trust me?”

You’re quiet for a long moment, and then you sigh and nod once, “Of course. You’re a good man.”

He grins at you, “Then trust me to save your brother.”

You turn to look at him, and you reach out, pressing both of your hands against his face, “Bly…my brother-”

He places his hands on top of yours, and gently pulls them away from his face. And then, with his gaze locked with yours, he presses feather light kisses against your knuckles, “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

You shiver at the feel of his breath against your skin, and Bly smiles at you, “Let’s get you back inside, sarad. It won’t be long before we save your brother. I promise it.”

You want to believe him. You do.

But you know, in your heart of hearts, that this is not going to end well. And that it’s only a matter of time before Nemo breaks through the magical barrier holding him back.

And it is holding him back.

You glance at the entrance to the labyrinth, and shiver when you see a pair of malevolent red eyes glaring up at you from behind the barrier, but when you blink the eyes are gone.

Bly drapes his arm over your shoulder, and guides you inside, “Look at you, sarad, you’re shivering. Let’s get you warmed up.”

Two days later, you’re standing in the garden with Bly, the Court Wizard and King Jango, while the old wizard squints at the barrier through irritated eyes.

“You seem troubled,” King Jango notes as he glances at his wizard.

“I am troubled. The barrier has weakened…a lot.”

“So, something has been trying to come through?” Bly asks, “Your brother perhaps.”

“Oh…most assuredly.”

The wizard scowls at you, “Your brother is a magic user?”

“Uh…no. Not at all.”

“Well, no human could get through that barrier without magic-”

“I’m not entirely sure why you all assume my brother is human…” You say quietly, as you take a half step back, behind Bly. “And he’s here.” You add as you point at the barrier.

There’s a loud thump, and then another one. And then the sound of shattering glass as the magic barrier shatters into pieces, and your brother steps into the garden, “Sister-” He bellows.

Bly shoves you behind him, and draws his blade, and you hear heavy footsteps as ARC Knights start pouring into the garden. “Nemo! Stop!” You shout, “They’re not going to-” You release a startled cry as a large hand shoves Bly to the side, flinging him into a tree, “Bly!”

You stumble back as Nemo looms over you, “Sister…” He rumbles out. Nemo reaches out and grabs your arm with a large hand and he jerks you, painfully, to his side, “You left…” He snarls.

“Nemo…I’m sorry.”

“Not…good…enough…”

His other hand wraps around your neck and shoulder, and tightens to the point where you’re quickly gasping for breath. And then there’s pain, blinding pain, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of shouting, the men around you trying to rip Nemo off of you…and then the pain flares, and that, paired with the lack of oxygen, causes the world around you to go dark.

*****************

Bly stares as the creature carts his sarad into the Labyrinth. He’s in too much pain to move, or else he would be on his feet, and chasing after them. “Easy, vod. I have you.” His gaze flickers to the medic, who’s kneeling over him, “Your injuries are severe, but you’ll heal.”

His gaze flickers away from his brother, and to the slender arm laying on the ground. That creature, Nemo, he heard you call it, had ripped your arm off, and then tossed it to the side as though it was nothing.

Bly struggles to sit up, gasping as pain flares from his ribs, “You need to lie still, Bly!” The medic snaps.

“He ripped her arm-”

“We’ll find her,” King Jango interrupted, turning his furious gaze on the Court Wizard, “Well?”

“I attached the magic thread to her,” The Wizard replied grimly, “It’ll remain attached to her even if that creature kills her-”

Bly releases a noise at the thought of you dying, and he tries to lurch up into a sitting position, only to get forcefully shoved back to the ground.

The wizard pauses, and then continues, “The thread cannot be broken, cannot be cut, and will connect from the young lady to this very spot until such time that I break the connection.”

“So we can send someone after her.”

“Indeed.” The Wizard nods, “I suggest that we send Prince Bly.”

“He’s injured.”

“He’ll heal,” The Wizard points out, “And he’s going to go after her with or without your permission.”

King Jango is silent for a moment, and then he nods once, curtly, “Fine. Once he’s healed, we’ll send him into the labyrinth.”

***************

How long has it been? You no longer know.

Your head swims and you tremble with pain, and your trembling hand crosses your body to brush against the ragged, and painful, edges where your arm used to be.

You release a silent, shaky, breath.

Your brothe-...no. Not brother, never again brother.

Mnemosyne, the Minotaur, had ripped your arm off as punishment for leaving him.

To his credit, he has been taking care of you. Ensuring that your arm…the remains of your arm…are clean and bandaged. Making sure that you have enough food to not starve. Bringing you fresh water every day.

You’re surprised. You thought, for sure, that the scent of you bleeding would be enough to push him into killing you, but so far, it hasn’t.

You drop your hand onto your lap, the clothes that Bly gave you were stiff with dried blood…Mnemosyne hasn’t bothered to try and replace them, and you wonder if that’s because it’ll be easy for him to track you if you try to run.

Probably.

You wouldn’t have been so harsh in your appraisal of Nemo…but Nemo died the moment he ripped your arm from your body. And no amount of Mnemosyne’s kindness will help you see him as Nemo ever again.

Your gaze drifts to your wrist, specifically the golden thread that connects you with…something. Mnemosyne doesn’t seem to be able to notice it, and has walked through it multiple times since he returned you to the den.

Maybe…maybe if you follow the thread…?

Slowly, painfully, you push to your feet and walk across the den to where the door to the den is. You push the door open and step into the hallway, your eyes easily picking out the glowing thread in the dark halls.

And so…you start walking.

You feel bad. You’re in pain, and you’re too hot and too cold and the world swims around you. That’s probably bad, you remember reading something, once, about infections and fevers…but it’s too hard to think right now.

So you focus on putting one foot in front of the other, and you follow the thread.

Before you really realize it, you’re moving slower and slower, and then you slump against the wall and slide to the floor. Mnemosyne is going to find you…and this time he’ll probably kill you.

It’s a shame, really, Bly was going to teach you how to dance. You had been looking forward to it.

The next thing you’re aware of is hands against your face. You blink slowly once. And then again as the world remained out of focus.

“...Bly?” You whisper as the world finally comes into focus, and you see a familiar face.

He heaves a sigh of relief, “Oh, thank the stars. I thought you were…” Bly shakes his head, “Never mind. You were unconscious, sarad.”

“Was I?” You ask quietly.

“You were.” His hands are warm, even though the gloves he is wearing, “Sarad, what were you doing?”

“Was following the thread,” You mumble.

“Good girl,” He breathes out, and you blink up at him, “That thread would have led you right back to Mandalore.” He looks you over, and then frowns, “Let’s get you out of these clothes, and I have some stuff for your arm.”

“Oh. Alright,” You allow him to help you to your feet, and you’re barely able to keep standing as he quickly strips the blood soaked clothes from your bruised body, and replaces them with a clean tunic and pants.

You’re vaguely aware of him unwrapping your arm and placing some sort of ointment and then clean bandages on it, but it’s a hazy awareness. You blink at him, hazily, and he gently cups your face, “You still with me, sarad?”

“I…maybe?”

“That’s alright.” His voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater, “I’m going to take care of you, sarad. I promise.” One of his hands slides into your hair, and he gently tugs your head so it’s resting against his chest plate. You shakily wrap your arm around him, and you feel his lips against the top of your head.

“How are…” You grimace, the words fleeing your mind before you can say them, “Mnemosyne?”

Bly pauses, “We’re going to collapse the labyrinth.” He says softly, “There are dozens of my brothers setting explosives throughout the labyrinth as we speak. I just need to get you out.”

“...oh.”

“Are you okay with that?” Bly asks.

You pull your head away from his chest, and look up at him. Slowly you nod, “I think I am.” You whisper.

He smiles at you, warm and gentle, “I’m sorry that we have to kill your brother.”

“...he’s not my brother. Not anymore.” You whisper.

Bly nods and kisses your forehead, feather light, “Come on, sarad. Let’s get you out of here.” He takes your hand and starts leading you back the way you came.

You do your best to keep up, but you’re not surprised at all when he has to switch to carrying you.

You cringe as the sound of a furious bellow fills the labyrinth. All you can do is press your face against Bly’s neck as he follows the golden thread. You lift your head slightly when you hear the sound of lots of men in armor running.

ARC knights, all of them following a different color thread, are heading in the same direction as you and Bly. And before you realize it, you’re back in the garden of Mandalore.

Bly hands you over to the medics, who immediately sit you on a gurney and start fussing over you.

You float somewhere between conscious and unconscious, though you do jolt to awareness at the sound of a massive explosion. You’re not able to do much of anything though, as one of the medics injects something into your arm, and you swiftly drift off to sleep.

The next time you wake up, you’re laying in a soft bed. You’re covered in healing bacta, you can tell because of the smell, and you’re no longer in pain.

You turn your head to the side, and you smile when you see Bly sitting there. He’s absently twirling a hunting knife between his fingers, his gaze locked on your face.

“Sarad!” The knife slides back into a sheath on his thigh as Bly leans in to take your hand, “You’re awake.” He sounds relieved.

“Bly…how long have I-?”

“It’s been three days, you had an infection.” Bly explains, as he folds his hands around yours, “You’re going to have to stay here for a while longer, while they make sure the infection is gone. It…it was pretty hit or miss there, for a while.”

“Sorry.” You whisper.

“Not your fault, baby.” He replies, as he brushes some of your hair off of your face, leaving his hand pressed warmly against your cheek, “How are you feeling?”

You close your eyes and lean into his touch, “Mm…I’m not in pain. So I'm just tired, I guess.”

“That’s good. Great, even.” Bly says with a sigh as his fingers begin lightly tracing your features, “Do you want an update on the Labyrinth?”

“Yes please.”

“So the entrance in the garden was completely destroyed,” Bly says after a moment, “But we found another opening just outside the city. As of right now it’s under 24 hour guard, and there are magic drones mapping out the landscape, and trying to determine if Mnemosyne survived.”

“And if he did?” You ask, softly.

“We’ll cross that bridge only if we have to.” Bly insists, “And it won’t be your job.”

“Oh, alright.” You swallow hard, “So what happens now?”

“Now you rest and recover, and then we’re opening an investigation into your parents. They have a lot to answer for, not just for sealing you away, but also for Mnemosyne.” Bly replies, his thumb lightly caresses your cheek, “And, when you’re healed, I’m finally going to teach you how to dance.”

You laugh softly, and favor him with a small smile, “It’s a date then.”

Bly’s face brightens, “The first of many, I hope.”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we.” You tease lightly.

He stands and kisses your forehead, “You’ll see, angel. I’ll be the best boyfriend.” Bly kisses your forehead again, “But I’ll let you rest-”

You close your hand around his, “Stay?”

And he grins, “For as long as you’ll have me.”

#star wars #tcw #commander bly x reader #bly x reader #magic and knights au #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #star wars AU

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earnestly-endlessly · 4 years ago

Note

I love your fic recs! Do you have any with Protective!Erik?

Protective! Erik is one of my favourite tropes so I have a TON of fics to share with you. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

Protective! Erik fic recs

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours – madneto, Pangea

Summary: Army Pilot Erik Lehnsherr is just trying to enjoy his day off when a mostly naked person crashes through the roof of his car. Even more alarming, the strange falling naked person—who goes by Charles Xavier when he's not speaking an ancient dead language—brings tidings of the apparent potential end of the world, and begs Erik to help him put a stop to it.

Well. His mother has been nagging at him to go out and meet new people.

In Sound and Silence – endingthemes

Summary: Erik is assigned to care for the special patient in room 301.

How Not To Meet Your Future Boyfriend – ikeracity

Summary: Erik punches Charles in the face the first time they meet. There isn't anywhere their relationship can go from there but up.

Forgotten – FuryRed

Summary: Charles is having a really bad day. Not only has he woken up in the middle of the afternoon with no idea where he is or how he got there, but when he returns home he’s confronted by a stranger with intense eyes, who insists that he knows Charles rather more intimately than Charles remembers…

Thou Shalt Not Eat Stones – valancysnaith

Summary: Two months after Washington, Raven found Erik in a skeevy motel off the Florida interstate.

“They have Charles, Erik,” she said.

The bedframe shrieked. In the bathroom, the showerhead snapped in half and clattered into the tub.

Demoted – JayPendragon

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a detective-specialist with the NYPD Mutant Tactical Unit, ready to help out where his skills are needed. Or he would be, if he and his partner hadn’t been demoted. For the next four months, he is patrolling the Lenox Hill precinct with Azazel – if he doesn’t die of boredom first. One night they are called in to investigate a potential case of domestic violence, yet the tenant assures them he is both alone and unharmed. However, there is something about this Charles Xavier that compels Erik to follow up.

Warning: Sensitive material, domestic abuse and dubious consent

Watch Your Back – swoopswoop

Summary: Bodyguard AU where Erik is overly protective and things aren't as simple as they seem.

If We Met Differently – swoopswoop

Summary: Erik wasn't the only mutant 'taken in' by Shaw, Erik learns this the hard way when a new mutant is dropped into his cell. They manage to escape together, but things aren't all roses after that. Erik has a score to settle and needs to make sure Charles is safe.

The Color of Love (Character Swap Remix) – BadLuckBlueEyes

Summary: Nobody sees in color until they meet their soulmates. When your soulmate dies, your vision returns to black and white. What happens when your soulmate only dies for a few minutes?

Omega Online – miss_aphelion

Summary: Newly imprinted Charles is having trouble dealing with his overly protective alpha—so in desperation he seeks advice in an omega chat room. Emma Frost is more than happy to help, Raven isn't helping at all, and Erik can't stand to be out of touch with Charles for more than five minutes at a time.

Cannot be Contained in Words – wallhaditcoming (uvcatastrophe)

Summary: Crime syndicate head Erik Lehnsherr travels to London on business, where he meets oxford student Charles Xavier. Their liaison spawns into a years long transatlantic affair, kept apart by Erik's work and Charles' studies,which Erik chronicles in photographs. When distance ceases to be an issue after four long years, the overlap between Charles' past and Erik's work create a whole new set of complications.

A Pertinent Reminder – ikeracity, Pangea

Summary: Sometimes it's easy to forget that getting involved in Erik's mob business isn't all fine dining and sex on yachts. There's nothing like taking a couple of bullets to remind Charles of the reality.

Part 3 of the Associates series

A Dangerous Game – ikeracity, pangea

Summary: When a familiar enemy of Erik's returns to the city for some old-fashioned revenge, Charles is sucked deeper into the world of the mob than ever before.

Part 6 of the Associates series

You don’t choose the thug life (except when you do) – Anonymous

Summary: Charles is kidnapped and discovers that Erik, the Alpha he has been dating for the past few months and is head-over-heels for, is not just a wealthy businessman but actually the head of a syndicate.

He is rather unhappy about this discovery and Erik gets an earful for lying to him. Then Charles is kidnapped again and really, he hopes mating Erik won't result in weekly kidnapping because he has a thesis to finish and papers to grade.

Marrying a Mob – Ook

Summary: Charles is a teacher at a very exclusive school. When armed men burst in on the trail of two children, of course he stands up to them and gets hurt. The children are Erik Lehnsherr's children (of course); a "prominent businessman" or, less politely, "mobster".

Erik is grateful to Charles for saving his children's lives at the cost of his kneecap. So very grateful.

Naturally he tries to reward Charles for his actions. Equally naturally, Charles will be having none of that.

Azazel finds the whole thing unspeakably hilarious. Naturally.

Rumor Has It – blueink3

Summary: "Did I hear the doorbell earlier?"

"Yeah, but I'd steer clear if I were you. It seemed a little tense. I don't know what's going on, but there's a kid out there who looks freakily like the prof."

Nearly six months after Cuba, Charles' life is turned upside down for the second time. Though he's slowly learning to adapt to the first, he's not sure he can handle the second. Luckily for him, there are a few people out there more than willing to help.

Forward Momentum – AsYouWish

Summary: Six months after Cuba, Charles and Erik find themselves thrown fifty years into the future, where they meet their older selves, the Avengers, and a world that's very different from their own. Faced with the pieces of their broken relationship, an unparalleled adversary, and dealing with Tony Stark on a daily basis, Charles and Erik do their best to adapt while trying to find a way back home -- and to each other.

Runs in the Family – Anonysquirrel (chibirisuchan)

Summary: Alex knew his own reputation. Hell, he'd started some of his own reputation, because it kept some of the smarter thugs off his back. Everyone knew Alex's reputation. There was no way Hank didn't know his reputation, but he'd brought Alex into a house with some really expensive things and a lot of innocent little kids and his too-friendly, too-harmless dad.

But clearly Hank hadn't told his family anything about Alex, just like he hadn't told Alex anything about his family. At least, not about the brain-breaking parts of his family.

"I didn't know where to start," Hank said, for the dozenth time.

Featuring mpreg!Charles in a Kiss The Cook apron, overprotective!Erik in wet black leather, and baked goods. Lots and lots of baked goods.

Round the Corner Waiting – swoopswoop

Summary: When things go so spectacularly wrong during a relationship, Charles - now a single dad - almost makes a big mistake, only to be stopped by a mysterious man who just might turn his life back around.

Hide Your Fires – swoopswoop

Summary: As the sole heir, Prince Charles, had no problem with the roles and responsibility that would come with ruling a kingdom. Though he was the only one who did not see a problem. After years of being shuttled back and forth between kingdoms, his Regent hoping he would find a match more suitable to being King, he is finally sent to Genosha. Though the path has never been less clear than the one to a foreign kingdom with no ties to his native land.

Shaw’s Captive – swoopswoop

Summary: Magneto killed Shaw, it had to be done for the sake of mutant-kind but what he wasn't expecting to find hidden deep with Shaw's complex was a man held captive, obviously tortured, that somehow made Magneto turn into Erik.

Erik now has a potential human in his citadel as he continues the war with the human's.

Mind’s Eye Blind – Sperare

Summary: As far as Erik is concerned, if you want to scare a person into talking, you have to present him with something more compelling than what he stands to lose...

And there is nothing in the world more compelling than Charles.

Chipped – Rosawyn

Summary: Magneto's fledgling Brotherhood find Charles Xavier in a mutations research lab as an apparently willing subject for an experimental suppression device.

Okay, I Feel Better Now – Harleydoll

Summary: The AU in which Erik is sent to a mental health facility after being convicted for Shaw's murder and pleads insanity, and Charles is his paranoid schizophrenic of a roommate. Powers, Hellfire conspiracies, protective!Erik, and of course the inevitable angst.

Five Nights in Nuremberg – FuryRed

Summary: When Charles escapes from the mutant prison he has been held in for the last two years he knows that he’s going to need help to avoid being recaptured.

What he doesn’t expect is that help will come in the form of a mysterious German man who rescues Charles and takes him to his home; a handsome stranger who, frustratingly, doesn’t speak a single word of English…

Five Bullet Points – Sperare

Summary: It was supposed to be Erik locked away in a prison one hundred stories below the ground.

Charles was never supposed to be there with him.

Notes: Unfinished but an excellent read. Highly recommend it.

Stolen – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is a miserable, grumpy, cantankerous bastard, and he has every fucking right to be. He drew the short end of the stick when he got the Underworld as his domain, and there isn't very much fun to be had in judging and governing dead souls who would rather be anywhere else but with Erik in the depths of Hell.

So when he meets Charles, brilliant and lovely Charles who is more popularly known amongst the mortals as Persephone, and feels the promise of something wonderful that could make his eternally doomed existence infinitely more bearable... you can bet all your drachmas Erik's not going to let Charles go any fucking time soon.

My Barbaric Darling – baehj2915

Summary: Erik is revivified caveman. Charles is the anthropologist(?) taking care of him. This is as ridiculous as it sounds. Romcom misunderstandings and prehistoric wooing ensues.

Swimming with Sharks – Not_You

Summary: Erik used to be a shark. Now he's not, and has to figure out how to be a good human father to his twins. Charles is willing to help.

Eucalyptus leaf of my soul - kageillusionz, ourgirlfriday

Summary: Zookeeper Raven at Taronga Zoo keeps having ideas on how to capitalize on interest in the zoo mascots, Koala Charles and Drop Bear Erik (the only drop bear in captivity!), who have captured the hearts and minds of the public. First it was to introduce prospective mates (It’ll generate attention, Hank. People are perverts. They’d love to see koala porn.). This idea was not effective the first through fifth attempts, as Erik and Charles seemed to show at best polite interest in the newcomer before resuming whatever marsupial debate they had going. However, the resulting lesbian koala orgies did indeed generate interest. Then Raven unveiled the Hug-A-Koala program, which was successful, as the public showed great interest in hugging Charles, and Charles seemed to enjoy being hugged.

Then Raven unveiled the Hug-A-Drop Bear program, and Hank, not for the first time, wished he had a flask handy.

Notes: Yes, they’re Koalas, yes they’re adorable, and yes, Erik is super protective even as a Drop Bear.

#cherik #cherik fic recs #fic recs #protective Erik #long post

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lubdubsworld · 4 years ago

Text

Insatiable ( Jungkook x OC) Chapter 7

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC! Age difference!!!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7

“I love this...” I whispered, arms wrapped around his neck, staring up into Jungkooks face as he rocked his hips against mine , hands stroking my hips gently as the hard length of him dragged inside me , almost gentle as he placed soft kisses on my brow.

“What? “ he smiled.

“You inside me... it feels.. i feel complete somehow..”

He smiled sweetly, kissing the corner of my lips.

“You’re so warm and wet and I think you’re perfect.” He breathed against my cheeks, pillow soft lips pressing smooches down my jaw and up to my lobe.

“I liked ...tonight. “I said shyly and he grimaced.

“I may have gone a little overboard..” He said sheepishly, grunting as he thrust a little harder and I closed my eyes , savoring the feeling of him inside me.

“But I liked it. Liked that I couldn’t even watch the fireworks because of ...well another kind of fireworks..” I laughed.

He grinned.

“ I aim to please.”

“Good. Then why dont you hurry up and fuck me like you mean it.” I said with a wink and his eyes narrowed, flashing red.

“You never learn, do you angel?”

I laughed as he pulled out and flipped me over, fingers sinking into hair, hand gripping my waist as he rove straight into me with a force that shook the bed.

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

“On a scale of one to ten, how mad would your siblings be if you don’t go back to your bed tonight?” Jungkook whispered, burying his face in the slightly damp strands of my hair, breathing deeply before going back to running a small fluffy towel through the strands.

I stared up at the ceiling , eyes at half mast because I was so sleepy, still pleasantly warm from the hot bath I’d just had . I was dressed in one of Jungkook’s big white t shirts , lying sideways on his bed with my head hanging over the edge because y hair was still wet. Jungkook being the perfect man that he was , was towel drying my wet locks for me.

“Probably a twenty?” I grimaced. “ I need to be up early to go down to the kitchen. We’re taking the kids out to the park remember?”

Jungkook groaned.

“Minae needs to be kept away from the sugar ... I am not going to piggy back her for two straight hours like yesterday.” He swore.

i laughed, rolling over and smiling at him.

“ She has a crush on you.” I grinned, waggling my eyebrows at him.

He shook his head laughing.

“I’m too old to be dealing with four year olds that have a crush on me., “He shuddered. I smiled, shaking my head because , Jungkook was the one who had begun helping out with the children and he was often the first to offer a piggyback ride to the kids.

Being a single father, I knew he had experience with kids, of course. But still it was quite something watching him handle them with confident hands and a ridiculously kind disposition. And he didn’t shy away from anything. Changing toddlers out of nappies, cleaning spit up off my office desk , even offering his nails for the smitten Minae to color with her markers.

And it felt good to have him around, his presence somehow grounding me even during the most hectic of times. Story time with Mr. Jeon, was fast becoming a thing, with Jungkook gathering all the younglings around him in a circle and regaling them with tales from his life ( a toned down, child friendly version of it of course ) while I set up the beds in the nap room, every afternoon.

The kids slept for about an hour every afternoon and that was the time we ate our lunch, the workers heading off to the kitchen while Jungkook and I shared a meal cook sent up for us. The small stone bench on the yard was right outside the window of the nap room, and leaving the window open helped us keep an eye on the kids while we ate.

Not too mention the effect it had on Joo Won.

Although he spent most of his time with Somi and Jimin in the other cottage , learning his number work and language skills, he occasionally ran up to his father, eager to show off his work. Jungkook always dropped whatever he was doing to shower praises on his son and the boy thrived under the attention.

The idea that I could do this with him for the rest of my life, was impossible to push out of my head.

But i wouldn’t bring it up.

I would enjoy this , now while I had it and I would wait for him of course but I wasn’t going to play games with him.

“I’m not meeting anyone else anymore.” I said quietly.

He gave me a look.

“anyone as in?..”

“Any vampires. potential suitors” I said with a shrug. “ I’m not going to. I’m going to tell my father I’m... not interested in it anymore.”

Jungkook stopped his ministrations and gave me a guilty laden look.

“Sera, about tonight-”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” I glared at him. “ I loved it. I love you , as I’ve told you often enough and I also understand that you’re not there yet. and I can wait.”

Jungkook looked away.

“That’s not fair to you.” He said hoarsely.

“Maybe. But it’s still my choice. And My life. And if I choose to spend that life pining over you for the rest of eternity , that’s upto me.” I shrugged.

He merely stared at me, lips turned down in a frown.

“You’re too young to understand what you’re asking for Sera. You don’t realize how powerful you are. I’m not... I’m not good enough for you.” He shook his head. “ Far from it.”

I rolled my eyes.

“What does that even mean? You’re a vampire. There’s literally nothing that stops us from being together than your twisted belief that you aren’t good enough. Which is so baseless I could laugh. ”

Jungkook stared at me.

“It’s not just about me. What about the kind of power you would have with the right vampire? not to mention the people in my life that would want me fucking dead sera? You think everyone would just let it go? Me , a fucking nobody marrying the most adored girl in our kind??? ” he laughed in disbelief.

i frowned.

“What do you mean ?”

Jungkook opened his mouth to elaborate but the door to his bedroom slammed open at that exact same moment and I jumped, terrified. Scrambling to my knees, I crawled back to the headboard just as Jungkook swore, moving to the door , bodychecking the figure that crashed through.

“JEON FUCKING JUNGKOOK GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!!!!!”

I felt my eyes widen in horror as my brother in law launched himself across the room, fingers closing right around Jungkook’s neck as he rammed into him, the two of them skidding across the floor and crashing into the ornate fireplace with a noise loud enough to wake the dead.

I stared, my brain unable to process what I was seeing.

My sister appeared, eyes wild and panicked.

“Oh God... Sera I’m so sorry...he came to your room and saw you were gone...” she began but then stopped.

Her eyes fell on the pandemonium in the corner and she yelped.

“jIMIN!!!!” She screamed, rushing to the corner where the two vampires were locked together in a scuffle and the only thing I could think about was the fact that I was naked underneath his t shirt and if anyone else walked in-

“What is this ruckus?” The loud booming noise was familiar and terrifying and i squeaked, diving for the covers and crawling in as I stared horrified. The figure that appeared in the doorway was so imposing that all of us went still. Even Jungkook’s eyes widened as he took in the gargantuan man framed in the entryway.

Hwang Jaebum was seven feet tall, 1800 years old and the scariest Vampire i had ever seen in my entire life. His skin was shriveled , his eyes permanently red and he stared at the two fighting vampires , now frozen and gawking at the towering vampire and he scrunched his nose in disgust before his red eyes flashed and landed on me.

“There you are.” He said softly. “Sweet Seraphina.”

The name, God.

My uncle had named me and no one called me that but him.

I swallowed, clutching the covers as sheer unadulterated terror coursed through my veins. I knew my uncle wouldn’t hurt me but still, power radiated off him in waves and I did not want to be on the receiving end of his displeasure.

“Come here , child. Let me look at you.”

I winced.

Before I could react though, Jungkook was climbing on the bed, scrabbling to kneel right in front of me, arms stretched out to keep me from the vampire’s view.

“Who the fuck are you?” He snarled and I gasped, stunned. God, Uncle Jae had killed people for less.

I grabbed Jungkook quickly, pulling him back into my arms and away from the vampire who now looked suitably furious.

“That’s my uncle. Shut up.” I hissed quickly. Jungkook didn’t show any sign of backing down, still crouched in front of me, muscles locked in a fighting stance and I clutched his shoulders, burying my face in his back.

“Jungkook relax...” I begged but he merely grabbed my hand where it lay wrapped on his waist, squeezing gently.

“It’s okay baby, I’m here.” He was still glaring at my uncle who peered over him to lock eyes with me.

“Who is this? Why are you in his bed, Seraphina? “ My Uncles’ voice rumbled through the room, echoing off the rafters and Jimin and Somi scrambled to their feet.

“Sire.... We didn’t know you were here already..” Jimin began, moving to stand in front of him but Jaebum ignored him, moving closer to the bed.

“Who are you? Tell me now.” He snarled.

I stared at the anger flashing in my uncle’s eyes and I swallowed.

“He is her intended, brother.” My father’s voice came from the doorway and i jumped a bit, staring over at the door.

My father came floating in, face calm but eyes narrowed in annoyance as he stared at me. I found myself wilting under the glare. He was upset, Rightfully so.

My uncle frowned, glancing at my father in disbelief.

“She is betrothed?” He frowned. “ Why was I not informed of this?”

My father gave him a reassuring smile.

“It is fairly new, this courtship. Jungkook and Sera are very fond of each other and they have my blessing.”

Next to me Jungkook had gone as pale as parchment. He moved up and away from me and my entire body went cold.

I reached for his hand, flinching when he yanked it away.

Fuck.

“I need to speak to the boy. What is your name boy?” My uncle growled at Jungkook.

“Jeon Jungkook , sire.:”

He frowned.

“What clan are you from?”

I flinched.

My father looked a little uncomfortable.

“Surely we can talk about this-”

“I was bitten , Sire.It’s just me and my son, now.” Jungkook’s voice was deep and steady and he stared right at my uncle.

Uncle Jae’s eyes widened and then he stared at me.

“That is what you will settle for , Seraphina? A mongrel with tainted blood?”

The sharp sound of hurt that came from Jungkook shattered my heart.

But it was my father who growled, affronted.

“That is enough. You are a guest , Jaebum and I will not have you insulting my daughter’s betrothed. Leave him be.”

My uncle laughed.

“It is not an insult. It is a fact...is it not, boy? Look at him... he knows his place. And it not by her side.”

“Jungkook, don’t listen to him ...” i whispered feverishly , reaching for him again not letting him pull away and gripping his fingers hard. His fingers felt icy cold to the touch and there was no mistaking the sheer hurt radiating off his features.

“Unless the girl is in trouble, I think you should sever the connection, Jaehyun.” My uncle snapped at my father .

“We shall talk about this later. For now, I want you to remember your place, Jaebum. You have duties to attend to and my daughter’s choice is her own. I will not have you interfering in things that you aren’t responsible for.” My father’s voice was just as loud, radiated just as much authority and i had never loved him more.

Jaebum scoffed once again before turning on his heel and leaving . I sagged in relief and Jungkook, got off the bed, moving away from me so quickly I felt like someone had stuck a knife in my gut.

“Jimin and Somi, come. Jungkook , Sera. I want the two of you to come to my office after you fix yourself up.” My father said coldly.

“Yes, Sir.” Jungkook bowed.

“Yes, father.”

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

“Father....I...”

“You slept with him. “ My father said thoughtfully and I stared at my feet. There was no point denying it.

“Has he agreed to court you?” He said sharply.

I looked up at him, biting my lips.

“No.” I whispered.

My father’s eyes widened and he shot me a glare that could melt gold.

“He fed from you during the act?” He demanded. I felt the phantom throb in my thighs at the memory.

“Yes, father. “ I admitted.

“Then I must ask. Was it consensual? Did you influence him in any way Seraphina.”

My heart turned over, tears springing at the accusation.

“No... No .. I didn’t.. he doesn’t know.. he doesn’t even know I can do that.” I whispered.

“Could you have done it unconsciously? If Jungkook fed from you and you were near him you could have convinced him to do anything. He wouldn’t have been able to consent. You know this, Sera. I don’t understand how you could be so reckless. We are not monsters. We know our limits and we stick to them for fuck’s sake.”

“He... we... I... It’s my fault. He didn’t.. He didn’t want to court me so I convinced him we could just...fool around. That was all it was. He loves his son father. He’s only here to give him a better life. I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry for being so selfish and ..Please just don’t send him away. I’ll never meet him again if that’s what you want but please....don’t send him away. .” I stared at my father, feeling the tears sting.

My father’s gaze softened but he sighed, shaking his head as he held his arm out. I walked into his embrace, letting the tears fall as I clutched his robe.

“You have not been selfish, dearest. . But, no matter who are, we cannot covet what we are never meant to have . Jungkook is not for you.” He whispered into my hair and I felt my insides clench in rebellion, every part of me screaming in protest at the phrase.

No.. No... he was mine.. he had to be mine....

I was his and he was mine.

“ I’m going to offer him the position as head of the security team.” My father aid gently and I shuddered.

“Father..”

“It will pay well. He will be working from the administrative building close to me. . There’s no reason for your paths to cross. Namjoon will take over as your bodyguard from tomorrow.”

i nodded.

“I want you to remember who you are. What you are capable of. I raised you to be kind and gentle but that does not change who you are, Sera. It doesn’t change what you are.” he said gently, eyes firm.

I swallowed.

“You may leave.”

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

Jungkook stared at the whiskey decanter on the table. watching Sera’s father pour him a drink. His eyes focused on the golden liquid, the way it caught the light and danced with all the colors of autumn.

“I’m going to ask you one thing. I want you to answer me, as truth fully as you would your own father.”

Jungkook was a father, himself. He knew the anger and trepidation in the man’s gaze was real. He knew exactly what it felt like, that desperate clawing need to keep your child safe. To destroy anything that dare hurt them.

“Do you love my daughter?” The man’s voice shook a little.

“I cannot court her.” He whispered. “ I’m not... I can’t. “

“That is not what i asked .” The older man said gently.

He shook his head.

“I don’t have the right to feel anything but respect for her, sir.” Jungkook said softly.

The vampire shook his head laughing.

“Your eyes tell me all you refuse to say, Jungkook ah. You care deeply for her, do you not? it is obvious in the tremble of your hand. it was obvious in the way you stood up to my brother, when surely everything in your blood must’ve screamed to back away from a Vampire of such a high ranking. ”

Jungkook clenched his fists.

Sera’s father went on.

“I know you love her and honestly, If you didn’t.... you wouldn’t be alive right now.”

Jungkook winced.

“Yes , sir.” He croaked.

“I will destroy entire continents for my daughter. You know this. “ He said quietly.

Jungkook nodded. He believed the man .

“Which is why I must ask. Who is after you?”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped up, eyes widening in surprise.

“Sir...”

“I’m not the head of the largest clan in the country for nothing. You are protecting your son...but from what? A man of your reputation , choosing to stay inside an estate , helping out with infants and children.... it doesn’t make sense. So tell me. What are you hiding from? And how can I help?”

Jungkook stared at his hands.

“It’s Joowon’s grandfather. The man who’s daughter I killed.”

Sera’s father stiffened.

“Ahh... yes. Gong Tae Kwan. An old nemesis .” He shook his head, sighing. “ You’ve made a powerful enemy , Jungkook.”

Jungkook nodded.

“I know. I’m no match for him. And I know he’s not going to stop until he kills me and my son.”

“You’re right. He’s not going to stop. Now, what so you want to do? Hide out till he finally catches up or confront him like the warrior you are?”

“i can’t do it. I need to be here for Joo Won.... It would be suicidal...”

“ Only if you’re alone. “

“Sir?”

“It would be suicidal , if you were to confront him alone.”

“Are you saying that...”

“I’m going to be there with you. We are going to lure the bastard out , and we are going to end this once and for all.”

“Sir, i can’t ask you to...”

“You’re not asking me damn thing kid. I’m doing this for my daughter’s sake. And you are going to repay me by making her as happy as you possibly can.” He said sternly.

Jungkook flushed

“Sir.. I’m sorry I...”

“When this ends, and it will....you will court her. You will court her, because unlike what you think, you do not get to decide whether you’re worthy of being my daughter’s consort. She does.” He gave him a smile, reaching out and clamping a hand on his shoulder. “ If she chooses you it means you’re worthy. And she has chosen you , Jeon Jungkook . Don’t be the idiot who walks away from the best thing to ever happen to him, son. ”

Jungkook stared at him.

He took a deep breath.

“Yes, father.” He said with a small smile.

The older man laughed out loud.

“Excellent. Now come, we have a murder to plot. “

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

Author’s Note : Well....now the plot picks up... :D :D feedback is always welcomed !! Come scream with me about how amazing Sera’s father is!!!!

@ladyartemesia @veronawrites @alpaca1612 @bonyg @unseejuice21 @sppvjj @ggukkieland @tae-by-tae @blr1004 @yoongichild @stussyjeon @jellybearo @sumzysworld @carolsummerlove

@bunniechoon @unicornbabylover

@preciouschimine @baekhyunatthehaunted-house @craztextae

@nikkiordonez12

drop me a message if i missed you name for the tag list Thank you.

#jungkook fics #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #bts fics #bts fanfic #jungkook vampire au #bts vampire au #jeon jungkook

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tryingmybestpls · 4 years ago

Text

Not A Team-Part 1: The Start

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The Reader tries to live a normal life, but her memories won’t leave her alone. Rhodey comes to visit the reader with a proposition.

Rating: T

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Talks of death, talks of mental illness, mentions of feeling alone

Four Months Ago

"Y/N, do you think you can tell me why you're here?" The female therapist asks, clicking her one before setting it down on her notepad. The ex-hero shifts on the charcoal grey couch, wanting to be anywhere but here. While she knows that the room should be sort of calming, but it has the directly opposite affect on Y/N. Her stomach is twisting in knots and she feels like her breakfast is going to come up.

"I was told I had to come here." Y/N replies, looking down at her chipping burgundy nail polish. There was hardly any color left on her nails, but what was left was stubbornly holding on, a constant reminder of what she had painted them for.

"Yes, but why were you told to come here?" The doctor-whose name was escaping Y/N at the moment-pushes, shifting in her own seat. Y/N continues to stay silent, which makes the therapist sigh, "Look Y/N, you have to be here. The only way you are able to get out of this is when I am able to determine that you aren't a danger to yourself or others. The government needs to know that you are okay. It's apart of the Acco-"

"I-I messed up. I messed up bad." Y/N cuts her off, wanting to get this all over as quickly as possible.

It's the understatement of the century. I messed up bad. That's what you say when you crash your car or get too drunk and text your ex. "Messing up bad" doesn't land you in court mandated therapy. No, Y/N hadn't "messed up bad", but she couldn't say what she had actually done. Even if she couldn't get the words out of her mouth, she was well aware if she had done. The smell of burning flesh used to be something she would wear like a perfume. Now it threatens to invade her nose, forcing her to go back to that night. Y/N tries her best to ignore it, but it's so hard to forget a smell like that.

"And when you say mess up-"

"I used my powers and people got hurt." Y/N answers, her hands getting hot. She glances down, trying to will away the heat and the fire that will surely follow. The therapist writes down a few more notes. Y/N finds herself hating the way the pen scratches at the paper, the sound almost deafening.

"Is it hard to control your powers?" The doctor asks, to which Y/N immediately shakes her head. She looks back up at the therapist, clasping her hands tightly together. Y/N is trying to look as normal and okay as possible, hoping that the therapist believes her little act.

"No. It-They're just slightly influenced by my emotions and I was just really emotional that day." Y/N replies as she feels the heat move away from her hands. She shifts on the couch, hating the attention she's getting right now, hating the way the therapist's eyes seem to notice every little movement and thought. The therapist writes that down, nodding.

"Why were you so emotional, Y/N?" The woman questions. The ex-Avenger looks back down at her hands, her wedding ring shimmers in the light that's streaming through the windows. Just seeing it makes her stomach sink, her throat tightening with that same emotion.

Now

Y/N has always hated silence.

It's the reason why she loved being in the city so much. It was constantly awake. There was never a moment of silence, no the city was always screaming and shouting. Y/N had welcomed the sound with open arms. Even when the Avengers moved out of the city and went upstate, it was still loud. Everyone kept different hours, everyone had different tasks so the base was never completely quiet. Life on the run with Steve, Sam, Wanda, and Nat wasn't quiet either. The five of them were a family, always constantly talking and bickering.

But now, she lived alone.

It was raining out today. The incessant pounding of the water droplets against the roof and the ground outside provided a much needed melody as Y/N moved around the house. Boxes still littered the rooms, precariously stacked on top of each other. She's been leaving here for a while, but some boxes she can't bring herself to unpack. For example, the large one in the middle of the living room that was labeled "WEDDING DRESS + BOUQUET" was now being used as an impromptu side table. Another one that was shoved into the second bedroom had "PICTURES FROM COMPOUND" scrawled on the side in sharpie. She doesn't think she'll ever open that one, not knowing how she handle all of those memories.

Y/N forces herself to pick up one of the boxes in the kitchen, this one labeled "WINTER CLOTHES". Usually, she would be outside tending to the garden (her therapist had told her that she needed a hobby to keep herself busy) or doing small tasks that needed to be done. However, because of the rain she was stuck inside with all the boxes that she had yet to unpack. The box is heavy, most of the weight most likely coming from her bulky winter coats.

Y/N had left the city she had loved so much, packing up her life to move to a small little house upstate. The city didn't feel like home anymore. Living in Steve's apartment without him felt wrong. It had never felt like home, didn't feel like she belonged there. They never lived at the apartment together, they didn't share any memories here. No, this place was all Steve. She was constantly surrounded by Steve-his things, his memory, his smell. It was suffocating, being surrounded by a man that had abandoned you.

Five years she was gone. Five years he had grieved and mourned over her and then-almost immediately when Y/N came back, Steve decided he didn't want to stay with her. He didn't tell her what he was going to do. Maybe he knew that if he had, she would've tried to talk him out of it. Y/N knows that she would've begged for him to stay with her. She was a. proud woman, but she wasn't proud enough to beg.

She had expected him to come back to her. Y/N thought he was going to return the stones and come back. She had thought they were going to be able to continue where they had left off, they were going to able to be together after all this time. They were finally going to be able to settle down and start that family that Steve had always hinted at. Get a house with a white picket fence and get a cute little dog. The fucking American Dream.

And then he had came back as an old man, with a gold wedding band that she hadn't given him on his finger. Steve gave Sam his shield and his legacy, no longer able to carry the mantle of Captain America. And Y/N-well Y/N's world just crumbled around her, her dreams shattering because Steve decided that he was going to move on.

She still loved him, she even still loves him now. It was impossible not to love him, even though he had left her behind. Y/N tried her best to hate him-told herself that Steve had betrayed her and that he didn't want her. She tried to tell herself that Steve didn't even love her, because if he had loved her why would he be so willing to abandon her, especially after he had just got her back? It didn't matter how much he hurt her or what he did to her, Y/N's heart would always belong to Steve whether she liked it or not.

Feeling incredibly conflicted, Y/N had forced herself to stay her by husband's side as he got sick. She didn't ask for an apology, even as Steve told her over and over that he was incredibly sorry for what he did. Y/N knew that he wasn't actually sorry because if he was actually sorry, he wouldn't have lived an entire life with Peggy. She wouldn't tell him how hurt she was or how looking at her wedding ring made her feel sick now. No, Y/N had played the role of the dutiful wife. She held his hand as his condition worsened and made sure his affairs were in order. Her feelings didn't matter as she tried to make his last days more comfortable.

And then he died.

Steve died, leaving her behind. She didn't dare talk about what had happened, what he had put her through. Y/N, even with all of the bullshit he had put her through, didn't want to tarnish his legacy. Steve Rogers was a hero and she wasn't going to be the one that ruined that for everyone. Even Sam tried to ask her if she was okay and she had just brushed it off, telling him that she was glad that Steve had picked him to carry on the legacy attached to the shield he had received.

Y/N had tried to carry on after Steve was buried, but it was hard. She was dropped into a world where all of her friends were gone, a world that had moved on without her. It was a world that she didn't belong in and she knew it. Y/N tried her best to return to normal, but she quickly learned that there was no such thing as the normal she was used to. Everything felt wrong, felt off in some minuscule way that made her unable to adapt to regular life again.

Y/N just kept bottling up her emotions, the pressure continuing to build up as the days went on. She was drowning it and there was no life preserver in sight. Everyone else went back to normal, going back to school or getting a job or finding ways to get busy. Y/N knows that she should've gotten help, that she should've tried talking to someone, but she didn't. Maybe a part of her didn't want to admit there actually was a problem, that Steve hadn't been the perfect husband and she felt abandoned by the man she married.

And that had led to her completely losing it.

Y/N would later be told that it was a nervous breakdown. A nervous breakdown. She felt-and still feels-like that name wasn’t what she experienced. It was so much more than just a nervous breakdown.

It had led to innocent people getting hurt, people that hadn't cause her pain, people that were most likely suffering just as much as she was. Her emotions were just too high and her powers-her powers decided to act on her impulses and her feelings. She had just been so God damn angry at Steve-

Y/N has to drop the box she was holding, her hands growing hot. She mutters curse words as she hears what sounds like glass shattering inside the box as she forces herself to calm down. She does the breathing exercise that the therapist had told her to do, attempting to rein in her emotions. Her eyes shut, breathing in through her nose, and out through her mouth. Y/N tries to pull the heat back inside of her, but it just won't go back in.

Her heart is beating fast in her chest as she quickly moves back into the living room, her feet carrying her to the front door. Her bright red hand grabs ahold of the doorknob, throwing the door open.

The rain is much louder now, making it almost hard to see with how much is coming down. It hits the ground violently, a cold wind trying its best to cool Y/N off, to no avail.

She quickly walked down the steps of the porch as the heat crawled up her arms, her temperature rising. Y/N knows she won't have the time to take off her clothes and she also knows that she's gone past the point of attempting to rein her powers in. Her hands catch first, bright yellow and orange flames quickly covering her skin, coating them until no skin remained.

The flame crawls over her body, burning away her clothes before the flames take over her entire body. The rain turns into steam as soon as it hits her fire covered body, a cloud surrounding her. Y/N feels more relaxed as the flame licks at her skin, covering her from head to toe. It's easier to calm down after she does this, getting some of those stronger feelings released in order to return back to normal.

Hours later while she is in the middle of cooking, someone knocks on her door. Y/N sighs softly, putting her slotted spoon back down on the counter, quickly wiping her hands on a dishcloth. She makes her way to the front door, not bothering to look through the peephole before she opens the door.

Rhodey stands before her, dressed in far more causal clothing that he usually is in. Y/N's eyes are immediately drawn to the thick manila folder in clutched tightly in his hands. He gives her a small smile. Y/N knows that he isn't just here to visit. No one ever comes to visit.

"Hey." Rhodey says gently, almost as if he's testing the waters. They haven't seen each other in a few months, not since the events that had led her to moving all the way out of here, not since she got out of the psych ward she had voluntarily gone to after her accident. Voluntarily is the wrong word here. The US Government had all but strong armed her into going.

"Hi. Uh-Here, come in. It's cold out." Y/N responds, opening the door a little wider. Rhodey's smile grows as he steps inside. He stops for a moment, looking around at her home. It's small, almost more of a cottage than an actual home. He takes note of the lack of any personal items, no pictures out on display, no tchotchkes. Boxes still litter the living room even though she's lived here for a few months.

"It looks good. Real cozy." Rhodey comments as Y/N shuts the door. She nods, giving him a polite smile as she moves past him to go back into the kitchen.

"Why'd you come by? I know it isn't for dinner." Y/N cuts straight to the point. She doesn't even bother looking at him as she checks to see if her pasta is ready. Rhodey's smile falters for a moment while she strains the pasta. He clears his throat, quickly regaining his composure.

"I-Well I stopped by because I wanted to talk to you about something." Rhodey walks into her kitchen, leaning against the counter as she pours the pasta back into the now empty pot. Y/N holds out her hand for the folder, which he immediately hands over. She flicks through it, seeing the plans for an exhibit honoring her husband. Rhodey shifts slightly as he sees her eyebrows knit together. As she goes through the pictures, she can see that it wasn't in the preplanning phase. They had their exhibit ready, all done up with a fresh paint job.

She's seen the exhibit before. Y/N had teased Steve constantly over it, thinking it was the funniest thing that he had a whole exhibit dedicated to him, a man who couldn't even use a cell phone. Steve told her once that he didn't mind the teasing, told her that it was one of his favorite things about her.

But that was then and this is now.

"The Smithsonian wants to expand their exhibit on Steve. I don't exactly see why this has anything to do with me." Y/N's eyes catch on a picture of her and Steve at their wedding, big stupid smiles stretched across their faces. The page notes possibly names for this part of the exhibit, all of them making that emotion crawl up into her throat.

"They want you to speak at the opening. You and Sam." Rhodey answers, watching as her face drops. Y/N closes the folder, still looking down at it. The papers suddenly feels like they're a million pounds, weighed down so many memories. For a second, Rhodey gets his hopes up, thinking that she is actually considering it.

"Get someone else to do it." Y/N tells him, handing the folder back over to the man. Her voice is a lot colder than it was before and her friend could practically see Y/N building her walls back up. Rhodey sighs, holding it for a moment before setting it down on the counter.

"They want people who knew him, Y/N."

"Then get someone else because I sure as hell didn't." She snaps, the fire on the stove growing. Y/N quickly shuts off the burners, shaking her head, "Ask Barnes, ask literally anyone else."

Rhodey opens his mouth before shutting it. He didn't know how to respond. He knew that his friend was upset, but as soon as Steve did what he did, she had shut herself off. Rhodey had tried and tried to get through to her and after what she had did...Rhodey knew she was going through a lot and that Y/N wouldn't tell him or anyone else how she was feeling. She just wasn't that type of person, never has been.

Y/N swallows the lump in her throat that threaten to swell up, serving Rhodey a plate full of food without him asking if he wants one. She ignores all the memories that flash in her mind, trying to keep it together. She hands the plate to Rhodey without saying a single word before serving herself . Y/N grabs them both drinks and napkins, moving around the kitchen in complete silence. They both sit down at her little table, the only sounds being the two of them breathing and their forks hitting their plates.

"How are you doing?" Rhodey breaks the silence, looking across at her. Y/N pushes her food around her plate, shrugging her shoulders.

"Doing better. I go to therapy once a week like I'm supposed to. It's-It's a lot easier to breathe out here." She replies, setting her fork down. Rhodey gives her a small smile.

"I'm glad you're doing better. I'm sorry I haven't been checking in on you. I know you wanted space and some time." He says softly, to which Y/N shakes her head, taking a sip of her drink. She knew that Rhodey felt guilty over her situation, but the man has enough on his plate. He doesn't need to adding 'taking care of Y/N' to his long list of tasks.

"You've been busy. There's a lot of rebuilding that needs to be done and you shouldn't have to be checking in on me." She looks up at him attempting to give him some peace of mind, "I'm doing better, I promise."

It wasn't the biggest lie she's ever told. She was doing better, but she still wasn't herself. Although, Y/N didn't know if she could ever return to being herself pre-Blip. Before all of this shit, she had Steve to lean on. Now...well now she didn't have anyone, and she didn't want to burden any of her friends with her issues. They had their own shit they were going through. They didn't need to deal with hers.

Later on, long after dinner had finished and the rain decided that it was done working for the day, Rhodey stood up from his spot on the couch. Y/N smiled warmly at him, walking with him to the front door. When they step outside onto the porch, the night air is cool and calm, the lovely smell of rain surrounding them.

"Y/N, I just wanted to say that I didn't want to ask you. I know-I know you're still healing. They told me I had to ask, but I didn't want to. I just want you to know that." Rhodey suddenly announces, turning towards her. Both of them were barely illuminated by the porch lights and the light spilling out from her front door. Y/N nodded, that lump in her throat returning.

"I know. I know, Rhodey." She replies, her voice cracking slightly. Y/N stands there for a moment, both of them looking at each other before she decides to throw her arms round him. Her friend is a little surprised by the action, but hugs her back happily. Y/N shuts her eyes for moment, resting her chin on his shoulder. He rubs her back soothingly, wondering if this is the first hug she's had since Steve's funeral. They pull part, once again looking at each other.

"You take care of yourself okay? I'm going to try to come and visit more, but I need to take care of yourself." Rhodey tells her, giving her a kind smile, "And don't be afraid to text, okay? You can tell me about anything, it doesn't even have to be important."

"I'll be sure to text you all about the growth of my sunflowers and whether or not I am capable of fixing a sink." She teases, which makes the man laugh.

"That's all I ask. It was nice seeing you Y/N." Rhodey tells her, making his way down the steps of his porch. Y/N leans against one of the posts, wrapping her arms around herself.

"It was nice seeing you too." Y/N responds as she watches him walk over to his car. He gives her a small wave before climbing inside. She stays on the porch until he drives away, not moving until she can no longer see his tail lights.

Y/N relaxes her shoulders, sighing softly as she turns on her heel and walks back inside. The ex-hero shuts and locks her door. She walks back into the kitchen, gathering the discarded and used plates. As she is putting them in the sink, her eyes land on the manila folder resting on the counter.

Y/N knows that Rhodey most likely deliberately left it behind. She reaches out and picks it up again, a picture slipping out and falling into the floor. Y/N bends over to grab it, holding it gently between her thumb and forefinger. She flips it over, being greeted with the sight of her husband smiling back at her. Y/N knows the picture well-it's one she took.

She finds herself smiling back at him, her finger tracing over the image. She took it after a mission. Steve's hair is a mess from his helmet, his face dirty and he has a split lip. The shield is propped up in the seat beside him and he's just smiling at her. He looks incredibly tired, but he's still smiling at her. This is the Steve she fell in love with, the Steve that had promised to give the world. The one she had seen herself raising a family with.

Y/N leans against the counter, resting the photograph beside the open folder. She flicks through it again, her eyes studying the exhibit dedicated to her and her relationship with Steve Rogers. 'Two Heroes United' was the name they ended up on. It makes tears brim in her eyes as she looks over all of the pictures that make up this part of the exhibit. While normally she didn't like sharing her personal relationships with the world, this felt okay somehow, it felt almost cathartic.

She shuts the folder, taking another glance at it. Her finger traces the embossed Smithsonian logo on the cover of it. If she did it, she wouldn't be doing it alone. If Sam could do it, it couldn't be that bad.

Right?

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #tfatws

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squishneedsahero · 4 years ago

Text

Shattered

Broken Things to Mend

Part 1 of 1

Word Count: 5998

A soulmate au where you have the first sentence your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your body in their handwriting.

TW: Abuse, neglect and starvation mentions (I’m sure theres more pls let me know if I need to add anything)

You were roughly thrown into a cell and the door shut behind you with a snap, exhausted you fall to your knees and stay on the floor rather than trying to fight your way back out. You were tired, so, so tired. Your body ached, cuts and bruises littered every inch of your skin, mere hours ago you had felt invincible but now you were nothing but broken. You collapsed to your knees and cried on the floor wondering how you had fallen so far.

Here you were locked in a cell on Asgard, and here was where you were going to stay until the humans had something properly set up to contain you. Why you had tried to take over that planet you weren't quite sure, tired of feeling weak had lead you down a dark path. A path from which you couldn't return, and had been regretting as you walked down it. But you couldn't stop yourself and now it was too late.

Broken was the only way to describe yourself, you had been broken for millennia and had finally thought you could piece yourself back together when you'd found the infinity stone. The power stone. You'd thought yourself strong enough to use its power, to stop those who had hurt you and others who wanted to hurt innocents in their paths. You had soon found you weren't strong enough, you were alone and it had corrupted your mind, having no one to anchor you to reality. That's when he had shown up. The purple Titan set on reforming the universe, making it a better place, and in your broken state of mind his plan had made sense, you had agreed to help him, to take out the biggest threat in his way.

You had failed, you had lost to that group called the Avengers and soon enough Thanos would be coming after you himself to remove any loose ends. You weren't the first he had sent but you were most likely the last he'd send on their own without him to lead them directly. He'd only kept you because you were able to hold the power stone in your hands and not be destroyed, someone broken who he could control who could keep the stone safe until he was able to wield it himself.

As soon as he'd seen you failing to take earth he had taken the stone from you and left you for dead. Once you were no longer in possession of the gem you had come back to your senses, seen all the havoc you'd wreaked upon that innocent planet. But it was too late, you were already the enemy and they'd never understand if you tried to explain. So you had fought, continuing to try and protect yourself and your life until they had finally overcome you.

Now you were sitting in a cell, back to yourself but now shattered rather than having just a few chips on your broken soul. You'd ben controlled and manipulated your entire life, by those who claimed to be your friends and family, but it was only ever for the power which you had. Seemingly the last of your species, dark and wraith-like nothing more than a wisp of what you could be and easy to control. A child who could wield the power of the infinity stones, any powerful person would want you in their control.

All of that manipulation had left you more than a little broken, to the point that as soon as you had actually been able to get your hands on that gem you'd instantly turned on them. Then you'd gone after all the others who had manipulated you and dictated your life. You'd been passed from hand to hand as a slave would be, malnourished to keep a leash on you. Sometimes you were sold, other times traded, but mostly those who had been holding you were attacked and killed so that somebody new could control you.

Despite having wielded the infinity stone less than a day before you were back to that state you had been in. The stone had been the only thing sustaining your life and making you seem to be anything more than someone who'd been a broken child and was now a broken adult. You fall asleep on your place on the floor in that cell on Asgard, you were powerless to do anything and you knew it, sleeping was the only way you'd be able to ignore the crushing guilt you felt for all you had done.

All too soon you're woken up, the drapes over the glass door of your cell being opened wide and exposing you to the glaring lights. You preferred the dark as any wraith would, it was your natural state to be in the dark, so natural that the light almost hurt. Once you're awake you look over your thin arms and legs, the bruises and cuts from the fight before all healed, thats why they'd opened the drapes, you'd had enough time to heal in the dark but they didn't want to leave you in the dark. The darkness brought you power, not as much power as that gem had, and not as Much as any sort of nutrients would but it had allowed you to heal.

After your eyes finish lingering on the elegant script on your forearm you pull your sleeve to cover it and look up. Across the hallway was another cell, this one containing a raven haired man, his gaze fixed on you and not breaking even when you meet his stare with your own. He looks to be in good shape and everyone else there would think so as well, but you were able to see the haze of magic over his room. You couldn't see through it, you didn't know what he was hiding but there was something he was keeping from prying eyes and you could only applaud him for being able to protect himself in such a way.

~~~~~

Loki had looked up from his book when the drapes across the prison hall were drawn away from the cell they'd been covering from his view. Inside was a person most unusual, a wisp of a being, with grayish skin and sunken eyes which had seen so many things. What were they? He asked himself, intrigued as he'd never seen anything like them before. He's surprised when they meet his eyes and don't look away immediately as anyone else would. The few moments of eye contact are brief as the figure gets up off the floor and seemingly drifts over to their cot.

Peculiar, a long dark robe covered their grayish form, ending a foot or so from the ground revealing no legs or feet touching the floor. There was a faint cloud of dark mist that seemed to surround them, which pooled around where their feet should have been. This was their natural form, no magic concealed who they were as he did with himself. He watches as they take a seat on their cot, the mist around them gathers and forms some spindly legs. Intriguing, now that he had seen that he couldn't unsee it, their entire form seemed to be made of mist, there but not really there, but by the way they sat thy definitely has a solid form in there somewhere.

~~~~~

You'd moved to your cot, hoping that movement would break the stranger's eye contact but when you sat and turned around his gaze was still fixed on you. You hated being perceived, anytime someone looked at you there was a thirst to their gaze, a desire as they wanted to own you. His gaze was different though, more curious than wanting to control you. It eased you ever so slightly, but you still hated it, so you stared back.

Most wouldn't hold your gaze for long before breaking it, they found you horrible to look at with your grey skin and sunken eyes. You weren't always like that though, when you'd had the power stone you had found your true form, what you'd look like if you had been properly taken care of and healthy. Even then, in your true form, people wouldn't hold your gaze, you were no longer the disgusting monster you were currently but they could see the inside. Your grace and power which flowed off of you in that form intimidated them and they'd look away, but this man didn't.

You stare back at him, allowing yourself to break eye contact knowing intimidation and fear would get him to stop, so let him look at the monster you were. You were the most horrible creature someone could set eyes on in their lifetime, if he wanted the sight of you burned into his retina who were you to stop him? So instead you take your own turn to observe him, taking in his features, taking time to notice more than just the raven hair that flowed to his shoulders. His emerald eyes were the first thing which you noticed besides the hair, but it wasn't so much the color that intrigued you it was the pain and loathing you could sense behind them. He did well to hide it but not from you, you had seen that look in your own eyes too many times to not recognize it.

Who knows how long the two of you spend staring at each other across that hallway, but you both allow it to go on. Him, intrigued by never having seen anything like you before and you staring as the face before you feels familiar. You hadn't spent much time around other beings, recognizing faces was not your strong suit but picking a voice out of a crowd was easy. Finally you place it, you place him. A face you'd seen many times in your nightmares. He was the one Thanos called Laufeyson, the one who had gone before you to earth to try and take over. The other one who had failed. The other one Thanos would come after in his rage. The other loose end was sitting there across the hallway from you.

For some reason the fact that he was also here brought you peace, it brought you hope. Maybe, just maybe he had also been controlled. Maybe he would back you up and make an attempt of explaining who Thanos was and what his plans were worth it. But you could be wrong. He could have done nearly the same thing you did but all of his own accord. He could've enjoyed hurting those people.

It was that thought that prevented you from trying to talk to him through the glass. You keep quiet except for when you're being questioned, then you give nothing but honest answers and they aren't believed so you're questioned again and again, tortured and punished for what they take to be lies. At least they allow you to sit in the dark after you're through with the torture, only long enough to heal, but it's long enough to bring you some solace and block the prying eyes.

The constant pain wasn't anything new to you, everyone who had kept you before this had done the same thing if only for different reasons. They had been scared of you, wanted to hurt you to keep you weak, the Asgardians though, were not scared of you. They wanted information and not to keep you on death's door, so their torture was nothing to you.

It becomes routine for you, one day of torture, one day of darkness and one day of nothing before the cycle begins again. One day you find yourself waiting for the guards to come get you, able to guess nearly down to the minute they would arrive each time, but today they don't come. Why they don't come you haven't a clue, until an hour later when a soldier comes storming down the stairs and the man across the hall gives him directions to somewhere.

Then after more hours pass then another guard, this one a guard of Asgard comes down the staircase and talks to the man across the hall. You watch as the magic haze over his room flickers before steadying out once more, whatever he had just been told upset him, and you could only hope it wasn't Thanos coming for the two of you.

The next morning you gain somewhat of an answer, the broad shouldered blond comes down and speaks to the raven haired man, Thor you believed his name was. He was one of the heroes who had protected earth from you. You're surprised when Loki's illusion is lifted from his cell, revealing the state he is in along with all of the broken furniture that had seemed pristine moments earlier. Then even more surprisingly Thor opens up the cell to release him before turning to face you and making your glass cell wall melt away as well.

"You are a wraith, yes?" he ask and you merely nod.

"A wraith you say?" Loki asks, his curiosity piqued once again by you.

"Brother, I need your help to watch her, she tried to take over Midgard as well, but we need her help," then Thor shoots you a look, questioning silently if you'd help.

You couldn't help but wonder how stupid he was as you nod, signaling you would help. He didn't know you, you were nothing but a monster so how could he so willingly trust you? His hand resting on your shoulder startles you, "very well, Wraith, I can see there is good in you-"

"Even with all those people I killed?" You ask, breaking your silence.

"Yes, I have heard the reports from the guards. You've remained steady in your story that you were manipulated into doing all of that and at this time we need all the help we can get and I'm willing to take the chance," he responds confidently.

You nod, once again, thoroughly confused but willing to follow him and his brother through the halls of the palace until you meet with a woman. "Loki, Wraith, this is Jane Foster- the dark elves are here because of her, the aether as fused with her body and they are trying to take her and destroy the nine realms."

"Are you serious Thor? You think that we stand a chance against the might of the dark elves?" Loki asks, irridiculously with a glance in your direction.

"We do, we have you brother and Jane is stronger than she seems," he tries to rest a hand on Loki's shoulder but the other man dodges the hand.

"What does the Wraith have to do with it?"

"When she tried taking over Midgard she carried the power stone in her hands and did not crumble to dust. The aether is much like the power stone and she should be able to protect it from the elves-"

"And you're just going to trust the fate of the nine realms to two criminals?" Loki asks, sounding like he just wants to argue.

"Yes. We must be getting out of here though," Thor says once again with that same confidence.

He leads the group of the four of you through the halls of the palace, taking some sudden turns and winding your way about until you come to an odd looking ship which he has all of you get in before he starts it up and begins flying all of you out of Asgard to who knows where. Once in the ship Loki turns his attention to you for the millionth time and you, as always, maintain eye contact. For some reason Loki's frustrations seem focused on you as he turns once more to Thor, "you've heard tales of the Wraiths and their power how can you trust this one so easily?!" he sounds outraged.

You turn away from him and take a deep breath, despite not having a reaction to all of the torture the sound of him yelling terrified you more than anything. So many times you'd been shouted at then beaten, scolded then thrown in a room lit so brightly it burned your skin. You needed to focus, try and figure out if Thor was being truthful in his trust of you, or if he was trying a different tactic of manipulating you. All you knew he was telling the truth about was that the woman, Jane, has an infinity stone bonded to her and it is slowly killing her.

You don't even realize that she has taken a seat next to you where you have your head in your hands and tried offering words of comfort. You shake your head, "no, Loki is right, it is foolish of Thor to trust me. I'm a monster who has never left anything but pain and destruction in my path. It may not have been my choice to attack earth but I was so filled with pain that I allowed it to happen and even if I can contain the power of the Aether I do not know how it will effect my mind."

"Useless," Loki spits at you.

Then you stand up, feeling anger as you face him, "I know who you are Loki. Thanos is coming for you just like he is coming for me because we failed to take down his enemies, do not act as though you are better than me, the power stone corrupted my mind because I am weak but I was never given a chance until now to do good and I am taking it even if you doubt me. I've learned the hard way I don't need other's approval."

You were going to continue but it is at this point you realize Loki's expression has changed from one of nearly disgust to shock. His masks had fallen down as he stares at you and you glance at Thor who is also looking at you in shock and by the time you're back to Loki his expression is stone cold once more. "What did you say?" he asks in a low tone.

You'd thought his shout had been bad but this terrified you so much more, he was far too calm. You take a shaky breath and say, more gently this time, "Thanos sent me when you failed. I was easy to manipulate because the power stone took ahold of my mind and he used that, I wouldn't doubt if he did the exact same thing to you-"

"Not that-" he says, that angered tone returning as he snatches your right wrist and lifts your sleeve to reveal your soul mark on your forearm. There, shining gold and beautiful against your grey skin was one word, "Useless."

~~~~~

A much as he hated to admit it the Wraith intrigued him, but the part that hurt, the part that made him feel angered towards them was that Thor had so easily trusted them, a complete stranger. Loki and Thor had been brothers, and sure Thor was an idiot for trusting Loki to help with this situation but him showing trust to a total stranger in the same minute he'd offered a second chance to Loki stung.

This is why he questions Thor, why he snaps at you, it's all a test to see if you truly could be trusted. You much like he had had tried to take over Midgard, you could be a good ally but with the situation at hand how could he know he could trust you. So he pushed, working quickly to find what things set you off, what things got you to break the state of silence you were always in.

He had found it, the one thing that made you angered enough to lash out was him spitting that single word at you. Your reaction had surprised him, how quickly you'd been on your feet and in his face. How your entire countenance shown with a deeply hidden power that it seemed even you were unaware of. But the part that surprised him the most were the words that left your lips as you faced him.

"I know you Loki." You hadn't said it with malice, but as a fact, now you knew him he hadn't a clue. He's in too much shock to hear the next words you say, stating how you won't be useless any longer.

He quickly masks his face once again when he realizes you had stopped speaking. He can't stop the hint of anger that crept into his tone. He was far from angry now, but anger was the only thing that kept anyone from getting close enough to him to see through his walls, "what did you say?" he asks in a low voice.

He sees the hesitation in your eyes as you go to respond, "Thanos sent me when you failed. I was easy to manipulate because the power stone took ahold of my mind and he used that, I wouldn't doubt if he did the exact same thing to you-"

"Not that-" he says but doesn't have the patience to explain. He catches your right wrist in his hand and lifts your sleeve to reveal your soul mark. He doesn't realize that his masks once again drop before you as he stares at the elegant script that covered your forearm. His cold finger runs gently over the word written on your soul, "useless," the first word he had uttered to the one who was his soulmate.

~~~~~

It's as his index finger runs over the mark on your arm that you realize what he has said. The first word he had spoken directly to you, the one that had brought you hope in some of your darkest moments, the one that had also broken you completely, even your soulmate thought you were useless. You can't help it as you snatch your arm away from him, how dare he- How dare he call you useless then stare at your soul mark- Even if he was your soulmate.

You're surprised when he actually lets you walk away to the other end of the ship without stopping you. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you stare at those beautiful yet painful letters on your arm, somewhere in the back of your mind you register Thor and Jane having a whispered conversation. Without turning around you know that Loki hadn't moved from his place and was still staring at your back, damn him why did he have to be like this.

You had only shared looks across that hallway for months, you'd never done anything to warrant him being rude to you in this way and now, knowing as well as he did that your souls were linked hurt. If you weren't already so broken you're sure it would have broken you more, would have been the final straw to tear you apart... There isn't time for you to dwell on that as the ship rocks back and forth, coming into contact with the turbulence of an atmosphere, you were landing and it was time for you to take your chance to do something good with your life. With that thought in your mind you pull your sleeve down to cover your arm again and turn to stride past Loki to the front of the ship.

~~~~~

Loki could only gaze after you when you walked away, he recognized a broken soul when he saw one, it was what he saw in the mirror everyday. He had seen the disdain and hurt in your eyes as you ripped your arm away from his grasp, and knowing you were the one he was meant to spend his life with, the one most likely to love him back and he had already hurt you. The feeling was so much worse than any torture that Thanos could think to inflict upon him.

When they were going in for a landing and you strode past him without a glance it was like a punch in the gut. He had ruined any chance he had of gaining you favor in less than and hour, just because he had to play stupid, stupid, mind games. He just had to try and push your buttons and test you as he always did with anyone he saw a possibility of being useful.

~~~~~

You look at Jane for a moment before gently resting your hand on her shoulder, "I'm going to try and take the aether from you..." you glance at Thor, "if I loose control I want you to do whatever it takes to keep me from hurting more people even if it means killing me." You make eye contact with him for a few moments before asking, "can you please promise me this?" You ask in barely more than a whisper, letting your shields down for once as you ask, you don't care you just don't want anyone to use you anymore.

"I will promise you Wraith, I will not let you bring harm to anyone else," Thor says confidently, though you do notice his glance at Loki.

That allows you to relax, you take your time as you come to a landing on the red desert planet below you to focus your attention on taking the Aether out of the human. By the time you all land you've been able to take it from her it's power flowing through you. This stone is much more subtle than the power stone, you're able to keep control of your own mind when the reality stone latches itself to you.

~~~~~

Loki can only watch as you take the Aether from Jane, hearing you didn't care how Thor stopped you only confirmed his fear he had scared you off with his childish games. Nevertheless as he watches he's amazed with the transformation your body goes through as you harness the power of the infinity stone.

Your grayish skin changes to a more human color, your body fills out, your wispy figure disappearing. The years of abuse disappearing from your form, revealing your true beauty and the confidence someone with your abilities should. He can only stand in awe of you and your appearance as you turn to then step off the ship onto the desert planet.

When he hesitates to follow Thor walks over to him and puts a hand on his shoulder, "brother, it is not too late. You can see through lies, you would know if all that the Wraith has said is true or not. They are clearly as broken as you are, Brother, but they are willing to change. I'm sure that if you do, they also hold forgiveness in their heart." Thor gives him a firm pat on the shoulder as he turns to also leave the ship, "now let us go, and defeat the dark elves before they can take the Aether."

~~~~~

You stand and can see the ship of the Dark Elves' in the distance. If this was your end then so be it, you could finally rest with peace knowing you had aided Thor as some level of recompense for the damage you had caused. Jane comes to stand next to you, breathing deeply as she gently says, "thank you."

"I'm just glad that I am able to help the universe in some way," you respond, your eyes can't help but linger for a moment on her soul mark, on her right forearm where everyone's was. Part of you hoped that Loki wasn't your soulmate, it was only one word and not specific enough to guarantee anything, but you knew that wasn't the case, with the way he had reacted you knew the words on his arm were the first that left your lips when speaking to him.

"I know that you will," Jane says, removing you from your thoughts.

Thats when Thor makes his way down to the two of you, "Jane, you stay here but not on the ship, it is where you will be safest."

"Thor I am not going to just sit back and watch all of this happen, I might not be as powerful as the rest of you but I will be doing my part."

Thor can only nod, and you can see the fond smile he has on his face as he looks at her, "very well, but as soon as the convergence begins I will be placing you back on earth to do your part there." With that he leads the way towards the other ship, not waiting to see if his brother would be joining them. It would be very helpful to have the trickster at their side during this but after the words which had been spoken it made sense that Loki would need a moment.

As you walk Thor asks you if you know what you are capable of. "No, I don't I have been told of the things I can do as a Wraith but I have been kept subdued my entire existence so I haven't learned anything more that what you saw on earth... But I do have control of my own mind at this time," you add trying to make sure he wouldn't misunderstand you.

"It will be enough," he says and once again places a hand on your shoulder, but quickly removes it when you flinch. The group of twenty or so Dark Elves stand a few hundred feet in front of you when Thor speaks again, raising his voice to shout, "Malekith! Today is the day you meet your end, I will not allow you to destroy the nine realms."

"Thor," Malekith responds with a eerie smile on his face, "I thank you for delivering the Aether to me, unfortunately you won't be around to see the realms brought to perfection." It's with that that he points a finger towards your group, signaling for his followers to attack you.

Everything happening flies past, much like it had on earth, you fight alongside Thor using the power of the Aether to aid you, but then you come face to face with Malekith. The Elf has some sort of hold over the Aether and by extension you, he lifts you into the air and begins to take the Aether from you. No matter how you struggle you can feel not just the Aether but also your life slipping away from you, he wasn't taking just the infinity stone but all the power your weak body held. You try and fight, and try to hold on but before it your vision goes black.

You didn't expect too but you're able to open your eyes again hours later, the Aether has left you so you are back to your grey wispy form but your body doesn't ache as badly as you had expected. This planet was dark so it made sense, you'd been able to heal yourself in the shadows. You sit up, your eyes already adjusted to the dark, but just now noticing that there was nothing on the planet around you. There was some rubble of the ship nearby but besides that nothing, no Dark Elves, no Thor, no Jane. You were alone and how exactly you felt about that you weren't sure, you'd never been left so completely alone before.

Your reaction comes slowly, you can only assume that since you are alive you had done your part but it doesn't stop you from crying as suddenly everything sets in. You'd been able to do something good with your life, finally, but as you always had you'd left a trail of loss and destruction behind you. Sure, it was fine the Elves were gone but Thor and Jane had abandoned you here, on purpose or not was unclear. Though, the thing that hurt the most was that you had met your soulmate and you had instantly pushed him away, just for him to do the same. Sure, he had hurt you but you turning your back so quickly once you realized had to have hurt him as well and now you were on this barren planet where you'd eventually die of starvation.

You sit up as you let the tears roll down your cheeks, your hand naturally grasping at the floor for any sort of stability. You're shocked when you don't find that though, you lift your hand to your tear filled eyes and look at the dirt filling your palm. You were outside for one of the few times in your life and something about that calmed your tears, they were still present but weren't flowing as freely. You continued to let the feeling of dirt running through your fingers to ground you, you were finally free even if- no don't think about the long slow death awaiting you here just enjoy the fact that you are free that you could stand up right now and take off running without anyone hunting you down. Thats it- thats what you'll do, you'll run for the first time in centuries and just let the wind blow around you. You stand up, wiping the tears from your cheeks as you take a shaky breath, let out an excited laugh and look ahead of you.

Standing in front of you is him, Loki. You hadn't noticed he was there, how much he had seen of you crying on the ground you had no idea but the fact that he was there created a strange sensation in your chest. "I- Loki I didn't-"

Once again he cuts you off but this time it's much gentler, "no, I need to apologize. I've been captivated by you since the moment I first laid eyes on you then when we were finally able to speak I lashed out with childish games, Wraith-"

It's your turn to cut him off, "my name isn't actually Wraith, it's y/n," you pause and decide to extend an olive branch of your own, "you can just call me y/n."

"Y/n," he says thoughtfully, letting the name flow off of his silver tongue, and once again that strange tightening sensation strikes your chest. "That is a lovely name, y/n," he concludes.

You bite on the tip of your tongue as you look at him for a moment, "I need to apologize as well. I walked away from you without giving you a chance to explain yourself. I know we are little more than strangers and you calling my trustworthiness into question is only logical."

He seems a bit taken aback by your honesty but he smoothly take your hand in his, lifting your sleeve once more to look at your soul mark. "Would you be willing to give me a second chance to make up for my mistake? I have a feeling we are both broken and bruised, similar yet different with much to learn."

You cant stop the small smile that tugs at your lips. You take your hand back from his and take ahold of his right arm, taking your turn to lift his armored sleeve and view the words written there in gold, "I know you Loki," you read them out loud then meet his eyes once more, "I'd be happy to give you a second chance as you call it, as long as you are willing to give me one as well."

The relief behind his eyes is clear to you, but what isn't clear is why he cups your cheeks in his hands. He gently wipes away any remaining tears on your face, "of course I will give you a second chance," he states it gently, but firmly and once again your chest tightens. It was then that he made his intentions with his hands on your cheeks clear, as he used them to pull you into a cautious kiss, that becomes more sure when you return it.

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