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rafey-baby · 1 month ago

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forbidden fruit

Once upon a time there was a princess and a hunter...

snow white!reader x hunter!rafe

c/w: mentions of violence (he holds a knife to her throat & threatens to kill her), her being a naive sheltered princess, him being slightly suggestive? also if it’s not obvious this is *loosely* based on the story of snow white, 18+ mdni!

wc: 3k

ahh the first part is here xx

part two & moodboard

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Do you have a favorite flower?”

The quietness that follows makes her wonder if the brooding man alongside her had heard her question at all.

She’s not entirely certain why the queen had been so adamant that this grumpy huntsman was to accompany her on this peculiar evening walk, when she’s never even uttered a word to him before— doesn’t even know his name.

When she’d asked why they had to go so suddenly and after the sunset had already colored the skyline with its cherry tinge, he’d merely muttered something along the lines of ‘following Her Majesty’s orders’.

She’s well aware of her stepmother’s disdain for her, never quite understanding why her father had married such a cold woman to begin with. However, it has never been in her wishes to upset her any further than she apparently does by simply existing, which is why she’d quietly agreed without much resistance— even if the request had seemed rather strange to her.

“Uh…I dunno, they all sort of look the same to me, Your Highness,” the sudden rumble interrupts her thoughts.

“Oh,” she’s slightly taken aback by the gravel in his tone, offering him her own answer nonetheless. “I love daisies.”

“Right,” he mumbles out; mind apparently lost somewhere else entirely as he keeps leading her deeper and deeper into the grim, bleak woods. With every step she takes, the leafy trees begin to turn into something impending, sinister— their slender branches beginning to resemble bony fingers, merely waiting for the right moment to latch onto her and claw at her arms.

Therefore, she’d much rather hear his voice instead of this daunting lull in their conversation (if she could even call it that). Unfortunately, what she’s gathered from their brief interactions so far, is that the preferred topic of discussion for a man— a hunter like him, is silence.

And that’s something the murky forest around them is already far too generously presenting her with; this late into the day not even the bluebirds chirp their delightful melodies to make the eerily serene atmosphere of this prolonged journey of theirs a little less dreadful.

“What’s, um, what’s your name?” she attempts to have him speak some more.

“Rafe,” he merely offers her a fleeting glance; as if it’s the most tedious thing in the world to even utter out his own name to her.

Rafe.

Upon further observation of the rugged lines of his face, she decides it suits him. What doesn’t suit him, however, is the ever-present scowl staining his (rather handsome) features. It’s almost as if something is tormenting him, acidic, putrid on his tongue.

“Is something wrong?” she questions next, him being vague on purpose not exactly soothing her concerns regarding this entirely too ominous trip.

They’ve been strolling along some path he apparently has in his mind for quite some time now, at this point nearly reaching the very core of the vast forest that surrounds the entirety of the kingdom.

“Everything’s fine,” his tone is gruff— a heavy palm on the small of her back nudging her forward when she momentarily halts her movements.

“Do we have to go so far? M’getting cold,” she complains because even if the palace hasn’t felt like home ever since her dear father’s passing, she wants nothing more now than to return to the thermal fireplace and silky sheets in her bedchamber.

All of a sudden, the snapping of a branch somewhere close causes her to flinch.

In tandem, they both turn towards the noise as it transforms into foreboding rustling of leaves and something akin to footfall against the muddy ground; forcing a shiver to crawl under her skin.

She’s beginning to prepare herself to face some gruesome monster when out of the blue, the smallest white-tailed deer she’s ever laid her eyes upon, pokes its head from behind a tree trunk.

She gasps in adoration; tiptoeing closer to the trembling animal before crouching down.

“Hello there. Why are you here all by yourself?” she asks with a tender coo— mindfully reaching a hand out to pet its ruffled head.

Seemingly liking her, it takes a careful step towards her in a moment of bravery; teddy bear eyes curious.

“Well, aren’t you adorable? I wish I had something for you to eat but I don’t,” she croons out as it nestles its slobbery nose into the hollow of her hand, when all at once, its button eyes dilate and its fleecy ears lift up in alarm.

“Wha—” she doesn’t have the time to finish her sentence before it’s hurriedly scrambling away from her and disappearing into the viridescent foliage in the blink of an eye.

She looks over her shoulder to locate the source of such horror, coming face-to-face with a gleaming blade and Rafe’s threatening eyes fixed on her suddenly immobile form.

“What are you—” her words wither away on her frightened tongue when he abruptly brings the hunting knife to her throat—terror wrapping around her like yarn, tautening around her organs and making her helpless heart thump against her ribcage in a state of hysteria.

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, alright? I promise I’ll make it quick,” he sounds determined, her unnerved eyes rounding out.

“Rafe, you don’t— you don’t have to do this,” she manages out before she feels the harsh edge cut into her delicate skin just the slightest bit— a droplet of crimson trickling down her neck and towards her heaving chest.

His gaze tracks the rivulet as it dribbles down all the way into her cleavage; leaving a scarlet trail to stain her skin in its wake as her pounding head begins to spin.

She sits there on the forest floor, unmoving and unable to properly suck in air through her lungs as trepidation slithers itself into the crevices of her bones; merging into her marrow and turning her limbs into icebound liquid.

“You think I want to?” he mutters out through his teeth.

“I— I don’t understand...why are you doing this?” she squeaks out when he squeezes the handle in his fist— seemingly torn between two alternatives yanking him into separate directions, their claws scraping at both of his arms.

“Cause the queen wants your heart on a platter n’ I’m supposed to be doin’ what Her Majesty tells me to, yeah?” he spits out the title as if it’s rotten; as if it’s tasted acrid in his mouth for a long while now.

“My heart? Why would she want my heart?” she asks with something akin to hurt in her voice; not realizing her stepmother’s hatred towards her branched as far as wanting her dead.

“Cause she’s lost her fuckin’ mind,” he huffs out; still tightly gripping onto the weapon. “...but then you look at me with those fuckin’ eyes and how am I— how am I supposed to…kill that?” he rambles more to himself than her, making her brows knit together even further.

“You don’t— you don’t have to, you can let me go and I’ll— I’ll hide in the forest,” she suggests, voice wavering.

“And freeze to death?” he scoffs.

“I thought you wanted me dead?” she sounds disconcerted.

“I don’t want you dead!” his volume is as clamorous as thunder, frustrated.

“But you’re holding a knife to my throat?” her voice trembles; the frigid steel still imprinting her skin.

“Yeah, cause I’m supposed to fuckin’ kill you, alright?”

“I…I don’t understand,” her tone is a muted whisper and at last, he loosens his hold on the knife— a faint thud echoing in the space between them as it hits the soil covered in moss.

Then, he’s shaking his head, seemingly exasperated with the girl before him. “Talkin’ to fuckin’ deers n’ shit. I mean, who the hell does that?”

“I…I do? They’re my friends, why wouldn’t I talk to them?” she bats her lashes at him, seemingly confused out her innocent little mind.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he lets out bitter scoff. “Now tell me, what am I supposed to do with you, hm?”

“You’re not going to…” she swallows the rest of the words— too vile, brutal for her to say out loud.

“Since you’re makin’ it so fuckin’ hard, no,” he lets out a displeased breath before presenting his palm for her to hold onto.

“Get up,” he orders, nearly glaring at her.

“Oh, um, thank you,” she blinks up at his frowning countenance, gingerly grasping onto his much bigger hand and letting him lift her up with ease.

“Right, uh, why don’t we get you somewhere warm, yeah? You must be freezin’ only wearin’ that dress,” he clears his throat when he notices a tremor rattling through her in tandem with a frosty breeze sweeping past them.

Taken aback by his sudden concern over her well-being, she merely stands there with a blank expression before he flits his eyes over to hers; seemingly expecting a response.

“Oh, um...I think— I think I saw a cottage on our way here,” hesitation tinges her suggestion.

“You did? Where?”

“It was, um…” she pads along the faint traces of their original route she had sidetracked from in order to greet the baby deer— his heavy footsteps following close behind.

“There,” she points her index finger towards a small hut partly hidden away behind old, lush trees.

When they step onto the threshold, she softly knocks on the mahogany door decorated with intricate swirls and designs embedded into the wood.

“Hello? Would it be possible if we could come in to warm up a little bit? It’s terribly cold out here,” she politely asks.

However, they’re not granted any sort of a reply.

“I don’t think anyone’s home,” Rafe notes as he peers through the windows into the unlit interior, before trying his luck and pushing down the handle.

To both of their surprise, the door is unlocked.

“Rafe! We can’t just break into someone’s home,” she scolds him with wide eyes.

“S’not breakin’ in if the door’s open,” he merely shrugs before cautiously stepping inside— having to duck his head since the roof is hanging far too low for his tall figure.

He looks around the compact space, as if to make sure they truly are alone, before glancing over his shoulder at her still tentative form shivering in the doorway. “What are you waitin’ for? Come in. Unless you wanna get sick standin’ out there?”

She feels guilt eat away at her soul when she gingerly steps inside the cozy cabin, feeling far too much like an intruder, even if Rafe doesn’t seem all that bothered by entering a complete stranger’s place of residence without permission.

“Shit, why are these chairs so small?” he complains when the wooden stool creaks under his weigh; threatening to crack as he lights up some candles he found— the walls soon bathing under the burnt-orange flames.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else,” she suggests meekly.

“S’not like we have options to choose from,” he points out; stretching his big arms over his head in an attempt to get comfortable.

“You’re right...I’m sure whoever lives here will understand we needed a place to stay, right?” she tries to convince herself in hopes of brushing her worries under the rug.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Let’s see if they have anything to eat around here,” he dismisses her as he stands tall on his feet once more, before he’s opening and closing the cabinets and cupboards in a search for food.

“Why do they have so many fuckin’ apples in here?” he mindlessly questions when he sees a pile of the red fruit hiding behind one door.

“Oh, I could make you an apple pie?”

He turns to look at her beaming with that sudden grand idea of hers.

“Uh, m’not sure if that’s…”

“Do you not like them?” she sounds nearly concerned, as if not liking apple pies should be considered a crime in the fairytale world inside her skull.

“Nah, I do, I just— shouldn’t we be comin’ up with some plan to keep you safe n’ shit? And not bakin’ pies. We don’t really have all the time in the world before the queen finds out you’re alive,” he mutters out.

“Well, I don’t know about you but I can’t think with an empty stomach. And, um, it would also be a thank you for you sparing my life,” she timidly looks up at him.

He clears his throat at that, seemingly surprised by her sentimentality; feeling unworthy of the gratitude she’s so willingly offering him. “Right, yeah, uh, alright. Well, you do that and I’ll go get us some firewood or somethin’, yeah?”

“That sounds perfect,” she smiles.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Later, when he returns to the cottage, the saccharine smell of oven-baked apples instantaneously whirls around him— holding him in a cinnamon-scented embrace and dragging a grumble from his stomach.

“Oh, you’re back just in time!” she exclaims as she sets down two porcelain plates for them.

“I might’ve went a little overboard with the cinnamon but I hope you don’t mind?” she asks while cutting through the steaming pie that’s making him practically drool.

“Uh, nah, I…love cinnamon,” he murmurs, not sure why he just said that since he doesn’t particularly even like cinnamon. However, he’s certain that nothing that smells like that could possibly taste bad.

“Really? Me too!”

He thinks this is the first time he’s seen her eyes glitter in that way; as if he’s just single-handedly hung the moon or professed his undying love for her. It makes something unfamiliar poke at his insides— scratching at his organs and begging to be let out. However, he decides not to pay it any mind as he sits down on the kitchen chair that’s still entirely too tiny for him.

“Do you like it?” she asks with her gaze glued to his expression when he takes his first bite. She hasn’t even touched her own slice; opting to stare at him instead and momentarily, he wonders why she’s so eager to please him.

“This might just be the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth,” he can’t help but groan out loud in response to the luscious flavors practically melting on his tongue.

She swallows at that, mind seemingly stuck somewhere else entirely before she softly clears her throat. “You, um, you think so?”

“Uh huh,” he hums out with delight before shoving another forkful of softened apple pieces and golden-brown crust into his mouth— a smirk soon blossoming on his face when he catches on to the double entendre of his mindless compliment that apparently turned her all shy.

“Someone’s got a dirty mind,” he chuckles, mocking her.

“I…” she opens and then closes her mouth like a goldfish. “I do not—”

“Alright, you caught me. Second best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth,” he decides to toy with this sweet little princess some more, for some reason wants to see her all flustered; in some crooked way enjoys having an effect on her.

“Um, right…yeah,” she stumbles over her words; eyes flickering towards her plate as she finally digs into her own portion.

He’s all too preoccupied grinning at the way she’s avoiding his gaze when out of the blue, the sight of a bed peeking through the slightly ajar bedroom door catches his attention.

And it’s not so much the piece of furniture that halts his chewing and makes a crease form between his brows, but more so the size of it. It forces his feet to move on their own accord to the room where he’s met with six more beds— just as minuscule as the first one.

At that, he wonders if he really was so caught up with the princess that his brain couldn’t fit the very clear pieces together any earlier.

“Oh shit, I think I know these guys n’ I don’t think they’ll be too happy to see me here when they get back,” he mutters while padding back towards the kitchen.

“What do you mean?” concern paints over her features.

“Nah, nothin’ just…uh, they don’t like me very much, so we gotta leave. I mean, they probably won’t mind you bein’ here all that much. They’re probably real friendly if you don’t piss them off like I have,” he scratches at the back of his head. “What did you do?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Uh, I have this cabin for when I’m hunting, but s’not very close. Think we should be safe there for tonight though. Unless you wanna stay here?”

“No, I wanna go with you. I— I don’t want to stay here alone,” she’s quick to answer.

“You sure?” he raises his brows.

She nods.

“Yeah? S’probably gonna be a few hours on foot. Think you can walk for that long in the woods, princess?” he asks next, his cadence turning into something playful.

“Of course I can. I have two healthy legs,” she sounds almost offended.

“I can see that,” an entertained smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “And you’re not scared of the dark either?” he adds, almost as if testing her.

“Of course not,” she lies through her teeth— eliciting a humored chuckle from him.

“Mm. Could’ve sworn you were getting a little jumpy on our way here, but must’ve imagined it, right?” he drawls out, eyes narrowing in a challenge.

“Yeah…” she doesn’t give in, a smile beginning to pull at her lips to match his own; neither of them seeming to mind when something feather-light takes the place of the once leaden ambience between them.

Momentarily, she wonders why she’d never talked to this strangely captivating hunter before— his blue velvet eyes nearly entrancing, compelling her into an incantation she seems to unconsciously gravitate towards.

However, the spell is soon broken when he takes a step closer to her, leaning over towards the table to blow off the flickering blaze of the candles— a dusky obscurity dancing around them once more.

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honnelander · 1 year ago

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crush

alright, this is such a niche and self-indulgent little piece of writing bc i freaking LOVE this (awful and huge asshole) character buuut i do like to write for whatever i love in the moment sooo here's a little Brad Wolfe aka Hunter X-5 fic (he's cute ok??) (and if you're into marvel and are not watching the loki series, PLEASE go watch it! it's so amazing!) credit to @mrsbawar21-blog for the still!

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2.8

pairing: Brad Wolfe (Hunter X-5) x reader

summary: Mobius could tell Brad knew you a lot better than he was letting on, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

masterlist

taglist: @antrenna @buggy0827 @laviiv @feelinmatcha @ivonarfsh @facelessfionna @deserticwren @shadydeanmuffin

"See? Isn't this nice, Brad?" Mobius asked his beige jumpsuit-claded prisoner as he sipped on his vanilla milkshake, happy as a clam. "I mean, literally ten minutes ago we were at each other's throats, yelling at one another, and here we are," Mobius gestured around with his hands, emphasizing the 1980s McDonald's they were currently sitting in, "sharing a meal like two adults."

"Yeah, and you also tortured me," Brad replied quickly, not missing a beat as he kept his gaze set on the pair of Lokis conversing in the parking lot through the window. He drummed his fingers on the plastic tabletop, bouncing his leg up and down as he quickly glanced at Mobius with a quirked eyebrow. "Forgot to mention that part, huh?"

"Yeah, and you called me a 'nobody'," Mobius rebutted quickly, a hint of irritation dripping from his voice. He stopped himself, shaking his head slightly with closed eyes as he exhaled curtly.

Now wasn't the time to dispute that and the silver-haired TVA analyst knew that arguing with X-5- or Brad, whoever, was a waste of everyone's time and he didn't feel like renewing their earlier verbal scrimmage here when there were more pressing matters at hand. Ultimately, Brad did bring them to Slyvie in the end so that must count for something, right?

"But, that doesn't matter. See, I even bought you a shake," Mobius said, reaching across the table to pick up Bradley's vanilla shake and put it closer to him. "A little peace offering."

Brad's eyes flitted to Mobius' obvious olive branch for a second before looking back up to the analyst, unimpressed. After a beat, he raised his right hand, jabbing an accusatory index finger at Mobius, as he cocked his head to the side, saying, "But you did slap me, right in the face. I'm not gonna forget that."

"Just take the shake, Brad," Mobius said swiftly, slightly exasperated as he suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.

Now, Mobius M. Mobius prided himself on his seemingly never-ending well of patience, but even he felt himself start to get annoyed at Brad's unrelenting persistence on being as difficult as can be. Did he always try to be as annoying as possible or was this just how the ex-hunter always is naturally? It was exhausting.

The former minute man-turned-actor glanced down at the shake again, leaving it untouched before looking out the window to refocus on the Lokis outside. "What- what are they even doing out there?" he asked with a huff, gesturing a hand towards the pair of variants. "It's like they're going over every detail of their relationship or something."

"Yeah, well," Mobius relented with a small sigh, taking another sip of his shake. "There's a lot of baggage to unpack when you're basically in a relationship with yourself," he explained casually like he was talking about a bad day at the office.

Brad picked up on the slight disdain in his captor's tone but he didn't care enough to broach the topic any further. Instead, Brad sighed in slight disgust as he resumed drumming his fingers on the table saying, "God... it's weird."

Not wanting to harp on his partner's unorthodox romantic relationship any more than he had to, Mobius picked up a plastic fork, getting ready to dig into his pie. "Now, why don't you tell me a little bit more about your movie, huh?"

Brad rolled his eyes and scoffed at Mobius's obvious deflecting technique. "What about it?"

"Tell me about all about it." The analyst took a forkful of pie, asking with an encouraging smile, "Is it a horror flick?"

"Oh, come on, Mobius. You don't care."

"No, really! I'm serious," he said through a mouthful of pie. "The poster we saw looked scary."

Not being one to pass up discussing his work and real life that awaited him back on the sacred timeline, Brad took the bait. "It's not scary... it's elevated thriller," he explained in a slightly matter-of-fact tone, waving his hand around for emphasis. In a condescending tone, he added, "It's cinema, thank you very much."

Mobius had no clue if there really was a difference between a scary movie and an 'elevated thriller', since it all sounded the same to him, but he appreciated Brad's enthusiasm on the topic.

Lifting his milkshake up to his mouth to try and hide his amused smirk, Mobius relented, "Oh, my bad. You're right... 'elevated thriller', got it." He nodded as he took a sip, putting his cup back down when he was finished. "I'll have to check that out then."

"And you have to get your own ticket!" Brad continued. "I'm not hooking you up. Especially not after all of," he waved his hands around at their current setting, "this."

"Right, of course," Mobius agreed patiently, watching Brad with a small smile. "I'll get my own tickets."

After his small spiel, the ex-hunter let out a small sigh. He blinked, a look of recognition overcoming his face as he straightened up like he was remembering the situation he was currently in.

He turned his torso to face Mobius head-on, putting his arms on the table and motioning towards the TVA analyst's meal. "Look, why don't we get this all to go, huh? It- it packs right up. Why don't we just- get it to go, so we can get out of here," he said, emphasizing the second half of his sentence as he mimicked packing something up and motioned towards the exit.

"We can't do that," Mobius rejected quickly. "Not yet, anyway. I haven't finished eating and besides, y/n hasn't even gotten her food yet," he added, jabbing a thumb over at you, who was loitering by the cashier in the front, hands on your hips as you looked up at the menu.

Brad followed Mobius' thumb, huffing out another irritated sigh at your figure and rolling his eyes. "She's still ordering? We don't have time for this- God," he muttered under his breath and slumped in his chair, rubbing his jaw. "She always takes forever to do anything," he added with a mumble.

However, Brad's little admission right there didn't escape Mobius' keen ears. Trying to keep casual, he dug back into his pie. "'Takes forever to do anything', huh?" he asked nonchalantly. "It kinda sounds like you know a lot about y/n."

Brad's eyes flashed to Mobius's briefly before looking elsewhere, shifting in his plastic seat. "Yeah, well, she's your partner, isn't she?" He glanced out at Loki for a second, "Or, at least one of them? You should know how slow she can be sometimes."

The silver-haired analyst shook his head once. "She's not slow. I prefer the term meticulous, actually."

For whatever reason, Brad felt the need to clarify himself, which Mobius couldn't help but find interesting since he knew X-5 to be a guy who always brazenly said what was on his mind no matter the circumstances.

"I didn't mean slow as in stupid," Brad quickly clarified. "I-I meant as in she just takes a long time to do anything."

"Uh-huh," Mobius replied simply, secretly enjoying how bent out of shape the man in front of him was getting. "Right."

"Yeah..." Bradley trailed off, finally picking up his forgotten shake and taking a long sip of it, avoiding Mobius's expectant gaze. After a few beats of silence, he put his shake back on the table, looking over at Mobius with an annoyed glance. "What?"

"Nothing," Mobius replied easily, looking over at Brad once again before looking back at his food, munching on a fry. "I just think it's interesting how you know how 'slow' y/n can be sometimes, that's all."

"Look," he looked back at Mobius, a hint of irritation (and embarrassment?) in his features. "Whatever little 'thing' you're trying to imply here between me and her, just drop it."

Mobius perked up, looking back at his prisoner. There it was again, Brad's peculiar choice of words. "'Drop it'? Don't you mean 'give it up'? Since 'giving up' would imply that there's absolutely nothing there, whereas 'dropping it' would mean that something is there but you just don't want to talk about it?"

Brad sat up. "Drop it, give it up- whatever Mobius, just stop talking about it."

A smile started to creep up on Mobius's face, finding joy in all of this. This little impromptu interrogation was turning out to be a lot more fun than the last one he had with the actor. "'It'? So there's an 'it' now? What's 'it'? Do you mean your little crush on y/n?"

The actor's body stiffened for a nanosecond before turning to fully face the analyst. "Mobius, I swear to God-"

"OH! So that's a 'yes'!" Mobius declared, hitting the tabletop playfully with a grin, his smile only getting wider at seeing Brad become more and more agitated. "You do have a crush on y/n! Aw, that's so adorable Bradley, really."

The ex-hunter leaned back in his chair, scrunching up his face as he looked to away. "'A crush'? Really, Mobius? What are we- five? Please."

"Oh, so you love her?"

Brad's eyes widened, snapping back to look at him. "What? No, I don't-"

"Oh, that's ok," Mobius reassured with a wave. "Maybe your crush on her will blossom into love one day, who knows? I mean, life is crazy right?" He got another forkful of pie as he said, "I just can't believe that you had a crush on my partner this whole time and I didn't even notice. What kind of analyst am I?"

Mobius shook his head, laughing at his own joke. It seemed so obvious to him now. He should've realized that X-5 had some type of feelings for his long-time work partner eons ago. He always thought it was strange how X-5 would randomly stop to chat with them, well, with you mostly he now realized, at seemingly random times throughout the day, like when you both were having lunch in the cafeteria or how X-5 would always be the minute man to volunteer and be the muscle for one of your missions if need be. He had always thought it was weird and strange, but now it just made sense.

"Mobius," Brad said, letting out a defeated sigh. "Can you just, drop it? Please?"

Mobius looked back up, eyebrows raised as he looked up at the former minute man. "And now you're saying 'please'? Wow, you're just full of surprises today Bradley, aren't you?" he asked with a disbelieving laugh. He watched as Brad slunk back into his seat, a resigned look on his face. Ever the kind soul, Mobius kinda felt kinda bad for him. "Hey, look," Mobius started, in a softer tone, "X-5, Brad, Bradley, whatever you want to be called, your secret is safe with me, alright? I won't tell her, I promise."

The movie star was quiet for a moment, sucking on his teeth. Even though he personally might not like Mobius, he did know that Mobius was a man of his word and kept his promises so, he had no choice but to trust him. "Yeah, well... thanks," he said, flashing the analyst with a quick look of gratitude as he rapt his knuckle on the table.

"Hey, no problem," Mobius said, regarding the man across from him for another moment before finishing up his pie. With a small, surprised laugh, Mobius said, "You know, I just think it's funny how a," jerk, he thought to himself, "guy like you ends up with a little, school-yard crush on such a kind and caring person like y/n."

Brad raised an eyebrow at Mobius's choice of words. "'A guy like me'? Liking someone like her? What is that supposed to mean Mobius?"

"Oh, nothing," he replied innocently. "I just think it's funny. I guess, in this case, opposites really do attract, huh?"

"Oh, what? Now you're calling me a jerk?" Brad started, ready to go at it with Mobius again. "Why don't you just-"

"Hey, guys," you said, finally arriving at the table with a brown to-go paper bag with your food, sliding into the seat next to Mobius, your partner, unknowingly stopping the argument that was about to take place. "Sorry I took so long. There were just so many options to choose from, you know? It was hard to decide."

Now that Mobius was keen on Brad's little crush on you, he couldn't help but want to mess with him even further. "Ah that's ok y/n, I know that sometimes those things can be a little slow," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards when Brad sent him a glare. "So don't worry about it."

"No word from Loki yet?" you asked, completely oblivious to the invisible sparing match occurring between the two men. "They're still out there?" you asked as you leaned on the table, craning your neck to try and see the two variants better.

"No, nothing yet. Hey, y/n," Mobius said suddenly, hitting your shoulder slightly like he had just come up with a great idea. "Why don't you move and sit next to Brad? I think he has a better vantage point to see them than I do," he innocently suggested, sending Brad a good-natured wink.

Brad nearly face-palmed himself. He forgot that Mobius could sometimes be as subtle as a baseball bat. "Mobius," he warned lowly.

But the mentioned analyst continued unphased. "And while you're sitting over there, watching the Lokis, you know, next to Brad," he added again for emphasis, "you can eat your meal."

"Oh, no need," you answered easily, to which question, the guys didn't know. "I got my food to go."

"See?" Brad quickly straightened, a newfound urgency in his tone and movements are he looked back and forth between you and Mobius. "She's smart, she got her food to go, to have back at the TVA. Which is exactly where we all need to be. Right now. Let's go."

"Jeez, Brad, what is it with you?" He asked exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. "You're like a broken record. First, you're all like, 'get me back to the sacred timeline' and now you're all like, 'get me out of here'." He shook his head. "It's like you-"

"Know something," you said, cutting off Mobius' train of thought, your eyes looking at your beige jumpsuited prisoner with a calculating gaze.

At your words, Mobius stopped his spiel, blinking as he leaned back in his seat, his eyes looking over at Brad in thought. "Do you know something?" he asked.

Brad, however, stayed quiet. He picked up his milkshake, swirling it around before taking a couple of sips as he turned his body away from you both, looking out the window.

"Hey," Mobius said a little more firmly, slapping the actor's forearm to get his attention. "Don't get all quiet on me now, Zaniac. What do you know? Is this a setup?"

"It's an ambush," you said.

But Brad continued to suck on the straw, not looking at either of you.

"Bradley, answer me," Mobius said forcefully.

Brad put his milkshake down, swallowing the sweet treat before looking at you. "We need to get out of here," was all he said.

You held eye contact with him, discerning the urgency and panic you saw held within his gaze. You couldn't help but feel that when Brad had said 'we', he really only meant you and him. His look and words sent a shiver down your spine.

Mobius was the first to get up, the rest of his meal forgotten. "Alright, let's go. We need to regroup with Loki so our friend Brad here can tell us what's really going on." He picked up his tray, walking over to the trash to dump the rest of his fast food scraps away, and put his tray on top of the can.

Brad held your stare for another moment before finally blinking, breaking the spell, as he hastily got up himself. "Finally," he muttered. He tossed his drink away as he quickly followed behind Mobius.

But you didn't move. You stared at the now empty spot that X-5 had occupied seconds ago, trying to discern why you felt that he knew about a lot more than just this current situation.

As always, your long-time partner and best friend knew when you needed to be broken out of your train of thought and get you back on track. "Y/n!" Mobius called out as he headed towards the exit. "Let's go!"

Snapping back to reality, you blinked, shaking off your wandering thoughts and stood up, following Mobius and Brad outside. Now wasn't the time to analyze Brad's actions and choice of words, right now all you needed to know was what Brad knew right at this moment and why he was so adamant about getting back to the TVA.

If you wanted to question Brad more, you could do that later. He was your prisoner after all and time worked differently in the TVA, right?

#ok that was fun :)#now it's time to exercise and do errands #i'll get back to Sanji mode tonight #there's like noooothing about this character so i'm probably just writing this for me lmoa #*lmao #and that's ok!#watch the loki show!#there's a hint of lokius if you squint!#Brad Wolfe x reader #Brad Wolfe x y/n #Hunter X-5 x reader #loki series #loki s2 #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #loki #Brad Wolfe

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