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lnfours · 11 months ago

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inclinations (seven) | l.n

summary: a story told in two parts: summer and autumn. summer held the whirlwind romance that came crashing down too soon. autumn brought the repercussions of young love and learning how to fall in love all over again.

au: childhood friends to lovers, uni!au

warnings: WE’RE BACK!! something’s cooking w flo 🫣, loads of fluff, not so secret pining, anticipation and being unsure of how to tell someone to stay without actually saying it.

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₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the sun was officially set now, the sky dark as you sat in the passenger seat of the mclaren. the windows were down, the night breeze whisking your hair around as the music played softly through the speakers.

you had missed this, missed this part of summer. it was like something had been missing the past couple of years, but in reality, it was just him. he was the one who had been missing.

your phone buzzed in your lap, reading the text as it popped up on your lockscreen.

flo

sos!! need ur help!!

you furrowed your eyebrows, typing back a response.

y/n

with…?

flo

i have a boy coming over and i need you to keep lando out

y/n

and how do you expect me to do that?

flo

literally just make something up. you know he’d do anything for you

he’d do anything for you.

y/n

okay, okay. for how long?

flo

an hour… or two 🫣

y/n

FLO

flo

PLEASE

y/n

fine. you owe me

you locked your phone, chuckling softly to yourself and shaking your head.

“what’s up?” lando asked, stopping at the red light. you turned to look over at him.

“nothing,” you said, “uhm, do you wanna go back to mine for a little while? watch a movie or something?”

he nodded and sent you a smile, “sounds good, yeah.”

you smiled back over at him as he made the left hand turn onto your street. he parked the car outside, the both of you getting out as he followed you inside.

you unlocked the door and pushed it open, “my parents are probably out with yours.”

he chuckled, “yeah, they mentioned something about a winery to me earlier. guess they’re still there.”

you jogged up the stairs, him following behind you, “wouldn’t be surprised, honestly,” you chuckled, “do you remember that night they spent, like, 7 hours at the bar?”

his eyebrows rose, “oh my god, yeah! i forgot about that!” he laughed softly, “they didn’t even drink the whole time, they just spent time catching up and talking.”

you nodded, “i think we were 13? 14? something like that,”

“yeah, something like that,” he sat down on the bed as you kicked off your shoes, grabbing a pair of sweatpants to change into. he looked around the room, smiling as he grabbed the picture from your nightstand, “you still have this?”

you spun around to look at what he was talking about, seeing the picture of the two of you together from years ago. the both of you were dressed in your graduation caps and gowns, smiling for the picture.

“yeah,” you breathed out, “the year my mom made me bring my cap and gown so we could get pictures with you guys.”

“and because you were doing it, my mom made us do it,” he laughed softly, “i’m glad i’ve hit puberty since then.”

you snorted softly, “yeah, now you’ve probably got models tripping and falling into your dms.”

he shrugged, putting the picture back down, “not really what i’m looking for, anyway.”

you squealed internally as you searched your closet, pulling out a hoodie and another pair of sweatpants for him. you tossed them his way, “if you wanna change.”

he nodded, “thanks,” he examined the hoodie, the color being a little too familiar for him. upon further examination, he smiled, “you still have this, too?”

you turned back from the doorway to your bathroom, him holding up an old hoodie of his you had snagged off of him during one of the beach bonfires.

“guess so,” you smiled, “might still smell like bonfire.”

he laughed, bringing it to his nose. instead of the bonfire smell, he was introduced to the smell of your laundry detergent and your perfume. his heart clenched, shaking his head before speaking, “nah, smells good.”

you chuckled softly, closing the door to the bathroom before changing into the sweatpants and hoodie you had grabbed for yourself. you checked over your reflection in the mirror, fixing your hair and checking yourself over. once you were satisfied, you opened the door.

he was in the hoodie and sweatpants now, folding his clothes over the desk chair that sat in the corner of the room. you made your way over to the bed, sitting down and grabbing the remote before he joined you.

“what kind of movie do you want to watch?” you asked, hugging your left knee to your chest. he laid on his side, head resting on his hand as he shrugged.

“anything new you recommend?”

you hummed, “not really,” you made the mistake of looking over at him, your eyes meeting his. the same shades of blue with specks of green you had fallen for years ago. he was so close to you that you could almost feel the warm breath fanning your face. you swallowed, breathing out a soft response, “you?”

his head shook, his eyes dancing across your face as he took in the facial features you had grown into. you had always been beautiful to him. in the setting sun, when you just wake up, when your hairs a mess of because of the ocean. even when your cheeks are littered with tears and he’s thinking about punching the guy who upset you, he still thinks you’re beautiful.

“nothing interesting, anyway.”

you licked your lips nervously, trying to fight the urge to lean in and press your lips against his. you wanted him to make the first move, wanted him to want you just as much as you wanted him.

“y/n,” he mumbled your name, pulling you back down to earth, “i have something to tell you-“

you were anxiously awaiting was he was going to say before the sound of your phone buzzing interrupted. you sighed, leaning over and checking the notification on the lockscreen.

flo

okay you’re good now

i owe you!

you locked your phone, turning back to the man sitting next to you. you smiled softly in an apologetic way, “sorry,”

he shook his head, a smile on his face letting you know it was okay, “‘s okay. anything important?”

you shook your head, “‘s just flo, she can wait,” you said, “what were you saying?”

“no, it’s okay,” he said, “should probably get back before she thinks i’m missing.”

you nodded, mentally cursing your best friend as you watched him sit up off the bed. you were so close. so close to something you’ve been dreaming about since you were a kid, so close to having everything you wanted.

as you watched him grab the clothes off the desk chair, you held the mental debate with yourself. was it a good idea? probably not. did you really want this? absolutely.

he reached the door to your bedroom, but you caused him to freeze when you said his name, “lando, wait,”

he turned back around and you caught the little glimmer of hope in his eyes. or that’s what you thought it was anyway as you approached him.

“i, uhm,” you couldn’t back out now, “i had a really good time tonight.”

he smiled softly, “me too.”

you didn’t know what to say now, nerves washing over your body as you met his eyes, “good,”

he chuckled, “you alright? you look nervous.”

little did you know he was nervous, too. he just had a better front put up than you, “yeah, no, i’m okay, just tired.”

he nodded, “i’ll give you back your clothes after i run them through the wash.”

you shook your head, “keep ‘em, they’re yours, anyway.”

you didn’t want him to leave, but you didn’t know how to get him to stay.

“i’ll see you tomorrow? for brunch?” he asked, the annual brunch between your families totally escaping your mind until now.

you nodded, “see you tomorrow.”

“good night, y/n.” he smiled once again.

“good night, lando.”

he walked out the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall as he got further and further. you sighed, running your hands through your hair as you turned away from the door. you were so close. why couldn’t you have just told him?

you didn’t hear him turn around in the hallway, didn’t hear him toss the clothes on your bed. you jumped when he grabbed your arm, turning you towards him.

“fuck this,” he mumbled, pulling you into him as he cupped your face with his hand. your heart was beating so fast it was a shocker he couldn’t hear it as he pressed his lips to yours. you kissed him back quickly, your lips moving in sync. your hands had found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in his curls.

he pulled away from you, resting his forehead against yours, “this is a bad idea, isn’t it?”

“probably,” you breathed, “but i’ve wanted this for too long to care.”

“glad we’re on the same page,” he said, kissing your lips again. you smiled into the kiss, his teeth gently nibbling at your lower lip before his tongue slipped in.

you giggled softly when his head dipped to the space between your collarbone and jaw, curls tickling your cheek as he peppered kisses against the skin.

“lando,” you breathlessly said his name as he backed you up against the bed, your back hitting the mattress as you pulled him down with you. he hummed against your skin before you continued, “you’re all i ever wanted.”

he smiled, love filled eyes meeting yours, “you’re all i ever wanted, too.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris series #lando norris x reader series #lando norris fluff #friends to lovers #university au #friends to lovers au #inclinations series #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic #ln4 x you #lando norris x childhood friend!reader #childhood friends to lovers au

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ivnxrori · 7 months ago

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When Sun and Moon meet - S2

Zuko x Fem!WaterBender!Reader Enemies to Lovers

As one of the Princesses of the Northern Water tribe, you were blessed with a gift by the moon. However you were permitted to be allowed to use the gift at all costs. From many hidden waterbending usages, the aftermath of the avatar visiting the Northern Tribe had led to your beginning journey, hiding yourself as a water bender as a princess from the Northern water tribe

Warnings: Fighting, arguing

Masterlist

҉ * ‧͙ ⋆ ⁺ ༓ ☾ Chapter 7 - Refreshing Tea

“Have you heard of that tea-house? All of a sudden their tea has been the best in Ba Sing Se!” One of the men said. “Oh then I must try it out! I have been craving tea recently," the woman responded with a laugh. I wasn't the biggest fan of tea outside of the northern water tribe. The only tea that exists was Spirit Oasis Tea which was only used for meditating in the Spirit Oasis to the Moon spirit. Ironic that the water tribe doesn't have a variety of drinks. “Uhm ma’am” I snapped out of me zoning out. I have been doing that more recently. “Sorry…” I said sheepishly as I handed him water tribe money. “You must be hearing about the new tea at the tea-house, I haven't had the time to go there but man I really want to. Sadly I'm constantly stuck at work.” The worker complained. Maybe I should check out the new tea area. “Water tribe money? Wow I haven't seen this currency in a while” The store owner said as I packed up my groceries for today. “Sorry, that's all I'm able to carry” Internally praying he accepts the pay. “Money is money” He shrugs and I let out a sigh of relief. “Have a nice day” he waved off while I smiled in gratefulness, taking Aku by the lead.

҉ ☾

Aku and I managed to get there, the sky was dark and the moon was slowly rising up. I really like the night sky because that's the only time I get to see Yue again. I smiled and parked Aku near the entrance. “Stay here buddy” I consoled before going into the tea-house. Once I walked there were still a lot of people, only one table was empty. Is the tea here really that good? Or this is the only tea-house here. I'm here to find out anyway. I was able to sit down at the empty table after making my order, which was just…tea. My mind wanders off thinking my father and Yue would have loved tea, not just specifically from here but in general. “Here’s your tea” a boy said, placing down the cup on the wooden table. I smiled softly “thank you” looking up at him, the realization hitting me. He has a very familiar scar on the left side of his face, it was none other than Zuko himself. Both of our eyes widened from the realization of who each other was. He totally figured out who I was. I immediately got up in fear, preparing to run away however it was prevented by Zuko himself. He grabbed my wrist, softer than I expected. “What are you doing here?” He whispered which made me irritated. “What are you doing here!?” I hissed. I didn't even get my answer due to an interruption made by…Jet?!

“These two are firebenders!” Jet yelled out, holding two of his swords. How did he figure that out? Did he fight with them? “I saw the old man heating his tea,” Jet continued to yell. “He works at a tea shop,” one of the soldiers defended. He made eye contact with me, I freaked out internally thinking what was he going to do. “He is attacking this girl right here!” He pointed the sword at Zuko and I. We both looked down still seeing Zuko’s hand wrapped around my wrist. Due to this we quickly pulled back, I blushed in embarrassment. “N-No! The tea was too hot so he pulled my hand away before I could get burnt” I explained, my voice going a pitch higher than I wanted it to be. I don't know why I defended Zuko, but he didnt do anything bad to me at that moment. Zuko said absolutely nothing, way to go Zuko. “Drop your swords boy, nice and easy” The soldiers got up but Jet didn't care. “You have to defend yourself, then everyone will know. Go ahead! Show them what you can do.” Zuko took the sword of one of the soldier’s “You want a show? I'll give you a show!” I grabbed my cub and tea before Zuko moved the table with his leg. I honestly couldn't be bothered with this situation. It doesn't include me and I wasnt that close with either of them to care. I tried taking a sip of the tea made, which was surprisingly still warm and I was even more surprised that it tasted really good. No wonder everyone wants to come here, and father would love this!

I continued drinking until I realized Aku was still outside. I went outside near the door frame to see a crowd of people surrounding Zuko and Jet, who were on opposite sides. “It's true sir, we saw the whole thing, this crazy kid attacked the finest tea maker in this city.” One of the soldiers said, making the old guy blush. Jet's eyes meet mine again making me flinch and look away. “Y/N do you trust me?” He says out loud making all the eyes go on me. My eyes widened and I looked down in embarrassment. What should I say? It's not like me saying anything would make much of a difference, unless if I took my hood down I would be able to use my princess card. “Stop bringing the young lady into this, can't you see she is scared” One of the women said, shielding me. Slowly everyone was defending me. I looked at Jet one last time before turning away. I'm sorry Jet, the person you shouldn't trust is me. He looked at me painfully before getting taken away from the guards. Jet continued spouting out words which slowly went faint and slowly everyone in the circle disappeared. “Some kinda friend you are” I turned around and saw Zuko. “He was not my friend,” I sneered. “Why did you defend me anyways, your the one that actually saw me fire bend”

“I didnt even defend you, I was trying to keep attention away from me” “Did it work?” “What is your problem? Isn't it more beneficial for you than it is for me?” I spat in annoyance.

“Calm down you two” The old man said, calming the both of us down. “How did both of you recognize me?” I asked worriedly, holding the hood closer to my face. “Your face is quite recognizable once you've seen it, Princess Y/N. Now how about some tea, it will be on the house.” The old man whispered the second part which made me breathily sigh. “I'm good for the day” I glared at both Zuko and the old man. I go outside to take Aku and leave.

“Sorry Aku, i'm just going to go for a little walk okay?” I patted Aku on the head before I left. I was never allowed to go out at sundown before so I wanted to see what it was like. I stretched my arms over my head before seeing a kid and an adult. The adult had the kids' ball, taunting him. Really? How immature are these adults? “Hey, let the kids have some fun” I stated, defending the kid who turned towards me. His eyes were bloodshot red, tears were streaming down his face. “Hah, what are you gonna do? Hit me?” The guy taunted, shaking the ball. “I might just do that” I get water out of my water pouch, slapping them. “Ow” the guy hissed and let go of the ball “you will regret this!” he yelled running away. I grab the ball and gently hand it to the boy. “You need to be careful at night, who knows what could happen” I wiped the tears that were on his cheeks. He sniffed in response, grabbing a ball. Shakily saying “T-Thank you kind lady” He looked down. I smile softly “No problem, now where are your friends?” I looked around to see no one. “They all left once the scary man came” He sniffled. I patted his head sweetly. “Let's get you home little guy” I smiled as he grabbed my hand.

“Say thank you to the kind lady, who knows what we would do without her” The mom patted his back, ushering him to thank me. “Thank you!” He smiled. Both the mother and the son waved in delight. I waved them back and turned around, away from the house. I should probably go home by now, I'm feeling a bit tired. I yawned in my hand, till I heard something. I turned around quickly, searching for anything but there was nothing. Huh…I guess I'm just hearing things. Then I felt a grasp around my wrist. I immediately flick it away, using my water bending to hit them back. “Who's there?” I said out loud. “I told you, you will regret this” the guy from before said, chuckling evilly. The same guy who stole a kids ball. This time he had two additional accomplices. “Please you're so immature” I laughed mockingly which heated him up furthermore. Before he could strike, a figure barged in, striking them with two blades. My eyes widened at the scene and I quickly took out the figure behind me, whacking him down. I turned around to check out the scene again. I got a better look of the figure who held two swords, wore a blue mask and an all black outfit. “Just who…are you?” I raised my brows, moving closer. Just as I was about to get close enough, he ran, taking the three guys with him. That was awfully weird, man I really need to get home now…

<- Back - Next ->

a/n: Sorry for the late post WOOO Managed to post it on time!! So yeah! Thats literally it LMAO have a nice day and take care fo yourself!!

Taglist: @luvkvni @katovano @karmaswitch @someonesmember @velvet-spider @sh3sa1dwhat @nerdisthenewcool @meiraloves2dmen @fqnfics101 @iluvme547 @leaderwon @yukihatesreoyo @heart4hees @4l3x1s @kkissaku @corpsebridenightamare @newjellis @fatkish

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vivisviolets · 7 months ago

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━☆𓁺☆━ Magical messages for your Monday ━☆𓁺☆━ (⊹ timeless dw ⊹)

free channeled as i did my makeup weeeee

━☆pick the image you feel most drawn to sistaaas (gn term)~ or to become more clear for this channeled reading/future prediction, ask God/Spirit/your higher or future self for which pile would resonate best for your alignment~!!... And or just pick your favorite Powerpuff Girl ofc lollll━☆

━☆𓁺☆━ pile 1

━☆☆☆━

━☆ Pink, hearts, sparkles/sparkly (eyeshadow or sparkly dresses?- brooches?...), summer nights, fireworks, dreamy, grounded, Taurus/Virgo/Capri placements (Taurus midheaven, Capri rising/Moon degree, Virgo rising/Mars), divine feminine within masculine, house/collage party, business upgrade, phone calls, paid (family?$) vacation, past mommy issues ━☆

━☆I see a balcony, this could be the balcony of a new/different apartment that you are touring and settling on that is destined for you at this time in your life- for some this is an apartment at a party of some kind, hosted by a friend of a friend-... This is a balcony of a castle even- Disneyland? For my whole collective, this is a balcony that you are standing on at night, the sky is a fully darkened blue, and this is accruing in an environment where there are only a handful of stars or none at all... But there is something about the scene that is glittering- maybe dew drops on other balcony plants glistening from lit windows, stained glass,- for those at a party this could be what you choose to wear, eyeshadow, or some accessory,- for those in some place higher, or more royal I should say this is your dress or a clip on your suit-... For all in this collective, no matter the situation-... You feel like a princess. Or prince, or royalty, you feel high (maybe you are at this party💀- full or laughter and couches)- you feel on top of the world. Your world, that you are finally meeting- you are becoming aligned with your world... This might even be your first party, your first business trip/meeting, or your first apartment in a new town/place. You are looking from this balcony, up at the summer night sky, and down at the life below (windows, sidewalks, cicadas-)... You look ahead, past the balcony's edge- and you feel... At peace. Your eyes are sparkling, with tears for some of you, and for some, it's a feeling of satisfaction- you are here. In the weight of the past bundled up, and your whole future as open to you as the night sky, open to you and closer in reach- and you are here, right smack dab in the present, your present moment, your moment.

━☆"I feel nervous in a way that can't be named" - "-I dreamt last night of a sign that read 'The end of love'" - "we were reaching in the dark- that summer in New York" - "I've always been in love with you- could you tell it from the moment that I met you"━☆

━☆𓁺☆━ pile 2

━☆☆☆━

━☆ Green, connection to pile 1, 32, 222, 333(?), "finally here", garden, Paris, je t'aime(2006), fruit, park visit, "new job now colors", "you love her, don't you?" ━☆

━☆As I looked up from meditating on your energy, all I saw was green (the sunlight on my hydrangeas), you love nature and "organized plant life" (gardening I'm guessing) and you are finally in it! I keep getting phrases more so than just keywords so for some you may be a writer... And your work has finally become monetary "fruitful"! Or for some of you- you just have a "writer's heart" that I am heavily picking up on. -(Brontë sisters?? Wuthering Heights-?)- And I want to give you the message that you will have this same heart for years and years- and you do with it as you wish (keep it internal I mean), but this is just my message to you and what my own spirit guides are saying- tune into yourself and begin to express like my actual-writer group. I'm hearing that my writer group for this collective may even be your higher selves showing you what your future can be by stepping onto this path, and for those in my group already writing (and this could be anything, journaling, poetry, fan fiction, etc) you are now making steps towards this future-writer-self... I hope I'm making sense because I am not a writer lol (I am in my own way ofc I just don't describe myself as that... Yet!)- anyways, even if all that you are doing right now is just personal (for some of you, you already have a blog or page that you are posting on/beginning to, good for you!!), but if you continue to build your world, build your confidence/grow your confidence- this will in the future turn into a career I'm hearing, even if it feels slow going. I'm hearing it will result in journalism, a bigger blog, tons of kudos (~if you know you know), ko-fi, etc- I'm hearing you'll get those new pairs of shoes that you want (yes pairs, you'll have the income)- but back to nature~ you'll get that garden, it's already set in stone for you,- for some of you you'll also get that job involving nature/plant life/outdoors. I'm hearing it has something to do with the national parks/forest preserves, so you'll be getting that park ranger opportunity, fire watch (?), wildlife protection and observation- you got it-it's yours. For some of you, this is a position at a "big box store" in the gardening department, like Home Depot (US reader here- change the name for where you live)- you got it in the bag. I'm already seeing you pushing one of those big wooden carts around full of geraniums or something🌸. The point is, once you align yourself with where you want to be/go- you got it, it's yours. Arriving in even better a plan, and timing, than you were overthinking it would be.

━☆"silly boy- don't talk to me" - "I do better on my own- I don't mean to come off cold" - "shame I would've danced with you tonight"━☆

━☆𓁺☆━ pile 3

━☆☆☆━

━☆ -(*cw* 18+ near end)-(‼️**CW**‼️ vampiric energy ‼️ALERT‼️🗣)- Blue, clouds, sky, "sky high", birds, balloons, sunsets, the ocean, letters V, T, O, M, number 7, 777, 7171, sea turtles, tangerines, citrus, Pretty in Pink (1986) ━☆

━☆You're in the clouds- maybe you're high with a group of friends. I sense your crush, or someone you feel an attraction to when you get high- you're in a dreamy place, and the environment around you also feels a bit like a dream, you're at a fair- a fairground of some kind. It's dusk and by the beach, the air has turned crisper and you're in a jacket (bomber or jean), you're being led by the hand through the lit-up stalls, and the lanterns look like they have fairies made of light dancing in them- your head is spinning with the cold summer air as you are guided through the feet and shoes of others. This person guiding you sees you as theirs in this moment, whether they are one of your friends going solo with you, or the person who you have this scent of attraction towards- I'm not sure, I don't think you quite know either as they lead you with their back to you through the crowd. You two being connected by their hand reaching behind them to grip onto yours- the breeze flowing through the crowd dances through your loose hair whisps- your eyes are unfocused, and the air switches from clear and cold to warm and fried (because fairgrounds,- funnel cake)- your wrist stays pulled on, a clung-to-grip... This person, you do know them- and they want to take you somewhere while in this high, their own high makes them headstrong and determined I'm hearing, but again- I am unclear if this is someone in particular that you are attracted to, or a friend... Who most definitely has an attraction to you when you are both in the clouds... Together- you follow their grip on you, and what happens next-... I'll leave to your imagination ☁️💫

Ok I'm sobering from your energy- cuz your reading turned out too short for my taste and I want to try and "recall"/"remember" some of the details to better Identify this individual to you... You already know this person and they are within your friend group/you know them in a group setting (for only one or two of you- you are currently solo/on your own and this is describing your future friend group dynamic!),,, there is something dark about them physically or energetically- dark curly hair, dark/brown/hazel eyes, tan/dark tan skin I'm hearing. There's something noticeable to you about their jawline/chin/lips area- it's honestly giving Pretty in Pink energy- you have your eyes fully hazed over for this one particular person (also in your group- or this could even be a co-worker or someone you know from work) while this other person is energetically at your heels- it's giving you're gazing longingly at another while this person is staring hard at the back of your head. Ouch lol- but again the dark attributes I felt weren't just physical but also energetic... Yea, they're fun and have either a very charismatic personality or a more dry and witty charm to them (I'm hearing a bit of a drawl especially when they talk to youuu)- but their motives,,, their intentions boo-boo, I mean maybe you'd kinda like a bad little boy in the sheets- I'll leave it up to you, but I'll say just be totally freaking careful with your emotions and what you can actually gain from this person, cause,, I'm hearing the word "wipe/tissue"- this person is here for fun and then it's onto the next experience... They could get off on doing that actually 💀- but I mean you do you, just know what it is you're doing (it's giving vampire energy now... They want to take your precious energy under a cape before flying off out the window- OOF💀 babygirl-!)

*kept typing "?" when I wanted commas- this dude is confusing and not it tf- (I cannot go on any longer girllll😭)*

━☆"you would explain the current,Hoping I just stay the same and nothing will change and it'll be us, just for a while" "do we even exist? that's when I make the wish, to swim away with the fish"━☆

━☆

☆

━☆this was cool lol happy monday🎉☕️

#୨୧┈♡ vi post #୨୧┈♡ vi pac #୨୧┈♡ vi's art #pac #pac tarot #pick an image #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a picture #pick a pile

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hearts4golbach · 1 month ago

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Baby, You're a Haunted House.

KINKTOBER DAY ONE: CARNIVAL.

Art done by @cupidthestar !

pairing:

clown!Johnnie Guilbert x clown!fem!Reader.

a/n:

first year doing kinktober?

not proofread

warnings:

smut 18+, pet names, oral sex (f recieving), semi-public sex.

word count:

0.9k

The gloomy October sky hung high above your head as your 'friend,' Johnnie, strode next to you. By friend, you meant friends with benefits. After meeting through your job, which was walking around a horror themed amusement park and scaring the shit out of people, you two couldn't get enough of each other. Your whole act for the park was being polar opposites of each other; Johnnie was a darker aesthetic while you were the stereotypical neon colored clown. People loved you guys. You dare say you were the most loved duo of the park.

Today was you and Johnnies first closing shift together. Needless to say, your manager had made a bad decision.

While the two of you had completed some of the tasks at hand, you had gotten... distracted. Johnnie had you pinned up against the wall of the haunted house. Your breath hitched as he kissed down your neck, leaving black lipstick marks on your exposed skin.

Above your head hung a noise activated animatronic that would jump down at the two of you if it picked up anything louder than a whisper. You began to speak up

were about to ask Johnnie to move before he said something. "Keep quiet. We don't wanna trigger that thing and get caught, do we?"

You internally groaned. Even if you asked, Johnnie would be against moving. Risks turned him on, and this was right up his alley. Your teeth sunk down into your lip as Johnnie found your sweet spot, sucking a dark mark into your neck. You tugged at his tie, working on loosening it as he kissed down to your cleavage. The corseted you were wearing gave him more access, which he was overly grateful for.

"Can't stand seeing you walk around like this all damn day," his lips brushed your earlobe, making you jump. You were so on edge because of the threat above you. You wouldn't admit it, but the thrill turned you on just as much as it did him.

You smashed your lips onto his, smudging around whatever makeup of his was left with your bright red lipstick. He squeezed your hips, trailing down to the bottom of your skirt. There were multiple layers he had to get through before he reached your spanks. When he did, he pulled away from the kiss and knelt to his knees.

You watched his careful, silent movements as he pulled down your shorts and panties. He picked up your leg, putting it on his shoulder before licking a long stripe through your folds. You but down on your painted lip harder, the taste of your own blood filling your taste buds as you tried your hardest to stay quiet. The soft slurping noises were the only ones heard throughout the whole, dimly lit hall.

you tangled your fingers in his messy raven locks. You slapped your hand over your mouth as his tongue entered your hole, licking around your walls before returning his attention back to your clit. You squeezed your eyes shut as his movements quickened. A quiet whimper escaped your lips, making you flinch and Johnnie abruptly stop.

His grip on your thighs loosened as he snaked his way back up to your lips. You could taste yourself on his lips as he spoke. Johnnie tsked, "you're so fucking lucky." He pressed his lips into yours again as your hands slid down his waist to the hem of his dress pants.

He placed dark hickeys on your cleavage as you helped him shimmy his pants down to his knees. You palmed him through his boxers, making his eyebrows furrow as he held back a grunt.

"Fuck, come here." He pleaded, just below a whisper.

Johnnie wrapped his hands under your thighs, lifting you up gently and pressing you into the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist. He ground his bulge against your aching core.

You watched as he peeled his boxers off, letting them pool around his knees. He pulled your panties to the side and thrusted inside of you in one swift motion. He prevented lewd noises from escaping his lips by biting down on your shoulder. You winced, the pain and pleasure a heavenly combination. He didn't take his time with you, speeding up his pace as his mind was foggy with need.

Your heavy breathing became louder as he attacked your g-spot. His hand snaked up and wrapped around your neck. He squeezed tight enough for you to still be able to breathe.

"Close?" Johnnie asked as simply and quietly as he could.

You nodded, allowing his hand to slither its way up to your mouth. He skipped his middle and ring finger past your lips, allowing you to suck on them as to not make any noise. You wrapped your arms around his neck tighter as you felt that familiar knot in your stomach begin to form.

"C'mon," he huffed into your neck, "cum for me, ma."

His dirty words pushed you over the edge. Muffled whimpers slipped from your lips as his sloppy thrusts slowed. He filled you up before gently placing you back on the ground.

You leaned up to kiss Johnnie, but his attention was elsewhere. You leaned up to whisper in his ear, "what's the matter?"

He nodded his head towards the camera, a blinking red in the corner of the hall. "Shit," you muttered at a normal level. Of course you weren't thinking. You and Johnnie screamed as the animatronic jumped down, screeching in your ears.

#fanfiction #fanfic #johnnie guilbert #hearts4golbach #jake and johnnie #jake webber #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #tara yummy #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie and jake #johnnie x reader #johnnie x you #kinktober 2024 #carnival au

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hyuuukais · 1 year ago

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✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES

pairing ☆ lee felix x fem reader

synopsis ☆ Y/N is a new streamer. after months of planning, and her best friend & now fellow streamer han jisung convincing her, she makes a twitch and youtube account. thanks to jisung giving her a shoutout to his own huge following, she gains some unexpected overnight fame. but what was more unexpected was waking up to see her long-time favourite comfort streamer _sunshine.bbokari_ following her.

warnings ☆ anxiety mention

[TAGLIST -> CLOSED]

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

☆ fully written chapter ☆

CHAPTER THIRTY ☆ WAIT

You met the next day at the park by your apartment.

Not a lot of people were out, though the weather was nice. There was a light breeze, causing your hair to get caught in your mouth a few times, and making it cool enough to keep wearing the sweater/sweatpants combo you'd been wearing for the last week.

There was plenty of time for you to calm your nerves before Felix showed up; you had a habit of being early. You sit on a bench by a small pond, watching the ducks with a small smile. Though nothing could fully distract you from what was about to happen.

All night, you played it through your head: Felix would show up, and before he could say anything you'd do it. You'd break up with him. And then you'd go, leaving no room for argument or objection. The plan was far from solid, but it's what you had to do.

Sudden movement beside you breaks you away from your thoughts, looking beside you to see Felix sit down on the bench next to you. He stares straight ahead, the only acknowledgement being a small nod in your direction. Your plan dissolved the second he sat down and the two of you sat in silence for the better part of an hour until you couldn't bear it any longer.

"Felix I-"

"Wait," He holds up a hand. "Just... wait."

Taking a deep breath, he turns to look at you directly. Now you could see the dark circles under his eyes, the tired expression. Your heart broke further. This past week had been hard for you, and you didn't even stop to think how hard it might have been for him.

But why would he be? You think. He's not the one desperately in love.

"If you- if you really think we should break up, then I need to tell you something." He runs a hand through his hair nervously, turning his body on the bench to face you better. "I don't want to stay friends. No- I can't stay friends."

Your lip quivered, but you stay silent, allowing him to continue. He looks away from you again, taking a shaky breath. You could almost see an internal debate in his eyes, anticipating what he'll say next.

"Y/N, I'm in love with you," He says, voice breaking just the slightest.

There it was. Confession out in the open. Felix felt relieved to had finally said it, but all you could feel was increasing anxiety.

"You- you what?"

"I understand if you don't feel the same way, since this whole relationship was supposed to be just a ruse," He lets out a half-hearted laugh, looking down at his hands, fingers playing with his rings. "In fact, maybe it's best to leave it like this. I know you don't feel the same, but I've fallen so, so hard for you Y/N, harder than I ever thought I could. I've never felt this way about anybody before and I thought maybe, just maybe, if I was the best fake boyfriend you could've asked for, you'd fall for me too. Clearly that didn't work."

He shakes his head, his lips turned down in a frown, sniffing hard and trying to prevent tears from falling. Even now, heartbroken, he still looked so beautiful.

"So I guess this is goodbye," He hesitantly makes eye contact with you, and your chest tightens. "It was good while it lasted, I hope it was for you too."

As he stands to leave, your own tears began to fall. You hadn't even noticed them building up.

Felix was getting further away and the sky grew cloudy, mimicking the feeling in your chest. He was almost out of sight when the rain began and you made your decision.

He was in love with you.

You were in love with him.

So why in the world were you breaking up?

The next few moments felt like a movie.

You run, right down to the end of the path where you found Felix walking home, grabbing his arm. He flinches at the sudden action, eyes softening just a bit when he saw it was you. Tears streaked his cheeks, mixing with the light rain, freckles shining. Thunder rumbles in the distance, but the oncoming storm was the last thing on your mind.

"Y/N-"

"I'm in love with you too."

☆~☆~☆

notes ☆ soooo that happened!!! i hate to do this, but i'm not sure when i'll be able to update next as i'll be super busy this upcoming week! but hopefully it won't be too long until the next one. tysm for all the love and support for this smau! i can't believe it's getting so close to the end... but dw!!! i have lots of other ideas for fics after this one ❤

taglist ☆ @marcillfll @toplinelix @neri-ner @tfshouldidohere @imasimplol @samvagejkflxhrt @yennifersgeralt @aestheticsluut @cherryuqii @tenebrisirae @roseidol @veryjeongintxtkid @amara-mars @chrizzlaptop @bmnyy @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @ellelabelle @gini143 @mrsseals16 @veedoesntknaur @channiesstars @daydreamer5006 @luvvvash @amesification @skzswife @blamemef0rit @soulphoenix1618 @lovingmny @stvrfir3 @boo-ven9eance @adestayskz @rag-iii @enchantedgrunge @mytherapisttoldmenotto @strawberry-dreamland @oh-my-fancan @lucktales @cookielino @fantasyaddict123 @sleeplessmin @alexxxxxthebitxh @flirtyskzbutterfly @vixensss @hannahs-docx @hash2013 @jellsxox @sserafimez @theblindhag @httphans @hannahhbahng

pink means i can't tag u

#✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES #skz #stray kids #skz smau #social media au #lee felix x reader #stray kids smau #lee felix #lee felix x fem reader #non idol felix #non idol au #stray kids streamer au #felix streamer au #streamer au #smau

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 5 months ago

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ep 4. hey, you alright? | myj, jjk

sugar, spice, and everything nice ep 4. hey, you alright?

pairing(s): yoonji x reader x jungkook

summary: After encountering Jeon Jungkook's fuckbuddy on the train, Min Yoonji is in shambles. In shambles, but determined to do something about it. Doing nothing will only further the distance between her and one of her best friends. Yoonji figures she can throw a party, get him alone, and talk it out. And it works... sort of.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; pan!f!reader; pan!Yoonji; internalized homophobia; gay panic; ft OT6 (Kim Namjoon, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook come to Yoonji's place for games and grub); minor alcohol consumption; f/f/m love triangle confessions (!!!); non-idol!AU - Yoonji's POV

This was the worst.

Not that Min Yoonji was the doomsday type – well, maybe – but, fuck, this was the worst. She knew she couldn’t let it go on like this. Just get over it. It was impossible. No, she had lived long enough to know it would be a terrible idea to avoid it any longer. Against better judgement, she needed to know. Just pretend. Absolutely not. Lying was out of the question. Not after that prolonged eye contact in the semi-darkness in front of the bath house. That warm hand holding her hand. I can’t lie to those eyes. But then there was also…

Anyway, she had to do something.

And so, she hosted a party.

That was making it sound more than it was. It was more of a mild get-together. Yoonji brought another pack of cold beers to her coffee table, calmly placing them against the snacks as her living room erupted with cheers from three guys. She collected the empty cans and spared a look at the chaos. Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook were bouncing around in a circle, excited at the goal scored. Funnily enough, they were all dressed true to their personalities – Jimin in a neatly fitted sky blue sweater and dark jeans, Taehyung in a white t-shirt and loose brown pants, Jungkook in all black fit. A hoodie and cargo pants.

She had invited them all over to watch Team Korea’s match this evening.

Kim Seokjin hadn’t been able to make it due to work commitments. That handsome guy had an early call time for his latest movie shoot, which was understandable. He had been disappointed, because it was quite rare for Yoonji to host, and he had childishly complained about not getting the good treatment. That was Seokjin’s own way of expressing that he missed them. Yoonji missed him too, as he was the only one older than her, and, although she could never trust Seokjin during the apocalypse, she did appreciate that he always helped out with cooking and cleaning.

Seokjin also understood her, innately, and naturally overtook duties when she was wearing out.

She headed back to the kitchen. Yoonji didn’t host often because it was a social commitment that would last several hours, and her introverted self had limits. She did, however, enjoy watching sports, especially basketball. Football was also up there, bumped onto a slightly lower tier because, well, the black-and-white ball smacking into the net wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the swish of orange. Anyway, she was glad they could all come, even if it was noisy.

“Ah, glad I didn’t come back to a burnt stove or a chopped-off finger.”

“Oi!”

Kim Namjoon made a face at her from above the onion. The way the tall, built man was clutching the knife was slightly concerning. Yoonji prodded over and fixed his hand positioning on the handle, shaking her head. Namjoon frowned. Comical for such a stern-looking face. Yoonji pointed to his light-colored sweatshirt.

“How did you get onion juice on you already?”

Namjoon looked down, his eyes widening, his deep voice annoyed. “What? Aw, shit!”

She didn’t know why such a clumsy guy had chosen a matching cream sweat set to wear. The world was full of mysteries. “I’ll ask Jimin to help,” she sighed exaggeratedly.

“Hah, noona, come on. I can at least cut an onion.” Namjon pouted. Now that was hilarious for a man almost two meters all. “Let the young ones have fun. Have some faith in me.”

With a wave of her hand, Yoonji made a disgruntled noise and turned away, already feeling the prickling of irritation at the corners of her eyes from the half-chopped onion. She would have overtaken onion duty if she didn’t go blind while doing it. Damn onions for being natural bioweapons. She began to prep the carrots instead.

“Don’t let year fourteen of knowing you be the last year.”

“Noona…”

Still, she laughed under her breath. “Thanks for helping me with dinner.”

“I don’t know if I’ve actually helped yet,” Namjoon muttered, chopping very slowly.

She wanted to say something, but she found herself silent and going through the motions, swiftly slicing up the carrots and cabbage. Occasionally Jimin with his neatly parted hair and concerned face would pop into the kitchen, asking if he could help, and Yoonji would wave him away. Then, moments later, Taehyung would inevitably stick his nose into the kitchen after his bathroom break, his permed dark brown curls sticking up in every direction, peeking into the oven to see the crisping meat, and Yoonji would shoo him away too.

Jungkook only stopped by once.

“You two okay? I can help make ramyeon.”

Maybe it was just her imagination, but his voice sounded more timid than usual. She would usually raise her head and scold him. This time, Yoonji kept her eyes on the simmering pot and kept stirring.

“We’re fine. Go sit down,” she said to the noodles.

“Ah… Okay.”

Once she heard him moving away from the kitchen, she let out a contained breath. Namjoon came up beside her, holding the bowls of sliced carrot, onion, and cabbage. The poor onion looked as if it had been through a woodchipper. Meh, no one will even notice once it is all mixed in. Minced was an understatement.

“Hey, you alright?”

“Hm?” Yoonji answered absentmindedly, taking the bowls and gesturing to the carton of eggs on the kitchen counter.

The tall male went over to fetch them, sending her a searching look. “You were a pretty blunt just now.”

She paused slightly. “Ah… I was distracted.” She waited a moment and turned off the heat, ready to drain the noodles.

“I can’t help but feel that you’ve been a bit cold to Jungkook today.”

The hot steam shot up as Yoonji poured the water into the sink, carefully using chopsticks to hold back the bulk of the noodles. She sensed Namjoon backing up, probably due to the clouding of his glasses. She took the moment to reflect. Yes, that was one of the reasons for today, to figure out if she was okay in Jungkook’s presence. To test if she was, well, normal. To stop running away.

It was… going well.

“Did something happen?” he gently asked. “We can always talk later.”

“I…”

She turned around to see a frowning Kim Namjoon. He looked like a worried Great Dane with his great height and presence.

“Ahah, no, it’s nothing like that,” Yoonji sighed, giving up. “It’s a small misunderstanding. I was going to ask him to stay back a little tonight and talk about it. You know how it is for me. When people ask me to talk one-on-one, I’m a lot more comfortable. When I have to initiate, I have to make a lot of effort.”

He nodded, understanding. “Oh, I see. That’s good. It’s been a while since just you and Jungkook hung out. He mentioned recently that he missed drinking at your place.”

She felt her cheeks warm. It was probably the steam of the noodles as she was transferring them to a metal bowl. She began to pour in packets of sauce and adding additional seasonings. “Oh.” Her hands moved quickly as her mind slowed down, noisily clacking the chopsticks to evenly coat the noodles. “I didn’t realize it’s been a while.” Or that he noticed.

Namjoon’s hooded gaze lowered, bending down slightly to keep eye contact. “You seem a bit withdrawn lately. Work going well? Or is it something else?”

She tried to laugh it off, but only just. “Work’s fine. Busy, but fine.”

“Creative block?”

Yoonji thought back to her lyric notebook, the pages crumpled, covered in scribbled confessions and confused fantasies that she desperately wanted to scream to the world, yet couldn’t. “Hm, you’re probably right about that.”

Her longtime friend nodded, his glasses and buzzcut making him look like a sage-like chestnut. “Yeah, that makes sense. My door is always open.”

She chuckled. “My experiments are a bit too childish for a professional.”

Namjoon made a face. “Don’t be like that. Even if you only want it to be a hobby like you said, you’re talented at making music, Yoonji-noona. I’ve always said that.”

“Haha, thank you.” She finished the ramyeon and added some cheese on top. She began to sauté the vegetables to add as a side dish, along with kimchi. “How about you? Working on anything new?”

“Hmm, finishing up some master mixes.” Namjoon was a music producer at an entertainment company. Probably what Yoonji would have done in another life, if she was braver. “Doing some experiments of my own now that I have time. I’ve recently begun to focus more on delivering those pure, closed-off feelings in my latest project, even if it pains me to do so.”

She flicked the pan, distributing the mix evenly. “Oh? How cool of you.”

“Ah, I don’t know of it’s cool or pathetic.” He sounded sheepish.

“It’s not pathetic to talk about painful things, Namjoon-ah. We all go through such things.”

A deep, embarrassed laugh. “Yeah… Haha, you’re right. I’m only having a little trouble because I want it to be simpler, but my own poeticism is getting in the way. If I’m allowed to talk about myself like that.”

With a hum, Yoonji wholeheartedly agreed. “You’ve always had a way with words.”

He sounded distant, as if he was talking to himself.

“Not a way with love, though.”

If there was a way to figure this out alone, Yoonji would have gone that route. If there was a way to stay silent and watch it work itself out, she would have let it happen. The answer wasn’t that simple, and so she found herself surrounded by Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook, the two who hung back to clean up after the chaos. Kim Taehyung had wanted to stay behind, but he offered to take Kim Namjoon home instead, who had passed out at some point. A testament to his long nights lately, she was sure, and Taehyung lived the closest to him. Jimin had dragged Jungkook to help him, not that the youngest needed to be ordered about. They had a textbook older-brother-younger-brother relationship complete with meaningless bickering.

“Take out the trash.”

“No, you.”

“You’re stronger!”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with anything!”

Yoonji simply shook her head and let them fight, watching Jimin carry the recycling out while Jungkook grabbed the trash bag. It wasn’t necessary, but it did save her the trip of carrying it all herself. She wiped down the kitchen counters as the last step. Waited a moment. Soon enough Jimin came back, ready to wash his hands before heading out. Yoonji frowned.

“Where’s the kid?”

Jimin stuck his tongue out. “I made him sort the recycling.”

“Hah… I should have gone with you two.”

He huffed. “He can handle it.” Those swift dark eyes shifted from the soap to her face. He rinsed them off as he added, “I wanted a word with you, anyway.”

She felt her frown deepen. “Hm?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Jimin said softly, drying his hands on the spare towel. “It seems like… You’re having a hard time, maybe?”

A muscle in her eye twitched. Fuck, am I that obvious? “What?”

He straightened he sleeves of his sky-blue sweater. “Ah, come on, noona. We’ve known each other for a long time,” he chided, punching her shoulder lightly. She shot him a look and Jimin held up his hands in mock defeat. “Okay, I get it. Just…” His arms lowered slowly. He smiled, as he did when nervous. “I’m totally useless when it comes to problem solving, but I can listen. I have ears.”

Yoonji narrowed her eyes. “Hm, they’re kinda small. Like the rest of you.”

The little angel flared. “Hey! I’m not–”

She waved away his words with an impatient hand. “It’s not like I don’t get down sometimes. I’m human. Anyway, why do you think I asked you guys if you wanted to come over? I simply needed some human interaction. That’s all.”

Jimin softened. “Ah. Yeah, makes sense.”

They shared a beat of silence.

He was still giving her a strange look of knitted brows and upturned lips. She raised an eyebrow. He shook his head. And then Yoonji got it. Oh. Jimin seemed to catch on, too, that she finally understood what he had been hinting at. They had, after all, known each other for a long time. He had only learned of the very low lows after the fact, but the concern was valid. She shook her head.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” she assured him.

He seemed relieved.

“That’s good then.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder.

Jungkook burst into the apartment, looking pissed off.

“Park Jimin, you linthead, why would you–”

Insulting Jimin’s hair was a surefire way to get a fiery response. However, the youngest cut off mid-sentence, wide-eyed once he noticed the closeness between Jimin and Yoonji. She locked eyes with big, brown ones. An irrational guilt squeezed inside her ribcage to the point of crushing. There was a moment too long of frozen silence, and then she smacked her palms into Jimin’s chest, sending him stumbling back with a surprised yelp.

“Aah!”

Both Yoonji and Jungkook watched as Jimin nearly crashed into the kitchen island, catching himself with one hand. He reoriented himself and sent Yoonji a startled look. A split second to decide to look away or glare back. She frowned and crossed her arms. Jimin seemed taken aback.

Jungkook said nothing.

The front door closed behind him with a squeak and a click.

“The fuck…?”

Jimin looked hurt.

She felt the tops of her cheeks warm. “Sorry, I…” She found that she couldn’t look at Jungkook so instead she reached out and held out her hand to Jimin. And lied. “The moment reminded me of a bad situation I was in the past. Really shitty déjà vu. Not your fault. I reacted badly. I’m sorry.”

He accepted her apology right away, taking her hand to lift himself up. “Oh.” He looked empathetic. It made her feel even guiltier. “That’s okay.” He was about to say something else but Yoonji patted his hand.

“You should have helped him.”

“Jungkookie’s a big boy,” Jimin teased, letting go of her hand. “Right, kid?”

She couldn’t help but feel a loss of safety at the action.

The youngest puffed a cheek. At least, that was what she heard. “Stop acting like you’re so much older.”

“Oh, as if you aren’t hitching a ride with me,” Jimin tutted, walking up to that big chest and pulling out his keys. “I gotta babysit the baby, noona.”

“Actually, uh…”

She finally raised her head to see Jimin and Jungkook staring back at her like two meerkats on the lookout. One in blue and one in black. An uncomfortable thump-thump tittered in her chest when she made eye contact with the one in black. Deep breath. “Actually, can you stay back for a bit, Jungkook? I want to ask you something. I’ll pay for a ride home for you.”

Something flickered in those dark brown eyes.

Yoonji tried not to bite her lip in nervousness.

Then, Jungkook huffed and poked Jimin in the chest. “Go babysit yourself, shorty. I have to go wash my hands because of you.” He stepped around Jimin, kicking off his shoes and heading towards the guest bathroom. “I was gonna call my friend to pick me up, anyway.”

“Your girlfriend?” Jimin snickered.

“Shut up.”

And, perhaps for the most fleeting of seconds, Jungkook caught Yoonji’s gaze.

They shared a stilled breath of silence.

Then he moved out of sight and yelled, from the bathroom. “Get out, Jimin-ssi!”

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Can you believe this guy? Acting like he owns the place.”

Yoonji smiled, feeling somewhere between relief and panic. “Thanks for helping me clean up.”

“Anytime, anytime.” Jimin slipped into his loafers and saluted her. “I leave the baby in your capable hands. Call me if he whines.”

She was about to say something related to that, but then Yoonji stopped, holding the door for Jimin.

“I’m sorry, again, for pushing you like that.”

He shook his head. “Hey, I get it. It was instinctive.” Jimin smiled, then reached out to give her a small hug. She returned it, feeling remorseful. He let go and beamed at her. “I know you’ll hate hearing this, but even if you’re older than me, noona, I still feel the need to protect you. Even if you don’t want me to. Me and the guys are your safety net, okay?”

She made a face and tried not to cringe. “Ew.”

Jimin grinned, making his eyes disappear.

“Love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, love ya. Go away before I vomit. Bye.”

She shut the door and held her breath.

I can’t do this.

She couldn’t blow all this up.

Implode everything for… for what? She almost wished she hadn’t talked to Jimin like that. It only reminded her of what she could lose if she opened her mouth. She leaned against the door. Exhaled heavily. She didn’t have to say anything. Fuck, was she not the older one? The more mature one? The one to take some damn responsibility? She was making a mistake. It was time to tell Jungkook to go home. She turned around, intending to go into the living room.

The door to the guest bathroom opened.

Jeon Jungkook stepped out, looking worn out as if he too he just lost his own internal battle.

His black hair was a bit damp, like he had splashed his face and pushed his bangs back. Wet strands drifted against his forehead. His hoodie sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, revealing one tattooed, muscular forearm and one equally defined, un-inked one. He ran his hand through his hair again, his head turning, searching in the stillness.

Yoonji paused.

The youngest of her friends stopped too, realizing they were alone.

He had such a handsome face, truly.

She cleared her throat a bit and started shuffling to the living room.

“You, uh, should call your friend.”

The words felt as if they were burning her throat as she said them.

Jungkook hesitated, then followed. “Didn’t you want to ask me something?”

She pointed to the couch. He obediently plopped down. She stared at him for a second, faltered, and backed away.

“Ah, on second thought, it’s nothing,” she forced herself to say.

Those large eyes followed her movement. Yoonji told herself to run. Then his gaze went downcast. She felt a tug of regret. His hands weren’t moving to his pockets yet. They hung between his legs. He slotted one onto the other.

Holding his own hand.

Silence.

Then, he nodded.

“Okay, noona.”

His name flew out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“Jungkook.”

He looked up, confused.

Her heart was beating so fast that it was choking her. Her hands felt hot. The ghost of recollection, another wrapped around the back of her hand, standing at the entrance of a bathhouse under the moonlight. A mischievous smile flashed in her mind’s eye. Shit, it felt so fucking weird with Jungkook, him staring at her as if they didn’t know each other. When had this distance appeared, and why? Yoonji found she hated it. She hated this distance more than all these other confusing emotions.

She went over and sat down next to him.

He seemed startled, his broad shoulders jumping, and Yoonji was pissed at how this closeness was no longer the comforting feeling it used to be. They used to be fine with this. They used to tease each other and laugh together. They used to be friends.

And she was going to lose him if she didn’t say something.

“Jungkook, I…”

Get it over with, Min Yoonji!

“I like your girlfriend.”

Those big brown eyes widened, his pink lips parting, the overhead light catching the tops of his cheekbones.

“Me too,” he breathed.

They stared at each other.

Then, his words actually clicked in Yoonji’s mind. Wait, what? But before she could say anything more, Jungkook grimaced and buried his head in his hands, mussing up his hair in a mild panic.

“Fuck, I should have asked her to be my girlfriend from the start!”

She jolted, not expecting this result. “You still haven’t?”

“Ah, I…” He shook his head like a dog, nervous energy pitching his normally deep voice. “She… fuck, Yoonji-noona, I know, I know, I screwed up saying nothing, just like last time…”

“Whoa, slow down.”

She reached out a hand, paused, then placed it on his upper arm. Jungkook was hunched over, elbows on thighs, not looking at her, stricken.

“Hey. Hey,” she said, shaking his shoulder. “Get a grip. What do you mean?”

She saw his brows furrow. He continued staring at the ground. “I… I don’t know. I can tell she’s pulling away, because of me… I can’t bring myself to say anything, because…”

“Hah?” Yoonji scowled and squeezed him under her hand. “What more assurance do you need?”

Jungkook lifted his head.

He looked beaten. He looked guilty. His gaze wavered. She held onto him. He felt solid and strong in her hold, but his eyes were lost, imprisoned in unspoken hopes and fears. Her problems seemed stupid compared to this heartbreaking confusion before her.

She sighed, putting on a resigned expression. “What is it? Do you need someone else to tell her for you?”

His eyes went from the floor to her face. Yoonji felt her teasing tone falter.

“I couldn’t say anything to you.”

Her heart stopped.

Jungkook lowered his head again, tilting his gaze. His voice sounded far away and sad. “If I couldn’t say anything to you, someone I am comfortable with, someone I have a friendship with, then how can I say anything to someone I absolutely can’t lose?”

Her hand left his arm.

“W… What?” she breathed, staring at him.

He took in a deep breath and turned his body a bit to better face her.

“Yoonji-noona…”

She couldn’t move, slack-jawed.

Apology in those deep brown eyes. He opened his mouth but Yoonji shot her hand out, gripping his forearm, his skin hot under her cold fingers. We’ve been friends for a really long time. If we were gonna date, it would have happened already. Oh, shit. She swallowed hard, realizing how her off-hand comment must have affected him back then. She tried to breathe. It was impossible, so she picked trying to speak instead.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” she croaked, wanting to run and stay at the same time.

He winced. “Uh… Yeah,” Jungkook mumbled, his eyes shifting away.

She shook his arm impatiently. “Since when?”

The sound of him clearing his throat seemed to radiate throughout the room. “Um. Well.” He stumbled through words, stringing them together oddly. “While ago. You were dating that… uh, you called him a bastard too. Even when you broke up, you seemed off. Really depressed. Drinking every night at Namjoon-hyung’s place. I was so worried, but he told me to give you time. I… Anyway. I mean, I’ve always only been a kid in your eyes. And you’re my friend. So. Wouldn’t work. And I… I would rather be your friend than be rejected. I guess I got over it. And I met her, eventually. Uh, so... you know... I’m over it.” He waved his free right hand awkwardly.

His fingers stilled.

He dropped his hand.

“But I don’t think I’m really over it.”

His lips twisted upward, revealing the small mole underneath them. Perfectly in the center. Perfect, like the rest of him.

“If I was, then she’d be mine right now,” Jungkook sighed, the air rushing out of his whole chest at his words.

She didn’t know what to say.

Her other hand grasped her jeans, trying to steady herself with the tactile world. Her mind went back to that Instagram post. It was then. Of course, she hadn’t been in the right headspace back then. She had been playing mental Russian roulette between all that gaslighting and toxicity. After the breakup, she actively numbed her emotions every day, every night. Tried so hard to dissociate. Wore out the words, I’m fine, like it was in fashion. The worst part was how she felt like such an idiot, knowing she had willingly let herself be that pathetic for someone that ultimately didn’t matter. That internal shame had projected into her avoiding any meaningful connection with her friends except for Hoseok. Probably wouldn’t have reconnected with them at all if it wasn’t for that ball of sunshine pushing her to rejoin society. Contrary to her intrusive thoughts, they had all welcomed her back as if she hadn’t lost contact for months.

Jungkook sighed.

It took Yoonji a moment to realize he had sighed her name.

No, not her name but her name.

“She’s so cool. That was the first thing I thought when I saw her.” He raised his head, gazing into a direction not in this room. “She hadn’t spoken a word and I already liked her. Fuck, when she looked at me… I swear my heart stopped. I couldn’t stop thinking about her eyes for weeks. So fucking hot. She’s smart, too. Knows so much stuff about everything. About life. I thought it must be a dream when she kept talking to me. Me? No way, right? She even likes my dumb humor. Her laugh is so great, especially when she can’t breathe… It’s so funny.” He smiled briefly. Then it vanished. “She’s tough too. She told me a little about how she grew up, and I… huh, is this selfish? I just keep thinking, I want to be the one who makes her happy. I want her to always be happy. But…”

He sighed heavily.

“Maybe I don’t have the guts, after all.”

There was no good word to describe how she felt. Stunned. Ashamed. A hinderance. Should she have known? Could she have known? If that now meaningless bastard hadn’t fucked her up so bad, would this conversation be different? But she couldn’t change anything now. The world was moving fast and slow at the same time. It must have been seconds, but it felt like hours. He wasn’t blaming her. And yet, Yoonji couldn’t help but think that her choices, her actions, her very existence had made everything worse, somehow. She pulled her touch away.

Jungkook’s head turned slowly, making eye contact.

“It makes sense,” he chuckled dryly. Half-smiled. “Why you would like her.”

Then those dark brows knitted together.

“Wait. What do you mean, Yoonji-noona, you like her?” he started, jerking back in alarm.

Her heart leapt to her throat.

“Uh–”

Then, the devil herself interrupted.

An explosion of sound blasted from his right pocket. They both jumped, startled at the intrusion of a rising ringtone, growling singing mixed with heavy guitars. His hands fumbled with his pants and Jungkook yanked his phone out of his pocket, his eyes widening at the name, answering it after shooting her a frightened look.

“H-Hello? Noona?”

“Hey, you didn’t text me.” She could barely hear that husky voice but she could hear it all right. She sounded annoyed. “You answered so you’re not dead. I thought you said you needed me to pick you up?”

“Um.” He glanced at Yoonji.

She threw up her hands in a wordless the-fuck-you-looking-at-me-for stance.

“Oi. Earth to Jeon Jungkook.”

The tip of his pink tongue flickered over his lips. “Ah… yeah. Yeah, sorry. I’ll text you the address.”

“Hey, if you wanna stay longer, that’s fine. I just need to know a time so I don’t pass out too early.”

“No, noona, um, please.” Jungkook glanced at her again. Yoonji looked away, feeling her cheeks warm. Why was he looking at her repeatedly like that? “If you could come now. Please.”

“Hmm, a please, huh? Well… since you’re insisting so sweetly.”

And then the call ended.

She snapped her head back and clenched her jaw. “What are you doing–”

“Shouldn’t we talk to her?”

Yoonji froze. He was certainly right. She must be losing it if Jungkook was being the sensible one here. Argh, fuck it. She pursed her lips, not willing to meet his gaze.

“You’re right. Go on. Text her the address.”

“Are you su–”

She snapped towards him and nodded fiercely. “Come on. We’ve run around in circles long enough. I’m tired of things being weird between us. Before anything, we’re friends, Jungkook. Let’s not act like strangers.”

He was gripping his phone very tightly, his cheeks flushed pink, his big peepers extra big.

“Y… Yeah. You’re right.”

Half-smirk.

“Yo.”

Black bomber jacket with an oversized ruffle on the shoulders, dark scarlet silk slip dress with an exaggerated black lace trim, and black heeled boots. The bright silver buckles were in the shape of moons. Her hair was wild. There was not a lick of makeup on her face except for lip balm that gave her full, mauve-pink lips a glossy sheen. She moved and Yoonji looked away, startled at the leg slits of the slinky dress that exposed even more of her upper thighs.

“Crazy I ran into you here,” Jungkook maybe-maybe-not girlfriend mused out loud. “Nice sweater. Excellent taste, might I add.”

Yoonji suddenly felt very shapeless in her dark-grey and black striped sweater and baggy light wash jeans. Shapeless, but not clueless.

“Hah…”

The past twenty minutes had been pretty damn awkward. Neither she nor Jungkook could get the balls to speak to the other, even though one of them had grown up with them. Yup. What a sign of long-term friendship. Right. Maybe they both thought everything would be solved with the appearance of those scorched eyes. Or maybe they hoped they could pretend all this never happened if she didn’t show up. Perhaps she would get annoyed at the run around and tell Jungkook off.

Or something.

Yoonji backed up and ticked her head inside her apartment.

“Come in.”

A shift in gaze. “Simply to pick him up? What did you do to him?”

She tried not to notice or care about the mischievous glint under lashes. Like cinders still burning. There was nowhere else to look, though. The woman on the other side of her door had her hands in the pockets of her jacket. It was unzipped, giving peeks of those exposed collarbones and the lace-trimmed décolletage. Looking at those bare legs was an absolute no-go.

“Just get in here,” Yoonji muttered, backing away from the door and heading out of frame.

She didn’t bother to look. She did hear the faint hum and two steps into her home. A pause. Yoonji turned back around to see her front door being closed. They locked eyes. She looked away first. A soft, bemused sigh.

“N… Noona.”

Yoonji jumped at the appearance of a black lump with too-big eyes standing in the hallway. His hands were shoved into the front pocket of his hoodie. He had even pulled up the hood, like some kind of utterly useless fabric safety net to the fire before them. He awkwardly shuffled a bit closer, avoiding Yoonji’s stare.

“Hey, Jungkook.” Her tone was still light. “Sup?”

He coughed. “Uh…”

“You wanna tell me why I’m standing here with the two of you acting like you just buried a body?”

Yoonji winced. She turned back to a raised eyebrow. The woman hadn’t gotten out of her boots yet. Still standing there next to the door with Jungkook’s discarded sneakers and Yoonji’s everyday ones. When she shrugged, the oversized ruffle of her bomber jacket flounced to accentuate it. She flickered her gaze from one to the other. Still silence. Finally, Jungkook’s more-then-friend-with-benefits crossed her arms and shot them both a discerning eye.

“Look, I’m not the police. I don’t feel like interrogating.” She sucked the inside of her cheek and made a dimple appear. “Kinda seems like you both wanna tell me something, though. So, out with it.” Tilt of the head, her hair curling in waves around her face.

No one spoke.

Those dark eyes hardened to flint. She sighed, now impatient.

“Hm? You both confessing you fucked or what?”

Yoonji could feel her cheeks burn to red in an instant.

“What? No!”

and

“No? What!”

At the same time.

Jungkook had exclaimed in unison with Yoonji, flinging his hands out and crossing the distance. Immediately Yoonji backed up – into where else but towards the fire herself. She almost tripped when she felt a hand on her back push her forward. She spun, freezing as she ended up beside Jungkook, gawking at the woman standing by the door with an ominous but otherwise unreadable expression.

Said expression shifted from one guilty expression to the other.

“Yeah. Okay.”

She rolled her eyes and lowered her arms.

She made to leave. Jungkook called her name, pain in his tone. She stopped mid-turn, stilling. Yoonji could hear it too. She looked from him to her. That scalding stare informed them that she would not let herself be burned again. It wasn’t quite directed at either of them though. Just guarded in general.

“It’s not like that,” he pleaded. “Please believe me.”

A beat of bated breath. Then she straightened and regarded him like bird of prey. “It wouldn’t matter if it was,” she concluded. She shrugged again with an inappropriate, small floof. “I only need to know for my own sexual health. You said you don’t want to be my boyfriend. You don’t need to worry about my feelings being hurt, because they aren’t.”

The look on Jungkook’s face indicated that she might as well have slapped him.

Finally, Yoonji nudged herself forward. “We didn’t. I wouldn’t.”

The second that sharp gaze swiveled and pierced right through her, she winced. It was not the same as the teasing playfulness or even the ambiguous friendliness. It was disappointment. Not focused at her. Overall, at the entire situation. As if this happened enough times for her to know all the script, marks, camera angles. As if she knew this would happen despite not wanting the current cast to be part of the scene.

“But you would.”

There were a right answer and a wrong answer here.

Yoonji couldn’t answer at all.

A curt nod to the silence. Those predator eyes went to Jungkook.

“And you?”

He chewed on his lower lip, the windows to his soul glassy.

“You know I want to be with you. More than anyone.”

For fuck’s sake, there was more silence than there was talking. After a prolonged pause, the woman left out a low sigh, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets, running her tongue over her back teeth. Yoonji finally found her voice. Small and unsteady, sure, but she spoke up anyway.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

A shadow crossed over dark orbs. The fire within died down a bit.

Or, at least, was obscured.

“You know.” That soft, husky voice calmed, retracting the previous sharpness. “I believe sex is an action that reflects undeniable truths. But, I know unspoken intentions reveal more than the actions themselves. So, while you two may not have had physical sex,” she said, slowly tilting her head from one way to the other. “That part matters less than the omission of truth. And I think I’m missing a big part of the picture right now.”

Yoonji exchanged glances with Jungkook, who moved at the same time, almost if on cue. They looked away from each other, then back up. Raised eyebrows. Shit. He was right. She was smart. And tough. She wasn’t running.

She did not run, for their sake.

Another sigh and the other woman reached down to unzip her boots. Stepped out of them, easily, and then she was standing right on front of them. In black socks with surprised-looking white ghosts all over, funnily enough. Lengthy eye contact with Jungkook. An entire conversation in silence. Then Yoonji. She had the strangest feeling, staring deep into those eyes. Bird of prey was the wrong judgement. There was no intent to conquer. She had already conquered. Yoonji could see it, from the way she held herself to the measure of forgiveness she had already given them. This was someone that spared no more naiveté when it came to others, a trait that could only be earned by having their innocence scorched to ash. She had overcome it, faced it, become reborn from it.

Like a phoenix.

A phoenix.

Her own eyes widened in the dark mirrors of the other woman.

She smiled faintly at Yoonji.

“Are you ready to fill me in?”

Then she knocked shoulders with them and headed to the living room.

Jungkook seemed anxious. He turned toward Yoonji. Probably for reassurance. She had none to give. Yeah, you and me both. Her heart was ricocheting in her ribcage. Too late to turn back now. She made an irritated face, muttering under her breath.

“Hmph. Fuck you for having good taste in women.”

ep 5. trust that i trust you. sugar, spice, and everything nice

min yoonji masterpost | masterpost

#min yoonji x reader #yoonji x reader #bts smut #min yoonji #jungkook x reader #yoonji smut #jeon jungkook x reader #gender bend yoongi

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iceeericeee · 4 months ago

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Title: The Sun is a Deadly Laser (and It Hates Crowley)

Summary: It’s summertime in SoHo, and Crowley is still wearing his usual all black outfit. This definitely won’t bite him in the ass later today.

Notes: hellooooo good omens fandom. It’s been a hot second since I’ve been here. How are we doing today? Good? Good. Here’s some Crowley whump that no one asked for.

Human!Omens au

Whumperless Whump event, day 6: Summer is a curse

—————

It was a beautiful day in Soho. The sky was clear, children ran around playing, couples walked in silence.

One couple stuck out. Two men strolled on a path, side by side, at the St. James park.

The first one was Aziraphale. He was wearing his usual outfit, but chose to ditch the jacket he normally wore, and rolled up the sleeves of the sky blue button-up. Of course, he kept his vest on. Couldn’t leave home without it.

Crowley, however…

Crowley was only slightly regretting wearing his usual black attire. Although he would argue that his choice of clothes weren’t completely black. For instance, his thin neck tie was silver, not black. And his jacket wasn’t totally black. He’d definitely seen blacker. His was just… very very dark grey.

Although even Crowley couldn’t deny the darkness of his sunglasses. It had been purposeful, so he could hide his rare eye condition when he went out in public. Currently, not only were they protecting his eyes from being stared at by others, they were finally being used for what they had been made for: blocking the sun from Crowley’s eyes.

However, this task was a struggle, the sweat beading on Crowley’s nose made a slick surface. The sunglasses would periodically slide down, and Crowley would push them back up. But his face wasn’t the only thing slowly becoming sticky with sweat.

It was as though Crowley’s clothes had become glued to his body. It was very apparent how uncomfortable he was becoming.

“And you’re positive you’re alright? You seem a bit pale, dear…” Aziraphale fretted over Crowley.

“‘M fine, Angel. Don’t worry about me.” Crowley gently grabbed Aziraphale’s hand in his own slightly shaky ones.

Aziraphale pursed his lips. “Alright, if you say so.”

They continued to walk. Crowley could feel his feet begin to drag behind him. His breaths were slowing down and getter deeper.

It was when Crowley stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk did they both notice something was very wrong with him.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale quickly reached out to catch the other man. Thankfully, he was successful, keeping Crowley from taking an unwanted tumble onto the concrete.

Crowley tried to make a witty remark — something along the lines of ‘falling for Aziraphale’ — but found his tongue was dry and slightly swollen. All he could manage was a small groan.

“Come along, dear. Let’s… Les find some shade, and we’ll have a little sit-down, alright?”

Crowley nodded. “M’kay, Angel.”

Aziraphale gently lead Crowley to a nearby tree. None to gracefully, he practically fell down on his arse next to the trunk. He watched as Aziraphale grabbed the handkerchief from his vest pocket and leaned forward to dab at the sweat beading on Crowley’s brow.

“I saw a water fountain just a bit ahead of us. I’m going to go and wet this, just sit right here. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Aziraphale sprung up before Crowley could get a word in. So he sat there, and waited.

It was indeed a bit cooler underneath the shade of the tree. A lazy breeze blew by, brushing slightly at his hair. It was relieving. He could feel his internal temperature oh so slowly coming back down.

The swish of grass interrupted his thoughts. He looked up and saw Aziraphale walking up to him, soaked handkerchief in hand.

“Alright, I’m back. Here-” leaning down, he carefully dabbed the cool fabric onto Crowley’s forehead. Crowley subconsciously leaned in, letting his skin drink in the cold emanating from the handkerchief.

This went on for at least 30 minutes, Aziraphale rushing back and forth between Crowley and the water fountain, until Crowley felt well enough to walk back to the Bentley.

#good omens #aziraphale #Crowley #gomens #good omens fanfiction #human au #good omens fic #good omens fanfic #my writing #toast tries to write #whump #crowley good omens #aziraphale good omens

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talltalesandbedtimestories · 11 months ago

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“Person of Interest” - Beau Arlen x Reader

Part 3 (Final) of the “Guardian of the Gulch” Series (Read Part 1 Here, Read Part 2 Here)

Rating Teen

Beau Arlen x Reader

Tags: Fluff and Flirting, First Kiss (Finally! Get it Beau!)

Word Count: 2300

There's a new sheriff in town. And he just so happens to have parked his RV in your campgrounds. What's a park ranger to do with all that Texas charm strutting around on a fine pair of bow legs?

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "Anonymous Gifts/Flowers" square.

Writing about Beau for the first time was so much fun. He's got such a sweet, gentle, charming, goofy way about him on the show. I am at least making sure in my story that Beau gets his kiss. (I have also been asked by a friend to maybe have a little "Big Sky After Dark" epilogue at some point. Will see.) I've gotten a lot of inspiration from my bingo card. Thoroughly enjoyed participating and hope to mark off every square... at some point.

Also, diving into Helena history for this date I came a lot of interesting facts and fun places along Last Chance Gulch Street.

Image created in Canva (credit for photo used: “Big Sky”/ABC)

Since you’d asked Beau out on a date - apparently, that was news to you - it was also up to you to pick the when and where. That was how he'd left it that night around the fire, anyway, with a wink and a smile.

It had been a busy few days after the fourth of July for the both of you. But, you’d settled on a Sunday evening, crossing fingers there were no abductions or bank robberies.

There was never a dull moment in Helena.

You’d decided on a time and place. The plan was to meet at The Windbag Saloon and Grill. You sat at the bar, sipping your Huckleberry Mule.

Your eyes dart to the door every time it swishes open. When you finally spot him entering, a sharp inhale steadies you. The nerves that wound you up all day threaten to release fast enough to spin you like a top upon the stool.

His gaze skates over the scene once, twice. The double-take and zoning in on your face when he clocks you forces you to exhale. You wish it didn’t sound like a frightened puppy. Thank goodness he can’t hear it. Recollection fills his face, and that sunbeam smile melts you.

He takes the stroll over. You internally confirmed sitting at the farthest end of the bar was the right decision. It gives you ample time to enjoy the view of the sheriff and prepare to be devastated by all that handsome up close.

He has a full, bouncy head of hair you’d kill for. Scratch that. You’d kill to run your fingers through it. His denim jacket with a fleece collar and hints of the warm and fuzzy liner has you imagining him offering it to you on a chilly walk. You only want to get a better look at the broad shoulders and chest underneath. The shine of his silver belt buckle directs you further south for probably a second longer than would have been appropriate to stare.

You sip a little more liquid courage.

“Did I get the time wrong?” he asks, confused and already looking apologetic when he meets you at the bar. He strums a few fingers on the countertop.

“Nope.” With a head shake, you offer the adjacent stool with an outstretched hand. “I was extra early. And you were early.”

He sighs and slides in beside you. “If you’re early, you’re on time. That’s what I was taught, anyway.”

“Slow day at the office?” you ask.

The bartender drops a coaster and a napkin in front of Beau and asks what he’s having. He requests a beer, then returns to your question in a flash. “Not particularly. Why do you ask?”

You decide to try the all-knowing approach. “You had time to have flowers delivered to Linda Devonshire.”

The caught-off-guard smirk gives him away. “Me? Flowers to Linda?” He tuts. “Why would I send flowers to a married woman?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Probably because you were as ecstatic as everyone else in the park, knowing she was packing up and heading back home. I’ll bet you had the date circled on your calendar.” You spin in the seat a fraction. Inadvertently, you swish a knee over his denim-covered thigh while attempting to cross your legs.

He reacts a fraction to the touch, staring at the floor between you. His lips purse, and his brows lower. “Well, being as happy as the rest of those in Black Sandy State Park is not enough motive to suspect I’m the one that sent the flowers. Not very good detective work. Need a little more proof to convict.”

“Hm.” You shrug and wait for him to prod you more for your reasoning.

Instead, he licks his lips and smiles. “I didn’t recognize you dressed as a civilian.”

You straighten up and toss the hair back over your shoulder dramatically. “Didn’t think I could clean up this well?”

He shakes his head, all serious. “Nah. I just didn’t think you could get any prettier.”

That shuts you up.

“Yellowfin?” The server asks the both of you, now at a table after finishing your first round of drinks at the bar.

Your hand raises.

After the sandwich plate lands in front of you, the server confirms to Beau, “And the Vigilante for you?”

Beau nods, rubbing hands together, taking in the contents of his meal with high brows. “Yes, indeed.”

“Anything else right now?”

Beau points to you in wait, but you shake your head.

“All good for now, thanks,” he answers.

You groan, looking at Beau’s burger. “There is so much going on over there.”

He lifts the bun. “Yeah. Candied jalapenos. Grilled ham and onions. An over-easy egg.”

“Not to mention the half-pound of beef underneath all that.”

He resituates the bun and wiggles it in place. “Don’t forget the huckleberry barbecue sauce. I may regret it later. Worth it.”

You laugh. “I hope so, for your sake. Otherwise, this may be a pretty early night.”

He chuckles. “I don’t think anything could mess up tonight. Even my poor menu choices.”

The certainty in his voice makes you smile. “Kind of surprising you haven’t stumbled onto this spot yet since you’ve been in town. Considering how close it is to the sheriff’s office.”

“Well, the Boot Heel is where I usually end up with Hoyt and Cassie.”

You nod. “There’s a lot of history along Last Chance Gulch Street. Worth checking out and getting acquainted. Being the new sheriff in town and all.” You bite into a french fry.

“Hey, I did some research.” He clamps his large, beefy hands around the large, beefy burger. “This street was between a bunch of mining claims, where a lot of gold prospectors got rich.” He nods and confirms, “Give me a second with this, if you don’t mind?”

You laugh and wave both hands in permission. “Of course.”

He bites down and chews. Eyes close. Deep in thought. “Oh, yeah,” he mumbles around the burger. “This was the worst idea in the best way.”

“Take it easy there.” You try to jest. Truthfully, you wouldn’t mind sitting back and enjoying the show.

He swallows and sips on his second beer. “Man, it’s good I walked ten minutes from the office. I’m gonna need fresh air to clear my head and some exercise after all this.”

“Maybe I can interest you in a little walk down Last Chance Gulch after this.” Your suggestion raises his cheeks with a grin. You add, “History lesson and all that to accompany your calorie burning.”

“I’d like that.” He dabs the barbecue sauce off the corner of his mouth. He thumbs towards the outside of the restaurant. “Know who the lady is on The Windbag sign?”

“Oh, that’d be ‘Big Dorothy’.”

“Big Dorothy, huh? She the original owner?”

“Not of the saloon. She ran a business on these premises. Got closed down in 1973.” You sample your sandwich and watch Beau enjoy another bite of his burger. You wait until he’s thoroughly invested in the act, swallow, and then continue. “It was a brothel.”

His face stills in mid-chew.

You giggle.

He exaggerates his munching for a few seconds more.

“The place was called ‘Dorothy’s Rooms’. She was actually very well respected in Helena. Donated to lots of charities, and then the police had to go and raid her establishment and shut it all down. You may wanna tread lightly, Sheriff. Dorothy’s ghost might not appreciate your kind under her roof.”

“Noted.” He clears his throat.

Your guided walking tour doesn’t have the intended effect of calorie burning. Instead, you sit with Beau in a green wooden booth at The Parrot Confectionery. You’re splitting a Parrot Special Sundae.

“Oh, man.” Beau indulges in his first spoonful. It’s wondrous to behold how much enjoyment the man has with his food.

The evening has been filled with light and easy conversation to start. Lots of laughter mixed with information gathering from both of you as the date wore on. You spill about your life, years back, out west. You aren’t ready to divulge much about the relationship you left behind except the marriage had not worked out as expected. Beau’s a bit guarded as well with specific details. Something had happened on the job, though, in Houston. Something alarming enough to have him quit the force. And you think it might be one of the reasons he was now divorced.

Beau’s eyes sparkle. “I’ll have to take Em here.”

You nod. “Definitely.” He lights up every time he talks about his daughter. It’s sweet and makes him even more endearing. It almost makes you feel bad thinking naughty thoughts as his tongue laboriously licks the fudge off his spoon.

“Gotta say, darlin’, it feels like you’ve given me the key to the city tonight.”

“And plenty of indigestion.”

“I told ya. Worth it,” he insists. It’s his turn to watch you eat a few spoonfuls. You focus on the strawberry scoop. He seems to gravitate toward the huckleberry flavor and completely avoid the split banana underneath it all.

“Well, we could walk a little more to the end of the street after this,” you suggest. “I mean, the old fire tower is down that way. But you’ve gotta know about that. Impossible to miss.”

“Oh, yeah, I know all about the Guardian of the Gulch.”

You smile. “Did I forget to mention that Linda Devonshire dropped off the flowers she got to the ranger’s office before she left?”

The spoon Beau is holding clinks the sundae bowl. “You did forget to mention that.”

You swirl your spoon in the vanilla. “Well, she thanked us and said the flowers would probably hold up better staying with us than the trek back home. And she also read the note aloud to see if we had any idea who the anonymous sender was.”

Beau sighs. “Of course she did.”

You tap a finger on your chin. “What was it exactly? Oh, yes. The note said, ‘Thank you for your excellent matchmaking skills. ~ a Guardian of the Gulch’. She was completely perplexed by it. Said she hadn’t gone out of her way to coordinate any dates or encounters in Helena. Didn’t know anyone well enough for that. But we did get to hear about how she’s introduced about a dozen people to their current spouses in her home state.”

Beau lifts both shoulders. A sheepish smile forms. “If it hadn’t been for Linda’s complaints, I might not have gotten all those chances to get to know you a little better. And we wouldn’t be sitting here now.”

“This all sounds very silver lining thinking.”

“I try. On occasion.”

You roll into a parking spot in the lot behind the Sheriff’s office, engine idling. Beau’s in the passenger seat.

“Well, I hope I didn’t keep you out too late.” He leans into the backrest. A couple of creaks emit from his spine. “I appreciate you walking with me up and down Last Chance Gulch after dessert. Between the beer and the beef and the banana split, every step counts.”

You smile. “This was nice. We should do it again sometime.” He opens his mouth, but you cut him off, “I know, you accept.”

The warmth of his fingers gliding over yours, gripping the steering wheel, tingles your skin. Half in the night’s shadow, his face scolds with scrunched lips and slitted lids. “Give a man a chance to ask you out properly, would ya?”

You laugh to soothe your nerves. “I didn’t realize I’d asked you out again. Hell, I didn’t realize I’d asked you out the first time.”

He tilts his head. “I may have pulled the trigger on that one. Guess I’m finding it hard to be patient when it comes to…” He trails off, quiets, and looks serious. You realize he’s staring at your mouth.

“Sheriff!”

You both flinch in your seats. Deputy Poppernak is heading towards the passenger side of your car. Beau straightens, and you oblige the greeting and roll down his window.

“Hey, Poptop.” Beau razzes.

“Thought you’d left hours ago.” Poppernak halts five feet from the car, spots you, and waves. “How’s things going, Ranger?”

“Just fine, Deputy. How about you?” you ask.

“Can’t complain. Done for the day after a lot of paperwork. Headin’ home.”

The three of you nod in unison for an uncomfortably long amount of time.

“Okay.” Poppernak offers a friendly salute. “Night.”

You watch the deputy hop into a family van and drive off rather quickly.

“Well,” Beau sighs, “this is gonna be all over the office in the morning.”

“This?” you question. Beau eyes you. “How do you think they’re gonna classify this?”

He smiles. “Well, I guess this would be me spending some time with a person of interest. And actually, I think I’m gonna need to spend a lot more time with this person of interest. So, would you give me the pleasure of taking you out on another date, darlin’?”

All you can do is nod. His mossy green eyes sparkle. Cool fingertips round the shell of your ear. You shiver as he traces your jawline, moving in to close the gap. And then, nothing but you breathing in his warmth as he exhales softly into the kiss. It’s gentle and careful. But he tests how your lips fit and press against each other from a few angles. He settles for a spell and feasts on your mouth.

He pulls away. His fingers trail from your chin after a sweet pinch. “Are you free next weekend?”

You nod, dazed.

He grins. “Good. I’ll pick you up at your place if you’re comfortable with that?”

You nod again.

“Thank you for the ride.” He hops out of the car and closes the door with a soft click. Leaning into the still-open window he leaves you with, “Be careful headin’ home.”

“You too, Beau.”

He smiles from ear to ear, taps the window sill, and walks to his jeep. You can’t help but wait until he slides into the driver’s seat and gives you a wave. You shift into drive and leave the lot.

You can’t remember much of the actual ride home. Your mind is filled only with thoughts of Sheriff Beau Arlen. They make you smile. Hum along to the radio. You’re light as a feather and full of hope for what’s to come.

All because of a Guardian of the Gulch.

~ The End ~

#jacklesversebingo23 #beau arlen x reader #fanfic #fluff #flirting #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x female reader

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jmscornerlibrary · 5 months ago

Text

Set Me Free - a Loki x OC fanfiction - Chapter One

~~~*~*~*~~~

Hello :) I'm Jmw. So, I'm re-writing an old fanfiction of mine, and will be posting the chapters accordingly. There will be angst, fluff, and no smut, though it may get very slightly spicy at times (no gross details, or explicit content, I promise). However, since this deals with some heavy topics like madness and torture, I am going to rate this an 18 so people with a fragile heart can avoid being traumatised.

This is a Loki/OC, childhood-friends (sort of) to enemies to lovers. Thor will be her, so will Tony Stark. This is before Avengers and after Thor: Dark World, but it does have the Avengers. The chronology may vary from the line of events slightly.

I'll try and update as quickly as I can, anyway... here's the first chapter.

Ah, and this is just a story - there is only one God and he wants the best for you :)

Enjoy!

~~~*~*~*~~~

Chapter One - In which Loki is mistaken for one who cares.

Vengeance crumbles the soul. It sways foundations, cracks backbones. It topples tenderness in the heart and reduces honesty to a brittle sculpture which eventually shatters as it's blown through by the ice of disappointment; it adorns feelings with masks woven of intricate plans of deceit and manipulation.

And so Loki Laufeyson’s heart became hard like black ice, which ensnared all the raw and red and beating within it, and turned him into a being of darkness, with black crystals cutting through the blood in his veins, shrouding his chest in armour of indifference, flooding his intestines with acid and clenching his jaw, tight.

Could one see this turmoil and hidden fury in his eyes? Yes and no. His eyes became devoid of warmth and seemed like two pristine spheres - beautiful spheres, blue like jotun skin - set there merely as a tool for deceit and treachery, instead of being a window to his soul, and the turmoil he hid well enough for nobody to notice.

Loki often scoffed at that little fanciful statement. Who in their right mind saw the soul through the eyes, like through windows? When he observed other people’s eyes he saw nothing but twitching matter, something which required an irritating amount of protection on the battlefield, two frustratingly weak little points which simultaneously provided something as valuable and immense as vision. What fool wrote that statement, he wondered, then decided whatever state of intoxication that moron was in when he decided to pick up a quill and play being a poet must have been an incredibly deep one.

Or so Loki rambled on, monologuing internally to drown out the real reason why he scoffed so at a statement so true: if eyes were the window to his soul, then he feared what it was that other people - people who possessed this uncanny ability of seeing soul through the eyes, something which he had trouble with since forever - may see when they looked at his own.

It was a wonder he wasn’t spat at more often, if so many people could see the soul through the eyes. Or perhaps it was why he was spat at so often, be it with words, brutal weapons or projectiles of saliva.

But now, Loki Laufeyson did not care, for his heart was no better than deadened flesh. His heart was encased in black crystals, thoughts of revenge burned in his mind and branded his heart with something hot and seething.

Asgard was never his! Not for one accursed moment!

Loki looked up at the dimming sky and wished with every piece of his heart that he could set it on fire and watch it burn. It looked far too peaceful for him to be content with. The stars even had the audacity to wink at him - actually wink at him! As though he was just little Loki throwing a tantrum in the middle of Central Park, not the king of Asgard who was slowly descending into madness of his own accord!

Loki stared back at the millions of serene lights, looking at him from above. Or were they looking at him? Perhaps he was only thinking that their teeth-sucking was directed at him. In fact, it must have been only him - the great, omniscient stars couldn't care less about the current king of Asgard or about his miserable business.

Like Odin. Loki laughed. Odin couldn’t care less either. He must have had as much fun as those damned stars, watching Loki grow up and fight with Thor about who would be king. Oh, he must have had quite the giggle as they sparred, as they sent scholar after scholar tearing their hair and nanny after nanny running off in tears at their unfathomable characters, knowing full well which perfect son would be the final victor.

Loki clenched his fists until he heard his knuckles cracking and snapping. It had been one thousand years. It had been more than one thousand years. He had believed, for more than one thousand years, that he had been viewed as an equal, as a competitor. But no. All along, he had been a pawn. A tool. A little political reservation!

He gave a few notes of black, harsh-sounding laughter which almost made the grass wither. He had lived in his brother's shadow for so long, holding onto an illusion that somewhere, beneath all these brewing thoughts and schemes he would, one day, make his shot at being worthy and reach the crown with the tips of his fingers.

But this crown had been plucked out of his reach. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Loki had simply reached out to take it. But Loki hadn’t simply reached out to take it - he had crawled, he had pulled himself forward through fields of broken glass and metal, he had torn at the solid ground and grit and dust with his teeth in the darkness of his brother’s huge silhouette, just so that he could move along with a pace which wasn’t pitiful to the ones whom he valued. And when he been just about to grasp it, grasp this chance, shoot this shot… Odin had plucked the crown from him and placed it on Thor’s head. And Thor hadn’t been battered. Thor hadn’t had a single bruise, a single scratch upon him, from his journey to the crown. Thor hadn’t crawled forward on his knees through thorns and sharp, jagged rocks. Thor had been ridden towards the crown in a carriage, reclining with his feet on the opposite seat with everything he needed at his elbow, leaving Loki to be run over and stamped over by the horses which pulled it.

But now, Loki had a plan. One so intricate and subtle, nobody would notice his justified intentions. He would destroy the very place he came from, the very place which posed threat and show Odin that it was he, Loki Laufeyson, the lesser son, who accomplished something even the great Thor Odinson couldn’t do. If Odin wanted him to play at being worthy, so be it. He’d do it his own way. Jotunheim was going to be wiped off the face of the planet, and his father would perhaps finally grace him with-

Loki realised where his train of thought was going, then the shadows in his face darkened as he snarled.

“He’s not my father,” he spat at a nearby tree, sending it cowering and twitching as it ought to when he glared at it, internally shame-faced at some hidden longing of being acknowledged by the Allfather. Loki didn’t need to be acknowledged. He was the god of chaos and he could do everything the god of thunder could, more, for he wasn’t an oaf who had to threaten the scholars so that Odin would receive word that he did, indeed, pass all of his tests which involved more subtlety and intelligence than swinging Mjolnir around his thick head did.

Loki didn’t quite delve into the reason as to why he escaped to Midgard for the day, well, evening. He hated mortals. They were stupid and weak. And yet Asgard was too much, today - this morning Loki had awoken with something horrible and burning stumbling up and down his spine and leaking into his thoughts. He needed to get away, get away from this personal Hel he was walking into… and he supposed there was an element of curiosity too, as to what his brother would now be doing in a place which wasn’t even worthy to uphold one of his boots.

The distant hum of machinery never ceased, even if there was nothing but trees for quite some distance around him, and it only made his thoughts blacker as he gritted his teeth. Perhaps he ought to have chosen a different location to revel in his bitterness than this suffocating park. Even the trees and foliage growing around sparsely looked as though they were artificial.

Then, someone spoke.

“Hello?”

Loki disregarded this voice and presence, a small thought of his weighing more than whatever life coursed through this impertinent mortal’s veins.

He looked up at the darkening sky and returned his thoughts to this poisoned cup life served him, which he was forced to drink from and watch as his veins became black, as his mouth started to froth and ice began to spread through his insides, hurting him, cutting him, spiking him.

Ice. Ha, ha! Of course, Loki forgot! Ice wouldn’t hurt him. No, because Loki was never Odinson in the first place; he was Laufeyson! He was a blue-skinned bastard! He was a jotun-!

“Excuse me.”

Loki made a sound similar to a growl and whipped around. If this mortal knew who he was, it would be grovelling on its papery little knees for forgiveness for interrupting his inner monologue. But Loki would not be forgiving. Oh, no. Quite frankly, he had enough of everything which spoke and had eyes, and if he was going to officially become an outcast, he was going to put his whole blackened soul into it. He’d had enough of being trodden on by others.

It was dark, but light enough for shapes to be distinguishable in the evening, and Loki had sharp eyes. When he focused them on this pathetic little shape, his murderous intentions lessened a little, because he had set them upon a child. A small child. Small enough not to be able to survive with a mother’s hand to hold, and yet it was here, with no other presence around, looking up at him as though he was a potential mother.

It sniffed. Hah, it was crying; its lip was trembling! Disgusting.

“Sorry… Have you seen a man here anywhere?” it said, its voice torn but still strangely polite for a creature so small. Loki hated its sound as soon as it spoke, for it had that unclear quality which came from very recently learning how to speak which grated on his already-tender nerves.

“No,” he replied curtly, then flicked his head to the side for it to move on. But it didn’t seem to take the hint, merely stared up at him with the two, huge eyes in its head shining. Loki couldn’t quite tell, but he thought they were grey. A strange colour. Perhaps young mortal offspring had different eyes to Asgardian children.

When a few moments had passed and still it stood there, Loki began to grow irritated. Perhaps he ought to shoo it away like some meandering cattle. Did it not get the hint? Was it stupid?

He turned back to stare at it and it shifted, bowing its head and clenching its hands at its small chest.

“I’m lost,” it said, sniffing, tears spilling down its small face.

Loki chuckled emptily at its words. He was lost too, though he had a place to call home - a place which he now officially ruled over, actually - and he felt it, cold and empty in this soul which people could see through the eyes and he kept somewhere in his chest. In his chest… It must be the reason why it felt so cold recently.

“Sad, isn’t it,” he said to it, folding his hands behind his back. “Quite a tragedy.”

He observed the creature with distaste. It was undoubtedly female. In the last slivers of light, Loki could make out black hair curling to its chin and rather clear features, as though they belonged to an artist’s paintbrush.

He sighed. “Why don’t you do us both a favour and go and find your mother, hm?”

The mortal child wiped its face and gave a resigned sigh.

“My mother is dead.”

Loki blinked. “Oh.”

He shifted from foot to foot, felt a spike of sympathy, then grew immediately irritated for giving a fraction of a damn, and they grew even more irritated because his moment of dark contemplation of his existence was utterly ruined and now he was going to have to work himself up again to produce it.

“What makes you think I’m going to help you?” he snapped, then really did shoo it away like a stray cat. “Be on your way! Shoo! Off you go! Get going!”

But it stood its ground and did nothing but stare at him. Loki’s fingers twitched. Was it dim-witted? Was it moronic? Pathetic, stupid creature! Did it not see he was incensed?

“Away!” He raised his voice. “I have nothing for you!”

He snarled, baring his teeth. Scare it off, that should do it.

But it didn’t look scared, though it did obediently take a few steps back warily, as though he was a mad man, which only made his fingers tighten and his temper flame, but then there was a rustle to their left; it jumped, its grey eyes widening, then stumbled forward again, out of the shadows of the bushes.

It looked so small in this dark, cold setting of dusk, slight, insignificant compared to the looming trees. It looked as lost as it said it was. But it could not help itself, no matter how hard it tried. He still had a way out. Theoretically, anyway.

Loki gritted his teeth and clenched his fist and muttered some black curses under his breath which he would have never repeated anywhere near his mother for he would have gotten walloped like a swine being butchered.

“Right, fine,” he said airily. “Stay here and bother me, if it makes you feel better.” He waved his hand at it, then turned his back on it. He chuckled, then lowered his voice. “If only you knew who I was. You’d be running for the hills as fast as your little legs could carry you.”

He had been speaking mainly to himself, but its silly voice sounded again and, he had to give it the credit, it made the corners of his lips turn up.

“I know who you are.”

Loki gave a scoffing laugh, then tittered. “Oh, yes. Of course you do.”

“I do,” it insisted.

“I’m sure you do,” he turned towards it, but not completely, for it did not deserve his full attention, and immediately grew irritated at himself for giving it so much attention when he had came to Midgard for a lack of it. “After all, you’re all big and grown up. Grown up enough to navigate this extensive stretch of land.” He encompassed the dismal park with a gesture. “In fact, why don’t you go and explore it?”

He looked at its eyes, then suppressed a shiver. They shouldn’t have belonged to a creature so small and insignificant. They were solemn and knowing, like his mother’s often were whenever he had an outburst; like they had seen just as much as his had.

“Go on,” he mouthed to it, making a pointer with his hand, turning his eyes towards any other features but its observational tools. “Off you go.”

It fixed his eyes onto his and said, “You are Loki Laufeyson, the king of Asgard.”

Loki halted in his tracks, feeling something cold in his veins, his airy smile melting off his face and being replaced by cold astonishment.

“What?” he whispered, his voice sharp as a knife. “What did you just call me?”

Its small brows met, but it fulfilled his request. “I said you are Loki Laufey-”

He reached it in a flash and clamped his hand upon the lower part of its face. He felt his chest heaving up and down with searing rage and he could have sworn that his hand was now tinged with an accursed hue of blue in the dim light.

“Silence,” he hissed, as it struggled under his grasp. “Or I’ll make sure you’ll never speak again.”

It clutched his hand and pushed it down, its eyes wide. “Cold!” it whimpered, clutching at its face. “You’re cold, you’re so cold!”

Loki retracted his hand, something unravelling in his chest as he watched it rub its face and its lips trembling.

“I-” He made a motion with his hand, as though he could brush away his outburst with the material of his pants, then scowled and straightened, severing his guilt and caging himself. “Who are you? How do you know who I am?”

There was no disguise upon it. It wasn’t an illusion. If it was, he would have distorted it with his touch, or his hand would have passed right through it. What was this? This was a mortal child who knew his name! It knew his heritage! Nobody knew of his true heritage but Odin and Frigga!

He took a few steps back, his hands instinctively reaching for his daggers; he whipped them out and brandished them, the metal gleaming cruelly in the fading light.

“Listen, witch, or whatever you are…” He brought the dagger up to its snub nose and watched it furrow its brows and frown at him. “... either you tell me who you are and what your plan is, or I’m going to be the living evidence of exactly why you shouldn’t talk to strangers.”

It was silent.

“Speak!” he yelled, losing his temper. “Who sent you? Are you a spy?”

The mortal child blinked up at him. It seemed not to understand that it could be skinned like a hare if he only wished for it, looking at the gleaming blades with interest instead; looking up at him as though he was the young one frolicking, here!

Loki felt a pang of embarrassment, then lowered the tip of his blade. He was threatening a being which had probably just learned how to walk of its own accord. It didn’t understand him.

He sheathed his daggers and straightened, his blood still roaring in his ears and his chest heaving, and he stared down at it, waiting for it to make the next move.

Its gaze travelled to his hands, to his eyes, then it blinked and began to pull its pink, fluffy sleeves down to grab their ends.

“My name is Henrietta Knott.” It managed to engulf its hands in sleeve, flapped them, then sighed and swallowed. “I turn six in half a year. My parents died in a fire when I was… two.”

Loki clenched his fists. It was one thing loathing the man who raised him and not having a father at all. Or a mother. Perhaps he would have died if Odin hadn’t taken him in.

“I live with my uncle,” it continued. “We went for a walk, and then he disappeared.”

Loki frowned. “He disappeared.”

It nodded and when it spoke next its voice was trembling again. “I turned around and he wasn’t there anymore.”

With that, fresh tears began to spill down its cheeks and it stood there, crying, not even bothering to wipe its face. It looked truly pitiable, this shivering form in a pink fluffy coat and yellow, waterproof boots which were far too big for it.

Loki wasn’t proud to admit it, not even to himself, but at that moment he had never felt more helpless, as irritation, spite, anger and pity sloshed against one another in his chest. His fingers twitched behind his back as he held them there and he tried to come up with something to contribute to the situation with.

“I won’t help you,” he finally said, more to clarify this to himself than to inform the sobbing thing of his lack of heart.

“You will,” it insisted, sniffing. “You will help me.”

“You heard me, child.”

“You will.” It stopped crying now, swallowing and wiping its face. “Even if you are a bad man. You wouldn’t really hurt a child. Not knowingly.”

Loki opened his mouth, then gave a snort of disbelief. The audacity of this creature! What was that even supposed to mean? What in the Allfather’s name was all this?

“I beg your pardon?”

It gave a shaky sigh, then regained control over itself. “Your heart is horrible. You have killed people through ignorance. Through boredom.”

Loki listened with his mind blank to the words tumbling from this five-year-old’s tongue and wondered how it knew what ignorance meant.

“Look at your hands,” it said pointedly. “They’re awful, aren’t they?”

Loki looked at them obediently, stunned out of his senses, something which never happened. He was the one who frazzled people’s senses; and here was this practically a new-born in comparison to him, telling him of his sins while he blundered!

He felt his nostrils flaring and lowered his hands with some force, his face stretching into something perhaps an opponent would find threatening, but this child only looked at him curiously with a strange solemn glimmer in its eyes as it watched him.

“Look at your hands,” it repeated, then pointed at them and flapped its own.

Loki tore his scouring gaze from it and looked down at his hands once more. He turned them over, running his vision over their creases, their details, their length. Nothing.

After a few moments, he shook his head slowly and cast a questioning look back at the child.

“I admit that I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said flatly. “What am I meant to be seeing?”

“They drip with black,” the child pronounced. “Black which doesn’t belong to you.”

“Explain yourself.”

“It’s blood.” It nodded when his expression became blank. “Of the people you’ve hurt. Killed.”

He gave a harsh laugh to mask the strange quiver of his heart, fear seeping through his bones.

“Blood is red,” he said cuttingly. “You’ve missed that part of your homework, little creature. Now, you ought to go home and do it before some equally evil man comes to find you and hurts you.”

It shivered, then took a few steps forward; closer to him.

“If you killed by accident, the blood would be red.”

Loki felt a strange urge to push it away with his foot as the child took hold of his coat, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Hadn’t he threatened it a moment ago? And yet it was clinging to him like he was safe, for all the apparent black dripping from his hands. If it hadn’t said what she had a few moments ago, Loki would have been certain it had a few cogs missing beneath the soft and black of its hair.

“Some drops are red. Some you did not intend to die. But most are black, and so you are bad.” It looked up at him, as though for confirmation. “People who kill to achieve a… a selfish goal are evil. Aren’t they?”

Loki of Asgard made another motion with his hands, as though wiping them clean, then snorted at himself and folded them behind his back again.

He said nothing, but it was still staring at him. Plus, who was he to destroy the moral compass of a being who didn’t see him as king, he thought half-heartedly.

“Yes,” he replied softly, feeling oddly hollow and helpless. “They are evil.”

It observed him for a little while longer, then shrugged its small shoulders. “You will wash it off in years to come.”

Loki felt a pang of… something, in his chest. Something hopeful. “Really.”

“Really.” It nodded. “People pay with bad deeds with pain. That’s what Uncle said once, to Mister Anderson.”

It sighed, then looked back up at him from the daisies they were standing on, pity in its eyes. “I’m sorry you will get hurt.”

Loki would have perhaps felt his temper spike violently again, transforming from his restlessness at this statement, but it was quelled by the action of the child taking hold of his fingers.

“Don’t look so angry,” Henrietta Knott whispered. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Loki looked down at their hands. Hers was small and pink and very soft, as she held his pale forefinger and thumb, hard and toughened with scars in comparison. Something tugged at his heart; he sighed, then moved his hand so that it held hers. It felt good. Good and strange, because Henrietta looked astonishingly content with him doing so.

Loki’s hands were renowned for doing great and terrible things - wielding daggers, casting spells, being tools which expertly aided him with his ploys and weaving his lies - but using them to guide and reassure was certainly not one of them.

“I don’t want to get hurt either,” he admitted, again, more to himself than to the small thing pressed to his right leg.

“I know,” she replied, then looked up at him. “Can you take me home?”

Loki, the being with no conscience and a black soul raised an eyebrow at this proposal. “Do you really want me to hold your hand all the way?” he mocked. “Don’t you fear the black blood dripping on your pretty little coat and fingers?”

She laughed at him, as though he had said something particularly funny. She had a rich, gurgling laugh that even his bitterness and black ice had some trouble withstanding.

“Oh, you are silly.”

Loki frowned. Silly didn’t belong to his repertoire of things he would like to be called, especially not by beings who could barely talk. “I beg your pardon?”

“My fingers won’t be dirty.” She smiled. “I haven’t hurt anybody.”

“Not yet,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just wait until you’re older.”

Henrietta looked up at him and stopped laughing, looking too solemn for her age as her grey eyes widened. “Will I hurt people when I’m older?”

Loki had absolutely no idea. For a moment, he thought about toying with her as she had unwittingly done with his feelings since he’d met her, but he was holding her hand, it was delicate and soft like a chick and he’d be damned if anything happened to it while he was around.

“Oh, don’t worry. Everybody does,” he said as a throwaway comment as they started to walk. “In fact, I daresay you will break hearts like dinner plates when a table is turned over, with those eyes of yours.”

“Oh.”

She seemed crestfallen. Loki observed her with raised eyebrows as she sighed then as she said, “Then I will never grow up.”

A corner of his lips twitched. “No?”

“No,” she replied. “You know, in this book there was a boy who never grew up. He could fly. He flew to listen to this really nice girl read stories to her brothers about him, then flew back to his magical home in a land that was quite far away.”

“Indeed?”

“M-hm,” she hummed, stepping alongside him through the trees. “I won’t grow up either. A lot of grown-ups aren’t nice. So I will stay like this, hopefully. And won’t grow up.”

Loki bowed his head, wishing for a moment that he didn’t grow up either.

“Don’t,” he said softly, then fell silent as she did.

It was autumn, October. Leaves had fallen off the trees, jumping to their death and lay piled around them, skittering across the rich grass and carpeting the dirt paths. Though it was night, it was still pleasant enough for the creature beside him not to shiver. Loki didn’t shiver; he was an accursed jotun.

They hadn’t walked very far when Henrietta stopped.

“Oh, look!”

“What is it?” he snapped, for he had just begun to sink into dark thought and she’d disturbed his wallowing for the third time in the space of fifteen minutes.

“Floating leaves.” She bent over to look at whatever it was she was fascinated with. “There’s a puddle under there.”

“So-?”

Before he could pull her on, she slid her hand out of his and jumped straight into this puddle, splashing, squealing with laughter. Loki watched flabbergasted, trying to understand how jumping in a pooling of downpour and getting her clothes wet was a form of amusement, before the muddy water landed a few inches short of his shoes. He took an instant step back.

“What are you doing?!” He pulled her away from the water. “You crazy being. Ah, you-!”

She had kicked the puddle and stained the bottom of his pants with mud. He gave a disdainful scowl, dried them with a flash of green light, then glared down at her.

“Right! That’s it. I’m leaving you to the wolves. You can go and find your uncle and if you get consumed as a form of light supper, it serves you right.”

He finished scowling, then raised his hands in question, because she was staring at him in awe.

“What was that?!” she cried, stamping in delight. “Do that again!”

His brows furrowed. “Do what?”

She clapped her hands and made a sound like a mute frog being trod on, miming an explosion with her hands. “This!”

He frowned, then realised.

“Oh.” He snapped his fingers. “This?”

Zing. The green light danced up and down his form, lighting up the darkness with brilliance, and lifted his hair a little. Henrietta Knott jumped up and down, clapping, stamping, looking completely delighted, her little teeth glinting.

“Again! Again! Again!”

“Have you never seen magic before?” he asked incredulously, his heart thumping strangely, almost afraid of the amazement he saw in her eyes. “It’s not a rare sight.”

She gasped. “Was that magic?”

“What else would it be?” he said, then outstretched a hand and flashes of light sparked on its surface. “It is magic. My magic.”

“It's…!” She searched for words, pressing her little hands to her face in exaltation. “It’s magnificent!”

And then Loki laughed, straight from the bottom of his heart, something swelling his lungs so that he actually felt as though he was breathing, his mouth stretched so wide it made his face ache. She thought he was magnificent! She thought he was great! Loki wasn’t a madman! He was being complimented! Within moments, he had cast away all of his kingly dignity. He crouched down, disappeared with emerald flashes, reappeared in different places with a bang whilst Henrietta Knott turned round and round with feverish pleasure, squealing, gasping, clapping accordingly.

“Got you,” he hissed as he appeared behind her, apparently an evil wizard. “Found you! Now, I will cart you off to prison, to my jail. You will never be able to get out-!”

He made the mistake of crouching down when appearing. Henrietta gave a delighted yell of excitement and threw herself into his arms. They toppled over onto a pile of leaves, destroying it. Loki landed on his back, slightly winded.

“No,” he gasped when he got his breath back, remembering what function he currently fulfilled. “None of that. Get off me.”

But she didn’t. She climbed right on top of him and sat down on his chest, patting his face.

“You won’t lock me into prison now,” she chuckled. “I’m a dragon. I’ve got you instead.”

He looked up at this improbable dragon sitting on his chest and lowered his hands. He didn’t remember the last time he could speak this level of nonsense without having to watch eyes being rolled.

“No, you’re not.” He sighed, folding his hands on top of his stomach, then looked at her with almost fond resignation. “You’re a silly little girl, sitting on top of the god of mischief because he allowed you to do so.”

He pulled a face, raising his eyebrows for emphasis.

“As soon as I am up, I will lock you into a-” he disappeared in a green flash and reappeared behind her, scooping her up, “-dungeon. And no prince, king, nor warrior will ever be able to… to… to rescue…”

He froze, because Henrietta Knott threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight, still giggling. She didn’t move from that position, nuzzling into the soft of his robes beneath his armour, wriggling to get comfortable against him.

Loki had to swallow several times as he stood there dumbfounded, thoroughly convinced he was sick, because why in all nine realms did he have tears in his eyes? He was a trickster, he wielded daggers, he sowed chaos for his own amusement, he cut off heads and stabbed and slashed and killed. His heart was hard and dead, and yet it hurt, hurt as the small thing plastered to his chest and neck embraced him as though he was a hero.

“No, little girl,” he murmured, when he recollected himself. “Little girls do not hug evil men with… dripping hands and…”

He searched for words. “And horrible souls behind the eye.”

She looked at him, beamed, then kissed him on the cheek.

“I like you, Loki of Asgard.”

Loki abandoned reason. “Oh, hush,” he muttered, his voice cracking, then hugged her back carefully, smoothing her hair as she rested her little head on his shoulder.

He resumed the walk, placing each foot slowly and deftly so that he wouldn’t stumble, so that her yawns would quieten. Within moments, her breathing had regulated and she was completely still.

Loki was glad; sleeping prevented her from seeing the two trails his tears left behind upon his face. If she felt his chest moving up and down from quiet sobs, sobs which had been caged in his chest for years without him knowing, he didn’t know.

“You like me. You like me, do you?” he breathed, when he had walked a few minutes, feeling his soul through that small weight on his chest and shoulder. “A very unwise decision. A very foolish one, sweetheart.”

She stirred in her sleep, mumbling. Loki could have sworn it was a protest, and he smiled, sniffing and swallowing back the lump in his throat.

“If you say so, Henrietta Knott” he whispered, patting her back gently. “Whatever makes you happy.”

Five steps later, he paused and listened, frowning. A voice had echoed through the park. It was a male voice, a cry. Loki knew what a desperate cry sounded like, and that was what he had heard.

It came again. “Hattie! Oh, Odin… Henrietta!”

Loki didn’t want to shout, for that meant Hattie would wake up, but the cries came again, desperation came again, and so he stopped and replied.

“Here!” he called, feeling the pet stiffen on his shoulder as he startled her awake. “I have her!”

The voice stopped, then sounded again, though with less dismay and lined with hope. “Where?! Where?!”

Loki thought, then snapped his fingers. “The green light!”

The man to whom the voice belonged rushed into the clearing when the green stream of light cleared. He was tall, well built, his arms and chest the ones of a warrior, grey hair hung to his chin and a wild beard was braided down his loosely-clad chest.

“Oh, thank Odin!” he cried, then approached him with haste. “Thank you, Sir, thank you!”

He pulled up short the same moment Henrietta turned and slid out of Loki’s arms, close enough for his features to be observed. His nose was hooked and an intricate, crimson tattoo snaked from his cheek to the left of his forehead.

“My lord,” he managed to utter, before Hattie plastered herself to him with joyful cries of, “Uncle, Uncle!”

“Uncle indeed,” Loki said coldly, sadly realising his arms felt strangely empty. “What uncle forsakes their five-year-old niece at a time like this? In a place like this? Do you realise what could have happened to her, lest she had not come across me?”

He felt his hands clenching, though by all rights he shouldn’t have cared at all. “I hear this happens again, and I’ll personally ensure you’re skewered!”

The man dropped to one knee and bowed his head, though he did not seem afraid.

“Forgive me, my lord,” he said, then looked up and picked up Henrietta. “Thank Odin she was with you. I thank you for your efforts in delivering her to me. I fear to think what would have happened if you hadn’t found her.”

Loki scoured the man with his gaze, then he nodded in recognition. “It’s you,” he said. “Dauneren Haldanson.”

He gave a single chuckle, watching Henrietta as she slid from his arms and yawned sleepily.

“The banished. The foul. The traitor.”

The man bowed his head again, though he didn’t take his eyes off Hattie as she began to explore the vicinity. “The one who led the jotuns into Asgard, two-hundred years ago.” He smiled sadly. “My word remains the same. I had nothing to do with the incident. The assassination was pulled off as though I had a hand in it, but… well. I didn’t have a hand in it, not that time.”

His eyes flicked to him. “You know as the god of lies, my lord, that I am speaking the truth.”

“You wouldn’t be speaking so freely if you were not,” he replied, glad his tears had dried off and he wasn’t red in the face any longer, then smiled. “But, as they say… who lives by the sword, dies by the sword. Or at least faces torture by sharp objects.”

Haldanson grimaced. “It is so. You make a lot of enemies as an assassin, as unlikely as it may seem.”

“Hah,” Loki laughed, then trained his gaze on Hattie, who had run off to jump in another puddle of water. Haldanson followed his gaze and chuckled.

“I do apologise for any strange things she may have told you, my lord. She is gifted with talents many would kill to possess, but… you know, being only five, she has little idea about tact.”

They watched her, these two treacherous men both fully capable of murder, as Hattie squealed in the puddles, ran up to a tree in which curious squirrels observed her, the creatures probably wondering whether they had found a lost brethren in the dead of night.

“You can imagine what a fright she has given some people, my liege, recounting their darkest sins before their very eyes.” Haldanson scratched his beard and chuckled. “You know, she asks me about mine at least five times daily.”

Loki gave him half a smile. “Must be an interesting life.”

“Oh, very much so. Quite an ordeal. You can’t reason with her, she simply knows better than you.”

Loki felt an odd sort of pride at that statement, even though he had only known this little girl for about half an hour. Haldanson called Hattie over when she attempted to climb the tree to tame the squirrel - she pouted but came, seeing her attempt was futile, then took Haldanson’s hand. Loki wondered whether she could see any black on his hands, as Haldanson was no angel.

“I can,” she replied, making him start. “But Uncle’s hands are less black than yours. He’s already paid. Almost paid. His don’t drip anymore, but yours do.”

Haldanson frowned and looked slightly uncomfortable, but Loki raised his eyebrows and grinned, impressed.

“She can read thoughts?”

“Only if she wants to.” Haldanson scratched his beard again. “I reckon she’ll stop wanting when she grows a little older and begins to understand some of the things she sees. She needs to learn control. The hardest one there is… Don’t you, Hattie?”

Hattie nodded sweetly, twirling around in her yellow boots and pink, fluffy coat, looking at Loki with round, grey eyes.

“Will you walk me to school tomorrow, Loki of Asgard?”

Haldanson spluttered at her outrightness, astonished.

“Now, Hattie,” he managed after a few seconds, “the prince of Asgard is very busy and has much more important things to do than walking little girls to school.”

Hattie pursed her lips. “Loki is the king of Asgard, Uncle.”

Haldanson looked perplexed, glanced at Loki, who looked back coolly, then when he gave no countering statement, his eyes widened and he bowed a little frantically with a hand on his breast.

“Well, I had no idea,” he managed. “Last time I was in Asgard you were a prince, my Lord-”

“But can he walk me to school?” Henrietta tugged on her uncle’s sleeve impatiently. “I don’t like Doris, she smells of cat and doesn’t like me, and you’re always very busy, uncle, and-”

“It’s alright,” Loki said, looking down at her with a smile - so many smiles in such a short space of time which weren’t a mask, an admirable record. “I will consider.”

“Oh, fantastic!” Hattie laughed and clapped her hands and beamed at him, making his chest swell and want to scoop her up and press her to his chest again. “I would love to look at your sparks again!”

Loki laughed and shook his head. “And I thought she was a simple mortal creature.”

“She is from Asgard, like you, my king,” Haldanson bowed his head, still looking slightly nervous. “And far too sure of herself for her own safety. Well. We’ll be off home. It’s getting late. It was an honour to meet you, my lord.”

Loki inclined his head as Haldanson bowed, then raised a finger as he urged Hattie to do the same.

“No,” he said, motioning for her to stand. “She doesn’t need to bow to me.”

Hattie laughed as Haldanson nodded weakly, then she sprang forward and clasped him.

“Goodbye, Loki of Asgard. I can’t wait to see you again.”

“I will come,” he promised, bending down. “If not tomorrow, then after that.”

He wouldn’t need to be told twice. Not even once. Not when she was staring up at him as though she was really glad to see him, as though he had the power to turn her day into something bright and warm with his cold, jotun hands which could only destroy and consume.

“Good,” she said, then reached up to hold his cheeks. “Good, good, good.”

He gently took her hands away before he had any strange spells again, swallowing. “Off you go, now.”

“Okay.” She patted his cheek, then flew back to her uncle and grabbed his hand. Haldanson nodded in reply to Loki’s look, bowed again for good measure, then picked Hattie up and turned.

Loki watched them disappear into the dark, raising a hand in farewell when Henrietta waved at him.

He stood there long in the dark, looking up at the sky.

Your hands are black. It’s blood. Of the people you’ve hurt.

Loki lifted his hands up to his face, squinting, but of course, he couldn’t see anything amiss. There were quite a few white scars running over his flesh from battle and feuds, but other than that they were as pale and slender as ever.

“Don’t be a fool,” he muttered, letting them drop. “It’s just a childish fancy.”

This childish fancy, however, left an impact upon him that only the next few years could tear from his soul, because it was only when Loki was back in Asgard, in his own empty, royal chambers did he realise that he was clutching the material of his clothes just above his heart, where Henrietta had slept, with a strange obstinacy and longing.

He sank down onto his bed with a sigh, trying to remember what it had felt like to hold someone who trusted him and… liked him. Not because they had to, but because they chose to.

But he was in too deep. He had set things in motion with Thor’s banishment to Midgard which he couldn’t undo, and had to give up hoping for warmth and succumb back to the cold he couldn’t survive without.

And he knew not that in a span of time insignificant to someone of his lifespan, he would become a traitor, that he would fall of Bifrost bridge upon realising that there was no place for him in Asgard, running from shame and Odin’s - his once-father’s - indifferent face, who watched him fall without blinking. That he would become unrecognisably twisted, that he would suffer agony beyond his imagination, that he would lose the trust of the one being who he treasured beyond all.

Though, what happened following that was something he wouldn’t have expected from any pages fate had written for him and if you asked him, he would have looked you in the eyes and solemnly replied that he was undeserving of a moment of it.

~~~*~*~*~~~

That's the first chapter! As always, feedback is appreciated!

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