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stuff-from-the-void-matron · 3 years

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Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (3)

(c!technoblade x fem!reader)

(some people liked chapter 2 so here’s chapter 3. whether or not there’s a chapter 4 is dependent on if this one gets any comments/reblogs.)

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You’re not exactly sure when your plans for a house shifted from ‘maybe a two story house’ into ‘some kinda roman temple/shrine type building’ instead.

Probably after the third time you had to tear down what you were building because it just didn’t look right. You’d initially not been able to go anywhere with the white quartz (you’d made a base but it looked stupid so you’d tossed it) so you’d switched it with a birch wood. That was where the problems started. First you’d tried your hand at making a cute little cottagecore house, but it just didn’t look cute to you and instead came out kinda frumpy? So you scrapped it, even though it pained you.

“Hours wasted.”

Then you tried making another house, this one taller and with dark wood. But it ended up looking like some kind of Viking home, no matter how much you tweaked it, which totally clashed with the vibrant floral scenery around you. It would work better in a snowy biome. So you’d scrapped that one too, none too happy either.

“Why do I suck?”

Then you’d tried your hand at making a cute mushroom house! But…. it was awful. No matter what you did it just didn’t look right?? You tried making the stem ‘natural’ like it would look in minecraft but then it looked too artificial to you. Then you tried making it look more normal but then it just ended up looking wonky. Long story short.. you hated it. You scrapped it, maybe a little more angry than the previous two times. That was when you’d gone back to the white quartz blocks.

And you started with a huge square, then that sorta morphed into a circle. Or as ‘circular’ as this world’s building blocks could get. Then it just sorta.. went from there? Before you knew it you had a circular white temple/shrine with a domed and tiered ceiling and four tall stained glass windows with star and sky designs. You’d gotten into the construction as it had begun to be more fun. You’d even hung lanterns by chains from the ceiling in symmetrical points and it gave the whole place a nice vibe you think. Especially when it started raining outside.

Once it was all done to your satisfaction you just sat in the middle of the quartz floor and gazed up at the gently swaying lanterns. You’re glad you’d ended up with this place, it looks pretty and has a calm vibe you can resonate with.

It would be dawn soon so you decided since you were done you’d go to bed since you had nothing else to do at the moment. Or well that had been the plan until you placed down your bed and couldn’t help but notice how utterly ridiculous a single bed in the corner of this huge temple looked. It actually made you snort before deciding then and there you needed a bed that somewhat matched the temple aesthetic you guessed you were going for now.

-0-

You ended up making this huge canopy bed with curtains and a platform you had to walk up a step to get to the three beds you’d put on it to look right. Under normal circumstances you’d not like such an overly lavish bed but it certainly fit the almost regal aesthetic your new temple home had. Which was just fine you supposed, it’s not like you were opposed to it. Just not what you’d planned to do from the get go.

Only problem now was.. the place still looked weirdly empty of life. Like one of those barren ‘minimalism’ nightmare homes rich people get off to. So you went through the inventory and started looking for stuff to decorate with. On the wall to the left of the entrance you set up an area for a brewing stand and cauldron as well as an ender chest, mostly just because it looked cool with the purple particles. You also hung up some item frames on the wall by the quartz counters you set up and picked out a bunch of pretty colored potions to hang in them.

Then on the opposite wall you made a little library with an alcove in the middle for an enchantment table. With a lantern on top of the bookshelf next to the crafting table and clay pots of flowers on the uppermost bookshelves to give the area a nicer look. You even added some fluffy carpet in front of the area to enhance the comfiness. And when you went over to the front door and then turned to look at the whole space you smiled because it really did look good. Larger than you’d intended, sure, but also very comfy now too.

You think you’re done with the inside until you look up at the bare walls between the stained glass windows. They were a little… naked. So you tried hanging up some paintings but… they looked terrible. The ‘round’ angle of the windows kept the options for what paintings you could put up pretty narrow. So you forgot that idea and instead tried putting up item frames! But you put some up and disliked it almost immediately. It felt way too busy so you got rid of those too.

You were getting tired of decorating so you just grabbed a random banner (purple because why not?) and then you grabbed a handful of different colored dyes before pulling out a loom. You tried a bunch of different designs, threw out most of them because they either ended up with ugly clashing colors or looking way too busy. But you finally settled on one that was a purple banner with an orange gradient coming up from the bottom and finally a gold sun right in the middle. It looked very pretty, like a sunset!

Once you were happy you hung a couple inside then on a whim you even hung a couple outside your door on either side. It made the outside look prettier in your opinion so once you were done (for real this time) you went and just flopped into bed, not feeling more than a touch tired but with nothing else to do at the moment. So you snuggled into your big cozy bed and drifted off to sleep~

-0-

Days passed since you built your home and you kept up work around the village, planting bamboo and berry bushes in a wall around it in a circle as a form of defense against the Illagers. They were kinda jerks and seemed to only want to kill villagers. Which wasn’t cool. And yeah you could have dug a moat or pit around it instead you guessed but you didn’t want any of the villagers falling in and you felt like they would…

So a wall of bamboo and prickly berry bushes it was. And it works! And looks dope. So win/win.

And it was as you were on your way to put some lights at the bottoms of the ponds and rivers that you noticed it from the corner of your eye. One of your sunset banners! But it was hanging up outside of the weaponsmith’s place instead of on your temple home where you knew you left it. But then you noticed another one hanging up outside the stonemason’s workshop…

You look over at your home up on the hill and see your banners still in place. And you know none of them trudged all the way up there just to steal one from the inside so you decide to investigate more in the village. And the further you walk in the more banners with your pattern on them you see. Actually every building you pass has at least one hung up somewhere near the door. You blinked before chuckling a little and thinking to yourself,

‘Oh! They all must have seen the banner I made and liked it! So they made their own to hang up. That’s actually pretty cute. I’m glad they like it.’

You were blissfully ignorant to the fact that the villagers have started to see you as their saint of sorts. Their goddess of prosperity and kindness. Without whom they would still be lost and living in pathetic huts and with no drive to acquire a skill and better themselves. They honestly look back on those times as such a dark period of their lives. When they were ignorant of their own abilities without your blessing to guide them. They owed you their lives and they wanted to show their thanks to you.

So when they saw you put up your sunset banners on your temple they quickly went to the shepherd and asked him to make them some just like it! And the shepherd, with his skill being a master thanks to your wonderful trading help, was easily able to craft such banners. Every villager had at least one by the time the sun was going down, all of them proudly being hung on the outsides of their homes and work buildings to show their allegiance to you!

But it wouldn’t stop there. The villagers wanted to give back even a fraction of what you have given to them.

-0-

In the following weeks you definitely noticed the villagers acting… odd. It started small at first, with them each coming to you and giving you gifts. The shepherd gave you a pair of blankets that were beautifully crocheted with this fluffy wool yarn, one that’d been dyed a soft baby pink while the other was a soothing sea foam color. You thanked him with a smile three times over and he seemed endlessly happy you liked them. You took them home and laid them across your bed and liked the pop of color they provided your space.

Though after that the farmer and leatherworker both met you at the entrance to your temple and each gifted you some things they thought you’d like. The farmer happily handed over a full basket of freshly baked bread along with another basket containing a bushel of golden carrots and almost a full melon’s worth of glistering melon slices. While the leatherworker offered up a pair of dainty leather sandals that looked like they would lace up your legs to just below your knees. And also what looked like a prettily crafted leather utility belt! It had lotus details and golden studs and buckles on the front and back. And one large pocket, one medium zipper pocket, and two smaller pockets. You loved all of their gifts and thanked them both over and over while safely putting the food away (and maybe eating some bread right then) and putting the slippers and belt on.

You were beyond grateful and thought that was the end of that.

You… were wrong.

-0-

As the days turned into weeks you were lavished with more and more offerings. It took you a while to realize that’s what they were; offerings. You got a little uncomfortable with all the gifts after a bit but when you started to refuse them the villagers looked so sad so you began to accept them again. Especially after they tried to make ‘better’ stuff for you after your initial refusal, under the impression the last ones weren’t good enough for you or something. It started to get hard to take in all the gifts, because sometimes you weren’t available in the village (you still liked to explore) or because you were working on something and they couldn’t reach you. So as a solution you set up a double chest outside your temple for them to put the gifts in.

They eagerly adapted to that and each night you’d clean out the chest, putting away practical gifts and discreetly getting rid of ones you had WAY too many of. Like the food. You had a full double chest of food and you didn’t need anymore, but saying so would probably hurt their feelings. So this was the easiest way. Plus a lot of the gifts you actually DID like. Like the sandals, hip pocket belt, and the pretty white dress you were currently wearing. The under part of it was just a simple white sleeveless mini dress that went above your knees (you’re not sure it was that shirt when you first tried it on..) and the over part of the dress was a sheer white maxi dress with loose ruffled sleeved that hung off your shoulders, and a slit on each side that helped with ease of movement.

You’d taken to wearing the dress, the hip pocket belt, and sandals every day. They were all comfortable and looked pretty good on you now that you think about it. Not to mention the fabric was light and breathable too, which helped keep you from getting too hot. You’re not sure what kind of fabric it’s made of, but whatever it is it’s light enough to not make you sweat but it’s also heavy enough to keep you from getting cold when it’s windy. Regardless, it’s your go-to outfit these days.

But aside from the offerings and stuff, you had to sit down and really examine your current position. You really took the time to pay attention to how the villagers were treating you. And you eventually came to the conclusion that they were treating you like some kind of saint or deity. They gave you the best of their wares as offerings, they took on your banner as their own (presumably as a show of loyalty), and they almost seemed to worship the ground you walked on. This isn’t even mentioning the statues that they’d put up of you… Like, they were good! Very well done and made of polished white quartz but.. it was still strange. Though like everything else you can’t say you weren’t getting used to it all.

You sighed and rolled with it.

-0-

You realized one day you’d never been to the Nether. And you wondered if the rules here (like mobs not bothering you) was also true there? You couldn’t deny you were sorta excited to go see, but also scared. You HATED the freaking Hoglins when you played Minecraft before this place. They were always so aggressive and you can’t count how many times they’d killed you, the bastards. But your curiosity won out over your anxiety so you grabbed the enchanted diamond pickaxe you’d been given and then paused while grabbing a stack of gold bars.

“Wait I need to wear gold right? Or the Piglins will be all mad,” you said as you grabbed a gold helmet from your inventory.

You thoughtlessly went to put it on but jerked the helmet back when it clanged against something hard. Something hard that made you wince as a small shock of pain went through your skull. A curse left your lips as you asked out loud what the fuck THAT was about. You were in the middle of trying to come up with an explanation when you reached up with your free hand and flinched when it came into contact with something on your head. Something that 200% was NOT your hair or skull. Panic bubbled inside you and your stomach sank into your feet as you whipped the gold helmet up to look into its polished surface to see yourself.

Horns? Little blunt horns… On your head.

With a shaky hand you reached up, sort of hoping this was just a dream. But when your fingertips brushed against the soft velvety texture of the horns your breathing grew faster and you pulled your hand away like you’d been burned. You dropped the helmet, not even hearing it clatter against the floor as you stumbled back, nearly tripping over the step that led up to the platform your bed was on, but you somehow managed to get to the bed and sit down.

Before you knew it you’d burst into tears and buried your face into your hands, sobbing and unable to cope with this new fuckery.

You’ve had to deal with so much weird insane shit since ending up here, wherever the fuck HERE was. You were honestly so tired. You’ve done your best to stay calm, stay sane, and just keep going. And for the most part you have! You focused on surviving, building, and dealing with the villagers. You’d probably feel silly for breaking down over some dumb horns later, especially after you’d barely batted an eye over your weird ears, teeth, and EYES. But the breakdown was probably more to do with life deciding to give you another slice of bullshit despite your overflowing plate. At least that’s what the logical part of your mind was thinking.

But the illogical part, the emotional part, was just so done. So you cried and cried and cried your very soul out until no sound was leaving you anymore. And then, once you were cried out and exhausted you weakly crawled onto the pillows and just passed out.

You’d deal with this new shit later.

-0-

Far on the outskirts of the opposite side of the village from your temple a young boy with golden hair stumbled across the entrance to said village.

He’d never seen this village before and was curious. He’d have gladly stormed in and started going through villager chests for loot but it was getting close to dusk and his older brother said he needed to get back asap. Now usually he’d shrug off his brother’s bossy nature but he’d sounded worried so he decided to hurry and get back before it got too late.

But before he turned and left he marked down this village’s coordinates so he could get back to it later..

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tag list:

@salinesoot @lady-bee-fechin @kacchasu @putridjoy @lunawritesstories @galaxypankitty3030 @paradigmax @zachariethememerie @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107

#technoblade x reader #technoblade #dsmp #dream smp #mcyt x reader #tommyinnit #tommyinit mcyt #c!techno #c!tommy

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hops-hunny · 3 years

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You Can Be the Boss

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.2k

Request: N/A but it’s based off of this rambling here

Summary: Women are beautiful, but they sure don’t make ‘em like her.

Warnings: Weed, Alcohol, Mentions of sex.

A/N: I wrote this to cope with the copious amounts of work I had due but I finished it all so now we celebrate!

Hogwarts had many things but one thing it lacked severely was normality. Not that it was a problem, nobody who attended Hogwarts was normal but it didn’t stop a portion of muggle born students from feeling a bit homesick to things their muggle friends did at their own schools. That’s how the talent shows started. At first, the students tried to get it officiated by the school. Dumbledore thought it was a wonderful idea!....if it was professor supervised and when it turned out that Snape was the only professor with enough freetime on his hands, the idea of having it being school ran quickly flew out the window. But looking back on it now, many were happy they went with the idea of going behind the professors backs. It wasn’t like they weren’t aware, they just had no proof of it all happening. The atmosphere of the talent shows were different from ordinary talent shows, however.

For starters, anything went. Any talent you had you were encouraged to bring it no matter how big or small it was or if it was “school appropriate”. But the pro to this was also booze and bud, meaning that everyone had a good time no matter what. Although, as it would turn out there were many talented people at Hogwarts. So, for the past few months every Friday everyone would gather in the room of requirement, watching the many ups and downs of performances. Neville started frequenting there as often as he could. It was a win-win, his friends got free entertainment and he had a chance to make some money from selling to chumps with too much cash on their hands. What better way was there to spend the night?

His hazel eyes snapped up at the feeling of his blunt being ripped out of his hand. He went to swear, glaring at whoever was stupid enough to do that but quickly stopped as he saw who it was. He watched with wide eyes as the tip of it went between her pretty (l/c) lips, exhaling smoke. (Y/n) (L/n). She was one of those girls you either knew or you didn’t but more than likely, you knew her. Before 5th year, no one so much as spared her a glance but after a very fortunate late puberty in their current year (7th) she was slowly becoming all anyone could talk about. It was truly amazing what a haircut and a bit of weight in your hips could do for your social life. He eyed her curiously as she looked down at him.

“You comin’ tonight?” she asked, exhaling another puff of smoke into his face. (Y/n) put the joint back in his hand, moving the heavy guitar case into her now free hand.

“Yeah. ‘Spose I am.” He mumbled, eyes trailing down the expanse of her plush thighs. They were on full display due to the skirt she wore that left nothing to the imagination. His eyes locked with her (e/c) ones as she hummed, nodding as she took the blunt back from him walking off. She flashed him a smile once more, winking as she turned the corner going merlin knows where.

“Oi! What does she think she’s doing? You really gonna let her take the blunt from you like that just because she’s fit?” Ron complained, glaring at the boy who was set with the rest of their group. Neville shrugged, turning his eyes back to his book as he turned the page.

“If you’re so bothered by it why don’t you go take it back yourself?” Neville sassed. They all looked at Ron waiting for a response, laughing as he had nothing to say but a small ‘piss off’ under his breath.

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

Neville wasn’t one to put too much into his appearance. He’d usually just throw on a sweater vest over one of his uniform shirts and call it a day. However after the conversation he had had with (Y/n) earlier, he couldn’t help but wanna look nice. Was she flirting with him? He sighed as he glanced at his appearance in the mirror for a bit. ‘I doubt it.’ he thought. He shook the negative thoughts out of his head, packing his satchel with a few different strains. Just because some pretty girl was batting her pretty little eyes at him didn’t mean he was going to forget the reason he went to these things in the first place. The only other time Neville made this much money was Gryffindor common room parties and even then, it was only by a little.

But even as he was checking his appearance once again, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts drift. “Why am I wigging out? It’s not like we haven’t talked before.” He said out loud to himself. (Y/n) was a frequent buyer from him and even though he didn’t know her personally, she was one of the few people whose faces he remembered. At first, he was extremely annoyed by her. Who did she think she was showing up at his dorm at 3AM just to buy a bit of fucking jane? Every wednesday at the same time, she’d show up at his door (in a negligee that was far too short might he add) with that dopey look on her face asking to buy. And every single time without a doubt, he’d sell it to her. He had to admit, after a while he even started to enjoy the girl’s appearance. It gave him something to look forward to during his mundane school week.

“Ready to go, Nev? If we leave now, we can use a secret passage my brothers’ showed me.” Ron said, opening the door to Neville’s door. The lanky boy cleared his throat, giving the boy a nod as he wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. Without another word, they both began their way ready for the night to unfold.

As usual, the talent show didn’t disappoint...for all the wrong reasons. Even though the cringe worthy performances were top notch entertainment and he had already made quite a bit of money, he still couldn’t stop from searching the crowd for a certain head of (h/c) hair. Where was she? After the stunt she had pulled earlier, he was sure she would be here. She had some nerve doing that and then not showing up. However, as he turned his gaze back to the stage, he saw the woman of the hour herself. She was in an oversized crochet sweater dress and a pair of combat boots. His eyes looked up in wonder as she took the stage, sitting on a wooden stool that was placed from the last sad excuse of a performance.

“It’s a bloody shame that she’s so fucking hot. Poor thing is going to embarrass herself singing up there.” Ron said, taking a sip from the beer he had in his hand. Neville nodded in agreement, taking a hit from his blunt but not really paying mind to his friend. It was hard to do so when the girl of his dreams was on the stage a mere foot away from him. He was absolutely intoxicated by her (and the few shots he had taken a bit ago) but he had to agree it would suck when she-”

“You taste like the fourth of July

Malt liquor on your breath, my, my”

She sang into the microphone softly. Neville’s jaw dropped in awe at the sound of her voice which was nothing short of angelic. He wasn’t the only one who was stunned considering the whole crowd went silent, a stark contrast from the loud chatter and laughter from before. He watched as she strummed at the guitar in her hands, looking up from the ground into the crowd. Mesmerized wasn’t even the right word to describe the state he was in.

“I love you but I don’t know why…”

His eyes were focused on her lips, taking in every word she said. Harry nudged him, mouthing the words ‘look up’ to him as a small pause had come into the song. Neville looked at him confused before trailing his eyes up, gasping when he saw that hers were locked on his own. She smiled and flashed him a wink before continuing her song, leaning in forward. His own body began to subconsciously drift forward to but at the last second she pulled away and continued to sing.

"Did you see that? She definitely wants me." Seamus boasted confidently. The others looked at him dumbfounded at the fact he could get even more idiotic than ever before.

"Don't be fucking dumb mate! She was clearly looking at me." Ron chimed in, causing another round of even more exasperated looks to be thrown the ginger's way. They truly were dumb and dumber.

"I-I think both of you are wrong. (Y/n) was looking at.." Harry trailed off as the girl stood up, dancing around the stage with her guitar as she continued to sing. Not a single pair of eyes weren't on her at the moment. Could you blame anyone? When a beautiful girl with the voice of a siren is on stage, you'd be a fool not to. However, dumb and dumbers’ argument ceased as she made very clear eye contact with their awkward friend.

“You can be the boss, daddy

You can be the boss”

“That’s all me boys.” Neville said, a triumphant smirk taking over his place as Dean leaned over to give him a fist bump. As much as (Y/n) had him wrapped around her finger, it appeared she was wrapped around his too. All the angry glares being sent his direction were only fuel to the pride he felt growing in his chest. Such a pretty girl, the same pretty girl who plagued all his wet dreams and shower thoughts, was not only on stage singing in front of him, but directly to him as well. She reached a hand forward, tips of her fingers lightly brushing against his flushed cheeks.

“I like you a lot, I like you a lot

Don’t let it stop”

“This is totally unfair. One of the hottest chicks in our year and she’s pining over Longbottom.” Seamus grumbled, grimacing as the liquor went down his throat hard. Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

“Jealous much?” he asked no one in particular, as that could be said about most of the guys they were sitting with.

“Bad to the bone, sick as a dog

You know that I like, like you a lot

Don’t let it stop”

Neville felt his own lips curl up into a smile at the sight of the one that belonged to the angel in front of him. However the cute moment didn’t last long cause once again, Ron chimed in with something else.

“Neville? Bad? He still sleeps in pajama sets!” he exclaimed quietly, earning a ‘shh!’ from Harry. The boy in question leaned forward, looking at his ginger friend.

“Is this really coming from the boy who needs Mummy’s howler to fall asleep at night?” that shut him right up. Harry snorted, high fiving him for bringing up the embarrassing piece of information.

The girl continued to sing, eyes never leaving Neville’s for a second. Ron and Seamus’s petty comments had ceased as well. Even though they weren’t the one receiving attention, they could still admit the girl had pipes on her. When the song was over she stood up, bowing as the silence of the crowd quickly erupted in cheers and claps from the breathtaking performance. There were a few more people left but no one paid much mind to them. He found himself feeling bad for them. Even if they were good, none of them could top the performance of the night.

As the night began to come to a close, (Y/n) found herself over to Neville again parking herself in his lap which he gladly accepted. She looked up at him, smiling shyly. It was almost comedic due to the words she had so sinfully sung to him only 45 minutes ago. Neville ignored the way his friends gawked at him. He’d deal with that another time.

“Come back to my room and split a spliff?” she asked, looking down as she picked at her fingers. He grabbed her hands, leaning in close to her.

“Only if I can eat your pussy afterwards.” he said confidently. He said it quiet enough to not draw attention but just loud enough that his friends would hear. (Y/n) felt her face grow warm as she nodded, hopping up from his lap as she dragged him off to her room.

Neville 1, blokes 0.

Extra:

“Seriously?! Is it really that easy? What does he have that I don’t?” Seamus said, mind running over the times he’d attempted saying things like that. The only place it had gotten him was on the ground after he had his balls kicked!

“It’s gotta be the weed. After all, who wouldn’t wanna sleep with the weed man? Free pot!” Ron exclaimed, trying to rationalize what had just happened.

“Aren’t you the residential booze man of Hogwarts? If that was the case, you’d have an easier time with women too.” Dean said, causing Harry to nod in agreement. Ron simply grumbled, slamming his empty bottle down as he walked off from the cackling group of blokes.

#harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter #Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #neville longbottom x reader #neville x you #neville longbottom x you #neville x y/n #neville longbottom x y/n

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years

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A Cure for Insomnia CH.2

Getting back to your little one story cottage, you can only manage to rush in and run about in a mad dash as you try to accomplish getting ready for work and getting something to eat. Running through choices in your head as you change and freshen up, nothing sounds good. There's not much time since your shift starts at nine and to make it to the store you need to leave by eight twenty. You got home at eight fifteen, and while Nate, your manager, has never seemed to give a fuck what you did at work you're still in your probationary period and would like to keep the easiest job you've ever had.

It's a really simple gig, seeing as the store you work at is actually a front for some illegal activity. The variety of crime you aren't sure of, but you are aware there's no way you guys do no business and yet they can afford to pay thirty dollars an hour. Thankfully just keeping your mouth shut and being nice to little Jo, the owner's daughter, is enough to keep you in the cushiest job in the world. The store's front is a regular old book store, all the books are real, the registers work, you're able to sell books and you've run to the bank to do the weekly deposits twice for Book & Nook. The front is very legitimate or it would be if the amount of customers ever equaled the sales made.

Again you don't ask questions, because for thirty dollars an hour you get to goof off for a couple hours a day, plus you get a bonus when you watch little Jo at the shop. She's a real sweet eleven year old, she's got tourettes and took a shine to you the first time she saw you tic. While you both might not suffer the same disorder she finds the common ground nice, like it's not just her. It's not even hard to watch her or enjoy her company, she'll come bouncing in with her excited chittering and hands clapping spilling all the latest gossip that comes with being in middle school. And boy is there a lot of gossip.

It's really nice seeing that Jo has friends at school and is even considered a “popular” kid. You remember how tough school was because no one understood you and teachers never cared enough about your personality to bring up the fact that it was clear to most faculty members that you had Autism. You excelled academically so what did it matter if you got picked on for oversharing information or for finishing assignments the minute they were handed to you. As bittersweet as the parallels are you're so glad Jo doesn't have to go through that. Never would have thought a southern school could be so accepting, much less a middle school at that.

Tearing through the kitchen you honestly can't find anything that you want to eat right now. And even after a long night of hiking/dissociating you don't think you're that peckish at all. Figuring it's best to at least take something to quell any future nausea you grab a Pedialyte Pop from the freezer. As fast as you entered your home you left, and not before ensuring twice that the door was locked and secured. While living on the outskirts of town saves you from many potential robberies, and worse salesmen, there's still the chance of some lunatic with an ax hiding out in a closet to murder you. Better safe now than sorry later.

Pulling into park behind the shop right at nine is a blessing. You run into the shop to clock in blurting out a quick 'Morning' to Nate, who was carrying a particularly large box, as you passed by him. In a flash you were back at your car retrieving your newly prized deer skull. Lungs burning a bit from the all out sprint you just did you took a little extra time to close the trunk and lock your car up to catch your breath, and avoid any light headiness you might get from the empty stomach workout. Eager to share the wonders of death with your best work friends, and by that you mean Nate your manager...and only other coworker, you rush back into the building.

The shop was quiet as usual as you made your way through the door though you were in the back room where only employees could roam you had the slightest suspicion that the front of shop was just the same. It's there you find Nate, now lugging a medium sized box around to a side table. He did this a lot you suspect some type of smuggling but hey plausible deniability and all those legal matters. The taller dark haired man sees you and just as he's about to wave you over, notices your prize with a raised brow.

“The fuck d'you bring in the store?” he doesn't seem amused by whatever it is he thinks you're up to. “Deer skull.” Lifting it up in one hand and pointing at it, “Found this guy on my hike last night...or rather this morning actually.”

“YN, we talked about this, you said you'd get some sleep last night. No adventures remember.” he's only two years older than you and yet he acts as if he's ten years. He must be an old soul, or enjoys the role of care giver...or you're making him go gray prematurely, anything's possible.

“Eh, I remember saying I'd 'try' and get sleep.” for someone who's body is running on fumes your cheekiness is astronomical, “operative word being 'try', remember.”

It's a long silence as Nate decides if he wants to deal with your bullshit at this moment. After a minute or so he concedes leaning back on the table behind him. “Let's hear it.” and you perk up immediately.

“Cool, so I was walking along the tree line and spotted him, tried to find more but seems there's only one piece. Judging by the size of his antlers I'd say he was nearly fully grown. Now my plan is to do whatever treatments taxidermists do to bones and,” you continue to word vomit at the tired twenty-six year old in front of you, about the joys and wonders of taxidermy and the likely hood of ever finding a skull so nicely preserved.

“I can do that in here right?” even though it's been phrased as a question, you aren't asking permission, you're just being polite and letting Nate know the storage room will house your creepy deer skull antics for today...maybe the week you need to find a taxidermist book to figure out what you need to do.

Nate gives up and leaves with his box of new books to let you have full run of the back to do your weird vulture culture shit. He figures he's just too old to understand the new obsessions with the macabre. He hopes his cousin won't take to shit like this, the kid's weird enough as it is, no need to put another target on her back. Nate sets off to take down the Harry Potter sets in favor of this new comic series little Jo wanted.

Already taking his silence as the go ahead you place your found skull on the table and rush off into the store front to find a book on taxidermy and hopefully more specifically about bones. The set up and organization of the store reminds you a lot of the scene in Brendan Fraser's The Mummy 1997 where Evie is on the ladder and somehow causes all the book shelves to fall like dominoes. So unsafe, yet all book stores and libraries seem to have this set up. With the tall shelves it makes it difficult to accurately get a read on the spines. You don't even know what section taxidermy actually falls under, education maybe?

“Nate, where do you think a book on taxidermy would be?” you called out as you passed by him.

“...hobby?” that didn't sound right but you'd give it a shot anyway.

This should be fun, the hobby section was so disorganized and it took up nearly half the store too, Book & Nook had everything from fishing, to crochet, cooking, the art of film making, hell even had a cryptid hunting book a book that you may have to look into a bit later. You closed your eyes and let your intuition guide you, when you looked up you saw a thin black...vine, no whisp? It undulates in less than rhythmic movements nearly like a snake but it has no head, and not unlike a tentacle but without suckers. It's another hallucination so you were keen to ignore it until it stretched past your head, giving you an added auditory hallucination where you swore you could hear wind rushing past your ears, it swirled around you until it flew to the shelf and tapped on a book. Cautiously you walked over to it, it's never good to play into these delusions. Once you got close enough the black shape was gone but on the shelf was a creme colored paper back titled “Manual of Taxidermy: Complete Guide of Preserving Birds and Mammals.”

Walking to Nate with the book in your hands you asked him to read it and make sure you weren't having an episode and making everything up right now. You'd have to try harder to go to sleep tonight if that were the case.

“Oh you found your book huh?” he said looking down at the title.

Well this is getting weird fast, but you nod nonetheless. Might as well thank the weird hallucination gift right. Leaving him to do whatever it is he plans on doing the rest of the day, you go to the back. And just as the book instructs you set to cleaning the skull by setting it in some water and changing it as many times as the water runs murky. The book is quiet helpful to a beginner like yourself but it does seem a bit outdated from the bits of information you know from taxidermists blogs and vulture culture posts on the internet. Reading it in between water changes is a great way to pass the time though, not like you guys get any real customers anyways.

The bell rings as the front door opens and closes alerting you to someone's arrival on your third water change. Needing a little bit of mental stimulation you walk out into the front where Big Jo and Little Jo are talking to Nate. Little Jo sees you and skitters away from her father to rush you, she stops about a foot away and holds her arms wide open. She's a hugger but upon meeting you had never even thought people could be touch adverse so keeping in mind that you might not want to be touched she's learned to invite you into hugs and it's your choice to allow it or not. Placing a hand on your bicep you give a squeeze, checking your tolerance you find the thought bearable. Placing your arms outstretched at your sides Jo rushes your torso for her hug.

After she nearly body slammed you into the wall, and let her death grip go she was off on a tangent about so many things. Her excited rapid blinking tic, one she developed after meeting you, triggering your own.

“Ok so you remember how last week I told you that Jessie Kinsleton said that Micheal Saleisa told Gigi B, not Gigi S. that Meghan,” you had no clue the lives of eleven year olds had gotten so complex, from the gossip you heard from Jo it seemed that the school's sixth graders were plotting for a war with an ice cream parlor up the street. No clue why, maybe just to fuck the system, kids are weird, preteens are weirder...and angry.

But you nod to Jo listening to her every word, and trying to calm your eyelids so you could actually open your eyes. After being told the sequence of events that would happen in the Tween Armageddon, something to do with Marco Salvator ordering three dozen donuts and a flock of geese, your eyes finally gained their ability to see back. Black whisps, much like the one from earlier, wandered all around your vision, it looked like a dark smoke had settled eye level within the shop and was snaking through the isles.

Catching the movement of your eyes Jo looked around the shop too. Seeing nothing she turned back to you concerned, “Hey it's okay, nothin's there.”

Hearing the drop in volume of the normally chatty tween, Big Jo and Nate pause their conversation to turn their attention to you and follow you're gaze.

“Kid, you ain't sleepin' again?” Big Jo can already gauge by the bags under your eyes but he's a polite man so he feels the need to ask rather than state his assumptions.

“Day 6.” You answer simply, ever since you've started at Book & Nook the whole Cowell family became acutely aware of many of your disorders. By their record your longest time spent awake was ten days, you however adamantly say that you were an hour's mark away from ten full days so the longest you've been up is nine days in a row. And those are just the cases they know of since you've moved to Kepler.

Big Jo shook his head as a stern father would, which he is, “I have half the mind to send you home to rest.”

“That won't work.” you really don't mean to sound so coarse but it's so irritating having to go over this at least once a week.

“What about those gummy things Dia got you?”

“Long term that kind of stuff has no effect, sure it'll make me drowsie for an hour or two but even if it made me sleep one night I can't use it all the time. And before you ask the same questions again, caffeine has no real effect on me so limiting my intake will do nothing and weed doesn't do a thing for me either.” you state plainly, monotone as you present facts that everyone in the room already knows.

Looking at the stern face of Big Jo's and the exasperated face of Nate you continue, “I know it must be frustrating for you to not be able to help, but I'm content living like this. I like my late night adventures and when I do sleep it's really pleasant.”you threw in a smile for added comfort.

“Kid tha's not the point, there's somethin' wrong with you, medically I mean.” he's pinching the bridge of his nose, probably counting to ten to calm himself from raising his voice.

“Tons of people suffer from insomnia and there isn't anything a doctor could do for me except look for underlying conditions.” Big Jo's about to retort when you continue with, “Plus my dad and uncle both have insomnia as well so my case is due to the genetic lottery I lost.” You say with a hint of finality of your situation, you had to come to terms with this condition all the way back in high school. Having a decade to get used to your strange condition and the limitations it places on you from time to time. Whereas the Cowell family's only had two months to process this information, and you understand it'll take awhile before they stop being concerned. Same thing happened with you parents and friends back then too.

For now you're only met with more head shakes as if they were saying 'what are we going to do with you'. Leaving your medical issues aside Nate and Big Jo continue to talk shop, when the set up Nate just put on display catches Jo's eye.

Like lightening the tween was away from your side and by the new display shelf it looked like it held graphic novels. That's a first since you've been here, you walk over to join Jo knowing the second you do she'll start on about what's got her so excited. Most people might say you over indulge the child and coddle her but you actually just think it's really important to take interest in what makes kids happy. It helps them find their voices and also shows them that it's normal to get excited and like things.

“We got the TAZ graphic novels in?!” you hate rhetorical questions but smile and nod at her anyway.

“Have you read them? No, well you've listen to the podcast...what omg! Ok so there's these three brothers and their,” Jo begins regaling you with tales from the podcast known as The Adventure Zone and how fun they've made dungeons and dragons seem with their amazing story telling and funny characters.

You aren't sure if a show where the main group of heroes being called Tres Horny Bois is exactly age appropriate but when you look to Big Jo he kind of just shrugs it off. Turning you attention back to Jo who's now monologing about mongooses you just smile at the weird family you've found yourself in.

Let it be said that a tween with a slightly unhealthy fixation on something can find anyway to drag it back to that fixation. The day flew by with Jo explain the inner workings of dungeons and dragons, fifth edition, to you, her father, and her cousin after you mentioned why she didn't play. Apparently she'd love to but wanted a story fitting for her friend's to adventure. So being the good older cousin, father, and weird family friend you all were you came up with a story plot for her to use with her campaign.

The Jos had a lot of fun bonding over this little workshop and you guys even had food delivered so you and Nate could stay later. What was meant to just be a quick workshop turned into a mini family game night after you made several nearly impossible puzzles that wouldn't be used in Jo's campaign due to no one at the current table understanding how to solve it even after you showed them several times.

Overall it was fun and you think you might actually be tired enough to go to sleep tonight. You tried to stay and help clean up but Big Jo put his foot down and told you to go get some rest, he'd seen the way you occasionally look around the room as if something was moving behind them all. You may have started off as a cashier two months ago for him but his daughter has opened up a lot since meeting you and discovering that tics aren't so uncommon and there are people who wouldn't care or make a big deal out of them. Because of that you've earned your keep in his family, he already has you down on the list for Christmas cards.

Knowing you can't fight the six foot four man you roll your eyes and bid everyone good night, little Jo coming in to steal another hug from you and thank you for helping with her game. Checking on your skull you see the water's clear and dump it in the sink of the break room before leaving the skull to dry overnight, it's for sure gonna make Nate scream tomorrow, you can't help but chuckle at that.

Leaving through the back door and into the dusk colored parking lot you notice your trunk is popped open slightly. You definitely heard it shut earlier this morning. You blink before your head jerks to the right, unsettled by possibility of a break in and not risking it you head back inside.

“Hey, I think my car may have been broken into.” you stand awkwardly in the door way unsure of how to proceed.

Big Jo and Nate are out of the door as fast as they can. They find your car unlocked with the trunk popped, you know they weren't trying to brush you off when they asked several times if you did in fact lock your car this morning. After hearing your affirmative response each time, they began to inspect your car checking to make sure all wires are properly secured under the hood, Nate even retrieved the jack out of his own car to take a look under the car, ensuring the brakes hadn't been messed with. They started the car up just fine and it didn't appear tampered with. Even though nothing looked out of place and Nate's car, sitting in the same parking lot, hadn't been touched you appreciated them checking to make sure you were alright.

Knowing you're perceived as a woman by most, even outside of this small town, makes you uneasy when it comes to terms of abductions and violence. You know the chances and hear the stories whether it's from the victim's mouth or a podcaster's telling the story the dead can't. Nate offered to follow you home and make sure you were ok but you declined and said you'd call them both when you got home. Big Jo said to just call his home phone because Nate would be coming over tonight anyway, and if they didn't make it there before you called Dia was already at home and would pass the message along. You'll probably still try and give the shop a call if Dia answers, it wouldn't sit right with you if you wound everyone up just to not and at least try to settle their nerves.

With one final check of you car, the men even going so far as to lift seats up and feel under them, they sent you off. You drove carefully on the road tonight, ready to pull off into the shoulder at the slightest hint that something was wrong. Not even the radio was on something that you really didn't like driving without, but if there was the chance for you to catch a shift in tone of the machine you wanted to. Eventually you did end up making it home in one piece and you had called the Cowell family home, from the safety of your car, and got a spazztic eleven year old asking if you'd made it home alright. It took a little bit of coaxing but Little Jo calmed down and shouted to her parents that you were on the phone and alright.

“Kid,” looks like Big Jo took the phone away from Little Jo, “Everything ok on the drive.” Big Jo could hear the movement and shutting of your car door, he'd have to say he was relieved you waited until you were on the phone before exiting. He knew you lived out past the quiet zone in Old Lydia's house. A fact that did little for the unease he felt when he thought you were being watched.

“Oh, yea drive was fine, too quiet but fine.” you said simply as you began circling the cottage. Nothing seemed out of place on the outside, even looking above eye level where people tended to get sloppy in stalking or home invasion cases, everything seemed fine.

“Hope you don't mind if I keep you for a bit.” You had just unlocked your door and stepped in.

“Nah, kid 's fine.” you give a hum of acknowledgment as you look through the kitchen in cabinets, under cupboards, and even under the table.

“You're a smart kid.” he's taken that fatherly overtone that makes you roll your eyes. You understand the sentiment of parents and parental figures having pride in their child or ward but it's always been so weird to you when they feel the need to bring it up. Especially when they bring it up in situations that are dangerous, like can you not make it sound like someone's about to die.

Finding nothing in the living room, hall closet or bathroom you make sure all the windows are locked and dowels are in place to keep them from opening. And you double check that both the back and front doors are secured. You can hear the hushed whispers on the other end of the line, Dia must have just found out about your car, as you rustle through your kitchen utensil drawers taking out two forks before you make your way to your bedroom.

Once in your room you checked your closet and under your bed. Finding nothing you went to the window in your room, the one right by your bed, you checked the lock, secured it in place with two dowels, and then covered it throwing a thick blanket over the curtain rod to ensure no one would be viewing you in your sleep or the precautions you were about to do. Turing around and locking your bedroom door you then jam one fork into the closed door crease, right below the locking mechanism, and jammed the other fork perpendicular through the prongs. You attempted to open the door with all your weight but only could get an inch in before the forks would stop more movement.

“Kid you alright over there?” it's rushed, he probably heard the commotion with your make shift lock.

“Yea, just had to add another lock to the door.” you trust the Cowell's but you understand how stupid it'd be to let them know exactly how you were defending yourself. Even if it wasn't them there's no telling if the person who broke into your car was outside and just good at hiding. You could also be too jumpy from your true crime shows but you figure it's better to be safe.

“I think everything's good Big Jo.” taking a final glance around your room eye's landing on the bed, “Think I'm even ready to go to sleep tonight too.” a small half laugh leaves your mouth.

“Alright kid, you call if you need anything got it.” it's an order not a request.

“Got it, good night.” Big Jo might think that'd been rude coming from anyone else but from you he can only roll his eyes at the brevity and the dial tone he's met with. He has his own sweep to do, if they were targeting his employee there was a reason. He hasn't had any problems since coming to Kepler but someone always eventually comes along who can't take a hint.

Even combing through your home with Big Jo on the line you didn't feel safe having your bed by the window anymore and moved it away and in front of the closet door. You'd rearrange your room later but for tonight this would have to do. By some grace of god you were actually able to shut your brain down tonight and rest. Maybe it was the excitement and merriment from hanging out with the Cowells or more likely the situation you find yourself in of perhaps being a target for something insidious.

Whatever the case may be you are off to the land of dreams before you know it. And unbeknownst to you the same eyes from this morning watch your home. They may not have seen what you did in there but they'd be sure to catch you when you come out. They'll wait all night to catch you if they have to.

#creepypasta fanfic #proxies x reader #proxies #masky x reader #masky x hoodie #hoodie x reader #ticci tobyx reader #timothy wright x reader #brian thomas x reader #masky #hoodie #ticci toby #ticcitoby #timothy wright #brian thomas #reader insert #reader #readerinsert

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cozy-the-overlord · 3 years

Text

Just One Last Word

Summary: As children, she swore she'd become the greatest author in all of Asgard. Loki had his doubts.

Word Count: 4,360

Pairing: Loki x OFC

A/N: Look who's back! I got this idea from a made-up fic title sent to me by an anon a while back and I just loved the concept so much I had to write it. What can I say? I’m a glutton for childhood romance and angst

Thanks for reading! :)

Warnings: Implied/referenced domestic violence/child abuse

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

The first time Loki heard about Sága’s extraordinary book was the day Lady Gudrun decided that the spring weather was just too lovely to ignore and took her literature students to give them their lessons in the gardens rather than the stuffy palace classrooms. He couldn’t quite recall what year they were—childhood seemed so long ago that all of his primary classes had melted into one amorphous blur—but they had to have been young because Sága hadn’t yet chopped off both her braids in the middle of arithmetic, claiming that they were too heavy to think properly whilst wearing them. No, her braids still hung at her shoulders, and as Lady Gudrun read aloud to them on the lawn, Sága was busy weaving dandelion flowers into their intricate patterns.

“This is going in my book!” she whispered to Loki with a grin. “In my book, all the girls wear dandelions in their hair.”

Loki frowned. “What book?”

“The one I’m writing,” she said, fiddling with another flower stem. “It’s going to be the best book in all of Asgard.”

He had been going to say that there was no way in all the realms she was capable of writing the best book in all of Asgard, but then Lady Gudrun asked them if there was something they wanted to share with the rest of their classmates, since they seemed to be having such an intriguing conversation by themselves, and Loki had shaken his head, blushing. Sága wasn’t bothered. She kept playing with her dandelions and humming softly to herself, some horrifically out of tune melody Loki was almost positive she was just making up as she went along.

Sága Svanhilddottir was a strange girl. One day she had just plopped her bulging crocheted bookbag onto the desk next to his, and she never really went away. There were plenty of whispers about her—her mother was an Asgardian noble who had run away to Alfheim to marry a man in the Elvish court, only to return nine years later with a child in her arms and no husband to be found. At dinner, Loki would overhear the noblewomen’s hushed speculations on what could possessed her to leave in the first place, and what prompted her return. How had the Elf bewitched her so? A love potion? A spell? Had she gotten with child and fled to preserve her dignity? But then why return? Was he unfaithful? Was she unfaithful?

Sága had her own story. She told Loki very seriously before class one day that her mother had come back to Asgard because her father had been turned into a dragon by a wicked witch and now every time he sneezed he spat out enormous balls of fire into the air, and that her mother was afraid that the next time he caught a cold he’d burn the whole apartment down. She pulled down her dress sleeve to show Loki her burn scar, angry red flesh that stretched from her wrist all the way across her shoulders—a scar, she explained, she had gotten when she had tried to give her dragon father a handkerchief.

Loki didn’t believe her.

“Witches don’t turn people into dragons,” he bristled. “My mother’s a witch, and she would never turn anyone into a dragon.”

“That’s because your mother’s a nice witch,” Sága explained impatiently. “This was a mean old witch, with pointy teeth and spiky hair, who hated everybody.” Ruffling her shorn locks (this was after the ill-fated math lesson), she bared her teeth in demonstration. “She was mad at my father because he forgot to bring her mousetail pudding for her birthday like he promised.”

“He—what?”

But Sága only waved him off dismissively. “You’ll have to read my book,” she said. “I explain it all there.”

Oh, that damn book. It seemed like it was the only thing she ever talked about, this stupid, imaginary book. Because it had to be imaginary. Loki had never even seen the girl hold a pen, let alone write a sentence. No, she was too busy prattling on about her wonderous book, this book that would one day become the pinnacle of Asgardian literature.

“Someday, they’ll be making students read my book instead of this nonsense,” she’d whisper to Loki as their teacher read to them in the front of the classroom. “It’ll be much more interesting.”

Or when he ran into her in the library, and she’d drag him to the shelf where they kept all the classics.

“This is where they’ll keep my book!” she’d grin, having the audacity to pat the dusty wood where the great authors of millennia long past rested.

And then there was that one time during one of the feasts, when he turned around to find her staring at him intently from across the ballroom, a studious expression on her face. He shot what he hoped was an intimidating glare at her, but she only skipped across the room to join him.

“What are you doing?” he asked sourly.

“Looking at you,” she said, grinning as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I need to remember how you look like, so I can put you in my book.”

Loki scowled. “I don’t want to be in your book.”

“Well, I want you in it,” Sága retorted. “And, since I’m the author, that’s all that matters.” She grabbed his hand and began pulling him towards the dessert table. “Come on, Prince Loki. Let’s get some cake!”

Thor said that he must be harboring a crush on her, to seemingly hate her so and yet be constantly spending time with her. Loki nearly threw a fit when he accused him of such at the dinner table. He didn’t like Sága. She was strange and irritating and talked far too much and he wanted her to go away. He spent time with her because she followed him around, not because he wanted to! She was annoying. And weird. And …

And yet.

One day she wasn’t in class. Loki thought he’d be relieved—finally, a lesson where he could listen to the teacher without having to filter out her constant chatter. But … it didn’t feel right. It was too quiet—he hated the empty stretches of silence that hung over the classroom every time Lady Gudrun stopped talking. For some reason, it seemed even more difficult to focus without the familiar presence of his deskmate hunched over the table and picking splinters out of the wood with her fingernail.

The library was more of the same. Loki perused the shelves, gaze lingering on the spot Sága had claimed for her own. She was the only person he really talked to, he realized. Without her, the day felt hollow.

She was gone for the rest of the week. Her mother was gone too, and rumors began to fly that she had decided to take her daughter back to Alfheim to rejoin her mysterious husband. Loki couldn’t help but remember her story about her father the dragon.

Just when he was starting to fear she had left for good, one morning a ratty old crotched bag smacked the desk next to his before class started.

He scowled to mask his sigh of relief. “Where have you been?”

But Sága wouldn’t say. She only grinned at him from under her crown of dandelions. “I was working on my book. Why?” she asked. “Did you miss me, Prince Loki?”

Loki flushed bright red.

It was strange to think about now, with everything that had happened. At the time, Loki thought he would have fallen on his sword before he ever referred to Sága as a friend. And yet, she was not only a friend, but the closest one he had. She continued finding ways to spend time with him even after they graduated Lady Gudrun’s class—she’d track him down and ask him for help with her arithmetic, or to wish him luck on an upcoming test, or to tell him about a book she thought he’d like. Thor and his companions drove Loki up the wall with their merciless teasing, but their words couldn’t quell the odd sort of fluttering in his stomach every time she came running up to him clutching some new story against her chest.

“Is it your book?” he’d ask jokingly, even as he took the novel from her hands.

“No,” she laughed. “I’m still working on that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you now?”

Sága patted his shoulder, still grinning. “Don’t worry,” she said. “When I’m done, you’ll be the first to read it.”

She was pretty. Loki wasn’t quite certain when that happened. Sága didn’t really change all that much, even as everyone else grew and morphed into something resembling maturity. She continued cutting her own hair, keeping it messy and uneven and even shorter than his. She’d weave dandelion stalks into the shorn clumps and walk around in gauzy yellow dresses with cuffed sleeves that went past her fingers, looking like one of her fairy-story creatures come to life. It was generally accepted that she looked ridiculous, and Loki didn’t disagree. He just felt that she made ridiculous look good.

He noticed it when she came down to the sparring pit to watch him practice with his daggers. There she was, perched on the railing, beaming like the sun as she waved at him. She was pretty. Very pretty.

Loki turned around without waving back. There was a heat rising in his cheeks that he wasn’t quite sure how to address. He missed the target completely on his next throw.

He wasn’t the only person who noticed. The other boys his age were beginning to be quite drawn to Sága Svanhilddottir as well, although Loki suspected it was less due to actual interest and more because of her proclivity for disregarding traditional decorum. She loved to dance. It seemed every ball she was spinning across the floor in the arms of some new beau, giggling so loudly that her voice echoed down the hall. Loki hated the way they’d hold her, gripping her tightly to their bodies as if she belonged to them, but Sága didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it. She’d laugh and whoop and make a show of it as they twirled through the song.

It might have made her popular with the young men, but older members of the court weren’t as amused. After all, such displays weren’t exactly becoming of an unmarried woman. But Sága didn’t mind that they whispered things like “promiscuous” and “loose” as she walked by. Unlike her fellow ladies, Sága wasn’t particularly interested in catching a husband. In fact, she once told Loki in no uncertain terms that she had no intentions of ever giving her hand in marriage.

“Marriage is horrible,” she said. Loki could barely hear her over the ruckus—it was Thor’s Nameday Feast, and such a raucous celebration was hardly ideal for intimate conversation. He thought Sága might have been enjoying the festivities a bit too much as well—she was swaying on her feet as she leaned in to speak. “You’re tied down forever to some person, and you don’t even know what they’re going to be like! Sure, they might seem nice, but who knows!” She hiccupped, and Loki found himself reaching out to steady her without realizing he was doing it, accidentally grabbing the shoulder he knew to be scarred under her sleeve.

Sága brushed him off. There was a bitterness in her eyes that made his chest ache. “I don’t want to get married,” she said. “I just want to have fun.”

He walked her back to her rooms that night. He had started doing that recently—partially because with the way she was staggering he didn’t trust her to be able to make it herself, and partially because the voracious looks some of her dance partners had been giving her were making the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up.

Sága grinned at him when they made it back to her door. The dandelions in her hair were beginning to wilt. One was nearly falling off her head, held there only by a tangled strand.

“Are you going to kiss me, Prince Loki?” she asked.

Loki started. All at once, the fluttering was back. “What?”

“You’re my prince, aren’t you?” She was swaying quite a bit, but she didn’t look away. Her breath stank of wine. “Aren’t you supposed to kiss the lady goodnight?” She leaned forward as if meaning to demonstrate, but ended up falling right into his chest, giggling all the way. Loki caught her, hoping she couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating.

My prince.

“I—I don’t think it would be very princely of me to kiss you right now,” he whispered.

“Maybe not,” she yawned against his armor. “But I’d like it anyways.”

Loki inhaled. I’d like it too. But she was drunk, practically incoherent—she didn’t mean any of the words coming out of her mouth right now, and he knew it.

And so, he helped her back up and through the doorway. “Not tonight.”

Sága perked up. “Tomorrow?”

She looked so childishly excited that Loki couldn’t hold back his chuckle. “Sure. Tomorrow.” Maybe he had had too much wine as well, because the thought of such a silly promise exhilarated him far more than it should have. “You come find me and I’ll kiss you.”

They never spoke about that night again. Sága didn’t seem to remember it—when he ran into her the next day she was nursing a headache and a new idea for her book and wanted to ask him a question about the mechanics of water seidr. Loki didn’t mention it either. The whole thing felt much sillier doused in daylight. What, did he think she was just going to knock on his door and cash in a kiss like a raffle ticket? No, it was better that the whole thing just fade into obscurity. Loki told himself he was relieved that Sága didn’t remember his promise.

It didn’t stop his thoughts from racing every time he saw her.

What would it be like to kiss her, he wondered? Would she let him pull her close? Would she wrap her arms around his neck and run her fingers through his hair? How would it feel to press his lips to hers, to close his eyes and just drink her in as if she were the only thing that existed?

He wished he could find out.

Loki remembered the last time he saw her. Her father had passed away, and she and her mother were returning to Alfheim for his funeral and to clear up several issues regarding his estate. They weren’t sure how long they’d be gone, but Sága predicted that the legal affairs would take years to resolve.

“Is it bad that I don’t want to go?” she asked in a whisper the night before she was set to leave. Loki looked at her, huddled against the balcony railing besides him. Inside, the feast raged on, but in the moonlight the world seemed almost tranquil.

“I don’t think it’s bad,” he said slowly. “Funerals aren’t exactly joyful occasions. I doubt anyone ever wants to go to them.”

She was silent for a moment, staring across the gardens spread beneath them. “I was happy when they told me he was dead,” she said finally, voice hoarse. “That’s bad, isn’t it? You’re not supposed to be happy because your father’s dead.”

Loki wasn’t sure what to say to that. He didn’t know much about Sága’s father—she almost never spoke of him, and Loki never asked—but he never could quite forget the stories she would tell when they were children, about witches and dragons and violent, fiery breath.

He inhaled. “I don’t think that’s bad either.” A part of him wanted to reach out and squeeze her hand, but he wasn’t sure if that was right. “If he was a good father, you’d feel differently. But he wasn’t, and you don’t. That’s all there is to it.”

Sága only nodded.

The next morning was less somber. When Sága came to say goodbye, she seemed her normal, airy self, bouncing and bubbling over every small detail.

“Hopefully, by the time I’m back, I’ll have my book done!” she beamed. “And I’ll bring it back for you to read!”

“Well, in that case, I’ll be counting the seconds,” he drawled. Sága laughed, and he found himself gazing into her eyes. They were lovely, those eyes—warm, like liquid amber, brown and sparkling with mirth. He had never really stopped to think about it before, but she had to have the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.

Perhaps he was staring too intently, because Sága had stopped laughing. Loki felt his cheeks flush. He was about to apologize when she threw her arms around his shoulders.

He was so thrown off by the embrace that he couldn’t really comprehend what had happened until after she had let go. It was a quick hug, spur of the moment and over as soon as it began. It meant nothing.

Still there was something in the air as Sága pulled away, something he didn’t think either of them had the capability to describe. She patted his shoulder, nodding as if in agreement with something neither of them had said.

“Goodbye, Prince Loki,” she said thickly.

He nodded too. “Goodbye, Sága.”

It was the last time he saw her.

Loki stared at the book on the table. He had told his mother that he didn’t want any more books—he was beginning to feel less like a person and more like a pity case with each shipment she sent in.

Enough with it! Just let me rot in peace.

And she had agreed. The flood of books had ceased.

Except for this one.

He hadn’t heard them come in to drop it off, which was concerning. Loki had always been a light sleeper, and that had increased a hundredfold by the time he had returned to Asgard. He wondered if they were drugging him.

The book itself was crisp and clean—freshly bound. He always used to like those books as a child, so new that the spine let out a satisfying crack as he opened them for the first time. Now, he was almost afraid to touch it.

The mossy green cover was unassuming. No artwork, no patterns, just the title and author in simple gold lettering.

Dandelion

Sága Svanhilddottir

Loki didn’t know how long he stared at it. The dungeons made it hard to keep track of time in general, but in that moment it felt as if everything around him ceased to exist. He couldn’t tear his eyes from it.

Damn. She actually did it.

Sága … when was the last time he thought of Sága? She seemed to exist in a different lifetime, a character in a story that had long since been shelved. He remembered her, though—a scrawny little girl on the grass, weaving yellow flowers through her braids.

In my book, all the girls wear dandelions in their hair.

He picked it up. It wasn’t particularly heavy, nor particularly thick—certainly nothing like the texts of old she had once proclaimed herself equal to. It appeared quite average, really. Maybe he wouldn’t read it. The whole thing was birthed out of a childish fancy, and he no longer held any appreciation for fairy-stories.

But who was he kidding?

The story was about a girl named Dandelion (Loki groaned aloud upon reading it, although such puerility was to be expected from an author who went about her days with weeds dangling from her hair) who lived with her mother and her beast of a father off in some nonexistent realm, far away from Asgard. While her father had not the form of a dragon, he certainly had the temperament. He spent the days raging about their household, ranting and raving at every little inconvenience until he’d worked himself up into a violent frenzy.

Her mother didn’t know what to do. She was alone in a strange land, having forfeited her freedom to irrevocably tie herself to this monster of a man. She had nowhere to go, no family to turn to. And so she grit her teeth and took the beatings and the curses and prayed for a miracle.

Of course, little Dandelion was too young to understand this. She didn’t know why her mother cried herself to sleep at night, nor could she comprehend the foulness of the words that her father spat into the air. She had never known anything else. And so, every night she sat upon her father’s knee as he brushed out and braided her long, silky hair and read aloud to her from his rotted old storybook. Dandelion loved those stories, of monstrous dragons and evil witches who feasted on rats and tarantulas, fair maidens locked away in towers and dashing princes fighting their way through bramble-choked woods to awaken them with a kiss.

She’d dream about those stories as she lay in bed, writing her own in her head to drown out the crashes and cries ricocheting off the walls on the floor below her. In her mind’s eye, Dandelion could see herself as the maiden, nose pressed against the window as she waited for her prince to scale her tower and carry her to safety.

He never came.

But she was not long for this way of life. One night, during dinner, her father in a fit of anger overturned the candle on the tablecloth. The fabric went up in flames. They spread fast across the table and caught on Dandelion’s cuff, setting her sleeve ablaze. She survived—her father was quick to come to his senses and douse the flames—but her arm was badly burned. It was at that moment that her mother had had enough. She took her daughter and ran for it.

After a long struggle to secure the funds they needed, they were able to book passage back to her mother’s home realm. There, they found sanctuary.

She found something else there too. There, sitting in the very back row of the classroom with his head hidden behind a book, was a real, living, breathing prince. Dandelion was entranced—she had always thought princes to be some mythical creature that existed only within the pages of storybook. And yet, here was one right in front of her, like the most normal thing in the world. He didn’t seem very princely. He just seemed like a boy, a quiet boy who preferred reading to conversation. Dandelion would have never known him to be anything else if her mother hadn’t pointed him out to her.

But she was curious, and so when given the opportunity to choose her spot, she sat down next to him. He was a strange prince. He’d argue with her about the stories she told, but that only meant he was listening to her. He’d say he didn’t want to see her when she bumped into him outside of class, but he’d still follow her down the hall when she turned to leave. He didn’t strike her as the dragon-slaying tower-scaling type, but that was okay. Dandelion liked him just the way he was.

The story went on. Dandelion grew up to the whooshing of letters slipped under the door—her dragon father, asking her mother to come back, to come home, promising that he was different and everything would be all right. There were times when her mother seemed almost swayed by his sweet words—she’d sigh and say that it would be nice to see their family safe and back together again and stare off into the distance as if remembering something other than the screaming or the fighting or the burning, as if she had forgotten the way Dandelion would wake screaming in the night convinced she could smell her flesh burning. It sent cold shivers down Dandelion’s spine. She began tossing the letters into the fire before her mother had the chance to read them.

She’d turn to her prince for comfort. He didn’t know about the letters, but somehow, he made her feel better all the same. He was light and safe and everything she needed—she always seemed to be laughing when she was with him. And when he laughed—something about that laugh made Dandelion’s chest feel awash with a lovely sort of warmth.

She was in love with him.

But Dandelion didn’t say anything about that. She knew he only saw her as a friend—a silly, trivial friend who he could tease and laugh with without having to concern himself with the solemnity of his station. If he knew how she felt … she could lose him entirely. Dandelion couldn’t face such a prospect.

Instead, she danced with everyone but her prince, drowned herself in wine and spent her nights in the arms of any faceless man who wanted her, all in some vain attempt to sway her feelings in another direction. It only made things worse.

But life went on. Another letter came in from the realm of her birth, written in a different hand than usual. Her father had passed in his sleep, it explained. At long last, the dragon had been defeated. Dandelion was to return home immediately. And so, she bid her prince a friendly farewell.

The fallout of her father’s death was horrifically complicated. She was his legal heir, but she had also spent a majority of her life estranged from him and she found his representatives unwilling to hand over control of his estate to her. It was years before she could come back. And when she did—

Loki couldn’t bring himself to finish it. He knew very well what “Dandelion” found when she returned to Asgard—or more aptly, what she didn’t find.

You’re my prince, aren’t you?

He wished he had kissed her.

#loki marvel #loki fanfic #loki x ofc #just one last word #cozy writes

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truglori · 3 years

Text

Homebody (Ch.12)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick OC

Warning: Language, Smoking

1 1/2 months later

The music from Amiyah’s speaker played at a low level. She was currently in the process of setting up an organizer for her perfume collection. Going back in forth between the instructions on the manual and screwing in the tiny nails she was growing frustrated. It’s been almost and hour now and she was only able to put together two shelves. Throwing down the paper she stood up and slipped on her house shoes. Amiyah needed a break to keep herself from becoming irritated so she walked to the kitchen for a snack.

Keys unlocking the front door caught her attention. It was Durk walking in with another Louis Vuitton bag for the fourth time this week. Amiyah knitted her eyebrows together wondering what was up with all of the shopping he’s been doing. She watched him walk to his to put away his items before he walked back into the livingroom.

“What’s up sis? You didn’t have to work today?” Durk asked pulling out his weed tray and breaking down the bud.

Amiyah walked over to him and sat down. “Nope I was just getting ready to make me some food but I’m too tired to cook.” Taking a pillow she cradled it in her lap.

He snickered rolling up his blunt. “I’ll order something for you if you want?”

Nodding her head Amiyah grabbed the remote to the tv and turned it on. She flipped through the channels hoping to find something to ease her mind for the moment. Durk leaned back next to her sparking up the blunt. Amiyah watched him inhale and exhale the smoke through his nose. Reaching her hand out she made a gesture asking for a hit.

“You know damn well you don’t smoke.” He removed the blunt from his mouth but handed it to her anyway. Durk figured it would be funny to see her try to get high for the first time.

Amiyah grabbed it using her nail tips she took a pull and inhaled the smoke smoothly and blew it out. She did it a few times and then she passed it back.

Durk furrowed his brows looking surprise before sending her a blank stare. “Miyah who the hell taught you how to do that?” He asked gently snatching the blunt away from her.

She laughed and was about to say his name before she caught herself. Shrugging her shoulders her eyes fell to the floor. The grip on her pillow tightened against her chest. Her memory went back to the night she watched how Erik did his technique in the car and she copied him. The thought of him made her sad all over again. Amiyah would always do good until she did something that reminded her of him then she would get a strong feeling of emotions that washed over her.

It’s been over a month since she last seen him. Since the night she ended it with him to be exact. After that it was like he never existed. No more phone calls or text messages. He hasn’t even been by the apartment since then either. Before, if she saw her brother coming in she knew that Erik would be right there behind him with his beautiful smirk on his face that displayed his dimples. But there’s been nothing and it made her miserable inside.

Amiyah didn’t want to be the reason for him to not come over anymore. She was used to seeing his face almost every other day and to see that it changed because of her made her upset with herself. Not only that, because of his absence, Amiyah didn’t know if Erik and her brother were still good friends. Durk had mentioned his in a conversation a week after their last exchange and that was the last time. Amiyah was worried about him. She wanted to know how he was doing but mostly she wanted to have a second chance with him.

“Yo what you got a taste for?” Durk snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Uh it doesn’t matter. Whatever you order.” She sighed sitting the pillow next to her.

He nodded his head as he finished his blunt putting it in his ashtray. A text notification came to his phone. Amiyah heard him curse before messaging whoever it was back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just going back and forth with this promoter about letting me throw a bash at the club for the night. You know with Valentines Day coming up on Saturday.” Durk answered staying on his phone.

Amiyah knitted her brows. “Why you tryna throw a bash? Why not just get VIP and call it a night?” She asked confused leaning her head on her hand.

Durk smacked his lips. “Because I’m doing this for the whole hood. Plus it’s a celebration for something else that I’m not telling yo nosy ass about. But I’m have my niggas to the right and nothing but bad bitches to the left. It’s bout to be a movie.” He playfully plucked her nose before getting up going into the kitchen.

Amiyah followed after she heard who he planned to have there. Erik popped into her head. She wanted to know if he was going to be one of the members in the group. She had to know so she figured she could ask for an invite.

“Well can I go?” She sat on the counter next to him.

Durk chuckled. “Since when you go to parties?”

“Since now. So can I come?” Folding her arms she pressed for the second time.

“No. Amiyah I’m not allowing you around these people. You know I don’t like you being around that type of shit anyway.” He stated while eating grapes from out of the package.

Amiyah scoffed. “ ‘Allow’? Durk I thought we just made up about this. You promised you would stop treating me like a baby and let me live and learn responsibility. That was what you told me, remember?”

After her and Erik’s first argument she had him take her home. Later that night Durk came back to find her there. He was happy that she decided to come back and they talked out their problems. Amiyah told him how she felt about him treating her like a child and how he had to stop. Durk was hesitant but agreed in letting her make her own choices from now on to help her become responsible.

Placing the bag of fruit on the table Durk eyed his sister folding his arms as well. He shook his head as he gave in.

“Damn alright you can go but yo ass is standing beside me the whole night. I’m not playing with you Amiyah.”

Interrupting him Amiyah hopped off the counter jumping up and down clapping her hands. She skipped up to him and wrapped her arms around his body giving him a bear hug.

“Thank you big brother!” She grabbed his face bringing it down to kiss his cheek.

“Miyah stop acting like I keep yo ass chained up in this house all day ‘fore I change my mind. Extra ass.” He pushed her away.

“Okay I have to get an outfit, my nails done. Can I bring Kelly? Who’s all going to be there?” She rushed him with questions.

“I guess you can bring the one and only lil friend you got.” He laughed.

Amiyah pushed his shoulder. “Okay but who’s gonna be there?” She asked hoping to get the answer she was anticipating for.

He shrugged. “I don’t know shit Moe, Erik, Cane, and a few other people I rock with.”

Her heart stopped when she heard Erik’s name. But when she heard Cane’s she felt her stomach flutter with nerves. How the hell did her brother know Cane? It was too much for her to catch up with the fact that two of the guys in his circle had her caught up. If they were both planning on being at the bash then Amiyah would try her best to avoid being around them at the same time.

“Cool!” She gave a half smile.

Durk snapped his fingers. “Oh I’ve been meaning to ask you. Your birthday coming up in a few weeks. Got any plans?”

“No not really. Why?” She stepped closer trying to figure out what he had planned.

“If you down I was thinking outta the country and a place that has dazzling white sand and water so clear that you can see your toes in it. What you think about that?” He asked speaking in a narrator tone.

Amiyah covered her mouth. “Please tell me you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about?”

Durk laughed at her reaction. “You tryna go to Turks and Caicos or what?”

Amiyah jumped on him as he caught her. Turks and Caicos was one of her top places she had on her traveling bucket list. She couldn’t believe that he was able to make this happen for her. She was truly greaful but curious.

“Wait I want to go but why you trying to bring me now? You coming up on here with shopping bags every other day and now you taking me on vacation. I mean I know you got money and everything but did you win the lottery or something?” She asked playfully unable to contain her smile.

He laughed. “You asking too many questions. Next week I’ll give you some money so you can start shopping for the trip. But right now I got to go check out the venue I’ll be back. Love you kid.” He tapped her head before leaving.

Amiyah smiled watching her brother disappear out the door.

__________________________________

“So you tryna tell me you never saw the movie Soul Food?” Harmony stopped in the middle of crocheting her blanket.

Erik chuckled shaking his head. “Nah I told you I wasn’t a big movie watcher growing up.”

“But Soul Food is a classic though. Like how you do as a black person go your whole life without watching it? Make it make sense Erik?” She giggled going back to her knitting.

“Damn you ain’t gotta come for my childhood like that though.” He sat up on her furniture.

“Oh that’s right I keep forgetting your younger than me so I understand.”

Erik rolled his eyes shaking his head. He was 25 and she was 26. Harmony only had him by one year and always had to bring it up almost every time they got together. But Erik knew it was nothing but jokes with her. They were at her duplex hanging out for the afternoon. Over the past couple of weeks Erik got acquainted with Harmony really well. Her and her brother took over the bar where she worked that her parents passed down to them. She lived right around the block from him. But also they had a lot in common. Both were private people, had similar taste in music, like the same foods, and the lastly great at being single.

Harmony surprised him the first time they had a real deep conversation. She let him know that she wasn’t too bothered with trying to get into a relationship. She said she always had problems in the past so she never did much to try to strive for a new one, but she did remain open minded in the same instance. To Erik she was cool about it and didn’t really bring it up unless he spoke on the subject. They were only friends but they did mess around two or three times, if you want to count a quickie in the bathroom of the bar that she worked at as once.

Their escapades started two weeks ago. Erik thought for sure that he was going to have to deal with her sudden clingy-ness but it didn’t turn out like that. He had to reach out to her afterwards and Harmony told him that she was okay with being friends and fucking at the same time. After that they became somewhat close friends.

Erik got a text from Durk asking to meet up with him about the Valentines Day bash he was throwing. Sending a text back that he was on the way he slipped his phone in his pocket and stood up from the couch.

“I would love to stay but I gotta meet up with someone.” He looked down at her.

Harmony stood up nodding her head. “I’ll walk you out.”

Walking to the door Erik turned around. “Listen my mans is throwing this party on Saturday. If you want to come you can if you free.” He sucked in his top lip.

Harmony smirked biting her bottom one. She stepped closer towards him with a hand on her hip. “You tryna introduce me to your boys already?”

He glanced back in her house before back at her. “I’m just inviting you out to have a good time but if you happened to meet them while doing so then shit yeah.”

Grabbing his shirt she pulled him down to her level and kissed him. Erik wrapped one of his free arms around her tiny waist and traveled down her back to her ass cheeks gripping her left one. He felt her moan into his mouth before she broke the kiss.

Wiping the gloss from his lips she pushed him away and smirked. “I’ll be there.” She stated eyeing him up and down and then closed her door on him.

It took Erik twenty minutes to make it to the auto garage. Getting out and locking his car he headed inside to see Durk, Moe, and Cane gathered around one of the vehicles parked inside. The moment Erik made eye contact with Cane he felt the anger within him ignite. Just being in his presence always made Erik put the blame on him for how things between him and Amiyah ended. When he found out that he took her on a date behind his back Erik was heated and wanted to fuck him up but had to hold off because he didn’t want Durk to know the reason behind it but when Amiyah told him that he kissed her Erik was livid. He couldn’t believe that the same kid who he thought he would like was the same one who turned out to be a snake.

Erik kept his distance from Cane since he put the two and two together and kept it that way. They never said a word to each other unless they had to work with Durk. Strictly for business and that’s all. But Erik was still on edge with Cane knowing about him and Amiyah even though they weren’t together anymore, he just didn’t like the fact that the little nigga had something on him.

Walking up to the trio Erik dapped Mor and Durk, purposefully leaving Cane out. Durk gave a look wondering what was the animosity that the two had against each other all of a sudden before shaking it off.

“What’s up E! Fuck you been at nigga?” Durk asked leaning on the hood of the truck.

“Chillin. So what’s going on with this party you throwing? What’s up with that?” Erik stood next to him between him and Moe.

Durk smirked and paused looking at them. “I just figured I could celebrate the fact that I’m fifteen million dollars richer than a bitch and now in business with Shawns old connect.”

“Damn nigga you finally made that shit happen. Now you could put me in charge of some of these corners, take some of the load of your hands.” Cane spoke with excitement as he dapped him up.

Durk laughed. “Nigga you gonna have to earn that shit. Ain’t nothing given over here.” He nudged him back.

Cane smacked his lips shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Aye congrats man.” Moe spoke up.

Durk saluted him before turning to Erik.

“Erik what you think about that? You know when we get our first few keys I’ma need some help. I want you to be my partner.”

“Nah. I’m not tryna get into this type of business man. I told you after this last job we just did three weeks ago was it for me. I’m done.” Erik spoke truthfully.

Durk shook his head. “Well you didn’t look done to me when we was getting that money.”

*Three Weeks Ago*

Moe sat behind the wheel of the all blacked out SUV. Erik rested in the passenger seat while Durk and Cane hid in the back. Parked at least 200 ft away from the small luxurious house with a fence surrounding the perimeter. Erik used his binoculars to find where his target and accomplice were. It was eight at night and Alexis sent Durk a text letting them know that the two of them would be leaving soon. She informed them about the weekend trip he was bringing her on and told them that it would be better for them to come and get the money after they were gone.

Erik heard an irritated sigh leave out of Canes mouth.

“When these muthafuckas gon leave? I’m tryna get these M’s and be out. We already looking suspicious being in this big ass car.” He sucked his teeth putting on his black gloves.

“Nigga would you shut the fuck up. Yo ass been talking for the past ten minutes.” Durk blew out smoke from his blunt.

“Look she said they was gonna be out any minute now so chill the fuck out!” Erik’s voice heightened without looking back.

Within the next fifteen minutes Alexis was walking out with Shawn. They put their luggage in the trunk before hopping inside the car. After a few minutes of observing them Erik watched as they pulled out the gated driveway and down the road. Durk waited until he got a text from Alexis letting him know that they were on the highway heading to the airport. Moe turned on the truck and pulled up right in front of the house to make it easier to getaway. Getting out Erik, Durk, and Cane put on their gloves and ski mask on their heads so that by the time they would walk inside the home they could pull them down to avoid any security cameras.

“Y’all niggas know the fucking drill. We get the money and we out this bitch. Cane grab the duffles.” Durk instructed as he put his glock on his waist.

Erik watched as Cane did was he was told. His expression was irritated by the fact that he had to take orders which Erik figured he wasn’t to doing. Cane had the attitude of trying to be a leader but he just didn’t know how to operate as one yet. Erik picked up his own duffle and walked to the driver side where Moe was seated.

“You remember the signal right? Hit the lock alarm on the truck in a pattern of three times if you feel like something’s wrong.”

“But Durk said not to interrupt unless I actually see someone coming.” Moe stated unsure.

Looking over towards Durk and Cane who were waiting Erik shook his head turning back to Moe. “Trust me man. If you feel like something is wrong give us a heads up. Better safe and out of jail than sorry. Got it?” Erik knitted his eyebrows letting him know that he was serious.

Moe nodded and rolled up his window. Erik then started to hike towards the gate. Entering the code that was given to him he put it in watching the wide gates open slowly. They headed towards the house. Checking around the perimeter of the area, they planned to avoid using the front door. So they asked Alexis to leave one of her side doors unlocked. Cane walked towards it first and wiggled the handle. When the door popped up with ease he looked back and smiled before sliding his mask over his face. Durk and Erik did the same following him inside.

The three pair of eyes wandered around in amaze as the toured throughout the luxurious mini mansion. Erik shook his head as he thought about how Alexis didn’t have a problem risking living like this just to satisfy her selfish needs. She had everything that she ever wanted. Money, cars, the latest fashion, and her hair and nails were always in tip top shape.

Not only that but this house that she could live in full time if she chose to. From the way she would tell them how Shawn was stuck on stupid over her let Erik know that the nigga loved her enough to put up with her and her how shit. There was no way that he was going around town not knowing what his own fiancée was doing. He had to know but just to stupid in love to do anything about it. Erik scoffed to himself never wanting to be that deep in love with someone.

“Aye y’all niggas come up here! I think I got something.” Cane shouted from the top of the banister on the second floor.

Jogging up the stairs, Erik behind Durk, went into the master bedroom. They looked around trying to see why he called them in there.

“Nigga what are we supposed to be looking at?” Durk asked through his mask.

“That’s what I thought when I came in here at first. Nothing looks out of the ordinary but check this out. This some rich shit here.” Going over to the walk in closet Cane pushed aside some of Shawns suits that was hanging up revealing a small red button. When he clicked it the wall slid to the side disappearing.

“You gotta be fuckin kidding me.” Erik whispered to himself.

It was a panic room. Inside the blue neon lit medium sized room was guns holstered against the wall. The ammo inside their cases sat to the side. Erik looked to the right to find that there was some of Shawn’s famous ice pieces laid out on a shelf. All of his most prized possessions was in this room and they had access to all of it. But Erik wasn’t here for that. They had a mission and that was to try and walk out with as much of that money as they can.

“Fuck y’all niggas doing standing around. Get to bagging this shit up.” Durk laughed unzipping his duffel bags.

The money was in a clear casing directly in the middle of the room. It was too much cash to try and fit it all in one duffel bag so they all got three each but it still didn’t look like it would work. Working as fast as they could they were starting to run out of room.

“Durk we don’t have enough bags for this shit.” Cane told him standing up.

Durk looked up at him while placing the stacks in his bags. “So then go run ya ass down to the truck dump it out and come back in here for the rest.” Erik could see that Cane looked confused through his mask. “Now!” Durk yelled.

After the repeated cycle of going back and forth it took them fifteen minutes to gather all of the money. Durk grabbed what he had left and went to the car while Erik and Cane got the rest. To Erik’s surprise everything was going smooth until he seen Cane reach for Shawns jewelry. He knew that it was a bad idea but decided not to say anything. That would be the consequences that Cane would have to deal with and not him.

The sound of the car alarm went off and they immediately ran out of the room and out the house. Throwing the bags in the back Erik hopped back into the car. Moe pulled off once they were safely in. Pulling off his mask he felt Durk slap his shoulder and laughing in celebration as if he just won the lottery.

“With all this money right here. Mufuckas gon be calling me the black Pablo Escobar because I’m bout to take over all of this shit.” Durk laughed smelling the cash.

Erik shook his head. He was glad that it was finally over but deep down inside him he had a terrible feeling that it was the worst decision he ever made.

*Flashback Over*

Erik folded his arms as he jogged his memory of the prior event.“I’ll have to think about it. This some serious shit you asking me Durk. Next level shit.”

Durk smacked his lips. “You always gotta think about some shit instead of doing it. But anyways, I’m doing a lil bash and I want y’all niggas to be there.”

Everyone shook their head agreeing.

“It’s gonna be some bad bitches in there right? I might have to throw on my best walking up in that bitch.” Cane joked around showing off his new Patek Philippe watch.

“I don’t know why you asking. They ain’t gon be worried about ya young broke ass with that pond shop watch you got on.” Durk clowned him rolling his eyes.

Erik smirked watching Cane dismiss him with a wave of his hand. “I’ll be there and I’ma bring a plus one. That’s cool?” Erik asked dapping him up. He seen Cane looking confused at him out the corner of his eye.

“So you done found someone else to get ya dick wet? I thought you was gonna be stuck on that bitch Alexis for a minute.” Durk teased him smiling.

“Fuck you worried about my dick for? Gay ass!” Erik laughed pushing him. “Nah she just a friend. I met her at this bar she work at down from my place. She real cool.” He smiled thinking about Harmony.

“Well I’ll be the judge of that when I meet her. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

The two dapped each other up with a side hug and departed from one another.

__________________________

“You sure your brother ain’t gonna have a problem with you putting on that outfit for tonight.” Kelley question Amiyah as she pulled down the front of her dress.

It was finally Saturday night. The night of the Valentine’s Day bash and it was fifteen minutes after nine. They were running late. Durk had told her make it before that time so that she would be let inside without any complications but of course she didn’t listen. Amiyah was stuck choosing between dresses as the time went by. After finding out that Erik was going to be there she wanted to look her best. She hadn’t seen him in a month and she was going to try and impress him some how.

“Why? Do I look okay? Does it fit my body right?” She rambled the questions as she tried to take off the fifth dress for the night.

Kelley rolled her eyes getting. She was already dressed and ready to pick her up by eight thirty but when she walked in Amiyah’s room she was still in her bra and panties.

“You look fine. I think that this is the one you should actually wear. You look beautiful.” She rested her chin on her opened shoulder giving her a soft smile.

Amiyah glanced at her appearance in her body length mirror. She tugged at the pink tie-dye fashion nova Rustic Root Ruched Mini Dress. Her shoulders were out in the open and her cleavage on full display. She knew that there was no way she would be around her brother tonight. Knowing him he would try to send her back home to change and embarrass her in front of everyone. Amiyah blew out air of frustration while throwing her head back.

“Your not just saying that because I’m taking too long are you?” She squinted her eyes at Kelley.

Kelley giggled. “Yes I am but it do look good now let’s hurry up and go before we don’t get in at all.”

Finishing up her final touches Amiyah did a last sweep over her body before grabbing her coat and heading out with Kelley to her car. The club was a good twenty minutes away but with there barely being any cars out tonight they made it in fifteen. Pulling up to the location Kelley and Amiyah both whispered a “damn” at the scene in front of them.

“Your brother wasn’t lying when he said that he was gon have the whole hood pop out.” Kelley exclaimed as she fortunately found parking.

“I guess he wasn’t.” Amiyah whispered to herself. She was starting to feel self conscious about her choice of clothing all over again. The expression was written on her face.

“Listen let me tell you this. We are about to go up in here and have the best night of our lives. We gon dance, diss any niggas that try to step to us, drink, and get fucked up. Don’t worry about what other people think. They already have an idea of you in their head so why stress yourself trying to change it. Fuck what they think.” Kelley lectured while applying her lip gloss.

Amiyah giggled nodding her head. Her confidence level going up just a bit from the pep talk. She answered her back with a “thank you” as they got out the car. Walking hand and hand, they walked to the front of the line. The music blasting on the inside was clearly audible on the out. Sounds of people complaining could be heard when they reached the bouncer.

“I hate to be the one to tell you beautiful ladies but the end of the line is down there.” The tall and buff light skinned bouncer pointed in the direction.

“Oh see we’re with her brother, the one who’s supposed to be hosting the bash, Durk.” Kelley spoke for them.

He raised an eyebrow looking back and forth between them. “Y’all with Durk?”

They nodded in unison while smiling.

“Yeah well you and everyone else. Now get to the back of my line.” His face stern and unfazed.

“Wait Durk is my brother and he told me to be here early but I was running late. Can you just let us in and I’ll bring him back out here to confirm it.” Amiyah pleaded with her hands folded.

“Girl you not the first one that claimed to be some type of family member of his to get in free. Besides I ain’t never heard about Durk having no sister.” The bouncer eyed her up and down with disbelief.

Amiyah sighed. She didn’t even bother to try and call him because she knew that he wouldn’t be able to hear it over the loud music. She gave Kelley an apologetic look as they started to walked to the end but the sound of someone calling her name stopped her.

“Amiyah?”

Turning around she saw Cane walking up to the front. He was wearing a white Christian Dior newspaper denim jean jacket. Underneath was a plain black Dior shirt and black washed jeans to match. Inhaling a sharp breath, Amiyah forgot about him being one of those included.

“Hey Cane. What are you doing here?” She replied softly. She was embarrassed being seen walking to the back of the line.

“I’m here for the party. Why you not inside?” He asked with a smile.

“The bouncer won’t let us in. He thinks we’re just tryna cut the line.” She shrugged rolling her eyes at the security guy.

Cane laughed catching her action. “Do you not know who the host is to this shit? Your brother, that nigga should be escorting you in.”

Amiyah laughed shaking her head.

“Come on. I got y’all.”

Kelley smirked at her as they folded their arms together walking back to the front. They stood next to Cane watching him speak to the guy.

“Yo Diamond, they with me and this is Durk lil sis. Remember her face and think twice next time before you try and keep her from getting in. Got it?” Cane tapped his shoulder creating space for them to walk pass.

“I got it.” The bouncer mumbled letting them by.

When they made it in it was packed to the max in the venue. There was beautiful women and fine men all through the place. Pop Smokes- Hello bombed through the speakers. Bottle girls danced while holding up Don Julio 1942’s and sparklers in the air. Amiyah was impressed with the turn out. She reached for Kelley as they both of their lips curled up with excitement.

“We bout to be lit as fuck.” Kelley yelled over the music.

Feeling a tap on her shoulder she turned to face Cane. His eyes traveling over her body made her stomach fill up with nerves. “Yeah?”

“VIP is up there. I think your brother would want you to be there.” Cane licked his lips. His eyes couldn’t stop going below her face.

Amiyah nodded. “Okay.” She grabbed Kelley’s hand as he led the way up the stairs.

Spotting her brother, Durk had different girls surrounding him. One was twerking on him while the other two recorded and took shots from the tequila bottles. Amiyah rolled her eyes at the sight. Walking over to him she patted his shoulder trying to get his attention.

“Can I help you?” He snapped his head at her.

Amiyah chuckled noticing he was tipsy but also that he didn’t even recognize her. “Really Derrick you don’t even know your own sister?” She folded her arms.

Pushing the girl who was dancing on him out the way he faced her looking over her. Durks face contorted up confused at her outfit.

“Who are you? Because I know Amiyah ass ain’t come out the house like that-“

“Don’t start Durk you promise.” She cut him off reminding him.

He took off his jacket and pushed it towards her. “Here at least put this on.”

Amiyah laughed pushing it away. “I left mine in the car for a reason. Leave me alone.” She started to walk away but felt him grab her wrist.

“Unh uh I didn’t forget. I told you you was going to stay beside me all night, so have fun.” He went back to letting the girls dance on him.

Kelley looked at him with disgust before turning to her friend. “I’m about to get us a drink from the bar. I’ll be back...maybe.” She stated the last part lowly but Amiyah heard it. She watched her leave the VIP section.

Opening up one of the 1942’s that was on the table Amiyah figured she could get her drink on right here. Tilting her head back she allowed the liquor to go down her throat. She made a sour face shaking her head from the taste. She repeated it giving herself four shots. Amiyah wasn’t much of a drinker so it didn’t take much to get her tipsy. Standing on the couch next to her brother she rocked side to side rapping the lyrics along to the song.

“Amiyah sit ya light weight ass down.” Durk yelled drunkenly towards her.

She waved him off and continued to do her thing. From the way she was standing she had a view of whoever was going to come in the section. She thought it was the liquor playing tricks with her until she saw him take more steps coming up. He was dressed in a two tone knitted Givenchy sweater with black jeans. The blinging from his watch and gold chains around his neck caught her eyes. When he smiled he revealed the gold canines in his mouth. His beard looking freshly moisturized and his waves on swim. His eyes were low which told her that he probably smoke a couple of blunts before coming inside. He looked so good.

Amiyah watched as he greeted everyone in the section with salutes and daps before walking up to her brother who was seated next to her.

“Nigga why the fuck you got to come up here and show me out for my shit?” Durk yelled playfully standing up and boxing him.

Amiyah watched as they interacted with each other. At least her question from earlier was answered. They look like they were still best friends.

“Come on man, this light work.” His voice coming out as smooth as butter.

“Yeah whatever nigga.” Durk turned towards her making her status known. “Miyah you not gon say what’s up to Erik?”

When she heard his name she got butterflies in her stomach. It was like it was her first time meeting him all over again. After a month of not seeing him nothing had changed. Her feelings for him never fading but only enhancing the minute she saw him.

“Hey Erik.” She smiled softly putting the bottle that was in her hand down and stepped off the seat.

Erik nodded his head towards her. “What’s good!” He stated nonchalantly. Amiyah couldn’t deny that she was hurt from the tone in his voice. He didn’t even smile at her, only just a nod. But yet they kept eye contact with each other.

“So where she at? I’m trying to meet this “friend”.” Durk asked doing the quotation marks with his fingers.

Amiyah stood to the side confused hearing her brother over the loud music. She didn’t realize that there was a small petite woman standing somewhat behind Erik until her brother mentioned the word ‘she’. She watched as Erik held her hand pulling her in front of him. His arms wrapped around her waist pulling her into him as he rocked them side to side lightly.

“This is my friend Harmony. Harmony this is my best friend and brother Durk.” Erik smiled introducing them. Amiyah felt a sting when he didn’t even bother to introduce her.

She laughed holding her hand out to shake his. “Hi it’s nice to finally meet you. I heard a lot about you Durk.”

Amiyah observed Harmony. She was beautiful. Nice brown skin complexion, pretty hair that looked natural like it was hers, her outfit hugged her coke bottle shape. She had the perfect breast to hips and ass ratio. Her waist barely existing. Amiyah took note of everything. Everything that she dreamed to be but wasn’t. Sadness clouded over her face as she watched them embrace each other.

“Well I hope he told you only good things. But fuck all that you are beautiful ma. I don’t know how you ended up with this ugly ass nigga.” Durk joked around.

Erik gave him a straight face before laughing. “Fuck outta here. So what’s up where the drinks at? You know I need my shit.”

Durk nodded his head going to the table and grabbed his personal bottle of Hennessy and handing it to him. “Drink up!”

Amiyah watched him crack open his bottle and drunk it down like it was water. The little action reminding her of the time when she was at his condo and how he sipped on the bitter drink before showing her the crazy things he could do with his tongue. Amiyah bit her inner cheek grabbing her own bottle and throwing it back two more times.

“Damn girl you can drink.” She heard a light voice laugh. Turning her head while wiping her mouth she saw that it was Harmony.

Amiyah smiled shyly. “I’m just tryna turn up while I can.” Her words a little slurred.

“I’m Harmony. I came with Erik.” Harmony held her hand out again.

Amiyah glanced at it quickly before shaking it. “Amiyah.”

“That’s a pretty name. Are you Durks girl?” She asked genuinely.

Amiyah scrunched her face up doing a fake puke. “Uh no that’s my brother. I came here with him and my friend who’s somewhere around here.”

Harmony laughed holding her fist up to her mouth. She shook her head. “I’m sorry I just saw you standing up here next to him that’s all. Erik didn’t tell me he had a sister.”

“It’s okay.” Amiyah turned her direction towards Erik who was sipping on his bottle while listening to whatever Durk was telling him in his ear. Once again she was hurt when Harmony told her that she didn’t know about her.

For the rest of the night she remained in same spot. Babysitting the area. Kelley came back a few times trying to get her to sneak away but she didn’t want to. Her mood was ruined every time she would look in their direction to find Harmony grinding on Erik and him standing there catching what she was throwing. So she drunk her bottle and danced next to her brother who would wrap his arm over her shoulder as they rapped to whatever song was playing.

In the mist of the party Amiyah saw Erik whisper something to Harmony before getting up to leave the section. She figured she could use this chance to find him and talk to him. To see how he was doing. To get him to look at her the way he used to. Anything to be near him.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” Amiyah shouted to her brother who only nodded his head drinking out of her bottle.

Walking out the section she bumped and squeeze passed the bodies. She didn’t have a clue where he went. She thought she could catch up with him but with a crowd like the one that was in there tonight it was hopeless. Amiyah gave up trying to search for his frame over the party goers. She strolled to the back hall that held the bathrooms. Going inside the music level dimmed down making it easy to hear if someone was to have a conversation back here.

Dragging her fingers across the wall, her head stayed down not paying attention to what was in front of her causing her to bump into someone.

“Damn my bad.” His deep voice spoke lowly.

Looking up, it was Erik. His eyes were low and going over her body as he stroked his beard.

“It’s o-okay.” Her words becoming a stutter.

Erik nodded his head. She looked tipsy to him or maybe even drunk. He never seen her in this state so it was hard for him to decipher. But Erik knew that he couldn’t leave her alone like this. He wanted to make sure that she was okay.

“You good? You look a lil fucked up.” He spoke bluntly.

“I’m fine. I didn’t have that much.” Amiyah replied. She was tipsy but still was aware of what she was doing.

“I could wait until your finished in the bathroom. We could walk back together.” Erik shoved his hands in his pockets.

Amiyah leaned on the wall with her hands behind her back. “I don’t think your girlfriend would like the sight of us coming back at the same time.”

He smirked as his jaw clenched. “You worried about her when all I’m trying to do is make sure you make it back safe. I don’t want none of these weird ass niggas trying shit. But you thinking about Harmony.” He shook his head as he leaned against the other wall directly in front of her.

“I’m just saying she might get the wrong idea-“

“She’s not my girl.” Erik spoke up cutting her sentence.

Amiyah rolled her eyes and scoffed. “You told me that the last time.” She mumbled knowing he could hear.

Erik’s faces scrunched up. “What’s it to you? Why does it matter if she’s my girl or not?” His arms now folded.

“Because I just find it funny how quick you moved on that fast.” Amiyah snapped looking him up and down.

Erik chuckled. “But wasn’t it you that broke up with me? So I don’t get how you could be hurt by the fact that I’m moving on and you stuck.”

“No Erik I’m hurt at the fact that you act like nothing happened between us.” She was gaining her liquid courage when she stepped in his face. “And how you can just bring her here to meet my brother but not have the decency to even look my way.”

Erik sucked in his bottom lip watching her express herself. “Still don’t know what that got to do with you.” He shrugged.

He was just as hurt as she was. His feelings for her were still raw and there but he wanted to make her feel the same way he felt when she ended it with him. When Erik introduce Harmony to Durk and not Amiyah he did it on purpose. The way he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body close to his was on purpose. The way he let her dance on him in front of her was on purpose. He could feel her stares on them. Erik was hurt and he wanted her to know what he was feeling.

Amiyah scoffed shaking her head. “What is it about her that’s so special? What? The fact that you can fuck her without having to worry about her crazy ass brother finding out about it. That’s why you’re fucking her?”

Erik chuckled. “How would you know if I’m fucking her or not?”

“For you to be some drug dealer you sure are a fucking coward Erik!” Amiyah pushed his chest but he caught her by the wrist.

“I told you I’m not a fucking drug dealer and for someone to not ride dick...you sure are riding mine. Why you worried about who I’m fucking if you ain’t the fucking me?” Erik’s words were hard.

Amiyah stared at him. “I hate you.” She mumbled looking at his lips trying to free herself.

Erik backed her into the wall. He put her hands above her head and interlocking their fingers as he looked down at her and towered over her body. “Fuck you say to me?”

“I said I hate you-“

Her words were cut off with his lips connecting to hers. His hold left her hands and his arms wrapped around her waist. Traveling down to her ass he cupped both cheeks firmly. Erik felt his dick jump when she moaned into his mouth . Her tongue gliding with his as he felt the warmth of it overtaking his body. It’s been over a month since he felt her lips. Erik’s heart was beating fast knowing that it was risky to be making out with Durks sister and how anyone could walk in and see them. But he couldn’t stop and didn’t want to.

Amiyah moaned as she held his face bringing him impossibly closer than what he already was. She could taste the Hennessy off of his tongue mixed with her tequila. She was putting everything that she was feeling into this kiss. She wanted him to know that she missed him and wanted to start over. She didn’t mean it when she said that she hated him. With the alcohol and emotions getting in the way she wanted to say anything to keep him by her.

Erik pulled away with a tug of her lower lip and placed a soft peck on it. He cursed at himself for falling weak for her once again. No matter how much space they had away from each other she was always able to pull him in.

“What is it about her that I’m not?” Amiyah interrupted his thoughts. She tried to stop herself from asking the question but she wanted to know.

Erik sighed putting his forehead against hers. “You gotta learn how to stop questioning yourself when it comes to these other females. Your beautiful ma. Stop that shit.” He gave her one last kiss on the top of her head as he left her standing there alone going back to the party.

“Okay.” Amiyah whispered to herself.

__________________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes!

Tag-List

@supersizemeplz @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @hearteyes-for-killmonger @curls-and-crosses @killmonger-dolan @killmongerkink @migosis @raysunshine78 @alookintohersoul @popcorn803 @just-juicee @mllover260 @kimmyblckswan2 @koriiii @tchallasbabymama @toniilaney @marvelmaree @mia-faith @adreamsublime @queen-b1 @mcdesij @vintage-pvssy @viewsfromrose @ceeverse @smuttywriter @harleycativy @callmemckenzieee @theblulife @bvssmob @everything-is-awesomesauce @xoxomyaah @19jammmy @tchallas-ikumkani-wam @suburbanblackhoe @allhailqueennel @admirehermind @themeirajay @asaanime @bellanay @skylahb @toni9 @iambabyharry @kiabialia @youlovetkay @lahuttor @kehlaniswifee @childishgambinaax @readingaddict1290 @sociallyawkward18 @iamching07 @sourbabynaee @unholyxcumbucket @efonteno @xsweetdellzx @shalynn-m @joanna-doe @beautifullmelodyxx @browngirldominion @rbhp

#black panther #erik killmonger #erik smut #erik stevens #erik x plus size reader #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger x reader #truglori #black panther killmonger #homebody

157 notes · View notes

7soulstars · 3 years

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hey there. I don't know if you are taking requests rn so if you don't just ignore this one. I was hoping if you could do various avengers x reader .. reader has the ability to manupilate emotions , she can take away emotional pain, negativity and sadness from anyone and replace them with relief, positivity and peace, by simply hugging the person! every avenger turns to her after a mission for cuddles and comfort, you can take it from there if you like! thank you💞

Hey darling ! Thank you so much for requesting! I really really love this request it’s really so adorable oof- I made it into a fic and I hope you like it! Anyways, lets get straight into into it !!

Euphoria

Pairing: Avengers x Avenger! Reader

Warnings: Little like really little angst, Hydra, Overwhelming fluff, Half the Avengers act like literal babies around Y/N . I HAVE ALL THE AVENGERS SAFE AND ALIVE IN THIS AND AVENGER LOKI !! Ooc characters??

Summary: Sometimes even the empath needs empathy but she refuses to say it

............

Euphoria ; the experience of excitement and intense feelings of well-being and happiness.

A silent motion walks down the streets, a silent motion called The Empathic Soul that was involved with them, The Avengers. While the rest protected, she distracted, like a guardian of the common folk who had never seen her. They wouldn’t know, but they praised, thanked and loved. Every time there was pain, there was war, there was casualties, she was there and they just knew it. They looked around but couldn’t guess. The sudden wave of calmness replacing their sorrow and panic distracting their attention from her, their silent protector.

That was what the world had named Y/N, The Empathic Soul as she watched the title flash on the TV screen at Stark towers as she sat beside Vision who was failing to crochet no matter how hard he tried. Y/N wouldn’t consider herself a hero, she didn’t fight bad guys although she was very capable of doing that, she didn’t go and almost get herself killed for the sake of getting rid of ‘pests’.

But she was an Avenger ? Yes. She was, but she didn’t consider herself a hero.

She was behind the scenes, away from common eyes just there to clean up the mess and to take the worry of the mess out of everyone’s head. The Avengers had a polarising reputation. Although it got better after they won against Thanos there were still those who disliked them. But there was not a single civilian who would speak out the title of the Empathic Soul in despise. Y/N would like to keep it that way she had told Fury. She didn’t really have the best life growing up, the strain had given her the powers and she wouldn’t dare use it for anything other than the good of the people. She knew protecting someone came with a cost. Her powers can be used for things unimaginable, wrong things and that’s why she needed to stay anonymous.

Though not all praises about Y/N may be true, one thing was for sure. She was a gem, one of the most selfless person anyone had ever met. With or without knowing about her powers. She couldn’t stand seeing someone sad and that is what made her the sole person every single Avenger was ready to get along with each other for.

Y/N had been a part of the team for 3 years now and she had made all the trauma dissipate and had even managed to make the most unapproachable team mmates open up. She had made sure Stark Towers was always warm and fuzzy no matter how cold the world seemed.

The meanest of all things Y/N has done is manipulate the emotions of people like Zemo to make them confess and feel the pain of the people they caused pain to reflect and repent whenever Agent Everett called her in for.

The robotic voice of Vision snapped her out of her zone as she looked at him as he pointed at the elevator. As Y/N turned to look she felt an overwhelming level of tension.

Oh. It’s one of those days.....

The door opened to a familiar multitude of spandex and metal clad people filling into the living room all making an aggressive beeline at the empathic.

“I CALL DIBS ON Y/N !”,yelled some simultaneously as they glared at each other and argued. Some went straight to the bar pouring themselves a drink and another very specific non alcoholic one along with it. Some stood frozen, colour drained off their face, to be more specific, Wanda,Peter,Bucky and Bruce. Peter walking straight into Y/N’s arms as she held them open as soon as she saw them. Wanda and Bruce following as Vision looms and floats behind them.

“That bad huh ?”, Y/N asked as she tried managing to drag the four towards the couch and plopped down with them. Bruce parted away from her and Wanda followed suit a pleasant smile slapping onto their face.

“18 casualties ”, she heard the blonde star spangled man as he wrapped an arm around her waist moving to hug her by the side as Natasha’s arms wraps around Y/N neck from behind the couch, her head plopped on top of Y/N’s for a few before she whispered a thank you and left to go find Bruce. “And 5 completely decapitated buildings you always forget the buildings Steve ! Now move I need a hug from our gal !”, Sam complained as he agressively made motions for Steve to move away from Y/N as he nearly tackles her. “Careful Sammy, it seems like Peter’s fallen asleep”, the empath notifies as she carefully rests the Spiderboy’s head on the couch from herself as Tony lays a blanket on his body.

“Kid was really hard on himself today, he froze mid battle and was thrown right onto a car, the injury was not that bad but it sure was something. He kept asking if he could call you the whole way back”, Tony said as Y/N stroked Peter’s hair as she got up. “Made you a drink as I poured myself one”, he said offering the glass to her which she took and set back down on the table and then proceeded to take Tony’s glass away from him before he could even sip on it. “This is your third glass and I can sense your annoyance, come here ”, Y/N scolded him as he opened his arms for a hug. “My suit broke down halfway through the fight”,complained Tony into Y/N’s hug as she patted his back, concentrating on pushing the positivity strain in the man.

“I need to be back at the sanctum.... Y/N ?”, came a voice making Tony groan why is it that every time I hug her that you need a hug? The sanctum can wait ! Isn’t Wong there?” “Tony...”, warned Y/N earning a eyeroll from the billionare as he made her promise him hugs later as he sauntered away. Y/N let out a soft laugh before taking Stephens hands into hers and a gentle smile . Stephen placed his hand on her cheek as a smile plastered on his face. “You should have come with us......they-......I and the rest of them needed you.....”,he mumbled making sure no one heard. “I’m sorry, I would have joined but I had to get some Hydra agents to spill some secrets.....”,she reasoned. “If I did not have to return I would have loved to talk to you more about how I feel.....although you will feel it before me and-” “I come visit tomorrow”, she stated simply earning a sigh of relief from the other as he stepped into the portal still hesitating to leave your hand.

There were three left Y/N knew. And she knew where they would be. She walked down the hall that leads up to all their rooms, a door opened and before she could react she was lifted into a bone crushing hug who’s only culprit could be the golden retriever god. “Thor! I was looking for you! How are you feeling!” “Pretty usual Lady Y/N ! I suppose you are visiting my brother ! I couldn’t join today’s mission, I was visiting Asgard ! Anyways I shall let you be !”, and with that he went back into his room. He wanted stay but he knew so needed her more than him he decided he could bother her later.

“They were children ! Can Midgardians stoop this low, they were experimenting on children !”, Y/N could hear as she got closer to the door at the end of the corridor. She opened the door slowly and softly, right after knocking it once.

She saw a flash of black and and overwhelming sense of anger and sorrow before she was tackled by two bodies that made sure her head didn’t hit the floor.

“Hey calm down wow what the hell Loki? Buck? What went THAT wrong?” , Y/N asked the two who had gotten quite close to each other with help of her involvement throughout the years. They realized their similarity and now shared quite of lot of things with each other that they could never tell others. Well, other than Y/N. Y/N slowly replaced their emotions as they let out an appreciative grunt. Before sitting back up. “The people taken hostage by Hydra were children. They were beaten badly, hell some were flinching even when we tried getting them out. I may have done some questionable things in my life but I would never think of doing anything to children. This why this planet needs to be ruled !”,spat Loki in frustration as Y/N rubbed his back soothingly. They were silent for a while before Bucky spoke up. “Those kids were being trained, like Nat. Easier to manipulate, easier to make into soldiers like me.” Y/N sighed, her face dropping as she tried not to hiss in pain. “You saved them though right ? I will probably be called to rehabilitate them. I promise I’ll make them feel better”, she tried to assure them. “ It is not about that darling, I just wonder how many children might be there in Midgard that are being forced into things like this out of their will.”

Y/N never said anything after that but what happened was bothering her and was clear as water. But every time they would try asking her she would quickly change their mood to a Euphoric state and distract them. It felt as if matters were getting worst and Y/N looked sicker and sicker. The team had no choice but to ask Fury.

“ I suppose she has not informed you about her mutation.”

“ What about it ?”

“Well it is not as easy as she makes it seem. You see, every time she replaces an emotion, she feels them. The malice, the pain and everything stays inside her and will stay that way until it is not given to other people. Y/N grew up in an abusive home. Empathy was never shown to her and it got worse by the time she was 15. She first started experiencing immense pain and one day it became intolerable. The pain, without her will got transferred to everyone in that house. No normal human could handle it the way she could and they eventually died because of it. She blames herself and that is why she is not allowed to go on missions with you because we fear that might happen again.”

Everyone was bit shocked by the story they were bombarded with. The felt guilt. All this time it was her who was comforting them and never once had they asked her about how she felt. In fact, if Y/N had not interfered with certain things they might have regretted their actions or may have committed unforgivable acts.

She was their hero. And sometimes the hero needs to be saved to.

Y/N was startled to say the least when her bedroom door burst open and several bodies jumped on her making her feel a sudden high and the pain in her head trying to leave She closed her eyes and tried as hard as possible t not let go of it.

“Y/N I swear to god let it all out ! Were a lot of people we can handle it ! Be a little less harsh on yourself !”, nagged Wanda leaving the empath speechless over the fact that they found out her secret. After more perstering she let go. “Jesus Christ !/Oh my god!/How do you live with this!”, yelled different people simultaneously as they felt what Y/N has been holding to herself for all these years. “Lady Y/N I take back what I said about being the strongest it seems like you are the strongest one to be able to do this and take care of all of us with a smile”, Thor declared.

“You know we love you right miss Y/N ?”,Peter questioned.

Y/N couldn’t say anything if she did she would cry. Her heart swelled even more and for the first time in her life she felt like she truly belonged. The soft tune of Euphoria by Jungkook played in the background the lyrics etching the end of this story.

“Take my hand now, you are the cause of my Euphoria”

--The End--

....... I have never written such an intricate fic on this app. I do not know if it is good or not anymore because I am in too much feels. I really really hope you like this *crosses fingers in anticipation*.This was really fun to write! I did delete the draft like 7 times though because I wasn’t confident about it😅.. I really hope you like this🥺🥺.....Please like and reblog my posts if you like them! Feedback is highly appreciated and please do not plagarize my work. I really work my ass of on them! Thank you so much for supporting me darlings !❤🥰

~Love, Hri

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flamehairedwritings · 3 years

Text

Happiest Season Of All

Characters: Chief Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Rating: M, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Happy Holidays! Phew, it’s been a while. Here is a kind of drabble, and also kind of a sequel to Pain In My Heart? Set the year before S1, there’s no mentions of family, no use of Y/N, and it’s just a gentle, kind of angsty little story.

This story contains broken hearts, swearing, alcohol and embarrassment.

I hope you enjoy and have a lovely week!

Summary: Broken up with just before Christmas? Fantastic. The only thing that can help is returning to your home town, old friends... and an old love.

Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or repost my work; credit does not count.

—

23rd December 1982

‘... There'll be parties for hosting, marshmallows for toasting, and carolling out in the snow...’

You quietly hum along absent-mindedly to the cassette someone’s playing from a boombox, gazing out of the window. Usually, you’d have been annoyed but, hey, it’s the holidays.

Besides, you haven’t had much of a chance to get into the festive spirit or mood recently. With the classic Christmas song playing, the train rumbling gently and the twinkling lights in the darkness slowly growing brighter, you’re finally starting to feel it. Inhaling a breath, you lean your temple against the cold glass, your fingers lacing together in your lap as you gaze at the lights.

Hawkins, Indiana. Your hometown.

It’s been a few years since you were here for longer than a weekend but, oh, boy, this year you just need to be here. You’re retreating, you’re not too proud to admit, coming home to lick your wounds and be surrounded by all things familiar, cosy and boring.

You almost laugh. You’d left this place because it was so damn boring and now here you are, craving it. If teenage you could see you now. She’d be giving ‘that’ look which you’re told you still give to this day.

Ah, well. Time’s a bitch, baby.

The train slows as it pulls into the station and you start to gather your things while a few others around you stand and pull their bags down from the overhead racks. You pull your suitcases down as the train comes to a stop, all three of them, with their different colours and patterns. Pulling on your scarf, coat and rucksack, you haul the suitcases down the aisle as best as you can single-file, muttering under your breath as they catch every few steps against chairs.

The wheels clatter onto the concrete of the cold platform when you step down, one suitcase twisting onto its front and tangling with the others as it nearly falls from your hand. Muttering under your breath again, you right it and continue walking down the platform, two small groups of people reuniting having to part for you. Making eye contact with a grateful smile, you’re relieved you don’t recognise any of them; you’re really not in the mood for your own reunion right now.

“There she is!”

Well, just the one.

A smile spreads across your face as Karen Wheeler trots down the platform in her heeled boots, grinning and her arms open wide. The suitcases drop from your hands as you throw your arms around one another, rocking from side to side slightly.

“Oooh, hello, sweetheart,” Karen murmurs, pressing a big, wet kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, Karrie.”

Your smile lingers, and it’s the first genuine one you’ve had in a while. Karen has worn the same perfume since high school and it puts you at ease instantly. God, you just love her. You talk on the phone every other week and have done since you moved out of Hawkins; she’s been the most consistent friend in your life and you love her with all your damn heart.

“C’mon, give me those, let’s get out of here, it’s freezing...” Pulling back, she takes two of the suitcases from you before you can protest and starts striding down the platform.

You have to do a quick little jog to catch up with her, marvelling, not for the first or even fortieth time, how she can go so quickly in those heels. It’s a short walk to the exit, made shorter by Karen’s pace, and she’s parked right outside. Wonderful. Opening the trunk, you both bundle your suitcases in, tossing your rucksack on top of it, and then do a speedy little walk to the doors, yanking them open.

“Oof, coldest winter we’ve had in years,” Karen shivers dramatically in her seat as she rubs her gloved hands together before buckling her seatbelt.

Buckling your own as she eases out onto the road, you blow out a breath. “Yeah, definitely feels that way.”

“So, how was the journey?”

“Oh, the usual, long but fine. It was a lot emptier than I expected.”

“Well, we keep hearing there’s gonna be a blizzard, so some folks have come home a little earlier.”

“Well, that’s smart.”

“Yeah. Means I keep bumping into people at the store that I wish I could avoid, though, and on the street.” She snorts as she glances at you. “Ugh, I bumped into Peggy Dawnes the other day, remember her? She would not stop talking about her perfect life on her perfect farm with her perfect husband and her perfect kids and her perfect lawn. Well, there were ten bottles of wine in her cart and I know for a fact her mother doesn’t drink and her perfect husband only likes neat whisky, so, there.”

“Oh.”

You cringe internally at your short reply, but you really can’t think of what else to say. Karen glances at you again, pausing. You look over at her and find the sympathy you’ve only been able to hear during the last few weeks. She reaches over and pats your knee gently before returning her hand to the wheel.

“Oh, sweetheart... How are you doing?”

You release a breath, raising your eyebrows slightly. “Better for being here, already. But, y’know...”

She gives you a sympathetic smile as she pats your knee again. “Don’t worry, toots, like I said you can stay as long as you want, it’s no trouble at all.”

You return her smile, relieved that you find you don’t have to force it. “Thank you.”

“No worries.” Her smile widens as she tilts her head. "The kids are looking forward to having you with us, you know how much they love you. It’ll do us all some good.”

You don’t ask about Ted because you know not to.

“I can’t wait to see them, too. How have they been?”

You gaze out of the windshield as she tells you how Nancy and Mike are doing at school and how many words Holly can say now, your eyes flitting from house to house. Decorations are out in full force, as they should be, they’ve probably been up since the 1st of the month, and it makes you smile to see them, remembering how you and Karen would go from house to house when you were younger and rate them out of 10 candy canes.

Ah, the simple life.

She’s still chatting about Mike and his friends when she turns down onto their long drive. It’s lined with various Christmas lawn ornaments, most lit up. Lights line the inside of some of the many windows of the house, too, making it look gorgeous and cosy and warm. A curtain is yanked back suddenly and Mike’s face appears, grinning. He waves frantically and you smile instantly, waving back with your eyebrows raised.

My favourite, funny little kid.

He’s already at the wide open door when Karen parks, still grinning. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you open the door and step out only to have him nearly slam into you before you can straighten, hugging you tightly.

“You’re here!”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him just as fiercely. “Hey, buddy. You okay?”

“Yeah. C’mon, I wanna show you this book I got...” He’s already out of your arms and waving you towards the door, which Karen is muttering about the heat being let out of.

Chuckling to yourself, you help her with your suitcases and rucksack, feeling vastly different to how you did ten minutes ago; they never fail to raise your spirits. Nancy greets you as you enter, smiling widely and also ready for a hug. You give it gladly and just as fiercely as you had with Mike, asking her how she is. She shrugs and just says “Fine,” with a smile as you remove your shoes and coat, and you marvel at how she’d once been as talkative as Mike when she was younger. You hear the boy himself calling from the basement, telling you he can’t currently find the book but it’s around here someone and you’re gonna love it! You follow Karen up the stairs to the guest room with a wide smile, calling back your thanks to him.

Passing walls lined with family photographs, it’s a short walk down the hall to the room you’ll be staying in for... well, who knows. Karen opens the door with a trilled, “Ta-da!” and you laugh as you take in the sight before you. It’s completely decked out in Christmas decorations; tinsel on every bit of furniture, snow-globes on the window sill, a polar bear stuffed toy on the bed, fairy-lights around the headboard. You’d roll your eyes at the excessiveness of it if it wasn’t so damn sweet.

“Wow, it’s like Santa’s Grotto in here...”

“Eh, close enough, I wanted fake snow on the ground but Ted vetoed that idea pretty quick.”

You snort, hauling the suitcase you’re carrying onto the bench at the end of the bed and dropping your rucksack onto it before sitting on the bed, your fingers running over the blanket Karen’s mother had crocheted. Nancy lingers in the doorway, and after leaning your other suitcases against a chest of drawers, Karen turns to her, making a shooing gesture.

“All right, go on, Nance, us hot young things need to get ready.”

“Ugh, Mom...” Nancy just about manages to stop herself from rolling her eyes as she turns away and heads back down the hall while you stare at Karen.

“Uh... Ready for what? Bed?”

“No,” Karen laughs, and you suddenly notice she’s going through your suitcase on the bench, rifling through and pulling various items out. “We’re going out, to the bar.”

“The bar?”

“Yes, the bar.”

You’re still staring at her. “Where everyone we know goes?”

Karen shrugs, looking at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, ‘cause it’s still the only good bar in Hawkins.”

“I thought you wanted to avoid everyone.”

“Eh, yeah, but... y’know, only good bar in Hawkins. And...” Oh, no, she’s looking sheepish, her head bowing slightly as she glances from you to some of your clothes she’s pulled out. “... Uh, we’re kinda having a party here tomorrow, anyway, so...”

“What?”

Her eyebrows shoot up, her hands raising. “It just kinda happened. It’s been years since we’ve had one and Ted and I were talking about it and then I saw Mary-Lou at Mike’s school and I just happened to mention it and she got so excited and then I got excited and it just, it suddenly happened.”

Your lips press together as you exhale a short breath. “Well, they were fun...”

“Yeah, they were, weren’t they?” Karen sits beside you with a nostalgic sigh, shaking her head. “We had some of the best times of our lives at ‘em.”

“Yeah... I remember the one after you gave birth to Nancy, I thought I was gonna have to take you to the hospital.”

“Ha! Thank God my Mom came over to look after her. What about the one where you set fire to the tree?”

“Oh, please don’t remind me, and that wasn’t actually my fault, you know,”

“Ha, yeah, sure, that was great...”

You both sigh together, a smile finding its way onto your lips at all the memories that come flooding back. They had been fun. You hadn’t been able to attend every one over the years but the ones you had had been so great they’d almost made you want to stay in Hawkins. Maybe... Maybe a return to a beloved tradition is exactly what you need.

Turning your head to her, you arch an eyebrow. “You didn’t think to tell me it was happening, though?”

Karen shrugs as she smiles. “I didn’t want you to talk yourself out of enjoying it before it had even happened. Same as tonight.”

“Oh, Karrie...” You huff out a breath. “... You know me too well, it’s so annoying. Ugh, I was so looking forward to just curling up on the couch, drinking and watching some of the classics.”

“I know.” She pats your knee, nudging her shoulder against yours. “And we’re gonna do that the day after Christmas, and every day that you want to while you’re here. But tonight, we’re gonna get fancy and go out and get a little bit drunk. It’s Christmas, c’moooon.”

You just can’t help but smile. “All right. All right! Fine. How long have I got?”

“An hour.”

“What—”

She’s already on her feet, pointing at you as she heads to the door. “Take a shower while I cook us and the kids something up, and then we’ll get ready. okay?”

You know you have absolutely no choice in the matter. “Okay, fine.”

“Great!” she beams, reaching for the door handle to close it behind herself. She pauses, though, resting her weight on one foot as she clears her throat. “Oh, and uh... he’s probably gonna be there.”

You don’t have to ask who she’s referring to.

Staring at her, you manage to keep your features expressionless. “Oh. Really?”

“Yeah.” She’s watching you carefully, teeth grazing over her lower lip. “He is nearly every night, apparently, according to Marian.”

Raising your eyebrows slightly, you smile. “Well... maybe he won’t be.”

“Yeah, maybe he won’t be...” She’s still watching you, a gentle smile pulling at her lips. “Shower, toots.”

“Okay, okay...” You wave your hand as she pulls the door closed, hearing her move down the hallway.

The moment you hear her heading down the stairs, you release a long breath, lying back on the bed.

Oh, shit...

Well.

You stare at the ceiling as the realisation suddenly dawns on you.

I might see Jim Hopper tonight.

James Hopper. Jim. Hopper. Hop. Chief, also now, not that you’ve ever been around to call him that.

You’d been friends since you were kids, best friends actually, at one point closer than you and Karen had been, and then feelings had developed when you'd become teenagers and then you’d taken the leap and had started dating and then...

You’d broken up.

And you’d been the one to initiate it.

And you’d done that because, well... It was because of a lot of little things. Mainly, though, you hadn’t known what route you wanted to take, college or work, you hadn’t even known what you wanted to do, but you knew you wanted to get out of Hawkins. And Hop... hadn’t known what the hell he wanted to do either, but he hadn’t even thought about it. He’d spoken once or twice about joining the military, or just starting a job, too. College hadn’t even crossed his mind. The conversation had come up and, well, it hadn’t ended well.

In fact, when it ended, that has been the last time you’ve spoken to him. As you’ve returned home over the years you’ve heard he did join the military, fought in Vietnam, came home, married, and lived in New York the same time you had. You’d been heartbroken to hear from Karen that his daughter had died, and he’d divorced and moved back home.

Now, he’s Chief of Hawkins Police and, well, you’d love to avoid seeing him at all costs. There can come a time when, having not seen someone in decades, you can’t even have a casual conversation because all both parties are doing is screaming in their heads.

Well. Like you’d said yourself. He might not be there.

Hey, as Chief of Police this is probably a very busy time of year and he’ll be off doing something.

It’s gonna be fine.

Absolutely fine.

After showering, you throw on some clean, comfy clothes and head downstairs to eat with Karen and the kids.

Holly sits at the table in her highchair, silent as ever, well, being two years old she only knows a handful of words, but she just stares at you as she has done since she was a baby. Mike talks non-stop about school and his friends while Nancy chimes in every now and then to talk about her own friends, saying names of people in her class that you take a moment or two to remember, and to mutter insults at him while he mutters them back.

Karen half-heartedly tells them to stop in between telling you what she might wear, and you somehow manage to keep up with all conversations. Frankly, it’s also quite nice after being surrounded by mostly silence for the last few weeks.

Whipping your plate away from you seconds after you finish, Karen is up and striding to the kitchen, calling over her shoulder.

“C’mon! Let’s get sexy!”

Your lips twitch as Mike and Nancy groan, the only thing they can agree on right now being that their Mom is a complete and utter embarrassment.

She practically shoves you up the stairs, trying to get you to move faster, and from then on the next 30 minutes feels like a whirlwind. She tries on six outfits before settling on her usual favourite, and changes in your room while you rifle through what you’ve brought. Luckily, even though you can’t really remember packing, you’ve brought some of your own favourites, and, after scrambling to find some shoes to go with them, she helps you decide on an old classic.

Gazing at you, her hands on her hips, she beams with delight.

“Well, look at you, huh! Fancy lady!”

You give a twirl as she whoops, and then her arm is looping through yours and she’s practically dragging you towards the door.

“Bye, guys, we’ll be back late!” she calls out, though no one answers, too busy doing their own thing.

You haven’t seen any sign of Ted and, once again, you know not to ask.

“Late? How late is late?” you ask with an arched eyebrow as she hurries you down the stairs.

“Oh, come on, not that late, we’re not gonna get wasted, we’re not teenagers anymore.”

—

“... God, I hate it...”

The stall door slams against the cubicle wall as you pull it open a little more forcefully than you had intended. Holding it for a moment, you exhale a short breath before moving towards the sinks, only swaying a little. Washing your hands, you glance up at Karen, watching her try to reapply her lipstick as neatly as possible.

“And did you hear Julian is engaged? And Andrea has a new boyfriend? Is it me or is everybody getting into a relationship?”

She snorts, rubbing her lips together. “It’s that time of year, folks hate being lonely at Christmas.”

You scoff, turning the tap off and drying your hands. “Just sleep with people, then, doesn’t mean you have to get into a relationship and hog someone all to yourself.”

She laughs, slipping her lipstick back into her bag before turning to you, a hand on her hip. “Oh, babe... C’mon, let’s find you someone to have meaningless sex with it.”

“Okay.”

The bar has been heaving from the moment you’d arrived. It usually is, but tonight the place is rammed, perhaps because of the time of year, but maybe more because, it turns out, there’s an offer on drinks, it being the holiday season and all, and happy hour has lasted more than one hour. More than two. It’s nearing three now.

Each sip has helped you relax, even as Karen gasps and points out old high school classmates, filling you in on every detail of their lives she’s learned. So far, incredibly gladly, she’s not pointed out a certain Chief.

Returning to your table, which a guy you don’t recognise has been guarding for you, as in literally guarding, he has his hands behind his back and is saying, “Nah, move along, this ain’t free...” to anyone who looks like they’re going to swoop in. At spotting you both, he grins and holds his arms out wide, gesturing at the table.

“All free for you, m’ladies.”

You’re unable to stop a smile because there’s something so weirdly charming about this absolute goofball of a man. He takes a seat beside Karen as you sit, the two of them having been exchanging small talk that verged on flirting. Heck, it was flirting. Sipping from your drink as you watch them, you feel a small, familiar twist in your stomach.

Karen is more like her teenage self when she’s with you, but when you see her with Ted, no longer Teddy as he had been in high school, and the kids, she’s Karen the mom, like she’s caged her personality in and doesn’t quite know how to bring the two parts of herself together. When she’d come to visit you once last year, you’d gone out to a bar and you’d watched her flirt with a couple of the men there. You’d thought it was harmless at first, just a bit of fun for her, she’s a charismatic lady, but then something had changed and, as a guy had held her hand, stroking it, and she hadn’t pulled away, you’d felt a twist in your stomach.

She’s gonna have an affair one day.

The thought had come to you so suddenly and so sharply that you’d shoved it away with all your might, horrified with yourself. No, Karen wouldn’t do that... Would she? Since then, you’d become more and more unsure. You’ve stopped asking about Ted when you talk because she’d just sigh heavily and spend the next ten minutes pointing out every flaw he has, how the romance has gone, how she’s tried and nothing happens. You know she’s unhappy, but you just can’t see her doing it. You hope not, anyway.

Looking away from them, you watch a few people dancing, Christmas music flowing out of the speakers above.

Karen laughs at something the guy says, and in the corner of your eye you see her place a hand on his arm.

“Oh, that’s too funny! You’re really funny... Sorry, what’s your name again?”

The man is unfazed, still grinning. “Callahan. Phil Callahan.”

He says it with such an atrocious Sean Connery accent, making Karen burst out laughing again, and it makes you smile, too.

“Oh, big James Bond fan, huh?” she says, her elbow on the table, chin in her hand.

“Oh, yeah, it’s why I became a cop.”

Your gaze darts to him. “You’re a cop?”

He raises his hands as he laughs. “Yeah, but, hey, you go on and drink as much as you want, I’m off duty now.”

Karen laughs and you make yourself join in, but your heart has started to beat a little faster.

Oh, stop it, he’s not here.

You take a quick sip of your drink again to cover the fact you aren’t laughing anymore, and then Callahan looks up, his grin widening somehow as he waves his hand frantically.

“Hey, boss, over here!”

Boss?

Boss.

The entire room seems to slow down as you turn your head and see a man, who’s stopped for a moment to shake hands with someone, with brown hair and a neatly clipped beard, wearing a brown leather jacket, plaid shirt and jeans, his eyebrows raised—

Oh, God.

Oh, shit.

Oh fucking Lord in the manger.

Callahan is slapping his hand against the vacant seat at the table, that happens to be close to you, practically shouting, “Hop’, here, saved ya a seat!”

You swiftly turn back around, staring at Karen. She’s frozen, staring at you, and for the next three seconds you somehow communicate an entire conversation with just your eyebrows and eyes.

Both of you seem to agree on fuuuuuuck.

You can’t just get up and leave, that would be the most obvious thing in the entire world. What if he doesn’t recognise you? Yeah, maybe you’ll be so incredibly fucking lucky and it’ll be a Christmas miracle and you’ll somehow have just disappeared from his memory.

Swallowing hard as you hear him move past a group behind you with an “Excuse me,” you rest your hands on the table, gripping them together.

“Hey, Callahan, where’s everybody else?”

Oh, his voice has changed. It’s deeper, rougher.

“Oh, well, Powell said he and his wife are gonna come later when he finishes his shift, and Jones, Davids and Williamson are over there, they’ve been waitin’ to get a drink for ages.” Callahan laughs delightedly, and Karen joins in, giving a slightly nervous one.

It draws Hopper’s attention and you don’t dare look up to see his expression but there’s a note of surprise in his tone.

“Karen, hey, you doin’ okay?”

“Yes, thank you.” And then she panics. “We’re just having a night out.” And then she panics more when she realises what she’s said, and that she’s gestured at you, her eyes as wide as her now somewhat manic smile.

Oh. God.

Lifting your head, you automatically smile, your features frozen.

“Hi.”

Hi.

He looks from Karen to you, and you’re suddenly subject to the full force of Jim Hopper’s gaze for the first time in decades.

Oh. God.

You can’t help it; the memories of the last time you saw him flood your mind.

“Hop’, are you even listening to me?”

He swiftly puts down the ball of rubberbands he’d been picking at on your desk, his eyebrows raised as he looks to you.

“Yeah, yeah, course I am.”

Your own eyebrows rise even higher, your hands lifted. “What, then?”

He tilts his head slightly, grazing his teeth over his lower lip. “’What’, what?”

“You weren’t fucking listening—”

“No, I was,” he quickly says at your weary sigh, leaning forward in the chair and resting his elbows on his knees, an easy smile pulling at his lips. “C’mon, just repeat the last part.”

You’d once found this all charming and endearing.

Your hands going to your waist, you exhale another breath before folding your arms, managing to calm yourself.

“What are you gonna do after school?”

Hop’ shrugs, leaning back again. “I don’t know. What are you gonna do?”

It was just the answer you’d feared, and expected. Licking your lips, you glance down at the carpet before steeling yourself and meeting his gaze again.

You can do this.

“I’m thinking of moving.”

He nods, his smile returning. “Okay, where?”

“I don’t know. New York, maybe. There’s jobs there and I have a friend there, I could stay with her for a bit.”

“Or we could get a place together.”

You stare at him, feeling your stomach twist.

“So... you’re, you’re just gonna follow me where I go.”

“Yeah.” His brow dips slightly, the smile still there, though it’s hesitant. “Aren’t girlfriends supposed to be happy when their boyfriends say that?”

“Yeah, but... What do you want to do?”

Hop’ shrugs again. “I don’t know. I know I wanna be with you, though.”

You’d once have quietly swooned at that and given him a fond smile. Now, though... You want more.

“Hop’, I don’t... I don’t wanna be one of those high school couples that just sticks together because they’re together. I want you to actually want this.”

He’s frowning again, confusion starting to set in. “I do.”

You say it quietly. “I don’t think you do.”

He stares at you, all traces of his smile gone. Then, he scoffs, leaning back in his chair a little more as he folds his arms.

“So now you’re tellin’ me what I do and don’t feel?”

“No, I just, I want you to have some drive, some ambition, not just go along with what I say and do.”

“I go along with it because it’s what I want.”

You can feel tears stinging at your eyes but your mind has also been made up.

“I don’t think it is, I just think it’s easy and safe for you.”

“Stop tellin’ me what I’m feelin’!”

His voice raising makes yours, too.

“Am I wrong?”

He looks at you like he has no idea who you are, and for some reason that really pisses you off because you don’t really recognise him anymore, either.

“Why are you pushing me away?!”

“I’m not, I—”

“Where has all this come from, then?!”

“I don’t know if I want this!”

Silence falls.

You swallow thickly as he stares at you, your voice cracking slightly.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but... y’know, Karrie and Teddy, they... I look at them and at Joyce and Lonnie and they’re so happy, they know what they want, and they can’t wait to get married and settled down, here, but...”

“You don’t want that,” he finishes for you, quietly.

You speak after a moment, your tone matching his. “I don’t.”

“You don’t want me.”

That sends a knife through your heart because honestly? You have no idea.

Shaking your head, you close your eyes for a moment. “No, yes, I... I don’t know. I care so much about you, but... I just think we’re on different paths.”

His gaze drops as your words linger in the air. Clearing his throat, he glances up at you again.

“What if we just take a break, for a bit. Or I can come up and visit you, in New York.”

He’s just a boy, you suddenly think, your heart breaking.

Biting at your lower lip to stop it from trembling, you give a small shrug. “I think that wouldn’t be fair on us both.”

He nods slowly, his jaw moving, and you’ve never seen him this distant. Raising his eyebrows slightly, he stands.

“Seems you already had this all figured out.”

“No, no, I didn’t, I just don’t want to be unfair to you—”

“Could I have said anything that would have changed your mind?” His quiet words silence you, and you have to stifle a sob.

“... No.”

Hop gazes at you, and after several moments he nods. “Good luck with everything.”

You’d burst into tears the moment he’d left your room. The front door had slammed shut and as you’d sat on your bed and cried and cried you’d heard his car door slam, too. You’d cried for days, going between telling yourself you’d made a huge mistake, and then that you’d done what was best, that he didn’t appreciate you like he used to and it wasn’t your job to fix him and coach him through life and that... yeah, you’d fallen out of love with him.

You hadn’t just lost a boyfriend that day, though, you’d also lost your best friend.

You loved Karen but there was just something different about Hop’, something that made you feel safe and like you could tell him anything and he wouldn’t judge. As you’d moved away and the months had gone on, several triumphs and bad days had happened, and all you’d wanted to do was just pick up the phone to call him and tell him. You’d stopped yourself every time.

Then, at some unremarkable point, you’d just stopped getting that urge, and life had moved on.

Oh, it certainly had moved on.

You stare at him, trying to look without looking. You can still see the face of the teenager you once knew, though with the beard and the lines at the corners of his eyes he’s very much a man now.

God, is he a man.

He was tall when you’d known him, but is he taller now, somehow? Had he had another growth spurt in his twenties? His hands are huge, too, and he’d been confident back then but it had come from cockiness whereas now he just seems quietly so, more sure of himself.

And you have absolutely no idea what he’s thinking. He’s staring at you so expressionlessly that you believe for a moment or two he actually has forgotten you.

Then, he speaks

“Hey. Been a long time.”

Hey. Been. A. Long. Time.

Said like you didn’t once whisper “I love you” to each other and share every single secret you’d ever had.

Then again, all you’d been able to muster up was a ‘Hi’.

You’re still smiling and you don’t know how to stop.

“Yeah, it has.”

“How are you?”

“Fine, thank you, you?”

“Yeah, good. You home for the holidays?”

“Yep.”

He runs his fingers over his mouth as he nods, and oh my God, he’s attractive. Is he, or is it the alcohol?

Wanting to banish the thoughts from your mind and distract yourself, you quickly continue.

“I’m staying with Karen.”

“That’s nice.” It’s said absolutely expressionlessly. “Just ‘till the new year?”

“Uhm, indefinitely. I’m, I’m working, uh, going through, uh, I’m moving, at the moment.��

“Okay. Well, I hope it goes okay.”

Oh my God, he’s winding down the conversation. He’s gonna go.

And you’re still smiling.

“Thank you.”

Nodding, he glances at Callahan. “I’m gonna go and check in with the others, see how they are.”

Callahan just nods once, his gaze flicking from you to Hopper and back again with utter confusion.

Rising, Hopper glances from Karen to you.

“See you around.”

“Yeah, bye, happy holidays,” you answer, Karen possibly unable to speak.

His lips move slightly, possibly into a faint smile. “Yeah, to you, too.”

And then he walks away, heading for the bar. Staring at where he’d just been sat, a slightly strangled sound releases from the back of your throat.

“Oh my God, oh my God...”

Looking to Karen, a whole range of emotions are flashing across her face as she tries to find the most comforting one. She fails.

“Oh, babe, oh God, that was horrible.”

“I know, I just, I forgot how to have a conversation, my voice got so high.”

“It did, I don’t know why you did that.”

“Neither do I, oh my God...” Putting your head in your hands, you then quickly lift it after a moment, pressing your lips together as you raise your hands. “Whatever. It’s fine. Let’s just, please, move past it. It’s over, I got it out the way, it was civilised, it’s done.”

“You’re right, you’re so right, please let’s forget it. Let’s drink.”

“Yes, please.”

You tap your glass against Karen’s as she raises it, and both take a long drink.

Oh, God.

That had been... so uneventful you don’t quite know what to do with yourself. In all the times you’d thought about how this exact moment might go, you’d never thought it would be uneventful. You’d imagined yelling, or crying, sometimes even laughing, but this...

Well. It was really like it had meant nothing at all.

You don’t know why it’s getting to you so much. You broke up with him. Of course he’d have moved on and left it all behind, God, you have as well. You’ve both lived your lives, gone through so many things and come out the other side and... A break up when you were teenagers kind of pales in comparison.

Yeah. It’s all fine. In fact, you know what, you’re relieved. It’s mature. It’s done. That’s it. You don’t have to be best friends with him again, for fuck’s sake.

Lowering your drink, you don’t realise your internal monologue has played out on your face, eyes widening and narrowing. Looking up, you find Karen and Callahan staring at you.

Licking your lips, you shrug. “It’s fine. It’s fine. Who wants another drink?”

You’re out of your seat and heading to the bar before they can respond. Karen sits back in her chair as she blinks, watching you stride away.

“Can someone just please tell me what’s going on?” Callahan bursts out, his hands raised.

“Oh, God, sweetie...” Karen sighs, reaching for her drink again. “... I have no fucking clue.”

—————————————————————————————————

24th December 1982

“Ughhh... Oh, God...”

It’s not your own groaning that wakes you, but that of someone else.

Cracking open an eye, you stare up at the ceiling as the groaning continues.

Uh, my mouth is so dry...

Licking your lips, you turn your head and find Karen on the other side of the bed, her hair bedraggled and spilling across the pillow, mascara halfway down her face, lipstick smeared. Turning her own head, she looks at you and groans again.

“Am I alive?”

“I think so,” you rasp, and she groans mournfully.

“Ughhhh... I don’t even remember how we got home...”

Closing your eyes, you scratch at your forehead, trying to remember yourself.

You’d gone to the bar, drank, drank a lot, maybe danced a little, spoken with your old classmate, Jessica? Justine? and then... Oh, what was his name again...

“Callahan,” you murmur, your throat aching. “Callahan brought us home.”

“Oh, yeah... Didn’t we ask him to turn on his lights?”

Your lips twitch as you recall how you’d both screamed with joy and whooped and cheered as he’d turned on the lights, waving your arms from side to side.

You snort and she glances at you. A laugh escapes you as you think about the absurdity of it all, and then she’s laughing, too, her cackle loud and delighted.

“Oh my God... Ugh, that was fun...” she sighs, her smile lingering.

“Yeah...” you murmur, stretching your legs out.

“We’ll have fun tonight, too.” She pats your hand, exhaling a breath. “If we just... If we just sleep ‘till noon, and then we can start preparing the house... Maybe even two, it won’t take long...”

You hum, closing your eyes, and, yeah, sleeping a little longer does sound like a good idea... Besides, when you’re unconscious, you don’t have to think about a certain embarrassing event that happened...

Perfect.

You focus on the softness of the bed as Karen snores lightly beside you, already fast asleep... Yeah... the joy of unconsciousness...

—

“... Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock... Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring... Snowin' and blowin' up bushels of fun... Now the jingle hop has begun...”

Adjusting a plate on the table, you straighten and blow out a breath, trying to stifle a yawn.

I really can’t handle a night out anymore.

Brushing your hands together, you turn, surveying the party that’s in full-swing. It’s only a couple of hours in but it’s already a success. People are talking, laughing, dancing, singing, eating, drinking, having a merry old time in general really. You feel more proud than you would have thought as your gaze drifts across the room.

You’d had to shake Karen awake at half one, both of you practically dehydrated and feeling not so fresh. After drinking copious amounts of water, showering, changing and finally eating, realising you were both starving, you’d flown around the house together, tidying, cleaning, cooking up food, putting drinks out and decorating. It had been another whirlwind but a wonderful whirlwind. You’d had so much fun, and hadn’t thought once about The Incident. An hour before the party was due to start, you and Karen had gotten ready, selecting slightly more festive outfits than the ones you’d worn last night.

Now, she’s in the kitchen, laughing at something a neighbour is saying, while Mike and Nancy talk in separate corners with some of their friends who have turned up, and Ted, who’d you’d finally bumped in to and greeted, was sat in his armchair, talking with a guy who looked slightly desperate to get away.

The doorbell chimes and you catch Karen’s eye, waving your hand and mouthing, “I’ll get it,”, as you’ve done so for the last few chimes.

You have to carefully push your way past people on the way to the foyer, which is surprisingly empty. Moving to the door, you grip the handle and pull it open, a smile already on your lips.

“Hey—”

You cut yourself off, pausing as you stare up at the man.

Hopper stares back at you, shoulders slightly hunched from the cold, hands in his pockets.

"Hi,” he says, glancing behind you briefly.

"Hey,” you repeat, your heart pounding.

... Whaaaaaat is he doing here?

As if he’s somehow heard your thought, he clears his throat and raises his eyebrows a little. “Uh, Callahan said we were invited.”

Oh, fuck, yes, you’d forgotten Karen had insisted he come, and you, jokingly, had said, ‘Hey, why not invite Hopper, too?’

Haha. Ha. What a hilarious joke. What a hilarious little joke that Callahan clearly hadn’t taken as a joke so it is now real.

Just as you realise you haven’t answered him, he clears his throat again. “Should I—”

“Oh, no, God, sorry, come in.” Holding the door open, you step back, gesturing with your other hand into the foyer.

He steps in, glancing at the party beyond before he turns to you as you close the door, looking up at him.

You’re staring again.

Swallowing, you point at the stairs. “Uh, coats are up here, I’ll show you.”

Before he can answer, you stride to the steps and ascend, gripping the bannister.

Ooh... Ooh, what’s happening... What am I doing...

You’ve shown the last few people up to where the coats are being kept, just in case you can’t see them out, but this is... This is rather intimate.

You hear him behind you, following you up, and you make yourself exhale a long breath to try and calm your heart.

Be an adult.

The coats are being kept where they usually would at a Wheeler party; the guest room, AKA your room. It’s one of the reasons you’ve been basically escorting people up to it, not wanting them to linger in there or have a stranger possibly go through your things.

Pushing the door open, you step in to the dimly lit room and gesture at the bed that’s piled high with coats, scarves and jackets.

“Just here, leave it anywhere.”

He stands in the doorway, hands back in his pockets.

“I’m actually not stayin’ long, I’ve got a shift soon.”

Your hands drop. “Oh. Okay...” You can’t stop a slight frown from crossing your features. “Why did you come up, then?”

Hopper meets your gaze, his jaw moving minutely. “‘cause I want to talk to you.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

You’re sweating, your fingers flexing by your side.

Okay, here we go, he’s gonna yell at me and tell me everything he’s been holding back, here we go...

Shifting his stance, he leans against the doorframe, his gaze holding yours. “Listen, last night, I... I’m sorry I left so abruptly. That wasn’t, uh... polite of me.”

... Well, that’s not what you’d expected.

Your lips parted, you gaze at him. “Uh, no, no, no, it’s fine, I, I completely get it. It’s, uhm...” You pause, swallowing. Then, you smile faintly, and just say it, your voice dropping slightly. “... It’s weird, isn’t it.”

“Yeah. Fuck, yeah, it is.” He lets out a laugh, and for some reason the sound of it warms you. “I was a little taken aback when I saw you, I was totally unprepared.”

“Oh, me, too.” You exhale a laugh, your smile easing. “I wanted to say so many things but my brain wasn’t quite connected to my mouth.” You laugh again, though it’s more nervous this time, because you know if you don’t say it now, you never will. Your tongue gliding across your lips, you raise your hands a little. “Look, Hop, I...” Fuck, it feels strange saying his name again. “... I’m sorry for how things ended between us.”

Hopper’s already shaking his head before you’ve finished, a slight dip to his brow. “Don’t be. I think it was the kick up the ass I needed, and I knew you were right. Took me a little while to admit that, but, yeah.”

“Still, I could have given us a chance—”

“We were kids,” he cuts you off gently with a light smile, shrugging. “Neither of us knew what we were doin’ or how to handle somethin’ like that.”

You snort. “I still don’t.”

A corner of his mouth lifts a little higher. “Yeah, me, too.” Grazing his teeth over his lower lip, you watch him as he seems to consider something, your cheeks heating slightly at his intense gaze. “... Stop me if I’m, uh, treadin’ where I shouldn’t, but, and I’m just connectin’ the dots here, you said you’re stayin’ in Hawkins indefinitely, is that because something similar has happened?”

You give a faint smile, pointing a finger at him as you raise your eyebrows. “Yeah, you got me. I, uhm...” Here we go... “... I broke up with my fiancé. Or, he broke up with me, actually.” Your smile widens a little more. “Good connecting, you must be a great Chief.”

“Well, I do my best.” He looks sympathetic in a way that is mercifully not pitying. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. I feel like shit every day, but, it was for the best. He was an asshole. I just didn’t want to see it.”

“How come he did the breaking up, then?”

You fold your arms, exhaling a breath. “He met someone else. Didn’t even bother to hide it or save my feelings. Just told me.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, it really did.”

“Still,” he nods his head at you, “you seem much better off.”

You feel a little proud at that, because, actually, you feel like a mess. “Thanks. Karen’s letting me stay here until I figure out what I wanna do. I don’t even know if I like my job anymore or if it’s just everything that’s going on making me feel like I hate it, or maybe I have hated it for a while and I just don’t want to admit that to myself either.” You catch yourself from continuing, releasing a sheepish laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m just rambling on now, you can go back down—”

“Nah, it’s okay, I like listenin’ to you.”

He says it so sincerely, holding your gaze, that you don’t quite know what to do. Biting at your lower lip briefly, you look away for a few moments, your fingers twisting together.

“Well... Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You can hear the smile in his tone, so you look up, and God...

You’ve missed that smile.

His expression is so soft, too, so gentle and...

No, no, no, no... No, it’s just because you’re sad and it’s Christmas and—

Clearing his throat, he leans an arm against the chest of drawers beside the door.

“Y’know, I... I’ve thought about you over the years, thought about reachin’ out. I heard from someone years ago that you were in New York and I... I told myself I was gonna look you up but... I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Didn’t know if you’d even want to see me.”

A smile pulls at your lips, your chest aching slightly. “I think I would have.” Biting at your lower lip again, you take a breath. “... I’ve thought about you, too. Sometimes I think about if I made the biggest mistake of my life in leaving you.”

He blinks, before quickly smiling, shaking his head. “Like I said, we were just kids. We didn’t know any better.”

“I know.”

You’re gazing at each other again, quietly.

Don’t.

Clearing your throat, you make yourself smile. “I’m so sorry, I should have offered you a drink, I—”

“Would you like to go out for a drink?” he asks, so swiftly that it’s as if he’d been waiting to. “So we can catch up properly?”

Staring at him, you feel something quietly ignite within you. He looks somewhat nervous, and for some reason it calms you instantly.

A softer smile returning to your lips, you nod. “I’d like that.”

One corner of his mouth lifts a little higher than the other as he straightens, his hands falling to his sides. “Good. Okay. I’ll call. I gotta head out now, sorry, I just wanted to drop by before my shift.”

He wanted to drop by... to see me.

Trying to contain your smile, you move towards him, heading for the door. “It’s okay, I’ll walk you out.”

“Thanks.”

You head down the hallway and stairs in silence, your heart fluttering wildly. You’re suddenly very aware of your body, and of his right behind you, and oh my God, when was the last time I felt this way?

Pulling the door open, you hold it for him as you smile.

“Well, I hope your shift goes okay.”

“Thanks.”

He’s stood before you, a hand in his pocket, and he doesn’t move.

Then, his other hand moves to rest on your arm gently as he lowers his head and presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

Oh, fuck.

His lips brushing against your skin makes your heart stop and every inch of your skin warm. It’s brief, far too brief, and when he pulls his head back to look at you, you desperately hope you don’t look as flustered as you feel.

Giving a slightly breathless smile, you hold his gaze. “Merry Christmas, Hop’.”

The smile he gives in return has you feeling a way you know you haven’t in years.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

—————————————————————————————————

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tatooedlaura-blog · 3 years

Text

Max 2.0

post-Max. Because the car is the best place to deal with crises of being and pseudo-bad grammar ...

Our Moment Chapter 1: Five Words (post-Leonard Betts) Chapter 2: Sidebar Nonsense (post-Memento Mori) Chapter 3: Interim (floating somewhere around Unrequited) Chapter 4: Max 2.0 (post-Tempus Fugit/Max)

@today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

Out of her bed and halfway down the hall before she opened her eyes, she stopped by the couch, realizing she had no idea why she was out of bed. Vague notions of her gun crossed her mind but then she heard a knock. Wavering for another moment or two in full-on sleep mode, she shook her head lightly, tried to pry her eyes open, then regretted it, eyelids stuck together, burning, dry; another knock.

She wondering in passing how long he’d been out there but finally summoning the brain power to move her legs again, she made it to the door. Peering out at him through the peephole, she yawned, then unlocked the door, pulling it open, squinting at the glaring hall light, “you okay?”

Now, he’d known she would probably be asleep, had to be asleep given it was nearly 1am, but that didn’t stop him from being surprised by her pillow-creased face and unfocused eyes, “yeah, um, I’m now realizing this was stupid. You’re asleep. I should be asleep. I’m sorry.” Not turning away, however, hoping if he stood there long enough, she’d invite him in, “I’m sorry.”

Scully knew him like no other and stepping aside, “come on in.”

He did, leaving shoes and coat on, standing, filling, overwhelming the area he stood in, doorframe small behind him, “thanks.” Folding arms, not in that annoyed way of hers but in the ‘I’m trying to hold in a yawn so I will stupidly think that crossing them will keep it from rising to the surface’. It did not work and Mulder sighed, apologizing again, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

“I just … I can’t stop thinking about Max and the plane and just … he was me, Scully, and that’s bothering me more than I thought it would.”

“Would you like some tea?”

Reaching out, he touched her hand, the one not tucked under her elbow, proceeding to play with her knuckles, the hem of her sleeve, twisting the thermal fabric between his fingers, “I was actually wondering if maybe you’d like to go for a drive with me?”

It had been over a month since their Tennessee drive but the memories were clear and nodding, she gave him a small smile before extracting herself from his fingers, “just let me go grab a coat.” Disappearing, then reappearing quickly, she had one of his zipped sweatshirts over her shoulders, thick socks firmly in place and feet shoved in soled slippers, “ready.”

“Do you steal all my clothes?”

“Only the good ones.”

Soon in the car, they were off, quiet between them broken a minute later, “your car’s clean.”

“It happens.”

“Not often.”

Shrugging, he turned right, then left, the left again, the city night passing by them in an unnoticed blur. He seemed to have a destination in mind and asking if he did, Mulder told her, “no. I just want to get out of the city and I know this is the fastest way.”

“Understood.”

Because it was late and dark and she was tired and loose-limbed, she folded her legs under, folded hands in her lap.

She baited the hook to see if he’d bite.

He did, his hand sliding across the center irritation of a console, fingers wedging once again in the fold between bended knee and adjacent thigh. He knew she’d done it on purpose.

Neither cared.

The connection made them both feel better and Mulder, squeezing her leg lightly, “sorry I don’t have a moonroof for you.”

“It’s cloudy anyways and there’s no moon, so I’ll forgive you this time.”

“Thanks.”

She gave it awhile, the pair of them well out of the city lights, darkness prevailing before, “you’re not like Max. I mean, you are, but not in the ways you’re dwelling on.”

“But I am like him.”

“We’re all Max in our own ways. I mean, we have passions and hopes and problems and dreams but some of us fixate on them to the point where it’s their only hope, their only passion and it becomes their biggest problem.”

He moved to pull his hand away but she grabbed it, holding tight, as he spoke, “I am the poster boy now that he’s gone, Scully. I am Max 2.0.”

Twisting, she refolded her legs so they both vee’d in his direction, able to look at him better that way, turn to see him easier. Putting his hand back between her knees, she moved to hold his lower arm, firmly, trying to get her point across with words as well as tactile pressure, “if you were anything like Max, obsession-wise, I’d be long gone. You have passion, Mulder, he had fixation. There’s a vast difference.”

“Not that vast.”

“There is in my mind. Max wouldn’t be here right now, taking a midnight drive with his … partner,” that was an odd hesitation she wasn’t expecting, “he’d be in his trailer, trying to decode the conspiracies of the universe.”

“The Gunmen are probably doing that as we speak.”

“But Langley also cooks a mean prime rib, Byers plays Majhong on Friday nights with a group of semi-normal people, Frohike crochets blankets for the Veterans Hospital and has a 22-year old penpal in Denmark. These people have other interests. From what we saw and heard about Max, while he was a very nice man, he didn’t do any of that.”

“You know about the crocheting?”

“Have you seen the granny-square afghan on my couch? The one you like to snuggle with when you’re tired and don’t want to drive home? That’s Frohike’s handiwork from last Christmas.”

Suddenly, the world didn’t seem quite so down on him after all but he still felt something he couldn’t shake. Ignoring that, however, for the moment, he scoffed, “he’s never made me a blanket, that yarn-wielding bastard.”

“I’ll drop a hint next time I see him.” Feeling the tension leaving him slowly, Scully began moving her left hand up his arm, around the back, to lightly rub the underside of his bicep, other hand splayed around his wrist. It was an unconscious thing at first, then, noticing it, she decided she liked it and stayed. “Do you think there’s any hot chocolate out here in the sticks?”

Looking at the houses still visible from the road they were on, more spaced apart than a few minutes ago but still numerous, “you’ve been living in the city too long if you think this is the sticks.”

“You call it the city; I call it a severe lack of 24-hour dining possibilities with hot chocolate necessities.”

“You’re wordy today. Did you snack on a dictionary before going to bed?”

“Is that your polite way of telling me to quit mouthing off?”

And now her mouth was foremost on his mind.

Dammit.

“I have M&Ms in the glove compartment. Is that a good enough compromise?”

Retrieving the candy post-haste, she popped one in her mouth, then offered him one, “sugar?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Both chewing, Scully returned to her previous position, “peanut. I approve.”

Continuing on, they covered all kinds of light subjects, music, family, things they visited often but both always enjoyed, especially hearing about the antics of Scully’s extended family, brothers, cousin, bevy of nieces and nephews. After one exuberant story about Sam, second oldest of the bunch, Mulder wiped his eyes, tears of laughter blurring his vision, “how did you land all these people? I mean, you have the cast of some off-beat comedy show and I’ve got my mother.”

He hadn’t meant to bring the atmosphere down and Scully didn’t want to keep it there but she had to tell him, in words he apparently didn’t hear the first seven times she told him, “you realize my mother has adopted you right? I mean, there may not be paperwork but there’s pie. Also, just to let you know, do you remember when you were asking me about my mom’s dentist appointment, about her infected tooth last week?”

“Yeah?”

“I had no idea she was having any issues but I pretended to know because, good Lord, Mulder, you knew about it and I didn’t.” Giving him that look that made his smile return, “does that tell you anything about the level of your acceptance into my family?”

“I mean,” looking almost sheepish, “she called to talk to you and I answered and we just …”

Patting his shoulder, “it’s okay, Mulder. My mother can love you more than me occasionally. I don’t mind.”

His eyebrow went up, about to bring down the grammar hammer on her, hard, “you love me? I had no idea. When did this happen? Was it after I introduced you to the Conundrum or, ooh, I bet is was around the time you were trapped with me in Alaska. That tiny room? Checking for murderous prehistoric alien worms?”

Total confusion all over her face, “What?”

“You said occasionally, your mother loved me more than you. So, I deduce that you love me most of the time and now I’m trying to figure out when that all started.”

Fuck.

Oh, hell, why not just play along?

“I’m pretty sure it was when you were about to head into the hospital with Modell: looking up at me with that camera on your head, Kevlar all tight, panicked look in your eye.”

Wait … was she humoring him? He was treading into the unknown now, not sure if he should keep going, “um … what?”

Her laughter bounced around the interior of the car, a happy sound, a light sound he hadn’t heard in awhile, “nervous, Mr. Mulder?”

Smiling himself finally, “just … left-field line drive came in a little faster than I expected.”

“Are we back to baseball again?”

He was going to crash the car in the next two minutes if this kept up, “I think we should just drive in silence for a minute. My brain did something and just … give me a minute.”

Fuck again.

She was pretty sure with one joke, two follow-ups and a mention of baseball, she’d quite possibly changed the course of their relationship in ways she had no understanding of. Silence nerve-wracking, she fumbled for words, “I’m just glad the two of you get along so well. It’ll make things easier.”

She’d never felt atmosphere shift like it did in that moment, the air hardening between them. Mulder looked at her, any trace of humor gone from his face, “make what easier?”

“If … if something happens to me. I’ll feel better knowing … you’d … have each other, I guess.”

Mulder steered roughly to the left, blew through a stop sign, then pulled them into a large, dark parking lot, a high school if Scully read the sign correctly as Mulder raced past. Hitting the breaks, he threw the car into park, got out and slammed the door, leaving Scully stunned. She hadn’t meant to make it sound as harsh as it did and sighing, she opened her own door, zipping up her sweatshirt as she did so. He’d turned the headlights off so the only light was from a parking lot fluorescents fifteen feet away. Coming around the front of the car, she tugged on his arm, “hey, look at me, please?”

“Have you given up already?”

With a genuine scoff in his direction, “I don’t give up on anything. What the hell kind of question is that?”

“You said when something happens to you.”

“No, I said if.” Taking him by the arms, she turned him around until his back was to the car, “will you sit down?”

“Why?”

“So I can look at you, and not up your nose, when I talk.”

He conceded, sitting down on the bumper, “nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“Yes, I know.” Coming in closer, she forced her way between his knees, “but I learned from you to plan for all eventualities. I have a prepacked suitcase for when you ring my doorbell at 5am telling me we leave in 20 minutes. I have $500 cash in my purse and another $500 in my carry-on for emergencies …”

“Bail money for me?”

“Some of it, yes.” Continuing, “I now prepare for all things, even if there isn’t a chance in hell they’re going to happen. You forced me to learn that and I have and that’s all my comment was. I will be fine,” moving her palms to his face, thinning fingers, delicate steel hands against his cheeks, covering his ears as she tilted his head up to look at her, “but I feel better knowing mom has you and you have mom. You became friends with her while I was missing. I haven’t been forcing you together to create some superficial bond to make my never going to happen, non-impending doom easier to accept. She invites you for pie. You arrive and eat pie. You go home with leftover pie. I have nothing to do with that but I’m glad it happens.”

By now, his hands were on her wrists, eyes glued to her, closing as she leaned in, mirroring that accursed hospital hallway not that long ago. Once her forehead touched his, she whispered, “you are not Max. You have so many people here who love you and need you and you have so much to offer them back and you do. That’s the difference between you and Max. He searched for himself. You search for me, Mulder. You search,” kissing his forehead, then quickly his mouth, “for me.”

Then she wrapped her arms around him and felt his go around her waist. Hugging him tightly, she let the world disappear, sinking against him, warm, solid, against her.

“Who knew this much angst could come from a misplaced modifier?”

“We know now. Never let it happen again.”

With a chuckle, he shifted his head, talking into her shoulder, “Modell? Really?”

She just hugged him tighter, staying quiet against him as he held her close.

&&&&&&&&&&

They may have stayed like that for two minutes. It may have been ten. Regardless, eventually, Scully had to whisper into Mulder’s neck, where her mouth had landed earlier when she turned her head, “Mulder?”

Just as quietly, “yeah?”

“Can you take me home to bed, please?”

“Should I comment on the structure of that sentence as well or just be quiet?”

Giving another kiss to his neck, she pushed back off of him, sly grin, “just take me home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

&&&&&&&&

After a quiet goodnight/good morning at her bedroom door, he wandered to the living room, taking up residence on her couch, 3am sleepy as his head hit the spare pillow and his mind was finally calm.

#My writing #post-max #MulderNScully #Frohike's Granny squares #Byers Mahjong #Mulder's pie #Maggie Scully #xfiles #xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #txf fanfic #cancer arc

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