#I want them senior citizens
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pulchritudinousminx · 5 months ago
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I'm so tired of lying. I'm so exhausted of the deception... I want to be sandwiched between Stanley Pines and Stanford Pines. PLEASE. I WANT TO BE STANWICHED. 😔😔 I DO NOT CARE IF THEY ARE BEEKEEPING AGE, I WANT THEM TO KEEP ME.
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einsatzzz · 8 days ago
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i can chat a bit more lately, a good sign that my health stonks are stabilizing. i do still have additional lab tests to do, since the pain isn't going away despite the strong meds the doctor is giving me
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irene-reve · 2 years ago
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i'm proud of myself
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jrueships · 2 years ago
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NONO the VOIDNOONOO
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old-man-hell · 1 year ago
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one of these days i'm going to arrange all of THEM together in a picture just to see what the common denominator is here. i need to know.
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tariah23 · 1 year ago
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Ppl still be calling Sasuke abusive, it’s crazy to me-
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iamindebt · 1 year ago
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was talking with relatives over dinner and the israel vs gaza crossfire came up and i mentioned that "oh yeah no thats a genocide" and one of them goes "oh no their just trying to kill the hamas because they killed a bunch of israelis"
and at this point i can already see where this is going so i say "They BOMBED a HOSPITAL-" Aand not even joking this person replies with "oh well the hospital was a setup-"
"They killed like 5 year olds-"
"Well they had to bomb the hospital because it was a setup from the hamas!"
???????? Person i have blood ties too????? Its a hospital??????? Also I JUST MENTIONED THE CHILDREN???
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eraserheadadult · 6 months ago
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the thing is old women are really really sexy but if you are in your twenties lusting after senior citizens understand how bad the odds are against you. the truth of the matter is crushing. i am 28 and the idea of dating a 20 year old is completely unthinkable to me. there are simply not enough predatory gilfs to go around most older women wont want you bc you arent old enough to remember when you could just walk into an airport off the street. youre making them stare the passage of time directly in the ass. one time an 18 year old hit on me and the amt of psychic damage i took from that was unreal. yeah i also want pussy thats lived thru watergate but if i were old & hot and someone 30 years my junior tried to rizz me up i would be like where are your parents
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chubby-bun-bun · 2 months ago
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untitled (part 4)
The man you stumbled into is bleeding out. And he's distractingly pretty.
nav: one, two, three, four (current), five, six or: read on ao3
tags: sylus x reader, an au where you're an average citizen, slow burn, mentions of blood, fluff, you panic bc of his lethal face card, valid reaction tbh, 10/10 would do the same
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Interacting directly with a beautiful man reduces you to an idiot, you realize.
You’ve met attractive men before—had crushes on such men. They weren’t necessarily easy on the eyes, but there was always something they said, did, or had that made you feel some type of way about them. The seventh-grade classmate who shushed your chattering peers during your presentation. The corner store clerk with pretty hands. The college senior who made you feel welcome at your acquaintance party. The tall guy who unknowingly saved you from getting squished by the sardine-packed commuters on the train.
Sure, your next interactions with them made you hyper-aware of their presence for a time—hanging on to their every word and unknowingly seeking them out in the room. But you think you remained fairly casual and blasé with them, as you do with most things.
Unlike right now.
As your mind begins to clear, you register that you’re stripped down to just your base layer. In the middle of winter. Your puffer jacket lies damp on the ground, and your sweater—now sporting huge splotches of blood—is folded haphazardly against the man’s abdomen. (You try not to let the sight of the dark liquid summon the remains of your dinner.)
Your gaze flickers between his ruined shirt and your clasped hands, cupped by his much larger, warmer ones. When you look up, you’re taken aback to find his intense garnet eyes already locked on you.
“Are you alright?” he asks, the deep, velvety timbre of his voice compelling you to straighten up unconsciously.
“Yes,” you splutter, air barely making it past your throat. Then, your eyes widen. “Are you alright?” you stress, gesturing wildly to the concerning state of his abdominal area.
He chuckles. “Never been better.”
You gape at him. “But you’re bleeding!”
He glances down at his bloodied clothes. “It appears so.”
You like to think you have a good head on your shoulders. You always stay on the correct side of the sidewalk. You tidy up your table as much as you can at food joints. You try to abide by city recycling guidelines to make life easier for sanitation workers. And you’re decently vigilant, thanks to the countless true crime documentaries you’ve crammed into your brain.
But alas, it seems a beautiful man is all it takes for common sense to call it a day.
“Okay, so I actually won some groceries earlier, and I think I have some first-aid supplies in there,” you babble, missing the knowing glint in his eyes. “My house is just a little further down the street. If you want, I can treat your wound there?”
He’s still holding your hands. You realize your palms must be clammy from cold sweat—and his blood. You politely pull your hands back with a laugh you hope sounds natural. (It doesn’t.)
“Oh wait, you probably need a hospital,” you blurt, mentally berating yourself for not considering this first. You start fishing for your phone in your jeans pocket. “I can call the emergency hotline for Akso Hospital. I work there. Um, I can even ride with you in the ambulance if you’d like?”
The man laughs, his eyes crinkling in amusement.
“I appreciate the help, sweetie, but you shouldn’t be so quick to give out personal information to people you just met.”
Heat creeps up your neck. He’s right. You’re basically handing him a free pass to rob your place. What if he’s a serial killer?
As you feel yourself spiraling further, he begins to stand, grabbing your dropped jacket as he rises. You instinctively lean back, mouth agape at his towering height and the fact that he just stood up—quite gracefully—despite clutching his wound mere moments ago.
“I’ll have your sweater washed and dry-cleaned,” he says, folding the soiled fabrics neatly into compact squares. “Know that your assistance back there is much appreciated.”
“Oh—! It was nothing. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
A single snowflake lands on your face and you blink, nose twitching at the gentle melting sensation. Looking up, you notice the sky is now a beautiful backdrop of powdery snow, falling softly around you.
“It’s getting late,” he observes, also gazing up at the scenery. “Let me walk you home.”
Before you can protest, he drapes his coat over your shoulders. You’re immediately overwhelmed by the scent of fresh linen and something distinctly masculine that has you instinctively relaxing into the warm confines of the comically oversized garment.
“But aren’t you cold?” you ask, unknowingly tucking yourself further into his coat.
“No,” he responds with a hint of laughter, pressing a hand to your back to gently guide you toward the park entrance.
The short walk to your house is surprisingly comfortable. Aside from occasionally fumbling over your words and avoiding his gaze (his face is distractingly handsome, and his impressive height and physique make you strangely self-conscious), you manage a decent conversation.
You learn he was taking a casual stroll when he had a “squabble” with some old business partners. You can only stare at the back of his head at this revelation. What kind of squabble leads to a wound like that? And how is he acting so fine now? If it weren’t for the bloodstain on his expensive-looking high-neck top, you’d think you hallucinated the whole thing.
You also learn he’s visiting the city on a business trip. After hearing this, the rest of the walk is filled with you recommending your favorite places: the food spots you’re yet to use your lifetime vouchers for, the cat café with the snooty caracal you love petting, and the old arcade where you’ve won most of your plushie collection. (You make sure to share with him a few secret tricks for mastering the darn two-pronged claw machine.)
Belatedly, it dawns on you that such activities might hold little interest for a man like him. Flustered, you open your mouth to undo the torrent of nonsense you’ve been spouting, when he suddenly stops and turns to face you.
“Your recommendations are duly noted,” he says, eyes glowing with amusement. “I’ll be sure to try them sometime.”
You’ve arrived at your house. You're surprised by the unexpected pang of disappointment you feel.
“Thank you for walking me home,” you murmur, suddenly feeling shy.
He hands over your now-drier puffer jacket. “It was my pleasure. Now go inside before you turn into an icicle.”
“Oh—your coat,” you exclaim, beginning to shrug it off. But he stops you with a raised hand.
“Keep it,” he tells you. “I’ll get it back when I return your sweater.”
You hesitate. “Are you sure?”
“Of course.” Then, as if recalling a secret you’re not privy to, he smiles softly. “I trust it’ll be in safe hands. You seem exceptional at caring for things.”
Before you can unpack his words, he turns and starts walking toward the main road.
“Wait! What’s your name?” You can't believe you haven't asked till now.
He pauses before glancing over his shoulder.
“Sylus,” he finally says.
“Sylus,” you repeat, liking the way it rolls off your tongue. “It’s a pretty name.”
Your hand flies to your mouth, eyes widening in horror. Why not tell him he’s hot while you’re at it, doofus?
As you fumble for an apology and prepare to sentence yourself to a blabbermouth timeout, he chuckles.
“Indeed it is.”
You can’t quite put your finger on it, but there’s a trace of melancholy in his voice that stays with you.
With a wave, he walks into the snowy dark, his figure gradually fading.
And that’s when it hits you.
How did he know which house was yours?
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note: seeing the love this series has gotten has been surprising! the comments, reblog captions, and tags you leave are honestly hilarious and i had a blast reading through them 💞
nav: one, two, three, four (current), five, six or: read on ao3
tag list: @thepotatoislost, @xxfaithlynxx, @browneyedgirl22, @vorfreudevortex
check out my other works!
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sugarushwriting · 1 month ago
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cherry popper aftermath
hesseung x reader
adult content featured
it’s been about a week since you let popular playboy and fuckboy lee heeseung take your virginity. and every since then you couldn’t stop thinking about him—mainly his dick.
“just ask him to be your fuck buddy.” your friend shrugged nonchalantly.
“i can’t just do that, can i?” you asked, your fork playing around your food.
“of course you can! pretty sure it won’t be the first time he heard it from a girl.”
your heart sank thinking about the other girls he’s been with and possibly have the same arrangement with. would he want another? would he want you?
his words stuck in your mind, but obviously he only said that because he was so lost in the moment fucking you, right?
you sighed. “i guess i’ll ask the next time i see him.”
and that day came sooner than you thought. literally the next day. but you were least expecting to run into him at the senior citizen center you volunteered at.
“heeseung?” you squeaked, playing uno with a resident as he came up behind her.
“hey,” he greeted your name with a big smile. “surprised to see you here.”
“i could say the same thing for you.” you mumbled and heeseung laughed.
“didn’t think a playboy would like to spend extra time around older people?”
“not really.”
“oh mr heeseung is the best. he flirts with all us women here like it’s his job.” the woman, elena, said with a smile.
“well don’t tell the others, but you’re my favorite miss elena.” heeseung replied smoothly.
elena smiled, probably enjoying having a young, handsome guy flirt with her openly.
a resident assistant came by to tell elena it was time to gather in the dining hall as dinner was about to be served.
“you two youngins behave now.” elena pointed with a smile and walked off.
you and heeseung were left alone. “what do you usually do here other than interact with them?” heeseung asked.
“i usually help in the stock room.” you replied.
heeseung held out his arm, signaling for you to go on and he’d follow.
you walked down the long carpeted hallway to the stockroom that was near the kitchen. as usual, the stock room was empty of people, but full of cups, blankets, pillows, and other things usually needed.
“i usually just take notes of what’s low and what can wait to be ordered for a while.” you told heeseung, grabbing a notebook you kept in there.
“what should i do?” heeseung asked, shocking you to the max.
“um, you can refold the blankets and towels? they do get quite messed up with the assistants going in and out at a fast pace.”
heeseung nodded and got right to work while you did the same with your task. you both worked in comfortable silence, each of you taking hidden glances at each other.
more so heeseung taking in sneaky glances of you while you worked. he loved the way your jeans hugged your legs, but even more so, loved how your shirt was the opposite—baggy and worn out. definitely opposite of clothing he seen you in at the party.
the party where he took your virginity. and ever since, he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. even when his dick was in another girl, he only thought about you.
let’s say, since you, he’s only been with one other girl and he accidentally moaned out your name.
he’s been to himself since then. he urgently went to his friend and roommate jay, actually terrified that he was only thinking of you.
“either you like her for some reason or you want her as your sex buddy only.” jay stated to heeseung. “it could also be because you took her virginity and you have a virginity or corruption kink, weirdo.”
“don’t call my kinks weird.”
imagine to heeseung’s surprise seeing you here, just after he told himself he would try to work up the courage to ask you if you wanted to fuck again.
heeseung knew most girls had high sex drives, they were just easier at hiding it.
heeseung cleared his throat, you looked up to him with a weird look. “yes?” you asked.
“oh, um, i had a question.” he said with a stutter.
the lee heeseung, nervous? no way.
“go ahead.” you nodded politely.
heeseung took in a deep breath, annoyed with himself as he was being nervous. “would you maybe want to fuck again?”
that caught you off guard. “oh, well—,”
heeseung cut you off, “i mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to. i mean, i just, i had fun with you at the party you know, and wouldn’t mind doing it again.” he rambled.
you chucked, heeseung looked at you ears going red. “i’m not laughing at you, i promise. i, um, i was gonna sort of ask you the same thing. i told myself the next time i see you i would, but i didn’t expect it to be so soon and here of all places.” you explained.
heeseung smiled. “you want to fuck again?” he whispered.
you nodded. “i was going to ask you to be fuck buddies, since my friend said that was something to ask you.”
heeseung nodded. “absolutely.”
“it’s just,” you began, twirling the pen in your hand nervously, “i want to be your only fuck buddy in the meantime, heeseung.”
“ok.” heeseung agreed instantly. that was no problem as he’s only been able to think about you. even better, if you only wanted to be fuck buddies with him, no other guy had a chance of getting you to bed.
“really?” your eyes lit up and heeseung nodded. “oh, so, um, when do you want to start?”
“now.” heeseung groaned, putting the blanket he was folding down, and stalked over to you.
your eyes were wide with shock, pen still in your hand, the notebook on the shelf next to you. heeseung grabbed your face in his hands, and leaned down to kiss your lips tenderly.
you kissed him back, soon heeseung’s kisses becoming intense with need. he pulled away, but stayed close to where you could feel his breath against your skin.
“have you been playing with your pussy baby? you shook your head, you itching with need. heeseung groaned, “mhm baby, that pussy is gonna be tight for me again.”
heeseung quickly captured your lips again, pushing you against the nearby wall. he removed his lips, as those and his nose traced down any skin visible to him, and he got on his knees to unbutton your jeans.
“mhm, i know i wanted to eat this pussy baby, but i’m so desperate to have my cock buried in you.” he says, his forehead leaning against your lower belly, his face right in front of your jean covered lower half.
your hand ran through his hair, a smile coming to his face as he pulled your jeans down to your ankles, along with your underwear.
he teased your cunt with his tongue, but quickly got up, cursing to himself for that. you all were in a public place and could be caught anytime.
“lean down baby.” heeseung helped position your body to where is was now leaning against a shelf for support. your chest and head rested against the towels there, as heeseung grabbed your bare ass in his hands.
“heeseung,” you moaned as his finger traced your folds and clit.
“shh baby, we can’t get caught, okay?” heeseung cooed, grabbing your hair in his hands for a makeshift ponytail.
he aligned his tip with your cunt, and slowly pushed in. again, he was met with resistance and tightness, but his mouth dropped open so wide at the pleasurable feeling of you clamping around him.
he had to hold in his moans as well. you buried your face into the towels, keeping the noises from your mouth muffled.
heeseung slowly inched into you, enjoying the way you gripped him, welcoming him in. he began rocking and thrusting, your pussy making noises for him, wetness covering him.
“fuck, i love this pussy.” he moaned quietly, and picked up his pace with the thrusts. the shelves began rocking with your bodies as well, your hands gripping the other items next to you.
heeseung could still hear your muffled moans through the towels, and even got turned on from that.
his hand went down to play with your clit, your orgasm coming close.
he leaned over your back, his body covering yours. his breath tickling against your neck, as he attached his lips to your shoulder and began sucking.
his pace never faltered. “i’m close baby.” heeseung sighed and you nodded in agreement, not trusting your own voice.
soon, you both came with each other, heeseung forgetting to pull out. “fuck, baby, i didn’t pull out.” he groaned against your shoulder.
“s’fine, on the pill.” you mumbled in relief. heeseung stayed buried in you, dick still hard, as he peppered kissed over your neck, shoulder, and cheek. then, he grabbed your chin to lean your head back so his lips met yours for a few pecks.
“so good for me.” he sighed and kissed your ear, before leaning up from you, and removing himself from your pussy.
heeseung helped you clean up and pull your pants and underwear up. you now felt embarrassed at just having sex in public with heeseung.
have you had no shame?
heeseung pulled you in for a kiss. “can’t wait to get you back home to really treat your body right.”
you smiled, “can we not do it in jay’s bed this time?”
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in-som-niyah · 10 months ago
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GirlDad!Jason who supports you all throughout your pregnancy; holding your hair when you get sick, rubbing your sore feet and ankles, holding you through cramps/braxton hicks, buying you everything you craved etc.
GirlDad!Jason who cried for hours after she was born. His little girl, just as beautiful as you, all bundled up in soft blankets. He never believed he could love someone so much, it was like his entire body was burning with love and compassion for this little bean in his arms. For once, the world stopped, just for him.
GirlDad!Jason drives the most carefully he ever has in his life when coming back from the hospital. Despite your incessant giggling about how you've never seen him so scared, he drove like a damn senior citizen. He was carrying the most precious cargo, could you blame him?
GirlDad!Jason who changes diapers, feeds, bathes and plays with your daughter. He never leaves her for more than 5 minutes, and is involved to the point of mild annoyance. You would put your daughter down for 5 seconds and return to her gone, and in his arms. It's the most adorable thing though, you wouldn't trade it for the world.
GirlDad!Jason who can't stand to see your daughter upset. It's a trait he developed when she got to the toddler age, always fussing about everything she can't have and Jason giving in. Every time.
GirlDad!Jason who cries on her first day of kindergarten. Would never admit it though, but he hates seeing her grow up. He dreaded the day she learned how to tie her shoes and zip up her coat independently. It makes him feel like she doesn't need him anymore :(
GirlDad!Jason who will, without fail, play princesses, hair salon, tea party and barbies with his daughter. It doesn't matter if the world needs saving or if Bruce is up his ass, his daughter comes second to nothing. Even if it's to kiss a minor booboo she got while running around the house.
GirlDad!Jason who always brings back little trinkets and toys for his daughter. Her bedroom will be cluttered with stuffed animals and shiny things that caught his eye or reminded him of her. She would anticipate his key in the door which meant daddy brought home something for her. No matter how old she gets, he won't stop.
GirlDad!Jason who absolutely fucks up bullies. Be it in kindergarten or in college, Jason will make sure she and her friends are never bothered again. I cannot disclose his methods for legal reasons.
GirlDad!Jason who doesn't freak out about periods. He's so loving and supportive and doesn't ever make her feel ashamed about it. He'll bring her tea, hot chocolate, hot water bottles, painkillers, heating pads and rub her back if she's in a lot of pain. He'll take the day off to stay with her, and never force her to go to school on those days.
GirlDad!Jason who absolutely spoils his daughter shamelessly. Mom said no more sweets? Well dad sure isn't going to place a bag of candy under her pillow the next day. She wants a car for her 16th birthday? His baby gets a pink Porsche with a bow on top. She's obsessed with X artist? All the merch in the world miraculously ends up in her room.
GirlDad!Jason who will tower menacingly over her first partner. It doesn't matter how much you or your daughter like them, Jason's imagining a thousand ways to hide their dismembered body.
GirlDad!Jason who needs to be talked down from killing said partner when he finds his daughter balled up in a crying mess on her bed when they break up. Nobody makes his precious girl sad. He'll definitely egg their house without your knowledge. He buys her everything she could ever ask for to make her feel better, no matter how stupidly expensive.
GirlDad!Jason who's always up to a conversation. No matter how embarrassing or personal, he'll listen and give honest advice. Because he's so open, your daughter almost never hides anything from him.
GirlDad!Jason who bawls after dropping her off at university. Again, would never admit it, but sleeps on the floor of her bedroom for the first month she's away. He can't help but miss his little (adult) girl. He also flips through pictures and videos on his phone of when your daughter was little and sheds a few tears. Honestly it only makes you love him more.
GirlDad!Jason who still doesn't like your daughter's college partner. He's better this time around, but still. Don't put murder past him. Yet.
GirlDad!Jason who cries when your daughter shows him her shiny new engagement ring. He's so excited yet terrified. His baby girl is all grown up now.
GirlDad!Jason who walks your daughter down the isle with the brightest smile on his face. He slowly comes around to liking her fiancé(é) and honestly wishes them well.
GirlDad!Jason who meets your daughter at the hospital, ready to meet his new granddaughter for the first time. He holds her in his arms, just like he did his daughter, and gleams knowing the cycle is repeating itself. He couldn't be more excited.
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a/n: sequel to this post i guess??? i needed something cute with jason and his daughter bc..... well..... we don't talk about my own father :D
night night guys
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circeyoru · 5 months ago
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The Only Reason _ Part 2
[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Worker!Reader - Mana Chaos AU]
*Note: I got a name for the AU!! Mana Chaos!! A bit random, but I just went with it. Here’s part 2 since the part one blew up.
Part 1 — Part 2 (here) — Part 3 — Part 4
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“Have a safe trip, Personnel 002.”
“Be safe, please.”
“We’re counting on you.”
“Don’t let your guard down.”
As you expected everyone was treating you like you were the one going into a war zone and not the S-Rank Hunter that was doing the country a favour. You internally sighed while you maintained an expressionless face to all those around you bidding farewell or wishing you luck and safety. 
Honestly speaking, you were the safest person in the building, if not, in the world with the amount of Shadow soldiers Jinwoo has put into your shadow for your protection. Just the other day, you were furiously protected by none other than Beru, one of Jinwoo’s strongest general grade or was it higher? You can’t recall and Jinwoo did explain to you once, but your system overloaded and didn’t catch much.
Concerning how those soldiers came to be, it was simple. To raise them from the dead. With every battle, Jinwoo grows stronger and stronger, hence why you privately dubbed him a National Level Hunter. His army of Shadows could practically cover the entire country two or three times, maybe even more. Even give Thomas a run for his money, if they ever meet each other in a battle. It would be distaterous so you rather not come to it.
This is why you didn’t want Jinwoo in the facility at all. He has perfect control over his emotions and high morals if you don’t cross his line. He was overall peaceful even with his vast strength and power. Unlike Thomas, he was tamed and very very well-behaved, to put it simply. You had tried to get your seniors or higher-ups and colleague to understand, but they all brushed it aside, saying an S-Rank belongs here and under surveillance. 
Once, they agreed to observe Jinwoo’s tamed nature, to stop your insistence. However, it turned out horribly. You watched from the surveillance room when your unconvinced party enter Jinwoo’s cell. It all appeared normal until the straitjacket was removed from him and he started lashing out. The guards immediately tried to subdue him and rescue the innocent group from the clushes of the raging Hunter.
A chill ran down your spine as you froze up while the room darkened, an echoy whispered in your ear, “I heard you wanted to kick me out. So cold of you, really. I would have behaved if you had a work-life balance, but you are always in this insufferable building, so I have to decline.”
“You could have just told me…” You voice only came out as a mere mutter, but Jinwoo heard it loud and clear. Whatever controlled and peaceful image you have of Jinwoo gone to the drains, never to be recovered in that moment. Like anyone else, you were afraid. Not for yourself, but for those around you.
A dark chuckle rang and you felt like you were in his shadowy embrace with a weight lunched over from the back of your head down to your spine. “That was an option, but I wanted to show you my opposition to your idea. This was the best way I’ve come up with. Plus, it shows everyone here that you aren’t replaceable.” The weight was gone and the room returned to normal with his words beckoning you to him, “So come and calm me down, Personnel 002.”
Looking out the transport vehicle, you saw the streets practically empty apart from the guards stationed from place to place. You grimaced at the fearful citizens that no doubt went indoors or hid in their homes at the news. 
Whenever an S-Rank is let out of their cell into the streets, be it for fresh air or raiding an impossible dungeon for the country, the public would get news of it and warn the citizens to stay away from the gate and advised to remain indoors while the mentioned locations or roads would be purposefully used to transport the Hunter directly to the site. 
Bringing an S-Rank to an A-Rank gate or higher alone was practically giving them a death sentence. It was the government and people’s way of telling the strong Hunters to control themselves or they would die hourably in the raid while protecting their country. 
A case of such an instance was the Jeju Island Raid. An S-Rank dungeon that have failed for 4 times before an alliance was formed between the Japanese S-Rank and Korean S-Rank. The Japanese Government sent their strongest to offer support, but mostly to get rid of them because they have grown too powerful and influential. With the <Outrage Incident>, they couldn’t afford to take any chances. 
That raid had the most S-Rank Hunters in the same place, fighting the same battle. Originally, Jinwoo wasn’t present and you were with him in his cell doing paperwork while he watched the news. As sudden as it came, Jinwoo demanded to go there to help his fellow S-Rank Hunters from total annihilation. 
When you saw the murderous ant, you knew Jinwoo wanted to add him into his army. You did wonder if the people above would want help, since it was a sure-fire way to rid the S-Rank Hunters but when again without the S-Rank, who would clear the harder gates? This stupid EMI system and all the cautiousness of frightened people. 
In the end, Jinwoo’s wish was granted and you were also sent to the front lines in case Jinwoo went haywire. As drugs and medicine was proven ineffective to Jinwoo, the next best thing was you, since he held you in high regard. Not only did Jinwoo get his new soldier, who was later placed as your bodyguard, but he also somehow managed to control the other surviving S-Rank Hunters. 
What happened after was Jinwoo showing his dominance over the other S-Ranks in Korea and making himself at the top of the food chain. He’s stay mild and controlled because he wanted to. Not because you people —the public and the government— could control him. 
The vehicle stopped and your door was opened from the outside, a guard nodded and welcomed you while you got out. Your eyes looked over to the gigantic gate. 
“Feels like a date, doesn’t it?” Jinwoo’s voice brought your attention to him. Dressed in a causal manner, a shirt and pants, plus a long coat to complete his look, his stuck to his dark theme. You were quite used to him in a straitjacket that everytime he was dressed normally, you were always spellbound. He chuckled and ruffled your hair. “Cat got your tongue?”
“You’re looking good.” You looked away to the side, a faint blush over your cheeks. There was no use fangirling in secret when Beru or some other soldiers would report back to him and he’d have a field day the next time you visit him. You might as well be honest and tell him now to get over it.
Now it was Jinwoo’s turn to freeze up and chuckle. “Thanks.”
Amidst the careful atmosphere, you sense the guards around you two on edge with Jinwoo’s freedom to do anything and his power unrestraint. Better enter the gate before they act out of fear and trigger some ridiculous conflict. “Let’s go, do you need any gear?”
“I only need you by my side.” Jinwoo returned back to his smooth and cheeky self, smiling down at you with a soft look in his eyes. 
You physically and mentally controlled yourself so that you don’t faint from his words, reminding yourself repeatedly that you two were in public. It was hard for you to defend yourself against these attacks of his when he wasn’t in his usual dull look in the EMI. He is one handsome man. “Just say we can go…”
Jinwoo extended his hand to you and waited for you to put your hand in his, essentially you’d be putting your life in his hands because once you pass through the gate, he was your only lifeline to return in one piece. You did so without hesitation, Jinwoo will never allow harm to you and never let you out of his sight so long as he lives. You could feel the nervous and anxious glances from the guards scattered around the site from your nonchalant actions.
With a hum, Jinwoo gripped your hand in his and lead you into the gate where only he and you would be without any other humans. Truly as he said, it’d be a date where he and you could be your true selves.
“Come forth.” Jinwoo summoned his army who all appeared at his command, all kneeled and bowed their heads to him. “Like usual.” His eyes glowed a purple hue, “Leave the boss to me.”
So began the massacre while Jinwoo walked you through it all. The first time it happened, you were beyond terrified for you only knew Jinwoo was a capable S-Rank and shouldn’t be underestimated. That was the first time you’ve seen his army’s might and power. Compared to him, you and all the others in the EMI were ants, mere insects. 
How you managed to capture Jinwoo’s eyes was beyond you, but you were a lucky person to be favoured by him, to some extent. Soon, you didn’t mind Jinwoo’s little favouritism and childish acts to get you into his cell. You looked forward to it. He accepted you for who you are and given you a place, a special irreplaceable place in the world and in his heart. 
For all he has done for you, you wanted to return something for him. You even asked the soldiers in your shadow to keep it a secret from him so it was a grand surprise for him. The Jeju Island Raid that he singlehandedly cleared, you brought the island under his name with your wealth. With the help of the Shadows, you made the island habitable once more and invited some special people to live on it. 
Your hand squeezed his as you looked up to him, he momentarily took his eyes off the battlefield and stared into your eyes. “Yes?”
A rare smile spread on your face, your inner self becoming giddy and expectant of Jinwoo’s reaction. “Do you want to see your family? I’ve offered them a place to live away from all the criticism and pressure from the government and public. They’ve also been wanting to see you too, face to face.”
Jinwoo’s eyes widened. The moment he was reevaluated, he was sent to the EMI building in Korea, he was treated like an object rather than a human being. He could have lashed out, but his family was on the line and while he could use his Shadows to protect him so he has freedom, that only puts a target on his back. By then, people would want him dead for sure. 
The only solance he found in his darkness was you. The you who found out his secret and kept it to yourself, even wanting to give him back his freedom for your security, but he wanted to stay by your side instead. He thought that’s all he needed, but one day, you connected him with his family while in his cell and let him have his moment with them. 
From time to time, you’d call his family and have a video call to let him and his beloved mother and sister chat together while you work in the corner with music playing in your headphones connected to your other device to give him privacy. A luxury he never could have with the protocols of EMI.
He was grateful for all you’ve done for him. Genuinely and absolutely. “Yeah, I’d love that.”
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Note: I seriously did NOT think there would be another part. You guys liked part 1 a lot and I have no idea why. Welp, here's part 2. Not sure about a part 3, but I'll see how this one goes. Enjoy~!
Circe Y.
My Works: MASTERLIST
Taglist: (these are the people from Part 1's comment section)
@stupendouspizzacomputer @xiannars
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spookyrea · 7 months ago
Text
... Though I'm Not That Flexible
(part 2 following You Can Wrap Me 'Round Your Finger)
You prepare to tell Loki you love him. Much to his embarrassment, Loki has to tell you something, too.
(aka - frost giant biology is weird and Loki has to suffer the consequences) (and you're kinda into it) (oops)
Chapter 2 / 2 -- read it on AO3 here
Word count: ~9k
Warnings: 18+ !! fem reader; courtship/nesting behaviour, smut (and I mean... smut)
You watched Steve haul himself into the boxing ring, internally groaning at the thought of going toe-to-toe with the Man with a Plan himself. 
Loki hovered at your shoulder looking decidedly out of place in a button-down and trousers; he was off the training roster for the week after Bucky had benched him for his ‘poor attitude’. The only people currently brave (or stupid) enough to spar with him were Steve and Thor, the latter of whom was banned from sparring with Loki indoors because of, to quote Pepper, the 'Thor-And-Loki Event' in June.
Privately, you agreed with Bucky’s assessment – Loki had been acting strange lately. Clingy, extra affectionate but equally as moody. Any time you tried to pry you were met with the same response – that Loki was “fine” and “had complete control” over the situation.
Sometimes the best option with Loki was to let him come to you. His desire for absolute control was multi-faceted, but it usually worked out best if he could ask for help and feel like he had an explanation as to why. You knew from experience that hounding him could dig up raw insecurities about worth and ability. So - you made the most of it; if Loki was going to be clingy, he could at least be useful and clingy. 
“Hold these, please.” You pushed your towel and water bottle into his hand. Loki accepted them with only minor complaint, tucking them under his arm to make room for everything else you were sure to pile onto him.
Steve rattled the ropes fencing him inside the boxing ring. “Come on, soldier. Don’t keep an old man waiting.”
Loki stretched to hide his sparkling fingertips; you knew his seidr well enough by now to recognize how Steve’s shoelaces unraveled with a mind of their own.
With his arms raised like that, there was no denying Loki’s ‘growth-spurt’ – the buttons on his shirt strained to stay in their buttonholes, gaping a little across his chest. You fought back a grin, watching a young intern (definitely part of Tony’s university pipeline program) spill water down her front while admiring the pull of yet another too-small shirt. A few of her friends giggled, their faces downcast but their gazes teasing, peering up through their eyelashes every few seconds.
“What?” Loki glanced over his shoulder in the direction you were looking.
“Nothing. Some kids are staring at you, that’s all.” You honestly weren’t offended - you remembered what it was like to want Loki from afar, and you weren’t blind. You knew passersby were going to gawk and shoot him longing stares. Loki, however, seemed uncharacteristically upset. His eyes narrowed, upper lip curled slightly in dissatisfaction, and he turned back to you with his shoulders drawn taut. He hooked his fingers in the pocket of your hoodie – Loki’s hoodie, actually, since yours seemed to have mysteriously disappeared – and tugged you into his chest, pressing a firm, dry kiss to your mouth.
You blinked dazedly at him once he’d slunk back. “Is this one of those ‘obviously not interested’ moments?”
He shrugged. “Something like that.”
“People stare all the time. It’s nothing new.”
“I know.” A pretty pink blush was creeping up his cheeks, warming his pale complexion. “I just thought it pertinent to make my intentions crystal clear.” Then, after a beat- “Do you think anyone would notice if I locked the changing room doors and had my way with you?”
You rolled your eyes. “Of course they would. Now– help me up. I have a senior citizen to cream.”
If anyone was getting creamed, it was you.
You circled the boxing ring on shaky feet, watching Steve round on you with that quiet cockiness of his. He flicked his stupidly perfect bangs out of his stupidly beautiful eyes and mimed a one-two punch combo while you considered giving into the universe and letting your limbs turn to oatmeal. Bucky sat in a folding chair on the sidelines, picking your scrimmage apart with his stupidly brilliant and equally beautiful eyes.
You hated them.
Bucky picked up on details you would never have noticed – your uneven stance, the angle of your elbow when you raised your fists – and, while helpful on paper, it only served to raise your blood pressure by a few degrees. Not helped by the fact that Bucky seemed to know what moves Steve was going to make before he did, so could comment on your form before you’d even finished a move.
PAL whistled encouragement when you just barely blocked a left hook. Tony had set him in Bucky’s lap so he could watch you and Steve train. (“He’s so little. He can’t see over anything.”) At least PAL liked you, even if he was out for blood.
“I agree with the pest, darling. You should wring his neck,” Loki offered from the sidelines. He leant his head on his forearms where they were draped over the ropes, his bored expression betrayed only by the way his brow furrowed whenever Steve got too close to landing a hit.
(You were admittedly not very good at hand-to-hand combat. As a telekinetic, your fists were usually a last resort in the field.)
“This would all be so much easier if you stopped - hey! - swinging so much.” You swept the back of your hand across your eyes, hoping to clear the sweat pouring into them. “Also, has your stuff been going missing lately?”
“Kind of defeats the whole purpose of combat training.” Steve frowned, then threw his body weight into a kick to your chest, which you only barely dodged. He stumbled but quickly corrected, spinning to catch your right hook effortlessly. “But no, nothing’s gone missing lately. Well, my veggie straws have been disappearing but I buy those because Bucky insists he doesn’t like them and then sneaks them from my cupboard. Has he been breaking into yours too?”
You squirmed, planting your feet and leveraging your upper body to try and pry out of his hold. Unfortunately for you, Steve was two hundred and seventy pounds of solid steel pretending to be flesh, so you might as well have been a leaf trapped under a fourteen-wheeler. “No. My pillows keep disappearing.”
Your feet briefly left the ground when Steve lifted you by the wrists. He dumped you unceremoniously on the padded floor of the boxing ring and proceeded to loom over you, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and fatherly rage. “Someone’s been perving on you?”
You pushed yourself upright, wincing when you felt your muscles protest the movement. “I don’t know!”
“Weird. Maybe you have a secret admirer. Loki!” Steve mimed an elbow drop but pulled his weight at the last second; he rolled to the side and sprawled out, all six-feet-four-inches of him laid out next to you without having broken a sweat. “Keep an eye on your girl, ya’ hear?”
Loki visibly preened at the idea of you being his girl. You felt a whisper of seidr across your cheek, a sparkling green kiss so fleeting it could have been a trick.
Steve squinted up at him from the floor of the boxing ring. “Are you bigger?”
“You’ve gotta start throwing punches, kid.” Bucky interrupted from the sidelines. PAL bobbed his head in agreement. “Look, I was just like you. A sharp shooter–”
“I’m telekinetic.”
“My point still stands. I did all my best work from a hundred yards away. But sometimes, in the field, you’re gonna have some guy get in your space and wail on you, and I need to know you won’t just fold like a deck of cards when that happens.”
“I’m sorry I’m not built like a tank, Bucky.” You swiped the edge of your shirt over your forehead, grimacing when the already-wet material slid over your damp brow. 
“I’m not saying you have to put on a hundred pounds of muscle. Just-” Bucky slipped under the rope and into your personal space, rounding on you from behind to wrap his flesh arm around your throat. His other hand shot out and circled your wrist, holding it at an awkward angle so that your muscles locked uncomfortably. “Just play dirty. If I get this close, I will kill you. So what are you going to do about it?”
You hissed, jerking under his metal hand. “Ow, Bucky, I get it–”
It took all three of you a moment to register that the noise rumbling through the air was coming from Loki. The fluorescents overhead flickered in waves, darkness ebbing and flowing from a point above Loki’s head. They buzzed and crackled unnaturally with displeasure. Bucky’s arms dropped away to put a bit of space between your bodies. Loki’s eyebrows drew tight in the middle, a scowl twisting his pretty face.
“Hey, My Chemical Mischief,” Tony yelled from across the gym. “Cool it with the dick measuring contest, will you? We get it, she’s a kept woman - I don’t think Barnes wants any of that.”
Thor laughed. Racking his barbells, he straddled his padded bench and flicked sparks of electricity from his fingertips, a strange side-effect that manifested whenever he strained himself. He taunted something to Loki in their mother tongue and the effect was instantaneous; Loki gaped at his brother, his growling cut short, and hurled something – an insult? – back. 
With a few words they reduced the other to adolescents. Though none of you mortals could even hope to dissect their twisting language, it was clear that the two of them were rehashing centuries of arguments all at once.
Loki reeled back when Thor, his nose tilted to the ceiling, punctuated a sentence with a nod in your direction. “You will do nothing of the sort,” Loki snapped in English.
“Loki.” Exasperation dripped from Thor’s tone, mingling with the kind of joy that came from lecturing a younger sibling. He folded his arms and shot Loki a smarmy do-as-I-say glare. ”This is only going to end in disaster.”
Loki’s jaw snapped shut with a click. His pinched expression seemed to push Thor to hysterics. Thor goaded him on, wagging a callused finger; Loki’s hand fisted at his side as he moved to strangle his brother.
They must have been terrible pests on Asgard.
In English, Thor continued: “I have never been happier that you were adopted. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. You’re preening. ”
Loki crossed the gym in a few long strides, a veritable storm cloud brewing over his head. The air crackled, ozone heavy in the air; the difference in pressure caused the open changing room door to slam shut, as if a draft had kicked up. Tony hopped to his feet, pointing between the two brothers. “Nuh uh. You guys take it outside. I am filled with too much scrap metal for you two to be throwing thunderstorms around inside. Again. ”
Loki grabbed his brother by the scruff of his neck. Thor stumbled, still laughing, and tucked his shoulder into Loki’s chest as if to throw him over it. Loki hissed something unintelligible - Tony hollered something unrepeatable - and then the two brothers blinked out of sight in a flash of bright green.
You ran into them in the lobby on your way back from the corner store that evening. Both of them were soaking wet, their plainclothes plastered to their skin. Loki brushed by you with a stormy expression, anger rolling off of him in palpable waves; Thor followed a few feet behind, decidedly more jovial. Loki called over his shoulder: “do not say anything, Thor. I’m handling this.”
They left a trail of rainwater in their wake, their shoes squeaking across the marble floor. Thor clapped you on the shoulder as you passed and, through the widest grin you’d ever seen, said: “my darling friend – make sure you use protection.”
A flash of green sizzled across Thor’s knuckles; he yanked his hand away with a shout, raising his hand to examine a line of fresh, pink welts. Loki hissed at him; Thor cast you a sideways look, then winked. To his brother, he called: “I am always right, am I not?”
Loki snapped his fingers, calling Thor to attention like a master might call their dog to heel. Except Thor was the oldest, and had a petty streak longer than the continental United States, and his younger brother’s displeasure clearly brought him unbridled joy, so Thor slung one arm around your shoulder and gave you a squeeze, rubbing his prickly cheek against yours for good measure.
You squirmed under his arm. “Is this another Asgardian thing?”
Thor answered “no” at the same time that Loki answered “yes”.
Loki stormed back to your side and wrenched his brother away, speaking in a low tone. Fixing his brother with a scathing stare, Loki rubbed his thumb over your jaw, then rode his hand down the curve of your neck to sit on your shoulder, as if to wipe the physical evidence of his brother’s touch from your skin. 
Thor sidled up behind Loki and scrubbed a hand over your cheek; Loki, hackles raised, elbowed his brother in the side, setting off a chain reaction of flying fists and snapping teeth. 
Your groceries were definitely melting. “I’m gonna go. Uh, Loki, you can… You can come upstairs when you’re… done…”
Loki, who was trapped in a headlock by his older brother, nodded jerkily to you. “Of course, dear– Thor. You foul–” 
You watched as your boyfriend transformed into a glossy black snake. He fell to the marble with a sad, wet slap and played dead, lolled tongue and all.
Luckily, your ice cream was mostly salvageable.
The shower was hot. Maybe a bit too hot. Steam cloyed, clouding your periphery and leaving you feeling flushed. You contemplated switching the tap a half an inch toward to the right, but then you risked overshooting and being too cold. 
“I’m being called away,” Loki said by way of greeting. He was still a bit damp; his hair had just begun to curl around the ends. The steam, its attention caught by the open door, billowed around him on its escape path. “I was going to tell you earlier, but my brother had other plans.”
“Oh, that’s not fair. Close the door, please?”
“Right. Sorry.” The door slipped shut with a click. Loki hoisted himself onto your bathroom counter, his hands clasped loosely between his knees while he watched you rinse the last suds from your legs. “Believe me, darling, I don’t want to leave you, but it seems that Fury wants my head on a stake.”
“Thor, too. What was that about?”
Loki waved a hand. “Brotherly taunts. Now would you hurry up? I want to ravish you before I’m a decrepit, thank you very much.”
“Give me a minute.” You turned your back to him for a better angle under the shower head. You heard the shower door slide open – you assumed so that Loki could ogle you properly – then startled when his shadow crossed over you.
“Loki!” You shrieked, cringing when wet cotton slid over your belly as he wound his arms around your waist. “You’re fully dressed! You can’t– bad! Naughty!”
“I was already wet. Now I’m warm and wet.” He tsked, rubbing his cheek against the curve of your shoulder with an arrogance only a prince could muster. “I just couldn’t resist.”
“You’re going to regret this.”
“Truthfully, pet, I don’t think I’ve ever felt less remorse in my life.” His wet fingers fumbled with the top button on his shirt. The plastic was slippery and the buttons small, so it took more than a few tries to get the first one out; by the time he had wrenched the third free, he was cursing. “Ok,” he said around a laugh. “Maybe I’m a little remorseful. But this is your fault, let it be known.”
“My fault?”
“Yes.” Two more buttons down. Loki growled, then tore the rest of them out with a firm jerk of the button placket. They scattered, bouncing off the tile with tiny sounds, and Loki struggled to pull the sleeves off his skin. “You’re so beguiling. I’m– I can hardly tear myself away.” He threw the shirt through the open shower doors, then considered his trousers. “Oh, nevermind.” With a flick of his wrist, the last of his clothing melted away. “Why do I even bother, honestly?”
You tipped your head back against the shower wall and hummed, enjoying the simple pleasure of Loki’s nearness. He was a vision under the spray, dark hair plastered and curling over pale skin and pink lips parted, glossy with water. When his fingers crept over your hip to tease the skin under your ribs, your chest soared, the hollow space between your lungs aching ice cold. 
(You loved him). 
(You promised yourself you would tell him when he returned from whatever mission Fury had assigned, come hell or high water - and you almost believed it.)
When you opened your eyes, you found Loki to be looking at you with the most peculiar hunger. “What?”
“I can’t look at you?”
“I wouldn’t call that ‘looking’. I would say you’re eating me with your eyes.” You rolled your shoulders, then reached around him for the tap. “I’m starting to feel a bit dizzy. Let’s dry off and you can tell me all about why Fury is taking you away from me.”
“You mean you let me suffer through that whole ordeal for naught?”
“I didn’t ask you to climb in here fully clothed. Now– chop chop, loverboy. You’re closest to the towels.”
He left in the early morning. It seemed to take a great deal of physical effort for him to extricate himself from your bed, even greater than it did on Sunday. By the time he had slipped into his last piece of armour, his breath was short and tense, and his mouth turned down in a harsh curve.
“Are you okay, sweetheart? You don’t seem yourself.”
“I’m fine. Just don’t… Just wait for me, okay?”
You were a couple seconds behind, your brain still heavy with the early hour. “What do you mean, honey?”
Loki shook his head. He leaned his weight on the edge of the bed and curled over you, pressing a dry kiss to your cheek. “Don’t worry yourself. Go back to bed.”
“I can help–”
“I have it all under control. I’ll be back in a few days.” He said the last part like he was trying to convince himself more than he was you.
Only three days later and you were going a little stir-crazy. Maybe whatever clinginess-disease he had had rubbed off on you.
You couldn’t take it anymore – you missed your boyfriend. He had been scheduled to return that morning but another impromptu snowstorm had pushed his arrival back by a day, leaving you with an empty afternoon to putter. But once your laundry was done and your shower scrubbed, there wasn’t much left to do besides twiddle your thumbs and marathon episodes of Forensic Files. 
You took the elevator to his floor and let yourself in with a spare key. Your shoulders dropped, an unregistered tension draining as you breathed in the familiar smell of Loki’s cologne and lavender incense. There was a certain comfort in the menial reminders of him – his shoes by the door, his coat on the rack. You tossed your keys on the kitchen counter. “So much for man-eating wolves.”
You half expected his fridge to be barren, considering how much time he had spent over the last week in your apartment, but you were pleasantly surprised to find it well stocked – too well stocked. Whatever occasion he was preparing for was unknown to you, but he seemed to be anticipating an apocalypse or city-wide shortage of seasonal fruits and vegetables. You helped yourself to some from a pre-cut container and shuffled toward his bedroom to take a nap.
You stopped dead in your tracks under the threshold.
“You are the pillow thief.”
Fabric was draped languorously from every surface - a stack of quilts over his desk chair, pillowcases folded neatly on his dresser. The curtains were drawn tightly, two or three panels layered on top of each other to block out as much natural light as possible. He appeared to have gathered every pillow in his apartment - and a few of yours - and piled them in a semi-circle against the headboard. A few had fallen to the wayside, at the foot of the bed or scattered across the carpet, and a great spread of throw blankets was draped across the comforter. You could just make out the corner of one of your t-shirts peeking out from his pillows.
There was a decidedly two person-sized divot in the centre of it all, like you were meant to burrow in together.
“What have you been up to, my darling boy?”
You crawled across the covers and peeled them back, layer by layer. More of your shirts tumbled out, as well as a hoodie and a cashmere scarf. It was bewildering to say the least, but not entirely out of the norm for Loki. (He once spent two weeks meticulously replacing all of your cutlery with a mismatched charity shop set, so what was a little blanket theft, really?) You just couldn’t quite put your finger on why he had chosen this prank, nor why he would bother to build a veritable nest out of his spoils.
Tired and more than a little giggly, you tucked yourself between two comforters and curled up on your side. You’d have to ask him when he got home.
(In his defense, it was really comfy).
You blinked awake to the sound of your phone vibrating. It took you a moment to find it among the layers of blankets and pillows but eventually you wrenched it free and swiped accept. “Hello?”
Loki’s voice carried through the little speaker. “Where are you? You’re not in your apartment.”
You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. “That’s because I’m in yours.”
There was a long, drawn out silence. Then, “you’re what?”
“I’m in your apartment. Which– you have so much explaining to do.” You pushed yourself out of his bed. Through the phone, you heard FRIDAY greet him and a familiar jingle when Loki punched the button for his floor. 
“I… You weren’t supposed to see that.”
You laughed. You could hear him struggling to find his keys, his anxiety palpable even through the phone. “Loki, was this some sort of prank to keep me from refusing to sleep over?”
“No, it…” His keys ground in the lock. “It was…”
You pulled the door open for him. He blinked owlishly at you, his phone pinched between his shoulder and his cheek.
“Hi,” you said, and your voice echoed through his phone.
He ended the call. “Hi.”
The two of you walked together, Loki on tentative feet while you guided him, pulling on one of his harness straps until you were through the threshold. His bag slid from his shoulder with a thud; he was still wearing his armour, which you smoothed your fingers under and began to unclasp piece by piece, setting it on the table by the door.
“Loki,” you glanced up at him through your eyelashes. “Do you want to explain the nest in your bedroom?”
His shoulders tensed. “Thor, you bastard.”
You worked one of his leather straps free, tossing it aside. “What?”
“Just - ignore this,” he said. “Go back to your apartment. I have to go kill my brother, and then burn everything I own, and then maybe I’ll be able to scrounge up the dignity to see you before sunrise.”
He made an aborted movement to turn out from your arms, but you reached out with your mind and slid the deadbolt in place before he could slip through the door. “Nuh uh. What does Thor have to do with this? Is this about your fight? I haven’t spoken to him since I ran into you two in the hall.”
“Wait.” It was your turn to face Loki’s ire, it seemed, because he whirled on you, his finger raised accusingly. “How did you know about the nesting then?”
“I was joking.” You pulled the final knife sheath free, leaving him in his leather breastplate and heavy wool trousers. “I mean, you piled all of our collective pillows into a queen-sized bed. Do you mean to tell me you’re actually nesting? Is this another Asgardian courtship thing I should know about?”
“I-” Loki looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up whole. A familiar curl of self-consciousness had begun to spoil his expression. He turned his cheek and spit out a curse. “Nevermind.”
“Loki, please.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Fine,” you huffed. “If you tell me your secret, I’ll tell you one in return.”
If there was one thing Loki loved more than self-pity, it was being let in on a secret. His eyes bolted up from glaring a hole into the hardwood to catch yours, assessing your deal. “Do not make bets you cannot pay, darling.” 
“I already have the perfect secret picked out. Explain.”
He watched you for a long time. Eventually, with a very careful, measured tone, he opened his mouth to speak. “I’ve never… Oh, this is humiliating.” Loki scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Asgardians know very little about Jotun customs. It’s… We didn’t have much need to study them, outside of battle. But it’s common knowledge that frost giants… mate for life. They pick someone to bond with and when they’re serious… In the spring… ”
 “Loki,” you cooed. “Humor me.”
He groaned and slunk to his knees before you. His forehead pressed against your hip while both his hands curled around your calves to steady himself. He mumbled something unintelligible against your leg.
You ran your fingers through his hair. “What was that?”
Loki sighed. “When they find a suitable mate they try... I’m… My biology is trying to entice you to tie yourself to me. Forever.”
“So the nesting thing? And the um… the clinginess?”
He toyed with the edge of your t-shirt. “Yes. I… I get quite upset when you don’t respond favorably to my… advances .”
“I picked up on that. Wait,” you pinched the meat of his bicep. “Is this why you’re getting bigger?”
“It appears that my glamours are failing, yes.”
“So what you’re telling me is that you’re growing in some new plumage to woo me with?” You trailed your finger along a featherlight path over his jaw. Lowering your voice, you couldn’t help but tease him a little. “Are you going to sing for me next?”
A scowl twisted his expression into something mean. “You forget who you’re speaking to, mortal.”
His tone did nothing to dissuade you. So rarely were you the one with the power to tease and you intended to take advantage. “Anything else I should know?”
“Well, if I’m already speaking candidly…” It came out bitingly, Loki’s voice laced with a burning mix of self-deprecation and frustration. “I can hardly think about anything else other than bending you over every available piece of furniture and fucking you until one of us passes out.”
“Loki,” you warned as his fingers wormed their way under the waistband of your pants. “We’re finishing this conversation.”
“Later, darling.” He pushed them down an inch and pressed his mouth to your hip. “Let us at least enjoy my biology for a little while.”
“Loki.” The air crackled, seidr whispering across your skin where the two of you connected as he considered testing your resolve. You felt the phantom impression of hands around your wrists, which you shook off with a glare. “Down.”
His lip curled in displeasure but he obeyed, sitting back on his heels. “It’s infuriating. Let’s just pretend it’s not happening.”
You joined him on the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest. “What does it mean to… ‘mate’?”
Loki’s shoulders rounded and bowed; he tilted his face away from you, hiding his expression behind a wall of thick, black hair. “You just… are. You’re partners for life. A family. I’m not sure there are words in any mortal language to explain the breadth of it.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “It seems my biology has decided that you’re a good match for… that.”
“Loki…”
“I love you.” He said it so plainly, as if he was commenting on the weather. Your heartbeat turned hot and dizzy as you watched his long fingers trace the floorboard, his words rattling around in the space between your ears – I love you, I love you, I love– “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re wearing my ring, and my knives, and my clothes. You smell like me–”
“Wait–”
“I built you a nest. I’m not human. Your priorities are in desperate need of reassessment if that’s the part you’re uncomfortable with.” Loki rolled his eyes, that bit of familiar petulance peeking through his foul mood. “Anyway. It makes sense that my body would choose you. That I would… would want to convince you...”
“You know you don’t have to convince me.”
Loki picked at a knot in the wood, a loathsome smile curling the corners of his mouth. “Oh, but I do.”
You couldn’t bear the distance any longer; you crawled the last couple of feet to wrap your arms around his chest. He tipped into you, pressing his cheek against your shoulder and drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. Yet, despite his pain, a part of you sang as you stroked a line down his cheek. You were loved and in love – what greater joy was there than that?
Not for the first time in your relationship, guilt welled up in your chest. Being in love with Loki felt a little like learning a new language; he was so capricious, so aloof, that you sometimes felt like you were left out of a joke when he teased you, or flirted, or sidled up to touch you. It often wasn’t until afterward that you became aware of the fact that he was being sincere, that his teasing was earnestness wrapped up in a barbed tongue. 
His fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt. You might not have always understood his advances, but you would try to. For him, you would always try.
“Is there some sort of ritual involved? Do I have to cover myself in runes or something?”
He shook his head against your chest. “I think it just… happens. I’m not sure. There are very few intricacies about frost giant habits with which I’m familiar. But based on how my body is responding, I would assume it boils down to ravishing you on every surface available to me.”
You hummed. “And what will happen if we ignore it?”
Loki, turned mute by anxiety, drew a line down your arm with his knuckle. Finally, he mumbled, “I’ll be fine. I’ll just be very… sad. For the next few days.”
“Sad?”
“I know logically that you’re not, but it feels… Like you’re rejecting me.” 
“And how do you want me to respond?”
He sneered again and ducked his head, dragging a hand over his face frustratedly. “I want you to bare your throat to me.”
You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up inside of you. “What?”
The glare Loki shot you was bitterly cold. “Do not pretend that you misheard me.”
“No, no, Loki,” you reached out and twined your fingers together. “I mean, surely there’s more than that, right? You want me to do the same things for you? To- to nest? I’m not going to hunt a stag or something for you but I can definitely, like, go to the butcher and get you a prize cut.”
Loki shook his head. “I just want you to accept. To accept me .”
“And the throat…?”
“I can’t stop thinking about it.”
You ran your finger along the edge of your t-shirt, where it sat snugly against your collarbone, and watched his pupils dilate. Wordlessly you tugged on his hand, drawing it up to your neck, and placed it there loosely. “That’s it?”
His hand tightened, fingernails catching ever so gently against your skin. “You heard the part where I said that frost giants mate for life, yes?”
You nodded. “Mhmm.”
As if possessed, Loki leaned forward to nose at your pulse point. “So you understand that this… this is forever.”
“And ever and ever?”
“Brat.” His teeth scraped across your skin. “I’ve grown tired of this one-sided vulnerability. I believe you promised me a secret, pet.”
“I did.” You took a deep breath. “I love you, too.”
His fingers stilled around your throat. He seemed to not even breathe as he considered your confession. With a calculated effort, Loki peeled his hands off your neck and his voice, deep and rumbling with restraint, cut through the silence. “You should run.”
You blinked. “What?”
“Unless you want me to fuck you here on this cold, hard floor, I suggest that you run back to that pretty little nest I made you.”
A hot flush washed over you, starting in your cheeks and pooling in the pit of your belly. Loki leaned forward and sweetly kissed your collarbone, then reached up and tore your t-shirt down the middle.
“Loki!”
He smiled against your cheek. “I wasn’t joking, my love.” He sat back on his haunches and folded his hands in his lap, his gaze simmering with something molten hot. Though he moved slowly, projecting a characteristic aloofness, you could see the tendons in his neck straining as he worked against instinct to hold still. He grinned, all teeth, and jerked his chin toward his bedroom. “Run.”
You scrambled to your feet. The hardwood was slippery under your socks. You took a couple tentative steps backwards, watching the way Loki’s eyes raked over you like a butcher pulled pork. Your skin buzzed under his gaze as if you were standing under a powerline, electrified by a well of energy crackling overhead. 
His control was crumbling by the second. The faucet was leaking– Tony had promised he’d have someone over within the week to fix it – and the water beading on its edge began to sizzle and pop, blinking out of existence in green bursts. The microwave display went black as Loki’s seidr overwhelmed the kitchen’s circuit breaker; the hum of the refrigerator died with it, plunging the room into an unnatural silence, so heavy that you could hear your own breath catching in your chest. Loki shifted his weight to his knees.
Your heart thrilled.
You broke in unison; you started to run at the same time that Loki sprang to his feet. A laugh bubbled up out of your chest; you reached out with your mind and swept the cushions off the couch, pelting Loki with them before he could reach you. He swore, and a tongue of emerald light crackled at your ankles, nearly tripping you. You stumbled but managed to make it over the threshold of his bedroom door. Something collided heavily with the wall behind you, followed by the sound of debris coming loose and littering the floor.
You landed with a bounce in the center of the bed, sending a cascade of pillows tumbling to the ground. Loki appeared moments later, breathing heavily and bracketing the door with his arms. He must have tripped during the chase; dust and bits of drywall covered his left arm. His irises had disappeared, carved to mere slivers by his blown pupils. Your breath caught in your chest when you noticed the line of his cock, hard and wanting, straining against his pants.
You shrugged out of your ruined shirt while Loki stalked across the small bedroom, still dressed for battle. He swatted a discarded pillow out of the air when you used your powers to raise it, then shredded another one in an eruption of light and feathers when you tried to catch him from behind. A low purr rumbled through him, melting into the hum of his seidr as it thrummed through the air.
Sensing he would tear through every scrap of fabric you managed to throw up between yourselves, you yielded slowly, tipping your chin back, drawing his attention to your throat.
Loki’s body hit the bed with a muffled thump. He crawled up the length of you on shaky limbs, pressing a grateful, sloppy kiss to your mouth before moving down to your pulse point. Burying his face there, Loki dropped his full weight on top of you. “You really should not indulge me. I might never let you leave.”
“I’ve always been terrible at saying no to you.”
He laved at a spot on your neck. His hips pinned yours against the mattress, shifting against you aimlessly as his arousal heightened. Experimentally, you pressed your leg into him; a groan tumbled from his mouth before he closed one hand around your thigh and rutted up a little more purposefully. “Love. My little love.”
Loki pushed up to his knees and pulled on the strap holding his breastplate in place. You sat up on one elbow and pinched your bra clasp with the other hand. It had only just come undone when Loki worked his hands under the band and tugged it off of you roughly. You tsked in retaliation, then pulled his armour over his head. Just as soon as it hit the floor, Loki was crawling backwards, sliding his hands down your thighs with a heavy reverence.
Your pyjama pants joined the scattered mix of armour and plainclothes on the floor. Now that you were completely bare, Loki slunk up to admire you, leaving a wet trail of kisses over your body until he reached the thin skin over your pulse. One of his hands pushed your knees apart to draw featherlight circles across your inner thighs. 
You tugged on his hair, trying to convince him to lean up and kiss you properly. Loki grumbled but did not concede; his left hand slipped from between your legs and took your wrist, jamming it against the headboard before returning to run circles around your clit. When you pulled, you found your arm immobilized; a tangle of green light pinned it in place above your head.
“Rude,” you gasped. Loki smiled against your neck, dragging his chin through a trail of his own spit.
“Evil,” he agreed.
“Can you at least- at least take your pants off?”
The air shifted; when you glanced down, you were pleased to find that Loki had magically done away with the rest of his clothing, giving you an unobstructed view of his lithe body. You hummed, satisfied, and slid your free hand down his back to palm his ass.
Loki lazily drew his middle two fingers up and down your slit, toying with you in a display of casual dominance. Occasionally he would dip into you, pressing only far enough to leave you wanting before retreating to trace an intricate pattern of knots between your thighs. Despite the hard weight of him, nestled in the cradle of your hips and burning hot with desire, he seemed determined to take his time tangling with you. You rocked your hips, seeking some sort of pressure or friction, and were met with a haughty grin against your breast instead.
You babbled. You begged. The fingers between your thighs patronized you, pressing but never breaching, circling but never stroking. 
Finally, though you suspected it was due to his own neediness and not the way you were pleading, he raised his head to kiss you, sliding his tongue, hot and possessive, over yours. Between the teasing pressure at your cunt and the burning weight of his cock against your hip, a desperation paced in the space between your ribs that left you aching, left you wanting. You tugged a little more firmly at your restraint. When that didn’t budge, you worked your free hand under him to run your fingers up and down the underside of his cock.
The bedside lamp buzzed and flared. Loki nipped at your bottom lip. “I’ll take away your other hand if I have to.”
And yet, despite his warning, Loki slid his fingers inside of you, a little deeper, curling slightly, and pressed at that soft spot you needed him to touch. A smug curl of delight rose in your belly, that you could make him so docile with a touch. You closed your hand around his cock and pumped him slowly, testing your sway. 
“Pet,” he pleaded. “Just let me take my time with you.”
You bit back a sigh when he sat up, blinking wide cow-eyes down at you with an expression bordering on insecurity. “Please, Loki. My love.”
He choked out a whine. His eyes shut tightly for a heartbeat, eyebrows creased deeply in the middle. Your hand slipped free from the headboard – victory – but before you could really enjoy your freedom, Loki flipped you over on all fours.
“If all it took to domesticate you was a four letter word, I would have said something sooner.” One of his hands came down in a warning tap against the side of your thigh. You gasped out a laugh, turning your cheek to catch a glimpse of him. His fingers were splayed over his eyes, partially obscured by his wild hair, and his mouth had turned up in a grin, his usual cool demeanour betrayed by a giddy kind of anticipation. You pressed back against him. “Is this the part where you fuck me?”
He tugged you upwards, manhandling you onto your knees in front of him. You felt his chest mould to your back as he shuffled closer to slot his cock between your thighs, tauntingly, sliding through slick, heated skin, his cockhead bumping against your clit with every pass when his hips met the plush of your ass. “Oh, I’m not going to fuck you, darling.” 
You reached between your legs to guide him inside you, but Loki snatched your hand by the wrist and held it there, so his cock glided just along your fingertips, occasionally catching at your entrance only to pull away at the last second.
“I’m going to lay claim to you. I’m going to breed you,” he panted against the shell of your ear. Your thighs clenched tight when Loki pressed the heel of your hand against the lip of your mound, applying pressure to your aching clit. “I’m going to ply you until you are limp and then I’m going to fill you until you are dripping, understand? I’m going to mark you so thoroughly that you will never be rid of me.”
He pressed even harder, rolling your hand by the wrist. His eyelashes brushed the heated skin of your cheek as he pressed his face to yours, drinking in the closeness of your body. “And when all is said and we’re sated, I’ll make love to you. And that’s a promise.”
Your eyes squeezed shut. You whimpered, your back arching into him while he worked you higher and higher. Loki murmured praise against your skin. “Okay?”
You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
He smiled against your shoulder. “Excellent.”
One of his arms hooked under your breasts, holding you up and flush against his chest. The other tilted your hips back, so you were nearly sat in his lap.
“Can you…” Loki huffed out a laugh against your skin. In a small voice he asked, “Tell me you love me again?”
There was no universe where you could deny him that. “I love you. Loki, I love you. Loki–”
Your eyes squeezed shut as he fed you his cock, inch by delicious inch, until you were fully seated against him. He swore, then growled out another stuttering laugh. A hot breath washed over the shell of your ear as he tucked his chin against your shoulder, and an experimental roll of his hips had you jolting in his arms, your toes curling when he slid over that spongy, sensitive spot inside of you.
“God,” you gasped.
He hummed in agreement, slipping his free hand between your legs to apply a firm pressure to your clit. His head rolled against your shoulder as he started a slow, teasing pace. “Pretty thing,” he cooed.
You felt his eyebrows furrow against your back. His mouth dropped open, panting hot air across your shoulder blades. Your hands shook, fisting in the bedsheets; you felt tears well behind your eyes as sensations overwhelmed you, a bit of pleasure and a bit of pain. You choked out a moan, a gasp, his name cut short.
“Loki. Please. I can’t.”
“You can,” he said against your shoulder. The hand between your legs grew a little desperate, sliding in tight circles while the rest of him worked you at his mercy up and down his cock. “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you? My pretty little mate,” he continued. “You are, I know you are. You’re going to come for me, and then you’re going to take what I have to give you. You’re going to let your mate fill that little cunt of yours and you’re going to be grateful, hmm?”
You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut. You were teetering on the edge of a knife, a knot in your belly drawn tight but threatening to unravel at any moment. A gasp tore from your chest when Loki changed angles, pulling you down with more force while leveraging his body weight to thrust into your harder. Your head tipped back onto his shoulder and you squealed, one hand flying behind you to anchor yourself against his hip.
“Yes,” Loki gasped. “Yes, that’s it darling.”
Relief washed over you for a heartbeat, a small coil shattered as Loki worked himself into you. You rocked back against him, writhing in his iron grip. The pressure on your clit eased away for a moment before doubling down, his middle two fingers burning molten pleasure in their wake as seidr sparked over your skin from his fingertips. Chasing relief in your body, he mouthed at your shoulder a little mindlessly. Your name tumbled from his lips, a plea, for what you weren’t sure.
Small sounds were punched out of your chest with every thrust, growing in volume as he went on and your body buzzed with overstimulation.
“Please,” you begged. One of your hands curled around his forearm, gripping him tightly, while the other fisted in one of the long-forgotten pillows. “Please. Please, Loki.”
Your legs clamped shut when your orgasm finally crested. Loki swore, tumbling, stuttering to his own edge before plummeting; he tugged you down and held you there, spilling inside you with a shaky groan.
Finally, he lifted you off his lap and slid out of you. You tried to turn over in his arms, but he tipped the two of you onto your sides and held you in an iron grip against his chest. He mumbled something foreign in your ear, intercut by the occasional sigh or a press of his mouth to your sweat-slick skin.
You tried again to turn around but Loki held you still. “Give me a minute,” he panted.
You squirmed. “But I want to kiss you.”
Loki leaned over your shoulder and kissed you, his eyes squeezed shut. Hardly satisfied, you tried to hold him in place, but your exhausted limbs were no match for him; he slunk back out of sight only a moment later.
“Loki,” you whined. His arms tightened.
“I’m not… myself right now.”
Slowly, you rolled over in his arms to face him and soothed your hands up his chest. An attractive flush coloured his pale skin, spreading from the top of his stomach to the highest points of his cheeks. You picked a flake of drywall out of his hair. 
His eyes were downcast, shuttered and turned away so you couldn’t see into them. “I don’t want to frighten you,” he mumbled.
You tilted his face up; his eyes had changed, the irises gone red. They weren’t quite gemstones, or cherries, or robins or cardinals. The same red as poppies, maybe. Startling against his pale skin, framed by thick, dark lashes, but so deeply endearing, swimming with emotion as they flickered back and forth over your face.
You must have been quiet too long; Loki huffed and buried his face in his pillow.
“No, wait,” you said. “Come back. Let me look at you.”
“No. I can’t bear it.”
“Stop being dramatic. Let me look at my pretty boyfriend.”
“Your pretty boyfriend is out of commission, I’m afraid.” His voice was muffled. He patted the bed until he found the comforter, which he then pulled over his head petulantly. “He can’t seem to control himself right now. He’ll come out later.”
You wormed your hands under the blanket and pulled it back from his face. Loki sighed and peered up at you from behind his pillow, his eyes barely open to slits to glare at you. You pushed a curl off his forehead, followed by a dry kiss to his cheek. “You know your eyes change colour all the time, right?”
“But the green is handsome. Intimidating,” he grumbled. “This is…”
“Gorgeous.”
“Horrifying,” he countered.
You pouted. “That’s my mate you’re talking about.”
That seemed to break the spell he’d fallen under. You felt the gentle brush of his fingers first, then the smooth slide of his hand down your side to hook around your hip. He drew you into his chest so he could press a sweet kiss to your shoulder. “Hi.”
You returned his smile. “Hi.”
“You’re really not afraid?”
You pushed a stray pillow off the bed, trying and failing to extricate one of the blankets to drape over your bodies. Loki had been right about one thing - it was freakishly cold this week, and the chill was beginning to needle your sweat-damp skin unpleasantly. “Honestly, I’m more worried about the food in your freezer going bad. You blew a fuse in there.”
“Midgardians. You have no sense of self-preservation.” Loki reached out to help tuck you in. 
“Mhm… Coming from the guy whose favourite schtick is ‘pretend to grovel until you think up a better plan’.”
“That is, by definition, self-preserving.”
“Whatever. You blew a fuse. And maybe fixed the leak?”
“I also punched a hole through the wall.”
“Tony is gonna be so mad at you.” You scraped your fingernails across Loki’s scalp, drawing a deep rumble from his chest. “Ok, five more minutes and then we need to get cleaned up.”
“I think you’re mistaken, pet. We’re not leaving this bed for the rest of the week.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not risking a UTI for that.”
Loki groaned. He pulled his mouth from your neck just long enough to kiss you. “Fine. Shower?”
“Yes, but we’re just showering. I don’t want to get waterboarded like last time.”
“Of course, darling. Not in the shower.” He kissed you again, slowly this time, coaxing your lips apart with a thumb on your jaw. When he finally pulled away it was with a hiss and a sticky, wet sound. “Although I do intend to bend you over the sink so you can watch yourself fall apart first.”
“Oh?”
His red eyes found yours. They narrowed, sparkling with mirth, as he gathered you up in his arms. “Tell me again,” he purred, “how much you love me. I might just have mercy.”
You did.
He didn’t.
Not that you minded.
918 notes · View notes
gay-dorito-dust · 5 months ago
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Howdy howdy I hope your day is going well :D
I was wondering if you could write smth about reader wearing Ford’s sweater for the first time and his reaction to it? 👀👀
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Ford has to do a double take to make sure that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, and that you were actually wearing his red turtleneck, the very turtleneck he spent all morning looking for before resorting to wearing his black one.
It suited you perfectly, shows your beautiful curves deliciously, not that he was looking of course! He’s just appreciating the art that was you! Was that such a sin?! He’s not use to the sight of someone else wearing his clothes and now that he has you doing so, he felt as though he had walked into a locked away dream on his as he couldn’t tear his eyes off of you.
Now Ford understood that with the weather getting chiller by the day that you were bound to start looking for warmer clothes to combat the cold, but -and this is when logic fails him- did you really not own any warmer clothing of your own that you had been resorted to go and steal clothes from him instead?
Ford has to fight some thoughts away that made him imagine you in others clothes of his as the sight of you in them had slowly become his favourite thing to lay his eyes on. Bless his nerdy heart for it was about to give out any time soon, but he felt his ego being stroked that out of everyone’s clothes you chose to steal from, even Stan’s, you stole from him specifically. His clothes and his clothes alone did you think were worth the honour of adorning your body perfectly and cosily.
Thoughts like this only made Ford’s blush worsen and you were worried that you had gone too far as you were quick to sit the poor man down and hold his face between your hands.
‘Ford are you okay sweetie?’ You’d ask.
‘You’re wearing my turtleneck. He’d reply.
‘Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t have anything to-‘
‘Don’t apologise my dear, you look perfect as per usual.’ He then stops you by holding onto your waist, thumbs stroking soothingly as though he was the one calming you instead of the opposite.
You smiled softly. ‘That’s sweet of you Ford but if you don’t want me to wear your turtleneck anymore, then I won’t.’
Ford frowned. ‘And why would I say such a thing? You can borrow my turtleneck as often as you want if it’s what you desire,’ he then coughs awkwardly and looks away from you as his blush deepens, ‘besides I like the way you look in it, if that’s not too forward of me to admit.’ He adds and you couldn’t help but kiss the man on his lips as you rested your forehead against his own.
‘Not at all, that was really lovely of you, I might just steal this cuteness more often if time means getting a repeat of this exact reaction.’ You chuckled, liking the emotions you were pulling from him with ease.
‘Please do,’ he thought to himself shamelessly as he now knows what he wanted to see everyday when he walked up, you in his clothes, it’ll be his personal serotonin booster!
Slight nsfw: However He seriously hopes you’re wearing something under the turtleneck, sleep shorts or otherwise as he stares at your bare, beautiful legs that stick out from the turtleneck as he kept his hands above your waist out of respect for you. (This senior citizen is making me feral I fear, let me wear his turtleneck with nothing on underneath for the lore, it’ll be worth it-)
Needless to say that after this instance Ford will leave his turtleneck in places for you to know that he wants to see you in it more often.
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mrpenguinpants · 5 months ago
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You are all I long for, all I worship, and adore.
— It's strange seeing your future selves being so close when you thought you both hated each other guts.
— Jing Yuan, Dan Feng (& Dan Heng) + Sunday
[Masterlist]
Suspend your disbelief for the timeline of lore, please.
Update: When I originally wrote this, I wanted to do an entire "Fly Me to the Moon," series of fics based on time travel. Hence the title. Shout-out to that one person who was waiting for me to write Sunday. I didn't, but I see you. It will happen soon.
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Jing Yuan
This is the worst. The absolute worst thing ever. In the entirety of your living long life, this is the absolute worst moment so far. Were all the good times leading up to this moment? Did the Aeon's have some sick agenda, or were you randomly selected to be messed with today? If you had the option of eating literal trash bags for the rest of your life or continuing to live in this moment, you'd rather chew your own arms off. Maybe if you start now, you can save your future self the pain and humiliation of succumbing to...whatever this is.
"Aw, you were so cute when you were younger,” you - at least you think it’s you. This stranger wears the same face as you although a bit older. Perhaps alien would be a more fitting name? - this stranger coos as they cup Jing Yuan's face in their hands. Pinching cheeks with barely any fat on them with the sweetest smile you never knew you could even make. Jing Yuan, one of the seven Arbiter-Generals of the Xianzhou Alliance's Cloud Knights who stared down an actual Lord Ravager, looks two seconds away from bolting like a scared cat. He hasn’t moved an inch since this started and honestly, as mortifying as this is, it’s way worse for him than it is for you. So naturally, you’re turning a blind eye and holding Yangqing hostage from saving his precious general of sweet words and praises.
”I see we didn’t get along at this point in time,” a deep voice muses above you from a man you’re very blatantly pretending to ignore. An older Jing Yuan stands beside you, amused at his younger self having a barely contained stroke. If it wasn't bad enough that a future version of yourself suddenly appeared, Jing Yuan just had to follow. Always a nuisance no matter his age. Maybe if you hold your breath, you’ll pass out and everything will blow over. It sounds less painful than trying to eat yourself from the outside in any way. Before you can start, a hand, heavy yet somehow gentle, is placed on your shoulder. “I don’t recommend trying to self-induce a suffocation. Nor attempt any cannibalism on the self either.”
Okay. That’s creepy. Do senior citizens suddenly gain mind-reading powers? You’ve heard the story that if a man stays a virgin until he’s 30, he'll become a wizard. You let out a huff of amusement at that thought, maybe that’s what’s happening. That amusement gets cut short when you realize that somehow, you fell for this 30-year-old virgin. You refuse to accept that out of spite. That story was meant for short-life species anyway.
“For all intensive purposes, I’m choosing to believe this is a nightmare and the first step to waking up from one is to induce pain,” you answer blandly, your grip on Yanqing finally waning as the boy sprints in for the rescue. Only to get swept up in the storm as your other self switches her attention to the kid. Sticky fingers and starry eyes have Yanqing disarmed before he can even lift a finger to summon his ice sword, falling prey to the musing of a Xianzhou auntie. Nevertheless, Yanqing does his job correctly because it allows Jing Yuan to finally escape as he stumbles over to you and his other self.
"How far the mighty have fallen," you snicker behind your hand at how ruffled Jing Yuan looks. His hair is a bit fluffy from how many times your future self ran their hands through it, and his cheeks are a bit pink. Probably from all the pinching. There's even a deep chuckle next to you to accompany your words as Jing Yuan coughs into his fist before straightening up properly. You can see Yanqing being given sweets behind his back and that alone buys the kids complacency.
"My apologies for that," Jing Yuan says as the older Jing Yuan simply laughs in response. Unserious and unfretted in everything.
Huh, now that you look closer. He has laugh lines.
"It is I that should apologize. We have disturbed your schedule with our, ahem, compliments," Other Jing Yuan chuckles once again, as if the fact that he has time traveled into the past was a small "disturbance". Aeons, you hate this guy in every form.
They go back and forth, talking in that faux politeness that never truly goes anywhere before you finally had enough of this. You're not sticking around for this tea-time pleasantries any longer than you need to. It's the exact reason why you left your position as the "Divine Foresight Counselor" and passed it off to Qingzu as soon as you could. Unfortunately, you're going up against two Jing Yuan's, so the moment you shift your shoe to take a step back to remove yourself from the conversation, two pairs of golden eyes snap to you. One is smiling, the other is frowning.
"Heading off?"
"Where are you going?"
You look between the two, older and younger, and you can feel your head beginning to hurt. You let out a sigh, rubbing your forehead, before ultimately picking the lesser of two evils. If you have to look into those love-stricken soft eyes one more time, you might actually pass away.
"Out. You don't need me here anymore do you, General? Or do I require your dismissal now?" you ask bluntly, turning to the Jing Yuan you're used to. The one who's supposed to be in this timeline. "If you need anything, I'm sure Diviner Fu would love to be of assistance."
You don't bother to wait for Jing Yuan to say anything, pivoting on your heel and marching out of the Exalting Sanctum. You glance at your other self, a bitter feeling rising in your chest when they look at you disapprovingly. You can tell they want to say something but one brief look to the side, where the two Jing Yuans stand, and they close their mouth and turn around. Regardless, there's no reason for you to stick around longer. As long as the time travelers stay within the exalting sanctum, no one will know they ever appeared in the first place.
As you near the exiting doors, nodding to the guards on each side, you spare one last glance back. Your sudden departure hasn't halted anything and Jing Yuan is speaking to both his other self and you. Yanqing huddles close, one of his hands in your other self's hand, as he tries his best to participate in the discussion. Realistically, you should set aside your petty pride and march back to help. Do something other than running away and letting everyone else pick up the pieces for you. But the doors are already open and you need a sweet drink desperately.
There's been a growing sour taste on your tongue every time your Jing Yuan stares longingly at the other you.
Dan Feng
There isn't a single word to describe the situation you're in right now. Strange? Uncanny? Just super weird? You've seen and done a lot of weird things in your long life, but this is the absolute weirdest thing that has ever happened to you - and you've seen a star collapse before.
“If you keep making that expression, it’ll stick on your face,” Jing Yuan muffles his laugh under his hand, keeping up with your brisk pace as you not-so-subtly run away from the situation thrust into your hands. A tactical retreat you call it. You give Jing Yuan a pained grimace for a brief second before focusing straight ahead again.
“Jing Yuan, I will make sure your promotion to General is riddled with paperwork,” you say straight-faced. He knows you’re lying, you adore your pseudo-nephew too much to do that to him, but it does make him jolt and respectfully keep his mouth shut. However, in exchange, it makes the third pair of footsteps all the more louder. The source of your current predicament and Jing Yuan's amusement. You peer over your shoulder at the young man just to make absolutely sure that you're not hallucinating. A tall, slender young man with blue eyes, fair skin, and black hair stares right back at you before quickly averting his gaze back to the ground. Even with his unique coat and clothing, he has the splitting image of that old lizard. Even though this stranger is younger...and without a stick up his ass either.
He said his name was Dan Heng. A "traveling guard" for the renowned Astral Express. He had sworn on his life that he was telling the truth but that didn't change the fact of who he looked like. If Jing Yuan hadn't been there to vouch for him, then you would have attempted to throw him off the Luofu yourself. According to Jing Yuan, he found the young man "asleep" under one of the ginkgo trees, but otherwise wasn't doing any harm to anyone. He had just appeared with no way to return to where he came from.
At least you have one thing in common: you both don’t want to be here.
"So, are you a distant relative? Is this your first time visiting the Luofu? Oh! Are you here to visit him for vidyadhara business?" Jing Yuan spitballs one question after the other, his barely contained excitement shining through. He had slowed his pace to walk side-by-side with Dan Heng, illustrating the differences between them. Jing Yuan barely reaches Dan Heng's waist, the standard cloud knight uniform looking plain compared to the other's elaborate coat. Teal clashing with blue. Although, they match in their one red accessory flapping in the wind.
Dan Heng awkwardly coughs into his hand, before giving Jing Yuan a rather embarrassed look, "I don't think it'd be wise for me to say anything. If you have any questions, you should ask my teacher..."
Dan Heng shoots you a look as he says the word 'teacher', to which you raise an eyebrow right back. You've never seen this specific man in your life, let alone taken on any students. You don't even like kids that much unless their name is Jing Yuan and even, he isn't fully nestled in your heart. But that's another weird thing about this whole situation. This mysterious "teacher" apparently came along for the ride, yet the man won't spare a single detail about them. Vague descriptions that could be for anyone but wouldn't be a definite confirmation. All in all, it's been a headache and not something you wished to do on a bright and sunny morning. It's frankly out of your pay grade to be babysitting wandering travelers, even if they look like the High Elder.
“We’re here,” you call out, abruptly stopping your near sprint as you feel two bodies collide into your back. One has the decency to step back with an apology while the other clings to your arm as he peers around your waist.
"The forge?" Jing Yuan questions, tilting his head almost fully sideways as the three of you look up at the unassuming blacksmith shop.
"Yep, we're visiting the only adult of the group. Come on, Yingxing should still be inside," you say eyes forward but your arm reaches behind you to hold onto the retreating body of Dan Heng, who has been quietly trying to step away as soon as you confirmed just where you were. Jokes on him, you're the master of running away from your problems- retreating. You're the master at tactical retreating.
Although it’s muffled, you can hear some commotion going on inside. Maybe an unruly customer who didn’t read the fine print and is now venting their frustration? You share a look of confusion with Jing Yuan as you strong-arm Dan Heng into coming inside.
Entering the store, it looks relatively normal? There's nothing out of place or anything to show there was a scuffle, but the argument is getting louder sounding from the back of the store, into the forge. Which is strange for two reasons. Firstly, Yingxing may not be a dragon but he guards the forge with his life. Secondly, the only other people allowed in aren't even in the area. A mutual understanding passes through the three of you, Dan Heng finally giving up on trying to escape with the death grip you have on his arm, and you all tip-toe to the back door. Jing Yuan being the smallest reaches the door first, his head peeking out, your head above his as you squint into the room, and Dan Heng above yours with a look of defeat.
“You selfish old lizard! I’d outta cut your tail off right now for all the trouble you caused you senile son of a-“
"Please calm down, this is still the High Elder you're speaking to!"
What you see is something you'd never expect to see, and you need to reiterate that you've seen a literal star collapse. An older version of you is being held back by Yingxing as they throw threats and cusses at Dan Feng, who looks relatively unbothered by the promises to maim him.
“Teacher!”
Dan Heng, who has kept the most monotone voice imaginable since meeting him, suddenly pushes himself forward. A small "ah!" comes from Jing Yuan as he flops onto the floor from the sudden movement. A spear you've definitely seen before materializes in his hand as he goes to swing at Yingxing, only to be parried away by an identical spear. If you thought the tension between your first meeting with Dan Heng was rough, this feels like the Aeons themselves are fighting against each other. Yingxing and the other you have gone slack in surprise as two vidyadhara's who share the same face are kept at a standstill. Two cloud piercers pointed at each other, poised and ready to strike again, the air growing more humid with sticky beads of water vapor suspended in the air. Well, if you had any doubts about Dan Heng looking way too similar to Dan Feng, this pretty much confirms it. They're the same person.
Your eyes slide to the other you.
A falling star has nothing on this.
Sunday
There's something off about this entire situation, and there are enough oddities to begin with, but there's just something that doesn't sit right with you. Was there such a thing as a second puberty? Is that what a "mid-life" crisis was? Aren't you supposed to dye your hair and buy a sports car when that happens? Because the person walking next to you is certainly not you. They're too...peppy.
When you first saw the "future you", you had assumed they were a figment of someone's imagination. A dream perhaps? In Penacony, it would definitely be possible, but who would want to dream of you? The other you didn't seem that weird either, just a bit older and more well-mannered, but otherwise exactly the same. They had greeted you cheerfully, even coming up to shake your hand because "it was the polite thing to do when greeting friends.". You didn't know how to react to that wording so you brushed it aside. Maybe in the future, you're some big shot? That's kind of exciting to imagine.
"So...any idea how you got here?" you ask, turning to the other you. It's kind of funny that you're escorting yourself but you doubt the future you remember's the winding pathways the Bloodhounds take to the main base. Although your boss is quite nonchalant, Gallagher has always had a steady head on his shoulders. If you can't figure out a way to fix this time travel business, he can at least play damage control.
"I'm not entirely sure. I was about to set out to welcome some new friends on behalf of my husband, and then I was suddenly here. Oh, I hope he isn't upset with me for disappearing," your other self hums, a hand on their cheek, before quickly jolting up, "Ah, I guess I should say our husband now."
You let out an awkward laugh to match their giggle. Although your future self doesn't look that much older than you, it seems you managed to get hitched with someone great. They always seem to slip the word "husband" into every sentence, heck- you're making new friends because of him. Your mother would weep tears of joy learning that fact. Although it does make you curious just who your supposed husband is. The only man you see more than once in your life is Gallagher, and respectfully, he's not your type. But then who else? Perhaps one of the patrons? You've heard the news that the IPC sent a handsome gambler with beautiful eyes. Perhaps that's who you've fallen in love with? You don't want to ask because you don't want to mess up the timeline and frankly, you don't want to ruin the surprise. To be honest, even though you never thought about marriage, it kinda makes you giddy knowing that in the future, you seem to love your husband so much. A bit too much but it's probably the honeymoon phase train never stopping.
You still can't help but shake the feeling that something is horribly wrong.
There's just the slightest sinister curl in their smile. As if they're secretly laughing at the expense of everyone while keeping on an angelic facade. It's unsettling and makes chills down go your spine when it's your face that does it. The only time you've felt this sense of unease was when you accidentally stumbled into Gallagher's private meeting with the Head of the Oak Family. The Halovian had simply smiled, inquiring who you were and holding his hand out for you to shake. Your fingers had just brushed against his white glove when Gallagher stepped in, gripping your wrist hard enough for bruises, and forcibly pushed you out the door.
"Someone not important."
That's what your boss had said. You thought he spoke so harshly because he was pissed at you for possibly giving the Oak Family a bad first impression. He pretended it never happened and you never brought it up, afraid he might fire you from your job.
"I don't mean to pry, but are you alright?"
You blink, shaken out of your thoughts by your future self's question. They smile at you kindly, a slight tilt to their head as they wait for you to answer patiently.
"Oh! Sorry, I kinda spaced out there for a bit..." You let out an awkward laugh. Your voice sounds weak even to you, but the other you just nods in understanding. Perhaps it's because it's technically you that you're talking to, or that feeling of foreboding, that you feel like you need to explain yourself, "I guess I haven't been sleeping well. Gallagher has me running errands on the other side of Penacony in preparation for the Charmony Festival. Between you and me, I think he's dumping his errands on me so he can slack off."
Your lighthearted chuckle tapers off when the other you doesn't respond in kind to your joke. In fact, bringing up Gallagher's name has completely cleared their face from that prim and proper mask. Leaving behind a blank expression with disinterested eyes before a blink, and there's that same smile smeared on.
"You speak rather fondly of him. It seems I'm farther into the past than I originally thought," they mumble to themselves. Although you pick up on the words easily, you double-take just to make absolutely sure those words came from them. Sure, Gallagher isn't the most traditional-looking boss but he's not a bad person. Especially not to you. When you were looking for a job, he was the one to approach you out of the blue to work under him as a Bloodhound. If he never showed up, you would have most likely wasted away as a paper pusher for one of the families. He's always forgiven your mistakes and always offered to escort you home even though you can take care of yourself. So why is your future self so unfriendly to someone you currently hold in high regard?
"Oh uh...did something happen between us and Gallagher? I mean, I always suspected I'd get fired but I don't know, I always thought we got along. I mean, he has been acting a bit weird since that Oak Family Head came around but he's probably just stressed, right? Oh wait- I don't think we should be talking about this. I don't want to start a butterfly effect, especially so close to the festival-" you muse only to get interrupted.
"If I were you, I wouldn't trust that dog so easily," your other self spits with so much venom that you take a step away. Is it possible that you misjudged how close you were with Gallagher? Your other self talks about him as if he had betrayed them on a personal level. This shouldn't be possible because you and Gallagher have a strictly professional relationship. Unless you potentially knew him before you arrived in Penacony? To be fair, your memory gets a bit hazy looking back but you're sure you would remember someone like Gallagher.
"Wha- Hey, I don't know what happened but you shouldn't call him a dog-"
"We're here."
You stop in your tracks. What? We're here? You look up and realize that you've completely walked off the beaten path and happened upon a door. In fact, if you remember correctly, this was the door you stumbled into when you first met that Halovian. When did it become your other self escorting you rather than the other way around? You thought they wouldn't know these back alley pathways anymore.
"Why are we here?" you ask tentatively. Realistically, you know nothing bad will happen to you, at least not physically. You're their past. Whatever happens to you will affect them. A small scrape here will become a scar for them later.
"You haven't been sleeping well correct? I remember when I used to have headaches all the time. But you'll be okay now, he'll make things all better. While it's a bit early, I'm sure you'll understand. You are me after all," they smile sweetly, taking your hand in theirs as they pull you in front of the door.
"Come now, let's go meet our husband. He's been eagerly waiting for you for a long time."
---
Small author's note: I fell into a pit and wrote way too much. If I didn't cut it off, this fic would take another year to finish. That's why there's no real ending, lol.
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otherwindow · 20 days ago
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I want one of them isekai settings where you get put into a fantasy mmorpg, but it's from the pov of a senior citizen transported to the first mmo they played decades ago and the cast are the avatars of their old friends.
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