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woncon · 2 days

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part three: sex on the beach

pairing: poly!stray kids x gn!reader

You only have one fan at home. It's a cruel thing. But the water is for everyone! The lake water is cooling, and you can relax with your boys. You can lay out on the mat, compete in swimming, or even make offers that wouldn't be appropriate for a grandmother swimming nearby to hear. There's a lot going on this day: injuries, bets and a kiss fest. The nine of you brushing the edge of indecency, like waves on the rocks off the shore. It's really wholesome.

genre: mini-series, fluff, suggestive, crack/humor, summer fic, established relationship, polyamory, a day on the beach

warnings: minho finally gets sex on the beach, making out as a problem-solving technique, more kisses, jeongin likes to ask questions today

word count: 5K

a/n: yay! it's done! thanks for @honeytwo for her committed work, and of course, thanks to all of you for reading this summer fic! <3

[part 1] / [part 2]

summer go loco / stray kids mlist

While you were sliding into the water, Hyunjin attacked Chan not far away.

"Ah! Hyunne, no!" spat the older man, gasping. "I'm drowning in your spaghetti hair!"

"Oh, no!" giggled Hyunjin as he swung away with his tines flapping like mops. "If you really want to drown, drown in my love for you!"

Chan made a suffering sound and hid his face in his palms.

"Chan is weak when it comes to compliments," Seungmin stated in a whisper, having been given the humble role of Jeongin's pusher. "He's weak at other times too. Like when I loaded his barbell. He couldn't lift it because he's old."

Jeongin couldn't take it anymore, he asked.

"Do you really have a granddaddy kink?"

"No, I just like to tease Chan. Who told you that?"

“Hyunjin.”

"I'm gonna fuck his gossipy ass."

"You'd have to get him to talk to you first, wouldn't you?"

As if sensing that the conversation was about him - and his butt - Hyunjin glanced towards them. He smiled affectionately at Jeongin, but looked gloomily at Seungmin, and then took his gaze away.

Jeongin patted Seungmin on the shoulder.

"Shall I throw you in the water?"

Jeongin immediately withdrew his hand. "Why?"

"Maybe that would cheer me up." Seungmin made a thoughtful, questioning face.

"I'd rather climb off the mat willingly then." Jeongin did so. When he felt safe, he added, "Asshole."

"Now I'm an asshole?" asked Seungmin, looking shocked. "I wasn't an asshole this morning. Then you called me a-"

"You didn't want to throw me in the water this morning to make yourself feel better." Jeongin was pushing the Monster can again. "Did you learn nothing from what happened between you and Hyunjin hyung?"

"You're right, Innie-ah. It was a stupid idea." He pushed the mattress in the boy's direction. "You can climb back in."

Jeongin grimaced.

"I don't trust you."

"At least let me make it up to you... with a kiss?"

"Isn't the point of atonement to get me something I want?" Jeongin lazily tossed the Monster can into the air, then caught it.

"You don't want my kiss, huh?" The other didn't answer that. Seungmin crept closer to him. "Am I really such a bad kisser that you'd rather throw yourself on the pebbles?" He made a curious face, showing no other emotion.

"It's not about that. I hate it when you come at me in groups."

"And now?" Seungmin bit his lip and swam even closer to him with the mattress like a cargo merman. "We're on our own. Just you and me. Do you want it now?"

Jeongin looked up at the clear blue sky as if the answer was written there.

"Maybe."

"Maybe? What does it take to get the answer to be yes?"

"Answer a simple question."

Seungmin nodded in agreement.

"Are you quite sure you're not interested in grandfathers?"

Seungmin laughed incredulously. And swimming just a short distance away from them was a grandmother and grandfather duo with two grandchildren.

"I swear to you. I like my own age group... And Chan hyung... Okay, maybe I'm interested. But only in Chan hyung."

"Last night for some reason you didn't mention how old he is... When you bit his abs... Several times. And everything."

Seungmin narrowed his eyes. "You said not to talk about last night."

Jeongin shrugged, a small smile hiding at the corner of his mouth.

"Give me my kiss."

"Did I also say you'd get it now?"

"I should have pushed you into the w-"

Jeongin grabbed the back of Seungmin's head, kissed him hard, then let go.

"Here's your kiss."

Then he swam away. Seungmin watched his receding figure. Two canoeists passed him, and even Chan was asking if he was okay when he regained consciousness. "Fuck," he muttered.

Jeongin was not even within earshot, but you and Felix immediately approached him. For the time being, it looked like he would be safe here. Felix had never kissed his face or cooed at him, and you had never cooed at him as often as Hyunjin or Changbin. He obviously didn't know what interesting things were happening while he was chilling with the others. He probably had no idea that there would be a lot of kissing in the middle of the lake. Nor did it occur to him that you were largely planning how to make it the most super day for him.

Right after you met him halfway, Hyunjin arrived in a breaststroke. With a devilish half-smile on his face, by the way. When he spoke, Jeongin's potential security was shattered.

"Innie-ah? Can I ask you something?" Hyunjin leaned his head on the boy's shoulder. "Please don't take off your shirt. If you do, I'll cum right here."

"Oh, my God." Jeongin massaged the bridge of his nose. "Can we please not talk about sex all the time? Just a little?"

"We're sexually frustrated adults. Most of us are half naked and flirting. What did you expect?" asked Felix.

Jeongin mumbled something under his breath.

"Oh, Innie," you clung to him affectionately. "Your poor innocent soul... and your poor feet."

"Stop that. I'm not a little child."

"But you are a baby. Our baby." You kissed him all over his cheekbone. Maybe all of you took it a little too seriously when you had the opportunity to bathe Jeongin in love.

"And you need to relax."

"I'm relaxed," he said, as he was like a log in your arms. Or a hot guy in the shape of a blown-up float.

"Come on!" Hyunjin poked his nose. That wasn't the switch on the slackness function, unfortunately. "Last time I saw you smile was when the fan was running."

"And when you groped me," you reported. "If that's what it takes to make you happy, I'm here."

Jeongin's Adam's apple did a wild dance.

"As I just alluded to, I don't want it to be all about sex."

"Sex? Who mentioned sex?" Hyunjin narrowed his eyes, then glanced over at your form. “Was it you?"

"I sure wasn't."

“Felix?”

"I don't even know what the word means."

"Get lost." Jeongin tried to shake you off, but you were like Chan in the morning. A real cuddly koala.

"Come on, Innie. You're living with Minho and you still think groping is exclusively sexual?" Felix ruffled the younger's hair. You were amazed at how eager Jeongin was to indulge in his touch, even while he was droning on and in the middle of a minor argument.

You recalled what you had said to Felix minutes earlier. Maybe there's someone who needs your kiss more than I do. Not exactly your kiss. More like something to cheer him up. When you're with him, he's usually happy.

He didn't need much convincing. He also wanted Jeongin to be happy on this sunny day with his wholesome partners.

"Whatever it is, I don't want to do it. And I don't want to hear about him or Chan's bite marks or Jisung's hip-"

"What was that?" interrupted Hyunjin.

"What was what?"

Your boyfriend grinned. "That's what you were doing with your hand," he pointed out the tiny, grabbing motion, "when you mentioned Sungie's hip."

"I'm sure I didn't," Jeongin denied.

"Three credible witnesses say so."

"Only two," you corrected Hyunjin, still clinging to Jeongin. "I haven't been sane since Lix's mouth touched me."

Felix caressed the back of your neck.

"Two witnesses then. The point is the same. You want all of this. Jisung, Chan, maybe everyone. You want it so bad you're about to explode. All this frustration is not good for you. Not for you, not for us. We're here to have fun, Innie. Why are you resisting?"

"What if he doesn't want to?"

"Who? Sungie? Pff." Hyunjin sneered. "He'd feel like heaven if you got close to him."

"Anyone would feel like that," you added.

"That's stupid."

"No. That's the truth," Felix assured him. He pressed a kiss to Jeongin's temple. "We're starving for you, baby."

"There's a difference between someone saying they want to kiss you and sitting on your lap and actually doing it. They're just words. And you're always messing with me and each other. When can I take it seriously?"

"Naive boy..." mumbled Felix. "We're not messing with you."

"Didn't you know? All offers are deathly serious," Hyunjin continued. "If you say yes, it's yours."

Jeongin really did stiffen in your arms this time. You were thinking of recalling in your mind all the offers he'd received in the last few days, maybe even specifically that day. It must have been quite a lot based on the fact that you had talked a lot about Jeongin, not only in person but virtually, and how much you adored him. You had your private fan club.

"Just think about it, okay?" Hyunjin pressed a soft kiss on the back of Jeongin's head.

You let go, so he could think about what was going on without any extra weight. You didn't expect him not to know the rules of the game. You all thought that he just liked to give you the unattainable, or that he just didn't desire your advances.

All of you swam back to the big mat like a couple of cooling fish, and got caught in the middle of a conversation.

"Your feet hurt, your back hurts," Minho listed to Jisung. "Doesn't your mouth get lonely, jagi? If so, I can help you with that, and I can take your mind off the other two. Just saying."

"Can we do it like they did?" He pointed in your and Felix’s direction.

"Oh, we can do better."

"Wanna bet?" Felix was really sexy as he challenged Minho. And Minho greeted him with a sexy smile. Jisung was sexy too, as he scratched his head and lay on the mattress like he was waiting for his dream make-out session. Everyone was sexy. You saw the world, or more accurately your boyfriends, through overly sexy lenses since Felix's mouth touched yours.

"Let’s bet."

After being flooded with mattress memories, you realized what was happening.

Oh my goodness, how many dishes you've washed and vacuumed dust bunnies for betting with Felix! If you were forced to bet, you'd bet with anyone else, even Hyunjin, who bets in vile values, just not Felix. The guy's a master, and you've learned that the hard way.

"Are you sure, hyung?" asked Hyunjin, putting the pink sunglasses back on, not just resting on the top of his head. "You already lost one today. You want to do two penalties in one day?"

"Don't worry about me, Hyunne. I'm unbeatable at kissing Sungie."

"You're not going to kiss Sungie this time," Felix indicated. "This time you're going to kiss like,” he said your name with an impish smile. “and me. Or so you want to. Can you do that?"

Minho licked his lips.

"What do you give when I do?"

"Okay, okay, stop it." Jeongin stepped between Minho, who was leaning against the mattress, and Felix. "What now? A summer mating battle? I don't know exactly what Felix and they did, but I'm sure it won't be repeated here."

"If you're playing Chan today, what will you give us to stop?" asked Jisung slyly, elbowing up. "Scrambled eggs for breakfast? A cuddle afternoon? Kisses?"

It was pretty clear that Chan was spoiling you.

"I can give kisses. To everyone," Jeongin said. He was tense, judging by the way he was playing with the squashed Monster box. 'First thing you'll do when you get out of here is throw away the metal and replace it with a hand. If you can't use your own, you can use someone else's. "Behind the willow tree on the beach."

Jeongin turned and headed for the stairs.

Silence. Even the seagull raiding the beach fell silent at Jeongin's offer. So did you. You restored Changbin's fallen chin, who then looked at you with sparkling eyes.

"Jeongin offered his mouth. All my dreams have come true."

"Wow," Jisung also acknowledged what had happened. "I need to get to shore as soon as possible. Can you push me out, jagi?"

"Sure," nodded Minho. He quickly forgot about the bet. "As fast as I can, no question."

"Let's go until he changes his mind," Felix nodded as well. "I'll go quickly and tell the others. Will you be alright?"

"Of course," you assured him. "I'll kiss Jeongin so hard that- Hey, Minho! Wait for me! I'm getting on!" The mattress was pushed that day, perhaps never before, with the vehemence that Minho and Changbin were pushing it.

It's a wonder they waited. Or maybe it was just a testament to how much they loved you that they were able to wait for you with the promise of an Innie kiss before them.

The willow tree Jeongin picked was huge. Chan could have fit twice its length behind it. It was shady and hidden from prying eyes. It was a feature that caught the eye of others, because in the grass was a suspicious resemblance to a used condom. Fortunately, when it was your turn to follow Minho and Changbin, you weren't concerned with what was down below.

Jeongin gently pushed you against the trunk of the tree. The rough surface peeked through your towel and pressed against your shoulder, but you didn't give a damn.

"Is that how you want it?" Jeongin hummed at your question. "With ants?"

The boy rested his hand next to your head. This gesture was cringe-worthy in many places. However, this time Jeongin did it. If he was going to do the same to Chan, you hoped the poor guy wouldn't get too dizzy.

"There are none. I just have questions."

"Questions? I thought you had kisses. For me."

"Just take a turn. Questions first, then kisses."

"Fine. What do you want to know?"

"How would you like it? Slow and gentle, like Binnie hyung? Or hard, like Minho hyung? Shall I bite your mouth?"

Oh, fuck.

"Whatever. Just keep your mouth on mine." You traced your fingers over the carotid artery, one of his sensitive spots, and with the same vigor he sucked in air sharply, he leaned in to take your mouth.

It's an established fact that he's got you on the edge. And he kissed you fantastically, just the way you like it. You wouldn't have minded ants dropping on you.

Jeongin gasped out your name in a breathy whimper, eyes clouded with haze. He leaned away from you, when you were in the middle of working to rip off his soaked T-shirt.

"Sorry. I just thought you might catch a cold. Besides, Hyunjin's not here to come in his pants if he sees you half naked."

"Don't bet on it. I think he's always watching." Jeongin grabbed your wrist and untucked it from his shirt. Then he surprised you by reaching back to pull it off himself.

Before you could fall like wow, Innie had just grabbed his shirt off you, his palm sliding down your side and settling on your waist. He gently pulled you to him.

"Happy now?"

You nodded enthusiastically.

You touched his bicep. "May I?"

"You may."

You touched every nook and cranny of his exposed skin. Jeongin watched softly, then nuzzled into your neck.

"You're just like us," you said.

"The most you've ever seen me pinching cheeks is in your dreams," he immediately countered.

"You hunger for intimacy as much as we do. You're just as completely in love. That's what I meant. Am I wrong?"

"You like it when you're right, yes?"

"Who doesn't?"

Jeongin, a confident, grown man, stuck his tongue out at you. You, also an adult, and often recorded as Felix's baby, stuck yours out too and smiled. Of course, when Jeongin wanted to kiss you again, you didn't resist. You pulled him close to you and enjoyed that he wanted you.

Finally, you stumbled out from behind the willow tree with a happy grin. Although it would be more accurate to use the term, dizzy out. You sat down on the blanket opposite the water. Everything about you, even your soul, tingled at Jeongin's nearness. You spread his wet shirt on the grass to dry. Sometimes you tilted your head as if you were looking at a trophy. When someone came close enough to you, you'd show it off.

The next eager volunteer behind the tree was Hyunjin, who spent a few seconds blinking exclusively as Jeongin remained half naked.

"What? Did you cum in your pants?" The younger one leaned against the tree.

"D’you want me to?"

"I want your kiss. Or would you rather have mine?"

"Then I'll kiss you all over." As Hyunjin eagerly stepped closer, Jeongin stepped back.

"That's not a fundamental right, hyung. Especially not today."

"You want me to beg for it?"

"Would you?" Jeongin smiled devilishly. "Would you beg for my kiss?"

"You little demon..." Hyunjin held out his hand in fascination, but the other didn't even let it touch his shoulder.

"Maybe you should beg to touch me first."

Hyunjin licked his lips.

"Please, muse. Let me touch you. That's all I want. Please let me. I promise I'll treat you well, and you'll enjoy it too."

"Close your eyes, hyung, and wait."

Hyunjin obeyed.

From the looks of it, Jeongin had indeed decided to become Chan for a while, taking some of the conflict management upon himself, because while Hyunjin closed his eyes and his full lips were ready to kiss the hell out of Jeongin, Jeongin led Seungmin in on the other side of the willow tree. Then he made him face Hyunjin. Seungmin made a puzzled face, but Jeongin persuaded him with nods and various hand gestures urging him to get closer. Seungmin finally stepped in front of Hyunjin and kissed him. Hyunjin threw himself into his neck and was determined to swallow the boy he thought was Jeongin.

He didn't realize the folly until Seungmin moaned into his mouth. Then he pulled away, blinking round-eyed at Seungmin and at Jeongin, who stood a few steps away, smiling contentedly.

"I'm sorry, Hyunne." Seungmin turned the older man's face towards himself. "I'd be Innie for you, if that's what you want."

"Don't be stupid." Hyunjin frowned.

"But I am your stupid."

"Don't embarrass yourself in public, Minnie." Hyunjin pressed one last kiss to Seungmin's lips and held his cheek in the palm of his hand. "I've already forgiven you. I'll wash my hair again tomorrow."

"I'd be happy to help you."

"Will you also help me get Jeongin's promised kiss?"

Seungmin grinned. "Of course."

As soon as the last of the satisfied men came out from behind the willow tree, Hyunjin and Jeongin went upstairs to buy cocktails. They argued that it was for Minho's betting punishment. They said no more. Jisung and Seungmin badgered Minho to tell them the secret, then gave up and took revenge by laying down on top of him. Chan and Felix played Uno. Changbin lounged beside you, and you watched the swans with their chicks as they swam among the stones. There were no bird feeders in the area, so you could only watch them.

"When you kissed Felix, it was very hot," Changbin noted.

"And you're just saying that out of the blue?"

"I can't think of anything else since."

"You're cute." You took the opportunity to pinch his chubby cheeks. It was a good thing he was so muscular. His body was a great pillow and his face was chubby, really chewy. "Who did you imagine yourself to be?"

"Is that a serious question?" he got embarrassed almost immediately.

"Both, then."

"Of course, both. There is no other answer that is correct."

"Actually... there may be. If you imagine yourself as a third party."

Changbin moaned and leaned back on the grass. "Don't do this to me! The way you torture me is unhealthy."

You smiled and followed his example, resting your head on his shoulder.

"I didn't say think about it."

"It's like the purple elephant. Once you say it, there's nothing to do but think about it."

"I'm sorry." You planned to gently pat his stomach as a sign of regret, then somehow your hand stayed. It stayed there, like the thought in your head of how nice it would be to kiss Changbin.

As usual, you promised yourself that you would change your kissing habits and become more resistant to the stimulus. Like Minho, or even Jeongin. Of course, that was easier said and promised than done. Especially under the circumstances: you have Seo Changbin lying half-naked next to you, and he's practically pouting as he tells you how sexy you were kissing Felix.

You looked around. As time went on, there were fewer and fewer people on the beach. A couple of fishermen farther away, young people were picking their beaching supplies, and you overheard snippets of conversations in which participants planned to stay and watch the sunset. Families with young children had already left, probably for dinner. The youths were lost in their own world, the others were preparing for the sunset, and the fisher uncles were hopefully waiting for the catch, not how long you have to feel Changbin's chest to elicit a groan. Brilliant.

You took the towel off your shoulders, then spread it over your head.

"What are you up to?"

"Well, you don't have to just think about it." You snuggled closer to him on the blanket, one leg draped over his hip. His warm palm immediately found your thigh.

"Uno!" shouted Felix.

"Lix, if you win this round, can you come here?" you asked.

"Sure. I'm not giving Chan a chance to fight back like last time... And I won!"

While Felix carried himself over to your blankets, Changbin showered you with kisses. Slow, sweet kisses. First on the tip of your nose, then on your forehead, temple and cheek.

"You really are sweet," you smiled.

"I'm not sweet, just weak. Weak for and from love."

You stroked his cheek. You didn't exaggerate with your words. He nuzzled into your palm and continued to watch you lovingly. He deserved that kiss.

"Are you holding a secret council?" joined Felix under your towel. Luckily, it was big enough to fit all three of you underneath. He nestled himself next to Changbin, resting his chin on the boy's shoulder. "What is there to talk about?"

"We don't want to talk, do we, Binnie?" you caressed his mouth, and his lips parted instantly.

"Oh. So that's why you've been hiding."

"Poor thing couldn’t get our kiss out of his head."

Changbin nodded. Felix ran his fingers through the other's hair, playing gently with it. "Is that what you want, Binnie? That kiss?"

"Y-yes. I liked it a lot."

"You know we can't say no when you're so desperate," Felix whispered. He kissed the sensitive skin behind the boy's ear, then glanced at you. You understood what he wanted. You didn't hesitate any longer. You cupped Changbin's chin to stop him moving and leaned into his mouth. You didn't kiss him yet, just took his bottom lip between your teeth, like Felix did with you. Then you licked his lips. Changbin moaned and trembled. He threw himself after your mouth, and that was a good thing, because when Felix grabbed his pecs, you were lucky that your mouth absorbed the passionate sound Changbin made.

He probably would have given himself to you right there and then if you'd wanted all he had. He always loved to give.

He grabbed your thigh and refused to let go. You didn't want to go either. Felix covered Changbin's neck with kisses. It was the last thing you noticed before you fell into the act of kissing with one of your boyfriends again that day.

By the time Jeongin and Hyunjin returned with four cocktails, the three of you were hugging and panting with numb mouths. As the ice cubes clinked softly in the glasses and straws danced along the lemon rims as the two boys prepared the ground for punishment, Jisung grinned and leaned over Felix.

"I'll be next, okay?"

"I never thought you'd like it so much when I kiss our lovers."

"There's something special about it." Jisung sat down next to you. "Ultimately, I'm glad Innie didn't let us bet. Don't tell jagi, but I think we would have lost."

"I think he knows," Changbin said, glancing toward Minho. You lifted your head from his chest to take a look for yourself at the aforementioned. He watched your little grouping with a penetrating glance. He was so hot-

No. Pull yourself together. Your lips can't take any more kisses.

Instead, you looked towards Hyunjin and Jeongin, who were fiddling with the glasses and for some reason pulled out Felix's sleeping mask. Whatever they were up to, Seungmin was smiling contentedly beside them like he was having a great time. Chan was unaware that the punishment was happening now because he had fallen asleep after the Uno party. He still had the cards under his head, but no one had the heart to wake him up and you just let him sleep. On the other hand, you couldn't be sure he wouldn't object to what the bet winners were planning to do.

The rest of you were slowly gathering around the events. Hyunjin handed Minho the sleeping mask.

"Are you going to poison me?"

"Just a little."

Minho grimaced in displeasure.

"Let me remind you that you invented this punishment. Take it." Hyunjin patted Minho's cheek, then retreated. As soon as Minho had the mask on properly, Jeongin and Hyunjin began to cavort. Soon the four different cocktails had turned into one glass of disgusting-coloured, mixed-up mess, and another glass of a clearer colour.

"Open your mouth, hyung!" Jeongin approached with the first glass. He did not hand it to him, but carefully poured a sip into his mouth. Minho spat.

"What the fuck is this?"

"Cocktail." The boy ran the juice around the side of the glass. "Bottoms up!"

"I hate my bets," he sighed irritably.

Finally he drank every disgusting drop. You wouldn't have wanted to be in his shoes. The first glass was empty, the second came. Hyunjin held it up to Minho's mouth. After the first sip, the boy grunted and moaned.

"It's-it's delicious. What did you mix?"

"It's just plain sex on the beach. Jeongin told me how much you wanted it. Don't tell us we tortured you the whole time."

Minho drank that in with more enthusiasm. The last sip rolled down to his Adam's apple.

"That's your punishment." Hyunjin lapped up the tiny drop, happily swallowing it. "You have fulfilled it."

You congratulated him. Jeongin collected the glasses, Seungmin put the sleeping mask away. You helped gather Jisung's dry clothes, because he was getting cold, and accompanied him to the dressing rooms. Finally, once you were there, you went in with him. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

"Anyway... Get ready."

You hung your towel on the rack and turned to the boy with a questioning look. Jisung grinned, and that only made you more curious.

"Huh? What for?"

"I'm going to kiss you so hard you won't want to do anything else for hours."

"Now?"

"I wish, but right now we barely have minutes. Sometime when you're not expecting it." When did Jisung's hand come to your side? "I want to hear the sound you made from Felix's mouth."

"That sounds good." You took the opportunity to touch his hip. "Maybe I can get you to make the sounds you make when you kiss Minho."

"Deal."

Then you quickly got dressed, knowing that Jeongin was in the next stall and would quickly put a stop to any inappropriate action as Chan's responsible deputy.

You yourself shed the slightly damp swimsuit and took a dry seat on a less damp corner of the blanket. Behind you on the air-scoughing mattresses, Changbin issuing instructions. In front of you, the water, bridged orange by the light of the setting sun and the lapping sound of the waves as they crashed against the stones.

Jeongin settled down beside you. He leaned his head on your shoulder.

"Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "It was pretty good after all." He smiled broadly. Cheerfully, sincerely, and before the sunset. Your heart beating feverishly, pride embraced you. "I had a good time today."

"I'm glad." You tilted your own on top of his head, and together you watched the sun go down. A tiny sliver was still visible on the horizon when Minho held out his hand.

"Come on. The day is over. Let's go home."

"Let's go home," you nodded, letting him pull you up off the ground, and then Jeongin. The others competently packed up your stuff so you could be rascally donkeys again on the way back. Chan would have fit right in as a sleeping rascal donkey. Hyunjin assured him that he would drive and Chan should sleep peacefully in the car. Chan smiled gratefully at him. Then he tried to kick Seungmin in the butt, who said something about the need for elderly people to sleep. Seungmin laughed and ran forward, only to suffer a slap on the back of the head from Felix.

You had two bags slung over your shoulders when Minho slapped you on the ass with a snap.

"Hurry up, we're being eaten by mosquitoes!" he smirked.

You laughed in disbelief, then followed him down the path. In revenge, you stuck your hand in his back pocket and didn't take it out until you reached the car.

It was a hot day. Really hot. A real heatwave day, when everyone turns into a walking ice cream cone. But a really exciting, good day to spend with your boyfriends, swimming in your own chaos, and in the water.

stay taglist :: 💕@lemonn015

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lusmeitli · 14 hours

Text

But like of each thing that in season grows

Summary: How a kind gesture can lead to something more. One shot.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Christmas fluff, mention of off screen assault, some swearing, lots of snow, books, poetry, smutty smut.

A/N: Okay, look. It just wanted to get out. You’re thrown in without a warning, nor a floatie. Apologies for the liberties taken to interpret and manipulate characters to dance after my will once more. Obviously don't read if you're a minor.

9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9

The greatest ideas were conceived in the shower. That was a scientific fact.

You liked facts. You did not like uncertainties or speculation. The feeling of being in limbo was something that didn’t sit right with you.

So as you were in the shower, working the conditioner in your hair, the idea was just there. It was simple, humble, but beautiful. Your hands slowed and stilled. And then your mind rebooted and went at lightning speed, planning things out. You needed to write things down.

You stepped out of the shower hurriedly, towelling down your body, before realising that your hair felt different. Cursing, you stepped back under the water to rinse off the conditioner.

*****

You hated staff meetings. Particularly third Thursdays staff meetings, because they dragged on and on. The weekly mission reports were presented and Fury insisted on inviting some guest speakers. He called it “Horizon Thursday”.

In your opinion it narrowed rather than widened it. Today’s guest speaker was Quinn Harris, cyber security specialist. You suspected self-proclaimed, but you hadn’t bothered doing a deep dive on him.

You were sat on the increasingly uncomfortable chair, rows of employees in front of you, the Avengers at the very front. Rogers had delivered his usual military style mission report, the other members of his team trying to look alive, though you suspected Romanoff and Banner were asleep, as they were both donning sunglasses.

“What you need is a quantum computer and it’ll solve all your problems with encryption.”

“They might as well propose using block ciphers,” you murmured under your breath, turning the page in your book.

Meanwhile, a hand shot in the air at the front. “Excuse me, Mr Harris.”

The man smiled. “Mr Stark, do you have a question?”

“Well, not so much a question for you, but I would very much like the opinion of another expert on what you just said. You know, before anyone here thinks about investing in your product, which, let’s be honest, would be me. I’d like to be sure it’s the right thing.”

Fury rolled his eyes and sunk back in his chair.

There had been talk about getting that dude in? You must have zoned out for that part.

Harris’ face fell for a second, but he honed his features and forced a smile. “Of course.”

“It just so happens that we have an inhouse expert,” Tony got up and scanned the crowd. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

Everyone uniformly turned to look at you. Everyone.

You felt the moment one particular pair of eyes set on you. The amount of times you had spoken to one another had been limited to the missions you were needed on, for hacking. You’d had his voice in your ear a few times and it did things to your body that made you feel like a system overheat. You never really saw him during missions though as your job was very much office-bound.

Today, he wore the damn leather suit. Whilst Fury didn’t give a fuck, Rogers very much was all about the professional appearance of the Avengers. What you didn’t understand was why everything looked better on him. The black and green possibly was the best colour combination there ever was. The other day Bucky had worn a Slytherin pullover and even though it very nicely accentuated his physique, it looked nothing like the colours did on Loki.

You swallowed hard when you felt his eyes on you. They seemed to see right through you, even over the distance of the seven rows of chairs.

And then you felt the weight of all the other pairs of eyes on you. That was a lot of people. You gulped and pushed your glasses back up the bridge of your nose - a habit you couldn’t break.

“Y/N,” Tony called, bringing you back to the matter at hand. “Stand up and look at me.” His voice was gentle. “Start breathing again. Good. Now tell me what Harris is not telling me about the quantum computer.”

You adjusted your glasses again and cleared your throat. “It’s a solid proposition, I suppose,” you started, “however, one I would expect from a college freshman, certainly not from a cyber security expert specialist.”

Murmurs erupted, but you ignored them and rattled off your thoughts.

“Can a quantum computer crack asymmetric encryption algorithms? Yes. And yes, we all know that thanks to Shor’s algo the maths problems are only polynomial. Also, we know this applies to discrete log problems, too, therefore, all we’d need is a large enough quantum computer. Of course, he,” you gestured to Harris, “would have to build one first, which as you can guess is very costly. However, this entire presentation is based on the assumption that quantum computing is the end of asymmetric cryptography. And that is such a blatantly ignorant approach, with complete disregard for the safety of the members of our staff that are entirely reliant on the encryption cracking working on all their devices during operations and missions. And this whole quantum computer only works if you have a network connection.”

“So you’re suggesting there are hard problems that a quantum computer can’t solve?” Harris said, chin jutting out, arms crossed defiantly.

“Don’t be silly, of course there are,” you huffed. “I coded new post-quantum asymmetric encryption algos three years ago and tested them on several sites I am not authorised to disclose that have quantum computers. Not one of them cracked the simplest of those codes, in any of the over 5,400 attempts they ran over the past three years. So this presentation is… rather embarrassing in its sloppiness.”

“Well,” Harris’ lips were a thin line now. “I’m sure you have a ‘much better’ suggestion then?” He actually raised his hands to add the quotation marks.

“Actually, I do. I developed our own version of a quantum computer, at - and I’m only guessing here - a fraction of the price you’d charge Mr Stark, which can crack both symmetric and asymmetric encryption, works on all of our staff’s devices, portable and stationary, works offline and is about the size of, uh, a thumbnail.”

You pointed to your thumb, because in your humble experience men like him struggled to accurately size things.

Tony smiled and turned to Harris.

“Okay that concludes today’s meeting.” Fury got to his feet and patted Harris’ shoulder. “Looks like we’re good, but thanks for coming.”

People around you stood, some nodding at you as they passed. Tony caught up with you in the hallway. Before he could say something you blurted out: “Did I say something wrong? Was I rude again?”

He smirked and pushed the button of the lift. “He needed putting into place. Totally fine by me. You did great.”

“Stark!” bellowed Fury from down the hall and Tony winced.

“Excuse me, mother’s calling.” He turned and left.

You sidled into the lift with several other people. The cabin stopped a few floors up and people got off. That was when you noticed Loki on the other side of the lift. Up you went and after another stop you were alone with the Asgardian god. The cabin seemed to shrink.

You both watched the numbers climb, the lift hummed, Loki’s leather suit creaked softly as he crossed his hands behind his back.

“Could you please enlighten me about Shor’s algorithm?” he suddenly asked, looking at you.

You had a heart palpitation. Surely that was what it was. He was so impossibly tall and sculpted and… here.

“Um,” you pushed your glasses back up, “it’s a quantum algorithm for finding the prime factors of an integer.”

Loki’s face looked blank.

“It, er, essentially it finds the prime factors of large numbers a lot faster than conventional computers do. Which we use in encryption. The large numbers, that is. So it cracks codes faster.”

“Ah,” he said, head turning back to continue staring at the number display. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you croaked out.

The urge to facepalm burned under your fingers, but you resisted. As soon as the doors slid open on your floor, however, you fled and sought asylum in the ladies’ toilets, banging your head against the wall of the stall.

*****

Operation Great Idea was in full swing.

So you’ve had a little personal setback, but that didn’t deter you from the objective. You had compiled a list, one you were confident was accurate based on your intel and research. That very list was neatly folded in the deep pocket of your coat as you walked through the cold rain on this late November afternoon.

Yes, you did something you’d never done before - take an afternoon off - and were trying to evade puddles on your way to the bookshop. Could you have ordered the books online? Most of them, certainly. But your late mother, an independent business owner, had ingrained in you to support local shops. You liked bookshops, they reminded you of her and of simpler times.

Your timing was excellent - of course you had researched when the shop was least busy - and you practically had the shop to yourself. And so you walked, dragging a pull-along basket behind you as you searched the shelves for the books on the list.

Sometimes, there were different editions there and you stood for a while, feeling the weight of each book in your hand, the feel of the embossed letters on the spine, the scent of the pages. You wanted it to be just right, so you took your time.

Some of the books you would only be able to get in a little second hand bookshop, tucked away in a side street. You had called beforehand and the owner lifted a box from under the counter to show you what she had reserved for you. As soon as your fingers made contact with the books you felt absolutely giddy.

Back at the Tower, you spent two entire evenings wrapping books after work. When you were finished, you leaned back, looking at the neatly organised stack. Yes, you were ready. Now all you needed was an exorbitant amount of luck for the next 24 days.

*****

You watched Loki stare suspiciously at the first parcel. He was sitting in the communal kitchen, Thor next to him.

“Why would it be hexed?” Thor asked. “Simply because the sender is missing?”

Loki just gave him a pointed look.

“Come, brother, aren’t you curious to find out what is in this gift?”

“Loki got a present?” Steve asked as he pulled a bowl out of a cupboard. “Did I miss his birthday?”

Before Loki could say anything, Thor shook his head. “He’s worried it has been tampered with.”

Roger’s brows furrowed. “How did it get into your possession?”

“It was on the floor outside my door this morning,” Loki complied, sighing.

“FRIDAY would have picked up on any foreign substances or intruders in the tower,” Tony said between gulps of coffee. “He now can detect traces of magic, too. ‘Course, he went apeshit over your magic, but we got it under control, eventually.”

“That’s what all this ‘Alert, alert, magic detected, caution advised’ blaring at five in the morning was?” Scott bustled in.

A slight tinge of red shaded Loki’s complexion. “I have to practise some time.”

“Thought you were born with it?” Scott interjected, helpfully.

This earned him a glare. “I was born with the aptitude for magic and sorcery. It takes a lot more than mere talent to achieve this level of proficiency.”

“Several centuries, in fact,” his brother supplied. “Now then Stark here says it’s safe. So open it, brother!” Thor clapped his hands together.

Loki indignantly and very reluctantly slid the parcel towards him and pulled on the simple string that held the wrapping together. The paper fell open to reveal one of the books you had picked.

From your vantage point of, well, your computer screen, you zoomed in to get a better look at him.

“Oh, a book,” you heard the onlookers muttering disappointedly, quickly losing interest and going about their business once more.

But Loki just sat, staring at the book. It took him a good few minutes to pick it up. And he did what you had seen him do many times before. He weighed it in his hands, fingertips running over the cover, the spine. Then he opened the lid. To anyone else it might not have been noticeable, but to you it was: he inhaled the scent of the book. And finally, there was the smallest upturn of his lips.

You exhaled, relieved. One down 23 more to go.

*****

Over the next week you were too busy testing the new firewall you had developed to check on Loki’s reaction. Sometimes you felt a little self-conscious, scared even that he might not like the books or think this was from a stalker. Which technically you had indulged in, stalking that was, but only to find the perfect books for him. And then sometimes you would get worried that someone else might have found the presents.

But you knew he had received every single one of them, for every evening, when you passed the common area you saw him sitting on the couch with the latest offering in his hands. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but it looked as if his tense shoulders had started to relax a bit.

Another couple of days went by and as the decorations started to pop up in the Tower and the first snow fell that didn’t immediately melt or turn to mush you felt happy. Perhaps it also had something to do with the fact that a certain someone walked differently. Maybe it was your imagination. But he seemed even taller these days.

*****

“Did it work?” you heard his voice in your ear a couple days later.

The data set was streaming on the screen in front of your eyes. “It did. Give me a moment to inject the virus, then you can disconnect the USB cable.”

“Can I still talk to you?”

Your fingers on the keyboard stilled for a moment, surprised. “Of course. The program runs through your phone, not through comms.”

There was a little pause, before he said: “I have a question. About a Midgardian tradition.”

You wrinkled your nose, scanning the code rushing over the screen. “I’ll try my best, but I’m rubbish at traditions.”

The audible outbreath sent shivers down your spine. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“What’s your question then?”

“Tell me about the Yuletide calendar.”

45% done. “You mean the Advent calendar?”

“Precisely.”

This was dangerous territory you were treading on. “Oh, it’s a fun thing for kids, really. To make the wait for Christmas a bit more exciting and I guess more bearable. It’s nice to get a little something like a toy.”

“Is it always toys?”

69% now. “Well, no. My mum used to get me an advent calendar that had these lovely drawings behind each door. I hung it up in the front room and we’d open it together every morning.”

“I suppose it’s a nice custom,” he said, before asking, “What about grown ups, do they have advent calendars?”

83%. “Sometimes. There’s all sorts: beer, wine, beauty products, chocolates - you name it, it probably exists somewhere.”

“Books, too?”

The question threw you, did he know it was you? A light was blinking on your screen.

100%.

“That’s it, Loki, the virus is uploaded, you can unplug the cable now and get out of there.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You heard a crackle and the comms was handed over to operations again. As you finished running the decryption programme on the data Loki had extracted, you kept hearing his voice in your head.

“Books, too?” Were you busted?

*****

Security breaches were both an insult as well as an admittedly welcome challenge to you. Someone had tried to flex their fingers - and you had a very good idea who - to break into Stark’s network. They had managed to pierce a little hole into the outer layer of the firewall, but they didn’t know that you had several back up plans in place and you enjoyed watching them work. However, as you scanned over the intruder’s code you devised a new security strategy.

You were in the middle of coding a nice little primer for a new layer - unexpected because of its simplicity, but a tough little nut to crack - when someone cleared their throat next to you. You looked up to find Loki, his eyes fixed on you. You blinked, looked around, but no one else was there, and back up at the god.

“Can I, uh, help you?” Smooth. You facepalmed internally.

“I realised I have never been in here,” he said, looking around the room, then back at your desk. “You have a lot of monitors.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “Just the standard three.”

“What are you doing now? Or is it a secret?”

“It’s not a secret at all. So we’re currently under attack. Relax,” she said when she noticed him tense, “cyberattack. Someone’s knocking at our backdoor, trying to see if they can get in.”

You motioned to one of your screens. “This is the intruder’s code. He’s trying out lots of keys to see if he can get in. And this,” you pointed to the screen next to it, “is our defence mechanism.”

“Extraordinary.” Loki’s low voice murmured. He was close. You turned your head and nearly had a heart attack at just how close. His sharp profile was illuminated by the blue glow of the monitor, his hair falling to his shoulders, one hand splayed on the desk, the other resting on the back of your chair. He looked beautiful. Perfect. He was leaning closer to the screen so he could see what was going on. Your breath hitched.

And then he turned his head.

Something that sounded an awful lot like a squeak escaped your throat.

Loki lifted an eyebrow. “Am I making you nervous, Agent Y/N?”

You pushed your glasses up your nose and leaned back, just an inch. “No?”

Loki’s eyes drifted over your face, before they met your gaze again. “Is that a question or a statement?”

“A… a statement,” you mumbled and, for good measure, added, “sir.”

His eyes darkened, a smirk curling the left side of his lips. “Are you scared of me?”

You tilted your head ever so slightly. “How can I be scared of you?”

“You’ve heard the stories, undoubtedly.”

“I did. And if I believed everything people told me and not looked beyond I would be incredibly shitty at my job.”

He smiled at that. It was small, but there, and it made him so attractive you felt your stupid heart starting to pound in your chest. Could he hear it?

“Do you like to read, Agent Y/N?”

Another adjustment of your glasses. “I do.”

“What would you say is your favourite book?” His voice was low and smooth.

His hand moved from your desk to the side of your face, where he gently pulled on a tendril, before he brushed it behind your ear. The back of his fingers skimmed your cheek for less than a second, but it sent you reeling. It was as if an electromagnetic pulse was slowly wiping clean your hard drive. You couldn’t think.

“Um, err, Jane.. Jane Eyre.”

He hummed. “I wonder why? Is it because she’s abandoned and rejected all her life?”

You shook your head slowly. “No. Because she’s forced to leave home, into a life she didn’t choose. But when she is given the freedom and space to grow she learns to be the master of her happiness.”

His eyes followed the curve of your neck and back up again. It almost felt as if he was touching you. “Interesting.”

You swallowed again, before he stood upright, nodded at you, turned and left.

Your heart was pounding. And then your computer beeped and your attention was back on the screen.

“Oh pants…” Your fingers started flying over the keyboard. “Not today, Harris. Or any other day.”

Nine more books to go.

*****

He was onto you. Of course he was. After all, he was the God of Mischief and Lies. If anyone would find out who was behind this, it would be him. Personally, the preferred outcome was that he never would find out.

You had asked yourself often over the last 18 days why exactly you wanted to do this for him. But that was just it. You really had no other motive than wanting to do this for him. Maybe because you sympathised with him, being stuck somewhere far from home, feeling lonely and not really integrated. Maybe you had projected your own feelings onto him a tiny little bit. Possibly considerably. However, it was done with the best of intentions. You wanted to make this nice for him. The run up to Christmas. A little bit magical. He must like magic, he was a sorcerer after all, wasn’t he?

So what if you had started dreaming of him at night. He would lean over you as you sat at your desk, in all his tall- and broadness. This time his hands would be touching you. And he’d lean in to whisper into your ear. Admittedly, not words you would necessarily associate with such a situation.

When you would wake up you knew where to place the things he said to you in your dreams. He’d said them to you during missions. And yes, “how much longer till the download is complete, Agent Y/N?” was not remotely as sexy as “I’m going to ravish you now, thoroughly” would have been, for example. But your brain only had so much to work with and it worked for you.

You noticed a few things, however. Loki was around more often, probably just a silly coincidence, or you had started to pay more attention. He looked at you now. You’d look up and find him already looking at you, sometimes a little smile crossed his lips, but mostly it was just something with his eyes, they seemed… warmer, maybe?

However, to your horror you discovered that you had started to blush. Every single time this happened. So you spent a lot of time in the ladies’ toilets, splashing your face with cold water, only to see it even more flushed than before. Apparently, all the books you had read lied about that ‘splashing your face with cold water to calm down and not make people notice’-thing.

But it all boiled down to the fact that he was onto you. Maybe he was humouring you and seeing where this was going. Maybe he had found out already and you made him feel awkward. Or he was waiting for the opportune moment to expose and humiliate you. You weren’t sure which.

Right now it didn’t matter. You were so tired you could hardly see properly anymore. So when you decided to crash on the sofa in the common room, because it was halfway to your room, you didn’t think to check if anyone was there.

That was mistake number one.

You collapsed onto the sofa with a groan, eyes closed, head leaning against the back of the sofa.

“Fuck. My. Fucking. Life,” you complained to the universe. “Can you please make the appendage of that misogynistic wanker fall off already? For fuck’s sake!”

Mistake number two.

Someone chuckled. It came from rather close to you.

Dread filled you. Foul language was not tolerated in the workplace. To be fair you could argue that the common room was not your workplace per se, however, you did not want to start arguing with HR because they were absolute savages in the art of word twisting. Or just savages full stop.

Carefully, you cracked your eyes open. And there, on the sofa right next to you, sat Loki. One leg was stretched out in all its glorious length, the other bent at the knee, his forearm resting over it, the book in his lap now closed, one of his slender fingers acting as bookmark. For a moment you wondered what it would feel like to be the book.

“I hope it’s not my appendage you’re asking to be removed,” he said with a smirk.

You grappled to sit up, horrified. “Of course not! That would be awful… I mean, a terrible thing to wish for… you’d… err… such a loss of such a beautiful… I mean, I can only guess… but… um, err… heavens, please make me stop talking…”

You hid your head in a throw pillow, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

Mistake number three.

The sound of a low, rumbly laugh made its way to your ears. It entered your system like a virus, leaving your limbs feeling weak and yearning. Was Loki laughing? You lifted your head and watched him, highly bemused at your idiotic display.

It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard. You felt a hard tug at your heart. Goodness, if this man wasn’t already a god, you’d have to declare him one. If he were the head of a religion you would throw out your atheist views and follow him to the end of the multiverse. He looked absolutely breathtaking. Then again, when did he not?

“I’m so sorry,” you started to apologise, “I don’t know what-”

With superhuman speed he moved and sat next to you, his finger on your lips. The feel of his digit on your mouth felt more intimate than any sexual intercourse you’d ever had.

And then he leaned in.

He was so close your cells were basically breathing him in. His eyes were locked onto yours and nothing would have been able to make you look away right then.

“Do you want to know what book I’m reading right now?” His quiet words did things to your insides that were not legal.

You just about managed to nod, his finger still in place.

“‘The Remains of the Day’ by Kazuo Ishiguro. Do you know it?” He waited for your affirmation. “It’s about a man who is in love with a woman. But he doesn’t tell her. When they meet again after decades, she tells him her life would have been different if she had married him. And you know what he does? He still won’t admit his feelings to her. He walks away from her. The first time he lets her go, the second time he walks away.”

You remembered the book very well. You had picked it out for him, after all.

“It’s a cruel story, Y/N. A love that is never acknowledged, nor consumed.” Loki’s eyes drifted from yours down to your mouth. His finger slowly traced the outline of your lips. It was too much, your eyes closed.

“Do you think love is this cruel?” Loki asked quietly. You felt his words as he spoke them almost onto your skin. So close.

“It-it can be,” you whispered. “But maybe, maybe that wasn’t the point of the story.”

“No?”

You opened your eyes to find him looking at you. He’d moved away a bit, giving you some space, waiting for you to elaborate.

“Maybe the point was to show that he chose his job over love. Twice. You can call it dignity or pride, but at the end he’s alone. Without love.”

“What about you, Y/N? Do you have love in your life?”

You weren’t able to look into his eyes. Slowly, you got off the sofa. You turned back to him to respond to find he’d stood up, too.

You looked down at your shoes. His shoes were black, of course, polished, perfect, like him. Yours were several seasons old. Worn. A bit of the shoe sole had started to peel off at the top of your toes. The bit you always kicked into the floor when you worked.

Your eyes wandered up his trousers, black, to the belt, his pullover, also black. He looked effortlessly elegant, poised. You, on the other hand, looked a mess, even in your work attire. Your heart grew heavy at the realisation. Your dreams were stupid. Turned out your heart was even more stupid. And suddenly you felt incredibly small in more ways than one next to the tall, powerful god.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you said: “I have known love, once. A long time ago.”

With that you pivoted on your heels and left, leaving Loki alone in the common room.

*****

Harris was an absolute tosser.

He just couldn’t leave things be. He insisted on trying to show you up, so he tried and tried to hack his way through your firewalls. Of course he had tried to hide his identity and it had made you chuckle, because you seriously had no idea how he could ever dare call himself a cyber security specialist if he covered up his tracks like a novice hacker.

In a way it was cute, but it was getting to the point of obsessive stalking and you frankly were rather tired of this little game by now. Particularly, since it kept you from your nice, warm, comfortable bed well past midnight.

However, Harris seemed to have changed tactics and started to badmouth you in the industry. Even Fury had called Tony and asked whether he should be worried, because Harris had dug up some hacking you’d done when you were much younger and much less ethical. Really it was unhinged, but everyone worked through teenage years in their own way.

You only knew this because you happened to be in Tony’s office and he had Fury on loudspeaker. Tony had pacified Fury without batting an eye, then hung up and asked if you’d be okay with him paying Harris a little visit, preferably as Iron Man. You had both laughed it off. But it bugged you.

So when you were on your way back to the tower from the compulsory (for all employees) counselling session and someone grabbed you, you weren’t surprised to come face to face with Harris. He didn’t lay a finger on you. No, he got two goons to do that for him.

Later, as you stumbled out of the lift and along the corridor, trying to make your way to your room, someone blocked your way.

“Speak of the devil! Y/N! We were just talking about you.” Tony. Other voices around him.

You kept your head down, thinking of how to get out of this unnoticed.

“We were just wondering if– Y/N? What happened?” You saw Tony’s hand reach out for you, but you flinched away.

Silence fell for a long moment.

Then a movement. Shoes appeared in your line of vision. You knew those shoes well. They had been on display on the couch for the past 22 days, attached to an Asgardian god.

He slowly held out his hand, palm up. An assurance, no harm. You gave the slightest nod. He moved the hand up and placed a finger under your chin so carefully you wanted to sob. The faintest of pressure had you lift your head to look up at Loki. His eyes scanned your appearance, stopping at your bruised hands that were trying to hold together your coat, taking in the blood splatters on the fabric, your busted lip, the lopsided glasses, the badly bent temple dangling off its hinge.

You never understood the expression ‘his features darkened’. You did now. Loki’s face transformed and you saw for the first time what a dangerous man he could be. Power radiated off him. You were glad it was not directed at you. His nostrils flared and you almost heard how much he was clenching his teeth.

“Names,” he ground out.

A hot tear rolled down your cheek and now that it started it didn’t want to stop. His eyes softened, something akin to vulnerability flitting across his features.

“H–Har…”

“Harris?” Tony asked softly. You nodded, still looking at Loki.

Loki rolled his lips in his mouth, his thumb swiping ever so lightly over the skin of your chin, before dropping his hand and walking to the lift in long strides.

“Nat?” Tony asked, the spy already by your side.

“Hold up, Reindeer Games!” Tony hollered behind you, as Romanoff led you down the corridor to your room. “I’m coming, too…”

It felt as if you were having an out of body experience as you were peeled out of your bloodied coat, your clothes and body assessed quickly but gently. She pulled out her phone after she ushered you into the shower.

“Tony? No forced intercourse, but lots of bruising…,” was all you heard before the hot spray of the water ran into your ears, blocking all noise out.

*****

Your glasses were fixed and you could see properly again. That was important, otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to see Harris’ face on the news as he was escorted - handcuffed - from a courtroom and shoved into a police van, followed by the two goons who had helped him.

When you turned from the screen above the cashier, you saw Loki next to Tony across the canteen, looking at you. You walked over, clutching your sandwich.

“So, um… thank you,” you said, gesturing to the screen, “for that.”

Tony put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently, before his eyes gazed behind you. “Is that a double cheeseburger I see? Excuse me.”

And off he went, leaving you alone with the Asgardian god.

You shuffled your feet, studying the floor.

“Thanks again-”

“Are you okay?”

You both said at the same time. You laughed quietly, looking up at him. He smiled. You’d never seen Loki smile.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you said.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

You wanted to say so much more, do so much more, like hug him. But he was a god. You weren’t exactly sure what the protocol was for hugging gods. The awkward silence thickened.

“So, I’ll see you around?”

He was still smiling. “Yes. See you around.”

You were fairly sure you were blushing as you scampered off, back to your office.

*****

Bryant Park was one of your favourite places to be in New York. For one, it was right behind the public library - your heaven. For another, it was close to the Tower and you could wander the paths under the lovely trees. The park was very busy as it was Christmas Eve and people wanted to while away the time in the Winter Village until the big day. But as the ice rink closed down and the skaters came off, noses and cheeks red from the cold, the park started to empty.

You sat on a bench under one of the trees, gloved hands deep in your coat pockets, a woolly hat and scarf keeping you warm. Your head was tilted back and you watched the snowflakes dance and twirl in the cold wind.

“Y/N,” someone called.

Loki stood a few metres away from you, a black coat making him look even taller. He was not donning a hat or a scarf, he looked comfortable with the cold. The snow clung to his dark hair, a soft dusting was on his shoulders. You envied the snowflakes.

You got to your feet and he took a few steps closer, looking down at you.

“Were you enjoying the activities?” Loki asked, nodding to the ice rink.

“No, I just… I just like to sit here,” you said, feeling a bit silly. “I like the trees and the snow. It’s… peaceful.”

He nodded.

“How about you? Fancied a turn on the ice?”

He laughed and you watched the cloud mix with your breath. Now you envied your breath.

“Actually, I was looking for you.”

“Me?”

He took another step towards you. “Yes.”

“Why? Did something happen at the Tower?” Worriedly, you fumbled your phone out of the coat pocket and checked it.

A large hand covered it. You looked up. “Nothing happened. I wanted to talk to you.”

Nervously, you glanced down at his hand that still covered your phone. If you hadn’t been wearing gloves your hands would have had actual skin on skin contact. He dropped his hand to his side.

“Am I in trouble?”

He shook his head. “I… I wanted to thank you.”

“What for?”

His hand pulled a book out of his pocket. “For this.” He slid it back in the folds of his coat.

“Oh.” You didn’t really know how to feel or react. You knew he’d been onto you, so it was no surprise he’d sussed it out. He was, after all, the God of Mischief and Lies. But you had to give him kudos for letting it play out.

“Um, you’re welcome.” You bit your lip.

“You don’t know what this meant– what this means to me.”

It was impossible to look at him.

“I was dreading this time of year here on Midgard. But your incredibly generous advent calendar made it feel… like when I first visited here with my mother.” He grasped your gloved hands in his. “I miss her dearly, so thank you. For giving me this.”

You were too choked up to say anything, so you just nodded.

“Can I enquire what your reason was?”

It was so cautious, as if he was worried it might scare you off. And yet, the question threw you, most likely because you had been asking yourself the very same thing from the moment of its conception in your shower. It was just there, a need, an urgency you didn’t know where it came from or why it existed. It was something you had to do. Like breathing.

But over the course of the last few weeks, particularly the last few days, it had become painfully clear why you did it.

“I wanted, no, I needed you to be happy.”

He squeezed your hands gently. The tips of his shoes, his shiny, polished shoes, now touched yours.

“Please look at me.”

So you did. He looked different… vulnerable maybe.

“Why do you need me to be happy?” The question was another cloud and you breathed it in, let it fill your lungs.

“Because…” You were afraid to say it, to admit it. But something in his eyes made you courageous. Either that, or foolish.

“Because I watched you, during missions and in briefings and ops planning. You started to believe what they said about you. And it’s not true. There’s so much you don’t share, don’t tell them and I see it. It’s right there in your eyes. And I didn’t want you to lose yourself. And it’s selfish, I know, but I need you to be happy… because if you are, so am I.”

“If you think that’s selfish, then I am guilty of this notion, too.”

Loki raised his right hand to run the backs of his fingers over your cold cheek. “I knew after three days it was you. I wanted to see where this was going, what your motivation was. And I… when I saw you after Harris… I was filled with so much rage and fear. That I would lose you. Before I had you.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, you closed your eyes, heart beating out of your chest at what you were hearing. Was this a dream?

Loki’s voice was just above a whisper. “Can I? Have you?”

You moved away slightly to look into his eyes. “Yes.”

He leaned in, his hands splaying on your back, as you stood on your toes. The moment his lips touched yours, you felt a current run straight to your heart. It was as if your brain rewired, the missing piece of the primer clicked into place and unlocked everything.

Snow was falling as Loki kissed you under the tree. You didn’t hear the whistles and hollering of passerbys. You didn’t feel the cold wind. You felt elated, buzzing even.

“Your phone is buzzing,” Loki murmured against your lips.

“Hm?” you said dreamily.

“Your phone is buzzing,” Loki smiled, “someone’s calling you.”

Quickly you pulled out the damned device. Before you could even say your name, you heard Tony say: “So sorry for disrupting, Y/N, but we got a slight issue here that needs your expert skills pronto.”

You hung up, burying your head in Loki’s chest. His laugh rumbled in his chest. “We’ll talk more later.”

Breathing in his scent and holding onto him, you weren’t ready to let go. “Promise?”

*****

“Oh god, yes,” you sighed in absolute bliss. “That’s the spot, right there.”

Your groan sounded through the kitchen. You deserved that after three hours of extra work on Christmas Eve.

“Here?” Nat asked.

“Yes, yes! Please don’t stop,” you begged, putty in her hands, eliciting more noises from you.

“Maybe you should try yoga. Your shoulders and your whole upper body are so tense and full of knots. There’s a class I go to tomorrow at lunchtime, if you want to join me?”

“No time,” you murmured. “Heavens, Nat, what else can you do with those hands?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teased.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Banner interrupted, grabbing Nat by the hand and dragging her to the door. “I’m happy to share my girlfriend’s masseuse skills for a severe case of muscle lock, but I’m afraid I have a personal request now.”

You opened your eyes to catch Nat winking at you, a slight blush on her cheeks as she was pulled out of the room. “So I’m your girlfriend now?” you heard before they disappeared down the corridor.

You laughed and turned in your stool. Thor, Scott and Loki stood staring. Thor at the ends of his braids, Scott at his fingernails, Loki at you. Eyes intense and dark. You swallowed.

“Y/N, a word, if you please,” Loki said, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and marching out of the room, with you trying to keep up with his long strides, your coat and shoulder bag in your other hand.

He didn’t say a single word until you reached his room - it was closest - and the door shut behind you, locking the outside world out. He pushed you against the door, arm placed against the wood above your head, body leaning into yours, not quite touching.

“That was… a rather interesting display,” he remarked quietly, his breath puffing against your face as he spoke. “In future, I would prefer if your keening was reserved for me.”

Your hands found the buttons of his shirt. “That sounds like an exclusive right to me.”

“It most certainly is.” His lips hovered over yours.

Your index finger slipped in the space between two buttons. “A right that needs to be earned,” you whispered, your finger grazing his skin.

His breath hitched ever so slightly. “Do not challenge me, darling,” he leaned in, his body moving against yours teasingly. “It might be,” his mouth brushed against your earlobe, “too taxing for you.”

You scoffed, but his lips silenced you. His stance shifted as he picked you up and placed you on the nearest surface - a sideboard - and stepped between your legs. He broke the kiss, to cup your face. For a long moment he just gazed at you. The heat in his eyes seemed to intensify, turning you into a needy mess. He made a show of taking off your glasses, folding the temples and carefully putting them on the side board next to you. Your core clenched.

He held out his hand for you to hop off the furniture. You took it and he took to your lips.

It was quite possible that several things fell off on your way to Loki’s bedroom. When you pushed him into the wall to open the damned buttons of his shirt, a picture might have fallen. A vase, perhaps, when he picked you up and spun you around so your back was against the doorframe next to the fragile ornament. Your head hit the heavy frame of a painting, rendering it lopsided, when Loki feasted on your throat, and you tilted your head back to allow him better access.

Kissing, licking, nipping, sucking - he was intent on leaving marks. Your fingers somehow were in his hair, keeping his head in place. Soft, his hair was so soft. A sharp contrast to the teeth you felt pulling on your skin. His ministrations drew a long moan from you.

Loki smiled against your skin. “Yes, my siren, sing.”

Your back hit the mattress and he crawled over you. His hair a curtain, screening you off from the rest of the world in your own sacred space. His shirt hung open, your hands reached out, tracing each line, each dip. His tongue against yours mimicked the motion of his hips that rolled into you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, meeting each movement, as if you had practised this dance many times before. He pulled away to tug off your pullover. His fingers pushed up your bra and then he sucked your nipple into his hot mouth, making you arch your back.

“Loki, please.”

You didn’t really know what you begged for. More, probably. More of this, more of him.

He pulled you up so you both were kneeling on the bed. Shaking hands fumbled with clothes and fastenings and then you were both naked. Your breath hitched at his beauty.

“Can I…,” you started, voice sounding hoarse. You looked up at him. “Please let me worship you.”

Something flickered across his face - surprise? He gave a curt nod and then watched every single one of your movements.

You took his right hand, tracing each finger with yours, the veins on the back of his hands. You brought his hand up to your face, cradling it to your cheek, before kissing the palm of his hand. One finger at a time, you sucked it into your mouth, to the knuckle, your tongue swirling around the digit, before releasing it and pressing a kiss to the tip, before moving on to the next.

Your hands traced the skin of the inside of his arm, his veins, the rise and fall of his muscles, and up over his shoulder, across his chest to his left arm, which you gave the same treatment. Each birthmark, each scar was kissed. Your hands skimmed over his chest, your lips followed the path. Loki’s breath stuttered when you sucked on his left nipple, before you released it, softly blowing on it. It puckered. You bestowed the same treatment upon the other nipple.

“Please, lie down,” you whispered and he complied.

You lay next to him, kissing his forehead, your fingers running through his hair along his scalp, gently tugging. Onwards, to kiss the curve of each eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, his chin, along his jawline to his ear. You felt his body shiver when you breathed: “You are so beautiful, inside and out.”

Then your teeth closed around his earlobe, gently pulling. A deep moan sounded through the room. Up until now he had let you do whatever you wanted to and not touched you. But his restraint waned and his hands splayed on your back, pulling you flush against his body. You kept going, your lips now worshipping his delectable throat. He tilted his head back to give you better access.

“Herregud,” he rasped as you kissed, licked and sucked on his sensitive skin. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard, his hands growing slack on your back.

You kissed the dip between his collar bones and worked your way down his torso, lips kissing, hands caressing. Further and further you went, along his abs, dipping in his belly button, following the trail of hair below. You leaned back a bit, to look at him. He was fully erect, heavy, swaying slightly. The purple mushroom head gleaming with pearls of pre-cum, thick veins running down the shaft to his pubic hair.

You licked your lips, curling one of your hands around his base, the other cupping his testacles. Then you looked up at him. He was up on his elbows, staring down at you hotly, biting his lips as he watched you in anticipation. You made sure to have and maintain eye contact and then you took him into your mouth.

He hissed, his head falling back, a loud moan following when you hollowed your cheeks to apply suction, the salty taste of his precum on your tongue.

You moved your hand up his length, still sucking, giving his testicles a gentle yet confident squeeze. Up your mouth went, your tongue circling his slit, before sucking him back in. The third time you did it, his hands clasped your shoulders.

“Stop.”

You looked up at him. Loki was breathing hard and you let his cock slide from your mouth with a wet ‘plop’.

In an instant your back was on the mattress and he hovered over you.

“Please don’t misunderstand,” he explained, voice rough, “I loved it, but I have plans.”

He settled between your legs, eyes locked on yours, hand on your thigh, pulling your leg around his waist. His hand slid up, splaying over the fullness of your ass, before giving it a firm squeeze, then sliding over the globe and dipping between your legs. When his slender digits made contact with your aching centre, you cried out. Your whole body was throbbing with need.

“All this nectar is for me?” he rasped.

You nodded.

“Oh, I have to see this.” And in one fluid motion he sat back on his heels, spreading your legs with his hands, looking at your dripping wet centre in amazement.

“Wait a moment,” he said, before he scrambled off the bed and disappeared in the corridor, only to come back a few moments later to resume his place between your legs. He handed you something with a smirk. Your glasses.

“I want you to see me.”

You put them on, your heartbeat accelerating. You bit your lip in anticipation. He looked up at you, his hot breath puffing against your wet core and then his flat tongue licked you all the way from your entrance to your clit. Your fingers fisted in the bedsheets, eyes falling shut in ecstasy, mouth open in a silent cry.

“Look at me.”

You did. He started a rhythm of licking, sucking and lapping that had the coil inside you wind up and tighten impossibly in no time at all. You fell back onto a pillow. Then he slid two fingers inside you and your hands dove into his hair, tugging, scraping.

What a visual. Loki between your legs, eyes burning into yours, humming and moaning against your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you, curling just at the right time, at the exact angle you needed. It was as if you were a book he’d read a thousand times before. Your toes curled and then you fell into the abyss. You moaned out his name over and over as the orgasm washed over you, leaving your legs shaking.

Loki moved up your body, placing kisses on your thighs, your tummy, your breasts, before he brushed some hair out of your face. You took your glasses off, he placed them on the bedside table. His eyes searched yours.

“I need you, Loki,” you managed, pulling him down.

He kissed you deeply, slowly, the taste of you on his tongue. His hips rocked forward and he slid inside you all the way to the hilt. Loki stilled and broke the kiss, resting his damp forehead against yours.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

Your fingers caressed his back. Unable to form words, you nodded. Then he moved. His hips rocked into yours in slow, deep thrusts. He filled you so well, stimulating places inside you you didn’t know existed. Your hands ran over his back, down his sides, making him shiver. He watched you, eyes dark but warm. One hand found your swollen clit and his fingers circled and rubbed, applying the pressure you needed to fall into oblivion again. Your feet pressed into his ass cheeks to bring him closer, deeper and his name fell from your lips over and over.

He rocked inside you as you rode out your orgasm. You opened your eyes to look at him in wonder. Never had you seen anything as beautiful as Loki. He seemed to glow from the inside. Maybe it was your imagination. You lifted your head, cupping his face to pull him in for a kiss. His tongue moved languidly against yours, savouring the intimacy.

Then he started moving faster, pulling one of your legs up to rest the calf against his shoulder. Deeper, you wanted him deeper. You couldn’t get close enough. His mouth was devouring yours in a needy kiss, all tongues and teeth now as he pistoned faster into you, your hips meeting each of his thrusts. His lips found your nipple, sucking, pulling on it, moving to its sibling. You couldn’t believe you were on the verge again already. Never before had you been able to orgasm more than once during intercourse.

The room was quiet but for the moans, the heavy breathing. You were so wet that your coupling’s noise was wonderfully dirty, edging you both on even more.

“Look at us,” Loki commanded and you did.

Nothing had ever been so erotic as watching him fill you, stretch you, sliding out, covered in your juices. His fingers were on your clit again, rubbing, circling.

“I don’t know if I can…”

“One more, darling, give me one more,” he insisted, breathlessly.

His hips moved faster, as did his fingers and you were there, on the edge. Loki’s eyes met yours and he knew. His movements stuttered, pupils fully blown, jaw slack, a drop of sweat sliding down his temple.

“Cum with me,” you whispered, your fingers dragging down his back, possibly breaking skin, squeezing and pulling his ass into you.

And he did, propelling you into bliss with him. Your name fell from his lips in a string of Norse profanities. His cock pulsated as the hot ropes of his seed marked your insides as his, your pussy eagerly clenching around him, making sure every last drop would be spent inside you. His movements slowed and then he stilled, buried inside you.

Loki’s lips pressed onto yours in a tender kiss. You stayed in the embrace until you both caught your breath. Then he pulled out of you, your mixed juices running out of you. He could have cleaned you up using magic.

But Loki got out of bed, got a wet flannel from the bathroom and gently cleaned you, kissing your tired body, before sliding back into bed. He pulled you into his arms, your hands joined over his heart, legs intertwined and you both lay there, in your bubble of utter and complete happiness under warm covers, watching the snowflakes dance outside the window in the early hours of Christmas Day.

Christmas Day!

“Oh, wait here!”

You scrambled off the bed and ran to the door, forgetting about your nakedness, pulling your shoulder bag from under your coat. You pulled something from it and brought it back to Loki. He was sitting up, forearms resting on his knees, an intrigued look on his face.

“Merry Christmas,” you said.

He looked at you and then at the present you held out to him. He cocked an eyebrow as he took it and pulled the fabric ribbon off. His hands parted the paper and then he grew completely still.

“Where in the nine realms did you get this?” he asked after a few moments, voice sounding rough.

“A friend of mine got her hands on this a while back. I thought you might like it.”

He stared at the book, transfixed. His slender fingers caressing the embossed letters on the front and then he lifted it to take in the scent of the pages. His eyes closed.

“Do you? Like it, I mean?” You were worried about this book. It had cost an arm and a leg, but you thought it would be worth it.

“Like it?” Loki asked, finally looking at you and pulling you on his lap. “My mother used to read me his poems when I was a child. I rediscovered it later. This is…”

He was searching for words, failed to find them and instead kissed you, hard, hand fisting in your hair. After a long moment, he broke the kiss.

“Thank you, love.”

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, stroking his pulse point.

“Will you read it to me?” you asked, a bit out of breath.

Nodding, he sat against the headboard, you curled up against him with his arm around you. He made sure you were both tucked under the covers. Then he opened the book and cleared his throat.

“Kormákr Ӧgmundarson ‘Sigurðardrápa ‘Drápa’. This is one of my favourites, he wrote it for the love of his life.”

His fingers wandered up your arm.

“Brunnu beggja kinna

bjǫrt ljós á mik drósar,

oss hlœgir þat eigi,

eldhúss of við felldan.”

His digits absently stroked your ribcage, skirting over the side of your breast. The rhythm and intonation of his deep voice made you clench your thighs.

“Enn til ǫkkla svanna

ítrvaxins gatk líta,

þrǫ́ muna oss of ævi

eldask, hjá þreskeldi.”

He paused, closing the book and brushing his lips against the skin of your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut.

“What-what does he say?” you all but stuttered.

Loki kissed along your collarbone. Humming against your skin.

“The bright lights of both

her cheeks burned onto me

from the fire-hall's felled wood;

no cause of mirth for me in that.”

His hands cupped your breasts as he sucked and teased one of the nipples. Your hands tugged on his hair, desperate for him again already. You felt his need hard and heavy against your thigh.

“By the threshold I gained a glance

at the ankles of this girl

of glorious shape.”

Loki moved to lie between your legs, hands sliding over your breasts, your tummy, your thigh, down to your ankle, lifting it to wrap it around his hips.

“Yet while I live

that longing will never leave me.”

His voice faltered as he rocked his hips forward and your bodies were joined once more.

“That longing will never leave me,” he repeated like a vow, eyes serious and warm.

“Nor me,” you pledged, before you lost yourselves in the physical expression of your feelings once more.

~ fin ~

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #mcu loki #loki x you #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x reader smut #loki smut #snow

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alavit · 3 days

Text

Happy Nation (PART I).

Summary: A man will die, but not his ideas. Max’s Delicatessen is a place where only the lowest end, having gave up on solving a problem far too heavy for their shoulders, there— a new comer discovers an old face.

Tags: Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader, Reader is kind of very mentally unwell, Fluff, Chaos, Five needs a hug, Y/n is taller than Five. TW: religious imagery, obsessive behavior from all of the Fives honestly and more to come.

Authors note: my hatred for season 4 can never subdue unless I let it out, since there’s infinite timelines— I found it funny to think of there being one where five dies and y/n is the one who survives but immediately gave up without him.

Side Note: the title is very much taken from Happy Nation by Ace of Base, you can also read this on ao3. I had a lot of fun, the Fives’ dynamics with y/n was my favorite thing to plan out, taglist open! Not beta read.

“You suck at chess, oh my god.” A voice calls out, laughing. “I wasn’t even trying, love, tell him so.” Another answer, this time sat by you, you don’t pay it much mind. Multiple voices come from around you, the usual chatter of the diner now a common scene on the wider canvas that was the mess going on, in itself, you had seen this coming when you agreed to stay there.

Granted, it was incredibly scary at first. But after stepping back and grasping the choices you had, you came to the conclusion that this was better than the alternative— why yes, because mourning? That was not in your chords. Barely allowing yourself to express your feelings had been the cause of your lover’s doom, after-all.

“You’re a sore loser.” You say, watching as he pouts at you and the other party began to laugh— all in good heart, you know he knows. All too happy, they’re all too content with having you here to dare actually be upset with you, for, one’s demise was their ultimate paradise.

You’ve heard countless tales by now, from you dying by the handler to simply you not existing at all in their world. The first day had been a disaster, a chorus of your own confusion and fright upon having stumbled upon the very face you had lost moments prior.

That was scary, thinking back on it— maybe not as scary as them being so infatuated with you but terrifying nonetheless.

“Play against me next, we’ll see if you’re-.” You offer, or well, were going to. Though that offer will have to be fulfilled another time— the sound of the door and the shift of atmosphere never goes unnoticed, especially not by you. You know of a newcomer when you feel it, another confused unfortunate soul. The Fives around you stare at you as you turn around, following your movements as your eyes land on the more than familiar face.

Getting up, you smile at Brisket before heading towards the Five still standing by the door— quickly followed by another one as you open your mouth. “Okay,” you begin. “Don’t freak out, okay? Don’t freak out.” That came across with more panic than you’d have intended.

“You’re the one freaking him out.” Another one joins in and you swear you can feel your eyes twitch. “I’m trying to help, you’re the one not offering the poor boy a seat, don’t antagonize me!” You retort, carefully smiling at the very much confused Five— he looks nothing short of a mess, eyes puffy and frustration etched on his face.

Oh. OH.. you think you know what went down, and, you don’t really like the aforementioned possibility that scenario would bring.

You’re more than sure you’ve died, well, not the you that stands before him and probably is bringing said man so close to the edge but you regardless. You’ve gotten used to it by now, being a compass to a newly awakened Five.

The realization that there’s no saving, early, because you don’t exist in that reality or rather late and even more crushing with the explanation of your death for it— this is not your 28th rodeo, but it sure isn’t your first.

“Hey,” you call out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m okay, you’re okay, dearest.” He wants to choke at the use of the nickname, but he looks slightly more comfortable compared to before.

You think at some point, you offer him a seat— and despite him not truly wanting you to leave, he listens to whatever alternate of him has sat at his table, your attention quickly grabbed by another Five, typical.

“Curious?” One asks you while you hum, offering you a sandwich, you answer with a smile before shrugging. “Aren’t you too?” You retort and he smiles. “Just in the tiniest, he looked crazed seeing you.” You both stare at each other. “-and I think we both have an idea why.” He finishes, ruffling your head as though you are the clueless one here and he is more aware.

Perhaps, he is, you don’t question it.

- -

“Y/n.” You blink, pulled away from the chess game when Five (as in, of course, the new one)— asks to sit by you and by proxy, the others him. God you truly do need to continue attempting in finding them all nicknames. “Yeah,” you agree, lightly smiling, silently indicating that it’s ok.

“Like looking through a mirror, isn’t it?” You joke, disregarding the previous activity before staring at him. “Sorry, by the way for you know— me.” Quickly putting that aside, you’re pinched, whereas the new Five looks concerned the others simply shake his head. “This is normal by the way.” One (Daisy) remarks as he takes a seat, beaming at you.

Daisy might have seemed an odd nickname, but it had made sense to you from the moment your eyes landed on him— like Brisket.

“It’s scary to lose someone.” You sat by Five(?), sliding a sandwich in front of his face as his brows furrowed— he wasn’t hungry, but he doubts you’d let him starve. “I don’t like seeing you like this.” You add, carefully inching your hand close to your face, wiping away a vacant tear.

You hadn’t asked much questions, it felt too odd at the time— but you remember the enthusiasm and speed at which he had agreed to the nickname.

(Rubbing it in the others’ faces that you hadn’t given them a nickname yet. That he got one, though, that went unnoticed by you).

“Mhhh..�� you tapped your fingers on the table, ignoring how intently he had been staring— a smile on your face when you finally met his gaze, grinning.

“Daisy.” You finally said, watching how his expression faltered and inched into confusion for a moment before a small smile overtook his features. “Daisy..?” He echoed, lightly giggling.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “..I need to come up with nicknames for you guys, Brisket is well, Brisket— so you can be Daisy, that’s fine right?” You shyly(?) asked, and he shook his head— humming.

“Daisy it is. Thank you, dearest.”

(And so begin your quest for fitting nicknames, some.. better than others).

“Daisy?” The new Five questions, only met with a soft smile from his alternate— something is fishy about him, unlike a man that possibly as seen horrors— he looks like all he’s ever confronted is having to not help an old lady cross a road. “Daisy.” The owner of the title answers, shaking his head before laughing. “Don’t worry, it sounds weird to the tongue until you get used to it!”

But why Daisy? The new addition ponders, and when said Five sees you’ve been snatched away and are not watching— he answers what the other him seemed to have been questioning.

“You know flower language?” Daisy asks, watching as he’s given a complexed look. “New beginnings, joy.. purity.” Things that shouldn’t be applied to him, to any Five really.

“She thinks that of me, she sees me as one of the brightest of us here.” He proudly adds, before shaking his head. “Let’s get you something to eat, Friend.”

- -

He could never forget her, how sweet everything had seemed despite the odds that brought them together. Daisy had lost everything, he too once was aimlessly trying to save his family and when he found the key to it all, she had vanished with no regards.

That’s how it always begin with every Five, he had been told when he was a newcomer. The price of peace almost always comes with something, a life, your life.

Still, it was all the more disorientating to see you playing chess against.. himself? He had grasped the concept of the diner, but it didn’t make it all the more stressful. “Is that..?” Another one notices, humming while eating a sandwich. “Oh? Yeah, that’s Y/n.” He blankly comments, walking off with a wave. “We don’t really know how the timeline went,” Another Five adds, looking at him. “But she’s here instead of another one of us, a dream come true, nah?”

Maybe.

After a few hours, he had gotten the courage to approach you— you looked roughen up, annoyed and sleep deprived, adjectives that should’ve only applied to him.

You had looked cute nonetheless, you’d always look gorgeous to him, to them.

- -

“You get used to it at some point, trust me.” You lazily sat by the new Five, watching him with amusement before tapping your chin. What nickname could you give him? You wondered. So far, he had shown himself to mentally unwell, excepted after witnessing someone’s death.

(Even more so with the added factor of seeing the very same woman before him, he didn’t seem cheerful like daisy nor carefree like Brisket— but altogether not gloomy like Reaper usually was).

He seemed to follow the flow of things, often needing guidance from the others to understand what he could and couldn’t do here, though honestly, you don’t recall there being rules.

“Sheep.” You settled on, watching as his head tilted to the side— blinking at you with big doe eyes. “Sheep?” He questioned, not noticing how the others perked up— was this something important? He was like a deer in headlights.

“…isn’t sheep a cute name?” Oh. He slightly flushed, nodding before the situation finally settled in.

“It’s okay.” He agreed, watching as you brought your arm around his shoulders— ruffling his hair as you hummed and offered a smile he knew all too well, except this one wasn’t sad, not worried about the upcoming doom that could’ve been met.

He liked this.

“Welcome, Sheep.” You laughed, the greetings echoed by a few others— he wonders how many of them you’ve managed to nickname, surely not all, he’s pleasantly surprised at the fact he got one so early. He feels content.

It brings a sense of individualism, like he’s more than just another version to him— and that’s true, you make sure to remember which one you’re talking to, know almost every Five that hasn’t came to play chess or poker with you.

..it just makes him all the more curious about what happened in your universe, that he doesn’t say, a couple of cards are given his way by another him (Ruby? He thinks?).

“You’re playing too? Dearest?” Another one calls out, and you shake your head— bringing him closer to you, right, your arm around his shoulder.. it’s oddly reassuring.

“Ah! No thanks, i’ll watch you all battle instead.” You joke, whispering in Sheep’s ear, a shiver running down his spine. “Hope you’re not a sore loser like them.”

And he smiles, just the slightest.

Because then, everyone is trying to get you to take that back while others simply smile– the sound of bickering almost comforting, and somehow, he gets it.

This odd way of life brings something, a not so foreign feeling, the same as when he was with you— is right now.

It’s happiness, one brought to him so weirdly, but indeed there.

He wonders how much he can get out of Daisy or Ruby when you’re chatting away, he can’t deny he loves you, whether it’s the mourning or not.

And so, as much as the idea of sharing makes him puke— Five observes, burrowing himself in your warmth as you both lean your heads together.

He feels so warm.

written by alavit — do not translate nor copy my works.

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