#it's always been a last day sprint of like 3-4k words to get it done

[hudders-and-hiddles]

YEAH BINCH

[lailannajacobs]

Call it What it is

Pairing: Loki x reader 

Summary: You and Loki never got along. Yet it doesn’t seem to change the way these missions always end. 

Warnings: Just a whole lotta fluff coming your way! 

Word Count: 2.6k 

A/N: This is my entry for the lovely @wkemeup​ 4k challenge! Congrats love you deserve all the love and more, thank you for letting me participate! Was a blast to write Loki again! Hope you enjoy! <3 

You stumbled, heart racing, but forced yourself to keep running. A shot zinged by your head, missing you by millimetres as it splintered into the brick wall to your left, spitting bits of rock across the alley. You ducked, shielding your face with your with your arm, refusing to slow as you were pelted with the debris. There wasn’t time. If you stopped now, you were dead. Or worse.

Your heart was a hammer in your chest trying to pound its way out, and your whole body screamed at you to stop, your mouth filling with the coppery tang of blood. Only your adrenaline kept you going, each breath harder than the last. So much for taking it easy on your first mission back.

Another blast obliterated all your thoughts and you moved on instinct, swerving to narrowly avoid the bullet aimed at your head. If your leg hadn’t been in a world of pain, you would have turned and fired off a few shots of your own, but you couldn’t risk your leg giving out. Your limp meant that they were gaining on you, and you couldn’t afford to slow down, even if it was to potentially kill one of the Hydra agents on your tail.

You skidded around the corner, praying that the alley wouldn’t lead to a dead end, dooming you to a shootout where the odds would be in their favour, six to one. It was nothing more than a fluke that you could keep going. You had no plan anymore, relying on instinct and luck from the moment your mission had been blown to bits twenty minutes ago. Someone had sold you out. You had walked into a trap, thinking the Hydra buyers had no clue you were really S.H.I.E.L.D. It was a miracle you had made it out, an explosive having gone off that wasn’t one of your own, providing just enough cover to make an escape. You had no idea who the hell had sold you out, but you couldn’t worry about it now. Not as you pushed over trash cans, hoping to create some sort of obstacle, no matter how pathetic.

Whirling around the next corner, you stumbled to a stop at the ten-foot chainlink fence blocking your escape. You swore. Your luck had run out. There was no way you could make it up and over with your leg in the state it was in. You scanned the alley, desperate for an escape that didn’t involve a shootout. Other than the large garbage container, the only other thing around was a beat up Tercel that was too far from the fence to use as an easy way over. You forced yourself to stay calm even if their echoing footsteps were getting closer. Then you noticed him. Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, one ankle crossed over the other, shrouded in the shadows as if he controlled them.

You whipped your dagger at him, knowing there was no faster way of knowing if what you saw was an illusion or if it was real. The chances of him actually being here were high enough that it was worth the risk of losing one of the many knives you had tucked into the folds of your combat suit.

With ease that wasn’t human, his hand snapped up, snatching the dagger from burying itself in his chest.

“You weren’t cleared for duty,” Loki remarked, his eyes dropping to your leg.

You ignored the pointed look, grabbing your gun and aiming it at the corner where the Hydra agents were mere seconds away from turning, “What? Annoyed you got called in on your day off?”

He twirled your dagger between his fingers, pushing off the wall without a word. You didn’t spare him more than a glance as you approached him, only needing to know he was by your side.

You sucked in a breath of surprise when his hand slid along your thigh, placing the dagger into your thigh holster.

“You’ll need it more than I will,” He crooned.

“That’s only because I can’t conjure more every time I lose one. Like some people I know,” You retorted, firing two shots as the first Hydra agent rounded the corner.

He crumpled to the ground, no longer moving, and you waited for the others, knowing they’d now be smarter about how they approached.

“There are five others.” You warned.

You didn’t have to tear your eyes away from the alley to know he had rolled his eyes, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Just do your job and make sure we don’t die.”

“Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?” He drawled, “Dying doesn’t take with me, darling.”

You adjusted your grip on the gun, “Fine. Then make sure I don’t die.”

“I thought you were capable of doing that yourself.”

A rain of fire came down on the two of you, and you dove behind the dumpster, dragging the God of Mischief with you. You leaned your back against the bin, the alley deafening with the blasts of gun shots.

“You’re hit.”

“What?” You fired around the corner, a cry letting you know you’d hit something you’d been hoping to.

You were about to fire off another round when Loki stopped you, the pressure of his fingers hurting far more than it should have, “Your arm.”

“What?” You looked down. Your combat suit was soaked with blood, but it looked like the shot hadn’t done more than graze you, “That’s what happens when you spend more time sassing me than watching my back.”

“You mortals don’t move fast enough,” He snatched your gun from your hands and fired a few shots of his own.

“Take that into consideration the next time you’re watching my back,” You answered, your voice dripping with venom.

You grabbed your gun back, but he shook his head and motioned toward the middle of the alley.

“Let’s not make things more complicated than they have to be, darling.”

Another series of shots seized your attention and you whirled to see what they were now shooting at. An image of Loki stood in the middle of the alley, a machine gun in its hands, pretending to fire at the three Hydra agents that were left. They had unleashed half of their ammo into the open air when someone yelled to cease fire.

Loki cocked his head in a daring gesture that seemed to ask if you ready.

The final shots echoed when you said, “I’m always ready, asshole.”

The two of you sprung from behind the dumpster, taking them by surprise. Your shots were quick and precise, providing cover for the god as he sprinted forward, knives in each of his hands. With predatory grace, he was death in emerald and black as he moved between the agents, finish the job with terrifying speed.

Loki ripped the dagger from the agent’s body and whirled to face you, “You should not have been on this mission.”

“The medic and Steve cleared me for duty,” You growled, “And this wouldn’t have been a problem if someone hadn’t sold me out. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

He strode towards you, stopping only when he was inches away, “What are you implying, mortal?”

You jutted your chin up, doing your best to look down at him despite the height difference, “Don’t ‘mortal’ me you arrogant witch. I’m asking because you have a penchant for chaos and have ears everywhere.

“Even if that were so,” He refused to confirm anything, darkened eyes searching your face, “Why wouldn’t I have said anything?”

You crossed your arms, brushing against his chest as you did, “I don’t know, Mischief, you have been bored lately.”

“This isn’t my idea of fun,” His voice was a dangerous whisper, void of all emotion, “But I will gladly kill whoever it was.”

You shivered involuntarily, “You can do that later. Right now, we need to get out of here.”

“You’re hurt,” He said to your back as you tried not to limp over to inspect the car for damage.

“Doesn’t matter,” You waved a hand. You were pleased when you saw there were only a few superficial bullet holes, “I’ll take care of it when we get out of here. There’ll be cops within minutes and there might be more of Hydra on their way here right now. There’s a safe house about a half hour drive from here, we can assess what to do from there.”

He said nothing, so you figured he agreed with your plan. With nothing to jimmy the lock, your only solution was to break the window. You were walking over to the driver’s side when the glass shattered. Your gun was out, ready for the threat, but it wasn’t necessary.

“What the hell are you doing?” You yelled over the sound of the alarm.

He raised a brow, his expression pure boredom, “Making sure you don’t break your mortal hand,”

“You didn’t have to be an ass about it,” You smacked him on the shoulder, “Give me a heads up next time.”

He stepped aside and you shot him a confused look, “What are you doing?”

“Giving you the chance to prove yourself, mortal.”

You swore and got in, your leg and arm feeling like an old elastic being stretched too far. You shouldn’t have been the one to do this. But the pain from the crouched position and the sound of sirens made it that you hotwired the car faster than you ever had and you tore out of the alley. A cop car raced down in the opposite direction as you pulled onto the street, and your heart lodged itself in your throat. You didn’t need the police on your tail as well as Hydra. Cops didn’t take kindly to dead bodies, even if they were Hydra and had been trying to kill you. Steve was already going to be pissed about such public murders, you didn’t need cops added to the equation.

“Mask the licence plate with a different set of numbers” You ordered, “When go through the tunnel, mask it again with a different set.”

Loki didn’t answer but you knew he would do it. The rest of the ride was silent until you made it far enough out of the city that your adrenaline had made way for anger.

“Can you explain to me why the hell you thought it was necessary to break that window if you weren’t planning on starting the car yourself?” You snarled, “And don’t you dare give me that mortal bullshit. I know you don’t actually care about my hand.”

You had cut it too close getting out of that alley. Setting off that alarm early hadn’t done anything other than alert the cops. Nothing about what had happened made any sense to you and the only thing you could think was that his stupidity could have had far more serious consequences.

“It adds a little excitement,” He chuckled.

“Dammit, Loki,” Your fingers tightened around the steering wheel, “Was it your plan to get me killed?”

He waved a hand, “Stop complaining. You’re fine, darling.”

“You should have hotwired the car yourself.”  

“I preferred not to.”

You sucked in a few deep breaths, counting down your inhales and exhales until all you felt was something that might have been disappointment, “I knew you were reckless and dangerous, but for christ’s sake Loki, you’re not supposed to be a danger to me.”  

There was a long pause, the soft drone of the weather update on the radio filling the silence.

“I can’t,” He muttered, his voice barely audible.

You tore your eyes from the road to spare him a glance, but all you saw was the emotionless mask he wore more often than not, “You can’t what?”

Another long pause, “Hot wire the car.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean you can’t hotwire a car?”

He clenched his jaw and shook his head.

“You can’t be serious?” Despite trying your hardest, you couldn’t fight the smile on your face. Didn’t want to, and a laugh bubbled out. This was the best news you’d had all day. “I’ve seen you do stuff ten times more complicated, but this? Really?”

“Midgaridan transport is crude,” He scowled, “Ask me to hot wire a ship instead.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time we’re in space,” You said, laughing.

The rest of the ride was silent, though you were in a much better mood. And although your arm and leg were throbbing, the knowledge that Loki couldn’t hot wire a car, made it easier to ignore.

You pulled into the driveway, thankful that the drive to the safe house had gone off without a hitch. At least one part of your day hadn’t been a complete bust. You knew if there was anyone you could relay the intel from your mission to it was the Avengers, but the safe house was a better place to lay low, considering you were now someone’s loose end. Walking into the compound could be like walking into a death trap. And there were so many safe houses, and only so many people who knew all of the locations, that being here instead bought you more time to think.

You shut the car door behind you, trying to shut away the million worries running through your mind. You’d take care of your injuries, eat and then figure it all out.

Following Loki up the stairs to the cabin, you couldn’t help but smile once again and try your best not to burst out laughing. When he turned to let you unlock the door - to use the keypad he didn’t have clearance for - he noticed your grin and his eyes darkened.

“I don’t appreciate being laughed at, mortal.”

You groaned, “Again with this mortal crap. Get over it.”

“It is what you are”

You shoved past him to punch in the code, “Doesn’t mean I can’t still put you in your place.”

He put a hand on the doorframe, boxing you in, “Choose your next words very carefully,”

“Why should I?” Turning, you looked up at him with a raised brow, “What are you going to do about it, Loki?”

He stepped forward and you backed up into the door, nowhere else to go.

“Do you want to risk finding out, darling?” He purred.

Tilting your head back, you held his stare, “Try me.”

His emerald eyes darkened, boring into yours. The tension between your bodies was electric and you refused to back down first. He leaned even closer in response to the wordless dare, and your breathing shallowed.

“My point exactly,” You rasped when nothing happened.  

As if your words had broken the spell, his lips smashed against yours, pushing your further into the door as he pressed his body up against yours. You buried your hands in his hair pulling him even closer. He answered with a moan, hands sliding from your jaw, down your neck and all the way down until to your waist. His mouth was rough on yours, taking what he wanted. But you were no gentler on him, demanding entrance with your tongue. He immediately took the lead, a battle of wills neither of you was winning.

A high pitch trill and the vibration in your pocket let you know that someone was calling you.

You pushed him away and pulled out your phone, Steve’s number flashing across the screen.

“We have to stop doing this,” You snapped, ripping open the door and answering the call.

“I can, darling,” Loki crooned with a wolfish grin, just loud enough for you to hear over the sound of Steve’s voice in your ear, “Can you?”

[lonelypond]

Soldier Game: Operation LA Smile, Ch. 3

NicoMaki, Love Live, 4K, 3/?

Nico shouldn’t be nervous. It was her party. Her idea. Her reminder that whatever else was going on in the universe, whatever unappreciative individuals might think of Nico’s charm and abilities, Yazawa Nico could always draw a crowd. With almost no notice. Take that aloof, rich, redheaded sexcapade. Nico didn’t care. Casual came with the territory. Hearts broken all over the globe.

Kotori had done an amazing job with the panther theme, finding huge, stuffed velvet panthers and leopards to scatter across the rooftop terrace under strings and strings of multicolored fairy lights, small brightness against the stunning Tokyo nightscape. Charged by the atmosphere, Nico twirled under the lights to the amusement of the woman setting up the bar. Nico winked. It was always good to appreciate your audience. She adjusted the bow at the neck of her black and gray glitter clouded leopard pattern sleeveless maxi dress. Kotori had a shiny brown jaguar fabric in a shirt tucked into high gold disco glamour trousers. Nico’s see through black stockings with vine texture added to the wild vibe.

Pretty soon, pretty pretty women were going to be screaming to be let in. Nico wondered when the celebrity guests of honor would arrive and then Kotori stepped out onto the roof, Umi on her arm, in a very elegant and modest little black dress, with a fascinating and subtle open knit texture Nico would have killed to design. What would the boxing redhead show up in, Nico wondered? Some more expensive designer than Nico?

###

Think casual. Last night in Tokyo. Eli smiled and bobbed her head at a young woman who couldn’t decide between approaching Eli or joining the swarm around Nico. Eli was enjoying the breeze, the cool darkness. She’d spent all day in their cramped office, having to deal with various government functionaries who did not believe Eli was official enough for the level of clearance she held. She was looking forward to being in the field, making spur of the moment decisions based on reconnaissance and sitreps. She pushed the sleeves of her loose white blazer up, black cigarette pants, and light blue linen shirt completing the outfit. Feather Smile had dressed like the sizzling hot, shine the spotlight here team they were and Umi had chosen her dress with her usual exquisite attention to detail. Eli smiled and leaned on the bar, “Vodka tonic, please.”

“Yes, miss.”

And then there was Maki. Arriving late, as always. Because it wasn’t a truly fashionable party unil Nishikino Maki arrived. The room practically stopped. No conversation as Maki strode through, brazen, confident, shooting dagger sparks if anyone dared glance her way. Maki pulled entire rooms without even trying and tonight, when she was letting the banked down fire burning in her core light those priceless amethyst eyes, there were actual gasps when she walked into a space for the first time. Eli was expecting something designer, but Maki had opted for gym chic?!!!? And then, Nico gestured at the DJ and a song Eli had almost forgotten came over the speaker system.

“Three, two, one, zero! Here's my intro Please look at me; I'm completely serious My thrilling beauty will win, without fail”

Soldier Game. The silly pop single they’d recorded in high school. Umi seemed surprised but smiled when Kotori giggled. Maki whirled, completely red, glaring at Nico, who dismissed her with an offhand wave and went back to being surrounded by a crushing crowd as the song continued. Maki, arms wrapped around her torso, was slouched behind a panther, nearly obscured, her bold energy burst.

Eli took her drink over, “Want this?”

Maki shook her head, cheeks still reddened.

“That’s a real blast from the past. I keep trying to forget it. Those photoshoots.”

“That tiara dug into my skull. I hate photoshoots.” Maki groaned.

“So this assignment will be fun.”

Maki’s nostrils flared. Eli knew she was biting back an ‘only if l get to shoot someone’ comment and kept the conversation going before Maki totally lost her temper.

“Well, you’ve made an entrance anyway.”

Maki scowled, “Now we do small talk?”

“I’ve had a government bureaucracy runaround kind of a day and I just want to stay off my phone, enjoy a breeze, listen to music, and have a few drinks. In order to do that in peace, I have to first make sure you won’t throw anyone off the roof.”

“What did Umi tell you?” Immediate suspicion.

Eli shrugged.

Maki sounded ready to strangle someone, “Just leave me alone, Eli.”

“Fine.” Eli raised a glass in a toast, “But remember why we’re here.”

“Fine.” Maki shoved past Eli. “I’m going to go be a rich brat.”

And she wasn’t even going to have to try, Eli thought as she downed her drink.

###

Nico was sliding across the floor, new, top tier dance moves, to amuse a set of twins, one with pink streaks, one with purple, both with leopard ears topping their hair.

“Nico Ni always dances her way to ideas. And then once Kotori creates them, Nico dances in them, because if cute girls can’t move and breathe in a Feather Smile design, no one but Nico sees it.”

“Do you get your ideas from concerts...or movies...or celebrities?” Pink Streak asked with a giggle. “Or do you just dream them up?”

“Nico only hangs out with the most stylish....”

“Zookeepers?” Maki asked drily as she leaned over the panther, having fueled her courage with double tequila shots. “”S really not innovative, or…” a shrug and the whole panther moved, “interesting really. The feline as an expression of feline…fury...furry...” she blinked, “I mean female sensuality. Overdone. Copied from cooler…” a pause for frantic blinking, “errors...ermines…”Maki couldn’t find the word and had to settle “years...not even rocker chic,” Maki giggled as Nico felt annoyance start to prick and Maki continued, “scraping rocker bottom chick.”

Nico rolled her eyes, Maki was obviously inebriated. She and the streak twins watched as the redhead stood, swayed, and decided she wasn’t finished

“Unless…” Maki leaned forward again, supported by both arms on the stuffed panther, and only a quick shoulder shove by Nico prevented Pink and Purple Streak from having two panthers sprawled all over them, “you’re into that?”

Pink Streak was closer so Nico grabbed those ears, leaned forward, stuck them firmly in sweaty red hair, whispered, “Do you purr?” and watched in amusement as Maki jumped back, dragging the panther with her, and sprinted for a bar.

###

Eli had spent much of the past three days sharing an office with Tojo Nozomi and the only conclusion she had drawn was that Nozomi, as she’d forced Eli to call her, was an enigma, with little hints of tantalizing layers of....mischief occasionally surfacing in those sea green labyrinth of eyes. Having done her duty as a friend to Maki and provided her temperamental compatriot an opportunity to vent off some steam, Eli found herself wondering where Nozomi was at this event. Not at one of the bars on the terrace, or rubbing up against the nearly five foot tall stuffed panthers like so many of the younger dancers, nor, as far as Eli could see, tucked into a corner conversation somewhere. Maybe she was inside, in one of the cool, dark wood alcoves, staring out at the Tokyo nightscape. This was certainly a view worth the price of one of the hotel’s rooms.

Eli wandered back into the bar. Not as many people clumped here, some masked, because now masks were fashionable. Eli had by now thoroughly reviewed the FeatherSmile dossier. They were one of the first companies to develop a gossamer fabric, diaphanous, like a movie genie’s veil, that still cut the dispersion of droplets. Thanks to Yazawa’s connections and innovative demands, FeatherSmile was often on the leading edge of textile tech. No Nozomi here though, veiled or not.

Eli wandered back out, to the high ceilinged open terrace, casually grabbing a handful of chocolate eclairs and macarons, and there was Nozomi, legs pulled up underneath her, in a very formal navy business suit, a floral shirt her only concession to the non office setting, sitting in the very middle of things, on something that in the very middle of furniture and sculpture

Eli, hands full of chocolate, slid in next to her, “You still look like you’re at the office.”

Nozomi smiled, “I am still on the job.”

“What is your job?” Eli couldn’t help it. She was usually good at figuring people out, at knowing who to ask for a briefing, at knowing which paperwork would fill in the sketch of a briefing, but Nozomi, for all that she looked a proper, mid-level bureaucrat, had none of the mid-level bureaucrat paper trail attached to her name or office, which made Eli think there was more going on here than a simple tourist jaunt covering for a drop off.

Nozomi shrugged, “I manage people.”

Another veronica, swing the distracting cape of an answer. Eli bit into a meltingly amazing pastry to consider the next tack to take.

“Ever been to America?”

“Yes. You?”

Eli ate the final, exquisite bite, “I haven’t spent as much time there as Maki. Family business kept me mainly in Russia or Tokyo.”

“Yes, it’s a very unique nexus you three represent: Japan, America, and Russia. Must have been an interesting high school.”

Eli laughed, “It was. I was student council president.”

As if cued, another Soldier Game song played.

“And the high school idol’ing?”

Eli sighed. No more chocolate left. And this was the topic.

Nozomi leaned forward a little, almost touching Eli’s knee, “Sorry, was that too personal? Something you want to forget?”

“No. It’s pretty common knowledge, although most people don’t know the backstory.”

“Backstory?”

“Maki’s drive to compose, Umi’s need to express herself in lyrics, my….”

Nozomi gave off a calming aura, encouraging Eli to talk. This wasn’t top secret info. Nothing was really stopping Eli from sharing. It was just a part of her past she preferred to…

Nozomi had waved a waiter over to break the tension, “Shirley Temple, please. Eli?”

“Vodka tonic.”

“Of course.” The waiter bowed.

“Sorry to push you. We can talk about the lovely view if you’d rather?” There was that mischief as Nozomi’s eyes met hers, and Nozomi giggled. “Or you can tell me if Maki always gets this drunk.”

“Only on tequila.”

“And you?”

“Never on tequila.” Eli laughed and leaned back against a concrete pillar, “I could never crack the upper echelon of Russian ballet schools. So I had something to prove.”

“Ah.”

Eli heard a confirmation in the ‘ah.” So Nozomi had already looked up the story. No real connection here. Price of doing business. Everyone knows more than they say and still fillets you for information. Confirm, look for weaknesses, memorize flaws. Eli suddenly felt worn.

“I’d better check in with Umi.” Eli stood, “I’ll see you on the plane tomorrow.”

Nozomi half rose, startled, but then settled back down, hands composed in her lap, “Of course. I hope you get some rest, Eli.”

Eli’s name sounded flat as Nozomi said it, but Eli still smiled and returned the courtesy, “I hope you can manage some off the job time.”

Nozomi shrugged. Eli turned away. Chocolate first, then Umi, then sleep. It had been too long a day.

###

Maki glared, then threw back the tequila shot she’d been carrying. Florrie’s ‘Begging Me’ was echoing and she wondered exactly how much control Nico had exerted over the DJ’s playlist. Long Island Iced Tea next, this was a Long Island Iced Tea night.

She marched up to the bartender, demanded the drink, took the bare minimum amount of time to drink it down through a cold metal straw, lips nearly frozen. A little buzzy, a little daring, feeling the need to just…

Everyone not actively chatting up a potential partner in the low lighting, dark wood interior of the bar had spilled out onto the roof, where with no time at all, Feather Smile had set up a sort of prowling fur extravaganza, huge velvet panthers and leopards arrayed in clusters, doubling as seating, people leaning or riding on them, a bar at either end of the terrace. The lights of Tokyo were everywhere there weren’t stars or fairy lights and Maki took a deep breath, trying to just check out of the party scene and let the lights and movement scatter her looping thoughts. It was usually a very solid escape plan, but just as her shoulders relaxed, someone giggled, “Oh, Nico, that tickles” and Maki spun to see Nico leaning over a woman leaning back into a velvet black panther, the woman’s shirt off, her see through black lace bra shimmering darkly. Nico had a metallic pen and finished off her signature with a flourish. And a kiss on the fabric to seal it.

Another giggle. And something whispered. And Nico leaning over the woman to whisper a reply. Maki headed back to the bartender who’d done her marginally satisfying Long Island Ice Tea.

“Make it better this time or I’ll make sure you’re fired.” Maki snapped.

The bartender bowed, “Of course. I’m so sorry the last one was not satisfying.”

“More tequila.”

Umi’s voice cut in, “Whatever she’s having, make it with less tequila. Cute ears by the way.”

Maki reached up and ripped the Nico tainted accessory out of her hair.

Umi leaned on the bar, shaking her head at Maki. “You have to stop getting random staffers fired. People won’t like you.”

“People,” Maki couldn’t help that her glance went to Nico, “Don’t like me now.”

Nico had her arms around a woman’s waist and they were swaying to music that was too sexy to be swaying to in public. Maki pushed herself off the bar, but Umi caught her arm.

“Weapons.” Umi demanded.

Maki waved her hands down the length of her torso. Her side slashed, short, armless tunic covering a sports bra, offered a view of her torso that showed no hidden armament. Her form fitting shorts also proved that there was nothing unnatural about any of the curves the fabric was clinging to. “I just want to dance.”

Visual check cleared, Umi offered Maki the terrace, “Enjoy.”

Maki’s eyes burned with fierce intensity, ‘I plan to.”

And a mellow song, Surf Mesa’s "ILY", rolled but there was nothing mellow about the way Maki walked into the center of the terrace, threw out her arms, closed her eyes, and started mouthing “I love you, baby” as Emilie did, arms raising, wrists crossed over each other, muscle pulses so tight that it seemed like her whole torso was throbbing as she circled her abdomen, thrusting her hips incrementally forward, flexing her knees to crouch down to bounce up, tossing her hair back in near slow motion and red strands flamed in the pattern of flashes that suddenly surrounded her as everyone pulled out their phone, images of Maki lost in a blur, not captive, as the Tokyo nightscape provided a brilliant, blinding backdrop.

###

Nico did not like the speculative, predatory look in Kotori’s eye. She was very familiar with it and they had a strict first seen, first claimed agreement that Nico’s boxing ring encounter with Maki certainly would have invoked but Nico did not want to be so open about her...there was no right word..interest, annoyance, remembering her most recent encounter with Maki, Nico laughed at herself and decided animal attraction was probably the truest.

With so much attention on Maki and the terrace full of dark patches, Nico and Kotori had found a moment to meet. Kotori was leaning into her elbows, watching Maki, idly twisting the straw in her drink.

“Don’t you have a very stylish samurai stashed somewhere?” Nico decided on a diversionary tactic.

Nico knew her partner very well. Kotori turned away from watching Maki, with a squeal, “Did you see that dress, Nico? And the texture, exquisite, I couldn’t rip my hands away. I just want to take it off her so I can see how they did that open knit.”

Nico leaned into obvious, with a snort, “That’s not the only reason.”

Kotori arched an eyebrow, “I never discuss proprietary tactics, Nico.”

Nico chuckled, ‘Well, there seem to be a few other people interested in that…” Nico paused and pointed over her shoulder to where Umi was walled off by a crowd of women fascinated by the most inscrutable member of Soldier Game, now that Maki had decided to dry heave near a plant, “dress.”

Kotori’s lips twisted and anger flared briefly in now cold golden eyes, “I’ll see if Umi-chan wants to sit and sip some champagne.”

Nico was watching Maki run shaky fingers through her hair and slap herself on the cheeks. “And I’ll get the dancing started up again.”

###

Eli leaving had left Nozomi unsettled. So she took her Shirley Temple in hand and decided to roam. Her first target, Nico, who was once again somehow not being crushed by a crowd of young women demanding Nico sign their bras with her private contact info. Nico’s flirt style was an art, all wink and dash, never lingering, but always making a connection. Eager, thirsty eyes followed her everywhere. Nozomi was impressed by the range of her charisma and how professionally in stride Nico took the adoration.

“Care to sign something a little less personal for me?” Nozomi asked when Nico spun into her zone.

Nico demurred. “Nico always needs a treat.” A completely outrageous wink as Nico moved to the next young woman, who had unbuttoned her blouse, exposing ample curves that almost escaped their lacy lilac support, “Hi. Nico Ni wants to know. What’s your name and favorite color?”

“Oki and Green.” The blonde woman flushed as Nico let the pen linger a little.

“Nico will design a holiday set to showcase these memorable curves.” NIco finished her signature with a flourish, “Look for it. Nico thinks Santa will bring a good girl like you, Oki, a very special set.”

“Don’t talk about Santa like that.” An angry voice interrupted.

“Maki! We haven’t had a chance to talk all night.” Nozomi stepped in, trying to divert Maki and guide her away by the elbow, but the riled up heiress brushed off any restraint.

Maki had one target in her laser focused sights. Nico. “Don’t use Santa as a shill for your lingerie.”

Nico winked at the blonde, before answering Maki, “Nico got all her elf paperwork in on time last year. Completely certified to deliver North Pole approved presents. Ask half of Tokyo.”

“Ask Santa.” Maki’s fist were clenched. Nico had no idea why she was in the middle of a fight about two beloved holiday traditions, Santa Claus and FeatherSmile’s Christmas Cuddle lingerie line, but Maki had once again impulsively shoved them both into something unexpected.

“Okay, Nico will.” Nico took her pen and started to write a note on her arm, but Maki grabbed the pen and wrote a number on Nico’s arm as she spoke.

“Text me when he tells you you’re officially on the naughty list.” Maki snorted, “I want to laugh at you.”

This was an incredibly strange way to get the number of the hot, crazy girl she’d already had sex with. But Nico could roll with anything. That was her real superpower. And why she was so good at ALL of her jobs.

But before Nico could retort, Nozomi took the pen and wrote a number under Maki’s on Nico’s arm, “Text me too.”

The blonde giggled. Nozomi smirked at her, and leaned down to whisper, “I’d like to see green on you. Can I get you a drink? I have a Christmas at the South Pole story that you’ll never forget.”

And that left Nico with the glaring Maki. The crowd had been repelled by the waves of fury rolling off Maki. Nico sighed, “What are we really fighting about?”

“Santa.” Maki said stubbornly.

“It’s June, Nico loves Christmas, but Nico was planning to think about the beach and bikinis for at least a week.”

Maki crossed her arms over her torso as another Soldier Game song came over the speakers. “Did you have to play them?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“People expect it.” Nico listened for a verse, “Plus, they’re catchy. You sound good. You wrote the music, right?”

“Composed.”

“Wrote, composed…”

Maki leaned very much into Nico’s face, blinking, “Sewed, painted, same thing, right?”

“Fine. Nico will use the right words. Do you still compose?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What do you want to talk about?” Nico opened her arms to the room, “Nico has adoring fans eager for a few minutes of her time and your minutes,” Nico glanced at her watch, “are up.”

Maki pulled back. “I don’t want to talk.”

Nico stepped close, and could feel Maki tense at the proximity, “Well, Nico does have a suite reserved if you really need some…”

“Stop.” Maki’s hands shot out, Nico guessed to push Nico away, but they just lingered on her shoulders.

“Well, if you want to dance, Nico never disappoints a pretty lady.” And Nico dropped both hands to Maki’s waist, pulling her in, and starting to sway as the tempo of the music slowed. Maki shadowed the motion, her eyes closing, for a minute and then she froze, eyes wide open, looking down at Nico in horror.

“Um...why...no…I have to…”

“Run?” Nico suggested, her tone teasing.

Maki’s wry smile, full of unguarded charm, was a change of mood more surprising than anything that had happened to Nico so far, “How’d you guess?”

Nico was getting intrigued. This wasn’t the plan. But Nico always had a stock answer, “Nico knows.”

“Santa knows. Nico fakes it.” Almost a playful growl.

“Still on Santa? Did I mention June?” Nico decided to pull Maki close enough that their hips were bumping. “And nothing Nico does is faked.” Nico dropped her voice, closing in on Maki’s ear, “Don’t you remember?”

Full, complete flush. WIld blinking. Nico had a sudden inspiration and released Maki’s waist. “Thanks for your number. Nico might call you, if you’re lucky,”

With a frustrated growl, Maki suddenly had both hands in her own hair, rough tearing it, and Nico wanted to feel the texture so bad it took enormous physical effort to hold her hands back. Then Maki was standing straight again, so tall, slashed tunic showing muscle and tan and curves, a sexy dream fuel snarl mouthing words that took Nico a few seconds to actually register the foreignness of, “Da parte mia, ritengo che sia meglio essere avventurosi che cauti, perché la fortuna è una donna.”

Was that Italian? How many languages did Maki speak? Nico decided she needed less homework not more as Maki walked away from her, a tequila induced sway threatening to tilt her into a bystander.

####

Hanayo glanced away from the FeatherSmile party livestream. If she’d been there, she would have been a mouse in a quiet corner. She couldn’t hear anything but the music but the party was still almost as engaging as a good Korean drama. Hanayo enjoyed watching the women move in and out of conversation groups, dancing, leaning into close, cozy chats that Hanayo could imagine might result in even cozier conversations. Nico was a blur of motion and charisma, Kotori cool and calm and centered as she glided everywhere, from woman to woman, a quick kiss on so many cheeks, a sly smile when no one was looking but the camera. Hanayo wondered what it would be like to be in the same room with them.

She glanced at the small chat window on her business phone. Her agricultural contacts wanted an in person meeting coinciding with her FeatherSmile obligations. She opened a text window on her laptop. Nozomi had warned her about something like this happening.

A/N: The Italian is a quote from Machiavelli: "For my part I consider that it is better to be adventurous than cautious, because fortune is a woman."Hi.

[gotboredwrote]

Role Reversal // GL!JFM

Pairing: Gardner Langway x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4K Style: Sequel (Part Two of Anchored, But Irradiated) Warnings: Broken bones, so much fluff you might feel sick by the end of it Summary: Y/N and Gardner go on that date they talked about, but something happens to Y/N and there’s only one person qualified to help her out. He isn’t qualified on the medical credentials, but he’s the only one who could do the job. Permanent Author’s Note: To clarify, I write because I get bored. Nothing is meant to be professional in any way, nor is meant to offend, cause anxiety, cause anger, cause sadness, or promote disagreement among readers in any sort of (semi)permanent way. A/N: Request from @took-me-hours-to-steal-those​ ! The first unprompted request I’ve ever gotten! So, I’m very thankful for you, hon! I hope this is what you hoped for! ALSO �� if you have not read part one of this, this may not make sense at first. There’s buildup to this point and background there, so I highly suggest you give that a read first, friends.

Masterlist // Part 1

~

It was hard to tell if Gardner truly understood what an actual “date” was, because the two of you had gone on his route while he was in his cast together almost every single day. But nonetheless, it was special. It was special because it was Gardner, and he was happy that you kept your vow to remain close to him. You could tell it made him happy – he was not really good at hiding his feelings, but you found that extremely endearing.

Regarding his emotions, he was not super happy when you were assigned a new person to take care of in the way that you did for him. To you, it meant proof of a steady job and some money, which you needed pretty bad, just like most people in the world. To Gardner, though, it meant less time to spend with him. He wanted to keep spending time with you like you had when he was injured. He wanted to keep cooking in Calvin’s kitchen. He wanted to keep sharing his nuggets of wisdom about each crack in the sidewalk with you. He wanted to show you his newest stamps, and most of all, he wanted to tell you how much you meant to him.

And if it was not for Nettie, he could have done all those things.

Knock knock.

…

The pastel pink door to the small cottage slowly creaked open revealing a small, gentle older gentleman of about 85 years of age. Standing there in your olive-green scrubs, you offered him a large smile, which he reciprocated in his own, less-exuberant way.

“Mr. Thompson?”

“Hello there, dear. Would you be Y/Wrong/N?”

“It’s Y/N, but yes, I am here from the hospital to help your wife, Nettie, right?”

“Oh, my apologies, dearie. Yes, Nettie. Took a nasty fall, hit her head. Has trouble doing anything without getting dizzy right now and my muscles aren’t what they used to be. Not what attracted her to me, at least.” You offered him a laugh, and he stood to the side of the door as if to let you in. “She’s upstairs waiting for you, please come in.”

You thanked him, and you walked past him into their home, which was all painted in pastels and had knickknacks all around from the years of travel it appeared they did. He pointed you to the kitchen where you dropped off Nettie’s paperwork and your personal bag, taking your medicine bag upstairs. Your medicine bag was actually a gift from Gardner. He had a retired doctor on his route, and he constantly saw Gardner walking with you in your scrubs, so he offered his old-fashioned house-call bag to him to give you. You had not stopped using it since the day he gave it to you.

No longer in the presence of her husband, you made your way up to their bedroom where he told you she would be. You knocked gently, but heard no response. You knocked again. Hearing no response again, you lightly pushed the door open to see Nettie sitting on one side of their shared bed, not facing the door, seemingly looking out the window.

Had you noticed the hearing aids sitting on the bedside table, you would have never done what you did. Alas, you did not notice them and grabbed her shoulder to get her attention. It was the first genuine mistake you had made as a nurse.

“Miss Nettie? I’m here to—”

Then you felt a large pressure on your wrist, and the next thing you knew, you were doubled over on the floor next to the foot of her bed. You were half moaning, half screaming at the searing, sharp pain radiating through your wrist and shooting up your arm. Somehow, this 80-something old woman had gotten so riled up by you touching her shoulder all of a sudden that she mustered up the strength to shatter a handful of bones in your wrist. His husband heard the commotion coming from the bedroom, which now included yells from Nettie herself, and as fast as he could made his way into their bedroom.

“What’s going on?”

“Reggie, who is this woman? Why is she in our house? Did you know she was here?”

“Nettie, it’s okay. This is Y/N, she’s the nurse who’s going to be helping you balance while you try to do things around the house and in town.” He looked down at you, still whimpering on the floor from the pain that did not seem to get any better. “Well, I’m not so sure she’ll be helping you now.”

~

Whenever you work somewhere, you never really expect to be on the receiving end of the situation. Especially you, because you worked at a hospital, so if you were on the receiving end, that meant something was wrong. You had visual proof of that looking down at your light blue cast – a color you had admitted you chose for Gardner’s sake. Your supervisor and all your nurse friends crowded in your room and looked at you sheepishly.

“What? How was I supposed to know an 80-year-old lady had the strength to latch onto me, let along break my wrist?”

The x-ray tech came in and placed the shot on the viewer. Everyone in the room winced at how shattered your wrist appeared to be.

“Well… somehow that lady managed to grab you in a way that broke all but one of the bones in your wrist. I think you know the drill for how this goes. Don’t get the cast wet, have someone help you as much as possible, and if you decide to come into work, you’ll be with someone who can help you do stuff. Do you know who can help you?”

“Yeah, I think I know someone.”

Carefully, you drove your car home, considering you only really have the use of one hand because your cast went from your hand to your elbow. Once home, you never even went inside. You walked through your neighborhood about 4 blocks or so until you saw the familiar boat that made you all too warm inside. You were about to walk up to the side of it and knock on it, when a familiar voice called out to you.

“He’s on his route right now, won’t be back for a while!”

Calvin, in his robe, pan with something sizzling inside it. A familiar site, considering your days with Gardner before usually were about 12 hours or more.

“Woah, what happened to our favorite nurse, girlfriend? Oh, well maybe I shouldn’t call you that. Gardner might question what it is you two have.”            

“We’ve been on one date, Cal.”

“Are you denying that you want to be his girlfriend?”

“…” You had not really thought about it. Well, you had, but the one time you went on a date with him, it just felt like you were back at work again because you had to do that while he was injured. You refused to put any thought into the idea that you and Gardner could date until after the work situation was over. And here you were, standing on his doorstep about to ask him to do the exact same thing you did for him.

“Well, I can see you’re pretty lost in your thoughts right now, girly. Did you want to come inside for some breakfast? You can stay here and wait for him to come home, we have tons of movies you could watch.”

“I wouldn’t be intruding?”

“Absolutely not. I’ll be at the shop all afternoon, despite it being Saturday, but you have my cell number, so you can always call me if there’s something you can’t find or need.”

“Thanks, Cal. This means a lot to me.”

“Again, it’s no trouble. And I’m sure Gardner will be thrilled to see you.”

You walked into the all-too familiar home, memories of the showers and sponge baths you gave Gardner flooding into your mind. You felt happy thinking about them, at peace. Not even recognizing the pain in your wrist. Endorphins rushing through you at a mile a minute. Calvin fixed a plate for you, one that consisted of what you remembered were his favorites – bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, and an everything bagel. He always made a sandwich, you remembered, so when you asked him to make you one just like he always did, his eyes lit up. It made him happy that you did not just pay attention to Gardner, that he mattered just as much.

You ate the sandwich as best you could with one hand, using a fork to eat the remaining bits that fell. Calvin cleaned up after both of you, and scurried upstairs to change, pointing you in the direction of their living room so you could get comfy. You chose a couple movies they had on DVD, a couple you had not seen before, and choosing an old favorite – Jurassic Park. The little boy, Tim, reminded you of Gardner in some ways. He looked a bit like him, too.

Before you could get up to grab yourself a drink and put a movie in, you heard Calvin sprint down the stairs and nearly fall down the last 5 steps.

“Don’t you dare get up – I’ll get what you need before I leave. Whatcha looking for?”

“Just a drink, thank you.”

“Water or some other beverage?”

“Tea, if you have it, actually.”

“Coming right up.”

With that, you settled back down into your comfortable position on the couch, snuggled in a blanket they had draped over the back of the couch. After about 3 minutes, Calvin came back into the living room and placed the mug down next to you. A USPS mug of all things. He saw you had some DVD’s picked out, Jurassic Park on top, so he popped that in for you and started it. As he started walking out the door to go to the shop he turned around and told you something.

“Gardner actually brought that mug home for you. For you to keep here. He really wants you to spend time here, you know. He really likes you, Y/N.”

You felt your face flush but did not turn to look at Calvin. All you did was listen to the sound of his voice fade out and the classic sounds of John Williams fade in.

~

You did not have a guess as to when you fell asleep, but you were gently startled awake because you heard the door opening. You expected Calvin to walk through the door, but when your eyes adjusted to the light entering your eyes, you saw a lot of blue and a large bag slung over a shoulder. You also saw a safari cap of sorts.

It was your favorite mail carrier.

And he looked so terrified that you were just sleeping on their couch. He had so many questions about the situation, but he pushed them aside. He walked over to your side and watched as you stretched and smiled gently up at him.

“Thanks for the mug, Gardner.”

“What?”

“Calvin told me you brought this here for me to use. Thanks. And I accept the invitation to come over more often. Especially now, because I actually have a pretty large favor to ask of you.” Your arm was still hidden underneath the blanket, so Gardner had no idea what he was about to see. When you raised your arm from behind the blanket, Gardner’s eyes went wide with concern and instantly he dropped to the floor by your side, grasping your arm a little bit more roughly than he should have. He heard you wince in pain and instantly retracted his arms.

“Sorry, s-sorry…”

“It’s okay. This is actually what I wanted to ask you about, Gardner. I kind of…need us to switch roles for a few weeks.”

“You want to be a mail ca—”

“No lovebug, I need you to take care of me like I did for you while you had your cast on. Think you can do it if I walk you through it?”

Gardner simply nodded his head, and then the two of you looked to the door which was opening to reveal an exhausted looking Calvin. He just waved at the two of you and trudged upstairs to shower, so he could then move on to making dinner. After watching him make his way up the stairs, Gardner broke you from your thoughts.

“Have you been here all day?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I was thinking it was Sunday and you would have been home. I forgot what day it was and…”

“And?”

“And… I was really hoping you would help me.”

Gardner looked at you funnily. “I already agreed to—”

“I know you did. But I don’t know if you’re grasping the intensity of what I’m asking you to do. You’re going to have to do practically everything I did for you, with the exception of pushing me around in a wheelchair.” Now Gardner looked nervous, and instantly you felt horribly guilty. “Gardner, I can ask one of the nurses, I’m sorry. I just thought it would be a good excuse to hang out with you again.”

“I can do it.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I can do it.”

You felt warm. Giddy. Thankful that Gardner walked – well, tripped – into your life.

~

Calvin, despite how tired he was, managed to make a really good dinner for the three of you. Afterwards, you began to realize that Gardner was taking what you said to him very literally. Gardner insisted that you stay with him on the boat because you stayed with him when he was hurt. He insisted that he be the one to help you with anything involving your hands. Which translated into needing a shower. You had worked a night shift before having to go over to Nettie’s house this morning, which felt like a lifetime ago already, so you felt grimy. But you realized all your stuff was at home, Gardner did not drive, and you smelled.

“Hey, Gardner?”

He poked his head around the wall from the kitchen where he was making you another cup of tea. He had made sure you were sat right back where he found you after dinner so you did not exert more energy than necessary.

“I, uh… I need to shower. And I need pajamas for tonight and clothes for tomorrow.”

“I’ll wash your hair, and you can borrow my stuff for tonight. I still have those clothes you wore that first night. When you wanted less laundry to do.”

You just looked at him and hoped that he either could not see how hard your heart was beating, or that he was just as nervous as you.

The latter was true.

For some reason, this felt way more intimate than the first time, the minute you walked into his bathroom. A familiar room. You should not feel this nervous. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you were going to have to take the top layer of your scrubs off in front of him. Maybe it was the fact that he was going to be yanking on your hair – something you realized you might like because of the way he reacted when you did it to him. Maybe it was the fact that the two of you had gone on a date but had not yet established what this relationship of yours really was. Or kissed.

Gardner had a very good knack for taking you out of your thoughts, because the water from the spicket started cascading into the tub, loudly. And instantly your skin was red hot. Gardner was kneeling beside the tub checking the water, waiting for you to tell him what to do. You shakily unbuttoned your scrubs top and let the fabric fall from your shoulders. You were staring right at Gardner while you did so, and he was doing the same. All you had on now was a white tank top. He watched as you loosened your hair from how you had it, letting is cascade down just like the water. Then, before you realized it, you could feel the cold ceramic of the tub on your upper back, head hanging over the side of the tub. You looked up at Gardner who was as stiff as a piece of plywood. You reached up to hold his face and turn it to yours.

“Hey, hon, it’s just me. We’ve been in this position before. This isn’t weird, okay? All you have to do is wash my hair like you would wash your own. Think you can do that?”

He nodded his head, eyes shining and boring right into your own. There was something behind those eyes, you just could not place it.

“Plus, it’ll be kind of funny – I’ll smell like you because of the shampoo!”

Gardner pried his eyes away from your own to start letting the water run down your hair. It felt nice to have someone do this for you. You had not been to a hairdresser in a long time, so this was as close as you were going to get.

Gardner watched as the droplets of water streaked down your hair, now a couple shades darker. It was mesmerizing to him, how smoothly they moved. Then he looked to your face – completely at ease, no tension, just enjoying the warmth. Almost…blissed out. Then he realized that your hair was far beyond being drenched enough, so he carefully placed the showerhead down into the tub and reached for his shampoo. Initially, he only put the amount he would use on his hand, ever so literal he was, and then he made up the difference for your much longer hair.

“I’m… going to start putting the shampoo in.”

“Mmm.” All you could offer was a hum. You genuinely felt like you looked. As soon as Gardner had started the process, your nerves faded. His on the other hand, were just getting worse and worse.

Then, his hands were working the shampoo from your roots to your ends. At first, he quite literally just used his flat hands and moved from the top to the bottom, but then he realized that is not exactly how one washes hair. So, he began to use his fingers a little bit more carefully. Running them through, detangling.

Pulling.

And your suspicions were confirmed. A noise left your lips that were so desperately terrified would escape, and instantly Gardner’s hands retracted. He held his hands up like he had a gun pointed at him, not caring that they were dripping all over himself, and looked at you widely.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, hon…feels good.”

Somehow, the manner and tone with which you said that urged him to keep going. After all, the soap had to get out sometime. He worked the remaining streams of shampoo into your hair, and then rinsed off his hands so he could wash out your hair. All the meanwhile small huffs of air escaped your lips with every pull and stroke down your hair. You understood now how Gardner could not control his reaction – you were doing the exact same thing. All the while wondering to yourself ‘what is this that we have?’

Then you heard the water shut off, and Gardner reached back for a towel. He was sitting back on his knees waiting for you to sit up, with the towel placed gingerly over his hands which were extended in front of him.

“Oh, look at you, lovebug! I didn’t even have to tell you what was next.”

He continued to look right at you with determination and… that other thing you still could not pinpoint. Regardless, you sat up and leaned straight against the bathtub. You looked at him wistfully, somewhat tired from the warmth, and he took that as a cue to toss the towel over your head. He was not quite sure how to properly towel-dry hair, but he did his best. Something he did, though, earned him another noise. One much more intense than the others. It stopped him dead in his tracks. The towel had been covering your face, so he did not get to see the face you made before, but slowly he removed the towel from your face and leaving it atop your head.

You were either embarrassed or turned-on, Gardner could tell that much. He was not experienced but he knew those two emotions. He had felt both when he was in your boat a little while back. In a very unlike Gardner move, he just decided to hope that it was the latter of the two options.

Soft. That was the first thing you noticed about them. They were relatively plump for someone like him, and very soft. They also moved against your own like they had more experience than they let on, but you knew from previous conversations with the boy that he had no real experience other than a childhood one when he was about seven.

So, you could not help but wonder, where in the world did this massive smacker he was currently laying on you come from? And why?

Not that you minded, of course.

At first, he was still. Clearly unsure of whether or not you were kissing him back, or if you hated every millisecond of this. His eyes were pressed shut so tight he was starting to see those little colors you see when your eyes go berserk. But then he felt it. Motion not coming from his own mouth. You were kissing him back.

He had no idea what it was to do, so he let his natural instinct take over. His mouth started to move with yours, against your motions, trying to feel every single inch of space your lips had to offer. After a few moments, it became more than just lips, mouths barely opening to simply feel more of each other. He was still holding onto the towel – you could tell simply because the pressure on your head was increasing with each passing moment, signaling to you that he was holding onto it for dear life. Then, the pressure moved away. His hands moved somewhere else. But it was not your body.

He had placed his hands onto the edge of the tub to ground himself and give him somewhere to balance. You could feel his body shift. He moved over top of you, your head leaning back a bit from the height difference. And the feeling on your lips was more intense. More passionate. Deeper, slower. He was putting every fiber of his being into this kiss as if it were the only time he would ever get the chance. You placed your good hand into his hair, lightly pulling just the way you learned he liked, and instantly he melted into you.

So much so that the hands that he had on the tub had finally realized they had water under them and decided to slip backwards into the tub. Now with nothing to hold him up, Gardner’s entire body came crashing down into yours, the only exception being that you got your hands up to his face in time so your heads did not collide.

Both of you were breathing in heavily, right into each other’s ears and necks. But, ever the silence-breaker, you heard his breathing hitch before hearing his voice.

“That cast feels funny.”

You simply pulled your head back to look at him and playfully smirked at him. His eyes were blown black, and his cheeks were bright red. It was a sight you loved. He spoke again.

“Can we go to bed now?”

“On two conditions.”

He simply gave you a questioning look.

“You have to promise to show me that new stamp you were telling me about when we get down there, and you have to promise to do exactly what you just did for a long time.”

Permanent Taglist: @bensrhapsody @chlobo6 @gardnerlangway @xtrashmammalstefx @bohemiandeakyy

Gardner Langway Taglist: @gardnerlangway

Request: @took-me-hours-to-steal-those

// If you want to be added to either taglist mentioned above, or the one for another character I’ve written for, send me an ask here! //

[delineative]

writing year in review: 2018

total number of completed stories: 9

total word count:

ao3: 43 879

(+ ~5k on socks)

fandoms written in:

dorohedoro

we both chose each other - noi/shin

houseki no kuni

growing without rest - phos/phos

idol producer / nine percent

counting flower petals all day long - xukun/zhengting

leaving nothing behind - xukun/zhengting

when we see each other again - jun/zhengting, ziyi/zhengting, yanjun/zhangjing/zhengting, xukun/zhengting, justin/chengcheng/zhengting

take one step closer - xukun/yanjun/zhengting

nct

from first principles - 00line

produce 101 china / rocket girls

coincidence makes sense - yamy/meiqi/xuanyi

seventeen

the earth in its turning stopped (last 2 chapters) - seungcheol/jeonghan/joshua

reaching for you from the endless dream - wonwoo/jun

wips:

out of the wips i’m currently working on:

dirtmix assignment (will be revealed very shortly!)

nahyuck pacific rim au

markrenmin enemies to lovers fantasy au

looking back, did you expect to write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?

around what i expected... i was aiming for 1 fic a month and didn’t quite manage to hit that but i feel like each fic was longer than usual (i’m a terminal shortfic writer so anything over 3k is long for me). like i kept going 1-4k over my projected wordcount which was extremely panic-inducing when i was trying to write to deadlines lmao so overall i’m okay with the quantity of words i produced this year!

what pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January?

fandom-wise probably the survival show spiral and moving into ncity... if 2017 was the year of yugioh then 2018 was the year of rpf. some of the stuff i posted to socks was very uncharacteristic of my usual m.o but i think everything i put on main was very true to brand i.e ambiguous relationships + vague pining + emo conversations in the dark

did you take any writing risks this year? what did you learn from them?

i signed up for svtbb and had to drop out due to exam pressure, which was sad bc it’s the first exchange/fest i’ve ever defaulted on, but then i went and did lordeventeen and yuletide even though they partly ran through exam seasons too so i guess i learned nothing?!?

actually i think i probably could have afforded to take a few more risks genre-wise, i feel like everything i wrote in 2018 recycled the exact same themes but also at the same time those themes are the only thing i can write. terrible taste i will never change i will never improve that is a promise etc etc

what’s your own favorite story of the year?

reaching for you from the endless dream had me tearing my hair out while i was writing it but ultimately i feel like it paid off! i’ve always wanted to try canon compliant + magic and this ended up with some of the best writing i’ve ever done, plus i’m happy i was finally able to write something for one of my favourite svt ships <3 honourable mention to the concept behind when we see each other again, my post-disbandment allzzt ship manifesto titled after csc_uri_dasi_bol_ttae.mp3 

best story of the year?

also reaching for you from the endless dream! i’m really proud of how this one turned out both in terms of technical quality (.... *repeats the same phrase 300 times* Is This Thematic Consistency?) and emotional beats, and it got so many lovely comments. i think this is probably one of my best fics ever, and i’m glad it struck a chord with other people too!

most popular story of the year?

not counting teiits since most of that was posted in 2017, it’s counting flower petals all day long, which really surprised me when i checked my ao3 stats? i must have hit the sweet spot of fandom growth + burgeoning ship popularity bc literally nothing happens in the fic other than one (1) kiss, but thank you for giving it so much love 💖

story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

omg i think everything i wrote this year was WAY over-appreciated but coincidence makes sense, which features a f/f/f rarepair (raretrio?) in a fandom with very little western fan presence, so i’m not surprised by its stats but i’m still pretty fond of this one and consider it one of the better fics i wrote in 2018, and one of the best idolverse fics i’ve ever written

most fun story to write:

from first principles, the debate au fic i’ve wanted to write for like 6 years, my beloved pet project through the month of august, and i think it shows? i tripled my projected word count and in the process of writing fully converted to dreamyism(/renjunism), so a lot of love went into it, even though there are places you can tell i definitely rushed the execution. one day i’ll do justice to a proper nct sports anime fic... 

story with the single sexiest moment:

all the rated content i wrote this year was posted to socks other than the brief dance studio 3some scene in take one step closer, but i genuinely have no idea if that was even sxc since i wrote it on my phone in a feverish last-minute sprint on a plane while blasting twice bdz and haven’t reread it at all jhfgdfjdfh

most sweet story:

the general tone of everything i wrote in 2018 was much less depressing than 2017 but i guess the sweetest story was we both chose each other... what’s more romantic than dismembering a bunch of thugs with your beloved partner and then jumping off a cliff together!!

story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters:

kind of a weird question to apply to rpf... characterisation perceptions are constantly shifting based on current meta and au role needs, though i feel like i’m always struggling to play catchup and by the time i publish anything the general image has shifted ;__; 

most unintentionally telling story:

from first principles draws heavily on my own experiences with high school debating... lots of 3rd speaker related anxieties and hangups projection all over the place in there lmao

hardest story to write:

every time i’m working on something, especially when i’m close to finishing, it is the hardest thing i have ever written... i can’t remember if writing has always been this difficult for me or if it’s an rpf thing. probably i struggled the most with reaching for you from the endless dream bc i’m deeply intimidated by writing jun (light of my life) due to the fear of not doing him justice, and also the deadline pressure nearly killed me. also at one point i called writing from first principles the worst experience of my life but looking back it wasn’t even that bad... mostly it was just that it kept getting longer and longer and eventually i was like Please God Let It End Already

biggest disappointment:

not finishing my svtbb fic... i am literally twitter user juncheolsoo i owe them SOMETHING!! not writing more fic. mediocre execution of decent concepts bc i got too impatient and rushed to finish things before i got bored of them

biggest surprise:

all of my fics about idol boys except one have over 100 kudos, which is just a ridiculous amount?! idol rpf fandoms have been so kind to me... i will work hard to become a better content creator in 2019!!

favourite opening line(s):

from leaving nothing behind:

“Are you looking for Justin?”

Xukun rears back, knuckles still poised to knock on the doorframe. “I—what?”

“Are you looking for Justin?” Zhengting repeats. He’s sprawled across the bottom bunk, leg dangling inelegantly off the edge. The phone in his hand casts an unsteady ellipse of light over his collarbone.

favourite closing line(s):

from growing without rest:

Beyond the arches the world is silent. The gem Phosphophyllite will become returns their gaze steadily, evenly. The shadows lengthen. In the distance behind them, a flicker of white, like light needling off somebody’s back, or the gleam of a pearl eye.

favourite 5 line(s) from anywhere:

from first principles:

“If only Mark-hyung was still here,” Renjun said, only half-jokingly. There was a brief moment of solemn silence as the three of them paused to consider their ex-captain, who had passed on last year to the realm of university debating.

when we see each other again:

So maybe they weren’t friends, but they were something. You couldn’t inhabit the same space for two years and come out the other side as strangers. Sometimes Zhengting thought that might have been easier than whatever this intimacy limbo was supposed to be, knowing somebody in the minutest details, what they looked like at the height of their intensity or the moments before they fell asleep, without really knowing them at all. Looking, and not having the gesture returned, or at least not equally.

coincidence makes sense:

The song ends, starts over. Meiqi doesn’t, though, pivoting to face them, and that’s all the invitation Xuanyi needs to unfold from her position beside Guo Ying and cross the floor. Like two halves of a single movement Meiqi reaches out to Xuanyi and Xuanyi presses their palms together, interlacing their fingers. The tilt of their heads towards each other like it’s something irresistible.

reaching for you from the endless dream:

Junhui was practically raised by the industry. The stage lying close enough to the bone it would be indistinguishable from it. He leaves his intensity on the stage but glimpses of it show through in odd moments, seamlessness without ease. It’s hard for Wonwoo to understand, but most things about Junhui are.

take one step closer:

You want to look into somebody, of course you have to let them look back. This is why he kept away in the first place, the terror of vulnerability when it could be staved off indefinitely instead, though he’d wanted to be seen, hoped for it, even, despite himself, something in the marrow singing out to be known.

It’s like an infection, a second heart in his ribs. A kind of longing that bites right through his hand. Strikes down to the quick. Severs the whole thing clean off. He ran so far from himself he landed in somebody else’s body, and here he is, still trying to escape.

top 5 scenes from anywhere you would choose to have illustrated:

jun lifting zzt up and spinning him around, from when we see each other again (;___; #junting_agenda_seeding)

wonwoo and jun in the kitchen with nectarines spilling out of the open fridge, from reaching for you from the endless dream

cxkzzt conversation in the dark while zzt is wearing a facemask, from leaving nothing behind

00z sports shounen hug, from from first principles

phos getting crushed by their future self’s gold arms, from growing without rest

honourable mention to noishin leaping off a cliff from we both chose each other, which actually did get illustrated in dorohedorozine <3

do you have any fanfic or profit goals for the new year?

cut down my wip list... please i have 25+ wips on my spreadsheet i just want to FINISH something for once in my life instead of constantly starting new wips and letting them rot in the graveyard of my gdocs

practise writing actual shipfic and not poorly disguised gen. i WILL get better at writing kiss scenes

try to write something over 10k again

relearn what figurative language is and how to use it. rpf boosted my productivity stats but at what cost...

[justlovemewrite]

wrapped up | 3

title: wrapped up member: d.o length: 4k genre: angst, fluff, smut (in that order ?)

a/n: well here’s wrapping it up (hehe) sdfgh im nervous + one of these days my chars will have protected sex. that day is still not today

part one — two — three

But if that was all he was giving… then it was enough. Kyungsoo your friend was better than no Kyungsoo at all. And you were not going to jeopardise that with your stupid, unnecessary feelings. You were—you were probably still reeling from the mess of emotions yesterday had been. That was it. No more of this.

You could fix this.

You had to.

You emerged with a smile pasted on your face. Kyungsoo was back in your robe now, chopping vegetables, eggs gathered in a bowl next to him. "What's for breakfast!" you asked with a clap, looking over your counter.

"You know you have almost nothing in your fridge?" You made a defensive noise, averting your gaze as he chuckled, keeping his focus on the sharp knife in his hand. You hadn't done a lot of shopping recently, mostly since you had tried to wrap yourself up in work as a distraction from all your messy feelings—also as you were used to going grocery shopping with Kyungsoo, who could always tell a good tomato from a bad one.

"I have lots of leftovers!" It was your primary mode of feeding yourself when left alone: make something in very large quantities and heat it over and over for the rest of the week. It was boring, but it worked. Kyungsoo, who loved food and cooking for some reason you didn't understand, hadn't lived like that since college when none of you had the time to cook.

"We're not having leftovers for breakfast.” He shuddered dramatically. “Eggs, and you can toast some bread for us. It's the best I could do with what I had."

"What would I do without my own Soo chef?" you asked, ignoring his snort and moving past him to grab your bread.

"Hopefully not starve." You rolled your eyes at the speech you'd heard more than once, something which went right out of your other ear by now. You stayed on standby with the bread, waiting for him to start on the eggs so the bread wouldn't cool before they were done.

A call rang out, Kyungsoo's ringtone loud in the quiet morning, and he handed you his spatula as he went to pick it up. You stirred the vegetables, looking up when he appeared by your counter again. "Work?"

"Yeah. They were just calling to let me know they're not opening today and not to come in—storm, you know." He switched places with you, taking out an egg to crack into the pan. You started the toaster, climbing back onto the counter.

"Only you would get a call from work telling you not to come in when there's a storm out. Most people just assume." Kyungsoo shook his head, ignoring you and your remark. "What are you recording these days?"

He hummed. "This Chinese novel they're translating. You'd love it." You laughed. You tended to hate the books he recorded, buying the audiobooks out of a sense of loyalty—though he insisted every time that you didn't have to—and cringing your way through them. The last time you had enjoyed a book he had recorded was a year ago, a crime thriller.

"I still don't know how you read those out with a straight face."

He snorted and said, "Practice." The two of you fell silent after that, you grabbing two plates once the toast was done and taking them to him. He served the both of you, and you carried your plates to the coffee table as Kyungsoo covered the remaining eggs.

"What are we watching?" you asked, getting your laptop out.

He hummed, going to pull the curtains shut, then said, "Singin' In The Rain?"

"Cool." Between the two of you alone and together, you must have watched Singin' In The Rain at least fifty times. It had become your go-to when there was nothing to watch; both of you may have memorised most of the dialogue, but there was something satisfying about the sheer drama of this film no matter how many times you watched it. You set it up and sat back as the opening credits began, placing the pillows and blankets you'd given Kyungsoo up so you could both lean on them, making space for him.

He left just enough space between you that none of you would touch except for your elbows. It was probably not intentional—and you were not going to think about it.

The two of you were mostly silent for the first half of the movie as you ate, with the exception of some whispering of lines above the film, but as your eggs disappeared the both of you began to talk softly, just enough that you weren't louder than the movie. It was mostly small-talk, Chanyeol being back in town the next weekend, how your family was, how his brother was doing, if you'd finished that book you'd been reading. You relaxed, slowly, but you did, sinking back into the couch so your shoulder brushed the thick fabric of his robe. Kyungsoo seemed to be relaxing as well, body fitting back into your couch, where there was practically a dent from how many times the both of you had sat exactly like this.

As the screening scene—one of your favourite scenes—arrived, the both of you fell silent, only mimicking the lines.

"But the night is full of our enemies," Kyungsoo started in a nasal tone as the line arrived, mimicking Lina exactly. You laughed along with the audience in the film, shaking your head.

"Imperious princess of the night..." you trailed off as Don said the same thing—the very words—you had, but to laughter instead of silence. You pressed your lips shut together, something painful churning in your gut as Kyungsoo slowly stiffened beside you. How many times had the two of you watched this, repeated these exact lines? Now you couldn't, and all because you'd made the mistake of saying it once for real, no playacting or joking.

There was an abrupt beeping from the next room, and you shot off the couch, upsetting your laptop. "That'll be your clothes," you said, and all but sprinted out of the room.

You sorted through the clothes, pulling your own out and throwing them into a basket. You'd fold them later. Later, when you weren't about to explode.

Why had you said it?

At the time, you hadn't realised the mistake you were making. Kyungsoo had gone to throw your washcloth in the laundry, and you'd been lying in bed, sleepy and happy and questioning nothing and hoping for—everything. With him. And he had returned to the bed, lying next to you with something in his eyes that you had mistaken for love, and when he had cupped your face in his warm hand, you had said: I love you.

He hadn't said anything—only stared at you for a moment, then gone to sleep. When you woke up, he was gone, and wouldn't pick up your calls or respond to your texts. And that had been that.

You were still standing there, his clothes in your hands, when Kyungsoo appeared in the door, eyes dark and distant. You blinked up at him, then stretched your hand out to him. "Sorry," you said. "Here are your clothes. I got distracted."

He took the clothes from your hand, and started untying the robe as if he was in some sort of daze. You made to leave, standing outside the door, pressed to the wall. Half your body hurt. You couldn't move if you tried, but you had to, you weren't going to just stand here when Kyungsoo was inside changing, he hadn't even shut the door.

Why was he in a daze? You could explain yourself, but...

Before you could move, Kyungsoo appeared in the door, only half-changed. The shirt was crumpled in his hands. "I can't do this. I know—I know I said I'd put this behind us, but Y/N, I can't. I need to know."

His eyes were almost pleading. You took a deep breath. "Need to know what?"

"Why did you lie?"

Your heart sank. Did he mean—no. He couldn't mean that, could he? Why would he think you had lied? Was he just hoping you had lied so he wouldn't really be breaking your heart? "When did I lie, Kyungsoo?"

"You really don't know?"

He'd asked you this last night, too, but everything about this was different. Your heart was about to fall out of your chest. You shook your head: no.

"When you told me you loved me."

You hadn't lied. Why would you? But—he had been hurt by it. Why would he be hurt by it? Were your feelings so awful to him? You bit your lip to keep your eyes from tearing up, but they did nonetheless. You looked away, down to your feet so he wouldn't see, nevermind that he probably knew you were crying, anyway? "Did that hurt you that much?" Your voice shook more than you would have liked.

"You—you had to know it would. You know how I feel about you."

You did. You knew—that was why you had hidden your feelings for so long. Apparently you should have continued it. What would have happened if you had said nothing, kept your mouth shut? Maybe you would have been spending time as usual these last few weeks. Maybe you'd have realised your relationship wasn't progressing anytime soon and accepted it, continuing to bury your feelings.

Maybe it was best that way. You took a breath, blinking your tears away, and looked back up at him. "That's not the end, though, right? I didn't fuck us up forever? I'm sorry, Soo, I know I shouldn't have said that, but—we can pretend I didn't, right? We just go back to—"

Kyungsoo let out a long sigh, closing his eyes. "It's not that easy."

"I can't lose you, Kyungsoo. You're—you're my best friend. You're too important for us to just fall apart because of this one thing."

Kyungsoo opened his eyes, looking at you sadly. You took another deep breath to stop more tears. "It's not just one thing to me. I can't—"

"Please, please. I don't want to hurt you, you know that, I just—these last few weeks have been awful. I missed you so much, this whole time, and we haven't even tried to fix this. It's not fair that you're deciding that we can't without at least trying. I'll make myself okay with how you feel. And you do the same, and we'll go back to being—"

"Friends?"

You nodded weakly. "Friends."

"That's a problem. I don't think I can be friends with you anymore." You looked up at him, heart dropping abruptly. "You don't get it. You keep saying you want your friend back, but you—I can't forget it all. We slept together, Y/N. That's not nothing. And you told me you loved me. That's not—I can't forget that."

"Why not?" you asked, voice breaking again. Kyungsoo started to raise his hand as the tears began to overflow, but stopped, clearly too hesitant to be affectionate toward you now. You wiped the stupid tears away yourself, wishing you could speak clearly, without your vision obstructed and your throat closed and this terrible ache right in the center of your chest. "If I can forget, why can't you? Why is it harder for you than me? Why am I the only one who's fighting here, when I'm the one who—"

"I can't forget what you said because I'm in love with you!"

It was like time stopped.

"Kyungsoo—" you started, but your voice caught in your throat.

"I said it, okay. I'm in love with you. I have been—I've felt this way for a while. And I know you know, and I know you don't feel that way. I don't expect anything from you, I never have. But you knew how I felt, so why did you say that to me? You had to know that would hurt me."

"Soo, I..." you broke off, the bubble in your throat stopping words from coming out. Were you still crying? Your chest hurt, but in a completely different way. "You've got it all wrong," you managed in the end. "I had no idea."

Kyungsoo blinked, "How could you—"

You cut him off. "No, I—I didn't know. I thought... this whole time, you've been talking about my feelings for you... my feelings of friendship?" Kyungsoo nodded, and you shook your head, more tears slipping past your cheeks. "You've got it wrong, Soo. I'm in love with you. I have been for a while, but I didn't want my feelings to get in the way of what we have. And then that day you were looking at me and I just... couldn't hide it. So I told you."

Kyungsoo was frozen still. "You told me... you confessed to me." You nodded, wiping at your tears still. "And I left."

You swallowed. "I thought you meant—I thought you didn't want to tell me you didn't feel the same way. And then you wouldn't pick up my calls, and I... I thought you were scared. All this time, I thought you couldn't look past the fact that I'm in love with you."

"No, I—" Kyungsoo cut off, looking at you like he had just run a marathon. "You—I thought you wanted me to forget my feelings." You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of you, shaking your head as he stepped closer to you. He slowly brought his hands up to your side, pulling you closer. You went, dropping your hands onto his chest. Were you breathing?

"You have feelings for me," you repeated, staring up at him. When Kyungsoo nodded, pulling you closer still, you let out another giggle, tapping his chest. "How did I not see it? You're terrible at pretending anything."

"Yeah, even that I'm in love with you." Kyungsoo said. "You—we were pretending to date. Why do you think it was always so easy to me?" Your mind flashed to every single time he had smiled and introduced you as his girlfriend, every single time his affectionate gaze on you had felt a little too real—because it was.

You gasped. The bubble in your chest kept growing bigger and bigger. "Oh my god. I... I completely fell for it. Are you sure you're a voice-actor, not a face actor?"

Kyungsoo laughed, bringing a hand up to your face to run his thumb down your cheek. "Face actor."

"Shut up!" You felt like you could be flying as you pressed your forehead to his chest. "I'm really embarrassed right now—do you know how much I've been crying in the last few weeks? I thought you wanted nothing to do with me since you found out!"

Kyungsoo stopped laughing at that, pulling your face up to his and giving you a soft look as he wiped away the trails your tears had left. "I'm sorry. I should have—stayed and talked to you, or asked you, or said something. I was just scared."

You shook your head. "I was scared too. I'd been hiding it this whole time, and then I said something, and... you know what? We should just never hide things from each other again. It only makes a mess."

Kyungsoo chuckled once, leaning closer to you. "Then in the interest of showing my feelings openly..." he trailed off, looking at you with the same intent you had seen in his eyes earlier—on that night, but now coloured with affection that you hadn't known how to see then. "Can I kiss you?"

You grinned up at him. "Yes."

Kyungsoo kissed like he did everything; with dedication. You knew this already, but you could appreciate it better now. You leaned into him, letting your hands wander down his chest, stopping at his waist to keep him close. His pulled your bottom lip between his, licking into your mouth, deepening the kiss. One of his hands descended to the small of your back, pressing you to him. Your bodies were pressed together chest to hip, and the kiss that had been sweet one second turned into something else, making you want to be closer, closer.

When you broke away to breathe, Kyungsoo was heaving, his eyes still shut. You giggled at the way he was trying to get himself under control, pressing a few light kisses to his jaw as you did. Kyungsoo's hand tightened on your back, keeping you pressed to him. You didn't mind—he was radiating body heat, and you chased it with your lips, leaving open-mouthed kisses down his neck. "Y/N," he said, voice low and deep enough to send a thrill of heat through you. "We should," he paused as you nipped at the skin between his neck and shoulder. "We should maybe—slow down."

You leaned back for a second, giving him a pout. His eyes opened slowly at the loss of your lips—and met you with heat that might as well set fire to your insides. You'd never seen him look like that. Like he wanted to devour you. You shivered. "Are you sure you want to?"

He kissed the pout off your lips, but it was only a moment before he pulled away. "No," he admitted, and you laughed at the bluntness. "But if you keep kissing me like that, I don't think we'll be able to stop. And I thought you might want to... take it slow."

He was so sweet your heart was about to overflow any second—but he was also wrong about what you wanted. You leaned your head back, giving him a look. "I've wanted to do this for months, and I'm pretty sure you have, too. We can take it slow later, okay? Right now, just—kiss me."

Kyungsoo had no problems listening to you there. He was back on you immediately, turning the two of you around so you were pressed into the wall, him hovering above you. You pulled him closer to you until you were all but pressed together again, his lips on yours and his hands holding you to the wall and to him and his scent around you. You groaned out his name when he pulled away from your mouth to trace a pattern on your skin, tugging at your earlobe with his lips and kissing down your neck. At the sound he swore, pressing you harder into the wall, his hips pushing into yours.

He was hardening, you could feel it, as you moved your hips best you could to grind on him. Soo pulled away from your neck, giving you a look before he moved back to capture your mouth, moving one leg between yours so you couldn't move against him. You ground shamelessly down on his leg, satisfied when Kyungsoo groaned into your mouth.

"Bed," you said. He nodded, barely pulling away from you. You took a step back and tripped, your legs dangerously unsteady, and Kyungsoo let out a low laugh as he realised just what state he'd brought you to. That tone travelled straight to your core, and you took a deep, shaky breath as you stepped over the clothes on the ground and pulled him backward, to your bedroom. Kyungsoo pushed the door shut and pressed you to it, already kissing you again. His hands disappeared under your shirt, kneading your waist, and you groaned into his mouth. "Bed," you insisted, pulling away from his mouth for a moment. Kyungsoo nodded but didn't move, pulling off your shirt and throwing it somewhere behind him, then sliding the straps of your bra down your arms.

Your stomach constricted as he licked his lips, looking down at you, and you grabbed his arms, turning around and pulling the both of you to the bed. Kyungsoo followed, landing just on top of you, his erection rubbing against your leg through his sweat. Kyungsoo leaned up and struggled with your tights for your second, until you raised your hips and kicked them off yourself, ignoring them to look at the way he stared at you, eyes dark and warm.

"Soo," you whined, and his eyes snapped back to you. "Touch me, do something, come on."

He pulled himself onto all fours, hovering over you. You wondered what you looked like from that angle, lips kiss-swollen, bra straps halfway down your shoulders and splotches on your neck from his attention earlier. He seemed to like whatever he saw, because he lowered his mouth to your chest, kissing and biting along your collarbones, lower, until he pushed your bra down. You reached behind you to take it off, but he left it on, letting it sit by your stomach as he lavished your breasts with kisses, biting gently at your pebbled nipples. You moaned and arched up, closer toward him. You didn't realise where his hands were going until one was at its destination, sneaking under your underwear to rub against your clit.

You squirmed underneath him as he shifted above you, getting comfortable. He nipped at your breasts, playing with you, while sliding his fingers along your folds. "You're so wet, baby," he whispered, and you nodded, bringing your hands up to bury in his hair. "Do you want me?"

"Please, Kyungsoo," you gasped out, and he acquiesced, pushing one finger slowly into you before sliding it back out, starting a slow pace of pushing into you. After a moment he added another, and you groaned as his thick fingers rubbed against your walls, stretching you out. You shifted, arching your back so he had a better angle.

Kyungsoo laughed, lifting his head up so he could look down at you. "You're so wriggly. You really want to come, huh?" You nodded, biting your lip as he rubbed at your clit with your thumb. "Can you come like this, sweetheart? Do you want to come just like this?"

You shook your head. "No," you said, Kyungsoo slowing his movements with a raised eyebrow. "I want you, I want to come around you."

Kyungsoo hissed and reached down, adjusting his sweatpants. You made a noise, reaching down yourself to push at the pants, tugging the hem down. He made an amused noise, leaning down to kiss you once. "You're so needy," he whispered, then kissed you again. "I love it."

You tugged at his sweatpants as he kissed you, pulling at the leg of one with your toes. He took the hint and finally kicked them off, leaving him naked in front of you. You broke the kiss to look down at him, inhaling at the sight of him.

You had seen him before, but that night—well, it had been night, your lights had been dimmed, and you had been slightly drunk on the heat and excitement of it all. His cock was bigger than you remembered, not too long but thick enough to make your jaw ache and legs clamp shut. You rubbed your thighs together, looking back at Kyungsoo, who was looking at you with pure unfiltered lust in his eyes.

"Can I—" you started, and he shook his head, moving to hover over you again.

"I want you."

His tone, his eyes, all of it went straight to your gut. You reared up, kissing him as you started to kick your underwear off. With one hand, you circled his cock, giving it a few hard strokes. He moaned into your mouth, pulling away to breathe heavily, keeping his forehead pressed to yours. You kept pulling him off until he pushed your hand away, readjusting himself so he was between your legs. Slowly, keeping his eyes on you, he entered you, giving you a moment to adjust.

You nodded after a second, groaning as he started to move, pulling out only to bury himself in you again. You closed your eyes as you began to move in response, swiveling your hips to meet his as he thrust into you. He hissed, finding a pace that you both liked, breathing heavily. The room rang out with your pants and groans, and the filthy sounds of flesh meeting flesh, all with the pleasant background of rain. Kyungsoo brought his lips back to you, leaving feathery kisses on your jaw, making you sigh out against him. Minutes passed in semi-silence from the both of you, your body growing tenser and tenser until his jerks suddenly grew more abrupt.

"I'm going to come," he said. You nodded, holding onto him tighter, digging your nails into his back. As his thrusts grew erratic, he dragged his hand down your body, and he began to play with your swollen clit, making you jerk underneath him at the sudden touch. "Come on, baby, come with me."

He pressed a hand underneath your back, making you arch up and changing the angle between you. With that, he pressed his thumb harshly to the head of your nub, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. The tightening in your stomach finally let go, your orgasm washing over you as you came, clenching around him. The added tightness seemed to get to him, too, and he began to come in hot spurts, his movement slowly ceasing as both of you grew too sensitive for it.

You were breathing heavily as he pulled out, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he did. The mess got on your legs, but you ignored it as you looked up at him, smiling. Your heart was beating too fast to be any good, and you were definitely going to be a little sore, but you felt as though you could run a mile.

Kyungsoo got off you, collapsing beside you with a huff. You turned as well, the both of you groaning at the squelching noise as some more cum seeped out of you. He made to get up, but you threw a hand and a leg over him, looking up at him. "Give it a second?"

"I'll be right back, we should get—"

You cut him off, shaking your head. "Give it a few minutes. This is going nowhere."

Kyungsoo hummed and stayed put, so you climbed onto his chest, smiling up at him. A slow smile grew on his face too, until he was all but grinning at you. You giggled, pressing your face to his chest.

"What's funny?"

You pecked his chest. "Nothing. I'm just happy." You looked back up at him. "I love you. Don't go anywhere."

His smile softened, eyes crinkling. "I love you too," he said softly. "And I'm not going anywhere."