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mercy-burning · 3 years ago

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Fake Fiancée - Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer write letters back and forth, both of them slowly starting to fall in deeper. Category: Smut (18+) Content Warnings: Strong language, sexual themes, masturbation (male and female), sexting, face sitting Word Count: 6.3k

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hello!! Sorry this has been so long in the making, but for a while my inspiration for this story absolutely disappeared, and then I tried to think of how to bridge the previous chapters to the final one with absolutely no luck. And then I re-read Part 2 and got stuck on the letter, thus this chapter was born! I didn’t want to drag this miniseries out any longer than 4 parts, and the letter format combined with other inner monologuing and description really allowed me to do that in an interesting way that hopefully doesn’t feel rushed!

It was so much fun and very refreshing to write. I hope you like how it turned out!

Thank you all for being so patient while I get my shit together 😅 Love you guys! Enjoy 🥰

***

We've been sending letters back and forth for about a month now.

If I'm being honest, it took me about two weeks to decide whether or not I actually wanted to send one back, but could you blame me?

Here was this guy I couldn't stop thinking about after a one-night stand, only for him to catch me—months later at the same exact bar we'd met in—flirting with his friend. And then after our sexual encounter that night, all the things we said, the connection I thought we had, all of it...

He left it all behind the next morning, only to send me a letter in the mail.

I was pissed.

Sure, it was a nice letter, but the fact that he'd reduced what we had down to a piece of paper and scribbled ink had made me angrier than I cared to admit.

In retrospect, I may have overreacted.

Over time I started re-reading his words, and the more I thought about it all, the more I started to regret my anger. And more than anything, I just wanted to see him again. I couldn't stay mad at him, not when all I could picture was his pouty face and nervous hands. His sunbeam of a smile peeked through the clouds of my anger here and there, and the longer it settled, the more it bathed me in a warm light that should have made me happy. But all it did was make me long for him.

Once I'd actually started writing that first letter back, I wondered why I hadn't jumped on the opportunity in the first place. I mean, after all the cliché shit we'd experienced in our short relationship thus far, adding love letters to the mix was just as perfect as you could get, right?

Spencer,

I'm sorry it's taken me this long to finally write you back. Truthfully I wasn't sure I wanted to write you at all, but your letter kept drawing me back in. I couldn't stop re-reading it, imagining you sitting down somewhere and contemplating every word as you wrote them down. I wondered if you'd thrown out hundreds of pieces of paper after messing up when you could have just as well typed out a letter without wasting them.

And then by that point, all I could think about was just you.

I always pictured what your living room looks like, or your kitchen table, or your office, or wherever you sit down to write. I wondered if you looked like one of those hopeless writers in the movies that have a scruffy face, coffee stains on their white tee shirts, and messy hair that hasn't been washed in days due to lack of inspiration.

But in the end, the image that won out over all the others was just you as I remember.

I'm not going to lie, that image most of the time was your body above mine while I held my hand to your throat, but for the sake of romance I guess I should probably tell you what it was every other time— the outfit you were wearing the first time we met.

When I think of you, I think of your hand nervously clutching that beer bottle for dear life and the other one occasionally pushing your glasses up your nose. I think of your eyes every time they'd look away from me, probably to keep yourself from staring too long.

But the thing that always gets me the most is your smile— even when it comes in little flashes, after you've said something you probably thought was lame. You covered it up with that perfect smile.

I've dreamt of that smile nearly every night since I met you, and I wouldn't be opposed to seeing it in person again.

I'd love to meet you for dinner some time.

But since you did manage to "more or less abandon me twice now", I think it's only fair that you make it up to me first.

Make the next letter a good one, and we'll see what happens.

Yours, Y/N

P.S. I hope my handwriting is as pretty as you hoped. I'd hate to disappoint.

***

Y/N,

I'm incredibly grateful that you've given me a chance to redeem myself. Every night since I last saw you has also been spent wondering what your house looks like on the inside... What you looked like reading my letter (perhaps at your kitchen table?)

And this might sound silly, but I've also wondered what your bedroom looks like. You may be laughing at me, because I've been in your bedroom, but in my defense I was a bit preoccupied to really take notice of my surroundings— I was simply surrounded by you.

But since I've been to your home, I figured it was only fair that I invite you to mine, possibly for dinner. I don't know how to cook much— in fact I'm pretty awful at making anything that's not a can of Spaghetti-Os... But one of my co-workers is an excellent chef, and with a recipe from him and some practice under my belt, I'm sure I can pull it off.

But by "some" practice, I mean probably weeks or months of practice. So hopefully that gives you ample time to mull it over.

Perhaps in the meantime we can get to know each other through our letters. And who's to say, it might spare us the awkward "getting to know each other" stage of a first date. Though, pretty much every stage of every date is awkward for me, so it might not help at all.

Regardless, I'm very much looking forward to hearing from you again.

I do get called away for work quite often, however. So I apologize in advance if I can't get back to you as soon as I'd like.

But in any instance, you're still welcome to text message or call me. I know it isn't as romantic or personal as handwritten letters, but it's certainly practical.

Yours, Spencer.

P.S. Your handwriting is just as beautiful as I'd imagined it would be. And you could never disappoint me.

That being said, if you somehow decide that this letter wasn't up to your standards and reject my offer, I may just find myself in the deepest despair imaginable.

***

I was definitely way too in my head about this.

It was just a text. Sure, it was a risky text to send, but I had no doubt in my mind that it would be fine in the end.

So why was my stomach churning just thinking about sending it?

Some might have chalked it up to my fat ol' crush on Spencer, but I knew it ran deeper. It had to do at least a little with my history with Patrick... The man stood me up and sent divorce papers to my place of work rather than to my face... And as much as I liked to think I was completely over it, we'd been together for years, and it really did a number on me.

I didn't want to ruin this new thing with Spencer so badly that I was overthinking everything.

So even though I could see his face opening the text, my heart doing jumps at the mere thought of it, a bigger part of me worried that it would be a step too far in the wrong direction. I didn't want him to think I was only in this for... sexual reasons. Which, don't get me wrong, have been pretty damn great so far, but I really did want to get to know him and see where this went.

In the end I decided to hold off. I settled for something a little lighter.

Spencer,

Don't feel too bad about your cooking skills. I've been through my fair share of burnt frozen pizzas to know how you're feeling. So the fact that you've given yourself the opportunity to practice and learn a recipe just for me is extremely romantic, and I appreciate the thought.

I won't stop you from following through, though I'm telling you now that no amount of slaving away in the kitchen will make me change my mind about you. We could probably eat stale crackers on the floor and I'd still find you utterly fascinating.

Maybe that's a bit too extreme, but I hope you get my point.

Anyway, I'd love to come over for dinner some time. Whenever you think you're ready to show me those improved cooking skills, you just let me know and I'll happily make my way over.

In the meantime, I'm thinking of sending more with my letters. I don't want to give away too much, but I will say that I'm very crafty. And don't feel like you need to send anything in return, though I'll let you know if I ever change my mind.

Yours,

Y/N

***

In the bottom right corner of the letter, right next to her signature, was a red lipstick stain in the shape of... well, her lips. It was common sense to know that they were hers and no one else's, not just a stamp or a drawing, and rather her actual lip stain... But even without it, I would have been able to tell by their shape.

Was that pathetic?

I could hear her, picture her in front of me, hovering above me with red-painted lips in the shape of a smirk, visibly cooing as she called me names... I could feel the ghost of her fingertips trailing up my throat and tilting my chin up to look at her as she rocked her hips teasingly into mine...

The whine I let out truly was pathetic.

You pathetic, needy little thing, I could hear her say...

My hands clutched the paper so tightly I thought I'd tear it, but it didn't matter when all I could see while staring at it was her luscious, red lips... Her voice was right there in my ear, like she was really beside me, watching me...

Oh, God, what would she do if she saw me right now? Staring at her lipstick stained paper and subconsciously grinding down into my chair...

You pathetic, needy little thing...

My hips jolted with a small, broken shout of her name, and in no time the front of my pants were flooded with warmth. I felt her eyes burning into me from the void, sparking to life with amusement as her voice crept into the deep corners of my brain and whispered praises to me.

Ohh, what a good little whore... Getting off to the thought of me... That's it, sweet boy... Come for me...

By now my eyes had squeezed shut and the letter was crumpled in my hand, the other reaching down to add much-appreciated burning friction to my crotch as I rode out my orgasm. My whole body tensed and shuddered at every sensation, from Y/N's image behind my eyes to the sweet warmth that pooled in my underwear and soaked through onto my hand.

Holy mother of—

The next time I saw her, I was screwed. I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. I'd surely go red the second I laid eyes on her, and she'd know right away what I was thinking and feeling.

Simply put, it scared and excited me at the same time.

She'd utterly and thoroughly wrecked me, and if she didn't already know it, she certainly would soon.

Y/N,

I'm not sure what you intend to send in addition to your letters, but if it's anything near the sentiment of your lip stain, then you might have to refrain in favor of my poor, fragile heart.

See, it aches for you. It's bad enough I think of you always, but the moment I saw the shape of your lips on that letter, my heart almost shot straight out of my chest. Maybe it was the familiar shape of your lips or the implications of its place next to your name, signed after the word 'yours', that sent me into a tailspin, but whatever the case...

I'm pretty sure I've completely fallen under your spell.

I suppose I should also tell you that my heart wasn't the only part of my body that came to life at your added signature. I assure you, it took no time at all for me to come undone at the thought of your lips pressing gently against the paper, imagining that they were instead pressing to my skin... I didn't even have to touch myself, really. It just happened. Because of you and you alone.

I hope that wasn't too forward, but I felt it necessary that you know just how much of an effect you have on me.

If I could see you again in a millisecond, it wouldn't be soon enough.

That being said, I am determined to spend as much time as possible to perfect this dish for our dinner. Because you deserve nothing but the best, even if you insist that you could settle for less.

It's the least I can do.

Yours, Spencer.

And a week and a half later, when I didn't get a letter back on time, I was sure I'd messed up for good.

My mind was racing a mile a minute, yelling at myself for even thinking for a second of being that detailed in a letter without any consent. Sure, she'd taken it a step up by signing off her letter with a kiss, but I'd been absolutely idiotic in telling her that I got off to it.

I was honestly well and truly prepared to show up at her house with a big bouquet of flowers and an apology so wordy and probably too long for anyone's liking, in hopes that she'd forgive me for making this huge mistake.

Thankfully, though, it wasn't needed.

My phone chimed as I was pacing, my lip near bloody with how hard I'd been chewing at it, and I saw an unknown number attached to a text message and photo attachment.

The photo wouldn't load (I would have to plug it into my laptop and transfer the image there to see it— a fact which always irked Penelope to the core), but with the sentences I saw above the file, I almost knew exactly what I'd find when I had the means to see it.

There. Now we're even... Who says text messages can't be romantic and personal? XXX, Y/N

I felt like Bambi as I scrambled to my laptop three rooms over, stumbling over weak legs with my phone clutched tightly in my hand. My heart raced faster than it ever had as I started everything up and retrieved the right cord for my phone. With a few shakes and stumbles here and there, I briefly entertained the idea of upgrading my phone.

I probably would have left the apartment to do it immediately after seeing her photo attachment, but the moment it loaded up on my screen, my brain and body lost all ability to function properly.

A familiar burn coursed through the lower half of my body and tightened my chest at the sight of her, open and exposed and... wet.

My laptop screen was completely taken over by the image of Y/N's pussy, visibly glistening and aroused. A manicured hand—her hand— was in frame as well, middle finger resting snugly between the supple skin of her wet lips.

The fact that I only tasted her once felt downright cruel.

I tried to imagine it again— my face buried between the softness of her thighs. As much as I wanted to lay her down and indulge myself as long as possible, taking all the time in the world to slowly devour her and truly explore her for myself, what ran through my mind then was something more in the vein of our dynamic thus far.

My mind wandered, specifically to a place where I was the one laying down as she sat down directly onto my face and gave me what she thought I deserved. My hands were tied to the bed, maybe handcuffed. All I knew was that I couldn't touch her, and it bothered me. So I whined, and every time the sound left my mouth, she would let up, lifting further out of reach and causing me to instinctively reach my head up to chase her.

You greedy little slut... Take what I give you...

Desperately seeking her approval, I told her I'd be good and rejoiced when she lowered herself down to me again, allowing me to me completely wrapped up in her once more. My tongue lapped and lapped, gathering as much of her as I could before she'd inevitably leave again.

But she never did.

Somehow I kept my quiet, even though it was extremely difficult, and ate her out like my life depended on it. She glided smoothly over my face, coating more than just my lips in her arousal, and it thrilled me to my very core.

Every time I breathed in I could smell her, every time she groaned out my name my stomach fluttered, and it wasn't long before she was clutching my hair, shaking above me while I drank her in and repressed my whines.

My hips were uncontrollable though, bucking up into nothing and begging for any type of stimulation.

But then suddenly it was there— Her hand, firmly wrapping around my dick and gliding over it beautifully with a slickness that she must have transferred from her pussy. I could still taste her as I cried out her name, her movements quickening with every second until—

I didn't even realize I was actually alone until my eyes opened, cum coating my hand, my heartbeat heavy and loud, and the laptop screen in front of me a shade darker signaling a long period of inactivity.

I'd done it again...

And now we most certainly were not even.

I glanced over at my phone—plugged into the laptop—and then down at my lap, and my stomach knotted as my next move rang clear as day.

***

I woke up the next morning to texts from Spencer, and my heart picked up speed, a gentle warmth blooming through my chest at the sight.

I thought maybe he'd thank me for the photo I'd sent. Maybe he'd return it with an influx of messages along the lines of Oh my god, Holy fuck I miss you, and the like.

But what I wasn't expecting was to see a photo in return, of his hand that I'd dreamt of nearly nightly, wrapped firmly around his cock and all of it completely covered in cum.

Below the photo were three messages in a row, and each one gave me more butterflies than the last.

Sorry for low quality. No smartphone.

Also sorry we're not even anymore.

But I'm not sorry I did it- you're too perfect to resist.

***

Dearest Y/N,

I'm sorry you haven't gotten a letter from me in a while. And I know we've kept in touch through texting and calling while I was swamped at work, though now that I have some time off, I'd love to write you again. As much as I enjoy our virtual conversations, I still find sending letters to be my preferred method of communication (only second to speaking with you in person, that is).

Which brings me to the main point I'm trying to make.

I want to see you again. In person. I'm not completely confident in my cooking ability yet, but if you wouldn't mind the potential of it tasting awful, I'd love to have you over. I promise you nothing but the best, and I know that's a high promise, especially considering I probably haven't sold you on the meal, but it's true.

I'd do anything to please you.

And I really do mean 'anything', I hope you understand that.

Yours, Spencer.

***

The thought of seeing him in person again after so long made my hands way shakier than I would have liked. It made no sense the longer I thought about it, because it was obvious that we liked each other, and seeing each other in person wouldn't be a problem. Because it'd never been a problem before.

It irked me.

Still, I knocked on his door and physically shook out my hands, praying I could keep my cool when he finally opened the door.

But I should have known better.

One second I was staring at a large plank of wood, and the next I was staring into frantic eyes, golden and sparkling just as I remembered, but with an added glimmer of fear that matched the shakiness of my hands.

I don't know how long we stood there, just staring at each other, but the longer we did, the more we relaxed. His fear was gone, and the shaking in my hands turned into a dull hum that longed to reach out for him.

Still, I refrained, settling on a simple, "Hey, pen pal..."

By the way he looked at me, silent as ever, I started to wonder if that was a stupid thing to lead with. So I opened my mouth to apologize, to say anything else, but he beat me to it.

"Y/N... I... H—Hi, you look... incredible."

"O—Oh, thanks... Thank you, yeah, I um... figured I should... dress up a little. I know we're not going out anywhere, but I thought it might be nice."

He doesn't need to know that, Y/N, stop talking!

I gave him a small smile and a nervous laugh in an attempt to stop myself, hating how I was so nervous around him.

Spencer didn't seem to mind, though. He let me in and closed the door behind me as I quickly glanced around his apartment. It was littered with greens and browns, books everywhere, and I'd never felt more at home.

"Is it, uh... What you expected?"

"Hmm?" I turned to meet him, his soft voice pulling me from my wandering eyes.

"My apartment."

"Oh! Yeah, it's very you... I love it."

The compliment had his cheeks turning pink, and there was nothing I wanted to do more than kiss them over and over again.

And just like that, once again we were caught just staring at each other. I didn't know what he was thinking, and honestly, I didn't know what I was thinking either. All I knew in that moment was that Spencer Reid was standing right in front of me, close enough to touch, and I wanted to give in.

I was so wrapped up in the idea of feeling him that I almost didn't hear him speak. I wouldn't have heard him at all had it not been for his lips moving.

"I'm sorry, I haven't started dinner yet..."

"That's okay," I reassured. Or, at least I tried to. Really, though, I think it sounded more like I was uninterested in what he was saying, my voice flat and lifeless as I continued to stare at him.

Suddenly we were closer, and I had to look up higher to see his face, butterflies swarming in my stomach at the way he looked down at me.

"You're sure?"

"Mhm."

"I can start it now if you're getting hungry."

Food isn't what I'm hungry for, is what I thought. I almost said it, too, because he was even closer now, his hands coming out to touch mine. If they were humming before, they were certainly blaring with life now, growing hot under his light touch. And it took everything I had not to look down, because it had been too damn long since I'd seen his hands in person, and I wanted them on me immediately.

He could tell, too. He could sense my urgency, feel the longing radiating off my presence, and I knew this because I could feel his, too. His eyes practically dared me to say what I was thinking, and so I did.

"Don't you dare."

It was hard to tell who moved in first, but it really didn't matter.

I was here, in his apartment, feeling his lips glide over mine with reckless abandon, and that's all that mattered.

His hands gripped my waist so tightly I would have thought he was trying to hold me in place, to make sure I wasn't ever going to leave his sight again. And if that was the case, I would have let him hold me there forever.

My hands, meanwhile, clutched at his hair, forcing myself closer and closer to him with every sharp tug. I reveled in the way he whined into my mouth with every little thing I did, whether it was a tug of the hair or a roll forward of the hips, or even a swipe of my tongue over his.

He was putty in my hands yet again, and just like every time before, it turned me into a fucking goner.

Being with Spencer wasn't like anything I'd ever known. And the only other thing I'd known was Patrick. He didn't want me, not really, and even though he was good to me in the beginning, it was never like this.

I didn't come over to his apartment with shaking hands. I didn't send him fucking love letters almost weekly, and I certainly didn't get kissed like this...

Spencer was drunk on me, and I wasn't any sober myself.

"That picture you sent me..." I mumbled over his lips, still keeping myself as close as I could while I got out what I needed to say. "Where did you take that?"

We kissed for a few more seconds, unable to stay apart, before he answered, his voice just as breathy and brimming with desperation as mine. "My office. Just down the hall."

I kissed him again, hard, and then pulled back to look him in the eyes. They widened when I said, "Show me."

He dragged me through the apartment on rushed legs, and I almost laughed at the urgency, only stopped by the realization that I was just as urgent. It occurred to me that perhaps my laughing at his urgency might just be a slight turn on for him, given our history with my playful degradation, but still I pulled back— Tonight felt... different.

It didn't feel like we were headed in the direction of me calling him my dirty little whore throughout the night, and it was something I was more than okay with. In fact, I welcomed it, excited to see where this new night would take us.

We ended up in his office, which remained more or less the same aesthetic as the rest of his place. In the middle sat a small desk with a laptop and some papers scattered about on it, accompanied by a tall floor lamp and a rolling desk chair.

"Where were you exactly?" I mused, gripping his hand tightly and buzzing at the way his fingers flexed against my own.

"In the chair... I pulled the photo up on my laptop."

"Right. No smartphone."

Spencer hummed in confirmation before dragging me along to the chair, and I fucking giggled as he plopped down and practically pulled me right on top of him, the chair rolling back a foot or two. I went down for a bright, messy kiss that ended with his hands clutching my ass over my skirt and my own cradling his face.

His growing bulge nudged right up into my inner thigh, and I groaned lightly in his mouth, my fingers dragging softly down his jaw and neck until I reached his shoulders.

"What were you thinking about?"

He raised his eyebrow, and I rocked my hips forward with a sly grin, hoping to get my point across. "When you were looking at my picture, in this very chair, what were you thinking about?"

Seeing his eyelids stutter and his tongue dart out at my movements sent a rush through me, and I moved my hips once more to emphasize my urgency.

"I... I thought about you... riding my face. You tied my hands..."

"Oh?" I sighed, rocking forward again and humming into his neck. "Well, that can definitely be arranged if you want it bad enough..."

"Please, Y/N, yes... Please..."

The need dripping from every syllable made it near impossible to breathe, and I was suddenly very inclined to give him everything he wanted. With or without the begging.

So I reluctantly peeled away from him and stood up on weak legs. Staring at Spencer as he sat there, leaning back in the chair with disheveled hair and obvious desire in his eyes, made it all the better when I took my panties off from under my skirt and motioned for him to come forward. "On your knees?"

I would have demanded it in any other situation, but I was feeling a bit more sweet this time around.

And he seemed grateful for it, sliding the chair back further and getting down in front of me. I reached out and played with his hair, trying my hardest to commit his beautiful face to memory. I wanted it burned there for the rest of time.

"Hands?"

Spencer offered his hands to me, and I hummed happily, doing my best to tie his hands together with a makeshift knot from my panties. It wasn't really tight or secure, but it was enough for him to whine as he set them in his lap.

He watched intently as I dropped my skirt—a bit redundant now, but I thought it'd be a nice way to get him more excited. Plus I wanted to see his face (or at lease what I could see of it while it was buried between my legs).

I stepped forward then, looking down at him with a smile while my hands reached out to comb through his hair. "You ready?"

"Uh huh."

The look in his eyes right before I came forward and hovered over his face almost made my come on the spot.

But as fun as that would have been, I was glad for the way my body held off and settled for a beautiful, burning increase of pleasure that dragged out the longer he swiped his tongue through my folds. Actually, I forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be moving, riding his face like he'd thought about.

I willed my eyes open and clutched Spencer's soft locks of hair beneath me, gently rolling my hips and grinding down further on his face. The groan he let out not only felt good against my skin, but it sounded like pure bliss, eliciting a small whimper of my own as I tightened my grip in his hair and rocked faster.

"God, I missed having your mouth on me, baby... You're... so good..."

The longer I spoke the more breathless I became, not because the words didn't come easily, but because I truly believed them to be true.

Spencer really was so fucking good, his tongue the most delicate, divine object of the universe as it drew out every ounce of delight from my body. I may have been the one above him, calling the shots and directing him where and how to please me, but he was the one who clung to my soul like static and politely guided me towards damnation.

I wasn't even sure of my surroundings to tell you the truth. As my body tensed and took me through one of the most blinding pleasures I'd experienced in weeks, My eyes were squeezed so tightly it's like I saw the universe. All I knew was Spencer's lips sucking my clit and my hands deeply rooted in his hair as I shouted incoherently, stars swirling around behind my eyelids.

Truly, for all I knew, we could have been in space. It wouldn't have made any difference.

But eventually it came to be too much. I was reaching a limit I didn't want to get to so quickly, and so I flashed my eyes open and tried to adjust to this brand new atmosphere, unweaving my fingers through pretty brown waves of hair and stepping back to assess the situation.

What I found was the most beautiful man I'd ever known, panting like he'd just ran a marathon and yet harboring the most intense joy and desire a person could hold. He was on his knees, bound hands writhing in his lap as he awaited further instruction and licked up as much of myself on his face as he could before I stopped him.

Under normal circumstances, I would have wanted to absolutely ruin him. That adoring, desperate look in his eye would have spurred me to more devious endeavors, but all I wanted in this moment was to make sure he was satisfied. I wanted to take care of him, to let him know that I longed to make him feel as worshipped and adored as he'd made me feel.

I got down to Spencer's level, quickly removing the fabric from his wrists and hauling him to his feet, where he now towered over me, still waiting for words to address and instruct him.

Instead, I leaned up with soft hands upon his cheeks and pulled him down to meet my lips in a kiss that changed the tone entirely. It was erotic still, of course, what with my arousal infiltrating my taste buds and eliciting a soft sigh from the both of us, but our urgency manifested in sweeter ways... Softer lips, gentle touches of the face, and an exchanging of breath that was so smooth and seamless it felt like we were floating on air.

I was finding it hard to breathe again, but it wasn't an issue in the slightest. In fact, there was nowhere else I'd rather have been than right there, kissing Spencer Reid like we had all the time in the world.

When the breathlessness was a little too much to bear, we pulled away, though only leaving just enough space to breathe. Our lips stayed briefly connected while we caught up, and his hands found their way to the sides of my face. The way they practically engulfed my whole head brought a brief smile to my lips as I finally gave him the words he was looking for.

"I'm so glad I met you," I whispered.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."

We kissed each other again, naturally and with so much ease that I wondered how I had ever lived without him.

And then, as my hands slid gently down his chest, I felt it.

Something that felt very much like a ring attached to a necklace sat right where his heartbeat resided, and I knew exactly which ring it was.

"W—" I pulled back and circled the shape of it with my finger through the shirt, then looked up at him. "Is that what I think it is?"

Spencer looked briefly panicked, pulling away a little and fishing down the front of his shirt for the chain. "Oh... Um, yeah. I, um... I forgot to take it off, I'm sorry. I..."

"You... kept it?"

I observed the diamond as it laid flat on my palm, still attached to the chain and around his neck. Honestly, after all this time I figured he'd never found it or gotten rid of it, seeing as he never brought it up. And yet there it was, glittering in the palm of my hand as my other one presses firmly against Spencer's rapidly beating heart.

"Y—Yeah... It um... It was really the only physical thing I had to remember you—Well, at least until we started sending letters... And I guess I just... W—Wearing it has become such a habit that I forgot to take it off."

"You never take it off?"

I could tell he was nervous, and rightfully so given I wasn't really letting on how I was feeling about the whole thing.

Still, he answered my short question in such a small whisper I'd have thought he was trying not to get in trouble.

"No."

"Why?"

My words certainly weren't helping ease his anxieties, so I remained close, dropping the ring and focusing rather on his eyes. I softened the look in my own and glided my hands down to hold his. His fingers flexed against mine, squeezing them for dear life as he sighed out in relief and flashed me a soft smile.

"Because... I wanted you close to my heart."

With a smile that mirrored his eyes, full of enchantment and pure adoration for the person in front of me, I didn't use my brain and instead focused on what my heart was telling me, consequences be damned.

"I think I might love you..."

Spencer squeezed my hands tighter, that relief spreading out to all his features and brightening that beautiful smile.

"Funny... I was just thinking the same thing."

Our lips met once more, and I swear it was like nothing bad was ever going to happen for the rest of time.

I'd never felt that way. Not once with Patrick did my heart feel settled into place, even during the great parts of our relationship.

And now here I was, with a man who sent me love letters and kept every physical reminder of my existence, who kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world and slowly mended my wounded heart.

He held me close the whole way to his bedroom and never let me go until the morning. Though, even then his arms outstretched towards me and his fingers flexed, needing to grab onto any part of me that he could find.

And as I was sure I always would, I welcomed him with open arms.

***

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thinkingoutlouddblog · 4 years ago

Text

butterfly effect: one

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Word Count: 6k+

Includes: mob!h, mentions of blood, scary dudes late at night, and the set up for my favourite story I’ve ever written!

A/N: guys I am so excited about this story! I swear writing this is the only thing holding me together (so don’t let it flop lmao). It is 2AM pray for me.

My inbox is open for anyone who wants to chat about this series! I love to gab, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated. I want this to be as good as possible!!

butterfly effect masterlist // my masterlist

now

It is not until it is already too late that I realise I should have just ordered an uber.

Alex was very insistent that I order one home from my late shift at the pub. He had even offered to split the cost, knowing without needing to ask this was the cause of my hesitation. It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford it. Strictly speaking, I could. I was just keenly aware of the amount of material I could buy with the amount a late night uber in London would cost me. I would never take him up on his offer. He needed the money just as much as I did.

“It’s okay, I’m good for it,” I gave him a little smile. He was sitting in front of his mirror in his room, midway through getting ready for work. I had simply come to say goodbye before I left for my shift when he had grabbed me by the hand and demanded I ordered an uber home.

“Babe, you have to promise me.”

“I promise!” I stared exaggeratedly into his eyes as I spoke, emphasising my honesty.

In that moment, I made peace with the money I would be losing from my fabric budget. I calculated this budget, of course, by subtracting living expenses from my weekly income. My best friend wanted to make sure I got home safe, wanted the peace of mind while he was working that I would be fine. Who was I to say no to that?

“Make sure you text me when you get into the uber and once you make it up to the apartment.” My chest flooded with warmth at the love and care in his voice. It was moments like these I really sat back and thanked my lucky stars that Alex was in my life.

So, of course I was just going to bite the bullet and order the uber. Of course.

Except, well.

I couldn’t help but think how quickly I got from our place to work. We had picked the apartment just one short month ago, heavily considering the advantage of its walking distance to my work. The King’s Arms was just one block up and down the road. It was barely a fifteen-minute walk. Shorter than that if I took the shortcut down the alleyway back to our block, saving me from walking further down the road and looping back around. It would probably take me longer to get home via uber, once you account for the time spent waiting for it to arrive.

A ten-minute walk home wouldn’t kill me, surely.

The contemplation was pushed from my mind for the duration of my busy Saturday night shift. It was my least favourite shift of the week, as I spent each week chasing after middle aged men getting rowdy in the excitement of watching whatever sport was on TV. The King’s Arm was small, but it was a local favourite known for its homey pub meals, reasonably priced pints and good atmosphere. Much to my contempt they didn’t keep a large staff pool, preferring a smaller, well-trained, reliable bunch. Which was great in theory until it left me to run around like my hair is on fire on a night as busy as tonight.

I was capable of serving everyone well and in a timely manner, but it wasn’t exactly a stroll in the park. More like a seven-hour long sprint, with a half hour break in the middle.

As the final game for the night ended, the crowd slowly but surely thinned until just a couple of small groups remained.

“Hey y/n, are you okay to lock up by yourself if I head home in five?” my manager, Rachel asked me half an hour before close. “I have some time I need to take back,” she added in explanation.

“Of course, you go get out of here.” I knew she wasn’t lying when she said she had some time to take back, putting in all sorts of extra hours to keep the place in tip top shape. I liked Nicola, and I had certainly been working there long enough to handle a couple of customers and lock up by myself. Even if I didn’t like Rachel and thought she was slacking off, I couldn’t exactly argue. She was both my boss and the owner’s daughter, probably not far off becoming the owner herself.

“Are you sure?” She asked, eyeing the few men still seated, probably triple checking she didn’t think they were any kind of threat.

“Yes,” I laughed, “now scram, before I change my mind.”

“Alright if you insist,” she said, already making her way towards her bag.

“Ring me if you need anything! Good night!” She called over her shoulder as she exited through the kitchen door. The cook had gone home ten minutes earlier, the pub serving only drinks the hour before close at midnight.

“Night!” I called back.

I made quick work of what little cleaning there was left to do, and gently reminded the remaining patrons we closed in half an hour. To my surprise they were agreeable and friendly, one of them instantly assuring me, “Don’t worry love we’ll be out of your hair soon, won’t make you stay back late.”

Usually the kind of people that were in the pub this late had no care for closing time, believing that pertained simply to whenever they decided they wanted to leave.

True to his word, everyone was out with ten minutes to spare and I was able to clean their dishes and tables with the remaining time they had granted me. I locked the door to The King’s Arms at 12 o’clock on the dot and riding the high of such an easy close, took not a moment in deciding I was in fact going to walk home.

To Alex: Just ordered an uber!

I felt guilty lying, but I would rather lie than have Alex worrying over nothing. I would be home in a flash, keys secured firmly in between my knuckles the whole way. I felt far safer on the move than waiting out the front of work for an uber anyway.

I kept a fast pace, left only to debate whether I took my shortcut or stuck to the street. I checked over my shoulder, and seeing absolutely no one around, made a quick right turn into the alleyway between two buildings.

I grabbed my phone from my back pocket as I heard the ding of a text notification. I glance down at my screen, reading as I walk.

From Alex: Amazing! I should be home in a couple hours, text me when you get home safe. Love you x

I don’t register the hushed growling tones as I continue making my way down the alley, still looking down at my phone as I type a simple ‘love you’ in reply. It isn’t uncommon to hear the conversations of tenants on the lower levels of these apartment buildings as you walk down the street. Walls are thin and many windows generally left open. It is easy to consign this particular conversation among the other non-threatening city sounds until I eventually look back up from my phone.

I am immediately faced with a most unfavourable scene, under the single light that illuminates this alley, are the two men who I now recognise to be the source of the argument I had barely registered. The first man is tall, dressed in all black, thick muscles protruding through his t-shirt. He towered over the second man who contrasted him starkly in his bright red adidas tracksuit. The tall man’s presence would be dominating the space, even if he didn’t have his dark forearm pressed firmly against the smaller man’s throat.

I clamp a hand over my mouth, stopping myself from yelping stupidly and drawing attention to myself. They haven’t noticed my presence. A witness to whatever it was that was occurring here.

“See all I’m hearing is excuses, bruv,” the tall man’s accent is distinctly that of someone from South London. His tone is aggressive, but even. He knows he has the upper hand and it is clearly not his first rodeo threatening people. This is exactly the kind of person I could’ve avoided encountering by simply ordering an uber.

I snap out of my shocked daze and start to turn to make a swift and stealthy departure. I’m no fool. I know there is a definitive gang presence around here. I also know, if you leave them alone, they too shall (hopefully)leave you. All hopes of making such an exit are of course foiled as soon as my foot connects with an empty beer bottle on my first step.

The two men’s heads snap towards me instantly. I expect the shorter man to ask for help, to say something, but his mouth remains clamped shut. Gang business. He is in a bigger mess than someone like me can ever save him from. The taller man’s eyes narrow. After the briefest moments of standing there frozen, caught, I spin on my heel and run as fast as my feet can carry me.

I run back to the route I should have taken, cursing myself all the way for being naïve enough to believe that nothing bad could happen to me on something as simple as a walk home from work. That women who were raped, kidnapped and murdered from off the street were somehow removed from me. That was something only on the news in my world. Not something that was possibly about to occur.

My heart hammers in my chest as I make the split-second decision, I am safer running all the way home than running as far as I can from the scene of the crime. I’m going to run all the way up the stairs to my fifth-floor apartment, and I am going to lock the door behind me. I turn the corner back up to my block, not slowing down for a second.

I am so quick in fact, that as I come flying around the next corner towards my apartment, I nearly barrel straight into someone. He was clearly walking with some pace too, because he narrowly prevents us crashing into each other head on, but he is a second too slow in his reaction time because I trip straight over his feet. I hardly even see him, even as I am falling straight over him. All I see is brown hair and a dark suit before I’m staring straight at the pavement flying towards my face. I barely manage to throw my forearms out to break my fall as I hit the pavement at speed.

“Jesus,” the man mutters, but the only thing I can hear is my heavy breathing and my own blood pounding in my ears.

I’m on the ground now, I register for a second before my flight response kicks back in.

I don’t even feel the sting of the scrapes with the adrenaline coursing through me, already attempting to scramble up and get as far away as possible from this stranger. “I’m so sorry!” I manage to call as I pick myself and my keys up, gearing up to get moving once more.

“Honey?”

No. It absolutely could not possibly be. There was only one person on this planet who had ever called me by that name.

I stop dead in my tracks. That voice. It’s deeper than I remember but undoubtedly familiar. Familiar seems too simple a word. That voice had echoed around the halls of my brain for years. Even now, six years later, it was not gone but buried, waiting for a simple trigger to spark my memory and bring that beautiful sound back to the forefront my mind. Some days I swear I remembered it like I had just heard it moments ago.

Except now, I really had heard him.

Slowly, I turned to face him.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Before he can verbalise any of the questions on the tip of his tongue, I grab his hand in my own, and yank him forward as I continue running home.

Realistically, I know that we now outnumber whoever it was that may be coming after me and I know even six years since I’ve last seen him, I am always safe with Harry. He proved that in many ways, and more than once, while I knew him. I was not, however, willing to risk the tall man pulling a knife on Harry. I didn’t even want to put him in a situation where it was a battle of fists. Though I did know from experience he could more than hold his own.

“What’s going on?” he yells as we run down the street, rapidly approaching the exit of the alleyway I had fled.

I gradually reduce our pace until we are speed-walking past the alleyway. Tempted as I am to see if they are still there, I keep my eyes trained forward, praying they aren’t there watching us as we pass by.

As soon as we have cleared it, I’m straight back to my running pace, forcing Harry to accelerate speed once more.

“I’ll explain inside,” I call over my shoulder in answer to his earlier question.

Now that I felt a degree safer with Harry’s presence, I had the capacity to feel thankful I had opted for a boiler suit and converse for tonight to accommodate for the Saturday night rush. This run would have been hell if I had worn a skirt and a heeled boot instead.

“Inside where?” He’s laughing as he speaks and as the fear loosens its grip on me, the déjà vu begins to battle for dominance. That laugh had brightened my every day for long enough to leave a mark on my soul. Fleeting as it was, that single sound reignited the shine it had once left.

His question was answered when we came to a screeching halt in front of my apartment. It took me two tries to input my security code correctly, my brain and hands both moving quickly, but not quite matching up. Eventually, the door clicked, and I was able to swing it open, tugging Harry in after me.

I didn’t stop dragging him along behind me until we had taken all five flights of stairs up to my apartment two at a time.

“y/n…” he attempted to grab my attention when we first entered the building, but I was not to be deterred until we had reached the absolute safety of my apartment. I shushed him, not wanting to receive a noise complaint from my new neighbours. I supposed having such a thought was a good sign, my consciousness beginning to register it was not in any imminent danger.

I huffed and puffed as we landed at the doorstep of apartment 5B, the place I loved to call home. Harry, I noticed, was barely short of breath. He had always been a runner when we were in high school. I wondered if he kept up the habit even now.

My hands shook as I located the correct key on my chain, body still shaking from the excitement of the events of the past five minutes. I struggled to align the key with the lock with my left hand, unthinking of the fact my right was still firmly in Harry’s hold.

“Let me,” he murmured, already moving his right hand to take the key. I said nothing, simply surrendering it over to him.

His hands were steady as anything as he turned the key, granting us entrance into my home. I released a breath I didn’t realise I had been holding. I finally stopped just past the door, my back to Harry as he shut it behind him. I took a few deep breaths, trying so desperately to ground myself.

Was any of this even real? The sketchy characters I could believe in a heartbeat, Harry Styles’ presence, however, was harder to grasp.

But there his hand was, in my own, even if I couldn’t see him.

Harry stood back and let me take this moment to myself, keenly aware of how much I needed it. He knew I needed to take pause and re-centre myself otherwise I would only shut down. He was also aware of my injured state though, even if I wasn’t.

“y/n, you’re bleeding.”

“Oh,” my head snapped back to look at my arm. In the rush to get home, the blood from the scrapes on my arm had run down my arm and dripped into our connected hands. I quickly released my grasp on him. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“A little bit of blood never hurt anyone,” he quickly dismissed. “Unless you’re the one that’s bleeding, in which case you better get cleaned up as soon as possible.

“Luckily you have me here to play nurse. Just lead the way to the nearest bathroom,” he gave me a little cheeky grin, clearly trying to lift your spirits. The subtle playfulness is not as natural as it once was, but it is certainly reminiscent of our old dynamic. The surrealism of this whole thing goes straight to my head, clouding my ability to form full, coherent thoughts.

Somehow, I manage to come out with, “I think you mean our only bathroom,” in response.

He grunts a laugh, but he hasn’t missed the use of the word our.

I walk like a zombie, leading him through the hallway past the living room and the kitchen to the bathroom. I hold my forearms up in an attempt to redirect the flow of the blood and prevent it from dripping from my fingertips onto the floor. As I slowly came out of survival mode, my awareness of the stinging of my forearms became increasingly prominent. I was sure my hip and knees were going to be bruised pretty badly too. I really hadn’t managed to slow down at all before all my momentum came crashing into the cement.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” He asks upon our arrival to the bathroom.

“Under the sink.”

My eyes trail over the mess Alex and I had left in our rush to get ready.

I tend to procrastinate getting ready for as long as possible, busying myself with just about anything else. Generally, it will be tidying up the mess I’ve made during the day, only for me to create a whole new one in my hurry to get ready for my shift on time. Alex on the other hand, always leaves plenty of time to perfect his look before leaving for the night. Despite having the time to do so, he never cleans as he goes. Leaving his many products and deliberated outfits spread far and wide. Luckily most of his mess was confined to his bedroom, the only trace of him in the bathroom skincare and hair products (though there wasn’t a limited amount of those, either).

“I’m sorry for the mess,” I speak quietly watching Harry get his bearings, standing helplessly as I bled, hands still raised.

“Nonsense,” he doesn’t look at me as he speaks, jumping into action.

Harry turns the faucet on in the sink before opening the cupboard door and grabbing the first aid kid out. It was actually sort of a miracle Alex and I had one. It had been on a list of “Things You Need for a New Apartment” I had googled, scared we were missing important things. At the time, I had deliberated longer than necessary over whether to get one. I couldn’t remember the last time I had required anything more than a band aid for any given ailment. The deciding factor had been the memory of Alex getting into a couple of scrapes while out over the years. It had never been anything major, the worst injury he ever sustained being a bruised jaw, but it was better to be safe than sorry, I decided.

Turns out, that decision was for the best.

He gently touches his fingertips to my right arm, which had copped the brunt of it. With the softest touch, he delicately guided my arm under the stream of water. As I stepped forward to lean over the sink and wash away the dirt of the footpath, he stepped backwards, giving me my space.

I winced at the initial contact of the water as it ran red. I risked a glance at my reflection. Sweaty brow, the light lazy work makeup I had applied half off my face. I quickly diverted my gaze back to my injured arm. This was not exactly how I pictured our reunion. I had hardly ever even pictured it, I was so sure that I would never see Harry again.

I wondered if this silence was as heavy as I thought it was. Everything about him felt so familiar, yet so different. Up until this moment it felt like being in the presence of a friend, but now I realised, he was closer to a stranger.

I knew the person he once was, a sweet but fucked up kid who had been forced to become a man too early. Someone who had his walls a mile high around almost everyone. Almost. The boy who painted his nails on lunch breaks and was friends with everyone but somehow also no one. Until he was friends with me. Then he was the boy who always sat to my left from the first bell of the school day to the last. Back then, I knew him from the inside out, just as he knew me.

He was my greatest joy of those years. Then he was my greatest heartbreak. Now, he was just some guy I used to know who I had plucked straight up off the street, looking very out of place in what was clearly a designer suit in my tiny apartment.

He looked through the first aid kit as I ensured the entirety of the scrape was rinsed. It extended most of the way from my elbow to my wrist, but more pressingly in my mind, it now stung like a bitch. Once the water rain clear as it ran off my arm, I moved onto the much smaller and shallower scrape on my left elbow, working quickly to get it clean.

Most of the bleeding had stopped, only a few spots on my right arm still dotting with blood. I leaned over the sink to prevent the water from dripping onto the floor.

I cleared my throat, nervous to break the silence.

“Can you please grab me that towel?” I nodded my head towards the black hand towel hung behind Harry.

His eyes snapped upwards from the first aid kit he had been busying himself with. I was sure he had been surveying it more thoroughly than strictly necessary, trying to detract from the awkward energy which had crept up on us. We made brief eye contact through the mirror. My breath caught in my throat. The moment was over as soon as it began as he turned wordlessly to grab the towel.

He holds it in his hand, hesitating before handing it over, “Did you want me to…?” he trails off, growing awkward in his offer. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. She barely knows you, back off, he tells himself.

“No that’s okay,” I speak gently, and he quickly passes the towel to me. I get to work patting my arms down delicately.

“Thank you though,” I add, hating the unsure look on his face. I meet his eye, giving him a smile I hope is reassuring.

“Okay, let’s get you sitting down so I can fix you up,” he returns your smile with a slight upturn of the right side of his mouth.

I relocate to the little dining table Alex and I had bought at Ikea just a week prior. Harry isn’t far behind, washing his hands before joining me to tend to my wounds. He lays out everything he is going to need from the first aid kit before holding his hand out. Like an idiot, I stare at his hand without moving for a beat too long before jerkily offering my right arm up.

He laughs silently as he turns my arm over, analysing it carefully.

“So, do you often go for runs at midnight?” He asks as he unscrews the lid on the Vaseline.

“Yeah all the time. I just don’t normally take people from the street with me.”

“Is that all I am? A person on the street?” He tries to keep his tone light, but I can tell he was hurt by my choice of words.

I expect to feel guilty, but a burst of anger I thought I had long gotten over flares in my chest. It isn’t as red hot and overwhelming as it had been years before – I’d definitely had my fair share of time to cool off – but I’m still surprised by the sting of it.

He was the one that made himself a stranger to me, and now he’s upset when I’m stating the fact that he made a reality.

Despite myself, I tried not to come across too harshly in my response. I was never one for confrontation.

“I mean, I haven’t heard from you in six years.”

He is very careful not to lift his eyes from my injuries as he carefully applies the petroleum jelly. I stare down at him, desperate to catch his eye.

There’s a pause as I wait for him to offer some kind of explanation. Some perfectly good reason why my best friend and first love left town without telling me why, or where he was going, and then never contacted me again.

When he doesn’t fill the silence, I sigh as quietly as I can manage. You don’t really know him, I remind myself. I practically kidnapped him, I can’t just go asking him to rehash history. It was so clear that he was what he had wanted me to be. History.

“I just mean, I don’t really know you anymore. I’m sorry I grabbed you like that, I just,” I hissed at the sting of his first aid, “I was walking home from work and I saw these really sketchy looking guys.”

“Sketchy looking?” He finally looked up at me, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Well I guess they didn’t really look sketchy in their appearance particularly, it was more the fact that one of them was practically choking the other. They were arguing over something. I think it was something to do with some of the gangs around here,” I attempted a nonchalant tone, not wanting to worry him. The less phased I seemed, the better. I had caused him enough trouble. The only thing that was probably stopping him from running for the hills and never looking back (again) was guilt.

I go on to explain how I’d kicked that stupid beer bottle and taken off running, “which is when I ran into you. I’m really sorry about that, by the way. I’m so glad I didn’t take you down with me I think I would’ve died of a mix of guilt and embarrassment right then and there.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ho-“he cut himself before his mouth could form that name he had so affectionately given you. “I’m the one who feels guilty, if not for my big, slow feet you wouldn’t have bit the dust.” I laugh at his turn of phrase.

His face suddenly grows serious. “Your head is okay, right?”

Instinctively, my left hand shoots up to the back of my head, ghosting over the slight bump hidden under my hair. The scar tissue was ever so minimally raised, only perceptible to a knowing touch. I retract my hand bashfully, slightly embarrassed by my knee jerk reaction.

“It’s fine,” I match his serious tone, before lightening it up, “as you can see, I managed to break most of my fall,” I gesture to my right arm he has paused work on.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer, discerning whether he thinks I am downplaying anything. He picks up the dressing, moving onto the next phase of his treatment plan.

“And they don’t feel broken? You can move your wrists okay without too much pain?”

My heart swells at his concern. I stamp out the small joy as soon as it flared up. It’s guilt that’s fuelling him. Nothing else.

I shake my head no. He looks up once more, having missed the gesture in his concentration. “Sorry! No. All bumps and bruises. I’m fine honestly, I probably majorly overexaggerated the whole thing and freaked out for nothing. I’m really sorry about all this, its so late at night.”

“Don’t apologise,” he says firmly. “It’s not your fault and you did exactly the right thing by making a break fo’ it. You never know what could’ve happened. Ya’ know. Out late. By yourself. In the dark.”

My face burned red with shame, but also defiance. I knew what I did was stupid and extremely risky, but I also didn’t think I needed a lecture about it in this moment. The fear still coursing through me and my scraped-up arms were surely lesson enough.

“I could say the same thing to you,” I countered.

We both knew my argument didn’t hold up very well. He was a man out alone at night. There was obviously a risk there, but it wasn’t the same.

We also both knew, I wasn’t really trying to start a debate. Just signalling to him I didn’t want to get into it and wanted to move on.

“I was walking to the tube from a mate’s place,” he explained simply, letting me off the hook.

He had begun to tape the dressing down to my skin, securing it safely. He worked expertly. Even if I didn’t already know, I would have said this was one of many times he had done some at home first aid.

“In a designer suit?” I questioned. There were two things I was asking, but also not saying. Was this the kind of ‘mate’ you wine and dine before going home with them? And what happened to that poor kid from Holmes Chapel I once knew?

“I came straight from work.”

Jesus he wasn’t giving me a lot to work with in the way of details.

“Oh,” I say lamely, not wanting to pry. As much as I could tell myself (and him) that I didn’t really know him anymore and he was basically a stranger, it still hurt to be treated like one. We used to be so open with one another. The one thing I ever kept from him was how I truly felt about him.

“I work in finance,” he offers up after a beat of silence. “It uh- I’m pretty lucky to have the job I do,” he alludes to his financial standing, obviously wanting to acknowledge the contrast comparative to how I knew him. A boy not even of eighteen, fending for himself while trying to complete his high school education.

My face practically split in two with the size of the smile on my face at his words. “I’m so happy for you, Harry,” I say, hoping he can see how genuinely I mean it.

“Thank you.”

“Are you happy, H?” The question slips out before I can stop it. Internally, I kick myself. Externally, I try to keep my face neutral, yet interested. That’s a perfectly normal question to ask. Totally.

“Um,” he switches to my left elbow, making quicker work of the smaller wound. “I think so. In my experience you never realise how happy you are until you aren’t. But still, I think I am.”

“Good,” I say firmly. “I’m glad.”

“What about you?” He turns the questioning back on you. “What’s your story?”

“Oh, you know. The sad story of the girl chasing a dream,” I nodded my head towards the sewing machine stationed at the other end of the table.

“Don’t say that!” His tone jests, but he is serious as he speaks. “I think it would be far sadder if I discovered that your talent was going to waste. I’m really glad to hear that actually,” he half says the last sentence to himself, concentrating on fixing his dressing properly on the more difficult angle of my elbow.

“There you go,” he gleams as he admires his handy work. “Good as new.”

“Thank you so much, Harry. I’m so sorry for all this-“

“Not your fault,” he quickly dismisses.

“Even so, I’m sorry for all the trouble. I’ll pay for an uber home for you or something,” I try to come up with something to offer him that can even begin to repay him for his help.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” His brow creases in concern.

“Oh, Alex should be-“ I smack a hand over my mouth, realising I never texted him to let him know I had gotten home okay.

“Oh fuck,” I remove my hand from my mouth. I gingerly fish my phone out of my back pocket, muscles beginning to protest, the impact of that fall settling in.

Four missed calls and a flurry of text messages. My phone had automatically turned onto ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode as scheduled at 12:30. I hadn’t been notified of any of it and he had definitely assumed the worst.

“Is everything okay?”

“I forgot to text him and let him know I made it home okay,” I don’t look up as I speak, opening our text chat.

From Alex: I’m coming home

Received ten minutes ago.

“Your boyfriend?” He questioned, keeping his face impassive. That had my head shooting up.

“Uh-“ I began, but cut myself off as the unmistakeable sound of heeled feet running up the stairs to our apartment ran out loud and clear.

Shit.

Before I could even think what to say next, Alex’s key was in the lock. The door swung open, smacking the wall with the force of it.

Both Harry and Alex’s brows hit their bloody hairline I swear. Or more accurately, Lexie’s.

There my best friend and roommate stood, in full drag, light catching the sequins of the pink mini-dress I had sewn myself. If I weren’t standing there with the guiltiest expression of my life, I would be thinking about how stunning she looked.

Harry looked between the two of you, as Lexie did the same. Both trying to catch their brains up to what they were seeing. I myself was at a loss for words. I probably should have started with, “Lex, I am so sorry,” but Harry broke the silence first.

“Wow, you look amazing,” he breathed, transfixed by the look Lexie had created. Drag was an art form, and she was quite the artist. He was not the first to become enchanted upon first look, and he certainly would not be the last.

Lexie narrowed her eyes at Harry, jaw falling slightly open at the audacity of the acknowledgement in this moment. She had little patience for besotted strangers in moments like this. Her narrowed eyes moved to mine, face filling with rage.

“Lex-“ I begin, but am cut off for what seems to be the millionth time tonight with the simple raise of her hand. The close of my mouth is instant. I was not about to make this any worse.

“Bitch, if you do not have a very good explanation for this,” she breathes deeply, trying to gain her composure, “I am going to fucking kill you.”

********

As soon as he is out of your apartment and onto the street, his phone is in his hand. Fingers not able to press to type the message fast enough for his liking.

From Harry: We need to talk. I saw her.

As soon as the message was delivered, he was returning the calls he had silenced in y/n’s presence. The moment she had turned her back and left him to wash his hands, he had turned his phone to airplane mode.

“Jesus Christ bruv, I thought you were dead,” Michael joked as soon as he picked up.

The two of them had parted ways for what should’ve been five or ten minutes. Harry hadn’t seen it happen, just heard the clatter of the beer bottle as it skated along the ground and the screeching halt in the argument. He had been waiting patiently for Michael to finish working in the shadowy doorway to the side. He hadn’t seen a thing, and he was sure from his concealed position, whoever had seen Mike hadn’t seen him. So, he obligingly offered to take a walk, ensure she hadn’t gone calling the police.

He had just been bored. Ready to go home and have a drink with Michael so he could have a bitch and a moan about work. It always left him feeling better when he returned on Monday. He was killing time, that was all. He hadn’t expected to stumble over the girl who had changed everything.

Harry didn’t take time to explain his extended absence, moving straight along to what he had called for. Just like Mike, he preferred to skip the pleasantries.

“I need you to subtly divert as much traffic from this block as possible,” he didn’t ask. He never asked. It was always an instruction with him. In this business, asking nicely didn’t exactly lend itself to going far.

“What’s this about?” Harry gritted his teeth. He did not enjoy having his authority questioned. The only reason Michael would get away with it was because of their pre-existing friendship. Even then. Harry was not exactly in a forgiving mood. Made all the worse when Mike added, “This isn’t about that girl from the alley is it?”

Michael had his answer when Harry said only, “Get it done or I’ll have your fookin’ head.”

chat with me about butterfly effect!

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fatiguing-thoughts · 4 years ago

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“Fate” - Paul Lahote

Request: The reader (shy!fem!reader) meets Paul (twilight) in the woods while he is in wolf form and he imprints on her. Coz the reader is shy and has no friends (lol) she befriends the 'wolf'. So when they have been friends for a while Paul finally transforms into his human form and explains everything and then fluff? Thank you 😊❤️

The crunching of leaves. That’s all I can hear now. I continued walking forward, loving the noise and the smell of the pine trees around me.

This was my daily routine now, for the last week. The woods were always my safe place, where I went to clear my head. It’s where I always spent my free time, my time for my personal thoughts.

I had just moved to Forks about three week ago, I came from Oregon. I wanted to be closer to the Olympic National Forest, and for some reason, it just called to me. It called to be my new home.

I spent the first couple of weeks unpacking and settling, but the newfound freedom and time to explore the great forests around my small town were beyond enticing.

The loneliness was setting in, pushing me to go into the woods more and more. Even though I was still lonely out here, it was much better than being alone in the house. I missed my family and friends, but living here was something that just felt like I was doing something… right.

The loneliness out here wasn’t as deafening than in my small home. I felt better surrounded by trees, listening to the sounds of nature, or the lack of normal everyday sound; it was music to my ears.

As I pressed forward, I found the new clearing I chose the other day. This one a little bigger than the last, more calming to me.

I put my blanket down, played some soothing music; a beautiful composition. I took out my sketchbook, drawing my surroundings.

That’s when I heard the grass shift across the clearing. The leaves crunching, a shift in the atmosphere. The feeling washed over me, I was no longer alone.

I felt my breath hitch as I tore my eyes away from the sketchbook, looking across the clearing.

I saw a wolf. An enormous wolf. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I’ve seen wolves, and they’re not anywhere near the size of this. I wouldn’t even come up to the shoulder on this one, it had to be about 6 feet tall on all fours. This couldn’t be real.

I blink hard, but when I open my eyes, it doesn’t go away, my sight was not deceiving me.

That’s when it happened, our eyes connected. I couldn’t break the eye contact, neither did the massive creature.

The wind got knocked out of me, I felt something in me shift. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but it wasn’t fear.

No, fear was the last thing from my mind. What I felt was peace. I couldn’t imagine why I felt so at peace with a creature that could kill me faster than I could blink, but it’s all I felt.

I broke the eye contact away, hoping that I didn’t make the situation worse and frighten the wolf.

It walks a bit closer, head low. I still feel that feeling, the feeling of someone sitting on my chest-- but in the best way.

“Jesus.” I mutter as it moves closer.

The paws were easily the size of my head, thumping along the path to me. I felt the ground move as it got closer.

A look of curiosity and caution painted the enormous face, eyes never tearing from mine.

“Holy shit.” I mutter again.

It stops in its tracks, about five feet from me, looking at me as if it was asking for permission to approach closer.

I gulp and swallow the lump in my throat. The sense of peace and calm is still radiating through my body. I stood up from my spot, feeling as if it was the best thing to do at this moment.

The wolf nods its head towards me, in which I nod back.

It walks closer before bowing its head, eyes still looking into mine. I see my reflection in the iris. Its eyes were that of a beautiful chocolate brown. I admire the rest of the wolf up close, noticing all of the different grey and silver tones in its beautiful fur. I cautiously reach my hand out, knuckles out, offering it to smell me before I even thought about petting it.

As I outstretch my hand, I feel the enormous head under my palm. I begin to graze my fingertips along the top of its head, daring to dance my fingertips upon the center top of its snout.

Its ears laid back against the massive head, leaning more weight into my touch. The fur was so soft, I found myself growing more and more comfortable with the presence of this being. I was way too close now, I lost all sense of caution.

I smiled at the wolf as I returned the eye contact. It moved even closer, standing against my side. I laid my head upon the side of where its shoulder began. I never felt so small before. I felt a little grumble come from the wolf’s chest before it backed up, and laid down next to my blanket. I plopped myself back down.

I caught the wolf’s eyes wandering over to my drawing of the clearing.

“You like art or something?” I chuckled softly, knowing how silly it may seem to be talking to this wolf, though deep down I felt we had some kind of understanding.

The wolf nodded, before placing its head on my leg. The head was heavier than I imagined, but I enjoyed it. It was a soothing weight. The nod must have been coincidental, I tell myself.

I then begin to scratch behind its ears, and laying the rest of my body down, head still on the front of my thigh.

“This is the best, well only, company I’ve had in a month.” I smile to myself, once again trying to converse with the creature.

I heard a large huff of air and felt the warmth on my thigh grow, the breath passing through my jeans.

I check the time on my phone, seeing that it was later than I thought. The wolf and I sat here for hours, though they passed quickly.

“I should leave now, sunset is approaching. I gotta get out of here before dark. After all, who knows what’s in here.” I chuckle as I begin to sit up, getting my things together into my backpack.

The wolf looks at me, puffs again, and almost seems to roll its eyes. I could’ve sworn it looked just like it did.

As I begin walking, I notice the wolf walking beside me.

“Ah, walking me to my car? A gentleman, I see.” I laugh softly to myself.

As we approach the end of the forest, the beginning of the treeline and my parked car in sight, the wolf looks down at me.

I return the eye contact, and scratch behind the ear again, earning the leaning of the massive head into my hand.

“This is an everyday thing for me. Same place tomorrow.” I say laughing at how ridiculous I sound.

I earn another nod from the wolf and can’t help but feel that it truly understands what I’m saying.

I walk over to my car, the distance between the wolf and I growing. I felt empty as the space grew, a newer feeling. I walked over to my car and looked back to see the wolf standing where I left it.

I wave goodbye, earning a nod from the massive being. I get into my car and watch it run away, faster than I’ve seen anything move.

The drive home was quick, as it mostly consisted of replaying the days events.

I knew for certain that I was either insane or blessed.

Sleeping tonight came easier than ever before. No nightmares, though the eyes of the beautiful creature filled my dreams that night.

I woke up the next morning feeling at ease, but also if something was missing. I was almost counting down the minutes until I got to go back to my little clearing. Hopefully doing some work will make the day pass faster.

I ferociously finish my work for the day, hoping that it would make time pass. Though my mind continuously wanders back to yesterday.

Was it even real?

What if the creature didn’t show up today? Would I just have imagined the understanding that I thought we had? Was the connection just an imagination?

No, I know what I saw. I am not insane, I am not making any of this up.

As the agonizing hours passed, I sat and drew. I found myself drawing the eyes of the creature. They were all I could see all day.

I look over at the clock and basically spring off of my couch, grabbing my keys and backpack to head back out to the woods.

I walk over into the clearing and sit in my previous spot on the blanket. This time I had some snacks with me, as I didn’t eat today from being so distracted.

I began to peel my orange when I heard the snapping of a branch behind me. I took a sip of my water as I turned to look at what was behind me.

The deep, chestnut brown eyes looking down at me. I felt such a connection to this wolf, I felt safe.

It then moves next to where I sat, laying down once more.

I place my orange down back onto the brown paper bag.

“Blueberries?” I outstretch my hand with a few berries in it, offering it to the creature.

His snout found my hand, hot breath finding its way into my palm. The rough tongue and soft scraping of teeth against my palm as it took the berries from my hand.

I smile before getting some more, offering again. The wolf once again took the food from my hand.

I truly enjoyed the company, though it did confuse me more than anything. I couldn’t describe the connection I felt to this magical being, but it was there.

I began to make some small talk to the wolf, though I know I would not get a response.

“You’re my first and only friend, bud. I moved here a little less than a month ago. Still unsure of what brought me here, but I think things are starting to add up. I just miss having people around, ya know?” I look over to the creature, noticing that their eyes never left my face.

The wolf nods, putting his head back into my leg and nuzzling into me. I scratch behind their ears.

“Anyway, I left Oregon to come here. I miss my friends and family, but I think I’ll be happier here. So far, I’m loving the new scenery. I used to spend a lot of time in the woods back there, it’s where I have my personal thoughts, where I unwind. Now that I’m here, I already have a buddy so soon. I always did it alone, but here you are. Even though you can’t talk, I enjoy your company.” I spoke softly to the being.

Its eyes never broke from mine, just like always.

“Your eyes are magnificent.” I softly chuckled.

The wolf nuzzles closer to me, and I lay down on my blanket.

This is how I spent my days now. This continued for weeks. Getting closer to this beautiful creature, befriending the most beautiful being that ever existed on the planet.

Until one day, when I showed up to the clearing at the usual time. My new friend nowhere in sight.

I sat down in our usual spot, waiting for the arrival of the creature.

I waited for about ten minutes before I finally heard the relieving crunching of twigs and leaves behind me.

“It’s about time you showed up, I got worried.” I bit back my smile.

The wolf had a telling look in its eyes today, almost nervous.

I scratched behind the large ear, once again being leaned into. I grew to really love this.

As soon as I sat down, I noticed the wolf didn’t follow suit as per usual.

It looked me in the eyes, nodding its head to the treeline. My eyes followed as the wolf walked behind the brush.

I stood up, but didn’t follow the being out of the clearing. I watched from the treeline as it disappeared just out of view.

Then I heard it.

The shifting of bones. The brush disturbed from movement.

I back up cautiously.

A moment later, a tall, muscular man walks out of the tree line.

I back up a bit out of surprise. I observed him in his entirety. His cutoff jean shorts, t-shirt, and beat up old shoes. Beautiful russet skin, cropped black hair, and... deep chestnut brown eyes.

Those eyes. The ones that engulfed me into a state of peace with every look. I would recognize those eyes in a sea of people.

The tall man smiles at me, walking closer.

I don’t back up this time, confused yet comforted by the look in his eyes. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen, I was drawn to him.

“(Y/N), it’s me.” The man says.

“How do you know my name?” I question.

“Well, you told me a few weeks ago. Well, my other form.” He chuckles.

“Okay, maybe I am nuts.” I laugh softly.

“No, you’re not. Well, after listening to you for weeks, you might be. But, I have a lot of explaining to do. I’m Paul by the way.” He chuckles.

“Hi Paul.”

We walk over to my blanket and he sits with me.

“So, I guess I’ll explain to you what I am.” He says, slightly smirking at me.

“I think you should, I’m very confused right now.” I smile back.

“Well, I’m what you would call a shapeshifter. I shift into a wolf. You met me in that form.” His chestnut brown eyes peering into my soul, pleading for my attention.

“But how? Why?” I manage to speak.

“Well, we’re not the only magical beings. But it’s a Quileute legend, well clearly a lot more than a legend… I’m a protector of the land and people. But these are tribal secrets.” He says, still never breaking eye contact.

“Protector? From what?” I was now concerned.

“Well, vampires.” He answered, laughing at how crazy it sounds to say out loud, to explain to an outsider.

“Vampires are real? And they’re here?” I ask, slightly getting fearful.

“Yes. There’s been some coming into the area for some, not for anything good. There’s a coven here, though they’re what you call ‘good ones,’ only feeding off animals instead of humans.” He explains.

“Wow, this is insane. But, how did you find me?”

“Well, one of the other members of the pack picked up your scent, as well as one of the vampires we were looking for. So we took turns watching to make sure they didn’t hunt you. Which by the way, you should not be spending so much time in the woods alone. Have you ever heard of bears? Or murderers? Have you learned anything from horror movies?” He laughed.

“Yes. I have. But it’s just, it’s what feels right for me.” I admitted.

“I understand. You seem like one with nature.” He laughs.

“So you guys protected me?” I jump back a step.

“Yeah, well we took turns while the others went other places.”

“Oh, so why did you stay for weeks? And why did you hang out with me?” “Well, when it was my turn, something happened. And then I couldn’t leave you. I needed to be the one who watched over you. I wanted to get to know you, I wanted to meet you. We connected.”

“I know, I felt that. I feel like I’ve known you for ages. But what happened? How are we connected? Why do I get to know the tribal secrets?” I asked, I needed to understand.

“Well, you’ve taken this so well. So there’s this thing. It’s called imprinting.” He finally looks down at his hands.

“Imprinting?” I question.

He looks back into my eyes.

“Well, it’s kinda like soulmates. Like love at first sight, almost. Although, it doesn’t have to be romantic. It’s kind of like-- when it happens, whoever a wolf imprints on, becomes the world. There is no gravity, it’s them holding you down to the Earth. You would do anything, be anything for them. A brother, a protector, a lover. It’s super intense, but it happens to some of us. And well, you’re my imprint.”

I looked at him and nodded. I was trying to take this all in, it all made sense as to why I felt so strongly connected. Why I felt so at peace, why I loved being so close.

“Listen, I know it’s a lot to take in. I understand. But just know that it is dangerous for us to be apart. It’ll hurt us both-- emotionally, physically, mentally. However, you hold the reins here.” He gave me a soft smile.

“This is a lot. You’re right. But, I feel so connected to you. I wanna be around you, I love being around you. I’m so glad you’re actually a real person. However, I do want to take this slow. I want to get to know you as a person, not just the wolf. I want to meet the real you. I want to expand the friendship before any kind of romantic relationship blossoms too fast.” I say honestly.

“That sounds like a great idea. Maybe you can come to the bonfire at La Push tonight. I think it’ll help you understand more. Plus then you’ll meet the rest of the pack. We could work on the friends thing, too.” He smiles from ear to ear, probably excited at the mention of a romantic relationship.

We talked for hours, more about us personally than the imprinting thing, wolf thing, or vampire thing-- we saved that for the bonfire.

The bonfire went well. I met the whole pack. A lot of banter and rough housing between the guys, especially when the imprint jokes came around.

I took a liking to Leah, though she was rough on the outside I felt that we would be great friends.

Over the next few weeks, Paul and I spent almost all our free time together. Things were great. Of course the friends thing didn’t last too long, how could I not want to have this amazing man as my partner? He was caring, sweet, protective, and even handsomer than anyone else I had ever seen. Our relationship was one purer than anything I could’ve ever imagined.

Getting closer to the pack was great, I always had friends around. I loved Emily and helping her cook for the bottomless pit-stomached boys. It was like I was meant to be around, I guess that’s fate for you.

Most of all, I cherished every moment I had with Paul. Stealing hoodies and having more fun than I’ve ever had before.

I loved Paul Lahote more than I could put into words. No words were needed.

This was happiness, this was pure bliss.

We spent our days on hikes, fooling around and rough housing at the beach, and doing whatever we could do together.

He whispered sweet-nothings into my ear at any given chance, causing me to smile, blushing like a maniac. His warm hugs and cuddles, sleeping next to him only brought me peaceful sleep I desired my entire life.

Fate truly is something.

_____________________________

Word Count: 3280

Yes this was long. No I’m not sorry. Yes I enjoyed it. Might have been a swift transition, but it’s super long and idc. Thank you for coming folks

#paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #twilight #twilight x reader #sam uley #jacob black #jared cameron #Quil Ateara #seth clearwater #leah clearwater #brady fuller #collin littlesea #embry call #wolf pack x reader #writing

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starsfic · 3 years ago

Text

It’s Not Him

Summary: Red hears a plea.

Notes: I got this idea for @kitkat1003′s possession au late last night and then typed this out. Hope you don’t mind!

-_-

Hurry!

He didn’t bother to move anything aside. Besides the fact that a deep layer of ice covered all the furniture, making it impossible to move anyway, it would take too much time and leave a trail. Instead, Red scooted and crawled around as quickly as he could, trying his best to not leave a trail of melted ice.

Hurry, hurry, hurry!

He practically dove for the cabinet once he saw it. It was barely big enough for him but it was enough for a hiding spot.

Hurryhurryhurryhurry...

Footsteps, out in the hallway.

HURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHURRY-

One final push and he was inside the cabinet. Quickly, Red managed to squeeze himself in and eased the door back into place best he could. He didn’t bother to close it fully, since the noise would draw attention. Leaving it open would risk him being seen but...

He also needed to see his pursuer.

Within seconds, a boy in a familiar blue jacket entered and Red mentally cursed. It was just his luck that it wasn’t that fake mayor, that it was the last one he ever wanted to see.

“Red! Where are you?”

Shit.

Xiaotian was looking for him. On any other day, this would’ve been fine. But with the increased chill of the room and the fact that some kind of monster was hunting them down, this was very much not fine. Everything in him wanted him to run, get away, but...

It also made him want to step back out. Especially at the little whimper the possessed boy let out.

But a mental voice- that sounded like the Dragon Girl for some reason- said don’t move.

Right. It wasn’t him.

He just needed to remember that.

“Why are you hiding from me?”

Red could barely remember the number of horror movies he’d seen over his lifetime. In many of them, there would be a person hiding, like him. They would be revealed due to their panicked breathing. With that in mind, he slowed his breaths, trying his best to focus on being silent. But that was kind of hard to focus on, given that Xiaotian was right there, a few lights and a proper angle from seeing him in this stupid cabinet.

And this whole year ever since he had attacked him and his parents, had been too much like a horror movie to risk that.

“Is that you’re scared?”

Oh, Red had moved from being ‘scared’ to ‘pure terror’ right now, thank you very much. Seeing your parents and the city you’d lived in encased in ice, barely escaping the same fate, and figuring out you were some piece in a much bigger game really did that to you. He really wanted to push back deeper into the cabinet, but it was too small and it would draw attention.

So Red stood as frozen as those frozen people did.

“You don’t have to be,” Xiaotian said. And that? That soothing, reassuring tone? It sounded like the Noodle Boy before all this started. The worse part was that it sounded truly sincere- like he was the one saving him instead of the other way around.

“I would never let anything harm you.” Stop talking, because right now all he wanted to do was believe him.

“I just want to keep everyone safe.”

Dragon Girl’s voice, again. Don’t talk. Don’t say a word.

He knew better. Right?

“Once I’m done, everything will be perfect. No pain. No lies. No secrets. Nobody will ever have to be alone again!” And oh gods, if that didn’t make him ache. But something else caught his attention, the grand gesture of his arms as he spoke.

Was it for the frozen people?

Or the thing controlling him.

“We’re all here together. We’re all here for each other. Like a family!” Something odd overcame his face and Red nearly broke the no moving rule. What was that? A twitch- As soon as it came, it disappeared.

Fortunately, Xiaotian had taken a few steps in the wrong direction towards a few of the bigger pieces of furniture in whatever frozen store they were in, fortunately now at a spot that put him at a more difficult angle to see him. A look of disappointment appeared when his search turned up nothing. Standing up, he looked around.

“But we can’t be complete without you, Red. Your parents miss you.” He almost jumped at that, but he managed to dig his nails into his palms, grounding himself.

Don’t fucking move.

Right. Okay, he needed to focus. Think of a way out of here once he moved on and get back with the others, hopefully without drawing attention. He could do this. He could-

“...I miss you.”

Immediately, his mind went blank.

No.

“I want you here, with me...”

Stop talking.

“So...”

Shut up, shut up, SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP...

“Please...”

It’s not him, it’s not him, don’t you dare move because it’s not him-

“Won’t you please come out?”

Silence. Red fought back tears because of the sheer loneliness in that plead. He could cry later, once he was alone. But, for right now, he needed to stay hidden!

Thankfully, it seemed that Xiaotian had determined he wasn’t there. He turned and Red caught the heartbroken look on his face. He moved, slightly, just wanted to hug him tight. He froze again as he paused, looking around. And then he was gone.

Now safe, Red fell out of the cabinet.

He gagged, stumbling over to a corner to throw up. That whole thing, that felt like something that should’ve been aimed at Xiaojiao or Pigsy. Because his heart felt like it had been torn out of his chest and stomped on.

He just...

He just needed to remember it wasn’t the Noodle Boy. He just needed to keep reminding himself of that.

It’s not him.

#Monkie Kid #Lego Monkie Kid #Red Son #Qi Xiaotian #MK #au #my writing #fic

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tenderlyrenjun · 4 years ago

Text

the one with the morning classes

summary: you don’t really want to go to class, and Yangyang half-agrees.

↛ ↛ ↛ psych major!Yangyang x art history major!reader

↛ ↛ older female reader, college au, mentions of alcohol, yearning, best friends to lovers/ish, smut (18+) - there is literally sex in every scene, best friend!ten on both sides, study dates, love confessions in bed

↛ word count: 11,9k (I am so sorry lmao)

part one > part two > part three

if you are under 18 and interact with this at all, i will block you

An obnoxious ringing interrupts your day, way too early, and you whine at it, suddenly reminded about the terrible decision that you made last year with the on-call academic advisor: selling your soul to Satan, or, as they phrased it, taking an 8 A.M. class. The default iPhone ringtone seems especially heartless right now, even though you have a class at this time every semester.

Still, it takes Herculean effort to pull your hot, sweaty face out of the pillows and actually get a breath of fresh air. You inhale once, twice, then support yourself on your elbows, tossing all your messy hair over your bare back, like a curtain, to draw it away from your cheeks. The sunlight makes you squint, not having given you enough time to adjust to it yet, because laying in bed, naked, is so much more enticing than actually waking up. Unfortunately, the ringing persists, getting louder, you think. You find yourself clawing through the sheets again, in search of that damn alarm. And when you do find it, screen faced down, you hit snooze via power button, giving yourself extra time before class.

After the annoying sound stops, Yangyang leans toward your naked shoulder, his d!ck thrusting in you at a further angle. He kisses the tip your spine with slightly parted lips, peppering more along your deltoid muscles, directed by his trailing tongue. You cannot tell was tingles more – the goosebumps left in his wake, or the blood rushing to your vulva, caused by the nipping at your skin. Yangyang finds a more permanent spot (that would be hidden by a shirt) above your collarbone and sucks deeper for a few seconds. Instinctively, you drop your cheek into the sheets again and swirl your ass up, before propping your lower body on your knees. His groans fall with you, and he nearly did too, but he stands on his hands. You are very aware of his strength, especially now as you close your eyes and he reverses your moves, grinding his hips forward. One of his hands reaches forward to grab your face and finally kiss you. He is slow and head spinning, and he continuously inclines his head at varying degrees to keep the embrace going.

Then, your phone goes off again and you break the kiss.

“We need to get – Oh, God.” Your forehead redirects onto the mattress, and your breath becomes shallow, cracked by sharp whines blurring out the alarm. As far as you are concerned, Yangyang is all consuming, from the way he kisses you to the way he makes you feel. “Ah, right there, please.” He squeezes your ass, fingers drilling deeply into your skin. His touch feels better than a massage, you think, almost loosening up all your muscle tension.

“So naughty,” Yangyang whispers, strongly. He sounds masculine without being so aggressive. It is very sexy of him. You try to show him, too, that he is hot, by reacting more enthusiastically. Unlike him, you say it silently and hope he knows. He replies, slapping your butt again, and smirks when you moan. “Wanna play hooky? You still, fuck –“ His breath drops, voice getting lower, huskier. He propels his d!ck shallowly, at the same pace your mouth widens in an ‘O’ shape. “- remember your manners.”

“Mmm hmm,” you agree. You roll your hips side to side, slowly stretching as if coming out of child’s position in yoga. It similarly feels satisfactory, like an injection of morphine. “We really need to get up. I have class; you – shit –“ His thrust pushes you forward, muting your counterarguments. “- you have class soon.”

Yangyang combs your baby hairs onto your opposite shoulder, gently nibbling around your thyroid, and you whine, knowing that you have an easily swayed mindset right now. “It doesn’t sound like you want to get up yet.” He guides your hips like a figure eight motion. His hand comes around front, between your thighs, holding on in a way that allows him to stimulate your clit with his index and thumb. Every movement gets more intense: the speed, the pressure, even the direction of his fingers, as he elongates all the sensations. It feels like he gets bigger too, lunging more alert with his thrusts. “You need a good wake up call, huh?”

You nod, eagerly, biting your lip. “Mmhmm, my morning ritual is, is really long, fuck.”

Yangyang smirks, motivated even more by the double entendre. And the way his tip rasps against your walls, oh god. You ball the sheets into your fists, putting a protective layer between your nails and palm because he gradually becomes erratic. He comes down to your ear, using his lips to bite at it while whispering, “Wanna turn off the alarm?”

“Hmm?” You open your eyes. “Oh, right.” It doesn’t feel like it has been nine minutes. So, after you pick your phone up again, you turn it over to look at the alarm settings, but it is replaced by the call acceptance slider. You blink a couple times and try getting a clearer look – which is difficult, considering that your head keeps bouncing as he grinds harder and harder, and harder. Then, the call restarts. “Shit.”

Yangyang stops moving to glimpse at what’s wrong. His chest brushes against your back and you can feel his erect n!pples graze your spine. You turn the screen at him, contemplating whether to answer it. Thank God, though, that Ten isn’t asking to FaceTime. You honestly don’t know how you would recover from him seeing Yangyang lay naked on you, especially after that comment at the Halloween party about feeling ‘too comfortable’ with him like this.

“I’m gonna answer it.”

“What?”

“I have to answer it,” you argue. “It’s Ten. He’s going to suspect something if I don’t.” The call ends again, and the notification center shows six missed calls. You turn over your phone again. “Shit, he’s been phoning all morning. I have to answer it.”

You partially expect Yangyang to get up. Instead, he comes down, brushing your hair over your shoulder and pushes you into the blanket. You stretch your arms away from him to redial Ten’s number, although your hands (and thighs) start shakily with his moves. The line rings four times before Ten answers, and you sigh, half-disappointed, half-orgasmically.

“Um, hello?” Ten answers sarcastically, on speaker. “Are you ready? ETA 20.” You hear rustling on the other end that sounds similar to Yangyang ruffling your bedsheets. He is trying to get at your t!ts and you let him, propping up into a true doggystyle. Ten doesn’t appear to discern anything, so you keep the phone on mute – which is necessary because you buck your hips at Yangyang, getting his tip angled on your g-spot. He outlines your n!pples, fingers squeezing over your areola. You almost moan again, but Ten reminds you about his presence: “I’m getting in my car right now.”

“Hmm?” Why?

The silence is deafening, all excess noise stopping, until it is just your heavy breaths and small wet noises. You widen your eyes, thinking that Ten discovered your current … entanglement, so you grab Yangyang’s hand, to suppress anymore sounds. It makes you lose balance temporarily, but expectedly he catches you, by the waist. He waist a few seconds, then drops his wrist to your clit, lightly sliding up and down without thrusting his d!ck. You let him continue, panting with your lower abdomen quivering. He has to stop though, because his exhibitionist tendencies might expose you two. You take his hand off your clitoral hood and kiss his inner wrist before sucking his fingers clean. He shudders his hips. You bite your lip. He smiles. Then, he takes his hand back, planting it into the mattress for extra support so that you can actually answer this call, that the two of you keep forgetting about.

“It’s my treat, remember?” Ten tries to jog your memory, nearly shouting. You can hear him breaking through your bubble. It is just that you are a bit distracted at the moment to really recall any memories. You cannot be entirely held accountable for Yangyang’s big d!ck.

Yangyang starts sucking on your neck again, pushing his pelvis slowly into your ass harder, to give you a better reminder: that you are currently being a good girl for him, to make up for being so naughty this morning (even though he also seemed pretty close to ditching class earlier).

“For breakfast yesterday, after the party,” Ten outwardly tells you. Right, it’s Monday, and you often grab coffee with Ten on the way to campus because 8AMs are hell – you have to absorb new information when you can barely see through all the crap in your eyes, and he can barely comprehend his notes from the night before without the morning bean juice. There is some shuffling on his end again, similar to shaking his wrist free of a sweater to get a better look at his watch. It isn’t enough to hide the moan trapped in your throat. So, you try biting your fist as Yangyang swirls his hips, grazing the ends of your nerves. You roll your eyes to the back of your head and hit mute, in order to moan. “Unless you want to walk? I don’t think you’ll make it though. It’s, like, almost 7:20.”

“What?” your voice cracks. You are still muted though, so you un-mute and repeat the exclamation, whining a little when Yangyang tries to get you to orgasm faster, also having heard the time. Hopefully Ten does not notice anything. You think that you were quiet enough to push it off as a complaint.

“I’ll be outside your apartment in 20.”

Yangyang pulls your chin to make you look at him, staring at you to ask what is going on. You mouth a quick explanation: Ten. Ride. Coffee. 20 minutes. He is so close, warm breath enveloping your skin. You take the distance, initiating yet another kiss, essentially in front of your best friend, although the latter cannot hear or see either of you. Yangyang holds onto your chin, possibly afraid of being swept away or falling again. But you have enough support for both of you, and you know that if you fell, he would catch you. So, you kiss him again, and again.

“Hello?” Ten calls into the void. “Did you lose signal again? See, I told you not to choose the shitty complex on Main because the connection is so bad there.”

You put a hand above Yangyang’s heart and clear your voice, turning to the speaker. “I’m still here. Just, hold on a second.” You hit mute again, then turn to Yangyang. “Do you want a ride too?” Yangyang contemplates for a second, and you drop your forehead into your elbow, biting your lip because, after all, he is still inside you, inside your clenching and very aroused p.ussy, where you want him to finish. He nudges your shoulder with his nose and confirms that yeah, he needs a ride. You kiss him a few more times, unsure why, just wanting to be close – something about want to say in his presence, enjoying his presence. He swirls his hips. It feels really good to be with him. “Yeah, so Yangyang is in the neighborhood.”

“Wha-“

“A huh,” you whine, more at Yangyang than Ten. “He just texted me. He’ll meet you – us! He’ll meet us at my apartment. I’m going to get ready now, bye!” you say everything in one breath, hanging up as equally abruptly before Ten could insert his two cents. You drop the phone and turn around, kissing Yangyang deeply. As he returns your affection, you enunciate slowly, “Five minutes, then we have to get ready. Ten is getting too suspicious.”

Yangyang finishes a little bit after five minutes, not that you mind. Non-residents have to get buzzed into your building, and Ten doesn’t have a key to your front door. You indulge the moment, laying on your arm bent under a pillow. He looks at you with all the care in the world, no longer that suave fuck buddy from a few moments ago but a young romantic who caresses your inner thigh and talks big game about all the connections you two have in common, or don’t. Your hand dips to the top of his head, combing a small section with your nails to his ends. Yangyang asks you for the time, and you almost don’t give it to him, preferring to spend time with him here than overanalyzing some stupid thesis statement that you wrote at 4AM. You pout, and pull his phone between the two of you, showing him that Ten will arrive in ten minutes – ironic, you think.

Yangyang approaches your face, millimeters from your lips. He waits for you to flutter your eyes closed, anticipating a kiss, then runs into the shower. It takes you a minute to join him, and when he sees you, smirking, like you have some dastardly revenge plan in the works, Yangyang shuts the glass door, isolating himself in the cold shower. He holds on extra tightly so that you cannot get in. You look hot when you are annoyed though – he needs to annoy you more. It is even more fun to mollify you. He pulls you into the shower next to him by grabbing your ass and makes out with you against the wall for a few seconds, until you start stretching at the lavender body wash on the shelf behind him.

This time, Yangyang finishes first, hopping out to sprinkle the roots of his hair with dry shampoo so Ten does not get too suspicious. If he has wet hair, then it would be obvious that he stayed over. He puts the powder back on the shelf and wanders into your room, towel wrapped loosely around his waist – even though it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. There are a few of his clothes in your closet from all the time you stole them, or a couple mini getaways that you two have taken. After he changes into an outfit that he can actually wear in public, he picks out an extra one of his over-sized shirts and drapes it on the towel rack for when you get out. He knows that you really like his clothes, especially the organic band tees. It is another plus that you share the same music taste. Hopefully, none of his friends catch onto the coincidental similarities.

Yangyang likes that you spend a lot of time in his clothes. They always end up smelling like your lotions. It is comforting and reminds him of all the nights ‘studying’ until 3AM. You know, not that he would actually say it out loud (mostly because he also likes to wear his favorite shirts), but you look cuter than him, in his Kendrick Lamar concert tee. And besides, there is a secondary reason as to why he rummaged through your underwear drawer: he wanted to choose your panties for today. It might be a black lingerie set, but how is he supposed to know the difference between a t-shirt bra and a balconette? :^)

Yangyang makes his way into the kitchen, snagging a mini muffin off the island. With the work out he just had, he needs protein but there isn’t enough time to cook anything, not that he actually could; eh, he’ll end up buying something on campus. He tosses two more muffins into his backpack for later – one chocolate for him, one strawberry for you. On Mondays, between classes, he usually catches you in the student experience center, finishing some last-minute assignments. You always end up pushing lunch until after four, ergo he tries to bring you some snacks, whenever he can. Once, his research methods class got cancelled and you didn’t have any pre-lecture materials to work on, so he brought two cups of ramen. You two had a semi-date then. He wonders if it can happen again, today. Ten interrupts the thought though, before it can develop into a real plan, and he sighs. He doesn’t know why, but he keeps thinking about defining this relationship at the worst possible times.

“Yellow?” Yangyang answers, mid-bite. He shifts the phone to his shoulder so that he can check your notification center for any missed calls. You have three. Ten has been going to voicemail all morning, Yangyang deduces, and if he was Ten, he would be damn suspicious at this point.

“Hi, baby,” Ten coos. “I’m outside. Buzz me in, yeah?”

Yangyang reflexively pouts. “I’m not your baby. I’m 20 now.” Still though, he complies, letting Ten into the building, and his friend is upstairs within a minute – not that it is too far. You live on the second floor.

“So,” Ten sings while glancing around the apartment. Yangyang wonders what for – hopefully, not searching for his secret relationship. Ten closes the door, his eyes landing on Yangyang and eying him down suspiciously, in a curious way. “What are you doing in the neighborhood, anyways?”

“I, uh, bought breakfast at Allen’s coffee, down the street,” he lies, “And I didn’t feel like walking back to the frat.” He shrugs too, trying hard to be as nonchalant as possible.

“A huh.” Ten does not seem to accept it, but he lets it slide when you walk into the room, wearing Yangyang’s t-shirt tucked into a pair of black jeans. Yangyang cannot see why Ten would recognize the top because you also happen to like Kendrick Lamar – one of your favorite songs is King Kunta, even though you cannot sing along to save your life. Yangyang finds it endearing that you enjoy rap music, even though you cannot match the flow or pitch.

His gaze is still endearing when you walk into the kitchen, beelining for the last mini muffin. Yangyang catches how intensely he was staring at you, after you blink at him (and Ten).

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” they mutter, looking away.

“Okay,” you drawl suspiciously, swallowing half your breakfast. You fold the rest of it into the front pocket of your backpack and pick up your textbook. Yangyang meets your gaze but you immediately flicker to Ten. “Can we grab something at Starbucks really quick?”

Ten stares at Yangyang. You just got coffee for yourself, even though you were coming here? Yangyang waves a hand, unsure how to respond. This whole secret relationship has gone on longer than he thought it would. It was supposed to be a one-night stand kind of thing when he first kissed you, the night that Ten introduced you two back in March after Renjun’s birthday party, and not even a one-night stand! He just expected you to make out with him, not give him a blowjob in Kun’s bathroom then let him take you back to his room at the frat.

“What?” You look between them. Yangyang shakes his head, nothing. You stare him down and give in, then turn back to Ten. “I haven’t eaten anything. Please?”

“Alright, fine,” Ten cedes. He holds his hands up in surrender, his keys waving like a white flag. As you all file out the door, Yangyang jokingly asks if he can drive. Ten deadpans at him, protective over the car, and smacks him on the back of his head. “Let’s go.”

Yangyang barely notices when they pull into the drive-thru on 1st, too busy scrolling through Instagram while you and Ten talk about an EDM festival coming this weekend. He only picks up his head when you lean over the gear shift, blocking the GPS from his view (in the middle seat) – he was monitoring the distance to make sure that you get to class on time.

“Can we get two breakfast sandwiches, an iced coffee with 2% milk, and an iced London fog latte, extra pump of vanilla, with coconut milk?” You turn to ten. “Want anything?”

Ten furrows his eyebrows. Neither of them looks at Yangyang, and he lowers his phone, knowing that he is about to be caught in a lie. He didn’t think that Ten would ask anything because of the time crunch. Evidently, he was wrong, and now he doesn’t know how to unspin the lie.

“Who are you ordering all that food for?” Ten asks.

You look at him skeptically, a what the fuck hanging palpably in the air before you point to the backseat. “For the baby.”

“Not a baby,” Yangyang pipes up, voice cracking. He tugs on the collar of his shirt, smiling embarrassed.

Ten turns on his side, back facing the window as he stares between the two of you, ultimately settling on Yangyang. “I thought that you said you already got breakfast at Allen’s.” Ten rotates to you. “That’s why he’s in the neighborhood, right?”

A huh, yeah. Yangyang almost tells another lie but the monitor clerk asks if they want anything else, and they are holding up the line with an empty lane in front. Saved by the bell intercom. Ten orders an extra americano, then you all persist through the awkward silence until reaching the front window. You pay with the app as Ten passes out the round of drinks like a bartender. Yangyang pokes his paper straw through the lid. You can’t baby him if he does everything himself first.

“Uh, are you good?”

Yangyang looks up. You have your iced latte between your legs, holding it at the top of your thighs on your crotch like an ice pack.

“Yeah, what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Ten enunciates, putting this drink in the cup holder, “people only put ice on their private parts when they’re sore.” He widens his eyes, posture stiffening and he points at you. “Did you have that guy over? The best y-“

“You don’t –“ You hold up a hand, physically interrupting him. Yangyang should have known that Ten would never seriously suspect him as your fuck buddy; he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or offended. “- have to repeat it. I just feel sore.”

Yangyang smirks at that, but he has to hide it when Ten looks at him, pinching his cheeks down like a Tim Burton character. The look in Ten’s eyes is confused again, and he knows that one of two questions is going to come out: if he met that guy that you’re sleeping with, of if he is the guy that you are sleeping with. Fortunately, Yangyang sees the navigation touch screen, and the time is two minutes until eight and you are five minutes off campus. Ten has to drop the conversation and speed to the art building so that at least you get there on time. The extra few minutes he has to spend alone with Ten gives him the idea to cool things off with you for a few days.

That sounds bad, like he is blowing you off, but honestly, you agreed.

Yangyang caught you in front of the communal office space for linguistics GTAs, a few minutes before office hours ended. He snatched you into a supply closet, dragging you by the waist, and covered your mouth to prevent you from screaming bloody murder. You two acknowledged the thin ice that has been melting for a couple weeks now. And he brought up taking a break from seeing each other for a while. At first, you thought that he was breaking up with you – or as close to breaking up as possible, because still, you are not dating. But then, he saw your face and reassured you that he does want to keep seeing you, even in secret; maybe next time, you two should talk about your relationship.

Friends do not need to see each other every day, you know. Or, like, at least, casual friends don’t. Sure, you FaceTime Ten all the time and Yangyang lives with Xiaojun so he sees his best friend daily by default, but you two are not similarly close friends, especially not when other people can perceive how you two interact. No one has to know just that you see Yangyang just as often, in person. And you do it because, well, because you like him – which explains how he ends up back in your bed by Wednesday.

“I’m gonna be late again.”

“No, you won’t.”

Yangyang reaches around your collarbone, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip until he can comfortably hold your jaw. He draws you in for another kiss, his eyes mirroring yours - distracted, enamored, aroused. You cautiously spin around, throwing your arms around his neck to avoid getting swept away, which seems impossible because he holds you securely, at your mandible and the beltloop on your waist. He inhales upon the next embrace, closing his pretty mouth over your philtrum like a slow bite – like several slow bites. You meet him, every time, at the end of each kiss when he shifts onto his toes, getting too tall for your lips, and pull him back on the ground to get more. He moans, after you start roaming your hands under his shirt, running your nails over the crevices in his body like a memorization technique for an early class you don’t have.

You feel hungry, for love, wanting to feel warm. The sun will not rise for another half hour, but he is the warmest thing in the room, even though you are fully dressed, not expecting to be late like two days ago. He copies your moves, unbuckling his hand like a belt, sliding it under your shirt and palming your b.oobs. Then, you squeal, giggling breathily, when he spins you around again and smacks your ass, pushing your thighs into the mattress that you two are standing over.

“Do you trust me?” he whispers in your ear, sucking upward on your external jugular vein.

“No.”

Yangyang stops, deadpanned. He hits your butt again, like a punishment – his favorite kind of punishment, it seems because he repeats it every morning like a bad kind of player, the rich one who goes to bars and unexpectedly falls in love with an attendee, as if it is a coming of age Netflix movie. He repeats it again until you fall on your hands over the bed. You look behind your shoulder at him, jaw dropped. And he takes no time to interpret it, stumbling next to you.

You roll over, led by your hips, so that you can match him, latching onto his face with your hands on his cheeks. “Of course, I trust you, dummy.”

He looks down still, picking at the seams of your jeans. And you detect his teasing tone, easily, because he goes directly to your inner thighs, tracing up along the thread until he reaches your zipper. “Really?”

You roll your eyes, then make him look at you. He has that kicked-puppy expression in the way the outline of his eyes falls below his eyebrows, but the glint and the gummy smile have you knowing otherwise. “Yes.”

Yangyang pops your pants button undone, mischievously pulling his lips into a dramatic pout. “And you’re not lying to me?”

“No,” you emphasize. You brush his hair back, scratching your nails along his scalp, behind his ears. His smile cannot help itself, breaking out in a way that has you completely immersed. It reminds you of that time when you went go karting with Ten and a few others. You were undoubtedly a bad driver, bumping into the track walls, even during the straight lanes. One time, you made a particularly excellent sharp turn, surpassing Johnny to the finish line. Unfortunately, you were completing lap 3 of 5 and him 5 of 5, but Yangyang still congratulated you afterward – in bed. He also lit up, when you two were just laying under the covers, staring at the ceiling because the stars were too far away. You held onto the arm around your waist, laying on his naked shoulder as he told you about wanting to be a race car driver as a kid, then an automotive or aerospace engineer as a teenager, before he settled on psychology. He kept talking, as if crafting this beautiful galaxy. That is when you knew.

“Prove it.”

“What?” You sit up and straddle him. “How do you want me to prove it?”

Yangyang starts begging for affection, slithering his hand down your stomach, into your underwear. He pulls you into his chest, giggling when you topple him into the pillows, clearly not having estimated the force. You like that you never have to beg for his attention. He always, for some reason, notices you, and it is so hard not to pick up on it. You wonder just how no one has learned about you two yet. It’s not like you are being subtle. Although, the smallest acts he gives you can be found under subtle in the dictionary. Like now, he tucks your hair behind your ear, gaze flickering from his hand across your cheek to your eyes. You kiss him again – only a brief peck, because he inserts two fingers inside you, making you gasp sharply enough to break.

“Can I confess something?” you ask, suddenly braved by an idea to prove that you do trust him.

Yangyang stops fucking you, his fingers flexed still. He scans your face for an actual lie but knows that he will never find one, mostly because he already knows the next few words out of your mouth; he has felt the same way for months. And maybe, at this point, he owes you some explanation, for keeping his own confession unspoken. He wants to give it to you first, before your own declaration. It is something that he thinks he should do, like a societal norm for the guy to confess – that is what all the romantic movies say, right? Well, there is Princess Leia and Han with their whole I love you and I know dynamic, and while that was really cool in the scene, Yangyang has a fixed scenario in his head.

“I love you,” he blurts, quickly, sitting up.

“You love me?”

His heart drops. You are not supposed to surprised. He was nearly 100% confident that you had fallen in love with him, too, but this might confirm that so much was in his head. You keep staring at him, jaw slacked and hands on his shoulders. Only when he starts pulling away do you react, catching his hand.

“I really like you,” Yangyang reiterates, self-pouring salt into his bleeding heart. He hesitates for a second, unsure if he should even be vulnerable again, but what does he have to lose? “I –“ He swallows, still looking into your eyes – “I love you.”

Then you kiss him.

And he lets you kiss him.

He lets you kiss him because of the way you cradle his face, like he is made of glass, like he is the most precious crystal that you have to protect. Your lips get softer when he wets them with his tongue, after feeling confidence in your embrace. You kiss him in a way that takes away the word the love, wrapping him in a security blanket to return the warmth.

“I love you,” you whisper slowly, barely audibly enough for him to hear it over the smack of your tongue as you lower to him. You pause, mouth slightly ajar on his. “Too.”

Yangyang peers at your closed eyes, almost willing you to open them so he can tell you, again, that he loves you, so he can see your reaction when he really tells you. He grabs your face and sits up again. You roll your head to the side, like you anticipate his kiss. He gives it you, simultaneously returning his hand into your pants.

“What time is it?”

“What?”

“What time is it right now?” Yangyang asks you with a sense of urgency.

You turn around, fumbling around for your phone, which is now somewhere mixed in your sheets. The two of you had spent a good ten minutes remaking the bed after the night you had, and currently, blankets are strewn across, folded into messy piles. With the thought distracting you, Yangyang slips two fingers past your underwear again, twisting the crotch area with his thumb for easier access. You pause, sighing heavily, hand bunching up the linen as he scissors you.

“I asked you a question,” he reminds you, slightly stuttering at the end, hesitant to add a term of endearment. Even with the confessions you both just gave, it does not define your relationship and he doesn’t know how to broach it just yet, only wanting to kiss you closely and hear all the love sounds that he feels deprived of.

“It’s 6:21.”

“Good,” Yangyang whispers in your ear as he prepares you to take him. “We have time.”

Yangyang redirects your face to his, tilting your chin up as he leans to the side, almost inhaling your lips. Upon another kiss, he adds his tongue, tired of the light pecks. They don’t express his affection as much as he wants, because small embraces end quicker, causing you to withdraw – which is the furthest desire from his mind, especially considering that he just confessed, multiple times. He curls his tongue, placing only the tip beyond your lips. You check him, trying to catch his tongue but merely snagging his spit. He smirks because you whine again. Was that not enough? Obviously not, he notes after you pull back, breathing on his lips, making him chase you. Your breath sounds rapid and rough, and he wants to alleviate your nerves. Yangyang extends his neck again, craning to meet your lips. He gives you a second to recover, to prepare, panting the faintest ghost kisses across your lower face. Your hand comes above his shaking heart, stopping there as you bite your lip coyly. He wonders if you want to stop. Both of you just acknowledged a lingering more-than-friends adoration.

But then you slide your hand under his chin, making him really look at you.

“I love you,” you repeat.

The repet!tion exceeds his own confession, and he isn’t sure whether to confess again, but you take the initiative for him, rocking side to side like ridin’ d!ck bicycle. Yangyang parts his lips just enough to blow small, uneven breaths. He feels you open his jeans while shifting over one of his thighs, his fingers still trembling inside you. Sex with you always feels so reciprocated. Your nails graze his c.ock erect, your hand tightening at the tip, where you push your thumb on his pre-cum. It gives almost the same sensation as your tongue and the sensation gets more intense. He starts thrusting in tandem, making you clench, around his bicep, for support. When you start flicking the flesh on the underside of his penis (the part that connects the shaft to head), he stops your hand.

Yangyang comes forward, caressing your mouth and massaging your clit. “I’m gonna cum.”

“So cum,” you taunt him, smirking into the kiss.

Your resolve temporarily falters, dripping into a moan that he swallows up wholly. He keeps sinking his fingers at different depths, at a fast and shallow pace, waiting for you to reach the same point. You certainly feel wet enough. He touches that spongey tissue area in your p.ussy that has you seeing stars. You moan his name over and over again, until the two syllables become a tongue twister. He disentangles your tongue, using his own. All those years tying cherry stems in his mouth as a teenager really paid off. He starts making a come-hither gesture, simultaneously flirting with your lips. After your hand ceases, exclusively squeezing his base, right above his balls, Yangyang slows down, slipping his fingers away from your G-spot, up and over your clit, your orgasm weakening.

“Ugh,” you grumble.

“We have time,” Yangyang tells you, “to have sex.” He looks at you through his eyelashes, gradually lowering his head under your shirt, his shirt. After Monday, he wondered if you ever owned any shirts yourself, or if you donated all of them once you ‘discovered’ his closet. “Tell me you want it too.”

“I want you.”

He doesn’t know whether to clown you or flirt with you. The first option would make you laugh, but the second would get him laid. Luckily, you decide for him, shimming out of your jeans and panties, then you slide his pants down to his ankles. He wraps his hand around your throat, drawing you to his lips, and he unintentionally squeezes when you settle on the tip of his c.ock. As you ride him, your walls hug his d!ck nicely, giving it a nice tight feeling that he can’t help but moan at. You straighten your back to gain some height over him and slip your tongue in his mouth. His hands reach out to your ass, guiding your hips forward in waves. He starts breathing heavier and his grip gets stronger.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.”

Yangyang kisses you, pulling your words into his mouth, “So cum.”

“Fuck.”

He chases after your high, under the guise of helping you ride out this orgasm, getting his d!ck to twitch deeply inside you. When his hold gets too firm, you whine, suddenly over stimulated. Your nails dig into his bicep roughly, barely soothed by the t-shirt he still wears. He thrusts asynchronously with you before coming undone and dragging you into his chest. You feel warm and sweaty in this post-sex glow, your hand and head resting on his chest. He traces little hearts on your inner wrist, not wanting to let you go completely.

“You need to stop picking my underwear if you’re just going to destroy them,” you joke, kissing him on the cheek. “I have to double wash these thongs you know.”

“Can we –“ Yangyang swallows a lump in his throat. He feels like he is pulling you impossibly close, even though you are not moving away. “Can we go back to that thing you were saying earlier?”

“Hmm?”

“The,” he pauses, indecisive whether he actually wants to bring everything up right now. He ultimately decides for it. “Part with the ‘I love you’?” He knows that his voice sounds smaller than normal and that his eyes are shifting nervously at yours, but he wants to hear it again, wants the validation.

“Right,” you understand, nodding your head equally slowly. You straddle his lap again, and he immediately balances you by the waist, wanting to keep that impossibly close distance. “I’m – I’ve fallen –“ You swallow, looking away, but he needs you to look at him. Because if you can’t say it to his face, how does he know that you’re not just saying it out of obligation? Thankfully though, you see to be on the same wavelength, returning to his eyes, and his breath hitches, abs shaking in anticipation. You confidently give him the sentiment, “I love you.”

Yangyang tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, watching the way his fingers finish, stroking along our cheekbone. “I know,” he whispers coolly, leaning into your ear. “It’s hard not to love me,” he changes the subject, “I’m the best.” You scoff and push his chest, but he fastens an arm around you as equally fast, smiling too wide. He is a little sorry, for ruining the moment, but his laugh isn’t convincing at all. “I love you too.”

Sex, you think, feels infinitely better once the weight was lifted off your chest, once the spoonful of love was added. And the way Yangyang keeps kissing you, absolutely obsessed with holding your waist, tells you that spoonful is a misnomer, too small. The measurement for an entire ocean might be a better description. Still though, you would never call describe sex as love making, especially not to his face. At that point, you would be faced with an ‘oh, my god; that’s disgusting, man’ – not that you mind entirely, because the teasing smile he uses is so, so important to you, and sex feels just like that – the love part, not the disgusting thing. Although, sometimes he can be quite disgusting, yanno. Ah, he just makes you want to skip class and stay in bed beside him all day.

Except, both of you know how bad of an idea that is, with midterms are right around the corner.

Despite that, he spends the night at your apartment again, staying up until 3AM even though he has abnormal psych at 8 on Thursdays.

“I need a study break.”

You roll the cover of your design textbook towards your spiral notebook and toss the pile onto the floor, kicking the blankets off your feet. Yangyang barely spares you a glance, too absorbed in his case study. It is the last of five, and he only has the results, psychometrics, and summary statement left to write for this one before he is completely done for the week. Similarly, you have an exam on Joseon architecture later today and you are a third of a chapter away from catching up on reading, but honestly, fortresses get annoying to look at, especially when you have to compare militia structures against lower-class housing. So, you infiltrate Yangyang’s personal bubble, sliding an arm over his hips and your head into his lap.

“Does this mean I have you join you?” he teases, already putting away his pens. He pushes all his study materials by his feet, never leaning too far up, to keep your head in place. It gets even more comfortable when he relaxes again, resting across the pillows. You close your eyes, melting, when he massages your scalp, like he immediately knows where every knot or corner of tension are.

“I would really appreciate it, if you joined me.” You sigh. His touch is heavenly, and it makes you tighten your arm over his pelvis.

Eventually, Yangyang goes back to his homework, this time reclining in a way that lets you curl into his side. And you aren’t actually asleep, just mildly daydreaming with your eyes shut, thinking about literally anything (Yangyang) other than structures. When he raises a book midair, in front of his face, you move positions, sprawling across his chest, leg coming between his thighs. You (purposefully) annoyingly stick your head under his cheek, to ensure that you, at least, moderately block some of the passage.

Yangyang giggles. “Am I officially joining you now?” He puts his papers on your nightstand and wraps an arm around your shoulders, luring you to his lips. Your leg slithers above the waistband of his joggers, and he helps you straddle him again, sinking into the mattress to get a good view of the way you look in his oversize hood, in only his oversized hoodie. “You’re clingier.”

“Than what?” you ask innocently, rubbing his shirt fabric along his chest. You start pouting, as a response to his silence. Does he not want to cuddle? You shake your head. No, he does, given the way he pushes up the hoodie and yanks you further up his lap. “We cuddle the same amount.” You lower toward his ear, holding his neck in place, and whisper, “Do you not want to? Because I can leave.”

Before you can even think about getting off, he kisses you, sitting up. “Don’t go.” His hands come under your ass, squeezing as your arms circle around his neck. “It’s just –“ He bites his lip, suppressing a whine, which you can feel clog his throat. “You can’t sit on my lap like this. I’m getting hard.”

“Again?” you taunt. He slaps your butt, rather harshly, leaving a warm tingling sensation that he kneads away. You grind into his touch and kiss up his neck. “We can try the Pomodoro method.” You blow into his ear, shakily, as his hand presses particularly rougher. “I’ll set a timer for 25-minutes.” You look at him with chaste, despite the way you are purposefully making his blood rush. His fingers move to the edge of the hood, lifting it slightly. “Think we can have fun in just 25 minutes?”

“Mmmhmm,” he agrees early, nodding his head forward to kiss you. You don’t let him meet you though, not that you think he really noticed, what with being distracted by your very naked legs. He slowly sits up, all the way, and you feel his d!ck twitch against your thighs.

“Or do you think we won’t be able to finish?”

Yangyang throws you onto the bed and removes his shirt in one fell swoop. “Bet?”

“Missionary?” you ask, almost sticking your tongue out at him. “You’re getting more vanilla.”

Yanygyang gasps, then whacks your butt. “Take that back!”

You prop yourself on your elbows, eying all the naked parts of him up and down, from his low waisted briefs to his well-defined pecs to the rather cross sulk on his lip. “Make me.”

“Don’t have to.” He takes away your smirk, displaying it across his face. You tilt your head to the left, expression slacking blankly, but you catch on, feeling his fingers outline your sides. He slips his thumb between your lips, pushing it slowly until you basically give him a finger job, like a preview to the actual head he wants. “You’re already prepped.”

Your eyes flicker up, purely, as if he is about to ruin you for the first time. It’s his favorite part whenever you blow him – you looking into his eyes, taking every inch of him. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, dragging your lip down until he lets go, your lips smacking together. You bite your lip, suddenly feeling empty, even though neither of you have really done anything yet. “Are you going to fuck me then?” Your voice sounds so harmless, now lacking the bite as you mentally anticipate his d!ck to stretch you open right now. He shakes his head, no. “So what –“

Yangyang spreads your legs a little wider, strictly, darting in the direction of your main bullseye point. His touches remain light and teasing, not getting there yet, responding to all the little mannerisms that make your lower body so rhythmic. He rubs a finger, swirling the ends of his movements to get your hips riding his digits. You whimper breathily, voice cracking at such a high pitch. He sweeps your bottom lip, pressing his tongue softly, making you wish that he would fuck you already. It is insanely evil, for him to give you a preview of the intense foreplay without actually doing it, barely giving you the imagery of it all. You clutch his shoulder, to steady him for a constant kiss and to actually get on his slender fingers. But he never lets you. Instead, he pulls you by your ass, one-handed, forcing you to roll your hips on the silhouette of his d!ck. Fuck, how can you even feel his c.ock? His joggers are so thick. He maintains the stupid, inhumane taunts, kissing the air between you two, caressing everywhere along your hole. A few minutes pass without him changing the routine, so you reverse the positions, throwing him on your mattress and straddling his lap like a stripper. And with almost the same level of experience, or confidence (you hope it’s confidence), you seesaw over his d!ck. He swiftly locks your arms around his neck and his behind your lower back, palming your ass. You look into his eyes for a second, then kiss him roughly, smashing your lips on his.

“You’re. So. Eager. Today,” he says, muddied by elongated spit noises. His eyes are flittered closed as he smiles smugly, accepting your style of manhandling. Your embraces are light and rapid, doing everything in your power to prevent him from straying too far. But his abs get too shaky, too firm, the familiar build up washing over him, so he has to pull away. When he does, you try chasing him and he brushes your hair behind your ear, slowly stroking your jugular vein like ticking baby hairs. “I love you.”

You smile. “I love you too.” You peck his lips, now sitting sticky on his lap. He looks so pretty, eyes glazed and lips slightly parted. You just have to kiss him again.

Yangyang bends your back to the comforter, guiding you by the throat, simultaneously pushing his pants mid-thigh, c.ock bouncing more freely. It slaps your p.ussy, naturally twitching aroused. He is so close that when he pumps himself a few strokes, his knuckles rasp along your clit and you buck your hips for more touches. You feel his wet tip run along your slit, and you just know that his hand locks above his balls, right around his base, ready to push in. But you stop him.

“Let me ride you,” you pant, slowly opening your eyes.

He nods his head enthusiastically, and you pop off his head. You turn around, back facing him as you take off the hoodie, leaning down to graze your n!pples on the blanket.

Yangyang wails. “That’s not fair. I want to see.” He takes off his pants, to be as equally naked.

You redirect his attention back to your p.ussy, using your first two fingers to pinch your clitoral hood and gently tug it up and down, over his d!ck as you back into him. He lets out a loud moan at the sight; it takes everything in him to not thrust, listening to your command ordering him to wait. You brush your hair over your shoulder again and look at him behind your shoulder, sultry. Your mood changes are so sexy. His body moves automatically, hunching over your spine to litter you with kisses, his hand trailing behind his saliva. You take that palm and put it on your t!t as you grind his c.ock between your ass cheeks, sliding it to the most sensitive nerves of your p.ussy. He aids your building orgasm with two fingers, leaning his metacarpal inside of your thigh to rub circles specifically under your nub.

“Oh my god,” you exhale, walls throbbing in a vacuum of emptiness, needy.

You sit up and push him onto the pillows by his chest, then reach behind to grab his c.ock erect. His breath thunders, encouragingly. He waits for you to do something, scanning your bare back for every little love bite and mark. You slowly descend and use your knees to bounce, ass swirling between his thighs. Your hips oscillate from outward jumping to figure eights, to rocking sideways. And his favorite position seems to be when you take all of him, gyrating shallowly, letting only about an inch leave your p.ussy before you slam back down on him. You mimic his slaps, taking your hand off his inner thigh to grip your ass, dragging your nails up, leaving a tingling sensation. He rolls his eyes to the back of his head, recording the moment in his brain forever, then slaps your jiggling flesh several times. This position gets his big c.ock deep within your p.ussy, causing his balls to bump against your labia. Then he starts thrusting with you, pounding his hips up.

“Fuck, Fuck, Yanygang. Mmhm.”

He copies your expletives, adding some bad girl’s and other lewd nicknames, before slamming with some finality. You think that he is about to cum, but he withdraws, making you whine sharply. Yangyang flips you onto your back, immediately attacking your chest. His hands support you like a wired bra and shakes them, pushing the pads of his thumbs into your sternum so that your hardened n!pples remain level with his mouth. He licks one lightly, circling around the areola, then latches on, sucking with his tongue flattened under your skin. You arch your back to him, drawing him close. He repeats the action on the other, but longer, as he pinches and kneads your b.oob.

“Come on my d!ck again, you dirty little girl,” he orders, voice low and hoarse.

“Then stop pulling out,” you whisper, similarly breathless.

“Okay.”

You lean away from him, supported with your hands on his thighs, spinning your hips in circles and side to side. His hands squeeze your waist, jostling you to his chest brutally.

“Don’t do that,” he growls, teeth barring before he kisses you again, croaking the moan in your throat. He drags you close, fingers digging into esophagus so that his tongue and reach inside.

Your grip scratches on his triceps, pink lines haunting his skin. You keep bouncing up and down, until his chokehold drops. His mouth falls open, releasing strings of curses after gasps. He spanks you hard, twice, then grips your ass, jerking it savagely. You change the motion, grinding in tiny, little, miniscule circles. Your thighs shiver, your entire body following. He rotates his d!ck, thrusting asynchronously. And you claw through his hair, tugging the strands rougher and rougher as your abdomen keeps tightening.

“Almost, almost,” you whimper. “I’m so close.”

Yangyang pulls your bottom lip with his teeth. “Me too.”

You begin slowing down, no longer able to bounce up and down, choosing to rock back and forth. Then, everything stops for just a second, your walls compressing his springy c.ock until you break. All of his muscles grate against you, making you feel each ridge and movement. He follows your orgasm, feeling the way you milk every drop out of him, sucking his entire length balls deep. Your whine sounds like a treble, harmonizing with his lower moan. And you two spend another moment in cowgirl position, collecting your breaths, basically fused together.

“I love you,” Yangyang repeats. Ever since yesterday morning, he has been throwing out the sentiment spontaneously whenever he can: during sex, after sex, while cuddling, in the middle of study dates, behind his cup of coffee at the physics café in the afternoon when no one else is nearby. He follows up with another confession, “I want more than 25-minutes.” And it catches you off guard, considering his previous statement and the other, in the midst of sex, or love making, as some people would call it.

“The 25-minutes is just for right now,” you reassure him, gently patting his cheeks. “We have to study. I still have part of a chapter left to read.”

“Then say it back.”

You pull his face to yours, brushing your noses together. “I love you,” you tell him slowly, enunciating every syllable.

“So, spend the night at my place tomorrow,” he requests. His arms come behind your lower back, his eyes pouting like a lamb.

“Of course,” you answer impulsively, immediately going to kiss him after. Then you pull away, stopping him on the shoulders. “Wait. You have roommates. You have six roommates.”

“Four,” he corrects you – Sicheng graduated last year and moved in with Yuta. “We’ll be fine. Dejun is going with Kun to some conference; I don’t remember what. Hendery is staying at an AirBnB before the EDM festival this weekend. Lucas is …” Yangyang bites his cheek, trying to recall his roomates’ schedules. “I think he’s going on a date. I don’t know, but he bought roses and they’re sitting in the fridge. And Renjun … Renjun …” Yangyang swallows. He almost forgot about the tidbit that he learned at the Halloween party last weekend.

“Renjun what?” you ask, pecking him lightly and chastely.

“Won’t be there either.” Yangyang stops you. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

You sense the serious tone and straighten up, clasping your hands around his neck. “What’s up?” you prod slowly.

“Did you really like him?” he questions so softly that you almost do not hear him. “Renjun?” he clarifies after you stay quiet (even though it was just a few seconds).

“Yeah,” you answer quietly, not entirely sure if you even want him to hear you, the ambience settling into something melancholier. “But I love you.”

It seems like he ignores you.

“Why didn’t you get with him?”

“You don’t mean that.”

You shake your head, pulling back, your eyes painfully dry. All the fuzzy spots from your orgasm earlier connect the dots in your head, and you wonder what this is, if he doubts you, doesn’t trust you.

But he agrees, “You’re right. I just … I mean, why are you with me instead?”

“Instead?” you ask. You come back to him – it’s always him, and you hold his face, making him look at you. “I’m not with you instead of Renjun. There’s no compet!tion. I love you,” you enunciate the confession again to really emphasize it.

“But –“

It doesn’t seem to stick. And you sigh with your entire body, slumping away from him. “Does it really bother you that much?” You shift around, biting your lip while his soft c.ock scrambles inside you. He meets your eyes this time, scanning your pupils for more reassurance. “You are kind and smart and hard-working and insanely talented, and … and I love you.” He stays quiet, and you almost throttle him, needing a bit of affection too. “Say it back,” you beg, differently from minutes ago. You drop your forehead on his shoulder. “Please.”

Yangyang seems to understand and reciprocates, “I love you too.”

You pull yourself to face him and beam, mirroring his tender gummy smile. Then, you kiss him again, toppling him into the pillows. He rolls you over, causing you to giggle loudly as he peppers small bites along your cheeks, across your nose, and whispers the same confession on loop.

“I love you,” he ends, kissing you deeply. He comes up for air, inhaling sharply. “So, stay the night with me tomorrow – tonight. At my place.” He brushes your hair away from your face, to get a better look at the sweet glaze in your eyes. You think that you fall in love a little more, especially with all his domestic acts.

“Okay,” you agree.

“Okay,” he repeats. “Okay.” He nods his head, smiling wider, if possible, and kisses you over and over and over again.

Funny thing about Fridays: Yangyang doesn’t have a morning class, doesn’t have class at all actually; meanwhile, you have another art history class, at eight. The damn class is 90-minutes, so it is held three times a week. His lectures, you recall bitterly, go on for 2-3 hours each, granting him the three day weekend that every college student desires, pushing his classes to the first four business days of the week. That means he can stay up all night Thursday to Saturday, gaming for long hours into the night – not that you get to see it often, because when you do stop by the frat house, you spend time with anyone else. And usually, someone is visiting at the same time. You know, you write yourself into Xiaojun and Sicheng’s pool compet!tion, or watch moves with Lucas, but tonight (really morning, considering that it is 1 A.M.), you sit with Yangyang in his wide gaming chair, thumbing at The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (BotW) while he plays Overwatch with Haechan and Jeno. Thankfully, you don’t have any major assignments due later or any in-class presentations, so you can just curl up next to your boyfriend and pull an all-nighter, stealing snacks and drinks from his new mini-fridge so that you can avoid accidentally bumping into one of his roommates. Although, you Uber’ed to his place with a box of friend chicken and side dishes.

After the same gold lynel kills of Link for the third time in a row (the one in the Hebra region, outside the shrine, that has a sword you want), you lazily toss the controller onto his desk. Dying again and again gets frustrating, and you need to relieve the buzz. So, you turn to Yangyang, who looks to be in the middle of a campaign (is that what his levels are called?), and start asking him questions about his video game. Like, you know how sometimes people get so desperately horny that they ask their partner to explain Overwatch to them? Yeah, that is exactly how this feels, as Yangyang’s distracted voice describes his location and next move. And it is no wonder that he is a psych major – he is good at communication.

“What does that character do?” you whisper-ask, while the screen refreshes after he wins a battle.

“That’s an attacker.”

“A huh,” you nod along. You vaguely know what that means, based on the t!tle and all your years of the Club Penguin Card Jitsu game. “And that one?”

Yangyang removes his headset to around his neck and faces you, grinning sideways. “Are we sharing interests right now?” He pushes your legs apart, then straddles you over his thigh. His desk separates you and the game, pressing a fine line between the bones in your spinal cord. He turns the microphone down, muting himself from his friends. It is one thing for the two of you to be alone in the frat house and another for his close friends to physically hear you in his arms. “Or are you just needy for my attention?” Yangyang pulls one hand on your skin, rubbing small soothing circles. “That’s a sign of a relationship, you know.” He leans into your ear, whispering, “Like a date.”

You push him against the chair cushions, scrunching your nose at his laughter. “As if we haven’t done that already,” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes for emphasis.

“What?” he asks. “Go on a date?”

You nod your head. Neither of you really call these types of things dates, but they are. Sometimes you also hang out in public, alone, maybe holding hand or kissing, even though lately it seems like you stay inside and study and have sex all the time. Actually, there is a rave going on this weekend with one of your favorite DJs – one shared equally by the two of you. You have yet to invite Yangyang, but now seems like a good time.

“You don’t really care about my games,” he pouts, “Do you?”

“I’m sorry,” you agree, pouting with him. “I don’t speak nerd.”

Yangyang gasps, sitting up straighter. “It’s not a nerd thing! It’s a game of strategy!”

You shake your head, still not understanding. “I don’t speak virgin either.”

He slaps your ass. “We both know that isn’t true.”

“Am I supposed to be the virgin, in this scenario?”

“Are you becoming a born-again virgin?”

You shrug. “What would you do if I did?” You completely straddle his lap, scooting up his thighs until his d!ck sits at attention between your abdomens, and you whisper in his ear, “Would you leave me?” You bite his ear, softly licking the external side then blowing on it. “Would you ruin me? Take it away?”

“Virginity is a social construct,” he reminds you, growling. He slips his hands into your underwear. “I’ll ruin you right now.”

Except, another round on his game loads, and you find yourself leaning onto his shoulder opposite the microphone so that he can play, despite the insane wetness soaking your underwear right now. Then, two more games go by and you want his attention. He asked you to stay the night with him, and this doesn’t necessarily feel like that. So, you get off his lap, slithering down his legs onto the ground, onto your knees.

First, you untie his pants and spring his d!ck out. It’s not difficult, because (1) he has pyjama bottoms on, and (2) he manspreads like a motherfucker, giving you easy access. Then, the blow job starts. You lick your palm a couple times and angle his tip in your mouth, starting soft. His legs tense momentarily, making you consider stopping, but a hand appears, pushing you halfway down his length.

“You look so pretty down there, angel.”

He obviously did not actually look at you; you know because he usually makes eye contact when he is close to cumming, enjoying the way your eyes glass over. And because his keyboard continues clicking.

You continue on that way – keeping one hand squeezed halfway down his d!ck; hollowing your cheeks, adding extra suction all over his tip; flattening your tongue on the underside and rolling it like sushi at the very top. Despite his d!ck being fully erect in your mouth, his attention is less than enthusiastic, fingers working diligently on those numbers. It gives you an idea. You start bobbing your head faster, in tune with his typing, egged on by his compet!tiveness. And when his voice goes up an octave, your grip gets tighter, only slacking when you drop back down halfway. His groan echoes in your ear, sounding like he lost (whatever that means), so you pull off. He breathes a little bit harder after the smacking sound falls from your lips, preceding all the fluttering little kisses down his shaft. You hold his d!ck up and lick one stripe up between his balls, and he shouts at his friends:

“Alright! I’m done for the night. Play tomorrow. Bye!”

Yangyang pulls you to your feet, standing with you. He scans your eyes, pulling you closer and closer, debating whether to kiss you or not; he never really kisses you after you suck his d!ck, unless he eats you out too.

“Bed now,” he orders you in whispers, patting your butt a little too hard. You fall onto his queen-sized mattress stomach down, bouncing with his fluffy duvet. He kneels next to you, lifting his sweater off your thighs and spanking you again, three times. Each smack precedes a loud, high-pitched gasp. “You’re so needy.”

“Fuck,” you mutter at a particularly hard hit, his hand slipping to the wet p.ussy lips that need some friction. “Is that a bad thing?”

A door shuts loudly down the hall, making you two straighten up in attention. You prop yourself forward on your elbows, staring at the door. Yangyang watches your reaction, his ears alert and back facing the door. You hear Hendery walking up the stairs, something jangling with him, like keys or plates. A second pair of feet march with him, making you look at Yangyang. He shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head; he thought everyone was going to be gone this weekend, which does not apparently start on Fridays for his roommates.

“You’re going to need to be quiet,” he whispers. This is nothing new. The two of you constantly fuck, like rabbits, regardless if anyone can hear you, but Hendery is two rooms down and Yangyang is sliding two fingers knuckle deep until hitting the urethral sponge. His curling has your thighs tensing to the point of shaking. As he settles between your legs (not letting up on the pressure), he taps your sternum twice, telling you to keep still and quiet.

But you moan. It just comes out, not something that you can control. Especially when he nips all around your clit, lip biting at your skin and sucking small bruises. He keeps going like this, nodding his head for more vibrations everywhere except the most sensitive spot. Your breath gets more labored, breaking loudly.

“You need to be quieter,” he reminds you.

“Mmm, I can’t. You’ll have to move slower.”

Yangyang speeds up his fingers. “Not a chance.” He swipes his thumb across your clit once, then twice, then harder, giving it a little pinch. “Even if you cum, I’m still going.”

You whine, disagreeing. “Mmm mmm, you can’t say things like that. Fuck –“ He starts crawling over your body, peppering light touches along your stomach, around your b.oobs, above your collarbone. “- I want to cum.” You mewl, again frustrated, because he pulls his fingers out. He gestures you to shush, putting them in your mouth. With his hands occupied around your face and throat, his d!ck jostles, sliding between your p.ussy lips without actually entering. “Please,” you beg, “I want to cum so bad.”

“Ugh,” Yangyang moans in your ear, this time guiding himself inside your warm and aching hole. “I know,” he tells you. “I can feel it.” He rotates onto his side, propping up one of his legs to get into an easier position where he can pound you better. You grab one of the pillows, briefly arresting it with your nails acting like handcuffs before settling it under your oblique. The new angle puts Yangyang right back at your G-spot, his tip abusing the sponge harshly. “You’re milking my c.ock, huh? You’re – You want me so bad, huh?”

“Mm hmm, yeah,” you agree. His gaze fixates on the way your ass claps against his pelvis. He doesn’t even have to lead you anymore; you start backing up on him, motivated the rougher he tugs your hair. “Please, please,” you chant in whispers. He spreads your cheeks, obsessed with the disappearing act you pull, needing to see it more.

“Fuck,” he groans. He cups your b.oob off the mattress, supporting the other one with his arm, and pinches at your n!pple, swirling it around between his thumb and index finger. “Come on, pretty girl. You need to cum?” You nod your head fervently, face warming intensely. “So, cum on my c.ock. You can do it; come on.” He drops your chest for your neck, pushing your head into the blankets so he can kiss you again, incoherently vibrating broken praises on your lips.

“Yangyang, Yangyang, I’m – I’m – Harder, please. I’m so – Oh, fuck.”

He moans your name seconds after, spilling into your pulsating core, and relaxes, chest falling into an equilibria rhythm with yours. His c.ock softens, finishing its workout, so you swing your leg away from him and spin around, placing a hand on his chest. You stare at him for a little bit, like watching the sun set. He peaks an eye open, then closes it quickly, teasing you because he knows that you saw it.

“You’re going to get cross-eyed staring at me,” Yangyang jokes.

“Then let me get cross-eyed,” you counter, slithering an arm under his head like a neck cushion.

“That’s disgusting.”

You scoff, pulling on the ends of his hair. “You’re disgusting.”

He smacks your butt lightly. It is definitely his favorite punishment. “And you can call it a kink, fyi.” He opens his eyes in time to see you pout, and in return, he pecks your lips, pulling away just as fast.

You look over his shoulder at the time: 2 A.M. and bury your face in his chest. “We need to stop sleeping so late. My body can’t handle this.”

“My body can handle yours.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, even though he would not be ready to go again, at least for twenty minutes.

You chew on your lip a little bit, then repeat a post-sex tradition (well, it has essentially become a tradition this week). “Can I ask you a question?”

Yangyang kisses your shoulder, wrapping a leg around yours to keep you locked nearby. “Of course, anything.”

“Do you want to go to the rave with me, this weekend?”

“Like,” he processes, still hidden the crevice of your neck, “as in a date?” He lays across your arm, and you notice the glint in his eye. “Are you asking me out? I was supposed to do that!”

“Oh?” you return the tease. “We can just not go then, and I’ll wait for you to ask me out.” You start getting up, but he drags you back down, tugging specifically on your hand. He kisses you as a confirmation that yes, he wants to go; he wants nothing more than to go on a real date with you.

#wayv #nct yangyang #wayv yangyang #yangyang #yangyang smut #wayv smut #nct smut #yangyang fluff #wayv fluff #nct fluff #yangyang imagines #yangyang x reader #liu yangyang #wayv imagines #nct imagines #wayv scenarios #nct scenarios #/mine

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rafecameron · 4 years ago

Text

sunkissed

summary: Sarah’s pen pal of several years finally comes to visit - she can’t help but fall for her friends older brother

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 8K

a/n: I don’t really go here anymore but i wrote this a couple months ago and a few people said they wanted to read it so here to go (gif is mine)

Dear y/n,

You will never believe what’s been happening! I’ve fallen in love (for real this time)! And he’s a pogue! His names John B, he works on my dads boat, I know cliché. I thought I was happy with my life, thought I had everything planned out and everything was perfect but I never realised how much I was missing! The pogues are all so carefree - considering. They just do whatever they want and it’s always fun, I haven’t stopped laughing since I’ve been hanging out with them.

My brother isn’t very happy about it, but he’s not very happy about anything really. He called me a traitor for hanging out with pogues, he’s so annoying! I can’t wait for him to go off to college or something and just get out of my hair!

The second bit of good news? My dad said you can come stay for the summer! As in the whole summer! Now you just have to get permission and we can finally see each other again! I’m so excited let me know as soon as you can come!

Love, Sarah.

It was written in her neat hand on her usual pale pink paper. You loved the end of the month when you’d receive a letter from your best friend. Best friend. It always felt strange and people never understood how you could have a best friend you had met on vacation when you were seven. You hadn’t seen each other since but you had promised to keep in touch with letters and you had much to both your parents surprise. You loved when Sarah would complain about her older brother and younger sister, she was always so dramatic when she spoke about them. You also couldn’t believe that not only had she fallen in love (again - this was the twelfth time since you were seven) but she had gotten permission for you to stay the rest of the summer and had waiting to tell you via letter! You grabbed your phone off of your night stand and quickly hit the call button under her name, waited a few rings, then her cheerful voice answered.

“Y/N! Did you get my letter?” She asks quickly.

“Yes. I can’t believe you haven’t already told me about your new boyfriend! Or that I’m allowed to come and stay!” You complain.

“You know I like saving my good news for the letters. It feels more...romantic.” She giggles down the phone, “so, can you stay?”

“I haven’t asked yet. I can’t see why they’d say no.” You roll over onto your back, smiling widely up at the ceiling, “so tell me about John B!”

And she did. She told you everything they had done together so far, how amazing he was, how charming and funny and hot. He didn’t much sound like yours or Sarah’s type at all but you couldn’t help the grin on your face hearing how happy she sounded when she spoke about him. You stayed on the phone for well over an hour listening to her gush over her new man before finally hanging up.

You were excited at the prospect of finally seeing Sarah again but also a little hesitant. She sounded so wrapped up and in love with John B that you were sure you would be the third wheel for the whole summer. Or the sixth wheel, after hearing about her new friends too. But the excitement of seeing Sarah won over your worries so you ran downstairs to ask permission to go. After lots of begging and lots of sucking up, your parents said yes.

—-

You had never been anywhere on your own before so you were nervous the minute your parents left you at the dock to board the ferry. You were sure something would go wrong. You’d lose your ticket. You’d get on the wrong boat. But amazingly everything went smoothly and before you knew it you were getting off the other side. The midday sun was blaring down already, it was much hotter out here on the island than it was where you lived well into the mainland.

You walk along the dock, trying your best to see over the top of people’s heads to try and spot your friend. You were slowly starting to worry she wasn’t here until you saw the blonde leaning against a post, you hurried over probably bashing people with your bags but you didn’t care.

Sarah spotted you as you ran closer, her face suddenly breaking out into a wide grin as you dropped your bags and pulled her into a bone crushing hug.

“Oh my god you’re finally here!” She cheers squeezing you back just was hard.

“It’s been a long time coming.” You smile giving her one last squeeze before letting go, “So, what's on the agenda for this summer?”

“We’re going to have the best summer ever!” Sarah links her arm through yours after you pick your bag up, “We’re going to go shopping, have late nights watching movies, parties on the beach! It’s going to be amazing.”

You agree and throw your bag into the back of Sarah’s car before climbing into the passenger seat. The whole drive to her house you let her gush about John B and how amazing he was, you refrained from pointing out she’d already told you over the phone. You loved seeing her face light up when she spoke about him and only wished you could feel that way about someone one day.

You knew Sarah’s house would be big however it was a lot bigger than you ever imagined it would be. But as you drew closer it wasn’t the house that was drawing your attention but the boy in front of it. He was wearing a grey T-shirt, tight against his biceps as he leant over a bike rubbing at it with a cloth. You couldn’t stop your eyes from watching his arms as they flexed cleaning the bike.

“Okay, disgusting. Can you stop eye fucking my brother?” Sarah laughs and pushes your shoulder, “I cannot deal with that all summer.”

“That’s Rafe?” You ask looking back over to him, “Why didn’t you tell me your brother was hot?”

“Ew, he’s my brother he’s not hot! He’s also an asshole.” She rolls her eyes before finally climbing out of the car. You follow suit, pulling your bag from the back and following her towards the house. Your eyes land back on Rafe as you walk past but the boy doesn’t look up from his task so you turn away and follow Sarah into the house.

——

“Fucking hell JJ you’re gonna set everything on fire!” Pope shouts, the boy jumps up and runs after the blonde who was currently running around the yard with a burning log pretending to be a caveman.

“Is he always like that?” You ask looking at the curly haired girl beside you.

“Oh, yeah,” she nods, “He’s an idiot.”

You laugh and watch Pope grab the log from JJ, telling his friend off before he threw the log back into the bonfire. JJ followed Pope back to the circle, sitting down in a sulk as he took an angry gulp from his beer.

“Never any fun.” He mutters to himself before breaking out in a grin, “Hey, y/n you haven’t seen my party trick! Let’s take the boat out!”

“JJ it’s pitch black,” Kie shakes her head, “You can barely do it in daylight, you’ll end up falling overboard and drowning.”

JJ let’s out another huff, “Alright, what am I supposed to do for fun then?”

Sarah had brought you to John B’s chateau to meet her friends. John B was not at all how you imagined him but you liked him well enough. Kie was lovely as was Pope and you looked forward to hanging out with them more. JJ was definitely a little chaotic and not someone you would usually hang out with but he seemed to have good intentions so you were sure he’d grow on you.

The night was full of drinking and laughing, the boys running around like idiots as you and the girls fell about laughing at their antics. This was the kind of thing you thought about when you thought of perfect summer nights. Drinks with friends, evenings full of laughter with music and a bonfire.

——

You were thankful that you didn’t drink too much the night before when you woke up with a clear head. You poked your head into Sarah’s room to find her still fast asleep, arm dangling off the bed as her face pressed into the pillows.

You made our way around the kitchen, opening up every cupboard in search of a glass. You let out a huff of frustration when you open your fourth cupboard to find plates and still no glasses.

“Need a hand?” A voice asks, causing you to jump back in surprise.

You spin around to see Sarah’s brother leaning against the doorframe, apparently having watched you search the kitchen for the last few minutes.

“Glasses?” You ask hopefully.

He shoots you a small smirk and walks into the kitchen towards the cupboard furthest from you and hands you a glass from it.

“Coffee?” He asks, already placing two mugs down onto the counter.

“Sure, thanks.” You take the glass and fill it with water from the fridge, gladly accepting the steaming mug of coffee the boy offers.

“I’m Rafe.” He finally introduces himself.

“I know, Sarah’s annoying older brother,” you let out a laugh, “Y/N.” You offer him your name with a slight smile.

“So you’re the pen pal, isn’t that a bit redundant now?” He leans against the counter, legs crossed slightly as he looks over at you.

You copy his stance opposite him and shrug, “Somewhat, but there’s something a lot more personal about receiving a letter, more intimate. I think it’s a shame people don’t do it anymore.”

“But a text is much quicker.” Rafe shrugs, seeming to miss the point completely, but it’s what you expected.

“Yes, it is quicker.” You agree.

A silence falls over the kitchen, a silence that’s surprisingly not awkward. You study Rafe as he looks down at his mug, hand moving in circles as his eyes watch the brown liquid move around. You weren’t sure what you expected Rafe to be like, but you were sure this wasn’t it. From what Sarah had described you expected someone loud, boisterous and irritating. Someone who would laugh at you not being able to find the glasses and walk away leaving you confused. Not someone who would pass you the glass you were desperately searching for and then offer you a coffee on top.

He looks up. Striking eyes meet yours and he smiles for the first time but it doesn’t reach the blue of his eyes, it stops somewhere just past the corners of his lips.

“How do you like the outer banks then?” He asks.

“Love it.” You beam, you laugh at the look Rafe shoots you, “No really! It’s so nice to be away from the city. This is what summer is supposed to be like, beaches and bonfires, not walking around busy streets.”

Rafe ponders your answer for a moment, “I guess. It’s just hard, when you’re used to it it gets kind of boring and repetitive.”

“Well, maybe you should find some new hobbies then.” You smile.

Rafe let’s out a chuckle, it’s dry and seems forced, “Yeah, maybe I should. Well, if you get bored hanging around the Pogues, come find me and I’ll show you how a summer should be spent.” He shoots you a wink and exits the kitchen. That, you think, is more the Rafe you were expecting.

——

“You’re not going to go, are you?” Sarah inquiries for the second time.

You’d just finished telling her about your morning meeting with Rafe and she’s been adamant you shouldn’t hang out with him. Not that you were planning to in the first place, but now she had explicitly said you shouldn’t, you kind of wanted to.

You refrain from rolling your eyes, “No Sarah. I came here to hang out with you, not your brother.”

Sarah smiles, happy with your answer she links her arm through yours like she had the day before. You both had beach bags slung over your shoulders as you made your way towards the golden sea of sand.

The rest of the group were already on the beach. John B and Kie were digging around in the cool box looking for beers while JJ was building a sandcastle around Popes legs.

You liked the beach and you liked Sarah’s friends but you found yourself growing bored quickly. It was too hot to lay around in the sun and you had never been a fan of the ocean so refused the offers of learning to surf. Even if you liked the water you didn’t imagine you’d be any good, your balance definitely comparable to bambi on ice.

Sarah was attached to her boyfriend at the hip, you didn’t blame her, she’s young and in love but it wasn’t very fun for you. You wished you’d brought a book or your headphones with you. It wasn’t until Kie mentioned a party that you perked up a bit, a party, that was definitely more your scene.

“Where?” You ask leaning up on your elbows on the towel.

“On the beach of course,” Kie holds a beer out towards you, “Pre drinks?” She grins waving it around.

You take the can from her and crack it open, trying to plan out your outfit in your head. Usually you’d wear a dress and heels to a party, but you didn’t expect that would be the best attire for a beach party. It was probably more of an occasion for shorts, a tank top and sandals.

——

The beach was crowded by the time you got there, a lot busier than you expected it to be. You were more than shocked when you noticed Rafe and what you guessed were his friends while you were getting your second drink. You hadn’t expected him to attend a party on this side of the beach, seeing his apparent hatred for the pogues.

He catches your eyes and sends you a nod before turning back to his conversation and you can’t help the small smile that appears on your face. Rafe didn’t seem like the dick Sarah had made him out to be and you were glad to have another friendly face around.

You were in your own world, dancing around with your fifth beer in hand when an arm wrapped around your shoulders. You spin, glad the arm was tight around you or you would have toppled over. Rafe is stood smiling down at you, you could tell from his eyes he’d drank a fair bit but he didn’t seem too intoxicated.

“Still having fun pogueing around?” He asks.

You should shrug his arm away from you but you find you enjoy the weight of it against you and lean into him more.

“I guess,” your fingers play with the red cup in your hand, “I mean, there’s nothing else to do, is there?” You half tease.

Rafe can sense your playful tone and matches it with a smirk, “I’ve already said I’ll show you a good time.”

“Sarah would kill me if I went running off with you,” you admit, leaving the part about wanting to anyway unsaid.

“Well, when she’s not looking you know where to find me.” He smirks, letting his fingers linger on your shoulder for a second longer before he sauntered away back into the throng of drunk party goers.

——

It was a week later when you finally took Rafe up on his offer, after you had promised Sarah the only reason you didn’t want to go out on the boat was because it had made you sea sick the day before. She’d pouted but eventually agreed on going without you. Rafe offered for you to join him and his friends at the golf course. Golf was definitely not your thing, but when you options were that or spend the day in the house alone and hope you don’t bump into ward, you chose the former.

“I thought you were going to show me how a summer should be spent.” You complain as you lean against one of Rafes golf club watching him and his friends line up for the seventeenth hole.

“This is how a summer should be spent.” Rafe comments, raising his beer into the air, “Beer, sun and golf.” He nods.

“Well, it’s not my ideal summer.” You sigh watching Toppers ball fly across the green.

“So what’s your ideal summer?” Kelce asks as he lines up his ball.

Kelce was definitely your favourite out of Rafes two close friends. You liked Topper well enough, but there was something about him you weren’t too sure about. Kelce on the other hand was a lot more pleasant than you expected him to be, he was friends with Rafe after all. But he’d made you feel welcome the minute you got to the golf course, even trying to teach you how to play.

“Adventure.” You state with a nod of your head, “I’m in a new place, I want to look around. Find new cool things, not wander around a field.”

Kelce chuckles as he hits his ball off the tee, “I wouldn’t call it a field.”

“You want adventure?” Rafe questions pointing at you with his club as he walks up to take his shot, “I’ll give you adventure.”

They finish the last two holes and then Rafe is dragging you out of the club house and towards his truck. He drives back to his house, swapping his truck for the bike you had seen him cleaning last week.

“You want me to get on that?” You ask with a raised brow.

“You want adventure but you won’t get on a bike?” Rafe laughs holding his helmet out to you.

“Adventure won’t kill me.” You roll your eyes but sigh and accept the helmet.

The bike was not as bad as you expected it to be. Rafe drove somewhat sensibly, you expect it had everything to do with you being on the back. It wasn’t until you were out on a dirt path that he started pulling the bike up to ride solely on the rear wheel and you found yourself clinging onto the boy for dear life.

“Rafe!” You scream, fists clutching at the front of his blue polo shirt, “Stop!” You squeeze your eyes shut as the boy just laughs.

Finally he stops the bike and you jump off, ripping the helmet off your head and throwing it at the laughing boy, “Are you actively trying to kill me?”

“Yeah, I bring all the girls out here to kill and bury them.” He chuckles and puts the stand down on the bike before climbing off.

“Right, I don’t doubt you do.” You turn around, arms crossed over your chest, “Where are we?”

You walk towards what seems to be the edge of a cliff, looking down you can see the waves crashing angrily against the rocks below.

“This is the best spot to come when you want to be alone,” Rafe appears behind you, you can tell what he really means is this is where he comes when he wants to be alone, “No one comes up here and there’s no phone signal.”

“The perfect place to hide a body.” You smirk over at him.

“Exactly, or the perfect place to learn to ride.” He grabs your hips and turns you back towards the bike, pushing you towards it.

“Wait, what?” You ask looking back at him over your shoulder, “Here? What if I fall off the edge?”

“Don’t drive towards the edge.” Rafe laughs as though it’s obvious and you suppose it is, “C’mon, sit.” Rafe pats the seat of the bike.

You debate with yourself whether you should get on the bike or not, you’d never even learnt to drive a car let alone a bike, so you knew you probably shouldn’t. But for some reason although you barely knew Rafe you trusted him. So you climb onto the bike, gladly accepting the helmet he offered to you again and pushing it down onto your head.

Rafe shows you the ignition and the controls you need to move it and to brake. You start off slow, conscious about falling off and breaking your neck. Rafe followed behind you like a parent teaching their child to ride a tricycle for the first time. Slowly you began to build speed, but nowhere near as fast as Rafe was driving and you definitely were not going to be pulling any wheelies. Rafe stands to the side, arms crossed over his chest as he watches you ride up and down the small path.

You stopped the bike next to the boy, pulling the helmet from your head with a large grin plastered across your face.

“That was amazing!” You comment, letting Rafe put the stand down so you can climb off, “I’m not saying I’d want to ride one all over the place, but up here where no one else is was really fun.”

“And you didn’t fall off the edge!” Rafe comments in a congratulatory tone causing you to laugh.

You sit down beside Rafe on one of the large rocks near the cliff edge, you hadn’t realised how long you had been out with the boy but the sky was beginning to turn orange as the sun set for the night. The view was breathtaking and you hadn’t noticed it while you had been riding.

“I can see why you like it up here.” You murmur, eyes fixed on the point where the sky meets the ocean, the orange of the sky reflecting off the sparkling waters.

“My father taught me how to ride up here.” Rafe admits, Sarah had told you all about Rafe and Wards relationship and in all honesty you felt sorry for him. You couldn’t imagine how hard it must be to strive to meet perfection for someone who doesn’t give you a second glance. Although it doesn’t excuse the things Rafe does, it at least gives you some understanding as to why he does them. He’s crying out for the attention he craves and for some unknown reason you want to give it to him.

You don’t reply. Instead you reach out and rest your hand on top of his letting the silence speak for you.

----

“Are you coming with me today or are you hanging out with Rafe again?” Sarah teases you, you were worried that she was going to be upset with you but the girl seemed more amused than anything.

She was already home when you got back past dark with Rafe and she had grilled you for the details of your day. She’d informed you that Rafe wouldn’t be like that with just anyone and that he must have a crush on you. But you’d just laughed her off, telling her he’s not the person she thinks he is. You knew siblings usually had some kind of rivalry, and seeing how much nicer Ward was to Sarah than Rafe you weren’t really surprised he acted hostile towards his younger sister.

“I don’t know, I don’t know if Rafe even wants to hang out with me again.” You shrug following your friend into the living room.

“Well you’re more than welcome to come with me, but Rafe’s usually out by now and he’s still lingering around.” She nods towards the back doors where you can see Rafe through the glass.

He’s sitting on one of the garden chairs, leg bouncing as he taps against the arm of the chair. Sarah gives you a little push towards the doors and you soon find yourself walking through them, face lighting up as Rafe notices you and smiles.

“Hey.” He stops tapping and sits up straighter.

“Hey.” You reply, you stand in front of him semi awkwardly, what if he hadn’t been waiting for you and had in fact just been enjoying sitting in his backyard in the morning sun.

“Do you have plans today?” He asks, you think he sounds a bit hopeful.

“I’m not sure...Sarah said I can go with her, but she seems more adamant I should hang out with you.” You both turn to see Sarah through the window trying her best to look like she’s not watching the interaction, “Maybe she doesn’t like me.”

Rafe chuckles, “Or maybe she just wants me to hang out with someone other than my bone head friends,” He chews on his lower lip, “I know somewhere we can go, if you want.”

That somewhere turned out to be a shaded woody area with a stream running through it. A stark contrast to the beach you had been to multiple times in the last week you’d been here. But you liked it, the shade was a welcome break from the sun and the sound of the water gently flowing over the rocks was calming.

Rafe stops walking beside a large tree, pointing with a smile towards a badly carved ‘R’ in the bark, “I think I was about eight when I did that.”

You smile and trace the letter with your finger. You weren’t sure if it was a conscious decision by Rafe to bring you to places that meant something to him, but you were glad that he was. It meant more than just taking you to random touristy destinations and it felt like you could peek a little more inside of him with each trip.

Rafe tugs on a piece of rope hanging from one of the branches, it was frayed at the end and looked like it had seen much better days. But after Rafe had tugged on it a couple of times and deemed it safe he offered it over to you. You laugh and accept the rope, giving it a tug of your own as you look up to where it was tied around the tree.

“It’s safe, tyed it myself.” Rafe comments as he watches you.

“When you were eight?” You shake your head when Rafe nods, “If I fall in you better run.”

You prepare yourself for a wet landing but miraculously the rope doesn’t break and you make it to the other side of the river in one piece and completely dry. You throw the rope back over to Rafe and he soon joins you on the other side.

“What if we come back and the rope’s snapped?” You ask watching the rope slowly swinging back and forth over the water.

Rafe watches too for a moment before tugging your arm to follow him, “You get wet.” he states.

You let Rafe guide you through the trees, the river never far from your left side as you make your way deeper into the woods. You find yourself grabbing onto Rafe’s arm as you climb over roots and fallen branches, sure no one ever came down here.

“Is this your second favourite place to hide bodies?” You ask with a laugh as you duck under a low branch.

Rafe hums, “No bodies here,” He replies, “Actually, I haven’t been here in years. I kind of forgot about this place until I was thinking about places to take you.”

“You were thinking about places to take me.” You ask, a small fluttering feeling creeping into your stomach.

“I promised you adventures, didn’t I?” He looks back at you with a smile.

You nod quickly, “You did,” You agree, “I look forward to more, then.”

Rafe led you the rest of the way in comfortable silence, both of you enjoying the calming sounds of nature instead of forcing a conversation about something meaningless. You stop beside Rafe when the river pools out into a small lake beside a cliff, water cascading down the side of the rocks.

“Wow,” you gaze across the water, “How have you found the nicest places?” You step in front of him, walking along the edge of the water towards the waterfall.

Rafe follows behind, “I spent a lot of time exploring when I was younger,” He tells you, “I could come here and be anything I wanted.”

“It’s amazing.” You state, “I wish we had places like this back home. We just have busy streets and over crowded parks.”

“C’mon.” Rafe hurries in front of you, grabbing your hand on his way past.

He helps you climb over the rocks towards the waterfall, both of you getting completely soaked as you pass under it, but even in the shade the weather was hot and sticky so you really didn’t mind. Behind the falling water you find a small cave, you weren’t sure if it was big enough to even be called a cave, but you had no other name for it. The stone inside the cave was dry and you let Rafe pull you to sit inside it.

“I used to come here when I was in trouble. No one could ever find me.” He laughs.

“I guess no one would think to look for you behind a waterfall.” You grin, “I wouldn’t. How did you even find this place back here?”

“Like I said, I used to do a lot of exploring.” Rafe shrugs as he moves forward and sticks his hand into the water. “I like listening to the water.”

“You can close your eyes and imagine you’re anywhere,” You comment, letting your eyes fall shut but you soon open them again, “I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be, though.”

Rafe looks at you over his shoulder, a smile gracing his lips and you couldn’t help but think this one was real. Unlike that first day, this one reached his eyes setting his whole face alight with pure happiness. You like it. You like his smile and you like being the one to put it there.

You spend most of the morning sitting behind the waterfall talking about anything you can think of. Most of it mundane small talk but some of it deeper. You tell Rafe about a few things from your childhood, seeing as he’d shared a couple of his own. Then as it drew closer to lunch time he took you to a diner on the edge of town which mostly sold various breakfast foods.

You knew you had asked Rafe for adventure, but you decided you would be happy doing absolutely nothing as long as he was in your company. You liked his company and you hoped he liked yours enough to spend most of the summer with you.

----

“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?” You ask letting Rafe lead you towards a large stone building.

“Do you not have surprises where you come from?” Rafe teases, “I’ll explain, if I tell you, it kind of ruins the whole thing.”

You roll your eyes and slap his arm playfully. Rafe had told you to be ready by midday and to wear something nice. So you’d picked out a red summer dress and actually bothered with your hair and make up for the first time during your trip. As you got closer to the building you saw a sign which read ‘Wine Tasting.” and quickly tugged on Rafe’s arm.

“We aren’t even old enough to drink!” You hissed but he just shushed you and entered the building.

The waiter didn’t seem to bat an eyelid at the fact that you were both clearly only late teens and not over 21. He greeted Rafe by name and led you both over to a table on the balcony. The table was already set up with multiple glasses of various wines and you raised your brows at Rafe.

“How do they just let you in?” You ask in a hushed voice.

Rafe simply shrugs, “Perks of being a Cameron.” He grins and hands a glass over to you, “I’ve tried them all before.”

“I can’t try all of these, I’ll be drunk before one!” You laugh but take the glass from him.

“You’re not actually supposed to drink them.” He comments.

“You think I’m not going to drink them?” You raise one brow at him and bring the wine to your lips. It was a rose and it tasted much sweeter than you usually liked but still you swallowed it, “If there’s wine, I’m drinking it.”

Rafe laughs, shaking his head in amusement as you finished the rest of the glass. You both tried every wine on the table, Rafe getting rid of the wine like you’re supposed to, you downing each glass and getting steadily more drunk as the afternoon drew closer.

“So, which was your favourite?” He asks.

You purse your lips, mulling over the question in your seriously tipsy state, “The dry white.” You finally decide.

Rafe nods at your choice and excuses himself from the table. While he’s gone you look out over the balcony, the view mostly fields and trees but it was picturesque in the summer sun. You hum contentedly to yourself before snapping your head back round at the sound of a bang on the table. Rafe stood with four bottles of wine in his hands, motioning for you to follow him.

“You brought four?” You laugh following him down the stairs and back towards the car.

“Yeah, now we get to drink the best one and get blissfully wine drunk.” You can’t help but think that is the best idea yet.

You soon find yourself sitting in Rafe’s backyard as Rafe had put it ‘blissfully wine drunk’. Two bottles had already been finished, Rafe currently working on the third while you had had more than enough for now. You were in that state of drunk where you still knew what was going on, but you were much more confident and comfortable. Your vision was slightly blurred around the edges and if you stood up you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk in a straight line. You knew you shouldn’t be this drunk this early in the day, but Rafe was making you laugh and you felt like your body was full of butterflies so you didn’t care what anyone else would think.

Soon after it had started to get dark and Rafe had attempted to make you grilled cheese - you’d ended up eating it burnt and you hadn’t tasted anything quite so bad in a while, but you had both laughed about it - you found yourself stumbling down towards the beach. Hand tight in Rafe’s half because you wanted to hold his hand, half to stop you face planting the floor.

Rafe had brought the last bottle of wine with you, he stood it in the sand between you as you flopped down into one of the dunes. Dusk was settling across the sky casting a dull but calming hue across the beach.

“I didn’t plan on getting this drunk,” Rafe comments as he pulls the bottle from the sand and takes a sip, “But I’m not complaining.” He offers the bottle to you and you take it, gulping down the liquid before placing it back in its hole.

“You’re a bad influence. I’ve never been drunk at lunch time before!” You point an accusatory finger in his direction.

“Well you’ve been missing out all this time.” Rafe swings his arm around your shoulders and you let him pull you against his side.

His touch is warm in the cool evening sea breeze and you lean into him. Rafe has the power to make you feel completely comfortable around him all the time. You’d never met someone like him before and were quite sure you never would again. He was a one off. One of a kind. Special. So when he kissed against your hair line you smiled and held him closer. He was too good to let go off, physically and mentally.

You tilt your head up, eyes lingering on his willing him to read your mind. And he does. He leans down, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. It was short. A peck more than anything. It was nothing and everything all at the same time. You laid your head back against his shoulder, missing the smile spreading across Rafe’s lips.

----

You sit outside with Sarah, nursing your hangover with a strong coffee as the girl laughs at your self induced misfortune. You weren’t going to tell her about the kiss you and Rafe had shared the night before, honestly you weren’t sure yourself if it meant something to him or if it was just a result of too much to drink. But she’d asked, and you’d admitted it, and she hadn’t been annoyed like you'd expected. Actually, she seemed pretty excited, gushing over the details and letting out a little squeal after you finished.

“It would be so good if you dated my brother! He needs someone good in his life, and you actually look so cute together!” She taps her feet excitedly against the ground, “So what’s on the lovebirds agenda today?”

You open your mouth to tell her that actually you have no idea what you’re doing today. But you don’t get a chance to speak. Instead the table shakes violently as something heavy lands on it and then a second later both of you are covered in water.

Sarah screams and in your hungover state it takes you a second to process what had happened. You look up, glaring at a smiling Rafe hanging out of his bedroom window, it was more than a little unfair that the boy didn’t look the slightest bit affected by yesterday's drinking session.

“I’d move if I were you.” He calls down before another balloon full of water lands on the floor beside you.

Both you and Sarah bolt up from the table and out onto the grass, both dripping wet with angry scowls.

“Rafe you asshole!” Sarah calls up as she wrings her hair out, “I’m not staying here for this, it’s you he’s trying to get!” She points a finger at you before quickly running into the house.

You’re glad when you look up and Rafe is no longer at his window, but that relief quickly dies when he appears at the back door, a balloon already on its way over to you. You scream as it hits your arm, the cold water covering your body.

“This isn't funny Rafe!” You shout, running as another rubber bomb comes towards you, “I’m hungover and now look at me!”

But Rafe doesn’t care. You spend the next ten minutes running away from his assault, finally being able to defend yourself when you grab the hose and point it at him. By the time Rafe is out of balloons and he’s managed to wrestle the hose out of your hands both of you are dripping wet. Rafe’s hair is plastered against his forehead and covering his eyes, yours is hanging down like rats tails. You wring out your shirt, glaring still at the boy but it’s more playful now.

“And what exactly brought that on?” You huff letting go of your shirt.

Rafe shrugs, moving towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist, “I like hearing your laugh.” He answers pulling you closer.

He leans down, his lips finding yours in a wet kiss thanks to your fight. This kiss is longer, his lips pressed against yours firmer than the previous night. Now you knew that it wasn’t some drunken act and that Rafe had in fact wanted to kiss you, and this made you smile against his lips. This time, now you were sober, you could appreciate the moment more. Kissing Rafe was like something you had never felt before. It sounds cheesy to say you felt a spark, and you weren’t sure that’s how you would explain it. But you felt light, like the weight of everything was taken off you at least for a moment. And your body felt warm, like your blood had turned to honey and you felt cosy and safe.

You rest your head against his chest when you finally pull away, ignoring how uncomfortable his wet shirt felt against your cheek. And you stood there holding each other, wet in the morning sun for what felt like forever.

----

The next week is full of Rafe surprising you with something new each day. Sometimes it’s small like a day of baking - which you both suck at - and sometimes it’s big like a shopping trip to town where he treats you to new shoes and dinner. It’s also filled with a lot more kissing and a lot more cuddling. One day, when the weather is more miserable than usual summer days, you make a blanket fort in his bedroom and spend the day cuddling, eating marshmallows and watching cheesy movies on netflix. That was one of your favourite days. To block the world out and spend the day wrapped up in Rafe’s arms was how you wanted to spend every day for the rest of your lives. But that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy the other days too. The days when Rafe would plan someone special or take you to a meaningful place from his childhood. You knew that no matter what you were doing, if it was with Rafe, you’d enjoy it.

You sat on the deck of the boat, watching as Rafe dropped the anchor setting the boat in its place. The yacht was impressive, but Rafe could have taken you out on a rubber dingy and you still would have loved every second of it.

“Have you ever been jetskiing?” Rafe asks.

“You know I don’t really like the water, Rafe.” You sigh, standing up as he walks over to you and resting your hands against his chest.

“I know, but I think you’ll enjoy it. It’s like riding the bike but bumpier.” Rafe presses a kiss against your forehead, “Do you want to try it? We can come straight back on the boat if you don’t like it.”

You sigh, looking up at his hopeful eyes and you find you just can’t say no to the boy. So you smile and nod your head once, “But if I call in you have to come save me!”

Rafe promises to follow right behind you and helps you get geared up in a life jacket, which made you feel a little better about the coming experience.

It took a couple of minutes for you to get used to sitting on the jet ski before you even moved anywhere and Rafe sat patiently beside you. He held your hand, brushing his thumb across your skin until you announced you were ready to try.

Rafe was right when he said it was like riding a bike and you were glad he had shown you that first. You didn’t dare go very fast, but you still had fun riding around in slow circles. You soon felt comfortable on your own and Rafe sped off, showing off and throwing himself at waves.

He was soaking wet when he appeared back beside you, a grin on his face as he pulled up next to you.

“Show off.” You comment with a giggle.

“Had to give you a show baby.” He leans over and presses his lips against yours.

——

That evening Rafe bundled you into his truck with a duffle back and an armful of blankets. No matter how many times you asked where you were going he refused to tell you. So I’m the end you shut up and turned to stare out of the window watching the town fly by and turn into fields and trees.

Finally he pulls up in the middle of nowhere, grabbing the things from the back and jumping out of the car. You follow after him, noticing a tent set up in a clearing, a faint orange glow coming from inside of it.

“We’re camping?” You grin hurrying ahead of him to check it out.

Inside the tent was fairy lights strung along the room, some blankets and cushions already laid across the floor. It looked cozy and cute, you turned to him, hugging his side tightly.

“This is so cute! When did you set this up? I was with you all day.” You raise a brow at him before helping him set the extra blankets down.

“I got Topper to help out,” he shrugs before pulling you down into the tent beside him.

“I love it.” You grin and lean over pressing a kiss to his lips.

That night you lay stargazing until your eyes hurt and then you climbed inside the tent and curled up in Rafes arms. You talked, you laughed and you kissed. You slept with Rafe for the first time that night, it was slow and sweet and something you will remember forever.

You had never planned on falling so hard for the boy. Thinking this would be a summer fling to tell your friends about and that was it. But now you knew it was more than that. A lot more. You had never felt for anyone the way you felt for Rafe. When he was around you your world life up and your cheeks always hurt from smiling so much.

You couldn’t imagine not getting to see him and touch him every day but time moved too quickly and the end of summer reared its head.

The last night on the island you spent at the annual carnival. You had gone with Sarah, spending half of the night with her and her friends before disappearing off with Rafe.

You went on the Ferris wheel, ate sweets and hot dogs and got lost in the fun house. By the end of the night you felt sick from all the food and insanely happy.

“I’ll come visit you in a month or two, okay?” Rafe promises as you stand on the docks, tears slipping down your face.

You nod your head, letting him kiss you one last time, “Okay. I’ll call you every day.” You offer a smile, rubbing your wet cheeks before disappearing onto the ferry.

You sat on the deck, waving to Rafe until you could no longer see him through the crowds and you were sure he was gone.

You kept your promise of calling him everyday, chatting endlessly about anything you could think of. You loved talking to Rafe because nothing ever felt forced. He made you laugh and smile and e butterflies never went away when you thought about him.

It was the end of the month and you excitedly ripped into the letter addressed to you, expecting to see Sarah’s hand gushing to you about John B and asking you all sorts about your and Rafe. But it wasn’t Sarah’s neat hand you saw but something a little scruffier.

Y/N

I don’t think I’ve ever written a letter before but I remember you saying how you liked them so I thought I would try.

I wanted to say thank you for giving me the best summer, I don’t remember the last time I felt so alive. Being around you is a feeling I want to keep forever, I can never get enough of talking to you, kissing you and hugging you. You make my world a better place and give me a reason to keep trying to be a better person. Thank you for all that you’ve done for me, you’ve helped me more than you can imagine.

I look forward to seeing you next month, I’m counting down the days until I can hold you again.

P.S. Sarah says hi, and that she knew this would happen all along.

Love, Rafe x

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks x reader #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #my writing

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tundrainafrica · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Lovebug (3/10)

Summary:

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 4 5

Notes: So I was really planning on my posting the next chapter tonight and wahhhh right on time @renrampant posted this beautiful piece of art inspired by lovebug. I hope this chapter satisfies <3. I hope the zekehan kiss which will be coming in a chapter or two does justice to the art too.

Levi was a man of his word and he always had been. The night he created his tinder profile, such a penchant had turned out to be more than just an inconvenient truth.

Something so ideally simple as to create a tinder profile, shouldn’t have taken him more than a few hours. Yet, Levi found himself searching, grappling for the right words to say, finding some way to make himself more attractive than he actually was. It turned out with his own meagre attributes, drawing the right person was an altogether daunting task.

Maybe he was overthinking that night. Overthinking had been enough though to leave him exhausted, retiring for the night even before he even noticed he had forgotten to place the phone by his bedside.

When he came into his senses again, sunlight was streaming through the room, turning even the dimmest corners a little less black and a little more gray. The phone was a warm heavy weight vibrating on his chest.

He had to leave for the office soon.

His sleeping schedule only provided him a generous hour and a half to shower and to commute. Frustration at not being able to complete his bio the night before had him sluggish. It had him unwillingly reaching towards the back of his mind as he showered, as he shaved and pulled his light sweater on.

He considered extirpating that nagging thought. All you have to do is put a bio right? Levi thought to himself as he made his way to the subway station. He memorized the way to work like the back of his hand, all the way until the train platform He took the risk of walking straight ahead, eyes completely glued to the screen in front of him.

How it had taken him so much focus to decide on a bio. How it had taken him so much energy and thought. He didn’t know.

Levi though was a man of his word and thus, he had ended up clicking save after typing only a few simple straightforward words.

'Currently software testing. If interested, please swipe right.’

***

“So Levi, you’re a software tester?”

Levi found himself stifling a surprise snort at that question. The sound had come out as something he managed to disguise as a clearing of his throat. Hopefully it worked.

They had just settled on one of the corner seats of a chain coffee shop, a conservative choice for a first date. That is, if he were planning on impressing her. The date felt more like an obligation than an actual passion project. And obligations always had Levi’s mind running on overdrive, even with things as simple as ice breakers.

He didn’t expect that to have been the first line of conversation. He didn’t even know how to pronounce her name yet. The woman was looking expectantly though, bending a little forward. Whether she had been feigning interest or whether she had been genuinely interested, Levi couldn’t really tell.

Technically he tested software for a living and he didn’t need to really expose himself as the head engineer of the software so he settled for a nod.

“Oh, what kind of software do you test?” The woman in front of him pressed.

Levi snuck a glance at his phone under the table. Lynn. But was it pronounced ‘lint?’ Or was it pronounced ‘line?’

He was overthinking again. But when the woman had pronounced his own name correctly, it seemed almost criminal to have to mispronounce her name. Maybe he could table that question for a while.

Or never go on a date with her again. Levi thought to himself as he looked back up at her with the most casual face he could muster. “I test biology related software,” he answered. He purposely kept it vague. He had to note she was also a love alarm user. She had mentioned that part in her bio. Bringing it up in a conversation though was another issue altogether. If he brought it up, she might ask. If the conversation continued, she might ask more.

Did he want to expose then that he was the one who had designed the actual application?

“Biology sounds very interesting,” she commented. She didn’t seem interested in Biology though.

Not as interested as Hange. That quick comparison came like an uninvited visitor and Levi found himself just slapping the phone on top of the table on impulse. The clack of the phone on the table, the metal on hardwood rattled him enough to drive those thoughts away.

Lynn jumped in surprise. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Levi felt the blood rush to his face. When he was thinking longingly about someone married, and comparing her to Lynn, his date for the day, blushing seemed like an almost welcome sensation. “I heard you use the love alarm,” Levi started. When he was already making a fool of himself, might as well go straight to the point.

“You would like to check if we’re attracted to each other huh?” She asked. “But I don’t think we’d find out by the first date…”

“I said on my profile, I wanted to test a software so that’s why I’m here now actually.” Those words forced themselves out of Levi and they came out as a disturbed flow, as guttural sounds that burned in his throat. In the end, the honest man inside him prevailed.

“Test?” Lynn had been nice enough at least to mirror him and put her phone on the table. “You wanna test the love alarm now?”

Levi nodded as he fixed his eyes on the screen in front of him. He was familiar enough with the banner in the front of the screen to know with just a quick glance. The love alarm was active.

He didn’t have to open the application or pull down the banner to know the result. He was all too familiar with how the application would work even when placed on silent mode. The banner should at least appear, with the words ‘Someone nearby is in love with you.’

If there were at least two people around them then, if somebody else rang it, Levi would have been compelled to check. Both applications were void of hearts though. Levi closed the application and pocketed his phone. “It looks like we aren’t attracted to each other.” He only realized as those words escaped from his lips, how awkward or maybe how rude of a comment it came out as.

Lynn’s eyes were wide for a second before she furrowed her brows, framing those brown eyes. “Of course, we just met. I think attraction is something that can be built over time right?” Lynn answered.

“You’re not wrong,” Levi said. Really, he didn’t even believe he could be someone who could rattle off facts about love. Hange had said it herself, he was a little inexperienced.

He wanted to be right about it though. He wanted to believe attraction could be built over time. By extension, he wanted to hold on to the possibility that attraction could also dissipate into apathy. After all, all those emotions should have been in the same ballpark.

“So what do you think?” Lynn asked. She had said some words before that but maybe Levi had reflected too deeply to have processed anything more than the face of the woman before him.

If he blinked and squinted a little afterward, he could pretend that same wavy brown hair was Hange’s. Hange’s hair though was a little shorter and a little messier and when bright light shone at it from certain angles, it came off as a little red. Hange’s eyes were a little bigger and her face was a little rounder.

Lynn was just too different from Hange to ever be Hange.

When Levi let his vision blur though, let it focus on her features slowly then all at once, he could play pretend. When looking from his peripherals, settling for blurs instead of clear pictures, he could pretend the brown hair was Hange’s, the waves that fell on her shoulders as just another layer.

He didn’t even notice it, even after they had split the bill and when she turned down his half hearted offer to take her home. That was until her last greeting came out as they parted ways along the main street that led up to the train station.

Her last greeting was a long way off from a conventional goodbye but it had done its job to get Levi’s attention.

“By the way Levi, my name isn’t Hange.” She unmatched him on tinder after that.

***

Levi decided to put a small note under his name.

Software Engineer. Currently testing software. If interested please swipe right.

It turned out though, there were people who never read bios. “So, what do you do for a living?” The woman in front of him asked. His case in point.

Hange likes reading. An invasive thought tore through him then and Levi wondered how that could have ever been related to the situation at hand.

When he questioned himself, he found out why he even reflected on it in the first place. Right, since Hange likes reading, she wouldn’t have overlooked my bio if she found me on tinder.

Of course, she wouldn’t have tinder. Levi took a deep breath then, reminding himself for the nth time that he was going to have to settle for people who weren’t married to billionaire business tycoons.

He was going to have to settle for people who weren’t Hange.

But he didn’t have to settle for her either. She was underwhelmed yet underwhelming at the same time and Levi was starting to miss Lynn already as the more desirable option.

He quickly shook his head. You don’t have to see any of these people again. All you have to do is turn the love alarm on and watch it ring. But he was feeling so underwhelmed, so disappointed with the turn out of the date in front of him just minutes into meeting her. He had entertained just the thought of cancelling their food there, the only thing stopping him being the wasted food and the poor waitress who would have to clean the mess. So he decided he could at least stay long enough to at least try.

“So, have you heard of the love alarm Nanaba?” Levi asked. He may have put just a little more emphasis in her name. After all, he didn’t want the Lynn-Hange incident happening again.

“Of course, who hasn’t learned about the love alarm app? Actually I have it with me right now.” Nanaba pulled out her phone and dropped it in front of him.

Ten years of hard and stressful work made Levi immune to even the slightest compliments. “You wanna do some testing?” He asked. “Don’t you want to see if we’re compatible?”

Compatible. That was a complex word and Levi started to doubt the applicability of that application in determining compatibility. It was a love alarm, not a compatibility alarm.

Nanaba grinned. “Sure but I have to tell you, I don’t think it actually works.”

Levi raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. He hoped it seemed genuine though. “Really?” When he momentarily thought back to the numerous support tickets logged just within the past two weeks thought, his expression may have turned just a little genuine. It was a mess of an application after all.

“I’ve been using it for a few months already... And it hasn’t rung, not even once. .”

Maybe nobody likes you. Levi had some ironclad rules about testing, always start with user errors, not with application errors and that had him instinctively blaming her but he had to note, most people had one to two matches, Nanaba didn’t look particularly unlikeable either. Just with the thought of statistics, it should have at least rung once if she kept it on regularly.

Levi quickly switched from his engineering hat to his much more empathetic yet still very shitty customer service persona. “Maybe you just haven’t found the one who could ring it for you?” The words tasted so sweet they almost instantly clabbered into sour milk in his mouth. He felt like he was in some sappy Korean drama.

“Well, it rang with my friend Mike once but we don’t see each other that way…”

“Oh, really? Then why did you say it’s broken?”

“Because it rang with my best friend and that doesn’t count...” Nanaba wanted to say more. It was all over her face and her tone.

Levi was in no mood though to play love counselor. But he wasn’t an asshole enough to cancel the food and ditch a seemingly sad woman either. The food came at the right time when Levi was entertaining the prospect of just leaving.

Nanaba looked very much in the mood to speak, speak about something a little more emotional, a little more serious than hobbies and Levi found himself hesitant to force the conversation elsewhere.

Levi came out of that date with no second date, no results. Nanaba on the other hand came out of that date with new found confidence to confess her feelings to her long time best friend.

By the time they had exited the shop, Levi was already swiping again, grumbling obscenities about how testing wasn’t supposed to be that hard.

***

“Rico Brzenska,” Levi said. There were only too many ways to mispronounce ‘Rico.’ Still, two failed dates had him careful about names already. “So what do you do for a living?” And careful about other things as well.

“I’m a student.”

Levi almost spit his tea out at that. He should have been more careful. He had read her bio, she had mentioned something about a love alarm app and that had him swiping right already. He was sure if he had seen any indication of a minor, he would have swiped left. “Really? What kind of student?” He asked, having gone subtly for his phone and pushing it further under the table.

“A graduate student taking business and commerce.”

Levi only had to take a quick glance at his settings to be sure, there were no chances of him dating a minor, as long as nobody was lying about their age on tinder. Being an honest man though, Levi had a harder time looking through white lies.

Such awareness had him studying her round face, her large blue eyes for a little longer. She could have been a minor. Or he could just be paranoid.

But when dating a minor could actually mean jail time, Levi didn’t want to take any chances. “Do you have any ID on you?”

“ID?” Rico frowned. “Why would you need an ID?”

“You said in your bio you wanted to test the love alarm right?”

Rico nodded. “Yes, I just wanna make sure before I start dating someone, we already have the initial attraction. I don’t wanna waste my time with people who aren’t attracted to me or I’m not attracted to, if you get what I mean?”

In response, Levi hummed in understanding. He did get what she meant. The last thing he wanted to do though was inadvertently ring the love alarm of someone a good many years younger than him and risk jail time. He probably wouldn’t ring it anyway.

But just in case. Levi put his phone out on the table, leaving one hand outstretched as if to wait for an ID.

No ID. No Love Alarm. He was sure that was the sign he was giving.

"Wait you don't think I'm off age do you? You think I'm lying on my profile?"

"No, I don't think you are," Levi said. Maybe his expression betrayed his words.

Rico eventually let go of an ID, a school ID from a familiar university logo Levi was sure he had seen a few times. And her face then had been one of pure irritation and maybe a hint of fury.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "There? Legal enough for you?"

Still a student, still too young to be engaging in anything with an older man, at least by Levi's standards. Still, he found himself almost obligated to just test the alarm in front of her.

Rico didn't look happy at all to be heavily scrutinized, or doubted. When she activated her application, Levi saw it as a cue to activate his own.

All you have to do is press the button. Levi told himself. He knew it wouldn't ring. He felt no attraction to her but paranoia had his brain going in all sorts of directions at once. Maybe the blood that rushed through his cheeks then was love. Maybe his hands shaking then were nervousness and excitement at meeting one's destined partner.

Also Rico wore glasses. For some reason, that had him thinking back to someone else with glasses, he wondered for a second if her eyes were much larger without those on. And he wondered if it was similar for Hange.

How such a long train of thought could have occupied him in such a short frame of time, interrupted by a quick sleight of hand, Levi didn't know.

But it had ended so abruptly, almost violently with the familiar cacophony of two love alarms ringing at once.

For a second, Levi sat frozen on the table as his mind went ahead, racing over theories and potential testing methods to deduce the root behind the outcome.

Do I have a glasses kink? That had been Levi's first thought. He looked down at his own phone to see the one heart and the bright message on top.

One person nearby is in love with you.

His second thought had been a little more objective. It's a bug. He told himself. I'll just have to do further testing.

Rico’s eyes were wide in shock. For a few seconds or so, she struggled to move and he couldn’t blame her. After all, the ringing of multiple love alarms in such a silent place like a cafe on a weekday morning was a scene that definitely had the potential to catch some people’s attention.

Levi couldn’t be too sure. He didn’t want to survey his surroundings either so he narrowed his view to just his own love alarm and back at Rico. The latter went for her phone.

From his own angle, Levi couldn’t see her interface but he was familiar with the way she had swiped it, to know she had turned it off. The two love alarms continued to ring in the silence. Even with the tension and awkwardness so thick that made it difficult to slog through, his brain was still moving.

He was blessed with at least enough deduction skills to quickly figure it out for himself.

He was in love with someone else in the room. But who? He surveyed his surroundings, keeping his view closed to only one person at a time. That gave him enough time to brush away the rest of the stares that surfaced from having made such a scene with the harsh ring of the love alarm.

Only after scanning for a second longer did his spatial awareness catch up to him. The other ringing was coming from behind. Levi turned behind him, quickly enough to catch the mop of chestnut brown hair. Fortunately, he had been slow and careful enough to pull away at the last second, missing her forehead by a hair’s breadth.

“Watch where you’re fucking going!” That had been Levi’s first instinct. After all, he was still seeing red, just imagining their heads slamming into each other in the middle of a very silent cafe.

The brunette in front of him, put one finger to her masked mouth, pointing at one of the old fashioned signs just above her seat.

In silence, there is eloquence. It read.

Hange was a very eloquent person. Levi had read enough messages from her and stalked enough of her works to know that much. Any other day, maybe any other minute, he would have been happy to listen, learn a thing or two from the master of diplomacy.

But Hange had virtually come out of nowhere. In the middle of a date.

Giving her a onceover though, noting her masked face. The only two things that made her recognizable then was her mop of brown hair tied in a ponytail and her masked mouth. Still, that had been more than enough for Levi to have seen through it.

She had settled on the seat behind him. The way she looked back at him and the way she had seemed a little too relaxed with a half finished cup of coffee just in front of her, Levi was sure she had been there for a while.

How much did she hear? Levi couldn’t ask just yet. The alarms were still ringing and as soon as Levi turned it off on his end, it stopped. Yet people continued to stare. More importantly, Rico was still staring from behind him.

“Do you two know each other?” She asked.

The answer didn’t come as quickly for Levi as he would have wanted it too. They knew each other, they’ve met at least twice. They’ve eaten out together once. But technically, did it count as ‘knew?’ Did Hange feel the same way?”

“We’re colleagues, working on the same project,” Hange answered for him.

Levi almost instantly realized he liked that answer. Colleagues. It was definitely more intimate than ‘knew each other.’ While at the same time, it held more respect in one’s skills and talent than the word ‘friends.’ And it implied in its own little way that Hange cared about the project just as much as he did.

It had been difficult to muster a straight face then. Still, he pushed forward, nodding when he struggled to stifle the motions of his mouth and the blood that rushed to his face then.

“But the… the love alarm… it…” Rico continued to speak. She shifted her eyes quickly between both Levi and Hange. “And you…” Her eyes fixed on Hange then.

Levi followed her eyes instinctively. Did Rico recognize Hange? He couldn’t confirm it for himself. Soon after that, Rico didn’t say anything in response. Instead she blinked back surprise. She started to clean out her things and place them into her bag.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Levi wanted to pull her back. For a split second, he had reached out his hand, grasping his hand before pulling quickly back. He didn’t mind losing the chance at a second date. Just the thought of putting someone in such a tight and uncomfortable position had his stomach turning. He couldn’t for the life of him tell what she was thinking but he at least felt the tension.

Rico didn't have the most eloquent response either. “Sorry about this… I guess on my end it just feels wrong meddling in somebody else’s relationship… I don’t wanna be the one who’d stop people from getting together.”

Levi was quick to understand though. His thoughts flew back to Nanaba just a date ago and the long one sided counseling session which consisted of Nanaba’s long drawn monologues and Levi’s own grunts of understanding. The date which eventually ended with Nanaba finally figuring out for herself the best course of action.

You know, you’re right, Both of our love alarms rang. And that’s the whole point of this app right? If they both ring, it’s a sign, we should act on it.

And that was the whole point of the love alarm. How many times had he reviewed marketing material, love story commercials which ended with that same message?

Levi opened his mouth ready to speak up. By then, Rico was already out the door, any evidence of her presence just a second ago disappearing within seconds of her leaving. The chimes by the store entrance gradually slowed to a weak dance, the people who watched her leave eventually fell back to whatever they were doing beforehand, and Levi’s own protests had deadened into a light whisper.

It’s a bug. Besides, she’s married. The words had settled in his tongue like a familiar friend and he was sure if given the chance, he would have managed to say it loud and clear.

Levi looked back in his phone to see Rico had unmatched him, just a little too quickly.

“I think we should get that bug fixed soon,” Hange whispered. She sounded like she was stifling a laugh.

"For someone who's worried about the bug, you looked like you had a swell time ringing our alarms just a while ago," Levi said bitterly.

"Zeke's on a business trip and I'm bored and lonely."

“Well, don't take it out on me.” Levi took out his wallet and dropped the cash by the side of his drink, counting enough to pay for Rico’s drink too. He didn’t think too much about the receipt or the change.

The murmurs around him were more than enough to have him hurrying out of the cafe. Did they recognize Hange?

He thought it an appropriate time to satisfy his curiosity when they were both a good distance from the shop. “Do you think people recognize you as Zeke Jaeger’s partner?”

Hange put one finger to her mask. “I saw you outside the shop and when I thought of ringing your love alarm, I did what I could to prepare." Her eyes were still smiling though and Levi was sure there was a laugh behind that mask. "Besides, even though most people recognize Zeke, I don't think they'd notice me. I don’t join the interviews or events as much as he does,” Hange said.

Levi noticed though that Hange was the type to just get lost in her surroundings. Ort hat was at least what Levi had picked up on her the first few times they have gone together. She quickly relaxed after that short and quick question and answer, and in the way that she navigated through the crowds a little too clumsily yet a little too playfully, Levi found evidence backing up his mini theory.

Even if anybody did recognize her, she probably wouldn’t have noticed. And that little realization had made it much harder for Levi to stomach what just happened in the cafe. They needed to get the bug fixed fast. “Let’s go back to the office, maybe do some more testing.”

“Isn’t that why we’re here now?” Hange asked, pointing towards the general direction of their building. “I visited your office this morning because I didn't have much to doand I thought I could be helpful. You weren’t there so I asked around and one of the people from the support team told me you were out. She said probably in your favorite tea shop.”

“You met Petra?” Levi asked. “Redhead? Short?” He soon added, noting her confused expression.

Hange snapped her fingers. “Yes, that’s her name.”

“Yeah, she knows my favorite tea shop. Gets me my favorite mix of tea leaves every year for Christmas,” Levi said, more to fill the air with at least some conversation on the way back.

It took Levi a while to notice Hange had peeked at his face even as he averted his gaze, looking elsewhere.

She spoke up. “Say… Have you ever tried testing your love alarm on her?”

***

Petra was one of the newer employees, a little shy but particularly mature for her age. She was notably competent and had a particularly better handle of her emotions than most of the other colleagues. Her most important asset had been her level headedness even under the pressure of scrutiny. Petra was the type of person to know when she was attracted to someone and she was the type of person to admit it for the sake of a smoother testing process.

Thus, she was one of Levi's favorite volunteers when testing the love alarm.

And Levi was sure, to some degree she could have liked him. If he were to consider her words as truth, and the hearts at the bottom of the screen as some indication.

When they were testing every release on fifty employees over a one week period, putting results side by side with checklists and biometrics tests, they were as thorough as it could be. It was always the case that when it was the two of them testing with each other, Levi’s love alarm always rang, Petra’s didn’t. Every single time, Petra would tag that instance as ‘QA passed.’

It could have been a placebo effect or it could have also been just an admittance to get the testing process done just a little faster but Petra never seemed like the type, breezing through the awkward scenes that came with testing a love application like they were part of a job. If it ever bothered her, she never showed it.

Levi’s alarm never rang in any of the tests he had ever taken anyway. When he double checked though, lining up the results side by side with checklists of what to look out for when one was in love, he found that it never had been a big deal. He had never been attracted to anyone in particular anyway.

“So, I’m the only one your love alarm rang with huh?” Hange asked.

Except maybe Hange.“Yeah, when doing QA work, I’ve had to test with the other employees and it never rang with any of them,” Levi admitted.

“How does QA work?”

“We test with employees, users… All on a volunteer basis if I may clarify.” Levi added that last part for just a touch of professionalism. “We have acceptable ranges for biometrics, checklists and we have a certain number of results which need to fit there to consider a release viable.”

“Why don’t we test using the QA procedure?”

“Because the QA process is a logistical nightmare. We plan a venue. We plan a schedule and we have to get a certain number of people to show up.”

“No, I meant… What if we try it, just the two of us. We answer the checklists, we take each other's biometrics and see if that falls in the exact range for ‘love'?” Hange suggested and her excitable tone only made it seem like she was suggesting something almost revolutionary.

Levi sighed. “I’d rather we use QA testing as a last resort.”

Hange’s face fell. “Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“Because…” Levi would have liked to leave it at that. As he looked at Hange who had leaned on the wall, crossing her arms and staring back at him expectantly, he remembered, it was a professional relationship. If the partner of their very important investor demanded answers, she would get answers so he settled for something seemingly acceptable yet very pathetic in the grand scheme of things. “We’re going to have to answer standardized psychology quizzes and take some physical tests.”

“And I’m sure you’d have a few samples lying around. Let’s see what information we can get,” Hange said.

There were other reasons Levi had been hesitant to suggest such an exam in the first place. It had been difficult to grasp for the exact reasons until they arrived in the conference room Levi had reserved.

The room was a vacuum that had the special power of just drowning out voices, footsteps from just outside the hallway. The tables were empty, the white board put away towards the side of the room. It was clean, empty, void of any presence or even trace of it. It made Levi just a little more painfully aware of his heartbeat, his moist palms and his wild uncoordinated breathing.

He might just fail the physical exam. More specifically, he might just fail if he took it then, at the exact moment.

Grasping for some win, or at the least some comfort in that situation, he had half the mind to run through the ‘Am I in love?’ checklist or at least what he remembered from it. If he were a little honest, there might have been some things he would have checked.

But it didn’t mean he would fail it right?

“What do you think?” Hange pressed. She had settled for one of the chairs in the room.

Levi had answers, but he couldn’t share it just yet. Inviting her to take that meant that he was entertaining the prospect that they might just be in love with her---a cursed prospect.

“Or do you have any other ideas?” Hange asked. She cocked her head to one side in thought.

“If you give me a little more time to come up with something…” Levi said.

“Petra told me you have a week or two before they release the next fix. You’ve done most of the coding work. You just need to fix this bug right?” Hange was very talkative. It turned out Petra had been just a little talkative too with the right prodding by Hange. “Why don’t you wanna just test it now?” Hange's face darkened then to something almost threatening.

And maybe Levi was a little intimidated. He quickly turned away, unable to control whatever expression would force itself out of him then.

“Levi?” Her voice was grating. The echoing in the room didn’t do much to help alleviate it. “Come on, please? I want this investment as much as you do.”

If the partner of their very important investor demanded answers, she would get answers.

But it didn’t have to be the correct answers. “Fine,” Levi said. “You know, maybe the way we test this application… the way we test for love might actually be flawed so maybe some feedback from a researcher like you could be useful.”

Hange grinned from ear to ear, the ominous face of a while ago just a memory Levi could probably forget. “So where do we start?”

***

Testing for the biological numbers was quick with the right tools.

Heart rate. Hormone levels. Stress Levels. Pain Sensitivity. They had all the right test kits on hand with a document detailing the acceptable range.

All reasonable levels, albeit a little too far from the midpoint that Levi held on to the possibility that maybe they could log it all in as some coincidence. The checklists were just a little more difficult and maybe Levi was just thinking a little too far off that he had started to have a mini identity crisis.

I think about my partner a few times a day.

Partner: Referring to the person one tests the application with. Levi was aware of that much having tested the application long before. Yet for some reason, he had to loudly remind himself of that, even within the confines of his mind.

He entertained hypotheses. If Hange were his partner, that would be polyamory and that could even start the scandal of the year, or even the decade. He didn’t want to be part of that.

So he ticked ‘never’ because technically Hange wasn’t his partner anyway.

I want to be with my partner everyday.

Hange was Zeke's partner. Just the idea of getting in between a married couple had Levi's stomach turning and it had been easy to tick never right next to it.

My partner trusts me.

It was too early to tell, or so that was what Levi told himself then.

The word ‘partner’ had been a convenient term. Zeke had been a convenient presence in his mind. And that had him ticking all the 'nevers' towards the edge of the page just a little more confidently.

Technically, Hange wasn’t his partner. Technically they just met, so words like trust, amicability, happiness, charisma, compatibility and charm, didn’t have to apply to them just yet. A few minutes later, he had checked enough ‘nevers’ to have armed himself with the confidence to look her in the eye.

Hange though wasn’t reciprocating, looking deep in thought with whatever question she had been answering. She bit her lip.

Hange eventually met his gaze. Instead of being just a little more satisfied, Levi was a little disappointed, more in himself than in anyone else. For that few seconds that Hange bit her lower lip in thought, her cheekbones had seemed fuller, her hazel eyes held an almost imperceptible yet still very enthralling glimmer, and regretfully, he didn’t take the time to relish it when it was right in front of him.

“How’s the test?” Levi asked.

“It’s fine,” Hange said.

Levi slid his own answers towards her. “We just have to calculate the number of ‘always,’ the number of 'sometimes,' the number of ‘nevers’ and just match it on the document over here.” He turned his laptop towards her.

“I can do it,” Hange said, pulling the laptop towards herself. The next few minutes passed in silence. Levi stared at the ceiling, trying to keep his heartbeat in time with the clack of the keyboard. Hange typed fast and chaotically but in a way, there was rhythm and order and that had helped him get into a position where he could just drop his shoulders and fall back on the chair behind him.

“You don’t think I trust you?” Hange asked.

“It’s too early to tell right?” Levi said. That answer had been scripted and it slipped out of his mouth easily.

Hange’s let out a light sound, a cross between with a hum and a chuckle. “Well, to tell you the truth, I put here that I didn’t trust you either.”

“Well that makes both of us, I guess,” Levi said.

Hange continued to type, filling the room with some predictable rhythm, a predictable rhythm his own wild heartbeat failed to provide. Eventually, it stopped, with one loud clack on the ‘enter’ button or at least, Levi guessed it was the enter button.

Soon after, Hange leaned back on the backrest of her own chair. “Biometrics all fall in the acceptable range. Test results all fall in the unacceptable range,” she said, her tone unreadable. Too professional but Levi surmised it could be her usual ‘research’ tone. He hadn’t known her long enough to be certain.

“Maybe we should get to know each other first and try to answer again?” Hange suggested. “We just met so I can’t fully trust you yet but I think, we could get along with the right…”

Environment? Amount of time? Mutual Processing? Levi couldn’t be too sure of the answer. She had said something else after the word ‘right’ or maybe she didn’t. Still, there was a problem that needed to be solved, there was an issue that needed to be addressed that extended beyond the need to resolve the feelings between two strangers.

Or two colleagues. Levi decided he liked the word colleagues better. “So what do you suggest Hange?” Levi asked.

“I wanna do further research with this application. We can tweak whatever processes you’re using now to QA, whatever processes you’re using to determine whether people are in love. Maybe we just have to fix that a bit.”

“This application took years to develop. It’s gonna be difficult to overturn a lot of the processes.”

“Without the right funding…” Hange said. She wagged her finger and gave Levi a knowing look.

Levi narrowed his eyes accusingly at Hange. “So how’s convincing Zeke been going?”

“That’s the caveat,” Hange said. “He’s not a very techy guy. He’s an investor and scientist more than anything and sometimes, even with the right proposition, he’ll stick to some really weird reasons why he wouldn’t invest in something. I don’t blame him though since millions of dollars are usually on the line with each investment.”

" So, I’m guessing you tried to convince him?”

Hange nodded. “I did. And it looks like he won’t budge unless you fix that ‘bug.’”

“The bug which caused his love alarm to not ring around you?” And the bug which is causing our love alarms to ring. Levi added silently to himself. “Can you explain to him that we need the money to continue improving the system?”

“I’ve been with him for years, Levi. I know how he is.”

“So what do you suggest we do?”

Hange hummed. “I don’t know how programming works but...Maybe you can program the application to make it work just the way that Zeke likes it... For the time being?”

***

No. Just no.

Those were the words written all over Petra’s expression. Levi only had to look at the other faces around him to be very much sure, everyone agreed with Petra

For posterity’s sake, he repeated those words. “I understand that the regression test is done but unless I am able to get to the bottom of this bug, we won’t be able to release the fixes,” Levi said. He kept his words soft, yet still loud enough to echo through the conference room. He said it slowly and clearly. Just in case it was a bit harder to hear through shock and surprise.

“Sir, a lot of the fixes in this release have been promised for months,” Petra argued. The professionalism in her voice was still admirably apparent.

“Erwin’s orders. I’m just repeating them now,” Levi said.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Gunther asked. “Have you found the reason behind it? I’m guessing if you do… we might have to make some changes to the code and go through regression testing again.”

“If ever that happens, I’ll handle the testing on my end,” Levi said. “It wouldn't be too hard, it’s just a blip in the code.”

“So you’ve found the cause?” Eld asked.

“Yes.” If Levi didn’t open his mouth to speak then, he was sure no one would have for the next few minutes. There was something festering in the silence, some common sentiment that he sensed among them, among those doubtful faces tinged with irritation and confusion.

He had always told them before. Always assume a user error first. And there was an apparent user error which he was sure everyone was entertaining.

What if Hange just didn’t love Zeke? A prospect that was ambrosia to Levi’s lips but at the same time a piece of ambrosia that he was sure was laced with poison. He couldn’t chew it, he couldn’t swallow for fear of just letting go for a few seconds longer, letting a smile curl up his lips during the most inopportune times.

Levi turned to Oluo in particular who he guessed would have been the one most likely to bring it up. The latter remained begrudgingly silent. It looked like no one else wanted to bring it up either. After all, Zeke was a huge opportunity for company growth, a huge opportunity for investment.

Eld spoke up.“If there’s anything we can do, just please ask. It might be too difficult of an investigation to do for one person.”

Levi shook his head. “I think this is an investigation I’d rather do alone.” There were parts of the investigation he hadn’t admitted to the team yet. All they had gotten in the report from Erwin was that Zeke’s alarm didn’t ring with Hange there but the scandal of their alarms ringing together was something he didn’t want circulating around the building.

And more importantly, there was another plan he and Hange have been entertaining, an almost unscrupulous scheme and he didn’t want anyone else involved.

***

It felt like he had run a marathon and he had been doing that slow jog for at least three days already. Or maybe it felt like he was trudging through a dessert and had been trapped there for the past three days.

He couldn’t tell for sure but his throat was constantly dry, his heart was constantly beating fast and any notification from Hange was either a water break or an oasis.

Three days ago, Zeke came back from his business trip. Four days ago, Levi sent the apk file to Hange.

“It’s a test build,” Levi said as soon as she confirmed she received it. “A test build I hard coded just for Zeke’s use.”

“Meaning…”

“Just say it’s a test build. Say I’ve fixed the code.”

“Meaning…”

“I hardcoded his data and the expected result. If he opens the alarm around you, his phone will ring," Levi explained. "It’s just a quick fix for now.”

Just a quick fix. Levi told himself multiple times. He had changed the code drastically enough though that the love alarm wouldn’t work as an expected love alarm, having customized it just to fit Zeke’s desires. For just long enough to get the money and long enough to find the actual cause of the bug.

“And tell him we’re asking for feedback before we release it,” Levi had added then.

The last time he had met her was three days ago when he dropped her the file, explained its use and when she had promised to download the apk file to Zeke’s phone.

She sent intermittent updates over the four day period. He liked it. He was enjoying it. He had confidence in the application.

Levi had to ruefully note though that the conversation never strayed too much from work. As expected from colleagues, as expected from business partners working towards the same goal.

Maybe a few times he had asked some vague questions just to get a hint of her daily life.

How’s Zeke? How are you guys?

Still, the answers always went back to updates on the application. When he was trudging to the desert or while running through some dirt track in his mind, even when the water tasted too artificially like plastic---too professional for his taste---he settled for it.

That was the only water he had after all.

Hange limited herself to ten messages a day, mentioning something about being bad at replying, apologizing for late replies. Levi had to admit though when he was working, he was guilty of a similar thing. Yet he found himself just a little irritable, a little desolate at such an outcome.

A week after he had last seen Hange, he decided to start reading the books about love again.

Love is a choice. Overused.

To love others, one must love themselves. He got that already.

Levi dropped his reader by the side of his bed and stared at the blank ceiling above him. The books on love were biased. They created for themselves an assumption, an assumption that she was his and whatever he had to deal with was some inner turmoil inside him, an inability to love. But what if he was willing to love? What if it was just a matter of circumstances just not letting him indulge in such an emotion.

He had entertained that for just a second before brushing away the nagging thought and the annoyingly sticky guilt that clung to it. Maybe there was merit in just turning off his emotions then, just discarding the overall idea of love. He deleted the books Hange had sent him from his ebook reader.

If the company got the funds, if Hange got the greenlight on her research, he would see her again, he would be forced to read those books and they would be forced to work together.

Then and there, he didn’t need to think about it just yet. He didn’t have to put himself through the pain of analyzing circumstances and emotions that left a heavy weight and an ache in his chest.

He could forget Hange until then. He could ignore her messages and maybe focus on something else like an action movie or a video game. He had streaming service subscriptions, he had game emulators on his laptop. Soon he discovered, with the right combination of focus, willpower just getting through slow starts, it was easy to immerse himself in something as mundane as a city building game.

He was halfway through building one of his farms and was already attached to the regular city goers of the small city he created for himself when his phone rang. That abrupt and grating sound had been enough of a reminder, Levi still wasn’t completely over being sad. He quickly reached for the phone on the side of his bench in an ungraceful and seemingly desperate chain of motions that had him almost ashamed of himself.

His laptop had been one of the victims, toppling over to the side of the bed but by god’s grace it had only skimmed the edges before laying flat on its side.

Levi muttered a soft curse. This message better be worth it. And the only message he decided would be worth it, would be a message from Hange which didn’t involve that stupid application.

Leviiiiiii are you free? :))))))))))

Free when? Levi was quick to reply. Now? Tomorrow? Next week? Really, he was always free, it was just a matter of asking for a leave and opening his schedule. He didn’t want to seem so pathetic as to tell her that though

Long weekend this weekend so Zeke offered to take us south to one of our country clubs.

Us?

Erwin is coming too. Levi didn't’ know whether to feel relieved or disappointed at that exposition. Before he could reply though, the messages kept coming.

Think of it as a thank you for the app ;)

And a start to a great partnership ;)

Hange had too many smileys, too many winky faces but recently, she had started to pepper her messages with just a little too much. They were colleagues, very friendly colleagues. For a second, he wondered how many smileys Hange used when messaging Zeke.

Still, Levi saw some glimmer of hope and optimism in the fact that they were creating a special bond in their own way.

And who would he be to turn down a special invite from a special colleague. I’ll see you there then :) He added his own smiley in the end, trying to forget the fact that he had wasted a good few seconds vacillating between the winking smiley face and the normal one.

Hange’s reply came quickly and maybe a little more enthusiastically. Okay! We’ll pick you up Friday night at the office :D

Levi was grateful at least he had something to look forward to.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #zekehan

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hongism · 4 years ago

Text

tis the season - h.jisung 18+

↣ pairing: h.jisung x reader ↣ genre: pwp, smut ↣ wc: 1.7k ↣ for @clandestine-lixie smutmas collab! ↣ summary: jisung decides to give your first christmas present a little bit early but you've never been one to complain when his hands are on you

“Merry Christmas, angel.” The soft voice rumbles against your ear, thick with morning grogginess and a bit of a rasp to his tone. Your lips twitch into a small smile as you hear him speaking but you don’t get up yet. There’s still plenty of time left in the morning to bask in the warmth under the covers along with the almost sugary scent that emanates from your lover on the other side of the bed. He’s pressed hard against you under the sheets, legs tangled and joint like one unit, and you can feel the heat of his breath dashing down the back of your neck.

“Morning,” you mumble through a content sigh. Jisung’s arm tightens around your waist. His fingers splay over your abdomen, tucked neatly under the fabric of your shirt, and he traces unintelligible patterns against that same skin.

“I’ve got your first present ready,” Jisung whispers back. His lips ghost over the nape of your neck, tickling the skin there and stirring up your hair. You wiggle a bit in his grasp at the sensation, and when your hips push back, you feel something unmistakable press up against your backside. A groan slips past your lips, and you dare to glare at him over your shoulder when you realize what exactly it is.

“You absolute horndog.”

“That’s me!”

“You cheesy bastard.”

“That is also, unfortunately, me.”

“I can’t believe you. Are you gonna put your dick in a box and call that a present too?” You huff, and Jisung cackles in response, tossing his head back with the sound.

“I mean, that’s still a viable option, but we’ll either have to do it now or wait until after your parents leave tonight.” He purses his lips in your direction. You take it as an opportunity to slap the back of your hand against his puckered mouth, smiling on with fondness as he chases after your limb to kiss it properly.

“I’ll pass on the dick in a box, please. Not exactly something I wanna unwrap today.”

“God, you’re even cheesier than me. Why are you getting onto me when you’re making bad puns too?” Jisung whines and kicks a foot out to hit the back of your calf. The urge to roll your eyes is almost overwhelming but you push it down enough to roll over to face him head-on now.

“What are you gonna do about it?”

“Kiss you. Then hopefully fuck you.”

“Well get to it then, Han Jisung. We gotta be up and out of bed before eleven, and I will be taking a shower if we’re having morning sex.”

“You’re so hot when you’re bossy,” Jisung mutters, latching a hand around your waist and pulling you over his reclining form. You sink your teeth into your lower lip and let him resituate your body until he has you comfortably seated atop his crotch. The curve of his erection rubs deliciously against the fabric of your panties, pressing up into your folds. You give an experimental grind down onto his cock. The moan it elicits from his mouth is nothing short of euphoric, and you repeat the motion a second time just to hear it again. “F-Fuck, Y/N, that’s not – ah, that’s not what I had in mind but please, don’t stop.”

“So needy, Sungie,” you giggle from above him. A small bend at the waist has you coming down to meet him with your lips, catching his full ones with your own, and within seconds, Jisung slips his tongue into your mouth. His taste overwhelms your tongue, saliva sliding over your wet muscle as he explores your palate with a small hum of appreciation. You rock your hips over his in rhythm with the small thrusts of his tongue. With each noise he exhales into your mouth, you increase your pace until Jisung closes his fingers around your hips to stop the motions.

“If you keep that up, I’ll cum too soon.”

“Wanna fill me up, Sungie? Is that it?” You coo the questions in the shell of his ear. Goosebumps rise across the bare skin of his neck, and you watch them with a slight smirk curling the corners of your lips. “You can fill me up and breed me, baby. I don’t mind.”

“Fuck, I need to be in you now.”

“Someone is in a rush today.” You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth but sit back on your heels. Wandering hands find the band of Jisung’s underwear, tugging them down just enough to let his erect and leaking member spring loose. Jisung hisses at the contact of the cold morning air on his cock, and you only make matters worse by closing your fingers around him.

“You’re the one who told me to hurry,” he grits out as you give a teasing jerk to his length.

“Hm? Did you say something, darling?”

“Can I please fuck you now? I won’t ask for sex ever again!” The blatant lie draws a snort out of you, and you really do roll your eyes this time, along with shaking your head at his silly antics. Still, you heed his words and use your free hand to shove your underwear to the side.

“Lying is no good, Sungie, but you’re lucky I love you.”

Jisung opens his mouth to protest with some half-hearted refutation, but you line his cock head up with your entrance and begin to sink down on his member before he can say a word. The lack of preparation burns and stings a bit, and you’re forced to slow your movements once you get halfway down on him. You almost come to a complete halt, hands clutching the fabric of his shirt and bunching the material up around his waist. Jisung catches your discomfort in an instant, and his own hands fly up to join yours on his stomach.

“You okay, angel? Need to stop for a second?”

You shake your head vehemently while continuing to take his cock deeper and deeper until he finally bottoms out in your tight heat. Your velvet walls pulse a little around him as you begin to adjust to the stretch, but he’s right there to hold your hands and trace meaningless patterns over your skin until the tension finally leaves your shoulders.

“Okay, o-okay, I’m fine. You’re just bigger than I remember.”

“Excuse you, I’ve always been this big! I — oh fuck.”

You shut Jisung up with a tight squeeze around his dick, indulging in the way his breath hitches and his chest stutters with the motion. It encourages you to push up on your thighs, just enough so that only the tip of his cock is still in you, then you drop back down with a prolonged moan.

“I forgot how good you are at this,” Jisung groans as you begin to build up a steady pace with your bounces. His hands slip underneath yours, fingers interlocking with yours so that you both can have a better grip on each other as you ride him in a fit of passion.

“Only — ah, only for you, Sungie,” you pant through a smirk. You make sure to pulse your walls a little more with those words just so that you can revel in the way he squirms at the tightness of your core. As it turns out, you can’t keep that pace up forever though because after several minutes, your thighs are practically burning with the effort and you can hardly pull yourself along his length without help. Jisung at least seems to pick up on this and lets his hands slip down to your hips. He holds you up a little bit higher, just enough so that you aren’t putting as much weight on your aching heels, and pistons his cock back into you without missing a beat.

“So tight for me, angel, you feel so good around me,” he whispers, breaths so labored that you can barely hear the words through them. You don’t really need to hear them though thanks to the euphoric pleasure you’re in; each thrust has Jisung sliding over your sweet spot with a practiced expertise. Your moans are his cues to finding the right angle, and once he pinpoints it, he drags his cock over that place time and time again until you can feel your orgasm building up in your gut with haste.

“G-Gonna cum, baby. I need to cum,” you babble to the air above your head, neck bent at an awkward and painful angle. Your high crashes over you a moment later, and you curve forward to hunch over Jisung with lips parted in a silent scream. Jisung follows soon after, only managing a few more thrusts before he stills inside you. Warmth blossoms in your gut, swarms your core with a pleasant sensation of fullness, and Jisung must be enjoying it just as much as you based on the way he tugs you flat against his chest.

“Yeah, I fucking love you,” he murmurs into your ear. You respond with a quick kiss to his neck, making sure to suck a small mark there that hopefully won’t be too visible to your guests later.

“I love you too, Jisung, and as much as I would absolutely adore to stay here in your arms for the rest of Christmas, it’s time to shower and get ready for our guests.”

“Not even five more minutes?” He pushes his lip out and passes you the most pitiful pout imaginable. You nearly cave on the spot.

“You’re the one who wanted morning sex. You should have known better!”

“I thought my baby would be nice enough to give me five minutes of cuddling after sex.” The pout deepens. You blink once, twice, three times at him.

“Five minutes, and you have to carry me to the shower.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, ma’am.”

172 notes · View notes

timelesslords · 4 years ago

Note

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” and/or “Is that blood?” “…..No?” for the prompts please

thank u💕

send me a sentence starter and I’ll fill it for Percabeth

Annabeth Chase was just about ready to murder her boyfriend.

Capture the Flag night had started innocuous enough. Athena and Poseidon cabins had allied themselves, as was usual these days, and Ares was their biggest opponent. Annabeth had a stellar plan, a foolproof plan, some might say, a plan that all but guaranteed them to win.

Except for the fact that her idiot boyfriend couldn’t resist abandoning his post the second the field looked clear. It was a trap, it was so obviously a trap that Annabeth had no idea how he hadn’t seen it.

She had to give Clarisse some credit. Using one of their captured players as bait while also exposing the flag just a tad— it was exactly the type of thing that would draw Percy away from his post, to get him to abandon the plan.

They’d still won. Trap or no, it would be hard not to. But as soon as Annabeth realized Percy had abandoned his post, a very distinct mixture of anger and fear starting building in her gut.

And watching him run back to the blue team’s side, flag in hand, flushed with success, had only caused it all to boil over. There’d barely been time for his stupid, excited grin to slide off his face at seeing her expression before she stormed off.

He followed her. She’d expected him to.

“You left your post,” Annabeth said, before he could even ask.

“I don’t see what the big deal is. We still won,” Percy said, jogging to keep up with her.

It’s not about winning. It wasn’t even his compulsive need to play hero either, though that would have been enough to make her mad too.

“You didn’t follow the plan,” Annabeth snapped, refusing to look over at him even as he caught up to her, matching her pace easily. Curse him for being taller than her.

“Look, I saw an opportunity—”

“You saw a trap that was tailor-made for you—”

“An opportunity,” Percy repeated, cutting her off, “An opportunity to save one of our players and get the flag, and I took it. And we won. So what’s the big deal?”

What was the big deal? Just that his stupid savior complex wouldn’t stop playing out over and over again, even in the smallest ways. He didn’t even realize he was doing it sometimes, like just now. It wasn’t about Capture The Flag, not really. It was about the fact that he felt the need to throw himself in the most dangerous situations so someone else didn’t have to, even when it was just a game.

And there were plenty of times in his life, plenty of opportunities past and future for him to do the exact same thing when it wasn’t a game, when the consequences were very real and very dire.

She hated how mad it made her, because what was she supposed to say? I’d rather you let some other sap take the fall so you can live into your twenties?

And how was she supposed to tell him any of that when he was looking at her all smug and expectant?

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole,” Annabeth spat, doubling her pace.

“‘Beth—” he started, but he should have known better than to call her that when she was pissed at him, because her glare alone was enough to shut him up.

“Annabeth,” he tried again, “Come on.”

Annabeth stopped, whirled around, just about ready to give him a piece of her mind when she noticed a small spot on his shoulder. Some of the anger building in her chest deflated.

“I— is that blood?”

Percy glanced down at his shoulder. The bit of his orange camp shirt that was peering out from the gap between his chest and shoulder armor was starting to get stained a sticky brown color.

“...No?” he said, glancing back up at her with guilt in his eyes. All in all a thoroughly unconvincing lie.

“Percy,” Annabeth sighed.

“Clarisse nicked me with Maimer, it's not a big deal.”

It wasn’t a big deal. It really wasn’t. He’d probably gotten Clarisse back easily and they’d both laugh about it tomorrow.

Only, Clarisse wouldn’t have had the chance to use Maimer on him at all if he’d stuck to the fucking plan instead of throwing himself into the line of fire. And the next time he did this, what if it wasn’t just a cut? What if it was something much worse?

“Don’t stop being mad at me just because I’m bleeding,” Percy said, noticing her shift in demeanor.

“You don’t want me to stop being mad at you?” Annabeth asked, one eyebrow raised.

“No—” Percy said, running an agitated hand through his hair, “I mean obviously I don’t want you to be mad at me, but I barely even know why you’re mad at me and unless you tell me now you’re just going to be more mad later once I’ve stopped bleeding.”

“I’m still mad at you,” Annabeth said, but she’d already stepped forward, loosening the strap of his armor with quick practiced fingers. He let her do it, standing statue still.

“I’m sorry your plan didn’t get the credit it deserves,” he said, finally, “It was a good plan.”

Maybe you should use it next time rolled through her head, but then he might think that that’s what she cared about when that wasn’t it at all.

“I don’t care about getting credit,” Annabeth said, moving on to the other side of his chestplate, undoing the left strap the same as she’d done the right. “I don’t even care that we won.”

She saw his eyebrows jump slightly in surprise, but he managed not to say anything stupid in the next few moments, which had probably taken a lot of self-control.

“What do you care about, then?” he asked, shrugging off his chestplate. Most of the bloodstain had been hiding itself beneath his armor, and now that it was off it looked much bigger.

“You got hurt,” Annabeth said, eyes refusing to leave the patch of blood on his shirt.

“You were mad before you realized I was hurt,” Percy pointed out, “More mad, actually.”

“You wouldn’t be hurt at all if you’d ignored that stupid kid that got himself caught and stayed at your post,” Annabeth said, folding her arms over her chest. She still wasn’t looking at his face, but she could see his expression shift in his periphery, understanding starting to roll over his features.

“Ah,” he said, and Annabeth knew he understood, or was starting to. She felt a lump forming in her throat, but she swallowed it down.

“Would it kill you to let someone else take the fall? Just once?” she asked.

“Annabeth…”

“It’s not just this, you do it all the damn time,” Annabeth said, well aware that she sounded like a whining brat and not caring at all, “I don’t want to get sucked into some other stupid prophecy or a stupid quest, and I don’t want you to think you have to just because you’ve got the best chance of making it out alive. I just want us to survive long enough to go to college, is that too much to ask?”

She finally looked up at him, still trying very hard not to cry. Any trace of humor had vanished from his face, leaving it uncharacteristically resigned and serious.

“No. It’s not,” he said.

“Really?” Annabeth asked, voice small, still not quite believing him.

“No, you’re right, I—” he sighed heavily, eyes dropping to the ground, “I guess I’m just used to doing that, I don’t even really think about it.”

“Maybe you should,” Annabeth said, digging the heel of her sneaker into the dirt, arms still crossed over her chest.

“I will,” he said, and it sounded like a promise, “We’ve both done enough, and I—I’m not saying I’ll be perfect at it, but I am saying I’ll try.”

Annabeth took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. Trying was good. She could work with trying.

“Nothing world-altering,” Annabeth said, glancing up at him again. He was already smiling softly.

“Nothing world-altering,” he agreed.

She was still a little mad at him, and they were both gross and sweaty and he was still a little bloody, but she stepped forward and hugged him anyways. He hugged her back easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“So really, Capture The Flag is still fair game,” he said, as soon as she was safely in his arms.

“I’m going to kill you,” Annabeth said, but it came out with more laughter than she’d intended it to.

“At least fix me up before you do?” Percy asked hopefully.

“Fine,” she said, wiggling out of his embrace and tucking herself into his side instead. He wrapped an arm around her waist easily.

“But I better not have to next time,” she warned. He just smiled, pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“You won’t. I promise.”

#percabeth #ty for the prompt!#I was hoping someone would send in the blood one lol #percabeth fic #percy jackson #Annabeth chase #percy x annabeth #annabeth x percy #heroes of olympus #hoo fic #pjo fic #i imagine this sometime post BOO pre-apollo series #anon #prompt fill #hoo #pjo

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horanghaechan · 4 years ago

Text

Dream in a Dream (M)

pairing: Prince!Ten x Princess!You

word count: 6k

warnings: written in 3rd person, mature content, fluffy, ten being the love of my life

synopsis: The Four Great Kingdoms took turns to maintain the peace of a planet called Mahabhuta. However, when minor rebellions threaten its stability, two kingdoms seek an alliance. But, hearts could never be war weapons. What to do when one of them is already committed to another?

Inspired by indian/turkish stuff and Avatar lol

[a/n]: since he (and his smile) was the reason i started stanning nct back in march 2016 (lol) i decided to post this here, the original version is in portuguese and posted on my fic site. happy bday, phonphon, you deserve the world.

also, english is not my first language so any grammar/etc mistake please let me know!

First of all, a small glossary so you don’t get lost:

The cycle of the Great Kingdoms of Mahabhuta takes place by:

Kingdom of Prithvi (Kingdom of Earth)

Kingdom of Apas-Jal (Kingdom of Water)

Kingdom of Agni (Kingdom of Fire)

Kingdom of Vayu (Kingdom of Air)

However, there is Akasha (Heaven, "vacuum"), by which all other kingdoms are "subjected". Akasha’s laws override any other law, as they were enacted prior to the division of Mahābhūta.

The hierarchy in each kingdom consists of:

Samraat and Samrajni – emperor and empress;

Maharaja and Maharani – king and queen, used formally for the heirs of the throne;

Raja and Rani – king and queen, used informally with the heirs of the throne.

Some words used by the characters and their meanings:

Evet: an informal way of saying “yes”;

Nei: an informal way of saying “no”;

Shokran: “thanks” said from peasants to monarchs;

Shukriya: “thanks” said from monarchs to peasants;

Olum: interjection of astonishment, incredulity.

Om Shanti: good luck.

Findi: petname, which can mean both “love” and “sweetheart”, normally related to married couples.

☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼

Border between Vayu and Prithvi, Apas-Jal Era.

Some carriages and soldiers crossed the bridge across the border of the Kingdom of Prithvi. Everyone there was fully aware of what they were doing, but no one hesitated. Keeping Maharani of Vayu happy was the only thing they were looking for.

“Rani Y/N are you sure that Raja Chittaphon will be waiting for us?” Ipek, Y/N’s chaperone and personal maid, asked worriedly.

“Evet.” Y/N nodded. “It’s our only chance.”

“Samraat Bhima will be horrified when he notices that you are missing.”

“He will.” The princess smiled. “But he’ll eventually understand that I had to.”

“Everyone will be delighted when you get married to Raja Chittaphon, right?!” Ipek smiled when she noticed how the girl’s face lit up at her question.

“Hopefully so, Ipek. That’s what I’m aiming for.” Y/N sighed, biting another smile. Remembering Chittaphon always resulted in moments like that, where everything melted and she became a puddle of love.

She still shivered like a fool when she remembered when they met.

Flashback on

Jala, Kingdom of Apas-Jal, 3 years ago

The corridors of the Palace of Jala were huge and very confusing. There were no separated doors, let alone identification by floors or wings. Y/N walked blindly through them, because she couldn’t remember where they assigned her rooms earlier.

“Well, I’m sure it’s not here.” One of the doors opened and a boy came out of it, on his back, wearing a typical outfit of the monarchs she knew.

“Olum!” Y/N froze on her place.

“Oh, are you the owner of this room?” He turned to her, drawing her attention to the pair of amused chestnut eyes that stared at her.

“Nei, nei. I’m lost.” She confessed. “I thought the floor was empty.”

“They told me that the Kingdom of Agni would be on the third floor, according to the cycle, but I confess I’m having trouble counting. Is it the third excluding the ground floor, or the third from the ground?” The boy smiled and she felt her heart flutter.

She absolutely adored smiles.

And... Olum, that smile was out of this world!

“Well, guess I’m twice wrong, then.” she blushed.

“You’re not from Agni, I suppose.”

“Nei. I’m from Vayu.” She extended her hand, indicating the ring of the Compass Rose, which was the symbol of her kingdom. “I ended getting lost...”

“Ten, from Agni.” the boy showed his own ring too, a ruby sun adorning his hand. Only monarchs wore such rings. “Maybe if we go back where you came from, we’ll be able to find your chaperone.”

“Y/N, from Vayu.” She bowed, understanding now with whom she spoke. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Maharaja Chittaphon.”

“Olum, it can’t be!” Another lovely smile painted his thin lips. “Maharani Y/N Vatavaran?” Ten sounded excited. “I spent years trying to get to know you!”

“Really?” Y/N raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Indeed! Did you think that you could remain incognito forever? All kingdoms are curious about the Heiress of the Air.” he signalled for them to start walking. He couldn’t touch her until they were officially introduced. “I suppose you make your debut at tonight’s ball?”

“My parents decided that it’s time for me to seek popularity.” She nodded. “I’m a little afraid, you know? Balls have always seemed too formal.”

“And they are.” Ten agreed. “But as soon as we are introduced, I’ll ask for one dance, and I hope you’ll save me a page on your card.”

“As I don’t know anyone, you’ll have them all.” She laughed.

“Perfect! So I won’t have to keep company with the Apas.”

“Don’t you like water?”

“I don’t like anything that puts out fire.” Ten joked casually, and then realized that the princess was puzzled by his comment. “Don’t worry, the air tends to spread it. I really like the air.” The same amusement gleam flashed through those chestnut eyes.

Y/N also had made up her mind: she liked the fire a lot.

End of flashback

Closing her eyes, Y/N waited for the right time to relax. When the antelope’s hooves stopped, she knew it was near.

“Maharani Vatavaran, we have arrived.” One of the soldiers tapped the carriage window twice, breaking the silence. “Maharaja Bhumi is waiting for you.”

“I’ll go down. Shukriya.” Y/N smiled. “We’ll meet tomorrow, Ipek. Watch out for any strange movements, pay close attention to the air! As we are in Prithvi you may feel weaker, but just focus on the atmosphere.”

“Evet, evet. Now go, we have no time to waste!” Ipek rushed her.

“Off I go.” Y/N smiled. “Wish me luck.”

“Om Shanti.” Ipek raised her hands to her face, crossing them in the shape of a bird and touching her forehead between them, a gesture of undoubted respect to Her Highness.

Y/N got out of the carriage and came across Bhumi, Prithvi’s heir. They had become very close friends when they were in Jala, because Bhumi was Ten’s close cousin. Adding up to their escapade, Varaha, capital of Prithvi, was extremely close to Akasha – if all went well, they’d need just two days to arrive there.

“I’m glad you made it!” Bhumi hugged her. “Ten must be on his way.” He signalled for a carriage behind them. “If they saw Vayu’s carriage we might have had problems, so I thought it is better to use mine until we get to the house.”

“Thanks for helping.” She thanked him, getting into the car.

“You know my weaknesses are love stories, Y/N.” Bhumi laughed. “I asked some guards to take the road to Akasha and they reported that it is in perfect condition. I separated two stops, one in Urvarak and the other in Chattaan; if you manage to reach Chattaan tomorrow by the afternoon, Akasha is just an hour away, so you can rest and do everything at dawn. I estimate that by lunchtime you’ll be married.” Bhumi gave her hands a soft squeeze. “Om Shanti, cousin.”

“Thank you, dear. But can’t we go straight to Chattaan?”

“It’d be very risky and a tad tiring. If other guards notice a strange movement on the roads, it’ll be warned to my father and everything will go down the drain.”

“Then we will follow the pace of normal travelers.” Y/N nodded. “Ipek is following in a carriage with some of my guards, but there is nothing that indicates my presence or relation to me. Do you think they are in danger?”

“If there’s nothing of yours with her, then I don’t believe so.” Bhumi waved a hand, dispensing bad luck. “As soon as they reach Urvarak, if they wish, they can go up in the air and proceed directly to Akasha, without stopping by Chattaan, or just taking a short rest. But, in my point of view, it’d be a little risky, no? Since your father will notice your disappearance in a few hours...”

“I’ll talk to Ipek, then. It would be really good if we had someone waiting for us in Akasha.” Y/N stared at the road. “How long does it take for Urvarak?”

“If you leave this morning, you’ll be there before sunset. That, of course, if you stop to eat and everything.” Bhumi loosened a belt that held his royal attire. “We will be near Varaha in a few minutes, but I’ll drop you off at home and go to the palace. You need to be aware because only Ten knows where it is.”

“Do you think he hasn’t arrived yet?”

“I don’t know how it went with the guards at the border, even if I let them know he was coming.” Bhumi sighed. “In times of crisis, things get chaotic.’

“I hope we don’t make this a bigger problem.” Y/N sighed.

“Love inevitably creates problems, baby.” he laughed. “But, a Maharaja has always been able to choose his wife and vice versa. I don’t see your marriage as an affront to Mahabhuta’s balance, but exactly what Apas-Jal and Agni wanted to do: an alliance. So, if we are to have an alliance, let it be real and auspicious.”

“Ah Bhumi, dear, you’re so good with words.” Y/N laughed, trying to relax.

☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼

The house consisted of Prithvi’s standard architecture, with various stone details and spearhead adornments. After hugging and thanking Bhumi four more times, Y/N quietly entered the house, dressed as an ordinary Vahara citizen. It was very good that Bhumi had chosen a normal property instead of a more luxurious and aristocratic house.

She put her bag in the living room and walked to the bathroom, desperate to shower and do her hair. It could be the height of futility, but Y/N did not want Ten to see her sloppy and dirty. All those times they met when she was air bending were enough... They, in general, involved a lot of dust and dry leaves.

“Of course Bhumi would do that.” Y/N sweetly smiled when she found cinnamon essence in the bathroom. This was, in the best description, Vayu’s “official” smell.

While the water in the bathtub heated up, Y/N stretched out a lacy mid-length dress and a cloak. She had brought, in addition to that outfit, another white dress – which she would wear the day she arrived in Akasha – and a dark green dress.

Y/N smoothed the velvet piece and smiled a little. She was starting quite an adventure, but couldn’t find the slightest regret for what she was doing. For sure, if she had to choose, she would do everything again and again.

After washing up, Y/N was braiding her hair when she heard a noise coming from the kitchen. She felt chills down her spine, but because the house had only one floor, anyone who entered it would make enough noise for her to prepare before she could cross the room. Awareness spread through her and she held tight on her hairbrush and a small hand mirror – since there wasn’t enough time to look for any other weapon.

“Y/N?” Her name came out loud in a soft voice, almost like velvet.

“Ten!” dropping all objects, she ran to him.

The couple hugged each other, trying to make up for all the one-month longing in those few seconds. A never-ending month in which Ten had heard about the arranged marriage; he and Y/N did not have much chance of communicating; and in which each other’s world seemed to get off track with the possibility of not being able to be together as they wanted to.

“How are you? Did you arrive safely?” Ten caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, loving how Y/N’s eyes closed at the slightest touch.

“I got scared thinking the house was invaded, but now I’m fine. And yes, I arrived safely thanks to Bhumi’s assistance.” she smiled.

“Sorry, I heard the water and decided it’d be respectful to wait.”

“There’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” Y/N blinked, wickedly.

“I know.” Ten brought his face close to hers. “But I thought we had agreed not to do anything else until the wedding?!”

“To look doesn’t mean to touch.” She lifted her chin, voice dripping challenge.

“It turns out, little devil, I’m not so magnanimous.” He pressed his lips to hers, savouring the longing. The last time they saw each other they had to be quick, because it was at the reunion of the kingdoms, and although they could not participate actively, the heirs had an obligation to be present.

Ten circled her waist, breathing in the cinnamon and melting on Y/N’s tongue. Her whole body was on fire – almost not so figuratively – when they were together. Even though he knew they couldn’t waste time, he delighted himself with a few bites on her neck, fighting the urge to take the kiss further.

“I swear I can’t wait to be married.” She whispered. “Then I won’t need to count our minutes together.”

“Soon.” Ten winked. “We are leaving this morning, right?”

“I think it would be ideal. Bhumi said that we can get to Akasha in two days, or we can cut some time, but we would not have Ipek anticipating any problems. It’s up to you.” She shrugged.

“We’ll do what is best at the moment, findi.” Ten smiled. “This nickname gets better and better just because it reminds me that it should be used by married people.”

“You are very keen to remember that we will get married.”

“In Agni, marriage is one of the best things that could happen to anyone, you know?” He let Y/N get out of his arms. “You can’t blame me for this.”

“I don’t blame you, but your excitement is so evident that it makes me look disinterested… And you know I’m not.”

“It’ll show up as soon as we have tied our strings.”

Y/N smiled at the mention, because the wedding rite in Akasha had, as one of the main points, to use strings. Each kingdom had its specific ritual, and they should be performed according to the bride and groom’s wishes (and the place they were in, regardless of their nationalities). When Y/N was learning about kingdoms and their cultures, she never imagined that she’d marry in Akasha, let alone with their celebration. She couldn’t wait to put it into practice.

“How’s the situation in Agni?” Y/N asked as she folded her clothes.

“Kinda stable.” Ten sat on the bed and removed his boots. “Dad thinks it’s a matter of time before it spreads to other regions other than the capital”.

“I hope nobody gets seriously hurt until we get this solved.”

“For now there was nothing.” he nodded. “Just two fires in abandoned houses. The big problem is that this affects the population indirectly; after all, you never know when they will start attacking them. Psychological terror is the worst weapon.”

“Do you think we’re going to make it worse by getting married?” Y/N swallowed.

“I think...” Ten looked at her, a small smile adorning his beautiful face. “That love is a force far greater than greed and power. If two prosperous kingdoms tied by love, and nothing but love, fails to reach everyone’s heart, then no alliance between two other kingdoms will change reality.” He held out his hand, looking for hers over the velvet dress. “I didn’t lie when I said I would set the world on fire if something hurt you, findi. It only takes one word and we return to our kingdoms.”

“No!” she denied fervently. “I won’t give you up. I only worry about these rebellions...” She shrugged. “But I love you, Ten. You know that, right?”

“Always.” he nodded. “Why don’t we rest before leaving?!”

☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼

The two of them really tried to rest, but the growing tension and adrenaline from their escape were too much. Long before planned, they were already on the road, heading towards Urvarak.

“It’s amazing how, despite the night, everyone lives normally. Look at how crowded the road is!” Y/N commented, surprised. “The Kingdom that never sleeps, really.”

“We have a stop in forty minutes. If you’re cold, I can stop to get the blanket from the trunk.” Ten, the gentleman he was, offered.

“I’m fine, findi. If anything, I can hug you and I’ll be warm soon.”

“If you don’t want to be attacked by my kisses, I advise you to stay away.”

“What if I want?” She raised her eyebrow.

“Seriously Y/N, I don’t know what to do with you!” he laughed. “We’ll definitely take the air route and get married as soon as possible.”

“It’s amazing how shy I still am with your flirty banters.” Y/N sighed, because in spite of being bold, that was not quite how she felt.

Sometimes she managed to keep on her carefree persona, but her feelings for Ten always made her embarrass herself. It summed up in a fool, enchanted by any movement or word spoken by him... Especially when they were addressed to her. Olum, how difficult it was to remain serious at public parties! Both of them needed to behave as if they didn’t like each other more than the “necessary”, as if they had priorities and not wished to spend every second together. Thanks to Bhumi, they were able to get away often and make some time to ease their longing.

“Ah, Rani Y/N,” he clicked his tongue. “why does this shyness never appear when it should?” His chestnut eyes flashed in a playful glow.

“Stop it, Ten!” She laughed, shyly. “but, I must confess, I don’t regret you being the first. In everything.”

“It would be a little too late to regret it, you know?” Ten pinned. “However, that does not diminish the pleasure of listening to your confession. I hope that, in addition to being your first, I’ll also be your last.”

“If we get to Akasha really fast...” She batted her well-trained lashes, like a she used to do when trying to manipulate her father into thinking she was sweet and innocent.

“It’s decided! At the next stop I’ll look for antelopes and tomorrow afternoon we’ll be married.” Ten shook his head like an indignant little boy.

“In my suitcase I have a Vayu scroll and I will make sure that it reaches Ipek as soon as possible.” Y/N winked at the groom.

“What a helpful wife I got!

“Olum, you can’t even imagine.” She grinned.

☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼

The innkeeper explained to them how to get to the antelopes in two stops. They had thirty minutes until there, and the horses were losing their pace along the way. Fear not, Y/N thought, since she already had everything worked out in her head!

Probably, her father would be finding out about her disappearance at that moment, and then he would start searching the palace and the gardens. Then, when he didn’t find her, he would request searches around the city. Then, the Royal Guard would issue a search warrant to all kingdoms, and perhaps Chittaphon’s parents would warn Vayu of his disappearance as well. Then they would finally come to conclusion of what happened to the two heirs, and if they were as smart as Y/N hoped, they would march to Akasha.

Only that it would be too late.

Because she’d be married!

Perfect.

The antelope route was really the best option.

“Maybe I can bend some air so the horses can rest. I can make sure no one notices that they’re floating...”

“You schemed.” Ten laughed. “I don’t know why I thought I wouldn’t do it.”

“Perhaps you’re so excited about the escape that you didn’t pay close attention.” She joked. Everyone knew how much Maharani Y/N loved to turn things into schemes. “Well, if my plan is right, we have about fifteen hours to get married and consummate it, avoiding, even if improbable, it to be nulled.” she laughed. “Therefore, we indeed have to take the air route.”

“Amazing, findi.” Ten winked.

☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼

Akasha was a wonderful city. Y/N visited there only twice: when she was born, and when she reached her adult age, so she had to seize her title of heiress. She remembered the big trees, especially the cherry ones, the colourful houses, the bright and clean streets, the undeniably blue sky... There never seemed to exist bad weather in Akasha! When they stopped in front of the temple where they would celebrate their wedding, Y/N’s heart raced. It was a large and flowery place, like a cottage, with symbols of the four kingdoms and their specific plants. Two carriages (one with her guards and the other with his) were waiting for them in the parking lot. Impatient, Ten grabbed her hand and they both entered the temple, drowning in emotion and adrenaline.

“Ready?”

“Always.” she smiled.

Ipek, who had been instructed to organize everything, was talking to two monks and the celebrator. As soon as she saw Her Highness, she ran to help her get ready. They couldn’t waste a second of the day!

The typical ceremonial dress Ipek got was cream coloured, adorned with gold accents, and a dark green – almost black – velvet cape that made the costume extremely elegant. From the bar to the knee, the lines formed spirals and points that resembled the starry sky or some forest/landscape seen from above. Her hair was braided with gold threads and cherry blossoms, because they were the symbol of Akasha. At her hands, in addition to the jewels she was supposed to wear, temporary ink tattooed the main crests of the four kingdoms extended from the wrist to the elbow, to indicate the union of these nations. On her feet, more drawings, up to the height of her shin. She should be barefoot, connecting to the nature and the land, as a sign of balance.

“Raja Chittaphon is ready.” Ipek returned to the salon where Y/N was dressed. “Now we just need the ornaments on the face and you can go!”

“I’m anxious.” Y/N exhaled. “Let’s get on with it soon!”

“I promise it will be very quick.”

After Ipek used powder from shiny stones and glued three diamonds above her left eyebrow, Y/N was ready.

Ipek and two guards accompanied her to the decorated courtyard, where those responsible for marrying her had started the blessing in Ten, preventing him from seeing her. Y/N watched, with her racing heart, the black and gold velvet suit he wore, a single cherry blossom attached to the left side of his chest.

“We’re ready.” The monk guided her to the entrance of the hall.

After a short speech in Akasha’s dialect, one of the monks began to play a harp, while Y/N crossed the room towards Ten, not knowing how to react to the prince’s brilliant and hypnotic gaze.

When they faced each other, the monk handed them a small vase with coloured sand. According to the ritual, the sand symbolized “the union of two different points in the name of something greater” in this case, love, and each one should pour a little of it on a plate, so that the mixture of colours creates a new one: their colour. Y/N watched wordlessly as a lilac originated from the mixture.

“Now hold hands.” The man responsible for the ceremony instructed. “This is the thread of companionship. For Akasha, you are one, but this does not mean that you should forget who you were before the wedding. One hand is tied to the partner’s, while the other is free to remind you that there is room for both to grow together and individually.” He tied the ribbon on their fist. “Still united, we will recite the vows and walk towards the end of the celebration.”

Y/N and Ten repeated each word very calmly, although their hearts were desperate for the end. After washing their feet in the water of the main river, Kundalini, to purify their bodies in this new phase, the couple still had to plant a tree as well, symbolizing their growth. And, to the sound of “Under the laws of Akasha, I declare you husband and wife”, several fireworks were lit. Ipek started the party by playing a soft melody over two lovers, and the people present continued with the dance. The newest couple stared at each other, laughing.

“I think this is our cue to escape... Findi.” The nickname now sounded a thousand times wicked in Ten’s voice. “Let’s go?”

“I was counting the seconds.” Y/N nodded, intertwining their fingers, as they still had one hand joined.

☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼

Ten undid the first tie of Y/N’s dress quite slowly. He had done it a few times, but at that moment, it was too special to ruin it in a hurry. They were finally married. He no longer needed to be quick with Y/N. Now they had all the time in the world to love each other as they deserved.

“Do you need help?” Y/N frowned.

“No, findi. I just want to... Take it slow.” The light entering the room made his eyes even brighter. “Because you deserve to be adored, from head to toe. Quietly. Every inch.” To demonstrate his words, he raised her fist and glued his mouth to it, running his tongue lightly over her soft skin.

“Ten...” She breathed weakly, it tickled.

“What?” He smiled. “‘Ah Ten’, ‘more Ten’, ‘please, Ten’?”

“Pretentious rake.” Y/N shook her head, feeling her heart explode with joy.

“Your pretentious rake. Your favourite rake. Yours, for eternity.”

She closed her eyes at those words. She was his, too, since the damn smile he gave her in the hall of Apas-Jal’s palace. Olum, how could one live with so much love inside them?! And how lucky had she been to feel that and be reciprocated?!

I’m staying up

I don’t wanna come down from your love

Ten pulled her close, melting his mouth on her neck, biting and sucking like he knew she liked. He wrapped his arms around her, throwing the damn tie to the floor. Y/N smelled extremely well, having washed and removed the tattoos she was supposed to use for the wedding ceremony. His fingers tangled in the fabric of her nightgown at the mere sound of her quiet moan, trying to go easy, to remain chill. He didn’t want to go fast. He had to stay calm.

“Let’s go to the bed, huh?” Y/N suggested, knees buckling from all those emotions.

“I tell you I want to take it easy and you urge me to go fast...” He shook his head, carefully guiding her to the huge mattress. “What should I do?”

“You can start by kissing me here.” She signalled from her collarbone to the valley between the breasts. Ten smiled. “Or, you can let me take off your clothes...”

It’s not that she didn’t want to be worshiped from head to toe, but if her calculations didn’t fail, someone from the Kingdom of Vayu would arrive in Akasha by the end of the afternoon... And if the wedding wasn’t consummated, they could be in trouble. She and Chittaphon never took more than thirty minutes with sex, because there were always too many people around and if they were five minutes late, someone would miss one of them. It was unfair that their first time since married had to be rushed too, but they would have a whole life together.

But, Y/N should be grateful. At least they were together.

“What are you thinking?”

“Schemes.” She joked.

“ Now, now, Rani Y/N, that was an unfortunate answer.” He started unbuttoning his shirt. “Guess I’ll need to be a little cruel this time. I don’t want you thinking about anything other than my mouth and my fingers on your body.”

“Or your dick.” Y/N smirked, satisfied with the provocation.

She closed her eyes and felt Ten’s lips come down over her shoulder, paiting small bites. With her legs spread, he found space to rest between her thighs while devouring each centimetre of the princess. Her calculations were forgotten as soon as his fingertips went up the hem of her dress, sliding down the inside of her thighs, making her shiver. He reached her underwear and touched her clothed womanhood.

“I want you to do that again.” Y/N moaned.

“Do what?”

“You know what.” She gasped when he brushed her swollen spot.

“I don’t know,” He commented wickedly. “But I have an idea of what it is… And for that, I will finally need to take your clothes off.” He couldn’t believe that after months he’d be able to see her completely naked again.

Rather than feeling shy, Y/N was more than willing to throw the sleeping dress away. They never had much time to get rid of all their clothes, so she was also counting on Ten naked. It had been a long time since she had had such a privilege to see him like that. And the view was always a spectacle!

She sat up suddenly, leaving him a little unbalanced, but grinning. Y/N started pulling on her nightgown anyway, not caring if she would tear it up. Ten could bent fire, but what burned inside her was pure lust. He would have a hard time controlling his wife, especially if he continued to look at her as if she were a work of art. But as soon as the fabric passed over her head, Y/N didn’t have time to absorb the intensity of his eyes. Ten pulled her by the hand, kissing her urgently.

With the princess in his lap, he got rid of his shirt and tried to open his trousers’ button. To give him enough space, Y/N stepped back a little, noting a new detail in his left arm: there were two lines near the elbow, one thick and the other a little thinner. Unlike the wedding tattoos, those lines seemed permanent.

“What is it?” She asked curiously.

“In Agni, every married man should have this tattoo. It is like a ring that we never take out or lose.” Ten looked at his arm. “Women should have these lines on their ankles, but since you are not from Agni, I thought it best not to ask you to tattoo it.”

“I want to!” She cut him off. “I’ll do it, if you want me to.”

“Really?” Ten smiled. He was always touched by Y/N’s loving manner. She was his best companion, in any situation. Even when they could get in trouble, Y/N would not leave him alone. She preferred that they’d get scolded together than to leave him. “Then, as soon as we wake up, I’ll ask the monk to arrange everything.”

“I think I will have a charming ankle.” She stretched out one leg, moving close to where Ten wanted her most. “Oh, oops...” Y/N smirked, faking a shy laugh.

“Findi, findi.” He shook his head, matching her smirk.

“Let me make up for the distraction.” Y/N moved away as she lowered her hands to his pants, finishing unbuttoning them.

“Your wish is my command, findi.”

We’ll get lost together

Let me flow

Ten swallowed hard as soon as he felt her mouth kissing his abdomen. Y/N was not ashamed of trying to please him. She was always receptive and creative, making each time something very unique and very special. Unlike what was expected of an Air Princess – known for being more reserved and a little cold. Y/N had fire inside her. She burned like him… Burned with him. For him.

With her delicate fingers, Y/N removed Ten’s pants, and began her exploration on his belly, playing with the fine line of hair up to the underwear he was wearing. It was unusual for her to dedicate themselves so much to foreplay, but she was loving seeing Ten so mesmerized by her movements. Very gently, Y/N took him with one hand, going on with a lazy back and forth motion, just to make him double hard and more desperate. Her eyes found the glowing chestnut globes and she smirked, causing a burst of pleasure to break inside Ten, who moaned loudly.

That was enough for him. Blast trying to prolong the moment! He needed Y/N and he needed her now. Pulling her by the chin, they came face to face.

“I miss you,” The distance between their mouths became even smaller. “around me.”

The kiss began sweet, slow, but charged with lust. Both were already familiar with the delicious sensations that any scarce touch between them provided, but nothing compared to the anxiety build during foreplay. It was very, very good. Their bodies were tickling and hot, their hearts beating fast and their minds remembering all those times when they were together.

How glorious it was when they met.

It was a different, more intense sensation. Y/N didn’t understand why she wanted to cry and laugh out loud, like a crazy girl. The tossed their underwear out, surrendering to the bubbling desire. Ten put her hands on his shoulders and smiled warmly, making the frenzy an act of zeal. He leaned down to kiss her again, and from there, it was automatic. Y/N’s hip followed its own will and moved, showing exactly what it was looking for. The kiss became wet and some moans escaped not so quietly. Ten’s husky voice was the turning point for the princess.

“Come here.” He asked in a whisper.

Ten turned her on the bed and stood over her, waist between her legs. He entered without warning, fast and strong. A louder than expected groan left her throat, earning a chuckle mixed with a grunt from the prince. Y/N brought her hands to his back, dividing her attention between his shoulder blades and his dark, silky hair. With a love bite at the junction of her neck and shoulder, Ten started to move. Slow and intense, but picking up as the seconds passed by. Y/N already knew what to do to please him, so she devoted herself to his neck, trying to occupy her mouth with something other than “Oh, Ten” or scandalous moans. He grabbed one of her thighs and wrapped it around her waist, managing to reach deeper. Then, he was thrusting hard and fast. Y/N rolled her eyes and arched her back, forgetting about the whole world.

This was perfect.

Her stomach churned with several knots of pleasure, the peak of her orgasm reaching its maximum when Ten grabbed her face and kissed her urgently. Y/N felt the spasms in every cell, not knowing if she was able to enjoy her climax and kiss Ten at the same time. The prince continued to dive deeper until he too reached his release, making her want to get there again. Y/N slipped a hand to her swollen spot and began to rub it, tightening her muscles even more and listening to Ten’s sexy growls. And it worked.

Don’t ever let me come down from your love

From your love, from your love

☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼

Ten examined his wife’s ankle, amused by the way she didn’t try to pretend that the tattoo was a “big deal”.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t want to tell me that this was common in Agni.” She lowered her dress’ skirt. “It looks rather cute on my ankle, doesn’t it?”

“You look rather cute, indeed.”

“Not me, the tattoo you didn’t want to tell me about!” She grinned.

“Are we going to talk about this again?” He hugged her, placing a sweet kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, anyway, for accepting. I love you.”

“My pleasure.” Y/N waved her hand. “Love you more.”

Ten offered her a glass of water and a cookie, because she hadn’t eaten breakfast in her desperation to get the tattoo. The monk finished cleaning the room and excused himself, but as soon as he left, Ipek hurried in.

“Rani Y/N! Rani Y/N!”

“What is it, Ipek?” Y/N disengaged herself from Ten’s embrace and stood up.

“Samraat Bhima is here... And he didn’t come alone.” Ipek pointed to the window.

When she pulled the curtain, Y/N could see Vayu’s flags extending across a large part of the street, accompanied by some of Agni’s. She turned to Ten in a mixture of concern and joy. It was time to announce to the kingdoms what they had done. And to hope that love would be enough.

“Olum, findi, it looks like we have some nations to win back.” She grinned.

And hand in hand, they went out to face the nations of Air and Fire.

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