#it was yellow n pink n i was the most stunning person at the family gathering

[sandsucks]

eid mubarak!! i hope everyone who celebrated today had a wonderful lovely time! 🌸✨

[no-droids]

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gif credit: @javier-pena

Part Eighteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.5K

Warnings: SMUT, religion kink (maybe?), squirting, consensual stalking/pursuing, canon-typical violence, mention of underage drinking, uhh I believe that’s it but as always, let me know if I’ve forgotten anything please!

A/N: Hey yall!!!  So I know this chapter has been a long time coming and though I’m not completely satisfied with it, I hope it brings a little happiness to you for an hour or two while you read!  School has been kicking my ass and I’ve been in a bit of an emotional slump recently, but I pulled a few all-nighters to post this on time and it’s finally finished!  Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and sent me encouraging words over the past month or so, I hope you enjoy the end of the Sanctuary arc💕

Also like last time, part 2 of my collaboration with @followwhereshegoes will be posted after the chapter!!  As a reminder, sweet girl is a reader insert and every imagining of her will be different—this is Lisa’s interpretation of her and her artwork is absolutely gorgeous, so please go give her a follow!

Day 5–11:13am:

You zone out again in the early morning, but that happens a lot.  Din always keeps you up so late, all the time, and without any caf here, the rising sun just makes your eyes droop instead of flutter brighter and wider.  You helped a bunch of younglings find their way into their robes when it was still dark out, tying sashes and fitting masks while holding back your yawns.  The walk into Nariss is close to three hours, probably more with all these tiny little legs, and you almost forget to change into your new digs before everyone grabs breakfast.

Even though your ragtag entourage leaves for Nariss just as soon as everyone finishes eating, you don’t reach the city until nearly lunchtime.  Mostly because the kids walk about as fast as the elderly holy women chaperoning the trip.  You and Naydee lag behind the group, forcing yourself to meander slow as fuck when you nearly sprinted this same exact path just a few days ago.  On the way there, you listen to children of all sorts sing happily as they walk, chatter about their excitement for the parade, complain about wearing the fabric mask they made themselves, and more than once, somebody takes a tumble onto the ground and is left in teary sniffles and dirt stained clothes.  Likely for this reason, the robes are designed to be two pieces—a long tunic with a hood and a separate pants portion to prevent tripping instead of a draping skirt, but the smallest ones are clumsy and find a way to fall anyways.

It’s a colorful bunch—a chaotic rainbow of babies running around, and you share easy conversation with your new friend about the plans for the day until she asks something that makes you nearly trip and join the dirty robe club.

“Sister Drya said your family is meeting you in the city,” she tells you, ignoring your immediate subtle toe stub and the awkward shuffle you have to do to make up for it.  “There’s going to be lots of people downtown, I’m worried it might be hard for them to find you.”

Your heart thuds in your chest and you feel a bit short of breath at being abruptly confronted with the need to lie, but at the same time, you kind of love it.  Having a secret, hiding the truth from others, and just the reminder that you’re almost guaranteed to see Din and the baby before midnight pours warmth and tingles through your tummy.  Everything together is a hit of spice, filling you with a kind of excitement that used to be foreign to you.  Having fun, experiencing new things isn’t quite over yet, but home is calling and you miss it with every fiber of your being.

“I don’t think so,” you eventually respond, hoping she can see your kind smile and the sentiment it carries even as light, shimmery fabric wraps right around your mouth.  “If I disappear, you’ll know why.”

Naydee’s eyes crinkle in the corners to match yours.  “Hopefully you’ll be able to see the fireworks first,” she nudges you, her skin glowing against the pale cream fabric she has wrapped around her own mouth and the hood laying delicately over her braids.  “They start at eight.”

The fireworks, you almost forgot.  You know what?  Today is a good day.  You hear yourself think the full sentence multiple times, and the words put a spring in your step after every single one.  The road gradually becomes wider and filled with more travelers, and you feel safe in the back.  Like some kind of sheepdog bringing up the rear of this migrating cluster of children, making sure none of them drift off by themselves and start eating grass or something.

Surprisingly, the kids manage to be relatively patient and well-behaved once they’re in line at the gates.  The Sisters shuffle them along one by one as everyone moves up slowly, taking even longer to get into the city than it did a few days ago.  The entrance is packed already—so many people visiting for the festival, and they’re all dressed in costumes or robes of sorts, or at least a mask.  Most are beautifully crafted, but some manage to look slightly scary even with the soft springtime color schemes.  It’s a completely different world, a different life for each person as you pass them by.  Your stomach is starting to growl by the time you finally make it to the front, and luckily the guards just let the kids through without any ceremony.  Just you and the rest of the caretakers in light robes need to hold still for the retinal scan, matching each other perfectly except for differing shades of fabric, skin, and eye color.  Once the gates open for you and you step through, though… it’s… Maker.

Extravagant, magnificent are both words.  Floral is another.

It’s like they hung up bouquets wherever they could think to fit them, and this is just the edge of the city.  As the group moves through the streets and closer to downtown, it becomes more and more overwhelming.  The air itself is a warm fragrance wafting all around you, sunshiney and breezy and perfect, flowers of all kinds lining the modern buildings and archways like they were planted there from the very beginning and it just took this long to bloom between the cracks in the concrete.  You wish you had names for all of them so you could list them—the only thing you can offer is the color and vague descriptions of the ones that stick out to you.  Tiny yellow ones that are so small, they need to be bunched all together in massive quantities to even resemble normal flowers.  Up overhead, elaborate arrangements of enormous blue and purple and pink ones, wrapping around each other and hanging down from rooftops.  Some don’t even have petals, it’s like they’re big green cups that are big enough to hold things inside them.  You’re fascinated by every single one, wanting to stop and smell them all individually but needing to keep up with the large group and not allow any stragglers to be left behind, including yourself.

About an hour later, when you’re almost in the middle of the city and there are people everywhere, it’s time to eat lunch.  There isn’t much to it because of how expensive it is, and you’d normally feel bad for accepting the small meal each one of the children gets, but you donated all of your credits to the Keja and left absolutely zero for yourself.  Good intentions, terrible idea.  Still, you pull your mask down and snack on some deliciously fried food, trying not to eye anyone else’s platter after you finish yours.  It’s so good and it’s gone in an instant; you couldn’t even say what exactly it was besides which stall you got it at.  Whether it’s just the brilliant atmosphere or if the food on this moon is really just that good, you’re not really sure, but you’re still slightly hungry afterwards with no extra money to sneak a snack.

Soon after, the kids all line up to get their faces painted, or whatever portion of their face is visible behind the cloth masks and hoods they’ve got on, and music blares from at least four different directions and none of the songs are even in the same language.  Depending on the part of town, it seems like the celebrations are all different.  It makes sense, considering most if not all of these individuals were victims of the Empire’s wrath, spread far and wide across the galaxy.  Here, they’re free, and they want everyone to know it.  Spring festivals of some sort are likely common for most cultures, at least those from planets with seasons, not like Arvala-7 where it was arid and hot year-round, and you’re assuming there are multiple things being celebrated today depending on which street you live on.  There’s chanting in different tongues, dancing and drums, outfits and masks from different cultures every single time you look.

At some point, the children spot a crowded street with flowery rails set up all along them, and you stand behind the tiny heads while everyone waits for the parade to begin.  You think your heart has just been beating slightly faster than normal all day today, but when you finally hear the sound of sirens blaring in the distance and cheers begin to pour out from the gathered crowd, it kicks up and you feel like you’re just as wide eyed at the spectacle as the waist-high babies all huddled together up against the railing.

A flurry of people and things pass in slow succession.  First, New Republic officers with their blaring holobikes, bright orange as always.  Then come large groups of people walking behind banners in languages you can’t read, some of them waving, some of them making different sounds and songs.  Bands marching in formation, dancers in dresses and masks and gorgeous flowers in their hair like crowns, and then brilliant hovering vehicles decorated in bright colors and festive depictions.  The craftsmanship and cultural significance is stunning to witness, it’s so insanely loud, there’s so much going on, and yet…

Through it all, you think of Din.  No matter the faces, the sights you see.  There’s someone juggling.  There’s either a very tall man and woman walking together or they’re both on stilts.  There are enormous balloons being led through the air, people are riding atop an assortment of animals you’ve never seen before, there are traditional costumes and spectacular stunts being performed.  Stalls with games and prizes line the stretches of concrete on the cross streets, people are laughing and celebrating and drinking in equal parts, everything is so lively and festive and fun, and yet, though it all, you think of Din.  Him and the baby, they’re always in the forefront of your mind, occupying your thoughts and making your tummy stir more and more as the time passes like the parade in front of you.  You don’t think this environment would ever be his favorite, and in some far away galaxy, perhaps if you lived other lives together and called a beautiful moon exactly like this home, then you might have to drag him out to see all the with you and the kid every year.  You’d have to bat your eyelashes and kiss his cheek and snuggle up to him all nice and pretty like, and he’d probably grumble and complain about it while wrapping his arms around you—all the people and the noise, sweet girl—but he’d go.  For you, he’d go.

Your thoughts suddenly stop short and you blink for a second.  Why… Why was that scene so vivid?  So wistful?  You used to preoccupy yourself with fantasies about Din all the time, back before you even knew him as Din.  But in every single one, it was sexual and likely came from a place of boredom, a lack of external stimulation.  Here you are amidst bustling surroundings, and you’re daydreaming about domesticity with him.  Why?  You want to travel the galaxy, right?  You want to see things you’ve never seen before, right?

For some reason, you think of the floor, and you miss it.

***

Day 5—5:04pm:

It’s late afternoon at this point and nobody can find the teens.

More people have made their way into the city and it’s starting to get extremely fucking crowded, especially where you are downtown, and the handful of them must’ve slipped away with all the excitement happening and how difficult it is to keep the young ones together now that the parade is over.  You don’t know how long they’ve been gone—one second they were walking around just slightly detached from the rest of you, you assumed because the boisterous younglings fucked with their cool vibe, and then the next Naydee is gasping out to you that they’re gone.

“Sister Drya is going to kill me,” she hisses, her dark eyebrows furrowed in self-admonishment and stress.  So many fucking people here, you know her pain.  “I was supposed to be chaperoning them, they were just here—”

She shakes her head under the loose, cream-colored hood, groaning and then speeding up her gait to catch up with the woman in charge, but you decide to grab her wrist before she can relay the bad news.  

“I can go find them,” you offer, speaking as low as you can with the blaring noise surrounding you.  “Before anyone knows they’re missing.  Is there a way to convince everybody to stay in one spot for a little while?  You won’t get in trouble, but I need to know how to find you again.”

Naydee’s eyes widen in surprise, and even though it’s likely a bit out of character for you, you have a feeling it’ll be a deceptively easy task.  Even with the masses right now and how atrociously big this city is, you already have a general idea of where they’re likely to be.  Besides, you’re not even sure your absence will be noticed if Naydee is the only one who figured out the teens were gone—the other Sisters can thrive without you while missing anyone else would be noticeable, and you owe your new friend a thousand favors for helping you out these past few days.  The least you can do is save her from the scolding of one of the scariest old ladies you've ever met.

“Be as quick as you can,” she finally agrees.  It’s a lot of trust to put into you, but you’ve had experience in reading the most unreadable man in the entire galaxy, some teenagers shouldn’t pose too much of a problem.  “If you’re not back in thirty minutes or somebody notices, I’ll have to say something.”

You nod, silently breaking away from the group without another word.  You think you can hear her announce to everyone that it might be best to eat dinner now to skip any long lines later—smart—but you’re out of their hearing range and line of sight almost immediately.

***

Day 5–5:17pm:

“Really?”  You raise an eyebrow since they won’t be able to see the way your mouth is twisted up underneath your mask, crossing your arms and tapping your foot against the ground to further illustrate just how not fucking impressed you are.

Seven teenagers freeze, and slowly—depending on how much bravery they can individually muster—they turn around on their stools to face you.  The atmosphere in the tavern is bustling and cheery, booze being passed around a large crowd that laughs and mingles, but your vibe is stone cold and quiet.  The contrast doesn’t feel wrong on you like it normally would; the negative and disapproving energy you’re emitting makes you feel powerful, untouchable, armored and strong.

“How did you find us so fast?”  One of the twin boys squeaks out behind a light blue robe, sounding worried.

“Had a hunch,” you grumble, glaring sternly at each of them in turn.  Your tone is dry, your voice sits lower in your throat when you’re pissed off.  All you had to do was look for the closest bar that doesn’t have any orange jumpsuits poking around waiting to card underage younglings, it wasn’t that difficult.  “You’re not exactly unpredictable.”

“Are you gonna rat us out?”  The other twin asks you, in a voice that’s oddly deep compared to his brother.

“I should,” you snap, quickly reaching out to push their drinks away.  “I should let Sister Drya rain down her holy fury on your asses, got good people all twisted up over you for nothing and I’m missing dinn—”

You don’t know why, but you suddenly cut yourself off and jerk upright, spinning around.

The sounds of glasses clinking and boisterous voices fill the bar, but they seem to fade out for a second.  Your eyes fly around the crowded space, your heart lodged in your throat and looking for anything reflective.  Every flash you see is a false alarm—belt buckle, wristwatch, cocktail shaker—

He’s here… isn’t he?

Only, there’s nothing.  Nothing is out of place, nothing jumps out at you the way you’re assuming it will.  You’re braced taut and ready to bolt at the first sign of a chase, but it never comes.

It’s so… unexpected, this feeling.  It’s not like you’re being hunted anymore, but instead, you’re the hunter.  You’re feeling the weight of him from this far away and it’s like he’s calling for you to come find him, teasing the wild adrenaline rush you get from just feeling his presence, as if he absolutely knows it happens.  Whispering soft in your ear and then vanishing the second you’re able to turn around, like he’s here but he’s not.  Playing with you from so far away.

This… this is a taunt.  

The whole thing at the inn was leagues below this, that was rudimentary.  Teasing, getting even, having fun with each other, whatever you want to call that, that’s what it was.  This is scarily sophisticated.  Fluid and practiced and the best kind of frightening, stark and dangerous compared to the carefree and upbeat setting surrounding you.  You’re not making it up, it’s not just you being paranoid.  You know him with your eyes closed.  You know he’s here somewhere watching you, just like you know the starlight that streaks across the pitch black horizon of hyperspace.  Not because you can see it, not really, not directly.  But because by it, even in the vastest and darkest and emptiest of voids, you’re suddenly able to see everything else.

“You okay, Nerida?”

The volume gradually comes back up and you blink, suddenly remembering where you are, who else is with you.  The chatter becomes slightly louder than it seemed before.

“Yeah,” you eventually say, slightly airy while continuing to stare emptily at the crowded room.  He’s not here, you don’t think, not anymore at least.  But you’re not stupid, you know what this means.  You’re already caught, there’s nothing you can conceivably do that will delay the reunion for the next—you look down and pull the loose sleeve up to check your communicator—seven fucking hours, there’s no way.  He’ll pull back and follow you, keep up with you from a distance and then snatch you away right when you let your guard down.  You at least need to get the kids back to their guardians before that can happen, though.

“Let’s go,” you quietly tell the group of foundlings, grabbing elbows and hauling them out of their stools.  “Naydee was the only one who knew that you were gone when I left.  Here’s to hoping she managed to keep it that way.”

***

Day 5–5:32pm:

Against all odds, you’re able to rally the wayward teens and successfully lead them through shoulders that are beginning to move closer together as the crowd grows and grows.  You stay towards the back and don’t look behind you once—not only do you not want to give the younglings an unnecessary reason to become paranoid or to question your actions, but you can still feel Din lingering.  Moving like a shadow, probably fitting in perfectly with the masked festival-goers, nothing drawing any attention to him with all the spectacular sights and noise occurring.

Soon you return to the same spot from before, and you and the teenagers seamlessly integrate yourselves back into the rest of the group without anyone noticing a thing is out of place.  When you move to stand beside her, Naydee’s bone-deep sigh of relief is palpable even behind the concealing fabric; she squeezes your hand incredibly tight in a silent gesture of thanks, and then pulls something from the deep pockets of her robe and passes it to you sneakily.  A purple fruit.  She must’ve saved it for you.

Maker, fuck yes.  It’s not much but it’s more dinner than any of the seven troublemakers get, but Naydee quietly assures you they’ll be able to eat something once they return to the Keja around midnight, just not the tasty expensive treats they’re selling at the vendors.  As the sun goes down, you try not to stain your pretty fabric a deep maroon as you chomp and feel your lips start to curl upwards.  It sounds so fucking stupid when you put it like this, but you keep going back to Din and revelling in knowing that he’s so close, like you’re just mentally checking in on him.  You don’t get the sensation by thinking, though—more like you just focus really hard on your heart and feel him there just a second afterwards.

Is that how pure, stupid, shameless love feels when you’re completely entrenched in it?  It’s not like it’s surrounding you, it’s not suffocating you or making you float.  It’s just a thing.  Like… a thing inside your chest, a physical thing you can search for and find, something you can point to on your body and say it’s right here, this is where my love for him lives.  Right at the bottom of your heart, right where it curves and beats strong when other hearts meet flat at sharp angles.  You do it over and over again, reconfirming its existence every single time.  You don’t know what else you’d call it.  Love is the only word.  To love, to know.  To hold in the heart.

Soon, you start to notice that people are slowly moving around your stationary group.  You look up and watch the crowd begin to walk, some of them giving soft smiles to the cute children as they pass by, but all of them following the same unspoken direction.

“Where is everyone going?”  You ask Naydee, standing on your tiptoes to watch the crowd migrate like a giant system, an organism or mechanism of thousands (or tens of thousands?) of smaller moving parts all traveling in tandem.  It’s fascinating—you’ve been to crowded places, you know what it looks like when a lot of people are packed into one area, but you’ve never seen what it looks like when they all move together.  They would normally be bumping into each other, slipping in between, fighting and never really getting anywhere, interacting individually and thinking separately.  Now they’re progressing in one single direction, so many with the same mindset and understanding of what comes next.  A second parade, almost, with New Republic officers directing the flow of pedestrians as they pass.

“The eastern part of the city!”  Naydee yells over the noise and points, and beyond her extended finger, you can barely see the light of a dusky body of water in the distance beyond the buildings.  “The fireworks are going to go off over the bay, but it takes awhile to get there!”

“Is…”  You blink for a second, suddenly caught off guard, trying to think back to the holomap the concierge pulled up at the front desk of the inn.  Surely you would’ve noticed it, but your sudden childlike hope makes you ask anyway.  “Is it part of an ocean?”

Naydee shakes her head.  “A really big lake!”

Your shoulders drop just the slightest bit in disappointment but still, you ache to see it.  You can’t even imagine—the fireworks are likely going to reflect across the water, giving everyone double the view.  And luckily, after all the children and caretakers are individually accounted for, you start to behind the slow-moving crowd towards the docks you know lie beyond.  

Naydee scurries ahead to keep the kids together, ushering them forward and preventing any drunk passer-bys from accidentally stepping on them, and you quietly bring up the very rear of the entourage.  You take the time to observe more than anything, walk in the back and experience instead of trailblaze.  So many people, so many stories to be told, so many differences and diversity around you.  Your face is partially concealed and you don’t move your head too much, just your eyes.  They flick around to take in everything, the crowd thinning little by little as you make it out of the confined space downtown.  You’re able to make out full bodies and outfits again instead of just heads and shoulders, allowing you to breathe just a bit easier under your mask.

And then at one point—and it’s almost a little startling because it happens all at once—the organizers must decide that the sun has officially gone down, because the lights come on.  All of a sudden, paper lanterns and bulbs flicker into existence all around you and the world decides it wants to glow, glint and twinkle from the inside out.  They’re everywhere, draping across rooftops and tangled around street signs and stuffed into the flower bouquets overhead, raining soft colors down on everything.  You’re in complete awe, trying to keep walking but also needing to look at as much as fucking possible in the suddenly luminescent city.  It’s so colorful, so vernal and warm and you feel like you’re… Like when you took a shower on the Crest for the first time and spent a few happy moments just playing with the water and soap for your own enjoyment, it’s as if all the brilliant rainbow of colors the bubbles would make under the fluorescent light decided to surround you at the same time.  You’re inside stained glass, blinking at the flowers and wondering if Din can even smell the air or if it’s filtered, processed and reduced to nothing under the helmet.

And that’s when you see him.

But with the way your chest rapidly constricts and you can count your heart beats as they pound, blaring white noise through your ears and adrenaline through your veins, it’s like he's just allowing it to happen.  You immediately understand that you don’t have fucking anything the second your eyes land on him; this isn’t a heads up that you caught wind of early, it’s not a gift or an advantage you’ve incidentally gained over him that you should be thankful for.  Being able to see him directly like this, being able to make out all these fucking details from this far away…  This just feels like you’re being informed of the endgame right before it comes.  If you were anyone else, if you were a real bounty and this was a real hunt, his armor glinting and reflecting the lanterns overhead would feel like a knife you're about to be on the wrong side of.

You have a decision to make, very quickly.  Either keep in this same direction, head straight towards him and just pretend like you are who you’re dressed as, a random caretaker for a bunch of rowdy foundlings during a spring festival on Nariss, or disappear.  Drop back, move through the crowd and use the distance you have between you right now as your only hope of getting away in time.  Neither one gives you a particular advantage—your chances of being caught have already skyrocketed exponentially just being able to see the reflection in his armor, the hovering shield at his side with big black eyes… staring directly at you.

You almost trip over your pantlegs, gasping.  Baby.  He beams at you and you think he calls out through the passing crowd, his tiny arms extending out, and your chest feels like you’re pulling organs as if they were muscles, cramping up and seizing with emotion.  You want to run to them even though you’re meant to be running from them, call out over the noise and wave even though you’re not supposed to.  You want to hold the kid again, squish his little forehead with kisses, walk around with Din’s hand pressed against your lower back and see the fireworks with him.

Your hands clutch at the draping fabric covering your chest, pulling and twisting it uncertainly.  What do you do, what do you do?

No matter what, you know it’s over.  Keep your head down and try to move past him, or break away from your group and try to escape—both are different paths that lead to the same result.  What’s the point of running when he’s the one chasing you?  The heart-pounding thrill is the only reason you’re even considering it, but his body stands so tall amongst the crowd, not moving while people ebb and flow like a river passing around him.

Except then you can hear his voice repeat the last thing he said to you in person as if he says it directly into the comm in your ear.  When you do see me… try to outrun.

You should run—run, it’s better than just hoping he doesn’t see you when you already know he does.

Unless…

Out of a trillion different possibilities, you soon realize that there is exactly one situation in which this could turn out in your favor.  You can immediately picture the scenario in your mind, but there’s just too many variables to conceivably rely on getting them all right.  This maybe has a… two percent chance of working?  Maybe?  Everything would have to go perfectly, just fucking flawlessly, but what other choice do you have?  Two percent is better than whatever odds you’re dealing with now.

You walk silently behind the group of foundlings as you approach closer and closer, keeping your head purposefully down as they skip and giggle and dance ahead.  He knows you’re here—he has to know, you’re counting on him knowing.  Walk right in front of him, pretend like you don’t see, make sure you keep left.  Keep left, keep left, keep your head down, keep your head down—

A leather glove suddenly catches hold of your wrist hard enough to tug you backwards.

Your gasp is audible over the sound of the crowd and you spin around, jerking your head up to look at him in fear.  Your heart slams as the beskar reflects your mask and hood back at you—you’re terrified and it shows, you can see it in your eyes.

You quickly try to yank your hand away, even as your index finger stretches up towards the communicator around his wrist.

“Miss Nerida?”  A child’s voice cries, and then small hands grab at you from behind as you bury the urge to actually fight him.  Your instincts are demanding you attack when his grip is this strong, but you just whine and struggle, slapping weakly at him with your free hand and feeling more of the younglings begin to pull at you, their high pitched voices calling more and more attention to the scene.

Your gaze flicks to the side, suddenly landing on a pair of New Republic officers helping direct the thousands of moving bodies from the closest street corner.  They’re looking at you, pointing and beginning to speak into their own comm units.  Din’s helmet snaps sideways to follow your gaze, and then he’s immediately dropping your wrist and stepping back, retreating as quickly as he caught you.  Though you don’t want to—though you don’t want to give yourself away even more, you want to pretend fully that he was a complete stranger and the children were right to try to help you get away—your eyes fall to your son in the hovering crib by his side and you feel yourself crumble just a bit.

Just a few more hours, kid.  A few more hours.

Children pull you away while your pursuers both disappear into the crowd, and you quickly turn to soothe the tiny babies instead of chasing after the one you miss so terribly.

“I’m alright,” you tell them, scooting them up and encouraging them to continue walking.  Blend in, blend in, don’t let anybody think anything is wrong.  “Come on, we’re fine, come on, we have to catch up.”

They take your lead as soon as one of the caretakers turns around and sees the small group crowding around you.  You think she asks what happened, but you just tell her a man mistook you for someone else and nothing more comes of it.  She’s able to settle the chaos better than you are, and by the time you’re continuing to travel forwards once more like nothing happened, the communicator suddenly flicks on in your ear.

“What did you do?”  He breathes out, his footsteps moving fast through his voice.  He’s traveling much quicker than you expected—is he still being followed?  The officers are gone from your sight, they might be going after him right now, weaving between bodies and calling out to the perpetually vanishing glint of armor as he navigates his way out of danger.

You look down at the comm on your wrist and your heart nearly soars with victory.  It worked.  It worked.  You just have to outlast a bit longer, don’t draw any extra attention to it—he’s preoccupied and he certainly doesn’t sound happy, but you hope that’ll be enough to make him slip.  Use his frustration to your advantage, let him think the only thing you were successful at was momentarily escaping him.

“The cops weren’t part of the plan,” you admit quietly, keeping your head down as your loose hood billows in the twilight breeze.  “Don’t get caught.”

There’s a few moments of just his breathing, his footsteps, and the noise floor humming through the comm, before he finally responds.  “You look beautiful.”

You stare unseeingly down at the concrete under your feet, still feeling your hand tingle from where he caught you.  The line abruptly mutes on his end and you just keep moving forward, onward, wanting to look back but knowing he’s already long gone.

***

Day 5–5:24pm:

Din is fucking furious.

He had you.  You were right there, right in front of him, and even if he hadn’t been subtly trailing you all day, seeing the red footsteps get covered and flicker out of existence just a few moments after you make them, he would’ve recognized you anywhere.  In black and white, in the fading light, with your face covered, children calling you by a different name and attaching themselves to you like they’ve known you forever—doesn’t matter, he would’ve known you.  Your eyes have always given you away, always so expressive and starry and soft, but able to see right through solid steel whenever you look at him.

But then you slipped from his grasp, and then more guards pushed him further and further away from you.  They must all be in constant communication, because every single jumpsuit he sees immediately spots him and starts following.  It’s fucking exhausting, and he thinks of you the whole time.

He waits in a dark alley with the kid and taps the side of the helmet a few times to bring up the time on his comm, but then relaxes just slightly when he sees the hour.  It’s earlier than he thought it was, he’ll be able to find you again.

Though, something tugs at him while he’s looking at the clock ticking away in front of his eyes, counting down each second that passes.  There was… a moment.  Back in the square, when he was holding onto you again, when you were looking directly into his once more—everything in his helmet— 

No, he shakes his head while the kid looks up at him curiously, it can’t be.  It was just a split second, it was gone so fast.

But he can’t get rid of it.  Though there’s no explanation, he thinks the display screen flickered.  The sky behind you looked different for a single frame, your footsteps weren’t bright red and visible anymore, your eyes weren’t grey and he stopped wondering what shade of fabric you and your friend decided to choose for you to wear.  It was silvery, he’s almost certain.  Like his armor, it only reflected the color of everything around it.

Color.  Everywhere.  Bursting for a blink of an eye, and then gone just as quick, before he could actually figure out what it really meant.

***

Day 5–6:59pm:

This water is quiet here, but it sparkles.

It doesn’t ever really get truly dark thanks to the enormous hanging moon and ringed gas giant dancing with Sanctuary II, constantly reflecting light back onto the surface and reacting with some of the trace chemicals up above the atmosphere, and you think the sky just might be the prettiest you’ve ever seen it.  Must have something to do with the equinox, the glimmering angles of light being played with by celestial bodies in this stunning system, but it’s a dream.  The Maker apparently couldn’t decide which colors he wanted tonight so he just splashed all of them together all at once, let them run and blend like ink in the gentle water below, like the various people who call this moon home.

That view in front of you, coupled with all the flowers and lanterns lining the streets behind you, and you’ve lost track of time the exact same way you hoped Din would.  You think you’ve stood for about an hour or so in this one spot, half-listening to excited chatter from the babies, mostly just gazing across the stretch of water and being able to just barely spot the docks in the distance, but it feels like it’s only been minutes.

You check your watch—the fireworks should be starting any second now.  You don’t know what to expect, just that in your experience, explosions tend to be loud.  You've decided you’re not going to plug your ears, though.  Tummy twisting with nerves and another inexplicable feeling you can’t quite put your finger on, you resolve to experience the unknown exactly the way it’s meant to be.  Fully, without worry or fear.

Then, lacking any warning or ceremony whatsoever, a single flare launches silent and high from one of the small boats skimming the bay, and the crowd seems to hold its collective breath as the dim light disappears into thin air for a split second, before—

It’s… quite possibly the most dazzling thing you think you’ve ever seen.  So shamelessly decorative just for the sake of it, not serving any other practical purpose besides celebration and visual spectacle, and you’ll probably never know another extravagance like it.  You grew up with dust pelting against tired eyes, you never thought they’d get to reflect such gorgeous bursts of color back up at the sky, glassy and childlike amongst a group of equally wide-eyed children.

As expected, a deafening boom follows closely behind the singular display, but just witnessing it is incredible enough to make you forget to brace yourself for the sound and you jump almost violently in response.  There comes a loud cheer from the people standing around you, a few delighted gasps and children who decide now is the best time to start crying, but then more flares begin to launch from the boats and the subsequent show will sear itself into your memory to replay over and over again.

Still, you think the endless sky and dark water below would have to light on fire to stop him from coming to mind.

Din.

You click the comm on, continuing to stare in stunned awe but wanting nothing more than to hear his voice right now, feel his hand rest on your lower back and the kid’s three fingers squeezing one of yours while the stars rain down from above.  You’re only continuing to run from him because it’s expected of you, that’s the reason you’re here, but it’s becoming harder and harder to argue with yourself.  “Do you always see in black and white?”

It takes him just a few seconds to respond, but he always does.  “Only when I’m tracking someone.”

The loud booms can be heard over the earpiece, happening maybe a second after they crack and sparkle above you.  You can’t tell if the latency is due to the electronics or if he’s just that far away from the source of the sound itself, but… you don’t think he is.  He feels close again, like he could just walk up right next to you any second, or maybe that’s just how he always feels now.

“Does that mean you haven’t seen the sky here?”  You ask after a moment.  This whole time, everything has been grey for him?

“I saw it,” Din murmurs, and even though it’s quiet and explosions are thundering loud enough to deafen more sensitive ears, his quiet voice somehow breaks through it all.  “When you left the Crest, I saw it behind you.”

For some reason, you suddenly feel like crying.  Whether it’s the way he phrases it or the sentiment in the words, you’re close to tears without even knowing why, looking up at the sky illuminating spectacularly.  He says it like he wasn’t the one who parked on this moon and told you to go on without him.  “Can you… turn it off for just a second?”

He takes a second, before clarifying for you.  “I turn it off and I lose your footprints.”

So that was the ultimatum.  He doesn’t want to turn it off until you’re back with him again.  Does he not understand?  Does he not know what you know?  Maybe you just happened to feel it first, this overwhelming physical sensation inside you whenever you think about him.  It’s like the exact opposite of a hole in your chest.  And it’s so odd, so counterintuitive.  Being comforted in his absence, feeling him with you when he isn’t.  Falling in love in the dark, knowing him without ever seeing him.

“You never needed them,” you say, reaching up to pull your mask down under your jaw and chin for a moment, wanting to freely breathe the freshwater and flowers while stars explode and fracture across the sky.  It’s a truth you’re acknowledging, something you’ll carry with you, something you fundamentally own at this point.  “You’d find me without the helmet.  And I’d find you.”

The fireworks continue to bleed into the water beneath them, multicolor splashes rippling into existence and disappearing just as quick.  You could’ve never imagined a more colorful, magnificent landscape—besides your waterfall on Naboo, of course.  That was a pure product of nature though, a place hidden away and untouched by people, completely sacred.  Light refracting against mist, natural glass that would shatter under your weight.  This is a celebration of life and family.  Loud in a different way, affecting you in a different way, but just as wonderful and touching.  A cultivated paradise, designed to be beautiful and safe only because they wanted it to be.

“Think so?”  He asks softly.  He sounds so deep and warm, but… a little distant.  You’re able to hear it in his words.  You don’t know why, though.  Doesn’t he believe you?  Perhaps… perhaps this isn’t The Way.  Perhaps this is part of a completely different oath, one where knowing and loving somebody isn’t the same thing as looking at their face, not at all.  Where you can have them exist entirely separate from each other, because this is love.  This is real, enduring, bone-deep love, and you haven’t ever seen his face, so how would he explain that?  How would the Mandalorians reconcile that?  You bear the mark of the mudhorn, you’ve moved through time and space with him, you’re a mother to his son, and you’ve never seen his face.  It defies both the Mandalorian oath and traditional understandings of love, or it meets them right in the middle, depending on how you look at it.

“I know so.”  For the first time, you think you might sound more confident and certain than he does.  Maybe he doesn’t fully get it yet, but then you suppose he’ll just have to trust you.  “Will you look at the sky?”

“I see it,” Din tells you, but you know he doesn’t.  Not the way you want him to.  And stars, you just want so many things for him, don’t you?  The sky, fresh air, water, light, food, rest.  You want him to see the galaxy the way you do—have a new appreciation for the gifts that are given just because you’re alive to experience them.  All the physics and mathematics aligned perfectly for it to happen—all the chemistry, the systems, the dynamics that dictate the universe, they all got together and crafted a world where you, him, and the kid all exist together at the same time.  You want him to know the significance of that.

“With color?”  You ask, knowing his answer before he seems to.

“I…”  Din wants to argue, or at least say it again.  He can’t or he’ll lose you, he already told you he doesn’t want to turn the setting off.  It’s such an unnecessary conflict, but you want to respect it so much that you’re willing to give up things of your own to make it happen.

“How do I fix it then?”  You whisper, so desperately wanting this one thing for him, this one grandeur to behold.  How do you fix this problem?  How do you convince him to look with you?  You’d offer to just go and find him instead of continuing to run away for the next few hours, but you know the show will be over soon and you don’t have much time left.  “Do you want me to come look for you?  It’ll be too late by then, you’re too far away.  Look at the sky.”

It’s silent for a moment—truly silent, even though colorful bombs are going off above the bay.  You don’t know why you’ve attached yourself to this so strongly, but it’s almost devastating when you don’t get a response.  You look away from the spectacle for the first time in an eternity, gazing unseeingly into the crowd of onlookers with a sudden sadness taking hold of you.  He won’t look, he’s too stubborn, he holds onto things too tightly.

But then, a flurry of flares start launching in rapid succession from the distant boats, screaming and crying on their way up and then igniting into showers of light, and the abrupt increase in activity manages to catch your attention once again.  This must be the end, they saved the best for last.  Every corner of the horizon flashes and sparks, and you’re mesmerized at how bright it is, how many colors they’ve managed to fit into one single frame.

“It’s beautiful,” comes his voice, and the smile that you break into feels just right for the brilliance of the view above you.  Maker, it is, isn’t it?  Now you can hear it—he sounds like he’s looking at it too, with color, in all its breathtaking glory, and you feel like you’re flying.  Like he picked you up and let you watch up close, like you can feel his armor under your fingers right now as he carries you through the sky.

It swells up inside you, a rising wave similar to the ones you can see in the distance, and you know you probably shouldn’t say it because it’s not in your best interest to say it right now, but you have to say it anyways.  It’s an unknowable compulsion, a need to connect and communicate directly with him but for your sake, not presently, not at this exact moment in time.

Luckily, you mute your comm just in time and simply give the words to him from very far away.

“Hurry up,” you say, sending the sentiment into the sky with all your love, and the conflicting hope that he won’t take the advice until a bit later on.  “Come and find me.”

***

Day 5–7:37pm:

After the fireworks are over, people start to drift off in separate directions, clearing the traffic and congestion from the streets around you.  Someone puts their hand on your shoulder and you blink a few times, spinning around and almost stepping on a bunch of tiny little feet by accident.

Stars, that’s a lot of children.  They’re all crowded around Naydee, who pats a few heads and almost buckles under the younglings clinging to her leg.

“Figured you would be long gone by now,” she grins at you from behind her mask, and you’re reminded to pull yours up over your face just from looking at her.  “It’s late—we’re going back to the Keja.”

“Oh, shit,” you breathe in surprise, but the noise of the gradually dispersing crowd manages to cover it up.  At least from younger, more easily distracted ears, but you think Naydee hears you.  Her dark eyes roll good-naturedly, looking happy but exhausted from the long day.  You’re going to have to say goodbye now.

“What happened to your family?”  She asks after a moment, and you think she’s being careful with the way she says it, likely because family is a difficult topic to navigate in general around some of the children hanging on her and begging for her attention.  “Have you been in touch with them?  If not, I’m sure you can come back with us.  It’ll be late by the time we get there, but at least you’ll be safe.”

You open your mouth to automatically decline her offer, knowing Din is still in the crowded city looking for you and wanting to stay where there’s lots of people.

But then… well, he would expect you to do that, wouldn’t he?

There’s more people here.  More danger, but better places to hide.  It’s the obvious choice, it’s the one that makes the most logical sense.  But you’d also be completely alone and you’re assuming the only reason he hasn’t snatched you up yet—which you know he could’ve done multiple times by now, is likely because you’re with a group of innocent foundlings, moody teenagers, and very stern older women.  He probably doesn’t realize you’ve told them about him and the kid, though you were slightly vague on the details.

It’s also a little over three hours to get back, but you’re banking on it being closer to four with how whiney and tired some of the small voices sound, others sounding like they’re an enormous sugar rush contained into a tiny little capsule.  Would he have the gall to try and get you right from under their noses?  Will he even know you left the city, or will he assume you made the smartest decision possible and simply account for it ahead of time?  No, you're overthinking it, just make a decision and stick with it.

“There’s also free food,” Naydee shrugs while you’re still considering, but… well, that settles that.  Almost three days of friendship and she already knows exactly how to win you over in the end.  Sustenance for your empty tummy, an escort the entire way there, and heavily guarded walls beyond.  Din will have to get creative in response—you flaunted your imagination for days, coming up with dozens of evasion tactics to outlast him, but this one just seems… incredibly practical.  Exploiting a weakness of his—isolating it, having it be reinforced by precedent, and then taking advantage of it.  You bet he’ll catch on, but still, it’ll make it more difficult for him, and you’re grasping at straws to hang on just a little longer.

“I…”  Quick, come up with something.  You clear your throat.  “The city is too crowded, I haven’t been able to find them.  I could just… tell them where I’m headed and see if they can find me along the way?”

Naydee smiles and nods.  “Sounds perfect.”

Yet, the entire walk back… you keep thinking you’re going to feel Din trailing behind you, waiting to feel the nerves twist in your tummy and your palms to sweat, but you don’t.  You keep glancing over your shoulder and then down at your wrist, needing to talk yourself out of addressing him through the comm to let him know exactly what the plan is.  You like maintaining a sense of secrecy from the new characters you’ve met on your adventures—Naydee, Karga, Peli—almost everyone you’ve been introduced to, you found a way to find a subtle enjoyment in hiding certain things from them.  But with Din, you don’t have any walls.  They crumbled nearly a full year ago when he silently pushed a cauterizer in your hand and took his armor off for you, and you’ve felt the inexplicable need to bare yourself to him in return ever since.  It would be to your extreme detriment to do it now, but you still have to fight the urge.

Even if you don’t feel him following, you still find yourself acting like he is.  Constantly turning back to double check the road behind you, drifting off in the middle of shallow, distant conversations with tiny foundlings who can’t tell the difference, keeping towards the middle of the pack this time to avoid being picked off towards the back.  The belltower at the orphanage is loud and will ring for quite a distance, so your timing has to be utterly pristine for this to all work out.  You eye your comm the entire way there, trying to stall just the right amount to avoid any realizations or fall into any traps he may be setting for you.

You eventually leave the city walls far behind you, and now you have no clue where he is.  You lost him, and maybe that’s why you feel your heart beat insanely fast the whole time.  He could be anywhere now.  Behind you, adjacent, parallel—you can’t decide where to look, but it keeps you wide awake and focused while the group tiredly travels back to the temple.

***

Day 5–11:32pm:

You can see it in the distance, the brick buildings slowly coming into view.  One might think your stress would have worked itself out by now, been brought back to a manageable level after four hours of walking, but you’ve been on red alert for the past hour or so.  Any movement or rustle that doesn’t come from the sleepy children or exhausted caretakers, you’re on top of it, snapping your attention to the offending tree or animal and not being able to relax even after affirming it’s just nature, it’s not shiny metal bounding after you in the darkness, ready to take you down.

The infants are all likely snoozing away in the nursery, and the Sister who volunteered to stay behind and look after them comes to greet the group at the gate as you approach.  Like always, two Brothers open the iron bars to allow you inside, and you feel the anxiety dig its claws into your tummy.  If Din is going to get you, this is the very last moment to do it.  These walls are guarded and you’re nervous for him, you’re nervous for yourself—you’re just fucking nervous.  Jumpy and worried, not being able to pinpoint him anymore and feeling all the more anxious because of it.

It doesn’t feel right.  Nothing feels right about this, but you can’t figure out specifically what’s wrong.  This was the exact plan, this was a way for you to just survive these last few hours and yet, it doesn’t feel right that you actually succeeded in doing so.  It doesn’t make sense that he’d allow you to return all the way here, especially when he was close enough to touch you earlier.  Din has had so much time to snatch you up, so many opportunities to lure you away, confront you—anything to catch you, and he hasn’t done it yet.  Why?  Either you truly did escape and he has no idea where you are, which doesn’t feel right, or he’s choosing not to get you for whatever reason, which also doesn’t feel right.  What’s he waiting for?  You can’t have won.  It was all too fucking easy, you’re expecting to see him around every single corner because he should be there, he shouldn’t have allowed this to happen.

When someone gently touches your elbow, you’re so on edge that you nearly whip around in surprise.

“Sorry!”  Naydee immediately apologizes, taking her hand back to lift her hood and remove the mask covering her face.  “Didn’t mean to scare you!  I was just going to say that the commissary is still open,” she offers, and you watch the small group of hungry teenagers break off from the group to make their way there.  “It’s going to take awhile to get the children ready for bed, so we’ll be in the dormitories if you need to sleep.  Otherwise, I’m not sure I’ll see you again.”

You stare at her and blink a few times, trying to readjust your focus.  She’s your new friend, she just said this was likely the last time you’ll see each other, but you can’t stop thinking about Din.  Imagine he’s hours away in the city right now, still looking for you.  You’re trying to evaluate your priorities here, but you truthfully never expected to get this far.  Inside the gates, surrounded by brick buildings and silent guards.  You know your way around here, you know hiding spots, you know how to outlast—it’s incredibly advantageous for you to be inside these walls.  What is he doing?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you give Naydee a quick hug and she happily accepts it.  “I’m sure we’ll meet again at some point.”

She smiles and nods, pulling back and letting a couple grumpy foundlings catch her robes and yank on them impatiently.  The loud group eventually disappears into the dorms, and the door shutting behind them cuts off the tired crying and chatty voices determined to stay awake, leaving you in silence that feels slightly unfamiliar after going without it for so long.

Fuck, you just need to breathe.  As soon as the dead quiet grips the air around you, you realize you need to relax.  You’re way too fucking wound up; you want to bolt at the smallest thing and the sudden silence of being alone multiplies it to the point where you have to remind yourself of its importance.  Breathe.  Focus.  There’s about fifteen minutes before the bells ring, fifteen more minutes and the chase will be all over.

Can you eat?  You thought you’d want to, but you think you’re too fucking antsy.  You can’t stay here alone, that’s for sure, but you also don’t want to be around all the children right now.  The commissary will have a handful of people wandering around, teens snacking and maybe a Brother or two standing guard.  It’s the best place to wait the clock out, so you make your way there.  The gentle breeze billows around your loose robes, your pantlegs swishing as you walk.

A few minutes later, you’ve got a plate of food in front of you but your mask is still up, and you’re just sitting there.  Towards the back of the large room, sitting by yourself at one of the tables and staring down at your communicator.  Five minutes.  You have five fucking minutes left before he finds you.  Can you feel him?  Is he closing in?

You sit up a bit straighter, taking a deep breath.  Focus on that feeling from earlier.  The presence in your chest, the weight that didn’t used to be there months ago—focus on that feeling and branch it outwards.  Can you feel him?

Something catches your eye.

Or no… it doesn’t, does it?  Nothing is out of place here, nothing is visibly wrong or amiss.  The only thing that’s changed from all the times before is how dark it is through the windows, and how there are only a few kids in here grabbing a midnight snack instead of being packed like usual.  Nothing else.

But there’s… there’s an acolyte in the far corner, standing guard with his back to the wall.  It’s not his presence that gives you pause—you expected him to be here, there’s always been at least one present whenever you’ve sat down to eat.  He doesn’t look any different from the rest of the Brothers you’ve passed by this evening or the days before—tall, silent, dark brown robes, hooded and mysterious—so why do you suddenly feel yourself break out into a cold sweat as soon as your eyes land on him?

Bubbling laughter and chatter echoes through the large room from one of the tables near the entrance—seven teenagers stuffing their faces with food and sharing animated conversation with each other now that it’s late and they’re alone—but your stomach twists and your fingers start to tremble as you slowly rise from your seat in the back.  You want to keep your head down and be casual but it’s impossible, you desperately need to keep looking at that silent guard in particular and your heart kicks up in your chest—

—and then it wrenches sideways when you’re carefully backing away from the table and the offending acolyte takes a single step forwards.

Run.  Everything in you screams for you to run, and it’s rarely done that before, but you can’t.  Not yet, you don’t want to draw attention, and the logical part of your mind rages against your gut instinct to haul ass.  He’s here—of course he is, the thought screams through your veins as you try to weave quickly in between tables, feeling light on your toes and readying yourself to run as soon as you can.  The dark figure seems to find a careful pace behind you, staying just far enough behind and walking in perfect silence, and you have so many fucking questions but you can’t even think a single thing beyond run away, run away.  Where’s the kid?  How did he get those robes?  Did he actually take his helmet off just to get to you in a room where anyone could confront him?

Your feet propel you forward as soon as you make it out of the door, you break out into a sprint—just flat out bolting because you know how fucking fast he is and you need as big a headstart as you can get.

You race down the stairs and through the courtyard, the beautiful surroundings contrasting drastically with the way you’re running for your fucking life through them.  It’s not beautiful to you right now; you feel clumsy and physically unable to move fast enough no matter how quick you go, your eyes are wide and every nerve is on fire and you can’t even tell if he’s behind you anymore with how silently he moves, but you just trust that he is and keep barreling forward.  Your breath puffs against the clinging fabric of your mask as you keep sprinting, willing your legs to pump faster.  Get to the belltower at least, get to where you have the smallest chance of being caught by the people who guard this place.

As soon as you allow yourself to even conceive the possibility, two Brothers in dark hooded robes suddenly turn the corner a little ways in front of you and your reaction time is perfect—you jerk to a halt and take a single step forward as soon as they spot you.  Since your momentum already committed you to it, you just have to walk, keep your head down, move directly past them and hope Din disappeared from behind you in time.

Step, step, step—keep going, control your breathing, you’re okay, you’re allowed to be up late tonight and they shouldn’t stop you.  Walk right by…  Stars, you feel their silent stares as you casually pass, and it just feels so cold and analytical compared to the kind of danger Din is gives off when dressed in the exact same clothing.  He’s hard and tangible and an unrelenting force, where they just feel like ghosts that haunt this place.  The threat they present is impersonal and detached, but the terror currently chasing after you is so real that he can read your mind.

You wipe the sweat from your brow as soon as you turn the corner, and your feet are already starting to speed up on their own knowing you’re out of their sight.  Run, get to the belltower before Din does, you can see it standing tall about a hundred feet away.  The stairs leading to the door come closer and closer, but you hear something behind you and it propels you faster.  It’s like you can feel him right at your heels even though you haven’t seen him, snapping at your ankles even though your footsteps are the only ones you can hear anymore.

You scramble up the stairs and close the door behind you, spinning around and facing it even as you slowly retreat backwards into the moonlit tower, trying to stay quiet.  Breathing through your nose, eyes shifting around the enclosed space, continuing to back up and away from the door.  Where is he?  There are so many windows that allow you to look outside, but why can’t you spot his movement through them?  Wasn’t he right behind you?

Behind you.

There’s no reason or logic at all to it; you just react.  Spinning around and throwing a mean punch.

Din jerks back just in time to miss it, twisting and dodging at the very last second to avoid your next few hits—but… things seem to slow down, even if they’re happening so fast.  The moonlight cascades through the dozens of windows lining the circular walls and it shines just enough to reveal small glimpses of him.  With every aggressive strike from you, you see something else—you see a flash of his chin when you try to uppercut, you aim for his chest and you see a bit of his jaw.  When you go for his jaw, he steps sideways and catches your wrist, and you see the bend of his nose catch the light this time.

But then it’s like he finally figures out that you’re actually fighting him, and now he’s coming for you.  Trained and ruthless, not weighed down by any armor and lightning quick, launching perfectly aimed attacks that you’re only able to avoid from reaction and muscle memory alone.  You block or move whenever he strikes, you attack whenever you see an opening, you sidestep at the same time he does—

Until you land a spin kick directly to the center of his chest and snap your leg to shove him back, your heel smashing into that soft spot right above his stomach with dead precision and brute force.  He exhales sharply and takes a few more steps back to steady himself while you pause to catch your breath.

Din abruptly comes back and you fall into it with him again, keeping a sharp rhythm with each other that’s faster, harder, and way more real than any sparring match you’ve ever shared.  The hours and days in hyperspace you spent practicing with him are but a fraction of what he’s throwing at you right now, the combinations so rapid and blurred that you just have to trust your knowledge of him and his movement through the dark.

But then, your downfall.  Bells begin ringing an earsplittingly familiar melody above you, and it shatters your concentration—you falter just as he grabs you and sweeps your feet out, and though you know how to get out of that, you’re not quick enough on the jump nor counterswing to prevent it.  He takes you to the ground, hard, and then your wrists are being pinned together above your head and your mask is being tugged down.

Din’s mouth on yours makes you want to cry.

The whole thing is like coming home.  You spent a week surrounded by strangers and having them call you by a name not given to you, fending for yourself, and now here he is.  Someone who knows who you really are, someone that wants to care for you.  Tears come to your eyes even as they're pressed tightly shut, and Din kisses you like he’s never known anything else.  His mouth fits to yours as if the Maker made your lips before ever considering the rest of you, his bare hand clutching your jaw and forcing you to open for him, letting him lick deep inside after going so many days without it.  It might feel dominant and overwhelming if it happened to any other person, but through it, you can also taste his desperation and weakness, how soft he is even when he’s squeezing your jaw and squishing your wrists together too tightly.

Rigid steel that bends only for your touch.

He pulls back and your heart throbs at how moonlight continues to bathe just the smallest glimpses of him under the hood—never the full thing, never the whole face, but enough.  The quiet light that brushes the arch of his nose, how it bathes the hard line of his jaw so that you can barely see his scruff when he turns his head the right way.  His eyes are hidden in near darkness but there’s the faintest glimmer where they should be, and it’s the closest you’ve ever been to looking at him without the helmet.  You can see him, you can see shadows of his chin, his neck—dear stars, his fucking neck.  You’re pinned and paralyzed under him and the ringing bells, yet you feel like you just might float if he wasn’t holding you so tight to the floor.

“Where’s the baby?”  You finally lift your chin and ask, needing to raise your voice over the melody clanging loud throughout the tower.

“Making friends,” Din pants back down at you, and… stars, then you just start giggling.  Adrenaline turning into pure joy, imagining the kid wreaking havoc with all the other babies in the nursery right now.  It feels more light and airy than anything your body should know.

“What are you so happy about?” He asks, swallowing and then continuing on with the same quick gasps.  “You lost, I caught you in time.”

“Did you?”  You drop your head to the brick floor and ask, biting your lip as he stares back down at you.  Suddenly—

—Bong—

Din holds utterly still over you while you take a quick breath and wait for the next eleven bells… 

…but then break into a slow grin up at him when nothing but utter silence follows.

There’s a moment.  Just a single moment where the cogs turn rapidly under that shadowy hood, one where the faint reflection of light in his eyes flickers down to the communicator on your wrist that says midnight and back to you, one that solidifies the longer it takes for another bell to ring.  It’s not going to.

One o’clock.

You think he puts it together.  The one moment he was never able to figure you out—when you tried reprogramming the comms just a few days ago.  The one trick up your sleeve that you resigned to throw away and almost forget about because the circumstances for pulling it off were never realistic.  Fuck with the electronics and set the clock back just one hour—all you’d need to do is reset his communicator, the timecode is synced together.  He told you before that it’s connected to his helmet, but all the buttons still work.  Rapid, panicky thinking and a wild surge of bravery in the face of certain downfall is the only reason you were able to pull it off, and you’re perfectly willing to admit you just got lucky… especially when he’s still holding dead still over you.

But then Din moves so suddenly.  You can’t account for it because there’s no build-up whatsoever—it’s so fast, you yelp while he grabs your knees and throws them both to one side.  You flop over sideways and large hands reach up under the draping length of your tunic to yank your pants down over the curve of your ass, before he’s fitting his palm up between your legs and pushing two thick fingers inside you.

Your head thunks back against brick with how unexpected and merciless it is, but his other hand is grabbing your jaw and twisting, forcing you to look up, stare right into the dark shadow under the loose cowl.  The whole thing is too overwhelming—you’re trying to keep quiet but your breathing feels like thunder crashing inside this tall, echoing chamber.  He’s touched you so many times, he knows exactly how to do it by now, but it feels like so much more than that.  Probably because you can see the way Din’s mouth silently falls open as he feels you, stretching his fingers up and hooking them tight inside.  You can tell when he closes his eyes, the smallest glint slowly disappearing into nothingness while the hand around your jaw blindly moves up.  It catches your chin and lips, and then two fingers push over the bottom edge of your teeth to slip into your mouth.

Your entire leg twitches and jerks while you lay sideways on the ground and open up for him, your neck twisted at a sharp angle to keep your eyes on him and his fingers in your mouth, giving you something to bite to stop making noise.  Din makes room for himself inside you two different ways, and you just choke on his fingers and try to stay quiet, praying he’ll go deeper.

But then you’re not expecting his whole fucking arm to start moving the way it does—oh fuck, what is that?  First you just feel jostled and displaced, but then suddenly a wicked, deep, burning pleasure starts to roar through you, radiating outwards from the rapid motion of just two fingers inside you.  It’s not in and out, it’s up and down so hard and quick against your g-spot that your eyes cross and your hands go numb.

You think you grab at him, clutch onto his arm or chest and open your mouth to moan at the new and overwhelming sensation, but his hand pushes up against your chin and closes it for you, the bend of his fingers caught hard between your teeth but you don’t think he cares.

“Quiet,” Din hisses the word down at you while his arm continues to work, your toes starting to curl as the feeling overwhelms you.  Fuck, what is happening, what is happening?  It’s like he’s just shoving unfamiliar sensation at you so forcefully that you can’t even think straight anymore, not even ten seconds in.  You can only feel the pleasure, fire blurring hot and shapeless through your entire body as your eyes clamp shut, his fingers isolating that perfect spot and stimulating it directly, relentlessly.

Something dull and white hot presses up tight against all the muscles you have down there and you’re almost afraid of how strong it is.  You gasp and choke and he has to take his fingers out of your mouth and just clamp down around your entire jaw, sealing the whole thing shut with his large hand.  And then Din’s fingers leave your pussy too—and stars, you should be embarrassed by how desperately it clamps around nothing for as long as it does.  He’s not even inside you anymore but your body is on such a delay from the hot, twisting pleasure, and he doesn’t put them back in until your muscles are finished spasming.

Everything comes back full force as soon as he starts moving again.  Noise starts to come from your throat, humming in your vocal cords to deal with the arcing, swirling build, and so Din just moves his hand there instead.  He finds where it’s vibrating from your neck and he pushes up against it, trapping the sound right at the source.  He’s fucking perfect at it for some reason… how many times must he have done this to know how to cut noise out without stopping airflow?  You clutch at his wrist and silently mouth his name, feeling his arm work between your legs—faster, faster, harder, pushing you higher, higher—

Din pulls his fingers out again and this time, one of your thighs suddenly feels warm and wet while you spasm and you hear him growl out a ragged, “Fuck yes.”  Everything is sparks zapping through you long after his touch is gone, you cry out but it’s all trapped under Din’s expert grip.  His fingers soon push back inside you and you dig your nails into his forearm, your sounds muffled and quiet enough to hear his raspy groan.  

“Let me see it again,” Din breathes, his arm starting to work up and down once more, and you don’t even know what he’s talking about anymore.  What does he want to see?  You losing your mind again?  Being reduced to an utter mess in front of his shadowy but unobstructed gaze just because you managed to pull one over on him?

Fucking… apparently.  It’s what happens, after all.  You’ve never seen him like this before; whenever he’s worked up and taking it out on you, there was always something in it for him, too.  He’d hammer into you and rock your world until his eventually shattered, and then you’d both lay exhausted afterwards, equally affected and satisfied.  This isn’t like that—this is just cruel, targeted retribution on his behalf, coaxing the molten pleasure out of you with his fingers and keeping his other hand locked around your throat.  You blink helplessly up at him, your vision starting to blur by the time he leans down to whisper to you.

“I missed you, sweet girl.  Did you miss me?”  It’s so soft and quiet compared to the strength and relentlessness of his movements.  You can’t speak even if you wanted to, but when he finally pulls away to yank his hand out and you feel all your muscles automatically flex outwards and push against the sudden emptiness inside you, his voice groans long and satisfied while your thighs get wet again  “Yeah you did,” he breathes, pushing your shaky legs to the brick with his hand and watching you struggle through the aftershocks.

Did you just cum?  You don’t even know, that’s how fucked up you are right now.  The whole thing felt like an orgasm from the very beginning, just a boiling hot tornado ripping through every single cell in your body, never really having a peak.  If you didn’t cum, then why do you feel so weak?  You feel heavy, your limbs don’t work properly, and you barely even register Din pulling at the fabric of his own robes until he fits himself up against your entrance.

When you do realize it, though… your body burns with it, wrecked already but wanting him to take what he wants from you.

“Oh, plea—” you gasp but you don’t even have enough time to get the full sentence out.  He’s already pushing his hips forward, pressing you tight into the ground and opening you up after what feels like a fucking eternity without him.  It’s the hottest, slickest welcome you could give him, you hear it in the whispered curse his lips brush up under your ear, the wet noises your body makes that get louder the longer you hold the moan in your throat and bury your head into his shoulder.  He throbs thick and perfect inside your tight, spasming cunt, stretching you and smacking the rough ground near your head with how fucking good it is to be back, finally, finally—

Your hands grab uselessly at his chest while you try to acclimate, try to breathe while you’re blind with sensation.  It’s so fitting for him, isn’t it?  That your reunion should be just as physically debilitating as it is mentally.  Din’s voice scrapes on a groan like he’s dragging it across the brick ground as quiet as he can, catching when you clamp down on him and shuddering when you clamp down harder.  That’s just it—you don’t ever loosen, you just keep tightening and tightening around him, threatening to break and cum again.

This feels different from before, though.  It’s deep, purposefully so.  His hand reaches up to push the fabric of your hood back, lifting himself up over your body and wanting to start as deep as he can.  You feel him in a place you’d never be able to reach and that’s just the beginning—that’s before he starts thrusting into you, hitting a dull sensation at the apex of each movement so hard that it becomes sharp.  His hips don’t make practically any sound smacking into you because they don’t really smack, they just rock downwards and fuck you into the floor without needing to pull out really at all.  You know he’s just trying to keep it as quiet as possible, but what he lacks in speed and agility he makes up in power.

You don’t even realize you’re making too much noise until a palm wraps tight around your mouth and the room gets a little emptier.  Din keeps you all to himself on the floor, silencing as much as he’s working you up, smothering as much as he’s freeing you.  There’s no easing up, no dragging it out, no gradual build or climb—it’s just there all of a sudden, pleasure and pain pummeling you all at once, engulfing you in flames.

You reach up to grab at the loose fabric of the hood over his face, catching a fistful of it before his hand suddenly snatches your shaky wrist and pins it back to the ground.

Maker, you forgot—oh, you completely forgot about how many people could find you right now if they ever decided to look in the right place.  You’re not in hyperspace; your body is rocking against rough brick, you’re probably going to have a lump on the back of your head from how terrible you are at trying to map out heaven while holding still.  He’s pinned down what he can with one hand; your fingers are the only things that can move besides how tight you can curl your toes, but you feel your moans turn into words against his palm.  They garble indistinctly and you’re not really even sure what you’re saying, but Din decides it’s worth hearing.

“Shh,” he whispers, slowly lifting his hand from your mouth.  “Shh, tell me—”

“W-wanna look,” you hear yourself whimper, trying your best to keep quiet but wanting to scream it while he fucks you hard and slow on the ground, “—I wanna see, I wanna look at you—”

“Fuck,” Din gasps, and though his grip tightens on your wrist and you know he can’t do it right this second, the words seem like they shatter something inside him, “Keep—oh fuck, please, k-keep saying…”

“I want to marry you,” you nearly whine for him, feeling his hips kick up rapidly and start hammering in and out, in and out, in and—“I want to see your face, I wanna be yours, I don’t want anyone else to know you the way I-I—”

You think he drops his head into your neck to muffle his own sounds.  Though they start out rough and quiet and indiscernible, but they gradually become louder as he repeats himself over and over again, growling and fucking you rough.  You only catch it on the peak, when he pulls his mouth away from your skin and gasps them raggedly one last time.

“—ve you—I l-love y—”

He kisses you to stop himself.  But it’s not really a kiss, it’s more desperate than that.  Though it’s beautiful, it’s beautiful in a different light.  It’s not rejoicing at having you back with him once again; it’s a last prayer begging you to stay by his side forever.  He loves you.  He gives it everything—it feels even more concrete and simple than taking the hood off him and revealing his face would.  You told you that you'd know him without ever seeing him, and you did.  You picked him out and found him when absolutely nothing was giving him away, and this feels like a manifestation of that.  Even if you’re not in a place where he can show you his face, his beautiful brown eyes, something still feels like it changes.  He loves you.  You gasp into his mouth and his tongue sinks deep into yours, tenacious and brave and unyielding.  

When you finally cum, you almost bite him on accident.  

Everything surges hot and molten while he pulls back and keeps fucking you through it, and you can’t tell where you’re touching him anymore, just that his skin is blazing hot under your hand and he feels like everything the armor isn’t.  He loves you.  You’re looking into his eyes right now.  You can’t see any of the details, not really, but the moonlight flickers like silent stars moving through dark depths, staring right back at you and giving you an anchor for the euphoria rocketing through you.  He loves you.  Your nails dig in sharp and slowly drag downwards, scratching hard red lines into whatever thick muscle that is—

The back of his neck, making his hips stutter and when he cums for you, he does bite.

You lift your head just in time to feel his teeth catch your chin instead of your mouth, and his entire body shakes while you keep dragging your nails down the side of his neck and his throat.  Din fucking lives for it, he releases you and arches into the pain and owns your marks like he wishes you made them deeper, stretching his neck and lifting his chin into the moonlight and—

Maker.  You can see it, with direct light, you can see more of it than ever before.  You can see his soft lips and white teeth gritting the sound of your name as quietly as he can, the dark facial hair dusting across the lower half of his face.  A fucking gorgeous jawline and throat extended long over you, flexing hard with his cock pulsing inside you.  You can just barely see the bottom of his nose from under the brown hood, the dark curls brushing up under his ears.

Stars, you still never see his eyes, the fabric of his hood acts like a blindfold draped over them, but you think you cum again.  Even if it’s on accident, it’s mean—Din tries to keep from squishing you and his hand pushes down hard against your lower tummy while he shoves his hips deep one last time, and you cum while staring at half of his face in the moonlight.  Completely lovestruck.

How can he be this beautiful when you’ve only seen fractions of him?  You have everything but the eyes now, everything but the most mysterious thing about him, the reflection into his deepest self, but you feel like you’re hypnotized by every single feature you do see.  His tongue coming out to wet his lips, the vein pulling under his sharp jaw—he’s gorgeous, he’s gorgeous, and your body agrees.  It shakes and shudders under him and eventually, Din finishes and you keep looking as his chin slowly lowers, face disappearing into the shadow once more.

Stars.  He’s so handsome and no one has ever told him, fucking dreamy and the biggest grump you’ve ever met.  Without being able to see him, you already want to reach your hands out and touch him, drag your nails through his scruff and force him to extend outwards into the moonlight again for you.  Whenever he does end up showing you his face, you know right fucking now that you’ll never be able to look away.  For the rest of your life, you’ll be staring at him, apologizing blankly for your rudeness but not feeling sorry at all.

Din leans down and gives you a slow, gentle kiss, finally relaxing into a slouch and breathing hard with the effort it took to shatter you with pleasure.

“The kid is with the other foundlings,” he whispers against your lips.  “You… you’ll have to go get him, I need to grab my armor.”

You squeeze around his cock, pulling at the fabric of his robes and ignoring him for just a second.  He fucked you in robes belonging to one of the guards and nobody has mentioned it, you need to say something.  “Where did you get this?”

“I found it,” he tells you after a moment, kissing up under your jaw.  Oh fucking Maker, he feels so good and perfect inside you, shoulders so broad and crowding you on the floor, and his lips are plush and hot, brushing and fitting your skin like it’s just an extension of his own.  “Some guy was wearing it.”

It takes you a second.

“Mando,” you suddenly gasp in quiet horror, pushing at his chest and trying your best to detach his mouth from your throat.  It’s so much more difficult than it needs to be, but you eventually succeed.  “What did you do to him?  Where is he?”

He lifts his neck up just the tiniest bit, turning his face towards yours under the hood and holding still for way too fucking long.  He’s too close to see the expression he’s making, but you know the tone of his silence.  He’s in trouble and he knows it before you do.

“Ma—”

“They’re in a closet,” he admits at the very same time, completely monotone.

You don’t know which word to emphasize.  A fucking closet?  They’re?  Plural?  Instead of stressing any particular word, you decide not to do it at all and it ends up just coming out in the same exact blank tone as him.  “They're in a closet.”

“Inside the Temple,” Din continues on when you lay still as a statue underneath him.  His head slowly dips down once more, pushing his hips against you just the slightest bit to make you remember the cock still inside you instead.  Your eyelashes flutter with it—fuck, focus—“I didn’t know there’d be more than two.”  He kisses your neck so gently.  “It was an accident.”

You don’t say anything at all, your mouth pinching down at the corners because it should but your heartbeat galloping with how… fucking sexy he is.  You shouldn’t encourage this, this horrible behavior just to get close enough to catch you, but your curiosity overtakes you and you ask a question you’ve asked yourself before.  “Did they put up a fight?”

“Mm,” he whispers noncommittally, rocking his hips down once more.  “You did.”  Your nails dig into his chest, making him falter just slightly before slowly kissing your neck again.  “Did so good.  Fought hard, outsmarted me.  Pretty fucking girl.”

And then your eyes pop open as you feel it.  His cock suddenly beginning to harden once again inside you, twitching and gradually gaining a thicker shape, and for a moment, you actually fucking consider it.  He’s the only one in this galaxy that could not only ruin you on these sacred grounds, but then coax you into doing it more than once—stars, are you actually considering it?

“We can’t,” you automatically tell him, but it’s fucking pitiful.  Zero effort, absolutely no umph behind it, leaving it entirely up to him and how much he wants it.  Your logic reminds you that the kid is probably wreaking havoc in the nursery and there are tied up guards in the fucking temple that could be discovered any second.  You shouldn’t have even let him fuck you here in the first place, but…  “Mando, we can’t—”

His mouth opens against the crook of your neck and his tongue brushes velvet hot on your skin, tasting the glistening sweat there and not moving his broad figure a single inch over you besides getting closer, deeper.  Your nails dig into his collarbone, aiming for reason one last time.  It’s apparent that you’d be better off rephrasing, knowing the challenging streak in him and how much telling him what to do doesn't help.

“It’s not a good idea,” you attempt instead, breathless and trying not to move under his mouth and lazy hips.  “Not smart.  Bad idea to fuck again.”

Din’s body stops moving, even though he keeps getting harder.  His jaw opens and then his teeth scrape softly against your flesh, making you tilt your neck back and gasp.

“Later,” he lifts his head to state aloud, committing it to truth now that it’s been spoken and heard by another person.  “Later, I’ll fuck you on the ship, in our bed, when I can get you naked and have your taste in my mouth.”

Tingles rock through your body and you squeeze around his cock just as he pulls it out and tucks it back into his pants.  Your lungs quiver when you inhale—it’s shaky, but it reminds you of how long it’s been since you’ve been able to breathe correctly.

“Later,” you finally agree, combing your fingers through your hair and glad you have this hood to cover your freshly fucked dishevelment.  He came inside you and you don’t want to be leaking and getting your nice pretty robes all wet and stained, but then of course, without any prompting, Din quickly scoots back on his knees and drops his head down to take care of it for you.

***

Commotion.

After Din helped you clean up the way he sometimes likes and then disappeared to change back into his armor, you put your mask and hood back on and tried to look as casual as possible walking to the nursery.  Your knees wobbled slightly and you couldn’t stop smiling under the mask the entire walk there, but when you arrived, you just saw a dim room with sleeping infants—not what you were expecting.  Soon, however, you hear it: down the hall, distant and coming from the dormitories, you hear a loud commotion.

Fuck, you’re nearly wincing with every step you take now, and not because you’re sore.  Well, you… are, a little bit, but in a great way.  No, you’re just dreading the ridiculous shinanigans you already know are well underway, wondering if Din actually dropped the kid off in the dorms from the beginning or if he somehow migrated his way there to cause trouble.

When you walk inside, the first thing you see is a handful of crying and shouting toddlers, and while you can’t immediately spot your favorite floppy-eared monster, you don’t have to see him to know he’s probably standing tiny directly in the middle of this tense showdown.  Automatically, you’re taking a few steps forward to rescue him, but then you stop as soon as you see what the other babies are so mad about.  A large piece of chocolate leftover from the festival levitating just beyond their pitiful little reaches.

Hm.  Who could possibly be responsible for using demon powers to steal snacks and hold them hostage from a sizeable group of hostile children.  A mystery that may never be solved.

It makes you take a second.  The sheer… the… stars, you can’t even think straight—how fucking typical it is just hits you right in the chest, sends your heart into orbit.  Of course.  Of course this is what he’s gotten himself into without immediate supervision, of course this is the shipwreck you’d walk into, and you’re holding back a chuckle before making a single move to intervene.  In the midst of everything, you can hear adults approaching distantly from behind you.

“—don’t know where it came from, I was helping the younglings into bed when I heard the ruckus and I—”

The voices gradually grow louder, and you snatch the floating piece of candy out of thin air and whip around right before Sister Drya and Naydee walk in.  Their hushed, concerned conversation is cut to an abrupt end, and you clear your throat as they take you in, standing in front of chaos central continuing to go off behind you.  Do you… look as freshly disheveled as you are?  You’re not supposed to be here, you know, but hopefully the only strange thing is your presence itself and not anything concerning your appearance.

“Nerida,” the older lady suddenly announces, the name alone holding so much expectation, and the younglings missing their candy have now turned their ire towards you and the crinkly food wrapper hidden in your fist.  “What is the meaning of this?”

“Ah, yeah,” you stand up a little straighter, letting the chocolate casually fall out of your grip behind you, and a stampede of feet suddenly kick up to recover it.  It’s fine, nobody will know, it’s fine.  “It’s just…”  Your head tips behind you to the cause of the uproar, feeling a bit sheepish yet so incredibly fond.  “My… kid.”

Sister Drya stares at you for a few seconds, before tipping sideways and staring at the culprit.  “That is your child?”

You turn around just in time to see him, now abandoned by the angry mob of children, finally notice you.  All of a sudden, his pitch black eyes light up something bright and sunshiney, and you just start beaming in return.  What an adorable little creature, apple of your eye and pain of your ass.

“Yep,” you sigh, dropping into a squat and watching him barrel towards you, catching him right before he can trip over his brown potato sack and scooping him up into your arms.  “Hiya, bug,” you murmur with a grin, lifting back up and plopping him in his favorite spot in the universe—your left hip.  “You making friends?”

He giggles and it’s like sparkles and bubbles fill the room instead, wrapping tiny arms around the largest surface area he can get and clinging.  He laughs with a tiny open mouth, bless him, clearly not understanding the sarcasm, and suddenly your eyes feel just the slightest bit wet.  No, you’re not crying, don’t be fucking ridiculous, but you missed him like hell and he’s just the cutest fucking thing—why do you feel like crying?

“Sorry about that,” you apologize to the two women while slowly turning around, brushing your thumb over one of his cheeks and smiling as it squishes.  “He’s… uh.  Not great at sharing.  We’ll work on it.”

Takes after his dad, you purposefully leave out, just a different kind of sharing.  Din hasn’t shown you his full face yet and the kid performs magic tricks to taunt a roomful of children a fraction of his age for a single piece of chocolate, completely different kind of sharing.

Sister Drya says something in response, but when you look up to address her, all you see is Din standing silently behind her and Naydee, slowly dropping his hand from his helmet to his side.  They don’t seem to notice he’s there and you automatically try your best to pay attention to the Sister speaking to you, but your eyes get caught on the silver reflecting in the dim light beyond.  Fuck, he’s a presence.  An immediate distraction, taking all your focus with a single glimpse.  Seeing him fully armored again, staring at you from the silent shadows behind everything… you melt a little bit, knowing that you’ve seen more of what’s underneath than anyone.  Your shoulders settle and your entire body burns warm, wobbly like the air around a fire, and one of the kid’s hands leaves you to reach out towards his dad.

You watch the metallic helmet tilt sideways after a moment, saying everything without saying anything.  Come on, make up an excuse, let’s get out of here.

Looking at him in the quiet shadows, you’re reminded once again about how much you love him, how much softness you have inside you for a man so hard, so guarded.  And, for the first time, a voice in your head finishes a poem you didn’t realize you were writing, adding its own verse and bringing everything back around to the beginning.  He loves you, too.  How much he lets his guard down for you, the way he’s revealed more of his face to you than not.  You love each other.  You’re family.

So, all at once, you decide to mess with him, because that’s what family does best.

“Don’t be shy, come say hello,” you suddenly urge his silent figure, taking a step forward and speaking directly to him.  “Sister Drya, Naydee, I’d like to introduce you to my—”

It’s remarkable, you see it happen in front of you.  Like he has powers of his own, Din just literally fucking disappears.  Like magic, he’s nowhere to be found within a blink of an eye.  You know he’s capable of it; he’s done it plenty of times during the chase just to fuck with your head, but you’re staring straight at him when it happens this time and it might just be the funniest fucking thing you’ve ever seen him do.

Sister Drya and Naydee both turn around to an empty hallway bathed in shadows and you laugh.  A deep, shameless, loud belly laugh.  Where the fuck did he go so quick?  You were staring straight at him and you have no fucking clue.  He’s just out, and you’re left alone with his child and the unspoken understanding that he’ll just catch up with you later.

You’re giggling even as you shake your head and give the women your genuine thanks for keeping you and feeding you these past few days, grabbing your backpack with all your belongings and eventually using three green fingers to wave goodbye to them.  The very first thing Din says when he seamlessly joins you outside the Keja later is, “That wasn’t funny,” which just makes you laugh harder.

***

About a half hour has passed, and you’re walking along a dirt road, cradling a very happy baby in your arms and giving the grown man next to you an incredibly hard time.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, your back twinging slightly at the way you’re leaning about as sideways as you can get without falling over.  You think you’re basically just the hypotenuse between the ground and Din, who easily supports almost your entire weight with your backpack slung around his far shoulder and readily allows you to rest against him.

“They’re fine,” he grumbles in response, squeezing you tight to his side.  You just have to focus on moving your feet; it’s like he’s practically carrying your upper-half anyways.  “I gave them the night off.”

“You stuffed them in a closet,” you hiss, feeling his shoulder shrug under your cheek.

“I gave them the robe back,” he says, not really defending himself and more just throwing it out there to see if it helps any.  “I’m sure someone’s found them by now, they’re fine.”

Your eyes suddenly go wide, absolutely mortified at the thought.  “Wait.  What do you mean you gave the robe back?”

He shrugs once more, apparently not seeing the problem yet.  “I borrowed it, so I gave it back after I put my armor back on.”

If you could plant your feet on the dirt road and screech to a halt, you would, but all your weight is already resting on him and you’re working solely off his forward movement.  You just hope your tone holds the same amount of shocked disapproval your body language would’ve conveyed if you weren’t so completely attached to his hip like a parasite he adores.

“You fucked me wearing it, though.”  Your voice is strangely flat, so fucking confused and horrified by the mental image of him just tossing the soiled garments haphazardly somewhere in the temple behind you, or even worse, leaving them somewhere respectful, and Din soon stops in the middle of the deserted road.

“Oh,” is all he says, emotionless and blank through the modulator.  Did he not even consider this?

“I had to promise them I was a virgin just to sleep there, you know,” you admit, and you can tell that’s brand new information to him with how still he goes as you continue to lean against him.  You’re getting the feeling that he probably knows a lot more about your experiences on this moon than you think he does, but can tell that this is brand new information to him.  “And you locked three of their holy men in a closet, chased me across the temple grounds, fucked me in one of their robes, and then.  You gave it.  Back.”

Din stays perfectly silent for quite some time.  You can never go back to that place, you know this for a fact.  You’re banned forever now, it’s what you deserve.

Never one to be outdone but not actually having anything to say for himself, Din suddenly decides to just scoop you into his arms and boost up into the sky without a single word like an actual fucking maniac.

You squeal and damn near drop the baby because of it, but he cinches you tight to his chest and refuses to loosen with your struggle.  Eventually, after you realize he’s completely locked you in and you won’t fall to your death with this poor innocent child in your arms, you glance over the shiny pauldron on his shoulder and watch the kid’s crib disappear by the abandoned road as Din takes you higher and higher.

The crib—he forgot the crib—

“D-Din,” you stammer out through the whistling air, stiff as a board.  Stars, you have such a different sense of adventure than him; an explorer and a daredevil, one who gets a thrill from discovering the existence of the edge of a cliff and one who’ll take a running dive off of it without thinking twice.  He’s hit with blaster fire some days, he faces down death completely fearless like it owes him one every single time, and you’re stiff as a fucking board while he carries you through the sky.  It’s stunning up here, it’s exciting and wonderful, but you’re so scared that you can barely even look.  He’s giving you the most fantastical view, everything your budding adventurous streak could ever ask for, and your terror is crushing.  It would be different if you could hold on, but you’re responsible for not letting the baby slip through your arms and you just have to trust that he won’t let you slip through his.

You raise your voice.  “Din?!”

“I won’t drop you,” he automatically reassures, and well you sure as fuck hope not, but there’s something else.

“What about the crib?”  You call out over the wind whipping, tucking the baby tight to your chest and settling your hands over his ears to avoid them flapping and whacking you repeatedly in the chin.

“We’ll come back for it,” he responds, just as easily.  Maker, you wish decision-making came that easy to you, that commitment and choice should be so simple as to just fly away from things on the ground and promise out loud to come back for them.  You know he will, but still, his spontaneity shocks you after spending the past week thinking every decision through meticulously, and you’re taken aback by the casualness of it all while soaring through the sky, committing such spectacular feats without a single thought beyond it.

Soon—incredibly soon, which honestly kind of blows your mind—you spot Nariss glowing in the distance and then you’re flying overtop of the city, slowly dropping altitude in the middle of a quiet little side street.

Din carefully allows your feet to settle on the ground before letting go, but you still stumble a bit stupidly after flying so high without any sort of safety measure besides him, prioritizing the steadiness of the baby in your arms instead of your feet underneath you.  His gloves catch at your clumsy body and pull you along with him without another word, leading you out of the quiet alley and into the middle of a beautiful, luminescent street.

What’s he doing?  He seems slightly hurried, and you’re clueless but you go with it, clamoring along behind him to wherever he’s leading you.

Though, you suddenly remember one of the very last things you told him last night right before he steps up in front of a vendor.

“Caf,” Din grunts, sliding a few credits towards the man standing behind the counter. “The… biggest one you have.”

Okay, well.  You could just about fucking cry.

“Y’sure?” The vendor asks skeptically, jerking his head at the large thermos behind him.  He’s balding, wearing a white outfit with his eyes scrunched up and forehead sweaty, likely working all day.  “It ain’t fresh.  Closin’ up soon, was just about to trash it and go home.”

The helmet turns to gauge your response to the news, the sharp angles and contours looking so sleek and dangerous as they reflect the colorful lamplights, but just filling you with comfort beyond anything in the entire galaxy.  He’ll take that armor off for you tonight and you’ll sleep next to him.  He’ll call you by your given name, or the fond name he’s given you, and you’ll cuddle your baby on a metal floor in hyperspace with him, and all will be well.  Even if he needs to leave again soon—even if you don’t get to go with him, you’ll always have these small eternities with each other, and that’s more enough for you now.

You’re completely zoned out while staring at him, and Din turns back to the vendor before you can even remember the conflict he was attempting to defer to you.

“Yeah, just empty the whole thing in there for her,” he mutters, and you want to marry him.  It’s been a long week, and in your haze and delight of being with him in this gorgeous setting, your brain turns to cavewoman mush.  Big man, makes me happy.  Strong man, loves me, knows me.  Provider, makes me feel good, protector, loves me.

Din hands you the large cup of steaming caffeine, clueless to your grunted inner monologue but knowing better than to reach out and grab the kid from your other arm.  You’re just fine like this, hands full, the little frog snuggled up against your side and blinking up at your face instead of any of the shiny or glowing things around you.  When you look down at him, you can see the world through his eyes—quite literally, they’re reflective and gigantic—and his father’s hand quickly finds its preferred spot on your lower back.

“Try to drink it quick,” Din advises you gruffly, pulling you snug into his side and sloshing the big cupful of piping hot liquid in your hand.

“It’s a thousand degrees,” you protest, trying to balance your three favorite things in the universe all begging for your direct attention at once.  “It has to cool down.”

He gives a dismissive hm in response, and you frown even as your heart soars with how tightly he’s gripping you, how little leeway you have to even move without him.  Part of you is so thrilled at being reunited with him that you consider snarking something back at him, excitement making you brave.  He could probably chug boiling hot liquid in thirty seconds and doesn’t see the point in letting it sit any longer, and you could make some stupid joke about filtering it through his helmet or having a built in bendy straw but you decide to keep it to yourself.

So then you just stand there together, under stringed lights and flowers everywhere, and he waits.  Holding you glued to his side, completely silent and clearly just waiting for your caf to stop steaming so threateningly in your hand so you can drink it.  For some reason, the fact that he’s wanted by the New Republic doesn’t really register at this second—you’re not looking for cops, though he may be.  You’re just lost in this beautiful, fancy city that’s on the edge of finally quieting down after a long day, and you’d like to see more of it with him next to you.

“Well, do you wanna just…”  You ask, tilting your head around at all the vendors.  “Shop around for a bit?”

“Shop… around,” Din repeats slowly, sounding the words out like they’re not common Basic.  Admittedly, they do sit a bit awkward in his voice when put together like that, describing a phenomena he’s likely never even considered a thing before, but it’s so fucking pretty here and you’d like to show him something this time instead of the other way around.

“Yeah, like,” you shrug a shoulder, tipping your head in a random direction.  Anywhere, you’ll go literally anywhere with him, the three of you can go explore.  “Just wander around, and look at all the pretty things.”

From where you’re standing right now, you can already see glittering crystals and jewels being sold at the tent across the street, there’s a booth dedicated entirely to floral arrangements and crowns next to it, you can hear a distant quartet playing melodically in the distance and a couple is being painted by an artist on the corner.  Bars are in full swing at this point, as if they weren’t all day, and even though the merchandise is all different, the multicolored tents look slightly similar when they’re underlit with multicolored lights.  It’s less slightly lively than it was in the daytime, but also… more beautiful, in a sense.  Muted, softer, more romantic.

“I don’t have any more credits,” Din admits casually, finally turning to look around at everything.  You get the feeling that he’s just now seeing it, even after spending the entire day here.  “That stale caf was the last of it.”

Money well fucking spent, you can assure him of that.

“It’s okay,” you tell him automatically, gently bumping your hip into his.  “We don’t need credits, we can just look.”

So that’s what you do.  Even though it’s completely not his fucking style, for the next hour or so, you just walk around downtown with him and sip your caf, looking at anything and everything new and experiencing it with him.  At first, you think he’s just entertaining you, following you while you discover new streets and attractions, but then he points out different things and you know he's looking, too.  There are large animals harnessed up and pulling carts for people to ride, there's an enormous spinning wheel set up in the distance, its colorful lights flickering out as soon as you ask what the fuck that is and why anyone would ever get inside one.

You eventually end up finishing your caf around the time he’s leading you back through a quiet, abandoned alleyway, and you hand him the empty cup to throw away in one of the trash cans on the corner.  The conversation has faded to a comfortable quiet and you don’t really need to ask—you go willingly, not requiring anything beyond his hands on you and the baby dozing in your arms.

“Come on, sweet girl,” he murmurs, gently sweeping you up into his.  You sigh, glad he’s giving you a moment to prepare yourself this time, holding the sleeping kid securely to your chest and resting your head on his shoulder.  “Let’s go home.”

After you’re comfortable, Din rockets up from the ground and climbs high up into the canvas sky.  He disappears with you and the baby into the pastel clouds above, making it back to the Razor Crest in probably about an hour, maybe less.  You and the baby do nothing more than climb into the comfy floor blankets while Din starts up the engines, and you think you’re dozing off together by the time he makes the pit stop to collect the crib and the jump into hyperspace.

You think he might shower?  You’re not sure—you just know he moves up behind you in bed at one point without any armor, burying his face in your hair while you cuddle the sleepy kid to your chest.  It’s dark in the hull, Din’s palms are bare and warm as they slide around the front of your body and he breathes you in, and there isn’t a single place that can touch you here, not a single place you’d rather be.

Home.

***

@followwhereshegoes​ Thank you for the stunning artwork! 💕To anyone interested in possibly doing an art collab in the future, please message me!!

[choerrypuffs]

my best friend wants to be abducted by aliens.

pairing: son of athena!renjun x daughter of aphrodite!reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 14.6k (this was supposed to be 5k 😌)

author’s note: hi so here is renjun’s chapter to my 00 line x camp half-blood series (i’m sorry, i know it took forever)! thank you so much for all of the support, and i hope you enjoy 💞

warning: one (1) makeout session

You are currently crouched behind a cluster of bushes, trying to get a glimpse of your targets through binoculars. 

Does that sound stalkerish? Perhaps. 

Are you actually a stalker? Debatable. 

However, no matter how suspicious it looks, your motive is pure—for the most part. 

You’re spying on Kang Daniel (son of Hermes) and Park Jihyo (daughter of Apollo), both of whom are at the Archery Range. Jihyo is showing Daniel how to shoot, encasing him with her arms as she nocks the arrow for him. The tips of his ears are so red that they could practically be a flare; you can see how flamboyant they are all the way from your hiding spot. 

You start grinning like a maniac, excited that your plan is finally unfolding. 

You had noticed how awful Daniel was at archery during a training session a couple weeks ago, and you casually suggested to him that he should ask Jihyo for some lessons. You’ve always known that Daniel has been hopelessly in love with Jihyo since the moment he saw her (it’s a child of Aphrodite thing—you can just sense it), but she’s been oblivious to it this entire time. 

Well, until now. 

Just as you guessed, sparks flew immediately. You could cut the sexual tension between them with a knife. You give them a couple more passionately-charged archery lessons before they inevitably surrender to their emotions and begin to date—and your predictions are never wrong. 

“Another job well done, Y/N,” you mumble proudly to yourself, “Mom would be so proud.”

“Excuse me, ma’am. I’m going to have to ask you to stop loitering by these bushes and stalking those two campers over there, or else I’ll have to report you to the camp director,” a sudden voice from behind you says. 

Letting out a loud yelp, you drop your binoculars in surprise and whip your head around to see who it is. You turn so fast that you almost fall backwards into said bushes, quickly using your palms to balance yourself. 

“Renjun, you asshole!” 

Huang Renjun, your long-time best friend and professional asshole, is standing in front of you. He’s wearing the iconic orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt with black jeans, his hands tucked inside his pockets. His dark hair is parted to one side, with a single lock of hair falling perfectly into one eye, giving him the I-wake-up-and-my-hair-is-naturally-like-this look (even though it’s most definitely not true). No doubt that he’s the best-looking person in the entire camp, but his brusque personality makes him a rose with thorns. Sharp thorns.

You often wonder how the two of you even became as close as you are. Children of Athena and Aphrodite notoriously clash due to their mothers’ history with each other. 

You met Renjun four years ago at Arts and Crafts Center, which is a hotspot for children of Athena. It was your first time at the camp, and you wanted to try making a ceramic (maybe a bowl or vase) to bring back to your family as a souvenir. Of course, you failed miserably and got snickered at by other Athena kids. Renjun, who had been sitting beside you, was the only one who didn’t laugh. He even gruffly gave you some pointers. Grateful, you complimented his painting—a mix of pink, yellow, blue, and purple watercolors that meshed together to resemble a galaxy. In return, he gave it to you.

“It’s not my best work, so you can have it,” he had said nonchalantly.

Even though it was the most beautiful piece of art you’ve ever seen, and it’s remained one of your most prized possessions to this day. 

After that incident, you basically attached yourself at the hip with him. He would constantly complain about you following him around, but he also didn’t do anything to stop it. He’s been complaining for four, going on five, years now, yet he’s become your closest friend. Renjun likes act like you’re a pain in the ass (which isn’t untrue), but you know he cares about you. Even if he doesn’t verbalize it, you can tell by his actions; it’s all about the small things with him. Despite being rough around the edges, Huang Renjun is actually just a big softie on the inside. 

“—could you stop snooping around like a weirdo?” Renjun asks, cutting your trip down memory lane short.

You rise to your feet, dusting your palms off and glaring at him. “I’m not snooping around like a weirdo. I’m just snooping around on one of my projects, like a good matchmaker.”

“Sure,” he says, rolling his eyes. He leans down and picks up your binoculars, handing them to you. 

You take them and hang them around your neck. “Why are you here anyway?”

“Aren’t you the one who asked me to meet you at the Dining Pavilion for lunch?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Oh, sorry! I lost track of time,” you exclaim. “How’d you find me?”

Renjun gives you a pointed look. “Well, seeing as how Daniel and Jihyo are your current quote-unquote project, all I had to do was figure out where they were because I knew you’d be somewhere close.”

You give him a sheepish smile. “You know me so well, Junnie.”

“The hell? Don’t call me that, it’s gross,” he snaps, pretending like he’s about to gag.

“You’re not cute at all,” you huff. 

“Neither are you,” he replies.

“You are so rude! You’ll never get a girlfriend with an attitude like that!” You place your hands on your hips.

“I’ll live,” he says, shrugging. 

You don’t know much about Renjun’s love life because he refuses to tell you anything; he’s like a stubborn clam that won’t open up. However, he’s made it very clear that he does not want your assistance when it comes to finding romance. Obviously, it hasn’t stopped you from trying, but this is one of the few things you can’t seem to make him give in to. 

Yet.

“Whatever,” you sigh. “Let’s go eat.”

The two of you walk to the Dining Pavilion, which is a relatively long walk from the Archery Range, but you make enough conversation that it feels short. When you arrive, you see that they’re serving chicken curry and rice. Your stomach growls embarrassingly loudly when the mouthwatering scent hits you, which prompts Renjun to laugh at you. You give him the middle finger and then turn around to grab a lunch tray. Once you get your food, you two sit at a table in the back. 

Before you begin to eat, you notice that your curry has chunks of potatoes and slices of carrots on it—you abhor carrots more than anything in this world. Noticing your disgusted expression, Renjun slides his plate over without even batting an eyelash, so you can pick out the carrot slices and give them to him. It’s a routine thing for the two of you, since you’re an extremely picky eater and he’s not.

After you take out all of the carrots, you begin to devour your food. You’re wolfing it down so fast that you’re basically asking to choke, in which you immediately do. A piece of chicken lodges itself in your throat, and you begin to cough violently. Renjun sighs, patting your back before handing you your cup of water. 

“I feel like I’m babysitting a toddler every time I eat with you,” he points out as you gulp down your water. 

“Thanks,” you say after you recover.

“For dislodging the food in your esophagus or calling you a toddler?” 

“Both!” you say cheerfully. 

Renjun shakes his head at you, but he’s smiling. You take advantage of his good mood by quickly reaching over and swiping a couple of grapes from the fruit bowl on his tray. He rolls his eyes when you pop them into your mouth and wink at him. 

“Um, Renjun?” A small, different voice cuts in. Both of you turn around to see who it is. 

Hwang Yeji, daughter of Iris and one of the most popular girls at the camp, is standing there. She’s fidgeting, and you can see pink dusting her cheeks. Her friends are at the table right behind her, giving her supportive looks. She smiles shyly at Renjun. 

“Can I help you?” Renjun asks, deadpanning. He isn’t rude per se, but it’s also not a friendly tone. 

Yeji slightly falters at his lackluster response. “Oh, um, I’m going to be performing at the amphitheater tonight...and I was wondering if you could come watch?”

“Why?” 

You know Renjun is asking because he’s genuinely baffled, but it doesn’t lessen your urge to want to slap him upside the head.

“N-No particular reason! O-Okay, bye!” Yeji turns on her heel and runs away. You watch her go back to her table, head hung low in defeat.

“What was that all about?” Renjun is still bewildered. 

No longer able to control yourself, you punch him in the arm. “You moron!”

“Ow! What the hell, Y/N?” he hisses, rubbing his arm.

“She invited you to watch her perform because she likes you!” you hiss. 

“What? No, she doesn’t.” He furrows his eyebrows. 

“Yes, she does! I should know of all people, you dingus. Even without powers, literally anyone else would be able to see that Yeji likes you!” You’re trying your best to keep your voice down, but he’s making it difficult for you. “You are the densest person on the planet!”

“Look who’s talking,” Renjun mutters underneath his breath. 

“I can’t believe you just blew her off like that,” you continue, not hearing what he said.

“How was I supposed to know she liked me? I’ve never even spoken to her,” he protests.

You stare at him in disbelief. “Couldn’t you tell by the context clues?” 

“What context clues?”

“Oh my gods,” you groan, covering your face with your hands.

“What do you want me to do then?” he asks tiredly. 

“Go to her performance tonight,” you say immediately, uncovering your face and whipping your head to look at him with a hopeful expression.

“I don’t really want to though. There’s no point in getting her hopes up if I don’t like her back,” Renjun states matter-of-factly.

“How do you not even have a little bit of interest in her? Look at her! She’s stunning!” You feel like your eyes are about to pop out of your head.

“I’m not saying she isn’t, but I just don’t feel anything special towards her,” he explains. 

“You’re actually insane,” you say incredulously. “There’s no way someone can look at Hwang Yeji and say they don’t feel anything special.”

“If you feel so strongly about it, you could date her,” he suggests.

“No, I’ve decided,” you cut him off, slamming your hand on the table with determination. “I’m going to find you a girlfriend.”

“I’ll have to respectfully decline your services,” he answers, sighing.

“Give me one week,” you plead, “all of my matches have worked out within a week. Please, Renjun? The worst thing that can happen is that you actually like someone and you two become a couple.” 

“And what if it doesn’t work out?” He tilts his head.

“Then, I’ll drop the girlfriend topic for good. I swear on River Styx. And I’ll also give up my title as Camp Half-Blood’s official matchmaker,” you promise.

“You gave yourself that title.”

“Shut up.”

“Why are you so adamant on finding me a girlfriend anyway?” he asks.

“Because you’re so set on not getting a girlfriend, and that drives me crazy. I want to know just who on this Earth can make you feel something special, if even Yeji can’t do it. I want to crack you, like a walnut,” you admit.

“Bad analogy.”

“Yeah, it sounded better in my head.”

Renjun falls quiet, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he weighs the pros and cons of your proposition. Athena kids think way too much and way too loudly; they need to let loose and follow their hearts more.

You sit in anticipation for just a little longer before you see the tension on his face begin to dissipate and his features begin to droop. It’s an expression you know well; he’s going to let you have your way, like he always does. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. “You get five days. That’s it.”

You squeal loudly, launching yourself at him so you can envelop him in a big bear hug. He grunts as he catches you, saving the both of you from toppling backwards onto the floor. “You’re the best, Renjun!”

Even when he’s irritated or annoyed, Renjun never pushes you away when you hug him. He isn’t exactly the affectionate type, yet his embrace is always so warm and calming. His words may be cutthroat, but his actions are always gentle.

He circles his arms around your waist loosely as he sighs into your hair, seemingly waiting for you to pull back to face him before he says anything. When you do, he flicks you on the forehead instead.

Okay, so you take the his actions are always gentle part back.

“Ouch!” You shrug yourself out of his hold, rubbing the probably reddening spot on your forehead.

“Payback for punching me earlier,” Renjun says, crossing his arms. “But are you sure about this?”

“What do you mean?” 

“You have a perfect record when it comes to your matches. Plus, you’re losing two out of your usual seven days. Are you sure you want to risk breaking your streak?” he asks. 

“What makes you think it’ll get broken?” you shoot back.

“I don’t just think; I know it will,” he smirks arrogantly. “That’s why I’m asking.”

You feel your left eye twitch. Riled up by his cocky demeanor, you grab your cup and chug the rest of your water, wincing like you just downed a shot. Wiping your mouth, you point your finger at him.

“Huang Renjun, just you wait. I’ll make you fall in love so hard that you’ll forget your own name.”

ও DAY ONE.

The Athena Cabin is a marvel to you every time you enter it. Rather than a cabin, it’s a workshop and a library in one on the inside. There are beds pushed haphazardly against the walls, and if you didn’t know that this was the official Athena Cabin, you would’ve thought that the Athena children had simply just crashed at a random facility at the camp and decided to call it their place of residence. 

Renjun is still asleep, despite the commotion of his brothers and sisters running around in the library and/or constructing something in the workshop. His bed is located in the very back, hidden by a bookshelf that’s not frequented often. He’s curled up into a ball, with the blanket covering his head but you can still see tufts of his hair sticking out from under it. 

“Rise and shine!” you sing, lifting blanket off his face. 

His peaceful expression twists with discomfort as its exposed to light, and he immediately rips the pillow out from under his head and puts it over his face. He says something to you, but his words are muffled. You just assume it’s some sort of profanity. 

“Come on, Sleeping Beauty! We have business to attend to,” you say cheerfully, taking the pillow away and tossing it to the foot of his bed.

“And what exactly is this supposed business?” Renjun asks dryly, opening his eyes and squinting up at you. 

“We’re going to scout for potential candidates for you,” you answer as you grab his arm and pull him up. He reluctantly lets you, slumping forward like a limp puppet. 

“Isn’t that your job?” He raises an eyebrow, running a hand through his messy bedhead. Renjun always looks particularly adorable when he wakes up. His pajamas consist of a pair of basketball shorts and an extremely stretched-out t-shirt. The shirt is so big that it’s slipping off his shoulder, which makes him look like a little kid. His hair is sticking up in all sorts of directions, and you can’t help but grin at how cute it is. 

“Yes, but you’re a special case.” You talk to him like he’s five, running your hands through his hair and messing it up even more. Renjun scowls at you, but he sits there and lets you do it.

“Geez, who peed in your cornflakes?” you tease, seeing his stormy look. 

“You.”

“Okay, fine! I’ll wait for you outside, but don’t take too long to get ready,” you say, finally retracting your hands. “No more than thirty minutes or else I’m gonna come find you!” 

He gives you another nasty look, and you blow him a kiss before skipping away. As you head back to the entrance, you greet a couple of Athena kids who pass by. Normally, Aphrodite and Athena children stick their noses up in the air and ignore each other, but you’re such a frequent visitor that they have had no choice but to accept you. It also helps that Renjun is quite popular, so the campers that don’t like you are forced to tolerate you anyway because you’re his best friend. 

That’s another thing you don’t understand—why Renjun hangs out with you when everyone around him is practically foaming at the mouth at the prospect of being his friend (or something more). But for reasons unknown to you, he chooses to ice them out and spend time with you instead.

It’s not that you’re inherently unpopular or someone that would “tarnish” his reputation, but he could probably find someone that annoyed him less and didn’t cause as much trouble as you do. However, you’re glad that he’s choosing to stay by your side in spite of how crazy you can get, because you’re not really sure what you would do without him. 

Not that you would ever admit that because Renjun would roast you to high Olympus.  

As if on cue, you spot Renjun trudging toward you. True to your request, he got ready within thirty minutes. In fact, it only took him about fifteen. He doesn’t look very happy, but he’s always had a resting bitch face (though you’re pretty sure he’s just pissed at you right now).

Strangely, you’re a little embarrassed to see him. You’re not sure why you suddenly thought of your friendship with him and got all sappy. You’ve never really been good at handling the mushy-gushy stuff—only helping others find it.

“Let’s get this over with,” Renjun says begrudgingly when he reaches you, crossing his arms.

“Okay, well, first thing’s first,” you respond, trying to get back on track. You loop your arm through his, which prompts him to instantly uncross his own so you can cling onto his bicep. It’s such a natural action for you that you don’t even think about how quickly he accommodates you. “What’s your type?”

“Where are we going?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows as he lets you lead him around.

“That depends on your answer to my question,” you reply breezily.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the one who figures that out? You know, with your whole Aphrodite-love-sense-tingle thing.” 

You ignore his dig at your ability. “Normally, yes. But seeing as you’re incapable of feeling any emotion other than bitterness, I have to directly ask you.” 

He laughs at your comeback. “I see. But even if I do tell you my type, what makes you think she will like me too?” 

“If she doesn’t, then just woo her with your irresistible charm,” you say sarcastically. 

“My irresistible charm has a tendency to make people hate my guts, actually,” Renjun says, shrugging. “Wouldn’t want that, would we?” 

“Renjun, you are fully capable of making a girl fall for you,” you chide, huffing at his negative attitude. “I’m not concerned with that. My main issue right now is finding someone that will make you care enough to want her to like you back.”

“You think so?” he asks quietly, looking down at where your hand is resting on his arm.

“Hm?” 

“I hope you’re right,” he says a little louder, dragging his gaze away from your hand and giving you a small smile. “About being capable.”

When Renjun looks into your eyes, you feel him for the first time. Your heart wrenches with his, like a knife was driven into it and something keeps twisting it. It’s an excruciating pain that makes your lungs want to cave in, a pain so unbearably sad that it makes you want to assume fetal position and bawl your eyes out, an exhausting pain that drains you of all your energy until you want to collapse, a pain that makes you hate yourself—but it’s a pain you never want to get rid of. It’s a pain that makes you happy. It’s a pain you’re willing to endure for...for...for what? 

But the pain only lasts for a moment, flashing by like lightning. As you try to reach deeper, it slips through your fingers. Just as suddenly as it hit you, it vanishes. What remains in its place is the metaphorical iron wall that you always seem to run into every time you try to look into Renjun’s heart.

You can already feel your body starting to forget the pain. It’s so fast that you begin questioning if you even truly felt it in the first place, or if it was all some fever dream. You could also be having a stroke, so there’s that.

All jokes aside, you’re not sure what you’re more surprised by: the fact that Renjun has been feeling like this or how well he’s managed to hide it. 

And you’re not sure what you’re more hurt by: the fact that Renjun didn’t tell you or if you’re the one he’s trying to hide it from.

“—hello? Y/N? Earth to Y/N?” Renjun waves his hand in front of your face. 

You jolt, blinking several times as you detach yourself from your whirlwind of thoughts. “S-Sorry! What were you saying?”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“Ghosts don’t exist,” you retort automatically.

“Yes, they do! How many times have I told you there’s no way that my glass bottle could’ve fallen from my bed without shattering, yet it was underneath my bed, completely and totally unsc—” He begins to protest. 

You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug. Thankfully, Renjun stops rambling about his ghost story that you’ve heard about a million times and trails off. His hands slowly come to rest on the small of your back, giving you soothing pats. It makes you sad that he’s always ready to comfort you when he’s the one that needs it. Your vision gets blurry with tears, but you hurriedly blink them away.

“How can you be so smart yet so dumb?” you whisper into his shoulder, clutching him tighter.

“You know, you’re sending me mixed signals here,” he says wryly. 

You hug him for a couple more seconds before pulling back. Reaching your hands up, you cup his face. Unfortunately, you do it a little too enthusiastically and basically slap both of his cheeks. “Shit! I’m so sorry, Renjun!” 

“Ow! What is wrong with you?” he demands, wincing. His lips are adorably jutted out and his words probably aren’t as angry as he wants them to be because you’re squishing his cheeks way too hard. 

“I just wanted to tell you that I will definitely find you a girlfriend. No matter what,” you declare with determination in your eyes.

Because I don’t want you to be in pain anymore. Because you deserve to be happy. Because you should have someone to lean on too, you want to say.

Renjun is staring at you like you’ve grown another head. “Y/N, you’re scaring me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you dismiss. “Now, hurry up and tell me your ideal type.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” 

“Oh my gods, I’m fine. Stop with all the questions and just answer me!” you say, placing your hands on your hips.

“I think I’m starting to reconsider my ideal type right now,” he replies, eyeing you suspiciously. 

You sigh loudly. “Could you tell me one character trait that you would like in a girlfriend? Just one. Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

He snorts, and you begin to grow frustrated. “Renjun—”

“Stubborn,” he answers. 

You raise an eyebrow. “Of all the things you could’ve chosen, you went with that?”

“I finally answer your question and now you’re shaming me for it?” he shoots back. 

You put your hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, sorry. Anything else you can think of?”

“Unpredictable. Hotheaded. Infuriating. Nosy. Reckless. Unable to take anything seriously. No concept of personal space,” he lists them off like he’s has it memorized.

“These are all terrible traits,” you point out, frowning. 

“Tell me about it.”

“Stop messing around,” you snap, giving him a small shove. “Some positive ones, please.”

Renjun pauses. “This might take a second.”

You give him a pointed look, crossing your arms and tapping your foot impatiently. At this point, you’re not even sure if he’s just joking or if he actually means it. However, it’s the only thing you’ve gotten out of him so far, so you have to work with it. 

“Dedicated,” he finally says after some intense pondering.

You exhale in relief. “Thank gods. What else?”

“Kind. Cheerful. Carefree. Funny. Always makes me smile. Marches to her own beat. An open book when it comes to her feelings. Says whatever is on her mind without thinking twice. Gets excited about things that don’t matter. Has a wonderful laugh. Able to see the good in me, even though I’m an asshole—”

As he continues, you eventually stop paying attention to his words and watch his expression. All of his features have softened, and there’s a warmth in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. He has the gentlest smile on his face as he talks, but you’re not even sure that he’s aware of it. 

You wouldn’t be a child of Aphrodite if you couldn’t recognize a boy in love, and Renjun certainly fits the bill. 

Suddenly, you feel an ugly sensation twisting in the pit of your stomach, coiling like a poisonous snake. It’s an awful feeling, and it makes you ashamed because it resembles jealousy way too closely for your comfort. You hate feeling like this, but you don’t know how to stop it. In fact, you don’t even know why you’re feeling this way. It’s foreign to you, but you know it’s not coming from Renjun. This is all coming from inside you.

“Stunning in every way,” Renjun finishes quietly. His voice is barely a whisper, but you can hear it clearly, as if it’s right in your ear. 

Digging your nails into your palms, you let out a low whistle. “That was very...specific.”

“Afraid of a challenge?” he counters, smirking. 

His banter makes you grin. It’s almost enough to make you forget the feeling in your stomach. You wonder why you keep getting worked up by yourself. Maybe the summer heat is getting to you, and you really are on the verge of having a stroke. 

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” you retort dramatically, clinging onto his arm again. “Alright, let’s go!” 

“Where?” 

“The Training Grounds!” 

“Why there?” His nose crinkles. 

“Your ideal type is as Ares kid as it can get,” you say, snorting. “So, obviously, we’re going to their turf.” 

“Ares children are obnoxious and arrogant,” Renjun scoffs. 

“And you’re a smartass, so it’ll be fine,” you say breezily. 

He rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath. 

“You’re such a drama queen. Besides, it won’t be only Ares kids there,” you point out.

He shrugs in a noncommittal manner but ultimately lets you lead him to the Training Grounds. When you arrive, as expected, it’s mainly Ares kids there. For people who aren’t used to it, the Training Grounds could be mistaken for a battle royale, judging by how vicious it can get at times. Even though it’s just a bunch of sweaty young adults angrily swinging swords at dummies and each other. 

Stroking your chin, you begin to scan the area. It’s only when your eyes fall onto Park Sooyoung, the daughter of Ares that’s infamous for making men cower to their knees, that the lightbulb goes off in your head. 

“What about Sooyoung?” you ask excitedly, tugging on Renjun’s shirt. 

He frowns. “She hates me.”

“You don’t know that,” you say.

“She tried to throw a dagger at my head once,” he states flatly. 

“She does that to everyone,” you dismiss. “I think you two would work well together.”

“Please, enlighten me.” 

“She could be the brawn to your brain. She’s super rambunctious, while you’re more reserved and can keep her in check. But she’ll be able to teach you how to live a little, and you’ll just perfectly balance each other out. You know, that whole opposites attract and enemies to lovers trope,” you explain. 

“Enemies to lovers?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you say dreamily, “You two start off absolutely despising each other, but neither of you can fight the tension building and eventually just get entangled in the throes of your passion!”

“Okay, Fifty Shades of Grey, calm down,” Renjun says, scrunching up his features in disgust. “Stop writing fanfiction in your head and come back to the real world.”

You glare at him for killing your vibe. “Just go and try to talk to her.”

“I don’t want to be mauled.” There’s actually a small glimmer of fear in his eyes. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s not gonna kill you. At least not in front of everyone like this,” you reassure him. 

“So you’re admitting that there is a possibility she would kill me.”

Fed up, you snatch his wrist and begin dragging him. He makes noises of protest, but you keep a vice-like grip on him. Sooyoung is sparring with some of her brothers (and frankly, handing their asses to them). You’re envious of how beautiful she is even with sweat dripping from her chin and tendrils of hair stuck to her neck. Her face is flushed with effort, but it makes her look like a peach. 

However, don’t ever judge a book by its cover because she proceeds to lift one of her brothers, as if she’s bench pressing him, and tosses him aside like a rag doll. He comes flying directly toward you, but Renjun wraps an arm around your shoulders and yanks you aside with his surprisingly quick reflexes. Sooyoung’s brother lands with a hard thud, right beside your feet.

Renjun holds you tightly against him as he scowls at Sooyoung, who is smirking at him. Your heart is pounding wildly, though you’re not sure if it’s from the adrenaline rush of one of Sooyoung’s brothers hurling towards you like a projectile or the way Renjun is cradling you to him.

“Are you out of your mind?” Renjun demands, livid. 

“Sorry about that,” Sooyoung says, trying to hide her amusement. 

“No, you’re not. You did it on purpose,” Renjun snaps. 

“Remove head from ass, Huang. If I didn’t think you’d be able to get her out of the way in time, I wouldn’t have done it,” Sooyoung responds, sounding bored.

“What if I hadn’t? Your tank of a brother would’ve knocked Y/N out,” Renjun says angrily, gritting his teeth. “And trust me, she doesn’t need any more screws loose than she already has.”

“Hey!” you chime in, offended. His arm falls from your shoulders and back to his side when you give him a dirty look. He seems a little surprised, whether the reason be from your sudden protest or how long his arm’s been around you. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sooyoung says, rolling her eyes. “Anyways, what do you want? You’re here to see me, right?” 

Renjun opens his mouth to say something, but you slap a hand over his mouth. “Renjun thinks you’re really pretty and wants to train with you.”

Perhaps you could have delivered it in a smoother manner.

“Mm?” He stares at you with wide, horrified eyes. He’s trying to speak, but it’s all muffled by your palm. 

Sooyoung snorts, crossing her arms and tilting her head. “Does he now?” 

“Yes. He’s just too shy to admit it,” you lie through your teeth. 

“Mhm, I’m sure he is,” she laughs. “What’s the actual reason you’re here?”

“Whatever are you talking about? That is the reason,” you answer sweetly. “So, what do you say? Wanna spar him?”

“Mmmmmm!” Renjun has you by the wrist, trying to remove your hand from his mouth, but you won’t budge. 

“You must think I was born yesterday,” Sooyoung sighs. “You’re trying to set us up together, right? Glad to see you’re sticking to your whole matchmaking schtick.”

“Maybe,” you admit sheepishly. “Also, it is not a schtick! I have a natural affinity for finding people that are compatible with each other, like all Aphrodite children, and it is my duty to use that ability in order to help others.”

Despite how proud you look, Sooyoung and Renjun exchange knowing glances, and she reaches forward and gives him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Stray strong, soldier.”

“Mm,” he responds, sounding tired.

You watch the interaction with a baffled expression. Neither one of them seems intent on providing any context for you. You’re hit with another pang of jealousy. 

“While it would be my utmost honor to be Renjun’s girlfriend, I will have to decline. Firstly, because I would definitely murder him by our third date tops. And secondly, because I already have a girlfriend,” Sooyoung says nonchalantly. 

Your hand goes limp and falls off of Renjun’s mouth, finally freeing him. Your jaw is hanging wide open, a direct invitation for flies. The both of you just stand there and gawk at her. 

“What?” you exclaim, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You have a girlfriend?”

Most Aphrodite kids are just naturally aware of all the couples at Camp Half-Blood whenever they see them, but you make it a point to keep tabs on them so you can avoid incidents like this while you’re trying to find matches for others. Clearly, you’ve missed one. 

“Ye—”

“Who is it?” you demand, resisting the urge to shake her until her bones rattle. “How could I not know about it?”

“Well, that was the goal,” Sooyoung explains, “we want it to be a secret.”

You’re gripping her so tightly that the tips of your fingers have turned white, though you’re sure it doesn’t bother her since she’s pure muscle. You want to know who it is so badly, but you respect her privacy, so you decide to let it go. Even if you really don’t want to.

“I understand,” you say solemnly, begrudgingly releasing her. Your body is slightly twitchy as you fight to control your need to snoop. 

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” Renjun cuts in, half-joking and half-concerned. 

“Today has not gone well for me,” you sigh, spirit crushed by the sudden news and exhausted because of your weird mood swings that have been happening. “I’m hot, and I just want a nice, cold shower, followed by some nice, cold ice cream, and then followed by a nice, warm nap. We’ll try this again tomorrow.” 

“Want me to walk you back to your cabin?” Renjun asks. 

You nod, shoulders slumped in defeat. “Sorry to bother you, Sooyoung.”

“No problem. You’ll get ‘em next time,” Sooyoung says, trying to sound encouraging. 

As you turn to pitifully walk away, you notice Sooyoung and Renjun exchange another look in your peripheral. She gives him a thumbs up and he smiles wryly before he also turns to follow you.

It’s just the icing on the cake for your awful day. 

The walk back to your cabin is pretty quiet; Renjun sensing your foul mood and making the wise decision of letting you pout all by your lonesome (not that he’s much of a chatterbox anyway). You’re looking down at your feet as you walk, and he kindly navigates you through crowds and moves you out of the way when campers run by. This is something Renjun does often, since you have a tendency to not pay much attention to your surroundings on a regular basis, so you don’t even think twice about it. 

When you finally arrive, Renjun gives you a comforting pat on the back. “See you tomorrow. I’ll meet you here. Do not barge into my cabin and give me another rude awakening like you did today.”

You give him a strained smile and wink. “No promises.”

Of course, your act doesn’t fool him. He sighs. “Did it really bother you that much that Sooyoung managed to hide her relationship from you? It’s not like you to be so down after one failure.”

Honestly, that’s the least of your concerns right now. Did it hurt your pride? Yes, but you’ve recovered from a wounded pride countless times. 

What bothers you the most right now is the vile jealousy that you’ve stored in your heart. How shitty you felt when he was describing his ideal type (and how absolutely lovestruck he looked), or how bitter you were when you saw that Sooyoung and Renjun were in on something you weren’t. It eats away at you, seemingly within moments, before you even know what’s happening. But why? Where is it all coming from?

This is Renjun you’re talking about. Renjun, your best friend. Renjun, the one who’s always there for you. Renjun, the closest person to you other than your bloodline. 

Or so you thought. 

The pain that you felt from him earlier still haunts you, even if it’s faint. You’ve always seen Renjun as someone you can confide in, no matter what, yet it doesn’t appear like he feels the same towards you. In fact, an irrational part of you thinks you may be the one he’s trying to keep it from. 

And the paranoid part of you thinks Sooyoung knows about it too.

You know it’s horrible to think that, but you can’t control it. Renjun isn’t required to tell you everything he feels just because you do, not that it doesn’t hurt any less. It just bugs you that there could be someone closer to him than even you, which is an incredibly toxic mindset to have. You’re upset by the fact that you’re so possessive of him, yet you can’t seem to let him go either. 

I guess it’s alright if it’s Sooyoung, you admit to yourself, since she has a girlfriend.

You blink.

Wait, what? 

Before you can figure out what the hell your brain meant by that, you feel Renjun place his hand on your forehead. It jars you from your thoughts and you come back to reality, where Renjun is staring at you with furrowed brows as he checks your temperature. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright? You’ve been spacing out all day,” he says, clearly worried.

“F-Fine!” you answer way too enthusiastically. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismisses. “Just go get some rest.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you nod hurriedly, giving him a two-finger salute. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early! Don’t oversleep!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves you off, smiling. You can tell he’s still concerned, but your brighter attitude relieves him just a tad. “Oh, and Y/N?” 

“Mhm?”

“I forgot to mention one more trait for my ideal type.”

“What is it?” You wish you had never asked him in the first place. Just when your mood was getting a little better, it sours just as quickly. 

“Dense,” he adds. 

You give him a puzzled look. “Huh?”

“I want her to be dense,” he states simply. 

“No way,” you argue, when his words finally register. “How is it gonna work out if both of you are dense as hell?”

“Who knows? Maybe our denseness will cancel each other out, and we’ll fall in love instantly,” he shrugs.

“Of course. PEMDAS and shit,” you jokingly agree.

“Exactly,” he says, nodding with a deadpan expression. 

You laugh loudly—a big belly laugh that makes Renjun beam. The tension eases off his features, and he seems much more reassured. Your heart swells at how hard he’s trying to make sure you’re okay, not that he would ever admit that.

“Okay, for real now. Bye, Y/N.” He gives you a lazy wave before walking away, shattering your touching moment. 

You huff at how he turned around without even letting you respond, though you still wave back (even if he can’t see it), and go back into your cabin. The moment the door closes behind you, you make a beeline for the shower. Peeling off your sweat-soaked clothes, you close your eyes in bliss when the cold water hits you. 

As you let the water run down your body, you begin to feel more and more like a petulant child that just threw the biggest tantrum ever. You’re embarrassed that you overreacted like that and got so emotional for no reason. You chide yourself for being selfish. Just because you’re upset that Renjun doesn’t confide in you the way you do him, it doesn’t mean that he shouldn’t have someone. You should be happy for him when he finds a person he can fully open up to, even more so than you. Isn’t that what you’re trying to do for him right now? 

You shut the water off before slapping your cheeks hard, giving yourself a wake up call. Resolving to be more composed tomorrow, you decide to just take a nap for now as you change into comfortable clothes and dry your hair off. 

When you get to your bed, you see a small bowl of ice cream on your nightstand. Luckily, your shower didn’t take too long, so it’s still relatively frozen. It’s two scoops of chocolate, which is your favorite. You’re so excited that you almost miss the note tucked underneath the bowl. 

don’t know when you’re going to get out of the shower, so this might just be soup by the time you’re out. if that’s the case, drink it anyways since i went through the trouble of getting it. 

You snort. It’s so like Renjun to write a tactless note like this and not even bother signing off on it. If he’s going to be sweet, he shouldn’t ruin the moment by doing what he always does—opening his mouth (figuratively, in this case). 

But it’s not enough to wipe that big grin off your face, as you carefully fold up the note and put it in your drawer. 

He’s not cute at all.

ও DAY TWO.

The next day is about as successful as the first one, if not worse.

You had woken up with a game plan. Before you went to meet Renjun, you drafted up a list of campers that matched his ideal type (for the most part, since he was a little too specific). The goal was to narrow it down to a couple names before trying to march in head first, since that went disastrously yesterday. 

Unfortunately, instead of things going smoothly like you had hoped, you find yourself banging your head against a tabletop repeatedly.

You and Renjun are currently sitting in the library of the Athena Cabin, having been there for almost an hour now. He’s nearly eliminated your entire list that you so meticulously curated this morning. You’re starting to wonder if he’s purposefully being difficult just to see you riled up.

Renjun watches you hit your head a couple more times before outstretching his hand, catching your forehead in his palm and blocking you from hitting it against the table again. “Stop before you bleed all over the table, and I get stuck scrubbing it out later.”

You raise your head to glare at him. “I’ll show you bleeding all over the table.”

He doesn’t even blink at your threat, infuriatingly unfazed. “Are you done with your list already?”

“No,” you grumble, “I still have some left.”

“So, if I’m not interested in the rest, does that mean we’re done for the day?” he asks.

“Haha,” you say wryly, “you wish. If you don’t pick one, then I’ll just go through the list myself and pick one that I think is the most compatible with you.”

“Damn it.”

“Okay, what about Hyun Seunghee? She’s an Apollo kid. Super talented and sweet, one of the most adorable people on the planet, and loves art just like you,” you suggest.

“Seunghee is a very sweet girl,” Renjun agrees. “But I don’t think I have the energy to keep up with her. She’s even bubblier and more hyperactive than you, and I can barely manage dealing with you.” 

Sighing, you cross out Seunghee’s name on your list while simultaneously flipping off Renjun with your other hand. “Okay, what about Lee Mijoo? She’s one of my sisters, and honestly, she’s way out of your league but I’ll keep her in the running for now.” 

You figure it’s best to not mention that, despite being way out of his league, Mijoo has expressed some very...explicit interest in Renjun before. It’ll make things awkward if they do end up talking, and you aren’t one to expose your own sister like that.

“Ew, no way, that’s weird,” Renjun says, scrunching up his nose.

“What, why?”

“I don’t want to date anyone related to you. That would make us sort of related too, and the last thing I want is to be your brother.” He spits out the word like it’s a stale piece of gum that he’s been chewing for four hours.

“First of all, slow down, tiger. You would have to marry her for us to be related. This is just a casual thing. No one said anything about marriage. Second of all, that is so mean! Why wouldn’t you want to be in-laws with me?” you demand, offended.

“Don’t most people enter relationships with the intention of spending the rest of their lives with each other?” he asks, skillfully dodging your question. “I won’t date someone if I think we’re just going to breakup down the road.”

There’s a beat of silence as you stare at him with wonder. Your lips curl into a gentle smile, and you can’t hide the adoration in your expression. Renjun truly is all bark and no bite. Who would’ve guessed there’s such a lovely and pure person behind his sharp tongue?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks warily. You swear you can see a little pink dusting the shells of his ears and the tip of his nose.

“It’s just...you’re much more of a hopeless romantic than I initially thought, Huang Renjun,” you say teasingly. 

Now, you can definitely tell he’s embarrassed. He mumbles a “shut up” under his breath, but you can barely hear it.

“Don’t put so much pressure on yourself,” you advise, “it’s totally natural to date and breakup. You can love someone with all of your heart, but that doesn’t mean they’ll be your life partner. Loosen up, my friend, and just have fun! Fall in love recklessly, and don’t think about anything else! That’s what youth is all about!”

You expect him to make fun of you for lecturing him like you’re centuries old, when the both of you can barely label yourselves as adults, but he doesn’t. 

Instead, he’s gazing at you with a deep melancholy in his eyes. You’re sitting right across from him, but the way he looks at you makes it seem like you’re galaxies away. Your gut wrenches at how hurt and helpless he seems, like he’s yearning for something that is out of his reach. 

Time seems to slow down as the two of you stare into each other’s eyes, as if you’re both entranced. It’s hard to tell how long you stay like that, but it feels like you’ve woken up in the middle of a sweet dream when Renjun finally breaks eye contact. You’re slightly disoriented, even though it’s probably only been a few seconds.

Clearing his throat, Renjun mutters, “Anyways, don’t put anymore of your siblings on the list.”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts before sighing. “Fine. But now I’ve run out of names on my list.”

“Well, gosh darn it, what a shame,” he says in a terrible Southern accent while attempting to get up. “Look’s like that’s a wrap for today!” 

“Not so fast,” you cut in, snapping your fingers at him to sit back down. “We’re not done yet.” 

He groans but reluctantly obeys, dramatically throwing his head into his arms when he does.

“Behave while I go through this list again,” you order, putting stars next to names that you’re going to force Renjun to reconsider with. 

“Now, you’re making me want to hit my head against the table,” he complains, voice muffled by his arms.

You ignore his whining, focusing on your current task at hand. Just as you finish narrowing it down to a select few, someone brushes past you and it’s like you hear angels singing. Seo Soojin, daughter of Nemesis and actual hotness personified, walks by. 

Soojin is relatively new to Camp Half-Blood, having arrived for the first time last year. You don’t know much about her personality because she keeps to herself and her tight-knit circle of friends for the most part. You know for a fact that she’s a far cry from Renjun’s type, but you’re starting to think he doesn’t really know what he wants—seeing that he shot down every single person on your list already. She will be a nice change of pace for him.

“What about Soojin?” you ask in a hushed whisper, leaning forward. 

“Who?” Renjun looks around, not lowering his voice or trying to be subtle in the slightest.

“Shhh!” you hiss, grabbing him by his shirt and yanking him forward. You pull a little too hard and end up knocking your foreheads together. 

“Ow! Why is your head made out of cast iron?” Renjun winces. He tries to lean back, but you don’t let him escape. 

“Shut up! You’re the blockhead, asshole,” you protest, getting offended for the second time. “Anyways, Seo Soojin. The girl over there. The one with the bangs, big lips, and is hot as fuck?” 

He squints, finally zeroing in on her. “What about her?”

“That’s what I’m asking you, dipshit!” 

Renjun shrugs noncommittally—an action that you’ve grown extremely accustomed to during these past two days, an action that makes you want to rip your own hair out. “She seems nice.” 

“Well, try and talk to her then,” you say, spelling it out for him. “You know, so you can see if the two of you will hit it off or not.”

He gives you a look. It’s the same look that a twelve-year-old kid gives his mother when she makes him take a picture in front of a national monument that he doesn’t know anything about, nor does he care to. However, she insists, so he reluctantly trudges over to it and takes the picture—hands firmly balled up by his sides and his lips pressed into a hard line, no matter how much his mom tells him to smile.

So, in other words, Renjun looks like he wants to crawl into a hole and die.

“Are you sure that you’re human?” you ask incredulously. You’re not even being sarcastic at this point; you genuinely want to know how he is able to feel absolutely nothing for women that could rival the goddesses themselves.

“Technically—”

“If you say that you’re only half-human because we’re demigods, you’re going to get a pen through the jugular,” you warn, pointing your pen at him. 

“Am I wrong, though?” 

“You know what I mean, you smartass. Are you or are you not capable of feeling romantic attraction towards another person?” you demand.

“I am,” he simply says.

“That’s it? That was the most robotic answer I’ve ever heard in my life!” you exclaim. 

“What else am I supposed to say?” he asks, throwing his arms up. 

“Have you experienced any blackouts recently, like woken up without memory of the past twenty-four hours? Have you checked your body for any chip implants under your skin?” You eye him suspiciously. “Been beamed up by any UFOs? Gone somewhere haunted?” 

Renjun gives you a pointed look, sighing. “While it is touching to know that you do, in fact, listen to me whenever I talk about topics I’m interested in, this is not how I wanted you to apply your knowledge.”

“You know, now that I think about it, you sure talked about alien abductions a lot,” you say, stroking a fake beard on your chin. “Could it be because you were actually abducted by aliens and got brainwashed into gathering information about us demigods, but they took away your ability to feel emotions so they wouldn’t get in the way of your mission?” 

You pause, waiting for his reaction. Renjun is very obviously trying not to smile, with his chin being propped up by his palm and his fingers covering his mouth. “Please, continue.” 

“But ultimately, that will be your fatal flaw and the downfall of your mission because you can’t empathize like humans can,” you finish dramatically. 

“Alright, let’s say I was brainwashed by aliens. Why would I then draw more attention to myself by talking about the very thing that happened to me? Wouldn’t that be counterproductive?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Reverse psychology,” you explain, “you talk about them, so you won’t seem suspicious.” 

Renjun exhales sharply before looking down at his feet. You can see his lips twitching as he tries not to laugh, though you’re pretty sure that exhale from before was a small laugh. You’re grinning, despite the fact that you’re also trying to keep up your detective act.

“I’m kind of wish I had been abducted by aliens right about now. Maybe brainwashed me would be a little more courageous,” he mutters under his breath. You’re not sure if you were meant to hear that, but you do anyways. 

“That sounds exactly like something someone abducted by an alien would say!” you say in an accusatory tone, pointing a finger at him. He rolls his eyes, but a tiny smile eventually makes its way to his lips. 

You gasp loudly, grabbing his face and pulling it towards your own. He makes a small noise of surprise, eyes as wide as UFO saucers. Your faces are so close that your noses are slightly brushing up against one another, but you’re not paying attention to that right now. 

“Or you could be a lizard person,” you whisper, “you know, the ones that people think take the place of government officials.”

“They’re called reptilian humanoids,” Renjun corrects. His breath (which smells like the blueberry muffin he had this morning) rustles your baby hairs. 

“Your eyes are glowing yellow, and your pupils are turning into slits,” you tease.

“Are they, now?” 

No, they aren’t. His eyes are a cool, icy gray, like most Athena children. It’s always been a trait you’ve been jealous of. They sparkle like stars, or freshly fallen snow. They change according to his mood too. For example, when he gets angry, there are no stars. Instead of twinkling, they flash like lightning. His eyes are truly the window to his soul; they’re one of your favorite things about him.

Renjun slightly leans into your touch, and it finally hits you how close he is. You’re cupping his face with both hands, tilting his chin up, and it looks like you’re about to...kiss him.

 It seems you’re not the only one who thinks so, because almost the entire library is gawking at you. Including Seo Soojin. She looks surprised, and slightly disgusted, by the two of you.

Oh.

You feel heat rise from your neck to your entire face.

Oh gods, they all think we’re a couple.

You recoil away from him, withdrawing your hands like your just burned yourself. “We have to get out of here.”

“What?” As always, Renjun doesn’t know what’s going on.

“Just come on,” you say quickly, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the library. 

Your face burns for a long time after that, and you can no longer focus on anything else. In the end, you decide to call it a day after a few more half-hearted attempts to find more candidates for Renjun. When you come back to your cabin, you take another cold shower. 

You’re not sure what you’re so flustered by: the fact that you didn’t realize what you were doing or the fact that everyone in the library saw it.

Or the fact that you didn’t mind the notion of being mistaken for a couple with Renjun.

ও DAY THREE.

You don’t meet bright and early with Renjun today. He demanded to sleep in this time, since he’s not an early riser to begin with and the past two days have sucked all the energy out of him. 

Which means you’re free until noon. You check the time—10 AM. 

Two hours to kill. 

You don’t feel like getting all sweaty and hot, so any activity outside is out. You really don’t want to be judged by more Athena kids in the Arts and Crafts Center without Renjun. So, you decide to head back to the library, despite how yesterday went.

You check out a book that goes into depth about some of the most believable conspiracy theories; Renjun actually read it a while ago (and totally geeked out about it to you), but who would have thought that you would end up reading it too? Past you definitely would’ve laughed in your face if you told her that. 

Once you get back to your cabin, you curl up in your covers and begin to read. You get about two chapters in when you hear the door open and Jeong Jaehyun, one of your brothers, walks in. He’s wearing his orange t-shirt that’s soaked with sweat, and his hair is dripping from perspiration too. His pale skin glistens, and he looks like a sweaty and sparkly vampire. 

“Hey, kid,” Jaehyun says, nodding at you. He isn’t that much older than you, but he’s gotten into the habit of calling you kid for some reason.

“This is a surprise. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you come back from training before 5 PM,” you tease.

He lets out a low whistle. “Way too hot out there. I needed to get some A/C before I had a heatstroke—is that a book in your hand?”

“What about it?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Jaehyun snorts. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you near a book, much less read one.”

“Rude. I am expanding my horizons,” you retort. 

“It seems so. What was up with you and Renjun at the library yesterday?” Jaehyun plops down on the edge of your bed. 

“How do you even know about that?” you ask, wrinkling your nose. “And go take a shower first before you sit on my bed! You stink!” 

“Do I?” He waggles his eyebrows and throws his arms around you in a bear hug. You try your best to shove him off, but he has a hold on your like a python. 

“I hate you,” you say when he finally pulls back, sniffing your shirt to make sure you still smelled like your fabric softener. “Anyways, how’d you find out about the library thing?”

“Rumors spread fast around here, dear sister. But, seriously, what’s the deal?”

“There is no deal, Jaehyun,” you sigh, closing your book. “It’s all just a misunderstanding. We were joking around while I was trying to find a potential girlfriend for him there—which, by the way, is going horribly. I don’t think he feels romantic attraction properly like everybody else.”

“Oh right. I forgot you roped Renjun into your matchmaking thing,” Jaehyun says, disappointed. “Damn, and here I thought he finally made a move.”

Your head snaps up to give him a quizzical look. “What?”

“What?” He tilts his head.

“What did you mean by that, the part where you said you thought Renjun finally made a move?” you ask. 

Jaehyun stares at you for a couple of seconds, an astonished expression on his face. “Do you really not know?” 

“Would I be asking if I didn’t know?” you shoot back, annoyed that he still hasn’t answered you. 

“Gods, all this time, I thought you were just pretending like you didn’t know because you didn’t want to make things awkward,” he continues, shaking his head.

“Jaehyun, what are you talking about?” you demand.

“Renjun is in love with you, Y/N.”

You gape at him. It’s a good thing you’re already sitting down because you definitely would have fallen on your ass if you had been standing.

“Th-Th-That’s impossible,” you stammer, like an absolute idiot. “There’s n-n-no way.”

“Oh, come on, lil’ sis. He’s never even tried to hide it. He’s so obvious about it that I seriously don’t understand how you didn’t know,” Jaehyun snorts. “You don’t even need to have powers to see that he’s head over heels for you.”

“But—but how? I would’ve sensed it!” you exclaim.

“You’re so sharp when it comes to other people, but you’re dense as hell when it comes to yourself,” Jaehyun points out, shrugging. “You just never paid attention, Y/N.”

You don’t respond. Your mind is a mess, a jumbled mishmash of emotions. You’re feeling so many things right now, and you can’t pinpoint any of it.. You wouldn’t be surprised if you passed out.

“Do you like him back?” Jaehyun asks softly. 

“I—no! Of course not. Renjun’s my best friend. If I liked him, why would I be trying to find him a girlfriend right now? That’d be stupid of me. Yeah, that’d be so dumb. Why would I do that?” You’re rambling now, and it’s glaringly obvious that you’re trying to convince yourself rather than Jaehyun (and you know he can see it too).

“It doesn’t seem like you’re trying that hard, though.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask defensively. 

“The Y/N I know spends all hours of the day gathering information on her potential matches and making sure even the tiniest detail goes according to her master plan that she’s already drafted inside her head. She wouldn’t be sitting here, leisurely reading a book, especially if it’s going horribly. She would be doing everything in her power to get things back on track,” Jaehyun notes. “Ask yourself. Do you really want Renjun to get a girlfriend?” 

“Wh-Why wouldn’t I?” You ask him, hoping he knows the answer, because you sure as hell don’t know. 

“Because he won’t always be there anymore. He won’t have time to let you constantly drag him into your antics anymore. You won’t be his number one anymore. His girlfriend will be his first priority, of course, as she should. Think long and hard about that, Y/N. Will you be okay with that?”

“I—” The words seem to die inside your throat as you come to realization that you might not be okay with that at all. You’ve always gone to Renjun for everything and knowing that he may not always be there makes you feel lost, like a compass without it’s True North. You’re being selfish again, but it seems like you’ve gotten into the habit of acting selfish whenever it comes to Renjun. You’ve let yourself grow too reliant on him. 

“Why do you care so much anyways?” Now, you’re deflecting. “Why did you tell me all of this?”

“Because you’re my little sister and I care about you. I want you to be one hundred percent sure of your own feelings, so your heart doesn’t get broken. The only reason I didn’t say anything sooner was because I thought you were already sure. Take some time and think about it, Y/N. It’ll be better for your friendship with Renjun if everything is crystal clear between the two of you,” Jaehyun advises, giving you a pat on the shoulder. He gets up, presumably to take a shower, and leaves.

You barely notice him go.

You sit in your bed, staring blankly at the wall, until Renjun finally arrives. He’s still a little groggy, probably having woken up ten minutes ago before coming. His clothes are a little rumpled and his hair isn’t styled, with his bangs flopping in his eyes. Normally, you would have made fun of him and mussed it up, but you have other things on your mind as of the moment. 

Like always, he can tell something is up. He gets that concerned look on his face—the one where he has a deep crease between his brows and his rosy lips are turned downwards. 

“What’s wrong?” He places a hand on your arm, lowering his head so he can’t get a better look at your face. 

Physical contact with Renjun has always been something normal for you, but suddenly, you’re now acutely aware of everything about him. You can feel the pad of every one of his fingertips on your bare skin, the warmth of his palm, and just how easily his touch makes your body relax. Even when your brain is a whirlwind of thoughts, your muscles, like clockwork, instantly loosen up with just a brush of his hand.

“We need to talk,” you say shakily, moving away from him. There’s a flash of hurt in his eyes as his hand falls to his side. You feel bad, but the longer he’s touching you, the more confused you get. 

You lead him a secluded area behind the Dining Pavilion, and he follows wordlessly. He waits for you to speak as the two of you stand there. Now that you’re here, you don’t really know what to say anymore. 

“Are you in love with me?” you blurt before you can stop yourself. “Jaehyun said—”

“Yes,” Renjun answers. If he’s surprised or taken aback whatosever, he doesn’t show it. In fact, it seems like he knew this was coming. There’s no fear or hesitation in his eyes. He’s unwavering in his answer, and you wonder how he can always be so certain of his feelings. 

“How long?” you ask tentatively. 

“Probably when we first met,” he says. 

“Why?” 

“Are you asking me why I’m in love with you?” He raises an eyebrow. 

You’re not sure. You’re not sure of anything anymore.

When you don’t answer, Renjun looks at you for a very long time. “You make me happy, Y/N. No matter how shitty things get, no matter how much I want to ram my fist through a wall, I see you and it’s like I can finally take a breath again. When you smile at me, I forget about everything that was bothering me. You and your daily shenanigans are the best part of my day. You’re obnoxious and frustrating and exhausting, but I fucking love you for it. I’m at your beck and call; I’d do anything for you. Whenever you’re happy, I become happy too. Nothing else matters to me anymore. That’s why.”

“You should have told me,” you say, voice cracking. Your heart is singing with joy, and you want to cry with relief. He talks about you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and you so desperately want to be exactly that for him. You’re not confused anymore. Everything has finally become clear for you now. You truly wonder how you managed not to notice anything at all—whether it be your own feelings or his. 

“I knew it would upset you,” he murmurs. 

But then it hits you. 

You can’t even fathom how much Renjun has had to endure throughout the years. He’s loved you all this time, yet he hasn’t said a word—out of consideration for you. In everything he’s ever done during the course of your friendship, he has always put you first. Even if it hurts him, he was willing to withstand it for your sake.

Yet all you’ve done for him is force him into letting you try to find a him a girlfriend, despite the fact that he was against it, and he had to pretend like he was okay as he watched you parade around like a fool telling him to love someone else. 

You don’t deserve to be loved by someone like Huang Renjun.

You don’t deserve to love someone like Huang Renjun.

Suddenly, you begin to feel nauseous—probably sickened by guilt. Black spots dot your vision, and your legs start wobbling. Your body collapses only moments after, but luckily, Renjun manages to catch you before you can hit the pavement. 

“Y/N? Y/N? Hey, talk to me,” you can hear him say very faintly. He’s cradling you against his chest, and you bury your face in it. Your head is spinning, but you feel surprisingly grounded in his arms.

Has he always smelled this nice? His scent is a mixture of books and sandalwood, and you’re basically crushing your nose against his chest like an absolute pervert. You don’t feel embarrassed because you know you can blame it on being sick later. 

Speaking of sick, even though Renjun smells so good, you proceed to lean forward and vomit all over him and yourself.

Once again, you don’t feel that embarrassed because you black out soon after.

ও DAY FOUR.

You wake up tucked nicely under your covers. Much to your relief, you’re also in clean clothes—your favorite set of heart pajamas. Unfortunately, that’s the only bright side to your current state.

It feels like you haven’t had a sip of water in ten years, and your lips feel like they’ve been glued together. Even the tiniest movement makes your head feel like someone is drilling into your skull. Your body feels twenty times heavier, and not to mention, you just generally feel like shit because of what happened with Renjun.

“Oh my gods, you look so creepy right now. Who just lays there with their eyes wide open? If you’re awake, you should say something,” a voice chides. Turning your head just a smidgen (and wincing because of the pain), you see your sister, Lee Mijoo. She has a glass of water in her hand, setting it on your nightstand.

“How long have I been asleep?” you ask hoarsely. 

“Let’s see. Renjun brought you back at like 2 PM yesterday, and it’s now 8 PM, so...thirty hours?” Mijoo counts on her fingers. 

“Fuck,” you groan.

“Heatstroke will do that to ya,” she says, making a clicking noise with her tongue.

“I had a heatstroke?”

“Yep. It was a pretty nasty one too. You really did a number all over Renjun’s shirt. It was like a vomit Picasso,” Mijoo says, sounding kind of impressed.

Your face burns from humiliation. 

“Here, sit up and drink this water,” she orders, helping you get up. Your head is screaming in pain, like a million little jabs to your brain. You down the water in one big gulp, not realizing just how dehydrated you were until your lips hit the water. 

“So, you and Renjun, huh?” Mijoo asks sheepishly.

If you still had water in your mouth, you would’ve spat it out. “What?”

“Jaehyun told me everything,” she explains.

Traitor, you think to yourself.

“Don’t be mad at him. Renjun looked like a kicked puppy when we saw him. There’s no way I wouldn’t have asked questions,” she says. “Did you break his heart, little sister?”

You sigh, putting the cup back on your nightstand. “I hope not. His heart shouldn’t be broken by someone like me.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means that he shouldn’t concern himself with me,” you sigh.

“Well, he does. He came to check up on you like a billion times. I had to ban him from coming back until tomorrow,” Mijoo snorts. “He’s a really good guy, you know.”

“Trust me,” you say, rubbing your temples. “I know that better than anyone.”

“So, what’s stopping you? I would be all over that.”

You glare at her before letting out another sigh. “He’s too good for me, Mijoo.” 

“That’s for him to decide, no?” She raises an eyebrow.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just saying the truth,” you say. 

“So, you won’t mind if I date him?” she asks seriously.

Your face falls instantly, and Mijoo doubles over laughing. 

“Geez, Y/N, you looked like you were about to claw my eyes out!” She wipes away a tear.

“Very funny,” you say dryly. 

“But what if I had been serious? What would you have done then?”

You don’t answer.

“I think you really, really like Renjun, Y/N,” Mijoo whispers loudly.

“I think I love him,” you whisper back.

“Then, you should probably tell him.”

“Yeah, I should,” you echo.

Ignoring the major migraine you have and the fact that you’re still a little sluggish, you throw your covers off of you. You don’t change out of your pajamas, simply throwing a thin cardigan over it. 

“Uh, Y/N, maybe you should wait until you feel be—”

“No, I have do it now before I change my mind,” you cut her off, slipping on your tennis shoes.

You hear Mijoo call after you, but you’re already out of the door. The Athena Cabin isn’t too far from the Aphrodite Cabin, so the walk is short. Much to your surprise once you’re inside, he isn’t there.

Grabbing the nearest Athena kid you see, you ask, “Where’s Renjun?”

“Um, I think he went to the amphitheater?” 

The amphitheater is a bit further, so you promptly release and thank the kid, before taking off. You’re not sure if running is recommended right after a heatstroke, but you do it anyways. By the time you get there, your cardigan is slipping off and you’re dripping with sweat from the humid summer heat. 

The amphitheater is extremely crowded, since there was probably a performance tonight. It’s actually a little hard to see over all the people. However, you find Renjun pretty quickly.

You see him standing off to the side, away from everyone else. He’s staring emptily at the stage, hands tucked inside his pockets. He looks so tired and dejected. His entire body slumps as if it’s too exhausting to stand up straight anymore. 

All because of you.

You wait until you finally catch your breath, opening your mouth to call out to him. But you don’t ever get the chance to because a girl walks up to him. You can’t tell who she is because the back of her head is facing you, and you see Renjun give her a small smile before saying something.

The girl laughs and turns her head, giving you a view of her side profile.

Hwang Yeji.

All of the courage you had inside you withers away like a dying flower.

You take a step back, accidentally bumping into someone behind you. They say something to you, but you don’t hear it at all. Instead, you turn on your heel and run. You run wildly and blindly, nearly whizzing right past your cabin. You’re barely able get back inside, eyes so blurry with tears that you can’t even see where you’re going. 

When Mijoo sees you, she doesn’t ask any questions. She just turns on the shower for you, extra hot. You step in without a word, letting the water mix with the tears running down your face. 

It’s not that you think Renjun is in love with Yeji now. In fact, you know he’s not. It’s just that they would be much better together. 

Yeji is one of the sweetest girls you know. She would treat Renjun with the kindness he deserves. She would consider his feelings first before making him do anything. She would make him happier than you ever could. They would be so compatible, and if you weren’t in love with Renjun yourself, you would definitely be trying to set the two up. 

After your shower, you change into the clothes Mijoo set out for you—an oversized sweater with cotton shorts—and miserably crawl back in bed. You’re so drained that you don’t even have the energy to drink the fresh glass of water on your nightstand. 

Everything hurt—mentally and physically. 

Your heart aches most of all. You’ve dated here and there, gone through some breakups, but nothing has ever been as painful as this. 

It’s a pain that consumes you whole. A pain that makes you want to scream but no sound will come out. A pain that makes you want to tear your heart out. A pain that makes you wish a bunch of aliens abducted you and brainwashed you into not feeling any emotions anymore.

It’s the same pain that you thought you felt from Renjun on the first day of when this all began.

And then the last puzzle piece finally falls into place.

That pain was never his.

It has always been your own.

You love Renjun too, and you’ve loved him for a very long time.

ও DAY FIVE. 

“Come on, Y/N. At least get up to wash your face and brush your teeth,” Mijoo pleads.

You ignore her, pulling your covers over your head and turning away. It’s already well into the afternoon, but you’ve been feigning sick so you didn’t have to get up. The rest of the Aphrodite children have left and gone about their various activities throughout the camp, but Mijoo was tasked by Jaehyun to take care of you.

“If you just do that, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day,” she bargains. 

You think about it for a second before sighing, begrudgingly sitting up. You can see the pity dripping out of her eyes when you brush past her to head to the bathroom. When you see yourself in the mirror, you can understand why.

Puffy eyes, matted hair, tear-stained cheeks, and chapped lips. It’s too bad you hadn’t been wearing mascara last night because the only thing you’re missing in your hot mess look right now are those dark smudges right under your eyes.

You brush you teeth, which takes a lot more effort than you realize, and splash water on your face. Not even bothering to brush your hair, you head straight back to bed. True to her word, Mijoo doesn’t say anything else after that.

That is, until a couple hours later.

“Um, so I know I said I would leave you alone, but I think you might want to get up for this one, Y/N,” she whispers. You can’t see her because you back is turned to her, but you can tell by the tone of her voice that it’s important.

Irritated, you yank the covers off you and sit back up once again. “Mijoo, I—”

You almost choke on air when you realize Mijoo isn’t alone. Renjun is right beside her, looking not much better than you. He’s in a wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair looks like he just ran his fingers through it and called it a day, and he has purple bags under his eyes.

“Can we talk?” Renjun asks. 

You hesitantly nod. 

“I’ll, uh, give you two some privacy,” Mijoo says awkwardly before turning around and running out of the cabin. 

You don’t know what to do now, staring down at your clasped hands. You hear Renjun take a step forward, and you feel the edge of your bed dip under his weight. There’s a sizable gap between you and where he’s sitting, but he’s still close enough for his scent to waft over to you. He smells wonderful like usual, and you hope you don’t stink in return.

“How are you feeling?” Renjun asks quietly.

“Like shit,” you answer honestly.

He laughs under his breath. “I know what you mean.” 

Your heart skips a beat, and you feel giddy all of a sudden when you see him smile. How did you manage to turn into a lovesick little schoolgirl over night? 

“I talked to Yeji last night at the amphitheater,” Renjun says after a moment. 

“I know,” you mutter. 

He blinks. “You do? How?” 

You’re not sure how to answer that.

“Well, that doesn’t matter right now,” he dismisses, taking in a deep breath. “I just wanted to tell you that I ran into her after I checked up on you, and she invited me to watch her performance. I wasn’t going to say yes at first, but I thought it would make you happy if I did. I tried, Y/N, I really tried. Yeji’s a nice girl, but I can’t help how I feel. I love you, Y/N. It’s always been you, and it always will be. I’m not asking you to love me back. I just want to stay by your side, as your friend, if you’ll allow it. I—”

“Stop,” you interrupt, scooting closer to him and putting a hand over his mouth. “I have to tell you something.” 

Renjun gives you a bewildered expression but nods nonetheless. 

You remove your hand from his mouth, before taking in a deep breath of your own. “You’re my best friend, Renjun, and I’ve always confided in you for everything. I took you for granted, and I only thought about myself. Deep down, I think I’ve always known about your feelings and my own, but I was afraid to dig for it. I was comfortable, and I didn’t want to ruin that, even though you were hurting. I’m truly sorry for treating you that way, Renjun. From now on, I want you to tell me everything—the good, the bad, the ugly. Don’t bottle things up for my sake.”

He goes to say something, but you hold up your hand to stop him.

“The reason why I knew you were with Yeji at the amphitheater last night is because I was there too. I went to look for you,” you finally confess. “When I decided I was going to find a girlfriend for you, I thought I would be able to step aside when you did find someone. But once I saw you with Yeji, I realized that I couldn’t do it. What I want with you isn’t a friendship anymore. I’m in love with you, Renjun. I have been for a long time, and it took me four, almost five, years to see that because I never thought to listen to my own heart until now. I don’t think I will ever deserve you in his lifetime, but I love you. I’m selfish and I’m a mess and I always cause trouble for you, but I—”

Renjun wraps an arm around your waist and tugs your body flush against his. His hand comes up to cradle your cheek as his thumb lightly runs across your cheekbone. You’re clutching his shirt like a lifeline, holding your breath, as you stare into those gray eyes.

“You,” he whispers, his lips barely brushing against yours, “are more than I deserve.”

He leans in and closes the infinitesimal gap between your mouths. He kisses you desperately, like you’ll disappear any moment, and you can feel all of the emotions he’s been locking away. His arms are wound tightly around you as he pulls you into his lap. You weave your hands through his hair, and he deepens the kiss. Your shirt rides up as you shift, and you feel his hand slip up your shirt and rest against your back. It ignites a fire within you and you want to tell him to take it off completely, but your lungs are screaming for air, so you have no choice but to pull away.

“Sorry,” Renjun says breathlessly, his chest heaving up and down, as he takes his hand out from under your shirt.

“No, I liked it,” you say, shaking your head and placing your forehead against his. “I just ran out of air.”

“No,” he disagrees, “I didn’t mean for it to go that far. It was supposed to be a sweet kiss, but I lost control.” 

He tugs your shirt back down and gently sets you back down next to him. You can’t help but giggle at how flustered he is. It’s not often that Athena children, especially Huang Renjun, loses control of their emotions like that. 

“I’m glad you find this amusing,” he says wryly, rolling his eyes. 

“You know,” you say in a sing-song voice, “I still technically never broke my streak. I found you a girlfriend within five days.”

“Does it really count if you ended up being my girlfriend?” He raises an eyebrow. “Seems a little unprofessional to me.” 

“Don’t be a sore loser,” you taunt.

“You also said you were going to make me fall in love so hard that I’d forget my own name,” he points out. “And I didn’t, so that’s false advertising. Unprofessional and unethical? I could sue you.” 

“You are so petty,” you squint. “And come on! That kiss didn’t make your forget? It made me forget!”

“I don’t like you that much.” He deadpans.

“Huang Renjun, you are so not cute!” 

4 YEARS AGO.

“It’s not my best work, so you can have it,” Renjun says, trying to act casual about it.

You look so happy that Renjun would have painted a thousand more if you asked him to. You have a smile that could make the goddesses envious, and he can barely hear what you’re saying over the thumping of his own heart. He hopes his expression looks somewhat elusive because he’s not sure how to handle himself right now. 

You’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his life. 

Renjun feels like he’s been shot by Eros’ arrow. He used to never understand why everyone was so wary of Eros; he’s basically just a mascot for corny Valentine’s Day cards. Apollo and his children avoid Eros and his children like the plague. Though granted, Eros did force Apollo to fall in love with Daphne and then she ended up turning into a tree. So, there is a little bit of history there. Point being, Renjun just didn’t get it.

But he think he does now.

“Thank you so much!” you say excitedly, extending your hand. “I’m Y/N!”

Renjun just stupidly stares at you. He’s not even sure if he’s worthy to touch your hand, but he also doesn’t want to be rude. He carefully shakes your hand, unable to say a word.

“What’s your name?” you ask, tilting your head. 

Is it possible for a person to be this adorable? he thinks to himself.

“I’m...” 

You’re looking at him, waiting expectantly.

“I’m...”

You’re still smiling, but he can see the slight confusion in your eyes. He’s never felt like more of a moron in his life. 

“Ren...jun,” he finally says after an extreme amount of concentration. 

You beam at him, and he wonders if he’s the only one seeing the ring of light surrounding you. There’s no way you aren’t Aphrodite’s favorite child.

“Nice to meet you, Renjun! Let’s be friends.” 

Renjun isn’t sure he wants to be just friends, but he finds himself nodding along anyways. 

Fuck, he thinks, I’m in trouble.

[plaidbooks]

Autumn Leaves

A/N: Autumn prompts are an excuse for me to write stupidly cute fluff, so that’s what I did. This is a Sonny Carisi x reader fic that covers the Autumn square in @adarafaelbarba​ moodboard bingo!

P.S. second-cousins are children of cousins

Tags: none, just fluff

Words: 1872

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“My family is insane, especially the kids,” Sonny explained while he drove you to Staten Island. “They don’t know how to sit and eat food without screaming.”

You chuckled, "it's fine, Carisi, I promise; I'm kind of used to this type of stuff already."

“What? You are? You don’t even know what’s awaitin’ ya, yet,” he replied, scoffing.

While in the precinct, you overheard Sonny on the phone with his ma. He seemed upset and perpetually tired when he hung up. When you asked him what was wrong, he told you that his ma was basically guilt-tripping him into visiting on Saturday, to help with the Autumn Feast his family partook in. And when you asked why that was so bad, he complained that no matter what they cooked, the kids of the Carisi Clan would hardly sit still long enough to eat, and would scream and cry if it wasn’t something they wanted.

“It just…it’s a handful…and not my ideal day off, even if I do get to see my family,” Sonny finished

You had nodded in sympathy before offering to go with him; you had a pretty big family with a lot of kids, too. Plus, you could never turn down Sonny’s amazing cooking, and now, you were getting a chance to taste his mom’s.

He had picked you up that morning, and now, you were on your way to Staten Island, Sonny warning you the whole way. You laughed and shrugged it off, but he kept giving you a look like you’ll see what I mean.

 ********************

He pulled up to his childhood home, and your eyes sparkled at the state of the townhouse. Not only was the building itself quaint and adorable, but there were decorations everywhere. And not just Halloween, but general autumn décor, as well. There were wreaths made with leaves of reds and oranges and yellows, there were scarecrows against the walls, there were fake pumpkins on every step leading to the house. And looming over the house from out back were two enormous trees, their branches almost completely bare, the leaves scattered on the roof, the front yard, and the back.

Sonny led you up the stairs to the front door, opening it for you. The first thing to assault your senses was the cacophony of noise. Children screaming in delight as they ran through the house, chatter and laughter from the various rooms as people talked. There was a tv on somewhere, with what sounded like a sports or news reporter blathering on and on.

The second thing you noticed was the wonderful smells. Your mouth was almost instantly watering as you caught the smell of garlic, potatoes, some sort of roast cooking with assorted spices, as well as cinnamon, sugar, and apples. It was so much at once; it was hard to differentiate.

But the third thing you felt was a type of warmth that comes only from a loving home. It bloomed in your chest, and you found yourself smiling as you stepped over the threshold, Sonny following and closing the door. It reminded you of the holidays at your own family’s place, and a calm washed over you.

In all of the chaos, Mama Carisi must’ve heard the door open and close, because she stuck her head out of the kitchen. Once her eyes latched onto Sonny’s, her smile grew to blinding proportions.

“Sonny, my little bambino! Come see your ma,” she cooed, arms open as she came out of the kitchen fully.

Sonny scooted passed you and hurried to his mother, wrapping her in a tight hug and kissing her cheek. You smiled at the reunion, and Mama Carisi opened her eyes to find you.

“And who is this?” she asked, releasing her son and coming over to you.

Sonny followed, looking more relaxed than you had ever seen him; getting a hug from your ma did that to a person. “Ah, this is my partner in the department,” he explained, introducing you.

You went to shake her hand, but Mama Carisi wrapped you up in a huge hug, kissing your cheek and whispering, “it’s nice to meet you. Welcome to my home,” into your ear.

“Thank you for having me,” you replied, easily melting into her embrace—okay, maybe it wasn’t just hugging your own mom that relaxed a person; maybe it was hugging Mama Carisi.

She pulled back to give you a look, a warm smile on her face. “Anyone who’s a friend of Sonny’s is welcome here.”

The next hour was a flurry of meeting family member after family member. Even with your detective skills, you quickly forgot most names, and your cheeks started to hurt from smiling. You and Sonny had started in the kitchen before he shuttled you through the house and out to the backyard.

“And these are all my cousins and second cousins; I’m not gonna bother introducing ya, since they won’t pay attention,” Sonny said, chuckling.

You didn’t blame him; there was a gaggle of children running and playing in the backyard. The oldest looked maybe ten, the youngest around four or five.

“Are these the ones that give you such problems?” you asked as a joke. It’s true that they were loud and crazy—as most kids are.

Sonny smirked, nodding. “Sure are. Watch; I bet ya twenty dollars that at least half of them will complain about dinner.”

“You got yourself a deal,” you replied, shaking his hand. Then, you scanned the expansive backyard. Leaves were covering the ground so completely that you could hardly see the lawn; kids were slipping on them all over the place. In the back, left corner stood an apple tree, bare of fruit—you assumed they’d already been harvested. And opposite the tree sat a little toolshed.

Grinning, you made your way through the throng of people and screaming children until you reached the shed. You opened the door and leaning just inside were two rakes: one huge one, and one medium sized. You grabbed the bigger of the two, then went to a small section of the backyard that somehow had no kids.

You glanced over and saw Sonny giving you a weird look, wondering what you were doing. Then, you started raking the leaves. You didn’t expect to get very far—the first pile rarely did. But there were so many leaves that you quickly had a pile up to your hip. As soon as one kid noticed, though, it was on.

The pile was quickly demolished as child after child flung themselves into it, screaming with laughter. But you had already moved on, starting another pile where they had just vacated. This one got a little bigger than the last, since they were distracted with the first pile. But once it was seen, it, too, became a new playground.

As you started on the third pile, another rake joined you. You glanced over and Sonny was there, smiling wide as he helped you rake. This pile got to be huge before little bodies flung themselves into it.

You quickly lost track of time, had no idea how many piles you had built only to be destroyed. But that was the point of the piles in the first place. Soon enough, the children started to become too tired, their little legs worn out. Your own arms were burning, but it was a good burn, and you continued until the piles started to outnumber the children.

By the time dinner was announced, there was not a single child running and playing anymore. They were scattered along the ground, panting, and smiling at each other with a job well done. Their parents all either ushered them to one of the various tables, or simply handed them a plate. Sonny, as well as the rest of his family, watched in stunned fascination as the children ate, too tired to complain or throw a fit about what they were given.

“How the hell did you do that?” Sonny asked in a hushed voice.

You chuckled. “I told you I had experience with this; you’re not the only one with a big family. And besides, no child has ever turned down the opportunity of crunching leaves.”

He gave you a look full of awe before he broke into a wide grin. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and grabbed a $20. You huffed out a laugh as he handed it to you, and you tucked it away.

Mama Carisi walked up then, looking at everyone enjoying her hard work in the kitchen. “You’re a miracle worker, dear,” she said to you before looking at Sonny, “please tell me you’re keeping her?”

Sonny’s ears turned a bright pink. “Ma!”

“What? She’s helpful, knows how to play with children, and is a beautiful, young woman—”

“Ma! Stop talking, please!” Sonny whined. You felt a heat in your cheeks as Sonny avoided looking directly at you. It wasn’t like you never thought about dating Sonny; on the contrary, you found him incredibly attractive. But you were partners; there was a line there that you didn’t know if you could cross.

Mama Carisi scoffed before walking off, leaving you and Sonny to stand awkwardly next to each other. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye before he turned and went into the now mostly empty house. You gave a sweeping look at the party guests before following him in.

You found him standing in his old living room, idly looking at childhood pictures on the wall. You watched him for a moment before you moved closer, within arm’s reach.

“I’m…sorry about ma,” he muttered, eyes still focused on the pictures. “She keeps trying to hook me up with any woman around my age and just…I’m sorry.”

You gave him a soft smile that he didn’t see. “It’s okay, Sonny, really. I don’t think anything less of you or anything. We’re partners, and damn good ones, if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah, but…what if I don’t want to be just partners?” he asked, voice soft.

You froze; what did he say? Sonny slowly turned to look at you, saw the shock on your face. Then he was shaking his head, quickly saying, “look, forget I said anything—”

You cut him off with a gentle kiss, your lips soft against his. He let out a little gasp of surprise before he was kissing you back. One hand came up to your face, cupping your cheek, while the other went to your hip. You slowly wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you. You felt that line that defined you as partners only start to fade away as your mouths moved against each other.

Gently, you pulled away from him, just enough to look deeply into those blue eyes you loved so much. “Maybe I don’t want to be just partners, either,” you said softly.

Sonny grinned, his thumb rubbing your cheek tenderly. “Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow, then?”

“Sounds like a date,” you replied, smiling up at him. His grin broadened before he dipped his head, kissing away any fears or doubts you had about this.

[forzalando]

royally screwed | fw | pt. two

pairing: prince!fred x princess!reader word count: 2.4k warnings: cursing, mentions of meals/food, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers a/n: hello friends! happy valentine’s day!!💛the long awaited part two is here and i hope you all enjoy!😊bonus points if you catch the subtle hp references in this chapter hahaha thank you to @spacexcowgirl​ for beta reading, i love you dearly!! you can read part one here

summary: Prince Frederick Weasley of Burrow was a twin, but unfortunately, at least in his mind, he was born the eldest twin, meaning it was his duty to inherit the kingdom. Since the young age of ten, Fred knew that he was to marry Princess Y/N Y/L/N of Diagon, and over the years they’ve both come to dread the day. With the eve of their wedding closely approaching, their disdain for each other begins to worry their respective families. However, there is a very fine line between love and hate.

Y/N awoke the next morning and immediately recounted the previous day’s events; she could feel the puffiness in her face and eyes from the tears shed after her Mother left her room. She had hoped that their conversation would go differently, but it was done and there was nothing left she could say regarding the matter.

A sharp knock on Y/N’s chamber door had her jumping up and crossing the room faster than her feet would carry her. She stumbled a bit, almost crashing into the door before pulling it open, only to see the most peculiar sight.

Frederick Weasley, with his siblings stood behind him, although George was standing rather close so that he could pinch his brother’s ear.

“Well,” Ginny goaded, “go on then, you arse.”

Fred turned swiftly to shoot his sister a glare, but George’s grip on his ear had him wincing in pain.

“You better get going or I swear I’ll rip it off,” George grumbled, struggling to hide the jesting smile creeping on his face.

“Fine, fine,” Fred huffed. “Princess Y/N, I would like to apologize for my behavior last night. It was entirely unacceptable and I hope that you can find it in your impossibly sma-”

Ginny quickly stomped on Fred’s foot, interrupting what Y/N was sure would be an insult.

“Pardon me, your impossibly large heart, to forgive me. I was also wondering if you would care to join me for breakfast in the drawing room.”

George promptly let go of Fred’s ear, but not without one final yank, and the entire clan of Weasley siblings looked at Y/N expectantly, awaiting her answer with fervor.

“You must be absolutely mad, Frederick Weasley,” she scoffed, folding her arms across her chest in defiance. “After your attitude last night, which you had for no reason, I might add, and you come knocking on my door to ask if I want to have breakfast with you? I don’t want to see your face unless I have to!”

“I’m trying, Y/N! You said that the least I could was try, so here I am, offering to spend time with you when I’d rather lick the floor in the foyer.”

“Well, then, feel free to go scrub the floors with your tongue because I will not join you for a meal today or any other day!”

Fred stalked away with no objections from his siblings, who were all laughing at Y/N’s quip. She had a satisfied smile on her face as well, but it quickly fell when she averted her gaze to the three other Weasley siblings.

“Now what exactly did you think that was going to accomplish?” Y/N spoke with a, mostly, playful glare to the three standing before her.

“Honestly, we were hoping a bit that you wouldn’t answer the door. Mum made us drag him down here,” George answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

“But, now that we are here,” Ginny said excitedly, “will you have breakfast with us?”

Y/N smiled softly; she could never say no to spending time with her only friends.

“Let me get dressed and I’ll meet you…where should I meet you?”

“The drawing room…” Ron mumbled, hoping Y/N wouldn’t recall that Fred wanted to take his breakfast there as well.

“You three are insufferable,” Y/N laughed, “however, I’ll be there in ten. Hopefully he will be gone by then.”

Y/N gently shut her door and quickly threw on a dress and her day slippers; her mother would absolutely have a fit if she saw the disheveled state she was in, but Y/N simply couldn’t care.

After a quick glance in the mirror, Y/N hurried through the castle corridors that she had come to know so well and made it to the drawing room in record time. To her delight, Frederick was nowhere to be seen.

“Good Morning, dear,” Queen Molly said warmly from her seat. “Have you by chance seen Fred this morning?”

Y/N heard the quiet snickering of Ron and George and then a hushed “shut it” that could only have come from Ginny.

“Oh, yes, Queen Molly, he stopped by my chambers to apologize. Very out of character for him, I wonder if someone slipped something into his morning tea.”

Molly Weasley hummed lightly, taking the slightly sarcastic tone of Y/N’s voice to mean that things hadn’t gone as she directed.

“That’s lovely, dear, maybe you’ll actually have a civil conversation in the gardens.”

Y/N set down her tea slowly, trying not to act shocked because she had no knowledge of a walk in the gardens.

“The gardens? I didn’t know anything about the gardens,” Y/N mused inquisitively.

“That’s where Fred is right now, I told him you’d be along in a few minutes. He even looked a bit excited,” Molly teased.

Y/N snorted inelegantly and immediately covered it with a cough; she rose from the table and looked pleadingly at George, hoping he could come up with some form of an excuse that would save her from time spent with Frederick, but George refused to look at her and continued eating his breakfast unbothered.

“I’ll go meet him now, Queen Molly. I’m sure he’s awfully busy so we can make this short,” Y/N said with a smile.

“Fred is free all day, I cleared his schedule, dear.”

“Brilliant,” she grimaced.

With a half-hearted wave, she left the drawing room and begrudgingly walked towards the gardens, smiling politely at each person she passed. Even if her future husband did not care for her, Y/N took comfort in knowing that his family and the people in the castle did; she hoped it would make the rest of her life tolerable.

All too soon, Y/N felt the sunshine on her face as she stepped into the magnificent palace gardens. She could spot Prince Frederick’s fiery hair a mile away; he was standing near the rose bushes twirling a yellow one between his long fingers.

The rustling of the grass between Y/N’s feet caused Fred to turn around to find the source of the noise.

He stalled a bit; even though he despised the Princess of Diagon, he could never deny that she was breathtakingly beautiful. Her hair was unkempt, a soft pink, cotton gown swished around her legs as she stalked toward him, and her face was set in a scowl but even the worst grimace could not distract from her captivating eyes.

It was entirely infuriating, and it made Fred want to hate her even more, but some intrinsic force wouldn’t allow him.

“What are you staring at?” Y/N asked, her eyebrow raising.

“Nothing,” Fred replied with a shake of his head. “I’m just thinking of all the ways I’d rather spend my morning.”

“Well, it seemed like you were staring at me. Do it again and I’ll push you into the rose bushes, I don’t care if you are the future King.”

Fred turned his head and tried not to crack a smile, but failed miserably as the corner of his mouth quirked up involuntarily.

“Let’s get this over with, Y/N, can your stubby legs keep up?”

“It’s not my fault you shot up like a bloody bean pole; you went from stumpy to looking like someone sewed tree limbs together and animated them.”

“Most women like tall men.”

“I like tall men, Frederick, I just don’t like you.”

A stunned silence fell over the two royals, only the sounds of the rustling leaves and nearby animals could be heard.

“I suppose that’s why you like Prince Cedric, then?”

“Beg your pardon?” Y/N’s eyes widened, confused at the sudden interrogation.

“Your conversation with your Mother last night, how you begged her to marry him instead. Or my brother. Or that horrid Malfoy.”

“You had no right – that was a private conversation. How dare you eavesdrop on my personal business? Every time I think you have a shred of decency you prove me wrong, Frederick Weasley.”

Fred stepped in front of the Princess, blocking her path and preventing her from walking on.

“Prove you wrong? I had come to your room to apologize when I heard you plotting with your Mother to run off with someone else and disrespect my family.”

“I would never disrespect your family. They’ve never been anything but good and kind to me, the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt them. I haven’t the slightest idea how you’re related to any of them.”

“Oh, I know, you have them all wrapped around your little finger,” Fred scoffed.

“I’m not going to stand here and fight with you, Frederick, I don’t have the energy. Can we please just keep moving and we can tell your Mother we had a wonderful time and learned so much about each other.”

Y/N stepped around Fred, lightly grabbing his wrist to pull him along through the endless rows of flowers.

“She’ll probably quiz us and you don’t even know my favorite color,” Fred griped.

“It’s purple, I think,” Y/N blurted. “I overheard you telling your Mum years ago that you wanted purple frosting on some dessert. I figured that meant it was your favorite.”

“And you remembered?”

“There aren’t a lot of things I forget about the people in my life, Frederick. If it’s important to you, I’ll remember.”

“But you don’t care about me, why did you even bother?”

Y/N sighed and shook her head before turning to look at Fred, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t hate you. I don’t particularly like you, maybe in a different life we’d actually be friends, but I don’t hate you. I don’t hate anyone.”

Fred realized this was the longest they’d gone without arguing in years, and it was barely one tenth of a conversation. He turned his head slightly to watch Y/N, taking in the way she gazed lovingly at the surrounding flora, and noticed her eyes linger a bit longer every so often.

“Yellow,” Fred mumbled.

“What was that?” Y/N asked.

“You look longer at the yellow flowers. Yellow is your favorite color.”

Y/N smiled softly, the same smile she’d given Fred when she had arrived the day before but it was infinitely more sincere.

“If you were like this all the time, you wouldn’t be so bad Frederick.”

“Who says I’m not?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and this time Fred could not contain himself; he laughed loudly, and the sound triggered a fluttering of sorts in the Princess’s chest. They continued their walk, chattering idly and the Prince even picked a blooming yellow rose and delicately handed it to his Princess.

“I really did want to apologize last night, you know,” Fred assured. “I didn’t have any reason to be so rude when you arrived, I guess it was just…habit. We have a way of getting under each other’s skin.”

“Apology accepted, for your rudeness yesterday, of course. But, you owe me another.”

“Another?”

“Yes, for eavesdropping on me and my Mother.”

“That conversation involved me, I hardly think it’s one I shouldn’t be aware of if you’re trying to finagle your way out of our betrothal.”

“It may involve you, but it was a private conversation.”

“That involved me.”

“My God, I’ve said it before but truly every time I think you can redeem yourself, you do or say something completely asinine. Do you have any manners?”

“You were talking about me, I felt I had a right to listen!”

Y/N groaned loudly in annoyance, drawing the attention of the nearby guards.

“I don’t even believe you wanted to apologize, you had the chance this morning and just insulted me like you always do! Every decent part of you is nothing but an act!”

“You don’t even know me,” Fred seethed.

“No, I don’t, but it’s because you won’t let me!”

“You’ve never even tried, don’t attempt to play me for a fool, Y/N.”

“Well, I’m trying now. I’m trying now and still all we can do is fight.”

The two stood toe to toe, breathing heavily and staring into each other’s eyes. After a few moments, Y/N looked away and sighed deeply. It sounded almost dejected, Fred realized, rather than the anger he had expected.

“Go ahead of me back to the castle, please, I’d like to actually enjoy the rest of the walk.”

“I don’t have to take orders from – ”

“You’ll do as I say, Frederick Weasley,” Y/N snapped.

Fred wanted to argue; God, did he want to argue with her until he was blue in the face, but something about the tone of her voice frightened him a bit. So, he scoffed and stalked back to the castle, swinging his fists by his sides and gritting his teeth.

He passed by his twin, giving George a half-hearted wave before entering the castle. It wasn’t hard to sense the tone of what had transpired, and George shook his head and took off running towards the gardens to find Y/N.

“Oi! What did he do this time?” George shouted as he slowed to a stop in front of Y/N.

“Just the usual. Acting like a pompous prick that can do no wrong. He was nice for two minutes and then refused to apologize for eavesdropping last night on a conversation between me and my Mother!”

George rolled his eyes and raked a hand down his face, massaging his temples in preparation for the headache that his brother always managed to give him.

“Y/N, you know he’s not malicious, he’s just an idiot sometimes,” George offered.

“I appreciate you defending him but at the moment it’s going in one ear and out the other, Georgie.”

He laughed and slung an arm around the Princess’s shoulders, joining her on the remainder of her walk through the gardens. He noticed Y/N twirling a yellow rose around and every so often lifting it to inhale its sweet scent.

“Stealing flowers from our gardens, eh?” George jested, bumping his hip into Y/N.

“Frederick picked it for me, actually,” she mumbled.

“Well, that’s sweet. You two can get along, is what I’m seeing and hearing.”

“It was a momentary lapse of judgment,” Y/N sighed, before throwing the perfect rose to the ground and ensuring her slipper crushed the delicate petals.

When they were good and flattened into the Earth, she swore she felt an ache in her chest.

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[pretendingboyfriends]

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A/N: holy SHIT u guys the way i absolutely LOVE how this turned out,,,,, i REALLY hope u guys love it as much as i do and pls pls pls don’t be afraid to tell me ur favorite parts or give me suggestions for the next part!! and thank u miss tanya @sunflowers-styles​ for beta reading this part!!! ily mwah<3

Warnings: some explicit language & slight sexual innuendos

Word count: 5.9k+

fic masterlist

You gaze out into the crystal blue ocean as you drive along the beachfront, car window ajar allowing the salty, warm breeze to kiss your skin gently. The sun glimmers brightly in the sky, not a single cloud in sight and you feel as though nothing could possibly go wrong. 

Deidre invited you on this beach trip as a last minute getaway. She knew you’d been having a bit of a hard time with your mental health recently, so she decided to rent a beach house for the two of you to try and help you get out of your “funk” as she called it. Two weeks of relaxation with nothing to worry about. Just lounging around in the warm sun with your best friend for 14 days. You simply couldn’t say no. 

Seeing as Deidre has been your best friend for the majority of your lifetime, trips like these aren’t uncommon in the slightest. In fact, you’ve been on so many vacations with her and her family that you can’t even fathom going somewhere like this without her. 

“Do you wanna stop and grab something to eat before we get to the house?” The sound of her voice draws you from your almost dazed state and you turn to look at her as she drives. Immediately at the mention of food, your stomach gurgles violently, loud enough for both of you to hear which causes you both to burst into a fit of laughter.

 “I guess that answers your question better than anything.” You choke through laughter. 

“Well then,” She giggles, “McDonald’s, here we come!” 

The two of you purchase almost the entire McDonald’s menu and eat approximately 3/4ths of it in the car before you’re finally headed to the beach house with bloated tummies and quenched appetites. 

Eventually, you’re pulling into the driveway of a small, teal beach house facing the ocean. The house is lifted on stilts due to its position near the ocean and the paint is slightly worn, chipping away on the wooden slats most likely due to past tropical storms. There are two sets of steps, both leading to a wrap around porch, one coming from the back of the house (where the pool is) and one leading directly to the front door. It’s quaint and homey and you love it. 

When you’d initially pulled in, you hadn’t noticed the other car parked in the driveway, but now that you’re stepping out of Deidre’s car, your gaze falls directly onto the bright yellow Ferrari parked only a few feet away from you. There is only one person you know that owns that exact car. 

“Oh! I forgot to mention, Harry is staying here too.” 

You whip your head in Deidre’s direction, your jaw nearly dropping from its hinges. “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier??”

She shrugs casually as she swings the drivers door shut and walks around to the back. “I guess I forgot.” She presses a button on her keys and the back door slowly opens in front of her. “Plus, I didn’t think you’d mind, the two of you have always gotten along.”

“Deidre, that’s not why I’m upset-”

“Great, then what’s the problem?” She interrupts, eyebrows raised in question as she stares at you. You definitely aren’t one for violence, but the image of smacking her directly across the face flashes across your mind for a moment and you seriously consider doing it. “He’s just here to relax like us. And he’s paying for the place, so I couldn’t really say no.”

You let out an exasperated groan in response, slamming the passenger door shut and stomping around to the back of the car so that you can retrieve your own bags. 

The truth is, you and Harry had gotten along in the past, which would give you no reason to be panicking right now, but something you hadn’t told Deidre was that for the entirety of your childhood, you were madly in love with him. Yes, he’s older than you by a few years, but that never stopped you from pining over him from the ripe age of six. You had watched the way he treated his two sisters and mother for so long and fell in love with his kindness and care for others. You used to daydream about the day he would realize his love for you, but of course Harry got famous and that day never came. 

It’s been years since you’ve seen him in person. The last time you were in direct contact was nearly 4 years ago, a couple years after he went on The X Factor and was immediately consumed by fame. He was 18 at the time, visiting home during a little break, and you were having a sleepover with Deidre, but the length of your collision wasn’t very long. A few harmless words were exchanged during dinner and then you and Deidre had excused yourselves to continue your evening and that was it. Then, he was undeniably the most attractive boy you had ever seen and now, if it was even possible, he’d blossomed into a beautiful man, even more attractive than he was before.

As you begin to haul your bags out of the trunk, Harry appears at the top of the steps, screen door leading into the house flapping loudly behind him. 

“Need some help with bags?” He calls, swiftly galloping down the wooden steps.

Deidre sighs in relief, “That’d be great, thanks Harry!” 

His long, curly hair is pulled into a tight bun at the top of his head, a few stray curls framing his beautiful face. He smiles at you, dimples sinking deeply into his cheeks as he strides towards you, “Long time, no see,” 

You feel the heat rising in your cheeks and you smile sheepishly, “Hi, Harry, how are you?”

“I’m pretty good! And yourself?” He asks, effortlessly tugging your large bag from the trunk of the car and slinging it over his shoulder. 

You swallow thickly, struggling to keep your eyes off of his straining muscles through his thin t-shirt. “I’m uh- I’m good as well.” 

“Glad to hear it, babe.” He winks and you watch as he takes a few smaller bags from the trunk, heading back up the stairs and through the front door, breathing out a shaky sigh before grabbing your remaining bag. 

Deidre is already halfway up the stairs behind him when she calls back to you, “Can you close the trunk before coming up?” 

You shoot her a quick thumbs up and drop the bags onto the cement driveway, lifting your arms above your head and slamming the large door shut before picking up the bags again and heading towards the stairs. You’re still quite stunned at what just happened and, frankly, you’re a little bit vexed with Deidre’s nonchalant way of sharing that Harry was going to be joining you on what was supposed to be a relaxing trip. Nevertheless, you’re forced to set your feelings aside and keep your mouth shut for fear of Deidre prying the truth out of you. 

As you step into the house, screen door slamming behind you, you take a gander around the living area. It’s small and you can tell it hasn't been redecorated since at least 1985. Every piece of decor has some sort of relation to a beach (quite fitting considering where you are). Even the wallpaper is covered with small seashells and fish and it makes you chuckle. There’s an opening connected to the living area that leads directly to the kitchen, a second doorway that you assume leads to the bedrooms, and a large sliding glass door that leads to the back porch. 

Deidre saunters out of the second doorway, “C’mon, let me show you our room!” 

You frown, “Our room?”

“Yeah, there are only two bedrooms.” 

“Oh,” You take a moment to breathe in, feeling your frustration building with every passing moment as you follow her into the small hallway. You pass the first door on your right, glancing inside to find the bathroom before moving on. The next door you pass is a bedroom decorated identically to the living room, a queen sized bed crammed into the corner with a quilt covered in clownfish and seaweed and the last door is another bedroom. This bedroom is painted a bright coral pink and the theme seems to be seashells due to the seashell print on the bed’s quilt and the framed seashells above the bed. This room, although similar to the first one, is a little bit larger and the bed rests directly in the middle of the room instead of it being crammed into the corner like the first one. 

You step into the room after Deidre and toss your bags onto the floor next to the wall before throwing yourself onto the bed as you kick your shoes off. “I’m so ready to relax,” 

She hums as she unzips her large bag and begins shoveling her clothes into the top drawer of the dresser across from the bed. “Me too,” 

“I think I might go for a swim,” You turn over onto your back, lifting yourself up to sit on the edge of the bed as you look at her. “Wanna join me?” 

“As soon as i finish unpacking, I will.”

You shoot her a quick thumbs up and shove yourself off of the bed and towards your bags. Harry had set your large bag of clothes right beside the door, so you fall to your knees and pull it towards you to search for your bathing suit. 

“Go ask if Harry wants to come, too.” She adds, tossing her own bathing suit onto the bed. 

You hate her. You want to strangle her. It’s like she knows. But of course, she doesn’t. You’d never told anyone about your little crush and you planned to keep it that way. Tucking the valuable information into the very back of your mind for the rest of eternity. 

Without a word, you push yourself onto your feet and pad through the doorway, the thick carpet squishing softly beneath your bare feet. You’re hesitant to call for him at first, quietly wandering through the hallway, peering into the open doorways. Both rooms are empty, but there’s evidence of him sprawled across the bedroom. A large suitcase thrown haphazardly on the bed with clothes and shoes strewn all around it. 

 “Harry?” You continue walking, stepping out into the living room to find him lounging on the couch with the TV on in nothing but a pair of tight, black jeans, tattoos on full display. “Oh, there you are,” He looks up at you, a hint of mischief behind his virescent eyes. “Dee was wondering if you wanted to go for a swim with us.” it’s a statement, of course, but the wavering of your voice makes it sound like a question. 

“I would,” He starts, sitting up a little and reaching for the TV remote to turn down the volume. “But it looks like it’s about to rain.”

You frown, turning to the sliding glass window to find that in the short amount of time it took for you to take your bags from the car and into the house, the sky had filled with dark, fluffy clouds. 

“Shit.” 

Thunder rumbles in the distance, droplets of rain mizzling against the windows and roof quietly as the three of you keep yourselves dry inside the beach house.

“Alright, we have Monopoly, Life, Scrabble, Cards Against Humanity, a deck of regular playing cards, Jenga, and a few puzzles.” Deidre lists as she shovels through the large chest beside the couch, labeled ‘Games’. “Which one sounds the most fun right now?” 

You curl your feet underneath you on the couch and shrug, “A puzzle sounds nice.”

She nods, turning to Harry who’s making himself a sandwich in the kitchen. “Harry?” 

“I agree with her on the puzzle.”

“Puzzle it is, then.” She concludes, grabbing the first puzzle her eyes land on and setting it on the wooden coffee table. Another fit of thunder causes the house to shiver and you sigh, silently cursing the rain for trapping you inside on the first day of vacation. 

After Harry comes back into the living room and settles onto the couch beside you, Deidre sits on the other side of the coffee table and dumps the puzzle pieces out onto it. A show you’ve never heard of plays on the TV behind her and you glance up from the puzzle every now and then to watch it as the three of you sit in silence. 

The entire evening Harry sits beside you, his arm gently nudging yours every time he reaches forward to move a puzzle piece. At first, you brush it off as an accident, barely acknowledging his presence, but when he takes it a step further and knocks a puzzle piece out of your hand, you glance in his direction to find him smiling smugly to himself. You shake your head, holding back a small smile as you return to the puzzle, finding a different piece and placing it where it belongs. Two can play at that game. 

As Harry reaches for another piece, you quickly reach over his arm and snatch the piece he was aiming for, mumbling: “Ah, here it is! I was looking for this one.” 

You can feel his gaze burning a hole into the side of your face as you hold back a laugh, a grin tugging at your lips.

“Was that necessary?” He hums thickly, keeping his gaze in your direction. 

You shrug, placing the piece into its home. “I mean, that’s the point of building a puzzle, right? Finding each piece and where it goes...” 

He smirks and shakes his head at you but doesn’t respond.

A few hours pass as the three of you work and soon, it’s dark outside and the rain has calmed to a light drizzle. Deidre yawns and stretches her arms above her head before glance at the time on her phone. 

“I think I’m gonna head to bed, it’s pretty late and long drives always make me tired.” She says through another yawn and you nod.

“Me too,” 

“Alright then, wimps,” Harry replies, “I guess I’ll just have to party by myself.”

Deidre looks at you and rolls her eyes dramatically as Harry chuckles to himself. You push yourself up from the couch, stretching your arms out above your head just like Deidre had done moments ago.

“Goodnight, Harry.” She hums, stepping around the coffee table to smack a quick kiss to his forehead before sauntering off to the bedroom. You glance behind you as you follow her, giving Harry a small wave. 

“G’night,” He mumbles softly in response and you can feel his gaze on you as you step into the hallway. Part of you thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s checking you out.

Warm droplets of water cascade down your bare skin as you step out of the shower, wrapping a soft towel around your body. You hum quietly to yourself, patting the towel against your skin to dry off as much as possible.

Just as you’ve finished drying yourself off, you realize you completely forgot to bring a clean change of clothes into the bathroom, so you’re just left with the dirty clothes you’d spent the entire day in. Cringing at the thought of putting the clothes back on, you decide to take your chances and slip out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around your form. 

You gather the pile of clothes into your arms after taking a moment to moisturize and brush your teeth, stepping out into the dark hallway. Suddenly, just as you’re taking another step, Harry appears at the end of the hallway, crunching loudly with a bowl of cereal in hand. He’s clothed in a thin, grey t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, fluffy socks pulled onto his feet. 

“Shit,” You gasp, eyes widening as you press the bundle of clothes to your chest harshly. 

“Oh, hey,” Harry says mid chew.

You pause, “I didn’t think you’d be awake...”

He smiles sheepishly, “Yeah, uh, I got a little hungry.”

“I can see that,” 

“I can make you a bowl if you’d like,” He offers, jutting a thumb behind his shoulder towards the kitchen.

“Harry-” You scoff, “I am quite literally standing naked in front of you right now.” 

He shrugs, chuckling to himself as his eyes flit to the ground and then back up to you. “Was just trying to be polite.” 

“Um- well, thanks, but I think I’m alright for now.” 

“Alright,” He sighs, taking another bite from his spoon, “Goodnight, then.”

“‘Night.” You murmur, watching him strut past you towards his room. You wait until the door is closed before you scurry into your own room, finding Deidre fast asleep on her side of the bed. 

Morning comes sooner than anticipated and soon, you’re dragging yourself out of bed as Deidre snores. You’re not expecting her to get out of bed anytime soon. 

You trudge out into the kitchen with a yawn, finding Harry leaning against the countertop with his nose buried in a book. He’s in the same clothes from the night before, but instead of his hair being pulled back into a bun

“Good morning,” You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself as you step onto the cold tile. 

He glances up from his book and smiles back, tucking a bookmark between the pages before setting it down on the countertop. “Mornin’. Coffee’s almost ready if you want some. I made enough for all of us.”

“Oh, great, thank you!” 

“I went out to the shops earlier as well and got some of that coffee creamer you and Dee like,” He starts, pushing his large hand through his long, curly hair. “I know it’s been a bit since we last saw each other, but I know that she still likes it, so I assumed you do, too.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you take a clean mug from the dish rack lying beside the sink, “I actually do still like it, thank you.”

He shakes his head, “S’no problem, really.”

The coffee maker beeps twice to indicate that the coffee is finished brewing and Harry turns, reaching out for your mug. “May I?”

“Oh- yes, please,” You smile, allowing him to take the ceramic mug from your hand and pour the scalding liquid into the mug before gently placing it back into your hand. “Thanks.” 

You walk to the fridge, swinging the door open to scavenge for the creamer he’d mentioned earlier. The carton catches your eye and you snatch it from the shelf, kicking the fridge door shut before setting the mug on the counter. 

“Did I get the right kind?” Harry asks as you unscrew the cap. 

“Yep!” You smile, pouring the cream into the dark coffee, causing the two to swirl together into a thick, hazel colored liquid. You find a small spoon in one of the many drawers lining the countertop and you drop it into the liquid, stirring it momentarily before tapping off the excess liquid and placing the spoon into the sink. Glancing back up at him, you take a careful sip from your mug to test the temperature. 

“Good?” He asks, sipping from his own mug slowly. 

“Great.” You confirm, taking a larger sip as you lean your hip against the counter. 

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few long moments, sipping your coffee leisurely before Harry speaks. 

“Do you-” He clears his throat, “Do you want to go sit out on the back deck with our coffee? The weather’s great and the view is phenomenal.” 

He seems slightly more nervous than he had been the day before, most likely due to your brief run in that evening, but you don’t mind. “Yeah, that sounds nice!”

He nods towards the doorway with a smile, waiting for you to take the first step before following behind you through the sliding glass door. There are a few chairs settled around a small, round table, overlooking a breathtaking view of the beach where a few people are getting their morning jog in or just strolling leisurely along the shore. You slide yourself into the furthest chair, careful not to spill the hot coffee in your hand as you do so, watching Harry as he does the same. 

You wonder why, if he was paying for the entire trip, he would choose such a cheap beach house in such a rural part of this particular beach. Seeing as he was a multi millionaire, you’d assume he would choose the most expensive place to stay in the most popular area, but that obviously isn’t the case. Not that you aren’t grateful for staying there for free, because you are, you’re just curious. 

“So,” You begin, sipping your coffee for a moment before continuing. “How’s celebrity life treating you?” 

He chuckles, pushing a hand through his luscious mane, “S’not bad. Been treatin’ me pretty well, I can’t complain.”

You nod, “That’s good, I’m glad to hear it.” Pausing for a moment, you curl your feet beneath you on the chair before speaking again. “Can I ask you something?” 

He glances up from his coffee, raising his eyebrows with a nod, “Sure.” 

You take a breath, aware of the intrusiveness of your question but speaking anyways. “Dee told me you’re paying for all this,” You motion to the house with your hands, “And I’m just wondering why you chose to come here and rent this house when you have the money for something much nicer in a much nicer area.”

He thinks about it for a moment, brows furrowed in thought before he lets out a breathy laugh. “Honestly, there are a few reasons,” He clears his throat and crosses one leg over the other. “The first one is that I’m able to avoid paparazzi, for the most part, because they don’t suspect that I’d ever stay in a place like this,” He explains, using his hands to animate. “And the second one is that I like to make things as normal as possible, especially when I’m spending time with Dee. I know she would absolutely love staying in some bougie mansion with its own private beach, but I just don’t want things to be different from when we were kids, you know? I’d rather her not have the image of me being a rich asshole in her head all the time. I just want her to see me as she always has; her big brother.” 

Your heart flutters in your chest at his sentiment, the reminder of just how much he cares about his family causing certain feelings to come rushing back to you. “I- sorry, I know that was a weird question to ask... but yeah that makes sense. I didn’t really think of it that way.”

Just as you finish speaking, Deidre comes bursting wildly through the sliding glass door in her bathing suit and a large towel draped over her arm. 

“IT’S BEACH TIME, FUCKERS!!” She screams, leaping down the stairs and bolting across the dock leading to the beach. Her bare feet kick up clouds of sand as she runs across the beach, dropping her towel carelessly as she gallops into the water. 

You and Harry look at each other with wide eyes, both of you bursting into a fit of laughter at the same time. You open your mouth to speak, but Deidre beats you to it. 

“COME ON GUYS!! IT FEELS GREAT!”

You look back at Harry again, snickering. “I think we should get out there.”

He hums, “I agree.” 

You both lift yourselves out of the porch chairs, heading into the house to change into your own bathing suits. Harry, of course, offers to take your mug and clean it. 

Around ten minutes pass before you’re finally in your bathing suit stepping out onto the sand with Harry following close behind. Deidre is laying out on the sand with an arm draped over her eyes as she waits for the two of you to arrive. Since it’s still morning, there’s a bit of a nippy breeze to the air, causing goosebumps to litter your skin and shiver to travel down your spine. 

“Finally,” She breathes, pushing herself up from the towel. Harry comes up behind you and drops both of your towels onto the sand beside her along with his book from this morning. 

“S’quite nice out, innit?” He hums, resting his hands against his hips. His hair is pulled back into a bun and he’s wearing the shortest bright yellow swim trunks you’ve ever seen and you can’t help but to giggle a little. 

Deidre rolls her eyes, reaching forward and grasping your arm before dragging you with her towards the water. It’s around 10:00 am and there are a few more people on the beach than there were when you and Harry had first sat on the deck, so when you enter the water, you and Deidre aren’t the only ones there.

Though there are people on the beach, none of them seem to notice that Harry’s there. They’re all caught up in their own vacations, oblivious to the fact that a multi-millionaire celebrity is galloping into the ocean towards you like a child.

You and Deidre screech as he comes toppling into the water head first, cool water splashing around him and onto both of you. The small waves crash into your legs whilst you clamor through the water, Harry surfacing dramatically, completely soaked and absolutely gorgeous. 

“It’s fucking freezing,” You mutter under your breath, wrapping your bare arms around yourself as you trudge deeper into the water. 

“If you get wet, it won’t be as cold.” Harry retorts, adjusting the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. 

You shake your head at him, “You’re insane,” 

Just as you speak those words, Deidre dunks herself completely under water, splashing you once again as she comes back to the surface. 

 Harry chuckles, “C’mon, you’re gonna get wet eventually.”

You ignore the subtle innuendo. “I have no intention of getting in further than here so if you really want me to go under, it’s gonna have to be done by force.”

He cocks an eyebrow from beneath his sunglasses. “Is that a challenge?”

“Don’t even think about it,” You breathe, glaring at him. 

“You really shouldn’t have said that,” Deidre snickers as Harry begins to creep towards you slowly. His eyes are hidden beneath his sunglasses but you can tell his pupils are narrowed in directly on you. 

You step back with every step he takes forward, small waves crashing into the backs of your thighs at the movement of the water. He lifts his arms slightly as he stalks toward you and you squeal, nearly stumbling backwards and toppling back into the cold water. 

“Harry, I swear to god-” You start but you’re quickly interrupted by your own shriek as he tackles you into the water. It feels as though you’ve inhaled gallons of water from the impact once you resurface, sputtering and gasping dramatically. He doubles over with laughter and Deidre cackles a few feet away. You feel like a sad, wet dog standing in the ocean as they laugh at you and you cross your arms over your chest with a huff. “I hate both of you so much.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Oh, come onnnn, it’s not that bad.”

“My nipples could do some serious damage right now,” You growl between chattering teeth and both of them giggle. 

“Well, you’re wet now so there’s no point in not swimming with us.” Deidre shrugs, dipping back under as a wave rolls by.

You stand in silent rage for a few moments, glaring at Harry as he tries in vain not to let his eyes flicker down to your breasts. You don’t notice his eyeline wavering, though, too distracted by the brumal temperature of your body. A particularly nippy breeze attacks your damp skin and you whimper slapping your arms around your chest. 

“I’m going back to the shore. It’s way too cold for this.” You huff, the water sloshing loudly as you begin to traipse back to the shore. 

Harry watches you stumble back onto the soppy sand with a slight smirk on his pink lips and you can hear the low chuckle escape from his chest breathily. You counter his haughty chortle with a middle finger thrown up behind you, eyes trained in front of you to shield your view of him. 

Once you reach the towels you’d set out earlier, you unfold your towel and wrap it around your shoulders before plopping your ass into the sand. The chattering of your teeth subsides after a few moments and you glance to your side to find the book Harry had been reading. Curiosity fills you and you reach over, lifting it from its spot on Harry’s towel and bringing it in front of you to examine it. 

It’s a paperback, the cover an off-white cardstock with a simple design of a bleeding heart, impaled by an arrow on the front. The title reads “The Course of Love, a novel by Alain De Botton” and a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You never would have assumed that he would be such a romantic.

You turn to the first chapter titled “Infatuations”, scanning it briefly and landing on the small, italicized paragraph in the middle that reads, “A marriage doesn’t begin with a proposal, or even an initial meeting. It begins far earlier, when the idea of love is born, and more specifically the dream of a soul mate.” 

“Insightful.” You mutter to yourself, eyebrows raised in understanding before fanning the pages to scour the book further. 

As you scan the blur of pages, you find that there are words scrawled all over the margins of the paper, words frantically underlined like they’d been scribbled whilst he was in a hurry. Your thumb lands approximately a fourth of the way into the book, a small photograph slipping from the spine and into your lap as you open it. It’s a photo of him, Deidre, Gemma (their older sister) and Anne (their mother) all cuddled up together on Anne’s couch with warm smiles on their faces. Their smiles are almost identical to each other as well as their features and, in a way, it comforts you. 

You glance back up from the photo to the page of the book, your eyes immediately landing on an underlined sentence from the italicized section. It reads, “When two people belong together, there is simply--at long last--a wondrous reciprocal feeling that both parties see the world in precisely the same way.” You suck in a breath at the words for a moment but a sudden droplet of water landing on the page pulls you from your stupor.

“I see you’ve found my book,” Harry’s voice belows above you and you snap your head in his direction as he shakes his dripping wet hair. 

You nestling the photo back into the spine of the book before shutting it and smiling up at him sheepishly. “Sorry, I- it was just sitting there and I got curious.”

“S’alright, I don’t mind,” He shrugs, reaching for his towel and wrapping it around himself. “What’d you think?”

“Oh- I only read a couple sentences,” You mutter, tightening the towel around yourself. “But from what I did read, it seemed quite insightful.” 

“Oh, yeah?” He quirks an amused eyebrow at you.

“Yeah,” You chuckle, “Very elegant and sophisticated.” 

“Mmm.” He hums, nodding his head in agreement. 

Your bottom lip slips between your teeth to hold back a grin as you glance away from him towards the water. Your eyes land on a group of people standing around Deidre in the shallow water directly across from you. You frown, “What’s Dee gotten herself into?” 

He takes a swig from the metal bottle of water he’d brought with him before speaking, “Made herself some new friends, I guess.” 

You study them for a moment, watching her laugh heartily at one of the guys’ jokes and pursing your lips together. Wherever the two of you went, she was always capable of making friends. Her natural charm could sweep anyone off their feet and it endlessly left you feeling like an extra wheel. You know she doesn’t mean to leave you out of things, she never has any sort of malicious intent, but you’re both so different from each other that it constantly feels like you’re left in the dust.

You glance away from the group, looking back in Harry’s direction to distract yourself from the intrusive thoughts filling your mind.

 “So, um, what’re your opinions on it?” You start again, clearing your throat quietly. “The book, I mean.”

He smiles as he skillfully tosses his sopping hair into a messy bun, “I like it. S’actually the second time I’ve read it.”

Your eyebrows quirk at that, “Really?”

He nods, tilting his body closer to you and bending one of his legs up against his chest. “Yeah.”

You laugh, “What do you expect from that?” 

“What, like, do I expect it to change?” You nod silently in response and he shrugs. “I mean- no, it’s just… comforting, in a way.” 

“Comforting,” You repeat to yourself. “I guess that makes sense.”

“It also kind of helps me retain the information better, you know?” He continues, mindlessly digging his fingers into the damp sand. 

“Yeah, I understand,” You reply softly, “Do you do that with all the books you read?”

He nods, “More or less.”

There’s an abrupt screech, followed by a few animated giggles and both of you look up at the sound. Deidre is running towards the two of you happily, a wide smile spread across her face as she skids to a stop in front of you. 

“I’m gonna go get lunch with these guys,” She chokes, out of breath from the short jog over. “Do either of you wanna come?”

You glance behind her at the group as they watch her for a moment and then you turn your head back to her. “You go ahead, I think I’ll just stay back here.”

Her expression falls a little and she sighs, turning to Harry with a hopeful look. He looks at you for a moment and then peers back up at her. 

“Think m’gonna do the same. Have fun, though.” He smiles and you nod along with him. 

She sighs again, reaching down and yanking her towel from the sand. “Alright, well, I’m gonna go change and then I’ll be heading out with them for a couple hours.”

You watch as she calls back to them that she’ll “be right back” before galloping back up to the house with her towel dragging behind her. 

“You could’ve gone with them if you wanted to, you know,” You say quietly. “I’m alright by myself.”

He shakes his head, “No, no, s’not really my scene anyways.”

You stay silent after that, watching the repetitive roll of the waves in a mindless state. Deidre returns in a matter of minutes, a loose dress tossed over her bathing suit, her long, dark hair tied into a high ponytail fluttering behind her as she prances. 

“See ya!” She calls after you. 

“Be careful!” You call in response and then she’s gone, engulfed into the group just like she had been before.

AHHHHHF;LSFSDLFJAS;DLKFJSDFK PLS PLS PLS LET ME KNOW WHAT U THINKKKK <33333

taglist: @first-one-that-i-see @harryandthatgayvodka @summertimestyles @bopbopstyles @harrysclementines @emsthoughts @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @clorenafila @harries-gayvodka @dmcupcakexo @glitterwhore @harryspinkshoelace @lovemenowseemenever @happydays @sisters-of-the-mo0n @shut-up-and-smile @fallingslowlyforu @slytherinambitious @moonlightmaliksblog @cocoamoonmalfoy @harryspirate @sunflowers-styles @sunflower6why​ @harrys-bitch​

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Ataraxia (JJK)

Ataraxia: Calmness untroubled by mental or emotional disquiet; Tranquillity of mind.

Part of the Protect the Village! Oneshot Series.

Masterlist

Pairing: PoliceOfficer!Jungkook x Delinquent!Reader

Genre/Warnings: E2L (Enemies to Lovers), angst, fluff, humour, mentions of neglectful parents/childhood neglect, swearing, HPD-like behaviors/destructive attention-seeking behaviors, allusions to anxiety, read with caution on this one!

Note: I would die for RT and TITI :(

Summary: Graffiti isn’t that bad. It’s a misdemeanour in most places. So what if the rookie catches you tagging one night? You’ll wiggle your way out of it like you always do... Right?

Word Count: 5.3k

Semi-Unedited

      Night was when all your ideas came to you. In the late hours where the moon comes out to lull everyone asleep, you wander the night in search of an outlet. Backpack swung over your shoulder, paint cans rattling around, sweatshirt taut to your body to fight off the nighttime chill. You search the tiny village where you spent most of your life for the perfect canvas. 

     The only lights to aid you in your search are the dim lampposts that illuminate the sidewalk, but that doesn’t stop you from finding the jackpot. Blank, empty white wall, vast space to work on, flat. You could feel the anxious desire to pick up your paint cans on the tips of your fingers. Quickly, you put down your backpack and got out your colors. 

      Red, green, yellow, blue, black, pink, purple. All the colors you needed to make a stunning art piece. Sure, the shop owner might not appreciate it, but you only paint pretty things. You may be a “delinquent” but that doesn’t mean you have to spew hate and vulgarity to all of Bangtan Village. 

     What were you feeling tonight? Writing? Animals? Flowers? Flowers. Definitely flowers tonight. Wasting no time, you picked up a can and started spraying. Red here, green there, a bit of pink. You paint and paint and paint. Like your brain is on autopilot, letting your hand do whatever it wants. Left, right, up, down. You watch as your piece comes to life in front of you. Roses, daisies, marigolds. It looks like the garden of your mind. 

     Taking a step back, you admire your work. Clean lines, bright colors, eye-catching. You feel proud. This was better than the sketches. It captured your every breath, every emotion, a true piece of art. You felt at ease looking at the picture of all your pent-up emotions laid bare on the bricks. Expressing the sorrows that plagued your mind through the image of dull, weeping flowers. 

     Sure, it still looked beautiful. When you looked at it as one unit, it was the perfect image to be painted on a flower shop. But if you looked closer, you could see the anxiety in the shaky lines, the sorrow in the dulled colors, the anger in the frenzied coloring. But you didn’t feel like that at the moment. 

     Graffiti was an outlet for you. The ability to get people to pay attention and see what you’ve been trying to get people to see. To show people that you weren’t okay. You wanted someone-anyone- to listen to you, to see you. You wanted someone to look at you and see you as a person who was struggling. Because you really were struggling. 

     Shit parents and anxiety were the things that defined your life. Your life givers made it known to you that they really didn’t care what you did, where you were, who you were with, nothing. They weren’t terrible, luckily enough. They were just neglectful. They forgot you were there half the time, so you had to force yourself to grow up and do things on your own.

     You would cook your own meals, do your own laundry, make your own money. For as long as you remember, you were living as your own person. You brought yourself back up from the depths of panic and kissed your own wounds. You told yourself to suck it up and keep pushing. But soon enough you started to ask yourself exactly why you were still pushing.

    No friends, no family, not even an animal companion could give you the comfort you so desperately sought out for when the thoughts of “why?” clawed at your fragile mind late at night. When you felt like you couldn’t breathe when things went south. You tried. You tried to make friends. You tried to reach out. You tried to get help, but it was all the same. “Your fine, get over it,” Whether those were the exact words or the implied ones, that was the answer everyone gave you. 

“You’re an adult.”

“Everyone feels anxious, you’ll be okay,”

     No matter how hard you tried to use your words, to shout and scream on the rooftops that you needed support, big or small, nobody listened. It’s as the world went deaf to you. Like you were invisible, walking through the streets like a ghost. So you turned to more... Destructive ways of gaining people’s attention.

     Yes, you knew this was wrong. You knew that if you got caught, it would go on your record. But you didn’t care, not at this point. The thought of people seeing this in the morning and thinking about you (Well, not you specifically, but the person who’s been painting the town for months now) Excited you. Having people's attention excited you. Hearing people whisper about the delinquent who's been tagging Bangtan Village left and right made you giddy. Because you had their attention. 

     The sound of heavy footsteps tore through the tranquil bubble you’d put yourself in. “Shit...” You whispered to yourself, grabbing your things and sneaking away from your- admittedly pretty -crime. Because not only did you get the citizen's attention. You got the attention of the police department as well. 

    Steadily, you took silent footsteps as you weaved your way through the back alleys of the main street shops. You could still hear the boot falls of the person making their nightly rounds. Even if they sounded calm. You knew they were looking for you. You knew he was looking for you. 

    You made the haste decision to abandon your bag full of paint cans and respirator behind a dumpster, noting down its whereabouts so you could retrieve it in the morning. You knew that if you got caught with them in your possession, then they would no doubt charge you. So you were left with your sweatshirt and a heartbeat that pounded in your ears. 

      You continued to make your way through the back alley mazes. Navigating them on muscle memory. This wasn’t the first time you’d had to make a silent getaway. You could still hear the footsteps, they were getting heavier. Step... Step... Step... Your anxiety shot through the roof and you wiped your clammy hands on your worn out jeans. 

But then they stopped. 

      There was no more ominous pounding of boots against concrete. Just the ambiance of the crickets chirping their nightly melody. It was calm again. So when you saw an opening out onto the beginning of main street, you breathed a sigh of relief. Home was only a few yards away now. You could go home to your small, dingy apartment and sink into your tiny bed, dreaming of a better life. 

     What world would you escape to tonight? Would you go on your own adventure where your the loved main character? Would you explore what was underneath the sea and discover what laid dormant at the bottom of the ocean? What about dreaming of befriending your favorite comfort characters from your favorite shows? Finally, having friends for once. 

“L/n,”

     You jumped as a voice cut through your train of thought. Looking to your left you saw none other than Jeon Jeongguk leaning against the entrance of the alleyway, giving you a stern face. “Well, isn’t it the rookie? Did they put you on guard dog duty tonight?” You chuckled, regaining your composure and throwing on a mask of confidence. Jeongguk rolled his eyes and stood straight up, towering over you. 

      “What are you doing out so late, L/n?” Jeongguk asked you with a stoic face. “Going for a walk,” You answered, voice unwavering. “Oh really? So you know nothing about the recent act of vandalism on Yoongi’s flower shop, huh?” He tilted his head, talking to you as if you were five. “What? Another tagging? Crazy,” You said, in an feign surprised voice. 

      Jeongguk sighed, stepping away from you. “You’re coming with me, L/n,” Jeongguk deadpanned. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you looked at him incredulously. “What? But I didn’t do anything!” You complained, your poker face unbreaking. “Well, I have reason to suspect you know at least something. So by the laws our government has set up, I get to bring you to the station for questioning,” Jeongguk said in a sing-song voice. 

     “I feel like that’s an abuse of power,” You pointed out, crossing your arms. Jeongguk looked at you, unimpressed. “Public law number 130-13. Any suspect can be put in police custody as long as the officer has circumstantial or physical evidence proving they know or did something.” Jeongguk regurgitated like a parrot. You chucked, “Nerd,” 

     “Whatever, just come on.” Jeongguk groaned, and you reluctantly followed. You knew running would do nothing, it’s a small community, he’d find you in like, 5 minutes. And fighting him? Have you seen Jeongguk? That kid’s all muscle. A total gym rat. He could flick you and you’d get a concussion. You didn’t want to fight him anyway. So you had to follow him, but that didn’t mean you wanted to. 

      “Nice place you got here, Rookie,” You snickered, looking around the relatively small police station. Jeongguk sighed and led you to a small interrogation room. You say “interrogation” like it was intimidating, but nothing’s intimidating about a small room with metal tables and chairs. 

      You sat down on the opposite side of Jeongguk, giving him a smug smirk as he looked at you with disdain. “So... What’s up officer?” You asked, resting your head on the table. “What were you really doing out there, Y/n?” Jeongguk asked, huffing. “Like I said. I was taking a walk. Bangtan Village is nice, ya know?” You restated, not giving up the facade. 

     “I know you did it,” He deadpanned, leaning closer to you. “You see, Rookie... Public law number 130-6. Officers cannot make an arrest without physical evidence or a confession that proves the suspect is guilty without a reasonable doubt,” You stressed the last T, shit-eating grin still on your face. You sounded knowledgeable, but that was the only law you cared to memorize. “Aka. The law don’t give a shit what you think you know,” You sat back up, leaning in your chair. “That law's flawed,” Jeongguk complained. “Take that up with our mayor, Rookie,” 

“You’re insufferable,” Jeongguk spat. 

“I know,” You chuckled. 

      “Why’d you do it? You know canvases exist for a reason, right? Yoongi’s going to pay someone to cover it up.” Jeongguk asked, voice raising a few octaves. “Rookie, buddy, if your fishing for a confession. You ain’t gonna get one,” You snickered, tilting your head in a teasing manner. “Besides, whoever did it-has been doing this-makes pretty good artwork so...” You shrugged. “So you’ve seen the recent tagging on Yoongi’s store?” Jeongguk pried. “I never said that. I’ve seen their other things. Figured the art you're talking about, which I definitely haven’t seen, is just as good.” 

      Jeongguk looked like he wanted to hop across the table and strangle you. It was funny, really. Jeongguk was right, of course he was, but he could never prove it. You didn’t confess to anything, you hid the evidence well, nothing could connect you to the crime. This wasn’t first time Jeongguk tried to pry open your mind and get you to spill out an “I did it,” just to show his hyungs that he really could catch a criminal, just like them. 

Not that you’ll see a bunch of criminals in Bangtan of all places

     The only reason Jeongguk knows it was you (Therefore starting up this hilarious game of cat and mouse,) Was because he knew the kind of person you were. He’s known you since highschool. He would hear whispers in the hall about you and your trusty paint cans, tagging the principal’s prized Chevrolet with the words “Ya mom raised a nerd” because he pissed you off that one time. 

      You got away with it too. The principal never got wind of who did it. Even if everyone at school knew it was you. I mean, come on, who else carried black spray paint in their bookbag? Plus, not a lot of people come to Bangtan, therefore not a lot of delinquents with a taste for artful vandalism existed here. 

     “Listen Rookie, you have no proof that it was me. You interrogated, I answered. Now I get to go home,” You smiled, getting up from your seat. Jeongguk just tsked at you, rolling his eyes at your “friendly” wave goodbye. “Nerd,” You chuckled to yourself, skipping out of the police department. 

Today couldn’t get any worse.

     “But I already finished the piece! My policy states that the down payment isn’t refundable!” You let out a frustrated groan as the lady on the other side of the line complained that your policy was unreasonable and she should get her $150 dollars back because she wasn’t interested in the china set she commissioned from you anymore.

“Look, I don’t care what happened on your end. At the end of the day, I told you it wasn’t refundable, and you still paid it. You agreed to it. So either I can send you the set and you pay the rest of the amount we agreed on. Or I keep the $150, and you have no custom china set,” 

      Guess she really didn’t want that china set, since she huffed and said, “Fine, keep the damn glass,” Which set you off more because china is made of kaolin and quartz, delicately painted with subtle details. Not! Glass! It didn’t help that bills were coming up and you were tight on money this month. 

     Being a freelance artist is unstable. You knew this. You knew that there were other professions that you could throw yourself into that would give you a more stable form of income. But it would also chip away at your spirit. You loved painting, you loved pottery, you loved making porcelain. 

      Now you were stressed, anxious, and the owner of a china set fit for a 50-year-old lady. You wanted to cry. You felt like sobbing. What were you supposed to do now? The only other commission you had was a landscape portrait that costed only $160, and with bills coming you’d have like $60 to spend on food. 

      You covered your face with your hands as you started to breathe erratically. It felt like the walls were closing in on you. Like a snake was curling its way up your body and squeezing your throat. Shakily, you stood up on your wobbly legs and grabbed your bag full of spray paint that you recovered earlier in the day. You needed your outlet. 

      You ran out into the chilly night air, making your way towards main street to find something to paint your frustrations on. You needed to calm the sickly feeling that bubbled up in your throat, to throw water on the fire in the pit of your stomach that urged you to scream into the woods that surrounded the village. 

      Finally, you made it to an empty wall. The one on the side of “Kim’s Confections” that you painted a week ago. The owner painted over your image of the night sky, you guessed. It didn’t matter though, you were too focused on ripping open your bag and pulling out your paints. 

      What were you feeling tonight? Red. Okay, what’s red? Apples, flowers, fire. Fire, that’s it. What else... What does fire do? It burns. Yeah, lets burn shit. What shit are we burning? Uhh... Flowers? That works... 

      You quickly picked up your red paint can and started spraying. You had no idea what you were doing, this wasn’t in your sketchbook. This was purely a product of the emotions currently plaguing your mind. You could already tell it was going to be ugly... It looked like chaos incarnate, but it was an accurate picture of what you were feeling. 

    You furiously painted the wall with blobs of different colors that weren’t mixing well at all. Like yes, green and red are contrasting opposites, but they don’t mix well. And what was pink doing next to a neon orange? You didn’t know, you barely even cared.

However, you did care when you heard those same familiar footsteps. 

     “Why today, Jeon?” You huffed, packing your things and running off into the back alleys. What you didn’t expect was for the footsteps to start running with you. Panicking, you ran faster, focusing more on getting away than where you were going. 

     They were getting louder and louder, closer and closer. “Shit,” You whimpered to yourself when you came upon a dead end. The familiar feeling of tears pricked up in the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Thump... Thump... Thump... You refused to turn around to face the last person you wanted to see today. 

     “Well, we meet again L/n,” Jeongguk’s voice echoed off the bare brick walls. You said nothing, opting to continue looking at the wall in front of you. “Come on, L/n, it’s time to give it up,” He sighed, taking a few steps closer. “I know,” You whispered out, feeling the dread creep into your mind at the thought of your only outlet being taken away. 

Scratch that, today could get worse. 

      “I see you’ve got this place nice a cozy for me, Rookie,” You chuckled, holding onto the cell bars with two hands, trying to hide the fear you felt inside, the anguish. Like always, Jeongguk just rolled his eyes, laying back in the chair at his desk while he wrote up a report. 

      Jeongguk said nothing to you as the hours dragged on, and that made the situation worse. You would poke fun at him, call his name, you even asked how his day was. Nothing. You felt invisible all over again, and it made you even more scared. It was like you were that naïve six-year-old girl again, begging for an ounce of her parents' attention.

“Mom, I made you this today,”

“Dad, there's a father-daughter dance at school this Friday,”

Nothing. 

It was always nothing. 

     Because even if there was another body in the room, you felt alone again; you felt pathetic. Unwanted, unheard. At times like these you would paint a gigantic mural on the side of someone’s business on main street, but now you can’t. That’s what got you in this mess in the first place. All you wanted was somebody’s eyes on something that was you, whether that be your work or your features, and now that was yanked from your grasp.

      After this you couldn’t spray paint anymore, because then the entire police department would watch you like a hawk. Nobody would whisper about the mysterious pretty painting in the street anymore. And Jeongguk wouldn’t be the cat chasing the mouse anymore. 

      Jeongguk suddenly put his pen down with a huff, the action much louder in the quiet police station than it would be in a normal setting. “So, Y/n, I know you're not dumb. You’re obviously under arrest for vandalism. And with the severity and amount you committed, there's a $300 fine and a week of jail time,” Jeongguk explained, sounding bored. 

      Your eyes widened. “What? A week of jail time?” You exclaimed, feeling your heart drop. “Yep,” Jeongguk confirmed, popping the p. “No... No, Rookie, you can’t do this...” You whimpered out, trying to calm your breathing. You saw a look of sadness flash in Jeongguk’s eyes before he returned to a stoic state. “You’re the one who committed the crime, Y/n,” He stated, messing around with some papers. 

“Jeongguk please,” You begged, using his actual name for the first time since highschool. 

    Jeongguk paused, his back turned towards you and hand frozen in the motion of putting away a file. He took a deep breath and continued his movements. Going back to ignoring you. You felt dejected, so you gave up and slumped onto the small bed in the cell's corner. Just as you were about to close your eyes, you heard the slap of a book on the floor. 

     You looked over your shoulder to see Jeongguk at the door of your cell, giving you a tight smile. On the floor was what looked to be a sketchbook and some pencils. Cautiously, you got up from the bed and grabbed them, giving Jeongguk a curious look. 

“It’ll be okay,” He said. 

      Over the next few days, life fell into a routine. You would wake up, Jeongguk would give you breakfast, and you would draw in between meals. Nothing else. Sometimes you would try to strike up conversation with the stubborn police officer who kept you company most days, but he would either stay silent or reply with one-word answers. So you quickly gave up on that. 

      Sooner or later, the sorrow you felt turned into bitterness. You were mad at yourself, mad at the world, mad at Jeongguk. A week in jail? What was that supposed to do? Teach you a lesson? As if. If anything, it just made you want to do more illegal things as a big “Fuck you,” To the officers who walked past your cell with looks of pity on their faces. 

     Yes, people in Bangtan were overly nice, and no, you didn’t need their pity. You survived on your own long enough without anyone’s pity, so you didn’t need it now, when you were already fucked up. Where was this kindness when you cried to the school counselor about your home situation and she sent you away with the excuse that you were “Pms’ing” and “It wasn’t that bad” 

    You felt this boil in you every night and through the day. And it was still boiling in you when Jeongguk set you free and paid your fine. (Which made you angrier cause now your set back on bills AND food) “Don’t get into trouble,” Was the last thing he said to you. You knew his words should’ve made you angry, but knowing that you wouldn’t see him every day now made you... Sad...

      The world felt cold... Colors seemed to dull and noise seemed to be muffled everywhere you went. You felt, empty. Alone. Sad. You felt like you didn’t have a purpose now that you caught up on all your commissions and going out spray painting the town was an even more risky thing to do. On the bright side, you were able to pay your bills. 

      But that didn’t help the dread you felt when you woke up every single day. The bitterness was still there, but now it was buried with dread and trepidation. Sometimes the fire of your anger would burn bright, sometimes it was just embers. The intense mood swings you were feeling gave you emotional whiplash, and all you wanted to was lay in bed all day. 

“It’ll be okay,” 

     Jeongguk saying those words to you swirled in your head daily. They never left. Not since he first said that. You could hear the slight accent in his voice and see the slight squint in his nose when he speaks. That’s what fueled your fire the most. He did nothing for you. Why are you giving him the time of the day? He locked you up. 

     But there was also this voice that reminded you of the playful bickering the two of you shared, the sparks in your eyes when the two of you looked at each other, your game of cat and mouse. It told you that if you tried, maybe he could be your friend. Maybe he could help you. He’s a police officer, he’d want to help anyone... Right?

But if he wanted to help you, why would he lock you in a jail cell?

   That bitterness and conflict in your mind led you here, to an empty wall. Why were you here? Why did you have a spray paint can in your hand? Why were you painting again? Why Y/n, why? No matter how loud the angel on your shoulder screamed at you to go home, do something better with your life, be something better. It fell on deaf ears. 

      Not even the crickets were chirping as those boot falls made their way towards you. Nothing but the spray of your paint and the thud of Jeongguk’s steel-toed boots fill the surrounding night. Jeongguk only sighed in disappointment when he saw you standing there. Waiting for you to turn to him before he said anything. 

      “Isn’t it the Rookie...” You muttered. The same teasing words were there, but they lacked the enthusiasm. “What are you doing, Y/n?” Jeongguk asked, still sounding very unimpressed. 

“Your smart Rookie, what does it look like I’m doing?” 

“What I told you not to do,”

“Ding ding! We have a winner,” You exclaimed sarcastically. 

“Did you really not learn your lesson?”

     You scoffed, “Learn my lesson?” You stopped painting and turned towards Jeongguk. “Learn my lesson? What exactly did you do to teach me a lesson?” You scowled. “Was a week in jail not enough?” He retorted, and you felt yourself boil over.

      “Listen here, Jeon. Do you know what that week really did to me? It made me bitter. It made me feel like shit, like I was back living with my parents,” You spat. Jeongguk’s face fell at the mention of your parents. He knew what you went through, everyone knew. Bangtan was a small village, after all. “I mean come on, you really think locking me up behind bars is going to change me? Look at where I am Jeon! In the same goddamn alley doing the same shit cause I didn’t learn my lesson!” You ranted, and you felt tear prick at the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t stop them from overflowing this time. 

      “Police officers are supposed to help people, ya know. You don’t just catch criminals, you should help them. You wanna know the best way to prevent people from becoming re-offenders? Helping them!” You cried, throwing your paint can on the ground. “But no, you just care about handing in that report, huh? You caught me! Now you want nothing to do with me! I get it Jeon, really. Nobody wants anything to do with me...” You sniffled, feeling your anger dissipate. 

     Jeongguk looked like a kicked puppy. He didn’t know what to do when you started crying, but he knew that he needed to do something. “Y/n...” He said, reaching out for you, but you backed away. “Don’t... Just go away,” You said, but you didn’t really mean it. No, you wanted Jeongguk to come closer, to help you, to tell you it was okay again. Luckily, he understood that. 

      While you were wiping the tears away from your face, Jeongguk pulled you into a hug. At first you struggled, trying your best to get away from the muscle bunny, but soon you relented, falling into the comfort that his muscular arms offered you. “I’m sorry,” He whispered to you, squeezing you tight. “You’re right, I should be helping. Let me start by helping you,” 

    You sniffled, pulling away from his chest to look up at him. “Help me? I’m a lost cause,” You croaked, but Jeongguk shushed you, pulling you back in. “My friend goes to this therapist, he says they’re great, maybe they can help you,” He offered. 

“Maybe they can,” 

      “You're a pain in my ass, you know that Hobi?” You groaned, squinting at the laughing red-head who was currently sitting across from you in your studio. “But it’s too funny. I mean, a delinquent falling in love with a police officer? A classic,” He teased. You just rolled your eyes, bringing your focus back to the pot you were working on. “I’m not in love,” You retorted. 

      Hoseok snickered, “You remember what Dr. Choi said about lying to ourselves?” You wanted to strangle the shit-eating grin he had on his face, but you opted to huff and show your disdain instead. “Sometimes I wish you weren’t in my group therapy sessions,” You complained, but that smile never left Hoseok’s face. 

      After that night in the alley with Jeongguk, he lived up to his words. He introduced you to your current therapist Dr. Choi and got you the help you needed. Soon enough, you were slowly getting better. Your desire for graffiti slowly dissipated, and you opted for a canvas. It was easier to sleep at night, and Dr. Choi introduced you to a support group. Which is how you met your friend, Hoseok. 

      But Jeongguk still stuck with you. He would check up on you every day and keep you company when he had the time. Recently he’s been showing up at your place with cupcakes from Taehyung’s bakery, (You recently learned his name and he admitted your paintings were cool, but they didn’t fit his aesthetic) Sometimes you’d even visit the station, dropping off lunch for him. 

    Jeongguk and you became quick friends. Besides the ironic differences between the two of you, you also had a lot in common. You’d have movie/video game nights, sometimes you’d let him paint with you, he even introduced you to his other friends (All six of them,) Outside of work, he let down the intimidating police man facade and became a lovable bunny. 

Maybe a bit too loveable, since you seemed to like Jeongguk a bit too much these days. 

    “How would I even tell him? “Hey! It’s me, Y/n! Delinquent turned mural artist who has a huge crush on you! The police officer who arrested me and put me in jail!” Ha, no.” You dramatically exaggerated with your hands. “Oh come on Y/n! He’s pining over you too!” Hoseok said, trying (and failing) to convince you. “Didn’t you write that love letter to him? Why not give him that?” Hoseok suggested. You immediately cringed, hiding your face in your hands. “No way, that’d be so embarrassing,”

“So your saying that if I ran over to the police station with this slip of paper and handed it to Jeongguk you’d never forgive me?” Hoseok asked, holding up the infamous love letter you wrote for Jeongguk 3 weeks ago.

“You wouldn’t dare,” You glared at him.

“Y/n... You’ve been debating telling him for months...” Hoseok groaned, “Maybe you just need a little... Push!” He said, jumping out of his seat and running out the door. 

      “Jung Hoseok, I’m going to kill you!” You yelled, running after him. Unfortunately he was like, 90% legs so it was hard to even keep a foot’s distance between the two of you. “Hobi! He’ll hate me!” You whined, huffing a puffing. You really needed to get back in shape. “No he won’t! He literally talks about you all the time! I’m doing you idiots a favor!” Hoseok yelled back, bursting his way into the police station. 

    “Jeon Jeongguk!” Hoseok called, getting weird looks from the other officers. Jeongguk’s head popped up from his desk and he got up to see what his friend wanted. Not before you tackled Hoseok to the ground, however. The paper flew out of Hoseok’s hand as he fell to the ground with an “Oof”

      Jeongguk looked at the two of you with a smile, choking down his laughs as he picked up the paper. “Don’t read it!” “Read it!” You and Hoseok said at the same time. But Jeongguk’s nosy self had already opened it and was reading the words. You groaned and hid your face in Hoseok’s shoulder out of embarrassment. Jeongguk just chuckled, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek. “Let’s go to dinner after I’m done here, yeah?” He said, giving you a wink as he walked away. 

“What just happened,” You asked, putting your hand up to your cheek. 

“You just started a new chapter in your life. This one titled “Me and Jeongguk, the most cliche shit I’ve ever seen,” Hoseok smiled, patting your head.

“Shut up... I got a mural to spray paint,”

[theclassycandy]

Fluff Alphabet - Beckett x Anna

Word Count (Including the questions): 2075

A/N: Hi friends! I just really wanted to manifest the fluff energy into something! Some of these are are lot longer than others. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Tags: @miss-smrxtiee , @holystxne, @adam-dumortains , @herarmoredheart , @ilikeyellingatmyscreen

Tell me if you want to be tagged for future fics/headcanons about TE!

A = Attractive (what do they find attractive about the other?)- Anna and Beckett love everything about each other, but if you would force them to pick their favorite Beckett would say her duality. It may sound weird but Anna is optimistic, a very sunny person in real life. She loves how happy and loved she makes him feel simply by existing. Though, one time he had walked in Anna’s meeting room during a company-wide crisis and Anna had the poise, eloquence, intelligence and leadership skills to get the job done under an excruciating amount of stress. This stunned Beckett (and left him very turned on) of Anna’s stature that demands respect; he always knew that she’s a force of nature when she needs to be. For what Anna loves about Beckett, she would say his passion. His passion for his career. His passion for awards. His passion and ambition. His passion for her. His passion wanting to be a better man. Even his passion when they’re in bed...

B = Baby (do they want a family? why/why not?)- 100000% yes. Beckett would absolutly love being a father of Anna’s children. Anna has wanted to be a mother for as long as she could remember. Especially since she really wants a family of her own with Beckett.  

C = Cuddle (how do they cuddle?)- They like cuddling whenever they need to when they’re alone. But they like to do it best naked in bed, after doing something sexual. Anna loves to intertwine her legs with Beckett's legs and laying her head on Beckett’s chest, giving him kisses right above his heart. Beckett loves wrapping his arms around her, cradling Anna’s head and lovingly kissing the top of her head. 

D = Dates (what are dates with them like?)- Before they graduated they’re dates were low-key but still filled with love. But since they’ve become public figures and the public eye is always on them, they have more high-class, really expensive dates. Though whoever is the one responsible for planning the date they’ll make some sort of extra mile to make their dates special. 

E = Everything (“you are my ____” (e.g my life, my world…))- For Beckett, Anna calls says “you’re the love of my life” to Beckett. For Anna, Beckett would say “you’re my amazing sunshine” to her and whenever they say that to each other the break out in loving and wide smiles.

F = Feelings (when did they know they were falling in love?)- Beckett can’t pinpoint exactly when he fell in love with Anna since it’s probably like, before their first year of Penderghast ended. The word “love” first came to mind when he thought of Anna when they played hooky and skipped class (book 2 chapter 6) but quickly extinguished the thought out of fear that she probably thinks of him as just a friend with benefits. He remembers wanting to say it for the first time when Kane had kidnapped Anna and he was desperate to make a portal to her no matter if it killed him. For Anna she knew she loved him the moment he called out Kane after one of his minions put an illusion spell on her and Beckett went all ‘over-protective boyfriend’ (book 2 chapter 9) and they weren’t even dating at the time!

G = Gentle (are they gentle? If so, how?)- One of the biggest reasons why Beckett fell for Anna is because she is a great listener and very empathetic when it came to his family issues (like in book 2 chapter 2 when Beckett was upset because of Katrina’s professor position). Her kindness and gentle nature towards not just him, but to others makes his heart flutter every time, often caught staring at her in amazement. Beckett, on the other hand isn’t the most gentle person to others. But Anna feels special, knowing she’s the only person on this planet who sees Beckett’s thoughtful, sweet and romantic side. The way he cups her face and gazes in her eyes, how much effort he puts into their dates, the way he worships her with even the smallest of touches. Anna absolutely loves this incredible man that she’s fallen for, and at various times wonders what she did to deserve him. 

H = Hand/Hold (how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?)- They hold hands whenever they can. When they go out on family dinners, especially Anna’s family they’ll joke it’s glued together. For Beckett’s family, since most of his family gathering are fucking full-on galas, the extended family will sometimes gossip about them. They’re really excited for Anna to join the family but that’s mostly because of her luxurious and and elegant public image and the prestige she’ll bring to the family name, they do know that she makes Beckett happy, though. 

I = Impression (first impression/s)- As we all know, Beckett was really fucking rude when they first met, and Anna hated him. For Beckett he was obviously rude, but he was secretly intimidated by her, because her could feel her magickal potential the moment she landed on campus. If only they knew back then how much they would mean to each other later in life...

J = Joker (are they into pulling pranks?)- They actually don’t play pranks on each other at all but Anna jokes around with him constantly. Beckett adores Anna’s sense of humour and that he can make him feel better and laugh even on the most stressful of days. Though, Anna plays pranks on the rest of the PendPals, even after their graduation! Beckett says “I’m opposed to joining in on this nonsense” but let’s honest, Anna is his biggest weakness so he’ll join and help her and even get a laugh form it himself. 

K = Kisses (how do they kiss?)- They kiss whenever they want to want. Whether it be a quick kiss when the other needs to leave or kissing like their lives depend on it, pushing each other on the nearest surface, getting their clothes off. They’re both amazing kissers. They both love when they lose their inhibitions and they kiss. The moans, the tiny gasps and gripping each other’s clothes. 

  L = Love (who says I love you first?)- Beckett said “I love you” first on their last day of their second year at Penderghast. He couldn’t keep it in anymore and he needed to say before they parted for summer break again. Anna was overjoyed that Beckett said the 3 little words and when she said them back, the both of them felt both elated and sad. Elated because they confessed their immense for each other and sad because they had to leave for summer break the next day. 

M = Memory (their favourite moment together)- I don’t think they’ll be able to choose, so I’m just gonna list them. 

- The first time they slept together (book 1 chapter 15)

- When Beckett healed Anna after falling in the mirror dimension (book 1 chapter 11)

- Anna’s birthday (book 1 chapter 14)

- When Anna came to visit Beckett in the medical ward (book 2 chapter 12) 

- When they said I love you to each other for the first time (book 2 chapter 17)

N = Nickel (do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?)- People ask “would you rather sentimental gifts or expensive gifts?” but for Anna and Beckett; who are some of the most richest and most famous people in the world, why not both? Anna likes to design luxury watches for Beckett every once in a while for a gift with loving messages engraved inside. Beckett loves gifting her experience, like trips all over the world on Anna’s private jets. 

O = Orange (what colour reminds them of their other half?)- Yellow, gold and light pink remind Beckett of Anna, because yellow and gold represent sunlight and Anna’s Beckett sunshine. And light pink because it’s Anna’s favorite colour. Gray, sliver and dark blue remind Anna of Beckett. Dark blue because that was the colour of Becket’s blazer when they were in college. Silver reminds her of his metal attunement and gray is the colour of his deep eyes. 

  P = Pet names (what pet names do they use?)- They will call each other baby, sweetie, sweetheart or call each other they’re last names. After they got married Anna’s full name is now Anna Yoon-Harrington but they both love it when Beckett just calls her Mrs. Harrington. (Beckett gets really horny when Anna calls him Mr. Harrington in bed but you didn’t hear that from me...) 

Q = Questions (what are the questions they’re always asking?)- They will often ask each other how much they love each other and what they love about each other. Sometimes they’ll ask each other when they’re just relaxing together, when the other is feeling down, or just because! They love being in love with each other. 

R = Rainy Day (what do they like to do on a rainy day?)- They’ll just stay inside and have a low-key night with each other, get some takeout, and watch some TV. They might get some work in and maybe even workout together but Anna bought her own personal gym for more intense exercises and Beckett does very calming yoga. 

S = Sad (how do they cheer themselves/each other up)- Beckett will wrap her up in his arms and comforts her, saying that he loves her and that she’ll be able to figure it out. When Beckett feels sad, Anna will just be near him in case he wants to talk about it. She’ll cook one of his favorite meals or order something. They both also love comfort, loving sex to make the both of them feel better. 

T = Talking (what do they love to talk about?)- Beckett loves talking about his studies and new discoveries in his research. He owns one of the biggest and technologically-advance research centres in the world. Anna often visits him, whether it’s because she misses him or because of work, since the both of them are in science but Beckett advances magick (mostly ward and portal magick) and Anna is in tech. But above all, his favorite thing to learn is all about Anna. Learning about her makes him so happy, wanting to memorise and learn everything about her. What she loves, what her plans are for the future and what makes her happy. 

U = Unencumbered (what helps them relax? Include a headcanon!)- For the both of them, the others mere presence is enough to comfort them, even if they’re even not talking. When they were seniors in Penderghast, Beckett had his finals and he was beyond stressed. But when Anna sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around neck and laid her head on his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her waist, he had never been so calm during studying! 

  W = Wedding (when, how, where do they propose?)- Beckett proposes on one of their international dates about a year and a half after they graduate. (They’ll both be around 23-24) He’s kind of scared because they’re both so young but deep down in his heart, Anna and him being soulmates is a 10000000% certainty. (I might do a wedding/proposal fic in the future!) 

X = Xylophone (what’s their song?)- “Can’t Help Falling in Love” is their song. One time Anna sang the song softly when she thought he was asleep while she was caressing his cheek but he could hear her singing the entire time. Beckett had never heard such a beautiful and ethereal-sounding voice.  

Y = You’re the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)- Beckett said “You’re the key to my heart” once to Anna, not realizing how cheesy it is so Anna will repeat it from time to time, as a way to tease him. But in reality, her heart absolutely melts and she breaks out into such a large smile that her jaw starts to hurt every time she thinks of it. 

Z = Zebra (if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?)- Anna’s lumien, Solar, already lives with them though Anna would love a small kitten. Solar and Navi (Atlas’ familiar) already have play mates every time Anna and Atlas meet. 

That’s the end for the fluff alphabet! I hope you enjoyed it!

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [01]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, mentions of smut in future chapters w.c; 2.7k a/n; after spending an entirety of june on this fic im proud to release it! this story is based on the prompt “I’m losing my mind!” for @btsghostiewritersnet​ BGW Bingo Bash! I hope you all enjoy this mini series and stay tuned for this wild ride

[01] [02] -> masterpost

“Just give it up!” Jungkook snaps, and you flinch at the sudden raise in voice level. Jungkook is a soft spoken person, only really having the audacity to speak up at the strength of his friends or when his body burns with attention after a performance. The fact that he chooses to use this tone around you, gets you seeing white hot. 

“How can I give up something that hasn’t even started?” you shoot back just as stubbornly. He won’t even let you in his room, and it pains you that he wants to fight out in the hallway where anyone could walk in and see. You glare at the heavy arms that bar your way inside, as if he’s creating a barrier for you, both emotionally and physically.

You hate this. For the past three months you’ve hated this version of yourself, manifested between the strained relationship of you and Jungkook. It pains you to see each other like this. Jungkook’s ears are tinged red with fever, simultaneously a little sick and a little annoyed at the fact that you wouldn’t let up. 

It wasn’t always mismatched stares and bouts of mixed signals whenever you two entered a room. There was a time when it being in each other’s presence was like a breath of fresh air, a bakery full of nothing but sweets and mouth-watering confections. That’s not to say that your relationship with Jungkook was, or is easy. After all, Jungkook chose a life that is never meant to be easy, no matter how far deep. 

But at the crux of everything, deep in your gut, you know that the both of you have that spark. 

“We can’t be together.” Jungkook states simply, pressing his coral lips together in a thin line. “My career! The traveling, the media, my crazy schedule, all of this, it doesn’t match.” 

It doesn’t match. Like the way a toddler puts a triangle block in a square space. In your opinion Jungkook is pointing out shallow, baseless reasons. You’ve gotten this far together, not quite addressing any officiality but leading to it. If all of his reasons really mattered, you wouldn’t be here right now. Unfortunately, Jungkook’s deciding to cut the line when the two of you have already sunk so deep. 

You’re both hurting, Jungkook doesn’t want to admit that. 

“But that doesn’t matter to me!” you reason, and you’re crumbling. Jungkook was once a fighter, too. Today, it feels like it’s just you who’s taking a stand, grappling on thin slices of thread that resemble what little confidence Jungkook has in the both of you. “I want to keep you grounded. I want to be the person you come home to.” 

Jungkook’s face reaches the final boss: a frustrating shade of scarlet, stunned at how shameless you are. You didn’t care, you know what you and Jungkook feel for each other is real. 

In a fit of emotion your hands reach for the crook of his elbow, grappling the black fabric between your fingers. It’s enough to ignite heat in your veins, starved of touch from so many nights apart and text messages that weren’t enough to convey how you truly felt. 

Jungkook’s eyes drag from your grip to your face, eyes glimmering. You look so small in the large hallway, empty and echoing between both your heaving breaths. There’s acute control in his expression, as if he’s grappling to reach both an inner and outer peace with himself. 

You bite your lip, sealing away your whimper of protest as he takes his hand in yours, untacking your grip. He’s not rough, but not gentle either as your hand pendulums to your lap. 

He turns his back to you, and for the first time you’re glad he looks away because the tears have already fallen. “Maybe in another world, we’d work out. But not this one.” Jungkook whispers, slamming the door to his studio. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

“Baby, it’s okay! You’ll find a new person to love!” The neverending flow of liquor and poetics is provided by none other than Sehlyung, a fellow employee you befriended after you got hired as a language teacher. 

You barely register Sehlyung’s hopeful smile through your misty eyes. Feeling bloated with liquid and far too tired to reply, you bob your head against the bar table. 

Sehlyung is the epitome of a fun time, and the first person you thought of to help quell your aching heart. A relationship that first started off as snide jokes and offhanded work qualms that eventually turned into a deep understanding and care for each other. After a long day of work she pulled through for you, showing up at the bar like a warrior in emerald green pencil slacks and an untucked blouse. At the edge of the bar she absentmindedly winds a lock of pale curly hair, sipping languidly from her electric blue beverage. 

“Listen, I get it. You think it’s the end of the world because Jungkook seems like the perfect catch—” the pretty blonde pauses when she notices your lip tremble, “but! He’s not that perfect, y’know. He—he sweats, sweats a lot, it’s like he’s freakin’ Niagara! It takes forever to get outfits on him in-between sets, it’s like clothing a wet noodle.” 

You choke back a laugh, shaking your head. “That is one flaw.” 

“A-and he’s very,” she starts waving her hands around, plucking the answer out of thin air, “competitive? Remember that one time Nabi said he couldn’t finish that whole loaf of milk bread? And then he accidentally ended up eating the parchment paper?” 

That has you in a fit of giggles, recalling how scared he was when his urge to make Nabi regret her words bit him right back in the butt. The hospital’s personal phone became number 8 on his speed dial shortly after. 

A fond, tentative smile melts on Sehlyung’s lips. At least you had it in in you to laugh, which Sehlyung knows is a good sign. She runs her fingers over your hair, forehead damp from your previous wallowing and overconsumption. ”You’re gonna find yourself a simple, wholesome partner! One who’s top-tier normie and will have all the time in the world for you!” 

You grimace at the thought, despite how uplifting that sounds. You once thought that was the only life for you, a nuclear family with two point five kids (the half point being a puppy, of course.) While you wouldn’t mind that kind of life, after meeting Jungkook you decided long ago that all you ever needed in a relationship was his company and combined happiness. 

“Time isn’t the issue,” you slur, voice warped from how your lips fall tiredly against your arm. “This issue is that he doesn’t want to try.” 

Sehlyung doesn’t say anything to that, but instead prefers to pour you another glass of liquid despair. Of course, she knew how Jungkook got. Sweet and caring, but headstrong, letting nothing get in the way of his music. 

Evidently, you’re one of those things. 

“Boys are dumb,” she says simply, swinging her head back. 

“I’ll be okay,” you murmur, “it just hurts. There’s no closure, y’know? I feel it, I feel so much love for him. And I know he feels, he feels something.” 

Sehlyung bites her lip, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey, I got you a gift.” 

That gets you to perk up, your head tipping a miniscule degree. She pulls out a glass, filled with a clear liquid. It’s small, almost vial-shaped, enough for barely two shots. Inside, there’s a young flower shaped like a bellsprout. 

“It’s angel wine,” she chirps, pulling your shot glass to give you a hearty pour. “The old lady was selling it when I was getting my mom her ginger wine.” 

“Hm, is it like ginseng?” you ask curiously, grabbing the now half-empty bottle where the wet flower sat. The bell shape, despite being bloated with residual wine, still clung vibrantly to the glass. The bumblebee yellow and sunset orange tint looking absolutely mesmerizing. However, you’ve never seen an infused liquor quite like this. 

“Think so,” Sehlyung shrugs, “I’m sure you’ll like it though! I told her about how you got dumped and she said you’d need this to cap off your night!” 

She snatches the bottle from your hands, making sure it’s sealed tight before slipping into your purse. “That wine’s special, baby,” she winks, “save it for yourself when you get home, alright?” 

“Gee, Lyungie,” you deadpan, swirling the fragrant liquid, “I’m so glad my boy drama is spreading to your wine dealer.” 

Your friend holds her own drink in a toast, urging you to drink up. You don’t need to be told twice, the floral liquid going down surprisingly smooth. It’s sweet, and your whole body tingles. It’s like the feeling of being outside, and the sun shines over your exposed skin like a warm kiss. For a brief moment, you feel like you’re seeing pink and orange, blissfully satiated. 

“Mm,” you hum, licking your lips in hopes the feeling will return to you, “that’s some good stuff, got anymore?” 

Sehlyung scoffs, only mildly jealous that you get that particular drink all to yourself. “I wish. An arm and a leg cost me that, my hometown is very far!” 

The rest of the night is a haze, a comfortable one. Sehlyung goes off about Namjoon and his countless wardrobe malfunctions, keeping her from going home on time one way too many nights. You talk about how you’re getting into real progress with Soobin’s English, and how he doesn’t complain his head hurts when he speaks in full sentences. Hopefully he isn’t too mad when you send him a pop quiz next Tuesday. 

Sehlyung’s cab drops you off first, and she bids you a hug and kiss goodbye. She tells you to come a little early before your first class, because she wants to redesign Seokjin’s blazer for a new shoot and she wants you to pick out the best crystals. 

You know she just wants to show off and that your opinion is minimal because most of the decisions are made weeks before, but the gesture is appreciated. From Sehlyung’s knowing gaze, you have a feeling that she’s also doing this because she wants to keep you at arm’s length for as long as possible. 

The cab zips away first, leaving you in front of your apartment complex. You’re teetering on your heels like an infant, and you’re surprised that you managed to fake-sober this far into the night. 

Speaking of. It’s beautiful outside. With a tired sigh, you wrap yourself further into your burgundy knitted scarf, begging for warmth. You feel a fresh bout of tears surfacing as you look onto the pale yellow moon, shrouded by thick ghosty clouds among the starless sky. You wonder if Jungkook is looking at the same moon, thinking the same thing. 

You shake your head and wipe your tears, absolving you of that romantic notion. Jungkook hasn’t had the time to look at the stars in so long. You imagine he’s probably either working or sleeping soundly in his bunk, completely oblivious of the semi-depressing night you’ve had. You don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse that Jungkook doesn’t have the opportunity to dwell on feelings for too long. 

The midnight sky starts to flicker, as if night and day are competing for dominance. Either that, or it’s really late in the night and early in the day. Your vision starts to blur, and you wonder if the secretary at the front desk would be so kind as to help you up to your apartment. It’s embarrassing, but it’s better than you cracking your skull open in the middle of the hallway where anyone can find you. You clutch your head, bemoaning on how much alcohol must be running through your blood if you’re hallucinating this much. 

Wiping your bleary face, you dig into your purse for your keys. Upon pulling out the key your favorite lip balm rolls onto the street. A little part of you feels like leaving it behind so you can get to bed, but it’s your favorite one and you are so close to finishing it. Muttering a curse at the thought of bending down at the possibility of you vomiting in public, you quickly scramble to the ground. Your knees buck at the pavement, tiny stones digging into your skin. Focusing your gaze on the pink and blue plastic, you reach for the glittery tube. 

Unfortunately, you’re not quick enough to notice the moving truck swerve the corner and skid towards your body. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

The first thing you notice is that it’s unbearably bright. Like when you vegetate in a dark classroom watching a movie, and the teacher suddenly flips the lights on without warning and your brain panics from the shock. 

You’re also painfully sober, as if you didn’t have a liquor-based dinner. Your bladder doesn’t feel like a small child is sitting on it, and you’re wide awake. 

Someone’s yelling at you, their voice shrill from emotion yet gravely from the early morning. Suddenly there’s a whip of hot air against your hair and a harsh skid as the smell of tire on gravel fills your nose. You’re on sensory overload, and you don’t have the capacity to care about your surroundings. 

This is probably the third time you have to mentally repeat to yourself that it’s daytime, the sun shining brightly on your fallen form. Your body is splayed out in a half-starfish position, and you quickly close your legs in fear of someone seeing up your skirt. You put up a hand to cover your face, and it’s instantly snatched up by a larger one. 

“Hey, hey! Are you okay? I know I turned the corner pretty fast, but you shouldn’t be standing in the middle of the street like that!” the person calling you sounds frantic, frustrated at your lack of response. 

Your eyes flicker to the small jet black cruiser strewn across the sidewalk, haphazardly parked. Fingers curling around the person’s hand, you look up at their face and scream. 

It’s now their turn to collapse on the floor, eyes wide and terrified. Their soft black hair is fluffy and sweaty from using their helmet, now rolling away from their grip. 

“What?” he screams back, as if there’s something on his face. His hand whips up to clutch his collar, undoing the top button because he’s starting to sweat profusely. “Are you really injured? Do I need to call an ambulance or something—” 

“Jungkook!” you cry, ripping the woolen scarf from your neck to wrap it around the top half of his face. You scramble between his legs, making sure his piercings, tattoos and any other identifiable part of his body is concealed. You don’t even think about your fight from last night, knowing that it’s miniscule in comparison to Jungkook being swarmed by PR. “Kook, what the fuck? It’s broad daylight, you can’t be out like this without a mask! Where on earth did you hide that bike? Why—are you wearing fucking pastel green? Since when have you added color to your wardrobe?” the boy noticeably pauses at the attention to his outfit, tensing under your ministrations. “Dispatch will have your ass and the devil Min Yoongi’ll kill you again for sneaking out—”

It’s then that Jungkook snaps, two strong arms pushing you away like paper. You don’t expect Jungkook to ever lay a hand on you, and with a surprised yelp you’re painfully shoved onto the pavement.  

“Get off of me!” he cries, and throws your scarf on your lap. “Who the hell are you and why do you know my name?” 

He’s scared, holding his helmet like you’ve burned him. His doe eyes are glistening and dewy, as if you’re someone he should be running away from. 

“Jungkook—” and as you hold out your hand to him, you realize. 

I’m losing my mind, you think, clutching your head to double-check no injury has come to your brain. His hair is much, much longer. It waves and falls into his eyes, as if he’s just gotten out of bed. He’s wearing a backpack, and you notice some crumpled post-its sticking out of the zipper. Clipped around his neck is a university ID. Heck, he isn’t even wearing an outfit you recognize. Gone are the cargos and oversized sweats, replaced with professionally tapered dress pants and a plain polo. 

Is...  is Jungkook wearing khakis? 

It’s daylight, you’re sober, and the Jungkook that’s standing in front of you is not your Jungkook. 

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

And This Is How It Starts | Susan Pevensie x Reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: Slight homophobia, shitty friends???

Time/Era: Modern AU

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Everything your soulmate loses, you receive. Turns out, Y/N’s soulmate is very forgetful. 

Request: helloo. can you write a sapphic susan fic please! take it whatever way you'd like :)

A/N: I’m not sure how many people read Susan fics, but I really like this one :D

masterlist | narnia playlist | read on ao3

“Gross, can you guys please cut it out?” Y/N stated, watching her best friend suck faces with her soulmate. She was on his lap and their make out session was starting to grow more intense than Y/N was comfortable with. Hannah pulls away from Alex with an exaggerated groan. 

“You’re just jealous you’re still stuck in the ‘lose it and receive it’ phase. Not my fault you haven’t found him yet.” Her voice was light and teasing, but Y/N couldn’t help but fell her heart rip. 

“I’ll find her eventually,” Y/N sighed, taking a book out of her schoolbag. It was a small, very beat-up copy of The Hunger Games. 

“Her?” Alex responded, tearing his gaze from Hannah’s face. “How do you know it’s a her?” 

Y/N opened the book delicately to reveal “Susan Pevensie” written in perfect cursive on the back of the front cover. The book had multiple stains on it, most likely tea judging by the color, and the same perfect cursive riddled the pages. Whoever Susan was, she adored this book with her life. Y/N’s fingertips lightly traced the writing before turning the book for her friends to see. Hannah scrunches her face at it. 

“It could be his friends, you know. Like she lent it to him and he lost it,” Alex kisses Hannah’s cheek. 

“Or this Susan girl is his girlfriend,” Hannah smirks.

“Or,” Y/N was growing frustrated. Whenever she hinted that her soulmate might be a girl, everyone dismissed her suspicions. “My soulmate is Susan Pevensie and she keeps losing her things. And besides, this book is really loved, she wouldn’t just give it to someone.” 

Hannah scoffed, tossing her hair in a very I know everything, and you don’t kind of way. “Fine, believe what you want. Not sure why you would want a girl soulmate anyway, I know I wouldn’t.” 

“Well, yeah, of course you don’t. You’re straight,” Y/N flipped to a random page and read the gorgeous handwriting that was scrawled in the margins. Her mouth twitched slightly at how perfect the script was. 

“What? And you aren’t?” 

“No, I’m not.” Y/N’s eyes didn’t move from the page as she spoke. The teens sat in silence. “Is there a problem?” 

“No! No, of course not,” Alex answered quickly. ‘I guess we just, uh, didn’t expect it… I guess.” 

“Well, surprise. Now that that’s out of the way, do you guys like The Hunger Games?” 

The two grew even more uncomfortable at the sudden tension they were feeling. “No, not necessarily.” 

“She seems to. A lot. And there’s a cute little strawberry bookmark on page 47,” Y/N sighed dreamily picturing what Susan must look like. Based on her cursive alone, she must be absolutely jaw-dropping. 

“Has, er, Susan lost anything else recently?” Alex asked. Y/N nodded excitedly, digging in her bag again. She pulled out a set of keys with a feather pendant keychain, a light pink lipstick, a glass water bottle, and a small fabric coin purse. Y/N grinned down at the items then looked back towards her friends. 

“Oh, she must be quite forgetful. Do you have any other stuff?” Y/N’s grin brightened even more. 

“Oh, loads, this is just what she’s lost within the past week,” The keys jingled as she moved her hands. “The keys must’ve really ruined her day. I wonder what they’re to.” 

“Hopefully somewhere in England. Where’s the money from?” Hannah gestured to the yellow coin purse. Y/N shrugged and tossed it towards her friends. It was rather small, barely the size of Y/N’s palm, and it had a gorgeous diamond quilt pattern. 

“No clue. I haven’t opened it if I’m being quite honest.” Alex’s noble fingers undid the clasp and looked inside. 

“Well, it’s definitely British currency, which is helpful.” He tipped the pouch and emptied the contents into his hand. As expected, a variety of different coins came toppling out, along with a folded piece of paper and various pins. “Can I have this?” 

“No, you cannot have my soulmate’s belongings. Give me that,” Y/N grabs ahold of all the bag and its contents. With her hand cupped like a funnel, the pins and money fall smoothly into the coin purse. Y/N discards the pouch into her bag and begins to unfold the paper. 

She had expected the paper to be riddled with text, like a to-do list or a small reminder. Instead, it appeared to be a little photograph of a family. The paper itself seemed to be fragile as if it had been handled a lot or had gotten wet, so Y/N handled the photo with care. 

The scene depicted the smallest of the group, a little girl, giggling up at the oldest as the other two looked on with large smiles. Y/N turned the photo to look at the back, just in case any date was included with the photo. In the same gorgeous script as the book, Lucy laughing at Peter because Ed insulted him “in the name of justice.” June 15  was written in black ink. Y/N turned the picture over frantically and scanned the faces of the family. 

Susan was absolutely beautiful; her dark brown hair was styled in effortless waves and her lips were painted with a cherry red color. Her eyes were wrinkled in the corners, due to her contagious smile, and she looked like she was filled to the brim with happiness. Y/N had never seen such gorgeous baby blue eyes. 

The poor girl was speechless, her mind running a mile a second and vision focusing on only Susan’s portrait. 

“She’s gorgeous,” Y/N murmured breathlessly. 

“Who is?” 

Y/N looked up at her friends, turning the photo to show them. 

“Susan, my soulmate.” 

~ 

Susan read over the essay that sat in her lap, taking in every detail of the writing. It wasn’t hers, but it was her soulmate’s misplaced homework. The topic wasn’t overly exciting, an analysis of a book Susan hasn’t read, but just the way her soulmate wrote captivated her. Y/N L/N, which was the name written on the top of the paper, had such a poetic way of writing. It was as if she was telling Susan a story, rather than writing about an 18th century novel. 

“Reading the essay again, are we?” Peter snickered from next to her. Susan would have hit him with the paper, but she didn’t want to risk damaging it. 

“Yes, what’s the problem with that?” 

“Nothing, Su, I just don’t think rereading missing homework is going to bring Y/N any closer to you. It’s over a year old.” Peter had found his soulmate when he was young, so he didn’t quite understand his siblings’ desire to find their other halves so quickly. 

“Not physically, but I already know a lot about her from this one paper. I know her handwriting, how she talks, the way she feels about some things…” 

“Yeah, how she feels about classic literature. Not exactly groundbreaking.” Peter sunk deeper into the couch cushion in an attempt to get comfortable. 

“Maybe not to you, but to me it is. You don’t have to be such a happiness drain, you know.” Susan was growing more frustrated by the minute. She didn’t want her older brother to snatch the paper away from her, so she gently creased it and placed it into her notebook. 

“I’m just taking the piss.” 

“Well, it’s not funny. And shouldn’t you be doing your wash? We leave for school tomorrow.” Susan stood up, lifting her bag off of the floor and onto her shoulder. 

“Yes, alright mother.” 

~

“Y/N! Are you coming?” Hannah hollered over her shoulder. She was walking towards the train station with a large group of her friends. Y/N waved her off. 

“I’ll meet you there! Save me a seat, yeah?” Hannah shrugged her off and continued the conversion she was more invested in. 

Y/N sighed, watching their backs disappear into the distance. She never quite liked the group Hannah was friends with, so them leaving her out never quite bothered her. Especially when she could get sandwiches for the train ride. 

The teen was waiting at a crosswalk when she spotted her. Susan was stood at the newspaper stand outside of the corner store Y/N was going to. She looked stunning as she flipped idly through a Vogue magazine. The sun shone across her hair and Y/N thought she looked similar to an angel. 

When the light turned green, Y/N scurried across the street in order to meet her love. However, she paused a few paces away to steady her breathing. 

“Excuse me, are you Susan Pevensie?” Y/N spoke, voice shaking. Susan turned around, utterly confused. Y/N was right in her assumption; Susan was in fact an angel. An angel that looked even more heavenly in person. 

“Yes, and may I ask who you are? And how you know my name?” 

“Oh, right, um I’m Y/N L/N. I’m not sure if you know who-” Susan’s eyes widened and she couldn’t help but cut Y/N off. 

“You’re my soulmate.” Her red lips were slightly agape as she took in Y/N’s appearance. “Excuse my bluntness, but you’re even prettier than I imagined.” 

Y/N’s cheeks grew hot and her fingers fumbled with the buckles on her bag. She was much more nervous than she had hoped, but Y/N couldn’t help it. Once the bag was open, she gripped Susan’s possessions and held them out. 

“You need to keep better track of your things, love.” Susan’s perfectly manicured fingers brushed Y/N’s as she took back her book and keys. Y/N’s legs felt like jelly. 

“How could you possibly know what I looked like?” 

“You lost a picture of your family. Well, I suppose a coin purse with a picture folded inside. Still, a picture was lost and I saw it.” Y/N rambled, making Susan giggle. “I’ve been looking for you for ages,” 

“And I you, darling.” Susan placed her belongings into her bag and embraced Y/N. Y/N didn’t quite know what to do; Susan smelt of rose petals and honey and her hair was so soft as it brushed against Y/N’s cheek. All the same, Y/N wrapped her arms loosely around Susan’s waist. 

“Am I allowed to kiss you?” She whispered into Y/N’s ear. Y/N could have fainted on the spot, but she squeaked out a small yes. 

Susan kept her arms wrapped around Y/N’s neck as she kissed her gently. Y/N’s thumbs danced across the floral patterned fabric that covered her hips as she kissed back. It was light and fleeting, but it still made Y/N feel like she was going to burst. The pair pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes. Susan’s were even bluer in person. 

“Can I buy you a sandwich?” Y/N croaked, cutting the tension. Susan giggled happily. 

“As long as you let me cover the dessert.” 

[extremelyblackandwhite]

the light in the piazza

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: love at first sight trope

summary: sergeant james barnes of the 107th meets a woman in while stationing in florence. inspired by the song the light in the piazza 

I don’t see a miracle shining from the stars, I’m no good at statues and stories, I try. That’s not what I think about, that’s not what I see, I know what the sunlight can be ...

Wishing, wishing is a funny thing. When you wish for something you always think of the end goal of your wish, you never wonder how the universe will grant you your wish, in what conditions. It is not like you wish upon a star with a whole essay and plan of how your wish should be given, you just wish for it. Some wish for love, some wish for fame, for glory and riches, but no one wishes for something in a specific way that won’t guarantee the bittersweet hand of the universe. 

James had been the most recent victim of wishing carelessly. In this case, James wanted to travel, wanted to leave Brooklyn and see those places that were somehow always plastered in the highly stylised adverts stuck of the walls of his dead beat neighbourhood. He left Brooklyn, he had travelled. He had seen England, Ireland, Scotland and most recently Italy. The consequence? War. Suddenly, all those dreams of becoming the man in the airplane drinking expensive champagne and travelling to European dream lands were misshaped into flying in army airplanes and going to camps where hope was something that had begun to disappear.

The Italian base camp was no different. The soldiers were tired, those with wives and families only mumbled their names at times, the single ones had began to get tired of the nurses and girls that would come to entertain and help the tropes and those who had someone waiting for them back home had started to believe it was time to say goodbye. Hope was running low, but not for the Howling Commandos. No. Their motto was ‘as long as there’s a bar and you get to sleep another night, there’s hope’, but James was starting to lose hope. 

Today however was the day James lived by. Free day. They got to do whatever they pleased, whenever they pleased. James used this day to go sight-seeing, grab some postcards from his sister and try and rejoice in the twisted wish that had been granted. Florence was no different, he was walking around the piazza del duomo, looking at the view and how stunning it was. He stopped by a small shop, looking at the painted small postcards, offering the clerk some money and turning to face the middle of the piazza to return to the camp until he saw a small straw hat with a green ribbon wrapped around it fly aimlessly in the wind. James carelessly grabbed it from the mid air, wondering where the owner was. The owner of the hat wasn’t far as he saw a girl rush through the crowd dressed in a fancy outfit. He had seen something similar in the fashion magazines his sister would bring home. The new look, if he remembered. Hers was a shade of sunny yellow with green accents which matched the ribbon on her hat. 

She stopped in front of him, a look of uneasiness yet relief on her face. He finally could get a good look at her, along with the fancy and expensive dress, she had white gloves on adorned by a pearl bracelet on her right wrist with matching white lower pumps. Her hair was pinned back, showing the pearls on her ears and the camera hanging from a tan piece of fabric. 

      - Penso che ... uhm, I, how do you say ... cosa di testa? - James Barnes was a hundred per cent that he completely butchered the Italian language. Head thing? What was he thinking? 

      - You’re American? - the woman asked, noticing the slight Brooklyn accent in the middle of what was the worse Italian pronunciation she’d ever heard in her whole life. 

      - Oh god, you speak English. I have your hat. - he was nervous. Why? He did not know. He did not know why he was tongue tied in both Italian and English in front of the most polished woman he’d ever seen. She couldn’t be older than him, he actually thought she was even younger considering the lack of an engagement ring on her finger. 

     - Thank you so much. - she gave him the sunniest smile, sunnier than the dress she was wearing. James handed her the hat which she held with both hands in front of her abdomen. - My mother would kill me if I lost another hat. 

     - God thing I was here then. - god James sounded like Steve. That’s it, his power did not work outside of Brooklyn. 

     - I’m Y/N, by the way. - she extended one of her gloved hands and James wondered if his hands were good enough to hold what looked like the most softest piece of fabric he’d seen. 

     - James Barnes. - he shook her hand, a bit hypnotised with her. She had to be the prettiest woman he’d ever seen and he had some many women before.

     - Are you a soldier? - she noticed the mossy green suit he was wearing.

     - Sergeant, actually. We’re stationing here for a few days. 

     - Me and my mum are visiting. My dad is here on a business affairs and we thought to come and say hi. 

     - That’s a nice camera you got there. - suddenly he realised he was staring to intensely at her chest where her camera was resting. God, was he spastic? She pulled the tan string over her head, holding the camera with the hand he had just shook. - I, me and my friend Steve have this jar we put quarters in every single day to try and buy one of those. 

     - Do you wanna take a picture? Maybe to send home?

     - Really? - his eyes lit up like a child during Christmas. - No, I don’t want you to waste your film on me.

     - Well, you did save my hat so the least I can do is give you a free picture.

     - No, I don’t even know how use it. 

     - It’s easy. - she handed him the camera, standing by her side. - You look at this little window and find something you wanna take a picture off, spool the window and press the silver button. 

     - Are you sure it’s okay? - he asked, looking at the scenery through the small window of the camera. He slightly shifted the camera to face her, catching her staring at the church in front of them and clicked the silver button, she flash making her slightly turn her face to the ground. - That’s a heavy piece of machinery. 

     - Dad says it’s the future of fil ...

     - Y/N! - a much older woman dressed in a more fitted burgundy dress with a matching burgundy hat rushing towards them. - I’ve told you several times not to run off, what if someone kidnapped you? Or worse, robbed you?

    - Mum, this is Sergeant Barnes, he saved my hat. This is my mother, Margaret.

    - Oh thank you so much. Unfortunately, we have an appointment, I’m sorry we have to ...

    - What appointment? - Y/N interrupted, returning the camera to its resting place against her chest while placing her hat on top of her perfectly brushed and pushed hair.  

    - Let’s go, Y/N. - her mother turned on her back, walking straight ahead expecting her daughter to follow. Y/N gave him an apologetic look, knowing how her mother was when her plans got ruined and when she talked with someone she did not deem worth their time and attention. 

    - Wait, Y/N ... - James carefully grabbed her wrist, as not to alarm her mother who was walking with a might. - Where are you staying? I’d love to take you for dinner. 

    - I’m staying at the Grand Hotel. Go through the back. - she smiled at him before rushing to follow her mother wherever she was going, an ever so slight blush settling on the apples of her cheeks. 

Night couldn’t come earlier, the hours that once seemed like seconds took years to pass by but night eventually came and he found himself standing at the back of the Grand Hotel. It was a huge contrast to the front of the hotel, mostly filled with employees smoking or making out with the daughters of their clients. Speaking of which, he saw her come through the back door wearing a dress in the same shape as the yellow one except in a floral pattern, with a pink ribbon wrapped around her waist. 

    - Y/N. - he raised his hand calling for her attention. - You look beautiful. 

    - Thank you. We have two hours until my mother wakes up and realises I’m gone. 

    - I only need a hour ... Oh god why did I say that?

    - I have your picture by the way. - she opened her little bag, searching through it to hand him a black and white slightly sepia coloured photo. He smiled at it for a few seconds, realising he was now one of those army soldiers who had a picture of a lady in their pockets the whole time. - Where are we going?

    - I have no idea. - he started to walk the beautifully lit streets that made him forget they were in the middle of a war period. - So, Y/N, where do you live?

    - Well, right now we’re in London but next year we’re in New York. It always depends on where dad has business. 

    - Hey, I’m in Brooklyn, maybe you could come and visit me. My mum makes the perfect Sunday dinner and my sister can be less annoying than she normally is when there’s guests.

    - I’ve never had a Sunday dinner.

    - What? No way, doll. Do rich people not eat dinner? Is that why you’re all so very rich?

    - No, we normally have a very late supper with some hors d'oeuvres and wines. 

   - Well, you don’t know what you’re missing.

   - I guess I’ll have to take you on that offer then.

   - And you can meet Steve. He’s pretty scrawny but he has some fight left in him, probably would win the war if they allowed him. 

                                         PRESENT DAY (ENDGAME)

Bucky stood on the sidelines as he watched the funeral go through. He felt dirty, he shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be watching the funeral of the person he caused the most pain to. The worse however was Steve, he knew what he was about to do, he knew what he was about to go to. Sam was a great guy but Sam was not enough to make Bucky want to stay.

His hands went to his pocket, taking the worn out picture he had gotten from the museum, the picture of her. The picture had grown old, so had him and so had she, but he could still remember it like it was yesterday. No one could steal that memory, the memory of her kissing his cheek goodbye before she got back to hotel, the memory of the sun hitting his skin when he took that picture. 

   - It’s been 80 years, Buck. Wanna tell me about her? - Steve patted him on the shoulder. Bucky just smirked, turning his head slightly to stare at him.

   - No, I don’t think I will. - he used the same sentence Steve normally used when speaking about Peggy which always drove him off the wall.

   - You should come. 

   - I don’t think the James that she’s expecting is me anymore. 

   - If it doesn’t work, you can always return. What else do you have to lose?

He stepped with Steve onto what he thought looked like something out of a sci-fi movie, his eyes still on her picture as they stood in New York. He knew where she lived, she had wrote to him a few times during the war so he knew where to find her. Steve gave him a sympathetic smile, hugging his friend before they went their way. He wondered what she’d think or how he was going to explain the metal arm or the hair. 

James found himself standing in front of her home, fist coming to knock on the door. A slight commotion could be heard outside the door as the slight sound of heels was heard from inside the house. He thought about leaving, this was a bad idea, no, this was a terrible idea. As he was about to leave, the door opened. He saw her standing there, a blue dress on, hair free from any tight hair dos. 

   - James? - she questioned, recognising that face anywhere. 

   - Hi. - he didn’t know exactly what to tell her or how to say hi after all those years. The person he saw in his dreams at night was standing in front of him.

   - You know, it’s extremely rude to leave a lady waiting so long. - she leaned against her door. 

   - My apologies. - just like that he was that hopeless soldier in Florence. 

   - Y/N, who is it? - a man dressed in a dapper suit joined her by the door.

   - Oh, daddy, this is Sergeant Barnes, the soldier I spoke about. 

   - Oh, the hat guy. Come in, we’re having brunch and there’s always space for another one. 

He took her hand, walking into her home. 

Sometimes the universe puts you through one hell of a ride, but it eventually grants you your wish.

[brywrites]

Sweet Sixteen

It’s @goldenalvez‘s birthday today and I wrote this a while back after hearing B said she didn’t have a sixteenth birthday party. I hope your day is joyful and that you never doubt how loved you are! Summary: Luke x Reader. In which Garcia learns the Reader never had a big birthday party and decides it’s time to change that.

-----

“Y/N!” Garcia calls, running into the kitchenette impressively fast for someone in stiletto heels. “Luke said you didn’t want a birthday party! This has to be a complete and utter falsehood, so I immediately came to get the truth from you!”

Y/N raises her eyebrows, trying not to spill the coffee she’s pouring into a mug. “Why would my boyfriend lie about that?” she asks, laughing. “I’m not really one for birthday parties,” she admits. “I haven’t had one in ages.”

“Not even when you turned twenty-one? Or sixteen?” Reid asks. “Outside of bat and bar mitzvahs, those are the two most widely celebrated years for birthdays in American culture and tend to be seen as major milestones.”

She shakes her head and sets the pot of medium roast back on the burner. “Of course you would know that. No, I didn’t do anything. When I was young I would have parties and eventually people just stopped showing up. It hurt more than not celebrating at all, so by the time I was sixteen I’d kind of just given up on all that. But I mean, it’s not like you had a big celebration either, right?”

Reid considers this as he pours his own coffee. “Well, by the time I was sixteen I was about to graduate college and most of the way through my first doctoral dissertation. I hadn’t planned on doing anything, but Ethan was at CalTech at that point too. He and my advisor got some of the graduate students in my cohort together and surprised me. It wasn’t anything big but it was the first time I’d celebrated my birthday with someone other than my mom. Ethan’s boyfriend made a cake and my advisor pretended not to notice when the grad students broke out the wine and let me have some.” He turns to look at her. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that sometimes it’s nice to share that moment with people. To let them celebrate you.”

“Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying Boy Wonder!” Garcia chimes in. “And it’s no secret that I throw the best celebrations of all time, so it’ll be so much fun!”

“I love you both,” Y/N laughs. “But I really don’t need a pity party from my boyfriend’s team, okay? I just want to spend a quiet day at home with Luke and Roxy. But I need to get back to White Collar. My team has a con-man to catch and that data isn’t going to analyze itself.” She takes her coffee and walks down the hallway to her own office with its computer screens and maps. It’s true, she is looking forward to spending time with her favorite person and favorite non-person this weekend. But she also doesn’t want to go through the effort of planning a party only to be let down again. And though the BAU have become close friends since she and Luke began dating, it would still feel strange to be surrounded only by people she had met through him. But who else would even want to come?

Y/N shakes the thought from her head. She has a job to do. She refocuses on combing through emails and phone records. Agents from her own team come in and out of her office to ask questions or give her updates or stay and joke for a little while. She spends almost twenty minutes chatting with Darcy about the latest episode of The Bachelorette and joins both her and Marika for lunch in the courtyard. The day passes quickly and by the end of it, they’ve located their suspect in San Diego and agents at the local field office are poised to make the arrest over the weekend. It’s a job well-done, and her unit chief, Ahmed, stops by to thank her on her way out. She’s happy to see all their hard work pay off, but she is happier still to see Luke waiting for her by the elevator.

“We did it!” she tells him. “The case is closed!”

He grins and wraps her in a quick hug. “I knew you would. Now we have two things to celebrate this weekend.”

They step onto the elevator and she laces her fingers through his. “I don’t see why everyone makes such a big deal about birthdays. They’re just another day. They come every year.”

“Okay, okay, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he relents. “I just want to make sure you know that if there is anything you want to do, your wish is my command.”

Y/N rests her head against his shoulder. He smells nice, his cologne a mix of tonka bean and spice and a hint of vanilla. It’s comforting and warm, just like him. He’s the one person who always makes her feel safe and at home. He drives back to their apartment where Roxy is all to eager to see them.

“Hello sweet girl,” Y/N coos, kneeling down to hug her after the Belgian Shepard nearly knocks over in her excitement. Roxy nuzzles against her shoulder, her tail sweeping back and forth. Luke feigns hurt at the affront of being greeted second. She takes Roxy out for a quick run around the block and returns to find Luke halfway through making dinner.

“Pastelón,” he explains. “It’s like… Puerto Rican lasagna. Plaintains, ground beef, cheese. It’s really good. My mom used to make it for my birthday.”

“Did you have traditions in your family for birthdays?” she asks. After six months together, there’s so much she’s still learning about him.

He shrugs. “We did when I was younger. My mom would cook dinner. If it was my dad’s birthday, she’d make flan, which I always hated. He would buy cheesecake for our birthdays. We’d invite our friends over and have a potluck party in the park across from the apartment. Tia Dolores next door made the best empanadas and my best friend’s dad used to grill plantains. My friends and I would run around the park and get into trouble. And every year we’d go around and everybody had to say one thing they loved about the person whose birthday it was.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“It was,” he says, putting the pastelón into the oven. “But after my dad left it was different.” This is a story she’s heard before – how his father had survived Vietnam but returned home from a brief deployment to Panama with a distant look that never quite went away. He didn’t know how to cope with the trauma and one day he just left. His dad had always been his hero and his mom’s hero – and so Luke had tried to be the same. Strong, reliable, brave. “It was hard for her. We stopped having all the neighbors over. But she always made pastelón, and she always told me what she loved about me.”

“I love that,” she says. Then, noticing the food on the counter she asks, “What are you going to do with all the leftovers there?”

Luke immediately returns to cutting plantains and beef. “I couldn’t make some for us and not give Roxy any.” She can’t help but giggle as his sincerity. Because of course he would make a special dish for her, too. That’s just who he is – he loves big and wide and without apology.

The next day, Luke is mercifully quiet about her birthday. He kisses her slowly when she wakes up and makes heart-shaped pancakes for breakfast, but doesn’t say a word. His smile tells her all she needs to her. He’ll make today about her without making a fuss. That’s all she could need.

But then she takes Roxy out for an afternoon jog, and when she returns the apartment looks completely different. String lights and streamers hang from the wall. Yellow paper flowers are carefully placed on tables and counters. The living room furniture has been rearranged to make extra space despite housing additional chairs from the kitchen.

Luke stands in the center of the living room wearing a burgundy shirt that she loves him in so much. The grin on his face is bashful, like she’s just caught him sneaking sweets from the pantry. “What’s going on?” she asks.

“I would just like to state for the record that this was not my plan, technically, and I was coerced under threat of serious bodily harm,” he says. There’s a knock at the door. Y/N shoots him a look, but he just holds his hands up in surrender, denying all responsibility for whatever is about to transpire.

She opens the door and comes face to face with her entire team. “Surprise!” they chorus.

“Wait, what?” She steps aside, completely stunned and they file into the apartment. “What are you doing here?” Ahmed is holding a plate of frosted cookies, Darcy and Marika both have well-wrapped presents tucked under their arms, and the rest of the White Collar Crimes unit look absolutely delighted to be there.

“You really thought none of us knew your birthday was coming up, Y/L/N?” Darcy asks. “We’re here to celebrate our favorite technical analyst, of course!”

“And one of our favorite people even if you weren’t our tech analyst,” Marika adds.

Before she can respond there’s another knock. Six of their neighbors are at the door this time, including the couple with the two twin boys who live above them, as well as her three former roommates. Everyone has some sort of food dish with them. And just when she thinks that they’ve never had this many people in their living room at once, the entire BAU shows up. Garcia holds a large frosted cake and a surprisingly large pink gift bag swings from her arm.

“Happy day of birth!” she declares, rushing in to set the cake down so she can hug Y/N.

“I don’t understand,” Y/N says. “I thought that-”

“You said you didn’t want a pity party,” Garcia interrupts. “This is not a pity party. This is a party of a bunch of people who love you and what to spend today with you.”

“But how did you do this?”

“I simply roped your beloved Newbie here into assisting me. He’s very good at keeping a secret you know.” Y/N glances back over at Luke, who smiles.

“Guilty as charged,” he admits. “I may have – under duress, of course – helped Penelope identify your closest friends and what their emails and social media accounts were. She sent out invitations and helped me set everything up.”

“We were cutting it a little bit close,” Garcia says, “since I only had twelve hours notice, but I think we pulled it off pretty well.”

So everyone here just showed up? With almost no heads up? She looks around the room at so many faces she’s come to know and love. “But why?” she asks.

Garcia’s face softens. “Because we love you, silly. I mean, everyone here does, clearly. A whole lot. And there were at least twelve more people I invited who couldn’t make but really wanted to be here. Expect emailed well-wishes from them soon.”

At a complete loss for words, she turns to Luke. He pulls her into a gentle embrace. “If you really don’t like parties, I promise to never do this again. But I want you to have one day where you feel special. I want you to know how much everyone here cares about you, and I want to celebrate the fact that you exist. Because I’m pretty happy that you were born today, and I’m even happier that you’re still here. I love you, Y/N. We all do.”

“I love you, too,” she says, fighting back tears. He kisses her forehead, and then all too soon she is being pulled away to socialize. Everyone seems so happy to see her. Everyone has kind things to say and jokes to tell and things to catch up on. There’s enough food to feed a small army, and soon everyone is eating and mingling and their apartment is filled with the pleasant sound of easy laughter and the thumping tail of a happy dog receiving all the attention she could dream of from Garcia and the two twin boys. They go through the ritual of lighting candles on Garcia’s giant pink cake and singing to Y/N, and for once she doesn’t hate it. She looks at the faces of all these people over the glow of the candles, singing to her just a bit out of tune, but looking at her with so much love. She closes her eyes and makes a wish and blows out the candles.

As Reid cuts the cake in the most mathematically equivalent ratio possible and Rossi helps hand it out, Luke pulls her aside. “I know that there’s some other gifts for you,” he explains, “but I helped put this one together, and it’s from all of us.” He hands her a small gift-wrapped rectangle and she opens it carefully. It’s a little salmon-colored notebook with her name on the front. Curious, she opens it, expecting to see blank pages. Instead, the pages are filled with handwritten notes that have been pasted onto them. There’s a note from every single person here, addressed to her. Some are shorter and others are longer, but every one appears to include what they most love about her. There are even a few typed ones that must have been printed out in advance. “Garcia and I made sure everybody signed it before they came, and we collected messages from your friends who couldn’t make it. I know it’s not anything fancy but-”

“Are you kidding?” she asks. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever given me.”

He smiles, his brown eyes shining, and it makes her heart soar. How lucky is she to have someone that loves her this much? Who would move mountains – under duress, of course – to make her happy like this. “Well that’s not all,” he says. “This one is from me.” It’s not a wrapped gift, but a card with flowers and a cupcake with a heart on the front that says, Happy Sweet Sixteen!  

Y/N narrows her eyes in confusion. “Open it,” Luke insists. And so she does. It’s not a typical card – it has an extra page on the inside. And rather than a standard greeting card message, it is entirely covered in Luke’s handwriting. The 16 sweetest things about you, it reads at the top. It’s followed by a numbered list.

You’re the best listener. Anytime I need someone to talk to, you’re willing to sit with me. You pay attention to what people say and you are always happy to be a confidante and friend. I know I can trust you with anything.

You go out of your way to make people feel included.

You’re an exceptional kisser and I don’t have enough words to describe this because every time I kiss you I’m pretty sure my brain short-circuits.

You love well. There is always room in your heart for the people (and dogs) you meet and you always seem to know exactly what will make somebody feel loved when they need it most. You love me despite how much I love my dog.

You are the only person I love as much as I love my dog.

She looks up from the card, teary-eyed. “I can’t keep reading this or I’m going to cry,” she says.

“Well it’s your party, sweetheart” he chuckles. “You can cry if you want.”

She shakes her head. “Mm mm. Not today. Today I just want to be really really happy with the people who make really really happy.” Luke stands by her side as Garcia urges her to open gifts and eat cake with everyone. The frosting is nearly as delicious as the moment feels. Rossi brings out the wine and Y/N excitedly puts on the pair of earrings in Garcia’s large bag of gifts, which happen to be shaped like her favorite candy. And this, she thinks, is better than any party she could have dreamed of in the past. Maybe big parties aren’t always going to be her thing. And maybe birthdays don’t always need to be a huge deal. But it is nice – to be celebrated. To be reminded that she is incredibly loved, even when she herself doesn’t always realize it.

It’s the sweetest of days, and there’s no one else she would rather spend it with.

[writinginthedarkwood]

A Royal Romance <3 Prince! Bakugo x Reader

It’s fluffvember!! I’m not following a prompt list, but if you send me a request for a prompt I’ll do it! No warnings this is just cute!

“If you don’t find a wife soon enough I’ll have to watch your stupid wedding from the grave!” The beautiful Queen whacked her son on the head with her long golden scepter. The fiery young man shot his red eyes up and fumed. Interrupting his training was a sure easy way to get yourself blown up. His shoulders tensed as he dropped the iron anvil he was using to lift over his head and squat. It hit the floor with an incredibly loud bang. He slowly looked back at his also raging mother. He had been trying to ignore her until his last set was done. “Why do you always come in here and nag at me?” He said through grit teeth, knowing better than to raise his voice. Prince Bakugo was known for his fierceness, a well respected warrior that shook both enemies and allies to their very core with one look. The only other person that could ever hold a candle to that kind of fear and respect would simply be the boys mother.

Another smack of the scepter, this time behind the knee, making the prince lose his balance a bit. “What was that for!” He raised a fist to the air and scowled, this time unable to control the volume of his voice. “You’re going to listen politely you little brat!” The young prince growled and laid on his back, looking at the ceiling. He’s had this conversation 100 times, the fight always ends the same way. The truth is, Katsuki had no interest in ever getting married. Romance was always in the back of his head. He’d listen to her bitch and head to his favorite pub to drown out the pressure of fulfilling his royal duties. “I’ve been real nice and patient about this, but you’ve been of age to take a wife for awhile now. You not showing up to that meeting with Princess Uraraka and her family has damaged our relations with them!” She took a deep breath, lowering her voice to try and sound a bit more nurturing. “I worry about you. So I’ve decided to change my approach.”

The blonde lifted his head off of the ground to look at his mothers face. He kept a stoic face, not trusting this new tone.

“You have 30 days to find your own fiance, or you will marry the princess of my choosing 31 day’s from today. You most likely won’t like who I have in mind, so I’d get to searching if I were you.” With that the Queen spun and left on her heel, leaving the prince in a twitching stunned anger.

Prince Bakugo had hardly toweled himself off before heading straight to the pub. The door slammed open and the whole bars atmosphere changed. He stepped in and faces shot down to their drinks, knowing better than to look at the Prince when he was in a bad mood. The bar tender rose a mug of mead above his head with a smile. “Hey your highness! It’s been a minute! I thought maybe you’d forgotten about my humble establishment.” The yellow haired man winked to the new barmaid, he’d bragged to her a lot about knowing the prince ‘like a dear friend’ and the woman’s jaw dropped when she saw that he was telling the truth. The prince settled at the bar on a stool and the bar keep handed him a stein of his favorite beer. “You’re surprisingly quiet, what gives?”

“Not in the mood to talk Kaminari.” He grumbled into his drink and took a long sip. “Where’s shitty hair?”

The bar tender pointed to the corner of the pub with a chuckle. “Oh, Kirishima? I’m kind of surprised, he’s been chatting up a girl for awhile. She looks irritated, she brought a book with her.”

Bakugo turned to see his second in command, his most trusted knight and General sitting across from a commoner girl. Bakugo rolled his eyes and slammed his drink on the counter. Why would the one person I want to talk to busy themselves with someone other than me? He thought to himself with a scowl. Kirishima saw him looking and waved at him to join him. The girl turned her head to look and see who he was waving to and immediately turned pale.

I heard the prince visited here sometimes, but I didn’t think I would actually see him... Panic started to rise in your chest a bit, how did this annoying man know the prince? You had been trying to get out of this conversation for awhile now, you came here to visit your friend while they were working and maybe catch up on your reading. It wasn’t often you had any time off of work, especially during the spring. He was wasting your precious time, but he had wealthy clothing on. You knew better than to talk back to someone who might be a noble, it was easy for people in this town to lose everything just by speaking out of turn. You turned away from the approaching prince and stared back down into your book. You felt his presence just behind you, the aura coming off of him feeling almost poisonous. You had heard the stories, you had seen his soldiers coming back from battle covered in dried blood with sick smiles on their face. “Y/N you have to meet his royal highness, he’s the friend I was telling you about.”

He had been mentioning how his best friend was smart, loyal and handsome. You had been ignoring him, you’d been offered marriage by a few suitors in town. You didn’t understand why, you were under the impression you were plain looking. You didn’t have a lot of assets that a family would be looking for, so why were people harassing me all of the time? You couldn’t breathe, the man Kirishima invited Prince Bakugo to sit with you two. Your brain tried to think of a reason to leave, but your mind seemed to have shut off.

Prince Bakugo was star struck. Never in his entire life had he seen such a naturally lovely lady. Your hair was swept against your face, your eyes glowing with emotion and honesty. So many princesses he had met that were covered head to toe in makeup and restrained to corsets, they always had something hiding behind their faces. Their reasoning for speaking to you layered in greed. Bakugo never interacted with peasants, this bar was upscale, what were you doing here he wondered? “This is Y/N, she works with her family at a stand in town square.” He smiled and touched your hand that was holding your book. You flinched, just lightly but enough that the prince noticed. “Tell him what you sell Y/N.” He nodded, edging you on.

“Y-yes sir.” You stammered. “My father makes hand made daggers... I sell them to travelers.”  You didn’t look either of them in the eye. You were trying to be as polite as possible. “Your highness.” You finished your sentence. Bakugo said nothing for a moment. “Isn’t that interesting, a woman who can read and knows her way around a weapon.” He smirked at you and squeezed your hand he had pulled away from your book. Your hand was shaking violently, you were afraid. If he were to do anything to you, you wouldn’t be able to fight back- your train of thought was interrupted with the princes fist. He flung his hand against the red haired man with a yell. “You idiot! Can’t you see your bothering this lady?” The prince grabbed his friend by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to the counter.

Kirishima smiled, he knew exactly what he was doing. He’d planted the seed of intrigue in his friend, and before long the prince was hooked.

You didn’t go back to the bar, even when your friend invited you. She said the prince had been back to the pub everyday this week, she said he brought so much business in they were running out of mead and cheese! You congratulated her on all of the tip money she was making. Your heart sped up a bit at the thought of the handsome prince. You had caught his eye that day, it was like he stared directly into your heart for a moment as he pulled his friend away.

You stood behind the wooden stand in the spring breeze, the town square was filled with people but not many had stopped by to see your wares. You sold one knife today, and it was worth a pretty penny so you leaned against the counter, reading your book instead of trying to get the attention of the people who passed by.

“Hey! Y/N!” You cringed at that voice, you knew exactly who was calling your name. People parted the way with hurried feet, scurrying to the sides of the plaza. You took a deep breath and looked away from the pages. It was the Knight Kirishima, and he wasn’t alone. He had a whole crew with him, including the moody prince. “Wow you were right Kiri! She is cute.” A gorgeous woman with pink pigment covering her whole body gushed. She had a flowing skirt dyed the brightest green you had ever seen. The crew swarmed your stand, picking up all of your wares and inspecting them. A man with stark black hair slashed at the air with a smaller dagger, the pink girl squealed and dodged his attacks. “Can you two try not to kill each other please?” Kiri called over his shoulders.

Prince Bakugo was trying not to look at your face. He stared disinterested off to the side. “Wow you guys sell good stuff. Your father hand makes all of this?” Kirishima asked picking up the longest knife in the collection and admired it. “What do you think Bakugo?” The prince had his hands in his pockets. He shrugged a bit, and you noticed a light blush forming on his cheeks. He swept his eyes to the side, catching you looking at him and the red on his face deepened. “Uh, yes sir. We have our own forge.” You straightened your skirt out and tried to stand up straight. “That’s amazing. It’s peasants like you that keep our economy thriving!”

Prince Bakugo shot a look of death at his friend and his face twisted in anger. “You shouldn’t call people peasants, you peasant!” He raised his hand to smack his friend, and Kirishima laughed. “Aw come on, you say that all the time!”

By the evening you were left with a heavy bag of gold, and all of your items were gone. The Prince having bought every one in stock without a word.

Your family was ecstatic, you on the other hand were heavily frustrated. Your father bought high quality steel, for managing to sell so well he made you a gift. He made you your very own long sword.

A few days after your second interaction with the Prince gifts were starting to appear at your family home. Your mother almost fainted when a healthy kid and foal were delivered to your doorstep. Bags of wheat, coal and barrels of beer started coming around one after the other. Your mother washed and braided your hair, she sang while she sewed you a new dress. Someone was courting her daughter, and she couldn’t wait to meet the wealthy mystery man. You lied and said you hadn’t had a clue as to who it could be.

You smiled every time another present arrived, faking happiness for your families sake. But by the end of the week, you were fuming angry, unable to mask how upset you were getting. You decided to take some time for yourself.

You’ve been studying months, reading every book on the matter. You had been reading about the art of sword fighting. Your father thought he had made you an heirloom, not a weapon.

You wrapped the blade in a cloth blanket and tightened your boot straps. You needed to vent out you anger, and headed for the woods in the blanket of night time.

You slashed at the branches of this small tree, easily cutting through the thin wood. You smiled to yourself, the way you moved through the air feeling freeing.

The ground trembled, a loud terrible blast made you lose your balance. You looked around, heart stuck in your throat. What was that? A battle? You dipped into the bushes, hiding your body from whatever terrible thing was approaching.

Someones footsteps snapped twigs loudly, but it sounded like they were alone. You saw the flash this time, a bright terrible light followed by a deafening sound. Birds scrambled out of their nests and cawed to the moon as they flew away. Branches flew across the clearing and you peered through the sharp twigs of your hiding place.

It was him, the Prince was pacing back and forth. He raised his hands, sparks flying off of his palms before settling down on a fallen log, looking up at the moon with his back to you.

Did that fool follow me out here? You gripped onto the hilt of your sword and jumped out of the foliage, pointing your weapon at the back of his neck. Pointing a weapon at the royal family would be certain death, but you were tired of being a toy to whatever sick game he was playing. Tears welled in your eyes as you  demanded him to explain himself. He turned his head nonchalantly before realizing it was you. He stood up, his body towering over yours. You gulped, immediately regretting your decision to threaten him. You stood your ground, your voice wavering. “Did you follow me here?” He shouted. You furrowed your eyebrows and lowered your sword. “Follow you? No! You followed me!” You shouted back at the prince. He looked surprised that you would speak to him that way. “I always come out here when I need to think.” He said with a less harsh tone.

“Well...” You thought for a moment. He looked honest enough. “I came out here to think too.” A very small twitch of his lips hinted that this monster might actually know how to smile. It quickly faded. “It’s late, you should be in bed.” He said bluntly. “Shouldn’t you have your gaggle of followers around you?” You hissed, you’re a grown woman. You can make your own choices. He didn’t react harshly like you thought he would. “Yeah well sometimes I just want to get away from all of that.”

“All of what?” You pushed, and he sat back down on the log without answering.

“All of the wealth and fame? Never having to worry about anything ever because people fall on their knee’s when you walk by?” You seethed. You knew in your heart this man had to be selfish, going as far as harassing you with his display of power by drowning you in gifts you could never hope to pay back. “Just because I’m royal doesn’t mean I don’t have shit to worry about.” He said looking up at the sky.

“What are you stressed about anyway? Your family should be set for awhile now.”

You dropped your sword and put yourself in front of him, forcing him to look at you. “I knew it was you! What’s your problem anyway harassing me like that?”

He didn’t answer you. “You have my mother confused. She thinks I have a suitor and is getting all giddy about a non existent wedding.”

He smirked, not looking away from the sky. The moonlight hit his soft skin, you knew he was handsome, but out here he looked breath taking. Bakugo felt the same way about you, hardly able to look at you he tried to avoid eye contact by pretending to star gaze.

“Tell your mother it was just generous gifts. There is a wedding, it’s just not yours.” His heart was pounding in his chest. He hates that you make him feel so vulnerable, everything about you was so frustrating.

“Your getting married? To who?” You sat down beside him and looked up too. You were starting to feel tired, you were usually asleep hours ago. You never really get to admire the night sky like this, you don’t understand why people waste time looking at them when they have to get up for work in the morning.

“I don’t know who it is. My mother picked her out, it’s in about two weeks.” He took a deep breath, not really having the energy to be angry about it right now. “Can I ask you something Y/N?” He looked at the way your eyes twinkled in the dark, seemingly even brighter than anything in the sky. “Go for it... erm, your highness.” You almost forgot to be formal.

“Do you ever feel like you have no control over your life?” He asked plainly. Bakugo didn’t understand why he felt like he could spill anything to you. I mean, it’s not like anyone would believe you had a secret meeting with the princess in the woods anyway. You’d be labeled a liar before the words even made it all the way out of your throat.

You laughed a breathy, sarcastic laugh. “Uh, yeah. You can say that.” You looked at the blade you wouldn’t have without the money the prince spent at your store. “It’s why I want to learn how to fight. It makes me feel... I don’t really know how to explain it.”

A rustle in the bushes behind you too broke the bubble around you two. You had been focused on each other, you forgot you were standing without caution in the middle of wolf country. You grabbed your blade and held it towards the bush, but the Prince shot an arm in front of you. His palms facing outwards. He guarded you from whatever it was that was making so much noise.

An elk head popped out of the tree line, and quickly ran away at the sight of you two.

You both kind of laughed and lowered your fighting stances. “You know that form was all wrong, you really don’t know how to use that thing, do you?” He said with a stoic look and a hint of a growl under his breath. “Hey! Not all of us can use magic to fight. Where did you learn to make those blasts anyway?” You grabbed his hand and turned it around. His hands are incredibly soft, they kind of shown in the dark. You expected them to be callused and dirty, but even his nails were clean.

“I mean, I could teach you how to use that sword if you want.” You looked at his face and tried not to blush. “You want to teach me?” The kindness in his eyes didn’t fade, but his tone went back to being harsh. “I just don’t want you to get yourself killed out here is all. It would make me look bad if you died.” You couldn’t help but smile.

Every night you two met under the stars, you slept against your stall during the day. You waited until your parents fell asleep before creeping out of the door, your feet hitting the dirt path to the clearing with a giddy smile.

You two spilled how you felt about life out here alone. He told you about battles he had seen, claiming to have even run into a dragon once. He learned fighting tactics from studying the big creatures, never tempted to slay them. You always had heard he was a terrible and ruthless warrior, but he only fought against the most wicked of kingdoms. He didn’t even hunt for sport, only ever killing the forest creatures for food. You told him about wanting to travel the world, leaving your family and getting a job as maybe a mercenary. All while avoiding getting cut by the other one.

“So I’ve been meaning to ask you...” You ducked, his blade whipped over your head, slicing threw a piece of your hair. You swung out your leg, hitting his shin. He staggered for a moment but didn’t lose his balance. Just giving you enough time to stand up. “Just say it then!” He side stepped, his blade clashing with yours in defense. “Have you met your future wife yet?” He froze and you knocked his sword out of his hand. You swung hard expecting resistance, and lost your footing. You toppled onto him, knocking you both onto the ground. His back hit the dirt and you both lost your wind. You picked your head up, his face was burning. Your breasts were squashed onto his chest and he could see down your blouse. You squeaked and rolled off of him, and now your face was blushing terribly as well. “Sorry- I’m sorry!” You stammered. “I was just wondering what was going to happen... I mean after your married you probably won’t be able to uhm...” You looked at the discarded weapons. “Yeah it might be a bad look if I was secretly meeting another woman in the woods at night...” Your heart twinged. You had never told him, but the past two weeks have been the best in your life. You know you’ll miss having a sparing partner, but it felt deeper than that.

“This is probably the last night I’ll see you then, isn’t it Katsuki?” You said with a low voice. You rolled onto your back, laying beside him and looking up at the full moon. He said nothing, he had almost forgotten his mothers promise. Spending time with you made him forget about all the things he hated, he felt... happy when he was with you. Your smarter, kinder, funnier and braver than any other woman he’d ever met. He even asked you to drop the formalities, begged you to call him by his first name without any “your highness” attached.

“I guess it is. Tomorrow my time is up.” He finally muttered.

You took a chance and reached for his hand, he didn’t recoil. His fingers interlocked with yours, you laid a foot away, he held onto your hand tightly. You were so close to him, laying right by his side.

Yet the two of you felt so far away.

“What are you so dressed up for?” Prince Bakugo was trying to comb his hair down in front of his mirror. His mother wasn’t wearing anything special, of course her simple clothing was still lavish. He didn’t yell. “I mean I should look good for my wedding shouldn’t I?”

The Queen took a moment to realize what he was talking about. “Oh! Yeah...” She put her hand on his shoulder and the prince turned to see his mothers eyes looking kind. “You really didn’t meet anyone this month that would make a better wife, my son?”

You flashed in his head. Of course it was you, the minute he saw you sitting in that stupid pub you had worked your way in his guarded heart. “No, just point me to the direction of my new ball and chain.” He said quietly.

The Queen laughed and Bakugo narrowed his eyes. “There’s no wedding today, Katsuki.”

“What do you mean?” He yelled, his hands sparking like he might throw a punch. “I was trying to get you to put effort into finding love. You weren’t letting anyone near that spikey little heart of yours.”

“You tricked me?!” He raged. The Queen yelled back. “Don’t you raise your voice at me, brat!” She composed herself and straightened out her posture. “It worked though didn’t it? Where’s the little forest nymph you’ve been trying to hide from me?”

“What are you talking about?” Bakugo stuttered. Surprised to hear she would mention you. “Oh go ahead and pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about... I got eyes and ears on you boy!”

Bakugo knew to hit Kirishima as hard as he could when he saw him next.

The Queen turned on her heel and walked towards the door. “If I met a common girl in the woods... I’d tell her how I feel before it was too late.” She stopped at the door frame. “Especially if that common girl loved me back, and I was just too stupid to notice.”

She shut the princes bedroom door, leaving him to think alone.

The evening was falling and the sky was turning a beautiful hue of red and orange. You looked at your sword leaning against the wall covered in it’s cloth. Your mother stirred a big pot of soup, humming happily to herself. Your father peered over his mug of warm cider and caught the distant look in your eye. “My sweet daughter, you’ve been so happy this month. Why do you have that forlorn face again?”

You forced a smile on your lips. “Oh I was just thinking father. I’m perfectly fine!” You turned back towards the window. You wondered if his new wife was as beautiful as you were picturing. If she had perfectly kept hair, clear skin... If she had gorgeous fashion and grace. If she knew all of his secrets like you did... if she loved the way he laughed manically with his whole belly as he reenacted blowing that war lord away. Or if she thought he was a barbarian... Your stomach turned and tears stung behind your lashes. What if he saw her and forgot all about you so quickly it was like you never met?

“I think I’m tired, don’t make me a bowl momma I’m going to just go lay down.”

You stood away from the window and headed for your small bedroom, just hoping to lay down under your quilt and silently cry for awhile. Why would I let something like this happen to me? I’m such a fool. You cursed at yourself.

“What’s going on outside?” Your father asked your mother before you left your little living area. You turned and watched your mother gasp and drop her spoon into the pot of hot liquid. A line of horses traveled up the stone path to your cottage. They carried the royal flag, you saw him in his full military uniform on top of a large black stallion. He was with all of his friends, Kirishima, rode right beside him in plated armor. They were coming fast. “Oh goodness, are we in trouble? The royal army is here!” Your mother grabbed your father out of his chair and pulled him away from the windows. “No, no its okay poppa. Stay here...” You pushed open your door and met them outside. Bakugo hopped off of his horse by standing on its back and launching himself in the air. He’d done that flip for you before and laughed when you tried to copy him, falling flat to your knee’s on the ground.

He grabbed your hands and you two embraced. His arms wrapped around your waist and you threw yours around his neck. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at your wedding?” You asked unable to hide the smile on your face, even though you’re confused. “Listen I never told you the whole truth about my wedding.” He looked sheepish. “There was a catch, I had to marry someone my mother chose, or find my own love within the month.” He started to ramble, throwing out how he couldn’t think about anyone other than you, that nobody in this world was like you. You giggled. “Katsuki, what are you saying?”

He stopped his word vomit and looked at you with determined eyes. “I’m saying that I know who I want to spend my life with.”

The prince knelt down on one knee and pulled out a golden band. “It has to be you, Y/N. I- I love you...” He slipped the ring on your finger. “I don’t expect you to be subservient like a slave, we can travel the world and fight together.. you’ll be my fearless Queen and-” You lunged at the nervous prince and tackled him to the ground. “Yes you idiot! Yes!”

Your mother and father cheered from the door way, along with all of his knights yelling behind you two. He grabbed both sides of your face and planted a hard kiss on your lips.

You closed your eyes, forgetting everything around you for a moment. All you felt was his lips against your own. The fog in your head moved quickly, clearing away all of the feelings of doubt and repressed emotions.

You could finally see the stars clearly, and they spelled out the truth.

You two were made for each other.

Thank you so much to my very favorite requester.

My asks are always open <3

My ko-fi account -> https://ko-fi.com/writinginthedarkwood

[youarejesting]

Femme: 30!

[MASTERLIST]

Recap: After discussing everyone’s desires, it is revealed that some members had started to get physical with y/n. They each feel the tension and want to take the relationship further but no one knows how to approach the subject. A group shower session leads to more and they each get to explore their wants and needs together. A stir of new emotions ignites small sparks between some of the boys. They each spend the night cuddling and watching movies until they fall asleep.

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader, Taegi (Taehyung x Yoongi)

Rating: Mature Themes.

Warnings: Smut (not really anything intense), hand job, voyeurism, exhibitionism.

Length: 3k words

Announcement: Chapter 30!!!! I can’t believe how far this story has come, I never keep stories this long a record. THANK YOU everyone reading I hope you enjoy. I know sometimes my writing gets a little rocky especially when I write at night.

Waking in Taehyung’s arms you noticed the lack of warmth against your back and absence of the choir of breathing. Opening your eyes you feel light as a feather the endorphins from last night’s activities were doing wonders. Rolling over to face your deep voiced lover his face looking stunning, lips parted. It was mid way through your roll that you felt the ache in your hips and back, you let out a hum like moan and Taehyung’s eyes opened and settled on your face.

“Morning, my baby bear” he pulled you onto his chest and you whined, he noticed the discomfort on your face, “What is wrong?”

“I am sore from last night, remember I am very tender papa bear everything aches” you buried your face into his chest and he gently rolled you underneath him and pulled a face at you. You laughed at how adorable he looked crossing his eyes, he sat up straddling your waist and wiggled down your body.

His hands were warm and strong and his fingers pressed against your hips and thighs rubbing slow circles into the aching muscles. Looking down at you wearing one of Jin’s big shirts, he peeked underneath and bit his lip pulling the shirt back down and continuing his sensual massage. He loved the sound of your voice and the way you looked he pulled out his phone from the couch and snapped a picture sending it to the boys group chat after sending a warning NSFW message.

Your skin was so smooth and soft he wanted to squeeze you tightly. He felt the strain in his boxer briefs and he bit his lip trying to suppress it. Your muscles were sensitive from the nights activities and he wouldn’t push you. His hands continued to work the stress and aches from your body, you were quite vocal at his skilled hands. He made a slight whine and you looked over your shoulder to see his cheeks heated, you glanced up and down as best you could over your shoulder and saw the hardness pressing against his underwear.

You snorted burying your face back into the pillow’s giggling away, not wanting to move but a small part of you wanted him to fill you once more. You brought up the idea of sumata with Taehyung and he told you know, you were sore and he wouldn’t abuse your body any more. “But Tae I want to help you, not because I have to but because it makes me happy and feel loved to be able to do something with you. Trust me I am turned on too, I am just sated from last night’s activities and don’t need to.”

“If you are sated, I am sated” he smiled picking you up, Jin’s shirt riding up and he turned his head away growling as he carried you to the bathroom. Placing you onto the counter you let out a squeal and a shiver the bench was cold. “A warm bath for my baby bear?”

He added scented bubbles and undressed you both, he made a hiss and physically stopped himself from reaching out to your swollen breasts. You were covered in love bites and most of them were in fact from him, to which he gently traced them and smiled proud. He raced out his bare bottom looking absolutely adorable as he left. He came back with his proper camera and started taking pictures and you covered your face, his heart swelling you were rosey pink and shy and looking absolutely stunning. 

“You are the prettiest model, I have ever had” The tap was turned off and reluctantly the camera was put down, he placed you both in the water. He laid you back on his chest and sang to you his deep voice relaxed you. You were starting to feel so much better the scent, warmth and expert hands seemed to knead your flesh.

Taehyung’s pastel yellow and pink hair was slicked back and you looked reaching your hands back to hold his cheeks and smiling. “I love you” you said in English and then froze and he blinked tilting his head trying to process what you had said. It’s not like you didn’t show them, you said it to everyone on the phone, including your friend Kwon Jiyong. And you mean it you love them all but this time it was different. 

This was a realization that you loved him. That you loved them all. An Intense wave of emotion hit you, you couldn’t live without them. You had previously thought and sympathized with your boss Moon Inshik who lost his wife and partners, but that was just pity for his misfortune. This however, was Empathy, you could understand how he was feeling on a personal level and the crippling, heavy weight sank into your chest. 

You leaned out of the tub and sent a text that it was you and everyone should answer as it was important. You made a video call off Taehyung’s phone and they all answered, their face’s appearing.

“Is everything okay?” Namjoon said and they all were talking and asking questions, Seokjin and Jungkook looked really busy. You started to cry a little scared but happy to see their faces and they began panicking and asking you what was wrong. Speaking all at once you, felt a little annoyed that you hadn’t even gotten to say the words.

“Shut up and let me talk!” they froze and you licked your lips, You had so much to say your brain refused to translate and Namjoon listened the words sinking in and tears filling his eyes and he tried hard to keep them in. “I love you, like I actually am in love with you and I don’t know what to do. I mean I loved you all but I only realized now that this whole time I had fallen in love with you all” 

“Baby I love you too, I have been in love with you since the day I was teaching you Korean and you fell asleep on my desk” Namjoon smiled and took the time to translate everything you had said to the boys and Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin started crying and Taehyung wrapped his arms around your waist eyes watering as he pressed shaking lips against your shoulder. Seokjin scolded you for making his face puffy at work and shouted about how much he loves you from the staff room.

Yoongi had hung up his connection and slammed open the bathroom door and it bounced off its stopper. He didn’t flinch as he strode over a determined look in his glassy eyes. Cupping your cheek in one hand of his hands he crouched down running his thumb along your lips and leaning in kissing you slowly his eyes had spilled over. 

“Get back to work, you can see her when you get home” Yoongi scolded

“But you get to see her hyung?” Jungkook whined

“That’s because I was smart and decided to work from home” He took the phone hanging it up and throwing it onto the towels on the sink. Yoongi carried the floral fabric love-seat to the bath and snatched Taehyung’s camera on the way snapping photos of the two of you in the tub, making sure the light of the window came in behind you for a sweet silhouette with the rays traveling across your body. The three of you talked about life and love and yoongi and Taehyung agreed they didn’t care about race or gender or anything, if they liked someone’s personality and company that’s all that matters. You saw the way that the two interacted especially last night when you fell asleep they had connected hands around you.

“Hyung do you want to join?” Taehyung asked Yoongi lowered the camera weighing his options before shaking his head and running his hand over his face.

“I should get back to work” he sighed standing placing his hands on either side of the tub and for a second you believe he is going to get in and his eyes seriously contemplating scraping the idea of working in the home studio to lay with you in the warmth of the tub.

He leaned in and kissed your lips tasting like coffee and smelling like the electronics and leather from his studio. He pulled away your lip caught between his teeth and he gently released it with a small moan. Your eyes sparked with a little bit of fire, your gaze held a challenge as you smiled.

“Don’t forget to give Taehyungie his kiss, Yoongi” you said with a coy smile. Taehyung loved to show affection he and Jimin were the two that would always seek out hugs and hands to hold not only from you but from all the boys. Not shying away he playfully leaned forward and looked up at Yoongi.

“Hyung let me give you a good luck kiss” He smiled and Yoongi swooped in and kissed Taehyung’s lips. It was small he took Taehyung’s bottom lip between his lips, a simple neat kiss. Turning away and leaving the bathroom he called from the door. 

“Don’t stay in the bath too long you will wrinkle”

Taehyung was frozen, eyes wide and you could feel his heart racing in his chest. Giggling you two spoke about Yoongi among other things before begrudgingly exiting the tub. He answered a  call from his family, you headed to your room, filming another video, you make one every Friday but you had some free time and you grinned.

You got a message from an american talk show, that wanted you and the boys to appear on the show. With a bright smile, you forward the email to Namjoon with a message asking if it was possible. You were thinking of making lunch for the boys and went to find them, Yoongi’s studio door was open and it was quiet. Stepping into the doorway you felt your jaw drop.

You walked in on a beautiful scene Taehyung bent over Yoongi’s table. Trying to grip the smooth glass surface of the desk, a deep rumble pulling from his chest. Yoongi’s arm fell over Taehyung’s hip and his hand was a blur between the younger man’s legs. The mint haired young man smiled at you and whispered in Taehyung’s ear and he looked at you and cried out. 

White liquid spotted the top of the table. You smiled walking in and asked if they were hungry and they shook their heads exhausted. You all sat around for a while the boys catching their breaths. The conversation steered to music and soon you three took turns singing and recording Christmas songs, until Taehyung got a call from his family once more and seemed to be upset that he couldn’t go back.

You did some research it was almost 12pm and it took just under 2 hours to get to Daegu on the train. You could definitely do it and part of you wanted to go. The idea of seeing where he grew up was intriguing. Leaning over Yoongi’s shoulder you showed him the train, he looked at you and you pulled a cute face.

“Oppa, I want to go to Daegu and meet your families and see where you grew up please” he looked at Taehyung and spoke quickly in Korean and his eyes lit up and he nodded. Yoongi saved his work, shutting down the computer.

“You better pack a small bag just encase” he stood up stretching.

Bag packed and now dressed in Jeans, shirt, sweater and beanie, you were toasty warm.

“Jagiyaaaaaaaaaaaaa, Myeong Myeong” Hoseok poked his head around the corner. Looking you up and down, taking in your cute winter outfit that went well with your black velvet collar. “You look cute let’s go on a date?”

“Um, well actually Tae, Yoongi and I are going to Daegu, you can come with if you want, but you have to pack a bag we are leaving now and will be back late tonight”

“Oh that’s okay, I have rehearsal tonight and Jimin and I are going Christmas shopping for everyone. And um we were wondering if you know, you weren’t busy and were interested in seeing us perform our New Year's concert, I can buy the tickets and you can come see”

“Of course Honey, I want to see you boys dance, I like watching you dance, practice hard and I will cheer for you two at the concert” He scooped you up and kissed you. With his small side bag and camera Taehyung and Yoongi lead you out, the three of you got onto the train after the hassle of obtaining a card to be eligible to ride.

The train ride was fun. The two boys spoke about their families and you all swapped your fondest memories you had of your families. Promising that one day you would take all the boys to visit your old home. 

“And I am allergic to ants did you know, their venom causes my body to edema, I mean swell,  where the bite is inflicted” You smiled and looked at them. They both looked at you a little weird, which made you laugh. You asked them to teach you some of their satoori and they happily obliged, Yoongi teaching you many rude things to say and made you three laugh wholeheartedly.

You were met at the train station by V’s parents and two younger siblings, you blushed hiding behind Yoongi. Taehyung introduced you to his family and everyone headed over to Apsan park, where Yoongi’s parents and older brother planning to meet them there. They were adamant to take you around Daegu and show you the sights.

Taehyung’s sister Eunjin was quite pretty, she had many qualities that reminded you of Taehyung and she had that bracelet on her arm that labeled her a child of the femme project. She seemed to be so excited to see you. She studied your foreign features and told you how pretty you were, blushing only brought more compliments about you being cute and shy. Arriving at Apsan you turned to the boys and whispered. “I need to use the bathroom”

Yoongi nodded his mouth pressed with a lack of emotion that was his way of saying go on then I will wait, you looked around and Eunjin took your hand. “I will take her Oppa, you can all head up we will take the next car” He nodded again expressionless and kissed your cheek and Taehyung did the same. “So how is my brother?”

“Ah Taehyung is sweet” you said flashes of his cuddly personality was quickly snuffed out by  memories of the dark look in his eyes.

You stepped into the cabin of the cable car with a group and you heard them talking, they were fussing over the older gentleman, trying to make him look good despite his whines. “You have to look good you are meeting your younger brothers Femme. We don’t want her to think bad of us”

“What is her name again?” The father said and the son sighed heavily before stating ‘y/n’

“I know we didn’t exactly support him when he said he wanted to join the Femme Project but he seems so happy and I couldn’t be more proud of him” She said smoothing out her blouse. “Do you think she will like my dress?”

“Definitely, it is a beautiful dress” You smiled at her “It compliments your skin tone and makes your eyes brighter. You look very stylish”

“Ah thank you” She blushed and you bowed as best you could in your seat.

“My name is Y/N. Yoongi has told me so much about you” The trip up the mountain was accompanied by childhood stories a good view and a surprise photo album of Yoongi growing up. “Oh how cute” 

You reached the restaurant at the top of the mountain mid way through your story about singing Christmas songs in the home studio. Having told them about how he worked hard and even rescued you from some bad people. She loved hearing about her son and you were happy to tell her everything. “I make the boys bento boxes and leaving embarrassing love notes in them, and he is a big cuddler”

Walking through the restaurant to the table you pulled out your phone where you had copied the photo of baby Yoongi. “Yoongi we should have a baby, look how cute you were” you showed him the picture and his mouth was parted and dry seeing you with his family and realizing you had seen his embarrassing childhood photos. “My favorite was your evil villain pose, it was so cute”

“Eomma!” he whined as his mum hugged him and the two families sat at the table striking conversations with one another over their meals. After the meal you all went to a museum and the markets. They all spoiled you but you snuck off and bought them each a little something with both Yoongi and Taehyung’s approval. Just to show your thanks and presented them at the end of the day.

“We should head back to Seoul so we get there before it gets too dark” Yoongi said looking at Taehyung’s puppy dog eyes and your pout.

“Why don’t you come back when the weather gets warm, you can stay on the farm, pick some strawberries and have a nice little vacation, you can bring all the boys. The more the merrier” Taehyung’s father gave a soft smile at you patting his son’s back in farewell and you headed into the station.

Femme Media 30

Next Chapter

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[bumblebeezandhoney]

How To Collect Stardust

Genre: Fluff/Strangers to Lovers/Slow Burn/Courtship/Faery AU

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Summary: Taehyung teaches YN how to collect stardust.

A/N: YN is Your Name. I know most reader inserted stories are in second person but I had this feeling I needed to write this in third person. Apologies if it sounds awkward. Hope everyone is healthy and safe.

Chapter 1

YN was bored.

She stood aimlessly in her kitchen. Migrating to her bedroom for a change of scenery, the poor thing found herself restless and uninspired. Self-isolation had never been so difficult. Seeing as there was nothing to do in her bedroom, YN sluggishly walked to her living room, dragging her feet against the plushed carpet which was cleaned twice this morning. 

YN had tried reading, painting, cleaning and even cooking but soon stopped for she feared she would run out of things to do for the rest of the day. It was only 1pm of day 42.

Frankly put, she was miserably bored and was in desperate need of company.

What was the saying? Misery loves company and...boredom? That sounded about right.

Boredom was like quicksand, she mused. The moment it touched you, it was nearly impossible to shake off. You found yourself sinking and sinking and sinking, until you were sucked into the pits of boredom with no hopes of escape. Where you die of boredom.

Or, thought YN to herself, boredom was more like a vampiric spirit that attached itself to you and sucked all feelings of enjoyment in doing anything. YN didn’t want to do anything but she also didn’t want to do nothing.

And so at 1:03pm on day 42 of self-isolation, she made herself comfortable in her balcony chair outside with her pink cactus of two months sitting snugly in her lap. Her plant, baptized Cactimus on day 12 of her self-isolation journey, was her great and only companion.

Being that she was on the second floor of the apartment building and facing the woods, YN didn’t have the best or worse view. She couldn’t see the top of the trees and she couldn’t closely admire her ground floor neighbor’s garden gnomes and faery doors. The area was deserted. YN stared blankly ahead and began counting the number of squirrels to pass by the time.  

Six squirrels later (was there some kind of family reunion?) YN saw her first human of the day. He was strolling leisurely, stopping on occasion to pick up a rock or a fallen leaf. 

“Is he carrying a wooden bucket?” she murmured to Cactimus as she furrowed her brow.

First-human-being-of-the-day was indeed carrying a wooden bucket, similar to what children would bring to the beach.

YN scoffed, amused at the idea.

The young man had long black hair and was dressed snugly in a red cardigan and dark brown slacks. He was too far away for YN to make out his features. Barefoot and without a care in the world, he swung his wooden bucket in one hand and in the other hand…was that a toy shovel?

YN burst into laughter.

That got the man’s attention. He stilled and turned to the sound of laughter.

YN stopped laughing.

“How on earth did he hear me,” YN whispered to Cactimus. Her heart quickened when she saw him approaching.

She leaned forward, feeling equally uneasy and curious.

Upon closer inspection at the nearing figure, YN was stunned to realize how good looking the young man was. Her heart quickened for a different reason.

“Six feet!” she blurted to the approaching stranger when she saw he wasn’t going to stop. Was he planning on climbing up her balcony??

The handsome man stopped. He cocked his hip to the side, stared up at YN and smiled.

“Is this six feet? Looks more like seven,” he teased, his voice deep and low. A shiver ran up YN’s spine. The man took a giant step forward.

YN didn’t know whether to laugh or frown. She settled on frowning.

“What are you doing? We’re supposed to be social distancing,” she reprimanded, her actions betraying her words as she leaned further to get a better view of the man.  

“We are social distancing. Unless you decide to jump down from your balcony. Sadly, due to the circumstances, I won’t catch you, as lovely as you are. Or should I say I shouldn’t catch you,” quipped the handsome man.

YN couldn’t stop the small smile on her face even if she tried. She would  always welcome a flirty, witty man’s company. She was starved for real life conversation and compliments. 

“What’s your-” hesitated YN.

“-name?” finished the young man.

Feeling shy, YN looked down at Cactimus before glancing at the stranger again.

“YN,” she said before realizing she was speaking too softly. She cleared her voice and said louder, “YN.”

“YN YN or YN? Either way, a very beautiful name,” said the young man cheekily.

How did he hear me the first time, she wondered to herself.

“Whatever you like. What about you?” YN said with a laugh, eyeing him with interest. “I’ve never seen you around.”  

“You can call me Taehyung,” Taehyung answered simply.

YN nodded. A second wave of shyness hit her.

Taehyung stared intently at YN. She suddenly felt awkward – at not knowing what to say and  at having a terribly handsome man standing in front of her balcony staring at her. It was odd to say the least.

YN coughed into her hand, her eyes darting before landing on his again. He was still staring.  

“I’m on my way to collect stardust. Would you like to join me?” he asked slowly, as if his invitation carried great significance.

YN didn’t know what to think of such a strange request. She blinked, hoping she heard wrong. Was he a little…touched?

“Uh…I’m sorry, what?” she asked in disbelief.

Taehyung smiled to himself and shook his head to then turn and walk away. YN stared at his retreating back in bewilderment. That’s it??

A sudden urge to sneeze came to YN. She achoo-ed three times in a row. With watery eyes she looked up to see Taehyung was gone.

YN could only laugh, shaking her head.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The sun was warmer the next day. YN was seated in her chair basking in the sun and fresh air. It was 12:55pm on day 43 of self-isolation. A long-forgotten book and iced peach drink lay beside her. In what she hoped was a languid manner, she glanced around, her eyes searching and wondering.

“Hello.”

YN startled. For the briefest of moments, she felt a puff of hot air tickling her left ear. She whipped around but found no one.

“Hello?” she called out tentatively, wondering if she’d receive a response.

A car honked in the distance.

YN sighed and grabbed her pink companion.

“I’m going crazy, aren’t I. To be fair, I’m only going crazy if I talk to no one and I hear something back,” she mused to Cactimus, lightly brushing imaginary dust off the plant.

“Hello,” said a deep, clear voice from below her balcony.

YN nearly dropped the cactus in surprise. Heart in her throat, she quickly glanced down to see Taehyung standing directly below her balcony.

“Oh hello Taehyung,” she said, a strange feeling settling on her tongue as she said his name. She couldn’t say she didn’t like it. It almost felt as if cotton candy was melting into her tongue. The sensation was gone as fast as it came.

And was it her imagination or did he shiver at the sound of her saying his name?

What an eccentric man, she thought.  

“Hello YN…or is it YN YN?” said Taehyung with a smile, as he shook his hair out of his eyes.

YN responded with a smile and a shrug. She filed away the fact it was the second time Taehyung asked for her name. She would ponder about that later.

A moment passed between them as YN studied him. He was barefoot again, this time dressed in a flowered dress shirt with pink dress pants. There were so many questions YN wanted to ask. Where were his shoes? And his bucket and shovel? Why was he back?

And why was he holding a bouquet of yellow roses?

As if reading her mind, Taehyung glanced down at the bouquet in his hands. He raised the bouquet as if he had the mind to give it to her.

YN didn’t know what to do. Hesitating, she reached down to accept the roses. Just as YN was about to grasp the bouquet, it fell from Taehyung’s grip. Their hands touched. His hands were long and strong, his fingers ghosting over her wrist before cradling YN’s hand. Just as fast as it happened, he let go. Warmth blossomed in YN’s palm and chest.

A giddiness overcame her. She had the strongest urge to do something – laugh, dance, sing, cheer!

“Oh no,” he said, the faux surprise in his voice sounding ludicrous to YN’s ears.

“You did that on purpose,” she said, wanting to laugh.  

“I did not,” Taehyung replied, his eyes twinkling. If she was a lesser woman she would have swooned.

“Yes you did,” insisted YN.

“You could come down and retrieve them yourself,” he suggested.

“Are they for me Taehyung?” countered YN bravely. Taehyung’s ears turned bright red.

He opened his mouth, thought twice about it, spun around and started briskly walking away. For the second time, YN stared at his retreating back. The man was near running away by the looks of it.  

“Where are you going?” she spluttered. Had she scare him off?

She sighed, resting her hand on her cheek. Feeling a pinprick on her cheek, YN glanced down at her hand – the hand held by Taehyung – and saw the shiniest, brightest jeweled ring on her middle finger.

“What!” she exclaimed, not believing her eyes.

A cluster of yellow stones circled the golden band. YN brought her hand up in front of her. She had never seen anything so bright, so clear and so yellow. Suddenly remembering the fallen yellow roses, she peered below the balcony. There was nothing there. She looked up.

Taehyung was gone as well.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: Tada~! Here is my attempt at fluff and slow burn. I had horrible writer’s block for the past week and then this lovely, sweet, soft, pure story came to me out of the blue. I have a soft spot for faeries and I hope I do this story justice. I will try to keep each chapter at least 1k words. I know it’s not a lot but I’m trying to get into the habit of writing more frequently. Enjoy! Please let me know what you think <3

[theasstour]

WAYWARD TRAVELLERS.

PART 24 OF THE 25 DAYS OF SUMMER BY @always-jackedup the one where you and harry are on your way to a couple’s retreat at a friend’s cabin when you start fighting, and are forced to pull over when a massive thunderstorm prevents you from driving further.

A/N: i’ve had the honour of working with sarah for the second time on a project i find to be very important for the fic community on tumblr. her 25 days unify us all for a month, to tell 25 different tales, in 25 different ways, by 25 different writers. if you haven’t already checked all of them out, click that link above and you might just find your new fave writer! anyway, without further ado, here’s my contribution! hope you like make up sex enjoy, brothers!⚡⚡

MASTERLIST | ASKBOX | WORD COUNT: 10k NB: explicit language, fighting, sexual content

You and Harry had been an item for nearly four years now. It hadn’t been love at first sight, it hadn’t really been love at second sight either. Working at a café near his house in Hampstead, he had come in to get his breakfast every single morning when he was in home in London. While you made his breakfast for him, the two of you would always strike up a conversation, talking about what he had been up to and what type of classes you were taking that semester of uni. You had always liked his music, but for some reason, you always underestimated how well-known he actually was. He was just a customer you usually talked you as he came in to order when he was in town. But as time went on, the interest in the other increased. Suddenly, you were thinking about each other all the time, which was not ideal for you as he was always away and you were either working or busy with uni. One day, that changed.

Two years of him being the customer and you being the barista, he finally got the nerve to ask you out on a date. It was early in the morning, maybe around 6am when he was done with his morning run, so no one was working except you and one other barista. An old man sat by the window and your co-worker was getting stuff from the backroom, meaning the two of you were left alone. You remember the flush of his cheekbones as the question slipped from between his pink lips, the neon yellow hairband in his hair, the black glacier and white shorts. It was the clearest memory you had to date; it started the rest of your life; a life you were sure you’d share with Harry. But recently, you hadn’t been so sure.

It had been building up to this, you knew that. Ever since the end of tour last year, Harry had promised you he would spend most of his time off with you, seeing as his busy life all of 2017 and 2018 had prevented him from that. Together in your shared London house, the two of you would spend full months together, being the loved-up couple everyone knew you to be. Though you and Harry rarely were overly touchy in public, rather saving it for later when you were in private, your friends had always envied the relationship you had with Harry. It was an effortless, passionate connection the two of you had, which was hard to find and once you did, you didn’t let go. But for a long time now, that was all you had wanted to do; let go.

The promise Harry had made didn’t seem to be as important as he had let on. Instead of spending time with you – which he had rarely done since launching his solo path – he had done a lot of other stuff to benefit his career. Every single step of the way, you stood by his side, rooting for him and being the first person to give him a hug… The first person to give him a hug at the airport when he came back from wherever he had been, that was. He had flown to New York City a couple of times, Canada, Mexico, Italy, though you had been too busy with work, friends, and family to tag along, and each time he came back, he seemed a little more tense. Whenever he got tense, you did too, and when both were, it led to no good.

The shared house you owned in Hampstead was colder now than it had been with you first moved in together two years ago. Not only was autumn on the way, the late summer air of August slowly turning chiller with the arrival of the new season, but the mere atmosphere of the house was different. Something had happened between the two of you. Though you walked around not knowing what, deep down, you knew.

It was the lack of effort on Harry’s end. Ever since you graduated uni and got your new job, you hadn’t been as available as you had been whilst still in university. Though Harry kept telling you he didn’t mind you not tagging along on tour or come with him to New York City to join him at the Met Gala because you were busy adjusting to your new job, you knew he did. And though you kept telling Harry it was fine that he didn’t attend the Christmas party at your work or that he forgot to call you when you had planned to FaceTime at a specific time, it really was not fine at all.

He had been travelling a lot recently, busy with his career and other projects. Meanwhile, you had been busy with your own life back in London and everything that came with it. It was your mate’s idea for you and Harry to take a week off at his log cabin in the quiet hills of Exmoor National Park, right on the edge of Somerset and Devon. With stunning views of the sea and the next neighbour almost a kilometre away, it would be the perfect getaway. When you told him about everything and how little either of you were willing to make it better, he immediately thought of a plan.

“It’s going to be good for you,” he reasoned, raising his eyebrows as you discussed this over lunch at work. “Get away from the busy life in the big city and live on the countryside for a bit. It’s great for hikes as well, and since it’s summer you can even go for a swim in the sea. Though it’s very cold.”

You sighed, thinking about it. “I’ll have to check his schedule.”

“Can’t you just suggest a date and have him answer? It’ll be easier to just talk about it.” Your colleague gave you a smile. “I’ll give you the keys. You and Harry are going to Exmoor, you need this.”

He was right; you two did need this. Once you got home and aired the idea of you two going away to Exmoor together to spend some time alone, to get away for a bit, Harry glanced up at you from the food he was making. Eyebrows raised and a red apron over his joggers.

“For how long?” He had asked, voice a little darker than it usually was. You guessed he had acquired a cold you hadn’t noticed till now. Your heart stung at that.

“Maybe a week or so, depends on how much time you’ve got on your hands.”

Harry flipped something, running his tongue along the outside of his top row of teeth. His eyes left yours, nodding his head a few times while leaning his arm against the kitchen counter. “Let me check once I’m done with dinner.”

You felt yourself grip the doorway into the kitchen a little harder. For some reason, the fact that Harry looked away from you, aggravated you more than the conversation you were having. “I could call Jeff.”

“You don’t have his new number.” Harry retorted, moving his jaw as if he was chewing gum. He always chewed gum when he was stressed out, but he didn’t seem to have anything in his mouth.

“Alright.” You nodded, deciding that you could not do this anymore. “I’ll let you do it then.”

He didn’t show any signs of having heard her, though she knew he had.

“What’re you making?” You asked, trying to strike up a friendly conversation about nothing important in particular.

“Ribbony shrimp and pasta scampi.” Harry answered, still not glancing up at his girlfriend. He turned his back on you, fixing something on the counter behind him. The talk you tried to have with him dying just as fast as it had begun. Taking a deep breath, you cracked some of your knuckles before turning around, back to back. Telling yourself to not overreact, that you had no reason to overthink any of this, you walked up the stairs and into the bathroom. There you threw some water in your face so you wouldn’t see the tears running down your own cheeks.

It was all getting worse and worse, and you had no idea how the two of you had gotten to this point. You had fought before, tons of times in fact, but nothing even remotely as cold and for as long as this. Harry didn’t feel like your boyfriend anymore, didn’t feel like your best friend of four years, and your living partner. There was something different about him, something different about the two of you. Somewhere along the way, the two of you had started isolating yourselves for some reason. You knew the reason why you were mad at Harry, but you had no idea why he was furious with you. If you didn’t confront each other before the potential trip to Exmoor, then you would fight once you got there, and to be honest, at this point, you would take any sort of emotion you got out of Harry.

Harry got some days off, and the two of you started on your way to Exmoor the second to last Saturday morning of summer. He was driving and you were sitting in the passenger seat, answering a few e-mails and trying to get everything done before you arrived in Somerset. The sun that had been hanging over London most of the summer, wasn’t there today. She was covered by a thick layer of white and greying clouds, making the mood all the gloomier. Most of the drive was quiet, the radio playing relaxing tunes that made you occasionally doze off for a few minutes before you woke up again. There wasn’t much to look at when driving, though, and you ran out of things to count and signs to read. You felt Harry’s cold body language to your right the entire trip, not knowing why he sat there looking as emotionless as he did.

This was how he got when he was mad: he shut you out. Eventually he would break and tell you what was bothering him, but most of the time – okay, maybe all the time -, the problem wasn’t you. But this time around, you knew it was. Something about how far this had been taken told you that this had been building up for a little too long. That thought alone made your entire body ache. Though you were pissed at Harry for always being away and rarely prioritising his relationship with you, you were also getting mad at him being mad at you and not doing anything about it. Your fingers prickled with annoyance, brain going into a tornado about what would happen this week now that the goal was to spend all your time together.

It took everything in you not to shout at Harry to say something, to get it all on the table so you could start talking about stuff again. Though you were sitting in the same car, it felt like he was hundreds of miles away, distancing himself to the point of if killing the both of you and what you had. You were closing in on Exmoor National Park, the roads narrow and small. You knew that if you had been driving, you would never have been driving the car as fast as Harry was. You knew that once Harry sat down behind the wheel, he usually sped away as he wanted to get to his final destination as quickly as possible. This was always something you didn’t like, as speed would scare you, especially when you didn’t even know what was waiting for you further down the road you were driving on. You held onto the seat, clenching your jaw and instinctively pressing your right foot down as if you could press the breaks yourself.

The first drops of rain hit the car, and this was the first time you noticed just how dark the skies above you were. You had heard talk of a huge thunderstorm looming over Southern England this weekend, but you hadn’t actually thought you’d be affected by it. The rain picked up, and soon it was pouring worse than it had in what felt like years. Glancing down at the map on your phone to see where you were going, you tried to make out your surroundings as the rain just kept on getting worse and worse.

Harry didn’t slow down though. The weather was horrible, your heart was hammering wild with panic in your chest, and you had no chance of seeing where you were going. Taking a deep breath, you tried to lean forward and squint through the oncoming rain to make out a gravel road through the blur in front of you. You sighed.

“You don’t have to drive so fast,” you started, not registering the words leaving your lips till it was too late. “I can barely see anything.”

“Sorry,” he sighed right back at you. “Just trying to get us to that cabin so we don’t have to drive around in a thunderstorm.”

“We already are.” You stated, glancing down at your phone and then up again. “Here.” Pointing at the small gravel road a bit further down, Harry stepped down on the breaks.

This threw you forward a bit, taken aback by how harshly Harry seemed to be treating his Audi. Finally, he was slowing down, knowing that the rain and gravel did not do well together, it would undoubtably make for quite a crash if he drove too fast.

“Thanks.” You muttered, feeling everything going on right now really taking a toll on you.

Harry didn’t as much as raise an eyebrow when he asked, in a deep voice, “What?”

That was the start of it, you knew. The impassive behaviour he’d had going on for months was finally cracking. His voice always got deeper before a fight, like he was trying to hold back, and as the argument increased in heat, it would go up a pitch, something it tended to do when he was shouting. You two rarely shouted at each other though, but for some reason, you had a feeling that would be the case in just a few.

“Just don’t want us to die on our way to a couples retreat.” You explained, glancing down at your phone to see if you were there soon.

“You’re criticising my driving now?”

“I’m just saying you don’t have to step on the gas constantly.”

Harry huffed.

You looked over at him. “What?”

He shrugged. “Just don’t get why you always drive 10 under the speed limit, but you don’t see me complaining.”

“You are just now.”

“Maybe you should drive then, since you don’t drive as dangerous and fast as I do.”

“You shouldn’t be driving recklessly when it’s storming out!”

Just then, you heard the rumble of thunder in the distance. The rain got heavier and heavier, making it almost impossible to even make out the gravel road ahead. This made Harry really slow down. Lowering his window and sticking his head out to see further down the road, he drove over to a smaller road leading off the one they were now driving on. It was impossible to drive on in this weather, both of you seemed to agree on that at least. Though you were blocking the path out for those living in the house down this tiny road, you did not think they would mind as no one would be dumb about to venture out in this kind of weather.

Harry put the car in park, raised his window back up, and turned the radio off as you had stopped getting signal a while ago. The motor rumbled as you two just sat there in silence, listening to the thunder and lightening outside, the rain that seemed would go on forever. For the longest time, you expected Harry would be the first one to talk, but he didn’t say a word. Even now when you had just been arguing, he wasn’t willing to put in the effort. You guessed you had to do it yourself like you did most things for the two of you as a couple. Turning your body in his direction, you caught his eyes making their way to your frame ever so slowly. You wasted no time.

“This has been going on for too long.” You said, watching as Harry’s mouth drew into a stern line. “You keep treating me so badly and I treat you badly in return, we need to talk.”

“Guess you want to go first.” Though it sounded like a question, you knew it wasn’t.

“What does that mean?”

“Means you always want to start stuff and I’m assuming you want the first word now as well.”

You felt your back hit the passenger side door, stunned that Harry would say something like that. You huffed, sensing it was something that had annoyed him. “If you insist.” You said, taking the opportunity if Harry was going to be an arse about it just out of spite.

He raised his eyebrows, staring straight ahead.

“I’m starting to get fed up with how little effort you put into our relationship.”

This had Harry’s gaze land on you, eyes a little wider than they usually were.

“We’ve been together for four years, known each other for longer, and you’ve never cared less about me, our home, and what we have, than you have this last year. I understand that you have work and I respect you wanting to do the stuff you love, but don’t lose your home and the people that care about you in the process.”

Harry’s jaw clenched. “Ever thought that doing all of these Gucci campaigns and traveling is because when I’m ‘home’ you never are? I’m alone.”

“You’re not alone. When you’re home, I’m home.”

“But you’re not.” Harry took a deep breath. “You’re not. You’re at work or you’ve got plans with friends.”

“Are you getting mad at me having a social life?”

“Are you getting mad at me for having a successful career?”

Your mouth fell open. “You know I’d never be mad at you for that, I’m proud of you and what you’ve achieved.”

“Right.” Harry had the audacity to let out a sarcastic chuckle, running his index and thumb along his nose before he spoke again. “Right. You’re not mad.”

“I’m not mad at your success, you absolute dickhead!” You couldn’t help but shout now, it didn’t seem to take Harry by surprise, however. “I’m mad because it feels like I’m becoming less important than said success!”

Harry furrowed his brows. “Less important?”

“Yes! You always have appointments when I ask you to stay home or tag along to a work party or if you want to go out for a date!”

Harry turned to face you properly now, leaning his elbow against the back of the driver seat. “You never ask!”

“I do- I did.” You groan, running your hands through your hair. “I ask, but it’s become less frequent because you constantly reject me!”

“I’ve got work!”

“Well, so do I, but I always try to make time for you! For us!”

“I have a suggestion then,” Harry said, now pointing at her. “How about you don’t always ask me when it’s best for you, how about you ask me when I’m free instead?!”

You huffed, barely audible over the rain crashing against every outer surface of the car. “Are you taking the piss?”

“We need to compromise!” Harry was shouting even louder now. “You need to listen to me! You’re too busy with your new job, your new mates, and your new life in London to even think to make time for me unless it fits your timetable!”

“Oh, my God, Harry, you do realise we’ve always worked around your work schedule, yeah?!” You yelled right back. “Ever since we started dating when I was still in uni, I always had to come out when all your family and everyone else were! It was never a question of when was best for me! Guess I assumed you were okay with me making plans for you like you made plans for me!”

Harry ran a frustrated hand over his face. “Right, that was shitty of me, I’m sorry. I’m just fucking tired of never bloody seeing you anymore. It’s like ever since you made a new life for yourself, the life you have with me isn’t your top priority like it used to be.”

“Then how the fuck do you think I feel after all these years when you made work appointments first and informed me second?”

“I don’t need to bloody run my work schedule by you!”

“I’m not saying you need to! I’m telling you that it would be nice if you informed me before they were finalised!” You look out the window, the rain and thunder in the background seeming never-ending. “We’re a fucking team.”

“Then you need to start doing the same.”

“My work doesn’t make me travel, Harry, I’m always in London.” You looked back at him again. “Always waiting for you.”

He just stared at you for a little while, taking in your last words. “So the problem is me not being in London?”

“No, it’s you thinking your work is more important than mine!” You land a hand against your chest, feeling the terrified thumping of your heart. Thunder almost shook through the car, the heart of the storm was getting much closer. “That’s what started all of this!”

“I don’t fucking think that!”

“Why do I get that impression then?!”

“Don’t fucking know! Maybe because you used to sit around at home not doing anything until you got one, and now you’re busy! So busy in fact that you don’t have time for me any longer!”

You frowned. “I make time for you!”

“I’m constantly alone!” That tore through your soul, made your heart shatter. You felt the agony in the breaking of his voice. “I have friends and family and all that, but I don’t feel like I’ve got you anymore!”

This stopped you completely. You suddenly realised you were both leaning forward in your seats, having gotten closer and closer to shouting right in each other’s faces. Harry’s words hurt you. The fact that he had been feeling this way and that was the reason why he had been so passive aggressive these last few months, it tore at everything within you. It made you feel very bad. But at the same time-

“Then you know how I feel when you’re continually travelling.”

His eyes twitched, as if he didn’t think that would be the response.

“I’m always alone and I always miss you. It’s not like I don’t want to spend time with you when you’re home, but…”

“But what?” His words were harsh.

“You’ve been so cold these last few months that I really have not wanted to be home with you anyway!” It felt good to finally say it, but seeing Harry blink a few times, something he always did when he was shocked and hurt, broke your heart all over again. “If you had just fucking talked to me earlier about all of this, then we wouldn’t be here right now!”

“And if you had just been home, then maybe I would have had the chance to!”

“It’s not like I haven’t been home!”

“You’re telling me I should’ve talked about feeling lonely earlier, but it sounds like you’ve been feeling the same way for a while as well! Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“I don’t know!”

Harry’s frown deepened. “I don’t believe that!”

“I don’t really care what you believe or not, it’s the truth! I don’t know why I didn’t bring it up, but I guess I should’ve-“

“-I was fucking terrified, okay?!” Harry shouted, jaw tense. “Terrified that if I did, you’d leave! Maybe because you love your work and you would think I was trying to make you quit, when that’s not the case! Maybe because you’re doing so well for yourself and telling you I’m feeling lonely, that I want you to spend more time with me, sounds selfish! Maybe because I feel like you’re slipping through my fingers and I don’t want to fucking lose you!”

You both stop. Thunder washes over you with the rain, getting more intense as the minutes went on. But right then, the only thing you cared about, was the fact that Harry had just admitted what had started everything. He was lonely, afraid to bring it up in case of misunderstanding, and afraid to lose you. It all made sense now. You felt bad for everything, like it had started for nothing, because you would never even consider leaving Harry for something like this. You had worked through things before, you would work through this, but it was the fact that none of you had been able to confront the other that led you to this moment. Swallowing thickly, you noticed Harry inhaling till he couldn’t no more. A look was exchanged, holding all the longing and scratched out words you both had accumulated over the last few weeks. Though you still felt hurt, it was starting to wither as you realised the cause of everything was the mortification of the two of you not being endgame.

The leaning into one another was mutual, slowly finding a way toward one another for the first time in what felt like years. A shaky break met your cupid bow, feeling hot against the tender skin of your lips. Your eyes fell to his lips, taking them in where they were just before your own, knowing the taste of feel of them by memory, but always eager to seek them out for reassurance and the flavour of eternity. Once you glanced up at him again, you found his eyes moving with yours, needing to look into yours for confirmation before he did anything. They were slightly hooded, an expression he always got when he wanted you. Seeing them again reminded you of all those other times, when he had looked at you like that while you were sitting on the sofa at home, or at a BBQ with friends, or when you were at the shops together, or any other normal scenario where he would just stare at you for a while, his desire for you intense. When your lips parted, a puff of air from you landing on his lips, Harry slid his tongue slightly and slowly over his bottom lip, wetting them as you watched him hungrily.

“Terrified of losing you.” Harry mumbled, voice dark and dripping with sincerity and lust. “Can’t lose you.”

You tilted your chin, stroking his nose lightly.

His jaw trembled a little before he finally leaned into you, kissing you hard. The wetness of his hair hit your forehead, a raindrop running down your temple and down to your jawline, where it fell to its destruction. Harry pressed his lips against yours, needing to feel you there with him, to feel the familiar shape, feel, taste of you to make everything better. It had been so long since you even shared a kiss, the fact that you were now made the butterflies in the pit of your stomach flutter alive again. You gripped onto his shoulders, steadying yourself a little as the kiss intensified. The emotions inside of you made you slightly dizzy, your brain shutting down the logical side of it that screamed at you to fix this before anything could happen. But the other part, that part that had longed for Harry and this, you decided to listen to that part. Because Harry kissing you like this again, feeling him there, wanting the same as you, it was everything.

He brought his hands up, cupping your face in his hands and holding you in place. It seemed he genuinely was terrified of you leaving, the slight tremble of his fingers and the frantic way his tongue and lips sought you out told you so. Outside, the rain didn’t seem to have an end to it. It poured onto the car, it sounded like a thousand determined footsteps against the car, like someone was running above you. And by the beating inside your chest and the thumping inside your ear, it seemed like your heart was doing the same thing. Running back to Harry’s. As your hands slid down his chest, under his beige cardigan, you felt his heart beating just as fast as yours. The thunderstorm outside matched the one going on between you inside the car.

He broke away, kissing the side of your mouth and swiftly kissing along your jaw. You closed your eyes, loving the soft nibbles and wet peck he left. Tilting your head, resting his thumb on your chin, it made for better access to your neck, which he used his time on. The show of affection seemed grander than anything he had done before, like he was both furious and sad at the same time. At the bottom of it all, was the need to please you, to show you that he was still so very deeply in love with you, and that nothing would ever change that. He was rough, kissing up he centre of your neck, the open-mouthed kisses letting you feel both his teeth and tongue. You let a breath of relief slip from between your parted lips, letting Harry guide your head so he could kiss his way all over you.

His lips hovered over yours once he reached them again, eyes fixed on them before he met yours. You were both panting, completely losing your breath over how much you suddenly needed one another. In the middle of an argument, not even with a solution yet, and neither had the will to stop any of this. Leaning forward to kiss him again, Harry retracted, preventing you from doing so. You glanced up at him again. The hunger in his eyes fought through any sense of right-doing, neither of you were yourselves it seemed. Longing mixed with erotic feelings and the heat of the argument all mixed together made it impossible to fight the urge to fuck each other senseless.

He let his hands slip from where they rested on your neck, slowly sliding down your front. Thumb laid a little extra pressure over your breasts, trying to get a reaction from you when he passed your nipples. The lips that had been resting centimetres apart were attach to each other again, the heavy breathing and frenzied hands heating up the moment. You felt his hands reach your thighs. Thank fuck you had decided to wear a white summer dress today, airy and easy to remove. His fingers fumbled for the hem of them, wanting to feel the bareness of your sensitive skin underneath his tips. As he slid it up your thighs, you felt the shake to his hands again, like he couldn’t quite believe this was happening, like he was afraid of fucking all of this up.

Once your dress was far enough up, he moved his right hand between your legs. You hummed into his mouth, gripping hard onto the back of his neck, opening your mouth wider for him. His middle and ring finger pressed their way between them, thumb, index and little finger resting at your thighs as he focused on feeling you out. He stroked gently over you, teasing you like you knew he liked to do. Laying next to no pressure on you and letting you beg for it yourself. However, you just kissed him harder, he would know how badly you were turned on then. He breathed harshly against you, biting onto your bottom lip for a few seconds before he kissed the side of your mouth, opening his eyes to look at you when he spoke.

“Feel that?” He asked, placing his ring finger on the hem of your knickers, the soft skin leading down to your centre. Ring finger laid right over your cunt. “Do you, baby?”

You moaned, trying to bring his lips back to yours. You nibbled at his jaw as he continued to speak.

“Feel how you pulsate for me?” The delicate force of his ring finger once he asked that question was heavenly. He put just enough weight on your knickers to feel between your folds, deliberately making his way up. “Want me to do anything about that? Huh?” He reached your clit, rubbing his ring finger slowly from side to side.

“Harry.” You gasped, gripping onto the hair at the back of his neck.

“Want me to bury my face between your pretty legs?” He watched as you closed your eyes at the small source of relief his finger brought. It completely took your breath away, the intense hold Harry had on you when it come to your body. He could make you feel so good that it quite literally felt like all the power and love the universe had to give, all came together between your cores when you shagged. It had quite honestly almost made you black out once. Yeah. It could be quite intense. So, when he asked that, knowing full well that you had gone a few months without any sort of orgasm, you prepared yourself for a similar situation. You welcomed it with open arms, though.

“Yes.” You answered, trying to kiss him again, but he moved away. You opened our eyes then, looking up at him looking at you.

“Backseat.” Harry said, grumbling almost, and it sent tons of shivers down your spine.

You didn’t hesitate. Climbing into the back of the car, you settled yourself into the seat behind Harry’s and he quickly followed suit. Pressing a button by the driver side seat, the set moved forward, a little too slowly for either of your tastes. You giggled a little, Harry whipping his head in your direction.

“What?”

He removed his hand from the button by the seat, all the while holding your glance. Vulnerability somewhere in his irises, mixing with the lust he felt for you. Before you got to ask him again, he sat down in the space behind the driver seat, right in front of you. It seemed urgent, like he could not wait another second, and he let his hands travel up your legs, hooking his fingers around your knickers. He slid them down, throwing them in the back of the car before he brought his attention back to you. Luckily for the both of you, the seats were tall, making the access to your cunt easier. Placing both of your thighs on either of his shoulders, he urged you to push your dress further up. You bit your lip, feeling your centre prickle with anticipation and desire. Everything inside you sang as you felt his breath against the inside your thigh, knowing what was coming next. About to ask him if he was sure this was what he wanted, that he didn’t just want to fuck, he dragged you closer towards the edge of the seat and attached his lips to you.

“Oh!” You instantly took a grip of the headrest behind you, needing something to grip onto as you felt Harry’s tongue on you.

He slid it wide from your hole and all the way up to your clit, where he paid a little extra attention and laid it flat, flicking it once. He did the same again, now teasing you a little by letting his tongue enter your hole ever so slightly before he ran it back up again, loving the tremble that went through your body as he reached and put soft force on your bud.

With that, you succumbed to pleasure. Lightening struck and thunder rumbled, but all you could focus on was Harry’s tongue and how his arms were twined around your thighs, holding you in place. All your time together, Harry had always enjoyed eating you out, and you had always loved it when he did it. He left no spot untouched by his slick tongue, always focused on the parts that he knew would make your back arch and your lips part to let go of a loud moan. There wasn’t a place in your shared house where he hadn’t asked you to do it. You on the kitchen counter while you were waiting for your dinner to be done, during a movie night, in the shower, in the basement when you were having a barbeque upstairs, on the balcony on a hot summer’s day. He was always eager to please, always eager to see how fast he could make you climax this time around.

You felt him tighten his grip on your thighs, tipping his head a little to the side as to gain better access to flick your clit. His wet hair laid against your thigh, cooling against the hotness of your body. As you let a whimper pass your lips, your let go of the headrest, instead gripping onto your breasts. Harry looked up at you, loving it when you did that. Though he would much rather they were exposed to the humid air inside the car, he didn’t want you to ruin your dress. However, he was also starting to give little to no fucks about anything but your orgasm. Whatever happened before then, he didn’t care for. So, he moved his head to the other side, not taking his eyes off you as he continued to run his tongue fast over your clit.

“Yes.” You moaned, not really an answer to anything, much rather an encouragement for Harry to keep doing what he was doing.

The bubble of pleasure you were familiar with started to really form, getting bigger and bigger with each stroke of Harry’s tongue. Your hand reached for the window, for some kind of support, while the other one buried itself in his lush curly hair. Letting your glance rest on the window for a second, you noticed the condensation from the inside, the raindrops running down the outside of the car as the storm continued to rage on. A line of sweat dotted your hairline, your palms were clammy, your centre was undoubtably hot with the oncoming orgasm. As you glanced down, the burning of the pleasure bubble inside your core intensified. Harry’s green eyes were on you, devouring you like he’d never done before.

As he sat there between your legs, your taste on his tongue and your hand in his hair, he came to realise just how much he had missed this. Missed being between your legs and having the best view the world had to offer, you climaxing on his tongue, trembling under him. There was something special about you when you came, something he had never experienced before with anyone else. He was sure it did enough for him to just watch you, hearing your soft purrs and words of encouragement, words of praise. He felt like a king when he was down here, making you feel as good as can be. He pursed his lips, sucking on your bud.

“Fuck.” You whispered, your other hand also coming to rest in his hair.

You kept tugging at him as he continued to suck on you, watching you as you grew more and more frantic. Movements rugged as you felt the climax closing in on you. He let your clit off with a pop, before licking over it hastily. He was holding onto your thighs tighter now, not letting you move as much as you wanted to. You needed to stay in one place, but you kept shifting, not knowing what to do with yourself as the climax tingled roughly in your abdomen, down your thighs, up to your ribcage. He wrapped his lips around your clit again, sucking on it. Now you went still, craning your neck, your lips parted. Harry hummed, sending delicious vibrations through you, and making you come.

You felt it in your entire body. Once the bubble burst, it felt like your entire body was on fire. It was heavenly, like feeling everything good on the planet at once. It lashed out to all your limbs and made your thighs shake; your heart thumping fast. You felt only Harry in those blissful seconds that followed; his tongue and lips and hands and hair. A world of him and you; a world where nothing but you two mattered. You were moaning uncontrollably, unable to control yourself as Harry kept licking you and sucking till you had calmed down. Your fingers beat with your heart, it was hard to catch your breath, like you had just been running a mile. One final long lick, and Harry removed his mouth from around you. Slowly, you let go of his hair, feeling your hands were wet from the rain that had hit him earlier. You closed your eyes, letting yourself come down from that mind-blowing orgasm. He really knew what he was doing when he went down on you, it always left you like this.

Humming, you felt your core pulsate along with your heart, a small smile fluttering over your lips while you sat there feeling content. When you opened your eyes again, Harry was still sitting between your legs, taking you in, eyes moving over your face like he was for the first time really valuing what was in front of him in a long time. He put your feet on either side of him, resting his hands on your thighs as he hunched, kissing you again. You brought him closer, letting your back hit the back of the seat so he could rest his knee between your parted thighs, your right leg between both of his. He leaned his hands on the seat on either side of your frame, preventing himself from colliding into you. It was just like before he had gone down on you, rough and urgent, like you needed more more more. You needed more of him and he needed more of you.

“Fuck me,” You begged, lightly digging your nails into his neck. “Please.”

Harry growled, kissing you harder. “Need to know something before I do that, baby.”

You opened your eyes as Harry did, panting in unison.

“Need to know you’re not leaving.” He said, swallowing thickly. “Need to know we’re not leaving this trip without seeing eye to eye.”

Your mouth opened, feeling at a loss for words for a little second.

“Please.” He said, taking a grip of your frame and laying you down in the seats.

“Harry…” You mumbled, hands to your chest as you glanced into his eyes, his right hand undoing the button and zipper of his trousers.

“Tell me.” He urged, lifting your dress before he pushed his trousers and boxers down. “I can’t-“ He stopped himself as he brought his cock out. “Can’t not know. We’re not having sex unless-“

“-I’m never leaving you, Harry.”

He seemed to stop breathing, staring down at you with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry I made you think I wanted to.” You licked your lips, shaking your head. “Don’t ever want you to leave me either. You’re my person.” He brought a hand up to his cheek, rubbing your thumb over it. “For life.”

His jaw trembled a bit again, and he looked down between you guys as he positioned himself between your legs. Easing into you, you bit your lip and arched your back, enjoying how full he made you feel.

“For life.” He repeated, moving out of you before he slammed back in.

You gasped, gripping his upper arms. With this, he fucked you hard. Skin on skin, deep into you, and hard against your hips. He groaned as the feeling of you all around him took over, something so familiar, yet something that had been alien for so long. He leaned down, kissing your neck like he had done earlier, but now he wasn’t being as nice. Biting you lightly, kissing you hard, nose often colliding with your jaw. It was clumsy, but rough, bodies slamming into one another to create orgasms that would shake up both of you. It was like you were getting all kinds of frustration out on one another; gripping each other cruelly, kissing each other like it was a punishment. Your leg rested against the seat while the other one was entwined with Harry’s leg, if you rested it atop his hip, it would likely only be extra weight for him, and he wouldn’t be able to go as roughly as he was now.

Harry took a grip of your hair, tilting your head in his direction. “Always liked it best when I fuck you hard, haven’t you?”

You moaned, digging your nails into his back. He held you like that, watching you draw closer and closer to the edge.

Fact was, you had. When Harry was rough with you, it felt like something else was born between the two of you. It was almost animalistic; gripping, groaning, clawing as the pleasure of it all became too much. You were always careful not to hurt the other one, but by this point you knew the limits, you knew the other person, so you never went where the other one didn’t want to. Especially make up sex was something you were good at. Getting all of your frustration out in one quick, hard shag felt better than anything. Not only were you okay afterward, but it felt good in the meantime. You were mad at the other one, but you were also falling deeper in love with them, getting a further understanding of both your relationship and the person you were sharing it with. Yes, you would talk everything through afterwards, but after a session like this, you calmed down. It made it easier to talk about everything.

Harry let go of the tight grip he had on your hair, rather holding onto it just barely. You felt the whole car move with you two, you were suddenly very happy no one would ever see this. The heart of the storm was upon you, the lightning striking hard, the thunder rumbling through the earth underneath you. All the while, the rain kept falling hard. But this didn’t stop you two. Harry watched you as you arched your back, as your moans got louder, as everything seemed to start to crumble around you.

As he fucked you, - felt you all over his body, felt his soul entwine with yours – he realised just how scared he had been of losing you. It was like knowing you would get bad new, but all the while hoping you wouldn’t receive them after all. A relief so immense it felt like it grew him wings took over, and he leaned his forehead against yours. He hadn’t received bad news though, because you had just told him you weren’t leaving him. After months of thinking you were trying to make him break up with you, he had finally heard what he needed to hear. He had never been as scared of anything but what his life would be like without you, because he was so completely and wholly in love with you. A life where the two of you weren’t together didn’t seem like a real one. He was mad at himself for not confronting you earlier, and mad at you for not doing the same.

“Harry,” you said, bringing him back to reality. “Look at me.”

“I am.”

“No,” you bit your lip as not to moan. “You’re distant. Look at me.”

He did, lips parted as he slowed his movements. You let go of our lips, purring as he rocked in and out of you in a steady and deep rhythm. Everything slowed down and you felt all his attention on you. The distant look in his eyes before, like he was thinking abut everything between heaven and earth, like he was far from being present, made you realise just how much you two needed to be. You hugged him to you, letting his body fall onto yours so that you were as close as could be. You moved with him, hooking your legs around him to bring him even deeper. While you two were close to climax, you didn’t take your eyes off of one another. Everything in Harry’s gaze and his body language told you he was there, fully and till the end.

“I’m looking,” he said, voice horse. “Always. I’ve always looked for you.”

His movements were sloppy now, though they did you in just as good as the phase before. You rested your hands at the back of his neck, tugging lightly at the hairs there as you knew he liked it when you did that. With everything, your lips brushed one another, your eyelashes something fluttering against each other.

“For life.” Harry repeated, kissing you once.

You couldn’t help your smile, but it was cut short as the second orgasm as brought on. Arching your back, holding on to Harry for dear life, you came. He kissed your neck, listening to your cries of pleasure and loving the way you kept on repeating his name. The flames that had rocked through your body earlier were intensified now, overwhelming you in the best way possible. Together, you came down from your orgasms, clinging to one another the whole time. You had never felt closer to him than you did in that minute. Grinding against one another, your little world inside the car, the rain pouring down outside. It was like nothing else existed besides the two of you, like the whole world had stopped being.

Harry moved away from you, looking into your eyes. He brushed some of your hair away from your face, eyes looking all over your face beneath him to tale it all in. You couldn’t help a little giggle.

“What?”

He shook his head a little. “Just…” he trailed off. “You’re unreal, is all.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Just unreal?”

“Isn’t that a good compliment?”

You smiled. “It could be interpreted in a million different ways.”

“Fine, you’re well fit.”

You laughed, bringing his face down to yours to kiss him again. You smiled into each other’s lips, feeling at ease and peace. Harry pulled out of you and, after having tucked himself in again, ran to the back of the car to get wet wipes and your knickers. After you cleaned yourself up and put your knickers on, the two of you settled down in the backseat to way the storm out. Harry leaned against the door, one arm draped along the back of the seats and the other one stroking you gently along the bridge of your nose and your forehead. You laid against his chest, hands resting on his thighs and your eyes shutting from time to time. Harry’s right leg was bent and resting against the seat, you had your hand on his knee, opening and closing your palm in a calming manner.

Harry reached for your other hand, removing his hand from where it was stroking you. Bringing it up to his lips, he kissed it slowly closing his eyes as he did. You smiled, bringing your entwined hands to rest in your lap.

“So,” you started, staring at the foggy window opposite you. “What do we do now?”

Harry sighed a little, clicking his tongue twice. “We compromise.”

You nodded. “But how?”

“We need to communicate and sacrifice.” Harry said. “One time I might drop some of my plans to tag along on yours, and you can do the same for me the next time around. Unless one of us actually can’t, like if you get a promotion, or I have an event to attend solo somewhere-“

“-Sounds like a good plan.” You said, squeezing his hand and knee to stop him from rambling. You knew he was a little nervous to be talking about this.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “We’ve gone a while without being open with one another. We need to realise we have a life outside our relationship, a life the other one not necessarily is a part of. It’s not healthy, having someone be part of everything you do. We’re a team, but we just need to support one another, not be completely immersed in everyone the other does.”

Harry nodded, resting his cheek against the top of your head. “Sorry I’ve been so jealous, I just want to spend time with you. Not used to you being busy, I guess. But I’m very glad that you are, I know that’s all you’ve wanted.”

You closed your eyes. “And I’m sorry I thought you stopped putting in effort, that’s not like you.”

“It’s not, no.”

“I was just so sad when you shut me out. Guess I was mad you didn’t spend time with me when you had time off.” You squeezed his knee before he started speaking. “I know you did, you spent loads of time with me once you got off tour last summer. We always spend Christmas together, and whenever you’re home you’re always by my side.” You sighed. “I’ll take most of the blame, though.”

Harry frowned. “Why?”

“Because I expected you to stay home with me when I’ve stopped doing the same for you.” You explained. “Work is important for the both of us, but we’re important as well.”

Harry nodded. “But it’s not all your fault. I got annoyed with you for getting a job, for not sitting at home waiting for me like you used to.”

You took his other hand, bringing them around your frame. Harry hugged you to him. “We need to balance.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “Need to stop thinking the other one’s inside our head.”

“Exactly.”

“Because no matter how much we might think we’re one and the same, we’re really not.”

You giggled.

“I’m not inside your head, you’re not inside mine.”

“Nope,” you tucked your arms tighter around you, Harry squeezed you for a few seconds, kissing the top of your head. “And good thing.”

Harry smiled. “What would I find inside your head?”

You gasped. “You don’t know what you would’ve found inside my head? I thought we were in a relationship!”

Harry laughed, thumb stroking long your jawline and resting his head against the fogged-up window behind him. “A pest, you are.”

You smiled, closing your eyes as you felt yourself wanting to drift off. “Inside my head,” you started. “You’d find a whole lot of Friends references, chocolate, bubbly, and,” your smile broadened. “Your bum.”

“Oi!”

“When you wake up in the morning and walk to the bathroom, the way it jiggles-“

“-Feeling a wee bit objectified!”

“I appreciate the way your arse jiggles!”

Harry grinned. “Okay, fine.” He closed his eyes, too. Leaned his head against yours. “I guess I appreciate the way yours jiggle as well.”

You grinned. “Good, I did squats for this bum.”

“And I appreciate that very much.”

You glanced up at him then, finding him with his eyes shut. You closed yours as well.

“I love you.” Harry whispered under his breath right before he drifted off. “For life.”

The old man living on the farm woke up around 5 every morning, this one was no different. The storm the night prior had been violent, making it impossible to do his last chores for the day, so he would have to work a little extra today. He didn’t mind though, because the turbulence the thunderstorm had brought could not match to the early morning sun rising above the green horizon. The sky was pink at the edge, a light layer of fog drifting over the fields around the farm, making the usually peaceful moors seem even more so. The harmonious state the world seemed to be in after a storm matched no other, like everything was calming down to start fresh.

The old man was going about his chores, doing what he usually did every morning. However, he noticed something strange. As he drove up the road leading to the main one, a black Audi stood parked there. Thinking the worst, he quickly got out of his tractor and walked over to the car. It didn’t seem to have been an accident of any kind, the car seemed fine. Sauntering over, he found that the bottom half of the windows were fogged-up, and at the very top, he could just make out the inside.

A man held the sleeping form of a woman. They were holding each other’s hands, arms wrapped around each other. Her head was resting against his chest and his cheek to her head. They both seemed to be completely and utterly at peace considering how tempestuous the evening before was. Considering how tightly they held onto one another, he was assuming they meant a lot to one another. The kind of a lot that couldn’t be properly described in words.

He smiled a little to himself, glad that they found a place to wait out the storm, glad that he could be of a little help.

But he needed to pass, he had things to do and animals that needed tending to. He knocked on the window, startling the man who had been fast asleep. Upon seeing the old man, the one inside the car blinked a few times to get all of his sleep out of his eyes. He gently shook the woman, whispering something to her before she opened her eyes, too. She saw the old man and slowly sat up in her seat. The man opened the door on the other side of the car, letting the woman step out with him.

“Sorry, sir.” He said, walking around the car and to him. “Didn’t mean to block your path, we just didn’t want to drive when it was storming out last night.”

The old man shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “No need to apologise, I’m happy you stopped. Could’ve crashed your fancy car if you hadn’t.”

The younger man let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, I had something more valuable inside I needed to look out for.”

Smiling, the old man nodded knowingly. “Those are the most important things in life, aren’t they? What’s inside the fancy car?”

The younger one smiled back. “Really is.”

“I won’t keep you. Just need to get my tractor out on the road, have a few errands I need to run and all that.”

“Of course, I’m sorry we delayed you.” The younger man took the few steps towards the driver side. “Sorry again.”

“No need to be, good of you lot to stop. The responsible thing to do.”

He sat inside the car, smiling. “Thank you.”

“Take care of the valuables inside the car, you.” The older man said, waving as the car door shut.

The last thing he saw was the man turning the ignition, and then looking over at the woman, who smiled at him. Taking her hand, he brought it to his lips for a brief second before he slowly drove away. He didn’t drive particularly fast, the older man noted, which was well as by doing so he would risk a lot of things. Smiling one last time, he turned around, entered his tractor, and drove in the opposite direction of the pair in love.

25 DAYS OF SUMMER | MASTERLIST | COME TALK TO ME!

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