#But that is the main one and has always been | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovelookspretty · 1 day ago

Text

waking up to you

au!rafe cameron x reader

— in which you wake up in a strange alternate reality that just so happens to be the outer banks universe, and to your disbelief, you’re suddenly in a relationship with the shows most unlikely character, rafe cameron.

warnings: Y/N & RAFE DATE 😋 teasing, pretty safe chapter

authors note: btw readers only “weird” around cynthia bc ngl id act like that if i came across her bc shes so annoying on the show omg. but EEE hi guys. if u still arent part of the tag list, feel free to lmk thru replies, anons, dms, or reblogs !!

you’re not surprised to wake up in rafe’s bed again. at this point, it’s almost routine, though every time still feels surreal.

you’ve gotten used to the soft sheets, the familiar scent of him on the pillows, and the way the morning light filters through the blinds just right, casting a warm glow over his peaceful, sleeping face.

he looks so different like this—calm, almost vulnerable. it’s a version of him that no one else really gets to see. and you? you don’t mind at all.

you take a quiet breath, just watching him for a moment longer. but then, his eyes flutter open, and you freeze, quickly closing your eyes to pretend like you’re still sleeping. maybe if you play it off well enough, he won’t—

a finger pokes at your side, and you can’t help the involuntary squirm and groan that escapes you. “rafe,” you mutter, barely opening one eye to glare at him. but he just grins, clearly pleased with himself for catching you.

“thought you were asleep,” he teases, voice rough from sleep, poking your side again until you half-heartedly swat at his hand.

“you’re so annoying,” you mumble, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you. “get off of me.”

the morning quickly slips into a blur, and before you know it, you're tagging along with rafe for a ride around the island—except not just any ride. he’s got his dirt bike out, the same one you’d seen on the show.

you were kind of surprised when you first saw it in the garage. in the world you knew, rafe got this bike after the first episode started, but here? no rules seem to apply anymore.

you’re wrapped tightly around his torso, his helmet snug on your head as he drives the bike through town, on the beaches, through quiet streets and long stretches of open road. the wind whips past your face, and you can’t help but smile into it, arms locked around him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

eventually, he pulls up to some kook-itorium, the bike coming to a slow stop. rafe kicks the stand down and hops off first, turning to help you off like he always does. his hands are warm as they slide into yours, and for a second, he just holds them, staring down at you with a grin.

“so, what do you think?” he asks, pulling you a little closer as you hop off the bike. he’s been practically advertising himself on the way over here. “a date? hrm? just you n’ me. anywhere you want.”

you smile up at him. “yeah,” you say softly. “i’d like that.”

he tugs you toward the entrance of the building, still holding onto your hand. “just don’t pick somewhere like the seaview grill or— god, that lame museum your mom likes.”

when you step inside the building, it takes you a moment to realize where rafe has brought you. the place has that unmistakable country club vibe—polished, pristine, like every corner of it has been touched by money. but it’s smaller, rounder in shape, and more modern than the main country club building next door. servers move swiftly between tables, balancing trays and drinks. rafe, of course, heads straight past all of this, not even glancing at the downstairs dining area.

you follow him upstairs, past the busy floor where people are eating, drinking, and talking in their quiet, refined way. upstairs, though, it’s a whole different world.

the second floor is open and airy, with barely any walls to box anything in. it’s just the floor, held up by tall pillars that support the roof above, letting the fresh air and views of the island spill right in. the only structure that really stands out is the bar in the middle—a sleek, modern setup that takes up a good portion of the space, all glossy wood and glass shelves stocked with high-end bottles.

the place is filled with kooks, most of them middle-aged. they don’t seem to notice you and rafe, or if they do, they don’t care. oh right, rafe should be about 22 now, legal to drink here. does that make the others 18 and 19?

anyway, rafe is clearly familiar here. a few nods are thrown his way as he leads you forward, and he nods back, murmuring casual greetings under his breath as you weave between tables. you’re amused, but there’s a small part of you that’s bothered.

you thought maybe rafe had brought you here for food downstairs, but it’s pretty clear now that this is just one of his regular stops to get a drink—probably whiskey or even scotch, knowing him. but you keep your mouth shut, not wanting to spoil the mood.

he finally lets go of your hand when he reaches the bar, leaning against the counter with crossed arms as he asks for his drink. you linger beside him for a second, glancing around the open space. the view from up here is stunning, with a perfect sightline to the docks and the country club’s main establishment just next door.

you rub your arm awkwardly, feeling a little out of place among all the well-dressed older folks. after a beat, you step closer to rafe, gently touching his arm to get his attention. “i’m gonna go use the restroom,” you say quietly.

he nods, not taking his eyes off the bartender. but before you can turn to leave, he grabs your arm, tugging you back toward him for a quick kiss. it’s his way of saying 'be safe,' you guess, a small gesture that makes you smile despite the surroundings. you give his arm a gentle squeeze in return, then slip away to head downstairs.

just as you’re descending the steps, though, a familiar voice drifts up toward you. and then you see him—topper, making his way up the stairs. your heart sinks in the half-second you have to process it.

great. the last time you talked to him was at the party, when he was stumbling over some half-assed apology. and now here he is, about to cross your path.

fantastic. just what you needed.

the moment his eyes land on you, there’s a flicker of recognition that lights up his face, just for a moment—like spotting an old acquaintance in a crowd.

“y/n!” he says, his hands coming up as if he’s presenting you to the world. he glances at his mom as if to say, ‘look who it is’. you can feel your heart rate pick up as you pause on the steps, furrowing your brows at them.

they were definitely just talking about you right before this.

you force a smile, but it’s small and tight, barely breaking through your unease. “hi, topper,” you mumble, glancing between him and his mom. there’s a brief moment of silence as you weigh your options—whether to continue this conversation or slip away.

ultimately, you choose the latter. you take a step forward, moving past them and continuing down the stairs, leaving them behind. as you go, you can feel topper’s eyes on you.

he glances down at his shoes and shifts awkwardly, but then, just as quickly, he looks up again. “come on, let’s just go upstairs,” he insists to his mom, trying to shake it off as they both start moving again.

it’s not that you wanted to dismiss topper and his mom or anything. really, you just don’t see the point in lingering in the middle of a public staircase, one of the only two that connected the floors of the country club. you don’t want to be rude, but you also don’t want to talk to topper—especially after your last encounter at the party.

topper and his mom step off the stairs, but the moment topper spots rafe, a grin spreads across his face.

“hey, good seein’ you back here again,” topper greets, approaching the bar with a friendly demeanor.

rafe daps him up casually. “you too, man,” rafe replies, genuinely glad to see him.

topper's mom stands just a foot away, carrying her purse and looking utterly uninterested in the interaction, her gaze flicking off to the side as if she’s assessing the other patrons. she’s never been a fan of rafe, just barely tolerating him because he comes from a good family, and it shows in the way she avoids direct eye contact.

pulling away from the handshake, toppers eyes glance back toward the staircase as if expecting you to appear at any moment. “saw you and y/n come in,” he adds, “just wanted to say hi.”

rafe nods with a smile as he leans back against the bar, one elbow resting casually on the counter. he glances at topper’s mom. “hey, cynthia,” he says, flashing her a grin.

her expression shifts from indifference to surprise, and then it hardens, almost offended by the casual familiarity. she’s always been the type to keep her distance from him, and rafe knows it. to her, he’s still just another troublemaker, another bad influence.

topper notices the slight tension and looks back to rafe, his brow furrowing slightly. “so, what’s up with y/n?” he asks, his tone casual but laced with a hint of concern.

rafe squints, his head cocking to the side as he regards topper. “what do you mean, ‘what’s up’?” he replies, his voice subtly defensive and carrying a hint of warning. ��is there something wrong with her?”

topper realizes how that might sound and shakes his head quickly. “no, no, man. i just think she’s, like . . . avoiding me or something,” he clarifies, waving a hand dismissively as if trying to brush off any potential drama.

rafe chuckles, raising his glass up to his lips. “are you surprised?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at topper, the teasing tone evident. he shakes his head, a look of amusement on his face. “girls, man.”

cynthia catches the comment, her expression shifting to one of disapproval. she mutters a clipped ‘ten minutes’ to her son before leaving without a word, turning on her heel and heading toward the stairs to leaving topper there with him.

topper watches her go, feeling the weight of the awkwardness settle over him. he glances back at rafe, who is now watching the scene unfold with a smirk, clearly amused by the whole thing.

“so, what are you guys up to?” topper asks, trying to steer the conversation back to safer waters.

when you step out of the bathroom, you spot her immediately—cynthia, standing at the bottom of the stairs like she’s waiting for her son. you briefly consider turning around, maybe pretending not to notice, but it’s too late. her sharp gaze finds yours, and there’s no escaping it now.

this is great.

you adjust your posture, trying to look casual as you make your way toward the stairs, your mind racing for an excuse to cut this conversation short. the last thing you want is to get caught up with cynthia—if she’s anything like the way she was on the show, you are not open to a conversation.

but it’s like you’re trapped. her eyes lock on you, and she takes a few steps forward in those polished black heels. “y/n,” she says, and there’s a hint of something icy behind that tone, even though she’s putting on a smile.

you stop, eyebrows raising as you stand in place, trying to gauge the situation. her smile is forced, you can tell immediately, but so is yours as you mirror her expression. “cynthia, it’s so . . . nice to see you again,” you say, the words slipping out of your mouth because, well, kooks always know kooks, right? you assume this universe’s y/n has seen her before.

but as soon as the words leave your mouth, cynthia’s expression shifts—her lips purse, and her eyes narrow slightly, pulling her head back like you’ve just said something ridiculous. yep. that was wrong. completely wrong.

“last time i saw you, you were just a kid! every time you come over to my home now, it’s like you’re always sneaking around,” she remarks, her voice dripping with that fake kindness, the kind that’s so transparently bitter it almost stings.

your stomach twists. yeah, this is definitely not the conversation you wanted. “and how are your parents?” cynthia continues, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.

you wave your hand, trying to shrug it off like it’s no big deal. “they’re great! in costa rica right now, on vacation,” you respond, trying to keep things light.

but cynthia hums, her expression a little too knowing. “i heard it was a business trip?” she says, tilting her head slightly.

you clear your throat, feeling the tension grow. this woman is the worst. you’re slipping up so bad. “mix of both,” you say, your voice strained as you force another fake smile.

there’s a brief, uncomfortable silence before the two of you lean forward, laughing in that awkward, forced way where neither of you are actually amused. the laugh dies quickly, and as soon as it does, you drop the pretense, turning on your heel as you head back upstairs, feeling weird about the interaction.

you feel like you were just quizzed. and you failed.

once you’re back upstairs, you immediately catch rafe’s eye as you step into the room. he’s leaning casually against one of the tables, a glint in his eye that matches the small smirk tugging at his lips the second he spots you.

his whole demeanor shifts, but topper, who’s mid-sentence, doesn’t seem to notice right away—until he realizes rafe isn’t paying attention. topper twists around to follow his line of sight, spotting you before continuing whatever rant he was on.

rafe briefly glances back at him, half-listening, as you approach the two of them. when you get close enough, you quietly reach for rafe’s glass, bringing it to your nose to smell whatever’s left of his drink. without a word, you tilt your head back and down what’s left, swallowing with a grimace as you place the empty glass back on the table.

both boys stare at you, each reacting differently. topper furrows his brow, eyes flicking to the glass to see if there’s anything left. “what’s up with you?” he asks, confused, clearly sensing something off.

rafe, on the other hand, is looking at you with a blank expression, though there’s a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth—because he knows. “she was definitely just talking to your mom, top,” rafe says with a knowing smile, his tone carrying just the right amount of humor to suggest that, naturally, a conversation with cynthia would drive someone to drink.

topper’s face falls slightly, but he doesn’t even argue. he just glances between the two of you in silence because he knows rafe’s probably right. with a quick check of his phone, he pushes away from the table, his energy deflating. “alright, i’ve gotta go. see you guys.”

“bye, top,” you murmur, watching as he walks off, leaving just you and rafe standing together. once topper’s out of sight, you tilt your head all the way up, meeting rafe’s gaze with a lazy, playful smile.

“you decide on where we’re going?” rafe asks, sliding an arm around you, pulling you close as he starts guiding you toward the stairs.

you hum for a long moment, trying to think, before making something up on the spot. “let’s go jet skiing,” you say, half-joking but testing the waters to see what he’d say.

rafe raises his eyebrows, a slight chuckle escaping him. “you wanna go to monty’s?” he repeats, and you assume it could be some jet ski rental place you must go to. he’s amused but surprisingly open to it. “we can go to monty’s, darlin’.”

rafe drives the two of you out to some place a mile or two away, the sign out front reading ‘montgomery’s jet ski rentals’ in bold blue letters. it’s tucked away along a small marina.

you step out of the car. it’s here that you notice the way rafe moves—a kind of quiet confidence that’s hard to ignore. he strides toward the dock with his head held high, like he’s done this a hundred times. you can’t tell if it’s because you two have apparently been here so often that he just knows his way around or if he’s just naturally this confident.

while rafe chats easily with the staff, laughing and slapping one guy on the back like they’re old friends, you find yourself preparing for the ride. you slip into a life vest, adjusting the straps so it fits snugly.

then you’re stepping onto the dock, the jet ski bobbing gently in the water. rafe climbs on first, settling into the front seat, and turns back to offer you his hand. you take it, letting him guide you into place behind him, and then you wrap your arms around his waist. it feels natural, like you’re meant to be there, holding onto him like this.

and, god, the thought hits you—this is probably a dream for hundreds, maybe thousands of people. to be on a jet ski with drew starkey, any version of him, arms wrapped around his waist, close enough to feel the warmth of his back.

it’s a little surreal, and you can’t help but feel grateful for this weird fucking alternate universe you’re in. being a kook, being rafe cameron’s girlfriend, living out days like this—you could get used to it. you could live like this forever.

rafe glances forward, that cocky smirk barely visible at the corner of his lips. without looking back at you, he mutters, “hold on.” and before you have a chance to reply, he twists the throttle, and the jet ski leaps forward, tearing across the water. your arms instinctively tighten around his waist as the engine roars, and you feel the force of the speed pushing you back slightly.

your eyes widen as you’re propelled across the open water. the jet ski skims over waves. you can barely keep from laughing as the wind whips through your hair. it’s fast—so much faster than you expected—and your heart is beating more than ever.

rafe steers you two in wide, looping turns and tight figure-eights, shouting the loudest, most carefree ‘woo!’ that you think you’ve ever heard. his voice carries over the hum of the engine and the slap of the waves, his laughter echoing as you cling on, a laughing mess yourself.

as the jet ski finally begins to slow, you let your chin rest on his back, just near his shoulder so you can look out ahead. you’re both breathing heavily from the ride, and he’s still grinning, clearly thrilled by his own reckless route. he isn’t heading anywhere specific, just weaving around, but that’s what makes it even better. there’s no destination—just you, him, and the freedom of open water.

“wanna take over?” rafe calls out, and you laugh, thinking he’s kidding. but when he glances back over his shoulder, you catch his expression and feel your own smile falter, realizing he’s dead serious.

next thing you know, you’re seated in front, fingers gripping the throttle while rafe sits behind you, holding on with that unshakeable grin of his. the jet ski jolts forward as you try to get the hang of the controls, and you immediately feel the panic rise, the machine moving faster than you expected.

“rafe, i don’t know what i’m doing!” you shout over your shoulder, but rafe’s only response is laughter.

“just go easy on the throttle,” he says, half-shouting and half-laughing as you attempt to steer. but the jet ski wobbles, veering off a bit too quickly, and your grip slips.

“rafe!” you yell, barely keeping control as he’s practically doubled over behind you, finding the whole thing hysterical. he tries to guide you through it, but it’s impossible to listen when you’re both shouting and laughing, the jet ski zigzagging across the water.

but it slows. he wants to teach you properly.

you feel rafe's hands slip over yours, his fingers resting gently against yours as he takes control of the throttle from behind. his touch is firm but relaxed, guiding your grip as he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “steady now,” he murmurs. “ease it forward like this, yeah?”

you nod. his voice is a steady hum as he talks you through it. “just a little pressure here,” he says, pressing lightly against the throttle. “see? easy.” his fingers guide yours over the controls until you can feel how each movement changes the jet ski’s pace.

after a minute or two, he lets you take over, his hands staying in place to catch you if needed, but he’s not pushing or pulling anymore. you start to feel it, understanding the rhythm of the throttle and how to steer, and rafe just chuckles.

“that’s my girl,” he says, patting his hand on the spot between your thigh and hip, sending a flutter through you as his hand settles back around you.

a grin stretches across your face, and before you know it, you’re letting out a loud scream that echoes across the water as you pick up speed, trusting yourself more with every second. you’re moving faster, the wind whipping past, and for a moment you feel invincible.

when you decide to slow down, you ease off the throttle, leaning back just enough to press into rafe’s chest. you feel his laugh rumble against you. it makes you smile as you let out a breathy laugh of your own. then, you’re off again, speeding forward with rafe’s steadying hands nearby, the two of you gliding over the waves like you were born to do this together.

you’re both sitting across from each other at a little table outside a bayside café. you pick up your sandwich and take a big, satisfying bite, eyes rolling back with a muffled oh my god because it's just that good.

you didn’t realize how hungry you were until now. you lean your head back, savoring the taste, a content sigh escaping as you sit up again, still chewing, and glance at rafe across the table.

he’s got his phone out, scrolling with his eyebrows furrowed, the lines on his forehead deepening behind his sunglasses. he’s squinting slightly, or maybe he’s just annoyed by whatever’s on the screen. you pause mid-bite, lowering your sandwich slightly before asking, “you okay?”

rafe clears his throat, not looking at you just yet, and clicks his phone off. he flips it over on the table, his hand rubbing down the front of his shorts like he’s brushing something off. “yeah, all good,” he says, reaching for his own food, voice casual, but there’s a tension you can sense from his reaction.

it doesn’t add up, but you decide not to push it. you’ve learned when to give him space, and right now, you’re way more into this sandwich than trying to open up that conversation.

you take another bite, glancing around at the scene in front of you as you chew. it’s a perfect day, bay glistening in the sunlight, people passing. by with relaxed smiles, stopping in at shops or heading toward the water. montgomery’s rentals is right across the street, jet skis and kayaks lining the dock.

rafe leans back in his chair, “dad’s finally starting to trust me to, like, step into his position at the company.” he pauses for a beat, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “he’s flying out of state next week, and he’s leavin’ me in charge while he’s gone.”

you just stare at him, a faint smile tugging at your lips without even realizing it. you can feel the pride in your expression as you tell him, “rafe, that’s really good. i’m proud of you.”

he grins wider, clearly trying to play it cool, and then takes a massive, messy bite of his sandwich. he chews with the gusto of someone who thinks a bite is a whole experience, sauce smearing slightly at the corner of his mouth.

you reach over instinctively, dabbing at the corner of his mouth with a napkin and tossing it back down on the table before going back to your sandwich like it’s second nature.

he swallows and continues, “he hasn’t really told me much, but i figure he’s got some new properties lined up, maybe working out deals or, like, finalizing stuff with investors. you know how he is.”

“yeah, that sounds like ward,” you say, taking another bite, your eyes never leaving him.

“so he’s gonna give me this schedule,” he adds, “a ‘run-down’ or whatever, of what i’ll need to cover. probably sit at the office, sign some stuff, and meet with clients or partners who can’t be pushed off until he’s back.”

“sounds pretty official,” you say, trying to imagine rafe at a desk, talking clients through real estate deals like he was born for it. “do you know what kind of properties he’s working on?”

he shrugs, a small smirk still lingering as he speaks. “knowing him? probably something big—new development or another investment property he wants to secure. he’s been hinting at something ‘game-changing’, like some waterfront project.”

you hum thoughtfully. “so you’ll be doing the groundwork? like, maybe even closing a deal?”

“yeah, maybe,” he says, sounding a little impressed with himself. “i’ll actually get to see if i can handle it.”

it's nice to see rafe so eager to step up, to take on something this big, probably just to prove himself to his dad. he always acts so casual about the family business, but there’s a spark in his eyes today, and you think . . . he can maybe handle being ward cameron for a week.

you just hope you can stay here long enough to see him prove it.

he’s finishing his sandwich, wiping his mouth with a crumpled napkin, and suddenly he’s looking right at you. “oh, yeah—did you ever tell me how that call went with your mom?”

it takes you a second. right, that call with your mom. you remember mentioning it to sarah, but rafe? he still doesn’t even know you hung out with sarah and the others while he was off fishing with ward.

“oh, yeah,” you say, smiling as if the thought just occurred to you. “it was fine. nice to hear from her, i guess. i miss them.” you shrug, playing it casual. but the truth is, you kind of do.

rafe nods, shifting his empty plate and leaning back in his chair, still watching you as he says, “that’s good. i mean, you get so wrapped up in life on the island, it’s easy to go a while without catching up.”

he talks on, making small comments about family and how he totally gets it, but as you sit there, nodding occasionally, your mind is somewhere else entirely.

you almost forgot about that call with your ‘in-this-universe mom.’ it seems so strange—no, it’s stranger that you forgot about it at all. and dad . . . right, your i.t.u. dad was there, too, wasn’t he?

wait . . what?

you feel a slight prickle of discomfort, shifting in your seat as you try to catch every third word rafe’s saying, but really, your mind is circling back to that call.

dad. mom. two words, so familiar. but why are they slipping through your fingers, blurring just a bit?

you force yourself to remember something about them, to pull up a memory, clear as day.

oh! like that one time you and mom spent the whole afternoon baking, sugar and flour coating every surface in the kitchen . . . and dad was there, wasn’t he? but what did he do? your chest tightens, just slightly, and you fidget with your napkin.

okay, try again.

dad. right. he was . . . wait, no, he was definitely there—no, he was doing something.

and then, just like that, the memory clicks into place. right, he’d taken one look at the mess you and mom made, then grabbed the dog and headed out, calling back that he’d be home ‘once the tornado’s over,’ and you and mom laughed.

you exhale, relief washing over you, but there’s still a flicker of something unsettling. why couldn’t you remember that right away?

you try another memory, to reassure yourself. dad did this, mom did that. you’re sifting through so many small, precious fragments, but there’s something strange about each one, something hollow.

the parents you remember—your parents—were so vivid before. but as you replay these memories in your head, they feel softer, blurred at the edges. somehow, they seem more like your parents here—the way they’re talking, laughing, looking at you with the same expressions as your i.t.u. parents.

your stomach twists, realization beginning to dawn, but you can’t even hold onto what that realization is. the longer you stay in this world, the harder it seems to be to grasp what was real and what was . . . this.

are you forgetting your memories?

authors note: okay poor execution LMAO but i know if i was y/n, i wouldve wanted to stay in this universe but we cant have that, so essentially the conflict / the thing that makes her work harder to solve all the relationships in this life for obx!y/n is that shes losing her memories from her real life the longer shes there.

does that make sense?? 😭 like she cant have her cake n eat it too, she can only have one lifetimes memories, her real ones or the ones that belong to the y/n who lives in this universe. makes her work faster to get back to her world so she doesnt feel like she can stay !!

tags: @v2los @cosmixstar @meeuhsworld @lovdrew @lilithblackkk @rovckwells @cherrylooney @iissza @namelesslosers @cocolovey @rafeyswrd @odairtrqsh @gretag13 @vivian-555 @lunaleah @smol-coffee-addict @twinge-vix @drewsephrry @behindviolettwrites @avngrssckr @stonerroadbull @cali-888 @coquettajob @simpingcorner @nymphetkoo @pinkpantheris @ilyrafe @romaescapes @thereallifebambi @inaluvrsworld @rafesweetie @faephoria @solo-pitstop-vibes @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @sgecorrow @rafesgiirl @ravisinghs-wife @booksntings @tinyfairies @maybankslover @honeyluvsatj @darleneslane @alysaaaa444 @w4nnabeurs @thewrittenpodcast @watersquirtpewpewboomm @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @benbarneslut @illicit-affcirs @helo1281917 ++

320 notes · View notes

moonlightwonu · 1 day ago

Text

최승철 // Choi Seungcheol [S.Coups] Fic Recsᡣ𐭩

표현만큼 서툰 삐뚤삐뚤한 글씨가 걱정돼 밤새 고민해 쓴 내 맘을 가릴까~

Main Recs Masterlist

MINORS DNI!!!!!!!

Please like and reblog the fics to show the creators love and support~

“When in Rome” by @highvern

Fem!reader || Fluff, smut, angst || W.C: ~24k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･After months of no contact, Seungcheol isn't sure what to expect when he sees you again at Jeonghan's wedding. He's prepared to apologize, to grovel, to bear the weight of a cold shoulder. Whatever it takes to have you back, his best friend since diapers; or whatever will ensure the last third of your trio has the best day of his life. But when he overhears the most recent development in your relationship, he must come to terms with something he was never prepared for, or risk losing you for good.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Villain! Seungcheol” by @hoshifighting

Fem!reader || Superpower au, angst, smut, crack || W.C: 13k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･After facing constant rejection from your own boyfriend, you discover he’s a superhero flying around the city. Seungcheol, the so-called 'villain,' stepped in when you were left as bait, exposed to your boyfriend's enemies. It turns out, he's the one who truly took care of you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

"The Great War" by @amourcheol

Fem!reader || Historical au, enemies to lovers, smut, fluff || W.C: 41k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･there was only one thing you hated more than your restricted life, and that was choi seungcheol—the greatest venetian general who has ever lived. when a marriage is arranged between the two of you, you were sure it would end in bloodshed. however, as you and seungcheol are forced to attend balls and share a few hard truths, you realise you have more in common with the mysterious general than you thought.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Push it Down (Sooner or Later it all Comes Out)” by @dontflailmenow

[Series] || Fem!reader || Camboy au, enemies to lovers, smut, angst || Total W.C: 50.3k || Parts: 5

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･thirsting over your ex’s best friend in general is a bad idea. given that you and seungcheol have never gotten along, it’s even worse. when you accidentally stumble across his stream, though, and he finds out? all bets are off.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Always Only You” by @honeyhotteoks

Fem!reader || Childhood friends to lovers, smut || W.C: 14.2k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･the date was terrible, awful even, but you just can't call your brother to pick you up. you have to call his best friend instead.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Tomorrow Tonight” by @cheolbooluvr

Fem!reader || Angst, Friends to lovers, Idiots to lovers, mutual pining || W.C: 20.8k

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

"Ex-conomics" by @ugh-yoongi

Fem!reader || Uni au, exes to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff || W.C: 13.4k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you supported seungcheol through years of being an aspiring athlete, and all you got to show for it was your undergraduate degree and an awkward, stuttered apology when he dumped you to go semi-pro. now he’s back after an injury derailed his career, and there’s only one problem: you’re the only one available to tutor him. you - 0; the universe - 1. talk about no return on investment.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

"Amnesia" by @sailorrhansol

Fem!reader || Fwb to lovers, smut, angst || W.C: 11.9k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Choi Seungcheol has never been the type to commit to relationships - casual is more his thing. You’re fine with that - except you and Seungcheol seem to be terrible at casual when it comes to one another.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

"Good Luck, Fermata Tower" by @beefboyandbabygirl

Fem!reader || Firewatch au, fluff, angst, smut, comfort || W.C: 13.9k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･after the death of your roommate you have to find a greater purpose to life. what better way than to became a fire lookout with a surprisingly charismatic neighbour tower?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

"All Roads Lead Back to You" by @the-boy-meets-evil

Fem!reader || Exes to lovers, angst, smut || W.C: 10.6k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･where you take an annual cabin trip with your friends and your ex decides to join this year

Please let me know if the links have any problems~

185 notes · View notes

isaadore · 16 hours ago

Text

OFF THE GRID LEWIS HAMILTON

pairing lewis hamilton x streamer!reader

SUMMARY as a successful twitch streamer, you’ve built up a following of dedicated fans. among them are carlos sainz and fernando alonso, whom you’ve known forever. but after an invitation to the paddock, things get interesting when you meet lewis hamilton, someone you’ve had a secret crush on for years. word count 0.7k words

warnings fluff, mentions of age gap

note requested!

MAIN MASTERLIST LH44 MASTERLIST

STREAMING ON TWITCH had been an unexpected career path, but it worked. Between gaming, chatting, and hosting surprise appearances from Carlos Sainz and Fernando Alonso, your channel has grown into something special. They’d become good friends, and you’d gotten used to their teasing and the easy bond you shared on camera. Still, you hadn’t mentioned the one secret crush lingering in the background: Lewis Hamilton.

It wasn’t the most realistic crush, maybe, but there was something about him. His confidence and undeniable skill drew you in. Not to mention, he was much older than you. You were sure he didn’t even know you existed.

Then one day, you were mid-stream with Carlos when he casually dropped the invitation that changed everything.

"Why don't you come to the race in Spain?" he asked with a grin, reading through the chat that was going wild over the idea. "I’ll get you a pass. You could see what it's really like instead of just watching on TV."

The chat cheered him on, throwing in all-caps encouragement, so with a laugh, you agreed. But as the race weekend crept closer, the nerves hit. Going into the paddock felt surreal; it wasn’t just about Carlos and Fernando; it was also about Lewis. There was a chance, however small, you might actually meet him.

The paddock buzzed with energy and attention. As you walked in, cameras flashed, and you felt the weight of curious eyes on you, but Carlos's warm welcome helped you relax. He showed you around, introducing you to drivers and team members until, eventually, you found yourself standing outside the Mercedes garage.

And there he was: Lewis Hamilton. He turned, noticing Carlos and then you, his gaze soft and curious. You took a breath and forced yourself to stay calm.

"Hey, Carlos," he greeted, and then his eyes shifted to you, that famous smile flickering to life. “And this must be your friend?”

Carlos introduced you, but you could barely focus, watching as Lewis’s expression turned to something closer to intrigue. You found yourself talking, laughing, and answering his questions as the minutes blurred by. It felt... easy. Unforced. There was a depth to him that surprised you, and you were startled by how comfortable you felt like you hadn’t just met the guy.

After the race, you ended up exchanging numbers, something you’d hardly dared imagine at the start of the weekend. Yet Lewis had insisted, his tone casual but his expression unmistakably genuine.

Over the next few weeks, you exchanged messages, keeping it light at first. He asked about your streaming, watched a few clips, and soon enough, he was showing up in the chat from time to time, keeping his profile low but always watching. When he finally asked if you’d want to meet up for coffee during a break in his schedule, it took all your self-control to play it cool.

At the café, conversation flowed easily again, and by the end, you found yourself wondering if he felt it too. You were aware of the age gap, and no doubt others would be too. But if it bothered Lewis, he didn’t show it.

“I know there’s some extra attention that might come with this,” he admitted over coffee, glancing up from his cup. “But for what it’s worth… I’d like to keep seeing you.”

You paused, the weight of his words settling in. “Are you sure? You know people will probably have something to say about it.”

“I’m not concerned with what people think,” he said simply, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “If you’re not, that is.”

Once your relationship went public, the inevitable comments rolled in. Age gap, rumours, endless speculation; the internet did its thing, but over time, people grew used to seeing you around. Carlos and Fernando both stood by you, treating it as nothing more than the natural next step, while your fans cheered you on, and even a few critics gradually quieted down.

Though life moved forward, now with race weekends as a regular fixture, the best moments were the quiet ones; streaming from a hotel room after the race, laughing at Lewis’s occasional surprise appearances, and sharing conversations with him that no one else got to see.

In the end, you knew it was real because it was just the two of you talking about everything and nothing, just as you always had.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ MAIN MASTERLIST ✷ LH44 MASTERLIST

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton angst #lewis hamilton smau #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #✷ isaadore

198 notes · View notes

loganlermanstanaccount · 3 days ago

Text

Rigor Mortis (part 11)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 10, Part 12

summary: You and Miguel spend the day together. You get a surprise visit.

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of microaggressions and racism in the workplace (projecting bc my ass is tired)

a/n: uhhhhh. heyyy.... so i took a cute little break 👉 👈

Join my taglists here

wc: 7.2k

Oh! and I finally made the series' playlists (very open to requests) <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

cracks in clay, poured over

Cold. The slow drip of an IV seems to echo in that little room.

She feels cold; the kind that drapes over her like a second skin - slimy, slick, and it makes him shiver. Pale; her hands barely have enough strength to curl around his anymore. His little girl, and he watches as she takes shuddering breaths. In, out. In, out. The shaky rise and fall of her chest and it’s all he can do to watch, hunched over metal railing with a certain kind of dedication. His eyes creak. His back groans.

There’s an emptiness to hospital hallways, he thinks. That thought comes with traitorous relief - balled up like chewed gum at the pit of his stomach. He wants her to rest; to take a breath that isn’t heavy with the weight of living. Even in a tangle of wires and tubes, and the steady metronome of a heart monitor to punctuate a mess of thoughts, she still looks like his. When he blinks, he sees her: rosy cheeks and chubby fingers entwined with his. He curls into them now, with rough palms softened by love - which he will dirty just to keep her safe.

Gabriella is a force of nature. A supernova: bright, bright light at the corner of someone else’s universe - but certainly the centre of his. And when she smiles; oh God, when she smiles; he sees his mama, he sees Gabi… and sometimes, he sees himself.

It’s not a case of roaring thunder in place of quiet sky. A flash-bang in the night felt more like a whimper: hushed tones in a doctor’s office that came with a wringing of hands. And dread - settling amongst the room like a lead balloon - that was what he remembers the most. It's a feeling he'll never quite forget. The doctor; a genteel, younger man with more worry lines than Miguel himself, he had thought. Gabriella was prone to poking at the folds beneath his brow, at the sides of his mouth that curled around the very same nose he had passed on to her; smoothing them out like lines in the sand.

Like pockmarks and furrows in sand washed away by the sea. El Mar - but Gabriella had trouble rolling her Rs. She would get there, he had always thought. He would not brandish a wooden spoon or chancla as his mama was prone to do. He would be different. Better - provide her with the space to make the mistakes he never could. If it meant a lifetime of forehead kisses and boiled candy stuck to the roof of her mouth, he wouldn’t mind.

The sea. Maybe he should take her to the beach - a proper one, not the murky waters he had grown up with. Her hand is too pale, and Miguel can already hear his mama complain; fussing over his little girl. Has Gabriella been eating properly? Has he? She would pinch his cheeks and squirm, hissing at their sallowess. Too much like your father, Conchata would say.

He's decided. Yes, that's just what they need. White sand stretching out as far as the eye can see - azure and turquoise and deep, deep blue.

He blinks. Miguel, ever perceptive, swipes it away from your skin. A sliver of bare flesh against his, your arm across the couch as you lay across the pillows. He woke up to this, to you; a fleeting nap that takes you both to a bright midday. Tangled up in blankets, a mess of his limbs and yours; and yet, you still feel…

Cold.

You stir. Like a lamb woken from fresh grass, he watches as you stretch; shaking away gentle sleep. At least Miguel has the sense to look away, to pretend as if he hasn't been staring at the gentle rise and fall of your chest, nor the stray hair that peeks out from the nape of your neck. He traces it with his thumb, with a tenderness that makes his head hot and heart heavy. A warm blush spreads across his face as you huff, blowing air that makes his curls jump. Despite himself, Miguel smiles, feeling the warmth. It's lop-sided, gentle where his face is sharp and he allows himself to soften - if only for a little bit.

“You okay?” You croak, voice still heavy with sleep.

He smiles, daring to curl his fingers around yours.

“M'better now.” It's barely a whisper, and so he clears his throat. “You still seem tired, sweetheart.”

When your face scrunches up into that adorable pout, he laughs the kind of laugh that echoes throughout his whole body; deep and sonorous.

“What’s so funny?” You're whining, but your face cracks into a small smile. And like the sun peeking out from the horizon, he feels its warmth spreading from his side; onto everything your light has touched.

“Nothin’”

His breath hitches as you come closer, placing your head on his chest.

“You're a fat fucking liar.”

Yep, he thinks. And you don't even know the half of it.

There's something about domestic bliss that twists his heart into knots. Most of it is you, of course, neatly pressing him out and spreading him on wooden pegs like fresh laundry. A life together, like this…?

Fuck. Maybe he hasn't had enough sleep.

Miguel hums, quietly turning your palm in his, tracing its lines like a lovelorn sap. He likes your hands, for some reason. They are smaller than his, gentle in their curve and crackle, fitting exceptionally well in his own.

He frowns.

“I think I'm happy.”

…and then he's biting his lip like he's said something he shouldn't. What should be an off-hand comment, swept away by the tide, makes you sit up abruptly.

“You think?” There's no malice in your voice, just confusion.

“It just feels…” He can't even look you in the eye, deciding to inspect your hands instead.

“Different?”

You finish his sentences now, great. Miguel feels like a walking cliche; all butterflies and shaky hands and cotton in his mouth.

In an attempt to sound indifferent, he hums. If you can see through his paper-mache facade, you don't show it.

“Different.” He rolls it around on his tongue, wanting to know its taste. If it fits, how it fits, and where you come into the equation. Different. Good different? It's a tentative thought, creeping into the back of his mind like a thief in the night. Whilst he wouldn't usually entertain it - as it was a dangerous thought, the kind that leads to others, thoughts of skipping through meadows with his hand in yours, or picnics on the beach, or–

“You think that might be because you had a full 8 hours of sleep?” You snort, stretching out. More thigh peeks out from under the covers.

His throat goes dry. Focus, Miggy. Yes, he wouldn't usually entertain it, but it felt far too good to think about the both of you, together, under different circumstances.

He would've met you at an overpriced coffee shop on his way to work. Or maybe he would catch your eye on the subway, and you would flash him a smile too beautiful to ignore in return. One to keep, like the expectant one you give him now.

You're waiting, he realises. Waiting for him to say something; something that gets stuck in his throat. He hopes not to spill his guts like this: a tangle of maybes and might'ves. The reality is less exciting. It comes out wrong - flat and pathetic and lifeless.

“7 and a half.” He says, shaky. Sleep, right? You said something about sleep? “The other day, I had 7 and a half.”

Miguel forces down the person-sized lump in his throat. You are stunning; sleep-rimmed and tangled up between his legs and that worn blanket.

Maybe we could've been more.

~~~

He’s an idiot, you think.

“And what good did that do you?” You retort, still sharp despite a blossoming headache at your temples.

“And what good did that… you're the last person to talk.”

For all his degrees, his accolades, his middle-school-science-fair-certificates; he could barely manage to take care of himself. It worried you in a way you were sure was common decency, like the pang of sympathy one would regard a puppy too tired to keep its head up.

“You look like shit, Mig.” And he did. In that frustratingly perfect way he was prone to, of course: rugged and ragged and handsome; messy, but without a hair in place. An oxymoron. A paradox. A fool with 2 degrees pending. A loveable idiot - certified, absolutely.

“You look like shit–”

You put your hands over your eyes like glasses, like a child on the playground. “Only one of has eyebags the size of Mars–”

“ –and only one of us has a hangover the size of Mars,”

“I do not.”

“The 3 tequila shots you took last night say otherwise.”

You descend into a heap of giggles, unable to refute his claims. Goddammit, does he have a point. You hate him for it; his smug tone, wagging a knobbly finger in your face; but you know there's no malice. What might've been turned into an argument oh-so long ago, stays childish and playful and maybe even a little… fun? There is a shine in his eyes that you have so dearly missed, and a hint of a smile you know he is barely clamping down on. It brings a warmth to your chest far greater than any alcoholic buzz - tequila shots or otherwise - ever could.

Wait. How did he know you had—

“Took you long enough.”

He's chuckling, reaching over for his phone discarded on the rickety coffee table. With a couple quick swipes you're greeted with a plethora of drunk messages sent by Lyla; the majority of which are unintelligible. He hands the phone over, seemingly more interested in satiating his appetite as he heads for the kitchen, leaving you ample time to scroll through. You recognise one or two videos from Lyla's private story, and sure enough, there you are - knocking back shots offered to you like it was your job. Watching it back makes you wince. You were so sure of yourself last night, chock-full of liquid courage, it almost seemed like water in those dainty glasses. There’s more, as you scroll up: including candids of you at the club, some you don't quite remember posing for, others with Lyla's slim arm draped around your shoulders like they belong there.

Unsurprisingly, most of them are of Lyla; drunken selfies sent with a string of messages you were barely able to make out. It all makes you wonder just how well Miguel knows his friend, able to respond accordingly to her nonsense string of characters and emojis. Considering it had taken you this long to be barely conversational in Miguel-ese, Lyla would prove to be something else entirely.

There's a peek of something as you scan through last night's messages. You don't mean to pry, but one thing leads to another, and you get stuck on a conversation that occurred not too long ago.

[Sent: 15:32]

Are you guys still on for tonight?

[Received: 15:32]

👍👍

[Sent: 15:3]

Okay, cool. I won't be home to drop her off, though. Is that okay?

[Sent: 15:32]

👍👍

“I messaged her this morning,” You start, making space for him on the sofa. “No response. Do you think I should give Lyla a call?”

“Don’t take it personally, sweetheart. Sometimes she falls off the face of the earth and then you find out she’s in Indonesia with a cocktail by the beach.”

You must make a face, because Miguel comes closer. It’s tender, and much more intimate than it should feel; and all you can do is short circuit as he brings his hand to your cheek.

His thumb rest at the cleft of your chin, gently moving your face to look him in the eye.

“I’ll give her a call, if you like.” He presses a gentle kiss to your furrowed brow, and you can barely breathe. “You’re much too pretty to worry. I’ll sort it out.”

When he pulls away, all you can manage is a weak nod. All that pomp and self-rightousness that filled you not even 5 minutes ago dissipates like a limp balloon with just a flash of his smile.

“You hungry?” He asks.

“Starving.” You say with a grin.

~~~

You hear his voice first, the mellow timbre and its slight twang rumble through the walls. Your door is open in the hope that Miguel will saunter in and… and do something resembling earlier on in the day. Considering the time, it was little more than delusion - you can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve seen Miguel up past 11pm. Whether it was work, or studying, or a popcorn movie on the couch, he could never make it through the night. More and more, you’ve found him passed out on the couch, one arm slung lazily over it’s back - but that was another matter.

Now, your door isn’t too open - you wouldn’t want to seem desperate - but wide enough that you can catch whispers of his conversation. Miguel seems to speak in more grunts and huffs; and you can almost see his scrunched brow and crooked grimace. The other voice is tinny, but clearly male - spouting garbled, frantic words that you can’t quite catch. It’s odd; whilst you were no stranger to late nights, your roommate started fighting sleep at 7pm sharp - so what exactly was going on?

You creep towards the door, snaking your head around its edge. There he is; down the hall and shadowed by the doorway with his phone flat on the dining table, perched on its lip with nothing but a plaid pair of pants on. He looks bedworn and exhausted, sure - but gorgeous in the kind of way only oils on canvas can capture. With his hand scratching at light stubble, you watch as he takes a deep sigh.

“It’s– Pete, it’s–”

More jumbled words from the phone.

“I know, man.” He pauses, hesitant. “Are you… have you guys tried Lyla?”

He says the words like they’re bitter, acrid on the way out, eventually producing a deep frown as he listens. The image sticks with you, for some reason: hunched over, shoulders slack like a ragdoll, and picking at the loose black-and-red threads. There's a flash of something you can taste - like blood after a sucker punch - and he flattens, roughly swallowing as he rubs his temples. There’s an ache, there - and it wasn’t just a migraine from all that salty junk. His eyes are sallow, without the lustre you had grown so accustomed to. Where did he go? Your Miguel, saccharine and sickly-sweet?

A trick of the light, you decide; just the morning sun.

You are too lost in your own thoughts - vivid ones, of takeout noodles and orange chicken - that you barely notice him move. Almost a second too late, it registers, and you scramble to your bed in a flurry of limbs, managing to close the door just in time. You hear heavy footsteps, and there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in!”

Miguel pops his head through the door, shirking away from the bright light.

“Jesus, you need all these lights on?”

You roll your eyes. Laptop on, a desk lamp, a standing lamp, etc etc. Warm lights, made even cosier by pillows and plush bedding. The very same bedding he fucked you in the first time, and the next, and the next. Clearly, he couldn’t recognise ambience if it whacked him in the face.

“Did you want something?”

When once he would’ve been taken aback by your gall (and you too, you suppose, as Miguel had never been the most tactful), he simply purses his lips.

“I… I'm babysitting for Peter.”

“May's coming over?” You visibly perk up, and it makes him smile.

“I wish you got this excited when I come home. Yeah, she is.” He’s still picking at the loose fibres of his pants. “I'll try to get her to bed as soon as possible, but she's a little hurricane, so be wary of the noise.”

“It’s pretty late, Mig. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah; something came up and their usual sitter isn't available. It's the least I can do.” He gives you a weak smile

“Okay. Thanks for the heads up.”

Despite this, he lingers for a bit, clearly antsy. “With traffic, I’m not sure when they’ll get here. Pete lives just across the way, but...”

“But?”

“I’ll probably have to stay up for a bit.”

“I can keep you company.”

“No, no, I can’t ask you to do that--”

“Alright, alright!” You throw your hands up, huffing dramatically. “Mig, there’s no need to beg. Give me five minutes.”

He gives you a weary smile, before turning to leave. But he pauses at the doorway, and as if in a trance - tightening grip, clenched jaw -

“You look nice.” He says, low and slow.

“Thanks.” You manage to squeeze out. Ever so slightly, you squeeze your thighs together too, for good measure.

With one last look he drags that heavy gaze away from you, giving your room a once over.

“...now I know why the light bill’s so fucking high.”

~~~

The doorbell rings when the two of you have settled in - head on his broad chest and something on the TV. Whilst you don't know how you ended up here, you do know how it ends; he puts a boring documentary on, you proceed to fight sleep before hands wander, the room gets a little heavier, and…

The doorbell, right. He shuffles out of your grip, gently placing your head on the sofa. You feign a yawn as you shift, watching the wide expanse of his back as he answers the door. Unfortunately, he's put a shirt on, but you are still mesmerised by the way that baggy t-shirt clings this way and that. You sigh at the sight - it’s much too late for unabashed yearning - burying your cheek into the pillows.

The door opens. You manage to spot a flash of red peeking over your roommate.

“God, we are so sorry. We don't know what's gonna happen to my Dad and–”

Miguel brings a hand up to stop her. She is clearly exhausted, eyes-red rimmed like she's been crying; with a tight hand around the strap of a sling bag. It's full to bursting, likely haphazardly prepared - stuffed with diapers, snacks, toys and God knows what else. She scratches at the nape of her neck, pulling at choppy hair scraped into a bun. With her bangs pinned back, you can't help but think she looks less like the character she plays on TV and more like a person - experiencing the kind of grief made less glamorous by makeup and bright lights.

“It's okay, Em.”

Em. You can't see his face, but you can see MJ's; and you notice the way she softens at the nickname.

“I haven't heard that one since college. Thank you, Miguel.” She gives him a watery smile.. “I've got some food for her in the bag, extra milk, those peanut cups she likes, my personal and my work phone number, my mom's phone number in case you can't reach me or Pete, diapers, wipes – hypoallergenic, she can be a bit sensitive – a-and we are trying self-soothing with her stuffy because she can get antsy before bed.”

Her eyes are a little bloodshot, but she manages to hand off the bag, before turning to talk to a little mop of red that peeks out from behind her. May's chubby fingers are clamped tight around her leg, but with some gentle coaxing, the little girl steps into your apartment.

“Hi, May.” Miguel smiles, one you imagine is dazzling kryptonite from her favourite uncle, and she puts her small hand in his.

“Bye, honey. Be good for your Uncle.” MJ gives her daughter a gentle hug, brushing back her hair for a kiss. Little chubby fingers try to do the same, and it's a display that makes your heart melt.

“Stay safe, MJ. Say hi to Peter for me?” You call out over the lip of the couch.

“Of course, sweetheart.” She flashes you a smile, and you are windswept by its candour.

Once she leaves, May is uncharacteristically quiet. She seats herself on the sofa, little legs dangling, unable to reach the floor. Miguel slides off her backpack and jacket - brightly coloured plastic adorned with a kid's TV show - with an ease and gentleness you didn't quite know he was capable of. There's something to be said about a man of his stature - tall and hulking, with hands that could easily palm a basketball - using those very same hands to carefully unbutton the loops on May's jacket. Despite her muted panic; the gradual kind, the kind that wells up like the tide before a storm and comes with a wobbly lip and balled up fists; his voice stays calm and soothing in the walls of your little apartment. It is well-practiced and unfazed, exceedingly gentle in his approach. He'd make a good dad, you think.

She's restless. You both try your best, coaxing her to eat mushy peas and applesauce, with little to no success. May clearly isn’t pleased - scrunching up her face with disgust.

“I feel you, kid.” You sigh, plopping the dinner spoon into the green mixture. “Not the most appealing.”

“But it’s good for her!” Mig yells from the kitchen, digging around for something in the cupboards.

She makes a face, looking to you for some comfort. All you do is shrug, tugging at your collar in an exaggerated manner. She almost smiles, and so you make your eyes go wide - pulling a peal of laughter from the little girl. It is contagious, and makes you beam from ear to ear.

“That doesn’t sound like dinner.” Miguel breezes past with something in his hand.

“I think they serve prisoner’s better food. Or food that looks less grey, anyways.”

“Don’t be a smart-ass.” He hisses, seating himself on the other side of the little girl. In his hands are a cute little bowl - pink plastic and toddler sized. It comes with a spoon that fits in Mayday’s palms just-right, and he scoops up some of the mixture the bowl.

You’re a little confused. “Where did you fi-”

“She’s a big girl.” He says simply, facing her and mimes taking a spoonful. You watch as her eyes get a little rounder, shining and intelligent. You can almost hear the gears moving in her tiny little head. “She can feed herself. Can’t you, May?

“Mig, I don’t know if that would work.”

And like a curious little dove, her head cocks this way and that, with a deep frown on her face. Pudgy fingers wrap around the neck of the spoon, and clumsily, she brings it to her lips. It falls with a clatter, and mushy peas splatter everywhere.

There’s an I told you so on the tip of your tongue, but he tries again; cooing at the little girl, encouraging her to take the spoon once more. He’s gentle, but doesn’t talk down to her - and like she can understand every word, her eyes shine with recognition. Now, you’re not the best with kids - a baby cousin or two notwithstanding - but its hard to believe he hasn’t babysat before. Miguel O’Hara; lab tech, masters student, and clearly, world class Uncle. You’ve got a million and one questions, but you are unable to do anything but watch - all the while, gears turning.

She gets increasingly frustrated. In an adorable, gap-toothed way, but the toddler can’t seem to get a good grip. You watch as the spoon falls: clatter, hollow clang, conk; and every time, Miguel picks it up, wipes it off, and encourages her to try again.

Clatter.

“One more time, sweetheart,”

Clang.

“You were so close! You want to try again for me?”

Thunk. You've got an idea.

“She’s not going to eat, Mig.”

He looks up. You’re handing him her jacket, and pulling on a long-discarded sweater.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

~~~

It fills you with a certain amount of delight to say something that surprises Miguel.

“I know a place.” You say, somewhat smug.

“What do you mean, you know a place?”

You shrug. After a couple of quick phone calls, you did, in fact, know the perfect place for a late night wander.

“The park on 10th?”

“Nope.”

“If it’s The Rec Centre on Chelsea Ave, it’s closed. I grew up with the guy who runs it, and–”

“Nope.”

“Where are you taking us? May, she’s going to kidnap us and sell our organs on the Black Market.” She’s got her little palm in his, and gives you a look that says ‘Him first’.

“Don’t want your organs. You’re Mexican and lactose intolerant; can’t imagine the damage you’ve done to your gut.” You stop them, crouching down to speak to May directly. “Do you like animals?”

Her face shines with recognition. She nods profusely. Miguel seems somewhat horrified, but it just looks cute, to you.

“That doesn’t reassure me, sweetheart.”

“I know.” You give Miguel a dazzling smile. Somewhat smug turns into very smug, very quickly. “We’ll take the subway!”

~~~

The Nueva York Research and Conservation Centre is quite the gem, Miguel quickly realises. It's the kind of thing that predates him, and even his oldest neighbours; immigrants that came to Nueva York in the 60s and 70s. He remembers a handful of school trips in elementary and middle school - traipsing around the old building with a clipboard and stubby pencil in hand. Even when he was a kid, the centre had paled in comparison to the Zoo up in Central; that was shiny and modern, with actual lions (plural) and giraffes. Of course, his school couldn't afford the accompanying exorbitant fees, so they settled for the converted municipal building and grounds; housing less exciting animals.

But he still remembered the first time he had walked through those double doors, and past the little ticket office after being handed the paper stub.

He liked that there weren't any cages. At the time, there was thin plexiglass separating the people from the animals, but they had space to roam, and were never the flashy sort - meerkats were the highlight of one trip, and an alligator snapping turtle the next. The centre was temperature controlled and meticulously maintained despite the clear understaffing; he always enjoyed the trek on cobbled path, and the insect building and reptile room never failed to disappoint.

There were always researchers hanging about there. Not in white lab coats and clicky pens like he had once thought; but sturdy trousers and frazzled smiles. They were kind, and easy going; always happy to talk to the little boy in clothes two sizes too big.

Maybe May was too young to understand, but he felt it immediately. That rush of excitement as you lead them on a long forgotten path, and pull out a key that unlocked those very same double doors. Nostalgia, perhaps, bubbles up from his fingertips.

“Hey, Ernie.” You nod towards a night watchman, perched at the reception desk. With his head buried in a magazine, you are satisfied with a nondescript grunt. Security clearly hasn't changed.

May gives a little wave, and Miguel can't help but coo. She's squirming, feeding off of his clear excitement and dragging him towards you with a surprising amount of force.

You lead them to the outside park. The Centre is dark, for a while, and after some rattling, and the careful click of a few switches; Miguel feels like a kid.

The lights are on, illuminating an acre or two of land, and he is transported to being 6 and then 7 and then 11 - clipboard and pencil in hand.

May is agape, eyes wide at nothing but fenceposts and plexiglass. The enclosures are empty with the majority of the animals asleep; yet she is fascinated with the landscape, so much so that she paws at Miguel to hoist her up. She's on his shoulders before you can orient yourself.

He hears you laugh first. Bright, gorgeous laughter like morning rain on a warm day. You laugh and clap with wonder, and pinch the little girl's cheek good naturedly. She returns it with her own, pointing at ‘funny trees’, their green tongues lapping at the bright light.

“We'll need to be quick.” You finally say, leading them once again. He catches a sliver of neck, pretty and supple as you turn your head towards them. Fuck.

“How do you have access to this place?”

“I know a guy.”

“Not a chance.” A guy, sure. It sounds like bullshit, but he can feel the confidence radiating off of you. It makes him wonder… is this another ex? Someone who works here, no doubt, but with so much pull you can walk straight through after closing hours?

“We'll meet ‘em, in a bit.” You trail off towards a plaque, reading out the inscription. “The Giant Armadillo, Priodontes maximus, is a giant insectivore – that means eats insects, May – characterised by its hinged bands and pale head. Found in much of South America, this – oh, look!”

Miguel follows your line of site, to some movement within the enclosure. Between large, grassy mounds, sure enough he spots the pale snout of the animal. May squeals with laughter, pointing toward the movement.

You put a finger to your lips, and ease her out of his grip. You get closer, whispering excitedly in response to the little girl's babbling. He doesn't follow, hands buried deep in the pockets of a brown leather jacket.

We'll meet him. He plays it over and over and over in his head, letting it rattle and clank before sinking to the pit of his stomach. It tastes familiar: heavy and bitter. He's thinking of a man from a nicer background; kind, maybe, and softer. Walks around in suits and shiny shoes; who owns shit, who doesn't rent. Someone with softer hands than his own.

“Mig?”

Your hand is on his cheek. He’s pulled out of that haze, and straight into the warmth of your eyes.

“Y-Yeah.” He croaks.

“You okay?” Your brow is scrunched up adorably, little Mayday hanging off of your arm. He can't make you worried.

“Just fine, sweetheart.”

“Well, come on then. I’d like you to meet someone.”

You pull him towards the Reptile Room; a brick and mortar building with the metallic sheen of a lizard on its face. You pull out more keys, sifting through a whole jumble. Before he can stop himself, he's staring at you; intense and stormy. That sinking feeling deepens. You look up, and give him a smile. Like emerging above troubled water, he takes a deep breath and feels a little lighter.

“Liv?” The door is open in no time. You're calling out into empty space, boots click-clacking on tile. These lights are on, but dim, matching the hot and humid air of the building. “Liv!”

Miguel pulls at his collar, following you deeper inside. A service door; amidst enclosures of leafy green, pebbles, sand, and more; leads to a modest lab. Amongst vials labelled ominously and rows of benches that smell like disinfectant, lies a nest of hair crudely tied back.

Liv pops out from behind a clunky monitor, beaming from ear to ear. They're older, with a sharp jaw and soft features framed by wrinkles and smile lines.

“Doctor Olivia Octavius,” You smile, “Meet Miguel.”

Hand outstretched, Liv clears a path of pens and junk to reach his hand. It’s firm, he notices; with inked scribbles on the underside and a stack of bracelets at their wrist. They look familiar, but he can't quite place the name.

“How do you two know each other?” It spills out like May's mushy peas, and he hopes his sweaty palms aren't too noticeable.

“She used to work here - night shift.” Liv adjusts octagonal glasses, jewellery clinking.

“I was only a janitor, Mig.”

“The best damn janitor around. And good company during late nights.”

You get a playful nudge in the side for your trouble, and the two of you share a knowing look.

“And who's this?” Liv crouches, attention turning to May who is engrossed by a tangle of colourful wires.

“Her name's May.” He grunts.

“Your….” Doctor Octavius looks between you both, choosing their words carefully. “Daughter?”

“No, no.” You laugh - a little too much, for his liking. “We're babysitting - Liv, he's just my roommate.”

Miguel winces. Twice. He chooses to ignore the raised eyebrow and pursed lips, lest it blossom into any awkwardness.

A beat passes. “Does May like lizards?”

She nods enthusiastically, hissing like un vibora. She’s almost there, he thinks, and Miguel can't help but smile.

“We've got some speckled lizards in tank 3 and 4 - donations from our freshwater contacts in Panama. You want to show her around?”

“Sure, but what about–”

“You guys head off, I've got some paperwork to finish off. 10 minutes? If she's gentle she can touch one or two.”

Satisfied, you nod, looking at him expectantly. Your eyes shine just like May's, and like his once upon a time, with a childlike wonder that makes his heart ache. You look happy. God. He'd do anything to keep you smiling like that.

But he's tired. Finally, the night has caught up with him, and he just doesn't have the energy anymore.

“I'll stay.” He says gently. “Need to sit down for a bit anyways.”

He must imagine it, but for a second, you falter. Big, round eyes that shimmer in the harsh lab lights; and for a millisecond, he sees it dull. It’s gone in just a moment. And then you give him a warm smile, with a touch on his arm that seems to linger. The two of you beam, and you bound off with the kind of vigour he hasn't felt in years.

The click-clack of keys fills the room. He takes the opportunity to look around, noticing plaques upon plaques in the little corner of the lab. PhD. Masters. Accreditation from organisations with long, winding names. Doctor. Bioengineering. A foray into experimental physics. Pictures of her shaking hands with flashy names - and he recognises one with wide eyes.

“That's Marcus Kirby.” They barely look up.

“I… I know.”

“I worked with him before he headed up Alchemax, and well before the position was passed onto his son.” There's a hiss, and Miguel hears the violent rattle of the keyboard come to a stop. “I remember when he was still a kid, actually.”

He hesitates. “I watched one of your talks in Prague…. the one on metaphy–”

“Metaphysical dimorphism? Or was it the metagenesis of the perpetual plane? I can never remember these things.”

“Something like that.” He grunts.

“You were there? Should've asked for an autograph. Wouldn't be worth much, though.” A little snort catches him off guard, but he shakes his head.

“I was 17 - so, no.”

“Ouch.”

Ouch, indeed. He had loaned that particular talk from the library, a tape played over and over until Gabi had thrown a spoon at his head for the crime of astrophysics at breakfast.

“Do you still work with them?”

“Oh, I've been back there a couple of times; despite the complaints otherwise, mind you; their conference centre is world-class –” They stop themselves. “You meant–”

“I meant Alchemax.”

They snort. “We went our separate ways.”

Why? He can't help but wonder; considering the equipment and brilliant minds the company has access to. Especially someone with the tenure and experience of Doctor Octavius - he could only dream of that kind of influence. Imagine the good he could do, the lives he could change…

Wonder turns to indignation, which turns to unfair assumptions; he looks around at the dingy workspace and curls up his nose. Disgust. From a well-respected, world-renowned bio-astrophysicist to this. Without the rose-tinted goggles of his youth, Miguel can't help but feel the walls closing in - a future career flashing before his eyes. From a dim rent-controlled apartment to an equally dingy desk in the corner of nowhere. He can't have done all of this for nowhere.

Doctor Octavius squints. The click-clack of keys stops. The air leaves the room, leaving only a cold chill.

“What exactly do you do?”

“Genetics and Bio-engineering department.” He puffs out his chest, but is unable to hide a slight shake to his voice. “I'm a lab assistant at Alchemax.”

Liv gives him a blank expression.

“So you're young.”

“I guess.”

“Unexperienced. You've barely taken your first steps into this world. I bet you still have dreams of saving the world. What are you working on, a cure for cancer?”

His jaw shifts.

“A joke.” They smile stiffly. “Research isn't like that. It's stuffy and bureaucratic and painfully capitalist. Everything requires a thousand yards of red tape until it doesn't; until they ask you to fudge numbers for the sake of shareholder value. Until they axe vital projects that affect the bottom line.”

They step closer, boots thudding on cheap linoleum.

“It’s hard, to get them to see you. It's even harder when they've already made their mind up. I gave 12 years of my life to that place and you'd be wise to quit whilst you're ahead. Whilst you're young.”

Their eyes are empty. A quiet, cold rage swirling for the last 10, 15 years. He recognises it, of course he does; it's the very same rage that sits at the pit of his stomach - with the dense heat of a white dwarf. In that way, he thinks, he's collapsing in on himself; one that precedes an abcess into the very same perpetual plane Doctor Octavius built their career on.

“Alchemax is doing things no one could've predicted 10 years ago - our genetics trials are world-class -” He starts a spiel he is well versed with – but it sounds hollow even under these dim lights.

“Is that what Marcus is going with these days? Plasticky and insincere?”

“I–We are saving the world.”

He's met with a withering look; that echoes the indignant sighs from teachers of his youth.

He remembers small squares of paper, handed out to kids in the Reptile house. Brightly coloured facts pasted along its route; detailing the kind of research undertaken at the conservation centre. For a 7 year old Miguel, he was wholly absorbed with the worksheets - three words at the top of a blank table. Hypothesis. Observation. Analysis.

Hypothesis.

“If this a personal gripe–”

“Of-fucking-course it's personal.” It was spat out, with more emotion he thought they were capable of. A pause. “Did you know Marcus Kirby commissioned the research for near-unlimited nuclear energy? Did you know we actually built it?”

“You're–” His throat is dry. “You continue to make claims without evidentiary basis.

Observation.

A slight bobbing of an Adam's apple. The tightening of the invisible string that slowly winds their shoulders back.

“We could have powered hundreds of thousands – millions of homes. For much cheaper and cleaner than what we have now; clogged up by fingers sticky with oil money, most likely. And the proprietary technology is collecting dust, somewhere in that fucking building. Knowing Marcus, he's using it as a paperweight.”

And his head is a blur. Miguel isn't stupid; he sees Alchemax for what it is. A business, at the end of the day. He thought childlike naivete was a distant bygone but for some reason, he's shaken.

Can he believe what he hears? Is it just personal pettiness at the root of all this venom? Sure, he doesn't get invited to after work drinks. Sure, he isn't involved in the office gossip; in signing birthday cards and impromptu lunches out. Sure, just once, he'd like to get more than lab reports and risk assessments dumped on his station. He even finds himself missing stilted small talk; picking his fingernails as his coworkers talk around him, like he isn't even there. No man is an island in his field of work. For every discovery and pseudo-cure-for-cancer there are hundreds of lab techs doing the grunt work. So he knuckles down and does the only thing he knows how to do. He keeps his head down; because he already has a job to do, he doesn't need to be liked.

Analysis.

He sees it now, clear as day. A coffee cup gripped too tightly, a flash of fear when he clears his throat. Little comments, and then big ones:

Drug tests at your stage are mandatory, O'Hara.

Ronnie’s been working here a long time. There's no need to be aggressive, O'Hara.

We want you front and centre in this picture, O'Hara, but don't forget to take out the trash on your way out.

But what he has always attributed to the status quo, to his prickly personality, to his distinct lack of charm and unwillingness to be loved - could it be something else? When they look at him, who do they see? Is it O'Hara, the underpaid, awkward intern - or Miguel, brutish and brash and scary?

A great crash and in its crescendo is Doctor Octavius, hand outstretched, half bitten fingernails and papercuts all the same. He's different, he knows that. He's intimidating and gruff with a slight propensity for violence. But he's saving the world! He’s making a difference, one meagre test tube at a time.

And then there’s that voice again, hoarse and buried deep deep down at the pit of his stomach. With all that they've asked him to do… what does he have to show for it?

You come to mind. Kind eyes and an even kinder smile. The way you look at him, the way you touch him - like he's delicate, like he's capable of breaking. He thinks of soft nights spent in your arms and between even softer sheets… and not once have you shirked away or asked him to flatten. Acceptance; whole-hearted and unconditional; tastes much too sweet between your thighs.

“Mig!” He hears a squeal from out and down the corridor. Footsteps on the linoleum are followed by a pitter-patter, before you and May arrive at the door giggling uncontrollably.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He softens like butter under a hot knife, because of course he does. It’s you.

“Come look, come look!”

He throws a glance to Liv, their white hot grip on the desk relaxing. They tuck a strand of loose hair back and sit down, shuffling through papers like nothing had happened. The tension dissipates - that was your doing, he thinks.

“It's a… Mig, God, there's a tank with an oc…”

“Cephalopod, actually.” Doctor Octavius smiles, picking up a battered coffee mug to lead the way. “You would not believe the hoops I had to jump through to get her here, but isn't she a beauty…”

He trails behind, flashing you and May a shaky smile. The frazzled scientist is knee deep in another story - betrayal, heartbreak, a tentacled hero, and more. But when Liv looks back, for a moment, he sees it: the very same look he had given unapologetically just a few minutes ago.

Pity.

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

@bonthebunnie @natthernandez @strawberrymiguel @twwcs @mammonispunk @um-well @renn-pumkin-head @ietherealkistar @smallishbook @sonderspider @spear-bitch @cryingintheclubdhmu @mageneire @notdyl4n @slezhara @funkyfoxx0 @smol-beb @iceclaw101 @lixhizy @errorundyne-exe @707xn @beantokki@twentysomethingwereyote

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #rigor mortis 😼#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #kat_writes😼#spiderman 2099 #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #angst #mutual pining

155 notes · View notes

barbiexgirl · 3 days ago

Text

Anorexia is the patriarchy’s perfect way to make you lobotomize yourself.

It puts the blame on you, you’re weak for letting the standards break you and you’re doing it to yourself. No one forced you to starve right? Those beauty standards are coming back for a reason. If this is your first run with eating disorders let me tell you you’re just as lifeless as a woman who went through lobotomy. I wasn’t able to study, I lost all my friends and I wasn’t able to enjoy a single thing in life. I was full of rage and hatred towards the world and myself but nothing else.

I struggled my whole life, thanks to my mom I got the “Eastern European special” growing up. I developed anorexia when I was 11.

“I wish you had your dad’s blond hair and blue eyes like your sister. You should dye your hair. You look better than your other sister tho, she just looks too much like her dad. (She has a different dad.)”

“Your sister is so much taller than you.”

“I was only 45kgs when I was pregnant with you.”

“YOU BETTER EAT SOMETHING, WHAT ARE PEOPLE GOING TO SAY ABOUT ME IF YOU DIE YOU STUPID BITCH???”

Girlie even kept the receipts, and showed me that she really was that thin. She ate less than what a toddler needs her whole life, she wrecked her hormones and her body by the time she was 45 and let me tell you she didn’t stay beautiful. This “slavic doll” trend is disgusting and it actually ages you rapidly. Kids who follow this new pro ana content are obliviously just as troubled as I was but god you really don’t want to grow up with these standards. Not like patriarchy spares you but a mom like this is just an added bonus on the mental illness lottery. We did the same thing with kpop idols but they’re abused as well to look like that. Funny how the inspiration always comes from countries like South Korea or Eastern Europe where patriarchy is absolutely thriving.

It’s all fun and games until your hair is falling out in chunks or you’re still doing this at 25. Your body just doesn’t take it as easy at it used to. When I recovered this time stomach acid burnt my throat and my vocal cords when I started eating, I wasn’t able to talk for days.

Back when I was still in my teens I never understood why older women just “get ugly as time goes on” and I promised myself that I’d “never let myself go.” Now that I’ve been recovered for a few months again I see that they’re not getting ugly, they were never ugly. They just know something you don’t. That you are so much more than your beauty, “beauty” that’s not even real. It’s all photoshop and botox and plastic surgery. Your body’s main job is to keep you alive to be able to ACTUALLY LIVE YOUR LIFE. To eat healthy food, to have fun with your friends, to study, to be a smart woman who knows herself to the core and doesn’t let stupid ideas break her.

#eating disoder trigger warning #disordered eating mention #radfemblr #radfeminism #radical feminism #radical feminist community #radical misandrist #radical feminist safe #radical feminists do interact #radical feminists do touch #trans exclusionary radical feminist #antikink #radical feminst #tw eating issues #ed but not ed sheeran

95 notes · View notes

sweetblossomsss · 2 days ago

Text

Behind The Mask || Kang Yeosang

Synopsis: A cold-blooded, masked king appoints you, a new personal servant. He expects obedience—not the stirrings of emotions to his long-buried heart. Your calm and soft presence softens something within him. His most dangerous dangerous battle? Dressing up as a mere guard and the risk of opening his heart to you because he has fallen for you.

Word Count: 20K. Started: 2022est. Finished: Nov. 11, 2024

Warnings: Fluff, happy ending, angsty, lots of killing, stabbing, blood, death (none main character), Yeosang is known as the king (lots of back and fourth of the names but its the same person), Y/N really can't tell he is the guard, very very sweet lovely dovey moments, historic era, SMUT, one shot, if I'm missing anything let me know!

Blossom's Note: This story had me twirling my hair as I kicked my feet and all I saw Yeosang saying "blah blah blah proper name, place name, backstory stuff." How are my petals? I know its been a while. I'm sorry for disappearing. School and work consumed my time. Yes this story took two years because writers block SUCK and ofc school and work. I hope you all enjoy this story. I hold this story close to my heart. Now without further ado, grab a drink and popcorn and read on!

There he was, the one and only cold blooded king, sat upon this golden with different color rare gems, dragon like throne. Draped in the finest silk robe that adorned red and gold outlines of dragons patterns that just exuded majesty.

His long luscious black hair half up while the down part rests in front of his shoulders. His mask, dark blue with intricate golden designs concealed his features, leaving his piercing brown eyes visible through the narrow slits. His fingers accessorized in hand made green and red jade rings.

The room is filled with tension as his courtiers and advisors, who are also dressed in their finest, maintain a distance around him as they flicker their sight from him to the grand entrance of the royal palace. “Bring her in.” His cold voice slices the silence.

The doors opened, walking in was a guard gripping your arm, forcing you to walk into the room as you stumbled trying to keep up. When the guard let go of your arm, you instinctively fell onto your knees and bowed 'til your forehead touched the floor, “Your majesty.” You say greeting him with the upmost respect.

Your disheveled, covered in dirt appearance made you feel ashamed and embarrassed to be in the same room as him. You stayed down until he gave you the commanded. “Rise,” you heard him say. You lift your head up and slowly stand, eyes remaining on the floor. "Look at me."

Your breath hitched when your eyes first laid on him. The way he sat upon the throne was absolutely captivating. You always wondered who was the man behind the mask. “Why are you here?” His voice echoed in the room.

“I-I’m here to serve, Your Majesty.” You stuttered, nervously swallowing. You felt the sweat beads forming on your forehead as he intensely stares at you.

His eyes remain cold. “I was told that you were one of the few who were sold to the palace.” he said, remembering what his advisors told him.

You nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty,” you answered him, feeling your heart pounding up to your ears. “I’m all alone, as I have no family. They told me to either work at the palace or face a worse fate.”

He stays quiet, studying you for a moment before speaking. “My last servant was removed for incompetence,” He said, feeling the color of your face drain, not liking where this is going. “You are appointed to be my new personal servant.”

You widened your eyes, hesitant before speaking up., taking a small step forward. “Your Majesty, I’m afraid that I do not know how to perform such task properly. I'm afraid I cannot-”

An advisor twisted his face in disgust cutting you off. “You dare question the King’s judgement? You should be ashamed of yourself. It’s an honor to serve the King.” His voice dripping with disdain.

Your mouth parted as you looked at the advisor, "N-No," You looked back at the King gasping as you quickly dropped to the floor, bowing down as you felt your heart sink. "No, Your Majesty, please forgive me. I just-“

“Such insolence will not be tolerated.” The advisor cuts you off as he takes a step forward to you, waving his hand around.

“Silence!” You heard the King yell, making everyone flinch at his voice booming within the room. He glared at the advisor who shrinks under his stare as he moves back to his spot, looking down. “Let her speak." He said fed up with the advisor interrupting you.

The King sighed, trying to calm down his frustrations. "She has acknowledged her shortcomings and is willing to change it. I will give her the opportunity to prove herself to me that she is capable.” He said looking all of his advisors in the room to which they nodded.

You felt yourself shaking in fright, breathing shakily as you had your eyes shut tightly. “Rise,” he commands you and you quickly rise up, looking at him. “Let me make it clear to you. Do make any further errors and it won’t be forgiven so easily. Understood?” he asks you.

Trust that it was a promise, not a threat.

You nodded quickly, swallowing feeling your throat dry. “Yes, Your Mastery.” You said, “I understand my responsibility and will do my utmost to fulfill it correctly.”

His eyes remained lingering on you for a moment, “Dismissed.” He said, leaning back in his chair.

The same guard from before moved from his position, walking up to you and grabbing your arm as he took you away. As you were being dragged away, you looked back and bowed at the King, having eye contact with him before looking forward.

He doesn't know why but there was something about you that had captivated him within minutes. He stared at you, watching you being dragged away until the main doors shut close.

______

After the audience with the king, the guard guided you to where you’ll be living from now on. It was a small, modest house that was right outside of the royal palace but still within the boundaries that separates the place grounds and city. Something interesting to note was that the King’s chamber window was in a clear view of you.

After you finish settling in, you went outside to take a moment to admire your surroundings. The house was nestled by a gentle stream that makes a melodic tranquil noise as the water flows by. Bright lanterns that are strategically placed alone a path and around the house that casts a beautiful yellow glow. Watching the petals of the cherry blossom trees, that are boarded around giving a sense of privacy, fall down as the wind shakes them.

You closed your eyes, turning to where the wind’s direction feeling it blowing through your hair as you take in a deep breath, smelling the nature around you. From afar the King watches in secret not knowing why he was watching. His thoughts were unreadable.

You opened your eyes, feeling a strange sensation of being watched. You turned and viewed the window, thinking someone is there. You could’ve sworn you saw a shadow but once your sight adjusted nothing was there, just the curtains being swayed by the breeze.

In the room the King had quickly stepped back, feeling a bit panicked. He gained his composure before slowly peaking his head out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of you again, but alas you went into the house.

____

The morning sun was starting to peak in as you inhaled and exhaled a deep breath, calming your nerves as you approached the King’s chamber door. You ran a hand down your black robe, a red dragon design outline on your right shoulder, trying to straighten it out before raising your hand to the door, gently knocking. “Your Majesty,” you called out. “I have arrived to help with your morning preparations.”

His deep voice rang muffled, “Come in.” You opened the door stepping into the dimly lighted room as you saw him sitting on a small cushioned bench by the open window, giving you his back. His posture up straight as his hands rested on his thighs.

“Be warned,” he said in his cold authoritative tone causing you to freeze in your step. “My mask will be off as you fix my hair. If you so much attempt to look at my face, you will be punished by death.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” You say, feeling your throat hitch. You make your way to him, hearing the creak of the wood in every step. You’ve heard about the consequences of seeing the king’s face, many have fallen to them. You’ve heard about people sneaking in to see his face, or coming up to him to rip the mask off.

For the longest time, there has been a standing tradition for royals, in this kingdom, to wear masks to ensure their protection and to keep their identities hidden, that includes their name as well. The name chosen for this king was Dragon. It was to symbolize his power and aura.

As you approached, your eyebrows furrowed at the sight of his back. Deep, and some faded, rooted scars were etched across his back. What caught the most attention was one that ran from his right shoulder across the lower back. You couldn’t help but to feel empathy, heartbroken even. Who could do such a cruel thing?

Nonetheless, you kept your composure. You grabbed the brush, ready to start with the preparations. Feeling your longing stare of his back, he shifted slightly in his seat. “Are you ready to begin?” He asked with an underlying edge but stayed calm.

You cleared your throat, “Yes, Your Majesty.” Your hands moved with gentleness as you stroke his beautiful silky black hair. Each pass was tender, smooth as you were able to detangle without any discomfort. Your hands moved skillfully, slow trying to avoid any abrupt movements.

Diving his hair horizontally, you expertly twisted his upper half of hair into a neat bun, pushing in a golden dragon hairpin as the lower part of his hair cascades down his back, tangled free as you ran your fingers through. You grabbed his mask, “Your Majesty,” calling to his attention, “I will now be placing your mask.”

He remains quiet as you gently position the mask over his face. He raises his hand to hold in place the mask as you adjust the strings behind his head, making sure it’s completely secure but not too tight.

When you finished with the mask, you had accidentally grazed the big scar with your finger tip as you were fixing the bottom half of his hair. The next thing you know, he turned around with fury in his eyes, “what do you think you’re doing touching me like that?” he said with irritation hanging off his voice as he gripped your wrist.

Through the slits of the mask you saw his eyes flashing with anger and defensiveness. “Y-Your Majesty,” you say, trying to keep your composure. The death grip on your wrist was hurting you. “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to cause you discomfort. It was purely accidental. I’m so sorry.” You trembled in your words, trying not to cry.

When he sees your genuine reaction something inside him shifts quickly. He lets go of your wrist, making you gasp at the release, and takes a step back. He closes his eyes, telling himself that it’s okay, he’s in no danger. “Just finish helping me get dressed.” His voice sounded a bit strained but controlled.

He sits back down only this time he remains stiff as a board, hyper-aware of his surroundings as if he is expecting to be attacked. He just wants this to be over with already.

Your demeanor remains apologetic and respectful as you continued with your job. With every gentle touch you gave, he would tense at it. You felt so much remorse, but not much could be done. You take a step back once you finished, “Your Majesty, I have finished.” You bowed slightly.

“You may go.” He said, still giving you his back. You walked to the door, reaching for the handle but hesitated. You turned back wanting to say something to ease the tension between you two, but you knew it wasn’t your place. You bowed once more and left the room.

When he heard the door close, he hunched over leaning his arms on his thighs to support his weight. His mind started racing with all these conflicting emotions, feeling like he can hear people talking to him, sounds from battles—everything was talking over him. He yells as he looses control, ripping his mask off and throwing it to the wall.

He breaths heavy, looking at the mask that split into two from the impact. The once silent room was suddenly filled by his faintly, anguished sobs as he falls to his knees feeling defeated. He hated how damaged he was inside and outside. The loneliness took over him as he cried all alone.

______

After that whole disaster, you barely saw him today. You figured he was occupied with his work, not really needing you. It was later in the evening and here you are in the laundry room. The fire on the torch illuminated the room as you worked on his clothes.

You paused for a second, using your arm sleeve to wipe the sweat beads on your forehead before going back to scrubbing the brush against the clothes. Slowly, your washing subsided as the memory from earlier creeped in.

Dropping the brush into the bucket, hearing the clank, you sighed. "How could I do something so stupid," You threw your face into your hands, feeling ashamed, embarrassed. "On my first day, nonetheless."

You rubbed your forehead, staring at your wrist. The adrenaline that was running in you in that moment must've suppressed the full pain because you didn't think your wrist would've bruised up. You moved your wrist around, feeling it just a bit achy.

You shook your head, trying to forget the interaction as you went back to work. "Can't change the past." You tell yourself as you stood up, stretching your neck and back. Your surprise he didn't kill you in that moment considering what he told you the day before.

You bent down, grabbing a wooden basked full of wet clothes by the handles and stepped outside. Feeling the evening breeze, you inhaled the fresh air. You walked to the clothesline, dropping the bowl near your feet, grabbing some clothes and wringing them of the excess water, making sure nothing is soaked up.

As you were placing the clothes and adjusting them to spread out to evenly dry, a young boy who was barely in his teens approaches you. "M-Ma'am," he said nervously as he fumbled with his hands, "The King is asking for fresh garments immediately." he said.

You smiled at him, trying to ease his nerves. He must've been sold as well, so young. "I'll go right now." You say as you finished hanging some clothes, grabbing the now empty bowl and leaning it on your hip for support.

You watched as the young boy nodded and ran away. You looked back at the clothes, checking to make sure everything was okay before gathering fresh garments and heading up to his chambers.

—

As his door came into your view, you started to feel your palms sweaty. Your heart was racing with the memory of this morning. When you arrived you raised your hand, hesitating to knock. When you did you heard him say to come in a few second after.

When you walked in, you saw him standing near the window, his silhouette highlighted by the moonlight, making him look so ethereal. "Your Majesty, I have your fresh garments."

He turns around with his mask on and nods, acknowledging you. You headed to his bed, separating each piece of clothing in an organized manner. You bit your lips, in concentration as you made sure the shirts and pants were laid down flat. “Is there anything else you need- oh!”

You yelped in shock, placing a hand over your chest when you realize that he was standing closely behind you. You let out a breath, “I’m so sorry. I did not see you there, Your Majesty.”

But he stays silent, looking at your wrist tilting his head to the side as he reaches out and examines it. You felt your heart racing when he looks at you, “Did I do this?” He asked and then looks back down, turn your hand over to see the bruising.

You gulped in nerves, slightly taken aback that he was concerned. “I-Uh-“ You fumbled with your words, afraid to tell him the truth not wanting to get him upset. “No. No your majesty, I accidentally-“

His eyes stared into yours, his eyes reading don’t come up with a pathetic lie. “Answer me truthfully,” he cuts you off, your wrist still in his hands. “Did I cause this?”

You bowed your head, sighing in defeat. “Yes, Your Majesty.” You looked back up at his eyes, “But it was not your fault. I mistakenly touched you so I deserve it and any other punishment you might give.”

Behind the mask, sorrow was written on his face. His eyes flashing with regret for a slight moment before returning normal. “I-…. I apologize.” The words felt so foreign on his tongue. “I did not mean to hurt you.” He doesn't know why he is apologizing, let alone even concerned for your well being.

Your mouth slightly dropped as you blinked a few times. Did you mishear him? “No. You do not have to apologize. It was all my fault, I reassure you.” You said to him. “I should’ve been more careful.”

First day on the job and you had the king acting like this? He has no idea who, what, why, or how you have a way to make him feel things within him. Never in the years he’s been living has he ever apologized. So what makes you so different?

You two shared a moment before he cleared his throat, releasing your wrist gently. “Just be careful in the future.” He looked away, feeling uncomfortable with the energy in the room. You watched as he walked to the window, “You are dismissed.” He turned his head to the side to tell you before looking back out.

You bowed, “Yes, your Majesty.” You turned and quickly left the room, gently closing the door as you leaned your back on it letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. You raised your wrist that he held, still able to feel his touch as your felt your heart doing leaps.

Meanwhile in the room, Yeosang was looking at his hand trying to remember the softness of your skin. His mind was running with a million of questions but the main one was; Who are you to be making him feel out of character?

—

It has been weeks now since that interaction with the King, and to say he has been maintain his distance from you is an understatement. Yes, you are his personal servant, yes, you two communicate a lot but even in the same room as him he feels so far.

Yeosang made it a mission to push these feelings, I guess you can call it, to the side. He never showed concerned for your bruised wrist, but he won’t lie that it pained him a bit when he saw you wincing in pain when you did a sudden movement or when it was in the healing stages how the yellow looked frightening.

He never showed any further signs of compassion or concern. Just his normal cold self and commands with the same detachment. You have seen the side of when he gets angry at his advisors during meetings or when they arrive with bad news or when they mess something up. There are times you flinch at his voice when he yells at them. Don’t even get started when it comes to his army. The physical torture he puts his men through to get stronger is not for the weak. But do not think for a second that he is not participating, oh, he very much is.

The many times you have seen him go into practice fights with his men, to which they end up passing out with broken noses, eyes swollen, blood all over there faces as you stand off to the side, holding his robe, waiting for him to finish up. The many times you have stood in the rain watching him and his men move with practice movements in synchrony.

But no matter how much he tries to shove those feelings to the side, he can’t help it when he sees you. For example, you have become an expert in reading his body language, trying to find ways to calm him down during meetings whether it is water, or collecting paper he has thrown in an angry fit, planning the meals that will bring him comfort after a rough day or the way you stand in the rain and run to him with an umbrella, draping his robe over drench shirtless body, having a warm bath prepped for him already. Just little things to big things that add up.

You have yet to see the brutal side that you have heard. But you couldn't help but wonder, what laid behind the mask. Not just the physical aspect but the emotional part. Why did he keep his emotions in a distance. Do you think you guys will share a moment once more?

The bright midnight moon lit your path as you wandered throughout the palace's garden, deep in thought. You ran your fingertips on the bloomed roses, watching them move from the movement as you walked by them. Coming across a stone bench that was stationed in front of the fountain, you take a seat.

You looked at the statue that stands in the center of the fountain, admiring the how the the man holds the woman in a embrace full of passion as she stares at him with eyes full of love. How can someone capture such tenderness and deep affection on stone. The glow from the moon casts on the statue, making it even more enchanting.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" A deep voice rang from the side. You turned to face where the voice was coming from and you spotted a man dressed in a guard uniform.

You smiled at the man, half of his face was illuminated by the moonlight as he leaned on a stone wall, arms crossed. "Very beautiful." You say looking back at the statue then to him, "I wasn't expecting to see anyone at this hour, but I'm glad I have company."

He smirks, "Glad to be of company." He said, pushing himself off the wall. "You know," He said, walking to you, "there's a story behind the statue," he extends his hand out to you, "if you're curious."

You smiled as your gaze jumped between him and his hand. "Do tell." You said, grabbing his hand feeling some rough patches on his hand. Wow, there was no denying that this man was handsome. You took this time to take in his features.

He had a heaven painted birthmark on his left eye, enchasing his piercing stare. The way the moonlight defined his cheekbones, giving him a sharp look. His eyes, for some reason, looked familiar but also striking.

He gives you a small twirl, making your heart leap at the gesture. He places your hand on his arm as he guides the way through the garden. "Well, this statue represents a love story from many, many years ago," he starts off, "The couple were from different social classes, much of the tales of forbidden lovers."

You stared at him in curiosity, his voice entrancing. "They met in this very garden, in secret, away from prying eyes of the palace, society," He said, grabbing your arm pulling you down in some bushes, "Everybody." It was in perfect timing because a guard walks by, looking side to side making sure the coast is clear, oblivious to you two.

When he sees him out of sight he goes on, "The woman came from the royal family, a noblewoman bounded to another man," he says, holding your arms, helping you get up, "While the man she truly loved was a no one, dirt poor, mere gardener."

You're so captivated by the story, you stare at him in awe. He goes on guiding you both on the path from before, "They were so deeply in love, felt like just them two in the whole universe. But from the start..." he paused in the story, looking at you watching your eyes full of curiosity, "There relationship was cursed."

You gasped slightly, eyes widened at the sentence, "No." you said fully engrossed into the story.

The man chuckled at your reaction, liking how your reacting. "But despite all the odds that came at them, they never gave up on one another, still visiting each other in the garden." he said.

No words can describe the way your heart is feeling as you watched him passionately describe the story. He finally stops, turning you as he slowly one by one takes your hands into his, "One night they decided to runaway together." he looks down with a hint of sadness, "But fate was not kind as they were discovered. Everyone saying their love deemed a threat."

He then turns you to face the fountain, your eyes widening at the sight. "They were separated and never saw each other again." He whispered in your ear, behind you. The angle he put you in brought the beauty out of the statue in its most perfect form. The garden surrounded the statue while the full moon shined behind the figure which was breathtaking.

But you couldn't help but to feel heartbroken for the couple. "That's so tragic. I can't fathom the pain they must've gone through." you said, processing the story.

"It is," he says, getting in front of you as he smells a rose he had plucked from a nearby bush. "The king at the time authorized this statue as a tribute to their love." He said placing it in your hair, "A reminder that love can leave a lasting impact."

You felt butterflies in your stomach, seeing him now take position of the statue with the moon behind him now. He looked like he was spotlight of the garden. "May I be honored to know the name of the enchanting lady who has captivated my heart this evening?" he asks, smirking.

You felt yourself blushing as chuckled at him, "I'm Y/N," you said, blushing a bit. "And who might you be?"

He stays silent as he gives you a smile, “if you return, then I’ll give you my name.” He grabs your hand and places a tender kiss, “Until then I must take my leave.”

You felt a bit frustrated with him mystery man, but you couldn’t help but to feel excited to see him again. You watched as he walked away, “W-Wait!” You called out to him and you reached your hand out to stop him, “When will I see you again? When do I come back?”

“You’ll know.” He said as he winks at you, smirking before leaving. You placed a hand on your hip, feeling frustrated even more, “Well, that doesn’t help.” You said out loud to yourself. You then grabbed the rose in your hair and smiled at it as you smelled it, walking home.

—

Meanwhile quicken steps can be heard against the floor as they made steps to the King’s chamber. The door opens and shuts in a hurry as Yeosang leans his back against the door, trying to catch his breath.

He then looks at the window, pushing himself off the door as he makes his way to it. He peaks out to and catches a glimpse of you admiring the rose in your hand as you sat upon the steps of your house. You smelled it once more before breaking out into a smile, feeling a giddy inside.

He watches you get up and head inside for the night. He sighs as he moves to his bed and sits at the edge of it. What compelled him to dress up as a guard and talk to you in such ways he never imagined he could do was beyond him. You captured him and he wants to figure out why he had fond feelings for you.

He feels a sense of anticipation, wanting to see again but as himself as Yeosang, not as the King. You consumed his thoughts. From the way you touched him with tenderness to the way you carry yourself with effortless grace. He laid down on the bed, looking up to the ceiling. "What am I doing?" he spoke to himself.

—

The soft sunlight casted on your skin, your eyes squinted as the sun shines brightly while you walked alongside the King and his guards, roaming around in the city. You took in the scene before you as vendors called to bystanders to try out or look at what they were selling. The sound of children laughing and running as they played with their friends through the crowds while the rest of the town-folks went about their day.

You then spotted a couple who were laughing together as they held hands, looking at the stalls full of jewelry. It reminded you of the mystery man from the garden, that you have yet to see again. Partly because you have just been so busy with your responsibilities and you’ve just been so exhausted.

It has been a couple of days since you last saw him, hopefully he doesn’t think anything bad of you since you haven’t gone back. You can’t help but let out a soft chuckle when you picture him telling you the story. “Something on your mind?” You heard the King ask you making you jump out of your thoughts.

Yeosang had noticed the way you stared at the couple, making you lose yourself in thought. He matched your pace in walking so he can spark a conversation. “Oh,” you smiled, “It’s nothing, Your Majesty.” You tell him, shaking your head.

“Interesting.” He said, as he waved back at the people who bowed and waved at him. Despite his cold demeanor and angry side, he truly cared for his people, wanting to ensure the best for them. “This nothing has you smiling.”

You bit your lower lip, biting back a smile as you felt butterflies in your stomach. “Yes indeed.” You say softly, looking down. “He does.” You whispered that part yourself but Yeosang heard it. He felt his heart flutter at your words.

The silence takes over you two. Still lost in your thoughts, you fail to notice children, who sneakily ran through the guards to approach you. You felt a tug on your shirt, causing you to look down, “Hi there,” you smiled, kneeling down to their height, “how can I help you?”

They looked at each other giggling then back at you, handing you a toy inviting you to play. “Oh, wow!” You gasped in admiration. You looked at the King who nodded his head in approval. “Stay with her, keep her safe.” The King ordered two guards who stood by you as you played with the kids. You couldn’t help but to smile as you played with them, taking in this moment of happiness.

Yeosang went ahead, looking at the stalls, seeing what the vender’s were selling. He then sees a table full of beautifully crafted hairpins, captivated by the designs and gems gleaming as the sun shines over them. When he approached, he saw the owner, an old lady, struggling to get up to greet him. “Please.” He held his hand up to stop her.

She smiles as he bows as best as she can, “Your Majesty,” she said softly, adjusting herself in her seat. “It is an honor. How may I serve you?” She asked, gesturing at her table with her hand.

He doesn’t reply just yet. Instead, he gazed at the variety of hairpins laid out in front of him. He can tell that each piece was delicately and intricately made. “These are beautiful.” He spoke as he looks at her, “Did you craft them yourself?”

She hums at him, smiling. “Yes, all handmade your Majesty. Thank you.” She watched as his eyes roamed all over until his eyes landed on a beautiful red rose hairpin. Behind the mask, his mouth opens in awe as he grabs it, examining the beauty of it. This is the one for you.

It was the perfect replica of the rose he gave you that night. He then turns to look at you in the distance, watching you tickling the kids as they fall into your embrace, full of laughter. He’s mesmerized at how your beauty shines more when you laugh. Behind the mask, he smiles at the sight of you.

“My husband use to look at me like that.” The old lady said full of warmth and nostalgia as she looks between you and him.

His eyes widened as he turned to look at her in shock, “W-What do you mean?” He said, stuttering feeling as he was caught red handed. Was it that obvious?

She chuckled gently, “Your Majesty, forgive me,” she said leaning forward causing him to lean in as well, “No mask can hide the eyes of love. Not even the coldest exterior can conceal what the heart truly feels.”

He lets out a low laugh, which makes the old lady be in shock before laughing with him. The cold king can laugh? “There is something about her that calls to me.” He tells her, feeling happy he can let this out of his chest. “Thank you for your wisdom and courage. Not many can talk to me in that way. It’s rare to find someone who can see so clear.”

He hands her the pin. “I would like to purchase this one.” He tells her and she grabs it as she wraps in a red handkerchief. “How much will it be?”

She shook her head, holding her hand out to stop him. “Free of charge. Anything for you, your Majesty.” She hands it to him, smiling.

“How much is it-“

“Young man-“

“Young man? You know I am the King, correct?”

“I am older than you. Respect the elders, correct?” The woman hits back at him. No one would ever speak to the King like this but he likes how she treats him as if that’s her grandson.

He tilts his head to the side as if saying try me as he extends his hand out signaling for his guard to give him the pouch full of coins. He places the pouch on the table, pushing it closer to her. “All yours.” He said, smirking behind the mask.

She looked at the pouch and gasped at the kind gesture. There was no way she felt comfortable taking that amount of money, “Your Majesty-“

“Please. You work so hard, you deserve it. Besides, it’s been a while since I was scolded like how my grandmother did. You remind me of her.” He said as he tucked the handkerchief away in his robe, making sure it’s safe.

She bowed and repeatedly thanked him as he walked away. He walked to your direction, watching your rise up from your feet, dusting off the dirt from your pants and hands as the children scampered off. Your face radiating a glow from the brief interaction with the kids. “The children really enjoyed your company.” He chimed in as you walked alongside him, feeling a huge shift in his demeanor, seeming more relaxed.

You looked at him with a smile, fucking some hair behind your ear, “Oh, they were just delightful.” You said, “I enjoyed spending my time with them.”

“It was a beautiful sight.” He mumbled to himself, looking ahead.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “I’m sorry your Majesty, did you say something?” You asked him.

He shook his head and let the silence take over once more. You didn’t question him. But behind the mask he was sweating bullets. Did he really speak his thoughts out loud?

—

It was getting late, deeming it time to go back to the palace. The King had mentioned it to the guards that it was time to leave, but in reality Yeosang has been wanting to see you again in the garden, in hopes of giving you your gift.

Just as you all were about to leave, a sudden commotion erupted. Everyone within the group froze, turning around quickly to examine what was happening. You see fellow townsfolk staring at where the sound was coming from but soon shifted to them running away as a group of masked men dressed in black charged through the stalls.

They were jumping on the stalls, smashing goods, overturning stalls in their path—panic was surging quickly as the crowd started to push one another to leave the scene as terrified screams radiated from them. You frantically looked around, watching people pass you as the guards tightened the circle around the king and you.

You felt the once relaxed demeanor shift into a protective one as the King grabs your arm, holding you close behind him. His eyes darkened when he sees the incoming masked men, “Y/N,” his voice rang in your ears, “stand behind me.”

You nodded, trembling in fright. “Yes your Majesty.” The sounds of the swords unsheathing made you more into a nervous wreck. Soon enough the king’s guard stepped into action, hearing the clashing of swords as you heard yelling from both sides.

One assailant stepped up to the king, which instinctively caused you to take a step back, trying to rip the King’s mask off his face. Your eyes widened at the action making you gasp as you covered your mouth with your hand.

The king was faster than him. He sidesteps, grabbing the man’s stretched out arm, giving it a twist and forced it upwards. A nasty pop sounded in his arm causing the man to scream in agony. Yeosang shoved him to the floor, turning to fight another attacker.

Without hesitation, he leaped into action using hand to hand combat skills, bringing down enemies. The precision and strength he had was able to tackle many of them down, one after another. You slowly backed away from them, scared to be caught up in the middle.

You then bumped into something, causing you to turn around to see an assailant, tilting his head side to side, almost as if a snake in trance, wondering what he is doing to do to you. You wasted no time turning to run away, but he was fast. He grabbed a fist full of your hair as he dragged you down to the floor, dragging you by your hair.

You held your hands onto his wrist, screaming in pain as your scalp burned. “Let me go!” You yelled at to him as you tried slapping or punching his hand. He roughly lets go as he gets on top of you, backhanding you causing you to slightly lose your consciousness as you felt the corner of your lip bleed by the impact.

You looked to the side, seeing the king fighting as your vision gets blurred. You then feel the weight of the attacker on you as he placed his hands on your neck, starting to choke you out. “Please..” you whispered with whatever breath you had left.

You clawed his hands in struggled desperation. Panic surged through you as your vision blacked out little by little as your fighting is subsiding slowly. Amidst in his own fight, from the corner of his eye Yeosang saw what was happening to you. His heart was racing when he saw your hands drop, closing your eyes. Something within him exploded at that sight as he quickly dispatched the guy he was grapping with, twisting the man’s neck as he killed him.

Yeosang takes out a blade he keeps hidden within his robe and in a swift motion and precise throw, he hurls it to the back of the head of the attacker. He watched as the attacker stiffens and then falls on top of you as blood spews from the back of his head.

Yeosang quickly runs to you, shoving the man off of you as he holds you in his embrace. “Y/N,” he said, tapping with some force on your face to wake you up, “Come on, wake up, wake up,” his voice trembled with fear, “please, Y/N. Wake up..”

You then shot your eyes open, gasping in shock as your hands shot out keep pushing the man off of you but he wasn’t there anymore. Your throat felt raw and burned as you coughed. You felt a hand on your face causing you to jump in fright as you shoved them off of you. “Hey, Y/N it’s okay!” You heard a familiar voice. “Y/N, it’s me.”

You looked at the king in fright. “Your Majesty-What-,” you cut yourself off as you looked around, “What happened?” You asked him as you looked down at your blood stained clothes and the dead body with the blade behind its head. “Oh my god.” You gasped as you looked away.

“Look at me, Y/N,” the King helps you up as he cups your face, “You’re okay.” He reassured you as you nodded at his words, feeling dizzy as you tried looking into his eyes. “It’s over. It’s over.” He cleans up your fallen tears, you didn’t even notice you were crying, with his thumbs. “It’s over.” He tells you once more.

His guards were able to take control of the situation. The danger was finally over, but the encounter had left a mark on everyone. “Call for more guards, we are going to clean up this whole mess, aid those who got hurt. Imprison all the assailants, I’ll handle the rest in there.” He told his guards, his eyes never leaving your face as you looked at your surroundings. In unison bowed, giving a strong yes sir.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He said as you nodded at him as you walked back to the palace, hand placed on your back as he guided you. He’s going to take care of you right now, forget the responsibilities you two hold right now.

—

The dimly lit prison was heavy with tension as the sounds of the assailants muffled whimpering, groans of pains filled the ears of everyone in the room. You watched as they trembled in fear, faces now in display with swollen, bloody, beaten up features as all the mouths were gagged with a black cloth while others cold dead on the floor.

You said that you never saw the brutal side of the king tonight was the night that changed everything. Surrounding the room were the palace guards that were holding stern faces, barely illuminated by the flickering torchlights as they stood in the position of attention. You stood in the middle, up against the wall away from the king and the prisoners, watching how he slowly removes his regal robe as he approached the weapons table.

You swallowed nervously, looking down feeling afraid of what he’s going to do next. He dropped his blood stained silk robe on the floor, reaching for a rag on the table to dry off his hands full of blood. His back scars on display for everyone to see. His arms reach over to grab a knife, getting lost in thought as he moves it around, watching it gleam from the light.

You slowly lifted your gaze at him, watching him drop his arm, standing still as he stared ahead to the wall in front of him. His eyes flickered with void, behind the mask his expression was darkening, feeling the surge of anger coming over him. His people were in danger— you were in danger. He could never live with the fact that he let you get hurt.

“I’ll ask again,” his deep voice rang in the room causing the prisoners to whimper in fright. “Who sent you?” He turned around and faced them, causing them to widen their eyes in terror as some had tears falling down.

As he walked closer, the whimpering grew louder, a desperate plea for mercy. Some shook their head in disbelief as others begged with a muffled cry. Yeosang takes calculated movements, watching them as if they are his preys. You gulped as you watched this new side of him take over him.

You let out a shaky breath when you see him kneeling down to one of them, using the tip of his knife to raise his chin to look at him in the eyes. “You,” he said. “Things will go smoothly if you just comply with me. Who sent you here?”

The man shook his head as he tried speaking through the cloth that covered his mouth. “Shhh,” he hushed the man as he lifted the knife to the cloth, shoving the knife underneath it and he cut apart letting the man speak freely. “Speak.” He demanded.

“P-Please have m-mercy on me.” The man cried out to him as he bowed his head. Yeosang just laughs in his face. “Mercy?” Yeosang repeated, with a wicked smile behind the mask, “Mercy you asked of me? When you attacked my kingdom?”

The man whimpered when Yeosang drags the knife down from his temple to his jaw, not too deep but enough to draw blood, “Please, your majesty forgive me.” He pleads with him, closing his eyes tight in fear.

“Okay.” Yeosang said nonchalantly, looking at him with darkness in his eyes. The man parted his mouth in disbelief as he looked at him with widen eyes, “O-Okay?” He questioned. Yeosang placed a hand on his chin for support as he shrugged, nodding his head, “Okay.” He confirmed.

The attacker let out a breath of relief, guard coming down. Yeosang took the chance to jab the knife into his throat causing you to look away as if you’re going to throw up. “All is forgiven.” He said as he watched the knife slide out the man’s neck as he drops to his side, blood oozing out.

You closed your eyes as you heard the man struggling to breathe. You felt tears dwelling in your eyes, wanting to leave this place. You inhaled a sharp breath as you looked back at the king, feeling scared when you see the king stand up in frustration.

The king has been going at this with hours and nothing has yet to come. His patience, as you can tell, is wearing thin at this point. “Maybe we should try a new question?” He said as he flips the knife in his hand. “Which one of you is the leader?” He asked, pointing the knife at them.

The men shared panicked glances, but not daring to snitch on who it is. Yeosang’s jaw tightened, feeling angry again. But he tried to not let it affect him as he carefully looked over at the men, stopping at one who is particularly shrinking in his spot as he looked down, shaking a bit side to side.

Yeosang approached him as he grabbed a fist full of hair and yanked his head up to face him as he knelt down in front of him. “It’s you, isn’t it?” He tilted his head. He removed the cloth from his mouth but the man was too afraid with fear caught in throat. Holding the knife to his jaw, “Speak. Or should I slit the answer out of you?” He asked pressed the side of the knife into his neck.

“No, wait!” The man spoke out with widen eyes, “it’s him!” His eyes pointed to the man next to him which causes the man to yell at him, muffled. “He’s the one you want.” The man guided Yeosang with his elbow. “P-Please..”

Yeosang smile widens as he let go of the man's hair, standing up as he towers over the man next to him. “Finally,” The way he stood over him like a shadow of death. "Why don’t we start again, mmm?" he tilts his head to the side at him. The man frantically looks all over the room, trying to find an escape. Yeosang lets out a evil laugh that gave you chills down your spine, "Try all you want. There's no escape."

In a swift moment, he gets behind him, grabbing a fist full of hair as he pressed the knife shading the man’s throat. The man shivered as he closed his eyes pleading for someone to rescue him. “You hurt my people,” he whispered in his ear, “You hurt someone I care about.” He said as he looked at you.

You didn’t know what the king was whispering in his ear, but what you do know is that you froze in fright when he looked at you, letting out a shaky breath. The prisoner looks at you, “Don’t. Look. At. Her.” He hissed to the man as he pressed the side of the knife deeper into his neck causing the man to close his eyes as he shook his head.

The anger of him looking at you, the anger of seeing you helpless, the anger of your precious face hurt, the anger of seeing you lifeless in his arms— he loses it. He stabs the man on the thigh, dragging it upward causing the man to scream out in agony. The king shoved him to the floor as he gets on top of him, hand over his mouth, shoving the cloth further into his mouth.

“Answer me!” He yells at him as he turns on the knife in his thigh, “Who sent you?!” He asked once more as he takes out the knife and holding up against the prisoner’s face.

“-ee-in-om.” The prisoner said, repeating the same muffled words. Behind the mask, Yeosang furrowed his eyebrows as he reached to remove the cloth from his mouth. “Lee Kingdom.” The man breaths out, his chest heaving, “The Lee Kingdom sent us here to harm you.” He confused as he gulp, trying to moisten his dry throat.

Yeosang froze as he watched the man confess, the words processing in his head. He slowly stood up with the knife in his hands. You watched as he stood over the man, the lights shining on his sweaty body as he gave you his back, watching it rise from his heavy breathing.

The Lee Kingdom, how could he forget for a second? For years these two kingdoms have been at war, fighting for ownership of respective lands. He scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head as he looks down. He should’ve known this attack was park of a larger scheme orchestrated by them.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “Turn around.” He commanded. Within seconds you saw the guards turn around, making you look around in confusion. “Eyes.” He said. In sync PERFRCTION, the guards take out a blindfold as they wrapped the cloth around their eyes.

You furrowed your eyes in confusion as you take a step forward to the King, “Your Majesty-“

“Y/N,” he cuts you off as you froze in your step. You watched as he lifted his head, staring out the prison window. “Leave and wait for me outside.” He lifts his hands and slowly takes off his mask causing you tu turn away in fright, your heart was racing when you heard the men screaming.

The men were trying to stand up as they tried to find a way to escape, knowing the consequences of seeing his face. They know they are not leaving here alive. “I don’t want you to see this.” His voice rang through the screams as his mask dropped on the floor. You quickly ran out the door, the sound of the door closing faded the terrorizing screams.

You ran down the hall with a hand covering your mouth, feeling nauseous forming in your throat. You ran up to a wall as you placed your hand on it as you leaned for support. You felt yourself breathing heavy as you tried catching your breath. You placed your back against the wall, sliding down as you covered your ears hearing the screams.

The screams that followed a desperate pleas for mercy tugged on your chest. You knew they deserved punishment, you knew they caused harm to the kingdom but you can’t deny the fact that seeing such gruesome acts brought fear into you. Especially seeing the King do it. Each scream was more gut wrenching than the last.

You sniffed, removing the hands from your ears as the screams suddenly stopped. You let out a shaky breath as you blurred vision stared at the door down the hallway. The eerie silence makes your skin crawl as your heart pounds so loud to your ears as you slowly get up.

You take small, hesitant steps to the door but froze when you heard the door creak open. You soon see the king stepping out with blood splattered across his upper body as he puts his robe on, concealing the brutality that took place. His eyes never met yours as he walked past you with composed steps.

He heard your slight hesitation in steps as you followed behind him. He can sense how your perspective on him change— he’s now the cold blooded, brutal king everyone talks about. How can he face you now?

He stops in his steps, “Are you alright?” He asked in a gentle tone, turning his head to the side to talk to you. The concern in his voice was genuine, but his actions weights heavily on him. “I’m sorry you had to see that. But it needed to be done. I would do anything for my kingdom.” I would do anything for you, he wanted to say.

You paused in your steps. “Yes, your Majesty.” You nodded. “I understand.” You said quietly.

He inhaled and exhales as he turns to fully face you now. His expression behind the mask softens instantly as he sees your scared state. He sees your bruised up lip and slowly gets close to you. You controlled your breathing as you see him approaching. Slowly he grabs your chin to turn to the side to examine your lip but you jolt back as the flashback him holding the knife up to the man’s chin flashes in your mind.

You gasped as you looked away. You then looked back at him with your head bowed. “Forgive me. I-I don’t know why I did that your Majesty.” His heart felt a slight pang as he dropped his arm, slouching slightly in sadness.

“No, it’s okay.” He said gently, looking down. “Clean up your lip and be careful with your neck. There are a few bruises.” He said pointing to his neck. He sighed as he turns around, walking away from you.

“Go home and rest for the night, I’ll handle the rest tonight.” He said raising his hand to give a small wave. “Take care of yourself please.”

You bowed as he walked away, “Yes, your Majesty.” You stood up and watched as he disappeared from the hallway. You sighed as you started walking to your house, reliving the whole day in your mind.

When you entered your house, you walked up to a mirror looking at the state of your face. Your eyes red and swollen from crying, your lip slightly bleeding but your neck is what shocked you the most. Your finger tips run over the hand prints on your neck as the flashbacks of the attacker on top of you pops up in your mind.

You sighed as you shook your head, trying to forget it as you walked to your window. The moonlight peered in as you approached it, looking up to the king’s chamber window only to find him standing there already, gazing out to the moon.

Your heart leaped when he looked down, catching you looking at him. You slightly jumped back but gave him a small wave and a smile. He nods as you before stepping back and closing the curtains. You leaned against the wall, still looking at up at him. Behind the darkness, there is a beautiful soul within him.

—

The next morning, you headed to the palace. You beat the sun in rising as you see the golden hues peaking over the stone walls that surrounded the palace. "Good morning," You were greeted by one of the usual guards, "The king wishes to be alone today." He gives you a small sympathetic smile as he took in the injuries in your face.

You were taken aback, "Oh," you felt slightly sadden that he does not need you today, but you understand why he needs his solitude. "Thank you for letting me know." You said as you looked down at the clothes you brought him, "May you hand this to him?"

"Of course." The guard said as takes it from your hand. "If anything changes, we will come and get you." He said as you nodded and bowed, leaving the scene.

You gnawed on your lower lip as you walked away. You truly wish you can speak to him about yesterday and to apologize once more from jumping away from his touch. You wonder how he is able to cope with the weight that carries, wishing there was something to do to ease the pain.

The day was a blur as you were preoccupied with other responsibilities. You held hope in your heart to be called by the king but nothing. The sun began to set as the sky was painted with hues of pink and orange while you walked to the garden.

The peacefulness of the garden was slowly becoming your safe haven. It was a place where you can escape from all of weight of your stress. You take a seat in the familiar stone bench, your thoughts swirling around in your head as you sighed.

"I thought I was never going to see you again, beautiful." You heard a familiar voice say with a tinged of amusement. You looked at him with a soft smile tugging at your lips as you hear his words sinking in.

You rose from the bench as you walked to him, watching his expression change, "I'm so sorry. I have been overwhelmed with my resp-"

"Who-What-," he cups your face as he examines it cutting himself off from his shock. You winced slightly from his movements, feeling your neck hurt. "Are you okay?" he asked looking deeply into your eyes.

You gave him a small smile, "Yes. Do not worry. I'm okay, I promise." You say as you held onto his wrists, looking back into his eyes.

His face holds sorrow as he looks at you. His eyes holding a familiar gaze, "I'm so sorry." He apologizes, but you tilt your head to the side, "What ever for?" you asked him.

"I'm sorry this happened to you." He said as he leans his forehead against yours. "I should've been quicker." He says closing his eyes, remorse in his tone.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What do you mean?" You asked him. You felt him freeze for split second, but relax as he opened his eyes. "I mean that I should've gone quickly to the king's aid when I heard about the news of the attack. I didn't know you were there." He said clearing his throat at the end.

Your close your eyes with a sweet smile, "Please, it is okay. I promise you." you tell him, trying to ease his worries. "I'm just happy to see you again.", you opened your eyes looking into his.

"Me too," he whispers with sincerity as he looked at you in memorization, "Me too." He grabs your hands, interlocking his with yours. "So tell me," You say changing the topic, "What story do you have for me today?"

He chuckles as he walks backwards, pulling you with him. "Well, can I show you something?" He smirks, "I think you're going to like it." He turns around, guiding you with one hand now.

You bit your lower lip, feeling a smile forming on your face. But then you stopped, "Wait," you tell him. He turned around with furrowed brows with a head tilt. "You promised your name." You crossed your arms at him, smirking.

He chuckles as he looks down, taking a step to close the distance between you two. "Yeosang," he says looking up at you, "Kang Yeosang." He feels a huge weight coming off his chest now that he gave you his true identity. His true self.

"Yeosang," You repeated, making his heart flutter at how you say his name. He extend his hand out and you happily take it. It had been years that he has heard his name and he was happy that it was you to say it for the first time in a while. "Lovely name Kang Yeosang." You two laugh as he keep guiding you.

You two laid on the grass, hearing the sweet sound of the stream flowing by as you stargazed. Your eyes twinkled in admiration as you looked at far away lights with your head laying on his chest, arm draped over his stomach. Yeosang has one hand supporting his head behind him, as the other was wrapped around you, holding you tight in his embrace.

He felt like he was dreaming in this moment. There was no way the woman he admired was now in his embrace. He wishes he could stay in this moment forever. "The stars are beautiful tonight," he heard you say as you snapped him out of his thoughts. He hums in agreement.

You closed your eyes as his heartbeat and the stream make music to yours, "How did you find this place?" You asked him, opening your eyes to look up at him.

He smiles at the memory before speaking, "One day, my work was getting to be too much. I felt overwhelmed so I sneaked out and stumbled into the woods, wanting to be alone, wanting some peace and quiet." He looked up at the stars as you stared at him in admiration. He remembered the time he was starting as king, the advisors all surrounding him, talking all at once and showing him paper works, as he tried focusing everything at once but he just exploded at them to leave. He later on snuck out of the palace and into the woods.

"Yeosang," You called to him. Oh, he can hear you say his name everyday, until he dies. "May I ask you something?" You asked him as you turned onto your stomach as you rest your chin on his stomach.

He smiles at you as he ran his fingers through your hair, "Ask me anything." He told you as your heart fluttered at his actions.

You smiled, sitting up, seeing your hair running through his fingers tangled free as his hand dropped onto his stomach. "How come you became a guard?" You asked, wanting to get to know him better.

He stayed silent, remembering when he was ascended to the throne. He remembers the weight behind the crown, the responsibilities of ruling a kingdom, how he has to hide behind a mask for the rest of his life, all the scarifies he made— He sat up slowly as the thoughts suffocated him. "I became a guard because," he paused for a moment, "because it was a duty that fell upon me to take."

He remembers the difficult trained he endured that was specialized just for the King. Those scars on his back were from the time he was told to stay still while they beat him with sticks or whips to build up his pain tolerance. The many times he had to stand still in harsh weather environments to build up his immune system- the battles he was in as he remembers losing some of his men and the nightmarish screams.

"There comes a time in life when you're called to step up to take a heavy role you might not have chosen for yourself." He continues as you placed a comforting hand on his. He smiles as he interlocks his hand with yours, "For me, it was about protection and guidance, ensuring welfare and safety of my people— like the kingdom in general." He swallowed nervously, thinking he had exposed himself.

He thinks about how countless lives that depend on him everyday, putting a great amount of stress on him. "Knowing that you cannot afford to mess up because your next moves can impact countless lives," he looked at you, "It's daunting, but a privilege."

Your heart feels heavy for him when you hear him finish the story. Your thumb caresses the back of his hand. You sensed that there is more behind his words, but you didn't want to push further. "You're incredibly noble, Yeosang. It must be a hard burden to bear." You tilted your head in sympathy, "You must've given up so much."

He smiles as he looks at your interlocked hands, "We have burdens," he thinks about when he first became king, swearing to protect his people, "but how you carry them out defines who you are." he said looking at you.

You nodded in agreement. "Thank you Yeosang." you say, "Thank you for sharing with me. I know it must've taken a lost to share so I appreciate it."

"No thank you for listening." He smiled. He turned his body completely to face you adjusting himself as he gets closer to you, "Now, enough about me," he said, "Tell me about you."

The way his eyes were filled with interest, made you look down a bit self-consciousness, "Oh, there isn't much to say." You chuckled, "I don't think I have an interesting story like you."

His expression softens, casting a faint knowing smile that plays on his lips as he stared at your black robe with the red dragon outline. "Well, judging from the dragon on your robe," he nodded with his chin, " I would say otherwise."

Your mouth parted slightly in surprised as you looked at the dragon on your robe and back at him. He chuckled at your reaction, "The symbol isn't just given to anyone," he said answering your thoughts on how he knew, "The dragon represents trust, loyalty, and a deep connection to the king himself. You were chosen to serve in a position of great importance. The alone say a lot about who you are."

"Oh, I did not know that." You chuckled sheepishly "I guess I never thought of it in that aspect before." You said, looking at your robe, "I've always seen it as my responsibility. My duty. Something I was chosen to do."

He smirks at you, "And that's exactly why your story is worth telling." He pauses for a moment, kind of hesitant to ask, "How did you end up at the palace?" he asked, softly.

You glanced down, sadness taking over, "I, um-" you cleared your throat. "When I was young I lost my family. It was hard, honestly. To be a child who grew up in the streets, surviving on scraps, struggling to find a place to sleep-" You paused feeling an overwhelming of emotions coming in.

He raised your hand to his lips, placing gently kisses on it, "Please, don't worry." He comforts you, "Take your time." He said softly as he looked into the tears dwelling in your eyes.

You nodded as you inhaled and exhaled. "No child, or human, should go through the struggles I went through. I know my education and knowledge is not top tier— as you can see from how I did not know about the robe. As I got older, I was able to do get by by doing small tasks for people. Then one day, marches in the king's guard," You say as you remember that day. "They mentioned that they were offering food and shelter in exchange for a life of service." You chuckled softly when you remember how quickly you ran to offer yourself.

"It wasn't much of a choice honestly." You shrugged at him. "It was either go with them or continue to struggle. And well, here I am." You tell him. He stares at you in memorization, he is amazed by the strength you have. "Wow," he said in admiration, his eyes twinkling. "You're... incredible." He breaths out.

You laughed at his reaction, playfully shoving his arm. "No, no. I'm not. Just someone who is trying to survive life." You saw, downplaying yourself. He shook his head, "You are so much more than you think." He said.

After a few minutes, he clears his throat. His eyes roam around," S-So how is it working for the King? It must be hard at times, no?" He then shoots his eyes back at you, making you laugh. To say that he was nervous and terrified of your answer was an understatement.

"Well," you take a deep breath in and out. You took a moment to think about your answer. "Where do I even begin?" You thought out loud as you looked up to the sky. Yeosang scratched the back of his head as he sits up straight, trying to calm himself down.

"It's very.. complex." You began, carefully thinking of your words, "There are days I feel overwhelming weight of my responsibilities, but there are also the moments when I feel privileged to be in the position I'm in. But serving him isn't just a job, it's about being there for someone who carries the whole kingdom on his shoulders."

He stays quiet as he listens. You put a small smile on your face, "The king... he isn't just a ruler to me. He's someone who cares deeply for his people. He's someone who has to make the difficult decisions with their best interests at heart. I've seen him at his most vulnerable, seeing him make those tough sacrifices every day."

Your voice softens further as you look at Yeosang, "I see him in a different light contrast to how people see the worst in him. People think that he just rules with iron fists, with no emotions but they couldn't be more wrong. Behind closed doors I've seen him carry the weight of the crown, the burden of every choice he makes, every life he's responsible for. He may not show it openly, but he cares more deeply than people realize."

"It's not that he lacks emotions," You say, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, "He's just learned to hide them, guard them well so to protect himself from the vulnerability that comes with showing them too much. There's strength in that. Being able to withhold so much and keep going."

Yeosang was in awe of how you spoke of him. He looked down as he felt tears in his eyes, "You see the humanity in him, don't you?" He asked in a low voice.

"Yes, I do." you nodded your head, "That's why I'll keep serving him with everything within me. If there is anything I can do to ease his burdens, I'll do it. Because I believe in him for who he is, not as the king everyone sees."

He looks up with a tear streaming down his face, "I apologize," he chuckled, looking away wiping his face, "Those words spoke to me deeply."

"Oh, Yeosang," you cupped his face, making him turn to face you as you wiped his tears away with your thumb, "Don't be sorry. It's okay to let yourself be human. Maybe you relate to the king in some aspects, mmm?."

He just laughed, nodding at you. If only you knew, "Yes, maybe." He said leaning into your touch as he placed his hand over your hand that cupped his face.

Since that night you have been seeing him quiet often at night in the garden. You two enjoyed sneaking around the night shift guards, hiding in bushes or behind stone walls as you two stand chest to chest at times, or how stargazing has become a things between you two, or the random sweet talks you have when walking to his secret place, or enjoying a childish act like throwing water to each other from the stream.

As each day passes, you two grew closer and closer. There was one special night where you two laid next to each other, moonlight casted on you both as you looked into each others eyes. Soon you saw Yeosang leaning in causing to flutter your eyes close, raising your eyebrows in shock when he kissed you. You both opened your eyes when he pulled away. He then sits up and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. He hovers over you as you two returned to kissing passionately.

Let's not forget how your house is filled with bouquets of flowers he makes every time he sees you from random bushes or the flower field you two pass by in the woods. He always walks you home and hands you the freshly made bouquets before kissing you good night and leaving. You feel completely over the moon when you see him and you realize you are falling deeply in love with him.

And here you are once again, walking into the garden, seeing him sat upon the bench. You smiled mischievously as you sneaked up behind him. Yeosang, who was trained to spot noises from miles away, knew it was but wanted to give you a chance to scare him.

You covered his eyes. "Guess who?" You smiled as you felt him stiffen up but then relax in your touch. "Oh, wow, this is hard," he smiles when he hears you giggling. "Might it be," he pounders for a second, "the woman who has my heart?" He asks, causing you to laugh as you remove your hands, taking a seat next to him.

"How did you know?!" You gasped in a fake surprise tone. You placed a kiss on his lips. "Mmm, it was a wild guess." He tells you as you leaned your cheek on his shoulder, looking up at him.

"How are you doing?" You asked him, eyes twinkling. "Much better now that you are here." He smirks as he places a hand on yours. "I wish we could stay here forever." He whispers to you.

"Which reminds me," You say nervously as you played with your hands, looking away from him. "I wanted to ask you something. I-Is there a reason as to why we only see each other at night? How come you never stay longer with me?" You asked him. "Are you afraid to be seen with me?"

His eyes widened at the last question. "What? Why would you say that? That is not the reason at all." He grabs your chin and turns your face to look at him. He sighed, "My love, you know that I have my guard duties that take up my time during the day. And since we sneak around at night, I get worries we will be caught." His thumb caresses your cheek.

You nodded, looking down. "You're right." You tell him. "I apologize. I don't know why I let my thoughts get to me." You chuckle sheepishly, trying to ignore the pang of sadness forming in your heart. You want to be able to be a couple in peace. Like those that you saw in town. To be able to showcase your relationship freely.

His heart breaks, watching your emotions changed. "How about I spend the night with you?" He asks, his mouth speaking faster than his thinking.

You cleared your throat, "Huh?" Your eyes widened. Why are you acting so shocked, isn't this what you wanted? "Oh- I um-"

Yeosang holds his hands up, trying to stop your thinking. "Oh. N-Not like that-"

You let out a sheepish smile. "Oh- okay, I was just-"

"I mean, unless you want to." He cuts you off again. He widens his eyes, "No- wait- It's your choice, but I just wanted to sleep with you." He shook his head as he slapped his forehead in embarrassment. "I mean I want to lie with you." He shakes his head and throws it back frustration. You make him so nervous. "I mean-"

You stand up, "Yeosang," You cut him off with a smile. You extended your hand out to him. "Come with me." He chuckles at himself as he grabbed your hand.

The silence had a comfortable feeling as you two lied in bed together. You two faced each other as you looked into each other’s eyes all mesmerized as he had a hand cupping your face. “Thank you for staying the night.” You say softly as you smiled.

“Thank you for letting me.” He said smiling back at you as his thumb caressed your thumb, causing you to close your eyes in delight. He chuckled lightly, “Are you tired?” He asked you as you nodded. He lays on his back, arm open for you to come into his embrace, “Come here.” He tells you.

You blushed, feeling butterflies in your stomach as you get closer and feeling him warm embrace enclosed around you. His heart was racing, feeling as if he can die in peace now. “Good night, Yeosang.” You tell him as you adjusted your head on his arm.

He leans over and gives you a kiss on your forehead, “Good night Y/N.” He leans his head back onto the pillow as you two drifted to sleep. How he wished he could stay in this moment forever.

Early in the dark morning Yeosang slowly opened his eyes. He had to get back before the sun rises. He looks down at you, gently removing you from his embrace. He watched as you shifted slightly in sleep, groaning a bit before getting back into a deep sleep. He chuckled as he turned to your table, taking out a red handkerchief and note.

He looks back and presses a kiss on your forehead before slowly backing up and quietly leaving your house. On his way to the chambers he can’t help but to smile knowing that he shared such an intimate moment with you.

—

You heard the birds chirping, your nature alarm. You groaned when you felt the sun peering into your room as you held your hand out to block the brightness. You turn your head to the side to see if you spot Yeosang but he's not here. You sat up and looked around, rubbing your sleepy eyes, “Yeosang?” You called out to him, but he was no where in sight.

You pouted knowing you weren’t able to say goodbye. But maybe you’ll see him later on tonight. You sighed as you removed the covers from your legs as you stood up, stretching your neck as you prepared the clothes for today, seeing as you have busy day with the King as he has meetings.

You then walked to the kitchen to prepare some tea but was stopped when you saw a red handkerchief and note on the table. You furrowed your eyebrows as you tilted your head, “What is this?” You asked yourself as you picked up the note.

It reads, To the woman who captured my eyes, my heart, my soul there are no words to describe what you make me feel. Out of all the roses in the world, you bloom the most beautiful. This pin represents the beauty you bestow. - Kang Yeosang.

The warmth of his words made your heart leap as you smiled at the note. You placed it down as you grabbed the handkerchief, slowly unraveling it. You gasped at the sight of the rose hairpin. You grabbed it, letting the red cloth fall to the table.

You sighed out a gasp as you moved it around your hand. You turned and quickly walked up to your mirror as you adjusted your hair and slide in the pin, turning your head to the slide to admire it. Oh yes, you really love this man.

Here you are in the grand room of the palace as you stood behind the King, dressed in a red robe with a black and gold dragon outline on your shoulder with your new rose hairpin on display. Your eyes scan the room that was filled with the advisors, military leaders, and other high ranking officials. The atmosphere was tense, thick with the weight of important decisions that yet to be made.

Throughout the meeting, you stood by him, watching his body language shift in different emotions. The discussion today was about the plan on the up coming war with the Lee Kingdom. You felt knots of fear forming in your stomach as you tried to keep your feelings at bay. You watched how the men in the room yelled at one another as they voiced their opinions on what they should do or what they assumed was a horrible idea.

Many tried to speak for the king which only made things worst. Everyone in the room flinched and went quiet when he heard the King slam his hands on the table, standing up. "Why must you all handle this which such incompetence." His low voice rang. You gulped, wondering what his next actions were.

"General," He calls to him. The General sits up straight, "Yes, your majesty?" He said clearing his throat, trying to make his voice sound strong and not in fear. "Gather all the men tonight. Start their training at dawn. They must be prepared for what is to come." He looks up at the men in front of him. "We are going to showcase the most historic bloodbath known to man. We will make them regret ever attacking our kingdom."

They all nodded in silence. "Everyone is dismissed." He says. With that everyone stands up and bows in unison. The king walks pass you, looking out the window while everyone leaves the room. When the door closes, he lets out a sigh, feeling exhausted and burnt out.

"What is troubling you?" He asks you, sensing your uneasiness. Well, what weren't you thinking of. You were internally freaking out about this war, about how many guards were going, is Yeosang going to be one of them, what if he were to get hurt, what if he were to die, what if- "I sense something is disturbing you." He said turning you, approaching you with his hands behind his back.

You held his gaze slightly caught off guard by his direct question. "It is nothing, your majesty." You shook your head masking your emotions. He tilts his head, a way of saying don't lie. You sighed in defeat as you looked down. "I'm just afraid of this war. The many lives that will changed. The people we might lose." You looked at him, "Are all guards going? I-I just want to make sure you'll be safe." Not a lie, but you want to know if some are staying behind.

His eyes lingered on you almost as if he's trying to see pass the walls you put up. He stays quiet for a second before breaking it, "We will be sending majority of the guards. Some will be staying behind in case of anything." He gets closer to you, "I know this meeting was unsettling to you, but rest assured that I do not intend to lose." His tone softens up.

You gave him a small smile, looking down and back up at him. "Of course, your majesty." You return the soft tone. "I believe in you."

He nods, turning around. "Very well," His cold self returns in a matter of seconds. You were use to it already. "You are dismissed for the day. I will handle everything else from here." You bowed as he walked out the room.

After a few minutes, feeling as if he was already away from the sight, you quickly ran out the room to the garden in hopes of seeing Yeosang.

—

You felt the world spinning as you ran all over the palace trying to find Yeosang. You shouted his name, hearing your voice echoing his name throughout the halls, but there was no response. An overwhelming sense of fear was coursing through you.

Your search led you to the garden as you frantically turned your head looking for him. The wind was blowing roughly, making your hair fly as it created a harsh hum in your ears, hearing some leaves rustling by. You let out a choked sob as you hugged yourself, feeling sadness consuming you.

What if you don’t see him before he leaves? What if he was already shipped for training? What if he doesn’t come back from the war? What if— “Y/N?” A voice snapped you out of your rushing thoughts.

You gasped as you turned to his voice, feeling your heart leap in relief at the sight of him, “Oh.” you say as you run to him, trying to ease yourself.

Yeosang’s expression softened at the sight of you as he opened his arms to embrace you. He kisses your temple as he hugs you tightly, “My love,” he lets go as he goes to cup your face, “What’s wrong?” He asked you in a gentle voice, the sight of you broke his heart.

“Yeo-“ you cut yourself off with a sob as you held onto his wrists. “Yeosang, please tell me you aren't going..” You shook your head as you looked into his eyes. "Please tell me." You cried out.

He sighed as he leaned his forehead against your, closing his eyes, “My love—“

“No, no. please don’t.” You cut him off, not wanting to believe it. “Please, just stay. Stay with me." You sniffed. "Let's runaway. Let's just get out of here before it's too late." Your voice broke out into a whisper.

His eyes had tears dwelling in as he looked into yours, using his thumbs to clean the fallen tears. “My love,” he said as you whimpered in sadness at the name, “I would do anything to stay and be with you,” your eyes held on for tiny bits of hope, but it was shattered, “but I must go.”

You removed his hands from your face as you sighed turning around in frustration. "My love. This is something I have to do. I cannot just stand by and do nothing." He tells you, trying to grab your arm but you yank it out of his grasp.

He takes a step back at your actions, eyes widening. You stare at him with angry tears streaming down your face, "Why not?" You asked him. "Why you? Forgive me for being selfish, but why not anyone else? Why must you go and someone else gets to stay?" He stays silent. "What if I lose you?" Your hand clutched your chest, feeling your heart being crushed.

He sighed as he takes a step to you, cupping your face, "No. Don't say that-" He shakes his head.

You sobbed. "What if you don't come back to me-"

"Stop it." He cuts you off with a serious tone. "Look at me, please." He begs of you. "You will never lose me. I promise you, I will come back to you." He kisses your lips to calm you down.

You imagine about him not coming home after that promise. "Don't make such promises. What if something-." You close your eyes, sniffing.

He smirks, tilting his head to the side. "What? You think I'm weak? I feel quite offended that my woman thinks I am not capable." He jokes with you, trying to lighten up the mood.

Even in a situation like this he knows how to make your heart flutter. Even in a situation like this, he knows how to make you smile and laugh. You let out a soft chuckle as you shoved his chest playfully. "I will come back to you. No matter what." He places a kiss on your forehead.

You looked at him as you nodded. "Okay." You say quietly. "I-" You say, cutting yourself off, feeling nervous. "I love you."

His mouth parted slightly in shock. His eyes moved between your eyes and lips as he leaned in and kissed you. He kissed you as if tomorrow does not exist. "I love you too." He said between kisses, making you melt in his touch. "More than you know."

—

And that was the last you saw of Yeosang. That day he told you he would be gone for training. How long? No idea. Would you see him before he leaves? Much less. You really tried your best in not letting your emotions show but it's so hard. The king even notices the change in your demeanor, how you have been delaying his commands or making small mistakes you don't normally make.

When he asks you what the issue is, you just tell him your scared for this war. Which is not a lie. You are terrified of this war, of what will happen to Yeosang, or the king, hell, even the kingdom if we lose. You don't mean to doubt the strength of your king, but you just simple cannot help it right now.

You were tending to your responsibilities one afternoon, helping out with supper that will be packed up for the in-training guards. That is until one of the king’s guard came up to you, halting your actions. “You are needed in the king’s chambers,” he said causing you to look up at him, “Immediately.”

You stood up from your seat, removing your apron, “Yes.” You said feeling your heart racing with confusion and anxiety. “I’ll be on my way." You quickly abandoned your position as you hurried throughout the palace.

The sense of urgency in the guard's voice made you uneasy, wondering what had happened that the king needed you so urgently. You paused for a moment to catch your breath, swallowing to moisten your dry throat, when the sight of the doors came into your sight.

You wiped your hands down on your robe, fixing yourself before approaching to the door. You looked at the two guards who gave you a nod, signaling to enter the door. He steps to the side and opens the door for you.

You inhaled and exhaled, feeling your heartbeat in your ears with every step. Your eyes scanned the room and found him standing near the window, watching how his hair and opened top robe gently swayed from the wind. You took in his nightly robe, all silky white with a black dragon outline in the back.

The doors closed behind, letting you speak in private. "Your majesty," You say as you walked to the center of the room, "You summoned me? Is everything alright?"

There was a silence in the room before he inhaled and exhaled, “I was thinking about you.” he said causing your eyes to slightly widened. “And I was thinking that,” He pauses as he turns around to face you, mask still on his face. “you deserve to know the truth.”

Now you are just confused. You furrowed your eyebrows as you tilted your head to the side. “What do you mean your majesty?”

He takes a few steps forward, still maintains his distance. “There is something I must say," He pauses once more, looking down, " but I’m afraid of your reaction.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, taking one step forward, "Your Majesty," your tone comforting, "You do not have to afraid with me. Please, whatever is troubling you, tell me."

He stares at you. “I don’t think that I can hide from you any longer.” He said making you tilt your head in confusion. “H-hide? What would you be hiding from me that you’re afraid of how I’ll react?” You asked him.

He walks slowly to you, closing some the distance a tad bit more. “Do you trust me?” He whispers to you, looking back and forth at your eyes as he stops in-front of you.

You nodded, “Of course. With everything within me.” You reassure him. You watch as he slowly raises his hand up to his mask, fingers gripping at the edge of it. Your eyes widened as your breath hitched before completely turning around, "Your Majesty." His title coming out reflexively, as your tone was filled with shock and fear.

The room was filled with nothing but your shallow breaths. Your heart was pounding up to your ears, terrified at his actions. "Please," you heard his voice tremble with vulnerability, something that was unheard of from him, "Look at me." he begged of you.

You shook your head. “With all due respect your majesty,” you gulped nervously, “I- I don’t think I can. Why-Why are you doing this?" You stuttered at him as you frantically looked all over the floor, feeling shocked with his actions.

You jolted when you heard the thudding of the mask as it fell to the floor, feeling your heart racing even more. Is this a test of trust? "Y/N, please look at me. I promise you it is okay." You heard him say as he gets closer to you causing you to gasp as you covered your eyes with your hands.

"Your majesty, I don't think this is right." You felt your chest heaving, feeling beyond terrified of the consequences. "We mustn't. For your own protection."

There was silence- only your heavy breathing can be heard. You weren't sure as to why he would do such a thing to you or why he would even bother trying to show you his face. This must be a test, no doubt. You stood still, waiting for his response as you still covered your eyes.

He sighed as he looked down, "To the woman who captured my eyes, my heart, my soul," He spoke in a low voice. You froze. Slowly you dropped your hands from your face as your eyes widened in disbelief, your mouth parted in shock. "There are no words to describe-," his voice broke in sadness, "To describe what you make me feel."

Slowly, hesitantly you turned to face him. A trembling hand covered your mouth as you took a step back, "No.." You whispered at the sight. You felt the in coming tears burning the inner corners as you blinked in doubt.

"Y/N," he said your name causing you let out a gasp. The way he says your name- it bring you back into the fact that this is reality. This is real. . "I'm so sorry I kept this hidden from you." His eyes carried rawness, reflecting the vulnerability he had been hiding behind the mask.

You shook your head as you said no like a mantra as your hands held your head as you looked around the room as if you're going crazy. "This can't be happening." You spoke your thoughts out loud. You watched as the king—Yeosang— take a step forward but you took a step back, “No! Stay away from me.”

“Y/N,” his voice broke as he sniffed, “Please let me explain.” He said as he took another step forward, cupping your face. “My love-“

“My love?” You repeated in disbelief as you shoved his hands off. You stare at him with anger in your eyes. “Do you have any idea what you have done?” You asked him as you watched tears streaming down his face. “I trusted you-“

“My love, I know-“ he cried in sorrow and regret, coming close to you again but you backed up once more.

“How could you do this?” You clutched onto your chest, feeling your heart break. “How could you do this to me? To us-” You looked at him as a shiver went down your spine, realizing that you are looking at him. “A-Are you going to kill me?”

His mouth parts in shock as he stares at you in disbelief, “Why would you- No. No, I would never, ever do that to you.” He lets out a sob as he gets closer to you once more cupping your face. “Y/N please just give me a chance to explain myself. Let me prove to you that I am still the same man you know, despite the title I bestow. I’m still the same man who is deeply in love with you.”

"Your Majesty-"

"To hell with the that. It's Yeosang," he cuts you off. "Yeosang." he repeated, holding your face to look into his eyes. You stayed silent as you looked into his eyes that was full of desperation. He leaned his forehead against you, "Let me explain my actions please. I beg of you." He pleads with you. All you were able to do is nod, watching him let out a shaky breath of relief.

"Y/N," He begins, "From the moment my eyes laid on you, I knew my world was never going to be the same. Time slowed and all the noises in my head faded away when I was with you. I felt human again. I felt alive." He grabs your hand and places it on his chest, "You feel this? My heart beats for you. I would do anything for you, Y/N." He spoke from his soul.

"I portrayed myself as a mere guard because I couldn't risk it if they found out about you while I was in my king attire. I couldn't risk losing you. Yes, I know," he said as he watched you looking to the side, crying as he cupped your face to look at him, "I should've said something but I was afraid. Afraid of being caught, afraid of how you'll react, afraid of everything while doing this risky thing. Y/N, I have done things that haunt me at night but when I am with you they disappear. I wanted to know the real you and for you to know the real me."

He wipes your tears with his thumb, "I'm so sorry for pain I have brought upon you. I'm so sorry for making you fall in love with me, I'm selfish I know. But I, too, fell in love with you. Before I went off to war, I needed to tell you, no matter the outcome of me. Believe me, I never wanted to hurt you." He finishes as he hugs you tightly, pressing a kiss on your head.

You cling onto him as the words he spoke sink into you, crying into the crook of his neck. You felt torn apart with the love you had for him and the reality of your circumstances, "Why must you go? Why must a war happen in order to have peace?" You cried out to him. You removed yourself from his embrace as you looked into his eyes, "Even if you do win the war, you and I will not win. They will never let us be together. They will tear us apart- They will send me away." You whispered as your voice broke, "You're a royal. I'm nobody. We can never be."

"That doesn't matter," He shook his head, "I will-"

"Doesn't matter?" You repeated as you sniffed. "Look at what they did to the couple in the garden." You reminded him of the statue. "We are just like them. If it happened to them, it will happen to us."

He felt anger coursing in him. He takes a step back and kneels in front of you making your gasp, "Yeo-Yeosang, what are you doing? Get up. You don't have to do this." You say as you walked to kneel down with him but he puts a hand out to stop you. The sight of a powerful king kneeling in front of you felt surreal.

"If getting on my knees proves that I would do anything for you, then so be it." He said looking up at you. "I love you. You are the reason I am able to keep going. Your status or my status means nothing to me if I don't have you. I can lose everything and I can live with that but if I lose you-" He clears his throat as he looks down, cutting himself off. "I wouldn't be able to live. To hell with what people say."

You fall to your knees as you lift his face in your hands as you placed a gentle kiss on his. He exhaled as he felt your soft lips. "Yeosang," You say when you pulled away, "I have discovered so much with you. You taught me the meaning of true love, an emotion I never truly felt before. Words cannot describe the immense joy you have brought into my life. To be in this lifetime with you is blessing. I have deemed our love to be the richest thing I have ever owned in my life." You gave him a small smile, "But I.. I need time to understand what this means for us. For me."

He removes your hands gently from his face as he brings them to his lips, placing gentle kisses on them. He closes his eyes as tears streamed down his cheek, nodding. "Of course, my love," his voice barely a whisper, "I understand."

You felt as if a rock had crushed you as the days leading up to the departure neared. There was no doubt in your heart that you loved Yeosang. But you were afraid of how the advisors would react, how the people of the kingdom would react. You would rather stop the relationship between you two then to be sent away, never seeing him again.

Here you are in his room, dreading that it is the last time you will see him in a while as it is departure day. You were summoned by him, of course. He stood in front of the mirror, mask off now, as he watches you through it, seeing how you walked back and forth from the bed to him.

He watched as you handled his armor with care, placing it on him with a gentle touch. He closed his eyes delight as he felt your hand through his hair. He opened his eyes to take in your features. The way you bit your lips in concentration, how you furrowed your eyebrows- even with his intense stare, you moved with practice precision.

You turned around to place some accessories on the bed and turned around only to slightly jump back seeing him stand there. He smiled at your actions as he placed his hands on your arms. You gave him a small smile as you lifted your hands to fasten the straps of his armor adjusting the plates to ensure they fit well. As you finished with the last piece, you hesitated for a moment, your hand lingered, slowly gliding it down to his chest.

You looked into his eyes, taking in his features as well. Admiring everything you loved about him. "I brought something." You say the breaking silence, "I want you to take this." You reached in your robe and grabbed your rose hairpin he gave you. "I wanted you to think of me." You gave a sad sheepish smile.

You grabbed his hand and placed it as you rolled his fingers to grip it well. "I'll keep it close. I will carry you in my heart." He said placing it inside his clothes. His hand take home behind your neck as he pulled you closer to him.

"You better come back to me, Yeosang." You said with heaviness in your heart. A deep rooted fear inside you as you think this might be the last time you will see him. You felt a lump forming in your throat as you felt his thumb caress your lips. "Please."

"No matter what happens," He said looking into your eyes, "I will return. Besides," He gave you a playful smile, "You think I am weak?" He asked as he tilted his head.

You chuckled as you playfully hit his chest, softly. "Keep that smile for me." He said leaning his forehead on yours, running a his thumb over your lips. "Everything is going to be okay."

He looks into your eyes for permission before looking at your lips, asking for one last time. You held onto his shoulders as you two shared a passionate kiss. Feeling his hands roaming the curvature of your back, pulling you in, wanting to feel you tightly against his body. You melted into the kiss as your hands snaked down to his biceps, gripping at them as you held on for dear life in this heated kiss.

You two pulled away, panting as you tried catching your breath. "I will come back." He says.

The sun casted over the city as people from all over gathered to watch the king and his army departure. You stood among the crowd, crossing your arms as you heart felt heavy knowing what might or might not unfold as the wind blew in your hair. Everyone then falls in silence as they see him appear on a beautiful majestic horse, dressed in his armor and matching mask.

His presence commanded attention, eyes fixed on him. "My people of the Dragon Kingdom," his voice cut through the stillness of the morning, "Today we march, but not just for our defense of our land, but for the future of our people." His eyes roamed the crowd as he took a pause. "This path that is ahead of us is fraught with danger. I know many of you may have fears and doubts. But trust in me when I say the commitment I have to our kingdom and it's people is unwavering."

His continues to gaze over the assembled crowd until it landed on you, remaining his sight on yours when he says, "We will face this challenge together," He said. You knew he meant it meant more than the war. It was also about your relationship. "I will return, not just as your King but as someone who carries the hopes and dreams of each and everyone of you within him."

The crowed roared in excitement, cheering for their ruler as they jumped and threw fists in the air. He straightens his back as he takes in the roars of the crowd. His eyes scanned one final time before looking at you once more. You mouthed I love you and watched as he nodded before lifting the rope to turn his horse. He gives his men a command as they yelled yes in unison as started marching.

You watched as they walked away, feeling a sense of sadness and pride. The crowd around you slowly starts to disperse as you watched the last of the soldiers disappearing from view, making you the only that stood there. You inhaled and exhaled remembering his words. "Everything will be okay."

Weeks have past since the departure and the absence of the king and his army hung over the entire kingdom. The usual liveliness and bustling of the daily life was replaced by this harsh silence in the palace. Like many others, you were trying to grasp this new reality. You would often find yourself wondering the garden late at night, not bothering to be caught.

You would walk into his chambers to keep things dust free, switching the bed sheets in case of his arrival at any moment. You would run your hands over his clothes, missing his warmth. At night you would run your fingertips over the note he had written you, or how you would fall asleep with the note clutched to your chest as you dreamt about him.

You would walk into the woods and stargaze alone, hearing the stream fill up your mind with tranquility. You wished upon stars every time you visited, wishing for protection over him and a safety return. As each passed you feel yourself going through a mixture of emotions that range between hope and lack of faith that everything will be okay.

One morning, you heard a pounding on your door causing you to jolt up in your bed. "Miss Y/N, the-" You stood up quickly as you ran to door, not hearing what the person was saying as it sounded muffled. You opened the door and saw a fellow palace worker with a smile on her face. "The King and the army is back!"

You stood in shock as your eyes widened at the news and in perfect timing, the bells rang signaling the arrival of the king. Never in your life have you gotten dressed so fast. You rushed to town, hearing the gravel underneath every step. You scanned around as you saw people forming a crowd quickly. "Excuse me. Sorry! Coming through." You repeated as you passed through and stumbled to the front of the crowd.

Your heart flutters at the sight of the army marching in with Yeosang in the center as he looks bloodied and hurt. The crowd roars with cheer as they seem approaching into town. You see as the palace workers rush to tend to the army and your feet didn't stop you as you ran to Yeosang. You watched as they helped him off, taking his first steps to you all wobbly causing you to grab his arm, placing it over your shoulder as you became his support while you two walked. "I told you I would come back." He whispered with a tired voice as a lazy smirk painted on his lips behind the mask.

You dumped the bucket full of warm water, lifting your arm sleeve as you placed your arm inside to check the temperature. You removed it shaking your arm to remove the excess water, "All prepared for you." You say as you turned to him and gasped when he removed his mask. "What are you doing?" You whispered at him as you tried moving the mask back to his face.

He moves your hand away and cupping your face, eagerly kissing you, "I missed you." He whispers to you, kissing you with so much love that you melt in touch. But you break the kiss, looking back the door, "Someone can walk-"

"I'm the king. No one will touch that door unless I say so." He cuts you off, thumb caressing your cheek. You gulped at how those words made your knees weak. He kisses your forehead and smirks at you, "I'll call you when I am done bathing."

You sat up straight when you heard Yeosang calling your name from inside the room. You knocked and heard a gentle come in. Your heart was beating up to your ears when you see him standing, giving his back to you as he adjusted the pants around his waist, tying up the strings.

Your eyes then capture the red scratches, bruises that was marked all over his body. He turned around with a smile but slowly dropped when he saw your teary eyes. His eyes followed your sight as he looked down and saw the the markings. He looked back at you, giving a small smile, "It's okay." He tells you as he walks to you.

A surge of emotions rushes to you as you choked back a sob as you covered your mouth, "My love," He cups your face, "Look at me," He tells you centering your face to look into his eyes, "Please don't cry. I promise you I'm okay."

You sniffed. "How can I not be saddened at the fact that you got hurt?" You say as your fingertips roam his arms, your eyes looking at his bruised stomach. "Your pain is my pain." You sniffed.

He stays silent as he takes a step back, eyes locked on yours. You watched as he turns around, head turning to the side, "Can you..." he pauses, inhaling and exhaling, "Can you touch my back?" He asked you in a whisper.

Your eyes slightly widened at his request. Your mind flashes back to when you accidently grazed it. "I won't hurt you." He said, "I promise." You were still for a second before slowly taking a step forward. You raised your hand, hovering over his back. You exhaled as you gently placed it on his back. You feel him stiffen up as he let out a shaky breath feeling your hand roaming his back, tracing his scars, finger tips grazing the bruises.

"When I first became King," He said with a slight tremble in his voice. He was trying to replace the the brutal touches with your delicate ones. "I had to undergo brutal training. One of the training methods was to not let pain affect me during a fight which involved getting beaten with a stick." He explains to you and you gasped in shock. "In order for me to succeed, I had to stand still. No reaction."

Your hands froze as tears streamed down your face. "My father thought it was a method to show endurance, resilience, and emotional control." You shook your head as you leaned your forehead on his back, placing your hands on his waist, sniffing. "A horrible way to get you to detached you from physical discomfort. One day my father got tired of me failing and took matter into his hands, causing the scar across my back."

You placed a sweet, lingering kiss on his back. He drops his head and you feel his shoulders shaking. You moved in front of him as you lifted his face to look at him. "I'm so sorry for all the pain you endured." You tell him as you two shared tears. No one spoke a word as you two fell onto your knees, you hugged him tightly as he cried into your chest as you comfort him. "For as long as I'm here. I will do all I can to protect you." You tell him as you ran your hand through his hair.

For the first time in his life, Yeosang is no longer crying alone. He has someone he can lean on. He has someone.

After the moment you two shared, you had helped him get dressed for the night of celebration. You stood along side him as he sat upon his throne. The atmosphere was different- townsfolks were singing and dancing amongst each other, some clanking wooden cups as liquor spilled out as the laughed, beautiful music coming from instruments. Everything felt right. Minus one thing- what will become of your relationship.

But it's as if your thoughts were heard when you watched Yeosang standing up, raising his hands as the festive energy momentarily hushed down. "My people," He spoke, "Tonight we celebrate those who fought bravely in battle." You watched as people raised their cups. "As well as the end of conflict of hundreds of years. From here on out, this is a new journey for our kingdom. Throughout this voyage, I have discovered many things."

He looks at his advisors who offered a subtle nods of encouragement and approval. "It is with a full heart that I must share with you all," His gaze returns to the crowd, a smile on his face behind the mask. "I have fallen in love with a beautiful woman." The crowd erupts with surprised gasps and whisperings. "But this love is not bounded by the traditions of nobility. The woman who holds my heart is not of noble birth. She is a commoner."

You tried your hardest to not show any reaction. You licked your lips as you looked down, clearing your throat. You then looked back up as you bit your tongue to focus on that pain to try and not smile because there was no way your relationship was accepted by the advisors? How did that even happen? You watched as the crowd stirred with curiosity and murmurs. "I choose not reveal her name nor face, not out of secrecy but to ensure her safety. I know her position as a commoner makes her vulnerable and I wish to protect her from any undue attention and scrutiny."

He takes a deep breath as he continues. "The values we hold dear and the future changes we will embrace in this kingdom are inspired by the person I love. It is my hope that this will lead us to a better future where every individual is valued for who they are, not for their status."

With that finishing note, the crowd cheers for the new version of this king. They sense a positive change in him, making them radiate happiness throughout this festival. From the distance, Yeosang spots the old lady from the cart to who waves and bows at him to which is returns a nod in her direction as he turns to sit back upon his throne.

He calls to you and you bend forward, "Meet me in my chambers." and you felt yourself freeze.

Here you were. In his chambers. And to say you were nervous was an understatement as you walked and forth in the center of the room as you wiped your sweaty hands on your clothes. You then hear footsteps outside which causing you to look at the door as it opens up revealing Yeosang.

He swiftly removes his mask and drops to the floor as you two run closed the distance to each others embrace, sharing a sweet kiss. You pulled bac with a smile on your face. "I-Wha-How-" You two laughed at the fact that you couldn't even speak. "How did you even convince the advisors? When did you talk to them? What did they say?" You bombarded him with questions.

He smiled as you two gently swayed side by side in love. "Let's just say I have my many ways." Basically when the advisors were going to deny him, he went full berserk mode. He explained how he is the king and he has the right to change laws as he wished, he has the right to love whomever it was, and plus he threatened to show his face but that made everyone drop to their knees and begged for forgiveness. Maybe being ruthless came in hand for certain things. "I told you I would do anything for you." He tucks your hair behind your ear.

"That you did." You smiled at him. His eyes shifted to your lips as he leans in and captures them. Your hands snaked up his arms they tugged the back of his head, feeling this kiss starting to heat up. He backs away, "May I?" He asks you as you franticly nodded, wanting his touch again.

He kisses you again as his fingertips trail from your jaw to between your breast. The slight touch makes you gasp slightly as he undies the front of your robe. He backs up slightly, both of you softly panting from the intense kiss as his hands slide into your robe, sliding your clothes of your shoulders, feeling his rough hands on your arms.

The air hits your exposed skin, your nipples harden at the cold. He kisses you once more, his hand reaching to the back of your hair as he tugs it back, exposing more of you neck as he trails his lips down causing you to moan at the sensation of the pulling and kisses. You kicked your robe that was pooled around your feet as he guides you to his bed, his mouth sucking a sweet spot on your neck.

When the bed it the back of your knees, he gentle pushed you down as he hovers over you, "You're so beautiful." He says lowly, planting a kiss right above your nipple causing you bit your lip. "I'm a lucky man." He tells you as he starts to suck your nipple as his free hand slightly pinched the other one. Your chest heaves at the feeling, throwing your head back.

He looks up at you, mouth still latched, groaning at the sight. He lets go as his lips traveled further down your stomach, causing you to clench onto nothing. He position himself between your legs, his hands sliding up your thighs as he hooks his fingers at the side of your silky soaked panties. He took his time in taking them off, biting his lower lip at the glistening sight.

The way the moonlight made your body glow looked so heavenly. Watching how your juices shine as he peppers kisses along your thighs, inching closer and closer. You felt your eyes dilate as your mouth parts when he started to suck on your clit. He lets his tongue slide between your folds before returning to suck your clit.

You arched your back when you felt his fingers rubbing on it, grabbing his hair when he shoved his tongue in and out of your hole. "Oh." You moaned out. His fingers swiftly moved into you as he went back to sucking on your clit. "Oh, oh right there!" You moan out, grabbing the the bed sheets. You buckled your hips up, only for him to hook his free arm underneath your thigh, holding you in place.

You were a whimpering mess when he quickened the pace, feeling the slight burn of the stretching he gave you. His tongue was flattened between your folds as he moved his head up and down, soaking in all your juices. "I- oh- Please-" You couldn't even comprehend words right now.

He hovers over you, fingers still at work. "Please what, my love?" He asked you as he leans down to suck of your neck some more, trailing down to your nipple. The sensation sent you on a overload of pleasure. "I need you." You cried out between the moans. He smirks at the sight of you as he removes his fingers, quickly getting up, undressing himself.

You propped yourself on your elbows, your mind a haze as you watched him remove his clothing. He teasingly took of his underwear, eyes widening at the size of him. He walks back to you, hooking his arms underneath your thighs as he drags you closer to him. He leans down, "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked you and you nodded, giving him a kiss. "I've never been more sure."

His eyes stayed locked on yours as he teasingly rubbed the head between your folds, lathering it up with your juices for a smooth glide in. He then positioned himself aligned with your hole, slowly going in. You gasped at the burning sensation, mixed with pain and pleasure. You gripped at arms for dear life with every movement he did. "Slowly, Yeo." You tell him. With every move, he waits for you to give the signal to move.

Once he is fully in, you stay there for a moment to adjust to his size. Feeling tears coming in from the pain and he wipes them away as he kisses your lips. "You're doing so good, my love. You feel so, so good." He praises you. "No one can make me feel how you make me feel." He kisses your cheeks, caressing your hair. You exhale, "Yeosang," You call to him, "I'm ready."

He lifts your leg, wanting to feel them both wrapped around him as his other one supports him as he hovers over you. He slowly thrusts in and out of you, groaning at the tightness around him. The way you suck in him, makes him want to lose control. Little by little the pain is gone and replaced with just pleasure.

You moan at the way he stretches you out so good. "Faster, please." You tell him as you clench around him. "Are you sure?" He asks you. "Do it." You tell him, sounding impatient causing him to chuckle at you, "Whatever my lady wants, she get's." He says as he places his hands behind your knees as he lifts your legs over you, giving you what you want.

You screamed at the new depth of pleasure this position gave you. "Tell me, how does it feel?" He asked you in between breaths. "I- Oh- So-o go-good." You try speaking out but it was no use, you were gone. You grabbed the sides on the pillows near you head as you bit your lip down, muffling your screams. Yeosang loved this new view of you, struggling to maintain your composure as your breast bounced with each thrust. "Touch yourself." He said.

"What?" You breathed out as you looked at him. "Touch yourself for me." He repeated. One of your hands let go on the pillow as you trailed it down your stomach to your clit. You rubbed yourself, jolting in the overwhelming pleasure it gave you. "Yeosang, I think I'm- I'm close-" you cut yourself off with a moan. "Me too Y/N." You loved the way he said your name in that deep tone.

He lets go of your legs, making you gasp in shock with the sudden movement as he hovers over you once more. "Finish with me, my love. I know you can do it." He tells you as you nodded, hands gripping onto his shoulders. Soon enough you felt as if a knot undid itself. You moaned out, feeling like you're seeing white from this overwhelming feeling. He leans down and kiss you as he swallows your moans, moaning into yours as as he cock twitches at his release.

Slowly he rides out both of your highs, laying down on top of you as your hands take home in his hair. Both of your hot, sweaty, sticky bodies, but you both didn't care. You felt as if you were in heaven right now.

The morning light shined into the chamber, causing you to groan as you used your hand to cover your eyes. You heard a chuckle in-front of you. You parted your fingers, looking through them and saw Yeosang sitting his bench, back leaning against wall with his arms crossed. "What are you doing up?" You asked him as you slowly sat up, bringing the sheets up to cover your chest. He stands up and walks to you, cupping your face, "I wanted to watch you sleep. You looked beautiful."

You smiled at him, "Why don't you join me?" You asked him as you pulled him towards you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you kissed him. He smiled into the kiss, "I love you." He said. "I love you more." You responded.

He was propped up on one arm as his other one caressed your arm, watching you sleep again. He smiled brightly looking at the rose hairpin he was able to place in your hair without waking you up. He throws his arm over you and brings you closer to his embrace. For the first time in his life, he was happy.

THE END

#yeosang scenarios #yeosang #yeosang x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez hard hours #ateez yeosang #yeosang ateez #kang yeosang #ateez reactions #ateez #yeosang x you #yeosang x y/n #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez fic

63 notes · View notes