#its not a big flat thankfully | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

takes1 · 2 months ago

Text

tsukishima and yamaguchi are incapable of sharing you

is this a big metaphor? maybe. i dunno. it's steamier this way. read between the lines or something. two weeks of having a cold? or covid? or the flu? idk what it was but it burnt me outttttt

warnings. suggestive, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / suggestive fluff / love triangle? love shape? / fighting over reader / unrequited crushes / suggestive touching / touch starved!tsukki / touch starved!yamaguchi / sports massage, hot / best friends / girls team!reader / sadomasochism clawed its way into my fluff fic / tsukki is transactional / boyfriend material!yamaguchi / brotherzoning, friendzoning / daichi has canon aura / 4.1k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. my imagines.

"Oh, wow--," Tsukishima's cruel and quiet snicker at your expense was inevitable. He pushed one side of his headphones off of his ear.

His brow raised in amusement at your exaggerated wobble, how you were unable to stand on your own.

Yamaguchi kept his arms stretched out for you to grab and help yourself up, a master at utilizing any excuse he could to hold you.

"Isn't this- I dunno- kind of excessive?"

He sighed, palms flat against your back as you stumbled into his chest.

He expressed no real urgency to let you go. The guy was -generally- touchy with all of his friends, so it was never worth raising any color flag over.

"We-- hah-h," You gripped his forearm when you tried to take another excruciating step on your own. You sunk to the floor so fast he didn't even think to try and catch you.

It spurred another rare, genuine laugh from Tsukishima.

You cleared your throat with some attitude, and attempted to gather your dignity before trying to get up again.

"-We did lose."

Now, especially, you could truly appreciate his tendency to help. This practice had been group punishment for losing your last big game.

Sparing the gruesome details, it left most of the first-years in horrible condition. Even the more experienced girls on the team were ambling away at a slower pace, wincing, under the weight of their own bodies and struggling to take one step down from the gymnasium.

"(Y/n)!!"

You all stiffened. That was Michimiya's voice- you thought all the upperclassmen had gone, but she popped her head out from the exit and sounded just as intimidating as usual.

"Yes ma'am?" You called, a grimace all over your face.

The two boys shifted further away. They weren't technically supposed to be here, yet, and kept their heads tilted to the floor, expecting to be scolded for not going straight home.

"Head to the training room and roll your legs out-- I need you better before Friday! You two--," She hesitated before telling them to leave, vaguely aware that you were all buddies. "Help her, please."

"Yes ma'am!!"

Just like that, she was gone. Your eyes were shining. You were needed. For the team.

"Oh my gosh..." You bit your lip.

"That's awesome!" Yamaguchi laughed, excited for you. If Daichi had told him something like that, he'd be over-the-moon happy.

Tsukishima crossed his arms, unable to relate, and now tied to this place even longer.

He didn't validate your silent request to be helped. He only came across as cruel, but his real reason was objectively worse.

Thankfully, Yamaguchi was there to fill in the gaps of his awkward, ill-timed difficulty. You smiled at his light concern, an 'okay' of sorts to let him know he could find your condition funny, too.

"Th-anks-- hh-ah... shit,"

It was so much worse now. You wished you had listened to your teammates, to not sit down ten minutes ago, no matter how much you felt like you needed to.

Tsukishima watched, hands deep in his pockets with no intention to be of free service. That sound of struggle was almost as satisfying as hearing you ask for help.

You didn't let go of his hands for a few seconds. The weight of your body was a lot to handle- you kept his palms squeezed hard in yours and were beyond grateful he stayed, unbothered by it.

They were technically tasked with getting you to the training room, but you only had faith that Yamaguchi would see it through. Tsukishima might go as far as to get on the first train home, all alone, because that's how much he hated waiting on other people.

Yamaguchi, however, shared in your experience. His eyes were bright and his smile always waiting to agree, or laugh, or ask you something.

"Can ya walk?" He giggled.

His freckled hands stayed, attentive, at your sides, as you laughed with him and tried.

Moving was doable, but only in little, shuffle-y, painful, half-steps. Your hamstrings were like guitar strings, pulled too tight from your ass to your knees, your quads as stiff as set concrete, and everything was burning hot to the touch. You worked up another sick sweat, just moving 20 steps.

The two friends shared a look as they slowed down for you. It was worse than they thought- and though they had confided in you earlier, telling you that this was normal, they weren't exactly sure anymore. They hadn't yet been pushed this hard at their own team practices (they actually won their games).

Tsukishima's chortle was mean, targeted, in nature.

"Am I gonna have to carry you?"

Your exhaustion blocked any of your usual retaliation. The suggestion was, unironically, very appealing. He had to ability to take some pain away and was 'offering.'

"Oh!" You groaned, palm on your hip after taking a few tiny steps to get to the wall, "Would you? Please?"

It caught him off guard for an imperceivable second.

He rolled his eyes, his fair skin inadequate cover for the blush you had inspired.

Yet, always the master of masking his emotions, he swung his body in the direction of the training room to evade suspicion, instead, "Hell no."

The multiuse training room was thankfully spared of any life, except for you three clowns. There wasn't even the athletic trainer, paid to stay later for hurt athletes. Most teams were finished up already and all the gear -the weights, the tires, the specialty equipment- was in its proper place.

You glanced to Tsukishima, who was second to make the connection that this was an even bigger waste of his time-- unable to take the sound of him picking on you again, you waved your hand at him, dismissive at his catty sigh.

"You can go home, Tsukki, I know you've got better things to do."

Yamaguchi smirked at the light pink that dusted the fair tips of his ears. He followed close behind you towards the mats, near the recovery gear.

'Reverse-psychology' almost always worked on him, outside of a match.

"Pff- whatever," He cleared his throat, shoving his hands even deeper into his pockets, "It's not a big deal or anything."

It was, in fact, a big deal.

You couldn't take even the softest of featherlight touches, or stretches, or damn near anything that was suggested by your teammates to try.

"You can't just give up," Yamaguchi said, softly, trying to encourage you to try the massage gun again.

"You're just being a crybaby--," Tsukishima shrugged, as if he didn't insult you, and took the thing in his hand, "If you can't do it, one of us should."

Without a second of hesitation, you swiped it from him. That thing was a weapon, with the wrong head attachment and in the hands of somebody with as little sympathy as him.

"Yamaguchi-!" You grew warm, handing it to the nicer of the two, "If- um, one of you has to do it for me. I want Yamaguchi to."

It was the most efficient tool for the job prescribed to you. Break up the lactic acid, promote healing, warm the muscle up for some stretching.

That list seemed so much simpler when pain was not part of the picture.

Having one them subject you to forced recovery was, regrettably, more doable than trying it on yourself. That didn't mean that it was easy.

Yamaguchi knelt atop your legs whilst you lay on your stomach, trying his best to ignore your pleas (as you had asked of him). He kept your leg still as he prodded the machine into your damaged tissue.

It was excruciating. Why did you play this sport?

"Stop-stopstopstop!!"

At last, your begging was met with a precious grain of sympathy. Yamaguchi looked nothing short of conflicted, unable to help without hurting you, but unwilling to let you leave without doing what needed to be done.

He gritted his teeth and looked back at you- to check if you were okay, because you weren't saying anything.

The rapid rise and fall of your ribcage was all he needed to see.

"I'm sorry- I-I can't--,"

He groaned, not knowing what to do, and set the massage gun down by your left leg.

"Oh- my- godddd." The blond boy groaned, horribly impatient in an instant.

The sound of the machine getting turned back on made you jump, but you got squished down before you could even think that there was a need to move faster.

Tsukishima sat backwards on top of you. He wasn't using his entire weight but it was enough to keep you immobile in the ways that mattered. Your muscles seized against your will at the primal realization that he was not going to be nearly as gentle or attentive.

Your shrieking become muffled in your sleeves, but it would've gone just as ignored if you hadn't taken that initiative.

"What are you doing?" Yamaguchi sighed, a bit mean and confused at how he just took over instead of talking about it first.

If he was doing something wrong, he at least wanted the chance to fix it. But that wouldn't fly in this company. Tsukishima was never the type to give people, even his best friend, that much faith.

"I wanna go home dude. I'm--,"

His pressure on the inside of your calf sent you into a full-on seize. He flew to keep your ankle to the ground with a pissed off groan and a heavy thump.

"-Getting- this done."

"You don't have to help!"

Yamaguchi was technically yelling at him, but it didn't sound like it. His voice was raised, a tiny bit louder than the massage gun, and that was about it. It was almost impossible for him to come across as angry. Maybe passive-aggressive, which was, admittedly, jarring enough.

He was met with a signature scoff but didn't back down from it. Yamaguchi had too many reasons not to shy away. If he was that bothered by staying longer, he could go home alone. The chance to hang out with you alone, not to mention the perfect opportunity to touch you, wasn't lost on either of them. Tsukishima knew about his feelings for you. Until now, it was never a topic that needed to be explicitly addressed.

Tsukishima threw a narrowed, cold look through his lashes to him.

That was oh-so-intentional, and a painful thing to process as he barks at you to stop whining so much. His hands are giant, wrapped all the way around your shins, weighing you further down so you can't kick.

You were almost getting used to it- how much it hurt- as you feel Yamaguchi settle next to you and place a reassuring hand on your back.

You're panting, hoarse and labored- you were going to thank him, but Tsukishima makes his way up to your hamstring and you flinch again with your face slammed back into your arms.

"Augh-! Dude!! Ha--Ah!"

Absolutely no remorse in his voice, "Tadashi, c'mere and hold her ankle. I can't do both."

They shared another charged glare behind your back, but Yamaguchi wasn't going to intentionally make things more difficult than they had to be. He wanted to go home too, and wanted you to feel better quicker- this was a necessary evil.

Part of your hoodie sleeve was soaking wet from where you were biting down, grimacing. You were slick with cold sweat, trembling, and could not wrap your head around how torturous this whole ordeal had become.

For a moment, just one tiny, fleeting moment, he took the machine off and you were able to gasp in a non-labored breath. He adjusted to sit on top of your butt (without asking if you were comfortable) and slipped a warm hand between your thighs to grasp your inner leg to keep you still. Yamaguchi's grip on your ankle felt after that- harder.

The pleasant sensation it sent down into your tummy became quickly interrupted by the worst of it.

"Mm-h-!!" You groaned into your clothes.

"Ohh- yeah, you're fucked," Tsukishima laughed in shock at how he could feel the tension, the spasms, under the skin once he placed that godforsaken thing back onto you.

You mostly blocked the rest of the experience out of your mind- it was nauseating, and long, and arduous. Tsukishima made no efforts to make the process any easier by asking you what you wanted, if you needed a break, or if you were okay.

It made the last of it that much sweeter. The training room was quiet, again, once the buzzing was gone.

"That should do it," He muttered, pushing the heel of his palm down the now compliant, though aching, muscle of your hamstring. It was practically mindless.

"Y-eah-," Yamaguchi rolled his eyes at the shameless display.

Tsukishima glanced at him. He cleared his throat and pinched you, just for good measure, then decided for you, "Yeah, that feels better."

You rolled your cloudy eyes just to yourself, unable to lift your head from your weak arms.

"Okay! Jeez! Get off of me."

Another ill-intentioned snicker was almost enough to make you look back. It, instead, only motivated you to tense up your shoulders.

"Did you forget that you have a second leg?"

Yamaguchi would've laughed with him, had he not been so pissed off that he was getting- for lack of a better word here- cucked.

Barely able to peel your chest up off of the ground, you huffed and pushed the stagnant tears from your face.

"You are not doing that again!"

It was another way of saying that you couldn't take it, which, in his twisted mind, was reason enough to smile. He had to adjust himself pretty plainly in front of his freckled, grumpy friend before getting off of you.

You rolled, heavy and slow, onto your back, and didn't spare him any looks. You spoke to the ceiling. "I'll do my own calf. Tadashi,"

His face was softer, attentive, at how you sighed his name. Every word afterward was a lot sweeter, lighter, than the ones that were meant for Tsukishima.

"You get my other hamstring. I can't reach it."

Now 'unemployed,' Tsukishima reclined against his bag, pushed his headphones up, and played on his phone.

You flipped back onto your tummy and pulled down on the hem of your shorts, for some bit of decency. All it did was make Yamaguchi's eyes wander. Tsukishima had already been stealing crystal clear glances.

Those practice shorts left little to the imagination, especially hiked up the way you liked to wear them for training. It did not go underappreciated in this group.

Yamaguchi tried not to stare- he really, really tried. His eyes were bouncing back and forth between where to adjust over you, and where he desperately wanted to cop a feel. It's just that you were turned around, with no way of knowing, and there was nothing too wrong with looking.

Neither of them were bold enough to bring up that your glutes -realistically- were the most worked muscle group that needed to be attended to.

Yamaguchi mirrored his hand placement to where Tsukishima had done it, earlier. He was not prepared at how intimate it felt at all, because his friend had given zero indication that it was such a big deal.

You flinched at the contact even though it was hundred times softer than you had been touched earlier. His palm was unsure, and varied in firmness as he tried to palm your thigh the 'right' way. You were grateful nobody -especially that blond idiot- could see how embarrassed you were, as you buried the side of your face harder into your clothes.

"I'm gonna try to be less gentle- so," He lost his train of thought, captivated in the sight of your softness filling the gaps of his long, tanned fingers, "Um... yeah."

Not-gentle was a good way to describe that massage gun on your stiff leg. But it wasn't a stabbing pain, like how forcefully and suddenly Tsukishima had started.

And yet, you couldn't help the reflex to bend at the knee, and almost nailed him with a powerful kick.

"A-ah! Sorry--," You couldn't quite get the apology out, between gritted teeth.

Since Tsukishima had been too busy peeking out of the corner of his eye to admire the space between your legs, the curve of your ass, and all the shaking, he was quick to grab that free ankle and pin it down.

They shared a mutually surprised expression behind you that, if anything, helped ease their nasty, competitive, and degrading attitudes.

Yamaguchi's face was very warm, his legs, his grip, had to be readjusted-- his fingers felt indescribably good in the midst of so much discomfort. He put more of his weight on you, having underestimated how much you might throw him off.

Neither of the two were saints, but if it were a competition, Yamaguchi at least tried to repress things.

He wanted to be seen as good, as nice, and sweet. Getting brother-zoned all the time sucked but at least it spoke to his positive qualities.

Tsukishima did not care all that much about looking like a good person. Being 'cool' was different, and just as performative, but still, different. He had less internal struggle when it came to checking you out behind your back; his only worry was getting caught, because it made him look interested. Being interested, to Tsukishima, was worse than being a 'nice guy.'

All that to say: He pushed your ankle a bit further to the outside, craning his neck to see just how much those safety shorts actually covered down there.

If he could get Yamaguchi to move his hand out of the way--

"You're doin' it wrong," He sighed, sounding flat- bored, even though he wasn't.

You spared Yamaguchi the responsibility of responding to him.

"You're- ahh- ridiculous, Kei. Fucking-- ridiculous."

His nose wrinkled at your assertion that he could possibly be wrong, "The fact that you can talk is evidence enough."

That made your face multiple degrees hotter, and kept you biting a rude reply into your shirt- it pissed your nicer friend off, on your behalf.

"Dude, shut up," Yamaguchi mumbled.

It was ironically something that sounded like it would come out of Tsukishima's mouth, in tone and phrase. He could've told either of you to shut up at any given moment, on any given day, and it wouldn't be a big deal. Coming from Yamaguchi, though--

The blond stiffened, his mouth curled into an absurd grin, but his eyes were fixed and brutal behind his glasses.

All the implications under their words, their jagged tones, were so plain and out in the open. To them. You remained disadvantaged, partially deaf (from the loud massage gun) and mostly blind (turned around), still preoccupied with your physical inability to stay on their conversational level or that emotional space.

To you, they were only trying to help, and the situation had not degraded so much.

You were busy thinking about how Tsukishima could not have been more wrong about Yamaguchi's 'technique.' The pressure had grown, making for a more intense experience than before, with all the new compensation.

An awful, bitter comeback was on the tip of Tsukishima's tongue.

"Woah!" A new voice, one you didn't quite recognize, was at the entrance to the training room, "What're you three still doing here? It's late!"

"Daichi!" Yamaguchi sighs, breathless, for a couple of different reasons.

You winced at his weird readjustment on top of you- and the terrible, sinking feeling that this was inappropriate and semi-public.

Was there no safe place for a bunch of underclassmen to hang out anymore? Since when did the seniors linger for this long? They usually were the some of first out the door, and the guys' team had been done for almost an hour, now.

His grip softens, flittering away, for a moment. A rush of strength finds his legs and he's safely hovering, instead of sitting, on you.

"Oh! Taking turns with the gun? Man-," Even his laugh is leader-like, all punctuated and deep, "Must be pretty bad, huh?"

When he clocks that their captain isn't there to scold, he keeps one palm safely on the mat, instead.

"Do you--," You push yourself up to your elbows again with a groan and a scrunched up face. It helps, to reiterate that this is not some kind of debauchery, "-Have any advice?"

Daichi was there to return some gear. He placed a bag on the table closest to the door, then hung up some keys. All that you could think was how responsible he looked.

He hummed aloud to himself, "Advice...?"

Yamaguchi slowly moved off of you, so as to not look suspicious, but his nervous demeanor always made him look a little bit guilty of something. You waved off his soft apology in favor of staring, curious, at the new presence.

You were able to roll over to your back and sit up, with marked effort- then stilled as their team captain joined your spot on the mats.

He took a second to look between all three of you, face impossible to read, then seemed to recognize you.

"You must be that rookie Yui was talking about," He doesn't realize how important that off-handed statement means to you, "It's nice to meet ya."

"You too," Your voice was ghostly soft, eyes wide, when he sat down to take you through some handy stretches.

His team jacket looks really worn in. His thighs are giant from years of playing. He knows what he's talking about. And your two idiot friends are silent, for once, so he must be super cool. You listen very carefully.

"So, if it's just soreness that you're dealing with, what you wanna do is--,"

"Man-," Tsukishima mutters, an incomprehensible 'What the fuck,' under his breath at those stupid puppy dog eyes you were giving their team captain. Great.

He threw a glance to Yamaguchi- his face was all screwed up, pissed off, too. They looked at each other with mutual, gloomy attitude.

Little did they understand that Daichi could've broken this up in a less civil way if he deemed them as any less credible in their actions.

It was their 'harmlessness' that kept them spared from a talking-to.

You were slower to understand that you were infatuated. As your long-time friends, they often read you quicker than you could understand your own emotions. It had been three minutes since the last time you blinked, and you didn't realize it, yet.

His stretches, and little tidbits of advice, rang familiar but more memorable than the second-year's recovery tips from the end of your practice.

"Thank you," You muttered, uncharacteristically quiet.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes so far back, so slow, that Daichi caught it.

"Of course! Happy to help."

You watched the incredible lines in his legs dance as he stood up and briefly wondered if he had ever suffered like this, before. Surely the answer was yes.

"Well-- It's great seeing you all take care of each other. Hang onto that!" Daichi kept one last, somewhat reminiscent, look on the three of you, and was on his way to the door.

"Oh-,"

You shivered, holding yourself as he turned around.

"Make sure to lock up when you're done!"

When he was gone, the door fully shut, you collapsed onto your back with a dreamy sigh. Yamaguchi was the first to stand up.

He was disappointed that you were so easy to impress, yes, but otherwise unfazed.

"You guys wanna go get something to eat?"

Tsukishima got to his feet, too, and had his bag slung at the ready-- usually not so food-motivated, but he was starving, at this point. The sun was low in the window. You nodded at the great idea.

Head still tilted to the closed door, you asked, "Does- uh, does he... have a girlfriend?"

Yamaguchi avoided your eyes, an easy task at his height, and took both of your hands to lift you to your feet. It was solely out of curiosity. He was so out of your league.

Tsukishima rattled off a blatant and well-done lie.

"Yeah. He's dating Michimiya- you didn't know that?"

It helped to cushion your feelings. You nodded, smiling at the way Yamaguchi kept you steady again with his hands in yours.

"Ohh, right. Right. That makes sense."

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco @megapteraurelia

my masterlist. more haikyuu

369 notes · View notes

powerfultenderness · 2 years ago

Text

Bed

Summary: König’s new neighbor finds out how comfortable his bed is. König falls quickly.

Pairing: König/F!Reader (civilian)

Rated: T+

A/N: Just some fluff.

Word count: 2947

[Neighbor König masterlist]

It was nice to have his own place. Having been in the military most of his life, König was used to base life. The familiarity of it all was a comfort, but there were some, well, comforts that were always missing. Like his bed. The beds on base were little more than stiff uncomfortable cots, a little too small for him, causing his feet to hang off the edge of the bed. But his bed at home? Large and soft and yet firm enough to hold his weight, with ample room for his height. The pillows were like solid clouds. And the vanilla scented candle on his nightstand would fill his room with its delicious aroma and lull him into soft dreams.

That’s where he was headed now, ready to eat the take out he was carrying, take a nice hot shower and climb into his bed. But as he rounded the stairs to get to his flat, he was met with a slight block on the stairs. A woman was struggling with a box, bracing it against her knee and grunting with every step she tried to take.

“Excuse me,” he started in German.

You jumped, and let out an undignified squeak, when someone started talking behind you. The surprise made you drop your box, thankfully it was already low to the step and didn’t drop on your foot or anything. Still you were sure you heard something break. “Shit!”

With a hand over your heart you turned and had to hold back another startled reaction. The man at the foot of the stairs was big, giant even, and was wearing…some sort of…hood? A mask? What the fuck? It took a second for you to realize he was carrying a take out bag, he must be trying to get past you. “S-sorry, you just startled me.”

He raised his hands, a gesture to show that he meant no harm. “No, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He replied, this time in English. “Do you need some help?”

You smiled politely at the man, “oh. No thank you! I got it!” You chuckled nervously, still a little out of breath from struggling with the box, while you braced your lower back with one hand.

He smiled, not that you could see it, and gestured to the stairs. “Ok. After you.”

Right. Shit, right. You were blocking him, the big guy probably didn’t want to just push past you on the stairs.

You chuckled nervously again and picked up the box, trying to keep your grunts quiet, and heaved it up one more step. You could feel his eyes on you, another step, two more steps, then the landing. Whew! You gently dropped the box and straightened out your back to look up at the rest of the stairs.

You sighed, the little flight you just made it up was the easy part, now the long part of the stairs. The faint chuckling you heard from the foot of the stairs didn’t help either.

“Miss, are you sure you don’t need any help?”

“I mean,” you started with a huff, not out of anger, just an attempt to calm your breathing. “I don’t need help, I can carry it! But, help would be very much appreciated, yes. Thank you.”

He nodded and smoothly moved up to the landing, keeping his movements deliberate. Something he learned to do long ago around civilians, especially around women that were smaller than him, so he didn’t scare them. You showed signs of being wary of him —a good thing as far as he is concerned, as he is a stranger—and took a step back as he neared you. Since his face is covered, he can’t offer a mollifying smile (though he feels himself doing so anyway), and instead simply nodded at you again before he picked up the box.

He chuckled, watching you struggle with the box had him expecting a heavy thing, but, “this isn’t heavy.”

“What!” You squeaked, hands on your hips, “it’s like, fifty pounds!”

Even with his face covered (why?), you can tell just by the way his eyes darted over to you that he is smirking. “Where to?”

“Oh, not far. I’m at 203.”

“Neighbor,” he nodded as he started up the stairs. “I live in 205.”

You turned to him with a kind smile and introduced yourself, “nice to meet you, neighbor!”

“König,” he replied, now at the top of the stairs, and shifted the box so he was holding it in one hand. He extended his right hand to you

“Now you’re just showing off,” you say with an amused smile and shake his hand before leading him to your new flat.

He was surprised when you opened the door without unlocking it first.

“You should lock your door,” he followed you in.

You rolled your eyes a little with a short laugh and spread your arms out in the literally empty flat. “What, you think someone is going to break in and steal my nothing?”

“No. There are other things to take besides your stuff.” He half muttered as he set the box down by the wall.

“Huh?”

He looked at you, with your head tilted slightly as you questioned him, and understood. You were one of those civilians. Innocent. He can’t bring himself to put a damper on this interaction, in the back of his mind he realizes that now he’ll have to keep an eye and ear out for his new neighbor.

“Do you need help bringing anything else up?”

You gave him a strained smile, nervous, if the sound of your voice was anything to go by, and shook your head. “No, no I couldn’t possibly take up more of your time.”

You reached out and touched his forearm, intending to remind him of his dinner that he was carrying, but only drawing your attention to his muscles. “Oh. Wow.” You mumbled under your breath, before realizing that you’re essentially feeling him up and quickly drew your hand back.

König blushed at the soft touch, and again at your mumbled admiration. Not for the first time in his life he was thankful for the mask that covered his face.

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat and focused, “this was the heaviest box! I thought it would be best to start with that one! So I got it, really. Thank you, though.”

You smiled at him again and König decided then that he liked seeing you smile. “The food can wait. I don’t mind helping.” He offered one more time, that seemed to be the pattern with you.

Honestly, why were you even saying no to this hunk of man? Sure, you couldn’t see his face, but the form fitting long sleeved shirt he wore did little to hide just how fit he was. So you hummed and hedge, “I really don’t want to be an imposition-”

“You won’t.”

You smiled again, not a kind polite one like before, but bright and happy. He definitely liked your smile. “Well, in that case, König, I’d love your help!”

His stomach flipped at your words and smile, and he felt himself blushing even harder. He knew why. It wasn’t often that cute civilian women smiled at him like that. It was nice to have the attention of a pretty woman, even if nothing more came of it, as he expected.

“Let me put this down,” he lifted the bag of food a bit and you nodded, “sure!”

Out in the hall he paused and waited for you to lock the door. You scoffed playfully and obliged him, “really, someone taking those broken plates off my hands would be a blessing.”

He smirked but didn’t humor you, he wasn’t going to encourage your carelessness; what if something happened while he wasn’t around?

With König’s help it didn’t take long to bring up the rest of the boxes. The man doubled up on boxes on both trips while you carried light bags and just opened doors for him.

As he set the rest of the boxes down in the living room, you were rummaging through one of the bags you carried up, until you pulled out a wallet. “Thank you so much, König, let me pay you for all your help.”

“No.” He shook his head and raised a hand to refuse your payment, “it was my pleasure.”

Pleasure? Damn, where was this guy when you were moving out too?

“König,” you draw out his name in a small pout. “How can I repay you, then?”

Once again a wave of excitement rushed through him. He couldn’t help the inappropriate thoughts that ran through his mind for a second, that influenced his answer. “Have dinner with me.”

Normally he wasn’t so forward with women, and never with civilian women. But you were nice, and didn’t seem to be scared of him, and besides, he saw you checking him out at least once!

You were a little surprised by the request but smiled nonetheless. “Dinner? Sure, when-”

“Now.”

“Now?” Well now you’re really surprised. “König, are you offering to share your dinner with me?”

He looked around the apartment, the only thing you had were a few boxes, and shrugged. “What else will you eat?”

Oh. He had a point. You’re sure if you dug around in one of your bags, you could find a forgotten energy bar somewhere, but you didn’t have any real food around. “Well, ok. That’s true. Are you sure I can’t pay you? I feel like the person roping others into helping them move is supposed to pay for dinner.”

“No.”

You shrugged, “well, alright then. Let’s go. Oh, unless you want to eat here? I can offer premium seating on the floor!”

He chuckled and moved towards the door, holding it open for you. He once again waited for you to lock the door before leading you to his flat.

205 was a different layout than yours. It was one of the bigger flats with two bedrooms, two baths, a spacious living room and open kitchen. His place was nicely furnished, one of the first things that caught your eye was the big leather sectional in the living room. It was one of those deep couches, which made sense, considering how tall he was.

The table and chairs that he motioned for you to sit at were also clearly chosen to accommodate his size. You practically had to climb into the chair, and could easily kick your feet while he grabbed the food and some plates.

He had been so efficient in helping you, that even with the short delay, the food was still warm. You thanked him again and started to dig in when he set a plate in front of you. It’s only after your first bite that you noticed he was eating by lifting his mask for every bite.

Oh. “I’m sorry.”

He hummed, confused by your sudden apology. “Why?”

You gestured to your face, “you probably take off your mask when you’re alone in your home.”

Warmth bloomed in his chest. You were concerned about him? Of course you were, you were nice. A pretty, nice girl who didn’t want to be an imposition on him, who worried about his comfort, who didn’t lock her door.

He shook his head, “don’t worry about that. It is not a problem.”

There was something intense about his stare as he answered you, so intense that you dropped the matter and quickly finished your meal. He matched your pace, finishing his meal just as you finished yours.

You opened your mouth, you were going to thank him again and bid him goodnight, he was sure, but he spoke first. “Want a beer?”

“Oh. Sure.”

You smiled at him again, causing his blood to thrum in his veins. He wanted to remember your smile for the next time he was on a mission. The other men would brag about their women, and he had no one to think of, but now your pretty smile would keep his mind company.

Once you had your beer, you glanced around the apartment, taking it in. He had nice taste, the furniture was high quality, and even the TV looked like it was on the expensive side. Whatever he did, he was doing well for himself. But your eyes kept getting drawn to the couch. Maybe because you were currently lacking furniture yourself, it just looked so comfortable.

“König,” you started, not looking directly at him, “can I sit on your-”

Face? Dick? Yes, whatever you wanted, “yes.” He answered as you finished your question, “-couch?”

Oh. He deflated and took a breath to calm down. Of course you weren’t asking him to fuck you right now.

You set your beer down and moved to the living room. “It just looks so comfy.” You explained as you sat down and pushed yourself back into the firm cushions. You chuckled to yourself as your feet hovered off the ground when you were seated all the way back. Yea, this couch was definitely meant for taller people.

He grabbed your beer and set it down on the coffee table in front of you, to which you flashed him with another brilliant smile. He grabbed the TV remote and turned it on, “movie?”

You looked at him as he sat down next to you, his knee gently bumping into yours. “Dinner and a movie? Careful, König, I might start thinking this is a date.”

He laughed, boisterously, nervously, but relieved that you laughed with him.

The movie was of no consequence, but he felt encouraged every time you giggled at one of his jokes. By the time he was done with his second beer, he wasn’t even paying attention to the movie, instead he was telling you stories about his missions, nothing classified of course, but the way you stared at him with wide eyes, shining in anticipation as if he were more interesting than the handsome man on the television fueled him. At one point he even rolled up his shirt to show you a nasty scar on his side.

You gasped, eyes wide and looked up at him a little flustered as you asked him if it had hurt too bad.

“Ah, it was nothing! I barely felt it!” He assured you and cleared his throat as he rolled his shirt back down.

“Wow! That’s crazy!” You exclaimed as you shifted in your seat too.

His eyes flickered down for a moment and he noticed the way your thighs squeezed together before you found a comfortable position. You were closer to him now, and when he draped his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your shoulder, you didn’t move or give any indication that you were uncomfortable. He grinned to himself, nervous adrenaline finding its way into his blood and he had to actively stop himself from bouncing his knee.

And that adrenaline faded as you nodded off to sleep next to him. Well, you had mentioned that you’d been driving all day, moving. So naturally as soon as you were comfortable you fell asleep.

He was only slightly disappointed, it was still a better night than he could have hoped for otherwise.

You woke to the sound of your phone buzzing. Your morning alarm. You sighed, you still had time before you really had to wake up, so you snuggled right back into bed. It was so soft and warm, but the temperature in the room was bordering cold, which made the warm and heavy blankets even more inviting. The subtle scent of peppermint and vanilla-

Wait!

You quickly sat up, eyes wide in confusion as you looked around a room you had never seen before. It took a moment for last night’s events to come back to you. Oh! This must be König’s room…but he was nowhere around.

You straightened out the bed, feeling slightly guilty about climbing into such a nice bed in your street clothes.

“König?”

“Good morning!” He called from the kitchen.

You followed his voice, glancing at the couch on the way to the kitchen and saw that there was a pillow and blanket folded neatly on one of the cushions.

“Did you sleep on the couch?” You asked once you were near the kitchen, stopping on the other side of the island counter. Like you, he was dressed in the same clothes as last night, mask and all, probably hadn’t wanted to wake you.

“Yes.”

“You should have just woke me up. Sorry I kicked you out of your room. Did you carry me to bed?”

“Yes. Breakfast?” He asked just as he flipped an egg.

You glanced away and fought down a blush. What you’d give to have him carry you to his room while you were awake!

“No, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I still have a lot of stuff to take care of, I should get started.”

“Oh.” He sounded so disappointed, and even his shoulders drooped a little.

You chuckled, “but thanks to you, I’m starting the day so refreshed!”

“Me?”

“Yea.” You nodded and smiled at him again, just like you did last night. “Your bed is so comfortable!”

“You like my bed?”

“Mmhmm!” You flashed him a devious smile this time, “maybe next time you can join me.”

The clatter of the spatula falling to the floor and him scrambling to grab it, echoed over your cute giggle. By the time he was standing up again, you were already by the door. “Bye, König!”

“G-goodbye!” He stuttered after you, already dreaming of what next time would entail.

#König x reader #konig x reader #no fancy format bc i'm on mobile #and König is just a side piece #no edits bc i'm on mobile #idk how yall who regularly post fics on mobile do it

5K notes · View notes

klausysworld · 11 months ago

Note

Here's an idea if you are taking any suggestion!

Niklaus has turned due to the full moon and his wolf wants to run about and the wolf comes into the house and has sex with Klaus' girl (with knotting and everything). Klaus transforms back in his human form, still knotted to her though, and cares for his girl who has fallen into her little space! With all the daddy-ness if possible! ❤️

Daddy’s Wolf

Klaus didn’t have to turn.

However his wolf was adamant he would turn on a full moon. Thankfully so did the rest of the wolves in New Orleans.

There was one little wolf in particular that Klaus’s wolf had taken a fancy to. She was an untriggered werewolf but that didn’t matter. She lived out in the bayou but in a sweet little cottage that Klaus had payed for on her behalf. He had wanted her closer to the quater but she wanted to stay in nature, her wolf needed the calmness of the forest and if that’s what she wanted that that’s what he’d give her. Besides it meant that she was out of the way and safe. But it also meant that he didn’t visit her as often as he would like.

That didn’t sit well with his wolf at all.

So when the full moon came, it made sure to push forward. Klaus eventually gave in and turned, decided there was no harm in releasing some tension for the night.

And with that he found himself racing through the woods, only the desire for her present in his mind.

Paws thudded against the leaves causing a soft rustle sound to drift amongst the breeze. His tongue hung from his mouth in a gentle pant as he made his way between trees. He was momentarily distracted as a deer caught his eyes and his train of thought was cut off. He hunted the animal down instead, leaping over bushes and skidding round logs. Klaus could feel the thrill of the chase, the fulfilment of his predatory instincts taking what they wanted.

However just as he caught up with his prey, his ears perked. His movements came to a stop and the deer sprinted off. He could hear muffled chatter in the distance and followed it until he found the familiar pathway. His tail wagged immediately and he trotted up to Y/n’s cottage. The TV was visible from her window and he smiled inside.

Eagerly he called for her, his claws scraped at her doorway and his body tried to push it open. Eventually she came and opened it up, she was dressed up in her little clothes making his tail wag harder.

“Daddy?” She mumbled quietly “is that you?” She asked, peeking through the gap. He yipped in response and forced his way inside. His back paw kicked the door shut and he tugged at her sleeve gently. Y/n followed his pull without resistance and went back to the sofa with him to watch her show. His wolf snuggled up with her, licking her cheek gently. Y/n nuzzled against his chest and smiled “Hi Klaus” she whispered, caressing his fur.

The wolf’s tail beat against the cushions as she played with his fur and looked up at him with those big sweet eyes. Y/n leant up and kissed his fluffy cheek softly with a giggle. He let out a playful growl and licked her face back.

Y/n’s nose scrunched up and she wiped his kiss away making the wolf huff and lick her again, spreading his scent across her skin.

Klaus briefly felt his mind go blank, the animal in him taking over as he began to lap at her skin. His eyes went nearly black as the wolf took over and dragged its canines down her throat. Y/n let out a gasp and tried to push his face away but he wouldn’t budge. It was only when his teeth pieced her skin and she let out a whimper that Klaus’s vision came back and he realised that he’d bitten her.

When she noticed his ears fall flat and a soft whine to leave him she told him it was okay.

Sometimes his wolf got a little possessive but he never meant any harm. She pet his head gently and kissed his front legs and chest lightly. Klaus let out a happy trill and stood up, circling her a few time before laying down around her little body.

Y/n laid against him for a while, her eyes closed and she just listened to the TV in the background. Klaus’s chest moved up and down gently as he breathed, his eyes stayed on her pretty face.

Klaus’s wolf couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and joy as his girl snuggled against him. Without realising it, his wolf would take over every now and then, just nuzzling her hair and tightening his hold before Klaus could realise that he’d lost control. The only issue with it was that Klaus had much more control over his desires and his wolf didn’t.

Which was why when Klaus came to, he realised how his wolf was grinding against his sweet Y/n. Klaus quickly forced himself to stop and clenched his jaw as his hips threatened to buck against his will.

Y/n was deep into her little space and enjoying her daddy's affection and touches, she loved his wolfy very much and always wanted to snuggle and play. A few times in the past his wolf would lick her sweet pussy and she would suckle on his cock but he had never fully fucked her in this form. He teased that one day he would and little Y/n would giggle and start to get needy and whiny until her daddy would ravish her with promises of a rough and wild night in the future.

So when she felt his wolf rubbing against her, she arched into the touch. A whine left her when he stopped moving and her head went back to look at him.

"Daddy" She mewled, her lips all pouty making his wolf puff his chest out. His fur stood on edge and his muzzle pressed to the crook of her neck, sniffing her skin before letting his tongue out to taste it.

Before he could help it, his paws where digging into her sides and his wolf was borderline humping his sweet girl. Y/n giggled and crawled out from under him making a suppressed growl rumble in his chest.

Y/n tutted and pushed him onto his back making his tail wag and his head cock to the side. She climbed on top of him, snuggling into his chest and twisting his fur between her fingers.

Klaus considered just turning back and ravishing her right their on the couch but his wolf wouldn't let him. Klaus felt his consciousness fading in and out as his wolf bucked his hips up and Y/n squealed.

"Bad Daddy" She whispered as she brought her hand down to stroke his overly obvious erection. She smiled and rest her head on his chest whilst watching his cock leak in her hand.

Klaus swallowed down a howl as she shimmied around so she could sink down on his cock.

"Mmm Daddy" She mumbled as she pushed her hips back slowly, letting her pussy stretch around his thickness and accommodate his length. "So big" She uttered, her lashes fluttering and eyes locking with his.

Klaus's jaw hung open in a pant as he watched her push down on his chest and roll her hips. She moaned sweetly at the feel of him filling her so perfectly. Her body slide over his at a gradual pace, her hands gripping his fur while her ass bounced against his pelvis.

A series of embarrassing whines left Klaus's wolf as he felt her speed up, her breathing getting heavier and her pussy clenching all the time.

"Mmm love Daddy's wolfy" She moaned, tugging on his hairs and bouncing as fast as she could before stopping completely.

It made Klaus groan and throw his head back. His cock ached and throbbed inside her. He could feel her pussy pulsing so he didn't understand why she stopped. But he wasn't in much of a position to complain.

Y/n snuggled back against him, panting softly against his neck and closing her eyes in an attempt to conserve her energy. Little Y/n got tired especially fast, despite her poor pussy desperate for her to keep bouncing.

"I'm sorry Daddy" She whispered and Klaus's ears went back again. He didn't want her to be sorry. He licked the side of her face lovingly and wrapped his arms around her body. His paws folded over each other to fix his hold on her so that his hips may thrust up into her effectively.

She lifted her head back so that she could kiss his neck and behind his ear as he did all the work. Sounds tumbled from his mouth as his wolf took over again and bucked up roughly. Each movement was hard and unforgiving as her entire body jolted up and her legs spread wide over his lap.

He growled when he felt his cock swelling even more than usual. His wolf knew what it needed to do but he had to get her properly.

Y/n cried out when his cock slid out of her and he got up, stepping over her and circling her sore body until she pulled herself to the arm of the couch so that he could get behind her. Her teeth sunk down against her bottom lip when he mounted her, his paws grabbing onto her hips and his body towering over hers. Her eyes closed and she imagined what he would say to her if he were able to before he sheathed himself inside her.

Her body was pushed forward and against the sofa as he got a steady grip on her and his hips started. His wolf was ecstatic about his positioning as he panted and growled out his appreciation for her soft, tight body.

"Daddy" She moaned softly and he felt his cock swell. Her whines were muffled as she bit down on her lip. Her hands clung to the fabric of the chair whilst her back arched to feel him hit that spot inside her just right. "Please" She whimpered and he groaned, deeply. "Please breed me Daddy" Y/n begged and Klaus's wolf went haywire.

Her pussy was pounded relentlessly and his knot began to form fully. The base of his cock swelled, his animalistic needs urging him to shove it inside her. He needed her, he needed to fill her with his seed, his babies.

Both their bodies shook with ecstasy when they felt him lock inside her. Her hands clung to the couch, mouth panting and sweat dripping. She whined when she tried to move but he wouldn't or couldn't pull out.

He licked over her shoulder gently, soothing her senses until she was lost to sleep. Klaus wasn't expecting his wolf to give in and turn back whilst still inside her but he was glad to be in his original form.

Gentle kisses were pressed to the back of her neck whilst her tried and failed to get his cock out of her. He hadn't thought that his knot would stay in human form but it had. It wasn't much of an issue as he moved them both upstairs and managed to turn her around so she was facing him whilst he gently wiped her clean with the babywipes in his drawer.

She whined when she woke to his touch and he gently tried to ease her back to sleep.

"Daddy" She whimpered and he kissed her temple softly.

"Yes little one, I'm here." He whispered and she nuzzled into his chest. "You were such a good girl" He praised while stroking her hair. "Daddy and his wolf are so proud of you, I'm gonna take such good care of you"

"Me and our babies?" She muttered with a yawn and he groaned softly.

"Yes babygirl. You and all our babies."

830 notes · View notes

youngwonhui · 1 month ago

Text

✦ picture of a perfect rose | ch. 2

*•. member: Seokmin x afab readers

*•. genre: arranged marriage, royalty au, strangers to lovers, slowburn, slight mystery

*•. wc: 14k

*•. warnings: Seokmin might lose his temper again, alcohol consumption, smut, MDNI, unprotected sex (don’t do this folks)

*•. crossposted on AO3

*•. masterlist

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3

“Do you think we can eat now?”

“Does this have vegetable in it?”

“Can i have two bowls?”

“Is this hot?”

The questions are flying to you like moths to a flame. You can only suppress your laughter, with two hands stirring the big pot of soup. Surrounding you, groups of children taking in the sight of delicious warm soup.

They couldn’t care regardless who’s stirring the pot.

“Hush you all, let the Queen finish her soup.” You shook your head lightly at the volunteer who step up. Signaling that you are quite alright with the little audiences.

Today you’re visiting a small community just in the outskirts of town and helping on cooking for their soup kitchen. You were told that since it’s sunday, there’s many kids flocking the area. It doesn’t help that next door is a big playground. You can see the kids began to disperse. Running straight there past the people lining up with meal ticket in hand.

“You didn’t have to, they must be starving from playing.” You told the kind volunteer. Now arranging pieces of chicken freshly roasted into the buffet tray.

“No, they’re just curious. Pretty sure next time they’ll asked you for candies your majesty.”

“Oh no, do the foundation needs more sweets supply? Are there growing populations of kids around this neighborhood? We can take account the high dema—”

“Your majesty please, we have enough,” the kind volunteer stops your relentless ramble. “We’re always fully stocked thanks to the fair distribution law for the needed.” Upon your confused face, they try to elaborate. “The late Queen implemented said law. She’ll be missed greatly.”

The words surprise you, learning another knowledge of the late Queen’s legacy. The thought clenches your heart a little. You and majority of the kingdom has been intentionally shunning her of only her flaw. Never bothered paying attention to any good that she’s done. Your mind began to wander, will your time be mirroring her? Will your choice brought you demise and forced you to ended up alone in a place you barely recognize?

“Your majesty.”

Your gaze return to the volunteer beside you, seeing them bowing so deep sent you to confusion. But not long until you realize that the greeting wasn’t directed to you. The soup has your attention and thought sucked deep into a seemingly unending circle. Completely missing out the massive shift of crowds around you. Caused by the man in your thought.

“Hello there, masterchef.”

“Seokmin?” You tried to mask your surprise, but what surfaced is just a pure elated smile just from a mere sight of Seokmin.

Seokmin exchange a few handshakes and waves to the newly formed crowd around him. He then swiftly moved to your side, leaning close to take a peek of the massive pot you have been stirring. Seokmin then smiles at you, completely rendering you speechless.

Thankfully the volunteer manager who you’ve met earlier kindly explaining the agenda today. Including the soup that has been stealing your attention. A shy smile made its way to your face, Seokmin himself couldn’t hide his own.

He eyed down your somewhat casual attire, complemented by the apron that has been sewed by the local youth community. His smile grew bigger when he spots a pair of flats as your choice of footwear.

“This smells so good. Have you ever cooked this at home?” Seokmin’s mention of home caught you off guard but you’re quick to overcame it.

“Uh, i don’t think so? I certainly never cooked this big of a portion before.” Around you, there’s a resounding laughter upon your words.

At first you had not gotten used to it. Being the center of attention of many people, and those same people reacting to your every words and moves. For now, your own focus are halved by the man beside you.

“Anyway, i’m just quickly dropping by since i was only a few blocks away. I must rush to a meeting at the cabinet office.” Seokmin then turn to the volunteer manager, exchanging words with each other. Leaving you fumbling with a slight surprise and disappointment.

As Seokmin quickly busied by bidding goodbye to anyone in charge, you immediately realize the time. You asked the volunteer earlier for a to-go box and then proceed to pack up a decent set of meal. After spotting Seungkwan somewhere by the corner, you silently handed it to him.

“Can you give this to Seokmin? Just in case he got caught up and forgotten to eat. Or it’s for you if-if he doesn’t want any. That’s cool too.”

Seungkwan has a knowing smile in his face but you’re still oblivious of it. Clouded by nerves. Seungkwan assures you of his duty and you left to return to your soup.

Seokmin bid you a quick goodbye before Wonwoo ushered him back to the car. Mass of people following him close as he make way to the waiting car. Once inside, Seokmin is oblivious of the smile grazing his face. As bright as the first sunlight in May.

“Here, your wife is concern of your nutrition.” Seungkwan placed a warm package on to Seokmin’s lap. A teasing smirk on his face.

Stunned, Seokmin stare at the brown paper bag he’s been given. Steady hand unwrapping it midst the shaky moving car. His focus undivided to finishing the task. Not finding how Wonwoo and Seungkwan exchange a knowing smile. Inside the wrapping, he found a generous portion of the meal he saw earlier.

“Did Y/n gave it to you?” Seokmin hasn’t lift his head, staring intently at the slight steam coming off of his packed lunch.

“Mmhm, she told me i could have it if you don’t want any.” Seungkwan’s reaching hand are quickly pushed away by Seokmin’s possessive ones.

“Y/n says it’s mine first.”

Seokmin could almost hear Wonwoo and Seungkwan rolling their eyes. But a whispers of smile on their faces.

A meal could have never brought Seokmin this kind of happiness, his thought kept returning to you. After he apologize on that dusty staircase Seokmin’s eyes kept finding its way to you. Seemingly washed in a new light. He revel the sight he sees every morning when you’re so dedicated to cook a breakfast not because you have to, but because you just love doing it. And Seokmin is certainly in no place to stopped you from doing it.

Not when he adores you shuffling around the bright kitchen in your choice of sleeping attire. Sometimes it’s a matching silk pyjama, but sometimes it’s an old baggy T-shirt that he assumes has been in your possession since high school.

“If you start drooling to the food, i’m telling Y/n.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Wonwoo had to resigned to his seat. The argument happening in front of him has becoming a sight he’s accustomed to.

“What do you think the difference between apricot and cherry blossom is?” You mindlessly wonder, picking at the warm egg tart you just made.

You’re met with no answer other than the clicking of keyboard from Yeri across the counter.

It’s a rare day where you’re free of any royal duties, and Yeri has kept you company throughout the day while arranging future plans of visitation schedule and lots of meeting. She has kindly let you ramble as you tries to busied yourself with the tricky recipe you’re trying today.

Yet eventually you succeed. After mixing up two kinds of recipe and ended up with mountains of little cups of treats.

Deciding that Yeri couldn’t even entertain you in your free day, you decided to turn to another one with a free day. Although that other person has been holed in his studies with his ‘friend’ discussing something of an urgent matter. Some free day they have.

Carrying a tray of freshly baked golden egg tarts, you made your way to the studies. As you’re nearing the familiar somewhat formidable door, you could see how it’s slightly ajar. Much more familiar voices you began to recognize when you stood before it.

“Seokmin, Jeonghan and i both know what she’s capable of. It’s not out of her character to do so.”

“What Chan is trying to say it that, there’s a possibility. But we still have to find concrete evidence. We can’t still accuse someone out of hypothesis.”

“Are you accusing her of corruption? The very same one she’s trying to fight all her life?”

“Seokmin we’re trying to say, that no one truly knows her. Especially in her last years of reign. Not even yourself.”

“Chan, please.”

“GET OUT!”

You heard a quickening shuffles, until you realize your current position might be a tad suspicious. If it not for the hand full of tray, you might have took a hiding behind another corner. But alas, the door opened to Chan with Wonwoo and Jeonghan in tow. All with the same frown in their face.

“Y/n.” Wonwoo whispers before he glance to Seokmin and then back to you silently. Chan on the other hand, true to his nature, quick to his suspicion tendencies. Meanwhile Jeonghan doesn’t hesitate to gives you a judging eyes.

“Were you eavesdropping? What did you hear?” Chan’s pointing hand to you are quickly hushed away by Wonwoo.

Although looking in sour mood, Wonwoo manage to mutter quick apology before dragging Chan away to the fresh air. Far from the same fiery state Seokmin is in. Jeonghan only following suit, he kept his eyes on you and it somewhat almost reducing your confidence.

You almost couldn’t recognize Seokmin though. Standing with his back turned to you, his tense shoulder became the sole reminder of that night. You’re quick to step in and and close the door behind you. Trying to put another barrier between Seokmin and his friends just in case one of them are hell bent to argue some more.

Upon the sound of the door, Seokmin turn his eyes, but quickly averted your gaze. A feeling of shame and worry crept into his body. Once again you had to see him in this shameful state. Too worked up and couldn’t manage to control his own emotion.

“Y/n, you should get out before i say something that will hurt you again.”

“I believe you wouldn’t do the same mistake twice.”

Your voice was hushed, and it sounds clear in Seokmin’s ear. You had chosen to stay inside and taking steps to approach him instead. After setting down the tray you carries. Seokmin slowly turns to you, head hung low and the same distraught and frown in his face.

You tries to match his eyes, feeling that he doesn’t need words for now. Although it took a while but eventually Seokmnin stopped avoiding your gaze. One calming breath after another, Seokmin’s own shaking hands unfurl from his fist.

“I’m sorry, you have to see that.”

“You and Chan argue often. I’m sure both of you would make-up soon.” Seokmin’s chuckle brought a smile to your face.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that, too.” Seokmin paused, you try to encourage him to talk. Hoping that Seokmin will trusts you enough to open up. “I shouldn’t have been angry like that but,” the sentence ended on Seokmin’s exasperated sigh.

“Was it about your mother?”

Your heart broke when Seokmin nodded, his eyes fixed to you before fluttering close. You couldn’t fight the hesitation to take his hand. Wanting to give him all the comfort in the world. And Seokmin seemingly welcoming all the touch you give. Latching on to your hold as his gaze now fixed to one of the painting.

A flower garden. Green and somewhat colorful with its surrounding flower shrubbery and fallen petals of what it looks like a cherry blossom leading to the palace. The painting looks as if it’s a picture taken in amidst of a flower petal hurricane.

“Knowing how she absolutely hate living in this palace, she always found consolation in painting. She cares about art and always made sure to pay visits to the royal art exhibition. Even though she burst out once when the poor staff was found not properly changing the theme banner for that one exhibition. And then, more and more people keep calling her the mad queen. She was never that.”

“That’s what’s important. For you to know that she isn’t, Seokmin.”

“Yeah, but it’s not enough. Not when i realize it was too late and then she was gone. When she gets called like that, even by our closest aid, i begin to feel distance towards her. Granted i was a stupid teenager. She was always so kind and gentle with me. But after dad passed and she begin her reign, all the spotlight and constant coverage of the media is just putting more distance between me and her. All because i didn’t want nothing to do with a kooky queen.”

“Oh Seokmin,” instinctively you pull him to a hug. Seokmin puts no resistance, sharply inhaling your scent as he pulls you closer. Your hands roam around Seokmin’s back in reassurance.

Time passed and Seokmin reluctantly pulls away, but his hand still wrapped around yours and softly tugging you to follow him. Staring at his turned back never felt more joyous. He led you to the lit fireplace. Deep into the corners of his studies.

Taking a seat on the sofa, Seokmin is still standing staring at the slowly raging fire until you tugged at your intertwined hand lightly. Seokmin absentmindedly took his seat beside you.

“When the news of the accident came, i was so far away from her. At the back yard playing golf. She was on her way back from a visit on the countryside. One that i was supposed to attend too.” You kept your hand on his, giving occasional squeeze to encourage Seokmin. “I kept thinking that i somewhat play a hand in her loneliness. Even though i knew how much she hate it here, i play dumb and ignored her even when we stay under one roof. I could’ve made the effort to visit her, just to say hi.”

“I know she would be happy just knowing that you remembered her as kind and gentle.” Your soft reply are accompanied by the soft crackling noise from the fire. A smile to let Seokmin knows that it’s okay.

Seokmin swore to be better. To care more, and not keeping a blind eye to the wrongdoings that happened under his reign. Continuing his mother’s legacy and trying to better her name. Even though he realized that it’s an effort out of regret, Seokmin quite literally has no other way to make up to his mother.

“She was a far more better leader than my father ever was. I regret that i never got to say it to her.”

“You’re kind enough to be just like her. The rest can fall into place as you learn through time.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. I might only be here through an inopportune circumstances, but you still treat me at least like a human being.” You confess through a tight smile. Surprise colouring Seokmin’s face. “I never admit it to my parents but i was miserable at school. I only got there through my mom’s old job here, but they were so happy for me. I could’ve reject the offer, but you know those rejection means to me. A mere commoner who think they’re too good for the prestigious royal academy.”

Seokmin sighed at the knowledge. He knew education at royal academy is somewhat a reward to whoever has plead their service to the palace. But he also acknowledge the class difference that happened there and how some people are just plain shitty sometimes.

“You’re far better than half of the people in that ‘royal’ academy.” Seokmin’s hushed reply sending a butterfly of excitement in your stomach. Emphasizing his slight disgust at the word ‘royal’. You squeeze his hand in assurance. You don’t have the confidence to look at Seokmin like this.

And if later when you fall asleep on your own bed and illuminated by the tablet by your side, when Seokmin manage to pull the blanket to cover you properly— Seokmin turn his way back to the connecting door quickly.

He doesn’t have the confidence to not tuck the hair that fallen to your face. The lingering warmth on his hand from a touch of your skin is proving his heart wants too much than he could handle.

“Are you sure about this?”

You only smile to yourself at Yeri’s constant question. Already know the answer and simply letting Yeri pestering you for her own satisfaction.

“I mean, yes everything is well prepared and food choices are good as always. But still, this new venue are gonna raise the expectation up to the roof tomorrow.”

You can practically hear Yeri shaking across the coffee table. You still has your eyes to the document on your hand.

“We’ve been planning this for a long time. I went through a lengthy process to make sure the garden are fitting enough for the spring festival. You said it yourself that it’s a ‘casual’ festivities.” You replied calmly, finally putting down the paper to face Yeri.

“I know. It’s just i’m worry those snobby nobles are gonna talk about you just because you suggested a new thing for this event. I mean, yeah it’s casual but some of these people treat this brunch parties like a ballroom gala. So everything has to be all gold draped ballroom and chandelier. They want to enjoy the rich they didn’t deserve.”

“So tacky.” You huffed, gesturing at the window to Yeri. In her slight annoyance, then looking to the window to see the bright greeneries. “It’s so beautiful outside, i even talk to three sources for the weather prediction. Seokmin’s mother and the Queens before her made these occasion so that the people in the court felt homely and welcomed. I intend to upheld it, not making it just an excuse to drink champagne and eat cake.”

“God knows they done enough of it to last a lifetime.”

You throw a look of understanding to Yeri’s word, glad that your newfound friend eventually agrees to you. Not that there’s anything she can do to stop your plan though, all the preparation was done for tomorrow. The usually empty field of grass surrounded by the cherry blossom trees are fully decorated and all the flower shrubs carefully trimmed.

Returning to the document in hand, you allow yourself to feel half relieved. Not that reading itinerary and budgeting calms you down, but moving on to another task felt like a completion to your work. All that’s left is saving some energy to put on a straight face when you’re eventually forced to socialize tomorrow. And you can’t sneak halfway like you did on the last occasion. You can feel your neck already tightened to the thought of tomorrow.

Later that night, you try to relax yourself to sleep. Laying sideways on your bed to focus on the movie you put on, treating it as a white noise to lulls you to sleep. After half an hour your eyelids already grew heavy, but the sound of the door closing let you became alert once more.

Through the opened connecting door, you can see that Seokmin has return. Quite early than usual.

You don’t mean to be nosy but the gap on the door is letting you see Seokmin going about around his room. Unbuttoning his shirt as he lightly ruffles his hair with a huff. The usual neatly styled hair has come undone, following the rest of his shirt button while Seokmin disappear to his bathroom. The sound of showers that follows only making you more alert.

Just close the door, you should be sleeping.

At least that’s what your conscience are saying. Fortunately you remain glued to your bed. Enjoying the light muffle sound of the shower, and the occasional hums of him singing.

Time surely flew because suddenly you realize that Seokmin finished with his shower and he shuffles out from the bathroom. Drying his damp hair and clad in a simple white T-shirt. You can see it so clearly, because Seokmin caught your staring eyes.

“Hey, you’re still awake.” Seokmin stood in the doorframe, looking devastatingly normal yet it made your heart skip a beat. “Well, usually you’re always asleep when i’m back. Leaving whatever is playing in your tablet on.”

“You came home early. So we’re both out of our routine.” You sat up on your bed, feeling a bit embarrassed that Seokmin essentially saw you passed out watching movie like a child.

“I guess we did.” Seokmin was silent for a moment. His hand, rested on the doorknob is having an internal debate whether he should close it or leave it as is. Half of himself also hoping that you tell him what to do.

“Are you going to sleep?” It took awhile until Seokmin shake his head as your question caught him off guard. “Do you want to watch this with me?”

Once again, your thought could barely catch up with your words. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s your own desire. To have Seokmin close company as it soothe the creeping anxiety of tomorrow’s event.

Seokmin kept his silence. He does when he still stood in the doorframe, and remain until he stood by the end of your bed. It continues as he dropped the damp towel on the floor and he sit on the empty space of the bed.

You can smell the freshness of Seokmin’s aftershave as he sat beside you. It almost drove you insane.

“What are we watching?” Seokmin eventually spoke.

“Uhh, um. Emma. But we can watch something else if you want.” Your offer is met with another shake of his head, Seokmin’s curls almost looks bouncing under the dim light.

“No need, I love Jane Austen.”

Seokmin smile to you before pressing the play button on the screen. You could almost melt into your pillow as Emma continues her matchmaking venture.

It’s almost impossible for you to focus on the movie. As expected. It gets especially hard when you notice that Seokmin continues bowing his head as time passed. You then realize that Seokmin is fighting the same exhaustion and sleepiness.

“Seokmin, you can just sleep you know?”

Your question are met with mumbles. Seokmin barely has his eyes opened. You held back a laugh when couldn’t held his head upright, lolling around with another sets of mumble.

It eventually hits you that Seokmin is already fast asleep. Quickly pausing the movie, you try to not disturb him further.

Then, you’re thrown to another discord within yourself. Another desire to feed your heart. Now almost unrecognizable as it slowly morphed into need. For Seokmin.

The breathe you held eventually hitched altogether when Seokmin’s lolling head decidedly stops on your shoulder. It all happened unceremoniously yet felt like a slow motion in your head.

Suddenly that empty taunt of begging Seokmin to love you tightened your heartstring. Because you finally realize how you have been lying the whole time. That those taunt is not as empty as you have thought. It’s very much alive as it sleeps under your skin. Only now awaken in one late night in early spring.

You pushed the thoughts away and force yourself to sleep.

Seokmin smiles in his sleep. The strange thing is, much of his friend remind him enough now he can feel it somewhat subconsciously. He also talks in his sleep, but having recorded it once is enough for his curiosity.

And now, as his alarm clock gone off strangely faint, Seokmin can feel himself slowly awake with a smile. It remain until Seokmin eyes flutters open and the sight felt unfamiliar enough but not scares him.

How could he when he’s welcomed to your sleeping face. Close to his own while your arms around him is a special kind of warmth Seokmin has never dreamt of. Calmly, Seokmin tries to even out his breath. Not trying to wake you up, he needs to turn off his alarm in his own room. God knows you need all the sleep you can have for today.

He didn’t know how he ended up asleep being spooned by you, but its been one of the most restful sleep he has experienced of late.

Praying that he didn’t wake you up, Seokmin took almost half an hour trying to slid off your arms without disturbing you too much. The sun begin to stream into the room through the curtain when Seokmin stood free beside your sleeping figure. He decided to close the curtain to let you sleep some more.

Seokmin painted the picture of your serene sleeping figure in his mind before he decidedly part with it. His day waiting. What solace he found is to meet you later in the event you have so tiredly arrange.

The moment Seokmin disappears to his own room though, you let go of the breath you’ve been holding. Although Seokmin’s effort all for nil, you appreciate the little you can peek, of Seokmin’s smiling face and his little tiptoe to his room.

The little action fortunately gave you enough strength to start your day. Not that the event last night didn’t give you enough. All the butterflies still fluttering in your stomach almost making you flails around on your bed like a high school kid.

After a while, you manage to calm yourself and get out of bed. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that you have a big day ahead. You push aside the thoughts of last night and focus on the tasks at hand.

“Of course she wouldn’t dare to came here with that.”

“Surely i wouldn’t let any of these people in.”

“The food though, it’s heavenly.”

“I mean yeah, the garden is pretty as well.”

If you could roll your eyes with every off-handed remarks you’ve been hearing, your eyeballs would’ve run laps around the whole garden. You try to focus on the little laughters of children playing near the blooming flowers. There’s a faint sound of music flowing, blending well with the hushed noise of people talking amongst themselves.

Seokmin has offered a few words to open the festivities after you, and then kindly disperse to talk amongst the few he could calls close friends. You recognize a few.

Yeri and a few seemingly kind ministers and nobles have been congratulating you on how the event have been arranged so beautifully. It’s enough to calm your anxious thoughts. Fearing that some unexpected little snaggle would ruin the long planned event.

You were in deep conversation with who appears to be Jeonghan’s mother. Who had claimed she went to the same school as Seokmin’s mother and as you found out later, your father. She’s kind and doesn’t make you feel as though you’re an outsider, trying to avert your attention from the gossiping snobs.

“Now, where is Seokmin? I sure hope Jeonghan or someone other isn’t keeping him up from you.” Jeonghan mother has a quick look towards you before she continues. “Now darling, you know you have someone to trust in the palace. If you ever feel lonely or just needing someone to have tea, you can count on me. Jeonghan might be insufferable or unexpected at times, but he’s just doing his best on his job as well as trying to protect Seokmin.”

They all do. You aren’t dense enough to not notice the slight wall they have been putting. The closest ones that Seokmin kept around him, Wonwoo, Chan, or even Jeonghan. There are times when their eyes were of eagles to you. Wary, and ready to pounce if you make a slight notion of threat towards Seokmin.

“Thank you ma’am.”

“Oh don’t ma’am me. You’re Seokmin’s wife, i’m practically your in laws. Oh excuse me honey, i have to save my husband from his third slice of your glorious cake.” Jeonghan’s mother hurriedly pat your arm. “This was all beautiful your majesty. What a great idea to have the festivities out here. Cheers.”

The sudden lost of companion sent a tense smile to your face. Continuous greetings and various degree of smile has your face feeling almost numb. But it doesn’t beat the tense muscles on your shoulder and back. One would’ve thought you were dropped on a pen full of hyenas, not a brunch festivities.

Decidedly, you make way to the mimosas stand. Passing another group of young ladies of the court. Probably fresh graduate from the same academy you went to. You’ve noticed they have took camp near either the mimosa stand or champagne table.

“Have you seen the king? He’s not even going near his wife. Maybe that rumor were true, they were only married cause she trapped him with pregnancy. But she doesn’t lo-”

“Talking about rumour, have you heard that he’s on a brink to launch a witch-hunt? The king is trying to pin down every one of his generals and ministers who had a hand on corruption. After that it could be the nobles.”

“Oh crap then we couldn’t really go anywhere this summer. My father would only let me to go the beach resort.”

“Pity, we were planning on the chalet though.”

“He truly ruins everything, ever since he got married to-”

Out of the blue, a hand grip your arm and brought you flush to a body. The same hand snaked around your waist and successfully turning your attention away from the gossiping bunch. Your surprised face is quickly welcomed to Seokmin’s smile. With his hair down and the curls showing through, you’ve never thought seeing Seokmin this relaxed around these people.

“Sorry if i startle you.” Seokmin’s voice was soft, yet your eyes traveled downwards to his touch around your waist. “Oh, pardon-”

“It’s okay Seokmin, there are many eyes looking.” You closely whisper the words, keeping the smile to not let Seokmin fumble anything.

So Seokmin kept his hold around still, as you finding a sliver of solace from his presence. The mimosa you just picked up doesn’t posses its original charm.

“Those girls are talking smack. It’s best to ignore them.” Seokmin wasn’t a royalty yesterday. He can hear and notice all the eyes and attention towards him and every single movement he made. Also it made him excel in ventriloquism. It amuses you slightly.

“Oh i’m used to to see them at the academy. I’m not surprised the slightest. What appears more surprising is the way you wear your hair.” Seokmin instinctively touches his hair, then laughs lightly. “You look good. Don’t worry.”

“I figure this is an outdoor brunch, a formal jacket should be enough and might as well give my hair a break.”

“You couldn’t tell Wonwoo that?” Seokmin turn to his bodyguard, laughs when he sees the same Wonwoo he sees everyday. The alertness tight in his feature as he’s clad in the same suit and tie. Not quite fitting with the blooming pastels and flowers around him.

“I’ll make sure he wears pink tie next time. Remind me of that. By the way I haven’t had chance to say this earlier but congratulations, this was fun and such a nice changes than years before. At least out here there’s less people doing dodgy things.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think about it like that. I just think about the cherry blossoms and what a waste it could go if we didn’t do anything to commemorate it. Spring brunch seems fitting.”

Seokmin gaze down to your side profile. Your eyes set far to the hustle and bustle of people talking to each others and enjoying their time. A slight taut in your temple worries him a little but also sent a tingle of endearment down to his guts. He took a deep breath instead, keeping his hold on you steady. Preparing to greet one of the old generals he recognize, already making his way with a plate of cake in hand.

Eventually it was past the high noon and one by one people are filing out of the garden. You had inform Yeri that the staffs could begin cleaning up, and making sure that they maintain the shape of the place like it was before.

You took refuge on one shady corner under a tree. Seokmin is nearby, talking to someone you could recognize as one of the firefighter that has been invited to the palace a few weeks ago. Mingyu. Your mind provided.

So they are truly friend.

Some of the staffs flitting around are kind enough to leave you alone or just shortly expressing their congratulations. While preparing for this event, you can’t help to grown close among them. Trying to plan and choreograph every movements and manners to handle a bunch of high profile nobles.

You also learned so much from them throughout. How to manage a party in the court, and knowing little details regarding the palace and it’s notion of tradition. How you somewhat breaking it, yet keeping it to the better. One of the young server once shyly said to you as you helped to fold the napkin in preparation.

The exhaustion slowly crept into your body, you feel like you can sleep through the day after this. For now you enjoy the breeze and the rain of cherry blossom petals that eventually covered the grass. Closing your eyes as you enjoy the slight scent of sun and soon to be summer.

“Congratulation again, Y/n.” Seokmin appears next to you, he walks closer after signaling Wonwoo to keep his guard down.

“Thanks, i’m glad some people enjoyed it.”

Seokmin raised his brows, he stood close, wanting to find the same shade as yours. Trying to see what you see.

“I for one enjoyed it. Although i’d prefer your waffle than what’s being served. Even though some of these people don’t really deserve your cooking.” You laughed at Seokmin’s seriousness regarding your culinary expertise.

“I think i prefer only cooking at our residence rather than catering to hundreds of people.”

Seokmin mutters a low agreement. His eyes then drop to the ground where his feet plays with some of the fallen petals. Even on the dirt, the delicate thing remain looking so innocent and somewhat untouched from outside forces.

“Can i ask though? Why here? Why this very place? An odd corner by the palace yard while there’s many other space you can choose.” You hummed to Seokmin’s curiosity. Paired with his eyes to you.

“Well, like i said i adore the cherry blossom and although this is a somewhat odd choice i figure it might be familiar to you.”

Seokmin instantly frown upon your reasoning. Confusion turns his body closer to you, a smidge of worries rests on his brown eyes. It almost makes you guilty but his own confusion surprised you.

“I have to say, i have no idea of this very corner of the garden until you brought it up for the meeting a few weeks ago.”

By this point, trying to explain to Seokmin felt like an unnecessary task. So you bit your lips in contemplation, before looking around the currently sparse ground. There’s only a few staffs finishing the cleanup and a few people still chatting as they walking away.

“I can show you, i think it’ll be better.”

Seokmin stares at your extended palm, but now he immediately took it unlike the last time by the tower. With careful steps, you lead through the sparse trees and climbing slightly up the little hilly terrain.

His growing curiosity are currently sidetracked with Seokmin’s focus are now on to his connected hand to yours. It felt warmer than the sunlight he’s been basking the whole day. The lingering excitement also flutters his heart familiarly.

Reaching the peak of the hill, and past the cherry blossom tree, you stopped and immediately turned Seokmin’s body to face the view.

At first Seokmin looks ahead, briefly frown in his confusion. Still not understanding your action. But then he slowly focus beyond the soft pink top of the trees and the few visible bushes of flowers are vast green ground that rolls seamlessly into the palace. It looks beautiful, and now just like you said, felt familiar to his heart.

Seokmin’s mother was a skillful painter. What he didn’t manage to realize was how his mother often paints her surroundings.

The very view bear the most resemblance to the painting his mother did, now hung in his own study. The same painting that greets him when Seokmin enters the room. Accompany his late nights hunching over stacks of documents.

A sense of nostalgia hits him. The very longing of a time and place he didn’t quite experience, but now he missed dearly. Seokmin imagines his mother hauling her own easel and big canvas, along with her bag of paints and brushes into this very spot and beginning her sketch.

Seokmin would never know, because he never paid attention to his mother.

“Now do you see it?” Your expectant words steals Seokmin’s attention, back to the time at hand.

Seokmin turns his head instantly to you, smiling so excitedly now that he is clearly in on your idea. Instantly his heartbeat run faster. The culmination of his outburst has come to this. Your smiling face on an afternoon as you look normally worn but somehow the way your hair went a little out of its place is endearing on its own way.

Seokmin likes it either way.

This early morning when it splayed as a result of your sleep. Before the party where you had successfully styled it neatly to not distract you during the event. Heck he realizes he loves it when you’re working out your thought in the kitchen, trying recipes you found of just coming back to classics just to distract your mind.

Seokmin loves it all.

You took a stumbling step back when Seokmin lunged forward, but a familiar hand steadies you and a kiss is placed on your lips. Startled, it took you awhile until your eyelids fluttered close and reply the kiss. Applying the same showcase of power and delicateness with the way Seokmin’s other hand has cupped your cheek.

As Seokmin slowly pulls away, you can’t help the gasp that escaped your just-kissed lips. Seokmin smiles and dive in for a peck for good measure.

Your hand slowly raise to touch your own lips. A part of amazement tickle the notion that Seokmin’s kiss are merely an illusion. But the warm timbre of his laugh are proving enough that this is real.

“You surprised me completely that day in the library. You continues to do so, watching over me like i’m someone special and yet you makes me remembers that i am just me. Normal. Not in a bad way, but you make me remembers all the good little things i used to take for granted. You give me confidence to feel sad and sometimes so powerful, yet the worst is you’re making me want you. Not in a way that is logically possible for me to be. It droves me mad, that every little glance i took of you are never enough. It makes me want you close, illogically close that it gives me idea to cuff us together which is insane. You’re making me insane Y/n.”

Seokmin paused as he chuckles. As if he didn’t just burst your heart into a million pieces of confetti from happiness. “Of all the things and all the knowledge stored inside that old dingy library, you were the best thing i came to know and love.”

The sunshine above and falling flowers below feels more fitting as a witness compared to your wedding day. Seokmin confession could bring you to tears but the sheer disbelief in your mind are pumping enough adrenaline to keep you aware. Of how Seokmin’s touch feels against your skin, like it’s tattooed. Oh how his breath fanned to your face, warmer than the sun.

“Y/n please say something. You’re driving me crazy.”

This time, you took Seokmin off guard. Thankfully he’s fit enough to capture your lunging figure as you kiss him as a reply. Seokmin momentarily grin widely, before replying to your kiss. Cradling your face in his hand, Seokmin keeps his lips moving along yours in sync and harmony.

It almost feel embarrassing the way your heart leaps and bounds from Seokmin’s kiss. That one you share on your wedding day felt like a drab copy of something quite simply very precious. Now, on top of a hill where people minding their work could very much peer into, you’re kissing Seokmin with the same intensity that has been brewing since the day you challenge the same King to love you.

Seokmin doesn’t fail to keep feeding you the side of him that stunted your heartbeat ever so often. Even his kisses almost rendering you into a puddle of mess. Only Seokmin’s touch keeping you afloat.

Pulling away, you buried your fingers on his tuft of hair to keep him still in your reach. Seokmin breaks out into a grin over your display of possessiveness. He rested his forehead to yours and closed his eyes, letting the moment sink in and his heartbeat slow down. Because if you continues more with the way you kiss him, Seokmin doesn’t have the confidence to stop himself from acting out of his greed right there where almost anyone important can see.

“My dear King. You know quite well i still love you.”

You both know for a fact that Seungkwan and Yeri are purposefully clearing your schedule for the day. No meetings, no budget planning, and no documents to go over for the rest afternoon.

It left the residence became reasonably empty.

A few weeks ago, it would drove you mad. Sending you to take walks around the palace. Although it became the reason how you discovered places you see in the paintings surrounding you.

“I can’t believe i didn’t know the places my mother has painted.”

Seokmin rests against the desk in his study. His words tickle your ears as he rests his head on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry, i thought you knew that.”

The two of you decided to return to the study and then gaze some more to the painting of the garden you had spend the whole day in.

“Don’t be sorry, i’m just a bad son. That’s factual.”

You release yourself from Seokmin’s embrace. Turning to face a dumbfounded Seokmin—the frown on your face made him do so.

“No. You. Are. Not.”

That made Seokmin instantly laugh. Like you didn’t just scold him.

“I’m serious Seokmin, you cannot keep blaming yourself for everything. Starting with this.”

Seokmin’s eyes traces to your face. His laughter quickly dies down when he realizes the seriousness in your words. Seokmin caught your idle hand and pulls you closer—your body flush against his.

“I’ll do my best.” Seokmin paused, resting his hand on your back. “I will do so if you stay by my side. We’re together now.”

“Seokmin, we’ve been together for awhile you know.”

“That— well that is true.” Seokmin replied between his laughter. “So, do you found any other places from my mother’s painting?”

“Hmm maybe. I saw so may painting in this palace. I wouldn't know your mother's every painting.”

“That's easy. If you look closer, each of my mother's painting have this special signature.”

Seokmin took your hand and lead you closer to the painting. He pointed to one of the corner and surely enough, almost obscured in the greens are little writing in cursive saying ‘To. DK’

“DK? Who is that?” At your curious gaze Seokmin simply grin, a sense of pride latched in it. One you rarely seen nowadays.

“That’s me, it’s a short for Dokyeom. Mom gave me that nickname when i was little. She only calls me that in private, i don’t think even my dad knows. So it feels special. Like our own secret.”

Seokmin likes how it sounds, as you repeated the name on your lips. He couldn't hide his growing grin as you follow the same.

“Now it's not so secret anymore then.”

“You’re special too, aren't you?”

When you broke into a bashful laughter, Seokmin grins wider. A childlike image that you seldom associated with him, but with simple smile and some trust, Seokmin shown you another side of him for you to love.

The residence has never been emptier, with only the two of you in it. But for tonight, sleeping in each other embrace after breathlessly kissing one another felt suffice to render the residence full enough.

The long car ride is not new for Seokmin. Cramped in machine powered metals and his sole company is the low hum of said machine. But now he has you by his side. Curiously peering outside into the pouring rain.

“Your majesty, it’ll be wise to think about alternatives if the storm isn't clearing up.” Seokmin and Wonwoo exchange looks through the rear view mirror.

You and Seokmin are making the travel back to the palace after a visit to a community hospital in the rural area. Unfortunately rain pours along the way and it does not seem to let up as the road you traveled getting more and more hard to drive with the low visibility.

Seokmin glance at you, still glued to the view outside and letting Seokmin make the decision. The soft squeeze you give his hand assuring Seokmin that you trust him and he doesn't need to worry about you.

Eventually Seokmin nodded and Wonwoo is quick to inform the following cars to make a turn in the nearest exit.

“We're stopping by the nearest estate until the storm passed.” Seokmin informs you calmly. His hand however, holding on to yours tight as if it's his own guidelines. You smile to assure him that it's fine.

You both were quick to be welcomed by the staffs after getting off the car. Escorted with bows and every form of congratulatory words. You almost felt overwhelmed if not for Seokmin’s warm reply to each of the welcoming staffs.

“Care to tell me whose estate is this?” You joked, currently making way inside the parlour. Seokmin gave you a small smile and pulling you sit close.

“Mine.”

“Of course.”

To no one's surprise, the old and somewhat humble estate is cared and managed by the late Queen and ever since her reign it has been rendered empty.

Only Seokmin often visits as an escape the stifling life of the palace.

It certainly explain the same lived in feeling you get from the residence. Although being a part of the palace, Seokmin manage to decorate and not make the space feels untouched.

Now he has you to share this with.

Seokmin lead you to his room. Then lending you the clothes he kept as a change. He notices the tight uncomfortable bodice you often wear to the events. Deciding that an old comfy T-shirt would suffice for waiting out the storm. And seeing the time, it could be all night.

Seokmin are quickly gone and changed into a shirt and pair of shorts. An old cardigan he pulls out of the bottom of his closet to finished his look. You saw Seokmin out of his formal attire often. But this kind of look, worn with his natural curls down and the same relaxed looks he's been having nowadays are a treat as you discover another side of him to burn in your memory.

You’re searching for Seokmin as you walk out of the empty room. Changed into the clothes Seokmin gave you. You had foregoes any pants he gave because it’s all too big for you. Decided to keep the shorts you’ve been wearing under the dress.

Following the strange shout and sounds of excitement that bounced off of the wall, you found Seokmin and a few bunch of his other bodyguards hunched over the coffee table in the parlour.

“Wonwoo you need to help me here. I’m about to be destroyed.” Seokmin cries lightly.

“No, you don’t deserve my help. Yet.” Wonwoo was as curt as ever. Although a smirk growing on his lips.

The hunched over figures are focused on the board game in hand. A smile crept to your face as you see the relaxed manner they’re having, not on guard, and treating Seokmin as if he’s just another guy. It felt fitting because Seokmin spent most of his time with them. Especially Wonwoo, now sitting with his tie loosened up as he look at Seokmin sideways. The king is asking help to fight off the monsters in his territory but only met with rejection.

The other bodyguards resort to avoided Seokmin’s look as he plead rescue.

You decided to left them all to explore the estate. Greeted by the few and kind staffs who has kept the estate up and well taken care of. Some share stories of how they have been here since the late Queen’s pregnancy and some saw Seokmin grew up inches each summer he visits.

You were shown to most places and they kindly explained every story behind them. And didn’t forgot to lament the fact that they can’t show you around the garden. It has been kept beautifully by the joint effort of the old gardener and the late queen Herself.

“I only hope none of these violent wind and rain gonna wreck the garden. If it stays through the night, then i simply have to see it in the morning.” You’re met with the noise of passionate agreement before some dispersed to get the room and kitchen ready for dinner. Already in faith that the thunderous rain will last the night.

When you offered to help for dinner, you’re met with vehement refusal. Telling you to enjoy the free time you get. So you wander off to the found library.

You feel awfully cozy as you found a reading nook and covered yourself with the crocheted blanket in the colours resembling Van Gogh starry night. The book you found is an old illustration book from the mid 17th century. You can feel Seokmin’s mother affinity with painting as half of the shelves are filled with books about art.

Not forget mentioning the few paintings you’ve seen along the hallway. You begin to wonder if any had the secret signature directed to Dokyeom. The thought grew a smile in your face. Even though upon quick inspection you have not seen any.

The thunder and soft pattering of rain against the big glass window overlooking the nook sends a wave of calmness through your body. Although coming here was literally unplanned, you thanked the bad weather for giving you and Seokmin a chance to slow down and enjoy the impromptu ‘vacation’.

You were in the middle of admiring the old copy of Don Quixote when a thudding sound of footsteps found you. Then come a grinning figure of Seokmin.

“There you are! I’ve been searching all over the place.” Seokmin saunters over to you. Currently hunched over said book.

“I’m disappointed you didn’t found me faster. The night has fallen and you barely found me.” You feigned hurt and Seokmin pulls a scandalous gasp. You catch the slight pink tinge on his cheeks.

“Pardon my tardiness, Wonwoo and the others has beaten my ass on the game. On top of that they bust out the alcohol stash.” Stumbling steps taken as Seokmin sets his eyes to you.

“I see. And exactly how much of this stash have you consumed?” An amused glint in your eyes, observing the flush on his skin as the proximity lessen.

Seokmin only grin, then he lunges forward and kissed you. An action out of impulse. Seokmin alcohol-powered nerve has been holding on to thin threads as he focused on your lips. Slowly moving in unison, Seokmin can feel all the sighs of content from you. Stumbling on his own legs, Seokmin follows your lead as you—in return push him backwards. Mostly chasing his lips for more.

Until Seokmin back finally meeting some sort of surface—table he assume, Seokmin is quick when he flip the two of you. Now having you pinned between his body and the table. You pulled back, then realizing how you have landed on this position.

How despite your sobriety, Seokmin managed to shown his strength and you ended up cornered and compromised. Although you would love it if it happened like this. Being pinned by Seokmin, while he has his thigh between your legs.

Your heart couldn’t run even faster as a shudder went down your spine. Excitement tingling your nerves.

Seokmin only pulls you closer, resting his forehead on yours with a smile. His eyes has turn for the dark. The sharp edges underlying his feature sets its focus on you. Seokmin’s hold are always soft and gentle, the same ones you associated every time he looks at you. But right now, his touch burns and such desperation flow from his eyes and the fingers that digs into your clothed flesh.

In bated breath, as if waiting for your approval, Seokmin dove in a flash and hungrily captures you in a breathless kiss. A yelp from you only feeds to Seokmin’s greed. Fire of hunger Seokmin doesn’t realize has buried under his skin.

Now consuming his whole as you quietly mewl when Seokmin only deepened the kiss. Licking your lips hungrily, then catching yours in a sweet whimpers.

“Yo, Ms. Winter said dinner is- oh crap.”

In good reflexes, you try to hide yourself into Seokmin’s soft cardigan. But to no avail since the man in front of you won’t budge. Kept himself between your legs and hand rested on your bare skin. The intruder—Wonwoo, can be heard scrambling. Shoes tapping furiously against the floor in search for direction and eventually echoes away after Seokmin gave the other a long look of saying to leave the two of you alone.

A beat passed and you can feel Seokmin lessening the gap once again. Now his lips latched onto the column of your neck. Delayed with processing the situation, you relish the feeling yet still voicing the question in your head.

“Seokmin,” he replies your call of slight distress with a hum. “Wonwoo saw us!” You still can’t mask the urgency, but Seokmin’s touch remained growing hot on your skin.

Pulling away, Seokmin merely smile before taking your lips once more. Only leaving milimetres to voice his thought.

“He sees us all the time.”

“Seokmin!”

As much as you tried to avoid Wonwoo and the embarrassment after the encounter, you were quite famished and filing into the dinner table behind Seokmin only earning you a giggle from the slightly drunk Seokmin.

Intoxication has turn his confidence through the roof.

“Ms. Winter, i can always count on you to make such delicious meal. Especially in a weather like this.”

Nods of approval filled the room. At the head of the long table, Seokmin hums and exclaims of satisfaction made you rigid on your seat. Especially when you sat across of Wonwoo.

Who seemingly in the same situation as you.

Well not that he’s holding on to Seokmin’s hand under the table.

“The King and Queen as well as their entourage will always be welcomed with our best food. Please do enjoy the rest of the night. The storm does not sound like it will let up soon.”

Immediately after that, there’s a thundering sound in the sky. But the conversation continues regardless. It felt weird at first. Bunch of Seokmin’s personal details in such relaxed stance and talking around as if they’re old colleague catching up after work.

Eventually it brought a smile to your face, seeing the intimacy of their relationship firsthand. That Seokmin has many people who will protect him not because it’s only their job, but they also sees him as a friend. You can see the sentiment mirrored in Seokmin smiles too.

“Are you well? Is the food not good?”

“No, no i’m just full Seokmin. This is actually too good. You haven’t paid attention to me, i’m on my second bowl of soup.”

Seokmin proudly smile, but also intrigued by your word.

“Why? Do you want my full undivided attention?” Seokmin grinned, before fully leaning closer to you. In hope to put some smile to your face.

“I’ve had your undivided attention before.” You begin, raising your brows at the growing mischievousness in Seokmin’s eyes. “I’d rather be far away from it.” Your grin only invites more of Seokmin’s competitive side.

“Oh really? I didn’t see you complaining about it earlier.”

There’s a choked up noise stealing both of your attention. In unison, you and Seokmin turns to the man across from you. Covering his mouth to mask his expression, but his eyes is almost scolding. Sharp look to each of you before returning to his food and blatantly avoiding his eyes from yours.

While holding back both laughter and a little embarrassment, you straightened up and return your attention elsewhere. Seokmin cleared his throat before doing the same.

While listening in to the lively discussion on the game before, your eyes fell to the corner of the room. Where a moderate size of painting hung amongst the tall cabinets of memorabilia.

The painting are frames in simple type of woods with no embellishment. Heck, the painting itself looks no more than ordinary. Looking like a shrub of garden roses but awash in darker light all over. Rendering the colours to look more dramatic and shroud in darkness. Except for one stalk of rose. It’s bright, but almost hidden amongst the shadow. It wasn’t much of orange but not pink either. Almost like the soft pink petals are highlighted with a tinge of apricot.

Among the shrub of ruby red roses, stood the one bright rose.

You begin to wonder if Seokmin’s mother is the painter.

Most of Seokmin’s guards are either patrolling or turning in to get ready for their shift. So you decided to drag a lightly intoxicated Seokmin back to your sleeping quarters.

Before he decided to round up everyone to have another go at a game.

Despite the remaining awkwardness between you and Wonwoo, the stoic man thanked you before exhaling a particularly long sigh.

You only smile in reply.

Seokmin waste no time to plop down the bed. Closing his eyes before humming out of content. You chuckled before taking the time change and clean up.

By the time you return to bed, Seokmin must have sobered up as he sit on the bed. Leaning by the headboard. The empty look he given you only making you laugh some more.

“Y/n why am i suddenly so tired?”

This time you did more than a giggle. Nudging your husband as you join him by his side.

“The whole afternoon, you’ve been drinking, playing games, bothering me in the library, and then by the evening, you’ve been doing some more of that. Shenanigans.” Seokmin cringed to himself, a flash of regret sparks his partially sobered conscience. “Me and Wonwoo had to stop you and the others to start a relay race around the hallway.”

“Oh no, poor Ms. Winter and the others. I must’ve disturbed their rest.”

Seokmin trails as he buried his face into his palm in effort to hide at least half of his embarrassment.

You would have console him, but Seokmin simply looks too cute right now. So you let him wallow a little until Seokmin assures himself that this it will all be alright.

“You’re lucky Seungkwan isn’t here to scold you himself.”

Seokmin glares at you playfully.

“Okay, enough about me. Let’s rewind a bit, when did i bother you in the library?”

“Seokmin, you know exactly when.” You almost deadpanned. Yet Seokmin instead have a smile blooming in his face.

“I truly don’t. Do remind me, was it before or after dinner?” The shit eating grin in Seokmin face fully replaces the doom and gloom a few moments ago.

“Well i was cozy browsing books and reading under this such a pretty crocheted blanket until you sauntered in.” Nervously, you bit your lower lip.

Recalling the afternoon, you can help the smile on your face. The look Seokmin is giving you is not helping the slightest.

“I don’t recall you complaining about being ‘bothered’ though? If i remember, you were so eager to moan my na— oompgh!”

You simply have to shut him up. Climbing up to nestled yourself on top of Seokmin’s thighs and pull him to a kiss with much force. One that renders Seokmin breathless.

Ever since that day, the kiss on top of the hill, Seokmin always relish your kisses. How you seem to done so out of excitement. Including now, with both of your hands cupping Seokmin’s face as if its a lost jewel.

Even the slightest of your touch has a new habit of making Seokmin heart swell.

Seokmin pulls away first, leaving you hanging—longing. Swallowing down his initial thoughts, Seokmin lets you rest your forehead against his. A hint of smile on your lips as you catch a breath. Feeling like you’ve been the one who run laps around the hallway instead.

“I don’t know how to say this,” Seokmin murmurs, “but you drove me absolutely insane, yet so happy at the same time. How are you doing that?”

Biting your lips to hold back a smile, you softly grazes Seokmin cheeks. Hoping he can hear your thought instead of you pouring on ramble of how he makes you feel the same.

Despite your initial doubt for Seokmin, the whirlwind of life that’s coming at you felt endurable. With him by your side. Understanding him lets you fell deeper for Seokmin.

Much deeper than when you eventually realizes the kindness in his action, gentleness in his voice, and strength in his words.

This time you kiss him again, softer at first. Pulling Seokmin closer as you circle your arms to find some sort of leverage while Seokmin begins to chases your lips hungrily. His lips hover for a moment. Breathless.

“Can i?”

With the background of the thundering rain, you nodded quickly. Letting Seokmin pulls every clothing article as swift as his hands allowed. The pulls of your bare skin against his hands is just like magnets.

Noticing the slight shivers on your shoulder, Seokmin easily flips the two of you over. Stripping himself just as quick before taking off his clothes altogether. All strewn in abandon on top of the velvet rug.

Diving quick, Seokmin kisses your bare skin. Toying with it while he maps way around the column of your neck. And with each step, your sigh of pleasure increase in volume. It feeds straight to Seokmin’s hunger.

Cradling your face Seokmin gaze down to your slightly glazed look. Lost in his kisses and touch.

With lips barely apart, Seokmin hovers. Warm heated breath fanning into your face in the same temperature.

“Please tell me if i’m worthy. To be with you like this.”

There’s a certain strain in Seokmin’s voice but it went unheard to your ears. A pleasurable matters clouded your whole senses. It went more askew upon Seokmin’s question.

“I choose to love you. I’m sure you held a special place in my heart more than other thing. Making you being here, right now at this moment is a happiness beyond comprehension.”

Seokmin spent a beat to look at the glimmer in your eyes. A kindness and compassion swirling into your aloof nature and inherent strength. Qualities that went unnoticed by yourself. But visible to Seokmin’s eyes. Each time embedded into his mind like a tattoo.

After a soft caress from his thumb, Seokmin then slowly dive down to capture your lips once more.

What starts with innocent exchanges of passion slowly turns to a heated exchange of needing each other’s touch. A space none of you venture yet together. Only came close earlier until Wonwoo came sauntering in.

Now Seokmin lets his touches roam free. All the expanse of your skin. Left burning and sparked in chills altogether. Seokmin couldn’t hide the smirk growing on his lips as your moan grew louder. Eyes closed and drowning in bliss above the soft bedding. You raked your hand over Seokmin broad and bare back before settling to bury your fingers into Seokmin’s tresses. Hitched up breath in your throat.

“Don’t hold yourself back Y/n. I want to hear you.”

Seokmin waste no time, nimble fingers traveled to your anticipating core. He revel into your shuddering moan above the pattering sound of the rain.

“Fuck, Seokmin-”

Said fingers does wonder. More than you had ever imagines. Buried deep and finding various ways to incite more pleasure to course through your vein.

It’s hard to imagine you in this sort of position a few months ago. Doubting every decision you made while being lured deeper to Seokmin’s charms. His smile used to be scarce, even at the residence. But now you have him fingering you like he’s on a mission.

And by the shiver on your spine and the tight turn deep in your navel, Seokmin looked like he’s acing his mission.

“You’re this wet just from a few kisses honey. Imagine when i fuck you later.”

With one hand, Seokmin steadies his hold onto your waist. His other one continuously exploring your center and carefully inciting mewls and choked up noises of his name from your lips. A light grazes on your clit heightened your pleasure even more. It doesn’t help when Seokmin latches his lips to the valley of your breasts. Teasing chuckle escapes his lips in between ministration.

Hair splayed out and your bliss out face against the tangled up sheets, Seokmin drinks in the sight and the noises from your lips. A sudden urge to give you everything you need. Abandoning his own need just to have you warm and all sated out.

Content.

A sudden emptiness greets you. Seokmin wet fingers took a hold of your chin and brought your lips to his. A jarring chasteness after he’s just fingering you to oblivion. You have a feeling he’s leaving you hanging on purpose.

“Seokmin,” you whispers. Rather weakly as his lips hovers above you.

“Yes, darling.”

“Fuck me. Give me everything, i’m on pills.”

Within the dimmed light of the room, you can see a light flickered in Seokmin’s eyes. An immediate glint upon your words of confirmation. Unleashing an innate desire that’s been brewing right under Seokmin’s nose on these past months. Leaving him greedier for your every touch.

“Oh- god.”

Shuddering breath left your lips. Seokmin slowly lining up the tip of his cock into your glistening core. The mere grazes alone sent a cry out of your lips. Stealing glances at the reddening shaft as it disappear slowly into your welcoming warmth

Bunching up the sheets on your palm, Seokmin continues his thrust. Proving harder the moment he felt your heat enveloping his cock like a custom made glove. He adjusts his position so that he’s leaning on one elbow. Making him closer to you. As his other one pulling your leg up, gripping tight to the underside of your knee. The new position renders the pleasure tenfold.

Almost embarrassing you at how shaking you are just from having Seokmin’s cock buried deep.

“Breathe Y/n, you okay honey?”

“W-wait, i need a moment.”

Seokmin nuzzles his nose into your neck, you can feel him nodding lightly. Even above the overwhelming sensation of pleasure. There’s a light whispers of sweet nothings. Seokmin placed fluttering kisses on every expanse of skin he can found.

It soothe’s the initial overload over your frazzled nerves. Leaving now, only the pleasure knotting deeper into your guts. Leaving you needing to have more than just being stuffed full of Seokmin’s cock.

“M-move Seokmin, ah-”

The groan from above followed almost immediately. He wouldn’t admit it, but waiting for you is truly testing his patience and self-restraint. After the initial thrust, Seokmin continues in repeat. Drinking in the sight of you. Mouth agape and head thrown back. Delicious moan after another racing in volume with the rain outside.

Seokmin digs his grip tighter to you. As if it could anchor the feelings in his head. Swirling dangerously close with the raw pleasure you’re giving him. As if it could anchor him down to earth. Not exactly when you’re constantly squeezing his cock with every thrust. Taking him deeper and closer to his orgasm.

A hand rake through his back. The sliver of sting woke Seokmin up, only to dissipate further into pleasure. Low growl he huffs into the valley of your breasts.

You can feel it, Seokmin no longer chase the feeling in abandon. It’s a precise move in angle he found. The one that resulting in the tremble in your legs. Now propped up on Seokmin’s arms. With every thrust, you know Seokmin enjoys this incidental torture. You gasping in thin breath of plea, yet Seokmin maintain his pace.

As if you couldn’t be more pleasured, Seokmin grip your thigh and lifting it higher at an angle.The cry of content escaped your lips. Caring no more to keep any decency. Not that you’ve been doing so in the past hour. A smirk blooms in Seokmin’s face, framed by his hair stuck close to his skin from sweat.

“Are you close darling?” Seokmin dares to whispers into your neck. Only to met with your jumbled words spilling under your furrowed brows. “I can feel you so tight around me— fuck.”

It spurs Seokmin movements even more. Like a crazed man, with enough stamina to put you in a more chokehold, Seokmin managed to hit every spots that makes your entire body shakes in pleasure. With drastic difference, his lips and sweet words planted all along the expanse of your skin. Mixing in a glistening remain of sweat as you’re nearing your release.

“O- oh god Seokmin please.”

Seokmin felt twisted. How your begging only pumping more pleasure through his vein. He felt almost impossible to stop. Wanting to give you everything and lets you float on this high as long as he could. Basking in the warmth and pleasure of your sweet moan, and now, the softest plea, Seokmin felt even crazier than he felt these past months.

“Tell me, Y/n darling. Tell me, what you need.”

“Fuck, please. Please stuff me full.”

With a low groan, Seokmin buried his face to your neck. His teeth toying with your collarbone, giving you more heightened sensation to guide you to your orgasm. One hand wrapped around the splayed hair of yours and the other securing one leg up as Seokmin continues his heavy thrust. Wasting no more seconds, your breath simply hitched as you let yourself go. Crescendo of pleasure bursting through your body in myriad of ways. Even as you completely lost yourself through the orgasm, somehow you could feel Seokmin smiling into your skin. His thrust never lost its heaviness, but became more sloppy as Seokmin chases his own finish. Glistening skin against one another while the obscene sound of the squelch accompany his every moves. It took him no longer.

With little to no announcement, as you still catching your own breath, warmth fills you in spurts. Seokmin stuttering breath and loud whimpers follow through before he completely lets go of his strength. Managed to fall not directly on to you but somehow resting his head on your arms. Little kisses he plants on your shoulder.

“I love you, my Queen.”

Your heart could burst altogether. Caring not how his words could only be just a moments passed. Hearing it from Seokmin as he looks like that? You were never God’s strongest soldier.

“I know, Seokmin. I do too.”

Breathless smile grazes Seokmin’s feature. The pattering rain still well harmonizing itself with thunders.

“You look awfully cozy in my clothes.” Seokmin mutters, face down into the pillows. The naked expanse of his back artfully covered by the duvet.

“I know, i feel so too. Might steal it in case i miss you.”

An immediate response as Seokmin raise up from his position.

You had spent the last 30 minutes freeing yourself from his strong grip. And not without the childlike whine from your husband about wanting to stay longer tangled on the bed.

Thankfully you’re stronger in will and manage to essentially clean up and get ready to return to the palace after the impromptu night out.

“Oh so you miss me enough to needing my piece of clothing with my lingering perfume huh?”

“That was…not the point.” You argue.

“But it’s not wrong either huh Y/n?” And you lose.

You rolled your eyes with a grin, Seokmin already making his way towards you. In all of his morning glory. Paired with a blinding smile under his loosened curls.

“You know you're insufferable right?”

“I know i’m irresistible. I can see your eyes traveled somewhere other than my face. Noticeably lower, even.”

You hate that he's telling the truth. But you can't decide which you hate more. Seokmin’s playful side or his blunt honesty. His teasing nature is a strong contender for now.

In a mix of chuckle and a groan you make a quick grab to the floor and throw a piece of clothing towards the naked man.

“You ought to wear some clothes before Wonwoo came barging in like yesterday.” Seokmin makes a show of wearing his own clothes, still making his way to you. Fighting the urge to bite your lips and stop your husband’s doing.

“I’m sure we scarred him enough to let him have some decency to knock now.” Seokmin chuckles. Now clad in a low hanging trousers and a wrinkly white shirt.

“Oh, talking about yesterday. I was walking around the estate looking at paintings and i was secretly looking for your mother’s secret signature.” You paused to remembers all the long trek along the hallways before ending up at the library yesterday.

“I see you haven’t found it?” You nodded to Seokmin’s word. “I’m telling this because you’re special Y/n. It’s the painting in the dining room. Of roses shrub. If you look at the corner, she scribble ‘To. DK’.” His little excitements unknowingly mirror on your face.

“And talking about your mother, i remember seeing her when i was in kindergarten. Guess who i saw her with? Some little kid who run around the playground and trip on a pebble, ended up scarring his cheek.”

You are not unfamiliar to the small, barely visible remnants of scar on Seokmin’s cheek. The same cheek who now rose in smile as he discerns your words. The recent close proximities you’ve been having certainly jogs your mind of such incident you’ve been secretly keeping.

It was a rush of morning, many people gather around your school but only few are allowing nearby. You, being a student and having affinity to small, secluded spaces, have witness Seokmin who runs from his security details to chase something but eventually trip along the cold hard earth. You remember his mother running so quick to his aid and didn’t scold him at all, only worried gaze as her fingers turns bloody from Seokmin’s scar. The little crown prince tries his best to bury his cries despite his pain, but once the late Queen pulls him to her embrace, the dam broke loose and loud cries resounding around the strangely empty playground on your kindergarten.

“You’re kidding me.” Seokmin whispers behind his smile. The memories rushing all along his steps as he came over to you who chuckles at his own excitement.

“No, i am quite serious. You fell while chasing butterfly.” Your words tapered to a laugh all while Seokmin continues his face of disbelief.

When he tries to pry more information out of you, the familiar low tone of Wonwoo calling out from the door filled the room. Informing you both that you must haste to return to the palace.

You both spend the whole car ride whilst holding each other hand and trying to ignore Wonwoo’s pointed gaze. Whole morning spent in a car ride until the familiar rolling hills came to your view past noon.

Seokmin are quick to be whisked away by Seungkwan as soon as his feet touch the ground. Yeri shots you a pointed look, an amused smirk on her lips as she took a second look at Seokmin who walk past her. An unfamiliar smile on his face.

Probably mirrored in your face.

“Well, your highness. I hope you enjoy the impromptu night out despite the storm who quite literally swept the surrounding estate.” You hide your smile under the sleeve of your shirt. Still faintly smelling like Seokmin. “And i do hope you’re keeping the dress you wore yesterday safely, because it’s vintage Alaïa.”

Hearing the designer name from Yeri stopped you midsteps. Wincing when Yeri’s eyes grew as saucers. You can hear her scolding words even before she opens her mouth.

The rest of the day drag on as you tries to finish any assignment and paperwork on the foundation that has to be delivered urgently. Eventually, the strain of work worn you out after Yeri declared that your asssignment is done for the day. Not before reminding you that she’ll return tomorrow to discuss the continuation of your tour around the establishment that’s newly renovated through the foundation of the late Queens’

When Seokmin found you passed out by the sofa near the fireplace in his study, he smiled at your stirring—sleepy state.

Squinting at your surrounding, you smiled back at Seokmin before placing your hand to his cheek. He returns the smile before taking your hand to his.

“It’s late. Have you eaten, my Queen?” Oh you cannot get used to those words coming out of his mouth. It sent you somewhere you fear could never return.

“A- actually i haven’t. Yeri swamped me with paperworks. She runs this place like the Navy.”

Seokmin’s shoulder shakes as he laughs, yet it slowly replaced with a tired sighs. In his palms, your hand still held tightly. You can sense that it slowly turns towards some wort of an anchor for Seokmin.

Moments later, after agreeing to Seokmin’s invitation to dinner, the unusually empty residence welome you as Seokmin begins walking around the same empty kitchen. He’s determined to cook you something just to clear up his mind.

A habit he learned from you. Only that his skills now only ranged from fried eggs and fried rice.

You had admitted that you’re very much okay with a simple fried rice. Seokmin begins his tasks. On one morning, Seokmin had sleepily confess that he too wanted to learn such menial tasks in helping you to prepare breakfast.

You had then begins to teach Seokmin your simplest way of a fried rice. Since then, you had secretly waiting for the day Seokmin would offer you such food.

Now that it’s happening upon your eyes, you truly don’t know what to feel.

“Anything you need me to help?” You provided. Hoping that Seokmin asks for more than the fried rice task at hand.

Seokmin, who had already foregoes his jacket at the parlour sofa, now with rolled up sleeves, he kept his eyes to the cutting board. A forlorn smile hid in his face.

“Today there has been breaking news regarding my mother.” Seokmin begins. He now moved to turn the stovetop on. “The Royal Court of Justice is forced to open a case to halt every funding to every charity foundation she had built. Also, disbanding it on an account of corruption, security fraud, and even blood money.”

Showing the need to pour it all out of his chest, you let Seokmin continues. Not before you sighed in empathy.

“They launch strategic media attack on her. Discrediting her life work and trying end so many of her trust and charity works she built. Can you imagine how it would let so many people suffer? Thousands of people depends on those trust works and it let them have better life. And now some nobles want it to end because they hate to see it thrive and hindering of their own greedy corruption.”

“So they wanted to see it end even before i could continue her legacy.” Seokmin nodded at your words.

“They wanted to see it ends. Maybe it’s a revenge for the stunt we pulled with Seungcheol and Mingyu. Don’t want the heroic rewards they given turns to reveal how truly awful the situation are.”

“Seokmin, i-”

“I- know, i won’t blame anyone but those corrupted people. But it never lessen the hate i have for those so called nobles.” Seokmin flashes you a smile to try to ease your worry. “Anyway, i have instructed few close team of lawyers to look after every documents, procedures, and any stray footnotes anyone could miss during mother’s reign.”

“I’ll try to give them a visit to help tomorrow.”

The sizzling sound of the fried rice eventually filled in the silence that has stretch between you two. You don’t hate Seokmin for losing his words, time is needed for him to think clear and arrange his thought. Action spurs on his burst of emotion has proven to be ineffective to everyone around him.

For now, you both enjoy a simple indulgence of Seokmin’s cooking. Warm and filling to the unfamiliar empy void of the unknown that the two of you now face.

“You know, i should’ve learned how to do this properly before even thinking to cook for you like this.”

“Yeah, this is awful.” Your words snap Seokmin to looks at you incredulously.

You were trying to tease him to lift up his mood, but failed halfway when Seokmin’s face you with looks resembling a kicked puppy. When you almost fell over laughing, Seokmin eventually breaks a laugh. He looks at you with a side eye as he scoop the fried rice.

“Seokmin, this is good. You’re a good learner.”

“Yeah?” you nod to answer Seokmin. His smile grew twice, chewing through the food you complimented.

After finishing the plate quickly— you underestimate how actually hungry you are. The simple fried rice, cooked by Seokmin felt like the most filling food as of this moment. The dark kitchen, utensils lying around the moderately messy counter. The unusually empty residence. For once in a long time, you felt like a place is enough for you to call ‘home’.

“Hey, can you do this for me?” Seokmin looks at you curiously. Now that you tried to brought it up, a sudden wash of embarrassment filled your lungs. “Can you sing for me? Before it gets weird, i’ve overheard you humming and maybe singing a little in the shower.”

“Such little walls between our room huh. What else have you overheard me doing?”

“Come on, sing something, a little.” You encourage, taking his idle hands and pulling Seokmin up to the middle of the dimly lit kitchen.

You tried to hide your shy smile as you sway the intertwined hands slightly. Seokmin follows, the same smile mirrored on his face. What follows is the soft hums you had secretly kept as one of your favourites.

Against all odds, the two of you ended up slow dancing in all kinds of silly tunes Seokmin has manage to hum and sing along. Every exaggerated dips and turns with his every moves brought more laughs you had ever done ever since you arrived at the residence. The same smile etched on Seokmin’s face. For tonight, the two of you can smile in each other’s embrace.

prev chapter || next chapter

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #lee seokmin #seokmin x reader #dokyeom x reader #svt smut #svt x reader #j writes: poapr #seventeen smut

121 notes · View notes

celeste-clearwater-06 · 3 months ago

Text

The Kitchen Window (pt. 4)

Bayverse! Raphael x Fem! Reader

desc- (everything finally clicks into place when you're invited over to Vern's place. some new friends mean new experiences)

warnings - swearing

word count - 4.7k (I told y'allll)

READ PREVIOUS PARTS HERE - one - two - three

You’ve been brooding the past couple of days. Life has been sucker punching you in the gut, one insane, unthinkable blow at a time.

Work hours are getting ridiculously longer, April O’Neil hasn’t texted you back since the night you spilled all of your secrets. And you haven’t seen or heard Raphael around. Not that important, but it still contributes to the pile of miserable shit you’re handling. Thankfully, Vannie seems to be filling that lonely space in your flat. She’s a sweet relief to see at the end of each night when you get back from work, purring and content. You hadn’t realized how nice it was to come home to someone that’s so pleased to see you. She’s helping you cope, even if just a little. A cat tree now sits in the far corner of your living room so she’s not climbing all over the counters and scratching at your sofa. Though simple, it adds a new, homey addition to the space.

This night off is uneventful. Vannie sits in your lap, fast sleep, while you mindlessly scroll on your phone and sip on a glass of fruit juice that’s been sitting in your fridge for just a little too long. Hometown highschool friends with their engagement rings and college graduation posts. Not something that you particularly yearned for, but it still hurt a little. It was probably time to pick up a damn hobby. Vern texts you. What a surprise.

[Hey kiddo]

He hasn’t called you that in a long time. It makes your throat tighten up.

[what up big man]

It takes him a second to type out another text.

[I know we haven’t seen each other much. Figured you might wanna come see my apartment? it’s nice]

An invite to your older brother’s fancy new place is the last thing you’d expected in the form of a late night message.

[tonight?]

[tommorow]

[hell yeah]

Finally, a small start to getting better. Vannie stretches in your lap and you stroke her fur.

The subway ride uptown is weird. You forget that there’s literal trains running underground, after walking to and from work for so long. It would be more exciting, if not for being sandwiched between two total strangers and the silence of people kind of just looking around. The screech of wheels on the tracks breaks it every once in a while. You’re also not a fan of the shoving and pushing of total strangers through the way-too-small sliding doors when you reach your destination, almost tripping at least twice. Rude.

At the very least, Vern’s apartment complex was just two blocks away from the subway exit. You knew the upper parts of the city were nicer, but it doesn’t really hit until you’re walking on the wide sidewalks and passing restaurants and window shops that put your cafe to shame. Even the early afternoon atmosphere just seems less heavy. There’s more light. You catch just a few more passing smiles than you usually would, up the steps into the main building, where you have to press a button and announce you’re a visitor to your older brother.

The elevator takes you to the 11th floor of the nicest complex you’ve ever been in (not that you’d been in many anyhow).

The whole way here, you've been excited to see Vern, practically bouncing with every step all the way up to his door. But now your fist freezes right above the place where you’re about to knock. Something was so off about this. You rap your knuckles on the wood anyway.

Someone opens the door, after a few shuffling footsteps, and it’s not Vern. Your heart drops.

“April?” A voice crack slips its way through your dry throat.

Oh my god. She’s told him everything.

She told your older brother all of your insane ramblings, and now she’s greeting you with a friendly smile like it’s nothing. So this is what the invitation was all about. The both of them were probably waiting inside with a psychologist or a one way ticket to a padded room. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights.

“Oh hey!” April is warm with her greeting, but it does nothing to shake the spirit of your utter confusion. To add to it all, Vern’s head peeks over hers with a weak wave of his hand and a sheepish expression.

“Hey kiddo.”

You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between them. The reporter still holds that confident, close-mouthed smile, while your older brother is struggling to keep it together.

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here!” it’s more of a question than a statement, “Are we having a little get together or something?”

Vern tries to speak, but April cuts him off.

“Yeah we figured it’d be good to talk here!”

You can’t protest when she grabs your arm and all but drags you through the doorway and slams it shut, leaving you in the entryway of a lavish, modern, way-too-white apartment. It’s hard to process anything going on. The scenery, Vern’s guilt ridden eyes and the millions of thoughts firing in your brain are all increasingly overwhelming. You're starting to get a headache.

“L-Look, April, about the other night-“

“You don’t have to explain anything.” She pulls you again, this time in the middle of taking your shoes off and past the coat rack. You catch your brother's eye and he looks nearly as lost as you feel. April continues.

“It’s about time we talked about this anyway.”

That makes you nervous. You’re being led into a nice kitchen, Vern at your heels and watching helplessly.

“We don‘t have to!” You exclaim and yank your wrist from her determined hold, “I was just-just tired! I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep, I know I sounded like a total maniac-“

She is completely uninterested in hearing your case, instead rolling her eyes and taking hold of your arm once again.

“We can just forget this whole thing! The loneliness has been getting to me, it’s really…not…”

When you step past the wall of the kitchen you trail off, dumbfounded to silence. All and any rational thought has fled.

Raphael, your savior, the giant fucking turtle, is standing, cross-armed, and a little nervous looking, next to three others that look eerily similar in their stature and green scales, though they all wear vastly different expressions that give away their thoughts. They’re all decked in various scraps of gear and oversized clothing, and like the one in red, have different colored bandanas over their eyes.

You look and feel like a total moron. Just standing there, mouth agape, only wearing one shoe and eyes flicking between the quartet of reptiles and your brother, who’s pinching his temple between two fingers in distress. The shortest of the four offers an over exaggerated smile and wave, before being kicked in the back of the leg, by another in a blue mask. He looks immensely annoyed. You have no idea what to say and when you open your mouth to speak, a flustered gasp squeezes its way from the back of your throat.

“I told you guys this was a shit idea,” Vern says. The tallest turtle shifts his weight from one large foot to another. It’s so quiet, so awkward, and yet you’re so discombobulated, your head starts to spin and you lean against the wall for support. You knew there was more than one night assailant. But four? And all nearly the same size and appearance? This was beyond absurd.

“Okay,” your voice is quiet, but it immediately captures the attention of everyone that’s standing in the room, “Can someone, genuinely, please tell me what the fuck is happening right now.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you right away.” April speaks up from behind you. You turn to see her apologetic eyes. Your silence prompts her to continue an explanation.

“These are my friends.” She sounds like trying to tame some wild animal, and her arm sweeps out to gesture towards the four, “I just wanted to see, you know… if it was really just ‘some guy’ that stopped whoever was grabbing you.”

Guess she was right. You rotate once again at Vern who is trying to avoid eye contact.

“You knew?!”

Everyone jumps at the sudden escalation in your shocked question.

“I didn’t know how to tell you!”

You scoff.

“What, am I supposed to just tell you I’m acquainted with four, crime fighting, ninja turtles?! I’d sound batshit crazy!”

It was only fair that he thought that way. Suddenly, your distant, uninvolved brother was in your exact shoes, and your shoulders slump downwards in exasperation.

“So would I, Vern! I knew- I knew-, I wasn’t insane, but this whole situation has been eating at me for fucking weeks!”

If not for the absolute shock running through you, you would have laughed at the way April and the vigilantes just stand there and watch your argument like it’s reality TV, turning their heads each time one of you speaks up.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? You should be glad we're telling you now!”

You throw your hands in the air and roll your eyes, once again rendered speechless.

A different voice pulls you from the confrontation. It’s the one in blue, now standing a little nearer to you. He’s massive, just like the others, even more now up close. You’re still not used to them talking in perfect, clear English. Or, really, at all.

“Sorry we had to meet this way.” His voice is deep, mature, and assertive. Surely the head honcho of the group. He’s smiling like it’s a peace offering, lopsided and gentle.

“I-I don’t-“ You search for the right response, but he does the talking for you and offers a calloused, three fingered hand.

“Leonardo.”

A long pause. Then an overtaxed sigh. You accept his introduction and awkwardly take it. You’re literally shaking a talking turtle's hand.

“I guess you already know my name.”

“We sure do, angel!” Leonardo is being shoved suddenly, quickly replaced with the energetic, shortest of the party. His bandanna is orange, and he’s puffing out his chest with confidence that out’s Vern’s ego to sorry shame. It immediately puts a curious smile on your face.

“I’m Michealangelo, but all the ladies call me Mikey.”

He grabs your hand delicately and places a cool kiss to the back of it while he bows toward the floor. You can’t do anything but awkwardly chuckle and watch as the others groan and cover their faces in embarrassment. This guy was pretty funny.

“Save some for the rest of us, Mike.”

You look to the tallest, who’s pushing the thick-lensed, tortoise print glasses up his nose. He opts to wave his hand from where he’s standing, seeming to sense the already overwhelming lack of personal space you have.

“Donatello.” It’s the voice you overheard on the radio last week, that accidentally gave away Raphael’s name.

Oh. OH. It finally clicks in your brain. Leonardo, Michelangelo, Donatello. Raphael.

“Renaissance artists, huh?”

April meets your face with a kind of look that reads, ‘now you get it’.

“Oh yeah, baby,” Mikey kisses his flexed bicep, “Works of art.”

You laugh.

“I named my cat after Van Gogh.”

Raphael, still standing back from the group, lifts his head and meets your eyes at the mention of her. He looks away again, but a little smirk breaks as he rolls a toothpick off his tongue and in between his teeth.

The sort of shared interest seems to break a little bit of the tension, and the other three smile.

”Damn, Raph,” Mikey grins over at the ray of sunshine, “Not even gonna come say hi to your girlfriend?”

Your face flushes lightly. It’s clearly just a little jab to get under his skin, but you’re caught slightly off guard. Thankfully nobody seems to notice.

The smile’s gone, replaced with a huff of his nostril and a flick to Mikey’s head when Raphael walks over to finally introduce himself.

“Hey.”

You realize, this is the first time you’re standing in front of him without a window in the way. He’s still impossibly large. But you’re just so close. It feels almost foreign, witnessing the broad shoulders and tough plastron that pairs with those intense, forest colored eyes.

“Nice to meet you. Again.” Is all you can say, through a warm smile.

He snuffs, a sort of amused laugh, that makes you smile widely.

“Yeah. Sorry this got turned into such a big ordeal.”

“I don’t mind. I’m glad I got to put a name to the face.”

You two kind of just stare at each other in silence. Mikey doesn’t let it draw on for long.

“You need to let me see this cat!”

“Oh, of course!” You don’t realize how warm your face is until you’re grabbing your phone from your pocket.

April and Vern are standing near each other again, now a little more relaxed seeing you warm up and pull up a photo of Vannie from your camera roll while the four look over your shoulder. Mikey coos at a video of her playing with the strings of your hoodie.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

So maybe it wasn’t ideal, the execution of their plan. Maybe you felt a little betrayed by your brother and his friend.

But.

You’ve made four new friends. And, as odd as they come (and intimidating as they look), they seem to like the way you welcome into your life.

The weeks flying by after you meet the four brothers have gone so much better than before. You’re getting sleep, still working your job up at the cafe, you’ve got Vannie. And that late-night sound of the manhole sliding against asphalt in the back alleyway begins once again. Now when you awake early in the morning to its noise, you just smile and snuggle further into your covers, with the reassurance that there are no scary monsters or felons that stalk in the night. Just four city-protecting vigilantes doing what they do best.

On the weekends, you stay up late to their frequent visits to your kitchen window. They usually swing by for a quick chat or check in on you. Most of the time it’s Mikey or Raphael. Or both. Sometimes the younger will tag along just to pay Vannie a visit while you and Raphael make playful small talk. Donnie will come through your area every once in a while, and though he doesn’t talk as much as his other brothers, it’s a refreshment to just listen to him talk about the state of the city and whatever new nerdy experiment he’s got going on. Leo rarely visits, unless you happen to catch them all leaving the sewer exit and he sticks around to hear you tell a crazy story about a rude customer or stupid order you’ve had to deal with during the week.

It’s so refreshing to have friends to talk to, even if it’s not every day.

Along with these pop ins, Raph’s been leaving things in your window on some of the nights you’re sleeping or coming home extra late from long shifts. Sometimes it’s a cool rock he found (who knows where), other times, an old abandoned action figure, or more recycled toys for Vannie. Your collection had accumulated on the dresser in your bedroom. It’s sweet.

Sometimes, you return the favor and leave him a cold drink you made at work by the open window before you flop into bed, exhausted. Summer’s rolling around the corner and even the nights get hot, especially considering moving around the city with all of his (badass) parkour. On occasion, you’ll make some for his siblings too, but the weird looks from your coworkers, leaving the shift with a cup holder full of unpaid drinks, limits this to every once in a while.

You don’t know it, but Raph feels so spoiled by your gifts to him.

Life is going so great, and you can feel the stone wall of his gruff exterior start to break when he chuckles at one of your jokes. Your heart warms when you think about him at work. As much as you enjoy seeing all of the brothers, it’s the red-banded one you’re drawn closest to. He makes you feel kind of giddy. It’s hard to put a label on it, but you’d love to call him your best friend, if not, one of your only.

It’s sticky and humid outside, on a late Saturday night in June. You’ve been watching a movie in your bedroom, with Vannie nestled beside you, sleeping, a bowl of microwave popcorn in your lap. The tv’s loud enough to almost drown out a little noise that comes from the kitchen. You barely hear it, but it catches your attention and you quickly snatch the remote to pause the movie.

Tap, tap, tap.

You smile. The shifting of the bed wakes up your cat, and she watches as you throw off the duvet and walk from the bedroom into the hall, bowl of popcorn in hand. When you pass the hall door, Raphael is grinning at you through the window and you fast-walk over to unlock the latch and slide it open. Humid air immediately flows in with his smug smile. Now you remember why the window was closed.

“Hey stranger.”

He snorts, and leans to rest his forearms on the sill.

“Whaddup, short stack?”

You shrug, and then offer out the bowl for him to take from. Raph grabs a handful and stuffs it in his mouth.

“What brings you to this part of town at…” you look at the stove clock, “3 in the morning.”

Raph talks while he’s chewing. A usually crude performance that you find kind of endearing.

“Slow night,” He swallows, and there’s a crumb on the corner of his lip, “Not a lot goin on for us out here.”

You nod, trying not to laugh at the leftovers that he clearly doesn’t notice. He quirks a brow.

“What?”

You reach out to try and swipe at it with your thumb but Raph flinches backwards.

“Come here!” Your laugh is soft, “You got something.”

He brings his face a little close and you wipe it away. It’s the first time you’ve touched his face, you realize. It’s cool, but there’s softer skin on his snout compared to the rest of his leathery scales. You try not to linger on it too much. He sees it on your thumb and playfully rolls his eyes. You can’t tell for sure, but there seems to be a little warmth creeping on his face. There’s tension.

“Yeah, I was savin’ that for later.”

Raph swats your hand away and you laugh.

“That hungry, huh?”

He nods.

“Actually yeah. We got leftover pizza at the lair, but I’m not supposed to be goin back for a while.”

“Want me to make you something real quick?”

He seems a little surprised at your offer (not like he’s gonna turn it down). You hear his stomach grumble.

“Can��t say no to that. How long you think it’ll take ya?”

“Probably a little bit. Do you wanna come inside?”

The invitation leaves your lips before you can think. None of the brothers had actually come inside your apartment before. It takes everything in you not to cringe and brace for the impact of his rejection while Raph looks at you with a perplexed glint in his eyes.

“Sure,” his answer sounds nonchalant, but his grin tells you a whole different story, “Dunno how you expect me to squeeze through this teeny little window though.”

You ponder for a second.

“You think you can sneak up to my front door?”

Raph shrugs.

“I can try. If I die, tell everyone it was your fault.”

You laugh.

“‘Vigilante turtle is found dead trying to get some of the worlds best chicken and rice.’ I can read the headlines now.”

He just shakes his head with a smirk, and then jumps off the fire escape.

“See you in a few.”

You shut the window, and in 45 seconds, there’s a knock at the door, and you rush over to open it and quickly let him in. Raph has to duck just a little to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe.

“Welcome to my crib.” It’s cringe, the way you lightly punch his shoulder.

“God, you sound like Mikey.”

“That was the goal.”

The turtle rolls his eyes, and then looks around the living room with a little smile.

“Gotta get you some decorations in here.”

You sigh.

“I know. I’m not here all the time. Plus I think Vannie would just knock shit over.”

Meow

“Speaking of.”

She’s already making her way over to him from your room, and rubs herself against his muscular calf.

“Hey kitty.”

Raph bends to give her head a little scritch, not following you over to the kitchenette where you’re pulling thawed chicken from the refrigerator.

“I think she missed you.”

He doesn’t respond, just looks up at your turned body, as you fill a small pot with water from the kitchen tap.

“You said chicken and rice, huh?”

You nod, looking back at him. He’s walking over to you, sandaled feet scuffing on the carpet.

“Small-apartment-owner staple. Plus it’s easy.”

He’s standing behind you now, arms crossed, and curiously watching as you turn on two of the stove burners.

“Probably not for me. I burn just about everythin I touch.”

You think quietly to yourself, the irony of such a hothead setting a bowl of cereal up in flames.

“This is super simple. I’ll teach you if you want.”

“Oh so you’re a barista and a culinary teacher

“This is one of the only things I can cook. You wanna cut up some of that for me?”

Raph sees you gesture to the unopened package of chicken, while you’re pouring a cup of white rice into the pot of slowly boiling water. Cutting, he could do.

The two of you work silently in the small space, ducking over and under each other to grab utensils and spices. You instruct him here and there, but still leave room for the comfortable quiet that’s settled in the air.

After about 15 minutes, you pour a bowl for each of you (his is filled just a little bit more than yours) and invite him to sit on the couch to eat together. The first bite he takes has his eyes rolling in the back of his head with a guttural groan. You flush from behind your fork.

“Good?”

“Fuckin good.”

Your giddy smile says it all. It’s flattering the way he eats without saying a word. You’re so at ease, sitting criss-cross on the couch next to this beast of a guy, both enjoying the comforts of a meal your mom had taught you how to make long before you had left for New-York. This felt so domestic. When he's done, Raph wipes his mouth and sets the bowl down on your coffee table, fork clattering against the ceramic, and leans back on the couch with a stretch. You’re only halfway through your dinner.

“That’s some Gordon Ramsey shit.”

You scoff.

“Hardly. But thank you.”

“Nah, thank you. I’m gettin tired of all that takeout Mike brings home.”

His eyes are closed, hands resting on his plastron, and feet kicked up onto the coffee table. Beautiful, you think, and you’re surprising yourself again with the thought. You take advantage of his relaxed eyes, eyes trailing up the long, muscular extent of his body. A weird, warm sensation trills its way up your body, when his broad chest moves with a heavy breath, stopping it’s way at your lungs to give them gentle squeeze. It slows your chewing. When Raph’s eyes open, you quickly focus your attention back down to the food that you’ve suddenly become full from. He says something that you have to ask him to repeat.

“Show me around?”

“O-oh. Yeah sure.” You stand fast, and clumsy, bowl taking its place next to his. You awkwardly adjust your shirt and wait for him to stand from the couch. He follows you down the short hallway.

“Here’s the bathroom,” you point to your right, and wait for him to kind of peek his head around for a moment, “And here’s my room.”

The movie on the tv is still paused, but it lights the room with a warm glow, along with the dim led lights strung up in the corners of the small space. A simple twin-sized bed in the middle, in between a matching bedside table and dresser. Raph steps into the room past you. It looks so cramped with his massive body in here. You can’t stop his eye catching the little collection of trinkets, lined up in a neat row, on top of the black dresser. His grin is small.

“Was wonderin if you kept all this shit,” He chuckles, picking up one of the little superhero action figures and admiring it. His whole hand engulfs the toy, which is covered in scuffs and scratch marks from years of play.

“Can’t see a reason why I wouldn’t.”

Raphael’s response is a relaxed smile when he looks over his shoulder at you. Your heart skips. He turns again and gently sets the figure in its place.

“This your family?”

He’s referring to the framed picture of you, Vern and your parents behind the line of his little gifts.

“Yeah. My mom and her husband.”

Raph lifts it and you walk over to look at it with him. It’s from a few years prior.

“Not your dad?”

You shake you head.

“Vern’s dad. But we’re close.”

The four of you are in mid laugh, in the selfie that you take with an outstretched arm. You remember taking it on a vacation in the mountains.

“Vern’s always got that stupid look on his face.”

You snicker, shaking your head.

“Yeah. Idiot.”

Once again, Raph places it in its exact spot. It makes your knees shake a little when he’s looking down at you, just centimeters away from your body. To ignore and prevent anymore weird and confusing tension to build, you flop backwards on your bed with a sigh.

“Whatcha bitchin about now?”

You smile up at the ceiling.

“Just don’t wanna go back to work.”

He sits on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah. Sounds boring.”

You nod, even though he’s not looking at you. You can feel the warmth of his leg bouncing next to yours.

“Whatcha thinking about, Red?”

“Nothin’ important.”

You tilt your head down just a little to see his massive shell facing you. He’s hunched over. You kick him lightly, and he knocks your leg away gently.

“Come onnn, talk to meeee.”

You go to kick him again, but Raph grabs your leg and tickles the back of it. You squeal.

“STOP,” the fight is useless, kicking and scrambling to get away, with an ornery grin on his face, “I’m gonna piss myself!”

With that he backs off, and you’re heaving through laughter.

“Mean.”

“Annoying.”

His smile is wiped away with another thought crossing.

“What time is it?” You both glance at the digital clock on the bedside table behind you.

“Shit. Almost five.”

“Yeah. I better get goin. Gettin’ late- or, I guess early.”

You follow him up to the front door, walking past Vannie who’s playing with that first cat toy he left on your window.

Raph reaches for the door handle, but stops.

“Thanks for lettin me in. And for the food.”

You smile softly.

“Anytime, Raph.”

You didn’t mean to stop so close to him, but here you are, smile slowly fading while you look up at his face. His eyes have got you in a strong hold, and he mirrors your expression, unintentionally. His nostrils flare with a breath outwards.

You want to kiss him, all of a sudden.

Kiss Raphael right on the mouth and not have a care about it.

But you don’t. He grins.

“Stay safe.”

“You too.”

The click of the closing door is your cue to slap your hands over your face in exasperation.

He’s left you with dirty dishes, an empty space, and flustered, red cheeks. You smile behind your hands hearing the scrape of Raphael heading back down into the sewers

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

YEAHHH, MY BABES EATIN GOOD TONIGHTTTT. THANK Y'ALL FOR READING AND DON'T FORGET TO REBLOG!!!

Ask to be on my taglist so you don't miss out on further updates!!!

THANK YOU BABES 🩷💕🫧💓🧼

Taglist - [ @ladyofparchments @well-its-not-human-anymore @raphaelsrightarm @chiliiscereal @milkytheholy1 @moxfirefly @raphsgrl @leosgirl82 @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @imthegreenfairy86 @aurora-the-kunoichi @angelhazeisaweirdo @raisin-shell @fyreball66 @redsrooftopprincess @milykins @ahhhhhhhhhfuck @quitecontrary-to-mary @the-cauldron-witch @brins-rogers @yelocaltrashcan @pheradream-15 @asillysimp @miranexx @cinnamonskiss @le0n-ardo ]

#xreader #bayverse raphael x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt raphael #tmnt bayverse #raphael x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse raphael #part 4 #the kitchen window

251 notes · View notes

fuctacles · 13 days ago

Text

Competition(?)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

@genderthings Stobin at work: Entertainment. Thanks @stevesjockstrap for the extra brain power 💚 T | CC has more talking parts here

"There's... a surprisingly big crowd today," Doug points out as he looks around The Hideout. From their dimly lit stage, they can't see the tables well, but the ambient chatter around tells them the small bar is packed with more people than would normally make sense on a Tuesday night.

"Maybe there was football match?" Eddie suggests, scrunching his nose. It happened once before--overjoyed fans coming over for celebratory drinks. They had to play a few pop covers to appease them and avoid their tires getting slashed. Thankfully Gareth knows ABBA better than any respected metalhead should.

"Not one I know about," Chrissy frown thoughtfully as she adjusts their microphones. She's been coming out with them for months now, helping with the set up and on a couple occasions even letting them persuade her into doing some back up vocals.

"Hey, kids!"

They turn their heads to find Bev jumping up the stage towards them.

"What's up, boss?" Eddie smiles to her his parent-pleasing smile. Well, adult-pleasing in general.

"Sorry for the late notice, but you're sharing the stage tonight," she says.

"Oh?" Eddie raises his eyebrows and the rest of the bands comes closer to listen in.

"Yeah, these two radio hosts became popular recently and wanted to try some jokes out on stage. We thought today would be fine, since--"

"Since nobody comes in on Tuesdays," Eddie nods.

"Well, the word spread so..." she pointedly motions towards the tables. "It's a good chance for you, so don't fuck it up."

"Uh huh." Eddie nods absentmindedly. "No pressure."

"Just play a few normal songs."

"Normal songs?!" Gareth splutters, like he isn't the one humming Madonna in the shower.

Bev only grins, knowing full well that it rails them up.

"They have half an hour before you come in, but they couldn't give me a proper estimate. They'll announce you, so keep your ears out."

Jeff rolls his eyes.

"Oh, great. A pair of divas."

Bev gives him a flat look.

"They're still kids with no idea what they're doing. Just like you."

Eddie watches her leave the stage and a sinking feeling settles in his gut. He swats at Chrissy's arm to get her attention.

"Hey Chris. How many chaotic kids could be working at the Hawkins Radio, you think?"

"Huh?" She frowns at him in confusion, before the same conclusion as his comes to her mind. "Shit."

"Shit," Eddie agrees with a nod. He turns to look at the backstage door, slightly ajar from their trips with equipment. Chrissy follows his line of sight, expecting the universe to prove them right any time now, since they've already solved its cruel plans.

"Fuck are you staring at, come help with the drums," Doug flicks at Eddie's shoulder when their stillness prolongs, and that's the moment the universe pushes Steve&Robin out of the door.

They're bouncing around and laughing from the nervous energy bubbling inside.

Doug pats them both on the shoulders and leaves them be, drum duties forgotten.

Robin peeks over the stage at the people gathered in the bar.

"Why are there so many people?" she hisses to her best friend, gathered right behind her.

"Dunno. They had ten people audience last time I've checked," he whispers back.

"Yeah, they're here for you," Eddie speaks up, making them look up in perfect sync.

"Eddie!"

"Chrissy!"

They crawl onto the stage foregoing the stairs just a few steps away.

"Hey guys! I hope you don't mind that we're sharing the stage tonight?" Steve smiles sheepishly.

"We thought it would be a small crowd to test out a few bits, but uh..." Robin looks again at the occupied tables.

"Yeah, turns out some radio celebrities are performing tonight, can you believe?" Chrissy teases.

"Stop," Robin waves at her, cheeks going red. "We didn't think anyone cared!"

"We mentioned it only once on the air today," Steve nods along. "What if we're like, bad?" He winces.

"Guys, dudes." Eddie raises his eyebrows. "Your show is funny."

"Oh. You listen to it?"

Are Steve's cheeks turning pink or is he having a stroke?

"Yeah, my friends have a radio show, of course I listen to it," he scoffs playfully.

"You're like a walking comedy duo together, just be you and don't overthink it," Chrissy adds.

"So we're like clowns," Steve frowns, and before Eddie can tell him he's make the cutest clown out there, Robin is shaking him.

"That's a good thing, dingus! Clowns are funny! Clowns make people laugh!"

Well, whatever works for them.

"Well, clowns." Jeff slams his hands on Robin and Steve's shoulders. "How would you want to join the other clowns in our pre-show warm ups?" he offers.

Eddie wants to glare at him but he's busy glaring at his hand on Steve's shoulder already.

"Like vocal exercises?" Robin asks curiously.

"And stretches, yeah," Chrissy nods, remembering how dumb they can get with those. It would be weird if she bailed today since she always joins in no matter if she's going on stage or not. Meaning she's going to make the monkey noises in front of Robin, in solidarity with Eddie.

"Eddie is really good at popping backs!" Gareth pipes up out of nowhere throwing an arm over Eddie's shoulder. "You should try it, Steve!"

Eddie gives up on the glaring to look at Steve, smiling shyly at him.

"That sounds really good, actually. If you don't mind?" he cocks his head.

"Nuh, uh, not at all," Eddie shakes his head, feeling his mouth getting dry.

"Great! Let's go!" Jeff grins, pulling them towards the backstage. Gareth pushes Eddie and Chrissy after them.

"You're welcome," he whispers to them.

It's almost impressive how many paired exercises they could come up with on the spot.

Tagsies: @blasvemous @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94 @eyehartart

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #mine #stobinatwork #gender things #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #hellcheer #buckingham #stobin #cj x genderthings

78 notes · View notes

zosin-ya · 8 months ago

Text

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 5 - ʟᴀᴛᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜰᴜɴ

Summary: After your shared exam was finally over, Law invites you to the party, showing a more relaxed side of himself. As the night progresses, his boldness starts to emerge, especially after a few drinking games and making out session in the bathroom.

a.n.: Ikakku as the bartender, Shachi being drunk and Penguin somewhere drunk as well. Enjoy! (4,5k words whoops got a bit carried away)

tags: One Piece, Law x Reader, Modern AU, University AU, Penguin and Shachi as Laws flat mate, Law on a sick motorcycle cuz its hot

[ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ɪɴᴅᴇx]

“You invited her?! Dude, nice!” Shachi exclaimed, holding up a hand for a high-five.

Law just stared at it, unimpressed, and ignored the gesture. He didn’t really feel like it was something to celebrate. Sure, he was glad you wanted to come to the party, but beyond that? Whatever. He was more relieved the exam was over and had gone well. The fact that you’d be there too? Casual excitement—nothing to make a big deal about.

"Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your party?" Law said, towel-drying his damp hair while still dressed in his sweatpants. He had a bit of time before he needed to pick you up. After giving you the address and realizing how far the nearest bus stop was from the party, he suggested giving you a ride.

“Boo, you’re such a buzzkill,” Shachi grinned, throwing on his jacket and grabbing his keys. “Better bring a better mood to the party.”

“Whatever."

“Aigh, see ya later!” Shachi called over his shoulder, before heading out the door.

Law watched him leave, glad for the silence settling in the apartment. He took a deep breath, finishing up getting ready, and tried to shake off the exhaustion...or was he nervous?

While Law was casually getting ready, you were in a whirlwind of chaos. It wasn’t that you were nervous—okay, maybe just a little. Who were you kidding? You were a nervous wreck. It had been a while since you went out with someone, let alone to a party full of strangers. At least Law would be there, a familiar face in the crowd. But speaking of Law, you really had to hurry—he’d be there soon.

Minutes later, the doorbell rang, just as you managed to pull yourself together. Grabbing whatever you might need, you hurried to the door and opened it, greeted by Law, who looked pretty much the same as always. His hair was a little neater than usual, but what really caught your eye was the extra helmet he was holding.

"Hey, you ready?" he asked, his tone as casual as ever. You nodded, quickly closing your apartment door behind you, and followed him outside…while your keys were still on the kitchen counter.

"Thanks again for giving me a ride," you said with a smile, tugging your jacket tighter against the chilly night air. Law shrugged, as if to say it was no big deal, and handed you the extra helmet.

"You know how to backpack?" he asked suddenly, and you blinked, confused.

Backpack?

Seeing your puzzled look, Law grinned and nodded toward his motorcycle. "Sitting behind someone on a motorcycle."

You couldn’t help but chuckle. "That’s kind of a cute term. But no, I haven’t done that before."

Law gave a small nod and stepped toward his bike. "No worries, it’s easy. I’ll show you."

He straddled the motorcycle first effortlessly, then waited as you climbed on behind him. He knew it took a little getting used to the first time, but thankfully, the ride wasn’t too long. “You can put your feet here,” he instructed, pointing to the foot pegs. “Hold on tight to me, and lean with me when we hit the curves. That’s all there is to it.”

You gave a quick nod and pulled on your helmet as Law did the same. Before you could adjust it, he turned around and snapped your visor shut, then clicked his own into place. You watched, before he fired the engine to life with a throaty roar.

Feeling a bit unsure, you leaned forward slightly, gripping the sides of his jacket with a tentative hold. Law noticed and stopped for a moment, then without warning, he reached for your hands and pulled them tighter around his waist, making you grip his chest and fall against his back. The sudden closeness made your heart race.

“I said tight,” he teased, his voice laced with amusement. “Don’t want you falling off.”

A light, embarrassed chuckle escaped you as you adjusted your grip, hugging him more securely. “Right, got it,” you murmured.

With a grin you could almost hear, Law revved the engine, and moments later, you were off.

“Come, this way,” Law said, nodding toward the faint sound of music already seeping into the air. You followed him while you two left the bike at a parking spot, feeling the buzz of anticipation as you approached the building. The party was tucked away in the basement, and as you descended the steps, the volume of the music grew louder.

The moment you stepped inside, you were hit by the heavy, stuffy air mixed with the distinct smells of alcohol and something you couldn’t quite place. The crowd was already thick, bodies swaying to the rhythm in the dark colorful lights, and despite the chaotic energy, there was something about the atmosphere that started to get you in the mood.

Law seemed familiar with the place, confidently navigating through the room. “Want to take off your jacket?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you replied, handing it over to him. When he pulled off his own leather jacket, though, something caught your eye. For the first time, you noticed the tattoos that stretched beyond his knuckles, trailing up his forearms. The black ink swirled in intricate patterns, with just a hint of it peeking from beneath the sleeve of his black T-shirt.

Suddenly, you felt a rush of heat. Was the room always this warm, or was it just you?

Law turned to you and gestured toward the bar, silently suggesting to get a drink. You nodded with a suddenly shy smile and followed him through the crowd. You had to admit, the party was surprisingly well-organized. The lighting, the music, the setup—everything looked pretty impressive, especially the bar. Apparently, the engineering students knew how to throw a party.

When you reached the bar, a young woman with dark, curly hair held back by a bright yellow headband greeted you with a warm smile. Her eyes landed on you first, then shifted to Law.

“Hey, Law! Glad you could make it!” she said cheerfully.

“Pleasure's mine, Ikkaku,” Law replied, giving her a friendly smile. It was clear they knew each other. You stood there, a little shy, but smiled politely.

“Oh, hi! I’m Ikkaku! I don’t think we’ve met before,” the woman said, extending a hand toward you. You shook it and introduced yourself, instantly being taking in by her radiating smile.

“Y/N, nice to meet you.”

Law watched the exchange, a small smile tugging at his lips. He wasn’t too worried about you meeting Ikkaku. Unlike Shachi and Penguin, who could be a bit much at times, Ikkaku was a breath of fresh air. She radiated confidence and had a feisty side that Law respected very much.

“So, what can I get you two?” Ikkaku asked, leaning forward with a grin. “First drink’s on the house.”

“You got the northern vodka by any chance?” Law asked, leaning slightly forward with a casual air. Ikkaku’s grin widened, clearly in on it. Of course she had it, especially since Shachi had specifically brought it for the party. He’d stashed it under the bar, trusting Ikkaku to keep an eye on it and only serve it to close friends. After all, it wasn’t cheap or easy to come by.

“Sure do. With soda?” she asked.

“Yes, please, but for the love of god, mix the drink like a human this time,” Law said, causing Ikkaku to laugh along.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she teased, shaking her head with a playful grin as she turned toward you. “And for you, Y/N?”

You placed your order, and she got to work, carefully mixing both drinks. As promised, she kept it reasonable, not trying to drown either of you in alcohol. Law kept an eye on her as she poured, just to be sure she didn’t pull any tricks. The memory of getting absolutely trashed on the first he came here flashed in his mind—along with the unpleasant experience of throwing up into his helmet. He was careful not to repeat that disaster tonight.

With your drinks, you both decided to move to a quieter table, away from the crowd. Setting your glasses down, you slipped into an easy rhythm of conversation.

“So, you said your friends were here too?” you asked, leaning in a bit closer.

Law hummed in response, casually leaning back as his eyes scanned the crowd. His long legs stretched out below the table, brushing your knee ever so slightly.

“Yeah,” he said, finally nodding towards a corner of the room. “See the guy over there trying—and failing—to juggle the beer pong balls? That’s Shachi. He’s studying engineering, good friends with Ikkaku, the bartender.” His gaze shifted to another spot. “And that’s Penguin, the guy in the beanie. You’ve met him before, right? We live together.”

You chuckled at the sight of Shachi fumbling with the beer pong balls. “Penguin seemed pretty nice when I met him. Shachi, though… definitely can’t juggle.”

“Nope,” Law said, grinning as he took a sip of his drink. His eyes drifted back to you, and for a moment, he found himself quietly studying your face. It suddenly hit him how stunning you looked tonight, the soft light from the party casting a warm glow over your features. The way your eyes sparkled when you laughed, or even just how you looked at him—it was captivating. He found himself lingering in the moment longer than usual.

Why was his heart racing suddenly?

You broke his trance by asking, “Kind of in a mood of beer pong, are you good at it?”

It caught him off guard a bit as he came back to reality, but only for a second. A playful grin spread across his face when he heard your suggestion. Was that a challenge?

“Maybe. Wanna find out and lose?” His voice had that teasing, competitive edge. Law could get fiercely competitive with games like these, a trait he knew well enough to admit. He didn’t just want to win—he needed to.

“Oh, I don’t plan on losing,” you said boldly, ready for a challenge.

Law raised an eyebrow, the spark of competition fully lit and enjoying your bold anticipation. “Alright, game on,” he said, pushing his chair back and standing up, already mentally preparing to take the win—or go down swinging.

You and Law made your way to the beer pong table tucked away in the corner, where Shachi was struggling to pick up the ping pong balls. He kept fumbling, his coordination long gone thanks to the alcohol he’d consumed. Law, amused by the scene, stood back with a lazy smile and simply watched his friend, leaving you to step in.

“Here, let me help,” you said, handing the ball directly to Shachi. He blinked up at you in surprise, clearly thrown off by your pretty face. But when he spotted Law next to you, the gears in his foggy mind slowly turned. As much as his drunken state allowed, he pieced things together.

"Law! There you are!" Shachi greeted, pulling him into a sloppy, brotherly hug, clapping him on the shoulder. As he did, he leaned in closer to him and grinned, whispering into his ear, “You didn’t tell me she was hot.”

Law rolled his eyes at Shachi’s comment, a flicker of both annoyance and amusement crossing his face, but he didn’t bother to respond. Shachi, still riding the high of his drunken state, flashed you a wide playful grin.

"You guys wanna play?" he asked, already grabbing the cups with a clumsy enthusiasm.

You shared a glance with Law, and something unspoken passed between you, before you stepped closer to the table.

The game kicked off. You helped arrange the plastic cups, filling them with something light, cautious not to overdo it too soon. Law handed you the first ball with a subtle smirk, one that made your pulse quicken. He was watching you intently, his gaze lingering just a bit longer than necessary as you lined up your shot.

With a flick of your wrist, the ball sailed effortlessly into the cup. You grinned, teasing him with a playful look. “Try to keep up,” you taunted lightly, savoring the first little victory.

Law raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into that faint, knowing smile. “Alright,” he said smoothly, before taking his first cup in one clean motion, his eyes never leaving yours as he emptied it.

For a moment your mind went blank, those stormy eyes locking with yours so intensely completely threw you off guard. You had a feeling Law knew what he was doing.

Shachi, playing the part of an overly enthusiastic referee, was more of a distraction for Law than anything else. He cheered only you on and did his best to throw Law off, witch loud coughs and "Look over there"s.

Every time Law stepped up to take his shot, there was an obvious tension in the air. He wasn’t just throwing the ball; he was challenging you with each toss, silently daring you to keep pace. And while you landed a few solid shots, Law’s precision was undeniable. Even when he had to hold on on the table, the alcohol clearly starting to catch up with him, he still managed to sink the ball into your cups with impressive accuracy.

By the time your side was completely wiped out, Law still had three cups standing. You huffed in mock frustration, but deep down, the competitiveness had only made things more fun.

Shachi clapped his hands together, grinning like an idiot. “Rules say you’ve gotta finish the winner’s cups!” he teased.

You sighed defeated, “Fine, Law. You win.”

As you reached for one of his cups, though, Law’s hand shot out, stopping you. His fingers brushed against yours, sending a small jolt of electricity through you. He held your gaze for a moment, before he spoke up. “Let’s share it. I’d rather not have to carry you home wasted.”

The teasing edge in his voice made your stomach flip, but the offer itself was unexpected. Law was competitive by nature, and Shachi knew he usually liked to rub his victories in. This time, though, he was...different.

You accepted his offer with a small smile, taking one of the cups while Shachi gleefully grabbed the last. Shachi, clearly impressed, raised an eyebrow at Law. “Wow, Law. Didn’t expect you to go soft on her.”

Law just shrugged, his eyes flicking to you briefly before he downed the rest of his drink. “She made it a decent game,” he said with a casual smirk, though the look he gave you was anything but casual.

“Another round?” Shachi asked, grinning as he set down his cup, already eager for more.

You shook your head with a soft laugh, feeling the alcohol making your head spin just a little. Even Law seemed to be feeling it, though his cool demeanor didn’t falter. He looked at you, the corner of his mouth lifting in a slight, teasing smile. “Maybe next time.”

As the night continued, Shachi separated from you two, wanting to go on a dance battle with Penguin. You watched him stumble away with an amused grin, and leaned against the beer pong table. "He's pretty fun."

Law leaned beside you, arms crossed, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, he’s chaotic, but he’s great." It was something Law probably wouldn’t admit when sober. He valued his friends more than anything, but he wasn’t the type to be openly affectionate.

“How did you guys meet?” you asked, seizing the moment. Law seemed more relaxed than usual, probably thanks to the alcohol and the lively party atmosphere. His eyes remained fixed on his friends, who were currently tearing up the dance floor, before he turned back to you.

“We’re childhood friends,” he replied, rather casually.

Your eyes widened slightly, a warm feeling spreading through you. There was something undeniably sweet about hearing that. Law, already sensing where this was heading, scrunched up his face and quickly looked away.

“Don’t—” he began, but it was too late.

“Aw, that’s adorable.”

“God, here we go,” Law groaned, rubbing his eyes in mock exasperation. But despite his feigned annoyance, a grin tugged at his lips.

"Sorry, I had to, you’re so secretive it’s nice to get to know more about you." you said with a grin. "Hey, how about we play a question game? Taking turns?”

The suggestion piqued Law's interest. It was a good idea, and honestly, he was relieved that you came up with activities instead of him. He wasn't the type to take the lead with things like this.

"Like 'Never Have I Ever'?" Law asked, thinking of the drinking game. You hesitated for a moment before nodding, even though you knew it would probably loosen you up more than you intended.

After returning to the bar and ordering some diluted shots from Ikkaku—not wanting to black out too soon—you both sat back down at the table. Law took the first turn, thoughtfully considering his question. He didn’t want to embarrass you; it was just a fun opportunity to get to know you better.

"Never have I ever… cheated on an exam," he said with a smirk.

As you lifted your glass to your lips, Law shot you a mock judgmental look, causing you to laugh.

"What? The professor left the damn room for twenty minutes."

"You don't have to justify it," he chuckled. "I didn't say anything." He watched you down your drink, his eyes lingering on your lips.

"Alright, my turn," you said, thinking for a moment. "Never have I ever… slept with my ex."

Law lifted his glass, and this time, you gave him a playful judgmental look. He shrugged before he downed his shot.

"What? I'm not proud of it," he admitted with a wry smile.

"Why did you do it, then?" you teased, leaning in closer with a grin.

Law scrunched his eyebrows and sighed, rubbing his face as if the memory itself drained him. "No clue. It was a bad decision, and I’m definitely not making that mistake again. Not with her."

His tone made you even more curious, and you mentally noted that his relationship with his ex hadn’t been the best. You couldn’t help but wonder what had happened between them—and what kind of girl Law had dated in the first place. He was so guarded when sober, often keeping his walls up. Yet here he was, relaxed and open, at least for the moment.

"Okay, my turn again… never have I ever… stalked someone online before a date." Law asked, and leaned back in his seat.

You acted without thinking, your hand already lifting the glass. But as realization hit, you froze mid-motion and looked at Law with wide eyes. He raised an eyebrow and leaned in closer, clearly intrigued by your reaction.

You remembered how you’d stalked Law’s Instagram before your first study session together at the café, and the embarrassment started creeping in. But it was too late now—you downed the drink and set the glass back on the table.

"Why did you hesitate?" Law asked, narrowing his eyes at you suspiciously.

"What? I don’t know what you mean,"

"Cut the crap, tell me,"

The alcohol made your tongue loose, and you couldn’t help but admit the truth. "Fine... I may have, possibly, looked you up online before we met for the first time. Maybe. Just... a little."

Law leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this. Being a private person, he let the silence stretch between you two, deliberately creating a sense of pressure. It felt like an interrogation.

You shifted uncomfortably. "I just... Look, you were a random delivery guy. I didn’t trust that you were actually a med student. You even know where I live, and remember how you picked up my uni ID?"

Law listened, nodding slowly, his expression unreadable.

"I kind of panicked," you continued, running a hand through your hair. "I thought maybe you were just pretending to be in med school to... I don’t know, lure me in. Since you knew I was studying medicine." You sighed, feeling a bit ridiculous now. "Sorry, I was just anxious."

You braced yourself, half expecting Law to lecture you—or, worst-case scenario, leave the table and leave you sitting there alone at the party. But what you didn’t expect was for him to give you an amused smile, followed by a low chuckle.

"Smart girl," he said, surprising you. "Makes sense. Anyway, your turn."

"Wait, you don’t mind?" you asked, blinking in confusion.

"Probably would have done the same if i was a chick living alone and inviting a random stranger to meet up."

"Wow you make me look like a loser." You laughed an rolled your eyes, to which Law shook his head with a grin. "Just laying out the facts, now go on, your turn."

You continued your game with Law, enjoying the lighthearted fun, until eventually, nature called. All that liquid had to leave your system, and you asked Law where the bathroom was. He motioned for you to follow him, leading you to a small unisex bathroom. He waited outside while you quickly headed in.

As you finished up, you suddenly became aware of how dizzy you felt from the alcohol. You were still able to walk and talk without slurring, but your head was spinning badly. Gripping the sink, you took a moment to steady yourself, trying to calm the whirlwind in your mind. The dim bass from the party music in the background only seemed to make the dizziness worse.

Meanwhile, outside the bathroom, Law leaned against the wall, checking his phone. You’d been inside for a while, and he was starting to get concerned. He debated whether to check on you, but worry quickly got the better of him. Knocking gently on the door, he called out, “Y/N, hey, you okay in there?”

He listened closely but didn’t hear a response. Anxiety bubbled up inside him, and he knocked again, louder this time. “Y/N?”

Finally, the doorknob turned, and you opened the door, holding your head. "My head is spinning. Give me a sec," you mumbled, stumbling slightly as you leaned back against the wall for support, slowly sliding down against it.

Law was quick to react. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him for privacy, and crouched down next to you. "You need some water?" he asked, his voice calm but filled with concern.

You shook your head slightly, the dizziness still overpowering your senses. Maybe the drinking game after beer pong hadn’t been the brightest idea.

He watched you for a moment, taking in the way you sat there, trying to compose yourself. Silence fell between you two, but this time it was comfortable. You leaned your head back against the wall, Law sitting next to you, mimicking the gesture.

Your gaze drifted back to him, and as if by fate, your eyes met. The dim lighting softened everything, but his grey eyes still seemed to cut through the shadows, intense and focused. He really was something, you thought, as your gaze unconsciously dropped to his lips.

Without realizing it, you began to inch closer, noticing how Law didn’t pull back. In fact, he seemed to lean in as well, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. Your heart raced, the moment stretching longer, making it almost unbearable.

Law swallowed, hesitant for a split second before his hand lifted, gently cupping your chin. His touch was careful, as if he was afraid of breaking you.

The space between the two of you disappeared, you could feel his breath on your skin as he tilted his head slightly, bringing your lips closer to his. Unsure of what to do, but not wanting to stop, you let the moment happen.

The second your lips touched, your eyes fluttered shut.

At first, the kiss was light, almost tentative—neither of you rushing it. But then, you moved your lips softly against his, and Law followed, matching your pace. The hesitation faded, and the connection deepened as you both let yourselves get lost in the moment.

Laws hand traveled from you chin to the back of your head, suddenly grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling you in closer. You grabbed his T-shirt instinctively and let the kiss get more heated. Your breath was going heavy, desperate for air, yet neither of your two wanted to break the kiss.

Without pulling apart, you managed to somewhat clumsily get on your feet. Law walked you back against the sink, his lips still attached to yours, as he grabbed your thighs and effortlessly lifted you up. Sitting at the sink was pretty uncomfortable, but your mind was busy with other things. Your hands traveled down from his chest, to his belt, blindly trying to loosen it impatiently.

And Law seemed to be on the same page, he let his inked hands disappear under your top, fumbling with the clip of your bra. The air was thick with tension as you two made out and tried to rip each others clothes off.

Laws zipper was already open and his belt hung lose on his jeans, while he was kissing your neck sloppily and pushed your top upwards, trying to get more of your sweet flesh.

While you two were in the heat of the moment, you completely forgot that you occupied the only existing bathroom at the party. The impatient knock of someone at the door reminded you what you were doing.

"Hey, I gotta piss, hurry up!"

Both of you froze, feeling like being caught in the act.

Law sighed in frustrating and let his head hang low, while you pinched the bridge of your nose. Great, getting cock blocked by a random stranger.

"In a fucking minute!" Law shouted back, and slowly let go of you, letting you hop of the sink. Both of you adjusted your clothes quickly and gave each other a disappointed look. It was great while it lasted.

Law walked ahead, swinging the door open with a bit more force than necessary, revealing the unfortunate person who had been banging on the door. The guy stood there, confused, clearly piecing together what had been happening inside. Law gave him a cold glare, making it obvious that he was pissed off and didn't really care the guy probably knew that you two were making out in the bathroom. You, on the other hand, followed Law out, feeling too embarrassed to meet the guy’s eyes.

As you walked away, still flustered, you spoke up quietly, "Hey, I’m still feeling a bit dizzy... I think I might call it a night." You rubbed your arm shyly, not wanting to seem like you were bailing, but the dizziness was still lingering mixed with exhaustion.

Law nodded in understanding, brushing a hand through his hair as he sighed. "Yeah, let’s leave," he agreed, his tone softer now. He placed a hand on your back gently, guiding you away from the noise of the party, and the two of you headed for the exit, leaving the chaotic atmosphere behind.

>>ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 6 - ʟᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴏꜱᴇ (n.sfw)

tag list: @mars-mizuko @tadomikiku (Comment to be added 🖤)

123 notes · View notes

honourablejester · 9 months ago

Text

It’s weird how mundanely different everyone’s experience of ‘the sea’ is.

I remember as a young kid reading one of the Famous Five books and the characters talk about ‘swimming out past the waves’ for a more leisurely swim. And I was in absolute awe of this, because the beach I swam at as a kid is basically an inlet between two headlands, it has an incredibly long gradual incline up towards the beach, and the tide drives water directly in. The difference between high and low tides is like quarter of a mile, and it’s waves all the way up. So you could swim past the waves when the tide is all the way out, sure, maybe, but if the tide is in? That’s like quarter to half a mile of a hard swim just to get to your ‘swim’. So I was looking at these kids in this book thinking ‘wow, you guys are hardcore’.

And then we started swimming at a different beach much later on, and it basically has no waves. It’s fully sheltered in the lee of a headland from the main currents/weather for the area, and it’s flat as a pond. Going out past the waves involves wading out five feet. So, ah. Depending on the geography of the beach the Famous Five were on? They might well have been hardcore. Or they might have had 15ft to go to get past the breakers.

I’m thinking about this because I’ve been watching clips of Bondi Rescue on youtube, and Bondi appears to be a surfer beach with big surf and several permanent to semi-permanent rip currents. And there are people going out in it who can’t swim, and they’re paddling around in rip currents in those inflatable pool rings, you know the pool flamingo things? And it baffles me. But then I remember that … well, everyone’s experience of ‘the sea’ is different. Maybe their home beach was flat as a pond because it was sheltered by a headland, and those pool things are perfectly feasible there.

I still would never in a million years go anywhere near the sea in them myself. You can’t swim in those. They pin your arms up. Yeah, you float, but you also get picked up by any motion in the water whatsoever and put wherever it wants you and you have no say in the matter. I’ve been in a rip once, with a boogie board, and you can feel them pulling you. It’s terrifying. I could feel it pulling the board out along its line away from me. Thankfully I could just swim sideways out of it, but for a while there before I knew how wide it was I thought I’d have to let the board go just so it wouldn’t pull me with it. So yeah, I get the desire for a floatation device, but I’d prefer one that a) lets me swim, and b) that I can get out of/let go of if it’s pulling me places.

I’ve been in a lot of seas. I’ve been in rocky inlets with big swells from the water just sloshing around between the rocks. I’ve been picked up and fully thrown up onto a cliff by a wave in one of those. I’ve been in nearly motionless water when you can basically lie on your back and let yourself drift because the water’s not going to carry you far. I’ve been swimming in a storm surge on that childhood beach with 12ft waves charging up quarter of a mile of beach and it was amazing, and relatively safe because you were going to get thrown in, not out. I’ve been caught in a rip in the most mild looking sea you can imagine and been absolutely terrified. I’ve been on a beach with a big long parallel sandbar submerged offshore, where you’re basically swimming in something that very much wants to be a shallow lagoon one day, but if you take one step off the far side of the sandbar you plunge into 30ft deep water.

‘The sea’ is not a thing, really. Every sea is a different sea. Every beach is a different beach. They all have their own rules and habits and peccadillos. Never assume it’ll be the same.

Just. As a general rule, though? I still wouldn’t use a pool ring in moving water.

#ocean #swimming #my childhood #the sea

143 notes · View notes

neverenoughmarauders · 3 months ago

Text

Sirius' big mistake

I have to ask the same question as @goldenlionprince: Am I sorry for this? Yes, yes I am. It's that damn plot again... So demanding...

As you will no doubt remember from the stress/heartbreak @goldenlionprince brought to you in the last ficlet, Sirius and James have had an argument. This piece picks up shortly after Sirius leaves James' flat. All of this is part of @sorenphelps wonderful The Bodyguard AU.

‘You’re fired.’

The words still ring in Sirius’ ears as he leaves James’ flat. That evening, Sirius doesn’t go to his own place, which he has barely set foot in these last few months anyways. Instead, he walks the streets of London until sunlight. It’s not like he needs much sleep, and the little sleep he should get would have escaped him. This way, he hopes that by the time he collapses into bed, his head will be quiet. Quiet and free of James Potter.

Fired?

James had some bloody nerve to fire him. It was all the more infuriating for James’ suggestion—nay, accusation—that Sirius cared more about his job than James. James was his bloody job. For all his intelligence, his employer—his former employer, Sirius corrected with another surge of anger—was really thick sometimes.

Thinking he might get some breakfast, Sirius walked into PAUL, only then realising that he’d walked into the branch which was conveniently located by the cathedral by the same name. A sandwich (no cranberries or turkey this time, thank you very much) and coffee in hand, he took a seat outside. This afforded him a clear view to Temple Bar. They used to display the heads of traitors on spikes here, and Sirius finds that matches his mood perfectly.

However, once Sirius has let the food sink a little, and the coffee has helped clear his mind, he realises that his behaviour is, perhaps, a little unprofessional. James still needs a bodyguard. Sirius isn’t petty. He will keep James safe until Kingsley can step in. In time, James should be able to find a more permanent replacement.

Postponing his journey home Sirius therefore heads for the underground. He’s not a big fan of taking the tube, but he can’t afford to leave James like this for much longer. Thankfully, James is not a morning person, so Sirius doesn’t expect him to have left for work yet. He will find James at his flat. His own bed—the one that is a long, safe distance from James Potter—will just have to wait.

Maybe Sirius is less alert than usual, his mind preoccupied with the idea of seeing James again after their fallout. Maybe there was nothing that could have prepared him as he pressed his finger to the keypad. After all, there are only three people in the world who can operate this. Only three sets of fingerprints allow access to James’ flat. So when the door swings open, Sirius is prepared to see James, probably bent over his laptop sending a couple of emails before he leaves for work. What he is not expecting is to see the flat turned upside down. The sofa standing on its side, the table now only splinters, shards of glass from the vase breaking under his feet as he enters the scene of a crime.

What crime though?

Sirius is trained for this, conditioned to keep his cool: his heart steady, his mind clear, his body alert, his eyes observant. He knows he is looking for two things: assailants still roaming the flat, ready to attack, and a body—gravely injured or dead. Everything else are second-order concerns. Yet, he’s frozen, because his eyes refuse to search for James’ lifeless corpse.

James can’t be dead.

Sirius’ last words cannot have been the last thing he told the man that he - It just can’t!

‘I’ll be surprised if you survive until tomorrow.’

Why had he said that? What had he done?

Telling himself that he can push away the all-consuming fear, Sirius sets to work. If his hands are trembling, his vision blurred, his head racing and his body numb; if he stumbles ever so slightly on the upturned corner of the rug, nobody is there to see it.

Pushing open the door to James’ bedroom, his heart thumping violently against his ribs, his first thought is to scan the bed and floor. There is no body. Sirius lets out a breath he did not know he had been holding.

Yet, this is the start of the catastrophic events. James was sleeping when they came for him, that much is obvious. Two people, Sirius guesses, and they made one fatal mistake. They underestimated his tech nerd. The crutch on the floor tells Sirius that James grabbed the first thing within reach. James’ leg had long since healed but the latest run, the race up the stairs—and subsequent activity—had rendered it too sore and stiff. So they’d left the crutch within arm's length, just in case.

Crutch to the crotch, Sirius guesses, and had the situation not ended the way it must have, Sirius would have laughed. It was so typical James. But what else would have incapacitated guy number one, allowing James to jump out of bed and… what? Ram the other guy. It’s all educated guesses, but this happens to be Sirius’ area of expertise. In his mind’s eye, he can picture James, who would now be free of the two men. James would have rushed into the living room, wanting to get to the entrance. Sirius would have been able to tell James that the Death Eaters would have left a third man by the door, to prevent an escape should things not go to plan.

What did James do? He grabbed the vase, Sirius realises, chucked it at the person by the door. It was a spirited attempt, but even James must have realised it was futile.

James stood no chance. The two other Death Eaters would have recovered by now. Still, the state of the living room tells Sirius that James did not go down without a fight.

Of course not, James had been fighting for his life. He had been forced into a corner he was not equipped to navigate out from. This had been a situation those around James had predicted could happen. It had been what had driven James, desperate to be free and to live his life, to hire Sirius to begin with.

There was no more life to be led for James Potter. His bodyguard had failed him.

‘I’ll be surprised if you survive until tomorrow.’

All James had wanted was to be with him, and Sirius had blown him off… and left him to die. Because James is dead—or will be very soon. Sirius knows this. Death Eaters only ever take people for two purposes: either they have a use for them, or they need to get rid of them. James has been a relentless pain in their arse—the way only James can be—for months. They needed him gone.

Sirius staggers towards the bedroom again, because a voice in his numb brain is telling him there’s something of relevance there. It is hard, impossible even, to make anything out because his mind is filled with images of James.

James is grinning at him from the sofa, no longer upturned, and tells him to take his time in the shower, laptop balanced on his lap, his bad knee propped up on pillows. James flops down on the sofa next to him, wanting to interrogate- sorry, to question him, and they end up talking about dino nuggets. James, unable to sleep, joins him on the sofa, leans his body against him and later kisses Sirius.

Sirius had let James fall asleep that night, after they’d made out like teenagers. What he should have done was to undress him, have him right then and there, kiss every inch of his body and tell him just how much Sirius was in love with him. Back then he had still had a chance to tell James this. Now that is an opportunity he will never have again.

New memories assault Sirius more forcefully still as he re-enters the bedroom. James trying to hide his attempts to get at Voldemort; James wanting to show Sirius Rosier Sr being bullied by his wife; James and him, a tangle of sweat and rain and limbs and moans and kisses.

James cannot be gone.

Sirius is barely aware of making it to the en-suite. The ham and cheese sandwich from earlier forces its way out and into the loo. It’s a long time since anything made him vomit. It takes far more than a crushed skull or intestines that have been torn from the body to make Sirius be sick. Yet this is more than any man should be asked to stomach.

For a few moments longer, Sirius lets himself feel the pain. A howl escapes him, like an injured dog. Sirius Black is wounded and in ways he is not sure he can recover from.

James doesn’t even know his name. Didn’t know his name! A sob escapes Sirius as he makes the mental correction. James didn’t know that Sirius loved him. So fucking much.

‘I’ll be surprised if you survive until tomorrow.’

Another howl or sob or scream—Sirius isn’t quite sure which—escapes his lips. Sirius did this. He left James. And the last thing he did to the most important person in his life was to taunt him.

Please, Sirius finds himself begging there on the bathroom floor. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t be dead. Please, James, know that I love you.

Please forgive me.

But there’s nobody to hear his prayers. James will never hear him beg. Sirius had sworn it would be so, and now it had come true.

No more words. No more laughter. It is too cruel that Sirius will never hear James’ laugh again.

Nothing can undo the damage he has inflicted. James is gone. They’ve taken him, and in this moment, somewhere in London, they are either killing him, or disposing of his body.

Sirius Black has failed James Potter. There is nothing Sirius can do now. Or…

The bed.

Something stirs in Sirius’ mind. James was lying in his bed when they got to him. That means he couldn’t have opened the door to his murderers. Yet there is no sign of the door being broken or tampered with.

There are only three people with access to that door.

Sirius mind travelled back to where he’d started his morning. Temple bar. The gate of the traitors. He has a head to spike; a rat to sniff out; a man to punish cruelly. Inflicting pain upon the small, watery-eyed man may remove some of the near suffocating guilt; some of Sirius’ desire to hurt himself for having left James alone to be taken and -. No, Sirius needs to keep his eyes on the target. He has only one job now that the world has lost all meaning. That job is to hunt down the traitor Peter Pettigrew.

#james potter #Sirius Black #Prongsfoot #The Bodyguard AU #Bambibelle #I am sorry guys!#Sirius Black needs a hug #James Potter needs Sirius Black to pull himself together #Fanfic

41 notes · View notes

bumblepony · 6 months ago

Text

Birthday Fic Recs!

So it's my birthday, y'all, and on this momentous day, I want to share my favorite fics from all my favorite authors and friends in this amazing fandom! Because you all are such wonderful people, and you've all inspired me to become a better writer, and I can't thank you all enough. So here is my list in no particular order. Some of these may be duplicates of fics I've recommended in the past, if so roll with it because I'm always happy to share amazing stuff again.

i know you by heart by @sixhours - Joel and Ellie settle into their new lives in Jackson but it's not the easiest transition. Thankfully Jackson has a counselor to help with that. AKA the gay TLOU/Prospect crossover you didn't know you needed.

A woman is a changeling by @treadlightlymydarlinggirl - (Tess lives) and what happens after!

back and forth, up and down by @lauronk - (more times ellie & joel barely missed each other in the qz)

our hearts are heavy burdens (we shouldn't have to bear alone) by @ameerawrites - Maria and Tommy's engagement story, a prequel to "Not Alone"

Fortunate Son by @hypnotisedfireflies - Maria Sinclair agrees to help Tommy Miller, a probationary resident at Jackson, with a life-changing opportunity.

Next of Kin by @probssomethingorother - The day Joel becomes a dad and how he deals with the sudden weight of fatherhood. Slight canon divergence where his wife dies instead of leaving. Big whumps ahead.

Mary Poppins ain't got nothing on me by @barlowstreet - Tommy POV again! This time, he's watching Ellie while Joel has surgery. Ellie is not fond of this plan.

collaborators by @becomethesun - Sam and Henry live. Adventures and found family bonding ensue on the journey from Kansas City to Jackson and beyond.

What Would Your Superpower Be? by blue_calico on AO3 - With a storm taking its toll on Ellie as they pass through Indiana, Joel reluctantly lets them stay with a family who stirs up pain he's tried hard to bury. Still, he knows how to be a good dad. He just can't yet see it.

Lost in the Woods by @cardigains - How digging up what's buried in the past brings about consequences in the present. (The Private Investigator!AU nobody asked for.) (I did! I asked for it! I'm here for it!)

Right Where We Belong by cauldron_zeta on AO3 - Frank has upheaved his life to move to almost the middle of nowhere. His closest neighbor isn't really a people person, but Frank has always liked a challenge.

just babes being dudes and flat on my face then back in the race and my cow, your cow, our cow by @ciaconnaa - Sorry this are all amazing and I just could not pick which one was my favorite!

Mute Joel by @captainredspade - An Ellie and Joel drabble that may or may not turn to something more in the future. It's based off the au idea of Joel being mute, and if he and Ellie met a different way than they did in canon.

Compassionate Friends by @mildredellie - Ellie & Joel meet at a grief support group they were both forced to attend.

cosmic oddities by @deervsheadlights - Turning a clan of two into a clan of four and asking the very important, albeit unhinged question: What if space dad and apocalypse dad were Weird About Each Other?

Taste your beating heart by @finnelfin - Tess's traveling companions are keeping secrets. The Werewolf AU I never thought I needed.

in search of some hope by @dancingonmoonbeams - Tommy’s story, from leaving Boston to finding Jackson to him and Joel finding each other again.

show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time by @eedsknees - Cry to the Chest (featuring Ellie with endometriosis trying to ignore her pain until she can't anymore!)

Mother by @liveandletcry23 - The Millers have a demon problem.

expect(ing)(ations) by @penandinkprincess - (set about ten years after the original storyline) (ellie, now grown and married, decides she wants to have a baby so she can pass her immunity on to her kid)

Dinosaur by @femmefacetious - Joel and Ellie deal with some stupid cold temperatures and assorted shenanigans (the not-fun kind) in and around the town of...Dinosaur, CO.

we could walk forever, walkin' on the moon and what matters most by @boopernatural - I had to pick both because they are some of my favorites!

For Your Entertainment by @manicparadox - A strip club AU. Bill and Frank meet at The Bou-Peek where Frank is a stripper.

Future Proof by Capricordinary on AO3 - Joel is somehow transported into the past. He makes it his mission to find four-year-old Ellie, reunite his family, and find a safe place for them in the Wyoming wilderness

Most Likely Occupation by Joschmo on AO3 - Joel is a single dad working long hours in a difficult, painful occupation. He does what he needs to do to keep going, or at least that's what he tells himself. After the outbreak, things...escalate.

ily, imu, im sry (i love you, i miss you, im sorry) by @mariatesstruther - in which Joel and Tess haven't spoken for ten years, but are reintroduced for their daughters’ english project. Sarah and Ellie misinterpret the situation quite a bit.

To Have Loved Someone by Joels_revolver on AO3 - Ellie is stuck in a modern Jackson now and neither she nor Joel have any idea how to get her back. Ellie has no choice but to confront her demons, and Joel— Well, he has a few demons of his own to deal with.

dodors (and other birds) by @ketchupchipsaregross - How Tess and Joel accidentally restarted parenting in their 40s.

let all your damage damage me by @electricbluebutterflies - Assorted prompt fills and shorter ficlets, generally unconnected and variable ratings. Tess/Joel.

Of Artists and Architects by @emilylawsons - A Cordyceps-Free Tessjoel AU

creature fear by @marceltheshellwithflipflopson - The first time Joel protects Sarah from an infected, it changes his life forever. The first time Joel protects Ellie from an infected, it feels just like it did twenty years ago. Even if he swears up and down that the kid is just cargo.

I have to break this up. It's too big. So look for the next one in a little bit.

#tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #ellie williams #tommy miller #tess servopoulos #maria miller #ao3 #birthday

69 notes · View notes

springsylph · 1 year ago

Text

bodyguard.

[bodyguard!john price x rookie actress!reader]

extension of this blurb. || minors, do not interact.

read on ao3

this was supposed to be a one-off thing but uh. my hand slipped? had to cut down the "price wouldn't do that" monster with my "i can do what i want" sword, and we got 3k of an unedited brain dump that i typed on my phone at six in the morning. also my first time writing something for price! woo!

He pulls out the crown on his watch, begins to twist and twist so that the dials can begin their inevitable rotation. “You know what time it is?"

Yelling secures you your first big project.

You can’t pay those bills until I land a job. A real job.

You’re almost certain your agent thinks you’re throwing a tantrum, and it leaves a coarse grit in your molars. You don’t like to pick fights. Hate it, really. But pushes are usually succeeded by shoves, and you can’t afford to get knocked out of the ring this time around.

The worst they can do is say no, right?

Thankfully, one yes is all you need to beg for. Your chariot arrives in the shape of a surprisingly low-budget rom-com, in simple terms. You and your C-list costar (flanked by a squeaky clean track record, thank god) are swept up in a soundless spiral of table reads and filming and wrapping before you can really, truly process.

But a warden stands guard at the eye of your perfect storm. John Price, assigned to you through your agency without so much as a proper word.

(“Squeaky clean,” apparently, didn’t take a history of overzealous stalkers into account.)

The peephole to your dilapidated apartment can barely contain him. blocks him—or attempts to do so—like a child might shield their sandcastle from the pulsing tide. Only, you think the tide might be more forgiving. He’s rooted in place, made harsher under the cracked fluorescent bulbs out in the hallway. They hum along with him. Faint, unless your breathing stills.

You’d feel a little more at ease if he were actually ex-military; the scraps of information you’ve been fed tell you that he’s been discharged, but you don’t believe it. Not for a second. You hadn’t been given much else apart from that and a face, but you could put together that he was disgustingly overqualified—not that you were complaining, though. Not yet.

You watch as John Price—Price?—gazes with a deceiving sort of apathy toward the end of the hall, then to the other, and back to the other end in three smooth seconds.

You think he’s seeing things till the apartment two doors down produces a tenant from its depths and price is turning, warding the disturbance off with an easy mornin’ and a wave of a large hand. He says nothing when they shuffle off awkwardly without a response, and the slow crawl of his opposite hand away from a flash of metal at his hip draws your pupil like a magnet.

It’s then that you note the suspiciously white shirt—rolled up to his elbows, tucked neatly into dark denim. hands tucked into pockets. Beard trimmed. Everything not protected by the skin on his body squared away just so, with just enough of his bulk on display to prompt that second spike of wariness.

A meticulous problem, then.

You peel yourself away from the door after an inhale and swing it open regardless.

The smell of tobacco and cologne hits your nose like a hammer the moment the door hits the bolt behind you, but you recover the feeling in your knees quickly. The fisheye lens doesn’t quite do him justice—you have to look up a bit to take another quick scan, cheeks cramping with the sudden momentum of your smile.

“I don’t see a bible or a pamphlet, so I’m assuming you’re not here to preach?”

The joke doesn’t fall flat, but it does sail into one of the weaker bulbs before it shuts off with a buzz.

“…Captain Price, right?”

His eyes crinkle with a hint of what might be a grin. Under different circumstances, maybe. “Right on the mark. A pleasure to finally meet you, Ma’am.” But that thrum of irritation is there, as is the narrowing of his eyes when you extend your hand in greeting. “Just Price’ll do though.”

Hm.

He reaches up to fix his beanie just above his brow before giving your hand a firm shake. Definitely military. And hot as a furnace. You’re more than a little dizzy when he pulls back to check his watch, the inside of your wrist now raw from the grazing of a fingernail.

You can feel the skin he’s taken with him when he looks you in the eyes. Assessing. You don’t know why, but think you’ve won until he’s looking back down at his wrist.

He pulls out the crown on his watch, begins to twist and twist so that the dials can begin their inevitable rotation. “You know what time it is?”

Nine in the morning.

Or, at least it was thirty minutes ago.

“I—yeah. Lost track of time, sorry.” You scratch just under the collar of your shirt, straighten it out when the itch turns into a tingle you’re willing to overlook. You realize after an embarrassing beat that he’s probably asking for the actual time. “I sleep like a rock,” you add anyway. Your agency had actually given you three things, not two: a poorly put together profile, a face, and a meeting time.

It dawns on you now that a thirty minute “test of patience” with your back pressed to the door may not have been the way to go.

Price looks up, finally. Rolls his shoulders back as if to shed the pileup of gravity that’s compressed his spine in the half hour you’ve kept him waiting—and somehow, someway, seems to double the amount of space he takes up.

“That so,” he questions. Low in his throat, and a tad exasperated, because you’ve studied exasperation. Went into debt to have that understanding feel like a second skin. Which is why you observe, perplexed, as he gestures to the entryway. You think you feel your head nod, and he brushes past you to push through the door. “‘Nother habit we’ll have to kick.”

Any objections you might’ve had are killed in your throat the moment his prowl begins, and your socks catch on the scuffed linoleum as you flounder in after him.

The door slams back against the bolt while Price’s boots press the air out of your hardwood floors, squeals escaping with each heavy step. You squeak out a feeble excuse me alongside them once or twice, but to no avail. He can’t hear you, too intent on following some internal rhythm that takes him to the open window, the dusty cabinets, slipping fingers into the creases of a space you’re barely acquainted with yourself.

Something like nausea begins to bubble. You planned this. You’d planned out your introduction. Picked out your clothes, your shoes, where you’d grab coffee so you could build up your integrity and explain to him that you’re not looking to be coddled, he’d just get in the way. And now you’re wringing your hands, abject unease burning in a dense knot between your eyes while you figure out how to melt into the poorly hidden pile of dirty laundry.

There’s a delay in your processing, and you don’t start to catch up until Price finally slows down enough for you to realize he’s been talking.

He’s stooping over your dining room table, swiping a finger over his tongue before using it to card through old mail. “Real sorry ‘bout this, Ma’am. Not the most ideal introduction, I know, but we’re on a bit of a time crunch. Standard protocol—’m sure you know how it is, yeah?”

Price moves to turn over a stack of magazines on your dining table, and you wonder: were you supposed to know? You’re sure his question is rhetorical, and you’re certainly not inclined to answer. But something about the way it hits the water stains on your ceiling justifies the way he turns to look at you over his shoulder.

Concern. An uncut gem, plucked from some cavernous fissure that might be closer in proximity to hell than your own flesh and blood.

The crease between his brows deepens. “You have had security before, haven’t you?”

“Don’t get out much. I do my work, come right home.” You shrug, but your shoulders can’t seem to come back down. Perhaps this was why they’d put him on leave—he couldn’t do math.

You shuffle a bit in place, kick aside a ratty tennis ball left behind from one of your pet sitting stints. It hits your refrigerator and he’s still looking down at your feet, so you look with him.

—at the last two toes sticking out of your sock.

You rush to cover it with your other foot while Price sucks his teeth. He doesn’t move, hands still planted on the table, but each time he blinks his eyes are trained on something different.

Price lets out a sigh before he finally stands upright, perching his hands on his hips. “I'm surprised your people waited this long to call someone in. Right idiots they are, I’ll tell you that.”

Your people. You wrap your arms around your middle, pinch the fabric of your shirt between your fingers.

“I can't really blame them,” you say after a moment. Tip your chin up, a last ditch attempt at salvaging what little of your farce is left to cover yourself with.

Price tuts, strangely unconvinced for someone you’d only known for around ten minutes. “You’d be smart to blame them.”

“Don’t think I can do that when I'm working for them, Price.”

“Can’t you? S’clear they’ve done fuck all to look out for you.”

And you could. Should. Want to. So, so desperately need to. But you’re already saddled with enough things to hate. Hope of catharsis is an outbound ship, a blip on the horizon that you don’t have the funds to board.

“…I don't follow.”

Price doesn’t flinch when the table rocks without the weight of the magazines to keep it steady, and neither do you.

“You don’t follow,” he repeats. Like a crucial detail has been lost in translation.

You shake your head.

“Well, that’s no good.”

Cigar smoke snakes its way into your headspace again when he strides past you to put his hand up against the door, muscles in his forearms flexing when he pulls at the doorknob. He beckons you closer, and you’re pulled out of orbit when you skirt close enough for him to reach, guiding your hand to the cool metal while he stands just behind you.

“Here,” he mutters. Your chest is a cushion, and the rumble in his chest is a bright red pin.

(Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if the crackle of a walkie-talkie might bury how frighteningly human he sounds.)

“What am I looking for?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

He takes his hand off once you’ve stopped throwing glances at him, and your knuckles sizzle in his absence. What was he looking for? Nothing…looks different.

You can’t focus. His eyes are on your neck, and you can’t focus.

And suddenly, you don’t like how close he is. You’re reminded of how he’d shoved his way into your apartment. Barely spoken to you before driving a stake through the bubble put together with your blood sweat and tears. Made you feel ashamed in your own home.

Righteous indignation flares up, and you’re spewing words you’re certain you believe in until they tumble out.

“If you’re just here to poke fun, I’m not—”

Pop.

You look down. The keyhole pokes just out of the doorknob and you look to Price, his face remarkably passive.

“Lock’s been tampered with.” He runs a thumb over the offending protrusion, watches as it slots back into place. “You should see some scratches on the other side of it. Thought I noticed something when the door first slammed, but I didn't want to startle you in case my eyes were playing tricks. Can’t quite see like I used to.”

Why not get glasses?

“I would’ve put up less of a fuss if you’d told me up front.”

He looks at you, eyes a perfect congruence of something just beyond what your fingertips can touch. But he smiles, and you think you can understand. Maybe mash the pieces together. A distending warmth. Nepenthe sinking into every orifice until you’re expelling your woes through your nostrils.

Your axis tilts when Price puts a solid hand on your shoulder.

“It’s not good to lie, mm? Not to me.”

Not good to lie.

When you slide out from under his palm, his callouses snag on the exposed seam of your shirt. You toss him a grin, a bone. “Noted.”

Insecure seconds pass, but not without movement.

It begins like this: Price walks away from the door, and you’re almost grateful for the squealing underneath his feet to fill the silence. He takes your stack of mail and magazines, sets them exactly as they had been before he’d entered. The table is righted, and he works in reverse from that point on.

Closing cabinet doors. Angling that picture frame you’ve been meaning to adjust for weeks. He’s putting things into their proper place, like setting bones before they’re enclosed in a stiff cast.

You, though, are still standing awkwardly by the door.

“You really don’t need to—”

He holds out a hand. “Relax. ‘M just having a second go around.”

You bristle, but your decision to pad over to the couch is of your own volition. It caves in when you sit, and you wiggle to get the cushions to realign with your hips. Your hands feel around blindly for the remote to your TV before remembering you’d dropped it out of the window in a fit of anger some weeks ago, so you sit back, spine hitting the hard frame of the couch. Price’s noises pair well, somehow, with the wind sliding over the glass and the neighbors downstairs.

Until you feel his presence at the back of the couch, and a thought smacks you right across your forehead.

You shoot up, heart rate suddenly inflamed by panic. “Price?”

The movement stops, and you turn around, peer over to find Price prepped to duck his head under the couch. “Hm?”

“Uh.” You hesitate. Shit, think—

“H-how much are they paying you, anyways?” Good save. Maybe a little less than good.

You feel a little bad that you’d stopped Price mid-crouch; you can’t quite remember how old he is, but you know he’s old enough for knee pain to be a concern. He looks up as if crunching the numbers in his head. Hums. “Enough.”

“What’re you looking for?”

“Saw the picked lock, didn’t you?”

“Were you really discharged?”

“Depends. There something under this couch you don’t want me seeing?”

Looks like you can knock “interrogation skills” off of your list of special skills on your resume.

Your jaw snapping shut is enough to send his arm sliding under, and you can only watch in horror as his clutched hand emerges holding a scrap of thin blue fabric. He pushes himself up off of his knees. Takes his sweet time wringing out his back while your eyes track his hand like he’s got a thumb over the button of a detonator.

If he had any shred of decency—

“Another thing I caught on my way in,” he huffs. He holds out his hand and allows the blue fabric to uncurl. A flag, hung full mast right between your eyes. Another one of his tests.

“Price.”

“C’mon, now. Take it from me.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice; your arm shoots out and you win it back in one go. Stuff your lacy underwear into the pocket of your pants and wait for your ceiling to collapse in on you.

“Can’t leave pretty things like that layin’ around.” And Price stops, watches as you curl in on yourself. Voice like the push of velvet shifting underneath your palms. “Likely to rip if you’re not careful.”

You pull your head into your shirt and curl your knees into your chest. It’s a shock when you find yourself face to face with your heartbeat, the skin over your left breast jumping underneath your nose. “I think we’re done here.”

Price makes that sucking noise again with his teeth—agitation, you think it’s agitation—and you trace the hazy shadow of him through your shirt as he steps around the couch to walk to the window. He snaps twice, and you’re beginning to entertain the thought of what might happen if you had enough strength to push him out.

“What now,” you croak.

“Eyes up.”

Slowly, you muster up enough spite to bring your head just above the collar of your shirt. Military men and their incessant need for…whatever the hell this was.

“You’ve gotten better at this. Quick study,” Price remarks.

“Better at what.”

“Listening. That’s good, real good. That’ll make this a whole lot easier,” he says, a note of appreciation that you haven’t heard yet stirring that tiny pool of filth just underneath your navel. You hum.

Price crosses his arms. Flicks his stupid eyes toward the fluttering curtains. “How often d’you leave this open?”

Your face pinches. “I mean—pretty often? It’s hot, Price. And in case you haven’t noticed,” you wave your hand to the general state of disrepair, “I don’t exactly have good circulation in here.”

This gives him pause. Whatever plan he’s recalibrating, you want no part of it. You do notice that he hasn’t put his hands in his pockets since he showed up on your doorstep, instead favoring the use of his left hand to rub his chin.

“Come over here and close the window.”

You nearly jump out of your skin. “...Close the window? Price, you can’t be serious.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Can’t…can’t you close it?”

“It’s not my window. Can’t do everythin’ for you.”

He stares at you expectantly. Your tailbone is beginning to throb, and for some damning reason, that note still ringing bright in the back of your skull. That’s good. Good, good, good.

Price catches that eager glint the moment it surfaces.

“Go on then, love.” He tips his head. “Close it.”

The rest of you surfaces slowly. You look back for a moment at the indent left on the couch, think about how long that imprint will be there until you feel inclined to fluff out those cushions again.

(Later. You’ll get to it later.)

Shutting the window doesn’t take much effort, but the swampy temperature is noticeable. You turn around a little too quickly, so you hold an arm out to the now sealed vault in an exaggerated show of bravado. I did it, see?

Price slides past you to look outside. He purses his lips when he finds what he’s looking for, and you can almost see the note being stashed into some faraway file.

He turns to you. “Keep this window closed till further notice,” and a hand reaches out to tug the curtains shut, and yellow from the lamp you’d left on last night washes over the room instantly.

“Price.”

“I take my work seriously. You take yours seriously, you’ll need me.”

It feels like a slap in the face. “I do, but that doesn’t mean—”

“My job,” and he points to himself, then to you, “is to keep you out of harm's way. Can’t do this if you don’t trust me.”

“You’re asking a lot for someone who hasn’t—”

You go silent as he reaches a hand into a back pocket, pulls out his hand and you count one, two, three square devices around the size of a nail.

“Busted lock, three faulty cameras, all outside. You’re lucky these people are idiots.” He shoves them back into his pocket before returning his focus to you. “You need me.”

You blink.

Price smiles, raises his eyebrows as if the conversation is already over. “Hungry?”

You stumble back. “But what about—what about the apartment?”

“S’fine,” he says. He checks his watch. “I know a couple guys, you’re in good hands.”

#i literally didn't plan for any of this to happen #THERE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SCENE IN A CAR AND NOW I HAVE TO WAIT #but who am i to deny price #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #call of duty #cod #bodyguard!price

78 notes · View notes