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poptod · 3 years

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Pull the Stars Out of the Sky (And Gift Them to Me), pt. 2 (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: The more you learn about why he’s keeping you there, the less you want to be there. Yet, there are parts of you that are becoming more comfortable in his presence.

Notes: I was a little worried, rereading the first part, that ahk being that affectionate was unrealistic for human behavior, but then this dude did exactly that to me n holy shit. okay. now i have a basis for my writing WC: 5.7k

As dusk began to claim the land, the thick scent of cooking meat and boiling beer began to drift from the city, a mouthwatering combination that quickly reminded you of your own hunger. The Pharaoh wasn't starving you purposefully––or at least you didn't think he was––but he had left you tied to his bed with no chance of escape. Your stomach bubbled as you stared out at the distant city, past the river and to the mirage of a horizon.

You tried to swallow, but your tongue cracked against the roof of your mouth. It had been a while now since you'd had anything to drink. As much as you hated it, you would have to ask Ahk for something to drink and eat when he came back.

Tugging at the restraints only worsened the burn around your wrists, your soft skin chafing against rough rope. Again you tried to swallow, muscles moving around nothing as you did, aching from misuse. You weren't sure if you should await his return with excitement or dread––yes, his return may herald food and water, but you were more at his mercy than ever before. Merely the fact that he knew of your existence set you on edge.

Outside the locked room, murmuring voices passed by, muted words accompanied by soft footfalls. You watched the door expectantly, but no latch clicked and no one entered.

A couple more groups passed by in the same manner before you stopped looking to the door. Instead you tried to focus on the city––if you squinted hard enough, you could see the moving heads of the market crowd thinning in the coming evening. How far away their life seemed and how you longed for it as never before. Very rarely did you ever take to idolizing or wanting things, as material possessions didn't ever interest you, and you were perfectly happy with the way your life was proceeding. Not anymore, of course. You wanted nothing more than an out for this. Terror didn't quite describe it––more of a quiet dread.

The click of the door caught your attention and you whirled around, eyes wide as they met the unfortunately familiar eyes of the Pharaoh. You hated to use his name. Too personal. He adored you, though––used your name often, smiled when he saw you.

"It's good to see you safe," he said as he approached you, a large and ornate tray in his hand. Once he reached the bed he knelt on it, setting the tray aside as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"What's that?" You asked, motioning with your chin towards the tray. He brought it back to his side, pulling off the clay lid to reveal a wealth of fruit, bread, and wine. As if on cue your stomach growled, sparking a small chuckle from him.

"I realized you haven't gotten much to eat or drink since you've been here, so I thought you might enjoy it," he said, leaning forward further to untie your hands from the bed.

The moment he announced it was for you, you reached for one of the rolls and bit into it. Unlike much of the food you had during your life, it was soft, practically melting in your mouth as you chewed on the sweet flavor. It was, in a way, somewhat similar to what you imagined clouds would taste like.

He, in his naturally unsettling nature, watched you as you ate but did not partake in his gift. Halfway through the three plums you wondered if perhaps he had poisoned it, but considering how overprotective he was you didn’t consider it likely. If anything he would drug you into submission, and while that wasn't favorable outcome, it was a more lenient fate than poison.

"What kind of work did you do before you came here?" He asked. Your chewing gradually slowed as you looked to him, once again reluctant to inform him on yourself. But you swallowed, took a breath, and spoke.

"Small jobs," you said. "Favor for favors."

"Come now, I'm sure there's more to it than that. I'd like to learn about you," he said softer, as though his past cruel actions had not left blisters on your skin. You looked at him in contempt, let it simmer around him before you reluctantly continued.

"I travelled around a lot. People would ask me to do these favors for them––hunt the creatures taking their children, fix their roofs, crawl down the well to get the dead birds out, and in return I would have a meal and a bed for a little bit. Just a day or two. Didn't want to stay longer than that anyway," you said, trying to concentrate more on your food and less on his stare.

"How many towns have you stopped in?"

"I never counted," you said.

"Then how long have you been doing this for?"

"About as long as I can remember. Why are you keeping me here?"

He paused, taken back for a moment at your straightforward question.

"I told you, you're safer –"

"No," you interrupted him. "Why – why do you feel the need to keep me safe? You don't know me and I have been anything but kind."

This time he paused for longer, truly debated his words before he spoke them, and only answered when you raised your eyebrows expectantly.

"It's not like me," he finally said, deep and almost curt as his voice cracked. "My officials have been giving me strange looks for it, actually. I freed my slaves but kept you here... of course they'd have questions."

He looked down at his fidgeting fingers, trying to swallow through the lump in his throat.

"I don't know why, but..." he turned back to you, eyes meeting yours as he raised his hand to cup your face. You stayed stock still, trying not to give a single thing away. "... I want.. to keep you. There's something about your presence, the way you carry yourself, that draws me to you. In a way you remind me of a lot of the spark I.. I lost, sort of. It's not your responsibility to make me feel better, I want you to know that. I just have a deep appreciation for your presence. I feel as though I might get better when I see you."

That was, undeniably, one of the strangest things you'd ever heard about yourself. You could barely process what he was saying, an ineptitude of yours that only grew when he touched you.

"Do not steal my freedom for your own benefit," you whispered, just barely verging on fully speaking.

"I know," he said, and the guilt was clear on his face. Not that it mattered––no matter how guilty he felt or how wrong he knew his actions were, it meant nothing without the actions to back it up.

The silence that built up between you was broken not by sound but by movement. Ahk reached for one of the tiger rolls, sticky with the sweetness of sun-dried dates, and held it up for you. Confusion took you for a moment, quickly followed by hesitation as you realized he was trying to feed you. Himself.

Fucking –

You took a deep breath, calming the enraged thoughts in your head before you gingerly opened your mouth. Gently you bit into it. The bread of it squished, filling your mouth with a sweet, thick taste of honey, dates, and nuts. You chewed slowly before you swallowed.

"You're strange," you said.

"You're not the first to tell me that," he said with a grin. You smiled back, curt and polite and meaningless, but he still seemed to enjoy it.

"How long will you keep me here?" You asked, but with the quiet volume your voice cracked in the middle of your sentence.

"In my room? Or in the palace?"

"Both."

"Well," he glanced to the side uncertainly, "in my room until I am assured you won't run away, and in the palace... um, you shan't need to leave the palace without me. So I suppose you leaving the palace would coincide with when I do, or when you ask me. I'm perfectly happy to take the time to take you outside every now and then."

"So... never," you said, crossing your arms.

"Oh, don't be upset now," he said softly, leaning closer to you as his hand came to rest on your cheek. He led you to meet his eye. "You'll be alright. I know it seems like a lot, but you get used to it eventually. I speak from experience."

While curiosity did seize you for a moment, it dissipated at the sight of his wandering hands. As his thumb began to stroke your cheek, the other drew up your thigh, up your chest before it landed on the sensitive skin of your neck. He looked at you, tried to hold your eye as he touched you but you didn't dare look up. Instead, you stared at the edge of the bed, wondering what ideas he had in store for this evening.

"You are beautiful," he murmured, taking in every inch of your complexion. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"I don't really talk to people," you answered quietly.

"Why not?"

"Never really interested me," you said.

"Then you're an opposite of me," he said with a growing smile. "I adore learning about others, about myself... and I think it'll be quite the adventure getting to know you, as well."

Not if I can help it, you thought, but you refrained from speaking the truth. Instead you nodded vaguely, still withholding eye contact.

"Are you tired?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

"A little," you said through a hoarse voice.

"Finish the food you want," he said, pushing the tray a little closer to you. "Then we can sleep. I've had a long day, so I'm tired myself."

He's had a long day? You thought. Try attempting to escape a kidnapper and then failing ten feet. And being tied to a bed for several hours, you added on at the end, bitterness tainting your thoughts.

There was nothing you could do now––not with him in the room, not so late into the night. As much as you loathed to return to the position of the previous evening, you let Ahk move you as he pleased, accepting a more gentle touch over the forceful movements that appeared in your disobedience's wake. The sheets rustled for a good minute or two before he found a comfortable position, arms encircled tight around your waist with his face buried in your hair.

It wasn't a position you were particularly comfortable with, and you certainly didn't enjoy it, but the panic that had so fiercely seized you no longer plagued your sleepy mind. Discomfort, sure, but not panic. He would not hurt you. He would not force you into anything but staying with him, and while that fate may have been an unpleasant one that you'd rather not endure, it was better than the cruelties he could legally unleash upon you. And, you supposed, he wasn't horrendous looking. With his eyes fluttered shut and soft breaths leaving him, he was quite serene.

Almost... pretty.

You shifted back down into the position he pulled you into, settling your back against his chest. Once there he tucked you under his chin, arms tightening ever so slightly, before a long sigh was followed by satisfied silence.

You took a deep breath. Rose. Rather exotic. The only reason you could identify it, was because the you'd only smelled it one other time.

Wind brought you to stir, a brisk chillness that grew goosebumps on your skin. You grumbled unpleasantly, curling back into the one source of heat you had; another's body. It took less than a second for you to realize exactly where you were––cradled in the arms of the Pharaoh. Continued consciousness brought about another realization, as well. He was petting your hair. Again.

Opening your eyes, you found a decent amount of light in the room, and turned to find the morning sky.

"Morning," he mumbled, but made no effort to move. You struggled for a moment before giving in with a huff.

"Can I get up?"

"May you get up. And no," he shifted closer to you, "just a minute longer."

True to his word he soon released you, though still didn't make any attempt to get himself out of bed. He stayed sprawled on the mattress till the cool breeze became too much to comfortably bear. At that point he curled up, wrapping himself up in the sheets you left.

"Ugh," he groaned, "is Naguib here?"

"No," you said, eyes flickering to the door for a split second.

"Naguib??" He said, this time much louder, and scuttering came from behind the large doors.

"My King," Naguib acknowledged, gently shutting the door behind him.

"Why, in the name of Amun, is it so cold today," he asked gruffly, though entirely unmenacing.

"Piye says a wind from the eastern lands will be coming in for the next several days," Naguib said.

You watched from your seat against the wall as Naguib opened an expansive wardrobe, flicking through the various clothing till he found what satisfied him. "It's far too cold, I live here for warm weather," Ahk continued to complain thoughtlessly, burying his face in his pillow.

"You live here because you can't rule a nation from an oasis," Naguib said, flipping a long skirt in the air to rid it of wrinkles.

"Speaking of the kingdom," Ahk said as he rolled off the bed and onto the floor, "how's it doing this morning?"

"You have court this morning on –"

"The embalmers from Thebes?"

Naguib nodded.

"God damn it," Ahk mumbled. "Why can't we ever have those meetings in the afternoon? Why is it always in the morning I have to hear about the rotting bodies?"

"Don't ask me, Sir. You planned the court hearing," Naguib said, helping the Pharaoh to his feet and promptly dressing him in his robes.

While the servant fit the beaded collar over Ahkmenrah's shoulders, he glanced to you, to your little space in the corner where a rug had been set. Chill bit at your fingers, forcing you to hide them between your thighs, though even those were beginning to turn cold. Egypt was the furthest north you'd ever been.

"My King, if I might make a suggestion?" Naguib asked quietly, straightening out the long cape. Ahk nodded, and he continued. "Maybe take your.. um, Amoke, with you? It's going to be pretty cold all day and you haven't got any blankets or curtains."

"Hmm?" Ahk said as he turned back, first to Naguib, before his eyes flickered over to your huddled form. Though you felt his eyes on you, you did not look up.

The two of them muttered amongst themselves for a little while longer before Ahkmenrah was fully prepared for the morning. Only then did the Pharaoh approach you, offering his hand for you to take. He gave his reasoning clearly––today would be chilly, and being tied up to a bedpost probably wouldn't do your already-present wounds any good. You didn't truly want to spend the day with him, but there was very little argument when the only other option was shivering all day.

Torches lined the hallways you walked down, illuminating the corridors and their storytelling paintings. Some were familiar, ones that had caught your eye, while others escaped your waking memory.

"Tonight we shall be staying in a different room," Ahkmenrah declared, placing his hand on the small of your back as though he was leading you. "One more deep inside the palace, where we keep the fires."

"Where are we going now?" You asked, looking up at him.

"To court, unfortunately. But breakfast first."

You sat at a table the likes of which you'd never seen; dark, glazed wood that stretched down the entirety of a dining hall, whose end you could barely identify in the dawn's awakening. The Pharaoh sat at the head, and you to his left on the long end of the table. Upon being seated, two servants brought out several different trays, setting them out in front of Ahk. Each of them had their own theme-sort of food––fruit, meat, cheeses, breads, a cup of beer and a plate to set it on. He was quick to notice they brought no plate for you, and quietly requested one.

The two of you ate in relative silence for a couple minutes before Naguib joined, sliding in across from you. At first your eyes went wide––rarely had you ever heard of a servant joining the head of the table, but with one glance to the Pharaoh, your anxiousness dissipated. He didn't appear to mind. Slowly you turned back to eating, eyeing the two men every now and again.

What strange people, you thought.

When you were first told you would be attending court, your instant imagery of the room was the throne room––wide arches overlooking the city, confirming the ego of the chosen Pharaoh, who would always believe himself above the lives of those he ruled. Instead, as you stood at the tiny threshold of the court, high ceilings towered above you in spirals and painted stars, long pillars calling from the marble and pooling on the crystalline floor, where your reflection sat stunned below you. Already people lined the sides of the long hallway. At one end sat the raised floor of the throne, accompanied by a few smaller seats, and at the other end were large, wooden doors allowing the light of the sun to come spilling into the room.

Eyes trailed after the Pharaoh as he took his seat, and by proxy the attention of the public fell on you, the unnamed, poorly-dressed stranger in tow. Naguib came up behind you, whispering in your ear to stand at the side of the throne, and to remain behind it at all times. Without thought you obeyed; this would be a long day, and it was one of the less demeaning rules to follow.

As the court was called into session, more servants came out from behind the throne, carrying sticks of fire with which they lit the beacons placed on either side of the room. The doors soon shut to keep out the unnatural chill, leaving much but the throne in shadow.

Every now and again you glanced to Ahk. He practiced much of the image you'd come to fear––the confidence, the succinct use of words, without a smile so much as occurring to him in thought. When he looked to you, though, in tiny moments where eyes were more trained on criminal testimonies rather than the Pharaoh himself, a familiar warmth filled his expression, and he would gift you a tiny smile. Each time you inhaled sharply and turned away––holding eye contact was a little much for you today.

Murmurings in the crowd grew steadily louder till you finally recognized the extra voices as coming from outside. Your fingers clenched into fists, staring at the doors as Ahkmenrah conversed quietly with his advisors.

As you suspected, the doors swung open, a soldier entering with subordinates behind him. He grew nearer to the feet of the throne, soon gaining the Pharaoh's attention along with your recognition. You'd seen this man before––your breath caught in your throat when you realized it was the same soldier who locked you up, and he was glaring at you with a menacing glint in his eye.

"My King," he said, bowing before he mentioned anything else. "I am Thaabit, I oversee the shipping complex in northern Memphis. A few days ago we lost one of our inhabitants. We have been searching, and... we discovered they made it here."

Ahk raised a single brow, scanning the man intently.

"Are you referring to Amoke?" He finally asked after painfully stretched silence.

"Yes, the slave beside you," he said with a nod, turning to you.

"I am not a slave," you said firmly, but Ahk silenced you with a raise of his hand, turning dully back to Thaabit, who was still bowed on his knees.

"Did they commit any crime?"

"Trespassing, for one," Thaabit said. "Not even citizens of Egypt are allowed in the complex, and I believe Amoke is from Mali. And without a legal card for travel and trade."

Ahk took another minute to process the man's words while you sweated beside him, your bottom teeth grinding into your skull.

"What do you suggest I do then?"

"Return them to the complex, of course."

He laughed––the Pharaoh, stone-faced and cruel, belted out a laugh in front of the whole of court. Wide eyes stared at him from the crowd, as did yours.

"Amusing," he said. "I'm not doing that."

"But my King ––"

"Silence," the Pharaoh commanded, and the soldier readily obeyed. "Anyone else to accuse Amoke of wrongdoing, or attempt to harm them in any way, will be punished henceforth. I'll let you off with a warning, Thaabit, as you did not know of this rule––but do not ask after them again, or you will be the one being sent shackled to Punt."

You watched from your spot in the shadows, watched the soldiers' deteriorating will, crumbling from a once-tall chest to hunched shoulders and a twisted, nervous expression.

"Yes, my King. Thank you," he said, much softer than any of his other words, and left with his spear gripped tight in his fist. Breath once taken from you returned in a relieved sigh.

"Thank you," you mumbled, half-hoping he wouldn't hear.

"Of course, my dear," he said, though didn't turn to you. "Anything for your safety."

He remained in a quiet mood for the rest of the day. Throughout dinner you tried to gauge his thoughts, to dig into what was on his mind, but there was little you could do without speaking. He didn't seem in the right mindset for a conversation, and you didn't want to open your mouth anyway.

"I enjoy taking you places," he said out of nowhere as the two of you strolled down the halls. "It's... cathartic, to see you smile during a long day."

You couldn't recall ever smiling today, but you didn't mention it. Instead you let his words sit for a moment before asking a question.

"Where are we going now?"

"I have to overlook our honey trade for the evening, make sure the transport and storage goes according to plan. Usually I'd have Piye do this, but... well, they're overlooking a ceremony tonight."

The sun had, somehow, already set behind the low mountains of the horizon. It was one of those rare times where you were surprised by the time of day––most days, you were outside all the time, and could easily predict the time of sunset. Being cooped up in the palace led you to this confusion, and for you to shiver from the chill wind of evening.

Like most Egyptians occupying the city, you were dressed in very light clothes, gifted to you by the King in lieu of your dirty outfit. While he conversed with the honey farmers, you wrapped yourself up in your arms and scanned your surroundings.

You stayed close to the small, outside door leading into the cellar, the open arch followed by lowering steps. Here the ground was pure, soft sand, unoccupied by buildings or citizens. Though you couldn't see the Nile, palm trees and small bushes surrounded you in little groves. The only movement came from the farmers and the Pharaoh. Tall, clay vases sat in a special cart, piled on top of each other with large corks stuck in the top.

"Perfect," Ahk said, counting the golden rings in his hand. "Safe journey to you."

"Thank you, my King," the main farmer said with a bow. He made a sign to the others, and they began to lift the jars into the cellar with great, careful effort.

"Most Pharaohs had their honey grown and harvested near the palace, for convenience," Ahk said once he stood beside you, his voice quiet for only you to hear. "I've found that the best honey is a little ways down the river––it's worth the payment for the delivery. Do you like honey?"

"I've only tried it a few times, but yes," you said.

"Mmm, I think you'll like this then," he said, smiling.

It wasn't long until the many jars were placed in the cellar, and the farmers were set off back in the direction of home. Ahk led you by your shoulder down the steps, where the air grew cooler yet, and the scent of fermented wine hit you strong.

"I believe we have some extra rations of sweet cakes down here," he said, leaving your side to search the rows of jars and pots. You watched from afar.

"It isn't necessary t-"

"Oh well of course it isn't necessary," he grinned, "but it is nice, isn't it? If you have wealth, why not enjoy it from time to time?"

You hummed acknowledgement but weren't sure whether you agreed or disagreed with his statement. Nonetheless, he continued his search, only returning to you when he found a sealed jar of the hard cakes. He paused in front of you, chest to yours as he smiled softly down at you. Gentle pressure of his fingers on your bare arm nearly had you flinching away, but he kept you in place, scanning you like a prized belonging.

"If I have you," he murmured, brushing the hair out of your eyes, "why not enjoy you from time to time?"

You could almost feel yourself go pale, but the Pharaoh just beamed and kissed your forehead, leaving your personal space with that small prize.

"Come now, Amoke," he said, calling you over to where the large jugs of honey were stored.

He handed the two biscuits in his hands to you, kneeling to work at the oversized cork. As it twisted, a soft hissing sound began to come from it, and slowly but surely it popped out of the vase's neck. Once he set the cork aside, he reached for a long stirring stick and dipped it into the golden honey. It dripped down sweetly as he drew it out.

"Hold this," he said.

The two of you switched positions, with him now carrying the biscuits and you holding up the stick of honey. He held the cakes out, letting thin strands of honey pour onto the top of the bread, breaking into thinner rivers that dripped back into the pot.

Once he was satisfied, he held the cake up to your mouth, letting you gently bite in as the stick in your hand went limp. While you slowly chewed, he closed the jug and set away the stirstick.

"Good?" He asked, biting into his own cake.

"Very," you said after much deliberation. It was almost too sweet. You liked it quite a lot, but you didn't want to tell him that, just in case it would inflate his ego.

"There is a great many of dishes I think you'll enjoy. I doubt you'll have had any of them before, if what you say about your past is true," he said, leading you out of the cellar as you both finished with your biscuits.

You'd almost forgotten his earlier words, but they quickly came back to you when he took you to a different bedroom. True to his word––deep inside the palace, where a fire was already stoked, lighting the room with warm light that flickered and danced with the shadows. Drapes of purple and pink fell from the ceiling, their curves leading to the image of the sky goddess, Nut. The bed was dressed in gold and blood red colors, blankets and pillows overflowing the mattress, while burning incense hung from the middle of the canopy.

Ahk took your hand and led you deeper into the room, pulling you to the center while he closed the door behind you. A lock clicked, but unlike the previous times, you didn't jump. By now you must've already expected him to lock it.

"I want you to be perfectly honest with me," he said, still standing behind your back. You froze, your posture straight as you stared straight ahead. "I won't punish you."

That's comforting, you thought to yourself, bitterly.

"How did you find yourself in that complex? Were you looking for something?"

"Is that what's been bothering you all day?" You asked through a tight throat.

For a moment he was quiet, and your heart was seized with fear, until he chuckled low and soft.

"Perceptive little thing, aren't you?"

"S-sorry, sir," you stammered out.

"No need to apologize," he said, and the heat of his words brushed the back of your neck, followed by a tracing finger as he circled you to face you. "Now answer me."

You could barely breathe, conscious thought more out of your head than ever before. Piercing eyes settled upon your own, staring through the walls you built between yourself and the world, devastating your shaky facade of safety.

"I thought I recognized one of the captives," you said, barely audible above the fire. Though your eyes fell from his gaze, he continued to stare. "It was a girl I met when I was younger. I played with her for an afternoon, and... she was begging with your soldiers. I couldn't leave her there, even if she wasn’t the girl I met."

He remained silent, waiting for you to continue.

"She is going to be turned to a slave, isn't she?"

"I'm afraid so," he murmured, almost sorrowful. Almost. "How did you escape?"

"They aren't very smart, your guards. It wasn't hard. Just had to wear down the restraints and leave when they were sleeping," you said with a shrug.

"And how did you end up in my room?"

Now he asks, you thought, internally rolling your eyes.

"It's... a long story," you tried, but your avoidant nature was caught quickly by the Pharaoh.

"We have all night," he said, stepping closer yet. "Unless you want to retire to bed already."

One glance to the small bed and you froze––not yet. You weren't mentally prepared quite yet.

"I got mistaken for one of your servants and I was herded into the palace by a guard. I managed to split off from the group, but you have patrols in the hallway, so I hid in the first room I found," you answered.

"I'm glad you did, then," he said softly, raising your head by a finger beneath your chin. "You are... perfect. Intelligent, passionate... beautiful. I am overjoyed to have met you in this life."

"As opposed to another life?"

"Yes, well," he chuckled, "the sooner the better, right? Take a seat, dear."

His hands held yours as he led you to the fireplace, pulling you to the carpeted floor. Piles of pillows and blankets surrounded you, accompanied by the ferns of palm trees hanging above you from the ornately painted vases, one on either side of the fireplace. As he moved to take a seat, you expected him to sit beside you or across from you like a normal person. Instead he placed his knees on either side of your hips, trapping you beneath him as he reached for you, pulling his fingers from your hands to your jaw.

You shivered from his touch and he laughed––cupping your face as he lovingly brushed the hair from your face.

"Sensitive, are you?" He asked in a teasing manner, clearly delighted by your reactions. You on the other hand hated it, and blushed brightly.

"It's only because I don't like people touching me," you said, turning away from Ahk. He was having none of that; forced you to look him in the eye, lips ever so slightly parted as his gaze fell to your own lips.

"Unfortunate," he said, sure to keep quiet in the small space between you. "I think you have touched me once, but I enjoyed it very much. You have nice hands."

It was obvious he expected you to touch him, to give into his questionless request. But you didn't. You barely maintained eye contact and your hands remained rooted behind you. Subdued irritation tugged at his smile, and to satisfy his need that you wouldn't willingly gift, he dipped his face into your collar, nuzzling his nose beneath your jaw and wrapping himself so tightly around you there was no space at all between the two of you.

He stayed like that for a couple minutes. When it became clear to him that you would not return the affection, he adjusted himself further, wrapping his legs around your torso as well and pressing the side of his face to your own. Like this he could easily tilt his head and kiss your cheek, which he did do inbetween playing with your hair and breathing your scent in deep.

"Mmm," he hummed softly, "you are a wonder of the Gods."

You didn't have the space of mind to tell him you don't follow his religion.

He pulled away, his hand still resting on your cheek, and said, "I will do anything to protect you. Know that, alright? And I will do anything in my power to keep you happy."

"I am not a person whose affections can be won with gifts. I'm sorry," you said, stating a simple truth.

"No, I didn't think so. You didn't seem the type. But I will grow gardens in your name. I will commission art of anything you like, and it shall be painted on the walls of the city. I will make you a God in my peoples' eyes."

A god? Your expression must've given away your alarm, as he smiled and explained himself.

"They listen to my every word. If I should say the night is day and the day is night, so it will be written... and so will you be remembered," he murmured, words spoken against your lips as he dipped in to kiss you. "A God for all of time."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x female reader #ahkmenrah x male reader

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peachy-inserts · 4 years

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bakugou falling for someone/relationship hcs

request: Hawks, kirishima and bakugo falling for someone/relationship headcanons pwetty pwease? *pleading bird eyes"🐓 warnings: Cursing a/n: here’s the blasty boys part, since it’s his birthday!! im also trying a new style of formatting, i hope this is easier for you guys to read and more pleasing to the eye

The hardest part for Bakugou when catching feelings is admitting it to himself. Most likely, you’ll notice before he does; when he’s crushing on someone, it’s visible to everyone but him. He struggles with coping with his own emotions and tends to ignore them out of fear of stepping out of his comfort zone and being rejected

Some may think it would be easy for him to confess to someone, what with his cocky attitude and ‘better than you’ demeanor, but it’s the exact opposite. He’s such.. a broken, messed up person. He uses that exterior to hide and push down how he truly feels so that he can focus on his goals, which are really just another distraction. He’s so bothered on the inside and emotionally just totally fucked up. It’ll take a close relationship with him to develop a romance

Bakugou would certainly fit best with someone different than him, someone who knows how to communicate and help others. It’ll take someone who can give him a little healing therapy and slowly pry him open, all while wearing their heart on their sleeve just to show him how

Bakugou while crushing on someone would be like a whole new side of him. He’d make an effort not to scare you off, offering you help when/if needed and refraining from yelling. It’s almost like a subconscious effort, and comes off surprisingly natural from the hot headed boy

He would certainly try and make conversation with you, trying to ask you questions about your personal life and let you know he doesn’t have any harsh feelings, worried that you may have gotten the wrong idea

The fact that everyone sees him as such a hostile person has really affected his own self image and caused him to feel bound to that persona, scared that he’ll only make things worse if he tries to prove to everyone the person that he really is

Bakugou also would be spending an increased amount of time with you and becoming protective. He’s possessive to a certain extent, and may even linger over you to the point of it becoming uncomfortable. Tell him about it, and he’ll apologize and make an effort to try and back down after a few days of trying to hide from you out of embarrassment

The way I picture Bakugou coming to terms with his feelings is in a sudden moment of revelation, all the pieces finally clicking into place and making sense. I imagine him being someone who falls in love with a close friend over time, instead of jumping into a relationship without any true feelings

The way he would confess would be emotional to say the least. Not an awkward or tense moment, nothing planned, but out of pure circumstance. Maybe someone got hurt, maybe you’re scared, or maybe he’s being comforted. Show him some special attention and affection and it’ll slip out so spontaneously you’d almost think he was joking, but you’ve never seen him looking so heartfelt or speak so genuinely

The early stages of your relationship would be strange, to say the least. Neither of you are really sure what to do, since most people tend to become comfortable as significant others before confessing their love for them

He tries to cover the basics with you, going out on dates and precariously planned outings, but eventually you both realize that’s not the move for you. He’s more of a secretive person when it comes to personal affairs, and is confident that you don’t need to be wooed to care for him

Besides, he pours all of his trust and effort into your relationship. If going out on a date matters more than any of his other feats, then you’re not the person for him. He has high, cliche standards when it comes to love

I’ve said this once before but he really does devote his entire self to you. He’ll give you his everything and more because he’s confident that you would do the same for him, and would go to great lengths for any period of time for you because of it; he’ll become the most reliable and loyal person in your life

He feels guilty for talking to other people sometimes simply because of how jealous he can be; let him know you trust him and that it’s alright

Speaking of jealousy, he’s so fucking bad about it holy shit. So much as someone shaking your hand makes him tense up and suddenly be in a pissy mood. He’s an angry man when he’s jealous, but never towards you, of course. It’s *other* people he doesn’t trust

Not to mention, his own insecurities holding him back and choking him. His greatest fear is that you’ll suddenly realize that so many other people could treat you way better, make you so much happier-

When he gets possessive, don’t be afraid to knock him down a few pegs and then get to the root of the problem. This is when he’s the most vulnerable, so take advantage and let him know everything is alright. Coddle him, reassure him; he more than deserves it

So not afraid to literally punch someone in the face if they’re making you uncomfortable, or God forbid laying a finger on you. Is by far the most protective lover who won’t hesitate to take any necessary measures to guarantee your safety. You’re the best damn thing to happen to him, and nobody will take that joy away from him

Would certainly, regardless of your gender, size, or whether or not you’re another hero, buy you things like pepper spray and tell you to bring it with you everywhere. A ‘text me when you get there’ kind of guy (even though he himself drives like a dumbass)

I literally get sooooo pissed off when I see people writing about Bakugou and him calling his s/o names, cursing at them and such. Fuck that, that is an abusive behavior and he’s well aware of it. Katsuki Bakugou would never even dare to call you a foul name, not even jokingly. He’s 100% all over sticky pet names like honey and darling

Not a big PDA guy but if he’s jealous, which he literally always is, then he’s all over you. On a regular day he’s a hand on your waist, arm over your shoulder, but when he’s feeling threatened he has no qualms with giving you a deep kiss in front of everyone

He would be so, so, so fucking proud. Hell yeah, that’s his baby; he landed that! While he doesn’t talk about you a whole lot, whenever you do come up he goes off, to the point of annoying his friends. Everyone has to know just how lucky he is, because you truly are a blessing in his life

Put him in his place when he’s being a little too aggressive, show him you aren’t afraid to stick your nose out and are strong enough to stand up for yourself. He’s a great boyfriend, but like anyone else has his flaws and needs to be corrected. Be the person he’s too weak to be, someone he can look up to without rivalry

Bakugou can act like he doesn’t really care, but it’s really important to him that you like his friends and that they like you (although it would be almost impossible for them not to, what with all the great things that he says about you. I can see them being relieved that he has someone to care for him so deeply and someone that he can honestly be open with)

He’s the type of person to see something you might like and randomly get it for you. Not to the extent that Hawks does, because Bakugou is more genuine when it comes to gift giving. It’s about you, not him.

If you mention off hand that you like something, need this replaced, or think something is cute, then he would surprise you with it no matter how big or small

Dates with him are all or nothing, and don’t happen that often. He prefers staying in with you and enjoying time alone, but still feels like it’s important to treat you every once in a while. Going out with him means you’ll be dressed to the nines and spend the entire evening out in high society

Listen his mom’s a fashion designer, if he wants to help you get dressed or buy you clothes let him! Not only is he good at it, but it means a lot to him that he can share something with you that he excels in

One of his favorite things to do is cook for you, speaking of being good at things. He can communicate his love for you in a way where he doesn’t have to spend money or use his words and still please you. Food is important to him, and used as a comfort between the two of you

Please be patient with him when it comes to telling you how he feels. No matter how long you’ve been together, he’ll always be a man of action rather than words. He proves his love in ways other than romantic speeches, and although he tells you constantly that he loves you, it’s short and brief

»»————-　♡　————-«« Like these hcs? Find the same prompt for:

hawks.

todoroki.

aizawa.

kirishima.

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marvxlousqueen · 5 years

Text

Warren Worthington- Tease

requested by anon: Hi!! , i was wondering if you could write something where the reader can read minds and she can hear that warren has a massive crush on her, so she always act confident in front of him. And maybe some smut with sub warren??

word count: 1.8K

A/N: this took forever i am so sorry! also i didn’t have time for the smut :( but pls enjoy

Monday, September 16th. 7:42 am

(Y/n)’s eyes were half closed as she looked over her calculus quiz. Getting a pop quiz was never fun, but having a pop quiz during your first period? Well, that’s just the definition of hell.

She was supposed to be solving for a geometric limit (something she had studied for), but her brain hadn’t woken up yet. Instead, she turned to her mutation for answers. She looked towards Kurt who was seated in front of her. (Y/n) focused on him, trying to get into his head.

“As x approaches b? Vhat does that even mean?”

Kurt’s thoughts were no help, he seemed just as lost as she was. She moved to focus on Scott, who was seated a few chairs over from her. (Y/n) eyes flicked towards him, trying to not be noticed by the teacher.

(Y/n) finally got into his mind, just to be suddenly overwhelmed by noise.

“It’s the EYE OF THE TIGER! IT’S THE THRILL OF THE FIGHT-”

Scott was too busy singing Survivor’s newest hit to himself to share answers.

(Y/n) let out a long sigh, looking around at the other students. She didn’t trust most of the kids enough to steal answers from them, but she figured she didn’t have many options either way.

Looking around to find someone smart, (Y/n)’s eyes were caught by the stark white of Warren’s wings. They looked so pristine under the florescent lighting, making him truly look like an angel.

Wonder what he’s thinking about, she thought to herself.

Despite liking him for so long, (Y/n) had managed to refrain from peeking into his mind, afraid he might find out and be upset with her (and also possibly afraid that she might hear that he likes someone else).

Before (Y/n) knew what was happening, she was inside Warren’s mind. She could hear his breath roaring in her ears.

“She’s not writing anything either- that’s a good sign. If she fails this quiz too, I won’t look stupid in front of her. Or maybe I should try and impress her. Or would I just look like a douche?”

Warren’s head was filled with thoughts surrounding a certain “she”. (Y/n) could only guess that he was talking about Ororo, who was only a few chairs in front of him. The two were very close, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if he liked her (although she tried to push those thoughts away).

And that’s why you don’t spy on crushes, you only get hurt, she thought.

(Y/n) tried to make herself shut him out, but part of her wouldn’t let go. She was holding onto his words, somehow enjoying his nervous tone. It made her feel closer to him, having never seen that side of Warren. He was usually quiet, but it seemed like in his own head he tended to ramble on nervously. It was cute.

“Maybe she could tutor me- no what if she thinks I’m dumb, she wouldn’t date a dumb dude. But also we’d get to spend time together.”

Warren was running through pros and cons of asking the girl to tutor him, and he was being quite thorough, which (Y/n) thought was sweet. He really cared for this mystery girl (probably Ororo, but still not 100% sure.) and despite (Y/n)’s heart being crushed, she was happy he was happy.

“Plus (Y/n) has the same study hall as me so it could work out great! I guess I need to actually ask her- oh fuck I need to actually ask her.”

(Y/n) felt her jaw drop, her head whipping from the front of the room to face Warren. As she turned, she caught him staring at her. His faced turned red and he looked down at his quiz quickly.

Me? Holy fuck! He likes me!

(Y/n) quickly tuned into Warren’s thoughts once again, hearing him scold himself.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit- she saw me. It’s fine, you’re fine, Warren. Just play it cool. Keep it cool.”

(Y/n) bit down on her lip to repress her smile.

He. Likes. Me.

She turned to look back at Warren. His face was buried in his hands, his quiz pushed to the other side of the desk. It seemed he had given up on it.

Maybe I should ask if he wants tutoring, she thought.

(Y/n) figured Warren wouldn’t make the first move, so she planned to ask him during lunch that day.

She went through the rest of her morning classes like she was floating. Having her crush like her back was something that had never happened to her before. It was amazing.

Now the only thing was to somehow get Warren to ask her out. Although (Y/n) already knew how he felt, she didn’t want to make that move. She knew him well enough to know that he got embarrassed when girls did the “boy’s” job (toxic masculinity in the 80s, am i right?).

If she just acted a bit more confident and up front, he’d be sure to ask her out in no time.

As fourth period came to a close, (Y/n) went over what she wanted to say to Warren in her head. She wanted to offer tutoring help, but not accidentally make him feel dumb or act like she was better than him. (She was probably overthinking this, but she tended to do that around him).

The bell rang and she swung her bag over her shoulder, rushing down the stairs to get in line before it got too long. Looking ahead in line, she saw Warren near the front. Her breathing started to pick up and she went over her words once again.

After getting her food, she walked towards Warren’s table where he sat with Peter, Kurt, and Scott.

“Hey, Warren! And, uh, everyone else I guess.. Anyway! I was wondering if you wanted to study for math in the library after school some time? This unit is pretty hard and the test is next week so.. yeah.”

“Y-yeah! I mean uh, yes. I would like that, yeah. Today? Can we do today? I’m free after school.” His face was red and the words spilled out, unable to stop himself from totally embarrassing himself.

“Sure, yeah! I’m down. I’ll see you then,” she said as she walked away.

Warren nodded, licking his dry lips, “O-okay!”

Peter burst into laughter once (Y/n) was out of earshot, “God, that was the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

“What? Shut up! I was cool.”

“You were definitely not cool. You need to relax around her. Just chill.”

“Or,” Scott said in between bites of his pizza, “Just ask her out already and see what happens.”

“I can’t do that! It’s way to early for that! She’ll- she’ll say no and I can’t take that.”

Scott shrugged, “Fine. You’re suffering, not mine. Do what you wish.”

Warren huffed, returning to his food before the lunch period ended.

At 3:00 after his last class he pushed his way through the hallway and towards the library, wanting to beat (Y/n) there so he could get set up and look sophisticated. He opened the door, taking a seat at a table towards the back for privacy.

(Y/n) joined him about 5 minutes later, lips stretched into a smile. “Hey! Sorry, had to run upstairs to get my textbook.”

She sat down next to him, plopping the textbook on the table.

“Okay, so! Should we start with algebraic limits? I’m better with those.”

Warren nodded, cheeks red as (Y/n) stared at him, waiting for an answer. She flipped open the book and moved to pull out her notebook. As she was moving her hand brushed Warren’s, making him turn even redder.

He tried to follow Peter’s advice, but wasn’t any good at keeping his “chill” around the girl of his dreams.

She touched my hand!

(Y/n) laughed a little when she heard his inner voice. To mess with him further, she placed her hand on his arm while explaining the first practice problem.

She’s- She’s touching me! Oh god, she’s so pretty.

Her face heated up from Warren’s internal comments. (Y/n) flipped the page, reading out loud about the limit definition formula. Her right hand was flipping pages as her left fell to Warren’s thigh.

“So as x approaches h, you can use the same power rule to avoid solving for h and f...”

Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck. I- what the fuck.

Suddenly Warren coughed, his head whipping down and back up quickly, but (Y/n) continued reading as if she didn’t notice.

Oh god, will she notice I have a boner? Oh fuck, I’m awful!

(Y/n) suddenly choked on her words, looking at Warren quickly.

“Wh- I mean, uh, which problem should we start with?”

Warren shrugged, face bright red, “U-uhm, any is fine.”

They studied for the next hour and half, (Y/n)’s hand occasionally hitting Warren just to see his reaction.

After their studying session, (Y/n) returned to her dorm room, frustrated that Warren hadn’t asked her out when she was being so obvious that she liked him!

“I guess I need to do a little bit more,” she thought to herself.

The next day in their training period, she had decided to partner up with Warren (who of course immediately said yes). Raven was teaching about how to throw an opponent off balance by kicking out their legs from under them and pin them down.

Oh great, so I’ll be spending today on top of (Y/n), Warren thought. His face burned at the idea of (Y/n) pinning him down.

(Y/n) smiled, loving the way he blushed so easily. She spent the next half an hour repeatedly pinning him to the ground, smiling at him from above.

“Gotcha!”

Warren laughed, “S-sure do.”

By the end of training, Warren felt as though he couldn’t breathe. Not because he was tired, but because (Y/n) always made him breathless.

She approached him where he was drinking from the water fountain. “You’re cute when you blush, by the way.”

Warren spun around to face her, “T-thanks? Thanks. So, uh, so are you. Not- not just when you blush, I mean- like-”

“Thank you,” she cut off his rambling.

Ask me out! Ask me out! Please!, she thought.

Warren nodded, scratching the back of his neck.

You know what? Fuck this!, (Y/n) thought.

“I know you like me.”

“W-what?” he sputtered out. “I- I don’t, I don’t like you! W-where did you hear that?”

“Well, sorta heard it from you. I really didn’t mean to look into your head, it just kind of happened.”

Warren gulped, eyes wide, “O-oh. O-okay, sorry.”

“What, no don’t be sorry! I like you too!”

Warren let out a long breath, “Why didn’t you lead with that?!”

“Just wanted to tease you a bit more.”

“That’s evil!”

“Oh, you love it.”

taglist: @chocolatealmondmilkshake @thoughtlesspace @chxrrymoons@babebenhardy@rexorangecouny@cyndagoaway@killcomet@mcrmarvelloki@queen-turtle-boiii@hardlylo@ziggymay@jacqueline1916@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ixchel-9275@queen-baelin @radiob-l-a-hblah@kurt-nightcrawler@kellypenac@disaster-rose

hmu to be added!^

#Warren Worthington #Warren Worthington III #warren worthington iii smut #warren worthington imagine #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington iii x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader

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dalamjisung · 5 years

Text

the picture worth a thousand words ❊ kim seungmin

genre: fluff

word count: 3902

pairing: reader x kim seungmin

description: people say a picture can be worth a thousand words, but you are a writer and that ain’t flying with you. Until you met him; photographer Kim Seungmin.

There was nothing particularly wrong with you. At least not that you knew; but you still felt like there was something missing. Every night, before going to bed and after doing your usual n nightly routine, you’d sit down on your bed, and think. You have a great job. You graduated from a good university. You have amazing friends. You have a beautiful house. But why did you feel like there was no reason in celebrating all that? Why did you feel so alone? You wanted to share all of that with someone; to wake up in your apartment to the sight of made breakfast and the love of your life in an apron, laughing the kind of laugh that would make happiness bubble in your stomach. You wanted someone to pick you up at your job so they could take you to an impromptu date, or someone who you could talk about the good old day of college. Being alone was fun, but just for a little while. You were older now, and you missed that companionship that all your friends seemed to have.

No, you would alway chastise yourself. You don’t need a man to be happy. And you really didn’t; you knew you were thankful for all you had, for all you achieved. You could easily be happy on your own, but you didn’t really want to. And that made all the difference.

Sighing, you gave up on yet another sleepless night. The night left as quick as the morning came and it was time for you to clock in to work. As you ran to the office, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach growling, complaining about not receiving any breakfast.

“I’ll eat after the meeting,” You promised yourself, hoping your body would somehow understand and behave during your presentation.

You worked in a magazine, writing for the arts and culture section, and this meeting would decide on a very important pitch you had been pushing forward for a while; a personal interview with the up and coming photographer, Kim Seungmin. You were a great admirer of his early work, loving the simple way that texture and color mixed in his pictures, managing to really evoke some feeling in you– some feeling you couldn’t quite name it, just feel it. This interview could change your career, as well as his, and you truly believed it could benefit both of you. You were tired of having to always write about the same things and the same people; it was time to write about things that were truly new, truly inspiring. You deserved this, and so did many other people.

“Good morning,” You say, smiling as you walk into the meeting room where your boss, supervisor, and assistant sat. “Shall we begin?”

They all nod, smiling too. Your company was incredible like that; it was casual, with spaces where you could work with your colleagues without the pressure of deadlines. They re-enforced that friendships in the working space optimized the workload in half, and that colorful and open spaces made the workers more engaged, instead of separating people in cubicles. You had your own table, but there was no wall separating you from your peers. Everyone smiled. Everyone truly enjoyed what they did. This was your dream job, and if could simply convince these three people that it was time for a content upgrade, you’d be on cloud nine. You could feel it; it would change your life.

“And that it why,” You say, concluding the presentation with a couple of Kim Seungmin’s pictures from his last exhibit. “I believe we need this change. It is not only a chance to connect with a younger audience, but to also introduce a new artist to our older public. We can widen our publication to encompass more than a select number of people; we can get bigger and better, while staying true to our morals and still conveying informative and captivating content.”

They all nod, looking at each other, and your boss gets up. “That’s why we hired you, isn’t it, Y/N? That crazy mind of yours is one of your best. Go ahead; we’re giving you as much time as you need. I believe this project will work out really well for everyone.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” You say, smiling wide and trying to contain your excitement.

“Ma’am my ass,” She laughs. “Back in the days you’d refer to me as senior sister…”

You laugh with her. Your boss wasn’t that much older, but actually very close in age to you. She had been the senior responsible for you during your orientation and freshman year, and as soon as she heard you graduated, she offered you a job. You started low; just an unpaid intern, and in the passing two years since the, you managed to climb your way up to payed columnist. You were proud of you and of her.

“You got it, didn’t you?” Your friend, Lisa, asks as you sat on your table. She was a reviewer for the magazine, enjoying the life of testing out new products for the magazine. She called ‘pampering herself while getting paid.’ “I can see it on your face, you did. Wow! Congratulations!”

“I’m so happy,” You squeal, looking at your friend laughing at you. “This will be great!”

“You finally get to meet your idol,” Lisa jokes and you throw a pen at her.

“I simply admire his job,” You say, squinting your eyes. “That’s why I insisted on this pitch so hard.”

“Pff, sure,” Lisa rolls her eyes. “Let’s not focus on the fact that he is drop dead gorgeous.”

“Oh my gosh Lisa,” You mumble, facepalming yourself. “He is not a product to be tested.”

“You never know,” She says winking. “Maybe he is interested.”

“Don’t you dare hit on my assignment!” You gasp, laughing.

“I would never!” Lisa says, and you two are almost rolling on the floor at this point.

You knew she’d never hit on Kim Seungmin (unless he started it, of course.) She always joked like that, complaining about how her job never introduced her to hot people like yours did. It’s not fair, she’d whine playfully. You’ve met all of my favorite idols! Kim Namjoon, Ahn Hyoseop, Jackson Wang! Should I keep going? You’d shrug and chuckle. Sure, it was really cool talking to all of those people, their stories were simple incredible, but you knew about the restrictions placed on them through their companies. You knew the reservations they had, and that half of the information was just generalized answers to questions they weren’t allowed to answer. This is why you were so interested in Kim Seungmin; he wasn’t represented by an entertainment agency nor was he under any contract– he was an independent artist.

You had a response to your initial email right as you came back from lunch.

Dear Ms. Y/N Y/L/N,

Thank you so much for contacting me. I’d love to help you with whatever you might need. However, I am in the middle of photographing for my new exhibit, so I’m afraid I won’t have time to sit down properly and answer all your questions. If you don’t mind me suggesting, you could tag along for a few days to experience my day to day life first hand, and ask your questions as well.

I hope to hear from you soon,

Kim Seungmin.

“Holy shit!” You gasp. This was much better than you expected. You’d be lying if you said that the thought of asking to accompany him on his daily routine as he photographs didn’t cross your mind, but you refrained yourself from pushing too hard, very aware that some artists are not enthusiastic of sharing their muses and inspirations with others.

“What?” Lisa runs to your table, leaning on the back of your chair and reading the email carefully. “Holy shit!”

You both start brainstorming for quick and efficient questions, skipping the obvious ones and going straight for the ones that dwelled deeper into his work and exhibitions. This had potential to be your best work so far, and you could feel it. Once you both came up with a list of about thirty questions, it was almost the end of the day.

“I’ll get going,” Lisa said waving. “Don’t stay here too late!”

“I’ll just answer some emails and leave,” You smile. “See you tomorrow!”

Cracking your fingers, you tried to control your emotions.

Dear Kim Seungmin,

Thank you for your quick response and for the great suggestion. I’d love to tag along, if it won’t be a problem for you!

When would it be a good time to start?

All the best,

Y/N Y/L/N.

You were about to close your laptop when a new email came in.

Dear Ms. Y/N Y/L/N,

I’m starting to photograph for a series tomorrow! If you’d like, we could meet at 10AM at the coffee shop right by the corner of Main Street?

Let me know!

Kim Seungmin.

You smiled.

Perfect! See you then.

————————

Waking up was not hard simply because once again you didn’t sleep. Getting out of bed, though, was incredibly difficult. You were super excited, but once again your body felt like it had no energy, the two hours you seemed to have managed a light sleep not serving for much. When you finished getting dressed, you notice you barely had time to make it to the coffee shop, so unfortunately, no breakfast would be possible.

You run all the way there, cursing your laziness that led you to be this out of shape. Getting inside the shop, you sigh, looking to the sides while putting your hair up in a ponytail. It’s then that you hear a sharp, dry snap! Your head whips to your right and you finally find him, with his camera pointing at the coffee mug. Kim Seungmin. The tip of his tongue is showing through his teeth as he absentmindedly looked at his pictures.

“Hi,” You say gently as you approached him. His eyes, sparkling and large, look at you and he blushes intensely, gulping down. “Kim Seungmin, right?”

“Y-Yeah,” He stutters a bit, and you chuckle. “Look, abou-“

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” You clarify, not wanting him to think you were a fan bothering him on his free time. “We emailed yesterday?”

“You’re Y/N???” He gasps, putting his camera down and offering you his hand. “I didn’t expect you to be so… young.”

You laugh at that. “It’s fine, I didn’t really expect you to know what I looked like.”

“Yeah,” He laughs. “Sorry about that. Do you want anything to eat? I went ahead and ordered coffee…”

“Oh,” Your stomach grumbles. “I’d love that actually. Do we have time?”

He shrugs. “I don’t really have a time table to follow, so sure.”

You guys start talking about yourselves, and you do what you always do; you try to establish a connection to you interviewee so that they feel more comfortable talking to you, and that means also talking about yourself, in the most superficial level possible. This time, though, was different. You felt as if not only you were doing that, but him too. He asked questions about you and your life, and he seemed genuinely interested in what you told him. You felt really comfortable with him, and you were excited for the rest of the day.

“Are you done?” He asks, with a small smile. You nod and you two leave, walking side by side.

With your eyes on him, you noticed his stance; camera in hands, always at chest level, ready to snap pictures at the slightness movement that caught his eyes. In between, while you guys walked around the city, you asked some of your prepared questions.

“What is this series about?” You ask, notebook in hand. “If you don’t mind me asking, of course…”

He chuckles. “The mundane life,” He says looking around, eyes laying on you, hair up, looking down at your notebook. Snap. You look up and he is staring at the children ahead. “I want to portray the beauty that people ignore everyday. It’s a new theme even for me, I don’t know if you are familiar with my past work but-“

“I am,” You say, smiling wide. “I love your pictures, really. They were one of the few I’ve seen that actually talked to me.”

And you could’ve melted at his smile. “Thanks!”

He keeps talking about his work and you guys walk, and you kept hearing snap! snap! snap! but it always seemed to be when you were writing. You were a little upset that because you had to do your job, you couldn’t watch him do his, but you were sure you’d see those pictures later.

“What I’m looking for,” He said as you two sat down on yet another coffee shop, now with the sun already gone. and a sandwich instead of breakfast in front of you. “Is for that one picture, yeah? The one that people always talk about– the one worth a thousand words. And I think I’m on the right path to find it.”

You’d definitely quote him on that one.

For three days, both of you followed a routine; meet at the coffee shop at 10AM, walk around a different neighborhood each time, have lunch, walk some more, and then talk a little more over dinner, although dinner time was reserved for you two to bond as friends and not work assignments. You grew to enjoy his company, in these past days, and enjoy your dinners even more. You found out he is a fan of Day6 and that he sometimes can look like a puppy when he smiles. You learn that he has an older sister and that being a photographer was always his dream. But Seungmin also learned new things; he got to know who much of fan you were when you accidentally mentioned on of his first famous pictures. He found out that you are allergic to cats but that you still adore them, although your dream is to one day raise a Corgi named Moose.

As you talked, you barely noticed his hands on his phone, stealthily snapping away. You were simply too into your memories of when you would write people’s essays in college for a small fee that you barely noticed him doing his thing. Actually, this was one of the things he loved to found out the most; how immersed on an assignment you could get, that you would barely notice the world around you still spinning. Or him taking pictures of you.

It was now the last dinner; your week over. This had been the best week of the past few months, if you had to be truthful. You would wake up energized because you finally could sleep. You would eat delicious food slowly because you finally had someone to talk to during meals. You adored your days with Seungmin. But they had finally come to an end. And you feared that so would your friendship.

————————

Dear Y/N,

I hope you haven’t forgotten me yet (it’s been only three weeks since we last saw each other.)

I read your article about me. I loved it! You definitely painted me in a light I’ve never seen myself, but I still want to thank you for being truthful and inspiring when you talked about my work.

I am emailing you to finally announce that my exhibition opening will be tomorrow, at 7PM at The Gallery. I hope you can make it! I organized everything so that your name will be on the VIP list with a plus one; you can bring your friend you talked so much about, she sounded fun! I hope to see you there!

Love,

Seungmin.

“Love?” Lisa asks, as you both read the email for the fifth time. “What the-“

“Language,” You shush her. “Oh my gosh, what does he mean by that?”

“Love.” Lisa tries again. “Love love love… you guys really hit it off, didn’t you?”

“Lisa, no!” You whine, blushing intensely. “I mean… there were times when I thought we were getting closer, but after the week ended he never texted me! Not even to talk about the article, so I don;tknow what to think anymore.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” She shrugs. “Now let’s go, girly. We need to get ready for a very important event tonight.”

With the permission of your boss, you two leave early, straight to your house. On the way, you kept stressing about which dress to wear, or which shoes would match, and you’d sigh in frustration. That wasn’t you. You didn’t stress about things like this; you were cool and collected.

It took a couple of hours and you were sure you’d make it there a little bit late, but as soon as you two were ready, Lisa having borrowed some clothes from you, you left. The taxi ride was terrible; you were so anxious that you could throw up. Something in your gut told you that tonight would be… a surprise. And you weren’t sure if that was good or bad.

“Okay, we’re at the door,” Lisa whispered smiling to the security and giving him your names. “You have to calm down. You look like you’re about to run.”

“That’s because I am!” You whispered, looking at your friend as you walked in.

“Don’t be an enjoy the show!” She winks and walks away.

Sighing, you start roaming around, noticing one room in particular was closed off. Some pictures on the wall made you want to laugh, because you knew that as soon as he snapped that picture, Seungmin tripped and feel on his butt. The next one made you smile fondly, watching the two kids on their bikes. The sunset gave off the perfect lighting and you could only see one hand from the right side, a worried mother that ran after her babies. You went through the exposition like that, remembering each and all moments with the photographer. Once you were done, you were a little confused. You could’ve sworn he took more pictures than that.

“Excuse me!” Seungmin called from the center of the room, his back to you and Lisa, who brought you a glass of champagne. “I’d like to say a few things tonight. First of all, thank you all for coming. It means a lot to see all my friends and family united to support me. Secondly, I wanted to talk a little about this series, and about the surprise series in the next room.”

So that’s what it was. A surprise collection. Intrigued, you listened carefully.

“For the past days I have been working endlessly to make this dream come true, and I finally did it. I managed to capture moments of the daily life that, for us spectators, don’t mean much when we see them on the street, but that printed and edited seems to mean a lot. This is a calling; please pay more attention to your daily life. Smell the flowers. Listen to children laugh. Have fun as you walk to work everyday at 6AM.”

People laugh at that. He did too, and you smiled, watching as his cheeks puffed out in pride.

“The next room, though, was inspired on my own daily routine for the week I was taking these shots. I wasn’t alone that time; I was lucky to have an incredible companion with me, and unfortunately she doesn’t seem to be here, but you still get to see what I did for seven days straight.”

Lisa elbows you and your mouth is agape. You are sure you look like an idiot, but you couldn’t believe this. Was he talking about you?

“I promised this person that I would find what I was looking for– a picture worth a thousand words. How funny is it that she’s a writer?” People laugh yet again, but you can’t even muster breathing at this point. “And I did it. In the next room, you will see a series of shot of this person who now has turned into my muse. And in the center, the thousand words. Have fun, and thank you!”

Following the crowd before he could spot you, you enter this mysterious room, feeling lightheaded as you did. Your face was everywhere.

A picture of you writing on your notebook, the sun hitting only half of your face.

A picture of you sipping on your coffee while looking out the window. A thunder illuminating your face, contradicting the peacefulness you remember feeling that one stormy afternoon.

A picture on you laying on the grass, relaxing a little as he hunted more pictures.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” Lisa gasped. “How?”

“I don’t know.” And you really didn’t. How didn’t I notice this before?

And in the center, hanging from the ceiling, bigger than the others, you. Your eyes curious and wondering, arms up, putting your hair on a ponytail, and a coffee bar behind you. You had to admit, you looked ethereal; like a faraway beauty. And the name, written in small print, the picture worth a thousand words. Not ‘a picture,’ the picture. To say you were about to cry was an understatement.

You walk away from the room, heels clicking on the ground and suddenly a deja-vu hits you; snap! snap! snap! The sound of the camera shutter echoing on your mind.

So that’s what that was, you think, still walking, decidedly. He was taking pictures of me.

You find him talking to a waiter in another room, soon dismissing him with a wave and a smile.

“Ya Kim Seungmin!” You call loudly, making him jump from the scare. His eyes go wide as he sees you approaching, stuttering nonsense and and pointing at you. “Are you crazy?”

And as you say that, your hands go to his chubby cheeks– the same ones you’ve been dying to squeeze– and pull his face towards you. Your mouth touches his and there is nothing smooth or delicate about it. It’s urgent, desperate almost, and you blush at the thought. He is quick to get out of his trance and to bring you closer with his hands on your waist. He slows down the kiss, leading you, coaching you. He does what he’s been wanting to do since he saw you and he entangles his hands on your hair. It takes a while for you two to separate, and when you do you hide your face on his chest, laughing lightly. His heart is beating like crazy.

“Warn a girl first,” You tease, raising your head to see his eyes shine in the way you love so much.

“Look who’s talking!” He gasps. “You just attacked me!”

“I just… had a lot to say.”

“And what was that?”

“A kiss is worth a thousand words,” You whisper in his ear, laughing as he shivers. “Didn’t you get the memo?”

“I don’t think so,” He pretends to think about it. “Do it again and see if it works.”

Laughing, you start approaching him again. Foreheads touch first. Eyes make contact. And just as your lips were about to touch you hear-

“Is that the girl from the pictures?!”

And if you could hit Lisa, you would.

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