› with the royal council pressuring you to produce an heir, you try and give in to their requests and find a husband that will give you a child—just not from the person they’ve been thinking of though, but rather from the man who has always been secretly in your heart.
pairing: taehyung x reader
word count: 10.5k
content: light angst | fluff | smut | secret relationship au | modern royalty au | heavily based on ‘the king: eternal monarch’ | ft. royal guard!taehyung, queen!reader, prime minister!jimin
warning/s: light tones of sexism | talks about parents passing away | explicit sexual content | swearing | oral (f. + m. receiving) | brief handjob | breast play | nipple sucking | unprotected sex (it’s fiction yall okay always be safe !!) | cum eating | soft mushy vanilla sex tbh
opening note. finally, my first taehyung one shot after being on hiatus last year 🤧 this is my first royalty au fic too and my knowledge of it is quite limited so if i have things stated wrong here, i apologize !! plus, i really have mixed emotions about this fic since i think it’s really,,, a mess sjdksjs and writing this took all of my brain cells so pls be nice to me 🥴
special thank you to @yoongberries and @kimcritique for beta reading this fic and keeping up with me as i complain how this story took my soul SKSKSJS you guys are the bestest 🥺💞
Taehyung stares at you as you sit there by the edge of the dock, looking afar with your palms supporting half of your body while leaning back. From how you look at the moment, you appear young and calm, like a woman who was simply enjoying her day by this place, and not someone who had the burden of being the queen of the Kingdom of Corea on her shoulders. He gets reminded of the first time he met you—you, who was only ten that time, while he was fifteen, being introduced by your fathers who were great friends while serving in the military—as compared to things you were experiencing now, you definitely had it easier way back then.
“Captain Kim?” A voice from his ear-in speaks and he focuses his attention elsewhere. “Prime Minister Park is here.”
“Prime Minister Park?” he repeats, furrowing his eyebrows. “For what reason? It’s not Friday today.”
“He says he needs to speak of important matters with Her Majesty.”
“Her Majesty specifically requested to have free time for the first half of this day. Did he not get the memo? Just tell him that whatever it is, he can just submit a written report about it.”
“But he really insists on speaking to her personally, Sir.”
He sighs and glances at you again who is now looking down at the water, the edge of your toes touching the surface, splashing some of it away with an amused look on your face. It was a rare occasion to see you this relaxed really, being so in peace, that the mere thought of just asking you to go back to the palace with him was something he was definitely dreading to do.
“Alright,” he says nonetheless, “I’ll be bringing Her Majesty with me. Give us at least twenty minutes.”
Taehyung begins walking towards where you are, his footsteps heard against the wooden floor of the dock that before he even stops beside you, you’re already glancing up at him, squinting since the sky above the both of you glowed and slightly hurt your eyes, a small smile on your features nonetheless.
“You look like you got pooped on, Taehyungie,” is what you say, snickering and turning back to the sea.
“Prime Minister Park is at the palace, Your Majesty.”
You raise an eyebrow and hastily snap your head towards him again. “He is? For what reason?”
“Important matters, he says.”
“Ah,” you sigh, nodding and pulling your legs back to you, Taehyung helping you stand up by grasping your hand and lifting you up, “guess I should probably head back then, right?”
He shakes his head contrary to what you were expecting as a response. “I doubt it’s anything really important though. Prime Minister Park tends to say white lies about a situation to meet with you often. I can just tell Hoseok to tell him that you won’t be going back to the palace soon.”
“But what if it’s a real problem? I can’t just assume that he’s not telling the truth.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s not.”
You snort, using the hand that was still in his to pull him closer to you, Taehyung stumbling but you easily catch him in your awaiting arms, wrapping them around his torso that causes him to blink rapidly, getting flustered at the sudden boldness of your actions as he clears his throat and takes a look around your surroundings cautiously.
“Are you jealous?” you ask.
“Your Majesty, someone might—” He ignores your question, trying to drop your arms around him but you wouldn’t budge.
“We’re the only ones here. I specifically told Agent Jung that no others would be needed to follow since I have the captain with me.”
Taehyung gives up and takes off his ear-in instead before he presses his lips together into a straight line. “I’m just saying that we still need to be more careful.”
“You still aren’t answering my question.”
“I’m not. I’m not jealous.”
You smirk and place your chin on his chest, staring up at him. “Really?”
“Then why are you preventing me from going?”
“Because I don’t want you to waste your time on him.”
“Ah, of course.” You roll your eyes, aware that he’ll just keep denying it even if you ask him again and again. “Anyways, you haven’t even given me attention all day,” you say, your lips pouting at him. “You know why I’m here, don’t you? Why aren’t you comforting me?”
It was early in the morning when you called him via the phone line that connects to his room, saying that you were going to the docks today and enjoy the breeze of the sea and the view of the mountains from the far off facing island. You told him it was mandatory for him to go with you, so right after breakfast, you would expect to see him at the stables where you’ll be waiting to take your horses and leave. And he did obviously, but he knows better than to believe that enjoying the scenery would be your real reason for heading here.
Taehyung caresses the top of your head, smoothing your hair flat as the wind continuously blows some strands away, and you close your eyes, smiling. “How are you?” he asks then and you embrace him tighter, pressing your cheek against his chest as you stare below, enjoying the warmth his body gives you.
“Are you sure?”
You look up. “Well, it’s been a year since my parents died—and I’m here in the same place we often go to—so am I?”
“I’m okay,” you say again before he can start a speech on how to feel better. “Not 100%, but I am. Besides, I have you here.”
“Then you should know too that you can tell me anything and I’ll listen.”
“I know.” You let go of him and fix his tie. “And I also know that it’s still pretty illegal to call the queen by her first name.”
He breathes out a laugh as you do the same, playfully tightening the tie around his collar. “Well, you wouldn’t possibly order to kill the head of your security, would you?”
“I could,” you answer without missing a heartbeat, Taehyung giving you a look of surprise before you pull him down to give him a quick kiss on the lips, “but since you’re unbelievably handsome, I’ll let you off the hook.”
He lets out another fond laugh as you start marching back to where your horses were staying, glancing back at him to see that he was jogging behind you to match your pace, putting his ear-in again while you extend your hand to him.
Taehyung looks at it longingly, as if hesitating, but still takes it at the end, causing you to grin.
“Your Majesty,” Prime Minister Park, or perhaps Jimin to you as he so kindly offered the first time you met, smiles once you enter your office, bowing his head down also in greeting.
He was dressed in a black suit with black slacks, a white dress shirt underneath that you note has the first two buttons opened. It makes him appear younger in a way that it looked like he was off attending a wedding as one of the groomsmen rather than visiting the queen. He was always someone who stood out because of his taste in fashion, a quality of his that you noticed he had when he started running for his position.
“Prime Minister Park, what’s so urgent that you have to go here unannounced?” You get straight to the point, heading towards your desk and sitting on the chair while Taehyung stands by the side, chin up and gaze directed forward.
“Well, I’m aware that today might be a hard day for you, Your Majesty. I’m simply here to check how you’re doing,” he says with his hands held behind him.
“I didn’t know checking how I am was part of your tasks.”
He chuckles with effect, gaze glancing down shyly on the floor before he looks at you again. “It could be. It’s not that hard to arrange for it to be included.”
You raise your eyebrows at him, trying to determine what was on his mind but you’re left with nothing. “Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we? Why are you here?”
“Well, Your Majesty,” he showcases another friendly smile, feet leading himself closer to your desk, “the royal council and I have discussed some important matters regarding the future of this kingdom. Matters which obviously includes you, the queen.”
His smirks. “We think it’s best if you start finding a suitable husband, Your Majesty, someone who can stand by you and help you produce an heir. With all due respect, you’re not getting younger by day, and as much as it’s no issue for the extended royal family to be next in line for the throne, it’d be preferred if it came from you.”
You stay looking at him, leaning back on your chair and folding your hands on your lap, tilting your head. “And I assume you’re supposed to be the first running candidate as my husband?”
You don’t see it, but Taehyung’s eyes flicker to you then to Jimin who remains smiling, an unexplainable look in his eyes that he definitely doesn’t show whenever he was out in public. Nevertheless, Taehyung honestly doesn’t question how the royal council would choose him as their top pick on being your future husband since Jimin was as attractive as a man could ever get. He was the youngest prime minister to date with great intellect and charmingly good looks. If he were to be the person who will always stand beside the queen, a lot of your people would be pleased and the royal court would only gain more popularity and perhaps more credibility too. In the short time he served as the prime minister, his approval ratings always skyrocketed.
“Well, yes, Your Majesty.”
You hold his stare. “Well, do I have a say on this or did you along with the council just made a decision behind my back?”
“Please don’t take it as an offense. We are just thinking of what’s best for the Kingdom of Corea.”
“And should my love life concern that?”
“No, of course not.”
“The future leader depends on you.” He chuckles. “I think out of all of the people here, you should understand it the best. After all, we wouldn’t want something to happen that’s similar to your situation right now.”
You clench your jaw. “Care to elaborate on that more?”
“Well, you’re an only child, and a female too. If the late king and queen just listened to what the council said, about trying again until they produce a male successor, then we wouldn’t be talking about this now.”
“Just get to the point.”
“You need a king, Your Majesty,” Jimin says finally and firmly. “Frankly, the royal council isn’t convinced that having a queen on her own to rule this kingdom would be effective. You are the first woman to be reigned as ruler in this monarchy, so you would understand their doubts on it, wouldn’t you?”
“No. I don’t get why they would have doubts on it just because I don’t happen to be a man.”
“You have to have certain… skill sets, you can say.”
“So, basically, you’re saying that I don’t have what it takes to lead this kingdom?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, like a switch being turned on, Taehyung grabs his gun from his holster and points it towards Jimin aggressively, the gesture not even making Jimin flinch or acknowledge it in some way.
You glance at Taehyung while Jimin slowly turns his head to his direction, scoffing lightly as he looks at him, scanning his posture with clearly judgmental eyes, sneering.
“How dare you speak of Her Majesty that way,” Taehyung says with gritted teeth.
“Taehyung,” you sigh, and his heavy gaze flickers to you, “put the gun down. He’s still the Prime Minister.”
“He just insulted you, Your Majesty.”
“I’m well aware of that. However, please, put your gun down.”
Jimin tilts his head at him in a mocking manner, raising his brows, taunting, and Taehyung unwillingly retracts his weapon, putting it back in the holster attached to his hip.
Jimin looks back at you and bows his head. “I didn’t mean it to sound like an insult, Your Majesty. I am just passing along what has been talked about at the meeting with the council.”
You scrunch your forehead. “You’re belittling my capabilities as the queen. How is that not supposed to count as an insult?”
“It’s merely just constructive criticism. It’s nothing personal or something you should take against.”
“Then should I start mentioning some of your flaws too as the prime minister? You know, coming here unannounced and completely ignoring my orders is a sign that you see yourself as someone too powerful.”
“Am I not, though?”
His statement makes you scoff out a laugh while he grins. “Not as powerful as me definitely,” you say smugly, your pettiness somehow getting into you. “Now, please, if that’s the only thing you went here for, you can kindly leave.”
He doesn’t look pleased at your response. “Would you at least think about what I told you today?”
“Of course,” you slide closer to your table and place your elbows on the surface before clasping your hands together, “but let us get one thing clear,” you smile, “if I have to choose the person I will rule this kingdom with, then it is most definitely not you, Prime Minister. I’m just getting that out of the way now before you get your hopes up.”
Jimin raises his eyebrows, eyes appearing darker as he glares at you, but before he can make his true emotions known, he changes his expression quickly, not wanting to appear rude again. It’s obvious by his sudden hard features that he was enraged at what you said, perhaps not expecting that you would already claim such a thing. It wasn’t like you always showed interest in him though. Whenever he would visit, you would remain professional and indifferent.
“Noted.” He smiles, the smile not meeting his eyes and looking forced as it can be. “But let me just remind you too that the council will only give you one month to find a husband. If not, well, I guess you’d have no choice but to settle for me.” He bows his head again. “I wish you a good day, Your Majesty. And my condolences on the death anniversary of the late king and queen.”
You plaster a similar fake smile. “Thank you.”
With a clear of his throat, he adjusts the front of his elegant suit and heads towards the door, not bothering to look back.
The moment he’s gone, you sigh and bring your head down on the desk, your forehead pressed against your forearm. You already weren’t feeling well today because as mentioned, it was your parents’ first death anniversary. The kingdom was supposed to hold a ceremony later after lunch in honor of it, and you were ready to pour all your emotions out earlier at the docks, so that when you attend it later in front of the press and the rest of the royal court along with the government officials and royal council, you won’t be a sobbing mess. And after the talk with Jimin, it just increased your need to cry, but you don’t think you can afford being weak like that in the palace.
You bring your head back up and you're surprised to see Taehyung in front of your table, eyes already looking at you, his gaze full of concern.
You cough, reminded suddenly that it just wasn’t you here in the room, that you straighten your position on the chair quickly as you curve your lips upward. “Yes?”
“You shouldn’t have stopped me when I wanted to shoot him.”
There’s obvious joking in his tone that makes you chuckle weakly. “Don’t worry, I already shot him multiple times in my head.”
“Still, the prime minister should really know his place.”
“I agree.” You sigh. “But he has always been that way, always made it apparent how greedy he is for authority—and now he just won the favor of the council again, which I think I’ll have to arrange a meeting with before lunch. I want to talk about their demands on what Jimin and I talked about.”
“What are your plans regarding it?”
“Well, obviously, they can’t force me to get married in less than a month. That’s ridiculous.”
“It is,” Taehyung agrees. “But the council can be really persuasive most of the time. They might also turn to the public to force you.”
“Yeah, I know. If they do that, then… I might just pull off something completely below the belt too.”
You gaze at him for a long time before pursing your lips. “You’ll know if the meeting ends poorly, Tae. For now,” you reach towards the landline on your table, pressing a number, “hello? Yes, Secretary Yoo, kindly arrange a meeting for me with the royal council members at about 9 o’clock. Just tell them it’s urgent and if they don’t come, then their opinions on what the conclusion might be afterwards won’t be validated. Thank you.”
Taehyung follows you as you suddenly stand up and begin walking to the exit. “Where are you going now, Your Majesty?”
You glance at him, your face no longer showing any sign of nervousness, only contempt. “To my dressing room. I think I have to go wear something that will make my opposition apparent.”
He gives you a look of confusion and a slow nod, not really fully understanding what you mean by that but knowing you, he’s positive you had it all under control.
Taehyung could hear a lot of commotion going on from inside the meeting room, that even he and Hoseok, who were two among the four guards securing the place, would sometimes share glances at each other whenever they’d hear incoherent loud voices from the other side of the door shouting out their takes on whatever you were talking about with them. Until now, he doesn’t get how you can tolerate the council members for sometimes acting rudely in front of you just because you happen to be a lot younger than them, and because it has only been a year too that you were crowned. They seem to have it planted in their heads that you’re someone they can easily manipulate.
After a few minutes more of hearing ruckus inside, the chaos dies down, and then the doors open, the royal council one by one leaving the room. Taehyung quickly scans the area to look for you, seeing you still sitting on the chair situated at the far end of the long table, looking both distressed and bothered.
You stand up, smoothing your eye-catching red suit, before walking to the doors, Taehyung waiting for you.
“How was the meeting, Your Majesty?”
“Good,” you say, gesturing to the other guards to leave the two of you and they bow down, marching away as you turn back to Taehyung. “We reached an agreement. Though to be honest, they didn’t really review their debate very well. Left a few holes for me to go through.”
“I agreed to get married and bear a child,” you sigh, crossing your arms, “but it’s my choice who gets to be my husband. The council kept on insisting that Prime Minister Park is the best option out there, but marrying for convenience has been long abolished in this monarchy, hasn’t it? So, I told them I would choose who I would want to marry.”
“And? What did they say about it? Surely, they wouldn’t just accept your claim and call it a day.” Taehyung feels anxious all of the sudden, not knowing exactly where this was going but was having a bad gut feeling about it.
“Yes, they tried telling me otherwise, of course. They said it applies only if the king is involved, and not when a queen is. But I said that gender roles shouldn’t be taken into account. After all, I’m still part of the royal family, and regardless who the king might be—whether he knows politics or is quite clueless about it—I still get to be the ruler of this kingdom at the end. I still get the last say.”
“So,” you raise your eyebrows, biting on your lip slightly as you appear hesitant, your eyes though still holding confidence, “would you fancy marrying me, Tae?”
Straightforward. You’ve always been ruthlessly straightforward. It was a trait of yours that he still had a hard time grasping, always leaving him speechless and unguarded. And like right now, he can’t find the proper words to answer your question.
He blinks. “Um—”
“No, Your Majesty.” He bows his head down. “I can’t.”
You stare at him. “Alright.”
When he lifts his head again, he sees you striding away, and he hurriedly catches up with you. “Alright?” he repeats. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Alright. Okay. I get it,” you explain, exhaling harshly. “I’ll ask you again another time.”
“Woah, woah—” He blocks your way and you halt. “Ask me again another time? Your Majesty, look, you know I—I love you—with all my heart—but—”
“You’re too self-righteous, Taehyung.” You cut him off. “Of course, I already know that you won’t be convinced in one try.”
“There won’t be a next time,” he says. “I can’t marry you. We’re not right for each other.”
“You know, I can specifically remember you telling me that too before we started dating.”
He swallows hard at that. “Yes, but I didn’t think that—”
“After six years, we’d still be together?” you ask. “Yeah, me too, love.”
“____,” he sighs, restraining himself from holding you or speaking too loudly for the both of you were still in the palace hallways, CCTV cameras watching your every choice of action, “we can’t get married. It would ruin you. Your reputation—what would they say if they knew you were in a relationship with me?”
“I don’t know—the Royal Public Affairs says that almost all of the people ‘ship’ us together.”
“It’s a term they apparently use for two people they see who look good together.”
“____, please, take what I’m saying seriously.”
“I am.” You laugh. “I’m having an adult conversation with you about it. What do you want to hear from me?”
“That you understand and won’t ask me again.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Because I love you,” you tell him with a relaxed smile, “and I’m not letting anyone be the father of my future child but you. If that’s what the council insists, then this is what I insist too.”
His stomach drops.
Taehyung admits that he imagined more than once about having a family with you, and at nights when he’d allow himself to say it out loud while the two of you are in yours or his sleeping chambers, he finds himself wishing that it was really possible, only he knows it wasn’t that easy. He can’t say it was entirely impossible, but when he was him and you were you, he doesn’t want to keep on holding onto a wish that has no assurance to be granted.
Yet here you were, making it seem like what he wanted was coming true.
“I can’t,” he says again however, his own morals still getting the best of him. “I really can’t.”
You press your lips together, wanting to say something but before you can reply, Secretary Yoo’s footsteps cause you to turn sideways to see her.
“Your Majesty,” she greets with a bow, “Head Lady Lee wants you to get ready for the late king and queen’s death anniversary ceremony.”
You nod at her. “Alright.” You then turn to Taehyung and give him a look. “We’re not done talking about this.”
He clenches his jaw, no choice to behave now that there’s someone with the two of you.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Captain Kim,” Jeongguk, one of the best trainees among the royal guards, glances at Taehyung, “did you and Her Majesty fight?”
Taehyung looks at him, averting his gaze from you who was taking a walk with the prime minister along the garden, discussing the report he had to give you weekly.
You have been smiling and laughing too much the whole time to be honest, totally different from the usual attitude you would show to Jimin. Taehyung knows, however, that it was you attempting to get into his nerves and somehow prove a point. What point? He wasn’t sure, and he also wasn’t sure why making him jealous was supposed to convince him that marrying you was the right thing to do. Though he can’t deny that it was still slightly working.
Jimin looked overall too pleased since last week to see that you were somehow reciprocating his flirty gestures. To think of it, Taehyung felt sorry for him to be used as a tool to make this ridiculous lover’s quarrel ignite even more, but because of his hatred for the man who had dark motives in trying to win your heart as well, he starts to care less. Still, his annoyance was still there, especially when Jimin would bravely flirt with you in a more physical way—tucking a loose strand behind your ear, holding your waist as he guides you to this place, and leaning in too close whenever you two would speak.
“Oh, I just meant that…” Jeongguk clears his throat. “Her Majesty doesn’t look happy whenever you two talk.”
“Her Majesty and I aren’t that close.” He looks forward again, now catching you place a hand on Jimin’s bicep, Taehyung’s hands forming into a fist.
“But you and Her Majesty are childhood friends, right?”
“So, obviously you’re close.”
“Funny how you say ‘obviously’ like you’ve known us your entire life.”
“I’m sorry, Sir, I just mean that—”
“Just keep your attention on the queen, Jeon.” He gives him the side-eye. “And stop gossiping around.”
Jeongguk stands straighter. “Yes, Sir.”
Taehyung shakes his head a little and places his attention back to you.
It wasn’t like he was counting, but it has been three times since he said no to you whenever you asked him about marriage since that day after the royal council meeting, and it was obvious that you were growing angry and impatient because of his insistence of really not doing it. Each time, he had to explain to you that it wasn’t that he didn’t want to marry you because he didn’t love you—but it was because he loved you too much that he knew he shouldn’t marry you. You would roll your eyes, give him a glare, say a remark about his no good morals, before leaving him with a frustrated expression on your face, always making it clear that you and him weren’t going to go back to normal until he changes his mind.
He thinks you’re being childish, but it was probably because you were put into pressure to find a husband at the same time as well. If you weren’t going to be successful in convincing him, you were bound to choose Prime Minister Park instead like the council says—
Though judging by how you’re still laughing with Jimin as he tells a joke perhaps, marrying the prime minister might be the least of your worries.
“I’ll see you next Friday, Your Majesty,” Jimin grins with a bow.
You smile, returning the gesture. “Will look forward to it.”
Jimin glances at Taehyung who remains immobile, a smirk on his face before walking away to go with his secretary out of the palace. As he strides away, Taehyung hears you sigh which makes him look at you.
You look pretty today, too pretty and dolled up, even wearing that dress you were well aware he liked on you, that just letting his gaze fall on you has Taehyung wanting to grimace because he knows it’s not for him, but for Jimin.
Well, technically, it still was him that you were dressing up for, but not just entirely in his favor.
“I plan on going to the docks later,” you tell him. “So, I want the yacht prepared and I want you to come with me too.”
“Where do you plan to go?”
He raises an eyebrow at that. “Okay. I’ll inform the other guards to—”
“No, it’s just you that I need,” you say, lips curving up into a knowing smile. “Besides, I don’t think it’d be necessary to arm the yacht with guards when I’m only going to be around the area.”
“Why do you even have to go around the area at night?” There’s annoyance in his tone that has Jeongguk, who was still there, glancing at him surprisingly.
You look at Jeongguk, flashing a small smile. “You can go.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
As he scurries off, you cross your arms and look back at Taehyung to answer his question. “Because I want to. Is there a problem?”
“Yeah, you’re ambushing me.”
“Ambushing you? Ambushing means being attacked in surprise—you don’t look surprised now, do you?”
“When are you going to let this go?”
“Let what go?”
“This, Your Majesty.” He sighs. “You’re trying too hard to annoy me. You’re not talking to me properly, you ignore what I’ve been saying, you’re off flirting with the prime minister—it’s immature.”
“I wouldn’t be doing this if you just considered what I’m asking you to do.”
“Do you know how ridiculous marrying your bodyguard sounds?”
“You’re not just my bodyguard.”
“I am. I have been since you were fifteen.”
“You’ve been more than that since I was eighteen.”
Taehyung stares at you, a pained expression on his face. You really were too stubborn to deal with—he thinks it might be because all your life, you always had everything handed to you. You were the sole princess after all, and the only apparent heir to the throne since as mentioned before, your parents didn't bother having another child. But Taehyung also knows that you weren’t this selfish, and you wouldn’t be this selfish if you felt like you didn’t have any other choice.
“If I marry you, do you think it equates to us living happily ever after?”
“Please,” you huff a breath, “don’t treat me like I’m a kid who doesn’t know what she’s getting into.”
“You’re giving me the impression that you are.”
“Taehyung, seriously, when are you going to decide for what you really want and not by what you think is right?”
“I promised your father and mine that I would protect you and look out for you in every I can,” he says sternly. “And getting you pregnant isn’t one of them.”
You dare to laugh. “Well, I beg to differ.”
“I don’t want to argue with you on this again.” You cut him off. “We just say the same things, so whatever you have to say, do know that I could care less.”
“That’s very inconsiderate of you as a queen.”
“I’m not speaking to you as a queen. I’m speaking to you as your girlfriend.”
“Then don’t you think that within a relationship, two sides should be—”
“You say that as if you’ve been hearing my side all the time.”
“I am.” He scoffs. “Which is why I don’t want to—”
“Prepare the yacht at 8 o’clock.” You don’t let him finish talking once more, a hard look on your features, your eyes no longer meeting his. “If I don’t see you at the docks—consider yourself fired, Captain Kim.” You tell him, not waiting for a reply as you march past him, Taehyung biting the insides of his cheeks before letting out a ragged breath.
There really was no way to reason with you.
Taehyung stares at the ceiling above him.
In two minutes, he’s supposed to leave if he wants to arrive at the docks at the right time. He already assigned Hoseok to prepare the yacht and be there in guard for you until he arrives, which honestly, for an hour now, he thinks of not doing.
All his life, he has been there with you—always been by your side; whether guarding you among the crowd, following you around the palace, or just holding you near behind closed doors—he’s been there, and he watched you grow as a strong sophisticated woman who doesn’t grow intimidated with just one threat. You knew your birthright and the power you had because of it, and yet nowadays, from the way you were so desperate to have him in order to produce an heir, it seemed as if that the confidence you had faltered, and he can only guess it’s because of the death of your parents that until now, you were burdened with.
You rarely show any signs of vulnerability to the people you see everyday. On the day you were told that the king and queen didn’t manage to survive in the plane crash they were involved in, you only nodded before excusing yourself to go to your sleeping chambers, locking yourself in and ordering your waiting lady to not bother you throughout the whole day. Taehyung was worried you would do anything rash that time, though when the evening came and you were asked to eat dinner, he was surprised to see you actually coming inside the kitchen to eat, appearing okay though there was still signs of grief in the redness of your eyes and the struggle you had in trying to smile or merely speak.
It has always been apparent to him that you were independent and strong. It was how you were raised by your father who always had the thought of you being the next leader of the country, that seeing you in a rough place after being appointed as the queen of the Kingdom of Corea amidst your pain of losing your parents, woke him up to the reminder that you were human like the rest of them. That no matter how high your title was in this society, in the end, you were still someone who lost two people who were very dear to you, and yet the royal court felt the need to rush you into being coronated. He couldn’t blame them though, they were only following protocol after all, but still, he thinks it was only right if they made sure if you were in the right mental state before doing so.
Rubbing his face, he stands up and gets his coat, running out of the halls to go to the stables and get his horse.
You stare at your champagne glass, swirling the beverage around it with a glum expression. Deep inside, you already know what his course of action was going to be, but still you wanted to give him the benefit of doubt in case he proves to you that doing the right thing for once was the least of his concerns. However, considering how he was eleven minutes late, you think his morals were really made of steel, and there was no way breaking into them.
“Your Majesty,” Taehyung’s voice enters your ears and you freeze, looking up to face the dark sea before turning behind you to see him, head bowed down, “I’m sorry for being late.”
You blink at him. “You came.”
“You asked for me.”
You snort, downing the remains in your glass and walking towards the table to place it back there. “I was ready to leave without you in four minutes.”
“It’s not like you really have a place to go to for you to be in such a hurry.”
“Hey—of course, I do.”
“Anywhere away from you.”
It’s Taehyung’s turn to snort, and you smile. “I’ll get the engine running, Your Majesty. Where do you want to go?”
“Forward. You know where to stop.”
He nods before speaking on the radio, informing the others that the two of you will be leaving as he walks to the cockpit and you go back to your place, enjoying the sea breeze and its scent that you’ve grown fond of.
The yacht starts moving then and you hold onto the railings, realizing now that this was the first time you ever got on this vehicle again after your parents’ death. You tended to avoid it in fear it would bring too many memories, but it was late when you also got reminded that this was your safe haven as well, and instead of swearing not to step foot on it again, you should have cherished it as one of the few things your parents left a good mark on. It’s just that your cowardice to face your emotions got in the way again and so here you were.
After a few minutes, the yacht halts in the middle of the sea, not really far from the docks, but not as close. You almost jump when you abruptly feel Taehyung’s arms wrapping around yours and you glance back, seeing him place his chin over your shoulder.
“You should’ve worn something warmer,” he says, hands rubbing your bare forearms.
“This is weird,” you chuckle now turning around and leaning your back on the railings, “usually I’m the one hugging you first in public.”
“I missed you.” He shrugs. “You’ve been treating me very poorly for the past weeks.”
“It’s because you’ve been treating me poorly too.”
“Just because I don't want to marry you?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, staring at his mouth unconsciously.
Taehyung smiles. “Even though you’ve been driving me nuts, you’re really cute too, you know?”
“What?” You look offended and he laughs, leaning down to capture your lips with his.
You’re surprised at the gesture though can’t help kissing back, undeniably missing his mouth on yours. It is only in these instances wherein you’re completely alone that he manages to be this brave in showing affection, something that you are obviously pleased by. It just never fails to make you melt inside and give in easily, your previous annoyance in whatever he did quickly fading.
“You play dirty,” you murmur, tiptoeing to peck his lips again when he pulls away and he laughs. “You just kissed me as if we haven’t been fighting.”
“Hey, you were the only one mad at me—I wasn’t doing anything bad to you.”
“You’re making me sound as if I’m the bad guy.”
Taehyung laughs, placing a palm on your cheek and gliding his thumb on it gently. “What happened at the meeting with the royal council two weeks ago? You didn’t tell me sufficient details.”
You raise your eyebrows, surprised at the sudden recalling of that event, but you should have expected it coming from him. You could only pretend to appear as something else for a short time when it came to Taehyung, and you didn’t know whether to be thankful for that or frustrated.
“Why are you asking me now?”
“Because I feel like you’re keeping something from me.” He tries searching for your eyes again when you look away, his thoughts at his bedroom giving him the conclusion that you were being like this for the past weeks due to still feeling frail after your parents’ death. “Are you?”
“No. I told you, the meeting went well. We came to the agreement that I would produce an heir, a male heir as they prefer, just as long as I get to choose who I want to marry.”
“That sounds wrong, you know. You wouldn’t agree to that.”
“You wouldn’t agree to that easily.”
You chuckle. “Why not? It would finally stop them from talking, right? Perhaps it would prove my worth as a queen.”
“Your worth as a queen doesn’t revolve in you producing an heir for the throne, ____.” He tells you. “You’re more than that.”
“Am I?” you ask, voice suddenly sounding of doubt and anxiety, something that he hasn’t heard from you for a long time, confirming his worries. “Dad prepared me to be in this position all my life—and I always thought I was ready. But it’s been a year since I was crowned and I feel like I haven’t done anything to truly deserve the honor.”
“Is that why you’re giving into their demands?”
Taehyung sighs. “You shouldn’t.”
“I don’t see the harm in trying to please them.”
“You weren’t raised as a people pleaser. Especially not for the royal council. It’s shady enough that they’re trying to disregard your credibility as the queen.”
“Well, maybe because they’re right.”
“____, are you hearing yourself?” He dares to chuckle. “This isn’t you.”
“Who am I even, Taehyung?” You chuckle with him, tucking your hair behind your ears that were blown away by the wind. “I only used to be the crown princess. I know I should have been more ready to have a responsibility like this but I… I didn’t think I would have this so soon. Mom and Dad were supposed to rule this kingdom until they were in their 70s, perhaps 80s even, and yet they’re… they’re gone.”
“I know.” He frowns. “Still, the late king and queen had faith in you. They know you would handle it.”
“____, look at me,” he places his palms against your cheeks again, “I have faith in you. You always look like you have everything together—if I had known you were having doubts, I would have assured you that you would do great long ago.”
“I don’t think reassurance would help me feel better.”
“Then what will?”
“You saying yes in marrying me.”
There’s lightness in the way you speak now that enables him to smile. “If you want to because you really love me, then okay. Not because it’s what the council wants.”
“Wow, you’re agreeing now?” You raise an eyebrow. “But hey, do you honestly think I’m only asking you because it’s what the council wants?”
“Yes. You’re usually not impulsive like this.”
“This is not me being impulsive.”
“I want you, Taehyung,” you say and he presses his lips together. “Always have and always will. Regardless of what the council needs from me, I’m not allowing myself to be wed with someone that isn’t you.”
He takes a deep breath, letting his thumb graze your mouth as he stares at you solemnly and in deep thought. “Don’t talk like that.”
You chuckle. “Why? Is it getting harder controlling yourself?”
“You need to loosen up, Tae.” You kiss the pad of his thumb. “Sometimes you act all tough, I begin thinking if you really love me or you’re just using me for special treatment.”
He snorts at the subtle teasing. “As if you’re really giving me special treatment, love.”
“Hey, I’m letting you kiss the queen. Isn’t that special treatment enough?”
He laughs and so do you, wrapping your arms around his torso.
He looks down on you as the wind once again blows some strands of your hair away, Taehyung cradling your face and smiling, planting a soft kiss on your forehead before he gently pushes your head against his chest and hugs you tighter.
“Hey,” he murmurs.
“I’m always here for you.”
“You don’t need to hurry and have a child to prove your worth as a leader. I believe in what you can do for this kingdom. Since we were young, you always showed exemplary skills that I am positive are fit to be belonging to an amazing queen.”
You sigh and tighten your embrace, closing your eyes. “Really?”
He smiles. “What are you going to do now then?”
“I’ll…” you purse your lips, “I’ll talk to the council tomorrow.”
“I’ll invoke my authority as the queen of this kingdom.”
You laugh at how he’s treating you like a child that you pull your head back, gazing up at him who still had a fond gaze on you. “By telling them I don’t give a fuck about what they want and do what I want instead.”
Taehyung bites his lip while he grins. “Perhaps tone it down with the profanities, darling, but you’re good to go.”
You pucker your mouth cutely and he leans down to kiss it with that grin still on his face.
He thinks you still taste like that champagne you had earlier, and he could smell the expensive perfume you always wore that you knew he liked on you, causing him to not want to pull back if it weren’t for you who tugs the hair on his nape to make him do so. Staring at your eyes, he can’t help but think he really would stop the world if it meant saving you. Sometimes his duty as your guard got in the way of you being his lover, but at the end, there was one thing he reminded himself to do, and it was to assure that you were always going to be fine.
“I was supposed to seduce you in getting in bed with me,” you admit, always so brutally honest and nonchalant that he chuckles, “yet you decided to give me a pep talk instead.”
“It’s what you clearly needed, Your Majesty,” he whispers, though abruptly glances at his watch. “But you know, you still have… perhaps an hour before I demand that we go back to the palace.”
You raise an eyebrow, fighting off a smile. “So?”
“So…” he places his hands on your sides, caressing them, “if you still want to seduce me, you’re more than welcome to, my queen.”
Taehyung groans as you press yourself closer to him, running your hands along his chest while he keeps a hold on your waist, continuous ragged breaths escaping past his lips as you place open mouthed kisses on his neck. As you pull back to hike you dress higher and remove it off your body, he hastily sits up to help you, kissing your shoulders, your collarbones, down to the cleavage of your breasts while he does so.
It was inevitable. As soon as the opportunity was presented to you, you immediately took it. Thus, you found yourself almost dragging Taehyung to the stateroom, kissing him hungrily, pushing him on the bed and straddling him. Now, it’s been a few minutes of making out, grinding, and sensual teasing touches all over your bodies. It was practically inevitable too that the two of you would hurry to do the next phase, considering the drive you both had in engaging in your previous actions just became higher, that if you weren’t going to do anything about it, you might as well just throw yourselves off the yacht.
As the material of your dress is finally taken off of you, he gently pushes you on the space beside him so that he could be the one on top, making sure his lips would not leave your skin as he carries on undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, planning to take an article of his clothing as well.
“Taehyung,” you whisper, squirming under his touch when his mouth travels lower again, “no teasing tonight, please.”
“I haven’t even started yet,” he reckons with a chuckle before fully removing his dress shirt and tossing it on the floor.
You marvel at his chest, appreciating its build that no doubt was a product of working hard in trying to maintain fit as your royal guard. You let yourself moan a little bit in touching his stomach, missing the way you would lick them on the days you’d make love and particularly felt like it, Taehyung just crumbling under you as you did so.
“It’s been a long time since I took care of you, darling,” he murmurs in your ear, nibbling it softly, causing you to shiver.
Your palms move up to his neck, pulling him down. “No teasing,” you repeat and he laughs again, kissing your mouth.
The way his mouth moves with yours is slow, taking his time, no rush. It only makes you more excited, more eager to take him and let him take you. It really has been a long time since the two of you decided to be this close. You were always busy talking with government officials, attending ceremonies, or plainly just making time for yourself—not to mention your little fight that almost lasted 15 days—that having a feel of his touch now, his fingertips brushing along your skin, has you writhing, just aching to be held.
You heave and gaze at him when he pulls away only to kiss you lower, sweet quick kisses that travel along the valley of your chest as he unclasps your bra, shoving it away before he places his lips on a bud and grunts. You unconsciously wrap your legs over his waist while one of his large hands cups over your other breast, squeezing it until he switches places and it’s the one he’s sucking.
“Taehyung, please,” you whimper.
“So impatient, love.” He groans, poking his tongue on the nipple before swirling it around, another action that has you squirming. “I want to take it slow.”
He chuckles, lifting his head up. “What do you want me to do then, hmm?”
You glare at him, knowing what he was up to but he only smiles, waiting for your reply that has you huffing a breath.
“I want you to…” You sigh.
“What?” He continues to suck on your bud, letting it out with a pop as his eyes look up at you. “Tell me. I’ll do anything you want.”
“Suck my clit.”
Taehyung smirks, giving your breasts wet kisses one more time before scooting lower and dragging your underwear down in such a slow movement. Once he fully removes it though, he’s quickly pushing your knees apart, eyes on your cunt as he licks his lips in anticipation, laying down now and getting a good position right in front of your pussy. He drags two fingers against your heat and you moan, Taehyung leaning in to place his mouth against.
“Shit.” Your eyes roll back inside your head.
His tongue skillfully goes over your folds, teasingly inserting the muscle but pulling back. He then goes over to do as you asked, sucking your clit that emits a slurping sound that arouses you further. You put your hand over his hair and thread your fingers against some of its curly locks, pulling that has him moaning and sending a vibrating feeling against you, making you moan.
“Such a pretty pussy, Your Majesty,” he kisses your cunt breathlessly, trailing his flat tongue from your entrance up to your clit. “All fucking mine, isn’t it?”
“Yes… all yours, always been yours—fuck.”
Taehyung sucks harder, his mouth rapidly doing wonders all over your cunt while his hands caresses your thighs, moving it to your stomach until he reaches your breast, palming it gently then. You hold onto his wrist, lifting your hips slightly towards his face but he pushes it down, grunting and leaning away, spitting on your entrance before diving in again.
The lewd noises intensify and so does the knot that you’ve been feeling at the pit of your stomach, though before you can entertain the feeling, you tug his hair harder that makes him pull back, staring at you dazely as you urge him to sit.
Your lips are back on his as you kneel up, meeting his mouth while you start removing his pants. Taehyung gets the point and helps you, clumsily unzipping it and then dragging it down his thighs, breaking from the kiss for a second to fully get it off his body along with his underwear before he holds onto your face and pushes you back down on the mattress, passionately kissing you and placing himself between your legs.
“Taehyung,” you moan out loud, “please… please I need you.”
Your hand travels down to his navel until you get a hold of cock, jerking it softly, Taehyung groaning and burying his head against your neck. He lets you jack him for a few seconds, lets himself enjoy the feel of your soft and small hand on his cock until he gets your wrist and forces you to let go, instead bringing both of your arms around his neck as he gives open mouthed kisses on your jaw, scooting closer that you start feeling his dick against your entrance.
“Are you ready for me, darling?” His voice comes out shaky.
You whine, nodding feverishly and he snickers, aligning the tip before he pushes it in, slowly filling you up, moaning and breathing heavily until he bottoms out. You let out a strained groan, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of being stretched out and so full, while Taehyung continues to breathe harshly against your neck.
“You’re so tight, holy fuck.” He grazes his fingertips on your knees, pulling you closer. “Every single time—shit.”
“Taehyung—” you cry and he nods, understanding, and captures your lips.
He begins to thrust in and out, keeping a slow pace, hissing every time he would fill you completely. You cling onto him, your arms moving across his back while you bring your legs over his hips, enabling him to pound onto you deeper.
“So good, gorgeous, you feel so good,” he whispers in your ear. “Feels like my cock belongs inside this cunt.”
“Shit—it does. ”
He smiles at the exchange, heaving, getting lost at the way your insides are squeezing him tight.
Taehyung rocks his hips on you faster, your skin slapping together and making you moan out at both the dirty sound and the heavenly feeling. As you force your eyes open wider, you see that he was gazing at you with an enchanted expression, a smirk on his lips that has you clenching at how he looks. The action causes him to grunt before shaking his head and ducking his head to suck on your lower lip.
“I’m so lucky to have you,” he murmurs more. “I’ll never meet someone as amazing as you, darling.”
“Taehyung,” you half-giggle and half-moan, threading your fingers through his hair.
“Love it when you say my name,” he adds with a groan, pulling out halfway before slamming his cock back in harder, “and I love how I’m the only one who can say yours.”
You don’t know if you feel yourself getting close because of his sweet words or how his hips are still deliciously pounding you, either way, you welcome them with whimpers and hisses, not finding the right words to praise him back, too consumed on how he was fucking you too good.
“So in love with you.” He moans, pressing his forehead against yours. “You make me so happy—fuck—I love you so fucking much, you know that?”
“I know.” You begin bucking your hips up to meet his. “I—hnng… love you too.”
Sex always felt more with him. Like a true union and the true feeling of making love—no matter how cheesy that sounds in your head. He always paid attention and kept your needs first, even if there were times when he allowed himself to savor what you were giving him too, it was you who he prioritized still. The thought always makes your heart swell up, the need of him to be with you always and the love you have for him growing bigger.
“Tae—I’m close… I’m close, love.” Your nails dig on the back of his neck.
You nod and he reaches down to play with your clit. You lock your legs around his hips tighter at that, closing your eyes and focusing on how good he was making you feel.
“Gonna come on my cock, hmm?”
You whimper. “Yes.”
“Please,” he pants, his speed calming down yet his thumb is still rapidly circling around your clit, “want to feel you clench around me, my queen. Want you to use me to get off—”
You arch your back. “Fuck—don’t stop, please—”
Taehyung sucks on the skin on your neck, knowing how sensitive you can be on that spot, and rolling his hips on you in a manner that drives you insane, you quickly feel your release, crying out his name in which he picks up his pace again, fucking you amidst your high. Your thighs shake while you squirm, and once you pat his shoulder as a signal that you were starting to become too sensitive, Taehyung pulls out, jerking himself instead to follow you.
You stare at him before forcing yourself to sit up, replacing his hand with yours and putting your mouth over him. Taehyung curses while you moan, tasting yourself and feeling his dick pulsate inside your mouth that you hollow your cheeks.
“____, shit, can I… can I—”
You nod regardless of whether he was asking to come in your mouth or face, and bobbing your head faster, Taehyung groans loudly, his seed then shooting inside your throat as he holds onto your hair, keeping you steady while he carries on grudgingly thrusting his cock in your mouth.
You suck him dry, swallowing everything he has to give, and leaning away, Taehyung grins tiredly above you, caressing your cheeks and then crouching down so he can place his mouth against yours.
“You’re so wonderful,” he murmurs.
“Because I sucked you off?” You tease as your back hits the mattress again and he’s showering your face with kisses.
“No, silly,” he chuckles, pulling back to stare at you lovingly, “because of many things, of course. You rule a country at the age of 24.”
“It isn’t only me. And it’s not like I chose to be.”
“Still,” he brushes the hair out of your face that is sticking on your skin because of sweat, “you accepted the responsibility of being a queen even though you had doubts about yourself. I think I can call that dedication and loyalty.”
You chuckle, now being the one to hold his face. “Stop kissing my ass. You’re flattering me too much to truly convince me not to propose to you again.”
“I thought we already agreed not to get married for the sake of the council?”
“Yeah, but… someday, do you think? Do you think it’s possible?”
“For us to get married?”
“No, for you to stop being a coward. But hey, it’s the same thing, isn’t it?”
He rolls his eyes and kisses your palm. “Someday, yes. Not now. You have more important things to take care of. Particularly a kingdom.”
You’re surprised to find him agreeing again so quickly, though doesn’t bring it up or tease him once more, instead loving it.
His gaze on you softens. “I promise, my love.”
You let out a slow exhale of content. “I’m really grateful to have you, Taehyung. I’m glad I can always have you here beside me.”
“Me too, ___,” he looks fondly in your eyes, nodding. “And I’m always going to be, okay?”
You pull him closer again, kissing him as if you had all the time in the world and he kisses back with a grin, sinking the both of you deeper on the bed.
Taehyung shares a glance with Hoseok again as the commotion inside the meeting room becomes louder.
Compared to the last time, whatever was happening at the other side of the door they’re guarding, definitely sounds more disarrayed and chaotic. His curiosity was taking the best of him since this meeting’s taking longer too, and he thinks that he should have pestered you on insisting that he watches over you from the inside. You have been nervous since morning, took too long in choosing an outfit since you say it’s your battle gear, before you even practiced what you were going to say to them in front of the mirror—and of course, Taehyung, who was still there watching over you.
Abruptly, the door pushes open and Hoseok and him straighten their postures, but instead of the members of the council going out, it’s you who does, appearing calm and even amused as you let the doors close behind you.
“How was the meeting, Your Majesty?” Taehyung immediately asks, following you along with Hoseok forward.
You glance behind your shoulder, meeting his eyes. “Good.”
You chuckle, noticing the slight annoyance in his tone for being so vague. “Well, it turned out better than I expected. Plus, it was in favor of me now.”
“Well, I guess we really won’t have to get married earlier than reckoned, Tae.” You giggle happily before turning around, suddenly noticing that Hoseok was still there standing beside him.
His eyes are wide and he snaps his eyes to Taehyung, the way he was gazing at the captain of the royal guards so accusing yet at the same time confused. Though if Hoseok was really going to be honest, he always had his suspicions, he just wasn’t expecting it to be true.
“Agent Jung, I didn’t know you were still here.” You try to laugh the embarrassment off.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” He bows down.
“Er, well, you already heard it so I don’t get the point of denying it. Just make sure you don’t spread the news around though. Or else I just might exile three generations of your family.”
Hoseok blinks and Taehyung sighs.
“She’s joking,” he assures him.
“Your Majesty.” Taehyung gives you a meaningful look that has you nodding.
“I am joking,” you tell Hoseok with a smile. “You can go now.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Hoseok gives you one more bow and then walks away, leaving you with Taehyung who’s still looking at you disappointingly.
“What?” you ask him.
His disappointing look transforms into something more, and then he’s grinning, stepping closer to where you are. “I’m proud of you.”
You snort. “Thanks.”
“Are they going to lay off your back now?”
You grin. “Wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t wake me up to my senses though.”
“I’m just great, aren’t I?”
“Remind me not to say something that will make your head bigger, okay?” You tease.
The way you’re laughing is carefree, and relaxed, and so young again, that he believes it really went well this time. He wants to do more than to congratulate you—wants to do more than hugging you tightly and spinning you around dramatically like in the movies. But for now, he has to settle in keeping his wild emotions in, instead making his love to you apparent by the way he’s staring at you and smiling.
From the way you stare and smile back, it looks like you got his message.
“Care to accompany me to the stables now? I want to go ride by the field,” you say with a rather suggestive look that has him snorting, turning around from him again to start walking.
“Already beside you, Your Majesty.”
You look sideways to indeed see Taehyung already there, smiling at you brightly, practically beaming, and you can’t help but think that as long as you had him by your side, you were really always going to be fine.
ending note. AHHHHH okay,,, this fic seriously made me hate english now and just literally squeezed my brains out sjdskdjks on the other note though, i do hope you like it because even though this was such a pain to write, i fell in love more with taehyung in this one to and just wished i could get someone as supportive as him later in my life hehehe. also,,, this was supposed to be pwp yall, but in the middle of writing it, i kinda wanted to make it seem like a queen doesn’t need a king to rule a kingdom you know ??? thus, this was produced instead hehe.
feedback is always always so appreciated !! thank you so much for reading ♡
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peter's guide to becoming a priority (ft. a rock)
It’s not that Stiles hasn’t noticed. He has. It’s just in the grand scheme of things Stiles can’t be bothered. He has two—maybe three—fucks to give about life and he’s not wasting one on Peter Hale running his hands over everything in Stiles’ apartment.
Stiles is aware, thank you very much, that Peter is scent-marking precisely at the time Stiles is busiest. Peter knows Stiles, knows his lack of fucks, knows he’ll get away with being a little possessive shit.
Peter’s slowly moving up on Stiles’ list of things to deal with. It hasn’t evolved into a Priority but it is a problem, not a capitalized one.
Stiles’ most recent ex texts him for a booty call. Stiles screenshots and sends it to the wives group chat. Allison calls him immediately.
“Knife or gun?”
“As a present for me? I’d rather have a gift card for Cheesecake Factory.”
“Obviously. I already got you that. For once I’m not the one putting a warning label on the wrapping paper.”
“But someone else is? Wait, don’t tell me, no birthday spoilers this year!”
Allison makes that little huffy sound she totally picked up from Lydia. “You’re not upset about the text?”
“What? Fuck no, it was funny and...” Stiles trails off, his thoughts screeching to a stop and going full speed in a different direction.
The edge returns in Allison’s voice. “Knife or gun?”
“Not yet,” Stiles says slowly. “But wolfsbane bullets.”
“Your ex isn’t a werewolf.”
“Care to elaborate?”
Allison huffs Lydia-style and hangs up. Stiles scrolls through his contacts, hovering over Pettigrew. His lips twitch up despite the situation. Stiles will always laugh over how that contact name genuinely annoys the shit out of Peter.
Stiles’ finger hovers for a moment, tempted to call Peter.
Allison thought Stiles needed a rant or cry over his ex. Stiles didn’t because he’s just tipped over to the point where he doesn’t care anymore and has moved on.
What a convenient time for Peter to start staking claim to Stiles’ home.
Stiles bumps this up to a Problem. Still, it’s not worth his energy to confront Peter’s weird seduction. Plus, he has Ally to deal with it if he wants.
Stiles gets up in the middle of the night to pee and it hits him—birthday.
His birthday is the only time of year Stiles accepts Peter giving him an extravagant gift with no protesting.
So, Stiles is busy, over his ex, and his birthday is coming up?
Ugh. Okay, it’s a priority. But only a small one.
Stiles aggressively jabs Peter’s chest. With practiced ease, Peter wraps his hand loosely around Stiles’ wrist to drain the minor pain of what basically feels like slamming his finger into a brick wall.
“No,” Stiles repeats. “You only refer your clients to me when it’s a shitty case, because then I whine at you and you make it up to me by cooking all my meals until I’ve closed the case.”
“Of course,” Peter says. This is an unspoken ritual they’ve had since Stiles started up his detective-slash-hitman supernatural business.
Peter does lawyer work for supernatural cases that spark vicious glee in his eyes. Currently, his blue eyes are less vindictive and more smug.
Too bad for him and his stupid smug eyes because Stiles isn’t falling for this! Peter happens to have shitty clients right as Stiles’ workload is dying down? Stiles sees right through his strategic moves and is cutting off any further advances.
“Nope,” Stiles says, plastering on a cheery smile.
“Very well. Tell me if you change your mind.”
Stiles never changes his mind. Not on his own. Peter has to work to make Stiles change his mind and vice versa. It’s one of their things, their games, to see who breaks first. Stiles was ready to break Peter but he’s...forfeiting? He even said if, not when.
A smug smile joins the smug eyes at Stiles’ gaping.
The barista calls Stiles’ name, reminding him that they’re at their favorite cafe that’s sadly non-supernatural. No petty zapping magic allowed. Stiles moves to pick up his drink and finds himself tugged back in place.
Stiles hadn’t torn his wrist out of Peter’s gentle hold after the quick pain-drain.
Peter lets go and nudges Stiles toward the counter before he can fully absorb Peter’s characteristic but unwarranted smugness.
Stiles changes Peter’s contact name for the first time since he decided Peter was more than a string of numbers. That was six years ago, four years after he swiped Peter’s phone number from Derek.
Ten years. Ten years! He’s had Peter’s number for ten years and not once—not once!—in all of Peter’s astounding amounts of fuckery has Stiles ever programmed him as a Priority.
And ten years ago Peter had fucking raised himself from the dead! And did so via traumatizing Lydia! In all of that, Stiles never considered him high enough on his list to be a priority!
Times. Have. Changed.
For the third night in a row, Stiles has dreamed of Peter’s special stir fry. All week he’s felt odd. He’s texting Peter the usual amount, he saw him for their weekly coffee, so why does he miss him?
Suspicious, Stiles checked his work calendar for the past year. And then the year before that. He went all the way back to the first case Peter handed him. Over six years, Peter has been slowly handing over more cases. The last two years have been a steady clockwork of every five weeks.
Peter’s fucking trained Stiles to subconsciously expect a week of Peter hanging around all day and feeding him. It’s so ingrained in his mind that he’s dreaming about it! What the fuck!
The worst part? Stiles never would have caught on if he hadn’t turned down the shitty case at the coffee shop. Smuggy smug bastard with reverse psychology, making Stiles think he won.
Tell me if you change your mind.
The complexity of this long game manipulation is stupidly hot. Like. Really, really hot. Extremely. Fuck.
Stiles puts siren emojis on both sides of Priority.
I recall a drunk promise of ‘no snooping’ this year
See, to Pettigrew, Stiles would've shot out a series of rapid texts demanding to know what’s up. With 🚨Priority🚨, he remembers to hesitate. He settles for simple.
Your dear jock wife has reserved a table at the one (1) upscale restaurant you like
On an unrelated note, the downtown movie theater is re-releasing Venom at the same time as the reservations
Again, with a Priority status, Stiles is keenly aware that Peter knowing him so well is not something to celebrate right now. He switches into the wives chat.
To 🙌 Lydia’s Jock Wives 💪:
FUCK RESTRONT RES
AT THEATER W WEIRD BATHROOM
From Queen Apeshit 🏹:
this stinks of peter
gdammit he HELPED me get those reservations!! wtf
To 🙌 Lydia’s Jock Wives 💪:
monsterfucker movie!!!!! PLEASE
From Queen Apeshit 🏹:
lyds says text ur werewolf that he has to make dinner for being a bitch
Stiles spins in his desk chair, grinning. Hell yes, an excuse for Peter to cook.
From King of Math Gays💋:
Nvm I’m texting him so he’ll bring dessert
Also, stop changing the group name FFS
Just because you played lax does NOT make you a jock Stiles!!
King of Math Gays💋 named the conversation “Lydia’s Monsterfucker Wives”
To Lydia’s Monsterfucker Wives:
u say that as if ur not a monsterfucker
From King of Math Gays💋:
From Queen Apeshit 🏹:
rip jock stiles
From King of Math Gays💋:
There was never a jock Stiles to kill. No rip
Stiles sends 🥺🥺🥺 and returns to his text chain with Peter.
no more spoilers
Yes, Lydia texted me
I’m assuming you’ll want to hang out with your wives beforehand?
Stiles pauses. When had Ally and Lyds absorbed Peter into their group? Sure, they didn’t have a chat with the four of them, but he’s part of the planning committee and Lydia texts him. Stiles is stupidly fond of Peter casually referring to them as his wives. Past partners always found that weird.
Stiles should leave it at that. Simple. Concise. No quadruple texts in a row. He stares at the sirens and capital P.
Fuck it, they should get brunch. No, don’t fuck it! Well. Half-fuck it?
coffee fri morn? then meet at movie
Sounds perfect, sweetheart
Text me when you wake up and I’ll meet you there
Peter has Stiles’ drink waiting for him outside the shop, somehow having convinced the barista to pour an obscene amount of whipped cream on it. There’s too much for there to be a lid so Stiles busies himself slurping it down. Peter takes the distraction to pin a giant BIRTHDAY BOY! button on Stiles’ flannel.
Stiles adores it. He keeps touching it the entire time he hangs out with Lydia and Allison, only noticing the habit because Lydia swats his hand away.
Watching Venom in theaters again is amazing. Stiles sits between Lydia and Allison with Peter on Lydia’s other side. The two of them roll their eyes at Stiles and Allison’s geeking out over the romcom. Half-way through, Stiles finishes his popcorn and Lydia elbows him to show Peter handing over Red Vines.
Stiles nearly cries over dinner back at his place, finally getting the Peter cooking he deserves. He’s pretty sure he’s bursting with happy chemosignals because Peter looks far too satisfied. They all drink wine and chill in Stiles’ living space, talking and laughing and half-heartedly playing a game of Go Fish.
Allison gives him his gift card, no weapons this year other than a hand-made coupon for One Free No Qs Asked Murder. Lydia has the warning label present, a carefully wrapped vial of a very rare and very illegal potion. She also makes a coupon to match Allison’s with One Free Secret Keeper (Including From Ally) Of The Murder.
Stiles cries and almost breaks the vial. They give him hugs and kisses and retire to his guest bedroom.
Peter stays up to continue their familiar and well-loved argument over Bigfoot. Stiles pulls up a video he’s been saving for months of Bigfoot Spotted footage. He pretends not to notice the tiny glitch at the end that proves it’s faked, holding back his laughter as Peter replays the video again and again, increasingly distressed, to point it out to Stiles.
Lydia yells at them to shut up.
“That’s my cue to leave,” Peter says.
Stiles bites his lip, tempted to tell Peter to stay. They’ve slept in the same bed before, including in sexually charged periods when Stiles was single, but the invitation feels different now. Peter’s a Priority. This isn’t flirting. This is serious, strategic.
“You didn’t give me my present,” Stiles says.
“So greedy,” Peter tsks. “I bought your drink, your button, Red Vines, made you dinner and dessert, indulged you in your infuriating Bigfoot theories—”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s your day to spoil me, whatever. None of that was your big gift.”
Peter hums a non-response, standing up. He shrugs on his peacoat, the dark blue one that makes Stiles want to cuddle up in front of a fire and hold hands and do soft domestic shit. Offering his hand out, Peter says, “You’re very confident about a fancy present, sweetheart.”
Stiles accepts the help. Peter holds his hand for a prolonged moment before pulling Stiles up to stand a few inches apart. Stiles should put a stop to this. Instead, he admits, “I changed your contact name.”
“Really?” Peter’s flirty smile morphs into delight, borderline giddy.
Stiles steps back, grateful to create space between them, and finds his phone under a couch pillow. Unlocking it, he opens up their recent texts and hands his phone over.
Peter doesn’t laugh or smirk.
He stares down at Stiles’ phone until the screen goes dark, his expression soft in the way Stiles imagines his must be when he looks at Peter wearing that peacoat. Peter places the phone on the coffee table and rummages through his pocket, pulling out a tiny little box with a red bow.
The past three weeks of building tension over what grand gift is coming and it fits in the palm of Stiles’ hand? Peter gives Stiles things like a laptop or a suitcase for a trip to Europe. One year he bought a king-sized mattress and bed frame.
What the hell fits in a little box? A diamond?
“You have to pull the bow off to open it,” Peter murmurs after Stiles inspects it for a long minute.
Stiles huffs Lydia-style and rolls his eyes. He delicately undoes the bow, tucking the ribbon into his flannel pocket, the one still boasting the birthday button. He opens the box, revealing—
“Happy birthday, Stiles,” Peter says, stepping forward to kiss Stiles’ cheek, boldly close to the corner of Stiles’ mouth. “Tell me if you changed your mind.”
It’s been a week since The Rock. Stiles has done everything to check it for magical properties. It’s nothing more than an ordinary triangular-shaped grey-black rock.
He’s seen Peter a few times since The Rock and Peter’s acting no different, hasn’t had any sike! here’s your real gift moment. Stiles refuses to ask.
“What the fuck is this?” Stiles begs.
Lydia drinks her tea. She lost all sympathy once he refused to let her touch his rock. “You have no rock inside joke?”
Lydia raises her eyebrows. “Anniversary?”
“I checked. It’s eleven years since we met him in his alpha rampage, which is steel. If he’s counting by when we became friends-ish six years ago that’s candy or iron. Any other anniversary symbols don’t mention rocks.”
“Wow. I expected you’d look into that but I hoped you weren’t this desperate.”
Stiles shrugs. He rubs his thumb over the rock’s dulled corner. “It’s probably something obscure.”
“He could be saying he’s rock hard for you.”
Stiles plops down next to Lydia, knocking shoulders with her. “Hilarious. Are you possessed by me from high school?”
“Your jokes are still that bad. High school you wouldn’t have thought it was a joke, though. Peter was disturbingly focused on you after his,” Lydia wrinkles her nose, “resurrection.”
Stiles tosses his rock back and forth in his hands. He shifts from that traumatic subject by asking, “Remember when you created a mountain ash pepper spray and threatened him with it?”
“Shame I never got a chance. It’s unfortunate that I like him too much now to use it.” Lydia sets her tea down, twisting to face Stiles with a growing smile, successfully distracted. She teases, “Remember when you threw that huge tantrum after you started working on your Spark?”
“He stalked me into the preserve when I was trying to practice,” Stiles defends, cheeks coloring. News of his “tantrum” spread quickly through the supernaturals in Beacon Hills. “Like yeah, he was super hot and I had a lot of fantastic dreams thanks to his looks but I was seventeen, dude. He’s like a rest-of-your-life deal. I wasn’t missing out on college years of experimenting.”
“Wait. Seventeen,” Lydia says. “Twenty-seven.”
“Tenth anniversary is tin or aluminum.”
Lydia smacks Stiles’ chest. “No, you idiot. What was that stupid phrase you used to say? You thought it was really clever but it was just morbid.”
“Everything I say is clever,” Stiles reflexively says. Then he thinks. “Oh, yeah—‘that will happen when I live another decade’. Because I literally could make pigs fly and probably freeze hell over so I needed something new. Shit, that was funny! I totally thought we’d die before we graduated.”
“Oh my god, stop laughing,” Lydia smacks Stiles, “I’m cracking your fucking case. All the werewolves heard you yelling across town and you blew up part of the forest. Isn’t that when you came up with the phrase?”
“Maybe? I was more focused on controlling my magic from exploding to pay attention to what I said.” Wait, blowing up the forest... “I think I threw a rock at him.” Stiles bolts off the couch. “Like, my magic went crazy but I was so petty that I picked up a rock and threw it at him!”
Stiles closes his eyes, forming a tight fist around his rock. He mimes throwing it, trying to pull up the angst of being a teenager always on the brink of death and the hurt rage that Peter’s interest in him was all about his growing power.
Peter had watched Stiles’ fit with amusement, spurring on Stiles’ anger. The rock had missed him by a wide margin, disappearing into a crater Stiles accidentally created.
I’d never be with you, not even if I live another decade!
Stiles’ eyes fly open.
“I texted Ally,” Lydia says. “She says you have her blessing and wolfsbane bullets, whichever you need. I never thought I’d say this but if pigs can fly and we haven’t died, well.” Lydia huffs. “I support you in...this.”
Stiles flaps his arm at her, knowing she understands the enormous love and gratitude it conveys. His heart pounds too hard to speak. He needs to find Peter.
Tell me if you changed your mind.
Peter’s front door is open, having probably heard Stiles’ heartbeat getting closer from miles away, not needing to wait for Stiles’ scent to reach him. Stiles grumbles, stomping his way inside. He’d wanted to bang on the door.
“In the kitchen, sweetheart,” Peter calls. “Have a good day at work, honey?”
Stiles does a poor attempt at growling at the teasing. He shuts the door and stomps into Peter’s spacious kitchen. Peter sports that amused expression, though fonder and less condescending than it had been that day in the preserve. He’s wearing an apron and there’s a streak of chocolate on his cheek. It’s distracting and extra unfair because he’s shaved his stubble into that hint of what Stiles lovingly named hot villain goatee.
“You sound like you’re having a heart attack.” Peter frowns, stepping away from his mixing bowl. His eyes flicker to the rock Stiles clutches. Tensing minutely, he asks, “Here to throw it at me again?”
“You deserved it.”
Peter tilts his head. “Yes, I did.” He takes a step forward. “A lot can change in ten years.”
“Is this the same rock?” At Peter’s nod, Stiles takes a tiny step into the kitchen. “That’s really sappy.”
Stiles shook off Peter’s advances when they reconnected six years ago, having moved to the same city. They’ve danced around each other but Stiles never crossed that line to meet Peter, never feeling one-hundred percent confident. Peter’s had Stiles’ heart for a while now, he always will, but is Stiles finally ready to hand over his forever, to give every bit of himself along with his heart? Is this what he wants?
Stiles stalls, saying, “Like, you’re embarrassingly romantic.”
“And bold,” Peter says.
Righteous anger sparks and Stiles finds solid ground, his shaky voice disappearing. He marches forward the several steps between them and jabs Peter in the chest. “That was stupidly bold of you to think we’d end up together! Cocky and arrogant and presumptuous and—”
“Hopeful,” Peter cuts him off, lightly squeezing Stiles’ wrist from the pain-draining hold that Stiles never tore away from.
Stiles stutters. His heart, too, if Peter’s eyes lowering to Stiles’ chest means something. Electric blue flickers around the ring of his irises when he meets Stiles’ gaze again.
“What if I say not for another decade?”
Easily, without missing a beat, Peter answers, “I’ll make sure we’re both alive for ten more years and ask again.”
Stiles takes a deep breath. He only has one thing left to say. “There’s a spider on your counter.”
Peter twists to look. Stiles has a split second before Peter realizes the spider was a lie. He uses his magic to toss the rock safely on top of the fridge and fumbles into Peter’s space. He grabs Peter’s shoulders to steady himself and licks the streak of chocolate off his cheek.
Peter’s body goes rigid. Stiles leans back, not releasing his hold, to see the slip of fang he knows is there. Peter’s breathing is carefully controlled, nothing like the quick movement of Stiles’ rising and falling chest.
“This is a yes, you know,” Stiles says. “I’ve changed my mind. Feel free to touch me as inappropriately as you have with my apart—”
Peter kisses Stiles. Their teeth clack together from Stiles being mid-sentence. It stays messy as they stumble backward and to the side, Peter intent on pressing Stiles into the counter, no chance of escape.
It is not smooth or sexy or anything close to a good kiss.
Stiles loves it. If their first kiss is going to be this desperate mess then Stiles deserves to clumsily get on the counter. Peter’s on his wavelength, helping him up, smiling against Stiles’ lips.
Wrapping his legs around Peter’s waist, Stiles cups Peter’s cheek and they finally find a matching rhythm. Like everything about them, the kiss goes from negative numbers to one hundred, no in-between, and Stiles’ brain blue-screens at the best kiss of his life.
Peter’s hands have miraculously found their away under all Stiles’ layers, warm and heavy on his bare stomach, and he’s sucking on Stiles’ tongue when the kitchen lights explode. Peter pinches his side, not breaking the kiss, and something in the living room shatters.
Peter sighs heavily against Stiles’ mouth.
“Don’t even front,” Stiles pulls back, “you’re totally smug that you made me lose control like that.”
Peter nips Stiles’ lower lip. “Of course,” he agrees, practically preening. He adds, “I’d prefer we continue this at your place.”
“You asshole, I have things I don’t want to break, too!”
“Date first.” Stiles kisses Peter’s forehead, his cheeks, his chin. “I’m not that easy.”
Peter laughs a soft wonderful breathy sound. “Sweetheart, you’re anything but easy.”
Running his hands through Peter’s hair, eyes locked on the rock above the fridge, Stiles quietly asks, “Worth it?”
Peter extracts his hands from under Stiles’ shirt. He takes hold of Stiles’ right arm, the one he always uses for jabbing Peter, and lowers it. He presses his lips to Stiles’ inner wrist. “There’s no one else I would’ve waited for.”
Stiles shivers at the scrape of fangs. “You’re worth my forever, too.”
Peter’s other hand grips the counter hard enough that it cracks.
From Dwayne Johnson💘:
Please tell me I’m not Pettigrew again
To Dwayne Johnson💘:
no u r not my sweet non-priority ❤️❤️😈
i have a v v v important q i forgot to ask
From Dwayne Johnson💘:
I’m sighing. What?
To Dwayne Johnson💘:
Have any shitty clients?
Edit: short epilogue
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