Relaxation. (Volkner x Reader)

Though Volkner tries his best not to make a sound as he enters the bedroom, the old door and its rusty hinges creak as he pushes it slowly-- thankfully, it doesn't wake you up.

You're passed out on the bed, your phone facing upwards on your chest as the ending credits of a movie scroll through the screen. A finished cup of ice cream sits on your nightstand, any remnants melting into a lukewarm liquid.

He sighs, knowing that it probably hasn't been a great day for you. You've hardly been in contact with him, he can see a few dried tears glistening on your cheeks, and you almost never finish the ice cream unless it's one of those days.

Even though you always tell him that he works hard and that it's okay when he's late, a nagging feeling tells him that you wish he was around more often.

Sometimes he can't help it, though-- he's a busy gym leader after all-- which is why he decides to make his day off tomorrow extra special for you.

He removes the earphones from your ears and tidies up the nightstand, causing a wistful smile to sweep across your half-sleeping face. Volkner tucks you in with a quick kiss on the lips, quickly setting his phone alarm for two hours earlier.

He's exhausted and falls asleep in seconds, but his mind is racing with his plans for tomorrow, and the delighted look that will be on your face when you see what he has in store for you.



You wake up to empty sheets beside you, but the familiar smell of bacon from below draws your attention away from that issue. The sunlight of late morning seeps through the cracks of the blinds, causing you to squint your eyes as you stumble out of wrinkled bedsheets.

Hanging off the closet door is one of your favourite casual outfits-- black leggings and a cozy sweater in your favourite colour. You swear those were just in the wash, but Volkner must have cleaned them. You put the outfit on, still slightly confused.

Heading downstairs, you are met with the sight of your husband wearing an apron with lightning bolts on it, lifting the lids of three different pots and rummaging through the fridge.

You never see him in casual clothes anymore-- he's wearing a white t-shirt and black sweater with his jeans-- and you love seeing him in jeans.

He takes notice of you,

"Ah, (Y/N)! I was just finishing up. I'm glad to see you're almost ready as well."

Though you're used to his sweeter, less stoic side, it's still always such a pleasant surprise when he shows you the extent of his thoughtfulness.

"W-What's all this, Volkner?"

"I haven't been around as often recently, so I figured a picnic would help us spend some time together."

The table is cluttered with tupperware of different sizes, storing sandwiches, appetizers, snacks, and dessert. Two silver thermoses, which you assume hold coffee by their smell, are already packed into a wicker basket with a plaid cloth hanging out of it.

Your eyes well up as he finishes cutting up the last cubes of cheese, arranging them in a container with crackers and dip.

It's true; you've been having a difficult time at work recently yourself, with failed proposals and research experiments. However, you didn't expect anything of this magnitude, and frankly, you're overwhelmed with gratitude.

"Volkner, I-- I can't thank you enough."

He smiles warmly at you, taking off the apron and closing up the basket.

"It's all my pleasure, (Y/N). You love brunch, don't you?"

You nod as a silly grin breaks out on your face and he ushers you toward the door.

"Then, off we go."



Your first three steps out of the house are met with sunshine; the next three are met with drops of rain.

As you turn around to face Volkner, you see dark clouds approaching from behind the house, bringing with them a torrential downpour.

His face falls as he realizes his special surprise for you has been ruined; his eyebrows furrow in thought.

"(Y/N), I'm sorry. I guess I didn't check the weather or something, because--"

"We don't have to let this go to waste, you know?"

The sky is getting darker, but ideas are forming in your mind,

"How does a candlelit brunch sound to you?"



It isn't every day that you have ice cream for brunch, or get to spend quiet moments listening to the rain against your rooftop between Volkner's soothing voice and your fits of giggles.

The two of you share an intimate meal on the floor of your living room, pillows and blankets strewn across the carpet under the dim lights.

You share tender kisses, quiet whispers, and loving smiles. You fall asleep in a tangled mess despite loud thunder, beginning an afternoon nap.

With a light kiss to your forehead, you realize-- it's days like these that remind you why you love your sweetheart of a husband.