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dollcher · 7 hours ago

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夏油傑　✿　COMING OF SPRING

── ( ၴႅၴ samurai!geto suguru x princess!reader

you, the princess of japan, and one of the samurai of the palace, geto suguru, have developed a relationship with one another. while you try to keep it a secret, you cannot no longer contain the love you hold for one another.

❛ contents ❜ . . afab!reader, romantic and soft content, 'forbidden love' but the ones close to them support it <3, reader is the daughter of the shogun tokugawa, reader is a little insecure about herself, geto calls reader 'princess' due to her status, geto is very soft and sweet to reader, toji is a little bit of a menace (just a teensy bit), reader's sister is so nice to reader

notes ♥︎ this is the first ever long-ish fic i have ever written so hope you enjoy it, angels! this is set in the edo period of japan and i really tried to make it as historically accurate as possible but apologies if anything isn't correct. you do not need to have any historical knowledge about this though! i loved writing soft and gentle geto <3

You were perched underneath the newly blossomed sakura tree, scribbling down lines for a poem that encompassed the feelings you felt for spring. It was your favourite of the four seasons, loving the fresh and ambrosial bouquet that wafted through the air along with the assortments of foods associated with it.

As you wrote about your love for the cherry blossoms and flora, as if on cue, one flitted down onto the page of your notebook, its pretty pink eliciting a delighted feeling inside you. And just as you picked up the petal, a large shadow loomed over you, followed by a small cough. You recognised who it was immediately.

A man donning the Palace's kamishimo stood above you, his dark luscious hair cascading past his shoulders and shaping his handsome face. His lips were curled into a gentle smile, eyes mellowed as he gazed down at you. "May I join you, Princess?," he asked, voice low and calm.

You nodded, lowering your brush and knees whilst he stooped down to sit criss-crossed in front of you. His back was erect, chest inflated and arms rested neatly atop his knees. He had an air of grandeur and dignity about him, one that was unyielding and could rattle the feeble-minded just from his presence alone.

His veneer was not a curious feat – Geto Suguru was one of the most dignified and honourable samurai that resided on the palace grounds. He was recognised even by your father, the Shogun of the Tokugawa shogunate, and that was something of note due to your father's otherwise intimidating demeanour. With Geto though, he was rather amicable, sometimes a breath of a laugh slipping past him.

"Are you working on another one of your poems, Princess?," he inquired, eyeing the way your fingers twirled so delicately along your brush.

"Yes," you said, a blush tinting your cheeks. While you were regarded as an astute woman by not only those of the Palace but civilians alike, you doubted your own intelligence, always assuming you weren't comparable to others around you.

Geto sported a gracious smile, tilting his head slightly while his dun, violet eyes scanned your face. "When will you let me read one of your fine poems? I have heard from your father that it is some of the most beautiful writings he has ever read, Princess."

"That is rather high praise from my Father," you muttered, closing your notebook and setting it down on the grass. "Yet I feel it might just be biased flattery, as I am his daughter after all."

The samurai huffed in umbrage, his soft expression now suddenly turning steely. His gaze was intense, piercing through yours with a flicker of pique before he responded, "Do not speak so lowly of yourself, Princess. You are an incredibly intelligent and wise woman. That is a fact well-known by us all."

"Your praise is sweet," you quipped, yet there was a sarcastic undertone laced in your words. "And how many times have I told you to call me by my name? Is it so difficult to do so?"

A light pink hue now dusted his cheeks, the stern look softening into something coy, a look you knew he only reserved for you. He simply sighed but shot you a dove-like smile which you returned adoringly.

"Only once you do so, Princess."

You and Geto had developed a rather intimate relationship with one another, spending nearly every spare second of your days together. Whether that was engaging in amiable chatter underneath the now blossomed sakura tree or ambling across the Hirakawa bridge, the both of you had grown fond of each other – even moments of silence were perfect to you.

While you had tried to keep the relationship hush-hush, meeting at times that people were not around and where you were unlikely to be found, it had still not gone unnoticed by a few people – among them your older sister, Kamehime.

You were sipping on a hot cup of green tea whilst your sister was practicing her calligraphy, an art she was incredibly skilled at. She was mindlessly humming to herself a song you recognised was from her favourite kabuki plays. It was a pleasant, rosy melody, filling you with a serene feeling that always managed to ease your nerves. The tea helped too.

The humming had ceased as she set her brush down and peered at you who was admiring the clear, blue sky, a glint of a newfound warmth in your eyes. It was true that you were a genteel and loving woman to everyone around you and you always held a semblance of kindness that was evident even in your pupils. But this was something different.

Something nigh to... yearning.

"Is your mind occupied with thoughts of that samurai?," Kamehime mused, an impish grin drawing on her face.

Your face instantly flushed, the hold you had on your cup tightening. You cleared your throat and straightened your back, trying your best to compose your dwindling demeanour over the mere mention of the man of your desire.

"What ever do you mean?," you questioned, putting down your cup.

The way your eyes darted across the room and the way the blush had now creeped to your ears and down to your neck told her though you knew exactly what she meant.

She hummed in feign curiosity. "Oh, it is just I have noticed you spending an awful amount of time with him at the gardens. Geto is his name, if I remember correctly, yes?"

You nodded, plodding closer to your sister. You wanted to inquire further, to know what she thought of him and if she had heard any sort of whispers of what he thought of you. But before you did you bit your tongue, worried that Kamehime would disapprove of your affection for him.

"Mhm, that is his name," you said.

"Do you... like him?," she asked plainly, setting aside her tools and paper to scoot closer to you, a playful smile on her face.

"What?!," you shouted, nearly knocking down your cup of tea from the way you jolted up to your feet. "Kamehime, what are you saying? I do not understand."

Her smile grew wider, her suspicions becoming true. She shrugged as she stood up to face you. "Do not play dumb with me."

"I am not!"

"Hm, is that so?"

Your face was crimson, heart thumping wildly against your chest. Despite the cool breeze that blew in through the window, your body was hot, burning from bashfulness. No matter how much you would try to divert the conversation, you knew she would not let the matter go and she knew you better than anyone that she would catch on to any lie you came up with. So, with a sigh, you caved and told her the truth.

Her reaction was not what you had expected. She had taken your hands in hers and was jumping up and down in glee. She was giggling and squealing like a little girl, her grin reaching up to her eyes.

"Oh my! This is so great! The first man you have ever had interest in and my, is he a divine one!"

Even though this was not what you were anticipating, you were elated. For her to be in such high spirits for you made you beam and now you both were prancing across the room like baby deers.

Soon your excitement waned, the two of you huffing softly from your somewhat silly burst but that did not matter. You felt content that your sister did not mock you for the feelings you harboured, even if it were for one of the palace guards.

She looped her arms in yours and dragged you out the room towards the palace gardens. "Tell me all about him and you. Do not leave out a single detail!"

Geto was sat atop his futon, completing his daily stretching routine for the day. As he leaned forward to reach his fingers to his toes, nearly touching his head to his knees, a loud thud sounded beside him.

"Oi Geto," a gruff voice said. "I want to ask ya somethin'."

He unfurled himself from his position to face the burly man that was seated next to him. The man was his senior Toji Fushiguro, one of the most distinguished samurais of the palace, and while he was known for his superhuman physicality, camaraderie was not his strong suit. Most of the new recruits had cowered before him but Geto had not done so, treating him just like his other comrades. Toji had admired that and had unwittingly befriended him, to no regard for Geto's disposition.

"What is it?"

"What is goin' on between ya and the Princess?"

Geto froze, eyes widening. He stared with a blank expression on his face, blinking slowly. His lips parted, wanting to say something to his senior, but nothing came out. He was not sure how to answer him – would it be best to deceive, be honest, or feign ignorance?

Toji raised a puzzled brow, his glare boring into Geto. He had tilted his head back, eyes narrowed and arms crossed as he waited for a response. "Well? Ya not goin' to answer me?"

"What does it matter to you?," Geto said, tone cautious, testing the waters.

Toji's lips curved into a small smirk, some of his suspicions confirmed upon the reception. But the ever smug arse thought it would be fun to toy with him a bit. "Is it somethin' I need to be concerned about?"

"No, it is not so shall we drop it?," Geto said curtly whilst he tied the back of his hair into his infamous bun.

"If that's the truth, so be it," Toji sighed, waving his hand in the air. "Then I suppose ya wouldn't care if I spoke to her."

Geto's eyes flickered, piercing with pure discontent as he pried Toji about what his intentions were with you.

"Hah, don' remember saying which of the princesses I was talkin' about."

Geto wanted to bury himself beneath his futon and let the ground swallow him whole to allay the embarrassment bubbling inside him. He could not believe Toji had pulled such a stupid trick on him – and it pissed him that he had fallen for it.

"Are ya really interested in her?," Toji asked sincerely, his smirk dropping, leaning in towards Geto.

"If I said I was?," Geto murmured, his voice soft and guarded, void of the certainty it usually held. He was twiddling with his fingers nervously, his gaze lowered down to the ground.

"I don' necessarily disapprove," Toji huffed as he got back up on his feet, Geto following suit. "Yer a swell fellow. I don' suspect yer goin' after her with any ulterior motives in mind."

Toji's hand clapped his back with two harsh blows, jerking Geto forward and causing him to nearly stumble. And he knew that that wasn't even a sliver of his true strength. The brawny man let out a gruff laugh, wrapping his arm over the younger's shoulders. The scar on his lip had raised into a smirk once more, adding on to what he said earlier, "I don' fault ya for fallin' for her. She's a beauty. And yer quite chummy with her father already so if ya did ask for her hand in marriage, there is a chance the old man may just approve."

Geto's cheeks flushed from what had just been said. He had dreamt of it every night since your relationship had turned intimate. It had happened so artlessly like how the petals would turn pink to signal the start of spring – the season of your meeting.

Geto had first spoken to you when he had accidentally found himself at the back of the palace gardens. He was still a newcomer at the time so he had not yet grown familiar with the lay of the land, so to speak. The rustling of his footsteps had startled you and caused you to yelp, bringing your head up from the book you were buried in a second ago.

As is the custom, he bowed his head down and profusely apologised for his actions. Just as he turned on his feet to leave, you had said to him, "You may stay."

Your sweet voice struck a chord within him, strumming so prettily against his heartstrings. It was music to his ears, like the trills of a koto – so silvery and dulcet. He had only ever heard it in the background of flitting chatter, never truly clear but his ears would perk up whenever he would catch it, even if it were for just a second.

"Are you sure, Princess?," he asked, holding onto his katana. "I would not wish to intrude on your personal time."

"No please," you mused, flipping on to the next page of your book. "I would not mind a bit of company. This chapter has me in ruins, my heart shattered."

Geto let out a soft snicker, approaching you slowly though still maintaining a respectful distance between you two. "What is that has you disheartened, Princess?," he inquired.

And that simple question had spiralled into hours of conversation – talking about the book you had just indulged in; sharing each other's interests and disinterests; basking in the beauty of nature. Your time together had, unfortunately, come to an end when you had been called for dinner.

You rose to your feet, Geto doing the same, the distance still at a respectable one. He bowed down to bid you a goodbye, a part of him crestfallen that he wouldn't get to speak with you again yet another another part of him that was content with the time he spent with you, no matter how short.

Before you left the gardens, you turned your head around, donning that warm smile of yours he had already come to adore.

"I will be here tomorrow too, if you wish to meet again."

He had met you there everyday since then.

And the distance he had initially kept you at grew closer each time he met with you. Till he was just a mere few centimetres away from feeling your touch.

With the approval of your father, you were able to stroll through the streets of Edo, to be able to admire the cherry blossoms in full bloom. As per the request of your father, he had a samurai assigned to you and as always, it was none other than Geto. Whether by chance or by deliberate choice, you were pleased.

He was carrying a basket that contained a picnic mat along with some of your favourite treats – dango, strawberry mochis, and salmon onigiri. He had set down the mat on the grass, laying out the food for you to indulge in. You sat down, posture poised and the sun showering you with its golden rays, brightening your pretty features and the soft pink kimono you were wearing, resembling the colours of the cherry blossoms.

You were about to dive into the food splayed in front of you but looked up to see Geto standing beside you, his hand on the top of his katana. "What are you doing, Geto? Sit with me!," you chimed.

His eyes peered down at you, looking at you with both hesitancy and longing. While every fibre in his being wanted to sit beside you, he had to politely decline your offer, worried about the assumptions that onlookers would have if they saw the both of you in such a situation.

"Oh please," you tsked. "We are in a pretty secluded area. I doubt anybody would come by."

With a bit of deliberation, he crouched down but he sat just outside the mat, maintaining a good few inches of space between you. You sighed but gave him a soft smile, knowing he was simply acting in a manner that would not scandalise you or your dignity.

You slid a stick of dango to him, offering it to him to eat. He shook his head, declining another of your offers, simply stating he was just not hungry. Yet his own body had betrayed him when a low rumble came from his stomach. His cheeks turned a bright red and you giggled at him. "Just eat, silly," you said, dangling the dango in front of him.

He smiled, slightly abashed, as he took the sweet from your hand and took a bite out of it. His face lit up, chewing cutely on the sakura flavoured piece. He stuffed the other two pieces into his mouth, his cheeks puffed up as he hummed in delight.

This cute side to him had your heart fluttering and you wanted nothing more than to reach out to him and cup his face in your hands. But you had to restrain yourself so as to not cause any discomfort to him. "You really enjoy sweets I see," you said, taking a nibble out of dango in your hand.

"Oh yes I do," he admitted. "If I could, I would eat them all the time."

"Maybe I will treat you to some of my beloved mochi," you said, grinning at him.

"I would be honoured."

You held out the dango stick in your hand to Geto. "Would you like to finish this? The sweetness is making me nauseous," you said, scrunching your nose in distaste.

He nodded, reaching his hand out to grab it but as he did, you pulled back slightly. Your eyes skimmed over his face and he was looking at you confused. You put the stick near his face and whispered, "Take a bite."

His body tensed up, understanding the intent behind your action. Though so innocent in nature, it felt near indecent, given that you had not yet touched one another, even fleetingly. To be in such proximity to your touch, to have his mouth so near your hand, his body bloomed with amour.

Geto slowly moved closer, eyes never leaving yours as his lips latched onto the last piece of dango on the stick. He could see the pink that tinted your cheeks and how your eyes flitted from his eyes to his lips repeatedly. The way you looked at him, pupils dilated and filled with the same ardor he harboured for you set his entire body ablaze, thoughts of you in his arms taking over his mind.

He tore off the last bit that was stuck on the end, lips softly grazing the ends of your fingers. He could feel how soft and delicate they were, and he wanted nothing more than to plant countless feathered kisses from the tips of your fingers all the way up your arms to your face until he got to your plush lips. Oh, how much he had daydreamed about the day he could capture his lips with yours.

You lowered your hand and set down the stick, gaze fixed on Geto's, his stare dreamy and tender. He drunk you in – admiring the way the daylight illuminated your features; the rose colour of your lips and cheeks that looked so heavenly; the pink of the kimono that complemented your skin. Everything about you made you look like an angel descended from heaven and he believed for a moment that you truly were. He believed himself so blessed that you would even look his way.

Your faces were inches apart and he feared that you could hear his heart pounding beneath his chest. He could sense that your breathing had quickened a little and as strange as it sounded, he found it endearing.

His breath suddenly caught in his throat when he felt your finger caress the top of his hand. It was so soft. You traced small circles and wore a dear smile on your face. He returned it back, letting out the breath he had not realised he had been holding.

With care, his fingers interlaced with yours and he felt that he would have collapsed right then and there. How fortunate of him to have been sitting down. Your hands were delicate and dainty, a stark contrast to his rough and calloused ones.

"Your touch is so... supple," he murmured before he could stop himself. As soon as he said it, he turned his head away, mentally cursing himself at the dumb choice of words.

"Supple?," you giggled. "Amongst all the compliments I have heard, that has to be the most interesting one."

"Please, Princess," he sighed, using his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Do not tease me."

"But I enjoy it, Geto!," you continued giggling.

He sighed again and said with a loving smile on his face, "Who am I to deny the Princess from what she wants to do?"

Night had fallen, the sky painted a dark hue and the stars hung twinkling brightly. Geto and you had come back to the palace just an hour ago, having lost track of time with how much you were enjoying your time together. Upon your return, you had got a bit of a scolding from your father – the only reason he had not blown up was because you were in safe hands with Geto.

You were in your room, changing into your nightgown to rest up. You folded the kimono you had worn today and placed it back into your wardrobe. You brushed through your hair, entangling any knots and letting it fall to the sides of your face.

Just as you were about to tuck in for the night, a small rap came from your door. You wondered who it could be at this hour. You slid the door open to find one of the maids standing there, the basket you had taken out earlier in her hands.

"Princess, I believe this is yours," she said, handing it off to you.

"Oh thank you," you said, though you were a bit bemused that Geto had thought he needed to give it back to you.

"Goodnight Princess," the maid said, closing the door in front of her as she left. But before it completely shut, you caught her wearing an odd smile – it was as if she knew something you did not.

The basket was in your hands and you had expected it to be empty but it was not.

A note.

You picked it up and grinned when you read what it said.

'Meet me at the Hirakawa Bridge.'

Thankfully, you had not been caught in the act of tiptoeing out your room and scurrying off where he had asked. Everyone else was asleep so there was no chance of being seen. You prayed at least that that would not happen.

As you turned the corner to reach the bridge, you saw the handsome long-haired man standing, awaiting your arrival. Once you stepped foot on the bridge, he turned his head to look at you, greeting you with a kind smile.

"I am sorry to ask you to come out so late, Princess," he said softly, walking towards you.

"No worries, Geto," you responded, your steps becoming hurried. "Is there something you needed to talk about?"

He was now stood in front of you, peering down at you with a sweet look in his eyes. You could feel his breath fanning against your face, stepping closer to you, closing any gap that was between you two.

He brought his hand up to your face, almost touching the hair that had fallen in front of you but stopped. He looked at you, eyes asking you if it was okay. You nodded, tilting your head, granting him permission for him to do what he wanted.

He brushed the stray strand behind your ear and cupped your cheek in his hand after – so loving, so romantic. He brought his face close to yours, lips brushing lightly against yours.

"I just...," Geto began, steadying his shaky breath before he went on. "I could not stop thinking about our time today. It made me overjoyed. And I dreamt of doing more with you. But I would never do so unless–"

You cut him off by grabbing him by his neck and pressing his lips to yours. He let out a gasp, shocked by your actions. But soon, he relaxed into you, bringing his hands to wrap around your waist and he pulled you into his embrace. You let out a sweet hum, your arms draping over his neck, gently tugging the underside of his hair. That drew out a low groan from him, mind turning hazy at what you were doing to him.

You slowly pulled back, his forehead resting against yours. For a few moments, the both of you were quiet, just basking in each other's presence and what had just happened. The two of you then began giggling giddily, completely delirious at finally truly feeling each other for the first time.

Geto was holding you lovingly yet protectively, as if thinking that if he let go you would break apart. He patted your head and planted a gentle peck to your forehead. The gesture made your cheeks tinted with a bright pink, balling his clothes in your hands to keep yourself up from how woozy you were feeling.

A good kind of woozy.

"Just how I had imagined it," he whispered.

"Me too."

"I wish I could stay with you here longer, Princess," he grumbled, annoyance seeping through his words. "But I cannot stay out too long. The other guards will get suspicious of the guardhouse doors being open at this ungodly hour."

Though it wounded you, you did not want to get him into any trouble. So reluctantly, you had to wish him goodnight.

Before you turned around, you hinted at him that you wanted to say something in his ear. Geto was a bit flustered at your request, wondering what it was you wanted to tell him. He bent forward so that his ear was level with your mouth, heart racing with anticipation.

You cupped your hand over his ear and in that saccharine voice of yours, you said to him, "Goodnight, Suguru."

Suguru.

You had called him by his first name. For the first time.

Unable to keep his knees from buckling, his body lightly flopped on top of you. He was letting out soft whimpers, trying his best to contain himself. He felt rather embarrassed that just you calling him by his given name elicited such a lovelorn reaction out of him.

"My god," he murmured. "The things you do to me."

He heard you chuckle, running your hands up and down his arms. "My my, I was not aware of the hold I had on you," you mused playfully.

"Oh but you do," he sung, grazing his fingers softly along your spine, revelling in the feeling of you so close to him. He brought his lips to the shell of your ear and had whispered your name so quietly, that if it were not for the still night you would not have caught it.

You let out a small gasp, burrowing your face in the crook of his neck, a bright pink dusting your cheeks. He could tell you were feeling flustered and his hold on you grew tighter but still tender. He inhaled your scent in, enamoured even by such a simple aspect of you. "I see I have quite a hold on you too," he murmured.

You released yourself from his embrace, yet still close, and you both just stood there, gazing into each other as the moon doused you in its silver light. You both stood enchanted, a pretty cherry blossom petal fluttering to lay between you.

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