#I am satisfied with how the Knights turned out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

babypinkhearts · 6 months ago

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forgive me, for i am far too weak to control my desires.

pairing: geto suguru + fem!reader

summary: thrones of splendor and magnificence await you. you are not equals, he believes. suguru is but a mere admirer.

warnings: royalty au, prince!suguru, princess!reader, fluff, fluff, fluff, they both have massive crushes on each other, suguru is so very lovely

word count: 2.5k

a/n: my birthday was this past week and writing this seriously felt like a mini present in itself :3 prince suguru supremacy!

a summer night is tainted with some hesitance. slight frustration, too.

morning feels far.

if you could see it — the light, any peek of sun, it’s down an endless corridor. maybe you can imagine it; hope that it comes somewhat quicker.

and yet prevalence is sickly, and you’re subjected to the dark.

gojo satoru’s land is stupidly big. the palace, even worse. you’ve told him more than once; he’d refute and say he could never imagine himself living somewhere ‘suffocating.’ but there’s too much space for a single person, and the enormous balcony connected to his mere bedroom is just the cherry on top. the absence of humbleness is apparent when you’re around him, he loses some sight. you can only slightly rationalize the size because of how often he’d have people over, all poor victims to his constant need for attention. satoru grows bored easily, and if you’d all let him, he’d take everyone’s belongings and move them into his home immediately. company keeps his world moving.

it’s the reasoning for the banquets — all ‘small’ get-togethers he’d frequently host, inviting those of neighboring kingdoms, as the ‘unpretentious and welcoming’ prince of his family. the gojo clan had respectable reputations, and you loved satoru like a brother, but they all seemed somewhat out-of-touch, no matter your own title as a fellow noble.

it’s around midnight, you think.

you can still hear the band playing. the bass of trumpets and soft melody of violins are almost distant, but you feel the tremors below your feet. it’d been a miracle that you’d momentarily escaped the ruckus, as well as fleeting royals’ hands. to turn down an offer to dance, in the vicinity of hundreds of hungry, watchful eyes — a horrid nightmare.

the noise is muffled from upstairs. every conversation, every obnoxiously loud laugh. surely, nothing can be that humorous.

satoru’s balcony has a nice view, especially at night. however, any verbal compliments have always been sealed tightly between your lips whenever you visit. his arrogance grows stronger day by day — you needed to stunt it for as long as possible. he’d become a bit of a liability, you hardly felt bad for sneaking off to his room for some privacy.

there’s a few clicks behind you when you lean just a little more into the railing.

you pray the footsteps are satoru’s, because the need for some sort of herbal tea is the most prevalent thought in your head, and you have no clue where to look for it. you know that the cabinets in the main kitchen run nearly bare if it’s anything but sugary sweets, and there’s some pool of doubt in you that believes satoru probably lacks anything remotely similar that can satisfy you. he doesn’t exactly seem like the tea type.

you’re a little overwhelmed. you craved to enjoy these banquets — you had imagined that after the fifth one, you’d be adjusted — but your attendance has always felt laborious, and the attention you receive has only grown alongside your age. your head hurts from bowing to lords and queens, the occasional knight and prince. formalities are a chore, a simple game to appear the most presentable.

the footsteps behind you halt. you hold yourself steady, and turn to your right slightly.

locks of black greet you in your peripheral vision. the smell of nice cologne follows right after.

“hate it that much?”

mellow and teasing, it’s suguru’s voice that brushes through. like gently plucking at the strings of a harp, quietly catching your attention. you give him a little glance — to make him feel noticed, and maybe to get a subtle and selfish look at his face. he looks comfortable, you think. at least, as comfortable as you could seem in form-fitted clothing. he looks good, more importantly, blending in nicely with the darkness.

an owl’s coo drives the night, melting like stardust and fading into the sky. it allures you, only draws you closer to the new warmth beside you.

“yes. badly.”

you hear his laugh — it’s the type that trickles with remnants of lasting drowsiness, just hinting at the state. every movement you’re able to peek and see from him is all quite slow, and it’s a mini battle to fight a slight upwards quirk in your lips. he’s tired, it’s obvious. maybe a little inebriated too.

you’ve never felt the need to lie to him. suguru is more like a breath of fresh air; someone genuine in a world of acting.

hesitantly, you turn towards him, meeting calming, honeyed eyes. he’s a little intimidating, even with some visible fatigue. suguru’s gaze has always been piercing, and you’re nearly positive that he’s aware. there’s a confident twinge, a sight of his effect being knowingly apparent. it’s a little annoying.

“you don’t happen to hate it too, your highness?”

when you speak, you break eye contact, far too mentally flustered to continue such embarrassing torture, no matter how addictive. you can feel him still watching you (perhaps, with a small, shameless smirk), and he slowly bows his head in a nod.

“yes. badly.”

it’s you who laughs this time.

you liked suguru. you liked him a lot. since the moment you’d been introduced to him, years ago at a winter’s ball (hosted by satoru’s family, of course). he and satoru were joined at the hip, far too inseparable to even consider letting anyone in between. but then came the addition of shoko, the daughter of one of satoru’s knights (who had later turned into his own), and then you, the daughter of his father’s new royal comrade from a neighboring kingdom.

the two of you don’t swim in riches like satoru. kingdoms separated from the gojo clan require more thoughtful spending — it’s uncommon, the priority your families hold for your citizens. you blame that for the reason why suguru is so easy to talk to, so tastefully levelheaded. he sees through unhealthy voraciousness, just like you.

but a kingdom doesn’t develop without some kind of offering. a trade-off, a contribution of sorts.

you’re shaken out of your thoughts, grimness dissipated, when suguru’s head motions to the opening behind the two of you, left bare and unattended.

you’re slightly surprised shoko isn’t guarding the exterior. but, then again, she’s most likely monitoring the banquet.

“i was growing tired of a bland talk i was having.” suguru explains, leaning ahead, similar to you. an arm stretches out across the railing, and he lets out a sigh. “fresh air sounded much better in comparison.”

there’s something in his voice that you can’t exactly pinpoint. not close to a lie, however not entirely truthful. you’re unable to read it on his face. but, in all honesty, it was hard to pay close attention to anything when he was staring so intently. his eyes might burn through.

transparency reads best. and yet suguru chooses to hide the fact that he’d seen you flee from the chaos of the banquet mid-conversation, and followed right after. the desperation for your attention seemed to had overridden his rationality, and possibly costed him a bit of his reputation. (he’s sure the woman he was talking to might have bored him to death, though).

“it’s suffocating in there.” you reply, shaking your head. “i’m not sure why satoru likes hosting these so much.”

a stamped envelope with a pretty wax engraving shows up outside your castle gates every other month. you hear the stallion of a messenger, and know by the purple hues of the letter that it’s an invitation from satoru. you’ve kept every single one, storing them in a carton box below your bed.

the banquets are phenomenal. you’re left speechless every time you walk inside the ballroom, eyes drinking up every detail from hand-painted flowers on the walls to rich crystal chandeliers. the event itself is an unsaid contest to see who could dress the best, who really screams of royalty.

suguru purses his lips, eyes trailing down below where he can see some guests leaving. servants follow suit. they carry items of negligence, holding on to a toddler’s hand as their parents carelessly cackle ahead.

he makes a motion, beckoning you to crouch from any observant eyes. two young royals sneaking off to a bedroom — it’d be the scandal of the century. his parents had warned him of publicity far too often. you follow his instructions without any complaints.

from the slivers in the space, you still have a good view of the front entrance. roses and topiary line the walkway, leading down a distant road.

a familiar figure steps out, hair slightly blending in with the bright lights behind him. he waves to the departing folk, a large grin adorning his face.

“he likes a crowd. the whole family does.”

satoru was made for royalty.

your shoulders slump in fatigued defeat. the dislike for such public conventions plagues your conscience. you’ll always be tied to them, even unwillingly.

suguru looks to you, fondness in his very gaze. he feels your worry; knows of conversations that you don’t. nothing has ever been fair for you, he’s known it since you were children.

thrones of splendor and magnificence await you. you are not equals, he believes. suguru is but a mere admirer.

he sees you know, grown and enchanting. with a dress that looks so indescribably perfect, and face so pleasantly captivating. you could be in a story book. surely, you aren’t real.

and maybe he is far too smitten, eyes always chasing yours whenever you’re in the same room. at every ball he goes to, every social gathering, he searches for your name on the guest list first.

he remembers when satoru introduced you to him. the all-knowing smirk on his face, the slight shove he had given (mischievous, because he could tell how flustered suguru had become). and yet suguru had kissed your hand ever-so-gently — even bowed in respect.

he keeps hope. that your soul of sun orbits around him for eternity, and that you’ll always be within reach.

there’s more foolish thought, though.

his eyes trail to your bare ring finger.

to wed you —

well, that would be an idea of strictly fiction.

“a duke from the fushiguro clan wanted to ask you to dance. i heard him talking to your father about it.”

suguru’s voice cuts through the silence, cursed words disguised as mystic melodies.

you wince.

it’s hidden through the curtain of your hair, and you’re sure he’s oblivious to it. some part of you wishes he had kept that information to himself.

a dance is all it takes. a dance, then a conversation, then an inescapable ring. marriage is for business, not love. nothing more than the chance to unite two lands — greed runs through royal blood. it all seems hereditary.

you rub your arms gently, and shut your eyes.

“did he?”

suguru raises his head, intrigued.

your voice sounds a little exasperated. breathing a large gust of air, almost in… disappointment.

suguru nods in response, swallowing thickly. you’re friends, you’ve spoken about subjects like this for years. suguru remembers your expressions of secret distaste you would flash to him whenever another royal would attempt to make conversation. you were good at faking interest — suguru thinks you’d be wonderful performing in a play. all maturity (forcefully) weighs you down, however. a means to accept adulthood; accepting a loss of those childish glances and joyful memories. you’re still the same, though.

but could it be, that because you’re older, the age close to a bride, that it all feels much different.

suguru feels a little sick, in fact.

he glances to you, watching as your perched head rests on your hand.

“would you have gone?”

a sound of amusement leaves your lips.

he’s a little cruel to ask for a response so conflicting. it’s all melodramatic, insignificant in the grand scheme of the things. but you know your duty. your heart just doesn’t seem to follow through.

your dress suddenly feels more uncomfortable, and you straighten a little.

“would you like my honest answer?”

you’d never find the courage to lie to him, anyway.

suguru smiles, tilting his head with a small chuckle. once more — you’re a lot less proper in private, always have been. where there’s no fear of gossip or judgement, just your authenticity. no expectations to uphold, just beauty in your natural grace. suguru is blessed.

“enlighten me, princess.”

the name, while being the correct title (something you’ve heard daily your entire life), sounds different when suguru says it. it always has. he’s a siren, you fear. those mystical beings you’ve only heard tales of, the kind that keep your sailors at shore. everything sounds better coming from his lips.

guilt tears you in two.

your best interest should be aimed towards your people — more opportunities, for the price of one measly sacrifice. an unhappy marriage, for many more happy lives.

and yet you say, without giving yourself any time to regret it,

“no.”

you look a little paranoid after you speak, as if guards with chains and pitchforks are just outside the door. but that fear feels minimal when suguru is looking at you, proudly.

some confidence overrides thoughts of ridicule. he’s the armor you desperately desire. quietly, you repeat, “no. i would have said no.”

your interests lie somewhere else. not with a duke who sees nothing further than mere appearance and riches.

weight is lifted.

suguru stares. it’s imminent, his voice. threatening an appearance whenever he swallows too quickly, preparing himself for words he feels are a little too heavy on his tongue. you’re not looking at him — he thanks the heavens that you’re turned away.

he’s unaccustomed to nervousness. you are really the only trigger to it.

he doesn’t dare glance in your direction when he finally speaks.

“would you have gone if i had asked?”

it catches you by surprise.

suguru is looking into the starry distance when you turn to him. he’s smiling a little.

he looks a prince. a real, beautiful prince.

you’d danced with suguru before, dozens and hundreds of times when academy lessons would force the eventual omission of two left feet. learning to waltz was one of the most important rules in the book — a presentation of grace, ‘civility.’ but that was before the simple gesture meant more to the public eye. citizens find such a display as an act of courting.

there’s something in suguru’s expression; sheepish, maybe a little troublesome. like he knows your answer, and only waits for you to confirm it.

you enjoy teasing him, though.

“perhaps.”

there’s a twinkle in his eyes. charm in his gaze is apparent.

the band plays lowly — they’re finishing their last few songs. stringed instruments strum their tune, and it’s delicate harmonies for intimate sways. slow dancing.

a beat goes by. it enhances the feeling of slight wind across your face, pushing back your hair, servicing suguru with a clear view of your reddened complexion.

the midnight moon reaches you, it casts an illuminating glow.

you’re very pretty when you’re looking at him so shyly. as if he’d deny you anything.

a smile reaches his features, eyes crinkling in pure delight.

“well, princess,”

and a single hand reaches towards you, open and inviting.

“will you honor me with a dance?”

#geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto suguru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #geto fluff #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen x reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru #jjk angst #jjk geto suguru #jujustu kaisen fluff

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notthecutesttrash · 6 months ago

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Grey (Pt. 3/Final)

Warnings: Reader is painfully nice, angst, ultra fluff

Word count: 8k

PART 1, PART 2

At lunch, you sit in your old spot. Your feet dangling above the ground atop the bench while eating the food your mother made yesterday. She didn’t leave you a note this time, seeing how upset you have been these past few days, which is a relief. It was quiet today. No girls to bother you, no one near your favorite large tree that the wind loved to surround.

Sure you’re relieved that you can finally eat food, relieved that you’re undisturbed, relieved you won’t have any more bruises.. but you aren’t happy. And you’re only able to eat half of your food before you lose your appetite.

You make sure to avoid everyone if possible. Throughout the scowls, the glances, and the even more hidden whispers, you keep your head low and move quickly to avoid interaction. Especially making sure to ignore a specific Miya twin. It’s not like he would deliberately talk to you now that the project is over, but still, you’d rather not see him at all.

Practice always arrived promptly. Although you’re doing all right, better than before perhaps, you don’t say much. Lucy looks like she wants to approach you a few times, but you make sure to pack up and exit so fast she’s unable to. Several times you nearly stumble into a set of yellow and grey-haired twins who leave their practice around the same time as you, as unfortunately, the other gym is right across theirs. Fortunately, you manage to quickly scurry away, enough for them not to notice you.

Atsumu lately is giving you more glances than usual as if he is planning on saying something. So when the bell rings you would rapidly spring out of your seat and run to the bathroom. Closing the stall, you’d sit on the toilet and hold your lunch to your lap, exhaling a relieved sigh.

You didn’t want to hear any more teasing. Not after that embarrassing display you showed.

It keeps replaying in your head over and over. The way you're pushed to the ground, surrounded by bullies, revealing your terror so promptly. The way Mr. Knight in shining black armor saves the day and makes you feel even worse.

I don’t need your help. Leave me alone. That phrase echoes in your head.

Pathetic. You can’t even deal with your problems, instead, Atsumu of all people helped, and worse.. it did something. You aren’t being targeted anymore and that was irritating. If it hadn’t been for him, you wouldn’t be in this stall right now miserably eating your lunch. Food would be in your hair, you’d come home to your mom and dad who’d ask how the day went, and you'd have to keep up the stupid lie of sharing your food.

Sighing, you pack up the rest of your lunch.

Kiyoko and the women trudge into the area, their hair a little damp, bits of food poking in it. Their heads hang low, and some are snickering at them.

It seemed the tables had also now turned, and you didn't know why.

You’re confused as you spot Atsumu chuckling, and some part of you is disappointed in him.

When you’re studying them, they manage to gather a collective scowl at you, and accustomed to the fear you swiftly spin.

Before everything, you'd eat alone, avoid any interaction, ignore bullying, play, run off, go home, stay in your room all day, do homework, and then go to sleep. It was just as it was, back to normal. No pathetic fangirls, no men, and no motherly teasing. No one spoke to you, everyone (besides Atsumu striving to get your attention) ignored you as you did to them.

Kiyoko might give you a few scowls sure, but did she deserve that?

It was perfectly justified, just how everyone decided it should be… Right?

A voice would selfishly reason that it is better than being the one who is repeatedly bullied. You would no longer dread going back to school, no more panic attacks at 4 am, just a plain good night’s sleep.

But you're not satisfied now.

It's just wrong.. all wrong.

When class ends, you encounter eyes with Atsumu.. then you do the unthinkable.

You start fixating as Kiyoko's aggressively packs her bags before going home. She’s too drowsy to even force a glare yet still has a hard hatred in her eyes when fixated. “Uh… hey, Kiyoko.”

“What?”

Atsumu is confused, and he’s frozen beside the door as he watches the exchange. You’re shyly fidgeting with your fingers and she scowls at you.

You mutter to not be heard by a certain someone. “Are you… okay?”

Kiyoko’s eyes widen, but It sharply settles to a glower that feels similar to Atsumu before he had told her off.

“Like you care.” She shoves past you, bumping your shoulder, and stomps out the room. It’s a silent pitiful pause before you start to do the same and Atsumu calls out to you.

“(Y/n) wait-“

He blocks the doorway, and you stand, crossing your arms. You have a cold expression, and you're glaring angrily. “What are you doing?”

“Getting your attention.” He looks pathetically desperate, and you grunt.

“No. I mean, what are you doing?” You firmly repeat, and he's visibly lost and doesn’t understand.

“Are you bullying Kiyoko?” He’s taken aback at your words, shocked. He doesn’t respond, he’s not sure how to when the answer is around the lines of, "yes- but not in that way."

A pin drop can be heard in the heaviness. You gather every bit of courage and force your way out, declaring something that makes him still.

“You’re such a jerk.”

Atsumu is accustomed to these words. Osamu, his team members, women, friends and, so on would say similar phrases along these lines. It shouldn’t have hurt, but when you did, there was a pang in his chest like none other.

This time when you rushed out of practice today, you saw Atsumu waiting outside.

“(Y/n) lis-“ You spin on your heel the opposite way and rush off. He sighs, slumping disappointedly. He fixates on your retreating form, a twitch prodding his lips into a small inevitable frown.

Osamu elbows him hard in the side, forcing him out of his trance and causing him to grumble.

“Talk to her.”

His shoulders fall as he watches your even farther form. You’re clutching your bag desperately tight, and your speed walking like you’re politely running away.

“Yea, easy for you to say. She doesn’t want to be talked to.”

“And how do you know?”

“Hm, I dunno, maybe her saying the words “leave me alone.” or you’re such a jerk.”

Rintaro joins the conversation as he walks out of the gym. “She’s a girl. All of them do that. In reality, that’s code for “give me attention.” Because if you don’t they’ll just get even more mad.”

Shinsuke follows after, stoically blinking. “Were you talking with her normally before?”

“I mean.. a little.. yeah.”

“So did you do anything impolite to make her not want to talk to you?”

Atsumu’s expression falters, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Well..”

“He made her cry, twice.” Osamu chips in, and Atsumu elbows him hard, his expression changing into a glare.

“Huh, maybe she does want you to leave her alone then,” Rintaro says.

He quickly slumps in defeat. “Yeah… I’ve been.. a bit of a jerk.”

The team side eyes each other. “A bit?”

“There's a possibility it can all be fixed by communication. Go apologize and talk about it,” Shinsuke says simply. Atsumi groans aloud, face planting.

“What if she hates me now Samu?”

“I was just trying to help.”

“Do you think I really am mean?”

“Do I deserve redemption?”

Osamu’s eye twitches at the tenth whine and nearly decks his brother in the face when they arrive home.

When you open the door to yours, you look miserable.

“Are you okay?” Your mother asks, and you let out an exhausted breath.

“Yeah.” Slipping your shoes off, you leave the rest of your lunch on the table and rush to go upstairs. Your mother is frowning once she opens the bento, finding the food only half eaten. It was just like before when there was no project, no bullies, and no boy.

Cuddling your blankets you turn on the TV to watch whatever. You remain like that for a few minutes before a gentle buzz vibrates the bed. Pulling it to your sight, you see

Miya Atsumu: “Can we talk?”

You huff and throw the phone away from you. What did he possibly have to talk about to have the nerve to text you?

The worst part is you didn’t even hate him for it, and you despised that you didn’t.

Maybe if you were a vengeful person, you’d be at peace now. You should just be happy that Kiyoko and the others are getting a taste of their own medicine. But you aren't. You’re not happy, it doesn’t make you proud, It makes you sad.

Frankly, you just want nothing happening at all. You’re okay with a boring life, no one speaking to you, no one being bullied, eating lunch, going to practice, coming home, eating dinner, and going to sleep. That’s it, that’s all you needed and you’d be happy.

But would you though?

All you can think about is the warm sputter of butterflies in your stomach when he brushed up against your leg at that desk last Friday. The way he so genuinely smiled and how it made your heart bloom. He’s so different when it’s with you alone, so how could he be so cruel?

At dinner time, you’re quiet and your parents send a few glimpses to another. There is a dull ache in your chest as you eat, and you can’t help but remember how your mom giggled when Atsumu was at the table. It’s a direct comparison to the painful silence right now. Your dad is reading the paper, your mom is awkwardly eating, and you’re pressing your hand against your cheek while shoving small forceful bits of food into your mouth.

“So..” your dad starts and you’re already dreading this.

“Anything new happening lately?” Your mom gives him a certain look as if saying are you sure you want to go into that?

“No.”

“How was the project?”

You shrug. “It was fine.”

“You’re no longer talking to that boy?” Your dad hesitantly asks. Your mom clears her throat when you go silent.

Your tone is frustrated and drawn out as you battle with your patience. “It was just a project Dad. We did our work and now it’s done, it’s been done since Tuesday.”

He slowly nods and looks at your mom again.

“Well..” she starts and you don’t know where it’s going but you give her a fed-up look. “Do you like him?”

You go silent again and you’re no longer eating, just playing with your food. There's a mixture of both disgust and affirmation to that question.

“No..”

They share a look. “Okay.”

“But..”

You sigh when it still keeps going.

“If you do… maybe you should talk to him.”

They don’t know the full story. All they know is a man you might like gets assigned to be your partner and sparks fly. They don’t know your mixed emotions.

They don’t know how he made you cry twice. The first from him practically calling you a loser and laughing in your face. The second, him seeing the embarrassing display of being bullied by his own fangirls, and worse, saving you from it. They don’t know the evil side of him when he is returning the favor to them right after.

“Yeah.. I guess.” You take a small unenthused bite of food, then stand, signaling that you’re done talking.

A buzz vibrates your phone, and you’re washing the dishes, ignoring the sound. You know who it is.

“Is that Atsumu?” Your mother chirps in, also just happening to know. It rumbles again and you sigh.

You want to say it was another friend or Lucy, but that would be a fat lie. No one texts you, you have no friends. Lucy didn’t even have your number, she was just a nice teammate. Your parents have been trying not to pester you about it, but now and then they would imply something along the lines of getting together or inviting a certain someone for dinner.

They didn’t know what was happening, they had zero rights.

Your curiosity gets the better of you. Subconsciously you pull it to your view and you see 2 notifications belonging to the name of Miya Atsumu.

Miya Atsumu: “Can I just explain?”

Miya Atsumu: “Please?”

Why did he want to talk to you so badly? You just can't understand it. Did he care about you or something? No. That’s out of the question.

For the first time you’re instinctively typing an angry response, forgetting that he can see the bubbles on his end. Crap. You delete it quickly and your heart stammers when you see an immediate text forming from him. A minute passes of nothing and you exhale a breath of relief, maybe he didn’t see and was caught up in his own text. Or he respected your lack of answer, which you doubted, but you’re glad you don’t see another.

Why did you still have his number in your phone anyway? The project was over, he isn't going to keep talking to you after he's bored. Just because he hasn’t been mean to you for those few days during the project didn't mean he suddenly changed.

A sting in your heart rejects that notion, remembering again the feeling of your heart when you both share a laugh and work beside each other. Whenever his eyes would twinkle at you so sweetly like he actually cared.

You should hate his stupid smug face, the way it looks at you, the way his eyes glimmer. You should hate him, and Kiyoko, and Angie, and Osamu, and.. and.. ugh. You’re practically scrubbing a plate down to the bone before your mother plucks it out of your hand.

“I think it’s clean now.” You’re groaning, jaw clenched so tightly you’re sure you’re going to snap something.

“Why don’t you just go upstairs, for now, I’ll finish the rest.” She says, grabbing the sponge out of your hands.

You breathe what feels like steam. “Fine.”

Over the next few days Atsumu is still desperately trying to get your attention. Practically doing anything in his power to make sure the stars align to speak to you. But you’re quicker.

Whenever you see that yellow hair you make sure to run far, bolting at the slightest resemblance. You never even manage to get to your locker before he’s in the hallway, so you’re forced to carry obnoxious books while you sprint off. Besides, even if the fangirls were told off, you’re sure they would do something once they see you speaking with him again. And it's not like you’d tell him either if something did. They can easily threaten you, and force you to meet up outside of school so you can get thrashed around.

Today he’s nowhere in sight and you’re finally releasing the pounds of weight off your arms.

“Hey.” A familiar stern voice shakes you to your core, and you slowly stand around to get a view of the person.

Osamu, thank god.

“Hi..?” You awkwardly press your back against the locker, staring at the calm features that replicate Atsumu. He looked much different, and his features are more relaxed.

“You’re (Y/n) right?” He asks.

You’d think he'd remember that after the time his brother made you run off with tears.

“Yeah..” you trail off, unable to meet his eye while you grip the strap of your bag tightly.

“Hm.” He pauses randomly, studying you, and you’re shuffling your legs nervously.

Finally, he speaks. “Do me a favor, tell Sumu off so he can finally stop bothering me.” You furrow confusedly.

“What?”

“He won’t shut up about you, I’ve been hearing it for weeks now," he groans. You’re eyes widen. You can't believe him, but he looks terribly annoyed just thinking about it that it makes it seem truthful.

“What? Weeks?” That didn’t make sense.

“Or get together already, I don’t care.” He sighs tiredly, like fed up with the world.

You huff, “All he cares about is bullying,” under your breath.

He shrugs, “He can't pull that off, he's too focused on whining like a baby trying to get your attention.”

If Atsumu was here, surely he’d be arguing with his brother, exclaiming, “That’s not true!” But you’re ogling at the imaginary scene, unable to even picture that.

You awkwardly say an "okay.." mainly to end the conversation.

He lets out a sigh, the only thing his mind can go to as he walks off is food. “I’m hungry.”

He’s gone before you could even respond, and you’re standing there, completely dazed. What even just happened?

It’s cold outside, it's the weekend luckily, and you’re bumping your volleyball at home to the wall, practicing your receives. No texts were received today which was nice. You knew he’d get bored. He’s fed up and the chain of command continues. You're free while others take your stead.

Guilt aches in your chest from that thought.

“Dinners almost ready (Y/n)!” Your mom calls out, and you pant into the wispy air. Setting the volleyball down, you take off your outside shoes and slide the door behind you. It’s warm, and your dry hands clasp together, receiving the heat. Your moms about to serve the food, and you stand at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m going to get my gloves for outside.”

She nods and you rush up. Where were they? You haven’t used them since last winter. You search in your closet, crouching to see if you can find the labeled bin. Hands digging deep into the space, you’re so concentrated on trying to find the mitts that you don’t even hear the knocking on the door.

You do hear small mutterings of your mother down the stairs, but can’t make it out too well. You shrug, assuming she was just talking to your father anyway.

“Oh my- yes yes, of course, come in. You must be freezing, poor dear.”

Ah! There they are! Stuffed in between your summer shorts and sandals. Guess you must’ve disorganized them along the way.

“Got them!” You walk downstairs with your head down, holding the mitts in your hand. You turn to set them on the table and cease the movement, eyes widened in shock. Your heart nearly leaps to your tight throat, and your stomach is anxiously swarming.

“What’s he doing here?” You look to your mom who just allowed your worst nightmare to come in. He’s panting, looking at you with determined eyes, his brows furrowed and his expression serious.

“Don’t be rude (Y/n). He came to see you. You don’t expect me to leave him out there in the cold do you?” She waves you off and walks to the kitchen to leave you two peering at another. You’re about to turn away to run back up the stairs, and he shouts out, “Wait!” You stop in your tracks, pursing your lips, eyes shut.

“Can we just talk.. please?” Your fingers are holding onto the railing, your right foot at the first step. Don’t look, don’t listen, just leave.

You turn around to face him, and his eyes widen a little. You turn to your mother who is making herself busy, and you gesture your head up the stairs. Were you really going to do this again? Why? Why are you doing this? Why aren’t you sending him out, shoving him away, and saying leave me alone?

He nods quickly and follows. Once the door closes you whip around to him, crossing your arms firmly. “Why are you here?”

You’re taken aback at his exhaustion, he’s panting, and his blonde hair is a little disheveled. He’s a mess, and you’re confused, he’s always so well put together with that plastered smirk that said “I’m better at everyone at everything, and I know it.”

You bite your lip, some guilt settling in your chest as you wait for him to catch his breath.

Eventually, he brushes his hair to the side, breathing deeply and fixating calmly on you. “Listen, I know you don’t want to talk to me. I know you don’t like me.. for good reasons.” You remain quiet, nodding to his words. He thinks a second before speaking again.

"But I didn't hurt Kiyoko or anyone else." You squint your eyes and he stumbles over his words. "Maybe I indirectly started it after I called her some mean things, but I wasn't the one who did that, like they did to you." You're humming as you think. You aren't sure if that pleases you.

He suddenly gestures low for a bow and you flinch a little at the fast movement. “I’m sorry for being a jerk. I'll do better, i'll make it up to you I promise.” You’re shocked at this change of heart and he continues, sputtering a little.

“I hope you can forgive me, it doesn’t have to be now.. just someday.. and I'll do whatever it takes to regain your trust, and if you still decide that I am not worthy of it in the end.. " He pauses. "That’s okay.. I’ll understand.”

You don’t even know what to say, but those are the last words you expected. He really felt.. sorry? Was that even possible? No that wasn’t right, this must be a ploy. Frankly, you don't get why he wants your trust so badly in the first place, but you’re kind of flattered.

Though.. Atsumu wouldn't lie would he? He’s hardly the type to even feel guilty over tears, he’d never stoop so low to beg for forgiveness if he didn’t want to. He is a jerk and he even admitted that, but he can’t be serious, can he?

Standing straight again, his serious expression alone proves you as wrong as can be, and he’s desperately scanning your expression, looking for any possible emotion. You quietly turn your head to the side, mind still mulling over the current scene.

When he recognizes the absence of words, he bows again, this time politely. “That’s.. all I wanted to say, I will leave now.” He turns his back to you, signaling his movement. The door opens and he’s about to step out, and you have a voice that’s screaming at you to stop him before it’s too late.

“Wait.”

He stops and looks at you expectantly, and you inhale deep. You shouldn’t be saying this, but you are.

“Apologize to Kiyoko too.” He grimaces like you just uttered the most foul words in existence.

He breaks out with a, “Huh?”

“Apologize to her, and the other girls.”

Again, he repeats even louder. “What?”

You press your hands against your waist, frustrated he isn't understanding.

“Apolo-“

“No, I heard you.” He presses a hand to his forehead and sighs.

"Why?" He asks, and you breathe deep.

"Because.. even if they started it.. I know how it feels, and I never want anyone to go through that."

It wasn’t exactly what he expected when he said he’d do anything for your trust, but he'd still do it for your sake. Although he might not agree with the choice, he can understand the need to have peace in your mind.

“Promise.” Your tone is firm and you’re pointing at him with your pinky. “Promise you’ll do it and be nice." You don’t even know why you expect him to agree and follow through, but you oddly trusted him.

The idea of apologizing to those girls of all people makes him grumble under his breath. He presses his pinky into yours and locks it, his voice filled with reluctance, “Yeah, I promise.”

“Good.” You nod, and when it gets silent again you clear your throat. "So.. do you want to stay for dinner?"

He gently laughs and shoves back the idea of what he'd have to do later.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He smiles genuinely and you nod.

Dinner is only awkward for a few seconds until your mother begins speaking to Atsumu. They laugh amongst each other and a small tug pries your lips.

The conversation stops as the front door opens and closes. Your father walks in and your mother claps her hands in excitement. He makes eye contact with Atsumu and they greet one another very politely. You’re suddenly anxious as your dad takes a seat beside you. He has a firm expression and presence, but it eases into pleasantness as holds his hand out to Atsumu.

“Atsumu right? I heard a lot about you, nice to meet you.” Atsumu shakes his hand and glimpses your way.

“Heard a lot about me?”

You know what he’s thinking and you turn a small shade of pink, glaring at your mom whose stifling a laugh. Your dad joins in the laughter, even Atsumu, and you’re beet red. You aren’t the one always talking about him.

“We’re just teasing (Y/n).” Your mom waves and you huff, forcing more food into your mouth.

“So tell me Atsumu, what’s your favorite food?” Your mom asks for no particular reason and you cough.

“Anything you make for (Y/n) is enough to keep me happy.” He responds pleasantly and your mom presses a hand to her chest.

“What a charmer.”

You're planning on rolling your eyes when you look at him. But you're surprised the way he seems so genuine. Most cases he is confident and smug, but the way he grins so happily right now shows you that you're wrong.

You avert from the scene and you can see him gazing at you longingly in your peripheral. Your cheeks dust pink.

The room gradually cascades with laughter, and your stomach flutters whenever he makes your parents laugh.

When it’s time for him to go, he politely thanks them for the meal and says his farewell. They let you walk him out. He steps outside and you’re fidgeting a little with your fingers. “Um so.. I’ll see you..”

He beams and rotates. “Yeah. Cya (Y/n)”

“Don’t forget the promise!!” You call out and even if it makes him sigh, he answers “I won’t.”

You close the door, walk to your room, and lay in the bed. Gazing at the ceiling you think of the scene that just transpired. Shoving your face into the pillow, a loud squeal escapes, and your legs dangle like a schoolgirl.

You did it. You actually fell for the jerk Miya Atsumu.

When it's Monday, you're nervous yet excited to finally get the peace you so crave and to prove to your heart that he is a good person.

He's dreading when he glances to Kiyoko. She’s visibly scared in her seat as he approaches her. "Hey." He starts, a little too aggressively right off the bat. You clear your throat, signaling him to be aware.

Exhaling a sigh, he presses his hand behind his neck. "Come on, you guys too." They all stand and jitter nervously, and you tail behind them.

They look like kicked puppies, and in a way it almost makes you feel pitiful.

He walks to the same terrible corridor you had frequented for those dreadful days. You remember the way they would dump food on you and kick you, yet even if it slightly hurt to witness what you're forcing him to do when.. you know it'll be worth it in the end. Finally he stops, and you do the same. Atsumu shuffles uncomfortably, like unsure he was going to get this far. They look freaked out and tense as planks while waiting.

He grits his teeth and sucks in every little bit of pride he has. "I'm sorry." Everyone blanks at the tone. It was a bit forced, but you suppose it had to do.

They're confused, unsure if this was some trick before you appear at his side and elbow him lightly. He's peering at you with a look that says “I have to say more?"

Grumbling and huffing, he continues, “sorry for treating you the way I did. I won’t do it again.” The apology comes out so eerily even they cringe. That was harder to force out than anything he’s said in his life, and that said a lot.

His eyes zone in on Kyoko mainly. She's bewildered and you wriggle awkwardly. The tension is worse than when you were forced to work with him on the project the first day. It's quiet and you touch his arm, forcing him to look at you with a certain gaze. You signal for him to leave them alone.

"Lets go."

He exhales a sigh, and his hand presses against your shoulder. Even in this weird scene you're blushing at the action. The girls are staring at you like deers in headlights, their mouths agape, slack jawed and stuck. The struggle to not send them a threat shooting down their spines had him walking away a lot faster than you would've thought and he's gone before you know it.

You awkwardly walk pass the group whose heads follow you like dolls. "Atsumu!" You call out, sprinting and panting down the halls.

He's grumbling to himself, speaking nonsensically and because of the height difference, his steps are like twice of yours. "Wait up!" He finally pauses, and turns to you surprised when he sees you holding your hands to your knees, exhausted.

He wants to be annoyed at you, but its hard to frankly, and when you're done heaving, you press your hand to him. He twitches a little and you look to him with wide twinkling orbs. "Thank you for doing that."

He blinks at you and pulls back nervously, a stammer in his chest. "Y-Yea.. no problem."

Suddenly every bit of him is glad it worked out this way.

As the days pass, you've been gradually getting more comfortable with him. You've been exchanging bentos, teasing another, sharing advice about volleyball(mainly on his side), and walking each other to practice. And Kiyoko wasn't sending you glares that much anymore which was nice.

You’re packing up your things as slowly as usual, and Sumu is stretching, complaining. “We’re gonna be late for practicee (Y/n).”

“Then goo.”

Atsumu huffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. You catch a side glance of Kiyoko who is still in class, feigning patience as she anxiously looks towards you and back. It could just be your imagination, but it looks like she might want to say something.

You angle your head toward her subtlety and he understands, fixating on the sight. She jolts at just the glimpse and is finding things to touch and direct her attention to. He gives you an annoyed look and you shoo him away.

If it wasn’t for appeasing you on this promise, he probably would be giving her hell right now you're sure. You pat him on the shoulder, practically begging with your eyes, and he nearly rolls his. Exhaling in defeat he points to the door.

“I’ll be outside.”

It’s a weird tension when he’s gone. You should've been timid and scared but you're not. Perhaps it’s because of Mr. fussy outside, or maybe because you just feel better about the situation and you're ready to hear what she has to say.

She walks to you very slowly and keeps her lips separated as she thinks. “So… um..”

“I did a lot of bad things to you..” She’s biting her lip and she speaks vaguely, either too ashamed or hesitant to confront you. You purse your lips when it gets silent, beginning to writhe at the heaviness.

“Your mom’s cooking really wasn’t that bad, I just.. wanted to be mean.. among other things..” She trails her words like there's more. Her voice gets real low, but you hear it, and she says "Sorry.."

It's a small pause before she continues, “I’d.. um.. probably be getting the same treatment.. if.. um..” she’s clearly struggling to elaborate, for fear perhaps it’d be too pitiful or embarrassing.

Her voice gets lower and she’s fixated on the corner of the room.

“I appreciate it.. Thanks..”

You awkwardly respond with a nod.

She mimics that motion, then grabs her things and timidly sprints off. Surely she met Atsumu on the way out, and hopefully, nothing is said between the two. A small contempt smile is on your face. You're happy.

Before you can even finish walking out the door hands instantly meet your shoulders. You’re abruptly whirled around to meet Atsumu who is filled with concern.

“Did she do anything?” His hands touch your chin, moving it directly yet gently to the left, then to the right, up, and down. He's carefully examining the way your strands are positioned to see if it differed from when he left, if there's a crinkle in your clothes, if your skin is touched, anything he could possibly notice.

You playfully slap his fingers away. “I’m fine Sumu, nothing happened. We just talked.”

His eyes raise, and he doesn't look like he believes you. “You just talked?” You nod shyly.

“About what?” He’s trying to hide the small irritation in his voice but you can tell it’s just slightly there. You supposed it was reasonable though.

You want to tell him, but for the sake of her privacy (and pride mainly) you say “… Girl things.”

He still doesn’t seem to believe you but he hums anyway. “Nothin' bad?” You hold your pinky out to him.

“Promise.”

You two would then stroll to the gymnasiums, and Lucy would greet the both of you before you'd separate and begin conversing. Then when practice would finish you found that you had been bolting out the door much faster than anyone and shouting, “Bye! See you tomorrow!”

You'd rush to meet with the twins who usually were just beginning to walk out. Atsumu would grin at you, and you’d blush as you talk to him, pushing stray hair behind your ear. He walked you home like usual, sometimes even greeting your mother who will try to (always) invite him to dinner.

He might make some excuse and say he’s busy, or.. secretly your favorite, when he decides to stay and sometimes even hang out with you in your room to do homework together. But nothing else came of it, just homework. You enjoyed the time together when he and you would sit very close, quietly writing, reveling in the peace.

Luckily today was one of those days.

Atsumu likes concentration, he is oddly very silent and focused when he works. The only time he would get a little annoyed is when there were unnecessary sounds, like pens clicking too much or chatter. You understood that, so it’s easy for you two to work together.

Yet even when you two are starting at the same time, he manages to do it very quickly once he gets himself in the moment. This skill he had made it so that he was always done first, and from there he would typically head off since it’d always be like 8 or so. That always made your heart drop a little.

This time though, he sits on your bed and yawns. You blink at him confused, and he gestures you over. “Let’s watch a movie.” Your heart thumps at the idea, but you remember there's still work sitting on your desk.

“I still have a bit more to do..”

“It’s Friday, I’m confident you can get it done before Monday.” He teases and you avert your attention to the worksheets left. It wasn’t that much, that’s true. You could just do it tomorrow.

He’s a bit more gentle with his tone when he speaks. “I’ll make it up to you if you don’t get it done, promise.”

“Okay..”

You sit near him but not too near. You're unsure if he wants you close in this case. You never actually sat next to him without being in chairs. It was kind of strange.

Your stomach is blooming with nervous butterflies again, and your heart is racing at the idea of just being on the bed with him. Atsumu grabs the remote and pulls you out of your daze.

“Any picks?”

“Um... maybe a comedy?” He’s a little taken aback by that choice but then shrugs, a casual smirk returning.

“Comedy it is.”

He picks a random movie, and settles into his spot comfortably. On the other hand, you’re tense in yours, and perhaps a foot or so away from him.

“What are you so nervous lookin' about?" Sumu nudges.

“You’re not gonna bite me?” You joke, and he laughs, easing your anxiety quickly. You make an excuse to shuffle a little closer to him as you move into “comfort” as well.

“Unless you want me to. No," he says jokingly. You quiet, a blush forming. Just like how you sit beside another in the chairs, your knee is nearly touching his, but without a sort of barrier.. this feels almost closer.

The movie starts and you side-eye him, watching as his attention is on the TV. You look away and attempt to mimic. He does the same once you focus ahead, examining you for more than a few before averting. The movie is quick to make you both snicker in your seats. Still, for almost half an hour, you’re struggling to pay attention, you’re just so focused on how he feels next to you. Safe and.. warm.

He leans in a little closer. You fail to notice and yawn. He blinks down at you, moving back. “Tired?”

You mumble “A little bit.”

“Want me to pause it for now?” He waits for your answer and your lips purse. If you say yes he might leave, you can’t waste this moment on tiredness. He’s right, it’s Saturday tomorrow, you can relax all you want then.

“(Y/n).” He calls and you’re still lost in thought.

Suddenly his fingers gently turn your chin, and when you blink back to reality, he’s very close to you. He’s so pretty too.

After a second or two you instantly pull back. “Oh, sorry, yes… you can do that.” He nods and pauses it. For some reason, his expression is a little defeated, but you're not sure why. He stands up and you know where this is going.

“It’s getting late, so.. time for me to go home.” He fakes a stretch and you nod.

“I’ll walk you out.”

Before he leaves you call out to him. “Hey..”

“Let’s finish that movie okay?”

He smiles at that.

Over the next few weeks, the same still repeated. You hung out a little more, but it was nothing too different, just small closeness and intimate lunch moments for 30 minutes. Though lately you find yourself confused and saddened when he refuses to come in. He’s politely said no to your mother nearly all of the time now.

“Does he like me, Mom? What do you think? Why won’t he come in?” You anxiously groan, pressing your hands to your face at the 20th imaginary scenario that plays.

“I’m sure he does sweetie, I just think he needs some time to think about it.” She’s washing the dishes while you groan.

“Think about if he likes me? If he has to think about it, doesn’t that mean he doesn’t?”

“No, that doesn’t mean that.”

“Then what does it mean?”

She sighs a little.

Before you were always quiet about the details, embarrassed even, but now you are so frustrated and scared you just won’t stop talking.

Did you do something wrong? No, you still ate lunch together most of the day. He still walked with you after volleyball, (even if occasionally he’s been making more excuses). So what was it?

Atsumu was more than a little disappointed after that day at your house. He finally made a move, and you were not the slightest bit interested. After all that time together he thought maybe you’d reciprocate, at least a tiny bit. You might’ve still thought of him as a bully which was a sucky thought, even if fair.

He loses focus in practice today, setting a little too high, a little too low, serving into the net, and sometimes missing completely. That was completely new for him, and he had to say, it blew more than he thought.

“Hey,” Osamu points at him. "You set way too high there this time. One more mess up and you owe me."

Atsumu groans loudly.

“Why are you so mopey lately?” Michinari asks.

“He thinks he blew it with his crush,” Osamu answers and his twin nearly kicks him in his side. Shinsuke walks behind them, and the aura alone is enough to make them stop fighting.

Hitoshi gasps as if Atsumu being in love is so uncharacteristic. “You have a crush?!”

Rintaro rolls his eyes. “Just talk to her.”

Aran pats the setter’s shoulder. “Just proclaim your love man, it’s a whole lot better than overthinking.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Shinsuke asks, completely oblivious. “If she doesn’t like you, then it just means you can move on and not have to worry about it anymore.” Although painfully realistic, it strikes something in Atsumu.

His expression shifts and he nods firmly. If you declare you don’t like him, then the ache in his chest will move on and he won’t have to deal with this anxiety anymore.

This was it then, this was going to be the day he asked you.

Practice runs a little later than usual and he makes sure to run out as fast as possible to see you walking kind of mopey. “Hey, (Y/n)!” Atsumu calls to you, making you rotate.

Your eyes instantly lighten, and you grin. “Sumu!”

He returns the smile. “Practice good?” He asks.

“It was good! It was good. I’d say I can teach you some things now.” You lightly jab, poking him.

He scoffs, “Once you finally receive my serve, I’ll think about it.”

His hand mockingly pats your head to measure the height difference, and you pout, face a little pink. The rest of the walk is filled with both of you play-fighting with each other and teasing until you reach your house.

You’re silent, shuffling as to delay the inevitable.

“So.. do you want to come in..?” You ask, a hopeful trail at the end of your word. You’re sure he’s going to say no.

“Yup, I can do that today.”

“That’s o- wait-“ you gasp, “really?!”

He smiles, enamored at your excitement.

“I’m free all night.”

Butterflies are shooting, and you’re secretly hopping as you open the door.

“Welcome ho- oh! Atsumu! It’s been so long, how are you?” Your mother greets.

“Evening miss (L/n), just been busy is all.” Atsumu is politely smiling and you dazzle.

“It happens. Dinner isn’t ready, so you guys can do your work and I’ll call you after.”

You nod, and he does the same before you bolt off to your room.

His heart is probably stammering faster than yours now.

“Want to finish that movie?” You ask gleefully.

He chuckles and answers, "really? No workin' today?"

Seeing it as a rejection, you can’t help but slump in defeat, instantaneously frowning. The scene breaks his heart a little and he rushes to respond with better words before you cut him off.

“No- we can, I just thought- maybe- well.. yeah- never mind. After though?” You’re staring at him with big eyes, and he is smiling sweetly again.

“Unless you have to go after, which is fine, that’s okay.” He shuts you up by placing his hand on your arm, and you blink up at him through your lashes so prettily it makes him hold his breath.

“Yes, that’s fine.”

Quickly nodding, you impatiently sit down at your desk and gesture for him to do the same.

“Listen (Y/n)..” Atsumu has a tone in his voice that sounds serious, maybe scared, and you turn, pursing your lips. A sudden nervousness washes over you.

“Yeah..?”

When he sees your sad expression he zips his lips. “Nothing, never mind.”

“Okay..” you say, unconvinced. He takes a seat next to you, and a blush dusts your cheeks. You really miss this.

Eventually, it becomes comfortable again, and you're pointing to your phrases and looking to him for advice. Truthfully it was sort of an excuse to keep talking to him before he might leave in a few. "Is this good?" You ask.

"Yup." He'd say, and then purposely you'll talk about grammar or other subjects to get him going. But today he wasn't really responsive, he looked tense and felt strange. He was fidgeting, which is never much his thing, and half the time he wasn't working. When you turn to him, his eyes are always lost in thought, contemplating blankly while his pen is unmoving.

You'd occasionally ask, "Are.. you okay Sumu..?"

"Hm? Oh, yea, I'm good." He'd shake himself out of the strange fixation and get back to work like nothing happened.

Your heart falls a little. Maybe he just doesn't want to hang out with you.

"Um.. listen.. (Y/n)." He finally turns to you after a long hour of silence. His tone is more serious again, and you're terrified he's going to say what you hope to not be true. You wait for him to talk, but your patience is thinning as he opens his mouth, closes it, opens, and closes, and you spit out, "Do you want to leave?"

"Wha- no no, it's um.." He clears his throat and he presses his hands together.

"I.. like you (Y/n)."

It takes a second or two before the words sink in, and you're frozen. What?

As in platonic right? Or..

He’s desperately searching for your reaction, waiting to see either reciprocation or disgust. Your mind is rushing for what to think but it's empty. His stomach starts to drop when he doesn’t receive a reply, and he assumes that means denial. His body sinks and the disappointment is clear in his face.

The silence is disturbed by a shaky inhale. You ask, “What… do you mean?”

Atsumu opens his mouth to speak but keeps it slightly agape, his gaze glued to you.

“Like.. love, (Y/n). I love you.”

He's aching to see any clear expression again and your eyes widen in surprise. You feel weightless, there's an explosion in your head and you're unable to think.

"I.." he's holding his breath as you sputter nervously.

"I um.." he's nodding, biting his lower lip and waiting impatiently.

"I.. love you too.."

He's now mimicking your past emotions, and it goes quiet.

You start, "So.. does that mean..um.." you're mumbling now, too anxious to finish the question.

"You'll be my girlfriend?" He asks, and you twinkle up at him. His eyes look so vibrant even in the dim lighting, and his hair falls a little at his face. You move to shyly brush it back, pushing closer to him.

He takes this as a move, and suddenly his lips are pressed into yours. You're frozen for a moment but ease into it quickly. It's like fireworks went off in your brain, and you answer a breathless "Yes," as he pulls away.

“I’m glad..” Atsumu finally lets out a small laugh, and you share in it, your face a fuming pink.

"Do you.. want to finish that movie now?" You shyly ask, and he nods, grinning.

Your bodies are huddled close to each other, his arm wrapped around you. You're leaning into the warmth as the light from the TV flickers. A lingering smile is shared and you turn to him. Your eyes meet and you're already instinctively moving. A kiss is shared again, this time longer and deeper. Your breath hitches when it ends, but you're smiling, and so is he. Hearts softly thumping against one another.

This is finally the peace you wanted.

#fanfic #x reader #angst #fluff x reader #angst with a happy ending #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #miya twins #anime x reader #female reader #bully x reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 10 months ago

Text

Vil, Jack: a Strength that Shines

Ayyy, it’s the childhood friends (?) from the Shaftlands!! It feels like forever since we last got any significant interactions between Vil and Jack. Nice to see them chatting again~

bdjwvsjsGuabs THAT GROOVY THOUGH… Vil looks so judgmental and dismissive 😭 Channeling all his Mean Girl energy to diss Neige Snow White, lol

A Tale as Old as Time.

Four sides drew together to form a glittering box. A lovely maiden rested within the coffin-like casing of the photo frame. Her lips as red as blood, her hair as dark as ebony, and her skin as fair as snow.

She was circled by foliage, her sun-dappled face tilting up, disarmed by some distant call. The girl cupped her dainty hands together, housing a small baby blue bird in her palms. Kindness, goodness, grace—she exuded all of them.

Vil scoffed, tossing golden hair over his shoulder. Her smile was reminiscent of a rival celebrity, one pure as a dove's feathers.

So carefree, so cheery.

How irritating, he sighed.

"One ought to be more cautious in the woods. Who knows what dangers might lurk nearby, wishing to enact harm upon her.

"For a glamour shot though... Hmm, yes. This composition is acceptable. The sunlight is angled upon her face in a pleasing way—it casts a golden glow on her pale visage and highlights the highest points: cheeks, nose, chin, and forehead. The impression is one of total innocence.”

A soft grunt sounded from beside him.

"She's... shining," Jack commented plainly. His critique, clipped. “Didn’t you do a photo shoot like this recently? Similar place and everything.”

Vil’s beauty was momentarily marred by a grimace. “Yes, as promotional material for an upcoming film. However, the feel of it was completely different than what you see here.”

Shadows instead of sunlight. Temptation in the place of innocence.

He, poised amid the creeping branches and dark leaves, a tatter cloak clinging to his curves. A single, crimson apple in his grasp, a sultry look directed at the camera.

He tried to picture himself like the girl in the frame countless times over. Kneeling among the woodland creatures, smiling so serenely. Any pro could pull it off—he included.

But the image never turned out right in his mind.

Not the right amount of sweetness, not natural enough.

Not quite the same.

Not at all.

Blood, sweat, tears. Sacrifices made at the altar. Yet still, the world yielded nothing but broken promises and shattered dreams. The splintered parts and shambles of them, he gathered, forming his own makeshift hope and determination.

He couldn’t give in here.

Vil’s perfectly groomed brows scrunched up.

“I shall have to endeavor to work even harder. I’m not satisfied with things as they are now.”

“Heh.” Jack cocked a small, lopsided grin. “Keeping on the grind… That’s just like you. You've got this."

“Obviously. Nothing will get accomplished otherwise.” Vil’s eyes passed over to the beastmen. “Presumably, you are doing the same."

"Yeah. Haven't skipped a day of my training regimen." Jack slapped a hand on his bicep, which fit snuggly in his glittering white sleeve. "We'll take out RSA next track and field meet!"

"I'd certainly hope so. If I am to taste sweet revenge, I'd prefer it be by my own hand... but I trust you to deliver in my place. I expect good news when next we speak. Do not disappoint me."

"Yessir!" Jack's tail wagged enthusiastically. He stood alert, saluting like a loyal knight. “I'll do my best!"

“Then it looks as though we both have our long-term goals set.” The dorm leader planted his hands on his waist—slim, cinched.

"Yours is...?"

"To surpass myself." Vil jerked his chin toward the girl in the painting. "To shine so brightly that my name not only goes down in history, but overshadows that which was written before."

"That's some big dream you have." Jack shook his head. "The scale's beyond what I can imagine. But knowing how stubborn you are, Vil-senpai... You seriously won't quit until you make that dream come true."

"My, my. Stubborn, am I?" He smirked, arms crossed. "I do believe it takes one to know one.

"You stand back and watch. I'll show you just how dazzling I can be."

His eyes held a steeliness to them. It was matched only by the same in Jack’s. Two strong men and their wills, meeting on equal grounds.

Jack simply nodded—an acknowledgment, an acceptance, of his upperclassman’s confidence. Overwhelming, like a powerful wave, a strong storm, a blazing inferno. He almost felt compelled to drop to one knee, to kneel before such a presence.

Vil turned away from the painting, his arms unraveling from one another. His movements were graceful, nearly ballet-like. And his expression—

Jack caught him mid-laugh. The snooty, airy kind, half-sincere, half-sarcastic. Brows upturned, mouth twisted in a faux sympathetic smile. Flaxen waves framing his lovely features.

His lips moved.

“I’ll topple you from your throne,” Vil vowed.

It was then that Jack noticed.

Vil-senpai's shining like the fair maiden.

#twisted wonderland #twst #Vil Schoenheit #Jack Howl #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #something no one asked for #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #spoilers #Vil birthday takeover

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khunyuki · 8 months ago

Text

"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ꜱɪᴅᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ: 𝚊. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝

Synopsis: To Hoshina Soshiro, it was a feeling of love not at first sight but even before he met her, he knew he loved her. To Uzui Kagami, he was her hopes and dreams came true and learned to love him since. From childhood until adulthood, they've been together. Witness their romance from the past! A bond that can never be broken so easily for it is formed by the culmination of time.

Pairing/s: Soshiro Hoshina x Fiancee!OC

Notes: I am posting this first because I thought it would be better to show their good relationship first than the planned main story. Soshiro is down bad for his fiancee.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Childhood Sweethearts, School Romance

Masterlist: TOC, Next

One of the happiest days in Uzui Kagami's life was the day, she and Soshiro became engaged as children. During her earliest memories, she absolutely adored her parents' relationship and dreams to have the same once she got older. To her surprise, a visit to some place other than her house changed the trajectory of her life! Why? Because her dream has finally come true! At least half of it did.

From that moment onwards, she would often visit the Hoshina estate to train with them and be with her fiance. Poor Kagami was so shy that despite this being what she wanted, she couldn't even bring herself to come near him, satisfied with just watching him from afar.

Kagami would hide behind a pillar or a wall and watch the Hoshina brothers train, with her eyes on Soshiro and Soshiro only. She would admire his skills, his looks, his growth, and his persistence. Not that she could tell him that, she couldn't even be in the same room as him without clamming up.

For the first few weeks of introduction, she would gaze at him from afar until his older brother could no longer handle it. Soichiro-niisan dragged her out of her hiding spot like a wet kitten and placed her on the sidelines to observe closely. She tried to run away but ultimately failed from his tight grip.

"Kagami-chan, you don't have to peek from afar when you could just watch here"

Soichiro-niisan tried to smile softly in order to calm the girl he just dragged over. But all it did was to make her cower and fidget uncomfortable while looking down.

"Don't bully her, nii-san"

Soshiro, with his two bamboo swords, hit his brother with their swordstyle mercilessly.

"Ouch! Wait! Soshiro! I'm sorry so please stop already!"

Having been caught off guard with no weapons, Soichiro would've accept his hits if it didn't hurt so much. It was rare to see this side of his brother, after all.

Once he stopped, only then did Soshiro turn to look at Kagami. She had long since stopped cowering and was now admiring him. Was he her prince charming or her knight in shining armor? Maybe both, cause him saving her made her like him even more.

"You can just stay here and watch"

He said so coolly with much composure and returned to his training. Kagami could only blush, trying to hide how giddy she was feeling.

As a child, Hoshina Soshiro didn't bother to understand what his family were talking about if it wasn't related to training or kaijus. He would attempt, yes, but his young brain still isn't able to comprehend it well.

They said something about an engagement between him and someone he will meet that day. He doesn't mind if it's something his parents decide for him. Arranged marriages are common like his older brother who already has a fiancee too.

It truly dawned on him from the moment his eyes laid on a particular shy girl that just entered the room. She was hiding behind her father but would peek out several times. He could only catch glimpses of her but he could already feel the pounding of his heart.

It was weird. He never experienced such having his heart beating so fast when resting. Was it because she reminds him of a squirrel, so cute and fidgety? He didn't know but when their eyes met, it felt like arrow shot through his heart.

It was love at first sight.

Soshiro was blushing madly for the very first time and his older brother doesn't help at all with all his teasing. Maybe it was the commotion that his brother was making that set their engagement in stone.

Cause when Kagami looked up from her bow, he was already avoiding her eyes. Especially once he saw her hopeful face and sparkly eyes. It struck a critical hit to his heart.

From that moment onwards, he would see her around the estate. She would sometimes be training on the dojo or watch him and his brother train from afar. Whenever she's watching, he couldn't help but take glimpses of her causing him to be distracted and lose cue his older brother's teasing.

As much as he wanted to look cool, he couldn't really do it after losing to his brother, can he? The saving grace for him would be when his brother picked her up and put her down next to him. It annoyed him when he did so cause how could his brother touch his fiancee like that. Soshiro was able to look cool by 'defending' her from his brother.

Be that as it may, it was truly bad for his young heart to have her around him like this. How could he remain calm when she's been staring at him the whole time. If he did talk to her while looking at her face, he can't guarantee not stuttering in front of her.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 5~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

It didn't take long for the two of them to be close enough to feel comfortable with each other's presence. They could just sit on the porch without talking and they're already content with it. Occasionally, they would spar until it became a bonding moment just for the two of them.

Most of their progress was all thanks to Soichiro-niisan who decided that it was his duty to be as meddlesome as possible in his brother's lovelife. He, not only would egg on his little brother by calling him weak, but also tease him in front of his crush. It contributed to the explosive growth of Soshiro when his task is to keep his older brother's mouth shut tightly from embarrassment.

Soshiro would continue to lose over and over again but demands to have a rematch even if it meant having tantrums in front of Kagami. He knew he was losing face by doing so but he atleast wanted to look cool yet his brother kept denying him of that.

Much to Soichiro-niisan's surprise and pleasure, his taunts did not only work on his little brother but also his little sister-in-law. As clueless she may be, she could tell if the words being said were an insult to her fiancee. Kagami would bring out her meanest look and glare at her big brother-in-law.

During those times, Kagami would scold him for bullying his little brother and say that Soshiro is the best swordsman in the world despite being so young and he could beat him because he's always been working hard and putting in effort more than anyone else. It would only be at the end that she realizes that it was all a bait from the smirk on his face as he leave the two blushing figures alone.

It still took a while for them to be close enough to make eye contact with being a mess. But atleast they got to talk to each other as a result.

To Hoshina Soshiro, it was the beginning of something new.

To Uzui Kagami, it was the start of her dream come true.

It was the age of innocence where seeds have been planted, not knowing what kind of fruit it will bear.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 7~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Two years after their engagement, they were now a bit more mature yet still childish. They understand that they have duties to perform and live up to expectations of the adults. Such burdens, when introduced to children was a lot of pressure to say the least.

Soshiro acknowledging to himself that he is a reject compared to his perfect brother. Only his persistence to wield the sword was his salvation.

Kagami having to face countless trials not knowing that it might never end in the pursuit of perfection. In hopes of being acknowledged by her family despite her grief.

Just last year, Kagami's mother died along with her unborn baby brother. It was an unfortunate incident where a kaiju appeared near the hospital on the day of her checkup and they got caught in the aftermath. Ever since then, her father became a different person along with her other clan members.

The shift in the atmosphere was so obvious that even Kagami, as dense as she is, could feel it. She was restricted from visiting the Hoshina estate in order to prepare herself as the sole heir to the head of the clan. Many times she wished to run away but she couldn't do so because whenever she got caught, more punishment would just await her.

Her solace was when the Hoshinas would come to visit. They would dress her up and tell her to smile and act like nothing happened to not disgrace her family any further. In which, she does so without question cause just meeting her fiancee was enough for her.

Soshiro felt a pleasant surprise with how Kagami welcomed him to her home with much excitement but maybe that was just him missing her as it has been a long time since they last met each other.

As they were given the time to be alone, he knew that it was an act shown to the people around them. Only with him does she show her real face, as does he. Their comfort is with each other, comrades in their struggles at their young age.

In the place where Hoshina Soshiro believes that he is a reject, to Uzui Kagami he is perfect just the way he is.

In the place where Uzui Kagami has to be perfect in every way, to Hoshina Soshiro her imperfections are part of her charms.

The seeds have been nurtured and sprouted, taking root into the deepest pits of their hearts.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 13~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Middle school is the place where young teens start to experience such things called hormones. Spring is the moment of encounters but it is also the season of love.

Kagami doesn't think that being in middle school would change anything as it is just a small part of her life. She didn't think it was as important as her life back at home. That's what she try to tell herself because it's been over a year and she never had any friends yet.

It doesn't matter does it, she thought. But in reality, she blames her shy personality and being an introvert for making her lose out on things. Her pessimistic attitude doesn't help as it only makes things worse.

Hormones were the worst thing ever as it developed her body in the most uncomfortable ways like the sudden growth of her chest and the hellish pain of losing blood on a monthly basis. It also messes up her mind by giving her complicated thoughts and the sudden influx of emotions was enough to make her crazy as she has to act like nothing is happening.

There was one thing she believes in though. Love. It was something she already experienced herself and will continue to do so in the future. This age only gives her fantasies of what she wants their relationship to be like if she gets the courage to make a move.

"What are you thinking to make you smile like that?"

Soshiro asked as he long put down his book in order to observe her. Since when? She didn't know but being caught in the act itself was enough to make her feel embarrassed.

"I-It's nothing!"

While she tried to cover her face with the book on her hands, Soshiro pretended to think by placing his thumb and index finger on his chin before he revealed a mischievous grin.

"Were you... Thinking about me? Even though I'm right in front of you?"

Hoshina Soshiro struck a homerun! If only the ground could swallow her whole so that she could hide, but there is no hole to hide inside the library. She had to settle with pressing the book closer to her face as that's the only way she could hide.

"You're so cute~"

Soshiro chuckled with his eyes open as she fidgets around and didn't know what to do. Can a human being possibly melt? Cause she's combusting so much she could melt.

"Please stop teasing me"

She let go of her book and buried her face in her arms on the table to hide her burning face. It was a futile attempt as she was already caught but she still did it anyways. At least let her keep her dignity!

She could hear him getting up from his seat and sitting beside her. His fingers brushing her hair and tucking it behind her burning ears.

"It's true though"

He paused and she couldn't help but take a peek at the rustling beside her. He was in the same position as hers yet peeking at her with his eyes open, showing that soft and sweet smile that is exclusively for her eyes only. Maintaining eye contact to show the seriousness of his words.

"For me, you're the prettiest girl in the entire world"

Uzui Kagami.exe has stopped working.

Hoshina Soshiro.exe has also stopped working.

Thank goodness it was only the two of them in the library at this hour, otherwise, it would be the listeners who dies at second-hand embarrassment from their flirting.

The buds of youth quivers at its desire to bloom.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 15~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Hoshina Soshiro has made it a habit to tease his fiancee whenever possible. He couldn't help it when her reactions are so cute and amusing. He feels proud to being the only one with the right to see her like that.

He often smirks and act smug in front of his classmates and the other boys in their school, those he clearly knew has a blatant crush on his fiancee. Sometimes he wishes that she knows just how popular she is so she could feel confident in herself but at the same time he's glad she doesn't know.

It was always clear as day that she favors him more than any other, to him and to the people around them. To others, she would grace a polite smile and only answer their questions professionally. With him, she would laugh at his jokes and engage in conversations. Showing off that sweet smile that captivates anyone who sees it, including Soshiro.

Soshiro didn't know how many times he had to control himself from glomping at her and keeping her by his side, somewhere only he can see. The same smile that critically hit his heart on the first day they met continues to do so every single day, each time getting more powerful.

When he reminisces on their first meeting to now, he could see the improvement on their relationship for they had grown closer than before. If in the future, they continue to be together while working and get married then have kids---.

Stop! He's getting ahead of himself when they hadn't even hold hands yet... Wait... They haven't hold hands yet?

"Soshiro? Soshiro! Are you okay? You suddenly slapped yourself"

Asked Kagami with eyes filled with concern at his unexpected actions, not knowing she was the cause of it.

"It was nothing"

"Eh? Are you sure? That looks painful though"

She lifted her arm so her hand could touch the growing bruise on his cheeks. The feeling of her fingers gingerly touching his cheeks like it was something fragile and precious felt like static so he winced.

"It is painful! Come on, let's go to the infirmary to dress it okay?"

She immediately held his hand like it was a natural thing to do and dragged him to the infirmary. Soshiro felt stupid at his earlier thought. Who said they haven't hold hands yet? They were doing it now, weren't they?

Still, he hopes she doesn't turn around to look at him so she wouldn't see just how red his face is.

Since then, Soshiro keeps making excuses to touch her hand. He doesn't need to since she'll gladly let him do so anytime.

You must give it sufficient nutrients in order to bloom.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 18~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Ever since they were children, they've been training hard to join the defense force as their ultimate goal. To slay kaijus, serve their country, and make their family proud.

After passing the written exams, Uzui Kagami and Hoshina Soshiro are confident in their abilities to pass the second part of the exams as well.

"Are you nervous?"

Soshiro asked the girl beside him as they stand in front of the venue, squeezing her hand in comfort.

"Just a little bit"

Kagami placed her free hand on her chest, not only was she nervous of the exams but also the thought of encountering new people.

"Me too. But we've been working hard for this for a very long time, haven't we?"

Soshiro despite being nervous himself cheered her up. In doing so, cleared both his and her worries.

"You're right"

Giving one last squeeze on each other's hands, they walked inside and took the test.

The two of them settled inside a cafe as they revealed the envelopes that will change their lives.

"Somehow, i'm getting nervous that my hands are shaking"

Kagami said as she attempted to stop her shaking, the tension was making her hands clammy and sweaty.

"Do you want to open it now?"

Soshiro was calm, seeing her this fussy once more felt like his nervousness was transferred to her instead of him. He felt guilty but still thinks she was cute like this.

"No matter the outcome, i'll still be proud of you"

He tried to comfort her with his words though it somehow only deepened her frown.

"I can't have that. We have to pass together"

With deep concentration, she took her envelope in her hands and opened it. Though struck by her resolve, he could only smile and shake his head, copying her actions.

Uzui Kagami/Hoshina Soshiro, as a result of you satisfactory performance, you have PASSED the exam.

A moment of silence before...

"We did it! We passed!"

With a rare outburst of joy, Kagami hurriedly moved out her seat to his and tackled him with a hug. Soshiro was expecting them to both pass but it truly does bring him joy when she expresses her happiness so well.

It was one of the rare instances that he sees of her initiating things. And he was indulging in it.

"Let's celebrate this occasion with some Mont Blanc and coffee"

Kagami called for the waiter and gave their orders. At the same time, she went back to her seat after recovering from her high. It felt like they could hear each other's thoughts as they both bowed to each other.

"Let's continue to work together from now on. Please take care of me"

Rewarding their hard work and efforts, the flower finally bloomed.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~Early 20's~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Kagami and Soshiro joined the same division and stayed there together, having only each other's backs. It wasn't without struggle for them as they both specialize in sword slaying. Kagami was more flexible of the two as her precision and accuracy was better in long distance range so she could easily pick up a gun, but still she prefers to use swords if she could.

On one particular day, she heard her fellow officers making fun of her and her fiancee. It would've been fine if they were insulting her only but they also had to insult him. She was usually calm and quiet, preferring to keep to herself but she would never let anyone who insults Soshiro continue to yap their mouths.

"Please take that back! Soshiro-san has been working hard this entire time and putting in double the effort more than anyone else! If you give him a chance, you will understand that he can shine even brighter when he uses his swordsmanship!"

Hoshina Soshiro wonders why there was a crowd forming just outside the training room, until he heard a familiar voice inside of it. That voice, usually so calm and quiet to the point of whisper, was loud enough to pique the attentions of passersby. It wasn't only her uncharacteristic outburst that was eye-catching but also the words she's saying were. For it was filled with praises for him.

Once Soshiro realized that he was the topic of the conversation, he felt shy but he wanted to stop her even more. He doesn't want her to fight their fellow officers nor does he want her to get scolded by their superiors.

After wrestling his way through the crowd, he finally dragged her away, offering apologies on her behalf. Even if they did deserve the scolding they received from her, and doesn't really want to apologize to them, he had to do so out of courtesy.

Once he got her away to somewhere private, she was still quite upset, eyes glistening with unshed tears. She refused to look at his face and look down.

"I appreciate you defending me, Kagami. However, it's not like you to be that angry"

Soshiro urges her to look at him, to stare at his eyes by placing his hands on her cheeks. Once she look up, he could see the sad expression on her face. She was sad for him.

"They went too far. They don't know how great of a person you are. You're the best when it comes to close combat and slaying small kaijus, you could eliminate more than any of them could yet they still..."

"Thank you"

He wanted her to say more but her current state wouldn't let her. She was a bawling mess in his hands as he wipes away her tears. It was her first time crying in front of him yet he felt happy. All because she was thinking of him, all of it was for his sake and never yours.

The truth is, he was so incredibly touched by his fiancee's actions. It almost moved him to tears himself. Everyone wanted him to stop, his superiors and his family, yet she hopes that he could keep going. She pushes him to do what he loves despite people saying otherwise.

If they weren't at work right now, or if they were somewhere more private than the place he chose, he would've kissed her on the lips. He just settled for the forehead instead then he hugs her while patting her head. He whispered once again.

"Thank you"

The little flower happily showers in the rain filled with love.

<- Table of Contents Next ->

#soshiro fell in love at first sight #child soshiro is down bad for his fiancee #middle schooler soshiro is down bad for his fiancee #high schooler soshiro is a loser for his fiancee #pre-main story soshiro loves his fiancee #kaiju no.8 #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro x oc #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #soshiro hoshina x oc #yukikhun

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walkingzombiegirl · 6 months ago

Note

how about some sexually frustrated banter with hange, the only other titan scientist behind the walls who you're always competing with when it comes to your research?

or flirty ellie who always gets on your nerves but in reality she's just a big loser and a science geek and that actually makes her kinda hot...

oorrrr knight abby who is devoted to your protection and the kingdom's so that is why she has put up with that bratty attitude until one day she finally snaps and calls you a brat and suddenly you're all flustered and that was almost all it took to have you spread out beneath her with her head lost between your legs. she could stay there for hours and be satisfied with just that .

anyway i have a huge thing for enemies to lovers and banter idk what's wrong with me 😭😭

━ 𝙂𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧 𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 - ellie williams x fem!reader

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 - Ellie and you are opposites, causing a bit of bickering that never seems to end. But when she has to go to her room before Dina gets back to find her wallet, she drags you along. However, it takes a more fun turn that you would've ever thought possible. Especially since you fucking hate her.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - cursing, bitchy!reader, flirting, slight alludes to previous sexual encounter between them, alludes to having sex at the end, scandalous figurine

𝗲𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘀 - sorry i disappeared if you couldn't tell by how badly this was written i haven't been feeling the best and been stressed about college! Also I am planning on writing the other two... slow roll.

"Did you buy all of these?" You asked glancing around her decked out room, in awe at how many figurines she had around the place. Practically stacked full, wall to wall was gaming posters, ones of various rock bands, some shows and cartoons you didn't recognize. Between those was shelves of comic books, and an overly messy deck scattered with work and drawings she quickly covered up.

"Yeah, that's how shopping works."

You glared at her, looking around at the room some more before spotting another shelf that had more little people. You smiled, picking up a lady that was wearing a rather scandalous outfit.

You nearly let a laugh escape, twirling her around in your fingers, her dress the same color as your nails. At that, it was promptly snatched from your fingers. A scoff falling from your lips.

"What? I was just looking." But when your eyes met her freckled face you noticed a light coat of pink dusted her cheeks. Her eyes rocketing around the room like she'd been told there was someone ready to kill her inside. "Don't touch anything." "Alright, alright." You huffed, putting your hands up in faux submission.

"Can I at least sit somewhere while I wait for you to do whatever the fuck you dragged me in here to do?" You asked, Ellie immediatley giving a glare and then pointing at the mattress with a tight face. The little hot lady still in her hand.

You couldn't help yourself, you peered at her, squinting to see past her fingers. Once she realized, however, the little lady hurriedly went flying over her shoulder and knocked against the desk.

"Hey!" You plopped down on the bed, the springs squeaking under your weight. "I just wanted to see her." "It's none of your business just wait a minute for me."

You didn't respond, instead watching her ruffle around in the top drawer of her dresser. But you couldn't help yourself, you turned around to look at the photo board you seen when you walked in, all of Dina, Jesse, and others like Abby and Nora.

Boring... until, wait?

"Is that me?" You then broke the silence, scooting up the bed to see a photo of you and Dina on the beach from last summer. You were both grinning at the camera and holding up beers. "That's from the night we-" "Yes."

You peered back to her, green irises staring into your soul as you met her eyes.

"You're a freak." "You look hot in that picture." By the look on her face you were probably number three in the amount of total girls she'd said that to. To their faces anyway. "You are such a nerd." You whispered, staring at her with an almost freakishly large grin on your face.

"You are a bitch." She then replied, her expression mirroring your own. "Says the perv with a picture of me on your wall in a bikini. Creep." "Says little miss 'let me see your doll's tits, Ellie'." She spoke, but didn't seem annoyed, instead, almost intrigued as you responded, "You own the doll!"

"Not for those reasons!" She spat, laughing halfway through the sentence. "Are you sure you don't fuck the doll, Ellie?" "You wish I did, it'd be the closest you've gotten to me in months." You sneered at that, biting your lip.

"You're so full of yourself." Ellie rolled her eyes. "Whatever." "Whatever? God you irritate the fuck out of me." You exclaimed, running your hands down your face with a groan. "You're in my room." "You told me to just to go with you."

There was a pregnant pause before,

"Please tell me you jack to the photo." "No!" She stared at you, making a face. "No." "You do!" "So what you're not horrible to look at." You smirked up at her, shaking your head. "Perv." You hummed, her face inching closer to yours, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips before back up again.

"Whatever."

"Nuh uh, you don't get to do that." You said and reached forward grabbing her buckle, pulling her in. "You fucking freak." She just rolled her eyes, looking back at her bedroom door.

There was a silence that felt thick compared to the conversation just had, her head rolling back to face you.

"How long until Dina gets back?" She asked, eyes practically gouging into yours. Her stare had you squirming already.

"Long enough."

She nodded, looking again before at the alarm clock beside her bed.

"Do you-"

"Yes Ellie. Yes."

"Okay."

awkward ellie is more canon then sex god ellie and i stand by that

#ellie williams #tlou #the last of us #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams tlou #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader

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have-you-seen-my-sanity · 4 months ago

Text

Eclipse

Yandere Moon Knight System x fem!reader

A/n: This is quite long, so I am sorry if there are some errors I may have missed myself. :/

CW/Triggers: Slow burn, lewdness, kidnapping, obsessive and possessive behavior, stalking, mature themes, strong language, nsfw, m! masturbation, unhinged, alot of swearing.

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Ever since Steven talked to you at the Museum, he became infaturated by you. No matter how bitchy Donna was to him during his job, whenever he saw you it was as if all the tension and anger has left him.

It was Marc who discovered you were working at the coffee shop nearby of the museum while he was waiting for his coffee. When he told Steven about it, he couldn't believe his luck.

Today Steven was on his usual shift, selling made up Egyptian sweets and doing inventory here and there whenever Donna demanded it. The gift shop was pretty much empty, giving Steven some time to rest and let the other two front. Jake was currently fronting, casually messing up the sweets only to put them back into place because he was bored. For the next couple minutes no one came into the gift shop, Marc wanted to just go home, Jake was bored and Steven was tired. Jake finally heard some steps towards the shop, letting Steven front incase it was a customer. You came into their view, walking past the gift shop.

*Stevo! Your crush is here!*

Steven let out a huff at Jake's remark. "Jake please.."

*Hombre, come on, go get her.*

"I bet she already has a partner, Jake. Just look at her."

Marc felt the need to chime in. *Buddy, she's always alone. You have to take the chance before someone else does.*

Ever since Steven knew where you worked, he was actually thinking about it but he was scared you wouldn't accept or already have a partner. Steven didn't show it, but his mind was already imagining how it would be like to walk you home, especially at late or night shifts, to make sure you get home safe.

"But I can't, what if she doesn't want to?"

Steven sounded like he was about to give up but he knew Marc and Jake would help him as much as they can.

*Then let one of us ask her out and you go to the date.* Marc suggested.

Steven leaned against the counter. "Like the last date? At the Steakhouse?" he couldn't help but chuckle lowly at the thought.

Jake felt the need to interfere. *Steven, compadre, why don't we go to her and you ask her out, hm?*

Steven paused to think. On one hand, he was really tempted to just ask you out, on the other hand, he was a bit shy to do it, he was afraid you'd turn him down, or worse, think he's some kind of a weirdo. "Jake? Marc? But what if she already has a partner?"

*Buddy, like I said, she's always alone even when walking home. So the chance is not that high.* Marc replied.

Steven checked the clock, only 15 more minutes until his shift ends. "Fine, if she's still here when my shift ends, I'll try asking her."

Jake and Marc were satisfied with the answer and Steven remained fronting until his shift was over, he packed his bag and made his way out, keeping an eye out incase you'd still be in the museum. It was already getting dark outside, Steven hasn't seen you anywhere and assumed you're already gone. As he stepped out of the museum he looked at the coffee shop you were working close by the museum, and he had to look twice because he saw you leaving the place. His heartrate and breathing quickened just a tad bit at seeing you again.

Jake had an idea he just had to share with Steven. *Should we follow her just for a minute?*

"Whoa Jake, are you telling me to stalk her?"

Jake let out a wince. *Ehh, I wouldn't necessarily call it 'stalking'. Let's just say 'protection'.*

*But we better keep some distance, we wouldn't want to scare Steven's lovely crush.* Marc added with a slight teasing in his voice.

Steven sighed before he slowly started following you from a safe distance. "Both of you are crazy." he cursed under his breath. They noticed you were a bit distracted by your phone, so Steven found it easier to follow you without you noticing that fast.

*Gotta admit Steven, she's pretty.*

*Yes she is. See? It was a good idea to follow her, huh?*

Marc's and Jake's words somehow put Steven at ease. As Steven followed you, he couldn't help but appreciate the way you walked. He was feeling so confident right now that if someone decided to attack you, he'd beat the person up.

*You really got a big crush on her, do ya?* Marc said amused, teasingly even as if he noticed something Steven did not.

Steven bit his lower lip. "A bit. Yeah. A bit."

Jake's snort echoed through the headspace. *A bit? Hermano, your dick is about to burst out of your pants from that 'a bit'.*

Steven was confused for a second before looking down on himself, seeing the obvious bulge in his pants he somehow didn't notice before.

"Oh bollocks..." Steven cursed under his breath.

*Well, our dick wants attention if it catches something it likes, buddy.* came Marc's teasing remark.

*Come on, Stevo, let's head back before someone sees our uh, 'problem'...* Jake suggested but Steven didn't want to leave yet, he wanted to make sure you get home safe.

"No wait, she hasn't even made it home yet." he argued, continuing to follow you from a distance despite the raging hard-on between his legs. While walking, Steven bit his lip from time to time to suppress the urgent need growing stronger with every second he watches you walk. "Oh my god, I feel like a bloody pervert."

*Nah, it goes away.*

*Oohh, ladies man speaking up.*

"Guys you're not helpin'!" Steven whispered in harshly. He looked back at you, seeing you walking towards a house, assuming it was yours. "I think she's home now." but Steven couldn't wait until he made it back home, the need was too much for him so he decided to search for an alleyway to deal with his need. Steven quickly found one just across from your house, he got behind a dumpster but looked around to make sure he's safe to go with his handiwork.

*Don't tell me you're dealing with yourself here.* Marc questioned.

*He may even get a look on his crush from here.* Jake chimed in.

"Sorry guys, I jus' can't wait any longer..." he fumbled with his pants, pulling down just a bit to get his throbbing cock free. The tip was already leaking generously as he gave himself a few strokes with a shaky breath.

*Dios mios, Steven... she really did mess your head up, eh?*

"Yeah." Steven rasped, leaning back against the wall and stroking himself slowly as the pre-cum leaked down on the floor. He looked at your house, seeing the lights turned on inside a room at the second floor which he guessed was your room. He saw you walking past the window, causing him to pump his hand faster. "Fuckin' hell..." he closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall, imagining how he could just summon his suit to storm into your room and rail you senseless.

Of course Marc and Jake noticed the way Steven relaxed, they knew he must imagine something dirty right now.

*I bet he's thinking about fucking her right now.* Marc said, his voice was strained already.

*Can't blame him.* Jake added, his voice was equally strained as Marc's.

Steven opened his eyes, his breath was starting to quicken, his lips were parted as he listened to Marc and Jake. "Jesus, guys..." he groaned, but deep down, he knew they were right. He wanted to fuck you. He wanted to feel you pussy gripping his cock. He wanted to–

At one point you came to your window to close the curtains, Steven eyed the way you stretched your arms, imagining how they'd look out stretched in other ways...

He almost came at seeing you by the window, but he slowed down, edging himself because he didn't want it to end. Not while he's thinking about you.

*Imagine how good she'd look getting split open on our cock, Steven. Going to ruin her for every other guy.*

Marc's words made Steven's mind slowly but surely go into a more darker territory. He knew Marc can get possessive, Jake too, and Steven wasn't like this but something about you– it made him ignore it. He wanted you.

Steven couldn't help himself at the thought of finally having you, his breath was getting heavy as he rapidly pumped his fist and with a relieved moan, he spurted his cum on the dirty alley ground.

"Fuck." he breathed, relaxing back against the wall to catch his breath. After a moment of calming down, he tucked himself back in, checking if he was still alone before making his way out of the alley but not before glancing at your house one last time.

*And now? What if she does have a partner already?* Marc asked, genuinely curious what Steven will do since he just jacked off in that alley at the thought of you.

"I don't know mate, m-maybe just accept it?" Steven asked, he wasn't sure what he'll do. Overthinking the possibility of you having a potential partner made his mind snap further more into the darker area. He wasn't even sure if he could accept it. And now with the knowledge that Marc and Jake like you too, maybe even as much as Steven himself does, there is a chance they can make the situation get out of hand.

"But now you two like her too, yeah?" Steven asked, he started making his way back home.

*Now I do, Stevo. After what you just did, I like her.* Jake confirmed.

*She's so beautiful, Steven. How could I not like her?* Marc confirmed aswell.

Knowing Marc and Jake like you as equally as him, Steven feels bolder but his mind scratches the twisted path again because he, Marc and Jake can be difficult when they want to and if they set their mind on something, it's a serious challenge to tear them off their mindset.

While you were sleeping peacefully in your bed without a single concern of what happened just outside your house, Steven soon arrived home, his mind was pre occupied by you and so were Jake's and Marc's too. Even though Marc and Jake didn't really care about Steven's crush on you at first, they did snap now. Usually they would just mind their own business and let Steven deal with his partners but now? Now they want a piece of it.

Steven prepared for sleep, flopping down on his bed and pulling the covers up. When he closed his eyes all he could see was you, just you. It drove him nuts, but he managed to sleep for some hours. He woke up with a start in the middle of the night, he catched his breath, rolling over to check the time, it was 4 am.

"Can't even bloody sleep." He mumbled, grabbing his pillow and put it on his face.

*It's because of her, isn't it?* Marc asked.

"Bingo." Steven mumbled into the pillow, sounding defeated.

*Why don't we pay a visit tonight? Nothing much, just a little peek and then we leave?* Jake suggested.

"You mean breaking in? If Khonshu finds out about that..." Steven trailed off, raising the pillow from his face, throwing it to the side and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

*Come on, Khonshu isn't even playing by the rules either. Besides that fucking bird won't give a shit about what we do with our suits.* Jake countered, he especially knew Khonshu would let them do nearly anything if it doesn't involve hurting or killing innocent people.

Steven sat up, running a hand through his messed hair. "A'ight, but we will do it after work, yeah?" he popped his shoulders, getting up to start with his restless day.

-----------------------------

"Dios, Steven, how can you get along with your bitchy boss Donna? This puta is a kick to the balls." Jake complained while walking out of the museum after a long day of Donna's non stop nagging, complaining and shooing them around.

*Well I dunno either, bruv. I hope one day she chokes on her bloody gum.*

Jake surrendered the body to Steven, wanting nothing more than taking a mental seat to calm down from all of Donna's bullshit. Steven had mentally mapped out the way to your house since last night's adventures outside of it. It was already late, Steven figured you must be asleep by now. His thoughts were right as they arrived at your house, seeing the complete darkness through its windows. Steven stopped infront of your front door, trying the handle to see if it's magically unlocked by some luck.

"Are we goin' to use our suit?"

Marc was quick to answer. *No, we break in the classic way. We don't want to destroy half her house with the suit.*

Steven nodded, letting Marc front who reached inside his pocket, pulling out a blank credit card and slid it between the door slit and the lock. The second the lock gave in and the door opened with a creak, Marc prayed you didn't have a security system or some aggressive guard dog who's just waiting to attack them. Luckily, no alarm, no foaming guard dog, only silence and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall in the hallway.

Marc stealthily creeped through the narrow hallway, stopping on the way to look around your living room before carefully moving on.

*Marc there's a staircase.* Steven pointed out making Marc look ahead and spotting the darkened staircase leading to the second floor. He took one step at a time, letting out silent breaths as some stairs creaked. After what felt like an eternity, Marc arrived at the second floor, spotting three rooms, figuring out which one is your main bedroom.

*Oi, the last door, mate.*

Marc saw the door being ajar, he sneaked towards the room, feeling the doubt rising up at this room being yours but he made his way over just incase. He pushed the door fully open, peeking inside, seeing the white tiles. It was the bathroom. A whiff of your shampoo entered his nose, the smell still lingering in the air. Marc had to stop himself from taking a deep breath to inhale the fresh smell. "It's just her bathroom." he stammered.

Marc was about to turn away but Steven stopped him.

*Wait.*

Marc stopped in his tracks. "What?"

*You think what I'm thinkin'?*

In confusion Marc's eyes roamed the bathroom, landing on the small amount of laundry in the corner. "You mean–?"

*Hell yeah bruv.*

Surrendering to Steven's silent demand, Marc entered the bathroom, closing the door and reached into the small pile. "For fuck's sake, Steven..." he murmured, pulling out one of your panties, feeling his dick growing hard in his pants.

*Come on man, just a little smell.* Jake encouraged, his tone sounding needy.

Marc pulled your panties close to his nose, already smelling your scent, savoring it as his hand snaked down on himself, rubbing his throbbing cock through his pants. "Ah fuck, she smells so sweet..." he ran his nose along the part of your panties that touched your core, inhaling deeply. Your sweet scent invading his nose, his hand quickly unzipping his pants, eagerly reaching inside to pull his needy cock out which was already starting to leak pre-cum from their lewd actions. "Shit, I can't wait to finally–" he didn't even finish his sentance, your smell mixed with the shampoo still in the air was driving him insane, he started fucking his fist, tightening it around his shaft, imagining it being your pussy gripping him, how much of a moaning mess they could turn you into if they wanted.

Just like Steven, Marc had lost his sense for right or wrong too. Marc had always been the more radical thinking one but his morale and semi-sane mind held him back to do something disastrous, but now he didn't care. All he could focus on rightnow is fucking his hand, getting all sorts of dirty scenarios in his now-fucked-up mind.

*Bloody hell Marc, you're making a fuckin' mess on the tiles.*

Steven's words snapped Marc out of his horny-trance, he looked down, seeing the drops of precum staining the floor. Marc couldn't care less about them rightnow but he reached for a nearby box of tissues to wipe the stains off the floor. "There, happy?" he rasped, resuming his handiwork on himself. "Fuck, Steven, what mess did you get us into..." he sighed in delight.

*Wasn't me, mate. It was all her. She's the reason we empty our balls inside her house while she bloody sleeps.*

*Ay Marc, keep the fuck going.* Jake slurred out from the neediness.

As Marc felt his orgasm build up, he could feel a wave of possessiveness wash over him. He knew it was wrong but you simply had your beautiful way messing with their already unstable minds, even if you just as much walked past them in public. In Marc's head, if you had a boyfriend, he'd be sure Jake and he himself couldn't stop themselves from making him disappear from your life.

Marc fucked his fist faster, wanting nothing more than to bury himself balls deep into you. "Guys, if she'd be here rightnow, I don't know if I could control myself..." his movements became erratic, his breathing heavy as he chased his release.

*You'd jump her? Like I would too, yeah?* Steven's voice had that mix of darkness and determination.

Marc couldn't hold himself back any longer. "Yeah, I would–" his breath came out in short gasps, he reached out to tear out a tissue from the nearby box, holding it infront of his cockhead. "I– a-ahh, f-fuck!" he spilled his cum into the tissue with a deep throaty groan, slumping back against the wall. After a minute of calming down, Marc cleaned up any evidence of their sins in there and placed your panties they smelled on back under the small pile of your laundry.

Marc let Steven front, who quickly left the bathroom, checking the middle room. He slowly and carefully opened the door, feeling a slight chill hit him as he looked inside, seeing just an empty bed with some furniture.

*Just a spare bedroom, her room must be the next one.* Marc stated.

Steven reached the third room, pressing his ear against the door to listen for any sounds. When he heard none, he carefully opened the door, the welcoming air with the smell of your shampoo invaded his senses, he couldn't help but take it in. "Look at this sleeping beauty." Steven murmured silently under his breath as his eyes finally landed on your sleeping form, securely tucked away in the safety of your bed. He approached slowly, kneeling down at your bedside, resisting the itch to reach out and touch your soft skin.

*She's such a beauty.* Jake murmured affectionately in their headspace.

*I bet her skin feels like silk.* Marc sounded so at peace.

"I want to lay next to her, take her into my arms..." Steven sighed dreamily, reaching out to ghost his fingers over your blanket-covered shoulder, stopping just at the edge of it, threatening to touch your soft skin.

*Oh you will Steven. You will.* Jake's tone had a dark edge to it. Steven wanted to question him but he just pushed it aside.

*We could try getting her phone number.* Marc suggested.

Your phone laid on the bedside table, Steven grabbed it, turned on the small light and unlocked it with your face ID, grinning internally at how easy you unknowingly made it for them. He quickly found out your number and wrote it down, not bothering to just put your phone back down without looking through it, he didn't wanted to be nosy, and although you managed to turn all their heads upside down they still respected your privacy. But it was tempting nontheless.

He tucked the piece of paper with your number on it into his pocket, his fingers almost moved on their own to touch your hair but Steven held himself together, instead lightly grazing your all too soft hair with the tip of his fingers, wanting nothing more than to run them through your hair and bury his face into them.

"Her hair is so soft. So goddamn soft..." he whispered silently. He realized they already stayed way longer than they intented, so Steven reluctantly straightened up, retreating out of your room and softly closing the door behind himself, leaving you asleep without even a hint of what happened inside your house that night.

-----------------------------

Back at their home, Steven was still awake, laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He was still feeling so energized, like he could make a run around the blog without breaking a sweat. But instead, he just went for his rubix cube, trying to tire himself with it by solving it easily, messing it up, throwing and catching it but it only served to get sucked deeper into thought.

"Guys?" he asked silently, catching the cube.

*Something's on your mind, isn't it?* Marc questioned, he already knew Steven had something to think about because of how in thought he looked like while trying to tire himself out.

"We're fuckin' insane..." Steven breathed out.

*You've noticed?* Marc asked amused.

"No no no, not like that... I'm talking about her..."

*Let me guess, you keep thinking about her?*

"Yeah..."

*I think it calms you when I say Jake and I do too.* Marc admitted. He and Jake just kept it quiet, they didn't know Steven was like that too, and he also knew they could do something pretty fucked up when all three of them share the same opinion.

Steven put the cube aside. "But you know what that could mean, yeah?"

*Yeah.*

Steven sat up against the headboard and stretched his legs, grabbing the rubix cube again. "And now that we have her phone number..." he messed the cube up again, solving it quickly.

*You wanna call her?* Marc asked surprised.

"I can't help it, wanna hear her voice."

Before they could discuss any further a black fog suddenly appeared in the middle of the room and Khonshu materialized out of it.

"Jake Lockley." the god demanded.

"Steven here, mate..." Steven gave him a tired and annoyed look.

"Steven Grant." Khonshu corrected himself. "I need you tonight. Some scum needs to be cleaned up."

"Aye-aye, Khonshu..." Steven gave a weak mock salute, already being pissed they had to do some work for that pigeon again.

Satisfied with the answer, Khonshu disappeared as quick as he came with a grumble.

*Steven you should better get some sleep.* Marc said since it was still in the middle of the night.

Steven nodded, placing the cube back on the bedside table and got under the covers. He eventually fell asleep and woke up in the morning, feeling oddly refreshed and ready for the day. Steven got up and headed to work. On his way while sipping on his coffee, he saw you entering the coffee shop, it caused his breath to hitch a little at seeing you. He would do anything right now to just talk to you, hell even eye contact with your beautiful eyes would be enough for him.

Walking past you workplace, he got a good look inside through the glass and something caught his eyes. You talking to a guy, smiling and laughing. Steven's grip on his thermos instantly tightened and his blood began to boil.

You shouldn't be supposed laughing to this guy. You should be supposed laughing with them, smiling at them, looking at them.

Jake and Marc obviously were no fools, they quickly catched on how Steven was acting. *Wow, calm down buddy, that's possibly just her co worker.*

"You're right." Steven muttered under his breath, heading inside the museum. He spotted Donna chewing on her stupid gum, already making his way over to him.

"Stevey, lucky you doin the inventory for the rest of the week." She announced, chewing annoyingly noisy on her gum.

"Very lucky indeed..." Steven mumbled sarcastically. "A'ight." he gave her a small forced smile, he was just glad to walk away from her and do the inventory alone for some peace.

His shift passed surprisingly quick, he was alone the whole day so that was a huge plus for him and his nerves. At leaving the museum he let Jake front for the duty Khonshu gave them. Steven was too tired to do it, Marc just didn't want to do it but Jake was always there if he gets to kill some scum.

-----------------------------

Jake finished the job efficiently and quick. He chose to use the white limousine for the job, there was some blood on the hood but Jake didn't care, he'd clean it up the next day or simply drive into a car wash. But right now he had other plans.

Meanwhile, you just got out of your routine shower, drying off your hair as suddenly your phone began ringing.

Unknown caller

You answered anyway just to be sure. "Hello?"

"Ah hello, doll."

Thinking it had just been someone who dialed the wrong number, you didn't think much of it. "Did you call the wrong number?"

"No. Not at all, princesa."

Jake was leaning against the house opposite from yours, wiping some blood off his cheek he didn't knew he had from one of those scumbags he killed.

You narrowed your eyes. "Uh, seems like it, why else would you call me?"

"I just wanted to hear your voice, sweetheart. Is it a crime?" Jake asked with a smile, tilting his head to the side, making it so that you could literally hear it through your phone.

"Look, if this is some kind of a prank-"

Jake chuckled. "Come on doll, don't be silly, I just wanted to hear your voice that's all."

You got sick of this. "Well you've heard my voice. Bye." just like that, you hung up, blocking the number in the process.

*Aww, she has such a cute voice.* Steven sighed contendly.

"Gotta say, she's really cute when acting all tough." Jake smirked, getting back inside the limo.

Meanwhile after you hung up, you made your way over to your window, peeking outside but seeing nothing except a white limousine with what looked like a dark substance on its hood driving away. While the call gave you some creeps you headed for sleep anyway, in which you fell asleep soundly without any further thoughts.

*We can't get her out of our head, it's like she cursed us or something.* Marc said as Steven took over the body.

"She did Marc, she did. With her angelic beauty." Steven replied, he made his way to Gus' tank, feeding him and watching him swim.

*Stevo, since we are all going crazy on her why don't we... take it a step further?* Jake asked slowly, with a hint of determination.

Steven looked back to the mirror, seeing Jake look back at him with a slow smirk forming on his face.

Steven's thoughts went into the dark area again, he knew all of them were already too far into the mess.

"What's your plan?" Steven asked.

*Simple. We bring her here.* Jake shrugged.

They knew it was wrong, but you unknowingly made their minds snap in the worst way possible.

*But we gotta prepare everything. We wouldn't want her escaping.* Marc said.

Steven thought for a second. "We could just lock the door from outside?"

Marc nodded. *Yes but maybe make sure she won't even reach the door, you know?*

Jake clapped his hands together. *Handcuffs. To the bed.*

Marc, Steven and Jake agreed on their plan and started preparing. Shortly after they went to sleep, and for some reason tonight they slept peacefully, no waking up, no nothing. When they woke up the next day, Steven had the body for the most, only letting Marc and Jake front after he was done with his shift. When they got back home, Marc took the body and arranged everything they needed, then when it finally got dark outside, Jake got the body.

Jake dressed in his usual business attire, he got into the white limousine and drove to your place, knowing you'd be asleep already. Marc was fronting to enter and sneak through your house again, stopping infront of your bedroom door to let Jake front. Jake slid his leather gloves on, whistling softly.

*Bruv, you're acting like a bloody maniac with that.* Steven chimed in.

"No amigo, I am kidnapping her." Jake grinned, adjusting his hat. He opened the door silently, slowly stalking towards your sleeping form. Jake reached into his pocket, pulling out the cloth with the sedatives. He kneeled down at your bedside, admiring your beautiful sleeping features. He softly stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, not worrying you could wake up from that.

"You'll be ours, princess." he whispered softly. Jake noticed you stirring, so he made quick actions, pressing one hand down on your eyes so you couldn't see and pressed the other with the cloth on your mouth and nose. Of course you started to get scared, you tried yanking his hands off, trying to wiggle free but Jake didn't had to use much of his strength to keep you down. It only served to make them snap even further if that was even possible because they knew how fragile you were and how weak you were compared to them. And they loved it. Jake leaned close to your ear as you were getting weaker with every second.

"Shhh, hora de la siesta, princesa."

-----------------------------

It was absolutely no struggle to get you back to Steven's place, you were so delicate and pretty in their arms. Jake still had to clean off the blood on the hood of the limousine, so they laid you down on the bed in a spare bedroom, cuffing one of your wrists to the headboard.

You got brought back to consciousness some time later feeling lightheaded. You felt the handcuffs slightly scraping against your skin as you just realized you've been kidnapped.

"No... no no no..." you let out a whine, not even knowing what is going to happen to you but you suited yourself for the worst.

You tried tugging hard on the cuffs, but they were too strong to simply break. You started panicing, looking around for anything to get those cuffs off.

Sudden heavy steps echoed outside of the room, you stopped all movements. A whistle could be heard getting louder, along with the footsteps approaching the door. Your breath hitched and your heart went into your throat as the door finally opened. The person stepped inside, the shadows were hiding his face.

"Hola princesa, I assume your nap was good?"

*She looks so scared. So cute.* Marc spoke up in the headspace.

You pressed yourself up against the headboard. "Please, I-I have money..." your voice was trembling in fear. It was all you could come up with in your paniced state.

Jake snorted. "Tch, you seriously think we're after your money?" he couldn't help but grin.

"Then why am I here?"

"You haven't noticed a single thing, eh?" Jake chuckled. "How we were following you home," he started walking closer "how we broke into your house more than once..."

Your heart was beating like a drum in your chest. Jake kneeled down at the bedside.

"You're such an innocent angle, mi amor..." he reached out with his gloved hand to stroke your cheek, the cold leather did only a small fraction to cool down your skin.

"Please don't hurt me." you whispered.

"Oh no, we would never dream of hurting a flower like you. If you disobey however, there will be some consequenses." Jake had silently let Marc out, you noticed a chance in his accent.

You shook your head frantically, afraid of disobeying. "N-no, no. I promise I won't."

Marc was satisfied with your answer. "That's our good girl. See, you're starting to learn."

Just like Jake, Marc had surrendered the body to Steven, who just couldn't wait to get his hands on you. He removed the gloves and ran his fingers through your hair. The way his fingers scraped against your scalp made you almost forget you were kidnapped by them.

"Tell you what, dove. 'f you promise to stay put, I'll remove the cuffs, yeah?"

You nodded.

Steven got the key out and removed the cuffs, rubbing the sore skin gently. He sat down on the edge of the bed, putting the cuffs away and turning to you.

"C'mere, love." He reached out for you, you were about to scoot away but Steven ignored it and grabbed you anyway, pulling you into his arms.

He couldn't believe how soft you felt, as if you were made to fit straight into their arms. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you against his side.

"Don't be scared love, we will take care of you. You're ours now."

Steven, Marc and Jake were all so happy now that you're finally theirs. No one will take you away from them, you're staying with them. Forever.

#moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #yandere marc spector #yandere steven grant #yandere jake lockley #yandere moonknight #dark!steven grant #dark!marc spector #dark!jake lockley

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fabricated-misslieness · 1 year ago

Text

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: prince alhaitham x knight male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: settling into your new duty

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.34k ~ PT.1 ~ PT.3

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: sword training, incredibly minor injury, classism, mention of civil war

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Sumeru is a kingdom of knowledge, the wisest, most strategic of all. Yet they had not foreseen the kidnapping of the Crown Prince, much less by a dragon.

Azar, the king of the nation, is a man that takes pride in his intelligence. He knows of risks and consequences as much as he does of rewards and outcomes—he uses this as his stake in the world of Teyvat. His immense knowledge and the expanse of his land strike fear in the other kingdoms, despite his nation's sworn neutrality. These aspects of his make him the most admired man in Sumeru.

At least, that is what the common folk think.

At first, the King did not seem to have noticed his adoptive son was taken; or at the very least, he didn't care.

The Crown Prince was a clever man himself. Ever since he was young, he had an insatiable thirst for knowledge. As he grew into his adulthood, his collection did not satisfy him still, even if he has shown that he is already smart enough to take his father's place.

Perhaps Azar saw him as a threat to his throne. The dragon was actually doing him a favor. Why did he need to undo a deed so convenient?

But his Queen begged him, and eventually he gave in. He could not have her daily weeping stain their reputation.

He sent you. Your men lacked experience, and you, among the rest of the war generals, were the only knight of low blood.

It was clear that he intended to rid himself of you. When the news that you had failed would eventually reach the castle, he would cradle his wife in his arms and tell her he had tried.

But then you were back, the beloved Crown Prince in your arms, and he was displeased.

The Queen wept, finally, out of joy.

It was she who bestowed upon you the great honor of being Alhaitham's Knight, his alone, and you should be grateful for it.

In her eyes, you should be grateful. In your comrades' eyes, you should not. You were to be ripped away from your beloved peers, all to protect the Prince you had already saved once.

You know you should agree with your comrades, and yet there is something inside of you that thinks otherwise...

☾⋆☆⋆☽

There was an oath.

You had promised many things, kneeled with your head pointed down to his feet. He stood in front of you, in his golden gown, with the most blessed waters from the churning river of the Asavan Realm in his hand. He poured this water onto your head as you spoke the words.

The water that streaked down your bloodied helmet and armor pooled red around his feet, as if the very words you spoke dripped down your body.

"I am your shield," You had said almost mechanically, "the blows upon your body will not be yours, but mine. I am your sword," You stared at his bare feet—even as he stood in the bloodied water he did not flinch, as though he too took the oath from you himself. "where you point, I will strike."

"I will serve and protect you as your Knight," You had said, then, with great conviction, a surge of emotion in your body you couldn't quite point an origin to, and said, "I am yours."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

What did Alhaitham need from a knight?

He was very thankful for what you had done for him–it was the first time in his life that he had thanked a knight, much less a low blood–but it did not mean he required his protection.

He did not need his shield, who would dare to strike him? He did not need his sword, who would he seek to harm?

He did not need you at all.

He didn't need you stalking behind him, every step he took mirrored by your feet, he would much rather you stayed behind. You were not allowed even to do that, it seemed. The oath was meticulous, your sense of obligation towards it even more so.

Yet, as he turned around to shout a command to keep you away, he could not.

How could he, the Crown Prince, not tell a simple command? He had done it all his life, to servants, to knights, to nobles.

And there you stood behind him, your steps stopping suddenly, your face turning startled as you had almost ran into him.

You were just serving your oath. You were just protecting him.

He turned back around and continued on without a word.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

The first night you turned him in for bed, bowed your head as you closed the doors, you didn't know what to feel.

But then, you had your first meal. It was big and hearty, nothing you'd ever eaten before. It felt like a King's feast: an entire roasted pig on a platter of lettuce, a basket of all assortments of bread, a big bowl of steaming rice, another platter of smoked brisket ready for the taking. All of this encompassed in one plate. You could enjoy this.

Then, when the servants redirected you to your new chambers, you got a room. Your own room, for the first time, in the royal chambers wing.

The moment you collapsed on the bed you let out a big sigh—heaven must feel like this.

For the first week, you are satisfied. You finally get to rest.

Then the second week comes, and you miss your brotherhood. The Prince is not a good companion. He does not speak to you nor address you, but you know he does care for your presence when you find him staring at you during conversations he does not quite care for.

His gaze is judging, then. At least you think so.

His eyes drag boredly over the expanse of your armor, like a foe on the other side of the battlefield looking for a chink in your armor, something to take advantage of.

Most of the time he finds nothing. Most of the time, he brings his eyes back to the person opposite him within the minute.

And that is that.

No non-noble knight nor servant was allowed to voice their opinion to royal blood; if they came to be in that position of lowly work, how could their opinion matter?

They were only allowed during open discussion, and even then, most brushed off their ridiculous notions.

Generals could, but you were no longer a general.

So you are silent, and so too is he. Most days he would be fine with this silence. Today he is not.

"You are just going to watch me read?" He had asked, a book poised over his lap. It was fiction. Scholars would be baffled by the choice, what need would the Prince fulfill with fiction? But he knew you were not going to say anything.

"Yes." It is simple. You are supposed to be simple.

"You may go."

"What?" Emotion, no longer simple. He had caught you off-guard, and now you were questioning his command.

He was merciful anyway, "Leave."

So you often spent afternoons in the middle of the week, when he was without duty and reading for leisure, with your comrades. Training, for there was nothing to do with the Prince that would keep your muscles built as they were supposed to be, and also, due to your time together, you had begun to crave the grueling hours of hard work. These hours were your respite.

Sometimes he came to watch. You found him in the corner of your eye. He though he was being sneaky.

He does not stare at you the same way he does when conversation no longer draws his attention. He stares at you with, what is it, entertainment?

You don't speak of it to him.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

One afternoon, he does not let you go.

He has to begun to be more tender with you. He's increased a lot of things as of late: his eyes flitting over to meet yours, his visits to your training sessions, greeting goodmorning and bidding goodnight. They are subtle, but welcome.

Today, he has given you the honor of sitting beside him. He is not holding a book. You think that perhaps today the focus of his leisure will be you. You are right.

"What's your name?" It hadn't occurred to you that he didn't know it.

"(y/n)." You had said then, and it was simple.

In Sumeru, a servant does not speak the words "I have something to say.", what would a master care for what a servant had to say? They say, instead, "I have something to report.", then it is something important.

"You might have not seen me, but I watch you train." You've noticed, and you find yourself working harder when he is there. "You seem happy then, should you not be strained?"

You have to tread on your words lightly. "Being with you, your highness...my duty has just been to follow you around, for now. It is not enough exercise."

The Prince's nose scrunches up and for a moment you think you've offended him. "You wish to exercise?"

"It is...a change of pace."

"Right..." He hums, his gaze fluttering away. "Well, I'll see if I can arrange something."

He does not. Perhaps his mother said no. She and his father were the only ones he could not object to; his father by hierarchy, and his mother by respect.

The next afternoon, again, you sit at his side. Today, he is admiring your sword.

"This is the one that cut down the dragon?" He asks, running his fingers over the blade.

"Yes, your highness." You nod. In a rise of panic, you forget that he is supposed to know certain precautions himself. "Be careful, your–!"

If he hadn't pricked his finger as he did, you would've been punished.

The blade falls harmlessly over his lap. He stared at his finger like he had never felt pain before, his eyebrows furrowed. You take his hand over your palm and examine the wound. It is akin to pricking one's finger on a needle, if not deeper. It is nothing serious.

He knows this, knows that the pain is lesser than that of an injury caused by even a paper, and yet he lets you examine it.

Touching a royal blood without explicit consent is punishable. He does not mention it.

"I should've been more careful," He speaks the words he sees so clearly at the forefront of your mind, "it's fine. I'm fine."

"Of course." You take away your hand, and for a moment he finds himself missing the cold steel of your armor.

He clears his throat and offers the blade back, "What do you think of your sword?"

It's a peculiar question. Swords were just tools to kill with, nothing more. Especially not for a low blood. This blade was standard, your fellows had the same blade. But it was different, you suppose.

The leather of the handle is frayed, the pommel flattened, and the edges of the sword sharper. It looks used, it looks yours.

"It has grown old." You sheath it away. "Its whistle is not as sharp, it does not cut the air as it had once did. But it has served me well."

To think an object ages...yes, he has seen it. He sees that some books' pages are light, and others are dark as if coffee-stained. But a sword? "And your armor?" He asks curiously, "Has it grown old as well?"

"Well," You flex the plates over your fingers, "there is dust and dirt in the cracks, and it feels tighter than it had once been, but that is just me growing."

So the armor wasn't old, but you were? You were hardly a couple years older than he, and yet...yes, he sees it. He sees the way you are aged by battle. What battle? The failed civil war inspired by "king" Deshret, perhaps. But you must have been fourteen when you fought it.

"Did you fight in the civil war?"

"Yes." A nod.

"Do you wear this same armor?"

"No." You let your hand fall over the center of your chest. "But I wear the same chainmail." You remember how it had felt when you were young, slipping past your wrists. You had bound the excess higher with leather. It made your gloves fit tighter.

"How many years did you fight?"

"Two. I was thirteen my first battle."

So he was wrong. He rarely ever was wrong. It didn't taste bitter on his tongue like most wrongs he'd spoken. It tasted like revelation.

"Thirteen?" He asks, his eyebrows raised.

"Yes, your highness." You say it like it is nothing.

"Open discussion." He declares. You did not need to reply anymore, you could speak unprompted.

"Some of my comrades were twelve." You let your hand slide down your leg, the glove feels heavy over your knee. "Most of them died their first battle, others their second. I was among the youngest to survive that first year."

He asked many questions after that, and you answered truthfully. He asked about the battlefield, the civil war, your encampment, and many more things you had to dig your mind for. Despite it being open discussion, he did not leave you time to talk more after the question was answered.

Perhaps you had grown tired of it, because you asked, "Why are you so interested, your highness?"

He paused. You had taken him off guard, "Well..."

He was curious. Why was he so curious? You were a low blood knight, akin to a servant. The peculiarities you held were merely your battle prowess and the fact you defeated a dragon, and he already knew these things. What more would he need to know?

He was curious for the first time about a knight, for you weren't a remarkable nor infuriating scholar or servant, but a simple knight.

"I am simply curious." He replied, then, because he did not have an answer.

You couldn't ask him for a better one.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Today there is no time for leisure, only appearances. You trailed behind him in the city whilst he showed his face. It was meant to demonstrate that the royals were not so out of touch; the Prince had always thought it foolish.

Especially hauling a knight around behind him and not even talking to him.

You've long since gotten used to it, so the conversation of the last two days and his apparent need for another today was quite the challenge.

Don't speak out of line, don't speak unprompted, don't offend, don't speak too much.

"What do you think of this?" He asked, holding up one of the traveling merchant's wares, a model of a Liyuan dancer carved from wood.

An opinion. He was asking you for an opinion. No one but your fellows did so. You clear your throat to dismiss your surprise, "It is good, you can see the subject clearly. However, the carving is not smooth."

He nods his head and sets the sculpture down. "Then, which would you pick?"

Just a small look at each of the sculptures and you shook your head, "I would not."

"Why is that?" He furrows his brows, he hadn't expected that.

"None of the carving is smooth. There are edges you could cut yourself with." The Prince rolls his eyes, he thinks you're only fearing for his safety, but you continue, "It does not make for an appealing sculpture. It looks like it was carved with a butcher's knife."

The Prince laughs then. You'd heard it before, but this time it sounds different. It sounds pleasant, and dare you say more genuine.

"Right," He smiles at you. It's rare and all the more beautiful. "a Sumeru carpenter is better, then?"

"I believe so, your highness."

He nodded at this and moved on. He seemed appreciative of your opinion. A first for you, coming from a noble blood. It felt, for a lack of better word, refreshing.

He asks you again for your opinion at different merchant stalls. He asks you about the quality of this embroidered fabric, your opinion on pig's blood–you've never had it before, to his dismay–and even simpler, about the color green.

All these opinion had affected his choices.

When you came upon another carpenter, this one unequivocally Sumeru, he had not asked you about a single sculpture specifically, as he had done with other merchants' wares. Instead, he waved his hand in front of the display and asked, "Which one do you like?"

It wasn't "which one do you find most appealing", then it would've been an opinion for him to take into account. He asked it like it was definitive.

"That one." You pointed at the sculpture of a tree, a mere weeping willow. It reminds you of the myth of Irminsul, but that is not why you chose it. The leaves remind you of the color of his iris; the orange shading of the bark, the ring around his pupil; and the gray-lilac of its flowers, the silver of his hair.

He does not question you, only shoots a smile at the vendor, completes the transaction and moves on.

It was strange, the way your opinions mattered to him, for all the reasons given before. It might've made your peers feel powerful, even, that they had so much sway over a royal blood's decisions, much less the Crown Prince. But to you, it only felt...like you were seen, in a way. That you mattered.

You did matter, in situations such as battle and the war table; but you never mattered in the smaller things, like what color pleased you.

He seemed to think otherwise.

When you returned, that same day, to the castle, it was already evening. Dinner, however, is not served yet, so again you are left to your leisure.

The Prince considers the objects he has bought. His father does not like him to keep them—they are made less than skillfully in his eyes, by low-blood hands and low-blood artisans. He buys them only for show, because, again, that is what his father wishes. The King does not make appearances himself.

The Prince never really thought it a waste. It was just the way things were, much the same as the world created rain only to dump it over barren soils.

However, as he held these objects in his hands, he thought it was a waste; not of material, but of your opinion. The sculpture, most of all, as you had picked it out of desire.

He gives the servant that greets you at the door most of the things he's bought, then turns to you with the sculpture.

His hand extends it to you. For a moment, you are too dumbfounded to realize he is offering it to you. "My Prince, I–"

"Take it." He only says, his arm still extended; neither does he mention the way you call him yours.

For the first time since you were declared a war general, there is sheepishness in your gestures as you take the sculpture. "..thank you."

It is not in his blood, even less in his title, to say the following words, "You're welcome."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

He stood a little closer today whilst you trained, even more when you beckoned him closer. It drove your fellow knights away, fearful of the Prince's gaze, but you didn't mind it. Perhaps you should've. It was because of him that you missed a chance to reconnect with them since last week, after all; but he was merely curious.

His curiosity about you was also curious. You couldn't quite put your finger on why he was so interested.

Except you could. You had saved him from a dragon. That is enough.

Although you knew the King and the Queen both were each inquisitive in their nature, they were hardly ever curious about their servants and their knights. With how alike the Crown Prince was to them, you would've imagined him to be the same way. He had been the same way in the beginning. Something sparked a change.

You don't find yourself worrying about it, not now.

Instead, you worry about your stance. You worry about the way your sword strikes the dummy and you worry about the way your feet strike the muddy ground.

Most of all, you worry about not making yourself a fool—or...

Is it that that you worry about, or is it about making an impression? Impressing him?

In your distraction, you make a mistake. You swing down your sword, and it does not quite sever the dummy's stuffed, fabric arm. You click your tongue and dislodge the blade, about to strike the dummy again when he speaks.

"You said your sword was old?" He phrases it as a question, but he continues as if it wasn't. "Why not replace it?"

"It works the same." You reply, in the next moment, severing the fabric arm entirely.

His voice cuts through the sound of your efforts, "The frayed handle is not hard to hold?"

"Perhaps." A frustrated grunt.

"And the pommel doesn't affect the weight of the swing?"

"It does." Another.

"And yet you keep it." This statement has you stopping.

It has you turning around to face him, balancing the sword in your hands so as to show him each aspect, regardless of the fact he has examined it before. "The other men believe it is luck to keep the same items. I do not know if it is true; my men wore old armor and wielded old swords when they were melted down by dragon's breath. What I do know that my blade holds is sentiment. It holds memories. I did not wield this blade during the civil war–those are bad memories–but I have wielded it during moments of hardship, and most of all during moments of victory. Killing the dragon, for one."

It was not open discussion. He hadn't declared it, and neither had he asked you a question. You weren't supposed to give an answer.

He seems shocked, not at the unprompted rant, but at your words. "...yes."

It had not occurred to him that the age of things was good, nor that it might hold sentimental value. The tunics he wears this month are not the same as the last. The tunic he will wear for this year's Enlightenment Festival will not be the same tunic as the one of the year before. His plate is not the same each dinner, and his utensils neither.

Nothing in his life has been the same, permanent. Everything changes. He had never thought it a bad thing, not until now.

Your breathing steadies, the frustration fades. You speak your apologies, kneeled with your head pointed down to his feet, the pose of a beggar, the pose of an oath-taker. "I'm sorry, your highness. I did not mean to speak out of line, I only–"

"Haitham." He replied.

His name? You knew his name. You keep your gaze on his feet, "Prince Alhaitham, I greatly apologize–"

"Haitham." He repeats. Not Prince Haitham, not Alhaitham. Just Haitham, no respect to the name, no "Al", no title. Just Haitham.

You don't know what to say.

"Lift your gaze, (y/n)." He speaks your name...tenderly. Full of apprehension, you obey, looking into his green irises and red-rimmed pupils. When you meet his eyes, you see that he looks down at you not with anger, but with sympathy. "Speak my name. No apology."

"Haitham." You say. It feels strange on your tongue: titleless, respectless.

He smiles. It is a tiny thing, but it is directed to you. "I forgive you." He offers yet another mercy, "You don't have to impress me, even though I know you will continue to, subconsciously."

He was right, but it eased your nerves a bit.

You turn around and continue to train. Your sword whistles in the air, now, with ease; creating a song he quite enjoyed. The uninterrupted harmony created by metal as it thrummed with each coordinated swing of the sword felt akin to the pieces he played during his harpsichord lessons, though the playing of the instrument seemed much more mundane in comparison to this.

It was much more than music too, it was a dance. The step of your foot with each lunge and each strike–recovering from the strength required for each swing and simultaneously gathering more strength–seemed to take as much grace and effort as a ballerina.

There was beauty in this, beauty in the skill to slaughter, ignoring the reason for which to know it.

"My Knight," He speaks not your name, but to be his is still a special condition that sparks emotion, "what do you say I follow you around tomorrow?"

The excitement created by the way he addressed you turned into confusion. "I beg your pardon?"

Alhaitham shakes his head with a smile, "Open discussion."

"Why do you need to see what I do on the daily, your highness?" After all, your routine was hardly important. No one would ever ask such a question of a knight nor a servant.

"I am merely curious."

He was always curious as of late, mainly about you. It was starting to seem normal now. "My routine...my duty is to be your protector, your highness." You press your lips into a pitiful line, "I do not have anything outside of that."

He frowned. It was true, and he hadn't considered it. It was a strange thing, to not know what came next, unlike how he always did. Actually, it felt a bit exciting. "Then how about what you did before?"

He likely knew what you had done before, if he ever paid attention to the knights' routine. Yours was never separate, you've been doing the same thing for over a decade. But...you had actually started to miss it. It was evident in the thrill you received from taking up your training once more, even if sparsely.

When he speaks up again you think he only seeks to break the silence, but his voice was soft, empathetic? "I'm interested."

It sounded narcissistic at face value, but he was easing your concern from the mundanity of the routine. "Sure."

You hadn't imagined the Prince ever taking an interest in you, much less another noble. This will be interesting.

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x male reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #🎟 // genshin impact #🎫 // alhaitham #🌸 // success!

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12raccoonsinadress · 2 years ago

Note

heyyy if your request are still open can i get a mha fantasy au! fic were the princess!reader is in love with knight!tenyaiida and one night they get finally spend a night together and it’s like soft smut and fluff. and iida knows it’s wrong but he can’t help his love for the reader please💖💖

This is literally adorable ~ 💚

As You Wish : Knight!Iida x Princess!Reader (Smut)

Word Count : 2,465

Third POV

When you were told that you would be getting your own personal guard, your first thought most certainly wasn't that you were going to be falling in love with him. As time passed though, you realized that was exactly what was happening. You weren't exactly sure when it happened. Maybe it was during the long walks you often took through the garden with him by your side. Or perhaps it was during those nights you stayed up late in the library because you couldn't rest and, though tired, he insisted on staying by your side until you were ready to go to your room to sleep. Maybe it was the time you'd missed a step coming down the stairs and he caught you in his arms. Though in the end, it didn't really matter when you fell for him. All you knew was that you were head over heels for your loyal knight, Tenya.

Tonight you lay awake in your room, staring at the ceiling and letting your mind wander to places quite shameful for a lady. You imagined him out of armor. You'd seen him shirtless once. It was by accident and you'd since remembered to knock before entering his room if you ever needed to, but the image of his perfectly sculpted upper body had burned itself into the depths of your mind and made fantasies of him taking your innocence all the better. You imagined him saying things he'd never dare say to you. Filthy, inappropriate things. You wondered what it'd feel like for his hands to touch you. Holding you close, caressing your body, grazing your skin.

And little did you know, he fantasized about you just the same.

He knew it was horribly wrong. You were the princess. His only duty in life was to protect you and yet, here he was, imagining you beneath him. He closed his eyes, trying to picture the way your body might look beneath your lovely dresses. How your skin might feel. He bet it was soft. How you'd look as he pleased you. That's really what he wanted. Not to ravish you like an animal, or use you for his own pleasure. He wanted to watch you come undone beneath him over and over again. He wanted to hear your beautiful voice turn lewd with pleasure. He wanted to satisfy you. He didn't just lust for you. He loved you.

As he was your personal guard, he had to stay close to you. For this reason, his bedroom connected to yours through a door that didn't lock. You sat up in bed, unable to calm the restlessness caused by your dirty thoughts. You had a moment of boldness, if not foolishness as you knocked on the door between rooms. Much to your surprise, it was answered almost instantly. He looked just as awake as you were.

"Is something wrong, princess?"

His voice had a slight gruffness to it. Your cheeks were flushed a soft pink color as you spoke.

"Did I wake you?"

"No. I'm a bit restless tonight it seems."

"As am I. Would you.. keep me company?"

"Of course, princess."

You stepped aside so that he could enter the room. He stepped inside and you closed the door behind him. You walked over to your bed, sitting on the edge and patting the spot beside you. Hesitantly, he joined you.

"Do you feel alright?"

He asked, still generally concerned for your well being. You picked at the edge of your silky nightgown.

"Mostly. I'm... Restless."

You said, looking at him. You wondered if he'd have you. You desired him so deeply. You were sure he'd give himself to you if you asked, simply out of obligation in his loyalty to you. But you didn't want simple compliance. You wanted him to crave you as much as you craved him. You punctuated your response by gently setting your hand on his knee. You noticed his cheeks turn red.

"I.. understand the feeling."

"Do you understand how I'm feeling, Tenya?"

You asked, hoping to make your desires known. He swallowed hard, taking a shallow breath.

"If.. my assumptions are correct.. then.. yes. I understand completely."

His words were shaky though he took his time to make sure they were precise.

You brought a hand to his cheek, making him look you in the eye. He was putty in your hands.

"This is wrong. I shouldn't be here."

He whispered, though his hand found its way to your waist. You leaned in closer to him.

"I want you here."

You responded softly. His gaze lowered to your lips, lingering there.

"I live to serve you, princess. Anything you want of me is yours."

You leaned in, just a little more, though not touching your lips to his quite yet.

"Do you want me?"

You asked, hardly above a whisper.

"More than life."

He responded, a hint of desperation in his voice. With that, you close the gap, softly pressing your lips to his. He practically melted into your touch. He kissed you back gently, holding you just a little closer to himself. You leaned into him, elated that he returned your feelings. You broke the kiss, though he clearly didn't want to stop. You spoke quietly.

"Would you have me?"

His face was a lovely shade of red.

"Princess.. This.. this isn't right."

He was evidently nervous. You could understand why. It was scandalous he was even here right now. You didn't care though. Not about that at least.

"I'm not asking if it's right. I'm asking if you'd have me. I want you, no one else."

He took a moment, weighing his options. Then, in a loving show of strength, he lifted you and laid you down on your bed, holding himself above you. You looked up at him starry eyed.

"Princess, I don't think you know how many nights I've laid awake wondering what you'd look like just like this."

He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours once more. This one was a little less soft, though still full of love and desire. It was more desperate. He deepened it, taking immediate control of the situation. You didn't mind one bit. In fact, you were glad he wanted you so badly. It showed how much he loved you. You slid your hands up his chest beneath the loose nightshirt he wore. He was so strong. One of the many reasons you admired him so much.

He pulled away, just enough to breathe. You took that as your opportunity to start to slide his shirt up. He caught on, leaning back to discard it before looking back down at you. You looked so beautiful, lying beneath him in your dainty little nightgown. He reached up, gently brushing some stray hair from your face and cupping your cheek. He spoke softly.

"Princess... You're positive you want this?"

"I am."

You said back, matching his tone, and setting your hand on his. He rested his free hand on your thigh, just below the hem of your nightgown, squeezing gently.

"If it was discovered we did this..."

He trailed off. You knew though. He'd lose his job and you'd most likely be locked in your room until being sent off to marry some prince from another kingdom for one reason or another. You kissed the palm of his hand.

"Then we'll just have to not be caught."

He took a short moment to consider if he was really going to do this. But when he looked at you, so beautiful and perfect, eyes filled with love and lust for him and no one else, he caved. He leaned down to kiss you once more, letting both hands slip up the sides of your legs under your nightgown. You raised your hips so it was easier for him to undress you. He got the gown just above your breast when he paused, staring just a little bit. You smiled, though blushing, as you assumed this was the reaction of a man who's never seen a woman's breasts before.

"You can touch them if you'd like."

He blushed darker, knowing he'd been caught staring. He first finished removing your nightgown before letting himself focus on your body once again. Carefully, he took one of your breasts into his hand, squeezing gently. They were so soft, and your skin was so smooth. He wasn't exactly experienced, so he followed his first instinct which was to lean down and kiss the soft skin. There was something so nice about hearing you gasp softly as his lips just grazed past the more sensitive part of your chest. He liked seeing you react like that to something he did, so he stopped to focus there, kissing it with an open mouth whilst letting his hand play with the other. Hearing your soft moans, feeling you squirm just a little beneath him. It was everything he'd fantasized about. He continued on like that for a while until your squirming seemed to stem from impatience as opposed to stimulation. He pulled back. You spoke, though a little shakily.

"I need you, Tenya."

Those words alone could've put him at full mast if he weren't already incredibly hard.

"Yes, my princess."

He said, eyes drifting down your body, and hands moving to your thighs. He spread your legs. He stared. Though still in your little white panties, seeing you so vulnerable for him made more than just his heart throb. Through your panties, he began to feel you. It was no secret how wet you were. He could feel that through the fabric. You whined at the almost teasing touches. He pressed into you as much as your panties let him. There was no doubt if he continued this they'd be completely soaked. Through the thin fabric, he found and pressed against your clit. Seeing you moan, pressing yourself into his hand, he knew that must've been a good spot and so he continued to apply pressure there. He rubbed there in small circles, listening to your heavy breathing. By the time you were whining for him to take you, your pretty little white panties had become completely translucent from wet.

He was getting impatient himself, now moving to pull them off of you and gently set them aside. He spread your legs as wide as you comfortably could. He pressed a finger in, sliding in with ease from all the foreplay. He added a second when he saw how easily you took one. He pushed them in, curling them, loving hearing you moan. You gripped the sheets beneath you, willing yourself to not just cum now from all this teasing. You didn't want it to end. You didn't have the strength to stop yourself as his fingers pumped into you faster, his palm pressing to your clit and moving with his fingers. You moaned out, back arching, your inner walls clenching around his fingers. He slowly pulled his fingers out, admiring you. Face flushed red, legs shaking ever so slightly, pussy leaking from all he's done. He leaned over you again, kissing your forehead.

"I apologize, princess. I was too distracted by your beauty."

He had intended to take you as you had asked him but you looked so lovely just like that. He got carried away.

You kissed him softly. You knew he still needed attention and you weren't a cruel princess. Your duty was to serve your kingdom and its people. He was no exception.

"Take me."

You whispered. He seemed surprised.

"Princess, didn't you already-?"

You cut him off.

"Because you're so incredibly good to me, I have. I want you to feel just as good, and I want you to use my body to get there. I don't care how many times you make me cum, I want you to go until you're satisfied as well."

He looked at you in awe. It was an offer he couldn't refuse. He kissed your lips softly. You were so incredibly kind. So wonderful. And he took this as an opportunity and a challenge. He'd see how many times he could make you orgasm. He'd push you to that edge as many times as he could before letting himself let go. It was the least he could do.

He removed his pants and you got a moment to admire his impressive size. He ran his fingers along your still soaking wet slit, using the wetness to lube himself so it'd be easier for him to slide in. He positioned himself between your legs, holding them open on either side of his waist. He slowly pushed in. You moaned lowly, loving the stretch he gave you. He groaned, pushing until he was fully inside of you, taking a moment to relish the feeling. Slowly, he began to move. He didn't fully pull out, keeping his thrusts shallow. You covered your mouth to keep your moans and noises under control, but it proved difficult since you were so sensitive now.

He began to pull out more each time he pushed in. His pace wasn't incredibly fast, he was more focused on making you feel good right now, choosing going deep and hard over going fast. His hand found its way back between your legs, playing with your clit some more as he continued to push himself into you. Your legs trembled, threatening to snap closed around him from all the overstimulation. It didn't take much of that to push you over that edge again, letting out a whimper, muffled by your hand. He felt the way you tightened around him, squeezing, just as you had done around his fingers and he knew he must've been doing well. You felt so good around him, he wasn't sure he'd last particularly long. But he'd do his best.

2 or maybe 3 more orgasms later (truthfully your mind was long past the ability to count), he quickly pulled out, cumming on your lower stomach, panting heavily. The bed beneath you was soaked from a mix of your wetness and sweat. He got off of you, going to find something to clean you up with. He found a small towel, cleaning you up before realizing the bed would need to be cleaned as well. For now, he pulled his nightshirt onto you, which may as well have been a short nightgown, and lifted you into his arms, taking you to lay in his bed. He pulled his sleep pants on, putting your discarded clothes in your laundry hamper before returning to join you. By the time he laid down beside you and was pulling you close into his arms, you were sound asleep. He kissed your forehead.

"I love you, Y/n."

He whispered.

"And I always will."

#bnha #fanfic #mha fanfiction #mha smut #tenya iida #bnha smut #bnha fanfiction #bnha tenya #tenya x reader #tenya iida smut #tenya iida x reader #iida x reader

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cookiewarriorexpert · 11 months ago

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Memento Vivere, Amongst the Living

Pokèmon! Shapeshifter! Reader x Sagau Genshin Impact characters

(Archons, Traveller! Aether, Paimon, Wanderer, and Neuvillette)

Sum: The first time Creator! Reader stays in a nation for too long

Whether or not it was the nation that was so closely linked to the Pokémon world’s own Kalos region of where Xerneas resided, which took inspiration from [name]’s real life region of France, it did not matter, for [Name] stayed around in Fontaine for a bit too longer than they usually do to other regions to make sure they didn’t favor nations that could make other nations jealous of the fact that a nation had been favored by the Creator of Teyvat.

But the Xerneas form made them almost gravitate to the Nation of Hydro, and while it made Furina both a bit boastful and also kind of terrified since she was aware of how the Creator never stays in a nation for too long, and her pride turned to a bit of concern since she felt like she did something wrong, or maybe the entire nation at that. And thus, Neuvillette, with Furina’s worried and panicked pleas trying to make it out to be just excitedly boastful and unafraid orders, to call in the Traveller, it sort of escalated to a few unhappy archons, floating food, and of course a knight in the shadows to arrive.

All the while, [name] held not even a hint of confusion, the Xerneas form and the aged wisdom the form gave them made them have no fear, except for a little ounce of displeasure upon seeing the dragons. (Fairy biased against Dragon talking-lol)

Of course, Nahida and Wanderer only watched from the sidelines while everyone was discussing and basically theorizing about why would their Grace would stay in Fontaine. Even comically that [name] was only a few meters away and heard everything, more interested in the French-inspired pastries of the hydro nation, satisfied with the more smaller and cake-like pastries that reminded them of the pokepuffs from the Kalos region from the world of Pokémon.

Eventually, things somehow ended up with Neuvillette getting a bit standoffish with Zhongli, since Zhongli was not technically a dragon and Neuvillette was pretty much not happy about Zhongli being around.

Though Paimon quickly got everyone’s attention when she just hovered over the Creator, gravitating to their soothing, gentle, and all knowing aura, and maybe their Grace was the most patient out of their acolytes since everyone stared at Paimon as if she was a toddler or some ill-mannered child boldly trying to touch or mess with some prized antique or respected figure.

[Name] only flicked their ears, their lips curved slightly to an almost amused look as everyone seemed so worked up about Paimon being so close while Paimon seemed to not even care, as if she was just a buzzed little bee having too much pollen and addicted to the sweet allure of a flower.

“You know I could hear your conversation.” [Name] said, a small subtle smile graced their lips, causing a bit of flustered and a bit of embarrassment to stir up in the group of beings of different origins and nations.

And at that point, Furina, trying to pipe up, finally questioned [Name] in a burst of frustration and nervousness, the entire group was a bit in shock except for Nahida and the Wanderer, knowing well that Furina was overcome with pure frustration from the fear of not knowing why the Creator decided to stay longer.

“Okay I’ll bite!! Why are you here?! Was it just me being a fault?!” Questioned the desperate Furina in a bid of at least getting some satisfaction from the Creator’s answer or at least some scrap of sympathy.

[Name] only looked at Furina, a slight twinge from their ears and turning to Furina that the Hydro Archon quickly realized her mistake and began to bow and apologize profusely, now trying to avoid punishment, but [Name] only sigh, knowing well that they were guilty of making Furina and possibly the entire nation afraid.

“Furina, please stand up, I am not here because of a misgivings of anyone from this nation….” [Name] cooed, soothing a bit of Furina’s doubts, Furina quickly stood up, embarrassed and flustered of acting so immature in front of the other archons and the traveler. Paimon only lay down on the antlers of the Xerneas Hybrid as she took a sigh of relaxation, stirring some bit of jealousy that Paimon was not at least told to back off.

“I am here, simply because Fontaine has given me a sense of…. Home, a place of where I felt most comfortable.” [Name] continued, at first, everyone was silent, before Furina began to swell her chest up in pride, her eyes began sparkled, an unexpected speed of change from her anticipation for her Creator’s answer. Not only did this answer from the Creator cast no doubt that Furina’s nation was favored, but also that [Name] was not at all displeased by anything.

“Oh!- oh- Your Grace! -Why haven’t you told me in the first place?! Oh! Did you hear that Neuvillette?! Fontaine is the most favored nation in their Grace’s- oh thank you thank you thank you!!!” Furina squealed like a child hearing their parents approval, Furina was all over the place, her hands everywhere, as she first hugged Neuvillette and squeezing him as hard as she possibly could in a flurry of emotions and mostly pride, Furina quickly rammed into the Creator and hugging them with as much strength, causing a big shock amongst the small audience, but [Name] only smiled at Furina’s excitement.

Most of the Archons were a bit jealous that their Grace had favor for Fontaine rather than their own nations but they were complicit and not really complaining, Ei gave Furina her respect like Furina had won a duel, Nahida congratulating Furina’s achievement, Zhongli gave his respect, and Venti also gave his approval and was currently thinking of a song.

[Name] only watched on, before going back to indulge in some more of Fontaine’s delicious and delectable desserts and pastries.

And with Furina’s surge of pride and her enlarged ego, Furina and Neuvillette had joined [Name]’s little tea party, with the Archons, Aether, Wanderer, and Paimon as well.

Though Aether was a bit relieved that Paimon was asleep so she wouldn’t cause a problem of hoarding most of the pastries.

#genshin sagau #genshin x pokemon #genshin zhongli #genshin x reader #xerneas #Pokémon shapeshifter #furina #neuvilette genshin #Pokémon reader #pokémon xy

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leupagus · 11 months ago

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Am I writing this largely because I enjoy the idea of Sansa and Stannis constantly hissing at each other like two belligerent cats? Listen,

By the first week of the siege, Sansa was forced to admit — if only to herself —that warfare was far less exciting than she'd imagined. When she had been told of Robb's victories in the Riverlands she had always pictured him triumphant upon a fearsome destrier, sword held high as he cut down his enemies before him. Then he'd been killed and she had lived through the Battle of the Blackwater, waiting either rescue or slaughter by the very man who was now her ally. That had not been exciting, precisely, but it had not been this dull and plodding affair. A far cry from the valiant knights and noble battles she'd read when she was a girl; but she'd had precious little turn out the way she'd been taught.

She slept at the camps near the front lines, in the same soldier's tent she and Brienne and Podrick had shared for the past four months. Stannis had made all sorts of ridiculous protests about "ladies" and "danger" until she'd had to remind him, once again, that her eight thousand men gave her the freedom to dictate her own movements.

"All very well while we're waiting out here, my lady," he'd growled in response, after his requisite glare at her flawless logic, "But when battle joins, you'll be nothing more than a nuisance."

"In which case, I'll be quickly killed and you can have Rickon installed as Lord of Winterfell instead," she'd replied, "as you were hoping to do in the first place." That had shut him up, at least, and he'd gone back to scowling at Winterfell's walls.

Every night when she returned to the camp, she stopped at Stannis's tent and joined the conference with their commanders and lieutenants. It was then that she learned about the waging of war: how men were best deployed, how training was maintained even in the midst of a siege, how sickness was kept at bay so that it did not kill more soldiers than did the battles. Stannis disliked her presence there, too, but she was rapidly coming to understand that he would only be truly happy when she was out of his life for good. Possibly not even then. He did not seem a man much given to smiles.

The men did not share Stannis's view, at least; as she walked through the lines each morning and night they stood to bow to her, and press the back of her hand to their foreheads as she remembered they had done to Mother so long ago.

"They say that the old gods have brought you back to us," Lord Reed told her one day, as he accompanied her on her daily walk to the winter town. "That they were angered when the Starks were driven from Winterfell, and that they're drawing you all back here one by one. They say that Robb Stark may come back from the dead, such is the rage of the gods, and avenge all who wronged your house."

Joffrey had been diligent in recounting every detail of what had happened to Robb's body after Roose Bolton had killed him. She repressed a shudder to think of it and held more tightly to Reed's arm, grateful for the warmth of him at her side. "I hope they are not disappointed if all they get is me and Rickon."

Reed chuckled. "They're well-satisfied, my lady," he said. They walked into the winter town just as the sun broke over the mountains. "You're a sight prettier than the Young Wolf ever was, that's certain."

The winter town was where her real work was done each day. It was the custom every winter for the smallfolk of the North to leave their hides holdfasts and journey here, bringing what they could cart or carry. The winter town would eventually house nearly one in three of every soul living in the North, seeking shelter together to endure the cold.

The Boltons had not bothered to do their duty, laying in no provisions and building no new housing. Up until now it had mattered little; even as the winds had begun to blow, few smallfolk had dared to come take shelter under the banners of the flayed man. The town itself had been all but abandoned, until word of the Starks' return had begun to spread throughout the North.

Now the winter town seemed to double in size with each passing day despite the ongoing siege of the Keep. Sansa had her hands full in directing builders, organizing kitchens, allocating what resources they had to feed and shelter everyone. In this she was aided by any number of friends and allies: those servants and household members who had first escaped during Winterfell's seizure by the Ironborn, or who had endured that but had fled the Boltons' brutal takeover; the households of her lords who had come to support the siege; even Lady Umber and her formidable staff lent a hand before she returned to Last Hearth. Her most steadfast assistants were Rickon and Shireen, who at first had joined her out of boredom but were now her little lieutenants, breathlessly updating her on all events of the previous night as she joined them for breakfast each morning. She received aid also from her men in the armies, assigning their builders to fortify the town in much the same way they were fortifying the siege camp.

Her lords approved of this; Stannis, of course, did not.

"You seek another threescore soldiers?" he demanded one evening.

The siege had now dragged on near a month. Bolton's men showed signs of distress, Lord Flint reported with no small satisfaction; they would not last much longer. But this had brought a fresh concern, and Sansa had broached it during their evening conference.

"We need to build up the palisades along the eastern side of the winter town," Sansa insisted, pointing at the map spread out along the table, with the various pieces representing the various companies all arrayed neatly atop. Stannis's wooden flaming hearts were outnumbered by Sansa's wolf heads two to one, though many of hers appeared hastily-carved from whatever spare wood was at hand. She reached for a flaming heart on the far side of the Keep, well away from the siege. "It need only be for—"

"Give me that," Stannis snapped, snatching it back. "Those men are covering the huntsman's gate, should any of Bolton's forces be cowardly enough to attempt escape rather than stand and fight."

"And you anticipate that happening in the next day?" she demanded, resisting the urge to lunge for the piece the way she used to with Robb when he had teasingly stolen her embroidery, holding it just out of reach. "There must be fifty or sixty men out of twelve thousand that can be spared."

"Why are the palisades in need of building up in the first place?" Stannis demanded, as Lord Glover opened and then shut his mouth to reply to her. "This winter town of yours is folly — you cannot grant entry to every farmer and tinker who pleads for shelter."

Sansa gaped at him in outrage, though even as she did so she was heartened to hear the murmur of her lords at such a comment. "That is precisely what is done, and has been for every winter since before Bran the Builder set stones to build Winterfell!" She glared at him. "This is a refuge, Your Grace."

"This is a siege, my lady," he retorted, looming over her. She thought longingly of the beautiful heeled shoes Margaery wore; she needed only a few inches to match Stannis's height, and see what good his looming did him then. "The smallfolk congregate here at their own risk!"

"My people congregate here because they believe I will keep them safe, and I will do so. With or without Your Grace's help!"

"Without, if it pleases my lady!"

Half-ready to club him over the head with the nearest chair, Sansa grabbed the flaming heart out of his hands and waved it in his face. "What are these men supposed to do, if Bolton and his soldiers escape out this way?"

Stannis looked too near a fit of apoplexy to reply, so it was Lord Cerwyn who cleared his throat and answered, "They are charged to report back, my lady, with some following at a safe distance to see where they go."

"It's perfectly obvious where they'll go," Sansa snapped. "Lord Bolton will make for the Dreadfort."

"Of course he will," said Stannis, finding his voice at last, though he did not try for the wolf's-head piece again. "That doesn't mean—"

"I know three dozen local boys who could hide along the route from the huntsman's gate to the eastern road and bring back reports, without clomping about the forests in full armor," Sansa said, slamming the piece down at the winter town. "And they might be able to bring back some food, while they're at it. Unlike your soldiers, they know how to hunt in the Wolfswood without frightening off half the game."

A few days later, she had her men.

#sansa stark #stannis baratheon #in case you're wondering: yes of course Sansa rescues him from the TITCHY LITTLE SNOWSTORM he gets stuck in #because this great and fearsome battle-tested soldier and commander apparently had no idea that snow happened in the North?#and yes Brienne has a lot of thoughts and feelings about this which will be gotten into #but in the meantime: slapfights between two people one of whom never had sisters the other of whom had TOO MANY BROTHERS #including Arya who was the most brother of all possible sisters #I'm just saying: Stannis is getting bullied and he deserves it #game of thrones motherfuckers #got: bitches get stuff done #ficcage of interest

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weemssapphic · 1 year ago

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Strange

PART ONE: Isn't it strange?

Link to part two!

Brienne of Tarth x f!reader

Summary: Betraying the King is one thing. Betraying the King when the Lord Commander is your girlfriend? That’s another.

Words: ~1.4k | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: angst, breakups, hurt/no comfort (pssst... part 2 has a happy ending!)

A/N: The first part of this fic is a songfic to Strange by Celeste - I highly recommend listening to it as you read. Special thanks to @dianneking for being an excellent beta! ✨

I tried for you Tried to see through all the smoke and dirt It wouldn’t move What could I do?

You sit gingerly at the edge of the bed that you share with Brienne - the Brienne of Tarth. You’ve been together for nearly three years now and, still, she makes your heart beat just a little faster and your stomach do a somersault every time she looks at you. Just the thought of her is usually enough to make you swoon - usually.

Your eyes scan your surroundings, filling with tears as you realize it may be the last time you’ll sit here, on this bed, in this little cottage. A small home filled with memories, filled with love. Little trinkets on every shelf, gifts from you to Brienne, and from Brienne to you; paintings on the walls, each carrying a unique story; every piece of furniture carefully crafted to satisfy both of your tastes. Memories of sitting at the dining table sharing meals, of staying up late curled up in front of the fire to talk, of making love in the pale glow of dawn, sleepy and lazy - carefree and in love. Your eyes fall to the bags next to you on the bed - almost packed.

Say, isn’t it strange? Isn’t it strange? I am still me You are still you In the same place

The door to the cottage slams open, deafening in the otherwise quiet space. Brienne storms in, her face red and her jaw clenched. Instinctively, you rise to your feet as she comes to a stop in front of you.

Isn’t it strange? How people can change From strangers to friends Friends into lovers And strangers again

“Why would you do that?” she spits out - you’ve never seen her fury directed at you before, and it breaks your heart just as much as it ignites a fury of your own inside of you.

“He let hundreds of women and children die or worse, and I’m supposed to stand around and pretend the great King doesn’t deserve to be gutted on his throne for what he’s done? How can you defend him?”

“It’s my duty.” Brienne’s face is hard and her tone unwavering, and she stands straight and tall, and, Gods, does that piss you off.

“Fuck duty! Since when is duty more important than doing the right thing?” Your chest is rising and falling erratically now, your cheeks flushed with anger. You can’t believe she would take the King’s side over your own - but then, she’s a knight. You shouldn’t have expected her to be different.

Brienne looks like she’s about to raise her voice again, but then her eyes fall to the bags at your feet and the color drains from her face. “What are you doing?”

“It wouldn’t look too good for you to be with a traitor,” you say, keeping your voice level - as level as you can, at least, as you drink in Brienne’s expression, watching her heart break in real time.

“It… what?” Brienne’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. Her lower lip begins to quiver and she swallows visibly as her eyes dart between you and the packed bags.

What did we lose? What did we lose?

“I’m a traitor now, apparently. I cannot stay here - and the righteous and just Lord Commander should not be seen with a traitor - it’s unbecoming of a knight.” You try for a smile but it looks more like a pained grimace - you feel tears prick at your eyes once again as Brienne’s own eyes turn watery, pale eyelashes fluttering rapidly against her cheekbones.

If I could, I’d pull your strings for one more dance But I can’t

“This life is everything you’ve ever worked for. I can’t be the one to take that away from you. But… I can’t stay. It’s better for both of us like this - you get to keep your position and your honor. And I…” You swallow thickly - your own words sound foreign to you, so far away. “I won’t have to watch the woman I love sell her soul to a heartless monster.”

Brienne’s lips part but she says nothing - the hurt on her face says more than words ever could, but so does her silence. That breaks your own heart most of all.

“Brienne, I-” The words catch in your throat - they can’t get past the lump that has settled there, dying before they even reach your lips.

Isn’t it strange? You look at me I look at you With nothing to say

You have never seen Brienne look at you the way she’s looking at you now - a strange mixture of grief, remorse, and incredulity that looks foreign to you amongst her features. Her eyes, which usually hold all the stars in the galaxy, twinkling brightly, are reserved and guarded. Her lips are pressed into a hard line - curling down slightly at the edges, rather than up. A stray golden curl falls across her furrowed brow - you feel yourself reaching out involuntarily to brush it aside, a force of habit, before thinking better of it and dropping your arm to your side.

“I should go,” you croak out. You reach into your bedside table and pull out an ornate necklace, made of solid gold and sapphires the colors of the waters of Tarth. It’s all Brienne has from her mother, and Brienne had given it to you on your first anniversary - it would suit you better than it had ever suited her, she’d reasoned, and you’d always carry a part of her and of Tarth with you when you wore it. “Here. It was your mother’s, you should have it back.”

Brienne’s eyes widen, the crease between her brows deepens. Her teeth sink into her lower lip to prevent it from quivering again and she turns her head, a shaky breath leaving her throat. “No. I gave it to you - keep it. Please.”

The ‘please’ tapers off into a tremble and you feel the entirety of Westeros being pulled out from underneath your feet. You want to do what she says - but you can’t. She deserves to have a piece of her family with her - and you know you could never wear it again without feeling the weight of your grief hanging around your neck.

“I can’t.” You place it delicately on the bed - it catches the rays of the setting sun, and the sapphires remind you of Brienne’s eyes, and you glance up at the ceiling, willing your oncoming tears not to fall. You reach down to grab your bags, then, with a deep breath and one last look around the cottage (memorizing, desperately memorizing), you head past Brienne out the door.

Gravel crunches underneath your boots as you round the cottage, taking quick strides towards your horse. A second set of footsteps is not far behind and, as you fasten the bags to your horse’s saddle, slender fingers grip your wrist.

“Don’t leave. Please. Don’t. Leave.” Brienne’s voice breaks this time, and you don’t have to turn around to know that she’s crying. You close your eyes for a moment to steel yourself, then turn to face her. Her expression hurts like nothing you’ve ever experienced, her face scrunched up as tears leave pale tracks down her cheeks.

“I don’t have a choice,” you whisper, your own voice hoarse and trembling. “They’ll be searching for me soon enough. And you have to tell them that I was gone before you came home. If you want to keep your position, you need to let me go.”

Brienne’s eyes dart between your own and, for a moment, you hope she won’t let you leave. You hope she’ll say that she’ll take your side, that she’ll fight for you - her position be damned. You hope she’ll hop on the horse with you and ride away. You hope she’ll choose you.

But she doesn’t. Her grip on your wrist loosens and her hand falls back down to her side, and though she cries and cries and cries, she stays rooted to the spot.

There you have your answer, you suppose. You swallow against the lump in your throat and turn away, ignoring the broken wail that leaves Brienne’s throat as you mount your horse.

“I love you, Brienne,” you whisper softly - you don’t think she’s heard it over her own sobs, and maybe that’s for the best. You start to ride off, looking back only once, just before you reach a bend in the road that will take you out of King’s Landing. Brienne watches you - but she doesn’t move to follow.

Isn’t it strange? How people can change From strangers to friends Friends into lovers And strangers again

Find part two here!

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