#banter for DAYS they're so married it's unbelievable | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

teddybeartoji · 10 months ago

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😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

ARIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII WHEN ARE WE GETTING MARRIED WE NEED TO RN words cannot express how much everything you said mean to me:((( i read your notes first thing in the morning and you literally made my day two days in a row you're incredible doctors fear you fr I LOVE UU

I'M SO HAPPY U LIKE MY LITTLE PRINCE he's suuuuuch a little shit it's unbelievable like the times i rolled my eyes while writing this...............

"like a movie. all hazy and sunlit and sparkly. gleaming and bursting into his world." LIKE A MOVIE RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT???? GOD I'M SO GLAD IT SOUNDED LIKE A MOVIE BC I WAS REALLY TRYING TO MAKE IT SOUND LIKE A MOVIE AAAAAAA

gojo being a dummy and instantly taking this rough and tough knight as an angel.............. (me too gojo me too)

and omgf i'm so glad the action sequence came out ok (i was waltzing around my room with a pipe trying to figure out if the moves make sense or not. i'm still cool though right?)

gender roles are currently sucking my dick they have nothing on me I'M GLAD U GET IT. U UNDERSTAND.

"i love this kind of depiction of beautiful brutality" i'm crying i'm actually crying thank you for saying this

AND U SAYING U LIKE MY WRITING STYLE???????? MY WRITING STYLE???????????????? MINE??????????? i'm like a fangirl i'm printing everything u said out and gluing it above my bed

no bc knight!suguru is very important ok (he will be in the next ones too ofc ofc ofc)

EEEEEEEEEEEEE U LOVE KNIGHT!READER bro same though i was writing it and i was blushing......... i'm writing the next chapters and my my my ari you better prepare yourself ok

"knight!reader is violent and beautiful and dangerous and gojo is just watching them lovingly" RIGHT????? HE'S SO DOWN BAD

a headscratch would 10000000% fix him it's crazy imagine how soft his hair is though i think giving him a headscratch would fix me too damn

the differences between them will make u cry and it will make me cry (i was making the playlist today right and OH BOY we are in for a ride grab your tissues)

he soooooooo just wants to hear them say his name like he is ready to BEGGGGGG for it and it truly is nothing more than him just wanting to connect with them yk he's making a big show of it bc he doesn't know how else to do it

bantering on the battlefield yes yes yes fuck i'm so happy you get it

"i just know he was sitting there twirling his hair kicking his feet watching his beloved knight behead a whole man" LMAOO EXACTLY with hearts in his eyes smh

again - it means so so soo much to me what you're saying about my writing style and dialogue i'm sending u so many kisses n hugs

"HELP THE WAY HE WANTS TO HAVE A ROMANTIC MOMENT W U SOOOO BADLY" LIKE THERE AREN'T ACTUAL DEAD BODIES LAYING AROUND GOJOOOO GET A GRIP (no fr i am him he is me i would too simply ignore them if a fucking knight was in front of me)

THE BLADE TO HIS NECK IS COOL RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT WE SHARE THE SAME BRAINCELLSSSS

gojo getting a boner is canon okay i wholeheartedly believe he would get so turned on from seeing u fight and be mean and bloody and angry oh my god he's soooooo normal

really wanted them to have a cute little moment in the end after all the fighting and bickering they're so cute actually i'm so happy you love them as much as i do

SUGU RADAR IS BEEPING HAHAHAHAHAHAH

stsg meant to be always and forever (i have so many thoughts for the next chapter............. what if what if what if)

HELPPPP literally the second i laid eyes on gojo for the first time i knew i was fucked.........

ARI MY SWEET SWEET BELOVED THANK YOU FOR THIS TRUE LOVE LETTER i literally screenshotted the entirety of it i need your words with me forever and ever it means the world to me that you've taken the time to write this and that you're as crazy about them as i am you really did make my day<3333333 i hope you're having the best day the best night the best sleep the best food the best drinks the best of fucking everything you could ever fucking desire love u!!!!!

SUMMER - THE FIRST MEETING

☆. contains: prince!gojo satoru x gn!knight!reader; crack, fluff; meet-cute????; blood and death; tw gojo is fucking ridiculous; a couple of suggestive comments and a boner mention; also a knight!suguru mention (thank u moss); reader has scars

☆. word count: 6k

☆. note: dedicated to @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat thank you for being insane about them with me and thank you for being my inspiration<333

adrenaline pumps in his veins.

the branches scratch his marble skin as he runs through the forest, followed by the loud thumping of six or seven men. the sudden loudness amidst the trees scares even the birds, flocks of them flying in their seperate ways over the clear blue sky.

"c'mere, boy!"

"yeah! we jus' wanna talk!" their deep dark laughter echoes between the trees. the prince's heart thumps in his chest - for once in his life he might actually be a bit anxious. nervous, even. no, no way. he'll talk himself out of it just like any other time. his charm will save him.

"wanna see what your insides look like, pretty boy!"

okay, maybe not.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

he tries to catch a glimpse of them over his shoulder and immediately trips over a branch, falling face first into a cute small clearing. the perfect little spot for a murder attempt of a prince.

"well, well, well. if it isn't the honored one." says one of the men that had been chasing him. another one steps into the clearing after him and from the corner of his eye he spots another pair. he's clearly outnumbered.

"why hello, gentlemen! fancy seeing you here! didn't take you for nature guys but it is a lovely day today, isn't it?" still down on the soft grass bed, the prince tries to slowly back away from the hunters before him.

"where's your sword, boy? stupid of you to come out without it. you never know what lurks in the shadows, heh." another voice booms from the left. two more men leaning on trees, one of them plays with a knife while the other lights a smoke. the bright sunlight bounces off the knife, making the prince gulp.

now typically, he would have it with him but well, he hadn't really planned on getting ambushed, now did he? his plan was to enjoy the warm weather and time away from his father. so this time, he does not have it. this one time he decides he'll do fine without it is the time for these money hungry bastards to make their move. how unfortunate.

"i was actually hoping to use one of yours." he says with a smile.

the men laugh.

a bald one steps forward, the leader the prince presumes. he plays with the tip of his blade, letting it glide over his palm as he starts making his way over to the prince.

"you really are as arrogant as they say. d'ya know how much your head costs?"

the prince laughs.

"what's so funny, boy?"

"i don't think you gents can even comprehend how much my head would cost."

a palm flies over his mouth, surpressing the giggles thrathening to leave. how can one be so proud of his own joke? his attackers stare at the prince with straight faces - they either don't understand or they're seriously beginning to take him for a bit of a loony.

"not funny? i thought it was funny. you know, head?" the prince's tongue pokes at his cheek, his hand making a back and forth motion and one of the men gags. "what?! you're the ones talking about my head!"

"enough."

the baldy is only a few steps away but the prince doesn't really have a plan. should he run again? the castle is far, would he even make it there? sure, he's fast but there's way more of them. hell, there might be more hiding in the trees. what if they do have horses somewhere? they'll catch him for sure. shit, where is suguru?

and as if an aswer to his question — a sudden loud neigh cuts the tension on the clearing and a saviour appears.

a black horse, with a mane darker than night, stands back on it's hind legs - looming over the prince and the peasants. a figure sits up high, bright sunlight beaming from right behind them, the shadow hiding their face. but the prince knows — it's not suguru. no, this is someone else entirely.

armor clangs as the figure hastily jumps off their horse, mumbling a quick go, boy! to the animal. he takes off into the woods, leaving just the hunters and the prey behind.

a knight. coming to save him.

"step back." confidently unsheathing your sword, you point the silvery blade at the baldy. your voice is rough and the prince definitely doesn't recognise you.

"we were here first." he bites back.

"he's mine."

and then the prince falls into a dream-like state. the short interaction between his knight and the bandits falls deaf on his ears as he's busy taking you in. who are you? you're surrounded by some kind of holy light — an angel, sent just for him. he has never seen you before, he'd definitely remember you if he had. he glances over your armor, noticing the small specks of rust covering the joints of the cuirass. you're not wearing a helm so the prince can take his time to remember your eyes; the big scar running down across your right eye forever engrained into his mind. and it's not the only one – you've clearly taken some hits; a strong warrior nonetheless. your eyes are set on the bald bastard in front of you – cold and hunter-like? absolutely devoid of fear and anything alike, you know you will best the men before you. you shall brush them off and count this as a quick and simple victory. your posture is immaculate, your head held up high – it's making him a bit jealous really, all the times he's been lectured about not having a straight back flood his mind. he should be ashamed. his eyes fall to your lips; they're a little chapped but that's completely understandable. a mighty knight like you doesn't have the time to worry about such silly things, although the prince thinks he would gladly (and generously) share some of his special made lip balm with you. preferably straight from his lips to yours.

a sudden light in the corner of his eye breaks breaks him from his dream and gives him a second to scoot backward – to escape the sharp blade coming down his way very fucking fast —

it lands right between his thighs, awfully close to his precious manhood and he gasps. big widened eyes gaze up at the perpetrator but before he can say anything, a quick swing at the man's neck makes the lump in the prince's throat grow in size. the man's mouth opens and closes twice, eyes rolling back before the whole head rolls off the body. it falls between the prince's legs, right next to the sword, the body following a mere second later. blood splatters out of the limp figure, painting the lush green grass a deep dark red color instead.

"next."

the prince blue eyes rise from the sight in front of him to you and your eyes meet for the first time ever. a prince and his knight.

but moment doesn't last. you tear your sharp eyes from his infatuated ones and glare at the men hiding in the treeline. it seems they need a moment to collect themselves – as they should. not everybody is able to cleave a head off a body in one swing.

they've heard stories about you.

an abrupt war cry emits from behind one of the trees, accompanied with the fast heavy steps of the man sprinting towards you. he's a good distance away, giving you more than enough time to ready yourself. his eyebrows are furrowed, fingers tightly gripping the sharp blade in his hand. he's approaching quickly, the ground thumping under his feet. you make your stance directly in front of the prince, ready to protect him, ready to keep him all to yourself.

while you're focused on the bastard coming straight for you, you barely make out the other pair of feet advancing from the other side.

"watch out!" a loud warning comes from down below you, the prince watching the scene unfold with exhilaration. this just might be his dream – he's the damsel in distress and you are his knight.

but to you, it seems that these poor men (including the prince himself) still underestimate you.

the yelling man meets his demise the second he's in your reach, a swift deep slash across his body stopping him in his tracks - he'll bleed to death in a matter of minutes. you think about how stupid they are for coming out here without armor or any other sort of protection. did they really think killing the prince would be so easy. however, you don't have time to contemplate the decisions of these silly little men because the other bandit is about to be on you.

almost stumbling over the prince's lanky legs, you realize that you're putting the prince way too close to the danger. you wouldn't want him to get hurt, now, would you? so, you take a bold step toward your attacker and pressuring him into making his move earlier than expected - which in turn, makes dodging it easier than expected. he swings his sword but you dodge it; he does it again - this time in the opposite direction but to no avail. you strike him once, twice – sending him staggering backwards before finishing him off with slash to his throat. he falls.

you're panting; a light sheen of sweat covers your forehead – a drop runs down the side of your face. the heavy armor and the sword are taking their toll but it's nothing new, you're used to this. thick dark blood drips from your blade - they're good friends by now, they often meet. the silver and red mix together, making a color you know all too well.

meanwhile, the prince sits on the soft grassy ground, observing the brutal scene. his hands shake from the adrenaline still pumping in his body; the excitement of the whole thing making him grow restless – desperate for some action. every day he sits in the castle, rows of words filling his vision – it's boring. he tries to bother suguru as much as he can, it's pretty much the only entertainment he has. sometimes he still messes around with the maids; aimlessly flirts with the younger women and cracks jokes with the older ones. but it's not enough. he needs this.

so, he scrambles to grab the dead man's sword from between his legs, drawing your attention away from the treeline, where three men still prowl.

"stand back, your highness." you try to command him.

"no way." he replies with a smile.

you reach out your hand, ready to push him aside - to usher him toward the other side of the clearing but a deep voice interrupts you.

"would you look at that, the boy wants to play too?" he chuckles darkly.

"bold of you to laugh while your friends lay dead before you." the prince sharply snaps back.

the man stays quiet.

you stare at him for a moment, raising a brow at his arrogance. you've heard that the prince has had some training and that he is supposedly good with a sword but to be this excited in a moment like this? he's something else, you surmise. he takes his place slightly behind you, ready to "watch your back".

in theory, you're still outnumbered even with the prince alongside you. the men are circling around you and it's hard to keep them all in your sights. two of them seem to be more focused on you, seemingly the only good idea they've had in a minute, and one is going straight for the prince.

they all make their move simultaneously, running wildy at the both of you. a loud clang — a swing against your tough armor; the heavy hit almost making you lose your balance. you collect yourself fast and take a quick left - successfully ducking away from the next blow. but the taking on two people at the same time is no small feat; the other bandit smacks you right in the middle of your face with the back of his sword, immediately flooding your senses with the tangy smell of blood. the warm liquid drips down to your lip and you can almost taste it. no, wait - you can taste it. a cut in your tongue, deep and painful, the result of it getting caught between your teeth. you've always thought it hard to bite your tongue and now, a mouthful of blood clogging your throat confirms that you won't be doing that again. you spit some of it out and bare your red stained teeth at the attackers.

the prince behind you is, surprisingly, holding his own very well. he's enjoying it. a cocky smile plays on his lips as he toys with the man. taking a step to the right and then to the left, as if checking his footwork.

"not bad, tough guy!" the prince laughs, making you glance over your shoulder but the movement in front of you brings your focus back to your guys. tired of playing around, you juke one of them and cut off the hand holding the blade; the man's wailing music to your ears. whilst he cries, you stab the remaining man right through his chest.

the prince and his dance partner are still going at it. the man swings his blade at the prince and he deflects it with ease. he keeps taking steps forward, forcing his opponent to back up; it's clear who's controlling the fight.

it's quite pleasing to watch; how smoothly he walks; with no shame - like he owns this clearing (he quite literally does). just like you, he knows he's already won this duel. it pleasing to watch how he raises his sword with a smile; how he knows there won't be a single consequence to anything he could possibly do to this man. he can have his time with him.

but there's a very distincitve difference between him and you. while the prince uses every possible chance to taunt and mess with his rival, preferring to toy with them - you would never. it's what really reminds you, who you're fighting alongside with. this is not some random drunk in a tavern or a even a skilled knight on a battlefield - it's the prince. a boy, who's used to playfighting instead of surviving.

your heavy armored boot sinks into the ground as you step between them, swiftly slicing your sword across his knees, making him fall down with a sob. you wipe the blood from your nose, slightly smearing it on your cheek.

"this isn't a game." you deadpan to the price. it's uncanny, how good he looks. no. scratch that. it's uncanny, how excited he still looks. a smirk stays glued to his lips, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are just about to pop out of his head, pupils so dilated that the crystalline blue color of his eyes is almost entirely gone. his lips are parted and he's panting a little, resembling a puppy - ready to do anything just to go outside and play.

"why not? i haven't had this much fun since – i don't know, fucking forever, probably."

the two last bandits cry on either side of you but you pay them no mind.

"these men are trying to kill you, your highness." blood pools in your mouth and you spit it out, wiping your mouth once more.

"whatever." he laughs. he plays with the blade in his hand but his eyes are cemented to your bloodied lips.

"whatever?"

another loud cry comes from the man with no arm.

"there are constantly people trying to kill me. it's no big deal." he drops the sword, aware he won't be needing it any longer.

"must i remind you – you looked pretty terrified before i arrived, your highness."

the prince's mouth falls agape. how dare you mock him? and how dare you look so good while doing it?

just when the armless man opens his mouth to let out another annoying wail, you end him with a strong blow, putting him out of his well-deserved misery.

"and need i remind you, i am your prince." he stands next to you, eagerly trying to assert dominance but the jutted out lip almost makes you laugh.

"oh, my deepest apologies for offending your pride, my prince." you bow down, just enough to really get your teasing point across. you spit out another clump of blood. stepping to the very last dying man on the clearing, you swat away his dirty hand and slice his throat. you watch the red liquid flow out of the wound and down his body. you watch the light go from his eyes and you let out a deep sigh. closing your eyes, you lift your head up to the sky, momentarely basking in the warm sunlight.

the silvery heavy boots you're wearing are absolutely tearing into the back of your heel and the constant irony smell and taste is getting rather annoying. your tongue hurts and your fucking nose hurts and if you're being honest, your whole damn body hurts.

but the over exaggerating sigh emitting from the prince makes you take a peek at him. he's almost mimicking you - standing up with his head lolled back and eyes closed, he also seems to be enjoying the sun. just like you.

gives you time to just look at him, though. his hair still looks soft as ever, like he hadn't been fighting for his life a few minutes ago. you know, he takes care of his hair - he just seems the type to spend inexplicably long in front of his mirror making sure the white tufts of hair sit nicely. his pretty little prince attire is messed up, though. it's dirty and stained green in some places; it's wrinkled, deep lines running all over his body. but then, you spot a patch of red on his beautiful pale skin. the dirt and the wrinkles you can look past but blood on the kingdom's beloved prince is a bit too much. he can't go back to the castle like that, can't have his parents worrying. can't have the king and the queen worrying. so, you abandon your place in the sun and walk over to him. the prince barely has the time to open his eyes before you're roughly grasping his chin and smashing his cheeks together.

"you uh- have a little something here, your highness." you wet your thumb in your mouth and bring it to his cheek, gently wiping it clean.

he should be at least a little disgusted. he's the prince! how dare you touch him like that! with your own fingers; with a saliva coated thumb, wiping at his precious face and oh, his thoughts are running wild in his head. he wants more of that. he needs more of that. sure, it's dirty – he doesn't know where your hands have been. well, he kind of knows, considering he literally just watched you decimate six men. but your hand cradling his jaw is something he doesn't get that a whole lot.

sure, his mother kisses him on the cheek every once in a while and there are people helping him dress and even wash himself but it's just not it. he wants somebody to really touch him. like you're doing right now.

he's staring down at you, looking at the concentrated look on your scarred face. the close proximity is already clouding his head, the touch deprivation really kicking in. yeah, no, he's officially addicted.

when you finally release his face from your hold, his own hand rises to return the gesture but you harshly swat his hand away.

"none of that." you grunt as you for the nth time of the lovely afternoon, wipe your own blood off off your face. turning away from him a piece of clothing on the ground catches your eye.

"so you're allowed to be all bloody and muddy but i am not?" since your back is turned to him, you can't see his face but you're so sure you just heard him pout.

"because my appearance does not matter, your highness. all that matters is you being returned safely."

"right." his eyes bore into your figure, trying to take a mental picture of the cravings on the back of your armor. he doesn't recognise those either.

bending down you pick up the piece of cloth made out of the most expensive materials, surely, just for the prince. swiping your rough fingers over it, you marvel in the softness of it. it's completely and utterly foreign to you. not meant for you to touch.

"i do believe this is yours, your highess?" you turn back to him and reach out your arm, offering it to him. he nods but makes no attempt to retrieve it from you.

"shouldn't you put it on, your highness? doesn't it hurt?" you inquire, genuine curiosity evident in your voice.

"no, i want to keep looking at you without restrictions."

usually, you don't fall for such simple words. usually. but this really caught you off-guard. your breath hitches just a little as you stare back at him. he confidentally holds your gaze, no regret in his eyes. if anything, a glint of proudness shines in them. you try to brush it off.

taking a few steps, you simply push it into his hands and a bright smile plays on his lips as he pickets the blindfold. he's annoying, you conclude in your mind.

in the background you hear a quiet neigh, breaking the sweet little moment between the knight and the prince – your horse letting you know that it has returned to you.

"he's very well-trained." the prince muses.

"he is." you look at your companion with pride and beckon it closer. stopping right in front of you, his dark mane glistens under the sunlight. you give him a few pats before adjusting the saddle.

"unlike you, of course." it's a mumble, if anything. a quiet breath under your nose yet the prince hears it nonetheless - his eyebrows shooting up.

"excuse me?"

you look up at him.

"you are excused, your highness. 'though, i really oughta return you home now, i'm sure your parents are terribly worried." you gesture to the horse.

he scoffs. "ah yes, surely, the king is worried."

you hum knowingly. you've seen him waltzing around town a few times, a bitter old man; desperate to keep his claim on the land and even more desperately trying to build a clone out of his son. trying to open up his brain and stuff it with battelfield strategies while the boy himself is occupyied with actually taking care of his people. that much you know about him.

stepping back from the saddle, you motion for him to climb on but to your displeasure, the man steps back.

"wait-wait! i don't even know your name! you just saved the prince, i really should now your name." he says loudly. he speaks like he's not afraid to take up space. you envy him.

"that is irrelevant, your highness. now, please." you motion to the animal beside you again.

the prince takes another big step backward into the centre of the clearing. he does a spin, enjoying the warm sun and completely ignores the dead bodies all around him.

"satoru."

you look at him confused. the boy stands in the field of blood with a beaming smile and an outstreched hand. inviting you in. "my name."

"i know your name, your higness." you stare at him blankly. this is the prince? your kingdom will soon be in his hands? you're doomed.

"well, i want you to use it."

"absolutely not, your highness."

"i command you."

...

satoru's lips twitch upward – awaiting for your reply; thinking he's won already. clearly not enough people tell him no.

"i pretend i do not hear, your highness."

his shoulders fall, his lower lip jutting out. "but you have to!"

"i do not, your highness."

"isn't a prince's command sacred?" he skips over to you. "or something?"

"or something, your highness." you sigh, looking at him, silently begging for him to climb onto the horse and be on your way to the castle and then to the nearest bed. you reckon you deserve as muc —

"where do you think you're going?"

a voice - coming from the other side of the clearing. it's deep, like thunder. and there he is. the seventh man of the group and he's big. this is who the guys were probably betting on doing the all of the work. shit.

"hey, who are you?!" the prince shouts and you almost push him into the bush next to you.

"i see you've already dealt with my dear friends. that's a shame. one of 'em owed me a drink."

"and you'll be dealt with, too, if you don't stop right there!" you yell back at him, making him laugh.

"listen here, tin can," the humiliating nickname makes the prince snicker and you have half the mind to actually smack him. "i'm not here for you. 'm here for your pretty little boyfriend."

"he is not my boyfriend!"

"no? so you're not on a lovely stroll in the woods together, hm?" he's now in the middle of the field and the reality of this man's size is making you gulp. he's very obviously towering over the both of you and well, armor won't really do anything if your opponent can just crush your skull.

"we actually are!" the prince answers with a smug smile. and this being the final straw, you hit his shoulder with everything you've got, making him stumble backwards.

"how dare you?" he whispers. you try your utmost best to ignore him.

unsheathing your sword, you start making your way over to the man.

"good luck!"

"oh, fuck off."

the prince is sure he's in love. and since love is blind, he definitely does not see the real danger of the situation; he truly believes you will kill this man in one go and you'll be on your merry way home. he'll be swinging his legs while sitting behind you, whistling alongside the birds.

"what kind of a man doesn't fight his own fights?"

"the prince kind, you dumb fuck."

you meet him smack in the middle of the blood field. fingers gripping the handle of your blade; how does one fight a giant? you hold your ground, boots leaving a deep print into the mud. a flock of birds flies high above you, altering the way the sun bears down on you. it shines right into your eye and the second it's gone, the giant is a foot lenght away from you, angrily raising his sword – ready to make you bleed —

but then his mountain-like body moves a step to the side, a force pushing him aside and away from you.

the prince.

your eyes widen and you try to pull him away from the giant but you're too late – his heavy hand does it for you and prince goes flying back; falling back onto his ass, groaning and moaning. you lock eyes with the bandit boss and clang! — the sound of his rusted sword colliding with your polished one reverberates throughout the whole forest. the entirety of this man's strength is making your knees buckle and he chuckles at you. another clang and then another; one right after the other. you don't stop; with taking big steps you force him to lose his edge of towering over you. another clang but this time you spin youself from under the impact, pulling your sword upwards and scoring a hit on the giant. red blooms from under his shirt but he's unrelenting. a swish and a clang and yet another clang - and you manage to trip your rival; he bares his back to you and is punished for it immediately. a strong swing of your blade tears into the skin of his neck, the red now pouring out. he falls to his knees, facing the prince. a growl leaves your lips when you raise your sword for the last time for today - it smashes through the thick pinkish meat of his neck once more and with that, you've beheaded exactly two men today.

a clap.

a clap is what brings your eyes up from the lifeless body laying dead on the ground.

"knew you could do it!" the clapping echoes in your ears; another bloody ball of spit leaves your mouth and you wipe the remains with the back of your hand. "jus' needed a bit of help at first, no big deal."

the eye roll you give him only irks him on. "all offense, i did not need your help, your highness."

"i don't know, definitely looked like you did, though. the sun seemed to be doing a number on you."

a few fast paced steps toward him make the corners of his lip pull up even higher. fuck, that's really beginning to get on your nerves.

"get up."

"nuh-uh."

...

"w- what do you mean 'nuh-uh'? get up, i'm taking you home."

"has anyone ever mentioned that you're very bossy?"

"has anyone ever mentioned that you're very irritating?"

"yes, many times actually." he says it like he takes pride in knowing that.

"that is not a good thing, you know."

"lay here with me a moment."

"are you fucking serious?"

his answer is a smile. FUCK.

"get. up."

"tell me your name and i will."

"this isn't a negotiation. get up."

"c'moooon."

"get the fuck up."

"you look really good from this angle, you know."

in one quick motion, the tip of your blade touches his jaw - the cold steel tilting up his head. his adam's apple bobs and the sharp edge slides an inch on his glassy skin. he would rather give up one of his precious balls than to admit that you do look a bit scary like this. but just a bit. it's the quiet anger in your eyes; he can see that you're holding yourself back. if he were anyone else, he'd surely be dead already. you're clenching your teeth, your jaw tensing. it's hot.

your burning eyes bore into his icy blue ones and a short breath of air escapes your nose. it's the twinkle in his eyes that's really pissing you off now. you're getting tired; this isn't a game. the tip of your blade presses more into his skin, making him back down with a breathy chuckle. he thinks you won't hurt him.

oh, but you will.

the cold blade sinks half an inch into his neck, stopping when a drop of blood dribbles down it. the sun shines down on the warm liquid, making it appear lighter in tone than it actually is. it trickles down the prince's neck and straight onto his whiter than snow shirt. just a drop.

the prince holds his breath. a new kind of excitement running in his veins. blood rushing to... somewhere.

"up."

when all he does is blink up at you, you press the sharp blade deeper into the small wound, making him wince - a small ah-ahh leaving his pink lips.

"i will take you home now. understood," a final push. "your highness?"

the prince nods against your weapon; feeling his pants getting tighter and tigher by the second. he shakes his head to rid of these thoughts. you are his saviour, his angel, his knight. it is inappropriate.

to his surprise, you offer him a hand, which he so generously takes. the small and short-lived skin to skin contact making his crush only worse. pulling him up onto his feet he bumps into you, making him almost lose his balance if not for your hand in his. this is the same man from before? who was toying with his opponent? weird.

the prince clears his throat and refrains from commenting on the fact that your warm hand still sits in his. it takes you a second to realize and you pull away from him as if you just got burned. the prince wipes off the blood on his neck – the wound remaining a constant remainder of you. looking away, you sheathe your sword and step towards your awaiting horse. you also feel the need to clear your throat; a strange lump keeps forming in there and you don't really know why.

the prince follows you with quick steps and this time, to your surprise, he doesn't fight on the matter of going home. he lets you get on first and then with the help of your offered hand, he sits himself behind you – arms circling your armored waist. for safety purposes, of course.

with a shallow breath and a gentle shake of your head, you grab the reins – letting your noble steed know you're ready to go.

the ride to the castle is quiet (you figure it would be time for the prince's afternoon nap anyhow). birds chirp on the branches growing over your head, squirrels chase each other down the tree barks. the late afternoon sun is slowly starting to set, warming the back of the sleepy prince behind you. an unexpected weight rests itself against your shoulder and you try to glance at it – and it really is the sleepy prince. his eyes are closed, his long elegant white eyelashes lay against his skin. his cheek is completely smushed against your armor, both lips jutted out as if awaiting his fairytale kiss. he's kind of cute like this. when he's not being a dick.

a gentle smile graces your lips as you continue on your ride to the castle. upon arrival, you're met with the townsfolk's glares. understandable, considering you have a knocked out prince on your back.

"hey!" a smooth voice calls to you and you're met with another knight. he's beautiful.

he's stood by the castle gates, convering with another servant but seeing you he scraps his sentence and hastily makes his way over to you. he's holding his helm under his arm, his dark black hair gently blowing in the summery wind. his eyes are glued to the man behind you – you can see the worry swirling in them. and you can also see it disappear when he hears the prince snore. "is he sleeping?"

a sigh. "yeah."

"fuckin' christ. of course, he is." his eyes have now found yours and he's studying you. you're not from around here, at least not from this town. he reckons you're here for the money; he doesn't blame you. "thanks for bringing him back."

"sure."

"i'll get him inside and then i'll bring you the reward." he slightly shakes the snoring man but nothing.

your eyebrows shoot up. "the reward?"

"for bringing him back? the king put out a reward?" it's the knight's time to sigh. his big hands wrap around the prince's waist and he pulls him onto his shoulder. watching him getting manhandled like a doll is quite funny to you. the knight does the smallest jump in order to move the limp body into a more "comfortable" position before looking at you.

"oh... no need." you tell him.

"no? the king put it out, not me, you know."

"i know. just... buy the sleeping beauty a new fancy little outfit with it, why don't you?" you can't hide the small little smirk on your lips, imagining his reaction to your words.

the knight snorts quietly. somehow he already knows the prince will be asking about you the second he opens his eyes. he'll bombard the black haired knight with questions about you as if he'd know any better. he's already preparing himself for the headache he'll surely get.

you take one last look at the prince on the knight's shoulder and rein your horse away from the men, setting your mind on finding a place to stay.

this prince — this irritatingly beautiful boy with an even more irritating personality and an even more beautiful smile won't definitely haunt you for the rest of your life. he won't.

right?

#ari <3 #friends!!#my god and i'm actually crying #you're soooooo sweet #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #like if going insane over these two weren't enough #and now you #with this #what will u write on my gravestone now that u've killed me #wahhh #crying and laughing #love u lots #AND I MEAN THAT

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txemrn · 2 years ago

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ethan’s reaction to tatum getting up in the middle of the night to get water or something & then coming back & giving him a lil smooch on his forehead thinking he’s asleep? what about if it was the other way around? im in a fluffy sappy mood lol 💖

Mal! 💜 I adore you and your kindness and that sweet fluffy sappiness of yours! Thank you so much for all of the Asks that you have been sending out! They have been so much fun. Sending you major hugs... and a drabble that NO ONE asked for, that did NOT follow the directions (what else is new?). 😘

Word Count: ~1000

Summary: With baby Ramsey not sleeping through the night, Ethan and Tatum make a pact of who gets up with the little one.

Rating/Warning: teen; language; innuendos

AN: Huge thank you to my sweet, creative friend @sfb123 who helped me brainstorm banter! What is with us and Monday mornings? lol Love you! Our lovely broody doctor belongs to our friends at Pixelberry. Also, I haven't revealed Baby Ramsey's gender just yet, so if you see a random "he" or "she", don't get too excited. And last but not least: now that they're married, when they're being silly, Ethan and Tatum call each Mr. and Mrs. rather than "doctor".

~💜~

"Goodnight, my little vampire," Tatum whispers, a smirk hidden in her exhausted eyes. Ensuring that the mobile above the crib is set on a timer, she tiptoes out of the darkened nursery. Leaning her back against the closed door, she exhales a sigh of relief before returning to her bed.

Ethan and Tatum were lucky to have a baby that started sleeping through the night at ten weeks of age. However, a little regression happened this past week when their almost five-month old started cutting their first few teeth. The couple agreed there was no point in both of them getting up to soothe their little one; so they made a pact that whoever woke up first would tend to the baby. It was a great idea. In theory.

Tatum found herself alone, waking up every few hours for the past six days. She was extremely fatigued, and her nipples were sore from the cluster-feeding. Ethan, however, was sleeping like a baby–better than their actual baby. How the hell was he resting through their child's high pitched shrills for comfort?

As Tatum sneaks back into their master bedroom, she stares at her sleeping husband, his eyes peacefully closed, snuggly tucked under the covers.

And her eyebrows begin to furrow as her lips twist. Is he really asleep? Like, is he actually sleeping through all of this commotion?

Bullshit.

She carefully crawls between the sheets before leaning over to look at her quiet husband.

We'll just see about that...

"Are you awake?" Tatum barely whispers. He doesn't flinch, continuing to slumber. She sweetly presses her lips to his cheek before laying her head on his shoulder, cuddling against his still body. She runs her fingers across the musculature of his bare chest before undoing the drawstring of his pajama pants. But still, he remains motionless.

Oh, you are faking, you fake-ass faker…

Tatum scowls. She feels her pulse begin to race as she becomes more and more irritated by the minute. It was time to hit him where it hurt.

Let's see how well you sleep to this…

"Oh, baby," she mewls, "I don't know how we're gonna do this... with two babies in diapers in just a few short months."

"The fuck?"

Tatum feels the mattress dip next to her. She looks up to find a very stunned Ethan, anxiously pulling at his hair.

"Oh! Sweetheart," she feigns sincerity, sitting up in bed, "did I wake you up?"

"Tatum," he grabs her face tenderly, fear crashing into his eyes. "Are… are you really?"

Tatum shrugs before putting her fists on her hips. "Are you really fake sleeping so you don't have to get up with the baby?"

"Unbelievable," Ethan grunts, throwing himself back onto his pillow, turning his back to his wife.

"You know what? You're right, Ethan Ramsey," she snarls. "You are unbelievable." She roughly fluffs her pillow before throwing it down on the bed. Beyond angry, she begins to sniffle, turning her back to her husband.

Hearing her whimpers, Ethan glances over his shoulder to see her body tremble with each sob. He lets out a deep exhale before turning around to face Tatum. He clears his throat. "So… maybe I have been taking advantage of you, trying to get more sleep…"

Tatum turns around, the corner of her mouth turning up as she listens to her husband's attempt to apologize.

"But Tate," he scoffs, "what am i supposed to do?" He taps his chest, "You've got what the goods–"

"That's what the bottles are for, Rams–"

Suddenly they are silenced by the familiar scream of their tiny human, shrieking in the darkness. Ethan sighs, massaging his temple. "This doesn't last forever," he mumbles.

"This doesn't last forever," Tatum kindly grins, taking his hand and kissing the back of it. "Just hit the button with the picture of a bottle on it." Her words begin to slur as she relaxes, closing her eyes.

After a good twenty minutes, baby Ramsey finally settled down which finally settled down Tatum's mommy heart. Hearing Ethan's heavy steps coming back to the bedroom, she quickly shuts her eyes and pretends to be asleep.

Ethan crawls into bed and stares at his wife. And he snickers to himself. He brushes his lips across her forehead before whispering into her ear.

"I know you're awake."

Tatum remains still as Ethan raises an eyebrow, his eyes not leaving her still, peaceful body.

"You know how I know you're awake?"

Tatum remains silent, her eyes resting shut.

"Because you're not sawing logs." He notices a slight purse to her lips, trying to stifle her laughter. All of a sudden, Ethan lets out a giant snore, tickling his wife's sides.

She squeals, wildly kicking. She finally jolts up, grabbing her pillow and begins to playfully swat at her husband. "I… don't…. snore, you… asshole!"

Laughing uncontrollably, Ethan grabs a pillow to defend himself. "Now who's faking sleep."

Tatum stops, trying her best to look mad, but she can't help, but giggle.

"Do I know you? Or do I know you?" Ethan snickers as he fluffs up his side of the bed to go back to sleep. "You can't pull a fast one on me. I know when you're faking."

They both finally quiet down into comfortable silence as they readjust their bodies in bed, becoming more relaxed–that is until Tatum opens her mouth.

"You don't know when I fake an orgasm."

"Tatum Ramsey!" Ethan roars, "are you fucking kidding me right now?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "Wouldn't you like to know..."

Tatum suddenly yelps as Ethan grips his large hands around her hips, jerking her body underneath his. "Wrong answer, Mrs. Ramsey," he nuzzles his thick lips into her neck, eliciting soft giggles and moans from his wife.

She cradles his head in his arms, firmly tugging at his dark waves as her voice turns breathy, flirty. "What are you going to do about it, Mr. Ramsey?"

He lifts her leg around his own waist before giving her ass a swift spank. "I dare you to fake it this time."

~💜~

Tags (this is my new list as of 9/26; if you wish to be added/removed, let me know!):

PERMA

@21-wishes @alj4890 @angelasscribbles @ao719 @charlotteg234 @harleybeaumont @issabees @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nikirennie87 @peonierose @tessa-liam

ALL OPH

@alyshak92 @annfg8 @cariantha @lsvdw-blog @mvalentine @ofmischiefandmedicine @rookiemartin @starrystarrytrouble @youlookappropriate

#open heart drabble #choices open heart #open heart #choices oph #ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan x tatum #ethan ramsey x tatum erikson #tathan #baby ramsey

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