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cashmoneyyysstuff · 10 months ago

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déjà vu

déjà vu : a french term that translates to "already seen." It is a phenomenon where an individual feels a strong sense of familiarity or recognition with a current situation.

bnha chap. 362 n 403 spoilers ! childhood friends to lovers can you tell i'm inlove with this trope oooorrr…, angsty?? bittersweet hurt/comfort ?? fem reader, reader's height isn't specified but is shorter than katsuki's, reader gets a bit insecure but katsuki fixes that up rq, reader is very mushy n inlove with katsuki, (but aren't we all) katsuki loves reader very much in return

in his final moments, katsuki thinks of you.

he thinks about primary school. you’re both ten, double digits. foolishly believing you were all grown up. katsuki’s fingers are white and dry from cleaning up the chalkboard, since you guys were tasked for clean up duty today.

or at least, you were. but your classmate suddenly vanished without a word and katsuki, as nice and helpful as he was (to you, at least) decided to stay behind to help you, don’t ask him where your cleaning buddy went, he has absolutely no idea and has absolutely nothing to do with it. at all.

“ y’know—” he starts, soaking the soggy sponge into the water bucket next to him, then squeezing it out. “when we’re done with this stupid school stuff, i’ll go pro.” he states, slapping the sponge onto the board, creating a loud splat noise.

you, having heard this time and time before, simply look at him and smile, placing your classmates chairs on top of their desks row by row “mhm, i know !” you grin “ 'n you’ll be number one, right ?” you’re standing in between two desks, hands playing with your uniform skirt behind your back.

“hell yeah i will !” katsuki boasts, smirking. he scrubs at the board a little more vigorously.

“bad word !” you tease, giggling as you point at him “ 'm gonna tell miss you said a cuss word again !”

he huffs, turning around to scrunch his nose up and stick his tongue out at you, you stick yours out back playfully. “as if i care ! yer too much of a wuss to snitch on me anyways.”

“no I’m not, i’ll do it right now !” katsuki rolls his red eyes at you, returning to his task and wiping the board down in a zig zag motion. “ i don’t care” he reiterates.

you pout at his back and just then get an idea you’re sure will piss him off, a cat like grin pulls at your lips.

“okaaayy … then i’ll just tell your mom !” you sing, bursting into giggles when he swiftly turns around and waves the wet sponge in your direction. he’s too far to reach you but you dodge anyway, just to mess with him.

“no you won’t.”

“yeah, i will !” you counter, blowing a raspberry at him. you both break out into a fit of giggles when he aggressively dips the sponge into the water and flicks the droplets at you once more, before he decides to close the distance and chase you around your cramped little classroom growling and screaming, threatening you with the dirty sponge.

you’re squealing and giggling and laughing, trying to fend him off with a broom and even then, at ten. then when the concept of cherishing memories of the time you spend together wasn’t even an afterthought in his mind, katsuki remembers wishing he could stay with you like this forever.

when you’re both out of breath the classroom is just as messy—if not messier than it usually is. you give eachother a look then belly laugh some more.

you’re picking up chairs again and katsuki’s helping you, so it goes even faster. you don’t wanna go home because you won’t be seeing him anymore, but you have to admit your eager to finish and leave school.

katsuki’s back is to you on the second row and he can’t see you looking at him from the back row, he decides it’s time he says what he wanted to say before you got distracted. he clutches the legs of the chair he’s holding a little tighter.

“hey,” his voice comes suddenly in the quiet, it surprises you a little, you hum in response “ 'm really gonna go pro when we’re done with school, y’know.” he insisted.

you tilt your head wearily, looking at him with his back still turned to you. “yeah, i know.” you respond “you said that already.” you’re confused, he can’t hear the scrapping noise of the wooden chairs anymore, it’s annoyingly too quiet now.

“ you’re coming with me” he pauses, turning to you a little so you catch a peak of his quickly reddening face. it sounds like a statement but even then you know better. you don’t miss a beat, nodding furiously “uhuh, always !” his cheeks flare up more as he turns fully towards you. he walks over until the only thing separating you is the desk in between. he turns his back to you again to lean against the desk seperating you both.

“you’ll be with me, and we’ll be pro's together” he maintained. he feels his chest tighten when you offer him more of your pretty bright smiles and nods, you smile at him the way he knows you don’t with the other boys in class who are stupid enough to think they deserve even a second of your time and it makes him feel a little bit more confident as he speaks more clearly “a-and I’ll be number one, and you’ll be number two. but not behind me, with me, yknow ?” he feels stupid for having to explain himself but you don’t mind, as long as you can stay with katsuki you don’t mind which number you are. you move across the table so you can stand next to him. you nod and he let's out a little huff and a smile starts pulling at his mouth.

"a-and" he gulps " 'n then—i'll marry you."

it's quiet for just moment.

and then you register what he said and feel your entire body heat up.

"w-wha ?! " you sputter "marry me ?!" your wide eyes startle him as he glances at you but refuses to look over again. he's red to the tips of his ears, pulling at the bottom of his now longer tucked in shirt. despite the growing lump in his throat, he nods.

"mhm," he kicks at an eraser laying on the floor, the only noise heard coming from it hitting a wall a little further. you don't see where, you're still looking at him. " my ma says i can't do it now, since it's...illegal, or something." he scoffs dissaprovingly "b-but..when 'm older," he sucks in a breath, then suddenly turns to you causing you to sit up straighter in suprise, you feel your hands gripping the desk tighter and tighter as your face feels more and more on fire. "when i'm older—i'll do it. that way, none of those other losers will look at you."

he looks way more flustered than you but he's sitting up straight still, eyes determined and unwavering and it knocks the wind out of you, because for as long as you can remember katsuki's been the coolest.

there's absolutely no doubt in your mind he's embarrassed. if his face wasn't a dead give away, his posture and demeanor give it away just as much. you've known him for a long time now, since you were 6 years old and he had walked up to you. little newbie you, who had transferred in the middle of the school year and with nobody to play with. he was there, head held high with his friends in tow behind him, demanding to know what your quirk was and the rest was history.

katsuki persists even when he knows the odds are low, he perseveres and keeps kicking and punching and blowing up everything in his path where anyone else would've given up while they had the chance. like when he fought against those 4th graders while you were all still only in 2nd grade. his face was all messed up and he had a nosebleed, but he ended up winning. because he swore he would keep winning.

'cus that's what heroes do.'

katsuki fights and keeps fighting even if you think the odds are low, because he doesn't. to him, there's absolutely no doubt in his mind he'd win. even here, when he isn't fighting, instead confessing to you. he's red-faced, embarrassed out of his mind and nervous, but his shoulders are squared and there's no doubt in his eyes after he had just told you he would marry you. when he thought about being older, he thought about you being there with him.

and even after what you'd heard all you can think is that your katsuki is so cool.

so with a bright smile, bright eyes and the summer sun slowly setting in your empty little cramped classroom, you give him your response.

"mhm ! "

katsuki thinks about his last year of middle school.

today's the last day of your middle school life before you go off to high school and katsuki couldn't be happier to leave this shitty school. he's 15 now. older, but besides his features, remained the same (to you, at least) .

it's your last day and you finish it off with cleaning duty, ironically, and he remembers that day back in elementary. then proceeds to shake it off, hoping to shake off the embarrassing memories. but it doesn't seem to work because it feels like the universe is seriously fucking with him.

you're the one tasked with cleaning duty again and with your cleaning buddy, yet again, being nowhere to be found. katsuki yet again staying behind to help you out. and again, katsuki has absolutely no idea where your buddy went and has absolutely nothing to do with it. at all.

it shouldn't be anything new, he stays and helps, albeit begrudingly, every time you have cleaning duty. but it feels different somehow. katsuki chalks it up to it being the end of the year.

the only difference from last time is you actually finish in record time. usually, that would've been great news, less time at school and even more free time katsuki can spend with you.

but you're quiet today.

you usually chat his ear off, and just because it's you, he chat's right back. wether you're messing around teasing each other or just talking about your day at school or who's house you're staying over at for the afternoon and which movie you're watching, you're always talking about something. it's comforting where he'd usually think it to be annoying with anyone else. but they aren't you.

and he doesn't like it.

when you finish you reach for your bag sitting neatly on top of your desk but katsuki stops you, grabbing your wrist. the feel of your soft skin has him involentarily flushing lightly, he ignores it in favor of squeezing your wrist when you don't immediately look back at him.

"what's up with you ?" he questioned gruffly. it comes out harsh, but that's not what you hear. you've known katsuki for a long time, after all. he's worried, you can tell. his words are rough around the edges but his eyes are soft, filled with care and the soft stroke of his thumb against you skin sends slight shivers down your spine when you turn to look at him shyly.

you open your mouth to deny him, but he can practically read your mind "don't give me that 'nothinngg' bullshit" your nose scrunches at the way his voice raises in pitch as he crudely mimicks you and a little smirk pulls at his face for only a moment before it falls again " don't go lyin' to me. know i hate that shit" he rasped.

you sigh, he's known you just as long as you'd known him after all.

you lean against your desk and he copies you, your shoulders brushing as he scoots himself a little closer to you. you jump up a little to sit on your desk, you're the same height as him like this. he scoots a little closer and turns to look at you, placing his hands on your desk to lean on it, fingers inches away from yours.

"i just—" you faltered "this our last day of school. when the day is over we'll be high schoolers." you stated. katsuki scoffs jokingly and leans a bit closer to you "what ? you tellin' me youre gonna miss this dump ? last i heard, you were the first one who wanted to leave so you wouldn't have to deal with mr. nakamura anymore." he jests, trying to lighten the mood as best he could, the worry in his eyes still shining bright. a smile pulls at the corner of his lips when you huff out a little giggle.

"yeah well, i won't be missing mr. nakamura. or his stupid tests" you pretend to shiver as you cringe "at all." katsuki let's out a cute chuckle. he's like a magnet, you feel yourself scooting closer to where he's leaning next to you, like you're being pulled closer to him, you don't mind. you never mind being close to katsuki.

"but..?" he coaxed, knowing that wasn't all you wanted to say.

"but.." you continue "but i'll miss this, yknow ? like—the school itself wasn't..the best" katsuki scoffs in response but doesn't interrupt "the teachers weren't either. but—i dunno—this. being here." you confess, you stare down at your shoes as you kicks your legs aimlessly into the air " we've spent such a long time here, and now we're leaving. we went from being the youngest—to the oldest, to going back to being the youngest again, and that in itself isn't the problem.."

"then what is ?" he raises a brow.

"we're gonna be in a completely different school, with completely different people—"

"but we'll be together." he interrupts "you said you wanted to go to ua too" you said you were gonna stay with me is what he wants to say, but it's childish and that wouldn't be fair to you.

"of course, i still do !" you reassure "but—there'll be tons of new, strong, cool people at ua.."

"maybe even stronger and cooler than me.." you trail off. you don't need to say more for katsuki to understand what you mean and it pissed him off.

"shut up." he growls.

"katsuki—"

"no. shut the fuck up." he's right in front of you before you can blink. you reflexively part your legs and he takes the opportunity to stand even closer to you, right in your space. you feel your cheeks warm at the proximity, you’re close enough to see it's apparently affecting him too, his cheeks turning a cute pink but as stubborn as your katsuki is he doesn't budge. as usual.

you don't exactly know what you and katsuki are. you know you like him, you know you have for a long time. and you'd like to believe he likes you too. he doesn't act the way he does with you the way he does with his other friends (or his lackeys as he calls them, you're the only one he openly calls his friend) but he doesn't really have anyone close to him besides you, so you don't know if he'd act this way with someone else.

the thought leaves a nasty taste in your mouth, so you decide to focus on something else. something else being katsuki, of course, he's all up in your space. his gaze not allowing you to look or even think about anything else but him.

"who i meet at ua doesn't fuckin' matter, they'll all be weaksauce compared to me anyway" he states smugly, causing you to huff out a laugh again " i don't care if theyre cool, or strong" his nose scrunches up in disgust as he quips venomously "i don't care about any of that—and i don't hang out with you because of that either—i fuckin' care about you because you're you."

your heart stutters.

" what, you think i hang out witcha because of superficial shit like that ? you mockin' me or something ?"

"no, no course not !" you insist, shaking your head.

" exactly, so don't..." he huffs, looking away from you towards the ground, there's a random eraser lying on the ground and he kicks it "don't go saying dumb shit like that."

"i don't waste my time with just anyone, 's why i'm wastin' it with your ass" he jokes, chuckling when you squeeze his nose in response. supressing a smile you whine at him when he leans forward to bite yours.

"katsuki, you're gross !" you giggle as you push at his face, he smiles lightly at the sound of your laughter, one of his favorite sounds. "ya started it." he disputes weakly, his smile turning into a smirk when you groan and then it falls again as he looks at you seriously.

" but seriously" he starts "i mean it, y'know. don't just say shit to say it"

"i know" you smile. he grunts in acknowledgement then continues.

"i don't care about how cool those future ua asshats are gonna be. you're different, you're not like that—i mean—that's not what i look at—what i see with you" he fumbles around for his words and groans, slamming his forehead against your shoulder. you're used to katsuki being physical, but that was usually when he was being annoying, pinching and prodding and biting at you. he's rarely ever this affectionate. it's different, but nice..really nice, so you savor it while you can. your fingers twitch a little closer to his and you decide to take a leap of faith, placing your hands ontop of his. he flinches and you're about to pull back when he grips your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. you feel him huff into your uniform. his hair tickles as he shuffles his head deeper inside your shoulder.

"you're not like those other losers, y'not like anyone" he explains "you're—when you're around it's like you're glowing. you're bright and when you talk, everyone sorta—gets pulled towards you like you're some typa magnet" his hands get warmer against yours as he speaks. you're surprised that he sees you this way, when that's practically the same way you see him.

" you pull people in so easily, and it pisses me off that you don't realise it. you are strong, and cool and everything else but that's not all you are. s'not all i care about."

"you're annoying. and whiney. extremely annoying, actually" he chuckles, and you pull at his ear "but—" he continues "but you're..fun to be around or whatever, wouldn't be around you otherwise. you're too fuckin' nice and your taste in music isn't bad" katsuki grumbles.

he wants to say more, so much more. he wants to say he thinks the way you immerse yourself when you're watching a movie together is adorable. the way you hold yourself back from commenting during the movie so as not to be annoying, even thought he could listen to you naming street signs and never get bored. the way your eyes light up when you get your grade back for a test you had studied your ass off for, when you come to him showing off your hard work it makes him want to hold you and never let go. he wants to say the way you're not scared to banter and bicker with him, the way your nose scrunches up when you try to hold in your laughter when he passes you a crudely drawn picture of your homeroom teacher, the way you smile at him whenever you see him, whenever he shares his umbrella or your lunches even though you have your own and he has his, makes him want to kiss you silly.

he wants to say all this and more, but he knows the words won't come out right, they never do. but somehow you understand and it's another thing he admires—that he loves about you.

"i...didn't know you felt that way" is all you can quietly muster up. you're cute, he feels you squeezing his hands a little tighter " yeah you didn't, cus i didn't tell you" he ribbed. you huff out a 'dont be annoying" gruffly and he chuckles. the asshole.

your asshole, though, your heart decides.

you're both quiet, everything is quiet and you're happy, reassured. you'd be happy if this is where the conversation ended but katsuki never fails to surprise you today it seemed.

" 'sides" he squeezes your hands tighter "i promised you i'd marry you didn't i ? how can i do that if i'm not around you, hah ?"

you're heart skips approximately three beats at the memory of his promise and you lean back to look at his fully red cheeks and his fleeing eyes.

"you still remember that ?" you ask incredulously. he rolls his eyes but you can tell it's simply to save face as he responds " of course i do. wasn't that long ago."

"but—we were like—ten when that happened. "

"so ?" he responds simply "doesn't change nothin'. i told you, i don't say shit to just say it."

you're flustered and so utterly confused, but there's a happy feeling bubbling in your stomach at his words " but we're not even dating !"

"we're not ?" of course not , he knows he hadn't properly asked you to be his girlfriend. but he figured if he talked about the memory that seemed to refuse being pushed aside, he could casually sneak by what he was too embarrassed to ask. but of course, you never make it easy for him.

"no, we aren't" you pout, crossing your arms at him. he grumbles, reaching to pull your arms away from your chest but you're stubborn, he was right about you being extremely annoying. "cut that out," he hissed.

"mm-mm ! " you shake your head "you can't just decide we're together. i didn't even know you liked me like that.." you trail off shyly. katsuki looks utterly baffled "hah?! whaddya mean you didn't know ? you don't see me actin' like this with anyone else do you ?"

"that's cus you're mean to everyone else !" you choked out, puffing your cheeks out at him.

"well yeah ! but—that's the thing, i'm not mean to you !" he defends, faltering when you raise a brow at him "fuck off, m'not that mean ! i'm just messing with you !" he rebutted. you simply roll your eyes at him and after a moment he sighs.

"fine" he concedes "i should've told you i liked you, i don't just decide that i want you to be my girlfriend when it's convenient for me or something" he keeps quiet about how you could of also told him you liked him as well for now, for fear of you getting moody at him again.

you still look away from him and he groans "hey c'mon, look at me." he utters sincerely. after a minute, you offer him a glance and he takes his opportunity, turning your face towards him, holding back a grin when he feels how warm your cheeks are.

"do you...wanna be my girlfriend ?" he stammers, looking at you with his red cheeks and bashful red eyes, and yet his gaze doesn't falter.

so cool.

it's your last day of middle school, your last day before you go off to a different school with different people. but with your katsuki by your side, and that's all that matters to you.

and with a bright smile, bright eyes and the summer sun slowly setting in your empty classroom, you give him your response by pressing your lips to his softly.

katsuki thinks about the night before today, when you'd knocked at his door in the dead of night.

usually, on any other day, he'd have scolded you for being up so late but would've ended up letting you in anyway. but lately, things hadn't been as they had been before..everything happened. and he could tell you were upset, so he simply let you in without a word.

you take the liberty of laying down in his bed like you used to back at his house and back at the dorms. he doesn't mind. it feels familiar, comforting.

he lies down next to you and you immediately latch onto him, seeking his warmth. with your head in his chest, you hold onto him tightly, like he'll dissapear if you don't. he clings to you just as tightly.

"what's up with you ?" he mumbles sleepily, softer than when he would've if he were more awake, but still focusing all of his attention onto you.

he feels you shake against his chest "jus' wanted to be wif you" he hears you mumbles. he presses his lips to the top of your head, pressing a sweet little kiss onto it as you breathe "you know that's bullshit." he reprimands, he feels you squeeze him tighter. he squeezes your waist twice, his warm hands running up and down your sides "c'mon, talk to me" he prodded

you look up at him and he looks down at you. your eyes are glossy, he can tell even in the dark and he's sure you were crying a little. his theory is confirmed when he hears you let out a little sniffle, his heart breaks at the sound. his heart breaks even more when you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping at the front of his shirt.

"baby," he pleads softly, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, mouth and cheeks when you whine. "tell me what's bothering you, yeah ?"

"m'just—you're gonna be fighting tomorrow, and we all are and i know you're strong but you'll be in the front lines against him" you blubbered, you hiccup as tears roll down your cheeks " and i know you're strong. but katsu, i can't—" you gasp. he shushes you softly, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips. he knows what you're gonna say, he knows you're worried. he's known you for so long after all.

he hated himself the day he woke up after the first war. when he woke up to you crying at his side, with you yourself still being injured. he hates how much he worried you that day and he knows that the fleeting glances you give him whenever you have a briefing with the pro's, the way you stare off at nothing whenever you catch a glimpse of his scars, are all out of worry for him. he did the same after he had found out you had also been heavily injured during the brawl, so he can't say he wouldn't do the same way.

"baby, babe—look at me" he intones softly, grabbing onto your tear stained cheeks to get you to look at him, he's close so he's sure you can see him despite the darkness. he can't help pressing another kiss to your lips " nothing's gonna happen, okay ?" he reassures, rubbing your cheek softly.

"i can't see you like that again, katsuki. i just can't" you whimper, leaning into his hand.

"you won't, promise you won't." he vows. he knows you're even more worried because you'll both be in different areas and he hates he won't be able to keep his eye on you. but you're strong and cool and everything else, so he trusts you'll be okay "i need you to trust me"

"i do" you sniffle, taking a deep breath "i do trust you, but i just—don't wanna see you get hurt, kacchan"

he sighs softly, staring at you lovingly as he pulls you towards his chest. you nuzzle against him and he presses his mouth to the side of your head. "i can't promise i won't be gettin' hurt, s'gonna happen on the job" he says carefully, rubbing your back "but i promise i'll always come back to you. no matter how fucked up i get, i'll win. for you." he declares, feeling you shove your head deeper against his shoulder.

you remember how despite getting extremely injured by shigaraki, he recovered in record time. it seemed nothing could stop your boyfriend from proving to the world he was the best. because katsuki fights and keeps fighting even if you think the odds are low, because he doesn't. because to him, there's absolutely no doubt in his mind he'll win.

and despite the worry and the fear gnawing at you, you can't help but think your katsuki is so fucking cool.

so you nod against his shoulder and he feels the collar of his shirt grow wet, but he doesn't mind as your grip on him loosens lightly until you can feel yourself falling asleep.

before you fall though, you hear katsuki speak.

"besides, i promised you i'd marry you didn't i ?"

he feels you smile into his neck, and you give him your response by happily nodding into his shoulder with a hum.

in his final moments, katsuki thinks of you.

he thinks of the promises he's made. he thinks of the promise he made to his old hag to not cause you, such a sweet girl, too much trouble. he remembers the promise he made to his old man to stay safe while he went out on patrol and when he'd fight against shigaraki for the second time. he remembers the promise he made to himself to get his limited edition all might card signed one day. and he remembers the promise he'd made when he said he'd always, always come back to you.

and he remembers the promise he'd made to marry you. the promise that you both would be together and none of the other losers would look at you.

so when he awakens, katsuki doesn't bother to ask why or how.

he simply fights and keeps fighting, so he can win, no matter how fucked up he gets.

and always, always come back to you.

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spideyhexx · 21 days ago

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oct. 22nd - royal reckoning

Prince!Billy Bonney x Village!FemaleReader

mdni!!! wc; 4.6k cw; virginity loss, p in v, angst

kinktober 2024 masterlist

a/n; this was a concept we talked about a little while back and it deserved to be explored in a longer fic so enjoy :) ALSO THE BOLDED ITALICS ARE FLASHBACKS SORTA

The grassy fields leading ahead to your cottage do nothing to soothe Billy’s hammering heart. His boots hit the ground with soft thuds, as though he is trying to be stealthy. There’s no need for quiet. The fields are completely empty save for the occasional wandering little animal. He spots a bunny and smiles to himself, his hand subconsciously gripping to the hilt of his dagger tucked into a leather sheath at his belt as he treks on.

The sun is set, casting a dark glaze of moonlight over the land and although the expanse of the fields could prove daunting and hard to navigate for some, for Billy it was pure ease.

He’s walked through these plains so many times, he’s sure his feet have hit the same dirt, have brushed past the grass strands that are children to the one’s he past before. Often times, he surveys the moon, notes the phase it’s in and wonders if She recognizes him unlike someone else. She must, he thinks, staring up at the bright crescent moon. She must know me.

He’s overcome by the gesture of her all-knowingness that he almost trips over a rock embedded in the dirt. Billy catches himself before he can fall, then looks back at the rock, using the toe of his boot to push into the dirt and kick the rock out of it’s home. Then he feels bad for it and puts it back.

When your cottage begins to come into view, his breath quickens and he breathes in once, then twice deeply.

Billy grew up out in the fields near the kingdom’s village until he turned 10. He lived in a small farmhouse with only one room, but it was the home he loved. Then his life completely turned.

The King took his mother as his wife after seeing her in the village, her beauty stunning him so much, that it warranted a marriage. It was unbecoming for a King to choose a villager as his wife, but the ceremony commenced nonetheless. And Billy was whisked away from his life completely, never to see you again.

Before getting too close to the cottage, Billy does what does every night he visits, repeating the number in his head, 57. It’s his 57th visit tonight to see the lovely village girl that is you, always dressed in warm browns and earthly oranges, always a tad dirty because you take your baths late at night.

He learned it because he stayed later than he meant to just a week ago. You flushed telling him you needed to bathe and you did not want him to sit around and wait for you. But he swore to you he would. Billy would wait for ages, it seems.

The night wind rushes his face, hitting his cheeks and his nose in it’s cold. Billy says a thank you in his head to it.

His boots miss the dirt the moment they step the broken up stone path that leads your cottage. Lights illuminate through your windows so he knows you’re awake, not that he ever expected you to be asleep.

Billy stops in front of your old wooden door, the handle is rusted, and he had promised you he would do something about it only for you to say you knew how to handle rusty doorknobs, as though it was a common occurrence. It made him laugh.

His hand raises and he swallows hard, his knuckles brushing to the wood before he knocks.

Three times.

Scuffling and the sound of a pot meets his ears and Billy can’t help the warm smile that graces his lips. He leans to the doorway, setting a hand on his belt just in time for the door to open.

You slowly forgot things about him. Sure, he was the prince, and you always knew that, but Billy rarely left castle grounds (an order implemented by his stepfather The King, supposedly for his safety). So you, the lovely village girl he liked playing in the mud with never got to see him grow up into the man he is now.

A few months ago, Billy found a way out of the castle gates. And since has journeyed out into the fields and nature around, to get a moment’s peace before returning. Sometimes he thought about running away completely, but then he would be leaving his poor mother and little brother. He thought about taking them with him too, but Billy knew his mother would never agree to such a thing.

So instead, he spent whatever few hours he could sneak away outside, relishing in the small taste of freedom.

You’re there, in your modest and simple dark orange dress, an apron over the skirt and your sleeves rolled up. Billy notes that you’re a little sweaty and he can see the fire roaring in your hearth.

“Henry, you’re early today,” you greet him with a pant and a grin, swiping your wrist over your forehead to get some sweat at bay.

He remembered you. One night, he found himself walking towards your cottage. He knew the way there like he had seen you just yesterday.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Billy expected you to recognize him. When you did not, he got cold feet.

Called himself Henry, an old family name, and pretended to be a wandering stranger. He prayed that you somehow just put the pieces together so that by his second visit, you would point it out, but you don’t. And Billy gets wrapped up in being with you, getting to know you now and not just the you that he had remembered, the 10-year-old girl that loved kites and hated fruit.

“Ah, yeah. ‘Spose I couldn’t miss your cookin’ this time,” Billy says, his heart settling into a calmness that he knows won’t last long. It never does around you. He taps his fingers to his belt as you roll your eyes at his implicated complement.

“Well, there’s enough stew for you, so grab a bowl and pour it yourself, I’m tired.”

He chuckles and walks into your home, shutting the door behind him and latching it up. In truth, he was not hungry. The dinner at the castle was plentiful and Billy chastiszes himself for indulging in it when your homecooked stew was better than anything else he could eat at home.

Home.

“You’re tired? I don’t want to bother,” Billy says in a softer tone, watching you wipe the sweat from your face with an old rag as his hands touch to one of the clean bowls on your table.

“Nonsense. You never bother me, Henry,” you tell him, like it’s ridiculous of him to even wonder.

Henry. The name bites at him like a venomous snake, a poison that’s slowly reaching it’s way to his heart. Soon enough it would kill him.

He spends his days figuring out answers to questions you may ask about his life, but truly, he fibs small. Besides the big thing.

Otherwise, he tells you he comes from little money, loves to read adventure books and tall tales, and imagines himself as the hero or sometimes the morally corrupt protagonist. That he wishes deeply for a dog. He loves carrots but not tomatoes. All truths. Billy tells you that he wants to travel and live out in the woods, and that’s why he rarely visits in the day. His lonesome is important to him. And you’re busy anyway, it’s easier to see you at night.

He could see the skeptical look in your eye when he had to explain this, but you move on. It aches in his heart, but the more he spends time with you, he forgets himself anyway, and that’s what he longed for. To forget about Prince William Antrim. Until the reminder of sleep comes about and he has to leave your bed and make the walk back to the castle.

Out there with you, he’s Billy. It’s a shame he cannot say it.

Billy sits with his stew while you preemptively cool yourself down. You open a window to let the breeze fly in and a sigh of relief leaves your lips. If Billy tilts his head a little, he can see the moon poking Her gaze through the window. He imagines She is saying hello to him. Hello to you, maybe whispering in your ear, ‘It’s Billy! It’s Billy boy!’.

But after 57 visits, Billy’s lost complete hope that you know it’s him. You don’t. That’s the fact of this entire debacle.

He pushes it out of his head when you turn back to him, “The stew up to your standards?”

Billy takes a hefty bite and makes an overexaggerated face, like the food is truly orgasmic and in some ways it is. But he only does it to hear your laugh, which sounds throughout the small room.

“Alright, alright, good to know,” you get your words out through your laughter, then neatly fold the rag you had been using to rid yourself of the dampness on your face.

“You feelin’ okay? It’s cold out and you’re sweatin’,” Billy says. He can’t help but worry. He knows all too well how easy it is for people to get sick out here.

“Yeah, I was leaning too close to the fire making the stew, that’s all.”

He raises his brow, taking another spoonful into his mouth and contemplating your words, “Now, I’m no cooking expert, but maybe you shouldn’t lean too close to the fire, sweet.”

“Oh, hush. I won’t fall in. I promise you.”

You cross the room, bringing yourself closer to him. Billy can’t explain it, but you move so effortlessly. He could easily imagine you in one of the royal ballgowns his mother and step-cousins wear and all the ladies in waiting. You would glide on the ballroom floor with the same amount of ease you walk through your small cottage in. His heart would flutter all the same and his cheeks would tinge with red every time. Just like know.

You perch yourself on his knee as he takes a small bite of stew and your hands find their way to his belt, skimming the top of it. His breath is deeper, but he pretends to not be affected. The last two or so weeks have been more intimate than he could imagine.

He kissed your lips for the first time on the haybale out in your barn and for those few seconds, he saw the life he feels he should have had. The one where he grew up at your side and asked you to marry him once the two of you were old enough. The one that lived in this little cottage with you and worked as a farmer. He felt it all flash in his mind as he kissed your lips and your hands touched his body, but the moment you pulled away, it was gone.

Your hand stops at his dagger, which you slowly pull from his sheath, to study the hilt. “Don’t think I’ve seen you with this one before.”

Billy panics. The hilt of that dagger was by far a little more intricate than the one he usually brought with him. A mistake on his part for not switching out the blades.

“It looks…expensive,” you mumble, your tone closer to a tease rather than speculative.

“I stole it,” he blurts out.

Your eyes find his, then return to the dagger as you trace the detailing, “Stole it? Little outlaw now, are ya, Henry?”

You nudge your elbow into him in jest and slip the dagger back into his sheath as he chuckles. It’s a nervous one, though you don’t seem to pick up on that face. He rubs his thumb into your knee, a soothing gesture more to calm himself. He almost gets distracted, wanting to kneel right there and kiss your knee.

Billy finds himself asking, “You don’t care that I stole it?” Lies.

“No,” you speak quiet, your hand tracing his hair at his temple and smoothing it back, “I see no harm in stealing if it’s from the rich. They already fuck us over enough. All King Antrim’s thought, I tell ya.”

He blinks at you but nods in response, quelling his expression to a neutral territory. In his nights with you here, you scarcely have mentioned his step-father. But it’s been quite a while since the topic came up and it shot a bolt of nerves through him.

It’s a miracle that you don’t dwell on the subject.

“What did you do today?”

Billy hums at your question and leans his head more into your head, his hand tugging at your knee over your thick dress to bring you more into his lap. “I hunted…did fairly well. Though it got too cold…made sure to rest some so I could come see you.”

Billy did go hunting. There was a small section of forest on castle grounds that he went on hunting parties with, though they were much fancier than what you might be picturing.

“Mm, ever the charmer,” you mumble.

“I need to be,” he says, with more conviction than he thought he might have. His hand moves up to cup your face, “You…you’re like the stars…and I think…the stars need to be earned and…charmed and…just…given all from man.”

Billy remembers when he had his first crush after becoming Prince. There was a daughter of a high lord that he took a liking too. He would write poetry for her and speak to her in flowery language but she never understood it. Called him odd. But he could speak his oddness to you and you would always look at him like he created the entire world. Like the words he was speaking were words you’ve never heard before and you were utterly fascinated.

Your eyes tell him this now. You let out a breath, “You are so unlike any other I’ve met.”

Billy warms inside and he brings your head closer until his forehead is pressed to yours. His breath ghosts your lips and he lets his nose get smushed, “You’re all I would like to know.”

Frantic yet full of deep love movements are what gets you to your bed with Billy above you. His lips have not been able to leave your body since he uttered his words. He kisses your cheeks and your brow bone. The crease of your forehead and the crown of your head. His lips make their presence down the curve of your jaw all the way to your neck, his large hands holding your sides as your own thread in his hair.

Billy wishes he could speak a symphony to you in the moment, but he converses with his mouth. He groans at the tight strings of your bodice, as his lips kiss your collarbone and to the top of your breasts. His impatience makes you smile beyond what you thought you your lips could ever reach. You work on the ties as his mouth tries to dig down to the valley of your breasts.

Once it’s undone, Billy helps you slip off the shoulders of your dress and tug it down till it’s pooled around your waist. He hesitates on taking your undershirt off until you tell him four times you’re sure.

“I’ve never done this,” he mutters between your breasts, making himself a new home right there.

“Neither have I.”

The thought comforts him and he nods. Billy forgets the moon’s call as a breeze hits the both of you because you’re so warm. His vest and shirt are off within a couple of seconds as his mouth acquaints itself with your breasts, his tongue swirling to your nipple and mumbling to your skin how pretty you are.

He strains hard against his trousers, rutting to your thigh for the little bit of relief it provides. Billy’s touched himself before, he’s done as much as that, but nothing else besides miscellaneous kisses with the daughters of his kitchen or stable staff.

Billy’s read a lot. A lot of tales of the desires of the flesh and indulgences one can have with it. He’s seen it with his own eyes with his step-father, but the passions he’s read about and truly otherworldly nature of the act itself, in his opinion, was something that he knew he would save for love.

The love he feels now as your hands caress over the front of his trousers, desperately pulling him into you, wanting him to be just as naked you’re beginning to get, that’s right. That’s the deep pit in his stomach and the thrumming in his head that he knows he’s supposed to feel. The way you’re looking at him as though he’s the only person to exist, like he is the world you want, it sets him ablaze in all aspects of his life. Mentally. Physically. Every part of himself.

When he gets you fully naked beneath him, Billy has to sit back and admire you. He knows you embarrass easy so he coos, “No, darlin’, no…you…you’re unbelievable that’s all…I…you’re beautiful.”

His hand catches your chin and he pecks at your lips, his smile easy and comforting and the one you give him back is effervescent.

“You’re too clothed,” you pout to him and he lets himself relax with a chuckle, leaning himself back over you and letting you work on his trousers, until he can push them down along with his underpants.

Billy lets you take him in. He’s fully hard. Fully aching for you. Fully wanting to feel the love and desperate warmth you have to give him and he’ll give you his all back, he promises it silently.

A lot of small kisses fall to your face as he positions himself, bring your legs up to his hips. You smooth his hair back and let his forehead find yours.

“You’ve really charmed the stars out of me.”

Billy chuckles and shakes his head a bit, leaving a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth, “The stars will never leave you, my darlin’. Never.”

Life is forgotten when he sinks into you. No time to think things through more when he’s eased into your cunt and buried his face into your hair, breathing in you like he’s about to take his last breath.

Billy feels his approaching release too soon but holds off all he can as you adjust to him, your breaths hard and strained, but shrouded in as much overwhelmed feelings as he’s experiencing.

The thud of your heartbeat enlightens him more than he realizes in the moment. You’re alive. You’re here. He’s alive. He’s here. He’s him and you’re you and nothing could amount to the sheer content he feels when he can start to rock his hips into you.

The stretch aches you, he knows, so he he goes slow, bringing his cursed mouth to your ear and muttering almost nonstop, “lovely…lovely darlin’...everythin’ I feel right now is for you…oh fuck, it’s for you…”

Billy’s distraught when you tell him you love him. The words slip through your mouth like they’re meant to be there and meant to be directed at him. He says it back to you in a strangled moan, trying his absolute hardest to not thrust any faster into you. The pace, while slow, is still enough, rocking your crickety bed and helping to spill moans form your moan as the initial uncomfortablness subsides.

“Sweet, please,” he mumbles to your ear, trailing his lips to yours so he can feel your noises and your breath and breathe it in. So he could give you his breath.

Billy is not sure if he can get you to finish, but he tries. He’s learned enough from his books to know to touch you, reaching his hand down to find and rub your clit, which elicits more pleasurable sounds from you.

“I love you, I love you, please,” Billy repeats it like it’s all he knows. And in this moment, it is all he knows.

You say it back through moans although it’s harder to speak as your body shakes and clings to him, but he doesn’t care to think it through as his cock buries into you, spilling every bit of himself he has to give. He feels you spasm against him and he splotches kisses your jaw, mumbling a thank you.

“I love you, Henry,” you whisper, rubbing your fingers through his sweaty hair.

Billy feels sick. Henry. Henry. Henry.

Everything crashes around him all at once and he feels tears brim at his eyes. His head lifts but he is not looking at you. You clock his tears and cup his face, much to dismay, but Billy feels too weak to push you away.

“What’s wrong?” You’re so concerned, it hurts.

Billy slips himself out of you with a heavy sigh and shakes his head, which temporarily rids his face of your hands. His body did not deserve you, he tells himself.

“I…,” he trails off. Not sure what he even wants to say.

“Henry. What’s wrong?” Your voice is more worried, your brow knit and your eyes starry. Emotionally starry. Scared.

Billy moves away from you before he could start crying and he hears you sit up in your bed, pulling the sheet over yourself to conceal your body. The moment is gone and the moon is screaming at him. Berating at him through the window.

He stares at Her crescent shape through the open window, ignoring the fact he’s completely naked still, and then quickly goes for his belt, opening the small pouch on the opposite side of where his dagger sits.

“Seriously, you’re worrying me what’s-”

“Please,” he interrupts.

Once he sees you close your mouth, he stands back up, his hand clasped around something and he sits back in bed. Billy is frozen. His muscles tightened and heavy like wood. It feels like a large stone is pressing in on his chest as his fingers shakily open up to reveal the small locket in his palm.

You’re confused at first. He expected that. But then you take a closer look at it, taking the metal in your hands and studying it. When you turn it over, he feels sick again.

Billy, your thumb rubs over the engraved name on the locket, your mouth opening, then closing in confusion, “I don’t understand what this is.”

You look back at him, then the locket, then return to his face in a double take.

The moon and the candles in your room illuminate him in a different light. Casting a glow so faint, it’s so easy you could have missed it.

“I don’t understand,” you whisper.

“I’m…,” he clears his throat. He wishes he was unable to meet your gaze, but he cannot look away from the woman he loves, “Billy…I’m Billy. Do you remember-”

“Of course I remember Billy, he’s the Prince now,” you rush out, your breath quickening.

“Yeah…the Prince,” he whispers back to you, “I’m Billy,” he repeats, his heart ripping in two at your expression. You’re bewildered. The moon has enlightened you, yet you seem to be finding it hard to believe.

“I still don’t understand, I-”

“I learned how to escape the castle grounds at night and I…I always remembered, how could I not? You were…you were the stars and-”

“Don’t say that now,” you interrupt him with your voice raising. You tighten the sheet to your body, suddenly feeling way too naked around him.

“Sweet, I…I thought you’d recognize me, I recognized you! I fuckin’ recognized you after over a decade and it…you didn’t…you didn’t even recognize me,” Billy defaltes as he continues to speak while you look at him aghast.

“Why should I? You were here one night then gone. Gone to be a Prince and the Prince never shows his face, how was I supposed to…I moved on. We were 10…you became a fucking prince Billy! That’s more of a life than this!”

“It’s not!”

Billy tries not to dwell on the part you mentioned about moving on. He doesn’t want to yell at you. His jaw tightens and he lets it clench, lets himself sit with the anger for a couple moments.

“You could be lying,” you say, but the fact he had the locket, the one you would know of considering you had the same one rested to nightstand with your own name engraved on it was enough. Your late mother bought them for the two of you for a holiday. When there was a little more money than usual.

“I’m not lying,” Billy tries to soften his tone, “I’m not. I’m Billy. I’m the Billy that rolled down the muddy hills with you and caught water spiders to throw at you and…ate all your apples because you hated them…and…fucked up your kite and made you a shitty new one. That’s me.”

A silent moment befalls the two of you where the only sound is the outside wind. It’s whispering to Billy. A mix of comforts and also ridiculing him for lying. He wants to keel over. Billy can sense your anger without looking at you, but you don't yell at him.

“Why? Why lie to me? I would’ve…if you told me, I would’ve kept the secret.”

Another crack in his fragile split heart emerges, “I…you didn’t…recognize me and I…I froze and…”

“You had so many opportunities to come clean,” your voice shakes as tears well to your eyes, “and now you tell me after we’ve…after we’ve…had one another? Henry…Billy…whoever the fuck you are…you are not…who I thought you were.”

He has no words to argue with you. Billy doesn’t bow his head in shame, he takes it head on, his eyes locked to yours as a few tears slip down your cheeks.

“I do…I do love you,” is what he decides to say.

You scoff at it. He knows you love him, but this is worse. You love him and he was himself in some vein, but the part of himself he absolutely hates is something you have yet to know. An unknown part of him that reeks with disdain and hatred and anger.

“Please, leave.”

Billy silently gathers his clothes and gets them on, but he can’t bring himself to leave. His legs feel like they’ll collapse, his head swimming in a fast current he can’t escape, he’s afraid he’ll drown.

“Sweet, just-”

“Billy,” you sniffle. Clutching the sheet so tight to yourself, you force yourself to look at him, “Don’t come back here. Ever.”

He nods. He hopes to the moon that you don’t mean those words, but you spit them with a bite that hurts his soul.

“I love you,” he tells you again. He’s not hoping to hear you say it back. But Billy needs you to hear him say it. That despite the fact of anything, he does love you.

He gets to your door. But stills.

His eyes squeeze shut and he swallows hard, shifting on his feet, “I never…ever…felt more myself than I did the days I’ve spent with you. You are…not of this world, sweet. And I…I will always long for…this time and…what I should have done. I am…deeply…sorry…can’t fix anythin’, but I’m so fuckin’ sorry…I..,” his voice cracks and he risks taking a glance at you, “I am in love with you…it’s set in my body for the rest of time.”

With one more glance over your being, he opens your door, and closes it behind him.

The cold air whips his face and holds him in an uncomfortable hug he can’t escape. The moon frowns at him and leaves his presence to comfort the lovely village girl he left.

Billy realizes he left his locket with you, but he does not hesitate to keep walking to the castle.

The locket can stay with you. It has his love, the true love, that he does not believe he deserves to give to you. At least the locket and the moon can remind you while he rots in his castle chambers.

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