#they just mean soooooo so much to me. this says NOTHING about me i promise

[starswallowingsea]

im vibrating with love for crazyb right now i am going to explode

[superblysubpar]

modern!husband!steve harrington x wife!you

2,603 words

warnings: so like, technically, you don't have to read "We'll Call It Love" , my modern steve series, BUT you're missing soooooo much that got these two idiots here, so I really encourage you to do so. This scene is so so so much more fun if you know all that led up to it, I promise. anyways: | alcohol mentions, slight descriptions of use by reader | smut (public - you get caught *kind of* / fingering / piv unprotected intercourse - creampie / wife,mom,breeding, all the kinks from one Mr. Harrington) - 18+ as always

a blurb for the "Trick or Treat, Freak?" event - don't forget to vote for tomorrow at the bottom of the fic!

A/N: I just wanted to say again, thanks for loving We'll Call It Love so much. I actually got to go see the band COIN last night, the music that inspired the fic, the screenplay, and just...wow. I don't have other words for it. Idk, feeling very sappy for all of you today and this story that means so much to me. Thanks for being here, it was fun to revisit these two 💛 and *now* I'm done with them.

Probably.

The day hadn’t been without its issues, but he’d expect nothing less, when it comes to the two of you.

First, there was Eddie’s girlfriend showing up in fake blood, late, covered in swatches of dark and gory fake gashes and goo all down her arms as she frantically rushed past him and shouted something about busy season and don’t worry, his bride was gonna look beautiful and not in a tragically haunting poetic way but in a romantic sunset kissed glowing kind of way.

Which, you did.

But then, there was an issue with the cake, which, wasn’t supposed to be a cake, but a bunch of peach pies. Robin and Nancy were whispering loud enough to bring him into the kitchen, both of their mouths snapped shut as Steve blinked at the largest solitary pie he’d ever seen. It was massive, comically so, and Robin was waving her hands at him, it’s going be fine spilling out of her lips that had just been freshly glossed for photos. Nancy was on the phone with a bakery and then Eddie was stumbling through the door shouting about canceling the order. He smiled at Steve and told him that you started crying which made him frown and start towards the direction Eddie had just come from, but his groomsman and your best man stopped him, assured him that then you started laughing, that you said your parents would have loved it.

Which, ultimately led to issue number three.

Robin had approached him slowly, fixing his tie, before she whispered that they couldn’t find you, but that there was a note, with his name on it. He had grabbed it with trembling fingers, only to find it didn’t say anything like sorry or I can’t do this, but a quote:

“I’ll have what she’s having.”

He rushed past Robin, shouted about being right back.

Steve found you on a balcony, which took a little bit of work, asking the front desk if anyone booked a room under Buttercup, or Allie, Kate, and ultimately Sally Albright. Then they wouldn’t give him the room number till he confirmed his name was Harry Albright, not Harry Burns. His breath caught in his chest when you turned to look at him, chin quivering and a quiet greeting for him before you started crying. It all ended alright, after you talked about your parents and him and all of it and he kissed you and made a joke about wedding curses. If seeing you in your dress before the ceremony already happened, where was the harm in a sunset balcony quickie?

You didn’t go for it that time, only grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room with you, asking if he was ready to get married.

Which he really fucking was.

The floor to ceiling windows overlooking the skyline had been good in theory, letting in the beautiful, breathtaking sunset as you said your vows. But they also let in the warmth, the room an oven, leading you to laughing during the ceremony and swiping at his temple with your handkerchief and Eddie fanning Robin while she officiated. And cried.

There was so much crying.

But it was perfect.

You were perfect.

“Sir?”

Steve blinked away from where he was watching you take pictures in the vintage photobooth, you, Robin, Nancy, and Eddie’s girlfriend were all crammed in, sitting on each other’s laps, to the attendant in front of him.

Perfect, but distracting.

“So sorry, what did you ask?”

The venue employee smiled, like he knew the look on Steve’s face well, and then he shook his head. “Nothing to apologize for, sir. I was just letting you know that all the gifts are put away and locked in the car downstairs as instructed by your wife. Anything else I can do for you?”

His wife.

Steve looked over at you again, sighing as you tilted your head back in a laugh at the images in Robin’s hand.

He smiled at the man in front of him and shook his hand, “No, thank you.”

You felt him before you saw him, or rather, smelt him.

Your body spun to find the source of the salty and fried scent to see Steve holding a container of fresh french fries and a smile and eyes that seemed to be perfectly made, and only for you.

“Hey Mrs. Harrington,” he kissed your cheek, lips lingered against your skin as he asked, “Hungry?”

“Starving,” you groaned, your body crumpled against his as you exchanged your glass of champagne for the fries you knew would end up being a great late night snack offered. Warmth filled your stomach at the sound of your new last name, like a lovesick idiot you swore you’d never be.

Steve lifted a fry to your mouth, eyes a deep burnt amber in the low reception lighting as he watched your lips part and steal the fry from between his fingers, his tongue with a mind of it’s own, swiping out over his bottom lip as yours brushed the pad of his thumb.

You snorted.

“You’re so easy, Harrington.”

Steve lifted the fries away from you, eyes glinting as you pouted and reached for them half-heartedly, content to just lean against his body instead as he joked, “Hey. We’re married. You have to be nice to me now.”

Warm breath hit his jaw as you huffed, “Well, if I knew that was the rule, I never would have said I do a few hours ago.”

A kiss was pressed to his neck despite your words, right against his two freckles, then a smile ghosted against his skin when you heard the low rumble in his chest.

Steve’s lips brushed your ear as he bent down, speaking softly, lowly, and sending the warmth between your stomach directly between your legs.

“Don’t start something you can’t handle, honey.”

Your head lifted, stares at one another challenging and hopelessly and sickeningly in love to anyone who was watching.

“Oh,” you laughed, quietly, leaned in to whisper against his lips, “I think I can handle you just fine, Mr. Harrington.”

He had you in the bathroom not even a minute later, one hand locking the door behind him and the other pressing over your mouth as you giggled.

Steve’s mouth was all over your neck as his hands found your hips, guiding you to the counter.

“You’re so beautiful,” words warm and sticky and sweet against your skin as your head fell back against his shoulder in a gasp when his lips found a new spot behind your ear. “Can’t believe I’m married to you. Can’t believe you said yes. Can’t believe you’re all-“

His hand smacked at your ass as he grabbed a fistful of it, scrunching up the fabric of your dress you could care less about now as he growled in your ear the word, “Mine.”

“Steve,” you hated how breathless you sounded, hated how he’d barely touched or kissed you and you were wrecked already, “Hurry.”

He whined into the crook of your neck, spun you and let his nose trace along the straps of your dress, across the lace covering your chest as his mouth followed, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Steve knelt, regretfully removing his lips from your skin so he could carefully lift your dress, handing it to you with a quiet, “Hold this, honey.”

He pressed a kiss to your check as you did what you were told, but then he got a proper look at you and your lip was captured between your teeth at his groan, from the way his hands ran through his hair.

“Fuck,” he sighed, as his finger trailed up your thigh and found custom, cream colored straps and shiny buckles and pretty lace you’d ordered just for him. “Look at you.”

“You like it?” The question answered by Steve’s own lip bitten raw, his fingers still roaming higher, up the sides of your cunt, already soaked.

“Baby,” Steve laughed, eyes cast down between your bodies, watching carefully as his fingers slipped beneath the wet lace. “Do I like it? I love it.”

“That’s,” your head fell back, exposing your neck his mouth was grateful for. Distracted by the way he dragged his fingers through you, swirled around your clit, the same way his tongue was against your throat. “Go-good.”

Steve pressed against your clit harder, humming against your skin where his mouth was still latched to when your body shook underneath him. Your thighs clamped around his hand, yours clutched at his shoulders with fistfuls of your dress still between your fingers.

He removed his fingers from you, quick to make work of his buckle and pants, aligning himself with you but hesitating just as his tip brushed against your entrance.

Steve looked up at you, under his lashes that cast shadows against pink cheeks dotted with freckles. He gazed at you with the kind of look that you imagined you gave a sunset. Admiring, awed, like you were taking in its beauty the first time every time. Like you knew your time with it might be fleeting, so you had to watch it every second so you didn't miss a single second of it.

He leaned in and let his lips brush over yours tenderly, deciding to take his time and forget the frantic pace you both had started with.

He murmured into your lips as they parted in a sigh beneath his kiss.

“I love you. So much. I think I’ve loved you since I saw you in that bar, I texted Robin about soul mates before I talked to you, I-“

You caught his top lip between yours, an over too quick kiss, but then you were speaking into the corner of his mouth, against his jaw.

“I love you too.”

Steve’s forehead knocked yours, your hips wiggled, making his dick twitch as you stared into each other’s eyes.

“Ready, Mrs. Harrington?”

The tip of your nose brushed his as your laugh bubbled out of you, voice all sarcastic and fond, “Ready? I’ve been ready, Steve. You’re the one taking his tim-ohmygod.”

Steve’s smug smirk twitched in front of you as he thrust into you while fake grumbling, “Me? How about you miss I’m gonna wait over a year to say I love-fuckyoufeelsogood…”

He rolled his hips, only getting deeper, and your thighs tightened on the outside of his, head thrown back against the mirror from the feeling of him inside you, which he followed. His lips skated over your cheek, your jaw, as he slowly pulled out of you and thrust back in.

Your mouth fell open with each drag against your walls that cling to him, that want him to stay there. A noise catches in the back of your throat every time he pushes into you, each time only harder and deeper as he babbled.

“Sorry, I wanted,” he grunted, mouth finding yours only to kiss you once and keep talking, “The first time I have sex with my wife to last, to linger, to-“

Your mouth captured his in a kiss this time, tugging on his bottom lip and gasping into his open mouth when he thrust faster, shallower, your name a begged breath between the two of you.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wait anymore,” you whimpered, your dress left your fingers so you could grip the back of his head, card your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and tug, “To finally have sex with my husband.”

Steve moaned at the word husband, twitching inside of you, which made you grin at the way his hips stuttered, at the way his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

“Yeah?” You gripped at the back of his head a little harder, knowing what each other liked now. He frantically pushed under the fallen dress to find your clit again with ease, trying to get the upper hand once more as you asked, “You like me calling you my husband, Steve?”

Your mouth brushed the apple of his cheek, it kissed his temple as he fell forward, thrusting faster and making quick figure eights against your nerves, gasping at your teasing.

“Wanna tell everyone I’m your wife? Tell ‘em I’m a Harrington?” Your stomach clenched at the thought too, at the pace which Steve slammed into you even harder, hips meeting in a filthy grind as your head knocked against the mirror. The thumps mingling with the sound of how you were coating him, all a little louder in the bathroom and only making you both a little more turned on.

His forehead pressed to yours as he nodded, lips of parted mouths catching every time he thrust. He moaned, he begged, “Yeah, yeah. Wanna tell them. Wanna…want…pregnant. Mine.”

Your back arched, hand searching until it found his, lacing your fingers together. His others grew sloppy against your clit, slipping over it as you nodded. Chest aching from his admission, from the way you sort of wanted it too, how it didn’t scare you as much anymore, not when it was him.

“Yeah?”

“Ye-yeah, fuck, honey, I can’t-“ Steve kissed you. Passionate and breath stealing as he held your lips to his like he’d wanted to all day. Your clasped hands hit the counter, the click of your rings together made you whine into his lips when they parted. You let him go, his name loud in the bathroom, echoing against tile and sure to be heard even on the moon as his hips stuttered when you clenched around him. Your stomach burned and your eyes blinked rapidly, sure you weren’t on the planet anymore from the amount of stars you could see as his warmth spilled into you.

It takes a second for you both to come back down to earth, for Steve to laugh, for you to press your hands to your cheeks as you looked down at the mess you’d made of yourselves.

Steve kissed at sweat kissed skin, tenderly cleaning you up as you joked with each other, sleepy eyelids and content smiles. Slow kisses that left you both sighing in between lingering touches that weren’t out of necessity, but just because you wanted to be touching.

Completely in love.

He helped you off of the counter and winced at the way your dress fell down all crinkled and obviously mussed. You shrugged before running a hand though his hair, messing it up even more than you already had, then you untied his tie and let it hang from around his neck saying something about it only being fair.

He grabbed your hand, fingers curled into yours as he kissed your knuckles and led you out of the bathroom.

Robin was the first to slow clap.

Your nose pressed to his shoulder, a groaned god dammit on your lips against his suit jacket.

Then Rocketman was blasted on the speakers, a loud “Annnnnnnd Buckley owes me one hundred dollars!” comes from Eddie at the bar, earning a smack to his chest from his girlfriend, which was nice, until she said “I get fifty of that and you know it.”

And it’s all fine, Steve doesn’t really care, because most of the guests are gone and you’re laughing and heading over to grab pie, flicking Eddie’s ear as you went.

Robin slid up next to Steve, shaking her head. “Wow. I really had faith in you Harrington. A bathroom? On your wedding night? I know you two are animals, but you couldn’t wait to have your wife in, oh, I don’t know, a private bedroom?”

Steve only smiled at the way Nancy handed you a water as you caught peach filling from your lip, while you played with the little ‘S’ dangling between your collarbones with your left hand, the large blue sapphire stone sparkling next to glittering diamonds in the light.

His wife.

For those of you who don't know, Leather and Lace was an Eddie series I started when I first started writing for the fandom. I only posted two chapters, and I just fell out of writing it. It was something I was holding close to me, and I wanted to really tell it right. I've been poking at it a lot lately, and the story has changed so much, and I'd love to share it again soon. But for now, have a little blurb from it tomorrow, and I'd really love to hear what you think. This Eddie is a childhood best friend, an enemy, a stranger, and hopefully, one day, a lover. Okay, anyways, happy voting!

*voting will close at 10am CST tomorrow, 10/3

[io-lu-art]

PUUUHHHH ok I neeeeed to rant about this cause I am watching the Acolyte as I am writing this down and I am RAGING rn. (take this with humour, pls, it's nothing bad, I promise you, lol)

requested page cut for spoilers:

So, 4 min into Episode 6 and I am wondering, that's totally Ahch-To, right? Like, that's, that's so obvious. At that point I was just waiting for the Porgs to appear (tho, did they exist 1000 or what not years ago? idk) LOL. WDYM "Unknown Planet"?

But let's put that aside.

Then the scene continues, I will not comment on it too much, HOWEVER I totally see why people say it's reylo coded. And the more I watch the more I go like NO, NO, NO plllllsssssssss don't--

THAT'S LITERALLY WHAT I AM PLANNING FOR MY FANFICTION, GUYS YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME, DO I NOW HAVE TO WRITE "I HAD THIS IDEA BEFORE THE ACOLYTE CAME OUT" AFTER EVERYTHING I POST OR WHAT? I cry.

No but really, I have proof:

This was not supposed to see the light of day before I would actually get to the point of illustrating the fanfic, but I guess now I gotta put it out there + plus this is the part of the story that I still have soooooo many other scenes to write for to connect and actually get there, hence why it freaking takes so long to work on it with uni and life happening, but--

*sighs* I mean I guess it's your average day to day trope but I am still- I... *another sigh*

I don't even read fanfiction on a daily basis. It's a wonder if I do it once every 6 months LOL. I don't even know if it is in fact a trope or not.

here, have an even rougher version from literally almost one year ago when I put together a pdf for a friend to give me feedback on in which I added some story beats that I drew around the "am I your prisoner?" scene:

You know what? It's fine. This is fine. Totally fine. It happens. I'll go on and continue watching the Acolyte ep 6 now. I stopped at min 10:50 to write this post. Let's see how much more reylo coded this actually gets. (I have seen a spoiler on Tumblr with (I believe it's) Osha holding the red blade against guy's neck.)

(I don't even know their names lol. That's how invested I am in this show. Not at all, really. But I thought, ok, let's stay up to date with the star wars fandom. I regret that now, ngl XD)

(It's not even the first time this happens to me. Remember the scene from Ahsoka when someone cuts Ezra's hair with the lightsaber? Yeah, I had that planned for a later interaction between Rey and Kylo. Welp. I refuse to post proof for that rn. It would spoil the story.)

This is so surreal and funny to me, I cannot.

[potassiumivy]

PLAYBOY. | jjk

❥ mdni. fic masterlist.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 004: SUPERMODEL.

✞ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘✞

MEGUMI KNEW THAT GOJO didn't forget about what he saw the day before. he also knew that his nosy ass would do anything to get an opportunity to ask you about it— such as convincing you to meet up with them and then promise you to argue with the higher ups to cancel the third year's suspension. 

the moment he saw you and that you explained about how gojo "pinky promised" you that he'll do something for hakari, he immediately connected the dots. and so, he made it his mission to keep his teacher away from you. throughout the whole tokyo tour, yuuji and nobara were thankfully glued to your side, not giving gojo any chance to pounce on you.

however, while the two idiots were busy fighting during the roppongi trick mission, the man-child wouldn't stop acting like a creepy fuck towards you.

"soooooo..." he started, tapping his fingers on his knees, "what did you do when you were in suspension?"

megumi sighed loudly, closing his eyes. 

"nothing, really. i just hung out with hakari and kirara." you weren't questioning gojo's weird behaviour. you were already aware that he had a couple loose screws up there so you didn't give it any thought. 

"nothing? my dear student didn't do anything when you had free time on your hand??" he cried out, dramatically clutching his blazer. "if i was you, i would've posed for a mag- ouch!" megumi elbowed him in the guts.

"shut up." his student said through gritted teeth. "don't be so obv—"

"well, we did go out pretty often! we had so much fun!" you exclaimed.

"yeah?" the corner of his lips curled up. "what kind of fun, exactly? did you-"

"gojo, stop." megumi interrupted him again.

you smiled sheepishly, rubbing your neck. "i guess you were always pretty good at figuring me out, gojo."

megumi furrowed his eyebrows. he had the feeling that you slightly misunderstood the situation, but he pushed it aside. 

as for you, you excitedly jumped on gojo, shaking his shoulders aggressively.

"IT WAS SOOOO GOOD! I COULD'T BELIEVE IT WAS HAPPENING!"

gojo couldn't focus on the gossip anymore. he could only admire the sight of you on his lap.

"AND HAKARI WAS SO SWEET TOO! HE ALWAYS REMINDED ME TO TELL HIM IF I FELT UNCOMFORTABLE."

"hmm? guess he's a pretty good friend to you, huh?"

you grinned at the mention of your friend, leaning back slightly to look at the sky. your chest was still pressed against gojo's, your arms around his neck.

"yeah." you sighed. "one of the best. kirara too. i wouldn't want it any other way."

megumi was definitely curious now. "are they the ones who got you into it?"

"yep!" you stood up from gojo's lap, sitting next to megumi. "i knew they were freaky, but not freaky freaky, you know?" you laughed, hiding your face behind your palms.

"didn't know they'd be into threesomes." 

megumi's eyes widened and gojo choked on his saliva.

"into what now."

*✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:

✞ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘✞

*✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:

to say that megumi was mortified was an understatement. he expected it, but it doesn't mean that he was ready for it. 

after the whole fiasco, you linked your arms with your two new friends as you all made your way to nobara's favourite sushi restaurant. you were humming under your breath, listening to their bickering. the three of you didn't even notice how gojo and megumi who maintained their distance from your little group. 

they were trailing behind, still astonished. gojo's eyes were wide open under his blindfold and he barely blinked. on the other hand, megumi kept checking the weather's app on his phone. 

they were still out of it even when they finally got there.

"hello!" an old lady approached them, "are you eating here or are you going to order some take-out?"

"yes." was gojo's only response.

"young man-"

"hello! we'll eat here please!" you answered cheerfully.

the lady smiled at your enthusiasm. "any special occasion?" she asked, leading you to your table. gojo and megumi were still unmoving so yuuji and nobara went back to drag them as you followed the waitress.

"yes! we're actually celebrating new friendships and my potential return from suspension!" you responded, which made the lady sweatdrop before she chuckled slightly.

"well, i hope you all have fun." 

"thank you! i'm sure we will."

as she was setting the table, she couldn't help but question you further. "if you don't mind me asking, why were you suspended exactly?" 

"oh! it started when my classmate beat up an old and very rude conservative."

"oh my! they did?"

"yes! then, my other friend spat in the old hag's face."

"really?!"

"uh-huh! and i took their side. but i didn't want to spit at them or anything cause it's kinda nasty outside of intercourse."

"it is!" she agreed.

hearing you two's laughter, the three first years simply watched the exchange both in amusement and bewilderment. you and the old waitress you just met were telling each other about your crazy sex stories, gossiping and laughing around like two high-schoolers.

"—and he barked at me!" she cackled, reminiscing her younger years.

"no, he didn't! no way." you were crying from laughter at this point.

gojo came behind his students, speaking in a low voice, "get used to it. she always befriends random ladies like that. she finds comfort in them."

"she has mommy issues?" nobara whisper-yelled. 

megumi glared at her. "what? it's a genuine question."

"her clan is mostly made of women, and they run everything there." he started. "by coming to the jujutsu technical college, she had to let go of everything she grew up with. she doesn't have that sense or familiarity very often anymore, especially since there's not a lot of female sorcerers outside of the l/n clan."

"that's why she was so happy to have you on board, nobara." gojo continued megumi's explanation. "she chose to leave her family so she can include them back in the jujutsu society, which is run by men. but by making that choice, she has to face sexism and misogyny everyday since her family can't shield her anymore." 

gojo looked at you with fondness, before looking back at his current students. "that's why she finds comfort very easily with older women. they remind her of her family."

nobara clenched her fists. 

"gojo-sensei?"  

he only hummed. 

"can the waitress eat with us?"

gojo looked back at you, seeing you glowing under the dim lights. 

your eyes were sparkling— just like the necklace around your neck. 

"of course she can."

*✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:

✞ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘✞

*✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:    *✧･ﾟ:

you were over the moon when the waitress took gojo's invitation and stayed with you. she told you that her son was the restaurant's owner, so he wouldn't mind her lazing around a little. 

everyone warmed up to her pretty quickly after seeing how she managed to carry the conversation fluently. she didn't seem to lack outrageous stories to tell, and neither did you. 

"there was that misogynistic ass." you started, already failing to keep yourself from laughing. megumi's ears perked up at the description.

"he asked me; what are you gonna do, slut? gonna suck me off?" you wiped your tears before continuing your story. "so i pegged him—" you cracked up, making nobara and the lady gasp loudly. 

you hushed them despite being loud yourself. your story wasn't finished.

"was it naoya?" megumi asked the question plaguing his mind. 

"IT WAS!" you were crying again, making megumi snort. 

"naoya? you pegged THE naoya?" gojo asked just to be sure, failing to maintain his composure. he was surprisingly quiet throughout the night, opting to attentively listen to your weird sexual adventures. 

you nodded, not being able to make a sound. 

"who is he?" yuuji managed to choke out, also on the verge of death despite not even knowing the guy.

"he was my upperclassman. he's such a little cunt, but he has a cute face so it makes up for it."

taking a deep breath you continued.

 "anyways, look... i had him moaning out; oh god! 'm your slut, only yours!" you imitated him.

"stop." megumi was letting loose too. he was biting his lower lip to keep himself from bursting out of laughter. just imagining his prick of a family member in such a humiliating state made him want to skip throughout the whole city in joy. 

"and what now?" gojo couldn't help but try to get more answers out of you. 

"he tracked me down when i was in suspension. guess he got pussy drunk." you shrugged, chuckling at the irony. "i kinda like him though. don't tell maki i said that. i think he's slowly getting his head out of his ass."

the night went on and more stories were exchanged. it was going pretty smoothly until—

"—when i went back inside my room, fushiguro shoved my magazine in his mouth!" yuuji revealed, which made megumi freeze. 

all the eyes were on him and he was starting to panick internally.

"yes! heh, as you see, our megumi is a little trickster!" gojo laughed awkwardly  before putting megumi in a headlock. "come on, megs, tell 'em that you were just feeling a little silly!" 

gojo's attempt to advert everyone's attention didn't work as planned.

"awn, that sucks. what was the magazine, yuuji? i read a lot of them so i can give you mine." you offered, trying to help the poor boy.

"thanks, but i don't think you'll have it... it was a deluxe edition of playboy." he pouted. 

megumi spat out his water and gojo's posture stiffened. 

"you're a pig." nobara deadpanned. 

"you are." megumi agreed, hoping to drag the conversation elsewhere.

"oh my god! i actually have it too! they're worth the price, aren't they?" you smiled, ignoring the chaos unfolding around you.

"HUH? well, on second thought, they don't seem that bad." nobara muttered to herself.

the old waitress was just listening to the conversation, quietly sipping on her sake. 

"they are!" yuuji nodded at you enthusiastically. "i was really excited to read it..."

"well... today's your lucky day, yuuji." you smiled mischievously. "cause i actually have an extra one on me!"

megumi and gojo couldn't look away from the scene. it's like watching a horror movie, knowing that there's going to be a jumpscare soon. 

you pulled the magazine out of your bag, throwing it on the table. 

everyone simultaneously leaned over to peek, while you sat back on your chair, folding your arms. 

same cover, same edition. same necklace.

yuuji's eyes widened the moment he saw it, looking back and forth between you and the magazine. 

"what is it yuuji?" you asked in mock concern, arching an eyebrow. you leaned over the table, your lips grazing his. only when his whole attention was on you, and on you only, you spoke against his lips in a hushed whisper. 

"want me to sign your copy?"

✞ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘✞

next!!

©potassiumivy, 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate / modify / republish my works.

[knickknacksandallthat]

I was watching hockey the other day and the announcers were talking about how on the penguins, there are three player who are setting the record for the longest tenure as teammates. they've been playing together for 18 years, i'm sure you can see where my brain went

Anon, yessss!! Omg I can literally just see the interview now:

(Jean, Jeremy, and Kevin sitting in a room with an interviewer)

INTERVIEWER: Well, thanks for sitting down with me, guys! And listen, a few of us were just talking about this - the three of you have been together on the same team for around 10 years now, right?

JEREMY: *smiling* Yep!

JEAN: If you say so.

INTERVIEWER: Wow, that's quite the tenure! Did you know, in fact, that you three are close to setting a record within the league?

KEVIN: What record?

INTERVIEWER: Most consecutive years together on a team.

JEAN: *raises eyebrow* they have records for this?

KEVIN: Who currently holds it?

INTERVIEWER: uh...well I think it's technically Neil Josten and Andrew Minyard with the Dragons.

JEREMY: Awww, good for them!

JEAN: *snorts*

INTERVIEWER: *clears throat* well, in any case, uh...that's quite the achievement, you know? Tell us - what's your secret? What's the magic between you three?

JEREMY: *still smiling* hmm, I wonder.

KEVIN: Practice, hard work, and experience.

INTERVIEWER: Well, I'm sure the time you train together accounts for a lot, but...there's nothing...else you'd say helps?

JEAN: Like?

INTERVIEWER: Um, like...well, you know...like friendship?

JEAN: *blinking* Friendship.

INTERVIEWER: Yeah, man...I mean, after all this time, I would think the three of you have grown so close that you'd be more like bros, you know?

JEAN: *frowning now* Bros.

JEREMY: *biting lip silently against grin* Ohhhh, right. Got it. Yeah man, for sure. Bros.

INTERVIEWER: Exactly! Homies, man.

KEVIN: *tone dripping with derision* Homies.

INTERVIEWER: Three dudes with the most sacred of all bonds - sports.

JEREMY: *now shaking with repressed laughter* Oh, for sure, my dude. Homies. Brotherly bonding. Soooooo hetero. The most.

(Kevin turns to scowl at Jeremy.)

INTERVIEWER: You know, it actually kind of surprised many of us that you didn't end up on a team with Neil and Andrew, Kevin. If anyone, those two are who many of us would have thought you'd be setting this record with.

JEREMY: Oh my god. *doubles over laughing*

JEAN: *smirking* Yes, tell us, Kevin. Why aren't you on a team with Neil and Andrew? Accomplishing this sacred connection of brotherly bonding?

KEVIN: *pinches bridge of nose with fingers before sighing* Let's just say being on the same team with them at the Olympics is more than enough.

KEVIN: *grumbles under breath* The damn pair of menaces.

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

INTERVIEWER: Josten and Minyard, we were just out talking to your rivals on the West Coast last week - Jeremy Knox, Jean Moreau, and your former PSU teammate, Kevin Day, from the Warriors.

*Both stare silently at him*

INTERVIEWER: *coughs* Right, so, we were just saying how that trio is coming up on your record for teammates with the most time spent together on one team.

NEIL: And? What's your point?

INTERVIEWER: *loosens tie* oh, well, there was a little curiosity, I guess, around why Kevin chose that team instead of coming to play for the Dragons - with the two of you, I mean, his former teammates. Um...do you know why that is?

NEIL: Because Andrew would probably stab him.

INTERVIEWER: I...what?

NEIL: *waving hand back and forth* Yeah, I'd probably give it two weeks at most.

INTERVIEWER: ...

NEIL: See, Kevin would whine and nag, and Andrew would get pissed but he promised Wymack he wouldn't, no matter how much Kevin annoys him. So...yeah. It's probably better that they both stay on opposite ends of the country.

INTERVIEWER: ...

ANDREW: *pulling lollipop out of mouth* Never let a sad, forty-something year old man convince you to promise shit.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Best Cure for Boredom

kai parker x reader

summary: you text your boyfriend, bored in class and looking for entertainment, but instead catch him in one of his needier moments. after two seconds of debate, you decide you have nothing better to do than to help him. (witch!reader)

tags: phone sex, sexting / sexting in (college) class, male masturbation, cum on camera lens

word count: ~2.2k

You’re sitting in the back of your class, bored out of your fucking mind. Professor Saltzman has been going on about the history of magic for three class periods now, and he doesn’t even seem close to done. One downside to being a witch: you already know this, but have to pretend you don’t. Granted, half your class is composed of vampires and witches, including your professor - an ex-vamp, but as for the half that doesn’t know, you really don’t need them to find out.

But… the thought of continuously taking notes on something you’ve been taught since childhood is killing you, so you opt to look like one of those students who never pay attention in class. Sighing, you push your notebook away and pull out your phone. 

Y/N: plz help i am so bored

Kai: are you okay??

His instant reply makes you smile.

Y/N: yeah i’m okay, i just hate ric’s class soooooo much

Kai: when are you out?

Y/N: not for another twenty minutes

Kai: fuck, i miss you

Y/N: i miss you, too

Kai: and the bed is cold without you

Y/N: have you not gotten up yet??

Kai: ….no

Kai: i’ve been waiting for you to get back

Y/N: baby, i have classes all day. i won’t be back until four

Kai: mmmmmmmm no!

Y/N: i’m sorry! i would much rather be with you

Kai: skip

Y/N: baby, i can’t

Kai: then what am i supposed to do without you?? 

Kai: we miss you a lot princess

Y/N: we?? who tf is we??

A minute passes, no answer. 

Y/N: malachai

Kai: what??

Kai: don’t call me that

Y/N: what do you mean ‘we’? where did you go just now?

Kai: i want you back here right now

Y/N: i can’t, i’m sorry. 

Y/N: why did you say ‘we’? was that a typo?

Kai: what’s a typo?

Y/N: a mis-type. like an error. pushed a wrong key

Kai: oh

Kai: no

Y/N: is someone else there?

Kai: not anyone you haven’t seen before

Y/N: malachai you come clean right now or you’re gonna be in trouble

Kai: i like trouble

Y/N: won’t be a fun trouble

Kai: you wouldn’t

Y/N: i would, now tell me who’s there with you

Kai: it’s no big deal, i promise! 

Y/N: kai

Kai: okay fine

Kai: i haven’t put anything on since you left and i’m hard again

Kai: and i’m still sore from last night a little

Kai: like, my hips are

Kai: but i can’t control it. i took a nap and woke up with it so fucking hard it hurts

Y/N: oh my god

Y/N: have you been talking about your dick this whole time??

Y/N: that’s ‘we’?

Kai: yeah

Kai: sorry

Y/N: fucking hell kai, i’m in class!

Kai: that’s why i used code word!

Y/N: malachai, you need better code words!

Kai: don’t call me that!

Kai: can you plz come home??

Y/N: baby, i wish i could, but i can’t! you’re gonna have to work this one out on your own

Kai: no no no i need you here. i’m so sick of working them out on my own. plz i need you

Y/N: kai…

You sigh, wanting nothing more than to leave class and go back to him. Not only would you so much rather be with your boyfriend right now, but you also know how much he does need you. After eighteen years of no human contact in the prison world, he had to do everything himself, including this. 

Kai: i’m sorry

Kai: you don’t have to, i don’t want to burden you

Y/N: no no baby, you’re never a burden to me

Y/N: you know i love you, right?

Kai: yes. i love you, too. but i’m sorry i’ve been so needy

Y/N: you’re okay. you’ve spent a long time alone, and it’s perfectly okay to want things, kai

Y/N: i so, so wish i could leave class and touch you right now

Y/N: wait hold up, i have an idea

Kai: okay

Y/N: i’m in the far back of the room. the only person behind me is fast asleep. can you work with me a little so i can get you off without being there?

Kai: i can try

Y/N: okay. perfect. 

Y/N: warning, i’ve only done this once in my life

Kai: i have never so you’ll do better than me

You smile.

Y/N: okay, cutie… start how you normally do, but i’m going to walk you through it, mkay?

Kai: okay. i am. it feels a little better but i need… i don’t know… help

Y/N: you need something wet so you can glide along it better, so spit in your hand and rub it along your length. do that until it’s wet enough

Kai: it’s sticky

Y/N: imagine it’s my mouth, okay? rub it fast enough that it gets warm and slippery, and imagine my mouth is around you

Y/N: suck on your own tongue, swish it around your mouth, and imagine it’s mine on your cock, okay

Kai: i’m doing that now

Y/N: good boy, does it feel better?

Kai: a little

Kai: but reading that made my body jolt

Y/N: you like that? you like being praised? i can give you that

Kai: plz oh plz

Kai: can i moan?

Y/N: plz, baby, yes! make all the sounds you want and jerk yourself faster. i love your little whimpers and moans and every time i hear them i get more turned on. imitate how i’d be quickening my pace if i could hear you right now

Kai: it feels so good. i added more spit, is that okay?

Y/N: yes, kai, perfect. you’re doing so well! keep it up!

Y?N: and buck your hips up into your hand if you feel ready for it. your hand won’t be doing all the work and it’ll feel so good, pumpkin

Kai: i’m whining so loud for you. and i can hear those wet sounds, too, now. i love hearing those sounds

Y/N: yes! good boy, keep doing that. those are the sounds you make when your balls are hitting me from fucking into me so hard, that’s why you like them. i know you, kai. listen to those and imagine you’re bucking your hips into me. imagine my eyes rolling in my head with each thrust

Y/N: hey also - this might help. are you on your back?

Kai: yes

Y/N: okay, can you be a good boy for me, and get on your knees? ball up a pillow and thrust in the hole. might feel more real, and your hand might be getting tired anyway

Kai: i’m doing it, am i being good for you?

Y/N: i’m not sure, send me a pic

Kai: wait, what?

Y/N: send me a pic of you on top of that pillow. don’t worry, no one’s around me. no one’s seeing your sweet lil cock except me

There’s a few seconds of silence from him, then a picture comes through. You look around to make sure no one’s watching before opening it, but nobody’s even remotely paying attention to you. 

And thank god for that because the image you get takes your breath away. Your boyfriend, red, teased, and hard, mounted atop a pillow. His strong thighs are visible in the image, as are his fingers, which you so wish were deep inside you right now. 

Y/N: fucking hell, kai

Kai: is it okay?

Y/N: okay?? you look so fucking gorgeous!!

Kai: so am i doing a good job?

Y/N: yes, baby, you’re doing so well. i wish i was there to help you, tell you in person. fuck, you deserve to hear it in person. i’m gonna treat you so well when i get home, i promise. you’re being such a good boy

Kai: do you want me to keep going?

Y/N: yes, kai, keep going. buck your hips into that pillow, feel how it wraps around you, how you feel against the fabric. get your pace back up, too. and moan for me, baby

Kai: feels so good i love you i love uou, i lvoee you, iiiiii lvuwo uou

You receive a keysmash as he must be trying to type while still fucking into the pillow. Fuck The Notebook, a keysmashed ‘I love you’ is the most romantic thing you’ve ever seen. 

Y/N: i love you, too, baby

Y/N: are you close?

Kai: i’m so fuxcking close i’m gonna

Kai: im noist gonna lastttt

Y/N: fuck i’m so wet, kai. holy fuck

Y/N: send another pic

Kai: i try

Kai: button

Kai: can’t find

Kai: i’m cumming princess i can’t stop it

Y/N: that’s okay. you’re doing perfect. cum for me, kai. let it go. bet it feels so good

You don’t hear a response for a few minutes. You bite your lip, desperate for an update, but understand that he’s probably taking a bit to recover. His orgasms are usually pretty intense, and you definitely don’t think this one was an exception. 

Still, you hover over the send button for a text asking if he’s okay. 

Kai: *1 video attached*

You swallow. He did not…

You look around again, and then check to make sure your volume is all the way down, and your phone is on silent. You’re not about to be the student that plays borderline porn in the classroom, and you’re especially not about to let anyone except you ever hear Kai’s moans. 

You’ll listen to the audio after class, definitely. But you just have to see what’s on the video right now. 

Immediately after you click on it, your eyes widen. 

Kai’s hovering over the camera, jerking himself off rapidly. His eyes are rolled back in his head, and tongue darts out to wet his lips. Words tumble from his mouth. You hate that you can’t hear them, but for now, you just need to see him cum. God, he’s so pretty. You can see him getting closer and closer, and then finally, his hips buck sharply. His balls bounce into the frame of the camera, and then he cums. You actually gasp as you realize how he set this up. The minute he cums, his load squirts directly onto the camera lens. Ropes cover the screen completely, and it almost feels like a facial. Through a tiny gap in the side, you can see his cock still releasing a few more, some hitting the camera again, some going far away out of view. Kai then swipes it away, slaps his cock on the lens, and then mutters something inaudible. The video cuts off right after the words, ‘I love you’ seem to leave his lips. 

Y/N: holy fuck

Kai: do you like? was it too much?

Y/N: noonono not too much at all

Y/N: i think that’s the hottest video i’ve ever gotten

Y/N: not only video, hottest thing i’ve ever seen

Y/N: fuck, kai, you’ve got me in the mood. i’m so fucking wet

Y/N: you were such a good boy all the way through

Y/N: do you feel better?

Kai: i feel so much better

Kai: but i’m still down for round two if you skip and come home

This time, you really debate it. But interrupting your thoughts comes the bell, and you have to start packing your things.

Y/N: bell just rang, one second

Kai: okay

You start to make your way out the door but Alaric stops you at the last second,

"Y/N?”

“Uh, hi.”

He waits for everyone to leave and then, “was I boring you today?”

“What?”

“Well, I noticed you’ve been texting for the last fifteen minutes of my class. Do you find this content boring? I would think you’d be interested.”

“Oh! Not at all, Professor! I love this material, but to be honest, I have been taught it most of my life. I wasn’t bored, just…”

“More entertained by your phone?”

You bite your lip, “I’m really sorry.”

“Who were you texting that was so much more interesting?”

“...,my boyfriend.”

“Kai?”

“Yes.”

Alaric sighs, “that boy is a bad influence, Y/N. You’re going to get hurt being with him.”

“He won’t hurt me, I promise. You all can relax. He’s really sweet when it’s just us alone.”

“So he wasn’t texting you about his next victim? Giving up live updates on where the poor guy is going?”

“No, he’s been at home all day. I have proof.”

“Fine. I believe you, but only because I was in my twenties once, too, and I can tell that that conversation was definitely more interesting than my lecture.”You freeze, but he’s not done. “Don’t bother with the bathroom rendezvous, just take the rest of the day off.” Your heart stops, you swear. “And during my next class, tell Kai he needs to find alternative ways of dealing with his, uh, issues.”

“I, uh, um-”

“See you Wednesday, Y/N.”

“Uh, see… you… too.” 

You stand there, mortified, until he says, “bye,” one more time, and then you nearly trip over the doorway trying to get out. In the hallway, though, you can only laugh to yourself about the whole ordeal. 

On that note…

Y/N: i’ll be there in five, kai ;)

[ananke-xiii]

I've finally organized (the majority of) my posts with the proper tags! I'm so proud of myself, I genuinely thought I was never gonna do it but hey, miracles do happen after all!

It took me almost one year but now I've fully realized the importance of tags, this is what I call progress...

It was actually quite a helpful thing to do because I've identified what my major themes are and well, turns out I do write about a lot of stuff, don't I?

I'm sad to report that not all tags work for all posts, I don't know why this is happening and, honestly, I don't care right now. Things will sort themselves out... somehow... magically... in the future.... lol.

I like some of the names I've chosen, some others are too prosaic, what can I say? Inspiration comes and goes.

#myths we live by: general observations and/or criticism about the underlying myths that are prominent/popular in the stories I consume and that therefore play a part in my understanding of the world.

#movies in spn: it's not shocking news to anyone but once I've personally realized the depth to which movies in SPN are not just used as references but as foundational structures to write episodes on it was over for me.

#destiel and betrayal: dean and cas relationship as a marriage of (con)sorts based on betrayal.

#on resurrection: I see resurrections as rebellions against Time, a way to keep the past forever alive, which is the ultimate undead that must rise to be faced etc. And I use Supernatural to explore my obsession, thank you very much.

#billie won theory: I think Billie won because the weight of the role of Death in the narrative was eventually re-established. On one hand, it's a postive thing because Death is too much of a powerful symbol to be discarded the way it was in S10, it was bound to re-emerge. On the other, the way it was re-framed is quite... bad because it gives a problematic and conservative flavor to the finale where Death is glorified and romanticized. After all, let's all go back to the jolly old times that never were jolly, instead they're just old, and be content that there will be happiness in the after-life, yeah! No thank yewwwwww.

#phd in spn s12: I have a fascination with s12 which I can't really explain to be honest. I don't even like the BMOL storyline! But I love Mary and I LOOOOVE. LOOOOOOOOOOVE Kelly Kline so, you know. Maybe that's it.

#time travels in spn: I have a lot to say about time travels but I never manage to write down what I want the way I want so there's not so much in here for now. But maybe... somehow... magically... in the future... I'll be able to write coherently so that people can actually understand me etc.

#spn angels: I have. A.LOT.to say about them. I love them, they're the ultimate dysfunctional family. Apart from Cas, Metatron is my fave, be warned.

#spn s9 is complicated: well, nothing more to add. It is what it is. BUT, ALSO. S9 is kinda good, like... the episodes are, like, not bad at all. And the plot more or less makes sense which is a huge compliment for Supernatural.

#super-m/Others: mothers in SPN are my favorite thing. I mean, I know this is supposed to be THEE show about absent fathers but I honestly don't care, SPN mothers are wild and most of them are also dead. Lot to think about.

#spn lines: some lines that I like or that I want to analyze.

#jack the puer: I have this theory, you know, and it's about Jack and how he perfectly fits the Junghian archetype of the "Puer Aeternus" and one day I'll write more about it, hence the tag. It's like a promise to myself.

#b/w spn: this is about how SPN is a show about dichotomies and how sometimes the lines between polarities get blurred and some other times (too many times) are reinforced much to my chagrin.

Okay, soooooo, finally.... Order in my land of Chaos! Hope you enjoy it! <3

[koicrimes]

Feel free to delete this if it makes you uncomfortable and tell me if I should keep asks like this to your selfship blog! But OK here goes! I know you mainly ship with Aizawa and Nishiki but I also saw your list of F/OS on your second blog and basically I realize you ship with two characters that I would want to ship with if I open my shipping blog. I haven't followed you long but I've looked through that whole blog, and I see you like never interact with other shippers. I've been trying to work myself up to DMing you but honestly I'm too anxious you'll hate me especially since I love two of your F/Os.

Are you against sharing? Do you avoid other shippers who have similar F/Os as you? Sorry! I'm not trying to be rude. I just am curious where you stand because I think you're so cool but I'm terrified of stepping on your toes or something.

GOD THIS CAME OUT SO LONG AND I'M SO SORRY!

you can send whatever you want, to whatever blog your feel like sending it too. i dont really have rules for that.

anyway, so the reason you don't see me interactin with other ssrs on here is because truth be told, the people i'm closest to who are into selfshipping and will talk to me about it are kinda casual or moreso on the shy side. so majority of those interactions are done in tumblr or discord private messages and i think i’ve come to prefer it that way? 

as far as the sharing bit, since you said you went through that whole blog i imagine you’ve already seen this but let me just point it out in case you missed it: (between the blue is a screenie from my pinned post there)

in short, i dont really care what anyone does. i’ve got friends who actively selfship with ‘my’ f/os. now that i think about it, i've even had an instance where a friend and i full on swapped f/os and now we worldbuild together lmaooo.. but i guess we had to work our way up to doing that. It wasn’t something we started doing fresh out the gate, ya know? 

i never have issues with people having similar f/os as me bc my rationale is that the way two people portray one character is quite unlikely to be exactly the same. Therefore, in my mind, makes them different people.

i get that we’re in an age of ‘HE WOULD NOT FUCKING SAY THAT’ which can be funny when you’re unattached to the person on the other side of it, but my friends can make their fave say whatever the fuck they want and i’d be there like ‘soooooo true bestie!👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾’.

but hey! that’s just me!! lmao bc i have not always had people extend that same courtesy which can be kinda annoying. 

full transparency? in the past, i’ve had a mutual follow my ss blog who then read something i posted and decided to vague me for writing what i did despite my blog and the thing itself having warnings that state what’s in it… and i dont fuck with that. needless to say, we dont talk anymore bc man, subbing randoms is one thing, but subbing a friend and/or mutual is asinine- like, bestie, i saw that shit. so what now?? we just gonna chitchat like nothing happened?? LMAO.

as long as you’re not intending to be ✨Like That✨ then i say by all means, reach out!!! I know i had a nasty moment today but i promise i dont bite🥺 however and i mean this with as much respect as i can muster, you know yourself better than i ever will! if you feel you’re not one to live and let live, it’s probably best we enjoy ss’ing in our own respective spaces because that’s like the only way you could possibly be ‘stepping on my toes’.

whatever you decide after this, i wish you the best of luck and so much fun on your selfshipping journey! it can be a little awkward at first but once you get used to it, it's a blast! i can't imagine anything that's been more fun than this (creatively speaking)

[clarajohnson]

the magicians s2e8

gosh i did not remember julia losing her shade during the exorcism/abortion that is. that is soooooo interesting.

losing your shade seems to make you an insufferable theatre kid

"no hurting anyone, no casting magic, no sex" oh q you're kind of awful

looked at q's and alice's hands next to each other and felt some feelings. mortifying for me.

MARGO'S PANTS !!!!!!!!!!!!

margo's klepto proclivities are so deeply charming to me

q and margo are sweet friends. "my takeaway lately is that anything can happen at any time, so just be there while you can" :-'''''''( they are so tender with each other

i love when they have extras in the cottage like sorry do you mean to tell me other people are just going to magic grad school with no complications

anyone ever pay attention to the murals on the title card? i just noticed there's a fox on it and is that just for this episode? does it change? should i have been watching this?

julia: if reynard wanted to finish me off he'd have done it by now julia as soon as she leaves the wards: immediately encounters reynard

it's so sad that reynard is so hot

don't wanna say it. don't wanna go here. shadeless julia? hot.

i screamed when q showed up lmao dude

jalph can do anything except play niffin alice he's too babygirl

shadeless julia kicking the rasp up to eleven

q took art history. say more about that quentin.

niffin alice reading about "fixing niffins" vs future alice saying she misses being a niffin... well that is just fascinating.

i remember 0% of the library contract so this will be interesting

wait where are q and kady i like the cds

why did it take penny so long to notice alice in q's head lol

margo's little robe traveling robe >>>>>

hi. so you the nymph?

julia and margo were the best people to do this dryad thing because he says two females and they share this look and you know they've just agreed to cause some unholy terror. and sure julia goes farther than margo probably would've but it shows so much promise for their dynamic i love to see them together.

niffin alice testing q on his alice knowledge all the time. kind of feels like he loved the idea of her more than the real her at the time HMMMM. phosphoromancy. my discipline, idiot.

fen, you too, sweetie. OHHHHHH MY GOD.

margo saying "they don't want me, they want the high king" JUST WAIT !!!!! JUST WAIT BABY I LOVE YOU !!!!!!! also her trembling lower lip oh god i love margo hanson so goddamn much.

time sight viewmaster is SUCH a the magicians thing lmao

dana was a great mom actually huh

i love that the lorians have little harry potter ass wands. nation of lame-os.

my loyalty will always lie with me ohhhhhh shadeless julia you're the girl of my dreams

oh you know stella maeve had to be proud of that smirk she pulls after she explodes the forest

that's stupid. you play too much dungeons and dragons. alice quinn would never play dungeons and dragons.

fuck you pay me !!!! you tell them anglerbeast!

oh yeah gosh waking up and seeing a tiny dead body probably not the best thing for q huh.

friar joseph is so fun i love his little hangout. and i love how embarrassed q seems to be to be casting the boxing spell.

niffin alice still having tenuous self esteem oh aw :-(

bet otd had so much fun playing a niffin also oh man

"everything el promised i'm gonna deliver" yeah fen married the wrong fillory royal

queerplatonic is a fat nothing but i would never even attempt to describe whatever el and margo have going on

penny signing the library contract for magic but also for kady :'-(

"glass jaw, not a surprise"

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

5. i know you get me, so i let my walls come down

A/N: Chapter 5!!!! Guys, lemme tell you, I changed the events of this chapter soooooo much. Honestly, I’ve made a lot of changes to the chapters, I’ll probably be writing out some extra drabbles and scenes later on that didn’t end up in the main story, ngl. But for now, the story continues!!! I will say, the smut in this chapter was totally unplanned. At first, I didn’t want to cause I already have smut planned for both chapters 7 and 8, but this scene wasn’t that long and I figured you guys wouldn’t complain much, lmaooooo. Anyways, this chapter is pretty fun, I hope you enjoy it!!!

Pairing(s): Tristan x Lancelot, slight Nasiens x Percy

Summary: Lance’s friend group likes to spend the occasional weekend at Percy’s grandpa’s beach house over in west Britannia and this time around, they invite Tristan and his friends to come along.

Tags: Alcohol, smut, explicit sexual content, handjob, slight dom/sub dynamics, sir kink, shower sex

Song Inspiration: Teenage Dream By Katy Perry

Word Count: 4,398

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Series Masterlist]

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9]

[Read on AO3]

[Author Masterlist]

~*~

"Percy!! We need to figure out room assignments, everyone else is gonna be here soon!!"

"Hey, does anyone know what we're gonna do for dinner?"

"Somebody better plan on restocking the pudding while we're here."

"Why don't you just do it yourself, Gawain?"

"Lance, do you think there's enough left in the kitchen for you to whip something up for everybody?"

Lance shakes his head, chuckling to himself as he sets his bag on the floor by the hallway leading to the bedrooms and heads towards the kitchen. He'd missed his friends and all the chaos that came with them. "Lemme take some stock in here and I'll see what I can do, Anne." He tells the bluette standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on her hips.

"Oh, good. I hope there's enough, I really don't feel like going out in public again today." She admits.

"Rough week?" He questions.

"You have no idea." She groans. "I seriously needed this weekend away. Plus, it's been awhile since we've all gotten together here, I've missed it." She sighs.

Lance nods, walking over to the fridge and opening it up. "Definitely." He agrees. He grimaces at the near empty fridge and opens up the freezer instead, looking over the items inside thoughtfully. "Hey, can you look and see if there's any flour and baking powder in the cupboards?" He asks Anne over his shoulder.

He hears her move to look as he pulls out a package of frozen sausage and tosses it onto the counter, closing the freezer back up as well. "Full bag of flour and half a tin of baking powder. Little bit of sugar in here, too." She informs him.

"Alright, cool. I think I got something in mind." He says, pulling out his phone as he leans against the counter. Just gotta see if Tris is willing to make a pit stop.

'Hey, how far out are you guys?'

'About 10 min'

'Do you think you'd be willing to do me a favor?'

'Does that mean you'd "owe me one" afterwards?'

'Why of course'

'Alright, fine, what is it?'

'Stop by a store and grab some milk and butter, pretty please? Doesn't matter what kind or brand'

'Ugh, okay. Only cause I like you so much ;D'

'Thank youuuuuu. I'll make it up to you, promise'

'Oh, I know you will'

Lance snorts, pocketing his phone and looking up to find Anne staring at him with a smirk. "You talking to your new friend?"

He rolls his eyes playfully. "They'll all be here in about 15 minutes or so." He informs her. "Once they get here, I'll have everything I need to start on dinner."

"Great!" She exclaims. "In the meantime, we should probably make sure that the idiots out there haven't made a mess of things already." She points her thumb over her shoulder and in the direction of the living room before turning around and walking that way. Lance shrugs and follows her, having nothing better to do while he waits.

~*~

Seventeen minutes later, Lance is in the process of defrosting the sausage when he hears exclaims from the living room. "Hey, uh, Lance?" Donny calls.

Lance walks into the living room, eyebrow raised. "Yeah...? What's up?" He questions.

"What the hell are Tristan Liones and Isolde Connors doing walking up to the house!?" He exclaims, half panicked.

Anne gasps. "Isolde is here!?"

"Oh, they finally got here, then." Lance says, a smile spreading over his face as he tries not to seem too excited.

"Oh? "Oh"?? That's all!?"

Lance doesn't answer Donny, instead walking closer to the clear glass wall making up the front of the house and watching as four people come up the stone steps. He spots Isolde and Tristan at the front and two men behind them that he doesn't recognize. He doesn't pay much attention to them, his eyes going back to Tristan almost immediately. It's only been about a day and a half since they'd last seen each other, but Lance was excited to see him all the same. In the past week, they'd spent the night together three more times and gone on two dates. They texted everyday and called sometimes, too. Lance didn't think it was even possible to be so attached to someone after so little amount of time, but the proof is right there in front of him that definitely was. He's been wearing a smile all week and all he can think about half the time is when he'll see the man again.

He's found out so much about the prince of Liones since that first night. He now knows that Tristan's favorite color is yellow and his favorite baked good is cinnamon rolls. His OCD was first diagnosed when he was 9, his Bipolar Disorder was diagnosed when he was 15. He'd had one girlfriend and two boyfriends in the past, all before him and Isolde were revealed to be dating to the public at age 19. When he was a kid, he'd had a dog named Monspeet that was first given to him by his Uncle Zeldris and Aunt Gelda, and the dog passed away when he was 17. He currently only models men's clothing, but he's considered asking to try out some women's clothing as well. Not only does he wear lip gloss, but sometimes more than that. He loves everything to do with the beauty and fashion industry and hopes to one day start his very own line of makeup and beauty products. He's obsessed with space and stars, has been for as long as he can remember. He has a deep passion for learning new things, becoming fascinated whenever he finds out a new fact he'd never known before. Whenever he comes to Lance's apartment, he has a new question about the plants he's growing and the crystals Lance keeps around his living space. Lance happily answers each one.

And so, when Percy calls him up and tells him that he wants to get the gang together for the weekend at his grandpa's beach house, the question of bringing Tristan along tumbled from his mouth before he'd even realized what it was. Percy, of course, said he could, and mentioned that he could bring a few friends along with him since the house was so big. Percy's grandpa's beach house has 8 bedrooms total and with their usual group there, only 4 of the bedrooms are taken, leaving the other 4 completely vacant. Tristan immediately agreed, saying he was sure his three best friends would love to come. One of which is, of course, Isolde, and if Lance remembers correctly, the other two are Jade and Chion.

Lance never told Donny, Anne, or Gawain about him and Tristan. They only know that he invited someone who he's getting close to, which they know in translation to mean dating. He technically didn't tell Nasiens directly, either, but he's certain that Percy told him who he was inviting and the both of them already know a little bit about him and Tristan anyways since they'd caught the two men making out back at the club a week earlier. It's just now that Lance realizes there's something else he's never told them. Tristan is the first guy he's ever dated, and he's never really tried to dig too deep into his own sexuality in the past. He's been attracted to plenty of guys, he's just never acted on any of it. So, given all of that, not only is Donny freaked out by the literal celebrities walking up, he's probably also extremely confused. Anne would most likely be just as confused if she wasn't so happy about Isolde being here. Oh, well. They'll adjust.

Lance walks over to the front door, opening it up as the group of four reaches it and holding it open. Percy comes rushing into the room and stops beside Lance. "Hey, everyone! Glad you all got here okay!" He greets cheerfully.

"Oh, Percy, right? It's wonderful to see you again!" Tristan exclaims with just as much cheer. "These are my friends, Isolde, Chion, and Jade." He points to each one as he introduces them.

"Great!!" Percy shakes hands with each of the newcomers, waving the rest of Lance's friends over. "This is Anne, Donny, Gawain, and my boyfriend, Nasiens! And-" Anne barrels into Isolde with a squeal, interrupting Percy.

"Anne!? I didn't know you'd be here!!" She exclaims as the two embrace quickly before pulling back.

Percy smiles at the two before continuing. "And then there's Lance, of course!"

Lance steps back into view after closing the front door and locking it, sending a wave at the new people in the room. "Hey, guys." He says casually.

Before anyone else can answer, Tristan comes right up to him and plants a kiss on his lips. Lance immediately wraps his arms around the silverette and returns the kiss without hesitation. He hears a choked gasp and a "What!?" from his group of friends and he internally snickers. Tristan pulls away slightly, giving him an amused smirk. "I got you your stupid butter and milk." He whispers, his arm coming up to show the grocery bag he's holding in one hand.

"Well, thank you very much, your majesty. I appreciate the hard work you put in, in order to do so." He whispers back, taking the bag from him. "Now I can make dinner." He says in a normal volume this time.

Tristan gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "Am I finally getting to taste the Lancelot Antin's cooking?"

"Oh, don't get too cheeky now, maybe I'll change my mind." Lance quips.

The prince narrows his eyes at him. "You wouldn't."

Lance sighs. "You're right, I wouldn't. Only cause Anne would kill me if I made us go out for something, though." He points his thumb at the bluette.

"Damn right." Anne grumbles, arms crossing over her chest.

"Huh. Good to know." Tristan has a mischievous glint in his eye as he turns away from Lance. Lance just shakes his head, chuckling at the prince's antics.

Tristan starts introducing himself to the rest of Lance's friends and people start to mingle, so Lance takes the milk and butter into the kitchen, putting them away for now. He then finishes his process of defrosting the sausage and then sets it aside for the moment. He then gets out the flour, baking powder and sugar, setting them on the counter as he gathers up other things he'll need.

A few minutes later, he's just starting to flatten the biscuit dough he made when arms wrap around him from behind. "That's kinda hot, you showing off all your muscles like that. Definitely a view I could get used to." Tristan comments.

Lance snorts. "Is that so?" He asks, folding the dough over and then flattening it down with his palms.

"Mm-hm." The silverette nuzzles his face against the man's back and Lance feels butterflies take flight in his stomach at the simple affection. "Your friends seem really fun and this house is gorgeous. Thank you for inviting us." Tristan says sincerely.

Lance stops what he's doing for a moment to place his hands over Tristan's on his waist. "Of course. A lot of good memories have been made here, I'm glad I can add some with you to the mix." He admits.

Tristan doesn't reply, but his hands start to tremble slightly in his grasp. He's about to question why, growing concerned with the man's silence, but then Tristan just tightens his arms, hugging Lance tighter, and buries his face in his back, humming softly. Lance smiles softly and squeezes his hands before focusing back on the biscuit dough in front of him.

~*~

"Dinner's ready!!" Gawain swats a spatula against the living room doorway multiple times to get people's attention.

Lance shakes his head at her with a chuckle as he passes another full plate of food to the pinkette beside him. Isolde has insisted on helping him every opportunity she gets, including taking food from the kitchen to the dining room. Lance had an inkling that she was trying to get him to like her, which was confirmed when Tristan whispered to him to just go with it. Truth is, he has no problems with her. Tristan already explained to him that she doesn't see him in a romantic way and that they're just friends and nothing more, that Isolde is glad their arrangement is over now. And Lance believes them both, he has no reason not to. Not only does he trust Tristan's word, he trusts Anne's as well, and Isolde is a really close friend of Anne's. And so, he lets her do her thing, not like he's complaining about the help.

Lance passes the last plate to Isolde before making sure all the burners are turned off and putting all the dishes he'd used into the sink. He'd made biscuits and gravy. It was simple and about the only thing he could've made with what they had. He'll go out and do some grocery shopping tomorrow morning, making sure there's some good freezer stuff stocked up for next time they come.

"Hey, do you know where the corkscrew is?" Donny asks him as he walks in, heading straight for the wine cart. Which was completely empty save for the wine and champagne glasses on it.

"Yeah, right here." Lance says, grabbing it out of a nearby drawer. "Whatcha need it for?" He asks curiously.

The redhead starts gathering champagne glasses, sending a wide grin Lance's way. "You're boyfriend brought us the wonderful gift of alcohol!" Lance chokes at the title Donny gave Tristan. Boyfriend. Lucky for him, Donny isn't paying much attention as he tries his best to balance all ten champagne glasses. "Hey, think you could bring that in yourself?"

"Y-yeah, I got it." Lance coughs. Donny then walks through and into the dining room, leaving him alone in the kitchen.

He'd be lying if he said he hasn't considered the title at least once. He has. Just yesterday, in fact. But...is it too soon? They've known each other for 8 months, but they've only been dating for a week. One single week that's been incredible. And when he imagines giving that kind of title to Tristan, and Tristan giving that same title to him in return, it just feels right. So maybe it isn't too soon for Lance, but what if it is too soon for Tristan? He just isn't quite sure what the right move here is yet.

He shakes his head to clear his thoughts and leaves the kitchen, finding that he's the last one to enter the dining room. There's a spot open for him right in between Tristan and Tristan's friend, Chion. The purple-haired man has eyes on him as soon as he enters the room, scrutinising his every move as he walks over to the empty chair. Lance just tries his best to ignore the distrust radiating from the man as he takes his seat. Tristan is currently chatting animatedly with the green-haired man on the other side of him. Lance smiles softly at seeing the two getting along so well.

"Alright! Who wants a drink?" Donny calls, drawing everyone's attention as he picks up the corkscrew that Lance had set on the table.

"Please be careful, Donny." Nasiens pleads.

"Don't worry, I got it." Donny waves him off.

"Yeah, don't worry, Nasiens. Donny learned his lesson from last time, when Anne damn-near beat the shit outta him." Lance teases the man, Gawain, Anne, Nasiens, and Percy snickering at the comment.

"Oh?" Jade raises an eyebrow in amusement and curiosity.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Donny grumbles, pushing the screw into the top of the champagne bottle and pointing the bottle in the direction of the kitchen, holding it close to the doorway. Everyone in the room winces at the loud pop as the bottle is opened. Donny then proceeds to fill everyone's glasses halfway, setting the bottle in the middle of the table and sitting back down.

"Oh! Does this mean we can do a toast?" Isolde says from her spot between Anne and Gawain.

"You should do one." Gawain suggests, elbow on the table and her head resting on her chin as she appears to admire Isolde, a look on her face that Lance hasn't seen in years. Well, that's new. Lance makes a note to keep an eye on that.

"Oh, well," Isolde looks around the table, receiving encouraging looks from everyone. "Well, I guess we should toast to new friends. I think I speak for all of my friends here when I say that we're very hopeful for the rest of the weekend. You all seem so wonderful already and this whole place is beautiful. So, thank you." She finishes speaking with a shy smile, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Cheers!" Tristan exclaims, reaching his glass out to clink against hers and then everyone else's as they all do the same.

From there, everyone begins to eat and dinner is anything but quiet. Everyone's chatting and having fun, though Chion seemed a bit uneasy the whole time. Halfway through dinner, Tristan's hand grabs his under the table and Lance intertwines their fingers together. Tristan turns and beams at him, bringing their hands up to his lips and kisses the back of Lance's. Lance then proceeds to look away and act as if the blush growing on his face isn't there as he continues eating, swearing he hears the prince snicker quietly beside him.

~*~

The next day, almost everyone sleeps in, unsurprisingly, and that includes Tristan. Something else Lance has learned about the man is that when he doesn't have anything to do the next day, he really likes to enjoy his sleep. Lance went and got groceries early on, returning with breakfast for everyone, though it ended up being more like lunch for a lot of them. And then it was collectively decided that they would all head down to the beach, as one does when staying at a beach house.

"So, you remember how you owe me one, right?" Tristan comes up to him and crouches down, his hands resting on his knee and his chin resting on his hands.

"Of course I remember. Why?" Lance asks from his place in the sand, leaning back on his hands and his legs stretched out in front of him to allow the water to run over them. His fingers tap against the sand as he stares back at the silver-haired man. 

Tristan gives him a shy smile. "I think I know what I want you to do."

He tilts his head at him. "Really? Ready to cash in already?" He jokes and Tristan giggles, nodding his head. "Well, what is it, then?"

The prince bites his lip, his body doing a small wiggle motion that Lance finds extremely cute. "Be my boyfriend?" He asks quietly.

Lance's breath hitches and he stares into his eyes, searching them for any hint of joking. All he saw was a mixture of anxiety, hope, and affection. "Is that all? Cause if that's the case, then you really don't need to use your favor to get me to say yes." He says, sitting up and reaching out to grab one of Tristan's hands in his. "I was plannin' on askin' you the same question already." He tells him.

Tristan's eyes light up. "So, is that a "yes", then?" He asks.

"Yes, your majesty, I will happily be your boyfriend." Lance grins at him, the sentence making his heart soar.

Tristan squeals slightly, jumping at him and tackling him into the sand, giving him a kiss that takes his breath away. Lance laughs against his lips and wraps his arms around the shorter man's waist, kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm. The silverette holds the blonde's face with both hands and deepens the kiss, swiping his tongue over the other man's bottom lip. Lance accepts him, delving into his mouth and sucking on his tongue, drawing a moan out of the prince.

He pulls back and looks down at Lance. "I think I need a shower. Come help me clean up?" He asks coyly.

"Sounds like a good idea to me." Lance whispers. Tristan climbs off of him and stands up, Lance following suit, and Tristan grabs his hand, intertwining their fingers as he leads them back up to the beach house, leaving everyone else to their own fun.

The two of them quickly make their way to their shared bedroom for the weekend, going straight to the connected bathroom. Tristan turns on the shower and adjusts the temperature as Lance goes up behind him, planting kisses down his bare back as he reaches for the waistband of the silverette's swim trunks and pulls them down, sucking and nipping until a mark is left at the base of his spine. He stands back up as Tristan turns around, stepping out of the trunks pooled at his ankles and running his hands down Lance's sides and over his hips until he's pulling Lance's swim trunks down as well. Lance leans down and kisses the prince as Tristan starts walking backwards towards the shower, pulling the other man with him as he steps inside under the spray of water.

Tristan reaches down and grabs Lance's cock, rubbing his thumb over the tip and drawing a groan out of the blonde-haired man. Lance bends down to grab the backs of both of Tristan's thighs, pulling the man up and placing his legs around his waist in one quick motion, causing Tristan to let out a small squeak as his hands latch onto Lance's shoulders. Lance chuckles as he presses Tristan's back to the shower wall. The silverette arches into him, his body instinctively reacting to the cold tile touching his skin, and the action causes his cock to rub against Lance's. Both men moan into the kiss, pressing closer to find that same friction again.

Lance grabs his bodywash from one of the shower shelves, pulling back from the kiss. "I'm supposed to be cleaning you up, right?" He says huskily as he pours some of the soap into his hands, blindly putting the bottle back on the shelf as he keeps his eyes on Tristan.

"Yes, I do believe that was the intention of this shower." Tristan says, smirking as he runs his nails down Lance's chest lightly.

"Thought so." Lance says as he reaches down and wraps his soap covered hand around both his and Tristan's cocks, holding them in a firm grip and giving one, single tug before stopping and Tristan bucks his hips up, trying to get a continuation of the motion. Lance tsks and changes his grip on the prince, instead grabbing tight hold of his hip and pinning it in place.

Tristan gasps and bites his lip. "I love it when you take control." He comments.

Lance gives another tug, this one quicker. "You implying that I usually don't, little prince?" The pet name slips out, something he'd never called Tristan before, but it gets a very noticeable reaction from the other man.

"N-not at all, s-sir." He stutters out, his eyes wide and dark, the absolute furthest thing from innocent.

That flash of heat runs through his body again at being addressed as such and he pumps his fist as he growls out, "Say it again."

"Sir. P-please." The silverette tries to move his hips again.

"Stop squirming, little prince, and I'll give you what you want." He breathes out. Tristan whimpers, but stays still, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "Good." The blonde whispers, before making good on his promise, pumping his fist and continuing the motion instead of stopping after just one pass.

Both of them groan and Lance starts moving his hips in time with his fist. Tristan lets out a whine and Lance digs his nails into the prince's hip, a warning for him not to move yet. Lance speeds up the motions of his hand a bit, groaning. "L-Lance. Sir." Tristan's voice is strained and Lance presses their foreheads together.

"Almost there, sweetheart, just wait a bit longer." He pants.

He jerks them both off quickly now, chasing both their highs but his main focus is Tristan in that moment. They both moan together as they get closer, the hot water beating down on them without much notice from either one.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Tristan chants, his back arching forward more with each curse and his body starts tensing up, like a coil getting ready to spring, and Lance is feeling much the same way.

"That's it, little prince, let me see you cum." The taller man encourages, and that was all it took for the silver-haired man to fall apart in his arms.

"Oh, Lance!" He shouts, body locking up completely as he cums hard. Lance tries his best to keep watching the beautiful sight unfolding before him, but his own orgasm takes over and his vision blurs as he cries out Tristan's name in return.

Tristan comes down from his high with another whimper, Lance with a soft groan, and both of them become still finally except for the heaving of their chests as they try to catch their breaths. "Damn." Lance says.

Tristan giggles. "I cannot wait to do some more exploring with you."

~*~

A/N: What do you think?? Did you guys like this chapter or no?? Tell me your thoughts, I wanna know!!! I actually got this chapter finished last night but afterwards, I was so tired and felt like I was about to pass out from exhaustion, so I just waited to post this chapter until after I woke up but I woke up much earlier than I planned and Imma prolly go right back to sleep after I finish posting this, ngl. BUT whenever I wake up again, I’ll be working on chapter 6 and chapter 6 will definitely, 100% be out later today, so watch out for that!!! Ily, guys, thank you for reading!!!!

~*~

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@darkelf-7​

@ivyllamauwu​​

[Lemme know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series and any other stories relating to it!!!]

[prettybubblesintheair]

Ok so wait I’m so excited to be reading this right now hahahaha

It’s 2:40 am and I wanted no I needed to read this, I couldn’t wait no more.

So first of all omfg I forgot he told the houses SHE WAS PREGNANT AND SHE WAS HIS FIANCÉE I was like whaaaat and then immediately I was like WHAAAAAAAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT HE SAID THAT HAHAHAHA I loveeeeeeee him SOOOO F MUCH.

He putting his hand in his shield just in case is a mood 💗 yes baby you protect yourself from your Baroness hahaha. Can I just say I love that his first thought was the shield and not his dagger 🥰💗 he’s IN LOVEEEEEE.

"I can ask you the same question. Why did you literally stab me with a blade and leave me bleeding on the ship so you could play 'How to Destroy the Atreides House', risking your life, and worse, without me? I should punish you for that, little witch."

I love him, I will love him FOREVER 😭💗

"Now... I'm going to lock you here, and I am not going to let you go out until we create this heir of ours." He mumbles against your neck, placing feathery kisses there.

Can you hear me giggling like crazyyyyyy omfg it’s the middle of the night and I just giggled really loud and I’m kicking my feet omg I cannot with “In Love Feyd” he’s such a 🥰

OMFG I JUST LOVEEEEEE THAT ❤️‍🔥🔥🥵 is their new normal, that they can just lock themselves up and just be together, YAAAAAAAS so well deserved, they match each other’s freaks and I love them for it.

"Have I ever asked anyone for their opinion? Have I ever cared about the opinion of these old people?"

He’s soooooooo 🥰💗💗💗💗💗

"It is not. I know it well. You never wanted to be just a concubine. That's why you didn't want to accept my courtship for a long time. I don't want you as my concubine; I want you as my wife. I need a strong baroness by my side—one that will be just as terrifying as me. You can't refuse me now. Not after what we went through to be here. I know you don't care about the opinions of anyone in our council, so tell me why you don't want to become my wife, little witch?"

Have I said I LOVE HIM WITH ALL MY HEART enough times? Cause I don’t feel like I have, he’s soooooo freaking adorable and he’s everything 😭💗💗💗💗💗

"I promise, I won't hurt you. Never. Not me. I promise to protect you against everything that will come and to be by your side for good and bad. I promise you all of myself and everything I am. I promise to go back to our bed and keep you in it even after the worst quarrel in the world, because I am nothing without you by my side, and I prefer to argue and fight you forever than not to have you with me. I... I just want you."

I’m actually tearing up, THE CHARACTER GROWTH omfg like woooooooow, he’s changed sooooooooooo sooo soooo much from the beginning to now, I’m so proud and im so in love with him 💗💗

Those were the perfect vows if I’ve ever heard them, absolute perfection.

They are so sweet and adorable together in their own way, absolutely made for each other. I don’t know how she lasted so long cause if that was me I would’ve had folded a long time ago ahahhaha. I’m OBSESSED with them.

"So clever. My baroness. My wife." I’m SOOOOOOOOOO 🤭🥰😍💗

OH NOOOOOO FEYD NOOOOOO BABY, don’t get angry 😭😭😭 and don’t leave omg 💔 I’m like jumping from one emotion to the other, I just want them happy and in loveeeeeee, but of course it wouldn’t be Feyd without a little bit of spice.

Him not wanting to fight her but stills ends up fighting with her likeeeeeee hahahaha and he doesn’t want to hurt her so he is not putting his all into the fight and theeeeeeen he is like ok but not harming the babies, I just loveeeeeeeeee them so much, I’m so happy they resolved their little argument the same day.

TWINS THEY ARE HAVING TWINS AAAAAAAAHHHH 😭💗💗💗💗💗

The mental imagine of Feyd cuddling her pregnant belly and being all cute and adorable is sooooo precious 💕🥰

THE BABIES ARE HEREEEEEEE and yeeees the babygirl being a daddy’s girl and the baby boy a mommy’s boy that’s sooooo cuteeeeeee.

And you will fight for your family with everything you have. Against every Bene Gesserit and everyone who wanted to hurt you or separate you. Being Feyd's right hand has prepared you perfectly for this.

I’m actually sobbing, I can’t believe this is oveeeeer, my heart, they journey was amazing, heartbreaking and precious, I WILL LOVE THEM FOREVEEEEEEEER.

My heart is sooo soooo happy they got their happy ending with their babies and each other 💗💗💗💗💗💗😭😭

Thank you thank you thank you for writing such an amazing story, it was ABSOLUTELY DELIGHTFUL and will forever live inside my head and heart rent free.

Sending you all the love in the world and the best vibes your way darling, I hope you are fine, healthy, loved, safe and happy. Sending you lots of hugs too.

THANK YOU for writing such a beautiful FEYD 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

Right Hand - Epilogue

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: Your future with your baron. Your dream future. Your long-won future. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; It's very hard for me to end this one… Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART VI ~•♤♤♤•~

"Count Rabban." You nod when you pass Feyd's brother on your way to the throne room. To your surprise, the man stops and bows to you, which makes you frown at his extraordinary and strange behaviour.

"Lady Y/N. My congratulations." The man says, stunning you for a while. Your heartbeat accelerates when you wonder how the hell he could tell that you are pregnant.

"Um... thank you." You answer uncertainly and look at Feyd. He tightens up at his brother's words; you can see that he is clearly furious at his brother's comment. What the fuck was going on here?

"You should go, brother. We still have a lot of rats to hunt down." Fed says this and puts his hand at the bottom of your back, pushing you towards the throne room, as if he wanted to walk away from Rabban as soon as possible.

"Of course. I'm surprised you won't join me, but if I were you, I'd keep an eye on my woman too. After all, pregnancy is a real blessing for us.” You froze at his words. You look stunned at Feyd, who seems to be getting more and more… nervous. You frown, confused by everything that is happening around you. Since when in hell have these two been civil towards each other?

"Obviously. Just go." Feyd hastens him and practically pushes you into the throne room. He shuts the door behind you with a loud bang, not allowing any servants or guards to follow you.

He doesn't give you a second glance. He goes straight to the Arrakis projection and starts explaining to you the recent actions he took while you were... unconscious. However, you can't focus on what he's saying; your thoughts are still revolving around what Rabban said, so at some point during his long speech, you simply interrupt him and blurt out:

"Pregnancy? Who the hell is pregnant?"

There is a long silence in the room after your question. You think this is the first time you've seen Feyd-Rautha… embarrassed. And as much as it's a new and strange sight, you want to know what the hell is going on. So you walk up to him and grab his chin tightly, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

"I could have mentioned that you were with my heir to mobilise our troops to march to the desert and stop the great families from... complaining about me searching for you instead of focusing on killing Muad'Dib." You blink a few times, staring at him in shock when you hear this.

Your hand falls between you, letting go of his chin, which you can tell he's mildly happy about. You frown, trying to imagine him telling all the great houses that you were pregnant with his child.

Which actually isn't far from the truth now…

"I… Why the fuck am I not even surprised? Anything else besides this fake pregnancy?" You ask, shifting your gaze from him to the map of the desert, where the points of stationing units, the movement of soldiers, observed points, and recently conquered objects were marked.

"I couldn't say that you were just my concubine. They wouldn't take me seriously..." He starts, eyeing you carefully, having no idea what you were going to do. Just in case, he puts his hand on his belt, ready to activate his shield at any moment. Although he doubted anything could actually protect him from your anger.

"What the hell did you tell them?" You ask, annoyed, turning to face him. He takes a step back, pretending to move something on the map, but really wanting to be as far away from you as possible when he gives you this message.

"That you are my fiancée." He repeats calmly, taking your exasperated sigh and rubbing of your temple as a good sign. At least you're not attacking him with a blade. Wouldn't the idea of marrying him be as... repulsive to you as it used to be?

"You announced to the great families that I am your fiancée AND that we are going to have a child? And they believed you?"

"Yes, why not?" He asks, furrowing his hairless eyebrows at your surprise, slightly offended that you thought it was such impossible thing to happen.

"Because the very idea of you proposing to me is ridiculous and unrealistic." Your eyes widen as you see him move to kneel in front of you. You grab his elbow tightly, not letting him move even an inch, as you shut down his attempt to propose to you. "Do NOT do this now. How could you? And behind my back..."

"I can ask you the same question. Why did you literally stab me with a blade and leave me bleeding on the ship so you could play 'How to Destroy the Atreides House', risking your life, and worse, without me? I should punish you for that, little witch."

You stare at each other defiantly, each insisting that the other is wrong and carries more fault. However, the more you think about it, the more you come to the conclusion that maybe he was right. You both did shitty things. And it is possible that you will make even more of them in the future.

"Call it even?" You finally ask, deciding to let it go this time. After all, you had smaller things to worry about. Arrakis. Emperor. Irulan. Maybe he will finally tell you what happened during your... not necessarily voluntary absence.

"Only this time." He nods, cupping your cheek in his hand. He seals your deal with a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and joining yours in a mad dance as Feyd steals the air from your lungs.

You moan into his mouth, cradling his cheeks in your hands and bringing his face closer to yours as his hands rest on your hips. He manoeuvres you across the room, making you both approach the large throne. You break your kiss as he pushes you onto the stone seat.

"So... what's now?" You ask, placing your hands on his shoulders as he leans on the armrests of the throne, leaning over you.

"Now... I'm going to lock you here, and I am not going to let you go out until we create this heir of ours." He mumbles against your neck, placing feathery kisses there. You sigh softly, running your nails over his bald head.

"Of all the possible excuses, you had to come up with this one?" You ask, trying to maintain what little control you have as the pads of his cold fingers lazily stroke your collarbones. He squeezes your breast, earning a small gasp from you, and he chuckles contentedly, biting into your neck. He reluctantly pulls away from your neck and rests his forehead against yours, taking a moment to look into your eyes.

"I wish you could have seen their faces." He whispers hoarsely, making you shiver, and kisses you again. His plump lips take their time caressing yours as he enjoys the kiss, finally having all the time in the world to bask in your warmth, scent, and taste.

You smile into the kiss, distracted by his proximity. It seems unreal that the two of you can just enjoy each other without worrying about other things, without any urgent matters to attend to, enemies to kill, or evil plans to carry out. It was weird. Pleasantly weird. But you had been under the pressure of something for too long to just enjoy this peaceful, blissful moment without trying to find an excuse to stop him.

So when his hand goes under your skirt and lazily caresses your thigh, you place your hands on his chest and gently push him away from you. You look at him for a moment as he furrows his hairless eyebrows, trying to understand why you're doing this.

"Me too. But as much as I want to fool around with you, I think that we should focus on diplomacy and policy for a while. It wouldn't be in Giedi Prime's interest to create heirs before we establish government, and... can you stop undressing me?" You ask as his fingers begin to untie the bodice of your dress, realising that you were only pushing him away for the sake of politics and to solve Giedi Prime's issue first, which he obviously didn't want to do now.

"I have been covering the policy for the past few weeks. Now, I have more important things to worry about. Like how to untie those damn strings with one hand."

"But... the council..." You try, sighing as his mouth attacks your neck again as he loosens the ties of your dress, exposing your breasts to him.

"They will wait." He mumbles as he moves from your neck to your collarbones, his fingers teasing your nipples. You sigh, biting your bottom lip as he explores every little bit of your skin. "I have a little fantasy that I want to fulfill with you, little witch…" He purrs against your breasts. You hold your breath as he suddenly grips your hips tightly and lifts you up. He sits down on the throne and settles you on his lap, completely removing your dress and throwing it behind him. He licks his lips, staring at your naked form, and you blush under his watchful gaze. Bastard…

"But… oh, Feyd…" You moan as he leans towards you and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. You dig your nails into his shoulders. Sitting astride him and stabilising herself on his lap. His other hand slides from your chest down your stomach to your core as he teases your overstimulated pussy. He chuckles against your breast, only intensifying your sensations as he discovers how wet you already are for him.

"Yes… that's right, my right hand. Allow me to repay you for your faithful service to your new Baron." You kiss him hard, passionately, tugging at his clothes and stripping him off of them roughly, wanting to feel his abalaster, muscled chest as quickly as possible.

He doesn't do anything to help you. He just teases you, getting you so aroused and excited that you can't even dream of interrupting him again. Instead, you take and take everything it has to offer you. And it's a pleasantly blissful change.

"Marry me." He whispers in your ear when you lie wrapped in sheets in his bedroom after a fairly intense session.

You sigh and roll your eyes at him. He had been trying to convince you to marry him for a week, and as pleasant as the idea seemed, you were well aware that it wasn't that easy. He couldn't just choose a wife, and moreover, a woman without a family name or fortune.

"You know it's not that easy. I have neither titles nor a significant family name. I am only your right hand. The Council will never support this idea." You sigh, snuggling into him. He huffs, offended by your response, but wraps his arms around you anyway and holds you tightly to his chest. As if to at least make sure that you wouldn't be able to leave him even though you didn't agree to marry him.

"Have I ever asked anyone for their opinion? Have I ever cared about the opinion of these old people?"

"No. But you should. You are a baron now. Marrying me would make you weaker in their eyes. Besides, being your concubine absolutely suits me." You speak even though you don't know who you're trying to fool. Yourself, him, or both of you.

However, you don't take into account that he knows you perfectly. He grabs your chin with two fingers and forces you to look into his icy blue eyes. You shiver as his piercing gaze reaches almost to your soul.

"It is not. I know it well. You never wanted to be just a concubine. That's why you didn't want to accept my courtship for a long time. I don't want you as my concubine; I want you as my wife. I need a strong baroness by my side—one that will be just as terrifying as me. You can't refuse me now. Not after what we went through to be here. I know you don't care about the opinions of anyone in our council, so tell me why you don't want to become my wife, little witch?"

You look at him for a long moment, wondering how much you can tell him from what you saw in your visions. He senses your hesitation and gently pushes you off of him and moves to get out of bed, but you stop him by wrapping your arms around him. You rest your chin on his shoulder and whisper into his ear.

"I … I had visions … visions in which our marriage ended terribly … and I don't want it to happen. Not after how long we fought for each other." You say that and press a kiss on his earlobe. You hug his back, ready for him to walk away from you in anger, but instead, he places his hand on yours and squeezes it tightly.

"Haven't you been the one who did not believe in the prophecies and fate? Who believed that we create our destiny ourselves?"

"Yes, but..."

"Then marry me." He interrupts you and turns to look at you. He cups your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. "I promise, I won't hurt you. Never. Not me. I promise to protect you against everything that will come and to be by your side for good and bad. I promise you all of myself and everything I am. I promise to go back to our bed and keep you in it even after the worst quarrel in the world, because I am nothing without you by my side, and I prefer to argue and fight you forever than not to have you with me. I... I just want you."

His words tug at your heart. You know he's not effusive, that he doesn't like talking about his feelings, and this is a very rare moment when he shows you his weaknesses. And you really appreciate it, but you can't help but have doubts.

"But what if..." He doesn't let you finish your sentence. He cuts you off with a kiss, caressing your lips with his, preventing you from making any protest.

He places his hands on your waist and holds you tightly close to him, ignoring your attempts to speak. He pushes you onto the bed and looms over you, still kissing you. Not until he's sure he's taken any air from your lungs.

You inhale quickly, flushed as he strokes the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone, drinking in the appearance of you beneath him: flushed, dishevelled with beautifully swollen lips.

"Marry me." He whispers, pressing a short kiss to your lips. "Marry me." He repeats against your cheek. "Marry me." Another feathery kiss, this time on your earlobe. You shiver as his hot whisper reaches your ear. "Marry me." A kiss on your neck. "Marry me." A kiss on your collarbone. "Marry me." A kiss in the valley of your breasts. "Marry me." A kiss on your stomach. "Marry me." A kiss on your pussy crying with need.

You sigh, scratching your nails against his scalp as he keeps whispering the words against your clit, working towards your orgasm as if you're going to say yes and accept his proposal the moment he takes you over the edge. At first, you find his attempts absurd, but with every second, every kiss, and every whispered request, you realise how much you want to just say yes and let him do whatever he wants with you.

You wrap your legs around him, digging your heels into his back and pulling him closer to you. His hand wraps around yours in a tight grip as his tongue works tirelessly to please you. You don't know how he keeps whispering his request, but you know when your eyes meet for a moment that you can't respond with anything other than...

"Yes."

You growl as he stops all his movements and lifts his head to look at you. You tighten your legs around him, willing him to move back into place, but he stays firmly above you.

"Feyd..." You complain, but he silences you with a quick kiss, so quick that you don't even get a good taste of yourself on his tongue.

"Later, impatient needy witch." He scolds you. In retaliation, you reach for his nipple and pinch it, making him growl. He squeezes your hips and leans in to leave a hickey on your neck.

"You made me this way." You complain, propping yourself up on your elbows and pressing your lips to his, stealing a kiss from him with a giggle. He pushes you back onto the bed, your head bobbing, and he smiles, showing you his black teeth.

"And I plan to do much more to you when you're my wife. So, will you marry me, little witch?"

"Why doesn't this sound like a question but a threat?" You ask, smirking, not yet giving him the answer he wants to hear. You can barely contain your chuckle, watching as he furrows his hairless eyebrows at you in irritation.

"I've been asking you for a week, it's your fault my tone changes from day to day when you keep me waiting."

"Don't you know that the best things are worth waiting for?"

"They are. And I've been waiting for you for years. So maybe you can finally end tihis? Can you do this for me, my right hand? Will you be my baroness?" He asks you, stroking your cheek, giving you his full attention as he waits for your response. But you just can't help yourself from teasing him a little bit more.

"Such a high promotion… people will think I slept with you to get it." You joke stupidly, enjoying your small victory, when he rolls his eyes at you in annoyance. You're lucky his daggers were abandoned halfway from the door to the bed... otherwise you would have ended up with a dagger at your throat long ago. Not that he would ever hurt you. Just to scare you a little.

"Y/N..." He growls at you and nuzzles your temple. You place your hand on his neck and pull him into a gentle kiss, lazily brushing your lips against his. A low murmur escapes his throat as he pulls you closer to him.

He's practically lying on top of you, keeping his body weight on his arms but letting you feel every inch of him against yours. You enjoy this newfound intimacy with him. This closeness, sense of security, love, deep adoration, and peace. So how can you say no to him when he prolongs every second of your kiss, tries to maintain contact with your body as long as possible, and treats you with a tenderness he has never shown to anyone before?

"Yes... yes, I will marry you." You whisper, smiling as you watch his reaction. He doesn't believe you at first, trying to make sure you're not joking with him again, and when he makes sure that you have no intention to take back your words, he leans in, crushing his lips against yours.

You smile throughout the kiss, even as he pinches your sides, his form of punishment for teasing him for so long. He bites your lip, just enough for him to taste your metallic blood on his tongue, sealing the deal between the two of you. You take his hint and bite his lip yourself, drawing blood from him.

"About damn time." He murmurs against your lips, letting you take a few breaths before trapping your lips in a needy kiss again.

Such a moment of bliss and tenderness between you is very much needed. Especially after recent events. However, you know that you won't be able to enjoy peace with him for long. But as long as you both had each other's backs, you could face the world. And soon you will have one more little human to protect.

You stand in your blood-red wedding dress, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Baroness of Giedi Prime. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought you would come this far, especially not when you boarded a Harkonnen ship in fear to escape the Bene Gesserit and your destiny. The destinies you were meant to fulfil... just a little differently than the Reverend Mothers would have wanted.

"The essence of the bride hunt is that she runs away from her groom. She is not supposed to be waiting in their chamber for him. I didn't expect you to make it so easy for me to catch you. This isn't like you." Feyd grumbles, suddenly finding himself behind you. You sigh as he wraps his arms around you, pressing your back against his chest. You take his hand in yours and squeeze, resting your head on his shoulder. You can't help but smile as your black and gold wedding rings reflect in the mirror. "You've ruined my fun, wife. And I should consider leaving the veil outside our bedroom door as an insult and your lack of faith in my abilities to find you."

"I didn't feel like running away from you today. You could say you've had your fair share of bride hunting over the years I've been here." He chuckles against your neck, placing a few small kisses there.

"So clever. My baroness. My wife." He purrs, marking your neck, releasing one of his hands from your grip, and removing the ruby necklace from around your neck.

"I have a gift for you." You tell him before he starts stripping you out of your wedding dress. Black diamonds woven into your dress create beautiful, embroidered red flowers, and the sleeves and neckline of the dress are decorated with lace, of course, also in the colour of blood. You think Feyd sacrificed a few slaves on purpose to show the seamstresses... the perfect colour for your wedding dress.

As beautiful as the dress was, you'd also rather have it lying on the floor. However, you need to tell him something important before he starts your wedding night.

"You have? I did not expect it. I have nothing in return for you. I can always…"

"You will not bring me the heads of your concubines on a gold platter. We agreed that they would become my servants and that would remain so." You interrupt him before he can propose it to you again. You watch him take a breath before he speaks again. You place your finger on his lips, silencing him, knowing full well what he wanted to say. "I don't want anyone's head. It's enough for me that you hung Atreides' head like some kind of decorative horn in the throne room. By the way, we'll have to take it off when the Emperor's delegation arrives."

"Again, you're spoiling my fun, wife." He grumbles, offended, but doesn't let go of you from his embrace. He rests his chin on your shoulder and looks at the two of you in the mirror. He plays with the bandage on your hand and smiles, remembering how he pierced your joined hands with a dagger a few hours ago. You were his. His baroness. His woman. "What do you have for me?" He asks, nuzzling your temple before pressing a kiss to your earlobe.

Your eyes meet in the mirror as you take his hands in yours. You gently slide them down from your collarbones, over your chest, and into your belly. You press his hands so he can feel the tiny pregnancy bump through the fabric of your dress.

You watch his reaction carefully, biting your lip as you try not to smile at his shocked look. His fingers press further against your stomach, as if to make sure what he feels is real. He tenses when he realises it's true.

"You are… how long?"

"A few weeks."

"A few weeks?" He asks, both surprised and offended that you kept him in the dark for so long. You frown at him and turn to look at him properly and not through the mirror.

"I wanted to make sure she is okay and grows properly."

"She?" You frown when you hear the disappointed tone with which he receives this information. You feel the anger boiling inside you, all the joy and excitement leaving you as you realise this isn't what he expected. That he expected you to give him the Kwisatz Haderach first.

"Yes... is that a problem?" You ask him, furious. He realises what it might have sounded like to you. He sighs, looking away from you and focusing on the wall behind you. He clenches his fists and takes a few breaths, trying to calm down and not think about how you could ever accuse him of discriminating against your unborn child based on gender.

"NO. Not at all. I don't care about the sex, as long as it's healthy. I just... thought we were going to have a boy first." You shudder slightly, remembering what Atreides had shown you on Arrakis—the future that would await you at the hands of your own son. But it was different then.

You did everything to prevent your future from being like this: you confessed your love to Feyd first, you made sure that you showed him the same devotion as he showed to you, and you made sure that your firstborn would be a daughter. However, there was still a small seed of fear in you. After all, Feyd killed his mother, so how could you be sure that, ironically, your potential son wouldn't do the same?

"What's wrong?" Feyd asks, cupping your chin between his two fingers. You flinch, but you don't move away from him.

You place your hand on his, holding it in a tight grip as you steady your breathing, not even noticing that you had found yourself in such a state of panic. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, the beating of your heart, and the feeling of Feyd's hand in yours as you try to calm down.

"I… had… visions."

"Of course. Visions." He replies mockingly and removes his hand from your grip. He takes a few steps back, looking at you with reproach and bitterness in his blue eyes, which now resemble the ocean in a dangerous storm. "I thought that by defeating Atreides, we were done with visions, fate, destiny and especially with hiding important information from each other. But I guess I was wrong after all. Well, so do you. You can take the Bene Gesserit out of the order, but you can't take the order out of the Bene Gesserit."

"Feyd… it's not like that." You say this as you reach for him, but he pulls away from you before your fingertip can touch his skin. It hurts you that he thinks you have any connection to these witches, but you can't say you're surprised by his behaviour or that it's unreasonable. You just couldn't tell him what you saw without worrying about him getting paranoid.

"So what's it like?! You're not hiding anything from me? You don't make decisions completely by yourself? I understand that you want to be your own boss and make your own decisions, but you're my wife! What would you do if the roles were reversed? What if I hid from you what you hid from me?!"

"Feyd..." You try again, but this time he pulls away from you as if your touch would burn him. Before you can say anything, he storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him with such force that you're sure everyone in Giedi Prime heard it.

You sigh in defeat and lean your head against the wall. You hiss as the crown on your head prevents you from leaning back comfortably. You yank it out of your elaborately styled hairstyle and throw it across the room, not even flinching when the jewels shatter on the floor.

"Don't worry my sweethearts, everything will be fine. Dad's a little mad at me, but he's right. Even if he acts like an overgrown, spoiled little baby. I promise you that I will do everything to make us happy. All four of us." You whisper, wondering how the hell you're supposed to deal with your angry husband. This is not what your wedding night should be like. But was anything in the two of you's lives as it should have been?

"I'm having a little déjà vu, aren't you?" You ask, leaning on the doorframe of his private training room as his 'toy' falls dead under the blow he received from the furious man which now is your husband.

You're reminded of how you found him here in a similar condition a few months ago. Only then were you just his right-hand man, and he showed no... visible signs of interest in you. And now you were his wife and pregnant. And thousands of other things happened along the way.

"Leave." He growls at you and plunges his blade into the dead man several times. You sigh, throwing the towel you brought for him to the nearest chair and pulling out your own dagger.

"Fight with me." You request, looking at him carefully. He stops in his process of punching holes in the dead man's body, changing it into a sieve, and he looks at you in shock.

"You are with child." He responds emotionlessly, going back to abusing the prisoner's body.

"And? I haven't been pregnant that long that I can't kick your ass." You can see that this comment irritates him by the way he plunges the dagger deeper into the man's flesh. He clenches his jaw tightly, trying his hardest not to snap at you. After all, you were pregnant. He had to be gentle with you.

"Get out of here, woman. I won't fight you in this condition." He replies firmly, turning his back to you and walking to the table to pour himself some water.

You take a closer look at the muscles in his back; his body is painted red with the blood of the people he killed in his rampage. You purse your lips, shaking your head.

You sneak up on him and press the blade to his throat as he drinks. His Adam's apple bobs at the feeling of your cold steel against his neck. He turns his head to give you an annoyed look, as if you were a cat that had scratched him with its claws.

"Y/N..." He mutters menacingly, clenching his hands into fists. You lean in, lips brushing his earlobe and biting it after you whisper back:

"Feyd."

The low growl is all the warning you get. He pushes you away from him and reaches for his blade. You block his attack, your steels colliding with each other in a distinctive clanging sound. He doesn't move to attack first, watching you carefully and blocking your every attack as you try to leave a small scratch on his skin. You're furious that he's holding himself back and that he's making sure his blade doesn't even touch your skin, which is exposed by your regular combat gear.

You growl as you manage to break through his defences and stab him in the shoulder. He screams in anger and finally starts attacking you. You gasp, blocking his blows every now and then, and for obvious reasons, he doesn't hit you from the waist down. You're starting to get tired, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins and your own pride won't let you stop your fight. Feyd notices it, though. And he decides to end it.

He drops his blade and grabs your arms tightly. He pushes you against the wall, pinning you against it with his body. You both breathe quickly, staring wordlessly into each other's eyes as you press the dagger to his neck. His black blood drips from his shoulder onto the floor, the only sound in the empty room apart from your ragged breaths.

"I love you. Don't ever doubt that." You whisper and lean forward, capturing his lips in a furious kiss. His fingers dig into your arms even more, surely leaving small bruises in the shape of his fingertips as he uses his body to block you from making any movement.

You moan, pressing the dagger harder against his throat as he bites your lower lip. Feyd growls, and with a quick, confident movement, he grabs the gun from your hand and throws it across the room, unknowingly hitting the dead man's body.

You moan as his hands land on your hips. He lifts you up, rubbing his length against your pussy and biting your chin. You growl, digging your nail into his neck and wrapping your legs around his hips, gasping as you become wetter with each of his light thrusts into your clothed core.

"If I knew that all I had to do to get you like this was to argue with you, I would have done it the moment you chose that disgusting cake for our wedding."

"The cake was delicious, it's not my fault you're such a picky pain in the ass." You mumble back and bite into his neck. He moans softly, grabbing your hair in a tight grip.

"I quite like being a pain in your ass." He says this and grabs your hips. You wrap your arms around him and hold on to him as he carries you through the halls of the Harkonnen stronghold. You hide your face in the crook of his neck, trying to ignore the curious glances from the servants and passersby who look away as soon as they meet Feyd's hostile gaze. "I wish I had the opportunity to get you out of that dress. You looked beautiful at our wedding."

"I won't wear that dress again just because you decided to do your monthly sulk today. It took the maids an hour to put me in it." You grumble as he opens the door to your chambers.

"Do not worry honey. I'll undress you. And I will dress you up. And I'll undress you again. I have all the time in the world, my wife."

"And here I thought you'd rather spend your time differently than dressing me like a doll. More… active and enjoyable." You giggle as he places you on the bed at your remark. His fingers wander under your black linen shirt as he unhurriedly undresses you.

"Do you doubt that I have the time, skill, and stamina for both?" He proves his point by leaving a few hickeys on your neck. You smirk, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer to you. You wonder since when he has so much power over you (and you over him) that it only takes a few hours for you to reconcile.

Either you've come a long and successful way in developing your relationship, or you're simply getting too old for constant drama and want to finally have a moment of peace. But you weren't complaining if every little fight you had would end with you acting like idiots in love with each other again at the end of the day.

You sigh, drawing patterns on your husband's head. His arms tighten around you as you move, as if he's afraid you'll try to get away from him.

"As much as I like this, I must remind you that you have other responsibilities as a baron besides holding me."

"Possible. But holding my pregnant wife is my most important duty, to which I choose to devote myself completely today. Especially since you are getting closer to giving birth. The birth of twins, I would like to point out." He mumbles, pressing a kiss and rubbing his nose against your bump, and nuzzling into you.

"It's just childbirth, not a fight on Arrakis against the Fremen." You joke, rubbing his back. He purrs, snuggling even closer into you, making sure his arm wraps protectively around your belly.

"I'd be a lot more confident about your safety if you went to fight those rats instead."

"Said the man cuddled up to his pregnant wife." You try to ease his concern just a little. But you know your husband very well. Enough to know that he's stubborn as hell to give in so easily and forget about his fears.

"Does it bother you that I'm forming a bond with my unborn heirs?"

"No. Not at all."

"So let me continue, little witch, or I will silence you." You laugh, fully aware of his ways of shutting you up. He rolls his eyes at you, stands up, and kisses you, making you giggle even more. He breaks the kiss and presses his lips against your forehead before returning to his position as your protector.

"I'll be alright. We're okay. All three of us." You assure him and place your hand on his cheek, caressing it tenderly.

"I should punish you for hiding something so important from me again." He brings up the fact that… I missed telling him that yes, you are pregnant, but with twins. A girl, as you said, and a boy.

"That was months ago. Besides, there are many things I told you. Like my visions and everything. And I didn't get an award for it, so you can say we're even."

You defend yourself, and he just chuckles. A rare thing. But it seemed that with you and in the solitude of your shared quarters, (yes, he refused to have separate bedrooms. Something about how he had waited too long for you to spend even a night without you in his bed now anyway.) he did it a lot more often.

"You're way too smart, little witch. If you didn't love me, you would dethrone me in a week."

"Maybe even less." You banter with him with a smirk. You squeal as he tickles you, feigning outrage at your insult. You grab his hand in a tight grip and stop him.

You both freeze when your stomach suddenly bulges in one place. Feyd looks worriedly from you to your belly and hesitantly reaches up with one finger to stroke the small bulge. It disappears as quickly as he touches it. You giggle, realising that one of the kids must have stuck out its leg.

"I will teach them to fight. Both of them. They will be great leaders. One will get Arrakis and Lankiveil and the other will get Giedi Prime. They will support each other and fight for each other. They will get everything."

"Everything we didn't have."

"Yes." Feyd says thoughtfully, examining your belly. He presses his mouth there and cups your belly with his hands. You giggle when you suddenly get kicked by one of the twins, and you pull him towards you to hug you again.

"To be honest, I expected the first thing you would do was make them fight the snakes to prove their strength."

"I'm not my uncle."

"I know." You say and press a kiss to the top of his head. "You're… so much more. Someone much better than anyone ever wanted or thought you were. Never doubt it."

He nods and hugs you tighter. You sigh, happy with how close he is to you and the way he holds you. You could assure him that everything was fine, but the truth was that you were afraid of what the future would bring. If you were wrong... no. You couldn't think like that. You had Feyd by your side. And that was all that really mattered.

"We should name the girl Katerina."

"Katerina? Why?" You ask, turning your gaze towards him and frowning. The last thing you would expect him to do was to think about names for your children.

"I have a good feeling." He replies with a shrug and pulls you closer to him. You know him too well not to know he's up to something. However, you decide not to ask him about it. After all, each of you deserves to have your little secrets. Something you both learned to respect.

"Well, since you've already named the girl, I want to name the boy." He smiles and kisses the corner of your mouth at your request.

"And what do you want to name our son?"

"Feydor."

"Feydor? Why?"

"I have a good feeling." You answer him the same way. He rolls his eyes, but he doesn't ask you anything either. He hugs you tighter and presses his lips against your forehead. It's nice to have him so close to me and feel almost... normal.

Even if your normal was completely different from what was generally perceived as one.

"Your son got lost in the halls of Giedi Prime, the guards and harpies barely found him." Feyd grumbles as he enters the war room. You look up from the papers and watch as your husband slumps onto the sofa with a glass in his hand.

"My son?"

"Our son." He corrects himself, knowing full well better than to raise your ire with such a simple mistake.

"Are you blaming me? Need I remind you because of who Katerina almost killed the heir of Caladan last week because she was bragging about her fighting skills by actually fighting that boy in the arena?" You reproach him. He rolls his eyes and puts his half-full glass on the table next to him, not protesting or arguing with you. "I thought so. So don't blame me for teaching our son my tricks when you teach yours to our daughter."

"I can't believe how easily you turned me into an obedient husband." He complains, standing up and walking over to you. He rests his chin on your head and looks over the conquest plans you've made, glancing at the reports from the front that Rabban sent you.

"It wasn't that difficult at all." You banter with him and cup his chin. You kiss him, enjoying the softness of his lips. He cups your cheek in his hand and deepens it, moaning into your mouth.

You stop when you hear giggling coming from the secret corridor leading to the room. You raise an eyebrow and listen, realising that it's your twins trying to sneak up on you two.

"These kids are going to kill us both."

"We won't give up without a fight, my Baron." You whisper, standing up silently, making no sound as you two establish a 'plan of attack' on your children.

"Oh we certainly won't, my Baroness." He agrees with you with a smile. You answer him with your own, your teeth as black as his.

A moment later, the laughter of your two children echoes throughout the Harkonnen stronghold as you go on a little chase through the secret corridors.

The dagger that Feyd gave you hangs as a decoration in the war room. The steel is old but in good condition, although it is chipped in several places. Or rather, melted under the influence of the blood and wounds you inflicted. You never decided to repair it. It was a reminder of what you went through. All the way from being Feyd's right hand to the Baroness. His wife. The mothers of your two children.

Any visions of the future you had were good. Maybe not perfect, but what would your life be without a little bit of struggle? You and Feyd have proven that you can overcome any obstacle, enemy, or anything that could tear you apart. You were above fate and destiny.

And you will fight for your family with everything you have. Against every Bene Gesserit and everyone who wanted to hurt you or separate you. Being Feyd's right hand has prepared you perfectly for this.

So, this is the end. It feels strange to part with this story (it's the first time I feel this way). At first it was supposed to be just a oneshot, but thanks to your comments and involvement in the story, this miniseries was created. Thank you all for every comment, heart and all the love for this story. Thank you!!!!! (And I hope you will stay longer, for another mini-series with Feyd. ;D) Thank you so much again!! 😊🥰🩵🩵🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🩵🩵 ~ Kasagia

Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @harkonnin @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896 @oneandonlybbygrl @noirecatt @iloved1lfs0 @mamawiggers1980 @lololfixu @barnes70stark @obsessedvibee @aaaaaamond @workof-a-rr-t  @oneandonlybbygrl @alexa4040 @lowlyloved @toertchen @em-100 @caintheking @justarandomflowerchildofthenight @hrtifyeren @psychoffin @avidreader73

[ruminate88]

Where to Place The Blame?

12/27/24

If you KNOW you’ve been mentally or physically abused, don’t take that out on others because you’re only hurting innocent people who had nothing to do with what you went through. I know you don’t even know where to put all the anger or the blame. How about instead of putting blame anywhere, you get yourself alone and deal with the core of you. Also, you do need a higher love and power to guide you out of the darkness. Only years after my last toxic relationship, do I even understand how deep this all runs and that it’s not just “someone was being mean or being a jerk.” NOOOO!!! That person who hurt you has been through stuff you can’t understand but until that person is willing to actually deal with it, they’ll only hurt you…..

I married a nice guy finally after multiple toxic relationships but I’m angry at him. I think all men are pigs and I am becoming resentful of all men in general. I have a sour taste in my mouth and I hardly wanna look at my husband, let alone “touch him” but yet… he’s done nothing to me 😢😢😢 he’s done nothing but marry me, support me financially and be loyal to me… SOOOOO, I realized I was looking for a place to put the blame and anger from the past. However, you have to learn to deal with it in a safe and healthy manner. It’s easy to point fingers especially at my exes. My recent ex, I wanted to hit him and scream in his face every day but yet….. that’s not fair. I know he hurt me soooooo much but he has his reasons. Not to say what he did was okay but when I understand on a deeper psychological level, that possibly he’s been abused before me, wow……. Suddenly my anger lessons. Do I think he’s self aware??? I have NO idea and even if he is, it’s not ok what he did to me but making him “pay for his sins” is not gonna change anything. I’ve been on a journey of forgiveness for both him and myself. It’s NOT been easy or perfect I can promise you that. I wanted to slander his name a time or two but… it will only bring more damage, yes I’ve written down the past not to keep record of his sins but acknowledging my own pain and learn how to deal with it properly. Choosing to remain no contact with my ex and pray not to hate him or hold a grudge. I don’t wanna resent him or any man….

By NOT choosing to place any blame and releasing the anger little by little, I can see hope for love again and open up space in my heart for my new man. It’s important to safely talk about what you experienced so you truly can release anger ❤️‍🩹🌹🌹🌹🌹 Love to all of you. May you come alive in 2025 🙏🏻🥰

[gayliketheancients]

Gay rants: chemical depression & writing fanfiction

I'm a bitch who loves to ramble, so get some popcorn.

Okay, soooooo. Between C-PTSD, SA survivor status, and a sprinkling in a bit of seasonal depression, I have been a mess lately. My heart has been unable to pull itself out of the pit, too far down to see a glimpse of sunlight in opposition to the immediate, desperate darkness. And I expected all of this, okay? I had an easy season last year, which meant this season was going to especially fucking awful. My worst feeling turned out to be correct when the chemicals dropped right before my birthday in the middle of September.

I feel fucked up. My mind is a constant echo of the knowledge I will die by taking my own life. It's... scary to think about. I have been suicidal for so long that I have accepted the only way is to go out on my terms, in my own time. and I give myself new reasons to stay all the time, new projects to work on and stories to write.

That's why so much fanfiction has left my brain over the last 10 months. Setting this challenge was the most insane thing I could have done. Writing a million fucking words in the span of 12 months is mission fucking impossible. but I'm going to do it. I'm on track to win. I have so many stories to tell before I leave.

and the complexity of my mental space is not something that can be boiled down to pure suicidality. I have hope. I want things to be better. I want to live, despite the fact that I cannot seem to learn more than just surviving. It is not fucking easy, not in the slightest. Living feels like the most exhausting job some days. But I do it because somewhere out there, there's a kid who was just like I was - scared, confused, feeling guilty or alien or even both as they try to navigate the world around them. I live for them, for the feeling of opening a fresh notebook or the first sip of a really good cup of coffee. I live for the ability for these stories that flow from my hands onto these pages, and for those pages to have the opportunity to help someone feel seen, feel heard.

I am fucking disabled, dudes. I have long accepted my status as the stone top who will probably not try to date again for a long time. It is inherently selfish to ask someone to love me considering the level of care I will need later in life. and that doesn't even consider the fact I have accepted the forever yeet at my own hands is inevitable. How could I possibly ever ask anyone to even try and know me, knowing that giving other the option to love me is really just promising them a lot of pain down the road?

I want to love, I want to be loved. I don't want to fight all the time. But in this world, money is power, and all I have are words. Words mean nothing if they are not backed by action, by money. In this way, I have nothing to offer but love, and the market is in far too bad of a state to accept what little I have to give.

The longer I think about it, the more I find myself resolute in the fact that I do not belong anywhere. Not this body, not this life, not this period of time or existence.

....I hope the stories are at least decent. I feel like I'm shouting into the void, screaming for someone to hear more than what the words say.

it's allowed to be that deep.

[teenytinyjournalqueer]

I wish I could get you to see this whole thing through my eyes…

You: hey “Jack” so I wanted to tell you the truth. She and I aren’t just friends we are in a serious monogamous committed relationship and we are very much in love!

Him (to you): oh okay cool…. *cue “nice guy” face*

*not even an hour later on the same day and also the first day him and I met*

Him (in front of both of us): Hey M! You should totally go on this WEEK LONG work trip with me half way across the country alone and share a hotel room with me that only has ONE BED even though you’ve repeatedly told me that you aren’t interested!!! I’ll even pay for your airfare!”

Me: Hey!!! Seeing as you (Jack) and I just met I’m really not comfortable with you taking a week long trip with my girlfriend ALONE half way across the country when she’s REPEATEDLY told you she’s not interested!!! Especially with you wanting to share a hotel room with a single bed, knowing you’ve openly had a crush on her for over 10 years now and seem to have a HUGE problem understanding that NO MEANS NO! So if ya’ll decide to take this trip I’d like to tag along! I’ll pay for my all my own stuff, hotel, flight etc! And then M can sleep in my hotel room so she’s not literally locked in a room with a man 3x her size who doesn’t understand the word NO halfway across the country!

Him (visibly aggitated); NO ABSOLUTELY NOT!!! My job wouldn’t allow that!!! My job doesn’t allow people to tag along on our trips!

Me: Then how the fuck did you just offer to bring M? Plus, me going has literally NOTHING to do with your job as I’d be paying my own way and booking everything completely separately from you!

Him: oh that’s different! I like M! So I can do whatever I want!

*later that same day the first second he has alone with me while you aren’t anywhere nearby*

Him: You do know the only reason M is even giving you a second look is because I wasn’t around to date right? She’s totally been in love with me since High School and now I’m literally kicking myself for not getting back into contact with her sooner! Now she’s STUCK dating you! Don’t worry though, I’ll win her back. Because jeez have you LOOKED in a mirror! She’d never ACTUALLY choose you over me! This is all just a phase she’s going through. You were just the best she thought she could do!”

*later that day when you got home and I pull you aside to talk to you about his and my interaction*!

You: Bree! You MUST have somehow misunderstood him! He’s a good guy and would NEVER say such a thing! Don’t worry I’m not interested in him and he and I are NEVER going to date! Don’t worry you’re not losing me!

Me: I’m super uncomfortable with you even considering taking this “work trip” with him! I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him and I can’t even lift him!!!

Me: *spends literal hours begging you not to go on this trip with him*

You: *reassures me that this *trip* will look good to your homophobic parents and provide us at LEAST a year of safety….

*3 weeks later you leave on the trip with him!*

Fast forward a bit:

You: So remember how you begged me not to go on the trip because you couldn’t mentally or emotionally handle it and were super up front about how there was absolutely no way to hide how upset you were?

Me: yup I CLEARLY remember!

You: well because you were unable to hide your emotions EXACTLY like you said you wouldn’t my parents are kicking you out and not letting you stay with us any longer because even though I promised that trip would provide us a year of safety it did absolutely nothing except PROVE to my family that you don’t think I am human garbage and that’s “too gay” for them, soooooo now you have to go beg your abusive “family” to let you stay on their couch so that you’re not being forced out into the street!

*months after*

You: Hey so Jack wants to be poly with me and so he and I are going to start dating!

Me: but you said you’d never date him and you weren’t interested in him, and that he wouldn’t come between us!

You: I know baby, but he’ll provide us public safety bc my parents are literal human garbage and super homophobic…. Don’t worry it’s not like it is with us and he’s ace anyway!

*you proceed to date him*

You: Oh btw things are getting physical between him and I

Me: but you assured me he was ace?!?!

You: he is!

Me: if he’s pressuring you to be physical with him then he’s NOT ACE! He’s just straight up lying to you!

Literally every single thing you told me wouldn’t happen with him has happened. He pushes his way between us every single chance he gets. I don’t like him or trust him and because of his actions I NEVER WILL! He will tell you whatever you want to hear and the SECOND you turn your back or are out of ear shot he will straight up tell me a completely different story. He may have told you he liked me as a person but I would bet my life on the fact that he DOES NOT! He is doing whatever he has to do to get in your pants and trap you. He is going to do everything in his power to make sure we have ZERO chance at a future together, you and I.

You spent months and months telling me I was the one who was wrong about him and that I had it all wrong, only to be proved right by him and his actions TIME AND TIME AGAIN!!!! I can never and will never like or trust him. He will do or say WHATEVER he has to with you around to keep up the charade, but it all changes the MOMENT you aren’t around. He literally tried EVERYTHING in his power to ruin the vacation we had to let him tag along on. If he knows you and I have FIVE WHOLE SECONDS alone together he HAS to talk to be in contact with you for that whole five seconds. You and I aren’t even in the same part of the state right now, he can see you literally any time he damn well pleases, and yet if I even so much as send you a TEXT when he is with you he throws a full blown tantrum/meltdown. I know you continue to tell me that you can “handle him” and “he knows you don’t play” but baby he’s the one playing YOU. You’ve given him all the cards and he’s never going to let us have a life together. He’s not going to stop until he has you all to himself and I am dead, because even he isn’t stupid enough to believe that there is ANY scenario in which I am still breathing and not in your life. I’m losing hope for our (yours and my) future together fast. My life literally isn’t worth living without you in it, and he’s doing everything in his power to make sure you can’t be in my life or me in yours. Sometimes you slip up and you say things like “well even if *we* (you and I) can’t live together then you’ll just visit!” But I don’t think you understand that I cannot stand even the thought of him getting to wake up and go to sleep next to you every morning and see your beautiful smiling perfect face, while I wake up and go to bed alone and *maybe* get to talk to you ONLY when he isn’t around. Because we both know that even if by some miracle that all starts out okay, visits will get fewer and farther between, the time we have together will ALWAYS get cut short (by him or your family) and in the end he’ll just stop letting you visit all together. I’ve spent my entire life alone. Even when I was living with other people, I was always alone because no one I knew could even stand my existence. I don’t want to keep spending every single second alone while knowing and watching him get to spend every single second with you and not even appreciating it. Being in your life and getting to know you is the most beautiful perfect gift in the entire universe and he doesn’t even care. He may SAY he loves you, but he damn SURE doesn’t show it.

[teddybeartoji]

THE TIME HAS COME (🤨🤨🤨) I HAVE NEVER BEEN THIS READY FOR ANYTHING IN MY WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE

i have my tea i am comfy in my bed and i will go insane. i already know that this is gonna be really dumb but i think i've already made it rather clear that when i get excited i also get really stupid so yk you've been warned!!!! i do wanna apologize for taking a minute on this but I PROMISE THAT THIS WAS ON MY MIND EVERY SINGLE DAY MY SWEET SWEET ARI i love you

and a knight.  (or… a wolf?)

YEAHHHHHHHHHH off to a great start already i'll have you know i will not be normal about any of this every single line will get a yell out of me and you can only blame yourself okay

so i've been reading for exactly two minutes and i have tears in my eyes THE WAY YOU DESCRIBE EVERYTHING MAKES ME WANNA BAWL MY EYES OUT and i think i mean that in a good way. it's diabolical really.

and there’s a knight, just ahead, tall and imposing, covered in steel from head to toe. holding a blinding sword, facing the sky, doing nothing to stop the pitter patter of raindrops ricocheting off his burganet. you stand by the entrance of the woods, and watch him in silence.  he looks a little lonely. 

the way i could see him so clearly in my head aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i just immediately thought of his eyes too.... like the glimpse of his wolfish dark purple eyes peeking from underneath his helm.... you didn't even write about them but i just.... yeahh

they run in circles around each other, like the sun and the moon, an orbit of violence, matching their steps. almost in harmony — almost, but not quite, because suddenly they’re closing in on you, great and ugly, beasts wearing different hides, and —

fuck off i love this soo so much already it sets the tone for this so fucking well big dreamy sigh ari i'm letting out a big dreamy sigh

”and a guy… he was cool.” 

hashahshahsah i already know that i'm gonna love this reader this is so cute imagine seeing a knight and then just going cool and now imagine me fucking saying that as if I DON'T SAY THAT ALL THE FUCKING TIME WHAT

the woods you long for. the ones you’ll never get to see up close. 

AAAAAAAAAAAAA BEING A ROYALTY AND BEING STUCK IN A STUPID CASTLE WHEN ALL YOU WANT TO DO IS TO RUN IN THE FOREST AND BE FREEEE GODDDDDDD SAVE MY LITTLE ROYALTIES KNIGHTS SAVE THEMMM look ari... i love you i'm gonna say that a lot but i just i can't NOT say it your art literally brings me so much fucking joy that i can't hold it back

WAITTTT HAHSAHSHASHGHAHHA THE READER CALLING THEIR KIDNAPPER HOT WTF THEY'RE LITERALLY MEEEE EEEE THAT'S SO FUCKING FUNNY GUSHING OVER HIS SCAR AND HIS BICEPS BRO I'VE NEVER FELT MORE SEEN THAN I DO RIGHT NOW

ari/mickey hivemind goes crazy likee yessss make the king a real fucking piece of shit!!! yeah yeah yeah!!!!! ari do you think we should send our father to therapy yes or yes?

TOJI MENTION TOJI MENTION WAITTTT JASHASFAHGSHAGSHA I DIDN'T THINK THE KIDNAPPER WOULD BE TOJI EHEHEHHEHE STOPPP THIS IS SO FUNNY I MIGHT BE A LITTLE STUPID FOR NOT THINKING THAT EARLIER BUT HEHHEH

that is what royalty means — absolute dominion.  (it makes you want to curl into a ball.)

such a good line what the fuckkkkkkk imagine being a literary genius at the ripe age of 19 whewww

the young royalty being soooooo sick of being told to behave aaaaaaaaaa my baby my poor baby

a velvety voice. silky, smooth, tailored by the finest seamstress — tucked between the slightest raspy vowel, a hint of something deeper. it sounds like honey, wine, a molten mass of spring clouds. 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THE WAY MY OWN BREATH JUST HITCHED I THINK MY HEART STOPPED TOO OH MY BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL BOY I LOVE HIM SOOOO MUCH I CAN SEE HIM IN THE ARMOR SOOO VIVIDLY HE'S GORGEOUS AND AND AND HIM AND HIS DANGEROUS LITTLE SMILE GODDDDDDD I NEED TO BE SEDATED AND HIS VOICEEE FUCCKKKKKK AND HIS EYESSSS YEAHH I'M SO GOOD SO GOOD

and he's so charming it hurts but you KNOW it really is that sort of dangerous charm, the lying type, the masking type - the type to attack when you least expect it

the knight chuckles; muffled by his closed fist. he’s feigning embarrassment, you can tell.

MMMMMMMMMMMMM he's a little shit what he is (affectionate)

lips pursed, like they’re aching to bare and to bite.

wolfy sugu is so ready to jump out and well i am ready for him to do that okay love how you don't say bark bc he'd never bark. he's either quiet or he's biting there is no inbetween

...studying his smile, picture perfect, tailor-made, sweet enough to melt on your tongue. so sweet you know it must be at least a little bit fake — the smile of a liar. 

YEAHHHHH THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUTTTTT okay no i need to say it again.... i love him. and i love how you write him ari. he's never felt more alive than he is in everything you write. it feels like you literally know him, he feels so real. and again i just love how you describe everything he gives you a tilt of his head, strands of charcoal following the movement. smooth, like a waltz, one you didn’t agree to. like yeah what if i'm having a braingasm rn what about it

”aren’t you grateful? this handsome, kind man is all yours.”

😳😳😳 damn the reader is better than i bc i think my knees would've buckled at least A LITTLE at that like even if he's like ugh a knight who's gonna like protect me or whatever HE'S STILL THE PRETTIEST GUY OKAY CAN'T EVEN BE MAD AT HIM PROPERLY

omfg sugu saying "my lord" MY MY MY MY that made my heart flutter a little too wheww i'm folding already

ARIIIIIIIIII EEEEEEEEEEEE THIS READER IS SOOOOOO MWAH MWAH MWAHH I LOVE THEMM WE'RE HOLDING HANDSS THEY'RE DOING THE BARKING WHILE SUGU IS DOING THE BITING IT'S THE DREAM DYNAMIC

(he’s your knight, now. indefinitely yours.)

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE YOUR KNIGHT HE'S YOUR KNIGHT YOURS YOURS YOURS

”i promise to be the most insufferable lord a knight has ever had. i won’t make your job easy for you.” and suguru only chuckles. raspy, like the bark of a tree, claw marks on the ground. ”good,” he grins, eyes rich with mirth, golden pears hanging off the branches. ”i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

it's official guys. this fic is gonna kill me. i'm already looking for a place to lay my bones in. yeah yeah. such a shame right. you can get the uh funeral info from ari. yeah they caused this so they have to deal with it. thanks for listeningAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARIII EVERYTHING YOU WRITE TASTES LIKE HONEY I FEEL LIKE I'M STUCK IN HONEY AND IT'S THE GREATEST THING OF ALL TIME

hello??? him crouching down when he's waking you up my brother in christ i think i'd have to just lay a fat fucking smooch on his forehead just bc he's so fucking close HOW COULD I NOTTTT sigh i love how soft he's being even though he's a literal knight with blood on his hands and sharp canines in his mouth and yetttt here he is as gentle as ever

when you hear the creaking of the door, as he steps over the threshold, you barely restrain the urge to kick your legs in victory. now he’s sure to get you the wrong breakfast; and then you can be as difficult as you please, demanding something else, over and over. an ungrateful, spoiled little brat. that’ll definitely make him quit. 

😐😐😐😐😐😐don't even have to read the next part to know what's coming.......................... oh sweetie.... oh you poor thing.... can't underestimate suguru like that...... he's literally the best guy around AND HE BROUGHT THEM A LITTLE BIT OF EVERYTHINGGG WHAT DID I SAYYYYYY ARI I'M GONNA RIP MY HAIR OUT I'M GONNA BE BALD BY THE END OF THIS YOU'RE INSANE ARI N SUGU IS A FUCKING CRAZY DUO WE CANNOT HAVE THE TWO OF YOU TOGETHER THEY'RE GONNA GIVE US ALL HEART BURNN

...

WAIT

WAIT

WAIT

WAIT

ARI

ARI

ARI WAIT

HE COOKED ALL OF THAT?????????????? ASAJKSAHDGJHALSLDHKAUWDHWUDHALKWDAUWDAKWHDKAWGDKUAWHD,AJWDKAWDWHAKJDHKUWAHDKAWJD THEY PALE I PALE WHAT I'M- WHAT

okay that was fucking insane i need a minute i think ARI WHAT DA HELL HE'S A KNIGHT AND HE'S BEAUTIFUL AND HE HAS THE SILKIEST VOICE AND HE SNARLS AND HE HAS TEETH AND HE COOKS AND HE TEASES AND HE COMFORTS AND YEAH FUCK OFF ACTUALLY + and then the reader mocking him and him just laughing BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I CANNOT DOO THISS i'm melting into a fucking puddle and you have to clean it up!!!!!

”no kissing involved.”

:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

WOWWWW NANAMI MENTION!!!! i love when other character are mentioned i think it's super sweet that they all still exist in the same world always always always

in a matter of seconds, you seem to deflate, slumping back until your spine meets the headboard. sulking silently. ”so you didn't pull your sword out of a rock?” you huff, mood souring again, a lemony flavour in your veins. ”lame.” ”stone,” he corrects, unperturbed. ”and i'm afraid not.” he gives you another one of his placating smiles, barely concealed amusement swimming in his amber eyes. ”i pulled mine from an oak tree.” … ”wait, really?” the gleam in your eyes is back. suguru almost, almost feels bad. ”depends,” he quips, shooting you a lazy grin. ”how gullible are you, my lord?” (... oh. he was teasing you.)

STOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP THE WAY I WOULD FALL FOR THIS TOOOO AAAAAAAAAAAAA SOO STUPIDDD AND THE WAY I MADE FUN OF PRINCE!GOJO BEING GULLIBLE IN MY AU TOO BROOOO I'M JUST LIKE THEMMM I WOULD NOT RECOVER FROM THIS also your readers are always so relatable and it feels so good to connect with them bc this is most definitely the kind of royalty i'd be okay there's no way i could ever Behave

i'm sorry to bring up my prince!gojo again but i just keep thinking about him too yk.... how the royalties just want people to call them by their name.... to feel NORMAL for once aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

the reader painting the wolf and sugu complimenting them............ oh and the reader smiling at his sincere praise:(((((((((((((((((((((( and sugu in turn thinking that they're cute:((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((fuck

closer to meeting the little lamb beneath the wolf’s hide.

+

you have to be mean.

the little lamb who feels the innate need to be mean, to act tough in order to live. what if i jump of a bridge ari hm i am in a desperate need of a refreshing little swim i'll be fine in a few years (what if i also say....... my knight!reader........................................)(but they had to sow the wolf's hide onto themselves while your royalty!reader will most likely be able to leave it behind or atleast throw it aside for the time being)(sigh)

him having a moment there omfg what if he also had a dream???? i mean why else would he have this little huh? moment right????? fuck i think i'm reaching lmao LET ME BEEE OKAY

solitary, blurry; baring its fangs towards no one at all. a sorry spectacle of teeth.

ari my sweetest little poet i love you so you can't just drop these bangers on me and expect me to not shower you in love??? dummy

NOOOOO THE LITTLE BOY:((((((((((((((((((((((( oh and i can imagine sugu's angry eyes here toooo mmmmmmmmmm damn

(so this is how you get under this skin. cruelty, aimed not towards him, but towards the defenseless.  what a picture-perfect, self-destructive little knight.)

.................................................................. now i really don't know if i can keep going i'm gonna take a piss break then i'll get to contemplate our marriage on the fucking toilet brb okay i am back and i do not feel any better i need to hug a pillow or smth i think

(in your chest, your heartbeat tick-tocks.)

YEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH BABYY YOU GOT ONE OF THOSE TOO BITCH I MEAN BITCH AFFECTIONATELY I LOVE THEM BUT'S TIME TO BE A LOVER AND NOT A HATER MY LITTLE LORD YOU

AAAAAAAAAAA THEM GETTING ALL NERVOUS AND FLUSTERED BC YEAHHH GUESS WHAT YOU ARE KIND AND LOVING!!!!!! YOU ARE!!!!!! and sugu is just aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i'm melting they're melting we're just a big puddle of goo together

”a little sweetheart who pretends to be all big and bad…” he eyes you up and down, a meaningful look, raven locks moving as he tilts his head. towering over you. ”is that what you are?”

CAR CRASH SOUNDS WEEEEWOOOOWEEEEWOO SOMEBODY CALL THE AMULANCE WEEWOO BEEEEEP BEEEP AND THE POLICE OH MY GOD IT'S GONNA BLOW EVERYBODY GET AWAY FROM THE CAR AAAAAAOOIUGHHHHHHH STATIC NOISE BEEEP HOSPITAL SOUNDS HEART MONITOR GOING AN EVEN LOUDER BEEEEEEEEEEP i died

(you just want him to stop looking you so fondly.)

should i add some more car crash sounds or do you understand what i'm going through rn? ARI MY MOST BELOVED LITTLE FLOWER ON THIS EARTH I AM KISSING YOU ON THE FOREHEAD N PETTING YOUR HEAD YOU'RE SO GOOD YOU'RE SO SO FUCKING GOOD

suguru speaking so calmly, so smoothly while staring at them. taking in every little twitch, every little footstep, every little huff with a smile on his face i'm so fucking dead the reader feeling Seen and it just scaring the livining fuck out of them too aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa and then sugu holding back a coo bc He Knows he's beginning to understand them aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa ari i need to kiss your knuckles one by one and your wrists you need to feel my love

sugu calling the reader sweetheart :/ JHAGSALHDIAHDJWDGAHKD just inhaled so hard i started coughing i am unable to be normal

”… thanks for breakfast.”  suguru beams, and you avoid his gaze, like always. biting into one of the rubies, the soft murmur of thanks still burning your tongue, soothed by sweet nectar. he lets you flee, lets you continue on like nothing happened, like it isn’t obvious how much you’ve warmed up to his presence. 

nothing warms my heart more than your art btw thank you for sharing your mind and your world with us ari my sweet

KNIGHT!SUGU ASKING FOR A FAVOUR HE JUST A BOY HE JUST WANTS TO TUSSLE WITH HIS FRIEND A LITTLE AAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE HIMMMMM AND THEN THE READER TELLING HIM THAT THEY WANT TO SWING A SWORDDDD PLEAAASEEEE I THINK I SAY THAT UR READERS ARE THE MOST RELATABLE ONES EVERY TIME BUT THIS TIME!!!! THIS TIME!!!!!!! THEY'RE EVEN MORE RELATABLE THAN EVER I LOVE THEM SOOOO MCUH I WANNA HUG THEM

... wolfing it down. WOLF MENTION WOLF MENTION WOLF MEN-

OH FUCK OFF YOU CAN FUCK RIGHT OFF (affectionate) SUGURU IN A LITTLE FLIMSY BLOUSE???????? I MIGHT'VE JUST POPPED A BONER I'M SORRY AAAAND IT'S ALMOST SEE THROUGHAAA ND YOU CAN SEE THE SSCAR AND AND AND H-HIS BICEPS GULPP HAH AND THEN HE HE PUTS HIS HAIR IN A BUN BROOOO I CAN'T I HAVE HORNY TEARS IN MY EYES I DIDN'T KNOW THAT WAS A THING

JADUDHWADWLAKHDHUHNSFIEFHAL THEY BITE HIM!!!! THEY BITE HIM!!!! I NEED TO DO THAT FUCK OFF THIS PERSON GETS ME SO WELL I LOVE YOU ARI YOU'RE A TRUE FUCKING BLESSING TO THIS WORLD AJHIDBKJAWDBANA WAITTT AND THEN HE GRABS THEIR FACEE AAAAUGHHHH AND OFFERS MORE SKIN TO BIIITTEEE AAAAA I'D SAY THAT I'M SPEECHLESS BUT THAT'S CLEARLY NOT TRUEE WHAT THE FUCKK

”i’m… just keeping you on your toes,” you stumble for an excuse, still unable to look at him properly. missing the way he stifles a bout of laughter. ”for your training, y’know? gotta stay on your guard.”

EEEEEEHEHEHEHHE this made me laugh so hard they're so real. and a little stupid. still very relatable. i just can't get over the fact that sugu just let it happen though....................... he definitely would so idk why i'm so surprised actually i don't think this is me being surprised i think this is me being flustered okay mystery solved thanks

HAIBARA MENTION!!!!!!! I REPEAT HAIBARA MENTION!!! THT'S SO CUTE ARI!!! HE'S SOOOO ADORABLE AND AHSHAHSHAH THE READER BEING THROWN OFF BY HIS ENTHUSIASM so so cute

SUGURU HOLDING A SWORD SUGURU HOLDING A SWORD SUGU-

PLEAAAASEEEEEEEEEEEE THE SWORD BEING TOO HEAVY FOR THEMM😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 waittt and them being embarrassed bc of it:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((MY BABYYYY + sugu trying to comfort them saying they weren't making fun of them my heart is crying he's such a sweetheart i need to kiss him wait what who said that

”… maybe next time,” you finally speak, still grumbling. after you’ve spent some time lifting weights in your room.

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 MY LITTLE MEOWMEOW:((

SUGURU POUTS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA wait i think it's time for me to yap again. i love knight!suguru sooooooo much moss is a fucking genius for coming up with that i love their knight!sugu and i love your knight!sugu you guys just get him like nobody else does okay i love you

(not to injure, but to ground yourself, he’s learned. like how you clutch onto the fabric of your clothing when you’re nervous, sink your nails into your palm. not to injure, but to feel safe.)

ouchie ouch ouch

RIBCAGE MENTION RIBCAGE MENTION

”who are you?” comes a question, as the man turns to face him with a look full of contempt. ”their knight?” before suguru can say anything, you’ve hopped off the bench. clinging to him, with a firm nod; your arms around his bicep. ”yeah. he is.”

MELTING MELTING INTO THE BIGGEST PUDDLE OF GOO I AM A RIVER I AM A LAKE I AM THE OCEAN I'LL SWALLOW YOU IN RETURN FOR WRITING THESE FUCKING LINES ARI OHHH HOW GOOD THAT MUST'VE FELT FOR SUGURU TO FINALLY HAVE THE READER CLUTCHING TO HIM TRUSTING HIM AAAAAAAAAAAAA + him guiding them with a hand on their back i have hearts in my eyes

nooooooooooo my baby has really been cooped up in the castle:(((((( i'm gonna break them out myself i will do it!!!!

”i thought of you.”

RRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH THE FEELING THE FEELINGS MAN him going out of his way to bring them a gift like this telling them that it made him think of them it's so over for me even if he just asked haibara to bring it it's still going out of his way bc c'monnnn knights aren't supposed to be gifting the royalties anything Ever and yettttt here we are ohh sugu:(((((((

ribcage mention a very important ribcage mention hey what does it feel like to be living inside my ribcage ari hm???? you have your own place in here i'll keep you warm n safe i promise. this gift means so much to them i wanna cry. and the little be good with no funny little quip-back ohhhhhhhhhh:(((((

HAHSHAHSAHSHAHSAHAH THE GOOD OLD PILLOWCASE N BEDSHEET ROPE ARI I LOVE IT

sighhhhh they just want to see the world ari:(((((( they're so sad they're so upset and they just. want. to. see. the. world. they're so used to hiding their sadness, so used to just acting annoyed at everything aaaaaaaaaaa it hurts ari it hurts they just want to feel the grass under their bare feet, feel the wind in their hair when they're running through the trees AAAAAAAAI'M GONNA CRY

you only shrug. ”i’m not surprised that they eat us.” you think of all the stories you’ve heard, the fairy tales you grew up with. ”… if i was a wolf, i’d hate humans too.” ”would you, now?” familiar amusement, seeping from his tongue, soft crows’ feet by his cedar eyes. ”good thing you aren’t a wolf, then. we’re lucky.” ”mhm. you’d be my first target.”

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭THEY'RE SO CUTE I LOVE THEIR DYNAMIC SO MUCH THEY WORK SO WELL TOGETHER

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmsugu being caught off guard by the fact that the reader wants to know more about him YEAAHHH TOUGH GUY IT'S YOUR TURN NOWW

uh oh knight!sugu vs my knight!reader moment............ he got lucky n scouted and ended up a proper knight...... while...... mine wasn't blessed by luck...... but them both still having the "protect the weak" mindset the brainrot is so real i can't escape it

the look in his eyes frightens you. deeper than the deepest lake, dark and murky, dragging him down. a devotion that smells of iron, tastes like steel. mania disguised as loyalty.

MANIA DISGUISED AS LOYALTY RRRAAAAAAAHHHHH I'M PACING AROUND IN MY ROOM I CAN'T SIT STILL ANYMORE YOU USE WORDS LIKE NO ONE ELSE YOU AND SUGU HAVE A LANGUAGE OF YOUR OWN AND I AM HAPPY TO BE WITNESSING IT you truly get him it's a wonder to read about

”… you’re a shy one, aren’t you?” he searches for your gaze, chuckling when he doesn’t find it. when you don’t let him. ”can’t even look people in the eye if they’re being nice to you… how precious.” ”oh, shut up,” you groan, glaring out into the night sky. blinking slowly, drowsily, biting back a yawn that your attentive knight still manages to notice.  (he looks a little enamored.)

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA my computer almost exploded here btw i don't know what happened i think it's getting a little overwhelmed too and by little i mean a FUCKING LOT i love them so much i keep saying it bc i just need to say it okay

MY SWEET LITTLE LORD ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND ARI holy fuck i am being changed as a person word by word you're a god no but him teasing the reader is soooo precious he never goes too far just on the edge of complimenting them and poking fun<33333333 ++ AND THEN THE READER BEING GREEDY GREEDY IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE ASKING FOR HIM TO CARRY THEM AND HE DOESSSS BECAUSE OF COURSE HE DOESS AA WHAT THE FUCKK IMAGINE HOW GOOD IT WOULD FEEL TO BE THIS CLOSE TO HIM TO HIS RIBCAGE TO HIS HEART

i love the tick-tocking. i love how you keep bringing up the clockwork hearts. i love it.

a sense of safety, when you can’t tell where your heartbeat ends and his begins.

what does it feel like being the new and better shakespeare btw i will make you famous idk if u don't care about being famous it's just about showing your art to everybody so you can feel the enormous love of the world directed right at you (fret not it's nothing compared to my love though)

like a big, annoyingly handsome rock.

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 HASGAHSHGHASHA i'm sorry this maybe shouldn't be as funny as it is but you know me i bet being in his arms would feel so fucking secure though????? like even when it's just bc he's holding you back from escaping or whatever

waiitttt hhihiihihi the reader is so funny actually sugu move along man i'm the new knight "like, as a bit?" hsjashahshagsga made me laugh out loud i nEEED to boop their nose they're so silly

”what are you, stupid?” ”what did we say about letting people finish their sentences?” he raises a brow, and you try not to cower. rolling your eyes, instead.

PLEAASEEE HAHSHASHAHSHA their banter is soo good wahhhh my babies my sweethearts i hope nothing bad happens to them .

a grin breaks out across your lips, like a joyous bolt of lighting, and you lunge into his chest — throwing your arms over his broad shoulders, jumping up and down, planting a wet kiss against his cheek. bubbly, giddy, heart racing with disbelief. you don’t even have it in you to be bratty. ”thank you, thank you, thank you!” suguru makes a choked out noise, a little comical, breath hitching in the back of his throat. stabilizing you with a palm on the small of your back, patting it softly, once or twice, before retracting his arm and pulling away. clearing his throat. ”… you’re welcome.” (his ears burn a cherry red.)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKKKK THIS AHSKGASIAHSJA IS SO FUCKING SWEET HELP MEEE SOMEBODY HIS EARSS ARE REDD I CAN SEE IT SOO CLEARLY TOOO AAAAAAAAAA THE FAINT TINT OF PINK ON HIS CHEEKS I KNOW HIS HEART WAS ABOUT TO JUMP OUT FROM HIS CHEST EEEEEEEEE CUTIES CUTIES CUTIES and just the fact that he folded is so good too he truly does just want to keep the reader happy wahhhh

your knight exhales. worried, maybe, a little exasperated — mostly just trying to mask how infectious your joy is. how addicted he is to it, now that he’s seen it up close. he’s only caught glimpses in the midst of your painting sessions; to see it directed at him instead of the wolf on your canvas is a treasure he won’t soon forget. 

oh it's so over for him. he's in it now. get loved idiot. ++ ari that last sentence................................. that's going in the quote book you can't argue with me bc it's already in there

did you really think you could slip that little "your knight" by me huh???? you're not as slick as you think you are little iris I SEE YOU

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH:(((((((((((((((( THEY'RE FINALLY OUT!!!! THEY'RE IN THE WOODS HOW GOOD THAT MUST'VE FELT HOW GOOD THE FRESH AIR FELT IN THEIR LUNGS THE SOUND OF RUSTLING LEAVES IN THEIR EARS I CAN FEEL IT MYSELF THIS IS WHAT BEING ALIVE FEELS LIKE

DOUBLE OHHHHH WAT HOW HE'S LOOKING AT THEM BROOO HERE COME THE WATERWORKS just so obsessed with their own excitement so happy that he can be there for it happy that he's the one that made this happen in the first place:((((((((((((((

tick-tock.

”will you trust this wolf to keep you safe?”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

him offering his hand and them FINALLLYYY TAKING IT ari i love them so much:(((((((((((((((((( they officially have a place in my heart next to the other knights and royalties hehehehe i'm so glad that we can share them i feel very honored

”keep me safe, wolfie.”

:(((((((((((((((((((((((they need to hug. like rn. or maybe i need them to hug me. idk. everybody needs to hug.

his laughter rings out into the air like a cicada song, sweet and nostalgic. or a howl, maybe. it makes you want to gnaw at his bones; memorize his taste, so you’ll never quite be without him. it’s not your fault he looks so chewable when he’s smiling like that.

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS 100000000% looks biteable and chewable and what makes that even better is the fact that he'd let you do that to him too... he'd let you bite and gnaw without a second thought he's so perfect

.......

oh he's so mean. HE'S SO MEAN. and the reader is so naive. and i'm so naive and he's so mean. /hj

gently, he grabs hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips as his eyes flutter shut. you bite back a squeak. his voice comes out low, sultry, honeyed — so heavy with emotion that it’s obvious he’s faking it. ”the only person i yearn to protect is you, my liege,” his breath feels hot against your skin. ”i could never love another. i exist for you, and you alone.”  suddenly, he’s smirking. you feel it against the knots of your knuckle, right before he cracks a single eye open. glimmering with deep amusement. ”… is that better?”

OHHHHHHHHHHHH HE'S MEAN MEAN. HE'S VILE HE'S WICKED AND I'M IN LOVE WITH HIM THIS IS SICKENING "possessive little thing....." 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

a big man down on his knees before you............................... i have a dream and that just might be it thank you for indulging me

”wolves eat bratty heirs, you know? better stay on my good side, your highness.” a bout of sleepy giggles. you curl an arm around his bicep, putting your weight onto him, but he doesn’t stumble. ”sorry, mr wolf! please, by all means, eat my dear father instead.” ”don’t be disrespectful.” ”sorry,” you quip, entirely unapologetic. ”i forgot you had a crush on him. that’s my ba — ow!” suguru brushes by you, walking forward, hiding his growing grin. leaving you with an ache in your hip and two wide eyes.  ”hurry up, my lord. we don’t have all day.” ”wha — you pinched me!” you stumble after him, barely containing your quiet delight. ”they’ll have your head for this, you know!” silent laughter. you don’t need to hear it to know that it’s there, just ahead of you, tucked into crows’ feet and a curl of his lips.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHE PLEASEEEE THEY'RE SO FUNNY TOGETHER THEY FIT TOGETHER SO WELL LIKE PUZZLE PIECES IT JUST FLOWS SO FUCKING GOOD AND I LOVE THEM AND I WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY AND I MIGHT'VE CAUGHT A GLIMPSE OF THE NEXT PART AND I AM NOW HERE HIDING BC I'M SCARED TO GO BACK THERE ARI PLEASE YOU'LL LET THEM BE HAPPY RIGHT??? I AM NOW VERY MUCH REGRETTING NOT READING THE CONTENTS FUCKK MEEE

suguru certainly isn’t. cutting his way through the bandit’s den, practically growling, sword painted such a dark shade of red that he doubts he’ll ever be able to wipe it clean. harsh slashes, pure instinct, wildfire inside his veins, iron on his tongue.  suguru isn’t thinking, he’s hunting. sniffing like a bloodhound. eyes scanning the area before him like a hungry beast. suguru is hunting — for you.

ARIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII I'M SCARED and a little horny i think but that's beside's the point THE WOLF HAS ARRIVED OH HOW I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOUUUU the way you describe his anger is so fucking amazing i'm awe i read that and i saw red????? i feel what he's feeling

what you see is a knight, a wolf, a beast beneath the moonlight. a kind, kind man.

YOUR KIND, KIND MAN. AND FUCK THIS IS WHERE HE SAYS THEIR NAME???????????????????? FUCKK FUCK FUCK FUCK AND HE'S KISSING THEIR KNUCKLES BROOOOO I HAVE TEARS IN MY EYES AGAINNNNN THIS IS LIKE THE THIRD TIME WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME

and ah, you think; there it is. guilt. always, always clinging to him, a ghost haunting him wherever he goes. it’s been there since the beginning, in the scar reaching for his shoulder, the nature of his never-fading smile. guilt, guilt, guilt. you wonder if he's ever gone without it. you wonder if knights begin to crumble when they stop feeling ashamed. 

STOP STOP PAUSE PAUSE PAUSE PAUSE EVERYTHING I NEED THE TIME TO STOP I'M SORRRY???? "IF KNIGHTS BEGIN TO CRUMBLE WHEN THEY STOP FEELING ASHAMED." I'MMM SORRYYYY????????????????????????? LOOK ARI MY BELOVED MY SWEET LITTLE ANGEL I DON'T THINK I EVEN HAVE THE VOCABULARY FOR WHAT I WANNA SAY ABOUT THIS I DON'T THINK I COULD EVEN DO IT IN MY NATIVE LANGUAGE I DON'T THINK EVEN YELLING COULD DO THE DAMN THING

"IF KNIGHTS BEGIN TO CRUMBLE WHEN THEY STOP FEELING ASHAMED" HUHH

i will give you the sun so you could always bask in its warmth i will give you the moon so you could always lie in its light i will give you the stars so you could always play connect the dots the planets will be yours so you may always count the rings when you're bored i will give you the world so you may always feel loved you are changing lives with your writing you know. i mean that. i know that for a fact as for i am here right now. i love you.

”suguru —” you sigh, almost a hiss. ”i hit my head. once. that’s all.” you wipe away the wetness of your cheeks, biting back a sniffle. ”… you’re acting like i’m fucking dying. cut it out.” (for once, he’s relieved to hear that sharp edge of your voice. it means you’re feeling better.)

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭joking through pain hey i know that one

”i’m serious.” you’re pulling away, suddenly, clasping onto his cheeks with your tearstained palms. squishing his face together. ”it wasn’t your fault. it was mine.” he shakes his head, eager to protest, so you squish his cheeks with more force, and shake his head for him. like a misbehaving dog. ”nope. if you even think about apologizing, i’ll start crying again.” he lets out a huff. frowning, sadly, a downcast pair of eyes. ”don’t pout. i’ll bite you.” it’s slight, barely even there at all — but you think the corner of his mouth twitches upwards, just by a hair, exhaling through his nose with just the slightest hint of amusement.

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I'M SORRY THAT I'M JUST PLUCKING LIKE CHUNKS OUT OF THE THING BUT I JUST HAVE TO OKAY THIS IS IMPORTANT TO ME THIS PART ESPECIALLY FUUUCKKKKKK I'M CRYINGGG THIS IS SO SILLYY BUT I LOVE THEM SOOOO MUCH I LOVE THE READER I LOVE SUGU I LOVE THEM TOGETHER THEM SQUISHING HIS CHEEKS AND THREATENING TO BITE IS SO SERIOUS TO ME FUUUUUUCKKK SHOUDL I DO A FUCKING FUCK COUNT WAAAAHHH I SHOULD DO A TEAR COUNT INSTEAD BROO I'M SO DEHYDRATED NOW LOOK AT THIS LOSER CRYING OVER A FANFICCC MY SPOUSE IS JUST THE BEST ONE OUT THERE I CAN'T HOLD IT BACKKK

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAITTTTTT HE HAD A DREAMMM ARIII HE HAD A FUCKING DREAM SABSAKJSAGSKJASGAHLSHAHSKU

TICK-TOCK TICK-TOCK

A FOX WITH A CHEEEEKY SMILEEE AAAAAAA IT'S GETTING WORSE AND WORSE AND MY WORSE I MEAN AMAZING MY HEART IS SO FULL OF HONEY GOO AND I'M ABOUT TO EXPLODE

swallowing any embarrassment your tired mind can still feel. because your knight is right in front of you, eyes still red from crying, and you want him to be happy. “i think you’re my favorite person.”

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭THIS IS NOT OKAYYYY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I CAN'T BREATHE I HOPE YOU CAN FEEL MY MELTDOWN TO WHEREEVER YOU ARE MY LOVE AAAA HIS EYES ARE RED FROM CRYING AND YOU WANT HIM TO BE HAPPYYY GODDDDDDDD

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

HE'S BLUSHING AND HE'S FLUSTERED AND HE CAN'T EVEN SPEAK "MY BLUSHY KNIGHT" NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I NEED A HEART TRANSPLANT JASGJBWAHGDJADJAWG WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNNN MY BLUSHY KNIGHTTT I JUST--- HE'S SO FUCKING CUTE

”you’re hallucinating,” he scoffs, shoving your head into the fluffy pillows all around you. ever so gently, listening to your muffled giggles. trying to stifle his own joy. ”go back to sleep.”

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭here comes the crying emoji hysteria this is what you do to me HE'S SO BOYFRIEND I CAN'TTTTTTT

ARMOR AND SUNFLOWER MENTION I AM HERE I AM HERE

STOPPPPPPPPPP HE MADE A DRAWING TOOOO I- JUS- FUCK. CAN'T THINK ANYMORE HE MADE A DRAWING TOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HDAHWDKJ

NO NO LOOK YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND HE MADE. A DRAWING TOO. A KNIGHT. MADE A SKETCH WITH HIS HANDS. WITH COAL. OF A FOX. THAT HE SAW IT IN HIS DREAMS. OF A BRATTY LITTLE LORD. THAT HE SAW IN HIS DREAMS. AND IS NOW SITTING UNDER THE STARS WITH HIM. NOOOOO I CAN'T SEE ANYMORE AGAIN MY EYES ARE WATERY THIS IS NOT FINE BY ANY MEANS BTW ARI YOU WILL BE PUNISHED WITH KISSES AND HUGS AND PATS ON THE HEAD AAAUGHGHHG

”… i’ve been thinking.” ”uh oh.”

hasgahsaghshgahshahsahh my favourite thing to say i'm telling u we're holding hands with the reader

”you’ve become precious to me,” he admits. ”i can't remember what it felt like to not be yours.” his tongue curls around a familiar set of syllables, and your name seeps from his lips like a prayer, a vow, a trickle of honey and wine. devotion sticks to his tongue, to the vowels, a heavy fondness — something devout. something you've only ever heard from the mouths of priests.

just when i think that i can catch a break

"i can't remember what it felt like to not be yours." FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

i need you to NEVER shut up ari. never. ever. never stop writing never stop thinking never stop talking yapping rambling just never stop doing what you're doing okay. this is a threat.

fingers intertwining with your own. a perfect puzzle piece, a functional clockwork.

TICK-TOCK BABYYYYYYY i love repeating motifs but actually i don't know why i'm saying this i think you know that already smh maybe i just like repeating things over all don't mind me

EEEEEEEEEEEEEE HE'S BLUSHING AGAINNN GOD I LOVE THIS MASTERPIECE SO FUCKING MUCH I'M PRINTING IT OUT AND PUTTING IT UNDER MY PILLOW SO I CAN DREAM OF IT EVERY NIGHT

”you can sleep, if you’d like,” is whispered against your hair. soft, soothing, his palm on your spine. ”i’ve got you. always.”

SIGHHHHHHHHHH ONE BIG MASSIVE DREAMY SIGH

like how does one read this and not talk about it. the teeth and the biting. the wolf bringing you into the woods himself. the lamb sleeping in the wolf's arms. the smiles. the fond eyes. the hands - the way they refused to take his hand for so long and in the end they couldn't be away from it, glued against him. his hair and the way you describe it. sigh sigh sigh i got nothing but love and admiration for you. i think you were meant to write about him always always always. he lives inside you or maybe you just keep him alive, anyhow it's so good to read your art. we are all truly blessed i talk like i'm religious but the only religion i know is ari so to what you want with that

btwwwww have i told you that you were one of the two people who got me into writing? if i have then i'm just gonna repeat it. i remember reading that one suguru fic - the one where he cooks breakfast for the reader and i just... sat there staring at my phone thinking how is this a fanfic? what do you mean this is fanfiction? this belongs on a bookshelf in a cute little book store. the kind that's always so cozy and homey, the one that always smells sweet? the one where you can sit down by the window and read about love. i spiraled after reading it a little you know. i really did. so in love with the way you describe the surroundings, with the way you describe people and most importantly feelings and emotions. i definitely have said it before but your art makes me feel alive, makes me feel like i am there in the story - feeling everything they're feeling. you are amazing and i hope you know that.

thank you thank you thank you for including us all in your world, thank you for improving it thank you for making it so so much better. i love you very much. FAT MWAH TO YOU MWAH MWAH MWAH i hope you had a wonderful day today, i hope uni isn't being too much of a bitch and i hope you slept well!!!!!!! armin says hello too, he sat with me pretty much the whole time i was reading this he told me he loved it too i kept yapping about to him too smhh i love being annoying anyway this was a lot i hope my words can make your day a bit better or something like that and yeah LOVE U LOVE U LOVE U!!!

the paint doesn't move the way the light reflects ; suguru geto

synopsis; when the king puts you under the supervision of a dashing knight, you promise to make his job as difficult as possible. unfortunately, suguru geto is the patient sort.

word count; 21.1k (this accidentally turned into a novella idk how it happened nobody look at me :’3 this is a love letter to sugu ok…)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, knight!sugu x royalty!reader, royalty au (not accurate to any time period ever), technically a bodyguard au, slowburn, reader is a brat and suguru likes it a little more than he should, reader also has thinly veiled daddy issues, protective sugu :3, he goes feral in one part (descriptions of violence and bloodshed), reader gets briefly kidnapped lol, very fluffy overall though!!, includes shifting povs & time-skips, also lots and lots of devotion, knight!sugu is real & beautiful & loves you specifically <33

a/n; HAPPY late BDAY SUGU MY BABY THE LOVE OF MY LIFE this fic has been in the works for a WHILE now and means a lot to me much like sugu himself :’3 dedicated to my beloved @kissxcore for infecting me w this concept & also my dear @mossmurdock for bringing knight!sugu into my life, both of u have made the brainrot infinitely worse and i will never be free (and ofc @softgirlgonehaywire & @dollsuguru & @jtkys for being the sweetest always) I LOVE U ALL!!!!!!!!

like most things, it begins and ends with a dream.

images form in the depths of your subconscious, wild and vivid, splattering on the canvas of your mind. a dream of cold metal, dark thickets, iron-scented skin — and a knight. 

(or… a wolf?)

before you is a small clearing. trees sprout from the rugged grounds, blooming proudly, clogging up the wool-coated sky. all around you lie empty, discarded suits of armor, dirty with rust and something that smells of death. wilted sunflowers stumble under their own weight, and dragonflies buzz in a frenzy, manic, driven to hysteria. in the distance you think you hear the shrieking of ravens.

and there’s a knight, just ahead, tall and imposing, covered in steel from head to toe. holding a blinding sword, facing the sky, doing nothing to stop the pitter patter of raindrops ricocheting off his burganet. you stand by the entrance of the woods, and watch him in silence. 

he looks a little lonely. 

and in comes the wolf. gracious, growling, big and bad, snarling and showing off the white of its fangs. dragging its claws against the ground, unruly fur ruffled by the harsh breeze; widening its maw, a silent fury on its tongue. from this angle, it looks a little like a grin.

the wolf begins to chase the knight. or maybe it’s the knight chasing the wolf — you can’t really tell. they run in circles around each other, like the sun and the moon, an orbit of violence, matching their steps. almost in harmony — almost, but not quite, because suddenly they’re closing in on you, great and ugly, beasts wearing different hides, and —

and that’s when you wake up.

”your highness!” 

a groan pushes past your lips, groggy with fatigue, and your eyelids flicker open like the drawing of a flimsy curtain. a series of mismatched little blinks, until your vision clears. 

above you waits a familiar face; impatient. one of the maids, your foggy brain tells you. and she isn’t pleased.

but all you do is drag your limbs up to cover your pillow-creased face, sluggishly, muttering beneath your breath. ”a wolf…”

silence. 

the maid tilts her head, with a furrow of her brows. 

”… excuse me?”

”there was a wolf,” you echo, a dreamy exhale muffled against the skin of your palm. stifling a yawn. ”and a guy… he was cool.” 

she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. settling back into her usual rhythm. mildy berating. ”did you have another one of your dreams?” she asks, a little irritated, and for a second you think you hear a tick-tock ticking down. ”at any rate — you need to get up. the king and queen demand your presence.”

ah. of course.

a huff, displeased, even as you force yourself into a sitting position. stretching your limbs like a grumpy feline. ”demands…” you murmur, a click of your tongue. ”they think they can just wake me up whenever they want? at the crack of dawn?”

”it’s 11 a.m, your highness.”

”early as hell,” you rasp, willfully tuning out her murmur of mind your language. letting your legs hang off the bed. ”what do they want, anyway?”

following your silent cue, she hums, walking towards the edge of the room. picking up your discarded blouse, and bringing it to you. ”i was told it was of utmost importance,” is all she says, lifting the fabric as if getting ready to dress you.

”i can do that myself,” you hiss, snatching the white silk from her outstretched hands. as always, she does nothing but sigh, sigh, sigh. it’s all they ever do. ”i’m not a toddler.”

from your position, still cozied up in bed, on messy sheets and fluffy pillows — you can see the view beyond your translucent window’s glass. a sky so gray it’s almost comforting, dark clouds forming in the distance, silently ruminating. when the maid pushes it open, and a cold breeze slips through the gap, you can smell the rain; heavy, earthy, daffodils and oak wood. in the distance, sunflower fields seek shelter from the downpour. 

but your eyes remain glued to the woods. far ahead, but still close enough to see — the woods you long for. the ones you’ll never get to see up close. 

a bitter taste blooms on your tongue. 

(spitefully, your teeth sink into the tender flesh of your bottom lip.)

”fine,” comes a heavy sigh, ruefully resigned. forcing yourself into compliancy. before you can change your mind, you hop off the mattress, running your fingers through tousled strands of hair. ”i’ll go see them.”

and she brightens, visibly, disapproving frown smoothed away with the breeze. for now. ”thank you. they are worried, i’ll have you know.”

a scoff, as you cross the threshold of your private quarters. humorous. ”i bet they are.” 

”your highness,” she calls, following close behind. her tone is reprimanding, now; you will yourself not to shrink. ”we almost lost you.”

”i almost got kidnapped,” you huff. ”not the same thing.”

again, that exasperated sigh. it’s a wonder her lungs haven’t run out of air. ”do you have any idea who that man was?” 

the question makes your mind still. shifting gears, a clockwork coming to life, repeating it inside your head — do you have any idea who that man was? 

”… he was hot.”

sigh. you hear it before it comes, and raise your lips on instinct. 

”no, i mean it!” you ensure her, throwing a fleeting glance behind you. ”he just had that rugged look about him, you know? the scar and everything…” a blissful little exhale, as you gush over your would-be killer. ”what a waste. if only he had gotten away.”

”with you in tow?” the maid quips, raising a brow. her words are steeped in irony.

”of course!” another disapproving glance. ”i mean, did you see those biceps —”

”behave.”

with a flutter of your puffy sleeves, you turn around to face her. and ah — there it is. the hardness of her jaw, those frosty pupils, the impending signs of her dwindling patience. you can see it, hear it, that eerie tick-tock signaling the breaching of her limit. all humans have one; a clockwork heart, of sorts, ticking down to the moment they run out of leftover kindness to give unruly heirs. 

over the years, you’ve gotten expertly good at making the clock tick quicken. a skill you’re very proud of.

”and what if i don’t?” you bite back, just barely restraining your growing grin. delighted at the attention. ”he had nice biceps! what, am i not allowed to tell the truth?”

and the tick-tock quickens. she stills, just behind you, hands on her hips. frustration bubbling beneath her sharp syllables. ”my god, you are impossible today!”

for a moment, you stop to look at her. weighing your options. should you reel it back in, try and appease her? or keep pushing? the answer, as always, is push. it’s all you’ll ever do.

so you turn on your heel, and take a step forward, a spiteful grin curved into your lips. ”deal with it, or leave.” a beat. ”i don’t remember asking you to accompany me.”

before you round the corner, your ears pick up on one final harsh sigh. she makes no move to follow you.

(hmph.)

”where is your maid?”

in front of you stands a throne, proud and luxurious, polished marble, two seats right next to each other. the quarters of the royal pair are the same as always, vivid paintings hanging from every wall in sight, wolf pelts thrown over tables and windowsills. the scent of dried lavender seeps through the air, suffocating you. 

and, of course, the king. speaking to you with the same judgemental voice as always; one you’ve grown painfully accustomed to. 

”i wanted her to get me breakfast,” is the lie you decide on, finely tailored in white. just to make sure she doesn’t get into any actual trouble. ”you didn’t exactly give me time to eat any.”

the king sighs, mild disappointment laced into the breath. nothing new. when he says your name, it comes out sounding like a bad joke. ” — you aren’t a child anymore. one day you’ll be ruling this kingdom; forcing the maids to do your bidding won’t win you any favours.” 

”mhm.” absently, you fidget with the sleeves of your blouse. not quite listening. ”so, what did you want? it’s not often i’m allowed here.”

an evil glint shines in your eyes, for a moment. you cast a meaningful glance at the maid by your father’s side — his personal favorite. 

”don’t you have, ah…” you taste the words on your tongue. ”more pressing matters to attend to?”

he doesn’t flinch. as always, he pretends not to know that you know — that everyone knows. 

yet he still gives you that cold, cold look, colder than the howls of wind beyond the castle walls, cold enough to send a shiver down your spine. it makes you want to push, push, push. break the clockwork in half.

but he’s wise enough to follow your lead. “let me get to the point, then,” he cranes his neck, showing off the fox pelt snug around his shoulders. ”the queen and i thought it best to hire a new knight for you.”

you blink. eyelashes fluttering. all you can hear is the pitter patter of rain against the windowpane. 

then you groan.

”another one?” you whine, barely resisting the urge to stomp your feet on the floor. ”please, no. it’s such a pain getting rid of them. you know they won’t last long!”

”we aren’t talking about any ordinary knight,” he tuts, as monotone as ever. ignoring your little temper tantrum. ”after what happened with toji zenin, we aren’t taking any chances.”

you tilt your head. confused, for a moment. ”toji?” the gears of your mind turn, clicking into place; zenin. a family of assassins, a man with a scar on his bottom lip. ”ohhh — the hottie.”

your father pretends not to hear you. 

”it was a close call,” he hums, and you muster the strength not to crack another joke about his biceps. it takes restraint. ”we need someone who can protect you properly. indefinitely, from even the stealthiest of assassins. so…”

your eyes meet his. gazes overlapping, the same colour, one above and one below. he’s always, always towered over you. for as long as you remember. 

that is what royalty means — absolute dominion. 

(it makes you want to curl into a ball.)

”today, you’ll be meeting with the greatest knight.” he says the words with an odd sense of pride, an inner satisfaction. ”he’ll be here any moment. i thought it best for you to get acquainted as soon as possible.”

a moment passes. you’re broken out of your bout of compliance, like a rubber band snapping. a clock tick quickening. ”wait, what?” you gape. ”father —”

”your majesty.” 

…

the correction is stern. gritting your teeth, you force the words from out your throat. ”… your majesty,” there’s a slight grumble to your voice, ”what the hell? now? i haven’t even —”

”you have no choice in this matter,” he cuts you off. coldly, coldly, coldly. ”behave, and there won’t be any complications.”

behave.

behave, behave, behave. it’s all they ever want from you.

(you might as well be a pet.)

the queen is silent, as always. eerily so, not saying a word, like a puppet on a string. she hasn’t looked you in the eye even once so far, not even a passing glance. not like you’d expect her to. her clockwork heart stopped beating for you a long time ago. 

automatons, the both of them. making decisions for you, like there isn’t a sliver of rational thought in your brain. how irritating.

you’re just about to part your lips, when —

”… am i interrupting?”

you still.

a velvety voice. silky, smooth, tailored by the finest seamstress — tucked between the slightest raspy vowel, a hint of something deeper. it sounds like honey, wine, a molten mass of spring clouds. 

the king ahead of you brightens, suddenly, lips curling up into a smile. it looks almost warm; you didn’t know he was capable of making that kind of expression. ”ah, suguru!” he calls out to the source of the noise. ”no, certainly not. forgive me for the short notice.”

when you turn around, you see a knight.

he’s beautiful. gorgeous, even. fair skin, sharp facial features, no scars to be seen. a sword hangs in a scabbard by his hip, and he’s wearing a set of armor, still glistening with the aftermaths of the rain beating down outside. his hair cascades down the metal like a black river, loose and silky, a single strand obscuring his pretty face. and his eyes are a soothing shade of brown; you’re almost certain they’d look warm, if there was any sunlight to engulf them. as it is, in the shadow of a murky spring morning, they’re a dark cedar, almost obsidian. but they look kind. 

and they’re fixed on the king. he’s smiling, too, a dangerous little tilt. disgustingly charming. he hangs his head in a bow, hand on his heart — reverent.

(ah. he’s one of those knights.)

”my king,” the strange knight greets, tongue wrapping around the vowels like a dragon curling around a pile of gold. ”not at all. i’m always grateful for an opportunity to see you.”

(oh god. it’s even worse than you thought.)

”i should say the same of you,” the king echoes, with a warmth that you’re wholly unaccustomed to. your stomach churns, swirling with discomfort. ”our nation’s pride and joy.”

the knight chuckles; muffled by his closed fist. he’s feigning embarrassment, you can tell. ”you flatter me,” he purrs, words flowing smoothly from his lips. too smoothly. ”i’m simply doing my duty as one of your subjects. but, needless to say — i’m honoured to have earned your respect.”

finally, his gaze shifts to you. and you think he must notice how disgusted you are, the reproach you feel for him, that silent contempt. because you aren’t trying to hide it; it’s there, clear as day, in the crease of your brow, your frosty pupils. lips pursed, like they’re aching to bare and to bite.

but he continues to smile. warm, still, like a mellow summer breeze. a well of pizzicato drops.

you feel a little nauseous.

”ah, and you must be the royal heir?” a tilt of his head, knowing. a shimmer of recognition painted in those ashen eyes. ”or should i say…. my liege.” 

he walks towards you, in long strides, slow and steady, only to get down on one knee. ew. ”forgive me; my name is suguru geto. your knight, from this day forth.” his palm unfurls, cedar eyes crinkling with feigned endearment. holding it out towards the subject of his newfound devotion. ”i’m delighted to finally meet you.”

(suguru geto. you’ve heard of him, of course. who hasn’t?)

his hand stills in the air, waiting patiently for yours; to bring it to his glossy lips. but you don’t do anything. nothing, other than studying his smile, picture perfect, tailor-made, sweet enough to melt on your tongue. so sweet you know it must be at least a little bit fake — the smile of a liar. 

it’s a smile you know well.

so you mimic it, a bitter glint in your eyes, only for your hands to retreat to your pockets. and out comes a purr. ”you’re a bad actor.”

silence. the knight doesn’t flinch, not even close, but he blinks, a flutter of his dark eyelashes. like a raven taking flight. that everlasting smile never falters, but for just a second, a clock-tick or two, you swear you catch the slightest hint of something flickering through his keen iris.

interest?

”forgive them, suguru,” the king is quick to chip in, finally stepping down from his throne to join you on the floor. the queen doesn’t move, but she gives suguru a fond smile, and it makes your grimace deepen. ”they woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning. and they’re a bit of a problem child — i’m sure you’ve heard.”

that makes you snicker, silently. maybe just a little bit smug. you’re sure it must be a headache for him to deal with.

”i can’t say i haven’t,” suguru chuckles, raising himself up from the marble floor. your smile falls. ”but it’s not an issue. i understand.”

he looks at you, really looks at you, and you give him an unimpressed stare. wholly disinterested. trying not to squirm under his scrutiny. 

”i’m sure it must feel suffocating — being under this kind of supervision.” he gives you a tilt of his head, strands of charcoal following the movement. smooth, like a waltz, one you didn’t agree to. ”isn’t it?”

ah. the sympathy card.

before you can answer, he bows; hand on his heart. knights and their rituals. ”i’m at your service, my liege. if i make you uncomfortable, at any point, just tell me.” once more, he meets your gaze, a sincerity in his own — reserved just for you. ”really.”

… ugh.

to your right comes a pleased voice, deep and satisfied, as self-affirming as ever. ”i knew i could entrust them to you,” the king speaks, placing a palm on your shoulder. you try not to flinch. ”aren’t you grateful? this handsome, kind man is all yours.”

a sharp scoff is all you can muster, nails digging into the skin of your palm. but suguru only chuckles, good-natured.

they continue to speak, about this and that. you tune out most of it, caught up in preparing for the long headache ahead. sure, you’re an expert at getting knights to quit, but it takes time. weeks, sometimes, just to make them finally crack, push and push until their patience reaches its limit. and suguru seems resilient. more than anything, he seems thoroughly loyal to the king; that really doesn’t bode well for you.

but before you can formulate a step-by-step guide to making his job a living hell, the sound of your name snaps you out of your trance.

it’s the king, of course, as always. you hate that you still instinctively respond to his call. like an obedient puppy. ”show suguru to your quarters. he’ll be accompanying you indefinitely, from now on. don't give him any trouble.” his voice finally sounds cold again; a warning. ”i’ll hear about it.”

(indefinitely.)

a moment passes. then you sigh, deep and heavy, haphazardly hiding a roll of your eyes. ”yeah, yeah, yeah,” you cross your arms. ”i got it.”

suguru meets your furrowed brows with something gentle, a soothing little smile. offering his arm, for you to hold on to. knights and their rituals. ”shall we?”

but you brush past him. stubborn in your independence, in your desire to make this as discomforting for him as it is for you. ”follow me,” is all you say, a dissatisfied huff. loud enough to pick up on.

to your great displeasure, he matches your hurried pace. side by side, as you walk down the halls, the clicking of his shoes echoing against the marble. a shadow you can’t shine away; one that’ll stay with you indefinitely. you feel his gaze burn into you.

”my lord.”

”don’t talk to me,” you sigh, sharp like the sword by his hip. a low click of your tongue. ”just so you know, i didn’t agree to this.”

”that was my question, actually,” he grins, ever so slightly. fingertips tapping against his scabbard. ”i am sorry, you know. i meant what i said — i’m sure it’s difficult for you.” he casts you another one of those meaningful glances, a meaning you have no intention of discerning. ”but i have my orders.”

you bite back a laugh. ”you guys love those, huh?” when you turn your head to face him, still walking forward, he’s met with a taunting smirk. ”your little orders.”

but his smile doesn’t falter. damn.

”not a fan of knights?” he asks, instead, a playful lilt to his syrupy voice. coaxing, accommodating. infuriating.

”nope.” your footsteps quicken — but he keeps up, effortlessly. curse those abnormally long legs. ”you’re all just bootlickers. especially you.”

”oh?”

”don’t oh? me,” you snap, practically growling, ”like you weren’t seconds away from making out with the king back there. it’s all so fake.” the comment makes the corners of his lip quirk up, but you don’t turn around to see it. ”now that you’re alone with me, you’re already acting way less uptight, see?”

he hums. ”i figured it’d make you feel more at ease.”

”god, will you just cut it out?” a hiss breaks out of your throat, sharp and exasperated. tired, drained. you just want to go back to sleep. ”quit acting like you care about what i think. you’ll do whatever the king asks of you — that’s all you really care about.”

suguru stays silent, this time. matching your steps, observing you silently, out of the corner of his eye. the frown on your lips, the crease between your brows. etching them into his memory. you’re pissed, that much he can tell. and you definitely, definitely don’t like him. 

(”you’re a bad actor.”)

the knight comes to a standstill. parting his lips, enough for his voice to flow through, silken sheets and molten honey. a raspy tilt he tries his best to hide.

but his words carry a sincerity he could never fake. 

”from now on, i serve you.”

when the clicking of his shoes against cold marble flooring fades away, you halt. turning around, hesitantly, quirking a questioning brow. rain beats on beyond the window to your left, flicking against the glass, droplets clinging to the translucent surface. marigold petals kiss the windows in a flurry of cream and orange, fluttering about with the harsh bites of the wind, carried from the castle’s orchard. the endless hallway you find yourselves in smells of rainwater and spring.

suguru looks steadfast, where he’s standing, immovable. a little like a pillar of salt. when he speaks it sounds like he’s reciting a scripture.

”i’m loyal to the king. i have to follow his orders.” 

there’s something about his words that you can’t quite pinpoint. is it guilt or pride? ”but i am at your service. certain things are set in stone, but not others. i’ll let you decide how this goes.”

the hallway goes silent. he smiles, again, smaller this time. somehow more genuine.

”from now on, i’m your knight.” the pitter patter of rain mashes with the steady beating of a clock; rhythmic, soothing, a lullaby of rust and time. ”that’s all. i won’t be anything else.”

you stare. lips pursed, awaiting a clarification, but it doesn’t come. he’s giving you time to respond.

(he’s your knight, now. indefinitely yours.)

an inhale. the clock hands of your heart begin to move. ”in that case,” you exhale, lips curling up into a taunting smile. pleased with yourself. ”i promise to be the most insufferable lord a knight has ever had. i won’t make your job easy for you.”

and suguru only chuckles. raspy, like the bark of a tree, claw marks on the ground. ”good,” he grins, eyes rich with mirth, golden pears hanging off the branches. ”i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

he looks sincere. sounds sincere. all you do is blink, a sense of frustration nibbling at your heart, but the knight before you doesn’t falter. he only offers his arm to you, once more; a silent step towards reconciliation.

you watch him, silently. 

then you’re turning on your heel, swiftly, a low grumble at the base of your throat. ignoring him and his offer, walking towards your room with irritated steps that fade as you turn the corner.

behind you, suguru’s smile only grows.

”good morning, your highness.”

blinking sleepily, still regaining your ability to form coherent thoughts, all you can do is stare. studying the figure above you, towering over your half-asleep form, the deadpan expression on your face.

black hair, and amber eyes. a disgustingly charming smile. 

the gears of your mind finally click into place.

a whine flows from your lips, meek and disapproving, and you roll over to your side. pulling the covers over your head, as if to protect you from the existence of your newly hired knight. so it wasn’t just a bad dream.

but he doesn’t fade away, like an apparition. he stays right by your bed, crouching down next to it. you feel the weight of the mattress shift when he rests his elbow on the cushion. ”still too early?” he asks, soft enough not to grate your sensitive ears. ”i was told you usually get up around this time…”

a muffled groan. ”leave.”

”i’m afraid i can’t,” he hums, but you don’t sense much remorse. ”i’m not supposed to let you out of my sight for more than brief intervals at a time… that’s one thing i can’t compromise on.”

”i don’t care,” you whine, petulant. tightening your grip on the blanket surrounding you, desperate to savour the leftovers of your fuzzy dreams. ”’m not getting up…”

a click of his tongue. quiet, contemplative. until he decides on a course of action.

”would you like me to bring you breakfast, then?”

…

slowly, your eyes flicker open, consciousness beginning to stir. the tasty temptation rouses you from your half-slumber, ever so slightly; because he sounds sincere. he sounds like he really will bring you breakfast, if you just give him the order. 

it’s tempting. dangerously so. 

(how long has it been since one of the maids actually bothered to serve you breakfast?)

”… whatever,” you croak, finally. weighing the value of your own response — putting effort into not sounding too excited. (but you are.) ”sure. do what you want, just let me sleep.”

a relieved little breath slips from suguru’s lips, as he watches the lump under the blanket stir. ”alright,” he breathes. ”what would you like, my lord?”

(suddenly, you get an idea.)

a smug grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief on your mind. ”figure it out yourself,” you chirp, awfully pleased with yourself. 

silence. 

then, you hear him hum — rising to his feet with a quiet groan. ”understood,” he quips. ”i’ll be back as soon as possible, your highness.”

when you hear the creaking of the door, as he steps over the threshold, you barely restrain the urge to kick your legs in victory. now he’s sure to get you the wrong breakfast; and then you can be as difficult as you please, demanding something else, over and over. an ungrateful, spoiled little brat. that’ll definitely make him quit. 

— sadly, it seems you were underestimating him. just a tiny, tiny bit.

before you, on a silver tray, lays a wide variety of breakfast foods. everything from syrupy pancakes and buttery croissants to neatly cut sandwiches and porridge, slices of fruit and fresh lemonade, coffee with cream and sugar, tiny jars of marmalade and jam. sparkling, glittering, begging to be devoured. handmade, you can tell, meticulously crafted by someone who knows what they’re doing. with a gulp, you attempt not to openly salivate — you had no clue the kitchen workers were this talented. 

for just a moment, you’re entirely speechless. he really went ahead and got you some of everything.

stumbling for the right words, any words, the only thing that escapes your throat is a meek huff. meant to sound displeased, but coming out just a little awestruck. ”this is… way, way too much. are you insane?”

he only shrugs. a sweet smile on his lips, sharp jaw resting on the heel of his palm. ”well, you wouldn’t give me any specifics,” he reminds you, a bit too smug for your liking. ”just eat what you like. i’ll keep your preferences in mind.”

you want to protest, want to put up a fight. want to resist his charms, his little peace offering.

but your stomach growls, suddenly. loud enough that you’re sure he hears it, but you don’t turn around to see any silent laughter — just picking up the fork, embarrassed, eager to just get rid of the ache in your gut. eager to get a taste of the delicacies in front of you. with hesitance, you cut into one of the fluffy pancakes, slathered with syrup, trying to ignore his expectant gaze. biting into it with your eyes closed.

when the sweet taste curls around your tongue, you physically feel yourself perk up. letting your eyes flutter open, your eyebrows raised, a sweetness that makes you sit up straighter. it practically melts in your mouth, honeyed and buttery, and it takes all your willpower to withhold a blissed out little sigh. 

it must be evident, on your features. because suguru sounds amused when he asks; ”good?”

”... better than usual, i guess.”

despite your half-assed attempt at hiding how pleased you are, his ever-present smile extends. ”oh, really?” he leans back in his chair, right next to the bed. exhaling in relief. ”i’m glad. i was worried my cooking wouldn’t be to your tastes.”

…

you pale.

silently, both awestruck and horrified, you look up to meet his teasing gaze. ”wait. you…” a pause. silent, palpable, dreading his answer. ”… made this?” 

”yes.”

another pause. 

”… like. all of it?”

”mhm.”

your gaze falls down to seek solace in your lap. avoiding his own, biting down on your lip, not quite enough to sting. fuck — you accidentally complimented his handmade breakfast. not off to a great start.

wallowing in your silent loss, you simply dig in; desperate to savour it, despite the lingering taste of failure on your tongue. once you’ve sipped the last of your coffee, foamy and rich, the knight to your right speaks up.

”so, your highness,” he begins. tactful, careful. clearing his throat. ”now that you’ve woken up a bit… and, forgive me if i’m overstepping, but —” he searches for your guarded gaze, playing with the beginnings of a smile. ”i was thinking it’d be good for us to get to know each other better.”

”ugh.”

a chuckle — seriously, does nothing offend this man? — flits past his lips. ”oh, don’t be like that, your highness. don’t you think it —”

”cut it out.” you shoot him a glare, voice set to a shivering tilt. ”stop acting like some perfect servant. it’s so obvious you’re playing it up.” a tiny huff, as you pop an apple slice into your mouth. ”makes me sick.”

”… right. you called my acting bad, before.”

”it is,” you nod, a mocking imitation on your tongue. eyes fluttering shut as you bring a hand to your chest. ”oooh, look at me, i’m so humble and loyal! why, of course i don’t mind being summoned with no prior notice! would you like me to lick your shoes, my sweet king?”

and, honestly, you expect him to get at least a little bit angry. the last guy certainly was.

but suguru laughs, suddenly, from the bottom of his gut — a genuine sound. sunshine spilling from his lips, amusement laced together with the octaves. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, like the leaves of a golden ginkgo tree. ”okay, okay,” he puts his hands up, as if readying for a smooth surrender. still amused. ”i’ll try to be more… unguarded, then. would that satisfy you?”

you give him a look. 

he returns it with a smile. ”i’ll take that as a yes,” is all he croons, reaching a hand out. it hangs still in the air, waiting patiently for a response. a familiar sight.

you blink. looking at it, silently, as if trying to solve a puzzle in the pattern of his fingertips. 

then you sigh. ”for the last time, i’m not letting you kiss my hand, you —”

”a handshake,” he cuts you off. soft, a tilt of his head; awfully charming. reassuring you. ”no kissing involved.”

a handshake.

(come to think of it, you don’t think anyone’s ever tried to shake your hand before. it’s something you see other people do; maids, knights, butlers. people on equal ground with each other.)

after a moment of silence, you avert your gaze. there’s a slight, slight flush to your cheeks, one you hope stays hidden from his keen eyes. you grumble, intent on not appeasing him. ”… i’m not shaking your hand, either.”

suguru quirks a brow, smile yet to fall, waiting a few moments more until he gives in. ”you are difficult,” he chuckles, and it sounds almost pleased. ”kento was right.”

kento? now, why does that sound familiar…? 

”— but that’s okay. i look forward to getting to know you better, either way.” his hand retreats to his lap, pliant. ”eventually.”

”that’s not happening.”

”oh?” you swear that smile of his grows, just a little. a man who enjoys a good challenge. humming, closing his eyes for a brief second, switching tactics as if shifting gears. ”then, tell me — is there anything you’d like to know about me?”

hell no, is what you want to say. and you almost, almost do. eager to move one step ahead of him, stubborn in your desire to scare him off.

but then you remember the tale.

so you still, ever so slightly, and suguru leans forward. by a hair, noticing your expression, maybe, the curiosity simmering in your veins. seeping out, little by little, and even though you know you shouldn’t — you just can’t resist the temptation to ask…

”… is it true?”

he tilts his head.

”the … you know.” you move your hands, a bit, as if hoping they’ll say the words for you. they don’t. ”your sword. did you really…” a pause, as your eager gaze trails down to his hip, the scabbard attached to his belt. and then a gulp. 

”… pull it out of a stone?”

a series of silent blinks. then suguru chuckles — dripping with fresh amusement, a glimmer of teeth behind his lips. ”oh, so you’ve heard?”

and, like a pair of shooting stars, your eyes flicker over to meet his. almost gleaming with newfound excitement, a little erratic. ”is — is it true?”

”it’s an old folktale,” he’s quick to intercept. ”gets said about basically every great knight… or, what the public deems as good, anyhow.”

(ah. the humble facade slipped away.)

in a matter of seconds, you seem to deflate, slumping back until your spine meets the headboard. sulking silently. ”so you didn't pull your sword out of a rock?” you huff, mood souring again, a lemony flavour in your veins. ”lame.”

”stone,” he corrects, unperturbed. ”and i'm afraid not.” he gives you another one of his placating smiles, barely concealed amusement swimming in his amber eyes. ”i pulled mine from an oak tree.”

…

”wait, really?”

the gleam in your eyes is back. suguru almost, almost feels bad.

”depends,” he quips, shooting you a lazy grin. ”how gullible are you, my lord?”

(... oh. he was teasing you.)

an embarrassed heat crawls up your neck, rooting itself into the column of your throat, and all you can do to distract him from it is to scoff. sharply, as if hoping just the sound will be enough to cut into his smooth skin. ”whatever.”

suguru continues to smile, crows’ feet by his eyes, something deliberate in his silent stare. so you stumble for something, anything to say.

”also, can you quit the my lord stuff?” you settle on, taking a shallow sip of the lemonade. sour and sweet, nice and chilled on your tongue. ”it’s creepy.”

he blinks. a flutter of his dark lashes, fingers tapping at his bended knee. he looks contemplative, for a moment. ”does it make you uncomfortable?” he asks, tilting his head. ”i can stick to my liege, if that’s better. just say the word.” 

”god, you’re so annoying,” you groan, licking the lemony residue off your lips. ”just use my name.”

suddenly, suguru stills. fingertips frozen, for a moment, no longer tapping at his thigh. he traps his bottom lip between his teeth, a hesitant hum crawling up the confines of his throat. 

”that….” he trails off, thumb absentmindedly smoothing over the leather of his scabbard. ”seems a little much.”

when you turn to look at him, he seems a little put off. uncomfortable, maybe — or just caught off guard? it’s hard to get a read on him. for someone who smiles so often, his emotions don’t appear very bright.

a pang of something grasps onto your clockwork heart, and a frown pulls at your bottom lip. frustration gnawing at your veins. ”you’re here to service me, aren’t you?” you ask, with a shallow huff. ”just do as i say.”

”well, i still have my boundaries.” suguru leans back, crossing his legs, gazing at you with slightly lidded eyes. ”and, on paper — i’m only here to protect you. the servicing is my own choice.” 

a very, very judgemental look. he returns it with a tug of his lips. 

”… you really do like being ordered around, don’t you?”

suguru shrugs. playful. ”makes me feel needed,” he purrs, watching you wolf down the breakfast he made.

once you’ve had your fill, he’s quick to gather the silver tray in his steady arms, and you do your very best to hold back from thanking him for the meal. it aches a little, but you can’t give in — you don’t have a choice. you can’t allow yourself to be anything other than the most ungrateful, annoying royal in the kingdom.

anything to snap his clockwork heart in half.

— a week passes with no particular developments. you try your damndest to bother him, but suguru is stubborn. stubborn enough that you’re starting to doubt he’ll ever leave you alone, no matter how much you ignore him, or hiss at him, or whine at him to make you an annoyingly specific assortment of breakfast foods.

he never stops smiling, no matter how bothersome you’re being. the tick-tock of his patience remains unbroken. 

(so for now, you figure you’ll just have to adjust.)

a sense of contentment simmers in the open air, when suguru knocks at your door, waiting for a groan and a grouchy come in. it takes you a few moments longer to respond than what he’s used to, and he notes that you sound a little less irritated when you do.

as he steps over the threshold, bowing his head instinctevely, he’s met with the sight of you fully immersed. holding a paintbrush between your fingers, lifting it, movements delicate, self-assured. like it comes to you without thinking. you’re seated right by the window, enough for the would-be daylight to flicker in. as it stands, the weather is still sour. 

he walks up to you, as always, never more than a few steps away.

and, for a moment, all he does is watch you. silently, as you dip your brush in smeary cobalt paint, a splatter of colour on the white canvas. melting together with the indigo and obsidian. there’s a certain rhythm to it, a kind of dance between you and your mind and the painting in front of you — not even close to being finished. a dip of your brush blooms into a jaw, a flick of your wrist into a set of fangs. cobalt cream and silvery edges, an imitation of what you saw in your sleep. murky, blurry, a dream-like clearing in the woods. 

as you work, a sense of relaxation smooths along your sinuses. coaxing you into breathing out, into letting your clenched jaw rest for a while. turning all your irritation into brushstrokes. into a hungry, hungry wolf. 

finally, your knight opts to break the silence.

”you’re quite talented.” 

it’s an earnest comment. filled with respect, not the idle flattery you’re so used to. and despite yourself, you can’t help but grin — glowing a little beneath the praise. prideful, smug, almost giddy. he watches intently as your expression shifts, as those fleeting flickers of joy dance along the contours of your cheekbones. as you lap up his praise like the chamomile tea he served you this morning.

suguru smiles. you have a cute side, he thinks. for no more than a mere moment, he finally feels as if he’s getting somewhere; getting closer to breaking that thorny, thorny shell of yours. closer to meeting the little lamb beneath the wolf’s hide.

but your mind quickly catches up to your body, realizing that your lips are curled up into a pleased smile, and you clench your jaw again. mindful not to let him see it. painting makes you far too careless, too unguarded; you have to be mean.

stuck in a bout of frustration, you put a little too much force into the motion of your fingers, a small slip of the hand. but that’s all it takes. suddenly, the smooth, calm sea of fur on the canvas turns violent, a little more unruly, and you withhold a wince. doing your best to mend the damage. flick, flick, across the canvas, as if to appease the hungry wolf. 

from behind you, a tiny exhale. laced with a kind of stifled amusement, one that makes you snap your jaw in his direction. brows knitted in anger.

”what?”

suguru clears his throat. ”nothing, my liege,” he hides a smile behind his knuckle. eyes gliding across the murky smear of fangs and fur, interest piqued. ”i’m just curious… why a wolf?”

a huff. briefly, you consider ignoring him, but….

(something in his tone convinces you not to.)

”… i saw one,” you admit, absently, staring at the blue and gray of the canvas. flick, flick. violet, navy, a little more depth. ”in my dream.”

silence. your knight doesn’t respond. surely, he must think you childish; everyone else does. why would he be the exception? why did you tell him anything at all? 

a sense of regret mixes with the paint. the weight of a brush in your hand truly does make you careless, doesn’t it?

”… huh.”

a clenching of teeth. you muster the will to turn your head, just to give him a questioning look, a silent aggression. biting before he can. but he’s not looking at you; he’s looking at the painting, the wolf that isn’t quite a wolf yet, just blue and gray on paper. a blur of messy motions.

then he shakes his head. ”no, nothing.” 

you quirk a brow. 

but you don’t say anything. falling silent, falling back into the rhythm of it all, painting until you grow bored of it. the wolf looks at you both, still thoroughly unfinished, jaw half-painted, no trees or knights to keep it company. solitary, blurry; baring its fangs towards no one at all. a sorry spectacle of teeth.

— a couple days later, as you’re walking through the castle with suguru in tow, still adamantly refusing to curl your fingers around his bicep, a loud crash breaks you out of your hushed banter.

the two of you share a look. it came from farther away, just beyond the next turn, a certain hallway decorated with delicate vases. one the castle maids desperately tried to keep you from, when you were younger, worried about your habit of jumping around while pretending to be some sort of feral animal. worried, of course, about the safety of the porcelain rather than the safety of the child.

it doesn’t take a genius to figure out the source of the sound. and, lo and behold, what waits beyond the turn ahead is a crying boy and a broken vase.

fat tears cascade down his reddened cheeks, silent fear knit into the way his face is scrunched up. he can’t be older than six or seven; one of the maid’s children, you assume, the kind that doesn’t have the luxury of making mistakes. he looks panicked, down on his knees, holding a large piece of porcelain, painted flowers etched into the front.

what a mess.

when the clicking of your shoes reaches his little ears, he looks up at you with wide, shameful eyes. still sitting amongst the littered shards, the spilt water and irises soon to wilt. it reminds you of something, a memory you don’t quite want to recall; a different child, tiny and alone. taught to feel shame at the moment of their birth. 

it makes your pace falter, a bit, but suguru moves without hesitation. long, careful strides, one foot after the other. 

he crouches down in front of the boy, gentle as he takes the shattered piece of porcelain from his tiny palm. so he doesn’t hurt himself. ”hey, hey, it’s okay,” he soothes, speaking even softer than usual, his voice like a flurry of feathers and jasmine petals. ”are you hurt?”

he’s patient. smiling comfortingly, considerate, grounding, a blanket of wool like the one forming on the border of the horizon. but the child continues to sniffle and hiccup, curling into a ball as if readying for a strike. like an abandoned puppy.

you sigh.

after a moment’s hesitation, you’re stepping forward, figure slipping from the shadows and coming into view. joining the miserable pair, the jagged shards on the marble floor. 

there’s a cold, cold look in your eyes when the boy raises his head to meet them.

a flick of your wrist; you wave your hand once, then twice. ”shoo. hurry up.” 

he blinks. tears clumping his lashes together, cheeks flushed from the panic of it all. he stammers when he parts his lips. ”b… but —”

”didn’t you hear me?” comes a scoff, harsh, cutting through the air. right through the fear and panic. ”that was an order. just run back to your mommy already.” you cross your arms, shaking your head in disapproval. mimicking the king, though you think it’s lost on your spectators. ”all that crying is making my head hurt, geez.”

a series of hesitant blinks. crumbling beneath your commanding gaze, the child stumbles to his feet, sparing suguru one last unsure little glance before scurrying off. the sigh that slips from your lips is quiet, barely audible, tinged with relief. 

when you look down to the floor, you find that suguru is already looking at you; a furrow to his brows. angry, for once. just a tiny, tiny flicker of distaste. you reward him with a cold smile. 

(so this is how you get under this skin. cruelty, aimed not towards him, but towards the defenseless. 

what a picture-perfect, self-destructive little knight.)

just as the child turns the corner ahead, you hear the echo of a maid calling out from behind you. her voice is dripping with fatigue, exasperation, a flurry of sighs you’ve grown far too familiar with.

”your highness! what have you done now?”

there it is, you think; the curtain call you’ve been waiting for. with a swift turn of your heel, sheepish expression ready to go, your focus shifts onto one sole objective — act annoying.

”walked into a vase,” you chirp, proudly, just the slightest bit theatrical. gesturing dismissively towards the broken spectacle, as suguru raises himself from the floor. ”my bad. not my fault you make them so easy to break, though.”

she inches closer, with a disapproving stare, and you hear a tick-tock in your ear. sensing the limit of her patience. ”i’ll have you know these vases are expensive,” she clicks her tongue. ”do you truly think you can go around breaking whatever you please?”

”… well. i mean… i do kind of own this place, don’t i? or — i will.” you tilt your head, faux contemplation on your features, shifting into a spoiled smile. ”so — technically — i broke my own vase. no harm done!”

”… my lord —”

”quiet.” suguru stiffens, ever so slightly, following your sharp whisper. ”don’t fuck this up.”

he looks at you, silently. not saying another word.

(there’s a shame in his eyes that you don’t turn your head to see.)

it doesn’t take long for the maid to shoo you away, pinching her brow at your carefree laughter, bitter at the prospect of cleaning up your mess. she makes sure to give suguru a sweet smile, though, and doesn’t bother to hide the sympathy in it. sympathy for him, such a handsome, well-behaved knight, forced to service such a brat.

the smile he gives her in return is a stiff one. almost, almost cold. but he bows, and follows your retreating form, until you’re all alone together.

the walk is silent. maybe just a little heavy, as you try to ignore the stare burning into your skin, trying to swallow your own displeasure. it’s subtle, something you learned to internalize long ago, but it’s there; a slight sadness. you don’t enjoy getting yelled at.

a thick silence stretches on, before crumbling into dust. you aren’t sure how much time has passed when a certain velvety voice curls around your senses.

”your highness.”

he’s come to a standstill, again. you really should just ignore him and keep walking. but you still, anyway, following his cue, turning towards him with a look that says what now? — you aren’t sure what to expect. certainly not the sentence that ends up spilling from his lips, like a spring breeze through an opened window, tinged with something you fear may be close to fondness. 

(in your chest, your heartbeat tick-tocks.)

he smiles, gentle, with eyes that see right through you. and he speaks. 

”you’re actually kind, aren’t you?”

…

”… huh?”

he pays no mind to your stupefied expression. continuing, unperturbed, eyeing you with a look you distinctly dislike — as if he’s trying to glimpse into your mind. ”the vase,” he hums. ”you took the blame, even though you didn’t do it.”

a huff escapes you. face hardening, setting into firm lines. ”that wasn't intentional,” you grumble, defensive. ”i just wanted him to leave.” 

but suguru shakes his head. ”you could’ve left when the maid came. but you stayed, and lied, and got yelled at so he wouldn’t have to.” a second passes, silence thick with meaning. intentional on his part, you’re sure. ”is that not what you’d call kind?”

another moment gone, little tick-tocks of your heartbeat counting down. you part your lips, but no sound comes out, as you stumble for words to say. irritation stirring in your veins. or is it nervosity? you think your skin feels a little hot, suddenly. 

just what the hell is happening?

”i’m… i’m not — ” you bite down on your lip. harshly. stammering, voice cracking a bit, to your great dismay. ”… not kind. i hate all of them.”

”but you protect them,” he whispers, ”look after them.” his smile doesn’t waver, never ever, but you’ve never seen it look quite this knowing. and suddenly, he’s closing in on you, gazing at you with laughter in his eyes. 

you try to stand your ground, wanting nothing more than to flee, curl into yourself, scratch at him until he leaves. but your throat feels so dry, all of a sudden, a sensation that only deepens with the next words he breathes into life. 

”a little sweetheart who pretends to be all big and bad…” he eyes you up and down, a meaningful look, raven locks moving as he tilts his head. towering over you. ”is that what you are?”

nothing. no smart reply comes to you. all you can muster is a harsh glare, a low hiss crawling up your throat, like you’re preparing to lunge at him. it serves as a warning, but the amusement in his eyes doesn’t fluctuate. ”you…”

he chuckles. raspy, breathy, a shiver down your spine. ”your acting is even worse than mine.”

”shut up,” you snap, baring your teeth. it comes out almost like a growl, hot and heavy in your veins, and you don’t understand where all this emotion came from. strangling you, bubbling up within your bobbing throat. ”you don’t — understand me, okay?”

no one does. 

and that’s fine. you don’t want them to. 

(you just want him to stop looking you so fondly.)

”not yet,” he admits, eyes fluttering shut. a thoughtful hum on the tip of his tongue. ”… but i think i’m beginning to.” 

he’s looking at you, again, amber and honey and raven lashes, lapping up every hint of a tell in the way you shift from foot to foot. speaking like he knows you, like he’s known you all his life. ”you act difficult — scare everyone away… but deep down, you love them, don’t you?”

a scoff. desperate. ”no.”

”you want to loved,” he continues, not allowing you to flee. relentless in his pursuit of whatever he imagines must be hidden inside your soul, beneath all those layers of frost. ”understood. everyone does.”

”not me.”

”your highness.”

…

the knight continues to look at you, and you avoid his gaze like it could burn you into cinders — like it could turn you into dust. but he parts his lips, anyway, and speaks. so sincere it makes your chest hurt. words that echo through the endless hallways of the castle, against the surfaces of glass that line the walls. words that make your skin flush under the shadows of rain soon to fall.

he smiles, wide, teeth showing. and he speaks. 

”that was very, very kind of you.”

silence. so thick you wonder if you’re about to faint, or fall to the floor, or something equally embarrassing. a sentence so simple shouldn’t be making you feel this way, this weird. you don’t understand why it makes you feel anything, anything at all, and you don’t understand why your eyes suddenly feel a little glassy.

(someone saw through the act.)

”… whatever,” you squeeze out, at last, but it sounds a little meek. a tiny puff of air. turning around, sharply, blinking rapidly to shoo the tears away. ”i just didn’t want to hear that brat whining. it was hurting my ears.” 

suguru bites back a coo.

as he watches your back retreat, hurrying back to the comfort of your room, he’s almost certain that he’s making progress. that your walls are beginning to crumble, slowly but surely, bit by bit. the path before him clears — a thorny, foggy path through the woods, until a sunsplatter falls on the ground and tells him where to plant his feet. 

it’s not much, barely anything, but suguru’s always liked his hunts blindsighted. 

you turn a corner, and he follows suit. sparing a passing glance at the clouds on the boundary of the horizon, the sole ray of sunlight breaking through. and then he’s catching up to you with long strides.

(it’s his duty, yes, but he doesn’t think he’d mind it so much — getting to know his kind, misunderstood little lord.)

sadly, disappointingly, to your great shame — you begin to grow used to suguru’s presence in your life. constant, always close behind, always ready to be of service. as infuriatingly patient as ever. it’s a stretch, but you may have become just the slightest bit fond of it. 

maybe, possibly, you’ve even silently decided to stop trying to scare him away. stop acting so difficult with him, all the time.

or, well — sometimes.

”take me outside, please?” you whine, bottom lip jutting out into a deep pout, accompanied by a flutter of your lashes. 

the voice that spills from your lips is hopelessly meek, pleading, so sweet you’d get cavities if you didn’t know how fake it was. effortless, perfected, your one god-given talent; an irresistible pair of puppy dog eyes. 

suguru answers with a smile, tight-lipped. ”no.”

a beat.

”aw, come on,” you whine, barely resisting the urge to stomp your feet. frustration bubbles up inside your veins, trickling down to your wrist, nails digging into your palm. ”why not? you’re supposed to listen to my every command!”

”still no, sweetheart.”

a series of grumbles scratch at the base of your throat, but suguru pays them no mind. patient, patient, patient. he’s even kind enough to ignore the way you pointedly avoid his gaze after the term of endearment slips past his lips. ”sorry, but that part is non-negotiable. you know i don’t have a choice.”

you do know. but it still makes your mood sour, pulls a sigh from out of your lips. he moves closer, familiar silver tray in hand, dragging a chair to where you’re seated by the windowsill.

”i did bring you this, though,” he gestures towards a particular glass bowl, filled with red berries. they shine like rubies in the light. ”strawberries, like you asked for. wasn’t easy to get a hold of.”

he places the tray right next to you, smiling as he takes a seat. ”cheer up, hm? don’t be so grumpy.”

your pout remains, but you do settle down a bit. just the teeniest, tiniest bit. definitely not because he was kind enough to indulge your cravings.

”… thanks for breakfast.” 

suguru beams, and you avoid his gaze, like always. biting into one of the rubies, the soft murmur of thanks still burning your tongue, soothed by sweet nectar. he lets you flee, lets you continue on like nothing happened, like it isn’t obvious how much you’ve warmed up to his presence. 

”you’re welcome, my lord.”

…

(even after spending more than a month together, he still won’t call you by name. won’t even entertain the idea. why does that bother you so much?)

peacefully, your morning ritual continues. the same as always; you eat, while suguru watches, a sweet smile on his lips. the silence remains until he opts to break it.

today, he sounds a little hesitant.

”say, your highness…” he picks at a piece of lint on his cloak, absentminded. ”could i ask you for a favour?”

you almost drop your fork. gaze snapping up to meet his own, as a few silent seconds tick on by. tick-tock, tick-tock. then you clear your throat, regaining your composure. trying to sound nonchalant. 

”what is it?” you probe, cutting across the yolk on your fried egg. watching the orange seep out, trickling down, sinking into the crust of your toast. suguru hums. 

”a friend of mine — he’s also a knight…” he wrings his hands together, legs parted. tapping his heel on the floor. ”we’ve been sparring together for a while. once a week, at least. but ever since the king hired me, we haven’t been able to.”

you watch as his gaze flickers down to his lap, then up to you again. it’s smooth, charming, but you still think it seems a little out of place. he must not be used to asking for favours.

”i was wondering if you’d be willing to accompany me? just down to the training fields by the castle.” his fingers tap against his bended knee, slow and methodical, from pointer to pinkie. ”the king gave us permission to spar there, but i’m obviously not allowed to let you out of my sight…”

you bite back a huff. obviously. he waits for a response that doesn’t come.

”… so?”

you meet his gaze, expectant. hopeful, maybe. it’s a nice touch — matches with the amber of his eyes.

”would that be alright with you?” he inquires, again. you think he sounds just a tiny bit unsure of himself.

a moment passes. silently, you look down at your lap. folded hands, itching to do something. something fun, new, exciting. 

your tongue forms around a wish. it spills into the air like a shooting star, a meek little whisper. ”… i wanna swing a sword.”

suguru blinks. once, then twice. ”you…” he tastes the words on his tongue, turning the image of you around in his head. ”want to swing a sword?

you nod. glancing at him, coughing a little under your breath. summoning just a bit of audacity, eyes trailing towards the sword by his hip. longingly. ”… i’ll only watch you spar if you let me try it.” 

a brief pause. he studies you intently, a mystery he’s yet to solve.

then he chuckles, light and airy, full of mirth. a sound you’ve grown fond of. ”well, okay. that’s fair.” he rises to his feet, smiling down at you. ”thank you, my lord.”

you don’t respond. but your eyes glitter with excitement, as you dutifully finish your breakfast, wolfing it down. waiting patiently for him to head down to the kitchen with the tray, for him to change into his training gear. 

when he knocks at your door, he’s wearing a flimsy little blouse. almost see-through, if you squint your eyes enough, exposing his bare skin. you think you see a scar curling up from his chest, reaching for his shoulder, just below it by a hair. and you can see his biceps, the fat, the muscle, practically begging to be bitten.

(tantalizing.)

he’s speaking to you, saying something, but you tune him out. focused on trying to restrain your growing urges. when he reaches up to fix his hair, tied up into a bun, the muscle of his arm twitches.

and, suddenly, you can’t contain yourself. 

giving in to the salivating temptation, you grab hold of his bicep, sinking your teeth into it — gentle, but enough that he feels it, enough to leave a set of teeth marks soon to fade. gnawing at it like a dog with a bone.

suguru blinks. pupils wide, quirking a silent brow, quick to smooth over the surprise in his eyes. 

you don’t move. teeth planted against the fabric, the firm muscle beneath it, surprising even yourself; his arm just looked so biteable. you wonder if he’s put off. upset.

but, as always, he’s eerily placating. like nothing you say or do could rock the ship of his patience, an endless sea. smooth, airy laughter flits past his lips, giving way to an indulgent smile. he studies you with fascination, like you’re a creature he hasn’t encountered before.

ever so gently, he grabs hold of your jaw — and the warmth of his touch shocks you into letting it go slack. before you can say anything, he’s rolling up his sleeve. exposing the tender skin.

”go wild, your highness,” he grins, offering his arm up like a lamb to a hungry fox. a teasing mirth in his eyes, his voice coming out as a low purr. ”i don't mind a mark or two.”

to your horror — it flusters you terribly.

you cough. taking a step back, averting your gaze, suddenly disinterested. feigning indifference, anyhow; that was definitely a scar. and a cool one, too. you think you might even have caught a glimpse of a birthmark or two. 

”i’m… just keeping you on your toes,” you stumble for an excuse, still unable to look at him properly. missing the way he stifles a bout of laughter. ”for your training, y’know? gotta stay on your guard.”

”of course. i appreciate the help,” he quips, fond, as he gestures for you to take the lead. ”he’s waiting for us. are you ready?”

for a second, just a second, you consider grabbing his arm. letting him guide you. but the thought is fleeting, like a bundle of peach blossoms, brushed away by the sunshine seeping in through the window’s glass — illuminating the marble flooring. 

a mellow excitement simmers in your bones. 

you head down to the training grounds with a pep in your step, and your loyal knight follows suit. just behind, always, wearing a smile you can’t see.

”suguru!”

the man that greets you with cheerful fervour, seated cross-legged under a peach tree, isn’t quite what you expected him to be. 

when you heard knight, you imagined someone a bit more… intimidating. but this guy is far from imposing. a little shorter than suguru, brown locks stopping right around his ears, exposing his sunkissed skin. freckles scattered across his nose and cheekbones, a happy little grin curled right around his lips. 

he’s cute. a bit like a puppy. not very knightly, though.

”haibara,” suguru greets, a mellow warmth to his voice. the man in question shoots up from the ground, stumbling towards you both, excitement in his hazel eyes. suguru gestures towards you. ”this is the royal heir. the one who doesn’t like having their hand kissed.”

your head whips towards him, an angered flush to your cheeks — you’re almost sure that he’s smirking, giving you a teasing glance, but haibara’s exclamation prevents you from voicing any protests. 

”hi!” he beams, bowing deeply, so sudden that you jolt a bit. his head whips up instantly, brown locks stirred by the breeze, voice warm and smooth. like honeysuckle nectar. ”thank you so much for letting us spar, your highness! i’ve heard so much about you!”

”… um.” your gaze falls down to a pebble on the ground. unsure of how to act, murmuring under your breath. ”you — it’s… no need to thank me. i wanted to get some air, anyway.”

he continues to look at you, eyes shining with a pure kind of cheer. glittering, honeyed and sweet, too bright to look at directly. you hear suguru exhale amusedly to your left. he’s looking right at you when you glance towards him. 

his hand inches closer to his scabbard, fingertips trailing down the leather. ”should we get started?”

haibara brightens even further, if possible. ”oh, right!” he exclaims. ”you wanted to try swinging a sword, your highness? that’s so exciting! is this your first time?”

a blink. you aren’t really sure how to handle this guy; he’s a bit too sunny to be snarky to. like a fuzzy ball of sunshine given human form, bouncing on the balls of his feet, tail practically wagging behind him. all you can muster is a weak cough. ”uh, yeah.”

”well, you’re here to learn.” suguru speaks up. guiding you both towards the center of the field, hand still at the sword on his hip. ”let me show you.”

in one smooth motion, he’s pulling it out of its sheath, a stripe of silver absorbing the rays of the sun. glimmering, slicing the blue sky in half. 

you’re a little awestruck.

and then he’s facing you. leaning forward, with a familiar tilt of his head, offering the blade with a smile. ”do you want to try swinging it around a bit?”

barely containing your excitement, you nod. making grabby hands at it.

that makes him chuckle. he makes no move to stop you when your fingers curl around the hilt, only parting his lips for a quick warning, a split second too late. you take it into your arms. ”careful, it’s a bit —”

— the sword clatters to the ground with a thud.

silence.

haibara breaks out into laughter, sudden, fond and warm, but enough to have your cheeks burning. fresh with embarrassment, humiliation, before you even hear the breathy chuckle that slips from your knight’s lips.

”… i was gonna say it’s a bit heavy,” he hums, closed knuckle in front of his lips and obscuring his smile. ”i’m sorry, my lord. do you —”

”whatever.” a hiss escapes your throat, and suguru winces. he knows where this is going; knows a bundle of thorns just erupted from the stalk of your spine, knows you're about to get defensive. ”like i’d ever want to touch your dusty sword. get — get real.”

he tries again. patient, patient. the familiar tick-tock of his never-ending kindness. ”hey, we aren’t making fun of you,” he soothes, hoping it’ll make your edges soften. like scratching a feral dog behind its ear. ”it’s understandable. you weren’t expecting it. i’ll let you try again, hm?”

a tiny pause. 

(you’re being childish, again.)

brows furrowed, hanging your head, you kick at a pebble on the ground. having collected yourself a bit. ”… maybe next time,” you finally speak, still grumbling. after you’ve spent some time lifting weights in your room.

suguru tilts his head. speaking softly. ”you sure?”

”yeah.” taking a step back, you raise your head to meet his gaze. ”i’ll just watch you. it’s fine.”

”… okay,” he exhales. leaning forward to pick up his sword from the ground. ”i can spar with you next time, if you want. you’ll be a pro in no time.”

he gives you another sweet smile, bangs fluttering with the breeze; painted in cerulean sunshine. he’s so gorgeous it makes you angry.

a sharp huff. ”don’t patronize me,” is all you can mutter, meeting the eyes of the knight by his side. standing up straighter. ”haibara,” you call. ”knock him around a bit for me, okay?”

from the corner of your eye, suguru pouts.

but the puppy-knight only grins, as bright as the sun in the sky. ”you got it, your highness!” he salutes, cheeks flushing with giddy excitement. 

as you sit on the benches a little farther away, dragonflies buzz in the air. fleeting glimmers of chartreuse and cerulean, chirping happily, keeping you company as you watch the knights spar. the clangs of their blades, the elegance in the way suguru moves. a violent little waltz. he’s sweating, just a bit, but you can see it, droplets glittering in the sun. he looks like he’s having fun. 

he looks like himself. like he isn’t holding back, isn’t acting obedient or well-mannered for the sake of pleasing his superiors. like this, here and now, he looks wild, free, a dog that turns into a wolf under the glow of the sun. 

for a second, your eyes meet — just as he narrowly avoids a slash. 

and he smirks, ever so slightly, suddenly gaining a little more momentum. flashing a brief grin, sunlight reflecting off his white teeth. you huff. heat crawling up your neck. 

show off.

”excuse me, your highness?”

the sudden voice snaps you out of your stupor. mesmerized, by the spectacle before you, the glimmer of their blades and the sight of your knight’s smile. it’s an unfamiliar voice, close, close enough that your head turns to meet the stranger’s ugly grin — inching closer still.

(uh oh.)

— just up ahead, lost in their own worlds, are two knights; huffing and smirking and narrowly dodging each other’s strikes. suguru takes the lead, as always, guiding haibara into improving his swordsmanship. but they both learn from it. and it’s fun, lighthearted, a respite from their more gruesome duties. 

it’s helped suguru more times than he can count; those tiny flickers of normalcy, in a wholly unpredictable profession. a life of bowing and bowing and killing what needs to be killed.

slash, slash, and then two steps back. the same old dance. haibara’s starting to lose momentum, he notices, adam’s apple bobbing with his heavy breaths.

so suguru stills. ”alright, that’s enough for now,” he calls, stretching idly. craning his head, looking around him absently. he wonders if you’re still watching. ”i think i see what the problem is.”

haibara perks up, obeying without a word, wiping the sweat off his forehead and walking towards his friend with a sunny smile. ”okay, great!”

but suguru isn’t looking at him, anymore. 

he’s looking towards the benches, where his little lord is seated, speaking to an unfamiliar man. one who currently has his hand on their forearm, caressing it. you look guarded, irritated, a little like you’re about to bare your teeth. trying to pull away, but he doesn’t let you. and suguru recognizes that look — the one that means you’re about to start biting and hissing, inching your claws into whatever’s within reach.

(not to injure, but to ground yourself, he’s learned. like how you clutch onto the fabric of your clothing when you’re nervous, sink your nails into your palm. not to injure, but to feel safe.)

in the blink of an eye, he’s making his way towards you. beckoned by his duty, his natural instinct, a protective itch that curls around his ribcage and crawls up his throat. large strides, much swifter than usual. he moves without thinking, and he’s there before he has the time to form a coherent thought.

with as much gentleness as he can possibly muster, he grabs hold of the stranger’s arm. smiling, tight-lipped, cold. ”excuse me, sir,” he greets, ”i need to borrow them for a moment.”

the man meets his gaze with a sour look. bitter, ugly, oddly possessive — like he thinks he owns the arm he’s holding. it makes suguru want to teach him a lesson, show off his sword, but he resists the temptation in a way you never could. his expression is a warning, though, enough to scare most rowdy drunkards and snobby royals away.

and it works. the stranger looks to you, briefly, before finally letting go of your poor arm. something rigid in suguru’s jaw finally relaxes. ”who are you?” comes a question, as the man turns to face him with a look full of contempt. ”their knight?”

before suguru can say anything, you’ve hopped off the bench. clinging to him, with a firm nod; your arms around his bicep. ”yeah. he is.”

(suguru fails to stifle a smug smile.)

with a string of bitter mumbles and a silent frustration, the man scurries away. hesitant, only after being met with another warning glance from the knight in front of him. intimidating, far less subtle, towering above him like a predator over their prey.

as soon as he’s out of sight, your knight turns to you, scanning your face for signs of discomfort. loyal, attentive. ”are you okay?” he asks, a silent shame in his voice. if only he had noticed sooner. ”did he do anything to you?”

you shake your head. ”it’s fine. probably one of the king’s friends — stops by every now and then.” a sigh, a little fatigued, following your explanation. ”they’re mostly harmless. just creepy and touchy.”

”that doesn’t sound very harmless…” suguru lets you pull away, quick to hide the disappointment that flashes in his eyes as you do, waving haibara off with a silent gesture of give us a minute. ”don’t worry. i’ll keep an eye out, from now on.”

still a little guarded, you nod. letting suguru guide you by the small of your back, taking a seat on the solid bench once more. together, this time. 

”there are a lot of those types around the town square,” he exhales, weary, stretching out his limbs before leaning forward. elbows resting on his bended knees. ”they’re a pain to deal with. i’m sorry you have to.”

”are there?” you ask, tone laced with curiosity. ”in the town?” 

”well, i’m sure you’ve heard. that place is a bit of a mess, these days…” a click of his tongue. ”more work for the knights.”

a dragonfly settles on the bridge of his nose. suguru blinks, smiling gently, until it flutters away with a raspy squeak. fading away, melting into the blue paint of the sky. you bite down on your lip. 

”… i haven’t.”

he turns to look at you. raising a brow.

”i haven’t heard about it at all. the king told you, right?” you meet his eye with a rueful smile, before leaning back, nose turned up towards the sky. for a second, you think the air smells a bit of rain. ”i’m not allowed to go out into town.”

your knight falls silent.

so you continue. grinning, with no humour to it. maybe a bit eager to overshare, to break the silent rules you’ve been given. the secret tastes like honey on your tongue. ”i’m a bastard child. he probably told you that, too.” you wouldn’t be surprised. ”thinks it's optimal for everyone involved if i just stay cooped up in the castle.” 

closing your eyes, your voice drips with something close to longing. barely above a whisper. ”i haven't been to the town in a couple of years, now.”

…

he only hums. ”i see.”

(there’s sympathy, in his amber eyes, but you don’t turn around to see it. you don’t turn to look at him until he’s finished sparring, and haibara’s about to leave. 

you wonder if he’ll meet your gaze the same way as before.) 

— that evening, suguru knocks at your door right as you're about to fall asleep. three rapid knocks, the same as always, knuckle against wood. rousing you from your rest.

when you open it, he’s holding something out towards you.

”here,” he says, voice set to a mellow tilt. upon closer inspection, he’s holding a bottle. transparent, see-through, stuffed to the brim with sea glass. smooth little colourful pebbles, green and blue and pink and orange, like frozen little camellias. ”for you, my lord.”

blinking sluggishly, you take it into your arms; holding it up in front of your eyes. when the light of the moon flitting in through the curtains hits it just right, it blossoms with colour, sparkling with every shade you’ve ever seen. shining like a heap of jewels, in your hands, like something out of a picture-book. magical.

it’s mesmerizing. 

”i asked haibara to get it from the town,” he explains, drinking in your expression of awe. ”this one lady — she collects them herself. i see her by the beach nearly every time i go there.”

when you look up, his smile is serene. peaceful, if just a little bit tired. but he looks pleased, lips curling around silky syllables. ”i thought of you.”

it’s odd, you think. you aren’t a stranger to gifts; you get most of what you desire if you just say the word, an easy way for the king to keep you compliant. as if to make up for the plethora of experiences you’ve missed out on since your birth. and you’ve had more than a couple suitors, men and women, eager to gain your favour. 

but this — this particular gift…

…

”it’s pretty,” you murmur, finally, unable to voice even a sliver of the emotions clogging up your chest. shying away from his gaze, feeling your heart pulse against your ribcage. ”… i guess.”

suguru just smiles. always, always, always. no matter what you do. ”i’ll get you something else next time,” he promises, ready to go back to standing guard outside the castle. ”get some sleep, okay? be good.”

and you can’t bring yourself to protest. not even a tiny huff of don’t tell me what to do. you can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod, soft and pliant, still gazing at the bottle of sea glass in your hands. like you might turn into one of those transparent pebbles, if you wish for it enough.

that night, you dream of waves crashing against sand, the taste of seafoam on your tongue. every colour in the world. a newfound, reawakened wish — a wish to see more of it.

”are you trying to sneak out again?”

owlishly, all you can do is blink. propped up on the windowsill, immersed in the process of tying pillowcases and bedsheets together to form a rope. caught in the act — by none other than suguru, standing by the threshold, hand on his hip, watching you with silent disapproval. you didn’t think he’d come check on you this late.

a gulp. ”… no?”

and he sighs. walking towards you, brows furrowed, running a hand through his raven locks. you can tell he’s trying to be a little more sympathetic, this time, but it only makes the bitter taste on your tongue thicken. 

”look — i know it’s not fair to you, but the king and queen specifically ordered me —”

”i get it,” you cut him off, with a hiss, a little harsher than you meant to. you soften your voice before continuing. "i know. okay? i know.”

resigned, but frustrated, you clench the silken material of the bedsheets. glaring at them like it’s somehow their fault that the queen couldn’t bear an heir, that your father has a knack for sleeping around. like it’s their fault that he’s so ashamed of your existence that he doesn’t want you integrating into society on anything other than his own terms, until he’s dead and gone and doesn’t have to take accountability anymore. 

like it’s their fault that it’ll always be like this, forever, that it’s better not to hope for more.

(why can’t you just accept that?)

the knight before you exhales. troubled, watching your nails dig into the fabric, watching the way you bite down on your lip and rapidly blink. all signs of your frustration, your sadness, that you always try so hard to hide. 

”hey. how about this?” he tries to get your attention, voice soothing enough to coax you into raising your gaze. ”i’ll tell you a story instead.”

he stifles a chuckle, at the dubious look you send his way, teetering on the edge of a glare. slithering towards you. ”i’ve seen a lot of places. i can tell you about them, if you’d like.” he takes a seat right next to you, on the windowsill, a slice of the moon in bare view. ”what do you want to know?”

you’re silent, for a second. gnawing at your bottom lip, in contemplation, the tiniest bit of nervosity. like you aren’t quite sure if you’re allowed to speak your wishes aloud.

”… the woods.”

suguru blinks. a little caught off guard. 

his silence makes you want to bare your fangs, a bit. misinterpreting it as judgement. your voice comes out cold. ”what?”

but he’s quick to smooth over his features with a smile, as always, cocking his head amusedly. ”sorry — i was expecting you to say the sea, or something,” he stifles a chuckle. “it's the woods that you're so curious about?”

you pout. ”… you can see them from here.”

his head turns towards the window’s glass, squinting his eyes to see the sea of dark green in the distance, a cluster of thick trees. he hums. ”yeah, you can. well… that particular spot isn’t too bad. not many bandits or beasts.” your gaze stays glued onto his lips, every word that spills from them. ”there are wolves, though. this side of the kingdom is crawling with them.”

”they sell their fur,” you state.

(that’s one thing you do know. you spent more of your childhood around wolf pelts than your own parents. they might as well be your legal guardians.)

suguru nods. ”they do. it's a big portion of the kingdom’s exports… general market, as well.”

a frown tugs at your lips. you think of your fluffy childhood guardians, unable to howl or even make a sound; hunters turned decorations.

”isn’t that… kinda fucked up?”

he smiles, revealing no emotion. ”do you think it is?”

you only shrug. ”i’m not surprised that they eat us.” you think of all the stories you’ve heard, the fairy tales you grew up with. ”… if i was a wolf, i’d hate humans too.”

”would you, now?” familiar amusement, seeping from his tongue, soft crows’ feet by his cedar eyes. ”good thing you aren’t a wolf, then. we’re lucky.”

”mhm. you’d be my first target.”

that makes him chuckle, a little deeper this time, and you drink in the glimpse you get of his teeth, the fondness that dances across his face when he looks at you. 

a sudden urge overtakes you. 

”… i wanna know about something else.”

”oh?” he tilts his head, soft locks framing his kind eyes. ”and what would that be, my dear?”

”you.”

… 

for a moment, the mask falls. a silent, subtle kind of surprise, something in the way the tips of his fingers twitch that tells you he’s caught off guard. it coaxes you into continuing, following through with your question. swallowing the embarrassment. ”i wanna know more about you. how you became a knight, and… stuff.”

suguru looks at you with a strange glint in his eyes. undecipherable, unspoken, just watching as moonrays glide across your soft skin. ruffling your hair. 

a hum buzzes in his throat. he scratches at the back of his neck, resisting the urge to dodge your question. clicking his tongue. ”… well.”

anticipation blooms in your eyes, and you cross your legs, waiting patiently to hear him speak. he can’t deny you, when you look at him like that — so suguru simply exhales. a breath of indulgence. 

”it’s not a very interesting story,” he leads, closing his eyes in remembrance. ”they scouted me when i was pretty young…. a bit of a troublemaker, honestly, but i got lucky." memories flash behind his eyelids, fresh bruises, sliced fruit. bittersweet. ”ended up around some powerful people. they liked me. knighthood felt like the right choice.” 

he meets your entranced gaze, speaking with sincerity, devotion dipped in honey and holy water. sinking deeper still. ”it’s my purpose in life,” he breathes, a flurry of whispers on his tongue. heavier than either of you know. ”truly.”

you cock your head. ”being a knight?”

”protecting the weak,” he says. recites. like he’s said it a million times before, in the face of beasts, in the reflection of broken mirrors, a mantra to live and die by. ”protecting those who can’t protect themselves.”

the look in his eyes frightens you. deeper than the deepest lake, dark and murky, dragging him down. a devotion that smells of iron, tastes like steel. mania disguised as loyalty.

(knights love duty. almost as much as they love dying for it. that’s what your father always says.)

”but, honestly — this kind of thing isn’t bad,” he breaks you out of your trance, grinning sheepishly, almost boyishly. ”it’s been a while since i had so much fun on the job… thank you for that.”

he’s looking at you, right at you, into your eyes, an expression reserved for you and you alone. terribly earnest, grateful, a sincerity he wouldn’t show anyone else. ”honestly.”

you can do nothing but avert your gaze. swiftly, meekly, feeling heat crawl up your neck, blooming across your cheeks like the branches of a plum tree. suguru grins, gulping down the slightest coo — but he can’t resist the urge to poke fun at you a bit.

”… you’re a shy one, aren’t you?” he searches for your gaze, chuckling when he doesn’t find it. when you don’t let him. ”can’t even look people in the eye if they’re being nice to you… how precious.”

”oh, shut up,” you groan, glaring out into the night sky. blinking slowly, drowsily, biting back a yawn that your attentive knight still manages to notice. 

(he looks a little enamored.)

”ah… is my sweet little lord getting sleepy?”

”no,” you scoff, far too quick. ”i’m… tired.”

”of course.” he reaches out, carefully, to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. ”tired — not sleepy. that would be outrageous, wouldn’t it?” 

a yawn. ”it would.” 

low laughter bubbles up at the base of his throat, like seafoam, melting roses. deep and summery. ”alright. that’s enough stories for tonight, i think.” and with that, he gets up. ”let’s get you to bed, hm?”

rubbing your eyes, absently kicking your legs, you give him a slow nod of your head. making grabby hands at him that you’re sure you’ll be embarrassed about in the morning — but it feels easy, to be greedy, to know that your wants won’t be ignored when you’re with him. ”carry me, suguru.”

an indulgent smile. he doesn’t say anything, only curling his arms under your thighs, lifting you up and cradling you to his chest. you can feel his firm muscles, like this, trace them with your fingertips, hear the beating of his heart. tick-tock, tick-tock. a lullaby. a sense of safety, when you can’t tell where your heartbeat ends and his begins.

lost in that fuzzy, sleepy feeling, a blink away from falling into dreamland, fatigue washes over you — but you cling to his sleeve, even as he tucks you in, dragging the blanket up to cover you properly. 

”suguru,” you murmur, so quiet you doubt he hears it. ”will you tell me more stories tomorrow?”

”of course.” right before sleep coaxes you into its cradle, you feel the weight of his palm on your head; ruffling your hair. ”as many as you want, your highness.”

he smiles, as your eyes flutter shut, at the soft little breaths that flow from your lips. before he slips out, he blows out the candle on the nightstand, a silent prayer that your dreams will be kinder to you than his. 

— one week of nagging later, suguru’s resolve finally crumbles. it’s progress, at last, a tiny crack in his clockwork heart. 

but for once, it works in your favour.

”do you really want to see the outside world that badly?”

he’s got an arm locked around your waist, stopping you from one of your numerous escape attempts. you’ve gotten bolder, sneaking away the moment he takes his eyes off you, but suguru isn’t easy to fool — catching up to you just as you stepped outside the castle, now stuck in place under the portico. it’s to be expected, with that sixth sense of his, the one that seems to alert him as soon as you think the thought to get him in trouble. 

but you still can’t help but pout, huff and puff, pushing at his chest in a helpless attempt to break free. he’s sweet about it, gentle, but entirely unmoving. like a big, annoyingly handsome rock.

”what do you think?” you scoff, narrowing your eyes at him. ”no, of course not. this whole time, i’ve just been trying to escape for fun. like, as a bit. how could you tell?”

he rolls his eyes, and you break out into a grin. ”mind the sarcasm, please.” he barely resists the urge to pinch your side; letting you loose, instead, trusting you not to scurry away. he’d catch up to you instantly, anyhow. "i’m just saying, it might not be as interesting as you think —“

”what are you, stupid?”

”what did we say about letting people finish their sentences?” he raises a brow, and you try not to cower. rolling your eyes, instead. suguru just sighs. ”i understand why you want to leave. but you have a good life, here. better than most.”

”… i know that,” you grumble, biting down on your lip. a resignation in your eyes that your knight can't protect you from. ”i just —”

you sigh. 

”it’s just so suffocating.”

suguru falls into a contemplative silence. weighing his options, studying the flicker of emotions in your eyes, the tapping of your idle fingers. hands eager to fidget with something. 

moments pass, one at a time, a familiar lullaby of pitter patter ricocheting off the ground just outside your vision. the air smells of marigolds, burning wood, wet concrete. the beginnings of summer.

finally, he makes up his mind. 

”okay, okay.”

when you look up from the ground, what awaits you is an outstretched hand. a familiar palm, and a familiar knight, with a familiar smile on his face. ”but don’t get used to it, alright?”

…

you part your lips, but no sound comes out. gaping like a fish out of water, hunting for the right words. suguru waits. patient.

”w — hold on,” you stutter, eyes blooming with hesitant hope, studying him intently for any signs of trickery. ”you mean — seriously? like, for real?”

he shrugs. ”it’s my duty to keep you happy.” devotion clings to his tongue, sweet indulgence. ”figure i can make an exception this once.”

another moment passes.

(there isn’t a hint of deceit in his features.)

a grin breaks out across your lips, like a joyous bolt of lighting, and you lunge into his chest — throwing your arms over his broad shoulders, jumping up and down, planting a wet kiss against his cheek. bubbly, giddy, heart racing with disbelief. you don’t even have it in you to be bratty. ”thank you, thank you, thank you!”

suguru makes a choked out noise, a little comical, breath hitching in the back of his throat. stabilizing you with a palm on the small of your back, patting it softly, once or twice, before retracting his arm and pulling away. clearing his throat. ”… you’re welcome.”

(his ears burn a cherry red.)

”but this is our little secret,” he reminds you, firmly, collecting himself. or trying to. ”got it?”

”yep.”

”if anyone asks, you —”

”yep, yep, understood.” you brush him off, still grinning brightly. ”don’t worry! i won’t tell a soul, i promise. swear on my mother’s grave!”

your knight exhales. worried, maybe, a little exasperated — mostly just trying to mask how infectious your joy is. how addicted he is to it, now that he’s seen it up close. he’s only caught glimpses in the midst of your painting sessions; to see it directed at him instead of the wolf on your canvas is a treasure he won’t soon forget. 

sneakily, stealthily, like a pair of bad dogs, the two of you begin your journey to the woods on the horizon. wearing cloaks, sticking together, until the sun begins to set and the sky drains of colour. 

and before you know it, it’s right there in front of you. a narrow path into the woods, a cluster of trees, a world you’ve always dreamed of. dark and gritty, beautiful, brimming with bugs and sights yet to be seen. creatures you could only ever see in picture books. a dreamlike world that takes shape before you, like paint splattered on a canvas, as you follow suguru’s lead — right behind him, clinging to the fabric of his cloak, excitement flooding your veins. heart thumping erratically in your chest. 

when you’ve made it to a tiny clearing, you stop in your tracks. suguru’s holding a lantern, a flicker of orange in the dark green world before you, attracting fuzzy moths. proud trees stand tall all around you, keeping guard, mushrooms and forget me nots scattered across the dewy patches of grass. keeping them company. 

everything smells of life, earth, oak wood and thinly veiled secrets. you want to live here forever.

suguru turns to look at you, noticing the way you’ve stilled. completely mesmerized, bewitched, eyes gleaming with childlike happiness. he tuts, doing a bad job at hiding how pleased he is. the sound makes you meet his eye.

”careful,” he croons, inching closer. fingertips ghosting over your wrist, right above your pulsepoint. ”could be wolves around. stay close.”

you tilt your head, feigning confusion. ”i’ve already got one right next to me, though?”

the comment earns you a flat expression, unimpressed, and it pulls a giggle from out your throat. the corners of suguru’s lips curl up, unwillingly, as he shakes his head; exhaling a tired breath. exasperated. 

then he hums. ”well, at least you're aware.”

suddenly, he’s walking forward, slipping away, cold air replacing the buzzing warmth of his skin on yours. hot blood, ever flowing, hidden within his veins — pumped out from his heavy heart. it’s there and then it’s gone. tick, tock, one step after the other, until he’s turning around to face you again. unfurling his outstretched hand, waiting for you to grab hold of it. 

his long hair sways with the breeze, smooth and unburdened, black like the night sky above you. a starry glint in his eyes. his voice comes out deep, a raspy lilt, like the scraping of metal against concrete. 

when he smiles, you think you catch a glimpse of sharp teeth.

”will you trust this wolf to keep you safe?”

under the web of shadows cast by the trees, barely illuminated by the shivering moon, all you can do is watch him. his gleaming eyes, the curl of a toothy grin on his lips. a knight, a wolf, a friend.

your protector. 

finally, finally, you grasp onto his offered hand. his fingers intertwine with your own, a puzzle finally solved, and his palm feels a little calloused. skin littered with tiny scars, years of training and killing, but it’s still somehow so soft. nice and smooth. 

he’s warm. and now he’s smiling at you, like you put all the gold of the world into his palm. 

”yeah,” you grin, a little cheeky. stepping closer, clinging to him without restraint, knowing he’ll indulge you. ”keep me safe, wolfie.”

his laughter rings out into the air like a cicada song, sweet and nostalgic. or a howl, maybe. it makes you want to gnaw at his bones; memorize his taste, so you’ll never quite be without him. it’s not your fault he looks so chewable when he’s smiling like that.

”i will,” he promises, vows, pledges, hand on his heavy heart. knights and their rituals. ”you don’t have to worry about a thing. not while i’m here.”

and you don’t. you know you don’t. because suguru is the greatest knight, the coolest wolf, and his clockwork heart never ceases to tick. it won’t break under pressure, no matter how much you push — so you don’t bother holding back. wrapping both arms around his bicep, cozying up to him, tugging at his cloak with a pep in your step. 

”c’mon, c’mon!" you beckon him forward. "i wanna see how everything looks up close.”

and he just lets you manhandle him, for a bit. following your lead. ”of course,” he croons. ”your wish is my command, your highness.”

the night stretches on, seemingly never-ending, like the branches of the oak tree you find in the heart of the woods. broken, beautiful, stretching out in all directions — as if wishing to engulf the world. a garden of forking paths, covered in jagged bark, but still somehow so warm to the touch. you’re sure there’s a heartbeat in there, somewhere. maybe a couple of swords too.

all good things must come to an end. but you refuse to leave the comfort of your mossy haven until suguru promises to bring you back, someday, maybe, if you play nice. it’s a deal that you’re willing to take.

only then do you begin your journey back towards the castle. having gotten your fill, for now, left to wallow in the newfound sights etched into your memory. still clinging to your knight like a child with their favorite doll, babbling into his ear about something or another. about how you’re almost sure you saw a wolf in the bushes, about how pretty the cicadas’ songs were. how you’re gonna convince him to take you there every single day.

the sun is yawning, stretching its endless limbs out, getting ready to rise and envelop the world. the sky is a calm blue, soon to be painted orange and pink, but you aren’t tired at all. you must sound a little incoherent, but suguru nods along to your every word. listening attentively.

so kind. so patient. sure, he’s a tease, and more than a little patronizing — but you don’t think you’ve ever liked anyone this much before. it’s weird. it’s fun. 

(you wonder if he feels the same.)

”hey, suguru?”

he keeps his eyes locked on the road ahead, but still spares you a brief glance, just to let you know you have his full attention. a second of hesitance is all your sleepy brain allows you, curiosity enveloping most of your functioning thoughts.

”would you… i mean. if i was, like… a different person —” you pause. suguru quirks a brow, and you suddenly feel a little flustered. ”um, what i mean is! like, if the king ordered you to be someone else’s knight… would you protect them like you do with me?”

he blinks. once, then twice, meeting your hopeful gaze. stifling a yawn, and parting his lips. 

”obviously.”

…

your face falls. lips dropping down into a soft pout, rich with disappointment, paired with a barely audible huff. suguru furrows his brows, playfully, smiling in the way he always does when he’s about to tease you.

”ah, my bad,” he croons. ”were you expecting something else? a… forbidden romance, perhaps?”

before you can begin to protest, warmth rushing to your cheeks, he stops walking. dropping down on one knee, dramatically, with a flutter of his cloak. theatrical. 

gently, he grabs hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips as his eyes flutter shut. you bite back a squeak. his voice comes out low, sultry, honeyed — so heavy with emotion that it’s obvious he’s faking it. ”the only person i yearn to protect is you, my liege,” his breath feels hot against your skin. ”i could never love another. i exist for you, and you alone.” 

suddenly, he’s smirking. you feel it against the knots of your knuckle, right before he cracks a single eye open. glimmering with deep amusement. ”… is that better?”

and you huff. sharply, doing all that you can to avoid getting flustered, his heavy gaze burning right into your own. it really, really doesn’t work. ”you’re so mean.”

”not mean,” he chuckles, rising to his feet. dusting off his cloak. ”i’m just… managing your expectations, my lord. they’d have my head on the chopping block if i so much as touched you without their consent — you know that.”

another little huff. ”i never said i wanted you to…” 

(you do, though.)

suguru hums. ”i’m your knight,” he reminds you, as always, until you get tired of hearing it. steadfast, irrefutable. ”that’s all. remember?”

something bitter settles on your tongue. 

but you nod. ”that’s right,” you hum. ”mine.”

a teasing mirth flickers through his eyes, like the first setting sunrays reflecting off cathedral glass. reverent, dyeing the world in all the colour it asks for. and he chuckles, raspy, amused. ”possessive little thing…”

that’s right, you remind yourself. he’s your knight. your lying, teasing, playwright of a knight. always wearing a mask, hiding behind a suit of armor, playing one role or another. only baring himself under the light of the sun, when no one is around to see. he’s infuriatingly patient, endlessly loyal, the greatest bootlicker you’ve encountered in your life. but he’s kind, too. maybe a little too kind. 

and he always, always kneels. 

such a large man, all toned muscle and tall stature, broad shoulders and a firm chest — kneeling at your feet. like a loyal dog. with a rustle of armor, a flutter of fabric, a sigh and a smile. as soon as you ask for it.

”c’mon. let’s hurry back,” you hear him say, biting back another yawn. ”before anyone finds out i kidnapped you. don’t want me to get in trouble, do you?”

”i kinda do.”

a silent look. unimpressed. it’s the most sincere expression he knows how to make, and also the most comical. ”careful,” he looks ahead, hiding his amused smile. ”wolves eat bratty heirs, you know? better stay on my good side, your highness.”

a bout of sleepy giggles. you curl an arm around his bicep, putting your weight onto him, but he doesn’t stumble. ”sorry, mr wolf! please, by all means, eat my dear father instead.”

”don’t be disrespectful.”

”sorry,” you quip, entirely unapologetic. ”i forgot you had a crush on him. that’s my ba — ow!”

suguru brushes by you, walking forward, hiding his growing grin. leaving you with an ache in your hip and two wide eyes. 

”hurry up, my lord. we don’t have all day.”

”wha — you pinched me!” you stumble after him, barely containing your quiet delight. ”they’ll have your head for this, you know!”

silent laughter. you don’t need to hear it to know that it’s there, just ahead of you, tucked into crows’ feet and a curl of his lips.

suguru always kneels.

but, sometimes, he talks to you as if you’re equals. sometimes he takes the lead, pinches your hip, tells you off a little. teasing, patient, but there’s an edge to him that he doesn’t always hide. sometimes, he lets you see it, and you figure that must make you at least a little bit special.

sometimes, he feels like your best friend.

careless, careless, careless.

how could he ever be so careless?

everything blurs into a puddle of red. murky, sticky, everywhere all at once. all he sees is red, all he feels is burning. his heartbeat pulses at the base of his throat, bottom lip bruised and aching from hours of sinking his teeth into the flesh, over and over — every single nerve of his body running on adrenaline and nothing else.

(adrenaline and fear, maybe, but they’ve always been synonymous. never one without the other.)

the slaughter is mindless. suguru knows that’s how they like it, anyhow — knights aren’t supposed to think. they don’t need to. 

suguru certainly isn’t. cutting his way through the bandit’s den, practically growling, sword painted such a dark shade of red that he doubts he’ll ever be able to wipe it clean. harsh slashes, pure instinct, wildfire inside his veins, iron on his tongue. 

suguru isn’t thinking, he’s hunting. sniffing like a bloodhound. eyes scanning the area before him like a hungry beast.

suguru is hunting — for you.

and when he sees you, at last, tied up and barely conscious, he’s almost certain he’s going to grow claws, fangs, matted fur. that he’s going to turn into a beast beneath the fading moonlight.

but he falls to his knees, instead, like a wounded dog. throwing his burganet off, with a clatter, crawling closer. heaving breaths, untying you with shaky hands, greedy fingertips hunting for a pulsepoint —

and only when he finds it does he allow himself the luxury of breathing again.

when you come to, veins dragged down by a fuzzy sensation, your vision is blurred. foggy, dull colours on the canvas of your mind, gradually washed away as you struggle for control. you stir, and finally see the figure above you. 

what you see is a knight, a wolf, a beast beneath the moonlight. a kind, kind man.

suguru.

bloodied armor. sweaty, messy hair, sticking to his forehead. pure panic in his bloodshot eyes. he cradles your face, cold metal on your cheek, dirty and smelling of iron. he moves his mouth; you delude yourself into thinking that his bottom lip is trembling. forming around familiar vowels.

he’s saying your name.

there must be something wrong with you, you belatedly realize. the last one to do so. because you’re hurt, scared, but you still feel a skip of your heartbeat. 

(he finally said it.)

you muster all the strength at your disposal, eyelids fluttering. and you try to answer, you do, reaching for that thread between your brain and your tongue — but it comes out as a garbled little thing, more air than noise. 

it’s enough. the tense crease between his brows melts away, and he sighs.

”oh, thank the heavens.”

another sensation. he’s touching your hand, now, cold metal on warm skin, bringing it up to his lips; a shaky little exhale brushing against the knots of your knuckle. his lips are chapped. 

then he’s scooping you up, cradling you close, as close as metaphysically possible, as if willing to cut his stomach open to fit you inside. a firm grip, comforting, stable. desperate, a mother wolf carrying her cub to safety, by the skin of her teeth. his hair tickles your skin, but you don’t mind.

only when he brings you back to the castle does everything fall into place. he explains everything, as you sit in bed, still recovering. a sudden attack, from within the castle, a kidnapping. some enemies of the king, a scandal to do with you and your blood. something, something, something. you’ve grown used to not understanding why you keep getting hurt. and you’re too distracted by the sullen face of the knight in front of you to pay attention.

suguru wasn’t there to stop it — wasn’t there to save you, be your knight in dashing armor. the king had invited him to a game of chess, and you had been adamant in your refusal to join them.

so you don’t understand why he’s apologizing.

he’s smiling, but it’s weak, as flimsy as a piece of paper. his lying smile, tight-lipped, betrayed by the redness of his eyes, the puffy skin beneath them. dark crescents. he sits by your bedside and looks a little like he wants to curl into a ball. 

”i’m sorry.”

and ah, you think; there it is. guilt. always, always clinging to him, a ghost haunting him wherever he goes. it’s been there since the beginning, in the scar reaching for his shoulder, the nature of his never-fading smile. guilt, guilt, guilt. you wonder if he's ever gone without it. you wonder if knights begin to crumble when they stop feeling ashamed. 

he looks sad.

with a breathless inhale, you part your lips. you want to tell him that he has nothing to apologize for, that you’re fine now — that you could never be mad at him. not really, never truly, never at him. you want to tell him that he’s your favorite person, not just your favorite knight, that he’s allowed to make mistakes without demanding that he suffer for them. 

you want to tell him that it’s okay, really. seriously.

but all that leaves your lips is a meek little sniffle. as the shock of it all finally settles, sinking deep into your bones, the fear of being captured, the dull ache of your skull meeting the ground. you can’t tell him any of the things you want to, and you feel so awful — 

because suguru’s face falls. like you just thrust a knife into his sternum and twisted it. he looks like he could cry, too.

”i’m sorry,” his voice cracks, right down the middle. like a broken vase. ”i’m so sorry.” it’s not at all what you want to hear, but you can’t tell him that either. he’s bundling you up before you know it, dragging you into the comfort of his chest, one large palm on the back of your head; tugging you closer still. he smells of soap and oak wood and peach blossoms. ”it was scary, wasn’t it?”

and you nod. into his neck, wet tears brushing against his skin. not stable enough to act tough. you don’t think he is, either.

suguru exhales, shaky, clutching you like he could lose you if he lets go. lose himself. he knows you’re scared, but you let him soothe you. it means something, he thinks. it means something that you let him come so close, closer than anyone’s ever been. so he swallows the guilt until it’s no longer clogging up the back of his throat, if only so his voice can flow out through the gap, give you the comfort you need. just rubbing your back until you calm down, apologizing silently — over and over again. manic, like the tick-tock of a clock.

until your voice breaks him out of it.

”it’s not your fault.”

he stiffens. still holding you, feeling your heartbeat settle down, hearing your voice break out of your throat. it comes out as a weak croak, with just the slightest hint of disapproval.

he gulps.

”don’t worry about me, right now,” he hushes you. a silent plea. ”i’m not the one who’s injured.”

”suguru —” you sigh, almost a hiss. ”i hit my head. once. that’s all.” you wipe away the wetness of your cheeks, biting back a sniffle. ”… you’re acting like i’m fucking dying. cut it out.”

(for once, he’s relieved to hear that sharp edge of your voice. it means you’re feeling better.)

a weak inhale. ”… they kidnapped you. it must’ve been terrifying. please, just…” and a tired exhale. ”please just don’t strain yourself.”

”it wasn’t your fault.”

…

”your highne —”

”i’m serious.” you’re pulling away, suddenly, clasping onto his cheeks with your tearstained palms. squishing his face together. ”it wasn’t your fault. it was mine.”

he shakes his head, eager to protest, so you squish his cheeks with more force, and shake his head for him. like a misbehaving dog. ”nope. if you even think about apologizing, i’ll start crying again.”

he lets out a huff. frowning, sadly, a downcast pair of eyes.

”don’t pout. i’ll bite you.”

it’s slight, barely even there at all — but you think the corner of his mouth twitches upwards, just by a hair, exhaling through his nose with just the slightest hint of amusement.

he places his palm over yours. 

a moment passes, slow and steady, both of you catching your breaths. calming down, letting the fear of it all seep out of your aching bones. you hope the warmth of your skin against his soothes him as much as it soothes you. 

”… you know, your highness,” he murmurs, softly. meeting your puffy eyes with his tired pools of amber gold. ”there’s something i never told you.”

you blink. he continues.

”just the night before the king reached out to me… i had a dream.” he musters a weak, exhausted little smile. ”dreams… i don’t have them very often. and when i do, they’re nothing good. but this dream…” 

his eyes flutter shut. a curtain closing, a raven taking flight, the tick-tock of a heartbeat. you can’t look away. ”it stuck out to me.”

silence.

your voice comes out soft, like the bedsheets beneath you, the man before you. a tiny breath of a question. ”… what was it about?”

he smiles. smoothing a thumb over your knuckle, reverent, as if memorizing every ridge and dip.

”a fox.”

…

”it had…” his hand slips from the small of your back, reaching for your cheek, pinching it gently. ”a cheeky smile.”

your skin heats up, beneath his touch. and you blink, not saying a word, because there isn’t any need to. all the words you could ever want have already been painted out.

(well, maybe not quite all.)

”suguru.” you lean close, just a little, drinking him in. and he listens, as always, so you don’t bother beating around the bush. swallowing any embarrassment your tired mind can still feel. because your knight is right in front of you, eyes still red from crying, and you want him to be happy. “i think you’re my favorite person.”

he stills.

then he’s burning up. 

”wha — where did that come from?” he stammers, a strawberry hue to his ears, his neck, the tips of his fingers. enveloping him like a blanket of warmth.

you only shrug. ”you told me the truth. figured i should return the favour, for once.” a giddy, exhausted smile. “we’re both awful liars, huh?”

suguru opens his mouth. then he closes it, again, desperate to collect himself. you think he must be a little too exhausted to, and you wish you could say you felt bad. ”you… you can’t just —”

he squeezes his eyes shut. sighing. giving up, the gears of his mind grinding to a halt. your grin blooms wider.

”hehe.” you poke at his flushed cheek, and he cracks a single eye open. ”you’re blushing.”

he huffs, leaning away from your touch, and you find yourself enjoying the reversal of your usual roles. very much so. he tries to smile, tries to get one up on you, but he only blushes a deeper shade of red once your words reach his ears. 

so he settles for using cheap tricks.

”you’re hallucinating,” he scoffs, shoving your head into the fluffy pillows all around you. ever so gently, listening to your muffled giggles. trying to stifle his own joy. ”go back to sleep.”

”my blushy knight,” you coo, and he drags the blanket over your head. biting down on his lip to stop himself from joining your bubbly laughter, blushing more than ever. 

(the word knight sounds very pretty, when it’s falling from your lips.)

”i swear,” he exhales, heavy and exasperated, but you can hear the smile in his voice. ”just what am i to do with you?”

it’s fond. delicate, even in his bouts of teasing, the light instances of manhandling. and you’re happy, because he’s not apologizing anymore, and he’s happy because you aren’t crying anymore. give and take. there’s a rhythm to it, a point where everything else becomes background noise, whether it’s memories of a kidnapping or a decade-old guilt.

he stays with you all night, even after you’ve fallen asleep. just watching you, safeguarding you, checking your pulse every now and then. content to watch as your chest rises and falls, with the tender ticking of your heartbeat.

that night, you dream of a kind, kind wolf, and a painting yet to be finished. 

before you lies a field of stars.

you’re seated on a blanket, with a pretty knight to your left, up on top of a grassy hill. daffodils bloom around you, sweet nectar hanging in the air, a field of sunflowers waving at you from below. dragonflies greet you with a scratchy song. 

everything is perfect. a midnight rendezvous, a picnic under the stars — suguru’s own idea. to celebrate the time that you’ve spent together.

(well, that part was your idea. but you’re sure he appreciates it, too.)

the basket next to you is filled with fruit and berries, marmalade and jam, bottles of herbal tea. suguru’s delicious sandwiches. you bite into one of them, humming happily, and he’s quick to brush the occasional crumb from the corner of your lip, ghosting over your skin with a smile.

there’s another basket, too, just in front of you, that you brought on your own. hiding a secret; one you're just about to unveil. 

you clear your throat to get his attention.

like clockwork, he’s looking at you. listening, when  you tell him to close his eyes, only giving you a questioning raise of his brow and an amused exhale. 

you’re quick to lean forward, uncovering the basket, revealing the secret you’ve hidden so well. suguru is still waiting, indulgent, patient. you feel a little hesitant, but still part your lips.

“… okay. you can open them, now.”

he does. instantly, two ravens taking flight, and the sight that awaits them is that of a painting; a painting of a wolf, in the middle of the woods, empty armors and wilted sunflowers all around it. dragonflies and dragonflies, a knight just out of view.

he stares, silently, and you do your best to hide your growing nervosity. even as he takes it into his lap, and your gaze falls to the blanket below you. ”it’s… not my best work, but —” his eyes stay glued onto the painting, as you stumble blindly for the right words to say. wringing your hands together, clutching at the fabric of your sleeves. ”i’d… like you to have it. i mean, unless you —”

”thank you.”

you raise your head.

suguru is gazing at the canvas with the softest pair of eyes you’ve ever seen. melting amber, crinkled at the edges, accompanied by a sweet grin. 

”i’ll treasure it,” he vows, meeting your eyes, voice dripping with warmth. hand on his heart, and you can’t even poke fun at it. ”always.”

his earnest acceptance is enough to fluster you, enough to make you feel as it your heart is about to collapse, but he continues to look at the painting with enough awe to fill an empty lake with water, and it makes you terribly shy. 

until his smile drops.

”uh, actually — i…”

now it’s your turn to stare, silently, as he fumbles with something in the basket at his feet. gentle, as he takes out glass jars and wrapped sandwiches. out comes a sheet of paper. 

then he’s clearing his throat. handing it to you, pointedly avoiding your gaze. ”i’m not an artist, so you know. i just…” he coughs, a little out of his element. “well. here.”

with delicate hands, you accept it, bringing it down to your lap. big, curious eyes taking it in.

it’s a sketch — made with coal, a little smudged, but awfully charming. pretty, delicate.

it’s a sketch of a fox.

wide-eyed, all you can do is stare. gaze flitting up to meet his own, his nervous expression, before falling back to the little canine. ”you — this…” back and forth, over and over again. ”for — ?” 

you point to yourself. 

suguru only chuckles. ”yes, it’s for you. who else?” he taps the pads of his fingers against the handle of the basket, watching you silently admire the mischievous fox. not saying anything; so he continues.

”like i said; i’m not an artist. you can always throw it away, if you’d —”

”i’m gonna frame it.”

…

”i'm gonna frame it,” you repeat, eyes shining with sincerity. a little manic. ”i’ll hang it on the wall of the castle hallway so everyone can see it. it’ll be there for centuries to come, passed down —”

”please don't —”

”d’you think a gold frame would fuck up the vibe? maybe a modest silver is best.” you turn to face him, ignoring his blatant embarrassment. ”oooh, hang on! father knows this guy who makes them with real minerals. i’ll just —”

”your highness,” the knight cuts you off, almost with a squeak. ”please. it’s just a dumb drawing. i just… wanted to give it to you. that’s all.”

a pause. you look into his eyes, flickering with hesitance, an earnest desire for your approval only. so you hum, albeit a little hesitant.

”… alright. if you say so. i’ll hang it in my room, then.”

he sighs; relieved. ”that’s better. really, you —”

”thank you.” you whisper, blinking away the wetness at your lash-line. staring at the sketch with a dreamy, dreamy smile. ”i love it.”

you grin, happily, practically beaming. suguru wants to keep it there, always, on those pretty lips; he wants to lay his life on the line to protect it. but something tells him that would just make it fall. 

finally, everything clicks into place. the air fills with the scent of herbal tea, fresh strawberries, acrylic paint and hushed whispers. your own ritual, repeated over and over, like a loving waltz. 

as always, it’s suguru who breaks the silence. shatters it with the tip of his tongue. 

”hey,” he calls, softly. “my lord.”

mouth full of bread, you simply look at him. chewing silently, attention piqued. swallowing with a gulp. he places his folded hands on his lap, exhaling a little breath. ”… i’ve been thinking.”

”uh oh.”

silently, he gives you one of those flat, unimpressed looks of his, and you quiet down with a grin and another mouthful of bread. he quirks a brow, exhaling amusedly, then shakes his head and continues.

”i retract my earlier statement.”

when you glance up again, he’s smiling. showing more teeth than usual, a little wider, a little wolfish. a little more himself. you want to paint it, keep it hidden away somewhere only you can see.

”if it was someone else — anyone else…” he trails off, tasting the words on his tongue. “i doubt i’d feel this way. i doubt i’d want to protect them as fervently.” his voice flows out like a river of gold, just a little scratchy. it always is, when it sounds this sincere. 

he meets your eyes, and everything falls into place. 

”you’ve become precious to me,” he admits. ”i can't remember what it felt like to not be yours.”

his tongue curls around a familiar set of syllables, and your name seeps from his lips like a prayer, a vow, a trickle of honey and wine. devotion sticks to his tongue, to the vowels, a heavy fondness — something devout. something you've only ever heard from the mouths of priests.

and then he’s smiling. 

”i think i’ll be your knight until the day i die,” he breathes, and deep down you know it’s a vow. “even if the king discards me of that title.”

silence. except for an increasingly loud mantra of tick-tocks, from the depths of your own chest, echoing in your ears. your knight is in front of you, and he’s yours, and he’s smiling like he loves you. like he always will.

”… suguru.”

he hums, eyes lidded, blinking slowly. serenely. he lets you cling to him, pull him close, practically dragging him into your lap.

”stay with me,” you plead, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. too desperate to feel embarrassed. ”forever. promise me.”

an exhale, right by your ear. it sounds so fond you could cry. 

“i promise,” he whispers, fingers intertwining with your own. a perfect puzzle piece, a functional clockwork. lifting your hand, bringing his glossy lips to your knuckle; where they belong. ”until death tears me away from you.”

”it won’t,” you deadpan, partly to distract him from the growing heat of your fingertips. mostly because it’s true. ”you won't let it.”

he smiles against your knuckle, breathing out an airy laugh. ”clever little thing…” his free hand goes to rest on your spine, as always, and you lean back to see him properly. knowing he’ll catch you if you fall.

“.. but yeah," he sighs. "i won’t.”

before you know it, you’re leaning back in. because his eyes are the warmest shade of brown you’ve ever seen, and his hair is just a little tousled, and he looks so kissable it aches.

his jaw trembles, a little, when you press your lips against the curve of it. his whole body seems to still, for a moment, and you pull back just to see if he’s blushing. he is. 

but he must have anticipated your teasing, because he’s tucking you under his chin before you can see it through. pressing you close. and he tuts, a click of his silver tongue. ”… you little tease,” comes a whisper. ”how am i supposed to hold back now?”

”don’t hold back, dummy,” you grin, muffled against the column of his throat. you just barely resist the urge to sink your teeth into the skin. ”you’re a bad actor, anyway. the worst.”

and he is. he’s been looking at your lips this whole time — he couldn’t be more obvious if he tried.

suguru laughs, breathy, overflowing with fondness. chest rumbling with the noise, blending together with the rhythmic thumping of his clockwork heart. ”okay,” comes a soft lull of his tongue. ”i won’t, then.”

a drowsy feeling overtakes you, just as you feel his lips meet the crown of your head. it’s not much, but it’s a start. and it’s tender, tender enough to get you choked up, to get you to close your eyes to stop any tears from forming. because one person in this kingdom understands you, and he tells you that he’ll never leave. and you think you can actually find it in you to believe him. 

one person’s clockwork heart never breaks for you, and maybe that’s enough to convince you to stop trying to push it there.

”you can sleep, if you’d like,” is whispered against your hair. soft, soothing, his palm on your spine. ”i’ve got you. always.”

(one person in this world can make you feel safe, with just four little words. and isn’t that something?)

so you doze off, on the shoulder of your very own knight. your favorite knight, always and forever, a sword at his hip that was forged to protect you. or so he’ll tell you, years from now, when he’s got you in his lap, when there isn’t any need for him to act anymore.

and you dream a perfect dream. a dream of a wolf, and a fox, and a garden of stars.

[isitovers]

Let me just start with saying that you're my comfort haylor writer. I love your fics soooooo much and they give me happiness on a different level. They're so easy to read and i often go to them. You're an incredible writer and I hope you pursue writting as a career but the selfish me wants you to never give up on haylor. This is so stupid that I'm stuck with a ship that's long dead but still feels alive, it's torture really. But there's not many writers who do haylor justice. I'm so glad I found your works because you capture them so beautifully.

Now I have a request. I'm pretty sure you're very busy in your life but I still want to make this request just in case. I love jealous harry and I'm dying to read something new from you. I don't care if it's 5k words or 50k words i just need something from you that features jealous Harry but not the toxic kind of jealous. Something like they're in a proper relationship or engaged or married whatever and harry gets jealous of some guy who's hitting on Tay idk. I miss them and I really want to read something new from you. You don't understand how addicted i am to your fics, it's unhealthy. But please i beg you never delete any of your fics please. A lot of writers do that and when I go back I can't find them and it hurts. I don't know what I'd do if someday I can't find any of yours. Hope I'm not very demanding. Hope you're doing good. And hope to read something from you soon IF possible. Okay bye!!!!!!

oh my gosh I can’t even begin to tell you how much this means to me!! when I first started writing (so long ago now!) I never imagined I would have such wonderful readers. I really just write what I’d like to read! and I can assure you there’s nothing that will convince me to let go of this ship ahfjdjsk

I know I keep saying this but I really do intend on posting again! I’m just still struggling with maintaining creative energy when I find real life so exhausting (to write or do something else creative for a living would be a dream I wish was more attainable) and I get stuck in a loop of feeling bad about my writing and lack thereof. but I love the concept of jealous harry and I know it would be so much fun to write! the fic I’ve been working on recently may end up having a bit of that in it, but it is very taylor centric and I haven’t entirely plotted it out yet so it’s also going to be a surprise for me ajdjdjsjk I’m really hoping I’ll be able to share it eventually! in the meantime I’m certainly not planning on deleting any of my works, not when I’ve put so much into creating them

thank you so so much for sending this, you’re so kind and I appreciate it so much! I promise you you’re not demanding - I love hearing ideas, so feel free to send any more you might have! I hope you’re doing well and you enjoy reading (and rereading!) 💖💕