THE WAY MY FRIENDS SIDE-EYED ME AS I HAD MY MINI BLUSH-FEST

Got another complaint so I’m just gonna post this for reblogging purposes. Feel free to use.

TWMTDW Ch 3 - Miles’ POV

summary: The events of the beginning pt 3, but Miles’ point of view (3rd person).

warnings: grief?

A/N: This was the thingy that I cut out of the last chapter because I had no idea where to fit it. So I made it it’s own supplementary thing!

Miles had left his lunch in the counselor’s office to sprint to the rooftop. Someone was playing jazz music next door; Ella Fitzgerald. He remembers the melody from somewhere, but the title is escaping him.

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𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 - 𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 𝐲𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

kugisaki nobara never really liked the sight of bullying, so it's no surprise that she stepped in to save the new kid

masterlist | previous , next !

–pairings: itadori yuuji x oc

– warning: fluff, canon divergent, pre-shibuya arc

– author’s note: gahhhh im so so sorry if nobara's really ooc, im still watching s1 of jjk and im absolutely open to anyone who's willing to correct me!

disclaimer: i’m not of japanese descent and am unfamiliar with japanese honorifics, etc. feel free to correct me!

The wind rustled through the mid-autumn leaves, the air cool and biting despite the sun’s bright light shining down. A little girl with short, messy hair sat underneath the leaves, a dark blue puff jacket wrapped around her red tracksuit — a uniform of her school, which kept her little body warm under the shade of the trees.

“Tsubame!”

The six-year-old’s head perked up at her name, her wide brown eyes looking towards the glass sliding door that separated the backyard from her quaint home. Her mother, as elegant as ever, donned a smart blouse and dress pants, and walked towards her child, holding her hand out to her daughter’s smaller, outstretched one.

“Come, we should leave now or you’ll be late,” Chizuru hummed, guiding her daughter out of the house.

“And it’s your first day of school, we don’t want to have a bad impression.”

“But Okaasan,” Her daughter mumbled, looking away in embarrassment, clutching her mother’s hand tighter.

“Isn’t it weird that I don’t look like a girl?”

Chizuru glanced down at her child in worry, seeing the quiet child attempting to hide her face further into her puffy jacket.

“Bame,” Chizuru smiled, squatting down to her daughter’s height. "How you look doesn't matter, as long as you stay true to yourself, and my darling daughter, you're so much more than what you believe you are. Just remember, Otousan and I love you very, very much. You're gonna make so many friends and they'll adore you just as much as we do, okay?"

Chizuru watched the way her daughter's head lifted in the slightest, hazel eyes filled with hope before it darted down again, Tsubame settling for a small nod at her mother's words.

"Now, give me a smile!" Chizuru chided, her fingers darting to the little girl's sides, wriggling as she pulled giddy laughter out of her little one.

"There we go! Now you're all ready to go!"

Tsubame smiled widely at her mother, Chizuru standing up to her full height as they walked hand-in-hand to the direction of the school.

"Now, you remember how to introduce yourself, right? Why don't you give it a shot?"

"Ok! My name is Shu Tadashi, and I'm six years old!" She grinned before a frown of confusion rested on her chubby cheeks. "Okaasan, it feels weird having two names."

Chizuru chuckled, a light pat landing on Tsubame's head.

"Don't worry, Bame, it's only temporary."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

“Looks like the new kid has it rough, Kugisaki-chan.”

A red-headed girl followed her classmate’s line of sight, spotting a little boy with messy, dark hair, and eyes screwed shut. A group of boys surrounded him, fingers jabbed in his direction as they laughed and jeered.

“What’s going on there?” Kugisaki’s face morphed into a frown, as her classmate shrugged.

“Beats me, but boys will be boys.”

Kugisaki let out an unsatisfied hum as the school’s bell rang, signifying the end of their lunch break. She watched as the largest, the leader — she assumed, of the ring of boys, gave the new kid a hard shove before walking back to their class, her glare trained in the older boys’ direction.

She’s not even a friend anyway.

“Hey,” Kugisaki called out, despite her classmate’s various calls of warning; both not to approach the group and to return to class.

“Tsk, what do you want, little girl?” The largest boy sneered, crossing his arms as his friends behind him snickered at the eight-year-old before them, their faces screaming — “Such an arrogant girl! He’ll teach her her place!”

“What’s your deal with Tiny over there?” She pointed to the poor boy who rubbed his head, flinching at the sight of the leader’s stare as his feet took him to his class faster than any of them anticipated.

“Oh him? Nah, he’s just a weakling, and he’s a real sissy. He’s just an annoyance, yabbering about ghosts,” He shrugged before his smirk returned. “Why? You got a problem?”

The redhead girl stared him dead in the eye, searching his soul for any remorse, but there was nothing to be found other than a disgusting form of pride he held over having more power than a boy smaller than him.

“Nah, no problem,” She brushed her shoulder off, walking away as the boy rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.”

As per usual, these were the famous last words of a poorly judged boy, as when 3:15 came around, he resumed his hobby of picking on the new kid, who sat peacefully in his quiet classroom, a piece of paper taking shape in his hands.

“What do you have there, yowai?” He sneered, finding enjoyment in the way his hands instantly darted behind his back to protect whatever he was hiding.

“N-Nothing. It’s not important,” Tadashi muttered, hazel eyes darting away guiltily.

“It’s definitely important if he’s hiding it!” His lackey chided, surprising the young boy from behind, and catching him off guard.

Instantly, the paper in his hands collapsed on the floor, revealing a dainty little crane. Before Tadashi could reach for the folded piece of paper, his bully nabbed it, pinching it between his fingers with a scrutinising glare.

“This for me?” The boy grinned, watching Tadashi’s lack of reaction before crushing it in his large palm.

He watched with amusement, seeing the dread that grew in his victim’s eyes, a laugh bursting out of his accomplice who simply held the new kid back, preventing him from approaching his creation.

“Oh well, you were too slow. Too bad!” He jeered, leaning closer to the new boy. “But that’s what you get for acting smarter than all of us. You think you’re so great ‘cuz you entered halfway through the year? Boo, hoo, hoo—“

“Oi!”

Tadashi’s line of view instantly darted to the doorway, seeing the red-headed girl from lunch standing with her arms crossed, a sneer on her features aimed at the large boy.

“Back away from the new kid, loser.”

“You again?” He frowned, turning to face the girl. “And who you callin’ a loser? You always get in trouble with the teacher anyway with how many times you were caught wrestling.”

“That should make you even more scared of me then!” She huffed, rolling up the sleeves of her red tracksuit.

“What are you gonna do? Hit me? You’re a girl, you’re wea— ACK!”

A punch across his jaw cut him off as Kugisaki’s fist collided with his face, the boy’s lackey watching with horror as his friend stumbled back on impact, and Tadashi could only watch in awe of the girl before him.

“Y-You!” The boy glared. “You dare hit me?!”

“Quit whining, you pansy!” Kugisaki hissed back, parking herself in front of Tadashi as his bully’s friend walked up to the girl with a threatening glare, although the redhead child wasn’t affected by it in the slightest.

“You’re a freak!” He hissed, jabbing a finger in Kugasaki’s face, her eyelids lowered in boredom. ”Just wait til the teacher hears about this.”

“Akemi-sensei?” Kugisaki questioned before a smile grew on her lips. “That’s too bad, ‘cuz she believes everything I say. What can I say? Being a cute kid has its perks.”

The older boys froze in confusion, bare of a comeback to insult the girl. Instead, they reluctantly sauntered out of the room, but not without the older boy hissing a threat in Kugisaki’s direction before he left.

“You’ll pay for this.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, keep up your blabbering and maybe then you’ll finally run out of things to say,” She huffed, slamming the classroom door shut behind her, but not without sending an insulting expression in the older boys’ way.

The girl let out a scoff, turning around to check on the boy, but all she was met with was a look of awe and wonderment as the small boy quickly bowed in respect.

“Thank you for helping me, Miss! My name is Shu Tadashi and I’m six years old and forever in your debt!”

“Woah there! No need to call me Miss, geez. You make me sound so old,” Kugisaki sighed, waving her hand dismissively as the small boy stood straight once again, a disgruntled mumble escaping the slightly older student.

“And my name’s Kugisaki Nobara, not Miss. I’m eight, so I’m not that much older than you.”

“Kugisaki-chan, thank you for your help then!” Tadashi nodded, pulling out the crane he had pocketed, despite its slightly crushed appearance.

“Please! Take this crane as a form of thanks!”

“I don’t need your thanks, Tadashi,” She sighed. “Just make sure you better keep your mouth shut if anything happens.”

“I can keep secrets! I’m super good at it!”

“Really? Fine then! Prove yourself.”

A silence fell upon the two, Tadashi’s posture stiff before he started to fidget, a sigh escaping him.

“If I do, can you promise to keep this between us?”

Kugisaki eyed the boy up and down, letting out a sigh before nodding, finding that the boy had nothing against her at all.

“Fine,” She shrugged. “Spill the beans, then.”

“Okay, well, my name’s Tadashi, but I’m not a boy! I’m actually a girl and my name’s Tsubame, although my mother doesn’t want me to tell anyone ‘cuz it can cause trouble, though I’m not sure what, but you hafta promise me—“

“Geez! Okay, I’ll keep your secret! You ramble too much, sheesh,” The red-head girl huffed, but regret washed over her as she saw the younger girl shy away ever so slightly.

“But uh, Tsubame, huh?” She questioned, watching the younger girl nod, eyes regaining their eager shine.

“I’ll call you Tsu-tsu. Hey, shouldn’t you be going home soon?”

“Oh no, my mama is picking me up later at four, my papa’s still at work until five!” Tsubame shook her head, recalling her parent’s work schedules. “So I’m gonna be here waiting until then!”

“Nonsense, come over to my place,” Nobara nonchalantly tucked her hands into her pockets. “I can get my parents to call yours and you can hang out with me while waiting.”

“No way, really?” Tsubame’s smile grew, Nobara smiling slightly before she cleared her throat.

“Yeah, totally. But on the condition that you tell me whenever jerks pick on you, and you call me Nobara. No need for honorifics or whatever, you don’t need to be formal with me.”

“Does this make us friends then?”

Kugisaki went silent for a while as she pushed the classroom’s door open. She’d never really opened up to anyone other than Saori, and the idea of having a new friend who she’d have to constantly watch over did make her wince… but who else did Tsubame have?

With a nod, she held out a thumbs up.

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Awesome!” Tsubame beamed, pulling the straps of her backpack over her shoulders while following her new friend out of the classroom, the two chatting along the way.

“Oh, by the way, I have another friend you’d have to meet.” 

“Another friend? Nobara you’re so cool!”

“I know I am. You don’t need to remind me.”

gif by @kakiriyo

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𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 - 𝐣𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

khaji-da mentioned something about the new girl 'drea' being dangerous, but what did she mean by 'dangerous'? and how dangerous could she be if she's best friends with his very own sister?

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– pairings: jaime reyes x oc

– warning: fluff, canon divergent, blue beetle movie spoilers

– author's note: more of a filler chapter haha. disclaimer: i don't speak Spanish, so please do correct me if i am wrong! read more under the cut! :)

A couple of weeks had passed since the Tlatilpas had come over to the Reyes household. Unfortunately, Anika (or as she asked Jaime to call her “Aunt Anika”) was the only one over as her wife Zara had been too exhausted from the drive to Palmera City.

As nice as their family was from what he gathered, Jaime couldn’t help but let what Khaji-Da told him that day weigh his mind down. He sat on his bed, laptop open on the plush bed sheet as he gnawed the end of his pencil, brows furrowed in thought and confusion.

What did she mean by ‘she’s dangerous’? Did Khaji mean Drea specifically? Or her entire family?

“This ‘Drea’ you worry about, she’s the dangerous one.”

Jaime rolled his eyes. Of course, the blue bug alien bonded to him and responded to him when everything was peaceful and quiet in his home.

“Okay, you’ve said that already, but a little specifics would be nice,” He shrugged sarcastically at the little robotic voice in his head. “I mean, dangerous how? Does she have connections to harmful people? She’s got machinery that can endanger us? What–”

“I scanned her DNA while you were shaking hands,” Khaji-Da cut Jaime off, the male glaring incredulously at the voice.

“First off, we need to set some boundaries, Khaji. You can’t keep scanning all these people without my acknowledgement. It’s creepy and overall weird. Second, how would that make her dangerous? She’s human too.”

“Incorrect.”

“What? You’re saying I’m wrong about scanning people being inappropriate–”

“She’s not one hundred per cent human,” Khaji-Da answered once more, this time, her answer left Jaime on edge. 

“She’s approximately fifty per cent alien.”

“Milagro! What’s up? How’s my favourite Reyes doin’?” Drea chuckled, her dark waves bouncing behind her in her high ponytail. The bracelets on her wrists ‘clinked’ together as she and the youngest Reyes high-fived, grins wide on their faces.

“¡Soy bien! You?”

The two shared a handshake, and despite their fast friendship, they got along well, like two peas in a pod.

“Meh, could be better,” She chuckled, rubbing her upper arm. “My Amma had a whole list of chores for me to do, so my arms are completely wiped out.”

“Ah man, I get you,” Milagro scoffed, nudging shoulders with her best friend. “Hey, you wanna come in? I’m sure we got something we could watch together.”

“Yeah, of course! Oh, by the way,” Milagro perked up, seeing Drea halt. “I almost forgot, Amma made some snacks a few days ago, so she asked me to bring some to you.”

It was then that Milagro realised that Drea was carrying a backpack and the Latina walked over to help hold the item up as Drea pulled out a little transparent container with a red twist-on lid.

“It’s more of a traditional snack from her home town? Country? One of those,” The older woman shrugged. “It’s called murukku, not sure if you’ve heard of it, but it’s one of my favourites. Vadai’s a close second.”

Milagro hummed at the spiral-looking snack, smiling kindly at her friend.

“Aw, look at you all soft for me! I’m gonna hide this in my room forever so that no one else in my family will ever take a bite,” She grinned before it fell. “Actually, better not. My mom is gonna kill me if she finds food in my room.”

“Oh, I know how that feels,” Drea chuckles, the two walking into the Reyes’ humble abode.

“Mom! Drea’s here!” Milagro called out, the woman smiling sweetly the moment Bianca entered her view.

“Hi, Mrs Reyes! Thanks for having me over,” She pulls her bag over one shoulder in slight nervousness, Bianca smiling widely at the girl.

“Oh, it’s no problem, Drea! It’s always wonderful to have a friend of Mili’s over!”

“Her mom made us snacks. No one touches it before I do, please,” Milagro huffed, placing the transparent container on the table as her mom eyed the snack curiously.

“Alright, mija, but there’s no controlling the rest of the family,” Bianca laughed, Milagro rolling her eyes with both love and annoyance as she led her friend towards her little room.

“Did you know I found a stray the other day? Surprisingly, both my moms let me keep him,” Drea whispered to Milagro, hoping to distract her.

“Oh seriously? What’d you name him?” Milagro looked over at Drea in slight surprise. 

“Sparky von Cocoa the First, but Sparky’s just for short.”

“I need pictures of him. ASAP.”

“Hey Mils, you hungry?” Drea glanced over at Milagro, seeing her friend lying beside her, stomach flat on the bed as her eyes were still glued to the computer, invested in the series the Latina was introduced to named “Never Have I Ever”.

“Uh… I could get a drink, do you want one?” Milagro raised her eyebrows, glancing up at Drea, who shook her head.

“Nah it’s fine, I can get it. You’re too invested to miss anything,” Drea teased, pushing herself up from her cross-legged position. “And I’ve already watched all the episodes up to date, so I’m good.”

“Wow, you do not have a life.”

“I know I don’t,” Drea chuckled, opening her best friend’s room door, and walking out into the corridor.

As soon as she turned around, she noticed that she was face to face with the other Reyes descendent, Jaime’s eyes widened in surprise to see the neighbour’s daughter standing in his home.

“Jaime, hi,” She flashed him a quick smile, and Jaime cleared his throat.

“Hey, uhm, Drea!” He held an awkward smile of his own, eyes guarded. “What’re you doing here? Is Milagro alright?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. Was gonna get us drinks.”

“Cool.”

Then silence hung over their heads, neither adult looking at the other before Drea crossed her arms, lifting her left arm to point her thumb in the direction of the kitchen.

“So uh, does Milagro have a specific drink she likes here? Or should I drop by the convenience store to get it?” She asked with genuine curiosity that Jaime almost believed that she was completely human.

Unlike what Khaji warned him about.

“We got uh… something in the fridge that she’ll like.” 

Jaime once again smiled, albeit he smiled flatly, heading out of the corridor, and into the dining area. Trailing him to get the drinks, Drea filled herself a cup of water, eyeing Jaime curiously as the male rushed around the area, as though he was looking for someone.

“How’s life?”

Jaime snapped up, humming before zoning back to her presence. He looked a little lost before he finally registered her question all while fidgeting slightly.

“It’s… life. Nothing much really. Job hunting, trying to keep things afloat,” He answered before heading towards the front door.

“Oh seriously? You’re looking for work too? That’s great,” Drea chimed, brushing off Jaime’s behaviour as nervousness. “Do you think it’d be fine if Milagro and I join you for the search?”

“I mean,” Jaime’s eyes darted to the door as he turned around to answer. “Mili and I were already working that out together but uh, yeah, you’re welcome to join.”

“Great, that’s… yeah, thanks,” Drea smiled gratefully back while Jaime nodded hurriedly.

A silence fell between them once more, Jaime tapping his wrist in urgency, yet he stayed in case there was more conversation she tried to start. Just to confirm, he spoke up, Drea keeping her glass away in the sink as she picked up another full glass of water for her friend in the room.

“Is there anything else you need to ask or…?”

“Ah, nope, I’m done,” Drea shook her head, her eyes widening in realisation of his situation. “Oh, shit, sorry for the hold up.”

Before she could say anything else, Jaime told her his response while walking out, the door slamming shut as she heard his voice ring out for the last time.

“You’re good, no worries!”

As soon as the front door was shut and he had walked out of view of anyone, Jaime sighed as his suit, unfortunately, burning his current clothes off, annoyance filling him. 

He had to speak to Khaji about that, there was no way he could keep buying new clothes for each week.

“I thought you would never leave.”

Speak of the Devil.

“Look, she was nice,” Jaime muttered, the helmet forming over his head. “And she’s Milagro’s friend, I can’t be not nice for no reason.”

“She is an alien. There is a reason to not be nice to her,” Khaji-Da responded with a know-it-all tone, Jaime rolling his eyes.

“That’s rich coming from you. Just tell Mama that I’ll be late for dinner.”

gif by @rob-pattinson

taglist: @mooncleaver

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DATING MILES MORALES AS A GIRLY GIRL | HC ❥

♡ pairings & aus: miles morales x fem!black!reader (this is HEAVILY black coded bookies, a little self-indulgent lmao) ♡ warnings: miles being a teeny bit of a watcher, him also being a lil' jealous, thats it? ♡ summary: what it's like to date our boy ♡ a/n: i love this boy sm y'all pls ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

when miles first saw you, he knew that he was smitten.

you were just perfect with your dark curls and your bright, glowy makeup...the dark pink lip gloss that shone against your gorgeous two-toned lips...yeah, he was done for.

he watched you for a while before mustering up the courage to even talk to you. he'd sit at lunch with a couple of his friends and as they would talk to him, he would be completely zoned out, too focused on the way you looked so pretty sitting at your lunch table with your friends, head drawn back as you laughed at someone's joke

he couldn't help but stare. you were pretty, and he knew this, but he was upset by the fact that other people knew it too. but he couldn't really be jealous because you weren't even his

...yet.

miles was determined to have you 100%.

but he never found the courage to talk to you. he would wake up in the mornings and convince himself he could do it, that he wouldn't embarrass himself, and then go to school and literally not say a word to you.

he knew it was getting bad when he'd ask mrs. morales to go to football games every single friday, no matter how far away they were. she just wanted her son to get out a little so she'd say yes, but little did she know, he was going for you.

you were a cheerleader, so miles would drive however far just to sit in the lop lefthand corner with his sketchbook cracked open, pencil dancing gently against the pages as he drew you in all types of positions-- smiling, cheering, touching your hair-- he'd draw you in any way he saw you move.

eventually, you picked up on the fact that you saw miles all the time, even when you weren't in school. but your own fantasies began to stir when you caught him staring at you one day as you got up to throw your lunch trash away

he was glancing at you, and he was doing it hard. so you shot him a sweet wave and smile, and he immediately shot you one back

he was cute. very cute. and you didn't even know him, but you started to develop a small crush on him

your passes through the hallways weren't by coincident. miles rerouted his entire way to get to each class just so he could see you for five seconds. but those five seconds were so enjoyable and made his heart melt, so he didn't even mind the extra walking

this went on for months. this man had filled up an entire sketchbook with your face, and he knew that he needed to do something because there were only a couple months left of school, and the only thing you guys have exchanged is a wave, a smile, and a spare pencil.

which, when you offered him the pencil in art class, he literally acted like it was his prized possession. it was a baby blue color with a light pink tip, and it actually smelled so much like you. he felt a little embarrassed by how happy he was about it, but he would find himself placing the item under his nose when he needed to focus on something

eventually, more months passed, and you were starting to think that he didn't really want you, he just liked looking at you. looking at your frilly skirts and pink sweaters, your chunky doc martens, your shiny black curls and your pearly dangling earrings. but your mind quickly changed when he came up to your locker one day, palms sweating and voice cracking as he finally spoke to you

"hi...um, y/n, is it?"

he played dumb, as if he hadn't been watching you for months. but you just went along with it and introduced yourself with a smile, and for a minute, he just stared at you and didn't say a word, until you gave him an inquisitive look.

"miles, everything alright?"

"s-sorry, yeah...i just wanted to, um..say hi?"

it honestly comes out like a question, but you giggle at his attempt to charm you

your conversation is short lived until days pass, and miles finds himself growing more and more comfortable about talking to you.

you even invited him over to your table for lunch, which utterly shocked him because the people you sat with were like...random

as in it was a random assortment. some jocks, some art friends, some musicians..

he was grinning from ear to ear when you invited him to come sit directly next to you. your thighs were touching his and he was freaking out inside because your skin was on his, and although it was subtle, he could still feel it and the contact made him happy.

he was infatuated with you. wherever you went he couldn't help but want to follow because your presence was so warm and welcoming

after what felt like years, he finally asked you for your phone number. he became full with greed-- seeing you at school wasn't even close to enough, he wanted to be talking to you or be with you at all times.

you obviously gave him your number by writing it on a pink sticky note, signing your name under it in cursive with a heart drawn at the end. he admired your handwriting, he's never seen someone write so beautiful, and he placed that sticky note in his journal that really was just a museum of you

anything you gave him he kept. gum wrappers, pencils, sticky notes, little trinkets and gifts-- he kept it ALL.

one night, he was up late texting you and literally grinning at his phone so very hard...he just loved talking to you.

miles: You awake?

you: mhm, can't sleep :( why are you still up?

miles: I dunno, can't sleep either I guess. Why are you up?

you: why not?

you replied to a message: and i'm up just thinking about stuff...my mind won't let me fall asleep :/

miles: I get that! I actually can't sleep either because of that reason

you: oh? whatcha thinking about?

miles: You.

his text honestly threw you for an entire loop and a half. he had finally said something to indicate your feelings for you, and you were literally geeking so hard about it

once he knew you felt the same way, your texting sessions became more frequent, and way longer. he eventually got a hold of your social medias and would check them so often it was borderline unhealthy

he snapped you throughout the day, never left you on opened or delivered without reason. unless it was for spider-man stuff...which, you had yet to know about until you both finally planned a picnic date.

you got all cute, hair done up and makeup flawless, clad in a flowy, long skirt and a white crop top with accented sleeves.

you were literally walking out of the front door until you got a text from miles, apologizing for the inconvenience that he wouldn’t be able to make it. you were so bummed out, you found a tear leaving your eye and you walked back to your room, disappointed.

miles was literally crumbled at the fact that he had to miss your date, your first one at that. so he wanted to make it up to you.

he quickly finished up his patrol work and threw himself back into his house, quickly saying hi to his mother before showering and getting dressed, spraying on cologne and grabbing his wallet and keys.

“mijo, where are you going?”

“out! te quiero, i’ll be back!”

mama rio obviously picked up on the fact that he was seeing a girl, but she just kept it to herself as miles flew out the door, running to the closest flower shop, and then apartment and knocking on the door. he expected you to answer, but your father did instead, causing him to literally shrink in his own skin as he said hello to him.

he was scared that your father didn’t know who he was until he said “you must be my daughter’s boyfriend!”

“oh— boyfriend? i-“

he was very quickly dragged inside your home. he conversed with your parents for a while as they welcomed him, and he eventually found himself at your room’s door with your flowers clasped in his palms, which were sweating with anxiety.

you told him to come in, and your sadness was lifted as he gave you a smile and a wave, handing you the flowers. and you were so ecstatic that you kissed his cheek, and he swore he almost died inside.

he took you to a rooftop and you had your picnic there, where he held you in his arms as you admired the night sky, until he pulled one of your curls behind your ear as you laid in his chest.

“y/n…can i…can i be your boyfriend?”

it was so random and unexpected, but you whispered to him with a smile,

“yes.”

tags!: @queenesther996 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @starhrtz // @daisydark // @randomhoex // @solanawrld // @whore4hobie // @tanakaslastbraincell // @simp4miguell // @nyrovi3 // @aziulsworld // @enchantingfoxsparkles // @mancerseedu // @cafehyunji // @personofyou // @mcdvsr // @calliarlerte // @pr0wlerpunk // @tzuyuzzs // @clearskiiiess // @vienreina // @pixqlsin // @stvrgrl // @zerosinterweb // @mookiebut // @urmotherswhor3 // @cumbermovels // @asmobeuses // @yanghees // @popeheywardssecretgf // @mxspiderman2099 // @scryarchives // @rksses // @mmst4rz // @ilyless // @milesmolasses // @laylasbunbunny // @all444miles // @thecoloredpages // @bl00dsuccker // @adoremvney // @anikaluv // @qtdenks // @art-598

how deep is your devotion? ; satoru gojo

synopsis; you’re his knight, and he’s your prince. if only it were that simple.

word count; 6.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, royalty au (..but no effort put into making it historically accurate in any way oops), knight!reader x prince!toru!!, childhood friends, mutual pining, fluffy overall, some hurt/comfort too, vague allusions to abuse (reader is punished by one of the castle maids as a child but it’s only really hinted at), knight!reader is horrendously devoted but prince!gojo is arguably worse, he would burn the world down if u asked nicely <3

a/n; big big BIG thank u to @softgirlgonehaywire for having the biggest brain in the world and infecting me w this concept <33 if u pay attention while reading u can tell the exact moment i started slowly spiraling into insanity

you are five years old when you meet the prince.

five years old, a mere child, and too young to be blinded by such brilliance. too young to be where you are; curled up in a dark alley, back against a grimy brick wall, covered in bruises. like a beaten dog — scrawny and afraid. waiting for a strike that never comes.

the boy in front of you is also five years old, but you don’t know that. something in him looks older, somehow, something in the way he carries himself. like he doesn’t have anything to be afraid of. like he’s never even felt fear. he parts his lips and speaks like he has the right to, like he’s comfortable in his own skin, a radiance so blinding you could mistake him for the sun. too much for you to bear.

”does it hurt?”

the words fall on deaf ears. but you flinch, your body reacts, a tremble down your tiny spine. you hear the sound but not the words. too mesmerized, too paralyzed, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes, painted with rich watercolour hues. seeping into the world around you like ink on paper, cobalt and aquamarine and something else, something you’ve never seen before —

a blue so jarring it makes you shiver.

the boy has an innocent face. almost girlish, plump cheeks and long lashes, clean clothes and smooth skin. a little too pretty to be out here, you think, in this part of town — too pure to be anywhere near someone like you. he’s above you, that much you can tell. a pretty, innocent face, untouched by dirt or ache; the face of royalty. an entirely different species.

there’s something keen in his eyes, a contrast to his childlike features. a sharp gaze, something that sees through you, something that won’t look away. something mildly frightening. enough to have you cowering in fear, hugging your knees closer to your chest.

but then he smiles. and it’s sincere. sweet, vibrant, all honey and milk and a world you cannot reach.

a smile so captivating you take his outstretched hand, and let him drag you away to god-knows-where.

(that's how it begins. the dynamic that’ll follow you into your adult lives; satoru takes the lead, and you follow. no matter where he’s going.)

satoru gojo, as you soon come to learn, is the prince of the nation you reside in. the only child of the royal family, born with talent and prestige, fame and fortune, set to become king. a different species, indeed.

but he brings you home with him, to a castle so grand you feel as if your very presence is an insult to the architects who designed it, and convinces his parents to let you stay. it’s surprising, but you don’t protest; following him like a puppy at his trail. and he’s stubborn, insistent, demanding that he get to keep said puppy. 

the king and queen don’t care one way or another. they glance at you with apathy, and tell satoru to do what he wants — but convincing the scary and displeased castle maids takes some work. 

satoru doesn’t waver, though. he holds your hand in his, and demands that you be treated with respect.

and he wins. he always wins.

that’s how you become the prince’s playmate. raised alongside him, allowed to stay close, eat from the same food. he won’t settle for anything less. defending your honour, always, before you even know what honour means. before you care.

time passes slowly. joyously. every day is a new adventure, as you attempt to get used to the miracle that is your new life — sweet and silky, apricot blossoms and fresh peaches, duvet pillows and a bubbly laughter you didn’t know you still had. he coaxes it out of you, with every secret midnight outing, every bout of mischief he drags you both into. 

satoru has nice hands, uncalloused palms, fingers that grasp yours and don’t let go. he takes you outside, to see the stars, to catch fireflies in the dark of night on top of the hill that oversees the castle. to take a dip in the river just below it, gleaming a silver hue under the blue shade of the moon. you worry about getting in trouble, but he reassures you — the prince can do what he wants.

that might be true, but you are no prince. not even close. satoru may safeguard you, but all you’ll ever be in the eyes of the world is a stray he got to keep.

and one time, only one time, you do face the repercussions of your midnight outings. you, and you alone. a bad influence — seething words, buzzing in your ears. an angry castle maid, and a stinging pain in your cheek. blurry tears. 

but that’s an incident no one in the castle dares to speak of.

(you’ll never forget that look in his eyes.)

satoru is an odd boy. he keeps you close, always, clinging to you like he needs you to breathe. you don’t understand why, but you’ve learned not to question him. the castle guards all know you as the prince’s best friend, and some part of you knows that’s all you’ll ever amount to. but you don’t mind.

because you love him. at five years old, six years old, seven and beyond, you love him. satoru gojo, the kindest boy in the stratosphere. 

a boy who keeps finding you, no matter where you are, who tugs you along as naturally as the rise of the sun. who raids kitchen cabinets with you and always makes you laugh, little giggles and chuckles that have him beaming proudly. a boy who cleans your wounds with a serious expression, and tells you that he’ll protect you forever. 

(you tell yourself the same. that you’ll protect him forever and ever, until you run out of air to breathe. a boy so sweet you’d die for him.)

a pledge is made. you make it before you know what a pledge is. pledging to protect him, to become his sword, because even as a child you understand that his life will be difficult. you see it in the dullness that sometimes comes over his eyes, the apathy of his so-called parents, the hours he spends locked up with nothing but a pile of dusty books to keep him company. 

so you decide to become his knight. his, and his alone. 

it’s challenging. but you push through; training with another aspiring knight, miles better than you, black hair tousled by the breeze as he knocks you off your feet for the thirtieth consecutive time. wincing as the girl who sometimes watches your sparring patches you up, soft hands cleaning your wounds so tenderly that you almost choke up.

and eventually, as the apricot blossoms of the castle orchard wilt and bloom over and over in a flurry of pure white, your dream comes true. 

there’s something playful in satoru’s eyes, when he places his blade on the curve of your shoulder. something sweet and fond, and just a little bit ironic — as if you’re still seven years old, and playing house. 

you want to tell him that it isn’t a joke. that you’re serious, about this, that you’d tear your stomach open to keep him safe. but you know he’d just laugh. so you let the words clog up your throat, honey-sweet devotion sticking to the walls of your esophagus. breathing in through your nose, as he speaks. as the words you’ve waited to hear flow from his glossy lips.

when all is said and done, satoru smiles. he calls you his little knight, and you can tell that he’s teasing you. indulging you, as if he’s in on some joke that you aren’t. but you’ll take what you can get.

you call him my prince, expecting him to laugh it off, but his smile begins to fall. and a pang of ache rushes through your soul, instantaneous, guilty, although you don’t understand why.

so you keep calling him satoru. even though it’s more than a little unprofessional, and you become painfully accustomed to receiving a few judgemental looks here and there. a knight and a prince shouldn’t be so very close, they think, and you don’t disagree. but there’s nothing they can do about it, anyhow.

the prince and his knight can do what they want.

not much changes. you’re his knight, but he treats you the same as before. he’s playful, a little goofy, and you indulge him. as always. attached at the hip, bickering and bantering, bouncing off each other effortlessly. and satoru never bothers to hide your history, the soft spot he has for you; it’s in every fleeting glance, soft tilt of his head, teasing call of ah, there’s my favorite knight. 

(you’re no stranger to jealous looks. sometimes a pout on the lips of a pretty girl, a crease between the brows of one of your fellow knights. and sometimes a glare, from his fiancée — a woman he was engaged to before he was old enough to speak.

but you don’t mind. you’ve never cared what anyone but satoru thinks of you.)

satoru never loses his smile, that effortless air of confidence. the charm that makes people want to follow him, a charisma you know well. one you fell victim to at five years of age. he’s still just a prince, far from being a king, but he receives the same respect.

and that keen, sharp glimmer in his eyes never quite goes away; the hardened shell around his heart unbroken. you see it in fleeting glances, during meetings, ones he allows you to attend despite your status. when he speaks to a room of people with more power than you can imagine, his voice unwavering. back straight. elegant, serious, the presence of royalty — enough to receive respect without even trying. 

but he still shoots you a smile, easygoing, when your eyes meet. one only you can see.

as for you, the step into knighthood is a clumsy one. but you take your duties seriously, and adjust properly. a deep devotion runs through your veins, from your beating heart down to the tips of your fingers, where a sword lies clutched. you keep it close, always, ready to serve. to obey. to protect. 

all of it for one person.

all you do is for him. duels in his honour, beasts slain for his peace of mind, and he’s always there to welcome you back. wiping the blood from your cheek, tenderly, smearing his untainted skin with red; all while he looks at you softly, a coo or word of praise waltzing on the tip of his tongue. 

that’s only for when you remain unscathed, though, when the blood on your cheek isn’t your own. when you get hurt, it’s different — something begins to brew inside his eyes, and you can’t tell what it is. but he insists on bandaging you himself, paying no mind to your meek protests.

sometimes, you’re more reckless than usual. your injuries worse. sometimes he looks upset, angry with you, and doesn’t speak. you don’t, either.

a strange look comes over his eyes, every now and then. when you get down on one knee, to kiss his hand, the metal of the ring on his finger — and if you look up, you’ll see it. simmering inside those blue depths, something just as fond as it is sad. troubled, you think.

(something tells you he’d kneel, too, if only you’d let him.)

the bond between you remains intact. even as you begin to shoulder more responsibilities, more duties, even though you don’t have as much freedom as you used to. even though you seem to get less time to spend with each other every single day. but you stay together, even so; just like when you were children, running around and causing trouble, more than you could get away with now. 

despite everything, satoru has grown up into a fine man. and you couldn't be prouder.

“do you think i look good in black? be honest.”

you throw him a glance. curious, somewhat perplexed, eyeing him up and down.

satoru is wearing a white blouse, puffy sleeves and a low neckline, showing off the skin of his bare chest. no black colours to be seen. you think back to that banquet he attended last month, forced into an expensively tailored black coat. a corset around his waist. and then you hum.

“sure you do.”

”suguru said it makes me look like a try-hard,” he scoffs, crossing his arms. tilting his head in your direction. ”do you think he’s jealous?”

”definitely.”

a moment passes. 

satoru narrow his eyes, and gives you a dubious look. clicking his tongue. ”… something tells me you aren’t taking this seriously.”

”i am,” you assure him, a lazy smile at your lips. meeting his gaze, that displeased little pout. still smoothing a brush down the mane of your horse, the smell of hay soothing your muddled senses. ”just tired. you look good in anything. you know that.”

he hums. silent, the sound of a spring breeze filling in the gaps.

it’s late. outside the stables, the world is engulfed by a dark sky, almost too murky to see anything. hazy stars glimmer in the distance, and a sense of fatigue gnaws at your bones. it’s been a long day, and yet you’re here — doing even more work. just a little more.

and satoru’s right there with you. even though he’s just sitting there, on the floor, not lifting a finger to help. not that he has to. insistent on spending some quality time with you, keeping you company. just talking and munching on the food he snuck in, bread and cheese and an expensive bottle of wine, that he leaves completely untouched. he tries to leave some of everything else for you, though. keyword being tries.

a sense of peace simmers in the air. palpable, almost enough to taste, as midnight air streams in from the opened doors, chilly and pleasant on your skin. ruffling the thin fabric of your clothing.

and it’s nice, you think, just to have satoru there — talking about this and that, complaining about all the annoying people he had to meet yesterday, yawning every now and then. nostalgic. like this, it almost feels like you're still kids. back when you spent every single hour of the day by each other’s side.

it’s been a long time since you got the chance to speak like this. satoru’s been busy, and so have you. more so than usual.

”are they running you ragged?” he suddenly asks, and you don’t realize you’ve spent the last minute staring into space. resuming your brushing, with steady hands, but turning your head to meet his gaze.

”need me to…” he makes a slicing motion with his hand, right over his throat. a glint of mischief in his eyes. ”handle it?”

and you scoff. amused, but answering him seriously; unsure if his question is all-together humorous, if it doesn’t carry a hint of something genuine too. ”of course not.”

there’s a weariness in the way you blink. the way you pet the animal in front of you, having finished getting the dirt and blood clots out of her mane. she lays down in her stall, and you smile. turning around to rest your back against the wooden border between you, a respite for your aching bones.

it gets just a little bit tiring, sometimes. fighting, patrolling, helping townsfolk. protecting the castle, making sure everything is in order. killing whatever needs to be killed. cleaning the stained silver of your sword.

but…

”it’s my duty,” you answer, seriously, and it comes out sounding like a vow. because it is. 

you avoid his gaze, but you can feel it, as you pick up the wine bottle by your feet and pop the cork. soft moonlight flits in from the windows, illuminating the green glass. a chartreuse glow that reminds you of fireflies, shimmering in your grasp, and for some reason it soothes your heart.

satoru only hums, far from approving. popping a piece of cheese into his mouth. 

after a brief pause, he continues. ”you don’t have to be so serious all the time, you know.” his voice comes out a little raspy. it’s got a certain tilt to it, one that means he wants you to take him seriously. ”not around me.”

you take a sip of the wine. expensive, blood red. it’s too sweet for your taste, heavy on your tongue.

”… i’m less serious with you than i am with others.”

satoru sits up a little straighter.

”yeah?” he grins, a kind of satisfaction blooming in his eyes. cerulean and sweet. almost smug, you think, like the cat that got the cream. ”that’s good. you really should loosen up, though.”

a glance. fleeting, just to see him — but he isn’t looking at you. he’s looking outside, through the opened window, at the sway of the apricot trees. white petals flitting in, landing by his feet. in his hair.

when his eyes meet yours, they’re smoothed over by that something you can never put your finger on. a blend between longing and fondness. crinkled at the edges.

”you’ve got a pretty smile,” he exhales. ”be a shame not to show it off.”

when you look at him, really look at him, you see it. that fatigue. it slips out when he talks to you, a sincere way of speaking that never quite allows him to hide his emotions. you hear the hint of a yawn, can practically feel the weight on his shoulders. the weight of an entire nation. a weight he was always bound to carry.

(you could never bring yourself to be even remotely alright with it.)

“have you been doing okay?” you ask, and satoru blinks. there’s a soft look in your eyes, as they trail over the contours of his face, his lashes catching the light of the stars. an innocent, pretty face. but he looks tired. frail. like he hasn’t been sleeping properly.

something rotten bubbles up inside your throat.

”they’re running you ragged, too,” you say, hand settling on your hip. where your sword usually is. unconsciously, on instinct — or maybe just to make him laugh. ”need me to step in?”

satoru chuckles. husky, mellow. dripping with soft amusement.

”settle down, little knight.”

a moment passes. silent. his eyes flutter shut, for a second, and a breath slips from his lips. almost a sigh. in the distance, you hear the quiet coo of an owl. 

”of course,” he eventually answers, opening his eyes. and you think he looks a little resigned. but smiling. self-deprecating, you think, although he’d like you to assume otherwise. ”all of it is just preparation, anyhow.” 

a flimsy smile, as he looks into your knowing eyes. ”it’s what i was born for, wasn’t it?”

you purse your lips.

“… i don’t think so.”

another chuckle. a little delighted, this time. 

“yeah,” he cranes his neck, emitting a low groan. “me neither.” something sweet blossoms in his eyes, sweet like the crunch of the apple he bites into, juice dribbling down his chin. ”but it is what it is.”

a beat. you part your lips, trying to find the right words. ”tell me if there's anything i can do,” you settle on. the same words you always choose. ”anything at all.”

satoru smiles. “right.” his voice carries a teasing tilt; almost a purr. ”there’s nothing you wouldn't do for me, hm?” 

“— there isn’t.” you smile. “nothing at all.”

he blinks. a little dazed, for a second, and you watch as his ears redden. slight, enough for you to notice, but gone before you can bring it up. a contemplation smooths over his features. and a pleasant breeze flits in, ruffling his hair, apricot petals kissing up his skin. he looks at the apple in his hands.

then he sighs. placing his palms on his knees, and rising to his feet. his arms twitch, muscular beneath the flimsy blouse, and you gulp. although you aren’t sure why.

“alright, then.” his eyes flicker in the dim light, sharp and decisive. he crosses over to you with long strides. “there is something you can do.”

when he’s close enough, satoru reaches out his hand; opening his palm. a silent beckoning. you look at him, not saying a word. his expression is unreadable. 

then you intertwine your fingers with his. unquestioningly, even in the midst of your confusion.

(it reminds you of that day. when he pulled you up to your feet, held your hand in his and refused to let go. leading you to the promise of something better.)

no matter where he goes, you follow.

and satoru grins. it’s sweet, just like back then, a smile so vibrant you wish you could tuck it into your sleeve and keep it there forever. he curls his fingers around yours, gentle, fondness bubbling up inside his eyes. for a second, you think you see the sun.

“come with me.”

at first, you truly aren’t sure where he’s going to take you. hand in hand, you begin to walk, feeling the midnight breeze nip at your skin. beyond the castle walls, away from the hustle and bustle of the nearby town. satoru holds your hand and smiles, tousled tufts of white hair swaying with the wind, leading you to a place you know well. a place where the air tastes like freedom.

it’s the river you used to play by as children.

gleaming a solemn silver under the evanescent moon, framed by bushes of lilacs, blooming indigo and violet and pure white. butterflies flutter about, almost glittering, blue wings settling down on the leaves. the scent of nectar hangs heavy in the air. on top of the hill just above you, you think you can spot tiny little glowing dots; green and yellow, buzzing around. dancing merrily, now that there aren’t any troublemaker children left to trap them.

satoru lets go of your hand, to roll up his sleeves. the hems of his pants. then he’s taking a step forward, dangerously close to the edge of the river, and you can tell what he’s thinking.

“ah — wait —“ you stumble forward, to grab hold of his arm. a worried crease forms between your brows. “that's dangerous, satoru. you could slip and fall.”

he turns to face you, a teasing mirth in his eyes. smirking lightly. “oh? is that so?” he hums, a slight tilt of his head. then he’s stepping closer, so close you feel his warm breath on your skin, but you will yourself not to step back. “wanna know what i think?”

he leans forward, just a little further, warm air brushing against the shell of your ear. flushing beneath it. his voice comes out low, a sleepy lilt, dangerously raspy. hand ghosting over your waist.

”i think you’re too scared to get in.”

you blink.

”… really?” you deadpan, stepping back a tad. satoru looks pleased with himself. awfully amused.

“really,” he purrs. “you were always like that. could barely dip your toes in without shivering.” he reaches out to pinch your cheek, a coo on the tip of his tongue. ”scaredy-cat.”

you raise your brow. unimpressed.

satoru steps back. inching closer to the river, until a quiet splash tells you that he’s standing in the water. lapping up his bare legs, not enough to even reach his knees — it felt a lot scarier when you were smaller. he’s still holding your hand, very loosely, fingertips ghosting your own. 

“c’mon,” he coaxes. soft, encouraging, a playful glimmer in his eyes. teeth catching the light of the moon. “or is it too much for my brave knight to handle?”

satoru laughs, when you furrow your brows, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks. a warmth spreads through your chest at the term of endearment, and you bite your lip. melting a little. 

his knight. his favourite knight.

“.. fine,” you tangle your fingers in his own. sighing deeply, taking a tentative step forward. “just be careful, okay? i don't want to deal with your whining if you hit your head.”

“ah, but you’d kiss it better, no? if i asked?” he flashes you a honeyed grin, eyes rich with amusement. you hope the darkness of the night is enough to hide the red of your ears.

a grumble buzzes in your throat, locked behind your pursed lips. something in your jaw goes tight.

the man in front of you softens. parting his glossy lips. he says your name; slowly, thoughtfully, as if savouring every syllable. dragging them out, speaking with a lilt that tells you he’s being sincere.

“— loosen up. it’s just you and me.”

so you do.

and it’s odd. how easy it is to get lost in him, the watercolour of his eyes, the brightness of his grin. how pliantly you let him whisk you away. before you know it, you’re playing in the water — because satoru splashed you, laughing at the shock on your face and the shiver of your spine, and you had no choice but to retaliate. 

the sound of his laughter fills the air, sweet and bubbly. deep and giddy. strands of hair stick to his wet skin, droplets running down his neck, but his grin never falters. bright and toothy, boyish. he looks younger than you ever remember him being. like there’s no weight on his shoulders, none at all, only soaked fabric weighing him down. a flimsy, see-through blouse.

you think it’s ridiculous. two grown adults, splashing each other like children. but his melodic giggles are contagious, and before you know it, you’re laughing too — and satoru looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. through dewy eyelashes, with cerulean eyes that melt into the pale blue of the moon and the silver of the river. filled with wonder.

a particularly ruthless splash knocks him off balance, and he has the instinct to reach for your arm; stumbling, slipping, dragging you down with him. you land on his chest, cheek against his neck, his pulse against your skin. erratic, joyous. fluttering happily.

his chest is heaving. lifting you up and down, a little, rhythmic and comforting. 

a sudden yelp slips past your lips, as you get snapped back into reality, into the realization that you basically just pushed your own prince into a river and used his unfairly soft chest as a cushion. a mumbled string of apologies escapes you, as you attempt to get up, scrambling to find footing.

but satoru wraps his arms around you. tucking you under his chin, keeping you flush against his chest. nice and still. 

and then he sighs. a blissful little breath, fatigue seeping out of him. into the air. 

“stay like this, for a bit,” he rasps. ”it’s okay.”

his heartbeat resounds in your ear. warm and rapid, like claps of thunder, coaxing you into closing your eyes. satoru has always felt so very safe. the water of the river is cold, seeping through the fabric of your clothing and sticking to your skin, but…

(he’s warm.)

silence. and then, a whisper; frail, slipping past his lips, gently slicing the silence in half. softer than you've ever heard him speak.

“i missed this.”

…

nuzzling into his neck, you breathe him in. he smells like sandalwood and dried roses, buzzing with warmth, heavy arms around your waist. solid. when did he get so big? you used to be taller. 

then again — that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?

“… me too.”

“missed you,” he continues, his jaw on top of your head. it’s a sincere confession; childlike in its innocence. “missed hearing you laugh like that. feels like it’s been so long.” 

you stay silent. unsure of what to say. satoru continues, and you let his husky voice carry you away, the tremor of his chest running through your entire body. soothing like a lullaby. 

”we haven't had much time together, lately. i’ve been worried,” he admits, and something about it strikes you as rather sheepish. a little ashamed. ”it bothers me that i can't be there to watch over you. make sure you're treated with respect, you know.”

a sleepy chuckle. muffled into his shoulder, almost a scoff — slightly exasperated. little droplets cling to his skin, sticking to your lips.

”relax, your majesty,” you tease. ”i promise the other knights aren’t bullying me.” 

satoru pouts. you can hear it, when he speaks. ”i’m serious,” he huffs, squeezing you lightly. ”and it’s not them i’m worried about. suguru’s there.”

another scoff threatens to escape your throat. you want to tell him the only knight that should be suspected of bullying you is suguru himself, but before you can even think to part your lips satoru’s beaten you to it.

”they all treat you so carelessly.” there’s something cold to his voice, an irritation tugging at his teeth. oddly seething. ”like you exist to serve them. like you’re disposable.” 

a moment passes, heavy with a silence so thick you don’t dare break it. when he speaks again, it’s an order. a demand. 

”i want you to tell me if they go too far.”

silence. again. you can do nothing but gnaw at the flesh of your bottom lip. 

(he isn’t wrong. but that’s simply what it means to be a knight — half-human, half-weapon. an unattainable ideal, stuffed inside a suit of armor.

when a weapon breaks under the force of a slash, the only choice is to throw it away. that much you know.)

”it’s fine. i’m not that fragile,” you weakly protest, but it’s not enough. satoru huffs.

”you’re a human being,” he reminds you. strangely stern, for once. chastising. ”you deserve to be treated with respect. knight or not. fragile or not.”

a deep inhale. he breathes in, and the rise of his chest carries you with it. his voice buzzes with something, a slumbering kind of fury. one you haven’t heard in years. 

“if anyone gives you trouble — if anyone hurts you… if anyone makes you feel unsafe,” he almost spits the words, like they’re venomous, sacrilegious. ”tell me. i’ll destroy them.”

silence. and then, a chuckle.

that’s all you can manage; that one meek little breath. resisting the urge to cower, at the love that clings to every word he speaks. angered affection. a promise, dangerously genuine, like a growing wildfire.

”i can take care of myself, satoru,” you remind him. hoping it’ll soothe him. ”you know that.”

but his grip around you only tightens. gentle, even still. as if you’re made of glass, a firefly cupped in his palms. he lets the silence linger, for a moment.

and then; 

“i’d do it, you know.”

a questioning hum. “do what?” you ask, though some part of you already knows. 

satoru’s reply is instantaneous. an arrow hitting its target, cold and concise, decisive. frighteningly honest. almost a growl, flattened, a hint of teeth behind his soft lips. ”destroy them. anyone.”

”i’d tear this nation apart if you asked me to.”

…

(ah. that look in his eyes — one you remember well. strung together with blurred memories, the sting of a palm on your cheek, a castle maid you never saw again.)

you search for the words. biting back a gulp, hesitant. “… i wouldn’t.”

“i know.” satoru yawns, breathing you in, voice shifting back into the softness you’re so used to. your shoulders relax. “but i would. if that’s what you wanted.”

and it’s a little scary, the depths of his devotion. but you’re almost certain you’d do the same for him. maybe you're both a little sick in the head, a little too eager to serve your hearts on a silver platter.

“it bothers me, you know.” satoru breaks you out of your thoughts. gentle, a soft lull of his tongue. ”when you get hurt. when you fight for me.”

“i know,” you murmur. you’ve seen it in his eyes, a worry he’s not as good at hiding as he thinks. ”i want to, though.”

“and i want you to be safe.” a chuckle bubbles up in his throat, just a little bit rueful. “you never listen, do you? so stubborn, i swear. always worrying me.”

you bite down on your lip. he sounds… a little sad.

“… sorry.”

a moment’s pause. then he shakes his head; cradling you close. “it’s fine. i’m here. always,” his palm runs down the small of your back. ”in case anything happens.”

he inhales. ”and when i become king —” a beat. he swallows thickly. ”you’ll never have to worry again. no one will be able to touch you.”

”satoru,” you crack a small smile. amused. raising a single eyebrow. ”i’m not worried. i can protect myself.”

”i know. but i’m saying you don’t have to.”

and then he’s pulling back. just a little bit, just enough to see you. cheek smushed against his chest, comfortable and soft, more unguarded than he’s seen you these past few months. it’s enough to get his heart racing.

enough to have him reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your hand, tangling your fingers together. bringing it to his glossy lips. a chaste kiss, brimming with unspoken murmurs of love.

”— i’ll protect you forever,” he vows. ”remember?”

there’s devotion in his eyes. heavy, a vow he’ll never quite be able to voice in full. something that makes the blue of his eyes glow even brighter, cerulean, aquamarine, a blue so jarring it makes your heart beat faster than it should.

you blink. starstruck, caught in a daze, lost within that sea of blue. distracted by his warm breath on your cold skin, the soft whisper voiced against your knuckle. something shy blossoms in your chest, enough to have you averting your gaze. 

“... you really don’t care about the dynamic here, do you?” is all you can reply. a meek scoff, a weak attempt at hiding how flustered you are. “i’m the knight. i’m your protector.”

“oh, i know.” a smile sticks to his lips, playful, the back of his hand caressing your cheek. a coo on his tongue. “my little hero. what would i ever do without you?”

a roll of your eyes. satoru chuckles. in the distance, you hear crickets chirping, a breeze rustling the lilac bushes all around you. he’s still cradling your cheek, smoothing over your wet skin, brushing a drop of water away with his thumb. clinging to your bottom eyelash.

“i don't get it, though.”

you blink. when you meet his eyes, satoru looks a little perplexed. muttering under his breath, absently rubbing circles over your cheekbone. you resist the urge to close your eyes again, biting back a blissful sigh.

”a prince shouldn’t care for his knight…” he repeats, like he’s heard the string of words a million times before. ”the idea of that. i don’t understand it. never have.”

the smile that blossoms on his lips is soft, indescribably so, as if he’s looking at the most precious thing in his life. rich and warm, like wine in your veins, nectar on your tongue, a chest pressed against your own. dripping with fondness.

satoru tilts his head, as if in confusion — but he’s smiling. “what’s so strange about wanting to protect the one dearest to my heart?” 

…

his hand slips from your skin, a warmth leaving your cheek. only to search for your hand, again, cradling it in his larger palm. placing it right over his chest, against the soaked material of his blouse. ”feel that?”

you do. a rhythmic rise and fall, a soft flutter from the depths of his ribcage. as if it’s itching to break out, out of the cage that binds it, the hardened shell around it. a heart too big for his body.

”it’s you,” satoru whispers. ”all for you.”

a moment passes.

silently, you lean forward; tucking yourself into his neck. into that comforting warmth, wet skin beginning to dry, the steady thrum of his heart right by your ear. you listen. not saying a word, afraid of what might leave the confines of your strangled throat. it feels as if your heart has begun to crawl upwards, sweet honey blocking your airways, and all you can do it feel it pulse. 

all while satoru gazes at you, fondly. placing a big palm on the back of your head.

fireflies dance in the distance. butterflies flutter about. strings of lilacs bloom under the glow of the moon. and satoru’s heartbeat never changes, never falls out of tune, a sound you would recognize even if the sky were to shatter, if the world were to end. the sound that saved you, the boy who dragged you out of hell. into his light. 

satoru gojo is everything. he’s the beat of your heart, the silver of your sword, the reason you believe in goodness. he’s your prince, your favorite person, and you’ll protect him until your very last breath. until the world runs out of oxygen.

a boy so sweet you’d die for him.

(a boy so sweet he wouldn’t want you to.)

a shiver runs down his spine — sudden, a shudder of his bones, and a quiet little sniffle. you feel it, hear it, and don’t attempt to bite back the fond smile that slips into the curve of your lips.

”c’mon,” you beckon, almost a coo, placing your palms on his chest to hoist yourself up. ”let’s go home.”

but satoru shakes his head. and then he traps you again, strong arms around your waist, pressing you against him. you could escape — you’re almost certain you’re stronger — but you don’t quite have the heart to. ”it’s fine,” he huffs. almost a whine. ”stay.”

”you’ll get sick.”

”i never get sick.”

a deep exhale. tumbling from your lips, just a little bit humorous. mostly exasperated. ”that can change,” you mumble, fingertips dancing along his exposed skin. absentmindedly.

a smile. one you can’t see, but you hear it clear as day. he sounds content, like he’s got everything he needs right in front of him. ”some things never change,” he informs you. pleased. ”just look at us.”

and he’s right. so you don’t say anything else. 

but your heartbeat quickens, only for a beat or two, and you’re almost certain he feels it. if he does, he opts not to tease you for once, and you’re grateful. and so the silence lingers. as if time has begun to freeze, into an eternal dusk, a string of silent seconds. broken only by low melodic chirping from the faraway fields, his soft breaths in your ear. 

until satoru suddenly chuckles.

“hey,” he hums, shifting a little, the river swaying around you. pulling back to meet your gaze, eyes crinkled and voice raspy. “wanna know a secret?”

you raise your head. a dubious look on your face, one that has him breathing out an amused puff of air, like you’re getting ready to hear a bad joke. “... what is it?”

before the words have fully left your throat, he’s resting his forehead against yours — breath fanning over your lips. a pleasant shiver trails down your spine, at the close proximity, goosebumps spreading across your chilled skin. only exacerbated by the whisper that follows, so quiet you almost don’t know if you heard him correctly. childlike in its sincerity. a sunlaced smile woven in between the vowels.

“i think i was born to meet you.”

(a sentiment so sweet you barely even feel the warmth of his lips meeting yours.)

previous post for context:

tldr: i need help making some choices, the link above is for their age

Jealousy, Jealousy.

Note: I tried Smth new w howl, pls pls lmk if u like it cuz I was half asleep as I typed this out (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

He's jealous.

It was only a quick pitt stop at the Wizard Pendragon's shop (one of Howl's many aliases) that set it all off.

A calm morning for the Pendragon's moving household was set to start and the shop needed a bit of upkeep as customers were running dry. So with the creaky floorboards all swept up and Calcifer warned to not misbehave, the clock-like magical device that hung next to the door signalled with a resounding ding and a switch in colour indicating where the castle had teleported to.

There was a long day ahead but you couldn't be more pleased.

As the hours went on Howl worked in rhythm with you as tinkering laughter was heard throughout the shop and bubbling mixtures were stirred harmoniously in cauldrons. There was a calm air to your love as he flitted around you with hands briefly coming to couch and maybe even teasingly squeeze at your hips as he passed.

"Pass me the dandelion leaves ?", He asked while focusing on the lilac fluid seeping from the side of the potion bottle he was pouring into.

You nodded with a kiss atop his freshly midnight-dyed hair - courtesy of sweet Sophie, you know she didn't mean it but you couldn't thank her more for the darkened charcoal colour that had seeped into his golden locks- and off to the ingredients section you went muttering past bottles of all sorts.

Coming back empty handed with no dandelion leaves in sight you let your eyes wander to his sprawled out form in the chair by the fire, Howl only looked up and smiled a bit disappointedly before getting to his feet and tugging on his boots.

You could already see long black feathers creeping out his cloak, predicting his speedy mode of transport for the errand.

"I'll be back in a moment sweetheart, not to worry. Markle will take care of everything."

Knowing full well the small child would've dosed off by now as he'd left to play in the fields while you both worked, you were left to manage the quaint store while Howl flew out for after a dizzying kiss goodbye and mumbles of bringing you wildflowers to carefully twist into your hair.

Then and only then did a customer decide to come in.

He was a polite young man, easily flustered and a soldier of the royal palace you noted due to the bluish uniform donning his slightly hunched physique.

He was nervous.

You grinned trying to ignore his demeanour so that maybe the pink in his cheeks would lessen.

"Ma'am, the queen has requested for a simple sleep draught from the makings of your shop.", He coughed, "please." came soon quickly after he'd recollected himself and pulling at the yellowed buttons holding his vest together.

You hid your smile behind the worn glove that your sweet partner had embroidered a pathetic attempt of a small daisy onto which you very much cherished, it felt like you were talking to a mouse rather than a fully grown man.

"Why of course."

The man...boy even, settled into a lone seat to watch you set up, eventually gaining courage to invite you into bubbly conversation that you found very boring very fast hence weren't all too interested in so short sugared-up answers were all he received.

The 'banter' he thought he was receiving on your end was honestly faked curiousity.

It seemed he was quite dim. Too dim for your liking.

His puny attempts to indirectly flirt were unoriginal and simply unwelcome.

Just as you were starting up your potion with another lame probe on the topic of the weather about to leave the man's mouth, your beloved hurriedly came in. Cheerily he was chattering on about a bird he'd been able to fly up close to in in his bird-like form.

"Oh, you should have seen it's-", Howl interrupted himself to stare at the man sat atop the brass stool across your apothecary tabletop, "feathers?"

His demeanor immediately switched.

Gone was the gentle, patient magician you were so accustomed to. There stood an intimidating wizard and he oddly felt much taller, much more powerful than a split second ago.

This was the Howl Pendragon you'd only ever heard about through word of mouth, not the one that childishly insisted to cuddle up on your ill-fitted couch or cast silly spells to jokingly make your hair stick up in different directions.

No. This was a whole different feel of a person and it seemed like the magic was almost spilling out of him in waves, you could almost taste it's electric crackling force in the air.

He felt more confident, cocky, ready to rip into this poor man down to his basic self-worth.

You liked it.

His lips twitched.

"Darling, who is this?"

Howl's voice was always deep and smooth as silk, just as it was right now, yet you were no fool and could pick up on the the roughened edges of his tone.

But it seemed like the young soldier took no notice of the emotional state of the suddenly very upset wizard in his presence. He only turning around to bow deeply in respect while stuttering out a greeting and an explanation of his presence.

Howl only had a curt nod to give as a reply and you could tell he wasn't very ecstatic have a new face in here.

If he could roll his eyes at the 'competition', they'd roll all the way to the back of his head to see his brain.

The next few minutes were tense as he only grinned tightly and came to your side to place a very domineering palm on your corseted waist pulling you in closer to his warm body, sending a clear message.

"I'm sure you've got this one little potion down love?", He said with his eyes sharply glancing to the young man that had very clearly receded back into his shell at this point.

Howl didn't even need to say a word, didn't even need to properly look at the guard for him to metaphorically back away. But of course he had to ensure he got his point across, so what else could he do but dip down to deeply kiss your lips, he was only seconds away from basically pushing his tounge into your mouth if you didn't stop his dramatic live-performance.

Nodding satisfied with himself, you huffed whispering 'show off' while he stepped back to tend to his dandelion-leaf-less potion.

You couldn't even look up at the barstool your customer sat on anymore with the intense blush covering your face and you could only imagine the agony of embarrassment he was going through.

With the potion sealed up and a-way-over-the-actual-price bag of coins thrown at the counter, he promptly escaped out the door not even bothering to check for any change.

Shrugging you turned back to glare at Howl who was innocently blinking into space.

"Was the last part really necessary."

He slowly smirked, tendrils of his magic swirling past your shoulders.

"Whatever do you mean?"

You quickly found yourself within his grasp, pressing kisses to your knuckles as an apology.

You knew he wasn't sorry at all.

Loud laughter could be heard from a distance as Calcifer moved the castle along to wherever your hearts desired.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

silly little doodle of a special little guy

NEVER HAD NOBODY AS SWEET AS YOU ♡

FEATURING: O.Yuuta + Fem!reader

♡ You're boyfriend is the sweetest person you've ever met, and you plan on showing him that!

CW: fluff, petnames, kissing, first time writing for yuuta

A/N: wow red's posting jjk stuff for ONCE?? also @saelique here's ur man <33

"♪ You said you love me exactly the way I am ♪"

"Yuuta?" He looked up at you, placing the book he was reading on the table beside him.

"Yes love?" Yuuta tilted his head to the side, lips curled upwards and the corners of his eyes crinkled as his easy gaze rested on your pretty face. You strolled over and planted yourself on his lap, giggling as a flush settled on his pale skin.

"What's wrong, yuuta?" You giggled, fingers sliding into his hair and carding themselves through the smooth, dark strands.

He blinked a few times, eyes wide and a flustered smile against his lips. Shifting yourself on his lap, you hummed and ran your fingers down the side of his face. "You're so pretty, y'know?" You sighed and gently planted your lips on his. You smiled into the kiss as you felt yuuta sputter and squeak. Pulling away, you playfully tapped his nose and giggled as yuuta stared up at you with his dark eyes.

"Pretty. My pretty boy." your lips trailed across his face, brushing his hair back and tugging him a little closer to you.

"D-darling...what are you doing?" Yuuta chuckled and placed his hand between your shoulder blades.

"Appreciating you." You hummed and kissed the tip of his nose.

"Why?" Gentle fingers brushed your hair behind you ears, smoothing down fly-aways.

You pulled away and pouted. "Is it a crime to?" Your lips curled up at your boyfriends laugh, warm breath brushing against your jaw as yuuta rested his chin in the crook of his neck.

"Of course not dear." He sighed and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. yuuta turned his head towards you, bringing his fingers up to gently press into the plush of your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" His words were so soft, and the love-sick gaze swirling in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

"You don't need to ask, y'know? It'll always be 'yes'." You giggled and sighed as his kissed you, eyes dropping shut as yuuta placed his hands right under your ribs.

Yuuta pulled away, bringing your hand up to his lips and peppering kisses along the bone. "I know, I just wanted to make sure."

..♡♡♡..

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