#gender neutral knight

[soulless-angel25]

Fluffy Feburary [2024], Day 18 Prompt- Pain @fluffyfebruary

Pain was a familiar thing to Amali, it was as much apart of them as the blood that flowed beneath their skin. They didn't remember what it was like to live without it, and so- when they and Loraine had become... friends? Suddenly the weight was lighter.

All of a sudden Amali had someone to bear the burden with, someone that would take care of them. And in return Amali took care of her.

And ever so slowly, through the passage of time, they found that they were beginning to fall in love. Once more they had a purpose other then protecting the Princess, and now, that is not to say that they did not take pride in this duty- for they did. But having someone they could lean on and who could understand their struggles...

Well, no one could hardly blame Amali could they? After all, anyone could see the bond between the two. As Loraine kept Amali fed and alive, and in return Amali gathered materials for her.

There was something so very soft in their relationship. Amali was a kind but hard soul who did what they thought was best to protect her sister the Princess. And Loraine was someone who despite how much she grumbled and complained about it, took care of people and kept them safe.

Both of them were protectors by nature, but both of them were desperate for something that no one else could understand. They were desperate for love.

And somehow, in their crazy world the two had fallen in love with each other. Neither quite brave enough to act on it till the new year came, and Amali was drunk. Inhabitations and nervousness thrown to the side as they pulled Loraine close to them.

As they tilted her head up, a smile on their face as they gazed down at the woman they loved. Even as they were surprised when Loraine pulled them down to kiss them.

With fireworks exploding above them and hidden from view by trees Amali could not help but fall even deeper in love, and nor could Loraine.

[theredhood-jasontodd]

Dick: Hey, Y/N, are you free on Friday? Like around eight?

Y/N: Yeah.

Dick: And you, Jason ?

Jason : Umm... yes?

Dick: Great! Because I'm not. You two go out without me. Enjoy your date!

Jason : Did he just-

[queruloustea]

i thought i'd do a quick sketch (plus notes) of the sillies as they appear in my fic! or, how i like to imagine they eventually end up, anyhow :]

i think this is more or less a draft, for now, but it's worth showing :]

[marshmallowdarling]

John Price got the letter early dawn, up just before the sun rises. A habit he and his boys can’t seem to shake after being at war for years, even if they had time to ‘relax’ now. 

John’s arm lazily wrapped around Kyle’s waist as he peers over the younger man’s shoulder to look at the recruit assessment forms with the sound of Simon’s cooking behind them, and the smell makes his mouth water. Food, actual food without the fear of living off rations around the corner, all of them had packed a few more pounds but John told them it was good, healthy weight covering their muscles and fuelling their bodies. 

A knock on the door breaks the soft morning atmosphere and all the men tense up, Johnny even pops his head in the doorframe from around the corner where he was still brushing his teeth. 

John pats Kyle’s waist and gives the others a soft reassuring nod before heading to the door, the others can hear soft muffled voices before John comes back with a letter in his hands and the boys can see the unmistakeable golden imperial seal, one they were all too familiar with. 

All of them had spent hours talking after finding out about the wedding, but a Knight couldn’t refuse an order and an agreement had been put in place after. Keep you safe even through their own emotions.

A few days and a multiple meetings later the boys are trying to tidy up the house, keeping their weapons that were strewn in every room in only a few now to not seem intimidating. The manor had originally came with help but John had let them all go, wanting his own privacy and knowing his boys wanted that too. 

John thought he had more time, way more time since the King hadn’t said anything about the actual wedding date or day or meeting you or your family…. But then you show up at their door with an imperial knight, your bags next to you and a letter in your hands with the golden imperial golden seal and John can tell it’s a marriage certificate without even opening it. 

He snaps into work-mode, his brain going a million miles per hour but his body nods to the Knight and opens the door wider for you to step inside, picking up your heavy luggage like its nothing to bring in after you as he kicks the door closed behind him. 

✮✮✮✮

It’s weird at first for everybody, obviously, but the boys get a big surprise. They had all brainstormed various of ideas on what you would be like, maybe a pompous spoilt brat, or scared out of your mind living with four blood-stained men, or maybe you would fight back and make their life hell but… 

You don’t care…. You *don’t* seem to care about their reputation. Your polite enough, only taking as much as you need, making little conversation but keeping to yourself, seeing that they already had a system. 

They had tried to keep their secret around you, they really did. Not wanting to make you seem like an outsider and not wanting to feel your judgement but all of them get restless. 

Simon was training most of the time with his balaclava on always even thought he had been finally working on letting himself relax a bit after being retired before you came along. 

Kyle was at work pulling more over time, training the recruits harder and before to try and get his frustrations of keeping his emotions at bay out. 

Johnny was at the local blacksmith, forging the same piece of metal over and over again while zoned out, hitting the same piece of hot metal with a cross peen hammer with all of his force. Feeling so pent up he was going to burst. 

And John Price, their ‘General’ who had always seemed to be so collected in every situation for all of them, is hit the worst. Wanting to stay around to make sure you were okay and settling in and he never thought he was a needy man but *Gods* did he seem to have taken for granted the small touches and praised words they all would share, especially since he saw how much it affected *his* boys and everything in him screamed at him to go make sure they were okay. 

Until the secret gets out when you walk into the kitchen late at night, having drank all of the water on your bedside table, to see John on top of Simon. Not having seen Simon’s face with his Balaclava half rolled up to only reveal his lips since it was dark with one a small candle lit. 

John rushes and stumbles over his words to try and say something but Simon stays silent, just wrapping his arms tighter around his captain’s waist almost possessively.  “It’s fine, I don’t know why you think I would care. I already knew.” You say so casually it wipes John out. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DID YOU GUYS LIKE IT?! I HAVE SO MUCH MORE TO SAY RAHHHHH AND I WILL FEED YOU MY RAMBLES IF YOU WANT!!!

Also this MIGHT turn into dark content later down the line so please be careful with my profile! Also its 1am, ignore any mistakes.

Tag list (omg look at me mom, ive made it) : @sheep-from-rad

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Moon Boys Sleeping Headcanons

Rating: PG •  Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged? • ko-fi •

Warnings: some fluffy fluff, mentions of reader, not beta read

Word count: 861

Steven:

I firmly believe that this man constantly moves in his sleep.

He’s rolling around all over the place.

One of those people that hold their arms/legs up in their sleep in the most uncomfortably looking positions. 

There has been more than one occasion where you wake up and see Steven sitting up in bed, fully asleep, and you have to coax him back into lying down.

He is taking up all of the space, then hardly any. 

He’s got all the covers and then none. 

Side and back sleeper, for sure. Loves to be the big or little spoon when going to bed and will twist himself into the most uncomfortable positions for himself if it means you're comfy. 

There is normally at least some part of him touching you, even if he is out of it. 

You have woken up to him holding your hand or your arm in his sleep. Or curled up into a ball and snuggled into your side. 

His feet are always warm, no matter how cold it is.

Delights in eating in bed, watching TV cuddling with you. (Will tell Marc he never eats in bed with a completely straight face.) 

Once he knows about Marc and doesn’t worry so much about sleepwalking he has the ability to fall asleep anywhere and anytime. Literally his eyes are closed and a second later it’s lights out. 

Mumbles in his sleep. It’s never actual words, just little sounds. You video him sometimes to show him in the morning. 

He laughs about it for ages. 

Remembers his dreams in vivid detail. 

Always wakes up with messy hair, no matter how hard he tries or what material his pillow is. 

Prefers to sleep in pyjamas even when it’s burning hot, because it doesn’t feel right otherwise.

Marc:

Back sleeper. Literally lays down like he’s going into his coffin, so stiff it should be uncomfortable. 

However if you’re in bed with him he will snuggle up and lay all over your chest and tummy, and please play with his hair while he goes to sleep. He needs it. 

Doesn’t talk in his sleep, but flinches and twitches. The movements are usually small, like a mini electric current runs through his nerves. 

Pulls a face at eating in bed, will get the handheld vacuum cleaner out and hoover the sheets. “Steven, why are there crumbs here?” 

“I don’t know mate, don’t ask me.” 

“They're those stupid seaweed chip things you eat, you’re the only one of us that eats them.”

“First, they're crisps Marc, say it with me crisps.”

“Steven-”

“Secondly, Jake eats them too.” 

“I know it was you Steven, you always eat in the bed-”

“I’m the only one who changes the bloody covers, aren’t I? I think I’ve earned it.”

“That’s not-”

“I changed the covers last week.” Jake chimes in. 

“You’re right, you did mate, sorry about that.” 

“No problem.” Jake gives him a mental thumbs up.

Marc is just like !!! Where is my apology for eating in the bed? !!!

However, if Marc wakes up before you he will bring you breakfast in bed and purposefully ignore Steven when he playfully calls him a hypocrite.

Sleeps in pyjamas if it’s cooler, but will also sleep naked if it’s hot. 

Falls asleep quickly and doesn’t remember his dreams at all. (He prefers it that way.)

Deep, but light sleeper. Goes into a deep sleep very quickly, but is awake and alert if something sounds ‘wrong’. You once stubbed your toe on the bathroom door and let out a little yelp and he was up and by your side before you’d even realised.

Likes to put lavender and eucalyptus sprays and oils on his pillow. 

Jake: 

Very good at sleeping sitting up and power naps, but prefers you to be laying on top of him if you're in bed. 

It makes him feel grounded to have your weight on him. If you’re happy to lay completely on him he is so content, it doesn’t matter what weight you are, he just loves wrapping his arms around you like you’re his own weighted blanket. 

You buy him a weighted blanket for a gift and he wraps himself up in it constantly. 

Often complains about the cold when sleeping, even when it’s hot his feet are still freezing. He has taken to always wearing socks in bed.

Which leads to a rather amusing sight in August when it is boiling hot, so he’s sleeping naked, but his feet are still covered in fluffy socks. 

He calls them his ‘sexy socks’, and has pairs in a variety of colours. He prefers ones that have loud patterns and colours. 

(I headcanon Jake as a kniter, so I think he would definitely make some for himself as well.) 

Doesn’t usually eat in bed, but does on occasion to affectionately annoy Marc. 

Remembers his dreams, and remembers Steven’s and Marc’s as well. 

Likes to dramatically push you into bed, and throw himself in after. 

Doesn’t move around a lot in the night, but occasionally talks. 

Never wakes up first if he can help it, usually stays asleep while Marc and Steven are up. 

Thank you for reading!

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[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

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 you to @/teddybeartoji for having the biggest brain in the galaxy and infecting me with this concept <33 if u pay attention while reading you 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.

“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 an unimpressed brow. 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 that makes 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.”

“… 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 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.)

[moonyflesh]

mood.

[sanguineterrain]

I am FERAL over your knight Jason thought. FERAL!!! Okay check this out: so Jason's ignoring reader because he feels guilty right? Maybe he tried to give them back but the king wouldn't allow it. But maybe the reader misunderstands and thinks they're not doing their "duties" so they make dinner and breakfast and wash his clothes and basically act like a perfect spouse. How would Jason react? 👀

Dear god... I feel another series coming on...

Idkidk, their dynamic is just really interesting to me! it's probably gonna be a bit of a slow burn here. Feel free to send more thoughts about them. I am rotating these two like a rotisserie chicken in my brain.

knight!jason todd x gn!reader. ambiguous time period but just assume it's olden times *gestures vaguely*. tw arranged marriage/forced relationship but it's complicated! jason is full of angst and self-loathing but he's a sweetie as per usual. original post for context.

****

The soldier—Jason—has said four words since you've arrived.

The first was "here," which he said whilst handing you a mug of milk. He didn't look at you as he said it, and that morning, he left for a five-day long station. You only know that because he said, after handing you the milk, "I've been stationed."

You realized it was five days when you heard his horse galloping towards the house... five days later.

You haven't initiated conversation because though you're a commoner, and no one ever had much hope for you to become anything but an old spinster, you know not to challenge knights.

But this is fucking ridiculous.

"Do you like veal?" you ask on your fourteenth day here.

Jason is about to leave, his boots half laced. He freezes at your question and looks up.

You stand tall, chin up. This is a normal question. A question a wife would ask her husband, except you're not a wife, and you're pretty sure this soldier isn't a husband either.

"I like veal," he says carefully, slowly. "Would you like me to fetch some from the market?"

Now, this is where it gets tricky. When the king summoned you, he made it clear that you were expected to care for Jason under his rules. You don't know how to navigate this world. You know what couples in your village do, but you don't know what's expected of you here.

"Actually, I..." Jason looks at you. His eyes are very green. He has a surprisingly sweet face under his helmet. "Actually, I was wondering if I could go. On my own."

"Oh."

You brace yourself for arguing or yelling. True, he hasn't raised his voice once, but he also hasn't said much at all. It's like living with a ghost.

"Yes, of course. Of course you can go." He fishes out a pouch of coins and gives them to you. You take it slowly, waiting for him to realize his mistake. He doesn't.

"Thank you," you say.

He nods and watches you walk.

"Wait."

You stop. Here it comes.

"There's a cargo ship in port today. The guards rotate at noon."

He leaves before you can form a thought. You hold the coins, watching blankly as the door shuts behind him. His horse whinnies, and then he's gone.

The market isn't far from the cottage. It's fantastic to be outside again. No one's noticed your absence, clearly, but that's alright. You've never expected more.

You buy a good cut of veal and potatoes and carrots and apples. Jason gave you more money than any cut of meat would cost, so surely he assumed you would buy other food. Why else would he give you so much?

A ship's horn drones in the distance. You're feeling some oranges when you remember his words. A cargo ship.

The sun is almost at its highest point.

"Oi! Either buy 'em or stop feelin' 'em!" the seller snaps.

You roll your eyes and move on from the orange stand. You can see the horizon of where the sky meets the sea from here. Any moment, the guards will change, and the ship will be...

You stop. Was Jason hinting at your escape?

No, he couldn't have been! That's preposterous. Why would he want you gone? The king took you for a reason.

And where would you go anyway? Once you leave, you'd be a criminal forever. You couldn't make a home on your own. And who knows what could happen in between? Pirates, enemy soldiers, anybody could snatch you up.

This must've been a test. A test to see if you would run. That's why he agreed to you going so easily.

No, your escape can't be planned now. Not when you're so obviously uncomfortable, and Jason knows it.

You ignore the ship and go home with your purchases. You spend the rest of the afternoon preparing veal stew. You warm leftover bread over the fire and set a pot of butter on the table.

Jason comes in louder than he has before, humming quietly. You perk up at the sound, happy for the lack of silence.

You set a bowl of stew at his chair and wait by the fire. As soon as he enters the kitchen, the humming stops.

"Welcome home," you say, wringing your hands. "I made supper."

Jason glances at the table, then back at you.

"You came back," he says.

"Why wouldn't I?" you ask, face neutral as you cut the bread into chunks.

"That—did the ship come?"

"Yes."

Jason sits. His face is dirty from training.

"I bought more than veal," you say, and hand him the pouch. "I hope that's alright. We—there were no more potatoes."

He takes the pouch, rubbing the string tied around the top. "You went to the marketplace... and came back."

It's not a question, but it sounds like there might be one behind it.

"Certainly," you say. "I'm loyal to you, Jason. I serve you."

He looks up, blinking rapidly. Then he looks back at his stew.

Oh, right. He's waiting for you to ask permission to sit.

"May I join you?" you ask.

Jason flinches. "You don't... you don't have to ask. I would never stop you from eating."

The words hang in the air. It's like neither one of you can speak right.

You watch him, and he watches you as you serve yourself and sit on the opposite side of the table. Jason takes the first bite, and you eat right after.

"Is the supper satisfactory? Have I done well?" you ask.

Jason stops chewing and sets his spoon down. You're struck by his shift in demeanor. You worry for a moment you've screwed up something as dim-wittingly simple as stew.

His eyes are sad as they fall on you. It's akin to grief, the pain he wears, but you don't know why he's grieving. You silently offer him more bread, pushing it toward him. He takes it.

"Yes," he says quietly and eats another spoonful. "You did. Thank you for supper."

Jason cleans his bowl three times. You have no stew leftover, which pleases you.

But as soon as Jason finishes eating, he gets up, rinses his bowl, and wordlessly leaves.

You don't see him for the rest of the night.

Somehow, you feel lonelier than when you weren't speaking.

[bloodykhaos]

Gifts and Fun Consequences

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x GN!Reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: A little bit of violence.

Summary: Playing a traitor hunter is not something your Queen is happy about.

══════════════════

The whole world around you was burning. Not literally. But, even in that aspect, it would not be long for it to happen as well. You had always liked to think you were a good person. Calm, kind, collected.

And you had been. For a while. Until Hightowers had decided to steal the throne. There was almost nothing from the old you in the new you. The betrayal had changed you. It was not even done to you, but it still felt like a knife had been buried in your back and twisted for good measure.

The feeling only had deepened when you had found out one of your closest friends had not shared the same views as you and his brother. Arryk's choice had cut you deep. As deep as your sword had cut him when he had tried to murder the Queen. And when he had not seen anything wrong with attacking Erryk in the process.

You'd found them battling in the Queen's sleeping chambers. It hadn't taken you long to put two and two together when you'd seen her terrified and curled up on the floor. Her features had been painted in colors you had never wanted to see.

Your sword out of its leather sheath had been the next thing you had known before you'd charged at Arryk when he'd knocked his brother down. You would never forget the look in his eyes.

The regret, the sorrow. But the readiness to end his brother's life had been there too. And it'd been the last thing to push you one step closer to dragging your sword through his stomach after he would not have listened to your pleas.

Nothing had been the same since that day. Since it had happened a week ago. Erryk had not been himself at all, but had never put the blame on you. And it was okay. You were blaming yourself for all three of you. There was enough guilt in you already.

That was why you did your best to mask the way emotions pulled at you. How they attempted to sneak their way into your head and lead to your demise.

Maybe that was why you had started making unwise decisions. Decisions that had seemed great and very well planned until you had taken action. It had not been the tactics of the war that had led you to those decisions.

It had been your anger at everyone and everything.

That was how you found yourself in this situation right now.

The clinking of the metal was bouncing off the stone walls as you walked with one hand over your sword and the other fisted in the hair of an unfortunate man. Unfortunate because he'd had the rare occasion of you making it your personal mission to find him.

He was not too smart, so it had not been a challenge at all. Taking candy out of a child's hand would be harder. You should have done this weeks ago when the Greens had decided to put their impostor on your Queen's throne.

A loud thud sounded throughout the big hall as you pushed the man to his knees. Your tight grip on the hair made him wince, his face scrunching up in pain before you let go of his head and stood a few steps in front of him.

Fixing your armor and making sure your sword was safely in its sheath, you cleared your throat while he stared up at you with a foolish smirk on his dirty face. "Is this what you truly fell into doing?" His head shook as it dropped loosely.

"Joining the unrightful, fake heir?" He spoke, seething out his words like a snake. "Betraying your King is disgusting to do even for you." He looked at you with displeasure written all over his face before he spat in front of your feet.

Taking a slow and deep breath, you looked up while pursing your lips. He really did not know when to stop. "Ah!" His head whipped as a strong punch was delivered to his face.

The air got knocked out of his lungs, causing his mouth to open as he blinked slowly. "I do not know what you are speaking of. I only know of the Queen Rhaenyra." Your stoic tone had nothing in common with the actions of your fist.

"I am not aware of what kind of people you acquaint yourself with, Cole—" Continuing, you raised one hand, clenching and unclenching it. "But I am not interested in joining."

Criston huffed. And huffed again. Before an airy chuckle turned into a laugh that you fought hard not to roll your eyes at. "You truly want to devote your life to serve that who-" The word could never be finished as your fist connected with his cheek once more.

"Oh, excuse me." Your face scrunched up in concern and confusion. Your upper body bent to get closer to his face. "Did you want to say something?" The question seemingly innocent held a huge warning behind itself.

If the way you said it was not enough, the look on your face should let him know you would not listen to insults thrown at the Queen.

His lips pursed as he looked at you with anger in his eyes. "You are pathetic." Almost spitting at you as he spoke, his nostrils flared. "You could have been a great knight, but instead, you are just her whore." His bitter tone made your lips pucker out for a second while you listened.

Your eyes went to the side and up while you slightly scrunched your eyebrows. But your gaze quickly found his again. Taking a step closer, you did not fear him doing anything. Even with his hands untied.

Lowering your upper body to the point your eye line was almost at the same level as his, you tilted your head. "I can be her whore." You said lowly. "I can be her slut." You added in a careless tone. "I can be whatever she wishes to call me."

The low volume of your voice only intensified the message you were giving. There were no threats, but he looked worried. "And I will still have more honor than you in your white cloak." You finished the sentence with a click of your tongue as you let out the last word.

Your burning gaze stayed on him as the silence embraced both of you. His eyes going between yours before his throat bopped.

"Ser Y/n!" You heard the only voice that could ever make you do whatever she wanted you to do. The only voice you followed the orders of. Sometimes not very well. Like this time.

You stood back to your full height while smiling at Criston. "What is the meaning of this?" You turned around just in time to see her confusion and irritation as she waved her hand.

"I have brought you a gift, Your Grace." Her head tilted at you as she squinted her eyes. You acted like nothing happened, back to your Queensguard-self. Back to behaving like a true knight on duty.

But she did not see you just as that anymore. She knew your true self. "A gift?" She repeated, unimpressed. "Is this the gift you are speaking of?" The annoyance in her tone was shining through as she gestured with her hand to Criston.

However, her eyes were glued to you. And they were not filled with happiness. "Yes, Your Grace." You stepped to the side, giving her a clear line of sight from the direction of where she was standing.

She glanced at the man before her eyes rolled as she sighed unhappily. Her hands holding onto her long dress. "And to what possible end would you bring him into the Dragonstone?" Her mouth was tense, the skin on her neck straining with each word she spoke.

"He had plenty of things to say, Your Grace." You informed her before moving your eyes to Criston. "Did you not?" The rhetorical question made the man look up at you as he avoided Rhaenyra's gaze.

He, however, stayed quiet. "Did you not?!"

"Yes!" You smiled to yourself satisfied when he finally responded after you had raised your voice.

His eyes dropping to the ground as he kept kneeling on the hard stone. Rhaenyra finally looked at him for longer than a second. Intrigue appeared on her features.

"What things?" Her words held some edge, opposite to the, now, calm demeanor. "Tell your Queen what things." You nodded at the man who would not raise his gaze above the floor.

You waited for him to speak as Rhaenyra looked at you with parted lips. Sucking in your bottom lip, you slightly shook your head before stretching your mouth into an unamused smile.

"Tell your Queen!" Your voice was so loud it bounced off the walls in the hall and caused the blonde woman to look at you with widened eyes.

"She's not my Queen!" He finally replied, trying to be loud but could barely be heard.

Your eyes found Rhaenyra, not believing in Criston's foolishness. "If she is not, then you are a traitor to the crown." You declared openly, your hands resting on the handle of your sword.

The Queen's gaze was roaming your face as you bit the corner of your lip from the inside. Standing on guard right next to the dark-haired man, your head was looking straight ahead at nothing in particular.

"It is not possible for me to be what you speak of when I believe in one, true King Aegon II." Your mouth ticked at his words. You had never liked him. Ever since he had joined the Kingsguards.

He represented nothing with himself. He was no real warrior. "What will you choose to do with me for speaking honestly, Ser Y/n?" Your eyes faltered at the mocking tone of your name as you could see from the corner how Rhaenyra's face changed into anger upon hearing it too.

Moving slowly and lowering your head to his, you watched as his ignorant grin widened. "The only person who can decide your fate is Queen Rhaenyra." The firmness of your words made the man blink.

"And you should be happy about it." Now, it was your turn to smirk at him. "Because I already have a lot of things planned for you in case she needs any help with deciding." Criston's face quickly dropped as he paled a little.

It made the corners of your mouth lift even higher as you stood straighter. At times, you could be perceived as insane. And it was perfect for torturing methods. Or situations like this where it did not hurt to scare and threaten unworthy people.

Criston knew what you were capable of. You were also sure he would not want to experience how far your cruelty could go.

"That is enough." The Queen's voice made you stand straighter again as you would not look away from Criston. You relished in the fear that was forming on his face. "Take him away to the dungeon."

Rhaenyra ordered two guards, gesturing with her head as her hands laid neatly at her front. "And you, Ser Y/n." Your posture formed to perfection as you stood with your chin up. "I will be waiting for the explanation in my chambers." Her words were sharp as you listened.

She would not look away from you for a longer while before shaking her head in irritation and walking away.

——

"Are you mad?!" She almost yelled out as soon as the doors closed, leaving only the two of you to privacy. "Have you not listened to what I said before?!" It would have to be the angriest you had ever seen her.

"I have, my Queen." There was nothing you could say or do that would make it better right now. She was already mad at you. Mad for ignoring her orders.

"Chasing after Cole alone? Only Daemon could be accused of such foolishness!" Her feet were taking her back and forth as she was pacing around the chambers.

Her hand was on her forehead as she rubbed it. "Cole is nothing close to a warrior, he could not be a challenge even at his best-" Her angry eyes found you quickly as you started speaking.

"It is not Cole I am worried about!" She cut you off sharply, her gaze piercing through yours as you sighed. "It is everyone else that could have seen you, kidnapped you, even taken your life!" Her voice kept getting louder and louder.

But you did not even flinch, you listened to everything she had to say. You took a half-step forward, reaching for her with your hand. "Rhaen, nothing happen-"

"That is no way to speak to your Queen!" Her teeth were clenched as she looked at you with wide, full-of-rage eyes.

You immediately stepped back to your previous spot. Hands going to your sides as you stood to your full height. Your head was unmoving as you stared blankly ahead.

"You disregarded my orders, left the Dragonstone without my permission at a convenient time when I could not have noticed your absence until recently." She started ranting and listing every single thing you had done. Every rule you had broken. "And most importantly, you could have died!"

Her wild eyes were going from one thing to another and another, trying to find anything that would occupy her head. She was leaning on the table, her arms spread widely as she breathed deeply.

You stayed silent. Your stance did not falter even for a second as she was composing herself. Her hand rubbing at her eyebrows before she turned around to you.

"Will you not say anything?!" She asked loudly, raising her hands and making them drop to her sides.

She tensed her entire mouth as she waited for you. "I apologize for my actions, Your Majesty, it will not happen again." You spoke softly, not letting your eyes wander to her. Not letting them connect with hers.

She huffed in irritation, turning her body around and running a hand through her hair before moving back to you. "Is that all you have to say?" She pursed her lips, her hand gesturing to you as its palm was pointed up.

When you did not reply, she started walking and stood right in front of you. She stared right into your eyes, going between them, as you did your best to avoid her gaze.

"Are you not going to embrace me?" Her tone was still firm, but you could sense the falter in her words.

"I am not allowed to-"

"Oh, for Gods' sake, Y/n." Her eyes rolled in frustration as she grabbed both of your hands and wrapped your arms around herself.

Your mouth twitched as a small smile threatened to break out on your lips when she pushed herself closer to you. "Do not dare to do this ever again." She spoke in your neck and you finally let a grin spread on your face as you tightened your arms around her.

"I was losing my mind worrying about you." One of your hands went up to her hair and softly caressed it as the metal of your armor clinked.

She huffed in annoyance at how stiff your movements were and pulled away while looking at your chest. "Take this off. I hate it when it gets in my way." You could not help the chuckle that passed your lips as you started getting rid of the armor.

"I do not think you like anything or anyone getting in your way, my dear." Her head tilted at your words, but you saw the hint of a smile that formed on her lips.

"I do not mind someone getting in my way." The chuckle only intensified as your head shook while she quickly raised her eyebrows at you. A playful smirk playing on her lips.

When you managed to put away all of the parts, she quickly stepped back into your personal space and sneaked her arms around your torso. "If you ever do that again, there will be serious consequences." Her breath was hitting your lips as she kept her head up to look at you.

Smirking at her, you embraced her with your strong arms before pulling her closer and ghosting your lips over hers. "It depends on what type of consequences we are speaking of." Your low voice had the woman glancing down at your lips as she dug her short nails into your back.

"Some of them proved to be quite tempting." You added, brushing her lips with yours. And it was all it took for her to connect them, fisting your shirt and pulling at it.

You did not waste any second and kissed her back instantly, hands lying flat on her back before one of them wandered lower. Her mouth opened when you squeezed her backside and you swiftly pushed your tongue inside.

Moans sounded through both of your throats before she pulled away to get some air. Your mouth did not wait for hers to come back as you attached it to her soft skin. Sucking and nibbling on her neck, you heard her sighs getting louder.

"To the bed." Her words were quiet, but you were used to that in this kind of situation as she was losing herself.

"I thought you wanted to speak." Teasing her with a smirk on your face, you earned yourself a hard glare when she grabbed your hair and pulled you away from her neck.

"Do not test my patience any longer today." Your smirk widened so much it could break your face as you smashed your lips against hers and started walking her back to the bed.

The anticipation was rising for both of you as you were getting drunk on how eager she was.

"As you wish, my Queen."

After all, there was something you could do to make it better.

══════════════════

[bamboobooshark]

MOON BOYS X READER

₊˚.⋆🕯️⋆⁺. KISSING PREFS : 421 WRDS

A/N : These are based off of personality and guess what? I’m finally writing romantic relationship content! Yay!!! I swear I’ve only been avoiding it because my brain is not the most knowledgeable on romantic relationships SPARE ME PLEASE

STEVEN GRANT .

Although Steven does enjoy the more passionate kisses you two share, he’s such a sucker for gentle kisses or even little pecks.

He’ll give you them anytime, anywhere.

Sometimes it’ll be a silent reminder that he loves you, that he’s here for you, he thinks you look nice, etc. This man will find any and every excuse to give you a soft kiss.

His favorite place to kiss is your nose; after he does, he’ll stare right at you with those big brown eyes and give you a gentle smile. Sometimes even nuzzle against your nose with his, or butt his forehead against yours.

MARC SPECTOR .

Marc will never deny a few minutes away from a crowd or away from his phone if it means you’ll share a loving, deep kiss with him.

He’ll kiss you in different positions almost every time you kiss. On his lap, laying under him, laying on him, sitting next to him, anything.

However he’s very fond of having you sit on his thighs or in his lap. He loves being close when you two kiss.

There won’t be a single time where he doesn’t wrap his arms up under yours to pull you flush against him. He might wrap his arms around your waist and have his hand rest on the small of your back so he can push you closer.

He will do anything you think of, or he thinks of himself, to make you invade his personal space to the furthest extent. It makes him feel like he’s protecting you and showing you all his love for you just with his lips.

JAKE .

Jake loves to give you hickeys and kiss you as a “surprise gift” while you do something.

His target is usually your neck or shoulders, but depending on how you’re sitting or standing, he won’t hesitate to give you a good, deep kiss.

As an example, if you’re cooking, he’ll do the generic move of wrapping his arms around you from behind.

If you’re reading, he’ll pull the book out of your hand or push your hands down so he can get to your face.

But… he loves to add his own touch.

He might tell you that you smell good, that he loves the way your skin feels against his lips, maybe even mutter something in Spanish too quiet for you to hear.

He can get a bit handsy as well, but nothing too suggestive. The most he’ll do when he gives you surprise kisses is squeeze your thighs, waist, or hips.

[jake-g-lockley]

City Lights (Steven Grant x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist

Warnings: mentions of Donna, Steven is too cute in this, I will swoon to death for that man A/N: So there was this boy, the best memories make the sharpest swords but I would like to turn any happy memory I have into something that you guys can enjoy. I love y'all <3 (P.s. Whatchu think of the lil collage I made ehehhehe)

Word Count: 1.4k

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn’t help the smile that graced your face as you stared longingly at the tall man in mismatched clothes who  stood hunched before a crying child. He kept a respectful distance but let the child cling onto his hand as the little boy sobbed for his mother. Steven Grant, the gift shoppist, produced a tiny plushie of Taweret from behind him. The hippo goddess seemed to bring the child a little peace as he started to sniff and rub his nose with the back of his hand. 

Steven tousled the child’s hair and started to tell him something. You didn’t need to hear what Steven was saying to know what he was telling the kid. As he knelt in front of the child, you were 100% sure he was telling him the story of the goddess Taweret as his hands started moving in animation. 

You averted your eyes just as you saw the kid’s mother hurrying towards him. Any longer and you would’ve either had two exploded ovaries or worse, you could’ve started drooling like a Saint Bernard all over the perfect polished floors of the museum. A few seconds later, you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. You turn to see big tired eyes boring into yours, perfectly glinting in the dim lighting. You couldn’t help but smile at them, forcing yourself to tear your own away from them before you get lost in the deep chocolate goodness. “Hey.” the British drawl wrapped around you like a warm blanket. “Hey.” you smiled, blinking up at him. “So, uh, we're still up for dinner today love, or…?” Steven scratched the back of his neck as he leaned towards you, a timid smile gracing his beautiful face. “Of course, Steven.” you quickly say as your hand pats his strangely strong bicep. Steven’s timid smile grew suddenly confident as he flashed you his pearly whites, and you were sure that you might just topple over from the force of it. Instead you give him a big smile back and squeeze his bicep, taking a step away. You guys were not going on a date, it was just the ordinary weekly dinner you had scheduled with Steven. You certainly didn’t look forward to the day, that's certainly why you didn’t check your phone about a hundred times to see what day it was over the past week. Your dinners with Steven were the best, it was so wonderful yet took so little effort. You both had found a little pizzeria down the road from the museum and it sold the most wonderful handcrafted pizza and had a great selection of wine (you were definitely a cocktail girl but you loved stealing wine from Steven). You gazed at the glow of the city lights as Steven chatted away about the stock issue that they were having in the museum. “I keep telling Donna that we don’t need to keep ordering the stupid sweets because the kids don’t actually like spending their penny on overpriced museum sweets anymore…love, am I boring you?” Steven suddenly said. You swore you turned bright red at his statement as you ripped your gaze away from the lights. “Steven! No, you’re not, I just got distracted. The lights, look! They look like fairy dust and everything seems so calm today.” You blabbered away and watch as a smile grew on Steven’s face. You frowned at Steven’s wine that he was swirling in his right hand. You bit your lip and when you looked back up at Steven’s face, you realised that he was already looking at you, his smile turning into a smug smirk. “I know you’re gonna ask for it, no matter how much you hate it.” he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You huff and reach out for the glass before bringing it up to your lips and taking a sip. Your eyes widened and Steven’s smirk became more pronounced. The wine you sipped tasted like no other. You had never tasted anything that went down so smooth before and you were weirdly delighted by it. “I asked for the more expensive kind today.” Steven said while he leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms and legs. “What's the occasion?” you asked curiously, raising your eyebrows as you carefully set the glass down on the table. “You’re right, today does seem a little more special.” Steven’s voice dropped an octave lower as his eyes now stared at the lights you were looking at moments ago. You rested your chin on the palms of your hands and stared longingly at Steven’s jaw and exposed neck. You wondered what it would be like to wake up in the morning with your face in his neck, breathing in his familiar comforting scent, legs entangled, your hands brushing his soft fluffy curls. You long to press soft kisses on his sharp jaw, you long to see marks blossom on the nape of his beautiful neck, but most importantly, you longed for his presence. 

As the night progressed, you too ordered a glass of wine as you didn’t want to keep stealing Steven’s. Your head was swimming happily and you had no thoughts or worries, the only thing running through your brain was how pretty the man in front of you was. You were intoxicated with how the light in the restaurant casted a glow on Steven that made him more ethereal than usual. You never knew how pretty someone could look like but you also knew that his kindness was the prettiest part of him. He was the most genuine person you knew and you were positive that he did not have a bad bone in his body. His heart was so pure that you just wanted to hold it, protect it. But Steven Grant was so perfect that he healed something of yours that he never broke. Now Steven and you were walking along the river Thames and trying not to giggle as you helped to steady each other. “Can’t believe you paid the bill when I thought you ran off to the bathroom.” You gently slapped his bicep and hiccuped. “I am a gentleman.” Steven tilted his chin up with a huff which made you giggle. Now what you didn’t notice was how hard Steven was straining to not kiss you silly as he watched you hang onto him like a baby koala. He had always wanted to kiss you, your beautiful smile the first thing that pops up in his head in the morning since the day that he met you. He tried to listen as you babbled away about your friend’s boyfriend issues but he was just intoxicated by the animated way your hands would move as you talked away without a fear of the world. Not too long later, you slumped on a bench and pulled Steven down with you. A strong breeze huffed through the air, which made you shiver and shift closer to Steven, which he didn’t mind. You turned to look at him and he was already looking at you, his face illuminated by the city lights and you thought he looked nothing more than an angel in disguise. In a moment of uninhibited courage, you suddenly leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Steven's lips, your heart pounding with both excitement and fear. To your surprise, Steven's response was not one of shock or hesitation, but of eager reciprocation, as he pulled you closer with a tenderness that took your breath away as you gasped into his mouth. His lips were so soft and you could taste the pizza and wine you just had as your hand rested and caressed his jaw. You pulled away and smiled the second Steven’s face came into view. He had a dopey smile on his face that made your heart skip a few beats as you searched his eyes. 

"What took us so long to do that?" you whispered, unable to tear my gaze away from his.

"Wanted to wait for the right time, my love" Steven murmured, his voice soft and tender as he rested his forehead against yours.

In that moment, amidst the quiet of the night and the wine-induced haze, you knew that kissing Steven was definitely the best decision you had ever made in your life. You sighed and kissed Steven’s cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder, admiring the city lights that blossomed along with your love for him. 

Tagging:

@fandxmslxt69 @randomnessfangirl @bodhisattva11 @marc-spectors-wife @nyotamalfoy @steven-grants-world @jbearre85 @whatsliferightnow @excitedcurtain864 @minigirl87 @wonderfulboiledcoldpotato @alexxavicry @autismsupermusicalassassin @flordelalunas @euphoricosmo @sky-robin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @violet-19999 @swiggy-needs-mental-help @ghostheartbeat @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @absolutelybloodyhopeless @mintpurplemnm @britishscum @spookyysilverr @bubblezuku @cookielovesbook-akie @mandoloriancookie @pimosworld @anonymously35 @nerdreader @vintagebunni @marylovesdilfs @jakelockleysdoll @pigeonmama @sarveshishwarishsuta

[theredhood-jasontodd]

Jason: I need to get something of my chest

Y/N: Is it your shirt? Please say yes

[moonknixght]

Steven Grant coded tweet

[marshmallowdarling]

Retired Knight! Simon is the last person to come around to the thought of you (surprise surprise). Because like these are his boys, who are you to come in and try and steal them away? 

Very much jealous and possessive and the other men eat that shit up! Wrapping his arm around his captains waist when you come into the room, throwing an arm around Johnny’s shoulder while he makes you all breakfast (because everyone needs to eat including you and even though he doesn’t like the idea of you he doesn’t hate you), pressing himself into Kyle’s back while Kyle washes the dishes. Just little things that silently say ‘he’s mine’. 

But again, he doesn’t hate you as much as he loathes the king throwing you into their home and in a way he pity’s you. Having to be a ‘spouse’ for their general who already has three boys at his side, a loveless marriage and having to be the ‘other person’. 

He watches you, at first he didn’t mean to. Habits from the army were hard to break and patrolling their home was a way to soothe his nerves and drain his energy so he wasn’t itching to do something, and he sees you trying to tend to the few animals John got as a present. Key word is ‘trying’ because bless your heart you have never really taken care of barn animals, seen then yes and touched one once or twice but actually tended to one? You thought you had an idea on how to take care of them but that gets thrown out of the window when you try but you don’t want to ask the boys because how hard is it? And you really want to prove you can be useful… 

So, he watches and watches. Watches as you try to haul some hay over to the horse and almost throw out your back. He watches as you try to carry a bucket that seems manageable, but you can barely even lift it an inch from the ground, waddling with it swinging everywhere and needing to set it on the ground for a few seconds after a few feet before trying again and then stopping and then trying again and then stopping and then trying-

And he watched with a raised brow from under his mask when he sees you happily feed the cows some melon, patting their short fur… until another cow’s big wet tongue laves over your hands, and another cows large tongue curls around your shirt- and by the end you’re a wet, sticky mess. 

After watching you for a while he decides he should try to help, not because he likes you but because everyone needs to start somewhere right? And watching you every day failing was painful but you did surprise him when each time you would get back up and dust yourself off…. Even when sometimes you had a little cry or swear before you got up, but you still got up and every time a hint of respect flashed in him. 

He gets to the small barn before you do, knowing your routine from watching you almost every day for a month. When you get there and are rightfully confused he doesn’t say anything for a bit before picking up one of the two buckets on the floor next to your feet, the one with most amount of stuff, before wordlessly showing you how to hold it properly and feed the cows. He doesn’t even ask you to do anything, just letting you stay near the second bucket and after a few minutes when you do get the hint he just gives you a little nod. 

Each day after starts like that, until Kyle realises what’s happening and comes around with a nice cuppa for the both of you while you work in the early mornings. 

But Simon still doesn’t like you, he just tolerates your presents. It’s what he says anyways when Kyle teases him about it while under him, but Simon just grunts and buries his feeling while putting the brat under him in his place. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ HOW DO WE LIKE?!?! I'm sorry for dropping but my family is going THROUGH it right now but here's a little peaky peak into my brain lmao

Tag List (omg mom look I made it); @sheep-from-rad , @aldis-nuts , @reap3erslov3 , @pasanau4

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Snuggles

Steven Grant x GN!Reader • Rating: PG •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist• ko-fi •

Summary: Steven can't sleep.

A/N: I'm being all sappy.

Warnings: fluffy fluff fluff, self-indulgent as HECK, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 610

Steven twisted around in the bed, the sheets wrapping around his left calf and ankle. He let out a humph of air and kicked himself free before he turned over again onto his other side and screwed his eyes shut. 

He gripped the pillow tight, his fingers paling under the force of it, his jaw clenched to the point of pain. 

Finally, the stabbing sensation in his molecules grew to a point where it became undeniable and at last his conscious mind seemed to register it. 

“Oh for fucks sake.” He sighed, opening his eyes and sitting up in bed. He rubbed his face with his hands, purposefully dragging the callus edges around his fingernails over his eyelids. 

It was useless. Pitiful even. 

He’d spent most of his life trying to avoid falling asleep, and now actually getting to sleep was practically impossible. 

It just wasn’t working. He was either too hot or too cold, the blankets too light and then too heavy. His arm went numb when he laid on his side, he felt like he was suffocating if he laid on his stomach and his shoulders ached if he tried to get comfortable on his back. 

Steven just couldn’t get to sleep without you next to him. 

He’d been so happy when you’d told him you were going out to spend some time with your friends to a late night cinema showing. He knew you didn’t get a lot of chances to see them all at once, as you had conflicting schedules. 

“Have a great time love!” He’d given you a kiss before you’d left, nuzzling your cheek.

You’d grinned, “Are you sure you don’t mind me coming back to yours after? It’ll be really late and I don’t want to wake you up-”

“Love,” he chuckled, reassuring you for what must have been the sixth time. “The flat’s closer and I sleep like a log, honestly. Besides, I’ll feel better waking up with you in the morning.”

He hadn’t realised that his body had decided to betray him and turn him into a liar. 

The sound of the key in the front door made him flinch, a brief flicker of panic overtaking before relief washed over him. 

You tiptoed in, illuminated by the glow of the hallway lights. 

Steven scrambled to the side and turned on the bedside lamp as you shut the door. 

It was your turn to jump. “Steven,” you smiled, “I thought you’d be asleep.”

He got up eagerly, putting on his slippers and padding over to you, “couldn’t sleep.” He gave you a soft shrug as he played with the sleeves of his pyjamas. “Missed you too much.” 

He hugged you gently, snuffling his face into your neck and breathing hard. 

“Awww,” you rubbed his back, quickly embracing him, “sweetheart.” You kissed his temple and Steven sighed happily. 

“Don’t reward me,” he mumbled into your skin. 

“What?” You laughed. 

Steven smiled as he moved back, just enough to look at you. “Don’t reward me, I’m being all pitiful and clingy.” He batted his eyes at you to make you laugh again. 

“You’re so silly.” You stroke his cheek and kiss him softly. “You’re not pitiful and clingy, you’re sweet and perfect.” 

He shook his head, pressing his face into your hand. 

You tut playfully, “Don’t deny it just because you want more praise.” 

He giggles and kisses your cheek. “Guess who’s been caught? Me.” 

You grin. 

After a quick trip to the bathroom and change you’re in bed with Steven, snuggled up tightly together in each other's embrace. Both of you safe and content. 

And asleep the second your heads hit the pillows. 

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho

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If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[brnesblogposts]

Moon boys when you’re on your period!

pairing(s) gn!reader x steven grant, gn!reader x marc spector

warnings just fluff and comfort. mentions of everything a period entails.

a/n i didn’t write for Jake purely because i don’t know spanish and it’s 2am, this took a lot longer than i thought it would and it would take even more time to translate words into spanish to write his pov, BUT if you do want me to do a jake pov let me know and i will! when you know- it’s not the middle of the night :)

Steven

Steven was awoken by you stirring in your sleep, he leaned over to check the time on his phone, 4:14am. He didn’t want to wake you, knowing full well someone shaking you awake when you’re having a nightmare is not a pleasant experience nor does it make it any less scary.

He decided to take a gentle approach, without touching you he just started saying your name in a gentle tone.

Y/n”

“Y/n wake up love, it’s me, steven.” He saw your eyes stirring and continued to softly speak. “Love, you’re okay, you’re safe” Your eyes fluttered open “Steven?” He gently caressed your arm “I think you were having a nightmare” You looked perplexed, as if you didn’t recall a nightmare. “I don’t think I- OW, UGH” You started wincing all of a sudden, Steven’s eyebrow raised “Y/N? What’s wrong?!” A trace of concern in his voice.

“CRAMPS” You screeched out while balling yourself into a fetal position and taking deep breathes, “I must of been stirring because o- of my cramps” You were squeezing your eyes shut in sheer pain. “I’ll get your water bottle!” Steven rushed to get to the kitchen, but before he swiftly got out of bed he made sure to give you a kiss on your temple. He kept looking back at you while he waited for the kettle to boil, making sure you were okay despite the tremendous pain he knew you were in. Steven wished he could take it away, he’d rather have cramps then see you like this.

Steven quickly filled the bottle, wrapped a tea towel around it and made sure to grab two painkillers and some water on his way back. “Here you go, my darling” He spoke with the upmost sympathy as he placed the water bottle on your abdomen. “Thank you, my perfect boy” You replied and watched a tint of red takeover his face. “Sit up a bit for me, yeah?” You obliged and sat up as best you could while not inducing anymore pain, Steven handed you the tablets and you plopped them in your mouth. He held the glass up to your lips for you as you downed them then ever so gently pressed a loving and soft kiss that said “I’ve got you”.

Steven climbed back into bed and rubbed your back for about 45 minutes as you both waited for the meds and heat pack to kick in, and for the pain to subside. He heard your deep breathes turn into content sighs and took that as a sign that the pain was gone or at least mostly to a point where it was bearable. He wrapped his arm around you and pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade, “I love you my darling, Y/n” And with that, he too drifted off into a peaceful sleep, still of course keeping an ear out for you, his person.

Marc

Marc was out getting a few food bits in, he’d left you on the sofa where you were reading a book. He wasn’t out ten minutes before he received s text. Can you buy me some pads pls? Off he went to the sanitary towel isle, little did he know just how many options there were. Between all the different brands, sizes, wings or no wings, he was out of his depth.

Which kind do you need, baby? He sent back to you, and within a few seconds you responded with a brand name and size, making his job a whole lot easier. He decided to cut his shopping trip short knowing you’d need these ASAP.

Marc arrived home and walked in to see you that you were nowhere to be seen, “IN HERE!” He followed the sound of your voice to find you in the bathroom. He handed off the pads and decided to surprise you, while you cleaned yourself up in which he had noticed you decided to go for a shower. Marc made you a hot water bottle, a cup of tea and was currently making you a plate of your favourite treats. He set them on a tray on the bed just as you stepped out the bathroom.

“Baby, how are you feeling?” His eyes showed how deeply he meant that, wanting to do everything he could to make you feel comfortable. “My cramps aren’t too bad yet, I have a little headache coming on and am craving sugar.” He could tell you were trying to downplay it, not wanting him to be too worried about you, he could see through you though.

“Oh Marc this is perfect!” You said as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, “I was just about to say I feel like today is a bed day” You smiled, his favourite smile. He helped you settle into the bed, making sure your pillows were fluffed to your liking and set the tray over your lap and the water bottle on your abdomen. As he went to sit on the sofa you called after him “Baby? Can you stay with me? I just want to be with you” He didn’t hesitate a second and was next to you, feeding you grapes quite literally.

After a few minutes he noticed you tearing up “Marc, my sweet, perfect, most handsome boyfriend. What did I do to deserve you?” By this point tears started streaming down your cheeks. “You’re just so perfect, always making sure I feel loved and seen, listening to me ramble about things I know you don’t care about or when I come home from work and I’m in a bad mood you give me my space and don’t question it if I snap at you. I really don’t deserve you” You were in hysterics. Marc looked at you, upset that you’d ever question if you deserved him. Of course you did, you were the most amazing person he’d ever met, the most accepting, loving, caring person. You made sure him and his alters felt safe and if he was having a nightmare you were there to pull him out of it and calm him down.

He kissed your tear stained cheeks, no words spoken but the actions spoke louder, telling you that you did deserve him. Nothing was going to change that. He wrapped his arms around you and you tucked your head into his neck, after a couple minutes you’d seemed to calm down but he still held you, not letting go. Not until you wanted him to. Another 10 minutes passed and you still hadn’t peeled away, and that’s when he noticed you were asleep. Your eyelashes resting softly and your mouth parted. He kissed the top of your head and held you and never let go.