#navs.hq

[mianavs]

Love You The Same

pairing: Bokuto x f!reader x Akaashi

tags: royalty au, arranged marriage, cultural differences, corruption, loss of virginity, voyeurism, anal sex, degradation and praise, oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, ass play, double penetration, breeding

note: my piece for @xmyshya's "Three" collab. i'm back on my GoT bullshit so this was inspired by it (the settings especially). all explicit content below the cut

words: 5k

The last winter he spent in his homeland had been a cruel one. So cruel it mirrored his own short life, plagued with tragedies braver men had fallen victim to. He liked to believe himself stronger and wiser than those men, but deep down he knew it had merely been tenacity mixed in with luck that allowed him to remain alive for those fifteen years.

And it had been that same luck that had led him to the only person in his homeland that had ever shown him kindness–the Princess of Shira.

She had been the one that stepped out of the silver horse-drawn carriage, bundled up in furs, and spared his life with an indignant cry and flushed face. Such had been his shock at the kind display from a royal family member, that he had forgotten to avert his gaze when she offered him her gloved hand with a kind smile. In that moment with the princess in front of him, the growling protests from her guard hadn't reached his ears and the biting cold of the snow hadn’t burned his skin. All of his senses were assaulted by the kind-hearted girl before him that he could have sworn was heaven-sent.

“Are you alright?” She had asked, a cloud of warm breath slipping from her lips.

Her lilting voice had been the one to break his trance and he found himself nodding to her question before he had even found his own voice.

“I am now.”

The boy named Keiji would never forget the expression on the princess’s face after uttering those words. The way her eyes widened ever-so-slightly, supple mouth parted with a gasp, and cheeks flushed an even darker shade of red the longer he shamelessly admired her. It was a memory Keiji kept near and dear to his heart. It warmed him during the harsh trek south to the Kingdom of Fuku and pushed him to work hard and gain the crown prince’s love and favor years later.

And when all of Keiji’s hard work, tenacity, and luck led to the newly crowned King Kotarou asking who he should take for a wife as he littered love marks on his chest, Keiji drew his King and savior into an embrace and whispered his answer.

“Princess Y/N of Shira”

As the sole princess of Shira, it was your duty to marry for the good of your kingdom. It was simply a fact of life that had been ingrained into you from a young age. That and the legends of love, some of which were as old as the kingdom itself.

You grew up listening to the songs sung by minstrels that spoke of courtly love between noble ladies and gallant knights and knew all of the legendary love stories that women of all backgrounds shared while gathered around a hearth with a needle and cloth in hand. You lived and breathed tales of love, but your hope for a love-filled marriage ended when a couple of bad harvests depleted your winter stores and devastated the population.

So when a marriage proposal came from the South and offered to fill your winter stores and feed your starving people, you readily accepted despite the rumors that surrounded King Koutarou of Fuku. You could tell it pained your brother, King Wakatoshi, to sell off his beloved little sister to the highest bidder, but just as he had been raised to lead Shira to prosperity, you had been raised to support him in every way, even if it meant giving up on your dreams. It was with a tear-stained face but determined heart that you left your snowy homeland for the warm exotic kingdom of Fuku where your new life would begin.

You had resigned yourself to a loveless marriage with a King renowned for his harem, but that all changed when you met a gorgeous man with a set of stormy blue eyes that you recognized but couldn’t remember from where. He introduced himself as Keiji Akaashi, Fuku’s Chancellor, and claimed to have been sent by the King to escort you to the palace.

While the rest of his retinue treated you like an outsider, Akaashi spent most of his time by your side, helping you adjust to your new life with a kind smile and warm words. He eagerly answered all of your questions no matter how insignificant they were. He introduced you to new foods, customs, words, and concepts, explaining each one with the patience of a saint. When he addressed the rumors about King Koutarou, he separated the fact from fiction and reassured your worries about your new life by his side.

“The King has enough space in his heart for you and his harem.” He had promised during a quick stroll through the grassy plains of the country. “But as his queen, you will always be special… for him and me.”

That day was the first time you thought you could love the chancellor that spoke words as beautiful as his person. You sought him out even more afterward to feed your budding love for him, and if he was aware of your feelings for him, Akaashi did nothing to stop them. In fact, he encouraged them with his lingering longing looks, soft smiles, and tender touches over your wrists, waist, and face.

The night that he rode ahead to the palace on urgent business, he confessed to being that boy you met on the side of the road the night your parents passed away. Overwhelmed by his revelation, you acted on your ardent love for him and pressed a kiss to his lips. A kiss that he returned tenfold by pressing you against him and devouring your mouth like a starved man.

“We’ll be together in the palace, I promise.” He had said after breaking off the kiss and regaining his breath.

“H-how can you be so sure?” You had countered with tears welling up in your eyes.

“The King also has me in his heart,” He had admitted, and after hearing all about the infamous King, you knew exactly what he meant. “He would do anything for me and you, his future Queen.”

That night you didn’t sleep, thinking about what awaited you in that palace of mystery where everything you knew of marriage didn’t apply. You thought about Akaashi’s revelations of being that boy with the alluring eyes and King Koutarou’s lover.

Could he truly love the two of you?

And then you remembered what he told you about the King and your question shifted to yourself.

Could you truly love the two of them?

The palace of Fuku was as wondrous as the man that lived within its ornate walls. Lush gardens of flowers you’d never seen before decorated the grounds along with sculpted shrubbery, towering trees, and crystalline ponds with flowers floating on the surface. Further ahead was a palace composed of various brightly colored structures connected by breezeways of intricately carved stone and floors of marble. Its doors and windows were made of wrought iron and colored glass you had only seen in the great cathedral of Ita when you and your brother visited with your cousin, King Kiyoomi.

The most peculiar aspect of Fuku’s palace, however, had to be the scores of attractive men and women, scantily dressed in silks and spread across the palace’s grounds, only adding to their exotic beauty. They were all in pairs or groups, walking, lounging, eating, and chatting away merrily. The closer you got to the palace, the more frequent were the couples or groups of men and women engaging in other more lascivious acts that made your face flush before turning your head in embarrassment. Still, whenever you walked past them, they stopped what they were doing, no matter how intimate, and bowed their heads in greeting.

You were a world away from the snow-covered stone castle you had grown up in where flowers were scarce and people locked themselves indoors to escape the cold, engaging in their intimate affairs away from the eyes and ears of others. Regardless, you dismissed your narrow-minded thoughts and returned their greetings with an incline of your head and a nervous smile, determined to fit in and earn their respect sooner rather than later. For your future as Fuku’s Queen, Akaashi who loved and believed in you, and the King you had yet to meet but saved your people and allowed you to experience a love that was grander than any of the songs you had heard in your youth.

And with the guidance and support of your new ladies and servants, the King, and Akaashi, you were able to do just that, settling into your new home and role before your marriage that took place a week after your arrival.

The wedding was grander than the few you had witnessed, truly befitting of a King as boisterous and indulgent as Koutarou Bokuto. It took place in the main garden behind the palace. A place you had grown fond of throughout your stay and something both the King and Akaashi knew very well as they had often found you there. Per Fuku’s tradition, the ceremony took place at dawn when the sun and stars were both present and the sky was as colorful as the palace. You wore a beautiful dress that was modest to Fuku’s standards but was made with white silk and covered with golden embroidery–two of Fuku’s colors. Your groom, clad in black and gold, stood across from you with the most blinding smile spread across his handsome face as the two of you exchanged your vows.

When the ceremony ended with a chaste kiss, all of Fuku’s nobles in attendance erupted into a symphony of cheers and your husband’s infectious smile tugged at your lips. A smile that only grew when Akaashi who had been behind Bokuto throughout the entire thing, stepped forward and embraced his King before taking you into his arms. He buried his face into the crook of your neck and whispered his love for you against the shell of your ear, eliciting a furious blush from you. A blush that persisted throughout the celebrations when both men took turns praising your beauty and whispering the various ways they would worship you that night.

Despite Akaashi’s reassurances before the wedding and the King’s kind treatment of you during your time together, the thought of being intimate with both men was daunting. Your strict upbringing made it impossible for you to be exposed to the intricacies of sexual relations except for the vague and rushed speech from your nanny the night before you left Shira.

“You lie down, spread your legs, and close your eyes. There will be pain but the less you resist your husband the better it’ll be for you.” She had said, eyes telling you she spoke from experience. “If your husband is kind, he might even stop visiting your bed after getting you with child.”

Those were the words you recalled when your merry husband rose to his feet and announced he would be retiring to bed. You waited with bated breath for the bedding ceremony to begin with rowdy men tripping over themselves to get their hands on you and take you to the King’s chambers while stripping and groping you, but they never came. The guests only clapped and cheered before returning to their cups and conversation. Dumbfounded by their dismissal you turned to the King only to find him already offering you his hand with that confident smile of his.

“Allow me to escort you to your rooms, wife. I will send my people to help you prepare for tonight.”

Countless questions regarding the consummation of your marriage filled your head but you dared not ask them and chose to trust your husband and, by extension, your shared lover, Akaashi.

When the two of you reached the guarded doors to your chambers, you released his hand and took a step forward, but before you could sink into a curtsy, he rushed forward, took ahold of your face, and slanted his lips against yours in a hungry kiss.

He took advantage of your surprise and tasted your mouth with his tongue. Before you knew it, he had you pinned against a wall and his strong hands traveled down your neck and arms before settling on your hips, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. It didn’t take long for you to thread your arms around his neck to draw him closer and your initiative was rewarded with a groan from deep inside his throat that had your stomach swirling with something.

He released your lips and rested his forehead against yours, warm shallow breaths tickling your face.

“I had to have more of your sweet mouth, my darling wife.” He panted and you were transfixed by the fullness of his inviting lips. You wanted more of them but before you could lean in, he released you and took a step back.

“I’ll be waiting for you with Akaashi,” he said with a smirk. “So hurry and come to us.”

Still out of breath, you could only nod but that was more than enough for the King, whose golden eyes drank you in before turning to address the guards that had witnessed your heated kiss. Where the King was unaffected by the audience, you were thoroughly embarrassed and fled inside of your chambers, closing the door, and leaning on it only to find two women before you.

“Congratulations, Your Highness.”

The shorter auburn-haired girl addressed you first before she and the taller girl sank into curtsies. “I am Yukie and this is Kaori. The King sent us to help you prepare for tonight.”

“It's a pleasure meeting you both” You replied, stepping away from the door. “I’m afraid I do not know what to expect. You see, the King said he and Lord Akaashi would both be wai–”

A gasp ripped from your throat and a hand slapped over your mouth, stopping yourself from finishing that statement. You stared at the two women mortified by your slip of tongue while they merely averted their gaze and tittered amongst themselves. And just when you thought you couldn’t feel any more ashamed, their reaction made you wish the ground would part and swallow you whole.

“There is nothing to be ashamed about, Your Highness.” Kaori declared and her partner nodded. “Believe us when we say we are well aware of the King and Lord Akaashi’s… habits in the bedroom.”

Your face felt as if it was on fire. “I-I don’t understand.”

“We are a part of His Majesty’s harem, my Queen,” Yukie answered with a smile that held no malice–at least none that you could make out.

“I-I see,” you muttered completely blindsided by your sudden encounter with two of the King’s lovers but quickly fixed your expression when you remembered where you were and what your role was as Queen. “As I mentioned before, I know very little about what is expected of me; therefore, I will be in your care.”

The two women exchanged a look before turning to you with a gleam in their eyes and a mischievous smile playing on their lips.

The hour you spent with Yukie and Kaori taught you more about the intimate acts between people than any lecture or piece of kitchen gossip you had ever heard. As they lathered your breasts with soap, they informed you of the vast amount of pleasure your nipples could bring you from having them stroked, pinched, and sucked. As they cleaned the area between your legs, they described the act of sex and how to minimize the pain by having your clit stroked. And when they had you kneel in the tub with your rear end sticking out, they explained how penetration through that orifice could also feel pleasurable as they washed it.

By the time, your body was lathered in scented oils and covered with a thin robe, there was a dull ache between your legs from Yukie and Kaori’s ministrations and only two people were allowed to relieve you from it. Escorted by two of your guards, you walked the short distance to the King’s quarters where only a knight of the King’s guard stood watch. You recognized Sir Konoha from his sandy blonde hair, medium build, and narrow jade eyes that lowered along with his head when he saw you.

“Your Highness,” he greeted solemnly before straightening. “I will announce your presence to the King.”

You raised your hand and stopped him. “There’s no need for that, Sir. The King is expecting me.”

Konoha looked like he wanted to protest, but in the end, he relented to your wishes and did as he was told, opening the iron double doors for you to slip through.

The two women had gone into great detail about the King and Akaashi’s relationship at your behest, but instead of the jealousy, you thought you would feel, you found yourself more curious than anything. A part of you had already known the King and Akaashi would most likely be getting intimate before your arrival, so you quietly made your way through the two ornate antechambers, hoping to catch them in the act.

As you carefully opened the door leading to the King’s bedchamber, the sound of slapping skin, needy whines, and strangled groans filled your ears and sent a wave of pleasure to your aching core. You crept into the dimly lit room as quietly as you could and stood in a dark corner as the two men continued, lost in the throes of passion.

The scene was as the King’s female lovers had described. The man you loved was on all fours and gripping the sheets as the King towered over him, large hands gripping his hips as he thrust into him. High pitched whines left Akaashi’s pretty mouth each time the King plowed into him and they were the sweetest song you’d ever heard. Fascinated by their coupling, you drew closer to get a better view.

While both of their faces were flushed from exertion, the King’s was scrunched up with his teeth bared and Akaashi’s was thrown back with his mouth open and eyes rolled back. Trailing your gaze further down, you noticed a litany of red marks on his neck, collarbone, chest, swollen nipples, and toned stomach. Unable to hold back, your hand undid your robe and fingers worked your peaked nipples, rubbing and tweaking the sensitive buds as your eyes greedily took in the two men before you.

Akaashi’s whines soon turned into wanton cries until his arms gave out and he fell only for the King to draw him up against his chest without stilling his hips.

“Such an eager whore,” the King chuckled against Akaashi’s ear. “Are you going to cum already?”

“Mmmm!” Akaashi moaned, his entire body trembling and his erect cock bouncing. “C-can’t help it! You fuck me so good, my King.”

A guttural noise from the back of the King’s throat filled the room and the wetness Kaori had described as your arousal leaked out, coating your inner thighs.

The King wrapped a hand around Akaashi’s neck and held him against his chest. “Greedy sluts don’t get to come before their master. Is that understood?”

Before Akaashi could respond, the King’s other hand gripped his cock and you matched his motion, bringing your hand to your core. As the King continued fucking his Chancellor, your fingers worked your clit the way Yukie had done during your bath. But where she had stopped before you reached the pinnacle of your pleasure, your slickened fingers continued rubbing frantically until your climax washed over you.

Your mind went blank. You completely forgot about concealing your presence and let a strangled whine escape your lips. It wasn’t until you heard shuffling and looked up to find King Koutarou, still erect and an unmistakable hunger in his eyes.

“Did you enjoy the show?” He asked, and a shiver went down your spine from the gravelly tone of his voice. “Seeing your husband fuck another?”

It was only then that you realized just how massive your husband was, not just in size but in presence as well. You couldn’t say anything–do anything–besides stand there and hope he would take you and give you the pleasure he’d given Akaashi. As if he had read your mind, a smirk tugged on his lips and he pulled you forward, leading you out of the darkness.

“Look who we have here, Akaashi.” He drawled, pushing you back until you toppled onto the bed. “It appears your sweet innocent princess is adjusting well to her new home.”

Cool silk was replaced by warm hands as Akaashi placed you between his legs. “But she still has so much to learn, my King. Shall we teach her?”

Whereas his pretty mouth formed a gentle smile, his pools of stormy blue reflected a much darker and salacious emotion. An emotion that manifested in the hardening of his cock that pressed against your back. Emboldened by his response, you carded your fingers through his soft hair and brought his lips down on yours, sliding your tongue against his the way the King had done to you. He groaned into your mouth and returned your kiss with just as much fervor before trailing his hands up your sides and cupping your breasts. You gasped when his deft fingers worked your sensitive buds and brought you more pleasure than you ever could.

“Looks like Yukie and Kaori already taught her how to please herself.”

Thoroughly distracted by Akaashi, you failed to notice the King spreading your legs and settling his face between them. Breaking off the kiss, you panted and peered down at the King holding your legs down and inhaling your scent. You trembled from Akaashi’s ministrations and the soft exhale of the King’s nose over your aching core.

“I wonder if these lips taste as sweet as your others.” He murmured, brushing his nose against your sensitive clit.

“W-what do you mea– Ah!”

The King’s wet muscle parted your slickened folds and licked a stripe from your cunt to your clit. You jolted up but the two men held you down as they continued their ministrations on your most sensitive parts. Akaashi continued his assault on your breasts while also leaving a trail of marks from the shell of your ear to your collarbone. The King put his entire mouth to work by sucking on your clit and pushing his tongue into your cunt. Their onslaught had you writhing against Akaashi and his cock, drawing out hisses from him before he started rocking against your form as well.

Your peak came faster and harder than before. Your back arched and your eyes shot open as a cry ripped from your throat. Your hands clutched at Akaashi as warmth flooded from you and into the King’s mouth, whose tongue gently lapped up whatever it could. It wasn’t until you relaxed into Akaashi and your spasms ceased that the King rose from his place between your legs and kneeled on the bed. Under the pale moonlight, his face glistened with your essence and the sight was enough to once again stoke the flames of your arousal.

“How does she taste?” Akaashi asked and the King grinned before pulling the other man into a hungry kiss. Seeing them up close was even better than from a distance, and the lewd sounds from their conjoined mouths had your cunt aching. Like clockwork, your hand traveled between your legs but was stopped by the King’s. While he continued kissing Akaashi, he pushed a finger into your tight wet cunt, curling it and dragging it in and out.

It was an uncomfortable sensation at first, but as his thumb started rubbing circles around your clit, your arousal eased your discomfort and one finger turned into two. The King knew exactly where to stroke and press until your hips were moving on their own accord against his hand.

“Look at her fuck herself on my fingers, Akaashi,” the King remarked from above. “Such a needy girl.”

“I think she’s ready to take a cock.” The man behind you replied and you could hear his smile. “Maybe even two.”

You mewled at the thought of being filled by both of them and desperately nodded your consent. The King hummed before pulling out from your sopping cunt and brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. A whiney protest fell from your lips but the two men merely chuckled at your frustration.

“Relax, sweetheart. We’re going to give you what you want.”

The King shuffled backward and retrieved a small amber vial. You watched with curiosity as he opened it and let its contents spill onto his large cock. Your eyes were glued on it as he pumped himself a couple of times. Behind you, Akaashi sucked in a breath and his cock twitched to life as he ground it against you.

Once the King’s cock gleamed with what appeared to be oil, he lied back against the pillows and motioned for you. With your heart hammering in your chest and your cunt fluttering with desire, you crawled over and let him maneuver your body into place, thighs straddling his waist and your hands gripping his shoulders.

Your husband looked like a majestic beast beneath you. A beast that would have had no qualms in taking you–devouring you–had you not given yourself to him on your own accord. His eyes ravished you with a single look, and you found yourself falling into pools of gold.

With his cock lined up at your entrance, he pulled you down for a kiss and swallowed your cries as he pushed into your tight cunt, moving slowly and pausing whenever your fingers dug into his skin. Your nanny and the two women had been correct, there was pain from his intrusion, but his intoxicating kisses and the friction on your clit eased it, giving way to pleasure.

Once your body adjusted to his size, the King started moving his hips and slid in and out of you with ease. He started slow, but with each thrust, he built up speed and rhythm while his thumb rubbed circles over your throbbing clit. With your peak building, your hips started moving erratically on their own, an act that the King encouraged with his hands gripping the flesh of your thighs and guiding you.

“You feel amazing,” He breathed, “You’re doing amazing.”

It was all too much, yet not enough. The King filled you in ways you never could have imagined, but there was something missing–someone missing. Sitting up, you peered behind you and found Akaashi with his eyes fixed on your splayed legs and hand pumping his cock.

“Please, my Lord,” you begged, reaching out to him. “I need you too.”

His hand immediately stopped and he met your gaze. “Where do you want me, Dearest?”

“M-my other hole,” you whined, and the King groaned beneath you. “Want you to fuck my ass.”

At your crude words, Akaashi lunged forward and ravaged your mouth. His tongue delved into your mouth and tasted every crevice of your mouth. His lips sucked on your bottom lip until it went numb. He did all of that while spilling cold oil over your rear and working it into your tight muscle with a finger. You jerked at the foreign sensation but he held you down against the King and worked his finger in and out of your ass. Before you knew it, one finger turned into two that went in deeper and stretched you out deliciously. He pressed down against the layer of skin that separated his finger from the King’s cock and you keened.

“Fuck, I think she’s ready, Akaashi.” Your husband moaned, slowing his rhythm but increasing the force of his thrusts. “She’s creaming all over my cock.”

Akaashi settled behind you while flexing his fingers in your hole. He pressed against you and pulled out his fingers from your twitching muscle, but before you could vocalize your complaint, his cock head pushed into you with the same patience as the King.

With your head thrown back from the intrusion, a series of shuddering breaths left your opened mouth. You shook like a leaf atop of the King. Tears dotted your eyes as Akaashi split you open from behind. It would have been a terrible experience with anyone else, other men that didn’t care for your pleasure or only married you for political gains. Akaashi and King Koutarou weren’t just any other men, however, and they proved their affection for you by rubbing all of your sensitive parts until you were moving your hips again while they fucked both of your holes.

Your orgasm came suddenly like an ocean’s wave. It was violent as it crashed, washing over you and leaving you breathless from the sheer impact. It blinded you with a flash of white, similar in color to the bubbles that followed a receding wave. And much like getting tossed aside by a wave, another one followed it before you could even recover from the first, but you weren’t alone in your next orgasm. The King reached his peak just before you did and Akaashi’s came a moment after yours did, both filling you up with their seed.

Thoroughly spent, you went limp and fell on top of the King’s chest. You steadied your breathing and listened to the King’s beating heart as your heavy eyelids threatened to close. Akaashi’s lithe body also draped itself over your back, his own chest thumping against you soothingly.

With your bodies still conjoined, you were overcome with affection for the two men that had given you everything you ever wanted. A love story that was beyond anything you’d ever imagined and a marriage that supported your brother’s reign and saved your people. Elated and at peace, you let their beating hearts lull you to sleep, knowing you would be happy with the two of them in your new home.

[mianavs]

Undone & Divine

Sakusa x f!reader

tw: sacrilege, smut, dubcon, oral (m! and f!receiving), inappropriate use of a confessional

a/n: the product of priest!Sakusa brainrot with @temptemi, endless google searches of catholic practices, and clips from the movie, Novitiate. i couldn’t fit everything i wanted in here so there will be a Part 2!

ty: to the wonderful @bohica160 and @oneblonded for beta reading and to @betheydocrimewrites​ for your tremendous help with grammar and wording!

tg: @hqintheclub​

wc: 2.7k+

Komori was running out of time. Unlike his siblings, he had yet to find a vessel to inhabit or a child of god to corrupt. These tasks were vital for any child of Satan and Komori was starting to feel the pressure. While he had no ambitions to take over his father’s place, Komori didn’t want to be sent into exile for failing as a demon. After mulling over his options, he decided to kill two birds with one stone by corrupting a priest and nun who would in turn bring him into the human world as their child.

That was when Komori stumbled upon an old abbey in a small rural town where he found a priest running away from his past and a young nun with a secret. The situation was almost too good to be true, from the guilt that festered in their hearts despite the hours of prayer and fasting they carried out, to the fear of their sins coming back to haunt them that always had them on edge. They were fragile despite how strong in their faith they appeared and that was what made them succumb to their lust.

The dilation of Father Sakusa’s pupils when he watched you enter the chapel still clad in your white novitiate veil and habit. The dust of pink on your cheeks when you met his darkened gaze before bending over to press a chaste kiss on his hand. They were both clear indicators of a carnal attraction between the two of you, and that was what singled both of you out to Komori, who looked forward to giving you two the relief you wanted—no, needed—deep down.

While others prayed, fasted, donated to charities, or volunteered in church activities as penance, Kiyoomi Sakusa found those acts ineffective when it came to repenting for his sin. It wasn’t until he decided to take his vows to become a priest that he finally felt at ease after that cursed night. He’d been young and stupid, drinking with his buddies and taking a drive to one of their lake houses. He should’ve done more to stop one of his friends from getting completely hammered. He should’ve stopped him from jumping off the dock into the dark murky lake waters. But above all, Sakusa should’ve jumped in to save his friend instead of fleeing the scene with the others under the pretense of “getting help”.

Unfortunately, that divine peace he felt only lasted a while before he started seeing his friend’s dead face, bloated and discolored, in his church’s baptismal font. Sakusa fasted and prayed for two days straight after that frightening vision. On the third day, when dawn broke and delicate sunlight spilled into the white stone chapel from the tall arched windows, he received an answer to his prayers in the form of a priest visiting from another parish. In his desperate search for inner peace, Sakusa packed up and left the town he’d grown up in for a derelict abbey looking for a priest eight hours away in the middle of nowhere.

It was a ghastly old thing and the cawing murder of crows and late autumn season didn’t help. The abbey consisted of a group of rundown masonry buildings connected by a cloister. The lawn that surrounded the abbey wasn't in any better shape, covered in overgrown grass and littered with weeds. It also seemed to serve as a cemetery, as hinted by the dozens of tombstones strewn around. There was an uneasiness that settled into Sakusa’s stomach the longer he examined the abbey that would become his home. It had none of the inviting warmth he was used to feeling from holy grounds, and if not for the black cross perched atop of the bell tower, he would not have believed the old structure before him to be an abbey—let alone an active one.

If Sakusa had any doubt of life within those rundown stone walls, the haunting tolling of the church bell quelled that disbelief, and the line of nuns that spilled from the chapel’s front door’s stamped it out completely.

Despite the terrible physical condition of the abbey, the ghost of Sakusa’s deceased friend didn’t find him there and that in itself made it the best place on God’s earth. He truly believed that he’d received a heavenly sign from the Lord himself and jumped headfirst into his work to restore the neglected abbey into a sanctuary welcome to all who needed it. With the flame of his faith burning strong within his heart, he welcomed the new influx of novitiates with enthusiasm until his eyes met yours.

It was then that a gust of wind caused his flame to flicker.

Sakusa couldn’t get enough of you. He watched you more than he should have during Mass and thought of you all the time. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld, with your bright eyes, soft lips, captivating smile, and lilting voice. When only seeing you during Mass wasn’t enough, Sakusa took to stealing glances of you during your choir practice, maintenance chores, and between your classes and prayer sessions. He would have been content just watching you go about your day, but one day you caught him staring and instead of averting your eyes the way you should have, you blushed and gave him a shy smile. It was then that Sakusa realized he wanted more of you.

The first time you spoke to him and called him ‘Father’, Sakusa dreamt of you. He was in the confessional with you and listened to you confess to having impure thoughts. As he recommended an increase in prayer, your breath grew labored on the other side of the latticed opening. Sakusa kept speaking but leaned closer, only to feel your warm breath fanning his face and to make out noises he’d never expected from a bride of God. Blood rushed to his groin until his black slacks were suddenly too tight and his erection only grew the louder the lewd sounds became on the other side of the confessional.

It was that whiney mewl from your lips that broke Sakusa.

He leapt to his feet, exited his compartment, and yanked the door to yours open. You looked deliciously undone with your face flushed, fingers covered in your slick, and your hair flowing free after discarding your veil. Like an unhinged beast, Sakusa yanked you forward by your soft locks until you landed on your knees with a thud. You were directly in front of his tented pants, and before Sakusa could tell you what to do, you went to work, releasing his hardened cock from the confines of his clothing.

Shooting him a coy look, you wrapped your pretty lips around him and proceeded to bob your head as you sucked him off. The heat of your mouth, the tantalizing swirl of your tongue, the tightening of your throat when you took in his entire length and gagged. You felt incredible and it didn’t take long for Sakusa to come with a grunt, holding your head in place and shooting his load into your mouth.

The annoying chime of his alarm woke Sakusa up from his dream. Shutting off the alarm, he let out an involuntary curse when he saw the result of that vivid dream. His semen coated the inside of his underwear and half-hard cock. Shame overwhelmed him and he took an ice cold shower not only to cool off, but as punishment for dreaming of you, a sister of the faith, in such a sinful manner.

However, it seemed that his self-inflicted punishment wasn’t enough because, just as Sakusa was about to wrap up confession, the penitent’s compartment door opened and closed before your sweet voice addressed him.

“B-bless me father for I have sinned,” you pleaded, and a sick part of Sakusa wondered if you’d sound the same underneath him. “It has been… three months since my last confession.”

He could see why you were so hesitant to admit how long it had been since your last confession. As a nun, it was expected for them to participate in religious services more than the average Catholic, and that included stepping into a confessional and baring their soul to God.

Pride surged in his chest, knowing you trusted in him enough to break your drought and allow him to listen to your worries and advise you on them. It almost made him forget the wicked dream of you on your knees and with his cock in your wet and inviting mouth.

“I-I have been having… l-lascivious thoughts,” you admitted in a shaky voice. “Ever since I arrived and t-took my vows.”

Sakusa swallowed hard as the impossible scene from his dream started to play out. His cock twitched to life and he had a hard time finding his voice.

“And… these thoughts,” Sakusa started, shifting his weight on the hard wooden bench. “Can you elaborate on them?”

As Sakusa worked on convincing himself that his inquiry was strictly due to priestly duty and not as a result of his growing erection, you took a deep breath before speaking.

“They are about… you, Father.”

Your voice cracked at the last word and it sent Sakusa’s mind into a frenzy with images of you whispering that hallowed endearment in his ear while engaging in sinful acts. Sakusa’s right hand subconsciously drifted over his hardened cock and pressed on it before he sucked in a breath. 

“You may continue.”

You took in a ragged breath and sniffled while Sakusa fought the urge to press his face against the lattice wood panel. 

“I-I think… about you… at night when I’m alone. I imagine touching you, Father. I think about your warm hands on my skin. I wonder what it would be like to kiss… you.”

The relief that washed over Sakusa the longer you spoke was like rich wine—bitter but intoxicating. He closed his eyes and pictured the scenes you spoke of while he palmed his erection.

“L-last night I even dreamt of you, Father.” 

Sakusa’s eyes snapped open and he retracted his hand as if burned by the flames of hell itself.

“We were here… in the confessional, and I was telling you about these… these s-sinful thoughts.” A choked sob escaped your lips before you continued. “And as you relayed my penance, I-I couldn’t help myself and started… t-touching myself.”

“How?” Sakusa demanded with a growl as his hands gripped the bench he sat on.

You gasped and Sakusa saw your fingers pressed against the panel. “F-Father are you alr—”

“No,” Sakusa rasped, leaping to his feet. “I want you to show me.”

He stepped out of his compartment before yanking the door to your compartment open. He was heaving as his eyes focused on your trembling form perched up on the bench. Your eyes were wide in shock as tears streamed down your flushed cheeks. With a jolt, your trembling hands flew to your head to straighten your crooked coif and veil.

“Don’t!” Sakusa ordered, shutting the door behind him. “In fact, I want you to take it off.”

“B-but, Father, I-”

“Think of this as your penance.” Sakusa drawled, his voice low with desire. “Now, take off your veil, hike up your habit, and spread your legs for me, Sister Y/N.”

You hesitated, as if hoping he’d change his mind, before doing what he asked with a fresh set of tears welling up in your eyes. You carefully removed your black veil and the white coif before gingerly setting them aside. Then with one last questioning glance at Sakusa, you took in a shaky breath and leaned back on the bench, gripping the thick skirt of your black habit and hiking it up almost tantalizingly.

You wore a pair of heeled Oxfords over a set of white stockings that went up just below your knees. Sakusa kept his gaze fixed on your legs, and when the soft flesh of your thighs peered beneath the rough fabric of your habit, he fell to his knees in front of you. The sudden action made you jump, and you drew your legs together to Sakusa’s displeasure. When your white underwear was finally exposed to Sakusa’s hungry eyes, his patience had worn thin. His hands gripped your knees and spread your legs apart.

Sakusa had almost felt bad about making you expose yourself to him, but when his eyes zeroed in on the damp spot of fabric over your cunt, any guilt he might’ve felt melted away. You squirmed under the scrutiny of his gaze and let out a series of whiny sounds that went straight to Sakusa’s cock.

“F-father, what are you—Ah!”

He pressed his face against your clothed cunt and inhaled, causing you to jerk away. Sakusa’s arms immediately curled around your thighs and held you in place as his tongue darted out and tasted your arousal.

Your entire body trembled and you threw your head back as the sweetest mewl escaped your lips. Like a switch had gone off in his head, Sakusa growled before devouring your clothed pussy. He lapped up your slit, from your cunt to your clit and vice versa. His lips circled around your swollen clit and he sucked until you were bucking your hips into his face.

When your panties were completely drenched with your slick and Sakusa’s saliva, his hands traveled up and his fingers curled underneath the band before sliding them down.

“Lift up your hips,” Sakusa demanded and you did as you were told without protest.

Tossing the garment to the side, he glanced up at you to find your face flushed and your pupils blown out. Sakusa smirked before delving his tongue into your dribbling cunt and held you in place as you writhed above him.

He ate you out like a starving man, and in a way, he supposed he had been starving when it came to women. His tongue fucked you while his nose poked and prodded at your twitching clit before switching to sucking on and flicking at your clit .

When one of your hands fell to his head and started pushing him against your bucking hips, Sakusa knew you were close and pressed his face into your cunt. He let you suffocate him with your thighs as he worked you to your climax.

Your body suddenly went rigid, and you came with a throaty cry. A gush of cum filled Sakusa’s mouth and covered his face as a series of tremors coursed through your body. After recovering his breath, Sakusa went right to cleaning you up with his tongue, while you sat back and recovered from your orgasm.

When he deemed your cunt clean enough, he retrieved your panties and you put them on, leaving a trail of kisses on one of your legs as the white material traveled up your leg.

“F-father,” you whimpered once your panties were snug around your hips. “H-have I been forgiven for my sins?”

Your innocent inquiry was like a splash of cold water that washed away the lust that had clouded his judgement. Sakusa’s eyes darted around the cramped compartment until they found a black iron cross that glared back at him. His face burned with shame, and the white clerical collar around his neck suddenly seemed too tight. The room itself became so stifling that Sakusa found it hard to breathe.

“Father?”

Worry flashed across your eyes as you lowered your habit and reached out to him. Guilt coursed through Sakusa, and he took a shaky step back before you could make contact with his hand. The expression on your face wavered, and Sakusa shot one last look at the cross behind you before fleeing the confessional and the horrific aftermath of his actions.

Komori was lounging on the dilapidated stone fence surrounding the abbey when he spotted the young priest rush out of the chapel, tugging at his collar and muttering a series of prayers as he fled the scene. Not long after him, the pretty nun Komori had chosen stepped out of the same chapel with a flood of tears streaming down her face. As Komori watched the nun rush to seek sanctuary in the abbey’s cloister, he clicked his tongue in disapproval and decided he would need a more hands-on approach for his plan to work.

[mianavs]

Crooked

Kageyama x f!reader

tw: dark content, hate sex, depiction of death, blood, violence, angst

a/n: my fic for the ‘hatefucking’ anilysium nsfw server collab. make sure to check out the other talented participants!

ty: all my love and appreciation to my wonderful beta readers @tetsunormous @rosesandtoshi​ @oneblonded​

wc: 3.2k+

You woke up at the deafening sound of that gunshot.

You always did.

The persistent nightmare always ended there, and you’d wake up with a start, heart thundering in your chest and cold sweat trailing down your face to your neck. However, it wasn’t like you needed nightmares to picture the moments after the gunshot, because that haunting image was burned into your memory and played like a video on repeat. The dingy private room lined with cheap velvet seating and a massive glass coffee table in the center littered with a wide array of cups, bottles, white powder, needles, and lighters. The cacophony of wailing women, bellowing men, and hands striking mascara-stained faces. The crude scent of liquor, burning plastic, and acrid bile that permeated the air.

And at the center of it all was that trembling girl on her knees and with the black barrel of a shotgun lodged into her mouth. Tears streamed down her once pretty face that was now swollen—covered in bruises, cuts, and blood. Her dainty hands were balled into tight fists atop the short skirt of her white mini-dress. You’d never seen her so shaken. Even when her first client had shoved his entire length down her throat, she hadn’t even resisted and just raised her hands to grip his thighs before moving her head on her own accord.

But no matter how stupidly courageous she was, the girl who’d infiltrated the Organization was no match for death, and she cowered before that handheld Reaper. She closed her eyes, and you could almost hear the silent prayer she offered to whatever god she believed in before your boss pulled the trigger. Scarlet blood splattered the wall behind before her lifeless body fell with a loud thud and blood pooled around her.

Everything afterwards was a blur because all you could think about was the loss of another innocent life in the never-ending war between the Organization and the law.

Like clockwork, your hand shot out to your nightstand, grabbing the lone white bottle on it. However, upon picking it up, you didn’t hear the familiar rattling sound of pills, and that was when you remembered you’d run out of medication the day before. The realization only worsened your anxious state by turning it into frustration that you acted on by chucking the empty bottle at the nearest wall.

You’d been surrounded by death ever since you’d fallen into the hellhole that was your life now, yet your dependency on drugs only started after that night. And while you very well could’ve spent hours pondering over the reason, it wouldn’t change the fact that she was gone along with her stupid smiling face and ridiculous goal of bringing down the Organization from within. So you did what you’d done every single time life sent one of its blows your way, you got back up and dusted yourself off.

You were just about to send a text to your “pharmacist” when a text appeared across the top of your screen from one of your managers.

[You’re off deliveries tonight. A client has specifically requested you for a night in heaven. Your appointment is at 8]

An exasperated sigh escaped from your lips at the thought of fucking another disgusting client while off your meds. The last time you’d done it your teeth had grazed the client’s cock a little too hard and he’d gone into a rage, beating you until you were coughing up blood and slamming your head into the ground effectively knocking you out. The morning after you were in agonizing pain as well as covered in bruises, dried blood, and semen. It’d been an awful experience, but you knew better than to go up against management, so you got up and prepared for your encounter.

As you made your way inside the imposing skyscraper that was the Organization’s hotel, your eyes fell onto the duo of men at the bar that you instantly recognized as police. They sat rigidly on their stools with a tight grip on their drinks and suspicion dripping from their eyes as they observed every passerby. You immediately thought of a certain individual that’d been a constant in your life since that nightmarish event and a smile played on your lips. Shaking away that thought, you went to the front desk to retrieve your key and made your way to the elevators.

Upon walking into that dimly lit hotel room, you never could have imagined seeing Tobio Kageyama sitting there with an opened bottle of Scotch and yet there he was. Dark hair mussed from running his hand through it too many times—a habit of his you’d picked up on—and stormy blue eyes that held only hatred in their depths.

Any other person would have cowered when faced with Kageyama’s unbridled rage, but you’d been molded by that very same rage and considered it your own personal ally in your fight to survive.

“And here I thought I wouldn’t get to see you today,” you commented before making your way to the young detective before you. “How’s my favorite stalker doing on this fine evening?”

He was silent, per usual, so you took a seat on the chair next to him, not missing the way his eyes flashed towards your legs as you crossed them before tearing his gaze away. Thoroughly pleased and amused by his boldness in seeking you out, you poured yourself a drink before teasing him.

“You know all you had to do was ask.” You leaned forward, putting your low-cut black dress to use. “I would’ve given it to you for free.”

His hand gripped his half-full cup and hurled it against the opposite wall with a loud crash, while a smile crept onto your face.

“I���m not here for that and you know it.” His voice was dangerously low and guttural, and crooked excitement bubbled within you just at the thought of finally pushing Kageyama over the edge. Would he yell profanities at you? Would he lay an unkind hand on you? The thought of watching those cold blue eyes light up with fire was enough to raise goosebumps across the expanse of your skin.

“If you’re not here to fuck me senseless then what do you want, detective?” You asked sweetly and batted your eyes for effect.

“T-tell me about her,” he asked and winced as if he’d suffer some sort of punishment by just mentioning her. “How was she before…”

“How the hell should I know?” You interrupted and took a swig of liquor, dropping your coy act as soon as he dared to touch that subject.

He flexed his hand. Veins shifted in his muscular arm and you wondered if he could choke the life out of you. “Don’t play dumb with me. I know more than you think.” There was a degree of certainty in his tone when he said those words that came off as mocking, and it didn’t sit well with you.

He lit that spark within and in no time flames of anger licked through you that had your blood boiling. In your state of fury, the corners of his mouth twitched into the beginnings of a derisive smile and eyes shined with mirth. You held your glass in a vice-like grip before speaking again.

“And what exactly do you know?” You asked, not bothering to hide the contempt in your tone.

“She told me about you. How she considered you a friend. The only friend she had in that place.”

At his admission of something you deep down already knew, your anger simmered and the fonder memories you had of her came to mind. The shopping spree the two of you went on after her first night on the job. The look of pure joy on her face when you brought her and the other girls ice cream from the convenience store next door to the hostess bar. The mellifluous sound of her laugh when she had a little too much to drink at her favorite restaurant.

“Yet even you, someone she considered a friend, did nothing when she needed you the most.”

It was those words that pushed you over the edge and you slammed your glass on the table. Shards of glass pierced your palm, yet you didn’t even flinch when warm blood dripped from your hand and mixed with the spilt Scotch on the table, pain pulsating up your forearm. Rage coursed through your veins and you were up on your feet with a start, moving until you were directly in front of him.

“And what about you?” Venom dripped from every word as you trembled in fury. “You want to talk about guilt? How about you—her fucking boyfriend—that let her walk into the slaughterhouse in the first place.”

He jumped to his feet and forced you back a couple of steps. His mouth curled into a snarl, nostrils flared to life, and eyes reflected the same rage you felt. This had been what you’d wanted after countless meetings where he’d just let you poke and prod at his grief without ever reacting, but guilt dampened your triumph, and you acted out accordingly.

“She talked about you too, you know. She showed me pictures of the two of you and told me about your vendetta against the Organization that took your mother away from you. I don’t know what she told you, but she went undercover for you.”

His eyes widened at that and you smiled satisfied in knowing that you’d one-upped him.

“All that evidence she collected, men she fucked, and shit she put into her body were all for your investigation. You want to blame someone for her death? Blame yourself, you piece of shit.” Your bloodied hand struck his cheek and painted it red. He stood still for a moment before raising his hand up and dabbing at your blood.

“If I’m the one that held the gun, you’re the one that pulled the trigger.” He growled before gripping your injured hand and pressing the glass deeper into your skin until he drew out a hiss from your mouth.

“You should have looked out for her more! You should have protected her the way she would have protected you!” He roared before harshly releasing your hand. The overwhelming truth to his words made your knees go weak. You knew he was right, but you would much rather put a bullet through your head than ever admit that to him, so you shielded yourself with your trump card of self-preservation.

“And throw away years of survival in that hellhole? Not a chance! She should’ve covered her tracks better instead of taking stupid risks for your damned investigation. An idiot like her shouldn’t have stepped foot into this world in the first place—you and I both know it. I wasn’t about to lose my head for a ditz like her no matter how friendly she thought we were. I’ll always choose myself over anything because if I don’t then who the hell will?”

It was his turn to step back while you continued your verbal onslaught.

“The world abandoned me before I even understood why and punished me accordingly. I learned how to survive after life knocked me down time and time again. There’s no room for foolish mistakes and friendships in this world. It’s every person for themselves. She was a halfwit if she ever believed other—”

His rough hand was around your neck in an instant, and he slammed you against the nearest wall before trapping you in with his body. A smile tugged at your lips as you took in the unadulterated hatred that oozed from every pore of his being.

“I wonder…what’s w-worse,” you choked out, struggling against his hold. “Your…hatred for me…or the k-knowledge…that I’m…the only…person…who knows…how you feel.”

His body pressed against yours and a strangled breath escaped your lips. The blood you’d smeared on his cheek had grown tacky and dark. His face twitched like those drug addicts you knew all too well that’d gone too long without their fix. The warm breath that escaped his clenched jaw caressed your skin in a way that juxtaposed the tight grip on your neck. And the swirl of rage and grief that reflected off his stormy eyes sent waves of twisted pleasure down below.

Kageyama looked absolutely deranged and you relished in all of his frightening glory with a throaty moan. You didn’t miss the way his pupils dilated ever so slightly from the obscene sound that left your lips, nor the growing hardness that pressed against your now molten core. Emboldened by his reaction, you ground your hips against his erection and smirked when his eyes closed shut, and he let out a strained hiss.

“You…just might be…as…f-fucked up…as—”

His hand jerked you forward and his lips slammed onto yours before you could finish that sentiment. His kiss was volatile, painful, and absolutely delicious and you were more than eager to reciprocate. Teeth clashed against teeth. Lips swelled and bled. You tasted him and he tasted you until the boundary that separated the two of you became blurred.

He dragged his mouth away from yours with a growl and you caught your breaths. It was then that you realized the grip on your throat had disappeared—definitely leaving behind an ugly bruise—and had travelled south to your hip along with his other hand.

Kageyama’s ragged breath fanned across your neck before claiming it with his mouth. Your hands flew up to his head and held it in place as he sucked on the sensitive skin just below your neck. His touch. His kiss. Everything about him set your skin ablaze and increased your arousal up until it became unbearable.

Your hands travelled down his neck, over his clothed stomach until they stopped at his bulging erection, leaving a trail of half-dried blood in their wake. You placed your cut-up hand over his hardened cock and palmed it, fresh blood from your injury coating his pants. Kageyama groaned against your bare shoulder before biting down hard enough for it to sting.

While he dragged his teeth across your collarbone, you got to work in freeing his cock from it’s confines. His fingers curled over the hem of your tight short dress and pulled it up over your hips. He ran a finger up your clothed slit that was completely soaked before tearing off the flimsy lace garment. A shudder of anticipation ran down your spine from the sensation of cool air on your bare twitching sex.

The two of you wasted no time. Your arms looped around his neck while his hands gripped the underside of your thighs and lifted you up against the wall before completely sheathing himself inside your tight wet cunt. You knew he’d hurt, even with your slick lubricating your walls, when you’d first laid eyes on his girthy member, but you hadn’t imagined the stretch would feel as amazing as it did. You let out a throaty moan as your legs wrapped themselves around his waist and teeth grazed the outer shell of his earlobe.

With each rough snap of his hips, Kageyama’s cock dragged against your fleshy walls and filled you up as if he’d been made for you. His thrusts picked up speed and his cock kissed your cervix time and time again, the agonizing ache in your belly building. Desperate to reach the pinnacle of your pleasure, you met his angry thrusts with your own erratic ones and guided him to the spot that would undoubtedly make you orgasm.

Incoherent pleas fell from your lips as Kageyama pounded into you mercilessly. You could tell he was close from the way his cock was throbbing, so you tangled your fingers in his bloodied strands of hair and mewled in his ear. A growl erupted from his throat and his fingers dug painfully into your thighs until his blunt nails pierced the skin. It was that stinging pain that pushed you over the edge and you drowned in waves of pleasure.

“F-fuck! Oh, FUCK!”

Your cunt spasmed and cum gushed out as you threw your head back in ecstasy. Kageyama paid little mind to your orgasm and continued hammering into your fluttering cunt. He buried his head in the crook of your shoulder to muffle his animalistic grunts and fucked you until your legs trembled and struggled to cling onto him.

For the first time in your life, you came twice in one night. Your body convulsed then stiffened as the rush, more intense than anything you’d ever felt, ripped through you. He came almost simultaneously, shouting obscenities while filling you up to the brim.

The two of you didn’t move, catching your breaths and riding out the last aftershocks of your respective orgasms.  Just before your proximity could turn into something intimate, Kageyama set you down and you untangled your limbs from his body.

He looked like hell covered in your blood and his sweat as he straightened out his clothes. Tearing your gaze off him, you absentmindedly pressed a hand against the wall to steady yourself only to hiss in pain when you realized it was your injured one. Replacing it with your hip, you let it lie limp at your side while you lowered your dress with your good hand.

“You should get that treated.”

Your eyes darted back up to find the barest hint of concern cross his face, but instead of feeling moved, you found yourself hating the sympathy he threw at you.

“This,” you replied brusquely and motioned between the two of you, “doesn’t change anything. You’re still a cop and I’m still a prostitute that deals drugs. Don’t forget that, Kageyama.”

A flurry of emotions flashed on his face before he settled for cool indifference. “Trust me, I won’t. The next time we cross paths will be the day I arrest you.”

A wicked smile spread across your face, and you took a step towards him. “You can arrest me all you want but that doesn’t mean the charges will stick. I’ve been in this industry for a while and just so happen to know all sorts of people.”

You ran a finger down Kageyama’s jawline and he fixed you with a smoldering gaze that caught you off guard. The air between you thickened with something other than lust or hate, and you retracted your hand as if it had been burned before turning around and heading toward the door.

He didn’t make a move to stop you, and you didn’t look back. You didn’t trust yourself in keeping your bubbling emotions at bay. The shame and guilt in knowing you had not only fucked your deceased friend’s boyfriend but had enjoyed fucking him. The festering grief that you lived with day in and day out over that very friend’s death. And finally the consternation that your encounter with Tobio Kageyama had brought about. He was the only one whose guilt, pain, anger, and grief reflected your own despite the warped nature of your relationship. You should have rejoiced over his misery like the crooked person you were, but you didn’t. The hate you’d felt towards him since her death wasn’t there to stabilize you anymore. It disappeared and had been replaced with a feeling you wouldn’t dare touch. Not when her memory occupied your waking thoughts and her death still plagued your nights.

[mianavs]

No Escape

You wanted to start a new life but your old one wasn’t done with you just yet

Osamu x runaway!reader

a piece i wrote for @sugawara-sweetheart​ ‘s decadence collab 

a/n: heavily inspired by my time working at a restaurant minus the hot boss bit. using Kobe as the location of Miya Onigiri 

tw: smut, assault, implied imprisonment

wc: 1.8k+

It’s only been three months since you ran away to Kobe but you’re already settling comfortably into your new life.

The studio you’re renting is tiny and the faint smell of mildew doesn’t leave no matter how much baking soda and vinegar you use to clean the walls and floors—you can’t stand the smell of bleach. Nevertheless, it’s warm and inviting after a long day at work when all you want to do is collapse on your bed to give your weary legs a break. Most importantly, it’s your home and no one is there to lock you in while taking away the key.

Your work is hands-down the best thing about your life. There is no where you’d rather be than in a hot kitchen with sweat dripping down your face as you chop ingredients, sauté vegetables, and plate your creations. It all started with a home economics class in high school that led you into accepting a scholarship to a culinary school that you attended for a year before your life was turned upside down by—

“Y/N! The order! Is it done?”

Your head snaps up to find your boss Osamu Miya drumming his fingers on the counter as he stares you down, thick brows knitted together. You suck in a breath and dart your eyes down to the three onigiri that have yet to be coated with Furikake seasoning. Swiftly, you press the seasoning onto the rice balls before handing the plate over to your boss.

“Done!”

Osamu looks up from the plate and lets his eyes linger on you before nodding wordlessly and taking the food to the customer. It’s a busy Friday evening and you’re understaffed again so Osamu’s waiting tables while you’re working the kitchen along with two other cooks. The orders pile up on the line and adrenaline courses through your veins as you dart around the kitchen gathering ingredients and dodging your coworkers.

Shifts like these drain all your energy and by the time the clock hits 10pm, your legs feel as if they’ll fall off at any moment. Still, you don’t mind the hectic rushes during the day because they keep you from revisiting the painful memories you keep buried away in the darkest recesses of your mind.

Cleaning up after a long busy shift is the hardest part about working at a restaurant like Onigiri Miya. The building is old and the unwelcome critters like to come out at night, so Osamu is quite anal about storing ingredients and cleaning.

It’s not that you hate cleaning but obsessive cleanliness makes your blood run cold and your throat close up until you can’t breathe. It takes you back to that pristine home that became your own personal hell.

You’re scrubbing the outside of the huge metal rice cooker when one of your coworkers lets out a yelp which is followed by the sound of splashing water. The acrid fumes of bleach assault your nose and you look down to see your shoes covered with the cleaning agent.

The scrub sponge slips from your hand as a wave of nausea sweeps over you. Bile rises up your throat and you grip onto the nearby wall to get on your feet before staggering to the bathroom.

The flickering lights of the dingy bathroom distort your vision further but you make a beeline to the sink regardless. You turn on the hot water and pump a ridiculous amount of soap before frantically rubbing your hands together until your skin is red and raw. Your heart hammers inside your heaving chest and hot tears blur your vision as the voice that haunts your nightmares rings in your ears.

Filthy

Dirty

Gross

You’ll never be clean without me

You nearly jump out of your skin when a heavy hand lands on your shoulder. Every muscle in your body tenses painfully and a single thought echoes in your head like a mantra.

He found me

He found me

He found me

But it isn’t him. It’s Osamu forcing you to face him as his fingers dig into your shoulders. Suddenly, you can breathe again and you deflate like a balloon.

“You’re okay, Y/N. I got you.” His rich voice never fails to calm you down during your panic attacks and you wonder how you ever got so lucky to have him as a boss and—

He pulls you to him, pressing his lips against yours in an abrupt kiss. He coaxes you to submit with every languid stroke of his tongue, every touch that burns through your clothes, every groan that rumbles in his chest. Your body always resists him at first and you wonder if it’s due to the wounds of your past that still feel fresh or the inappropriateness of your relationship because Osamu is your boss. Those thoughts eventually melt away along with your resistance and you open up to him in more ways than one.

It’s your first time at his flat but you don’t see much of it because he has you against his front door as soon as you cross the threshold. His lips latch on to your sensitive neck, swiping his teeth against your skin and littering it with marks. It isn’t until his hand buries itself inside your undone pants that your lustful haze dampens.

“W-we shouldn’t be doing this.”

Your protest falls on deaf ears as Osamu palms your throbbing clit and pushes two long digits into your needy cunt. A jolt of pleasure runs through your body and you grasp at his shoulders, hair, and back while he pumps his fingers at a fast but steady pace.

From your previous trysts at the restaurant, Osamu already knows his way around the fleshy walls of your cunt and aims toward that spot that has you coming undone in minutes. You’re keening and holding on to him for dear life when your release washes over you and covers his entire hand and wrist. Like clockwork, shame and terror take root and a cruel husky voice embedded in your memory resurfaces.

Dirty

That one word is all it takes for you to unlatch yourself from Osamu and glance at the mess you’ve made. You’re trembling like a leaf waiting for a heavy hand to send you across the floor or for harsh fingers to grip your hair to throw you like a ragdoll, but Osamu isn’t him so he brings his two fingers to his mouth and licks them clean; his eyes locked onto yours the entire time.

That single action is what breaks down any lingering walls that still stood between you and your boss and you rush at him planting a hungry kiss on his lips, savoring the taste of your cum still on them. He matches your fervent kiss and leads you to his bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing in your wake.

You end up on his lap with his cock buried inside your messy cunt and you see stars with every upward thrust of his hips. He latches his mouth onto a nipple and suckles on it until it’s red and throbbing before switching to the other.

“S-Samu! Ah-”

He bites down on your nipple and it’s the explosion of pain that drives you over the edge—the way your body was trained to do. Your fleshy walls convulse around his cock and cum gushes out of you coating your conjoined bodies.

“Fuck-”

Osamu curses and buries his teeth into your shoulder as hot spurts of semen shoot into your womb and fill you up to the brim. The two of you cling onto each other as the aftershocks of your orgasms subside. There’s a stinging pain coming from your breast and shoulder and you know without looking that he’s drawn blood.

But you’re used to it and at least Osamu doesn’t kick you off him and call you a filthy whore.

He eventually pulls you into bed with him but the itching need to clean yourself overwhelms you.

“We should clean ourselves up.” You suggest, pushing against his chest to no avail.

“Later,” he mumbles and tightens his hold until there’s no space between you. “How about you stay the night?”

It’s posed as a question but it’s more like a statement especially since he has no intention of letting you go. There’s a foreboding tightness in your chest but Osamu presses a loving kiss on the top of your head and you forget all about it.

You wake up to the sound of male voices but a husky voice stands out from the others. It’s a voice you know all too well because it haunts you night and day. Your blood runs cold when you realize he’s in the bedroom conversing with two other people and your heart shatters when you hear Osamu. You keep your eyes closed praying that they leave the room so you can figure something out but the conversation suddenly stops.

“I know you’re awake, Y/N.”

A cold hand sweeps a strand of your hair to the side and the nauseating smell of hand sanitizer has bile rising up your throat.

In a bout of madness, you launch a pillow at Kiyoomi Sakusa and make a break for the door. You take a couple of steps before two pairs of hands stop you. It’s Osamu and a man who looks just like him who hold you down while you struggle against them like a wild animal.

“YOU FUCKING BASTARDS! LET ME GO! LET M-”

Sakusa’s hand goes up and then there’s a loud crack followed by throbbing pain on the side of your face. Even with your blurry vision you can still make out the disgust on Sakusa’s face as he watches you cough up blood.

“It doesn’t matter how loud you are. No one will come for you.”

He crouches down in front of you and his lips twitch in amusement as you struggle against Osamu and his twin brother. Cold black eyes examine your face before his hand digs into his pocket and takes out a handkerchief.

“I thought I lost you forever, Y/N. Thankfully, Miya introduced me to his brother who just so happened to know a certain girl from Tokyo with a mysterious past.” He wipes the blood off your face and watches the fight in your eyes die out with every word he utters.

“You don’t know how worried I was when I came home and you weren’t in your room.”

Your stomach lurches when he brings his face to your head and inhales your scent the way he always did since your high school days when you didn’t think anything of it. You curse the day you ever decided to befriend Sakusa.

“You’ll have to be punished, of course, but I promised Osamu I wouldn’t be too harsh with you. After all, you’ll belong to the three of us now.”

As if on cue, Osamu presses a wet kiss on your cheek and memories of last night cause hot angry tears to stream down your face. You were foolish to trust Osamu but even more foolish to think you could ever escape you captor.

[mianavs]

half agony, half hope

“you pierce my soul. i am half agony, half hope.” - jane austen

Oikawa x f!reader, regency!au, angst, romance, hurt/comfort

for @sakeomi​’s the chosen one collab

a/n: fueled by my love for jane austen and a bridgerton binge. some regency/nobility jargon but nothing too fancy. hope you like it :)

a huuuuge thank you to @tetsunormous​ for taking the time to look this over. you’re a gem!

wc: 9k+

Peering out the small window of your family’s carriage, you couldn’t help but scowl at the ridiculously nice weather you were having en route back to the ton. The weather had also been lovely the day you left society which you took as an affirmation that you’d made the right decision in leaving. Now, you didn’t feel that same hopeful sentiment you did back then and had hoped lousy weather would delay your return, but it seemed that your luck with the weather had run out.

The sun shone brightly and was accompanied by the perfect amount of white fluffy clouds amidst a beautiful blue sky. There was a light breeze that kept your bonneted head cool enough to prevent beads of sweat from trailing down your brow, and you were also positive that Henry, your footman, was enjoying the mild weather outside on his box seat as he escorted you from your family’s country estate back to town.

You drew back the small curtain and leaned back onto your cushioned seat before picking up the stack of letters beside you and thumbing through them until you found the first of many unopened ones. Setting aside the others—all mostly from your father demanding your return—you examined all twelve letters that bore an unbroken turquoise seal and were addressed to you from Toru Oikawa. They all had a date scribbled on the bottom right corner, with the first one dating back to six months after you left town. You successfully fought off the urge to open the letters and piled them up with the others before putting them away in a wooden box—a present from your late mother.

 It was hard to believe that a year had passed since you begged your father to let you retire to the country after witnessing an immoral scene no respectable person should ever witness—let alone the fiancée of one of the perpetrators. Looking back, you could firmly say it wasn’t the shame that drove you to abandon society and your fiancé but the heart-wrenching agony you felt from seeing the man you loved with another woman.

While love matches were a rare thing between members of the aristocracy, you had truly believed yours to be one of them, and it all started from the moment you first beheld Toru.

It had been the annual debutante ball hosted by the monarchy, and you, along with a dozen other seventeen-year-old ladies, were making your debut into society. The ball was strictly for the aristocracy only, and, as a result, only members of the nobility were able to mingle with each other.

While on the surface, it was meant to start the matchmaking season by introducing the newest line-up of ladies to the ton’s eligible bachelors and their mothers, there were other activities taking place simultaneously. Racy affairs took place under a cover of darkness in hidden corners or outside in the gardens, and business deals of all sorts were struck up in gambling rooms between men as they dealt cards and downed glasses of brandy.

Of course, being the naïve debutante that you were, thoughts on the covert activities taking place were beyond you. All you could think about was keeping your head held high, back straight, and minding your step as you walked to the dais where the royal family sat, to not trip over the hem of your new silk ball gown.

After a satisfactory curtsy and subtle nods from the King and Queen, you took your place next to your father, the Count. The butterflies in your stomach settled as you watched the debutantes with better curtsies, looks, and family backgrounds get asked to dance by eligible young men. After a couple of songs, apprehension ate away at your calm demeanor as you wondered if standing at the sidelines in the balls to come would be your fate. Beside you, the Count shifted uncomfortably, and you took notice of his knitted brows as he scanned the room for someone before excusing himself and disappearing into the crowd.

Just when you’d resigned yourself to a dance-less evening and twiddled with your dance card, a pair of black boots stood before you and captured your attention. You looked up to find yourself face to face with the man that would become your fiancé—Toru Oikawa, the Duke of Seijoh.

He was everything a young man should’ve been and more. He was effortlessly charming and handsome with his velvety brown eyes that remained fixed on you throughout that evening, tousled brown locks that added to his boyish looks, and a roguish smile that never failed to take your breath away.

Toru remained by your side that entire evening. The two of you spent half of the evening dancing and the other half talking about your interests and hobbies. It didn’t take much for an innocent girl like you to fall for the first man that spared you any attention, so by the end of the evening, when Toru placed a gentle kiss on your gloved hand, you were already half in love with the man.

Toru spent a considerable amount of time wooing you during those two months prior to your engagement in your defense. He called upon your home at least three times a week, during which the two of you split your time in your drawing room conversing over tea, admiring your estate’s gardens, or promenading through the town.

It was during those times that you realized just how popular your suitor was simply from the jealous stares that ladies would send your way. At first, it was easy to ignore them, but as time went on and they grew bolder in their actions, you often found yourself biting back tears during assemblies or rejecting tea invitations to avoid subjecting yourself to their snipes.

While being the object of the Duke of Seijoh’s interest did ostracize you from the other ladies, you found that it was worth it as long as Toru’s charming smiles and warm words continued to fill your dull life with love. That was the belief you held onto up until that fateful morning when Toru arrived with flowers and an engagement ring before getting down on one knee. Besides your initial meeting at the debutante ball, the day of your engagement was the happiest day of your life, made even more special by one of the Count’s rare smiles and an albeit awkward embrace.

Unlike the fantasy you had already concocted in your mind, the reality of your engagement was disheartening to say the least. Toru stopped visiting your home altogether and avoided you at balls and other social events. While you hid away in corners, sipped on a glass of port, and made-up excuses for him, Toru fluttered about the assembly rooms chattering away with friends and dancing with ladies that never failed to mock you afterwards.

During those rare occasions when he graced you with his presence, any complaints you took up with Toru were shot down as petty jealousy. His smile would disappear from his handsome face, and his eyebrows would knit together as if you were submitting him to a torture session by just speaking with him.

“What other proof of my love do you need?” He would ask and raise your ring-clad hand for effect. “You will be my duchess and the mother of my children. That is all that should matter to you.”

You spent the majority of the fall and winter seasons planning for your wedding with only the guidance of the Marchioness of Niiyama. She had been widowed at the young age of twenty and had inherited her husband’s title, but above all, she was Toru’s childhood friend. While you found the Marchioness witty and extremely helpful when it came to wedding planning and understanding Toru, you found yourself missing your deceased mother more than ever and wondered what sort of advice she would give regarding your relationship.

The only time you saw Toru was during the Christmas celebrations and official events where the two of you were expected to attend as a couple. Other than that, you didn’t see or hear from your fiancé and spent your days wondering what went wrong while ignoring the conclusion you came to every time.

Those thoughts would continue to plague your mind until the last ball of the spring season when you decided to take a stroll in the gardens only to find Toru and the person that had been your confidante over the last couple of months—the Marchioness. Her long willowy arms were wrapped around Toru’s frame with her gloved fingers tangled in his brown locks as the two shared a lover’s kiss.

The sight was like falling into frigid waters. A numbness washed over, and you stood frozen in place while the air around you thickened until you couldn’t breathe. There was a disconnect between your body that remained still and your mind that was full of screaming thoughts demanding you move, confront them, or leave the premises altogether. It wasn’t until you locked eyes with the marchioness that the spell you were under broke, and you fled the scene with hot tears stinging your eyes.

That night was the first time you cried in front of your father since the death of your mother. It was also the first time you personally asked him for anything and, to your surprise, he acquiesced.

For the remainder of that night, the house was abuzz in preparation for your departure at dawn. You also didn’t sleep a wink that night and instead gathered all of the letters, dresses, bonnets, and gloves Toru sent and tossed them into the fire. With swollen eyes and still in your ball gown, you sat in front of the fire and watched the items you once treasured burn until the flames died out and only ashes were left.

In the end, you left for your family’s country estate before the rays of the sun peeked over the horizon but not before taking off the ring on your left hand’s fourth finger and leaving it on the windowsill of your bedchamber.

“Apologies for the delay, my lady, but we’ll be arriving in the evening.” Henry called out to you from his seat at the front.

“Thank you for letting me know, Henry.” You replied and continued to flip through the documents you’d prepared prior to leaving your country estate.

When your sorrow turned into indignation, you decided to do everything in your power to put an end to your engagement. What started as a simple letter asking your father to end things with Toru on your behalf snowballed into endless hours of research and lessons on all matters relating to your family’s properties, business ventures, and finances. The catalyst? Your father’s curt reply explaining the details of your engagement contract.

The engagement also includes a business deal the duke struck up with me that will save us from ruin. It cannot be broken off simply because you’ve fallen out of love with him. Stop this nonsense and come home immediately.

Your Father,

Now a year later, you returned with a vast amount of knowledge on your family’s businesses and the large debt accumulated from decades of bad business moves. It was a sheer miracle your family hadn’t lost your properties yet, and it was easy to see why your father had readily agreed to an engagement with someone as powerful as Toru Oikawa.

He had offered your father enough money to settle your family’s debts and then some to invest back into Seijoh’s multiple businesses. While it was a fair enough deal on the surface, you couldn’t help but wonder why Toru had chosen you. If it was purely to find a wife and gain a life-long investor, there were plenty of other families in dire situations with daughters of marriageable age that would’ve fit the bill. Whatever his reasoning, you made it your mission to find out during your inevitable encounter with him.

The tired whinny of the horses woke you from your slumber to an almost pitch-black carriage. Henry rustled outside while you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and straightened your bonnet. The door opened a moment later, and your footman greeted you with a weary smile and an extended hand.

“Welcome home, my lady.”

You took his hand and stepped down in front of your family’s estate, illuminated for the night. Although smaller than your family’s country estate, the imposing white stone building had been your family’s ancestral seat for generations and held memories that you either held near and dear to your heart or buried in the darkest corners of your mind.

“Rest well, Henry.” You said and gave your footman a small smile. “You’ve worked hard.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Henry replied with a low bow before returning to the carriage.

Turning to face your home, the front doors opened, and a blanket of light from home illuminated the pathway before you. Almost immediately, a flurry of maids exited the building and made their way to you, wearing sheepish looks and emitting a cacophony of apologies for not greeting you properly. Walking into your home surrounded by bustling maids and butlers carrying your luggage, you took a deep breath and braced yourself for the mess that awaited you.

While a year ago, the sight of hundreds of lilacs would have brought tears of joy to your eyes, the pungent fragrance of your favorite flower that filled your bedroom made you nauseous the longer you remained. You raised a handkerchief to your face and picked up one of the dozens of turquoise name cards attached to the bouquets that, sure enough, had Toru Oikawa printed in gold.

Crumpling the name card, you turned to your maids. “Get these out of my sight. The smell is making me ill.”

The maids exchanged a confused look before one of them spoke up. “But, my lady, His Grace delivered these himself—”

“I’m well aware of that fact,” you replied, tossing the crumpled name card onto a bouquet. “But I still want them taken out immediately.”

“Y-yes, my lady, right away!”

As the maids went to work, a knock on the door caught your attention, and you found the head butler standing at the door. The sight was one you were accustomed to and, wordlessly, you approached the elder man already knowing what he’d say.

“Greetings, my lady. I hope your trip wasn’t too tiring.” He said with a slight bow

“I’m assuming father wants to see me?” You replied curtly.

“Yes, Lord L/N is waiting for you in his study. Please, allow me to escort you there.”

“There is no need for that. I will see myself there.” Noticing the weary look on his wrinkled face, you softened your tone. “You may retire for the night.”

After dismissing the butler and removing your travel coat and bonnet, you made your way to your father’s study on the other side of the manor. Standing outside the study, you straightened your dress and took a deep breath before knocking once on the large mahogany door.

“Come in,” a low voice rumbled from the other side, and you opened the double doors to reunite with your father.

The Count sat at a table instead of his desk and upon closer inspection, you noticed the array of pastries accompanied by a teapot and two cups. The refreshments caught you off guard, and you stood awkwardly trying to process the situation that was unlike any of the other meetings with your father.

While you were sure some fathers excessively doted on their daughters, the Count wasn’t one of them and only grew more distant after the death of your mother. He either remained locked away in his study or went on business trips. Family dinners happened only once a month, and even then, they were stiff affairs with him asking about your education and you replying with short answers. The only semblance of affection from him came in the form of gifts with short notes delivered to you by the head butler. It was in those notes that your father would awkwardly convey his affection by congratulating you on an academic achievement or wishing you a happy birthday.

“Sit, Y/N,” the Count stated gesturing to the chair across from him. “I had them prepare this fresh for your arrival.”

“Thank you,” you replied and took a seat, settling your hands on your lap.

The Count took a sip from his cup, and when you didn’t partake of the food, he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Must you make things so complicated from the get-go?”

Any fondness you felt at the sight of your father and the display he prepared for you dissipated the moment he uttered those disgruntled words.

“I apologize if my wanting of a respectful husband complicates things for you.”

Your thinly veiled anger was somewhat of a shock to your father, who had never been on the receiving end of it. He cleared his throat and replaced his surprise with a look of disapproval.

“Whatever happened a year ago, I am certain that Oikawa has thoroughly repented. He’s been visiting me over the past six months for news of you since you never replied to his letters. He even spent the entire day waiting for your return.”

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest while a harsh, derisive laugh ripped from your throat. “Yes, I’m sure the lucrative deal the two of you made had absolutely nothing to do with his visits. Tell me, father, how much more did he offer you?”

The Count averted his gaze and lightly shook his head. “You’ve changed so much I hardly recognize you. Was his transgression so great to turn you into this?”

“I doubt whatever I say will change your mind on the matter.” You replied coldly and took a bite from a cookie. “I just hope whatever he offered didn’t affect our agreement.”

He took another sip from his tea and fixed his gaze on you, his own face undecipherable. You steeled your resolve under his scrutiny and held your breath waiting for his answer.

“If you can find another alternative, be it via marriage or not, that will provide our family with the funds needed to get us back on our feet, I will do everything in my power to annul the engagement.”

You exhaled. “Thank y-”

“But you must receive him when he comes tomorrow,” the Count concluded, setting down his teacup.

You finished your cookie and stood up. “I already planned on it. Thank you for the dessert. I shall take my leave now.”

The Count nodded his approval and you sank into a curtsey before turning your heel and leaving your father’s study. Once outside, you leaned back against the large double doors, relishing your small victory against your father.

Despite being completely worn out from the trip, you tossed and turned in bed only managing a couple hours of sleep as thoughts of Toru filled your mind. While it was relatively easy to occupy your mind with other things during the day, he was a constant figure in your head at night that  always invaded your dreams.

Toru Oikawa still resided within your heart, whether you chose to admit it or not, and your father’s revelation of his visits during your time away proved it. It had been a fleeting sensation but your heart had wavered in that moment.

By the time the sun rose over the horizon, you had already bathed, dressed, and sat on your room’s balcony nibbling on a plate of fruit. It was all you could stomach while you waited for Toru’s impending arrival.

“Would you like me to style your hair, my lady?” The outspoken maid from the day before inquired hesitantly.

Raising a hand to your hair, you considered her suggestion for a moment before deciding against it. A year ago, you would have spent all morning primping for Toru’s visit, but the situation was different now, and there was no need for elaborate hairstyles.

“That won’t be necessary.”

You’d just finished your breakfast when you heard the faint whinnies of a horse that only grew louder. Rising from your seat, you were able to make out a male figure on horseback wearing a navy-blue tailcoat that approached your home. As the gentleman drew closer, his wind-swept brown hair came to view, and that was all you needed to verify his identity.

You wrung the cloth napkin in your hands before dropping it on your plate. “It seems we have a visitor to greet.”

The reunion between you and Toru was one that you’d played out in your mind many times over the course of the year. You’d memorized impassioned speeches and even practiced storming out of the room, yet nothing could have prepared you for the torrent of emotions that washed over you the moment you stepped into the drawing room where Toru waited.

He was on his feet as soon as you entered, tugging on his silver waistcoat as his eyes swept over your form. It had only been a year yet Toru seemed to have aged five. While still handsome, his boyish looks were gone and replaced with a weariness beyond his twenty-three years. Instead of the air of confidence he once gave off, the Toru before you appeared hesitant and—dare you say it—ashamed.

It wasn’t until his brown eyes locked onto yours that a glimmer of the light that used to radiate within his orbs appeared, and you felt your legs tremble with every step you took. A ragged breath left his lips that broke into a hesitant smile before he took a step forward that turned into another until he was able to take you into his arms.

“My love,” he breathed into the crook of your neck. “You’re back.”

You couldn’t breathe or move, as he tightened his hold around you. All you could do was stand there and feel every shallow breath he took as his entire body trembled against yours. He held you with a desperation that made your chest tighten and throat close up.

“I-I thought I lost you, Y/N,” Toru murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear to you that I’ll do everything in my power to make it all up. I’ll make you the happiest woman alive and you’ll never regret giving me this second chance. Oh, my love, I’m so happy you’re back that-”

Every word he spoke was like a needle poking and prodding at you until the pain became too much and you broke free from the trance you were in. A snarl ripped through your throat and you pushed Toru away with all of your strength.

“Let. Go!”

He stumbled backwards, steadying himself with a chair, and looked back at you as if you’d struck him across the face instead of breaking free from his suffocating hold. For a moment, you almost felt guilty for rejecting him when you saw the distress in his eyes, but the memory of his betrayal resurfaced and anger took ahold of you once more.

“You’re gravely mistaken if you think I have forgiven you, Your Grace. You and the Marchioness have shamed me in the worst possible way and I refuse to submit myself to a life of misery by your side. If I am meeting you today, it is only to put an end to this engagement. I’m sure you and your lover can find another girl to fool.”

Your voice quivered and tears stung your eyes, but you kept your head held high as the words tumbled out of your mouth like water bursting from a dam.

The color drained from Toru’s face as he stared at you aghast. His mouth opened and closed a multitude of times before it settled into a thin line. He tore his eyes from you, running a hand through his hair before a defeated sigh escaped him.

“You didn’t read my letters, did you?” He asked, facing you once again with the gleam of unshed tears in his eyes.

Your throat constricted painfully but you answered him anyway. “No, I didn’t and I refuse to do so. I’ve had enough of your lies and false proclamations of love-”

“I do love you!”

Toru’s declaration came out hurried, ragged, and desperate. It reverberated off the walls of the drawing room and echoed in your ears eliciting a shallow gasp from your trembling lips.

“I fell in love with you over the course of our courtship.” He admitted, gripping the back of the chair until his knuckles turned white. “It wasn’t what I expected. You...weren’t what I expected. Before I knew it, I found myself wanting to be by your side. You’re so beautiful, intelligent, and devoted and the moments I spent with you were the happiest I’d ever been in my entire life.”

“Why me?” You asked the question that had been on your mind for months, unable to wait any longer. “Why did you pick me?”

Toru’s shoulder’s drooped and dejection replaced desperation. “Your father’s title, your family name that is as old as the royal family itself, and your financial situation were all factors that singled you out as the best candidate.”

“Did…the Marchioness have any say in the matter?” Your voice was so quiet it wouldn’t have surprised you if he hadn’t heard it at all. There was a long silence and all you could hear was the drumming of your heart against your chest. Just when you were about to repeat the question, Toru spoke.

“She was the one that brought up your name.”

His words were like a slap to your face.

“Leave! At once! I cannot stand being in the same room with you.” You glared daggers at the man not caring if he was a duke and you the daughter of a mere count.

“Please allow me to explain the situation! It’s not what you think—”

“There is nothing to explain, Your Grace. Our relationship is over and if you don’t annul our engagement then I will find a way to do it myself.”

Your threat washed away the obstinacy in Toru’s eyes and a haunting hollow look glossed over them. His hand released the chair he’d been holding onto for the majority of your encounter, and he dragged his feet towards the door.

He surprised you by stopping beside you, and for a moment, you believed he would take you into his arms once again and beg you to forgive him. Only, he didn’t.

“Read the letters I sent you. They contain everything I’ve ever wanted to tell you. Only then will I agree to put an end to our engagement.”

His words haunted you throughout the day up until the evening when you sat at your desk and traced the turquoise seal on one of Toru’s letters. It would have been so easy to break the seals and read through the letters but the thought of falling prey to his pretty words stopped you.

The following morning, the plan to end your engagement and save your family from ruin started with a package from the investigator you hired back in the country. Within it you pulled out pages and pages of information on all of the families of the aristocracy. The reports included the names and ages of the members, the business endeavors of each of the families, and the properties they owned. Other details were also included like their financial status, list of acquaintances, and town gossip.

Over the course of a week, you were able to go through each report and compile a list of potential families you could strike up a deal with. The longer you delved into the background of every family on that list, the shorter said list became until one last name stood out amongst the rest—Kageyama.

According to the report, Viscount Kageyama had been successful in his business endeavors over the last couple of years and it was all thanks to his prodigal son. At the young age of twenty-one, Tobio Kageyama was racking up accomplishments left and right with no sign of slowing down. With a military background like his father, he was an excellent athlete and hunter and won almost all of the competitions he participated in. It was his eye for business ventures and investments, however, that caught your attention and made him a possible marriage candidate.

Over the past three years, he’d managed to turn his family’s failing businesses into prosperous ones and used those profits to invest in other groundbreaking ventures. That was the sort of advice you and your father needed to turn your debts into profits and it just so happened that Tobio wasn’t engaged to anyone.

You found that odd.

For a young man of his age with an acceptable family background and a natural talent for business to be without a fiancée was unheard of. The mothers of society would never let a man like him slip past their radars so you sought to find out why.

Rummaging through his family’s report, you searched for the list of acquaintances hoping to find a mutual one that might give you more information on him. Your eyes stopped on a last name that you’d recognized from an invitation to a tea party that would take place in two days’ time.

Turning away from the document, you called out to the outspoken maid that always seemed to be in the room when you needed her. “What is your name?”

“It is Akane, my lady.” She replied with a deep curtsey. “How can I be of service?”

You smiled, thoroughly pleased with how quick-witted she was. “Send word to the Yachi estate letting them know I will be attending Lady Hitoka’s tea party.”

Akane’s eyes flitted to the table then back to you before a small smile played on her lips. “Right away, my lady.”

Hitoka Yachi was somewhat of an outcast in polite society despite her caring and gentle personality. Her mother was an outspoken countess in her own right that had married for love and, and as a result, Hitoka was an heiress—something that was frowned upon by most. The two of you had bonded over the fact that you both had lost a parent at a young age; she had lost her father and you’d lost your mother.

Over the course of the year, you’d exchanged a letter here and there with Hitoka, and she’d been kind enough to reach out when you returned. While you initially hadn’t planned on attending social events until you’d broken your engagement, you figured rekindling your relationship with Hitoka while garnering information on her friend, Tobio, wouldn’t be too bad.

The day of the tea party, you dressed in a simple cotton dress with small flowers printed on the fabric and had Akane sweep your hair into a simple updo. Since the death of your mother, maids had come and gone under the head maid’s strict supervision, but none of them had stood out like Akane. You found her a smart and observant girl that worked as your eyes and ears around the estate. For that reason, you decided to keep her close and had her accompany you during your outing.

The Yachi’s manor was located in the outskirts of town and gave off the appearance of a large country home while less than an hour away from town. It was a beautiful home surrounded by gardens that, in the spring, bloomed exquisite flowers of all shapes, shades, and sizes.

You were escorted to the rose garden by one of the manor’s butlers where Hitoka and another young woman were already seated at a table filled to the edge with pastries, bite-sized sandwiches, fruits, and a porcelain teapot with matching cups and saucers.

“Y/N!” Hitoka exclaimed and leapt to feet and took your hands into hers. “Oh, it’s been far too long!”

“It’s nice to see you again, Hitoka,” you replied earnestly. “Thank you for your wonderful letters this past year. They were a great comfort to me.”

A pretty blush dusted her cheeks. “I’m glad my silly letters had such a wonderful effect.”

She drew you to the table where her other guest was standing by. Upon closer inspection, the young woman’s distinct black shining hair and stormy blue eyes triggered your memory and her name resurfaced just as Hitoka introduced you.

“Kiyoko, this Y/N L/N.” Hitoka said, gesturing to you. “Y/N, this is Kiyoko Sawamura.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Kiyoko.”

“Likewise, Lady Y/N.” She replied, her voice quiet but firm.

The three of you took your seats and Hitoka took the lead in the conversation cluing you in on what they’d been discussing. You caught a couple of words here and there but your main focus was on the woman to your left.

Three years ago at her debut, Kiyoko Sawamura had been declared a diamond of the first water by the Queen herself and had caused quite a stir amongst all of the eligible bachelors at the time. As the only daughter of the Duke of Karasuno, not only was she stunningly gorgeous but she came from a noble family whose wealth and power surpassed even that of the Oikawa’s. Her engagement to Yuji Terushima, heir to the Marquess of Johzenji, had been the announcement of the year—at least until the annulment three months later.

Rumors ran rampant that summer over what had actually happened but they all lead back to a cheating scandal involving Yuji and a maid from his household. Of course, Kiyoko faced the brunt of the ordeal since Yuji fled society like a coward along with his maid who ended up pregnant with his child, but she never succumbed to the pressure and kept her head held high with the support of her family. The last piece of gossip you’d heard regarding Kiyoko was that she’d found love with the son of Baron Tanaka.

To say you admired the woman was an understatement; she was everything you wanted to be but never could. Where she had braved society, you had fled to the country for a year like a coward.

Hitoka’s cheery voice broke through your cloud of dark thoughts. “…he’s been trying to get Tobio to attend more social events for the past two years, and he finally succeeded! Tobio will be attending Viscount Udai’s ball this Saturday.”

“I told you if anyone would be able to convince him it would be Shoyo. After all, they are best friends whether they admit it or not,” Kiyoko replied before taking a sip of her tea.

“Tobio Kageyama will be attending a ball?” You muttered, mostly to yourself but Hitoka heard you and responded.

“Yes! Are you acquainted with him, Y/N?”

“No, I am not,” you admitted sheepishly and made up an excuse on the spot. “My father mentioned him the other day and spoke of his achievements.”

“He is very talented when it comes to making money, but I just wish he would let people see the other sides of him. He’s actually a kind person underneath his gruff exterior,” Hitoka lamented before changing the course of the conversation.

“Will you also be attending the ball with His Grace?”

You plastered a smile on your face and prayed it looked genuine. “I’m not sure if Toru will be able to attend but I certainly plan on it.”

Despite your relationship with Hitoka, the real reason behind your leave wasn’t something you disclosed to her or anyone else for that matter. You had already dealt with enough ridicule from being Toru’s slighted fiancée and had no desire to add more fuel to the fire by revealing the details behind his betrayal.

“He must be awfully busy these days. It’s been months since he has attended any large social gatherings.”

Your friend’s revelation was shocking to say the least, and the smile on your face faltered. Kiyoko’s sharp gaze immediately zeroed in on your face, but her scrutiny only lasted a second before it was gone.

“Ruling over a duchy is no easy feat. My father is very strict with my brother’s education.”

“Oh, how is Daichi these days? I saw Yui the other day at the modiste and…”

Hitoka’s chatter faded into the background and her revelation of Toru’s absence in society echoed in your head. You had expected Toru to take advantage of your absence to the fullest and yet he hadn’t. A single thought amidst the storm in your mind stood out amongst the rest, and your heart wavered.

Maybe he’s truly become a changed man.

And yet, the cursed image that had been branded in your mind returned and dashed away that hopeful thought, replacing it with a more cynical one.

Or maybe he’s just showing his devotion to his true love, the Marchioness.

For the remainder of the gathering, your mind continued to drift to and from the conversation until the refreshments were cleared and the sun began to set. After bidding the ladies farewell, you returned to your carriage with Akane following closely behind you.

“Akane, do we still have some of the tea leaves I brought with me from the country?”

“Yes, my lady. I daresay there is enough to give away.” Akane replied and you smiled before turning to face your perceptive maid and ally.

“Good. Have some packed and sent to Lady Hitoka and Lady Kiyoko.” You paused before adding, “and save some for yourself. You’ve earned it.”

While you could have easily waited until the Viscount’s ball to be introduced to Tobio, time was of the essence and you needed to set your plan in motion prior to meeting him. If everything went as planned and Tobio proved to be receptive to an agreement—be it one of marriage or not—then the ball would be the perfect place to present your terms and come to a verbal agreement.

With that in mind, you started drafting a letter to Tobio introducing yourself as Hitoka’s friend and provided him with a brief outline of what you wanted, offered, and how it would benefit him and his family. You reread the letter thrice and debated including the possibility of a marriage between the two of you. From what you’d gathered, Tobio Kageyama was a straightforward man that valued honesty, so you added it in while making it clear that it would be one of mutual respect. You knew it was risky sending a letter to a man who was no better than a stranger but it was a risk you were willing to take.

The couple of days prior to the ball you spent preoccupying your mind with business and family matters to steer your mind away from Tobio’s pending reply. It wasn’t until a day before the ball that Akane interrupted you to bring you your correspondence. There was a sealed letter and one short message that you picked up and read without a second thought.

 I will not ask to escort you to Viscount Udai’s ball as I do not deserve that honor. I only ask that you not deny me the first dance as your fiancé.

Yours,

Toru

 As much as you dreaded the idea of being in the same social function as Toru, let alone dancing with him, you had appearances to keep up and would have to permit it for propriety’s sake. You tried not to dwell too much on his intimate farewell address and shifted your gaze to the sealed letter, which upon closer inspection, had the Kageyama family crest pressed into the navy-blue wax. With trembling fingers, you broke the seal and unfolded the paper, ever eager to read its contents.

 Lady Y/N,

I was very surprised when I read your letter simply because I did not know who you were. Now that I am more familiar with you and your family, I am interested in your offer and would like to speak with you more at Viscount Udai’s gathering.

Until then,

Tobio Kageyama

 A sigh of relief left your lips. Your gamble had paid off and Tobio was considering your offer. If you played your cards right during your meeting then it would only be a matter of time before you would be free of Toru Oikawa while saving your family.

Your eyes stole a glance at Toru’s note. While you should have tossed the note into the fire, your fingers ran over the dry ink until they stopped at the word before his name. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you took his note and placed it inside the wooden box that contained his other letters.

According to Akane, Viscount Udai’s ball was rumored to be the grandest event of the season and when you stepped out of your carriage with Henry’s help and peered up at the bustling and glowing manor, you found no fault in her statement.

The ballroom was brightly illuminated with chandeliers of glass. Curtains and elaborate tapestries of white and gold lined the walls. White flowers of all sorts hung from the ceilings, lined the doors, and wrapped around columns. The room was something out of a fairytale and the people that filled it had all dressed the part. Glancing around the room, you searched for a familiar face only to hear your name called.

“Y/N!”

Hitoka stood on the other side of the ballroom surrounded by Kiyoko and other gentlemen you didn’t recognize. One of the gentlemen turned his head in your direction and stopped when he saw you. Approaching the small party, your attention remained fixed on the man whose midnight blue eyes were glued to your face with an intensity that unnerved you.

Hitoka’s gloved hands reached out to yours and drew you into the circle of people. Now facing the gentleman, his gaze softened slightly before it shifted to Hitoka.

“Y/N, this is Tobio Kageyama. He’s the man I was telling you about the other day.”

Hitoka’s hand patted Tobio’s upper arm before addressing him. “Tobio, this is Y/N L/N. She’s the friend that just arrived from the country.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord.” You replied demurely and sank into a curtsey.

“Likewise, my lady.” Tobio’s reply was stiff but his bow was even stiffer and earned him an elbow to the ribs from the shorter man beside him.

Introductions to the other two gentlemen were made and you learned that the shorter man next to Tobio was none other than Shoyo Hinata, a famous jockey and son of a Baron. The man with a roguish grin next to Kiyoko turned out to be her fiancée, Ryunosuke Tanaka.

At that moment, the musicians took their seats and readied their instruments while the room exploded with young men and women finding their partners for the first dance. Your eyes swept over the room in a cursory glance, and to your relief, Toru was nowhere to be found.

Kiyoko and her fiancée left to the dance floor first. They were soon followed by Shoyo and Hitoka but not before the former shot Tobio a pointed look and gestured over to you with a tilt of his head. You found the jockey’s not-so-subtle indication amusing but played off having seen anything. Tobio cleared his throat and you turned your head to face him.

“May I have this dance, my—”

“No, you may not.”

Toru’s voice rang out from behind you. It had a hard-edged quality to it that you’d never heard and sent shivers down your spine. Before you could turn around, his hands settled on your hip and hand. The intimacy of the gesture left you stunned and unable to reject him.

“My fiancée has already promised me her first dance.”

Toru’s warm breath tickled your exposed neck and set your face aflame. Tobio shifted his weight and the action garnered your attention. His brow was furrowed as his eyes searched yours for an explanation you couldn’t give him.

Still in your stupor, Toru drew you away to the dance floor. You opened your mouth to say something but the music started and the couples around you bowed and curtseyed in greeting before they began to move.

The muted chatter around you, the soft music in the background, and Toru’s eyes, darker than usual, drinking in your appearance left you speechless. He looked as handsome as ever in his black tailcoat, golden waistcoat, tousled chocolate brown locks, straight nose, and a pink inviting mouth. Completely mesmerized by him, any ill-will you bore him became non-existent. You drowned in his dangerous pools of brown that disarmed you and left you bare. His touch burned through the fabric of your dress and gloves, branding you with his hands.

It was like the first time you ever danced with him only it wasn’t. Where butterflies had once fluttered about in your stomach, waves of something now swirled within you and pooled at your core. It was terrifying and yet you wanted more. So when the piece came to an end and Toru’s ragged breath fanned on your face, you tilted your head hoping he would close the gap.

Except he didn’t. You didn’t let him because across the room was the face of the last person you wanted to see—the Marchioness.

Her face held no malice as she watched you but she looked almost relieved and it shook you to your core.

“My love.” Toru’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “W-what is it?”

You didn’t answer him. Your eyes remained fixed on the marchioness. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly before turning towards one of the doors. She took three steps before turning back to face you and then she continued until she disappeared from the ballroom.

Toru reached for your hand but you side-stepped him and dashed out of the room; your name blending in with the music and chatter the further you got.

The corridors were dimly lit compared to the ballroom but you could still make out the marchioness’s silhouette in the distance. Her pale face turned to you before walking further away and entering a room. You bounded down the hallway until you reached the room and found the marchioness standing before a large French window. The room was dark except for the moonlight that spilled in and illuminated the center of the room.

“Close the door.”

You hesitated before reaching for the double doors and pushing them until you heard a click. Turning around you found the marchioness already watching you. She was as beautiful as ever with her porcelain skin, golden curls styled fashionably, and rosebud mouth. Her cat-like eyes softened in a way you’d never seen before—not even when she pretended to be your friend and ally.

“Why did you appear before me? What do you want?”

“Technically you appeared before me. This is my home after all,” She replied, a hint of mirth in her voice.

You staggered back. “W-what do you mean?”

“I remarried and am now Viscountess Udai.”

“I-I don’t…why?” Your feet took you forward until you were an arm’s length away from her. “What about Toru? I saw you with him…the two of you…that day.”

She sighed and turned her head, fixing her eyes on the wooden desk beside her. “That is the reason I had you follow me here. It’s high time I confess my sins to you.”

Her eyes looked back at you and the whirlwind of emotions swirling in them left you stunned. In the months you got to know her you knew her to be a charming but cold woman, so seeing her so vulnerable shook you to your core.

“Since I was a girl, I had always envied Toru. He had two parents that adored him and did everything in their power to ensure his happiness. My parents were the exact opposite and sold me off to the highest bidder when I was just sixteen. My late husband was a beast of a man that was forty years my senior. He had poor health but an even worse temper and wouldn’t hesitate to beat me until I passed out from the pain. It was then that Toru lost his parents in an accident, and I started to use him to make myself feel better. I tried manipulating him into thinking I was the only person who could be by his side. That I could be his friend, lover, and family. It worked for a while but when Toru started drifting away from my hold…”

Her voice that had been growing thicker with emotion broke down. Sobs wracked from her body as she slipped off her black lace glove. Under the moonlight you could make out pale scars on the underside of her forearm.

“I started to hurt myself and that kept him by my side until he met you.”

Your chest tightened painfully and tears stung your eyes but you didn’t let them fall.

“He needed a wife to fulfil his mother’s wish and I picked you for him. I believed he would remain loyal to me, but I was wrong. Day by day, Toru fell more in love with you and left me behind. When he received your father’s blessing to officially propose, I was so desperate to hold on to him that I lied to him. I promised to let him go after your marriage if he neglected you during your engagement. But that night in the garden, he declared his unyielding love for you, and I did everything I could to kill that love.”

She wiped away her tears while you let yours fall. She took a couple of deep breaths whereas a ball lodged itself inside your throat and blocked the air.

“I dare not ask for forgiveness. I only ask that you not blame Toru for my sins.”

Unable to utter a word, you managed a solemn nod before turning your heel and leaving the room. The darkness of the corridor left you hollow, the noise from the ballroom rang painfully in your ears, and the air around you was stifling. Everything about the place was suffocating, so instead of returning to the ball, you rounded the corner and left.

Upon exiting your carriage, you ignored everyone and bounded up the stairs to your bedroom before locking the door and forbidding entry for anyone. Heaving from the exertion, you lunged for the wooden box on your nightstand and set it on your desk with a thud. After taking a seat, you lit a candlestick and took out the first of twelve letters.

With trembling hands, you finally broke the turquoise seal and unfolded the paper to read Toru’s side of the story.

After you read the letters once, you sobbed into your hands until the candlestick burned out. You reread them and cursed yourself for being so oblivious—so blind—to the pain in his heart. The third time, your heart swelled with affection for your father who did everything he could to ensure you would be happy with Toru prior to allowing the proposal to take place. The fourth time, you pulled out a piece of paper and wrote to Tobio rescinding your offer and offering your most sincere apologies. By the time you finished rereading the twelfth letter for the fifth time, the birds outside were chirping signaling dawn.

You stood up abruptly and glanced out the window to find the rose-colored light of the sun’s rays peeking over the horizon.

I have to see him.

After washing your face, you discarded your ball gown in favor of a simple cotton dress and a woolen shawl. You picked up the letter addressed to Tobio and opened the door.

Akane, who had evidently been sleeping at your door, tumbled backwards and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Oh! A-apologies, my lady, but I waited to see if you needed anything and…”

You crouched down and helped the girl up to her feet. “Thank you, Akane, for everything you do. You are my most treasured ally.”

Her caramel-colored eyes welled up with tears that she wiped away with her sleeve. “H-how can I help you, my lady?”

You handed her the letter. “Have this sent to the Kageyama estate as soon as possible. Also let my father know that I will not be cancelling my engagement.”

Akane’s eyes lingered on your coat and a smile played on her lips as she replied, “right away, my lady.”

Outside the confines of your home, you breathed in the cool morning air and bolted down the white stone steps, setting off for Toru’s estate. Trudging through the grass and kicking up the rocks of your front lawn, you were full of energy despite not having slept a wink. The negative emotions that had weighed you down since your engagement were lifted and all you could think about was Toru. You wanted to drink in the sight of him, touch his face, run your fingers through his hair, and wrap your arms around him never to let go.

Your front gate eventually came to view, but before that, the backside of a man standing near your family’s fountain appeared and your breath caught in your throat.

Tall, broad shoulders underneath a black coat, and wind-swept brown hair, you knew who it was before he turned around.

Toru’s velvet brown eyes widened and his lips parted at the sight of you. He looked perfectly disheveled in his plain white shirt, unbuttoned, and exposing his chest, and grey trousers that looked like they’d seen better days. Like a moth to a flame, you drew closer until he was in front of you.

“I-I had to see you,” he admitted. “You disappeared from the ball and—”

“She told me…what actually happened.”

His eyes widened. “I must tell you—”

You reached for his hands, not able to hold back any longer. “You already have.” You brushed your thumbs against his knuckles and felt his pulse quicken. “I read your letters…multiple times.”

“I’m sorry, truly,” he breathed.

“I know, and I’m sorry as well. I should’ve given you a chance to explain. I should’ve read them sooner.” You released his hands and stared into his eyes, lips trembling. “If I’m too late an—”

His mouth descended upon yours in a kiss that silenced the words on your tongue. His oh-so- soft lips felt like satin on yours and you melted into his arms that wrapped around you and drew you closer to him. The swirling heat in your core returned and you wrapped your arms around his back, eager to see where the sensation led you.

Toru broke away from the kiss first, leaning his forehead against yours and taking in shallow ragged breaths. A whine escaped your lips and the embarrassing noise set your cheeks aflame. Toru laughed and pressed a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Patience, my love. We have the rest of our lives for this.” He assured you and drew you into a loving embrace.

His sweet words sounded like a promise to your ears and tears of joy prickled your eyes from simply imagining your future with Toru, the man you loved and had never stopped loving.

[mianavs]

Gezellig

You were the warmth that only another person could give

Kenma x f!reader

a/n: kenma is definitely my comfort character~

wc: 1.8k

It started with an apple pie recipe.

Kenma was editing his latest play-through video for a new video game when the craving for his favorite food creeped up on him again. He considered going to the nearby bakery that sold decent mini apple pies but a glance at the clock on his computer put an end to that idea—it was midnight and the bakery had been closed for three hours.

Normally Kenma would have settled for the day old pastry on his kitchen table but the craving for apple pie had plagued him for a while now. The reason? His neighbor had baked one a couple days ago and Kenma couldn’t stop thinking about the delicious aroma that had seeped through the walls into his unit.

A hasty thought crossed Kenma’s mind and he got up from his gaming chair to wander into the kitchen. He scanned the counters until his eyes landed on the two large apples Kuroo dropped off along with other groceries Kenma let spoil more often than not. The presence of the main ingredient spurred his impulses and Kenma fell back onto his couch as he scrolled through YouTube for an easy apple pie recipe. His perceptive eyes were immediately drawn to the golden crust of the pie on your thumbnail and his fingers clicked on your video without a second thought.

In the end, Kenma never got to making the apple pie and instead binge-watched every video on your ASMR cooking channel until he passed out at five in the morning.

Kenma knew he was obsessed when he turned on the notification bell on your channel. He loved the simplicity of your videos. There wasn’t any cheesy background music or obnoxious text. Your videos were intimate and comforting with the natural sounds of your cooking or baking and the high-quality recordings. More often than not, Kenma found himself unwinding to your content after a stressful meeting with the board members or a difficult gaming session. In fact, the more he watched your videos the more he found himself closing his eyes and imagining himself in your kitchen listening to the sizzling of the sautéing vegetables or the whir of your mixer combining the ingredients of a cake. It wasn’t necessarily hard to do since the layout of your kitchen was very similar to his own.

He should have found it suspicious when his neighbor’s cooking seemed to predict the video you would upload next but Kenma wasn’t one to dwell on unnecessary things like that. So when his neighbor cooked a delicious smelling recipe, Kenma would crave it the next day and ordered it to eat while he watched your nimble hands cook a similar dish.

In the two years Kenma had lived in his unit, he’d never crossed paths with his foodie neighbor. Although considering his line of work, Kenma supposed it wasn’t too surprising. He spent most of his time in his office and only when out when necessary. So when his doorbell rang and it wasn’t Kuroo with groceries or takeout but a young woman with a sheepish look on her face, Kenma froze like a deer in headlights.

“Hi! Umm…I’m your neighbor,” she introduced herself and awkwardly held up a small bowl. “Do you have some salt I can borrow?”

“Uh…yeah, come in.” Kenma replied stepping aside to let her in. There was a softness about her demeaner that drew him in and it wasn’t until her eyes blinked at him in confusion that he realized he’d been staring.

“T-this way.”

As Kenma led his neighbor to the kitchen he wracked his brain for the location of the salt container Kuroo had bought for him to use despite never having cooked a meal in his life. It took a couple of tries flipping through cupboards before he found the large salt container and handed it to his neighbor.

“Thanks!” She accepted it and began pouring some into her bowl. “Y’know your kitchen is a lot like mine but way cleaner!”

“I don’t really use it,” Kenma admitted. “I find it kind of intimidating…cooking.”

“It is at first but it gets easier the more you do it.” She smiled as she handed the salt back to Kenma and he couldn’t help but admire the way her entire face seemed to smile. Her eyes crinkled into crescent moons while the apples of her cheeks framed her gummy smile endearingly.

“I guess that applies to a lot of things.”

“Yes, it really does! I’m a firm believer in practice makes perfect.”

With that she thanked Kenma profusely and apologized for the intrusion before slipping on her shoes and walking out the door. While it may have only been a few minutes, the impression she left on Kenma lasted much longer. He went outside more just so he could run into his nice neighbor who would always strike up a conversation with him about anything. And while he was normally not one for small talk, it never felt forced around her. She had a knack for making even the dullest subject a compelling topic and Kenma quickly looked forward to those moments outside their apartment complex, in front of the convenience store, or outside her unit.

But even those short conversations Kenma has with his neighbor reveal very little about her. So when Kenma gets a notification from your channel and opens YouTube, he drops his phone when your thumbnail picture isn’t food but rather his neighbor that he’d grown fond of. Kenma’s eyes dart to your shared wall as he comes to terms with the fact that his favorite content creator and his pretty neighbor are the same person. It takes a couple of minutes for the initial shock to pass and another twenty minutes for him to play the video in the comfort of his office and with his headset on.

You’re all smiles as you announce a giveaway to celebrate one-hundred thousand subscribers. You introduce each of the five prizes and explain each one in detail. They’re all cooking tools from one of your sponsors that Kenma recognizes from your previous videos. When you’re describing the rules to enter, the similarities between your apartment and his are glaringly obvious now and Kenma can only shake his head in disbelief. The video ends too quickly so he watches it another ten times almost convincing himself that it’s to understand the rules of the giveaway and consider each of the products despite knowing he’d never actually enter.

A week after your giveaway video, Kuroo comes over with food and drinks after a business trip. A meal and a couple of beers later, Kenma opens up to Kuroo about you and the fact that you’re not only his favorite YouTuber but his neighbor as well. The liquid courage spurs him on and Kenma talks about your gorgeous smile, soft-looking hair, and your laugh that goes from a giggle to a cackle within a matter of seconds. Always the observant friend, Kuroo notices the persistent smile on Kenma’s face as he goes on about you and urges his best friend to ask you out on a date. The thought of spending hours with you is enough to get his heart racing but his insecurities never fail to rear their ugly heads and Kenma dismisses the idea as quickly as it comes up.

Kenma drinks even more to drown his insecurities and fantasies of you while Kuroo drinks with him knowing it’s best to support him quietly like this. When the last drop of alcohol is consumed, the two friends are completely drunk and Kuroo crashes in the guest room while Kenma stumbles to his room and collapses on his bed as the world spins around him.

Your image comes to mind but it’s too hazy for Kenma’s liking so he pulls up your giveaway video and watches it for the hundredth time. You’re so happy about your channel’s milestone that Kenma can’t help but smile like a fool as you thank your subscribers profusely. It’s with lowered inhibitions that Kenma is able to scroll to the comment section and write out how much your channel means to him.

The sound of multiple notifications stirs Kenma awake to a terrible hangover. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and focuses on his blindingly bright screen to see what the fuss is about. There’s a message from his publicist asking if he’s okay but before Kenma can reply he gets a notification from your channel; however, it isn’t the typical one that lets him know you’ve uploaded a video. The notification is a heart reaction to a comment and Kenma’s heart is in his mouth as his shaky finger taps on your giveaway video.

He doesn’t have to scroll far to find his comment because it’s the first one with ten thousand likes and three hundred comments to boot. Completely mortified, Kenma reads through the comments that have a wide range of reactions. Some gush about how cute it is for Kodzuken to fanboy over your channel while others express their disappointment that their favorite gamer actually likes cooking ASMR. While they are unnerving, it isn’t the comments that worry Kenma but the little red heart you’d left on his comment.

While he doubts you knew who he was before, this comment and the crazy feedback will definitely pique your interest enough to look him up and find out who he really is. Scared of facing you, Kenma holes himself up in his apartment. To get you out of his mind, he buries himself in work and video game streams and turns off the notifications for your channel.

After a week of not hearing anything from you, Kenma thinks he’s in the clear until one evening he opens his door expecting his takeout only to find you.

You’re a sight for sore eyes and Kenma’s heart hammers in his chest as your eyes soften and you break into a smile. The aroma of cinnamon and apples wafts up to his nostrils and you raise your mitted hands to reveal the same pie that had drawn him to you in the first place.

“Your fans mentioned you like apple pie,” you explain with a chuckle. “And I still owe you for the salt.”

“My…fans?” Kenma asks, still stunned you’re talking to him despite the comment fiasco.

“Yeah, you see I needed a reason to visit my neighbor and ask him out. Luckily, he’s a famous streamer with lots of fans.” Your confidence almost hides flush on your cheeks that deepens the longer Kenma stares at you in shock.

“…Unless you don’t want to go out-“

“I do!” Kenma blurts out. “More than anything.”

Your entire face breaks into a smile. “Well then how about a pie date?”

With a stomach full of butterflies, Kenma lets you into his apartment for the second time only this time he knows what he feels for you and is comforted by the fact that you feel the same way.

[mianavs]

Queen of Peace

Oh, the king / Gone mad within his suffering / Called out for relief / Someone cure him of his grief

His only son / Cut down, but the battle won / Oh, what is it worth / When all that's left is hurt

“Queen of Peace” by: Florence + The Machine

knight!Osamu x queen!reader, royalty/historical au, forbidden love

tw: smut, oral (f!receiving), breeding, angst (of course)

a/n: a super self-indulgent fic inspired by the aforementioned song, a fanart of knight!osamu i reblogged a while back, and my undying love for historical fiction; tagging: @hqintheclub​

ty: all my love to @rosesandtoshi @oneblonded​ and @liaslight​ for taking the time to beta read this!

wc: 6.3k+

bg: Kingdoms are named after regions in Japan (ones mentioned to are Chubu, Tohoku, Kanto, and Kansai). These kingdoms are then divided into provinces which are named after Japanese prefectures (Hyogo). Haikyuu schools are used as titles of nobility (Duke of Fukurodani, Marquess of Itachiyama)

The roar of the blowing horn broke you out of your trance; it’s thunderous cry signaled the arrival of the King and his soldiers. Your heart swelled with relief, and you swiftly set aside your needlework before leaving your rooms to greet them. Your ladies, who sat around you in a semicircle with their own needlework, mimicked your movements and fell in line behind you as you exited door after door before finally reaching the main corridor.

“Don’t you wish to change into a different gown, Your Majesty?”

You paused at the sudden inquiry from one of your ladies and glanced down at your simple black gown. “We are still in mourning. This gown is more than appropriate.”

You resumed your trek to greet the King leaving the other ladies who took it upon themselves to reprimand the one that had interrupted you. While you would never show it, you were relieved that you still had some semblance of control over your ladies despite your unpopularity amongst the courtiers. An unpopularity that had plagued you ever since you left Hyogo five years ago by order of the Kansai King to marry the widowed King of Kanto.

With each step you took, unease swirled in your navel and your throat tightened. It’d been a long war against the neighboring Chubu kingdom. One that had taken their king and your kingdom’s heir.

Prince Shoyo had been the King’s only child by his beloved first wife, a Tohoku princess, and his pride and joy. Nicknamed the ‘Kingdom’s Sun’, he had been admired by his peers, respected by the Council, and loved by the people. Even you, his stepmother despite being of age, had found comfort in the amiable prince who had never treated you unkindly. The news of his death had sent the kingdom into a panic and the courtier’s scrutinizing eyes once again fell on your stomach that had yet to swell with child.

“My Queen, are ya unwell?”

The turbulent thoughts that had clouded your mind the entire way to the palace’s front entrance cleared the moment that rich accented voice resonated in the foyer. There in the middle stood your childhood friend and sworn sword that had made the journey to a foreign kingdom without you asking, Osamu Miya.

You instinctively gravitated toward him as if tethered to his armor by an invisible string that pulled you closer, until he was just an arm’s length away. His thick brows knitted together and a frown was etched on his face as he studied yours. You offered him a small smile that might’ve fooled anyone else but not Osamu who knew you better than anyone. He pursed his lips but, nonetheless, went down on one knee, took your hand, and pressed a chaste kiss on the back of it. The warmth that radiated off of his touch and kiss spread like honey over your heart and soothed your nerves.

“I am fine,” you replied when Osamu rose to his feet and took his place on your left. “We should go. The King must not be kept waiting.”

Beneath your grief over the loss of Shoyo, there had been a flicker of hope for a renaissance in your marriage; your already precarious position depended on it. If you could only give the King an heir, then you wouldn’t be seen as the useless foreign queen anymore.

So when you steeled yourself against the autumn chill and saw the King’s banners billowing in the wind, you were determined to lie with your husband for the first time since your wedding night. Even when the old King struggled to dismount his horse, cursed his bad leg, hobbled over to you, and patted your head with the affection usually reserved for a daughter instead of a wife, you plastered a warm smile on your face while your hands fisted the skirts of your dress in frustration.

“Welcome home, My King,” you greeted with your deepest curtsy. “A humble feast is being prepared to celebrate your return. The official mourning processions will begin tomorrow.”

At the mention of mourning, the King’s mouth set into a hard line while his eyes glazed over. “You have worked hard, Y/N. Thank you.”

“Your Majesty is too kind. I am merely doing my duty.”

The King’s greying brow furrowed at your mention of duty before nodding once. “Of course. I am afraid my leg will not let me attend the feast, but I trust you will be there in my stead.”

“You can rest assured that I will be the most gracious host, My King.” You replied, hiding your disappointment over the news of his absence. Like all things involving you, the King was oblivious and continued his labored tread to the palace.

It was only when the King was outside of your field of view that Osamu, steadfast and true, asked after your well-being.

“Are ya alright, My Queen?”

You could feel his steel grey eyes burning the side of your face but kept your gaze fixed on the King’s ghostly trail.

“Of course,” you replied but neither of you believed it.

The welcome feast went by as you’d expected. The war-weary soldiers ate and drank their fill but there was none of the merriment and banter that usually filled the dining hall. The King and Prince’s absence weighed heavily on everyone’s mind including yours, so any conversations that took place were done in hushed voices that didn’t travel beyond its participants.

Yet it seemed that even the soldiers fresh from battle and with a plethora of personal issues already plaguing them had enough time to worry over the lack of an heir. Their eyes occasionally flickered over to your empty womb with varying degrees of concern and disappointment. When they became too into their cups and their stares more shameless, you wiped your mouth and excused yourself from the feast to a chorus of half-hearted ‘goodnights’.

Even in your rooms with your ladies readying you for bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about the burdening stares of the feast. So after your ladies finished and excused themselves for the night, you wrapped yourself in a thick robe and made your way to the King’s chambers on the other side of the palace.

Heavy footsteps echoed against the stone floors and you didn’t need to look back to know who it was.

“I do not need an escort, Sir Osamu.”

“It’s late, My Queen. Ya shouldn’t go off wandering by yourself even if it’s to see the King.” Osamu retorted, disapproval lacing his words.

You turned around to face him. “I am trying to do my duty.” You informed him and fixed him with a hard stare.

“So am I,” he declared and moved closer until you saw the determination and something else reflecting off his grey orbs. You knew better than to argue with Osamu when he was being stubborn, so you let out a defeated sigh and resumed your walk to the King’s chambers with your knight in tow.

The two guards outside the King’s door announced you before the King gave his approval. The large mahogany door opened and you walked in, ignoring the knowing stares of Osamu and the other two. You knew your bold actions were improper, but you were done waiting for the King to make the first move. Strengthening your resolve as you walked through the antechamber, you straightened your back and took a deep breath before entering the King’s bedchamber.

The room was dimly lit while the stench of liquor and medicinal herbs permeated the air. You spotted the king sitting at his breakfast table; one hand around an empty glass and the other buried in his thinning locks of hair. As you made your way to him, the moonlight shone on his aged face and reflected the tears that stained his cheeks. It was only when you sunk into a low curtsy that he noticed your presence.

“My King,” you greeted demurely. “I came to…see how you were doing.”

It was a lie, but seeing the King devastated with grief cracked your determination. The King glanced up at you and your heart clenched painfully at the sight. He looked lost with bloodshot eyes, trembling lips, and a furrowed brow.

“M-my son,” he croaked, voice dripping with sorrow. “My Shoyo…is gone.”

Tears blurred your vision and you rushed forward to embrace the desolate king. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed his head against your chest and mourned the loss of his son together.

In the end, your plans were for naught. You helped the drunken King to his bed and stroked his hair until he fell into a deep slumber. It was then that you should’ve left his bedchamber to return to yours, but you couldn’t find the will to do it. Gossip would run rampant in the palace the next morning, and your reputation would only get dragged through the mud for being a useless queen that couldn’t even seduce her own husband.

So, on a whim, you removed your robe and tossed it on an empty chair before lying next to the King.

You woke up at the crack of dawn and left before the sun’s rays spilled into the bedchamber. Throwing one last glance at the sleeping king, you offered him a silent apology before retrieving your robe and exiting his chambers.

The same guards from the night before greeted you with a bow, but Osamu was nowhere to be seen. Ignoring the strange pit in your stomach, you wished the guards ‘good morning’ and set off to your chambers. On the way, you passed by scores of maids, manservants, and guards who looked at your attire and exchanged looks. It was all proof that your ploy had been successful, and you made the long walk back with your head held higher and your back straighter than ever before.

But the satisfaction from your triumph was cut short when you found Osamu in your antechamber. He appeared agitated as his eyes swept over your appearance, lingering on your mussed hair and thin shift. Under his heavy gaze, you became conscious just how scantily-clad you were dressed and wrapped the robe tighter around your form.

Osamu approached you until he stood next to you, facing the door. Heat radiated from his body and enveloped you in it until it seeped into your bones, sparking something in the pit of your stomach. You could have stayed there for hours just basking in the warmth of his presence, but he spoke and broke your trance.

“Did ya get what ya wanted?” His cold tone was ladened with judgement and it bothered you beyond reason.

“Yes,” you admitted. “For the most part.”

His head whipped in your direction but you kept your gaze fixed on the door leading to your bedchamber. You could almost hear the opening and closing of his jaw, but instead of asking his question, Osamu walked out of your chambers, leaving you alone with your bittersweet triumph.

Just when you dared hope for a brighter future, your world fell apart with the death of the King just two days after Shoyo’s funeral. He’d been dealt a deadly blow by a wild boar during a hunting trip and passed away before a physician could arrive. It was the explanation the mob of courtiers offered you, and before you could wrap your head around the situation, a voice piped up amidst the courtiers.

“The King is dead! Long live the Queen!”

A couple of moments passed before a weak chorus echoed that call, falling to one knee in the process. Their declaration should have filled you with joy, but the conflict on their faces as they exchanged looks only added to your already perilous situation.

The late King hadn’t even been in the ground for a day when the Council called for a meeting with you, the acting ruler of the kingdom. Exhausted as you were by the funeral processions as well as your new duties as regent, you mustered all your strength and courage before the impressive double doors of the throne room opened, and you were announced.

“Her Majesty, the Queen!”

The smell of cologne and musk filled your nostrils as you walked into that room full of critical men ready to tear you down like a pack of wolves. Your crown felt heavier than usual and your neck ached, but you continued until you reached the dais and lowered yourself unto the cold throne.

Rearranging your skirts, you looked up to find the leader of the faction that opposed you opening his mouth to speak. Unwilling to be shamed so early into the meeting, you spoke first.

“Let us begin.” You turned to one of the dukes of the neutral faction, “What is the topic of this meeting, Your Grace?”

“The matter of succession, Your Majesty.”

You bit back a sneer. You knew this discussion would take place sooner rather than later, but you couldn’t help feeling amused by their impatience in limiting your time in power.

“As a foreigner, you must not be aware of the importance of an heir with royal blood flowing through their veins.” A member of the opposing faction spoke out and the insult was not missed by anyone in the room, including you. Fueled by indignation, you placed a hand over your stomach and watched surprise flash across each of the faces in that room.

“After five years of living in this kingdom as your queen, I am perfectly aware of the importance of a Kanto heir. The late Prince Shoyo might be gone, but a direct heir could very well be growing inside me as we speak!”

The room broke out in an uproar between the factions. The men exchanged glares, insults, and accusations that went beyond you and into the deep-rooted political ideologies that separated them. Agitated by their emotional outburst, you were about to call for order when a voice from the opposition beat you to it.

“Gentleman!” Kotarou Bokuto, the Duke of Fukurodani, spoke up and stepped out of the crowd. “Let us convene on the matter at hand.”

His golden eyes brazenly met yours the way they always had during your prior reunions. His display only showed that he had no more respect for you than when you were just queen consort and you did your best to hide your embarrassment.

“A course of action regarding the future of our kingdom must be adopted.” The leader of the opposition declared, his lips twitching with the beginnings of a smirk. “A time limit must be placed for the Queen to see if she is indeed with child. If the Queen does not show the signs of pregnancy after the allotted time period, I believe we should decide on an heir here and now!”

“And who, pray tell, do you deem worthy of being declared the Kanto heir if the blood of the late King is not growing in my womb?” You inquired despite already knowing who they would name.

“The Duke of Fukurodani, as nephew to the late King, would be the most suited for that title.”

“That is only if the Queen is not carrying the late King’s child.” From the crowd of the neutral faction, the Marquess of Itachiyama, Kiyoomi Sakusa, stepped out and bowed to you before re-addressing the opposition. “A trial period of six months should be an adequate amount of time to see if the Queen is with child.”

Muttering filled the room as the factions debated Sakusa’s proposition amongst themselves and with each other before the room settled and the leader of the opposition spoke once again.

“The factions accept the time period suggested by Itachiyama and the declaration of Fukurodani as heir if, and only if, Your Majesty is not with child.”

They presented this to you as if you had a choice in the matter when in reality, all you could do was agree to their conditions with a smile like the powerless ruler you were.

“Very well. The matter of succession has been settled and this meeting is now adjourned!” You declared, gazing across the room to find a pair of gleaming golden eyes already on you.

Your resolve was crumbling like your future as queen and your relationship with Osamu. It’d been less than a week since that heated encounter in your chambers and the two of you had yet to discuss the emotions that had fueled it.

As your sworn sword, Osamu still carried out his duties in accompanying you everywhere you went, but there was now a divide between the two of you. It was that divide that stopped you from actively seeking him out to confide in him the way you had over the last ten years of your friendship.

The meeting with the Council had been the last straw regarding your newfound loneliness and as soon as the two of you left the throne room, you turned to Osamu.

“We need to tal—”

“Your Majesty!”

Kotarou Bokuto’s booming voice called out and you turned around to find him followed by his advisor and close confidante, Keiji Akaashi, approaching you from the throne room. He was resplendent in the navy-blue and gold colors of his duchy and walked with a confidence that was befitting of his station—perhaps even more.

“Would you be able to set aside some time for myself and Akaashi? We’d like to discuss some things with you.” His friendly manner of speaking had fooled you long ago, but you knew better now and regarded him with skepticism.

“Pray tell, what exactly do we need to discuss?” You asked, unable to hide your annoyance at being interrupted.

“I’m sure you already know what it is.” Akaashi interjected and you thought it was about time the real mastermind behind Bokuto spoke up.

“Watch your tongue!” Osamu growled, taking a protective stance in front of you. Akaashi held his ground for a moment before backing down and you placed a hand on Osamu’s shoulder. He peered down at you with brows knit and his mouth twisted into a confused frown. You offered him a reassuring look and nodded once before he stepped aside. Turning to Bokuto and Akaashi, who regarded you with mild amusement, you offered them a forced smile.

“Follow me to my office, gentlemen. We will be able to talk at ease there.” You said and led them through the palace to the late King’s office that had been taken over by you.

Once inside and settled at the sitting area in the middle of the room, tea was brought up and served for you and the two men seated across from you. After taking a sip and wetting your tongue with the mild brew, you set down your cup and gave the gentlemen your undivided attention.

“Well then, I suppose you wish to discuss the succession?” You stated, cutting straight to the chase.

“We have a proposition for you, Your Majesty.” Bokuto replied, crossing his arms across his chest. “One that could very well save you from ruin.”

“Oh, how so?” You asked, feigning indifference while clasping your hands together to stop them from trembling.

“When your trial period is over and it is proven that you are in fact not with child, I would be willing to make you an offer of matrimony. Think about it, you could avoid returning to your kingdom a disgraced bride and continue being the queen—my queen.”

His proposition was beyond anything you’d imagined and a heavy weight set onto the pit of your stomach. You should’ve been outraged. You should’ve thrown them out of your office for even suggesting such an outrageous thing. You should have said anything except what you ended up asking.

“And this…arrangement would benefit you, how?”

“Despite what you may think, I believe you have done a wonderful job as the late King’s consort. I have no desire to take a risk with another woman when you are already the dutiful and reserved woman I am looking for.”

His words came out as compliments but all you heard were disparaging remarks about your person that left a bitter taste in your mouth. You turned to Akaashi to see if he was actually in agreement with the outlandish things Bokuto was spouting only to find a pleased smile gracing his lips. You sat there aghast as you realized Akaashi had no doubt been the one to plant the idea into Bokuto’s head. A shiver ran down your spine as the magnitude of Akaashi’s ambition manifested itself in the shape of the Kanto Kingdom’s throne. While it was true you weren’t the perfect queen, you refused to let yourself be used by anyone else and decided to take matters into your own hands with the help of your closest ally.

“I am afraid you will have to find someone else to be your duchess, Your Grace.” You unclasped your hands and laid them daintily over your lap. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have much work to do.”

For your plan to work, time was of the essence. The first chance you got to escape the endless paperwork you were stuck with as ruler, you dismissed your ladies and walked into the forest on the outskirts of the palace grounds with a silent Osamu following you. Deep within the forest was a grassy clearing with a flattened boulder in the middle that resembled a bench. It had become your sanctuary since your arrival five years ago that only you and Osamu knew about. While you had been too busy since Shoyo’s death to pay it a visit, you couldn’t think of a more adequate place to deliver your treasonous request to Osamu and see it through.

The vibrantly colored autumn leaves that adorned the trees had started to fall and created a blanket of deep red, burnt orange, and golden yellow on the ground that crackled with each step you took. Like the trees, you were determined to shed your old reservations to make way for the new risks you would take to be the master of your own fate. Taking in a ragged breath and drawing your woolen cloak closer to your form, you turned around and faced your devoted knight.

“Before anything else, I have something to confess to you. The King did not touch me that night. He fell asleep and I-I stayed the night.” Your voice thickened with emotion as you watched Osamu’s steel grey eyes widen with each word that fell from your lips.

“I thought that by making everyone else believe he did my reputation at court would improve. But now the King is gone and my womb is empty despite what I have told everyone including Bokuto.”

“I-I don’t understand wh—”

You rushed to him and took his gloved hands into yours. “You know as well as I do that returning home as a disgraced bride is not an option for me. In the best-case scenario, I will be stripped of my status and sent into exile with only the clothes on my back.”

“W-what are ya trying to say?” Osamu asked and tears welled up in your eyes from the worry that laced his voice and showed on his face.

“What I am asking of you is a dangerous, treasonous, and immoral thing. It is selfish of me but I am unable to come up with another solution. I will not demand anything of you. If you are not willing then we can forget that any of this happened for my punishment will be delivered in six months’ time.”

“Y/N, please, what do ya want from me?”

“A child. I-I ask that you give me a child to save me from ruin.” Tears fell from your eyes as you closed them, unable to look at Osamu after voicing your treacherous request.

Osamu said nothing. For a long stretch of time the only sounds you could hear were the whistling of the wind, the rustling of leaves, and your thundering heart. Dread washed over you the longer your childhood friend remained silent. Your breathing became strained as a lump lodged itself into your throat. You kept your eyes closed to avoid seeing the scorn that no doubt showed on his face.

“I’ll do it.”

Your eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice, and you saw no contempt from the man before you. He looked at you as if you were the most precious being in the world. All your fears were dispelled when he raised your hands and pressed your knuckles to his lips. Instead of the comforting warmth his chaste kisses usually brought you, this kiss set your skin ablaze and a flush traveled all the way up to your face.

“Th-thank you, Samu.” You whispered, noticing the small smile that graced his lips at your use of his nickname. “I promise you that no harm shall ever come to you from this. This is my sin and mine alone.”

“Y/N, I have to t—”

“We have to be quick about this.” You interrupted and retracted your hands from his grasp to start working on the ties of your robe. Then just before the garment could fall to the ground, Osamu caught it with his hands. You looked up to find disapproval etched on his face while something darker lurked in his stormy eyes that sent a dull ache to your core.

“Not here. I’ll do it but not here.” He said resolutely as he pulled your robe over your shoulders and went to work fastening the ties. “You deserve better.”

You wanted to challenge him on that. You wanted to remind him that what you wanted to do was treason. You wanted to brand yourself as a harlot because that was what everyone else would’ve called you. But Osamu’s fingers were as gentle as his gaze while he worked and all you could manage was a whispered ‘thank you’ as you blinked away a fresh set of tears.

The two of you agreed on that night. You would dismiss your ladies and Osamu would guard your door alone that night. Then when the palace was asleep, he would join you in your bedchamber to carry out the task and return to his post before anyone took notice. It was hardly a fool-proof plan, but it was a risk you were willing to take as you had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Despite that belief, panic creeped under your skin as you sat in your antechamber on the cushioned bench beside your window. You tried working but you were unable to focus and left the pile of paperwork at the table. You even tried picking up your needlework only to prick your finger enough times to draw blood while completing a couple sloppy stitches. In the end, all you could do was wait for him while pressing on your bleeding finger—a miniscule punishment for the enormous transgression you were about to commit.

 A singular knock broke your reverie. You rushed to open the door and pulled Osamu into the room before closing the door behind him.

“Was there anyone lurking nearby?” You asked, still holding onto his hand.

“No one, My Queen.” He replied, his voice a low rasp that sent shivers down your spine.

“Call me by my name,” you insisted before pulling him along to your bedchamber.

Except for the dim light from a couple of candles, your room was dark and you found that you preferred it that way. It was easier to forget your shame under the cover of darkness. You led him to your bed before you sat on the edge and waited for him to make the first move—except he didn’t.

“We do not have much time, Samu.” You breathed and glanced up at him only to find a pained expression on his face that made your blood run cold. “I-Is something the matter?”

“Before we start, I’ve something to confess.” He admitted and the creases on his brow deepened. “The reason I followed ya here five years ago and agreed to do this is because I-I love ya.”

His confession reverberated off the stone walls and echoed in your ears. You sat motionless on the bed while your mind revisited all of your interactions to try to make sense of his words. It didn’t take long for you to come to the same conclusion after thinking back to the gentleness of his words that never waned, the adoration in his eyes every time they fell on your form. You also recalled the worry he’d shown for you after Shoyo’s death and the dark emotion you could now recognize as jealousy that had swirled in his orbs after returning from the King’s bedchamber. It was then that you unlocked a hidden box of emotions toward Osamu. The immense comfort you felt in just seeing him. The warmth that spread whenever he pressed kisses to your hands. The ache in your belly when his eyes would darken with what you now knew was desire. They were all emotions you had never felt towards anyone except Osamu and you finally knew why.

“I love you too,” you revealed, not just to him but to yourself as well. “I-I think I always have.”

He released a shaky breath before gently cradling your face in his rough hands. Even in the flickering candlelight, you could still make out the unadulterated love behind his gaze. It was a love that had always been there, lurking beneath loyalty and honor, but at the same time, it was also new and filled you with excitement at the prospect of experiencing an emotion you’d renounced on your wedding night.

Osamu leaned forward until his forehead rested against yours and his nose was just a hair's-width away. He released a ragged breath that fanned over your face and caused goosebumps to rise over the expanse of your skin. You breathed him in, his scent a mixture of earthy musk and leather that you wanted more of.

“C-can I kiss ya?”

His question came out in a strained husky voice that ignited a flame in the pit of your stomach, and you answered by pressing your lips against his tentatively. A moment passed before Osamu took the lead and parted your mouth with a swipe of his tongue on your lower lip. You had never known what a kiss felt like and Osamu was more than willing to teach you. He explored your mouth and groaned in approval when you reciprocated. His kiss stoked up the flames burning within your core. An overwhelming need to close the distance between you rose and your hands found purchase on the hem of his tunic before they delved underneath the coarse material and made contact with his skin.

He broke away from your mouth with a hiss. “Wait,” he panted. “N-not yet.”

Before you could ask Osamu what he meant, he knelt down and pressed a loving kiss to your ankle. A furious flush spread across your face, down your neck, and underneath your thin shift. His eyes drank in your reaction and you felt him smile against your sensitive skin before traveling up your leg, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake.

When he reached your inner thigh, he sucked on the flesh and you clasped a hand over your mouth to stifle a moan. He pressed a soft kiss on the spot before repeating the same process on the other leg. By the time he marked your other thigh, both of your legs were trembling and desire pooled between your legs. 

You felt him move again and panic tore through you as you bunched up your shift to see if he was doing what you thought he was—and sure enough, he was.

The protest on your lips was replaced with a heady moan when his tongue flattened over your slit and moved up until it reached a spot you were well-acquainted with. It was the spot your fingers would travel to late at night after having a little too much wine before bed. You quickly discovered that your clumsy fingers were nothing compared to Osamu’s mouth that alternated between sucking and flicking at the engorged flesh with his hot tongue.

His calloused hands trailed up your thighs and spread them apart while your hands pressed against the mattress to steady you. Just when you felt your release building, he surprised you by slowly pushing one of his digits inside of you. What had once been uncomfortable on your wedding night was now a tantalizing sensation that only increased with each finger Osamu added and dragged against your fleshy walls.

You quickly came apart on his fingers and mouth, your entire body shuddering as the waves of pleasure washed over you. Panting and flushed, you peered down to find Osamu’s mouth twisted into a grin and covered in your release. The sight was as immoral as it was entrancing. It was a sight you never wanted to forget; one you wanted to keep for yourself. At that moment, you knew exactly what you wanted and decided to take it.

You took off your shift in one swift movement and tossed it to the ground, your eyes never leaving his. As he worked on removing his own clothing, you crawled back onto your bed and watched him with hungry eyes. When he was as bare as you were, he joined you and settled between your already parted legs.

He looked big, but then again, you weren’t really sure what could be considered big, having long forgotten the only other one you knew. Tearing your gaze from it, you looked up at Osamu to find a silent question on his face. You broke into a smile at his concern and nodded your consent. Leaning one arm next to your head, he drew your lips into a passionate kiss before lining himself up and slowly pushing inside of you.

There was a mild sting but nothing compared to the pain of your wedding night. When sheathed himself completely, you wrapped your legs around him and whispered into his ear.

“I love you.”

Your words seemed to spur him on and he groaned into your ear, pulling out only to fill you up again. He made love to you in deep languid strokes that opened you up to a whole new world of sensations. Each stroke, each press, each kiss, built up another release and all you could do was drag your nails down his back and meet his thrusts with your own.

Your second release was even more potent than the first. You cried out and threw your head back onto the pillows while Osamu quickly reached his. He buried his face into the crook of your neck to muffle his groans as he filled you with his seed—a sensation you’d never experienced before—and held you even after he’d given you everything he had.

For the longest time, all you heard was the evening of your breaths and the synchronized beating of your hearts. You ran soothing circles over the scratches you’d given him while he pressed sweet kisses to your cheek, neck, and shoulder. In the aftermath of your lovemaking, it was so easy to forget titles and circumstances. You were just two lovers on that bed and there was nothing you wouldn’t give to make it a reality.

Unfortunately, your life was anything but a fairytale, and you shifted beneath Osamu who seemed to get the message.

“I should go,” he murmured but not before pressing another kiss to your lips. One that you were more than willing to reciprocate. It was not nearly as long as you wished, but you held back a whine when he ended it and climbed off your bed. You drank in the sight of him underneath the pale moonlight as he slipped on his tunic and breeches, remembering how the planes of his body had felt against your hands, legs, and torso. As he laced his boots, you looked around the room for your shift only to find it on the floor at the foot of your bed. You shifted only to feel the sticky and wet residue between your legs and froze on the spot.

“C-could you hand me my shift?” You asked, just as Osamu rose to his feet fully clothed. “I do not want to risk—”

“Of course,” he replied before you could finish. He picked up the thin garment and brought it to you while pressing a kiss on your temple. “Sleep well, Y/N.”

It was just a glance, but you saw his grey eyes flicker to your bare stomach before swallowing and leaving through the door you’d pulled him through earlier that night. Your fingers ghosted over your navel and you wondered if he wanted it just as much as you did. After slipping on your shift, you pressed your legs together and lied back down while thoughts of a child with your looks and his character filled your head until sleep overtook you.

The six months of your trial period came to an end with little to no backlash from the Council. The neutral faction led by Sakusa watched you with satisfied expressions as you made your way up to the dais while the opposing faction grumbled amongst themselves but didn’t challenge you outright. You saw Bokuto and Akaashi with smiles that didn’t meet their eyes and responded by placing a protective hand over your protruding stomach that was still quite noticeable despite your loose-fitting gown.

Your attention was drawn back to the throne before you thanks to the gentle squeeze on your left hand. Turning slightly, you saw the hint of a smile on your knight and lover’s face and let his presence soothe you in the way it always had. So with Osamu by your side and his child growing inside your womb, you sat on the throne and watched over your subjects with your hand resting on your stomach as they shouted:

“Long live the Queen!”

[mianavs]

Elementary

falling for Ushijima was straightforward and uncomplicated—despite the complicated circumstances in which it occurred

Ushijima x f!reader

a/n: my first hq piece and it’s centered around mr. perfect himself. fluff and light angst

wc: 4k

It wasn’t until you saw Miyagi prefecture’s top ace, Ushijima Wakatoshi, walk behind your mother’s old friend that the real reason behind this meeting smacked you like a volleyball to the face. You were transferring to Shiratorizawa for your third year of high school after attending Aoba Josai for only a year because—well, because your mom decided and that was that. Like everything else in your life since your father left, your mom controlled every aspect of your life from the clothes you wore, the food you ate, the length of your hair, even the way you smelled—or so she thought.

Transferring to another prefecture in your second year of high school had been the icing on the cake when it came to your mother’s obsession with molding you into her ideal of a teenage girl. After the honeymoon stage of her remarriage was over, she decided that Tokyo was too hectic and the three of you would move back to her childhood home of rural Miyagi. Aoba Josai hadn’t been her first choice but Shiratorizawa wouldn’t accept you a month into the school year. There you met your friend, Hanamaki Takahiro, and got talked into managing the boys’ volleyball team for the simple reason that you were new and didn’t fawn over their setter, Oikawa Toru.

At first, your decision had everything to do with rebelling against your mother and joining a club she wouldn’t approve of; however, you soon found yourself enjoying the sport and befriending the team. Managing Seijoh meant you’d crossed paths with Ushijima prior to the awkward lunch you were currently having but you doubted he ever noticed you. Then again, you doubted a ‘volleyball monster’ like him noticed anything that wasn’t a volleyball or the net.

You were perfectly content with eating good sushi and drowning out the chatty women while ignoring your old rival now soon-to-be classmate but Ushijima-san turned her attention to you.

“Y/N, your mother told me you managed the boys’ volleyball team back at Aoba Josai.”

“Yes, I did.” You replied with a polite smile while remembering your mother’s outrage when she’d caught you after a game. Leave it to your mother to turn your rebellious stunt into a wonderful coincidence between you and your soon-to-be suitor, Ushijima.

“Wakatoshi, you’ve played Aoba Josai before. Do you recognize, Y/N?”

Ushijima took his eyes off his food and regarded you. The longer his olive eyes examined your face, the deeper he furrowed his brow—a clear indication he was trying hard to remember your face to no avail. You found yourself pitying him, a fact you would never admit to Oikawa, and spoke up before Ushijima could open his mouth.

“I wasn’t on the court much during the matches so Ushijima probably doesn’t remember me.”

“Oh, I see.” She then turned to her son. “Since Y/N will be attending Shiratorizawa and she has experience managing, why don’t you recommend her for a manager position with your team, Wakatoshi?”

“What?!”

Three sets of eyes were immediately on you while the pair next to you reached under the table and pinched your thigh in silent warning. You immediately lowered your eyes demurely and corrected your outburst.

“It’s just that I don’t have much experience and Shiratorizawa probably already has managers that are more than capable. I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”

“It’s no burden,” Ushijima deadpanned. “We need a new manager this year and since you have experience, I’ll recommend you to the coach.”

“Ah, you really don’t have to go out of your way for me by asking your coach. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with him!” You gave him an obvious forced smile and ignored the kick from your mother who read you like a book. The last thing you wanted was to manage a team that wasn’t Seijoh, especially if that team was Shiratorizawa.

“I see the coach everyday during practice so I won’t be going out of my way. He also trusts my judgement so I’m sure he’ll approve of you.”

You were sure any other girl would have jumped at the opportunity to manage a team like them but you weren’t just any girl. You were Seijoh’s ex-manager and couldn’t just switch teams like nothing. The looks of betrayal on the team’s face when they’d see you clad in the white and violet track jacket would be too much to take. Your mother, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about the Seijoh boys and dug her heel into your foot to the point that you had no choice but to thank Ushijima for his thoughtfulness.

“…Thank you, Ushijima.”

Shiratorizawa was a pleasant surprise for you. The academics were challenging but the support from your teachers and classmates made up for it. The fact that you stayed in dorms also helped ease the tension between you and your mom’s relationship. You argued less when you visited home on the weekends and even found yourself stalling your return on Sunday evenings. Your move to Shiratorizawa was almost perfect except for the whole volleyball manager situation. In the end, Coach Washijo and Ushijima approached you on the first day of school and you cowered under their intimidating gaze to accept the position.

The differences between Seijoh and Shiratorizawa were big and despite your experience, it was a struggle adapting to your new team. The team was very different from their style of play to the way they interacted with each other. You hated to admit it but they practiced long hours and it definitely showed during their matches. Shiratorizawa truly was a team that belonged in Nationals but whether you belonged there alongside them was still to be determined. Three months in and you were still struggling with the paperwork Coach Saito would demand from you after every practice.

“I need the documentation on their serves not their receives, L/N,” Saito stated shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, Coach. I’ll bring it to your office first thing tomorrow!” You bowed in apology only straightening when he walked away. Biting your lip, you noticed Tendou and Ushijima’s eyes on you and walked away mortified that they witnessed you getting chewed out once again. You ignored the whispers from the other boys as you helped put away the equipment wanting nothing more than to return to your dorm and collapse on your bed. That was only wishful thinking, however, because the paperwork on the teams’ serves needed to be done, so you scribbled away on your notebook while the boys exited the gym.

“Do you need help?”

Ushijima stood in front of you with his signature blank face as his eyes trailed down to the figures on your notebook. You looked around expecting to see Tendou only to realize the two of you were alone.

“Uh, not really. I just have to get the numbers together but thank you, Ushijima.” You went back to flipping through your notebook hoping he’d get the message but instead he sat down next to you on the bleachers and watched you work. Over the past few months, you’d realized that Ushijima wasn’t good with non-verbals. After a while he cleared his throat and you looked up knowing he was about to speak.

“I wanted to thank you for accepting the position. I know it hasn’t been easy for you but we all appreciate your efforts.” His olive orbs were earnest despite the seriousness of his voice. Praise was rare for the team members and even rarer for you. So far, Reon was the only one who expressed his appreciation of you with quick thanks, high fives, or encouraging smiles. You chuckled to Ushijima’s confusion.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to being praised by you guys—well, except for Reon. Thank you, though, for checking up on me.” Your smile was genuine and his brow relaxed. You looked at the clock and realized the lights would go off soon so you packed your things and decided to head to the library to finish your work and start your homework.

“I’m gonna head to the library to finish this. Will you be going back to the dorms?”

“Yes, to shower and study for the history exam.”

You groaned at the reminder of your exam tomorrow which you meant to study for tonight. “I completely forgot about the exam tomorrow. I should really get going so I’ll see you later!” You bounded for the door but stopped when Ushijima called after you and met you by the door.

“We can study together. I am meeting with the other third years. We can help you finish the paperwork and then study for the exam.”

Being around the other third years, Tendou in particular, made you uncomfortable but you really needed to do well on the exam so you accepted and the two of you walked towards the dorms together. That night you learned more about the boys than you had over the past three months in practice. Semi and you bonded over music and sushi, Tendou cracked jokes about Ushijima that made you burst out laughing, and Reon answered all of the questions you had about the first and second years. You were so absorbed in your conversation with Tendou that you didn’t notice the small smile on Ushijiima’s face with his gaze solely fixed on you.

It was almost curfew when Ushijima and you walked towards your dorm after he insisted on escorting you. After spending time with him and the others, you felt more relaxed by his side and the urge to learn more about him ate away at you. You asked him about volleyball and that got him talking about his dad and his parents—a topic you could easily relate to.

“My dad isn’t around either,” You admitted. “He left when I was ten. I haven’t seen him since but he was never around much before anyway.”

“You seemed close with your mother,” He observed and you chortled in return.

“She’s my only parent so I don’t have much of a choice. That and she takes pleasure in controlling every aspect of my life to mold me into the perfect daughter.”

“My mother is also life that. She was very strict about my upbringing.”

“That’s probably why they’re such good friends,” you muttered and Ushijima did something you’d never seen him do—he chuckled. It was a low rumble in his chest that shouldn’t have sounded that pleasant but it did and you grinned satisfied that you got THE Ushijima to chuckle.

“How did your mom react to you playing volleyball?” You asked sitting on the bench near your dorm while Ushijima sat next to you.

“She was against it at first and only accepted it when I showed promise in it.” While Ushijima’s voice didn’t show much emotion, you found his eyes to be more expressive and fixed your attention on them as he stared ahead lost in thought.

“My mother freaked out when she found out I was managing Seijoh. It was the one thing I fought her tooth and nail on and actually won.”

“Really? She seemed pleased when I suggested you manage our team.” You giggled at his obliviousness to the plan your mothers had hatched since that fateful sushi lunch.

“I’m sure she found some merit in me managing the volleyball team.” With that you stood up and Ushijima mimicked you once again. “Anyway, thanks for tonight.”

The corners of Ushijima’s mouth twitched into an approximation of a smile that you found amusing. “You’re welcome. Have a good night, L/N.”

After getting to know Ushijima, you found yourself relying on him more and more during practice and games. It was only natural, of course, that you would interact with the captain the most and found your closeness to him reasonable. Just as you had grown closer to him, you had also gotten comfortable with the rest of the team and vice versa. Tendou, in particular, noticed you were clinging more to Ushijima than normal during the team’s first away game of the season. He made quips about you throughout the various sets the team played.

“Wakatoshi is over there, Y/N.”

“Do you want me to get Wakatoshi?”

“Need Wakatoshi again, Y/N?”

As the evening went on, you went from ignoring him to chucking a water bottle at him. It seemed that the more you reacted to his comments the more he wanted to tease you. Tendou found the perfect opportunity after the last set when you were reviewing your observations with Ushijima on his spikes and serves. While you found the proximity of your bodies perfectly reasonable, Tendou thought otherwise and voiced his opinion to the rest of the team.

“Wow, you guys look real good together. Like a couple!” The team mostly ignored him, used to Tendou’s outbursts, but the smug look on his face riled you up and you gripped your notebook ready to launch it at his face.

“L/N always looks good. She doesn’t need me for that.”

You could have heard a pin drop from how silent the gym had gone. Everyone’s attention was on the three of you—even the coach’s, to your mortification. You avoided looking at the person who’d caused the commotion and instead glared at Tendou until you saw the rare shock on his face that quickly melted into one of his genuine grin’s.

“Haaa...if you say so, Wakatoshi-kun.” He stalked passed your side but not before addressing you. “You heard him, Y/N.”

With burning cheeks, you turned to face Ushijima, who scanned your face in confusion. The longer he stared the redder your face got until he voiced the concern eating at him.

“Do you have a fever? Your face is flushed.”

You backed away and made up an excuse about the heat in the gym before putting away your notebook. Needing space to clear your head, you told Ushijima you would send him his data from the match later before you grabbed the water bottle bag and scrambled out of the gym to the bus. You tried blaming your scarlet face on the scene Tendou had caused but your traitorous heart raced as Ushijima’s words rang in your head like a mantra.

“L/N always looks good”

“L/N always looks good”

“L/N. always. looks. good”

While you knew that it would be inevitable, the match between Seijoh had you more nervous than usual. The boys knew you were Shiratorizawa’s manager and most of them had taken it pretty well. Hanamaki and Matsukawa still went to the movies with you and Iwaizumi occasionally texted you about volleyball but the one who it the hardest was, of course, Oikawa. He blocked your number when you tried reaching out and Hanamaki told you to give him time so you stopped trying. Seeing him again ate at you during the bus ride to your old school and judging from the worried looks the team sent you, they were well aware of your inner turmoil.

It began with Goshiki, your favorite underclassman, reassuring you everything would be okay and walking next to you when Reon and Semi joined him until the entire team surrounded you. Ushijima walked behind you and his confident aura comforted you as you stepped into the gym and your old team regarded you with guarded expressions.

The match ended after three sets but Shiratorizawa won yet again despite Aoba Josai playing better than you’d ever seen them play. Knowing better than to avoid the team, you went to refill your team’s bottles near where Seijoh would exit hoping you would get a chance to greet them. Sure enough, they filed out the double doors and greeted you with waves and nods before Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Iwaizumi walked out and approached you. They smiled and joked with you despite losing and your heart felt lighter knowing you could still joke around with the boys like this. They left to find the coach for the post-match meeting and you were about to look for your boys when Oikawa rushed out of the gym before stopping in his tracks when he saw you. His usual cocky smile was nowhere to be found and instead he wore a scowl on his face which you knew meant he was upset.

“Well look who we have here. If it isn’t our traitor ex-manager.” You weren’t used to him addressing you coldly and your throat closed.

“O-Oikawa, I kno—”

“Having fun running around with that bastard Ushiwaka?” He stalked towards you and backed you up into the wall.

“I didn’t have a choice, Oikawa. I swear I wasn’t going to do it but things got complicated.”

“I don’t wanna hear your excuses, Y/N. Was this your plan all along? Manage us for a year until Shiratorizawa let you in and then run to them and disclose all our plays, strengths, and weaknesses?” Oikawa closed in on you, his ugly smirk contrasting with his pretty features. “You’re pathetic—”

“Oikawa, don’t take out your anger on our manager. It’s not her fault you lost.”

There was an edge to Ushijima’s normal emotionless tone as he stood next to you. Seeing his strong confident body made you realize you were trembling like a leaf. Oikawa ignored you and placed his full attention on his greatest enemy.

“We’ll beat you next time. Even with a traitor like her by your side we’ll win!” With that, Oikawa threw one last sneer in your direction before stalking away. With all of the fight sucked out of you by Oikawa, you kept your face lowered as you reached for the heavy bag but Ushijima beat you to it and slung the bag over his shoulder.

“Let’s go, Y/N.”

You didn’t know if it was the confrontation with Oikawa or the fact that Ushijima stood by your side but hearing him call you by your first name triggered an emotional switch within you and sobs escaped the confines of your mouth. Before Ushijima could turn around, you gripped his jacket and buried your face in it to muffle your cries; the last thing you wanted was to cause another scene. Ushijima stayed still until your cries ceased and that was when you discovered that he also radiated comforting warmth. You stuck by his side the rest of the day ignoring the surprised looks from the team.

On the rare weekends that you didn’t have volleyball or schoolwork to do, you still spent them with Ushijima—and your respective families. Your mothers had stopped being discrete about their intentions regarding the two of you but Ushijima seemed blissfully unaware. You had already accepted your feelings for Ushijima but the smug look on your mother’s face every time Ushijima would pull your chair during dinner or would wait for you to walk together fueled your determination not to show them, at least not in her presence. Years of quietly rebelling against your mother’s control made it hard to accept the fact that she was right about Ushijima.

When you weren’t with your families, you clung to Ushijima more. He was your pillar not only on the team but in school as well. You sought him out regularly until the two of you did everything together, occasionally joined by Tendou, Semi, or Reon. Having a crush on Ushijima was easy for you because no matter how much you clung to him or showed your affection with cold water, soft towels, and snacks; he would never think too much of it. He was completely devoted to volleyball and had no mind to ponder over your tentative glances, tinted cheeks, and lingering touches—or so you thought.

It was the end of the year and volleyball season had ended on a bittersweet note for the third years. While everyone else, including you, scrambled to figure out what to do after graduation, Ushijima knew his place was on the volleyball court and was deciding on what professional team’s offer to accept.

The two of you were sitting on his bed with applications and paperwork spread around the two of you. While Ushijima flipped over contracts from various teams, you looked over the acceptance letters and scholarship offers from universities. You had been on the fence between two schools—one in Tokyo and the other in Osaka—but after reviewing the scholarship money and the program, you decided on Tokyo.

“I’m going with Tokyo,” you declared picking up that school’s acceptance letter. Ushijima glanced at the letter and leaned in to read it. “It’s a good school. I’m sure you’ll do well.”

“What about you? Have you decided on a team?” He turned his attention back to the various papers before fishing out a particular contract. “I just did.”

He showed you the contract for the Schweiden Adlers, a Tokyo based team, and your heart stopped. You searched his face for a hint of hesitation but, true to his character, Ushijima’s face betrayed nothing.

“What do you mean you just did?” You needed to know what he meant because your heart wouldn’t stop racing unless he disproved what you were hoping.

“Since you chose a school in Tokyo, I’d have to choose a team in Tokyo to stay by your side.” He was as earnest as ever but you needed more.

“That’s not a valid reason, Wakatoshi. You need to prioritize your future and pick a team that will let you accomplish your goals.” You choked on your words knowing that his response would most likely break your heart.

“I am thinking about my future,” he replied and your eyes were met by a burning expression you’d only seen during volleyball matches. “My goals are to play professional volleyball and marry you in the future.”

You didn’t breathe, didn’t move a muscle. Your body was frozen on the spot but your heart thumped erratically in your chest. After his words registered, your nose began to sting and tears of joy streamed down your face. A panicked look flashed on Ushijima’s face and you punched his arm.

“How can you say that when we aren’t even dating officially?!”

“I thought we were. We’ve gone on multiple dates, Y/N.” He seemed genuinely surprised by your question and it only riled you up even more.

“You. Never. Confessed! How am I supposed to know?!” You hit him again and again letting out your pent-up frustration. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear your confession or rejection?! I’ve liked you for a while, you know!”

With a gentleness he only showed around you, Ushijima reached over and wiped the tears from your cheeks. “I like you too, Y/N. I’ve felt this way for quite some time but I figured you knew.”

You clasped his hands and brought them down to your lap. His confession warmed your heart in the way that only he could and you calmed down.

“Since when? How long have you felt this way?” Giving his hands a gentle squeeze, you asked the question you needed to know.

“The first lunch we had with our mothers. I wanted to get to know you better but didn’t know how. When my mother mentioned you managing Aoba Josai, I knew it was my chance. That was why I insisted on you managing the team. It was the only way I could get to know you better.”

You chuckled realizing that he had been uncommonly insistent that day in regard to you managing. Ushijima gave you one of his rare smiles and you acted on your impulses by leaning forward and pressing your lips on his, in a gentle caressing kiss.

Your mother had controlled everything in your life. You would fight her on certain things but, most of the time, she won. You became so accustomed to opposing her decisions that you immediately rejected Ushijima without giving him a proper chance. It wasn’t until you got to know the ‘Super Volleyball Idiot’ that you concluded your mother had been right about one thing—Ushijima Wakatoshi was the only man for you.

[mianavs]

Rue

All you had were bitter regrets when it came to Yachi

Yachi x gn!reader

tw: slight smut

wc: 864

It shouldn’t have been that easy.

It shouldn’t have been that sudden.

Although, you suppose the development of those feelings had been gradual. The realization itself was what had been sudden. One day, it just hit you like a ton of bricks. You were sitting across from her at café during your lunch break one Wednesday afternoon when the thought crossed your mind.

I love Hitoka Yachi.

She was so easy to love too. Her caring personality, the adorable way she bit her lip when she was lost thought, those light touches on your shoulders that dispelled your worries during work. It was the little things you noticed about her that escalated your feelings. What began as a simple admiration for a coworker turned into a strong attraction towards the pretty blonde that never failed to brighten your mornings with a smile.

You knew you were in deep when you took a different train just to spend more time with her before and after work. In your mind, the extra thirty minutes it took get ready in the morning or make it home after work were worth it if it meant listening to Yachi ramble about her favorite series on Netflix, finding out her coffee order, or discovering her favorite food truck. It seemed that the more you learned about her, the harder you fell. You found yourself looking over towards her desk more. You waited for her to take lunch to join her to enjoy her company even more. You sent her videos you knew would make her laugh and saved the videos she sent you in response.

Yachi was so lovely—so perfect—you couldn’t help but feel like you weren’t good enough. She deserved the world but all you could do was buy her coffee and listen to her worries, hopes, and dreams. In the end, it was your damned insecurities that prevented you from admitting your feelings for her. You convinced yourself that you needed more time only to find out you were too late on a cold November evening.

“This is who I was telling you about!” Yachi gushed as she held out her phone to you. The two of you were working overtime and decided to take a much-needed coffee break when Yachi admitted she’d gone on a couple of dates with someone she met on a blind date.

“Oh…wow.” You tried to sound happy but your throat tightened and the words came out too forced. Thankfully, Yachi seemed to preoccupied gazing lovingly at her phone to notice the disappointment you exuded.

“The dates were amazing, Y/N! I feel like they really get me.”

Yachi’s words were daggers on your heart and all you could do was crush your empty paper cup. Her confession hurt but it wasn’t enough. You needed to know if you had even the tiniest chance or if you had lost her forever, so you plastered a smile on your face that you hoped wasn’t too forced.

“Do you really like that person?”

Yachi’s caramel eyes widened and a pink blush dusted her cheeks as the implication behind your words sunk in. Her soft pink lips then quirked into a shy smile before she confirmed what you had been dreading.

That night was the last time you took the train home with her. You needed to put some distance between the two of you in order to suppress your unrequited feelings.

If Yachi notices that you’re avoiding her, she doesn’t say anything and you suppose it’s for the best. The two of you can keep pretending that everything is the same without an awkward confrontation and an even more awkward confession that would surely ruin whatever is left of your relationship. Although, a part of you wishes Yachi noticed your distant behavior because that would mean she paid the same amount of attention you paid her.

After a while, your forced smiles become more natural. Your chest feels less tight when Yachi talks about her partner. You start gravitating towards her desk more and even get lunch once in a while. You want things to go back to the way they were. You want your friend Yachi back.

Or at least that’s what you want to believe.

The ugly truth crawls out when you’re buried in between the thighs of the girl you’d been fucking casually. You tell yourself you keep her around because of the sex but you know better. Her hair is blonde enough, her eyes have enough brown in them, and she’s short to boot. So when you’re working your tongue on her sensitive nub and curling your fingers inside of her messy cunt, it’s easy to pretend she’s someone else. When you’re tongue deep inside her, you close your eyes and imagine it’s Yachi writhing underneath you and whimpering about how good you’re making her feel.

The fantasy dies when you come up and see that it isn’t Yachi. Her hair is more of a strawberry blonde. Her eyes are too hazel. And when her red lips contort into a satisfied smirk, any remaining features that reminded you of Yachi disappear and all you have left are bitter regrets.