It's My First Time Reading Fem!giyuu. Like, I Think It Started Some Sht On Me Jahshdhsbekdlfbd

it's my first time reading fem!giyuu. like, I think it started some sht on me jahshdhsbekdlfbd

Kinktober Day 4 - Hate Sex

Sanemi X Fem!Giyuu

A/n: Ngl, this is one of my favorite stories i've written for kinktober. I need to write hate sex more often, it is so fun! Also sorry for the radio silence on here, I've moved to a new county so XD A touch busy with life. But anyway, enjoy!

Gluck glurck gluck.

Sanami laughed as the filthy sounds echoed throughout the air, tossing his head back as he took pleasure in the situation. He always loved it when he won the bet, his pride swelling as he got the bratty woman to submit to him.

Giyuu was between his legs, her pretty pink lips stretched around his cock, a blush on her face as she deep-throated him. His cock was drenched in her saliva, dripping down his balls and making a mess of the mattress he was reclined on, but Sanemi didn’t mind. Was it truly a good fuck session if the sheets didn’t need changing after? Leaving her dressed in only her panties and her top, he got quite the view from where he sat, her perky ass perched up in the air as she bent on her knees to suck him off. He was completely naked, enjoying the power as he got to order her around the whole night.

The black haired woman glared up at him as she heard him laugh, her blue eyes would have been intimidating were it not for her dilated pupils. She pulled off of his cock, a string of saliva connecting his cockhead to her lips for a second before it broke apart. “Don’t act so fucking smart.” She said, cursing at him even as she jerked his cock up and down. “Why not?” Sanemi retorted, always enjoying when Giyuu was a mouthy brat at him, “Actually, be a good girl and remind me what the price of winning the bet it?” She simply clicked her tongue, averting her gaze from his prideful smirk. But of course, Sanemi wasn’t going to just let her be. His hand shot out to grip her face, squishing her cheeks together and forcing her lips to pout, making her face him. “I asked you a question.” The man growled, pressing on her face tighter, “Where’s my fucking answer?” Giyuu whined, trying to break away from his grip but failing. She huffed, the action looking quite adorable with her pouty face, before she answered:

“Whoever kills the most demons submits to the other for a day.”

“Exactly.” Sanemi said, pushing her face a bit as he let go, “Now enough with the attitude and get back to sucking.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And I’m going to fuck yours with no lube if you keep running that mouth of yours.”

 With another click of the tongue, Giyuu once again placed her mouth on his cock, Sanemi tossing his head back as she started taking him in again. He got comfortable against the headboard, his hand coming up to grab the base of her ponytail, ignoring her whine of protest as he helped her deep throat his cock once more.

He disliked Giyuu the second he met her. Sure, she might have been a Hashira for a bit longer than him, but her high and mighty attitude mixed her with a sarcastic tongue quickly put her on his shit list. Sure, he might have thought she was beautiful, with her dark raven, spikey hair put up in a ponytail and her deep, blue eyes but her looks weren’t enough for Sanemi to like her. And it was no surprise that she wasn’t quite fond of him either.

Giyuu disliked Sanemi the second she met him. Not only did he snap at Ubuyashiki, but he was also violent, loud and had a short temper- all attributes that she did not have the patience to deal with. Sure, she thought he was handsome, his stark white hair and his piercing eyes which she found to be attractive rather than scary and not to mention the scars on his toned body that made him even more manly- but his looks weren’t enough for Giyuu to like him. And she didn’t care that he disliked her too.

But it was after a drunken night where everyone was tipsy from the alcohol, that their little bet first came to fruition. The rest of the Hashira were either passed out or flat out drunk, Sanemi and Giyuu being one of them. With one brash insult after another, the two of them were close to fist fighting were it not for Uzui stopping them:

“Shame on you, Sanemi!” the man said, loud and drunk, his words slurring, “No man should ever- ever fight a woman!”

“She’s not a woman.” Sanemi responded with a sneer, “She’s a rabid bitch!”

“And you’re a pissy little cow who throws a temper tantrum every time something doesn’t go your way.” Giyuu retorted, “even babies are more mature than you are.”

“The fuck did you say?!”

“Now, now.” Uzui said, trying to calm them down by ruffling both of their heads, “let’s not fight. Both of you are frustrated with each other and there’s a very simple way to resolve this tension.” He paused, making sure both of them were listening before he continued:

“You just have to fuck it all out.”

“What?” Giyuu asked, “HUH?!” Sanemi barked.

“You two always butt heads and it can be solved if you just fuck.” Uzui continued, taking another shot, “Trust me, a long night of rough sex is the perfect remedy.”

“Hah! Like I’d ever sleep with this pig.” Giyuu snapped, “I bet he’s not even good in bed.”

“Please- My dick works just fine as long as I’m sleeping with a beautiful woman and not some witch that was fished out of a well!”

And thus, the bet was born. Whoever got the most kills on a mission would be in charge in the bedroom and fuck the other however they please. Sanemi won the first round and he couldn’t be happier rubbing it in her face, the man going wild as he fucked her, insults and curses spewing from both their mouths. It was a fun and intense night but it proved Uzui wrong. It didn’t resolve anything- but rather- made them even more competitive.

 Giyuu demanded a rematch. Which she won. So Sanemi demanded a rematch but Giyuu won again. So he demanded another. And then she demanded another. And she wanted a rematch after that one and well- now they’re here.

“Fuck yeah,” Sanemi growled, fucking Giyuu’s face mercilessly, his hips leaving the mattress to fuck into her mouth, “That’s it- take it- take it you nasty bitch!”

Giyuu couldn’t even glare at him, her eyes watering as his cock slid down her throat over and over again, her gagging adding more pleasure. His grip on her hair was unrelenting, using her mouth like a toy as he mercilessly pounded into her, his balls slapping against her chin. Giyuu assumed she’d be used to the sensation considering the number of blowjobs she’d given the man but, apparently not. Sanemi had a deliciously big cock (not that she’d ever tell him that) with a long, thick shaft and an angry red head with heavy balls. The first time she saw him, hard and dripping with pre-cum, she had to try her very best to not look fazed, lest the man get an ego about it.

“G-Gonna cum!” Sanemi moaned, tossing his head back, eyebrows furrowed as he felt the tell-tale signs of an orgasm rush over him, “Swallow every drop like you fuuuucking love it!”

Giyuu groaned around him and that just increased the pleasure, his balls clenching as he got ready to unload. A couple more thrusts and a loud shout later, Sanemi climaxed. He moaned loudly, toes curling and eyes rolling to the back of his head as he came, pulling at Giyuu’s ponytail and keeping her flush against his abdomen. Cock shoved deep, deep down her throat, her fingernails digging into his thighs, Giyuu gagged around Sanemi’s cock as he came. Rope after rope of cum shot down her mouth, her throat constricting around him with each gulp, the man so far down she could barely taste him.

His balls throbbed with each pump, Sanemi lightly rolling his hips against her as he milked his dick for every drop, letting out a satisfied sigh as he watched the woman take him so perfectly. “There we go…that’s it…yeah, you fucking love it~”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes as Sanemi eventually let go of her hair, strands of it having been pulled out of her ponytail. She gently detached herself for his cock, leaving behind a sloppy, slobbered on mess.  His dick was still hard, needing several rounds before it went limp thanks to his line of business and the stamina he built. Not that Giyuu was complaining of course.

“So full of yourself.” She teased, giving him another eye roll. “Oh yeah? Then maybe don’t enjoy it so much.” Sanemi retorted. “You think I’m enjoying this?”  “I do. But please, take those panties off and prove me wrong.”

Giyuu pouted, knowing full well that her panties were drenched, her pussy dripping. Sanemi laughed, giving her a light pat on the face, “That’s what I fucking thought. Now show me those tits.” Still pouting, Giyuu straightened up and sat on her heels, fingers getting to work on her uniform. Sanemi continued to recline against the headboard and enjoyed the view, peeks of her skin getting revealed as she unbuttoned her top. So many people in the corp were head over heels for Mitsuri, Sanemi having to scare of many a perverts to keep the pink haired woman safe as the Love Hashira was too nice to actually hurt humans. But he always thought people were blind for not realising just how sexy Giyuu was.

An ample chest, toned body with beautiful curves and a nice ass- she was stunning. Not that he’d tell her that, of course.

“You’re staring like an old pervert.” Giyuu said once she tossed her top and bra aside, her bare breasts out for Sanemi to enjoy as she crawled towards him, already knowing what he wanted. “Yeah, well.” The man said, eyes indeed glued to her breasts, plump with cute, pink nipples that were already hard as she sat on his lap, straddling him, “You’re good for something.”

“I can say the same thing about you.” Giyuu said, grinding her panty covered pussy against his cock, making him hiss at the sensitivity. He smacked her ass harshly, making her gasp from the contact, the pain getting dulled as he grabbed a handful of the cheek he just spanked, groping it like a toy. Two fingers slipped into the fabric of her panties, caressing her soft skin, inching closer and closer to her wetness. Deciding that he wanted boobs more than to retort, he simply ignored her comment in favour of opening his mouth and sealing his lips against the tit that was right in front of his face.

Giyuu bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from moaning, refusing the let Sanemi know just how sensitive her breasts were- or rather- just how good he made her breasts feel. The way he sucked at her nipple was addicting, his hot tongue running over the hard bud in circles before flicking it mercilessly, each flick making her body shudder. Her hands ran up his shoulders to clutch at his hair as he suckled on a nipple, his long eyelashes tickling her skin as she grabbed onto fistfuls of his silver locks.

“’Not enjoying this’ my ass.” Sanemi growled as he pulled away from her nipple with a pop before running his tongue over her breasts to make his way to the other bud, “I’m not even touching your pussy but I can feel how wet you are.”

“Sh-shut up- ah!” Giyuu gasped as he licked at her other nipple, giving it a gentle nibble before wrapping his lips around it and suckling harshly. All the while, without her knowing about it, her hips were grinding against him, her body aching for pleasure. She hated that he could see right through her, but she did get turned on by sucking his cock. No- she was turned on the second he got her in his room. Pushing her in, ordering her to strip while he took his clothes off- the passionate way he kissed her before pushing her onto the bed-

“Sa-aah-nemi.” She called out with a gentleness he rarely heard from her, the woman tugging at his hair, “I- fuck- I want a kiss.”

“Hmm? What was that?”

“Y-You heard me, asshole.”

“Fine. Have it your way.” He sucked on her nipple again, ignoring her request entirely which made her groan in frustration. “Fuck- fine- I- I want a kiss.” Giyuu relented. “You want to kiss me?” Sanemi asked, flicking her nipple with his tongue and loving the way she jumped. “Y-Yes. I do.”  “Then kiss me, bitch.”

He grabbed her by the back of her head and roughly pulled her down, making Giyuu yelp at the sudden movement. He crashed his lips against hers, immediately slipping his tongue in and swallowing her little moans. He loved it when he got her like this. Needy and desperate with just enough attitude to make things fun. She moaned against him as he continued to grope her butt, her pussy grinding against his cock shamelessly, her cute whines for more was music to his ears.

“Ah-ah!” she squealed, feeling dizzy as Sanemi’s hand slipped into her panties just as he started biting her tongue. She could feel him snicker as his rough, thick fingers touched her bare pussy, the sound of his digits rubbing against her wetness already loud. He rubbed at her clit, giving it quick strokes before rubbing rough yet slow circles on her sensitive bud. Oh he couldn’t wait to get his mouth on it, but that would come later. For now, he wanted to move on with the main course.

Giyuu pulled away from the kiss to moan, overwhelmed by the sensations as Sanemi suddenly slipped two fingers inside her, her pussy so wet he didn’t need to work up from one. He watched as she rested her head against his shoulder, his other arm wrapping around her waist as he fingered her open, her juices dripping down his hand.

But he wasn’t going to let her off that easily.

“What was it you did the last time you won?” Sanemi asked, a knowing smirk on his face as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, “Oh, that’s right. You tied me up, rode my cock and came over and over again- but you didn’t let me cum even once.”

“That’s-“

“And what was it you called me? Your personal dildo?”

“Uh-“

“Now, convince me.” Sanemi said, stopping his fingers as he looked up at her, nudging her so she’d move her head from his shoulder, “Why should I let you cum, hmm? Right now, you’re my personal pussy and do toys deserve to feel good?”

Giyuu bit her tongue before an insult could escape, Sanemi’s hand on her hip preventing her from grinding against his fingers. If she wanted release, she’d…have to submit.

“I-If you let me cum- I’ll let you cum inside me.”

“I was going to do that anyway.”

She mewled as Sanemi started to lightly thrust his fingers, not moving enough to truly give her pleasure, but enough to remind her of her fingers stretching her pussy and that his cock would feel even better.

“Y-You can fuck my ass?”

“I think you’d enjoy that more than I will.”

She bit her lower lip, gnawing at it before she threw away her pride and said:

“Th-Then…the next time we bet…we’ll consider you the winner.”

Sanemi raised an eyebrow, a smile on his face, “Three times.”

“Two. Take it or leave it.”

“Oh, you think you’re in a position to negotiate?” Sanemi asked, curling his fingers just right inside her, hitting her g-spot and making her gush like a fountain.

“F-Fine! Three times! The next three bets- you’re the winner.”

“You better not fucking forget it!”

Taking his fingers out of her, Sanemi pushed her, both of them tumbling into a new position. Giyuu grunted as her back met the mattress, her legs spread wide for the white-haired man to tower over her. His hands grabbed at her panties and pulled them apart, ripping them like paper. She had to remember to chastise him for ruining another pair of her undergarments but for now, she was too desperate to care.

Sanemi licked his lips as he grabbed her legs and spread her apart even more, his dick twitching with excitement as he gazed at her pussy. Perfect, juicy and oh so fuckable, he had spent many an hour eating her delicious cunt and even more time stuffing his cock inside it. He gripped at his member, giving it a few tugs before he placed it at her entrance. Giyuu watched, excited as both of them didn’t care for words anymore.

She gasped as he started to push in, his fat cock splitting her apart deliciously. She’d never get used to his girth inside her and Sanemi would never get used to her tightness. He grit his teeth to stop himself from moaning as he pushed inside her, her pussy so wet the glide was smooth and so, so deliciously hot. Eventually, he bottomed out, both of them gasping and panting like virgins doing it for the first time.

Seeing Sanemi on top of her, the mans face flushed red and eyebrows furrowed, clearly overtaken by pleasure was a sight for sore eyes. Sure, it was fun seeing his hungry expression as she ordered him to eat out her ass or the frustrated look in his eyes as she rode him without giving him release- but she might enjoy this a bit more. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, pushing him even deeper inside her and making both of them moan as his cock touched the entrance of her womb, her body aching for more.

And more he was going to give.

With a grunt, Sanemi started to thrust, muscles tightening as he worked his body the way he knew she liked. With her gummy walls milking him, he rolled his hips against her, smirking triumphantly as she let out a sweet moan, letting him know he found her g-spot. Aiming for that spot inside her, he picked up the pace, snuggling his face into her neck as he fucked her- no- as they made love. “S-Sanemi- Sanemi!” Giyyu screamed, balls slapping against her as he pounded into her, his cock leaving her breathless, “Yes- yes- oh yes!” “Yeah, scream for me baby~” Sanemi cooed, not missing the way her pussy tightened around him as he called her the adoring nickname, “Milk my cock like a goooood fucking girl~ You like my cock? Hmm? Oh, you love it, don’t you?”

Ever defiant, Giyuu shook her head, making him laugh out loud but this time, she laughed with him, even if her laugh was jumpy due to the force of his thrusting. “Th-there’s n-no way your c-cock will- oh fuck- hnng- make me feel g-good!” “No way huh?” Sanemi asked with a snicker, knowing the woman was full of shit, “Then should I stop?” “No!” Giyuu protested, eyes wide as she wrapped her arms around his tighter, “No- No please-“

“Then beg me for it.” Sanemi snarled, looking her right in the eye, sweat dripping down his brow as he continued with his pace, “And- fuck me- apologize.”

“I-I’m sorry for l-lying.” Giyyu said, tears in her eyes over the pleasure, feeling his cock throb inside her, “I want you- I want your cock to f-fuck me silly!”

“Good girl~” Sanemi pepper her cheek with a few kisses before he took her lips again, picking up the pace of his thrusting. Giyuu dug her nails into his back, leaving behind bright red marks- scars that he’d wear with pride. There was no more talking- just lust. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, of moans, of cries and of kisses, both of them going dizzy from their desires.

“G-Gonna cum!” Giyyu whined, panting heavily, feeling like she wasn’t taking enough air into her lungs from how much Sanemi had ruined her. She didn’t know how much time had passed, but she didn’t care. All she wanted was him. “Me too!” Sanemi said, his hips almost a blur with how passionately he was pounding her pussy. He was determined to make her unable to walk tomorrow, “Fuck- fuck! Cum around my cock, baby~”

“Cum inside me!” Giyuu begged, tossing her head back as her tits bounced up and down, Sanemi occasionally taking a greedy grope, “Want you- inside me.”

“Fuck- cumming!”

“Cumming- cumming!!”

With a scream, the two of them climaxed simultaneously. Giyuu screamed, eyes rolling to the back of her head and her back arching in a perfect ‘C’. Her muscles tensed and her toes curled, her legs shooting out straight and her fingers digging even harder into Sanemi’s back. Her orgasm hit her like a truck, taking away her breath as all she could do was cry and moan, her body trembling like a leaf. She giggled happily as she felt him cum inside her, pumping her womb with his seed. He filled her up deliciously, Sanemi always cumming gallons. He came and came, filling her up so much she felt him spill out a bit. Sanemi wasn’t any better. The man bit into Giyuu’s neck, marking her as he moaned into her skin, the slightly pain turning into her pleasure. His balls clenched as he shot out ropes of thick, hot cum into her eager cunt, filling up her baby maker. Was it risky? Absolutely. Was it fun? Absolutely.

 Would Sanemi be upset if he got her pregnant? Absolutely not.

His body tightened, his muscles spasming as he came, hugging her tightly as he rolled his hips, pumping every last drop inside her of her, refusing to let any of it go to waste. Eventually, both of them came down from their highs, Sanemi completely collapsing on top of her once they were done cumming. Giyuu winced at the pain on her neck, grateful that the uniform would cover it up but that was a problem for future Giyuu. For now, she simply caressed Sanemi’s hair, his cock still stuffing her cunt as they returned back to Earth.

“That was…fuck…” Sanemi said, voice slightly muffled.

“That was great.” Giyuu agreed, pressing a kiss to his head.

“…finally got you to admit it.”

“I didn’t admit shit.”

“So you don’t want me to fuck your ass?”

“…I didn’t say that.”

“Of course not.”

waiting for pt.3

Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? Pt 2

Part one

It was almost 2 minutes before I realized I was still dragging the crown prince behind me. I quickly dropped his hand and looked at him, not able to hide the embarrassment on my face. Listen- I’m committed to the bit. I WILL be the crazy jealous fiancé. But… I’m still human ok. I just dragged a full grown man down several halls and a flight of stairs while I spaced out thinking about how I’m gonna buy my cat premium wet food once I get back home to her.

It’s fine, I’m not flustered at spacing out about my cat, my characters just flustered because she’s been holding the hand of the man she’s obsessed with, that’s all!

“Well…. Did you still want to dine and take that walk?”

I expected him to scold me for my mistreatment of Cressida, grow irritated from me dragging him along like this. Instead, he chuckles and threads his arm in mine, and begins escorting me down the hall.

“Absolutely, have you dined outside by the roses yet? There’s this lovely pavilion that I am eager to hear your thoughts on.”

And that’s how I found myself under an impressive array of roses, all trained up and around a cozy dining area, creating a canopy of green and pink over an intimate tea table. The food was equally impressive, I had to keep reminding myself that the other me is used to this lavish lifestyle, to not gawk at the fancy tiny sandwiches and deserts.

“Well? Is everything to your liking? ”

I’m going off script here, how am I supposed to know how the villainess would react to a romantic scene like this?? If my “evil crazy” side isn’t supposed to be directed at him, and she’s usually kinda distant and unsure around him…. That means I should probably respond pretty curtly, polite, yet not really engaging. But…. I’ve already messed that up…. I guess I can be more genuine when it’s the two of us like this. He can think that this version of me is the facade, that I’m pretending to be pleasant, and then will start to see what a jerk “I” truly am when Cressida’s around. Besides…. I almost feel bad for the villainess. She really just seems like she was shy. Who knows- maybe, if given the opportunity, she really would have opened up more. It’s clear she loved the prince, and just didn’t know how to show it. So, with that thought, I made up my mind.

“It’s breathtaking! Roses are my favorite flower, and I’ve never seen so many kinds in bloom at once…. Plus the food and company leave little to be desired.”

There you go- slip in some subtle flirting! I’m not quite sure what time period this is supposed to be, but I get the impression flirting as bit more high class here, and I think I can have some fun with that.

“I’m glad, to be honest I was a bit flustered asking you to dine with me… you caught me quite off guard today, but in a good way.” He reaches his hand across the table and places it on my own, “I’d like to do this more often, you and I. I feel like the confines of our current arrangement have left us practically strangers, despite being engaged for several months already. I’m enjoying just being companionable with you, even if it’s just existing comfortably in the same room.”

Ohhhh, I know I’m the villain in this story but I can’t help but root for him- what a sweetheart! It’s so obvious he’s been lonely, I can’t wait for him and Cressida to fall in love and have a couple of kids that they’ll spoil rotten. And in the meantime…. Maybe I do have a bit of evil in me, because I’m going to selfishly enjoy this handsome man treating me to lunches under roses and reading in cozy libraries while I can.

“I know exactly how you feel your highness. Now, you mentioned a walk?”

We spent the afternoon laughing and chatting, and it felt nice to chat without worrying too much about my role. He asked me about that book I picked out earlier, and listened attentively as I caught him up with where I’m at in the plot. In turn, I asked about what papers he’s been signing, documents he’s been drafting, etc.

The only thing I had to do was send glares to any young ladies we passed, settling my hand on his arm possessively, and I saw their eyes widen and faces disappear behind fans as they whisper to one another. I can picture this illustrated in a manhwa- the nasty princess sinking her claws into the gullible prince… hopefully all these ladies will start gossiping and we can really cement this evil persona of mine now that Cressida’s here.

When we returned to our separate apartments, I explored my rooms a bit until servants came to get me ready for dinner, and I slipped back into the frigid bitch persona. The servant girls dressed me in a slightly stuffy gown, but I had to admit, I looked gorgeous. I sat stiff and straight as they did my hair, forcing myself to be the very picture of cold indifference. I then dismissively thanked them for their help, then sat there awkwardly as they stared at me like I was crazy.

Ohhhh shit…. The original story hadn’t prepared me for this. My character was a villain, yes, but a side character for the most part! How was she supposed to act towards her servants? I went over what I knew- the novel showed the villainess alone quite often, usually obsessing over Eric and plotting/stalking. It showed her with Eric, and how distant and awkward their relationship was when together. And then of course the numerous scenes with Cressida where the Villainess did all sorts of heinous things to the sweet girl. But… it never depicted her with servants, or even any friends or other nobles. Just… Eric and Cressida. Was other me not actually a bitch all the time? Am I being unnecessarily rude right now? Oh god I’m such an idiot.

The story is told through Cressida’s point of view- of course there’s more depth to my own character than I initially thought! The Villianess must be a misunderstood introvert! Unsure of how to act around her crush, she’s fiercely insecure and jealous of this new girl who doesn’t struggle the same way she does. When she notices the prince slipping from her grasp, she acts out against Cressida because she can’t bear to lose Eric!

As someone’s who’s worked minimum wage jobs and struggled with social anxiety most of my life, I try to be nice to the people just working to survive, but here I am acting like these poor women are the dirt beneath my shoe…. Ok. Um. Well they’re still standing there in shock, I can fix this….

“You really did a lovely job… my hair has never looked so gorgeous, you’re truly talented! And I think the prince will be very pleased with this choice of ribbon!”

There- I was nicer, and I brought it back to Eric, so I’m still the lovesick fiancé whose entire world is waiting for her in the dining room. I frowned as the servants scuttled out of the room with hurried excuses, all of them looking like they were about to faint. Damn it… I can’t believe I misread the relationship between us. I probably just ruined their night by being uncharacteristically rude. I’ve gotta learn their names next time…. Maybe ask them to help me eat some fancy pastries as an apology…?

I didn’t know it, but while I was lamenting how wrong I was about the Villainess’ character, the servants were all gossiping to the others about what had just transpired.

“You’re telling me she said THANK YOU!?”

“Yes!!! And then you should have seen how nervous she got! She just rambled, blurting out such a sweet compliment, and she even tied it back to the prince!”

“I had no idea how precious she was… I can’t believe I never realized she’s just shy! In a new place, all alone aside from her new fiancé…. Who I gather she’s got a bit of a crush on! Poor dear.”

“Ohh our sweet girl, I’m sure it must be hard bonding with the prince, when all you do is sit yards apart and hardly speak …”

“Well I may have some news about that… and it’s no wonder she was a bit flustered today, because I saw the two of them in the gardens today! They were both nothing but smiles- absolutely smitten with one another!”

“Such a lovely girl, and we never knew it all this time!”

Apparently, I had it backwards. The real villainess truly was a 2D, basic character. She was insecure and possessive over the prince, bullying Cressida half to remind her who Eric belonged to, half for the fun of it. But she didn’t let on to anyone about the true depth of her love for him. She didn’t gossip to her handmaid, didn’t ask the servants which dress he would like better. Simply acted as if they did not exist, hardly saying a word to them.

While I thought my blunt “thank you” was colder than they were used to, and then tried to smooth things over…. It was more words than they’d heard from me in the whole time I’d lived in the palace. They lapped it up and declared me their own shy little dove after that.

When I arrived to dinner, I realized why daily dinners weren’t exactly a bonding activity for the villainess and Eric. The table was massive, and only held two chairs, one at either end. It felt so…. Cold?

Eric had beat me there, and quickly stood up from his seat, waiting until I sat and a servant pushed in my chair to retake his own seat. He smiled at me and said,

“Good evening, princess.”

He had to project his voice slightly. It wasn’t like he was shouting or being loud, it was just the manner of speaking you use when talking to an elderly relative, clearer, and enunciating better so they could hear you.

I replied back, projecting my voice similarly, and found the conversation was, in fact, more awkward than it had been earlier. We ate our food mostly in silence, occasionally one of us would say something and the other would stop moving their utensils on their plate, listening closer as they ask,

“What’s that?”

By the time dinner was over and we each went to bed, I felt drained. I could have just been louder I suppose- but it’s so hard to keep up a conversation like that. I know we get along- we had chatted all afternoon after all. But some part of me realized it’s probably good to keep a bit of distance between us, even if I’ve rewritten things to be a bit chummier between the two of us. Cressida needs to swoop in and steal him from me… and my job is still to leave that room for her to do so.

It’s hard trying to be someone else, yet also making sure you lead the plot in the right direction- it’s exhausting! I feel like both director and actress!

It’s with this in mind that I launch myself into the softest bed I’d ever felt, and passed out. My first day as princess consort, the Yandere fiancé, complete.

While I was getting acquainted with my feather bed, Eric was speaking with the head waitstaff.

“Yes, tomorrow, would you mind adjusting the seating situation? I’d like for the princess consort and I to be closer together from now on. Yes, and ask my assistant to arrange my schedules like so, I’ve detailed it here. Thank you.”

At the same time, Cressida was recounting her run in with the prince and I to her handmaiden as she finishing unpacking and settling into her family’s guest apartments. Which, unbeknownst to me… was right across the hall.

Aaaa! You survived your first day! And look at you- doing suuuuch a good job staying true to character. Nothing could go wrong… right?

Tag list for the series;

@bitternsweet @tonightwrites @confused-they @lanxianschoenheit @poptrim @siriuslyobsessedwithfiction @one-really-annoying-tree-rat @anonymousdisco @forbidden-sunlight

Tag list closed! Stay tuned for part 3!

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖁𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖃 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 (𝕱𝖊𝖒)

You were inside an otome game, an old classic that you found while searching for games of the same genre.

Imagine your surprise when you realized you were inside the otome game "My Pure Elegant Love," a medieval-style otome game with nobles, kings, and knights. You had just woken up, finding yourself as the daughter of a duke, any duke. Perhaps for a brief moment, you thought you could have reincarnated as Amelie, the protagonist of this game, but you were far from it.

You quickly befriended Amélie; her sweetness and gentleness were at least forced, but you knew that was the vibe of the game. Perhaps being the daughter of a duke, you could meet other characters, like Claude, the noble and best friend of Amélie in the plot and one of the favorite characters of the small group that played this forgotten game, damn it.

There was also Nathan, one of the strongest and most talented knights in the plot. We can't forget about Kalisto, the protagonist's younger brother who had a crush on her, Luka, one of the princes and also a romantic partner in the plot, as well as the wizard Azrael, and the first Duke Eros, all romantic interests of the protagonist.

Being the daughter of a simple duke, you knew you wouldn't have a chance with those of high status like Luka, the first prince. You weren't the protagonist, but you couldn't help but envy her. Perhaps because she was receiving love from handsome boys? Or perhaps because even in this life, in this game, you weren't loved by your family. You thought that being the daughter of a duke would give you some privileges, but oh, how wrong you were. Neglected by your parents, hated by the romantic interests of the protagonist, and simply having a bad reputation.

You thought you were becoming friends with Claude and that you might even win his love, but that was thrown out the window when they all decided to embarrass you at the prince's luxurious party. You didn't know that wearing a dress that Luka himself gave you would make you the target of everyone's ridicule.

"How could you do this, [name]?" How could you? You didn't do anything wrong! There, in front of the stairs with the prince behind her, was the protagonist, wearing the same dress as yours, but prettier. Perhaps because her perfect protagonist's body and beauty were helping her.

All the protagonist's romantic interests, including the ones you liked on the other side of the screen, were looking at you with anger, perhaps even smiling as if it were planned by them, by all of them, including his highness, who at first seemed not to like you, treating you even like a servant. You envy how they were all around that bitch, comforting her, as if you were the villain, which you never were.

Everyone talked, laughed, and even mocked. "I can't believe Miss Amélie has a friend like that!" You heard a lady saying, looking down. Not even your parents cared about you, at this point, you're probably being disowned by the family.

With tears on your face, after trying to explain the misunderstanding to everyone, after being slapped by his highness and the protagonist, you felt like crap. Pulling on the dress, you turned and ran out of the hall, opening the doors brutally. You couldn't stay in that room anymore, not when everyone was now looking at you with hatred.

Unaware, you came across a balcony, hearing footsteps coming. You were scared; the prince might have sent guards after you after you "lied" to everyone while explaining.

With all your strength, you push through the balcony fence, and as you're about to jump, someone forcefully opens the doors, startling you and causing you to slip, now falling to the ground. Your tears are now stronger, groaning in pain as you try to get up.

It was with pain, dirt, and tears that you ended up behind a bush. You couldn't take it anymore; you were shaking from the cold, crying, your makeup smudged, your hair dirty and messy, your "copied" dress dirty and torn. You've never felt so worthless before.

You cried as if you were carrying all the burdens, thinking about how the romantic pairs and the protagonist were not the best; in fact, they were the worst.

Feeling a headache, you sit down, trying to breathe well and calm down as you think, "And now?"

"What's a maiden doing crying in the middle of the woods?" Looking back, you noticed someone coming, a boy. Turning your head forward, you try to wipe away the tears. You don't like anyone seeing you cry; crying is for weak people.

Then you felt something being thrown over you, a thick, large coat. Lifting your head, you now look at the boy in front of you. His melodic and calm voice speaks as he gently crouches in front of you.

"Can you tell me, fair lady?"

You sobbed, trying not to cry, mocking the nickname the boy gave you.

"Fair lady? The way I am right now, I'm barely even a girl, let alone fair or a lady," you say as you use your own dress to clean up the mess of makeup and tears.

"I don't think that," the boy continues to clean as he speaks. "To be honest, I think you're even more beautiful. You just can't see it."

The boy's hands lift your stained and dirty face. You look and notice the looks he's giving, but they're not directed at the protagonist like everyone else's; they're for you.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" His calm and concerned eyes are looking at you, waiting for your response.

You just look aside before sighing. It's better than nothing.

"His Highness, the prince, had given me a dress as a gift... to wear at the ball today, but my friend - no, Miss Amélie was wearing the same one. Some of her friends started mocking me for trying to 'copy' the girl, but when I tried to explain, His Highness said he would never give me a gift in his life, especially knowing that his 'friend' Amélie would be wearing it today," you almost can't finish without starting to cry again, sobbing as you try to explain.

"They all planned to humiliate me in front of everyone, and His Highness still insists that I'm lying!" You say, already crying again, not noticing the arms going around you. You only notice when you feel being embraced by the boy as you cling to him, crying and sobbing.

"My dear, they don't deserve your kindness or your presence. What they did was extremely awful to a lady like you," the boy says as he strokes your hair and back, comforting you, as you've always wished to be.

You were clinging to the boy, feeling betrayed, feeling used. You didn't even notice the boy raising his hand to someone behind you, to someone dressed in black, a gentleman, but not the prince's gentleman, oh no, not that traitor.

You didn't even realize how the castle was beginning to stir.

"Let's go, I'll take you somewhere else. You might end up getting sick staying here," he says as he watches you cling to him. He could feel your warmth, you were starting to get sick from crying so much. Nomura's heart was breaking at the thought of you falling ill.

"Are you okay with this, miss?" The boy asks before you nod in agreement. Nomura gets ready and picks you up bridal-style, using his own coat that was on top of you as a blanket to protect you as he carried you to his own carriage.

Watching as you had already fainted from crying, he held you gently as the carriage headed towards his castle, leaving behind an important part of the game that was happening, unaware that the game's villain was now holding you firmly.

Do I do a part 2?

KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR

WIND AND MOON • Sanemi x tsuguko!Reader

A/N: or, Sanemi nearly murders Maeda to protect Reader’s honor, featuring Reader getting to wear Sanemi’s haori.

A snippet from an upcoming chapter of Wind and Moon.

CW: MDNI • light strangulation (deserved) • implied past sexual assault against Reader (not described) • implied assault of Sanemi’s mother (not described) • protective Sanemi • soft Sanemi • ust kiss already jfc • violence

Sanemi Shinazugawa was never particularly keen on visiting the Corps’ tailor. His hatred for the bespeckled seamster was no secret among the slayers, nor was his reasoning. Most of the Corps disliked Maeda — particularly those female slayers forced to endure his unwanted attentions, who, when presented with too-small and too-short garments, saw his feigned incompetence for what it was: perversion.

Sanemi, however, was the one of the only few who’d ever called him out directly for being a lecherous asshole. And he certainly was one of the only ones who Maeda genuinely feared — enough so, that he became remarkably adept at his job whenever he heard so much as a whisper of the Wind Pillar’s presence.

And yet, Sanemi knew that their previous encounter — one that ended with Maeda pissing his pants while begging for forgiveness Sanemi had been in no position to give as the female slayer he’d groped stood nearby, red faced and humiliated — didn’t seem to have inspired the tailor to make any permanent changes to his deviant habits.

So no, Sanemi was already not in the best of moods as he stalked through the hallways of the Butterfly Mansion, in search of the fitting rooms where Kocho had informed him Maeda would be fitting his new tsuguko — you — for your final uniform.

He was wryly optimistic that the lecherous tailor wouldn’t try anything knowing who you were and of your proximity to him. But still, Sanemi didn’t like that he’d left you alone with Maeda for any period of time, and he was eager to get you suited up so the two of you could return to training.

Training. Sanemi had been warned that your breathing techniques, though powerful, were about as stable as a barrel of gun powder near a lit match. He would need to prioritize your precision, your control, before moving onto anything to do with your actual movements and fighting abilities.

He scowled. It would be a long day, he knew. You had an attitude and a smart mouth he was fairly sure couldn’t be beaten out of you, and grudgingly, he thought he might have to just endure it. You’d probably spend most of your time bitching; of that he was certain. But unluckily for you, you’d been assigned to the Hashira with the least amount of sympathy when it came to training; one whose disdain for complaining was rivaled only by Iguro’s.

At least he only worked his trainees to the point of vomiting or passing out; Iguro tortured the poor bastards, and he relished doing so.

And so, Sanemi began mentally tallying up the various exercises and tasks the two of you would undertake as he rounded the last corner leading to the fitting rooms. He would start with breathing techniques, he decided as he reached for the doorknob. Breathing techniques, and then physical exercises — pushups, planks, perhaps even over a bed of tacks for motivation, and then —

All of the Wind Pillar’s internal planning ground to a halt the moment he swung the door to the dressing room open. In an instant, all thoughts of endurance and strength-enhancing regiments dissolved as Sanemi’s vision turned crimson at what lay before him.

His tsuguko; and though you’d proven yourself more than capable of testing his patience, for once, it wasn’t your smart mouth that was making him see red.

It was the sight of you, standing up on a small pedestal before a great mirror, clothed in scraps of fabric that could hardly be called a uniform as the Corp’s perverted tailor circled you like a vulture does a piece of felled prey.

He didn’t need to look at you for long before his vision tunneled in on the seamster startling back from you as though burned, his eyes wide with fear as he stared at the reddening face of the Wind Hashira behind you.

Because Sanemi didn’t have to linger; he’d seen enough to know.

Your skirt hung a solid inch shorter than even the Love Hashira’s, its hem barely extending past the tops of your thighs. Your shirt was easily two or three sizes too small, preventing you from fastening anything but the bottom two buttons.

But it wasn’t the egregiously little coverage of your uniform that loosened the lid he tried to keep on his rage. It was your face. Though your back was facing him, he could see every inch of you — exposed as you were — reflected in that great mirror.

There was a rigidity in your limbs that Sanemi clocked instantly as paralysis; and the empty, haunted look in your eyes as they fixed wide and unseeing at some distant point on the floor coupled with the way you’d hadn’t so much as flinched when the door flung open signaled to him that you were not truly present in that room at all.

You were back at your family’s estate, blood-soaked and half-dead as you were forced to endure whatever it was those bandits had take upon themselves to do.

And Sanemi disappeared from the room right along with you. In that moment, he instead saw the countless other female slayers forced to endure Maeda’s greedy, wandering fingers over the years as they stood exposed under his beady little eyes.

He saw his mother turning rigid under his father’s too heavy, too rough hands as he dragged them down her body. Ma, who would force her mouth into that distant, practiced smile she always maintained in front of her children who were too young to understand why Kyogo dragged her by arm out the back of their home as he barked at them to stay inside until she returned.

He saw you; broken and bleeding in the snow, your clothes askew, unable to be left alone even in death; used.

Red. Red. Sanemi could only see red as his feet carried him across the floor.

“M-Master Shinazugawa!” Maeda squeaked as he began trembling; loud enoufh for his voice to carry down the hall, a futile effort to alert any nearby Corps members of the rage burning in Sanemi’s eyes as the latter advanced on him. “How w-wonderful it is to see you a-gain —!”

With nothing but a faint buzzing in his ears and an anger-numbed mind, Sanemi’s hand snatched the tailor around his throat before he could think the better of it.

“I thought I made myself pretty damn clear the last time I saw your ugly mug of the need for you to keep those filthy fuckin’ hands to yourself.”

Sanemi’s voice was a barely more than a growl, low and dangerous and vicious. “And I thought I told you what would happen if I caught you makin’ a mockery out of our uniform again.”

The seamster’s cheeks were rapidly turning purple as Maeda sputtered. But Sanemi only tightened his hold around the tailor’s throat, lifting him from the ground until his toes only scraped along the floorboards.

“Y’know, I’ve had to hold my tongue for far too fuckin’ long about you.” Sanemi cocked his head in consideration. A slow, wolfish smile stretched across his mouth, all sharp teeth and a vicious promise that he could and would rip out his throat. “But you’ve got some balls for someone who’s too much of a rutting coward to fight the demons we give our lives to exterminate.”

A crowd of curious and horrified junior slayers had gathered out in the hall, nervously watching as the Wind Pillar threatened to squeeze the life out of the Corp’s sole tailor.

Behind them, you remained frozen on the pedestal, though your eyes had shifted away from the floor, focusing instead on him.

Sanemi wrenched the tailor closer until they were nearly nose-to-nose, his fingers digging harshly into the soft, fleshy portion of the tailor’s neck. “And you dare make a mockery out of our uniform? You think I’m okay that you’re putting female slayers at risk by not giving them proper protection? What sort of person does that to their comrades?”

Sanemi’s pupils shrank to pinpricks. “You’re not even fuckin’ human. You’re no better than a god damn demon.”

The muscles in the Wind Pillar’s forearm rippled as his fingers crushed around Maeda’s throat. “And we’re required to put demons outta their fuckin’ misery. So, whaddya think that means for you, shitstain?”

There was a distinct wet dripping against the floorboards as Sanemi remained there, Maeda suspended before him.

Sanemi didn’t need to look down to know what it was; its scent alone was enough of a give away.

Urine.

That feral grin of his only widened. Good, Sanemi thought savagely. The bastard should fear for his life. And who gave a shit, really, if he took out the creep right then and there. It didn’t matter that he was the only tailor in their ranks capable of manufacturing their uniforms with speed and precision. Sanemi would trade his sword in for a needle, if it meant wiping away the stain that was Maeda.

But Sanemi’s wild, murderous rage was tempered by the sudden arrival of the Insect Pillar, who had appeared in the room in a blink of an eye, her small hand wrapped harshly around Sanemi’s wrist.

Her voice was hard and severe as she ordered, “Shinazugawa, stop!”

Sanemi only snarled in response, his hand squeezing tighter and tighter. Just a little more pressure and it would be over, Maeda would never harm another woman again —

Kocho wrenched on his arm once more. While her strength wasn’t enough to force his grip to relax, it did jostle Sanemi enough that he looked away, just long enough to catch the pair of eyes that watched him closely in the mirror.

Your eyes.

Sanemi found himself unable to look away as the two of you stared at one another in the mirror’s reflection. And though that haunted look remained, there was a newfound tightness in your gaze.

Pain, he recognized. There was pain in your eyes, too. And suddenly, Sanemi became all too aware of the fact you were still exposed, only now in front of a greater number of your comrades than before.

Sanemi held your eyes for one more moment before his hand opened around Maeda’s throat.

“Pissed himself like a little bitch.” He sneered, dropping the lecherous tailor to the ground where he crumbled like a napkin.

Maeda sputtered and heaved on the floor, color rapidly returning to his face as he gasped for breath.

Sanemi only looked after him with disgust.

The Butterfly Mansion’s mistress turned sharply toward the entryway. “Away.” She ordered before she turned back. But the instant the word left her lips, the gaggle of junior Corps members who had congregated in the hallway dispersed.

Sanemi cut his eyes to the Insect Hashira and saw a cold rage simmering in her eyes. Eyes that were not looking at him, but were instead glued to the sniveling mass on the floor, whimpering into a puddle of his own urine.

“P-please, forgive me, Master Shinazugawa! I must have packed the wrong uniform — I will sew a n-new one right away —“

“Save it,” Sanemi spat. “And get the fuck outta my sight.”

Though he wanted add in a kick for good measure, Sanemi held back. He was likely in deep enough shit as it was, once word reached the Master about what he’d done. He knew better than to continue testing the Corps’ limits.

Kocho inclined her head back toward the Wind Pillar. “I will see to it that a new uniform is prepared for her immediately.”

She made to step primly over Maeda’s shuddering form, but halted.

Kocho crouched down, low. “I think we both know that you’re better off keeping this to yourself and never mentioning it again, hm?”

Maeda turned his reddened face up toward the Insect Pillar and shrank under her withering glare.

Kocho’s answering smile was nothing but poisoned honey as she dropped her eyes to the wet stain that soaked the front of Maeda’s trousers. “If you wish to hold onto what’s precious to you, that is.”

She narrowed her eyes coldly, as though squinting for something, before she rose with a faint scoff, her threat hanging over Maeda like a cloud.

The Insect Hashira turned back to Sanemi. “I trust you will see yourselves out?”

Sanemi felt a rush of gratitude toward his comrade — likely only one of two among the Pillars who wouldn’t rat him out to the Master — and curtly nodded his head.

Kocho only gave him her usual, practiced smile. “Until next time, then.”

With that, the mistress of the Butterfly Estate departed. The moment the edge of her haori flapped around the corner of the doorway, Sanemi dropped his attention down to Maeda.

“Fuck off.”

The tailor made not a peep as he scrambled to his feet and he left the dressing room without a word.

——

Finally left alone, Sanemi turned to you.

“Y/N.”

You blinked, surprised. He’d addressed you by your first name — something that, until this moment, you’d been fairly sure he hadn’t known.

You made some noise in response, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, exposed as you are.

Shinazugawa didn’t seem to mind. “Let’s go.”

While you were just as eager to get the hell out of the dressing room and away from the Butterfly Mansion, you remained rooted in place upon that platform.

Not a moment had passed since Maeda had first unveiled your new attire that you hadn’t been acutely aware of your own exposure.

You gulped and cast your eyes around the room. You found the neat pile of the clothes you’d worn for the trip here folded in the corner of the dressing area. While Shinazugawa had made a point to keep his eyes on everything but you, you couldn’t fathom having to wear the scrap of a uniform you’d been given for the entire journey back to his estate.

But nor did you want to change again; you couldn’t, not when that would require you to be left alone, a possibility that seemed nearly as daunting as having to brave the trek home in little more than a loincloth.

You agonized over your options, especially as you felt Shinazugawa’s impatience mount. You shifted anxiously from foot to foot, arms wrapped tightly around your chest in a desperate attempt to keep your breasts concealed as you struggled to make the words — any words, really, dislodge from where they’d become stuck in your throat.

Annoyed by your lack of inaction, Shinazugawa looked back into the mirror. In its reflection, you saw him open his mouth, ready to snap at you, but the moment his eyes connected with yours, it closed.

An understanding passed between you right then, as heavy the silence that hung between you.

Shinazugawa considered you for a moment before his hands went to the front folds of his haori. A strange shyness fell over you while he shrugged out of it, causing you to drop your gaze as he rounded the pedestal, haori in hand.

He shoved the ball of white fabric at you, though he kept his gaze fixed pointedly at the ground. “Here. Use this to cover up.”

Timidly, you plucked the Wind Pillar’s haori from his outstretched hand and quickly turned away.

Though it sat cropped on him, the hem of Shinazugawa’s haori extended past the laughably short one of your skirt, providing your backside with a bearable degree of coverage.

It was warm; and to your surprise, it smelled nice, a familiar, grassy sweetness washing over you as you pushed your arm through one of the holes.

Shinazugawa had turned his back to you, his hands notched firmly on his hips as he waited. You tested the reach of his haori, relieved to find that you could wrap it around your front and hold it easily in place by folding your arms across your chest.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror. The white fabric reached a good three inches down your thighs, all vulnerable areas sufficiently covered.

It would do, you decided. At least until you returned to the Wind Pillar’s estate.

“I’m ready.” You said softly after a moment. Shinazugawa only looked back at you and nodded, before the two of you quietly made your way through and out the Butterfly Estate, setting down the path that led home.

Neither of you spoke for the entire journey. Instead, you were left to stare at the broad expanse Shinazugawa’s back.

The Wind Pillar wore a slightly modified version of the Corps’ uniform, you realized. His top was sleeveless and without the presence of his haori, you saw that his biceps and shoulders were just as solid and well-defined as the rest of him.

No wonder he’d been able to lift Maeda so easily from the ground; Shinazugawa’s biceps were huge. Though, you noted with some mild interest, the skin of his arms was just as scar-specked as the rest of him.

Idly, you wondered whether the scars dotting his face and body were products of his years with the Corps — a tapestry of battles hard-won, or whether they, like yours, were part of a past he wished he could forget.

You arrived back at the Wind Pillar’s estate shortly before sunset. The moment he set foot inside the gate surrounding his manor, Shinazugawa turns to you and holds up a hand.

“Wait here.”

Without another word, he disappears inside of his manor, leaving you alone in the courtyard, slightly bemused.

The Wind Pillar returned a few moments later, a familiar, dark green fabric draped over his hand.

“Here,” he held out the material to you. “Still had one from when I was a Mizunoto. Might not fit you properly, but it’s better than nothin’.”

You accept his offering and then it over in your hands, eyes running over the crisp white destroy sewn into the back. Below the shirt is a pair of pants, in the same, dark-green tinted hue as the shirt.

“I know it doesn’t mean much,” Shinazugawa’s voice was gruff as he spoke. Curious, you lifted your eyes to find him rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “But if I’d’ve known what he was gonna pull —“

You shook your head. “Don’t. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Truthfully, you didn’t want his apologies. To apologize meant there’d been an expectation, and expectation meant there’d been some trust he’d broken. While he may have been your master — while he may have been the one whose face you could not forget from that day — nothing about either of those things meant he owed you anything.

Shinazugawa looked like he was going to argue, but he closed his mouth and turned away.

Good, you thought. At least he knew to pick his battles.

“We’ll start training once you get your uniform in.” He said after a moment, turning away to retreat into his estate. “Get settled here and once it arrives, we’ll start.”

You nod, your fingers clenching tightly around the front folds of his haori. Though you know you’re safe out here, that Shinazugawa has no interest in overstepping any of your boundaries, you still feel too exposed.

More than anything, you want to retreat to your small room at the back wing of his manor, and disappear under your covers.

The Wind Pillar seems to know, for he only gives you a curt nod, before he turns back to the great, sprawling Estate, and takes the entry stairs up two at a time.

You wait a moment before following. You’ll have to figure out how to return him his haori, you realize. Perhaps you’ll drop it off at his room later in the night, when he’s likely to be asleep, or maybe you’ll wait until breakfast —

“Y/N.”

Your foot halted mid-air as you lifted your head to him, waiting.

Shinazugawa lingered on his engawa, though he kept his back to you.

“I won’t leave you alone with another man again. That’s a promise.”

You wanted to snap at him that he shouldn’t do this — he shouldn’t create obligations that he couldn’t or wouldn’t keep. That was the only way this transaction between the two of you would work; Shinazugawa would train you and once you’d gathered enough of a grip over your own abilities, you’d fuck out of his life and pursue your own, greater ambitions.

That’s what you should say, and yet, his words strike at something soft in you. Reminds you, once again that for whatever reason, he is someone you can rely upon; someone you can trust.

The exception.

And it’s because of that, you only respond, “Thank you.”

PHANTASMAGORIA

PART ONE ♔ PART TWO ♔ PART THREE

BUNDLE OF JOY

PART ONE ♔ PART TWO

BUNDLE OF JOY ONE-SHOTS

THE THING ABOUT GENYA ♔ VENERATION

SEASONS IN LOVE

PART ONE ♔ PART TWO

IN THE NETHERWOOD

KINKTOBER 2023 ♔ RED RIDING HOOD X WEREWOLF!SANEMI

PART I ♔ PART II ♔

PART 2.5 ♔ PART III

♔ PART IV

COMPASS

PART I • GASOLINE ON FIRE (first kiss one-shot)

THE WIND & MOON

(Sanemi x Lunar Pillar!Reader)

PROLOGUE • KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR (chapter teaser)

that's cute agsvajshwhdb

Roommates - Atsumu Miya x reader

From my Haikyuu Request game - requested by D.

Atsumu is already in the kitchen when you come home.

“Samu?” You yell through the apartment. “Your brother is eating my snacks again!”

“There’s no name on it!” Atsumu cuts in before Osamu can interject. “I checked.”

“Yeah, but you can’t read.” You drop your stuff on the kitchen counter and squint at the package in his hand.

“Never mind, that’s Samu’s.”

“Told you!” Atsumu gloats right until you smack him in the head with a packet of ground coffee.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there.”

He mutters and grumbles but he stays where he is, chewing down the expensive cheese crackers Osamu seems to buy in builk.

You keep pretending he’s not here, knowing you’ll just lose your temper the second he makes you open your mouth. 

That strategy has been working well the last few months and if you can keep making it work you won’t have to find a different apartment to move into.

-

Atsumu is lounging on the Couch when you come back from jogging, sweat dripping in your eyes as you lean down to untie your shoes.

“Damn, you go out like that?” He asks and you fling your sweat-soaked towel at him, sucking in a smile when he shrieks in disgust.

“Don’t you have training to be at?” You ask, proud of your even tone.

“Got sent home because I kept throwing up.” He moans and you turn on your heel to glare at him.

“And you come here?”

“Yeah?” His voice comes out whiney and child-like. “It’s not like I can go home to my mom, that’s too far away.”

You decide to leave him on the couch, far away from you. 

Getting sick is the last thing you need right now. 

But you text Samu in the privacy of the bathroom, chewing your lip as you wait for his answer.

With all the fighting the boys have going on, you’ve picked up right away that they do care for each other, just in their own way.

By the time you’re out of the shower, Samu’s in the kitchen cooking something and Atsumu is curled up on the couch, a hot water bottle pressed against his middle.

“I’m out.” You tell Samu quietly, eyeing the bundle on the couch. “You need anything?”

“Can you get me the lecture notes from today? You know Sazama, she can give them to you.”

“Ooh, Sazama.” You wink at him. “I’ll be sure to mention that you’re still single.”

“Stop that.” Samu moves to hit your shoulder playfully but you step out of the way, content to see the blush on his cheeks. You knew it.

-

Atsumu’s pretending that he’s not in your room and you’re getting sick of it.

“You know you’re not allowed in here.” You remind him from where you’re sitting at your desk, typing furiously as you try and finish that train wreck of an assignment.

“I’m not ‘in here’.” He emphasizes from where’s standing in the open door. You can see his reflection in the window if you squint and his left foot is clearly overstepping into your room.

“You are. You’re just exploiting the fact that I can’t get up right now to close the door.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He whistles a tune, leaning further into the doorframe.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“No.”

You bite your tongue when your mind supplies another question. You don’t have time for this.

You manage to lose yourself to your focus but his voice pulls you out of it again.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“What?” You almost flinch at the sound behind you. “Sorry, what did you say?”

The look on his face is something you haven’t seen on him before. He pushes himself off the doorframe before you can place it. 

“I’ll get you some water.”

“Uh, thank you?” You start before realizing that he’s going to use it as a ploy to step further into your room, the only space in the apartment you’ve managed to keep away from him - so far.

“Wait, I’ll get it myself.” You rush after him.

-

You’re not surprised to have one of the twins turn up in your room at their own birthday party. You’re just surprised it’s Atsumu.

“You’re reading?” He asks as the door of your room clicks shut behind him and he sags into your desk chair.

“Yep.” You turn a page, deciding that you can be civil for a day and not throw him out.

“What’s it about?”

“It’s for Class but it’s kinda interesting.” You take a sip of your water but his eyes stay locked onto you. Okay, that’s weird.

You clear your throat awkwardly and try to summarize the book, only to stop in the middle of your sentence.

“Okay.” You say and lower your book further to glare at him. “Spill. What’s going on with you?”

He shrugs. “Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that shit. You’re the social butterfly in this household. Why are you not with the others?”

“Can’t just come and check in on you?”

“It’s your birthday party, Atsumu.”

“Why do you never call me by my nickname?” The question comes out of left-field and you’re left gaping at him for a moment before you can form a single word.

“What?”

“You call Samu Samu and Suna is Rin. And just now you called Captain Shin. But you always call me Atsumu.”

“Shin’s my cousin.” You remind him and he rolls his eyes.

“That’s not what I was getting at.” 

Yeah. You know that. You just don’t want to think about it.

“Will you go back to the party if I come with you?” There’s that thing again, moving over his face like a shadow, too fast to decipher. But he nods and gets up, stretching his hand out to help you out of bed.

“Pajamas good enough for your party?” You joke.

“Seriously? I’m afraid you don’t have anything better in your closet anyway.”

He ducks out of your reach just in time.

-

Tsumu is sitting in front of your apartment door, when you get home, head hanging low.

You don’t have to text Samu, you already know the score. MSBY lost and you don’t know what’s worse for him. Losing or losing by an inch, knowing he could have won.

“Hey.” You tap his boots with your own. “I was going to watch that awful movie you’ve kept talking about. Want to watch it with me and make it more bearable with your commentary?”

He looks tired and spent when he raises his head but he nods.

You stretch out your hand for him and he eyes it for a moment before taking it, allowing you to pull him up.

He’s quiet when you prep the snacks, always two steps behind you in the kitchen.

On a different day, you’d yell at him for it, tell him to at least get the drinks ready. But not today.

He settles heavily on the couch, his knee knocking into yours as you make yourself comfortable.

You pull a blanket over your lap and pretend that this is fine. Everything is fine.

Five minutes into the movie his head falls heavy onto your shoulders and you let out a sigh that’s been caught in your chest for months now.

In two hours Samu is going to be home.

In four hours you’ll go to bed and pretend that everything is fine. That you don’t care at all about Tsumu sleeping on the couch, heartbroken and tired after a loss.

Something slips in your chest as if a dislocated joint finally finds its home again, and you dig your elbow into Tsumu’s side.

“What?” He grumbles and you swallow what’s left of the knot in your throat.

“Get up. You can sleep in my bed.”

“What?”

“I won’t offer again.” 

You know you’re fighting a losing battle the moment he slips under your covers like he’s always been supposed to be there.

You know you’ve already lost when he curls around your side, his head on your shoulder, his arm a heavy weight across your stomach.

It feels like this is how it’s supposed to be.

-

Tsumu’s in your bed when you wake up, unfairly long lashes fluttering over sunkissed cheeks, nose crunched up in his sleep.

You turn slowly, partly to protect your poor heart from this sight so early in the morning, partly to get your phone.

You’ve got two messages from Samu.

“Hey, I know Tsumu was here but I can’t reach him. How was he when he left?”

The other, sent twenty minutes later, has your cheeks aflame.

“His shoes are still here? I think I’ll steer clear of your room tonight.”

You press your phone to your chest, too embarrassed to think of a response, knowing you’ll come face-to-face with him soon anyway. 

Movement to your left pulls your attention back to the situation at hand.

Tsumu’s blinking at you.

Like this, in the early morning light, he looks like innocence personified. 

He looks like Sunshine and easy laughter, like dancing in the rain.

He looks like someone who could break your heart and you’d let him do it.

That’s why you pull away, push yourself to the edge of the bed to get out, away, before this mess can get any messier.

His hand catches yours before you can, though.

“Stay.” He asks.

“Tsumu.” You plead. 

You can hear the smile on his lips when he speaks.

“You’re calling me Tsumu.”

You shrug, cradling your heart in your hand, your back towards him to protect what’s left of it.

“Could you love me?” He asks, voice low and soft. “Like, not right now, I know that’s not possible, but, in the future? Is there a chance you could like me at least? I mean you’ve let me sleep in here and I know I’m a mess but-”

“I already love you.” Your voice is so quiet you hope he hasn’t heard you. But his grip on your hand tightens and you know he didn’t miss a word.

-

Tsumu is already in the kitchen when you come home.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Are you eating my snacks again?!”

“They’re Samu’s!” Atsumu grins at you from across the counter, cheeky and undeterred. “I checked.”

“I heard that!” Samu yells from the living room. “Give them back.”

“Come and get them.” Tsumu taunts as he leans forward to kiss you. You block him with a hand on his chest.

“Not the cheese crackers, Tsum. They smell so bad.”

“But baby!” He whines. “I want a kiss!”

“Brush your teeth first, then we’re talking.” You tell him flatly and he pouts before dropping the crackers and leaving for the bathroom.

You get back to putting the food away, grinning at Samu when he steps into the kitchen, an impressed look on his face.

“I never thought that would work.”

“Well, your cheese crackers are safe. Now keep your end of the deal.”

“Fine.” He huffs and grabs the opened bag of crackers from the counter. “Apartment is yours till tomorrow. Onigiri are already in the fridge.” 

You roll your eyes at him. "We could order Pizza. Tsumu will survive without your food for one day."

"Tsumu can what?" Strong arms wrapped themselves around you and pulled you back into your boyfriend, his minty fresh breath ghosting over your face as he put his head on your shoulder.

He eyed his brother.

"What are you still doing here? Don't you have a Date with Sazami?"

"It's my apartment too, you know!" Samu grumbled but he did not sound half as mad as he could get.

“Bye Samu. Stay away Samu.”

My Kofi if you want to tip me