she tastes just like candy ❤︎

roomate!choso who'd spend hours in the bathroom each time he'd finish jerking off. steam curling around him as the water beat against his shoulders, knowing nothing of your perverted routine. you’d lock your door, head propped up against your mount of pillows. slutty shorts with an obvious wet spot, bunched up 'round your ankles. right hand holding your favorite vibrator to your pulsing clit, your left holding his dirty boxers to your fucking face. you could feel your skin burn hot as the vibrations from your toy just felt sooo fucking good. taking a deep inhale of his cum-stained undies, resisting the urge to just lap at the damp stains, pretending it was his pretty tip instead. your eyes fluttered shut. desperately wishing it was his cock suffocating you and not his measly pair of cum-derwear while you played with yourself. the only bad thing about all of this is that is each time you were left a leaky and shaking mess, you just wished you weren't so… empty. wishing you had choso’s thick cock pulsing inside you instead, coaxing an orgasm out of you.

roomate!choso who’d innocently & happily introduce you to his many brothers, adoring the fact they all utterly adored you. despite the innocence of the gesture, you couldn’t help but get so ... excited, and not in the normal way of course. you just couldn't help it! your pervy brain would be fantasizing about creaming allll over his cock once he finally put a ring on you, how could he not? his brothers loved you, you couldn't wait to make them all uncles. you'd be sucha perfect addition to the family. you didn’t mind the wait. you were sure he’d soon come to his senses, and see you justtt how you saw him!

roomate!choso who felt sooo fucking guilty for fisting his aching cock to the thought of you after accidentally getting a glimpse of you in the shower. but still.. not like you left the door open on purpose! thumb rubbing over back and forth over his ruby red tip, chanting your name like a prayer. "fuuck, baby y'gonna make me cum~," he'd whimper, twisting his nipple between his fingers, "pleasepleaseplease, ohgod". tossing his head back against his pillow in utter bliss, imagining you bouncing yourself upp and down his cock, pretty tits bouncing right in his fucking face. begging him to put a baby in you. doing his best and failing to conceal his pitiful moans and whines by biting down on his shirt, sweat trickling down his abs. hips rutting up into his lubed up fist, arching off the mattress. he felt like a disgusting pervert... how could he could he have done something so.. icky?? getting off to the thought of breeding his favorite girl in the world. it all made him soo dizzy.

roomate!choso who'd be playing video games in his room, while you'd be in yours, practicing your arch and moans juuuust for him. if he was gonna fuck you then of course you had to be the best slut you could be. you'd spend hours studying porno's, watching closely at the face the girls made when they'd orgasm. how'd they arch and whine whenever they'd get their poor cunts pounded from the back by some unrealistically polished dick. you wonder if choso was shaved down there.. or if he had a bush. you didn't care you though. you'd burry your face whatever he had going on. you were a frequent visitor on 'how to make a man cum down your throat in under a minute?'. you couldn't wait to try it out on him. you thought about how good he'd look while you were on your knees pleasing him. pathetically snapping his hips into you, your nose pressed against his public bone. what it'd feel like if he were to stuff his throbbing cock allll the way down your perfect little throat, as you hollowed your cheeks around him, tongue lapping eagerly at his blushing tip collecting every single thing he had to give you. fuck, the mere thought just made you embarrassingly wet.

roomate!choso had come home early today without telling you and was just so excited to suprise you, like the cute pup he was, he even got chocolate chip cookies for bake day! he was adorable. he was going to alert you of his early arrival.. but he noticed your door was cracked open. before he knocked he could hear a faint ‘bzzzzzz’... oh.. "c-choso, more~" oh??

roomate!choso whose chest started to feel way too fucking tight all of a sudden. “fuuuckkkk– right there, plsplspls choso.” the poor man almost died right there. did you just.. say his name?? while getting off?? he felt blood rush to his face.. and well, his dick too. this.. this couldn't be right, you couldn't be getting off to him?? he could feel unwanted pressure build in his lower belly. you were the reason why he now laid fucked out, breathless with his cock twitching against his abdomen, cum splattered all the up way to his chest. he was so so screwed.. but you couldn't help being overly pleased at the fact choso was getting off to you.. getting off to him. you really couldn't wait to fuck him now.

roomate!choso who tried his best to be a gentleman on baking night. but you were wearing suchh a fucking skimpy tank top with no bra, and cutest slutty shorts he’s ever seen. they even had a mini bow for fucks sake. maybe cus' your pussy would be the world's best gift afterall. it was .. distracting to say the least. you were just begging him to fuck you at this point. but no! that couldn't be it.. he'd just assume you felt extra comfortable around him. he didn't want you to think he was some sort of goon who jerked off to his roomie whenever they got the chance! .. ahem.. you.

roomate!choso all giddy that he'd finally get to spend some time with his favorite girl after a crazy ass week. cutely unaware of the aphrodisiac filled chocolate chips you planned on putting the cookies the two of you would bake tonight.

a/n. soo will choso actually fuck you or not and turn out to be a bigger perv than you in pt2 ... ? i dont knowwww!

he lets you get three steps.

then grabs you by the waist like he’s opening a jar.

“toji, i swear to god—”

“ah,” he says, hand smacking your ass once while he walks, “she speaks.”

you wriggle, kick, curse—shriek when he dumps you belly-down on the bed with all the reverence of unloading a gym bag and manhandles you over the edge, shirt rucked up, panties yanked halfway down before you can even process it, his hand warm and heavy between your shoulder blades to keep you flat.

“what the fuck is your problem—”

“babe,” he cuts in, calm as hell, “you gave me the silent treatment for six hours because i forgot your fucking dipping sauce.”

you gasp, affronted. “that’s not—!”

“shhh.” he flips your panties off. “don’t care.”

you flail. his palm lands on your ass again, harder this time. smack. you jolt, hiss, grind your teeth while your cunt clenches around nothing, traitorous and wet and already giving you away.

“mad at me,” he mutters, dragging his thumb down the cleft of your ass, slow and lazy, “but not mad enough to lock the door. not mad enough to put pants on.”

“i wasn’t—”

“you’re drippin’, baby.”

and fuck. you are. slick and throbbing, thighs tense, cunt clenching like it’s hoping he’ll put his mouth on you and shut you up properly, like it wants him to win this one, even if you don’t.

you try to turn over. he presses down harder.

“nuh-uh,” he murmurs, settling on his knees behind you. “you act like a brat, you get treated like one.”

you want to say fuck you. you want to say this doesn’t count as an apology. you want to say something, anything, but then he spreads your ass with both hands and spits on your pussy like it’s his fucking property, and your brain goes blank.

“messy little thing,” he says, almost fond, tongue dragging a slick stripe through your folds like he’s wiping you clean before he devours you whole, “should make you say sorry with your legs open.”

and then he does it. he bends down. licks you like he’s been waiting to all day. slow and deep, tongue flattening, dragging, nosing up against your clit while his hands grip your hips to keep you wide open and wobbling. he’s not gentle. he’s not trying to be. he’s eating you like it’s an insult that you thought he wouldn’t, moaning into your cunt while your fingers claw the sheets and your mouth opens around a sound you didn’t mean to make.

“god—toji—”

“mm.” he presses closer. “not mad anymore?”

“shut up—”

“nah,” he mumbles against your clit, “you had your turn.”

and then he sucks. hard. sucks like he’s trying to rip it out of you, like this is about punishment now, about ownership, about making you cry into the mattress so he can say see? see what happens when you ignore me?

you cum fast—loud and shaking, fingers slipping on the sheets, mouth open in a silent sob, and he doesn’t stop, not even when your thighs start to close, not even when you say okay okay i’m sorry i’m sorry, not even when you start to sound sincere.

he pulls back eventually. wipes his mouth on your ass.

you’re panting. twitching. ruined.

he lets you get three steps.

then grabs you by the waist like he’s opening a jar.

“toji, i swear to god—”

“ah,” he says, hand smacking your ass once while he walks, “she speaks.”

you wriggle, kick, curse—shriek when he dumps you belly-down on the bed with all the reverence of unloading a gym bag and manhandles you over the edge, shirt rucked up, panties yanked halfway down before you can even process it, his hand warm and heavy between your shoulder blades to keep you flat.

“what the fuck is your problem—”

“babe,” he cuts in, calm as hell, “you gave me the silent treatment for six hours because i forgot your fucking dipping sauce.”

you gasp, affronted. “that’s not—!”

“shhh.” he flips your panties off. “don’t care.”

you flail. his palm lands on your ass again, harder this time. smack. you jolt, hiss, grind your teeth while your cunt clenches around nothing, traitorous and wet and already giving you away.

“mad at me,” he mutters, dragging his thumb down the cleft of your ass, slow and lazy, “but not mad enough to lock the door. not mad enough to put pants on.”

“i wasn’t—”

“you’re drippin’, baby.”

and fuck. you are. slick and throbbing, thighs tense, cunt clenching like it’s hoping he’ll put his mouth on you and shut you up properly, like it wants him to win this one, even if you don’t.

you try to turn over. he presses down harder.

“nuh-uh,” he murmurs, settling on his knees behind you. “you act like a brat, you get treated like one.”

you want to say fuck you. you want to say this doesn’t count as an apology. you want to say something, anything, but then he spreads your ass with both hands and spits on your pussy like it’s his fucking property, and your brain goes blank.

“messy little thing,” he says, almost fond, tongue dragging a slick stripe through your folds like he’s wiping you clean before he devours you whole, “should make you say sorry with your legs open.”

and then he does it. he bends down. licks you like he’s been waiting to all day. slow and deep, tongue flattening, dragging, nosing up against your clit while his hands grip your hips to keep you wide open and wobbling. he’s not gentle. he’s not trying to be. he’s eating you like it’s an insult that you thought he wouldn’t, moaning into your cunt while your fingers claw the sheets and your mouth opens around a sound you didn’t mean to make.

“god—toji—”

“mm.” he presses closer. “not mad anymore?”

“shut up—”

“nah,” he mumbles against your clit, “you had your turn.”

and then he sucks. hard. sucks like he’s trying to rip it out of you, like this is about punishment now, about ownership, about making you cry into the mattress so he can say see? see what happens when you ignore me?

you cum fast—loud and shaking, fingers slipping on the sheets, mouth open in a silent sob, and he doesn’t stop, not even when your thighs start to close, not even when you say okay okay i’m sorry i’m sorry, not even when you start to sound sincere.

he pulls back eventually. wipes his mouth on your ass.

you’re panting. twitching. ruined.

he was a big man, so very muscular in all the right places. his chest dwarfed your frame as he caged you in against his bed, his hands could wrap fully around your neck if he really tried, and his thighs stay steady and thick as he gently pressed the leaky head of his de-armoured cock into your cunt.

"oh god, suguru–"

"–shh, just let me take care of you, princess."

and oh god, did he. like every other night he had you split open so nicely, cumming so hard you'd felt the gong of gods cymbal smack down on your head and vibrate through your body in the most euphoric way.

and that was the thing about suguru, he knew not only how to take care of you in bed, but in day-to-day life as well.

as your personal knight, he'd been by your side under orders from your father to protect you since forever. you two were of similar age, so the bond formed almost immediately. a bond that'd grown ten fold since then.

suguru keeps you wedged against his chest after he'd finished ravishing you, he's got one protective arm caging you in against his muscular pec, and the other moving through your hair with a loving care he's never learned to give anyone else.

his chest rises and falls sporadically as he catches his breathe, and you sigh into his neck with that post-sex relief.

he'd always been gentle with you, even when you were small. when trailing behind him through towering stone corridors, he never rushed you. when you tripped over the long fabric of your gowns, he never laughed. he would kneel down and check your hands, smooth your hair back into place with the same kindness he gives you now.

later, when you're older and have learned to keep your posture straight, he still keeps that methodical, caring habit alive in the way he grabs your arm when you stumble or holds your hand when descending the castle stairs.

a perfect gentleman.

he cradles your naked body softly in his palms, the only thought swimming though his mind is how utterly perfect you feel, you look, against him, in his bed, in his arms.

"you did so well for me, honey." he whispers, still stroking through the locks of you hair. you can only blush in response as your earlier actions had taken the ability to speak.

he stretches his lips near your temple but doesn't kiss you just yet. “you're perfect,” he sighs, his vocal range dropping to a decibel. “every time, i think there's no way to love you more than i already do. and then, by some miracle, you enthrall me again.”

what a way with words.

but, you let out a little sigh that definitely isn't one of contentment, but of dread.

“what is it?” he asks, although he could already guess.

events from earlier today had sat and simmered in between you like a wound that had not stopped pouring blood. your father had decided it was optimal time for you to be married off in your coming of age. a prince from a far away land had expressed his interest in you, and that was that. you were due to be wedded and shipped off with him by next month.

suguru stood beside you clad in brass armour, clutching his sword with an iron fist while listening with hot rage bubbling in his stomach.

you complain to suguru, even now. "he spoke of me as if i were nothing..” you whisper. “like my life meant less than pennies to him.”

he sighs into your neck and hooks a hand around your thigh to bring it over his hips.

“i wanted to scream,” you add. “i wanted to tell him i belong here.. i belong to you.” you're getting shaky, and it's not only from the sex.

he nudges your cheek with his nose and hugs you tighter, “i know,” he whispers. “i wish i had some weight in that room to of spoken up, my love.”

squeezing the muscle of his forearm, you stare up into his tired eyes with a huff. “i wish we could run. leave this place and all my roles and rules behind. we could settle down in a cottage in the countryside, a place so far away no one would know of my prestige.”

you smile despite yourself. “we would wake with the sun, maybe farm our own food. live like people are supposed to live, without silver spoons and draping silk.”

his hand cups the back of your head now as he pulls your face closer, the look in his eyes so poignant.

“i would build that place with my own hands,” he says softly. “i'd make sure the roof would never leak. i'd plant you a flower garden so exquisite, you'd never miss the castle courtyard."

you're already smiling like a mad women, but he continues despite it.

"i would wake before you every morning so you'd never have to feel alone. i'd work the most gruelling of jobs to provide for you, my princess."

his voice plunges deeper and you can tell he's feeling the weight of earlier. “i would give up every vow i've ever sworn if it meant i could live out the rest of my days with you as my own. i would walk to the ends of the land and beyond it if that's what it took.”

he leans his forehead against yours. “but the world doesn't let men like me take princesses and disappear, i'm afraid. men like me get shunned for even dreaming up such an idea.”

your chest feels disgustingly tight with the urge to sob, but you can't just yet, maybe when you leave. “that's what they are, only dreams.”

"i know too well." he sighs.

~

the next week drags out in silks and different fabrics in every shade of white you could possibly fathom.

you spend the better part of the day in town being shoved and pulled from dressmaker to dressmaker, from one shop to the next by your maid utahime's eager hand, bolts of such fabrics unrolled and lifted against your frame. there's pale ivory, a warm cream, a sheen that felt beautiful but felt a little too bright, lace that scratches your armpits, silk that slides cool across your skin.

not a single dress felt right, not to be married off to some pompous prick halfway across the country, anyway.

after all, this dress acted as the golden casket that'll fairy you far away. away from suguru.

utahime chatters about mesh trains and veils and double stitched hems. some might say she should of been a seamstress herself with the way she was waffling on about the craft. she holds fabrics to your shoulders and tilts her head, asking for opinions she barely waits to hear before she off to the next.

god, she meant well but was making the entire experience ten times as unbearable with her fussing.

the only thing keeping you lucid was suguru, who stood tall besides you the entire fitting.

he stands just behind you in every shop, a shadow at your back. his armor traded for travel leathers as to not draw more attention by village folk.

you notice how his hands are folded tightly behind his back, as his eyes follow each length of silk as it presses to your body.

"you're quite the starer today, suguru." you let a small laugh slip past your lips, contrasting the various thoughts of offing yourself to get out of this from earlier.

he acts as if he's not talking to you, but whispers through gritted teeth, "how can i help it when you're half undressed right in front of me?" you smile.

finally, as the sun dips its toes below the horizon line and the final bundle of expensive silk is wrapped and handed off, your head aches from merchant bartering. utahime heads back toward the castle gates with the fabrics clutched to her chest, already raving about how exquisite the dress will turn out.

you do not follow.

the moment her back is turned, you grab suguru’s wrist and pull him the other way.

he's startled for the moment, then smiles as he lets you drag him past the outer wall where the stone has cracked and ivy has claimed the small gaps in between. there's a narrow breakaway crook hidden by overgrown vine and moss, an entry to a place only the two of you ever use to get away.

you pull him along as you run, laughing and letting go of all the intensity of today.

your ruffled skirts lift up into your hands as you dart through tall grasses, your fancy shoes sinking into earth that smells of wet soil and budding flora. you hear him behind you, his armors gone yet he's still as sturdy and driven as ever, his laughter bellowing out as he chases you without effort.

you almost trip on a root and he catches you from behind, he steadies your shoulders until the both of you skid to a stop against the old stone wall that borders all four sides of the forgotten garden. wildflowers bloom and kiss against your skirts, thick oak branches tower above, and the river cuts through the land.

you're both smiling like fools in love.

he keeps you there pressed up against the wall. with one arm stuck beside your shoulder and the other squeezing your hip. smiling, he tips his head down until your foreheads kiss together.

“how lovely did you look in all of those gowns,” he mumbles so fondly, “every dress they put you in... i had to remind myself we were out rather than in my room, all alone.”

you look up at him through thick, fluttery lashes. “oh?”

“gorgeous,” he elaborates with a spark of deep appreciation in his eye. “each one worse than the last. i don't think i've ever worked so hard to keep my hands where they belong.”

you lean back against the stone and gaze up once more, sunlight breaking through the autumn leaves to catch in his raven locks. “i was imagining marrying you in them instead,” you say simply. “standing at the altar with you. not some prince of whom i don't know."

this seems to resonate with him, because the look of pure allurement on this mans face sends a shock of affection through your every bone. he smiles tenderly before taking your lips in a quick kiss, and when he pulls away, he rests his forehead back against yours.

“these are the moments i'll cherish. all the small gestures we share will live eternally in my head, when you're gone.”

you feel a stab of nausea hit your stomach... “i wish you wouldn't say things like that., we're a long ways away from being separated.”

he nods, then cups your cheek. “i'm sorry, you're right. i should live in the moment, huh?”

he ponders that thought more than you think.

he steps back, then plops himself down onto the grass. you watch, confused, as he kneels and begins to gather cute white daisies from the ground, choosing them carefully and brushing dirt from their stems.

you sit on a fallen log nearby and peer down at him, “what are you doing, strange man?” you tease.

he doesn't look up, you can tell he's got some cheek in him at the moment. “shoosh,” he says gently. “let me work.”

you really wanna laugh, but doing so might disrupt his flow. so, instead, you take in the surroundings you may never see again.

this garden's been a place the two of you had escaped to numerous times. weather that be to hide form your dictating father, from the other workers around the castle, or your jester, gojo, and the jokes you found appalling but geto loved to no end.

"what do you call a girl so infatuated with her knight that she sends her maids to do chores that don't exist so she can get dicked down?"

"don't."

"[name]! you call her [name]." gojo snickers regardless.

"i'll have you be-headed!" you snap, he just laughs louder and punches geto's armored shoulder.

"aww, but mr. knight wouldn't stand for that, would you sugu? and everyone knows you do what he says!" he eggs on. suguru quite literally can't help the snicker that erupts from his throat, but he quickly stops and coughs awkwardly into his shoulder when he catches the glare you throw his way. "that was ahem very inappropriate, satoru." but you can see his mouth still twitching.

they were always a menacing duo.

you'd begun to reminisce about the days where your future was uncertain and you could still dream of a life with suguru. you'd sit on this very log and brush through his long black strands, talking his ear off about how he'd be your knight for all of eternity, and that he'd be stuck by your side until the day you keeled over from the flu or something. he'd listen so intently, offer his own two cents.

"i'd fight many epic battles to stay by your side, pretty girl. you're but the only one for me."

"oh yeah? sure you're not just saying that because we're forced to hang out?"

he scoffed, "i've been approached by many women, i'll have you know. none of them get me hard as soon as i see em', not like you can."

you roll your eyes, but smile regardless. "here i was thinking you'd say something chivalrous and poetic."

"is you god like effect on my cock not poetic enough for you, my lady?"

"oh shut your mouth."

"great, so now i can't even appreciate that i serve the finest woman of all the land."

you whip your head to face him, "lands, not land. how dare you limit my range of ethereal beauty to this country alone."

the conversations always ended in the euphoric kind of sex only soulmates could manage to have, the kind so deep and sensual you'd loose all track of time and space, leaving two sweaty bodies and wishes of a full future with one another between bated breath. the grass beneath you would bend and part a soft bed for you to lay down your need.

you'll mourn this loss.

you're hauled from your depressing thoughts when he finishes and stands to offer you his hand. you take it with an intrigued smirk, letting him pull you to your feet. his other hand stays hidden behind his back with what you can only assume is a daisy creation of some sort.

"what in the world are you up to?" you grin.

he lifts his hidden hand and, like you'd thought, reveals a crown of daisies woven carefully together with their stems tucked into each other. he reaches out and places it upon your head with a touch so delicate it makes your chest churn.

it sits a little crooked, but oh so perfectly.

you lift your hands to fix it to your head better, turning away so he falls just out of your veiw. "thank you-” you start, turning back toward him.

then the words stop, immediately.

he's on one knee.

your vision starts to blur at the edges, not from your lacking in iron or dizziness, but from pure and utter disbelief.

his hand guides slowly to his pocket. he pulls out a simple band, a wedding band. it's been worn smooth, the metal dulled by time. it's not ornate, it's certainly not what most would consider fit for a crown.

it's perfect.

“i have carried this for years,” he says. his voice is steady, but his eyes give him away with the sheer look of desperation pooling within them. “it was my mothers. she gave it to me when i first told her of you, she knew how in love with you i was before i did.” he smiles solemnly.

he turns his eyes to stare directly into yours.

“if by some miracle this marriage does not go forth,” he continues. “if the world blips and gives us a chance, even for a breath of time, i want you to know that i'm yours.”

he swallows deeply, then goes on. “i know what i am. i know what i can offer. i've but no titles, no land. only my hands, my loyalty, and a life i promise to spend choosing you each, and every day.”

his fingers tighten around the ring. “i would wake beside you and consider that my life long victory. i would serve you without a sword and protect you without any armor. i would love you sincerely until the day we both die.”

he shakes slightly as his voice falls softer like melting butter. “and if that miracle never comes, if you are taken from this place and sent away, i want to know that somewhere in the world, sometime, there was a moment where you were mine in truth. where i knelt before you not as a knight, but as a man asking for your life alongside his.”

he lifts the ring slightly. “so if fate is cruel, let it be cruel later. let me ask you this now.”

he peers up at you looking hopeful and terrified all at once.

“will you marry me?”

obviously, you'd said yes. (not long after the water works and disbelieving laughs.)

you'd spent the better part of that afternoon crying softly in his arms on the comfort of the soft grasses, the reality of the situation you were trying so hard to push away was slowly becoming very real, and this proposal from the man you'd soon be leaving made it all that much more set in stone.

sugur cradled you as you cried and kept telling you over and over how everything would be okay, that it would all work out in the end if god was real, like he'd so hoped she was.

you nodded into his chest, letting his reassurance feed the delusions you'd been harboring of a better furure.

~

you both pretended time was something that could be bent if ignored long enough. so, two weeks had trickled by as you filled your remaining time with things you loved.

you filled it with him.

there were multiple nights where you got not one wink of sleep. not because you were restless, but instead because you kept finding reasons to stay awake together doing anything and everything.

his bed became a ritual spot filled with passionate love that drifted so easily into the early hours of the morning. and afterward, you would lie all tired and tangled up talking of anything your mind could come up with, things you might of said in the future pouring out now so you'd feel a little more at ease for not being able to say them later on.

he'd stayed as respectful as ever, never touching you without some kind of permission weather that be a nod or a smile, he'd always been careful. somehow even now, when he wanted you more than anything, he still treated you like the most important soul in this cruel universe.

during the days you spent as much time as you possibly could with your knight.

one afternoon you'd both stolen various foods from the castle kitchens and escaped the grounds on horseback, riding until the castle was just an insignificant, dumb little shape behind the rolling green hills. you laid out a checkered maroon blanket near the rippling river and ate with your fingers, laughing when he tried to keep sauce from dripping onto his tunic.

suguru pretended to huff at you for your appalling table manners, but would then lean over and steal unnecessarily heaping bites from your pastries. you lay on your back after pigging out, fondly watching the shapes and patterns of the clouds swish in the wind above, his much larger hand resting over yours in the grass.

"do they have clouds where you're going?" he asked.

"are you silly? of course they do."

"...yes, but ones like this, with me next to you?"

"... guess not.." you mutter.

"then you should stop staring at me and enjoy this, it may be the last time we watch them together." he laughs, although there's nothing funny about that.

after your time in lala land, the night before the wedding had arrived.

you were in his bed again after what might of been the last time you'd ever have sex, it had been as nice as every other time, yet it felt personally like the both of you were trying to make it last forever with the way you'd spout, again, again, again, into his ear, and he'd almost immediately oblige.

once you're finished, his arms begin running up and down your body like they'd always done after, your mind racks through each and every time he'd done it before and you feel close to tears for what might of been the fiftieth time that week.

in the quiet, he softly rasps, “hey,” his fingers are still methodically moving along your back, “are you awake?"

you tilt your head against his chest, his heartbeat is thumping under your ear, very much still stubbornly alive.

“i am,” you sit up so you can see his pretty face. he looks younger in these moments, almost as if hes the boy who followed you through the halls with a sword far too big for him and a sense of duty he never, ever strayed from.

“can i tell you something.”

"mhm, anything."

“i’ve been thinking about my life,” he says. then he huffs quietly at himself. “which sounds dramatic. i know.”

“you’re allowed,” you say. “it’s kind of the end of the world.”

"isn't that the truth." he mumbles.. “i remember the day they assigned me to you,” he smiles. “i was barely old enough to hold my stance for more than a minute. they told me i’d be guarding royalty and all i could think was that i was going to ruin it.”

you hum softly.

“and i almost did,” he says. “every time you spoke to me. never knew what to do with myself.”

you laugh, “mm, you used to bow so low i thought you’d fall over.”

“i was terrified of you,” he admits. “you weren't rude to me. you were so sweet, you smiled at me like i was more than just another person who served your father. and that felt so strange.”

he smiles at you softly as you shift to sit on his lap looking down at him.

“each day i served you, i felt so fulfilled,” he continues, “i threw the whole idea of being professional aside, you became someone i’d stand in front of out of my own fruition rather than duty.”

you trace the edge of his protrding collarbone. you know this story, he'd said it a million times, but you let him tell it again anyway.

"the day we started... y'know, actually being together, i stayed up all night thanking my lucky stars." you melt at the way his face turns to a blushy, mushy mess. "that was, to this day, the best time of my life, [name]."

you lean down so your nose rubs against his, making him laugh softly as you fall back onto the bed beside him. "i think about that often, too. i was such a nervous wreck. you we're kinda like a big scary protector so it was... weird, confessing."

he turns his head, resting his forehead against yours. “i know, but look at us now.” you kiss his lips gently.

“i used to watch you train,” you say after pulling away. “from the window. i’d pretend i was bored, i wasn’t." he laughs again, "i knew exactly when you’d look up to see if i was there, it was really cute.”

he laughs quietly. “you noticed that?”

“i noticed everything about you. i guess i just liked knowing you were paying as much attention to me as i were you.” his thick fingers tighten up into the flesh of your waist.

“god, i was like, really greedy,” you add. “pissed me off when my father suggested putting you on the front gate instead of next to me all the time, i wanted all of you to myself.”

“you had me all to yourself, honey.” he says immediately. “you always will, okay?”

"always... i don't know about that." you sigh, and he goes quiet before trying to make you feel better like he always did.

“it’s going to be okay, i’ll be there. the whole time, yeah? you won’t be alone.”

you lift your hand and bring it to your mouth, kissing the ring he'd proposed to you with before you let it fall back against your naked chest. you smile contently, although you feel anything but.

“i know.."

~

it's the morning of the wedding, and god, if everyone wasn't being insufferable.

people are pulling you around before the ceremony like a ragdoll and touching you all over making you look all dolled up. you hated it.

you couldn't take another second, you slip into the hallway for air and find yourself pacing up and down, your white dress slipping against the stone of the floor.

although, you're stopped dead in your tracks when you hear a gasp behind you.

suguru stands there in his full metal armor like he’s forgotten how to breathe.

he stares at you with a slack jaw for a good thirty seconds in complete awe. he reaches towards your body to steady himself rather than you, his hands land on your delicate shoulders.

“you look…god” he laughs breathlessly. “my lord, i don’t even have the words..”

he drops to one knee in front of you without hesitation. the sound of armor against stone rings out, echoing in the deserted hall. he drops his helmet besides him as he takes your hand like a precious treasure sought after by millions, then presses his lips to your knuckles with an infatuating reverence.

“you are but the most breathtaking woman i've ever laid eyes on,” he sighs.

you watch as he searches your hands for the ring he'd slipped on that day, and you draw out the necklace from beneath your dress, letting the ring fall into view at the end of the chain, "so it's close to my heart."

his smile makes one blossom on your face as well.

“good,” he huffs. “just needed to know you had it.”

you start to speak, but he clears his throat to stop whatever sad something he knows is about to come from you.

“you’ll be absolutely perfect up there,” he says. “even if it’s not with me, sweetheart.”

you want to reply, you really do, but the heat and stingy sensation in your eyes only grows with each thought of saying something to this man.

so, he speaks for you.

“[name], i’m sorry,” he mumbles, staring you dead in the eye as all of his bottled up thoughts spill plainly and dry, right in front of you.

“my sweet girl, i'll be forever sorry that i wasn’t born a prince. that i was born with dirty blood, not worthy of being yours in the eyes of society."

"stop, suguru. don't-"

"i'm sorry that i couldn't stay by your side forever, that i couldn't protect you for endless years to come."

your chest feels like its wrapping around itself and suffocating you from the inside. “i said don’t-” you start up again, only to be shut down once more with sugurus strained voice, you'd think he might cry.

“i'm sorry, my princess, for not being able to keep my promise to you... for that i am most sorry of all.”

he looks up at you like this might be the last time.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t give you the future you deserved.” he chokes out. "i’m sorry our relationship has to come to an end, but know, i'll never forget you, darling. the time we spent together will be a constant in my mind for centuries to come."

you're about to throw yourself into his arms, but your ears prick on your name that echoes down the hall and you turn your head.

the doors to the wedding hall are opening.

you whip back around to face him, but he's pulled his helmet over his head so the only essence of him you can see is the long flowing ponytail that protrudes from behind him.

"goodbye, my love." he swallows down the crack in his voice.

then, later, as you walk down that long isle with your arm around the princes arm, suguru watches you through the small slit in his helmet.

you look gorgeous, yet all he can do is wish that it could of been him.

the sight is so gutting, it pulls a single tear from his eye. he never cried, never. but now, as he watches the girl of his dreams being given away to another, he can't help but silently sob beneath his armor.

you look over at him once, and you spot that tear.

you look away, knowing that if you were to stare even a moment longer, you too would start the breaking down, mourning the loss of the man you could never have again in front of everyone.

no, there was time for that when you were settled in your new castle a long ways away, couped up silently in your room with only you and your thoughts.

only then could you properly sob, only now, weeks after you'd been married and shipped off, could the ghost of suguru geto finally haunt your solemn narrative.

A/N: i'm so sorry 💔