Maybe one day...

Remy always brings you to mixers and on group hang outs so you know all of his friends and their girlfriends. A lot of them often assume that you and Remy are together, and it’s hard to dispute it because Remy flirts with you all the time.

And you let him because you think it’s just how he is, he’s a flirtatious and physically affectionate person, oblivious to his huge crush on you. In spite of the obvious signs such as his constant nitpicking any and all of your potential dates.

“Don’t go out with that guy, chérie, he a no good cheat at poker. No honor.”

“You don’t want that boy to have your number. You better off staying in with moi tonight.”

“You gon’ wear a fine dress like that for a boy with a 2.3 GPA, mon ange? Non, what a waste. Let me take you out to the jazz lounge I told you ‘bout.”

Frat boy!Remy who genuinely just cares about you, makes sure you’re not falling behind in class or in life. Remy meal preps for you during the week, he helps you study even though he hates studying himself.

Going on late night snack drives with Frat boy!Remy and he wraps his arms around you from behind as you seriously contemplate the candy aisle.

“You know I’ll buy you every piece of sugar you want, mon ange, no need to pick and choose.”

Who carries all the bags, opens your doors, walks on the outside of the sidewalk from the bar to the car with your arm linked through his because he’s still a gentleman.

Frat boy!Remy who once bets you a kiss at a bar that he can guess the next card you pull from his deck and you know he knows his deck like the back of his hand, but fuck it, you kind of want kiss him.

“C’mere, bebe,” He murmurs smugly when you flip your card to show him that he guessed correctly. “Been waitin’ for this.” He says before you register it and you let him pull you into a drunken kiss.

It’s a slow and experimental kiss, at first, until he finds a rhythm that makes you moan in content and lean further into his firm chest. “You’re such a good kisser.” You whisper bashfully, surprised by how normal it feels to kiss him.

And you keep letting him kiss you afterwards. Regardless of where you are.

During late night study sessions in your dorm or in some dark corner of a bar when you’re out with a group, kissing him back shyly and blushing from his flirty lines in between pecks.

You do consider for a moment how this might complicate your friendship, but only for a moment because Remy then lifts you onto the nearest ledge and slips his tongue into your mouth, making you forget everything else except how good he is at that.

It’s college and you’re only hot and young once so why not make bad decisions with a hot friend?

Frat boy!Remy who asks you to be his girl every other week and you playfully say no, insisting you’re better off as friends — even though you wouldn’t be making out with anyone else like you do with him.

“So when we kiss, we kiss as friends?” He asks teasingly with a smirk and you laugh, nodding slowly, your face warm as he walks over and kisses you where you’re sitting on the end of his bed.

“Friends can kiss.” You murmur, cupping his face, his stubble tickling your palms as he moves to hover over you with one hand on your hip and the other by your head as you low back on his bed.

“Hm,” Remy hums against your lips before trailing down to your jaw. “You kiss your girl friends the way you kiss me, chérie?” You laugh, swatting playfully at his chest and continuing the kiss.

Frat boy!Remy who sneaks into your dorm late at night for a make out and stays for a cuddle until you have to quietly shoo him out because he’s being too loud with his talking, making you laugh, and flirting and he will wake your roommate.

Frat boy!Remy who hates when his frat brothers flirt with you at mixers and it doesn’t take much for him to sidle up beside you, offering you a drink, and bringing you into a slow and hot kiss right there.

Frat boy!Remy who starts to say things he shouldn’t when he kisses you for too long or when he drinks too much like how he can’t bear the thought of seeing you with someone else, or how you’re the only girl he can’t seem to stop thinking about.

“You so damn pretty, chérie,” He murmurs against your lips in a celebratory kiss while you’re sitting sideways in his lap long after a game has ended and he won the pot. “Can’t believe you let a fool like me waste your time.”

“You wouldn’t let me fool around with anyone else, Rem.” You giggle, pushing his hair back playfully and caressing his jaw while he laughs because he can’t deny his constant meddling in your dating life. “And I like spending time with you.”

“Mm, ‘m a terrible influence for you.”

“I know, it’s okay, just keep kissing me.”

Frat boy!Remy who takes things further that night in the privacy of his dorm room, unable to pull himself away from you, not ready to move on yet. You’re gasping and moaning his name as he devours your neck, his hands wandering under your clothes.

“Rem, we should stop.” You breathe out, inhaling sharply as his hand slides into your leggings and he feels the damp spot in your panties. Remy groans softly, moving down your sternum and you sigh, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“We should?” He asks, raising your tank top a little to kiss your lower belly and you whine, squirming under him as he smirks. “Or we must?”

“We should,” You say, biting your lip as you lift your hips so he can shimmy your shorts off. “But I don’t think you want to.”

“Non, bebe, I don’t,” Remy licks his lips as he moves your panties to the side, you moan as his thumb rolls gently over your clit and he takes a swipe at your folds with his tongue. “So tell me now to fuck off before it’s too late.”

“Stay.”

Frat boy!Remy who loves to eat pussy and gets so absorbed in the rhythm of it, sucking on your clit and burrowing his tongue into you. You’re crying and begging him to stop an hour in because the pleasure is too much to handle at that point. “Si douce, une si douce petite chatte, bébé.”

So sweet, such a sweet little pussy, baby.

“Remy, please, too much!” You cry out, trembling from head to toe, trying to close your thighs against the overstimulation.

His hands keep your legs spread open and pushed up against your chest. Your fingernails scratch his scalp as you pull his hair and claw at his shoulders trying to slow him down with no avail.

Frat boy!Remy who isn’t afraid to take his time or the lead. He eats you out until you’re spent and dazed with pleasure and then he’s ready for more.

Frat boy!Remy who fucks you slow and hard, keeping a firm hold on your jaw so that you can’t look away from him while he gives you deep and steady strokes. “S-so hard, you-you’re so fucking hard, Rem.” You gasp, brow furrowed in distress because your best friend is inside you and it feels so good.

“You so fuckin’ tight,” He groans against your lips while you scratch down his back and cry his name mid-orgasm. “You always act like you don’t wan’ it, but you do, don’t you, mon ange?”

You can’t help but nod as your lips seek his out again, whining against his kiss as you cling to him. “Can I keep you?” He asks, thrusting hard enough to pound into your cervix and you choke on a moan, nodding helplessly again. “I knew you’d be a good girl for me.”

Frat boy!Remy who makes sure you are loud enough that his frat brothers can hear you down the hall, making it clear that regardless of titles, you belong to someone — him.

My head has recently been plagued by thoughts of Remy as a frat bro and fooling around with him omggg😭 I didn’t know where to begin, but this seems like a good start as I continue to develop this variant of his character:)

Gambit Masterlist

You had him question himself a lot—if every other woman (maybe besides Yamuraiha, but she was his general so it didn’t count) was falling at his feet, blushing and giggling when being flirted with and flattered—how come were you this immune? Was there something wrong with him or you? Was he repulsive to you or was he just not your type? It was a constant dilemma he had, and a source of entertainment and annoyance for his generals, especially Ja’far.

Little did he know, it was simply a matter of having self respect and self awareness. You weren’t stupid, you had eyes and knew Sinbad was extremely handsome, intelligent and fun guy. What truly bothered you were his womanizing behavior. You didn’t want to give a chance to a man who’d only see you as another conquer, another woman on his list, another woman to play… and even if he would ever want to be committed with you, you doubted his ability to be loyal. You’d rather die than see Sinbad flirt with other women while being in relationship with you. You were sure, that he was sitting on his chair as usual, women on each of his legs and on his sides, all fighting who gets to touch their lord.

But Sinbad was so egoistic, he’d probably assume you’re just playing hard to get, or into women. Because surely you have to be interest in your own gender, instead of simply not interested in him, when every woman was different. Sinbad wouldn’t accept the truth.

The fun you had with Yamuraiha, was quickly cut short, when you heard a voice that you grew to be displeased about, as if pavloved to react negatively. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

“Having fun, my ladies?” Sinbad’s voice was full of mellow, not at all unmotivated or offended when he saw your smile automatically die, just to be a stone cold face.

With you and Yam sitting by the table, one of many placed in the warm nightly outside, Sinbad seated himself right next to your friend. Of course he could have seated himself right next to you, but then he wouldn’t have such a pleasant view, of you in your pretty and somewhat revealing tunic. It was as if just sleeves’ mesh material was teasing him. Sinbad smiled at you, usual charm on his lips.

“We were, until you came along,” said Yamuraiha with a sigh. Being drunk, she was prone to complain more than usual, but you shared her sentiment. She knew what Sinbad’s presence meant—him trying to win you over again, something she didn’t wish to see. So she was standing up quickly. “I’d rather get refill than see him hit on you again,” she said grumpily and was walking away already, leaving you alone with the king. “Yam, wait—” you clicked your tongue. Leaving you with Sinbad was so cruel of your friend. You looked at Sinbad, making him smile wider when he got your attention. Of course he’d take advantage of her departure.

“What do you want, Sinbad?” you finally asked with exasperation. Anyone else calling him by first name would be deemed as inappropriate, but it was Sinbad himself who told you to call him just that, the first time his female general introduced you to him as her old friend from Magnostadt academy, coming to Sindria to work for its palace. Of course, you refused this the first time, thinking it’s not in your place to speak so openly with a king. Yet with time and frustrations he put you through, you quickly forgot about being polite—give Sinbad an inch and he’ll take a mile.

“So rude, my lady. Can’t a man talk to the most beautiful woman at this festival?” he said with feigned dramatics, putting his hand at chest, before it was grabbing yours across the table. You tried to take it back, but his grip was tight, forcing you to hold his hand for a while until he decides he’s really crossing your boundary.

“I’m sure that’s what you tell every woman, and the logic says only for one it can be true,” you said bluntly, only making him chuckle. If you’d actually know, what he thinks of you, you’d be surprised. Sinbad had misconceptions about you, but it was mutual for both sides.

“Logically, objectively, I’m sure what I’m saying is nothing but true about you.” You noticed a little, pouty frown on his face when you didn’t blush at his honest compliment. Women back at his seat, waiting for him obediently, yet impatiently, would surely eat up his words.

“It doesn’t change the fact you’d call every woman here beautiful,” you rebutted. Were you wrong? Most definitely not, but Sinbad actually loved bantering with you. At least, that’s what he saw your discussion as, if you were not so eager to talk to him. The way you always challenged him, the way you knew how to debunk his words, the way you didn’t give up, the way you said something so witty occasionally… you were very good at stimulating his intellect. You didn’t coddle him, you didn’t please him, you were fair and square. He was a king, he was a conqueror of the seven seas, but in moments like this, you made him feel like just Sinbad.

But he had to win you over eventually. Only then, he’d be able to rest easily. He’d never admit it openly, but Sinbad was honestly obsessed with you. It wasn’t just some passing attraction, just pure lust towards your body. If anything, it was your person that got him this crazy. Sinbad loved all women, but arguably, he’s never met someone on your level, who saw right through him so easily, exposed him and made sure to play smart with him. You didn’t give unless you knew you’ll be rewarded. You were cruel enough to treat him like another person.

And his patience was slowly falling away. Every free time of the day, hell, even during his work, he couldn’t stop thinking about what it’d be like to hold you, to provoke you, to hear your mind, to make you spill pretty sounds as you’re under him… maybe even on top, if it floats your boat, your another challenge of putting him in his place.

Albeit, he was scared of being in love with you, and baring himself even more for you.

“Y/N,” Sinbad suddenly said, after the uncomfortable silence with your hand in his. Hearing your name, you were about to answer, but your friend came to your rescue, even if it was for her drunk need of dancing with you. No matter how childish it was, you stuck out your tongue at him, especially fueled by alcohol in your bloodstream. Sinbad laughed, but when you were out of his sight, he sighed. He was about to ask you something, and Yamuraiha took you away from him.

“Someone’s being rejected again, it seems,” Ja’far teased from behind, as he found Sinbad in his usual spot whenever the festival happened—right where you were. He sat down right next to his king, and refilled his wine glass without having to be asked. He knew Sinbad better than anyone, even if the knowledge he carried is heavy on his heart sometimes.

“I’m not being rejected, she’s just playing hard to get with me,” Sinbad groaned, before gulping down an entire cup. Alcohol only made him more irritable, it was never good for him either, especially when he ended up in random women’s beds.

“Surely that’s right, Sin,” Ja’far said condescendingly. “Have you ever considered the fact, that y/n is simply not interested in you and you’re only inconveniencing her?” The cold look Sinbad send Ja’far made him somewhat nervous, but he knew he had to push, for both yours and Sinbad’s sake. Even Sindria’s, as Sinbad couldn’t afford any distractions.

“You don’t understand, Ja’far. I won’t be able to rest, until I at least get a kiss from her… this woman is driving me crazy, but I am too deep in this mud to withdraw now,” he whined, and his coldness was now nothing but brattiness, a child who couldn’t get a candy before dinner, when he put his head on the wooden table, looking at Ja’far with lament. It was only so rare, when Sinbad would reveal his true emotions like a moment ago, even more scary.

“What about how she feels?”

“She won’t have to deal with me annoying her anymore, if she just gives in,” Sinbad said as if it was an acceptable solution. “Thats not how it works, Sin. You can’t just wear her down until she says yes.”

Sinbad knew that, somewhat. He was just selfish, not wanting to give up on you. It doesn’t mean he’d mistreat you or anything. At this point, you can even ask to become his wife and queen of Sindria, if it’d mean you’re only his, and actually his. He didn’t want to marry before meeting you, but certain measures were necessary, it seemed to be the case with you. He’d spoil you to your heart’s content, especially when money was no issue for him. The only issue would be making you say yes.

“Then how do I win her over, fairly?” Sinbad asked seriously, knowing Ja’far had no answer. He was met with silence, as shorter man knew you’d rather go to jail than say yes to his king.

“Just let her be, Sin. It’s the time you finally accept your defeat.” His advisor’s words had the opposite effect. The tan man felt only more obliged to win your heart, and his quiet rage was back. “As if I ever could, Ja’far.”

“Sinbad, you seriously need to stop—” he was getting frustrated with his friend’s stubbornness, but then, something was up, when Sinbad was suddenly sitting up and looking into the groups of dancing people.

Sinbad heard your laughter. And as sensitive he became to noticing any changes with you after trying to win your affections for so long, he knew this laughter was worse than usual. It was way too sultry, and if it wasn’t directed towards him, it could have meant only one thing-some man was hitting on you.

His eyes were wide, and he was suddenly very aware of his surroundings, as if on the hunt. “Uh-oh,” Ja’far thought, as he spotted you first and knew what seeing you with another man can mean for Sinbad. No matter how much of a hypocrite it would make his lord, he knew Sinbad wouldn’t accept another man coming onto you. He flirted with other women, but that’s just the way he was, nothing special, so you weren’t allowed to be flirted with—that was Sin’s twisted logic. Ja’far knew you’d probably slap Sinbad if he said this to your face.

“Sinbad, wait—” Ja’far was begging to panic as he saw the king stand up from his seat. He didn’t want him to embarrass himself, to cause you trouble or spread some weird rumors with his behavior, one itd be Ja’Far’s responsibility to clean. But Sinbad was like an animal, walking swiftly towards where you and some disgusting man were dancing, his hand on your waist.

Just a mere moment later, before you’d even notice notice Sinbad’s approach, you were already, suddenly, in his arms and few steps away from the man you were dancing with before. It was now his hand on your waist, other on your shoulder. The man having you before, was confused as you disappeared so quickly, and couldn’t locate you in the storm of dancing couples. All thanks to Sinbad’s swiftness and cunningness, dragging you away from another man without raising up any scene.

“What the hell are you doing, S-” you started angrily, but he cut you off first, bringing you close to him, chest to chest, forcing your chin up. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” he asked somewhat angrily, and you have never seen him in this state. You were even more confused. It was as if he thought you’re not allowed to talk to other men, while he can flirt with anything moving, and you weren’t even in relationship with him. You now were angry yourself. What an audacity, to think everything you do is about him, then accuse you!

You were about to slap him in the face, not so proper of you, but you felt somewhat justified after him constantly bothering you and now being controlling. Sinbad’s reflexes stopped you before you cut his cheek with your hand, but hurt and surprise flashed his eyes. Did you really hate him that much, that you’d try to hit him? He could have guessed, despite his big pride, that if you were reaching levels of violence with him, he must have pissed you off greatly. A mean and sharp comment is what he’d get at most normally, maybe you walking away too. But not a slap, especially if he was a king.

Holding your wrist in his hand, you wriggling with madness, Sinbad decided that you’d do better in somewhere more quiet, before you two would start yelling at each other and disturb everyone partying around you. With same wrist in his hand, he was dragging you away to the garden with a fountain of the palace, somewhere where you can have a private conversation. With the emotions coursing through his veins, he had to control his grip to not hurt you. Any protests and curses you were spilling, he was not answering before he’d have you away from this mess.

You were soon seated on the stone bench, surrounded by all kinds of plants covering you two from being caught. Sinbad stood in front of you, his arms, making you feel vulnerable as his tall form towered over you. He was still silent, looking at you with an unclear to you emotion, and gathering his thoughts.

“Who was that?” he finally asked, frowning. Your annoyance grew. “And why would I tell you that? I’m allowed to speak to other men.”

Sinbad squeezed on his biceps. You had no idea how much your words provoked some sense of possessiveness in him. “You are,” he said through his teeth. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to care,” you said bluntly, momentarily making him laugh at your usual talk, though he quickly was heated again. “I don’t like the sight though. You always reject me, but the moment another man flirts with you, you’re in his arms. How is that fair?” he said gruffly. You rolled your eyes.

“Sinbad, it’s not meant to be fair. I don’t owe you any attraction. I can choose who I want. Not to mention what a hypocrite you are,” you said seriously. “How come you can flirt with other women, but say I can’t flirt with others? You’re so disgusting with it too, because at least I don’t flirt with him while flirting with you.” You always hated this. Sinbad chasing you, while flirting with multiple women. He wasn’t taking you seriously or showing you how much he wants you, if you received the same treatment. You weren’t special in any sense, if every woman and you heard same things from him.

You clearly hit the spot with your words. Sinbad was aware, that technically, you were right. But not everything was black and white, so his perception of the situation was warped. Yes, he flirted with other women, but it wasn’t as serious as with you, and it was just an old habit. While you, you flirted with people you actually were interested in; so not just anyone. That man, for all Sinbad knew, could have been your future husband, if everything would go well for you both.

But he noticed how much his hypocrisy displeased you, and if it bothered you so much, perhaps there was some truth to your words. How were you supposed to trust him, if his eyes are everywhere? Which didn’t mean he wasn’t frustrated with you, or tired of the chase. At first it was just some game for him, a challenge to conquer that one elusive, unreachable for him woman. He’d catch you, then release you. But the more he had a chance to know you, it wasn’t a joke anymore. He was caught in your web before you and he knew it, and now every rejection felt like a small loss, not excitement to go further.

So, Sinbad felt resigned. If his usual methods didn’t work, and he was plenty of manipulative and cunning to win against anyone else, he’d reach the begging stage for you, if he had to. With a sigh, he squatted down, staying on one knee, lowering himself to your level. He grabbed your hand, once again not letting you go.

“If nothing I try is successful, then please, just tell me what will. Whatever it is that I need to prove myself worthy of you, I will,” Sinbad said with determination, though what truly throw you off was the sound of desperation in his tone. “Be honest with me.”

You blinked twice, wondering what was going on, and you had to admit, his words worked on you for a moment, even if mere. But then your mind reminded you of the same scene, just with a princess of Kou Empire. Back then, he was trying to manipulate young Kougyoku with same tactic, while never meaning his affection towards her. He was only taking advantage of her young naivety to get deals he wanted, just when you were taking a walk in same garden. The disgust you felt that day…

That’s why you might as well be his next victim. You were about to tell him there’s nothing that could make him a man you’d entrust your feelings and body with, until a sudden idea popped into your mind. You were plenty of smart yourself, and you just found something that could possibly keep Sinbad away from you permanently.

“There’s one thing you could try,” you said with a small smile, enjoying the look of surprise on his face. “Really?” he asked with newfound enthusiasm. “What is it?”

“Prove it to me that you can be loyal. Stop flirting with anyone else than me. Don’t even look at them.”

When Sinbad looked taken back, you felt smug as hell. Surely, you’ve just given him a challenge that he could never win. No way he can let go of his old habits, something that started when he was just a teenager. “In fact, let’s make a deal,” you continued. “If you don’t flirt with anyone else for a month, I’ll give you a chance, we’ll go on a date. If you lose, you’ll never bother me again.”

Sinbad stayed still, his expression clearly troubled, as his head was stormed with thoughts. The question of whether he could do it, the question of how hard it’d be to stop, the question of if he’d even like this… but also, realizing how often he found himself comparing women he met with you, or the odd sense of dissatisfaction.

He had nothing to lose at this point. This was probably his only chance with you, and he couldn’t screw this up. “Deal,” he said seriously.

Hearing his words, you had to bite down a giggle. He’ll lose, and you finally will be free of his unwanted advances. You really had no trust in his self-control when it came to women.

☆

It was a first week of your given challenge that has passed. Of course, you weren’t able to be there all the time to check if Sinbad was either winning or losing, so you asked Ja’far to keep an eye on Sinbad for you. You were ready for his report, confirming that Sinbad indeed had lost.

Approaching Ja’far in his office, you were quick to ask.

“Sinbad? Surprisingly, I haven’t seen him flirt with anyone for past week. Not even when drunk. It seems he’s quite proud to want to win,” Ja’far admitted, leaving you rather shocked. But… what was a week if there were there were three more left? He has to get frustrated and starved enough eventually.

☆

A second week, you’ve heard the same thing from Ja’far. Something you clearly couldn’t believe, starting to question Ja’far’s credibility. You knew he was a good man, but in the end, he would always take Sinbad’s side out of loyalty to him.

“You’re playing with me right now,” you said annoyed.

“I assure you I’m not, miss Y/N. Even if Sinbad would ask me to lie to you, in this case I wouldn’t. It’d be beneficial for his kingdom, if he was to lose this challenge,” Ja’far rebutted with seriousness. “His mind is everywhere these days, and I don’t want Lord Sinbad to stray away from work. Though, it is a pleasant change, to see him keep some decency for once.”

When you left Ja’far’s office, it was Sinbad you happened to run into.

He smiled cockily at you, knowing you couldn’t believe he didn’t lose yet. That he didn’t flirt with any woman. Not giving him a chance to speak, knowing what he wanted to say, you scoffed. “It doesn’t mean anything. I have no guarantee, you wouldn’t go back to your old habit once you win and I give you a chance.”

Of course the challenge you’d given to him, didn’t apply to just that one month. If you were to date him, you wouldn’t be fine with him flirting with other then either. He’d have to stay this loyal, as you had some standards and boundaries. You didn’t want to be hurt because he was attracted to other women while being with you, or have to live in worry he might take it one step further one day.

But hearing your words, his smile died, replaced with solemnity. “You really have no faith in me, huh?”

“Don’t act like a victim, when you built this reputation for yourself,” you said sternly, and you turned around to leave.

You were right, of course. It was years of Sinbad and multiple countries working towards his infamous reputation. As he watched you go, despite your words biting right at his being, he felt even more determined to prove you wrong. He’ll show you, that he’s deadly serious about you, and soon, you’ll be in his arms, somewhere he’d never let you go from. There was no way in hell he’d ruin his only and last chance.

☆

When third week came, you were losing your mind. You couldn’t listen to Ja’far telling you that Sinbad is still not giving up for the third time. It was all suspicious, that someone who could have never controlled himself around women, was now suddenly a proper man, celibate and monogamous. Though his lack of harem always confused you. Any other king or prince had at least concubines. Maybe it was his need for equality within the world.

You weren’t believing Ja’far anymore, nor even your friend Yamuraiha who said she didn’t see anything. You were just paranoid at this point, living in uncertainty, so you had to take matters into your own hands. The plan you came up with, was to send some beautiful woman towards Sinbad, and spy from afar to see what he’ll do. You managed to find one of the female servants, one you knew was notoriously blushing near his presence, and send her to him, telling her Sinbad wanted a massage. The young woman, she was eager to go immediately.

You followed her, and hid behind the wall, as you watched her enter the lounging room, where Sinbad was resting on the pillows, reading some documents. Servant had even lowered the line of her tunic, making sure her cleavage is bigger, before she was kneeling in front of him. “My lord, I’m here to give you a massage,” she said, batting her pretty eyes at him.

Sinbad looked up at her, surprised as he didn’t remember anything about making such request. You saw some eagerness on his face for a second, looking at the woman with intention, but oddly it was quickly replaced with something like a disappointment. You theorized what was going inside his head, to lose interest so easily and even more, why he’d look so beaten up over the flirt… but nothing made sense to you.

“A massage? No, I’m alright. You can finish your work for today, go rest,” he said politely to the girl, and looked back at his document, as if disinterested. He clearly embarrassed the girl, as she quickly left.

You were proven wrong, and it not only frustrated you, but shocked on another level. You barely managed to hide before she’d see you, and kept standing there in shock.

A half a minute later, Sinbad blew up your cover. “Are you going to stand there like a pervert?” he teased, knowing you’re right there behind the entrance in the wall. You revealed yourself, looking at him on the floor in dissatisfaction. “Was she not to your type or something?”

“Hm? No, I’m just not interested. I have all I need right here,” he said playfully, lazily tilting his head with a charming smile. He obviously meant you, and you didn’t like the rare twist of your stomach his words caused. You were also getting worried, as you had only a week left, before Sinbad would win and you’d owe him a date.

A date. Just a date. While you said that you’ll give him a chance, even if he wins this deal, of course he can easily ruin his won chance. As a result, you still will have a chance to reject him fully. Just one flirt with another woman while you’re dating, and you can say he ruined his only chance and leave.

“Don’t get cocky yet, Sinbad,” you said, filled with determination to prove him wrong eventually, and turned around to leave. Just one step into the exit, you were forced back onto his hard chest, and felt his strong arms envelop you like a snake. He moved way too fast. He then leaned into your ear, to whisper, “Soon. Just you wait, my lovely. No need to test me with other women.”

He smiled even more when he saw you storm away after you managed to free yourself from his grip, all annoyed at his physical affection. If only you could know what he thought, when he saw that servant approach him. Yes, the woman was very pretty. But recently, nothing could have compared to you, and he started to think that you massaging him would be much better. Whether there was a more beautiful woman in the world or not, it was a whole lot of different stuff that made him want you. Until he no longer had as much fun flirting with other ladies, as he used to.

You were making this challenge way too easy for him.

☆

You lost. Sinbad won. After a month, there was no documented moments of Sinbad flirting with anyone other than you, even more than before to your dislike, teasing you about your upcoming loss. You played yourself by yourself, falling into the trap of your own game.

In fact, your challenge had caused a chaos in the palace. Servants were wondering why Sinbad wasn’t hitting on them anymore, others were theorizing he must have gained some bodily disfunction, and the rest was conspiring he must have fell in love…the last one, it wasn’t hard to connect to you, considering you were the one he went after much more than once, constantly on the chase. With that, some stupid gossip you’re getting married and Sindria will have a queen or consort too.

You couldn’t have it. You couldn’t even eat that morning when a month has passed. After waking up, Ja’far brought you to Sinbad’s office, as he wanted to talk to you. You expected another one of cocky smiles of his, but instead, were met with joy and excitement when entering his office.

Sinbad stood up immediately, approaching you to pull out a chair for you. “There you are. We have a lot to discuss, don’t we?” he asked positively and sat down back in his seat. And you felt embarrassed to admit you lost, though you were still holding to that chance he’ll lose when dating you. Despite, you felt as if you owed him that date, having some decorum to keep your words. You nodded.

“Great. You know, I’m really happy I won, fair and square,” he started, a proud smile on his face. “No need to worry about your rejections anymore.” Your eye twitched. “You don’t need to worry about anything either, I promise you I won’t ruin this chance I fought for.”

“How can you be so sure?” you asked, killing his excitement a bit. But he was too invested now that he won, that his determination didn’t waver.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” he asked, accusingly.

“You might have lasted a month. But can you stay away from other women, for possibly many more?” you said seriously. You had to admit, that he positively surprised you with his win, that he had enough respect for you to restrain himself so much, that perhaps there was some affection for you he had. But you just didn’t want to give up your heart on the platter, for him to crush it like he did with some women.

Your concern didn’t surprise Sinbad. A month away from other women, he was given a lot time to think about you, and try to understand why you’re behaving this way, with some help from Ja’far. You weren’t actually playing hard to get. You were hard to get, because you didn’t want to be played by him. You were smart to be wary, and you saw through his manipulations better than other women, so your reasons for your constant rejections was simply you trying to protect yourself.

But you needed to understand he was serious about you. All these women he flirted with, it was to fill the void he couldn’t fill entirely. Yet you, you were enough to satisfy his emptiness’ hunger, until he now no longer can see a woman without thinking of you or comparing her to you. No one compared, and he was scared no one ever will, that he’ll have to exhaust you with his presence, and himself, with his obsession, for the rest of your lives. He’d never admit this, but one time, he hooked up with a woman that looked a lot like you, just to imagine it was you. Between choosing an ability to continue being a womanizer and having you, he’d choose you.

“I know I will,” he said with all seriousness and stood up from his desk. “For many reasons, but one of them is—I know you wouldn’t hesitate to reject me once more, if I was to flirt or lay with a woman again.”

He could have imagined this in his head, imagining you telling it’s over. He couldn’t have that, especially when he knew you were, unluckily for him, too strong willed to give him second chances or stay upon such disrespect.

And you had to admit he had a point. He got you there. You knew that already, of course, you just didn’t know he’d acknowledge this fact. You thought he’d assume he can make you so obsessed with him, that you’d stay even after hurting you like this.

“Still…” you were running out of excuses, but you held onto the last one in your mind. It was hard to think with him now standing in front of your chair, being oddly vulnerable and honest with you. For once, you knew he wasn’t hiding anything. You gulped. “Yes?” he asked softly. Stupid man, making you feel flustered.

“While it’s true you can stop yourself from flirting with other women… I don’t want you to do this just because it’s convenient. I wanted you to do this, because you wanted to, because you wanted to respect me and wanted me only. I also don’t want you to throw me away once you get bored.

Sinbad suddenly grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest. You were surprised to hear his heart beating so fast, in something else than a lust. With you being a magician, a category of people taught to know a lot about human bodies, you were aware it was more like nervousness and affectionate arousal caused by being near someone you love. “Do you feel my heart beat for you?” You nodded, your hand trembling slightly. “I’ll admit the truth. At first, I was separating myself from my lust only to have you. But now, it only feels right. I don’t want anyone else, but you. I saw it as a game at first. Now I can’t sleep without you.”

His heart was so fast, you had hard time telling if he’s honest or not; albeit you felt as if he was telling the truth, when his eyes were slightly trembling upon new vulnerability, searching for your acceptance everywhere in yours.

Sinbad leaned close to your face, still holding your hand against his chest, his being nothing but determined. “And if you ever see me do otherwise, I’m giving you a permission to gouge my eye out, so I’ll never look at another woman with it again.” To make his point, he lifted your hand up, and placed it right across his left golden eye.

You gasped at his words, quickly snatching your hand back. He actually meant them, and the fact he’d go so far to promise you loyalty, you had no right to have any of your doubts left. He’d never go this far for anyone but you, yet at the same time, something about this scared you. Who would mutilate themselves, just to earn your love? A madman? Or just Sinbad?

“You’re an idiot, don’t you ever think of doing that, even if you end up lying to me!” you exclaimed with some panic, not wanting him to hurt himself over slight infidelity. Yeah, he bothered you in the past, but this would be a punishment too strict, and his people needed him healthy.

“I won’t,” he chuckled, feeling warm at your concern and satisfied by your slip up. You really weren’t taking his words as cautiously as you should this time, because he already knew you’d never take out his eyes, being safe from the start; so making this promise just to make you believe was easy. Yet he didn’t lie—the promise was real, and he really won’t look at other women again. He put your hand up again, right to his lips to kiss it, and this time, it didn’t feel repulsive like it used to be for you. “Since I won’t be breaking that promise.”

“You better be, though I wouldn’t let you do something so stupid,” you said, your voice regularly becoming less harsh with each proof of worth Sinbad had given you. He was winning you over, just like he wanted. Sinbad used to bring you more trouble than it was worth, but no man had ever, and you doubted any would ever come up with this, would go this far to have you. You sighed with feigned resignation. “With that, I owe you a chance, and I’m admitting my defeat. Satisfied?” you teased, and it felt so delightful to see you smile at him.

“Very,” he said with a grin.

When Sinbad pressed his lips onto yours, you first hesitated, used to the unpleasant feeling his advances sometimes brought you, even if he never had crossed any of the bigger boundaries. But him holding your face so softly, after he proved himself for you like some chivalrous knight, bared himself for you, made a pact with you—the moment felt so right, especially when you felt reassured enough to kiss him back.

Yet you couldn’t help a feeling of being swallowed by some part of Sinbad, still alarmed by his weird promise. It’s his eye he promised to give you, but what is it, that you will have to give him too?

With your eyes closed, you didn’t see his eyes darkening. To finally have you, was a win greater than ever. Sinbad wasn’t naive to believe all he had for you was affection. His sense of possessiveness, especially with how greedy he was; lust for you and need to consume you, it all fought against his affection and feelings for you. But those feelings—they were genuine, and once he had you, you’re never leaving his side again, and you will spend your remaining days making his heart tremble like this, over and over.

If he ever has to kill a man, anyone threatening your placement beside his side, he will do so with no hesitation. That darkness he had inside himself, it will always follow both of you. You had every right to be wary of him the entire time, and he almost felt pity for you. Almost, as you were his now.

You’re chatting with some friends in sports class when you get hit in the back of the head with a ball. It wasn’t a powerful throw. In fact, you barely felt it, but you know immediately who the ball came from when you turn around with a grim expression and see the wide-grinning blond Miya brother running towards you. “Sorry sweetheart. But ya were standing in my throwing lane.” he grins and picks up the ball. Oh, how you’d love to hit him in the face with the ball.

After school you just want to go home, the umbrella is already open as it is pouring like hell, when you feel two strong hands snatching the umbrella from your hands. “Hey sweetheart, I’m sure ya won’t have a problem if I borrow the umbrella, will ya?” Atsumu smirks at you again, already holding the umbrella in his hands so that he doesn’t get wet. You’re next to him, but half your body still gets wet as you try to take the umbrella away from him. “Hey, I’m a damn superb athlete. Can’t risk it to get sick,” he complains, putting his arm around your shoulders and pulling you towards him so that you don’t get completely wet. You walk home together for quite a while until Atsumu leads in the opposite direction to his own home. With your umbrella, of course. You can prepare yourself to arrive home soaked and chilled. Awesome.

Atsumu would never think of telling you that he has a crush on you. He assumes that you already know this and that you also have feelings for him, but are too shy to tell him.

When a guy invited you out for ice cream and you agreed, Atsumu complained to Osamu. Osamu first had to make it clear to him that you two are definitely not a couple and that you certainly don’t assume that he has feelings for you, because Atsumu is also just an asshole towards you.

Atsumu interrupts you sulking while you’re eating ice cream with the guy, completely ignores this dude and tells you that you shouldn’t eat ice cream with other guys because he likes you and it annoys him when you do things with other guys who aren’t him.

Suna is probably more of a secret, very laid-back admirer who takes things rather slowly.

He doesn’t behave any differently towards you in everyday life. That’s why it’s not obvious to outsiders that he has feelings for you. Even for you.

You’re in the same circle of friends. He’s not particularly jealous when you talk to other men. Possibly also because he knows exactly what he has to offer and is convinced of himself to a healthy degree.

But after a while, you notice that he’s more interested in you. He always likes your pictures on social media. Sometimes he comments on them with emojis. A fiery heart, or a smiley looking mischievously to the side, or even a smiley with heart eyes. Sometimes he also speaks to you directly about your pictures.

Rarely does he tease you.

“Saw your picture yesterday. Looked good,” he says calmly, his legs up against the wall as he lies on his back on the bed, his head hanging off the edge of it as he looks at his phone in his hands. You’re sitting on the floor with your back against his bed, still finishing up a few things for your group work for school, when you look sideways at him. “Thank you, that was with Tsumu. We played CoD,” you answer him. “A game date?” he replies with an almost arrogant look, still scanning you from his casual position as you shake your head and roll your eyes. Suna wouldn’t admit it, but deep down, he’s glad you denied his question.

Your free classes are for learning. But sometimes you use them to just relax, chat or do nothing. While one or two of you are studying in the school's common room, you approach Suna, who is sitting on a bench with Atsumu and Osamu. Both boys are looking at Suna’s phone, who’s playing a game, when you approach him and ask curiously what he’s doing. All three boys look at you before Suna grabs your hand and casually pulls you onto his lap while resting his head on your shoulder. His hands are around your waist while his phone is in his hands in front of you. “It’s a new mobile game that came out. It’s based on a webtoon,” he answers, still focused on his phone.

Suna would probably confess his feelings to you first. However, his confession is rather spontaneous.

For example, in a store when you buy some fruit sticks on the way back home and he also pays for your stick. Outside, you tell him that he didn’t have to do that and that you can pay for it yourself, but out of the blue, he just tells you that he did it because he likes you. “So what does it matter? I did it because I like you. So bad?”

Like Atsumu, Kuroo is someone who would tease you to get your attention. But not in that childish way with paper balls in your hair.

But at the same time, Kuroo would also help you and is very attentive.

In sports class, you are currently learning the basics of basketball - how to dribble, make a lay-up and so on - before your sports teacher tells you to practice on your own for the next 30 minutes. Kuroo grins at you and throws you the ball. “Do you think you can beat me in a one-on-one?” he smirks, knowing full well that you can’t. Nevertheless, you accept his challenge, start to play and quickly lose the ball. “You need to be less stiff. Try to move with the ball. And... try to keep the ball at about waist height when you dribble,” Kuroo says as he dribbles past you to make a smooth 3-pointer. 

You’re sitting on a bench in the shadows during your break. It’s a hot summer day and you just want to get somewhere where there’s air conditioning. “You should drink more. It’s pretty hot today and you’re not an oryx antelope that can go without water for long,” says Kuroo, who suddenly stands next to you at the bench and holds out a small bottle of water.

He always acts so tough around others, but he cares about the people who are important to him.

Would he tell you that he has feelings for you? Probably not, but at some point you would notice it yourself and ask him casually. 

If you asked him about it, he’d start off by rambling and beating around the bush, but then eventually admit to having feelings for you.

Ushijima would probably behave the same way towards you as he usually does. At least that’s what he thinks.

But you can actually see him looking in your direction from time to time and subconsciously observing you.

He also subconsciously thinks of you, asking Tendou, for example, whether he could imagine that you might also like certain things.

In class, you are all already in the classroom waiting for the teacher, while you talk to Semi about the new shop next to the school and Tendou tries to tell Ushijima about the latest manga he has read. Tendou quickly realizes that Ushijima isn’t paying any attention to him, but that his gaze is instead wandering toward you and Semi. “Wakatoshi? Were you even listening to me?” Ushijima barely visibly flinches, noticing that his thoughts were somewhere else when he looks over at Tendou again. “Can you lend me the magazine? They always have such interesting promotions on the last page,” he says, completely forgotten that his attention was still on you earlier. Unlike Tendou, who purses his lips and narrows his eyes.

“Uhhh, tell me, did you watch the new K-Drama series? The one with the lawyers and the forensic scientist? Mmmh, the lawyer’s secretary is sooo cute!” Tendou chants as he walks with Ushijima towards the gym for training. “No. Do you think Y/n would like the series? She likes watching these things, doesn’t she?” Ushijima asks dryly, not realizing that he’s only thinking about you again. “Mmm, I don’t know, maybe you two should watch the series,” Tendou replies, hoping to finally get a little more out of Ushijima, but he doesn’t respond to his statement anymore.

It would take so long for Ushijima to realize that he has feelings for you. Whether he finds out on his own, because he realizes that this rapid heartbeat is not because of his “suddenly worsening condition”, or because Tendou gives him a few clues to think about his feelings for you.

However, Ushijima would tell you as soon as he recognized it for himself. But not with a bouquet of flowers and a romantic dinner.

No, he would simply ask you at the next opportunity, if you were interested in him, because he is pretty sure that his interest in you goes beyond friendship. Not caring if you were alone or around friends during his confession.

Sawamura is a little gentleman. He would show his kind of affection through small things. The typical “act of kindness”.

Whether it’s opening the door, holding your school bag while you put on your jacket, or simply walking home together, even if it means a ten-minute diversions for him.

“Ah damn...” you curse quietly as you sit in your seat in the classroom and realise that you’ve forgotten your pencil case at home. “Dai-“ you’re turning around to ask Sawamura if he can lend you a pencil only to see him holding one out to you already, with a slight smile on his face. “Thank you.” You whisper quietly and turn back to the front.

You’re on your way home after a pretty exhausting day at school. All of you stayed a little longer in the school library today to study for your final exams. So it’s already dark when you go home and you’re upset about not bringing a jacket. “Here. Next time you should remember to pack something warm. You never know when it might rain and the temperature could drop,” Sawamura says calmly, holding out the jacket he wears for volleyball training. He himself is still wearing his school uniform jacket. After all, he doesn’t want to catch a cold. You gratefully accept the sports jacket and put it over your shoulders. Sawamura wouldn’t admit it, but he wouldn’t mind if you forgot your jacket next time as well, and wore his instead, because seeing you in his way too big jacket somehow makes his heart beat faster.

Sawamura would think long and hard about whether to confess his feelings to you, because he wouldn’t want to ruin the friendship between you. But in the end, he would be the one to confess his feelings to you first, in the hope that you would return them.

Unlike Ushijima, however, he would do it at a moment that suits him. For example, when the two of you are alone, on the way home together, in a quiet and laid-back environment and a relaxed atmosphere.

Hinata is so clumsy and although he tries to hide his feelings a little bit and keep them under control, even a blind man would understand how much he has a crush on you.

As soon as you enter the room, he gets all nervous and his vocabulary suddenly shrinks so much that it feels like it only consists of 30 words.

Even if Hinata appeared nervous towards you, he would never be someone who would tease you or have a cheeky remark on his lips. Nor would he ignore you. He would also be the cheerful and friendly whirlwind towards you, just a little awkward. He would try to support you, even if it was just carrying the bench in the gym together with you.

“H-hi,” Hinata stutters and turns away, glowing red in the face, as you smile at him and greet him too. “I’ve brought water for myself,” he says with a smile and holds out a water bottle to you. You give him an irritated look, but then giggle. “For you? Yes, that’s nice, but why are you giving it to me?” you ask and notice Hinata blushing again. He’s probably embarrassed right now. But you think it’s cute. “Eh, I mean for you. You. I’ve got my bottle here! See? It’s even full!” he says and reaches for the bottle in the side of his bag, wanting to shake it to show you that it’s full. But instead, he presses down on the bottle and splashes the water on his face. You giggle, but reach into your own gym bag and pull out a small towel to put on Hinata’s wet head so he can dry off. A gesture that is probably too much for his nerves right now.

Tired after his hard and long volleyball training with Kageyama, Hinata is just about to get on his bike and ride home when he sees you sitting at the bus stop in the dark. A little confused, he asks you what you are still doing here at this time of night when you tell him that you missed your bus."Then come on, I’ll drive you home!" he says with a cheerful smile and you don’t even have the chance to say no. Because you’re already sitting on the front of his handlebars while he pedals his bike and takes you home. He doesn’t seem to care that you live in the opposite direction to him and that it will take him even longer to get home, thanks to you. “Hold on tight, the Shouyou taxi is fast as lightning,” he says with a grin and drives you home.

With Hinata, it’s a fifty-fifty chance whether he confesses his feelings to you or not. Either he confesses them to you, but then because he babbles and the words just fall out of him with nervousness, or you tell him at some point that you have feelings for him.

If you are the one who confesses his feelings first, you can literally watch a fuse burn out in his head and how he is completely overwhelmed until he realizes what you have just told him.

Iwaizumi is similar to Sawamura. He would also shine through his act of kindness. Even if he would try to hide it coolly.

However, Iwaizumi also has a protective and slightly jealous side, especially when Oikawa gets the idea to flirt with you. He doesn’t like it when you feel uncomfortable or when other guys get too close to you.

“You shouldn’t carry such heavy things. You’ll damage your back,” Iwaizumi grumbles, before taking the bag with all the water bottles for the volleyball team from you and hanging it over his shoulder. “Hajime... I’m not five anymore... I can carry the bag by myself.” You answer him with a sigh. He’s a bit like your mum... far too caring. The only thing missing now is that he shouts after you in the morning to always bring a jacket so that you don’t freeze in the summer when it’s thirty degrees… “Never mind, I’ll carry the bag now...” he replies casually and turns his head away from you, but the tips of his reddish ears betray his coolness.

“Uuuhh my favorite manager is back” grins Oikawa, who runs up to you and hugs you as if you were best friends, but quickly lets go of you when he is hit in the back of the head with a ball. “Hey Shittykawa, leave her alone. We’re here to train, not to flirt with women. Especially not with our manager, you idiot!” Iwaizumi yells annoyed and approaches you both, while Oikawa tries to hide behind you. “Not my face, not my face!” Oikawa begs from behind you, leaning his head against your back. Iwaizumi tries to pull him away from you as the coach calls everyone together and demands their attention.

Iwaizumi would definitely be the first to tell you that he has feelings for you. But also alone, not in front of all your friends.

He would pull you aside, casually ask if you had a moment and just before he confessed his feelings to you. His tough determination would leave him and he would scratch the back of his neck until he got the words out almost sulkily, not looking you in the eye at first, before repeating his words with more determination, this time looking at you.

Oikawa would try to win your attention with every second.

Whether it’s in class because he offers to answer difficult questions and flaunts the answer to make himself look smart and strong in front of you, or whether it’s in training when he scores 5 points only with his serves.

Even your teacher doesn’t call you by name as often as Oikawa does when he wants your attention.

He also doesn’t like it when he sees you with other guys. He always pushes his way in between your conversations and tries to be close to you.

“Oh hey, Y/n-chan, what are you talking about right now?” he asks with feigned curiosity, his arms draped over your shoulders as he stares darkly into the eyes of the young guy in front of you. “Oh eh, we were talking about the new movie that airs tomorrow,” you reply, looking back over your shoulder at Oikawa, who suddenly looks at you with a smile, the dark expression completely gone. “A movie? Shall we go together?” He’s not really in the mood for the cinema, but if it means this guy leaves and Oikawa can spend more time with you, it’s a win-win.

Oikawa walks out of the changing room with a big grin on his face. Freshly showered and in everyday clothes after his team won the game against a neighboring team. “Did you see how many points I scored in that game? It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he asks, totally full of himself, as he puts his arm over your shoulders and pulls you closer to him. “Yes... you really scored a lot of points. But Hajime was also really-“, ”Iwa-chan could only score so many points because I’m the best setter. Right? You saw that, didn’t you? How I pass the ball into Iwa-chan’s hand?" he interrupts you, almost as if it annoys him that you were about to praise his best friend. With a sigh, you just chuckle. “Mhh yes, that’s right. You’re really great.” you answer him and watch as his eyes sparkle even brighter and he happily presses you against his chest. “I knew you only had eyes for me, little birdy.”

Since Oikawa assumes that every woman likes him anyway, he also expects you to like him. Would he tell you that he has feelings for you? Maybe.

The fact that you two are always doing so much together and that he’s like a clingy puppy somehow blurs the line between friendship and relationship.

Atsumu doesn’t get along with his classmates. He is too loud and too rash and lacks social cues, and Osamu is angry because Stupid ‘Tsumu cares too little: and he wants everyone to know Atsumu like he knows Atsumu.

They fight and they yell and they argue until Atsumu says, 

‘Samu, I don’t care about ‘em. Why do ya care so much? 

And Osamu throws him across the room. The argument ends there, he says sorry, and Osamu lies awake that night thinking about his brother. Atsumu is hotheaded. And an idiot. A loud snorer, too. But he turns on his side and curls into a ball because he knows it was sunny when Atsumu was born and all of a sudden he really wants to be his brother. 

Atsumu dyes his hair first: it’s a shitty box dye from the pharmacy down the street, and it looks terrible. It’s a little yellow and a little neon, and Osamu laughs until his sides hurt when Atsumu shows him. 

But Atsumu is proud, and he is confident, and he goes to school with a hundred watt smile and a group of girls trailing after him. 

Osamu goes to the pharmacy that night and buys a box of gray, cloudy dye. Atsumu helps him bleach his hair under their bathroom sink with the faulty tap and tells him he looks like the moon.

His Ma says that Atsu is hot and Samu is cold after the two have a particularly bad fight. Atsumu is gleeful and smug as he gloats that he was born to be hotter and warmer and better, and Osamu punches him. 

He remembers his Ma sitting on the porch, an arm around his shoulders as he pouts. 

“‘S not fair,” Osamu had said, his chin in his palm. “Why’d ya name Tsumu that?” 

His Ma had laughed, quietly, leaning her weight into his side. And she had held his cheeks between her palms and told him with a fire in her eyes that Osamu means To Rule. 

He meets you for the first time in February. 

You were standing in front of him, a little sheepish, with a box of chocolates in your extended palms. He remembers feeling something heavy in his chest. Because, yeah, Atsumu was definitely going to accept your confession. 

You had said, IReallyLikeYou, and Here’sSomeChocolates, and Please Accept Them. 

You were shorter than him, and your hair was done nicely, and you were blushing and nervous. And you were really fucking cute. But Osamu is used to coming second, so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is, Why? And then, Tsumu’s in tha next classroom ov’r. 

He doesn’t remember what happened next, only Atsumu’s laugh and the slap echoing through the halls. You leave with his cheeks stinging and hot. And Atsumu had teased him the next day, behind his mountain of chocolates and confessions, because Osamu’s face was still red twelve hours later. 

He sees you a lot the year after. 

You’re in the same class as him and ‘Tsumu, and you smile every time you see him. You sit two rows in front of him and you’re not very good at tying your uniform. Every lunch, Osamu watches you pull out the same gray bento with a wrapped onigiri on the side. He tells you one day that he really likes onigiri. And then, Osamu watches as every lunch, you pull out the same gray bento with two wrapped onigiris on the side. 

With you, it’s always Hi Osamu, first, and then, Hullo Atsumu. With you, it’s an onigiri dropped on his desk when the lunch bell rings. With you, Osamu thinks back to a conversation with his Ma on a porch. 

Osamu means To Rule.

The menu is this: Tuna mayo on Mondays and Thursdays, Ume on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Friday is plain. You don’t ever bring onigiri for his brother. 

He asks you, on a hot night in June, what your favorite type of weather is. You had your knees tucked to your chest, a sparkler in hand, and then told him cloudy. Cold. Foggy. Winter. Snow is nice, too. You say it all with no hesitation. 

Osamu kisses you for the first time that night. 

It’s New Years and you’re cooking Ozoni on the stove. The curtains are open, it’s snowing outside, and Osamu wakes to the smell of miso and the sound of carrots on a chopping board. He gets out of bed, padding to the kitchen with half-lidded eyes and a stifled yawn, and then he thinks his heart stops when he sees you. 

Because what Miya Osamu is not used to is this: coming first and having something unequivocally his. 

But you’re bent over the counter, fiddling with the oven as you read the instructions on the back of the packaged Yakimochi you bought the other day. And you’re wearing his shirt, it falls right below your thighs, your hair is still messy from using his chest as a pillow, and you look beautiful. 

“Mornin’ ‘Samu, come help me with this.” You say, looking back at him with a smile, pointing to the fresh pot of rice on the counter. “You’re in charge of onigiri.”

He hugs you instead, his arms around your stomach with your back to him. 

“But I like yer onigiri,” He says, his chin on your head. His eyes are watering and it must be from the steam of your boiling dashi. 

“‘Samu,” You complain, giggling as he presses kisses into the crown of your head. “I made enough for ya in high school.” 

It’s cold outside and snowing, and Osamu knows he’s going to make the onigiri. 

If the others within the dorm were not up earlier from the scolding Vil had given them, they were more than awake at the footsteps on the roof. Of course, it could have been passed off as the ghosts, but the creak of the rusty ladder gives you away to those inside the house. A quick check into your bedroom proves that it’s you out of the dorm and not one of the VDC members. Vil is largely unconcerned, you are just a manager after all not a performing member, that is until Trappola calls out from the bottom floor.

“Oi! What’s Malleus Draconia doing outside?” Now this peaks Vil and the others upstairs’ interest. Already pressed to the glass window in the seating room are Ace and Deuce, the others join shortly.

“What is this fuss about Draconia being outside?” VIl questions and the redhead shivers at the tone of voice he uses. Instead of answering anything, Ace points outside to where you stand animatedly talking to the prince of Briar Valley. Everyone just now coming to witness the scene outside the window reacts similarly, shock. All inside the house knew of Draconia’s reputation, but there you were chatting away with him like an old friend.

Despite the seemingly friendly conversation between you and the fae, the way Malleus looked fondly down at you did not escape the watchful eyes of the Rook, “Quelle beauté! The love between the Roi des Dragons and the Trickster is blooming right before our eyes!”

The three first-years mashed into the glass pane let out a simultaneous groan. “How come the Prefect didn’t tell us they got into a relationship!” “Bleh who even wants to be in a relationship?” And similar remarks left the boys’ mouth, but soon quieted when they watched as you started back towards the dorm. Their blabbing had cost all of the bystanders to lose track of Malleus who had seemingly left.

“Back to the room. Not a word of this to the Prefect. It is up to them to tell us about their relationship, not your incessant meddling.” Vil sternly ordered and the boys trudged up the creaking stairs before you came back.

Despite what Vil may have told Ace and Deuce about not meddling, you were their friend! If anyone would be allowed to meddle it would be your best friends, no? At least that’s what Ace had convinced himself of and later Deuce despite his reluctance.

They have a momentary break in the grueling practice and that’s when Ace decides to pry. You sit near the sweaty boys and offer up bottles of water, but it feels mostly like moral support. “So Prefect, you’ve been here for quite a while now, so’s there someone you're crushing on?” Ace asks, trying to be nonchalant.

“Is this some roundabout way for me to ask you if there’s someone you like?” You laugh at the red-head when he turns as red as his hair in embarrassment. “I take that as a yes?”

“No!” He waves his hands and you laugh at him again. “What’s wrong with your best friends wanting to know something like that?” Ace nudged Deuce, making him the accomplice to this encounter.

Before Deuce can protest, the two of them are yanked up by their collars. “If the two of you have energy to move your mouths, I’m sure you have the energy to continue practice.”

You laugh at Ace once again and shout a wish of good luck at him and the innocent Deuce.

After the catastrophic failure of the afternoon, Ace decides to take a different route: asking Grim. Once again he makes an assumption that if anyone would know about your relationship it would be your friend (though Ace is unsure if Grim counts as a friend or a pet).

The cat-like creature seems to be asleep at the moment, but Ace’s curiosity is strong enough to be the one killed by the cat. He pokes Grim and he yawns. “Whatcha want that you needed ta wake the Great Grim up?”

“You know the Prefect better than anyone right?” Ace asked tentatively.

Grim rolls over, trying to get comfortable once again before answering, “Just ask my henchman yourself, there’s no need to bother me.”

Ace rolls his eyes but presses on, “Well if it’s your henchman you should know if something in their personal life would affect them serving you, yeah?”

Grim rolls over to face Ace once again, “What could they be doin except being my henchman?”

“Oh well, I heard something about them dating Malleus Draconia, but if it hasn’t been affecting anything then it’s probably not worth talking about.” Ace shrugs, but he knows that Grim is interested in helping him now. At least he thought so, but Grim fails to respond and Ace is met with soft snores.

Ace groans, yet another plan of his: failed.

You crawl into bed, hopeful that maybe tonight you can rest. Grim follows suit and snuggles up next to you. He talks to you about the homework and other classes from the day and it’s not unusual. After a period of silence, “You won’t stop being my henchmen, right?”

You ruffle the fur on Grims head and laugh softly, “What gave you that idea? We’re two halves of a whole, literally.”

Grim exclaims and moves away from the hand that pets him, “I knew you would never leave such a great mage such as myself! Ace told me about some dragon and I didn’t want you to think that you were able to have a new master.” He returns to your side and curls up next to you to fall asleep and says nothing, leaving you confused but you brush it off.

Even though Vil had scolded Ace about staying up not long ago, he still dragged himself and Deuce down to the window where they watched you and Malleus meet. It’s been maybe a week since they last saw your rendezvous with the fae, but Ace is determined to make sure it was really.

Deuce yawns from behind him, “Maybe they aren’t in a relationship? It’s ok for them to just be friends…” Deuce’s head clanks against the window as he tries to go back to sleep.

“But the Prefect always wakes up happier when they’ve seen Draconia the night before! And don’t you remember the first night when Rook was here and he said somethin’ about the two being in love?!”

“It’s not that big of a deal is it? Just let the prefect tell us if or when they want. You’re so obsessed over this like you’re in love with the Prefect or something.” The sleepy boy mutters, but Ace picks up on it.

He laughs haughtily, “Like I would be in love with a pathetic person with no magic.” His tone quickly softens as he voices his real concerns, “I just worry about them ya know? Draconia is a scary dude and I wouldn’t want the Prefect to get hurt. Not because I care about them or anything, but because then I wouldn’t have a place to stay when Riddle kicks me out.”

Ace looks out the window for any signs of you but the field in front of the house is empty. He sighs and drags Deuce up the stairs with him.

Green fireflies fill your gaze and your hairs stand on edge at the powerful magic in the air. Despite the odd feeling you can’t help but smile when Tsunotaro appears.

With the VDC competition just around the corner, Vil had given you tickets but as you would be on the side stage you had no use for them. And the only person, well fae, you could think to give them to was Tsunotaro.

“Child of Man, it is always a delight to see you.” He cups your cheek gently.

Despite feeling a little flustered, you continue with what you wanted to say and fish the tickets out of your pocket, unintentionally breaking his hand off. “Vil gave me tickets for the VDC but I don’t have any use for them so I thought I would give them to you! I won’t be the one on stage but I’d still really appreciate it if you came to watch what I helped put together.” You flash a lopsided grin at the fae and hold out the ticket to him.

His eyes widened in shock. “You wish to invite me to this?” You nod earnestly and he laughs. “Perhaps it is because you are not of this world, but you are certainly naive, little one. Very well, but I will need to find an adequate way to pay you back.”

“Oh! That’s not necessary!” You’re about to ramble but Tsunotaro interrupts you with a kiss on the forehead.

“I will have to teach you the rules of the fae soon, Child of Man. But for now, let us go observe the gargoyle on the south grounds together.” He tucks the ticket into his pocket carefully and holds his hand out to you. You take it and he intertwines your fingers easily.

The night before the VDC it seems no one is able to sleep. Crowded around the window are all seven members of the squad, watching as you converse, yet again, with Malleus.

Watching the two of you has become somewhat of a pastime in the time the group has spent in Ramshackle.

But all of them are growing increasingly frustrated at the way both of you seem to skirt around your feelings. Of course, they have no way of knowing what is actually going on as they can’t hear you, but your body language is enough. Plus all the times you’ve woken up and come into practice with a silly lovesick smile is pretty telling.

“He’s standin’ so close to them! Can he just bend over and kiss ‘em?” “It’s absolutely nauseating seeing Draconia like this, doe-eyed for our Manager.” “Do you think the Prefect invited him to the competition tomorrow?”

The boys quiet at the mention of the competition. The whole reason for coming down to peek into your rendezvous with Malleus was to distract themselves from the impending nerves.

Vil is the one to break the anxiety ridden air and ushers all of them up to the room and in good timing too. The door creaks as you come back inside the dorm. Everyone in the dorm is plagued with emotions, good or bad, that make it seemingly impossible to fall asleep.

The day of the VDC comes and everything goes awry at Vil’s overblot. Though it is not your first overblot, being magic-less during it really takes a toll on you. You hate being useless during these times, there’s nothing you can do besides offer moral support, de-escalating the situation after, and a shoulder to cry on.

The adrenaline fades away and the boys collapse on the broken stage. Their heaving breaths are audible and their body language tells you of their exhaustion. You’re not exactly sure what to do, but the presence of powerful yet familiar magic washes over you.

You whip your head around to see the horned fae and you want to run up to him, but you’re just as tired as everyone else plus a little lightheaded from the poisonous air. Instead you simply call out to him, “Tsunotaro! What’re you doing here so early?”

It’s as if everyone sitting in the rubble has regained energy as they all repeat your pet name for the fae, but much louder. Though it’s not a shock that you know him, they’ve all witnessed your late night trysts, but for you to call him ‘Tsunotaro’ instead of something more respectable is… surprising.

Grim’s eyes light up with recognition at the nickname. “This is the ‘Tsunotaro’ ya were fawnin’ over? The nickname makes sense since he does have those horns growin’ out of his head but…” Grim trails off and you’re thankful he shut up. You didn’t need Tsunotaro to hear about your crush on him.

Thankfully he’s grabbed by Deuce so you don’t have to shut the cat up yourself. “Grim, you need to respect your elders,” Deuce scolds through a forced smile.

“It seems I’ve arrived a bit early. Though I’m unaware of how you all expect to perform on a ruined stage.” His tone is a bit teasing and it’s groundbreaking for all that have regarded Malleus as scary. And for those that have interacted with him, it’s weird to hear him talk so tenderly.

“Oh, well you see… there was kind of an overblot.” You smile at him, as if the overblot was not a traumatic experience you and the others barely survived.

Malleus’s eyes widen, “I did not sense an abnormality of magic, nor did anyone else for that matter. I’m pleased to see that you are all okay though.”

He looks around the stadium to assess the damage. “I suppose this counts as my payback for your invite, little one.” He pats your head gently and smiles down at you. The overwhelming sense of power washes over you and sparks seem to fly out of Malleus’s hand. In an instant the previously damaged stage is restored.

“Woah,” you breathe out softly. You look at him with stars in your eyes. You’re still unaccustomed to such flashy magic or really magic at all. The others behind you, while admiring Draconia’s handiwork, are completely astonished, and maybe a little frightened, by the enormous gap in skill.

“Please, such magic is child’s play for a mage of my caliber.” He responds to your praise. Coming from anyone else it would sound arrogant, but as one of the top mages in all of Twisted Wonderland, it was deserved. “I’ll return when the competition draws closer. I expect to be enthralled by your performance, after all it is due to the effort of Schoenheit you have gotten this far.”

The fae walks over to you where you sit and crouches down. He reaches his hand out towards your face but stops just short, hovering and hesitating. Malleus resigns and ends up dropping his hand back to his side all together. You don’t voice your disappointment, but the others do.

There’s a collective groan that’s quick to catch the attention of both you and Malleus. Ace is a myriad of stupid, hence he is the one to speak up out of all the members, “Great Sevens! Are ya shy? The Prefect clearly wants you to kiss them and everyone can tell you want that too so just do it! We watch the two of you meet up practically every night and every single night you chicken out.” Ace sighs, but quickly realizes. “Uh, I mean this in the most respectful way, Mr. Draconia, sir, highness?”

You’re embarrassed, was it really so easy to read your disappointment? But more importantly, “What do you mean by ‘we’? Are you telling me everyone that’s stayed in the dorm has watched me and Tsunotaro hangout?”

You look at them expectantly and see them nod. Jamil scoffs though, “You call that a hangout? It’s without a doubt a date.”

“I didn’t want to assume…” you trail off. You turn your head to look at anywhere but Malleus, embarrassed and a little flustered. It seems like the universe is intent on letting the prince know exactly how you feel.

The boy in question places a hand on your knee to turn your attention to him. “Were you not aware that I am courting you? I thought I made it fairly obvious.” He seems confused but his words have that teasing lilt that seems to become apparent when talking to you.

“Courting is like dating right?” You ask, cocking your head to the side. You hear another collective groan, but it seems Malleus is as clueless as you are.

“Is that what they call it these days?” The fae mirrors your expression. Perhaps this is why the two of you seem to be perfect for each other.

“Please talk about your relationship status later. We need the Prefect for rehearsals.” Vil tells his classmate impatiently. Though he is quite pleased with the events that have unfolded, nights spent at the window watching you two was not a waste after all.

Malleus kisses you swiftly, having made up his mind due to the words from the others. It takes all you have not to grab him by the lapels and keep his lips glued to your own. But having your first kiss with Malleus in front of your friends is enough to remind you to practice self-restraint.

He smiles at you softly, “I will see you later, darling.” He swipes at his uniform, ridding it of any debris and takes his leave after giving you a quick peck. You stare after Malleus longingly before Vil claps his hands.

"Listen here-" Malleus snarled, his unfocused eyes flashing a luminous emerald green. The radiance and illumination hypnotizes you for a while. A kaleidoscope of green and blue swirling around the gems that were his eyes.

"No matter how alluring you look-you can't tempt me. I-" Malleus lurched forward, nearly falling over. You ran to catch him but he pushed you away, stepping back blindly. He raised a finger at you. "I-I already have a lover!"

"Yes-That's…me?" You blinked, confused out of your mind.

Malleus only scoffs at you, shakily taking a few steps towards the entrance. It was clear that his head still shook and ached from the spell's blow. Sebek was quick to stop him, holding Malleus steady. "Young Master! Where are you going?!"

"To my-my treasure. My darling prefect." Malleus slurred, leaning against Sebek for support. He continued his rambling. "It's Thursday- We have a club meeting."

"Tsuno-I mean-Malleus, today is Tuesday." You piped up, pressing a hand against his back. With shaky legs, he pushed Sebek off and turned to glare at you.

"Silence. It is not."

Lilia laughs hysterically, doubling over and grabbing onto his knees. Oh, this was comedy gold for him. Shaking his head at his father, Silver strode up to Malleus and placed his hand on the young prince's shoulder.

"Malleus, you're still delirious. Why don't you sit down."

Both Silver and Sebek started to guide the woozy fae onto the couch. You followed suit, taking a pillow and placing it under his head. He turned to face you, his head spinning, a loopy snarl and glare on his face.

"I...I already told you- I have a lover." He groans into his hands, nausea washing over him like waves.

The fae begins frantically rummaging through his pocket. He yanks out a little locket in the form of a heart, holding it up for you to look at. He hands it to you with an arrogant smirk on his face.

"See?"

"O-Oh?"Gently taking it into your hands, you flipped the metal cover over to see a picture of you inside.

It was a photo from your very first anniversary. You were wearing a flower crown made with roses Malleus grew himself, it was one of the many gifts he gave you that day.

Though only your head and neck could be seen in the picture since his coat had almost completely engulfed you. It was a chilly day and Malleus graciously lent you his coat after you had forgotten to wear one.

You stared at the photo fondly, shutting it close before handing the necklace back to the fae.

"Your partner must be lovely." You whisper softly and Malleus sighs, lolling his head back to stare at the ceiling lovingly.

"Oh. They are much more than that."

Guilt.

Such a twisted, dreadful feeling which gnawed at his bones and mauled his conscience.

Malleus sits in his bedroom, glaring down at his feet. After locking himself up, the young prince refused to speak to anyone and only came out when it was time for class.

When he was in school, he avoided you like the plague; immediately teleporting away as soon as he caught sight of your figure.

It was safe to say that he wasn't taking the situation so lightly and after a week of his dramatics and Sebek's mourning, Lilia eventually had to step in.

"No!" Malleus growls, tugging his gargoyle themed blanket away from Lilia's grasp and burying his head underneath it.

Lilia sighs and yanks it away from him once more, glaring at Malleus with a stern look. "Do you plan on going about the entire month sulking like this?"

"Yes. Yes I do." Malleus huffs, a puff of fire floating into the air before dissolving into ash and smoke. He turns his back to his guardian and shuts his eyes tight. "Leave."

Silence falls over the room as the two stay still. Lilia squints his eyes, slowly rolling the sleeves to his shirt up. His hair grows, draping over his shoulders and cascading down his back. Malleus turns to glance at him, eyes ripping wide open as he recognises Lilia in his true form.

"I may be old but that doesn't mean I've grown brittle." Lilia rushes forward, tackling Malleus in a vice grip. The dragon writhes in his arms but Lilia's hold doesn't falter one bit. He carries the wriggling fae out the dorm, along a path Malleus was all too familiar with.

"Now, let's go to that darling treasure of yours."

Despite Malleus' protests, the bat fae dragged the poor withered dragon all the way to your dorm.

Once they arrived, Lilia made sure to switch back to the form that you were familiar with.

Unsure of what to do with himself, Malleus stood uncomfortably behind him as the bat fae rapidly knocked on the old rickety wooden door.

There you appeared, disheveled and drowsy with Grim hanging off your shoulder. For the first time in weeks, Malleus' eyes fell upon your figure, and his heart hammered heavily in his chest. Lilia pushed him towards you. "Go on Malleus, I believe you wished to tell them something."

You looked up at him in anticipation, a bright smile on your face. With a trembling sigh, Malleus strode forward.

"I-I'm sorry." He dropped to his knees and bowed deeply, his head striking the ground hard. His shoulders were locked and tensed in a straight line, posture stiff and rigid.

"Malleus!" You gasped, rushing forward. Despite your hasty attempts to urge him to stand, he remained anchored to the ground like stone.

The dragon fae grabbed onto your ankles, his forehead pressed against your feet. "My treasure, I a-am so sorry."

"Oh Malleus, love, you're being a bit too dramatic. It's okay." You shushed him, stooping down to take him into your arms.

Almost immediately, he melts into your embrace, curling up against your chest. His head lay against your shoulder, an arm draped over his eyes. Apologies flowing out of his mouth in an uncommon display of vulnerability.

Sighing, you cast a glance at Lilia who only shrugged as if to say 'Well, he's your problem now.'

"I'll make it up to you." He whispers, throat burning after his numerous confession of guilt. You smiled, burying your face into his hair. "I know, Tsunotarou, I know."

" Though I must say…" You trailed off, and Malleus peered up at you, his eyes wide with curiosity. "That locket you had of me was really lovely."

Malleus coughed, his cheeks turning slightly red. "I hadn't intended for you to ever see it."

"Khee hee~ Ah yes, the locket." Lilia sniggered, grinning impishly. "Prefect, did you know he had a box of true gold specifically custom made for it?"

"Lilia."

"He was so protective of it, always growling if someone dared to touch what was his."

"Lilia, please."

"There was even an enchanted silk pillow! He would always place the box atop it. I'm quite sure both the box and the pillow were embedded with a protection spell.

"I beg of you, stop."

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