it's all timing

alas, he enters the ballroom with his betrothed, a girl from a neighboring kingdom, and wouldn’t know the difference between her left and right foot even if you told her. too arrogant for her own good despite having nothing to offer the world, she thinks that all of the eyes will be trained on her, when in reality, no one spares more than a millisecond in glancing in her direction, her fiancee included.

what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, though. and it’s not like she knows much at all.

you are the prince’s royal advisor, his right hand, the brains behind the operation.

the person whose name he moans at night. that’s you, no one else.

he makes his rounds with the ditzy girl glued to his arm, and when he reaches you, you sense the surprise at your gown and how you look exactly like the seductress he dreams of. you know him enough to notice how his gaze shifts for a millisecond before plastering on a fake smile.

“advisor y/l/n.”

you curtsy to both of them, but your body is mainly angled towards him, the action allowing him to sneak a peek under your low cut gown. you know he glances at it; after all, you are his, as he is yours.

“good evening, your highnesses. lovely to see you as well.” you smooth out your dress. “i hope you enjoy yourselves at the ball.”

“yes, this is wonderful,” he murmurs. “i hope to catch you for a waltz.”

“whatever pleases you, sir, i am obliged to follow.”

it’s ironic, the titles you use for him in public, knowing that the roles absolutely reverse behind closed doors. you are too alluring for him not to submit to. it’s a tragedy that you were not born into royalty, but at this point, he thanks the heavens that he still gets to feel your skin against his.

he and the princess walk away from you, though he spares you a glance over his shoulder as you take a sip from your flute of champagne.

the music starts, and it’s a slightly uptempo, but still moderately timed waltz. one of the princes from a neighboring kingdom (though, in some fashion, a rival one as well) takes you for a spin around the ballroom, the attention of the crowd in between the two of you and the crowned prince himself.

“prince sugawara, you had never told me that you were such a good dancer. i would have danced with you much sooner had i known.” you smirked at him.

“all things come in their time,” he teases back. “besides, most of the kingdom is watching the both of us. tonight is the biggest ball of the year, after all.”

“yes,” you affirm. “perhaps you’re not so bad after all, your highness.” you smile at him. you continue to dance for two more songs, before tooru decides that, yes, he had enough of seeing you with him.

“may i have a dance?” tooru murmurs. he ignores his betrothed's glare at the both of you, obviously wanting his attention. “prince sugawara.”

“prince oikawa.” sugawara nods. “wonderful ball we have here this evening.”

“yes, advisor y/l/n planned most of it, it ought to be good.” tooru nods at sugawara. “but i’m confident that you know that.”

“yes,” sugawara smirks. “wonderful job, advisor.”

“they are a fine asset to our kingdom.” tooru affirms. “let us go, advisor?”

“yes, your highness.” you go to take his arm, but sugawara, never one to miss a chance to mess with the other prince, pulls you towards him, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

“i suspect some thanks is in order for that. alas, i simply wanted to see how our little prince fairs when i spend time with what is his.”

you pull him towards you, whispering in his ear that he is just as much yours as you are his, and that tooru knows that as well.

you curtsy towards sugawara, bidding him a good evening, before making your way back towards tooru, who has a scowl on his face.

“i don’t like to be kept waiting,” he says, taking you for a spin around the ballroom as the same waltz begins again.

“i know how impatient you are, my prince, but you need to wipe that scowl off of your face.” you squeeze his hand, hoping that your touch will make him ease up. it does, though just by a tad.

“are we still meeting tonight?”

“if you would like, my prince. my chambers are always open to you, after all.”

“about three quarters of the hour after the ball ends, i will be there.” he guides you for a spin, then moving you into a dip.

“careful there, your highness,” you smirk at him as he pulls you back upright. “you wouldn’t want anyone seeing more of me than you have, would you now, darling?”

“simply giving them a look at what they can’t have, love. fret not, for i am as much yours as you are mine, yes?”

“of course, your highness.”

never one to break a promise, tooru meets you at your quarters, and as your hand wraps around his neck while he fucks you, the red marks that will be left on his otherwise untainted skin will remind him that it is you he loves.

the next morning, after he slips away to retreat back to his betrothed, you kneel on the side of your bed to pray for forgiveness, and that whatever deity listens to your pleas knows not to judge you for your sins but for the contents of your heart.

what you also know, though, is that this won’t be the last time you’ll be praying for forgiveness. after all, it hasn’t stopped you from taking him again and again, has it?

as tooru’s wedding to the princess draws closer, though, you see him less and less. it doesn’t stop altogether, not until the day he is married. and after watching the prince get married to the princess, you let him pull you aside at the ball that follows.

“i’m afraid i cannot continue our situation, advisor.”

though this day was inevitable, you were still a bit taken aback and hurt. you shake it off, and smile at him.

“of course, sir. if you excuse me, i’d like to adjourn myself from the ball. i have some business with the neighboring kingdom.”

he raises an eyebrow at you. “what is it?”

“just some trade agreements to get in order with the prince. nothing out of the ordinary, i should be back by dawn tomorrow.”

oikawa clears his throat. “will you be seeing prince sugawara?”

“i may run into him, yes.” you fight to hide back a smirk. “we have some things to catch up on.” you curtsy to him. “if you excuse me, your bride is looking quite helpless over there. you must, uh, deal with that, i assume?”

he sighs as she struggles to walk in her big dress (one that she had, no doubt, chosen for herself) and runs to her aid with a plastic smile on his face. you duck out, sighing, but you also know he’ll come back. and you were never one to be wrong.

you could recognize his quick raps upon your wooden door any day, but you are alarmed, knowing that the guards must know that he is at your door. you open it for him, not having slept due to the fact that you had just gotten out of your bath.

he steps through the door without invitation. “good evening.”

you raise a brow at him. “very rude of you to intrude, sire. what is it?”

he turns to face you. “you know what i want.”

“tell me.” you don’t miss a beat, never one to let yourself be taken by surprise or seen vulnerable.

he takes a step closer to you. “you already know. i don’t want it to seem that i think less of you and have to say what is in between the lines.”

you smirk, looking at him in disdain. “spell it out for me, tooru. tell me how i am the only one that you want, that i’m the only one that can satisfy you, and that you belong to me.”

“no.”

“fine.” you motion towards the door with your eyes and a quirk of your head. “get out.”

“i am your king-”

“and what am i? who am i?”

the air is silent, poised with words unsaid and memories of the unholy things.

“you…” he takes another step closer to you. he caresses your cheek as you feel your back press against the cold stone wall of your palace chambers, but you both know who remains in control.

you’d never thought a king would kneel in front of you, especially in your own chambers, but he is on his knees, his head bowed like you were a deity sent to be in his presence, like he was unworthy to serve you, let alone be in your presence.

“you are the person who owns me, body, heart, mind and soul.” he murmurs to you. “and i am but your humble servant.”

“good. up, tooru.”

god, he was addicted to the way you said his name.

“be good for me.”

not once is he not touching your body that night, whether it be his hips, fingers, or tongue flush against your skin. it brings him to tears, the amount of pleasure he gets from just being around you. it astounds him, baffles him, even, how much power you have over him, but it’s where he feels the most alive.

when he is in your arms, fast asleep, you stare at the ceiling, asking the gods to judge your sins—you’re no longer afraid of what they could put against you.

you love him, after all.

his wife corners you the next day. you’re not surprised, considering her aggression and possessive nature. the kingdom may not see past her facade, but you see firsthand her monstrosity of a personality.

“what did you do with him?” she says, holding a dagger to your neck. you roll her eyes at her cheesy antics.

“you know what i did to him.” you smirk at her. “go ahead. put that knife in my neck. and never feel his touch ever again.”

her glare falters, her grip on her dagger loosening, and you take it out of her grasp.

“he will never need you like he needs me, never want you like he wants me, and never fuck you like he fucks me. you are disposable, and you will never be his.” you take her dagger with you as you walk to the other side of the castle to attend a meeting, but not before she attempts to tackle you. you merely take a step to the side as she faceplants on the floor. you look down at her desperation, wanting to make her plead.

“please…” she murmurs helplessly. “no more.”

you lean towards her on the ground.

a simple word of dissent falls from your lips as her tears begin to cascade.

“why?”

“because i can’t give away what’s mine, can i?”

bokuto: *telling a scary story* the hotel as a whole seems to be active. visitors and employees claim that doors lock themselves shut, footsteps can be heard, shadows follow you-

akaashi: shadows do tend to follow you though...that's sort of how they work

bokuto: （・―・）

tendou: you may not like this, i'm gonna try and agitate it. i'm just going to be as crude as possible.

semi: cool.

tendou:

tendou: fuck you goatman!

semi: holy shit, dude.

tendou: was that good?

iwaizumi: *talking about salem, town of witch trials* next week we're going to investigate a town that you guys have told us to investigate for a long time.

oikawa: we had a great time...hanging around in this town.

iwaizumi: oh my god.

suna: hey there demons, it's me...ya boi.

atsumu: oh shit, what up, i'm taking a selfie with some demons yo~ hell yeah, woah~ great. that'd be good. gonna snap that.

osamu:

osamu: ( ಠ_ಠ)

nishinoya: and if you want to deliver us a message, please whisper it faintly into one of our ears.

asahi: oh you, son of a...

nishinoya: or-or something. okay, or make asahi's tummy grumble. and here we go.

*makki and mattsun approaching haunted building*

makki: i think we should let them know that we're entering. y'know just give them a quick, hEY GhOuLs! tHe bOYs aRe hERE!

bokuto: every human is capable of comitting murder if you push them enough. i just don't know if this is enough of a push.

kuroo: okay...

bokuto: it's true!

kuroo: is that so?

bokuto: yeah...i bet you would murder me if i pushed you enough.

kuroo: yeah, probably.