â§âŚ cw. yandere content, dark content, possessive and obsessive behavior, gaslighting, manipulation, toxic/unhealthy relationship, referenced stalking, gender neutral reader, donât actually get a toxic boyfriend yâall(unless itâs Lelouch)
Thinking about Lelouch vi Britannia as your possessive Toxic Boyfriend with a need for control of you and your life.
Toxic Boyfriend Lelouch whose possessiveness is baked into his personality, so much so you donât even notice it at times. Heâll go through your belongings with the same casual air as he would the mail or paperwork. It doesnât even make him feel the least bit bad, in his mind itâs normal to want to keep up with your partnerâs inner life.
What Lelouch doesnât seem to understand is that privacy is also normal. No, instead Toxic Boyfriend Lelouch would feel like breaking out into hives at the thought of you keeping secrets from him. Even if itâs the most benign of secrets, he canât stand the idea of you lying or hiding things from him.
If you do end up lying to him, Toxic Boyfriend Lelouch would find out about it, no questions asked; there is no âifâ here, only âwhen.â And once he does find out, heâll go through great lengths to guilt you into feeling terrible about it, no matter how innocent the lie truly was.
Toxic Boyfriend Lelouch who knows exactly which buttons to press in order to make you as pliant as he needs you to be. In the end, even though he was the one who invaded your privacy, youâre still the one crying and feeling guilty. Luckily, Lelouch is always there to pick up the pieces. Heâll hold you securely in his arms and kiss your forehead, making you promise not to keep secrets from him again in exchange for his forgiveness.
Toxic Boyfriend Lelouch who will slowly begin to isolate you from other people. Coworkers, friends from school, even your own family, he plants the seeds of doubt in your mind on whether or not theyâre the kind of people who have your best interest in mind like Lelouch clearly does.
And if that doesnât work, Toxic Boyfriend Lelouch will damage your reputation. Not enough to ruin your life, but enough to get your stupid friends to leave you alone. Donât worry though, Lelouch will be there with open arms to comfort you. He reminds you that even if those âfriendsâ of yours left without a second thought, heâll never leave you.
Toxic Boyfriend Lelouch who convinces you to drop everything so you can move in with him. Why live alone and worry about doing things all by yourself when you could stay with him and let him take care of you? While youâre at it, why not just work from home, if not just quit your job all together. Lelouch makes enough already to support the both of you and live a comfortable life, heâll make sure you never want for anything.
Toxic Boyfriend Lelouch who knows deep down that he needs you leagues more than you will ever need him. Underneath his carefully collected facade, Lelouch is a mess for you. He thinks about you every waking moment of the day and is so pathetically desperate for your love that heâs willing to cut off his limbs if thatâs what it takes. When heâs not around you it almost feels like heâs going through withdrawal symptoms, itâs that bad.
You have no idea how much Toxic Boyfriend Lelouch stalked you before he actually approached you. Both online and in-person, he spent at least a full month gathering data on what your ideal man looks like. Youâll never realize it, but he took that information and absorbed it into his persona, literally changing himself just to have a better chance with you.
Toxic Boyfriend Lelouch who, despite it all, is still one of the most doting and caring boyfriends you could ever ask for. He knows everything about you, all the way down to the way you brush your teeth in the morning, so no doubt heâd provide you with the best care you could ask for; itâs basically love bombing but shhhhh.
And Toxic Boyfriend Lelouch who will one day wind up laying in bed with you, staring at the ring and he put on your finger and smiling. He never needed to kidnap you, you were his before you knew it. And now, heâll never let you leave.
If we are talking within an AU where Lelouch remains the Emperor then I can see him maintaining such an attitude around his darling. As a student Lelouch has to refrain his obsession when around you as he is working towards a vision and neither wishes for you to get involved nor for you to figure him out.
It's only once he is the Emperor that his advances become much more obvious and his intentions crystal clear. He may still offer you the illusion of choice but at this rate you no longer buy into it. You know that even if you reject him right now, he is going to have you arrested for supposed treason to then lock you away within his private quarters.
He has his Geass and could easily force you to obey and love him but he never makes use of that power. At least not to such an extreme. If you prove to be sneaky he may command you to never leave the city unless he is with you to prevent you from fleeing on your own without actively overwriting your own will.
Let me ramble about Lelouch a little, because he just deserves it.
Lelouch, who holds you in the palm of his hand but you also always manage to escape his grasp. Just when he thinks he has you, just when he thinks he can finally rest, you catch him off guard. Your mere existence foils his plans as it does not allow him to do what needs to be done. He sits in his chair, wearing the mask of Zero as he looks far away in the distance. To the untrained eye he looks as though he is scheming, coming up with future plans for the Black Knights to follow. But the way in which he gets startled gives him away, his quiet "Huh?" always making people like Tamaki chuckle and laugh in pure amusement.
"Well well, even a guy like Zero has a soft side!"
They have no idea just how utterly soft their brave leader really is.
Lelouch, who becomes absolute putty in your hands whenever you touch him, even if it was just accidental. He is used to the brutality of battle and blood, something so soft is... Ethereal. Unimaginable. It sets his heart ablaze, forcing him to speed up his plan just a little bit. He just wants you to be safe.
Lelouch, who can't read you at all and that drives him like crazy. He can't play you like the other pieces on his board, you're too precious for that. He is the King and you are the Queen on that board. He started to accidentally protect the Queen in actual chess matches instead of his King, much to the bewilderment of his opponents. In his mind, the King is worthless without the Queen. And in that same way, Lelouch would be nothing without you.
hi can you please write a lelouch vi Britannia x reader like the reader is his loyal knight!
Code Geass ~With his loyal Knight~
Manga/anime: Code Geass
Warnings: nothing
Lelouch vi Britannia
At first he was very cold and detached with you, as he thought it should be normal: you were his Knight, who had the task of protecting him and dying for him, so in his opinion you were just a pawn on the chessboard he was the king of, and it was better not to get attached to you
Nevertheless, over time he began to appreciate you a lot; at first it was just noticing some aspects of you he really liked, then a constant looking at you and thinking only of you, finally a very strong desire to hug and kiss you, and then he understood: he had madly fallen in love with you
Ever since he confessed, a confession that took him something like six months to make, he always wants you next to him, so that you two can spend time together and he's able to protect you; indeed, his companions are no strangers to coming into his office and finding you sitting either next to him with your head on his shoulder or on his lap with his arms wrapped around you and his chin leaned on your shoulder (which, by the way, is one of the very few signs of affection he gives you)
He would really like you to stop being his Knight and fight too, but I don't think he'll ever force you to resign from your role with the Geass, rather I don't think he would ever use his power on you, both because he fears you'll find it out and might hate him due to it and because he's afraid of the possible consequences of his action if he loses control over it
Even if he's ready to sacrifice the lives of his companions and soldiers, as well as his own, it's not the same with you: you've become too precious to him, and he would do anything to save you and keep you safe, since over time you've gone from a simple pawn to the queen of his chessboard, and he, as king, has the duty to protect you, as there's no king without his queen
Synopsis : A stormy night leaves you too restless to sleep, the thunder shaking your nerves. Seeking comfort, you slip beneath Suzakuâs hand, finding shelter in his warmth and presence. When he wakes to your trembling, Suzaku does what heâs always longed to doâprotect, reassure, and hold you safe against him. He lets out soft hums that quiet both the storm outside and the fear within you. For the first time in a long while, Suzaku feels a fragile peaceârealizing that while he could not save everyone, he can protect the one who trusts him most.
CWs / Notes : Giant/tiny dynamics (size-difference, gentle handling). Suzaku is his normal-sized self, while the reader is small (around 5 inches tall). The readerâs physical characteristics, gender, and name are ambiguous. Mentions of fear/anxiety due to thunder. Light references to Suzakuâs past guilt/loss (Euphy, his father). Reader is portrayed as seeking safety and comfort; Suzaku responds with gentle reassurance and care.
WC : 5.5k , hope you enjoy reading! âĽď¸
The storm outside had been raging for what felt like forever, the kind of storm that didnât just pass by, but lingered and pressed itself into every corner of the night. Each crack of thunder wasnât simply a soundâit was a force that seemed to tear straight through the walls of the room, rattling the air and making the world feel fragile. Every vibration crept into your body until you could feel the echoes deep in your chest, as if the storm itself had set up camp inside your ribcage. Rain hammered relentlessly against the window in heavy, unbroken sheets, an endless rhythm that refused to let you forget its presence. It was loud, constant, and unyielding, so much so that each drop seemed to echo in your bones like a reminder that rest would not come easily. You lay curled tightly on the wide pillow across from Suzakuâs, small and tense against the expanse of fabric, your tiny frame stiff from hours of tryingâand failingâto will your eyelids shut. No matter how hard you tried, the thunder always shook them open again.
You let your gaze drift toward him in the dimness, drawn there despite yourself. Suzaku was asleepâor at least, he looked it. His chest rose and fell in a steady, even rhythm, calm in a way that only made your own restlessness feel sharper. The quiet of his breathing seemed impossibly distant from the violence outside the windows. Loose strands of chestnut-brown hair fell across his face, soft against his skin even as they caught shadows in the faint glow of the room. His hand rested close by on your pillow, turned palm-down, fingers sprawled out carelessly in his sleep. You found your eyes lingering there, caught by the sheer size of it. Compared to you, the hand was an entire worldâbroad, strong, and steady, wide enough that it seemed to offer protection simply by existing. It was a silent, unconscious promise of shelter, one he didnât even need to voice.
When the next crash of thunder came, sharper and closer than before, your heart leapt into your throat. The sound was too muchâtoo sudden, too violent. Without pausing to think, without giving yourself the chance to reason or resist, you moved. You crawled across the pillow with quick, clumsy motions, every step heavy with exhaustion and trembling nerves. The fabric shifted beneath your weight, each shuffle feeling slower than it should have been. But determination carried you forward until you reached himâreached the enormous hand resting within your grasp. With a small, desperate breath, you pressed yourself toward it, nudging your way beneath his palm. The motion was instinctive, guided more by need than thought, as if your body knew before your mind could catch up.
The heat of him enveloped you immediately, a steady heat that radiated from his skin and wrapped around you with surprising gentleness. His hand was heavy above you, not crushing but grounding, its sheer presence forming a shield between you and the stormâs fury. The sound of the rain dulled, muted under the curve of his palm, and the thunder outside lost its sharp edge as if his touch softened it. You pressed yourself closer, curling into the comfort his body offered, letting his size and warmth drown out the world beyond the room. The storm still raged, but hereâbeneath himâyou found a fragile pocket of quiet, a place where your fear could finally begin to loosen its grip.
The hand began to shift.
Outside, the storm raged on, unrelenting in its fury. Each peal of thunder rolled heavy and long across the sky, shaking the windows in their frames until they rattled like the boom of cannon fire. Lightning painted the room in fleeting, silvery flashes, each burst briefly revealing the tension in your tiny body before plunging everything back into shadow. Suzaku stirred faintly in his sleep, brow furrowing, but it wasnât the storm itself that disturbed him. It wasnât the thunder, nor the way the rain lashed endlessly against the glass. What pulled him back from the depths of slumber was something smallerâquieter. The faintest movement beneath his palm, so subtle that most would have overlooked it. But Suzakuâs senses, honed by years of discipline and soldierâs instinct, picked up on it instantly. This wasnât the restless shifting of an enemy or the unpredictable change in the environment heâd been trained to detect. This was different. Softer. Familiar.
His eyes opened slowly, lids heavy and sluggish with sleep, and a low, muffled sound escaped his throatâa wordless murmur as consciousness crept back into him. His gaze fell to where his hand rested, and the realization hit gently, like a tide washing against the shore: his palm was covering you, settled there as though his body had acted on its own, sheltering you even in unconsciousness. His fingers curled inward, reshaping themselves into a loose grip around your frame. The motion was unconscious but deliberate in its tenderness, protective in a way that left no doubt about his intent. His thumb shifted ever so slightly, brushing over your cheek with a touch so feather-light it seemed almost hesitant, as though even the smallest pressure could hurt you. It was painfully careful, the kind of care born not of fragility in you but of the intensity of his feelings, of his need not to let his strength become something dangerous in your presence. And under his hand, he felt itâthe faint tremors in your tiny body, the fragile shivering that told him everything words had not yet said.
A low, questioning sound vibrated from his chest, carrying the drowsy weight of one who had only just risen from the depths of sleep. ââŚDearest?â The syllables slipped from his lips in a voice still thick and rough with rest, but already softened by concern. He shifted slightly, not fully lifting his hand but adjusting it, as though afraid of leaving you uncovered in the stormâs relentless noise. His gaze lingered on you with quiet intensity, eyes still hazy yet sharpened by worry. âWhatâs wrong?â The words came softer now, coaxing and careful, threaded with kindness that contrasted the violence of the storm outside. Beneath his calm tone, however, was a pang in his chest, a tightness he couldnât ignore. He hated hearing fear in your silence. He hated that you had needed to seek protection under his hand at all.
Your lips parted, hesitant and unsure, as though ashamed to voice something so faint and vulnerable. The words came out in little more than a whisper, your voice weak, almost trembling with embarrassment. ââŚThe storm. Itâs scary.â The confession slipped into the air like a secret you werenât certain you were allowed to share, fragile but honest. The moment it left you, the silence that followed seemed louder than the thunder itself.
The words were so small, scarcely more than a whisper, so fragile that they nearly vanished beneath the stormâs unrelenting roar. Suzaku almost missed themâalmost let them slip away into the thunder and rainâbut not quite. They pierced through the noise with startling clarity, cutting straight to the most vulnerable part of him. That trembling little admission struck him harder than any blow he had ever taken in battle, harder than the accusations and judgments he had carried for years. His heart squeezed, painfully tight, at the sound of itâat the tremor in your voice that spoke of fear and of trust all at once. He drew in a quiet, uneven breath, and an impulsive sound rose in his gullet, soft and low, almost a coo. The noise was one he might not have made had he been fully awake, but in this hazy space between sleep and consciousness, his feelings surfaced too plainly. His thumb brushed gently over your cheek again, the touch unhurried and careful, as though he could soothe away the storm itself by tracing the smallest comforts into your skin.
You trust me enough to admit that, Suzaku thought, his heart twisting. Even like this⌠even when Iâve failed so many before⌠you still look to me for safety.
His thumb moved again, gliding in another feather-light stroke across your cheek, lingering just long enough to chase away the tremble in your voice. His body shifted faintly, his hand curling in a little tighter around you as if to form a shield against everything outside the roomâs four walls. âHey,â he whispered, his tone lowered to a warmth so intimate it barely felt like a voice at all, more like a promise breathed into the air. âYou donât have to be afraid. Iâll keep you safe⌠always.â Each word fell with quiet conviction, gentle but unwavering, as if the weight of his entire being had settled into the simple vow. The sincerity in his tone could not be mistakenâit wasnât just a soothing comfort meant to hush a frightened soul. It was truth.
And he meant it. Every syllable.
Suzaku Kururugi had spent so much of his life weighed down by guilt, by impossible ideals, by a wish for redemption that felt like it would never come. But with youâfragile and trusting, curling against his skinâthings felt different. You didnât ask him to atone for the past. You didnât demand grand ideals or noble sacrifice. All you asked for was safety in the middle of a storm. And that was something he could give you.
Gently, he lifted his hand, carrying you with an ease that felt like flying. His heart softened as he saw you nestled there against his palm, so small and so brave, despite your trembling. Slowly, carefully, he brought you up to his neck and pressed your body gently against the side of his throat, cradling you against the warmth of his skin. The steady beat of his pulse was strong beneath you. The pulse felt like a promise. A reminder: as long as his heart beat, you were safe.
Then came the hums. At first, they were barely audible, just a faint vibration low in his chest, but as they continued, they deepened into something steady, soft, and resonant. Each sound rolled through him like a wave and spilled gently into you. They werenât songs so much as wordless notesâlow and warmâthey seemed to vibrate through his ribs, through his hand, into the very air. Each note settled snug inside you, not merely a sound but a presence, like a lullaby sinking into your core. The storm outside became a backdrop, its violence muted by the soft vibrations Suzaku sent out into the small world you shared beneath his palm.
He felt you react almost instantly, your tension loosening as if each note unwound a single thread of fear. Your breathing began to even out, shaky inhales smoothing into calmer exhales. The sharp edges of the stormâthe thunder, the rain, the windows rattlingâdulled to nothing, fading into a distant blur. The only thing left was the sound and scent of him, the gentle hums that pulsed through his body and into yours, and the protective weight of his hand. Suzaku felt the shift in you as clearly as the air changing before a storm, and it filled him with a quiet ache, a fragile sense of relief. He closed his eyes, letting the sound deepen, every note wrapped around you like armor, like a blanket built from nothing but his voice and his resolve.
And beneath the soothing rhythm of his humming, thoughts rose in Suzaku like tides he couldnât hold back. I couldnât save my father. The words flickered across his mind, sharp and heavy, memories of a choice that had marked him forever. I couldnât save Euphy. The thought burned deeper, a wound that still hadnât healed, no matter how many nights he tried to bury it. Iâve failed so many times. Each silent confession bled into the next, a litany of mistakes and regrets that formed the backbone of his life. But as his thumb brushed once more over your tiny form and your breathing steadied against his palm, a new thought rose, clear and unwavering, cutting through the noise of the storm and the guilt alike. But I can save you.
The thought settled into him with a kind of quiet peace he rarely allowed himself to feel. It was not the loud, fierce peace that comes with victory, nor the fleeting relief of having achieved some impossible goal. It was softer than that, deeperâa calm that came from knowing, in that exact moment, he was exactly where he was meant to be. His hand shifted almost imperceptibly, careful as though even a slight movement might disturb the fragile moment, curling gently so that you were sheltered closer still against the heat of him. The motion was instinctive, born of his need to protect, to draw you even nearer. Beneath him, you seemed to answer without words, your tiny form shifting until your body pressed closer, your face brushing into the curve of his skin. He could feel the tremor of your breath ease, the tension in your small frame fading like the last edge of a storm breaking apart.
The storm outside still raged with relentless force, the thunder rolling low and long, rain hammering against the glass as though trying to break through to the quiet inside. But it seemed distant here, softened into something like a background hum against the world you had built together in that moment. You burrowed closer still, pressing your face deeper into his neck, as though seeking safety not just from the storm outside but from everything that frightened you. Each small movement of yours was mirrored by himâhis body tilting, his thumb moved again, brushing with deliberate gentleness across your skin, a touch feather-light and deliberateâmeant to soothe. His hums shifted too, softening and slowing further until they became a faint vibration, barely more than a breath, yet deep enough to resonate inside your bones. It was more than soundâit was presence. He could feel you relax beneath him, your breathing evening out, syncing in rhythm with his own steady heartbeat.
You went slack against him, surrendering to sleep with a quietness that seemed to still the space between you. Your breathing slowed, becoming deeper and softer, falling into the gentle cadence of rest. Suzaku let out a sigh he had not realized heâd been holding, as though releasing something he hadnât known weighed him down. A small, almost imperceptible smile curved his lipsâan expression not of arrogance or pride, but of something tender and unvoiced. You were safe. You trusted him to keep you that way. And in that moment, Suzaku knew with absolute certainty that he would guard that trust at any cost, even when every muscle in his body screamed exhaustion.
He tilted his head just enough to breathe you inâthe scent of your hair soft against his skin, your breath mingling with his own, the faint rise and fall of your chest pressed to his throat. Each inhale was a promise, unspoken yet deep in his tone, a vow without need for words: Nothing will ever harm you while I am here. The vibration of his hums shifted slightly, becoming softer still, a slow, steady thread of sound, carrying weight and warmth through the air. His thumb rested over your cheek, brushing in slow, circular strokesâdeliberate, tender, as though he could erase every trace of your fear with the motion alone.
Outside, the storm roared on, relentless and fierce, but inside, all was quiet. The world was reduced to your breathing, the faint hums from Suzakuâs chest, and the steady, grounding warmth of his hand cradling you. For the first time in far too long, Suzaku let himself still completely in that momentâholding onto that quiet peace, letting it fill him until even the storm could not touch it.
âSleep well,â he whispered, the words soft and low, carried on a breath that barely disturbed the air between you. His voice was almost swallowed by the storm outside, the steady drum of rain and the occasional rumble of thunder pressing against the walls of the room. But even if the words were quiet enough to be lost to the storm, they still landed gently against you, as though he had folded them into a promise. His tone was warm, intimate, carrying something unsaidâsomething that had taken root over the hours youâd shared in silence and in fear.
Then, quieter still, a confession so fragile it was meant only for the quiet of the night, spoken when you were already deep in sleep, your breathing slow and even beneath his palm. It was a truth he kept locked away from the world, something he would never voice in the light of day, but in the stillness of this storm-broken night, he allowed it to slip free. âI need you more than youâll ever know.â The words were almost a sigh, threaded with something deeper than desireâsomething like relief, longing, and an ache that he had carried far too long without admitting it, even to himself. They were carried in the hush between thunderclaps, swallowed by the steady rhythm of your breathing, and yet they hung in the air like a pledge.
He lingered there in silence for a moment, letting the weight of what he had said settle between them, though you slept on, unaware. His thumb brushed once more across your cheek, slow and careful, a final gesture of quiet devotion. The warmth of his skin pressed gently against yours, the steady hum of his chest beneath his voice becoming the last thing you felt before drifting fully into rest. Suzaku closed his eyes, his own breath evening out, letting himself sink deeper into the moment. His hum stayed steady, low and soothing, carrying the promise of safety and the weight of the truth he could not speak aloud in the daylight.
For as long as his body would allow, he kept that quiet hum aliveâsoft, steady, a rhythm that matched the beating of his own heart. Until finally, exhaustion claimed him, and he let himself follow your example, surrendering to the deep sleep that came after the storm had passed. And there, in the hush between the thunder and the rain, Suzaku Kururugi sleptâholding you safe against his chest, keeping the promise of his words alive with the steady beat of his heart.
The storm had passed in the night, leaving the world outside washed clean and still. The air felt different nowâlighter, almost fragile, as if the nightâs fury had been swept away and replaced by something quieter. The steady pounding of rain had been replaced by the gentle, distant sigh of a breeze stirring leaves, carrying with it the scent of fresh earth and rain-warmed air. Sunlight broke through the curtains in muted streaks, pale gold spilling across the room. The light was soft and hesitant, filtering in slowly as though not wanting to disturb the fragile hush. It pooled in quiet corners, warming the air with the faint promise of a new day. Suzaku stirred with it, his body shifting gently as consciousness pulled him from dreams that, for once, had been untroubledâdreams without storms, without regret, without the weight of impossible choices.
The first thing he noticed wasnât the pale light, nor the unfamiliar calm that had settled around himâit was you. Even before his eyes fully opened, he felt the weight of you, small and warm, pressed against him. His senses sharpened, pulling him from the lingering tendrils of sleep with sudden clarity. There you wereâstill curled at his neck, your tiny body tucked against the steady warmth of his skin. His own hand had not moved in the night; it remained cupped there protectively, fingers curved just so, thumb resting lightly over you as though to shield you even without conscious thought. The faint rise and fall of your breathing was soft beneath him, steady and slow, a quiet rhythm that seemed to anchor him more than any dream ever could.
Suzaku froze, the moment stretching between him like the pause before a tide rolls in. His eyes blinked open fully, widening as the memory of the night before came rushing backâthe thunder cracking like a warning, your trembling voice soft in the dark, your small weight pressing against him for safety, the way you had melted against his neck when he hummed to ease your fear. Every detail came to him in sharp clarity, sharper even than the pale light brushing his eyelids now. His chest tightened, a strange mixture of warmth and unease settling deep in him. But now, in the quiet of morning, there was no storm. No thunder to make you cling to him. No sudden fright to drive you into his arms. And yet⌠you were still here.
Suzakuâs heart stuttered. His first instinct was to carefully, almost mechanically, move you to a safer spot on the pillowâto pull away and pretend nothing had happened. His mind rehearsed the motion before he even moved, a knightâs reflex: act gently, avoid disturbance, maintain control. But his hand wouldnât obey. It stayed where it was, rooted to you as though by some unspoken command. Instead of pulling away, his fingers curled slightly, tightening in the most imperceptible wayâthe barest of squeezes. It was as though his own body rebelled against the idea of letting go, as though some deeper part of him refused to release what it had found.
It wasnât just you who needed this, he realized suddenly, heat rushing to his face, burning behind his ears. The thought came quietly at first, then surged through him like an undeniable truth: Itâs me. I needed this too. His chest constricted with the admission, and he could feel the truth of it in every breath. Not just the need to protect, but the need to be protected, to have somethingâsomeoneâbe with him when the world felt too demanding, too sharp. His throat worked as he swallowed, and he prayed the motion hadnât disturbed you. The motion carried weight, heavy and silent, as though swallowing those words sealed them away forever.
The warmth of your little form pressed against the curve of his neck was unlike anything he had expected. It soothed something deeper inside him. It dulled the ache of loneliness he had carried for so longâthe endless weight of failure, the burden of guilt, the quiet regret of choices he could never undo. He had built walls around himself, carried armor forged in years of battle, guilt, and self-recrimination. And yet here, beneath his hand, there was no armor. Only you. And he realized, with an almost painful clarity, that he had never understood how badly he yearned for such closeness until he had itâuntil you gave it freely. The simplicity of it made his chest tighten further, and his fingers pressed a little closer.
You shifted faintly in your sleep, and that movement made his breath hitch. Your cheek brushed softly against the curve of his Adamâs apple, a contact so delicate it was almost a whisper. Suzaku nearly jumped, his face flushing as heat rose in slow waves through him. The warmth of you there made something in him tightenâprotectiveness, wonder, something he could not name. A faint sound slipped from your lipsâquiet, content, peaceful. It was not a word, but it was enough. Enough to make his breath catch, enough to root him there in the moment. You trusted him enough to sleep like this, without fear, without hesitation. You trusted him with everything.
That thought lodged itself deep in his chest, settling there like an unuttered oath. Suzaku Kururugi, who had carried failure like a wound too heavy to bear, realized that trust was something he could not take lightly. Not now, not ever.
He ducked his head slightly, strands of messy chestnut hair fell across his face. The morning light, pale and diffused through the curtains, caught in those loose strands, painting them gold in places. He let out a shaky laugh under his breath, quiet enough that it was meant only for himselfâa sound soft and strangely vulnerable. âI must look ridiculous right now,â he murmured, the words low and almost lost in the stillness of the room. A soldier, a knight, Britanniaâs White Reaperâthe man who carried himself with pride and a sense of duty so absoluteâblushing quietly because someone so small, so delicate, so utterly precious had chosen to rest against him as though he were their safest place. That thought alone seemed to settle deep in his chest, warm and heavy.
Carefully, with the slow deliberateness of someone afraid to break a fragile moment, he shifted his thumb. It stroked along your side in a feather-light motion so careful he risked disturbing even the breath of sleep. His eyes softened as he looked at you, tracing your curled form without thinking. You looked so peaceful thereâsmall and trusting, so utterly unaware of the way you had rooted yourself against him in quiet surrender. His voice came out in a murmur, as though afraid to break the hush of the room. âYou have no idea what you do to me,â he said, words fragile yet full of weight. âHow much IâŚâ His voice faltered, his breath hitching softly. He stopped himself, biting back the word before it could escape. Love. Too heavy, too exposed to speak aloudânot like this, not when you were still sleeping, vulnerable in his arms. But even if he could not say it, his heart knew it with absolute certainty. Every beat against your body confessed it in a language his lips would not dare voice.
Suzaku let out a slow sigh, the sound quiet but deep, carrying with it something like surrender. He tilted his head back against the pillow, his gaze lingering on you as if memorizing the moment. Your form pressed against him was something he didnât want to let go ofânot yet. His body ached with the quiet weight of the truth he kept to himself. He would let you stay. He wanted you to stay. Just for a little while longer. The thought settled over him like a promise he was not yet ready to speak, and the room held itself in that hush, letting the weight of silent words and the softness of your trust stretch quietly between you.
And so, in the washed-out glow of morning, Suzaku Kururugiâsoldier, knight, sinner, and protectorâallowed himself one selfish thing. One small, quiet indulgence he rarely gave himself: to hold you close. Not because you needed it this time, not because the storm had driven you to him, but because he did. Because the weight of the night had left him raw and certain in a way he could not deny. The air still carried faint traces of rain, cool and sweet, but the sunlight was already creeping through the curtains, spilling across the room in slow, pale gold. The light softened the world, turning it into something quiet and intimate, as though it too had been waiting for this moment to arrive.
By the time you stirred, the morning had settled into a gentle hush, the storm replaced by a stillness that felt like both a promise and a relief. The sunlight had warmed the room, filling it with a golden quiet that pressed gently against your skin. At first, your movements were slow, uncertain, as if you were still half lost in sleep. You werenât even sure where you wereâyour small body wrapped in warmth, cradled against something solid that rose and fell in steady rhythm. It was a warmth that spoke without words, quiet and unwavering, and it clung to you as sleep loosened its hold. Then, your eyes blinked open, and in the soft light it clicked: Suzaku.
You were still nestled against his nape, tucked close enough that your cheek rested against the curve of his skin. His hand remained cupped protectively around you, fingers curved gently as though he feared any movement might disturb you. Beneath your small body, the slow, steady beat of his pulse pressed gently against your cheekâa deep, rhythmic reassurance that resonated in you even in waking. It was quiet enough that you almost didnât notice it, and yet somehow it was the first thing your mind anchored to in the half-light of morning.
Suzakuâs entire body tensed the moment you shifted. He had been awake long enough to anticipate this, but that anticipation did nothing to make it easier. His ears burned, the heat creeping across his face as his mind scrambled for something to say, something to fill the sudden quiet. Instead, he tilted his head away slightly, as though that might hide the faint pink dusting on his cheeksâa blush born of surprise, of quiet vulnerability, and perhaps something deeper he wasnât yet ready to name. The silence between you stretched in the warm light, carrying with it a weight, a stillness full of unsaid promises and the fragile, unguarded truth of this moment.
âYouâre⌠ahâawake,â he said, his voice softer than usual, quieter even than he intended, as though speaking louder might shatter you. There was something in itâsomething different from his usual confident toneâthat slipped away, replaced by something raw and uncertain. His throat flexed beneath you as he swallowed, the motion drawing his attention back to the steady, undeniable closeness of your body pressed against him. The small weight of you there was heavy in the best way, grounding him in a way he didnât even realize he needed. âSorry,â he added quietly, almost reflexively, the words coming out softer than he planned. âI didnât mean to⌠keep you here.â There was a pause after the words, a hesitation lingering in the air.
Your lips curved into a small, gentle smile, warm and unguarded. Then a soft giggle slipped past before you could stop itâlight, teasing, but filled with affection. It was the kind of sound that tugged at something in him, something older and more guarded, and it made him glance down at you with a quiet intensity. The sound seemed to still the air around you, pulling him closer in spite of himself.
âDonât apologize,â you murmured, your voice still heavy with the haze of sleep, warm and intimate. âThank you, Suzaku. I⌠I actually slept really well last night. Because of you.â
The words landed softer than a whisper, and yet they struck him harder than they should have. His chest tightened, it left him momentarily breathless. They were not words he was accustomed to hearingânot so plainly, not so vulnerably. His first instinct was to deflect, to mask the way his heart was pounding against his ribs, to say something casual, knightly, anything to keep his voice steady. But his tongue faltered. The truth of what he felt pressed too heavily against him to disguise it.
Instead, all he managed was an awkward, quiet stammer: âIâuh⌠thatâs good. Iâm glad. Thatâs⌠really good.â The words felt heavy and clumsy coming out of his mouth, betraying the way his thoughts had scattered the moment youâd spoken. He wasnât used to speaking so plainlyâespecially not when your words carried something so unexpectedly intimate. His voice lacked its usual steadiness, wavering slightly in the softness of the morning air.
Your giggle returned, soft and light, like the quiet chime of bells in the stillness of the room. This time it was accompanied by something deliberateâa playful, feather-light caress against the side of his nape with your fingertips. The touch was so gentle it startled him, like a whisper of warmth brushing through him. Suzakuâs ears and cheeks went an even deeper shade of red, heat rising through his skin. His lips twitched, caught somewhere between a helpless, self-conscious smile and one that was almost shy. He let out a small sigh, a sound both resigned and fond, as though admitting to himself that there was no hiding the truth. No matter how hard he tried, he wasnât fooling you in the slightest.
Finally, he shifted his hand ever so slightly. His fingers moved with deliberate care, pressing the tip of one gently to the top of your head. The gesture was impossibly tenderâsoft enough to feel like it might disappear entirely if it pressed any harderâlike a pat meant for something far too delicate to withstand anything firmer. The motion was slow, purposeful, almost reverent, and it carried with it a quiet weight he could not name aloud.
ââŚYouâre welcome,â he murmured at last, the smallest of smiles breaking fully through. It was the kind of smile that softened his whole expression, fleeting but enough to reveal the truth behind his wordsâan unspoken promise that lingered in the stillness between you.
And though Suzaku Kururugi could stand unshaken against storms, battlefields, and entire armies without hesitation, he knewâdeep and certainâthat nothing left him more vulnerable than this. The sight of you: tiny, trusting, curled against him, smiling up at him like he was your whole world. And somehow, quietly, irrevocably, in that moment, he realized you had become his too.
Pairing: Various Aged Up Adult Characters x Adult!GN!Reader
CW: Basic holiday content with implied lovemaking at the end.
Happy Holidays!
Oh the holidays. The snow be falling. The lights be glowing. The discount bargain sales. Reds greens and yellows are the color scheme of this month. You couldn't be immune to the cheery merry sensations. In your cozy decorated home on Christmas Eve, your significant other keeps an arm draped around you or holding your hand tenderly the whole night. Whether it be curling up together lost in your own starry eyed world or cuddling and immersing in your shared warmth. Through the hearty feast, the eggnog and cider, even the Christmas movie marathon, sharing this time of year with them swelled up your heart. To their surprise, mistletoe lined the ceiling all over. To their delight, you showered them in tender, burning passionate smooches. One thing leads to another, clothing falling and decorating the floor, as your bare bodies grew entangled in the thralls of passion before the crackling fireplace. As the clock tolls midnight, you both came with creamy thick pleasure. Bidding each other a Merry Christmas before savoring another few rounds of merry making throughout the powdery twinkling night. Awakening to the sunrise of Christmas Day, to where more kisses and smashes became your gift to one another. What a way to spend the holidays.
fingering, uhh yeah dthat idk i suck at writing, specifically smut, i reedit this if i remember okay
ok idk but might be ooc n bad writing very bad
you sat at the edge of the soft bed, the cushion dipping slightly under your weight as Suzaku stood beside you, cautious, nervous, and too much of fear that he might hurt you.
"are you really sure? i don't want to harm you at all.." Suzaku said, he slowly sat down beside you, the cushion dipping even further as his hands were in his lap as he looked at you, seeing if you were sure with this. "I'm sure, Suzaku. Don't be too cautious, alright?" you simply reassured him, leaning closer to him deliberately, as if testing if he'll distance himself further as you placed your hand over his.
"Okay.." he exhaled slowly, nervously, but letting himself loosen as he cupped your face hesitantly, still cautious as his lips hovered yours, his lower lip trembling slightly before kissing you. His hands wrapping around you as his calloused thumb brushing your cheeks.
"Is this your first time?" you faced him, slowly wrapping your arms around his body as well, seeing him stiffen for a second before forcing to relax as he started to kiss your neck tentatively, the kisses feather-light. "..." he didn't reply, his arms held you a little tighter, his kisses still feather-light before he rested his head on your neck, soft breathing filling the room as he tapped your wrist gently, as if asking silently if he could continue further.
"Mhm." he slowly guided you to remove your pants slowly after you let him continue, his calloused fingers lightly grazing your skin as he put your pants on the bed, his hands soothingly rubbing your hips despite his hands being rough from years of training, his hands moving as if worshipping.
his hands slowly moved down your legs, not daring to remove the underwear unless you told him to. he dragged the moment on longer for a while, kissing you, worshipping, and sometimes asking if you really wanted this.
then a calloused finger of his slowly hooked onto your panty, taking them off and placing them near the pants as he stopped for a moment, this was something he couldn't back out, he couldn't because he was too far to go back. ".. Can I?"
".. Yes." was your answer, he thought about it for a moment, not wanting to hurt you, he gently spread out your thighs, his lips pursed together, before hesitantly easing a calloused finger inside you, taking it slow as he stopped once the finger was fully inside.
"Is it okay..?" Suzaku asked, his voice quiet, his left hand rose to cup your cheek, you could see his lips pursed together and his brows that were furrowed in hesitation in which you reassured him once more. He then slowly curled his slender, calloused finger. he slid another finger inside you.
"a-ah.." two calloused, slender fingers slowly pulled out, then sliding in once more, his movements a little less cautious as he slowly scissored you, testing to see if you'll like it or not. he was already forming a pace, slow and gentle, his fingers already slick, his lips still pursed together, as if concentrating on what would pleasure you.
Suzaku slightly increased his pace at your small sounds of pleasure, his fingers sliding in and out of you with slick as he tried curling his fingers upwards. "mmh..!" his pace continued, still slow but also scissoring and curling his fingers to see what was best for you and if you'd like it. "nhh.."
".. Faster?" Suzaku asked, to which you agreed, his pace was now going faster, two fingers sliding in and out of you in ease due to how your slick coated his fingers, his pace a bit faster, the two calloused fingers scissoring you wide. "haah..!" his fingers didnt speed up or slowed down, going at a moderate speed as he nuzzled your neck, fingers going faster as if sensing your climax, curling, scissoring, he did his best just so you could rest easy in his arms.
"Suzakâ" was quickly shushed by his lips, his hand softly massaging your scalp as he felt you clench around his fingers, with one final curl, sweet release oozing out as he pulled his fingers out, grabbing a towel to clean up the mess you created, softly patting the cloth against your skin to clean you up, wetting the cushions with water and cleaning them up as well before he went off to get you snacks.
so uh i think i fumbled at the end ngl idk idk idk idk idk im not sure okokok
i make hc for lelouch soon once i have an idea i think ok,,,,, koixifa will become fish now ok bye bye
