A Blacksmith and Her Prince // Technoblade x Reader

Blubbled Thoughts

[I REALLY WANTED TO JUST ADD THIS QUICK PART, OKAY I'M DONE BYE] ~Emily

The soapy water soothed your skin in undying tranquility, rubbing away the dirt that attached itself to tangled hair and washing the grim from recent adventures. The bathroom was stuffed full of lavender, the essential oil made your creases relax with every slowed breath, letting your body float gently into the scalding water, its steam making the brass mirrors fog up in secrecy. It felt nice to just let your body rock with the barely moving water, it helped tire out pestering feelings, which should really have some thought put into them. That's why you're here after all, back in the safety of your bed chambers, you did debate on going back to that beautiful garden from before, but the chances of running into him again were high. It's not like you're avoiding him or anything, it's more like you can't act properly around him. As in, words come out differently than they are supposed to, or your tone of voice might shift weirdly, even the way you move around stutters. Maybe it was a cold, you did soak in the freezing blizzard rain for a long period of time, or maybe that one weirdo guard poisoned you. Whatever it was, it needed to stop. You couldn't keep freaking out, losing control is certainly not a thing you enjoy at all, especially over someone who you depicted as spoiled and deceiving, you practically hate him... hated? Well, hate is definitely not the correct word to use right now. Not with the way your heart is basically breaking out of your ribs with every thump of his name, the same name you couldn't even whisper only hours ago.

"Ugh." You pulled hot knees against your chest, finding comfort in the closer contact. "Am I broken?" You huff to no one, spoken words dissipating like the echoes they follow.

Why must you even ponder on him? He's so... bipolar. Can never tell if he likes you or hates you, one moment it's a bitter fight, then it's a casual conversation that somehow ends up with you and him sopping wet in the pouring rain together? Because that makes sense?

"God it's like- it's like he's playing with me." You splash your fists into the water, letting droplets fly uncaringly to the floor. He once said he couldn't care for you or anything to do with you, then the next minute he's caring about the steps you take. He's confusing in a way a puzzle is, pieces that have a perfect place, but that just need a little help getting there, eventually showing you it's true beauty from jagged edges. But, how many pieces can one man have? If you could even call him that, you swear he acts like a wild boar sometimes, you wonder what he'd act like on the battlefield. If he were any different, or if he held that same glimmer of sorrow in garnet glass.

"Well, he's definitely not a damn blood god." You scoff, leaning up and away from the waters presence, letting it trickle down your shoulders to your thighs, pooling together at your ankles. Getting out of the tub, you grab the closest towel, ignoring the redness that seeps off of it, instead using the gurgling of an empty drain to distract you. "Like, who does he even think he is?" You wrap the towel around damp curves securely, leading yourself to the bathroom door while shifting your voice into low and deep monotone gruff. "I'm The Blade blehhhh, fear me or I'll eat your children and take your gold." Your mocking ended with a sudden waft of air coming from the wooden door, it opened with such speed it slammed into the tiled wall.

You scream.

"What the fuck?!" You almost lost the grip of the fabric that was covering your very naked body.

"M-Ma'am?"

"Anne! What the shit Anne!" You let gasps of air leave your sore throat. "I thought you were gonna bloody kill me." You gawk at her with angry eyes, leaving a wet hand to grasp your heart dramatically.

"I'm sorry, Madam." She twitches in her spot a tad, scratching her neck nervously. "Were you just... talking to yourself about his Majesty?" She asks.

"...No." you reply like it was said in a script, side eyeing the tiled wall.

"I thought you said something about The Blade?" She continues to question.

"No I-I said... the... the maid! Yes, yes that's what I said." You splutter with a nod, sounding superbly convincing. "I was wondering where you've been, since I haven't seen you in so long..." You gander at her stature, she has the same clothing as before, hair slicked back in a pristine ponytail, except this time her face was adorned with something like a mark that covered the side of her left eye, but it was much darker, like the colour of wine. "Anne? What-"

"Yes, I have been very busy." She spins away from your peering gaze, going back to whatever she was in here for. "But, I should hopefully be around more often now." She answers without a breath, folding clothes rhythmically.

"Uh, right."

"Speaking of which, have you seen the Prince recently?" She says while working, walking around your dripping wet figure that stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, leaving a puddle to drizzle at your toes.

"Yeah we- we ran into each other for a second." Oh it was so much more than a second, it was like a scene from a novel, meaningful conversations that ended up with wet bodies gliding together in playful fashion, burning a desire deep down into the depths of your bubbling stomach, burning like the impending doom of a volcanic eruption.

"How is he?" She throws you a glob of clothes, you didn't care to see what they were.

"He's." Probably over-thinking.

"Fine." Maybe starting to hate you again.

"I think." Or even in the same boat as you.

"I probably should've spoken to him longer." You mumble through lazy lips.

She hums, acknowledging your useless imagery.

"Maybe you should have, Ma'am." She says, snapping her fingers directed to you. "Put those on, they are much cleaner than the ones you were just wearing." She grins.

Fuck.

The clothes.

You pat the pile of sewn cotton.

"Hah, yep. Clean clothes." Oh my god she knows, she knows everything, it's over, it's all over, this is so embarrassing, it's okay, it's fine, play it cool. "I like playing in the rain."

Nailed it.

"Do you like playing in mud too?"

Fuck.

"Yes, it's so fun." Here comes the script again. "I love it." You say through gritted teeth.

"Well," she laughs, tilting her eyes downwards. "Put those on and try not to play in the rain this time, I have to go round up some mongrels." She says, leading out through the exit door. "Who knows how they got out this time." The last thing you saw of her was a pearly white smile, dripping with very obvious mischief.

That went well.