#how even when the world is dark and scary; there is still warmth and comfort and softness

[panncakes]

“I thought love was war. I didn’t know it was supposed to... I didn’t know it was supposed to be peace.”

c. taylor jenkins reid

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

WHERE YOU LEAD ME, I’LL FOLLOW ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; opening up is hard, even under the comfort of a starry sky, seated next to your childhood friend. fortunately, suguru knows you like the back of his hand.

word count; 10k (dont even look at me i got carried away ok….)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, mutual pining, childhood friends to lovers (eventually. probably.), hurt/comfort (mostly comfort tbh), fluffy overall!!, reader is silly and suguru is down horrendous, written with a no curses au in mind, i’m madly in love with suguru geto and it shows

a/n; nothing goes harder than sugu w/ the childhood friends trope i fear. the angst potential, the fluff potential….. the slow burn of it all……….. anyways can u tell i miss him :’3

time goes by so very quickly.

as you look up at the starry sky, the thought envelops you like a fuzzy tidal wave; heavy, suffocating, entirely unavoidable. these days, sinking beneath its weight is all you seem to do.

a sigh flows from your parted lips. soft and quiet, somewhat resigned. the midnight air tastes cold and crispy on your tongue, turning into a flurry of vapour as you breathe it out again, watching it dissipate into the summer night. beyond the boundary of your vision, stars burn in tandem. all you can see is the darkness of the cosmos, pupils dilating as you take in the immensity of the world, the little flickers of starlight that glimmer in that all-encompassing veil of black — blooming out across the galaxy. 

the moon is beautiful, tonight. 

a big blob of reflected sunlight, smiling down at you so very tenderly, so gorgeous that it makes your heart ache. shining with a hazy kind of brightness, soothing like the lilt of a mother’s voice. 

and there’s a comfort, in the familiarity of the sight. because the moon is always, always there. always shining down on you, always when you need it most, even when it’s carved into a crescent or hidden by a blur of clouds. a view that never ever seems to change, no matter how many years go by. 

what a lovely thing to be.

another second lost, as you gaze into the nothingness of space. time keeps passing you by, never stopping — seconds turning into minutes, minutes turning into months. that incessant moving of the hands of the clock; tick, tock, tick, tock. over and over again. 

and, really, it’s a little bit scary. you think you might be terrified of time. you’re so afraid, afraid of being left behind, afraid that the world will turn its back on you and then walk away. afraid that everyone and everything will change shape before you know it.

but even in this always-changing, turbulent mess of a life — 

one thing remains the same.

”ah. there you are.”

(that voice.)

honeyed and smooth, but still rough around the edges. just a little husky. deep and familiar, etched into your brain; even if you were to forget everything else, you’re sure you’d still remember it. that familiar, familiar voice. it sounds like moonlit nights, and sunkissed kitchens.

it sounds like coming home.

a turn of your head. it’s a subconscious reaction, as natural as the beating of your own heart, memorized down to the very marrow of your bones — muscle memory, to seek him out after hearing the low timbre of his voice. you do it as if it’s the only thing worth hearing.

and suguru is smiling, when your eyes meet his. that gentle upward tug of his lips, small yet sincere. the one that always puts your mind at ease.

a warmth settles in your chest, at the sight of him. hair down, cascading over his shoulders and back, a little messy; as black as the night sky. a stark contrast to the white of his shirt, old, oversized, with some indie band on the front.

his eyes glimmer like little pockets of stardust in the darkness of the night. cutting through the haze, into your very soul.

”… damn,” you click your tongue, faux pout playing at your lips. ”how’d you know i’d be up here?”

suguru shrugs. ”lucky guess,” he lies.

of course i knew, he thinks. finding you is his specialty. always has been. like that one time he found you hiding under a table at your twelfth birthday party, or the time he found you crying in the woods when you got lost on your school field trip.

finding you comes easy, to suguru. almost like he’s always seeking you out, subconsciously or otherwise, always paying attention to your movements. you go south, and he follows. you go north, and he’s already waiting up ahead.

he’s worried. just a bit, is what he tells himself, but truthfully it’s more than that. because tonight was supposed to be for you. for the both of you, a celebration of your shared graduation — but before he knew it, you had slipped away. seizing the opportunity as soon as people grew too sleepy to notice. 

(sadly for you, no amount of fatigue could ever distract him from the lack of your presence.)

you look small, suguru thinks, curled up with your knees to your chest. sitting all alone up on the roof of his home, a place you’d always go to on nights when you couldn’t sleep. together, sharing whispered secrets and hushed laughter until the sun began to rise again.

back then, it felt like the two of you were the only ones awake in the whole world.

(the safest world he’s ever known.)

the distance between you grows narrower, as suguru makes his way over to you — and it always does, at the end of the day. no matter how much time you spend apart, that uncomfortable distance always, always ends up broached. one of you always moves closer. as if it’s unavoidable, two planets spinning around each other’s orbit.

suguru plops down right next to you, crossing his legs and leaning back. his knee bumps against the side of your shoe, and his shoulder grazes yours. it’s natural, as natural as the glow of the moon, this closeness between you. it reminds you of the gentle lapping of ocean waves at your bare ankles; on mellow summer days, comforting and familiar. a warmth that never goes away.

a brief inhale, and your heartbeat settles into a tender rhythm again. the scent that always lingers on suguru’s skin drifts throughout the air, mingling with your own — it can be hard to distinguish between the two, with how often you end up wearing each other’s clothes, but you could never mistake it for anything else. cedarwood and earl gray, with a hint of coconut-scented shampoo. enveloping every single one of your senses, grounding you in a way nothing else can.

leaning just a little closer to him, subconsciously, you let a fond exhale slip from your lips. barely audible. and suguru mimics it.

”of course i knew,” he whispers, voice gone soft. ”i know you.”

(your chest tightens. it doesn’t go away.)

another tiny breath flows into the air, as you gaze up at the stars in wonder. ”… yeah.”

the silence between you is a comfortable one. always has been. a little fickle, always shattered by one of you before long — usually you, though suguru isn’t much better. 

but this time, he stays silent.

he’s waiting. you know he is, because he always does. he’s waiting, waiting for you to break the silence first. waiting for you to say something, tell him what’s wrong, explain why you’re up here instead of celebrating with the others. waiting for you to explain why your eyes have looked so tired, this past week.

(you’d like to ask him the same thing. he’s an idiot if he thinks a little makeup is enough to hide those dark circles from you.)

suguru is nothing if not patient. so he waits, unbothered by the silence. admiring the stars, and the flicker of their light. a vague worry simmers in his chest, however, and he can’t stop himself from glancing down at you every now and then.

an insatiable yearning to soothe you gnaws at his heart — but he can’t, not unless you let him.

a sigh drops from your lips, suddenly. deep and heavy, like a rock thrown into the depths of a lake. the silence breaks. 

”hey, suguru.”

the man in question doesn’t speak, only emitting an inquisitive hum. he doesn’t look at you, either; a form of respect. knowing you’ll find it easier to get whatever’s bugging you off your chest without him scrutinizing you. 

the pads of your fingers tap at the tiles of the roof. an absentminded habit, as you inhale a bit of the midnight air. it tastes like summer. ”do you remember how we first met?”

suguru glances at you, a surprised glint in his eyes. he can’t help himself — unable to resist the temptation of seeing your face, drinking in your expression.

then he chuckles.

”haha.. are you feeling sentimental?” he teases, a lighthearted sense of amusement in his voice. bubbling up like seafoam. ”did you come out here just to brood?”

the corners of his lips quirk up when he hears you huff, hugging your legs closer to your chest with a furrow of your brow. cheek squished against your kneecap as you meet his gaze.

”c’mon,” you whine, pouting childishly in a way you know will make him give in. ”just indulge me a little…”

suguru smiles. it’s soft around the edges, smoothed over with an unmistakable fondness — and he does indulge you. he always does. ”of course i do,” he assures you.

the silence that settles between your words is tender. a mutual understanding, of sorts.

of course i remember. how could i not?

”you broke into my backyard.”

a sigh. heavy and sharp, as it tumbles from your lips, and suguru has to bite back a grin. his eyes shine with something teasing, in the dark, when you shoot a glare his way.

”okay, first of all —” you begin, ”i didn’t break into anything. i climbed over the fence. peacefully.”

suguru raises a brow. ”that literally doesn’t matter? it’s still trespassing.”

”i was seven years old!”

”some criminals start young.”

another harmless little huff, as you halfheartedly try to sound annoyed. it doesn’t work. in an attempt to hide your growing smile, you tuck your face into your knees. ”whatever.”

then your gaze shifts. towards that expanding starry sky, the vibrant flicker of the moon, like a moth to a flame. helpless to its charms. it looks like a giant sponge cake, the kind you and suguru used to make when that was the only recipe you knew — you’d eat from the batter, and he’d scold you. then he’d do it too, when your back was turned.

a smile settles on your lips. in every star, you find a new memory; and the fuzzy nostalgia that engulfs you makes your heart feel bare. ”i just wanted to pet your cat,” you recall, softly.

suguru nods. gazing down at you, basking in the expression on your face — peaceful and relaxed, a little more yourself. so effortlessly pretty, bathed in moonlight. ”yeah. i remember.”

he allows the memory to sweep him away, for a second or two. recalling the sight of you, all those years ago, an unfamiliar child in his backyard. it was like you had just fallen out of the sky. quiet and meek, but looking at his cat with an excited glimmer in your eyes.

”you just pointed to her and expected me to understand,” he continues. a grin blooms on his face, hopelessly endeared. ”you were shy back then.”

a raise of your eyebrow. ”um? i’m still shy?”

suguru gives you a look. he doesn’t have to say anything — it’s written all over his face. the classic suguru look, the kind where you can tell he’s itching to say oh, really now? the kind where he tries to look judgemental, but never quite manages to hide the amusement in his eyes.

a small giggle leaves your lips, and suguru smiles, once more. so helpless in the face of your joy.

”then we watched movies at my place.”

you hum. ”it was fun.”

”yeah.”

another bout of silence. soft, terribly precious. the air is chilly, but not enough to make you shiver; a mild summer night, pleasant on your skin and light on your heart. a gentle breeze tousles your hair. in the distance, you hear cicadas buzzing — a familiar sound. unchanging.

(if only everything else could stay the same, too.)

”do you remember what movie it was?”

a lazy smile plays at suguru’s lips, when he angles his face to look at you. one eyebrow raised. ”is there a point to this, or —?”

”i just wanna reminisce.”

suguru pauses. your eyes trail across the view that stretches out before you, from the moon to the distant city lights, as you fidget absentmindedly with the strings of your hoodie. he thinks to himself that you look a little lost. gaze forgotten, within the depths of that endless night sky.

no more teasing, he decides, tactfully. instead, he opts to answer your question; softly, as if he could hurt you if he raised even a single octave of his voice. ”whisper of the heart,” is all he says.

a hum, as you nod. decisively. ”the best one.”

suguru turns his head away, and mutters something under his breath. but you can still hear him — and you know he wants you to.

”spirited away is the best one…”

out of the corner of your eye, you shoot him a thoroughly unimpressed look. he bites back a soft bout of laughter, teeth sinking into his lip gently, not enough to sting.

”you’re so basic,” you grin.

”you just want to feel quirky,” suguru shoots back, instantaneous. ”and you only like it because of seiji.”

”you only like spirited away because of haku!”

suguru closes his eyes, and leans back a little, crossing his arms in a childish fashion — and you know he only does it to make you laugh. ”i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies.

”oh please,” you scoff. ”you really think i don’t remember your queer awakening?”

”hm? what was that?” feigning confusion, he puts a hand to his ear. but there’s a mirth in his eyes, impossible to miss. ”you’re gonna have to come closer, i can’t hear you from here.”

another unimpressed look. you exhale, something in between a huff and a chuckle. ”if i get any closer i’ll be in your lap, dumbass.”

suguru bites his cheek, softly. gulping down the words that almost slip off his tongue.

(i wouldn’t mind.)

”sorry, say that again?”

a little push meets his shoulder, as you roll your eyes. ”yeah, yeah. whatever.”

the banter dies down, as fast as it appeared. then a smile breaks out across your faces, in tandem, the atmosphere shifting into something more sincere — and doesn’t it always, when you’re watching the starry sky with the one you love most?

when suguru continues, his voice has taken on that softer tone, again. the one he only ever really uses around you. ”i liked thinking of us as them,” he admits. ”me as haku, and you as chihiro.”

a soft blink. then your smile grows, sweet like syrup. ”.. hehe. that’s funny,” you cross your legs. palms flat against the roof, knee leaning comfortably against suguru’s. ”i always thought of us as seiji and shizuku.”

there’s something faraway, in your eyes. something suguru can’t look away from.

tentatively, his fingers dig into the skin of his palms, and he speaks. absentminded, a little uncertain.

”… they get married at the end, don’t they?”

a pause. then your gaze snaps over to suguru’s, suddenly mischievous — and he regrets opening his mouth.

”oh?” you purr, almost beaming. inching closer, like a predator sizing up their prey. ”oh shit? are you about to propose, mister geto?”

”i’m just stating facts,” he quips, hands raised in defense. desperately hoping you won’t notice the red tint crawling up his neck, obscured by the darkness of the night.

”incorrect facts,” you grin. if you notice the blush on his face, you don’t say anything. ”they get engaged. not married. big difference.”

suguru huffs. it’s small, as he tries to keep himself from smiling. the beating of his heart is faint, a tender rhythm, stirred by every move you make. he pushes the words he yearns to say back down his throat.

(i wouldn’t mind that, either.)

again, silence blooms. curling around the space between you. it feels nice, just to be like this; just you, and your very best friend, under the soft lighting of the moon. as if you’re the only ones who exist, in an otherwise empty universe — devoid of space and time. like the night could just stop, and stretch on forever. 

there’s an unspoken question in the air, though. one suguru is still waiting for you to answer. one you refuse to answer properly, until he does the same.

you’ve both noticed, of course. even if no one else has, neither of you could ever miss it. suguru has noticed the turmoil in your eyes, and you’ve noticed the fatigue under his. those little signs of stress, as everything around you keeps spinning on; as the future grows closer, with every passing day.

(it’s overwhelming, you both muse.)

— and finally, you’ve had enough.

”suguru,” you call out, and his gaze finds yours instantly. ”have they been stressing you out, lately?”

suguru blinks, eyelashes fluttering softly. a little sleepy. they.

then he smiles. maybe a bit weak, but still as sincere as always — resigned to the fact that he really can’t hide anything from you, after all.

(of course you’d notice it. he was stupid to think you wouldn’t.)

a hum, as he breathes in the air and then exhales it all. trying to formulate the words inside his head, turn the feelings into syllables. and you’re patient. silent, as you admire the way moonlight caresses his skin.

”i’ll manage.” is what he finally says, and your lips curl down into a frown. ”they’ve just been getting on my case, again. you know how they are.”

suguru closes his eyes, and you inch closer to him. barely, by a hair, just to let him know you’re still listening. that you’re waiting for him to continue.

it’s tough, for him. opening up, being vulnerable.

but he knows you won’t do it unless he does, too. so he takes that leap, despite the insistent voice in his head urging him to just keep it to himself.

”it’s just… all these expectations, you know?” he meets your eyes, a little sheepish. downplaying his troubles so smoothly, as if you wouldn’t notice. ”i’m used to it by now, but sometimes i guess it still gets to me.”

you hum, and he continues.

”i feel like i have to be… solid,” he decides on. ”put-together. responsible, and mature.” a sigh, as he wrings his hands together. ”and that’s fine — but it’s like they have everything planned out. like everyone does. how i should act, where i should go…”

suguru gnaws at the flesh of his bottom lip, so focused on verbalizing his thoughts that he barely notices your fingers curling around his. but he still squeezes them, lightly. as naturally as breathing.

”it’s like my future’s already set in stone. and i’m just expected to follow it,” he looks up at the moon. ”which is also fine. i already know what i want to do. but somehow, all of it just feels so…”

he pauses. unsure of how to put it.

”… suffocating?” you finish for him. 

there’s a second in which suguru can do nothing but breathe. as if frozen, stuck in motion, caught off guard by how deeply your minds are intertwined.

— what a wonderful thing, to have someone pluck the words you’re afraid to say from the back of your throat.

a smile blooms on his face, and a gratitude shines in his eyes. almost overflowing. 

(you’ve always been the only one who ever seems to understand.)

”yeah,” he sighs, relieved. and suddenly his chest feels a lot lighter. odd, how just the tilt of your voice when you say a certain word can chase that discomforting sensation away. 

”don’t listen to them,” you say, assuredly, so softly it’s like you’re coaxing him into believing you. it works. ”they don’t matter.”

suguru chuckles, rueful. ”they’re my parents.”

”so? they aren’t you.” you nudge his side with your elbow. ”they have no say in how you live your life. you don’t need to live up to all those expectations, you know.” 

a soft little breath leaves your lips, and suguru wonders how you seem to always soothe his heart so easily. ”you just need to be suguru,” you mumble, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. ”that’s all.”

a moment passes. suguru parts his lips, closing them again when no sound comes out. and then finally, he speaks.

”… yeah,” he muses. ”maybe.”

”definitely,” you huff. ”trust your best friend. i know best.”

”careful,” he teases, tilting his head lazily to meet your gaze. ”you’re starting to sound like them.” the smile on his face only grows when you gape at him, wholly offended, as if you can’t believe what he just said.

”wha — suguru…” you whine, sleepy, clinging to the sleeve of his shirt. digging your nails into the fabric and tugging on it childishly. ”don’t say that. i’m nothing like them!”

a giggle pushes past his lips. ”sorry, sorry,” he soothes, ruffling your hair with his palm. rough hands, big and warm, that always seem to find their way to your skin. ”i’m just kidding. thank you. really.”

the smile that he gives you glows brighter than the moon. he squeezes your hand, softly — a silent i love you. eyes closed, formed into little crescents, and when he speaks he sounds so painfully sincere. 

”i think i’ll be fine as long as i have you,” he says. it comes out sounding something like a prayer. 

the words make your eyes soften. melting into a mellow hue, so full of affection that you can almost taste it on your tongue. 

”everything will turn out fine,” you murmur, consoling him. still not letting go of his hand. ”you have your whole life ahead of you, you know.”

he chuckles. the sound would be sweet if it didn’t have that teasing tilt to it, the one that tells you his amusement is at your expense. ”now you’re starting to sound like my grandma,” he quips, as if itching for something to bicker about.

but you only pout, and let your fingers slip from his. the warmth that leaves you is so jarring that you’re almost tempted to take his hand into yours again — but you just frown at him. ”i can never win with you, huh?”

suguru shrugs. ”need to keep you humble,” he chirps, pulling at your cheek gently. a lazy grin on his lips. ”we don’t want that ego of yours to grow as big as satoru’s.”

trying to keep yourself from grinning with him, you slap his hand away, playfully. ”that would never happen.”

”uh-huh.”

you give him a look.

”my bad.”

a moment passes. gradually, you feel your heart beginning to melt — just a little, but enough to get your voice hopelessly soft on your tongue. the glimmer of the moon embraces every cell in your body, painting over your features with a certain kind of bleeding tenderness. it’s hard to stop it from seeping out.

”you know that i love you. right?” tumbles from your lips, breathed out into the sky, words too heavy to be held back. ”even if your parents give you trouble, and everyone else, too — i’m still on your side.”

”always,” you promise, devotedly earnest. meeting his gaze. and suguru can’t look away.

something flickers, in the depths of his eyes, like a shooting star. something delightful.

he doesn’t quite know what to say. but he nods; almost meek, in a way, and it makes your chest ache. suguru’s always been the type to keep his troubles to himself, content with never letting anyone see into his heart — even if he’d like them to deep down.

if you can be there for him, even just for a night, then that’s more than enough.

he lets the silence linger for a while longer, soft breathing and the rustling of grass filling the space where your words would be. then he looks at you with newfound determination, suddenly, eyes shining in a way you don’t recognize. 

”— and you know that i love you, too.” 

a moment passes. 

an affirmative hum buzzes in your throat, and you give him the ghost of a nod, shying away from his deep gaze. hoping to escape the intimacy of the question. but he doesn’t let you, stare so heavy that you have no choice but to meet his eyes again, after he nudges your hand with his.

the words that fall from his lips surprise you. something akin to a pout plays on his lips, but it’s more serious than that — he looks dejected.

”… do you, though?” he pushes, a troubled frown on his lips. ”do you know that i love you? just as much as you love me?” 

at your stunned silence, suguru sighs, bringing a hand up to smooth over the crease between his brows. ”sometimes i worry that you don’t,” he admits. ”you always think too much. but i don’t want you to ever have to worry about that.”

his voice is firm, when he continues. ”i don’t want you to ever second-guess my love for you,” he declares, and you cower a little under the intensity of his gaze. playing with your fingers instead of looking at him. ”— so i want your answer.”

when his hand finds its way to your face, you stiffen, just barely. but it’s soft, the way he cups your jaw; the warmth of his palm smoothing over your skin. gentle, as he forces you to meet his eyes, tilting your chin up slightly. a bold move, even though physical contact is no stranger in your dynamic. you feel your heart pick up in speed. 

”do you know that i love you?” he asks, and it sounds almost pleading. you can only find it in you to stare. 

suguru’s eyes are filled with something, something you’d like to call love. and they’re looking deep into yours, almost as if coaxing you into drowning in their hue. mesmerizing. ridiculously pretty. if you stare into them for too long, you fear that you might never be able to look away.

but they’re sweet, and warm. painted over with worried hue, something very kind. familiar. the same eyes that have soothed you for as long as you can remember. 

in your flustered state, you can do nothing but blink dumbly — gaze darting from his eyes, to his forehead, to the sky, to his lips. 

he can tell the eye contact makes you nervous, but some part of him won’t allow you to squirm away. this is important. he needs to know that you know. he doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep at night, otherwise.

finally, you squeak out an affirmative yes. and that’s all it takes for him to relax; in one smooth motion, his hand leaves your skin, a relief having bloomed in his eyes. 

”okay. that’s good,” he exhales. 

swallowing down a gulp, your gaze drifts away from the boy to your left. suguru is terrifying, really — doing stuff like that out of nowhere. you check your pulsepoint, discreetly, just to make sure your heart is still beating. 

”alright, then,” he suddenly proclaims, breaking the fleeting silence. ”your turn.”

a blink. your eyelashes flutter in confusion, as you gaze up at him, a question painted on your features. suguru glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

”you’ve been stressed, lately,” he remarks. stating the obvious so you don’t have to. with a soft gaze, eyes that shimmer with understanding. ”i can tell, you know?”

(yeah. he always can, can’t he?)

”… uh,” you croak. clearing your throat and attempting to gather your thoughts, hoping the words will find their way to your lips. ”well. i dunno, really...”

suguru emits a low, affirmative noise, not looking at you. opening up like this makes you feel so uncomfortable. but it’s suguru. you trust him. and you know he won’t let you get away from this, either; he’ll stay up all night if he has to. just waiting for you to put your faith in him.

a sigh leaves your lips, finally, and it comes out sounding just a tad exhausted. ”i… guess i’ve just been thinking, lately.”

and, really, it’s an understatement. thinking is all you’ve been doing, for these past few weeks. thinking of this, and of that. the past and the future. him and you.

suguru hums. an unspoken encouragement.

”everything is just so…” you move your hands, haphazardly, hoping they’ll make the words easier to say. but nothing comes to you. everything is all jumbled up, inside your mind, and it’s just — 

”overwhelming,” you finish. the word falls off your tongue like a tidal wave. ”everything passes by so quickly, and…” you bite your lip. ”i feel like i can’t catch up. i can’t visualize the future at all, and that’s…”

(it’s scary.)

”— it just makes me feel confused.”

suguru waits. patient, attentive, making sure you get all the words out before he speaks. as grounding as the moon, as warm as the sun. 

when you don’t elaborate further, avoiding his gaze, he opts to finally soothe you.

”that’s understandable,” he chimes, voice buzzing with care. ”you don’t have to think about the future right now. living in the present is enough,” a breeze drifts by, tousling his black hair. ”.. it’s for the best, really.”

a smile. it’s a little sad, as you wring your hands together. ”i know,” is all you can say. because you do. it just doesn’t change anything.

the sensation of your nails scraping against the tiles of the roof is discomforting, but you don’t stop. when you part your lips, your voice comes out tiny. barely above a whisper.

”i’m so afraid of change.”

suguru looks at you. his gaze softens, impeccably.

”everything keeps changing. all the time,” you bite into the flesh of your cheek, harshly. ”i hate it.”

”that’s understandable, too,” suguru soothes. tentative, as his hand goes to rest on your head, smoothing down your hair gently. ”change is unavoidable. but you get better at dealing with it.”

”mm, i know.”

”and some things stay the same, too.” 

you glance up at him, and his eyes crinkle. there’s something unspeakable in them, something that’s always been there. light and heavy, all at once. something a little bit too wonderful for words.

suguru smiles. almost a little shy, as he looks into your eyes. ”like you and me.”

…

a deep love unfurls in your chest, warming you up from the inside out. fuzzy and tingly. but with it comes a deep sadness, bittersweet, that you can’t chase away no matter how hard you try; like a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe, no matter how many times you try to scrape it off against the concrete.

like you and me.

(he doesn’t know that’s what scares you the most. the thought of that one thing changing, while you just stand there, helpless to stop it.)

”yeah,” you breathe. a wounded little breath.

suguru notices it, despite your vague attempts to act like nothing’s wrong. he notices the fear in your voice, the uncertainty. and once again, he gets the impression that you look a little lost. like you aren’t sure where to plant your feet.

it bothers him. an itch he wants to scratch away. but before he can get to the bottom of it, you begin to speak, once more.

”with you, it’s like…” a breath flows from your lips, as you try to find the words. but this time, they come to you with relative ease. ”if i could do my life over again, and make everything turn out different… then i’d still always keep you.”

silence. you continue, suddenly a little embarrassed at the honesty in your tone. but it’s too late to back out now. 

”and even if everything else changes, if i could pick just one single thing to keep — then it’d be you, too.” the smile on your face is small, a little sheepish. “that’s how it is, so…” 

you trail off. not sure what else to say. suguru isn’t, either; he feels just a little bit stunned, in the face of your sincerity. yet he parts his lips, softly, words making themselves manifest before his mind can even begin to catch up.

”i don’t think i’ve ever told you this,” he begins, not entirely sure where the words will take him. blinking up at the sky, entranced, whilst you look at him quizzically. ”you always call me your guardian angel, right?”

the question makes your lips curl up. it’s a habit of yours, one that’s become almost muscle memory. you don’t remember how it started, but it’s in everything suguru does; from the way he can always tell when you’re feeling overwhelmed, to the way he never fails to bring you a coffee right before your exam starts. 

suguru is always looking out for you, even when you’re apart. like a guardian angel. yours.

you nod. ”because you are.”

suguru smiles, breathing out a fond chuckle, and then shakes his head. ”it’s the opposite.”

you turn to the man beside you, and he’s already looking at you. with his pretty, soothing brown eyes, the barely visible dark circles beneath them. his gaze is warm and fond, grateful in a way that makes your chest squeeze tight. you melt a little, under its weight.

”you’re my guardian angel,” he says, sickeningly sweet. ”always have been. even back then.”

inhaling the mild air, suguru lets his eyes flutter shut. the taste reminds him of the summer vacations you used to have as kids, when you would ride your bikes to the nearest river and play all day. stopping by any ice cream stand you found on the way there; you always took a bite out of his without asking, and he always tried to get angry at you. but he never could. 

on your way back home, the sky was always dark. a soothing blue hue, stars glittering in the distance, while the moon looked close enough to touch. a night just like this one. you’d walk, together, talking about everything and nothing — sometimes he’d carry you on his back. not once did he drop you. 

a breath, deep and drawn out as he exhales, basking in memories you aren’t privy to. a saccharine smile painted on his lips.

”without you…” he muses, voice a little breathless. fond, and somewhat helpless. but he’s smiling. ”i don’t really know what i’d do, to be honest.”

a moment passes.

”it’s the same for me,” you echo, words escaping your throat before you even get the chance to realize their weight. gaze stuck to the stars, as always. ”i can’t imagine life without you.”

suguru doesn’t speak, afraid that his heart may crawl out his throat if he does. the honeyed smile on his face says more than words ever could, anyway. 

a small bout of laughter leaves your lips. sudden, sad, dripping with longing. it surprises you, catches you off guard — like something within you just overflowed. 

“you know what my biggest fantasy was?” you grin, ruefully. maybe just a little manic. ”i used to think about it all the time, when we were kids.”

suguru looks at you in silence, but there’s a confusion in the way he tilts his head.

there seems to be a knot of some kind, stuck in the very bottom of your chest. something that makes it hard to speak. ”i’d get on a train, and just kinda… leave,” you breathe, hoping it’ll unclog your throat. it doesn’t. ”you know? to somewhere far, far away.” 

and suddenly, the world grows just a little blurred. suguru can see it, in your eyes — you’re someplace else now. gaze trained on something he can’t see. there’s an amused touch to your voice, but also something rather pitiful. a childish wish that never came to fruition.

there’s regret, there, suguru thinks; something close to pain.

”maybe, like… a small port town,” you continue, closing your eyes. “with a cute little café close by, or whatever… somewhere you can see the sea.” 

another breath. you pretend it tastes like salt, like an ocean breeze. then you swallow the lump in your throat, and whisper. ”with you.”

when you finally muster up the courage to meet suguru’s eyes, they shine with nothing but pure understanding. he doesn’t say anything, but he understands. he’s always been like that. not a single word is needed for him to ground you, the way a rock always meets the bottom when it’s thrown into the depths of a lake. 

suguru’s comfort is as natural to you as the gravity that keeps the stars up in the sky.

the voice you’ve grown so used to hearing reaches your ears again, and it’s a low sound, a little raspy. but soft. achingly so, enough that you could almost miss it if you weren’t always so aware of every word that falls from his lips.

suguru looks up at the moon, in tandem with you, and lets the ghost of a smile show. ”… you know what my biggest fantasy was?”

his gaze is sincere, a little forlorn; hopelessly softened, as you meet his eyes. they’re painted over with something sweet, and something that looks just a little bit like regret.

a tilt of your head beckons him to continue, and the corners of his lips curl up further. 

”running away with you,” he breathes. ”anywhere at all. wherever you wanted to go, i’d follow.”

for a moment or two, all you can do is stare. 

you feel your lips part, but no sound comes out, nothing at all. suguru’s hair sways with the breeze, softly, and the light of the moon makes him look somewhat ethereal. like he could disappear if you blinked. 

the silence that blooms in the space between your words is fragile. precious, if a little overwhelming, as it stretches out before you — growing heavier with every passing second. so tender that it makes you feel sick to your stomach, as if the sound of the wind whistling could shatter it into pieces. 

(your heart aches, aches, aches.)

a weak laugh bubbles up from within your throat, something raw and tender hidden behind a veil of faux amusement. something vulnerable you're trying to cover up, like the glassiness of your eyes.

like a memory that never got to happen.

”what, so you’re saying we could’ve been by the seaside by now…?” you groan, forehead slumping against your knees with a bonk. ”what the hell, dude…” 

suguru lets out a chuckle, resting his jaw on the heel of his palm and looking down at you with a smile on his face. one that reaches his eyes, glimmering with something akin to starlight.

”we can still go there,” he consoles you, reaching over to tousle your hair with a palpable softness. ”to the seaside, i mean. i’ll take you.”

for a while, you don’t say anything. a pout plays at your lips, as you attempt to get your emotions under control. 

then you lean back, to lie down flat on the roof. the movement is so sudden that it stings a little when the back of your head meets the tiles, and you wince — a soft but exasperated murmur of careful comes from the boy on your left.

your elbows go to cushion your head, as you take in the immenseness of the sky. ”alright, then,” you hum. ”take me there sometime soon.”

suguru blinks. then his lips curl up. ”got it,” he chirps. mentally mapping out a nice spot, trying to remember the timetables at your local train station.

(next week, maybe. a picnic by the sea. he’ll make those sandwiches that you like.)

then he follows your lead, and goes to lie down on his back. right by your side, so close he can smell the fading scent of your shampoo, curled up right next to you. breathing out a sigh as he takes in the night sky in all its glory. 

there’s something tender, in the air. something that doesn’t need words. a kind of comfortable silence that you’ve learned to treasure, whenever suguru is with you.

so you simply stare at the dark veil over the city, in tandem with him — a pitch-black blanket sewn with stardust.

everything expands, before your very eyes; an infinite cosmos, with all the light you could ever want. the stars blink down at you, as if saying hello, mapping out the galaxy. you try to find the constellations you’re familiar with, the ones suguru have taught you about in the past, but nothing really comes to you.

it’s nice, though. just staring at the stars in wonder.

an exhale, as you breathe in, and then out. you part your lips to whisper, breaking the sleepy silence.

”the stars are so pretty….” 

suguru hums, the sound buzzing right by your ear. a soothing summer lullaby, that only you get to hear. ”yeah,” he whispers back.

a moment passes.

then you both part your lips to speak; smoothly, in a fashion that would be embarrassing if you didn’t feel so terribly safe in each other’s company. simultaneous, as the sentence tumbles from your throats.

”and so are you.”

silence. the seconds stretch on, and on. everything goes quiet.

you’re the first one to burst into laughter — deep, the kind that comes from the very bottom of your stomach. almost wheezing, as you try to catch your breath, arms snug around your shaking body. suguru follows close behind, trying to contain his laughter, but you can hear his little chuckles clear as day.

”eww, what the fuck?” you grin, shifting to lie on your side so you can get a good look at his face. ”you’re so corny!”

suguru snorts. ”i heard you say it too, dumbass.”

a little giggle flows from your lips, and you slump against his shoulder, still trying to control your breathing. suguru curls an arms around your midriff, bringing you closer. muscle memory, to make it more comfortable for you.

”haah…..”

the smile on your face shines brighter than the stars, suguru thinks, looking at you with a bleeding kind of fondness. as if you’re the only thing worth looking at.

”i hope things stay like this forever.”

the light of the moon shines down on the roof, bouncing off the white of your teeth. your canines shine in the dark as you grin, youthful — but there’s a sadness in your eyes, now. one that suguru will never fail to notice.

(one he’ll always yearn to smooth away, the same way his thumb always goes to wipe at any stray eyelashes on your skin, or crumbs at the corner of your mouth. muscle memory.)

”they will,” he assures you, reaching over to find your hand. enveloping it in his bigger one, cradling it, linking your fingers together and squeezing them softly. ”i’ll make sure that they do.”

a chuckle leaves your lips, but suguru thinks it sounds a little meek. like you still don’t believe him.

”i mean it,” he reiterates. more serious this time.

”i know,” you grin. ”but, i mean —”

a moment passes, and then your grin falters. ”you can’t promise that, though.” the expression on your face seems sort of pained, now, troubled by something. ”maybe we’ll move away from each other, or just drift apart, or —”

”that would never happen to us —”

”maybe you’ll meet someone.”

…

”a nice guy, or girl…” a sigh, as you run a hand through your hair. ”and then you’ll… i dunno. get married, i guess. and then eventually you’ll have kids, and buy a house, and —” 

a pause. in a smaller voice, you continue. almost childlike. ”you’ll leave me behind.”

suguru bites back a scoff. it takes concentrated effort. he turns to look at you, but you won’t meet his gaze, and a frown finds its way to his lips. ”… do you honestly think that’s what i want?”

another moment passes you by. more seconds lost, never to return. ”… isn’t it?”

suguru sighs, a little exasperated. maybe just a little hurt, too. ”marriage and kids aside…” he mutters, burning holes into your skin with his steadfast gaze. determined, self-assured. the tilt of his voice leaves no room for doubt. ”there’s only one person i love.”

resisting the temptation to keep your eyes away from him becomes nearly impossible — so you let your gaze trail over, and take him in. in all his glory, silky black hair framing his face, a soft look painted over his features. looking at you as if you matter, as if nothing matters except for you.

and again, something breaks out across the scope of his iris, a shooting star you don’t know what to do with. he looks so hopelessly sincere. 

for a second, all you can do is stare.

then you nod, solemnly. ”satoru, right?” you hum. ”you’re gonna break my heart if you keep bringing him up when we’re together, sugu.”

you don’t need to see his face to know that he’s giving you that unimpressed look, again. the suguru look. he rolls his eyes, and you bite your cheek to stop yourself from smiling.

”i love him too, but that’s different,” he huffs.

”how so?” you prod, eyes crinkling. but there’s something a little meek about the question. he notices it, of course, because what doesn’t suguru notice?

something soft curls around his features, and a hum buzzes in his throat. a heavy tenderness bleeds into his voice. ”i wouldn’t die for satoru,” he says, simply.

a moment passes.

”… you totally would.”

”huh?” suguru blinks. ”no, of course not. are you insane?”

”suguru,” you sigh. ”you are literally the most self-sacrificial bitch i’ve ever met —”

”well, obviously i’d take a bullet or two, but —”

”what do you mean obviously —”

”— you’re the only person i’d die for.”

suguru is smiling, now. amused, sincere. almost on the verge of laughter, the sweet and soft kind that always turns your heart into a puddle. his eyes almost seem to glimmer, in the night, and it’s all you can see for a while. as you try to gather your thoughts, get the right words out.

”… always so dramatic,” you murmur, at last, a little gruff. his smile grows. you shift a little more, lying on your side to face him with a serious expression. ”don’t tell satoru that, okay? he already has it out for me. at this rate he’ll kill me and steal you away.”

a chuckle rumbles through his chest, deep and fond. you continue, a frown tugging at your lips. ”… and i wouldn’t want you to die for me, anyway.”

suguru lets a giggle slip, a bit too sleepy to hold it back. ”mm, i know. but if it ever came down to it, then i still would.” he shifts, too, lying on his side to face you properly.

”to me,” he exhales, and he’s so close you can smell the mint off his breath — ”as long as you’re by my side, i can make it through absolutely anything.”

the smile on his face is boyish. all teeth and crow’s feet, blooming in the light of the moon, a flower just for you. it’s perfect, you think. you don’t want a single day to pass without you seeing it. 

”me too,” you mumble, linking your pinkies together. a silent promise. ”so don’t die. ever.”

suguru’s eyes soften. 

then he hums, absentmindedly. ”… well. i mean,” he clicks his tongue. ”eventually i will. that’s not really something i have a say in.”

a roll of your eyes. ”alright, smartass,” you scoff, and suguru’s eyes crinkle with humour. ”just don’t die before i do, then.”

a hand comes to touch your skin. and it’s sudden, warm, but you don’t flinch away. suguru smooths over your cheek with the back of his hand, seemingly unable to stop himself. soothing, as he exhales a soft breath.

”… i think i’d prefer that to the alternative, honestly,” he admits.

you furrow your brows, softly. a part of you wants to protest, to call him a selfish prick — for even thinking the thought of leaving you behind without a best friend.

but something in you knows he won’t budge, on this one.

(it’s childish, in a way. stubborn, for him to take a joking conversation so seriously. but suguru doesn’t think he could even jokingly suggest that he’d survive without you.)

”seriously, though,” his voice takes on a firmer tone. ”i wouldn’t leave you behind like that. it’s us we’re talking about. you and me.” 

he says the words like they’re undeniable — because they are. there is no him without you. that’s always been the case, hasn’t it? 

suguru stops to think. do you not feel the same? there’s still a crease between your brows, a sign of worry that’s impossible to dismiss. he can’t help but wonder just how long you’ve been thinking about this; how many nights have you spent sleepless, thinking of the future? of the possibility that it entails your parting?

(the thought makes him feel a little bit nauseous.)

”are you afraid that we’ll grow apart?” he asks, into the haze of the summer night. it resounds in the air around you, softly spoken, gentle but coaxing. almost pleading you to open up to him.

and it’s a stupid question, really. 

of course you are. it’s the only thought that really scares you.

time moves so, so fast — always leaving you behind. who’s to say that suguru won’t do the same? that he won’t be taken away from you, swept away by that flow? into the future, while you stay glued to the past — stuck on the roof of your childhood, while he moves on to better things?

the night sky is infinite. sometimes, on nights that are a little too long, when your mind has grown a little too muddled, you think of suguru as a star in that sky. blinking down at you, while you can do nothing but watch. hopelessly out of reach.

gaze trailing down to rest on suguru’s collarbone, you swallow the lump in your throat. a little too vulnerable to feel comfortable with looking into his eyes, afraid of what you’ll see in them.

but he’s patient. waiting, always waiting, for you to catch up. for as long as it takes.

”… of course i am,” you mutter, at last. a weak little thing. farther down the street, a car swooshes by, drowning the sound — but suguru still hears it clear as day. ”i mean, it’s just…”

a meek intake of breath. you blink, desperate to chase away the glassiness forming in your eyes. trying to grasp control over your wavering voice. ”even if you say that we won’t… it’s not like there’s any guarantee. you can’t know for sure.”

suguru wants to stop you, right there. wants to ensure you that he does know, that it’s the only thing he’ll ever know for sure. just that one fact; you and him. never one without the other.

wherever you’d go, he’d follow — that’s how it’s always been. that’s all he’ll ever need.

but he knows you. knows you better than he knows himself. and he knows that he needs to let you speak freely, without interruption, until you’ve gotten every last worry off your chest.

so he settles for simply looking at you, curled up and biting his lip to stop himself from speaking. wishing he could smooth away the moisture in your eyes, already — but the tears need to fall first. he knows it’ll make you feel better.

”i love you,” you whisper, and suguru’s heart claws its way up his throat. ”i love you, and i want to be with you forever — but…” a shaky inhale. ”but i can’t get rid of that fear. the idea of losing you… i just can’t deal with it.”

”don’t you think i feel exactly the same?” he cuts in, softly. 

a beat. you glance up at his face, for a split second, and then back down to his collarbone. a little fragile, curling into yourself as if hiding. ”i don’t know,” you sigh.

(suguru’s heart breaks.)

”i know that you love me too, and all. and i trust you. but…” you trail off, swallowing thickly. ”you already have your future planned out, and everything. maybe i just… don’t have a place in it.”

suguru scoffs, unable to bite back the sound any longer. it’s soft, but frustrated. ”there’ll always be a place for you in my future,” he vows. ”i wouldn’t accept anything less.”

you cower a little, under the warmth of his gaze. sweet, but stern. so distinctly suguru that it makes you falter.

”besides,” he clicks his tongue. ”i don’t need to follow the future that’s been planned out for me. i just need to be suguru.” a warm smile. ”right?”

at the sound of your own words, a light flush blooms on your skin. but for once, suguru isn’t teasing you.

”and you just need to be you,” he continues, arm still wrapped around your midriff. trailing up slowly, so that his hand can smooth over the back of your head. ”that’s all.”

”as long as both of us do that — we’ll always be together.” he looks into your eyes, and you think you spot a constellation inside his iris. ”won’t we?”

another moment of silence, the familiar comfort that settles between you. there’s no pressure to continue — but you do so, anyway. muddled mind still spinning, worried about this and that, despite suguru’s soothing words. 

a part of you can’t put your faith in that kind of future. one where the two of you are together, that you could envision so clearly when you were younger — when him and you was all that you knew for certain. it’s not as simple as it was back then.

(but another part of you desperately yearns for him to prove you wrong.)

”… but,” you mumble, shaky. ”what if it’s not that easy?” a chuckle pushes past your lips, humourless. ”i mean, you can’t possibly… always stay by my side, you know?”

there’s something childish, in the way you say it. like you’re still kids, and you’re whining for him not to leave you behind. selfish, in a way.

what right do you have to chain him to you?

suguru emits a hum. his eyelids flutter shut, for a few seconds — and then he opens them again. 

”… alright,” he drawls. ”let’s make a promise, then.”

confused, you glance up at him. he just smiles — responsible, dependable. your very best friend.

”have i ever broken a promise i made to you?” he asks, and you pause.

”… no,” you answer, hesitant. voice still a tad meek, a little helpless.

(and it’s true. not once has he broken one. when suguru makes a promise, he keeps it. you’ve always, always admired that about him.)

”right?” he grins, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. admiring your moon-lit features. ”so let’s do it.”

a frown tugs at your lips. furrowing your brows at him, your voice flows out, uncertain. ”promise… what, exactly?”

the moon glows, big and bright. hanging in the sky, a beacon of light, the same as it’s always been. suguru thinks you look radiant, under its illumination — even though you’re nervous, and a little teary eyed. just a single glance at your expression is enough to make his heartbeat soften.

you look like what home feels like. 

he could never bear to let that go, to let you go. his very best friend; the one thing in his past he has no qualms about. the one thing in his future worth hanging onto, cherishing fully. no matter what.

suguru parts his lips, smiling. he links your hands together. ”keep being you,” he implores, steadfast. ”and stay by my side.”

a moment passes. 

something crumbles, inside your chest. unable to break away from his gaze, all you can do is fall deeper into the hue of his eyes, crinkling softly — in the same way they always have. he squeezes your palm in his, tightly. a silent promise not to let you go.

— and then you realize something. the same realization that always comes to you, at the end of the day.

the man in front of you is just the same as the boy you met, all those years ago. the same boy who saw you climb over his fence, and let you pet his cat, and watched whisper of the heart with you even though he wanted to start with ponyo instead.

the same boy, always the same boy, no matter how much time passes. even though he’s all grown up now, features more defined. voice deeper and huskier. hands larger, with rougher skin.

he’s changed, just like you have — but he’s still just suguru. just that cool, sweet boy. a dorky guy who never, ever lets you fall too far behind.

a tremendous softness seeps through your veins. a kind of love, old and matured, carefully nurtured. the blinks you indulge in are slow, and your eyes shine with tears. it’s overwhelming, seeing him so up close, but you still can’t look away. he’s so beautiful it hurts.

”suguru…” is all you can sniffle, meekly.

your best friend is still smiling, fondly. wrapped up in you, as close as he can be. a familiar warmth, like a big fuzzy blanket draped over your shoulders; smelling of cedarwood and earl gray, and just a hint of coconut-scented shampoo. tailor-made just for you.

suguru never breaks his promises.

”but… you can’t,” you croak out, gasping as if searching for air. ”you don’t know if —”

”i do,” he cuts you off, gently. ”i do know.”

a breathless inhale of air, as you grasp tighter onto his nimble fingers. you feel meek, lost. not sure where to put your hands, or what to believe. ”how?” you ask, terribly fragile.

suguru takes a deep breath. oxygen enters his lungs, exiting as he breathes out. a soft flicker of life. his thumb goes to wipe away the stray tear that trickles down your cheek, his touch delicate. and then comes his response.

”— because i need you the way i need air.”

and, really, it’s a sappy thing to say. a little pretentious. he’d feel embarrassed if it wasn’t for the soft flicker of the moon, the intimacy of the moment. he simply couldn’t bear not to tell you the truth — even if you end up bringing it up tomorrow, just to tease him. he can deal with a little embarrassment, every once in a while. just for you.

fortunately for him, no thoughts of teasing run through your mind. maybe if you were in a better headspace, a little less of a wreck, you could muster the will to make fun of him a little. who do you think you are, shakespeare? i knew i shouldn’t have lent you that copy of romeo and juliet. — something light and amused, just to distract him from the rapid beating of your heart. 

but right now…

all you can do is take a deep breath. and you think you understand what he means, when that breath of life courses through your lungs.

”i’ll never leave you behind,” he continues, words so very self-assured that it leaves you reeling. rubbing comforting circles into the skin of your palm, without thinking. muscle memory. ”can you trust me on that?”

connected to his gaze, you stumble for something to say. anything. 

but then he smiles, again. that familiar, familiar smile. as soothing as a mother’s caress. and only one single word makes it past your lips.

”… okay.”

you do trust him. more than anyone else in the world. so you take that leap, no matter how frightening it is —

and the world narrows down to just the two of you.

just you, and him, in this one single moment. illuminated by the light of the moon, lying side by side and looking into each other’s eyes, on a roof you always find yourselves at one way or another. laughing and sharing secrets until the sun begins to rise; a silent promise that needs no words. 

(the promise of tomorrow. a summer that never quite seems to end.)

suguru cups your cheek. his touch buzzes with warmth, trickling down his wrist and through his veins — and you melt into his palm, eyes fluttering shut instinctively. the sight makes the corners of his lips curl up, hopelessly.

leaning close, he plants a kiss on your cheek. delicate, tender; his lips against your skin, a silent whisper of i love you. fervent, full of devotion. of a love that’s as steady as the sea.

”i’ll always, always be by your side,” suguru repeats, like a mantra. hoping you’ll feel his conviction through the whisper. ”you’ll always have me to fall back on. i promise.”

a little smile breaks out across your lips, meek and teary. as fragile as a sheet of glass, but still persisting in the dead of night. your voice wavers, as you raise your pinkie, right in front of his stupidly pretty face.

”pinkie promise?”

it’s a childish gesture. something to lighten the mood a little, make it all easier to chew. you expect him to roll his eyes, or raise an eyebrow, or tease you a bit. but he doesn’t.

instead, suguru raises his own pinkie, and curls it around yours. then he smiles. sweet and boyish, painted over with a rosy, tender nostalgia.

”— pinkie promise.”

and you believe him.

you believe him, because suguru has a way of making you do so, even when he has no idea what the hell he’s talking about. with that confident tilt of his voice, that makes it sound like he has all the answers in the universe — that flicker of genuine faith, in every word that falls from his lips, that tells you he truly does believe in them.

you believe him, because suguru is the only person in the world who’s never once broken a promise he made to you. not a single time. and some part of you suspects that if he ever did, he really would be okay with you cutting his pinkie off. a little frightening, the depths of his devotion. the pure loyalty that courses through his veins.

so you believe him.

you believe him because he’s suguru. and, just like you can't exist without him, he can't exist without you. never one without the other.

on instinct, you inch a little closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing him extra tight. face hidden away in the crook of his neck, just like you used to do when you were kids. he’s bigger now, harder to properly embrace — but still so very, very warm. 

and he squeezes you back, just as tight. comforting and grounding, and so, so secure. tugging you closer, like he needs to have you near to properly breathe. like he needs to feel that you’re there to relax, melting into the hug with a soft sigh. relieved, that you’re still with him. relieved at the promise that you always will be. 

wherever you go, he’ll follow. to the roof of his home, to the seaside, to the ends of the earth. the same way every star in the sky orbits around the center of the galaxy, endlessly, before burning out into the night.

the smell of cedarwood and earl gray floods your senses, filling your lungs as you nuzzle into his neck. he’s warm, and soft, and your very best friend. 

you close your eyes. indulging in his body heat, every familiar sensation that’s been etched into your bones for as long as you can remember. and you can tell he’s doing the same — breathing you in, arms resting securely around your back, pressing his cheek against the top of your head.

and maybe it’s true, after all. maybe suguru really does need you, just as much as you need him.

and maybe that’s all you really need to know.

the moon rests in the sky. smiling down at you, unchanging. a living proof that some things really do stay the same. 

— you hug suguru tighter, and decide that his presence is proof enough. 

[awkward-walking-potato]

the way I wanted to squeal when I saw you wanting Gambit requests because I was just about to send one in lol <33 (Of course, feel free to ignore tho! I hope you have a lovely day. ♡ ) On that spooky prompt list: “That kind of scared me.” / “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” - what about walking home from a mission of sorts and reader, who usually isn't spooked by much, shows they're scared of thunder storms?

Through the storm

The mission had gone smoothly, but the walk back was anything but. Dark clouds had rolled in quickly, and before long, the sky rumbled with the deep growl of thunder. You usually weren’t one to be scared by much—being a part of the X-Men had hardened you to a lot of things—but there was something about storms that always unsettled you. It wasn’t something you talked about often, because it felt silly. Of all the things to be scared of, a little thunder and lightning shouldn’t be one of them.

But now, walking beside Remy, you felt that familiar knot of anxiety tighten in your chest as the storm loomed overhead. Your hands clenched and unclenched at your sides, trying to seem calm, but another crash of thunder roared across the sky, louder this time, and you jumped, heart hammering in your chest.

Remy noticed immediately. His red-on-black eyes darted toward you, brow furrowing in concern.

“Chérie,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the rumble of the storm. “You alright?”

You hesitated, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, it’s just... I didn’t expect the storm to hit so hard.”

But as if on cue, another bolt of lightning cracked the sky, followed by an ear-splitting clap of thunder that echoed around you. Your breath caught, and before you could stop yourself, you whispered, “That kind of scared me.”

You hated admitting it. You never wanted to seem weak, not in front of him. But the storm made you feel small, vulnerable, and exposed.

Remy slowed his pace, turning fully to face you. His expression softened instantly, and without hesitation, he stepped closer, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “Ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he murmured, his voice low and comforting. “Everyone’s scared of somethin’, non?”

You didn’t respond, just nodded, trying to steady your breathing. The thunder rumbled again in the distance, and you tensed, instinctively moving closer to him.

“Don’t worry,” Remy said, his arm slipping around your shoulders, pulling you in against his side. “I’ll protect you.”

His words were simple, but they carried weight. His warmth seeped into you, and despite the storm raging around you, you felt a little safer. Remy had always had that effect on you—he made the world feel just a little less dangerous, a little less overwhelming.

“C’mon,” he said softly, starting to lead you forward again, but this time he kept you close, his arm never leaving your shoulders. “We’ll get out of this storm soon enough.”

As you walked, he kept talking, his voice low and soothing. He told you stories—funny ones, little anecdotes from his time in New Orleans, things that made you laugh despite the tension in your chest. He didn’t rush you or make you feel silly for being afraid. He just stayed by your side, steady and unshakable.

Every time the thunder rolled, his arm would tighten around you, as if to remind you that he was there, that you weren’t alone. And even though the storm was still loud, still unnerving, it didn’t feel quite as scary with Remy beside you.

When you finally reached the mansion, soaked from the rain but safe inside, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You glanced up at him, feeling a mix of gratitude and something deeper.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “For... you know. Being there.”

Remy grinned, brushing a wet strand of hair from your face. “Ain’t gotta thank me for that, chérie. Told you, I’ll protect you, always. Thunderstorm or not.”

You smiled, feeling a little lighter, a little braver. Because no matter how scary the storm outside was, with Remy at your side, you knew you could face it.

[yanverse]

conrad my beloved 🥹 he’s not gonna win against the sheer force that is harley chicken man in the polls but he’s still number one in my heart <3

i think he’s been too uwu lonely russian boy from a small village in his tag lately from ur og blog so i wanna know what he’s like when he snaps hehe

like how would he hunt down and punish a darling who’s been affectionately biding her time to escape when he’s out hunting? cause idk if he’d be as scary as ilya but i would welcome it 👀

want scary conrad? i can give you scary conrad.....<3

hunted -- conrad dmitriev

(cws: DDDNE, yandere, stalking, kidnapping, violence against reader, blood, injuries, guns/knives, cutting/scarring, implied somno/noncon, manipulation, death mentions)

word count: 2k

Not even the pitch of the settling dark could mask the eyes that follow you between the trees. 

These woods aren't for the faint of heart. Those who live here were born here, survived here, and will inevitably die here. Considering there's only been one–at least in recent memory–who has escaped that curse, it's clear to anyone with sight that this harrowing corner of the world is meant for only two things; locals and wildlife. 

And trees, of course. Enough to cluster in scattered array, leaving only tiny clearings in between in which to get your bearings, though you can never really stop moving in this cold. The snow isn't so much a hindrance as it is a hurdle; glaringly obstructive in the way caution tape would be around a bloody car crash. It should be circumvented with great caution by those who don't wish despair upon their own selves, yet here you are in the thick of it. Cold, wet, and completely, utterly lost. 

Conrad warned you of these dangers, but you ignored him. Why would you possibly take the advice of someone who betrayed you? His whole story was made up of lies–why he was conveniently in the area the night you came across each other, what exactly he had to do with your car that seemingly sprouted an issue from nowhere, and who he even was altogether. Course, you could've been a touch more scrutinizing…you can't exactly imagine, at least not easily, that a man who lives almost entirely alone in an isolated forest of the country could live comfortably with his sanity still intact. He isn't just an ice fisher that sells his produce to the near-zero visitors of this confusing wasteland. Conrad is a killer. A killer for hire, no less. 

And right now, unbeknownst to you, you're his next target….well, unknowingly until your footsteps halt in the knee-deep snow for a breather, and the softest click sounds right at the base of your skull. You don't need to turn your head to see. Nobody else would make it this far without leaving footprints in this awful snow. 

“Malyshka.” That word bleeds into you with every syllable, puffed hotly over the skin of your ear from behind. It stirs up memories, good ones for once, of that loving nickname uttered in laughter and scorn and a teasing lilt as Conrad takes you by the hand and waltzes you through his living room. The tinny scratchiness of his cheap, portable radio gave the cabin a hum that still resonates in your veins, but you can't go back to that world even if you wanted to. That place will forever be tainted with the memories of Conrad's twisted fascination with you, permanently marred by deceit and thinly-veiled manipulation. 

It doesn't seem like that matters at all to your former lover, however. Because when Conrad grips your arm in that deathly squeeze, you get the sense immediately that he's betting on taking you back. He's going to walk you through the snow right back where you came from, and he's going to be so angry he won't sleep for days. That's what you think.

The butt of his rifle cracking you in the skull isn't what you expected, however. The crunch of bone under the varnished chunk of wood sickens you to the core of your soul, a warmth exploding out from your hair and splattering the ground as you immediately collapse forward. Your dead weight sinks you deep into the snow, but even then, and even in your dazed state, you feel it's much shallower here than before. Maybe that's why Conrad waited to corner you here–maybe it will be easier to pile the snow on top of your body when he kills you in his rage. 

Time slows to a tick all of a sudden. Conrad's boots crunching in the snow around you ripples a series of shivers through you, your warm body growing colder by the minute as he circles you like a hungry predator. Shiiing, click, thummp. The sound of his gun being slung over his shoulder catches your focus, and then the distinct slice through the sheath as Conrad pulls out his knife. You know the one. That thing is big. And sharp. You cut your hand on it once accidentally and he just about lost his mind with worry. Doesn't seem like he's all too concerned about that now, though.

Although his voice carries between the whispers and howls of the wind, you couldn't understand him if you tried. You've lost the privilege of Conrad speaking your language, evidently, because while he is addressing you not a word of it is in English. It's just another way to control you…another way to show you his love, if he were to spin it that way. 

A beat of silence passes without note. He's stopped moving. You can feel him, his body heat, hovering over you from above. The knife is probably just dangling in his hand, wondering if he should drop it or bring your life to an end with force, grant you some kind of small mercy as he takes you apart before finally slitting your throat like a hunted animal. Conrad stands waiting, watching you lie motionless and dizzy in the snow, and even once you feel him sink to his knees on top of you there's no strength in you to move. Blood pools at the base of your neck from the gash he's probably left in your head. I'm going to die. Your own voice ringing from within triggers you into a push, your fingernails digging into hard, packed snow as you try to lift yourself up–but even though he doesn't hit you a second time, Conrad isn't gentle as he grips your neck and shoves you back down. 

“Still.” He quietly mumbles amid the harsh breeze whistling past your ears. “Stay, malyshka.” 

Clearly, he wanted an answer. Your silence is more than enough of one however, and with a swing and an arc of the blade your lover is rrrrrrripping your clothes apart, knife cutting cleanly up the back of the too-thin flannel that you stole in lieu of a proper coat. Through the layers underneath he slices with practiced ease, catching patches of skin with the tip but not allowing the beads of blood to distract him from his task. Your eyes dart sideways to see his gloved fingers carving out a lump of snow from near your head, a few trickles of blood from your wound staining the purity of those white, soft haloes. He raises it quick and your arms tense at the feeling of that sting hitting your bare back–but it isn't the blade first, it's that clump of snow dragging down your flesh…the knife comes straight after that, piercing your aching skin as insult to injury, and his deep, sudden strokes that split you apart have you writhing and kicking out on the ground in agony. 

Pure, violent hatred spills out of you in those moments, your screams echoing off the trees with just the same tremor as the howling, squealing winds blowing through the mountains. Conrad only cares for your pain when it impedes his progress, his knee coming down harshly on your lower back to keep you from squirming away as he makes his cuts. He must be trying to dig your organs out, he's killing you, he's surely tracing out your most valuable spots with such aggressive stabs of unconscionable, burning, violent torment. Will he wait for you to die? Will he make sure before he leaves? Will he drag your corpse back home with him, frozen and stiff, or will he leave you for the wolves and bears and god knows what else out in these woods? 

As your blood drains into the snow, those thoughts become less and less urgent. As your willpower fades into numbness, the cold pressing into your back grows from a sting into a shaking, fragile numbness that spreads outward. You must be dying now, you can only imagine that your body will give out at any moment if Conrad doesn't stop. It hasn't even occurred to you yet that he has stopped, not until you catch a peripheral glimpse of his black-cloaked hand cleaning the blade in the snow. It's your blood that trickles down the handle…and there's so much of it you're on the verge of losing all hope. There's only the tiniest, faintest glimmer left, and it's fading just as fast as your consciousness. 

“...Look how pretty you are now, malyshka.” 

Those words will haunt you into death, you're most certain. They're the last ones to linger in your ears as the whiteness grows dark, and your eyes flutter closed while the sound of a drip, drip, drip echoes your dreamless sleep…

Drip, drip, drip. 

You'd know the sound anywhere. It's easier to listen to without that wind howling in your ears, but it's going to be harder to locate. This time, when your eyes open within the warmth of a closed-in room, gratitude isn't the first thing you feel for surviving another night in this dense nightmare. 

It's pain. Hot, unbearable, searing pain, violating you in senses inconceivable as it crawls in waves down your back; violent, stiffening, and like a hot iron being pressed up and down and up and down on constant repeat. The warm air of the cabin isn't helping at all as it hits your marked flesh, it's only drawing further attention towards the dripping of something warm down your legs, but at the very least you can tell by the pillow you've drooled on that you're not laying on the open wounds. No, you've been left exposed, with the ache in your hips something you hadn't noticed before, and the weight that's shifted the bed alerts you that someone is tending them for you…and he's singing. Gently. Some lullaby in his native tongue, no doubt, as his hands move quietly and carefully up and down the flesh he ruined. 

“Pretty thing.” You can just barely catch a glimpse of him looming from behind, the din of the cabin shadowing the expression on his pale face. Conrad's muttering puts you off at once, but there's nothing you can do about it now. He meant to kill you, but he changed his mind. He took you back to the cabin to rest, and…make up for lost time, if the stickiness of your thighs is any indication. Maybe that mind will be changed again…and you can only hope it does, because whatever he carved into your back, it can't be out of love. No matter how much he's going to try to convince you it is. “You are hurt, love. You want whiskey?” 

What hurts more is that you can feel the smirk in his tone. He's having a laugh at you. You tried to run but I caught you. I'll always catch you. You can never hide from me. That's what he's probably thinking. 

“No…” Somehow, from some deep well of power within you, your voice forms in a trembling resistance to his strength. Conrad's hands covered in balm and fibres of gauze he's tying round you pause, if just for a moment, and in the relative silence with those drip, drip, drips in the background you find the rest of your voice. 

“...I want you dead.”

How laughable. Conrad doesn't laugh, he merely tuts at you–a disapproving parent scolding a young scoundrel. If you weren't so appallingly special to him, he might punish that rejection of his help with a slap or an elbow right into those throbbing wounds that spell out his name. Instead, he dips his head low, and lets his deep, rough whisper creep into your ear and make a home in the deepest pits of fear that reside in your pretty little head.

“Then you just try to kill me, malyshka.” 

[roguelov]

Crimson Stained Petals (Ch. 2)

Summary: Set in the 1880s, rumors and mysteries swirled around a quaint town, mostly about a lord tucked far into the woods. Arriving in town, you could not deny your curiosities, but you were not here to stay. Or so you thought. Low on funds, and a job for a live-in servant advertised in the paper, you now found yourself in the home of Lord Morpheus - the source of all rumors. Passions and tensions will grow. Questions will be answered, but may come at a hefty price. And a promise may be broken. But, is Lord Morpheus, and those few residents, truly as scary as they seem?

Words Count: ~3.4k

Reader: Neutral (unspecified now, however fem leaning)

Warnings: Minor angst (hints of Morpheus’s past), mutual pinning, some fluff, hints of bloodlust

Chapter 1, Chapter 3

After a week of working in the manor, you quickly found routine in your new life. It was far easier than anticipated, although somewhat tiring at points. And despite exploring the manor, you still tended to become lost or forgetful where certain rooms were. It was massive to say the least, but you adored the architecture, the different colors and styles of each room, and the obvious love - even if slightly dusty due to negligence - poured into it. Two rooms in particular captured your interest and attention: the upstairs library, and the sunroom.

The sunroom was magical. The glass - a soft sea green - dome roof sparkled in any and all lighting. On sunny days, it was as if the heavens rained down on this secret cove. Plants of all colors and variety outlined the room from vibrant dark green ferns - nearly an envious green - to signature staple of the manor’s passionate red roses as well as strong and proud sunflowers, delicate lilacs, and the intricate petals of the blushing pink carnations. Fern leaves as large as dinner plates bent towards the doorways like curtains. You could not help but imagine you were an explorer traversing the jungle as you entered.

In the center, a couch, two chairs, and a table were set out. However, there was a very obvious empty space for furniture to be pushed aside. The true beauty of the room was it could double as a ballroom if needed. You could see where a musician could sit, you could imagine a dozen people dancing in unison, you could feel the air crackle with potential energy. When you walked the pristine tile floor sang with every step of your shoe, heels clacked and echoed like a chorus; imagining a group of people in here, and oh how the room would harmonize.

The library, on the other hand, was quaint and far less grandiose compared to the sunroom. Yet, it held its own type of magic, one of comfort and warmth. It was draped in rich dark browns, glowing oranges of the sun and lanterns, and overall warm tones. The walls had built-in shelves and overflowed with books. A single thin window with a nook to sit and read by sunlight was nestled between two shelves. Two long wooden tables with chairs were placed in the room, almost more of studying than reading comfortably.

The air in the library was calmer, and gentle like an escape, or a brief pause on life. If you strolled over to the collection of books, most were published from Morpheus’s company ‘The Dreamer’s Palace’. Which wasn’t too surprising, but the library held many other books from the popular to the unknown. Every genre filled the shelves: drama, contemporary, romance, horror, fantasy, mystery, nonfiction, mythology, and poetry. You had worlds at your fingertips and each of them called to you.

When you had time, you would eventually borrow a book, with Morpheus’s permission of course. Maybe you could take the book and lounge in the sunroom, now that sounded like a lovely idea.

However, you supposed there was another place besides the sunroom and library to entertain you and your thoughts. You desperately wished to explore the ground, especially the maze. The rose maze enthralled you. The hedges must be ten feet tall, barring all from sneaking a single glance in. The full, perfect lush red roses filled the hedges and dazzled in the sunlight while somehow seemingly glowed in the moonlight. With the moon above, they tempted you like some Greek tragedy. The maze was your labyrinth. Maybe a monster lurked among the roses, maybe you would become lost and lose your sense of self, or maybe it was simply just a maze.

One day.

One day, you would run freely through the hedges and happily lose yourself amongst them.

Late in the morning, Morpheus had requested some tea. If it wasn’t in the morning after what you expected a long night, then he requested afternoon tea for one last boost to finish the day. Light seemed to always shine under the crack of his door. His footsteps creaked along the home constantly even as you laid still in bed.

Maneuvering up the stairs, you carefully balanced a kettle and a tea cup with a saucer. Stepping onto the second floor, you immediately veered left. Morpheus’s study was the first door. You knocked, announcing yourself. His reply was muffled, but allowed you in.

Opening the door, Morpheus was hunched over his desk. Stacks of paper covered his desk, with his pen scratching away editing and making revision notes on a new manuscript. A dying fire crackled as embers burned a reddish orange hue casting the room in a radiating warmth. The curtains were opened showing off the dreary morning. Rain tapped against the window, adding to the ambiance.

You beelined for Morpheus. You efficiently, as possible, set up his tea in the small corner space free of papers. Morpheus - who had been watching not just since you walked in, but since you first arrived - wondered about something that had been bothering him for a few days. The scratching of his pen seized, and he glanced out of the corner of his eye. “May I ask you a question?”

You paused as you set up his tea. It was one of the few other times he addressed you, besides your first interaction and occasionally calling for tea. Shaking yourself out of your stupor, you poured his tea. “Of course, sir.”

He laid down his pen, and turned his head to address you. His eyes - an enchanting pale blue in such dim lighting - locked with yours. “You are not afraid of me.”

You stepped back from him, having finished your assigned task. The kettle left besides his cup if he wished to have more later. You folded your hands in front of you with the empty tray in your hands. His sentence tossed over and over in your head. You frowned slightly in thought, “That is not a question.”

The corner of his lips twitched upward. “You are correct, apologies. I suppose I was more inquiring about your opinion.”

“On what?”

“Myself, and said rumors that circulate the manor.”

You didn’t need time to think. Most people warned you of this place whether directly or indirectly. “The townspeople have their beliefs and I have mine.”

“So you have no care for the matter?”

“I can form my own opinions.” You cocked your head quizzically, “I’m sorry, but did Lucienne not inform you of my answer? She asked a similar question during the interview.”

“She did, but I wish to hear it from you especially given you have been staying with us for more than over a week now.” He twisted his body in his chair, facing you directly. He gave you his full undivided attention. “So what are your opinions? What do you think of the rumors?”

You paused, considering his question. “Do you want my honest opinion, sir?”

You had your opinions. Ones that had been slowly formulating since your arrival, ones that may be an unpleasant truth to hear.

“I do.” He saw the hesitation written plainly on your face. “You can be blunt.”

You nodded, and sighed releasing any tension. “If you wish -“ you cleared your throat - “the way I see it you revel in said rumors. You can easily dispel them by ingraining yourself more into society, but you don’t. You do the donations, you have the well liked bookshop, but you do not show your face. Either you isolate yourself to protect yourself, or because you believe you deserve it - deserve the isolation.”

Morpheus hummed, utterly fascinated by your answer. “Truly? And what do you think? Why would I sever my connection to society?”

Your eyes dragged up and down over his body - you were dissecting him. Morpheus noted how a change came over you. You were not a servant, head bowed, but an equal with a sharp eye. You were clever, far more clever than you let on. A mask had momentarily slipped. “Because you deserve it or so you believe.”

He nodded. You may have indulged a mere facet of his curiosity, but somehow stirred more within this one conversation. He turned back to his work, “Thank you for indulging me.”

“Is there anything else you need, sir?” You smiled, and your tone suggested a hint of teasing, “Any other of my opinions you wish to know?”

His smile was hidden from you. “No, thank you.”

“Of course.” You bowed and swiftly left.

“And do not feel frightened to share your honesty.” He spoke the next sentence softly, whispering, “I enjoy it.”

You paused at the door. A faint flutter hummed in your chest. “If you wish, sir.”

I do, he thought.

You turned your head, glancing back once more. He had returned to his work. Your mind thought back on the conversation, on Morpheus’s self imposed isolation. You opened your mouth, only to quickly close it and simply left. As the door softly clicked shut, Morpheus put his head into his hands.

A mortal.

A foolish mortal who had unknowingly walked into the lion’s den. His thirst rose when you walked by, and the smell of you now imbued his home. Before he remembered a time when his thirst could be quelled for months at a time, unbothered or unaffected by hunger. But now as you freely roamed his halls, he could barely go a few days without feeling its intense and paralyzing effects. The taste of human blood has not touched his lips in nearly a century.

Idiot, he thought. Why did I allow this?

“I believe it would do you some good sir,” Lucienne pressed. She had approached her lord, proposing to introduce a servant, more so a cleaning servant, into the manor. Or more accurately cornered him in his study.

Morpheus huffed under his breath. “Lucienne, I respect you and your opinions, however, this is ridiculous and out of the question.”

“Lord Morpheus, you need to try more or dare we have another fiasco such as the last manor.”

Ah, yes, how could he forget.

He had gotten complacent in his solitude. He kept to himself, and worked on new stories that continued to be sent in from all over. He only cared about his work, and nothing else.

No. That was incorrect.

No, he was purposely drowning himself in it; all to forget the painful heartache. No, he had not gotten complacent in solitude, he had gotten complacent in his endless grief. Let the people gossip, he bitterly thought. Let them believe in the monster. He did not care for his world were these dingy walls with the ghost roaming amongst them.

But, a strange man who lived on the outskirts of town stirred vile imaginations. After a decade and possibly longer of living - in what Morpheus ignorantly believed to be peace - the townspeople charged one night forcing everyone to flee.

He had to rebuild.

He had to remake himself in this new town. He had hoped his donations would soothe the townspeople, but mortals were weary of newcomers and indulged in their superstitions far too often.

Even if their intuitions were right most of the time.

A tap on the window broke Morpheus out of his thoughts, his memories. Through the haze of the night, a small black mass was perched on the window sill. Morpheus wordlessly strolled over and opened the window. A bird, a raven specifically, swooped in and landed on the desk.

“And what do I owe the pleasure, Matthew?” Morpheus asked, facing the raven.

The raven shuffled, his talons clacked against the wood. “Sorry to interrupt, boss, but Merv is asking for something for the pain again. He says his supply is almost out.”

Morpheus’s features softened, a miniscule change. “Okay, tell Merv I will send for more immediately.”

Matthew nodded, but he did not move.

“Is there something else you need?” Morpheus asked, raising his eyebrow.

Matthew sighed, sinking a bit. “I may or may not have been listening to yours and Lucienne’s conversation.”

Morpheus’s lips thinned, not angered Matthew was listening - it was nothing new - but because he knew Matthew would side with Lucienne. “And what do you think of the matter then?”

“Well,” he drawled out, “I have been visiting the town a bit, and some of the people have begun to talk and they’re not too … happy.”

Morpheus barely contained his eye roll. “I have done all I can to appease them, if they want to make speculations then let them. I don’t harm them in any capacity.”

It was true. His diet these days consisted solely of animals.

“Maybe an appearance at the bookshop then,” Lucienne suggested. “But, I still urge you to hire someone. If others see someone unharmed in your care then it would lessen the problem.”

“I will not bring a stranger into my home just so mortals can stop gossiping.”

“If not for you then for us, for the manor. We already had to run once.”

Morpheus frowned.

Lucienne cautiously stepped forward. “You opened your door to me - for Mervyn, and Matthew - you brought in a stranger once before.”

“That was different. This will be a mortal, Lucienne.”

“And do you not trust yourself, or do you not want a repeat?”

Morpheus’s shoulders tensed. An intense, chilling, glare settled into his eyes. His eyes glowed ominously like a feral animal. “Lucienne, I will ask you once to not bring that up again.”

Lucienne stepped back, but did not look away. She held her ground in a way. “Apologies, sir, but I do not want to find a new place so soon.”

Matthew chirped up, disliking the heavy tension in the room. He flapped his wings to turn all the attention onto him. “And it would be nice for you, boss. The manor has been gathering dust, so it would be good for all of us, right?”

Morpheus closed his eyes then exhaled slowly. Opening his eyes, they had returned to a normal shade. “Fine.”

“What?” Matthew muttered, stunned.

“Bring someone in, do what you must.” He turned his back. “If we can survive another decade here peacefully then do so. I don’t want to start again so quickly.”

“Of course, sir, thank you.” Lucienne bowed her head and left as Matthew swooped after her.

Look at all the good it has done, Morpheus thought.

Morpheus was confined to these walls with you lurking around. You were haunting him, and you reminded him of -

He shook away those memories. He had a new ghost in his home and he had to deal with this unfortunate reality. This wasn’t about him, this was about Lucienne, Matthew, and Mervyn. They were lucky last time to escape before the home burned, but luck always ran out. If people discovered the truth, if they came in the night unheard, he couldn’t forgive himself for anything that would happen to his friends - his family.

This was his family unlike the one born from blood.

Meanwhile as you strolled away from Morpheus’s study, your thoughts were tangled together. He was odd. Polite, yes. But, odd. He created a wedge between him and most; a wedge you clearly saw. In the short time you were living here, it was becoming obvious who Lord Morpheus was: a tortured soul. But, why? What drove him to this state? If you were to continue to live here, you would find out.

Curiosity was powerful, and you had your reasonings to do so.

Taking the tray to the kitchen, you once again passed by another oddity in the manor: the plain wooden door under the stairs. Earlier in your adventures of the manor, you tried to open it to no avail.

“I wouldn’t keep trying if I were you.” You whirled around - panicked you had been caught - and thankfully only saw Lucienne. She smiled, a joking smile, at your reaction. Her eyes darted to the lock door. “It leads to the basement where the plumbing goes.”

You frowned, disappointed.

“Sorry, I know it’s not as wondrous as you might think.” She strolled forwards, eyes kept on the door. “But I assure you, it’s not pleasant down there. It’s damp and dark with old pipes.”

Her eyes flickered over, locking with yours. She peered over her glasses to ensure she looked at you directly. ‘Don’t’ was all her eyes said.

“I suppose the wonders of plumping is something I’m not too keen about,” you chuckled lightly.

Her smile softened, and laughed along with you. “No, I don’t think most are. Now, if you excuse me, I was going to get a drink.”

She skirted by you towards the kitchen. Once, she was down the hall and out of sight, your eyes swiveled back to the door. Only one thought ran through your mind: she’s lying. You pressed your hand to the door. In your chest, deep within your bones, something hummed on the other side.

Stepping back, you searched and no one was around. If not today, but one day you will see what was behind that door. A voice told you to be cautious in your curiosity, but to also not let it die out. Trust your gut. And your gut needed the door to be opened to reveal all its secrets.

You paused, running your hand over the grain of the wood. The hum still called out. Similar to how you swore to uncover the secrets of a Morpheus, this door fell under it as well. This manor reeked of secrets and lies. It did not frightened you, not in the least. It compelled you. And the rumors only spurred your thirst for knowledge.

But, today was not the day. All of this required a touch of patience.

A skill you honed over the years.

Brushing past, you made your way into the kitchen dropping off the tray. Glancing out the window, the late rainy morning reminded you of all the hours you still had left in the day. You sighed.

Now, what should I do?

The rest of the day you decided to busy yourself with cleaning the kitchen. Most of the appliances were new, and strangely did not seem to be used as frequently since some dust had collected on them, much like the rest of the manor. You scrubbed the cabinets and the floor, cleaned dishes and silverware, and threw away any rotted food - which was surpassingly little. The kitchen nearly sparkled by the end of your work, and luckily the day had passed between all of it.

You retired for the night and drew a well deserved and needed bath. You soaked for almost an hour, letting your skin prune and your thoughts wander: thoughts of the manor, thoughts of Lucienne, thoughts of the mysterious gardener, thoughts of Morpheus, and thoughts of your past and life now.

You sighed, sinking into the water until it barely touched your nose.

Here was a new start with new promises while the past still loomed heavily over your shoulders. No, you truly couldn’t start anew until the past was settled. You knew this, and you were constantly reminded of it.

With the water now cold, you decided to get out. You dried off and pulled on your night clothes. Shuffling out of the bathroom, you passed the writing desk.

You paused.

Changing direction from your cozy bed, you veered to the desk. You needed to write a letter, one you had forgotten - and may have purposely neglected - to write. You plopped down into the creaky wooden chair and began to write a letter. Amongst your initial search of the desk, you were surprised, and thankful, to find paper and ink already inside the drawer.

You had an old promise to keep.

You pulled out a paper and addressed it to your uncle. An uncle who raised you and taught you many things. An uncle who you spoke exclusively in letters since leaving his home nearly over a decade ago. You loved him dearly, and hoped maybe one day after your journey of self discovery, and possibly after truly settling down, you would visit him again.

Under a candlelight, you wrote about the past week. You spoke of your new job, your new lord, and the others who lived here - even if you spoke only to one. You spoke how this job could be the one, the one to change your life. You told him he was still always in your thoughts, and wondered how he was doing since his new retired life per his last letter. You smiled down at the letter, and signed it. You neatly folded it, and tucked it into an envelope to send at the earliest convenience.

Maybe Lucienne could take it to the post office for you, or maybe you’ll make a visit into town.

The decision will come later, for now you need to sleep.

[baalzebufo]

guard dog

3am drabble about majima and haruka. very short, very sweet. wanted to get this down somewhere because ive been thinking about this scene all day.

---

The voice is so soft he doesn't hear it the first time. He's too occupied with scrolling, the light from his phone the only illumination in the room, brain locked in that tired haze where sleep escapes you but you have no energy to do anything more. It's only when he hears the sniffle that he picks up on the presence lingering in the doorway.

‘Haru-chan?’ Majima squints, tilting the harsh blue of the phone screen away from his eye. He props himself up on his elbows. ‘That you?’

‘Oji-san…’

Oh no. Her voice quivers and immediately, Majima knows something is wrong. He sits upright, glad that the darkness hides his worry. Fuck- Kiryu wouldn't be home until tomorrow. He was good enough at babysitting Haruka when he had to, but this was new- what was he supposed to do now?

‘Hey, hey- Haru-chan…’ He mumbles, sitting up. ‘Whassup? What's wrong?’

Tiny feet pad against the hardwood floor and he feels the bed creak- then all at once, she's on top of him. Little arms wrap around his chest and he hears the muffled sob and-

Oh, shit. Majima’s hugging her, now. Pulls her close to his chest and holds her tight. She's crying.

‘Hey… s'alright. It's gonna be okay.’ He says, words uncertain. ‘Did ya… have a nightmare?’

She nods against him, grip tightening.

‘Okay… okay, I get it. Shh, c'mere-’ He leans back and pulls her next to him to lie down more comfortably, tugs the blanket back over himself and nestles her in. Okay, no need to panic- just comfort her. It can't be that hard- fuck, he wishes Kiryu was here.

‘Do ya’ wanna talk about it?’ He ventures. She shakes her head, burying it further into his collarbone. Her voice wavers up from beside him.

‘I want Uncle Kaz…'

Oh.

‘Yeah- yeah. You too, huh? Shh- s'okay.’

He rests his chin atop her head, shutting his eye. It must be even worse for her, he thought. She'd been through so much, and at such a young age… Kiryu must have been her entire world. To wake up, scared and alone, without the one person you knew could protect you…

Majima hugged her tighter.

‘S'okay. He'll be back tomorrow. But until then, I gotcha. I gotcha…’ He sniffed, the warmth against his chest making him feel… something. Something he hadn't felt in a long time.

‘I'd never let anythin’ happen to ya. Okay? I'll scare off all the bad dreams.’ He hushed her again, felt her shaking slow down and sniffles quiet. ‘No monsters or ghouls or nothin’ is gonna getcha when I'm around. They gotta get through me first.’

She hiccuped, a noise that might have been a tearful laugh.

‘Yeah. Yeah.’ He whispered. ‘Y'know, uh- th’ tattoo I got. The scary lady, right?’

There was a pause. Then, in the quietest voice-

‘I don’ think she's scary…’

Majima smiled.

‘Yeah, you don't, cause you're braver than anyone. But monsters, they're all real scared of her. She helps keep ‘em away. Even when I'm asleep.’ He whispered, almost conspiratorially- like he was sharing a big secret.

‘See… she's nice…’ Haruka mumbled, and Majima nodded in agreement.

‘Yeah, exactly. Means you can sleep here an’ you'll be safe and sound. I promise.’

He shuffled, arms hooked around the girl clinging to his chest as she released him to get more comfortable. He could, in the light of his phone screen still laying upright on the bed, faintly see her eyes. Still glistening with tears, but looking at him. Looking at him, like…

Like how she looks at Kiryu, he thought.

‘Thanks, Oji-san…’

Her voice was thick with sleep- must have been tuckered out from the crying, he thought. She buried her face back into his arm, nestled up next to him. Something soft and warm felt like it had crawled into his chest.

‘No prob, Haru-chan.’ He chanced it, and leant down to give her a kiss on the forehead. Felt the way, even in the darkness, her face creased with a smile.

‘Sleep tight, kid.’

--

When Kiryu crept in the house early the next morning, the sight of Haruka's empty bed made his heart jump into his throat.

Only after he peered into his bedroom did he see the familiar sprawl of Majima, coiled protectively around his soundly sleeping daughter. One of her hands was resting on his head, fingers tangled in his hair.

As he turned away to prepare the kitchen for breakfast, Kiryu was glad they weren't awake to see the smile on his face and the tear that snuck down his cheek.

[girlandthedarkness]

TOUCH | Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru

hurt/comfort

The weather outside was cold and windy, making Suguru almost run into his apartment. Closing the door to block the chilly air entering into his house, he notice Satoru's jacket. It only meant that he come back faster than anticipated from a rather dangerous mission and it can mean two things. It was a wonderful success or a total failure.

"SATORU?" The flat was silent and suguru just takes of his shoes quickly.

"SATORU, ARE YOU HOME?" Suguru tried to ignore the anxious feeling in his chest "I SWEAR TO ANYTHING SAINT, IF YOU EATING MY SNACKS I'M KILLING YOU"

Perhaps he's sleeping? The thought shattered when Suguru saw Satoru sitting cross-legged on the floor, his back facing him. He was silent, but everything screams something wrong.

"Satoru" this time it was a gentle calling, as if he wanted to return him back on earth.

Walking closer, Suguru rises his hand to make him pay attention, but instead of a warm feeling of his skin, he touched nothing. More exactly what he touched was Satoru's infinity.

"I don't deserve your touch right now" Satoru's voice was meek, so unlike him.

Gojo Satoru doesn't weep when he's sad. He usually complains loud about something irrelevant to escape the anxiety's tension in his chest.

Then he makes a few dark humor jokes and then he solves problems on his own. If he fails to do it, it'll be only him who'll suffer.

Satoru Gojo never shows weakness, perhaps only when it's midnight and he tells Suguru about his childhood and how lonely it was. That despite having people around him, no emotional connection was made. About how their friendship was something he cherish more than the life itself.

So Gojo Satoru showing weakness on the broad daylight is something scary.

"What do you mean?" Suguru isn't a person to pray on others emotions, but Satoru wants to be saved, otherwise he wouldn't come to his apartment.

"I messed up, how can I have those godlike powers and still have people die on me?"

Oh, Suguru thinks, Gojo Satoru as an Atlant carries the burden of the world on his shoulder.

"Let me touch you" Suguru mirrors his friend's position, trying to catch his eyes, moving even more forward to do so.

"No, I don't deserve your kindness or your affection"

"I'll be the judge of that"

Finally Satoru looks at Suguru with big red eyes. His cerulean blue where so shiny from tears, despite the distress appearance Satoru Gojo was still as breathtaking as always. His white hair messy, but still framing beautiful his face, his face was red and puffy, but the vulnerability was alluring.

The barrier dissappear, letting out a slight warmth from Satoru's skin. Without wasting any time Suguru takes his body in his arms, cradling him closer to his chest. He pats Satoru's back and whispers sweet nothings, promises to keep it a secret if he'll cry.

Gojo Satoru doesn't cry, not in front of people, not even in front of Suguru Geto, but today is an exception. It was a long week and Suguru is so real, so warm, so sweet. Satoru hides his face into his friend's neck, letting it all out, he cries for the young girl who had bright green eyes and for the old man who shield unsuccessful her little body. Gojo Satoru cries for the shoked mother who lost her father and daughter all because of him. Gojo Satoru doesn't cry for himself, he doesn't deserves it.

He tries to sink deeper into Suguru's skin, to try and become one with him. Unsuccessfully.

Everything in Satoru screams that he doesn't deserve to feel that good, but the influence that Suguru Geto has on his nerve system is a secret he'll take to the grave. Perhaps that's why he always seeks him in his darkest moments, and always look at him first when he laughs.

[astaldis]

Comfortember Masterpost

Hi, thank you so very much for this fun event and the inspiring prompts ❤️❤️❤️

Here's my comfortember master list, all the fics are for The Witcher:

The Present

Prompts: 1 Safe, 3 Leaves Changing, 4 Warmth, 18 Cuddles, alt. 3 Travel, alt. 4 Candles, alt. 5 Colours

Summary: It is the evening of the last day of October, Samhain, a magical night where the gates between worlds are wide open for those who can travel through space and time. Ciri can, and she has a surprise for her boyfriend Cahir, a very nice surprise. (Words: 1,656 / Fluff & Mild Smut)

A Night Among Elves

Prompts: 2 Sweater Weather, 4 Warmth, 5 Treehouse, 25 Rain, 26 Friends, 29 Sleepover, alt. 2 Baths

Summary: Unexpectedly, Cahir and Gallatin run into each other during a raid. The weather is shitty and Cahir is cold. Fortunately, Gallatin has a remedy. (Words: 6,208 / Hurt-Comfort)

Shadows in the Dark

Prompts: 7 Sick / Illness, 13 Baking, 27 Soup (Chapter 5)

Summary: The shadow. There it is again. Fuck! You thought you had lost it after running from the accursed property as fast as your legs could carry you. Now your lungs are burning and your heart is pounding in your ears like it is going to explode any second. You are so exhausted, you are ready to drop on the spot. But you cannot stop running or it will catch up with you. The nameless, shapeless horror. This eery black thing that has been stalking you all the way from the old, abandoned mansion. How you wish the night was already over, that the first rays of morning sunlight would make the shadow disappear, but it is not long past midnight yet. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Will you still be alive by the end of the night, or is the shadow going to get you? Will you die here, just because of this stupid, stupid bet?

Fortunately somebody arrives just in time to save your arse from the shadows stalking you. A Witcher, exactly who you need. (Words: 10,410 / Hurt-Comfort, Witcher Cahir)

Who'll save you when you fall?

Prompts: 1 Safe, 4 Warmth, 9 Aftermath, 22 Cry, 25 Rain, 27 Soup (Chapter 3)

Summary: It is the reign of the Usurper and today justice is to be served. A hanging. Only, things do not go as smoothly as they are supposed to go. Or: Emhyr meets young Cahir for the very first time. (Words: 6,625 / Hurt-Comfort)

Stranded

Prompts: 1 Safe, 4 Warmth, 18 Cuddles, 23 Anxiety, 26 Friends, alt. 3 Travel

Summary: On their way from Toussaint to Stygga the Hansa get separated from each other in a natural disaster. Regis, Geralt and Angoulême find themselves stranded on a little island while Milva and Cahir are missing. (Words: 1,630 / Hurt-Comfort)

I will bring you ruin

Prompts: 7 Sick / Illness, 23 Anxiety, 26 Friends (Chapter 2)

Summary: At Kaer Morhen, Cahir tells Ciri something that makes her scream ... (Words: 6,048 / Hurt-Comfort)

Scary is the night (and full of honey cakes and kittens)

Prompts: 1 Safe, 4 Warmth, 12 Dreams, 24 Blankets, 26 Friends

Summary: "Kiss me!" she orders, her emerald green eyes gleaming with lust. However, it is not lust of the kind you would expect when you are told to kiss the girl - no, the princess. It is blood-lust her eyes are shimmering with ... (Words: 1,111 / Emotional Hurt-Comfort)

A Sunday in Beauclair

Prompt: 20 Shopping

Summary: Geralt hates shopping. But Fringilla has a surprise for him. (Words: 555 / Mild Smut)

Enchanted Lake, Enchanted Dream

Prompts: 12 Dreams, Alt. 2 Baths 

Summary: For once Cahir is not haunted by Ciri in a nightmare. This dream is very different ... (Words: 700 / Mild Smut)

Saving Each Other

Prompts: 8 Grief/Mourning, 10 Sadness

Summary: Milva is sad. Cahir helps her forget. (Words: 200 / Mild Smut)

Not A Selfless Present

Prompts: 15 Plushies, 17 Heirloom

Summary: Regis has a very special present for Angoulême. It is not a totally selfless one, though. (Words: 350 / Friendship)

Sometimes I fall to pieces

Prompts: 16 Tea Break, 18 Cuddles, 21 Relapse, 28 Flashbacks, alt.1 Books

Summary: Cahir has a bad flashback and Yennefer has to pick up the pieces. Luckily, she knows how to. (Words: 1,000 / Emotional Hurt-Comfort)

[valdisrp]

Site Lore Preview

Cicadas. Cicadas and the sound of rustling leaves are all that is heard on a night like this. That is, on a night outside of tribe territory. On this particular night, an elder tends to the tribe’s young, doing her best to settle them with a story. "But grandma, these stories are all boring. No one wants to hear another story about a caribou hunt or a border standoff. Give us something interesting!" "Something scary!" an older pup chimed in. The elder shifted her eyes to the several pups nestled in a pile before her, particularly eyeing one of the youngest before letting out a short sigh. "Oh, all right. But if your mothers ask, this is a cautionary tale," she began, her voice gravelly from age and weak from years of storytelling. "Valdis." The word she spoke was quiet, yet it made a thud on the hard dirt beneath their paws and echoed around their den. A spine-tingling chill crept upon the older pups. "You've all heard that name before, haven't you? In hushed whispers, paired with cautious glances." The pups huddled closer together, some nodding while others looked confused. But even those who didn't know felt the fear in the air. "Valdis is... a shadow, of a forgotten age, young ones. She's a whispered echo of a time long gone, a time before you, or I, or even my grandmother. But she's still here, lingering. You may find her in shadows cast upon the den walls, or in the dark reflections of our rivers. You can hear her on the wind and feel her in the breeze, even if you aren't aware of it. "The reason you aren't allowed to stray off alone into these wilds, dear pups, is Valdis. It's her influence. It's her curse that haunts us even now—" And yet, before the elder could finish her sentence, a small yelp came from the soft pile of pups. "A curse?" one fearfully whispered. Another stood tall, stepping forward. "My mom mentioned the curse to me. The light keeps us safe, doesn't it?" "Yes, child. However, do not allow the light to give you a false sense of safety. We don't know the origins of this curse, nor how it works exactly. A wise pup would be cautious at all times and stick closely to his family's side." She let out a sigh, already regretting having scared the brood. "We still need an ending," called a small voice, coming from the youngest pup herself. The elder's eyes met hers for a long moment, studying the young face that still held a spark of curiosity despite the fear that had crept into the den. She took a deep breath, her mind racing to find the right words that would both satisfy the pups' thirst for a conclusion and instill the necessary caution. "In times when the darkest corners of our world grow darker," she began, her voice softer yet more intense, "and the light grows dimmer, we must stay vigilant. A touch is all it takes to bring death and despair upon our kind. Valdis is not just a story to scare you; she is a reminder of the dangers that lurk in the shadows. If we are to stand against such a threat, we must do so together, united and watchful. Remember, dear pups, courage is not the absence of fear, but the strength to face it with your family by your side." The den fell silent as the pups absorbed the elder's words, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and apprehension. The elder smiled gently, her heart warming at their attentive faces. "And that, little ones, is the end of the story for tonight. Stay close, stay safe, and never forget the power of our bond." With that, she gently nudged them closer, offering warmth and comfort as the cicadas continued their song outside, a testament to the enduring rhythms of life in the wild." Valdis, JCINK Canine/Feline RP coming soon Join the discord now: https://discord.gg/vxXe3SbCGG

[hannahsmusings]

Jackson

*Jackson didn’t recognize this person, he didn’t know who he was anymore, you had come into his life and literally turned it on it’s head, upending everything that he knew to be true and he found himself trusting you, trusting you with his stupid little fantasies for the future that he had buried so deep that he was surprised he even remembered them himself, telling you about his childhood which was a topic he never spoke about since it brought up so many demons and traumas for him, even the ‘good’ memories were tainted, but you made him feel safe to talk about them, feeling like you would make them less scary somehow* *he found himself comfortable to just sit quietly with you and admire you, that being something he had never done, this amount of intense intimacy was something he never thought he’d achieve, but this was what a relationship should be like; not that he had any blueprint for what a healthy relationship was, his parents were devoid of any love for one another or for him, and he didn’t have any siblings to look up to, but this is what he assumed Bonnie had with her husband when he was alive, this level of comfort and safety and trust, where he could just admire you openly without fear of judgment, and fuck, it felt so fucking good* *Jackson glanced over at the fire that was dying down now, staring at the embers, remembering that night when you were trapped here during the snow storm, smiling a bit to himself* Do you remember when we— *he glances over at you, his words dying on his tongue as he sees that you were completely asleep, your chest rising slowly and you looked so peaceful, and god damn it, Jackson was a fucking goner, there was no hope for him now, he was fucking mad for you and this was the final nail in his coffin* *his smile widens as he continues to look at you, remembering how it felt to wake up next to you on the floor that night, and he was realizing that this sight was something he wanted to wake up to every day for the rest of his life* *he slowly gets up from the couch, letting the blanket slip from your body just a bit when the couch dips, lets out a soft chuckle as you don’t stir at all, realizing you were completely dead to the world* *he moves the blanket as gently as he can before dipping down and picking you up easily, one arm under your back and one under your arms, bridal style* *he glances towards his bed, taking a moment to think about the optics of that, knowing that wasn’t a good look, he wanted you to be awake and consciously choose to sleep in his bed, he did not want to be that guy* *he turns and slowly makes his way back across the hall and into the dark guest room, maneuvering over to the bed and laying you down softly* *he can’t help but smile again as you stir just a bit but not enough to fully wake up, realizing you were really asleep and that made his heart swell* *he grabs the blanket from the end of the bed, not wanting to tossle you around too much by pulling the comforter up from under you, laying the soft blanket over you, brushing a stray curl from your face and leaning down, pressing his lips to your forehead softly* Goodnight, Hannah.. *he leans up slowly, admiring you for just a moment longer before turning to leave*

______________________________________________________

*I barely stir at all when you lift me, your warmth and scent being so comforting even in my sleep as I nestle my face closer to your chest, letting out a soft sigh as you hold me and take me into the guest room, letting out a soft noise and smacking my lips when you put me down, feeling a little restless and brows furrowing in my sleep when you weren’t as close to me, cuddling into the blanket a little as you tuck me in but still not as comfortable and rested as I was in your arms* *feels the pressure of your lips against my head, my body stirring awake a little and eyes hooded and sleepy as I open them gently, looking up at you with a slightly sleepy confused expression as I reach for you, not awake enough to know fully what had happened but knowing that you were leaving and I didn’t want that, grasping your wrist gently to stop you going and looking up at you with lidded eyes, yawning quietly as I tug gently on your arm* Stay please..*whispers, voice thick with sleep as my eyes drift again, so tired but needing you to be here with me and holding me, not wanting to sleep alone* 

[pyxie-styxx]

Me and the Sun

The light coming in from my window blinds me, and the searing pain behind my eyes washes over me. When was the last time I saw the Sun? I can’t remember, it feels like an eternity. And yet, it feels like it never left, summoning me with its radiance to leave the comfortable darkness I’ve wallowed in for so long. Waiting for me to be ready and willing to embrace it’s light once again, no matter how much it burns.

It’s burned me before. I didn’t listen to the warnings, and like Icarus, I flew too close. Having barely made it out in tact, the heat of it nearly incinerated me. I can still feel the pain from the very first time its flames grazed my skin. It induced burns and fear, and at first I was paralyzed. I had not the slightest clue what my next move should be. But then came the sick desire. A desire that ached in the very core of my being, and it became a puppet master for most every decision I made after that. It took hold of me, and I obeyed. Over and over, I kept coming back to the blinding Sun like a moth to a flame. It’s brilliance overwhelmed me. I became enslaved to it, obsessed with it. But no matter what I did, the outcome was never any different.

Madness enveloped me. I continued to return, the burns slowly spreading to cover my entire body. Every attempt was pathetic, embarrassing even. But I held onto that dream that, just maybe, next time would be different. That I would walk with the Sun, breathing in its warmth and exhaling relief and safety. But that illusion would fade quick. No matter how I tried, only fire and smoke would breach my lips. Ash would coat my throat, and I would choke on the soot. All I could do was retreat, lick my wounds, then limp back with my tail between my legs, thanking the Sun for allowing me to walk with it once again.

But just as the Sun sets, and the light fades, the Moon would rise and cast its soft, healing glow down upon the Earth. And I would finally feel safe, cradled by that gentle, white light. The stars would smile and wave at me, and I would wave back. I could see so much more of the sky than I had ever thought possible. That was when I realized, maybe the absence of the Sun wasn’t as scary as I thought. Maybe I could survive within the moonbeams and the stars and the darkness. It was safe here. No flames could burn me, no light too blinding. The world was still and silent, and nothing could hurt me under the Moon’s glow.

But the Moon was still a reflection of my fears. It was still a threatening realization that with the fall of the Moon, the Sun would rise once again and cast its heavy rays down upon the poor Earth, baking the ground and charring the trees. The world would no longer be quiet, no longer be still, and I would have to face the burns, and ash, and flames yet again. The Sun gripped me, scorched me, begged me to forget all the pain and anguish I endured. To focus only on the warmth and light, rather than the flames and sweltering heat. But I could not.

So I said no.

I said no and was thrust into the night. I crashed hard, and my heart shattered upon impact. I was alone, with nothing but the Moon’s glow, taunting the Sun’s return. A reminder of the damage done. And so I laid there, shuddering in what once was the hopeful, peaceful moonbeams, fearing the new meaning behind them. Fear turned to disdain, and disdain turned to remorse. But I stayed strong, and held my ground. Gradually, I began to sit up, warily looking around. Eventually, I was standing all on my own. I learned to make friends with the stars, and I danced under meteor showers. I waved at the comets passing by, wishing them well on their travels. And slowly, slowly, I could feel my heart piecing itself back together, one fragment at a time.

Now, that remorse has morphed into something else entirely. It is hurt, it is apprehensive, but it is also curious. Curious about other solar systems. Will other stars shine as bright as the Sun? Will they burn? Or will they glow? Are they as hot, or even hotter? I’m not sure, and I can’t be sure. But as the searing pain fades, my eyes flutter open to reveal the view from beyond my window. I can see clearly each individual blade of grass, the morning dew glistening off of them. Once appearing as thorns, now resembling shimmering emeralds. The sky a brilliant blue with white wisps of cotton-candy clouds, so vast every part of me just wants to dive right in. The Sun beams down upon the Earth, inviting it to wake up and bask in the daylight alongside it.

And it is breathtaking.

[nigthsoflune]

In the realm of my universe, she shone as the brightest moon, rescuing me from the depths of loneliness. Our paths unexpectedly crossed two months ago, and the memory remains etched in my mind, lingering forever. Back then, she was a stranger, and I'm unaware of the profound impact she would have on my life.

This is How The Story Began.

Chapter 1: Her.

It was an ordinary day in September. I'm strolling around the time timeline. As my fingers and my wide awake eyes have nothing to do, finally I decided to sending a message on auto-base. A captivating sight caught my attention—this person left a reply there. We talk casually on the timeline but a day after, it was as if a spell had been cast, we could get a chance to talk privately. And the more I talk to her the more her presence sparked my curiosity, igniting a desire to know her better and better. Though her character remained a mystery back then because we didn't have much time to talk, I sensed that she was a good person.

As I continue to delve deeper into her world, I've discovered many things. She possesses an undeniable charm that captivates those around her. Her kindness and compassion radiate from within, leaving a lasting impact on everyone she encounters. With her soft and kind-hearted character, she approaches life with grace and tenderness, always being mindful and lovable. Getting to know her has revealed a person of remarkable character—someone whose presence brings warmth and comfort.

Chapter 2: Him.

He used to feel like a lonely and sad person, isolating himself from others. He didn't see the value in spending time with people because of he is tired being a giver. But everything changed when he met her. She brought light into his life, helped him break free from his loneliness, and now he feels incredibly happy, and he feeling blessed everyday simply because of her presence.

Hi, I wanna tell you little bit about myself! So, I'm not a person who is good at expressing my feelings or myself, I used to be shy and awkward person who always hesitated to say how I felt or what I felt, but that has gradually changed since I'm meeting her, she is the person I really care about. She is very precious to me right now, and I want her to be the happiest person ever.

At first, she may have thought of me as cold and scary person because I'm not really well at expressing myself and also I'm not talking much, it's all because my awkwardness, however, this was not the case.. I simply didn't know how to express myself or how to show my emotions, but as time passed, I learned a lot from her about how to express our feelings, how it can be like that? It's all because I truly felt loved by the way she treated me, she always show me how to love and being loved (without her realize it).

And, that is where I learn to begin, I'm starting to pay attention to what she likes and doesn't like, as well as learn all the little details about her, I don't really talk much honestly, but I'm quite a caring person since the beginning. I always ask how her day was or just what she's doing or whether she's eaten or not, then doing many things together and I'm very happy when she likes it and being smiley all day.

Maybe I'm not a romantic person who can always saying sweet things everyday, but I show my love by doing small things that other people consider as normal. I can be someone who is always there whenever she needs me, I'm always one call away and being her 911. Nevertheless, I am grateful because she can sense my love even in small gestures like that (I'm so lucky to have her), but I really want her to know that my love for her is bigger than anything else in this world, I'm still learning how to show it to her and I promise it will getting better each days, also I'll make sure she is feel loved to the fullest.

Chapter 3: Us.

So, do you want to know who is she all along?

Yes the she on my story is you, a moonlit sky on a dark night, bring warmth and hope by shining so bright. Thank you for being my guiding light and illuminating my dull life.

My Moon, as well as being said, will you be willing to take my hand and walk on the same path with me, making your way and my way become ours?

[asterigos]

GENERAL INFORMATION

► FULL NAME: Esperanza Corona ► NICKNAMES: Ranza ► GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis Woman (She/Her) ► AGE: 43 ► BIRTHDAY: April 10 ► SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual ► OCCUPATION: Councilperson (former doctor)

BACKGROUND INFORMATION

► RELIGION: Agnostic ► EDUCATION LEVEL: University-equivalent ► ECONOMIC STATUS: Upper class ► SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English (fluent), Spanish (fluent)

PERSONALITY

► JUNG TYPE: IS(T/F)J ► MORAL ALIGNMENT: Neutral Good ► TEMPERAMENT: Melancholic ► QUALITIES: Conscientious, Level-headed, Sincere, Supportive, Sympathetic ► FLAWS: Holds grudges, Petty, Self-critical, Restrained, Stressed

BIOGRAPHY

trigger warning(s): death, murder

Esperanza’s life has been spent within the current city’s walls she's been residing in since her 20s, but there was a time before that brief as it was that she lived in a world vastly different from the one she knows now. Before when there were still seasons, where the sun shined brightly and the light felt like a warm caress against her skin. Before when trees bore leaves, when the grass was green – when there was grass at all. Before when the only form of valued currency were paper bills. But now it’s snow as far as the eye can see. Snow and ice, harshly reflecting light under the bleak daylight. And undead, hoards of undead, polluting the land.

There was a time when her life was simple and good. When her parents would take her to school in the morning, when she’d sit in a class and learn with her peers, when her parents would pick her up at the end of the day. They’d ask how it was and bring her home where they’d make dinner together. Little Esperanza liked to help as much as any young child could. She celebrated her birthdays with cake and presents inside a warm home filled with laughter and smiles. They were never wealthy or even sat comfortably in middle-class, but they were happy.

But then it came to an abrupt stop. The world was covered in ice that would never melt. Undead rose and there was no stopping them. Her mother gathered up all their most essential belongings, her father gathered up supplies they needed to survive, and they left home.

Ill prepared for a cutthroat life of survival, the family was quick to join with another one as it was agreed that there was safety in numbers. As they traveled they picked up a few stragglers here and there and soon they were a small, but sizeable group. It was scary for a small child who missed the warmth of spring and summer, but Esperanza did her best to help the group with what few skills she had by then.

They were managing. Barely, but managing. That was, until they found themselves under attack from some bandits. It all happened faster than Esperanza’s little mind her comprehend. She became separated from her parents in the chaos only to be found later by her father while she was hiding under some rubble with tears and dirt smearing her face.

She asked where her mother was, but her father said she didn’t make it. Esperanza cried, audibly this time. She asked to see her, asked to see where her mother was, but her father refused. He swept Esperanza up and they traveled, their group much thinner in numbers now, and set up camp elsewhere as far away from where they’d been as they could manage.

As she grew, Esperanza learned medicine from other members in the group, one being a former doctor, so that she could help people to try and prevent anymore losses. She hoped her mother would’ve been proud of her.

By chance, she overheard one night her father and another group member having a heated discussion. And it was then she learned the truth. Her father snapped back at whomever he was speaking with and his voice rose. He had sacrificed Esperanza’s mother to save himself – he had used her mother as a live shield while he found cover. It was coldblooded and brutal. Esperanza seethed in the dark.

She confronted him and after an argument, she stormed off and never looked back. It was then she found her way to a new settlement where she was quick to situate herself and took up work as a medic, putting to use the knowledge she’d learned in the time she’d spent with her previous group. She also immersed herself in the settlement’s politics and attended what meetings she could to suggest policies and alternative solutions as they were needed. She spoke to the denizens and sought to find solutions to their issues as well.

Her work was taken notice of and she eventually rose from medic to councilperson where she worked tirelessly to better the lives of the community and ensure its survival. With her desire to help others, it came as no surprise when Esperanza came to act as a sort of liaison between the denizens and the council. Despite this, when she has the spare time she can be found walking the grounds to make sure everyone has what they need and offer her assistance where she can. Often times she can be found in the medic bay when there aren’t meetings to prepare for and attend to help out there and keep her medical knowledge and skills sharp.

MISC. INFORMATION

► Although satisfied as a councilperson, if the position of governor were to ever open up she knows she’d consider making a bid for it. ► In what little down time she gets, Esperanza will look for ways she can help people out around the settlement and check in to see how they’re doing. She does genuinely care about the people which may sometimes get her into trouble as it can lead to her wanting to do push for a rule or quality of life that may not be feasible without compromising something else of importance to the settlement. ► This also leads to inner conflict of questioning if she is sometimes choosing between doing the right thing vs. doing the good thing. ► Despite how social she comes across, Esperanza is an introvert and does enjoy sometimes spending her free time alone in whatever quiet place she can find. It’s led to her discovering some secreted away places that are often overlooked. ► Cares a lot about the people, but she’s not entirely self-sacrificing. She’ll do what she can to help others and enjoys doing so as well as getting to know the people around, but not if it threatens her ability to work towards helping others unless such a sacrifice was somehow more helpful to the people than not. ► She’s nice both because she genuinely wants to be but also because she knows it means if she ever gets serious or harsh later, it will (or rather should be) taken seriously. Esperanza also knows that people are more responsive towards towards those who come across amicable than hostile. ► Her niceness isn’t to be scoffed at or taken advantage of. She’s not naive and knows some people may try to use this against her. If provoked or otherwise crossed, she can turn cold and terse. While she won’t actively seek to make someone’s life more difficult, she won’t be as willing to help either. She holds grudges and can turn cold and terse. And a little petty.

[humangods]

GENERAL INFORMATION

► FULL NAME: Esperanza Corona ► NICKNAMES: Ranza ► GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis Woman (She/Her) ► AGE: 43 ► BIRTHDAY: April 10 ► SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual ► OCCUPATION: Councilperson (former doctor)

BACKGROUND INFORMATION

► RELIGION: Agnostic ► EDUCATION LEVEL: University-equivalent ► ECONOMIC STATUS: Upper class ► SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English (fluent), Spanish (fluent)

PERSONALITY

► JUNG TYPE: IS(T/F)J ► MORAL ALIGNMENT: Neutral Good ► TEMPERAMENT: Melancholic ► QUALITIES: Conscientious, Level-headed, Sincere, Supportive, Sympathetic ► FLAWS: Holds grudges, Petty, Self-critical, Restrained, Stressed

BIOGRAPHY

trigger warning(s): death, murder

Esperanza’s life has been spent within the current city’s walls she's been residing in since her 20s, but there was a time before that brief as it was that she lived in a world vastly different from the one she knows now. Before when there were still seasons, where the sun shined brightly and the light felt like a warm caress against her skin. Before when trees bore leaves, when the grass was green – when there was grass at all. Before when the only form of valued currency were paper bills. But now it’s snow as far as the eye can see. Snow and ice, harshly reflecting light under the bleak daylight. And undead, hoards of undead, polluting the land.

There was a time when her life was simple and good. When her parents would take her to school in the morning, when she’d sit in a class and learn with her peers, when her parents would pick her up at the end of the day. They’d ask how it was and bring her home where they’d make dinner together. Little Esperanza liked to help as much as any young child could. She celebrated her birthdays with cake and presents inside a warm home filled with laughter and smiles. They were never wealthy or even sat comfortably in middle-class, but they were happy.

But then it came to an abrupt stop. The world was covered in ice that would never melt. Undead rose and there was no stopping them. Her mother gathered up all their most essential belongings, her father gathered up supplies they needed to survive, and they left home.

Ill prepared for a cutthroat life of survival, the family was quick to join with another one as it was agreed that there was safety in numbers. As they traveled they picked up a few stragglers here and there and soon they were a small, but sizeable group. It was scary for a small child who missed the warmth of spring and summer, but Esperanza did her best to help the group with what few skills she had by then.

They were managing. Barely, but managing. That was, until they found themselves under attack from some bandits. It all happened faster than Esperanza’s little mind her comprehend. She became separated from her parents in the chaos only to be found later by her father while she was hiding under some rubble with tears and dirt smearing her face.

She asked where her mother was, but her father said she didn’t make it. Esperanza cried, audibly this time. She asked to see her, asked to see where her mother was, but her father refused. He swept Esperanza up and they traveled, their group much thinner in numbers now, and set up camp elsewhere as far away from where they’d been as they could manage.

As she grew, Esperanza learned medicine from other members in the group, one being a former doctor, so that she could help people to try and prevent anymore losses. She hoped her mother would’ve been proud of her.

By chance, she overheard one night her father and another group member having a heated discussion. And it was then she learned the truth. Her father snapped back at whomever he was speaking with and his voice rose. He had sacrificed Esperanza’s mother to save himself – he had used her mother as a live shield while he found cover. It was coldblooded and brutal. Esperanza seethed in the dark.

She confronted him and after an argument, she stormed off and never looked back. It was then she found her way to a new settlement where she was quick to situate herself and took up work as a medic, putting to use the knowledge she’d learned in the time she’d spent with her previous group. She also immersed herself in the settlement’s politics and attended what meetings she could to suggest policies and alternative solutions as they were needed. She spoke to the denizens and sought to find solutions to their issues as well.

Her work was taken notice of and she eventually rose from medic to councilperson where she worked tirelessly to better the lives of the community and ensure its survival. With her desire to help others, it came as no surprise when Esperanza came to act as a sort of liaison between the denizens and the council. Despite this, when she has the spare time she can be found walking the grounds to make sure everyone has what they need and offer her assistance where she can. Often times she can be found in the medic bay when there aren’t meetings to prepare for and attend to help out there and keep her medical knowledge and skills sharp.

MISC. INFORMATION

► Although satisfied as a councilperson, if the position of governor were to ever open up she knows she’d consider making a bid for it. ► In what little down time she gets, Esperanza will look for ways she can help people out around the settlement and check in to see how they’re doing. She does genuinely care about the people which may sometimes get her into trouble as it can lead to her wanting to do push for a rule or quality of life that may not be feasible without compromising something else of importance to the settlement. ► This also leads to inner conflict of questioning if she is sometimes choosing between doing the right thing vs. doing the good thing. ► Despite how social she comes across, Esperanza is an introvert and does enjoy sometimes spending her free time alone in whatever quiet place she can find. It’s led to her discovering some secreted away places that are often overlooked. ► Cares a lot about the people, but she’s not entirely self-sacrificing. She’ll do what she can to help others and enjoys doing so as well as getting to know the people around, but not if it threatens her ability to work towards helping others unless such a sacrifice was somehow more helpful to the people than not. ► She’s nice both because she genuinely wants to be but also because she knows it means if she ever gets serious or harsh later, it will (or rather should be) taken seriously. Esperanza also knows that people are more responsive towards towards those who come across amicable than hostile. ► Her niceness isn’t to be scoffed at or taken advantage of. She’s not naive and knows some people may try to use this against her. If provoked or otherwise crossed, she can turn cold and terse. While she won’t actively seek to make someone’s life more difficult, she won’t be as willing to help either. She holds grudges and can turn cold and terse. And a little petty.

[gimmethatagustd]

I cannot stress this enough:

Soft sleepy sex with Hoseok, intimate and slow and maybe a bit of overstimulation... that's it- my mind can't think any further 🥥

TAKE CARE OF ME | JHS

You'd never trade quiet, sleepless nights with your boyfriend for anything in the world, even when sometimes it feels like the world is falling apart around you.

» pairing: hoseok x reader

» genre: BTS | 18+ | established relationship | fluffy smut

» word count/date: 3k | August 2022

» warnings: cunnilingus | fingering | handjob | marking | multiple orgasms | overstimulation | unprotected vaginal sex

» notes: pls this request had me going full on raging DELULU

» masterlist 

» what was jai listening to? belong to you (ft. 6lack) - sabrina claudio

Gentle. Always gentle. A long time ago, you used to hate being treated gently. The vulnerability that came with someone taking care of you, being soft with you, knowing every little detail about you enough to shape their world around you… it was hard. Scary. Gross, even. You wanted to be tougher than that because one day that gentleness would end and how would that leave you? 

Empty. 

That is, until you met him. 

You felt Hoseok wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest so he could tuck his face into the crook of your neck. His warm breath tickled goosebumps across your shoulders and arms, but his grip kept you grounded. His hands pressed into your sides to hold you in place. Like a weighted blanket, you felt secure with him on his side behind you, the rise of his chest comforting as he breathed against your back. 

His warmth and the pattern of his breathing was almost enough to lull you back to sleep. You couldn’t tell what time it was. The storm raging outside knocked the power out just before the two of you climbed into bed, but you assumed only an hour or so had passed. 

“Hey,” Hoseok whispered in your ear. You let out a small ‘mmm’ in response and nestled backwards into his arms even more deeply. “Are you having trouble sleeping?” 

You nodded, eyes still closed. A crack of lightning briefly lit up your dark bedroom with white light bright enough to penetrate your eyelids. 

“Want me to make you some tea?” 

Forcing your eyes open, you twisted around to face him. Hoseok’s hair was messy, wavy strands flopped in every direction. You reached up to brush his bangs away from his eyes. He’d been growing out his hair and you quite liked being able to ruffle the strands around, watching them fluff up and flop to the side. Especially the hair at the back of his neck that was now longer than you’d ever seen it. You liked the way it made him look rugged and slightly unkempt; the exact opposite of your responsible, well-organized Hobi. 

At this point, you were just barely able to make out the details of his features in the dark. But you felt the way he leaned into you and you knew to meet him halfway so he could give you a light peck on the forehead. Gentle. Always gentle. 

“No, it’s okay,” you insisted. You gave him a tap on the nose. “You’re too considerate sometimes.” 

“Never.” 

“Yes you are.” 

“Only a little bit.” 

“A lotta bit.” 

A pout was his next rebuttal. You reached out to press your fingers against his lips as though you were trying to smooth them out. When you moved to pull away, Hoseok caught your hand and pressed it against his mouth again. He kissed your palm, then each fingertip. The softness of his touch sent shivers down your arm. 

“It’s because I love you so much,” he murmured, his voice tired and thick. 

Before you could respond, he cupped your face and pulled you towards him. His lips moved against yours softly, guiding you into a slow dance you’d only dance with him. A smooth hand ran down your side to stop at your hip, squeezing it lightly. Your fingers found Hoseok’s hair, tangling in the loose waves at the back of his head and tugging just enough to make him sigh against your mouth. You captured his bottom lip between your teeth when he slightly parted his lips, taking advantage of the opportunity to nibble and suck on it. 

“You’re gonna start something,” Hoseok spoke gruffly when he pulled away. You tugged at his hair again and got the quietest of moans out of him. “I’m serious.” 

Even if he hadn’t said anything, his growing erection pressed against your body said enough. 

“Maybe I want to start something.”

The room stood still, shadows from the swaying tree branches outside the only movements. Eventually, Hoseok shifted, pressing his chest against yours with enough force to roll you onto your back. Wordlessly, he shifted beneath the blankets to hover above you. His forearms rested on either side of your head while you felt him spread your legs apart with his knee. Slotting himself between your thighs, he lazily rolled his hips into yours. You whimpered from the pressure and the heat radiating off of him. Soon you felt that heat on your neck as Hoseok sucked hickeys onto you, swirling his tongue against your skin. In the past, you thought making love was boring, that you needed to be treated roughly in order for sex to be fun. You were accustomed to being used. Sex with Hoseok, though? It was heated and weightless. 

He left wet kisses along your throat while his hands gripped the hem of your t-shirt. Well, his t-shirt, an old baggy one he never wore anymore. He cradled the back of your head as he pulled it off, careful to rest you back onto your pillow. 

“It’s so cold,” you whispered. 

“Mhm.” 

Hoseok pulled the blanket up, making himself disappear beneath it in the process. With him out of sight, you lifted up the blanket slightly to peek at him, only to drop it in favor of squeezing the bed sheets beneath you as you felt him drag your underwear down your legs. He grabbed the back of your thighs and pushed forward so your legs were lifted up, feet against his shoulders and pussy on display. The inability to see what he was doing under the blanket only heightened your desire and you felt your arousal drip down. 

One hand pressed hot into your hip where your thigh creased from the angle Hoseok had your legs pushed up. The other slipped between your thighs. 

“Hobiii,” you moaned, head slightly lifting off the bed when you felt his fingers swipe at your wetness gathering around your entrance. 

He coated his fingertips before sliding his fingers upwards, parting your lips until he got to your clit and began circling it. You clenched, though the way he had you folded into yourself made it difficult for you to get any friction to provide relief. Instead he kept you raised and spread open, fingers slippery and sticky. It was easy for him to slip two fingers inside of you, even easier to hit that sweet spot on your front wall to have you lifting off the bed again. The way he pumped into you was sleepy and slow, but you hadn’t expected anything faster. Hoseok shouldn’t have even been doing this; you knew how exhausted he was. He should have been sleeping. 

Instead, you felt him shift, his shoulders dropping down slightly. And then you felt the tip of his tongue flick against your clit. 

“Fuck, babyy, oh fuck.” You immediately let go of the bed sheets and slipped your arms beneath the blanket, fingers digging into Hoseok’s hair. 

“Mmhmm, uhh huhh,” Hoseok moaned into your pussy, his lips closing around your clit. He suckled it softly, applying such light pressure while his tongue licked at you that you felt like you were going to explode. 

“More, baby,” you whined. “Faster.” 

He shook his head, smearing his lips with your arousal, and you weren’t sure if that was an answer to your requests or just him enjoying his late night snack. Likely the former since he returned to gently sucking your clit and taking his sweet time pumping his fingers in and out of you. 

“Please, Hobi.” 

Begging usually got you what you wanted, especially when you used the breathy, high-pitched, pornographic whine that you knew drove him crazy. To add to your plea, you tugged a bit harder on his hair, dragging your fingers through his bangs to pull the strands out of his face. 

Suddenly, his mouth left your pussy and your next whine was that of disappointment. When his tongue returned it was to lick along your lips, and he occasionally pressed kisses everywhere but your clit. 

“It’s bedtime,” you heard him speak from the darkness. “I’m going slow to lull my baby to sleep, okay?” Then his lips were burning into you once again. 

Your build up was gradual, a growing throb as your clit became even hotter and more swollen with every lap of Hoseok’s tongue and curl of his fingers. You squirmed and arched your back beneath him, cursing him for taking his time with you even when you both knew you loved it. The fact that your sheets were already soaked through was a testament to that. Who the fuck cared if you were tired and supposed to be sleeping? Every drag of Hoseok’s hot tongue across your clit, every drip of his saliva coating your pussy had him practically exorcizing your soul from your body. 

But when Hoseok unexpectedly slipped a third finger inside of you and sucked your clit with a tiny bit more force, he finally got you unraveling in a flash of white light that you weren’t sure was you cumming or the lightning outside. 

Your legs twitched uncontrollably where they’d flopped over Hoseok’s shoulders and down his back. Exhaustion made them heavy, and you struggled to move them while Hoseok wouldn’t let go of you. He’d removed his fingers from you and had both his hands on the backs of your thighs, keeping you spread open as he continued sucking your clit. 

“Hobi, oh my god, please, I came already,” you whimpered, pulling his hair to get his attention. He moaned a response into your skin and began lapping against you, flicking your clit from side to side. Your body jerked forward, but Hoseok’s grip on your thighs kept you pushed down. 

“Jung Hoseok.” 

Rather than sound threatening, your voice cracked and Hoseok had the audacity to laugh. 

Tears welled up in your eyes and your body jerked again when you felt his teeth gently graze the top of your clit. A guttural moan was torn from your throat as you came a second time, squeezing Hoseok’s hair so tightly you were sure you’d ripped a few strands out accidentally. 

Finally, finally, Hoseok emerged from beneath the blanket. He crawled up to hover over you once again, chest heaving and arms caging you in. 

“It was hard to breathe under there,” he laughed again. 

You opened your mouth to speak but all you could do was whimper once again. 

“What was that, baby?” Hoseok drawled. He dipped his head down to nip at your earlobe and your eyes fluttered. 

“Felt good,” you finally found your voice. 

“Better than tea?” 

“Much better.” 

Hoseok chuckled, sleepy eyes meeting yours through his bangs that fell forward, slightly obscuring his face. The storm outside wasn’t raging as loudly against the windows, but the occasional lightning bolt still lit up your bedroom, allowing you to see more flickers of his face. You brought your fingers to his throat, running them along his Adam’s apple until you reached the dip where his collarbones met, before venturing down his bare chest. When your fingers dragged down his abdomen, you felt Hoseok suck in his stomach and heard him hiss lightly. 

“What about you?” you whispered. You reached the waistband of his briefs, but you didn’t move any lower. Still, you could feel Hoseok’s cock twitch against you. 

“I’m okay, baby. Don’t worry about me. I want you to sleep.” 

He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck for a moment before he began to pull away from you. There he was, being too considerate again. How many times had he insisted he didn’t need anything from you? You’d never met someone more selfless. It wasn’t fair. 

You quickly slipped your hand into his underwear and squeezed his cock, rolling your palm around the tip where precum already started to drip out. 

“Shit, babe…” Hoseok stayed nuzzled in the crook of your neck and bucked into your hand with languid thrusts. There wasn’t a desire to chase a high, but more so a desire to relish in the warmth of your hand, the firmness of your grip, the comforting smell of your body wash. 

“Is it embarrassing,” he took a deep breath and pulled away from your neck to look you in the eyes as he thrusted again, “that I could cum right now, just from this?” 

“Maybe a little bit.” 

Your honesty and the giggle that followed brought a frown to Hoseok’s face. You had no intention of letting him cum in your hands. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you smoothed out his frown when you pulled him into a kiss. Your hands traveled the lean muscles of his back, reaching down to squeeze his ass. 

“Feisty.” You felt him smirk against your lips. Hooking your fingers beneath the waistband of his underwear, you pulled the clothing down his thighs and waited for him to sit back to completely remove them. 

“Come up here,” you ordered him, but Hoseok shook his head. 

“I’m too tired to fuck your mouth. Let me put my energy into fucking you the right way.” 

You felt a shiver down your spine and nodded silently as you spread your legs wider to accommodate him. 

Hoseok ran his hands down your legs until he could reach around to the back of your thighs. Pushing them up, he folded you nearly in half as he had when he ate you out, keeping you slightly elevated and wide open for him. Since his hands were occupied, you reached between your bodies to guide him. Hoseok’s breath hitched when you lined his cock up with your entrance. 

He sunk into you slowly, taking his time slipping inch by inch to allow you to adjust and to savor the high that came with that initial thrust. Your mind was still foggy from two orgasms and a lack of sleep, so you appreciated his thoughtfulness as he eased into you. 

“Mmmm,” he sighed once he bottomed out and your bodies were flush against each other. Leaning forward slightly, Hoseok rested both of your legs on his shoulders. 

“Yeah baby?” Your voice trembled as you watched him brush his lips along your calf, planting a soft kiss at your ankle. His hands fell to your waist to hold your hips down as he drew back. He pulled out of you as far as he could just to slowly ease into you once again. Each thrust was thoughtful, intentional. His strokes were slow, but long and deep. 

“You know you leave me speechless,” Hoseok groaned, pushing a bit deeper in his next thrust. Your whimpers got louder when you felt him brush your cervix, his fingers pushing you hard into the bed. 

Hoseok was definitely the biggest you’d ever been with, but even more importantly, he was the most fluid in his movements. He knew how to move his body with flexibility and grace, which for you was the most satisfying aspect of sleeping with him. You never had to put in work to get yourself off; every roll of Hoseok’s hips made his cock glide against your g-spot and his pelvis stimulate your clit. You weren’t an object for Hoseok to use to get off. No, Hoseok put your pleasure in the center of everything he did. 

Although sometimes that wasn’t necessary. He brought his fingers to your clit, but you swatted him away. 

“I’m tapped out,” you sighed. You really didn’t need him to try to make you cum three times. What was this, porn?? Two orgasms was plenty. 

“Are you really?” he smiled, a hand creeping back towards your clit. You swatted at him again. “Alright, alright. I’ll cum without you like an asshole.”

“Stop being so dramatic.” You clenched your muscles around his cock and Hoseok let out a low moan. If he was ready to bust from a simple handjob, you were sure he was having to work hard to keep it together now that he was inside you. 

“Do that again for me, baby,” he said in a shaky breath that confirmed your suspicions. Another moan rumbled from him when you did as you were told, tightening around him and pressing your thighs against his abdomen. “Fuck, fuck,” he hissed through clenched teeth. 

You loved to watch Hoseok fall apart. The tip of his tongue poked out of his mouth when he bit down on the muscle as he was concentrating on each gentle snap of his hips against yours. His strong hands squeezed your waist to ground himself once his thrusts became a bit erratic. His messy hair fell into his eyes when he leaned his head slightly forward to watch your bodies collide. 

“Hobi,” you moaned, reaching up to pull him into a kiss. “Cum for me, baby. You’ve been so good for me.” 

“You,” he took a deep breath, “You are so fucking sexy.” 

Your legs fell down to wrap around Hoseok’s waist as he leaned into your kiss. One hand stayed at your waist while another slid down to grip your thigh against his hip as Hoseok picked up his pace. His breathing came out ragged against your cheek, his lips sucking little kisses along your jaw until he was back to marking up your neck. 

He squeezed you hard when he came, whimpering and moaning your name into your neck like the sweetest lullaby. When he slowly eased his body on top of yours you welcomed the pressure of his weight, even though it was difficult to breathe. 

“Better than tea?” 

Hoseok snorted, but you saw his eyes sparkle in the moonlight as he gently pulled out of you and found his spot beside you once again. “Much better.” 

His long arms dragged you backwards so you were pressed against each other with chests still heaving. 

“Thank you,” you said after a moment. You were beginning to crash from your orgasmic high. Darkness eased your eyelids lower and lower until you couldn’t bear to open them again. 

“You know I’ll always take care of you.” Hoseok nuzzled your neck and squeezed you against his chest. “I hope you sleep well, baby.” 

You murmured a “you, too” and fell asleep to the steady pattern of Hoseok’s breathing and the knowledge that there was no one else who could care for you the way he did.

all rights reserved © gimmethatagustd on tumblr & ao3

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

[dokuixote]

falling in love with seventeen’s 97z

☆ LEE SEOKMIN

— you bid farewell to the the harsh chills of winter; frozen hands and clattering teeth are long gone. the grass looks greener, the sky seems brighter, and the air is filled with so much hope for new beginnings you feel it crawl in every inch of your skin. but you, you didn’t need to go through all other seasons of the year to have a bright, sunny spring because this is how dokyeom’s love feels. he first said hello with a shy, sheepish smile and you said hi back with a grin, sparkled by a new yet familiar feeling, as if it’s the first time you stepped on the grass barefoot after locking yourself inside the comfort of your home to protect yourself from the cold. with dokyeom’s kindest eyes and most welcoming smile, you found yourself willingly embrace this newfound freedom. hands accidentally brushing against each other and awkward laughs to cover unwanted silence eventually turn to sneaking kisses on the cheeks (few on the nose), stolen photographs, late night phone calls, and plans for the future that often involve debates on how many dogs to adopt and what to name them. home, since then, was this person who brought himself to you, providing security and solace more than the four-walled concrete you used to confine yourself in. as you spend more days with him, the warmth bubbling inside you grows and grows you start feel his love everywhere, brightness filling up every corner of your of life. he brought light to the parts of you that you’ve never felt brave enough to show before. no fear, fight, or fury could douse the light of twin flames—your love for one another burns still you began to forgot what the cold found in darkness feels like because even if the sun kisses the earth good night dokyeom’s love made you feel brighter than any star.

☆ KIM MINGYU

— mingyu knows the wonders of abandoning careful planning in exchange of surrendering to spontaneity. the man loves to be on the giving end of surprises. he’s the one with coffee in hand when your day starts too early for your liking. he’s the one giving you a ribboned box with the exact necklace you once pointed at as you stroll along the mall together “just because”. he’s the one ringing the doorbell of your house at exactly 12am with a birthday cake on one hand, a string of balloons and a bouquet on the other. he’s the one standing at the door of your classroom ready to treat you to your nearby favorite restaurant after a difficult exam. he’s the one coming over to your house at 2 in the morning when you texted him that you’re tired and on the verge of a breakdown. he’s the one showing up at your house when you’re ill, unannounced, to cook and serve your favorite meal. so see, you fall in love with him like that too—suddenly. he’s always there when you needed him most, and he’d promised to be by your side even when you don’t. you wake up one morning and realize that all along you and mingyu were always somewhere between friends and lovers. all you needed was a little push. you have to admit it’s scary to jump blindly with seemingly nothing to land on to. a chance that it will go wrong, a possibility to lose him, there’s so much to be afraid of. but you go for it anyways, and so does mingyu. as much as he loves surprises, it isn’t, however, a surprise to you that it’s mingyu, the person who has always known how to love you, is the one beside you holding your hand as you allow yourself to fall.

☆ XU MINGHAO

— minghao believes in building a world full of love through art. you can see it in his clothes, dance, photographs, books, and paintings. but his most beautiful art of all is found in the way he loves you. in quiet mornings and tangled sheets you feel his gaze soaking in all your patterns and his touch running over your textured edges, minghao humming in appreciation and wonder. he never gets tired of basking in all your colors—the yellows when he sees your face light up as he spins you around the open space of your kitchen, hues of blues when your thoughts are loomed over by clouds of sadness he longs to instantly blow away for eternity, and the violent red streaks he despised seeing during heated arguments he wishes never happened at the first place. minghao’s love possesses the same intimacy of looking at a framed picasso in the museum. he knows it requires time and patience to see, feel, understand, and experience everything that makes you whole. you easily get lost in his eyes that become the hands reaching your soul with the way he looks at you. the painter’s hands devotes themselves in exploring you because it’s the extension of his beating heart. he created a universe with a language that only the two of you speaks which allowed enough space for vulnerability and intimacy. with all this love you know you won’t find in anyone else, you wonder how he still looks you in the eyes and tell you you’re the one who’s beautiful.

svt x love series: 95z, 96z, 97z