sin-oh

[sin-oh]

BIRBS WRITING FOR SILCO??????? (SLAMS THE BUTTON) WEE WOO WEE WOO

HOBBYISTS & FINER THINGS.   ;   silco / reader

summary: perhaps all this trouble is worth it. or, you come into ownership of the lilac lounge and after a business inquiry, find you've earned silco's interest.

word count: 2.1k

pairing: silco / f!reader

a/n: a little something i've been stewing on. enjoy what will undoubtedly become a little series, knowing me. this pretty gif is by @aestheticsicrushon from this set here!

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"Tea?"

You're beginning to think this whole thing was more trouble than it was worth. By 'thing', you quite candidly mean the fact The Lilac Lounge — one of three brothel's residing along the Lanes' main strip — was now under your ownership.

You'd be lying if you said it hadn't come as surprise.

(The sort of surprise that had riled half the Lanes the next morning — your screams of disbelief had ricocheted down the strip, the squawk sending whatever poor gutter rats and ravens fleeing from their morning meals. WHAT?!)

You and Yeleni — the previous owner — had never really seen eye-to-eye. She was a disgruntled, old courtesan who could rarely admit a single fault, and yet you stuck around. Be it loyalty or stubbornness, you're still not quite sure. You were one of her best girls; you've spent the better half of your life working in that plush, little brothel.

Those rooms have seen your maturity sharpen.

Whatever. Fuckin' Yeleni. She put your fuckin' name on the deed. Then, she up and croaked. Slipped away in her sleep. Not exactly the way you'd imagined her going, but it happened. You always thought there would be more screaming, more clawing — a last, desperate cling to life just like she clung to her vanishing creams smuggled from Topside.

Eugh.

There's a whole pile sitting on your desk back at The Lilac Lounge. You can't seem to get rid of them fast enough. You thought handing off a dead woman's half-used beauty regime would be easier. Turns out it's quite the contrary.

...Perhaps Silco...?

You silence the intrusive quip with a quick flash of your lashes.

You have to admit — you anticipated the man before you to be a bit more... garish. From the way Yeleni had spoken of him, it seemed as if he was a pain to look at. From her stories, every interaction between the two verged on violent. Though, you suppose that eighty-six-year-old whore rarely had any sort of functional relationship with any of her coworkers, patrons, or protection. It was charming... in a twisted way.

His back is to you now. He is in the corner, by the phonograph. There's a cart there with a myriad of pretty little bottles and pretty little spirits. The offer of tea comes as a surprise.

From your place between the two of his enforcers, you shift in your chair. Your cross your legs and rest your knotted hands on your stockinged knee when your coat has parted.

"Sherry," you speak slowly; the point in your words remains pleasant if not professional, "If you have it."

Across the room, Silco takes pause. His own drink is forgotten for a moment — and he's suddenly struck with the fact you are not Yeleni. You're... well, little old Yeleni would have already threatened to castrate him for suggesting he didn't have her tea ready on her arrival.

"Not a fan?"

She'd been a mythic woman. Quite small, but mighty. Respected.

Why she left The Lilac Lounge to you remains to be seen.

He moves, the lip of the crystal tinkering neatly against the glass. He turns back, both drinks in hand.

"No," you explain lightly, "I can never get past the sting of the water."

You get a good look at him then, backlit by the jade windows that suck in the dim light from the Lanes outside. Your chin is held high, posturing rigid as a board. Silco is a bit surprised to see you've kept your coat on. The high collar brushes your cheek.

He offers the sherry and your gloved fingers brush his.

He holds your gaze.

You're a pretty thing. Beautiful, even. Not in a delicate sense, but in a pointed sort of way. Sharp. Perhaps it's the wicked way your eyes narrow ever so slightly when they meet his.

Hm. No, not bad to look at. Not at all, you reason.

His eyes lift and with a wave of his hand, he gestures for his men to wait outside. You watch, sherry raised to your lips, and only sip once the door has clicked shut. When your head swivels back, he's still watching you.

Finally, he leans back and ventures around the center table to his rouge loveseat.

The spirit stings your throat. It's nice.

"You know," comes the slow drawl as he leans and gathers a cigar before dropping down to the sofa, "Your predecessor would have threatened me four times over at this point in our meeting..."

You snort into your drink. Quiet. Lady-like, still. Your voice echoes in the crystal as you hesitate a sip.

"Would you prefer I begin now or later?"

Silco almost laughs. Almost. The corner of his lips tug. You see a flash of intrigue narrow his good eye. The other, burning bright as embers, stares on.

"Hardly," he leans forward, elbows on his knees. Gracefully, he clips the cigar and procures a heavy, gilded lighter from the same box. He snaps it open with a satisfying tink before lighting the expensive piece of tobacco. It's a gesture. Reminding you where you are.

"Yeleni thought highly of you."

It's Silco's turn to snort. "Did she now?"

"No," you cut it down, resting your glass on your knee as you watch him extend back like a cat. He props his arm up and takes a long drag of the cigar; your smile is cunning, "But, she never thought highly of anyone but herself. So, perhaps let me rephrase: she respected you."

Silco lets that settle in the air between the two of you.

"And you?" he asks after a moment.

You swirl the glass. Your gloves are sheer. Dashed with glimmer little bits of woven metal. It flashes silver in the jade light of the office. When you lift your eyes, they inadvertently land on a painting over his shoulder. Your face snaps, a tension breaking, at the sight of—

"A Friedlingmer?"

Silco blinks.

His head turns, following your gaze.

...Ah.

The painting of the idyllic topside pasture has ensnared your attention long enough for Silco follows the trail of your figure. The glitter along your cheekbones catches the light as a stream of light filters in from the afternoon.

"It was a gift," he speaks into his whiskey, ignoring the stroke of admiration that blooms in the wake of your interest.

"It's beautiful," you speak slowly, eyes still trained on the intricate frame holding the painting, "And rare. He only completed eight paintings in his time spent Topside. You're the sole owner of one, it seems."

"...You're an academic, then?" Silco prods, "It's not often I have the pleasure of holding company who can speak on Friedlingmer's residencies."

Your laugh is melodic. Like a diamond. Pretty and rough and rare. "You flatter me, Silco."

His name is honey-sweet on your tongue. It rolls off easier than you mean for it. Silco's lip tugs again.

"It was merely an honest inquiry."

"No, no, I — I'm a hobbyist, if you will," you wave it off, your attention turned back to the man before you, "But, at the end of the day, we all chase the beauty of things we cannot have, don't we?"

Oh.

Lights alive, you're something.

...He gets it now.

This is dangerous. This little feeling that's nibbling at his heartstrings. This is — fuck.

Silco clears his throat after a long moment.

Stick to business.

"Yeleni and I had an understanding," he speaks carefully as his cigar burns between his fore and middle finger. The smoke rises up, dancing in fine lines of smoke around his face, "I take it you were aware."

"I'm looking to extend the terms of the agreement."

Silco almost chokes.

He smothers his surprise, masking it as a clearing of his throat. He leans forward, a hand falling along a crossed knee. He's a lithe man — but long. Tall. Lean and sharp. Handsome, still. You can't help but feel a bit of a bitterness creep up. Yeleni should have warned you as much.

"Our agreement was extensive—"

"I want security present for twelve hours every other day," you say sharply, as the web of the conversation begins to unravel just as you'd hoped, "For an increase to ten percent of our earnings."

"I don't have the men for that."

"Lying is unbecoming."

Your gazes connect and it's white-hot. Like gasoline on open flame.

Silco almost snarls.

"Twenty percent."

"—As if I'd give you anything more than eleven."

...

He misses Yeleni.

But, it seems you're not finished — and for yet another time in the ten minutes, he realizes just why Yeleni left The Lilac Lounge to you.

"We're vulnerable. Shimmer puts us in a dangerous position. The work we do is sought after and demand hits a new peak with every month. Protecting us puts good faith in you. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Silco exhales. Then, he takes a long drag of his cigar.

"Ten percent," he affirms after a stretch of contemplation. His yield is granted with a small tip of his head; his eyes are roaming your face, "And I'll give you ten hours, three men, everyday."

Your brow lifts ever-so-slightly.

"...That's kind of you, Silco."

"Consider it good faith," he remarks dryly before lowering his voice, "I... owe Yeleni as much. She... She was a good woman. And I'm sorry for your loss."

His lips quirk when you bark out a laugh. This one is less lady-like. Honest, maybe.

"As I said before," you harp, "Lying is unbecoming."

"Please," comes the rather comedic urge for a shred of composure, "She's dead—"

"Isn't that a blessing?"

Before Silco can split the air with his own dry laughter, you continue.

"We'll settle, then," you offer your hand across the gap, "Eleven percent for ten hours, three men, every day."

A hum of appreciation settles in Silco's chest. Your insistence on a fair settlement is... different from his day-to-day. Based on principle.

He sets his glass down, drops his cigar to the ashtray, and leans. He catches your hand in a warm shake. Firm. Sturdy. The foundation of a great partnership.

He ignores the burn that clings to his skin when you pull away.

"I appreciate your time, Silco."

The sherry is slipped back and finished in a swallow. His eyes follow the gesture.

"You're a busy man — I won't keep you," you explain as you gather yourself up and gently offer the empty crystal glass to him. The rim is stained with the painted color from your lips. Your perfume threatens to drown the office in a delicate femininity that's all but lost on the space. It stokes a frightening sense of longing in him.

He stands quickly and rounds the table.

"Regardless, I appreciate your time, madame," comes the courteous reply, holding more poise than the official title; and while not entirely unwelcome, the title of madam is still one that you're not used to. Madam of The Lilac Lounge. It has quite the ring to it. You're not too sure of the tune, though. Not yet.

Then, a slow reach for your hand. You allow him to take it.

He offers a chaste press of his lips to your knuckles. The sheer material there does little to save your skin from going alight at the heat. His eyes, all the while, bore into you.

Your expression flits into something akin to interest. It's fleeting. It's replaced with a slow kiss of your lashes to your cheek. You bow your head.

"Be well, Silco."

"Until next time, madame."

When — a handful of days later —a carefully wrapped parcel arrives in the arms of two of Silco's men, you find yourself smothering surprise. It's big, and as the two muscle it through the brothel at the earned attention of nearly the whole house of staff, you can't help but hiss and ha at the roughness with which they treat it.

There's a note attached, tucked into the pretty blue twine.

FOR YOU, A GIFT. REVERENTLY YOURS, SILCO

You pull back a torn corner, and then immediately slap it back.

Your head snaps to the doorway of your office, where a gaggle of your workers have gathered. They stare at you owlishly. Your eyes are a mile wide, you reason, because you're met with an excited chatter of gossip. They leer in, rushing forward in a sea of masked, painted-on lovers.

It's a Friedlingmer.

Perhaps this whole thing was all the trouble it was worth.

By 'thing', you quite candidly mean the fact you're now the owner of an original pasture piece by Friedlingmer and The Lilac Lounge.

And apparently the interest of Silco himself.

[sin-oh]

Goddd the level to which they managed to capture the depth of vulnerability in the animation and posing of these moments is sooooo 😭

[sin-oh]

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 2x03 - “Finally Got The Name Right”

[sin-oh]

the paint doesn't move the way the light reflects ; suguru geto

synopsis; when the king puts you under the supervision of a dashing knight, you promise to make his job as difficult as possible. unfortunately, suguru geto is the patient sort.

word count; 21.1k (this accidentally turned into a novella idk how it happened nobody look at me :’3 this is a love letter to sugu ok…)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, knight!sugu x royalty!reader, royalty au (not accurate to any time period ever), technically a bodyguard au, slowburn, reader is a brat and suguru likes it a little more than he should, reader also has thinly veiled daddy issues, protective sugu :3, he goes feral in one part (descriptions of violence and bloodshed), reader gets briefly kidnapped lol, very fluffy overall though!!, includes shifting povs & time-skips, also lots and lots of devotion, knight!sugu is real & beautiful & loves you specifically <33

a/n; HAPPY late BDAY SUGU MY BABY THE LOVE OF MY LIFE this fic has been in the works for a WHILE now and means a lot to me much like sugu himself :’3 dedicated to my beloved @kissxcore for infecting me w this concept & also my dear @mossmurdock for bringing knight!sugu into my life, both of u have made the brainrot infinitely worse and i will never be free (and ofc @softgirlgonehaywire & @dollsuguru & @jtkys for being the sweetest always) I LOVE U ALL!!!!!!!!

like most things, it begins and ends with a dream.

images form in the depths of your subconscious, wild and vivid, splattering on the canvas of your mind. a dream of cold metal, dark thickets, iron-scented skin — and a knight. 

(or… a wolf?)

before you is a small clearing. trees sprout from the rugged grounds, blooming proudly, clogging up the wool-coated sky. all around you lie empty, discarded suits of armor, dirty with rust and something that smells of death. wilted sunflowers stumble under their own weight, and dragonflies buzz in a frenzy, manic, driven to hysteria. in the distance you think you hear the shrieking of ravens.

and there’s a knight, just ahead, tall and imposing, covered in steel from head to toe. holding a blinding sword, facing the sky, doing nothing to stop the pitter patter of raindrops ricocheting off his burganet. you stand by the entrance of the woods, and watch him in silence. 

he looks a little lonely. 

and in comes the wolf. gracious, growling, big and bad, snarling and showing off the white of its fangs. dragging its claws against the ground, unruly fur ruffled by the harsh breeze; widening its maw, a silent fury on its tongue. from this angle, it looks a little like a grin.

the wolf begins to chase the knight. or maybe it’s the knight chasing the wolf — you can’t really tell. they run in circles around each other, like the sun and the moon, an orbit of violence, matching their steps. almost in harmony — almost, but not quite, because suddenly they’re closing in on you, great and ugly, beasts wearing different hides, and —

and that’s when you wake up.

”your highness!” 

a groan pushes past your lips, groggy with fatigue, and your eyelids flicker open like the drawing of a flimsy curtain. a series of mismatched little blinks, until your vision clears. 

above you waits a familiar face; impatient. one of the maids, your foggy brain tells you. and she isn’t pleased.

but all you do is drag your limbs up to cover your pillow-creased face, sluggishly, muttering beneath your breath. ”a wolf…”

silence. 

the maid tilts her head, with a furrow of her brows. 

”… excuse me?”

”there was a wolf,” you echo, a dreamy exhale muffled against the skin of your palm. stifling a yawn. ”and a guy… he was cool.” 

she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. settling back into her usual rhythm. mildy berating. ”did you have another one of your dreams?” she asks, a little irritated, and for a second you think you hear a tick-tock ticking down. ”at any rate — you need to get up. the king and queen demand your presence.”

ah. of course.

a huff, displeased, even as you force yourself into a sitting position. stretching your limbs like a grumpy feline. ”demands…” you murmur, a click of your tongue. ”they think they can just wake me up whenever they want? at the crack of dawn?”

”it’s 11 a.m, your highness.”

”early as hell,” you rasp, willfully tuning out her murmur of mind your language. letting your legs hang off the bed. ”what do they want, anyway?”

following your silent cue, she hums, walking towards the edge of the room. picking up your discarded blouse, and bringing it to you. ”i was told it was of utmost importance,” is all she says, lifting the fabric as if getting ready to dress you.

”i can do that myself,” you hiss, snatching the white silk from her outstretched hands. as always, she does nothing but sigh, sigh, sigh. it’s all they ever do. ”i’m not a toddler.”

from your position, still cozied up in bed, on messy sheets and fluffy pillows — you can see the view beyond your translucent window’s glass. a sky so gray it’s almost comforting, dark clouds forming in the distance, silently ruminating. when the maid pushes it open, and a cold breeze slips through the gap, you can smell the rain; heavy, earthy, daffodils and oak wood. in the distance, sunflower fields seek shelter from the downpour. 

but your eyes remain glued to the woods. far ahead, but still close enough to see — the woods you long for. the ones you’ll never get to see up close. 

a bitter taste blooms on your tongue. 

(spitefully, your teeth sink into the tender flesh of your bottom lip.)

”fine,” comes a heavy sigh, ruefully resigned. forcing yourself into compliancy. before you can change your mind, you hop off the mattress, running your fingers through tousled strands of hair. ”i’ll go see them.”

and she brightens, visibly, disapproving frown smoothed away with the breeze. for now. ”thank you. they are worried, i’ll have you know.”

a scoff, as you cross the threshold of your private quarters. humorous. ”i bet they are.” 

”your highness,” she calls, following close behind. her tone is reprimanding, now; you will yourself not to shrink. ”we almost lost you.”

”i almost got kidnapped,” you huff. ”not the same thing.”

again, that exasperated sigh. it’s a wonder her lungs haven’t run out of air. ”do you have any idea who that man was?” 

the question makes your mind still. shifting gears, a clockwork coming to life, repeating it inside your head — do you have any idea who that man was? 

”… he was hot.”

sigh. you hear it before it comes, and raise your lips on instinct. 

”no, i mean it!” you ensure her, throwing a fleeting glance behind you. ”he just had that rugged look about him, you know? the scar and everything…” a blissful little exhale, as you gush over your would-be killer. ”what a waste. if only he had gotten away.”

”with you in tow?” the maid quips, raising a brow. her words are steeped in irony.

”of course!” another disapproving glance. ”i mean, did you see those biceps —”

”behave.”

with a flutter of your puffy sleeves, you turn around to face her. and ah — there it is. the hardness of her jaw, those frosty pupils, the impending signs of her dwindling patience. you can see it, hear it, that eerie tick-tock signaling the breaching of her limit. all humans have one; a clockwork heart, of sorts, ticking down to the moment they run out of leftover kindness to give unruly heirs. 

over the years, you’ve gotten expertly good at making the clock tick quicken. a skill you’re very proud of.

”and what if i don’t?” you bite back, just barely restraining your growing grin. delighted at the attention. ”he had nice biceps! what, am i not allowed to tell the truth?”

and the tick-tock quickens. she stills, just behind you, hands on her hips. frustration bubbling beneath her sharp syllables. ”my god, you are impossible today!”

for a moment, you stop to look at her. weighing your options. should you reel it back in, try and appease her? or keep pushing? the answer, as always, is push. it’s all you’ll ever do.

so you turn on your heel, and take a step forward, a spiteful grin curved into your lips. ”deal with it, or leave.” a beat. ”i don’t remember asking you to accompany me.”

before you round the corner, your ears pick up on one final harsh sigh. she makes no move to follow you.

(hmph.)

”where is your maid?”

in front of you stands a throne, proud and luxurious, polished marble, two seats right next to each other. the quarters of the royal pair are the same as always, vivid paintings hanging from every wall in sight, wolf pelts thrown over tables and windowsills. the scent of dried lavender seeps through the air, suffocating you. 

and, of course, the king. speaking to you with the same judgemental voice as always; one you’ve grown painfully accustomed to. 

”i wanted her to get me breakfast,” is the lie you decide on, finely tailored in white. just to make sure she doesn’t get into any actual trouble. ”you didn’t exactly give me time to eat any.”

the king sighs, mild disappointment laced into the breath. nothing new. when he says your name, it comes out sounding like a bad joke. ” — you aren’t a child anymore. one day you’ll be ruling this kingdom; forcing the maids to do your bidding won’t win you any favours.” 

”mhm.” absently, you fidget with the sleeves of your blouse. not quite listening. ”so, what did you want? it’s not often i’m allowed here.”

an evil glint shines in your eyes, for a moment. you cast a meaningful glance at the maid by your father’s side — his personal favorite. 

”don’t you have, ah…” you taste the words on your tongue. ”more pressing matters to attend to?”

he doesn’t flinch. as always, he pretends not to know that you know — that everyone knows. 

yet he still gives you that cold, cold look, colder than the howls of wind beyond the castle walls, cold enough to send a shiver down your spine. it makes you want to push, push, push. break the clockwork in half.

but he’s wise enough to follow your lead. “let me get to the point, then,” he cranes his neck, showing off the fox pelt snug around his shoulders. ”the queen and i thought it best to hire a new knight for you.”

you blink. eyelashes fluttering. all you can hear is the pitter patter of rain against the windowpane. 

then you groan.

”another one?” you whine, barely resisting the urge to stomp your feet on the floor. ”please, no. it’s such a pain getting rid of them. you know they won’t last long!”

”we aren’t talking about any ordinary knight,” he tuts, as monotone as ever. ignoring your little temper tantrum. ”after what happened with toji zenin, we aren’t taking any chances.”

you tilt your head. confused, for a moment. ”toji?” the gears of your mind turn, clicking into place; zenin. a family of assassins, a man with a scar on his bottom lip. ”ohhh — the hottie.”

your father pretends not to hear you. 

”it was a close call,” he hums, and you muster the strength not to crack another joke about his biceps. it takes restraint. ”we need someone who can protect you properly. indefinitely, from even the stealthiest of assassins. so…”

your eyes meet his. gazes overlapping, the same colour, one above and one below. he’s always, always towered over you. for as long as you remember. 

that is what royalty means — absolute dominion. 

(it makes you want to curl into a ball.)

”today, you’ll be meeting with the greatest knight.” he says the words with an odd sense of pride, an inner satisfaction. ”he’ll be here any moment. i thought it best for you to get acquainted as soon as possible.”

a moment passes. you’re broken out of your bout of compliance, like a rubber band snapping. a clock tick quickening. ”wait, what?” you gape. ”father —”

”your majesty.” 

…

the correction is stern. gritting your teeth, you force the words from out your throat. ”… your majesty,” there’s a slight grumble to your voice, ”what the hell? now? i haven’t even —”

”you have no choice in this matter,” he cuts you off. coldly, coldly, coldly. ”behave, and there won’t be any complications.”

behave.

behave, behave, behave. it’s all they ever want from you.

(you might as well be a pet.)

the queen is silent, as always. eerily so, not saying a word, like a puppet on a string. she hasn’t looked you in the eye even once so far, not even a passing glance. not like you’d expect her to. her clockwork heart stopped beating for you a long time ago. 

automatons, the both of them. making decisions for you, like there isn’t a sliver of rational thought in your brain. how irritating.

you’re just about to part your lips, when —

”… am i interrupting?”

you still.

a velvety voice. silky, smooth, tailored by the finest seamstress — tucked between the slightest raspy vowel, a hint of something deeper. it sounds like honey, wine, a molten mass of spring clouds. 

the king ahead of you brightens, suddenly, lips curling up into a smile. it looks almost warm; you didn’t know he was capable of making that kind of expression. ”ah, suguru!” he calls out to the source of the noise. ”no, certainly not. forgive me for the short notice.”

when you turn around, you see a knight.

he’s beautiful. gorgeous, even. fair skin, sharp facial features, no scars to be seen. a sword hangs in a scabbard by his hip, and he’s wearing a set of armor, still glistening with the aftermaths of the rain beating down outside. his hair cascades down the metal like a black river, loose and silky, a single strand obscuring his pretty face. and his eyes are a soothing shade of brown; you’re almost certain they’d look warm, if there was any sunlight to engulf them. as it is, in the shadow of a murky spring morning, they’re a dark cedar, almost obsidian. but they look kind. 

and they’re fixed on the king. he’s smiling, too, a dangerous little tilt. disgustingly charming. he hangs his head in a bow, hand on his heart — reverent.

(ah. he’s one of those knights.)

”my king,” the strange knight greets, tongue wrapping around the vowels like a dragon curling around a pile of gold. ”not at all. i’m always grateful for an opportunity to see you.”

(oh god. it’s even worse than you thought.)

”i should say the same of you,” the king echoes, with a warmth that you’re wholly unaccustomed to. your stomach churns, swirling with discomfort. ”our nation’s pride and joy.”

the knight chuckles; muffled by his closed fist. he’s feigning embarrassment, you can tell. ”you flatter me,” he purrs, words flowing smoothly from his lips. too smoothly. ”i’m simply doing my duty as one of your subjects. but, needless to say — i’m honoured to have earned your respect.”

finally, his gaze shifts to you. and you think he must notice how disgusted you are, the reproach you feel for him, that silent contempt. because you aren’t trying to hide it; it’s there, clear as day, in the crease of your brow, your frosty pupils. lips pursed, like they’re aching to bare and to bite.

but he continues to smile. warm, still, like a mellow summer breeze. a well of pizzicato drops.

you feel a little nauseous.

”ah, and you must be the royal heir?” a tilt of his head, knowing. a shimmer of recognition painted in those ashen eyes. ”or should i say…. my liege.” 

he walks towards you, in long strides, slow and steady, only to get down on one knee. ew. ”forgive me; my name is suguru geto. your knight, from this day forth.” his palm unfurls, cedar eyes crinkling with feigned endearment. holding it out towards the subject of his newfound devotion. ”i’m delighted to finally meet you.”

(suguru geto. you’ve heard of him, of course. who hasn’t?)

his hand stills in the air, waiting patiently for yours; to bring it to his glossy lips. but you don’t do anything. nothing, other than studying his smile, picture perfect, tailor-made, sweet enough to melt on your tongue. so sweet you know it must be at least a little bit fake — the smile of a liar. 

it’s a smile you know well.

so you mimic it, a bitter glint in your eyes, only for your hands to retreat to your pockets. and out comes a purr. ”you’re a bad actor.”

silence. the knight doesn’t flinch, not even close, but he blinks, a flutter of his dark eyelashes. like a raven taking flight. that everlasting smile never falters, but for just a second, a clock-tick or two, you swear you catch the slightest hint of something flickering through his keen iris.

interest?

”forgive them, suguru,” the king is quick to chip in, finally stepping down from his throne to join you on the floor. the queen doesn’t move, but she gives suguru a fond smile, and it makes your grimace deepen. ”they woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning. and they’re a bit of a problem child — i’m sure you’ve heard.”

that makes you snicker, silently. maybe just a little bit smug. you’re sure it must be a headache for him to deal with.

”i can’t say i haven’t,” suguru chuckles, raising himself up from the marble floor. your smile falls. ”but it’s not an issue. i understand.”

he looks at you, really looks at you, and you give him an unimpressed stare. wholly disinterested. trying not to squirm under his scrutiny. 

”i’m sure it must feel suffocating — being under this kind of supervision.” he gives you a tilt of his head, strands of charcoal following the movement. smooth, like a waltz, one you didn’t agree to. ”isn’t it?”

ah. the sympathy card.

before you can answer, he bows; hand on his heart. knights and their rituals. ”i’m at your service, my liege. if i make you uncomfortable, at any point, just tell me.” once more, he meets your gaze, a sincerity in his own — reserved just for you. ”really.”

… ugh.

to your right comes a pleased voice, deep and satisfied, as self-affirming as ever. ”i knew i could entrust them to you,” the king speaks, placing a palm on your shoulder. you try not to flinch. ”aren’t you grateful? this handsome, kind man is all yours.”

a sharp scoff is all you can muster, nails digging into the skin of your palm. but suguru only chuckles, good-natured.

they continue to speak, about this and that. you tune out most of it, caught up in preparing for the long headache ahead. sure, you’re an expert at getting knights to quit, but it takes time. weeks, sometimes, just to make them finally crack, push and push until their patience reaches its limit. and suguru seems resilient. more than anything, he seems thoroughly loyal to the king; that really doesn’t bode well for you.

but before you can formulate a step-by-step guide to making his job a living hell, the sound of your name snaps you out of your trance.

it’s the king, of course, as always. you hate that you still instinctively respond to his call. like an obedient puppy. ”show suguru to your quarters. he’ll be accompanying you indefinitely, from now on. don't give him any trouble.” his voice finally sounds cold again; a warning. ”i’ll hear about it.”

(indefinitely.)

a moment passes. then you sigh, deep and heavy, haphazardly hiding a roll of your eyes. ”yeah, yeah, yeah,” you cross your arms. ”i got it.”

suguru meets your furrowed brows with something gentle, a soothing little smile. offering his arm, for you to hold on to. knights and their rituals. ”shall we?”

but you brush past him. stubborn in your independence, in your desire to make this as discomforting for him as it is for you. ”follow me,” is all you say, a dissatisfied huff. loud enough to pick up on.

to your great displeasure, he matches your hurried pace. side by side, as you walk down the halls, the clicking of his shoes echoing against the marble. a shadow you can’t shine away; one that’ll stay with you indefinitely. you feel his gaze burn into you.

”my lord.”

”don’t talk to me,” you sigh, sharp like the sword by his hip. a low click of your tongue. ”just so you know, i didn’t agree to this.”

”that was my question, actually,” he grins, ever so slightly. fingertips tapping against his scabbard. ”i am sorry, you know. i meant what i said — i’m sure it’s difficult for you.” he casts you another one of those meaningful glances, a meaning you have no intention of discerning. ”but i have my orders.”

you bite back a laugh. ”you guys love those, huh?” when you turn your head to face him, still walking forward, he’s met with a taunting smirk. ”your little orders.”

but his smile doesn’t falter. damn.

”not a fan of knights?” he asks, instead, a playful lilt to his syrupy voice. coaxing, accommodating. infuriating.

”nope.” your footsteps quicken — but he keeps up, effortlessly. curse those abnormally long legs. ”you’re all just bootlickers. especially you.”

”oh?”

”don’t oh? me,” you snap, practically growling, ”like you weren’t seconds away from making out with the king back there. it’s all so fake.” the comment makes the corners of his lip quirk up, but you don’t turn around to see it. ”now that you’re alone with me, you’re already acting way less uptight, see?”

he hums. ”i figured it’d make you feel more at ease.”

”god, will you just cut it out?” a hiss breaks out of your throat, sharp and exasperated. tired, drained. you just want to go back to sleep. ”quit acting like you care about what i think. you’ll do whatever the king asks of you — that’s all you really care about.”

suguru stays silent, this time. matching your steps, observing you silently, out of the corner of his eye. the frown on your lips, the crease between your brows. etching them into his memory. you’re pissed, that much he can tell. and you definitely, definitely don’t like him. 

(”you’re a bad actor.”)

the knight comes to a standstill. parting his lips, enough for his voice to flow through, silken sheets and molten honey. a raspy tilt he tries his best to hide.

but his words carry a sincerity he could never fake. 

”from now on, i serve you.”

when the clicking of his shoes against cold marble flooring fades away, you halt. turning around, hesitantly, quirking a questioning brow. rain beats on beyond the window to your left, flicking against the glass, droplets clinging to the translucent surface. marigold petals kiss the windows in a flurry of cream and orange, fluttering about with the harsh bites of the wind, carried from the castle’s orchard. the endless hallway you find yourselves in smells of rainwater and spring.

suguru looks steadfast, where he’s standing, immovable. a little like a pillar of salt. when he speaks it sounds like he’s reciting a scripture.

”i’m loyal to the king. i have to follow his orders.” 

there’s something about his words that you can’t quite pinpoint. is it guilt or pride? ”but i am at your service. certain things are set in stone, but not others. i’ll let you decide how this goes.”

the hallway goes silent. he smiles, again, smaller this time. somehow more genuine.

”from now on, i’m your knight.” the pitter patter of rain mashes with the steady beating of a clock; rhythmic, soothing, a lullaby of rust and time. ”that’s all. i won’t be anything else.”

you stare. lips pursed, awaiting a clarification, but it doesn’t come. he’s giving you time to respond.

(he’s your knight, now. indefinitely yours.)

an inhale. the clock hands of your heart begin to move. ”in that case,” you exhale, lips curling up into a taunting smile. pleased with yourself. ”i promise to be the most insufferable lord a knight has ever had. i won’t make your job easy for you.”

and suguru only chuckles. raspy, like the bark of a tree, claw marks on the ground. ”good,” he grins, eyes rich with mirth, golden pears hanging off the branches. ”i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

he looks sincere. sounds sincere. all you do is blink, a sense of frustration nibbling at your heart, but the knight before you doesn’t falter. he only offers his arm to you, once more; a silent step towards reconciliation.

you watch him, silently. 

then you’re turning on your heel, swiftly, a low grumble at the base of your throat. ignoring him and his offer, walking towards your room with irritated steps that fade as you turn the corner.

behind you, suguru’s smile only grows.

”good morning, your highness.”

blinking sleepily, still regaining your ability to form coherent thoughts, all you can do is stare. studying the figure above you, towering over your half-asleep form, the deadpan expression on your face.

black hair, and amber eyes. a disgustingly charming smile. 

the gears of your mind finally click into place.

a whine flows from your lips, meek and disapproving, and you roll over to your side. pulling the covers over your head, as if to protect you from the existence of your newly hired knight. so it wasn’t just a bad dream.

but he doesn’t fade away, like an apparition. he stays right by your bed, crouching down next to it. you feel the weight of the mattress shift when he rests his elbow on the cushion. ”still too early?” he asks, soft enough not to grate your sensitive ears. ”i was told you usually get up around this time…”

a muffled groan. ”leave.”

”i’m afraid i can’t,” he hums, but you don’t sense much remorse. ”i’m not supposed to let you out of my sight for more than brief intervals at a time… that’s one thing i can’t compromise on.”

”i don’t care,” you whine, petulant. tightening your grip on the blanket surrounding you, desperate to savour the leftovers of your fuzzy dreams. ”’m not getting up…”

a click of his tongue. quiet, contemplative. until he decides on a course of action.

”would you like me to bring you breakfast, then?”

…

slowly, your eyes flicker open, consciousness beginning to stir. the tasty temptation rouses you from your half-slumber, ever so slightly; because he sounds sincere. he sounds like he really will bring you breakfast, if you just give him the order. 

it’s tempting. dangerously so. 

(how long has it been since one of the maids actually bothered to serve you breakfast?)

”… whatever,” you croak, finally. weighing the value of your own response — putting effort into not sounding too excited. (but you are.) ”sure. do what you want, just let me sleep.”

a relieved little breath slips from suguru’s lips, as he watches the lump under the blanket stir. ”alright,” he breathes. ”what would you like, my lord?”

(suddenly, you get an idea.)

a smug grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief on your mind. ”figure it out yourself,” you chirp, awfully pleased with yourself. 

silence. 

then, you hear him hum — rising to his feet with a quiet groan. ”understood,” he quips. ”i’ll be back as soon as possible, your highness.”

when you hear the creaking of the door, as he steps over the threshold, you barely restrain the urge to kick your legs in victory. now he’s sure to get you the wrong breakfast; and then you can be as difficult as you please, demanding something else, over and over. an ungrateful, spoiled little brat. that’ll definitely make him quit. 

— sadly, it seems you were underestimating him. just a tiny, tiny bit.

before you, on a silver tray, lays a wide variety of breakfast foods. everything from syrupy pancakes and buttery croissants to neatly cut sandwiches and porridge, slices of fruit and fresh lemonade, coffee with cream and sugar, tiny jars of marmalade and jam. sparkling, glittering, begging to be devoured. handmade, you can tell, meticulously crafted by someone who knows what they’re doing. with a gulp, you attempt not to openly salivate — you had no clue the kitchen workers were this talented. 

for just a moment, you’re entirely speechless. he really went ahead and got you some of everything.

stumbling for the right words, any words, the only thing that escapes your throat is a meek huff. meant to sound displeased, but coming out just a little awestruck. ”this is… way, way too much. are you insane?”

he only shrugs. a sweet smile on his lips, sharp jaw resting on the heel of his palm. ”well, you wouldn’t give me any specifics,” he reminds you, a bit too smug for your liking. ”just eat what you like. i’ll keep your preferences in mind.”

you want to protest, want to put up a fight. want to resist his charms, his little peace offering.

but your stomach growls, suddenly. loud enough that you’re sure he hears it, but you don’t turn around to see any silent laughter — just picking up the fork, embarrassed, eager to just get rid of the ache in your gut. eager to get a taste of the delicacies in front of you. with hesitance, you cut into one of the fluffy pancakes, slathered with syrup, trying to ignore his expectant gaze. biting into it with your eyes closed.

when the sweet taste curls around your tongue, you physically feel yourself perk up. letting your eyes flutter open, your eyebrows raised, a sweetness that makes you sit up straighter. it practically melts in your mouth, honeyed and buttery, and it takes all your willpower to withhold a blissed out little sigh. 

it must be evident, on your features. because suguru sounds amused when he asks; ”good?”

”... better than usual, i guess.”

despite your half-assed attempt at hiding how pleased you are, his ever-present smile extends. ”oh, really?” he leans back in his chair, right next to the bed. exhaling in relief. ”i’m glad. i was worried my cooking wouldn’t be to your tastes.”

…

you pale.

silently, both awestruck and horrified, you look up to meet his teasing gaze. ”wait. you…” a pause. silent, palpable, dreading his answer. ”… made this?” 

”yes.”

another pause. 

”… like. all of it?”

”mhm.”

your gaze falls down to seek solace in your lap. avoiding his own, biting down on your lip, not quite enough to sting. fuck — you accidentally complimented his handmade breakfast. not off to a great start.

wallowing in your silent loss, you simply dig in; desperate to savour it, despite the lingering taste of failure on your tongue. once you’ve sipped the last of your coffee, foamy and rich, the knight to your right speaks up.

”so, your highness,” he begins. tactful, careful. clearing his throat. ”now that you’ve woken up a bit… and, forgive me if i’m overstepping, but —” he searches for your guarded gaze, playing with the beginnings of a smile. ”i was thinking it’d be good for us to get to know each other better.”

”ugh.”

a chuckle — seriously, does nothing offend this man? — flits past his lips. ”oh, don’t be like that, your highness. don’t you think it —”

”cut it out.” you shoot him a glare, voice set to a shivering tilt. ”stop acting like some perfect servant. it’s so obvious you’re playing it up.” a tiny huff, as you pop an apple slice into your mouth. ”makes me sick.”

”… right. you called my acting bad, before.”

”it is,” you nod, a mocking imitation on your tongue. eyes fluttering shut as you bring a hand to your chest. ”oooh, look at me, i’m so humble and loyal! why, of course i don’t mind being summoned with no prior notice! would you like me to lick your shoes, my sweet king?”

and, honestly, you expect him to get at least a little bit angry. the last guy certainly was.

but suguru laughs, suddenly, from the bottom of his gut — a genuine sound. sunshine spilling from his lips, amusement laced together with the octaves. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, like the leaves of a golden ginkgo tree. ”okay, okay,” he puts his hands up, as if readying for a smooth surrender. still amused. ”i’ll try to be more… unguarded, then. would that satisfy you?”

you give him a look. 

he returns it with a smile. ”i’ll take that as a yes,” is all he croons, reaching a hand out. it hangs still in the air, waiting patiently for a response. a familiar sight.

you blink. looking at it, silently, as if trying to solve a puzzle in the pattern of his fingertips. 

then you sigh. ”for the last time, i’m not letting you kiss my hand, you —”

”a handshake,” he cuts you off. soft, a tilt of his head; awfully charming. reassuring you. ”no kissing involved.”

a handshake.

(come to think of it, you don’t think anyone’s ever tried to shake your hand before. it’s something you see other people do; maids, knights, butlers. people on equal ground with each other.)

after a moment of silence, you avert your gaze. there’s a slight, slight flush to your cheeks, one you hope stays hidden from his keen eyes. you grumble, intent on not appeasing him. ”… i’m not shaking your hand, either.”

suguru quirks a brow, smile yet to fall, waiting a few moments more until he gives in. ”you are difficult,” he chuckles, and it sounds almost pleased. ”kento was right.”

kento? now, why does that sound familiar…? 

”— but that’s okay. i look forward to getting to know you better, either way.” his hand retreats to his lap, pliant. ”eventually.”

”that’s not happening.”

”oh?” you swear that smile of his grows, just a little. a man who enjoys a good challenge. humming, closing his eyes for a brief second, switching tactics as if shifting gears. ”then, tell me — is there anything you’d like to know about me?”

hell no, is what you want to say. and you almost, almost do. eager to move one step ahead of him, stubborn in your desire to scare him off.

but then you remember the tale.

so you still, ever so slightly, and suguru leans forward. by a hair, noticing your expression, maybe, the curiosity simmering in your veins. seeping out, little by little, and even though you know you shouldn’t — you just can’t resist the temptation to ask…

”… is it true?”

he tilts his head.

”the … you know.” you move your hands, a bit, as if hoping they’ll say the words for you. they don’t. ”your sword. did you really…” a pause, as your eager gaze trails down to his hip, the scabbard attached to his belt. and then a gulp. 

”… pull it out of a stone?”

a series of silent blinks. then suguru chuckles — dripping with fresh amusement, a glimmer of teeth behind his lips. ”oh, so you’ve heard?”

and, like a pair of shooting stars, your eyes flicker over to meet his. almost gleaming with newfound excitement, a little erratic. ”is — is it true?”

”it’s an old folktale,” he’s quick to intercept. ”gets said about basically every great knight… or, what the public deems as good, anyhow.”

(ah. the humble facade slipped away.)

in a matter of seconds, you seem to deflate, slumping back until your spine meets the headboard. sulking silently. ”so you didn't pull your sword out of a rock?” you huff, mood souring again, a lemony flavour in your veins. ”lame.”

”stone,” he corrects, unperturbed. ”and i'm afraid not.” he gives you another one of his placating smiles, barely concealed amusement swimming in his amber eyes. ”i pulled mine from an oak tree.”

…

”wait, really?”

the gleam in your eyes is back. suguru almost, almost feels bad.

”depends,” he quips, shooting you a lazy grin. ”how gullible are you, my lord?”

(... oh. he was teasing you.)

an embarrassed heat crawls up your neck, rooting itself into the column of your throat, and all you can do to distract him from it is to scoff. sharply, as if hoping just the sound will be enough to cut into his smooth skin. ”whatever.”

suguru continues to smile, crows’ feet by his eyes, something deliberate in his silent stare. so you stumble for something, anything to say.

”also, can you quit the my lord stuff?” you settle on, taking a shallow sip of the lemonade. sour and sweet, nice and chilled on your tongue. ”it’s creepy.”

he blinks. a flutter of his dark lashes, fingers tapping at his bended knee. he looks contemplative, for a moment. ”does it make you uncomfortable?” he asks, tilting his head. ”i can stick to my liege, if that’s better. just say the word.” 

”god, you’re so annoying,” you groan, licking the lemony residue off your lips. ”just use my name.”

suddenly, suguru stills. fingertips frozen, for a moment, no longer tapping at his thigh. he traps his bottom lip between his teeth, a hesitant hum crawling up the confines of his throat. 

”that….” he trails off, thumb absentmindedly smoothing over the leather of his scabbard. ”seems a little much.”

when you turn to look at him, he seems a little put off. uncomfortable, maybe — or just caught off guard? it’s hard to get a read on him. for someone who smiles so often, his emotions don’t appear very bright.

a pang of something grasps onto your clockwork heart, and a frown pulls at your bottom lip. frustration gnawing at your veins. ”you’re here to service me, aren’t you?” you ask, with a shallow huff. ”just do as i say.”

”well, i still have my boundaries.” suguru leans back, crossing his legs, gazing at you with slightly lidded eyes. ”and, on paper — i’m only here to protect you. the servicing is my own choice.” 

a very, very judgemental look. he returns it with a tug of his lips. 

”… you really do like being ordered around, don’t you?”

suguru shrugs. playful. ”makes me feel needed,” he purrs, watching you wolf down the breakfast he made.

once you’ve had your fill, he’s quick to gather the silver tray in his steady arms, and you do your very best to hold back from thanking him for the meal. it aches a little, but you can’t give in — you don’t have a choice. you can’t allow yourself to be anything other than the most ungrateful, annoying royal in the kingdom.

anything to snap his clockwork heart in half.

— a week passes with no particular developments. you try your damndest to bother him, but suguru is stubborn. stubborn enough that you’re starting to doubt he’ll ever leave you alone, no matter how much you ignore him, or hiss at him, or whine at him to make you an annoyingly specific assortment of breakfast foods.

he never stops smiling, no matter how bothersome you’re being. the tick-tock of his patience remains unbroken. 

(so for now, you figure you’ll just have to adjust.)

a sense of contentment simmers in the open air, when suguru knocks at your door, waiting for a groan and a grouchy come in. it takes you a few moments longer to respond than what he’s used to, and he notes that you sound a little less irritated when you do.

as he steps over the threshold, bowing his head instinctevely, he’s met with the sight of you fully immersed. holding a paintbrush between your fingers, lifting it, movements delicate, self-assured. like it comes to you without thinking. you’re seated right by the window, enough for the would-be daylight to flicker in. as it stands, the weather is still sour. 

he walks up to you, as always, never more than a few steps away.

and, for a moment, all he does is watch you. silently, as you dip your brush in smeary cobalt paint, a splatter of colour on the white canvas. melting together with the indigo and obsidian. there’s a certain rhythm to it, a kind of dance between you and your mind and the painting in front of you — not even close to being finished. a dip of your brush blooms into a jaw, a flick of your wrist into a set of fangs. cobalt cream and silvery edges, an imitation of what you saw in your sleep. murky, blurry, a dream-like clearing in the woods. 

as you work, a sense of relaxation smooths along your sinuses. coaxing you into breathing out, into letting your clenched jaw rest for a while. turning all your irritation into brushstrokes. into a hungry, hungry wolf. 

finally, your knight opts to break the silence.

”you’re quite talented.” 

it’s an earnest comment. filled with respect, not the idle flattery you’re so used to. and despite yourself, you can’t help but grin — glowing a little beneath the praise. prideful, smug, almost giddy. he watches intently as your expression shifts, as those fleeting flickers of joy dance along the contours of your cheekbones. as you lap up his praise like the chamomile tea he served you this morning.

suguru smiles. you have a cute side, he thinks. for no more than a mere moment, he finally feels as if he’s getting somewhere; getting closer to breaking that thorny, thorny shell of yours. closer to meeting the little lamb beneath the wolf’s hide.

but your mind quickly catches up to your body, realizing that your lips are curled up into a pleased smile, and you clench your jaw again. mindful not to let him see it. painting makes you far too careless, too unguarded; you have to be mean.

stuck in a bout of frustration, you put a little too much force into the motion of your fingers, a small slip of the hand. but that’s all it takes. suddenly, the smooth, calm sea of fur on the canvas turns violent, a little more unruly, and you withhold a wince. doing your best to mend the damage. flick, flick, across the canvas, as if to appease the hungry wolf. 

from behind you, a tiny exhale. laced with a kind of stifled amusement, one that makes you snap your jaw in his direction. brows knitted in anger.

”what?”

suguru clears his throat. ”nothing, my liege,” he hides a smile behind his knuckle. eyes gliding across the murky smear of fangs and fur, interest piqued. ”i’m just curious… why a wolf?”

a huff. briefly, you consider ignoring him, but….

(something in his tone convinces you not to.)

”… i saw one,” you admit, absently, staring at the blue and gray of the canvas. flick, flick. violet, navy, a little more depth. ”in my dream.”

silence. your knight doesn’t respond. surely, he must think you childish; everyone else does. why would he be the exception? why did you tell him anything at all? 

a sense of regret mixes with the paint. the weight of a brush in your hand truly does make you careless, doesn’t it?

”… huh.”

a clenching of teeth. you muster the will to turn your head, just to give him a questioning look, a silent aggression. biting before he can. but he’s not looking at you; he’s looking at the painting, the wolf that isn’t quite a wolf yet, just blue and gray on paper. a blur of messy motions.

then he shakes his head. ”no, nothing.” 

you quirk a brow. 

but you don’t say anything. falling silent, falling back into the rhythm of it all, painting until you grow bored of it. the wolf looks at you both, still thoroughly unfinished, jaw half-painted, no trees or knights to keep it company. solitary, blurry; baring its fangs towards no one at all. a sorry spectacle of teeth.

— a couple days later, as you’re walking through the castle with suguru in tow, still adamantly refusing to curl your fingers around his bicep, a loud crash breaks you out of your hushed banter.

the two of you share a look. it came from farther away, just beyond the next turn, a certain hallway decorated with delicate vases. one the castle maids desperately tried to keep you from, when you were younger, worried about your habit of jumping around while pretending to be some sort of feral animal. worried, of course, about the safety of the porcelain rather than the safety of the child.

it doesn’t take a genius to figure out the source of the sound. and, lo and behold, what waits beyond the turn ahead is a crying boy and a broken vase.

fat tears cascade down his reddened cheeks, silent fear knit into the way his face is scrunched up. he can’t be older than six or seven; one of the maid’s children, you assume, the kind that doesn’t have the luxury of making mistakes. he looks panicked, down on his knees, holding a large piece of porcelain, painted flowers etched into the front.

what a mess.

when the clicking of your shoes reaches his little ears, he looks up at you with wide, shameful eyes. still sitting amongst the littered shards, the spilt water and irises soon to wilt. it reminds you of something, a memory you don’t quite want to recall; a different child, tiny and alone. taught to feel shame at the moment of their birth. 

it makes your pace falter, a bit, but suguru moves without hesitation. long, careful strides, one foot after the other. 

he crouches down in front of the boy, gentle as he takes the shattered piece of porcelain from his tiny palm. so he doesn’t hurt himself. ”hey, hey, it’s okay,” he soothes, speaking even softer than usual, his voice like a flurry of feathers and jasmine petals. ”are you hurt?”

he’s patient. smiling comfortingly, considerate, grounding, a blanket of wool like the one forming on the border of the horizon. but the child continues to sniffle and hiccup, curling into a ball as if readying for a strike. like an abandoned puppy.

you sigh.

after a moment’s hesitation, you’re stepping forward, figure slipping from the shadows and coming into view. joining the miserable pair, the jagged shards on the marble floor. 

there’s a cold, cold look in your eyes when the boy raises his head to meet them.

a flick of your wrist; you wave your hand once, then twice. ”shoo. hurry up.” 

he blinks. tears clumping his lashes together, cheeks flushed from the panic of it all. he stammers when he parts his lips. ”b… but —”

”didn’t you hear me?” comes a scoff, harsh, cutting through the air. right through the fear and panic. ”that was an order. just run back to your mommy already.” you cross your arms, shaking your head in disapproval. mimicking the king, though you think it’s lost on your spectators. ”all that crying is making my head hurt, geez.”

a series of hesitant blinks. crumbling beneath your commanding gaze, the child stumbles to his feet, sparing suguru one last unsure little glance before scurrying off. the sigh that slips from your lips is quiet, barely audible, tinged with relief. 

when you look down to the floor, you find that suguru is already looking at you; a furrow to his brows. angry, for once. just a tiny, tiny flicker of distaste. you reward him with a cold smile. 

(so this is how you get under this skin. cruelty, aimed not towards him, but towards the defenseless. 

what a picture-perfect, self-destructive little knight.)

just as the child turns the corner ahead, you hear the echo of a maid calling out from behind you. her voice is dripping with fatigue, exasperation, a flurry of sighs you’ve grown far too familiar with.

”your highness! what have you done now?”

there it is, you think; the curtain call you’ve been waiting for. with a swift turn of your heel, sheepish expression ready to go, your focus shifts onto one sole objective — act annoying.

”walked into a vase,” you chirp, proudly, just the slightest bit theatrical. gesturing dismissively towards the broken spectacle, as suguru raises himself from the floor. ”my bad. not my fault you make them so easy to break, though.”

she inches closer, with a disapproving stare, and you hear a tick-tock in your ear. sensing the limit of her patience. ”i’ll have you know these vases are expensive,” she clicks her tongue. ”do you truly think you can go around breaking whatever you please?”

”… i mean. i do kind of own this place, don’t i?” you tilt your head, faux contemplation on your features, shifting into a spoiled smile. ”or i will. so — technically — i broke my own vase. no harm done!”

”… my lord —”

”quiet.” suguru stiffens, ever so slightly, following your sharp whisper. ”don’t fuck this up.”

he looks at you, silently. not saying another word.

(there’s a shame in his eyes that you don’t turn your head to see.)

it doesn’t take long for the maid to shoo you away, pinching her brow at your carefree laughter, bitter at the prospect of cleaning up your mess. she makes sure to give suguru a sweet smile, though, and doesn’t bother to hide the sympathy in it. sympathy for him, such a handsome, well-behaved knight, forced to service such a brat.

the smile he gives her in return is a stiff one. almost, almost cold. but he bows, and follows your retreating form, until you’re all alone together.

the walk is silent. maybe just a little heavy, as you try to ignore the stare burning into your skin, trying to swallow your own displeasure. it’s subtle, something you learned to internalize long ago, but it’s there; a slight sadness. you don’t enjoy getting yelled at.

a thick silence stretches on, before crumbling into dust. you aren’t sure how much time has passed when a certain velvety voice curls around your senses.

”your highness.”

he’s come to a standstill, again. you really should just ignore him and keep walking. but you still, anyway, following his cue, turning towards him with a look that says what now? — you aren’t sure what to expect. certainly not the sentence that ends up spilling from his lips, like a spring breeze through an opened window, tinged with something you fear may be close to fondness. 

(in your chest, your heartbeat tick-tocks.)

he smiles, gentle, with eyes that see right through you. and he speaks. 

”you’re actually kind, aren’t you?”

…

”… huh?”

he pays no mind to your stupefied expression. continuing, unperturbed, eyeing you with a look you distinctly dislike — as if he’s trying to glimpse into your mind. ”the vase,” he hums. ”you took the blame, even though you didn’t do it.”

a huff escapes you. face hardening, setting into firm lines. ”that wasn't intentional,” you grumble, defensive. ”i just wanted him to leave.” 

but suguru shakes his head. ”you could’ve left when the maid came. but you stayed, and lied, and got yelled at so he wouldn’t have to.” a second passes, silence thick with meaning. intentional on his part, you’re sure. ”is that not what you’d call kind?”

another moment gone, little tick-tocks of your heartbeat counting down. you part your lips, but no sound comes out, as you stumble for words to say. irritation stirring in your veins. or is it nervosity? you think your skin feels a little hot, suddenly. 

just what the hell is happening?

”i’m… i’m not — ” you bite down on your lip. harshly. stammering, voice cracking a bit, to your great dismay. ”… not kind. i hate all of them.”

”but you protect them,” he whispers, ”look after them.” his smile doesn’t waver, never ever, but you’ve never seen it look quite this knowing. and suddenly, he’s closing in on you, gazing at you with laughter in his eyes. 

you try to stand your ground, wanting nothing more than to flee, curl into yourself, scratch at him until he leaves. but your throat feels so dry, all of a sudden, a sensation that only deepens with the next words he breathes into life. 

”a little sweetheart who pretends to be all big and bad…” he eyes you up and down, a meaningful look, raven locks moving as he tilts his head. towering over you. ”is that what you are?”

nothing. no smart reply comes to you. all you can muster is a harsh glare, a low hiss crawling up your throat, like you’re preparing to lunge at him. it serves as a warning, but the amusement in his eyes doesn’t fluctuate. ”you…”

he chuckles. raspy, breathy, a shiver down your spine. ”your acting is even worse than mine.”

”shut up,” you snap, baring your teeth. it comes out almost like a growl, hot and heavy in your veins, and you don’t understand where all this emotion came from. strangling you, bubbling up within your bobbing throat. ”you don’t — understand me, okay?”

no one does. 

and that’s fine. you don’t want them to. 

(you just want him to stop looking you so fondly.)

”not yet,” he admits, eyes fluttering shut. a thoughtful hum on the tip of his tongue. ”… but i think i’m beginning to.” 

he’s looking at you, again, amber and honey and raven lashes, lapping up every hint of a tell in the way you shift from foot to foot. speaking like he knows you, like he’s known you all his life. ”you act difficult — scare everyone away… but deep down, you love them, don’t you?”

a scoff. desperate. ”no.”

”you want to loved,” he continues, not allowing you to flee. relentless in his pursuit of whatever he imagines must be hidden inside your soul, beneath all those layers of frost. ”understood. everyone does.”

”not me.”

”your highness.”

…

the knight continues to look at you, and you avoid his gaze like it could burn you into cinders — like it could turn you into dust. but he parts his lips, anyway, and speaks. so sincere it makes your chest hurt. words that echo through the endless hallways of the castle, against the surfaces of glass that line the walls. words that make your skin flush under the shadows of rain soon to fall.

he smiles, wide, teeth showing. and he speaks. 

”that was very, very kind of you.”

silence. so thick you wonder if you’re about to faint, or fall to the floor, or something equally embarrassing. a sentence so simple shouldn’t be making you feel this way, this weird. you don’t understand why it makes you feel anything, anything at all, and you don’t understand why your eyes suddenly feel a little glassy.

(someone saw through the act.)

”… whatever,” you squeeze out, at last, but it sounds a little meek. a tiny puff of air. turning around, sharply, blinking rapidly to shoo the tears away. ”i just didn’t want to hear that brat whining. it was hurting my ears.” 

suguru bites back a coo.

as he watches your back retreat, hurrying back to the comfort of your room, he’s almost certain that he’s making progress. that your walls are beginning to crumble, slowly but surely, bit by bit. the path before him clears — a thorny, foggy path through the woods, until a sunsplatter falls on the ground and tells him where to plant his feet. 

it’s not much, barely anything, but suguru’s always liked his hunts blindsighted. 

you turn a corner, and he follows suit. sparing a passing glance at the clouds on the boundary of the horizon, the sole ray of sunlight breaking through. and then he’s catching up to you with long strides.

(it’s his duty, yes, but he doesn’t think he’d mind it so much — getting to know his kind, misunderstood little lord.)

sadly, disappointingly, to your great shame — you begin to grow used to suguru’s presence in your life. constant, always close behind, always ready to be of service. as infuriatingly patient as ever. it’s a stretch, but you may have become just the slightest bit fond of it. 

maybe, possibly, you’ve even silently decided to stop trying to scare him away. stop acting so difficult with him, all the time.

or, well — sometimes.

”take me outside, please?” you whine, bottom lip jutting out into a deep pout, accompanied by a flutter of your lashes. 

the voice that spills from your lips is hopelessly meek, pleading, so sweet you’d get cavities if you didn’t know how fake it was. effortless, perfected, your one god-given talent; an irresistible pair of puppy dog eyes. 

suguru answers with a smile, tight-lipped. ”no.”

a beat.

”aw, come on,” you whine, barely resisting the urge to stomp your feet. frustration bubbles up inside your veins, trickling down to your wrist, nails digging into your palm. ”why not? you’re supposed to listen to my every command!”

”still no, sweetheart.”

a series of grumbles scratch at the base of your throat, but suguru pays them no mind. patient, patient, patient. he’s even kind enough to ignore the way you pointedly avoid his gaze after the term of endearment slips past his lips. ”sorry, but that part is non-negotiable. you know i don’t have a choice.”

you do know. but it still makes your mood sour, pulls a sigh from out of your lips. he moves closer, familiar silver tray in hand, dragging a chair to where you’re seated by the windowsill.

”i did bring you this, though,” he gestures towards a particular glass bowl, filled with red berries. they shine like rubies in the light. ”strawberries, like you asked for. wasn’t easy to get a hold of.”

he places the tray right next to you, smiling as he takes a seat. ”cheer up, hm? don’t be so grumpy.”

your pout remains, but you do settle down a bit. just the teeniest, tiniest bit. definitely not because he was kind enough to indulge your cravings.

”… thanks for breakfast.” 

suguru beams, and you avoid his gaze, like always. biting into one of the rubies, the soft murmur of thanks still burning your tongue, soothed by sweet nectar. he lets you flee, lets you continue on like nothing happened, like it isn’t obvious how much you’ve warmed up to his presence. 

”you’re welcome, my lord.”

…

(even after spending more than a month together, he still won’t call you by name. won’t even entertain the idea. why does that bother you so much?)

peacefully, your morning ritual continues. the same as always; you eat, while suguru watches, a sweet smile on his lips. the silence remains until he opts to break it.

today, he sounds a little hesitant.

”say, your highness…” he picks at a piece of lint on his cloak, absentminded. ”could i ask you for a favour?”

you almost drop your fork. gaze snapping up to meet his own, as a few silent seconds tick on by. tick-tock, tick-tock. then you clear your throat, regaining your composure. trying to sound nonchalant. 

”what is it?” you probe, cutting across the yolk on your fried egg. watching the orange seep out, trickling down, sinking into the crust of your toast. suguru hums. 

”a friend of mine — he’s also a knight…” he wrings his hands together, legs parted. tapping his heel on the floor. ”we’ve been sparring together for a while. once a week, at least. but ever since the king hired me, we haven’t been able to.”

you watch as his gaze flickers down to his lap, then up to you again. it’s smooth, charming, but you still think it seems a little out of place. he must not be used to asking for favours.

”i was wondering if you’d be willing to accompany me? just down to the training fields by the castle.” his fingers tap against his bended knee, slow and methodical, from pointer to pinkie. ”the king gave us permission to spar there, but i’m obviously not allowed to let you out of my sight…”

you bite back a huff. obviously. he waits for a response that doesn’t come.

”… so?”

you meet his gaze, expectant. hopeful, maybe. it’s a nice touch — matches with the amber of his eyes.

”would that be alright with you?” he inquires, again. you think he sounds just a tiny bit unsure of himself.

a moment passes. silently, you look down at your lap. folded hands, itching to do something. something fun, new, exciting. 

your tongue forms around a wish. it spills into the air like a shooting star, a meek little whisper. ”… i wanna swing a sword.”

suguru blinks. once, then twice. ”you…” he tastes the words on his tongue, turning the image of you around in his head. ”want to swing a sword?

you nod. glancing at him, coughing a little under your breath. summoning just a bit of audacity, eyes trailing towards the sword by his hip. longingly. ”… i’ll only watch you spar if you let me try it.” 

a brief pause. he studies you intently, a mystery he’s yet to solve.

then he chuckles, light and airy, full of mirth. a sound you’ve grown fond of. ”well, okay. that’s fair.” he rises to his feet, smiling down at you. ”thank you, my lord.”

you don’t respond. but your eyes glitter with excitement, as you dutifully finish your breakfast, wolfing it down. waiting patiently for him to head down to the kitchen with the tray, for him to change into his training gear. 

when he knocks at your door, he’s wearing a flimsy little blouse. almost see-through, if you squint your eyes enough, exposing his bare skin. you think you see a scar curling up from his chest, reaching for his shoulder, just below it by a hair. and you can see his biceps, the fat, the muscle, practically begging to be bitten.

(tantalizing.)

he’s speaking to you, saying something, but you tune him out. focused on trying to restrain your growing urges. when he reaches up to fix his hair, tied up into a bun, the muscle of his arm twitches.

and, suddenly, you can’t contain yourself. 

giving in to the salivating temptation, you grab hold of his bicep, sinking your teeth into it — gentle, but enough that he feels it, enough to leave a set of teeth marks soon to fade. gnawing at it like a dog with a bone.

suguru blinks. pupils wide, quirking a silent brow, quick to smooth over the surprise in his eyes. 

you don’t move. teeth planted against the fabric, the firm muscle beneath it, surprising even yourself; his arm just looked so biteable. you wonder if he’s put off. upset.

but, as always, he’s eerily placating. like nothing you say or do could rock the ship of his patience, an endless sea. smooth, airy laughter flits past his lips, giving way to an indulgent smile. he studies you with fascination, like you’re a creature he hasn’t encountered before.

ever so gently, he grabs hold of your jaw — and the warmth of his touch shocks you into letting it go slack. before you can say anything, he’s rolling up his sleeve. exposing the tender skin.

”go wild, your highness,” he grins, offering his arm up like a lamb to a hungry fox. a teasing mirth in his eyes, his voice coming out as a low purr. ”i don't mind a mark or two.”

to your horror — it flusters you terribly.

you cough. taking a step back, averting your gaze, suddenly disinterested. feigning indifference, anyhow; that was definitely a scar. and a cool one, too. you think you might even have caught a glimpse of a birthmark or two. 

”i’m… just keeping you on your toes,” you stumble for an excuse, still unable to look at him properly. missing the way he stifles a bout of laughter. ”for your training, y’know? gotta stay on your guard.”

”of course. i appreciate the help,” he quips, fond, as he gestures for you to take the lead. ”he’s waiting for us. are you ready?”

for a second, just a second, you consider grabbing his arm. letting him guide you. but the thought is fleeting, like a bundle of peach blossoms, brushed away by the sunshine seeping in through the window’s glass — illuminating the marble flooring. 

a mellow excitement simmers in your bones. 

you head down to the training grounds with a pep in your step, and your loyal knight follows suit. just behind, always, wearing a smile you can’t see.

”suguru!”

the man that greets you with cheerful fervour, seated cross-legged under a peach tree, isn’t quite what you expected him to be. 

when you heard knight, you imagined someone a bit more… intimidating. but this guy is far from imposing. a little shorter than suguru, brown locks stopping right around his ears, exposing his sunkissed skin. freckles scattered across his nose and cheekbones, a happy little grin curled right around his lips. 

he’s cute. a bit like a puppy. not very knightly, though.

”haibara,” suguru greets, a mellow warmth to his voice. the man in question shoots up from the ground, stumbling towards you both, excitement in his hazel eyes. suguru gestures towards you. ”this is the royal heir. the one who doesn’t like having their hand kissed.”

your head whips towards him, an angered flush to your cheeks — you’re almost sure that he’s smirking, giving you a teasing glance, but haibara’s exclamation prevents you from voicing any protests. 

”hi!” he beams, bowing deeply, so sudden that you jolt a bit. his head whips up instantly, brown locks stirred by the breeze, voice warm and smooth. like honeysuckle nectar. ”thank you so much for letting us spar, your highness! i’ve heard so much about you!”

”… um.” your gaze falls down to a pebble on the ground. unsure of how to act, murmuring under your breath. ”you — it’s… no need to thank me. i wanted to get some air, anyway.”

he continues to look at you, eyes shining with a pure kind of cheer. glittering, honeyed and sweet, too bright to look at directly. you hear suguru exhale amusedly to your left. he’s looking right at you when you glance towards him. 

his hand inches closer to his scabbard, fingertips trailing down the leather. ”should we get started?”

haibara brightens even further, if possible. ”oh, right!” he exclaims. ”you wanted to try swinging a sword, your highness? that’s so exciting! is this your first time?”

a blink. you aren’t really sure how to handle this guy; he’s a bit too sunny to be snarky to. like a fuzzy ball of sunshine given human form, bouncing on the balls of his feet, tail practically wagging behind him. all you can muster is a weak cough. ”uh, yeah.”

”well, you’re here to learn.” suguru speaks up. guiding you both towards the center of the field, hand still at the sword on his hip. ”let me show you.”

in one smooth motion, he’s pulling it out of its sheath, a stripe of silver absorbing the rays of the sun. glimmering, slicing the blue sky in half. 

you’re a little awestruck.

and then he’s facing you. leaning forward, with a familiar tilt of his head, offering the blade with a smile. ”do you want to try swinging it around a bit?”

barely containing your excitement, you nod. making grabby hands at it.

that makes him chuckle. he makes no move to stop you when your fingers curl around the hilt, only parting his lips for a quick warning, a split second too late. you take it into your arms. ”careful, it’s a bit —”

— the sword clatters to the ground with a thud.

silence.

haibara breaks out into laughter, sudden, fond and warm, but enough to have your cheeks burning. fresh with embarrassment, humiliation, before you even hear the breathy chuckle that slips from your knight’s lips.

”… i was gonna say it’s a bit heavy,” he hums, closed knuckle in front of his lips and obscuring his smile. ”i’m sorry, my lord. do you —”

”whatever.” a hiss escapes your throat, and suguru winces. he knows where this is going; knows a bundle of thorns just erupted from the stalk of your spine, knows you're about to get defensive. ”like i’d ever want to touch your dusty sword. get — get real.”

he tries again. patient, patient. the familiar tick-tock of his never-ending kindness. ”hey, we aren’t making fun of you,” he soothes, hoping it’ll make your edges soften. like scratching a feral dog behind its ear. ”it’s understandable. you weren’t expecting it. i’ll let you try again, hm?”

a tiny pause. 

(you’re being childish, again.)

brows furrowed, hanging your head, you kick at a pebble on the ground. having collected yourself a bit. ”… maybe next time,” you finally speak, still grumbling. after you’ve spent some time lifting weights in your room.

suguru tilts his head. speaking softly. ”you sure?”

”yeah.” taking a step back, you raise your head to meet his gaze. ”i’ll just watch you. it’s fine.”

”… okay,” he exhales. leaning forward to pick up his sword from the ground. ”i can spar with you next time, if you want. you’ll be a pro in no time.”

he gives you another sweet smile, bangs fluttering with the breeze; painted in cerulean sunshine. he’s so gorgeous it makes you angry.

a sharp huff. ”don’t patronize me,” is all you can mutter, meeting the eyes of the knight by his side. standing up straighter. ”haibara,” you call. ”knock him around a bit for me, okay?”

from the corner of your eye, suguru pouts.

but the puppy-knight only grins, as bright as the sun in the sky. ”you got it, your highness!” he salutes, cheeks flushing with giddy excitement. 

as you sit on the benches a little farther away, dragonflies buzz in the air. fleeting glimmers of chartreuse and cerulean, chirping happily, keeping you company as you watch the knights spar. the clangs of their blades, the elegance in the way suguru moves. a violent little waltz. he’s sweating, just a bit, but you can see it, droplets glittering in the sun. he looks like he’s having fun. 

he looks like himself. like he isn’t holding back, isn’t acting obedient or well-mannered for the sake of pleasing his superiors. like this, here and now, he looks wild, free, a dog that turns into a wolf under the glow of the sun. 

for a second, your eyes meet — just as he narrowly avoids a slash. 

and he smirks, ever so slightly, suddenly gaining a little more momentum. flashing a brief grin, sunlight reflecting off his white teeth. you huff. heat crawling up your neck. 

show off.

”excuse me, your highness?”

the sudden voice snaps you out of your stupor. mesmerized, by the spectacle before you, the glimmer of their blades and the sight of your knight’s smile. it’s an unfamiliar voice, close, close enough that your head turns to meet the stranger’s ugly grin — inching closer still.

(uh oh.)

— just up ahead, lost in their own worlds, are two knights; huffing and smirking and narrowly dodging each other’s strikes. suguru takes the lead, as always, guiding haibara into improving his swordsmanship. but they both learn from it. and it’s fun, lighthearted, a respite from their more gruesome duties. 

it’s helped suguru more times than he can count; those tiny flickers of normalcy, in a wholly unpredictable profession. a life of bowing and bowing and killing what needs to be killed.

slash, slash, and then two steps back. the same old dance. haibara’s starting to lose momentum, he notices, adam’s apple bobbing with his heavy breaths.

so suguru stills. ”alright, that’s enough for now,” he calls, stretching idly. craning his head, looking around him absently. he wonders if you’re still watching. ”i think i see what the problem is.”

haibara perks up, obeying without a word, wiping the sweat off his forehead and walking towards his friend with a sunny smile. ”okay, great!”

but suguru isn’t looking at him, anymore. 

he’s looking towards the benches, where his little lord is seated, speaking to an unfamiliar man. one who currently has his hand on their forearm, caressing it. you look guarded, irritated, a little like you’re about to bare your teeth. trying to pull away, but he doesn’t let you. and suguru recognizes that look — the one that means you’re about to start biting and hissing, inching your claws into whatever’s within reach.

(not to injure, but to ground yourself, he’s learned. like how you clutch onto the fabric of your clothing when you’re nervous, sink your nails into your palm. not to injure, but to feel safe.)

in the blink of an eye, he’s making his way towards you. beckoned by his duty, his natural instinct, a protective itch that curls around his ribcage and crawls up his throat. large strides, much swifter than usual. he moves without thinking, and he’s there before he has the time to form a coherent thought.

with as much gentleness as he can possibly muster, he grabs hold of the stranger’s arm. smiling, tight-lipped, cold. ”excuse me, sir,” he greets, ”i need to borrow them for a moment.”

the man meets his gaze with a sour look. bitter, ugly, oddly possessive — like he thinks he owns the arm he’s holding. it makes suguru want to teach him a lesson, show off his sword, but he resists the temptation in a way you never could. his expression is a warning, though, enough to scare most rowdy drunkards and snobby royals away.

and it works. the stranger looks to you, briefly, before finally letting go of your poor arm. something rigid in suguru’s jaw finally relaxes. ”who are you?” comes a question, as the man turns to face him with a look full of contempt. ”their knight?”

before suguru can say anything, you’ve hopped off the bench. clinging to him, with a firm nod; your arms around his bicep. ”yeah. he is.”

(suguru fails to stifle a smug smile.)

with a string of bitter mumbles and a silent frustration, the man scurries away. hesitant, only after being met with another warning glance from the knight in front of him. intimidating, far less subtle, towering above him like a predator over their prey.

as soon as he’s out of sight, your knight turns to you, scanning your face for signs of discomfort. loyal, attentive. ”are you okay?” he asks, a silent shame in his voice. if only he had noticed sooner. ”did he do anything to you?”

you shake your head. ”it’s fine. probably one of the king’s friends — stops by every now and then.” a sigh, a little fatigued, following your explanation. ”they’re mostly harmless. just creepy and touchy.”

”that doesn’t sound very harmless…” suguru lets you pull away, quick to hide the disappointment that flashes in his eyes as you do, waving haibara off with a silent gesture of give us a minute. ”don’t worry. i’ll keep an eye out, from now on.”

still a little guarded, you nod. letting suguru guide you by the small of your back, taking a seat on the solid bench once more. together, this time. 

”there are a lot of those types around the town square,” he exhales, weary, stretching out his limbs before leaning forward. elbows resting on his bended knees. ”they’re a pain to deal with. i’m sorry you have to.”

”are there?” you ask, tone laced with curiosity. ”in the town?” 

”well, i’m sure you’ve heard. that place is a bit of a mess, these days…” a click of his tongue. ”more work for the knights.”

a dragonfly settles on the bridge of his nose. suguru blinks, smiling gently, until it flutters away with a raspy squeak. fading away, melting into the blue paint of the sky. you bite down on your lip. 

”… i haven’t.”

he turns to look at you. raising a brow.

”i haven’t heard about it at all. the king told you, right?” you meet his eye with a rueful smile, before leaning back, nose turned up towards the sky. for a second, you think the air smells a bit of rain. ”i’m not allowed to go out into town.”

your knight falls silent.

so you continue. grinning, with no humour to it. maybe a bit eager to overshare, to break the silent rules you’ve been given. the secret tastes like honey on your tongue. ”i’m a bastard child. he probably told you that, too.” you wouldn’t be surprised. ”thinks it's optimal for everyone involved if i just stay cooped up in the castle.” 

closing your eyes, your voice drips with something close to longing. barely above a whisper. ”i haven't been to the town in a couple of years, now.”

…

he only hums. ”i see.”

(there’s sympathy, in his amber eyes, but you don’t turn around to see it. you don’t turn to look at him until he’s finished sparring, and haibara’s about to leave. 

you wonder if he’ll meet your gaze the same way as before.) 

— that evening, suguru knocks at your door right as you're about to fall asleep. three rapid knocks, the same as always, knuckle against wood. rousing you from your rest.

when you open it, he’s holding something out towards you.

”here,” he says, voice set to a mellow tilt. upon closer inspection, he’s holding a bottle. transparent, see-through, stuffed to the brim with sea glass. smooth little colourful pebbles, green and blue and pink and orange, like frozen little camellias. ”for you, my lord.”

blinking sluggishly, you take it into your arms; holding it up in front of your eyes. when the light of the moon flitting in through the curtains hits it just right, it blossoms with colour, sparkling with every shade you’ve ever seen. shining like a heap of jewels, in your hands, like something out of a picture-book. magical.

it’s mesmerizing. 

”i asked haibara to get it from the town,” he explains, drinking in your expression of awe. ”this one lady — she collects them herself. i see her by the beach nearly every time i go there.”

when you look up, his smile is serene. peaceful, if just a little bit tired. but he looks pleased, lips curling around silky syllables. ”i thought of you.”

it’s odd, you think. you aren’t a stranger to gifts; you get most of what you desire if you just say the word, an easy way for the king to keep you compliant. as if to make up for the plethora of experiences you’ve missed out on since your birth. and you’ve had more than a couple suitors, men and women, eager to gain your favour. 

but this — this particular gift…

…

”it’s pretty,” you murmur, finally, unable to voice even a sliver of the emotions clogging up your chest. shying away from his gaze, feeling your heart pulse against your ribcage. ”… i guess.”

suguru just smiles. always, always, always. no matter what you do. ”i’ll get you something else next time,” he promises, ready to go back to standing guard outside the castle. ”get some sleep, okay? be good.”

and you can’t bring yourself to protest. not even a tiny huff of don’t tell me what to do. you can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod, soft and pliant, still gazing at the bottle of sea glass in your hands. like you might turn into one of those transparent pebbles, if you wish for it enough.

that night, you dream of waves crashing against sand, the taste of seafoam on your tongue. every colour in the world. a newfound, reawakened wish — a wish to see more of it.

”are you trying to sneak out again?”

owlishly, all you can do is blink. propped up on the windowsill, immersed in the process of tying pillowcases and bedsheets together to form a rope. caught in the act — by none other than suguru, standing by the threshold, hand on his hip, watching you with silent disapproval. you didn’t think he’d come check on you this late.

a gulp. ”… no?”

and he sighs. walking towards you, brows furrowed, running a hand through his raven locks. you can tell he’s trying to be a little more sympathetic, this time, but it only makes the bitter taste on your tongue thicken. 

”look — i know it’s not fair to you, but the king and queen specifically ordered me —”

”i get it,” you cut him off, with a hiss, a little harsher than you meant to. you soften your voice before continuing. "i know. okay? i know.”

resigned, but frustrated, you clench the silken material of the bedsheets. glaring at them like it’s somehow their fault that the queen couldn’t bear an heir, that your father has a knack for sleeping around. like it’s their fault that he’s so ashamed of your existence that he doesn’t want you integrating into society on anything other than his own terms, until he’s dead and gone and doesn’t have to take accountability anymore. 

like it’s their fault that it’ll always be like this, forever, that it’s better not to hope for more.

(why can’t you just accept that?)

the knight before you exhales. troubled, watching your nails dig into the fabric, watching the way you bite down on your lip and rapidly blink. all signs of your frustration, your sadness, that you always try so hard to hide. 

”hey. how about this?” he tries to get your attention, voice soothing enough to coax you into raising your gaze. ”i’ll tell you a story instead.”

he stifles a chuckle, at the dubious look you send his way, teetering on the edge of a glare. slithering towards you. ”i’ve seen a lot of places. i can tell you about them, if you’d like.” he takes a seat right next to you, on the windowsill, a slice of the moon in bare view. ”what do you want to know?”

you’re silent, for a second. gnawing at your bottom lip, in contemplation, the tiniest bit of nervosity. like you aren’t quite sure if you’re allowed to speak your wishes aloud.

”… the woods.”

suguru blinks. a little caught off guard. 

his silence makes you want to bare your fangs, a bit. misinterpreting it as judgement. your voice comes out cold. ”what?”

but he’s quick to smooth over his features with a smile, as always, cocking his head amusedly. ”sorry — i was expecting you to say the sea, or something,” he stifles a chuckle. “it's the woods that you're so curious about?”

you pout. ”… you can see them from here.”

his head turns towards the window’s glass, squinting his eyes to see the sea of dark green in the distance, a cluster of thick trees. he hums. ”yeah, you can. well… that particular spot isn’t too bad. not many bandits or beasts.” your gaze stays glued onto his lips, every word that spills from them. ”there are wolves, though. this side of the kingdom is crawling with them.”

”they sell their fur,” you state.

(that’s one thing you do know. you spent more of your childhood around wolf pelts than your own parents. they might as well be your legal guardians.)

suguru nods. ”they do. it's a big portion of the kingdom’s exports… general market, as well.”

a frown tugs at your lips. you think of your fluffy childhood guardians, unable to howl or even make a sound; hunters turned decorations.

”isn’t that… kinda fucked up?”

he smiles, revealing no emotion. ”do you think it is?”

you only shrug. ”i’m not surprised that they eat us.” you think of all the stories you’ve heard, the fairy tales you grew up with. ”… if i was a wolf, i’d hate humans too.”

”would you, now?” familiar amusement, seeping from his tongue, soft crows’ feet by his cedar eyes. ”good thing you aren’t a wolf, then. we’re lucky.”

”mhm. you’d be my first target.”

that makes him chuckle, a little deeper this time, and you drink in the glimpse you get of his teeth, the fondness that dances across his face when he looks at you. 

a sudden urge overtakes you. 

”… i wanna know about something else.”

”oh?” he tilts his head, soft locks framing his kind eyes. ”and what would that be, my dear?”

”you.”

… 

for a moment, the mask falls. a silent, subtle kind of surprise, something in the way the tips of his fingers twitch that tells you he’s caught off guard. it coaxes you into continuing, following through with your question. swallowing the embarrassment. ”i wanna know more about you. how you became a knight, and… stuff.”

suguru looks at you with a strange glint in his eyes. undecipherable, unspoken, just watching as moonrays glide across your soft skin. ruffling your hair. 

a hum buzzes in his throat. he scratches at the back of his neck, resisting the urge to dodge your question. clicking his tongue. ”… well.”

anticipation blooms in your eyes, and you cross your legs, waiting patiently to hear him speak. he can’t deny you, when you look at him like that — so suguru simply exhales. a breath of indulgence. 

”it’s not a very interesting story,” he leads, closing his eyes in remembrance. ”they scouted me when i was pretty young…. a bit of a troublemaker, honestly, but i got lucky." memories flash behind his eyelids, fresh bruises, sliced fruit. bittersweet. ”ended up around some powerful people. they liked me. knighthood felt like the right choice.” 

he meets your entranced gaze, speaking with sincerity, devotion dipped in honey and holy water. sinking deeper still. ”it’s my purpose in life,” he breathes, a flurry of whispers on his tongue. heavier than either of you know. ”truly.”

you cock your head. ”being a knight?”

”protecting the weak,” he says. recites. like he’s said it a million times before, in the face of beasts, in the reflection of broken mirrors, a mantra to live and die by. ”protecting those who can’t protect themselves.”

the look in his eyes frightens you. deeper than the deepest lake, dark and murky, dragging him down. a devotion that smells of iron, tastes like steel. mania disguised as loyalty.

(knights love duty. almost as much as they love dying for it. that’s what your father always says.)

”but, honestly — this kind of thing isn’t bad,” he breaks you out of your trance, grinning sheepishly, almost boyishly. ”it’s been a while since i had so much fun on the job… thank you for that.”

he’s looking at you, right at you, into your eyes, an expression reserved for you and you alone. terribly earnest, grateful, a sincerity he wouldn’t show anyone else. ”honestly.”

you can do nothing but avert your gaze. swiftly, meekly, feeling heat crawl up your neck, blooming across your cheeks like the branches of a plum tree. suguru grins, gulping down the slightest coo — but he can’t resist the urge to poke fun at you a bit.

”… you’re a shy one, aren’t you?” he searches for your gaze, chuckling when he doesn’t find it. when you don’t let him. ”can’t even look people in the eye if they’re being nice to you… how precious.”

”oh, shut up,” you groan, glaring out into the night sky. blinking slowly, drowsily, biting back a yawn that your attentive knight still manages to notice. 

(he looks a little enamored.)

”ah… is my sweet little lord getting sleepy?”

”no,” you scoff, far too quick. ”i’m… tired.”

”of course.” he reaches out, carefully, to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. ”tired — not sleepy. that would be outrageous, wouldn’t it?” 

a yawn. ”it would.” 

low laughter bubbles up at the base of his throat, like seafoam, melting roses. deep and summery. ”alright. that’s enough stories for tonight, i think.” and with that, he gets up. ”let’s get you to bed, hm?”

rubbing your eyes, absently kicking your legs, you give him a slow nod of your head. making grabby hands at him that you’re sure you’ll be embarrassed about in the morning — but it feels easy, to be greedy, to know that your wants won’t be ignored when you’re with him. ”carry me, suguru.”

an indulgent smile. he doesn’t say anything, only curling his arms under your thighs, lifting you up and cradling you to his chest. you can feel his firm muscles, like this, trace them with your fingertips, hear the beating of his heart. tick-tock, tick-tock. a lullaby. a sense of safety, when you can’t tell where your heartbeat ends and his begins.

lost in that fuzzy, sleepy feeling, a blink away from falling into dreamland, fatigue washes over you — but you cling to his sleeve, even as he tucks you in, dragging the blanket up to cover you properly. 

”suguru,” you murmur, so quiet you doubt he hears it. ”will you tell me more stories tomorrow?”

”of course.” right before sleep coaxes you into its cradle, you feel the weight of his palm on your head; ruffling your hair. ”as many as you want, your highness.”

he smiles, as your eyes flutter shut, at the soft little breaths that flow from your lips. before he slips out, he blows out the candle on the nightstand, a silent prayer that your dreams will be kinder to you than his. 

— one week of nagging later, suguru’s resolve finally crumbles. it’s progress, at last, a tiny crack in his clockwork heart. 

but for once, it works in your favour.

”do you really want to see the outside world that badly?”

he’s got an arm locked around your waist, stopping you from one of your numerous escape attempts. you’ve gotten bolder, sneaking away the moment he takes his eyes off you, but suguru isn’t easy to fool — catching up to you just as you stepped outside the castle, now stuck in place under the portico. it’s to be expected, with that sixth sense of his, the one that seems to alert him as soon as you think the thought to get him in trouble. 

but you still can’t help but pout, huff and puff, pushing at his chest in a helpless attempt to break free. he’s sweet about it, gentle, but entirely unmoving. like a big, annoyingly handsome rock.

”what do you think?” you scoff, narrowing your eyes at him. ”no, of course not. this whole time, i’ve just been trying to escape for fun. like, as a bit. how could you tell?”

he rolls his eyes, and you break out into a grin. ”mind the sarcasm, please.” he barely resists the urge to pinch your side; letting you loose, instead, trusting you not to scurry away. he’d catch up to you instantly, anyhow. "i’m just saying, it might not be as interesting as you think —“

”what are you, stupid?”

”what did we say about letting people finish their sentences?” he raises a brow, and you try not to cower. rolling your eyes, instead. suguru just sighs. ”i understand why you want to leave. but you have a good life, here. better than most.”

”… i know that,” you grumble, biting down on your lip. a resignation in your eyes that your knight can't protect you from. ”i just —”

you sigh. 

”it’s just so suffocating.”

suguru falls into a contemplative silence. weighing his options, studying the flicker of emotions in your eyes, the tapping of your idle fingers. hands eager to fidget with something. 

moments pass, one at a time, a familiar lullaby of pitter patter ricocheting off the ground just outside your vision. the air smells of marigolds, burning wood, wet concrete. the beginnings of summer.

finally, he makes up his mind. 

”okay, okay.”

when you look up from the ground, what awaits you is an outstretched hand. a familiar palm, and a familiar knight, with a familiar smile on his face. ”but don’t get used to it, alright?”

…

you part your lips, but no sound comes out. gaping like a fish out of water, hunting for the right words. suguru waits. patient.

”w — hold on,” you stutter, eyes blooming with hesitant hope, studying him intently for any signs of trickery. ”you mean — seriously? like, for real?”

he shrugs. ”it’s my duty to keep you happy.” devotion clings to his tongue, sweet indulgence. ”figure i can make an exception this once.”

another moment passes.

(there isn’t a hint of deceit in his features.)

a grin breaks out across your lips, like a joyous bolt of lighting, and you lunge into his chest — throwing your arms over his broad shoulders, jumping up and down, planting a wet kiss against his cheek. bubbly, giddy, heart racing with disbelief. you don’t even have it in you to be bratty. ”thank you, thank you, thank you!”

suguru makes a choked out noise, a little comical, breath hitching in the back of his throat. stabilizing you with a palm on the small of your back, patting it softly, once or twice, before retracting his arm and pulling away. clearing his throat. ”… you’re welcome.”

(his ears burn a cherry red.)

”but this is our little secret,” he reminds you, firmly, collecting himself. or trying to. ”got it?”

”yep.”

”if anyone asks, you —”

”yep, yep, understood.” you brush him off, still grinning brightly. ”don’t worry! i won’t tell a soul, i promise. swear on my mother’s grave!”

your knight exhales. worried, maybe, a little exasperated — mostly just trying to mask how infectious your joy is. how addicted he is to it, now that he’s seen it up close. he’s only caught glimpses in the midst of your painting sessions; to see it directed at him instead of the wolf on your canvas is a treasure he won’t soon forget. 

sneakily, stealthily, like a pair of bad dogs, the two of you begin your journey to the woods on the horizon. wearing cloaks, sticking together, until the sun begins to set and the sky drains of colour. 

and before you know it, it’s right there in front of you. a narrow path into the woods, a cluster of trees, a world you’ve always dreamed of. dark and gritty, beautiful, brimming with bugs and sights yet to be seen. creatures you could only ever see in picture books. a dreamlike world that takes shape before you, like paint splattered on a canvas, as you follow suguru’s lead — right behind him, clinging to the fabric of his cloak, excitement flooding your veins. heart thumping erratically in your chest. 

when you’ve made it to a tiny clearing, you stop in your tracks. suguru’s holding a lantern, a flicker of orange in the dark green world before you, attracting fuzzy moths. proud trees stand tall all around you, keeping guard, mushrooms and forget me nots scattered across the dewy patches of grass. keeping them company. 

everything smells of life, earth, oak wood and thinly veiled secrets. you want to live here forever.

suguru turns to look at you, noticing the way you’ve stilled. completely mesmerized, bewitched, eyes gleaming with childlike happiness. he tuts, doing a bad job at hiding how pleased he is. the sound makes you meet his eye.

”careful,” he croons, inching closer. fingertips ghosting over your wrist, right above your pulsepoint. ”could be wolves around. stay close.”

you tilt your head, feigning confusion. ”i’ve already got one right next to me, though?”

the comment earns you a flat expression, unimpressed, and it pulls a giggle from out your throat. the corners of suguru’s lips curl up, unwillingly, as he shakes his head; exhaling a tired breath. exasperated. 

then he hums. ”well, at least you're aware.”

suddenly, he’s walking forward, slipping away, cold air replacing the buzzing warmth of his skin on yours. hot blood, ever flowing, hidden within his veins — pumped out from his heavy heart. it’s there and then it’s gone. tick, tock, one step after the other, until he’s turning around to face you again. unfurling his outstretched hand, waiting for you to grab hold of it. 

his long hair sways with the breeze, smooth and unburdened, black like the night sky above you. a starry glint in his eyes. his voice comes out deep, a raspy lilt, like the scraping of metal against concrete. 

when he smiles, you think you catch a glimpse of sharp teeth.

”will you trust this wolf to keep you safe?”

under the web of shadows cast by the trees, barely illuminated by the shivering moon, all you can do is watch him. his gleaming eyes, the curl of a toothy grin on his lips. a knight, a wolf, a friend.

your protector. 

finally, finally, you grasp onto his offered hand. his fingers intertwine with your own, a puzzle finally solved, and his palm feels a little calloused. skin littered with tiny scars, years of training and killing, but it’s still somehow so soft. nice and smooth. 

he’s warm. and now he’s smiling at you, like you put all the gold of the world into his palm. 

”yeah,” you grin, a little cheeky. stepping closer, clinging to him without restraint, knowing he’ll indulge you. ”keep me safe, wolfie.”

his laughter rings out into the air like a cicada song, sweet and nostalgic. or a howl, maybe. it makes you want to gnaw at his bones; memorize his taste, so you’ll never quite be without him. it’s not your fault he looks so chewable when he’s smiling like that.

”i will,” he promises, vows, pledges, hand on his heavy heart. knights and their rituals. ”you don’t have to worry about a thing. not while i’m here.”

and you don’t. you know you don’t. because suguru is the greatest knight, the coolest wolf, and his clockwork heart never ceases to tick. it won’t break under pressure, no matter how much you push — so you don’t bother holding back. wrapping both arms around his bicep, cozying up to him, tugging at his cloak with a pep in your step. 

”c’mon, c’mon!" you beckon him forward. "i wanna see how everything looks up close.”

and he just lets you manhandle him, for a bit. following your lead. ”of course,” he croons. ”your wish is my command, your highness.”

the night stretches on, seemingly never-ending, like the branches of the oak tree you find in the heart of the woods. broken, beautiful, stretching out in all directions — as if wishing to engulf the world. a garden of forking paths, covered in jagged bark, but still somehow so warm to the touch. you’re sure there’s a heartbeat in there, somewhere. maybe a couple of swords too.

all good things must come to an end. but you refuse to leave the comfort of your mossy haven until suguru promises to bring you back, someday, maybe, if you play nice. it’s a deal that you’re willing to take.

only then do you begin your journey back towards the castle. having gotten your fill, for now, left to wallow in the newfound sights etched into your memory. still clinging to your knight like a child with their favorite doll, babbling into his ear about something or another. about how you’re almost sure you saw a wolf in the bushes, about how pretty the cicadas’ songs were. how you’re gonna convince him to take you there every single day.

the sun is yawning, stretching its endless limbs out, getting ready to rise and envelop the world. the sky is a calm blue, soon to be painted orange and pink, but you aren’t tired at all. you must sound a little incoherent, but suguru nods along to your every word. listening attentively.

so kind. so patient. sure, he’s a tease, and more than a little patronizing — but you don’t think you’ve ever liked anyone this much before. it’s weird. it’s fun. 

(you wonder if he feels the same.)

”hey, suguru?”

he keeps his eyes locked on the road ahead, but still spares you a brief glance, just to let you know you have his full attention. a second of hesitance is all your sleepy brain allows you, curiosity enveloping most of your functioning thoughts.

”would you… i mean. if i was, like… a different person —” you pause. suguru quirks a brow, and you suddenly feel a little flustered. ”um, what i mean is! like, if the king ordered you to be someone else’s knight… would you protect them like you do with me?”

he blinks. once, then twice, meeting your hopeful gaze. stifling a yawn, and parting his lips. 

”obviously.”

…

your face falls. lips dropping down into a soft pout, rich with disappointment, paired with a barely audible huff. suguru furrows his brows, playfully, smiling in the way he always does when he’s about to tease you.

”ah, my bad,” he croons. ”were you expecting something else? a… forbidden romance, perhaps?”

before you can begin to protest, warmth rushing to your cheeks, he stops walking. dropping down on one knee, dramatically, with a flutter of his cloak. theatrical. 

gently, he grabs hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips as his eyes flutter shut. you bite back a squeak. his voice comes out low, sultry, honeyed — so heavy with emotion that it’s obvious he’s faking it. ”the only person i yearn to protect is you, my liege,” his breath feels hot against your skin. ”i could never love another. i exist for you, and you alone.” 

suddenly, he’s smirking. you feel it against the knots of your knuckle, right before he cracks a single eye open. glimmering with deep amusement. ”… is that better?”

and you huff. sharply, doing all that you can to avoid getting flustered, his heavy gaze burning right into your own. it really, really doesn’t work. ”you’re so mean.”

”not mean,” he chuckles, rising to his feet. dusting off his cloak. ”i’m just… managing your expectations, my lord. they’d have my head on the chopping block if i so much as touched you without their consent — you know that.”

another little huff. ”i never said i wanted you to…” 

(you do, though.)

suguru hums. ”i’m your knight,” he reminds you, as always, until you get tired of hearing it. steadfast, irrefutable. ”that’s all. remember?”

something bitter settles on your tongue. 

but you nod. ”that’s right,” you hum. ”mine.”

a teasing mirth flickers through his eyes, like the first setting sunrays reflecting off cathedral glass. reverent, dyeing the world in all the colour it asks for. and he chuckles, raspy, amused. ”possessive little thing…”

that’s right, you remind yourself. he’s your knight. your lying, teasing, playwright of a knight. always wearing a mask, hiding behind a suit of armor, playing one role or another. only baring himself under the light of the sun, when no one is around to see. he’s infuriatingly patient, endlessly loyal, the greatest bootlicker you’ve encountered in your life. but he’s kind, too. maybe a little too kind. 

and he always, always kneels. 

such a large man, all toned muscle and tall stature, broad shoulders and a firm chest — kneeling at your feet. like a loyal dog. with a rustle of armor, a flutter of fabric, a sigh and a smile. as soon as you ask for it.

”c’mon. let’s hurry back,” you hear him say, biting back another yawn. ”before anyone finds out i kidnapped you. don’t want me to get in trouble, do you?”

”i kinda do.”

a silent look. unimpressed. it’s the most sincere expression he knows how to make, and also the most comical. ”careful,” he looks ahead, hiding his amused smile. ”wolves eat bratty heirs, you know? better stay on my good side, your highness.”

a bout of sleepy giggles. you curl an arm around his bicep, putting your weight onto him, but he doesn’t stumble. ”sorry, mr wolf! please, by all means, eat my dear father instead.”

”don’t be disrespectful.”

”sorry,” you quip, entirely unapologetic. ”i forgot you had a crush on him. that’s my ba — ow!”

suguru brushes by you, walking forward, hiding his growing grin. leaving you with an ache in your hip and two wide eyes. 

”hurry up, my lord. we don’t have all day.”

”wha — you pinched me!” you stumble after him, barely containing your quiet delight. ”they’ll have your head for this, you know!”

silent laughter. you don’t need to hear it to know that it’s there, just ahead of you, tucked into crows’ feet and a curl of his lips.

suguru always kneels.

but, sometimes, he talks to you as if you’re equals. sometimes he takes the lead, pinches your hip, tells you off a little. teasing, patient, but there’s an edge to him that he doesn’t always hide. sometimes, he lets you see it, and you figure that must make you at least a little bit special.

sometimes, he feels like your best friend.

careless, careless, careless.

how could he ever be so careless?

everything blurs into a puddle of red. murky, sticky, everywhere all at once. all he sees is red, all he feels is burning. his heartbeat pulses at the base of his throat, bottom lip bruised and aching from hours of sinking his teeth into the flesh, over and over — every single nerve of his body running on adrenaline and nothing else.

(adrenaline and fear, maybe, but they’ve always been synonymous. never one without the other.)

the slaughter is mindless. suguru knows that’s how they like it, anyhow — knights aren’t supposed to think. they don’t need to. 

suguru certainly isn’t. cutting his way through the bandit’s den, practically growling, sword painted such a dark shade of red that he doubts he’ll ever be able to wipe it clean. harsh slashes, pure instinct, wildfire inside his veins, iron on his tongue. 

suguru isn’t thinking, he’s hunting. sniffing like a bloodhound. eyes scanning the area before him like a hungry beast.

suguru is hunting — for you.

and when he sees you, at last, tied up and barely conscious, he’s almost certain he’s going to grow claws, fangs, matted fur. that he’s going to turn into a beast beneath the fading moonlight.

but he falls to his knees, instead, like a wounded dog. throwing his burganet off, with a clatter, crawling closer. heaving breaths, untying you with shaky hands, greedy fingertips hunting for a pulsepoint —

and only when he finds it does he allow himself the luxury of breathing again.

when you come to, veins dragged down by a fuzzy sensation, your vision is blurred. foggy, dull colours on the canvas of your mind, gradually washed away as you struggle for control. you stir, and finally see the figure above you. 

what you see is a knight, a wolf, a beast beneath the moonlight. a kind, kind man.

suguru.

bloodied armor. sweaty, messy hair, sticking to his forehead. pure panic in his bloodshot eyes. he cradles your face, cold metal on your cheek, dirty and smelling of iron. he moves his mouth; you delude yourself into thinking that his bottom lip is trembling. forming around familiar vowels.

he’s saying your name.

there must be something wrong with you, you belatedly realize. the last one to do so. because you’re hurt, scared, but you still feel a skip of your heartbeat. 

(he finally said it.)

you muster all the strength at your disposal, eyelids fluttering. and you try to answer, you do, reaching for that thread between your brain and your tongue — but it comes out as a garbled little thing, more air than noise. 

it’s enough. the tense crease between his brows melts away, and he sighs.

”oh, thank the heavens.”

another sensation. he’s touching your hand, now, cold metal on warm skin, bringing it up to his lips; a shaky little exhale brushing against the knots of your knuckle. his lips are chapped. 

then he’s scooping you up, cradling you close, as close as metaphysically possible, as if willing to cut his stomach open to fit you inside. a firm grip, comforting, stable. desperate, a mother wolf carrying her cub to safety, by the skin of her teeth. his hair tickles your skin, but you don’t mind.

only when he brings you back to the castle does everything fall into place. he explains everything, as you sit in bed, still recovering. a sudden attack, from within the castle, a kidnapping. some enemies of the king, a scandal to do with you and your blood. something, something, something. you’ve grown used to not understanding why you keep getting hurt. and you’re too distracted by the sullen face of the knight in front of you to pay attention.

suguru wasn’t there to stop it — wasn’t there to save you, be your knight in dashing armor. the king had invited him to a game of chess, and you had been adamant in your refusal to join them.

so you don’t understand why he’s apologizing.

he’s smiling, but it’s weak, as flimsy as a piece of paper. his lying smile, tight-lipped, betrayed by the redness of his eyes, the puffy skin beneath them. dark crescents. he sits by your bedside and looks a little like he wants to curl into a ball. 

”i’m sorry.”

and ah, you think; there it is. guilt. always, always clinging to him, a ghost haunting him wherever he goes. it’s been there since the beginning, in the scar reaching for his shoulder, the nature of his never-fading smile. guilt, guilt, guilt. you wonder if he's ever gone without it. you wonder if knights begin to crumble when they stop feeling ashamed. 

he looks sad.

with a breathless inhale, you part your lips. you want to tell him that he has nothing to apologize for, that you’re fine now — that you could never be mad at him. not really, never truly, never at him. you want to tell him that he’s your favorite person, not just your favorite knight, that he’s allowed to make mistakes without demanding that he suffer for them. 

you want to tell him that it’s okay, really. seriously.

but all that leaves your lips is a meek little sniffle. as the shock of it all finally settles, sinking deep into your bones, the fear of being captured, the dull ache of your skull meeting the ground. you can’t tell him any of the things you want to, and you feel so awful — 

because suguru’s face falls. like you just thrust a knife into his sternum and twisted it. he looks like he could cry, too.

”i’m sorry,” his voice cracks, right down the middle. like a broken vase. ”i’m so sorry.” it’s not at all what you want to hear, but you can’t tell him that either. he’s bundling you up before you know it, dragging you into the comfort of his chest, one large palm on the back of your head; tugging you closer still. he smells of soap and oak wood and peach blossoms. ”it was scary, wasn’t it?”

and you nod. into his neck, wet tears brushing against his skin. not stable enough to act tough. you don’t think he is, either.

suguru exhales, shaky, clutching you like he could lose you if he lets go. lose himself. he knows you’re scared, but you let him soothe you. it means something, he thinks. it means something that you let him come so close, closer than anyone’s ever been. so he swallows the guilt until it’s no longer clogging up the back of his throat, if only so his voice can flow out through the gap, give you the comfort you need. just rubbing your back until you calm down, apologizing silently — over and over again. manic, like the tick-tock of a clock.

until your voice breaks him out of it.

”it’s not your fault.”

he stiffens. still holding you, feeling your heartbeat settle down, hearing your voice break out of your throat. it comes out as a weak croak, with just the slightest hint of disapproval.

he gulps.

”don’t worry about me, right now,” he hushes you. a silent plea. ”i’m not the one who’s injured.”

”suguru —” you sigh, almost a hiss. ”i hit my head. once. that’s all.” you wipe away the wetness of your cheeks, biting back a sniffle. ”… you’re acting like i’m fucking dying. cut it out.”

(for once, he’s relieved to hear that sharp edge of your voice. it means you’re feeling better.)

a weak inhale. ”… they kidnapped you. it must’ve been terrifying. please, just…” and a tired exhale. ”please just don’t strain yourself.”

”it wasn’t your fault.”

…

”your highne —”

”i’m serious.” you’re pulling away, suddenly, clasping onto his cheeks with your tearstained palms. squishing his face together. ”it wasn’t your fault. it was mine.”

he shakes his head, eager to protest, so you squish his cheeks with more force, and shake his head for him. like a misbehaving dog. ”nope. if you even think about apologizing, i’ll start crying again.”

he lets out a huff. frowning, sadly, a downcast pair of eyes.

”don’t pout. i’ll bite you.”

it’s slight, barely even there at all — but you think the corner of his mouth twitches upwards, just by a hair, exhaling through his nose with just the slightest hint of amusement.

he places his palm over yours. 

a moment passes, slow and steady, both of you catching your breaths. calming down, letting the fear of it all seep out of your aching bones. you hope the warmth of your skin against his soothes him as much as it soothes you. 

”… you know, your highness,” he murmurs, softly. meeting your puffy eyes with his tired pools of amber gold. ”there’s something i never told you.”

you blink. he continues.

”just the night before the king reached out to me… i had a dream.” he musters a weak, exhausted little smile. ”dreams… i don’t have them very often. and when i do, they’re nothing good. but this dream…” 

his eyes flutter shut. a curtain closing, a raven taking flight, the tick-tock of a heartbeat. you can’t look away. ”it stuck out to me.”

silence.

your voice comes out soft, like the bedsheets beneath you, the man before you. a tiny breath of a question. ”… what was it about?”

he smiles. smoothing a thumb over your knuckle, reverent, as if memorizing every ridge and dip.

”a fox.”

…

”it had…” his hand slips from the small of your back, reaching for your cheek, pinching it gently. ”a cheeky smile.”

your skin heats up, beneath his touch. and you blink, not saying a word, because there isn’t any need to. all the words you could ever want have already been painted out.

(well, maybe not quite all.)

”suguru.” you lean close, just a little, drinking him in. and he listens, as always, so you don’t bother beating around the bush. swallowing any embarrassment your tired mind can still feel. because your knight is right in front of you, eyes still red from crying, and you want him to be happy. “i think you’re my favorite person.”

he stills.

then he’s burning up. 

”wha — where did that come from?” he stammers, a strawberry hue to his ears, his neck, the tips of his fingers. enveloping him like a blanket of warmth.

you only shrug. ”you told me the truth. figured i should return the favour, for once.” a giddy, exhausted smile. “we’re both awful liars, huh?”

suguru opens his mouth. then he closes it, again, desperate to collect himself. you think he must be a little too exhausted to, and you wish you could say you felt bad. ”you… you can’t just —”

he squeezes his eyes shut. sighing. giving up, the gears of his mind grinding to a halt. your grin blooms wider.

”hehe.” you poke at his flushed cheek, and he cracks a single eye open. ”you’re blushing.”

he huffs, leaning away from your touch, and you find yourself enjoying the reversal of your usual roles. very much so. he tries to smile, tries to get one up on you, but he only blushes a deeper shade of red once your words reach his ears. 

so he settles for using cheap tricks.

”you’re hallucinating,” he scoffs, shoving your head into the fluffy pillows all around you. ever so gently, listening to your muffled giggles. trying to stifle his own joy. ”go back to sleep.”

”my blushy knight,” you coo, and he drags the blanket over your head. biting down on his lip to stop himself from joining your bubbly laughter, blushing more than ever. 

(the word knight sounds very pretty, when it’s falling from your lips.)

”i swear,” he exhales, heavy and exasperated, but you can hear the smile in his voice. ”just what am i to do with you?”

it’s fond. delicate, even in his bouts of teasing, the light instances of manhandling. and you’re happy, because he’s not apologizing anymore, and he’s happy because you aren’t crying anymore. give and take. there’s a rhythm to it, a point where everything else becomes background noise, whether it’s memories of a kidnapping or a decade-old guilt.

he stays with you all night, even after you’ve fallen asleep. just watching you, safeguarding you, checking your pulse every now and then. content to watch as your chest rises and falls, with the tender ticking of your heartbeat.

that night, you dream of a kind, kind wolf, and a painting yet to be finished. 

before you lies a field of stars.

you’re seated on a blanket, with a pretty knight to your left, up on top of a grassy hill. daffodils bloom around you, sweet nectar hanging in the air, a field of sunflowers waving at you from below. dragonflies greet you with a scratchy song. 

everything is perfect. a midnight rendezvous, a picnic under the stars — suguru’s own idea. to celebrate the time that you’ve spent together.

(well, that part was your idea. but you’re sure he appreciates it, too.)

the basket next to you is filled with fruit and berries, marmalade and jam, bottles of herbal tea. suguru’s delicious sandwiches. you bite into one of them, humming happily, and he’s quick to brush the occasional crumb from the corner of your lip, ghosting over your skin with a smile.

there’s another basket, too, just in front of you, that you brought on your own. hiding a secret; one you're just about to unveil. 

you clear your throat to get his attention.

like clockwork, he’s looking at you. listening, when  you tell him to close his eyes, only giving you a questioning raise of his brow and an amused exhale. 

you’re quick to lean forward, uncovering the basket, revealing the secret you’ve hidden so well. suguru is still waiting, indulgent, patient. you feel a little hesitant, but still part your lips.

“… okay. you can open them, now.”

he does. instantly, two ravens taking flight, and the sight that awaits them is that of a painting; a painting of a wolf, in the middle of the woods, empty armors and wilted sunflowers all around it. dragonflies and dragonflies, a knight just out of view.

he stares, silently, and you do your best to hide your growing nervosity. even as he takes it into his lap, and your gaze falls to the blanket below you. ”it’s… not my best work, but —” his eyes stay glued onto the painting, as you stumble blindly for the right words to say. wringing your hands together, clutching at the fabric of your sleeves. ”i’d… like you to have it. i mean, unless you —”

”thank you.”

you raise your head.

suguru is gazing at the canvas with the softest pair of eyes you’ve ever seen. melting amber, crinkled at the edges, accompanied by a sweet grin. 

”i’ll treasure it,” he vows, meeting your eyes, voice dripping with warmth. hand on his heart, and you can’t even poke fun at it. ”always.”

his earnest acceptance is enough to fluster you, enough to make you feel as it your heart is about to collapse, but he continues to look at the painting with enough awe to fill an empty lake with water, and it makes you terribly shy. 

until his smile drops.

”uh, actually — i…”

now it’s your turn to stare, silently, as he fumbles with something in the basket at his feet. gentle, as he takes out glass jars and wrapped sandwiches. out comes a sheet of paper. 

then he’s clearing his throat. handing it to you, pointedly avoiding your gaze. ”i’m not an artist, so you know. i just…” he coughs, a little out of his element. “well. here.”

with delicate hands, you accept it, bringing it down to your lap. big, curious eyes taking it in.

it’s a sketch — made with coal, a little smudged, but awfully charming. pretty, delicate.

it’s a sketch of a fox.

wide-eyed, all you can do is stare. gaze flitting up to meet his own, his nervous expression, before falling back to the little canine. ”you — this…” back and forth, over and over again. ”for — ?” 

you point to yourself. 

suguru only chuckles. ”yes, it’s for you. who else?” he taps the pads of his fingers against the handle of the basket, watching you silently admire the mischievous fox. not saying anything; so he continues.

”like i said; i’m not an artist. you can always throw it away, if you’d —”

”i’m gonna frame it.”

…

”i'm gonna frame it,” you repeat, eyes shining with sincerity. a little manic. ”i’ll hang it on the wall of the castle hallway so everyone can see it. it’ll be there for centuries to come, passed down —”

”please don't —”

”d’you think a gold frame would fuck up the vibe? maybe a modest silver is best.” you turn to face him, ignoring his blatant embarrassment. ”oooh, hang on! father knows this guy who makes them with real minerals. i’ll just —”

”your highness,” the knight cuts you off, almost with a squeak. ”please. it’s just a dumb drawing. i just… wanted to give it to you. that’s all.”

a pause. you look into his eyes, flickering with hesitance, an earnest desire for your approval only. so you hum, albeit a little hesitant.

”… alright. if you say so. i’ll hang it in my room, then.”

he sighs; relieved. ”that’s better. really, you —”

”thank you.” you whisper, blinking away the wetness at your lash-line. staring at the sketch with a dreamy, dreamy smile. ”i love it.”

you grin, happily, practically beaming. suguru wants to keep it there, always, on those pretty lips; he wants to lay his life on the line to protect it. but something tells him that would just make it fall. 

finally, everything clicks into place. the air fills with the scent of herbal tea, fresh strawberries, acrylic paint and hushed whispers. your own ritual, repeated over and over, like a loving waltz. 

as always, it’s suguru who breaks the silence. shatters it with the tip of his tongue. 

”hey,” he calls, softly. “my lord.”

mouth full of bread, you simply look at him. chewing silently, attention piqued. swallowing with a gulp. he places his folded hands on his lap, exhaling a little breath. ”… i’ve been thinking.”

”uh oh.”

silently, he gives you one of those flat, unimpressed looks of his, and you quiet down with a grin and another mouthful of bread. he quirks a brow, exhaling amusedly, then shakes his head and continues.

”i retract my earlier statement.”

when you glance up again, he’s smiling. showing more teeth than usual, a little wider, a little wolfish. a little more himself. you want to paint it, keep it hidden away somewhere only you can see.

”if it was someone else — anyone else…” he trails off, tasting the words on his tongue. “i doubt i’d feel this way. i doubt i’d want to protect them as fervently.” his voice flows out like a river of gold, just a little scratchy. it always is, when it sounds this sincere. 

he meets your eyes, and everything falls into place. 

”you’ve become precious to me,” he admits. ”i can't remember what it felt like to not be yours.”

his tongue curls around a familiar set of syllables, and your name seeps from his lips like a prayer, a vow, a trickle of honey and wine. devotion sticks to his tongue, to the vowels, a heavy fondness — something devout. something you've only ever heard from the mouths of priests.

and then he’s smiling. 

”i think i’ll be your knight until the day i die,” he breathes, and deep down you know it’s a vow. “even if the king discards me of that title.”

silence. except for an increasingly loud mantra of tick-tocks, from the depths of your own chest, echoing in your ears. your knight is in front of you, and he’s yours, and he’s smiling like he loves you. like he always will.

”… suguru.”

he hums, eyes lidded, blinking slowly. serenely. he lets you cling to him, pull him close, practically dragging him into your lap.

”stay with me,” you plead, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. too desperate to feel embarrassed. ”forever. promise me.”

an exhale, right by your ear. it sounds so fond you could cry. 

“i promise,” he whispers, fingers intertwining with your own. a perfect puzzle piece, a functional clockwork. lifting your hand, bringing his glossy lips to your knuckle; where they belong. ”until death tears me away from you.”

”it won’t,” you deadpan, partly to distract him from the growing heat of your fingertips. mostly because it’s true. ”you won't let it.”

he smiles against your knuckle, breathing out an airy laugh. ”clever little thing…” his free hand goes to rest on your spine, as always, and you lean back to see him properly. knowing he’ll catch you if you fall.

“.. but yeah," he sighs. "i won’t.”

before you know it, you’re leaning back in. because his eyes are the warmest shade of brown you’ve ever seen, and his hair is just a little tousled, and he looks so kissable it aches.

his jaw trembles, a little, when you press your lips against the curve of it. his whole body seems to still, for a moment, and you pull back just to see if he’s blushing. he is. 

but he must have anticipated your teasing, because he’s tucking you under his chin before you can see it through. pressing you close. and he tuts, a click of his silver tongue, a touch of restraint. ”… you little tease,” comes a whisper. ”how am i supposed to hold back now?”

”don’t hold back, dummy,” you grin, muffled against the column of his throat. you just barely resist the urge to sink your teeth into the skin. ”you’re a bad actor, anyway. the worst.”

and he is. he’s been looking at your lips this whole time — he couldn’t be more obvious if he tried.

suguru laughs, breathy, overflowing with fondness. chest rumbling with the noise, blending together with the rhythmic thumping of his clockwork heart. ”okay,” comes a soft lull of his tongue. ”i won’t, then.”

a drowsy feeling overtakes you, just as you feel his lips meet the crown of your head. it’s not much, but it’s a start. and it’s tender, tender enough to get you choked up, to get you to close your eyes to stop any tears from forming. because one person in this kingdom understands you, and he tells you that he’ll never leave. and you think you can actually find it in you to believe him. 

one person’s clockwork heart never breaks for you, and maybe that’s enough to convince you to stop trying to push it there.

”you can sleep, if you’d like,” is whispered against your hair. soft, soothing, his palm on your spine. ”i’ve got you. always.”

(one person in this world can make you feel safe, with just four little words. and isn’t that something?)

so you doze off, on the shoulder of your very own knight. your favorite knight, always and forever, a sword at his hip that was forged to protect you. or so he’ll tell you, years from now, when he’s got you in his lap, when there isn’t any need for him to act anymore.

and you dream a perfect dream. a dream of a wolf, and a fox, and a garden of stars.

[sin-oh]

❝ dying (for your love) ❞. . . ⇢ satoru gojo

˗ˏˋsummary: there’s never any time to think about your feelings for each other when you’re so focused on ensuring that you both live to see another day

˗ˏˋwc: 17.5k whew..

˗ˏˋcontains: gn!reader x gojo, zombie apocalypse au, slowburn, angst with a happy ending, descriptive violence, minor injuries, use of guns/other weapons, lots of physical touch, codependency, clingy gojo 🥺, heavy pining/yearning etc etc, sugu + shoko cameo, one (1) heated argument, cursing, suggestive language used near the end (MDNI)

˗ˏˋa/n: [inhales deeply] first of all, big big BIG THANK U to my beloved io @elusivemoon for beta reading this behemoth of a fic u r my rock fr i love u soo so bad. im also tagging @softgirlgonehaywire @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat and @anthoosies for hyping me up so much 🙈<3 + some more lovely beautiful friends tagged below bc this fic was in the works for a good minute now. i hope u all enjoy reading my longest word-vomit to date :3 and do let me know if there's anything i missed for the content warnings!!

extra: fic playlist by @elusivemoon + series mlist :3

you think you’re hearing the haunting moans of the undead echoing in the distance, or perhaps you’re simply imagining things — but it’s a constant reminder of the perilous world you now inhabit nonetheless. a world that succumbed to an epidemic, at the hands of a fatal illness that truthfully did nothing to really make you stay dead.

as the moonlight illuminates the path you and satoru are currently walking on, you have to rely heavily on your senses. the only sounds emitting from the two of you at the moment are that of crunching leaves underneath thick, dirt-covered boots and the occasional shuddering breath being exhaled. in the otherwise eerie silence, you both stand guard beside each other, eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger as you trek through the dense forest.

a twig snaps underneath your feet, and in an instant satoru’s eyes are on you — gaze flitting up and down and all around your figure, double and triple checking that you’re out of harm's way. his free hand, the one not holding his weapon of choice, reaches out gingerly; he gently grabs your elbow,tugs once, and a soft “stay close,” is uttered from his lips. two words he finds himself saying to you almost every day.

you couldn’t possibly stand any closer to him, but you nod your head and match your steps with his anyway.

you occasionally glanced at him from your peripheral, unable to tear your eyes away from the man beside you. you both were once part of a small group of survivors — a mere 6 of you in total — but you’ve long since separated from them, though not fully by choice.

it was an ambush that ultimately cut your time with the others short. a large horde of zombies had appeared, and you didn’t have time to assess what was happening before you heard the sound of shots ringing out. one member of the group had gotten attacked, and two more were firing at the horde as they steadily approached. in a last minute effort to save yourselves the group had decided to split-up to divide and conquer, but you were unable to find them again after that.

that same day you had a close call when you turned your back to search for a familiar face, not having realized there was one zombie remaining that you didn’t kill. satoru had never run so fast in his life when he found you and spotted the creature behind you, unsheathing his gun with record speed just as rotting limbs extended in your direction. the sound of the bullet firing didn’t startle you nearly as much as the sight you were met with when you finally turned around — of gnarled, decaying flesh and bones, a mere inches away from your own skin. up close and way too personal for your own liking.

satoru was running on pure adrenaline and fear after that. by the time he reached you, he only remembers hastily grabbing your hand and running in the opposite direction when a part of the horde began to approach the sound of the shot he fired. the two of you never looked back, and to this day neither of you know if the others survived or not.

what you do know is that satoru saved your life that day, and that you both need each other more than either of you realize. there’s never any time to think about the implications of that, though. not when every day is a fight for survival on such a nightmarish landscape.

but that doesn’t affect how he cares for you, nor you him. it’s displayed through subtle actions each day, where you both cling to each other even as you walk with your weapons drawn. how you both subconsciously seek each other out in the night as you sleep, hands tightly clasped together as if you were both afraid the other would float away in their sleep. how every moment is built on a profound trust in one another.

it’s a silent promise that you’ll stay at each other’s side, facing whatever horrors await the two of you.

another twig snaps, though this time it’s not by fault of either of you. you and satoru immediately stop in your tracks, and his hand automatically finds yours as he grips it tight enough to make his knuckles turn white. you’d have probably gotten a little flustered because of his instinct to hold you close if a fear of the unknown wasn’t currently crawling up your throat instead.

by now you’re no stranger to fear, but even the familiarity wouldn’t ever help you get used to the way it makes your stomach sink into your guts.

with bated breaths, you and satoru exchange a glance. it’s quiet, maybe too quiet. you hope satoru’s hearing is better than yours right now, because you can feel your heart thrumming loudly in your ear drums to the beat of the paralyzing emotion overtaking your whole being.

there’s a rustle in the bushes, and just as quickly as you heard it, one of satoru’s weapons is drawn. it’s a small rifle he carries with him, though he has no real intention of firing the noisy weapon right now at least — he knows better than to do so in the middle of a dense forest at night, with you beside him nonetheless. he would never risk your life like that.

satoru takes a small step forward, maneuvering his body to be half shielding yours as he did. even though you have your own weapon ready — a baseball bat fashioned with barbed wire wrapped all around the barrel — satoru was the one to move first, all with the intention of ensuring your own safety. you can take care of yourself, for sure, and he knows that you’re more than capable, but he does it anyway. you think it’s likely for his own peace of mind, but you never question it.

looking out for each other is simply an unspoken agreement the two of you have. you never needed to ask him to stand in front of you or hold you when you’re feeling anxious because he simply does it anyway. just as you do him.

another rustle comes from the bushes, and this one is more prominent, unmistakeable. satoru tightens his grip on the rifle, though you wonder what he’ll do if it actually turns out to be another zombie. he surely can’t fire it, lest he alerts anyone or anything of your location, but maybe he’ll use the butt of the rifle to knock down the zombie. it would definitely buy you enough time to land your own hit as well; just one fell swoop at the head and the undead will be dead once more.

as it turned out, the source of the noise in the bush was merely a false alarm. you were sure you could hear panting, and you tilted your head in confusion until the sound of a whine made you blink in surprise. it sounded like it was coming from an injured animal, perhaps it was a dog? you shared a glance with satoru, who was equally as confused, and then hesitantly you took a step forward.

“careful,” satoru whispered to you, as he slowly lowered the rifle in his hands, his shoulders relaxing but not enough to completely let his guard down. he watched you hold the bat at your side as you knelt down, moving the leaves of the bush out of the way until you saw the source of the noise. indeed, it was a dog — you weren’t sure of the exact breed in the dark but it was an average sized one; it couldn’t have been no more than 30-40 lbs in weight. the dog looked up at you with uncertain eyes, ears tucked back and teeth snarled when you brought your hand close to it.

upon further examination the dog appeared to be stuck in the bush, sharp thorns digging into one of its back legs and drawing small amounts of blood. the poor thing was injured and struggling to free itself.

“it’s stuck…” you murmured softly, voice directed at satoru as your gaze remained fixed on the animal before you. satoru was now standing beside you, leaning his weight on his knees as he hunched forward to examine the dog as well. he hummed softly, a frown making its way onto his face.

you shared another look with him, and he nodded without saying a word (you’ve both learned to silently communicate with each other, after all). turning your attention back to the dog, you began to pull apart the branches surrounding it, making sure not to startle the dog and stress it out any further. once you cleared enough of it you carefully started to pull apart the branches stuck to its leg, shushing it gently when it started to growl and whine at you. the very second you freed it from the branch it lunged forward, jumping past you and several feet away. it was limping on its back leg, but the dog seemed more relaxed in your presence now.

“there we go,” you smiled, standing back up on your feet. satoru mirrored your smile, feeling the weight in his chest loosen up at the rare sight. he liked seeing you happy, it made his heart race in a way that he tried not to think about too much.

he was just… content, seeing the light shine in your eyes in fleeting moments like this. a glimmer of hope in an otherwise barren world, a reminder that he still had you — and you him.

it was only several more minutes of walking — along with the dog you rescued who had begun following you — before you both found the very thing you’d been searching for so late in the night — a creek.

“if we follow the stream, we should find the shop pretty easily.” satoru reminded you, to which you nodded your head. you’d both received some intel from survivors you’d met in passing earlier in the day, information about a convenience store that hadn’t been completely ransacked yet due to it’s remote location. through the dense woods and then along the creek, follow the stream until the river bends west and then walk exactly east of that.

it was pretty straightforward, and the people you’d met seemed reliable enough with their information. thus, you both decided to trek the path earlier in the day — only, you’d underestimated how thick the woods were.

nevertheless, the information you’d both received turned out to be true. just east of the bend at the river you spotted a small road, leading into the parking lot of an isolated convenience store. it was a shocker that there was even something this far out in the woods, but it’s not like you were about to complain.

the gravel crunched underneath your boots as you walked slowly through the parking lot, and satoru fished around inside his backpack for his flashlight before clicking it on, pointing it in the direction of the store.

“let’s make it quick, i already don’t like that we’re doing this at night.” he murmured, gently nudging your side as he spoke. you nodded your head, turning to glance over at him for a quick second only to find that he’d already been looking at you. when your eyes met you gave each other reassuring smiles, and he brushed his hand against yours for a moment; though he was holding the flashlight in that hand, you felt his pinky curl around your thumb and squeeze gently before he let go, eyes landing back ahead of him.

satoru was the first to walk in the store, stepping carefully over the broken glass shards on the ground where the door had previously been. he shone his flashlight down the aisles, looking both ways inside the store before beckoning you over. “coast seems clear, c’mon.”

you glanced behind you for a moment, where the dog had opted to stay outside as opposed to walking all over the broken glass, and then you looked back ahead and began to follow satoru inside. you had your own flashlight, holding it in the same hand that held your bat, leaving your other hand free to grab onto the back of satoru’s jacket for purchase as you moved closer to him.

the store itself was dark and eerily quiet, save for the gusts of wind blowing in from the broken entryway. several aisles in the front had been cleaned out by travelers already, but closer towards the back your luck finally seemed to turn around. you’d spotted a small pharmacy, gently tugging on satoru’s jacket twice to get his attention as you pointed your flashlight in the other direction.

(that was just another way you two figured out how to communicate with each other without saying a word. if you happened to be standing behind him (or vice versa), holding him by his clothing, you merely just had to tug on the fabric.

tug once to stop walking, twice to get his attention, three times if there’s danger. it was simple and effective.)

“let’s stock up on meds,” you whispered, and he nodded, now following your lead as you headed in the direction of the pharmacy. you set the flashlight down on the counter, silently handing him over your bat before placing your palms down on the flat surface. hoisting yourself up, you hopped onto the counter and swung your legs around, landing softly on the ground on the other side. “stay there, i’ll be quick.”

satoru nodded. though, even in the dark, you didn’t miss the look of concern that flashed over his features for a short moment. “be careful.” he whispered back, for the nth time in the night, as he watched you disappear down the aisles in the back, heading towards the stockpiles of medicine. though he couldn’t see you, he could see the shine of the light from your flashlight on the walls, and it calmed him down enough to let you go on your own.

you inhaled a deep breath, making a mental list of all the supplies you currently had, what you were short on, and what you needed. though you and satoru had a means of transportation that you used every now and then, you still couldn’t afford to be carrying too much in your backpacks, lest it weighs on you and slows you down. a quick scan of the short aisles was found to be of use; you pocketed several emergency medications, some over the counter and some that you knew would have to have been prescribed under normal circumstances. they were the harder, more effective painkillers, which were all the more addictive.

you tossed several items in your bag, as well as some extra gauze and other medical kit items you happened upon, and once you were satisfied you zipped it all up and pulled it over your shoulders again. the haul was simple and quick, a little too easy, and you let your guard down too much because of it. you’d nearly missed the low growl just around the corner of one of the aisles, in the very direction you were headed.

you stopped in your tracks, hairs immediately raising on the back of your neck as all of your senses were alerted. you peeked around the corner and lo and behold, there it was — a zombie, limping about with its head hanging low. it seemed unaware of your presence, of the way you nearly stumbled backwards in fear, your heart racing in your chest as your back hit the shelf behind you with a small thud.

you froze in place at the sound, hearing a soft grunt emitted from the creature, and you could hear the way it dragged its feet as it slowly approached the aisle where you were hiding. your hands trembled as you tried to think of what to do, instinctually reaching behind you to grab your weapon from your backpack, except—

fuck. you left it with satoru.

wait— satoru.

you scrambled for purchase as you stood up straighter, trying to peer through the shelves to spot the white haired male, but you couldn’t see him very well from the corner you were at. you were also certain he couldn’t see you, nor the zombie for that matter, but what you could see was the faint glow of the light he was shining inside the pharmacy as he waited for your return.

in that very instant, a lightbulb might as well have shone above your head the way your face lit up with the idea you just got. biting your lip in anticipation, while also getting ready to make a run for it if needed, you pointed your flashlight up at the ceiling — a sight you were certain satoru would notice.

and then, you clicked it off. and on again. three separate times.

almost immediately you heard him, the sound of his boots squeaking on the floor as he hurriedly jumped over the counter, running through the aisles in search of you. the zombie, who was once mindlessly walking around, seemed to be more alert now, as another growl tore through its gnarled lips before it started to follow the sound from satoru. you took the chance to catch it by surprise, grabbing the largest item you could find within reach, and tossing it in the opposite direction, hoping to lead it away from him.

the commotion from the object you tossed helped satoru figure out where you were hidden, but it only worked to anger the creature further, as its eyes seemed to follow the source of the noise and trace it back to you. upon making eye contact you audibly gulped, and just as the creature lunged at you, you quickly dodged its bony fingers and ran past it, shoving it to the side in the process and just barely missing the way it almost tore into your arm.

you weren’t really paying much attention to where you were going, just running on pure adrenaline by that point. you blindly turned a corner and came face to face with another body, one you were too panicked to discern, making you yelp in shock when you felt a strong set of arms wrap around you.

“hey, hey,” satoru’s voice broke through the haze just before you could shove him away, and you could only blink in surprise as he pulled you tighter into him, shushing you gently as his eyes searched the surrounding area. “you’re okay, it’s just me. i got you, you’re safe now.”

as he spoke he pulled back from the hug, eyes scanning over you as best he could in the dark to assess whether or not you’d been hurt. but then his head snapped up at the sound of the zombie approaching, and just as quickly you snapped out of it too. you pulled your bat out of satoru’s backpack as he grabbed another weapon of his, a silencer that truthfully was in need of another reload soon, and you both got into position.

the zombie lunged at you again but you were better prepared this time, swinging the bat in your hands hard enough to knock it down on the floor. just as you did this you felt satoru’s hand on your shoulder, and he stepped around you to point the silencer at the head of the zombie before pulling the trigger, taking the final shot at the creature.

it slumped into the ground, finally dead, and though the adrenaline was still slow to leave your system you were admittedly much more relaxed now. especially because satoru’s hand was now sliding down your back, turning you around and pulling you back into his chest once more.

he held you firmly, about as firmly as he held you on that fated day a few months back, just after you’d both narrowly avoided the chase of a horde. his breathing was labored against your hair, though you were not doing any better — huffing softly against his chest as you hugged him back just as tightly, letting the bat fall to your feet to focus on returning his embrace.

neither of you said anything after that, but satoru couldn’t have been standing any closer to you as you both made your way through the rest of the shop, occasionally grabbing some extra food and other miscellaneous supplies before finally heading back out into the night. the same dog from before had been patiently waiting the whole time, bounding over to your side excitedly once you both emerged into the parking lot.

you both then made the trek back through the forest, weapons in tow and satoru’s hand firmly grasping yours once more.

the sound of you whistling was equally as soft as it was loud enough to capture satoru’s attention, and satoru’s head snapped up from where he was fastening the tarp over the back of the pickup truck you both hijacked a month or two ago. using the tarp to conceal some supplies and belongings you two had gathered over the last few days, he tightened the knot and closed the trunk before stepping around the pickup and over to your side.

“check this out,” you waved him over, eyes fixed on a point past the trees in the surrounding area. you lifted a hand to point in the direction you were staring and he followed your gaze, raising an eyebrow in intrigue when he spotted what you were talking about — a road sign.

more specifically, a road sign with coordinates spray painted over it. longitude and latitude coordinates.

“huh,” he hummed, nodding his head slowly. “what d’you think that’s for?”

you shrugged, turning around to face the passenger side of the car as you spoke. “could be anything, really,” you mumbled, reaching inside through the lowered window of the car and opening the glove compartment to pull out the road map you’d both been using, as well as a small pencil.

you walked over to the hood of the car, placing the map flat on the surface of it and smoothing it down as you read the coordinates on the road sign again. “it could be another supplies shop, an abandoned facility turned refuge, a small community…” you trailed off as you spoke again.

satoru nodded in agreement, helping you pinpoint roughly the exact location the coordinates had set, and it appeared to be about a couple hours worth of driving away from you two.

“you wanna check it out?” he offered, leaning on the hood of the car as his glaze flitted up to your face. the expression you adorned seemed contemplative; you chewed on your lower lip for a short moment before decidedly making up your mind. with a small nod you met his eyes, giving him a small smile of intrigue.

“sure, why the hell not?”

satoru grinned with you — he couldn’t help matching his smile with yours every time he saw it — raising his hand and squeezing your shoulder before wrapping an arm around you. “sounds like a plan, let’s hit the road.”

you both climbed into the pickup, and the dog (the very same one you rescued the other night) excitedly sat in-between the two of you on the cushion of the large seat. and then you were off, headed towards the nearest highway to begin the drive to the unknown location.

“okay, so,” you began, examining the map and the road signs around you as satoru began to press on the brake, slowing down just enough to look at the surroundings. “according to the map it should be a little offset from this road, north east from here.” you pointed forward and satoru nodded, carefully pulling the pickup off the road.

“i think we should find some place nearby to crash for the night, in case it turns out to be nothing.” satoru thought out loud, glancing at you for a moment before fixing his gaze back on the road. the dog at this point had laid down beside you, its head on your lap, and satoru couldn’t help smiling fondly at the sight.

“yeah that’s a good idea, i think down there’s an old residential area… you wanna try scoping it out?” you suggested, and satoru nodded in agreement.

you both drove for several more minutes before deciding to pull over in a secluded area, making sure to mark where you left the car hidden from the main road, and then you both grabbed your backpacks and started the short trek to the abandoned residential area you’d spotted. the dog followed closely behind you two, and as you both approached the street, satoru’s hand once again reached out to grab yours and squeeze it gently.

it seemed that anywhere you both went these days, satoru’s hand always sought out yours. whether it was for comfort or to remind himself that you were nearby, or perhaps to even soothe yourself, you weren’t sure. but you squeezed his hand back, anyway. you let him know you were still there with him.

he doesn’t let go of your hand until you both find a small house down the road, only doing so to fasten his grip around his rifle as the two of you prepared to enter the abandoned home.

it’s important to make sure the place is safe first before entering it. that includes ensuring the home is not only zombie-free but also human-free. you’ve both had your fair share of incidents and run-ins with some bad folk, and you didn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression if they saw two total strangers trying to sleep in the very same place they’d taken as refuge.

but as you both entered the house, the distinct lack of any signs of life was evident in the dusty appearance it had. the door creaked on its hinges as satoru pushed it open, and instantly the dog was squeezing past the two of you,sniffing out the area. whether or not he was also searching for any hints of someone or something’s presence, it was unclear to the two of you. yet you both trusted the dog would react to anything out of the ordinary, so you stepped inside with small sighs of relief.

“it doesn’t have a second floor, so we should both be good here for the night.” satoru said aloud, to which you nodded in response. the two of you spent the next hour or so prepping the home and ensuring all the doors were locked, curtains drawn and windows boarded before sealing yourselves in one of the bedrooms.

it was routine, at this point. find a place to stay, seal it off, stay close to each other. that’s what you both did every time; that’s why you never questioned why satoru was particularly clingier during the nights with you. how he tugs on the hem of your shirt, pulling you closer to him as he approaches the bed you’d both be sleeping in, not wanting you out of his sight even for a single moment.

“i wonder what we’ll find there,” he thought out loud, lifting the blanket on the mattress and shaking the dust off of it before setting it back down. he did the same with the pillows, and then his attention was back on you, grabbing your elbow and gently urging you to climb into the bed with him. it was subconscious, almost pure instinct the way he did it. and you followed without a second thought, just as you always did.

“i hope it’s not a waste of our time, that’s for sure,” you huffed softly, slipping your shoes off and glancing over at the dog laying in the corner of the room one last time before climbing in next to satoru. you pulled the blanket over your legs, and satoru’s arm was soon finding its way across your shoulders, pulling you further into his side. “though this area doesn’t seem so bad, maybe we could stay here for a bit too.”

satoru simply hummed in response, his other arm sliding across your midsection while your own arms wrapped around his torso. your head plopped onto his shoulder, and just like that you both lay, relaxing against the kind of comfortable bedding that you rarely ever come across these days.

satoru closed his eyes for a moment when your head nuzzled further against him, lips parting slightly with every soft breath you exhaled. he felt that familiar pull in his heart again, tugging towards you, naturally. his arms tightened around you with the feeling, swallowing thickly as to push away what he knew was coming next — the intrusive thoughts.

thoughts of not being able to keep you safe, of losing you to the madness that’s overtaken the world. or worse yet — of him dying. of you being left alone, with no one to hold you at night the same way he is at this very moment. he can’t stomach the thought of you being alone; he thinks he fears that more than the prospect of his own death in that equation.

satoru just… he just wants you to be safe and cared for. the world is so, so barren… and so lonely. he wouldn’t be so worried about this if you both still had your group with you, but now you both were all that was left of it. he was all you had left, and you were all he had left. he promised himself a long time ago that he was never going to leave your side, no matter what.

“satoru.”

“hmm?” he hummed, rubbing your shoulder soothingly in a way that showed you that you had his attention.

“stop thinking so much,” you yawned, pinching his waist softly, making the man chuckle. “get some sleep.”

“okay, okay. i’ll try.”

he closed his eyes again, his head lolling to the side and leaning on top of your own as you both drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. dreaming of a kinder world, a world where he got to simply be with you and not have this lingering fear in the back of his head. one that always seems to remind him that every sweet moment could have such a bitter end.

he falls asleep with you in his arms, safe and sound for the night being. all with the promise of getting to see the sun again by the time you’ve awoken.

“i think this is it,” you muttered, lowering the map shielding your view to scan the area ahead of you once again. yet another stretch of woods that didn’t seem as promising as you’d both hoped it’d be.

satoru whistled lowly, a hand resting on his hip as he quirked a brow and looked around. “should we keep walking? see if there’s anything worthwhile?”

you hummed softly, contemplative but a little dejected in manner. a sigh escaped your lips as you pocketed the sordid map, head lolling to the side afterwards to spare an uncertain glance at satoru. even if he didn’t know you like the back of his hand, if he didn’t commit every single mannerism and expression of yours to memory, reciting it like you were his favorite poem — he still could’ve just as easily picked up on your reluctance to go any further. but he also saw an insatiable curiosity in your eyes, so all it really took was a gentle nudge in your side to convince you.

“c’mon, let’s at least make sure this wasn’t a complete waste of our time.”

you pursed your lips in consideration again before nodding slowly, giving him a playful smile as you gestured ahead of you. “ladies first,” you teased him, followed by a snort when he stuck his tongue out at you in response.

he lead the way for a few steps before slowing down his pace, all with the intent of walking side by side and grabbing your hand. he swung it back and forth for a bit, relishing in the small giggles that left your lips.

“someone’s awfully cheerful today.” you mused, beaming up at him when he gave you a bashful grin in response.

“i guess i just… have a good feeling about this, i dunno.” he shrugged, smiling down at you in a way that warmed up your whole being more effectively than the sunlight peeking through the tree branches above you.

you chewed on your lip as you nodded, eyes flitting down to the dog who was walking just a few feet ahead of you both, curiously sniffing the ground with every step it took. you tilted your head in amusement, about to comment on the action, but then a shot rings out and a bullet hits the ground just ahead of the dog.

a sharp cry leaves the startled animal as he stumbles away from the sudden sound, ears back and tail tucked between its legs while it quickly runs to hide behind you and satoru. the sound also startled you both, as you were instantly grabbing a hold of each other, eyes darting in all directions, frantically searching for the source of the shot.

“you there!” a voice calls out, booming with every syllable, and the moment satoru spots the source of the speaker he’s stepping in front of you, shielding you protectively from the gun pointed in your direction.

“you both travelers?” the man, now appearing more fully from behind a large bush, calls out to you both as he speaks. you and satoru hesitate for a moment in your response, unsure how to assess the stranger, but then you both slowly nod in confirmation.

“this is a protected area.” he states with a click of his tongue, slowly lowering the gun yet still keeping his guard up. his eyes flit between the expressions on yours and satoru’s faces, and then he raises an eyebrow. “how’d you get all the way out here?”

“we, um,” you began, fingers curling around satoru’s arm a little tighter as you cleared your throat. “we came across some coordinates, we weren’t sure what to make of them so we decided to check out the location ourselves.” you answered truthfully, exhaling shakily once you’d finished speaking. “we— we mean no harm to you, promise.”

satoru nodded in agreement, though there was no denying the way his fingers twitched over the strap of his own rifle, pure instincts telling him to pull out the weapon and point it back at the man ahead of you two.

when the stranger took a second too long to respond, satoru took a careful step backwards, hand now firmly gripping the strap of his rifle that was slung over his shoulder. satoru’s other hand slid around your back, pulling you closer to him protectively as he raised his chin. “we can get out of your hair, if you’ll let us go.” satoru proposed, tone firm as he addressed the man who was still pointing his gun at the both of you.

the man tutted, brows still furrowed as he examined you both for another moment longer. he seemed to take a deep breath, grip tightening around his rifle, gaze narrowing, and then— his shoulders dropped, he lowered the gun in his hands and he nodded his head in the direction behind him.

“you two, follow me. you can bring the dog.”

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, and then shared a hopeful glance with satoru as you both carefully took a few steps forward. you're not sure how you didn’t notice it before but the man lead you both to a short trail that was close by, leading to a large fortified community at the end of it. giant wooden gates with watchtowers on every end and several more armed guards. satoru’s grip on his own weapon relaxed, but only for his other hand to tighten on your side, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

he tugged on your sleeve twice, hesitating around a third tug until he felt your arm link with his, pulling him down closer to whisper in his ear.

“this place seems pretty legit.”

his eyes flitted over to your expression, and it was that of pure awe. you were taking in all the surroundings with careful attention to detail as the gates opened up and you were both welcomed inside the community. satoru probably should’ve been paying more attention himself but he found it hard to tear his gaze away from the awestruck look on your face.

the way it made his heart swell, how he had this urge to squish the plump of your cheeks when you grinned widely, how the smile stretched across your whole face. he can’t remember the last time he’d ever seen you look so hopeful.

he was so caught up in your presence, he was almost convinced he dreamt up the next thing he heard.

“…suguru?”

the name registered in his head after a bit of a delay. it all happened so slowly, his senses only working one after the other. his eyes first saw the way your expression froze, your lips spelling out a name that looked familiar. then touch was next; he felt the way you tugged once on his arm, how your fingers curled around his wrist and tightened hard around him, hard enough for it to feel like the joints in your knuckles were going to get stuck in that position. finally, came sound — the sound of the gravel kicking in front of you both as you stopped dead in your tracks, the name you uttered, the object that dropped to the floor a few feet ahead of you both.

satoru turned his head and saw him. his eyes trailed up from the basket of fresh fruits at his feet (honestly, he can’t remember the last time he’s had a fresh strawberry), the trembling hands that had been holding that basket, and then his gaze finally landed on the shocked face of the man in question.

suguru geto, someone neither of you had seen in literal months, someone you thought to be dead for the longest time. a member of the small group of survivors you both used to be part of, the very group that you’d both stuck with since the beginning of the end.

“holy shit.” satoru’s voice finally caught up to him, though it sounded far away. he couldn’t believe his eyes, and neither could you — the two of you were blinking like deer caught in the headlights.

suguru was the one to move first, having caught his bearings faster than either of you. “huh… i can’t say i’m surprised you two made it out alive and together.” he chuckled, his shocked expression morphing into a breathy laugh as he stepped forward.

you were the next one to snap back to reality, breaking out into a laugh of your own as you let go of satoru and ran forward, immediately jumping into suguru’s space and pulling him in for a hug. “oh my god, oh my god! you— you’re alive, suguru! suguru you, you’re—”

you were rambling, laughing with the surprise you felt as you squealed at the sight of an old friend, another familiar face at the end of the world. satoru was silent, evidently still processing the presence in front of him as he took slow steps forward. you let go of suguru to look back at satoru and beckon him forward, and suguru grinned when he sensed the confusion in satoru’s face.

“c’mere man, i don’t bite. it’s just me.”

satoru blinked again, but then he was smiling just as wide as he pulled suguru in for another bone-crushing hug of his own, gripping the other man tightly as he breathily laughed against his shoulder.

“fucking hell, suguru,” satoru laughed, still in shock, and he couldn’t help the way he started rocking side to side as they held each other. “have you just been chilling here this whole time?”

suguru laughed with him, patting his back before pulling away from the hug to look him in the eyes as he spoke. “technically, there were a few weeks of shoko and i just wandering around before we found this place, and we’ve been here ever since.” suguru beamed, his smile growing when he heard you gasp beside him.

“shoko’s here too?!” you gaped, eyes no wider than the smile on your face as you hurriedly spun around, looking around to search for her.

“yup,” he grinned, raising his hand and pointing in the direction of a small shop across the street. “last i saw she was just over there, checking out some vegetables.” suguru said, and before he could get another word out you were excusing yourself to run off in that very direction, searching for the woman in question.

satoru was smiling too at the news, and when he saw you run off to find her he stepped forward to follow you, as was his instinct; only, a firm hand on his chest stopped him from doing so.

“wha—” he stammered as he turned to look at suguru, unsure why the other man was stopping him from following your trail.

“we can meet up with them in a minute, there’s something i wanna ask you real quick,” suguru announced, slinging an arm around his friend as he pulled him back in the opposite direction. satoru was unsure how to respond to that, unsure what to make of this weird sensation in his chest, turning his head to glance over in the direction you’d run off in while suguru knelt down to retrieve the basket he’d dropped.

it was like an itch he couldn’t scratch. suguru almost didn’t pick up on the way it made satoru look desperate to keep you in his sights, if not for the way the taller man kept glancing back every now and then as he followed suguru to a small house down the street.

“so,” suguru huffed, dropping the basket down onto a table before turning to face satoru, crossing his arms over his chest with a raised brow. he opened his mouth to say something else when he noticed satoru was not paying attention, instead anxiously tapping his foot and looking out the windows of the home.

“they’re fine, y’know…” suguru mumbled, seemingly reading satoru’s mind, the concern he held for you plastered all over his face. “this place is completely safe. we rarely get anyone to join the community since it’s pretty remote, and everyone here is extremely nice. i trust all of them with my life.”

when suguru says this satoru only nodded slowly, gaze still fixed on the window as he tried to peer down the street. he finally caught sight of you exiting the shop you ran into a few minutes prior, arm linked with shoko’s while you both excitedly chatted together. there was a skip in your step, satoru noted.

suguru noticed the way satoru’s demeanor visibly relaxed, with the faintest smile appearing on his face.

“you two finally got together, then?”

this is what catches satoru’s attention, what has him facing suguru with his mouth gaping wide open. “wha— what are you—”

suguru cuts him off with a chuckle, shaking his head gently. “is that a no? honestly, the way you were holding onto each other earlier, i’d have suspected otherwise.” he teased.

satoru only frowned with suguru’s comments, a trace of uncertainty mixed with another emotion pooling in his gut and making his heart clench a little. “i— i’m not sure what you’re, uh… we didn’t— i, um…” he stammered, cheeks tinting a dusty pink shade with how flustered he’d become.

suguru’s teasing grin fell a little bit, seemingly understanding the flurry of emotions that caught satoru off guard. it’s hard, after all — hard to entertain something so trivial when you’ve only ever had the time to worry about your own survival for longer than you can even remember.

it’d only been a couple of years since the apocalypse began, but to anyone on the outside of this community, it was like a lifetime had passed.

“forget i said anything,” suguru smiled comfortingly, extending a hand to squeeze satoru’s shoulder. his own attempt at soothing the crease in satoru’s brow, helping bring the taller man back to the present moment and out of the rampant thoughts in his head. “why don’t we go meet up with the others and i’ll show you both around?”

satoru nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as he let suguru lead him out of the small house and back onto the streets, over in the direction where you and shoko were chatting on a bench.

it was a heartfelt reunion with the four of you, and as suguru and shoko showed you both around and introduced you two to the rest of the community, nobody commented on the way satoru was gripping onto the hem of your jacket the whole time. even though suguru and shoko shared a knowing glance, they knew better than to say anything. not with the way satoru’s voice cracked, lips shaping themselves into a small pout whenever you would move away from him, even if it was just to examine something closer.

even as you both were officially inducted by the heads of the community, and brought to the townhouse you would be staying at, satoru still felt that strange ache in his chest when you unlocked the front door and you both walked in to find that there were two beds, rather than just one.

you could say he was a little attached, but he was just dreading sleeping in his own bed tonight.

“hey, ‘toru?”

you snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked a little dumbly as he fixed his gaze on you. he saw the furrow in your brows, and like clockwork he was stepping closer to you, reaching forward to lightly pinch your arm in an affectionate gesture.

“hmm? you okay?”

you nodded your head, wrapping your hand around his wrist and holding his arm gently before you pointed in the direction of the bedroom with your free hand. “which, um… which bed do you want?”

his eyes flitted to the beds behind you, and then back to the expectant look on your face. it was an odd expression, almost like you weren’t sure of the answer yourself.

it doesn’t matter. i’ll sleep wherever you want to sleep.

“uh, you can go ahead and pick first. i’m good either way.” is what he replied with instead, shrugging his shoulders and almost wincing at the tug he felt in his heart when you gave him a sheepish grin.

“alright… if you say so,” you giggled softly, chewing on your lower lip as you glanced over at the two beds before turning back to him. “i think i’ll just take the one in the corner, then, if that’s alright.”

satoru smiled at you, maneuvering the grip you had on his wrist to slide his hand into yours with ease. “it’s all fine with me.”

you gazed at each other like this for another moment longer, and then your attention was pulled away from satoru when you felt the dog pawing at your leg, whining softly beside your feet.

“oh, you must be hungry,” you pouted, giving an apologetic smile to the dog as you turned around. “here, i got you something at the food stall earlier with shoko.”

satoru watched as you turned around, letting go of his hand to walk over to the backpack you’d set down near the front door. you fished around inside of it before pulling out a paper wrapping, revealing the diced potatoes you’d gotten. you picked one out from the wrapping and knelt down, extending your hand forward to offer the piece of food to the dog.

it sniffed your hand for a moment, assessing the food before gently taking a bite. you smiled wider as the dogs ears perked up, tail wagging and walking closer to you to get more of the potatoes.

“here, this is all for you, buddy.” you giggled, setting the wrapping down on the floor to let the dog eat from it in peace. satoru watched this exchange with another fond smile; there was a sort of domestic feeling about this that his heart really liked. it was beating rapidly in his chest when your eyes met his again and it didn’t slow down even as you approached him again.

“let’s get ready for bed then, yeah?”

earlier in the afternoon you were both offered a fresh change of clothing, as well as some utilities to shower and freshen yourselves up. you were pleasantly surprised to find that the running water was actually warm; you can’t even remember the last time you got to have a relaxing shower. you think you even almost cried underneath the shower head, the water dripping around your teary eyes as the relief finally settled after flooding into your body.

you can’t recall ever having felt so calm in your life.

satoru was faring similarly; he was unable to stop the laughter bubbling up in his chest the second the water pellets landed on his head, smoothing down his white hair that had been covered in dirt for months. even as he wiped the steam off the mirror once he stepped out, he almost didn’t recognize himself — almost didn’t recognize the stark brightness of the fluffy strands on his head.

he rubbed his face with the towel before stepping out, and he was surprised to find that you’d already fallen asleep on your bed, curled up on top of the covers and holding an extra pillow close to your chest. he lingered beside his own bed for a moment, his gaze fixed on you for a second longer before he urged himself to climb into his own bed and go to sleep.

he couldn’t blame you for falling asleep so fast, really. it was a blissful feeling getting to wash away the soreness in your muscles, the dirt and grime that’d built up after months of traveling through a barren world. he even thinks the noise he just made was almost akin to a purr; a moan of pure content as he sunk into the mattress, head falling against the pillow as he willed his bones to melt against the cushions.

and yet, he still couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep.

couldn’t quite ignore the building ache in his chest again, an anxious bubble in his heart that wouldn’t pop no matter how hard he poked and prodded at it. he rolled onto his side, facing one end of the room where the dog was laying comfortably on a small bed you’d set up on the floor for it; a pile of throw blankets and a pillow for the little companion you’d both made in your travels.

he squeezed his eyes shut, unaware of how tightly he was gripping the pillow beneath his head. he rolled onto his back again, tossing and turning for what must have been 10 whole minutes before he finally faced you again. he noted the way you were holding the pillow to your chest, nuzzling your head against it.

he thinks if there was anything that could quell the rapid beating of his heart right now, it would be the feeling of your hair tickling his jawline, fluffy strands poking at the exposed skin of his neck as you slept on his own chest.

“satoru?”

satoru blinks, lifting his head up at the sound of your voice from across the table. you were both sitting in the breakfast hall near the community square, having joined suguru and shoko for the morning to catch up with the two of them. satoru hadn’t really been doing much of the talking, though.

“sorry, i spaced out a little.” he murmured, giving you a small smile. he could tell you didn’t fully believe his words from the way you narrowed your gaze questioningly, but he gently nudged your leg with his shoe. “you were saying?” he added playfully, highlighting the lighthearted remark with a small tilt of his head.

truthfully, satoru was exhausted. he barely got a lick of sleep the whole night. he didn’t want to convey that to you, though; how else was he supposed to explain that it was the most relaxed his muscles had felt in ages, and yet he still couldn’t quell the anxious feelings that bubbled up. what initially started as a low simmer in his chest now had the threat of boiling over and spilling out of his heart. he was losing his grip, and he couldn’t even begin to explain why.

“well, i… was just wondering,” you continued after another moment, eyes worriedly scanning satoru’s demeanor before flitting back to the other two on your table. “since it’s just you and shoko here, would you happen to know what happened to the rest of the group?”

you worded the question as carefully as you could manage, watching for their reaction to the presumably sensitive topic. just as you’d anticipated, suguru’s expression fell, his lips curving downwards into a frown as he averted his gaze.

“they, um…” shoko, who was sitting beside you, spoke up to answer your question instead. “most of ‘em didn’t make it. we— we tried to go back and save some of them, but…” she trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip as she too looked to the side.

“there wasn’t much we could do, in the end… we had to be selfish, to save ourselves.” suguru added after a moment, his gaze now focused on nothing in particular while he directed his voice in your direction.

satoru had been silently picking at the food on his plate for most of the conversation up until now. after hearing suguru’s response, satoru’s actions paused, and he slowly lifted his eyes up from the table to see the expression on your face. your lips were also downturned, gaze cast down on the table while you used your nails to pick at the corner of your plate.

satoru’s eyes then trailed downwards, past the small clench of your jaw and your stiff posture before finally landing on your other hand. it was extended a little forward on the table, past your plate and resting near the corner of satoru’s own. he instantly noticed a subtle twitch in your fingers, how they almost tapped absentmindedly on the table.

your wrist then began to turn, fingers slowly unfurling to reveal your palm, which was now facing the ceiling. and when satoru looked back up, he saw that your eyes were already on him. without breaking eye contact for a single second, he lifted his hand from the table and slid it over to yours, gently pressing two of his fingers into the center of your palm.

and he felt that ache in his chest again when your own fingers immediately wrapped around his.

“but what matters is that we’re here now,” shoko breaks the tense silence once more, sliding closer to your side on the seat and wrapping an arm across your shoulders. “all of us. we finally found each other again.”

it’s unanimous across the four of you, how you all stick by each other’s sides. with the dynamic of a found-family in the midst of so much chaos — you’ve all finally reached a point where you can settle down and discuss these things amongst each other. it’s a well-deserved breath of fresh air.

yet, satoru still feels it. the slight tremble in your hands, how your fingers slide into his own palm and grip his hand tightly. it’s then that he comes to terms with it, that near-paralyzing emotion in his chest.

satoru needed this, all of this. he needed the break, the ability to settle down and clear his mind for once — but most importantly, he needed you.

he needs you; he thinks he always will need you, for as long as he has the fortune of living in the very world you reside. your own existence permeates into the depths of his soul, making him feel like he was always meant to be with you — regardless of the circumstances that led you to him. the very same circumstances that forever changed the world around you both.

the breakfast hall starts to clear up, and the four of you gather your plates and set them aside for the community volunteers that work in the kitchens. by the time you’re all back out underneath the sun, the mood seems to brighten up once more. suguru is smiling again and shoko is laughing about something with you but satoru still feels stuck, like the weight of his emotions is finally caving in on his heart. what he actually needs right now is a moment to pull himself together.

it’s not until he makes a move to excuse himself — to walk back to the small house you both share — that he realizes you were still holding his hand in your own. when you turn to face satoru with a questioning glance, he offers you a small smile.

“i’m gonna go check in with the dog,” he tells you, a lie sprinkled with some truth to disguise it better. “i thought i’d give him my leftovers from breakfast.”

it doesn’t seem convincing enough, but his hand slips out of your grasp before you could say anything about it. he dismisses himself from the conversation and waves at suguru and shoko, promising to return a little later before he walks off in the opposite direction.

now it’s your turn to feel his absence, unable to tear your gaze away from the trail he leaves in the grass as he walks away. if you’d asked him for an honest answer, he’d have told you he didn’t want to sour the mood with the raw emotions threatening to spill out of his heart. but then, you’d have simply responded by saying that the lack of his own presence near you was doing just that anyway.

you’d only managed to stick around with the other two for just a few more minutes before it started to eat away at you.

sometime later, a soft knock on the bedroom door is what pulls satoru out of his train of thoughts, and he looks up from where he was petting the dog lying comfortably on his lap to see you poke your head through the small opening in the door frame.

“hey there,” you murmured, smiling softly before slowly pushing the door open and stepping inside the room. “you okay? the others were pretty worried about you.” 

satoru offers you a small smile, eyes lingering on your own for a moment before he looks back down at the dog on his lap. “‘m okay, just a little tired today i think…”

you hummed in response, following his gaze and seeing how the dog nuzzled into his touch, appearing to be so content when satoru scratched softly behind its ear. “i get it. it’s a, um… a bit of an adjustment being here after everything,” you offered, closing the door behind you and walking over to him. you took a seat on the corner of the mattress, your hands fiddling on your lap as you thought about what to say.

ironically, satoru actually thinks that he should instead be having a harder time sitting still. how do you go from constantly moving, day in and day out, never once stopping to absorb anything in your surroundings for months — to then settling in one place for an indefinite period of time. it has barely been 24 hours since they found this small community but satoru simply thinks he should be wanting to do more, he should be craving it.

but he’s yet to feel that itch to keep moving, too caught up in all the other confusing feelings in his chest that weigh on his soul like an anchor. too caught up in the heat of your palm when you hold his hand; how you look at him like you’re trying to read his mind, even though he should be the one to soothe your worries instead. to smooth the crease in your brow with a gentle press of his lips on your skin, if you’d let him.

as you sit on his bed now, carefully studying his reactions — he also hesitates. he should be more surprised that he finally has the room to even think about something like this. when you’re both outside these gates — outside the fortification that protects you both from danger — you can’t afford to hesitate.

he never once had to think twice about his instinct to hold you close and never let you go, but right now it plagues his mind like the very disease you’ve both been running from all these years.

satoru went silent again. the hand petting the dog on his lap stills, and your gaze flits up to see the faraway look on his face. how his eyelids have started to droop, the exhaustion finally catching up to him. every few seconds he widens his eyes and blinks, as if trying to keep them from closing, but then they start to fall again against his will.

“did you get any sleep last night?” you finally asked him, scooting further up the side of the bed until you were sitting right beside him. he watched your movements with a sort of calculated precision, trying to make something of the sudden skip in his heartbeat, but then he sighs and leans back against the headboard.

“i couldn’t really fall asleep,” he admits, his voice heavy with the exhaustion that’s slowly seeping into his bones. you hummed in response, now feeling the urge to reach out for him. you lift a hand from your lap, pausing midair when you start to overthink your action — but satoru notices. his eyes meet yours and there’s this look in them you can’t quite figure out, but it’s like he’s silently screaming at you to do something. to welcome back the physical closeness you’d both grown so accustomed to the past few months. to hold him and never let go.

after another short moment, you finally lift your hand and extend it further, reaching up to smooth down the strands of his hair that were sticking out a little awkwardly. almost immediately his eyes fluttered closed, leaning into your touch with a sort of deprivation that’s been gnawing at him ever since you both got here.

the dog then jumps off his lap, startling you as you watch it land on the floor and walk to the other side of the room. you subconsciously start to pull your hand away, eyes fixed on the dog as it settled into the pile of blankets you left for him overnight. but then you feel satoru’s fingers curl tightly around your wrist, holding your hand in place.

“stay,” he croaks when you meet his eyes again, cerulean irises swimming with an intensity that’s almost foreign to you. “please…”

wordlessly, you nod. satoru moves aside on the mattress and it takes you a second too long to realize he’s inviting you into his space again. you climb in without another second wasted, feeling a weight lift from your heart when his arms wrap around your frame securely and pull you into his chest.

he exhales, closing his eyes and wrapping himself so tightly around you that it’d have been suffocating if you weren’t hugging him back just as tightly. it’s not long before he ends up falling asleep like that, finally able to relax again now that he’s holding you close.

you find yourself falling asleep in his arms as well. neither of you say anything about it, and you surely don’t question it later on in the evening when he climbs into your own bed for the night — as he continuously does for every night that follows.

a week has now passed, and it’s officially the longest time you’ve both spent in any given place for the last 4 months. satoru still climbs into your bed every night, and though the ache in his chest has yet to leave, he thinks it’s much easier to manage now.

that is, until he wakes up one morning to an empty bed.

he thinks nothing of it at first; stretching his arms out blindly to feel around for you, thinking you probably rolled around in your sleep and slipped out of his grasp. no worries, he can just curl up into your side again to sleep in a little more. maybe even slink his arm around your waist and pull you back into him. but when he’s met with nothing but a persistent lack of your lingering warmth on the sheets, he peels his eyes open and lifts his head from the pillow to really take a good look. he finds that you’re not in the room at all.

again, he doesn’t bat an eye. a part of him wishes he could’ve woken up with you but he had a late night chatting with suguru, so he doesn’t necessarily blame you for getting up first to grab breakfast without waiting for him. he stretches his arms above his head with a sleepy squeak, sitting up and craning his neck to the side to catch a glimpse of the dog, who was sleeping soundly in his little corner of the room.

satoru gets up then, changing into some more casual clothing and slipping his shoes on. even as he steps out the door, he doesn’t notice the fact that your backpack is not where you left it the other day.

he reaches the breakfast hall after a short walk, expecting to find you sitting with the others, but he’s only met with the sight of suguru sitting by himself at the table.

okay, that’s… no big deal. maybe you already ate and you’re just down the street with shoko. besides, suguru must have slept in too. it makes sense when satoru thinks about it like that.

satoru grabs a plate of food and takes a seat across from the other man. he smiles politely as he lifts his fork, resisting the urge to ask about your whereabouts before he’s even said ‘good morning’ to his best friend.

“morning,” suguru smiles back, stretching his neck to the side to crack it. they make a bit of small talk, but suguru can tell from the anxious tapping of satoru’s foot that his mind is nowhere near present in their conversation.

“where’d the other two head off?” satoru casually drops the question during a break in the conversation, and suguru hums softly. there’s a knowing look in his eyes as he watches satoru eat another forkful of his breakfast, the way the white-haired man pretends the question hasn’t been on his mind since the moment he woke up.

“ah, they left early this morning,” suguru shrugs, though his nonchalance was poorly misguided. he’s thankful he caught on to the way satoru instantly stiffened, because it helped him choose his next words a little more carefully. “they mentioned something about getting the car you both left hidden not too far from here. shoko suggested leaving early to catch a ride with one of the armed guards that patrols the woods, so at least there’s that.”

suguru mistakenly thinks he did enough to diffuse satoru’s incoming reaction, but he’s proven wrong when the fork slips out of satoru’s hand and drops onto the plate with a loud clatter.

“thanks for dropping us off!”

you waved to the armed guard after shutting the car door behind you, heeding the man’s advice to keep your weapons in tow as you watched him drive off. you turned to shoko then, who was looking around the residential area with an impressed grin.

“there’s a ton of abandoned houses here, it’ll definitely come in handy if the community starts growing more.” she commented, already drafting up all the different ways the community could expand. “within reason, of course.”

you chuckled, nodding your head in the direction you started walking, an indication for her to follow you. “were there that many people when you and suguru arrived?” you asked, making casual conversation as you both began to walk down the empty street. she hummed in response, smiling as she thought back on the last 2-3 months that she’d been there with him.

“honestly, yes and no…” shoko laughed, stuffing her hands in her pocket and kicking a pebble on the ground. “believe it or not, a lot of people actually come and go. they’re pretty strict about the rules to maintain everyone’s safety, but it rarely ever needs to be enforced… everyone’s good about following them,” she explained, swiveling around the toothpick she was holding between her lips.

“that being said, though, some people tend to just up and leave without a word after a few weeks. the first few times it happens you’re kinda like— ‘woah, why is no one out looking for them?’. but after a while you get used to it. some people just… find it hard to get used to living a calmer life again after everything that’s happened,” she says, her expression thoughtful as she speaks. “in other words, i’m pretty sure they’ve become adrenaline junkies.” she adds with a snort. “no one ever stops them from leaving, it’s why there’s always a bed available for the next traveler that stops by — though even that doesn’t happen too often, either… we’re nestled pretty deep in the woods.”

you nodded along with her words, your gaze kept forward as you both continued walking. “that explains why they were so willing to let satoru and i stay there.”

this made shoko scoff playfully, and she nudged your side with her elbow as she did. “trust me, even if they weren’t so willing, they’d have to pull suguru and i away kicking and screaming if they denied you two.”

the two of you laughed together at the mental image that produced. as your laughter died down you spared a glance in her direction, eyeing the pick she was gnawing on. “you quit smoking?” you asked her, gesturing her hand towards the object in her mouth.

she nodded with a proud smile, grabbing the pick with two of her fingers and making a blowing motion, as if she were exhaling smoke. “cigarettes are getting a little harder to come by these days, no one over at the community smokes,” she explained, licking her lips before putting the pick back between her teeth. “this old lady who works the kitchen — she’s a real sweetheart, lemme tell you… she always noticed how antsy i used to get when i was trying to quit, how i would always reach for my mouth expecting to find something there to grab between my fingers. she walked over to me one day and just handed me a whole bunch of toothpicks, so the habit of me reaching for something is a lot easier to manage. kinda like how people used to chew gum to quit, back in the day.”

“huh,” you hummed softly, grinning at her as she spoke. “that was really kind of her to do.”

“yeah,” shoko grinned, looking down at the ground again. “turns out she used to be a heavy smoker too, so she recognized the ticks i’d get. she was really helpful.”

you smiled wider, nudging shoko gently with your elbow. “well, i’m proud of you for overcoming that. it can’t have been easy.”

she grinned bashfully, waving you off for a moment before linking her arm with yours. you both continued down the road, finally reaching the house you and satoru had stayed in about a week ago. you walked around the house, towards a small clearing in the back where you both had tucked the pickup truck away from plain sight.

“here she is,” you grinned, slapping a hand on the hood of the vehicle. “satoru and i found this pickup a little over a month ago — y’know, siphoning gas from abandoned cars outside city areas is actually a lot easier than i thought it’d be.” you snorted, setting your backpack down to fish out the keys you had.

shoko grinned as you spoke, about to respond with a lighthearted comment herself when a rustling in the trees caught her attention. her ears perked up, gaze narrowing as she tried to make out what the source of the noise was.

a low growl was then heard, and you both froze where you stood. just around the car, several feet away, there were two zombies, dragging themselves around the area. shoko reacted quickly, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of sight, the two of you kneeling in front of the car and hiding from the creatures that were yet to spot you.

“shit,” shoko muttered under her breath, her own adrenaline spiking as she tried to look over the side of the pickup. you were now moving a little frantically, trying to find the small set of keys in your bag, occasionally glancing up at shoko who was still keeping watch. “please tell me you’ve found them.”

“almost…” you trailed off, resisting the urge to exclaim out loud when your fingers brushed against the metal ridges of the car keys. you let out a sigh in relief, pulling them out and zipping up your bag, which you then slung over your shoulder. “got ‘em.”

shoko nodded, gulping as she glanced back over at the creatures that were now standing closer to the pickup. “we have to lead them away from the car. i’ll distract them while you get it started,” she suggested, but you were quick to shake your head in disagreement.

“like hell i’m letting you do that on your own,” you muttered, and shoko fought back the smirk that pulled at the corner of her lips.

“then we’ll take one each, whoever kills their zombie first starts the pickup.”

“you’re on,” you grinned, shaking shoko’s hand. “i’ll leave the key in the door, you go ahead first.”

you carefully got up on your feet, bending down low enough to remain hidden as you began to walk around the front of the car. as you were putting the key in the door, shoko stepped out in front of the two zombies, unsheathing the machete she was carrying on her belt as she did. both zombies began to run after her, but you were quick to jump out with your bat and grab the attention of one of them, pulling it in the opposite direction.

you managed to get a good distance away from the car, but the zombies were moving a lot faster than you were used to. you quickly spun around, swinging at the creature before it could lunge at you, instantly landing a hit and knocking it down. though it recovered quickly, too — just before you could swing at its head it attempted to grab at your legs, making you stumble backwards as you narrowly avoided getting scratched.

“you little shit,” you muttered, feeling your adrenaline peak with frustration. you swung again and it was knocked back into the ground, and this time you made sure to kick it down for good measure. your foot landed on its head and you swung your bat at the arms that reached out for you, managing to break apart the already dead limbs with the help of the barbed wire around the barrel of your weapon.

you then removed your foot and took a single step back, lifting the bat high above your head before bringing it down as hard as you could. with your own physical strength and the sheer momentum of the swing, you were able to crush the zombie’s skull in just one hit, killing it instantly.

the sound of the engine of the pickup truck coming to life pulled your attention back to the original task at hand, and you looked over your shoulder to see shoko had successfully killed the other zombie, beating you to the car first. she waved you over, and you spared one more glance at the zombie at your feet to make sure it was really dead before you turned around and ran towards the pickup, a relieved smile making its way onto your face.

“that wasn’t so bad,” shoko grinned at you as you stepped into the car, huffing in relief. as soon as the door closed behind you shoko put the car in drive, pulling out of the area and onto the street as she drove you both back to the guarded community. “you did pretty good back there.”

you chuckled breathlessly, waving off her compliment. you adjusted your position where you sat, moving one leg underneath the other to get more comfortable, but then a sharp pain sensation shot through your ankle, making you wince in pain.

“shit, you okay?” shoko asked you instantly, gaze flitting rapidly between you and the road ahead of her. “you didn’t get scratched, did you…?”

you shook your head no, though you lifted up your own pants up to your shin to double check. fortunately, there wasn’t a scratch, but your ankle looked a little swollen. “ah, fuck… must’ve been when that motherfucker tried to grab at my legs,” you mumbled, pressing your fingers against the joint and hissing softly. “i did stumble a little bit, i might’ve bent my ankle at an awkward angle without realizing.”

shoko nodded, a small frown appearing on her face. she could only catch short glimpses of you while she drove, which made her huff softly in frustration. “i’ll wrap it up for you as soon as we get back,” she promised.

the injury itself wasn’t too bad; you were still able to walk on your own with only a mild limp, but shoko was still insistent on wrapping it up to help with the swelling. you left the pickup with the other vehicles near the entrance of the community, and then you both walked back down the familiar, safeguarded streets. shoko excused herself to search for suguru, wanting to update him on the events of the morning, and you decided to head back to the house to drop off your things before meeting up with them. after you both parted ways, you reached the house in no time, but as you opened the front door you were surprised to find satoru immediately cornering you at the entrance.

“satoru, hey—” you began, about to greet him before he cut you off, grabbing your wrist and immediately dragging you towards the couch. he pushed the door closed with his other hand, a little harshly at that, making you jump slightly in surprise. “um, is everything okay?”

satoru didn’t say anything as he dragged you over to the couch, immediately pulling you down onto the seat and sitting beside you. he then lifted your arm, turning it around in his grasp, inspecting it closely before dropping it and moving on to the next limb.

“what are you—” you tried to say, but as you looked up at his face you immediately cut yourself off. his brows were furrowed, face set in a deep frown as he examined you for any potential scratches or injuries. you’d have teased him for the way he showed his concern for your safety if you didn’t catch the dull look in his eyes next, how the otherwise bright blues were now a pale gray color. his jaw was clenched tight, cheeks puffy and the skin around his eyes red, almost a little irritated. he looked like— wait, was he crying?

“satoru…” you tried again, voice much softer now as you recognized the look on his face for what it was. he was still quiet, now lifting one of your legs up onto his lap, still inspecting. “satoru, i’m okay. we just went to get the pickup truck, we’re both fine.”

he grumbled something underneath his breath, ignoring you again as he lifted your other leg. this happened to be the leg with your injury — and as he grabbed your ankle and hoisted it up onto his lap, he was quick to notice the wince you tried to hold back. he blinked up at you, feeling his heart stop in his chest.

very hesitantly, he looked back down at your ankle. he lifted up the fabric of your pants just a little bit, enough to expose the compression wrap shoko had fastened around it earlier. he knew it wasn’t a bandage wrap, which told him that you likely just twisted your ankle. but it didn’t make him feel any better — didn’t really do anything to stop the way his hand trembled as he gripped the fabric of your clothing.

“what happened?” he rasped, finally breaking his tense silence as he looked up at you. carefully, you pulled your leg off his lap, watching how his hands fell limply to his sides.

“i stumbled a bit and kinda twisted my ankle, it’s a little swollen but it doesn’t hurt too much.” you explained carefully, but satoru was hanging on to every word like a vice.

“you just tripped?”

“well, not really—”

“so, what, you fell?”

“no—”

“were you guys running from something?”

“satoru,” you snapped, your tone a little louder than you’d have liked it to be. “relax, there were some zombies that showed up. we killed them with no problem, i just lost my footing at one point. it’s not a big deal.”

you were getting irritated with the bombardment of questions, that much he could tell. but it felt like something inside of him was trying to claw out of his skin, and he just kept pushing, and pushing…

“…not a big deal?” he scoffed, scowling at your nonchalance. “since when is you almost dying not a big fucking deal?”

it was your turn to scoff now, rolling your eyes in annoyance as you stood up from the couch. “god, you’re so damn dramatic. you’re acting like i was being careless about it.”

“excuse me for thinking you were when you come back hurt!” he exclaimed, voice raising in pitch as he stood up and followed after you. “why the hell didn’t you tell me you were headed out there today?”

“you were still sleeping!” you argued back, raising your hands in surrender. “was i supposed to wake you up for something that didn’t even take up the whole morning?”

“um, yes?” he spoke sharply, staring at you in disbelief as he stopped behind you. “forget letting me sleep in, we’re supposed to do these things together!”

“shoko was with me the whole time,” you defended yourself, voice still raised as you crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him. “i know you always feel insanely protective of me but that doesn’t mean you have to swoop in like some knight in shining armor all the damn time, i can take care of myself!”

“don’t be ridiculous,” he barked back, his tone sharp and words cutting. “you sure did a hell of a job at that, coming back with a fucking twisted ankle.”

satoru heard it as soon as the words left his mouth, but his heart was so far up his throat that he couldn’t stop himself from saying it on time. he clenched his fists at his side in frustration, feeling something ugly twist low in his gut when you flinched at his harsh words.

“oh, go fuck yourself, satoru.”

he feels his breath catch in his throat, helpless to the way you spun on your heel and slammed the bedroom door closed behind you. he should give you your space, he knows he should. but he also knows he’s physically incapable of letting you go, of loosening whatever grip you currently have on his heart. how the muscle rattles against his ribcage to the beat of your name, driving his every action before his brain can think logically through them.

thus, he opens the bedroom door and his feet drag him in your direction.

“where are you going now?”

“what does it matter to you?” you retorted, throwing your hands up in defeat as you walked further into the room. “is the bedroom now too dangerous for me to be in by myself?”

“ugh, that’s not—” he groans in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stops in the middle of the room. “it matters to me, okay!”

“but why?” you questioned, now facing him once again and walking towards him to further drive your point home. “why does it matter to you so much, huh?!”

“because…” he starts, huffing out another frustrated sound when you stop in front of him to poke your finger into his chest. he wonders if you can feel how hard his heart is beating right now. “because—”

“because?” you repeated, growing more impatient by the second as satoru stumbled over his words. “you seemed pretty damn sure of yourself barely a minute ago, don’t start backtracking now.”

satoru stutters again, the frown deepening on his face the longer you look at him, waiting for an answer he can’t bring himself to give you yet. “because, it— it just does, okay?!”

you scoffed at him, rolling your eyes and removing your hand, and that ache in his chest from before is steadily returning as he watches you turn your back to him once more. he takes a risk, reaching out to grab your wrist, but it only makes you shove at his chest.

“i said fuck off,” you groaned as you pushed him back, only to then grip on the fabric of his shirt as you held him in place, keeping him from actually leaving. he blinked at you in confusion, his breathing labored with the way his heart was about to give out on the spot.

he reaches for your wrist again, this time grabbing it securely, fingertips ghosting underneath the hand of yours that’s currently gripping his shirt. you look over at him when he does this, opening your mouth to say something else, but no words come out.

satoru realizes, then, that there’s simply never any time for anything. you both live in a world full of uncertainties, full of so much danger and full of all the longing glances you spare his way when you think he isn’t paying attention. and he can’t waste the unknown amount of time he has left with you any longer. he decides, then, that you deserve to know what it is exactly that he’s been trying to wrap his head around since you both stepped foot inside this community about a week ago.

but the way you’re looking at him right now, he finds it hard to get the words out; hard to convey what exactly it is that you do to him.

he takes a deep breath, eyelids fluttering in surprise when he finally notices the other hand you raised up to his face. you were not quite cupping his cheek but rather tracing your fingers lightly along his jawline, considering grabbing a hold of him. his fingers tighten around your wrist, your eyes meet his, and it all stops then.

time stops; it grants the two of you the chance to catch up to it.

satoru’s face rushes forward before another second could pass, aided by the way you pulled him into you with your tight grip on his shirt.

he kisses you, and he thinks the world must have stopped spinning on its axis, too. how you kiss him back like you’re tired of beating around the bush, like you’ve been craving this as badly as he has.

he could be more modest about it, but there’s no such thing as modesty when you make him feel like someone set off fireworks in his chest. they’re shooting up, up, and out of his mouth — all into yours along with your mingled breaths.

you both pull away for a moment, a rather short one. you blink like you can’t believe your eyes and his hands tremble as he grabs your face to pull you back in. this kiss is more hurried now — rushed and a little desperate. you even feel him whine something incoherent against your lips, the sound instantly swallowed by you before it could properly register in your ears. he kisses you hard and the sheer force of it has you stumbling backwards, bumping into the nightstand beside your bed, knocking down an object that was placed on it.

“oh, shit—” you broke the kiss again, turning your head to look down at the object that fell, but satoru grabs your chin to make you face him again. his lips are back on yours before you can even respond.

“s’toru,” you squeaked against his lips, almost wanting to laugh at how rushed he’s being, but he simply whines again. his hands are all over you now, he can’t figure out where to leave them to rest. his heart is actually beating out of his chest and your lips are so soft and he thinks this is what heaven must feel like. “satoru.”

your tone is firmer now, his name only slightly muffled against his lips. you bring a hand up to his chest and gently push him back, and this time he actually listens. pulling away from the kiss and gasping loudly, like a diver finally coming up for air. his lips are swollen and you’re sure that yours are, too. his cheeks are a dusty shade of pink and his pupils are blown, hair slightly tousled from his movements. you think he looks so beautiful like this.

“sorry,” he huffs after a moment, still panting softly. his hands have now settled on your waist, squeezing the flesh gently as he steps forward, ever closer to you. “‘m sorry, i—… fuck, you’re just…” he trails off, closing his eyes to lean his forehead against yours with a low hum.

“you drive me so insane, you know?”

this pulls a giggle out of you, a soft sound that he finds himself wanting to hear again and again. a small grin makes his way onto his face and he peeks his eyes open, instantly meeting yours. your hands are behind you, leaning on the nightstand he cornered you into, but you lift one of them up to brush some of the hair out of his face. his eyes flutter closed when you do this before he opens them again.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles softly after a few moments, thumbs rubbing small circles into your sides. “about what i said earlier, i should’ve— i do trust you, but i just… i was really worried about you. i worry about you all the damn time, i don’t know what i’d do with myself if something ever happened to you.”

the sincerity in his words makes you frown slightly, feeling touched by what he’s said. “i know, ‘toru…” you sigh, your hand reaching up again to rub his arm soothingly. “and i really appreciate that, i do… but please just try to have a little more faith in the decisions i make without you, okay?”

he nods slowly, his eyes closing again as he inhales a shaky breath. “jus’ please let me know in advance next time. when suguru told me earlier where you guys where, i think i might’ve actually lost it,” he chuckles softly, the sound heavy on his tongue with the weight he feels in his heart. “i kept— fuck, i kept thinking about all the worst case scenarios. i kept thinking— what if you didn’t come back? what if last night was the last time i’d ever see you? so much…” he pauses, his grip on your waist tightening significantly. “there’s so much i want to say to you. stuff i thought i’d never get the chance to say because i was so scared you wouldn’t come home earlier…”

home, he says. it’s funny — he never uses that word to describe the place you both find yourselves in. they’re simply never permanent enough to bother getting used to; giving it a name would only make you grow attached to what’s essentially more of a pit stop.

satoru doesn’t use the term in a traditional aspect. he just happens to think home is anywhere that he can be with you.

you stayed quiet as he spoke, letting him vent his feelings out before saying anything in response to them. your hand slides up his arm to cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb under his eyelids; he’s not crying but there’s a waver in his voice. and he knows it shouldn’t — there’s nothing wrong with feeling as much as he feels, after all — but the sheer vulnerability makes him feel so weak, so weak and so small. he trails off again when your thumb caresses his cheekbone, eyes fluttering closed for the nth time underneath your touch as he leans into it further.

a heavy sigh leaves his lips, his forehead comes down to lean against yours again. you gently kiss the tip of his nose, and he almost melts into the floor in that very instant.

“it’s… hard,” you began, choosing your words carefully to convey what it is you’re both struggling with. “the world we live in, nothing is— i mean, there’s only so much we can do to look out for each other…” you bite your lower lip, unsure where your thoughts are taking you; what the train’s next destination looks like.

satoru opens his eyes again to meet your own. he sees the uncertainty swimming in them and decides to take a dive — head first into the water.

“i hope you know that there’s absolutely nothing i wouldn’t do for you.”

you blinked, only momentarily caught off-guard before your face fell into a soft grin. “satoru…” you trailed off, shaking your head with another giggle.

“i’m serious,” he huffs a small laugh, his expression finally relaxing into a grin that mirrored your own. a smile as sweet as honey; he could never get enough of you. “i’m so serious, like— i would do absolutely anything.”

“yeah?” you laughed softly, now moving to take a seat on the edge of the mattress. you slid out of satoru’s grasp but his hands were quick to find you again, taking a seat next to you and immediately grabbing your own hands. he held them together on his lap, giving them a gentle squeeze for good measure before you continued speaking. “but what if it was something, like, really stupid?”

he laughs at this, leaning forward to nose at your cheek affectionately. “doesn’t matter, i’m doin’ it anyway.”

you giggled again, feeling a warmth spread throughout your face at his affection. (there was another question you had for him, something a little darker… but that was a thought you didn’t want to entertain. at least, not right now… one of these days, you think to yourself. i’ll ask him when the time comes.)

“so…” satoru hums softly after your laughter dies down, letting go of one hand to snake his arm around to the back of your neck. his fingertips lightly dance along the edge of your hairline at the back of your scalp, the featherlight touch sending shivers down your spine.

you take a moment to think about what to say, gaze holding his as he gently rubs your neck. “we don’t know how much time we’ll have together, with… everything going on,” you began, pausing to inhale deeply before you continued. “but, i don’t wanna waste anymore of it.”

you squeeze his hand back to accentuate your words, a resolute confirmation of your mutual feelings. “if this is what you want, then… i feel the same. and— and i want this, too…”

you don’t think you’ve ever seen his eyes shine so brightly, the way they’re practically glowing with adoration right now. you both share a look and he makes a small sound; a sort of hum, nodding his head in understanding as he does. he brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to the back of your knuckles. he closes his eyes as he does, and when he opens them again he’s quick to pull you into his arms. by the hand on the back of your neck he brings you into his chest, holding you in a tight embrace, laughing softly into your hair.

“i do,” he huffs gently, slowly rocking your bodies side to side when he feels you hug him back. “i do want this, more than anything i’ve ever wanted in my life.”

he pulls back from the hug after a few moments, rubbing his thumb over your cheek and gazing at you with a sickeningly lovestruck look in his eyes. his eyes scan your face, every minute expression, carefully weaving them into the very fabric of his heart.

then his eyes land on your lips again, and you already know what he’s thinking when he slides both of his hands up to cup the sides of your neck, thumbs resting just below your ears.

he pulls you in for another kiss, and this one’s much softer, slower. his lips mold together with yours so perfectly, like you were both crafted by the gods with each other in mind. a love that’s fated, sealed together in the way he pulls you close to him. the way he lets out a content hum as you kiss him back, the corners of his lips curling upwards into a smile he can’t bring himself to hold back.

as the kiss starts to deepen your arms slowly slide up his chest, slinging around his neck to pull him impossibly closer to you. he has half a mind to pull you up onto his lap but he doesn’t want to startle you again, so instead pushes forward, slowly hovering over your body as you start to lean back against the mattress. his hands move back down to glide along your sides, gently moving you down onto your back, and before you even realize it you’re both laying side by side.

satoru’s now half leaning over you and half laying beside you, his legs slowly tangling with yours. your hands card through his hair, his tongue swipes over your bottom lip and when you reciprocate the action he moans softly, the sound reverberating in your mouth—

and then he’s pulling away, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to try and calm himself down. soft, labored breaths tickling your skin as he inhales your scent.

you both continue to lay like this for an indiscernible amount of time; the only sounds in the room are that of each other’s breathing slowly evening out. after a while he lifts his head up and the flush on his face makes you want to kiss him breathless again and again, but before you can pull him in for more, a soft knock on the front door is breaking through the haze he’s cornered you both into.

“hey, you guys there?” suguru’s voice is muffled from the other side of the door, and satoru has to suppress the groan that threatened to leave his mouth at the interruption, which makes you giggle softly. “shoko and i are headed to the park, if you both wanted to join us.”

you hum in contemplation, glancing back at satoru who’s sporting a small pout on his face. he slowly shakes his head as if to tell you to say no, but you just give him your best smile before calling back out to suguru.

“yeah, we’ll meet you guys there!”

satoru actually groans now, his face falling back down to hide in the crook of your neck as a form of protest, making you laugh at his petulance. his arms wrap around your waist as he hugs you tightly, mumbling incoherent complains into your skin.

“i can’t hear you, you big baby,” you giggled, stroking his hair for a moment before you gently pushed at his shoulder. “c’mon, we can grab something to eat from the dining hall on the way there. i’m sure you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

he grunts again, lifting himself up so that he was holding his weight above you, supported by his hands planted on the mattress at either side of your body. “fine, but you owe me.”

you snorted at that, sitting yourself up so you were now eye to eye with him. “owe you what? i didn’t do anything wrong.”

he scoffed at that, shaking his head with a feigned serious expression on his face. “at least one more kiss before we have to go.” he grumbled, though the look in his eyes was entirely playful and doting.

you rolled your eyes at him with a fond smile, lifting your hands up and squishing his cheeks before pressing a short, chaste kiss against his lips. “there, are you happy?”

he shakes his head with another small pout, the sight comical with the way you were squishing his face between your hands. “nuh-uh, one more.”

“satoru,” you warned, but you were already leaning in for another kiss anyway. this one was just a little bit longer than a peck, and as you pulled away you felt him chase your lips with his own before he pulled back with a soft sigh. “you can get more kisses later.”

at that proposal he grinned cheekily, finally lifting himself up off the bed and extending a hand to help you up as well. “i’m definitely holding you to that, just so you’re aware.”

“i wouldn’t put it past you,” you giggled again, graciously accepting his extended hand and getting up on your feet. he smiled down at you as you did, squeezing your hand again for good measure before he led the two of you out the door. the dog excitedly followed you both out the door, providing a picturesque scene of pure content across the atmosphere that surrounded you.

with the promise of finally holding and having each other comes another certain fact — you weren’t going to waste another minute of your time without his heart in your hands. a delicate exchange between the two of you that would last for as long as you have the fortune of living in such a desolate world.

tagging 4 funsies: @cinnamoneve @forest-hashira @ctrltoru @bhaalism @ohimsummer @lovelyless-fiction @yunymphs @marimogf @kissxcore :3 love u guys mwah

[sin-oh]

until then - levi x reader

Summary:

In this cruel world, it is hard to believe that there’s any meaning to be found. But she means something and so does he. In this cruel world, saying those three words has more meaning than anything, which must be why it is so terrifying to say.

Inspired by No Big Deal (I Love You) by dodie.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

POV: Third Person, f!reader

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46121158

In the morning, we don't say it,

Share the water, that's how we play it

The sun is only just beginning to rise but Levi is awake, body leaning against the counter as he waits for the kettle to boil. She is awake too, suppressing a yawn as she enters the kitchen, silently acknowledging him with a bob of her head. He nods back and turns to pick another tea cup from the cupboard, polishing it with a cloth and putting it down next to his own, adding green pines to it.

They move around each other without speaking. She pours the water into their cups and he places saucers onto the table next to the window overseeing the ground of the Headquarters. She tops up her tea with cold water but leaves his alone.

Both captains sit as the room fills with golden light. Levi’s eyes close, his head turned towards the rising sun. She squints against the glow, delicately sipping at her tea. The toes of their boots touch under the table.

In the shower, yeah we save it

Share the water, that's how we play it

She winces as Levi lowers her into the steaming bathtub, the warmth numbing the pains shooting up and down her spine. He’s slow and careful, hands gentle under her arms, so unlike his earlier rushing around when he had been boiling vats of water and scattering dried rosemary and lavender into the bath. He doesn’t believe that the shrubs make a difference, but she believes they do. The aftermath of the expedition has left her too tired to bring this up, but he remembers. 

Levi’s eyebrows pinch together as he watches her hands grip onto the rim of the tub, her breathing shallow and her knuckles white. He sits down on a crate, elevated so he can reach her when she needs him. When she does, he supports her shoulders as he rubs soap through her wet hair. He moves his hand down her back, touch light as he inspects her bruises, muttering apologies when she sucks in air through her teeth. He had been quick enough to prevent the Titan from crushing her but had not spared her entirely from all damage.

She sees the lines on his forehead smooth out when his hands touch the hot water. “Get in.”

He shakes his head, lowering her back down to wash out the soap. “I’m not the injured one here.”

 “You have military baths everyday and never afford yourself this kind of treatment. Just get in before it gets cold.”

So he does after some gentle persuasion, climbing in and sitting behind her, holding onto the sides of the tub so she can lean against his chest. He sighs as the heat engulfs him, easing his sore muscles in a way cold water never does.

Her head rests against his left shoulder and she asks him if it’s nice. He shrugs with his other shoulder and says it’s alright. They stay there until the water cools.

I don't mind, say I care, you're the best

Yeah, you hold me like its already said

New headstones line at the front of the expanse of graves where fallen soldiers – or parts of them – rest. The Survey Corps hold their salutes but they don’t stay long, moving away as dark clouds begin to darken the sky.

She stays, looking down at the white slabs and the names carved into the stone. Not all graves are occupied, which pains her, but every grave has a name, which is the next best thing. He stays too, coming to stand next to her. To them, just the names aren’t enough.

She clasps her hands together. “We did what we could.”

He makes a bitter sound. “It’s never enough.”

 “You’re here. That means there’s more we can do.”

 “Don’t say that as if you aren’t here too.”

She doesn’t reply. A tear rolls down her cheek. Levi’s hand comes to rest on her back. The rain begins to fall but they don’t move.

I don't mind, I will do this dance

For the rest of my life, for as long as you want

The candle in Levi’s room is burning low and his eyelids are heavy but he keeps writing at his desk. She’s sat on his bed reading, her arms drooping with the weight of the book every so often. Once in a while she peers over her pages to look at the man hunched over papers. His shoulders are tense, his writing painstakingly slow, his free hand propping up his chin. He doesn’t stop when she asks him to. She doesn’t argue but doesn’t stop peeking at him.

When the candle snuffs out, Levi turns around to see her asleep, book open on her face like it is most nights. And like most nights, he gets up and pries it from her fingers, setting it down on the bedside table. He carefully throws a blanket over her and tucks it under her chin, fingers brushing against her neck as he does so. He lies down next to her.

This, too, happens most nights. She has her own room and bed that Levi could force her to move to, but he never does. If he did, then maybe she wouldn’t come back every evening when the day was done.

He doesn’t sleep, instead using his time to memorise the details of her face, so that when the day comes where she loses like the others, he can remember her.

She dreams of him, dreams that devolve into nightmares. When she wakes, she turns to find him and he’s still there, still alive, even if it’s just for now.

Not that I wouldn't say it first 'cause I would

It's no big deal

They had met when Levi was recruited by Erwin for the Survey Corps. He had been cold and indifferent but she had made an effort to be civil anyway. The two other soldiers who had followed him had been more approachable – the girl had been quick to befriend her, which tempered his manner towards her somewhat.

She had seen the aftermath of his encounter with the Titan that killed his friends. She had wrapped up the girl’s head in her own cape to bring back with them. He had carried the upper body of the boy on his back, refusing any assistance. He had insisted they be burned instead of buried like the other soldiers, which was only allowed because of hers and Erwin’s insistence that these soldiers be an exception.

The ashes are in an urn that sits on an empty bookshelf. Levi cleans it twice a week.

On the anniversary of their passing, he tells her about their time in the underground and the many memories he has of them. She listens and holds his hand, even though she has heard them before. He smiles when he speaks of them, albeit a small one. To her, it’s worth all the smiles in the world.

Levi is voluntarily vulnerable one evening a year.

Look at me like that, hold your breath 'cause we're good

It's no big deal

News reaches everyone that Wall Maria has fallen. They are sent out to help with the evacuation into Wall Rose and protect the civilians. She finds her family’s house has been destroyed by the debris. She doesn’t find any remnant of them in the rubble. She doesn’t find them as they do a head count during the evacuation.

She doesn’t cry or shout or get upset. She works and fights and kills like she’s done before, but she is reckless and sloppy and uncaring. She doesn’t speak unless she’s giving orders. The others try to talk to her but after several days they stop trying.

Levi doesn’t try to speak to her at all but he doesn’t leave her alone. He makes her breakfast and gives her a kick when she doesn’t touch it straightaway. He speaks on her behalf if needed and takes on her paperwork. He stays with her until she falls asleep. He never says a word.

Two weeks pass and they’re in the kitchen at night. She stares out of the window into the darkness, the heat from her teacup numb to her as Levi sets it down. He touches her toe with his own but she doesn’t respond.

It’s the smell of the spiced apple tea that brings her back to the present, memories of the pies her mother used to make for the family when she was young. And then she’s crying. Her eyes, which had been dry since the days the wall fell, are spilling over with tears and she heaves as inhuman sounds force themselves from her throat.

Arms come around her and she falls against Levi, her sobs becoming muffled against his stomach. He says nothing, keeping steady and running his fingers through her unwashed hair without flinching away from the texture or the feeling of her nails digging into his sides.

When she finally pulls away to steady her breathing, Levi’s white sleep shirt is sodden. The first word she has said in weeks sounds broken and raspy.

 “I’m sorry.”

Levi shows no concern for his clothing – only for her. He touches her cheek, wiping some of the wetness away. She cries for the rest of the night and he’s right there with her.

On a Sunday we're together

God I love you, says not one of us ever

She holds a bag of ice to Levi’s ankle, lips tightening when he hisses at the pain. After days of not properly resting, she had insisted that he stop going around as if everything was fine, so, much to his annoyance, he’s sitting in his bed with his injury propped up and he’s going to stay there like that all day.

She pays no attention to his complaints, mindful of his swollen ankle as she tends to it. With all the insanity occurring around them, she’s grateful that he can have a chance to rest and silently glad that she can too. The meetings surrounding what took place in Stohess are still occurring and she’s happy she doesn’t have to be involved today.

Levi swears under his breath and she looks up with concern. His jaw is tense and eyes are shut but he waves at her dismissively. She sets the pack so it covers the inflamed area and moves the chair closer to his side, poking his side and avoiding his hand swatting her away.

 “Shall I read to you?”

He opens one eye and glares at her. “I’ve not been made completely useless, you know.”

She ignores him and picks up her novel. It’s romance, something Levi hates, but he listens anyway – the bizarre things happening as of late are giving him daily headaches and comprehending not only the brat’s ability to transform, but his fellow cadet too, only makes it worse. Her voice doesn’t.

She changes his ice pack after a couple of hours. She brings him dinner and later some tea. She carefully bandages his ankle and foot, giving him some stern words about getting up in the night.

As she gets up to leave, Levi calls her name softly. “Thank you.”

She smiles and it’s beautiful.

In the half light, where you tease me

God I love you would be far too easy

Levi reaches up to the top shelf but his fingers barely skim the boxes. He grumbles to himself as he pushes up on the counter, balancing his knees on the wood before stretching up and successfully grabbing onto the packaging.

His silent satisfaction is interrupted by an ugly snort from behind him. He turns, face hot as he sees her stood in the doorway, hand covering her mouth. Her eyes are crinkled and shining.

Levi climbs down quickly and leaves the box on the side before approaching her. “Something funny, captain?”

She shakes her head. “Just enjoying the view. Would you like help with the rest?”

 “Absolutely not.” He draws himself up on his tiptoes, bringing them to the same height and nose to nose. He grimaces without malice when she giggles again. “Laugh one more time and I’ll teach you a lesson, brat.”

Levi’s features twitch when she touches the top of his head, patting it like she would to a child before carding her fingers through his bangs. “Just because I can’t pull rank on the likes of you doesn’t mean I won’t try.”

He tuts and takes her hand away. He doesn’t let go of it.

Not that I wouldn't say it first 'cause I would

It's no big deal

The cabin is still dirty, despite the new Squad Levi’s hard work. Night has fallen but Levi is still scrubbing away at the floor, his back aching and breathing shallow from the smell of chemicals. Any movements he hears are unimportant to him, knowing it will be one of the kids shuffling around in their rooms. He works, even though he knows that sleep in these times matter more than this grubby hut being his standard of clean. Still, he keeps going.

Her letter is in his pocket and his mind wanders without his permission. She’s with Hange, the compromise they came to when she refused to hide in the city and when Levi put his foot down about her joining his squad to protect Eren and Historia. She had been furious at him and most likely still is, but the night they had evacuated, she had pressed folded paper into his palm and hugged him tightly.

The threat of the government seems ridiculous compared to the threat of the Titans, but she had taken it seriously. Her letter is short and half full of expletives, but also of concern and care, for the kids and for him.

He keeps it on his person, tucked away in his breast pocket. He almost cries when they regroup after Kenny’s attack and it’s gone.

Look at me like that, hold your breath 'cause we're good

It's no big deal

The Survey Corps cape is laid over Erwin’s body, covering his face and wounds. She watches him painstakingly tuck the green fabric around their fallen commander and friend, swallowing hard to try and rid herself of the lump in her throat.

Levi’s shoulders are shaking when he stands, his head bent. She approaches him carefully and puts her arm around him, ready to catch him when he falls. And he does, his nails paring skin off his cheeks, his back hunching as he begins to cry. She braces as he collapses, her own tears following his so easily she almost forgets that this is the first time she’s seen him cry like this since he lost his friends all those years ago.

She mumbles words and phrases that are unintelligible against the back of his neck and he makes sounds akin to a wounded animal.

Hange finds them and they envelop the two in a shaky embrace. When they pull away and ask if they’re ready to go, she waits for Levi to raise his head and make the call. He holds onto her for a little longer, looking to Erwin’s body for a lost reassurance before agreeing to return.

They salute the commander and Levi lets out a gasp. She clutches his hand, anchoring him.

It's no big deal

Sparkling blue stretches out as far as the eye can see. The clear water as bright and colourful as the sky is a sight it takes minutes to comprehend. The kids play in the sea and Hange shrieks about its saltiness, continuing to taste it despite Levi’s stern words against it.

She gazes out at the view. The world as they know it is so much more vast than what they are currently seeing, and they are people walking about it, knowing of this island’s existence and praying for the day they are all destroyed. All these wonders she had heard about in hushed tones from her parents, the wonders that Armin had marvelled at – they are wonders that they are not allowed to touch.

Levi comes up to her side. She glances down to see he’s taken off his boots and socks and she smiles.

 “So, you’ve been tempted.”

 “It was either voluntary or an attempted attack by the idiot three over there.” He nods his head towards Sasha, Jean, and Connie.

She hums, looking back out at the ocean. “He would hate this, wouldn’t he?” she asks softly.

Levi’s eyes close. “He’d be so disappointed.”

They do not touch. It’s painful not to.

I'll say it here, I'll tell you soon

Until then I love you

The airship door opens and they get a look at the city below them. This is the rest of the world and the start of the war.

She looks to Levi as he tightens his gear and she adjusts the neck his cape, the only Survey Corp member still clinging to the old uniform. Fingers brush against his jugular and she feels him swallow.

She tells him to be safe. He rolls his eyes. She grips the fabric. “Promise that you’ll come back in one piece.”

There’s a fierceness and fear laced in her words.

The words fail him. He touches her wrist.

I'll say it here, I'll tell you soon

Until then I love you

Hange had warned her but she cries anyway at the sight of the bandaged broken man laid out on the wooden cart. Levi’s hair is the only identifiable thing about him, his face covered with gauze and his body shrouded by white cloth. She does not speak in fear of waking him, but selfishly wishes he will stir so she can try to relax.

Hange watches her worry over him, crouching by his side. Their eye is glassy and their hands are trembling.

 “I don’t know how he’s still alive,” they whisper. “He should be dead. Perhaps – perhaps it would be better if he –”

 “We’d all be better dead,” she says. “We’re the only ones who will be alive when this ends. If Levi keeps living, it means that this isn’t ending yet. Not this way.” She moves his bangs away from his forehead.

Hange furrows their brow. “How can you… after everything, you two… how are you not afraid?”

She exhales and shuts her eyes. “I’m always afraid. So is he. It’s what makes it work.”

 “It doesn’t. You know it will kill you. Suffering is a part of loss, but the things unsaid is what will kill you.”

 “… I know.”

She can’t look at Hange but her eyes open to look upon Levi again. He’s moving, his one visible eye twitching before it opens. The pupil dilates and focuses on her.

The words fail her. She touches his hair again. “You broke your promise.”

He can only look back at her.

I'll say it here, I'll tell you soon

Levi’s trying to get out of the bunk on the ship but she’s holding him down, saddened that for the first time, she’s winning in a battle of strength between the two of them.

 “I need to go,” he growls, scrabbling weakly against her arms. “You’d rather me waste away on this godforsaken ship?”

 “I’d rather you be alive,” she says, her voice breaking as she pins his wrists down. One hand is still wrapped in bandages, two of his fingers missing. The gauze covering his face had fallen away as their journey progressed, but he still has only one eye visible, and it’s clouded with anger and frustration.

 “Like I’d let you all die in place of me – I have a job to do – I promised him.”

She screws her eyes shut. The boat had docked but the world is still swaying. “I can’t let you do this.”

Levi stops struggling but the fight doesn’t die. He stares up at her with a vulnerable defiance. And he asks: “why can’t you?”

He challenges her. He says her name. He challenges her in a way he’s refused to do for around a decade now. If she answers him truthfully, then surrendering to her demands will be easier. And she knows it.

He repeats the question, sitting up against her slackened grip. Their noses are touching. Her hands are still loosely gripping his wrists. His breathing is shallow.

A tear falls from her left eye.

 “I can’t… please, Levi. I… we… we need you.”

She doesn’t say it. Neither does he. That’s how the song and dances goes, how it’s gone all this time.

She loses this fight.

Until then I love you

The flying boat is approaching the billowing steam. The shellshocked soldiers begin to murmur amongst themselves as they prepare their spears and their descent into hell.

He’s there next to her like he’s always been. He knows this will be the last time they will fight side by side. Hange is gone. Erwin is gone. Hundreds of soldiers and comrades are gone. Everyone in the machine is all that humanity has left. She’s all he has left.

She looks at him in a manner she has done thousands of times before. That, too, will be the last time.

His lips are dry and rough and sudden against her own. Her surprise is muffled by his mouth.

It’s over before it has begun. This last time just so happens to be the first time too. 

(I wouldn’t say it first, I wouldn’t say it)

Levi rips Pieck away from her father. He rips himself away from Jean and Connie. He can’t look at her because if he does, he know he will stay.

They fly away from the gas and Levi knows he has to look. He has to be there with her in these final moments.

Her eyes are locked on him. She stands alone in the crowd watching them rise above them. She says something and Levi knows that it’s his name.

Her name dries up on his tongue as she transforms into the beautiful abomination that had been their enemy five years ago. A Titan that he will not be able to kill.

The enemy still stands and is still fighting. Levi grits his teeth and snarls. They will not have fallen for nothing.

He fights for humanity and the love he still has within himself for this pitiful existence – he fights for her.

I’ll say it here, I’ll tell you soon

Her memories feel distant and are not all hers, but she is here, alive. They’re all alive.

Her head turns with a desperation she hasn’t felt since her family’s death, searching the scorched earth for him. She stumbles to her feet, touching her friends’ shoulders as she passes them.

Levi is collapsed onto the ground staring at the dust and steam. He’s alive.

She can’t bear it as she crumples to her knees in front of him, the weight of the world crushing her lungs as it falls away. Her cry is not the only one that fills the air as she holds the sides of his face. He mirrors her, fingers pressing into her cheeks as his mouth twists with an impossible combination of joy and misery.

Their foreheads connect with more force than intended but it doesn’t matter. He intertwines their fingers together and she doesn’t mind the odd sensation of his missing digits. They cry to the point where neither of them can speak, but they don’t have to. Perhaps it’s ignorant of them to believe that they have time, but they do.

Not that I wouldn't say it first 'cause I would

It's no big deal

As the oldest and longest serving Survey Corps members, she and Levi had earned their retirement. So, they vacate to one of the surviving towns when it’s safe to do so, taking Falco and Gabi under their care, though they don’t particularly need it. Onyakopon visits them to help them acclimate to the change and to update them on the Alliance’s plans for peace.

Healing is difficult but they have each other. They have the kids. And they have time.

Despite everything, they find themselves repeating their routines from lifetimes ago. He boils the kettle and she pours the water. Their feet touch under the table. She retrieves items from higher shelves. He tucks her in when she falls asleep before him. They sleep beside each other.

Inevitably, things are also different. He requires a wheelchair as standing for more than five minutes drains him of all his energy. Her hands are ensnared with tremors that can calm but do not cease. He is paralysed with night terrors that have him screaming when he finally wrestles free. When heat feels overbearing, she becomes suffocated and only stops hyperventilating when put under a cold shower.

They adapt and adjust and help each other like they always have. Her arms come around him in the night. His hands style her hair in the mornings. She insists on pushing him around when they leave the house and he does not object, reading as go about. He lets her sit in his lap when they stop in the park and they read together.

Their lips find each other. That too is different, but it feels as routine as their oldest habits.

Words become easier to say as time passes and wounds heal and safety envelops them. She is kind. He is beautiful. She is a pain. He is stubborn. She’s her best when she is waking. He’s his best when he is ready to sleep. They are best when they’re together.

The words do not fail.

Levi’s on the bed. She’s tying his shoes, despite his complaining that he can do it perfectly fine on his own. He rolls his eyes but then sees that she has pulled up his sock for him and straightened his trouser ankle the way he does. She does the same to the other leg, taking her time to make it even just as he does.

She straightens up, on her knees in front of him, and she smiles. “Satisfied?”

 “I love you.”

It’s easy.

Look at me like that, hold your breath 'cause we're good

It's no big deal

Her smile widens. Her eyes glisten. His eyes are wet too and he’s smiling. The scarred side of his mouth doesn’t turn all the way up so he is a little lopsided and there’s nothing more beautiful than that. She laughs and it’s the loveliest sound in the world. She shuffles closer, rising herself on her knees so they’re at eye level. He touches her cheek and he’s content. Almost.

She leans in and their lips brush against each other.

 “I love you too.”

It’s that easy.

[sin-oh]

sooo i read your "indulge me?" piece and that's why i wanted to ask for gojo simping for reader that doesn't really seem him as more as a friend and he's fine with it (lol he's not but he's need to keep the facade you know???) hope you write it at some point! btw loving you writing so far <333

11:34pm — gojo satoru

contents. highschool!gojo, fluff, he’s so in love bye, underage drinking, tokyo and kyoto students have a little get together!

“what’s wrong with him?” utahime watches her white haired underclassman down another can of beer. it was rare to see gojo drinking with the rest of the group, always opting for a soda instead.

shoko takes another swig out of her drink, unsurprised. “[name] is on a date.” 

a pathetic groan leaves gojo’s lips and the upper half of his body is splayed over the kotatsu in shoko’s room, sunglasses long forgotten somewhere. he lets out an unapologetic burp. everyone at the table spares him a glance of pity. 

utahime grimaces and mutters a quiet, “gross”. 

“don’t provoke him,” geto scolds shoko, flicking some ash from his cigarette to the ashtray below. “she’s just dealing with clan matters. arranged marriages and whatnot.” he used his free hand to land a firm pat on gojo’s back. what kind of best friend would he be if he didn’t try to comfort satoru? 

“poor thing. i can keep you company in the meantime,” mei mei’s smile is far from something with good intentions. gojo shakes his head to refuse, but with the way his forehead was pressed to the table, it looked comical. like a child throwing a tantrum. 

the only thing that managed to get gojo satoru out of his drunken slump was a soft knock on the door. he could recognize that pattern anywhere. could it be–? the snow haired boy immediately perks up. his drunk dazed eyes brighten as he quickly makes his way to the door. 

geto snorts at the way his best friend reacts. he thinks he can see an imaginary tail wagging, as if he were a dog. 

“you’re late!” gojo accuses you when he opens the door. you blink.

“are you…okay?” your voice is laced with concern as gojo’s large frame towers over you. gojo preens.

“awww, is my [name] worried about me now? don’t worry, ‘m doing just fine!” there is a goofy grin painted on gojo’s face as he leans against the doorway. all conversation has stopped and every sorcerer was listening attentively to gojo's hopeless conversation with you. utahime can’t help but feel just a little compassion for the boy. he was pining so much it hurt.

“i wasn’t worried. it's just that your words are all slurred– don’t tell me you let shoko talk you into drinking with her again?” you sigh. it was hard to miss the smell of beer on him. gojo and alcohol never mixed well, and the last thing you needed tonight was another lecture from yaga. 

from inside her room, shoko shouts, “it wasn’t me this time! the idiot decided to drown himself in beer after we warned him not to!” it was common knowledge that gojo couldn’t handle his alcohol. 

the male in question pouts.

“can a man not grieve about the love of his life being married to another?” gojo deflates. on the other side of the threshold, you wrinkle your nose.

“who said anything about marriage? like hell i’m going to accept a proposal from naoya zen’in.” you grumble. it had been a long night. dealing with your family and naoya was enough to scare you into staying in jujutsu tech for good. you’d rather lose your sanity to gojo than your dignity to naoya. 

“never mind that though, are mei mei and utahime still here? i was hoping to catch up with them!” you smile, crouching under his arm to make your way into the room. gojo doesn’t hesitate to trail right behind you. 

“[name]!” utahime waves happily at you, her mood no longer sour after she sees you. your wave back is enthusiastic. mei mei acknowledges your presence.

“how was dinner with naoya?” suguru asks. your face pinches up. he laughs before handing you a cold can of soda which you accept graciously.

you hear gojo mutter to himself from behind you.

“what’s up with him?” you whisper to suguru.

“you know how he is when he drinks,” he sighs, ushering you to sit beside him. gojo seemed to have his own agenda though, forcefully squeezing himself between the two of you. you shoot him an annoyed look to which he responds with a grin on his face. 

“‘m tired,” he whines, stretching his arms dramatically while letting out a loud yawn. you grunt when there’s a heavy weight on you; gojo has thrown his entire body on your side.

you don’t bother pushing him off. you’ve learned in the two years you’ve known gojo that he is like a baby when he gets drunk. it’s best if you let him have his way.

“go to sleep then, idiot,” you flick his forehead. he juts his bottom lip childishly, looking up at you with wide eyes. his eyes are captivating and you think you see nervousness through those azure orbs.

“will you come to bed with me too?” he rests his chin on your shoulder. you raise an eyebrow in surprise.

“eh? why would i?”

“because i’m cute.” gojo bats those long eyelashes of his innocently. you roll your eyes playfully before taking another sip out of your soda. 

“you’re weird– that’s what you are.” your lips quirk upward, eyes twinkling with mirth. he sulks, chin still comfortably supported by your shoulder.

“‘m not that bad!” he protests, a frown forming on his lips. you look at him for a long moment. this was the first time you’ve ever gotten to look at gojo this closely. 

his hair was getting longer, you note silently. with your free hand, you slowly move a strand of hair out of his face. gojo watches you earnestly. if his cheeks were not already flushed, they are now. 

“can we stop it with the flirting? let us single folk live in peace.” shoko speaks up. you turn your attention hastily from gojo to the rest of your fellow peers. 

“i feel like i’m intruding on something,” mei mei says scandalously. your eyes widen.

“we are not– no way!” you shake your head repeatedly. no one believes you. especially not while gojo is still resting on your shoulder, eyes watching you, full of love.

“stop giving him all your attention and talk to us! we’re much better company,” utahime scowls, pointing her beer disapprovingly at the white haired boy on you. you think you hear gojo grunt.

“alright, alright,” you concede. 

“i hope you don’t mind me asking again, but do tell us how your night with the zen’in kid went,” suguru snickers. you groan exasperatedly.

“where do i even start?”

the rest of the night goes by pleasantly. you had been so engrossed with retelling your experience with dealing with your family that you had failed to notice what gojo was up to. by the time everyone left their respective dorms (or temporary dorms), you noticed the head of white hair sleeping soundly on your lap.

he mumbles something in his sleep, nuzzling himself closer into your stomach. cute. you giggle at how innocent he looks. 

you don’t know what took over you, but you remember bending down and placing a soft kiss on his forehead. to your surprise, gojo reciprocates your kiss. to the best of his capabilities anyway. you watch as he puckers his lips in his sleep. oh my– how precious.

you suppose he isn't so bad.

notes. THANK U FOR BEING MY FIRST ANON ASK. ily!!! i saw somewhere that gege confirmed gojo would have drunken failures when he was a student haha this is my take on that. hes so bf

also thank you for all the support on my first post?!? you guys are too sweet im crying. i literally giggle and kick my feet reading your feedback ><

[sin-oh]

onsen incident  — gojo satoru

synopsis. gojo satoru gets everything he wants and right now he really wants to go to an onsen with you.

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, he's just a cute loser, highschool!gojo (first year), he needs to be locked up asap

notes. this is part ii to indulge me? and a piece in the series, but can be read alone.

you’re not sure how you ended up here. one moment you were exorcizing a grade one curse that rampaged a small town with gojo and now you find yourself back at the ryokan you had stayed at the prior night. except this time around you have an overly excited gojo, still at a high from the successful mission.

“suguru mentioned how nice the onsens here were,” he brings up innocently, his lips curving into a sly grin. you spare him a side glance. 

“we should be heading back to the airport to return to tokyo,” you asserted, eyes trained on the entrance of the onsen— a wooden paneled door leading to the private hot spring that came with the room you and gojo had unknowingly reserved. 

gojo stretched leisurely, his body arched like a cat as he yawns, “i don’t know about you but i’m beat! that curse wore out all my energy and a quick dip in an onsen is just what this body needs.” he opens one eye, gauging your reaction.

you don’t buy his act. “you exorcised the curse instantaneously, gojo.”

but gojo doesn’t back down easily, “yeah, well that took up a lot of cursed energy and now i’m drained,” he reasons. the white haired male solidifies his argument by collapsing on you just to show how fatigued he was. his dramatic show nearly sends you tumbling.

annoyance simmered in you, arms folding over your chest. the flight back to tokyo was in a couple of hours, and you had hoped to be able to go sightseeing. 

but gojo’s sky-blue eyes plead silently as they look up at you, unblinking. his pink lips start to quiver. it was hard to deny him when he was basically begging. as comical as his dramatics were, you could almost argue how hard it was to resist his unwavering gaze. plus, he was the one that completed the mission singlehandedly.  

“fine.” you yielded. “thirty minutes and then we leave.”

he perks up happily.

“great! let’s go!” without wasting a moment, he seizes your hand and practically skips to the entrance. 

you recoiled, nearly shrieking, “you pervert! i’m not going in there with you! i’m going to go sightseeing.” 

gojo looks at you like you’ve sprouted two heads.

“... then what’s the point of the onsen?” he looked at you incredulously. it deeply troubled you that someone so conniving could look so innocent.

your response is caught in your throat, leaving you flustered and unable to make eye contact. arms remained crossed, you mutter, “you’re insane if you think i’m stepping foot in an onsen with you.”

gojo’s tongue prodded at his cheek, lost in thought, “they do say you have to be insane to be a jujutsu sorcerer." he looks at you all enthused, "don’t be shy now, we’ve already slept together after all.” there’s a teasing lilt in his voice.

“we slept in the same bed– not together! don’t you go spreading that around now,” you jump to cup a hand over his mouth. you feel him grin underneath the palm of your hand.

“same thwing,” gojo’s voice is muffled, but he doesn’t bother taking your soft hand off his face. 

“it is not,” you furrow your eyebrows. 

“it can be.” he wiggles his eyebrows, a boyish smile growing.

you remove your hand from his face, “have you no shame?” 

“not a shred,” he declares cheerfully. “come on, we’re wasting precious time standing here. i can feel the steaming water calling our names.” 

“i’ve told you already, gojo. i’m not going to a hot spring naked with you.” 

he waves his hand dismissively, “you don’t have to be naked, it’s not unheard of for people to go in with a towel.”

you sigh exasperatedly at his stubborn disposition, “it would still be highly inappropriate.”

“as inappropriate as cuddling with your classmate while he’s naked and unconscious?” he raises an eyebrow suggestively. gojo was once again referring to the previous night’s moment of vulnerability.

you stiffen. 

“it was not like that and you know it. for all i know, you were the one cuddling me,” you retorted, crossing your arms with a huff.

 gojo raises his hands in defense, “how about we call it even and hop in the hot spring together as a compromise?”

“that doesn’t make any sense.”

“it makes perfect sense. just two classmates relieving the weight of the world off their shoulders.” 

you hate that he’s starting to convince you. 

the knowing smile creeping on gojo’s face signals that he’s sensed your weakening resolve. he decides to deal the finishing blow.

“this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. with busy lives like ours, who knows the next time we will be able to visit one of the world’s best hot springs?” he gestures dramatically. reluctantly, you start to give into his words.

“fine. but if i see you indecent, i will kill you.” you point a finger threateningly at gojo. 

he simply chuckles, “kinky.”

operation satoru x [name]!!!!

gojosatowu attachment: 1 image

shoko.ieiri what the actual hell gojo.  i did not need to see a picture of you with nothing but a towel on. ts is disgusting.

getosugu where is [name]? i thought you guys were returning from your mission today.

gojosatowu heh the two of us are going to take a little dip in kyushu’s world famous onsens haha :3

shoko.ieiri WHAT

getosugu  you?? [name]?? onsen?? together?? gojo satoru explain hello?

shoko.ieiri where is [name] you dirty pervert  i swear i’ll murder you if you pull any dirty tricks answer now

gojosatowu gotta go! ive been dreaming of this day ><

shoko.ieiri  don’t you go ignoring us!!

you’re already settled in the hot spring by the time gojo arrives. with a snug towel secured tightly around your body, you are submerged underwater from the chest down. the steam curls lazily into the air, casting a dreamlike haze around you.

“for someone that was excited about the onsen, you came awfully late,” you quipped at the snow-haired boy. his signature glasses are absent, allowing you complete access to his azure eyes. on the other hand, gojo is granted the opportunity of seeing you in all of your natural beauty.

gojo enters the steaming water just a couple of feet away from you, “had to calm myself before seeing you.” he sighs contentedly when the water envelopes him. it was true. his nerves were a lot calmer when he was fighting the grade one curse than the short walk from the changing room to the hot spring.

you can't help but roll your eyes at his obvious flirtation attempt, but you decide to let it slide.

the conversation lapses into silence, an awkward veil settling between you. you were starting to regret ever entertaining gojo’s invitation to the onsen. to escape the discomfort, you divert your gaze to the steam rising from the water's surface and the surrounding rocks. the trees around you start to look interesting as you focus on not letting you eyes stray on gojo’s solid buil—

then, breaking the silence, gojo interjects, "did ya think i looked cool taking down that curse?"

your eyes shift from the rocks to gojo’s face, “it was quite impressive how you were able to crush the curse with your infinity.” you have heard of stories of gojo’s strength, but seeing it with your very own eyes was truly incredible.

he preens under your praise, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

"perhaps i deserve a reward," he suggests, his voice taking on a playful tone.

you entertain the idea, your curiosity piqued. "i suppose you do."

a deeper flush tinges gojo's cheeks, and he averts his gaze. without warning, he points at his cheek, anticipating something. you tilt your head, puzzled by his unspoken request. he keeps pointing to his cheek, poking it multiple times.

“…”

“give me a kiss!”

the water ripples with how fast you lean back, “huh? no way.”

undeterred, gojo shakes his head. "fine then. i guess i'll have to kiss you.

your eyes widen as he leans closer, and you instinctively scoot away, surprised by his boldness. "what? no!"

“eh?! why not? i went total snowagumon on that curse!”

“that’s your job gojo,” you respond matter-of-factly. you’re a bit taken aback by his digimon reference. how dorky.

gojo clicks his tongue, feigning indignation as he looks away. “hmph. can’t even get appreciation for keeping the world in balance.” 

you let out a resigned sigh, realizing he's being dramatic again. it almost feels like dealing with a child. but you suppose you’ll play right into his hands this time– and this time only. he has worked hard on this mission, taking on all the work while you watch idly from the sidelines.

hesitantly, you inch closer towards his frame. the distance closes as you lean towards his face. it was only a split second, but your lips placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. 

you watch what once was a pink blush blossomed into something deeper. gojo sits up a little straighter and you notice how the corner of his lips are slightly upward.

“gojo, are you oka–” 

“satoru. call me satoru,” he interjected, sounding breathless, his eyes locking on yours. 

you look at him, uncertain. “isn’t that a bit too informal? we’ve only known each other for a couple of months.”

“if it was up to me, we’d be married by now,” satoru closes his eyes nonchalantly, sinking deeply into the water until half of his face is under. he blows a series of bubbles. he really was a child.

your laughter rings out melodiously as you throw your head back, finding his remark utterly amusing.  “you’re actually ridiculous.” 

satoru watches you with a soft smile, his heart feeling lighter. it was criminal how cute you were. if this was his reward for exorcizing a measly grade one curse, he was willing to wipe out all special grades on the earth just to receive your praise again. maybe next time you'll even kiss him on the lips (he'll die a happy man if that happens).

"i am, aren't i?" he muses, basking in the joy of the moment.

extra notes. i lowk hate this but due to popular demand i had to write it. ps i dont even know anything abt digimon i js know gojo likes it gn (forgive me if my digimon reference was totally wrong)

[sin-oh]

A/N: I'm blushing over roommate Geto with mutual pinning 🤧 also, I've been having huge writers block rn 😓

“Whatever you’re cooking smells delicious.” You emphasize at the end, slowly dragging your hand across his broad, muscular shoulders as you shuffled behind the latter till you situated yourself beside him. “It should since I’m making your favorite tonight,” Geto replies with a small smile, knowing the expression that’s soon to be shown on your complexion any second now. 

You gasp, a broad smile spread across your face before punching the taller in the bicep. But to Geto, it was merely a soft nudge. “Beef curry?” You question excitedly, even when you know the answer. “Mhm. Here, taste this.” He scoops a bit of curry from the pan and into the spoon, softly blowing onto it to cool it down. “Let me know if it’s too salty or too sweet.” He raises it to your lips with his other hand placed right below the silverware to catch any fallings. 

“I can do it myself, y’know?” You couldn’t help but blush as the male urged the spoon closer to your lips. “But little Ms. y/n loves getting her princess treatment.” He responds, tapping the tip of the spoon against your bottom lip. You roll your eyes at him, pushing past the feeling of your heart fluttering. 

You part your lips enough for Geto to push the spoon into your mouth. You close your lips around it, catching the curry onto your tongue before pulling your head back and allowing the spoon to slip out. 

“Good girl.”

You nearly choke. 

You watch as he waits in anticipation. You swallow the curry, momentarily closing your eyes before letting out a small moan of approval, “Sugu’, this is so good.”

He can’t ignore the twitch in his cock at your moan, but he smiles warmly at you in response. He raises his thumb to your lips, wiping away the excess curry at the corner of your mouth before licking the pad of his finger clean. You look up to see him gazing down at you. Calm down, Y/n. But you can’t when you swear you caught him glancing down at your lips. But you are as guilty when you do the same. He slowly leans down, inching his lips closer to yours. You hold your breath in anticipation, leaning in as well. 

[sin-oh]

I, Roronoa Zoro, have a crush

🏴‍☠️————————-💚-————————🏴‍☠️

Characters: OPLA (One Piece Live Action) Roronoa Zoro x Straw-Hat-Crew-Member!gn!reader

Summary: Fluff headcanons of OPLA Zoro developing a crush on you + mini fluff scenarios

Warnings: Some OPLA spoilers ahead! Other than that, all fluff

Strawbetty’s notes: Dipping my toes into the One Piece fandom to say hello and give you my contribution to OPLA Zoro content :). Mackenyu as Zoro is fiiiiine. I finished the live action and I NEED MORE :’0. Currently watching the anime rn

🏴‍☠️————————-💚-————————🏴‍☠️

💚 Zoro didn’t like you at first when Luffy recruited you to be a part of the Straw Hats.

💚 Like how Zoro felt when he first met Luffy, Zoro found you overly optimistic and chatty—the complete opposite of himself.

💚 Zoro’s also someone who, despite being really perceptive, has a bad habit of making snap judgments against people he doesn’t know well and prefers to keep them at a distance, and he made the poor assumption that you probably never went through anything difficult in life since you seemed so happy all the time.

💚 Thus, he didn’t really go out of his way to talk to you or get to know you at first, unlike the rest of the crew, but you also didn’t mind too much. You’d greet him with a “good morning” every morning, but he’d only give you a nod.

💚 “Don’t mind him, he’s like that with all new crew members,” Nami reassured you.

💚 It wasn’t until a few days later when the entire crew was having dinner on deck under the stars—and you opened up about your life (the losses and hardships you’ve experienced despite being just a young adult)—that made Zoro change his mind about you.

💚 He surprised himself when he volunteered to help you wash the dishes after dinner, and surprised himself even more when he muttered, “Sorry.”

💚 “For what?” You raised a brow, water dripping from your fingers as you reached for a hand towel to dry your hands.

💚 “For not being so…friendly when you first joined,” Zoro’s eyes flickered up from the plates to your face.

💚 He couldn’t help but be taken aback when you gave him a smile—a smile so bright and kind it almost took his breath away. Sure, you smiled a lot at everyone, but this was the first time your smile was directed at just him up close.

💚 “It’s alright,” you chuckled, taking a plate he handed to you and placing it onto the drying rack. “I’m used to people assuming things about me.”

💚 “How do you do it?” Zoro crossed his arms, though his relaxed stance conveyed his sincere curiosity. “Smile all the time?”

💚 “Because smiling makes me happy,” you didn’t miss a beat. “And if I can do that for myself and my smile ends up making someone else happy, that’s good enough for me.”

💚 A half-smile quirked on Zoro’s lips at your words. You were a good person, and he was sorry he didn’t see that sooner.

💚 “See, you’re smiling now,” you teased, your smile growing.

💚 “Nope,” Zoro turned his attention to the utensils he had to wash, but his smile didn’t falter one bit.

💚 After that day, a friendship blossomed between you two. Some nights you’d find Zoro sharpening his blades, other nights he’d find you on deck gazing up at the stars while the others were asleep. Whatever the reasons that kept the two of you awake at night, they helped bring you two closer together.

💚 You and Zoro began your late night talks by sharing stories with each other about your childhoods and the people who helped shape your lives for the better. The two of you would even exchange banter and develop inside jokes.

💚 Zoro grew to feel safe in confiding with you about his innermost thoughts and feelings, and he made you feel safe in doing the same as well.

💚 As the months went by, Zoro would look forward to every opportunity he had to talk with you, whether that be during the day with the rest of the crew or at night with just the two of you.

💚 He had no doubt by now that he could call you someone he deeply cared for, especially when his heart would try to jump out of his chest whenever your hand accidentally brushed against his or when his heart squeezed like a towel being rung dry any time you got hurt during battle.

💚 But as someone who’s never thought about romance or had any experience with romantic relationships, Zoro didn’t really consider the possibility that he was falling for you.

💚 It didn’t take long for some of the crew members to see and realize that Zoro cared for you in a special way, though, especially as Zoro’s romantic feelings for you became more and more evident to the others through his actions.

💚 For example, Zoro would tell Sanji not once, not twice, but thrice that you didn’t like a specific ingredient in your meals because of allergies or whatnot, even though Sanji knew that already. One morning, Sanji caught Zoro making a horrible yet endearing attempt to make your favorite breakfast for you. With an amused smirk, Sanji offered to teach Zoro how to make your favorite breakfast (only after Zoro made Sanji swear to never tell anyone about it).

💚 Nami realized Zoro had feelings for you when she saw the way Zoro would protectively stand in front of you in the face of danger, or check on you if you sustained even a minor injury (even though everyone in the crew knew you could protect yourself). Nami didn’t bring it up since she didn’t think it was any of her business, but she’d have a small smile on her face whenever she saw Zoro perk up even just a tiny bit whenever you called his name.

💚 Usopp and Luffy didn’t really pick up on anything until Sanji let out an offhand comment in the kitchen about Zoro being “smitten” with you (luckily, you and Zoro were on deck practicing your combat skills with Nami).

💚 Of course, Sanji’s comment blew Usopp’s mind. Luffy, on the other hand, didn’t really listen and had his full attention on whatever dish Sanji was making for lunch.

💚 “Zoro’s got a cruuush,” Usopp sang that afternoon, slinging an arm around Zoro’s shoulders while Luffy came up next to them.

💚 Zoro turned his head to the side to check if you were nearby. Thankfully, you were nowhere in sight.

💚 “I don’t do crushes,” Zoro shrugged Usopp off at the same time Luffy asked, “Who’s got a crush?”

💚 “Listen, if you need love advice, I’m your guy,” Usopp insisted, trying to catch up to Zoro as he left Usopp and Luffy behind to go to his room. “I’ve had tons of relationships, trust me.”

💚 “Having barely one relationship doesn’t make you qualified to give me love advice,” Zoro replied coolly, referencing Kaya to Usopp, as he strode to his berth.

💚 “Ouch!” Usopp dramatically brought a hand to his heart. “My offer still stands though!”

💚 Zoro made his way into his room and shut the door behind him. He eased himself onto his hammock and his eyes flitted up to the wooden ceiling.

💚 The ocean waves beneath the ship were calm this afternoon, and the soft golden rays of sunlight shimmered onto his body through his room’s tiny circular window. Usually Zoro would take a nap by now, but he couldn’t help but wonder what stories you were going to share with him tonight or what corny jokes you were going to crack at dinner that would make him laugh despite himself.

💚 But most of all, he couldn’t wait to see you smile again. A smile began to stretch across his face as he pictured your smile—

💚 —“I don’t have a crush,” Zoro stated out loud defensively even though no one was there. He tried to will his lips into a straight line as he ran a hand through the cropped moss-green tufts of his hair and shut his eyes to take a nap.

💚 Instead, his eyes found themselves opening and next thing Zoro knew, he was already out the door.

💚 Zoro was thankful no one was with him at the moment, or they would’ve seen a grin on his face as he made his way to wherever you were in hopes of seeing your smile.

💚 I, Roronoa Zoro, have a crush.

🏴‍☠️————————-💚-————————🏴‍☠️

Important:

🍓 I don’t own any of the characters I mention or write about; they belong to their original and respective creators.

🍓 All content on this blog is created by me, @thebettybook (excluding posts I reblog that aren’t my own posts and unless I state otherwise). Do not modify, claim, repost, or translate my work onto this platform and any other platform.

🍓 Reblogs are appreciated :).

🏴‍☠️————————-💚-————————🏴‍☠️

[sin-oh]

I know this is like so random but do you have any geto, gojo, nanami, or megumi ao3 recs because the only good fics I’ve read of jjk are ones you’ve written 😭

you have come to the right place :,) i post more recs than fics at this point haha most of these are copy pasted off previous rec lists but have been added onto! the ones with green + marks are NEW RECS

here's a post on how to use ao3 to find fics by yourself for those who dont know <3

gojo + ao3:

+ intrinsic warmth: my favourite fic of all time. like genuinely. insane writing, fucking amazing in every sense of the term. 2nd time recommending this! reader's character is so sick BUT updates real slow (which isnt a bad thing!! good things take time!!) so i wouldn't read if you aren't patient // 122k words, 15 chapters, incomplete

+ ripverse: not really a series, more like a compilation of fics! it's got a lot of angst and the one titled 'interlude' contains smut i think so beware, and it's also a lovetriangle/poly-but-geto-goes-crazy-so-not-poly moment // 55k words, 8 pieces

+ the witches' brew: super cute fluff! reader owns a cafe, gojo is a regular, it's all around adorable // 2 chapters, 11k words, completed

+ all that is solid melts into air: arranged marriage trope! i haven't read but @/aanobrain loves this one // 7k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ cake batter: established relationship w/ dad!gojo & megumi <33 not much to say, just short n sweet, i am such a sucker for dad gojo so its no surprise there's one of these on the list.. // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ best of luck: initial concept is really unique!! confessions, slight angst, takes place at the beginning/middle-ish of s1 i think? so cute loved this &lt;;3 // 5k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ afternoon tea(se): gojo torturing megumi. classic !! so so cute love the banter // 1.7k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ my apologies, gordon ramsay: god i hate this man. jk. reader is a teacher and a functional human being; gojo is not. loved! // 8k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ a name known only to paper: platonic, angst- beautifully written, such a unique idea. reader is gojo's older sibling. // 3k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ heart beats: another collection! i looove gojo in this so so cute i also adore bff nanami in the last one haha // 11k words, 3 pieces

+ exposure therapy: this is 1/2 of a 2 piece collection. when i read this for the first time i was floored- i love the creative take, and the reader's character (it was a 'she's so me' moment). this author writes with such a subtle but unadulterated take on love and i adore it // 5k words

+ how to be a human being: 2/2 of the previous rec and the perfect continuation in every sense of the term. oh my gosh, is this masterful- from the relationships & writing of megumi and tsumiki to gojo (i almost forgot this was a rec for him) it's all around amazing // 20k words

+ the sanctity of a name: SO SENTIMENTAL !! what an adorable work that rly goes into the psychology and significance of his technique + upbringing. so real and raw and very him // 2k words, complete, 1 chapter

+ assumptions: omf jealous gojo...... he's so cute in this!! you guys are married and it's almost his birthday, but while you're planning his surprise party he suspects something else.. // 6k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ even with the lights off: RAHHHH another fic that has me floored and pushing the #saveijichi agenda at the same time // 8k words, 2 chapters, complete

nanami + ao3:

+ math help: dad!nanami w son!yuuji.... yeah that's all i really need to say i think! // 1 chapter, 2k words, complete

+ photo albums: nanami shares abt his childhood! // 1k wc, 1 chapter, complete

+ i don't really read for nanami but i would check out @aanobrain and maybe shoot them an ask bc she's a big fan :)

geto + ao3:

+ lessons in love: DAD!GETO.................. im such a sucker for a good family dynamic in fics and this is adorable !! no curse au if i remember right! // 4k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ forever is in your eyes: angsty but ends in fluff :,) touches on his mental state, riko's death, all that! so sweet, i adore how this author writes him <;3 // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ ripverse: not really a series, more like a compilation of fics! it's got a lot of angst and the one titled 'interlude' contains smut i think so beware, and it's also a lovetriangle/poly w gojo-but-geto-goes-crazy-so-not-poly moment // 55k words, 8 pieces

+ dog days are over: a series!! by the same author who wrote ripverse which is how you know it's going to be brilliant !! marriage, parenthood, some nsfw moments // 30k words, 5 chapters, incomplete

+ curious cat: cat gojo and neighbor geto.. i love this one! it's so so cute and sweet, if you're looking for some light fluff this is definetely for you // 8k words, 5 chapters, complete

megumi + ao3:

+ complicit: college!au !! i remember reading this and loving it omg, the unique concept kept me hooked and interested, especially paired w the lovely writing! one of my fav series ive read. be warned, last chapter is nsfw // 18k words, 5 chapters, complete

+ a very special december 22nd: cute bday fic :,) forgive me for reccing all this author's megumi fics... theyre just too good !! i love the dynamics, all of it! // 5k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ kisses and cough syrup: THE BANTER!! THE FLUFF!!!!! i love this fic sm, so cute! // 1k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ nocturnal: establishING relationship fics are one of my fav genres and this hits the nail on the head.. he's so stupid silly in this and i know you'll love it like i do // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ lover boy: 2nd year reader, annoying meddling gojo, placed at the beginning-ish where megumi gets beat tf up- what more could you ask for! // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ difficult to not overthink: todo strikes again! you ponder megumi's type // 1k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ ten confessions: megumi: ten dif confessions in dif tropes each time, so they can all be read as stand-alone pieces! so so cute and beautifully written.. we all know i love a good confession // 19k words, 7 chapters, incomplete

+ therefore, i am: reader gets mixed up in the world of sorcery.. megumi's there, too! // 3k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ takes one to know one: flowershop au..... convulsing on the ground. my fav trope, ever, and so so cute oh my GOSH // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete

+ i really (x6) like you: fluff!! this is the one i linked in my og ask but it deserves a place here too &lt;3 // 4k words, 1 chapter, complete

[sin-oh]

“How could you do this?!”

“How could you do this to us?!”

“What did you hoped to achieve by casting me away?!”

“It’s because of you!”

“Because your light weakens me!”

“You weakens me…”

“… do you think I wanted to do this?”

[sin-oh]

Hello! You asked for Sesshomaru ideas and I’m here to deliver! I know this may be cliche, but him seeing you interact with Rin and Jaken would make him all fuzzy inside, don’t you think? 😌 Or alternatively, him being super proud of you after you protect Rin from an enemy? 🤔 I’m in love with the series, your writing is beautiful!

anon, this prompt right here? it spoke to me. and then it grew and grew and grew into... well, this. i hope you enjoy it!

iv. tactics

“They’re following us.”

“I know,” you murmur, keeping your voice low so as not to alarm Rin or alert the two men trailing you that you’ve noticed their approach.

Your fingers itch to wrap around the hilt of the sword Sesshomaru had gifted you, its weight a reassurance against your hip, but you squeeze Rin’s calves instead.

“Hold tight to me. Don’t let go, alright?”

Rin nods, more felt than seen against the ball of your shoulder, and tightens her grip around your neck. “Will you fight them?” She sounds more curious than afraid, and her confidence in your ability to protect her - or perhaps her confidence that Sesshomaru will interfere should the situation escalate - serves to soothe your own fear.

The further you travel away from the safety of the human village you’d passed through, the more your fear evolves into something else - anger. It wasn’t often that you were without Sesshomaru, but there were necessities that required you and Rin to make use of the various human villages you came across - clothing or food or medicine that two demons and a dragon wouldn’t have use for or be able to provide.

Usually these excursions were completed without incident, but it seems that you had been noticed this time. Noticed, and taken for an easy target.

Your lips settle into a tight line. It’s a mistake you would make them pay for.

Your neck runs hot with the weight of their eyes on your back, but Sesshomaru has taught you patience, and it’s only when the smoke and the noise from the village has faded that you reach for your sword.

“Now, Rin!”

Rin drops from your back, blades of grass kicked up in her wake as she darts into the safety of the forest. You twist on your heel, blade swinging in an arc, to be met with the shocked expression of the man who had been preparing to bury his own blade into your back.

He crumples to the ground, hands scrabbling for his stomach. Blood seeps through his fingers and colors the end of your blade, and though the sight turns your own stomach, you ready yourself to confront the remaining man with fire in your gaze.

“You’ll pay for that,” he growls, his sword meeting yours with the sharp ring of steel against steel. He’s clumsy with his attacks, relying more on brute strength than skill, and though you’ve never taken up arms against an enemy before, Sesshomaru has taught you enough to recognize every heavy-handed blow your would-be attacker seeks to inflict upon you.

You’re so focused on your opponent that the rest of the world seems to fall away, your heartbeat drumming in your ears with each strike, each block, each desperate thrust.

It’s only when Rin screams your name that the world comes rushing back in - the breeze through the trees, the scuffle of your feet across the ground -

And the labored breathing of someone behind you.

With a wrench of your shoulder you’re turning, blade thrusting forward. A desperate gargle and the spray of blood meets your strike, and though it curdles your stomach to see the man’s throat skewered upon your blade, to feel the wetness of his blood on your cheeks, you have no time to linger, you have to turn around, you have to -

The roar of flames licking at your back has you pausing, twisting over your shoulder to see your last opponent wreathed in fire. Your ears ache at the depths of his screams, and yet you’re relieved to see Jaken with the Staff of Heads held aloft, spewing flames that scorch the earth at your feet.

Behind him stands Sesshomaru, Rin tucked safely against his side.

You let out a breath, hoping the demon lord doesn’t see your hands shaking as you pull your blade free of your enemy’s throat. The man falls to the ground in a heap, eyes rolling lifelessly, and you clean your blade free of his blood with a lump in your throat before making your way over to the group.

“Vermin,” Jaken mutters, turning his nose up at the pile of ash and bone left in the wake of his staff.

Rin reaches for your hand, tangling her small fingers with yours, and you give her a smile you hope is reassuring even as your throat burns at the scent of smoke and death in the air.

“Are you hurt?” she asks you, her voice subdued.

You shake your head, not quite trusting your voice, and tug her along behind the demon lord. He has yet to acknowledge you, but the sight of his broad shoulders and the scent of his youki is at once achingly familiar and incredibly soothing, serving to ease the troubled state of your heart.

You turn your face away from the remnants of your attackers, desperate to hold on to the peace that Sesshomaru’s presence brings you, but the scent of ash and blood lingers on the wind, and it follows you.

*

The river flows steadily before you, warmed by the waning afternoon sun.

You stare at your hands beneath the surface of the water, thumbing at the blood caked into your skin and watching as it flakes into clouds of murky pink.

You can hear Ah-Un growling in triumph as he scoops another fish free of the river. A quick glance upstream shows the dragon with its heads lowered over the water, eyes trained on the shadowy visages of fish that pass by.

On the bank, Jaken sets a circle of logs alight with the Staff of Heads. Rin stands at the ready with an armful of silver-scaled fish skewered on sharpened sticks, and at Jaken’s urging places them around the fire to cook.

“Careful!” the imp squawks when Rin’s fingers creep too close to the flames, and despite the roiling in your gut that has yet to subside, you’re unable to quell the smile that curls your lips at the sight of the imp taking Rin’s hand in his to check for burns.

Sesshomaru is nowhere to be seen, and though you’ve traveled far beyond the bounds of the village where you’d been followed, you know he’s gone to patrol the perimeter of your camp. Should anyone - human or demon alike - come anywhere near your group, the strength of the demon lord’s youki would dissuade them from approaching.

His absence now feels proof enough that your and Rin’s encounter with the villagers had affected him in some way, though you’ve yet to figure out how. Had he been concerned? Angered?

Proud?

You pull your hands free from the water, your lips twisting at such a foolish thought, and yet it persists. The demon lord has yet to speak a word to you, whether in condemnation or praise, and as you rise to your feet, the ache of a hard-fought battle settling deeply into your bones, you wonder if he ever will.

Dinner is a quiet affair, at least on your end. You pick at your helping of fish, less concerned with your own sustenance and more keen to watch Rin toss morsels into Ah-Un’s waiting mouths, her eyes bright with laughter as the dragon gobbles them down. Jaken mutters about the disgusting habits of humans and overgrown lizards, but even his beleaguered sighs carry a hint of fondness to them.

A fierce ache fills your chest as you realize that this moment could have been stolen from you, taken with little more than the thrust of a blade.

And yet you had protected Rin, protected yourself, and cut down those who would seek to harm you both.

Night falls, your companions falling prey to slumber one after the other, and yet you sit before the fire with no desire to follow them. Instead you find yourself flexing your fingers, noting the calluses that have formed ever since you took up a sword. The sensation of flesh splitting around your blade curdles your stomach, but the knowledge that you are no longer completely helpless eases the roiling in your gut.

Perhaps, given enough time and training, you could even protect the great demon lord himself.

It’s another foolish thought - one such as Sesshomaru has no need for the protection of a mere human, and yet the sentiment remains. You would fight for him - will fight for him, in whatever capacity you may be able. You will allow no harm to come to him, to Rin, or to the companions that travel with you.

I swear it. It’s an oath you make silently and only to yourself, and though the only response you receive is the crackling of flames and Ah-Un’s grumble as the dragon twitches in sleep, you feel strengthened by it. Eased. Bound.

And as the familiar storm-cloud scent of Sesshomaru’s youki settles over you, heralding his return, you harness that strength to rise to your feet and meet him.

Your encounters with demons have always been frightening, fraught with danger and the looming inevitability of your death should they set their claws upon you. Yet you stand before the demon lord, cut through by those sharp golden eyes and breathing in the fierce, wild tinge to his youki, with no fear at all. Your only thought - your only desire - is to move closer.

And so you do.

Sesshomaru regards your approach with an expression that doesn’t waver, doesn’t change, and yet you can feel it in the air when his youki flares, like a sharp crack of thunder on a clear summer’s day. Your heartbeat quickens.

Sharp claws rise into the space between you - claws that exude poison, claws that have ripped through the flesh of demons and humans alike - and yet you feel no fear as they near your face. You have no wish to run.

You want them on you.

And Sesshomaru obliges.

His fingers curl around your jaw, his eyes tracing the movement of his thumb as it glides over the curve of your cheek. His nail drags against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You smell of blood,” he says, and it’s the first you’ve heard of his voice since you and Rin departed into the village hours before. Low, measured, but layered with an undertone of something deeper. Rougher.

Your body tenses, but it isn’t fear that floods your veins.

“Not my own.” Your voice is barely a rasp.

“Not your own,” he repeats, and there, there it is, just a whisper in his voice. Pride. “But spilled by your hand. Spilled in my stead.”

An imperceptible tilt of his head sends strands of silver spilling over his shoulder. In the darkness of the night, with only the firelight at your back and the moon above to provide illumination, the demon lord appears otherworldly. Untouchable.

And yet he’s touching you. Holding you. Keeping you. Somehow, you’ve managed to earn a place by his side. To become someone precious to him.

Even your own doubts cannot diminish the truth of that. You wouldn’t be standing here otherwise, cheek cupped in the warmth of Sesshomaru’s palm. Save Rin, what human could boast of such closeness with the great demon lord of the west? What human could dare?

“I would spill more to keep Rin safe,” you tell him, and you mean it. To keep you safe, you almost say, but the words falter and die on your tongue.

His skin is warm, his fingertips worn with callouses from extensive sword use and topped with those deadly claws. They press into your skin, thin but sharp, though they fail to sink in and draw blood.

“It sickens you.” You half-expect the words to drip with disdain, not surprised that Sesshomaru had noticed your disquiet after the encounter with the villagers, and yet the demon lord’s voice lacks his usual contempt.

“It does,” you admit, your stomach curdling as you recall the scent of blood and ash. Your hands still sting from your frenzied cleansing at the river, your skin rubbed red and raw. “But… it’s the price I must pay for a place at your side.”

You know you speak the truth - without the ability to protect yourself and the resiliency to strike when you must, you’re of little use to your companions, and even with the demon lord’s propensity to be in the right place at precisely the right time, you couldn’t rely solely on him to keep you safe.

“Is that what you seek?” Sesshomaru takes a step closer, his claws tilting your jaw so that you’re unable to shy from his gaze. Gold darkens into rich amber. “A place by my side?”

“Y-yes,” you murmur, stumbling over your answer. There’s an intensity to the demon lord’s face that you’ve only ever seen in battle, and though it doesn’t frighten you, it catches you off guard.

Sesshomaru’s eyes narrow. “Foolish,” he tells you, easing closer until the space between you, sparse as it was in the first place, shrinks to nothing. The stormcloud scent of his youki grows stronger. Deeper. ”To think you could conceal yourself from this Sesshomaru.”

You stare into the fierceness of the demon lord’s eyes, silent with confusion. Does he think you a liar?

“You would be content to remain as you are,” Sesshomaru continues, his claws leaving your jaw to trail over the line of your throat and to your shoulder, where they curl around the scar left behind by a demon’s nasty bite - a bite the demon lord had soothed with his own tongue, angered that someone had dared to touch what was his. “To shadow my footsteps, to see to Rin as if she were your own.” His claws tighten around your shoulder - not enough to hurt, but enough to make you draw in a sharp breath. “To call for me in slumber, to seek out my touch, to offer your throat in supplication, and yet… “ His voice remains even, steady, and yet you feel his words crashing through you like a raging tide. “And yet you would be satisfied with nothing but a place at my side.”

Your breath catches in your throat - your breath, and a thousand words you suddenly wish to say. You want more, you ache to tell him. Of course you want more - to reach for him in more than just moments of pain or danger; to touch him as he has so often touched you, with purpose, with intent; to assuage that empty, awful ache that has clawed at you in his presence for so long.

But the words refuse to come. They sit, trembling, on the tip of your tongue, and though you try to set them loose, to spill them into the air between you and the demon lord, all that you accomplish is a thin, reedy gasp.

I'm afraid, you realize. Afraid of what it will mean if those words leave your lips, afraid that to push at the boundaries of your bond - your impossible bond - with the demon lord would be avarice. Surely he, the great demon lord of the west who exuded power and grace and killing intent, needed more - deserved more - than you?

At your silence, Sesshomaru releases your shoulder from his grasp. You watch in muted agony as he leaves your side, your hands curling into fists, raging at yourself, at your fears, at your inadequacies. What have you done?

“You wield a blade gifted to you by the great demon lord of the west.” Sesshomaru’s voice strikes through your own self-loathing like the keenest blade. The glance he bestows upon you over the curve of his shoulder is sharp as steel. “No human can boast of such a feat, save one.” His gaze bores into yours. “You would do well to remember that.”

You watch him walk away, your heart beating about your chest like a trapped bird. An opportunity has passed you by, and you know it.

You swallow, reaching down to curl a hand around the hilt of your sword. The gesture has grown into a source of comfort since Sesshomaru first placed the blade in your care, and it eases your mind now to feel your fingers settle into the grooves.

Your fears had bested you this night, overwhelmed you, but as your fingers tighten around your sword, you swear that they will not control you. You would not squander what Sesshomaru was offering.

But you would wait, allow the tense atmosphere between you to ease before you approached Sesshomaru again. And if he refused you, doubted your devotion in the wake of what had occurred between you tonight, you would take the demon lord’s words to heart and do what he had taught you.

Fight.

[sin-oh]

don't look at me with those brown eyes or I might just spend the rest of my life keeping your hands warm

[sin-oh]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

─── prohero!bakugo katsuki x f!reader

+ genre: fluff cw. mentions of alcohol, bakugo can’t explain his feelings and he hates it, he’s pouty so pouty, oh reader has a quirk.

+ word count: 5.2k

─── summary: it’s on a totally ordinary night that bakugo finds out he can’t continue to play coy with his feelings anymore.

+ notes: this was a repost from my old blog! tweaked it just a bit. bringing the man here bc i love bakugo and i just want him to grow old and be happy ok :’) appreciate those of you who read this!! mwah <3

he isn’t too familiar with this feeling, if at all.

it’s the way it fills him up when he’s around you, like he’s been underwater for the past few years of his existence and yet whenever he catches sight of you it pushes him back up to the surface. he doesn’t understand it, and he’s not sure he wants to.

“hey, bakugo, which do you think ei would prefer: fruit cake or chocolate?”

there’s something about your question that irks him. he scoffs in your face but you don’t blink, you retain your innocence (or ignorance, bakugo really can’t tell) and wait for him to answer you.

“chocolate.”

all the cakes in this bakery are beautiful and their selection is extravagant but they all look like they could cause diabetes straightaway, excessive sweetness laced in every inch of every cake. still, all of you know that kirishima prefers chocolate cake, even if he’s adamant that his favourite is anything but.

“great!” and then you go back to gushing with kaminari over which chocolate cake to buy now. you two are like two peas in a pod. “denki, your turn: tiramisu cake or should we go for the big molten cake with the chocolate ooze filling?”

he really doesn’t understand it. it’s borderline irrational how irritated he gets just hearing you speak like that. bakugo this, bakugo that, yet you throw around denki and ei like it’s nothing. why the fuck is he irritated at something so trivial anyway?

you walk out of the bakery walking so closely to him too, and your bare arm brushes his bare arm and he’s about to fucking lose it at himself because you’re actually driving him insane and he doesn’t know what to fucking do about it.

Keep reading

[sin-oh]

amor fati [druig x fem!eternals reader

A/N: Ya girl is back and officially posting writing again. I know it’s been a while, but thank you for sticking with me. I didn’t think I’d write for Marvel again, but, well, like all of you, I was just taken by Barry’s performance as Druig, who (along with Makkari) quickly stole the whole movie for me. Keep an eye out for an upcoming TASM!Spidey and/or Matt Murdock fic, as well. Might as well go full-tilt Marvel now… 

This piece is probably a cliché, but oh well. I hope you like! Please tell me what you liked, what you didn’t, and what, if anything, I should do for Druig in the future. There is a playlist for this, as well. 

Reblogs are always appreciated! 

Pairing: Druig x fem eternal!reader (Reader’s legend is that of Artemis, the hunter goddess. No Y/N); some Drukkari x reader, if you’re looking. 

Word Count: 16.1k of eternal love, the stuff that poems are made of, and my usual abuse of simile and metaphor. Cotton candy sweetness – but careful, lest it dissolve between your fingertips. Who said romance wasn’t a little tragic? All’s well that ends well.

Warnings: my writing is its own warning, angst, eternals-style heartbreak (y'all have either seen the movie or read enough fic to know that our boy leaves), canon-typical violence, misuse of power. Also? Smut, so 18+ ONLY – touching, biting, outdoor naughtiness, mutual masturbation, and other things that occur more than once in here, okay? 

Summary: A love for the ages, yours and Druig’s feelings for one another have persisted throughout time and distance. Stoic as Druig is, winter snow melts in the light of spring, and a little hunter has held his heart in her hands for millennia. Gently traipses through the plot of the movie.

—

By starlight, everything was serene. A luminous, crescent crown.

Your awakening was like the warp and the weft, weaving the threads that comprised your personhood through a grandiose loom. It was simultaneously soft and scraping – A yarn-like itch behind your eyelids compelled you to open them, only to be met with a room full of strangers. 

You saw him then – eyes of twinkling, galactic starlight. Serene. 

You tilted the corner of your lips in a soft smile, hoping to convey similar softness. Welcoming. And his face? His face remained stoic. Passive.

As you would come to learn, as history unfolded, it all was positively Austenian. Dickensian. Shakespearean, maybe?

Here he was: The crystalline-eyed boy with raven hair and blooming-lily skin, so superior in his indifference. Who carried himself with a power that transcended time. A cool, quiet tempest. Burning insight and demand into the deepest corners of a mind, like the golden, fiery sun.   

There you were: The doe-eyed girl. Quick in wit (and to anger), the sharpness of your tongue second only to that of your arrows. Fearsome, to be sure, but soft for him. (As he would be for you). Graceful and generous. A flower known to bloom by the silvery light of the pale moon. 

There was no way to know it when you awoke. But the two of you would be wrapped in one another throughout eternity, as threads pulled tightly around a finger, woven through a loom. But perhaps you had been before then, if man could comprehend a “prior-to” eternity. If you could remember a time before now.

But forever is made of little nows…

Keep reading

[sin-oh]

“Kneel.” — Paul Atreides (18+)

AU: Paul Atreides, an adult in this imagine, is having visions of you that are interrupting his sleep.

warnings: mentions of sex, smut, masturbation, blowjob.

“Kneel.”

You fell to your knees by the voice. He undid the buckle to his pants to free his pink cock.

“Open your mouth.”

The voice flowed through and around you again. You did what it told you to.

Paul took his member in one hand and circled your lips with it. It looked soft against you, like a pillow being used.

His hands gripped at his sheets, the vision encapsulating his body into a writhing frenzy. Sweat dropped from his furrowed brows.

Through the lens of his dream, he watched himself press it onto your wet tongue. His head lolled and his eyelids fluttered as your hot breath hit it, your tongue wavering underneath as you watched him from below. He knew you were waiting for further instruction.

Paul’s vision then fragmented. You were walking through empty halls with a finger grazing the wall. You were smiling. You were watching him from afar, or maybe he was watching you. Was it yearning he saw in your eyes?

The spice he had been breathing must’ve been too much. Dreams and reality were starting to choke him with hope.

When he awoke, it was early morning and he was still tired. He avoided your eyes as he ate the first meal of the day. Part of him was embarrassed but most parts were afraid that seeing your face would cause a shift in his trousers. For lack of a better plan, he avoided looking at you at all. Still, even with his success, you haunted his mind throughout the simmering day.

When he fell into bed for the night, the metal figurines and books and lights couldn’t distract him either. It felt inappropriate but he knew he’d be in an even worse state if he didn’t take care of his frustration soon. At the pace of a secret, he tugged his waistband below his butt to expose the pale skin underneath. Though he was slow, his heart beat faster than ever.

When he closed his eyes, the visions were just as vivid as before. He imagined your mouth enveloping him again and his stomach rolled, the sensation making his dick twitch. He sighed and his chest deflated. He slid his hand over it and pulled the skin towards its aching head. Precum surfaced when he did.

He conjured up other memories that he’d kept for himself. Your nipples poking through your linen clothing as you leaned down to pour him more water. The outline of your body as you watched the weathered heat start to wane. Your eyes, moon-crescent and inviting when he made you smile.

He took the pad of his thumb and spread it. He began to time his soft thrusts. He felt your name swimming behind his lips.

Your fingers, mesmerizing when in action. Your neck, inviting his ecstasy to plant it’s mouth on.

He imagined you breathing his name into his ear as he said your name in yours.

“Paul.”

He shivered. He gripped tighter and began pumping himself faster.

He thought about slipping his hand under your garment, feeling the soft skin beneath. Pressing you into a wall, into his bed, into his skin. Biting at your neck, your chest, your waist. He thought about spreading your legs apart and grinding against you with so much force that you’d take your nails to his back.

His legs tightened and his abs flexed.

Thrusting into your wet warmth. Licking the moans out of your mouth as he pounded you to oblivion.

His body shook and his breathing quickened. Hues of red and pink climbed from his groin up to his chest now, Paul’s cheeks littered in blush.

He was close. So close.

“Kneel.”

He conducted you in his fantasies like he did in his dreams. His fingers followed the curve of your ears to the back of your head, guiding you to swallow him whole. Your throat clenched around his cock and he imagined what it would feel like to make you gag. Your eyes welling up while you bobbed. Would you swallow his seed too?

He let out a final moan as he felt the familiar waves of euphoria. His neck bent to watch his cum land on his stomach, the streaks of white puddling towards his belly button.

Paul let his head fall back into his pillow and let his lungs fill again. It would be a couple of minutes before the fog would leave his mind and his vitals would normalize.

Even though his frustration was relieved for now, he knew he’d dream of you still.

request a one shot/imagine