#i wish this was longer so pls forgive me for that : (

[mieiri]

one of the most beautiful things of love is that you can always find them in everything— and you can always see them no matter how long time goes by.

someone would guess you’d always recognize suguru by his ears: (he’s always embarrassed when you describe them as—) cute, elongated, and stylish even years after his teenage days.

it’s true, he keeps up. never missing a beat as to how to present himself as handsomely as can be. (and if he was ever considered a womanizer, that part of him has simply evaporated since the beginning of you. of us, he loves to say.)

or, some would assume it would be the way his nose scrunches together when he smiles deeply, eyebrows curving towards the other and eyes adorably creasing around the edges— in fact, you could swear you remember every single smile he’s given you since you first met.

that’s how memorable it is, that smile.

oh, what an angel. the sweetest treat.

but really, and truly, when years go by, and the youthfulness of man slowly becomes the maturity of the heart, that’s how you’ll remember him.

in your well-lived home, there will be no doubt left in your mind as to who could’ve possibly left this cup of tea at my bedside this morning? because it’s him.

there will be no question as to how did my favorite meal become a successful set of two on my dinner table? because without a doubt, it’ll always be him.

it didn’t take you long to realize:

no one else could have loved you just as much and just as well as he does— to have known which mug it is you love to sip out of and how long to seep the tea leaves, always teasing the childish amount of sugar-dipped teaspoons you love to indulge in.

because suguru loves you beyond words and the cheesiest expressions, (though please believe, he will never fail to spoil you with the random bursts of poeticism that pours out of his heart. unashamedly, in the deep of the night— against your forehead, against your cheeks, he will seal it all with a kiss.)

he loves you even more than just watching you take the first bite out of every meal he’s prepared— he considers this to be, single-handedly, the most tasteful bite he’ll ever get the chance to eat.

but it goes on, in a hundred different ways.

more, and more, and more. i love you more than that.

and it’ll always continue to linger within you, within the breach of your four walls, and into another life.

that’s how you’ll remember him.

beautiful, loving. you’ll remember him as everything.

[bad-euphoria]

THE TIMEWALK, EPISODE 1 | Can't Help Myself ↳ -`♡´- requested by @nineazaleas ! -`♡´-

[seungisms]

🖇️📁 𝐒𝐊𝐙 ... 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐗

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, do not interact if you’re under 18

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, phone sex, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), masturbation, overstimulation, edging, praise, body worship, dry humping, degradation 

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is absolute dog but i just can’t stop thinking about how hot chan and minho would sound like so please forgive 😭 reblog for a kiss, feedback is much appreciated!

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍

extremely vocal, especially when it comes to praise

constantly tells you how pretty you look when you’re taking his cock so well <3

generally very soft and sweet during sex

can get really messy with it when he’s about to cum though 

will sloppily groan into your cunt once your fingers tangle and tug on his hair, his own keeping your pretty folds spread open nice and stretched for him to fuck his tongue into - his other hand fisting around his dick and everything is just so filthy 

he’s letting out the most vile moans while kissing your pussy, cum and spit dripping from his chin and every sound he lets out against you drumming against your folds and just edging you further and further towards orgasm

sometimes he wishes you could see how cock dumb you look in these moments :(

will always remind you how well you’re doing for him no matter how rough he goes with you, especially once he catches sight of those cute tears welling up in your eyes 

let’s out a small tut and catches them on the pad of his thumb ever so softly, cock still fucking deep into and you almost wanna curse him out for being so soft with you while his dick is busy ruining your cunt

sometimes buries his head into your neck to muffle his own groans, wanting to hear how good he’s making you feel instead

his words come out extremely rushed and slurred when he’s about to cum

wants nothing more than to soak up your little whimpers and gasps and the cute little twitch in your face when you’re about to spill but he’s soso pussy drunk rn so don’t be surprised that he can’t stfu 

“doing so well for me sweetheart, just hold on a little longer.”

“god you’re so pretty, wanna fill you up so bad.” 

^ a personal fav of his!! he just loves how pretty you look when his cum is dripping past your folds and onto the sheets

the sight of his cum staining your skin really gets him going, you can’t change my mind

also loves the slight look of humiliation that takes over your face when you catch sight of it, crossing your legs in embarrassment but he’ll always be there remind you who you belong to :(

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎

extremely mean with his words

especially when you’re sucking on his cock so prettily, he can’t help but get a little carried away and spew absolute filth into your ears

will tangle his hand in your hair, fucking his hips forward to force himself further down your throat and will literally laugh straight in your face once he hears you gagging around him

“aw, is it too much for you baby? i know you can handle it, you’re practically begging for it.”

“c’mon sweetheart, i know you just can’t wait to be filled with my cum so take it.”

has such a bite to his words but you can’t even find it in yourself to be mad at him when he’s fucking your mouth so well and good

let’s out the deepest grunts when he feels himself at the back of your throat and will only urge you to take him even deeper

even when you claim you can’t

actually kinda thrives when you try to resist and dig your pretty nails into his thighs, the sting making him hiss out and he’ll have no problem pulling you off his cock just to hold your jaw open and make you swallow his spit   

cause ‘that’s the only thing little bitches like you deserve’ pls he’ll be so salty

gets r e a l l y loud when he’s about to cum 

grunts, groans, curses and tugs on your hair until there’s tears stinging your eyes 

sometimes when he’s feeling a tad nice he’ll feed you some praise 

but he’ll have to be soso pussy drunk to do so cause he really just loves to treat you like the slut you are

“take it like a good girl.”

the closet thing to praise you’ll get out of this man istg

likes having phone sex with you whenever he’s on tour cause he’s able to get you off with just his voice alone and he gets such a kick out of it

fists his cock once your whines hit his ear, coming out all strangled and choked as you fuck your finger sloppily past your folds - only half listening as he talks you through your orgasm 

“tell me how much you miss me and my cock baby, tell me how you wish i was there to stretch you out real good like you deserve.”

knows how much of an effect his voice has over you and just runs with it istg 

𝐒𝐄𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍

whiney

when’s he’s domming you he won’t be very vocal though 

maybe a tad demanding but that’s about it

literally just manhandles you and let’s out the occasional grunt against your flushed skin when his cock hits that spongy spot deep within your pussy - refusing to give into your begs and telling you to ‘take what he gives you’ 🤒

whenever he’s subbing you it’s a different story

he’ll be soso needy and it’ll show in his voice

can get really impatient when you tease him, rubbing your naked folds over the length of his hard cock just to push his buttons

and all he wants to do is force your hips down and finally take him until your pretty pussy is on the brink of being completely ruined

can be kinda bratty at the start, looking up at you with big eyes while his hands grab at your hips - silently begging you to finally sink down onto him and all he can do is pout once you continue to refuse 

“c’mon baby, haven’t i been good for you? think i deserve to feel you around me by now.” 

gets more desperate the longer you hold out 

“p-please, i need you so bad sweetheart. don’t y-you need me too?”

and you wanna give in so bad and finally feel his thick cock pounding into you but the sound of him stumbling over his words so cutely and his whines only getting louder with each passing second you continue to tease him only made it more fun 

the poor guy can’t take his eyes off your pussy so you eventually give in cause he’s just so pretty

throws his head back in the most <3 way

lips all bruised and loved on and the cutest whines breaking ripping past his throat as his hips fuck sloppily up into you, cock withdrawing fully only to fill you to hilt with every rut of his hips 

sometimes gets clumsy with it and misses your hole every now and again with how eager he is to finally cum 

and you just think he’s so adorable when he gets so embarrassed over it

tries maintain his whole ‘badboy’ reputation he has going for him but as soon as he gets the slightest bit of pussy withdrawals he’s turning into the whiniest mess ever :( 

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍

on the more silent side when he’s wrecking your cunt 

kinda just wants to soak up all your cute begs and little gasps so he’ll hold himself back a lot

and we all know how much this guy loves to hear himself talk so it’ll be a challenge for him 😔✊

loves playing with you so much and works you up until you’re all hazy eyed and on the brink of tears

swears it’s his fav look on you 

could practically eat up those little cries and sobs you let slip when he’s toying with your aching pussy, fingers rubbing at your swollen nub and cooing down at you so mockingly as you try to cover your glassy eyes from him

if you even try to quieten yourself down he’ll do anything to make you break

will be messily eating away at your sensitive cunt, humming lowly into your heat once your sweet taste hit his tongue

all disheveled hair and glaring eyes gazing up at your from between your thighs, savouring every stutter and twitch in your face

as soon as he sees your hand itching towards your face, clamping itself over your mouth to keep your pretty sighs hidden from his ears he’ll be so >:(

turd lowly after pulling away from you, the sight of your wetness covering his chin making you wanna hide away in embarrassment but his eyes were just daring you to make a move 

slaps your cunt and says shit like

“let me hear you pretty girl.”

such sweet words filled with so much nastiness that it had you squirming under his stare

can be really into degradation too, especially when he’s been edging you for hours on end 

just loves the frustrated furrow between your brows and the little pout that sits on top of those pretty lips of yours when you don’t get your way - knowing he’s not gonna give into you anytime soon

speaks to you so condescendingly that it makes you feel so small beneath him and you can’t even bite back 

not if you wanna get dicked down that is

will continue until you’re squirming and begging for his cock and just loves how far he can push your until you’re on your knees crying that you’ll be good for him

“can’t even act like you’re not desperate for my cock for five fucking minutes huh?”

𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆

he won’t stfu istg 😭🤚

very much a whiner

begs will be dripping from his lips the moment he gets a mere glance at your pretty pussy

looks like he saw *god* each and everytime pls

very impatient but gets you off so well despite that

his fingers will be knuckle deep inside of you, curling them against your walls as his lips left open-mouthed kisses against your heat - sucking on your clit and being you to the edge of orgasm soso well

humps the bed sometimes cause he wants to be inside of you so bad and he just can’t help himself from whimpering out against your cunt with every soft roll of his hips into the mattress, desperate for some type of release :(

will mutter shit against you and you so badly wanna tell him to stfu but he’s eating you out like a starved man, tongue tracing your cunt and fingers pumping into your so clumsily that you can’t even wrap your head around the thought of even forming words atm

“just wanna make you cum, wanna be good for you.”

“you look so pretty, can’t wait to feel you hugging my cock.” 

slurs his words a lot and literally can’t think straight when all he wants is to be buried deep inside you  

whines, whimpers, and cries against the skin of your neck when he finally sinks into you - burying his head deeper into your shoulder to muffle his moans but you swear it does nothing to quieten this boy down 

probably have the neighbours knocking on your door every morning complaining cause he’s so loud

he just can’t help it though :( you just always feel so good for him :( 

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗

big giver and very vocal

very much into body worship and praise so literally everything that leaves this guys lips will be the most endearing shit you’ve ever heard

and you don’t even know how to act when he’s like this cause it’s like,, bro,, that’s all well and cute but,, you’re currently balls deep inside of me???

and he’s just like :) i love u :) ur so pretty :)

“c’mon pretty girl, i know you can hold on for me. you’ve always been so good for me, you’re not gonna stop now huh?”

also extremely big into communication during sex

like he’ll literally be rearranging your guts and will just go

“are you okay baby? you sure it’s not too much for you? 🥺” with t h a t gaze and you just wanna melt right then and there 

almost makes you forget about the cock that was currently stretching you out so well and good

more of a groaner than anything

THE DEEPEST GRUNTS !! 

(sometimes whimpers when he’s about to cum but he’ll never admit to it)

extremely sensitive to even the slightest bit of touch will get this guy going

if you’re teasing him he’ll lose his goddamn mind

like you could be dragging your cunt against his cock, ignoring his begs for you to finally sink down onto him and he’ll be soso whiney about it with no shame 

poor boy just wants to get his dick wet :(

always mumbles sweet praises when you’re done and calls you his good girl 

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍

so fucking vile with it

just likes seeing those pretty eyes of yours welling up with tears :(

the overstimulation of his nipping words and the cock that was drilling mercilessly into your tight cunt making you sob out against him and he’s eating every single whimper and whine up

100% the type to laugh straight in your face when you beg him to slow down, only for your hips to rut up against him like a bitch in heat as soon as he does 

and you just so badly wanna punch him straight in his pretty face but you also wanna get dicked down so-

can get a little carried away sometimes though and doesn’t think before he speaks when his dick is fully seated inside your dripping heat

says shit like

“tell me why you deserve to cum and i’ll think about it.”

“aw, is my baby gonna cry? let me see those tears pretty girl.”

and you can’t even think about fighting back cause the way he’s twitching inside of you and kissing against your walls was all just too much

besides his mean words he’ll be mostly quiet with the occasional groan

mostly wants to hear how well he’s ruining you

as soon as your mouth is on him though he’s all over the place 

groans, curses, fucking w h i n e s

and he hates it sm

becomes a tad nicer when his dick is in your mouth cause he’d rather cum thank you very much

“fuck your mouth feels so good, keep taking me like a good girl.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍

gets extremely embarrassed during sex so he’ll hold himself back a lot

buries his face in your neck while fucking into you, muffling his moans against your warm skin

doesn’t really talk a lot except for the occasional

“so pretty for me baby, so good.”

and other shit you can’t make out cause he’s just mumbling all over the place and groaning between his words and just soso pussy drunk

just wants to hear how good he’s making you feel :(

definitely mumbles a lot and stumbles over his words the closer he is to spilling into you

furrows his brows and clenches his jaw real tight when he finally paints your plush walls in his cum, holding his grunts back and you so badly wanna tell him to relax but the way his cock was slowly softening inside of you and warming your insides with his thick cum dripping past your folds had you so cock drunk cock that you couldn’t even find it in yourself to do so

becomes so whiney when your cunt tightens around his dick, the overstimulation of having just came while you continued to milk him making him grip the sheets next to your head - whimpering into your neck and he’s soso humiliated but he can’t even find it in himself to care as begs continue to spill from his lips 

10/10 the prettiest whines ever

the type to thank you after you suck his dick <3

© 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐬 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[mirkoluvs]

★ JJK SMAU - DATING SUGURU GETO

notes: funfact sugurus my fav animanga character 🤭

→ gojo ver. !!

♥︎ liked by sugeto, thestrongest, shokoko, utahim3, and others…

y/nstivies: my starboy

tagged: sugeto

shokoko: BOOOOO I COULD TREAT YOU BETTER

↳ sugeto: why are you implying that i dont treat her well.

↳ shokoko: im not im implying that im better than you and she should break up with you and get with me.

↳ sugeto: wow.

↳ y/nstivies: that’s a tempting offer idk…

↳ sugeto: ???

thestrongest: me when i came up with this whole outfit

↳ sugeto: no you didn’t??????

↳ thestrongest: suguru pls don’t discredit me rn.

↳ sugeto: you LITERALLY told me i picked a good outfit before i walked out

↳ thestrongest: ok but like i mentally approved it so if i didn’t do that you would’ve changed and then you wouldn’t have that on so

↳ sugeto: i want to be happy so i’m ignoring you.

♥︎ liked by thestrongest, y/nstivies, kenton, haibabara, and others…

sugeto: you are my sea, you are my sunshine

tagged: y/nstivies

y/nstivites: WAVE TO EARTH????? SUGU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

↳ sugeto: i love you more baby 🖤

shokoko: cant even hate he did research for this one.

↳ sugeto: what can i say 😜

↳ shokoko: now i can hate on you using that stupid ass emoji

↳ y/nstivites: yeah that was a little…

↳ sugeto: can i live.

haibabara: THIS IS SO CUTE IM GONNA POST MY FUTURE GF LIKE THIS

↳ thestrongest: youre not getting a gf anytime soon lil bro

↳ sugeto: what is your problem

↳ thestrongest: bitter.

↳ thestrongest: i’m sorry haibara you will get gf soon!

↳ haibabara: THANKS!!!!

↳ kenton: i wish i was this happy

↳ sugeto: i can somehow hear him through the phone

♥︎ liked by utahim3, thestrongest, shokoko, sugeto, and others…

y/nstivites: when he knows how to do your hair better than you do 😍

tagged: sugeto

sugeto: hair stylists are lucky i decided to become a jujutsu sorcerer

↳ y/nstivites: they’d be unemployed 😞

utahim3: this is cute ig. like i guess it is like idk i guess.

↳ thestrongest: crazy level of hating

liked by sugeto

↳ utahim3: didnt you just tell haibara that he’d never get a gf cause you were jealous of these two.

↳ thestrongest: what happened to forgive and forget wtf…

↳ utahim3: YOU PISS ME OFF SO BADDDD

♥︎ liked by shokoko, sugeto, kenton, the strongest, and others…

y/nstivites: took a picture so itd last longer

tagged: sugeto

sugeto: dont need a picture when im here

↳ y/nstivites: 🙁🤍

↳ sugeto: 🖤

↳ thestrongest: this is disgusting

↳ shokoko: for once i agree

shokoko: had to burn my film camera after this one

shokoko: i need a cigarette

↳ y/nstivites: had to post this so they wouldn’t catch onto us yk you’re my #1 😙

↳ shokoko: omg ur so right

↳ sugeto: i don’t like this entire thread?????

↳ thestrongest: suguru i got you dont even worry

↳ sugeto: get away from me NOW.

↳ thestrongest: 🙁

thestrongest: u guys always have the corniest captions

↳ y/nstivites: ok then wtf do you want me to make it.

↳ thestrongest: idk something like we went to tinkle together after this

↳ y/nstivites: WHAT

↳ sugeto: EXCUSE ME?????

↳ thestrongest: oh ok so now i’m the weird one.

↳ kenton: you’re just now figuring this out?

© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 2- Awakening

Summary: There was once a time in his life where knocking on your front door was the best part of Frankie's day. Now, the thought of having to ring your doorbell to face you makes him sick to his stomach.

Word Count: 4.1K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (no use of y/n, reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: (the tiniest hint of) smut (18+), illusions to masturbation (m), angst/regret, fluff, awkward adolescent yearning (I have quickly come to learn this is my favorite thing to write whoops), Frankie realizing he's caught a case of the ✨feelings ✨ and doesn't know what to do

A/N: Less than 10K word chapters?!? Posting a series on a schedule?!?! I don't even know who I am anymore?!?! AH, thank you guys for all your sweet words about this series so far. Writing this has sparked such a joy inside me, and it means so much that y'all are willing to read my silly lil story 🥺💛 This chapter is from Frankie's POV- I know the first chapter had both reader and Frankie, but as I've been writing, it seems like it fits the story better if some are both POV's and some are just one!

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Frankie, Present 

“Bring these next door.” 

His mother doesn’t even ponder the idea of phrasing it as a question when she practically drops the plate of chocolate chip cookies into Frankie’s lap. 

“Ma, it’s 7:30 in the morning.” Frankie looks up at her dumbfounded. 

“And? You’ve never eaten a cookie for breakfast when you’re sad? Go now, they’re still warm.” 

There’s no way he’ll be able to head anywhere but straight out his front door, but Christ, he at least hoped he would have been able to buy himself a little time before having to face you.

“I just got back from a run. I smell like shit. Can I at least shower first, por favor?” 

“Fine,” she groans, reluctant to give in so easily, “but be quick. Don’t think I won’t turn the hot water off, mijo. I don’t want these getting cold.”

She knows her son would take an hour long shower if he could. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’s spent way too long in the bathroom, over analyzing every inch of himself before going to see you. His mom isn’t sure if she should thank you or not for her son’s dedication to hygiene. She could barely get him to shower for the first 10 years of his life, but after you moved in, a few days before the start of 6th grade, bathing had magically no longer become an issue. 

Frankie understands her threat of an ice cold shower is very real, and a very effective way to finally get him four doors down. He lets the hot water wash over his skin, turning it to a temperature that’s almost too painful to stand. He hopes that somehow, it’s hot enough to wash away all the sins he’s prayed you’d forgive him for, that the regret of every poor decision he’s been plagued by washes down the drain, disappearing never to be seen again. 

He wishes it was that easy. That a simple shower would grant him the forgiveness he’s not sure you’ll ever give him. He wouldn’t blame you if you never did. 

He forces himself to put on the first pair of shorts and t-shirt that he pulls out of his suitcase. If he doesn’t, he’ll be stuck in his room for the rest of the day trying to figure out what to wear to bring a plate of cookies to your doorstep. 

“You should apologize, you know.” It’s the first thing his mom has to say to him as he makes his way down the stairs, barely three steps into the kitchen before she’s at his throat again. 

“For bringing them dessert at 7:30 in the morning? I was planning on it.” Frankie huffs, trying to deflect the plan for the real apology he knows he should be making. 

“Dios mio, Francisco, you know what I mean. I hope you’ve thought about how you’re going to explain yourself to her. You owe that girl an apology for the hell you’ve put her through.” 

Frankie can’t blame his mother for the way she’s twisting the knife that’s stuck in his gut. He’s the one who put it there in the first place. 

“I know. I’ve thought about it, believe me.” 

They both know that’s the truth. Frankie’s spent more hours than he can count thinking about what possible combination of words he can string together that won’t make you hate him anymore than you already do. In fact, he’s spent so long thinking about it, replaying the million and one things he could say to you over and over in his head, that he’s convinced there’s nothing he could tell you that would buy him even a shred of forgiveness. 

“Fuck you, Mackenzie. Fuck you for ruining my life. It’ll be better off without you fucking in it.” 

Three years ago, he disappeared out of your life and those were the last words he left you with. He's spent three years of letting the last thing he had to say you haunt him like some sort of ugly ghost he can't forget.

At this point, there's a part of him that's not even sure he's worthy of forgiveness.

“Mom?” Frankie asks, eyes peeled to the ground, trying to keep his voice from breaking, “Am I making a huge fucking mistake coming back here?” 

“Well mijo,” She pauses, gently cradling her son’s face, lifting his chin enough to let his tired, worn eyes meet hers, “That, I cannot tell you. Some things you have to figure out on your own. I think this is one of them. But what I can tell you,” she stops again, ensuring Frankie is listening, really listening to what she has to say, “is that you have never been one to leave things unfinished. I think there are still things left to finish here for you, Francisco.”  

The slow nod of his head in her palm tells her he’s heard every word. He knows he needs to finish what he’s started. 

“You also need to finish bringing these cookies to the Andersons, sí? Don’t think I forgot.”   

“Didn’t think you would.” 

Frankie’s not sure the walk to your house has ever felt this long. Every step against the pavement makes his feet feel heavier, weighing his body down, its final attempt at keeping him from showing up at your front door. It takes every ounce of strength he has left to get him there, but he does. He won’t himself fail you again. He can’t. 

When he knocks on your door, he’s suddenly 11 years old, palms sweating and heart racing as he rings your doorbell for the first time, hoping the cool girl who moved in down the street still wants to play football with him. 

Right now, he’d give anything to be that 11 year old boy again. God, what he’d give to grab little him by the shoulders and shake all of the stupid decisions he plans on making in the years to come right out of him. He’d give anything for someone to come shake the stupid out of him now.

Seconds pass like hours as he waits for someone to answer his knock. Maybe it won’t be you who does. Maybe he’ll get lucky and it'll be your mom. Maybe your dad, who is sitting on his literal deathbed, will be blessed with some divine miracle that grants him the strength to get up and answer the door instead of you. 

“Be right there!” 

He’d recognize your voice anywhere. It’s been three years since he’s heard it. Even with all the time that’s passed, there’s not a doubt in his mind he knows it’s yours. 

Fuck, he’s missed the sound of you more than he’d ever like to admit.  

He braces himself as the lock clicks on the other side of the door. The knot in his stomach tightens as he watches it open. 

His heart wants to burst out of his chest when you finally appear on the other side. 

“F-Frankie?” 

“Hi, Mackenzie.” 

Frankie, Fall of 2002, Age 14

It’s been 3 years, and Frankie still rings your doorbell every time he’s at your front door. Both you and your parents have been more than adamant he’s welcome to let himself in, at this point, they leave the door unlocked just for him. 

As much as he wants to just slip through the front door unannounced to see you, he knows his mom would kill him if he didn’t wait to be let in and make his presence known. 

“Francisco, I do not care how often you are over there, you are a guest in their home. If they are gracious enough to let you over, the least you can do is use your manners and greet them at the door.” 

Frankie’s always been polite, but the world would stop spinning before his mother would let anyone else even have an inkling of thinking otherwise. 

Truth be told, he doesn’t mind. He’d be hard pressed to find any 14 year old who didn’t have some sort of complaint about their parents, but you never really do, and he can see why. 

They’re your parents, and he loves his mamá more than life, but the Anderson’s had taken Frankie under their wing from the moment he had crossed the threshold from their patio to their living room and never looked back. 

It didn’t take long for the three toned chime of your doorbell to become the favorite part of his daily routine. 

“Hi Frankie! Come on in, honey.” 

Mrs. Anderson has that soft kind of sweetness that would make anyone’s day brighter, the kind of gentleness that a gardener has when tending to a field of their favorite flowers. She’s the type of person that would put anyone before herself, to a fault. It’s no wonder that given the circumstances, a house that should be shrouded in sadness is one of the places that Frankie feels the happiest. 

“Thanks Mrs. Anderson. Can I put this in the freezer for Kenz? I figured she may want it when she gets home later.” Frankie gestures down to the chocolate chip cookie dough Blizzard he’s holding, trying to keep it from melting any further. 

It’s become a sacred ritual that every Friday night, you and him ride your bikes to the Dairy Queen two miles down the road. He always gets an Oreo Blizzard, you, a chocolate chip cookie dough one. On the few Friday nights you can’t spend together, it’s an unspoken agreement that a Blizzard will still end up in the other’s freezer for the next day. It’s only happened once that a cookie dough Blizzard hasn’t been found in your residence within 24 hours of the start to your weekend- the one time Frankie was out of town to visit his family, you were pleasantly surprised to find not one, but two Blizzards in your freezer on Monday night upon his return. 

 “Frank the Tank! How’s it going, buddy?” 

It’s always nice to see your dad up and around the house. His cancer has taken a lot of things from him, but his personality certainly isn’t one of them. Some bouts of chemo and treatment are worse than others, but it never ceases to keep Mr. Anderson from being the happiest man Frankie’s ever met. You always tease Frankie that he comes over to your house so often just so he can spend time with your dad. While of course it’s not 100% true that Doug Anderson is the only reason Frankie finds himself at your doorstep nearly every day, he also won’t deny the sense of comfort it brings him that your dad treats him like his own son. 

“Hi Mr. Anderson!” Frankie smiles, shoving your Blizzard in the top left corner of your freezer between the ice packs and frozen vegetables. 

“Another Blizzard for me? Always so generous, Frank. I’m convinced you might start running a Dairy Queen out of our kitchen pretty soon.” Mr. Anderson teases, giving Frankie a light punch to the shoulder. “How’d your algebra test go the other day, bud?” 

“Pretty good, I think.” Frankie shrugs, trying to play off his confidence. 

“Think you got a higher score than Kenzie?” 

“I think so. But don’t tell her that.” 

“Oh believe me, I will. Smart kid like you has gotta put her in her place every once and a while.” 

Frankie blushes. School has never been his strong suit. He’s smart in the way he could fix just about anything from the time he could barely walk, but sitting in a classroom trying to absorb information through reading, taking notes and test taking has always made him feel like an idiot. You, on the other hand, could graduate in your sleep with straight A’s. He’s not sure how you do it, but it’s enough motivation to make him want to at least try. He thanks his lucky stars that this year, math is finally starting to make sense, and he’s got the upper hand on you for now. 

“Is Kenz upstairs? I know she’s got her soccer banquet tonight, I just wanted to hang out for a little before she has to go.” 

Normally he wouldn’t mind staying longer to talk to your dad, but on days he knows he’s working on a limited time table, efficiency is of the essence. 

“Should be. If not, we have a problem on our hands.” 

Frankie scurries from the kitchen and through the living room, up the familiar and well traveled path to your bedroom door. His heart always races a little faster every time he reaches the top step to the second floor. 

Normally, it’s three long strides to cross the threshold into your bedroom before he plops himself on the edge of your bed, but as he takes a left turn at the top of the stairwell, he’s surprised to find your bedroom door is closed, and locked. 

“Kenz! It’s me! Open up!” Frankie raps his fist on the back of your door, knuckles thumping against the wood. 

“Not now, Frankie!” 

He’s taken aback by your protest, scrunching his brow at your response and the distress in your voice through the other end of the door. 

“What? Why? What’s wrong?” He asks, now a little more concerned. 

“It’s just- Ugh! It’s nothing! It’s stupid, okay! I just don’t have time for this right now!” 

You and him both know that’s not enough to get him to leave. Frankie is persistent. He’s not going anywhere until you open that door and he gets an answer as to what’s making you so upset. 

“C’mon, MacKenzie.” 

He only pulls the full name card for serious occasions, because he knows it’ll work. It’ll work every time. That’s why he can’t help but smirk at the click of your door handle unlocking, giving him permission to step inside. 

Except he can’t. 

“Kenz, get off the door and let me in!” 

“I’m not on the door! Ugh, hold on.” 

With the force Frankie was using, he nearly falls flat on his face as the barricade you’d built on your side of the door is removed, stumbling into your room and landing face first in a pile of clothes. As he looks up, he’s greeted with a sight he’s never once seen before in your room, and he has no idea what to make of it. 

“Jesus Christ, dude, what happened in here?!” 

To say a bomb had exploded in your closet would have been a polite way to put it. Every piece of clothing you owned was now a casualty on your bedroom floor, down to every last pair of shoes. You could barely stand to have a singular, stray sock on the ground, your bedroom always the near picture perfect scene of immaculately neat. So to see the disaster your room had become, Frankie knew that something had gone very, very wrong. 

“I don’t have anything to wear for tonight!” 

“Yeah you do, have you seen all the clothes on your floor? I think you have enough clothes for a small village.” 

“Francisco!” 

If she’s already pulling the full name card on him too, it must be serious. 

“Sorry! Is this because of the end of the season soccer party tonight? I thought you said you were just gonna wear like, a skirt or something?” 

Frankie’s never even contemplated the idea of you being upset over an outfit. You’d always been amicable in the wardrobe department- t-shirt, shorts, sneakers, same has him. This is uncharted territory for the both of you. 

“Yeah, but then at lunch today Katie and Morgan said all of the Seniors want to dress up, like, really nice, and now I’m freaking out because I don’t know what to wear and I don’t wanna look like an idiot Freshman who shows up in something dumb.” 

Frankie knows you’re stressed from how intensely you’re picking at the skin around your nails, leg bouncing furiously while your eyes dart around the room at the heaps of clothes stacked around the floor. 

“You’re not gonna look dumb, Kenzie. You’re the only Freshman that’s made the Varsity soccer team in like, a million years. Hard to look stupid if you’re that good.” 

It may not be much help, but it’s at least enough to bring you off the brink of tears. 

“I guess,” you pause, too stubborn to admit that he’s right, “It’s just- all the other girls on the team are so pretty. When we’re playing it doesn’t matter ‘cause we’re all sweaty and gross, but- I don’t know, I feel like I’m gonna look so awkward next to everyone.” 

But you are pretty. 

It’s the first thought that pops into Frankie’s brain. He’s not sure how it got there so fast. All of a sudden he feels a hundred degrees hotter, hoping you won’t notice the way he visibly tries to shake the thought out of his head.. 

Where did that come from? She’s your friend, Frankie. Your best friend. She’s not pretty, she’s just MacKenzie. 

“You won’t look awkward, you’re gonna be fine. I promise.” He’s relieved his response doesn’t seem to raise any suspicions, like you would have been able to read his mind and watch his thinking play out in real time. 

“If I um- If I- Never mind, this is stupid! Ugh, this is stupid.” 

You’re pacing now, arms crossed so tightly over your chest, he’s worried you’re going to squeeze your own eyes out like one of those little squishy toys you win from a claw machine. That’s if you don’t burn a hole in your carpet first. 

“What?” 

“If I-” You stammer again, scrunching your face at your own frustration, “If I try on what I think I should wear, will you tell me if it looks dumb or not?” 

You’ve asked Frankie plenty for plenty of favors in the three years you’ve known him- being the one to lead the two of you home on a bike ride in the dark, opening your pudding for you at lunch because it exploded on you once and you’re terrified it will again, catching the giant spider that makes a recurrence in the top right corner of your bedroom and throwing it out the window- He’s not sure why out of all those things, this is the most terrifying favor you’d ever asked of him. 

“Y-yeah. Okay.” 

The two of you quietly nod at each other for a moment, Frankie hoping that he’s not the only one who’s wondering why the air has all of a sudden seemed to have gotten thicker. 

“Okay. Well, um- turn around.” You point for him to take his usual spot on the edge of the bed, ensuring that his back’s to you and eyes only have the choice to roam the floor or the wall above your desk before he hears the shuffling of clothes behind him. 

It’s then that everything starts to move in slow motion, like a flip has suddenly switched in Frankie’s brain as a wave of unsolicited thoughts begin to flood his head, feeling himself drown in the panic and confusion that’s washing over him. 

What if he did turn around? You’re probably taking off your clothes right now. Are you in just your underwear? What color is it? Maybe you’re all the way naked. What would you look like? Why does he all of a sudden want to know so bad? What’s wrong with him? 

In his manic state, his eyes are darting everywhere, trying to find something to lock onto that will shake him from whatever obscene cycle of thought he’s caught himself in. He instantly regrets when he lets his gaze fall to his feet, because peeking out of the pile of clothes beneath him is the better part of a bra. 

Your bra. 

He feels so awful that he can’t stop looking at it. So guilty that he can’t help the fact he’s trying to commit every detail of it to his brain- the teal and green polka dots, the thin lace that covers the shoulder strap, the little bow that sits in between the two cups where your breasts would go. He can’t stop staring. He can’t stop thinking about  what you would look like in it. The only thing that stops him is hearing your voice from over his shoulder. And somehow, your voice only makes his chest feel tighter. 

“You promise you won’t make fun of me if I look stupid?” Your words are so soft, delicate and fragile in a way he’s never heard you use them before. However scared you are, right now, Frankie would be willing to take that feeling and triple it for himself. 

“Promise.” 

His eyes are still closed when he swings his legs over the other edge of the bed. He’s too afraid to open them. 

“You’re gonna have to open your eyes, unless you’ve suddenly obtained x-ray vision that you haven’t told me about in the last thirty seconds.” 

The way you tease him grounds him enough to give in. It doesn’t ground him enough from leaving him speechless the moment he opens his eyes. 

“Kenz… You uh, you- um-” 

He’s stumbling over his words, trying to find them fast enough to stop the disappointment that’s flooding over your face because you think he hates the way you look. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

“I look dumb, don’t I? It’s fine, Frankie, you can just say it.” You’re back to pacing again, storming around your room with a desperate, crazed look in your eye. “Ugh! This sucks! Why is this so hard, I just wanna-” 

“You look really pretty.” 

It stops you dead in your tracks. He can almost hear how hard you gulp, looking back at him like a deer in headlights. 

“W-what?” 

You ask it like you didn’t hear exactly what he said. He knows you did. You always do. It doesn’t stop him from trying to twist his words to help him out of the hole he’s already dug himself into. 

“Your- Your dress. It looks really nice. You should wear it.” 

He’s not sure how much time passes as the two of you finally lock eyes. Thirty seconds? Ten minutes? An hour? The way you’re looking at him right now is enough to make his world stop turning. It only makes it worse that he swears he can see your lips trying to fight the smile that’s slowly curling in the corner of your mouth. 

“MacKenzie! We need to go, sweetie! Dad and I will meet you in the car!” 

Frankie doesn’t know if it’s divine intervention or a devilish curse that your mom is calling for you from the bottom of the stairs. Whatever it is, it’s enough to snap both of you out of the strange spell that had overcome your bedroom and make Frankie feel like the only appropriate response was to race out of your house and hide in embarrassment for the next forty-eight hours. 

“I should um- I should go, too. Santi’s probably waiting for me at his house. Have fun tonight, okay?” 

“Yeah, o-okay. You have fun, too. Tell Ding Dong I say hi. See you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” 

Frankie’s in a trance the rest of the night. Physically, he spends the next few hours in Santi’s basement, glued to the couch while his friend yells at him that he’s not using the right combination of moves to max out his points in Tony Hawk Pro Skater 3. Mentally, he’s convinced he no longer exists on the same planet as anyone else around him.

When he gets home, all he can do is stare at his ceiling. If he closes his eyes to try to fall asleep, the only thing he can see is that teal and green bra laying on your bedroom floor.

He wishes the thought of you in it didn’t make his stomach churn. He wishes it wasn’t you he was picturing when he lets his hand creep below the waistband of his sweatpants. He wishes it wasn’t your name he was muttering under his breath as he makes a mess in hand, hips stuttering into his grasp. 

He wishes it wasn’t you. 

At least that’s what he tells himself. Maybe one day, it’ll work. 

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

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[rinslutz]

Can i order uuuhhh a dose of second chance romance with satoru? You broke up with him because his ass cheated but now that you guys are starting over, you can't help but still doubt his efforts. (having massive trust issues) but he of course promised to do whatever it takes to gain your trust again. Lots of reassurance pls. We love a devoted Satoru ☹️🤞

ᥫ᭡ “AFRAID” — GOJO SATORU

ㅤꞋꞌꞋꞌ fem!reader, hurt/comfort, exes to lovers, mentions of cheating, gojo pleads on his knees, gojo is pathetic, reassuances

a/n: anon…you awoken something in me. this is much longer than i wanted it to be and its a bit more than you asked for, sorry.

2 weeks 4 days 15 hours 56 minutes 12 seconds. that’s how long it’s been since satoru last saw you. he wishes he hasn’t been keeping track of the time but it’s the only thing keeping him from succumbing to his sadness. he hates himself for being sad. he doesn’t deserve to feel sad. all of this is his fault.

satoru has been wallowing in his self pity for the past 2 weeks. if he didn’t have a class to teach, he’s sure he would never move from his bed. school and home. those are the only two places you’ll find satoru. so when suguru notices that he hasn’t seen his loser best friend in 2 weeks he “kidnaps” him as satoru claims.

“have you even tried talking to her?” suguru asks nonchalantly. satoru’s nose crinkles in annoyance. why would he ask such a stupid question?

“she doesn’t want to speak to me.” satoru says dryly. this conversation is already starting to frustrate him. he runs his hands down his face.

“did you try though?” satoru is convinced that suguru’s only goal right now is to annoy him. if he wanted to talk about his failing relationship with him, he would’ve called him weeks ago.

satoru sighs obnoxiously, “of course i haven’t. she probably doesn’t want me within 10 feet of her. she hates me.” saying that aloud for the first time makes his eyes burn with tears. he rubs them furiously, not wanting to cry in front of suguru.

“so,” suguru pauses to chew the chips he’s been snacking on the whole time. “you mean to tell me you cheated on your girl, she kicked your ass out, and you’re not begging on your knees for forgiveness right now?” suguru’s statement and the crinkling of his bag of chips send satoru’s annoyance into overdrive. he snatches the bag from suguru’s hands, balls it up, and throws it into a nearby trash can.

“hey, don’t get pissy with me because i’m right.” suguru holds his hands up in defense.

satoru doesn’t reply. he is right though. satoru has convinced himself that he should try to speak to you because you wouldn’t want to hear it anyway. in reality, he’s afraid. afraid to face you. afraid to get confirmation that he has lost you forever. but if there’s even a slight chance that begging on his knees would work, he would do it immediately.

you hate him. you hate how even after what he did every part of him, every memory you made with him, every time he told you he loves you, still occupies your brain. the stupid smile still pops into your brain when you’re having a particularly bad day. you wish with some much in you that picturing his smile didn’t immediately make you feel better. it was that smile though. the smile that’s only reserved for you.

you wish you hated him for cheating on him. you’re just hurt. your chest hurts every day. every morning you wake up with sore red eyes from crying yourself to sleep. you hope he’s been crying himself to sleep too, though you doubt it. as desperate as satoru usually acts you expected him to try and contact you. at least once. you got nothing and somehow that hurt more than his infidelity.

the quiet night you’re having is interrupted by the loud and persistent knock at your door. you have no idea who it could be at this hour, so you don’t move immediately. maybe it’s a neighbor wanting to borrow something. if you don’t move maybe they’ll think you’re not here.

“baby?”

your head snaps to the door in surprise. almost immediately, tears spring to your eyes. it hurts hearing his voice for the first time in 2 weeks. you don’t move. you want to open the door but you know you shouldn’t.

“please…can we talk?” it's rare to hear him speak this softly. satoru’s loud knocks begin to soften. you reluctantly get up from your spot on the couch to open the door. you open the door but not all the way, only enough to see his face.

he stands there with red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. he stands there awkwardly. not sure what to do with his arms, they lay flat at his sides.

“can i come in?”

“leave.” you choke out. you refuse to cry in front of him.

“i can’t.” he steps closer to you. “i need to talk to you. i…i need you.”

you wish you didn’t say that. you wish he didn’t sound so broken when he said it. and because you’re weak for him you let him in. even though you let him in you don’t let him more than 3 feet inside.

you two just stare at each other for moments. his eyes rake over you, taking in every part of you. it felt like an eternity since he’s seen you, he had begun to convince himself that he forgot what you looked like. a stupid thought since he often stared at the small picture of you he kept in his wallet.

“i’m sorry.”

you laugh at that and satoru feels like everything is already falling apart. he’s already messed up. your bitter laugh makes the tip of his ears redden and burn in embarrassment.

“you’re sorry? that’s what you came here to say?”

he wants to tell you that it’s not true, but he didn’t come here to say sorry. he is sorry whether you believe him or not.

“you fucked someone else but you’re sorry so it’s okay right?” your voice is harsh and bitter. and if it weren’t for the tears streaming down your face he would assume you’re just angry. you’re hurt instead and he’s the reason why.

“no that’s not what i’m trying to say.” he shakes his head softly, “it’s not okay. i did the one thing you told me you could never forgive me for.”

if you didn’t love him you would laugh again. if you didn’t love him you would kick him out right now. but if you didn’t love him you would feel empty right and somehow that’s much worse.

“i am sorry. i wish i could explain why i did it-”

“cheated. you cheated. instead of saying “it” say the word gojo.”

he swallows that lump forming in his throat. the way you said his name burned his ears. the bitter tone and the fact that it was his last name.

“i cheated and i regret it so fucking much.”

unconsciously he reaches to grab your hand. when you don’t pull away, he grips your hand tighter. if this is the last time he ever gets to touch you, any part of you, he wants to remember the way your soft skin feels against his. he wants to memorize the way your hand fits perfectly in his and the way your hand warms his cold fingertips.

“i love you so much and i need you. i know you don’t need me but i don’t know what i’m doing. i-i can’t think straight, i can barely breathe when i’m not near you.” he has to swallow again to keep from crying.

“i hate you.”

“i know. i hate me too.”

when you don’t say anything satoru thinks he’s making progress. your eyes don’t hold the anger that they once did. then you pull your hand from his and satoru swears the earth shakes. he pulls his hand back to his side. he clenches his fists, his fingernails pierce his skin. he hopes the pain will distract him from the pain of his heart being ripped out of his chest.

“please,” he says weakly.

you don’t want to give in. he’s done nothing to deserve your forgiveness. you hate yourself for wanting to pull him against you to wipe away his tears. you hate yourself for wanting to forgive. you hate him for sounding so sincere.

“how can i ever trust you again?” satoru doesn’t know how to answer that. you shouldn’t trust him again. satoru is confident that he’d never betray your trust again because the pain of being apart from you like this again very well might kill him. and he’d rather died than hurt you again.

he knows that there’s so way for you to be certain that he won’t hurt you again. you can’t see into his brain or his heart. you can’t see the way his soul yearns to intertwine with yours again, forever.

before he can answer suguru’s stupid voice fills his head. “you mean to tell me. you cheated on your girl, she kicked your ass out, and you’re not begging on your knees for forgiveness right now?” he knows he deserves to beg on his knees. you deserve to have him pathetically beg for your forgiveness.

so, without another word, he bends down on his knees. he grabs both of your hands in his and looks up at you. his heart beats heavily in his chest.

“i will never hurt you again. i promise. i will do anything you want me to in order to prove it to you.” his knees were already beginning to hurt. this pain is nothing compared to the pain he’ll feel if you never forgive him.

“you don’t have to forgive me. you shouldn’t. i’m just asking for a chance to prove myself to you.” he grips your hands tighter, afraid you’ll pull away again.

you’re sure you're making the dumbest decision of your life. you’re weak for him and you may always be. when you left him the night you found out he cheated, you left with your heart still in his hands. tonight, you’ll let him keep it for a little while longer.

“one chance. you fuck up even a little-” before you’re able to finish your sentence, your lips are pressed against him. one of his presses against the back of your head, keeping you pressed against him. the familiar warmth of his lips against yours makes you melt against him. you slowly and reluctantly wrap your arms around his waist.

a small sob slips from his lips, making you jump slightly. tears fall from his eyes again, wetting both of your cheeks. his arms grip you tighter, almost as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

“thank you,” he whispers against your lips

he’s late. for anyone in a normal relationship, this wouldn’t be that bothersome. unfortunately for you, you don’t completely trust your boyfriend. not a hundred percent.

it’s eleven pm and he was meant to be home an hour ago. you tried reasoning with yourself. maybe he is stuck fighting a curse? maybe the higher-ups forced him into doing something? you tried thinking of anything besides the one thing that’s nagging at your brain.

he promised and you believed him. you’re starting to think you’re an idiot for trusting him, trusting that he’d stay loyal. how could you have been so dumb?

you’re staying at his apartment tonight, per his request. he promised that he’d be home in time to catch the new episode of your shared favorite show. he broke that promise so what other promises will he break tonight?

you hear the sound of a key entering the door and seconds later it opens. satoru walks in quietly. there’s a certain look on his face that you cant read. you assume the worst. before you can think critically you shoot up from your spot on the couch and storm over to him.

“how was it?” your voice is bitter and you hate the way it cracks at the end. you hate the way your eyes are already beginning to burn.

satoru look at you, confused. he’s not sure what you mean or why you’re angry. he’s tired and he’s not sure he can deal with this right now. the events of today and the fact that he needed to stay at work later than usual is taking a toll on his body.

“baby, what are you talking about?” he reaches for you and you back away from him. for a second he feels the memories of that day flood his mind. the familiar way you back away from him, the familiar look in your eyes. you can’t possibly think that right now.

“no. hey, don’t let your mind go to that.” he successfully grabs your hand in his and pulls it to his lips. immediately you feel the harsh beating in your chest slow down.

“did you cheat on me?” you ask. you just want an answer now. you need to know if you’ll be leaving tonight or falling asleep in his arms as usual.

“no. i promised you. do you want me to get on my knees for you again?” the look in his eyes is unwavering. when you don’t answer he falls to his knees in front of you.

“a curse attacked a town and killed hundreds of people. it was pretty powerful and it took me longer than usual. that’s where i was. i promise.” he stares into your eyes. there is no hint of a lie to be found.

“i know it’s going to take you a while to trust me again. i will get on my knees every day and promise not to hurt if that’s what it will take.”

you feel like a fool even though you shouldn’t. he understands that you don’t trust him completely and he’s working toward that. you’re embarrassed even though he’s the one on his knees right now. you nudge his hand and motion for him to get up.

“i’m sorry-”

“no. you have nothing to be sorry for.” once he stands he grabs your face in both of his hands. one of his thumbs brushes against you bottom lip. his eyes are soft as he looks at you.

“i promise.” he doesn’t need to say what he promises. you know what he means. he pulls your face towards his and places a sloppy kiss against your lips.

“i love you.” you don’t reply but he knows you love him too.

©rinslutz

[bokutoko]

Helloo! I saw your request open so I thought to myself let's ask something bout shoyoo!! I want to see how shoyo looks like in ur cute writing hehe, So may I ask for hinata shoyo with anything domestic related? I would love to live in a world where he's my husband. SORRY FOR THEBLONG ASK I hope you're alright with it, have a great day!

late nights

character: shoyo hinata

word count: 707

warning(s): soft husband!hinata, might be slightly ooc but idc, fluff

content: hinata’s new training schedule makes for long days, and you, as his biggest fan, try to wait up for him. does it work? (it doesn’t.)

a/n: MY SWEET ANON!!! i’m so sorry i’m answering this so late—writer’s block was eating me alive pls forgive me. in return, here’s some sweet shoyo <3

Everyone knew Hinata Shoyo was a hard worker—he put blood, sweat, and tears into his sport, gave 100% effort into everything he did. So when he was chosen to represent the Japan Men’s National Volleyball Team in the Olympics, he knew he had to start giving 120% daily. Even earlier mornings, later nights, longer practice days—he took it all in strides, just honored to be afforded this monumental opportunity as a pro-player.

His muscles ached from practice, his hair still damp from the quick locker-room shower. It began curling slightly at the ends as occasional droplets of water fell onto his shirt. A tired sigh left his lips as he opened the door to his humble little one-bedroom apartment.

He quietly entered and slipped off his shoes, the only noise in the apartment being the ticking of the clock. Though in his peripheral, he noticed a light on in the main room—were you still awake??

Entering the living room, the TV had Netflix’s “Are you still watching?” on the screen, and a bowl of what used to be popcorn—only a couple kernels left—sat on the table. He rounded the corner to find you lying on the couch, sleeping soundly, despite the bright TV casting a glow on your face.

Taking in the sight of you, he suddenly felt his cheeks grow hot. You were sporting one of his MSBY shirts—even now, he always reverted into a goofy, lovesick boy at the smallest actions and in the most innocent moments. A simple little kiss? His cheeks are scarlet. You whispering a soft I love you every night before bed? The tips of his ears burn. Just looking at him with a small smile and hearts in your eyes? With a stutter, he’d turn so red that you wouldn’t help but laugh.

By the state of your uncomfortable position on the couch, it was obvious you tried to stay awake to see his return, and his heart ached at the thought. He wished he could stay with you every day and never leave the comfort of your arms.

But of course, you understood the importance of this new adventure—you’d never want to get in way of his dreams. You knew just how hard your husband worked for this very moment, and here it was, staring him in the face and holding out a welcoming hand.

Hinata knelt down, his face level with yours as he studied your sleeping face. Your mouth was slightly parted, causing you to have the softest snore that he found so adorable. Your face was slightly smushed in one of the throw pillows that you picked out. He couldn’t help but smile as he reached a gentle hand to your face, gently tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Wakey wakey,” he whispered as he intertwined his fingers with yours and lightly squeezed your hand. Your eyes barely cracked open, and you let out a soft whine from the awkward position now leaving a crick in your back.

After blinking a couple times and making out some striking orange hair, you mumbled out a soft, “Sho?”

He smiled, his eyes soft with love. “Hey there, sunshine. C’mere,” he scooped you up and carried you like you were weightless, “let’s get you to bed.” You nuzzled into his neck, smelling the subtle citrus scent of his body wash. In the mere seconds it took to walk from the couch to your shared bed, Hinata figured you slipped back into dreamland again. While tucking you into bed, his voice was low and soothing as he whispered how he missed you, how he loved you.

Slipping between the bedsheets, his eyes caught your sleepy gaze. Turns out, you were awake. “I’m sorry I’m home so late,” he whispered, his fingers carding through your hair, “Go on back to sleep, pretty girl. I love you.”

With the moonlight slipping through the curtains, Hinata saw your cheek meet his wrist as you leaned into his touch. You hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his skin and mumbling, “Just glad you’re here now. I love you.”

And with that last declaration of unconditional love, Hinata fell asleep knowing he could do absolutely anything, so long as he had you by his side.

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please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2024.

[sinsofsummers]

cool about it

3.4k | boston!joel miller x f!reader

summary: it’s that day again. you don’t know why joel’s so withdrawn, but you help him manage it in the best way you know how. based on 'cool about it' by boygenius. warnings: angst angst angst, angsty smut (sorry), 18+, mdni, implied age gap (joel 50s, reader late 20s) grumpy & sad joel, drug use, alcohol use, oral (m receiving), p in v, creampie, shoulder kisses, pet names & slight praise, body worship kind of, feelings but also joel is bad at feelings, established...situationship. thing. pining (but don't tell them that). romance?? how dare you accuse them of such treachery note: i am so sorry...this is pure unbridled self-indulgence. pls forgive me. also this is set in boston qz, reader and joel have a similar relationship to the one he has with tess, but she doesn't exist in this au (i'm so sorry). also i am kind of so proud of this one

It's been years since you met him, since you've begun to crack his otherwise hard exterior, helping him shed every icy layer to reveal the tired, aging man beneath it all. You've both gone to unbelievable lengths to protect one another against any trouble, or enemy, or plague, that has cast itself in your way. Each night concludes with your limbs tangled together, hands tucked safely within each other's reach. A promise, so quiet it's hardly binding—I've got you.

You've never defined exactly what it means when he calls you sweet pea, or when his lips drop a chaste kiss to your forehead in the morning, or when his hand lingers on your elbow a little longer than normal in the QZ. It never needed to mean anything, so the two of you never spoke about it. You belong to him; he belongs to you.

And yet, every year, on the exact same morning, Joel Miller wakes up a stranger to you. His eyes return to the icy dark depths that you met him with, and his hands find purchase in his pockets rather than absentmindedly rubbing circles on your skin. Every year, without fail, he retreats to his past, a place he won't ever let you see, despite your every wish.

i came prepared for absolution, if you'd only ask

A few years after you met him, you had tried asking him to explain, to let you into his head. It wasn't an attempt at intimacy, or a vulnerability that resembled anything that you hadn't seen from him before, but he'd done nothing more than shake his head.

"M'fine," he'd said. The entire day, every time you asked, no matter how softly, his answer remained unchanged. "Don't feel much like talkin'."

So instead of talking, you'd resorted to letting him come back to you on his own time, in his own way. With rough hands pushing you down to lay on your back, his eyes far away even as he brought you to the edges of bittersweet ecstasy. His kisses were always softer, more distracted. But it was the only communication you ever got out of him on those days.

When he rolled over at night, his hands curled into loose fists, you let him be. He never refused your touch, but you knew enough to recognize when it wouldn't come as any comfort to him. Not on those nights. Never on those nights.

The closest you'd get to falling asleep in his arms on those nights was with a hand placed purposefully between your chest and his back, just close enough that he might lean into it, should he shift in his sleep. And in those soft brushes of skin against cloth lay a million questions.

Forgive me, you'd begged inwardly one night. Forgive me for not understanding, and I'll forgive you for not sharing.

When the sun rose on a new morning, he was always back to the man you were used to, that you had grown dependent on. When his hands reached for you, and when his mouth painted swirls on your chest, you knew that it was out of want for you, not to distract himself from the ghosts of his own past.

He always praised your body's reaction to him, and you always relished in the way that his hips rocked against yours, stretching you out for him—tongue, fingers, his hard intrusion—on those mornings after.

You'd left it at that, for a year or two.

once i took your medication to know what it's like

He'd been resorting to more intense solutions when you decided to do it. When that day came as it always did, you watched as he drowned out the hours with whiskey and pills. You never knew where his supply came from or who was responsible for getting him his drug of choice; you could only sit idly by and watch his features droop from the effects of the dangerous combination, shuffling to your shared bed before he'd pass out until the sun rose on the next morning.

It only took three instances of this before you'd resolved to go through the day exactly as he would, as if it might help you understand. Perhaps it wasn't anything you were meant to understand, but you'd grown weary of seeing him motionless for hours on end. Usually, you never said anything. You didn't really believe he would take enough to cause any real damage; you were blindly faithful in his will to live.

"Joel," you'd said one year. That was all. One syllable, so familiar, and yet it bled with enough warning in your tone that he paused. Don't.

Glass raised, the rim already pressed to his lips—the lips of which you knew every crack and curve—pills already dissolving on his tongue, he'd paused. His eyes never looked at you, though. He sat there, frozen but for the whiskey sloshing gently in the glass before he resumed, swallowing the dark liquid in one go. With hardly a glance in your direction, he'd collapsed to the bed.

You didn't know exactly why you did it, or why it had been that year that you'd become fed up, but you couldn't ignore the fear that struck your chest when you saw him hit the mattress. Before you knew it, you'd swallowed the pills, scowling at the burn of whiskey down your throat.

It had never been your choice of liquor, but you braved the sting in your foolish hopes that it might tell you something about the gray-haired man in your bed. Like drinking his whiskey might envelope you in his arms and whisper his secrets to you.

Laying down beside him, you'd curled up to his side. He was already deep in his drugged slumber; he wouldn't be conscious enough to move from your touch. With a hand on his chest, poised over his heart to reassure yourself that he still had one, you closed your eyes and succumbed to the heavy press of sleep.

When he woke, saw your own empty glass and pill bottle left open on the table, he shook you until you startled awake. Eyes bleary, the effects of the drugs wearing off, you caught him staring down at you, his nose brushing your cheek and his lips a hair's breadth from touching yours.

"Don't ever fuckin' do that again, sweet pea," he snarled, but his words held no malice. You tried to ignore how big his eyes were, pupils blown wide.

You'd wanted to snap at him, to tell him the same thing, but you heard the desperate begging in his voice. The unspoken please. So rather than causing a scene, you'd nodded slowly and let your fingers brush the hem of his shirt. "Okay," you'd whispered. "I won't. Never again, Joel," you repeated, a mantra as you slipped your hands underneath his shirt.

Sliding his arms under your body and pulling you to him, he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, then your cheeks, both of your eyelids. He finally bent to your lips, chasing the taste of you and finding only his own mistakes on your tongue.

The day had passed. He had survived. With the gentle lull of his hips slotting against your own, he had breathed shakily into your mouth as your hands wandered along his skin. Like clockwork, Joel Miller had returned to you, if only for a short while.

i ask you how you're doing, and i let you lie

One day, the pills ran out. The whiskey didn't do anything on its own, so Joel was stuck to find something else to distract him. Whether you were the one that flushed his pills or found who was supplying him, you'd never admit. It was much too close to a confession of something than either of you were comfortable with, so you'd stayed quiet. Helped him find a new vice.

These days, you've lost count of how many years you've seen him withdraw into himself, a shell of the man you know. You've stopped trying to follow where his mind goes when the sun rises on that early autumn day, and he's never made the attempt to explain. For just one day a year, the two of you are silent except for a few mumbled words. Your hands rarely touch on those days, always a few centimeters from each other as he sits at the table.

A reminder. That you're there, that he's there, and that the day will pass. It always does.

His new vice becomes you before long, and you can manage that. He's never particularly rough on those days, anyway; he just needs your body to distract his mind. It takes him a bit to sink into the comfort of your curves, but you always help him get there. Until he's twitching under your hands and letting his eyes flutter closed as you expertly undo his jeans.

You never make him fuck you when he's like this, but you're happy to oblige when he slips a hand between your thighs, reaching for your core and always finding it ready for him. If it pleases him, you let him take whatever he needs.

With whispered moans that make your chest constrict and rough fingers pressing bruises to your hips that he'll kiss away the next morning, he gets through the day.

Today, you know it's not one of those mornings. He's already been awake for a while when you open your eyes, based on his tense posture as he sits on the edge of the bed. He's facing the window, which means his back is to you, withholding his face from yours.

Of course, you don't need to look at him to know what his face will look like. His chin is tucked toward his chest, and his eyes will be closed, hands clenched together as if in prayer. But you know better than to think of Joel Miller as a spiritual man. Whatever faith he might have had all those years ago has withered into scraps. His only faith is in your constant presence in his bed each night.

You sit up slowly, and the sound of rustling sheets makes him twitch his head to the side, the sight of his jaw ticking the only acknowledgement of you being there. With slow movements, you move to sit behind him, your legs on either side of his hips but never close enough to touch. He's gotten better at allowing for a few more moments of contact, and you think this means he's making progress.

How could you ever be sure, though? When he still won't reveal the pain of today?

"Did you wake up to see the sunrise?" you ask gently, leaning forward and bracing your hands in front of you, waiting. His response will determine how you'll distract him for the coming hours.

As usual, Joel doesn't say anything, but his back reclines an inch. It's all you need.

"I'll bet it was real pretty," you continue, trying to keep your voice soft. This is one of your many routines; you lift your hands and press them to his back, just enough for him to feel your fingertips. You don't know if he listens to anything you say, or if he even cares. This part is just for you. This is how you get through these days.

You lean just a bit further, letting your forehead rest on his shoulder. Your hands slide around his middle and your stomach flips selfishly at the feeling of his muscles tensing beneath your featherlight touch. Reaching down for his lap, you rest your palm against his jeans, feeling him twitch against your hand. There he is.

Maybe it's sad, maybe it's fucked up, but fuck what anyone else would say. This is what he needs, the only thing that helps him stay out of his nightmarish memories, whatever they may be. You'll never ask him to show that side of himself, not anymore.

Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, you deftly work the button on his jeans, pushing the zipper down and reaching into his waistband until his half-hard cock comes free. It rests heavy in your hand, and you're comforted by the weight of it. His shoulders are too broad for you to see it, but you're not bothered by this. With another kiss, this one landing on the soft skin of his neck, you give him a languid stroke.

Joel's chest rises and falls as he breathes, and you can feel his arousal stirring as he grows firmer in your grip. His hands begin to unclench, but his fingers remain flat on his tights, never touching you outside of where your legs are hooked to his, your chest flush with his back.

The room is silent except for his breathing, every second getting more shallow. You can feel the tension in his back release a little, and you let your thumb rub a slow circle over the slit on his tip, precum just starting to leak onto your hand.

You stay like this for a few minutes, one arm wrapped around his stomach and your other hand on his cock, tugging slow enough not to overwhelm him, and fast enough to keep him pulsing in your hand.

Only when his hips buck involuntarily do you let go, moving from your place behind him to the floor. Your knees hit the wood hard, but you ignore the pain as your hands slide up his thighs.

His own hands remain still on his jeans, and he lets you interlock your fingers with his own. A small mercy. Today might not be as bad as the years before, and you dip your head to lick a stripe from base to tip before closing your mouth around the head of his cock.

Joel's fingers twitch in your grasp, and you squeeze back, hardly noticeable. Just enough to act as thanks. Thank you for letting me do this. For you.

You never look up, afraid of what his eyes will betray when your mouth is around him. You know this is only a distraction, a slow respite from his thoughts. So you ignore the impatient pulse between your thighs and take him as deep as he'll go, your hopes lifting when you hear his shaky sighs.

One of his hands released yours and lands on your head, smoothing your hair as his hips fight to keep still. Your head bobs up and down, your spit mixing with his precum to leave a shining mess on his shaft.

He pats your head softly, the wet sounds of your mouth on him the only noise in the room. But then he's opening his mouth, and he's combing his fingers through your hair, and he's mumbling, "thank you, sweet pea," just quiet enough that you think you're imagining it.

Maybe you did. He doesn't say it again, and you don't look up to see how wrecked he looks. You're content to remain on your knees the entire day if it means he can relax, let go of whatever's haunting him.

But then he's pulling your head back, his cock leaving your mouth with a wet pop. Hands under your arms, he tugs you to stand in front of him. This time you do let yourself look at him, but his eyes don't lift to meet yours. He tugs your shorts and panties from your body, and once you step out of them he splays his hands on the backs of your thighs to pull you onto his lap.

His head is still tipped toward where your bodies rest against each other, rocking your pelvis against the length of his cock with a shuddering sigh. But you don't mind the view; you sit just a few inches taller than him in this position, so you can brace yourself against his shoulders, your chin resting against the top of his head.

He reaches down to rub a few quick circles on your clit, and you let him move your hips when he's ready, lodging his cock at your entrance. You're dripping, you have been this entire time, but you'd shoved down the heady desire that had punched its way through your body until he was ready. Now, with his hand guiding his tip into your sopping cunt, you let out a breath. There he is, a voice in your head repeats.

He pushes your hips down at an agonizingly slow pace, your pussy swallowing every inch of him, the sounds of your moans colliding at the feeling. "So good to me," he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your sternum and tilting his head back, closing his eyes. "Perfect."

You know that he doesn't think he deserves your praise, but you give it to him anyway. "That's it," you hum, squirming with his cock buried to the hilt. It's all you can do not to lift your hips and drag yourself up and down his length. "Take what you need, Joel."

He never lasts long when he can feel your walls squeezing his cock for all it's worth, your body betraying you when your mind just wants to remain warm and wet and ready for him all day long, until he's ready to be done with you. But with one look at you, his dark eyes finally connecting to yours, he blinks. "Thank you, sweat pea," he murmurs again.

You lift your thumb to his forehead and you trace the lines on his weathered skin, watching as your touch releases the tension from his face. All that's left is his desire, his need for you, however distracted it may be.

Joel lets himself enjoy this, as he rocks his hips into yours, the head of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you until you're shaking in his hands, forehead tipped against his as you let your moans fill the space between the two of you. He lifts your hips, pulling you nearly all the way off of him until he shoves you back down, the delicious squelch of your pussy on his cock wrenching a knee-buckling groan from his lips. "Where?" he asks, as he does every time.

You don't need to tell him, but you do. "Fill me up, Joel," you coo, a shot of pleasure spreading throughout your entire body. "Come with me, I'm right here with you."

"That's it, darlin'," is all he groans before he's wrapping his arms around your back, tugging your chest to him in a tight embrace. His face disappears into the space between your breasts and you feel his entire body quiver with yours as you reach your peak. Warmth floods your core as he spills his release into you, your walls fluttering with the intensity of your orgasm. You pull him to you, returning his near-painful embrace.

You're as close as lovers, as close to one another as you can physically get, but it'll never be enough.

The high after he comes inside you is fleeting. Only a few minutes pass before the line inevitably returns to his brow and his frown deepens after he softens. He doesn't lift you off of him, though, so you soak up the feeling while you can.

"Better?" you whisper, eyes locked on his.

He nods slowly after a moment, his mouth set in a grim line. "Always," he mumbles gently, his hand cupping your jaw as his thumb strokes your bottom lip. He presses his thumb into your mouth to the first knuckle, letting you taste salt and old sweat and your nectar on his skin.

You know better than to believe him, but you don't argue. Not today, never today. So you lift the corners of your lips in a sad smile and pretend that it doesn't feel like water rising in your lungs every time this day comes.

but we don't have to talk about it

i can walk you home and practice method acting

i'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning

tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing

even though we know it isn't true

Joel will never tell you what's on his mind. Never today. September 26th won't ever mean anything to you, so why would he bother? For him, it's everything and nothing all at once. Brown curls and sparkling young eyes and blood crusted on his arms and the unforgettable weight of death in his arms.

Another year older, he sighs, his heart clenching in grief. Another year older, and another year further from everything he's lost.

tysm for reading, here's a box of tissues. :') i love u all

[seoulmatez]

— 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓊𝓈𝑒 ౨ৎ

okkotsu yuta x f!reader. 2.2k wc. ﾉ smut ﾉ nsfw (mdni) ﾉ characters aged 21+ ﾉ unprotected sex ﾉ tit + nipple play ﾉ a hint of dacryphilia ﾉ brief handjob ﾉ mentions of cheating (neither yuta nor reader) ﾉ yuta is a little obsessive

note: eeee it's yuta's birthday ! ! i wrote this fairly quickly to post in time so pls forgive any mistakes :3 enjoy + wish the pretty boy a happy bday ‪‪❤︎‬

yuta has imagined your first time at his place on more occasions than he can recall and none of them could have prepared him for the reality of your first visit—sitting on his couch with your knees hugged to your chest, quiet sniffles filling the air as warm tears stream down your cheeks. it’s a bit awkward, partly because of your crying but mostly because yuta doesn’t mind it. he’s sure that a majority of men wouldn’t see this as attractive or opportunistic but, as he pulls a tissue from the box to offer you, yuta can’t help but think that this moment is perfect.

“i can’t believe he’d cheat on me.” you accept the tissue from yuta, dabbing the corners of your watery eyes. you crumple the kleenex in your hand but the action seems a bit premature as a new set of tears glaze over your eyes. a couple of them spill past your lashes when you turn to face yuta. he swallows the lump in his throat that comes with being the subject of your tearful gaze. it must be wrong to find you so pretty when you’re clearly upset. “do you think it was me? could i have done something to push him away?”

yuta’s head is shaking in denial as soon as the question falls from your lips. he can’t believe that you’d ever think that. what could you have possibly done to push him into another woman’s arms? if you were to ask him, he’d tell you that your ex was the dumbest man on planet earth for leaving you—and for someone else, at that. though, he’d also have to thank your idiotic ex for letting you go. he never deserved you to begin with and his absence was the opening that yuta often found himself praying for.

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” yuta tries to reassure you with a soft smile. he wills his hand to stop shaking as it comes up to wipe your tears away. the palm of his hand is warm against your face, the pad of his thumb rough but comforting as it brushes your cheek. the contact makes your eyes widen and lips part—you’ve been friends with yuta for a while now but he’s never touched you like this. it’s tender and you like it. to your dismay, he only lets his fingers linger a second longer before bashfully pulling away, choosing to clumsily scratch at his neck instead.

“i’m sure that you were a perfect girlfriend,” yuta tells you, and then he thinks better of his words. “not that him cheating on you would have been excusable if you weren’t!” he raises his hands and waves them in dismissal. if yuta were lucky enough to call himself your boyfriend, no number of little mistakes or miscommunications would run him away. he’d be by your side for the long haul. he’d never want to let you go.

“i just mean…” he looks up to the ceiling as he gathers the hectic thoughts bouncing around in his head into a coherent sentence. “nothing you did drove him to that.”

with a sigh, yuta closes his eyes and shakes his head subtly. his nerves are starting to get to him and he doesn’t want some stupid jitters to be what ruins this chance for him. you’re finally within his reach, just an arm’s length away, his for the taking.

he’s gotta pull himself together.

when the man tilts his head down and opens his eyes, he’s met with the sight of you. it shouldn’t make him jump, but your body is turned to face him and you’re closer than you had been before. he can feel his heart thump against his chest at the proximity but he supposes it’s a good sign. his words didn’t rub you the wrong way like he thought they might have—he’s still got a chance.

your knees are tucked beneath you now, hands resting on your thighs. your fingers nervously tap at your leg as you hold yuta’s gaze. you couldn’t be exactly sure why yuta was the first one you called upon finding out that your relationship had all but crumbled. maybe it had to do with the fact that he always seemed to want to help or maybe it was simply the fact that he was always around. regardless of the reasoning, the overwhelming sadness you had felt when you arrived is beginning to dissipate, replaced by new feelings that you’re sure you shouldn’t be acting on. 

but that fleeting thought doesn’t stop you from asking, “you really think so?”

he nods, never taking his eyes off yours. “i do—”

his words jumble as you lean forward to press your lips against his. you can feel him gasp a bit but he doesn’t pull away. his lips are warm and softer than you thought they’d be. it’s a sloppy kiss, uncoordinated and messy with spit, though, that fact doesn’t stop either of you from deepening it—from chasing more.

your leg swings over his thighs so that you’re straddling him, hands coming up to cup his jaw as you run your tongue along his lower lip. your chest and yuta’s rise and fall with heavy breaths between the two of you. the air surrounding you is thick and charged and you want nothing more than to feed off of it. “is this okay?” 

“yeah, but…” he doesn’t want to come off as too eager, although, he’s sure you’re having no trouble telling with the way you’re grinding on the growing tent in his jeans. he hopes he doesn’t regret asking, “are you sure?”

“i just—i need to get my mind off of him. i need a distraction,” you tell yuta, rolling your hips against his. your hands drop from his face in favor of making their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the dark, inky strands as you stare into the depths of his widened eyes. “can you be that for me?”

a strangled moan—one that yuta desperately tries, and fails, to hold back—sounds in the quiet air of his living room. nothing would make him happier than to be yours to use. the hands that had once been stiffly resting at his sides come up to make a home on your waist. “god, yes, i can.”

his confirmation is all you need to dip your head down and capture his lips in yet another kiss. yuta doesn’t attempt to swallow down his moans and you don’t either—not that it would be possible upon feeling his bulge rhythmically nudge your panty-clad clit. the contact makes your skin prickle with goosebumps and contributes to the growing wetness between your legs.

impatience overcomes you as your mind races with thoughts of what yuta feels like without all the fabric barriers. you reach down between your bodies to fumble with the buckle of his belt, lips still occupied with his. with your attention divided, it takes you a couple of botched attempts before you’re finally able to loosen his belt, undo his button, and pull down his zipper. 

the sequence of actions reveals his black underwear and brings you one step closer to seeing him in his entirety. yuta’s breath hitches in his throat as you palm his cock and you take that as an opportunity to break away from the kiss, turning your full focus to the member between his legs. 

your fingers slip under the waistband of his boxer briefs and pull the cotton down, releasing his erection. it slaps against his t-shirt and the cool air must bite against his head because you can hear him hiss at the new position.

your hand hesitantly hovers, eyes locking onto his in a silent plea for permission to touch him. he catches on quickly, hurriedly nodding. he’s imagined this countless times, too—how your fingers would feel wrapped around his cock. and yuta thinks he’s been patient enough until now. 

when you finally take him in your hand, he’s warm and heavy in your grasp. the precum beading at his slit is plentiful. you let your thumb run over the opening, spreading the pre over his head and down his shaft, slowly stroking his length. he’s painfully hard, so much so that yuta tosses his head back to rest on the couch cushion.

he fidgets with the hem of your shirt that hugs your midsection in an effort to keep himself grounded. at this rate, he’s going to come all over your hand. he needs something to busy his mind with to keep that much from happening. “can i—” he swallows thickly before tipping his chin down to look you in the eye, “can i take off your shirt?”

you hum, raising your arms over your head so that he can pull your tee off. your absence between his legs doesn’t go unnoticed as he tugs the shirt off your torso. the fabric falls from the light grip of his fingers when he realizes that you aren’t wearing a bra. his cheeks grow impossibly warmer upon being met with the sight of your bare chest, though, instead of giving in to embarrassment, yuta’s hands come up to massage your tits.

as good as it feels to have his hands all over you, you’re aching for something more. so, while you have no intention of stopping him, you reach under your skirt to pull your panties to the side. both sets of your eyes are glued to the space between you, the space that lessens with each inch you take as you slowly sink down onto his cock. the stretch makes your lips part and your head loll as you adjust to his size. 

“shit,” yuta swears under his breath, his thumbs sweeping over your hardened nipples. he can’t believe he’s buried in you, being swallowed by your warmth. he didn’t know it was possible to feel this way—like he’s walking on clouds. his next words come out quiet and breathy, so low that you can barely hear them. “you feel so good.”

a small smile pulls at the corners of your lips at his whispered statement. you’d tell him the same if you weren’t more concerned with chasing your high. as your hands come to rest on his shoulders, you lift yourself up and down, setting a relaxed rhythm that’s just enough to attain the pleasure you’re after.

it’s mesmerizing, yuta thinks, the way your breasts bounce as you ride him. he licks his lips hungrily before latching onto one of your nipples. his tongue swirls against the peak while lithe fingers pinch at and roll the other between his rough pads. the moans that push past his lips and vibrate against your skin as he sucks at your tits fuel the fire of arousal in your abdomen. 

you dig your nails into his shoulders, the fabric of his shirt bunching together in your grasp with your tightened grip. between his touch, his mouth, and the way his cock head keeps bumping your g-spot, you’re not sure that you want to—or can—draw this out for any longer.

your pace quickens as your climax approaches and the rhythm you took care setting earlier has all but disappeared as your hips knock into yuta’s. your hastened tempo makes his cock twitch. that feeling of tightness in his muscles returns, the one that warns him of his impending orgasm. while he wouldn’t be ashamed to come before you, he thinks it would be more romantic if you do it together.

with his lip pulled between his teeth, yuta’s hand sneaks down to rub your clit. the unexpected touch makes you gasp in surprise. his fingers must be magic or the closest thing to it because a few simple circles are all it takes to snap the tension that had been building up in your tummy.

yuta’s name is sweet on your lips as you cry out for him. your walls spasm around his cock as your orgasm washes over you, nails biting into his shoulder blades in an attempt to ground yourself. 

yuta is sure that his desire to come inside of you is unmatched, though, he isn’t sure now is an appropriate time to do so. so, he ignores the devilish thoughts begging him—urging him—to paint your insides white. he pulls out and lets his cum spurt on his sweaty shirt with a shaky groan.

beyond your shared heavy breaths, yuta’s apartment is silent. it gives you both a moment to think about what just happened, but the thoughts on your minds starkly contrast.

you’re starting to feel the weight of your actions and you’re almost positive that the regret will be in full effect once you’ve slept on it for a night. it’s not typical of you to take on rebounds and certainly not ones that run in your everyday circle. you’ll be lucky if yuta is willing to forget that any of this happened.

unlike you, yuta feels absolutely and positively weightless. you’ve successfully put every fantasy he could dream up with you to shame. if it was this good the first time, he can’t wait to see what it’ll be like when he actually gets to fuck you—when he’s able to call you his.

thanks for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, pls consider reblogging or commenting :3

[wlntrsldler]

PLS MAKE A FULL BLURB OR ONESHOT FOR LUKE AND A KNIFE KINK ID EAT THAT UP💔💔😭😭

ur wish is my command... MDNI

not canon for the plot!

505 | luke castellan

luke couldn't stand it. everyone seemed to second-guess him. oh, luke wouldn't it be better if we did this? what if we combined these two strategies? this doesn't make sense, luke! we should just stick to the original plan.

luke wanted to yell at everyone to tell them to shut up! gods, they were getting on his nerves. didn't they understand that what he says goes? he was the one enacting the plan for kronos. he was the one kronos approached. he was the one the titan trusted to lead the return of the golden age. not them.

maybe luke had gotten soft. ever since you joined his side of the fight, he supposed he's been a little bit pre-occupied with dealing with you. it wasn't his fault, though-- really it wasn't! it took two months for you to come crawling back to him, begging him to forgive you for ever turning your back on him, and two months was a long time for luke not to fuck his favorite girl dumb with his cock.

sure, he may have gone overboard on your first night (or first three days, more like) on princess andromeda, but he didn't care. now, though, since his loyal followers thought that they could run their mouth about how he was leading the cause, he started to care.

luke wasn't allowed to have a weak spot, but with you around, he feared that he was breaking that rule. that can't happen.

luke entered your shared room with a loud slam of the door. you were laying in bed, in one of his t-shirts and panties on, reading a book, patiently waiting for him to get back. he huffed as he stared at himself in the mirror, analyzing the creases between his eyebrows from his anger. he took off his shirt, wiping the sweat from his face, as you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso.

you pressed your face against his toned back, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek, "you're tense, baby. what's going on?"

"nothin'," he muttered, playing with backbiter that was situated by his thigh, confined in its scabbard. "they're just pissin' me off. think they know better than i do."

"they don't," you began kissing down his back, letting your lips linger a bit longer on his scars. luke closed his eyes at the feeling of your hands traveling down his abs, stopping shy at his belt buckle. "need to blow off some steam?"

luke bit his bottom lip at the sound of your voice, all sultry and sexy. he loved it when you did this. it's like you knew exactly what he needed. "you offerin', sweetheart?"

"always, baby," you tapped his bicep to make him turn around. he faced you, leaning down to start nipping at the expanse of your neck. his hands gripped your waist, pushing you closer to his hardening cock. you moaned as he sucked on your pulse point, "you know i'm yours to use whenever you want."

luke wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling on it slightly to have you look up at him. your eyes were narrowed, pupils blown wide. you were a sight to see. luke leaned down to your lips, making you whine when he didn't bother to kiss you. instead, his teeth took your bottom lip between them and bit down. he sucked on your bottom lip harshly as he grinded his hips against yours. he let go of your lip, running his tongue over the faint bite mark he left on it. "i knew i could count on you."

your hands fiddled with his jeans, popping off the button as you sank down to your knees. luke removed the scabbard from his belt loop and had backbiter in his hand. you were unzipping his pants, palming his cock through the fabric of his jeans and boxers. your eyes were glued on his happy trail and his abs, mouth watering as you imagined the weight of his cock in your mouth again. it's only been a few hours since luke fucked you, but you were so cock-drunk that it felt too long since.

luke wanted to see your pretty face as you pushed his pants down. he took the tip of backbiter and led it to the underside of your jaw. you froze at the cold metal against your skin and luke thought maybe he'd gone too far by putting the celestial bronze against your neck, but then you moaned. and any restraint luke had flew out the window.

luke chuckled darkly at your reaction and dug backbiter harder into your skin, not enough to draw blood, but enough to force you to look at him. your eyes were wide and dark, silently pleading for him to continue his actions. your bottom lip was poking out into a pout and luke wanted to take a picture of you right now to keep for himself for later. you looked so pretty like this, on your knees with his hard cock in front of your face, wearing his shirt, and his sword poking your neck.

"you like that?" he asked, letting his free hand cradle your jaw. he licked his lips as you placed a kiss on his palm-- a thank you of some sorts for unlocking a kink within you that you didn't know you had.

"yes," you sighed, feeling his thumb caress your cheekbone.

"oh, my baby," luke cooed, voice dripping with a mean, teasing tone. he tapped your jaw with backbiter twice, motioning for you to get up. you obliged and luke spun the two of you around so you were both facing the mirror. luke was behind you, lifting the oversized shirt above where your panties started. he moved your hair to one side, placing backbiter back on the side of your neck.

luke met your eyes in the mirror and he couldn't help but let a wicked grin take over his features. something about knowing that he's the only person who could get you in a position like this made a fire erupt in his chest. he was never a possessive person, but when it came to you-- you were his and he was going to make sure you knew that.

"you're gonna watch me fuck you with my sword against your neck," he whispered in your ear, teeth grazing over your earlobe. "sounds good, sweetheart?"

"s'good," you purred, leaning your head against his shoulder blade. you were already delirious and he hadn't even touched you yet.

luke pulled down his boxers and your panties, groaning at the arousal that stuck against the fabric. you were soaking. he pressed his tip against your eager pussy, hissing at the tightness. no matter how much he fucked you, it always felt like heaven when his cock pushed into your folds. he could never get tired of this feeling.

you moaned loudly when luke was all the way in, trying your best to keep your eyes open as pleasure took over your body. backbiter was still pushed against your neck, the feeling of the cold metal and luke's warm body against your back was the perfect contrast. luke's hips snapped against your ass. the sound of skin slapping was like music to his ears.

luke's eyes wandered to your face in the mirror, tongue poking out the corner of his lips when he saw your face contort in pleasure. your jaw was ajar as you mewled around his cock, eyes rolling back as luke hit that spot inside you that had you seeing stars. he'd fucked you enough times to know exactly where it was. luke watched as your ass bounced against him, flesh turning red at the constant pressure against it. a part of him wanted to make it difficult for you to sit down tomorrow.

as luke was getting close to his release, he removed backbiter from your throat and tugged on your hair. his other hand grabbed your jaw harshly and forced your head to twist so he could put his lips on yours. he roughly connected your lips, drinking in the sounds of your moans as his tongue explored your mouth. you were panting against his mouth, all breathy and desperate.

"i'm cumming," you whispered. luke separated your lips, turning your head to face the mirror again. he wanted to see you cum on his cock. it was his favorite view.

when your jaw dropped and your eyes screwed shut, luke sped up his thrusts as he felt your cum coating his cock. your pussy tightened around him and he had to grab onto the corner of the dresser beside him to steady himself. he came with long, spurts of cum coating your walls as you watched him fuck his cum deep inside you.

luke collapsed on top of your back, accidentally kicking backbiter away so that it hit the bottom of the dresser with a clang. when he heard you whimper as he pulled his softening cock out of you, all he could think about was how he'd gladly let all the stress and doubts of his team get to him more often if it meant he got to blow off steam like this.

[nena-la-fresa]

The Dragon and The Wolf |Part 3|

18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio, if you do not I will automatically block you because I’ll assume you are a minor.

Part 2 | Part 4

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f! Stark Reader

Warning: Arranged Marriage | Murder/Suicide | Soft Aemond |

Word Count: 2233

A/N: Hasn't been proof read yet. I feel like this took a hard fucking turn and idk how I feel about it. But it's the only direction I feel like it could go in.

Aemond had dressed first so that he could stand in front of you as you changed back into your dress. He hid your body from his brother as he refused to look away. 

“I’ll have you know sister. I tried many times to get him to bed a woman in the whore house. I had no idea he was capable of that.” 

“Brother I think you speak too much for a man on his deathbed.” 

“That is exactly why I need to speak my dear baby brother.” Aegon began to cough violently. “Come.” Aegon lets out. 

Aemond looks back at you to check if you are dressed before moving to sit on his brother's bedside. You follow closely behind to fill up a cup for Aegon. 

“I have spoken to mother. As my children have all died you are to be my heir.” He began to cough again. 

As he does, you pass him the cup, “Thank you dear sister.” He takes a sip to provide relief to his throat. 

“Forgive me dear brother. I never wanted to be king. It should have been you. You should have been King. You wanted it far more than I did.” Aemond watched as his brother spoke. 

“As you have consummated your wedding I see no reason why I should drag my life on longer.” 

Confused by his response you looked over at Aemond and back at Aegon. 

“Aemond, I need you to kill me. I can not live like this. This is no life. I will not live like father.” 

Aemond scoffs and gets up from his brother's bed, “All you have is broken bones and scar's brother.” 

“It is an infection.” Aegon removes his quilt with what strength he had left to show the infection that had been growing on his legs. “I had the maester hide it from mother.” 

All Aemond could do was look at the infection that had spread from Aegon's leg to his chest. Aegon infection had looked exactly as their father’s. 

“Aemond. Please. I beg of you. You had not let me run away back then. Let me die now. Let me go before I end up like that man.” 

Aegon's eyes pleated with the silent prince. All Aemond could do was nod. 

“Aemond.” You spoke lightly. Your thoughts racing at the possibility that your new husband was about to do. 

Aemond turned back to you, watching as your figure cowered. He had made his way over to you, he tilted your chin upwards towards him. His grip was firm yet soft, “Make your way to my chambers. Speak to no one, and remain there even if I do not return.” 

You looked at him hesitant, your eyes flickering between him and his brother. 

“Y/n”. It was the first time he had spoken your name since the moment you had arrived. Your eyes had now locked on his face. 

“Do you understand?” 

You nodded lightly. You began to walk away before turning back and looked at Aegon, “I wish we would have met under different circumstances. But may the gods of the old and the new be with you.” 

Aegon gave a faint smile, “And to you.” 

You had made your way out the door closing it behind you. You stood there for a few seconds before walking off. Your mind clouded, vaguely remembering where Alicent had showed you where Aemonds chambers were. 

“She’s beautiful.” Aegon spoke to fill the awkward silence. 

“She is.” Aemond’s view lingered on the door for a few seconds before returning his attention to his brother. “I will return. It would be best with poison.” 

“No.” Aegon coughed before speaking again, “Where would you find poison at this hour? There are too many eyes watching.” 

“Anything else and it would be obvious it was an assassination.” 

“Use the pillow.” 

Aemond hesitated but he watched his brother. “Please.” Aegon whispered. 

He had looked frail, he hadn’t noticed until now how weak his brother looked. The man his brother once was was gone. There no longer resided the whore of a man. The one who would always tease him. All that was left was an empty shell of a man who was asking for mercy. 

Aemond picked up the pillow and hovered over his brother. Aegon could tell Aemond was hesitant, “Don’t worry bother. I will forgive you.” He paused for a moment, “I love you my dear brother Aemond.” 

“And I you brother.” Aemond lowered the pillow down against Aegon's face. 

He had pressed his weight down more. And after a minute or so there was a jolt. Aegon’s body had been fighting against the weight. His hands found Aemonds arms as he grasped onto them. Holding them for what seemed like hours Aemonds hands shook at the pressure he was putting. Until the jerking motion had stopped. There were no longer signs of struggle coming from Aegon. Removing the pillow Aemond saw his brother's face. It was lifeless, it looked like he was resting and that at any second he would take up. 

Aemond put his finger to his brother's nose to check for air, and there was none. He had done what his brother had asked for. He had remained loyal to his brother. But at what cost. The wave of guilt and regret hit Aemond. He placed the pillow down where it was first found. He had begun to back away from his brother. His mind racing, his heart beating out of his chest. 

He should have said no. He should have let his brother suffer. He should have suffered because now he is burdened with the weight of this. Now with the weight of becoming king. He had always wanted to be king. But this was the cost. Was this really worth it? 

Consumed by his emotions Aemond left the room making sure there was no one. He then made his way through the doors of the Red Keep. He had climbed onto Vhagar making the dragon fly into the storm that had been stirring. Aemonds cursed the gods but they had been drowned out by the clapping of thunder. 

As you walked into Aemonds chambers you were greeted with the decorated colors of black and red. The candles had provided the only light as you stood there in front of the door. You had tensed up after hearing a knock on the door. As you turned around you saw a maid with towels in hand. 

“Princess, before the Prince left he had asked me to draw you a bath. Please sit as we get everything ready.” 

“Thank you.” You gave her a half smile. You had made your way to the small balcony, the cold night air made you shiver slightly. But as you breathed in you could smell a hint of petrichor. 

“Please princess, sit by the fire. You might catch a cold.” 

You chuckled lightly, “Winterfell has had colder nights.” But you listen to the maid regardless and sit by the fire. You had begun to wonder where Aemond had gone. Or what had happened. Had he fulfilled Aegond's wish? 

As the other maid finished drawing the bath the other helped you remove your gown. No matter how many times you refused she didn’t take no for an answer. Just as you were about to step in, the sound of thunder and the bedroom door swinging open were heard. 

Startled, the three of you turned towards the door to see Aemond drenched. The look on his face was hard to read. One could say it was a somber look. You wrapped yourself in a sheet and excused the maid out. 

Closing the door behind them you made your way to Aemond. He had made his way to the fire, leaving a trail of water behind him. 

“Aemond?” You place your hand on his arm, yet he makes no response. 

“Come bathe with me.” You lead him to the bath and begin to remove his clothes for him. 

You let him get in first. Trying to figure out where to sit, you decide that the only option was his lap. You step in slowly as you avoid stepping on him. You slowly sink down and straddle his waist. Instinctually his hands placed themselves on the curve of your hips. You grabbed the cloth nearest and dipped it into the warm water. You began to run the cloth against his chest, shoulders and to his neck. You grabbed his hand, cleaning his palms before you cleaned the rest of his arm, you had done the same for the other. You had rinsed the cloth before cleaning his face. You gently cleaned around his face but got to his eyepatch. You hesitated for a second but decided to remove it. 

Aemond, now out of his trance, stopped your hand. 

“Not there.” His voice was different. It had almost sounded like defeat. 

You put down the cloth against the tub. Grabbing his hand you placed it on your waist. Gently you grabbed the eyepatch and pulled it away. He had his left eyelid closed, making his scar even more noticeable. You picked up the cloth again and gently patted it so as to not hurt him. When you were done you leaned in and kissed his eyelid. 

You had pulled away from him, once you did he decided to show you. Show you how hideous it was. How hideous he was. 

You were met with a blue sight. The space where his eye was supposed to be was replaced with a blue sapphire. 

“Hideous is it not.” 

“You’re beautiful.” 

They had spoken at the same time. 

It had taken him a bit to register what you had said. You leaned down again to kiss his scar and the corner of his eye. No one had ever used that word to describe his eye. He had kept the eyepatch as a courtesy for others as many of the times they were repulsed. Saying things behind his back, ‘He now has only a face a mother could love.’ 

“You must be blind.” Aemond turns his head away from you. His hands no longer rested on your waist as he moved his arms against the tub. 

“I can assure you my dear husband that the only blind one here is you.” You smiled lightly as he turned his head back. 

“You dare joke now?” 

“You are blind to your own beauty. You after all have that Targaryan ethereal beauty. A horrible attitude yet a very pretty face.”  

He continued to glare at you. There was a distant look that was scattered across his face. It was hard not to notice. It was hard not to ask him what he was thinking or feeling. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“No.” He grew stubborn though you clearly knew his mind was flooded with thoughts. This was the first time he was docile. No sarcastic remarks, no anger behind his words. Perhaps it was best to leave him with his thoughts for now. 

“Alright well-” You paused, “I’ll leave you to your thoughts then.” You were going to leave the tub when his hands found your waist again. His fingers danced across your waist. 

The man you had seen that day in his mothers chambers was now different. Although it was only a moment, it had been enough for you. Enough that you saw another side of him. Not the angry man he was. But a loyal man, a man who would do anything his family asked of him, no matter the action. 

Aemond wrapped his arms around your waist. He sat up slightly, coming closer to you he rested his head on your shoulder. 

“Do not leave. Not yet.” His voice was soft, almost angelic. 

He had confused you. He had made your mind try and piece together if you should hate him or comfort him. He still had disrespected you when he did, he had still lashed out when he did. But the last few hours, since the moment you had entered Aegon's room, it was different. 

In this moment you were choosing comfort. You wrapped your arms around him. You felt his warmth, the way his skin touched your skin. You felt the way he was breathing and his heartbeat. Your fingers ran through his hair in an attempt to soothe him in any way you could. After all, you were now his wife. His future Queen. Was this not the role a woman in this society needed to take? 

Perhaps you were delusional. Perhaps you were just trying to justify his behavior. But would that really be so bad? After all this? After knowing a secret with him. Knowing you have to keep this secret. It was frustrating. Frustrating that in the past three days you had not had a single dream or vision. Nothing that could help you in dealing with all this. Nothing that could help prevent it. Perhaps you had angered the gods in some way. Either way you had to gain it back, you had to be in the favor of the gods. After all, being what you were was the only reason as to why you were in this situation at all. It was the only reason why your family was alive. To remove that from yourself could cause chaos and the death of your house.

[ukiyowi]

Mini PAC I

Notes: Please check out the Masterlist for more! Reblogging and paid readings help a lot! Pls DM me if you want one!

What flower are you? 🌸🌸

Read from left to right, 1 - 3 then 4 - 6

Note - I know its not long, but I am still coming into things because of the long break I had taken from pick a card readings which is why I will slowly build up to reach my ability to do longer readings again whilst doing shorter readings in the time being.

Paid readings || Old PACs

Pile 1: Crocus

Your energy resembles that of the flower crocus. Although these usually symbolise the welcoming of spring and the start of youth, as well as cheerfulness and hope, some cronus flowers also grow with the start of fall or winter. These signify the changing of times and renewal alongside new beginnings.

You may be the kind of person that changes constantly for the better, you're always trying to see how you can improve yourself and work on yourself, whilst keeping a positive mindset and optimistic approach to life. You may be someone who's constantly hopeful even in times of dire stress or situations where people may feel hopeless, being the well needed light in times of darkness.

Pile 2: Hydrangea

Hydrangeas often symbolise gratitude and understanding but can also represent abundance, prosperity, love, peace and grace. Certain cultures also associate them with forgiveness and apologies.

You could be the kind of person who finds it very easy to forgive people, you could also be forgiving to a fault at times which might end up hurting you. You may be conventionally attractive and be of a calm demeanor, knowing how to keep your cool and the kind of person who will always vouch for peace or often stay neutral during arguments, acting as a designated mediator.

Pile 3: Lunaria

Lunaria often symbolise honesty, transparency and the flow of money due to its other names being Honesty or Silver Dollar plant and the names stem from their translucent seed pods that resemble silver coins. In some cultures, it is also believed that keeping these plants near the alter or at the home, helps ward off monsters or negative spirits.

You may be the kind of person who finds themself to be lucky in the matters of finances and carry goodluck in general. Your guides may be extremely strong and great and warding off any sort of lingering negative energies near you which can often result in you having a lot of moments where something bad almost happens but then doesn't. People value you as the name of the plant suggests for your honesty and how you are able to give them straightforward responses.

Pile 4: Xylosma

So this plant is not as known and was a little tough to research upon however, it is very special in my opinion. The plant I usually used for ornamental purposes and beautification due to their adaptability in different kinds of environments and has a very strong network when it comes to the structure of the plant itself.

You may be the kind of people pile 4 who are grounded in reality and may be realists to a fault. You find peace and quiet in the smaller things in life and may have found yourself in positions of having to be resilient because of fast-paced challenges being thrown at you like constantly changing jobs or schools or constant movement. Furthermore, you are able to provide people with the safe space and security they need as well.

Pile 5: Ixia

Ixia represents, joy, happiness and cheerfulness and with it's very colourful and bright appearance I think it also represents the innocence of youth and childhood. It also often represents the fulfilment of wishes and aspirations and an environment where dreams and hopes can be cultivated.

You pile 5, are the dreamers and the people who actually go after what they are passionate about and see it through rather than simply thinking about it. You are able to execute your ideas and plans which lead to the fulfilment of your desires which may put people off at times because they may think you have it easy. However, your youthful spirit keeps even people envious of you to hold you in high regards.

Pile 6: Blanket Flower

One of my favourite kinds, blanket flower represents warmth which is suggested by the name itself, protection, nurturing and perseverance. In some cases they are also associated with festivities and celebrations due to their vibrant colours that stand out in any room.

You could be the kind of people who are always looking out for others and may be the first person someone goes to when they are having a hard time because of your warm and comforting presence. You may also be a little bit of a party animal where you love to go all out and dance and sing and celebrate even the smallest of your victories because you have had to cultivate that habit so that you prevent yourself from becoming overly critical.

[sanjisboyfie]

one piece smau: dating usopp edition

— get the amtching usernames bc usopp is a sniper - so he is cupid because he sniped readers heart just like that and theyre both madly in love w each other... everything does add uo i swear

— male reader as alllwayyyysss + i love giving usopp love bc hes so underrated not to mention easily fine as fuck (both in live action and in the anime)

liked by cupidusopp, roro.zoro, and 9k others

snipedbycupid: i was gonna gatekeep this photo of usopp, but decided that his beauty had to be shared w the world

tagged: cupidusopp

cupidusopp: uhmmmm sorry but i got a boyfriend, you can't jus b posting photos of me like this :///

-> snipedbycupid: fym "sorry" ??? is that what you tell other people on the street when they hit on you? "sorry but i have a boyfriend"

-> imcupid: please [name] that is NOT what i meant at all

-> snipedbycupid: so you're calling me stupid now ???

[liked by dni_nami, robinkills and 70 others]

dni_nami: okay but his hair ?? is giving

-> snipedbycupid: all he needs to do is grow his hair out longer so it can be put in a low pony UGHHH im salivating

-> cupidusopp: im taking notes rn so you never leave me

liked by freeluffy, skullnsoul, and 11k others

cupidusopp: me and my boyfriend are so hot and everyone wishes they were us

tagged: snipedbycupid

snipedbycupid: im barking like a DOG rn

-> cupidusopp: wow you really know the way to a man's heart im blushin rn

robinkills: you two look quite intimidating, how cute

-> snipedbycupid: we are the baddest duo in the world everyone needs to fear us

-> dni_nami: yeah, fear the public disturbances you two cause

[liked by roro.zoro, cupidusopp, and 90 others]

princesanji: someone needs to investigate how usopp possibly pulled himself a cute boyfriend

-> snipedbycupid: you're sure you're not gay sanji? you jus called another man cute, that's pretty gay of you

-> cupidusopp: sanji's gay ass in my comment section rn tryna steal my mannn 🤦🏽‍♂️🤦🏽‍♂️🤦🏽‍♂️

-> princesanji: with this attitude i really have no idea how anyone could fall for u

liked by princesaji, SUPERCOLA, robinkills and 12k others

dni_nami: i hate how these two dress better than the entire friend group without even trying

tagged: snipedbycupid and cupidusopp

cupidusopp: me n my baby gotta showout if the rest of u guys are gonna dress bummy af

[liked by snipedbycupid, freeluffy, and 100 others]

snipedbycupid: HE LOOKS EXTRA FINE IN THESE PHOTOS YALL THAT'S LITERALLY MINNEEE THATS MY BABBYY

-> cupidusopp: no way u got me kickin my feet n blushing like a school girl rn 🤭🤭

-> cupidusopp: also you look so FINE here stfu

ttchopper: i want to dress like usopp and [name]! they're so cool

-> roro.zoro: as long as you dont develope their level of stupidity, chopper, i say go for it

-> snipedbycupid: always gotta b the most unhinged shit coming from u zoro

liked by cupidusopp, princesanji, and 10k others

snipedbycupid: the little details of dating usopp <3

tagged: cupidusopp

cupidusopp: please i think i would die for you this is so serious

-> snipedbycupid: LMFAOOA USOPP STOP

roro.zoro: so you guys skipped gym to go on a date? im never inviting you guys again

-> snipedbycupid: did not mean to break ur heart today zoro pls forgive us

freeluffy: BEST FRIENDS ARE IN LOVE BEST FRIENDS ARE IN LOOOOOVVVEEEEE USOPP AND [NAME] SITTING IN A TREE, K I S S I NG !!!

[liked by snipedbycupid, cupidusopp, and 70 others]

-> princesanji: how old are you????

liked by dni_nami, princesanji, and 11k others

cupidusopp: boyfriends that pee together stay together !!!

tagged: snipedbycupid

dni_nami: the internet did not need to see this

-> cupidusopp: someone jelly that they're still single yawnnn

dr.law: this is so unsanitary, i need u both to delete yourselves

-> snipedbycupid: a doctor encouraging something as extreme as this, a shame what our generation has become

-> dr.law: you're the one posting yourself urinating for all to see.

freeluffy: hey where's my photo creds!! i had to stand on the toiler and take a picture over the stall for this angle!!!

SUPERCOLA: usopp had a vision and i can appreciate this - it's borderline art, guys

-> snipedbycupid: we knew you'd get it franky

liked by dni_nami, freeluffy, and 10k others

cupidusopp: i don't get mushy about me and [name]'s relationship often, but this man genuinely is my entire world and i love him so much and not a day goes by that where im not grateful that we have each other <333 i wanna share every single laugh w u, happy 2 years [name]

tagged: snipedbycupid

cupidusopp: I HATE HOW CHEESY THIS IS BUT HES MY POOKIE FR

robinkills: you two are so cute when you're not posting yourselves urinating on social media

-> cupidusopp: PLEASE ROBIN UNDERSTAND THE VISION !!!

skullnsoul: your guys' relationship is so cute because it's a perfect balance of everything you need in a healthy relationshp and im glad you two found each other

[liked by roro.zoro, princesanji, dni_nami, and 100 others]

-> sniperbycupid: awww brook you sound like such a wise old man, me and usopp love u v much thank u

dni_nami: my best friends are so cute UGH i hate u two

SUPERCOLA: i cant believe its been only 2 years it feels like you two have been tgt since forevverrr

-> cupidusopp: thatd b my bad bc ive had a crush on him since we met and i dont think i hid it very well at all.

snipedbycupid's story

WE ARE THE SEXIEST COUPLE KNOWN TO MAN

cupidusopp replied to your story: sorry im coming over rn bc !!!! u look too good in this photo to ignore i cant do this see u in 10

[lalalunel]

Pathetic Leon pt. 7

word count: 837

Figured i should include a word count bc this feels (and def is) longer than the other parts. also trying to make it somewhat neat?? an attempt, pls cut me some slack

Leon was pacing around his living room nervously while waiting for you to come back from class, his nails bitten down to skin at how hard he was stressing. What should he say? How could he put you down gently without hurting your feelings? How did he avoid telling you he felt the same? That one was stressing him out the most. 

He froze in his place when he heard the lock disengaged, the door opening to present you, a happy look on your face as you carefully balanced two coffee cups in your hands. You looked up to see Leon there, a smile spreading on your face that made Leon want to forget about saying anything at all. “Hey,” you greeted, which he returned as calmly as he could. “I got coffee after class, figured I’d get you some too.” 

“Thanks..” His heart aches as he takes the cup of coffee from your hand, staring down at it almost with a guilty expression. He looks back up at you as you go to settle down, gently grabbing your wrist to keep you in place. “I actually need to talk to you for a sec,” he calls out, gaining your attention instantly. “I uh… I heard your conversation last night..” he says outright, figuring the best way to get this over with was to rip the bandaid right off. 

Your eyebrows raise. “Huh?” He drops his grip on your wrist, awkwardly taking a sip of his coffee as he tries to collect his thoughts. The coffee scalds his tongue. “The walls are thin..” He can’t stand looking at your face, the way you recoil from embarrassment and what is probably shame. “You weren’t very quiet so I.. overheard everything…” 

You’re unable to meet his eyes after he speaks and clearly embarrassed, and he instantly wishes he could suck his words right back into his mouth. Not having your pretty eyes on him because of him makes him want to commit a crime against himself in retribution. He presses on, however, word vomiting in a mild bit of nervousness. “I'm flattered, really, I just.. As your father’s friend, I can’t indulge you in any way, y’know? He would have my head if he knew anything happened between you and me.” 

You still don’t say anything or look at him and his mild nervousness turns almost into a panic. Did he just ruin his relationship with you? “Plus I’m way too old for you, sweetheart. You’re in college and you’re pretty, I’m sure there’s plenty of nice guys that would suit you better, yeah?” You only answer him with more silence and it all but drives him mad.

“Please say something,” He pleads, unable to stand the silence you give him. He would never be able to forgive himself if somehow he just crushed you. 

“..I’ve known the walls are thin..” It’s the first thing you say after a while of silence, and it throws Leon for a loop. He looks at you with an obviously befuddled look as you finally turn to look at him again, your expression pinched. “It goes both ways, y’know.” 

Leon stares at you, processing before your words seem to click. 

If he could hear you, hear your friend who was over the phone, there was nothing stopping you from hearing him too. Like maybe when he was groaning and whimpering your name under his breath none too quietly as he desperately jerked off to the thought of you after seeing you in those shorts from the other day and after he heard your conversation.

The realization made his eyes widen, a look of pure horror over taking his face. You don’t have to say anything further for him to understand what you mean, and yet you still do. “I heard you, jerking off and saying my name. So you’re too old for me, but I’m not too young for you?” 

The question makes him cringe, his entire demeanor deflating. How does he even respond to that? What can he say to salvage this? “Listen, I-- that--” You have him stumbling over his words trying to fix this. “I can’t-- You weren’t supposed to hear that. I meant what I said, I can’t indulge you. I am too old for you, and you are too young for me.” 

You don’t seem all too pleased with that answer. Leon figures as much from the way you mumble ‘hypocrite’ under your breath, thinking he won’t catch it. “Okay,” you reply simply and curtly. Leon can barely press you on the answer before you’re already walking towards his guest room, shutting the door behind you firmer than he would deem normal. 

He stares blankly where you were before, at a loss for words. Did that go well? Definitely not. Whatever high regards you held him in before that were definitely tarnished beyond belief. Leon can only stand there, his cup of coffee growing cold in his grasp as he regrets opening his mouth in the first place.

~~~

oooh, let's pretend it didn't take me like a week to write something this short oooh

if it makes it any better, I'm already writing part 8 :D

[loverboykirstein]

a sinner at heart /// kinktober pt. 1

geto suguru x afab!reader

wc: 6,080

mdni -> warnings: drinking, talk of religion/purity, insecurity (also apologize for the text message section pls forgive me)

***You just shrugged, trying to swallow the nerves and unending guilt seeping into your heart. 

Watching as the other four around you engaged in conversation about school and awful professors, you spaced out and twisted the ring on your finger. 

You felt those eyes on you again, yet you forced yourself to ignore them.***

November 7, 8:46 pm. 

Pushing on your e-brake after a few tries at parking on the street, you turned your car off and sat in silence. 

Driving two hours south, remembering every crossroad and stoplight until you reached the campus outskirts. 

Shoko was your other half for over ten years, torn apart in early August over college decisions. Against your will, your parents forced you to attend the same college your mother did, an all-women’s Christian school two hours north. 

She stayed close to home, attending the state school you wished you could have gone to. 

In the span of four months, you felt your ties begin to fall loose, grip slipping on what once was inseparable friendship. 

Raised polar opposites, you worried things would play out like this. She wasn’t restricted by the confines of religion and curfews, expectations of purity and innocence. Being watched at nearly every angle, only free on the nights spent at her house. 

You were riddled with guilt every time, knowing you shouldn’t have disobeyed. 

Yet here you stood, two hours away from the dorm your parents believed you were in, certain you were still a rule-following girl, keeping your grades and in bed by nine. 

But for the first time, you were at a random house two hours south, for a birthday party you were invited to two days prior. 

Three deep breaths, a small black gift bag, and the lump in your throat, you opened your door and decided there was no going back. 

Too many cars were parked outside, more wrapped around the block.  Seriously? 

 The door was already propped open, music you didn’t recognize playing from whole house speakers. 

A few dozen faces you didn’t recognize, nothing you imagined it would be. Underdressed, underprepared. You could tell from a mile away that you had never been to a college party, or any party for that matter. 

“There she is!” Your beloved brunette threw her arms around you, smelling of bottom shelf liquor and cigarettes. “I missed you,”. 

The comfort of her arms and the smell of cigarettes was enough to make you feel safer, calmer than you were alone in the doorway. 

“I missed you too,” you wrapped your arms back around her, squeezing her a little tighter. “You undersold the size of all…this,”. 

“To be fair, I had no idea. This was all Gojo’s doing,” she pulled back, taking you in. You looked the same, so did she. The only difference was her hair being a smidge longer than you remembered. 

“Who?” You tilted your head, stomach dropping at the notion of her new friends. You knew she had them, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. 

“C’mon,” she grabbed your free hand, ushering you through the small groups of people talking far too loud for your liking. 

You followed her down a hallway, dimly lit and seemingly endless. Met with a smaller version of the living room, carpet floors and brand new furniture. A group of five sat around each other on the floor, backs rested on whatever furniture was closest to them. 

A few people you’d recognized from her instagram were scattered about, the girls whispering and pointing towards the two boys sitting next to each other, seemingly polar opposites. 

One with piercing blue eyes, only visible when his sunglasses slipped down his face just a little. Sunglasses inside? 

The one next to him had his hair pulled back tightly into a bun, better than you could ever do on your own. A few pieces in the front hung on his face, trimmed perfectly and shiny despite being so dark. 

One of those has to be her boyfriend, right? 

Another girl sat adjacent, long hair pulled to either side over her shoulders, bangs just above her eyebrows. 

A blonde boy with hair that was fit for 2006 covered one side of his face, sat next to the happiest brunette boy you had ever seen. 

Complete opposites, yet you could see the blonde blush every time the ball of sunshine next to him spoke. 

“Finally, the maiden has arrived,” she bowed jokingly, slightly upset that you were a little later than expected. I’m sorry, it took me thirty minutes to actually leave in the first place.  

“Y/N? Huh, you really do exist,” the blue-eyed boy stood, offering you his hand. “I’m Gojo,” he smiled, dropping his sunglasses enough for you to get a good look at his eyes. 

“You planned this whole thing, right?” You looked around, cheap liquor bottles on the entertainment center, solo cups and a sharpie next to them. 

“He went overboard,” the boy who sat next to him adjusted as he sat back down, shooting him the most annoyed look you had ever seen. He gets it. 

“I see that,” you laughed under your breath, glued to Shoko like your life depended on it. 

“Since they won’t do it,” Shoko rolled her eyes, glaring at them. “That’s Nanami,” she pointed to the blonde, too lost in his own thoughts to realize what was happening. “That’s Haibara,” the puppy-dog boy waved, also clueless to your existence until his name was said. 

The other girl, timid in nature, waved at you without a word. “That’s Utahime,”. 

You nodded, waving at all of them politely. 

“C’mere, we have some catching up to do,”. Grabbing your hand once again, she drug you out to the back patio without giving you a choice. 

“Two agendas for the night, and I might need your help,” she looked you dead in the eyes, the most serious you had seen her in a long time. “Well, three. But I only need your help with two,”. 

“Okay?” scared of what she was about to say, and even more scared about the one she wouldn’t speak about. 

“One, we’re getting Nanami to confess to Haibara. Suguru said he’s been oddly attached to him since high school,”. 

“Suguru?” I’m assuming it was the boy with dark hair who sat next to Gojo. 

“The annoyed one with the bun,” she rolled her eyes. “Sorry. Anyways, objective two. I’m trying to see if Utahime's into girls,”. 

“Okay? Why?” I don’t think that really matters, I’m sure she would tell you if she wanted to? 

“I like her, dumbass,”. She sighed, looking at you like you had nothing behind your skull. 

“You like girls, and I’m just finding out about this?” 

“I-”. She sighed, now avoiding eye contact. “I didn’t know I did until I met her. It’s eating me alive, dude,”. 

“Okay, well,”. You felt awkward still holding the gift bag, wishing you had set it down inside. “Two objectives then,” you collected yourself, not sure how you were going to get any of that to actually happen. 

“What’s the third one?”. The thought was eating you alive, uncomfortable with not knowing everything. 

“That one is a secret, trust,” she winked at you, before you were tugged back inside. 

You set the bag behind the bottles, hiding it slightly hoping that a stranger wouldn’t take it on their way out. 

“Here,”. Utahime handed you a cup with your name written on it, filled with something you weren’t familiar with. “It’s vodka, orange juice and sprite,”. 

“Oh, thank you,”. You offered her a warm smile, trying to hide the fact that you had only drunk liquor once, right before you said your goodbyes and left home. 

“Sit,”. Shoko patted the spot next to her, filling the space between her and Nanami. Directly across from Gojo and Suguru, avoiding the eyes you could feel burning into your flesh from one of them. 

You obliged wordlessly, trying not to wince at the heavy pour sitting in your cup. 

“King’s cup?” She asked, more demanding than questioning. 

“On it,” Nanami responded before she was done speaking, standing up quickly, looking for a brief escape. 

“What’s king’s cup?” You whispered into her ear, trying not to make it obvious. 

“Just watch, you’ll get the hang of it,” She swayed slightly side to side, nearly bumping into you each time. 

You kept your mouth shut as she recapped the rules for everyone, shuffling the deck of cards. 

2, you. 3, me. 4, floor. 5, guys. 6, girls. 7, heaven. 8, date. 9, rhyme. 10, categories. Jack, thumbs. Queen, questions. King, rule. First card to pop the tab and that person has to down it. 

That’s a lot of rules. I don’t know what half of them mean. 

You pulled out your phone, looking up the rules so you wouldn’t forget, turning your brightness down as low as possible. 

“I’ll start!” She excitedly grabbed the first card from the deck, a 5. “Drink bitches,” she laughed, sliding the card gently under the tab. 

Turns went clockwise, leaving you last. 

Utahime pulled an ace. 

“Fuuuuck,” Shoko groaned, knowing she was the last one. Luckily, Utahime didn’t take forever, her drink running out before long. It was painful, consuming your drink faster than you wanted to. 

You planned on driving back tonight, one drink at most. I have a feeling I’ll be leaving a lot later than I want to. 

Suguru went next, pulling an 8. With a slight smirk on his face, he placed the card down, eyes glaring into you. “Y/N, you have some catching up to do,”. 

The most you could do was laugh under your breath, shaking at the fact you would have to keep eyes on him at all times from now on to avoid any extra attention. 

Within a single rotation, you had all had downed a minimum of two drinks, another bottle down as Utahime poured heavier each time. 

You pretended to drink a few times, before Shoko caught you on the next waterfall round. 

Faster than you expected, the world began to slow just slightly, enough to make you panic just a little. 

Nanami placed his card under the tab, a slight pop from the millimeters pushed under the tab. Wordlessly, he pulled the cards away, opening it all the way and downing it much faster than you would have. 

**** 

10:49 pm. 

Your vision was beginning to become fuzzy, hands trembling under the pressure of a game of truth or dare, suggested by the birthday girl nonetheless. This is our chance to check off those objectives. 

It started slow, general questions that eased everyone into confessing things they had never spoken about before. Who they lost their virginity to, who was their first love, their deepest fears, showing their search history, their preferred porn. 

While Shoko was busy interrogating Gojo, Nanami leaned his head on your shoulder, whispering to you. 

“Can I ask you something?” His voice was timid, unsure and barely noticeable. You nodded your head, and he pulled out his phone. “Number,” he urged his phone towards you, the low battery notification popping up before you could type. 

Adding your contact, he immediately texted you, your phone open and awaiting his message. 

Saving his contact right away before you forgot, you read the message he sent, somehow without a single grammatical issue. 

nanami 

Do you think Haibara likes me? 

As more than friends? Am I 

crazy? Or just drunk? 

Don’t tell anyone else. 

Please. 

y/n

If you like him drunk, you like him 

sober as well. 

Do you want me to try and ask 

him? 

Or something else? 

nanami

Maybe? I just don’t know. 

What am I supposed to do? 

y/n 

I’ll help you, just trust me, 

okay? 

He nodded his head, still hanging on your shoulder. You didn’t mind, feeling a little more grounded knowing he trusted you, at least in his drunken state, with such a serious question. 

y/n

Pick dare when I get it next. 

I’ll help you out. 

Again, he just nodded, fidgeting with his hands before sitting upright. You still felt eyes on you, deciding to meet them with your alcohol-induced confidence you had never felt before. 

Geto’s eyes met yours as you raised your head, unblinking and filled with something you quite couldn’t place. Weighted in jealousy, mixed with lust, eyebrow raised in annoyance. You couldn’t figure out what he was feeling, never met with this before. 

“Y/N, truth or dare?” Shoko asked you through slurred words, cheeks flushed. 

“Truth,”. I’m too scared to pick dare. 

“Have you lost your virginity yet?” Her smile was a little dirtier than you’ve ever seen, eyes glued to the ring on your finger. It physically pulled you back, your spine pushed into Nanami’s shoulder. You bitch. You know the answer to this. 

Do I lie? No, lying’s bad. My ring gives it away, but do they all know what it means? 

You sat there in deafening silence, everyone’s eyes glued to you. 

“Not yet,”. You mumbled, turning your body towards Nanami instead of pressing against it. “Nanami, truth or dare?” 

You watched as he battled his response, wanting to trust you but still scared. Looking at Shoko who had just come out of the storage closet with Utahime before asking you a question, Geto trying to stir the pot without knowing it was what she wanted all along. 

Her face was flushed, Utahime’s far more red than hers. Both of their lips were slightly swollen, a little glossier than before.

“Dare,” his eyes were glued into yours, unblinking and terrified. 

“I dare you to do what Shoko and Utahime just did with Haibara,” you felt sick as the words spilled out of your mouth, unsure how else to get them to talk away from the rest of us. 

You watched as they looked at each other, both faces running red. 

“C’monnnnn,” Shoko egged them on, body leaning into Utahime. 

Haibara stood, offering his hand to Nanami as he did so. 

He shot you a horrified look, unsure what to think of you anymore. 

y/n 

Just ask him. You don’t have to 

actually do anything. 

I believe in you. 

You watched him glance at your message, eyes softening just a little. 

“You’re a little instigator,” Shoko pushed you, as if she had nothing to do with the situation. I would have never done that if you didn’t have a certain agenda. Don’t blame this on me. 

You just shrugged, trying to swallow the nerves and unending guilt seeping into your heart. 

Watching as the other four around you engaged in conversation about school and awful professors, you spaced out and twisted the ring on your finger. 

You felt those eyes on you again, yet you forced yourself to ignore them. You didn’t know what he wanted, but you weren’t about to figure it out. 

5 minutes later, Gojo knocked on the door, ready to continue the game before he got too bored. 

The two emerged with slight smiles glued to their faces, red blushes across their noses and slightly tousled hair. Holy shit. That actually worked? 

As if nothing happened, you zoned out as a few more dares ran around the circle, no one picking truth anymore. 

“Suguru, truth or dare,” Shoko was completely slurring her words, head fully rested in Utahime’s lap. 

“Dare,” he answered without a second to waste, catching your attention. 

“Closet, you and y/n,” she insisted, instead of just daring. 

What? Excuse me? 

You’ve got to be kidding me. 

“Let’s go,” he nodded his head towards the now open door, awaiting you to stand in turn. 

You agreed wordlessly, knowing this was something you couldn’t back out of. Shooting terrified eyes at Shoko, who only winked at you in turn, mumbling nothing to the boys with still flushed faces. This was fucking objective number three. 

A click of a door being shut, closer in proximity than you had ever been with a man. 

“Don’t look so scared, it’s okay,” his voice was beautiful, smooth and steady. His head was tilted slightly, face flushed and lips wet with bottom shelf liquor. 

You couldn’t do anything but nod, terrified but refusing to show it. He’s gonna think I’m an idiot. 

He kept his eyes glued on yours, making sure you were still okay with his lips centimeters from yours. 

“Shoko never told us she had such a pretty friend,” you could feel his lips curl into a smile before pressing them into yours. 

You didn’t reject, worried you would cause an issue. 

His lips grew needier, his hand caressing the side of your face. 

An unfamiliar feeling pooled under your jeans, skin running hot. 

What the fuck is going on? 

Following his lead, you just kissed him back, trying your best to match his rhythm. 

Is this a sin? 

What else am I supposed to do?

His hand trailed down your body, until his fingers were digging into your hips, trying to pull you even closer. 

“Alright don’t make me an aunt!”  Shoko knocked on the door, scaring you straight out of your skin. 

“We’re not finished yet,” he whispered in your ear before opening the door. 

What the hell just happened? I shouldn’t have come. 

The rest of the night was a blur, watching as Shoko grew closer and closer to Utahime with each drink, unsure how they could get any closer without stripping, Nanami and Haibara the same. Gojo passed out mid-conversation, words fumbling over each other. 

Your thoughts spun at a million miles an hour, still trying to comprehend what you let him do to you. 

You don’t remember much else, now sitting outside by yourself in the backyard. You bummed one of Shoko’s cigarettes, wondering why she loved them so much. 

In turn, they just made you sick. 

****

November 8, 2:15 am. 

Sitting on the bathroom tiles, the world was spinning just a little too slowly. 

Too many drinks, that single cigarette pushing you over the edge.  

Your blood content was so much higher than the legal limit, leaving you stuck and frustrated . 

So much for driving back tonight. 

You stood up, mindlessly running your hands under cool water. 

I just need to eat something. I should be good then. Right? That’s how that works, right?

You opened the bathroom door quietly, trying to find your way to the kitchen without tripping over anything, or anyone for that matter.

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to run away,” a sickly sweet voice crawled up the side of your neck, sticking to your nerves like honey. Suguru. 

“Why does it matter? Don’t tell me you’re attached already,” you didn’t turn to face him, worried the bite in your voice would falter with eye contact, getting stuck behind the lump in your throat. We are not losing our virginity on a one night stand, are you serious? That’s a blatant sin. There’s no coming back from that. 

“So what if I am?” He peppered light kisses on your exposed shoulder, trailing up towards your ear at an excruciatingly slow pace. 

As if he had your body attached to strings you were unable to control, your head tilted slightly, exposing more of your burning skin to him as an apology. 

“C’mere,” he grabbed your hand, gentle in force but demanding in aura. 

Following behind him without a choice, his body blocking any light that could be radiating in front of him. 

Your thoughts were spinning a million miles an hour, caught between the devil on one side and the angel on the other. 

A twist of a handle, the switch of a light. Of course there’s a spare bedroom. 

Before you could open your mouth, he dimmed the light with a dial by the switch, just light enough to see what was right in front of you. 

He pulled you in, quietly shutting the door and locking it behind you. “Don’t tell me you don’t wanna finish what we started,”. He twisted a lock of your hair in his fingers, as if he knew you wouldn’t say no to him. 

It’s not that I don’t want to, I just… Is this right? Was this Shoko’s plan all along? How do I come back from this?

“And if I do?” What am I saying? I know nothing about this man. Why is the devil taking over? Is it the liquor? 

Without even trying, your back was against the wall, the only thing visible were his sadistic eyes peering down at you. One hand on each side right above your head, the smell of his cologne the only thing you could focus on. 

As if the universe would shatter if he waited another moment, his lips crashed onto yours, stealing the small amount of air from your lungs. 

Your index fingers found  their way to his belt loops, unconsciously pulling his body closer to yours. 

Your lips remembered each other like they were made for one another, working in perfect harmony. Tongues grazing over one another, his still saturated in the sweetness of Utahime’s makeshift bartending, yours cursed with the slight taste of cigarettes stuck in your mouth. 

He tugged on your bottom lip, eyes meeting yours before he let go. The space felt cold, felt wrong without his lips glued to yours. 

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he whispered, trailing his tongue up the side of your neck. His breath was heavy, it was needy. 

It felt like an eternity, his lips centimeters from your ear, your brain melted by the heat his body provided alone. 

“Prove to me that this is gonna be worth my time,” you swallowed your doubts and filled it with false confidence, hoping he wouldn’t see right through your blatant facade. 

Shaky hands, unsteady breathing, inability to figure out where to even put your hands. 

What the hell am I doing? 

You felt him laugh quietly against you, his hands moved to your hips, pulling you away from the wall. 

A few blinded steps and he was looming over you, back pushed into the plush of the comforter. Your lungs were in your throat, your heart was somewhere missing on the floor behind you. 

“I knew I’d get to ruin you,” he uttered under his breath, eyes so dark the hair on the back of your neck stood up. 

He’s an entirely different man like this. A sinner at heart. 

Without a second to waste, he stole any air you had lingering behind your swollen lips, hand trailing down your body. 

As if it was primordial second nature, you began to ache waiting for something more. His hand danced around your clothed cunt, knowing he had you in his hands like putty. 

It took every ounce of strength you had not to buck your hips into him, to fill your lust for warmth to meet the puddle you had since created in a moment’s notice. 

He unbuttoned them with the same hand, tugging on the zipper without faltering his rhythm with your tongue. 

He slipped his hand under the waistband of your underwear, not bothering to undress you any further. His fingertips were freezing against the claustrophobic heat your untouched sex had created. 

His middle finger gently danced around your already puffy folds, your breath hitching with every faint movement. With gentle repetitive circles, his thumb found your clit with ease, faster than you would have found it yourself. 

“You’ve never been touched, have you?” his words were slightly slurred, voice lower than it was when you had met him. It was thick, it was overwhelming. A smirk had crawled onto his face, wheels spinning behind his blacked out eyes. 

You shook your head, unable to form coherent words as his fingers sped up, thumb keeping pace while his middle and ring danced around your entrance. 

He watched you ache for his fingers inside you, desperate for more. The need for sin outweighing your guilty conscience. 

He watched your eyes roll back as he slipped just his middle finger inside you, drawing illicit whimpers out of the bottom of your lungs. 

“Shhhhh, if you can’t be quiet I’ll have to stop,” he sped up, enjoying the struggle present in your widened eyes and bitten lip. 

Without warning he slipped another in, tighter than you imagined it would be. You watched his tongue glide across his top teeth, nearly drooling at the sight of such an untouched body being tainted by the minute. 

With a quick release, he pulled his fingers out of you and you watched as he put them both in his mouth, a sinister laugh bubbling in his throat. 

“I knew you’d taste good,” he grabbed the waist of your jeans, yanking them off of you before you could agree. 

The air was frigid, far colder than the tips of his fingers just were. Yet your skin burned against it, your scalding blood fighting against the air for god knows what reason. 

You watched him pull his shirt over his head with one single move, tossing it beside your head. Without breaking eye contact for a split second, you watched as he fell to his knees, littering kisses down the plush of your thighs, slowly pushing your legs further apart. 

Before you fell down into the depths of self-consciousness, begging for you to cover up and never let his face get that close, you felt his heavy breath against your throbbing clit, his eyes still glued to your face. 

Terrified to forget what you tasted like, he released any restraints he had on his desires. Covering your mouth with one hand, gripping the bedding with the other, the rutting of your hips was out of your control. 

Too drunk on his repetitive motions, pressure making your core ache in need for more. Too drunk on him drinking up your innocence, savoring it for the rest of eternity. 

“M-More,” you whined as quietly as possible, praying he would grant your wish. 

“More what? Use your words,” he came up for air, face flushed and his hair beginning to fall from the tight bun he wore so effortlessly. 

“I-I just need m-” you cut yourself off, hand over mouth to stifle the whimpers his fingers drug out of you as he awaited your response. Head cocked to the side, toying with you as long as he could. 

“Suguru please,” you whined through gritted teeth, not exactly sure what it was you needed, praying he could figure it out before the ache became utterly unbearable. 

He rose from his knees, crawling on top of you, worried he could hear your heartbeat on the way up. 

“One more time,” he tilted your chin to look directly at him, thumb swiping over your lower lip. 

“Please, I’ll do anything,” you whined, looking up at him with innocently pleading eyes. 

His hand fell from your face, the only sound was his belt being undone. Placing it beside his shirt, just within arms reach. 

You watched as the veins in his arm strained with every movement, the shadow of the dim lighting caressing every inch of him. 

His jeans hit the floor, leaving him less dressed than you were. He was beautiful, not an imperfection in sight. 

He stood tall, pupils dark and lips glossy. He was strong, toned, completely out of your league. 

Does he actually want to do this with me? 

Surely there’s no way a man like him would really want anything to do with me. 

“Take it off,” he tugged at the hem of your shirt, demanding not asking. You obliged, sitting up enough to slide it over your head. “That too,” his eyes were glued to your chest, the only part of you still covered. 

You felt utterly exposed, as if he was able to see the blood flowing inside your veins. Unclasping the back of your bra, you slid it off your shoulders, awaiting further instruction. 

“Good girl,” he gently pushed you back down where you were, feet still dangling off the edge of the mattress. Two words made your core flutter, searching for something to hold on to. 

Your heartbeat was in your ears, ringing loud enough that you couldn’t even hear your own breathing. Pushing your thighs apart, pulling a gold foil package open with his teeth. 

You felt the burn as he slowly tried to slip inside you, struggling against the resistance of your unrelaxed muscles. 

“Relax, it’s okay,”. He cupped your cheek, a small effort to try and settle inside. His words were gentle, his eyes spoke otherwise. 

The glimmer of sin was stuck on you, shimmering with each welcomed inch. Wincing at each attempt, yet yearning for him to be swallowed up by you. 

“F-fuck,” he stuttered under his breath, tilting his chin toward the ceiling. “S-so fucking tight,”. His words were strained, trying his very best not to just rut his hips into you and bottom out as fast as he could. 

“M-more,” you practically whispered, scared of the consequences. You knew it would hurt, but the electricity shooting through every fiber of your being blurred your fears. 

Without a second of hesitation he slammed his hips into yours, dragging out an uncontrollable moan laced with pain. 

“Be fucking quiet,” his hand found your throat, restricting bloodflow just enough to make you feel dizzy.  

You nodded in obedience, his fingers pushing harder with each slam of your cervix. Your own hand covered your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the speed of light. 

Despite his urge to be quiet, the sound of your virginity being stolen could be heard three doors down. Sliding in and out as if he belonged inside you, a key inside a lock freeing you from the confines of purity. 

You forced your eyes from rolling, catching a glimpse of him restraining his own moans, jaw so tight you swore it might shatter any second. 

The nails of your free hand left crescent moon indents in him, dragging down into nearly bleeding scratches along his perfect skin. 

His hair falling in his face, a slight sheen of sweat, glistening off of him in the dimmed overhead light. His eyes were wide, pupils larger than you’d ever seen. 

“Flip over,” he nearly growled, not giving you a choice or a second to think. The side of your face pushed into the mattress, one of his hands forcing your arch higher. 

With fistfuls of bedding, your eyebrows cinched in hopes your lungs wouldn’t cause you to disobey. Slight whimpers caught in your throat, audible if you were close enough. 

The rhythmic slam of his hips against your ass were louder than your muffled whimpers, his breathing so hard you swore his lungs might explode. 

Only able to support yourself on the tips of your toes, a knot forming tighter than you could control tearing with each bruise of your cervix. 

An unfamiliar feeling, overwhelming beyond compare. A loss of feeling in your fingertips, a cold sweat settling against your spine, a product of the sheer electricity vibrating your bones. 

Your legs began to shake, your vision blurred as you tried to keep your cries inside, tangled in the unraveled rope inside you. 

Unconsciously pushing yourself into him, fingers nearly breaking from your grip on the comforter your face had become familiar with. 

“I didn’t say you could finish,” he whispered with a bite in his voice, sinister enough to send a shiver of guilt down to your toes. 

Without a second to waste, his hand that was once pushing your lower back into the edge of the mattress found its way up the nape of your neck, grabbing a handful of hair from their roots. 

Using his leverage, he pulled your body closer to his, cutting off more oxygen than his grip on your throat did. 

He slowed his pace, dragging his movements enough to drive you mad. 

“You will beg next time, understand?” His grip tightened, not giving you a chance to deny his rule. 

With more force than before, he slammed into you without any regard for your own comfort. Your cunt was swollen, violated for minutes on end relentlessly. 

Your hips ached, his grip stronger than you imagined, compression with every declaration of ownership. 

The only thing suppressing your cries was the sheer lack of oxygen, eyes forced to the plain ceiling above you. You could feel his heavy breathing scorching your neck, tipping you over the edge. 

He hit a new angle, one you didn’t know existed. It forced the unraveled knot inside you to tie once again, stronger and painful to keep contained. 

“S-Su-Suguru please,” you begged in strained whispers, eyes shut so hard colored spots appeared behind your eyes. 

“Please what?” he taunted, hearing the sadistic smile formed on his lips. 

“P-Please,” your voice was strained enough you weren’t sure if you could beg without letting the neighborhood know his name. Without letting everyone know the last bit of your innocence was gone, losing it to someone you had met hours before. “Please let me finish,”. 

“Not yet, you haven’t earned it,” he growled in your ear, primal in nature.  

He shoved you back into the mattress, grip released from your hair in relief. 

You heard the metal of his belt, your hands forced behind your back. Without a second to waste, your wrists were losing feeling from the  grip of makeshift handcuffs. 

With an increase in pace, you could feel your insides snapping in half, his fingers finding your swollen bud. One hand held the center of the belt, yanking your arms back just enough so that you couldn’t resist anything at all. He drew circles on your clit with his free hand, elicit sounds from your previous orgasm gliding him in with more ease than before. 

Muffled noises crawled their way out, losing control of your lungs in a blurred state of overstimulation. Unable to control anything, trembling under the weight of too many heightened senses. 

Your eyes welled with saltwater, burning your lash line as your throat felt as if it was closing. The only thing you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears, blood clouding your brain as your face flushed red. 

You felt the last of your purity slip away, him taking it as you finished in unison. He didn’t try and stifle your pleas, too focused on his own release he had been restraining from the beginning. 

Your knees collapsed as he slid out of you, cold and vacant as his body slipped away. 

Completely lost, you laid exactly where you were, unable to get out of the belt handcuffs. 

“Oh fuck, sorry,” he apologized, voice smooth once again. Quickly releasing you, he watched as you rubbed your free wrists, aching from the stiff leather. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you tried to fix your hair, flyaways everywhere. Your throat was dry, an ache settling in every single bone. 

“C’mon,” he helped you stand, walking the few short steps to the bathroom tucked inside. 

He helped you clean up, gently placing your shirt back over you as you struggled with unsteady hands. 

He left you alone to grab some filtered water from the kitchen, running cold tap water over your hands in the bathroom to calm yourself down. 

Smudged mascara, swollen lips, a vacant look in your eyes. Purity ring slipping off of your trembling hands, a reminder that you no longer could adorn that sign of innocence anymore. 

Pulling the ring off of your finger, you found your way back to the bed, crashing at the speed of sound between dead adrenaline and sheer lack of brainpower. 

Placing the ring on the nightstand beside you, you searched for your phone, fallen on the floor in the heat of the moment. 

4 am, fucking fantastic. 

A lack of notifications, other than a text from your roommate asking when you would be coming back. 

“Here,” he appeared out of thin air, handing you a glass of water with a few ice cubes floating inside. 

“Thank you,” you almost whispered, the ache now settling in your vocal cords.

He tucked you into bed, ensuring you were okay, leaving the light dim incase you needed anything. 

What happens now? Can we ever see each other again? 

**** 

“Fucking hell,” you rubbed your forehead, light from the early November sun shining through the partially cracked blinds. 

You felt around for your water, downing it like you hadn’t had a drink in days. Placing the cup back on the nightstand, you found a note tucked under your phone. 

That ring is mine now. Call me sometime. 

Suguru 

His number was scribbled on the bottom, a smiley face drawn next to it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

tysm for checking this out! this has been on my ao3 for quite some time, but was encouraged to post here for our silly little month of october. ᥫ᭡。

also, thank @justwolosers for getting me back to this <3

[bumblesimagines]

Under The Moonlight

Request: Yes or No

Don't kill me pls I love y'allllllllll if it helps i have three parts already writtennnnn! look at the pretty man

CW/TW: Violence, implied homophobia, Christianity, bashing Christianity (idk if that should be a warning), Vikings being Vikings, men being men

Apologies to any ppl from Greenland or people with a lot of knowledge on Norse culture and their gods, I will get some things wrong.

~~~

The sail to Kattegat had proven to be a difficult feat, though most trips across open ocean typically were. The ocean had shown mercy at first; when the waves would only brush against the side of the boat gently, beckoning curious eyes to gaze into its depths.

But upon sailing closer to Kattegat, a storm began brewing above. The sky turned a dark shade of gray as the waves began to grow, slamming against the boat harder and harder, threatening to capsize it with each powerful hit. The other boats traveling alongside them began to disappear until the drenched man could no longer see more than a foot ahead of him through the pouring rain. With the roaring waves and claps of thunder hounding his senses, (Y/N) could hardly hear the instructions his siblings shouted in an attempt to keep the boat from sinking into the darkness below. But in the end, Leif's experience allowed everyone to escape the storm without losing a single person.

Rising from the wooden seat, (Y/N) stared at the harbor settled between the mountains, a horn blaring through the air to signal their arrival. The town appeared large and heavily occupied. Far more occupied than he had expected. Kattegat was a seemingly well-known town but the man hadn't expected to see so many Vikings gathered in just one harbor. His half-sister seemed to share similar thoughts. She stared at the town, gaze lingering for a moment before she looked back toward her brothers with uncertainty but after meeting (Y/N)'s eyes, her lips pulled into a warm smile and her shoulders relaxed.

Freydis Eriksdotter. Only younger than him by a few weeks. With her long blonde hair and tender blue eyes, Freydis had been a shining light in his darkest moments. While she physically resembled her mother, her stubborn and fierce personality could be attributed to their stubborn and infamous father, Erik Thorvaldsson. She had proven to be the perfect combination of her parents; her idle hands that could weave thread and mend injuries also knew how to handle a sword. And with a father like theirs, it was imperative they knew how to defend themselves, from animals and people alike. 

"Stay close and out of trouble," A voice rumbled from behind him as the boat neared the docks.

Then there was his older half-brother, Leif Eriksson. With his broad structure, long brown hair, and bright blue eyes, Leif resembled their father in more ways than one. And yet, he tried to be everything their father wasn't; gentle, forgiving, and merciful. He and Freydis easily adapted to (Y/N)'s presence after his mother brought him to their home. They gleefully took him in, calling him their brother within days and growing to love him within weeks. Leif proved to be the older brother anyone could ever wish for.

"I'm not the one you should be telling that to." (Y/N) muttered, folding his arms over his chest and feeling the boat slow to a stop. The Vikings on the docks were quick to help secure the boat and one took a moment to examine the condition of it and its passengers. 

"How in Odin's name did you avoid the storm?" He questioned curiously as he rested his hands on his hips

Brushing off his question, Leif addressed the man. "Did any ships from the west make it in last night?" 

"No, just two ships before the storm." He answered and nodded toward the shore, drawing (Y/N)'s attention to it. Littered across the sand were bodies, flags, and pieces of wood. Few searched through the wreckages for valuables or familiar faces while others treaded into the waters to pull the corpses onto land. A saddening sight for anyone. Lives lost to the rage of the ocean. Leif studied the shore and exhaled softly, shaking his head lightly before turning to his crew. 

"Toke, Ulf, you stay here with the boats and resupply," Leif instructed the two men and then turned his sights onto siblings. "Freydis, (Y/N), check with the captains at the harbor. The rest of you will come with me to search the town." 

Freydis frowned but before she could protest, (Y/N) gently grasped her arm. "The time will come." He assured her gently. Freydis pursed her lips and nodded, gazing after their brother as he and the others disappeared into the crowded town. She heaved a sigh and turned back to look at their messy boat.

"You know, I do not need you watching over me," Freydis muttered and retrieved some more rope from the floor, squinting up at their sail to check for anything else that had possibly gotten loose in the strong winds.

"It's my job as your big brother." (Y/N) reminded teasingly, a grin appearing on his face when she scoffed softly and rolled her eyes. Freydis expertly tied the rope in her hands around the mast, glancing at the men as (Y/N) took the things Toke and Ulf had quickly retrieved. (Y/N) looked over their supplies, ensuring they had everything they needed. 

"Where are you from?" Someone called out, pulling the Greenlanders' attention away from their tasks and onto the man watching them from the dock.

He was tall with broad shoulders and muscular arms. His brunette hair had been tied back into a bun, allowing them to gaze at his bearded face and dark eyes. He regarded the crew with mere curiosity and a boyish smile that screamed trouble, exuding an aura of friendliness. But even with his kind eyes and relaxed posture, (Y/N) couldn't find it in himself to trust him. They were newcomers on strange land. Easy targets for vultures. 

Slipping his fingers around his sheathed dagger, (Y/N) allowed his eyes to sweep over the man once more, taking note of the axe holstered to his hip. When he turned his attention back onto the stranger's face he found the man already watching him. The brunette tilted his head to the side expectantly, presumably awaiting an answer from him but he received silence in return as (Y/N) turned his back to him and focused on taking count of their food supply, or rather lack of.

Chuckling softly under her breath, Freydis peered over her shoulder and answered, "Greenland."

"What kind of journey was it?" The man inquired, gaze lingering on the quiet man.

"Long. Five weeks. No stops." Freydis answered once more and watched the man closely as he finally tore his eyes away from her brother and stepped closer to asses the boat. Upon finishing with the mast, she finally faced him.

"Five weeks across open ocean in this?" He peered down at Freydis with twinkling eyes and a wolfish grin. "I'm impressed."

"Then you are easily impressed." 

"Not true. My standards are quite high." The man objected playfully, watching his sister with an all too familiar look. (Y/N) had been no stranger to that dance, especially when it came to Freydis and the other women of the crew. And seeing as his sister appeared rather taken with the handsome stranger, (Y/N) doubted she'd only flirt with him. 

"So are mine." Freydis pulled herself up onto one of the seats, wrapping her hand around one of the ropes attached to the mast to maintain her balance. She smirked at him, blatantly looking him over to feed into their little flirtatious game. "Are you from Kattegat?"

"No, from Ringerike. I'm Harald Sigurdsson." Harald spoke his name proudly, almost as if he were important. It made (Y/N)'s eyes roll. "Who are you?"

"My name is Freydis." The blonde answered before motioning toward (Y/N) with a nod. "And this is my brother."

"Ah." Harald leaned back, hand resting on the hilt of his axe as he looked back at (Y/N). "Then, I believe after such a long voyage, I would think a hot bath would sound good to your sister." Bold words slipped from his mouth and (Y/N) found himself raising his brows at him, hearing Ulf and Toke snickering quietly from their spots. Freydis looked at her brother with widened eyes but the corners of her lips twitched upward in amusement. Meeting her gaze, (Y/N) knew Leif would be far from pleased if he allowed her to leave the boat with a stranger, but he'd be unable to blame (Y/N) for it. Freydis had a habit of doing whatever she wanted, with and without permission. So, with the knowledge Freydis could easily defend herself if it came to it, (Y/N) hesitantly nodded.

"Well then," Freydis turned back to Harald and stepped onto the dock, turning her chin up at him and quirking a pale brow. "Where could I get one of these hot baths?"

"Come." Harald chuckled, shooting the man one last glance before he placed his hand on Freydis's lower back and led her down the dock until they disappeared from view.

"With that attitude, he's asking for someone to dig an axe in his back," Ulf said as he stood up, casting a glance over the boat.

Shaking his head, (Y/N) looked at him and offered a smile. "We've come for other reasons." He reminded, watching Toke finish securing everything.

With the boat taken care of, the two men followed (Y/N) down the dock and looked around as he led them into town. Sellers shoved varying items in his direction, shouting off prices and rambling about their products. Amongst the perfumes, clothes, and weapons being sold, there were slaves. Shackled and shivering. (Y/N) felt his throat tighten at the sight of them.

"There's Liv!" Ulf pointed out and (Y/N) tore his gaze away from the slaves, turning his back to them as his friends slipped from the crowd one by one. 

"No luck." Yrsa sighed. Before (Y/N) could speak, another horn sounded off, signaling the arrival of more ships and it only took a moment for Lief to slip out of the crowd and join the group, looking over everyone with newfound determination.

"The cross belongs to an English Viking." He revealed, eyes searching for Freydis's familiar face and frowning when he didn't spot her. Turning to his brother questioningly, his frown only deepened when (Y/N) avoided his eyes and sheepishly rubbed the side of his neck.

"She left with someone. A so-called Harald Sigurdsson."

Sighing heavily, Leif nodded. "I'll find her. We'll meet up at the docks."

When Leif disappeared back into the crowd, (Y/N) faced the crew and motioned for them to start heading back. On the short walk to the docks, it began to rain lightly but the wind picked up considerably. They just couldn't seem to stay dry for long. It didn't take long for Leif and Freydis to join the crew, eyes trained on the ships sailing into the harbor. Upon getting closer, (Y/N) spotted two of the men on one of the ships, crosses dangling from their necks. Considering the loud cheering from the docks, the two were loved, perhaps even worshipped. 

"It's him," Freydis confirmed, looking back at her brothers when the men stepped off the ships. She looked back at the sound of a familiar voice and her eyes narrowed upon seeing Harald greeting them, appearing to know the men on a personal level. 

"Isn't that-"

"Yes." Freydis breathed, jaw clenching. Grasping the handle of her knife, Freydis took a step forward, ready to get her revenge on the man who had fled from justice. But she didn't get far before (Y/N) took her arm and pulled her back. Too many eyes, too many Christians. They'd see her coming from a mile away if she brazenly rushed at them and he doubted they'd only pray for her if she were caught.

"Not here," Leif told her, keeping an eye on the men as they strode deeper into town. Grunting softly, the blonde sheathed her knife and stepped back, eyes bright with rage. "Toke, Yrsa. Go get our things."

The men stopped briefly to eat, giving Toke and Yrsa enough time to gather everyones' belongings and bring them back, handing them off just as the men got on horses and began leaving town. The crew followed them out of town, keeping a safe distance away and being mindful of the other Vikings with the men. Leif led everyone into the dense forest, stepping over fallen logs and foliage as they climbed up the side of the mountain. A tiresome trek but a necessary one. Freydis needed to bring justice down on the man who had hurt her and her brothers had vowed on helping her. So, (Y/N) ignored the way his muscles ached for rest and marched on.

The winds lashed furiously on the mountain but it was the least of (Y/N)'s worries as he took in the sight below. A whole camp filled with more Vikings than he could count. Tents perched in just about every corner, horses roaming around, carts filled with supplies. It looked like an army preparing for something, but what exactly? (Y/N) swallowed and looked at Leif, taking in the concentrated look on his face.

"We'll set up camp in the forest." Leif decided, turning to his equally perplexed and surprised friends. "We'll keep an eye on him until the time is right." Leif nodded to his sister and Freydis returned it, eyeing the camp one last time before she turned and began heading back down the mountain, the others following close behind and exchanging glances. (Y/N) strayed for a moment, looking over all the Vikings present. A need for so many warriors could only mean something big, something important.  Part of him didn't want to find out what it was.

Turning his attention away from the camp, he caught up with the others and headed down the mountain where they could rest until a solid plan was created. Yrsa and Ulf worked together to prop their furs on long sticks, Liv and Leif collected some sticks to create a small fire and Njal left to watch the camp. (Y/N) explored the forest, gazing up at the tall trees towering over them. While he was no stranger to a lush forest, he'd been used to seeing vast snow-covered plains for most of his life. He missed the openness of his home... He missed his parents and brothers. Sighing softly, he turned his sights onto the bright green brush and grass, searching for fallen branches and sticks to help feed the fire Liv and Leif had started. He'd have to take in the sights of nature another time. They had more important matters at hand. 

Returning to camp with a handful of sticks and crouching down by the fire, he set the pile down beside Liv and brushed his hands free of dirt. Liv gave him a thankful smile, picking up a few and tossing them into the fire, the crackle growing louder. (Y/N) lifted his head to look at the others, noting Skarde seemed awfully quiet and upset. Yrsa had settled down on a blanket made of furs whilst Ulf and Toke conversed and his sister sat by herself, looking out in the direction of the camp. She perked up at the sight of Njal, watching him return with a conflicted expression.

"He must be important. He hasn't come out of the main tent." Njal informed them, gaze cast onto the ground as glances were exchanged.

Running a hand over his face, Skarde shook his head and spoke shakily, fingers toying with the thread wrapped around his hand. "This changes things."

"This changes nothing," Freydis spoke, snapping her head toward him and narrowing her eyes when he scoffed.

"Really? What is your plan then? Go down there and simply take your revenge?" He questioned, raising a brow at her as she stood and faced him.

"If I have to, yes." Noticing the growing animosity, Leif stood up from his spot beside Liv, glancing between his sister and friend as they went back and forth, both Greenlanders growing more annoyed with each passing second.

Skarde slowly nodded in disbelief, rolling up the thread in his hands and tossing it to his feet. "I won't be a part of such a plan." He spat, pushing himself off the tree he'd been sitting against. 

"Then you break your oath to my father?" Leif furrowed his brows as he walked forward, placing himself between the two and staring up at him. (Y/N) rose up from his hunches and stepped around the brunette to stand beside his brother, briefly pulling Skarde's attention off his siblings and onto him. 

Clenching his jaw, Skarde spoke, "I didn't promise your father to be a part of foolishness."

"What do we know of this place?" Njal's deep voice interjected, his tone full of uncertainty. "Trees, cities, and giant armies? These Norse are not our people."

"They are Viking... Just like you." Freydis raised her brows, pointedly looking between Njal and Skarde as she spoke.

"No." Skarde asserted with a light shake of his head. "We are Greenlanders. As are you." He said, inhaling deeply before he continued. "Until this morning, no one among us had ever seen more than 40 people together in one place. Now, I look at more men than in Iceland and Greenland together. We must be able to admit that what we came here for is now hopeless." 

Silence fell over the crew and when nobody countered his argument, Freydis scoffed in disbelief and turned away from them, stalking off in the direction of the camp. (Y/N) didn't hesitate on following his sister through the foliage until they came across the tree line. Freydis stared out at the camp with crossed arms and a frown on her face. The crunching of leaves signaled Leif's presence, having followed his younger siblings as well.

"You shouldn't have stopped me at the harbor," Freydis muttered bitterly. "It would be done."

"And you would be dead," Leif stated bluntly, gazing out at the camp. 

"Then I'd be in Valhalla with the other Einherjar, feasting with Odin and the Gods. And Father would be proud."

"We are not here for Father, Freydis." (Y/N) spoke up, hand reaching out to gently touch the back of her arm. She looked down at his hand, her tense figure slowly relaxing at her brother's touch. "We came here for you. Besides, Father didn't think of-"

"What are you trying to tell me?" She asked defensively, tilting her head up to look into his eyes. "Do you believe it's hopeless? Because I will not stop until I get my revenge." 

"No, Freydis. We're asking you to trust us." Leif said, softening his gaze as he looked at his sister. Freydis swallowed and looked back at him, lips pressing together. She released a shaky sigh and nodded, loose curls bouncing against her speckled skin.

"I trust you."

"Good. Because I have a plan."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" (Y/N) questioned, eyeing the Vikings walking around with their weapons close to their sides and crosses hanging proudly from their necks. When night had fallen, Leif had pulled him away from the rest to take him to the camp. Leif wished to infiltrate the camp and figure out what exactly so many of their people had been gathered.

"If you'd like, you can return to camp," Leif glanced back at him, shoulder roughly bumping against another Viking walking by. (Y/N) stepped closer to his brother, listening to the soft prayers oozing from tents and groups of Vikings. Unease bubbled in his stomach. Too many Christians for his liking. Leif lifted his hand to his face, brushing back some hair before an older man suddenly reached out, snatching his wrist and staring at the tattoo Leif had on his wrist.

"What you doing over here?" He hissed quietly, voice thick with an English accent. He spared a look around before releasing Leif's wrist and glancing at (Y/N). "Come with me before one of these damn Christians catches sight of the both of ya." He sucked his teeth, shoving the brothers forward and away from the other Vikings. (Y/N) stumbled out onto an open area and looked back at the man, watching him warily glance back.

"If that Jesus bunch caught you two prowling around over there, you'd be lucky to get back." He shook his head, leading them toward a cart and pulling their hands up. He began stacking folded blankets and coats made of fur on their hands until the sound of drums began echoing through the air and everyone began heading in the direction of the sound.

"Stay close," Leif whispered to his brother, following the older man through the crowd. Men on horses led the way with their torches held in the air, only stopping once the crowd stood in front of those beating the drums. (Y/N) handed the blankets off to the older man, nodding to him and keeping close to Leif as they slipped through the crowd until they reached the front. A few Vikings stood on top of a hill overlooking the crowd. Harald Sigurdsson among them. He appeared to be quite important.

"Welcome, friends!" The man standing beside Harald began, voice echoing through the valley. Murmurs erupted through the crowd and a name seemed to be passed around: King Canute of Denmark.

"Over a hundred years ago, a great Viking army set off for England to avenge the death of Ragnor Lothrok. It achieved its goal. And after many great victories, our people were invited to settle into communities there. With time, we sent our loved ones to live and work there. The Danelaw became their home." King Canute spoke, allowing a brief moment of silence to pass as the information settled in. 

"A year ago, all that changed. And a slaughter began. A massacre. Unknown in the long history of our people. An attack. Not warrior to warrior, but waged on innocent women and children." The more he spoke, the rowdier the crowd got, murmurs growing louder. "Waged for only one reason; to cleanse England of our people. You have been summoned here for a purpose, to avenge the death of our people and to show the English that they cannot murder Vikings and expect us to do nothing!" The crowd erupted in cheers, swords being slammed against shields in support. (Y/N) shifted uncomfortably as shoulders bumped against his, adrenaline beginning to pump in the veins of those around him.

"Our ancestors would not. Ivar the Boneless and Bjorn Ironside would not. I will not. Will you?" The crowd roared their response. It was not in a Viking's blood to simply ignore an attack against themselves, against loved ones. But many of the Vikings present weren't there to avenge a loved one. A blind and unexpected attack was an easy way to bruise someone's ego. "You are here for your families! You are here for your honor! You are here because you are Vikings!" King Canute finished, hearing the overwhelming shouts and roars of agreement, metal swords slamming against shields. Leif and (Y/N) exchanged a look, arms brushing against each other and providing the brothers with some sense of comfort in a sea of furious men and women.

"We will fight the English." One man staggered forward, head turning to sneer at the others. "But not with Christians!" He bellowed, motioning toward them with his axe as others cheered in agreement. Despite the years, (Y/N) could feel his scar ache as he looked toward the gathered Christians, a certain disdain swirling in his chest. "Christians killed my family. They are my true enemy."

"And you are mine, Pagan." One of the Christian men responded, stepping forward from the rowdy crowd. "These men are nothing but idolaters. Worshippers of Satan!" 

With a war cry, the first man ran at the other, swinging his axe at him but his blow was blocked by the second man's shield. The two continued swinging at each other, urged on by both crowds alike. Swiftly going down the hill, Harald got in between them, blocking with his shield and swinging at the men in an attempt to push them away from each other. Releasing a cry when a sword cut him, Harald sneered at the men and spread out his arms to prevent them from attacking each other.

"Enough!" Harald snarled at them, heavy pants leaving him. He turned toward the first man, dropping his arms to his sides as he addressed him. "Jarl Gorm, you say you'll never fight with Christians but what am I? Did I not spend every summer of my youth with your family? Did you not love me like a son?" He questioned, whipping his head to look at the second man. "Jarl Nori, a pious Christian. I saw your sister the night of the massacre. What would she say about your refusal to fight with your brothers here? Would she not call you a coward?" Harald looked between the two before taking a step back and facing the crowd.

"That your God is Odin or Christ means nothing to me! Only your honor does! Only your courage does!" He shouted into the night. Heaving softly, he touched a hand to his sliced arm and lifted his blood-soaked fingers into the air. "This blood is not my blood. It is our blood, it is Viking blood! And it will always be!" His words garnered cries and shouts of agreement, flags swinging back and forth. The two men nodded to Harald and retreated to their previous spots in the crowd, content with keeping the peace for the time being.

"It is going to be a long night," Leif whispered as the cheers continued. (Y/N) could only sigh in return.

                    ➸        ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸

"Did you sleep at all?"

"You know very well I can't sleep around strangers." (Y/N) answered with a yawn, trying to push away the exhaustion clinging to his body. Leif frowned, using his fingers to comb his hair back into a bun but before he could lecture his brother, (Y/N) turned his back to him and looked out at the bustling Vikings.

"What now?"

"We find him and we keep an eye on him," Leif answered and walked forward, the sound of singing filling the camp as Vikings went about their day. Men and women collected supplies, heaving them onto carts and helping one another. (Y/N) searched for the man, eyes flickering from face to face, never allowing his gaze to linger to avoid attracting attention to them. Feeling fingers lightly tap his arm, he followed Leifs' gaze and spotted the man walking through the ground. However, before the two could follow, Leif's shoulder was roughly grabbed and his body turned to face a stranger.

"It's them, all right." The man nodded to his friends and sneered at the brothers. "Your father is Erik Thorvaldson, yes? Erik the Red?"

"And what is that to you?" Leif asked, eyeing the men around them. (Y/N) brought his hand to his dagger's handle, looking over his shoulder at the men behind them, their shields up to block them from leaving. 

"Our name is Becken. Your father killed our brother Sven." The man revealed, motioning between himself and the other Viking standing beside him.

"Our father's history has nothing to do with us." Leif retorted, reaching out to grab (Y/N)'s arm and gently push him forward, hoping to avoid a fight but one of the men cut in front of them, blocking them from getting too far and cockily grinning at them.

"Your father is a killer. Run away to escape justice. It has everything to do with you." The first man asserted bitterly. (Y/N)'s grip on the dagger tightened and he looked back at Leif, searching his face for permission to swing at the man in front of him. Leif grimaced and turned toward the man who had begun it, raising his brows.

"You're making a mistake." He warned.

Scoffing, the man in front of (Y/N) shook his head. "No, Eriksson. The mistake was yours." He declared, charging forward but before he could bring the sword down on the younger brother, (Y/N) grabbed his attacker's forearm and turned his body, slipping his dagger out while simultaneously elbowing the man directly in the nose. The man cried out in pain and stumbled backward, hand raising to touch his now bleeding nose. The pain, however, only fueled his rage and he charged again with an enraged cry. (Y/N) quickly dodged the following swing and slammed his foot into the back of his knee, sending the man toppling downward. He rolled over onto his back and attempted to get up but (Y/N) kicked his face, causing more blood to spill from his nose as his head slammed back into the grass. Retrieving the man's discarded axe from the ground, (Y/N) threw it at one of the men charging at his brother, successfully hitting him and causing the man to fall. 

"Brother!" Turning, (Y/N) caught the shield Leif tossed at him and blocked a swing from a sword, using the shield to shove the man onto the ground. He spun around and leaned back, narrowly getting cut by an axe swinging in his direction. Lifting his leg, (Y/N) kicked the man in the stomach and made him stumble backward, using his momentary loss of balance to charge forward and dig the dagger into his arm. Pulling it out and panting softly, (Y/N) stepped back and briefly pressed his back against Leif's.

The man that had attacked him first blindly charged, face soaked in red. (Y/N) raised the shield to block his punch and lowered it just as quickly, swinging the dagger at his face and cutting his cheek. Moving his hands down to the bottom of the shield, he swung it sideways and hit the side of the man's face, knocking him down again. When another one charged, he did similarly, aiming at his wrist and knocking the sword from their grasp. Releasing the shield and charging, (Y/N) tackled the man onto the grass and pinned his arms down with his knees, lifting his dagger above his head and bringing it down.

"Enough!" Leif called, and (Y/N) froze, blade frighteningly close to his attacker's eye. Panting heavily, (Y/N) peered over his shoulder and spotted his brother holding a sword to the first man's throat.

"Just like your father." The man cursed, spitting out some blood and saliva.

"You're wrong." Leif lifted the sword, using the side of it to knock him out. "If I were like my father, you'd all be dead." He breathed and turned toward (Y/N), tossing the sword aside and motioning for him to stand. (Y/N) looked down at the man writhing beneath him and huffed softly, standing up and trailing after Leif. 

"Taking another's life would've complicated things, (Y/N)," Leif scolded, looking back at him with a disappointed frown.

"They attacked first." (Y/N) argued with a huff. "They would've had it coming."

Sighing, Leif shook his head and looked forward. "You sound like Father." He muttered, leading his brother to a stream near the camp and crouching down by the water. (Y/N) joined him, letting the cool water wash his hands before he dipped his dagger in and cleaned it. Once satisfied, (Y/N) rose and wiped the blade against his pant leg, sheathing it and drying his hands on his pants. He caught sight of figures in his peripheral and gently kicked his brother's leg to catch his attention.

"Eriksson from Greenland. Not the sons of Viking warrior, Erik Thorvaldson, banished from Norway and Iceland for murder?" Harald tilted his head, regarding them with an amused smile. Leif stood up, shaking his hands off, and sharing a cautious glance with his brother.

"The same." He confirmed, eyes flickering to the men beside Harald. Most wore crosses.

"I suppose when you have a father like Erik the Red, you learn to fight like that." Harald chuckled, not catching the distaste that passed over Leif's features at his words.

"My name is Leif." He walked closer, tilting his head up to look at Harald.

"I'm Harald Sigurdsson. We met yesterday, though I didn't quite catch your brother's name." Harald said, tilting his head to look at (Y/N). His cocky and playful smirk made whatever respect (Y/N) had gained for him the night before wash away in an instant. His lip pulled back and he couldn't help but roll his eyes, a soft scoff escaping him. Harald merely chuckled at his distaste, eyes slowly raking over the Greenlander.

"I believe that's none of your business." (Y/N) responded, eyes trailing down from his face to the cross he wore. Harald's hand raised to toy with it, fingers wrapping around it and blocking it from view. (Y/N) lifted his gaze and met Harald's, holding eye contact for a moment before he looked away. Leif's brows furrowed slightly, glancing between his brother and Harald.

"His name is (Y/N)," Leif piped up after a moment of silence, climbing up the short hill to be at eye level with Harald. "We heard you last night. You're a good speaker. You moved many." 

"Did I move you?" Harald asked, eyes remaining on the younger brother. His lips quirked into a small grin when (Y/N) refused to meet his gaze, only begrudgingly getting closer when his brother motioned for him. Crossing his arms over his chest, (Y/N) looked back at the men and briefly looked into Harald's dark eyes. When neither brother responded, Harald finally tore his eyes away and looked at the rather perplexed Leif, hand dropping from his cross. "Freydis said you captained your boat all the way from Greenland. Could use good ship captains who can fight. I can promise great glory if you join us in England."

"Glory?" Leif repeated, curiously glancing back at (Y/N). "I thought you were going to England for revenge?"

"We are. But true Vikings always reach for glory. It's what defines us."

"Like I said, you're a good speaker. I'll think about it." Leif answered grimly, although his tone made his answer rather clear and obvious. Harald's jaw clenched but he nodded, watching the brothers brush past him. (Y/N) paused, reaching out to touch Harald's cross, studying the metal and designs carved into it. Harald reached up to pull his cross out of (Y/N)'s grip, pausing when their fingers brushed against each other. His eyes lowered to look down at their hands.

"I wish you luck with our sister. You'll need it." (Y/N) murmured, releasing the cross and joining Leif in heading back to camp. 

The rest of the day had gone by uneventfully as the army began moving toward Kattegat where Jarl Haakon allowed them to set up camp outside the walls of her city. She graciously opened the main hall for them, hosting a feast for the warriors ready to fight. (Y/N) and Leif wandered around the hall, keeping to the sides and mostly out of view as they waited for Freydis to slip inside and enact her revenge. A risky plan but they were aware of the dangers. Death is not the end, his mother would say to him whenever he grew afraid.

"There's Skarde." (Y/N) whispered upon spotting the man slipping into the hall. Just in time for another speech from King Canute.

"Friends!" He called from the table settled at the end of the hall, rising to his feet as the Vikings fell silent and turned toward the king. Leif walked forward, heading toward the other side of the hall as quietly as possible. (Y/N) remained on the other side, glancing at Leif as he kept to the wall but made sure to remain within their view, or rather Harald's view. It proved easier than expected seeing as Harald's eyes found him almost instantaneously.

"This is a historic occasion. Our thanks to Jarl Haakon for opening her city to our righteous cause. It is an honor to be here in Kattegat, in the great hall of Ragnar Lothbrok and his sons. To eat from the same table as Lagertha and all the heroes who came before. We are humbled and inspired by their legacy. But now is our time to make history. To show the cowards in England, that Vikings, despite our differences, are still one people. One heart. One soul." He concluded his speech and (Y/N) slipped out toward the middle of the room with Leif joining him midway as the Vikings dispersed. Finally meeting Harald's eyes, (Y/N) tilted his head at him and lifted a hand to his dagger, watching Harald's eyes narrow as they flickered to his hand. His eyes left the Greenlander for a moment.

"That's close enough, Greenlanders." One of the Christians who never seemed far from Harald spoke, stepping toward them and gripping Leif by the collar. Harald rose from his spot at the table and approached them as more men surrounded them. With his attention on the brothers, he didn't spot the cloaked figure descending upon the table with a knife in hand.

"Whatever you are planning, do not act on it. I'll kill you if I must." 

"We're not the ones you should be worried about." And then, a frightened scream broke the tension.