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nameless-ken · 17 hours ago

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Bucky Barnes Fic Recs Pt. 3 - Series

These series have scored my heart forever <3 thank you to all the amazing writer for gracing us with these stories for free!!

If anyone would rather not be apart of this list please let me know & I'll edit it.

Imagines/One-Shots fic recs: part one | part two

@wkemeup

Guiding Light: It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra. While you struggle to stay alive and hold your sanity, Bucky begins to lose himself to a darkness and gives into the soldier because he doesn’t know how to breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can. (13 PARTS)

@thebarneschronicles

Closer to Home: As you settle into your new role as the team’s “girl in the chair,” helping Sam and Bucky with their missions, you find yourself increasingly drawn to Bucky's intense presence. His brooding silence is matched only by his watchful eyes, and despite his gruff exterior, your kindness begins to chip away at his walls. When Bucky insists on walking you home one night, clyou chalk it up to his old-fashioned sense of duty and think nothing of it. But as the night unfolds, you realize there’s far more behind his actions than just good manners, and your growing feelings for him may not be as hidden as you think. (6 PARTS)

@crowsofdarkness

Moment of Weakness: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and a beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader? (31 PARTS)

@literaryavenger

@the-winter-spider

Say Don't Go: College!Hockey Bucky x Reader (10 PARTS) The Alchemy: Ten years ago, life pulled you and Bucky in opposite directions—yours to escape a painful past and his to chase dreams of glory. Now, fate has brought you back together, but the years apart have left their mark. As the golden boy of the NFL, Bucky seems to have it all, but the boy you once knew is still there, searching for something he lost. And you? You’ve spent years learning to survive in silence, carrying secrets you’ve never dared to share. When a chance reunion thrusts you into each other’s lives, old wounds resurface, and new ones threaten to break open. Bucky isn’t just determined to make up for the past—he’s determined to prove that he’ll never let you face the darkness alone again. But as shadows from your past tighten their grip, and Bucky’s world demands perfection, can the two of you find a way to rebuild what you lost? Or will the weight of what’s unspoken tear you apart once more? (6 PARTS) Invisible: You’ve always been Bucky’s best friend, his steady presence and trusted confidante. But somewhere along the way, your feelings shifted, leaving you caught between loyalty and longing. Now, with Bucky as charming and elusive as ever, you can’t help but wonder if he’ll ever see you as more than a friend. Every stolen glance, every shared laugh feels like a step toward something deeper—if only he’d notice. (27 PARTS) Waiting Room: ↳ Part One, Part Two, Part Three Yours, Always: You built a life filled with love, stability, and everything you thought you needed. A devoted husband. A beautiful daughter. A future that makes sense. But then, out of nowhere, the past comes knocking. It starts with a picture, an old memory, faded at the edges. You and Bucky, your childhood best friend, the boy who once stood by your side like he always would. The boy who left for the army without telling you. The boy who never came back. As buried emotions rise to the surface and the life you built starts to crack, you have to face the truth you've spent years avoiding. Because no matter how much time has passed, no matter how much has changed, one thing remains the same. He was always yours. And a part of you? A part of you was always his. (25 PARTS)

@navybrat817

Hold You Tight: Club Owner! Bucky Barnes x Female Reader. The Owner of the 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not. (25 PARTS)

@cosmos-coma

My Sun, My Star: You wait up late for your boyfriend Bucky to return from his mission, but it isn't Bucky who finds you. (4 PARTS)

@redwing4life

Ashes to Embers: When an unfortunate event forces you to confront the crush you’ve had on your neighbour since you moved in, you learn that Bucky knows you better than you know yourself. As the two of you grow closer, how does he deal with his past without pushing you away? (5 PARTS)

@rocketrhap3000

The Road Goes Ever On and On: Life as a single mother of a three year old certainly has its struggles. But when a sweet stranger makes his way into you and your little boy’s life, a one of a kind connection sparks. (11 PARTS)

@sashaisready

Sweet and Sour: Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader. You’re hard at work in Pepper’s Bakery when notorious mob boss James ‘Bucky’ Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again. (25 PARTS) Starting Over: Mob!Bucky x Female Reader. When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won’t listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it’s time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending. (5 PARTS)

@ofheroesandvillains

I Needed You: Fem!Reader tries to make sense of her feelings, it doesn’t really go too well, especially when Bucky already has a girl. Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

@winterarmyy

Plot Twist: beefy mafia!bucky x female!reader (3 PARTS)

@enchantedbarnes

Uncle Buck: You take your nephew to a Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson Q&A event. The mischievous 8-year-old asks if he can get in line to ask a question. Against your better judgement you agree and let him go up by himself. (7 PARTS)

@all1e23

Astrophile: Orion Rebecca Barnes’s favorite thing in the whole world (besides her daddy of course) is spending hours after school in the bookstore by her house and the owner GIVES her any book she wants; she’s the coolest girl Orion has ever met. It doesn’t take long for Bucky to notice his daughter’s sudden interest in constellations and the large stack of astrology related books piling up in her room. He’s spent her entire life trying to teach her about the stars and where her name came from with little interest from his little comet and all of sudden she’s in love. All thanks to the girl who owns the bookstore? Firefighter!Bucky, Single dad AU (18 PARTS)

@sanguineterrain

No Such Thing: You’ve been assigned to write a column for your school paper on the team’s spectacular running back. You don’t care very much for your university’s football team; you just can’t understand the hype, okay? Turns out your distaste for football bigheads was exactly on point: James Barnes is insufferable. (10 PARTS)

@cassiemaebarnes

Grumpy & the New Girl: She wasn’t supposed to meet him like that. He wasn’t supposed to let her in. But sometimes, things don’t go according to plan. (18 PARTS)

@espinosaurusrexex

Save Me: Bucky Barnes has never had it easy, which ultimately turned him into a caveman-like introvert with no desire to see the positive side of life. But what happens when the clumsily charming art student, Y/N, stumbles to his rescue, determined to show Bucky how truly wonderful the world is? (3 PARTS)

@classylo

@marvelwitchergilmore

Meant to Be: Bucky helps you adjust to the modern world. Part One | Part Two | Part Three

@probablybucky

Falling: When you find yourself falling for Bucky Barnes (literally), you wonder if you can let go of the past enough to trust him. Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 // Part 15 // Part 16 // Part 17 // Part 18 // Part 19 // Part 20

@mandoalorian

Congress & Carnality | Congressman!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader series: As the dedicated personal assistant to congressman bucky barnes, you’ve spent years keeping things strictly professional—until one heated night shatters the boundaries between you. what was meant to be a fleeting lapse spirals into an undeniable pull, tangled with secrecy, power, and unspoken emotions. but while you fight to keep things professional, bucky is falling fast, and resisting him might just be the hardest battle yet. (21 PARTS)

@animereaderinsertwriter

I saw you in a dream: In this life and every life; waking and dreaming; this I swear. These are the words inscribed on Bucky’s wedding ring. A wedding ring that he doesn’t remember ever having. It’s not a vow he made– not that he remembers, anyway– but it might just be one that he decides to keep anyway. (5 PARTS)

@writerlyhabits

Neighbors: Your friendship with your neighbor across the hall, the James “Bucky” Barnes, blooms as you get to know each other. And as a new extremist group - the Flagsmashers - make their mark on the world, the two of you are left to figure out what that means for your blossoming relationship. (17 PARTS)

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yukioos · 1 day ago

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katsuki cooking his significant other's favorite foods whenever he senses she's hungry or getting cranky or upset

and him just feeding her good food all the time because he loves her and he secretly loves the look on his significant other's face when she takes a bite of the food he prepared for her

i just know he would never let his significant other go hungry, like ever. even before they started dating, he cooks to show his love yk!

katsuki loves cooking food for you

even before your relationship, katsuki never forgot to remind you to eat. when you’d forget to, or you’d be too busy with training to eat a full meal, he’d have food ready for you as soon as you went back to the dorms.

he’s an amazing cook, knowing exactly how to replicate your favorite childhood meals and recipes without even looking at a list of ingredients and how to make the meal itself. he does most of this just to see your sweet reaction when taking the first bite, watching your eyes widen and a hum of approval come from your mouth. it fuels him to make more food for you, sometimes even giving you a three-course meal throughout the whole day if he is feeling good about himself.

especially when you’re upset, he’ll make your favorite meals, not often experimenting with recipes during that time in case you don’t like it (although that was extremely rare). sometimes when you’re sick, you feel like eating absolutely nothing, and on other days, you feel like you need to eat a whole buffet. he hates the days when you don’t want to eat at all, feeling like you should at least have a snack, and he hates not making you food for you to salivate over.

even when the two of you become pro-heroes and have your very own agency, katsuki always finds time to make food for you, even adding a kitchen into his hero agency. when he has have a break, it’s spent making you something. although the two of you work at the same agency, he drops the meal off at your large office across from his with a blank expression, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

and of course, you always praise him for his efforts. as always, he scoffs and rolls his eyes, but blushes as he continues to listen to your compliments. he’s never heard a bad response or reaction to his food, especially with you.

when the two of you first became best friends and were comfortable bringing each other to your houses, katsuki, and his parents invited you and your family over to their house for dinner. he wanted to show off his skills, so he pushed his parents to the side when they were starting to make dinner, taking the reigns and making it himself. he thought it would turn out better if he did it, and he also just wanted to show off.

so when your parents ask who made the meal, he speaks up, and gains even more compliments for the food. according to them, it wasn’t too salty, just the right amount of spice, and perfect portions as well. they claimed they wanted more because of how tasty it was, still tasting the flavors on their tongues, but were full.

but when you left with a smile on your face and a hand on your stomach, katsuki couldn’t stop thinking about your parents' approval as well, how they loved his food as much as you did.

this req was so cute to write! i hope u enjoy it, i haven’t written for katsuki in so long so i love this. i forgot to post last night so here’s a late post

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lostazuree · 3 days ago

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wait i need dessert for my tounge but wit bachira and reo lwk..

I knew we'd need a part two. 🫣

⤴❥ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚 ̟⸻ ❝𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞.❞ 𝐈𝐈.

✦ 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰°𝐅𝐭. 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐑𝐲𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐢, 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐞, 𝐑𝐞𝐨 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐘𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢.°✰

𝗦𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: Blue Lock Boys eating you out! ♥︎

—𝘚𝘮𝘶𝘵,𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺(?),𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞.

✦ 𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐘𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢

↬ A new, pathetically weak side of him.

He wasn't gonna beg, he swore. Never would you have him on his knees, he thought. But here he was, on his knees, whimpering for a taste when you're dripping, and when you finally let him, he's gonna show you how much of a grave mistake you've made. He throws your legs over his shoulder, spreading your thighs apart, nails digging into them as if they personally offended him, but he'd kiss each and every mark. His slender, deft digits thrust into your pussy, in, out, in, out, making you cry in pleasure, he brings those fingers near his lips teasingly, sucking every wet inch clean. "Darling, you've had your fun." And you know you fucked up in the best way possible.

He shoves his face in, his tongue aggressively sliding over, licking every inch, ever fold, wiping off every slick as if he was trying his hardest to reclaim his supposed dominance. "Ah-! Oh god-..Isagi-..not so fast," you'd moan to no avail, but the way you say his name, his mind goes hazy, thickly clouded with lust as his tongue plunges into your hole, thrusting so deep and hard, you could only clench the sheets, moaning loud. "(Y/n), hold on." He says after like an hour, when you're trembling, legs weak and numb, and he's still fucking you through his tongue. He'd make you cum so hard when he finally lets you release that knot in your stomach, and he'll lick and swallow everything up like a starved man. Holding your thighs, steadying you, he'd whisper in your ear mockingly, "You thought you could get away with it, didn't you? Well, I'm not nearly finished." Mean, so mean in the best way possible. And you know it's a long night. He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking hard, nibbling with his teeth as you cry out to him, he teases you, does you for so long, but you wouldn't have it any other way. You're signed up for this, 25/8. Wake up to find everything cleaned up and him snuggled in your arms like he didn't just demolish you.

✦ 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

↬ Sweetheart not so sweet when hungry.

Kicking off his cleats, he's so wide-eyed when you spread yourself on display for him, cheeks flushing up in an instant as he gazes at you dripping down for him. So hard to believe, something just awakened inside of him, while something else just snapped. His eyes all starry, mouth parched as he steps towards you, climbing on the bed in an instant."Oh god.." He mutters under his breath, eyes flicking to you for a silent agreement before he eagerly spreads your thighs apart, shoving his face in between. He slides his tongue over your folds, tasting you, he lets out sounds of satisfaction before shoving his face deeper with the widest grin he's ever flashed, nails digging into your thighs as he licks each and every drop of slick, swallowing it like a supper. He pushes his tongue deeper, making you gasp."F-..ugh, ..M-..Meguru-!", His eyes roll back when you moan his name. "Mmf..(y/n). So good. Hold on a little longer." He digs his nails deeper, steadying you as he'd groan into your pussy, the slides of his tongue becoming increasingly harder to keep up with, both his and your mind going hazy. His chin is dripping with your fluids, his bangs falling over his eyes as he sucks your clit so deviously, his lips carved into that signature grin, he isn't letting go anytime soon. "I'm skipping practice, babe." He says in a breathless whisper. He'd apologize so sweetly, as if he never did anything.

✦ 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐑𝐲𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐢

↬ Devil on the fields, devil in the sheets.

He has no cool to begin with. He's feral from the start. He'd whisper filthy things in your ear till you finally spread yourself for him, soaked and ready. "Pretty baby, spread a little wider." He'd mewl in your ear very purposefully, practically spreading your thighs to their very limit, then throwing them over his shoulder, shoving his fingers in, stretching you out hastily. "Ryu-! Ugh! Ryu, slow down!" , He'd smirk so wide, raising an eyebrow as he sucks his fingers clean."Oh, slow down?" He'd shove his face down so smugly, not at all slow. His tongue is long. Very. He slides it across the folds deftly, exploring each and every inch, collecting every last drop like a thirsty man. He has no chill. As soon as he's done, he'd fuck you with his tongue. "So fucking sweet. I'm gonna eat her out so fucking good." Has a thing for whispering the filthiest things while he's working. Vocal, might sometimes mock your moans if you get too loud, but when you moan his name, he gets dizzy. He loves when you grip his hair desperately. He bites your clit. Yes. Mf bites until you moan loud. So devious, so rough, and he knows it. Will make you cum and clean up every bit of it. "Pretty babe, ya gonna let me eat her again, right?" You don't know how many times you've heard that already. He'd clean everything with his tongue and get you McDonalds as soon as he's done.

✦ 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐞

↬ Mr. Nonchalant is very chalant.

The bag drops from his hand when he sees you on his bed, and surprisingly, his eyes don't land on the ruined sheets of his bed, but rather, the sigh before him, you, all wet and dripping for him. He presses his lips, heat rushing through his body before he takes a slow exhale, his cheeks flushed up as he walks towards you. His eyes widen just by seeing how wet you are, "Sae..gym?", You tease him, all he can mutter is a broken "Are you serious? What gym?" He'd say and without a warning, he'd lean in, spreading your thighs before his fingers spread your pussy lips open, his tongue latching onto your clit, nibbling and sucking like he just discovered food. All that Itoshi Sae elegance and calm is thrown out the window, he's whimpering, he thinks it's pathetic, but all he can focus on right now is how you taste, so sweet, so wet, sticky, and how your fingers holding his head, shoving him deeper desperately. "(Y/n)..stay still.", He whispers, holding your thighs steady, his teeth grazing your clit. His tongue has been in there for so long, you've fallen apart like thrice, but he doesn't care. He hasn't had his fill yet. "Fuck yeah. I need more." Even during your orgasm, his soft tongue collects every drop of slick, pushing deep into the hole, pulling back, and repeating until you fall apart one last time. Which isn't gonna be the last yet for sure. Don't worry, he's already got some Michelin Star restaurant reservations for when you wake up.

✦ 𝐑𝐞𝐨 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞

↬ Rich boy? Begging to have a taste.

"Please...can I do it now?", He's a mess for a long time when you tease him, his eyes half lidded when you're sprawled out on the sheets, ruining the expensive fabric, it only turns him on. When you finally give him a nod of approval, he's quick to make you pay back. Looming over you, lean, strong arms caging you down on the bed before he spreads you open. His hair is tied back neatly, he needs no distractions. He plunges his face in, lips closing around your clit, his movements now taunting yet pleasurable. He sucks, sucks and sucks until you moan, clutching the sheets. "R-..ah! Reo-..slow down." He doesn't. He gives you a half smirk, "It's my time to have fun now, love. You've been at it for long enough." He bites, nibbling so good, you might go numb soon. He plunges his tongue deep in, pulling out, going in, until he draws out your orgasm, and he'll clean it all up with his tongue. "So sweet, honey. But you gotta hold it. I'm not done yet." And it's true. He'd do you over and over again until you realise why it's wrong to tease him. Nails digging into your plush thighs, tongue vigorously plunging in so deep you moan louder, his name leaving your lips like a desperate prayer. Got your knees giving up, but he's not done. Passed out on him? You'd wake up all clean, draped in silk, on fresh sheets.

𝐁𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭 🎀

Reblogs would be highly appreciated!

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lowpolyhagrid · 2 days ago

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Hiiiii do you think we could get an Erik fic where him and reader are in an established relationship, and they work together at the tattoo shop. Maybe they are getting ready together for family bbq and then the crazy stuff starts to happen. Sorry if that’s like a lot :))))

tattooed golden retriever

e. campbell. 1k words. gn!reader

warnings: cursing, not proofread

i skipped over most of the bbq scene cause i just wrote about it and i was scared of repeating myself.. but it mostly takes place a little bit after. i had a lot of fun writing this!!

you hold the door open as erik carries the propane tank out of the shed. “thanks for the help.” he remarks, but you aren’t sure what he was expecting you to do. “you got it.” you reply, shutting the door behind him. you watch him as he tries hooking it up to the grill. erik doesn’t want kids, but the sight of him makes you imagine what it would be like. he stands up, looking at you. “are you gonna keep staring at me or hand me that lighter?” he asks, and you reach towards the table next to you.

you hand him the lighter and he struggles to get the grill to light. “keep trying. you’re doing great.” you call sarcastically. this is always how your relationship has been. you love each other, very much. but you both have a unique way of showing it. you met when you started working at the same tattoo parlor. he would come over once and a while and talk to you. the first time you worked together, he walked up, looked at your flash sheet, and told you all of it looked like shit. you told him his corny tattoos made him look like bam margera. you both thought of that interaction all week.

that was around a year ago, and in the time since then, you’ve given each other tattoos to commemorate your first interaction. you gave him the one he said he hated the most on your flash sheet, and he gave you a nasty ass heart-a-gram on your wrist. he finally gets the grill lit, after a minor explosion-scare, and waves his mom over. then, he takes a few steps over to you. “is this what your family always does after a funeral?” you ask, taking a sip from your cup of whatever-the-hell bobby gave you. he crosses his arms. “i don’t know. we haven’t been to very many funerals.” he says, turning around to watch his mom. you nod. “shout out to gigi. hell of way of bringing your family together.” you joke, looking over at erik. “no shit.” he agrees with a small chuckle.

—

your brain really only starts processing what happened while you’re staring at erik, who’s pacing back and forth in your living room. you walk out of your kitchen and over to him, trying your best to calm him down. he brushes you off at first, saying he’s fine and he is just thinking. “okay, well. you need to think about something else.” you lead him over to your sofa and sit him down, taking a seat next to him. “i don’t know what the fuck you expect from me. i’m not going to act like everything’s fucking nice and dandy when i just witnessed a fu-” you cut him off by shushing him. “i don’t expect anything from you. i just don’t want you freaking out.” you argue.

you’re not good with emotions at all, and erik knows that. the best you know how to do is talk to him. even though it’s hard to get to the bottom of how he’s feeling. “i am not fucking freaking out.” he shuts his eyes. “i could be a lot worse right now. but i’m not so you should be thankful.” he continues, turning his body away from you. “god forbid i try to help you.” you don’t mean to sound so harsh, but it’s the only way you can say what you mean. you watch him as he takes the longest deep breath imaginable. “it would be fine if you weren’t doing such a shitty job.” he reaches forwards towards his phone, and you take it off the table before he can reach it.

“erik, just listen to me.” you plead, you finally earn his attention. “kiki, just tell me what i can do to make you feel better.” your voice comes out choked and a little bit more desperate than you were intending. he looks at you, mouth hanging open for a second while he searches for what to say. “i don’t know.” is all that comes out of him. you catch a glimpse of tears just barely starting to brim in his eyes. you pull him close to you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he mostly settles against your chest, his hands finding their way around your waist. you’re taken aback when he just about starts sobbing into your shoulder.

one of your hands moves to the back of his head, brushing through his hair. he collects himself after only a few short moments, and he sit up, keeping his hands on your waist. “fuck, i’m sorry.” he chokes out, reaching up to wipe the tears off of his face. you look at him, brushing the hair out of his face. “you don’t have to be sorry, dumbass.” you say, trying to break the tension. he gives you a half-hearted smile. “i seriously am. i don’t think i’ve cried like that ever.” he chuckles, wiping his face with the hem of his shirt, exposing his stomach tattoo to you. “especially not in front of you.”

you practically cradled him to sleep that night, talking to him about random shit to keep his mind off things. he feel asleep with his head in your lap, unintentionally interrupting you mid sentence with a loud snore. you gingerly readjusted him so you could lay down properly. erik never fell asleep before you. he was always staying up either playing video games, watching something, or looking at random shit on his phone. it’s an interesting change of pace for you. you’re glad that you were able to get through to him enough to ease him to sleep.

#final destination #final destination bloodlines #erik campbell x reader #erik campbell

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feelfreetopleasemexo · 1 day ago

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What’re friends for?

Katsukixreader

You tried to slide your left hand down your pants, tried to roll your fingers over your clit, tried to reach down to your soaking entrance to help bring your slick up to give less resistance, but it was no use. Your fingers wouldnt cooperate, your coordination wasnt there, it felt like a teenager who was touching their first pussy, awkward and fumbling. Your vibrator had died and the charger was an open wired broken mess. There was no way in hell youd ask Denki to help you charge it, no way hed ever let you live that down. So you reached for your phone, messaging the only person you knew you might stand a chance at convincing to help you.

‘Hey! So got a bit of a weird question to ask….’

‘I can hear what you’re trying to do. Fucking stop it. Weirdo.’

‘Oh cmon i need help, my hands fucked, I’ll buy you dinner for the rest of the week if you can help me figure something out….’

Katsukis room was next to yours, and the walls were excruciatingly thin. You could hear every snore, every gruff, every drum beat, so it was no surprise he could hear you awkwardly trying to get yourself off. Hell, the only reason you were even trying to touch yourself was because you swore you could hear him doing it first. Youd known each other for years, he was the type of friend that you couldnt shake off, youd seen each other at your best and your worst, he knew too much about you and you knew even more about him, so why not? Friends help each other out dont they…

After hearing your message ping to his phone from through the wall, and him not replying after clearly reading it, you lay your head back and sighed, it was a long shot but a part of you honestly thought he might’ve helped. You tried again, sliding your hand inbetween your thighs, tracing your entrance, inserting your fingers and trying to reach your soft spot but it was no use, you were right handed and that was currently in a cast after training yesterday. You tried to curl your fingers, tried to tilt your hips to give any release, when your door was kicked open. Katsuki stood there, completely unfazed by your fingers being deep in your pants, you pulled your hand out and tried to pull your blanket over you, you luckily weren’t naked, but the position he found you in still made embarrassment flush your cheeks.

He rolled his eyes, hands in his pockets and kicked your door shut behind him. He walked towards you, grabbed your ankles and pulled you to the end of your bed, kneeling down infront of you. He opened your legs aggressively, reaching up and pulling your shorts off in a swift movement as he then pulled your pants off too. You stared at him, eyes wide, mouth open, he didn’t even seem phased that your pussy was now an inch away from his face. He reached his ring and middle finger to his mouth, spat aggressively on them and turning his palm to the ceiling as he slipped the inside of you, your slick almost running down your thighs already made it easy for him to enter you. As he put his fingers in, he leant down and started running his tongue up your clit. As he curled his fingers inside you, acting as if he was doing homework or watching a tv show, your back arched and a moan escaped your lips.

He locked his arm and started pumping his fingers in and out of you, starting slowly then quickly picking up the pace, as he flicked his tongue over and around your clit, it felt like he was a pro at this, like this was second nature to him, moving his tongue so fast it almost felt faster than the vibrations of your toys. As he pressed on your sweet spot perfectly with every thrust of his fingers tips, he then reached up and started pinching your nipples through your shirt, he didn’t even need to look to know exactly where they were. Euphoria filled your veins, the hot electricity burning its way through your core, building up quickly and almost instantly washing over you, you reached your hand to his hair and gripped it tightly, it was your only lifeline keeping you in your body. Every lick, every thrust, every squeeze felt calculated, like he had researched you for years and was finally putting his knowledge to the test. Your body wound tight then snapped, it felt almost instantaneous, your body now shaking under his relentless touch. He helped you ride it out, lapping up every ounce of your slick as if he was a man starved. He slowed his thrusts, started kissing your thighs instead of licking your clit, as your body slowly stopped shaking. After youd completely stopped, your moans now breathy gasps as you came down from your high, he stood up and wiped his mouth, walking back towards your door. He stopped before leaving, glancing back at you over his shoulder,

“Don’t buy a new toy, that was actually kinda fun.” He closed the door behind him as he went back to his room. Why the fuck did he not look bothered about giving you that utter pro porn experience, and why did absolutely relish in his experience, wanting more already.

#bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bnha #bnha fanart #katsuki bakugou #bhna #bnha smut #smut artist #bakugo smut #mha smut #smut

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ezkel · 14 hours ago

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twitter au where James and Regulus are large fan accounts in a toxic fandom and have MAJOR beef with each other.

they get in massive twitter fights daily. the rest of the fandom actually realises how toxic they are because of jegulus and work on getting along because they don't want to be like them.

at some point Regulus is bitching about twitter user "prongs" to Barty. Barty obviously decides the best course of action is to dox the guy.

but before they can post the information they've uncovered. Regulus realises that his "arch nemesis" is the guy he's been pining over. he doesn't dox him.

because his fun was ruined, Barty decides to bring up twitter user "leoStar" around James. which results in an equally as passionate rant as the one Barty heard from Regulus, before James realises Barty has no reason to know about this.

Barty tells James that Regulus is "leoStar"

James goes to talk to Regulus, they get in an in-person bitch fight about who's opinion is correct. somehow it ends in one of them pulling the other in for a rather heated kiss.

for the next month the fandom is in fear because the two accounts are much less violently arguing and are instead just mildly hating.

at the end of the month someone asks about the change and the whole fandom finds out they're dating now.

#no but imagine finding out that two of the most hating acounts started dating eachother when they have spent so much time on twitter hating→#←on such a level that it caused the rest of the fandom to re-evaluate their perspective on life. AND THEYRE DATING NOW???#toxic fandom acounts to lovers #enemies to lovers but modern social media #theyre just silly like that #they singlehandedly made a toxic fandom healthy #because people were scared that they would turn up like them #they still get in arguments about it but its no longer toxic levels #barty is always in it for the drama #look sunshine james is fun and all but that man is also an asshole lets not forget #jegulus #marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards from the 70s #regulus black #james potter #barty crouch jr #barty crouch junior #r.a.b

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sweetvoidstuff · 1 day ago

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Just a Normal Night: Missing you

Jungkook x Reader I Modern AU I Chance Encounter I Fluff I Romance

Summary: You and Jungkook had built something steady amidst the chaos of long-distance and fame. Though you couldn’t share your love with the world, Jungkook made sure you always felt seen, valued, and included.You held onto each other in quiet ways, making the most of every message, every stolen day, but there were nights—like this one—when the ache of missing him, of pretending, became sharp and lonely.

Word Count: 9K

Masterlist

A/N: I hurt myself with this one... Just a quick note on formatting: Bold text is used for dialogue spoken in Korean. Italic text represents internal thoughts or feelings. Normal text is used for dialogue spoken in English.

I hope this helps make things easier to follow while reading. Thanks so much for giving my story a chance!

▲▽▲▽▲▽▲▽▲▽▲▽▲▽

It had been a few months now. You and Jungkook had found a rhythm—chaotic at times, but surprisingly solid. You’d grown used to airport runs, shared calendars, and time zone math. More than anything, you’d learned how to make every moment together count.

You’d even switched jobs to make it work. Your new role allowed more flexibility—more home office days—which meant more opportunities to catch flights out to him, or better yet, to welcome him into your space. And Jungkook had started planning his travel routes with intention. No matter where he was flying—be it Tokyo, Paris, or New York—he found a way to make a stopover at your place. Even if it was just for a day or two. Sometimes he’d arrive at midnight, exhausted but smiling, and slip into bed beside you like he belonged there. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t perfect. Of course not.

But it was more than you thought you’d get when you first fell for a man with a passport full of stamps and a calendar packed to the edges. What surprised you most, though, was how normal some things started to feel.

Your best friends, Pascal and Floral—your loud, protective, ride-or-dies—had long since exchanged numbers with Jungkook. They'd grilled him mercilessly, but by the end of it, Jungkook was laughing so hard he was crying. Now, they sent memes back and forth like old friends and occasionally FaceTimed him just to "make sure he was still hot." Jungkook played along with good humor, sometimes even sending photos just to mess with them.

You had group chats with some of his people too—Yoongi occasionally sent you dry one-liners about keeping Jungkook in check, while Taehyung’s voice notes were always unhinged in the best way. You didn’t see them often, but when you did, it never felt like a performance. You were part of this now, even if quietly.

Still, it wasn’t always easy. The secrecy was the hardest part.

There were no selfies online. No hand-holding in public. No sharing your favorite photos of him—at least not outside your locked folder. Not even on your photo wall. You watched from a distance as the world speculated about his life, sometimes cruelly, sometimes ridiculously, and always loudly.

And when something trended—some blurry photo, some headline about him being seen with someone else—it could hit you like a punch in the gut if you weren’t expecting it. But you usually were.

Because Jungkook made sure of it. He told you everything.

Before the rumors even started, he’d already filled you in. A potential collab with a female idol? You’d known weeks ahead. A tabloid writing nonsense about him partying? You had the real story before the article even dropped. Some out-of-context video making rounds? You’d already heard the full, boring truth from him or one of the BTS guys that filmed the video.

Jungkook wasn’t about gifts—not really, because you made him promise not to. Though he still insisted on bringing you things that made you groan and swat at him for spending too much (like the ridiculously expensive designer scarf you refused to wear outside because what if you lost it?), that wasn’t how he kept you.

He kept you by being there.

With late-night texts, sleepy voice notes, and photos from hotel rooms that always looked a little too sterile until he brought you into them—even if only over FaceTime. He kept you in the loop, in his orbit, in the spaces between the noise. And you stayed. Not just because you loved him—though you did, deeply—but because he made loving him safe, even in the shadows.

And sometimes, just sometimes, when you caught a glimpse of him looking at you—like you were the only thing grounding him to this world—you didn't care that no one else knew.

You knew. And that was enough.

But you still missed him.

No matter how well you'd both adjusted to this rhythm of time zones, shared calendars, and countdowns until the next flight, there were still nights when it hit you hard. Nights like this one—cool air brushing against your skin, the city buzzing, the distant sound of laughter from people who didn’t have to keep their love life secret.

You knew he missed you just as much. Jungkook wasn’t shy about saying it anymore. Voice notes that started with "I miss you so much…" had become a regular comfort, sometimes accompanied by a half-asleep selfie or a blurry photo of whatever city skyline he was staring at.

But neither of you could put your lives on hold. He had concerts. You had deadlines. He had fans. You had rent.

So tonight, instead of being curled up on the couch, texting or facetiming him, you were out with your friends.

Your group had grown over the past few months. It wasn’t just Pascal and Floral anymore. Tonight, Eumi had joined, along with Carmen—and Dong, who had somehow transformed from the waiter at your favorite Korean BBQ place into a staple of your group chat. He’d been charming from day one, always slipping into your conversations with gossip and impressively savage opinions about Kimchi. Over the months, he’d stayed longer after meals, accepted your invitation to a group hang, and just fit.

The six of you had started the evening at a small Italian restaurant tucked between two bookstores—a cozy spot with handwritten menus and twinkling fairy lights in mason jars. You laughed over shared plates of pasta, swapped stories from the week, and clinked glasses over how mentally cooked you all were from work.

“So,” Carmen said at one point, spearing the last mushroom ravioli and leaning her chin on her hand, “When are you finally going to get a boyfriend?” You nearly choked on your wine. “Yeah,” Dong added with a wicked grin, tilting his head. “It’s getting suspicious. All this skincare and mystery phone calls. I’m starting to think you’ve got a secret man in your walls or something.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Eumi deadpanned. “She’s probably got one locked in the basement.” Pascal, who was sitting beside you, didn’t even blink. “If she did, trust me, she’d let him out just to clean. Maybe do taxes. She’s too busy for anything else.”

You laughed with the group but sidestepped the question as you always did. “I’m just enjoying being mysterious,” you said, taking a sip of your drink with a wink. “It adds to my overall brand.”

“Mysterious and single?” Dong teased.

“Mysteriously unavailable,” Pascal said smoothly, and clinked your glass in a quiet, knowing gesture. They let it go after that. The teasing didn’t stop—but the questions did. After dinner, you all made your way to your and Pascal’s favorite karaoke bar. It wasn’t trendy or flashy. In fact, it was a little run-down—but the mic worked, the drinks were strong, and the regulars didn’t care if you couldn’t carry a tune.

You pushed through the door and were immediately hit with the warm, bassy thump of 2000s pop echoing off the walls. The lights were low and multicolored, the disco ball spinning slowly overhead like it had better days behind it. Floral was already halfway to the songbook, flipping furiously. “Okay, nobody is allowed to leave until we’ve all done at least one cursed duet.”

“Dibs on ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ with Carmen,” Pascal said, making Eumi groan.

“Only if we get to do the headbanging part properly,” Carmen said, already rolling up her sleeves.

You slid into the worn red couch, surrounded by the people who had become your safe zone. It wasn’t Jungkook’s arms. It wasn’t the weight of him leaning into you while you worked from your laptop on his hotel bed. But it was something. It was home.

And for now, that was enough.

As Pascal grabbed the mic for his first round and the opening notes of a dramatically off-key rendition of “Toxic” by Britney Spears started to blare through the speaker, you relaxed into the cushions, drink in hand, your laughter rising above the music.

Tonight, you'd sing the stress away.

▲▽▲▽▲▽▲▽▲▽▲▽▲▽

Across the world, Jungkook missed you.

He was just stepping off set after finishing his shoot for the new album concept—slicked back hair, sharp eyeliner, and a coat that looked like it belonged in some post-apocalyptic runway show. Yoongi was next up, already halfway through wardrobe, and Namjoon, still in his second look for the single concept, was heading to the makeup noonas to prep for round two.

But Jungkook wasn’t thinking about any of that. Not really. He was thinking about you.

He wished you were here. Sitting in the corner of the set with your laptop, pretending to work but really just watching him with that soft, secret smile. But this was one of those weeks—busy, mismatched schedules, deadlines for both of you—and the reality was, it just wasn’t possible to meet up this time. In a week—maybe two, max—there would be a new window. A precious stretch of four whole days that matched both your calendars, and he was holding onto that like a lifeline.

He couldn't wait.

Just as he stepped into the dressing room and reached for his phone to text you a tired selfie, a new message popped up on screen.

Pascal: Hey thought you might like a treat 🍬 (video file attached)

Jungkook’s lips curled before he even opened it. Your friends Pascal and Flora had grown close to him over the last few months. They messaged him every now and then, mostly teasing him with you, sometimes just sharing random moments from their group outings. It helped him feel connected to your life even when he couldn’t be there physically. Plus, it gave him an excuse to practice his English—although for texting, Google Translate was still his loyal sidekick.

He tapped the video.

The next three minutes of shaky camera footage had Jungkook grinning like an idiot, and within ten seconds, he was done for. His grin stretched wide. Laughter burst from his chest before he could stop it. The stress of the shoot, the fatigue pressing on his shoulders, the whirlwind of deadlines—forgotten. He watched, eyes glued to the video Pascal had sent him.

You were on screen, standing beside a Korean girl Jungkook vaguely recognized from your stories—Eumi, maybe? The two of you were in a dimly lit karaoke bar, a disco ball spinning above your heads and casting colorful speckles of light across your faces.

The two of you were mid-performance, belting out MIC Drop like your lives depended on it.

Badly. Loudly. Hilariously. Adorably.

You and your friend were giving it everything. Your choreography was a chaotic blend of real BTS moves and your own completely unhinged freestyles—wild arm swings, aggressive dabs, mic flips. You pointed dramatically on beat, lost yourself in the lyrics, and nearly dropped the mic from laughing too hard mid-line. The improvisations made Jungkook burst into breathless laughter. He cringed and cooed all at once.

You were mouthing all the lyrics—his parts too—with such exaggerated confidence that it looked like you were headlining a world tour. Eumi tried to do Jungkook’s part but gave up halfway through, handing it over to you—just as the beat dropped into Yoongi’s rap.

And you went full fan mode.

You rapped Yoongi’s lines like you were auditioning to replace him—fierce, theatrical, and way too confident for someone who tripped over the beat twice. But it only made it funnier. Somehow better. Your swagger was ridiculous. Your hand gestures had no coordination. And you didn’t care at all. The sheer joy radiating off you made Jungkook’s chest ache—in the best way.

And despite the shaky cam, he could clearly make out the proud chaos in the background.

In the background, Flora and someone else were waving rolled-up napkins like cheering batons, adding their own hype to the performance. Like they were at a concert, cheering you on like their lives depended on it. At one point, Pascal could be heard laughed so hard he wheezed, his voice barely audible, “They’re gonna break the stage, oh my God.”

Jungkook doubled over, clutching his stomach, nearly dropping his phone. He had to pause the video just to breathe. His eyes were watering from how hard he was laughing, but also… from something softer. Something warm.

“God, she’s killing it,” he mumbled, wiping a tear away and shaking his head. He couldn’t stop smiling. Couldn’t stop watching. He hit rewind, needing to see the part again where you did a dramatic spin, lost your balance, then laughed it off and did a little body roll like nothing had happened.

“Jungkookie?”

Jimin passed by in a black tank top and joggers, holding a water bottle. He paused at the sight of Jungkook hunched over, laughing like a maniac. “What are you watching?” he asked, curiously stepping behind Jungkook and leaning in.

Jungkook held the phone out without a word. Jimin leaned in. After just five seconds, he snorted. And immediately, Jimin’s expression cracked. “No way. Is that your girl?”

Jungkook just nodded, lips pressed together to keep from cracking into full-on laughter again.

“She’s destroying Yoongi’s part,” Jimin said, grinning. “Hold on—HYUNG!”

Yoongi, already halfway to the set in his stage outfit, turned slowly. “What now?”

Jimin waved him over, already laughing. “You need to see this. Jungkook’s girlfriend is coming for your position. You better step it up.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, skeptical, but wandered over anyway. Jungkook rewound the clip to that part and, even Yoongi couldn’t help but smirk. “She’s got guts,” he muttered, crossing his arms as he watched your overly intense delivery and dramatic mic flip. “Terrible breath control, though.”

“But better hair,” Jimin added.

“Don’t make me regret showing you this,” Jungkook said, grinning helplessly. Then you did a full-body spin, stumbled, laughed it off, and tried to save it with a half-hearted body roll—before dabbing like it was your encore. “She’s perfect,” Jungkook said without thinking, eyes still locked on the screen. His voice was soft. Full of something raw and real.

Jimin caught the tone and softened too. “She’s adorable,” he said. “Does she know her friend filmed this?”

“Definitely not.”

The three of them watched the rest of the video together, crowded around Jungkook’s phone like teenagers. And when it ended? Jungkook hit play again. Because even through grainy pixels and shaky camera work, you’d lit up the room he was in. Even from a thousand miles away. Even from a crowded dressing room in another time zone.

And it reminded him why this—you—were worth every second of distance. Every lonely flight. Every night he had to fall asleep with a phone screen instead of your voice beside him.

You were wild. You were chaotic. You were you.

And God, did he miss you. He couldn’t wait to text you. He couldn’t wait to tell you how much he loved the video. How he was now going to tease you for exactly how hard you went during his verse, how you absolutely butchered his choreo, and how he loved you even more for it. And how, next time, he wanted to see it in person.

Not through a video. But sitting beside you. Maybe even grabbing the mic himself.

▲▽▲▽▲▽▲▽▲▽▲▽▲▽

It was late when you finally got home, still humming snippets of songs you’d absolutely butchered at karaoke. Pascal and Flora had dropped you off with promises to plan the next night out soon, and now the silence of your apartment felt both comforting and oddly loud after the chaos of the bar.

You were a little tipsy—just enough to feel warm and relaxed from the couple of drinks you’d had, but still steady on your feet. As you kicked off your shoes, you glanced at the clock and groaned.

Time zone math. Ugh. What was it where Jungkook was? Morning? Afternoon? Late evening?

You flopped down on your couch, pulling out your phone. You hadn’t heard from him much today, but you knew he should still be busy on set. Just in case, you thumbed out a short message:

You: Still awake?

You were already half-preparing to open one of the goodnight voice messages he’d sent you the night before—a soothing backup plan when he was too busy to answer. But before you could even close your messaging app, your phone lit up.

Not a text. Not a FaceTime. A regular call.

You blinked, surprised. Jungkook’s name lit up your screen, and your heart jumped. You answered quickly, pressing the phone to your ear with a sleepy smile. “Hey.”

“Hey, you,” came his voice, low and warm in your ear. “Didn’t think I’d get to hear from you tonight.”

Your smile deepened. “Didn’t think I’d get to talk to you tonight. I figured you’d be busy until tomorrow.”

“We just wrapped up shooting a bit ago. Got a little break before dinner and a live later with Jimin,” he explained. You could hear the faint background murmur of staff and maybe some crew members talking, but his attention was fully on you. “So, your message came at the perfect time.”

You let out a little laugh. “Lucky me.”

“You sound…” he paused, amused. “Tipsy?”

“Just a little,” you admitted, laughing again. “We went to that karaoke place near Eumi’s neighborhood. I may or may not have screamed my way through half the BTS discography.”

“Oh no.” Jungkook chuckled, the sound deep and fond. “Was it fun?”

“The most fun I’ve had in weeks,” you said, stretching your legs out on the couch. “I think Pascal filmed some of it, actually. I’m terrified to see what he got.”

Jungkook hummed noncommittally. “Yeah? I bet it was cute.”

“Cute? Please. It was chaotic—catastrophic. I almost fell off the little stage. Eumi forgot half the words and tried to give me her part—like I could pull that off. I think Flora even brock a mic. We all nearly cried from laughing.” There was a small beat of silence on the line before Jungkook said, a little too smoothly, “Did you fall off the stage before or after the body roll?”

You froze. Your eyes narrowed. “…Wait. How do you know about the body roll?”

His laughter burst through the speaker. “Pascal might’ve sent me a little something earlier.”

“Oh my God.” You groaned, burying your face in a cushion. “He didn’t!”

“He did.” Jungkook was grinning—you could hear it. “And honestly? Best thing I’ve seen all day. I think you nearly made Yoongi cry.”

“Jungkook!”

“You were amazing,” he teased gently. “Questionable dance choices—but amazing.”

“I'm never speaking to Pascal again.”

“You’re lying.”

“Okay… I might yell at him a little first and then forgive him. But still.” You laughed despite your embarrassment, cheeks warming. “That’s blackmail material.”

“Nope. That’s wallpaper material,” Jungkook said softly. “You have no idea how much I needed that laugh today.” The teasing faded into something softer between you—his voice warm in your ear, his laughter still echoing in your chest. You curled up tighter on the couch, letting the quiet stretch for a moment.

Then, lightly, you said, “Dong’s been on his matchmaking kick again.” Jungkook let out a soft sound of confusion. “Matchmaking?”

“Yeah. After the second round of drinks, he started again asking why I’m still single.” You laughed under your breath, eyes on the ceiling. “He’s been convinced I need a boyfriend for weeks.” There was a pause. Then a low, amused hum. “Dong… he’s the one with the green hair, right?”

“Mhm. Nice guy, kind of like a human golden retriever, but relentless.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook said again, slower this time. “You think he’s into you?”

You snorted. “I don’t think so. I mean—maybe? But it’s more like… he thinks I need someone to take care of me. Like I’m out here tragically pining or something.”

“Well,” Jungkook said, mock-affronted, “I am taking care of you.”

You grinned. “I know. You’re doing a great job, too.” There was a beat of silence, and then Jungkook asked, more seriously, “What did you tell him?”

You hesitated, fingers picking at the edge of a cushion. “That I’m fine. That I’m not looking.”

“Not looking?” he echoed.

“I mean… I can’t tell anyone I already have a boyfriend,” you said quietly. “Except Pascal and Flora?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, his voice softer now.

“Pascal’s a good buffer,” you added. “He steps in whenever Dong starts getting too nosy, changes the subject, or drags me off to get more snacks or something. Flora too, if he catches on. But it’s still weird not being able to say anything.” You could hear the way Jungkook’s breathing shifted, the heaviness of his silence weighing between you like a held breath.

“I hate that I can’t tell anyone you’re mine,” he murmured, his words laced with quiet frustration. “That I can’t tell the guys hitting on you to back off. Can’t post about you, or even hold your hand in public.” He sighed. “But I really appreciate you being honest with me about it all.”

You pressed your cheek against the couch cushion, trying to keep your voice steady. “Of course I am.”

“I miss you more in moments like this,” he said softly. “When I know someone else might be seeing you smile, hearing you laugh, and I can't be there. I want to kiss you even more when it feels like I shouldn’t.”

“I miss you,” you admitted, your voice low. Jungkook’s voice dropped an octave, losing all its teasing lilt—suddenly quieter, more intimate. “How much do you miss me?” The way he said it sent a flicker of heat down your spine. Your breath hitched, and you felt your fingers curl tighter around your phone.

“A lot, Jungkook,” you whispered. There was a pause on his end, followed by a subtle, gravelly hum that made your chest ache. Just then, you heard the faint click of a door in the background on his end—maybe someone entering, or him slipping into a quieter space. When he spoke again, his voice was different. Focused. Steady. All the playful teasing from earlier was gone.

“What do you miss the most?” he asked. You smiled into the quiet, feeling your chest tighten at the sincerity in his voice. You didn’t rush to answer, letting the moment stretch.

“Bam,” you said eventually, with a soft teasing note. There was a beat of silence—then Jungkook groaned dramatically, laughing under his breath. “I’m trying to be sexy here. Work with me.”

You laughed too, your mood lighter already. “I thought you had a live you needed to go to?”

“I do,” he said, sighing again—but this time it was reluctant. “Just later. I want… to take care of you. If you want to stay up with me a little longer?” You closed your eyes, heart soft and full. “Yeah. I do.” You hesitated, chewing on your lip. “I… I’m just not sure how the phone thing works. Like… I don’t want to mess anything up.” You laughed a little, sheepish. “God, that sounds dumb.”

“It doesn’t,” he said instantly, gentle and reassuring. “I went to my room. I’m alone now—door’s locked. I’ve got time. If you want to try, I’ll talk you through it.”

You nodded, a small, automatic movement before you remembered he couldn’t see you. “Okay,” you said quietly, breath catching just a little. “Yeah. I want to.”

There was a pause on his end—then the sound he made was low, husky, full of quiet anticipation. It wasn’t overt, but it was heavy with promise, a kind of intimacy you could feel down your spine. It told you he was ready to be patient. Ready to match your pace.

You heard the soft rustle of sheets as he shifted, the faint creak of his mattress, the muffled thump of something—maybe his hoodie hitting the floor. The normal sounds of him settling in, suddenly layered with something new.

“You’re okay,” he said after a beat, and there was something so grounding in his tone, like he was reminding you this wasn’t a performance. “It’s just me. Just us.” Your breath shook as you inhaled. “I know. I just… haven’t done this.” Jungkook exhaled slowly, the sound barely caught by the mic. “I got you.”

You could tell he meant it. Then, quietly—like a secret slipping between the cracks of the night—he said, “You don’t have to worry about a thing, okay? I’ll take care of you.” The certainty in his voice made your breath catch. There was no hesitation, no doubt—just calm, grounded confidence that wrapped around you like a blanket. “We’ll go slow,” Jungkook continued, his tone gentle but sure. “I’ll lead. You just breathe and stay with me. That’s all you need to do.” A lump formed in your throat, full of quiet vulnerability and something deeper—trust, maybe. Or the need to give it to someone who wouldn’t drop it.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice small and honest. “I trust you.” He breathed your name in return, soft and reverent, a kind of vow that settled over your chest like warm sunlight breaking through a winter windowpane.

“Good,” he said, his voice dipping slightly, more velvet than sound. Then you heard it again—faint shuffling, the sound of him shifting, settling, waiting for you. The night felt still and pulsing all at once, strung tight between your phone and his voice.

“Are you lying down somewhere comfortable?”, his voice soft but edged with quiet intent. You shifted slightly, the cushions beneath you creaking. “I’m still on the couch,” you admitted, glancing down at yourself. “I… I didn’t even change. I messaged you right after I kicked off my shoes at the door.” There was a short beat of silence on the line before he let out a low, affectionate sound—half laugh, half coo. “You needed to hear me that badly, huh?” Your cheeks warmed, but you smiled. “Yeah.”

“I love that,” he said quietly, and something about his voice made your chest tighten. “But that won’t do. I want you comfortable. That means going to your bedroom.” You bit your lip, nodding even though he couldn’t see it. “O-okay,” you murmured, pushing yourself up. “And out of those pants,” he added gently. “I want you to really relax. Can you do that for me?”

Your breath caught for a second. There was nothing crude in the way he said it—just warmth, intention, care. Still, you felt a shy blush bloom across your face. “Okay,” you whispered, voice nearly inaudible as you made your way toward the bedroom.

He didn’t rush you. You could hear him waiting, the faint sound of his breathing and maybe the quiet rustle of fabric on his end. It grounded you. “I’m in my room,” you said softly, kicking the door closed behind you with your heel. You reached for the button of your jeans, fingers fumbling slightly. “I… I took off my pants.”

There was a quiet hum on the other end of the line. Jungkook’s tone dipped lower, warm and full of approval. “Good girl,” he said. “Tell me what you are doing.” You swallowed, heart fluttering in your throat. “I’m in front of my bed. Just… just in my top, bra, and panties now.” A beat passed. His breath hitched softly. “You did good,” he murmured, voice like velvet. “Now lie down. I want you warm and relaxed.”

You climbed onto the bed, tucking yourself against the pillows and drawing the blanket loosely over your hips. The coolness of the sheets against your bare legs made you shiver. Once settled, you exhaled shakily. “This is… weird,” you confessed, cheeks burning.

Jungkook chuckled, low and fond. “That’s okay. You’re doing really well.” Then, softer, he asked, “Do you want to stop?” Your heart stuttered, because he sounded genuine—not disappointed, not frustrated. Just making sure. “No,” you said, the word quick and certain, even if your voice trembled a little. “I want to keep going.” There was a pause. And then his voice again—so full of affection, so gently commanding it made your toes curl.

“Alright,” Jungkook’s voice dipped lower, like warm silk poured over your skin. “Get your shirt of for me,” he said softly. “You need to feel your skin.” Your hand trembled as you obeyed, bunching the fabric of your top until the cool air kissed the warmth of your stomach. You pressed your palm there gently, and the intimacy of the act—doing it for him, guided by only his voice—made your breath catch.

“I’d love to kiss you there,” he murmured. “Right on your tummy… slow. Soft. You’d feel my lips before you’d even see my face. Can you touch where you’d want me to kiss you?” You swallowed thickly, your hand brushing over your stomach again, then up, tracing the curve of your ribs, grazing the side of your breast. You dared a pass over the top of your panties, the soft cotton warm from your skin. You inhaled shakily, your breath hitching loud enough for him to hear.

“Where did you imagine me kissing you?” he asked, his tone quieter now—lower, darker. You hesitated. “There,” you said, voice barely a whisper. “On my stomach… my chest… and…” you paused, heat rushing to your cheeks, fingers curling slightly. “And between my legs.”

The silence on the line was broken by a sharp exhale from him—half groan, half breathless curse. “God,” Jungkook muttered, and your name followed, rough on his tongue. “You’d want that?” Your heart pounded as you nodded, even though he couldn’t see. “Yeah,” you admitted softly. “I think about it.”

He let out another slow breath, almost as if he were trying to steady himself. “I’d love that too,” he said. “I’d kiss you, taste you… take my time. Then sink my fingers into you so slow.” His voice was tight now, careful. “Would you be wet enough for me?”

You shivered at the question, body already thrumming with the heaviness of want. But you made a soft, unsure sound—almost embarrassed at not knowing, at being this turned on just from his voice. “Then check,” Jungkook said gently, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Just… slip your panties to the side. Touch yourself. Feel what I do to you.” With shaking fingers, you did as he asked. And the moment your fingertips grazed over your center, slick and sensitive, you gasped—a quiet, surprised “oh” slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

Jungkook groaned like he’d been punched in the gut. “You’re already that wet?” he asked, his voice breaking around the edges. “Y/N…”

“Jungkook…” you whispered helplessly, his name trembling from your mouth like a prayer, like a need too big to hold in your chest. “Keep touching yourself,” Jungkook said softly—his voice so low it nearly unraveled you. There was a rasp to it now, almost like he was the one aching. “Please, Y/N... don’t stop.”

The word “please” caught you off guard. It was nearly a whisper, and something in the way he said it made your heart twist. It wasn’t just lust—it was longing, it was closeness across thousands of miles. He wasn’t just turned on. He was with you.

You swallowed hard, your hand still resting between your legs as your body pulsed with need. You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, imagining him doing it, and let your fingers move just the tiniest bit—exploring what was already so sensitive.

“Jungkook…” you breathed, voice cracking. “I—I feel too empty.” It came out unfiltered, ungraceful, and filled with frustrated need. You winced at your own words, feeling like you were doing this all wrong, too awkward, too vulnerable. But Jungkook’s voice came right back, steady and tender. “Breathe. Just breathe for me.”

You took a shaky breath in, and the gentle hush of his voice wrapped around you like a blanket.

“I know, jagi. I know,” he said. “I would love nothing more than to be there right now… to fill you, to touch you how you deserve. But right now, I need your help. Can you do that for me?” His voice was like heaven—deep, rich, coaxing every wall you had to melt into warmth.

You nodded automatically, your lips parting with a soft sound of agreement before remembering again that he couldn’t see you. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I… I can.” There was a pause—just the sound of him breathing on the other end—and then he let out a low, ragged groan at your willingness.

“What… what should I do?” you asked quietly. “How should I touch myself How would you...?” He exhaled sharply. You could hear it in his throat, the way your words knocked the air from him. “Ugh,” he whispered. “You’re perfect. You have no idea what you do to me.” Then, after a beat, his voice came back with that same gentle authority that made you want to listen to every word. “Start slow, jagi. Just one finger, okay? Take your time.”

You let your fingers glide over yourself again—more intentionally this time, more aware of how wet you were, how much your body was already responding to his voice alone. “Tell me how it feels,” Jungkook said, quieter now. “I want to hear it all. I want to imagine it like I’m there.”

You bit your lip and whimpered softly, hips tilting into your hand. “Warm… and soft,” you managed, barely forming the words. “Sensitive. I… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Jungkook let out another broken sound on the other end, like he was barely holding it together. You did exactly as Jungkook had asked—slow, careful, drawing little circles over where you were aching, your clint, letting your breath catch and spill into the phone over and over. For a few moments, the world narrowed down to the quiet between you, filled with the soft sounds of your breathing and his voice—low, patient, completely wrapped around you like velvet.

But the softness didn’t last long. “Jungkook,” you whimpered, his name escaping like a gasp, a plea already halfway formed on your lips. “I… I… I am—”

You broke off with a breathy groan, unable to hold back the wave of feeling rushing up from inside you. Jungkook let out a quiet laugh, warm and knowing. “Impatient already?” He knew you well now. Well enough to tease without hurting, to press without pushing.

“Not impatient,” you huffed, breath shallow. “Just… wet. I’m so wet, I need more. Please.”

You heard him inhale sharply. “Jagi,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. “You’re going to kill me.” There was the sound of shifting fabric, and then his tone dropped, deep and reverent. “You’ve been so good for me… go ahead. Use a second finger. I want you to feel full.”

You didn’t hesitate. And the moment your body adjusted, you let out a soft, satisfied groan—sweet and aching. It felt better. Not complete, not even close, but better. Jungkook groaned softly in response, the sound wrecked and raw. “That sound—God, I wish I could see you. I should’ve called you on FaceTime.”

You smiled into the phone, flushed and breathing heavy, your voice quiet but daring. “Jungkook… what am I doing to you right now?” There was silence for a moment, just the sound of him shifting, and then he chuckled under his breath—a low, broken sound.

“You’re driving me insane,” he murmured. “That sound you make—I swear I can taste you on my lips. It’s like my body thinks I’m there with you.” You whimpered again, and his voice dropped even lower. “I’m so hard,” he admitted, breath catching. “I had to… I couldn’t just sit here doing nothing. I needed to touch myself too. Just enough to keep the edge off. Just enough to not lose it.”

Even without seeing him, you could picture him—lips parted, brow furrowed, the way his hair might fall into his eyes as he held himself. Precum slowly dripping down his shaft. The distance between your bodies was sharp, but the connection? That was blinding.

“I wish you were here,” you whispered.

Jungkook hummed, pained and tender. “I’m with you, jagi. Right here.”

“I want to hear you too,” you whisper, voice breathless and edged with a quiet plea. “Jungkook… I need to hear you.”

For a beat, there’s nothing. Then a low groan hums through the line—deep, rough, drawn from somewhere at the very core of him. Your breath catches. It’s not just a sound—it’s him unraveling, just for you.

“Yeah?” he growls, “Nothing compares to the way you make me feel… even miles away.” The words are choked with awe and aching want, reverent and real. “I want to touch you. Push your tiny little hand away and fill you so good. You would feel so good around me too. All wet and tight. Wouldn’t you?” You shudder, clinging to the sound of his voice as if it could hold you. He was so far—but he felt like he was right there, breathing with you, guiding you.

“Touch yourself more,” he says, voice growing firm but still laced with heat. “Faster now. I want you to feel it—I want your body to remember this the next time I see you. Because the moment I get my hands on you again…” he pauses, breath catching. “I’ll make sure you feel so full again. Watch how I would sink myself inside you. Give you exactly what you need. Play with your pretty tits. Fuck you stupid. Till you not even remember your own name.”

The sound that slips from your lips is helpless, wanting. You obey—your fingers moving faster, your thumb finding that perfect spot—and it’s almost too much. Your body tenses, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter.

“I’m close,” you manage to gasp, trembling. “Jungkook—I’m so close—”

“Don’t stop,” he growls, the command wrapped in velvet and fire. “Don’t you dare stop, Jagi. You are mine. Come for me.” That tone—that authority—it sends you over the edge.

Your breath fractures. Your back arches. A cry escapes you, raw and quiet and broken as pleasure crashes through you like a wave. Your legs tremble, heart racing, the high cresting through you in pulsing waves. You can’t even think—you can only feel, and he’s right there on the other end of it.

Then—his voice again. A hoarse groan. A curse, hot and bitten off.

“God, fuck,” he pants, the words all tangled and soft. “You did so well for me. So perfect.”

You try to catch your breath—but something else creeps in with the aftershocks. A quiet ache. Your chest tightens. Your eyes sting. And before you can stop it, the words slip free, fragile and cracked. “I want you here with me, Jungkook,” you whisper. “Right now. I just… I want you here.”

The line is quiet for a heartbeat. Then you hear him exhale, shaky and low. “I know, jagi,” he murmurs, voice suddenly tender again, grounding. “I want that too. So bad. More than you know.” And even though your bodies are worlds apart, his voice is right there with you—soft and real, brushing against the rawest part of your heart. “Just a little longer,” he whispers. “We’ll be together soon. I promise.”

You nod again, even though he can’t see it—biting your lip, trying to will away the tears that threaten to spill. Your body is still trembling, not from the release, but from the ache of distance. Of loving someone who can’t hold you tonight.

A whisper leaves your lips, cracked and quiet. “Okay…”

And it breaks Jungkook’s heart a little. Not just because you sounded so small—but because he knows that ache. He feels it too, right now, in the hollow between his ribs where your warmth should be. And he can’t help you with it, not how you deserve. He clenches his jaw, breathes slowly through his nose.

Tomorrow—he needed to talk to his agent first thing. He didn’t care what meetings or rehearsals got shuffled. He needed to see you sooner, even if only for a day. Just long enough to hold you in his arms and kiss the doubt and ache from your chest.

“I can stay on the phone a little longer,” Jungkook says gently. “If you want. We don’t have to hang up yet.” You hesitate, the ache still raw in your chest. “Don’t you… didn’t you say you might go live with Jimin tonight?”

There’s a pause—brief but telling—and then his voice comes through, warm and certain. “Yeah, I need to. But that can wait. You come first. I always have time for you.” Your throat tightens, eyes stinging again—not from sadness now, but from how easily he says that. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like loving you isn’t an inconvenience, but a priority.

“Can you…” you pause to clear your throat softly, “Can you tell me about your day?”

“Of course,” he says, voice immediately softening even more, like he’s settling in just to be close to you. “You wanna hear about the boring stuff or the good stuff?”

“All of it,” you whisper, letting yourself sink further into your pillow, needing his voice to anchor you. “Even the boring stuff. I just want to hear you.”

And just like that, he starts talking—gentle, rambling little details about his day: training, rehearsal, the new concept, what he had for lunch, a funny thing one of the staff said. And every word he speaks eases the weight pressing down on your chest. He says your name so gently it feels like a kiss. “I miss you too.” His admits. Quiet. Honest. “More than I thought was possible.”

There’s a pause. Neither of you say anything for a moment. You just breathe together—connected by the line, by the silence, by the way your hearts beat in tandem even with oceans between you. “You were beautiful tonight,” he says after a while. “Not just the… y’know.” He chuckles gently. “But, trying this with me. Trusting me. I don’t take that for granted. Not for a second. And… I didn’t want to make you sad tonight.”

You sniff, and this time, it’s a little laugh through your tears. “I am not sad. I’m glad you called.”

“I’d call every night, if it made you feel close,” he says. “If it helped you sleep.”

You feel better now. So much better. After hearing his voice, after the way he touched you with nothing but words—pulling you apart so sweetly and then putting you back together even gentler. Your heart no longer feels like it’s splintering under the weight of missing him. And now that you're settled, soft and safe again, you exhale a little laugh.

“You should clean up,” you murmur into the phone, your voice teasing but still thick with affection. Jungkook chuckles lowly, and the sound feels like velvet slipping down your spine. “Are you kicking me off the phone now?” he asks playfully.

“Well,” you hum, “you said you need to go live with Jimin… You should go. I’m okay now.”

There's a hesitation—just a beat, but you hear it. Feel it.

“Are you sure?” he asks, serious now, no teasing left. “I don’t wanna leave you if you’re still feeling shaky.”

“I’m not,” you say, a little smile curling on your lips. “You already fixed me. Twice, actually. So go already. I’m want to watch you.”

“You’re gonna what?” he teases, his grin practically audible. “I’m gonna watch the live,” you reply, grinning now. “For as long as I can stay awake. That way… I still get to see you today.” Jungkook groans playfully. “That’s so unfair. You get to look at me, and I still don’t get to see your pretty face.”

You laugh, blushing quietly. “Next time.”

His voice softens again. “Last chance. Are you sure you’re good?”

“Yes, Jungkook. I’m good. Go. Or Jimin will roast you for being late.”

He sighs with a dramatic little pout you can imagine so clearly. “Okay, okay. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

And with that, the call ends, the line going quiet—but your chest feels warm instead of empty this time.

After a quick bathroom run and a change of clothes—your pj’s to be precise. You tuck yourself deeper into the blankets, cheeks still flushed and heart beating slow and soft. You blink sleepily at the screen and smile as you connect to Jimin’s live, waiting for Jungkook to appear.

The live is cozy—Jimin is sitting cross-legged on the floor, talking directly to the camera, his tone light and animated as he tells the ARMYs a story about rehearsal mishaps and how he nearly tripped over his own feet during a practice run.

And then—a knock echoes offscreen.

Jimin pauses mid-sentence, blinking at the door. “Oh?” he says, glancing back. “Hold on, everyone. Someone’s at my door.”

You watch the screen tilt slightly as Jimin sets the phone down and walks off-camera. The audio picks up the sound of him unlocking and opening the door—and then a familiar voice laughs low and warm.

“Finally,” Jungkook says.

The camera jostles as Jimin comes back into frame, followed by Jungkook, who’s dressed down in a hoodie and loose joggers, his dark hair slightly messy. He gives a small, sheepish wave at the camera with that signature bunny grin.

“Yah,” Jimin says, sitting again, “took you long enough.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says with an innocent laugh. “I had something important to do.”

Jimin side-eyes him but doesn’t press. Instead, he scoots over to give Jungkook room and nudges him in the ribs. “Well, welcome. Everyone’s been waiting.”

Your heart flutters as Jungkook settles in beside Jimin, his smile soft but tired. He looks down at the screen and waves again, his fingers brushing his bottom lip like they still remember you. “Please forgive me, ARMY.”

And just like that, the ache of missing him melts into something gentler. And as he settles into the live, talking and laughing beside Jimin, you curl into your blanket, watching him glow on your screen.

You watch them—Jimin chatting animatedly, gesturing with his hands as he recounts some hilarious backstage mishap, while Jungkook lounges beside him, relaxed and quiet at first, just listening. His legs are sprawled comfortably in front of him, one arm propped behind his head as he leans slightly toward Jimin, eyes soft with amusement as his friend rambles.

You're curled on your side, the phone warm in your hand, the screen casting a gentle glow against your cheeks. Your eyes blink slower now, sleep brushing over your lashes like a wave, but you keep watching.

Jungkook glances down at his phone for a second, his thumb moving casually as he types something. Then—suddenly—his whole face breaks into a wide, boyish grin. That unmistakable, gummy smile. He tries to bite it back, but fails miserably, and he looks up at the camera with his ears turning faintly pink. Jimin gives him a look, raising an eyebrow. “What?” he asks suspiciously.

Jungkook just shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says with a shrug, barely able to keep a straight face. Jimin squints at him, but then drops it, turning back to the stream. “He’s being weird again,” he tells the viewers. “Just ignore him.”

But your screen lights up with a new notification—and your heart does a slow somersault.

Kookie 🖤: Good night. Don’t stay up too long.

Your breath catches as warmth spreads through your chest, your lips parting in the kind of smile that only he could pull out of you—tired, shy, and so full of affection it aches. On the screen, Jungkook’s still grinning stupidly, his eyes twinkling under the soft room light, like he knows exactly what he's just done to you.

You reply with a quiet tap of your fingers:

You: I won’t. I just wanted to see you a little longer.

Then you let your phone slip down slightly, resting it on the pillow beside you as you watch him one last time tonight. His laugh rumbles low when Jimin teases him again, and you tuck yourself in tighter, safe in the knowledge that you’re still on his mind.

Even when the screen finally goes dark, and your eyes close, you carry that image with you—Jungkook, smiling just for you. The ache hasn’t disappeared completely—but it’s dulled by the quiet certainty that he’s yours. Even when the distance stretches far, his heart is still wrapped around you.

And for now, that’s more than enough.

Masterlist

Tags: @dachshunddame @hecatesdescendant

A/N: Hi! Just wanted to mention that I use ChatGPT and DeepL to clean up grammar and spelling in my writing. English is my second language, and this tools help me share stories the way I imagine them, without spending hours double-checking every word. Writing is just a hobby I enjoy after a full workweek—I’m not trying to make money from it. If you’re curious or have thoughts on it, I’d love to have a friendly discussion!

#jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook bts #bts #jeon jungguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #just a normal night

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ooffmlsorry · 3 days ago

Note

Heyy!! If youre not too flooded with requests i hope you can take this second one <3 again ignore this if you got too many 🩷 I wanna see luffy with the "step away from the tree and put the present down" prompt! I feel like it matches him alot!

Hopefully this brings you some joy even though it's been literally a year and a half!! The world is on fire so hopefully this is a pleasant surprise! Also I'm sorry it skips around so much, I had an idea with a lot of moving parts, but it was fun to write and I hop you enjoy it! It's quite long but maybe that's a good thing! Also also I'm very, very, very, very, very very, sorry!

Loving You is Easy

Luffy x f!reader; pure fluff

Dividers by @nicodefresas

A/N: this takes place over the holidays because this was supposed to be finished in December of 2023...

A new island, clear sky, tame locals. Usopp puts a foot on the ship's edge, chest puffed out and hands on his hips. He breathes in the salty sea air mixed with the scents of the town.

"Now this is an island I can get behind," he says pleased.

Gulls screech and waves crash.

"How scenic," Robins agrees.

"I SMELL FOOD!" Luffy's already headed for the side of the ship. He pulls you so hard you're nearly falling behind him, like you do every time you come to a new island. Your boyfriend is perpetually tugging you along on the next adventure, smile bright, eyes shining, and his hand warm and tight around yours.

"C'mon, Y/N! Let's go!"

"Unh uh, not so fast Luffy! Where do you think you're going?" Nami yells. She grabs a hold of his vest before he can make it off the ship, hooking him like a fish on a line, and reeling him back.

"One second, Y/N" Nami says sweetly. "I just need to remind our captain of something very important. You go on!" She shoos you away with her hands.

You watch in confusion as Nami whispers something in Luffy's ear. Whatever it is, you're clearly not meant to hear it.

"Ooooohhh!" Luffy exclaims at Nami. He pauses to think for a moment, tongue poking between his lips in thought. "I guess I should do that today, huh?"

Something about that enrages Nami. "You guess!?" She yells. She grabs the bridge of her nose as if trying to stop an oncoming headache and whispers something else.

Luffy pouts, "Why can't she come with us? 'M gonna miss her!"

Sensing whatever this is, you're not supposed to be a part of it you come closer. "It's okay, Luffy, I'll see you later. Then we can tell each other about our adventures."

Luffy frowns, indecisive, "it'd be better if you were with me, though."

How is he so sweet!? Your heart squeezes with affection. "I know Lu, but it looks like you've got something secret going on. It'll be fine." You press a kiss to his cheek that makes him glow. somewhere in the distance Sanji groans in jealousy. "Go do whatever you have to do."

Luffy brightens immediately. "I'll do whatever I need to do and then I'll come find you, okay!?"

"Aye aye captain," you salute him. You decide to be on 'keep Zoro from getting lost' duty in order to distract yourself from missing Luffy, while he does....whatever Nami's so insistent about.

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟

"Now pay attention," Nami says, striding through the street with Ussopp, Robin, Chopper, and Luffy in tow. "The Holiday is in three days, you better have something in mind to get Y/N while we're in town. You've got a girlfriend now, and it's your job to act accordingly."

Luffy stares at her, a dull look behind his eyes that they all know as the "Luffy's not getting it" look. He scratches his head in thought, "act accordingly?"

"Yes! You bonehead, something that shows you know her and you love her," Nami says. Her voice turns rough and dark, a threat forming. "You do love my best friend, right Luffy?"

"Of course I do!" Luffy puffed up. "You're her best friend, I'm her boyfriend! I love Y/N more than anyone in the whole world!"

A satisfied smile spreads across Nami's face, obviously the correct answer, "so we're going to go find her something together, I'll pay for it, and then you pay me back...with interest of course." Her eyes gleam. Everyone could practically see the Berry signs flashing in them.

"Should I warn him it'll be at 400% interest?" Ussopp whispers loudly to Robin.

"250% interest, actually," Nami says. "I like Y/N and she deserves a good gift. I think we should get her something shiny."

"Nah," Luffy says. It doesn't feel right in his gut. He knows you wear only the same necklace, dangling from your neck whenever you bend down in front of him. Never takes it off. Never changes. "I don't think she likes that kind of stuff."

"Books?" Chopper suggests.

"Oh! A sketch book!" Ussopp says.

"New clothes?" Nami adds.

"She said I'm not allowed to pick her clothes after the neon yellow pants." Luffy's small smile breaks from a grin into a full blown laugh at the memory. "I thought she looked great in 'em, though! You should've seen her!"

"It was hard to miss her," Robin laughs behind her hand. "We were there Luffy..."

"Oh...I forgot." Sometimes that happened, not all that often, but sometimes he felt like the two of you were the only people in the world and the world was only as big as the room the two of you were in. And he sorta liked that.

"Best to respect her wishes," Robin says.

"Just think of something she likes," Chopper suggests helpfully.

"Or something she's mentioned she needs," Robin adds.

They could all practically see the steam coming out of Luffy's ears as he tried to think of something. All he could recall is you. Your smile, your laugh, your hand in his, soft fingers on his skin and in his hair. The high sun sharpening the color of your eyes. Nights tangled in each other where he slept better than he could ever remember.

Luffy slumps as he walk, "now I miss Y/N even more!"

Nami slows until she's in pace with her captain. Honestly, she should've seen this coming. Of course they all know Luffy is obsessed with you but romantic gestures aren't really his forte.

"C'mon Luffy, there has to be something in there you know she likes."

"She likes when I show her cool stuff, like rocks, and dead bugs, and flowers, and sea shells" Luffy grumbles. "Why can't I just get her more of that?"

"Good grief," Ussopp rolls his eyes. "This is going to take all day..."

The group walks through stalls and stores, picking up things they need (and a few they don't) until their feet feel sore and the sun has sunk lower into the sky. Luffy's brain (what little the crew thinks there is) is practically leaking from his ears.

"I can't believe you can't think of a single thing to get her!"

"I never would've thought Y/N would be so hard to shop for..." Ussopp says glumly.

"Wouldn't it be easier if she came with us? Then I could ask her and I'd know exactly what to get her?"

"It's supposed to be a surprise," Ussopp sighs. "That's kind of the whole point."

"Uggghhh" Luffy groans loudly.

Robin's face stays placid, unlike the rest of them, she has no doubt things will turn out fine. "Maybe a night's rest will help, you still have tonight to see if she's mentioned anything."

Nami droops like a wilted, "and Y/N got you such a good gift..." She whines.

Luffy stops in his tracks, head cocked to the side and eyes wide. "She did?"

"Yeah," Nami moans. "That's why you have to find something just as good."

The others wait while Luffy takes in this information, suddenly he speaks, "well what did she get me!?"

"I CAN'T TELL YOU THAT!" Nami clocks him on the head just for asking. "C'mon..." She drags a dazed Luffy by his vest behind her. "Everyone else has probably made it back to the Sunny by now."

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟

Luffy watches you with intense concentration, an unnerving amount of concentration actually. "What's the matter, Lu?"

"I'm looking for hints," he says seriously. Luffy sits on your bed, legs criss-crossed, with one of your pillows in his arms. He'd much rather have you, but he'll settle for something that smells like you.

"Hints for what?"

"Can't tell you," he says, his words still shortened with concentration.

"Okaaay," you say sweetly.

You continue to straighten up around him while he watches you. By now you've figured out that he's trying to think of something to get you for the holiday. You watch him out the corner of your eye, lips pursed in thought, brows furrowed. You want to kiss the line forming between them but stop yourself. To be honest, you didn't really want anything, so you had nothing to mention. You're happy with him and the others on the Sunny, going on adventures and being with your friends--family, at this point honestly.

"You know..." you say slowly, gently. "You don't have to get me anything."

What!? No!" Luffy shoots that down immediately. As if that's not an option. Not possible. "You deserve a really nice gift! Nami says you got me something really nice too! Wait! What did you get me?"

You grin mischievously. Damn right you got him a good gift. If Luffy thought you were hard to shop for, he's downright impossible. He would be happy with almost anything, but what do you give to someone like that when you truly love them? "I can't tell you," you sing at him, wagging your finger.

"Aww," he pouts. "Why not?"

"Because it'd ruin the surprise!" You say," And all my hard work!"

Luffy's rubber arms stretch around you, pulling you into his lap. His chin fits into the crook of your neck like a puzzle piece clicking into place. "But I wanna knoooow! Just a little hint?"

"Nope!" You giggle.

"Then you're staying here until you tell me or until I think of something!" If it weren't for the dinner bell, he may have made good on that promise.

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟

Luffy gave up pestering you about it after dinner, but that didn't mean he wasn't still thinking about the gifts.

"I don't think I've ever seen him think this hard about one thing in his life," Zoro says.

Brook nods solemnly. "Our captain is indeed doomed. My heart would be racing with panic...if I had one."

"Shut up!" Luffy says miserably. "I'm trying to think. If she got me something really nice, I need to figure out something nice to give her..." You love collecting the little things you've picked up on your adventures: seashells, flowers, rocks, pictures. You're so loving with everything you find, rearranging them, always looking for some way to keep them safe. It was one of his favorite things about you. But what could he do with that?

"Why don't you just look?" Zoro says, looking bored but clearly invested in helping. "There's a big stack of gifts, a tree, decorations, the whole thing, sitting in the aquarium bar, you'd know that if you ever went in there. Just find what Y/N got you, maybe it will give you an idea?"

Luffy sits up, "I could do that?"

"You'd have to sneak...." Zoro shrugs, "but yeah, probably."

"That's not the worst idea...is it? If he just peeked?" Usopp says.

Luffy groans, "Why is this stupid holiday so complicated!"

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟

Luffy lays on his back, one hand behind his head, the other petting you as you sleep. Your breath ghosts over the scar on his chest. Normally, he sleeps sprawled out on top of you, but tonight he wanted you in his arms. "I'm gonna find out what you got me, and then I'm gonna get you something just as good," he says quietly. A promise.

It's settled then.

Luffy maneuvers from underneath you, quite possibly the quietest he's ever been, and watches as you curl into a ball without him. Like a roly-poly. You're my little roly-poly. He breaks out into a grin at the thought and smothers his laugh with his hand. On the way out he passes all of your knick-knacks and keepsakes, the crew's bounty posters, pressed leaves, and whittled statues from locals. He stared at the empty spot where one of your keepsakes had been. You were so heartbroken when it shattered.

"Just gotta be super quiet and super sneaky," Luffy says to himself while he sneaks down the hall of the Sunny. He has no idea what time it is, except that it's dark and starry outside without a hint of sunrise. "Good time for sneaking!" He giggles. "This is actually gonna be fun!"

Luffy opened the aquarium bar door quietly and shut it behind him. The sight of the room makes him gasp. A tree sparkles and shimmers in the middle of the room; dappled light reflects across the glass.

"Woah! This place looks amazing!" Luffy slaps his hands over his mouth instantly and spins towards the door, waiting tensely.

1....2....3....Nothing.

He lets out a deep sigh and continues to the presents. There are whole bunches of wrapped presents from everyone to everyone.

"Now I just need to find the one that's from Y/N to me." Luffy rubs his hands together and begins to dig through the pile carelessly, saying "nope!" as he moves through each one until he finds an unassuming-looking chest.

From: Y/N To: My captain and beloved

The box is smooth, except a few scratches and dents, and clearly crafted carefully, the shining wood reflects his smile back at him. "Found it!" First, he shakes it, hearing something rattle dully inside. Then, he tries to pry it open with his hands.

It doesn't budge.

He tries harder. And then even harder.

It doesn't creak.

"Damn! What's this box made of!?"

"Step away from the tree and put the present down, bro," Franky says.

Luffy startles, dropping it to the floor. He tries his best innocent face even though he's clearly been caught. "What present?"

Franky just laughs, loud and hearty, as if it isn't the dead of night, "You're full of it, man," he says and walks toward him. "You're not gonna be able to get into that thing. I built it out of the scraps of Adam wood left over, just to keep anybody out of whatever Y/N got you. Including you."

Franky picks up the box and Luffy feels his hope dwindle. "Got half the crew to test it out, see how it's kind of messed up?" He points toward the thin slices. "That's Zoro." And the burn marks. "That's Sanji's attempt." The wood's surface was crackled slightly. "Nami." He went on. "I really tested this thing. Anything in here is going to be safe for at least a lifetime."

"Woah..." Luffy stares at it in amazement. The gears in his brain begin to turn. "Anything?"

"Just about, I mean food would probably rot in here," Franky says thoughtfully. "If you put like glass and then a rock, the glass would probably break if they bumped into each other..."

Luffy's head shot up. "What if something held the rock down?"

"Oh yeah, then everything in there would be super safe."

Luffy's smile lit up his face like dawn. "You wanna help me with my gift for Y/N?"

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟

Luffy's in a better mood this morning and up before you're even out of bed. He wakes you up by flopping on you, pressing kisses to your face and laughing in your ear.

He barely lets go of you the whole morning, always an arm around your waist, a hand in yours, fingers in your hair, noses touching. You're smothered by an excitable Luffy and all his affection for you. He's practically vibrating by time presents begin to be unwrapped.

"I have to open mine first!" Luffy says. He stretches to grab the box, but otherwise doesn't move, doesn't want you to leave his lap where he can keep you close and occasionally latch his lips to your soft skin.

You expect him to struggle with it, after all, Franky said was damn near impossible to get into. But Luffy opens it easily, doing the trick that Franky showed you.

"Huh?" Luffy holds up a key in front of both of you. "You got me a key?"

You grin. "Yup!" You chirp happily.

Luffy adjusts you so he can see your face, his head cocks to the side. "A key to what?"

Your smile turns devious, "a key to the only thing locked on this ship you'd ever want to open."

Silence has never been so loud as it dawns on the crew where that key goes.

Sanji stares at the key.

Zoro chokes on his sip of sake.

"You're going to kill us all!!" Chopper yells. "WE'RE GONNA STARVE!!!"

"Starve?" Luffy says, staring at the key. You delight in watching his face change from confusion to absolute joy. "THE PANTRY KEY!?" Your laughter confirms. He wraps his arms around you twice over and crashes his lips to yours. "You're the best girlfriend ever!" Luffy hops up, setting you down, and races away.

"Don't worry," Sanji says. "I hid enough that we won't die. We'll change locks at the next island, let him have a little fun."

You smile at Sanji knowingly, "Thanks for being a dear, Sanji."

Sanji sighs around his cigarette, "I can't say no to an angel, even if it's to let our gluttonous captain eat all the food on the ship."

"OH!" Luffy runs back, his face beams like the sun itself. "I have your gift, Y/N! It's the box!"

"After all that you got her a box!?" Nami yells.

"I didn't think you'd come back," you say.

"Course I would, I'll eat later," he says, distractedly looking through all the wrapping and tissue paper. I'll eat later might be one of highest praises Luffy could give and you glow under it. He puts me above food. "This box is really strong! AH!" Luffy holds up the box triumphantly and hands it to you. "Now you can keep all your treasure safe?"

You're still basking in the realization he loves you more than food, so you don't understand. "My treasure?"

"Yeah," he says. "All the pictures and seashells and stuff, this box will keep 'em safe and they won't knock into each other!"

You stare at the box now in your hands. You hadn't thought of that...you were thinking of keeping everyone out and not what you could put in it. But Luffy did.

It's such a Luffy gift to take something discarded and give it a new purpose. To think of a new way to protect the things you hold dear. Luffy isn't good with words or romantic gestures but everything he does is loud, including love. The things that mattered to you, mattered just as much to him just because they were yours.

"And, it's got all our marks on it," Luffy says. He begins to explain each scratch and dent on the box and the fact that's made from the same wood as the Sunny. "This one's mine." He points to two dents overlapping in the shape of a heart. "It's like we're all a part of it too!" He grins.

"Oh, Luffy..." You press your palms to your eyes before hot tears can begin to fall.

"Pretty good, right!?" He says proudly.

You nod. The lump in your throat is too big to speak, and then finally. "Yeah, it's pretty good."

Luffy feels warm against your skin as he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. There's no box big enough to contain all the love you have for each other, but this is a pretty good start.

#one piece #one piece x reader #luffy x reader #luffy x you #that one time i did requests

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yanderes-galore · 2 days ago

Note

Having thoughts about Overblotting in Twisted Wonderland causing darling's regular lover to turn yandere, a bit like the yandere infection AU. Can I get a version of that for Idia Shroud?

So it looks like this doesn't take place in the main story... So I'll see what I can put together for this AU? Here's my favorite TWST character ever... He just like me fr 🤭

IF ANYONE HAS IDEAS TO PROPERLY FLESH OUT THIS AU, LET ME KNOW, I LIKE THE THOUGHT OF IT. I HAVE SOME IDEAS FOR THE ORIGIN OF IT BUT I THINK I'LL WAIT FOR THIS TO POST FIRST.

❗️Possible TWST Book 6 Spoilers Below❗️

Yandere! Overblot! Idia Shroud

(Yandere Infection AU Version)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Violence, Stalking, Kidnapping, Clingy behavior, Attempted murder briefly mentioned, Consensual turned forced relationship.

If we're to make an AU centered around this... Maybe more blot occurs from a magic user's obsession?

Blot itself is already tied to emotional connections if not artificially started.

So... Maybe characters overblotting due to their obsession starts due to being given something?

For example, love potions or some sort of magic enhancement that has severe side effects?

I like to imagine maybe this infection started because Idia was researching blot.

His curse naturally makes him burn off blot... yet maybe while testing some or trying a new enhancement, he starts to act weird.

Idia doesn't interact with people much.

The only people close to him are Ortho... and you.

In this AU, you and Idia are in an established relationship.

He doesn't have many friends due to his job and antisocial nature.

Yet you still managed to connect with him, perhaps another soul similar to him in interests and nature?

Idia didn't think he'd fall for anyone that isn't fictional.

But he somehow managed to score you, someone he can't help but feel giddy around.

Maybe you're the prefect sent from another world?

You have no idea when you'll be getting home... So you decided to befriend Idia in a club.

Then said meetings eventually became hang outs...

Then Idia found himself catching feelings.

He was no doubt a mess when confessing, too.

He knows he probably shouldn't fall for someone from another world... but it's right out of an isekai plot and he can't help it...!

You're so cute too... He just had to make a move before anyone else did...!

Even if Idia knew a relationship with you wouldn't last long, it's the best thing that's ever happened to him.

You bring him out to places other than clubs at school, you make him come out of his shell...

He even often invites you to Ignihyde just so he can have your attention.

Something tells me Idia enjoys private cuddles with you while gaming or watching something.

You never judge him... and that's only one of the reasons he adores you.

So, honestly, your relationship starts mutual.

You and Idia love each other, Idia even using his tech to watch your every move and help with the recent overblotting situation.

Yet he never thought he could overblot with his curse.

It burns too fast in his system, if anything it should just power him.

However... What if Idia was researching blot to find better ways to help you defend yourself against it....

He knows you aren't as affected by it as magic users, but the miasma and strength of phantoms can still harm you.

Last thing Idia wants is you being harmed.

So, in secret, Idia starts finding ways to benefit you due to the recent Overblot issues.

At first it's mostly easy since he's connected to S.T.Y.X.

Yet maybe for this AU... Things start going wrong.

While researching one of the Overblot stones Grim is so fond of to try and weaponize blot, Idia ends up catching something.

It's... a different sort of blot than the others, maybe?

Even the stone has a strange pink tint when he collects it before Grim gobbles it.

Idia doesn't notice the effects at first.

Sure, he's a bit lethargic... but that could just be his sleep schedule.

Plus... All symptoms seem to go away when he's with you.

Idia's not worried, if blot is truly the issue then his curse should take care of it.

Yet... That doesn't seem to be the issue completely.

Idia's symptoms get worse the longer he's away from you.

It's akin to a lovesickness... Making Idia miss you more and more.

It starts as yearning, a more intense feeling than what he's used to.

Idia often watches your every move through his tech... trying his hardest to distract himself with his games.

Yet he keeps trying to experiment with that strange Overblot stone... and he can't get you out of his head.

He suddenly becomes more clingy too.

Idia is normally never seen out of his dorm until you visit him or go to clubs.

When you try to go to class, Idia slips in to sit by you.

Your boyfriend barely uses the tablet at times, just leaning against you like a lovesick puppy.

If you look closely, his golden eyes swirl a certain darkness in them... but you can mistake it for something else.

A trick of the mind, maybe....

During lunch Idia cuddles against you, whining about just heading back to his dorm.

Perhaps he even attempts PDA due to the needy nature he's developing, kissing your neck gently as he begs for your attention.

You can barely go to Ramshackle with how intense Idia becomes.

You're always dragged to Ignihyde, Idia pushing you on his bed and cuddling up to you.

Ortho is no doubt going to notice something is up, yet even he struggles to comprehend it.

His brother has a strangely high amount of blot accumulation in his system... Yet that shouldn't be the case?

The curse should burn it away... yet this blot clings to his system, maybe even around his heart.

Idia's behavior is far from normal for a boyfriend.

You can barely pry him off you nowadays, the man clinging to you and kissing you as he whispers about needing you.

Later, violence develops.

Suddenly Ace, Deuce, and even Grim are threats.

Soon other dorm leaders are trying to steal you.

To Idia, everyone becomes an enemy but you.

Ortho tries to help diagnose Idia running scans and tests, maybe even suggesting Idia get himself checked at S.T.Y.X.

Idia, however, despises the idea of leaving you at NRC.

Is he an idiot or something? Letting others run off with you?

No, to Idia, the perfect love story would involve locking you away with him.

If he goes to S.T.Y.X... You'll be coming with him.

Which means, no one else will get to have you.

Surely Ortho will understand his older brother's plight?

Honestly, when you refuse to go with him to S.T.Y.X or someone pushes things too far by doing something as simple as asking to hang out...

Idia may just Overblot.

It's... Almost unlike his Overblot in Book 6.

To make it different for this new AU, the nlot that comes from him holds a pinkish color mixed with the black.

It's an Overblot made from negative emotions still... but this time it's obsession or jealousy.

Idia has a vague sense of awareness.

All he really cares about is finding you and preventing others from having you.

He burns hot, his curse finally feeding off the blot he's creating.

The miasma that soaks the air contains the same weird tint... maybe it even has a sickly sweet smell.

It makes everyone around him tired... Yet it's just as toxic as other Overblots.

Idia isn't going to calm down until he finds you.

Even then, he won't be knocked out of his Overblot until someone forces him... or his curse finally burns it all.

In the meantime... There's a good chance Idia might accidentally poison his partner due to his Overblot.

He's aware this is wrong... but can't seem to control it.

This isn't a normal Overblot... It's something different.

It... almost feels tamed once he has you in his sights.

I can see Idia trapping you against his overheating body, growling through his mask as he fully intends to level NRC if they get too close.

The phantom he creates probably still resembles Ortho or Hades... but that's up to you.

Either way, It's going to take some strong magic to soothe him... Even then, a cure is still needed.

You heard that right... I feel Idia would be able to be cleansed of his blot... but would still need a cure.

This love sickness still clings to him... Without purification, he'll just Overblot again.

Idia ends up being dragged off to S.T.Y.X... Probably due to his parents' order.

After all... The Shroud Family isn't supposed to Overblot.

This... is strange.

You yourself are probably taken in because it's assumed you were the cause.

You're researching the traces of blot on you collected and studied.

If they're lucky... They'll take the odd stone with you to lock away and study.

Meanwhile, you and Idia are kept away from one another.

Idia keeps crying out, begging to see you.

He claims this is betrayal, that he'll figure something out!

No one lets him out of his cell....

This leads Idia stew in his bitter obsession... Practically growling like an animal.

If not properly vented or purified... He could overblot again.

Part of Idia yearns for it... It felt surprisingly pleasurable.

Plus... if he Overblots again... Then he can take you back.

Not even S.T.Y.X will hold him back forever...

So hopefully a cure is made soon for the sake of both of you.

"You don't get it...! THEY'RE. MINE!"

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere overblot #yandere overblot idia shroud #yandere idia shroud #yandere idia x reader #yandere infection au

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fwaist · 1 day ago

Note

🎉🎉

congrats on 300! i’d love to request all i need by radiohead for joel from the last of us!! idk if you’ve gotten any requests for tlou yet? but go crazy go wild any genre whatever vibes the song gives you!

omg my first tlou req!!!!! i am over the MOON. thank you so much anon! i’ll do my best to fulfill your request (bars 😎)

ALL I NEED | joel miller

pairing: joel miller x afab!reader

cw: explicit sexual content, strong language, emotional vulnerability, fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), unprotected sex, oral mentions, rough language but tender tone, intense romantic themes, possessive behavior, soft dominance, dirty talk, mild praise kink, slight clothing removal, reference to past trauma and survival, potential power imbalance, brief mention of illness recovery, post-apocalyptic setting context.

tags: @destinedtobegigi, @pittsick, @bambiangels, @imperishablereverie, @angeldoll1e, @itachisank, @tennisprincess, @lexiiscorect, @esotericgirlwannabe, @lovefaist, @won-every-lottery, @zionna, @nozhdyved

The silence between you and Joel Miller has weight to it. Not the comfortable kind that settles over people who've learned each other's rhythms, but the heavy, suffocating silence of a man who's still deciding whether you're worth the bullets it would take to put you down. You've been walking behind him for three weeks now, boots crunching on broken asphalt, and you still don't know if he plans to keep you alive. Ellie walks ahead, chattering about something she read in an old comic book, her voice carrying back like a lifeline in the dead air. But Joel? Joel watches you out of the corner of his eye like you're a rabid dog on a short leash.

You know what you look like to him.

Some soft-handed survivor who probably spent the first ten years of the outbreak hiding behind someone stronger, someone better. Your clothes are too clean, your hands too smooth, your voice too quick to shake when you talk. Everything about you screams liability. When he found you crouched behind that overturned truck outside Kansas City, blood on your jacket and a gun with no bullets left in your grip, you saw the calculation in his eyes. Saw him weighing the cost of one more mouth to feed against whatever utility you might provide. You didn't beg. Couldn't find the words, really. Just sat there in the dirt and waited for him to decide.

"Get up," he'd said, voice flat as roadkill. "You're comin' with us."

Not because he wanted you to. Because Ellie had taken one look at you and said something about how you reminded her of someone she used to know. Because you had medical supplies in your pack and steady hands when you'd bandaged a cut on her arm. Because Joel Miller, for all his paranoia and stone-cold pragmatism, couldn't quite bring himself to leave you there to die. But that didn't mean he trusted you. That didn't mean he liked you. That just meant you were useful enough to keep breathing.

The first week, he barely spoke to you at all.

Just handed you a blanket one night when the temperature dropped and muttered something about pulling your weight. You did. God, you did everything you could think of to prove you belonged. Took the worst watch shifts without complaint, used your own supplies to patch up scrapes and cuts, stayed quiet when Joel made decisions you didn't understand. You learned to read the set of his shoulders, the way his jaw tightened when he was pissed, the particular brand of silence that meant he was thinking about something he didn't want to share. You learned that he liked his coffee black when there was coffee to be had, that he checked on Ellie three times every night, that he kept Sarah's watch wound even though time didn't matter anymore.

You learned to want things you had no right wanting.

Like the way he'd pause when the terrain got rough, not quite waiting for you but not leaving you behind either. Like the gruff nod he'd give when you did something right, something that made his job easier. Like the rare moments when his guard would drop just enough for you to see the man he might have been before the world ended. Those moments were dangerous. They made you forget that you were just another burden he'd picked up along the way, another mouth to feed in a world where food was scarce and trust was scarcer. They made you forget that Joel Miller didn't keep people around out of kindness.

But then you got sick.

Just a fever at first, the kind that starts as a dull ache behind your eyes and spreads through your body like wildfire. You tried to hide it, tried to keep walking even when your vision started to blur and your legs felt like they were made of water. But Joel noticed. Joel always noticed. He took one look at you swaying on your feet and cursed under his breath, the kind of creative profanity that would have made you blush under different circumstances. "Sit down," he said, not asked, and when you tried to protest he gave you a look that could have stopped a charging infected in its tracks.

"I said sit the fuck down."

You sat.

The next three days passed in a haze of sweat and shivering, your body burning itself out while Joel and Ellie made camp in an abandoned farmhouse that smelled like dust and old memories. You were dimly aware of voices arguing, of cool hands on your forehead, of someone coaxing water between your lips when your throat felt like sandpaper. When the fever finally broke and you surfaced from the fog of sickness, the first thing you saw was Joel. Sitting in a chair beside the bed where they'd laid you out, his rifle across his knees and exhaustion written in every line of his face.

"You're awake," he said, and there was something in his voice you'd never heard before. Relief, maybe. Or something close to it.

"How long—?" Your voice came out as a croak.

"Three days." He leaned forward, eyes scanning your face like he was checking for signs of relapse. "Thought we were gonna lose you for a while there."

The admission hung in the air between you, raw and unintended. Joel's jaw tightened like he'd said too much, and he looked away, focusing on something beyond the cracked window. But his hand was still on yours. Warm and calloused and steady, like he'd been holding it the whole time you were gone and didn't know how to let go now that you were back. When you tried to sit up, he pressed you back down with gentle but firm pressure.

"Easy, now. You ain't ready for that yet."

You wanted to argue, wanted to prove that you were fine, that you could pull your weight again. But the truth was that his hand on yours felt like the first solid thing you'd touched in years. Like an anchor in a world that never stopped trying to wash you away. So you stayed still, stayed quiet, and let yourself memorize the weight of his palm against your knuckles. Let yourself pretend, just for a moment, that it meant something more than medical necessity.

Later, when you were strong enough to sit up without the world spinning, Ellie told you how he'd been.

"Didn't sleep at all the first night," she said, perched on the edge of the bed like a bird ready to take flight. "Just sat there staring at you like... I don't know. Like if he looked away you'd disappear or some shit." She picked at a hole in her jeans, not quite meeting your eyes. "Scared the hell out of me, honestly. I've never seen him like that before. Not even when..." She trailed off, but you knew what she meant. Not even when she'd been the one on death's door.

The knowledge sat heavy in your chest, warm and terrifying all at once.

Because it meant something had shifted. Something you couldn't name and didn't dare examine too closely. Joel Miller didn't lose sleep over people unless they mattered to him, and you'd spent three weeks convinced you were nothing more than dead weight he was too decent to abandon. But maybe you'd been… wrong. Maybe the way he'd started bringing you things—an extra can of peaches here, a warmer jacket there, a book with half its pages missing but the other half full of stories—meant something after all. Maybe the way he'd stand just a little closer at campfires, close enough that your arms would brush when you reached for the same piece of firewood, wasn't just coincidence.

Maybe you weren't the only one who'd started wanting things you had no right to want.

The shift was subtle at first.

Joel still didn't talk much, still kept his cards close to his chest, but there was a new awareness in the way he looked at you. Like he was seeing you for the first time, taking inventory of the person you'd become over the weeks of walking together. When you caught him watching you patch up a tear in Ellie's jacket, his eyes would linger for just a heartbeat too long before he looked away. When you'd sit by the fire at night, unable to sleep despite your exhaustion, he'd join you without being asked. Not talking, not touching, just sitting close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body and hear the steady rhythm of his breathing.

Those moments were dangerous territory.

They made you think about things you had no business thinking about. Like what it would feel like to lean into his shoulder, to let yourself take comfort in his presence instead of just existing beside it. Like what it would mean to belong to someone again, to have someone who'd sit up all night watching you breathe. You knew better than to read too much into it, knew that Joel Miller was a man who'd buried too many people to ever let himself care that deeply again. But your heart didn't listen to logic. Your heart had already decided that sitting in silence with Joel Miller was the closest thing to home you'd felt since the world ended.

And maybe that was enough.

Maybe it had to be.

Because you knew he couldn't love you. Not the way you'd started loving him, quiet and desperate and all-consuming. Not with the weight of his past on his shoulders and Ellie's future in his hands. But love didn't always look like grand gestures and happy endings. Sometimes love looked like staying when leaving would be easier. Sometimes it looked like taking the night watch so someone else could sleep. Sometimes it looked like holding someone's hand through a fever and pretending it didn't mean everything.

"We should reach Jackson in another week or so," Joel said one evening, his voice cutting through the crackle of the fire. You looked up from the book you weren't really reading, caught off guard by the sudden conversation. "Tommy's got a place there. Community. Walls. Real beds."

Real beds. Safety. The kind of stability you hadn't even dared to dream about. You should have been excited, should have felt relief at the prospect of four walls and a door that locked. Instead, you felt something cold settle in your stomach. Because Jackson meant the end of this. The end of walking behind Joel Miller, of sitting by fires and sharing silence, of pretending that maybe you mattered to him the way he'd started to matter to you.

"That's good," you said, and hoped your voice sounded steadier than you felt. "Ellie will like having other kids around."

Joel nodded, his eyes fixed on the flames. "Yeah. She will."

The conversation died there, but the weight of unspoken things hung between you like smoke. You wanted to ask what would happen to you once you reached Jackson. Whether he'd expected you to stay, to make a life there, or if this was where your paths would diverge. Whether these weeks on the road had meant anything to him or if you'd just been a temporary traveling companion, useful until you weren't anymore. But you didn't ask. Couldn't bring yourself to voice the questions that might shatter whatever fragile thing had grown between you.

That night, you couldn't sleep.

You'd gotten good at sleeping rough over the weeks, learned to find comfort in hard ground and thin blankets, but tonight your mind wouldn't quiet. You kept thinking about Jackson, about real beds and walls and the strange terror of not knowing where you'd fit in a world that wasn't just survival. You were still thinking when Joel sat down beside you, close enough that his knee brushed yours.

"Can't sleep either?" he asked, voice low in the darkness.

"Too much to think about, I guess."

He was quiet for a long moment, and you could feel him weighing his words. "Jackson's a good place," he said finally. "Good people. You'll... you'll do fine there."

There was something careful in the way he said it, like he was trying to convince himself as much as you. Like maybe he was having his own doubts about what came next. You turned to look at him, studying his profile in the firelight, and saw the same uncertainty you felt reflected in the set of his shoulders.

"Will you?" you asked. "Do fine there, I mean."

Joel's mouth quirked up in something that wasn't quite a smile. "Guess we'll find out."

His hand found yours in the darkness, fingers lacing together with the kind of easy familiarity that spoke of practice. Like maybe he'd been thinking about this too, about the ways your lives had started to intertwine without either of you planning it. Like maybe he'd been sitting up nights wondering what it would mean to let himself care about someone again. His thumb brushed across your knuckles, a gesture so gentle it made your chest ache.

"I don't regret it," he said suddenly. "Bringing you with us. In case you were wonderin'."

The admission hit you like a punch to the solar plexus, unexpected and devastating in its honesty. Because you had been wondering. Had been carrying the weight of that uncertainty for weeks, afraid that you were just one more burden in his already impossible life. But here was Joel Miller, gruff and guarded and absolutely terrible at feelings, telling you in his roundabout way that you mattered. That these weeks hadn't just been charity or convenience.

That maybe you weren't the only one who'd been falling.

"I don't regret it either," you whispered, and meant it more than you'd meant anything in your life.

The kiss starts like something accidental—a brush of breath, a heartbeat too long in the space between—but when his mouth touches yours, it’s with the kind of heat that doesn’t belong to mistakes. Joel Miller kisses like a man who doesn’t get second chances, who knows what it means to lose and refuses to do it again. His hand moves to your cheek, rough thumb dragging slow along your skin, anchoring you to the moment. You don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing until he pulls back just enough to look at you, just enough to whisper:

“You’re all I fuckin’ need.”

It’s not poetry. It’s not some grand romantic flourish. It’s Joel, voice low and frayed with something ragged and real, like saying it out loud costs him something. But he says it anyway, and you feel it everywhere—feel it in your chest, in the tremble of your hands, in the way your whole body leans into him like gravity’s been rewritten around his touch.

You kiss him again, this time without hesitation, and he groans into your mouth—deep, low, like he’s been holding that sound back for weeks. His arm wraps around your back, pulling you closer until your chest is flush with his, the layers of clothing between you suddenly intolerable. Your fingers fist in the front of his jacket, needing something to hold onto, something real, something warm.

He breaks the kiss to press his forehead against yours, breathing hard. “Goddamn it,” he mutters, voice wrecked, like he’s angry at himself for feeling this much. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

You do. Because you feel the same—like the world narrowed down to the space between your mouths, like the long road behind you finally led to something worth surviving for. Your hand slides up to the back of his neck, your thumb brushing the soft hair just above his collar, and he shudders like it undoes him.

“We’re still leaving in the morning,” he says, but the words are an apology more than a plan. Like he wants to offer you something more than roads and danger and the weight of what he’s already lost, but doesn’t know how.

“I know,” you whisper. “I don’t fucking care.”

He looks at you like that breaks him a little more. Like he’s been waiting for someone to say it—really say it—for twenty years. His mouth crashes into yours again, messier this time, all need and heat and the sharp edge of desperation. You taste him deeper now, feel the scrape of his stubble, the way his fingers sink into your waist like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold tight.

Then he pulls you into his lap.

Your knees straddle his thighs, your body folding against his like you were always meant to fit there, and he wraps both arms around you, breathing you in like you’re the first clean air he’s had in years. One hand slides up under your shirt, callused fingertips tracing heat across your back. You gasp against his mouth, arching into the touch, and he bites your lower lip in response—gentle, testing.

“You sure?” he asks, but the way his hands are already tugging your shirt higher, the way his hips shift beneath you, say he’s just barely holding himself back.

You nod, breathless. “Please.”

That breaks the leash.

He lifts your shirt in one motion, eyes dark as he takes you in—every scar, every line of muscle and curve of softness—and something in him softens and sharpens at once. His hands are reverent and greedy all at once, sliding over your ribs, thumbs brushing under your breasts, every touch a promise. When his mouth finds your skin, it’s like a confession—wet, hot kisses pressed to your chest, your collarbone, your shoulder. You lean into him, fingers diving into his hair, anchoring yourself to the heat of his mouth.

You feel his breath hitch when your hips roll against his, and then he’s gripping them, holding you still with a growl. “Don’t do that unless you mean it,” he warns, but there’s no menace in it—just restraint. Barely. “I ain’t got the strength to stop if you keep grindin’ like that.”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

He curses low, like a prayer and a death sentence at once, then surges up to kiss you again, deeper, rougher. One hand tangles in your hair, angling your mouth just how he wants it, and the other slips between your bodies to fumble with your waistband. His fingers are clumsy with urgency, and when he gets you unzipped, he doesn’t wait—just slides his hand inside, pressing into heat and slickness that makes him groan into your throat.

“Fuck—feel that,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. “You want me so bad already, baby.”

You can’t speak. Can’t breathe. Just nod as his fingers slide deeper, thick and slow and unrelenting. He finds your clit with his thumb, circling it just enough to make your thighs shake around his hips. You bury your face in his neck, moaning into his skin, your breath stuttering as his hand moves faster, more sure.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do—barely, your eyes half-lidded with pleasure. His stare pins you in place, raw and wanting. “You’re gonna come on my fuckin’ hand before I even get inside you, you understand?”

You do. Goddamn it, you do. His fingers curl just right, and your body answers him before your mouth can. The tension coils tight in your belly, tighter, until it breaks like a snapped wire—sharp and sudden and overwhelming. You come with a gasp, hips jerking in his lap, and he watches you the whole time, his jaw tight, his eyes hungry.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs. “Fuckin’ beautiful.”

You barely register him shifting beneath you, undoing his belt with one hand, the other still stroking your thigh. You hear the hiss of denim, the thick sound of his breath as he frees himself, and then—

He lines up against you, the head of his cock slick where he rubs it along your folds. “You ready?” he asks again, because even now, he needs to be sure.

“I need you, Joel. Please.”

He thrusts up into you in one slow, devastating motion, filling you inch by inch until you’re gasping against his mouth, nails digging into his shoulders. “Shit,” he groans, eyes fluttering shut as he bottoms out. “You feel—fuck—you feel perfect.”

You can’t think. Can’t do anything but hold onto him as he starts to move, slow at first, savoring the tight fit, the drag, the way your breath catches every time he sinks in deep. You ride him like you were made for it, bodies moving in sync, every thrust stoking the fire higher. His mouth finds your shoulder, your throat, your jaw—biting, sucking, leaving marks because he wants the world to see what you are to him now.

He fucks you like he’s carving a claim. Like survival means nothing if it doesn’t include this—include you.

And when you come again, with his name on your lips, nails clawing at his back, he lets go too—grunting through his teeth, fucking up into you one last time as he spills inside with a growl.

After, you collapse against him, both of you shaking, clinging to each other like you’ve been dropped from a great height and landed in the only arms that could catch you. His hands cradle your back, your neck, his breath hot against your temple.

“You’re all I need,” he says again, voice hoarse and trembling. “Ain’t lettin’ you go.”

And this time, you believe him.

#𐔌 . fwaist ! ౨ৎ #✦ ⌇ elowyn writes !#★┊anon ask .ᐟ #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #all i need - radiohead #all i need #radiohead

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likea-silhouette · 2 days ago

Text

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

content: fluff, sexual tension, and mentions of past sex life.

word count: 3.4k

summary: Harry was once the boy you loved and wanted to spend your life with. The funny thing is that addiction is something that is never predicted. What happens when you run into your ex-boyfriend years after your breakup that was due to his vices? Based on the song Complex by Katie Gregson-MacLeod

tagged: @kiwitsayedsugar @imaginexxharry @wheredidmyeyesgo @georgiarose94 @secretisme4 @drewrry @fratzayn @spinninc

Series Masterlist

“Dinner?” Harry questioned quietly as his thumb subconsciously ran along your cheek. His eyes reflected the light from the strings, making it appear like his pupils were physically glowing. “I’d really like that”, you say with bright, attentive eyes

The moment felt raw and full of several emotions-love, nervousness, confusion, sadness, happiness. So caught up in the moment, neither you nor Harry had even realized his palm that was still resting on the side of your face. However, a series of giggles made you both keenly aware of what both of you looked like to the public eye. A series of coughs came from behind Harry’s form. At the sound, Harry removed his hand and turned to peer at the view that was once pressed against his back.

“You’ve got to be kidding me”, you mumbled, more so to yourself-Harry just happened to overhear.

Standing at the patio entrance was Nadia with a winced expression as she tried to soothe her betrothed, who had just guzzled his beverage down the wrong pipe of his throat. Nadia's face was slightly tensed as she rubbed her husband's back, moving her eyes back and forth from the direction of her lover, back to you and Harry-repeat. Your eyes narrowed as you looked at your best friend, suspicious of why she just so happened to be glancing into the back yard when it was only Harry and you outside.

And you have every right to have those suspicions; they were 100% correct. Both Nadia and her husband invited either of you on purpose, in the hopes that you both would be able to rekindle something-even if that meant just friendship.

Separately, you and Harry had confessed to Nadia and her husband a feeling of loneliness in both of your lives. As if something was missing, yet neither of you could put a finger directly on just how to quench this ever-growing thirst. Nadi got the idea first - what better way for the married couple to bring together ex-lovers than a party? Turns out, their plan had worked exactly as they had hoped. Harry tilted his head with a smile smile as he scratched the side of his arm in habit. You mirror the tilt of his head and dig your front tooth into your bottom lip. You attempted to contain your embarrassed enthusiasm, yet still a small smile broke out from underneath your lips. The feelings could be compared to being set up on a blind date….except that the blind date happened to be with your ex. Simultaneously, you and Harry turn your heads, making complete eye contact with each other. “They set this up, didn’t they?” Harry spoke with a questioning tone that oozed with humor.

You nodded, “Seems that way.” Your eyes moved towards Nadia once more - she gifted you a timid wave as she remained standing alongside her husband, who had finally regained his composure. _____

Shortly after catching your friends in the act, you and Harry confronted them. Either expressed how they “were just checking if anyone else was still left at the party”. You thought it was a clever and worthy excuse, but you weren’t that ignorant. Still, you didn’t push the issue further, finding it adorable in a way that the couple was trying to instill some magic back into whatever you and your ex had. As you and Harry followed behind Nadia and her husband as they made their way inside the home, you realized that you were in fact the last remaining two at the party. Your eyes glanced towards the wall that you knew held a clock. Your eyes widened as you looked at the time that sat shortly after midnight. As if on cue, a harsh yawn escaped your mouth, making Harry chuckle as he stood behind you. He watched your nose as it crinkled. He thought it was cute. “Guess we better let you guys be then. Thanks for the invite - this was great.” Harry gave a brief hug to Nadia’s husband. At the same time, you enveloped Nadia in a hug. You could feel the way your friend gave your body just the slightest squeeze just before she released you. “Text me when you get home, okay?” Nadia whispered in your ear with a gleam of mischief and curiosity in her eye. One that you knew was saying she wanted more than just a notification that you made it home safe. “I’ll definitely text you”, you smirked as Nadia reciprocated your facial expression.

Once each of the party throwers had been farwell-ed and waved goodnight, you walked in front of Harry until you were both outside of the front door. “Can I walk you to your car?”, Harry offered, making you quietly giggle like a fucking schoolgirl. “Yeah”, you said with your best nonchalant tone and most eased nod. Once to your car, Harry held the door open, allowing you to comfortably get seated in the drivers side and pull your seat belt across your chest. Harry watched all of your movements. The way your hands gripped the stearing wheel - the way your eyes blinked more than usual due to exhaustion, yet still looked even more beautiful than he remembered. You had him feeling properly fed; a feeling he hadn’t felt since-who even fucking knows anymore. He couldn’t let this feeling go away. He couldn’t let you slip away again if he could help it.

“Would it be weird if I asked for your number?” Harry asked with as much courage as he could summon. At his words, you felt a rush of excitement as warmth grew along the back of your neck. You shook your head as you fished your phone out of the cup holder. “Only weird if you don’t give me yours too.” You spoke with confidence and ease. Silently, you both typed into the others phone, ensuring that the most up to date number was now saved for both of you. “I’ll text you about dinner. Only if that’s still something you’re open to.” Harry nervously teetered from one foot to the other as he spoke. You thought it was cute. “Definitely still open. We could do next weekend if you aren’t too busy being…well, you.” Harry chuckled, “I’ll make it work regardless. Get home safe, yeah?” You nodded, “Goodnight Harry.” “Goodnight”, he wished you well as his hand pushed your car door shut. His eye watched your car until you were completely out of view. Now it was he, the street lights, and the dark night sky. ______________________

By the time you arrive home and slip out of your day clothes, in exchange for pajamas, your screen has already lit up with a text. You felt an air of embarrassment at the way your hands quickly grabbed for your device. The thrumming of your heart increased by the milliseconds as you waited in anticipation.

Please be him - you prayed to yourself with squinted eyes. The moment his five-letter name read across your screen, it felt as if God was actually real and had heard your pleading.

Waiting for you was a text. It contained a link to a restaurant - it had a name that you’d recognized, most likely from passing on the street a time or two. As your thumb pressed down gently and the screen loaded to the business’s home page, you recognized the building and its main sign that hung above its main entrance. Instantly, your face formed into a wincing expression.

This restaurant was both familiar and a stranger to you because you had indeed passed it a time or two, but scanning through the menu and a quick look at the dollar amounts of the appetizers alone quickly made you realize why you hadn’t made it a place you regulared.

Just as you were about to click through to your banking account app and figure out how the hell you’d be able to afford anything more than a cocktail at this place, another text popped up at the top of your screen.

“How’s this place for our next reunion? H x.”

Instantly, your finger tapped on the text, your eyes scanning his words more times than you’d care to admit, and suddenly, the amount of money, or lack thereof, in your bank account didn’t matter. Not when you were this smitten. With shaky hands and a grin that had you biting your lower lip in an attempt to suppress, you typed the most calm, cool, and collected batch of words your mind could muster.

“You read my mind”, you texted back with the addition of a kissing emoji A fucking kissing emoji? Jesus Christ, who was I. Quickly, Harry responded, “Pretty sure I still know every inch of you, so it makes sense that I can read your mind.” He wasn’t sure if it was the sleepiness in his head that made his judgment cloudy enough to send you those words, or if he was running on pure adrenaline. You couldn’t help but read his text with a sexual innuendo attached to it, just as Harry had wanted, but in your mind, you couldn’t be too sure that was his intention. Maybe the tone you portrayed was the one you really just wanted to be true. Maybe his text was harmless and merely just stating a fact.

Maybe it was, but maybe it wasn’t. Your lack of response made Harry sigh heavily in his chest. “Sorry, didn’t mean it like that.”, he was quick to send a lie-filled double text out of pure anxiety.

Your eyes dragged along his words, feeling his anxious energy peel off the screen. But that was the last thing you wanted him to feel.

Quickly, your thumbs tapped out a reply - the first one that came to your mind. Words that you would regret the instant you hit send.

“Which parts are we talking about?”

The moment Harry's eyes scanned your text, he felt a shock blaze from his chest down to the tops of his thighs. He had to set his phone down and breathe slowly-in, then out-as the most annoying of grins smothered his face like a fucking kid on christmas morning.

He couldn’t help but ask himself if this all really was real. Was he actually texting with his ex-girlfriend and having flirty conversations as if both of you hadn’t had a massively difficult breakup that left both of you silent for years? It felt almost too good to be true.

“I meant your brain, but we can talk about the other parts if that’s what you want”, Harry had to type and retype and retype that message four or five times before he was satisfied with it’s balance of innocence and suggestiveness. Anticipation coerced through his fingertips as he anxiously awaited your response with eyes glued to the screen of his phone. He could feel the blood beginning to rush between his legs as he imagined what you were typing, what you were thinking, what you were wearing. This feeling was so nostalgic. Harry recalled when he first met you and you both exchanged numbers. How these exact butterflies fluttered throughout his stomach just from talking to you about the most mundane of daily occurrences. These virtual conversations were often intertwined with day to day activities and late-night conversations when he was needy for you. This moment-right now-felt, in a way, like home. Harry's eyes continued to obsessively watch the screen of his phone. The three dots would pop up and then go away, only to repeat that sequence several more times as you typed and retyped and retyped again a message that was taking longer than Harry’s anxiety cared to wait for. On the other hand, he enjoyed that you were probably nervous and stunned at his words, which were said with boldness and confidence. The fact that you were taking ages to respond now replaced Harry’s anxiety with a light cockiness. However, when he saw what you typed, everything felt very, very worth the wait. Second by second. You crossed your heart and hoped to fucking god that Harry hadn’t seen how many times you had typed, then deleted, only to begin typing the text again, but truly, what do you say to your ex that is..well..talking to you like this. In a severely non-platonic manner. “I see your mouth is still really good at spouting nonsense. I remember what else it was really good at.”

The minute you hit that little upward arrow button, sending the text pinging straight to Harry’s phone, you immediately tossed your device a foot away from you on your bed as you hid your face in your hands. Your feet stomped quickly against the top of your mattress as you cooed and squealed into the throw pillow now set in your lap. You couldn’t believe you sent it. You really, truly, didn’t know who you were at this very moment, but in the best way possible. You felt like a version of you who was in her early 20s with hormones that raced through her body. Your mind begins to drift to the first time you saw Harry naked. It was a carved artwork, the way shadows traced the muscles that rippled all along his body. His top half was a canvas to various tracings of black ink, freckles, and a mole or two. You remembered your finger as it traced down the center of his stomach, underneath his belly button. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the way his stomach tensed up as your finger kept moving further and further down as it followed along the line of hair that led you down a path straight to his hardened cock that pressed against his lower pelvis. The spark that lit up inside you when you felt the thick liquid smothering his tip - one could only describe it as something feral. When both of you were intimate, sometimes Harry would delicately lie your body down on a bed and give slow and easy kisses that felt so deeply natural, as if this is exactly what both of you were supposed to be doing with your lives. On other occasions, when the sexual tension was high and the cravings had been taunting you for hours-sometimes even days- Harry would aggressively and consentually give you a playful shove that had your body plummeting down on the couch with his body on top of yours. You hadn’t realized until now the slightest taste of metal as you bit your lip and recalled the very first time you felt the warmth of him inside of you. It was shocking and exciting and everything you had hoped being so intimately pressed against him would be. Fuck, you missed him-in more ways than one. You missed how perfectly his body seemed to mold against yours. The way his hands seemed to know your body better than you did. His raspy voice as it sang praises in your ear of how good you felt, alongside various groans and whimpers. However, your dip into the past was interrupted as you heard the vibrating of your phone that still sat on your bed about a foot or so away. The phone continued to vibrate, as if it weren’t just a simple text message…but a phone call. A surge of uncertainty wrapped around you like thick vines as you stared at the upside down phone screen. Your eyes were barely open, fearing you’d see his five-letter name flashing across the screen. Thankfully, the vibrating ceased- but not for very long.

The invisible pattern of the vibrations started once again. This time, the curiosity ached too hard in your body. You were quick to reach for your phone and turn it right side up and stare it dead in the face. There-you saw it, just as you pictured. Those five bloody letters that spelled out the name of the person who had taken up a disastrous amount of your time today, yet you didn’t feel bad about that at all. The vibration was stinging your ears as it moved in your palm, creating an overstimulating feeling as your mind also seemed to rapidly run through reasons of why he could be calling and if you should even pick up. Especially after the kind of text you had just sent. Finally, the vibration became too much as it combined with your thoughts, until you were impulsively tapping your thumb on the green button and moving the device up to your ear. “Hello?”

Your whisper was so soft, Harry wasn’t entirely sure if he actually heard your voice or if his mind made it up. “You there? I can barely hear you”, Harry said with a questioning tone. His crackly, tired voice was music to your ears. “Yeah-yeah, I’m here Harry. What's up?” He tutted at your innocence, “You’re really going to ask me what's up after sending a text like that?” Your body ached at his bold statement. Throughout your time of knowing Harry, you had developed a love-hate relationship with just how honest and bold he could be when around people he was the most comfortable with. “Helloooo?” Harry asked with a drawn-out vowel at the end. All he could hear on his end of the phone was the sound of your heavy breathing. “I’m here I just-I..don’t know what to say.” “I guess we could start with what you were implying.” You felt a heat rise in your chest due to mortification, “C’mon H-” “No-”, he interrupted, “you started this, so now you have to own up to it.” His voice was filled to the brim with amusement as he snickered whilst picturing you on the other end, most likely doing some sort of nervous quirk with your hands as you tried to find the right words or something along those lines. He loved making you a stuttering mess.

“Can’t handle it?” Harry playfully taunted, making you shake your head and airily roll your eyes. “I think you know I can handle it just fine”, you answered quickly in defense, making Harry chuckle with a slight darkness to his tone as he read between the lines of what your words actually meant. Imagery swirled around in Harrys head- your hair in his hands, your mouth sloppily working him up and down with a trail of drool connecting your mouth to this cock, him tasting every inch of your pussy as if he was starved. But he also knew he didn’t want this-whatever was happening between the two of you-to go like this. As much as he wanted each and every last bit of you, Harry also wanted you to know how hungry he was for the ordinary parts too. Like waking up next to you every morning or wrapping his arms around your waist in greeting when you get home from work. He needed you to understand how he was famished for the sexual aspect of your past relationship, but even more so, just to be near you and love you again-and to do it right this time.

“How about we see how dinner goes and maybe we can return to this conversation, yeah?” Your voice broke through the silence, making Harry unbury himself from his thoughts. “I’d like that a lot.” Your hands fidgeted as you felt what could only be best described as someone being asked out by their biggest crush of all time. It was a nostalgic feeling and one that was so deeply missed. No one had made you feel this way since Harry, and at this point, you weren’t sure anyone else could even come close. “Get some sleep, alright?” Harry’s voice was mildly rasped, most likely from exhaustion and having to talk to copious amounts of people today. “You too. Night Harry” Harry reiterated a night time farewell before ending the phone call and allowing a sigh to fall from his lips. He didn’t know how or what to feel. All he could do was lie still on the bed with each of his arms by his side and his head tilted back on a pillow. Motionless, his eyes stared off into the abyss of the white ceiling as his head relived the memory of everything that happened today. Though you were both separated by several miles and words still left unspoken, you felt connected to Harry as if he were right next to you. If you closed your eyes, you could almost physically feel his fingertips that slid between yours as to hold your hand. This feeling was an invisible string that was once severed with a sharp blade, yet had somehow been tied back together in a knot that felt sturdy-maybe even sturdier than before.

Eventually, your eyes drifted closed and your mind became encapsulated with him and sleep. To be continued

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #one direction #harry styles fanfiction #fine line #harrys house #hslot #complex #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #one direction fanfic #one direction fanfiction

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lucy-literates · 11 hours ago

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I would love a smut fic about Arthur leclerc, where y/n goes to a yacht party and where all the yachts are gathered, on Charles Leclerc's yacht there is a friend of y/n's, they talk a little and there is also Arthur who flirts with y/n. After the yachts are far on water the both parties start to mix and y/n and Arthur end up in a room !!!

I love all your fics and I would be very grateful to read one about that !!!! Please ❤️❤️

You can make them be cocky at eachother like a flirting game “I am interested in you/im not”

A/N: Ooooo ok, loving the back and forth “Will they won’t they” type vibes. Thank you for your support! Hopefully this is written how you imagined, enjoy! My inbox is open :)

Yacht a Day

(Like what a day, but yacht. I’m funny sometimes, I promise)

You and your best friend decided to stay in Monaco for a little vacation. It was a wild 2 weeks. As soon as you landed, your taxi was hijacked by some asshole in red, causing you to have to walk to your hotel. You were trying to drag your suit cases up the steps when you bumped into someone.

Someone who was solid enough to knock you to the floor.

“Ow—excuse you,” you snapped, rubbing your hip as you looked up.

The man blinked down at you. “Maybe try watching where you’re going.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Maybe try not being built like a Formula One car.”

He smirked — that kind of smirk that practically had a passport from Monaco itself. “That’s a compliment, non?”

It should’ve ended there. It didn’t.

Because that man — smug, unfairly hot, and annoyingly familiar — turned out to be Arthur Leclerc, the same Arthur who somehow kept crossing your path over the next few days. At cafés. On the beach. At that overpriced juice bar you’d sworn you’d never go back to.

By the time you and your friend received an invite to a private yacht party hosted by Charles Leclerc himself, you already had a gut feeling Arthur would be there.

And you weren’t wrong.

The sun had started to dip low on the Monaco coastline, the sky a hazy gold when you stepped onto Charles’ yacht. Laughter and soft music floated across the water from other boats, drinks were being passed out like candy, and everyone looked perfectly polished and half-drunk.

You were standing at the rail talking to an old uni friend you’d bumped into on board when you felt it — that gaze. That Leclerc stare.

You didn’t need to turn around.

“You following me, or is this just fate again?” Arthur’s voice purred in your ear.

You sipped your cocktail calmly before looking over your shoulder. “What can I say? Monaco’s small.”

He leaned against the railing next to you, all lazy confidence and sea breeze. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show off the golden tan of his chest, and those swim trunks should’ve been illegal.

“I didn’t catch your name,” he said.

You gave him your first name only.

He nodded like he’d just won a prize. “I’m Arthur. But I’m sure you’ve Googled me by now.”

You laughed. “You think very highly of yourself.”

“I just know what I bring to the table,” he said smoothly. “Want me to show you?”

You turned to face him fully, smirking. “Is that how you flirt? All ego, no substance?”

He tilted his head. “Depends. Is it working?”

You pretended to think. “Not yet.”

It should’ve stayed light. Casual. But after a couple more drinks, more boats began linking up with Charles’. The water party expanded. People started jumping from yacht to yacht — laughing, dancing, making poor decisions.

Arthur found you again on the lower deck, away from the crowd. “Still pretending not to be interested?” he asked, stepping into your space.

You stared up at him, playful defiance simmering beneath your skin. “Still pretending to have a personality?”

His grin was wolfish. “I like you.”

“I’m not here to be liked.”

“Then why are you still standing here?”

Touché.

You didn’t remember how you got into the bedroom. One second you were teasing each other at the edge of the party, and the next, you were stumbling into one of the yacht’s suites, lips locked, fingers tugging at clothing like you were both dying of heat.

Arthur backed you toward the bed, his mouth relentless, his hands impossibly sure.

“So much for not being interested,” he murmured against your throat, nipping at the skin there.

“Shut up,” you gasped, nails raking down his back. “You talk too much.”

His laugh was dark, low. “You’ll be the one begging in a minute.”

You arched a brow, breathless. “Confident.”

He pushed you back onto the bed with a smug look. “Accurate.”

Clothes fell away. Hands roamed. His body fit against yours too well, all heat and tension and pressure in all the right places. He took his time — not out of patience, but possession.

Arthur made it very clear he knew exactly what he was doing.

And he wanted to ruin you for anyone else.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispered as his fingers slid over your thigh. “I knew it the second I saw you—flat on your ass with fire in your eyes.”

You didn’t even have a clever retort. Not when his mouth replaced his hand, not when he devoured you like he had something to prove.

You grabbed at his hair, whining, moaning his name as he pulled the most sinful sounds from your body, over and over, until the world blurred.

When he finally pushed into you, it was slow, steady — but the way he watched you as he did it? Eyes dark, lips parted, hands tight on your hips like you were something sacred?

That nearly broke you.

“You feel unreal,” he rasped. “God, look at you.”

Your head tipped back as he started to move — teasing at first, hips rolling, drawing it out until your toes curled and your nails dug into his shoulders.

“I can’t—fuck, Arthur—”

He pressed his forehead to yours, smile softening just enough to melt you. “Yes, you can.”

He kissed you again as your body locked around his, the rhythm turning desperate, sweaty, wild — until you shattered beneath him with a cry, dragging him with you into the dark.

Afterward, tangled in sheets, he traced a finger over your bare shoulder. “Still not interested?”

You turned your head, grinning. “Still not your type.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I think red flags are my type, actually.”

You shoved his chest, laughing. “Asshole.”

He caught your hand, kissed it, and grinned. “Yours.”

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc x y/n #arthur leclerc fluff #arthur leclerc smut #arthur leclerc x reader smut #arthur leclerc x reader fluff

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whitenoisewhatanawfulsound · 1 day ago

Text

My Fake Plastic Love

Spencer Reid x Reader

Spencer hates his twenties, and hates parties even more. Bumping into you on accident though, makes him wonder if maybe the whole thing was worth it.

855 words

cw: SO much yearning, a little sad, reader is implied as fem? There's a song in the fic that uses she/her pronouns but reader's gender is never outright mentioned, Reader has hair, Spencer is pathetic

an: Yes the sunshine comments are in reference to Spencer's fear of the dark

Spencer really had to stop falling victim to pure pressure. This was, what, the third party he’d been “strongly encouraged” to attend? His twenties were going to be the death of him. He was sick of people telling him how he should be spending the so-called best days of his life. He was doing fine by his own standards, thanks.

He wished he hadn’t come. He wished it was socially acceptable to bring books to parties. He was wishing a lot of different things right now. He was surrounded by people he didn’t know, and didn’t want to know. Some divine intervention would be lovely at the moment. Or a phone call interrupting him.

Leaving fifteen minutes in would be rude. Though, the person he’d planned on coming with hadn’t shown up at all; was leaving early better or worse than that? No one would notice, surely? When did he start caring whether or not people noticed him?

The music is loud and the whole room is hot and stuffy. Conversations slur together into an ocean Spencer thinks he might drown in. He tries to swim through the crowd of people but waves crash into him and he chokes on the water.

The music is louder, somehow. His ears ring.

She lives with a broken man A cracked polystyrene man Who just crumbles and burns

Where’s the door? God, this person’s house is so confusing.

He used to do surgery

Spencer feels like he might puke.

For girls in the eighties But gravity always wins

Does the door even exist?

And it wears him out It wears him out It wears him out It wears

Someone practically rams into him, solid and all too real.

“Sorry-”

“Spencer?”

She looks like the real thing

“Oh,” He breathes. Oh, oh, oh. Spencer was going to drown.

She tastes like the real thing

“I didn’t know you were here,”

My fake plastic love

“I didn’t exactly want to be here” He does now though. God, he does. Let him rot here. Let him live in every creaking floorboard for as long as you stay. Let him be the weeds that grow through cracks in the concrete if it means he’ll be able to see you again.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you in years, Spence.”

But I can't help the feeling I could blow through the ceiling If I just turn and run

“I didn’t mean to lose touch.”

And it wears me out It wears me out It wears me out It wears me out

“No, I get it. Life gets in the way, right?”

“Right.”

And if I could be who you wanted

“I missed you.”

Spencer doesn’t think he deserves to be missed.

“Would it be horrible if I said it back?”

If I could be who you wanted

“No. I don’t think anything you tell me could ever be horrible.”

Spencer desperately wants to change the subject.

“Are you here with someone?”

“No, you? This doesn’t seem like your crowd.” You’re not wrong.

“Me neither. It’s not, but it doesn’t exactly seem like yours either.”

“Then why are we standing here?”

All the time

Spencer’s head spins. He doesn’t know why. Has he ever? Probably not.

All the time…

It’s stupid how it happens, really. Stupid because you haven’t seen each other in years. Stupid because Spencer does still love you and it’ll only get worse after this. But he kisses you anyway.

It’s languid and soft, warm and hurtful. Spencer Reid kisses like a man starved, but for you he’d never eat again. Gentle hands hold your jaw and fingertips brush away hair, his heart physically aches with it all. It’s not meant to be desperate, not cruel. It holds secrets and unsaid words and promises that he wished he could’ve kept.

One day, Spencer Reid was going to die, and you would be charged for third degree murder. He’d love you anyway, even if it meant death. At least then he’d know some form of peace, if the word even existed in his vocabulary anymore.

He pulls back and he’s breathless.

“I’m sorry,” Is immediate.

“No, don’t be-”

Spencer wondered how the divine intervention was coming along.

“I didn’t mean to just, you know-”

He’s shut up by sunshine against his lips. This, he thinks, this is what it’s supposed to feel like. Wonderful and oh so horrible. Illuminating and horrifying. He’d stay here forever, if he could. Live in the cracks of your bones.

It’s over all too soon.

“I have to go.” No, please stay.

“Call me?” He asks.

“I tried before, it never worked.”

“I changed my number, here-”

He hastily pulls a pen from his pocket and reaches for your hand. He scribbles numbers onto the back of your hand.

He watches you smile and leave. His face feels hot and the sound around him is dull. He’d like to say it was fate, but he doesn’t exactly believe in it. He wishes he could’ve said something meaningful, something that you keep hidden under your pillow while you sleep. He’ll think of something on the walk home, maybe.

#border by sweetmelodygraphics #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds hurt/comfort #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader #bau x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic

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one-sunny · 2 days ago

Text

Cabin by the Lake | The Departure

Portgas D Ace x F!Reader, Modern AU series

09- When Luffy’s birthday turns into a group get away to a small cabin by a lake, you cannot deny his own brothers an invitation. Surely the week long get away would leave a lasting impression with his eldest sibling.

Saturday: The Departure

The morning came early following such a restless night.

You were absolutely drained, physically and emotionally. As you carried through the task of packing up your suit case, you felt eyes on you, tracking your every slow move.

Nami and Robin weren’t oblivious to your mood. To your sudden change in demeanor. It was something you undoubtedly would have to explain… eventually. You weren’t quite ready to dive into all of the details.

You weren’t even sure about how you felt to begin with. It was a swirl of negative emotions. Hurt, from being strung along in such a way. Upset, for failing to push him away as you barely tried to do. Stupid, for thinking that you know the man better than that, even though it has only been nine days. Dumb and a little bit delusional for moving so fast.

There was no way to pinpoint just one.

Ignoring the looks, you move out of the room to collect your hygiene items from the bathroom. From there, you catch you reflection in the mirror, the many nights of terrible sleep seemingly catching up to you in the form of heavy eye bags.

Nami and Robin are gone when you return to the room and you almost feel bad for the relief that floods through you. Tossing your items in you your suitcase, you attempt to focus on the menial task of packing. Of fitting all your items into the bag, plus some. As you gather up your things, your eyes catch the green scale pattern and your heart effectively sinks.

That hat. That’s stupid, stupid hat.

You had half a mind to throw it away but you can’t bring yourself to do such a thing. To throw out the memory of that day. Instead, you angrily throw it atop your clothes and slam the thing shut. As you’re zipping up the bag, a knock rings into the air and your muscles tense.

“Hi.” Ace breathes, looking like a deer caught in headlights despite being the one to initiate the conversation. You scramble to stand on your feet, shifting on your weight at his intense focus. The silence drags and your mind runs a mile a second. “We, uh, we’re about to head out.”

“Okay, bye.” You rock on your heels for a moment, unsure of what to even do with yourself and entirely uncomfortable with the situation. Ace has been such a comfort. Calming, yet entirely exciting. Now… your mind is screaming at you to get out. You try to step around him to leave the room but Ace scrambles to block your path.

“I just-“ He stops talking just as abruptly as he started. “Doll, I-“

“Don’t.” The emotions in your voice betray you at the sound of that name. Doll. It made you want to scream. “Don’t do that.” You shake your head, not allowing yourself to look at him and catch the distressed look on his face. “Just-“ A sharp breath through your teeth. “Please.”

And then you’re stepping around him.

You stomp downstairs, gathering up your best smile, and greeting the others. Once you feel Ace’s presence in the room, Luffy hops up from his seat. “Thank you guys for doing all of this. I like having you guys together like this, where one person doesn’t have to leave early for work or something stupid.” You crack a smile. “So, happy birthday me!”

“Your birthday was yesterday.” Sabo laughs.

“Don’t ruin this!” He groans. “Now everyone, come here. My final birthday wish is a group hug.” Some groans ring out through the room, from Zoro in particular, but everyone complies. Arms thrown around each other in a tight squeeze.

And a warm hand falls on your back. Familiar. Almost searingly so. He wasn’t bold enough to join the group hug so close, but Ace’s hand settles on your lower back anyways. Your breath catches.

Then everyone breaks and Luffy is yelling out his goodbyes as he heads out the door with his brothers. Silence fills the room once the door shut. Eerily quiet. You weren’t exactly a silent group, but the three made a lot of noise. That realization settles into the room.

Nami laughs first.

The rest of you follow.

The air is easy.

You don’t feel quite as tense as the guys finish packing up- Sanji and Franky electing to pack Nami’s car for the three of you. More goodbyes shouted out and Nami is locking the door behind her, dropping the key into the metal box hanging just beside the door.

Her hands place on her hips and she lets out a sigh, “I’m actually going to miss this place.”

“Hey, maybe we could stay here instead of heading back home.” You grin at her. “I’m sure you won’t miss the mall too much.”

“Yeah, as if.” She scoffs, strutting off towards the car.

You elect to sit in the back seat this time, settling comfortably and allowing your gaze to fall towards the window. The trees begin to pass by in a blur, a trip reduced to muddied colors when you expected it all to be bright and sunny. And then to top it off, a raindrop hits the window directly in your line of sight. More soon follow as Nami grumbles about driving in the rain.

The rain is a steady beat in your mind, soothing down your thoughts and allowing a distraction. Your eyes fall to a fat raindrop near the top of the window, slowly inching down, with another close by its side. You track their race until they disappear into the seal to slide down the side of the car. Then, you do the whole thing over with a new set of raindrops. And again.

It’s mindless. Distracting. Exactly the type of thing that you needed. Your eyes droop and you’re falling asleep against that very same window before you even realize it.

As sleep takes over, you don’t notice the concerned look Nami is throwing into the rear view mirror. “I’m worried about her.” Nami murmurs to Robin.

She hums in thought, “Don’t be. She will be okay, it’s not like you can die of a broken heart.” Robin pauses, head tipping. “Well, I suppose the stress and psychological affects can negatively impact her health, but it shouldn’t kill her.”

“Not helpful.” Nami sighs, shaking her head at the woman. “Do you really think that’s what this is? A broken heart?”

“I’m not sure. The only one that could answer that is her.” Robin takes a peak back at you, your face finally peaceful and body fully slumped into the door.

Nami nods in agreement, “We should talk to her, ya know, when we get home.” Robin agrees and silence falls over the car, only a low hum of what ever was playing on the radio. Neither woman attempted conversation. This week was draining with all the social interaction no matter how much they adored their friends.

You don’t wake again until a car door slams to shake the vehicle. Jolting up, you notice Robin slipping outside too. Blinking bleary eyes, you try to catch up to the present, finding yourself in the parking lot of Nami’s apartment complex.

Tired hands fumble with the door, nearly stumbling over in your haste to follow the pair over to the trunk. “ ‘S you just weren’t gonna wake me up?” You pout.

Nami offers a bright laugh, “We would have.”

“Yeah right.” You grumble with arms crossing over your chest. With a soured expression, you move to grab your bags, stepping off to the side to wait for Nami to close up her car. Waking so abruptly certainly had worsened your mood, but your friends were well aware of the true source. They didn’t pester you thus far and that only meant that you were in for it now.

Your tired mind is on autopilot as you follow them into the building, to the elevator, and all the way to Nami’s apartment. She throws the door open and it seems that relief washes over her. To be home. To be in civilization.

“How about we order something to eat?” Nami suggests with a bright grin. “For delivery.” She sighs dreamily at the idea.

“Sounds good, but I do believe I will miss Sanji’s cooking.” Robin sparks a chorus of sighs at this.

The three of you scatter about the living room furniture to discuss what you all want to eat, only mildly annoyed by the fact that it wouldn’t be catered to you by the chef who loved you all dearly. With an order finally placed, Nami sets down her phone, and suddenly all eyes are on you. You attempt to evade the attention but they simply were not having any of it.

“So, can we talk about the elephant in the room?” Nami is glaring at you as she speaks.

“Elephant? Your place is certainly too small for one of those, Nami, and we really need to discuss your spending habits.” The deflection earns a roll of the eyes and a shake of the head in turn.

“Avoiding it will just make things harder on you.” Robin crosses her legs to settle further into her seat. You follow her movements but they are jerky and akin to a child throwing a tantrum.

“What happened?” Nami leans forward in her seat. You blow out a breath and throw your hands in a frustrated half shrug, indicating that you don’t even know for yourself. “So that whole time, you guys never even kissed?”

“No.” Your head falls back.

“I’m not gonna lie, I bet Ussop twenty berry that Ace kissed you when you guys snuck out to go for a drive.” Nami sighs, looking between the two of you. “Don’t remind him of that, please.”

“But you wanted to?” Robin prompts, ignoring the red head.

“That obvious?” You cringe at yourself. For the way you had been acting that entire vacation. For the way you spent so much time with him instead of the others. Wasted.

“Very much so.” She nods in confirmation, reaching over to pat your leg as you let out a long groan.

“There’s obviously more to it though. I can’t see you getting this upset with the guy just because he didn’t make a move.” Nami reasons, eyes watching you close. Then her lips part and her eyes widen. “Unless you tried to kiss him and he-“

You groan loudly to cut her off. She had already connected the dots, you didn’t need to hear it spoken aloud. This leads to much, much further prompting. “He, ugh, he almost kissed me during the fireworks. And last second he- he just…” You dramatically jerk your head to look away from them. Then your eyes are back on them and you throw your hands up for emphasis.

“He turned his head?”

“He turned his head.” You fall back against the seat. “And it just, ugh!” Palms press to your face to yell into your hands. “I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted it so bad and it’s so embarrassing now because he just-“ Your hands throw up into the air for what seems like millionth time as you apparently forget how to express your emotions.

“I just don’t understand. He just seems like he’s so into you.” Nami ponders, sharing a look with Robin. As if the dots would be connected in their silent conversation.

“Yeah that’s what I thought too.” You reply bitterly, arms crossing over your chest. “Now i’m in a worse mood, can we talk about literally anything other than Ace?” The name is grit through your teeth. With hurt and a whole lot of swirling emotions. The pair reluctantly agree.

As the night carries on, you’re not sure if anything can pull you from the slump…

…And Ace doesn’t seem to be fairing much better.

He has been in a sour mood since last night. Since pulling his stupid, idiotic move. Ace barely got any sleep but he was lucky enough to knock out in the car ride back to Luffy’s place.

But the brothers had unfortunately decided to spend the night at the youngest’s apartment following the longest week of Ace’s life. So he was stuck. Watching some horrible comedy movie and eating even worse wings. Perhaps it was all just because he was in such a terrible mood.

Sabo and Luffy’s laughs ring through the air at a particularly scene and Ace finds himself scoffing. So with a huff, Sabo presses pause and all of the attention falls on him. “Why are you in such a bad mood?”

Ace says nothing, plucking a chip from the bag and taking a sudden interest in the shape.

“Is it because of Y/N?” Luffy leans in close and Ace grits his teeth. “I’ve been meaning to ask,” His brother watches his every move. “Why didn’t you kiss her?”

His head whips around to glare at Luffy, mouth dropped open. “What?”

But his little brother presses on. “I thought you were gonna during the fireworks but you chickened out.

“I did not chicken out!” Ace booms defensively.

“Then why not?” Sabo prompts.

“Because-“

“Because you were afraid?” Sabo pushes.

“No, because-“

“Because you’re a big ole baby?” Luffy snickers.

Anger flares in Ace’s stomach. “No! Because-“ Ace gapes for a moment as his brothers stare him down, egging each other on in effort to get the truth. “Because of you Luffy!” He finally explodes to silence them.

They both fall silent for a long moment…

Until Luffy laughs.

“Oh ho, no way. You’re not blaming me for this.” Luffy shakes his head defiantly as Sabo laughs aloud. “I didn’t stop you from finally making a move.”

Ace groans, head thrown back against the couch as he slumps further down. “Not exactly,” He mutters. “But I overhead your conversation with her before the fireworks.”

“And?”

“And she said she would do anything for you. That you guys are best friends and you mean so much to each other.” Ace rubs the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I’d never forgive myself for messing something like that up for you. I know how it feels to lose a best friend and, man, I can’t do that to you.”

Luffy pauses in thought for a moment, before decisively declaring, “That’s stupid.”

“What?” Ace sputters.

His brother laughs as he sits ups. “Ace, I chose you. I didn’t have to share that Sake with you.” He shakes his head. “And I chose her too, I didn’t have to drag her along with me, but I did.” A bright grin splits his face. “I love both of you. There’s nothing either of you can do to make me stop loving the other. You’re my brother and she’s one of my best friends.”

“Lu, you don’t know that-“

“Who do you think I am?” Luffy crosses his arms incredulously. “When have I ever turned my back on a friend?” The two state each other down for a long moment, but Ace ultimately knew that his brother was right. He would ride and die for his friends. He had little care if one friend disliked another or if two were fighting. Monkey D. Luffy loved anyone deemed his friend and it would take a nuclear bomb to even make him consider changing that.

“So,” Ace pauses. “You wouldn’t care?”

“I want to see you both happy, idiot.” He rolls his eyes. “And I may be dumb, but i’m not stupid. We all could see how happy you two were together.”

“Besides,” Sabo grins. “Wouldn’t you want to date someone who knows how to put up with our punk little brother?” He shoves Ace’s arm and the man grins.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” Ace runs a hand down his face, sighing slowly. “I have to go see her.”

“Dude, it’s two in the morning.”

“Maybe she’s awake.” Ace considers, but with the long glare from Sabo, he relents. “Fine. I’ll go in the morning- first thing.” Ace taps his fingers nervously. The anxious energy about him was more than obvious and a pit opens d up in his stomach. It has been driving him crazy. His thoughts were plagued by you and you alone.

Oh, what he would give to go back and just kiss you. To know what it feels like to pull you into his arms. To know what your lips tasted like- probably the strawberry chapstick you use. He felt like a love sick child in pondering such a thing.

But that was the very thing that stuck with him until his head hit the pillow.

Series Masterlist | Chapter 10

tag list: @flooofity @certain-tragedies @zzzzzoey @stuckinmymind22 @kanekisheart @lxpofthegods @weirdothatreads @dailybrekker @spyderst4r @nejilost @thekatisspooky @narnian-neverlander

#two idiots in love is my favorite #we’re approaching the end everybody #only one more chapter!!!!#looks like i need a new ace series idea #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x you #portgas ace x you #portgas d ace #one-fics

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