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scvrgrl · 1 month ago

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is this love? | monkey d. luffy x fem!reader

you had caught his attention from the moment he met you, and now he knew exactly why. these feelings were both enticing and petrifying, suddenly filled with guilt for being so unprofessional. although, monkey d. luffy has never been a man of tradition...

word count: 6.4k

tags: fem!reader, a lil angsty (brief mentions of insecurity), best friend!usopp and best friend!nami, shifting perspectives between reader and luffy (most of it in luffy’s pov), some suggestive content but no smut, hardly proofread oops, lots of fluff tho! inspired by ‘is this love?’ - bob marley & the wailers :)

the sun hung high in the sky, it's warm rays spreading across your skin, transforming it into a glistening bronze. it was a leisurely time on the thousand sunny, the chaos of battle behind the crew and a ways away in the new world. you finally had time to yourself, taking advantage of the tranquility that lingered in the air. all morning, you participated in self-care activities — from enjoying a long, steamy bath without disruptions from your male crew mates, to dedicating quiet time on the deck to finish the rest of the book Robin lent you while you tanned in your admittedly-skimpy bikini. however, the peaceful silence become suddenly unsettling, your heart beginning to race as you became increasingly anxious. your senses had been already been deprived, the sun blazing just behind the thin layer of your eyelids, the wind’s pace picking up and swarming into your ears. where is everybody?

as if you had summoned them, the door to the sunny’s common area swung open, slamming so hard against the wooden panels you thought it created a dent. three figures emerged carrying vibrant weapons that sprayed a mysterious liquid. before you could react, the salty liquid covered your entire body, small icy squirts piercing through your skin accompanied by shouts and belly laughter.

“get her, Usopp!!” a high-pitched voice rang, giggling uncontrollably as they swarm around you. Luffy and Usopp surround you, boxing you in while you sat there stunned and helpless in your seat. it turns out that Usopp had manufactured a new weapon — although, it’s sole purpose was to terrorize you and the rest of the crew rather than the foes you’d soon face in the new world. Chopper had made himself comfortable while he rested on the shoulders of the surprisingly sculpted man before you, Usopp’s brown skin glistening with sweat and seawater. Luffy stood beside you, his pronounced abs directly in your eye sight as he gazed his pearly grin upon you. the proximity of his heaving, sweaty body beside you made your cheeks flush, hoping the rubber man wouldn’t notice as you stare a little too longingly into his eyes.

the fondness you’d grown for your captain slowly bloomed into an unrequited crush over time — constantly reminding yourself that he has bigger things to worry about than working his way into your heart. the weight of his effect on you was suffocating at times, almost like “an exhausting burden that sucked the life out of me,” you had described to Nami once. it was unnecessarily distracting the way you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him — sneaking glances at dinnertime as he ravaged his meal, always looking for him during a battle to ensure his safety over your own, fumbling over your words and avoiding eye contact whenever he would approach you. his blissful ignorance to your coy advances didn’t make it any better, he always assumed you were just teasing him.

“hey! what’s the big idea, huh?” you griped, shouting at the group for splashing the crisp pages of the book on your lap. Robin is gonna kill me. “i’m gonna wring your neck for soaking Robin’s book! you know she's gonna my head, dumbasses!”

“awww c’mon [y/n]! it’s just a little water! what are you, scared or something?” Luffy teased, quirking his thin eyebrows.

“just a little water, huh? we’ll see about that,” you retorted, shifting your shocked expression to something more sinister and calculated. The sudden change of your demeanor stunned the young men before you, each of them exchanging quick glances before turning tail to flee. before they could do so, you lean over, clutching onto Luffy’s strong arms to steal the water-gun from his hands. the swiftness in which you moved didn’t give him enough time to react, a surprising feat considering how agile he can be. the slick from the sweat-seawater mixture that coated his body caused your hands to slip, gliding across his firm biceps and feeling every vein and scar that marks his skin. you were able to find dry patch on his wrist, clasping it in your hands and ridding him of the weapon.

“hey what the-!” Luffy exclaimed, arms thrown up into the air, leaving him perfectly vulnerable to your attack. you aimed the gun straight at the area between his eyes, the espresso-colored irises following its barrel. ocean water squirts right where you want it, waves of obsidian becoming soaked and falling over his eyes. Luffy shakes his head to rid his eyes and hair of the salty water, directing its droplets to you when he hears your squeals of shock. a large splash hits your spine as Usopp and Chopper team up against you, firing their “ammo” whilst you were distracted. you turned your attention to them, your initial anger subsiding into an invigorating rush of adrenaline as you charged toward them, laughing and screaming.

“Luffy, grab her!” Usopp commands over his shoulder, shielding himself from your relentless attack. before you could comprehend the command, you’re suddenly swept off your feet, kicking your long silky legs as a pair of strong arm wraps around your waist and hoist you up.

“Luffy! put me down!” you pleaded, giggles being pushed out of you as Luffy presses firmly on your stomach. he shifts your entire weight into his arms, hooking one of his arms under your legs as he carries you bridal-style. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your bare chest against his, breathing in tandem as he carries you toward the commotion. your breasts graze against the large “x” scarred into his chest, the textured skin creating a sense of friction that causes your stomach to flutter. you hadn’t noticed, but you had been breathing dangerously close to the crook of his neck as you held yourself close to him. selfishly, you wished this silly quarrel never ended, just so you could hold onto Luffy’s touch for a little while longer…

…

Luffy and Usopp had been scheming all morning — huddled and hushed in the corner of the boy’s quarters as Usopp made the finishing touches to his new contraptions. their sudden bursts of rambunctious laughter had earned its fair share of glares from Zoro, who had been resting peacefully in his hammock. they had been compiling a list of unsuspecting victims to test their weapons on — automatically ruling Zoro out as he had seen the finished product. as Usopp went down the list, Luffy gave his opinion on how he think each person would react, giving amused “oooo”’s and “ahhh”’s with each name. when Usopp made his way to your name, Luffy rolled over on his back, holding his stomach as a sweet melody of belly laughter erupted from his lips.

“oh man, she’s gonna be so mad!” he exclaimed, riding through his fit of giggles.

“she's gonna kill you two, you know that right?” Zoro grumbled, peeking at the pair through his dark eyelashes. his arms crossed behind his head, hands cupped in the valley of green tufts to support his neck while he rested.

“that’s why we have to do it! [y/n] has yet to experience a taste of our pranks. c'mon Usopp, back me up here!”

Luffy’s gaze fell upon his best friend, who had still been tinkering with the gun’s trigger mechanism. Usopp’s tongue rested between his lips in concentration, briefly returning it back to it’s place as he looked over to Zoro, “he’s right, Zoro. everyone on the crew needs to experience it. it’s like a rite of passage.”

“whatever. i’m not savin’ anyone’s ass if she bugs out,” Zoro conceded, shutting his eyes for the last time as he finally drifts off to sleep.

so that’s exactly what they did — stealthily monitoring your every move throughout the morning, lurking within dark corners of the ship to catch you in a vulnerable position. and, unbeknownst to yourself, you set the perfect trap when you decided to bask in the midday sun with your funny little book.

now, Luffy carried you in his firm grasp — cradling you close as he dodged the fire from Usopp and Chopper’s offense. the seawater sprayed upon your exposed body caused you to slip from his grasp, Luffy’s fingers sliding from the slick pooling between the creases in your thighs and waist. with every passing moment, his grasp on you became looser and looser. eventually, you were able to break free — using your freedom to take control and tackle Luffy, fighting him for his weapon.

the two of you tussled on the warm patch of grass that coated the deck, arms and legs beginning to itch from the constant scratching. Luffy had fought many dangerous foes before, but they were no match for your strength and determination. he felt himself losing, your thighs pinning his waist to the ground as you firmly parked yourself on his lap. you used one of your free hands to pin his wrists against the pillowy grass beneath the two of you, the other hand spinning the toy gun with incredible ease.

you rested the gun between the small space where his dark eyebrows met, a sly smirk dancing across your lips, “gotcha.”

the air surrounding the two of you abruptly became thick, Luffy’s breath hitching in his throat despite the quickened rise and fall of his chest. why is she so heavy all of a sudden?

the height of the sun once again casted its beaming rays onto you — only this time, you had an unexpected audience. your soaked hair had draped over one of your exposed shoulders, the saltwater accentuating natural waves that ran through it. the suns rays allowed the seawater that coated your skin to glisten, droplets shimmering over the curve of your thighs and boobs and ass and—

wait.

Luffy found his heart racing against his thoughts, thumping violently in his chest. an unfamiliar warmth pooled at the base of his abdomen, sparking into a living flame that kindled and fluttered throughout his body. the warmth suddenly became overwhelming, his cheeks and neck flushing with every passing moment. the blissful fluttering in his belly transformed into an unbearable wave of nausea, anxiety rising in his chest. what the hell is going on???

without much thought, Luffy abruptly twists his hips from beneath you, causing you to lose your balance. you rolled onto the grass, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched Luffy briskly walk away, the muscles in his back working as he hurriedly swung his arms back and forth.

“hey, are you okay?” you called out, concern filling your chest.

even the sound of your voice put Luffy on edge, worried that you would catch on to his sudden change in demeanor. he flashed you a quick smile over his shoulder, his pearly teeth shining in the sun as they gritted against each other, “yeah, i’m fine! i think i just ate too fast is all. i’m gonna go lie down for a bit.”

the moment he returned to face the rest of the sunny, his smile fell. Luffy made his way down to the boys quarters, finding his bed and flopping face down into the mattress. he released a sigh that could’ve pushed all the air from his lungs had he tried just a little harder. the weight on his chest made him wish that he could do just that, hoping that such a simple remedy would cure his sudden ailment. becoming so overwhelmed by an unfamiliar feeling unsettled Luffy. he had always been so used to being sure of himself — never thinking twice about challenging emperors and soldiers with bounties that dulled his own in comparison.

the thoughts that raced through his mind caused him to toss and turn, ruffling the already-disturbed sheets from beneath him. falling asleep was always second nature to Luffy — the act of simply resting his head was enough to make him drift off to sleep. but now, he couldn’t stop thinking. images of your soaked body flashed behind his closed eyelids, the droplets of water traveling down your navel burned into his memory. Luffy released a loud groan of frustration, palms digging into his eyes as he pulled at the jet-black hair that draped across his forehead. dramatically, he kicked the sheets that became tangled between his legs, limbs flailing and begging to be set free.

Luffy’s thoughts nearly suffocated him, anxiety rising in his throat as he came to the realization that something was seriously wrong. he hopped out of bed, immediately swinging open the door and making his way over to Chopper’s medical ward. his loud footsteps echoed through the narrowed hallway, large feet slapping against the floor as he charged straight to the familiar door. Luffy lingered a while before knocking, fidgeting with his calloused hands as he worked up the courage to admit that he was sick. he was always used to taking care of his crew that he often felt bad for worrying them about his own problems.

“hey Chopper, you in there?” he asked gently, lips pressed against the crack of the door.

a small “hm?” was heard before the sound of hooves scuffling against the wooden floor made their way closer to Luffy. Chopper opened the door, curiously inspecting his captain as he stepped inside. Luffy jumped onto the examination table, the weight of his butt slamming against its surface caused some nearby vials to rattle.

“what’s wrong, Luffy? did you get into Sanji’s knives again? he told you not to do ‘three-knife style’ anymore!!” Chopper scolded, worried that his friend ticked off the ship’s cook. “if you make him mad again he’ll give the rest of your dinner away to Nami and Robin.”

in normal circumstances, Luffy would have entertained the idea, arguing that mastering such an artistic fighting style would only help in improve his chances of becoming king of the pirates. however, this day had been far from normal — nerves once again bubbling up to the surface, making his mouth go sour as his thin brows furrowed together. “i think something’s wrong with me Chopper. like, seriously wrong.”

Chopper’s blue nose twitched as the expression on his face shifted from amusement to concern. panicked, he shuffled his way over to Luffy, grabbing his blue medical bag to assess his condition. he noticed the way Luffy clutched at his stomach, fingers lingering over the small tissue that covered his belly button. Chopper tenderly pressed on his abdomen, testing whether or not his friend is suffering from something internal, “does this hurt?”

Luffy shook his head, sighing heavily as he laid down on his back. “it’s not a stomachache i don’t think, it’s something…different. i can’t put my finger on it.”

“well, what do you mean? maybe if you tell my your symptoms, i can make a treatment plan to help you feeling good as new!”

Luffy smiled at his generosity, mentally patting himself on the back for choosing such a caring doctor to manage his crew. he chewed on the soft tissue inside his mouth, contemplating different ways to list out his symptoms. when that didn’t work, he just let his mouth run, word vomit pouring out of him seemed to be the way to go.

“it all started when we were on the deck playing with the water guns. my heart started to race and my cheeks got super hot, like my face was on fire! my palms got super sweaty too — like way more than usual so that made me even more nervous cause i almost never sweat. and then my stomach — oh my god my stomach — it felt like all of my organs did a flip! i haven’t felt that way since Katakuri spun me around in the mirror world, and even then it didn’t feel nearly as bad as it did just now! i seriously thought i was about to yack all over [y/n] if i didn’t get off the floor.”

Chopper stared at him wide-eyed, his breathing becoming rapid as he worked to piece the puzzle of Luffy’s sudden illness together. as Luffy continued, Chopper became increasingly more nervous, each of his symptoms sounding a little too close to a virus he had done some reading on earlier that week. he had read that the mystery disease came from ingesting a rare bacteria that thrived off of hot, humid climates and the salt from ocean water — which had coincidently been the exact conditions the straw hats had been sailing through for the past few days. Chopper’s “brave doctor” act slowly begins to deteriorate as Luffy continues to list his symtoms, “-and my chest got super tight, like someone was squeezing my heart and wringing out my soul”

tears welled up in Chopper’s eyes, a small trail of snot running out of his blue nose. the sound of his sniffling pulled Luffy out of his thoughts, returning his attention to his furry friend. “Chopper? what’s wrong buddy? was it something i said!?”

losing the battle of fighting back his tears, Chopper began to wail and turned around to flee the room. Luffy charged after him, puzzled as to why he would suddenly burst into tears. it turned out that Chopper was making his way to the kitchen, seeking comfort from Nami and Sanji, who had been preparing the crew’s next meal. the aroma of chicken and vegetables filled the room, the delicious scent traveling to the rest of the ship as the door swung wide open.

“hey! if the two of you are gonna horse around, then do it outside! i’m cooking here-“ Sanji shouted, cautiously swinging his knife to point in the direction of the deck.

“LUFFY’S GONNA DIE!” Chopper cried, ending Sanji’s sentence short and gaining the attention from the chef and his unexpected partner. bewildered, the pair turned to face the intruders, fear becoming apparent on both of their faces.

loud, thunderous footsteps had suddenly come to a halt upon entering the room, Luffy caught the swinging door with his large palm before shouting, “I’M WHAT?!”

“i’m sure that’s not true, Chopper. now what’s actually going on?!” Nami asked, her tone soft with reassurance. she had been chopping carrots and celery to accompany Sanji’s dish, the blade coming dangerously close to her long fingers upon the interruption. Chopper had run up to Nami, seeking comfort in her lap as he nuzzled his face into her thighs, wiping his tears on the pair of denim jeans she wore.

“all of his symptoms line up with a specific virus i was doing some reading on the other week! i don’t have the proper herbs to cure it in my collection! i’m so sorry,” Chopper said, the last part muffled as he hid his face behind his small hooves.

“well what were the symptoms? maybe you’re just jumping to conclusions buddy,” Sanji soothed, his raspy voice always softer when speaking to Chopper. with that, Chopper turned to Luffy with glossy eyes and snot dribbling down his chin, nodding his head for him to share his symptoms. so much for doctor-patient confidentiality.

Luffy huffed a deep breath, preparing for his crew to decide his fate, “fine. i dunno…when we were messing around on the deck, my chest just got real tight all of a sudden — and not from all the running around. it was…different, like an aching almost.” Luffy balled his hand into a fist, mimicking the tightness in his chest. “and my stomach started fluttering and burning, like way deep down. i’d never felt anything like that before in my life. and the weirdest part was that it didn’t hurt, but it actually felt kinda good for a moment…”

the words from Luffy’s rosy lips trailed off as he returned his gaze back to his crew, their faces shockingly calm and…happy? “why are you guys looking at me like that? what’s wrong with me??”

the door to the kitchen swung open once more, Zoro walking in and holding from a half-empty bottle of sake. “sounds like you’re in love,” he joked, chuckling as he brought the rim to his mouth and taking a long swig. Sanji began to berate him for being so selfish, claiming that the bottle he was so carelessly drinking from was meant for “special occasions only, dumbass!”

Luffy blew a raspberry through his lips, “yeah right! i’ve never even had a crush on anyone! that’s just gross, plus that’s Sanji’s job!”

“i don’t know Luffy, what you just described sounds exactly what i feel when i look at my sweet Nami and Robin!” Sanji cooed, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and smooching kisses in Nami’s direction.

Nami, not even flinching at Sanji’s advances, asked more questions to investigate Luffy’s condition, “well, did it happen when you were looking at anyone in particular..?” despite being known for her independence, Nami was very in tune with romance — always picking up on queues and indulging in romance fiction that Robin would entertain her with. the moment she asked the question, Luffy’s demeanor shifted.

“well...kinda. it happened when i was holding onto [y/n]” Luffy said, voice unfamiliarly low and shy. the entire room erupted in laughter, teasing Luffy for sweating something so normal. Chopper sighed with relief, glad to know that his friend wasn’t dying. Nami giggled and punched Luffy’s arm playfully, “you do have a crush, ya dope!”

Zoro slapped his back with an extra-heavy hand, his slight drunkenness causing him to lose control of his strength. something inside Luffy finally clicked, a brief moment of relief soothed his soul before the gravity of the situation came down on his shoulders like a fright train. the cacophonous laughter began to blend into a ringing in Luffy’s ears, overwhelmed with the information. he huffed a quick laugh and turned to make his way back to the boy’s quarters. what the hell?

…

Luffy couldn’t sleep that night, his eyes straining to carve out the grooves inside the wood that lay above him in the dark. everytime he closed his eyes, all he could see was you — the way your hips curved, your pillowy thighs plush across his lap, the small constellation of moles and freckles that sprinkled across your smooth skin. his cheeks flushed just at the thought, thanking every power up above that the room was dark and everyone was fast asleep. the racing of his heart was no match for the speed at which his mind ran, however, disgustingly sweet thoughts flooding his senses.

the brief moments of sleep he did get were interrupted by dreams about you. he pictured the way your warmth would feel beside him, entangled in his sheets and his arms after a long night of peaceful sleep. the rising sun’s glow landed on you just right, illuminating the soft skin on your bare back. your cheeks were colored with a soft, sleepy blush, the rise and fall of your back as you breathed soothed all his anxieties. your eyes had a softness to them that tugged at his heart as they stared into his own with contentment, your dark lashes still heavy with sleep. your plush lips fixed themselves into a smile, mumbling something that was inaudible to Luffy’s rosy ears. whatever you said didn’t matter, as your lips met his and morphed together into a soft kiss. morning breath be damned, he found himself drinking you in, touching every part of you, attempting to commit it to memory. however, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember exactly how you felt, the fuzziness of the dream clouding his senses. the dream felt like a warm embrace, a tight grasp that he wouldn’t mind staying in for just a little while longer…

when he woke up, Luffy opened his eyes to the empty spot in his bed — you nowhere to be found. your absence led Luffy’s heart to ache, feeling like he was missing a piece of him. this newfound discovery about himself tied loose ends in his life that he couldn’t quite pinpoint — he wasn’t sure why he always made sure you were okay during a battle, why you were the reason behind his motivations for improvement, why he always caught himself sneaking glances at you during meal and leisurely time. you had caught his attention from the moment he met you, and now he knew exactly why. these feelings were both enticing and petrifying, Luffy suddenly filled with guilt for being so unprofessional. although, Monkey D. Luffy has never been a man of tradition.

…

the past few days had been a blur for Luffy, constantly lost in his own thoughts. he started becoming hyperaware of every little thing, making sure that every time he saw you he was presentable. Luffy started grooming himself — showering more than once week, spending more time in front of the mirror to tweak his wild hair so it sat just right. with the bouts of self-confidence came insecurity as well, overanalyzing his posture and facial features. the scars on his face and chest suddenly the only thing he could think about — wondering if you thought them to be impressive or gross, seeing them as a mark of failure and weakness rather than a symbol of survival and determination. he traced the rough edges of the scar on his chest with his calloused fingertips, analyzing the fusion of pinks and reds that color his chest. this particular day he decided to cover it up, buttoning his shirt just above his scar to conceal it from the rest of the crew, embarrassment and shame pang in his chest.

conflicting feelings wrestling in his mind and chest began to take physical tolls on Luffy — deep purple bags weighing his eyes down from the lack of sleep. he decided that he finally had enough of this senseless torture, deciding that today was the day he would tell you exactly how he felt. Luffy’s impatience led him to believe that jumping to confessions would finally allow him to marvel in all the good things love had to offer. he couldn’t wait for you to be in his arms, to carry you around on his back, to kiss you anywhere and anytime that he wanted. he couldn't wait for you to be his.

Luffy figured he would pay the only person he thought would be the most well-versed in this thing called “love” — his ship’s cook, Sanji. despite having a questionable past when it comes to romance, Sanji could actually be captivating, making suave advances at all kinds of women over their years of travel and succeeding. Luffy wandered into the kitchen, finding Sanji sharpening his knives in preparation for dinner.

“hey Sanji. can i ask you somethin’? Luffy asked, resting his elbows on the pristine table cloth as he took a seat. Sanji put his knives away and returned his attention to the young man, cautiously approaching him as he wore a solemn expression.

“sure, what’s up?”

“how can i tell [y/n] i like her? i mean, i don’t wanna scare her away but at the same time, i just can’t stop thinking about her! she’s so pretty I’m worried she wouldn’t wanna be with someone like me...” Luffy trailed off, getting lost in his sorrows once again.

Luffy’s uncertainty threw Sanji for a loop, scrunching his curly eyebrows in confusion, “since when do you care about what people think? just be yourself, Luffy, you have nothing to worry about. i’m sure if [y/n] didn’t like you she wouldn’t have joined the crew”

“well yeah but what if she doesn’t like like me? what if me telling her i like her scares her away and she’ll never be a part of the crew again?” Luffy threw his face into his hands, pulling at the stretchy skin around his cheeks in exasperation.

“if that’s the case, then treat her to a huge bouquet of flowers! women love that flashy shit,” Sanji claimed, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “i’ll even help you bake her a cake or something. sound good?”

“hell no, you’ve got it all wrong!” Nami exclaims, wandering her way into the kitchen for an apple to snack on. “women don’t just want ‘flashy shit’ Luffy, especially not [y/n].”

“wow Nami, that top looks darling on you!!” Sanji exclaims, scurrying over to her to get a closer look. brushing off the compliment with a simple “thank you,” Nami continues her string of advice.

“look, since i’m the closest to her i think that you should just be yourself. all [y/n] truly wants is honesty, and if you tell her exactly how you feel, she’ll be understanding no matter what.”

and it was true. Nami had easily become your best friend the moment you stepped foot on the thousand sunny — the both of you confiding in each other free of judgement. it was Nami and Usopp who had listened to you pour your heart out about how you truly felt about your captain. there were nights where you cried into her lap about how lonely you felt because you thought he would never reciprocate these feelings, believing that he couldn’t afford to make the room in his heart to love you more than just platonically. you believed that you’d be stuck in the friendzone forever, your bottled feelings gnawing at the walls of your heart bit by bit until it was entirely consumed by loneliness. Nami kept these moments in mind, internally screaming as she couldn’t wait to watch this relationship unfold. you idiots have no idea.

“once you’ve gathered your thoughts, then you can tell her how you feel. but until then, i’d lay low for a while — that way you don’t jump her the next time you see her. but don’t completely ignore her!”

Luffy hadn’t expected to take Nami’s advice, but it made sense as she was the closest to you. he brought her into a tight embrace, squeezing the petite woman’s frame as he chuckled a giddy laugh into her ear, “thanks Nami! who knew you were so good at this stuff?”

“yeah well, this therapy is gonna cost you about fifteen hundred berr—“

“SEE YA!!” Luffy shouted over his shoulder, cutting Nami off before she could set her price in stone.

…

you hadn’t seen or heard from Luffy in a few days, which wouldn’t worry you under normal circumstances if he wasn’t acting so…strange. your captain has always been cooky and silly, but this behavior was different. the times you had seen Luffy, you flashed him a soft smile, a peaceful, friendly greeting. however, his eyes would just go wide and avert your gaze, something akin to fear flashing in his dark eyes. when you tried to confront him about it, he would brush you off and say it was just leftover stress — but the way his lips pursed and how he avoided direct eye contact let you know that he was lying. after that conversation, you resulted to avoiding him as well, embarrassed to seek him out when it was very clear that he did not want to see you.

the loneliness and shame was eating away at you, every day a piece of you withered away as you mulled over what you could’ve possibly done to receive such treatment. all roads led back to that moment on the deck, where you got too comfortable, too carried away and let yourself do something you knew you shouldn’t have. it was too much, why would you ever think that was a good idea?

you made your way to Nami’s room, trails of dark grey running down your cheeks from the mascara you had cried off. upon opening the door, you caught a glimpse of Nami and Usopp laughing about something before they directed their attention to you. Nami’s warm smile quickly faded, patting the cushy space next to her as she invited you over. the moment you shut the door behind you, the tears returned tenfold. all the pent up frustration and anger came pouring out of you, strong streams of salty tears surging from your eyes.

“i think Luffy hates me,” you said, voice strained from choking back a sob. you filled them in on all the gruesome details, spilling the guilt and honest frustrations you felt and how you blamed yourself for his behavior. Nami immediately regretted the advice she gave to Luffy when she saw the state you were in, never imagining that you would’ve been this devastated. her and Usopp exchanged quick glances, warning each other not to reveal too much so they wouldn’t spoil Luffy’s confession plan.

“oh [y/n], i promise he doesn’t hate you. boys are just dumb sometimes, especially the ones on our crew,” Nami joked, chuckling lightly to ease the tension that lingered in the air. you huffed a breathy laugh as you wiped your nose, tucking your hair behind your ears to avoid getting the trails of snot into it.

“i think he’s just going through some personal stuff right now,” Usopp reassured, twisting the tiny frills of your shirt between his fingers as he lay sprawled out on Nami’s mattress. “trust me, i know what it’s like to have Luffy hate you for a while, and this just isn’t it. just give him some time and he’ll come back around.”

their kind words put you at ease, the stream of tears drying out slowly as you collected yourself again. “thank you guys, i needed that.”

the pair gave you soft smiles, continuing to keep the mood alive by cheering you up with filling you in on the predicament Usopp got himself into earlier that day.

…

the sunset marked one week since this whole predicament began, Luffy finally ready to confide in you about how he truly felt. he had prepared a whole speech — each line carefully crafted with Nami’s help to describe exactly how he felt, not wanting to miss a beat. he couldn’t afford to forget anything, as one tiny mistake could result in catastrophe. Luffy had never prepared this much for anything, not even when fighting warlords and emperors. you had superseded all of them, your attention and feelings more important than his own.

Luffy recited his speech over and over again in his head, making his way to your favorite spot on the sunny in hopes of finding you. the second he laid his eyes on you, however, his mouth went dry and the words suddenly scrambled together in his head. his attention was fixated on the way your face glowed against the orange horizon, the breeze blowing your hair behind you and putting every feature on display. you leaned over the railing, resting your elbows on the wooden edge as you drank in the smell of the seawater. your glowing eyes turned to meet Luffy’s, your face stoic and glum as you turned back to face the setting sun.

“fancy seeing you here,” you stated sarcastically, your words lacking any form of amusement as your frustration returned.

“can i talk to you about something?” Luffy said, his voice suddenly small and nervous. the tension in his voice had been unexpected, causing you to turn around and meet him face-to-face. you crossed your arms over your chest, nodding your head in his direction as a sign of permission for him to continue. Luffy took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts properly to restrain the word vomit that built up in his throat. although, his nerves made him feel like he was about to actually vomit.

“first, i want to apologize for the way i’ve been acting these past few days. it was never my intention to make you upset or mad at me or anything. i did it because…” Luffy paused, fidgeting with the hem of his shorts. god, this is so weird.

“because…?” you asked, the anticipation eating away at you. your heart thumped violently in your chest, throat beginning to sting as your nerves returned.

“because i like you, okay? like more than i should — and if i’m being completely honest, i didn’t even know i could like someone like that. but when I’m with you, i feel like i have a purpose. and of course I feel that way with everyone else, but you’re different!”

Luffy took a small step forward, gently grabbing your hands and holding them in his. “the moment i realized that i actually liked you, something inside me clicked. it felt like everything suddenly made sense and a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. i felt like i could breathe again and i was free. hell, i’ve been having dreams about you ever since — but nothing weird though i promise!”

the way he threw his arms up in defense at that last sentence made you laugh, all of the dizzying stress releasing through your nose. you hadn’t realized it, but tears began to flow from your eyes. but these were tears of joy, tears of relief that everything you had beat yourself up over for the past week was all in your head. all you could do was stare at the man before you with a beaming smile and teary eyes, your brain short-circuiting as you took in every syllable that left his mouth.

“i’m so sorry, [y/n]. i never meant to make you feel like i was avoiding you on purpose, i was just finding the right things to say. i really don’t wanna screw this up, so — if you’ll have me — i want to be there for you. i want to be the person you wake up next to every morning, the person you can come to and share everything with. i want to be yours and i want you to be mine.”

Luffy’s thumb grazed your cheek, wiping away the tears that ran down your face. you leaned into his touch, gently pressing your lips into the palm of his hand. the intimate gesture caused Luffy’s cheeks to burn a bright red, a hopeful smile forming across his lips.

“took you long enough,” you teased, redirecting his hands to your waist as you draped yours around his neck. “i’ve loved you for a long time, ya know? i was just waiting to see if you’d ever come around, dumbass.”

Luffy could no longer contain his excitement, hoisting you up by your waist and spinning you around in the air. your playful squeals were quickly silenced as he brought your lips to yours, drinking you in with every touch and taste.

many people made the assumption that Luffy was born under a lucky star, attributing his success to destiny and fate rather than the determination and strength he put forth. that claim had always pissed him off as it made him feel like he was cheating the system entirely. however, it wasn’t until he held you in this moment that he finally understood what they had meant.

i could get used to this.

teehee i’ve been wanting to write for luffy for sooooo long but never knew what to write about. then this idea came to me like an epiphany and im so glad it did!

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itsriabby · 1 month ago

Text

Mona Lisa - S.H. (Part 2)

“Bob Ross over here”

actor!steve x makeupartist!reader

Plot: When Steve meets his beloved makeup artist’s replacement, he swears it’s hate at first sight. But… is there truly such a thing?

Trope: enemies x lovers

Warnings: Mention of family trauma.

Helloooo! Thank you so much for the love on part one! Since you asked to make this a series, your wishes are my command. ;) Hope you like it!

Main Masterlist | Chapter 3

————————————————————————

“You’re a magician babe, I look bad as fuck!” Eddie exclaims excitedly, checking himself out in the mirror while posing. They were filming very action-filled scenes this week, so you had to do a couple bruises and cuts on Eddie’s face. Let’s say he liked the results.

“Right? You’re looking too hot Eds, you should get beaten up more often.” You nod to him, jokingly fanning your face.

“Gladly, if you do the honors.” He raises his eyebrows flirtatiously.

“I don’t know.” You shrug “I can’t fathom harming your beautiful face.” You smile at him, giggling a little.

“Oh babe, I would so enjoy it if it came from you.” He switched to a seductive voice, holding in his laughter.

“I’m gonna throw up.” Steve mutters, sitting on his phone in the corner of the room.

It’s been a couple weeks since filming began, and if one thing’s for certain, it’s the fact that Steve and you hate each other.

After that amazing first impression, you tried to be the better person and let it go. But Steve didn’t do the same. He started doing little things to piss you off; things like talking on the phone the whole time and moving excessively, pointing out non-existent errors (“you missed a spot here”,”you made me look too pale”,”actually, I liked it better before, change it”…) and being extremely late on purpose so you’d have to rush and do it in 10 minutes. It was making you go crazy.

So, you decided to inconvenience him just as much. You took the cushion off his chair, made sure to poke him in the eye a couple times, blended his makeup excessively hard, turned the air conditioner too cold, dropped his phone and belongings off your desk “by accident” because they’re in the way… It was a full on war now.

The quips and rude talking continued, not even trying to conceal it in front of other castmates. It was a known fact: Filming starts at 9 am, you come with your lines learned, Steve and you can’t stand each other.

Eddie was a pleasant surprise. He had joined the cast as a new character, and you immediately hit it off. He loves joking around and play flirting with you, and to be honest, you’re thankful for the lightness and fun he brings to the trailer.

“If I see vomit on the floor, you’re cleaning the whole thing with a toothbrush.” You harden your voice, making sure he hears it.

“Sure, why don’t you lend me yours?” He smiles sarcastically.

“Oh, you don’t own one? My bad, I assumed you did basic hygiene.” You return the same fake smile.

He rolls his eyes, falling back on the chair “You know I do, I see you getting unnecessarily close to me. You have a smell kink or something?”

You narrow your eyes “Nah, I’ve become accustomed to your odor, I can even stand it now.” You put your hands on your hips, like you’re proud of yourself.

“Haha.” he singsongs, visibly upset by you saying that, as if his bathroom isn’t filled with multiple scented products, 10-steps-routines, and a vast collection of colognes (he’s still trying to find his signature fragrance, ok?) “Her obsession is becoming a problem Munson, she’s just so in love with me.” He smirks, raising his eyebrows cockily.

Eddie puts his hands up in surrender and looks away, as if not wanting to take part in this whole situation.

You frown, offended “I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole, Steven.”

“How many times do I have to say my name’s not fucking Steven!” He throws his hands in the air.

“You know, I’d love to keep watching you guys fight, but Frankie has to do my hair, so I’ll leave you to it.” Eddie stands up from his chair and does a soldier salute.

“C’mon man, do I seriously have to be alone with her?” Steve pleads to him.

“Yup, I’ll give you that privilege.” Eddie winks at you and turns around to leave.

“Lucky me.” You mutter under your breath.

“I heard that!”

“That was the point.” You roll your eyes.

The trailer is filled with tense silence as soon as Eddie leaves. It’s been two weeks now filled with conversations like these. Most times you enjoy making him mad, it’s fun, and you have to admit it makes you feel alive. But it’s in times like these that you realize how little you know about each other, and how unbearable it feels to sit in quiet resentment, wondering what the next issue will be.

You’re putting concealer on his dark under eyes when he starts to scoff.

“What?” You spit.

He shrugs “That’s not how Angela did it.”

You step back and look at him with desdain “Well that’s too bad, cause she’s not your makeup artist, I am.”

“Trust me I know, I pray for you to get fired everyday..” he clenched his jaw, still not looking at you.

“What a coincidence! I pray for your character to get killed off, so we’re even.” You keep tapping the brush aggressively on his face.

He looks up at you, frowning, and grabs your wrist, taking your brush off of him “What is your problem?”

“My problem?” You raise your eyebrows incredulously “What’s YOUR problem? You started this with your “oh my dear Angela got sent home and they brought this ugly skank in her place” shit.”.

“Ok, first, I never said you were ugly, second, I said I was sorry for insinuating you slept your way here. Get over it.” He stated, signaling the one and two with his fingers.

He’s so fucking smug. You roll your eyes.

You were about to make another remark when you step back a second, remembering what he said. A slow smirk takes ahold of your face, and you point an accusatory finger at him “You think I’m pretty?”

He looks taken aback by your reaction, letting his hands fall to his thighs “That’s what you take from what I said?”

He looks annoyed, looking at you like you’re something he’d rather get rid off quickly. He raised a hand to point at your brush, and before you can say anything, he beats you to it “Whatever, just finish already so I can be gone.”

You poke your tongue into your cheek, a little butthurt that he didn’t play along with the rouse, and a little insecure that he didn’t answer your question “Yeah, ok.” You mutter.

The hateful banter bubble has popped, and now you stay quiet, the air feeling uncomfortable. You keep your eyes focused on your brush strokes, and Steve subtly looks at your face, trying to read you. He starts moving his leg up and down, and his hands grip the arms of the chair. He’s thinking of speaking when your phone goes off.

You frown, like you shouldn’t be getting that call, and quickly drop the brush on the table, muttering a soft “sorry” and beelining for your purse.

Steve can see your face dropping when you see who’s calling you, then you make a gesture to him as if asking him to wait one minute. He nods. “Mum? What’s wrong?” You whisper into the phone, trying to keep your voice low. “It’s- mum, no just- just lay down. I’ll be there before you know it.” You rub your forehead in a stressed manner, clenching and unclenching your first. It’s something Steve used to do when he talked to his parents too, one thing you seem to have in common. “Mom I’m at work I have to- I- yeah… I know mom.” Your shoulders drop “I’m hanging up ok? I’ll talk to you later.” He can still hear the faint muffled talking when you cut the line.

You go back to work, while Steve looks at you worriedly. The fight, passion and sass you usually sport has been drained out of you, and he doesn’t get why it bothers him so much.

He lightly taps your arm, trying to make you feel better in a way but not knowing how, since you both don’t really do this kinda stuff “Um, are you… are you ok?”

Your stare falls to his eyes, taking in his troubled expression. You shake off your uneasiness and try to put on a normal face “I’m good.”

“You sure?”

You hum your affirmation, still not looking at him.

He gets a little closer to inspect your face, and after a couple seconds he leans back and takes your hands, lowering them and holding them gently in his “Hey it’s still early, maybe you could… I don’t mind if you take a break, you know?” He looks briefly at the clock in the wall and looks back at you empathetically, giving you a tight smile.

You scowl at him, taking your hands away and letting his fall on his lap “Don’t pity me.”

You hate when this happens, he doesn’t even know the situation and he already feels bad for you. You’re supposed to be professional, you’re young for this job as it is, you don’t want to seen like a little kid that has to take “breaks” in between her already short work hours. You need to be taken seriously, you need to be looked at as an adult competent enough to do this job.

“Woah- I don’t-“ he holds his hands up in surrender, trying to explain but you cut him off.

“I am perfectly capable of doing this in the scheduled time.” You glower, rushing to pick up more product to work on him.

“I never said you weren’t.”

“But you implied it.” You raise your eyebrows, finishing with the base and getting the eyeshadow palette to make his skin look a little dirtier.

“No I didn’t! I just- geez I just wanted to be nice for a second, It won’t happen again… God.” He mutters the last part, exhaling loudly.

You clench your jaw and stay quiet for a second. He has a point.

You speak under your breath, not wanting to say he was right “Maybe I overreacted a little.”

“You think?” He breaks into a small smile, and neither of you speak after that, letting you get your work done.

After 5 more minutes of him looking at you or resting his eyes while you put his makeup on, you speak softly “That’s all.”

You step back, letting him look at himself in the mirror, checking out the results. He nods and gives you a polite smile “Thanks.”

You return it “Don’t thank me, I get paid for this.”

He scoffs at your joke, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve been told.”

He stands up, dusting his jeans off the specks of setting powder that might’ve fallen before “Well… I’ll see you tomorrow.”.

You nod “See you tomorrow.” He does an awkward wave goodbye and turns to leave “Oh, and Steven?”

“My name’s not-“ Sigh “What?”

You try to stifle your smile “Your fly is open.”

His eyes go big and he panic checks himself, quickly reaching for the zipper of his jeans. His face turns into a scowl when he sees you were taking a piss out of him “You think you’re so funny…”

“I know I am.” You giggle “Goodbye Steven.” You usher him out.

He rolls his eyes but lets a tiny smile slip out “Sure, whatever.”

He’s gone before you know it. A genuine smile comes to your face, and you hate the fact that you can’t hold it in.

This doesn’t mean you like him, it doesn’t even mean you tolerate him, not in the slightest. But… maybe he’s not that bad.

Like a Peace treaty… for now at least.

———————————————————————

The Peace treaty is out the fucking window.

“Give. It. Back.”

“No.”

“I swear to God, If that thing is not on my palm in the next three seconds…” You hold your hand out, pinching between your eyes in exasperation.

“It won’t be until you admit that I’m a good actor!” Steve holds your phone above both of you, his arm straight so there’s no way you can reach it.

Steve and you getting along barely lasted a day. Before you knew it, you both found new ways to bring chaos into the trailer again. You guess that’s just how it’s always gonna be with both of you.

“I mean, you’re here aren’t you?” You wave around to signal the set they’re in.

“That’s not- that doesn’t mean anything!”

“I don’t know Steve, maybe you’re blowing this out of proportion.” Robin shrugs, happily eating your bag of salted almonds.

You’ve become pretty good friends with Robin. She’s alone most of the time she has to be here, so one day you saw her eating alone and invited her to eat with you. She hasn’t left your side since.

When Steve said you can’t get rid of her, he really meant it. She follows you everywhere when Steve’s away, and even when he is, she usually takes your side, which makes you like her even more than you already do. She gets your humor, and she also gets the way young women are treated in here, so it’s not a surprise that you bonded over bad-mouthing certain creepy producers. It’s nice to have a girl friend here. You didn’t know you needed one so much.

“What?” His eyebrows scrunch and he looks at Robin like she betrayed him “Robs! Bob Ross over here said I was a telenovela actor, I’m not a telenovela actor!”

“Alright, alright… Calm your tits Steven it was just a joke.” You try to take the phone out of his hand while he’s not looking, but still, no luck.

“It’s not a joke, it’s an insult to my work.” His shoulders slump while he still keeps your phone high up. You can hear a sad tone on his voice.

Robin looks pitiful now, stopping her chomp on your food to give you a “fix it” look.

Ok, maybe it was a sensitive subject.

You cross your arms taking a deep breath “You’re a good actor.” You mutter in one tone, giving in. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’ll be upset by my comment”.

He raises an eyebrow.

“I mean, I knew you’d be upset, but I was hoping towards a passive aggressive talk back, not for you to go all sad puppy.” You look around, trying to avoid his gaze.

He smiles a little connivingly and drops his hands down, handing you your phone “See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?”

“Don’t push it” you give him a pointed look, and he nods with a tight-lipped smile.

——————

You’re packing up your things a couple days later when you hear knocks on the trailer’s door.

“Cleaning lady!”

You smile recognizing the voice, even in its high-pitched form “Come in Eddie.”

He opens the door, walking in that laid back attitude he always has. Robin walks behind, rushing around him to sit next to you. A couple meters away, Steve slowly steps into the room.

“So,” Eddie claps his hands together, looking at you with an all-knowing smirk “We have a proposition.”

You raise your eyebrows skeptically “I love you Eds, but if this is you asking me to have an orgy with you guys, I’m gonna have to pass.”

He cackles at your response, shaking his head no “Damn babe, you really know how to let me down… But no, it’s not that. I got tickets to a very limited, very exclusive party in the valley tomorrow night, and you’re coming with us.” He makes a little dance, grinning from ear to ear.

Robin nods enthusiastically beside you.

You give them a fake smile “I don’t know guys, I’d love to but I’m not sure I’ll have the time.” Truly you did have the time, but you were worried about leaving your mom home alone. Your depressed, alcohol-dependent, messed-up mom.

It’s not something you talk about a lot, plus you hadn’t really made any friends in the city until now, so it hadn’t been an issue until today.

But you need to keep these friends, and telling them the extent of your family trauma is not really the best way to make them think you’re cool.

“Bffff, of course you do!” Eddie pushes your shoulder softly “C’mon, you just have to get all dolled up for me, and I’ll pick you up from wherever.”

You silently think about it, maybe one night away won’t make much of a difference.

“Pleaseeeeeee, you can’t leave me alone with these pigs.” Robin jokes about Eddie and Steve, the last one looking at you, also waiting on your answer.

He’s got his hands in his pockets. It’s like he’s trying to make it seem like he couldn’t care less, but you can see the way he’s staring. Does he want you to say yes?

Do you want him to want you to say yes?

You do. Why?

You surprise yourself with the answer “Sure, alright I’ll go.”

Eddie picks you up in a bear hug, and Robin takes you from him to hold you too, jumping around and babbling excitedly non-stop about how fun you’re gonna have and how long it’s been since she’s gone to a party like this.

Lifting your stare from Robin’s shoulder, you meet Steve’s eyes. He notices and nods at you, smiling genuinely.

You return it, and nod slightly to Robin, making a face as if saying “She’s a little crazy.”

He chuckles softly and shrugs his shoulders, raising his eyebrows as if saying “What can we do?”

And it’s in this moment, you think Steve Harrington is rubbing off on you. He’s still insufferable, don’t get me wrong, but… maybe, just maybe, you could get used to it.

At the same time, Steve stares at you thinking the same thing, wondering if maybe the warm feeling inside him is a signal of a blooming friendship.

Well, he’ll see just what that feeling is the following night, in that extravagant party, where he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you, you and the guy shamelessly flirting with you.

————————————————————————

Hiiii! Did you like iiit? Someone said to make a taglist, so I added the people who commented and reposted. If you want to be on it tell me and you’re in! :)

@chelseypprimrose @stilesbilinskixx @campcampie @boomitsallie1 @spelliwasunder @wishing-on-a-staranise @stranger-things-mania @irrelevantbutembarrassing @thepassionatereader @cosmicspacewitch @seatnights @talkativecarnation @littlemisslovestoread @skipper2505 @aphetropy

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ckret2 · 1 month ago

Note

Was re-reading your fic and a cheesy joke I heard in high school came back to haunt me when I got to the beach scene. Here it is:

"Why did the obtuse angle go to the beach?"

"It was over 90 degrees."

On an unrelated note, do you think Ford would ever use geometry jokes/puns?

Comedy gold. I've gotta find a way to work that into the fic.

I'm going to take this question unnecessarily seriously: for me, the core of any "would [character] use [subject matter]-based puns" is "would [character] use puns?" Because, the subject of the puns aside, the world is divided into Pun Lovers and Pun Haters.

My gut feeling says that he'd be a pun hater, given his known grammatical pedantry and the likelihood for puns to break grammar rules. But I never go with a gut feeling when I can go with canon evidence instead.

And I'm coming up blank, do we ever see Ford using puns? Like,, on purpose? There are plenty of creatures with punny names in the journal and such ("plaidypus"), but it's hard to tell whether Ford came up with them or adopted terms that the locals and/or research materials already used for the creatures. Princess Unattainabelle is clearly a pun, but again we don't know whether that was his creation or if she's a stock character pre-written into DD&MD lore, the way Probabilitor is.

Off the top of my head, I can only remember Ford making three jokes, all in TBOB: "the apple pie is made from scratch" / "I must meet the chef who made the atoms"; "can I call you slick?" / "you can call me anything except late for dinner"; and "I have missed you... but my aim is getting better!" Two of those jokes he learned from Bill & his dad. All three of them are based on wordplay, but not based on puns—instead it's taking the less-expected definition of words.

Unless someone else remembers other jokes he's made, I'd call that the most likely basis of his sense of humor.

So, he might not make geometry-based puns; but on the other hand if somebody said "I'm driving straight from Portland to San Francisco!" he might go "wouldn't it be easier to drive there on roads?"

#sphynxgriffin #ask #grunkle ford #ford pines #(putting it in the main tags in case anybody remembers ford making jokes that I don't remember)#gravity falls

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hees-mine · 3 months ago

Text

Second chance - L. HS

Pairing: heeseung X reader

Warnings: smut, the usual.

Genre: ex’s to?

WC: almost 4k

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” You rolled your eyes the moment you heard your ex’s voice from over your shoulder.

It was a party your mutual friends were throwing, so you don’t know why he thought you wouldn’t be there, but something deep down is telling you he knows full well and just wanted an excuse to come up and talk to you.

“Surprise, surprise,” you mumbled in response, tapping the rim of your glass.

“You treat me like I’m a stranger.” he lowers his head with a soft chuckle and takes the vacant stool next to you to sit on.

“Not a stranger, but no need to be unnecessarily cordial,” you say, not sparing him a glance.

“Would it be unnecessary to at least treat me with some decency?” His question is almost laughable to you.

“The same way you treated me with decency back when we dated,” your reply is sarcastically, and he can’t help but chuckle.

“So you’re still not over it?” He says, referring to the breakup.

“No, I am. I just find it funny after how things ended. You expect me to just welcome you back into my good graces.” Picking up your cup, you take a small sip of liquor.

“The past is the past. We could always start anew, you know, maybe even be friends,” he shrugs.

“You can’t be serious.” Laughing incredulously, you roll your eyes once again, finding him to be amusing.

“Fine, maybe not friends, maybe we could be fuck buddies” his suggestion sounds even more humorous than his previous statement. This just kept getting better and better.

“So that’s why you’re bothering me? You don’t have any shame do you?” You finally look at him and he looks like the same old heeseung that broke your heart.

“No need to feel shame. I’m just a guy who misses his ex’s pussy” he smirks.

“You’re disgusting.” You scrunch your nose, making a face of disgust.

“Fair enough,” he annoyingly grabs your cup, purposely drinking from the spot that had your lip stain on it. “But don’t for a second act like you don’t miss the way I fuck you,” he says cockily. “Besides, if I recall correctly, the last time I had my dick in you, you said it was the best ever.”

You cringe at the thought. “That was then, this is now.” You keep a straight face.

“Okay, will let me give you a refresher.” he places his hand over yours. “Let me remind you what it’s like to have me inside you.” he looks at your lips, then your eyes, his tongue licking the remains of your liquor off his plump lips.

A shaky sigh escapes your lips, and you close your eyes, exhaling deeply, hating that he still had this effect on you. “I think I should get going.” Attempting to leave proves useless as he grabs your wrist, keeping you there.

“I think you should come back to my place with me. Come on, no strings attached, just me and you for one night.”

It’s hard to say no, it’s hard to think straight after five months, you’re still not over him. He pops up in your dreams. Sometimes, you swear you still smell his cologne on your pillow or the soft melody of him humming in your silent apartment.

Obviously, one of you was more affected by the split, that being you, and right now, instead of keeping your ground, you felt yourself slipping.

“This isn’t the best idea,” you mutter to him.

“So? Who cares, baby? Let me fuck you” his words sound gross in your ears but still give you a chill in your spine. His request is so nasty yet irresistible.

“I- I have too much respect for myself to allow this now if you’ll excuse me I’m heading home” you stood up and he quickly follows you not ready to take no for an answer you both weave through the crowd him hot on your trail.

“Respect? Is that what you call it when you were sucking me off in the public bathroom stall? Or when you let me bend you over the balcony? And don’t forget that time we spent Christmas at your families. You were so fucking needy for it you could barely keep your hands off my cock at the dinner table” You’re both at the exit now, making your way outside. The fresh air feels chilly on your skin, but it does little to nothing to quell the heat between your legs, his words going straight to your core, and you hate to admit how much just the memory was turning you on. “Had to cup your mouth the whole time while I fucked you 'cause you couldn’t keep those slutty little moans to yourself” he presses himself against your back, his hot breath fanning your ear.

“S-stop it.” You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to ground yourself.

“Why?” He places his hands on your waist, and you don’t push him away.

“Cause-“

He cuts through your words. “Cause it’s turning you on, isn’t it? Bet that pussy is already getting sticky for me.”

Read full story on my Patreon

#heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung #heeseung fluff #heeseung #enhypen hyung line #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen fluff #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfic #enhypen heeseung #enhypen scenarios #enhypen

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sgiandubh · 3 months ago

Text

Prophetic

Every single time things look hard to decipher or farcical (and this is one of those farcical times), I remember a long post by @hardblazesong, dealing with BTS aspects and the intricacies of this cesspool of a fandom. I am yet to read something more clear and more bravely stated than the things she wrote almost eight years (!) ago, even if I do not necessarily agree with everything. Especially as far as SC's sexuality is considered and examined, for example - but that is secondary, to me.

Every word in this quoted passage was confirmed by what happened next, for example. And then, some more, if at all possible:

This is exactly what happened, rinse and repeat to oblivion. 'No one above D level status', with the odd lap dancer/Hooters waitress thrown in, for variety. Gross? Effective on the short term perhaps, to quench thirsty/insistent/too close to the real thing rumors and found tidbits, yet damn penalizing on the long run. MPC's dwindling subscription figures are testimony to it, as are the mediocre projects coming his way. And now he sorely needs a seriously good one to keep his rep at a decent level. You see, the entire kilt-cladded, warrior daddy imagery/fantasy is also quietly wearing off, as OL is coming to its merciful end. But believe it or not, S will survive even this life-changing experiment with fame. The key question here is 'how' and I have no definitive answer to it. But I am confident, and this Soroptimist approach of mine will always be my guilty pleasure, as far as S is concerned. Perhaps the only one, since the guy won't ever make me turn my head for him in the street. Not even sorry about that. But as I have already told you, I do like an underdog and know how to spot them, when I see one.

Now, as far as C is concerned, the 'low key thing' turned into the perfectly artificial farce we all know about. It is my sincere belief at least 85% of her Taliban Stan crowd is simply paying lip service to what they chose to believe and are constantly being reminded of by their trolling Sopranos. So much so, in fact, that it all reeks rather of Pollyannaism than critical thinking, no matter how brutal or self-assured they may sound. And at this point in time, with zero communication on the topic and C who apparently DGAF about narrative continuity when it comes to this, it's only fair to say more oil is being quietly, constantly thrown onto those embers of suspicion and legitimate, logical doubt.

As for going political, we all saw what happened with S's Gaza comment, didn't we? Case in point to never cross obvious red lines and allow your own emotions get in a mix you cannot control and which must not have been addressed, to start with. Especially when you are, above anything else, a media product manufactured on purpose for reaching the widest potential audience. MAGA Mommies crowd included.

Also, this:

Again, this is exactly what happened, and consistently so. Proof of this are the multiple times I had to excuse myself to powder my nose in the middle of a Zoom call or meeting, whenever my cellphone was blinking with concerned messages about this or that insignificant turn of an apparently endless, boring and disingenuous AF narrative. Shippers are worried and potentially even hurt every single time a Fitness Harem representative shows up on the roster. S knows that - how could he not, he is part and parcel of it? Trolls know that: in fact, this is their bread and butter in this fandom. And the reason this happens is an unnecessarily cruel and by now pathetic bout of schizophrenic trivia deliberately being thrown in, from time to time, for... eh... for reasons. Whether this is for 'protection' (complete quiet would be way more decent and effective, I think) or diversion, or remaining relevant, or even shits and giggles is entirely secondary, one more time. These allow to address all the factions of this fandom at once, using what are by now some lazy, well-tried and accessible plot devices (SM twisting reality, cheap pap walks, timeline innuendos, etc). Again, this is wrong and harmful, in the long run. It is refusing to see the forest for the trees and completely ignore the fact this is building the wrong persona and the wrong brand. Back to that sore need for a really good project I have mentioned before and own reasoning nicely tied in, thank you.

As for how SC feel about us, shippers, I suppose things are clear. I don't think they like us, and to be blunt, how could they? Mistakes have been repeatedly made, especially when it comes to projecting going completely, tastelessly out of control, the hyper sexualization and objectivation of both S and C (naively dirty fanfic, anyone? come on, we all read it!) and the liberties some took with decency, as far as C is particularly concerned. And by this, I don't mean stalking - that is pushing Covfefe Pics really too far and being a perfect hypocrite about it, when we know the entire faction was demanding proof, on many tones & in many ways and kept on pressuring for something along those lines to happen. To me, however, the most toxic part of it was definitely Jess' unfortunate drooling all over someone else's love story. It definitely had an impact and it was definitely been used as such, until it wasn't. The rest of all that obsessive approach are just spin-offs, but the bad seeds were gleefully planted there and then.

Before landing here, I carefully weighed in my options. And I chose to be primarily interested in business and legal paperwork simply because it so happened that an irritated reaction while on an Athens taxi ride prompted my arrival here. Then I realized it was the only way to bring something new to an already stalling body of public lore and keep it simple and real. What I did discover and what the trolls across the street chose to dismiss as trash is, in fact, evidence enough of the chasm that exists between what people are being served and supposed to gobble up, no questions asked, and a reality that certainly is more nuanced. This is what really makes me tick and this is why I am still here, while there are so many more useful and enjoyable ways to keep myself busy.

Rest assured, though: I am not going anywhere, even if from time to time life and a very strenuous job take precedence. I hope you can understand this. In the meanwhile, you have been so many witty, kind and warm people coming along my path, that I would feel like betraying you (and myself!) if I went away. And no, I have never felt more sure about SC than probably now, even if this 'SC' doesn't necessarily coincide with your own version of that saga.

Newbies can read the entire @hardblazesong's post here: https://www.tumblr.com/hardblazesong/678440162606350336/the-time-has-come-shipsters-to-write-a-lengthy?source=share

Thank you for reading this very long comment, summing up all the thoughts that nagged me while I was simultaneously translating and slaloming between my two mother tongues, while in Tunis. I am rather good at compartmentalization, you see. This post is also a clumsy homage of sorts to all the brilliant, brave and bold women, past and present, of The Shire, who have tried and managed to see beyond the thick veil of deceit this entire #shitshow is. The fact so many of us, across so many cultures and personal circumstances, saw the same damn thing and questioned it with integrity and wit, should be arresting evidence there are more things.

PS: I think we can all agree on the fact the Biggest Troll in this fandom is 'Erself, the Flip-Flop Blue Nailpolish Goddess. But that's a different story.

#fandom #shitshow #PR #business #marketing

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existential-crisis-of-the-mind · 4 months ago

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Tim Drake as a low key gamer boyfriend

Playing a slice of life game like Stardew Valley together:

He is all about optimisation over aesthetics. Doesn’t fully comprehend why you’d want to spend a day talking to villagers and looking for collectibles over grinding for ore in the mines.

“But think about it babe, once we get enough iron ores for sprinklers, our crops will automatically be watered and we can use our energy to do other things!”

Sucks at the fishing mini game, even after he got the most expensive finishing rod and special bait. He can get very sulky about it but immediately pipes up when you offer to help.

“Oh my god! Can’t believe you caught the legendary fish! You’re amazing at this” he cheers as he envelopes you in a tight hug “Gonna buy a fish tank and add the lil guy to it to commemorate this moment”

Loves playing the multi-player version with you, will happily forgo his efficiency maximisation driven gameplay to goof around with you. Always eager find you rare items and tries his best to bring out his creative side.

“So I had a go at decorating the house. Naturally I wanted to furniture to be colour coordinated, so I referred to the colour wheel to determine a complimentary colour palette and then- wait I’m rambling about an unnecessarily niche aspect again aren’t I?” He’s taken by surprise when you peck his cheek in response, offering him a bright smile “I love when you ramble about unnecessarily niche topics, please go on".

He flushes bright red in response, mentally cheering about how lucky he is that his partner is always so encouraging and excited about his random deep dives.

Playing Minecraft together:

Will fiercely protect you from creepers and zombies but also kills you the moment you spawn for a laugh.

Is very invested in building houses, has watched several tutorials on how to make cool builds (will not admit to this if asked).

“Babe check out the roof on this build, I’ve used a different style of tiered layering, it an interesting technique you see…”

Always ensures you’re topped up on resources. Brings back lil flowers when he goes off to scope out a new area. Is always excited for you to try out new things in the game.

“Oh my god! Babe look we've hit jackpot and found a ton of diamond- What? Oh no you should be the one to mine it! You’re gonna make your first diamond pickaxe!”

Playing Sims 4 together:

For whatever reason, his skill with Minecraft house builds simply does not translate into Sims gameplay. He cannot construct a decent roof to save his life.

“What do you mean I’ve half assed the roof? No babe come on, it’s a modern build. I made it flat on purpose. Don’t you see the vision??” You raise an eyebrow in response, he pauses for a beat before relenting “Alright fine it’s pretty shit, roofs are hard okay!”

Tries really hard to succeed at the Rags to Riches storyline before inevitably giving up and using the 50k motherlode cheat.

“Why does my sim have a bored moodlet after making 3 paintings? He’s gotta stay inspired if we wanna make any money!”

Gets way to caught up in the ‘create a sim’ mode

“What do you mean I’m taking too long? I’ve gotta have at least 3 everyday outfits sorted for my sim”

Loves pets in the Sims, spends way too much time cooing at puppies and kittens

“Oh my god look, this cat is named Mayor Whiskers! He’s the Mayor of this town, we’ve gotta make a good impression”

#tim drake #tim drake x reader #batman #dc comics #dc universe #red robin

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akookminsupporter · 2 months ago

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JIKOOK KARMA STRIKES AGAIN… AND SO DOES THE CHAOS

Jimin and Jungkook talking—or better yet, teasing us—really took me back to that last Wlive they did with Joon and Tae, when they were teasing us about AYS. It’s that same chaotic energy, where they drop just enough hints to get us all curious but refuse to spill the details. And now, once again, I’m sure the average Jikooker is sitting somewhere, wondering what kind of stories they were referring to and why they’re suddenly ‘worried’ that we might go somewhere.

Like… go where exactly? What is it that we’re supposed to be running away from? Or towards? Are they concerned we’ll collectively lose our minds and ascend to another dimension? Do they think we’ll all log off en masse? (Unlikely. Jikookers have survived worse. We don’t log off.) Or are they, for some reason, imagining us physically running somewhere? The way they worded it was so dramatic, and considering how… well, dramatic they can be, I wouldn’t put it past them to exaggerate on purpose just to wind us up.

Now, I don’t know about you guys, but the first time I read that whole conversation it sent me in a completely different direction. Hobi said that he’d heard some of these stories before and they made him laugh so hard his stomach hurt and I swear, my first thought was that they were talking about something so funny that we’d all end up running to the bathroom because we’d be laughing so hard, we’d pee ourselves. That was genuinely my first assumption ajajajajajjaaj. I don’t know if that’s me oversharing, but I promise you, that was my immediate thought process when I saw their conversation. Like, they weren’t just hinting at something mildly amusing—they were acting like these stories were comedic gold.

And honestly? Knowing Jimin and Jungkook, I can totally see it. These two have always had a way of getting themselves into ridiculous situations, whether it’s by accident or on purpose. They’re the type of people who will be completely serious one second and then somehow descend into absolute chaos the next. The number of times they’ve been caught making each other laugh uncontrollably, to the point where they’re falling over, hitting each other is endless. So, I can only imagine what kind of things they’ve been through that they personally find hilarious.

But what really gets me is the way they spoke about it. Like, the absolute drama of it all. The way they said it was so unnecessarily intense. It’s such a Jimin and Jungkook thing to do—acting as if they’ve lived through some wild, untold saga when in reality, it’s probably just them being absolute menaces and laughing at the dumbest things. And yet, here we are, hanging onto their every word, waiting to hear what exactly happened. I just know that whatever these stories are, they’re going to be peak Jikook behaviour. I. CANT. WAIT.

Now, Switching topics for a moment—because I need to talk about this—if there’s one thing that has been proven time and time again, it’s that ‘Jikook karma’ is very real. I mean, we’ve seen it play out so many times over the years, and it just keeps happening.

Like, take what happened recently. A few days ago, I saw some Jikookers talking about how the vecinas were up to their usual nonsense, this time about a restaurant. Apparently, the restaurant itself had to step in and clarify some things, which, of course, immediately made the vecinas furious. And what did they do in response? They started sending hate to the restaurant owner and blaming BHM for everything under the sun—again. Like clockwork.

But that wasn’t even the only thing going on. For some reason, the vecinas and Solos also decided to revive their weird obsession with trying to prove that Jimin and Jungkook don’t spend time together. They went back to claiming that the two of them don’t share a dorm—or whatever it’s called in the military—and that they don’t even see each other, which is just… fascinating, considering the fact that Jungkook himself already said otherwise. So, in other words, they were basically calling Jungkook a liar.

And what happened next? Classic Jikook karma. Because not only did Jimin confirm that he and Jungkook do share a dorm (or sleep in the same place, however, you want to phrase it), but both of them also casually mentioned that they’ve been through so much together—so many incredible and probably hilarious moments—that they can’t wait to tell us about them… even though they’re not sure if they can tell us. Like, they want to share, but maybe they shouldn’t. I mean, if that’s not the ultimate ‘Jikook karma’ moment, I don’t know what is.

Now, back to the fun part of all this—because I need to focus on that instead of the nonsense—Jungkook absolutely killed me when he said, "June 11th!" basically implying that the day they’re discharged from the military, they’ll spill everything. The way he just threw that date out there so confidently was hilarious, like, that’s when you’ll know everything! I love him, but yeah… I don’t see that happening.

I don’t know if being a Jikooker has made me pessimistic because deep down, I feel like we’re not actually going to hear these stories they were bragging about today. Like, I want to believe it. I want to trust that they’ll actually spill, but something tells me they won’t. They’ll either decide last minute that it’s too embarrassing, or they’ll just keep hyping it up without ever giving us the details. And honestly? That’s fine. We should be used to it by now. If anything, it’ll just be another inside joke for the fandom. After all, it took almost four years for us to finally hear about the ‘rainy day fight’. Four years. So if we have to wait another few years to hear these new stories, well… I guess we just have to be patient. Again.

#jikook karma #rosie's random thoughts #JKJJMP #JMPJKJ

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thriftedtchotchkes · 2 years ago

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keep it on the low

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: just because you and joel broke up doesn't mean you can't still (secretly) enjoy each other's company

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, hurt/angst, ex!joel, possessive!joel, pwp, smut, post-breakup sex, rough sex, mild exhibitionism

word count: 3k

a/n: all i can say is oops. blame sza, i guess. and of course, couch gif for obvious reasons. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!

Joel’s being obvious again. Discretion’s never been his strong suit, but he’s especially attuned to you today, and not in a good way. He’s not undressing you with his eyes, itching for the moment he can take you home like he usually is.

Nope, he just looks irritated as fuck. Way too angry for someone who just happens to be sitting in the same room as his ex. If he keeps this up, you’re going to get caught, and then what are you going to do? Fuck other people?

Like that’ll ever happen. You and Joel broke up almost three months ago and yet here you are, still hooking up like there’s no one else in this town to have sex with. But you have an agreement…sort of. You keep sleeping together, you don’t talk about it, and you definitely don’t tell anyone else. It’s high school-level dramatic and, honestly, you’re both way too old for this shit.

You know everyone’s gossiping about you behind your back, trying to figure out why you’re not together anymore. It was a bad breakup, probably the worst you’ve ever had and the biggest Jackson’s ever seen. The second this town hall is over, they’ll all be chatting amongst themselves, analyzing your behavior like it’s any of their business.

And Joel’s only giving them more to talk about. Seriously, why is he staring at you like that? If you can keep your eyes to yourself for an hour, surely he can at least pretend to be listening to what Maria’s saying, even though it’s boring as hell and doesn’t apply to either of you in the slightest. The winter dance next week really isn't your thing, no offense to her, but at least you're trying to look interested.

You shoot him a quick glare across the room, and he rolls his eyes, finally shifting his focus elsewhere. Apparently, that little interaction is all it takes to stir up the gossip mill because you can already hear a few of the worst offenders whispering to each other.

Fucking vultures. You’re pretty sure half of them are trying to make a move on Joel now that you’re over. Too bad he’s still busy spending his nights buried inside you.

The meeting ends pretty quickly after that, and everyone gets up from their seats, some staying to help put away folding chairs and others loitering around before they head to dinner. Somehow, Joel ends up next to you as you’re walking out, probably on purpose, and you take the opportunity to tell him off.

“Way to be fucking obvious, asshole,” you mumble, hoping no one else can hear you. “Did you have to stare at me like that? You made it seem like I spat in your fucking coffee this morning.”

He scoffs loudly, and you elbow him in the side, throwing him a warning glance. He’s acting like he wants everyone to know what you’re trying so hard to hide and it’s really starting to piss you off.

“Wasn’t lookin’ at you any sorta way, darlin’. You’re the one makin’ a fuss and gettin’ everyone’s attention,” he smirks. It’s not even fair how good he looks when he does that.

You feel a strong urge to slap it off his face, but that’s not really an option right now. An annoyingly intrusive thought tells you to save it for later when you’re alone, but you push it to the back of your mind. He’d probably enjoy that, anyways.

You quirk an eyebrow as subtly as you can. “…Are you kidding me? I wasn’t the one glaring at you the entire meeting.”

He looks around pointedly. “Ya think you’re not makin' it worse right now?”

You pause to take in your surroundings, and he’s right. You’re making a scene unnecessarily when you could’ve just ignored him and gone home like you’d planned. This is exactly why everyone thinks the breakup was your fault. Why they all think you're the villain in his story.

Joel knows just how to bring out the worst in you and you hate it. It’s one of the reasons you broke up in the first place. He pretends like everything’s fine and nothing’s ever his fault, and you’re constantly tricked into proving him right. But today he’s being purposely antagonistic and you can’t tell why.

“Oh, fuck you, Joel,” you grit through your teeth. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

He doesn’t.

Not even a few hours later, he’s at your back door—like always, so no one sees him come and go—eyeing you a little wildly. Hungrily. And suddenly, it all makes sense.

He's horny. Probably has been all day, judging by his behavior earlier. He doesn’t say anything, just lurches forward to kiss you, to get his hands on you, but your arms shoot out to stop him.

“Uhh, what are you doing? Pretty sure I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”

He’s already panting as if he ran all the way here, but the tent in his pants tells you otherwise. His heart is racing under your palms, and while you haven’t forgotten how furious you still are, the fact that he’s this desperate for you makes you want to.

"Yeah, but ya didn't mean it. Ya never mean it,” he says like he knows you so well. You hate that he does, but the last thing you’re going to do is admit it.

“Why the fuck would I say it if I didn't?" you scoff.

"'Cus it's more fun that way," he leans in again, but you jerk your head back. Is he serious? It’s not like you normally have a nice little chat before you fuck, but he usually has more patience than this.

“Joel, stop. Are you trying to get us caught?” you eye him incredulously. It’s dark out and, yeah, you’re not having this conversation on the porch where anyone can see you, but other people’s windows still face your yard. He’s acting ridiculous.

"Maybe I wanna get caught,” he replies smugly, crowding you against the door. “Maybe I want everyone to know who ya belong to.”

His eyes are unreadable, and you’re caught between shock and intense curiosity. But then, that familiar feeling of fury returns, and you allow that to win out. You reach behind you for the doorknob, twisting it open to back inside.

“No. Nope, that’s not happening today,” you say with finality, yanking him by the collar into the house. You shove his back against the door, slamming it shut, and your grip tightens on his shirt. He’s smirking again, and it somehow looks even better on his face now than it did earlier.

“There’s my girl,” he breathes out, his hands finding your waist to pull you closer. It sends an unwitting wave of heat through you, a gasp escaping your lips before you can stop it. Fuck. He hasn’t called you that since before the breakup. Because it hasn’t been true since then, or at least that’s what you tell yourself.

“Only in here. Right, Joel?” He nods his head slowly, but his eyes betray him. He doesn’t believe that for one second.

“Sure, darlin’. Whatever you say.”

And, for now, that’s enough for you. You crash your lips into his hard enough to bruise and he groans into your mouth, rocking his hips into your belly so you can feel him straining in his jeans. It’s a little dizzying knowing just how much he wants you. How much he always wants you.

Flipping your positions to lead him backward, you reach down to unbutton his pants, your lips still moving languidly against his. Your fingertips purposely skim his bulge as you tug down his zipper, and he bucks into your hand, something soft and needy rumbling out of his chest.

More layers of clothing are stripped off and thrown haphazardly on the floor, leaving a trail from the kitchen to the living room, until the backs of his legs bump into the couch. All that's left now are his boxers, your underwear, and your bra. You make quick work of the latter yourself, dropping it to the floor, and then kick off your underwear, smirking at the look of sheer yearning on his face.

He reaches out to touch you, fingertips only managing to graze the side of your breast before you slap his hand away. He's not allowed to touch you until the playing field is even and he's as bare as you are. He already knows that.

His eyes are so dark, pupils dilated until that gentle brown has almost completely disappeared, and the way he's looking at you is reminiscent of a different time. You ignore it, focusing on all of the things you know he's about to do to your body instead. It'll help you forget whatever you just recognized in his gaze for a little while.

You tug on the waistband of his boxers, letting them snap back into his hips.

"Off," you tell him simply, giving him enough time to pull them down before you shove him onto the cushions. You climb into his lap, hands settling on his shoulders as you lower yourself down to drag your wet folds across his cock.

He hisses a breath through his teeth, his fingers digging into your hips to guide you, and you let him slick himself up against your pussy. He's so hard below you, looking painfully and almost angrily red at the tip. You sigh at the repeated friction on your clit and he twitches at the sound, dribbling precum that immediately mixes with your wetness.

"Need to be inside you. Now," he moans breathily, burying his face between your tits. He turns his head slightly to nip at the sensitive skin, and you tremble, trailing a hand up the side of his neck to bury in his soft curls. "You ready for me, darlin'?"

You nod quickly, chest heaving as you lift enough to reach down and wrap your fingers around him. Pumping him a few times, you drag the tip between your folds before lining him up with your entrance. He pants damply into your chest, more precum leaking out in anticipation.

And then you're dropping onto him, crying out loudly as you impale yourself on his cock. His hips shoot up off the couch, forcing himself deeper into your cunt, and he lets out a pained whoosh of air, adjusting to you as much as you are to him.

"Shit, that's—," he chokes out a moan as you start to move, "—tight. Fuckin' grippin' me, Christ."

You purposely squeeze him a little harder, exhaling sharply out your nose when his nails bite into your skin.

"Yeah, because you barely fucking fit," you tease breathily.

But it's more than that. You mold around him like you were made to take it, soft sighs leaving your lips as you ride him slowly. He fits perfectly, something that took precious time, his cock finding a home inside you over and over, reshaping your walls in his image. The lock to his key.

You bury that thought, too—with every swivel of your hips, every brush of your clit against his skin. He latches onto your breast, sucking a nipple into his mouth as you continue to work him.

His eyes flutter shut, hands beginning to guide you up and down a little faster as he swirls searing circles around the nub until it peaks. He tugs at it sharply with his teeth and you gasp, a spear of heat lancing through your spine as you gush around him.

It all feels so…fuck, he knows exactly how you like it. And both of you can hear how much you like it, feel how sticky you're making his lap. The slide around his cock is wet and easy, and your pussy's gripping him even tighter, but you need…god, you need—

"Joel, fuck me—come on, fuck me," you whimper, tugging him away from your tits by his hair, and he responds immediately. Taking over, he establishes a frantic, steady rhythm, lifting you until just the tip is inside, and forcing you back down.

But it's still not hard or fast enough to satisfy the way he needs you right now. He wraps his arms fully around your waist to hold you in place, pistoning his hips into you, forcing increasingly louder haahs out of your chest.

"That's it, darlin', take it…take it," he groans, head tilting back so he can observe every subtle change of expression as he gives you exactly you asked for. He leans up to capture your lips, but it's not so much a kiss as an exchange of breath, soft and humid as you pant heavily into each other mouths.

It quiets you for a brief moment—potentially the best possible moment, because out of nowhere, you hear faint voices passing by outside. They're way too close for comfort, and you realize belatedly that you made a huge mistake earlier.

"W-wait, the curtains—shit, the curtains…ngh…are still open," you barely manage to gasp out. "Fuck, the windows are open."

It doesn't deter him in the slightest and, instead, spurs him on. "S'alright, it's dark in here. They can't see us," he rasps, keeping up his merciless pace.

Ducking his head down, he sucks hard on a sensitive spot—your favorite spot—right above your collarbone, and you whimper much louder than you mean to.

"They can still fucking hear us," you all but growl, feeling your thighs start to quake despite your growing panic.

"Good, let 'em," he laughs almost cruelly, and he sounds so possessive that it stuns you momentarily. He takes the opportunity to abruptly tug you off his lap and toss you onto your back across the cushions, fucking back into you before you can even process the shift in position.

Now that he's on top of you, pressing down with his entire weight, his pelvis grinds into your already swollen clit with every single thrust, and you can't help the wail that escapes your parted lips.

He doesn't hesitate to pull you close, hugging your head to his neck as if he's trying to block out the rest of the world. Everything and everyone, but you and him.

"Always so loud for me. C'mon, darlin', lemme hear ya," he murmurs into your hair, hips snapping into yours. "I know you can be louder than that. Scream for me."

And you do. There's nothing else you could've done anyway, not with how he's dragging against everything just right. Your hips desperately swivel into his, chasing that hot, slick friction every time he connects with you.

The slap-slap-slap of your skin on his becomes a deep, wet thock-thock-thock the closer you get, your pussy dripping pathetically down his cock, fluttering with your impending release. He can feel it, you know he can, because he's moaning loud enough to rival even you now. He ruts greedily into you, hitting so much deeper than before.

"Christ…you're gonna make me cum," he warns, voice wrecked, his face still buried in your hair. "Jesus fuckin'…" You keen into his neck, still desperately chasing your own high, but it's not enough.

"J-Joel, I need—," you try to tell him, but he cuts you off.

"—'m fuckin' cummin'. Fuck," he grunts roughly, tumbling over the edge before you get the chance. His hips slow even as he continues to punch his cock as deep as it'll go, flooding your pussy.

No. Shit—no, no, no. He can't slow down, not now. You're almost there—so fucking close. He has to keep going. Just a little bit longer.

"No, Joel, no," you sob, legs kicking up around his waist as you grind up into him needily, increasing your speed. "Please, harder…please, please. Keep going for me—"

You feel rather than hear the groan rumble in his chest as he resumes his previous, unforgiving pace, ramming into you almost painfully.

"'m gonna. Don't'chu fuckin' worry."

At that, your orgasm quickly crashes over you, and you don't even realize you're slapping a hand into his side, still begging him not to stop as you wring him dry.

It's deafening what erupts from your chest when you finally cum. There's no doubt anyone outside can hear everything. Every squelch, every squeal, even the couch creaking, being pushed to its absolute limit.

Joel's name leaves your lips breathily, repeatedly like a prayer. You're shaking like a leaf underneath him, and he pulls back to brush your hair out of your face so he can kiss you, tender and open-mouthed.

This, too, feels gut-wrenchingly familiar but, for some reason, you don't want it to stop. Right now, you don't want to forget how it makes you feel.

He pulls out slowly, shoving two thick fingers inside you before your pussy can leak your combined releases all over the couch, and the sigh that escapes you sounds both content and despairing. He notices right away. Of course, he does.

Watching him leave you after nights like this hurts so much worse lately. Maybe it's nostalgia. Or maybe it's the unavoidable emotional connection you feel when he's inside you.

Even though months have passed since you decided you'd be better off without each other, something inexplicable keeps bringing you back together. It's not just the sex and you know it, no matter how much you choose to pretend otherwise.

He knows it, too. He tells you all the time—in the softness of his kiss, his desire to please you, and his eyes, still only ever focused on you.

And, now, in the possessiveness of his words and actions. Of his touch.

He gazes down at you knowingly, as if he can see every one of your troubled thoughts in the cloudiness of your eyes. He's always been annoyingly good at that.

"Y'know, I don't have to leave just yet," he murmurs, brushing his nose gently against your cheek. "Only in here, right? You're still mine as long as we're right here."

You let him wrap you up in his arms, nodding into his warm, beautifully scar-riddled chest.

"I'm yours."

thanks for reading! 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller

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haithhegimp · 27 days ago

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batfamily headcanons please 🤲

ooohh i don't think i have like especially unique or cool headcanons but im happy to share them! thank you so so much for asking!!!! most of my headcanons are inconsistent/change based on what fits for the story im writing/art im making but here are some of my common ones!!

Bruce

When I feel like writing/thinking about Good Dad Bruce:

autistic as Fuck. his special interest is crime fighting.

bisexual but thought that everybody was until he started crafting personas to fit social norms and was like "Huh"

(part headcanon, part character analysis, and lmk if you want a rant about this) uses batman as a form of grieving and part of the reason he continues being batman is a fear of losing his grief

When I feel like writing/thinking about Bad Dad Bruce:

genuinely thinks that hitting his kids is fine

narcissist

control issues

Alfred

his waffles are bad on purpose, he gives them to the batfam when they have pissed him off

used to accidentally fuck bruce up when he was starting out as batman because alfred is used to being a field medic and having to rush his work

(and when i feel like writing bad guardian alfred) neglectful/abuse enabler

Dick

he CAN cook and he DOES cook, he just sometimes... forgets to get everything he needs and would rather eat instant shit to save time

travels regularly because he never grew out of that from circus life

does handstands when he needs to think about something really hard

size kink (kori)

learned how to whistle like an actual robin for funsies

was NOT a good kid in school but very much acted like it and had amazing grades so teachers couldn't blame him when he fucked shit up

needs to have some kind of white noise/background noise to fall asleep

???? sexuality where everyone thinks he's bisexual and he'll get with whoever he likes but also has absolutely no clue what to call himself

tim and damian are his favourite siblings

most acrobatic in the family (obviously)

Babs

control freak (affectionate <3)

coffee addict but for a very specific Kind of coffee and gets offended when others make jokes about her liking the wrong kind

autistic as FUCK. her special interest when she was younger was batman. not sure what it is now though.

bisexual

weirdo who doesn't move at all in her sleep. like she'll go to bed lying down unreasonably straight and wake up in the exact same position

smartest in the family (bruce is a close second though) (and obviously best with tech but thats not a competition in the slightest)

Jason

part afro-brazillian from willis' side

loves all of his parents :(

no all-caste (im so sorry i think theyre very cool but i like jason more without it)

wasn't in the theatre club but wanted SO badly to be

sucked at history but was an academic angel in everything else

food insecurity and hoarding tendencies

amazing at cooking

likes learning languages for fun

insecure as hell in general

??? sexuality where everyone thinks hes straight and/or ace but he's so down bad for literally anyone who is remotely hot and nice to him

music taste can Never stay the same but its always things that are super intense in one way or another. whether that's emotions or energy or production, it just has to be intense in some way.

neat freak about his personal spaces

best brawler in the family (and best shot but thats less of a competition)

Cass

(after she's learned how to talk) likes going nonverbal when one of the batfamily pisses her off and accuses them of ableism (lightheartedly) whenever they try to get her to talk to them

has fun trying new foods. she likes new foods

tim and duke are her favourite siblings

when missions are easy and she knows no one will get hurt, she likes doing things in unnecessarily cool and flashy ways to make the others jealous (they are Not as good as her)

the best physical fighter in the family

genuinely doesnt realise how fucked up she is half of the time

loves all of her parents :(

gay. homosexual. lesbian. the most gay ever. women lover Ever. you will not find a single girl more down bad for girls than cass. (also vaguely on the ace spectrum)

Steph

secretly/unknowingly an academic whiz but has adhd and dyslexia and/so the school system fucked her over

genuinely doesnt realise how fucked up she is most of the time. likes to say that shes the "normal (and funny) one" and the rest of the batfam will side eye her and her trauma so hard

the best prankster Ever. no one can beat her.

#1 bruce hater (jason is a very close second)

jack of all trades (and second best brawler. if she had jason's size then they'd be equal)

bisexual but falls so hard for whoever she's crushing on that she goes through phases of thinking "maybe i am actually straight/gay"

really not consistent but sometimes i like headcanoning her as a trans girl

guilty hatred for blues clues. as in she's seen clips and people talking about the show, and she thinks that it seems nice, but she absolutely refuses to watch a single episode or interact with it. she doesn't like it but feels bad about not liking it.

Tim

sometimes people mistake him for having narcolepsy

part vietnamese

listens to nightcore and vocaloid (kaito is his fav)

dick is his favourite sibling

disaster bisexual in every meaning of the phrase imaginable

surprisingly good at cooking (he likes doing it for relaxation)

has like 15 different puzzle/brain-teaser games on his phone and is on level like 5000 on all of them

best at detective work in the family

Duke

i actually know so little about him its a crime. so i barely have any headcanons :(( i am learning slowly!!!!!! but yeah these hc's are probably really ooc

cass is his favourite sibling

hates being the only one on the dayshift

he and babs are child genius buddies

has the most batshit (ba dum tss) insane ideas that he spouts out of absolutely nowhere

??? sexuality in the way that he's only dated girls so far but thinks gender can fucking die in a ditch

Damian

wonder pets enjoyer and would die before admitting it

literally looks in the dictionary to find new things to say

absolutely no one knows how and where he picked up a slight british accent, not even himself

gets accidentally rich off of commissions when he started doing them for fun

he is That Kid you see worked on shit in movies as a cameo artist and youre like "HOLY FUCK A TEEN MADE THAT????"

has watched all of the lion king tv shows and has Strong Opinions about them

horrible insomnia/sleep deprivation that absolutely no one notices until he starts stumbling and wobbling and the fam is like "damian when the fuck was the last time you slept in more than 1 hour bursts"

anime enjoyer

young and still figuring shit out but like thinks he might be demiro aspec

hope this was interesting if you read the whole way through, lmk what your own headcanons are!!! and have a wonderful day anon <3

#dc #dc comics #batfam #batfam headcanons #batfamily #batfamily headcanons #hai rambles

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darknesscreepin · 8 months ago

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haku shota | h.st

warnings: perv!shota, breeding kink, cumming in pants, little bit of exhibitionism.

perv!shota who has been obsessed with you since you let him borrow a pencil in class one day. turning around to hand him the utensil with a kind smile on your face, your hand accidentally grazing his in the process. he immediately was enraptured by your every move.

perv!shota who was so happy that he sat behind you because the smell of your perfume would waft directly in his direction— “thank god for the air conditioning.” he would think to himself as he inhaled your air. he would purposely make his way to class faster so he could smell your scent when you sat down. it was most prominent then.

perv!shota who made it his goal to befriend you. you were a little wary of him at first— i mean the kid had no friends. he was always making weird, unintelligible noises that made people look at him sideways, but with time you found his quirks adorable. the little alien language he sometimes communicated in, always pulled a laugh from you and shota’s heart would race. sometimes he would purposely exaggerate the things he did just to hear you giggle.

perv!shota that made sure to stay near you during your shared graduation party. you had suggested the idea after hearing he was going to play games after the big day. “come on sho, you can’t spend all day playing minecraft! let’s just merge the day for us, it’s fine i swear. it’ll be so fun!” all shota registered was us he was immediately on board. throughout the party he would follow you around, extremely close behind you that he’d have to stop himself from tripping. he just wanted to feel the curve of your ass graze against his clothed dick. you were so busy greeting everyone with a smile on your face, that you didn’t feel the sensation of the bleach haired boy just barely grinding against you.

perv!shota that invited you out for ice cream and you happily accepted. it was a sweltering day and you were finally free, it had been so long since you had seen your friend. did shota intentionally wait to call you to hang out on one of the hottest days of the week? yes. he knew you’d wear something more revealing to avoid being unnecessarily hot—and you did. a baby blue maxi skirt falling against your legs, and a black tank top that hugged your tits so nicely. how could shota not stare?

perv!shota who insisted on sitting outside in the blistering heat. “it’s such a nice day, y/n, c’mon!” you reluctantly agreed and the two of you made your way to a table. shota would offer you a taste of his ice cream in a cup. the spoon making it’s way into your mouth made shota breathe heavier. he hurriedly took the utensil from you, taking another bite so he could have your leftover saliva from the spoon is his mouth. you did the friendly thing and also motioned your ice cream cone towards the boy. he felt his cock twitch in his pants. holding the cold treat to his mouth, he took a few meekish licks and handed it back to you. he also made sure to film a video of you licking the rapidly melting ice cream from your arm, because it was “so funny.” little did you know he’d cum untouched to the video that night, imagining your arm was his cock and you were licking cum from it.

perv!shota who would regularly find himself on your insta, palming himself through his boxers. he was currently looking at an innocent photo of you clinking your glass with a friend’s. to shota it was so much more. his favorite trait of yours, your breasts, were perfectly exposed in the pastel yellow sundress you wore. he wanted to have your hard nipples in front of him, and wrap his pretty pink lips around your huge tits. the thought made the sick boy slide his hand under his briefs and firmly grip his leaking dick. so much precum dripping from his mushroom head. the image of your lips being smeared in the substance oftentimes made it’s way into shota’s head, you wearing it like a lipgloss. he slicked his length with the man made lube and he barely lasted a minute. cum leaking through his boxers, only getting in five proper strokes.

perv!shota who watched too much hentai. he had adapted such vulgar kinks from the porn. one of his favorite things was imagining breeding your cunt. filling you up with so much of his cum—he had so much of it to give, and he only wanted to share it with you. trying his best to place your face in his mind as he watched cum leak from an animated character’s pussy. oh how he wished he could do those things with you.

perv!shota who would rut against his pillow and loudly moan, not a care in the world. his room smelled just like you and he was getting high off the smell. last time he visited your house, he made sure to snatch one of your perfumes. spritzing it around his room before he straddled the cotton filled pillow. his cock would just leak and he wondered if you would let him cum or not. wondered if you’d stop being his friend if you ever found out how much of a slut he was for you. you’d probably look at him in so much disgust, that only turned him on more, leading to his orgasm. “sorry y/n.” he whispers as he slowly continued to grind his hips, riding out his high.

perv!shota who was such a pervert for you, couldn’t help but want to be your boyfriend. he knew you would never want to be associated with him if you ever knew what he was really like.

#sub!idol #sub!p1harmony #p1harmony #sub!soul #haku shota #sub!hakushota #kpop smut #soul p1harmony #kpop #sub!kpop #ithinkshotaisahugepervngl

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brookstolemybrand · 30 days ago

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Something I appreciate about Luffy and Vivi's moment on Drum Island when Vivi calls him out is that Luffy immediately gets it AND it makes sense that he does. I think he saw some of Shanks in Vivi in that moment, a different flavour of the same thing: pride doesn't matter, protecting your friends does. Don't escalate a situation unnecessarily.

He needed to learn that lesson but he was also already primed to learn it. This is why chapter 1 is so so so important.

And I really appreciate One Piece for not insisting on forcing the characters to go on a whole arc to learn a lesson even when it shouldn't be that hard for them. Luffy didn't need to have it demonstrated to him why Vivi was right, he's got enough wisdom of his own to understand, he just needed to be called out.

Of course this later backfires when Iceberg does it in Water Seven. Luffy tries to take it to heart but it goes very wrong. That's where we did need a whole arc, for both Luffy and Usopp, and frankly the whole crew as a whole. (I have complicated feelings about the conclusions but that's maybe just a me thing, and it still works very well in the story)

There are not that many moments of character growth for Luffy in One Piece, and even the stuff that's there is subtle (and I think that's a GOOD thing, for the record, Luffy's purpose in the narrative isn't primarily about his growth but the change he inspires in others) but when he has them they're so well done and hit so hard. Even the smaller moments like the one with Vivi.

I'm firmly of the opinion that Luffy actually didn't need to learn that much, he just needed experience. He's a bit of a dumbass, but he understands the important things, he has his priorities in order, and that genuinely makes him wise beyond his years.

Even in Water Seven I would argue that a lot of the problem stemmed from Luffy struggling to handle the pressure and the distress he was feeling. He decided to act in a very un-Luffy-like way (hiding his feelings) to try to cope with the stress, and it didn't go well. He was trying to be more mature and went about it the wrong way. He needed to find a more Luffy-ish way to be mature, and he did.

This got a bit rambly but I hope my points came across

#monkey d luffy #nefertari vivi

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k-hotchoisan · 2 years ago

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hii just wanted to say i love your writing and youre sooo good at describing stuff 😭😭

could u do a yunho oneshot based on or inspired by the song under the influence by chris brown? 🫠🫠🫠

Of course princess! THANK YOU FOR BEING SO SWEET iM BLUSHING \(//∇//)\ + requesting this lil prompt hohoho 😮‍��🌶️❤️

Also that’s a rEALLY good song for Yunho 😏😏

Enjoy ✨

Synopsis: where Yunho realises he doesn’t need tussin to get high when he can get high off fucking you.

Word count: 2.1K

Genre/Warnings: fuck buddies but feelings are there just in denial, Drabble, one shot, smut, pwp, sexual brain rot, !mentioned drug use for medical purposes (please DO NOT take cough syrups unnecessarily + keeping his dose AS MINIMAL as possible), riding, praise kink, yunho’s big fucking cock, multiple orgasms, cream pies, squirting, you and Yunho are so fucking whipped for each other actually.

The world around Yunho spins as he feels pretty fucked and heavy from the tussin. He intended to take molly after that to prepare for the party, but the codeine fucking hits him, and it was only slight dose above the usual 10ml he takes for his coughs, not that he wanted to, so he decides to forgo the other drugs for another party or something. He felt pretty fucking high, but at least his irritating burning throat is suppressed.

He doesn’t want to let it override his consciousness—not yet, especially not when he sees your silhouette walking over to him, and when you come into view, you were just in his oversized tank, your legs bare, fresh out of his shower.

Yunho’s breaths grow heavier, as the only thing swimming through his mind was wanting to fuck you into whatever the nearest furniture was. His cock twitches underneath his sweats just thinking about it.

His heart races, but he’s not sure if it’s because of the syrup or because you’re just there—just drying your hair with one of his towels he lent you—he watches as drops of water falls from the tips of your fringe right onto your collarbone, as it slides down right into the dip of your cleavage. This just kills whatever Yunho was trying to rationale in his head as he swallows hard. He knows he’s fucking whipped for you, he just doesn’t want to fucking admit it.

You plop beside him as you leave the towel on a back of a chair. You move forward to pick up the remote control to flip through the channels, but Yunho stops you. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but once your eyes meet his, his eyes looks pretty glazed.

“Yunho, are you crying?” You ask, still confused at first until your gaze glances at the coffee table, noticing the bottle of tussin on the coffee table.

There we go.

By the time you realigned your focus on him, Yunho is just staring right at your cleavage, like the fucking pervert he is.

“Your cough acting up again?” You ask again, since he doesn’t reply, but this time he responds, nodding slowly with his eyes shut.

“Do you need lozenges?” You offer, ready to dig through his apartment cabinets because you know he has them there, somewhere.

“I need to fuck you”, he replies, his eyes just tunnelling to you. You blink at him in disbelief before a smile cracks your face.

“Do you?” You tease.

He nods frantically. Your eyes lower to his crotch, and shit, it was stained, and there was definitely his cock just pressing so painfully against the fabric. And it doesn’t make your case any better.

His hands travel to your waist as he pulls you over to straddle his lap. You don’t want to let him know your panties were starting to soak through but the moment you attempted to avoid sitting anywhere his crotch, he already knows, because he pulls you in, and makes sure his clothed dick is sitting right below your cunt.

His hands snake to the back of your head as he pulls you in for a sloppy, deep kiss. You taste the sickeningly sweet favour of the cough syrup but the way he’s groaning in your mouth, desperate for your taste, only excites you even more. It‘s the only thing he craves.

Fuck buddies, yeah right. It was definitely developing more than that. At first it was just all fun and games, and as the both of begin to meet more often, it became a unanimous and unspoken decision to be exclusive fuck buddies, because it seemed that no one else was as compatible as the both of you were for each other.

His fingers find your nipples under the loose tank top and it almost sends him in a frenzy. He loves how your nipples are hardening instantaneously under his touch and your soft moans are just melody to his ears.

He can’t wait because it’s getting too painful for him, especially when he’s under the influence. He pushes you aside for a moment to pull off his sweats, and as you cock your eyebrow in surprise when you realise he wasn’t wearing underwear. The hem of his sweats brush against his hard and leaking cock, and a whimper leaves his lips, as more precum oozes out from his tip. Holy shit, he’s really sensitive.

Your panties are swiftly removed by him when his attention turns to you. He doesn’t want to be rough with you, and he usually isn’t, but as he’s fighting against the high, it’s taking all of his strength not to be feral with you.

And you’re back straddling his lap, just wanting to tease him a little more, since you love seeing him in this state—he almost begging to fuck you, especially since both your bare sex are just brushing against each other.

“Y/n, please. Fuck. Let me fuck you, please”, he whimpers, stroking his cock with his long and pretty fingers against your leaking cunt.

You don’t reply, but your hands are flat on each sides his shoulder; as you lower yourself down onto his thick ass cock. You sigh as he buries himself into you, and your thighs tremble from how much his thick cock is stretching you out. Yunho, on the other hand, is barely keeping it together, because the moment his tip goes in, his sigh develops into a full blown, long drawn moan as more him penetrates into you.

“Ffffuckkkkk”, his octaves go up pitch, face nuzzling against your neck, nipping at your neck and shoulders. “Why the fuck do you always feel so fucking good, y/n?”

Your only response to him is another lift from your hips before slamming down—sending your mind into a spiral of pleasure as your eyes roll back. You catch your breath to peak at Yunho’s reaction, and boy, is he already fucked out of his mind at the second stroke, evident by the blush on his cheeks and the way he’s panting so hard, mixed with his whines and whimpers.

His hands are gripping onto your hips hard enough to leave light red imprints, that’s for sure. Everything for Yunho is enhanced, no thanks to mixture, so the pleasure he feels is probably up by ten notches at least.

You start rocking your hips, as Yunho’s dickgrinds against your tight walls, sending a fuckton of pleasing signals across your body, absolutely fucking euphoric, considering how much his cockhead is pressing so disgustingly good deep inside you, and how his cock is bulging a little from how big he is. Not only was he erect, he was high and erect, and it’s the first time you feel so fucking full of his cock, right up to the brim—that was how aroused this fucker was.

Yunho’s head falls back onto the back of couch, one of his hands gripping the back of your neck, and the other tightening against the sheer fabric of your top. He can’t help himself from doing it—bucking his hips up to meet yours, making you full on bounce on his cock, causing your whines to turn into screams within seconds.

“That’s it, keep doing that. Fuck. So fucking good”, he doesn’t realise that he’s doing it himself, which amuses you but your sanity is slowly being ripped away at every thrust he pushes into you.

“God, imagine if we filmed this, that would be the best fucking sex tape. I would cum, over, and over again just remembering how much your pussy is squeezing me out like this”, he suddenly says, and that goes directly to your pussy, which causes Yunho to moan at the unintentional action.

As much as he was so fucked over, it didn’t seem like he was going to cum any time soon. Was it the influence, the exhaustion? You aren’t very sure but that is the last thing that shifts to your mind, especially when Yunho is fucking you from below so desperately.

The knot in your stomach tugs as your orgasm builds at every time Yunho’s cockhead pushes against your g-spot. His eyes are now locked onto yours, and he knows you’re close just from the way you’re twitching around his length, like he always does. He licks a stripe up his thumb and trails it down to your clit as you adjust yourself on him, and he never breaks eye contact. If anything, there’s probably a hint of pride that flashes in his eyes—he knows every part of your body, as if it’s his, and sometimes that fucking scares you because the both of you were only but just fuck buddies, and that’s what you constantly reminded yourself.

He presses his thumb on your clit as he gently pushes you back, exposing the pornographic scene before him—his cock just sinking in and out of your sopping cunt. He rubs against your clit as his free hand snakes up to your hips to push you, and his breathing shallows every time he sees his cock emerge from your abused hole, before he pulls you back in and your cunt just swallowing his cock whole.

Don’t even get him started with the noise the sex was making.

And the more he stimulates your nub, the more you realised you were gonna do more than just cum, because the sensations were getting too much.

“Yunho”, you cry out, your arm clawing against his chest, as you attempt to stop him, lifting your hips. His glazed eyes stare at yours, and his hand is on your shoulders, forcing you to stay seated on his cock like a good girl. Tears are pooling at the corner of your eyes. Fuck. It’s building too rapidly. “Yunho, I-“

“I know. I know. Let it out baby”, he whispers into your ears as he raises his hips once more, fucking so deep into you, and ensuring you feel it all in your clit as well.

“Three.”

Your body begins to go slightly limp as the orgasm is about to hit a fever pitch.

“Two.”

And it fucking burns so fucking good throughout out your body.

“One.”

Your lower abdomen convulses as your orgasm takes you out, you are barely able lift your hips because he’s holding it down as you fucking squirt all over his lower abdomen, as your cunt convulses around his cock as well, and Yunho is fighting with every nerve in his body to keep his eyes open to watch you unwind right in front him— crying about how good it all feels. And that was the moment he realised he just really wants you all for himself.

You slowly come down from your high, the aftershocks of your orgasm still tingling in your cunt. Fuck. Did he really just count you down to your orgasm while he was high? You’ve never felt like this before, in any of the fuck sessions you had with him.

He still isn’t done, because he hasn’t cummed. But this time, he seems really close, especially after watching you squirt so like that, and that, yeah, he was fucking aroused from that, because his cock only stretches you out further.

“Did that feel good?” He asks, his hands cupping your cheek, wiping away the tear stains.

“Fuck. Since when did you learn to do this like that?” You ask back, finding the energy to still continue bouncing on his dick. Every stroke on top of him, you could see the scrunch in his eyebrows accompanied by a groan.

“I know your body like the back of my hand, so why wouldn’t I?” He responds, his hands now on your hips, pressing you down hard on his cock. “Fuck. I don’t think I can-“

Before he finishes his sentence, ropes of thick cum spill into your abused hole, and his voice ups a pitch as moans spill out of his mouth.

“So good. Feels so fucking good”, he cries out, twitching in you, his fingers turning white from how hard he’s gripping your thighs.

And it’s a fuckload of cum, for some reason, that it starts oozing out of your hole while he’s still in you. His whines fill the room as he bottoms out in you. You can’t help but brush his hair back, to get a better look at his face, as he comes down from his orgasmic high. He still looks pretty glazed out, but his gaze never leaves yours as he pants heavily.

And the next words that leave his mouth take you aback.

“Y/n. I like you. Fuck.”

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #smut #ateez fic #yunho smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho

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jadeazora · 1 year ago

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Manga Spinel! 🤩 (And the others are here too I guess)

Amethio saving Liko! (I know there's a bit of a double purpose since Terapagos is there too and he wants it, but I do like that he will act to protect others from being hurt unnecessarily.)

I loved their tag team. I'm really hoping that Amethio joins up, at least in the final season of the series like Zuko did, because seeing him fight alongside Friede and that they actually had some decent teamwork together was so fucking good 🤩

Sprigatito's evolution into Floragato and that shot of it making a final stand against Rayquaza goes so hard.

He may have been a bit "Oh I only care about the Black Rayquaza and Terapagos," but it's only a matter of time until he's a part of the RVT family, mark my words. 🤭

And that tease for next arc!

(More scans are here by the way.)

#pokemon horizons #pokeani #anipoke #trainer liko #trainer roy #professor friede #pokemon friede #pokemon amethio #pokemon explorers #shiny rayquaza

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adeaddogsdove · 7 months ago

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read a fic the other day about sam and dean spending that week after john dies at bobby’s, and the sweet rottie rumsfeld being involved which got me thinking how much i headcannon sam as a dog person. hope to god i did this image of sam justice.

It’s hot and the sun beats down unforgiving as ever, but Dean spends all day out working on Baby. It’s for the car of course, because he needs the car. But it’s also so he doesn’t have to face Sam.

The heat drowns out his thoughts, turns him into some zombie that’s only goal in life is to fix the car. It makes him sick, makes his head hurt if he thinks too hard about it. He probably wouldn’t feel as sick as he does if he let Sam close enough to remind him to drink enough water.

His tan lines are starting to show from wearing an old mildewy white tank top, one that he’d found in the corner of Bobby’s laundry room. His jeans have soaked with sweat, and then dried, so they’re sticky and cool as they cling to his legs. Usually, he wouldn’t be this unclean but there’s a drought so Bobby’s been unnecessarily anxious about laundry.

It’s been four days — maybe three, maybe even five. Dean doesn’t know, the heat makes time pass in weird ways. He finds himself going out under the car early in the morning; and his body carrying him back to the house for dinner just before the sun sets. Counting days hasn’t exactly been his top priority.

Usually, the sound of Sam playing with Rumsfeld lulls him into that state. The door clinks open from across the yard, just barely audible over the sound of Dean’s music. Rumsfeld will bark at Sam once, and Sam will usually laugh. The ball gets thrown, sometimes hitting one of the cars in the yard — which usually makes Dean’s awareness flicker with urge to tease Sam for having bad aim.

But Rumsfeld clambers through the dead cars to get the ball every time, so Dean absentmindedly wonders if Sam does it on purpose just to make her work for it.

Sam will play with her like that for a while, with the occasional pause to walk down the yard in search of Dean. Which Dean knows Sam thinks he doesn’t notice. He does, he just choses to ignore or forget it most times.

She’ll lap at a bowl of water after the sound of her steps across the creaking porch, and Sam will praise her for it before going in for lunch.

Dean went in for lunch the first day they were here because Bobby was still home. Dean’s sure that the tension between the brothers is what chased him away on a ‘meet-up’ with some other hunters.

After Sam finishes lunch he either organizes shit in Bobby’s living room (Dean doesn’t know how he knows this, but the information sits in his memory like its been branded there. He gathers he’s maybe spent time looking in the window of the house from against Baby) or, Sam finds a book and comes back outside despite the raging heat.

Sam will stay there, silently, until Dean comes inside before sundown. Somehow, Sam always knows to go in just a few minutes before Dean wraps up. And then they eat dinner in silence until one goes upstairs to the guest room they used to sleep in as kids, and the other promptly takes their turn on the couch.

Today, Dean hasn’t heard the door to the house open once. Rumsfeld’s getting impatient, Dean could hear her pacing and whining.

It’s not all that abnormal, Sammy’s a big boy. He’s allowed to have freedom to do whatever he wants. But it has Dean on edge, enough to break through the barrier of his fever-dreamed haze.

He could easily barge in the house and complain about Rumsfeld whining for being the reason of asking why Sam’s not played fetch with her — to inadvertently ask what’s wrong with him, why he broke routine.

But that would take effort, and lead to a real conversation that Dean doesn’t think he’s ready for. Because’s he’s fine, he absolutely is, talking about it would only disrupt his fine state.

So he doesn’t go inside to check on Sam, he goes back under Baby and continues his work, hoping for the sun-haze to take over his brain so he stops thinking again.

It’s probably hours later when he breaks through it again, having just finished the task he set out on early that morning. He doesn’t have Sam to gage what time it is, so he doesn’t know if it’s after lunch or not.

The yard seems to be void of the sound of Rumsfeld, which makes him uneasy because the sound of her collar is always clinking with the rhythm of her pants.

Dehydration plagues his mouth, and makes him dizzy when he clears his throat. He rolls the creeper out from under Baby, and forces himself to stand. It makes his head pound unforgivingly.

Dean wipes his hand with a rag, searching the yard for Rumsfeld — who’s nowhere to be found.

He clears his throat again — immediately regretting it, then sets the rag down on the wood bench and forces himself to walk up to the house.

Minus the absolute crave for water, his stomach rumbles in hunger, angry at him for having skipped so many lunches.

He forces himself up the old creaky steps, and draws the screen door open before pushing his unwilling body into the slightly cooler house.

Dean doesn’t hear signs of Sam upon immediate entry, and he neglects to look for him until he gets to the fridge and manages a bottle of water.

The fridge feels only a few degrees cooler than the air in the house, but the water bottle he picks up cools his hand down the rest of his body like frost spreading on a late October night. He shivers in his place.

The action of unscrewing the cap and bringing the bottle to his mouth happens on instinct, and gulping down the cool liquid brings life back into his body. He groans softly, chugging the bottle down — minus a few drops that escape from his mouth and down his chin.

He pops off it with a desperate breath, crunching up the bottle and throwing it into the open paper bag on the floor next to the trash can.

Sam’s name sits heavy in the back of his throat, nearly having made it’s way out when he turns. His breath is ripped from his chest, forcing the name to die in his throat.

Sam’s asleep on the couch, Rumsfeld promptly atop him like it’s where she’s meant to be. She’s not even allowed in the house unless she’s being fed.

Sam’s limbs are too long to fit on the ugly brown couch, one of his legs is propped against an arm, and the other moulds his neck to mimic a pillow. His other leg hangs off the couch, dangles just above the surface of the old wood floors just like one of his arms.

It can’t be a restful sleep, Dean wouldn’t be comfortable sleeping like that — but Sam looks more peaceful than he’s been since he was at Stanford. The warm — clearly afternoon — sun beams in through the louvered shades, caressing his soft features just perfectly.

He’s not angry, or upset, or even happy — he’s just there. Peaceful, relaxed. Perfect. He’s perfect.

Rumsfeld covers him like a ratty blanket, drooling against one of Sam’s stupid geek shirts that he loves so much. The arm not dangling off the couch clutches her fur, just above her collar where there must be a sweet spot that she likes to be pet.

The image of Sam calling her up onto the couch, getting himself comfortable, and petting her till they both dozed fills Dean’s chest with a kind of warmth he hasn’t felt since Sammy was just a snaggletoothed sticky mess that looked up to him like Dean was the fuckin’ sun.

In this moment, Sam looks like more than just the sun. He’s fucking divine — angelic. The sun clings to his skin and his hair that looks two shades lighter — because they’re one. It finds every bit of open skin — the spot where his shirt’s been hiked up and his hip shows, his arms and neck — all scattered with gleams of pure warmth and light.

Dean doesn’t consider himself religious, threw the idea of anything but horrible away when his mom had died the way she did after reminding him night after night that their family was blessed. But Sam’s restful state, his soft and mesmerizing features almost has him on his knees.

Rumsfeld doesn’t wake, doesn’t even seem to graze the surface of a stir — she lets Dean stare. Lets him stand there and gape at the two of them.

Sam’s breathing is soft — just like Dean knows his voice would be if he took the few steps forward to wake him.

He is soft. He is delicate. He is the boy that Dean fell in love with at the age of innocent. He is nothing but perfect; even when he strays from his usual self in times of anxiety and trouble. He is everything that Dean would kill for and die for, just from a silent pleading look — and from so much less. He is Dean’s everything.

Dean doesn’t know how long he stands there, doesn’t know how long he watches Sam and Rumsfeld just breathe in their sleep, but he does until his knees and his hips ache, and until the sun shining in is turning a dark orange. He does until Sam stirs awake, softly turning in his spot to rub his eyes open just like he did when he was 10 years younger.

Dean melts at the soft mewl he lets out, and melts even further at the less soft groan when Rumsfeld turns to lay fully on her side atop him.

He can’t find it in him to move from his place, even though he suddenly feels guilty for watching Sam as long as he did.

Sam huffs at the rottie, scratching behind her ears before turning — he looks surprised to see Dean at first, his eyes flickering back and forth between him and the dog before he softens and shifts to sit up as much as he can under Rumsfeld’s weight.

“Dean,” he says gently — and it’s exactly the way Dean knew he’d sound when he woke.

“Sammy,” Dean says back — exasperated to finally speak his brother’s name, but just as supple as Sam had.

He has the urge to whisper it again, to say his brother’s name over and over like a prayer because Sammy is something that deserves to be worshipped.

He doesn’t. In fact, he stands there, unsure of what to do with himself; go up to Sam, and touch his face — whisper his name like a desperate plea, kiss him softly — or leave, let the moment be remembered and burned into Dean’s brain as how gorgeous his little brother is, with no mistake to taint it.

Sam seems to not know either, so they stay there in silence. Dean’s legs aching and screaming at him to just sit down for a minute, Sam’s messy hair and face painted with the fading sun — and Rumsfeld dozing away.

For a second, the flashes of Dean on his knees in front of that very couch feels so real he thinks he might actually be there, that he might’ve actually manned up and done what he craves so badly to do.

But then the fridge ticks, and Sam clears his throat, and Rumsfeld jolts awake, suddenly starved for her dinner.

They don’t part unkindly — Sam tears his eyes from Dean’s, and the moment ends as harmoniously as it could’ve.

Dean regrets not having gotten on his knees for his brother the moment they sit down at the uneven table for a dinner they’ve had for the last several nights.

He regrets not showing Sam how badly he worships him.

He regrets it, He regrets it, He regrets it, He regrets it.

But he can’t bring himself to change it.

They eat in silence, maybe Sam having moved on from the moment just as much as Dean had — and Dean’s still sure he can feel the still air, and the cramp in his legs, and the hunger in his belly for more than just the food promised for dinner — but instead the heavenly being that is his little brother.

They don’t talk about it, but after dinner they gravitate to the couch together — where somehow Sam ends up leaned against Dean in the way he had when they were younger and only — still — had just each other.

They don’t talk about the way that Dean slowly snakes his hand over Sam’s body to find one of his, desperately seizing the palm that is so much softer than his. They don’t talk about the implication of it, or where it would lead if they managed to take the next step — they don’t talk about the trouble of what would happen if Bobby found them like this, with Rumsfeld at their feet in the house she’s not allowed in unless she’s being fed — and with their hands, hearts and bodies intertwined.

#i didnt know how to end this can you tell #dean who needs to worship his baby brother has my whole fucking heart #angelic sam #sam is dean’s sun #i know rumsfeld is probably a boy #and also probably dead #i dont care #sam is a dog person #dean is in love with sam #wincest #wincestie #samdean #sam x dean #weirdcest #weecest #spn #supernatural #religious imagery

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etherealily · 7 months ago

Text

ꜱᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴀɴᴅʏ ~ ꜰᴇʟɪx ᴄᴀᴛᴛᴏɴ

Felix Catton + fem! reader. SFW, but discretion advised, slightly dark, abuse.

My other Felix fics, if you have the time.

Part 1: Hard Candy Part 3 : Rock Candy

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : He's sorry, he's so very sorry. But will he say it?

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END OF SEMESTER

One thing about Felix is that he always got what he wanted.

It both enamored and infuriated you.

Even when the two of you weren't hooking up, both before and even - with much audacity - after, he got away with everything.

He smacked your ass whenever he saw you and everyone laughed it off, because imagine being Felix's certified girl, essentially. Who'd ever complain?

You reached your limit when he grabbed you when you were out with your friends, twirling you around in a gesture that could only be described as disgustingly, unnecessarily romantic, before kissing you.

Pushing him away, you glared and he chuckled, not even bothering enough to look at your face, but instead looking over your shoulder, at your friends, and chuckling with them.

Because of-bloody-course. Because you were obviously the one who had done something wrong right now.

"What the fuck, Felix?"

"What?", he laughed, breathily. "'S a dare, c'mon, relax."

"Yeah? Yeah? A DARE?"

"Well, dares are for kids. This was more of a bet. A challenge. Definitely more manly and dignified than a dare."

"Don't you have enough FUCKING money as it is?! Why'd you need to win this?"

"Hey, hey, relax-"

"NO! You can't keep FUCKING with me! You've been doing it since high school, and you can-"

"Okay, shh, shh.", he murmured, turning you around and placing his chin in the crook of your neck as he rubbed your almost-flailing arms that were itching to have a go at him, calming you down. "Hey, hey, listen. Listen. I got carried away. Okay? You know I tend to do that."

Oh, you knew way too fucking well what this rich cunt tended to do.

Ask the pens he never gave back in high school - not because he didn't have any of his own - but because you shouldn't have had such "ugly-looking ones" in the first place.

"Listen, listen, I'm- hey, stop struggling, okay? St- Y/N, don't piss me off, stop.", he whispered, soothingly kissing the side of your neck softly. "Everyone's watching, stop making a scene."

Says the bastard who kissed your neck in public not milliseconds ago.

"Yeah? You good?"

"Shut up, Felix."

He chuckled, slowly letting go of you. "Come to my dorm tonight."

Now, you chuckled. "Funny."

"I'm being serious."

"For what purpose?"

"Mum's sent a gift for us."

"If it's a fucking engagement ring or something, I swear-"

"If it's an engagement ring, I will kill myself, you don't have to kill me.", he assured.

"She doesn't want us together, does she?" You'd genuinely kill yourself if that were the case. Because what Elspeth Catton wants, Elspeth Catton gets.

"I hope not. So far, it seems like she's just glad you didn't lose your virginity to a 'troglodyte' or summat. Apparently it's common for girls who've just gone off to Uni to-"

"Yes, I know." You'd heard the horror stories, the warnings. 'You'll have a newfound sense of freedom. Don't abuse it. Don't fuck it away. Don't be a whore.'

And you'd ignored the warnings during your first party there.

And with the biggest fucking mistake there was.

Felix Catton.

THREE DAYS LATER

Look, it isn't often that your circles interact, but when they do, you and Felix attempt cordiality. No one, not even Felix Catton wants to be 'the bummer'.

And so, tonight - the weekend before Christmas and three days after he'd invited you over and you hadn't gone - twelve of you sat on a parapet wall (you and Felix at each end of the line, naturally).

"We should go streaking."

Unsurprisingly, it's Felix's suggestion.

"You should. We'll take a Polaroid."

"You know what we should do?", you suggested. "Skinny dipping."

A murmur of agreement and you knew you'd won it.

"Why not streaking? It's funnier."

"Skinny dipping is less likely to get us in trouble seeing as it's night and the lake's far away."

More hums of 'oh, yeah, good point' and 'we'll be naked either way'.

"It's the prude's way out."

"Just say y'can't swim, Catton.", you retorted, jumping off the wall with a soft grunt, the others following suit.

"I can, too, swim.", he replied, hopping down as well.

"Then just say y'can't handle wet things."

Raucuous laughter - that you didn't quite understand (it wasn't that funny) - but didn't dislike either ensued.

"I dunno, I'd say I handled you pretty well, didn't I, sweetheart?", he replied, twirling a strand of your hair, illuminated a burnt orange by the sombre streetlight perched above the two - well, twelve, but honestly, it didn't feel like it - of you.

"Alright. Fine.", you declared. "Hands up if you wanna go streaking 'cross campus."

A couple hands, not too many, good.

"Skinny dipping?"

Majority of hands. You shrugged, grinning triumphantly as you patted him on the cheek and shouldered past him.

****

You didn't know if it was the moonlight or the water or the weed or what, but Felix had never been more annoying.

Why he insisted he wouldn't skinny dip and ruined the night for everyone, you knew. He was just a cunt.

But why he insisted that you didn't, either, and made everyone beg you to stay on the bank so that he'd shut the fuck up, you didn't know.

Till the end, that is.

"What if one of them had copped a feel? I'm just lookin' out for yah. Like mates do.", he whispered as the night winded down, before ruffling your hair up.

Oh, oh, so this was a favour, according to him. Summat to be grateful for? FUCK Felix Catton.

"What the fuck?", you yelled, following him back to his dorm as he covered his ears with his little fingers comically. "No, seriously! Did I crush your ego that much?!"

"No, sweetheart, I just thin-"

"DON'T call me that!"

"I just think you shouldn't be out there wanting to get felt up by our entire friend group just because you're angry at me!", he screamed back, turning for a moment before he foraged around forcefully in his pockets for his dorm keys.

"WHY should everything in my life have to do with you?!"

"IT HAS SINCE HIGH SCHOOL AND IT WILL FOREVER!"

"THEN YOU'RE JUST BLOODY DELUDED!"

"YEAH? WELL YOU STILL FUCKING WANT ME, SO YOU CAN'T TALK LIKE YOU'VE GOT ANY SELF RESPECT!"

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN 'I STILL WANT YOU'? NO I FUCKING DON'T!"

"YEAH? WELL, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME TO MY DORM?!"

"TO YELL AT YOU!"

About five doors swung open. "IT'S THREE IN THE FUCKING MORNING, JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"

You and Felix continued glaring at each other. "Fuck you, mate."

"I'm not your mate, Y/N. Don't call me that."

"Yeah, you're not my mate. You're just a prick I had the misfortune of knowing for this long."

"And you're just a cunt I've had the misfortune of fucking for this long."

You scoffed. Average conversation with Felix.

"Get over yourself, Felix Catton, or you're going to have a real fucking hard time in the real world - that DOESN'T CATER TO YOU!"

You could feel him flipping you the bird behind you as you left. You just decided to fucking ignore it.

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That night, you woke up to a knock at the door.

Deja vu. Felix on his knees. Jesus.

"What?"

"Can we please talk?"

Talk meant fuck.

You frowned.

"I promise, I'll just talk."

He doesn't try kissing you this time.

Because this time, things were even more off.

This time, he was stone cold sober.

You rolled your eyes before rubbing them, letting him take your hand to stand up. He didn't need it, of course, but it made you feel better. More in control.

How pathetic that it was the smallest of things that you had to desperately cling on to for the smallest sliver of self respect.

"I didn't mean it. When I called you a cunt. I wasn't... I was angry."

"Yeah."

"I just don't understand why you're... why do you want to forget me so easily?"

"We're terrible together, Felix.'

"I don't want to be together, alright? I can't do relationships either. I just think that we... I mean, we know each other, which makes the sex so much better, right?"

Wrong.

It would've been funny to an outsider. This was something, again, that you were very sure of. Someone else would laugh at your inability to say something to him, laugh at the way he stood there, opposite you, playing with his rings as he took a long drag of his cigarette.

And him being Felix didn't help, either.

When you let him in, he sat there like it was his dorm.

Like it had just been you on your knees, and he'd begrudgingly, magnanimously let you in.

Essentially, this was everything you had not missed since Felix had graduated and left. It was brutal, honestly, to the rest of the school when he had graduated. Because what, oh, what would they do without Felix Catton? It also didn't help that, since you were family friends, you'd been constantly badgered about whether he'd grace the school with his presence during school events like plays and fundraising fairs.

That was genuinely laughable. Felix Catton is only charitable when he wants to be. That's not to say he's an opportunist, no, if you were being honest, the purity of his intentions were truly unmatched, but his intentions often had a way of making him look like an angel.

Kind little angelic rich boy. Connivingly kind little conveniently angelic rich boy.

You decided that the silence was a good opportunity to do something you hadn't done in a while (and something he'd probably never done ever) and reflect.

Reflect on why you and Felix had actually grown apart, not his skewed version and definitely not your biased explanation.

The answer, however, was vague.

Inseparable as kids.

Insufferable as adolescents.

Ineffable as lovers.

Incapable as people.

"He really was trying to cop a feel.", he sighed after the agonizing silence. "Logan. I saw it."

Right. And he also saw every single thought to ever go through Logan's head. Because being Felix Catton gives you both an immeasurable inheritance and impeccable judgement in friends, yeah?

"Well, thanks.", you replied, biting back the word 'mate'.

He sighed once more, shifting closer to you on the couch and now playing with your rings. "I'm just lookin' out for you, okay? I got your back. Just 'cause we stopped shagging doesn't mean all of our history is just gone, yeah?", he questioned earnestly, kissing your rings, your fingertips, your knuckles, and then finally, your wrist.

In theory, that makes total sense. You did used to be best friends. You did used to like each other, at some point.

But this was all, of course, theory, because nothing would ever make sense around Felix, not when he's so noxiously himself, his fragrance, his taste, the basking glow of his attention enveloping your senses until you could feel his aura so tangibly.

"Felix, I just feel like we made a huge mistake."

"What? Fucking? C'mon, it's Uni, and we're both adults, c'mon, this is absolutely ridiculous!", he whined, softly, with his brows raised high up in pleading. He held his cigarette in front of your lips and you inhaled. Because it's Felix. God, what a hypocrite you were.

"I have hated you for as long as I can remember-"

You did have a point. You were about to mention the fact that animosity contributes to lust - just like the first time you'd hooked up, how he'd been pissed at you- and that at some point, it will destroy and consume the two of you. But he didn't let you finish.

"Yeah, and you never let me forget. What did I even do to you?"

"You really don't remember?", you sighed. "You remember your friend Henry Falker?"

"Oh, yeah, Henry Fucker!", he giggled. "What about him?"

"Y'remember when you told him and his gang that if I wasn't a family friend, you'd 'shag the living daylights out of me'? Or, at the very least, whistle at me when I walked by?"

He nodded, slyly as he tapped your nose, as though you were being petulantly annoying. "Yeah, but that was a joke. And I didn't actually do it.", he replied defiantly.

"Yeah, well, he worshipped you."

He frowned at the silence. "He wasn't the one- he didn't cat-call you. Right? I told him it was a joke. I told him you were off-limits."

Off-limits?!

See, this was news. He'd been messing in your life without your knowledge for years, then? You'd actually got along with Henry, no matter what a Felix-sycophant he'd been, and before the cat-calling incident, you wouldn't have said no to a coffee.

"Clearly, we went to different high schools. Y'know, because you went to one where teenage boys keep promises about cat-calling."

He sighed, his forehead on your chest. "He's a prick."

"So are you."

The words felt overused and false, but they had to be said.

His intoxicating kisses began, and moved up the side of your breast up to your throat as he pushed your hands away and pulled your head closer.

"Felix." Your willpower should be applauded.

"If you call me 'mate', I will genuinely hit you."

You couldn't help the breathy laugh that erupted from you as he began gripping your jaw and kissing you as he gently rested your head back down onto the couch.

"No. Felix, stop." This was the thing about Felix. Once you've got his attention, it's difficult to keep an iron will to get it off of you. Because who in their right mind would want Felix's attention off of them?

You, evidently, since high school.

"Look, this is just friends helpin' each other out, alright?"

"Then why do you not like me calling you 'mate'?"

Silence.

"I just don't."

"Do you not remember why we stopped?", you asked, attempting to sit up.

"Summat about you 'being with someone else'."

"Do you not remember the ER?"

"Shh-shh-shh.", he murmured, shaking his head and undoing his belt. "C'mon. Seriously. You had your storm-out, now come back to normal."

Why he always conveniently brushed that under the carpet, you didn't know.

Did he think this was some temporary temper tantrum? Just you being kind of a bitch? Was he already sure you'd forgive him?

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?", you hissed, pushing him off. "Seriously! What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Relax, I'm just saying, you were pissed, and you let it out. Now you can come back to normal!"

"Normal? Normal, after you bloody got me admitted in the ER at three am? Normal?"

"That didn't bother you last week."

What bullshit. What utter fucking bullshit.

"Yeah? Well, the whole skinny dipping incident exacerbated it."

"Oh, stop with the whole woe-is-me thing, Y/N, it's getting old."

Honestly, he had a point. It was getting old to you, as well. But damn him for making you that way.

"Look, we agreed to stop. Respect that, Felix."

He rolled his eyes. "Why are you always such a CUNT? Is it 'cause you think you're better than everyone else?! OH, I was a virgin before college, I'm so fuckin' pure and angelic! OH, I've got all good scores in school, I'm so fuckin' AWESOME?! YOU'RE NOT, OKAY?"

Where the fuck did that come from?

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"IT MEANS THAT MAYBE YOU FUCKIN' DESERVED WHAT YOU GOT WHEN YOU GOT PUT INTO THE ER!"

Both of you froze. Felix had obviously meant it. You had obviously believed it.

For once, though, it wasn't you believing it just because it was Felix who said it. You believed it because even you'd been thinking that for a while.

"Get out."

"Fuck, no, can we- look, I admit, I'm an arse- I just promised I'd have your back and then I-"

"Get out."

"Please."

"FUCK YOU, FELIX, GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I SEND YOU TO THE ER!", you yelled, pointing aggressively at the door, taking his attention away from your stinging eyes.

He, instead of obeying you like a sane individual, began to move closer, his hands in front of him as though you were a wild beast he had to tame. "Y/N-"

"STOP! GET AWAY! DON- NO! Don't touch me! NO!", you cried, attempting to wriggle out of his arms, but also attempting to stay between them to relish the comfort they provided.

"Listen to me. Lis- Y/N, stop being a child. Just listen."

The word 'sorry' never left his mouth, but he'd somehow managed to convince you that it was all that he had been saying.

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It's not like this was an unfamiliar feeling.

Felix had a way of doing this. Making someone feel warm until he got bored. Thankfully, though, you seemed to do the opposite of bore him.

You were essentially his personal jester.

"Toy with you", the cocaine addict had said.

Like sour candy, the addiction was to the unpleasantness, the sour sting, the challenge of how long you could last on Felix's bullshit without flinching.

Well, the unpleasantness and this feeling that you had right now. Not love, of course, but something dangerously bordering at the edge of it.

This feeling, this not-love-feeling was hard to characterise, hard to describe. It was nostalgia brewed with mutual hatred with a tiny bit of affection.

Yeah. Suppose that's the closest one could get.

The not-love-feeling usually blossomed when you were... well, doing what you were doing right now.

Counting the number of flowers on your shirt - the one which hangs precociously on the edge of your desk chair, about five paces away from the bed, which is where Felix lay, and, right on his chest, you.

He wasn't awake.

You had been for a while.

"Either you've forgiven me, or last night was the best hate sex planet Earth has ever seen.", he muttered suddenly, singling out a thick strand of your hair and examining it meticulously.

You didn't reply, but just rolled off him. The ceiling seemed to mock you.

"You packed yet?"

"For what?"

"Saltburn. Our proper-proper reunion. Don't tell me you forgot."

Did your face look like you had been on top of your itinerary for the last couple days?

He shook his head, looking past your face to the window behind you. You could almost swear you could see the snow falling through through the reflection in his eye. "I could help you."

"No, it's okay, I'm not coming."

"Like hell you're not. You've been sent a fuckin' dress, okay? My mother sent you a dress plus jewellery - which you'd know if you showed up that day at my dorm - so you're not flakin' out of this."

"A dress for what?"

"The party."

You frowned, watching him sit up and use the same hands he'd had on you to reach over to the pockets of his jeans. "You're not seriously smoking without brushing your teeth."

"Good point. I'm using your toothbrush."

"Don't you dare."

"So let me smoke in unhygienic peace."

You grimaced, looking away and out of the window.

"Relax. Been up for a while. I got up, I brushed, washed my face, and then I just... I dunno. I came back to you. Back to bed."

He was up before you?

"You weren't sleeping?"

"Nah.", he replied, beckoning you closer with the hand that was holding the cig. You moved almost on autopilot. "You forgive me, yeah?", he asked, arm around your shoulder reaching far enough to playfully squeeze your neck. "I'll choke you non-sexily if you don't, y'know? Or I'll leave you to the likes of Logan or Daniel-the-handshaker."

You laughed out loud at that, and he rewarded you with his dimpled grin. "C'mon, mate, let's get you packed."

Honestly? Fuck Felix Catton. And then fuck Felix Catton.

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