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clare-875 · 2 days ago

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Would you be willing to do One Piece characters with a reader who has a bunch of tattoos? And maybe if a person insults them or treats them differently because of it. I wore something with my tattoos visible and wasn't allowed into a business, I thought it would be a cool read 😂

Tattooed Hearts (Luffy, Sanji, Zoro)

Pairings: Luffy x Reader; Sanji x Reader; Zoro x Reader Summary: His reaction to someone treating you differently or being rude because of your tattoos. Warnings: Hurt, Comfort & Fluff, Female Reader A/N: I'm so sorry that happened to you, tattoos are such a beautiful form of self-expression and no one deserves that treatment!! I decided to do the monster trio for this fic, I hope you like it!! <3 [One Piece Masterlist] _____

- Luffy -

Luffy absolutely adores your tattoos and thinks the unique ways they cover your skin are the coolest. Of course, he does. You were already a badass girlfriend with the courage and strength to stand by him as he became the Pirate King. But the patterns and ink that adorn your skin spark his curiosity as much as they perfect the image of you.

That's why when you are both wandering the streets of an Island, he may not initially notice the treatment you receive because of your tattoos. Luffy is already quite an oblivious person, and so does not pick up on the subtle ways food vendors and shopkeepers look at you and your skin purposefully. He is simply in his head again, joyous about the prospect of trying new foods and embarking on an adventure.

However, if there is something Luffy can pick up on easily, it is when you are uncomfortable. He turns to you when you seem a bit quiet and you haven't been chiming into his idle words. He observes the way you keep your head lower than usual, your tension as you squeeze your hands tight and subtly look around you. His first instinct is to look for danger, but when he sees none he simply goes to the second best guess: that you were hungry.

So, he would unravel one of your clenched hands in his and beam widely. "Come on [y/n], that place looks nice!" You would feel uncertainty fill you as of course as you have noticed the unfriendly stares you have received. "Wait Luffy, I'm not sure that's such a good idea-" But your boyfriend as usual has dragged you to a food vendor before you can finish your words.

Almost instantly, your concerns are answered, as the man who runs the shop takes one look at you and frowns. He turns to an eager Luffy and instantly cuts off his abundance of orders. "Sorry, we don't have any food on offer today." Luffy's confusion is almost immediate as he turns to the vendor and then to the food that fills his stall. "What are you talking about, there's so much food there, stop being stingy!"

The vendor sighs and then turns to you, your lips downturn, knowing whatever he has to say to you won't exactly be a compliment. "Fine, we might be able to make an expectation for you, but don't think we're serving anything to your lady friend." Luffy's eyes spark dangerously at his words, impatience brimming as he finally starts to realise the bias the vendor has against you.

"Why? We're both hungry!" The man grimaces, turning away from you and ignoring Luffy's angry words. "Are you sure you can even afford this, with all that ink on your skin?" It only takes about a beat of a second, and suddenly instead of going to give the man a piece of your mind, he had disappeared from view: Luffy had punched him to the floor without even a second thought. "Lu-" you start, eyes wide at the sight, but Luffy's face is of a rage you only see in battle.

"Hey, old man. Stop being rude to [y/n]. We just wanted some food, if you're not going to give us that, you're a waste of our time."

- Sanji -

Sanji loves you, and your tattoos are one of the things he absolutely adores about you. The way they so intricately cover your skin, and the intimacy he finds when you tell him what they mean and why you got them provokes such love in him he can't describe. It feels like you are letting him in, and showing a part of you from your past, it feels like he is learning more about you; the person he loved. He loves running his hands over them, loves the way they almost perfect the image of you in his mind.

He wouldn't be able to believe if you ever told him you were treated differently because of them. It might honestly break his heart if he hears you have been insulted or refused certain things just because of the art form upon your skin. They were so perfect and beautiful, how could anyone think otherwise? How could anyone treat you that way? Unfortunately, however, you have already started to notice the sparing looks of the locals on the island you are both wandering, tinted with looks of displeasure.

Your boyfriend is of course too lost in your gaze to notice at first.

He only seems to notice when your rapid words have faded into unsure sentences, and your body language screams of discomfort he curses not to have recognised earlier. "Love, are you okay?" He asks, concern brimming in his eyes, and gaze darting around you, seeing if there was a danger he had yet to notice. He only then seems to see how some of the people who walk the streets are looking at you more than he would've liked. "Love if you want we can leave-"

You find yourself shaking your head, not wanting to be a bother to your boyfriend but also not being able to form a smile reassuring enough for him. "It's okay love, I'm okay. We can keep exploring, I know you still need to pick up groceries." Sanji looks to you, and struggles to believe your words but ultimately nods hesitantly. "Okay love but if you want us to leave you know I'll be happy to-"

It is at that moment, that Sanji catches the words of a man passing by and talking to a woman who nods at his words.

"Tattoos are for people who don't know better, she'll regret them soon enough."

Your heart clenches at his words and the woman's incessant agreement. They look to you purposefully and knowing that you can hear them. However, what they fail to notice is that Sanji is filled with a sort of rage he had never felt before. He freezes but his legs are aflame and the man who walks by him stops, as Sanji lets go of you gently and steps in front of him. His anger is almost untameable, but honestly, what would anyone expect when someone insults his girlfriend?

"Say that about [y/n]-san again, I dare you."

- Zoro -

Zoro would be lying to say he didn't think your tattoos were just perfect on your skin. Though not very open in his compliments, you can feel his adoration in late evenings, his favourite thing being lazily tracing the patterns on your bare skin before you fade to sleep. You were just so hot and he has to sometimes compose himself - cursing himself for acting like the idiot cook - when he sees your more subtle tattoos peak from beneath your clothes.

He could not fathom thinking any other way about the ink on your skin, more like he had never thought too much about it. Your tattoos were as part of you as much as your limbs were and he couldn't have it any other way. That's why he struggles to notice when people treat you differently because of the art on your skin. The two of you had been wandering around a town on the new Island you and your crew had docked when the incident occurred.

Zoro, as usual, had somehow been getting lost despite you telling him to stay by your side, and after the hundredth time reprimanding him, you had decided to hold his hand in yours. Zoro had surprisingly been silent when you took his hand in yours, and you grinned when you saw the light blush on his cheeks. "Aww is the big swordsman embarrassed." You tease and he looks down to you, glaring but not removing the hold you have on his hand. "Sh-Shut up woman!"

You had been rambling on as always and Zoro had been humming as you did, entering the conversation and adding his own quips when he deemed it necessary. It was a wonderful time until of course, you had let a silence take over when you noticed some of the women who walked the streets staring at you strangely. You are confused at first unsure of why their eyes are trained on you, until you register the words of a few girls who pass by.

"She'll regret them in a few years, trust me."

"Yeah, do you think her boyfriend will leave her then?"

"He's hot, he's probably regretting dating her already. I mean who wouldn't going out with that-"

Suddenly, there is a sharp shinging sound and in front of the girls who had just passed, there is now a very familiar sword making them come to a very sudden halt. Their frightened eyes travel upwards and to the very annoyed man holding said sword who looks at them with dangerous intent. You are surprised to see that Zoro had noticed, but of course, he had. He was very observant when it came to you, and immediately realised when you stopped talking, baring a look of discomfort as you watched women stare at you strangely.

There are many things that Roronoa Zoro may tolerate, but disrespect towards you is one of the things he would rather die than abide by. His face has taken on a shadowed expression and even the women who had stared at you along the streets have frozen in place and looked on with shock.

"Care to share more of your foolish thoughts? Oh, what's that? Suddenly I don't hear your annoying mumbling."

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fairlyang · 1 day ago

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No Te Contaron Mal 🕷️

w/c: 2.5K

pairing: fwb!miguel o’hara x latina!reader

tags: 18+ smut. fwb to lovers, jealousy, stubborn to not tell him, finding out he kissed another girl, getting mad, folding anyway, sucking him off, then getting mad n jealous again, arguing, kinda toxic but funny, reciprocated feelings, dumb confession, making out, grinding, riding, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: something so dumb and silly- y’all this song pisses me off every time i listen to it i HAD to finish this

smutmas masterlist | main masterlist

imagine just having a casual thing going on with miguel. you could call it a friends with benefits type of deal but you weren’t exactly going out with other people but it also wasn’t anything exclusive.

now the problem happened when one of your friends told you that she saw miguel kissing another girl at a club. something in that moment changed but you couldn't get yourself to admit that it was jealousy. especially when you made such a big fuss of it being something casual and nothing more.

so you did what you thought was best to get rid of even the mere thought of jealousy/your true feelings for him and just ignored him.

especially because you had gotten into a stupid argument yesterday which probably led to him making that decision in the first place.

the next day he texted you and the pure audacity of a man to want to fuck the night after kissing another girl was astonishing.

but he didn’t know that you knew and even if he did, he’d just tell you that you have no business to complain because you were the one that wanted something casual.

so you were fucked no matter what and folded anyway.

after he ate you out and made you forget all about your inner horrid feelings, you decided to repay the favor so you were between his legs on his bed sucking him off just how he liked.

his praise this time around had you feeling different, in a way made you shy and not want to look at him. so you closed your eyes, thinking it would help if you didn’t see him and that it wouldn’t bring the flashbacks of your heart being broken into little pieces from your friend telling you what she saw last night.

but yet his words now felt gentle, and for once in his life, loving. it was weird but nice. really nice.

you didn’t know what it was, just that your face felt like it was burning and your heart was fucking pounding. there was no way he knew but now it just brought up the question of why did it have to be casual?

why didn’t he wanna take you out to drinks to show you off to his friends? to kiss you in public like you were his? and even though he has you as a reliable booty call, why the fuck did he still feel the need to be kissing other girls?

you've dropped hints here and there, at times bringing your flirt game to extremes so he can figure it out himself but would apparently still be clueless.

if he wanted it to be something more he would’ve told you by now because some things he’s said makes it seem like he did. there was still a part of you that just had an inkling he might feel the same.

but although maybe you were just losing it since he literally kissed another girl last night.

the annoyance and jealousy quickly came back, pissing you off so badly and you couldn’t keep it in anymore. your eyes shot open and you pulled away from him, quickly sitting up and reaching over to put on his shirt to cover yourself while he looked at you confused and concerned, “why the fuck were you kissing another girl last night?”

he scoffed and shook his head in disbelief looking at your face to see if you were joking. he was quiet for a few seconds, absolutely shocked before finally speaking, “are you fucking serious?”

“eva dijo que te vió-“ (eva said she saw you-)

“es enserio…?” he says with the most dumbfounded look on his face, “please tell me you’re fucking with me.” (is this serious/real..?)

“me contó mal o que? ya dime para hacerme la idea de verdad.” you spat and cross your arms against your chest. (did she tell me wrong or what? tell me now so i can have the idea in mind for real)

you weren’t so sure what answer you wanted and knew you had no right to complain but still. this has been a situation for years now and even with all the arguments and the endless bickering, you've still stuck together and never swayed from each other.

until now.

“quieres hablar de esto ahora? ahorita mismo?” he asked and you scoffed, “cuando más?!” (you wanna talk about this now? like now, right at this moment?) (when else?!)

he tried his hardest not to laugh, knowing damn well if he did, you might just kill him.

he was shell shocked, and couldn’t believe this was actually happening. of all possible things he thought you’d be upset at or have to complain about that wasn’t even in his head as an option.

he never would’ve guessed that you knew otherwise he would have avoided sending a text in the first place.

“you’ve got me fucking speechless- i can’t believe this.” he mutters and you chuckle, "can say the same thing about you."

"don't do that-" he starts but you quickly interrupt, "don't do what?"

"you know what." he says calmly and you scoff.

there was a solid moment of silence for maybe a minute before finally he sighs and nods, “i’m gonna answer all your questions okay? but you have to let me finish.”

“fine.”

“no te contaron mal y ni te lo voy a negar.” he starts making you groan but he gives you a look before you could start to complain. (they didn’t tell you wrong and i’m not even going to deny it.)

“we kissed but that was it. maybe a couple times but it was only that.. okay maybe a couple caresses too but that was really it.” he explains and your heart starts beating faster with every passing word.

you give him a look and he sighs, unable to just not tell you the whole truth, “we flirted, i mean what was i suppose to do? you shouldn’t have an opinion on this given you practically cut me off yesterday..”

and before you could even begin to correct him, he just kept going,” and you know what, i got drunk because of you so if you think about it… this is your fault.”

you could only gasp then scoff before he immediately regretted it, shaking his head and coughing, “what i meant to say… that it was just one girl, and one is nothing. especially since it was just a couple kisses.”

“it doesn’t count as anything and truth be told, i couldn’t stop thinking of you.” he says, the last part making you gulp.

“just need you to know that you have me so fucked up in here.” he adds and points to his head.

“i have you fucked up?!!?!” you asked and he nodded.

“yesterday you went on another tangent that this is casual and i believe you said that nothing could change that so tell me, what the fuck changed?” he asked, sitting up and scooting towards you.

beyond annoyed, embarrassed, and lowkey ashamed, you were just about ready to do the walk of shame out of his apartment and drive your ass home. but he wasn’t going to let you.

there was determination in his eyes and you didn’t think you’d give him a confession in this point and time. let alone after being the one to always remind him it was nothing serious but yet it’s been serious.

at least it was on your end.

you’ve just been digging a hole to store those feelings in because after doing this with him for so long, you didn’t actually expect to gain something else for him that wasn’t purely sexual.

“i figured if i was the one to keep repeating this was as casual as can be then maybe…” you start then take a very deep breath before letting it out and looking away from him.

“then maybe i’d stop thinking of you in another way. or that i wouldn’t get excited when you’d text me or that i wouldn’t laugh at your stupid fucking jokes.” you explain, letting out a chuckle before continuing, “i just figured if i kept repeating the same thing over and over that i’d be able to convince myself that i didn’t like you. that this really is casual and that i haven’t lost it.”

you stopped and relaxed, taking slow breaths while you felt him scoot closer to you. you were already dreading this whole conversation and wish you could just fly away from your problems.

but unfortunately that wasn’t an option.

his hand went to your chin, gently bringing it up so you could look into his eyes. he had a stupid grin on his face while he just sighed and shook his head, “you’re too fucking stubborn.”

he moved his hands to your cheeks and brought your face to his, surprising you with a kiss while you gasped and quickly kissed him back. he smiled through the kiss, finding it to be sweet and freeing, given this was completely unplanned but not unwelcomed.

you quickly straddled him while he moved you both back so he could be closer to the pillows. your hands were already in his curls tugging on them while he slid his tongue into your mouth and his hands went down to your hips, making you grind against his hard on. you both moaned and you quickly ate it up, gliding your tongue against his while you grind against him bare.

his hands gripped your skin, somewhat tugging on his shirt wanting to take it off but you were making the kiss so hot and sloppy, he couldn’t be bothered to actually take it off you. he brought a hand down, moving his dick so you can slide on it better, knowing it won’t take too long before you get impatient.

but you weren’t, at all.

you were so caught up in the kiss that neither of you pulled away and didn’t feel the need to like you would any other day. hell, you never really kissed ever but after a confession like that, it felt right.

so you continued kissing him like your life depended on it while occasionally moaning into his mouth making him do the same.

meanwhile his hands were grabbing, and squeezing every part of your body.

up and down your back, on your thighs, squeezing your tits, pinching your nipples, smacking your ass. absolutely everything while you kept slowly grinding against his dick, leaving it all wet with your slick.

he was trying his hardest not to explode and just deal with the edging, as well as how warm and wet you were just because he couldn’t believe this was happening. he had to restrain himself, he didn’t want to waste a load that could easily be inside you.

you felt him twitching and your poor pussy was clenching, so you decided enough was enough and brought a hand down to his dick, lifting yourself up a bit and line his tip to your entrance.

he softly kissed you while you did so, just slowly lowering yourself down, taking him in and feeling him stretch you out. he tried his best to keep quiet but his head was mush and he was losing it.

once you bottomed out, he moaned in your mouth then pulled away, “fuck-“

you leaned your forhead against his and lifted your ass up just to slam down making him hiss, “eager huh?”

you chuckle and shrug, “maybe, may as well right?”

“seems you’re close anyway baby.” you tease making him playfully roll his eyes.

“some things never change huh?” he teases back and holds onto your hips, helping you come up.

he then makes you go down and you go back up again before he slams you down. you then do it all again but this time without stopping since you’d gotten enough practice to actually be able to ride him yourself.

he just very occasionally liked lending a helping hand or two.

and not just because he was greedy but also because he knew how much you love his touch. so it was to no surprise one hand was on your hip and the other came up front to squeeze one of your breasts.

you moved faster, wanting this to be a short ride so you could just lay in his arms afterwards and hear his own confession. at times he was a man of few words but tonight didn’t feel like one of those times.

especially not with how extra touchy feely and vocal he is.

it was like a miracle in disguise that you confessed, he was praising you like never before and even looking at you differently. in the best way imagineable too. maybe there was a chance he always has looked at you in a loving way or maybe it was just wishful thinking but it’s definitely the real deal now.

suddenly he grabs your head and you’re now looking over his shoulder, “your patience ran thin baby?” you whisper in his ear and he just grunts, “just hold on.”

you wrapped your arms around him and he did the same before he started thrusting into you making you jump and hold onto him tighter. he was fucking into you with ease, his thighs doing the work for him while you cried out into his shoulder.

your nails dug into his shoulder blade and back only motivating him to do it even faster. he was hitting your sweet spot so effortlessly and it was too good.

too good that you already felt your orgasm build up in your lower belly. you gasped and tried to control your moans but with his ruthless pace it was to no use and they blessed his ears anyway.

“baby i’m so close- fuck- it’s too much.” you whine making him let out a loud groan.

“it’s okay baby, i’ve got you. gonna cum so good for me, aren’t you pretty girl?” he murmurs amiing whimpers leave your mouth.

“i always take good care of you, don’t i?” he asked and you just hum, nodding.

you held onto him even tighter and lay your head on his shoulder as he thrusted harder into you. the sounds were even louder than before and him doing it like this made it feel ten times better just because he can hit your sweet spot deeper.

you closed your eyes shut as your orgasm hits your entire body, leaving you shaking and crying out while miguel spilled his load inside you also shaking. your body spasmed a bit and your walls entrapped miguel’s cock, making him groan and give one final thrust to ride out your highs.

you were both breathing heavily and holding onto each other while attempting to catch your breaths. miguel took deep breaths and laid down properly while you shifted around to get comfortable and lay your head on his chest.

he kissed the top of your head then your forehead and let out a sigh as he wrapped his arms around you gently. your eyes felt heavier by the second and the last thing you heard was him saying this was never casual for him before drifting off to sleep.

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o hara #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara smut

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s1e1lar · 2 days ago

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The Hollow Watchers | various creepypasta x youtuber!reader

4k words

Cw: female reader, paranoia, weapons, brief mention of death, and general creepiness

a/n: first off i haven't written something this long in FOREVER. It was 3am and I had an urge to fulfill. Um i have no idea if this will be a full series but depending on the general responses it might! If so i may cross post on wattpad. Anywho, I hope you enjoy!!

⛧°.⋆༺🦇༻⋆.°⛧

After years of exploring abandoned and supposedly haunted buildings, the tightness in your chest and the nagging sensation of being watched gradually faded. You’d grown accustomed to the eerie stillness, even enough to roam alone with a camera, filming for hours to later piece together for editing. But as soon as the car came to a stop a few feet from the derelict mall, a familiar unease settled deep in your gut. It was almost like a reflex—an urge to scream at your friend to turn around and head straight back to the safety of your shared apartment.

But her reaction couldn’t have been more different. She turned to you, a wide grin on her face, earrings jingling as she twisted in her seat, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Okay! So first, I want to film the outside and then do the intro in the lobby. From what I read online, the staircases should still be intact, so we can head up to the second level—” Her voice trailed off as you remained frozen, your eyes locked on the front doors of the mall, which were poorly boarded up.

Before you could say anything, a board suddenly fell from one of the windows. A shadow flitted out of sight, just out of view, too fast to be identified. You drew in a sharp breath, and your roommate fell silent beside you, staring at the same spot, her excitement faltering.

“Y/N, do you… do you have a bad feeling about this?” she asked, her voice suddenly smaller, unsure. Coming from her, the question was almost absurd—this was the same person who had been practically bouncing out of her seat moments ago.

But your viewers, as well as your roommate, had learned to trust your instincts. They’d saved you both more than once. Still, you could see the excitement on her face, and you didn’t want to ruin the moment. So, despite the chill crawling up your spine, you forced a smile and lied.

“Surprisingly, no. Someone probably didn’t secure it properly. Let’s just go with your plan, okay? I’ll even set up the equipment inside while you check out the outside.”

She smiled, clearly relieved, and unbuckled her seatbelt, ready to dive headfirst into the adventure. But you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

You stepped out of the car, the chill of the air biting at your skin as you made your way to the front entrance. The once-grand mall now stood like a hollowed-out carcass, windows shattered, walls chipped and peeling, and the faint smell of mildew in the air. The heavy scent of decay clung to everything, but you’d been in places worse than this. Still, something about this building gnawed at you, like a whisper in the back of your mind telling you to turn around. But you didn’t listen.

Your footsteps echoed loudly in the vacant lobby, the cracked tile underfoot reverberating with every move. The towering arches of the ceiling, once grandiose, now loomed like skeletal ribs over you. You set your equipment down, the soft metallic clang of your camera bag cutting through the silence. The cold air hung in the lobby, thick with dust swirling in the weak light from the broken skylights above.

You began setting up the lighting, carefully positioning the softbox in a corner to illuminate the space without revealing too much. It was eerie, the way the shadows stretched and danced in the corner of your eye, as if the place itself was alive. But it wasn’t your first time in a place like this. You focused, telling yourself to ignore the creeping sensation in your gut. This was just another job.

You finished arranging the lights, stepping back to admire the setup when you heard it—a faint, unmistakable sound. Footsteps.

Your heart skipped, and your eyes darted to the food court, just beyond the lobby. The sound was soft at first, but growing louder, echoing off the abandoned walls like a person walking with purpose. There was no one supposed to be here. No one but you and your roommate. Your breath caught in your throat.

Your instincts flared.

You spun around, eyes wide, reaching for your camera on the tripod. Your hands trembled as you quickly whipped it from its mount, the lens clicking into place as you adjusted the settings. The footsteps continued, deliberate and slow, too slow to be a person just passing by. They were pacing. Coming closer.

"Hey," you whispered, voice barely above a breath, but you didn’t know if you were talking to yourself or your roommate. You glanced toward the entrance, but she was still outside, filming near the storefronts.

You swallowed hard and turned the camera toward the food court, framing the darkened hallway just beyond the lobby. Your pulse was thudding in your ears as the footsteps grew louder, now unmistakably coming from the direction of the food court. The faint sound of shoes scuffing against cracked tile echoed through the space, as if someone was walking just out of view, just out of reach.

The camera’s red recording light blinked on. You held your breath, trying to steady your hands. Every instinct screamed at you to run, but your body was frozen. Something wasn’t right.

A shadow passed across the threshold of the hallway leading into the food court. It moved quickly, too quickly for it to be a person just casually strolling. Your pulse quickened, and you leaned in closer, focusing the lens. There was something—something about the shape—something off.

You saw it. A figure. A blur of movement in the periphery of the camera’s frame.

Then, nothing.

The footsteps stopped.

You stood there, the camera still trained on the hallway, but the space beyond was empty. The silence seemed to stretch on for far too long. You blinked, almost expecting the figure to reappear. But it didn’t.

A shiver ran down your spine, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. The air felt colder now, as if something had just shifted in the building—something that didn’t belong.

You swallowed, trying to calm yourself. "It’s just the wind," you whispered, but even to your own ears, it sounded weak. You scanned the food court again, your camera panning slowly to the dark corners, the abandoned kiosks, and empty tables.

But all you found was silence.

You had to tell your roommate. You turned, but as soon as you did, a loud bang came from the far end of the mall, followed by a series of metallic clangs. The sound echoed through the empty halls, deafening in its suddenness.

Your heart leapt into your throat.

This wasn’t the wind. Someone—or something—was here.

The sound of the metallic clang reverberated in your chest, sending a fresh wave of panic coursing through your veins. You swung the camera around again, eyes darting to the dark hallway that led deeper into the mall. The silence that followed was suffocating—unnatural. It wasn’t just quiet; it was wrong. You felt the weight of it pressing on your skin, suffocating you from all sides. The tension was so thick it felt like you were walking through molasses.

Your breath came in shallow bursts as you took a step back, hands still gripping the camera, but your focus was broken when the door to the lobby suddenly flew open.

Your roommate burst through, her face flushed, eyes wide with excitement—or was it fear? She didn’t seem to notice your expression as she hurried toward you, holding up her phone, her voice breathless.

“I saw a tree moving! I even got it on camera!” she exclaimed, her words tumbling out in a rush.

You blinked, still reeling from the strange noises. For a split second, you didn’t even process what she said.

“A tree?” you repeated, confused. “What are you talking about? Are you sure you’re okay?”

Her excitement quickly turned into nervous energy. “I swear, Y/N! I saw a tree by the parking lot—just past the busted gate—and it moved! Like... like it was alive or something. I filmed it, look!” She held out her phone, swiping through the footage. The video was shaky, but it showed a twisted, gnarled tree swaying in the distance. And then, at the very end of the shot, something seemed to... shift. A shadow, tall and slender, darting across the screen, moving against the wind.

Your stomach churned, and you didn’t need to watch any longer. You’d already seen enough.

“I don’t know, this whole place feels wrong,” you muttered, trying to shake the dread crawling up your spine. “I think we should go.”

You looked around the empty lobby, the footsteps from earlier still echoing in your mind. Everything about this place—everything—was off. You didn’t need a tree moving or some random noise to tell you that something was watching you. Something was here, and it wasn’t just the wind.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” your roommate said, her voice suddenly quiet, the earlier thrill gone. She swallowed hard, nodding. “Let’s just pack up and get out of here. I’ll grab the camera.”

You didn’t need any more convincing. You turned to start packing up your gear, but the unease in your gut only deepened as you did. It was the air—the way it felt so thick, suffocating, like the building itself was holding its breath, waiting for something.

You heard it before you saw it.

The faintest sound—soft, shallow, but unmistakable. Breathing.

Your breath caught in your throat. You froze mid-motion, hands trembling as you reached for the camera. The noise came from behind you, from the darkened hallway. It wasn’t your roommate, who was too busy fiddling with her gear. It was something else.

Breathing. Slow. Labored. As though it was deliberately trying to remain unnoticed.

You turned, your eyes frantically searching the dark corners of the lobby, your heart pounding in your chest. The air felt thick, suffocating. You were about to say something when you heard it again—closer this time.

You couldn’t explain why, but suddenly, you just knew. Something—someone—was standing behind you.

Without thinking, you grabbed your camera, shoved it into your bag, and motioned for your roommate to hurry. “We need to go. Now.”

She didn’t hesitate. She slung her bag over her shoulder and hurried toward the door.

You both started toward the entrance, but as you reached for the handle, a sudden whoosh sliced through the air. You barely had time to react.

A hatchet flew past you, its sharp edge slicing the air with a deadly whoosh. It missed you by inches, embedding itself with a sickening thud into the metal framework of the glass door. The force of the impact rattled the glass, sending a shower of dust and loose fragments scattering into the air.

Your heart jumped into your throat, and you spun around, breathless. Your eyes darted wildly, but there was nothing—no one. The shadows were still.

“What the hell?” your roommate gasped, her face pale, her voice shaking.

You stood frozen, your hand still hovering over the door handle. The hatchet gleamed in the dim light, lodged deep into the door like a warning, its handle jutting out at an unnatural angle.

Your mind raced. It didn’t matter who had thrown it, or why. All that mattered was that someone—or something—had just tried to kill you.

"Get back," you hissed, your voice sharp as you pulled your roommate back away from the door. “Don’t touch it. Just move.”

You moved quickly, your pulse pounding in your ears. You had to get out. You had to.

You glanced toward the open lobby, the dark hallways beyond, and you could feel it again. That presence, lurking just out of sight. But this time, you didn’t wait. You didn’t want to know what was hiding in the shadows anymore.

With a frantic glance over your shoulder, you yanked open the door, dragging your roommate out into the night air.

You didn't stop running until you were in the car, doors locked, engine roaring to life. You slammed the car into reverse, speeding away from the abandoned mall, your hands gripping the steering wheel so hard your knuckles turned white.

But even as you drove, even as the mall disappeared in the rearview mirror, you couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was in there... was still watching you.

⋆˙♱˙⋆

The engine of your car hummed quietly in the still night air, the only sound breaking the oppressive silence of the empty parking lot. You sat there, gripping the steering wheel, the soft glow of the dashboard lights casting a sickly pallor over your face. Your mind was racing, running in circles as you stared at the abandoned mall in front of you.

You shouldn’t have come back. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to leave, to turn the car around and drive back home. But the footage, the incomplete shots—it was all too important. You had to get the rest of your equipment. You couldn’t just walk away.

Yet, the closer you got to this place, the more that nagging feeling in your chest deepened. Every instinct was telling you that something was still here, something you couldn’t see. That breathless, oppressive presence from last time—it hadn’t gone anywhere.

You glanced at the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of the pitch-black road stretching out behind you. Nothing seemed amiss. No lights, no movement. Just emptiness. But as your gaze turned back to the mall’s darkened silhouette, you felt a chill crawl up your spine.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart, and let your eyes wander. They drifted over to the edge of the parking lot, where the woods began. The trees were thin, their skeletal branches twisting into the air, blocking out the faint glow of the moon. You tried to focus on the shadows, to distract yourself, but something in the dark just beyond the tree line caught your attention.

At first, you thought it was just another twisted tree, something you’d seen a hundred times before—tall, gnarled, reaching up toward the sky in an unsettling, crooked way. It wasn’t until your gaze locked onto it, your vision narrowing, that you realized how wrong it was.

It wasn’t a tree.

You froze.

Standing in the shadows of the woods, just beyond the parking lot, was a figure. At first, it looked like a tall, thin tree. But as your eyes adjusted, you could see it clearly—a figure too tall, too unnaturally straight. It was something else entirely.

The figure was impossibly tall—far too tall to be human—and impossibly still, standing there in the darkness. Its limbs were unnaturally elongated, like they didn’t belong to a human body, with no discernible features except for its broad, unsettlingly smooth silhouette. The shape of its head was missing—no eyes, no nose, no mouth. Just a blank, featureless space, a void.

It was wearing a suit. A black suit, crisp and perfectly tailored, but the fabric hung strangely around its frame, almost as if the body underneath had no real shape.

For a moment, your breath caught in your throat, and your pulse hammered in your ears. The figure didn’t move. It simply stood there, motionless, as if it had been waiting for you to see it.

You blinked, hoping that when you opened your eyes again, it would be gone. But it wasn’t. The figure was still there, standing like a twisted monument to something unspeakable. Its presence seemed to distort the very air around it, warping the shadows and making the trees feel smaller, as if they were bending away from it. It was the kind of thing that made your mind try to block it out, to tell yourself it couldn’t be real.

But it was real. It had to be.

Before you could process the thought, your eyes blinked again—just once, a reflex—and when you looked back, the figure was gone.

Nothing remained but the dark outline of the trees, swaying gently in the night breeze.

You swallowed hard, your breath shaky as you tried to rationalize what you had just seen. It must have been a trick of the light. Your nerves were shot, your mind on edge. There was no way that was real. You hadn’t seen that.

But deep down, a part of you knew. A part of you understood that whatever had been standing out there wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. That presence in the woods—it wasn’t human. And you had no idea what it wanted.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, frozen in the car, staring at the woods, hoping that when you blinked again, the figure would still be gone. But the air around you felt heavy, thick with something unspoken. And then, as if on cue, the wind picked up, rustling the trees in a low, mournful whisper.

You couldn’t stay here forever.

You took a deep breath, shaking it off, trying to regain some semblance of composure. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just the mind playing tricks on you, the strange energy of this place distorting your thoughts.

You turned off the engine, grabbed your bag, and opened the door. The chill hit you immediately, and you pulled your jacket tighter around you, trying to ignore the sense of dread pooling in your stomach.

You didn’t look back at the woods. You didn’t want to.

As you walked toward the mall’s entrance, the stillness of the night pressed in on you, almost as if the darkness itself was waiting. The sound of your footsteps echoed louder than usual, too loud in the emptiness, and every instinct screamed at you to turn around, to leave.

But you had to finish what you started. You had to retrieve your gear.

You reached the entrance, the large double doors looming in front of you, and took a deep breath. The air around you smelled musty, thick with the decay of abandonment, but you didn’t hesitate. You pushed the door open, stepping into the lobby once more, the eerie stillness wrapping around you like an old coat.

The lights you’d set up last time were still there, but the shadows they cast seemed longer, more distorted. The silence was deafening, broken only by the faintest rustling sound that seemed to come from somewhere deeper inside.

You forced yourself to keep walking. One step. Then another.

Something was here. You could feel it again.

But you couldn’t stop now. You had to get your equipment, finish what you came for—and leave.

The lobby was suffocatingly quiet, the stale air thick with dust and the scent of rot. You moved quickly, heart racing as you scanned the room for your gear. The camera bag was exactly where you'd left it, your extra tripod lying on the ground nearby, but your eyes darted around frantically, searching for that one thing that would make all of this worth it: the SD card.

You rifled through your bag, the contents scattering as your hands trembled. Your fingers brushed against wires, spare lenses, and old receipts, but no SD card. Your stomach sank.

Where is it?

You searched more frantically now, pulling everything out of the bag, tearing through pockets that didn’t even hold anything of value. The SD card—your footage, everything—was gone. It had been right there when you left the last time. You couldn’t have lost it.

A chill ran through you, and the unease you had been trying to shove down came rushing back. Someone had taken it. But who? Or… what? Your mind raced, but you couldn’t linger on it.

You grabbed the rest of your gear, shoving everything into your bag as quickly as you could. The earlier panic was starting to fade, replaced by a numbing kind of determination. It was better to leave with what you had than nothing at all. The footage could wait.

You stood up, your bag heavy in your hands, and for a brief moment, the silence in the mall almost felt normal again. As if everything was just abandoned—nothing to worry about, nothing to fear.

But that thought was fleeting.

The weight of your own breath filled the space, the emptiness pressing in on you. The uneasiness started to creep back. Your footsteps echoed louder than before, too loud for a place that was supposed to be abandoned. The mall stretched out in front of you, dark corridors and shadowy hallways beckoning you deeper in.

You stood there, your hand resting on the edge of the food court’s entrance. The air felt thick, almost like the walls themselves were closing in on you. You glanced around, half-expecting something to emerge from the darkness, but when nothing moved, you hesitated for only a moment.

Maybe it was your exhaustion, maybe your desperation to be done, but you couldn’t help it. You walked a little farther in, the floor creaking beneath your boots, and the walls seemed to close in, narrowing your path as you ventured deeper.

That's when you saw him.

At the far end of the food court, standing motionless at one of the broken kiosks, was a man. A tall, lanky figure dressed in a long, dark coat. His face was hidden behind a white, doll-like mask—smooth, featureless, and disturbingly blank. The mask seemed almost... too still, like it was frozen in time.

The man didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t even breathe. He just stood there, staring directly at you, or maybe past you. His presence felt like a stone in your gut, too heavy to ignore.

You stopped, your breath caught in your throat. Something about him—it wasn’t right. You could feel the heat rising in your chest, a warning ringing in your ears. This wasn’t just a person in a mask. It was something more. Something… wrong.

A scraping noise echoed from behind you. The sound was sharp, metallic—like someone dragging something heavy across the floor.

You whipped around, your heart racing, and the sight made you freeze in place.

At the far side of the food court, under the dim glow of a flickering fluorescent light, was a young man with short, messy brown hair. He stood over a thick wooden table, bent low, sharpening an axe. The rhythmic sound of the blade being dragged across the stone whetstone cut through the silence, slow and methodical. The edge of the axe glinted as it caught the light, the steel gleaming darkly.

Your blood ran cold. The man didn’t even look at you. He didn’t acknowledge your presence at all. His focus was entirely on the axe, his movements deliberate. Each time the blade scraped against the stone, the sound sent a shiver up your spine.

And then, before you could react, a gloved hand suddenly shot out from behind you, covering your mouth with startling speed and force. The shock of it sent you into a panic, but you didn’t scream. You barely managed to stop yourself in time, your throat tight with fear.

You tried to pull away, but the grip was firm, strong—unnaturally so. The hand was cool and methodical, as if the person behind you had planned this.

The first words that escaped your lips were barely a whisper, but they felt like they belonged to someone else, someone who had just realized how deep in trouble they were.

“H-Holy shit.”

The hand remained pressed over your mouth, and your body stiffened, every muscle in your body urging you to run, to scream, to fight. But you knew better. You couldn’t risk making a sound. The man with the mask, the one who had been watching you—the young man with the axe—none of it made sense, and you couldn’t afford to make a mistake.

In the silence, you could hear the scrape of the axe again, the sharp edge moving over the stone with a relentless rhythm. The smell of rust and decay clung to the air. And the feeling of being watched? It hadn’t gone away. It had only intensified.

Whoever was behind you, whoever was watching you, had no intention of letting you leave the mall alive.

#creepypasta #slenderverse #slenderman #tim wright #brian thomas #ticci toby #masky marble hornets #hoodie #toby rogers #youtube #various x reader #x reader #creepypasta x y/n #abandoned places #paranormal

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s-ccaam-era-crepe · 2 months ago

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Attempt number 2!!!! You might remember I’ve done this before but I wanted to try again at Archie’s Matcha Focaccia (recipe credit to @224bbaker) and also it’s a special occasion :)

Go listen to season 2 if you haven’t !!!!!

#camera talks #fawx & stallion #took creative liberties with this one !! icing was my thing lmao #just ignore the difference in pieces in the second one #I didn’t put icing on All of them but it looked weird anyways #would have loved if it risen a bit more but anyways #I hope the flavor is good I like it :))#we’ll have to see later lol. it’s not everyone’s cup of tea definitely. matcha is an acquired taste I think #I also still think the focaccia part could have come out better but next time !!#also might post this laterrr so the mentioned special occasion won’t see it :3 #hellooo I’m going to bed after posting this but my bf liked the bread yippee !! I’m very happy :)))

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sketchy-tour · 1 year ago

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These were meant to be warmups. ANYWHO!

Went to a random palette site and picked ones that were reminiscent of Wally's colors but still very different that I liked and grabbed some outfits to do a sort of challenge for myself. Idk, thought it would help me out of my funk.

Suffice to say, I'm feeling a bit better now~ These were really fun to do!!!

#welcome home #welcome home puppet show #wally darling #welcome home arg #WH Wally #welcome home wally #wally darling fanart #welcome home fanart #welcome home puppet arg #my art #Waaawwwyyy in a dreessss #Drawing the man to heal my soul #The top one feels so different from what I'm used to!!#Im usually so set on keeping my art soft but man doing something like this was kinda fun!!!#SHOUT OUT TO THEKNIFECLOWN for letting me steal their fit for the second piece!!!!!#limited colors also meant Wallys stuck with blue eyelids but ngl I find the blue so cute. A part of Wally's beta design I really really lik #Anyway its 5am and shoulda been in bed...AGES ago!!!#enjoy enjoy #sidenote please ignore that i just drew the same expression twice fjsjkdd god I didnt even REALIZE!!!!!

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acesluvrxx · 6 months ago

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paper art (i shoulda shown the last one a looong time ago but i forgyat)

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nervousmonolith · 3 months ago

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thinking about the whole twt scam situation ™ again ough

#monolith mumbles #gonna rant for a min #like main situation sorted fine #then boom 27 yr old mutual of op comes crawling out the woodworks #i did ask a silly question which i apologized for twice and reiterated TWICE. and they then kept yapping and arguing 💀#like erm i think calling an autistic person braindead at ur big age is weird actually #''omfg are you braindead this is a common scam get it through your thick skulls'' first im a tumblr main. second it clearly isnt common #enough considering op got scammed💀#and i still think im justified being put off that nobody (excluding op) noticed the glaring differences in the accounts 💀 and how it was #up for 10+ hours with no one noticing 💀#along with that they tried to frame it like i thought op had it out for me then said i wasnt important enough for someone to target me #because my twt acc has like 300 followers which. clearly i was because the scammer used my art💀#again twenty fucking seven. 27 DOING ALL THIS #after my final reply i ignored my twt main for like 2 days. which someone else replied saying something that started with #''all this happened because you'' then i just blocked them today before reading the rest. and just blocked everyone involved #like if ur mutual is 27 behaving like this i do nawt want to have any interaction with you at all soz. i also didn't get any priv apologies #instead they were pushing how they were innocent and not accusing anyone of being guilty which. its like you were a min ago #u were accusing ME💀 go d #me miffed about not getting priv apologies is me being petty but im 5'4 im never the bigger person so #I'll stay petty actually #anyway blocked all of them for my own piece hope op gets $60 back somehow but i also want 0 interaction based on their oomf

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kingdomoftyto · 2 years ago

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I never used to give much thought one way or another to the whole "diagnosing characters with your own label/disability/illness/etc" but ever since I figured out my autism, like.... I get it. Damn, these characters ARE all autistic af. Good for them.

#ignore me #inspired by me seeing multiple posts in one day directly and casually referring to Miles Edgeworth as autistic bc fuck yeah he sure is!! :)#so glad we're all in agreement about this lmao #but no yeah seriously as soon as I self-diagnosed it's like a switch was flipped #and the second I gave myself permission to claim any knowledge of The Autistic Experience then suddenly #there really IS at least one character in every piece of media who I identify with on a new and different level than before #which is insane because outwardly nothing has actually changed. it's just a shift in perspective #but it makes a big difference somehow. idk how to explain it.#MY blorbos now. the neurotypicals can pry them from my cold dead hands

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pyrrhiccomedy · 29 days ago

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I feel like we need a refresher on Watsonian vs Doylist perspectives in media analysis. When you have a question about a piece of media - about a potential plot hole or error, about a dubious costuming decision, about a character suddenly acting out of character -

A Watsonian answer is one that positions itself within the fictional world.

A Doylist answer is one that positions itself within the real world.

Meaning: if Watson says something that isn't true, one explanation is that Watson made a mistake. Another explanation is that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle made a mistake.

Watsonian explanations are implicitly charitable. You are implicitly buying into the notion that there is a good in-world reason for what you're seeing on screen or on the page. ("The bunny girls in Final Fantasy wear lingerie all the time because they're from a desert culture!")

Doylist explanations are pragmatic. You are acknowledging that the fiction is shaped by real-world forces, like the creators' personal taste, their biases, the pressures they might be under from managers or editors, or the limits of their expertise. ("The bunny girls in Final Fantasy wear lingerie because somebody thought they'd sell more units that way.")

Watsonian explanations tend to be imaginative but naive. Seeking a Watsonian explanation for a problem within a narrative is inherently pleasure-seeking: you don't want your suspension of disbelief to be broken, and you're willing to put in the leg work to prevent it. Looking for a Watsonian answer can make for a fun game! But it can quickly stray into making excuses for lazy or biased storytelling, or cynical and greedy executives.

Doylist explanations are very often accurate, but they're not much fun. They should supersede efforts to provide a Watsonian explanation where actual harm is being done: "This character is being depicted in a racist way because the creators have a racist bias.'" Or: "The lore changed because management fired all of the writers from last season because they didn't want to pay then residuals."

Doylism also runs the risk of becoming trite, when applied to lower stakes discrepancies. Yes, it's possible that this character acted strangely in this episode because this episode had a different writer, but that isn't interesting, and it terminates conversation.

I think a lot of conversations about media would go a lot more smoothly, and everyone would have a lot more fun, if people were just clearer about whether they are looking to engage in Watsonian or Doylist analysis. How many arguments could be prevented by just saying, "No, Doylist you're probably right, but it's more fun to imagine there's a Watsonian reason for this, so that's what I'm doing." Or, "From a Watsonian POV that explanation makes sense, but I'm going with the Doylist view here because the creator's intentions leave a bad taste in my mouth that I can't ignore."

Idk, just keep those terms in your pocket? And if you start to get mad at somebody for their analysis, take a second to see if what they're saying makes more sense from the other side of the Watsonian/Doylist divide.

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lizziesangel · 28 days ago

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RAFE CAMERON ⟢ just one date

x sweet!pogue!FEM!reader ⟢ MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: based on this request

WORD COUNT: 5212

GENRE: fluff (teeny tiny angst)

CONTENT WARNING: mentions of cheating (not rafe), rafe calling reader 'sweet girl'

you found yourself sitting on your bed, staring blankly at the wall, tears still stubbornly slipping down your cheeks. “you really think i would stay with a pogue like you?” his words had stung like venom, and they echoed in your mind, over and over again.

you had tried so hard to ignore the doubts, to convince yourself that it was all worth it—that he was worth it. but now? now, everything was shattered, and you couldn’t hold the pieces together anymore.

you sheepishly nodded your head, trying to regain just a fraction of the dignity he had so easily stripped from you. you felt small, embarrassed, humiliated—and you hadn’t even been the one in the wrong.

he was.

he chose her. above you.

and you regretted every argument, every moment you’d defended him to your friends. you’d backed him up, made excuses for him, convinced yourself that he was different. but now? now it felt like nothing more than a cruel joke.

“you might be sweet, but you’re not one of the smartest girls, cupcake.” the smirk on his face made your stomach twist. you wished you could slap it off his face, wipe that smugness away, but you couldn’t move.

then a voice—his voice—cut through your spiraling thoughts.

“earth to y/n,” a hand waved in front of your face, pulling you out of your haze.

you looked up, startled, and there he was—rafe cameron.

his brow was furrowed, eyes searching your face as if trying to read you. it wasn’t a normal “rafe” look—this was something else. something softer.

“hey, sweet girl,” he said, his voice gentler than you expected. “you alright?”

you blinked, struggling to pull yourself together. rafe had always been your childhood best friend, the one who never judged you, the one who saw the real you. but right now, he was staring at you with an intensity that felt...different.

you wiped your eyes hastily, but it only made your tears come harder.

“i don’t... i don’t know what i did wrong,” you muttered, your voice shaky. “i gave him everything, rafe. everything.”

rafe didn’t say anything at first. instead, he just sat down next to you on the bed, his presence solid and warm, grounding you.

“you didn’t do anything wrong, sweet girl,” he said, his words almost like a soft promise. “he’s the one who messed up. not you.”

you wanted to believe him. you wanted to believe that it wasn’t your fault.

“but why? why pick her? why pick... her over me?” your voice cracked as you spoke.

rafe’s expression shifted, his eyes hardening as he shook his head. “because he’s a complete idiot. that’s why. a selfish, dumb idiot who doesn’t deserve you. not like i do.”

your heart skipped in your chest at his words. he said them so confidently, so matter-of-fact, and for a brief moment, you almost believed him.

“you deserve someone who knows what he has,” rafe continued. “someone who’s not gonna choose a girl who probably doesn’t even care about him like you do.”

you met his eyes, feeling the weight of his gaze like a soft anchor in a sea of confusion. “thanks, rafe,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

rafe chuckled, his usual cocky grin creeping onto his face. “well, you should’ve dated me, sweet girl.”

you let out a shaky laugh, the first laugh you’d managed all night. it wasn’t much, but it was something. “yeah, maybe you’re right,” you said, trying to muster a bit of humor.

rafe’s smile widened, and for a second, you could see something soft in his eyes. it was like you’d just melted the icy wall he’d kept up for so long.

“i mean, come on,” he teased, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “i’m a hell of a catch. why settle for that loser when you could’ve had this?”

you laughed again, this time a little louder, and something inside rafe shifted. he didn’t look like the arrogant, self-assured guy you’d grown up with—no, now he looked like someone who’d just let down his guard for you.

he looked at you like you had just made his world a little brighter, and in that moment, you realized just how much he meant to you—not just as a friend, but as someone who cared about you in a way that was rare.

“you’re such a dork,” you said with a weak smile, wiping away another stray tear.

rafe just grinned, his eyes softening even more. “yeah, but i’m your dork, sweet girl.”

and for the first time that night, you actually believed it. you believed that maybe, just maybe, there was someone who truly saw you.

“i’ll always have your back, y/n,” rafe said quietly, his voice full of sincerity. “you never have to go through this alone.”

the sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the ocean. the waves were perfect—big but not too wild—and you had been out there for hours, trying (and mostly failing) to catch one.

rafe was beside you, effortlessly riding the waves like he was born on a surfboard, while you struggled to stay upright. it was the kind of day where everything felt right, the kind of day that made you forget about everything else—the drama, the stress, everything that had been weighing on you lately.

“okay, sweet girl, focus.”

rafe’s voice was low and teasing as he paddled over to you, his board gliding smoothly through the water. his eyes were full of that signature confidence of his, the one that made you feel like you could do anything... even though, in this case, surfing was still a work in progress for you.

“i’m trying!” you laughed, trying to wipe the saltwater out of your eyes. “it’s harder than it looks.”

rafe grinned, his smile turning mischievous. “yeah, i know. but you’re doing great. now, when the wave comes—don’t freak out. just keep your balance and trust me, you’ll ride it.”

you nodded, your stomach fluttering a little, both from the excitement and... well, the fact that rafe was staring at you with that intense, knowing look.

as the next wave came in, rafe paddled ahead, giving you a quick wink. “here comes a good one, sweet girl. you ready?”

you took a deep breath, focused, and started paddling, but before you knew it, you lost your balance and fell into the water with a splash.

“ow,” you muttered, coming up for air and wiping the water from your face.

rafe was already there, laughing a little as he helped you back onto your board. “you good?”

you glared at him playfully. “yeah, just embarrassed, that’s all.”

rafe grinned, his eyes sparkling. “don’t worry about it. everyone falls. even me, once in a while.”

“yeah, right,” you rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “you’re practically a professional.”

he laughed, paddling closer to you. “maybe. but you know, i’m a professional at more than just surfing.”

you raised an eyebrow, suddenly curious. “oh? and what else are you a professional at, rafe?”

he leaned back, resting on his board, looking completely relaxed. “well, i’m pretty good at knowing what i want, sweet girl.”

you felt a flutter in your chest at the way he said it, but you tried to play it cool. “oh yeah? and what do you want, exactly?”

rafe smirked, his gaze locking with yours. “you. you should date me.”

your heart skipped. “what?” you blinked, sure you hadn’t heard him right.

“you should date me,” he repeated, his voice smooth and confident, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

you couldn’t help but laugh nervously, shaking your head. “nooo, we shouldn’t, rafe.”

rafe’s expression didn’t change; in fact, it only grew more intense. “why not, sweet girl?” he asked, his voice soft but insistent.

you tried to keep things light, but your heart was beating too fast, and you felt your face flush. “because… well, we’re friends, rafe. we’ve been friends for so long. dating would just ruin everything.”

rafe chuckled, paddling closer to you, his face serious now. “is that really why? or is it because you’re scared of what could happen?”

you shifted uncomfortably, feeling that familiar heat creep up your neck. “i’m not scared.”

“you sure about that, sweet girl?” he asked, leaning in just a little closer, his voice quiet and teasing. “because i think you’re scared of how good we could be together.”

your breath caught, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right words. you and rafe had always been close, but this... this felt different. “rafe, we’re best friends.”

“and that’s exactly why it would work,” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “we get each other. i know you better than anyone. and you know me, even with all my flaws.”

you looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time, it wasn’t just rafe—the guy you’d known your whole life. it was rafe, the guy who was slowly breaking down all your walls with just a few words.

“you’re really serious about this, huh?” you whispered.

rafe nodded, his gaze steady. “yeah. i’m serious, sweet girl. you should date me.”

the sun was setting over the beach, casting a golden hue across the group of friends hanging out at the shore. kie, jj, pope, and you were sprawled out on the sand, chatting and laughing, as the sound of the waves crashing in the background filled the air. it was one of those perfect summer evenings, where everything felt easy, and you didn’t want it to end.

you’d been spending a lot of time with rafe lately. you knew the others noticed, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought. it wasn’t anything serious—at least, you didn’t think it was. but lately, it felt like there was something unspoken between you two, something that made your heart race every time you saw him.

as you glanced over toward the shore, you spotted him—rafe, just a few feet away, laughing with some friends. you smiled to yourself, trying not to get caught staring, but jj was quick to notice.

“hey, isn't that your boyfriend over there?” jj teased, pointing in rafe’s direction with a smirk.

you immediately felt your cheeks heat up. “oh, stop,” you said, shaking your head with a soft laugh, your voice sweet and warm, trying to brush it off. “it’s not like that, jj.”

kie raised an eyebrow, glancing over at you with a grin. “well, he’s not wrong though, right? you two are always together these days.”

“stop,” you said, but this time, you giggled, your voice light and gentle, trying to ignore the growing warmth in your face. “he can hear you.”

as if on cue, you heard rafe’s familiar voice drifting over from the edge of the group. “nah, they’re right, sweet girl,” he called with a grin, walking over casually and brushing the sand off his hands. “i could totally be your boyfriend.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at how smoothly he said it, your heart doing that little flip in your chest. “not really, rafe,” you teased, your smile growing even bigger.

he nudged you playfully with his elbow, and you couldn’t help but giggle again. “we’ll see about that,” he said, still grinning, clearly enjoying the moment.

your face lit up with the cutest, most genuine smile as you looked at him. “thanks for the offer.”

rafe smirked, leaning down to sit beside you, his eyes never leaving yours. he was completely comfortable in his own skin, as always, but there was something in his gaze that made you feel like you were the only person in the world at that moment.

“you’re welcome, sweet girl,” he said, his tone light but with an underlying sincerity that made your heart skip.

jj and kie changed amused looks, both of them clearly enjoying the dynamic between you two. pope just shook his head, grinning, clearly pleased to see you happy.

“okay, okay,” jj said with a chuckle. “you two are cute, but we’ll let you figure out the whole ‘dating’ thing later.”

you couldn’t help but laugh again, feeling a mix of lightness and warmth, knowing that your friends were teasing, but also really just looking out for you. you glanced at rafe, who was watching you with that mischievous glint in his eyes, and felt a little flutter in your chest. Whatever was going on between you two, it was something new and exciting—and maybe, just maybe, there was a part of you that was starting to wonder what it would be like to see where it could go.

the sun filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over sarah’s room as you, john b and sarah lounged around on the bed, the three of you chatting casually, a comfortable silence falling over the group as you just hung out.

sarah was flipping through a magazine, but her eyes kept darting to you, a sly smile tugging at her lips. you couldn’t ignore the way she kept glancing between you and john b, clearly waiting for the right moment to drop a bomb.

finally, she couldn't hold it in anymore. “you know, rafe talks about you a lot.” her voice was light, teasing, but there was a knowing glint in her eyes.

your heart skipped in your chest. rafe had been on your mind lately—way too much, actually—but you tried to keep things light. The last thing you wanted was for your friends to think anything serious was going on. you blushed, looking down at your hands as if they could somehow distract you from the heat creeping up your neck.

“what? no way, sarah,” you said, a little too quickly, trying to cover up the surprise in your voice. “rafe doesn’t talk about me. we’re just... friends. nothing more.”

sarah raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “uh-huh. you’re telling me the guy who spends literally all his time with you doesn’t talk about you?” she leaned back, crossing her arms with that playful look she always got when she was onto something. “come on, y/n, i’m not stupid. he’s always bringing you up.”

you swallowed, feeling yourself blush even harder. you tugged on your sleeve nervously, trying to hide the growing embarrassment. “really, it’s nothing, sarah. he’s just... he’s not made for me, okay?” you said softly, trying to downplay it. “he’s... complicated, and i’m just not ready for that kind of drama. we’re just... friends.” you said it again, as if repeating the words would make you believe it.

john b, who had been lazily lying on his back, suddenly propped himself up on his elbows, his curious eyes studying you. “you never know, y/n,” he said, his voice calm but with a hint of something more—hope, maybe? “maybe you two could be something. it’s not always the way it seems.”

you shook your head, the uncertainty clouding your thoughts. “no, john b, i do know.” yout voice softened, but the resolve in it was clear. “the same thing is gonna happen as always. he’ll get bored, or it’ll turn into a mess, and i’ll be the one who’s hurt. i can already see it.” you looked down at your hands again, your fingers twisting the hem of your sleeve in a nervous habit you hadn’t realized you were doing.

sarah’s teasing smile faded a little, and she sat up, looking at you with an understanding that made your chest tighten. “you don’t know that for sure, though, y/n.”

but you shook your head, smiling faintly, trying to push the feelings back down where they belonged. “i do know. i can’t do it. i’m not ready to deal with someone like him. he’s got too many layers, too many... things that make him complicated. i’m not built for that. not anymore.”

john b frowned, clearly not convinced, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he sat up and gave you a sympathetic look. “alright, y/n, if you say so. but you’re a lot stronger than you think. and you deserve someone who can handle you—all of you.”

sarah nodded in agreement, her eyes softening. “and if it’s rafe, then maybe it’s meant to be. you’ll figure it out, y/n.”

you smiled, but it wasn’t as easy this time. you had spent so long convincing yourself that nothing could happen between you and rafe—that it was safer this way—that it was hard to picture anything else. you didn’t want to set yourself up for disappointment. but deep down, a part of you wondered if sarah and john be were right. what if it could work?

you made your way downstairs, the house still and quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator. the cameron’s fridge always had your favorite apple juice stocked, and today was no different. you smiled to yourself, pouring a glass and feeling at home in the familiarity of tannyhill.

as you reached for the carton, you spotted rafe standing at the kitchen counter, his back turned to you. his posture was slouched, and he looked deep in thought, an air of melancholy surrounding him that you hadn’t seen before. normally, rafe had an easy, almost cocky confidence, but today, there was something off about him.

you couldn’t help the warm smile that tugged at your lips as you walked over to him. you hadn’t seen him in a few hours, and as much as you liked the space, you still found yourself gravitating toward him, like you always did.

“hey, you,” you said gently, your voice soft as you poured yourself a glass of juice. you couldn’t help but notice the frown on his face as he slowly turned to face you.

rafe didn’t immediately respond, his eyes tired and distant. normally, he’d have something snarky to say, but tonight, he just seemed... sad.

“what’s wrong?” you set your glass down and stepped closer, placing your hand on his arm instinctively, your thumb brushing over the fabric of his shirt in a small, comforting gesture. it was second nature to you, wanting to make him feel better, wanting to lift his mood.

he blinked, as if your touch brought him out of his thoughts, but his expression didn’t change. “i don’t have many layers,” he said quietly, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

you frowned in confusion, unsure what he meant. “what do you mean?” you asked softly, looking up at him with wide, concerned eyes.

“i heard you talking to sarah and john b earlier,” he replied, his voice low, almost strained. “about me... us.”

your heart skipped a beat, and you suddenly felt exposed, like you’d been caught in the middle of something you weren’t ready to confront. “oh,” you whispered, guilt pooling in your stomach. you hadn’t meant for him to overhear that conversation, and hearing that he had made you feel like you’d done something wrong.

“i don’t want you to think i’m complicated,” rafe continued, his voice catching slightly. “i’m not made of layers like you think. i’m just me, y/n. i don’t want you to worry about me or... what could happen.” he looked down, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck, something in his posture sagging like the weight of the words were too much to carry.

you looked up at him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. “rafe, i don’t— i don’t want to hurt you,” you said quickly, your voice as sweet and soft as you could manage. “it’s just... i don’t want things to get complicated. i care about you too much, and i don’t know if i can handle—”

you stopped yourself, realizing how much you were saying, how much you were feeling. you could tell by the look on his face that your words weren’t reaching him the way you wanted them to. He wasn’t looking at you with that familiar mischievous grin, but with an expression that made you feel like he was slipping away.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the guilt settle over you.

rafe didn’t speak for a long moment. he just stood there, looking at you as if he was trying to read your every word, your every emotion. finally, he sighed, stepping back a little. “i get it,” he said quietly, his voice quieter than you were used to hearing. “i’m just not who you need me to be, huh?” he said it like a statement, not a question, and the hurt in his tone made you feel like you’d said the wrong thing.

you opened your mouth to say more, to explain yourself better, but the words felt stuck in your throat. before you could speak, rafe turned and walked out of the kitchen, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

you stood there, your hand still lingering where it had rested on his arm, the warm glass of apple juice forgotten on the counter. you felt a pang of guilt, the kind that settled deep in your chest. you hadn’t meant to hurt him. you just didn’t know how to explain that you were afraid, that you were trying to protect both of you from something that might tear you apart.

you wanted to chase after him, tell him it wasn’t about him, tell him you didn’t mean what you said in the way he took it. but you knew he needed space, and in that moment, all you could do was stand there, the quiet weight of your unspoken feelings filling the space between you.

you couldn’t help but feel like you’d messed up. again.

it had been three long days since you and rafe last spoke. the silence between you was louder than any argument could have been, and it had only made things worse. you hadn’t meant to hurt him, but you couldn’t shake the guilt. you spent the last few days trying to keep yourself busy, distracting yourself with whatever you could, but it hadn’t worked. all you could think about was him—his quiet voice, his distant eyes when he walked away.

you hadn’t heard from him since that night, and it ate at you. every time you passed by tannyhill or saw him with his friends, your stomach twisted in knots, a mix of frustration and regret.

now, you found yourself sitting on the porch with jj and kie, trying to pretend like everything was normal, but it was impossible. you couldn’t focus on the conversation; your mind kept drifting back to rafe.

“rafe’s right there,” jj suddenly said, nudging you with his elbow. you followed his gaze, and sure enough, there he was, leaning against the fence, talking to some of his friends.

you immediately looked away, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to pretend you hadn’t seen him. “i’m not talking to him,” you muttered, your voice sharp and defensive.

jj raised an eyebrow. “why not?” he sounded genuinely curious, but there was an edge of frustration in his tone. “he’s literally standing right there, y/n. you’re gonna keep ignoring him like this?”

you shook your head, your expression hardening as your frustration bubbled up. “he probably hates me by now, jj. why would i talk to him?”

jj scoffed, clearly not buying it. he leaned in a little, his usual carefree energy replaced by something more serious. “hate you? no way. he could never hate you, angel. that guy’s a mess, but there’s no way he hates you. he just... he just needs you to talk to him.”

you rolled your eyes, trying to hide how much his words affected you. “it’s not that simple, jj. you don’t get it. he overheard what i said. he heard how i basically told them i didn’t want anything more with him, and now he’s just... gone. he’s done with me.”

jj shook his head, his usual grin fading into a more sincere expression. “you know that’s not true, right? he’s just as stubborn as you are. he won’t come to you because he’s waiting for you to make the first move. he’s been hurt before, y/n, but he’s not gonna give up on you. not like that.”

you stared at him, your throat tightening. “but what if i messed it up too much? what if he doesn’t want to fix it?”

jj’s voice softened, and for a moment, you saw the seriousness in his eyes. “he’ll never give up on you, y/n. i promise. you two just need to talk. you’re both too stubborn for your own good, but you’re also the only ones who can fix it.”

you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. “i don’t even know what to say to him anymore, jj. i don’t know how to fix this.”

jj gave you a knowing look, his expression softening. “just tell him the truth, y/n. he’s your friend. he cares about you. and you care about him, even if you’re scared of it.” he grinned a little, trying to lighten the mood. “go on, make him listen to you. he’s a big ol’ puppy when it comes to you.”

you didn’t know what it was—whether it was the way JJ had said it or the gentle push from him—but something in you finally snapped. You weren’t sure how things would go, but maybe it was time to stop running away from it all.

With a deep breath, you stood up, brushing the dirt off your jeans. “fine,” you muttered, glancing over at jj. “but if he shuts me down, i’m blaming you.”

jj chuckled and gave you a playful shove as you walked past him. “good luck, angel. he won’t shut you down.”

as you made your way toward rafe, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. this wasn’t going to be easy. you weren’t sure what you were going to say, but you couldn’t keep pretending like everything was fine. not anymore.

rafe didn’t notice you approaching at first, but when he finally looked up, his expression softened. there was still a hint of distance in his eyes, but something in his posture relaxed as he saw you walking toward him.

you stopped in front of him, taking a deep breath. “rafe,” you started, your voice quiet but steady. “i need to talk to you.”

rafe didn’t speak for a moment, just looking at you like he was trying to figure out what to say. you wanted him to say something, anything, but he just stood there.

“y/n,” he said simply. no nickname, no playful jab. just your name, the way no one ever called you. your breath caught in your throat, and for a second, you froze. rafe never called you by your full name. it was always sweet girl or cupcake, something casual, something easy. but now, he was looking at you with that same intensity, only now it felt different. more serious.

it hit you then—he had been listening, really listening, to everything you had said. and you felt it deep in your chest.

“rafe, i... i’m sorry for what i said.”

“i’m just... scared,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. you bit your lip, trying to find the right words. “after my last relationship, i... i don’t know how to do this. how to let someone in, i mean. i was hurt so badly, and i don’t want that to happen again. but i also don’t want to lose you.”

the air between you two felt heavy, charged with everything left unsaid. rafe didn’t say anything at first, just let the silence linger as he took in your words. his eyes softened, and you saw the hurt in them, the frustration from everything that had been left unresolved.

“you never gave me a chance, y/n,” rafe said quietly, his voice full of a tenderness you didn’t expect from him. still, the way he said your name almost made you cry.

“i’ve been here the whole time. i didn’t want to make things harder, but i wanted you to see that i care. that i’ve always cared.”

your heart thudded in your chest, and you felt the weight of his words settle deep within you. you sighed, looking down at the ground for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “i don’t want things to go back to normal, rafe. i don’t think it can,” you said, your voice tinged with sadness. “i don’t think i can just go back to being... whatever we were before.”

rafe stepped a little closer, closing the space between you two. there was a fire in his eyes now, a resolve that made you pause, holding your breath. “it doesn’t have to be normal anymore, y/n,” he said softly, but firmly. “we don’t have to go back to what it was. i just want one date. just one. to see where it goes. no expectations, no pressures. just us.”

you stared at him, your heart in your throat. it was so simple, so direct, and yet it felt like everything you’d been afraid of. but maybe it wasn’t so scary after all. you couldn’t deny the connection between you two, even if it scared you more than anything.

finally, you nodded, the tightness in your chest easing just a little. “okay. one date,” you agreed, your voice small but steady. “we’ll see how it goes.”

rafe’s lips curled into a small, genuine smile, and you could see the weight lifting off his shoulders. it was like a relief washed over him, and the tension that had been there for so long finally began to fade.

he reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle but lingering. “i promise i’m not going anywhere, sweet girl,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “we’ll figure this out.”

you smiled back at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. you had no idea where this would go, but for the first time in a while, you felt like it might just be worth the risk.

you felt the weight of the past few days lift off your shoulders as rafe gave you a reassuring look, and you knew—whatever happened next, you’d face it together.

and just like that, what started as tension and uncertainty turned into something simple and real. one date. a chance for something new.

and maybe, just maybe, it could work out this time.

2K notes · View notes

tgms · 6 months ago

Text

hitting it raw!

— letting wind breaker boys hit it raw for the first time (wc: 4.3k)

sakura haruka, suo hayato, togame jo, kaji ren, umemiya hajime (separate) x fem reader

contains explicit nsfw content, minors do not interact

tw: creampie, hair pulling, oral (m and f receiving), overstimulation, cum swallowing, squirting, pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, good girl, angel), dacryphillia, toys (vibrator), light choking, semi-public sex (restaurant bathroom), unprotected sex, size difference, belly bulge, mentions of birth control pills

sakura haruka (wc: 0.8k)

⸻ oral (m receiving), hair pulling, cum swallowing, unprotected sex

“don’t-” sakura grunted, hips jolting up as you took him deeper into your mouth. he reached down blindly, hands finding your hair and tugging hard in an attempt to pull you off him.

you moaned at the feeling instead, the vibrations causing him to jerk up into you again. one hand came up to squeeze his balls as you eased the rest of his cock down your throat, stopping only when your nose was nestled in the hair at the base of his length. he opened his eyes to the sight of you blinking up at him prettily, and the image alone had him coming undone.

his breath hitched, groans echoing from above you. he threw his head back and brought an arm up to cover his eyes as thick ropes of cum shot down your throat.

you released his dick with a loud pop!, grinning up at him from your kneeling position between his legs. you opened wide, tongue lolling out to show not a single drop of cum after swallowing the load he released in your mouth.

“i—” sakura swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to even out his breathing. “i told you not to swallow…” he grumbled, willing his head to lean forward so he could get a better look at your face. his other hand remained in your hair, smoothing down the pieces that stuck up. you kissed his tip gently, giggling when his hips jerked at the movement.

“you’re still hard,” you noted, resting your head on his thigh, palm cushioning your cheek. “wanna go again or need a break?”

sakura’s ears flushed red, brows scrunching together in embarrassment. “you haven’t cum yet,” he scowled. you grinned at his response, finding how angry and sensitive he gets post-nut cute. you let him know as much, and watched as the rest of his face heated up. “just—give me a second. can’t feel my damn legs.”

“i can go on top,” you offered, not waiting for a response and shimmying your bottoms down your legs. sakura’s eyes zeroed in on the wet spot on your panties, mouth instantly going dry.

he stared in wonder at the string of slick connecting your underwear to your core, mind going numb at the way you straddled his lap. your fingers made quick work of stretching yourself out, and he felt himself grow harder, if possible. his eyes locked onto your hand, following your movement until you held your slick-coated fingers up to his face. almost unconsciously, he opened his mouth and whimpered at your taste.

deeming yourself ready, you lined up sakura’s cock to your entrance, giggling to yourself at the way his eyes seemed to roll to the back of his head.

“wait, grab a—oh, fuck,” he grunted out at the feeling of your wet heat enveloping his bare cock. you sunk down slowly, pausing every few seconds to let yourself adjust to his size. “get off—‘m not wearing a condom.”

you ignored him, eyes focused on the way your hole sucked him in. sakura’s hands found their way to your waist, squeezing in warning at the way you rut your hips against his.

“oh, you like it raw, huh?” you teased, gasping when the blunt head of his cock nudged the sensitive spot inside you. you continued moving slowly, opting to circle your hips over bouncing on his cock.

suddenly, you found yourself on your back on the floor, the buttons of your forgotten skirt digging uncomfortably into your shoulder. sakura hovered over you, arms shaking in exertion and breaths coming out in heavy pants. the way you were grinding on him almost sent him over the edge, balls tightening at the way your tits moved over him. he couldn’t help the way he manhandled you, any more and he would’ve came in seconds.

“wait,” he breathed out, forehead leaning down to rest on your collarbones. you felt so tight and wet, pussy squeezing him in a vice grip. your arms circled his neck, fingers playing with the hair at his nape, tugging slightly at his lack of movement.

“i said i’d go on top,” you complained, lifting your hips up in an attempt to get some sort of friction from sakura’s still body.

“and i said wait,” he repeated, body slowly beginning to move against yours. you let out a small moan at the feeling of his cock dragging through your walls, trailing off into a high pitched gasp at the feeling of his fingers on your clit. “acting like no condom wasn’t a big deal,” he growled out, hips snapping roughly against yours. you squealed at a particularly rough thrust, fingers tightening in his hair as you pulled.

“feels good, doesn’t it, haru?” you cooed out, clenching as hard as you could. his thrusts stuttered, a hand coming up to steady himself against you.

“enough,” he breathed against your neck. “let me make you feel good too.”

suo hayato (wc: 0.9k)

⸻ edging, hair pulling, toys (vibrator), dacryphillia, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl)

you thought you knew better than to accept any kind of challenge or proposal from your boyfriend, knowing that every idea that ever left his head was usually for his own benefit. but for once, you were determined to win a bet.

for the past what felt like hours, you had been trapped under suo, writhing as he held a vibrator to your clit and his tongue explored inside you.

the promise of raw sex on the condition that you don’t cum had you holding on to your last shred of sanity, eyes clouded over but focused on a shadow on the ceiling. you’re sure the bedsheets were soaked underneath you, the slick feeling of your juices running down your thighs and almost to your knees.

“five more minutes,” suo mused from between your legs, the bottom half of his face shining, covered in your slick. “you’re doing better than i expected, aren’t you?”

you whimpered in response, knowing that not responding at all would have suo doing everything he could to make you cum. he grinned at the sound, diving back into you and clicking the vibrator to a higher setting. your body jerked up, but the one hand holding your hip kept you from jolting into suo’s mouth.

“uh-uh,” he tutted, pulling away from you. you whined at the loss of contact, but made sure to keep your hips planted firmly on the bed. if you even attempted to chase after his fingers or mouth, you’re sure he would’ve edged you for a few more hours. “you were so close, there. what a shame.”

suo made quick work of flipping you over, chuckling at the hazy look in your eyes. you hardly noticed the way he manhandled you, head reeling from the orgasm he ripped away from you. but the familiar rip of foil behind you brought you back to reality, head whipping back to stare at suo holding a condom.

“hayato…” you whined, tears lining your eyes. “but you promised you wouldn’t…” he had you bent over, one hand running up and down your side while the other held your wrists together behind your back.

“i don’t know, sweetheart,” suo teased from behind you, the hand caressing you paused to pinch your skin. “you also said you wouldn’t move at all.”

“i didn’t! p-please,” you hiccuped, tears already streaming down your face and smudging your mascara. “didn’t cum at all… promised i wouldn’t.”

you felt a hand come up to gently swipe underneath your eyes, unaware of the way suo’s pants tightened at the sight of your tears.

“i know,” he said simply. “if i wanted you to cum, you would’ve. try again and ask nicely.”

“wanna cum on your cock,” you choked out, words garbled with the steady stream of tears. “please don’t use it…” your voice trailed off into light sobs, eyes focused on the condom and hands attempting to break out of his hold.

“that wasn’t hard, was it?” suo relented, taking pity on you. he slipped the open packet into one of your hands, relishing in the way you crumpled it in your grip and the dopey smile that appeared on your face.

the sound of his zipper already had you salivating. he still held your hands together behind your back, so you could only imagine what he was doing to finally free his aching cock.

you could feel him behind you, his leaking tip lining up at your entrance and thrusting in in one smooth movement. the high you’ve been chasing for the past hour finally came when he bottomed out, cock nudging at your cervix. your head fell forward, mouth dropping into a soundless scream while your pussy fluttered and squeezed around his dick.

he released your hands in order to hover himself over you fully, your own following to grip his wrists loosely.

“look at that…” you heard him mutter lowly, breath fanning across your shoulder. “you’re making a mess on my bed, pretty girl. i barely stuffed you and you already came.”

you pressed your cheek into the sheets, trying to catch your breath as you lay still for a moment. you gasped at the feeling of your head being lifted, suo’s hand buried into your hair as he turned you to face him.

“you want more?” he asked, pulling his hips all the way back until only the tip remained in you, before slamming all the way back in, balls hitting your clit in the perfect spot. your head fell slack again, drool dribbling from the corner of your mouth at the feeling. suo repeated his ministrations, snapping his hips into yours and leaning over to get a better look at your fucked out expression. “i asked a question.”

“wan’ more…” you slurred out, tongue lolling out as suo subtly angled his hips to hit the sensitive spot inside you. “want y’re cum inside…”

he stilled at that, dropping your hair and pushing your face into the bed. out of the corner of your eye, you could see the hand supporting himself grip onto the sheets tighter, knuckles almost turning white.

“better make sure you don’t regret that then, sweetheart.”

togame jo (wc: 0.8k)

⸻ overstimulation, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, squirting, pet names (baby, doll)

“y’look so pretty like this, baby,” togame whispered into your thigh, teeth lightly grazing over the sensitive skin. his eyes locked onto your glistening folds and he grinned, lightly blowing air on your sensitive clit. you jolted under the movement, a small whimper escaping from your lips.

“jo,” you hiccuped, spent from the previous orgasms he pulled out of you. you wriggled under his grasp, hands reaching down to tug his hair, a sad attempt of getting him to face you properly. “want you…”

taking pity on you, togame lifted himself up and hovered over you, arms caging you in as he pressed a light kiss to your lips. his cock slid against your core, blunt head occasionally catching your clit. you moaned softly, hips bucking against his in an attempt to create more friction.

“you already have me,” he grunted, eyes locked on to where you touched, entranced with the way your juices soaked his cock.

“want more,” you whined, hands coming up to dig into his shoulders. he hissed at the way your acrylics dug into his skin, already anticipating the marks you’d leave behind. not that he minded, though. “want you inside,” you moaned, legs moving to wrap around his waist and lock him in place.

he hissed at the feeling of your pussy pressing his cock to his abdomen, a big hand coming in between your bodies to press you down against the bed. he ignored the whimper you made at the loss of contact, instead leaning down and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. “can’t today, baby. we’re out of condoms,” he whispered against your lips once he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you.

“don’t care, i wanna feel you,” you whispered back, turning your head slightly to press light butterfly kisses to his face.

togame short circuited at your words, thoughts of your pussy dripping with his cum instantly plaguing his mind. his hips stuttered against yours before halting completely, cock pressing directly against your clit.

“don’t say that,” he groaned, head falling forward to rest against yours. “can’t control myself if you say shit like that.”

you squirmed under his weight, hands weakly pushing at his shoulders to get him to look at you. you couldn’t push him even if you tried, but you looked so pretty trying to get his attention that he lifted himself up anyway.

“why not?” you blinked up at him, tears of frustration gathering in your waterline.

togame groaned again, simultaneously feeling turned on and guilty at the thought of you crying. “don’t think i can pull out, baby.”

“who cares?” you pouted, a few tears escaping and trailing down your cheek. “can’t you just cum inside?”

he shuddered at your words, cock somehow getting bigger. he could never say no to you. “you sure?”

you nodded, still hiccuping from the tears while your hands looped around his neck. “want you inside now.”

togame couldn’t control himself any longer, the image of your spent pussy pushing out his seed plagued his mind. instantly, he had your legs tossed over his shoulders and sheathed himself inside you in one thrust.

you squealed at the intrusion, the new position allowing him to reach deeper than he usually does. the lack of protection between you had you feeling extra sensitive, the vein on the underside of his cock dragging against your entrance every time he thrusted in.

“you’re so wet,” he groaned, throwing his head back. your pussy fluttered at his deep voice, walls clamping down on him. “fuck, did you just get tighter? don’t—don’t squeeze me like that, baby.”

“‘s deep,” you slurred, mouth falling open when he tapped them. you closed your lips around the three fingers he gave you, moaning and salivating at the feeling of two holes being stuffed.

his other hand was positioned between you, heavy thumb resting on your clit, pressing extra hard when he thrusted back inside you. in no time, you felt your nth orgasm approaching, but this one felt a little different than the ones from earlier.

“wait! ‘s too much!” you moaned out, eyes snapping open and hands situating themselves on togame’s abdomen as you tried to push him away. “y’re too big, feels funny!”

he angled his hips slightly, rutting against the sensitive spot inside you as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. the pressure of his cock dragging along your walls and his thumb on your clit had you seeing stars. your orgasm came crashing down on you, pussy forcing togame’s cock out of you as you gushed, juices covering his abdomen.

“shit, you’re so messy,” he groaned, watching in awe at the mess you made. he spread your legs again, easing himself back inside your fluttering hole. your body shook at the overstimulation, whining at the feeling of his cock filling you again

“you said you wanted to feel me, doll,” togame said, pausing to lick a long stripe up your ear. “stay nice and still for me, ‘kay? we’re not done til your pretty cunt’s filled with my cum.”

kaji ren (wc: 1.1k)

⸻ semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of birth control pills

“cut it out,” kaji hissed, one hand coming up to squeeze your jaw as a warning while the other tried to stop your fingers from undoing his pants zipper. the two of you squeezed in on the same side of a booth in some family restaurant downtown, but the sight of him punching a creep who tried hitting on you earlier had you squirming and squeezing your thighs together the whole walk there.

“y’re really trying to do this now?” he muttered in disbelief, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“but you looked so good earlier,” you mumbled out, cheeks still squished together. “we haven’t fucked in, like, a week. missed your dick.”

an audible crunch echoed in the area, you tilted your head up slightly and watched as he swallowed thickly before spitting out the stick of his lollipop on the table.

“you keep doing this shit,” he groaned, ears turning red. “couldn’t’ve waited til we got home? fucksake,” despite his words, kaji adjusted his grip from your hand to your wrist, roughly pulling you up and dragging you to the restroom in the back, weaving through tables, over stray bags and a few legs sticking out.

he pushed the bathroom door open unceremoniously, eyes doing a quick sweep of the area before he turned to you for approval. “clean enough?”

your heart swelled at the consideration and you had half the mind to actually start swooning. instead, you pressed yourself into his back, smiling at his behavior before nodding. “mhm. you’re so cute.”

you could feel him stiffen in front of you, grip on your wrist tightening enough to hurt, before he slammed you against the closed door. his lips attached to yours, tongue forcing your lips open as a hand snaked down to your other lips.

he paused his movement eyes widening at what he felt under your skirt. “why are you wearing this shit…?” he mumbled, feeling lace and a concerning amount of fabric—barely any, to be exact.

“always wanna look my best for you,” you batted your eyes at him, grinning at the way his jaw clenched. the smile slipped off your face at the rip that echoed off the walls. you looked down to see half your panties in kaji’s hand and the other half slowly fluttering down to the floor. you gaped at the sight, jaw dropping in disbelief that your boyfriend actually ripped your underwear.

he ignored you, dropping down to his knees and lifting your skirt up. his eyes were situated on your leaky hole, mesmerized by the juices that were slowly trailing down your thigh.

“don’t have time to stretch you out properly. c’you handle it?” he asked, two fingers already prodding at your entrance. your knees buckled, arms flailing out to catch yourself on the wall to your left.

“s’okay, two’s enough,” you gasped out, feeling him press against the spongy spot inside you. “d’you have a condom? didn’t put a new one after last time.”

it was silent for a second, the squelching from between your legs pausing as kaji patted himself down for his wallet.

“didn’t bring it,” he grumbled. “shoulda waited til we got home.”

you felt your disappointment rise, even more so when kaji stood up and zipped his pants back up.

“wait, actually, can’t we go without it?” you proposed, instantly feeling defensive at kaji’s frown. “‘s not like i’m gonna get pregnant.”

his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“got on the pill last month. can’t you just fuck me now?”

kaji swore under his breath, muttering to himself about how demanding you were, but the bulge in his pants was more than obvious to how he felt.

“keep your mouth shut, got it?” he asked, arms looping under your thighs to hoist you up and set you against the sink counter. you gripped onto his shoulders, pressing a kiss into his cheek at the motion.

“you’re the best!” you sang into his ear.

“shut up,” he mumbled, wrestling with his boxers to pull his cock out as you flipped your skirt up. “can’t believe the first time i’m fucking you raw’s in a public bathroom.”

“can’t believe you’re fucking me in a public bathroom,” you countered, gasping when you felt his cock nudge at your entrance.

“you were the one getting handsy out there, i don’t wanna hear shit from you,” and with one swift movement, kaji bottomed out completely.

you let out a loud moan at the feeling, your pussy struggling to take him in due to the lack of prep, walls stretching uncomfortably around his length. “keep going,” you whined when his hips instantly stilled.

“i told you to keep quiet.”

“sorry, ren,” you breathed out, head resting on his shoulder. “been a while. y’feel bigger than usual.”

his grip on your thigh tightened, probably enough to leave hand-shaped bruises. kaji started rutting into you, not fully pulling out but enough for you to start getting used to his size. one of his hands found your clit, causing you to squeal and jerk forward into him. he stopped moving again, his other hand coming up to snake around your neck and squeeze.

“keep your mouth shut,” he rasped, sweat gathering along his forehead and dripping down his neck. he breathed out onto your neck, an attempt at grounding himself.

“you gonna cum? two pump chump?” you teased, breath hitching at the new angle he was thrusting at.

“shut up. y’re fucking tight. ‘m never using a condom again,” he grunted out, panting right below your ear.

his praise went straight to your core, coupled with his strong thrusts and messy circles on your clit, your orgasm crashed down on you. you couldn’t help the moan that ripped its way past your lips, breath getting caught when kaji warningly squeezed your neck.

the lack of oxygen made you dizzy, walls clamping down on kaji at the stimulation. his thrusts became more erratic, cock slamming into you as he shot his load inside. his thrusts slowed as your cunt milked him of the last of his cum, your body twitching from the way he used your body.

“can’t believe you ripped my underwear,” you grumbled, standing up awkwardly in an attempt to keep kaji’s cum inside you. “you owe me a new pair.”

his hands came up to stabilize you, letting you lean into him as you caught your breath. a drop of his cum dripped out of you directly onto the bathroom floor. his eyes locked onto it, trailing up until they landed at the mixture of his and your cum leaking out of you.

shit, was he hard again?

“shut up,” he growled, face heating up. your ripped panties secured in his jacket pocket. “be grateful i didn’t plug you with that shit.”

umemiya hajime (wc: 0.7k)

⸻ size difference, belly bulge, unprotected sex (good girl, angel, pretty girl)

umemiya always thought you were pretty, but something about you in this position, spread out for him, had his heart swelling a little more than usual.

“where do you want me?” he breathed out, gently nosing your cheek and chuckling at the way you murmured his name. his fingers gently traced your folds, relishing in the way your body jerked at his touch.

“‘dun care,” you sniffled, tears pooling in your eyes. “jus’ want you, haji.”

umemiya’s jaw clenched at the admission, and he couldn’t help the way he ground his clothed dick against your exposed core. the friction of his jeans causing you to cry out and grip onto his shoulders.

“take ‘em off,” you whined, one hand snaking down to paw at his belt. “…please.”

“tell me where you want me first, pretty girl,” he cooed, pants getting impossibly tighter at the way you opened your eyes and peered innocently up at him.

“want you everywhere,” you admitted, hands coming up to cover your face as your cheeks heated up.

ume let out a curse under his breath, breath hitching at how cute you were being. you were laid bare for him, everything stripped from your body and multiple orgasms drawn out by him and you still felt shy.

“good girl,” he groaned, hands reaching down to finally remove his pants. despite your previous embarrassment, you sat up and laid your hands over his own, wanting to help him undress.

“wanna help you feel good, too,” you murmured shyly, cheeks heating up. umemiya had to stop himself from throwing his head back and groaning at the sight of you in front of him. “can i?”

“next time, angel,” he choked out, gently pushing you to lay back as he hovered over you. “let me feel you first, yeah?”

he lowered himself, pressing gentle kisses to your face as he began rutting against you, cock sliding messily through your folds. “feels big…” you muttered, pupils dilating the longer you stared at the man on top of you. “can it fit?”

ume felt himself get harder, if that was even possible, at your innocent tone. your teary eyes staring up at him tugged on his heart as he dropped down again to press a deep kiss to your lips.

“i’ll fit,” he’s confident. with how good you’ve been for him all night how could he not be? “trust me and i’ll take care of you, pretty girl.”

you clenched around nothing at the name, pussy already leaking all over his cock. “i trust you, haji,” you whispered out.

“open wide and relax f’me, okay?” his hands pushed your thighs further apart, pussy now on full display. his eyes locked onto your glistening hole, tongue darting out to wet his lips at the sight.

umemiya slowly started to ease himself in, holding himself back from thrusting in completely. the way your walls were stretching to fit him had him dizzy, head spinning from the grip you had on his cock. and the noises you made were downright sinful, whimpers and moans escaping your lips, your hand clamped over your mouth to muffle the sounds—oh, that’s no good.

“don’t hide,” he grunted out, gently bringing your hand down. “i wanna hear those pretty noises.”

he pushed in as much as he could, cock drenched in your juices until he met resistance a little more than halfway in. you squealed at the feeling, head thrown back and back arched as he filled you.

“it‘s too much!” you cried out suddenly, walls seizing against him. he pressed a hand to your belly, eyes widening at the bulge he felt and saw peeking through your skin.

umemiya leaned down to press another kiss to your lips, peppering your face in them as a few tears escapes your eyes.

“you can take it,” he encouraged, groaning at the way you tightened around him. he eased the rest of his length into your heat, smiling at the way he completely disappeared inside you. “good girl—like that.”

he circled a finger lightly around your clit, not expecting it to throw you over the edge. you let out a high pitched moan, head thrashing and nails scratching down his arms as an orgasm washed over you. your walls squeezed him tighter, almost sucking him in.

“you already came, angel?” he asked, breathless from how tight you held on to him. “let me see you do that one more time.”

note: big fat thank u to anyone who made it to the end, hugs for u! kaji’s section being the longest… yeah drinking my clown juice rn. lmk ur thoughts!

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sennamybeloved · 4 months ago

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⛧ SELFSHIPTOBER 2024 ⛧

HELLO ALL! welcome to another year of selfshiptober. i've noticed this is pretty much the 'official' selfship tober event now, which honestly warms my heart! i love seeing what this wonderful community does with my prompts :)

this year, i'm doing things a little differently. EACH DAY HAS TWO PROMPTS ASSIGNED TO IT. the first set is SHIPPY, while the second set is SPOOKY. you may either COMBINE THE TWO PROMPTS TOGETHER or CHOOSE ONE OF THE PROMPTS. the spooky prompts are a bit on the grittier side and probably won't appeal to most, so if you'd like to only use the first set of prompts and completely ignore the second, be my guest! on the other hand, if you prefer the gritter prompts, you can only use the second set of prompts, you can do that too! if you want an extra challenge, you can create a piece that incorporates both of the day's prompts. you can also change your approach depending on how you feel that day!

there are no hard rules for this. YOU CAN START WORKING ON THIS CHALLENGE EARLY, but i encourage you to wait until october to post anything. YOU CAN ALSO CONTINUING WORKING ON IT AFTER OCTOBER ENDS! you can drag this shit out into december for all i care. just DON'T OVERWORK YOURSELF PLEASE.

without further ado, LET US PROCEED TO THE PROMPTS!

#1. confession | night.

#2. blanket | flame.

#3. embrace | blood.

#4. apple picking | fog.

#5. all dressed up | blade.

#6. carnival | haunted.

#7. rain | infection.

#8. swim | terror.

#9. music | masquerade.

#10. warmth | claws.

#11. comfort | recovery.

#12. married | ritual.

#13. party | magic.

#14. date night | vampire.

#15. games | hunt.

#16. candy | illusion.

#17. heart | feast.

#18. pining | violent.

#19. shared hobby | potion.

#20. trust | experiment.

#21. snuggle | nightmare.

#22. kiss | scars.

#23. movie night | slasher.

#24. baking | empty.

#25. rest | bandages.

#26. beautiful | grotesque.

#27. decorations | cemetery.

#28. brush | forest.

#29. pumpkin | lantern.

#30. flowers | snow.

#31. halloween | death.

TAG YOUR CREATIONS AS #SELFSHIPTOBER 2024 AND TAG ME IF YOU'D LIKE ME TO SEE! i cannot guarantee interaction as i struggle socially, but i promise i'll look at everything! HAPPY CREATING ♡

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incognit0slut · 3 months ago

Text

Lesson learned

PART 3 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Unit Chief!Spencer x BAU!Reader Your boss decides to teach you a lesson when you question the motivations behind a certain case.

Content: (18+) 6k, breath play, fingering, a little case description, BDSM discussion, softdom Spence but borderlines to dom because hello this is breath play and reader being judgy judgy but don’t worry he’s here to teach you a lesson or two a/n: The initial plan was to make him a hard dom but breathplay is already overwhelming so I decided to go the educational route. I am, by all means, not as smart as him, so there might be some inaccuracy

You would think that after joining the BAU for two years, you’d start to understand the twisted logic of a criminal’s mind. But you don’t. Not really. You’ve dissected motives, uncovered patterns, and profiled suspects more times than you can count, and yet this case makes no sense.

Your eyes go over the photographs pinned to the board again. And again. And again. It’s become almost a ritual now, like maybe if you look at it just one more time, the pieces might finally fall into place. But all you find staring back at you are three victims with the same marks on their necks. There was clearly a sign of struggle, but not one of fear. Not one that fits any pattern you know.

“I don’t get it,” you say. “The profile suggests the victims knew their attacker, but this doesn’t look like anything close to rage. Or brutality.”

Spencer shifts beside you, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours as he leans closer to the board. “It might not have been an act of violence,” he observes thoughtfully. “Not in the traditional sense, anyway.”

You furrow your brow. “If it wasn’t violent, then what was it?”

“The bruising pattern is too symmetrical, and there’s no sign of panic or defensive wounds on their hands. I think there’s a chance the victims might have willingly participated.”

“Willingly?” Your eyes snap at him. “What do you mean, ‘willingly participated’? No one willingly gets strangled.”

He meets your eyes for a second before looking back at the board. “I know it sounds unlikely,” he admits, “but not impossible. See how the bruises are evenly spaced? They wrap around in perfect circles. The pressure is distributed just enough to leave a mark but not to crush the windpipe.“

“Spencer, that’s exactly what happened. The windpipe was crushed.”

“Yes, but not immediately. That’s the point.” He turns towards you again. “The intention wasn’t to kill them outright. The unsub wanted to bring them to the point of unconsciousness but not over it. At least, not at first. He was counting on their trust before pushing it too far.”

You let out a huff. “That’s insane.”

“It might seem that way to you, but it’s not unheard of. Sexual asphyxiation is a consensual act for some people. The lack of oxygen when someone’s airflow is restricted can trigger a euphoric sensation which intensifies pleasure."

You stare at him like he’s just spoken a different language. “So, you're saying they get off on... not breathing?”

“More like they find excitement in giving up that control."

You cross your arms and study him, tilting your head with a skeptical frown. “How do you even know this?”

The corner of his mouth twitches in a half-smile. “I read,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“You have a book on sexual asphyxiation?”

“It’s more comprehensive than that. The book covers a wide range of kinks, fetishes, and other forms of sexual exploration which are considered extreme by societal standards.”

"You’re telling me you read up on BDSM practices in your spare time?”

"I think of it as research,” he replies. “It’s part of understanding human behavior. You can’t afford to be ignorant about the complexities of people's desires."

"Huh." Your eyes travel back to the images again. "You know, I still don't understand. I mean, willingly letting someone cut off your breath? That’s not just trust that’s… I don’t know, crazy?”

His eyes narrow towards you as if he's carefully considering how much to say.

“It's not crazy,” he insists carefully. “For people who engage in it, it’s not only about losing control. It’s about reaching a heightened state of awareness, finding excitement in walking that line.”

"But what if that line gets crossed? What then? How could anyone think that sounds… fun?”

“Well, have you ever tried it?”

“Of course not!” you reply quickly, almost laughing at the absurdity. “Why would I?”

“Then you wouldn’t know,” he counters, his tone calm but pointed, like he’s presenting a fact rather than an opinion. “You can’t really understand the mindset until you’ve experienced it. It’s not something you can fully grasp from the outside.”

"I don’t think I could ever trust someone enough to do that to me."

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right person to trust.”

You scoff. “What? Are you offering?”

You laugh at your own joke, and you expected him to do the same. Or perhaps a quick “Of course not”, even some rambling about how he didn’t mean it that way. But when all you’re met with is silence, your laughter dies down, and your eyes dart back to him.

Spencer’s not looking at you, his eyes are fixed on the photographs pinned to the board. He’s studying the bruises, the faces, the details like he always does, but there’s a stillness in his expression, a tension in the set of his jaw that makes you think he’s considering something else entirely. And for a moment, you’re not sure if he’s really thinking about the victims or the case at all.

Maybe you shouldn’t joke about things like that. He is your boss, after all, and even though there isn’t exactly a strict superior-subordinate dynamic between the two of you—he’s always been more of a peer than an authority figure—you wonder if maybe this time you crossed a line.

Spencer’s eyes remain on the photos for a long, agonizing second, and you think maybe he’s not going to respond at all. But then, slowly, he turns his head and looks at you, and the room suddenly feels impossibly small.

“If I were to offer,” he says quietly, “Would you take it?”

His words knock the breath from your lungs, and all you can do is stare back at him. You don’t know what to make of the question. Was it a dare? A test? Or perhaps something more?

There’s a part of you that wants to laugh it off. The conversation was absurd to begin with, so brushing it away like it’s nothing would feel like the safest option. The easy way out. But there’s another part—one you don’t want to acknowledge—that can’t help but wonder what it would mean to say yes.

What if you did? you ponder.

What would it feel like to trust someone like that?

What would it feel like to trust him?

But before you can reply, the door to the meeting room creaks open, the noise echoing through the dimly lit space of the police precinct. A uniformed officer pokes his head inside.

“Dr. Reid, we found a new lead on the vehicle.”

Spencer’s eyes stay locked on yours for just a beat longer as your heart hammers in your chest. Then, without a word, he nods to the officer, and any trace of whatever passed between you dissolves like it never happened at all.

The next few days turn into a blur. The lead on the unsub’s vehicle takes you across town, a chase that ends with the suspect cornered in an abandoned old house. It’s almost anticlimactic how quickly it all happens—sirens blaring, doors kicked in, and in less than an hour, the unsub is in handcuffs. The case is finally closed, and it’s the kind of victory that usually brings a sigh of relief.

But today, you can’t find that peace.

Back at the precinct, the rest of the team has already moved on to debriefing. You’re left cleaning up the mess of photographs and notes scattered across the table. But your movements are slow, distracted, your fingers fumbling over the papers. There’s a prickling awareness that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you know exactly why.

It’s because Spencer is watching you. You don’t even need to look to feel the weight of his gaze. He’s leaning casually against the doorframe, hands tucked in his pockets, but there’s nothing casual about the way his eyes track your movements.

You pause, photos in hand, and finally address him. “What?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he pushes off the wall and starts walking toward you. He stops just short of arm’s length.

“Have you thought about what we discussed the other day?”

You feel a rush of embarrassment, and the awkwardness of the moment makes you shift uncomfortably. Clearing your throat, you turn your attention back to the table, hastily grabbing a stack of photographs and shuffling them into a folder.

“We didn’t discuss anything,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. “It was just a joke.”

“Was it? You don’t joke about things like that unless you’ve thought about them at least a little.”

You let out a dry laugh, keeping your eyes firmly on the table. “I wasn’t being serious. We were in the middle of a case, and we were all exhausted. I just said whatever came to mind.”

Spencer tilts his head, the way he does when he’s analyzing something, his eyes flickering over your face as though he’s cataloging every twitch of your expression.

“Maybe,” he concedes, and takes another step forward. “But the offer wasn’t a joke, and you didn’t say no.”

Your fingers freeze over the photographs, the papers crinkling under your touch.

“I didn’t say yes either.”

You mentally wince at how weak that sounds, almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself. You slowly look up at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but all you find are those intense brown eyes staring back at you.

It unnerves you how calm he is, how easily he’s holding this conversation when your mind is spinning in a million directions.

“You do realize what you’re offering?” you start to press, feeling the need to put it out in the open. “What this means?”

Spencer doesn’t flinch, doesn’t break eye contact for a second. “I do.”

“Do you? Because it seems to me like you might be taking this too lightly."

“I’m not taking it lightly. I’m acknowledging that there’s more to it than what you’re seeing on the surface.”

“And what makes you think I want to see beyond the surface?”

He leans in closer. Close enough to feel the warmth of his breath, but not enough to cross any boundaries. “I’m offering a perspective, not forcing you to accept it. Understanding doesn’t always come from reading about something. It comes from experience.”

You can’t quite decide if his words make sense or if they’re completely absurd. It’s like he’s challenging your logic, your assumptions, but at the same time, there’s a strange clarity to what he’s saying.

“Why does it matter so much to you?”

Because he’s your boss? Because someone in his position always tries to make sense of everything for everyone else?

“Because shaming people for their interests, for something they might find pleasure in… it isn’t fair, and it isn’t right.”

Now that was something you didn’t expect him to say.

“I wasn’t shaming,” you protest quickly, the words coming out defensive even to your own ears. “I was just…”

“Curious,” he finishes for you. “And curiosity isn’t a flaw. Neither is wanting to understand, and if you’re willing to explore that curiosity, then I’d rather you experience it in a way that’s safe. That you know is controlled.”

“So what?” you snap back. “You want to prove me wrong? Show me I’ve been looking at this the wrong way?”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, but it’s not playful. It’s gentle, almost thoughtful, as if he’s carefully weighing each word. “No,” he says softly. “I don’t want to prove you wrong. I want to teach you.”

You blink at him. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out at first, the words tangled somewhere between shock and disbelief. It takes a few seconds until you manage to find your voice.

“You… want to teach me?”

“A lesson, if you will,” he explains, and the way he says it—so calm, so certain—makes your heart stutter. “Not to prove you wrong, but to help you understand. You have your perceptions about… control and trust. I think the only way to really understand is to experience it yourself.”

You don’t know what to say, what to do, and all that comes out is a shaky, barely-there laugh.

“A lesson,” you repeat, trying to make sense of the concept.

He nods, and there’s no pressure in his voice, just an offer. Simple and clear. “But only if it’s what you want.”

You aren’t sure what to feel, much less what to say, and the uncertainty must show on your face. Sensing your hesitation, Spencer takes a step back, giving you space.

“It’s a lot to consider, and I’m not expecting an answer now. But the offer still stands… whenever you’re ready.”

And with that, he gives you one last smile and turns away, leaving you alone with your conflicted thoughts.

You’re pacing in your hotel room, your footsteps muffled by the worn carpet as you make the same path back and forth over and over again. Every time you try to sit down, your leg bounces with restless energy, so you’re back up again, moving without purpose but unable to stop.

You tell yourself it’s just stress. The case, the pressure, the weirdness of being in a small-town motel with creaky walls and awful lighting. But you know better. You know exactly what’s got your mind spinning and your stomach doing flips.

Spencer. And his damn offer.

You scoff to yourself, trying to laugh it off like you always do, but the joke doesn’t land when it’s just you, alone with your thoughts. And, really, what’s the harm in admitting the truth—to yourself, at least? That maybe the whole concept doesn’t seem as insane as it did a few days ago. That maybe you’ve found yourself wondering what it would feel like to trust someone that much.

You stop pacing, staring at your reflection in the mirror across the room. There it is, that nagging curiosity, that flicker of intrigue that Spencer saw before you even knew it was there. You let out a sigh, the weight of the realization hitting you.

God help you, but you’re actually curious.

And that might just be the scariest part of all.

You slip into your shoes and take a deep breath before stepping into the hallway. The motel’s quiet, most of the rooms dark as you walk past, and for a moment you hesitate, wondering if this is a mistake. The team’s staying one more night here, the last bit of downtime before flying back tomorrow. A chance to decompress, to shake off the adrenaline of the case. Yet here you are, anything but relaxed, heading out because you can’t stand one more second of pacing back and forth.

Your footsteps come to a stop outside Spencer’s room, and you stare at the numbers on the plaque for a moment. You could turn around right now. You could pretend you didn’t walk all the way down the corridor with his words echoing in your head. But as much as you try to convince yourself that walking away is the logical choice, your hand moves on its own, and you knock.

Spencer doesn’t look surprised when he opens the door. Without waiting for an invitation, you push past him, barging into the room before you change your mind.

“If we’re going to do this, I have some ground rules,” you blurt out, the words rushing out all at once. “I don’t know what you think this is going to be like, but I need control over some things. Non-negotiable.”

He closes the door with a soft click. “Of course,” he responds calmly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“First,” you say, spinning around to face him. “I’m in control of when this starts and when it stops. If I say no, then we stop. Immediately. No questions, no convincing, none of that.”

“Absolutely.”

“Second, I need to know exactly what we’re doing. No surprises. You explain everything to me before we do anything.”

He quickly nods.

“And third… this doesn’t leave this room. We don’t talk about it to anyone else. Not tomorrow, not next week, not ever.”

He takes a step forward towards you. “This stays between us.”

You let out a shaky breath, the adrenaline settling into a nervous, thrumming pulse beneath your skin. “Okay,” you mumble, more to yourself than to him, trying to process the reality of what you’ve just laid out. “Those are my rules.”

Spencer takes another step forward, close enough now that you can smell the faintest trace of him. A mix of something clean and warm, like soap and worn cotton, an understated scent that’s distinctly him.

“Then those are the rules we follow,” he reassures you. “Your terms. Your pace.”

“Thank you.”

He nods his head again. “Is there anything else you want to discuss?”

There is, actually. There’s a question that’s been hovering in the back of your mind. It feels awkward to say out loud, but the uncertainty gnaws at you, and finally, you force the words out.

“Are we… are we going to have sex?”

He holds your gaze. “Do you want to have sex?”

You go quiet again, letting the silence settle around you as you think about what you want, what you came here for. You slowly shake your head. “No,” you reply. “No, I don’t.”

“Then we won’t. There’s more to explore in this than just sex.”

“Right, that’s—good.” You clear your throat. “I have… one more question.”

He gestures for you to continue.

“You’re not going to fire me for this, are you?”

His soft chuckle fills your ear, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him genuinely smile tonight. “No,” he confirms, amusement flickering in his eyes. “I’m not going to fire you. Whatever happens between us won’t affect your work, I promise.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling a little of the weight lift off your shoulders.

“Okay, so… now what?”

“Now,” he says gently, “We take it slow.“

He guides you toward the edge of the bed, and you find yourself moving automatically, sitting down on the mattress. The bed creaks slightly as he settles beside you.

“If we’re going to do this,” he starts, turning slightly to face you. “I want you to be comfortable. And that means talking. You can start by telling me what you’re thinking. ”

“That’s… it? We’re just going to talk?”

Spencer’s mouth lifts into a soft smile. “Yes,” he confirms, “If that’s what you want. There’s no pressure to do anything else.”

The idea of just talking feels safe, but there’s also a flicker of curiosity that you can’t quite shake. You shift on the bed.

“What if I want to do something more?”

Spencer’s eyes search yours, and he doesn’t move closer, doesn’t do anything that could make the moment feel rushed. “If you want to, then we can. Something simple to start.”

Your fingers trace the fabric of the bedspread. “Like what?”

“Something small. It could be as simple as letting me guide your breathing. A way to practice trust without anything overwhelming.”

You swallow, the idea feeling both intimidating and oddly… reassuring. There’s comfort in the way he talks about it, the lack of pressure, and the way he makes it feel like there’s nothing to fear.

“Okay,” you agree softly. “Let’s try that.”

He moves a little closer to you. “We’ll take it slow,” he promises. “Try to focus on your breathing and follow my lead.”

You close your eyes, feeling your breath shallow and quick, your heart racing as you try to find a steady rhythm.

“Take a deep breath,” he instructs softly. You inhale deeply, feeling the air fill your lungs, and when you open your eyes for a moment, you find his face inches from yours.

“Good. Now let it out… slowly.”

You follow his lead, exhaling, and you can’t help but notice he’s mirroring your breathing—his chest rising and falling in time with yours. It’s oddly comforting, and a little unnerving, like he's syncing with the rhythm of your pulse.

“Again,” he guides. “Deep breath in… hold for a count of three… then let it go.”

You do as he says, feeling your nerves steady slightly with each breath. In, hold, out.

“You’re doing really well,” he murmurs, leaning just a fraction closer. His lips are so close that you can feel his breath brushing your skin. “I’m going to ask you something, but I need you to know you can say no. At any point.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Can I touch you?” he asks gently, his words so soft they almost melt into the air around you. “Just on your shoulder, or your hand. I want to see how you feel about being touched while you focus on your breathing.”

Your heartbeat thuds in your ears, but you manage another nod. His hand moves carefully to rest on your shoulder, but even with the light pressure, you feel your body stiffen. Spencer notices immediately.

“You’re tense,” he observes, his thumb brushing lightly against your shoulder.

You let out a small laugh, one that comes out more like a nervous exhale than anything close to amusement. “It’s kind of hard not to be,” you admit. “I guess I’m a little nervous.”

“That’s okay. It’s completely normal to feel nervous.” He pauses for a second before continuing, his tone thoughtful, like he’s considering what might actually help. "There are a few things that can help when you’re feeling this way. One of them is focusing on your breathing, which we’re already doing. But there’s also physical touch."

"Physical touch?”

"Kissing, for example," he explains, “can actually help regulate your nervous system. It releases oxytocin, lowers cortisol levels. Basically, it signals your body to relax."

Your eyes fall on his lips. "Really?"

A flicker of a smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, but it’s only helpful if it’s something you feel comfortable with.” He tilts his head slightly, studying you. “Would you like to try?”

You meet his gaze again and, before you can overthink it, find yourself nodding, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. “Yeah… okay. We can try.”

Before you even finish the sentence, Spencer leans in, his lips brushing yours with the kind of gentleness that catches you off guard. It's soft at first, like he’s testing the waters, and you can feel the slight hesitation in his movements as if he’s making sure you’re comfortable. It’s sweet, almost too sweet, and for a second, you wonder if this is how he kisses—gentle, thoughtful, deliberate.

But as the kiss deepens, you feel the warmth of him pulling you in. Your heart’s doing this erratic thing where it skips every other beat, and your mind’s racing to catch up with what your body’s already starting to enjoy. And sure, maybe the science behind this kiss makes sense after all, because there’s a part of you that’s actually relaxing, even with the buzz of nerves still humming beneath the surface.

Then he pulls back, just enough for your lips to barely part, his breath warm against your skin. “How are you feeling?”

It takes three heartbeats to find your voice. “Uh... yeah, good,” you manage, a little breathless, a little more flustered than you’d like to admit.

“Do you want to keep going?”

You pause, thinking it over, and despite the swarm of nerves in your chest, curiosity wins out again. You nod, maybe a little too quickly. The moment you do, Spencer leans in again, and this time his kiss is deeper, more intent. The softness is still there, but there’s a quiet intensity in the way his lips move against yours, the way his hand lightly cups the back of your neck.

Then his tongue brushes lightly against your lower lip, and a ripple of goosebumps spreads across your skin. You part your lips for him, and the sensation of his tongue slipping past m has you gripping the fabric of his shirt a little tighter.

Just when you think you’re getting used to it, his hand shifts, sliding up to wrap gently around the front of your neck. Not tight, not restricting—just enough to make you aware of it. The warmth of his palm against your throat sends a jolt of something sharp right through you. He seems to notice instantly, and without pulling his hand away, he breaks the kiss.

“Are you okay?” His thumb gently strokes the side of your neck. “I don’t want to push you, if it’s too much—”

But before he can finish, you shake your head quickly, surprising even yourself with how fast the words leave your mouth. “No, I… trust you.”

His eyes soften at your words, and his grip on your neck stays gentle, almost protective. “Would it be okay if I touched you more?”

Your pulse beats rapidly beneath his fingers, a rhythm you’re sure he can feel, as if your heart is answering for you. “…yes.”

“Do you want to lie down? Would that be more comfortable?”

You feel the heat travel along your veins. “I think… that would be good.”

Spencer nods as he helps you shift back onto the pillow. He stays close but doesn’t crowd you, his hand returning to rest lightly on your neck, that same soft pressure that keeps your heartbeat thrumming in your ears.

“Remember, focus on your breathing,” he reminds you. “The way your body responds is tied to how much you let yourself feel. Trust that.”

His other hand begins to move. His hand trails up toward your shoulder, then lightly brushes over your breast. It’s barely a touch at first, like he’s testing the boundaries, waiting for your body to tell him how far to go. Your breath catches for a second, but when you don’t tense up, he takes that as a sign to continue.

“Is this alright?”

“Yeah,” you manage to whisper, your voice a little breathless than you expected. And, God, you mean it. It’s more than okay—it’s… unexpectedly good in a way that feels almost too intimate to think about.

His hand moves lower now, tracing a path down your side, before sliding gently across your leg. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until you feel his fingers brush against the inside of your thigh.

“How about this?”

You nod, biting your lip as you meet his gaze.

Spencer’s lips curls into the faintest smile. His hand inches higher, moving up your thigh with excruciating slowness until his fingers finally reach the heat between your legs.

Oh. Oh.

Your hips instinctively tilt toward him, your body responding before your mind can even catch up. The heat pooling low in your belly intensifies as his fingers press lightly against you.

“Still with me?”

You nod, but internally, your mind is spinning. He begins to move in slow, circular motions, his fingers dragging against the fabric in a way that makes you bite back a moan. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and you can feel your arousal sticking uncomfortably to your panties. It doesn’t shock you—you know understand how being touched like this will make you wet—but what surprises you is how much more intense it feels when his grip around your neck tightens.

Your breath hitches, and before you can stop yourself, a moan escapes your lips.

He pauses for a moment, his grip relaxing just enough for you to catch your breath. “I want you to feel the difference,” he explains. “The pressure changes everything. It makes you more aware of every sensation, more focused on how your body responds. But if it’s too much, you tell me, okay?”

You nod, your breath still coming in uneven gasps. “I’m good.”

His thumb traces the outline of your jaw. “Do you want me to continue?”

“…yeah.”

His hand travels towards your hips, fingers toying with the waistband of your pants. “Should we get rid of these?”

You don’t have to think about it for long. The answer is already there.

“You can take them off.”

Spencer’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants before tugging it down. But as the fabric pools around your ankles, you hesitate for a second before your hand instinctively reaches for your shirt. You fumble with the hem, glancing at him as you pull it halfway up, your breath coming out in a small, awkward laugh.

“I mean, it’d feel weird to be naked from the waist down and still… you know, fully dressed on top.”

His eyes linger on you, and his reaction is subtly amusing. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Without thinking too much about it, you tug the shirt over your head, tossing it aside. Your bra follows, quickly joined by your panties, and before you know it, you’re lying naked on your boss’s bed.

Or, technically, the bed he’s been sleeping on these past couple of days.

Spencer’s eyes move over you slowly, lingering on the curve of your perky breasts, your smooth skin, and the unmistakable wetness between your thighs. His gaze is careful, appreciative but never lingering too long in one place, like he’s taking you in while still giving you space to breathe.

“You’re so pretty.”

Pretty? The word feels almost quaint given the situation, but the way he says it makes it feel like it’s more than that. Like he’s seeing all of you, the parts you don’t often reveal, and he still thinks you’re beautiful.

And somehow, that simple compliment leaves you more exposed than the fact that you’re lying naked in front of him.

“I can’t believe we're doing this,” you admit, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

His hand brushes along your arm. “You don’t have to overthink it. You’re in control here. We can stop whenever you want.”

“I know.”

He tilts your head with his hand. “Is this okay so far?”

You offer him a smile. “It’s okay.”

His other hand lands on your knee. “Can you spread your legs for me?”

You feel the nerves buzzing beneath your skin, but there’s also a warmth, a curiosity, a pull toward him. You inhale deeply, letting the breath steady your nerves, and then, without letting your mind spiral any further, you slowly part your legs.

His palm glides along your inner thigh, and then he touches you again, only this time, there’s no barrier between you. You can feel the rough pad of his fingertips as they gently caress your folds that it pulls a sharp breath from your lips.

“Does this feel good?”

You nod. It’s more than just good—it’s everything. The way he’s paying attention to every inch of your body is overwhelming in the best way. His fingers trace a slow path along your skin, finally pausing as they brush against you between your folds. Without hesitation, Spencer slides a finger inside you. The sudden stretch pulls a gasp from your lips.

The slick wetness between your thighs coats his fingers almost instantly, and you feel yourself responding to him, opening up in ways you didn’t even know you could. He studies the way his finger moves in and out of your cunt, and the more he touches you, the more your hips begin to move on their own.

He takes your response as a sign to continue.

"I'm going to wrap my hand around your neck again," he tells you, without waiting for more than a slight nod of your head, his fingers curl around your throat.

"The pressure here," he begins, his thumb lightly pressing at the side of your neck. "Isn't just about cutting off your air, it also means restricting blood flow to your brain.”

He pushes another finger inside you, and the increased fullness draws a sharp intake of breath from you.

“By limiting the blood flow like this,” he continues, applying a bit more pressure around your throat. "It triggers your body to release adrenaline and dopamine. That rush you’re feeling? It’s your body chasing euphoria."

Euphoria. You never really thought about it like this before, how something so controlled could unlock a part of your body that felt so overwhelming. The feeling isn’t just pleasure, it’s a raw intensity that borders on something deeper as your cunt clenches around him. Your breath stutters, caught in a sharp contrast between the slow burn in your throat and the urgent heat flaring between your legs.

He’s unraveling you, pulling you apart thread by thread, yet leaving you desperate for the moment he puts you back together again.

You need more.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs soothingly. The words send a new wave of heat rushing through your body. Your hips move restlessly, and you can hear the soft whine escaping your throat, growing louder with each thrust.

Spencer notices immediately, his fingers slowing just for a moment. “Too much?”

You quickly shake your head, almost frantic, the last thing you want is for him to stop. The moment you do, his grip on your throat tightens slightly and your eyes flutter closed as a wave of euphoria washes over you. Head falling back against the pillows, your vision starts to blur. You feel the air restrict in your throat.

“I need you to breathe for me, sweetheart.” His thumb strokes lightly against your neck. “The more you control your breathing, the better it’ll feel.”

That word alone almost undoes you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s meant to be soft and soothing, but instead, it sends a bolt of pleasure straight through you. Your chest rises and falls as you do exactly what he says, because apparently, being called sweetheart with his fingers wrapped around your neck makes you want to obey him, more than you’d care to admit.

"That’s it, keep focusing on your breathing."

You force your eyes open, but everything feels hazy, unfocused. You’re not sure if it's from the lack of air or the way he’s looking at you, but you can feel yourself losing control. Your eyes flutter half-closed again, lips parting in a breathless moan, and before you realize it, your tongue slips out, barely grazing your lower lip.

Spencer knows you’re close. His thumb presses just a little harder against your throat, not enough to stop you from breathing, but enough for your inner walls to grip his fingers tightly.

“I know, I know, I've got you,” he whispers. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Just let go whenever you’re ready."

You can’t decide if the sound of his voice is making it easier or harder to hold on. There’s a brief moment where you think you might hold it together, but then your body betrays you. Your muscles tense, your breath catches in your throat, and all the control you had slips away in an instant. It’s as if your brain is giving in to exactly what he said it would—a surge of chemicals that makes your limbs feel heavy and light all at once.

Your orgasm slams right into you, the most intense thing you’ve ever felt. It floods your senses so completely that your lungs struggle to catch up. The tremors rack your body, and it’s only when your legs give a final, uncontrollable shake that he finally releases your neck, allowing the air to rush back into your lungs in a dizzying, breathless moment of relief.

Before you can fully recover, his lips are on yours in an instant. He moves against your neck, kissing the very spot where his hand had held you. “Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

When you manage to catch your breath and blink through the lingering haze, he lies down on the bed and pulls you into his arms. It takes a whole minute before your breathing fully steadies, his hand stroking your hair the entire time.

“How are you feeling?”

You don’t know what to make of it all, so you laugh breathlessly instead, the only response you can muster.

“Like I’m about to pass out.”

“What?” He looks at you in alarm. “You are?”

You shake your head quickly, offering him a small smile. “No, no, I’m fine. It’s just… it was really intense.” But the worry doesn’t completely leave his face, so you try again, placing your hand on his chest. “Good intense. I’m okay, I promise.”

He lets out a slow breath and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “So I take it you liked it?”

A flush of embarrassment washes over you, and you can’t quite meet his eyes as you nod. “Yeah… I did,” you admit, your voice soft, almost sheepish. “Go ahead, you can gloat. Tell me I was wrong.”

Instead of taking the bait, he gently traces his fingers along your neck. “It was never about proving you wrong. The judgment you made that day, about not getting why someone would like this… it’s hard to fully grasp until you feel it yourself.”

“I wasn’t judging,” you murmur, feeling a need to defend yourself.

“Maybe not intentionally,” he says thoughtfully. “When it comes to BDSM, there’s a lot of misunderstanding or assumptions people make from the outside, it’s really more than just control or pain. There’s trust, communication, boundaries. And I think, in a way, that’s what happened tonight. You trusted me enough to let go.”

You’re quiet for a moment, processing what he’s saying. “Are you suggesting I could be into all of this?”

“Not necessarily,” he replies carefully. “But I think it’s possible that there’s more to it than you realize. You trusted me tonight, and that’s the most important part. That’s where it all starts.”

You chew on his words for a second. It’s not something you’d ever considered before, but now that he’s brought it up, you can’t deny that the thought has sparked something.

“So you think I might want to explore this further?”

His lips curl into a soft smile. “It’s not about what I think. It’s about what you want. If you’re curious, then we can explore it together.” He leans in slightly. “Is that you want?”

The spark you felt moments ago? It flickers stronger now. The idea is both thrilling and terrifying, but with him, it feels… possible. Safe, even.

You feel a tightness in your chest.

“I think… maybe, yeah.”

His smile deepens just a fraction. “We’ll take our time,” he reassures you, his thumb brushing lightly over your throat. “We can talk about this when we get back. You need to rest for now.”

You shift closer to him, feeling the rustle of his clothes against your bare skin. “Can I stay here tonight?”

His chin lands on top of your head. “You can stay with me as long as you want.”

What a dangerous offer, you think as you sink further into his arms. But not as dangerous as the way your heart flutters at the thought.

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kyluff · 1 year ago

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— ↺ ‘When He Eat The Cookie He Got Good Form’

✎ luffy + zoro + sanji x reader !

✦ summary ➠ one piece men eating you out blurbs

✦ warnings ➠ nsfw, cunnilingus, swearing, almost getting caught

✦ note ➠ 3000+ LIKES ON MY CLINGY GOJO POST?!? thats actually insane, I’m so happy thank you for all the support 😨🫶

✪ Monkey D. Luffy

— You felt shaking, hands were on you and vigorously pushing and pulling you. Your eyes weren’t open yet, they couldn’t, you were just sleeping a few seconds ago and now you were being rudely awaken. Keeping your eyes closed, you called out for your boyfriend.

“What, what is it Luffy?” You sighed, shoving your face further in the blanket, trying to go back to the time when you were still sound asleep. “It’s still nighttime, go back to bed.”

He whined out, nuzzling his face in your neck. “But I’m hungry.”

Of course he is, you shook your head in annoyance. “That’s what you woke me up for? Wait and eat in the morning like the rest of us.”

Luffy licked your cheek, leaving heavy and warm breaths on it. He always was so impatient when he wanted something, especially when hunger was what he wanted. “But I cant.”

You were shocked, you really shouldn’t be though, he was obsessed with food to point where it was slightly unhealthy. You forcefully shoved his face away from you, making him fall on his side of the bed. “Well too bad, now go to sleep.”

“I can’t, not when I’m so hungry.” He huffed out, sounding defeated by his own words, at least it seemed like he was done with this stunt. But you felt bad a little bit, if he was so hungry that he couldn’t even sleep, then that’s an issue.

“If you’re really that hungry go to the kitchen.” That was the final thing you were going to say, now you were for real going to sleep.

You felt him shuffling beside you and the bed swaying from his movement. It melt like he was moving down the bed, making it to the foot of it. You ignored him, just wanting this to be over.

He disappeared under to covers for a minute, lifting your leg and placing himself between them. “Why would I go to the kitchen? My foods already right here.”

For the first time that night your eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to adjust to the environment. You reached in the dark for the light, turning it on and removing the cloth that separated the two of you, bLuffy was there, resting his cheek on your thigh. He had a lazy and goofy smile on his face like he always did, but his eyes were different. His eyes stared into your soul, hunger definitely evident in his gaze.

“Oh,” That’s all you could say, you had just been waken and had to face this. “You’re that type of hungry.”

The man between your limbs nodded eagerly, relieved that you had finally understood him. He had awoken in the middle of the night and the feeling washed over him, he couldn’t sleep after that, he needed you.

“Well, eat then.” That’s all it took for him rip off your shorts and underwear, revealing you to him. You could never deny your boyfriend, even if it was so late, not when he looked so longingly up at you.

He delve in instantly, not being able to wait any longer. His mouth was wide open against your folds, sucking and nudging them how ever he wished. Luffy didn’t focus on anywhere in particular when he ate you out, he liked to pay attention to every part of you down there, making it a messy operation, your juices spread across his face and everywhere on your thighs.

“Oh-h, so good.” This session Luffy seemed to really want it, he was licking so aggressively and tugged harshly at your lips. You weren’t complaining, the pleasure was almost unbearable.

It wasn’t till he placed a bite on your clit that you felt the beginnings of your end. He’s never done this before, but the new found trick brought you dangerously close to your climax.

“Do it again!” You pleaded, wanting to feel that same sensation from before. And he listened, using his canine to squish your bud, he lapped at the same spot to soothe it. You came undone, Luffy crawled up your body and dropped onto your chest, you noticed he had a soft grin on his face.

“You really were hungry, huh?” Your fingers started playing and twirling mindlessly with his hair.

“Mhm.” He hummed, closing his eyes from the comfort he received at the mercy of your hands. You too shut your eyes, being able to sleep again.

✪ Roronoa Zoro

— If there was one thing you knew about your boyfriend, it was how much he liked eating pussy. He’d eat it from the back, he’d eat it in sixty nine, he’d eat in the shower. He would literally do it anywhere at anytime. A position he hadn’t tried though was you sitting on his face.

So right now, he decided that you were going to sit on his face, but you were having some difficulty with that. You hovered over his awaiting mouth, using the headboard of the bed to hold yourself up.

“Sit on my face already.” He wrapped his buff arms around your thighs, attempting to pull you down on his face.

“Z-Zoro, don’t you think I’ll be to heavy?” You quivered, not letting him win the tug of war you were having.

“Don’t care,” The greened haired man loosened his grip, letting you raise slightly. “Just want to taste you.”

You bit your lip, thinking about how desperate his expression looked, you could tell he really wanted this and who were you to deny? You reluctantly lowered yourself closer to his face, making sure not to have your whole weight on him.

His lips chased yours, coming up to meet your dripping core where it was above him. He slowly made out with it, messily sucking and slurping. He quickly shook his face in your heat, spreading the juices he has created.

“Fucking come here.” His words were muffled against your skin as he forced you to fully sit down on his face. Your cheeked flushed in embarrassment, worrying if you were to much for your boyfriend to bare. You tried to get off, but the strong arms on your legs kept you in place.

“Zoro!” You whimpered, grasp tightening on the wooden frame.

He only carried on, now comfortable with the position you were in, nice and snug to his face. His tongue worked quick and tight circles on your bud, not stopping until he heard a moan rip from your vocal cords.

You glanced down on him through your droopy eyes, he was also looking up at you. His eyes always stood out to you, they were always stern and fierce, staring right through you.

He kept eye contact with you as he face moved deeper into you, his nose becoming smaller in size. Your stomach did flips in response, contracting as you felt tingling down there.

He smiled into you, he could see how much you liked sitting on his face, and to think on how you were so against it before.

His grin became bigger as he noticed how close you were, this might be the quickest he’s ever made you come.

Picking up his pace, he pushed you over the edge until you came undone onto his smushed face. “How do you like the new position now?”

✪ Vinsmoke Sanji

— You were becoming very annoyed at your boyfriends current antics, he’s been at it for what it felt like hours now. You sat on a chair in the kitchen, attempting to enjoy the beautiful meal that Sanji had prepared for you. That task was almost impossible though, due to the man that was positioned at your feet in front your chair.

“For the tenth time, Sanji, the answer is no.” You huffed out, stabbing another piece of food with your fork.

“Please, Y/n! Just one taste!” He begged, smushing his blushing face against your exposed knee. You had decided to wear a skirt today as it was very warm outside, it seemed to have an affect on the blonde man.

“I’m trying to eat, can’t you wait until I’m at least finished?” You wiggled your leg, trying to shake the man attached to your knee off of you.

His grasp became harder, slowing your movements until they stopped totally. His face moved closer, it reached the hem of your skirt where he brought his fingers to fidget with it softly. “I can’t wait, need it right now.”

Normally you wouldn’t put up such a fuss, but you were in the kitchen, anyone could walk in whenever they wanted. “Sanji, what if someone came in? Like if Luffy got hungry and ran in, what then?”

“I’ll be quick, promise.” He started laying quick kisses on your thighs, his eyes still looked at you from below waiting for your response.

You thought about it for a moment, sighing in defeat. “You promise?” He nodded eagerly, eyes filled with lust as he glanced up at you. You nodded your head in agreement, once you gave him the go ahead he immediately flipped your skirt and dived straight in, head disappearing under the flowy material.

At first he kissed you through the cloth that separated him from your bare pussy, his breath was warm when it fanned onto you. He pulled your underwear off, revealing everything to him.

For some reason unknown to you as you couldn’t see Sanji because of your bottoms he paused in his tracks, not going further.

“You said you’d be fast, get on with it and eat me out already.” You gave him time to resume his prior actions but when he refused and stayed in his place, you threw the skirt up off his head. “What are yo-”

“Just admiring my pretty girl.” Anyone would assume that he was referring to you, but you knew what he was talking about and it wasn’t your face. It was your cunt.

“Shut up.” You forced his face into your core, you couldn’t look at him any longer, just thinking about his words made a wave of heat form in your lower stomach.

Your boyfriend didn’t protest, starting to lick long strips up your slit, sucking on your bud when he reached it at the end. He repeatedly did this until he felt your juices slipping everywhere, now your hole was ready for his tongue. He slipped it inside, letting it slowly slide in to its full length.

You whimpered in response, hands flying to his yellow hair. “Keep going.”

He listened to your pleads, swirling his muscle around in circles before pulling out and searching upwards for your buzzing clit. You felt his lips wrap around it, applying suction on it, during all of this the tip of his tongue poked through his lips and flicked at your bud.

“So close, Sanji!” Your legs enclosed on his torso, trapping him. His actions became faster, suction harder and flicking harsher. It was all too much for your aching cunt, your climax was nearing.

Just as you were about to let go, you heard a voice coming from outside the door. “Sanji! I’m hungry when it food going to be ready!?”

“Have some patience Luffy, you pig!” He pulled away to yell at the pirate captain, stuffing his face back in like nothing had happened.

“Sanj-ji he’s going to walk in here!” You felt tears sting your eyes at the stressful situation that had a chance to occur, but the tears were also present in your eyes due to the fact that the feeling from before was back again.

The cook didn’t respond, eating you out the same as before the interruption. You panted, pawing at his locks as you came on Sanjis mouth.

He quickly licked it all up, placing your panties back on and flattened out your skirt to normal just in time before the energetic black haired boy came barreling through the kitchen doors.

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reidmania · 3 months ago

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a moment | s. reid

summary: two times there was a ‘moment’ between you and spencer, and one time he did something about it.

warnings; best friends to lovers, fem reader, pinning, this based off a lorelai and luke edit i saw, idk if its edited or makes any sense tbh!! sorry! longing, kinda self doubt idk, happy ending yay!!

an; this is for lia. And was written in like an hour so i really dont want the hate guys. If it sucks i cannot be held responsible.

You walk into the bullpen, scanning the usual chaos of the bullpen The day’s already running long, and it’s barely even noon.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Spencer says, glancing up from his desk. His eyes are sharp behind his glasses, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. He’s half-hidden behind a wall of case files, as always, but somehow manages to throw his snark with precision.

you and spencer had been best friends since you started together, you got along with anyone but gravitated towards Spencer more than anyone else. Him and Penelope were the easiest for you to be around, you loved everyone but you had your favourites.

While Penelope had been bugging you to either kick up the courage to do something about your friendship with Spencer, or move on, you did neither.

"Oh, save it,," you fire back, tossing your bag on your desk. "I’m fashionably late. It’s a thing."

"Yeah, fashionably late in a profession like this. Very chic. Theres other ways to get here you know — from your house-“

“Don’t even” you cut him off.

“Im just saying if you keep missing the same turn off every time maybe it’s a sign you should be going a different way.” He muttered.

“I didn’t miss the turn off.” You argued. You lied.

“You did.”

“No”

He said your name and you huffed.

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin as you sink into your chair. "Can we pretend, just for today, that you’re not right?"

"Well," Spencer says, leaning back in his chair, "I’m only right about ninety-seven percent of the time. So, technically, you’ve got a three percent chance of being right today. Want to take a gamble?"

You throw a crumpled paper at him. "Your math is annoying."

He catches it, eyes twinkling, and throws it back at you. "Annoying?"

“Yes, annoying. It hurts my head”

It’s easy between the two of you—this banter, this back-and-forth. It always has been, ever since the first case you worked together. Over time, it’s become second nature to tease him, push his buttons, and he always gives it right back. The tension slips away with every joke, but today, there’s something different about the way his eyes linger on you a beat too long, like he’s waiting for you to catch on.

You ignore it. You have to.

"So, what do we have?" you ask, holding out your hand for the file in his lap.

He passes it to you, fingers brushing against yours. It’s brief, but the touch sends a spark up your arm. Your eyes meet for a second longer than necessary, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t know what to say.

Spencer clears his throat, looking back down at the file. "This unsub’s a real charmer. I think he's using manipulation tactics to lure his victims. He’s got a pattern, but it’s subtle. Took me a while to piece it together."

"Took you a while? So, like... five minutes?" You grin, but the edge in your voice is gone, replaced by something softer.

He laughs, a sound that always surprises you because it’s rare, but so genuine. "Try thirty. It was a real struggle."

"Wow. I almost feel bad for you."

His smile fades just a little, and when he looks at you again, there’s that shift. Something hovers between you, just under the surface, where the teasing usually stays. His eyes flicker over your face, and suddenly, you wonder if he’s about to say something else, something that would cross the line you’ve never acknowledged before.

Your heart skips, and before you can stop yourself, you lean forward a little. Your breath catches.

"So..." Spencer starts, but before the sentence can land, your phone buzzes on your desk. The sharp sound breaks the moment like a snapped thread. You jerk back, grabbing your phone.

"Hotch needs us in the conference room," you mutter, more to yourself than him, trying to get a grip on the swirling thoughts in your head. "We’ve got a lead."

Spencer blinks, clearly shaken out of whatever that was, and you stand up quickly, focusing hard on the case and not on the fact that you were about two seconds away from… what? Leaning in? Kissing him?

No. That’s not what this is. This is Spencer.

"Race you to the conference room?" he asks suddenly, the playful lilt back in his voice, but there’s still something lingering behind his eyes, a question neither of you seems ready to ask.

"Race? You’re literally taller than me, that’s cheating. I’m wearing heels!!"

"You can run in heels, can’t you?" He shoots you a smirk, the tension easing just enough for you to relax, even if your heart is still racing.

"Could. But i don't want to damage my gorgeous shoes," you huffed, yet already heading for the door.

"Gorgeous shoes?" He repeated, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah that was actually the name of the shoes when i bought them. They had 'gorgeous shoes' written in big letters across the box." You smiled, tilting your head.

"Really?"

"No."

You make it halfway to the conference room before he catches up, the two of you slipping back into your usual rhythm. But as you walk into the room side by side, the unspoken thing still hangs between you. You don’t talk about it, and maybe you never will, but it’s there.

“Are you still coming over tonight?” He asked, looking down at you, eyes lingering on yours. You nod.

“It’s pizza night. Of course I am.”

And once again, you’re reminded that with Spencer, things have never been as simple as just best friends.

You’re standing in Spencer’s tiny kitchen, flour everywhere. And when you say everywhere, you mean it—on the counters, in your hair, smeared on his cheek where you definitely didn’t mean to slap him with dough earlier.

“This is going really well,” you deadpan, holding up the limp, misshapen pizza dough.

“Um.” He squints as he looks at the mess.

“Well.. you’re the genius who can outsmart anyone but apparently can’t figure out yeast,” you argue, pinning the blame on him. “Is it supposed to look like this?” You muttered, tilting your head.

“I think it’s fighting back. Maybe we’re the victims now.”

You both dissolve into laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt. This was supposed to be simple. Homemade pizza sounded like a cute idea, something easy to do on a night off, but it’s turned into chaos. The dough’s not cooperating, the sauce might be too watery, and you’re pretty sure you added way too much garlic. But that’s what makes it fun.

"Okay," Spencer says, hands raised in surrender. "I officially give up. This dough has outsmarted me."

"You’re giving up? Dr Spencer Reid, defeated by pizza dough?" You snatch the rolling pin from him, trying to take over, but the second you press down, the dough tears. "Okay, maybe it’s smarter than both of us."

Spencer steps closer, leaning over your shoulder to inspect the mess you've made. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and for just a second, everything feels different. The banter pauses. His breath is soft on your neck, his arm brushing against yours as he reaches to touch the dough. Your heart stutters, and you freeze, unsure of what to do next.

But then, with no warning, Spencer flicks flour at you.

"Hey!" you squeal, spinning around to face him, eyes wide. He looks so pleased with himself, a mischievous grin on his face.

"What? You had flour in your hair. I was just trying to help.”

"Sure, you were." You reach for the bag of flour, holding it up threateningly. "I will not hesitate to make this a war, Spencer."

He grins widely, almost daringly.

You grab a handful of flour and toss it at him in retaliation. "You are such a child."

“I’m just helping!” he protests, dodging your attack and grabbing the rolling pin like a shield. His laughter is contagious, and soon you’re both caught up in it, the tension slipping away into something lighter, easier.

You try to swipe more flour at him, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you mid-throw. His fingers wrap around your wrist gently, but the touch sends an unexpected shiver up your arm. You both freeze, the room suddenly too quiet again, his hand lingering on yours for just a second longer than necessary.

His gaze flickers down to where his fingers rest against your skin, and then back up to meet your eyes. There’s a pause, just long enough for the air between you to thicken, something unspoken hanging between you. His thumb brushes your wrist lightly, and you wonder if he feels it too—the tension that’s been simmering all night, just beneath the surface.

You swallow hard, pulling your hand away, but not before you catch the briefest flicker of something in his expression. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and just like that, the moment slips away.

His eyes narrow playfully, and for a second, you think he might call your bluff. But instead, he just chuckles and steps back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Let’s not escalate this. We’re adults, after all."

"Adults who can’t make pizza," you mutter, dumping the ruined dough into the trash. "Guess we’ll have to order in. Again."

Spencer wipes his hands on a towel, still smiling. "I’ll let you pick the place this time. As long as it’s not that one with the weird crust you made us try last month."

"Oh come on, that was a bold choice! You just have no sense of adventure."

"I have a very good sense of adventure," he says, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes sparkling in that way that makes you feel like he knows exactly how to get under your skin. "I just like my pizza to taste like pizza."

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning, too. "Fine. We’ll get the boring pizza this time."

As you both settle into the living room, waiting for the pizza to arrive, you can't help but feel that lingering tension again. The kind that sneaks up on you when things get quiet, when the laughter dies down, and it’s just the two of you sitting side by side, closer than necessary.

You smile, nudging him with your elbow. "Who knew you were such a terrible cook, though?"

"I think we share equal blame here."

"Maybe," you admit, glancing at him. His eyes catch yours, and for just a moment, the playful air between you shifts. It’s small, like the brush of his hand earlier, like the way he’s looking at you now. Your heart skips again, and you wonder—just for a second—if maybe, possibly, you weren’t imagining it. You ignore it, there was too much that could go wrong if you didn’t.

It’s late in the afternoon when you hear the knock at your door. The sun's still out, casting a soft golden light through your living room windows, but it’s the last thing on your mind.

You’re dressed in something more put together than usual because, of course, Penelope had insisted on setting you up on this date tonight. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but she’d been so enthusiastic that you’d caved. You’d said yes to humor her, to get her off your back.

She had insisted that you needed something to get your mind off Spencer. You wondered if that was actually possible.

So when the knock comes, your stomach churns, thinking it might be the guy arriving too early. But when you open the door, it's not your date.

It’s Spencer.

He’s standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, hair slightly disheveled, and there’s a look on his face you can’t quite place. It’s tight, maybe a little frustrated, though he's trying hard to keep his expression neutral.

“Spence?” You lean against the doorframe, arching an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, eyes scanning you briefly before he looks down, then back up again. There’s tension in his posture, the kind you recognize when he’s overthinking something. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

You don’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh.”

His face tightens even more, though he tries to hide it with a half-hearted shrug. “Did Penelope set you up with some guy?”

“Yeah?” You squinted trying to figure out how he knew that. You hadn’t mentioned it, you didn’t want to talk about what had caused your sudden date or have to lie to him about why Penelope suddenly set you up when you have shown no intention of being interested in dating.

“Penelope told me. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, running his hand through his hair as if he was stressed. You didn’t understand, not really. You told Spencer everything so you could understand why he would be annoyed that you didn’t tell him this, but it seemed as if he took it personally.

You squint at him, crossing your arms. “What is your issue? You look like you want to strangle someone.”

He lets out a huff, avoiding your eyes again. “It’s nothing.”

You tilt your head, studying him. There’s something under the surface, and you’re not about to let it go. “Well you’re here so, obviously its not nothing … What’s going on?”

He finally looks up at you, his eyes sharp and filled with something you haven’t seen before. It catches you off guard for a moment. “It’s just—there was a moment.”

You blink, thrown by the sudden shift. “A moment?”

His voice drops, a little rougher now, a little more real. “Last week. When we were making pizza, and the week before that— and during- there was a moment.”

Your heart skips. You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you stay silent, letting him continue.

“I thought there was a moment,” he says, his frustration starting to leak through his words now. “I thought maybe something was… happening.”

Your chest tightens, the air in the room shifting as you meet his eyes. “There was.”

The confession comes out of your mouth before you even realize it, and the tension between you two spikes instantly, filling the space with an electric charge. You can feel it, the way everything has changed with those two words.

Spencer just stares at you, his brow furrowing slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to admit it. He takes a step forward, you step back almost unconsciously, and your heart beats faster in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice low, unsure.

He doesn’t stop moving, closing the gap between you even more, and his voice is soft but firm when he speaks. “Will you just stand still for a minute?”

Before you can say anything, before you can even process what’s happening, his hand comes up to cup the side of your face, and his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but it’s full of all the unspoken things that have been building between you for so long. You feel the world tilt, your hands instinctively moving to grip the front of his jacket, pulling him closer. For a second, everything else fades away—your date, the case, everything.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you just stare at each other. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, and his eyes search yours, full of something that feels too big to name.

Neither of you says anything for a long moment, the silence thick and heavy with everything that’s just shifted between you.

Then, as if in slow motion, you take a small step forward. It’s your turn now, the tables flipped, and you can see the surprise flicker in his eyes as he instinctively steps back.

“What are you doing?” he asks, echoing your earlier words, his voice low and a little breathless

You give him a small smile, feeling the tension twist tighter in your chest. “Will you just stand still for a minute?” You mirrored his words

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t move, and before he can say another word, you close the space between you and kiss him again.

This time, it’s different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. The kiss is deeper, more insistent, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. It’s like everything you’ve both been holding back is finally breaking free, all the tension and the unspoken feelings rushing to the surface.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily, faces inches from each other. Your hands are still gripping the front of his jacket, his fingers still digging into your sides like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t move, neither of you do. You just stay there, staring at each other, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not thinking about the job, or the cases, or anything else. It’s just him.

He’s the first to break the silence, his voice quiet and almost disbelieving, He exhales, a long, relieved breath, his hand still resting on your waist. “I thought maybe I was imagining it.”

You shake your head, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “No. You weren’t imagining it.”

Another beat of silence passes, and then his lips quirk up into that small, crooked smile you’ve always liked so much. “Well, I guess we have Penelope to thank for this.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “Yeah, and she doesn’t even know it.”

His thumb brushes your side, a subtle touch, but enough to send a shiver up your spine. “Are you… still going on that date?”

The question hangs in the air between you, and for a moment, you almost laugh. The idea of leaving now, of going out with some guy Penelope set you up with, feels absurd.

“No,” you say, your voice steady and certain. “I’m not.”

His smile widens, just a little. “Good.”

You grin up at him, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. “Yeah? Why’s that good?”

Spencer’s gaze softens, and for the first time, you see the real reason for his frustration, for all of this. He steps even closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your lips, his voice low and sincere.

“Because, there was a moment.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you meet his eyes, that familiar warmth spreading through you again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, his lips ghosting yours, and the last bit of tension that’s been sitting between you melts away completely. He smiles, and before either of you can say anything else, he closes the gap and kisses you again.

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