#maybe a little bit of affirmation too. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoshigray · 11 months ago

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𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄 [& 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲 𝑴𝑬] 𝐔𝐏!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: It's bad enough you got a crush on your gym instructor, Toji; however, it gets worse when things become too close and personal for this relationship...But who says you shouldn't get a little praise for your hard work?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: personal trainer! Toji x fem! reader - explicit contents; minors DNI - unrequited/crushing » mutual pining - sex in a public space (gym locker room + showers) - shower sex - thigh riding - oral (m! + f! receiving) - ball massaging - face + throat-fucking - breast fondling + nipple play - against a wall + upstanding citizen + standing 69 positions - praise - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - cervix fucking - pet names (angel, baby, doll, dollface, good girl, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - unprotected sex (doesn't shoot inside tho) - overstimulation - cameos: Haibara and Ino (gym manager and employee) - the reader accidentally walks into the men's locker room (they're a bit dumb, forgive them, lol) - mention of sweat spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.4k (i'm about to lose my mind, bro.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: mannnnnn, the way this draft has been collecting dust, it was supposed to be released on Dec!! ofc my first fic back would be for toji lmao. anyways, i hope you enjoy, and tysm for 4.7k y'all are so sweet ;;w;; and thank yeww @ramonathinks for beta-reading, mwah mwah

“That one was weak; do another three.”

“Gahh– …You’re such an asshole, Fushiguro.”

“Heh, like that’s anythin’ new. C’mon, let’s go!”

We’re counting down to the last weeks of the year, and so many people have already promised affirmations for themselves in the upcoming year. In terms of this year, you can’t say much. You’ve done your work, hung out with the same people since last year, and probably learned to spoil yourself more. Maybe another thing you can be proud of is that you crossed some TV series off your “get-to-watch” list, so go you!

Although, besides those minimal things, there is one change in your life that you’ve committed yourself to. One thing that you didn’t expect to be so in tune with throughout the past half of the year. It started as a forced challenge because your friend Miwa needed someone to motivate her to maintain her gym membership. What was once something you’d thought a one-time thing gradually became something you enjoy — something you felt proud doing!

Not only has your knowledge of your body and how to keep it in good shape improved over half a year, but your love for the community has grown more and more. The gym you go to feels like a second home, with many people you’ve gotten to know and befriend along your journey. Even the manager, Haibara Yu, practically treats you like a sibling after seeing you every other day. The same goes for the front desk associate, Ino, who is the goofiest goofball you’ve ever met (not to mention the best drinking buddy).

But – if you really had to pick – there is one person who has made this experience more enjoyable and worthwhile. “Hahhh!! There, I did them! Aren’t you supposed to be my spotter, not a shit-talker?”

“I’m doin’ my job, aren’t I?” Toji Fushiguro, your gym instructor for the past few months, has been a driving force in your physical journey. With his help, you’ve been disciplining yourself in and outside of the facility, maintaining a good diet, and keeping your body active in a balanced fashion. The gratitude you have for him supersedes all. But above all else, throughout the years, the two of you have gotten pretty close and know a good chunk about each other to call yourselves friends – at least, that’s what you’ve been doing. “Alright, that’s enough lifting for today; time for stretches.”

Aside from a friend, there is something else you refer to him as – something you’d rather die than admit out loud. Toji, your trainer, is your gym crush. Well, your crush in general.

Can you really blame yourself, though? Look at the man! When you first look at him, his physique alone is enough to keep you staring at him for hours and hours on end. Strong, bulky arms that look like they could pick up five treadmills in one sitting and with veins that decorate up to his forearm can effortlessly grab the attention of the normal eye. He’s wearing his black fitted tee, so tight that it was as if it was vacuum sealed to perfectly showcase the outline of his abdomen, ribs, and pectorals. And it doesn’t help from the back view either; you can’t count how many times you fell into a short trance from admiring his gorgeous back, from his trapezius to his waist. Every time the man flexes his biceps and triceps, all you can do is internally thank the gods for sculpting such a man to be in front of you. And those beautiful thighs and calves shaped from his black leggings and shorts? Damn.

But the thing about him that has you squeak more than a mouse are his eyes. Forest green orbs that can shift into a stern concentration whenever he’s working on a machine or when he’s observing your form and finds whatever needs correcting. Then there are times when they are mellow and soft when you’re speaking with him or when he’s deep in thought about something until you catch his attention. Then he’d throw a small smile at you — your biggest weakness. The scar on his lip being lifted to a curl never fails to put your stomach into knots.

He’s such an attractive man from the first moment you ever laid your eyes on him. You were bound to fall in love with him one way or another. It just sucks that it’s under such a professional relationship that you have to keep this little unrequited love to yourself.

Which is getting harder and harder every day, especially now when the guy is so close to your face when he’s helping you stretch. Oh, dear lord.

Every time you are done lifting weights, Toji will have you do stretches. He has you do them before and after a workout as they give your muscles time to warm up and straighten from the stress you put on them. So now, as you’re laying on your mat, Toji puts one hand on your right leg to keep it grounded on the floor and his other hand on the back of your left to push it up to your chest. The position has the two of you so close, him being situated between your legs and observing your breathing; it’s so wrong of you to dwell your mind into other things – other raunchier things.

And when he brings both your legs up to your chest, how the fuck are you supposed to calm your heart from exploding!?? You have to close your eyes during all this to not be pulled in by the examination of his gaze under his raven bangs. This is, without a doubt, the best worst part of the workouts. Thankfully, this is the last workout of the week, and the gym is about to close within an hour and a half.

Toji breaks the suffering silence between you two. “Y’re still stiff; take deeper breaths f’r me.”

Oh, if only he knew how your dirty mind took that sentence. You chew on your lip with a gulp, “Maybe I still have a little energy in me that still wants to exercise.”

That made him chortle. “Is that so? Well, maybe after your stretches, you can get on the stairmaster for a few minutes.”

You gawk at him, only furthering the smirk on his face. “Are you serious!?? You promised we wouldn’t do any cardio until next week.”

“Well, next week is around the corner,” Toji moves your knees a bit to the left, bending them further down to your chest so his face could be a little closer to yours. Your brain almost short circuits at the movement, trying to distract yourself from the fact that his groin is mere inches away from your shorts. “So, since ya got the spirit, be a doll and do a few minutes on the machine, okay? Five minutes.”

Your breathing is so slow that you’re too scared to move. Your lips pressed to a thin line to conceal the quiver, and your eyes don’t dare venture down. You already know your body is going through its own internal turmoil, a throbbing sense occurring in your lower regions the more you keep looking at Toji, who lifts a brow from awaiting your response. Oh, this man is going to kill me.

“…Five minutes.”

“Atta girl.” With a scoff, he finally straightens himself and places your legs on the mat. Toji then stands on his feet and grabs his bag. “Gonna head for the showers; finish up those stretches and head for the stepmaster. See ya later, Y/n.” And you watch him leave for the men’s locker room, finally having room to breathe. Before you can conclude your stretches with a cobra and child’s pose, you grumble to yourself in a whisper.

Why the hell did I have to fall in love with such a snarky, gruff, older guy like him…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You enter the locker room after completing the instructed exercise. Your mind is dizzy from walking on the step machine for about fifteen minutes, and your legs are mere minutes from turning into jelly. You curse Toji internally for the insufferable torture you’ve stressed on your poor limbs.

No matter, though; you’re finally done for the evening and can head home to your soft bed. The gym will close soon, so perhaps you could use the locker room showers to freshen up. But then again, after the strain you’ve put on your body for almost two hours, all you want to do is be home and listen to your favorite music. I don’t feel like cooking today…

Further into the room, you can hear the sound of someone using the showers, indicating you had picked the right idea to head home. You head for the locker side to grab your items to put in your bag before leaving, and it’s then that you hear the water stop running from where the showers are. Oh, shit, make this quick, Y/n!

In front of you is the locker with the number you’re familiar with — where you always leave your things, like your own spot. You open it only to find….nothing is in the locker? Huh? Where are my leggings? And my phone??

Come to think of it, where’s your duffel bag that you usually leave on the bench against the lockers? You’ve never had a problem with people stealing from you in this place, so how does a bag full of your stuff magically disappear? There is a bag in here, but it’s definitely not yours. And now that you get a good look, you start to notice that the color of the lockers is of a different, darker shade than what you’re usually accustomed to. Wait a minute, am I in the wrong—

“Y/n?”

You go still at the familiar voice. Oh no, please, God, no. There’s no way. Your eyes teeter to the corner as you ever-so-slowly turn to the direction where that voice was coming from. And, of course, it was your personal trainer, who is—OH MY GOD!!!

Toji stands afar on the opposite side of you from the showers, without clothing, his body and hair completely drenched from water. The only thing that covers him is a white towel wrapped around his lower body. His body, which you’re used to seeing being snug tight by his gym clothes, is out for you to see as water trickled down from his clavicle, pecs, ribcage, and abs. For a split second, you take in as much of the image as you can, storing this as it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in your mind (maybe to fuel more of your erotic fantasies when you go home). But you avert your gaze when your eyes travel down his abs, counting each one until you reach below his belly button, where strays of dark hair become more prominent with a trail down his pelvis and—Okay, stop looking, stop looking!!

“M–Mr. Fushiguro!?” You croak, eyes wide with realization at what you’ve just done. Your dumbass just walked into the men’s locker room without checking first. And to add salt to the wound, your crush is the first person to catch you in the act, “O-Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to walk in here! I’ll get going—“

“No, no, Y/n, calm down,” Toji walks to where you’re standing; a mini-heart attack was about to be deployed until the older man turned to the side to grab for something in his bag. He pulls out a smaller towel. “Ya walked in here on accident, right?”

You gulp, seeing the steam from the shower still leave from Toji’s nude body. “Uhm, yeahhh, I don’t know where my head was at. Sorry…”

The gym instructor scoffs at your apology. “It happens; must’ve been a bit light-headed from the exercise and forgot where y’re at. Heh, guess those five minutes did more damage than I thought.”

“Ahaha, yeah, it was…pretty….dreadful……” Were you distracted? Yup. Because Toji used the towel he pulled from his bag to wipe off the water from his arms and face. You couldn’t help but survey the man’s movements, watching the small white towel brush on his triceps and glide down to his torso. You continue watching the small towel until your eyes drift to the happy trail on his pelvis. Your breathing goes uneven, thinking of more indecent things that connect with the trail of hair and the limb that’s shielded by the towel around Toji’s waist.

“…–ou there…Y/n?” Your name said to you snaps you back, realizing where you are and what you were doing. Your eyes crawl back to Toji’s face, who throws a small smile at you. “Eyes up here, sweetie.” Sweetie?!? If the floor could give way and swallow you, that would be appreciated. “Is there anythin’ else you need to tell me while y’re here?”

No, I’m in the men’s locker room, so I need to hurry and get the fuck out! “Uhmm, n-nope, nothing at all! So…I better get going now. See you later, Mr. Fushiguro!” You turn on the heel of your foot to head for the door, only able to take about five giant steps before Toji stops you again.

“How was it today?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, what now!? You look over your shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“The workout. How was it?”

“It…It was, umm, alright, I guess. I feel like I could’ve done better on the weights.”

“And why is that?”

Your body turns to have your front fully face him again. “Well, I mean, I was struggling at the last few reps…I’m sure you noticed, too, since you scolded me about it.”

He hums. “Ya know I correct you because, I know, you can do better, right, Y/n?” It was rhetoric, but you humor him with a slow nod. He brings the small towel to his head and dries his damp hair. “I’ve had many clients who come at me with everything they got or burned out before the first two months. But don’t worry, Y/n, I can tell you take pride in what we’re doing, and it’s good to know…”

His words drown out from your ears. You didn’t mean for it to – you really didn’t. But while Toji was fixing his hair, you snuck more peeks at his body, enjoying his side profile. Admiring the way his arms move and flex, following the rocky silhouette of his abs that lead down to the towel again, you gasp at the dent of something that appears to be between Toji’s legs. Good lord, even with the cotton material covering him, you can still see it and—

“….Y/n.” Oh no, I did it again. You gulp with eyes venturing back to Toji’s face; the grin grew broader than before. “That's twice, sweet thing.”

“S–Sorry, Mr. Fushiguro. It’s just that you have a...uhhh…” The heat in your ears makes it hard to concentrate on looking at the ground, anything to avoid your instructor’s gaze. “…..areallynicebody—“

“Hmm? I didn’t hear that, sweetie,” Sweetie? Sweetie!? Why'd he call me that? What you should be questioning is why that nickname made your stomach flip. But who are you kidding — if anyone had a crush on their instructor and were called a cute name like that, of course, they’d be as hot as a volcano. “Didn’t catch that, say it fr’ me again.”

“I–I said that,” Oh for fuck’s sake, this is so embarrassing! “You have a nice body…An attractive body, really…” The heat on your cheeks and ears is reaching heights that would have you combust at any moment. It’s what you’d hope for, honestly. It’s bad enough you’re stuck in the men’s locker room for not paying attention; now you’re here admitting to your instructor that you got the hots for him. God, please strike me here and now!

Toji says nothing after you say that, and it has your nerves at an all-time high, wondering if you should wait for his reply or just dash for the door and hope no one sees you leaving the men’s locker room. However, his voice breaks the silence, “I can say the same fr’ you.”

Oh, stop it. “Oh, please, no need to butter me up, Mr. Fushigu—“

“I’m serious.” He shuts down your argument down your argument before you can even finish. “C’mere.”

Why did you do what you were about to do? You could’ve just declined, exited the facility, and headed straight home to wallow away about this entire interaction, maybe find a different gym to form a membership with. But you didn’t. Instead, with downcast eyes, you slowly approached your instructor, who stood behind the locker bench. “Closer,” he says, noting how you’re about two arms length away from him, which you meekly decrease to one. “You don’t think ya got a nice body?”

The adjacency between you two was too much for you, your face minutes from imploding. Too shy for words, you settle for a nod to give.

“How come?”

For God’s sake, this is not a conversation you want to have now with your crush instructor in the middle of the men’s locker room. “I…Well, Mr. Fushiguro—“

“Toji,” he cuts you off, discarding the small towel to the top of his bag. “Y’re over here tellin’ me I look good when you’re the one lookin’ like you could strike any guy that walks up in this place. Doncha think so?”

Again, your eyes avoided his toweled figure, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your sneakers. “I guess, but…Toji, when compared to you, I—“

“Then that’s what ya shouldn’t be doin’, who told you to compare y'rself to others?” Toji brings a hand to your chin to make your avoidant peer placed on him, a move you were not mentally strapped in for. “I’m me, and y’re you, right?”

“Right…”

“And that’s a good thing,” the hand on your chin slides down to the inside of your hoodie, his forefinger sneaking under the band of your sports bra. It makes your breathing stop. “But ya know what else I think?”

“What?” You sounded so low – so tiny – you didn’t know if he could hear you. He then brings his face close to your ear, and you could’ve sworn you almost felt your heart jump out of your throat. His free hand comes around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. The cotton of the towel now brushed your leg, and you could sink into a pool of embarrassment at the gasp you let out.

His voice was hoarse and low, the air from his nostrils grazing the skin of your ear. “…I think y’r body is the sexiest thing I’ve seen.”

The sentence hit you like a truck, your heart almost giving in to a complete shutdown. “Huh–Ohhhh, wait,” Toji takes a nibble of your ear while his hand slithers your hoodie off of you, freeing your arms and covered chest where he creeps his hand inside next. You whimper at his fingers on your nipples that harden at his grinding touch. “Toji, wait, please wait…Do you really mean—“

“Mhmm, I do,” He coos, and a kiss to your neck nearly has you give way and lose balance; lucky for you, Toji was smart enough to have a leg between yours. “Now that I have you here, I’ll prove it.”

“We’re—Ahhnnn…But we’re in the men’s locker room,” Toji brings his face up to look at you, your half-lidded eyes locked with his emerald orbs. “Someone could see us…”

Your worries are taken with a caress to your cheek. “Don’t worry about other people when y’re with me. I gotcha, baby.”

“And I’m…Ohooo, really sweaty…”

“Nothin’ a shower can’t fix.”

And before you refute him again, Toji places his scarred lips onto yours, a shocked moan muffled as he kisses and sucks on your bottom lip. The hand in your bra now positions to the back of your neck, positioning you for him to deepen the kiss once you allow him access to your mouth. And once you kiss him back, all the reins of restraint have been discarded along with your hoodie to the floor.

The sounds of lips smacking get louder by the second, the passion in the kiss unraveling when you bring your hands to cup his cheek and have his face practically glued to yours. And Toji complies, shoving his tongue to tease and play with yours. The hand that was on your waist comes down to your ass for him to grope with the flesh, urging more of your sobs to be taken from him. Is it possible for your brain to turn into mush from a kiss? You’re finding that out now, breaking the kiss to gather whatever air you can before Toji claims your lips again.

The leg you’re riding on is nestled between your thighs, rubbing against the groin of your shorts. With every kiss and hump comes a grind on his leg, and it alleviates the growing ache that’s flourishing in your panties. Shivers travel up your spine and heighten your horniness, this elated feeling so dangerous that you could turn into putty at any second.

Toji lets go of your lips with a heavy pant, breathlessly snickering at his work; turning his cute client into a mess flipped a switch he’s been dying to indulge with. “Mmmm, y’re too fuckin’ cute, baby,” he wipes your mouth before letting you go; you hold back a whine when he removes his warm figure from you and steps back. It’s then that your instructor finally removes the towel that’s been shielding a now-discernible tent. The white towel meets the floor, and you follow his happy trail to meet with his erection, a sight that makes your jaw drop. The older man takes a seat on the bench behind him, and his legs spread out for his dick and balls to be ever-so-present and seen.

“Ya see how crazy you and y’r body make me?” He bites his lip, getting more turned on with you marveling at him and his length. “C’mere, angel, lemme see what you can do.” It takes a good mental slap to snap out of your frozen state and look at the thing you’ve been imagining all these months. Now, when the chance has finally been brought to you, how could you pass this up? Following Toji’s command, you come close and go to your knees between his legs.

The sheer size and girth of his length nearly put you in a trance, your eyes taking every detail of his erection before your eyes. Every dent and curve, the prominent veins from the underside, and the oddly pretty pink tip where bits of precum dare protrude from the urethra. Your raised hand has hesitance, yet Toji is quick to assuage your unease, taking your hand with his and wrapping it on his cock. The rough skin on your palm hitches your breath, “Hmmm, oh fuck. Yeah, just like that, princess.”

And there he goes again, egging you on with more cute pet names. Your hand slides up and down along his shaft from the tip to the base, and the sensation of its veins is so raunchy for your overwhelmed fingertips. Toji’s gruff hums to your touches stick to your ears the most, a sound you never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be lucky enough to hear. You want to keep hearing them, want them to be stored in your memory for as long as you can. And when you meekly tease his glans with a tiny lick, the hiss he expresses turns you on even more, so much so that you take the tip with patience and start to suck.

Toji throws his head back to the lockers behind him; the feeling of your tongue rolling around his girth as you inhale his cock is crazy. Fuck, it felt so good – he has to fight the urge to rut into your hollow cheeks and puffy lips. “Hahhh…Mmmm, damn….Ahahaha, ya know how to use that mouth of y’rs, Y/n. Keep suckin’ me off like that, and I’ll—Ohhh! Shit, shit, shiiiit,” he wasn’t prepared for you to take in his entire erection to the hilt. The tightness of your throat around him sends shivers, having to use the bench to grip onto.

You bob your head along his length, a hand accompanying the motions to further the exhilaration. Spit and come wet your palm, yet you’re too focused on the task to care, the haze of your brain increasing every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. The jerk of his hips entails that you’re doing a good job, Toji bringing a hand to the back of your head when you kiss and lick on the head of his cock. You take note, assuming that it’s his weak spot, and continue to suck and tease the tip some more, massaging his testicles which almost had him choke.

“—Hnnmph! Fuckin’ shit, I can’t…” Toji then has enough of this ribbing pleasure, unable to hold it anymore. With a careful hold on your skull, he stands from the bench and plows your face with his member. The harsh hit of his hips propelling his dick down to the deep crevices of your throat was sudden; the assault on your uvula results in your gag reflex; however, Toji was here to calm you down, “It’s alright, angel, breathe fr’ me.” He caters to you with a mediocre rhythm to the hips, the movement relieving the abrupt stress to your throat as you hum on his cock. You find purchase on his thighs to stabilize yourself while he plays with you orally, dialing up the pumps to your mouth until it reaches an erratic mood. Fuck, it has your head ringing, but the growing twinges and throbs between your legs practically excite you for more. Goddamn, it feels so good. So fucking good. “Jesus Christ—Y/n, I’m ‘bout to cum. Keep swirlin’ that tongue…Nnmmm, fuuck, right there, right there—Ahhhck!!”

His release comes with a few rough hits to your lips, his balls hitting your chin until they’re pressed against it. He pups his load into you, and you take it like a champ, letting the fluid venture down as the girth pulsates around your walls. His choked breathing eventually simmers down, giving it a few long seconds before he steadily removes himself from your warm cavity. The last remnants of his white substance paint your tongue, your saliva coating him. And with a voluntary swallow, you open your mouth again to showcase your clean change.

“Heh, didn’t even have to tell you,” Toji chortles, bringing a thumb to wipe your chin. “Good girl.”

KA-CHA! CREEEEK!!

Wide green eyes shoot wide along with yours, and the both of you go frozen rigid. That was most definitely the sound of a door opening. The door to the men’s locker room, where you are on your knees, in front of your personal instructor, with his dick out for the whole world to see. The blood in your body runs cold, and your stomach drops to the chilly floor. Oh, it’s over. It’s done. Your life is officially coming to an end. Welp, it’s time for me to think of a good suicide note when I get home and—

Pause on that. Because one moment you were thinking of your demise from this discomfiting situation, next you’re being dragged by Toji to the other part of the locker room, the showers. He swiftly opens a curtain and throws you both inside with a close, and the wet tiles soaked to your socks have you cringe, so you take them off.

“Hello?” It’s a guy’s voice, of course — Ino’s. The young man is probably inspecting the male locker rooms before they close for the night like usual. You don’t dare speak so much as a letter when the footsteps draw closer to the showers, your heart rate spiking to a nervous high, and your breathing shallow. This is worse; now you’re in a confined space, face-to-face with Toji, who is utterly nude, towel left back on the bench. Your eyes locked with his, and your ears to the sounds of shoes entering the plane. “Anyone here? Saw some stuff at the front.”

“Yeah, I’m here,” your expression turns to sheer terror, wide orbs looking at the raven-haired man who spoke. No! Why would you say something!?

“Hmm? Toji, that you?” Ino’s voice comes closer, in front of the shower curtain that shields you from his field of vision. Your heart is on the verge of dropping to your intestines. “You’re still here? Figured you’d be home by now.”

“Nah, I’m still here. Just about to finish up and head out.” Toji then turns on the faucet, cold peeps of water hitting your sweaty skin, panties, and sports bra. And, of course, it catches you off guard. OH FUUUUUU— You don’t scream. You can’t. Instead, you shield your mouth and turn your back to Toji after giving him the most outstanding death glare of your life, which the older finds amusement in. You wipe your face from the water, cursing internally at this entire predicament.

“Oh, okay, cool. I was just worried someone left their stuff on that bench over there. Carry on, and have a good night!” Ino dismisses himself and leaves the showers, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief. Oh, thank goodness…

Toji, on the other hand, sees your relieved state, and he can’t help but grin to himself with what he’s about to do. Moving closer to you, he brings his wet hands to your sports bra and immediately goes to fondling your breasts. A moan sneaks past you at the contact, prompting him to grope you even more. “T–Toji,” the water gradually gets warmer, juxtaposing with his cold fingers. “Stop, we have to leave, this is—Ohooo…” He tweaks your nipples with his forefinger and thumbs, and a leg sneaks in between yours.

“Relax, dollface, it’s just you and me here,” Oh, sweet Lord, you almost fell to your knees when he whispered to your ear and a teasing lick to your helix. “Got ya all to myself, now…” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, his wet hair brushing your cheek while he snakes his hand down into your panties. The way his fingers graze your clit again has you arch your back to him, another hushed shriek when he bullies his way between your folds.

“Hey, Toji?” Ino’s voice again. Back to anxious stakes now that Toji’s toying with you. Goddamn it, Ino! What are you still doing here!? “I noticed you left your towel on the bench over there. But I also saw Y/n’s hoodie there.” Oh, fuck me!! Shit, shit, shit—"Ohhmph!!"

With quickness, you covered your mouth before your moan caught the ears of the front desk employee. And the reason for that is that Toji pulled down your soaked underwear and gave your chasm a sudden lick. If Ino weren’t back here, you’d give your personal trainer the nastiest kick to the throat you could ever do. But when he inserts a finger inside you, your aggression withered away in seconds.

“Huh? Ohh, yeah, ‘bout that,” Toji stands back up and continues to finger you, chuckling at the sight of your trembling figure using the wall as leverage. “I saw ‘em before headin’ to the locker room. We talked for a while, but then they said they needed to change and told me to hold their hoodie for ‘em.” He says it so casually, all the while scraping your inner walls with the tip of his forefinger, summoning hushed cries that turn to silent screams when his free hand comes down to playfully pinch and press on your clitoris. God, this is too much torture for one night.

Ino keeps questioning. “Really? I had someone check the other locker rooms, and she said she didn’t see anyone or anything except for a few personal items and leggings in one of the lockers. I’m guessing those would be Y/n’s, but where could they be?” Little did he know that you were just a curtain pull away from being found, chewing hard on your lip to quash your screams from the erratic swiping on your clit and the curving hits of his digits in your wetness.

“Mmmm, they probably are at another part of the gym or waitin’ for me at the front.” He lies effortlessly, yet his attention is still on you as he removes his fingers from you, the pleasure subsiding from the removal. Instead, he brings his erection in between your folds and humps you, and the feeling of his dick on your lips worsens the throbs in your awaiting cunt. With the heat coming from the shower and your uneven breaths, you’re bound to faint at any moment.

“Ahh, makes sense. Alright, I’ll try and find them then,” you don’t say anything, just hesitant breaths when you feel the tip of Toji’s cock align and lightly push to your slick-coated entrance. Holy fuck, this is actually happening! Your lips quiver when Toji comes down to your ear to tell you to relax your body from tension, quietly maneuvering you by pulling your lower half to him. You do big inhales and exhales while the man pushes his cockhead to enter your cunt, wincing at the few seconds of pain that accompany each push. “See you later, Toji, and I put your towel on the hood next to your shower for when you’re done. Good night!”

“See ya.” And with Toji’s dismissal, Ino’s footsteps draw farther and farther from where you two are. And the moment you hear the locker room door slam close, Toji pushes the entire cockhead inside of you. Finally, you can squeal out to your heart’s content, balling your fists on the shower wall while your personal trainer wedges his length inside of you and stretches your walls. The girth was definitely something you knew would be an obstacle to accommodate, and it’s worse when your slit keeps clamping around the foreign limb invading inside. Tears begin to swell from the stinging touch, not that they would be distinguished by the shower water hitting behind you and Toji.

“Haahh, ahahhnn, mmmm,” Your wails seep out from your system right as the base of his cock kisses your lower region lips. And after a few seconds, he starts with a slow pace. Knowing that you can feel every dent and vein within you is insane to comprehend; the heat across your cheeks cranks up due to the euphoric sensations. “Ohhhh, my God, Tojiii. I’m so full…”

Toji pecks on your shoulder, “Yeah, sweet thing? I bet so. Just be a good girl and keep grippin’ on me like that, alright? Gonna start movin’ now…” His hips rut into your vagina, pulling his shaft slowly outward and rushing it back inward. Holy shit, it felt so dreamlike — having him actually move inside of you. But it was very much real; having his pelvis meeting the flesh of your ass was proof of such.

A hand snakes down to your clitoris, and a gasp leaves your lips at the brush of his thumb rubbing against it. Your legs tremble at the flick of his finger on your bud, and the pace of his thrusts crank up in speed, making it hard to concentrate on one thing. So many senses are being activated all at once; the shower water raining down on your back, the exhilarating combination of Toji’s dick grinding down on your insides, and the swipes and pinches on your precious clitoris. God, it was all too much.

“Arch some more fr’ me, princess,” Toji gets up to push your back further down, the walls of your chasm clinging onto him as the more exposed opening gives room for you to be plowed. “Hnnmm, shit, feels so good…Hey, let’s try somethin’ different.”

By the time the last bit of his sentence could be registered, he already had you turned to face him, folding your arms around his neck. You didn’t know what for until he hoisted you up, and then you instinctively grabbed hold for dear life before your back hit the wall, your legs wrapped around him while he held you by the thighs. Toji brings his member back to your labia to insert it back inside, and you two moan at the contact again. Oh, this was different – never have you been lifted like this. And to be elevated by your gym crush, in this connotation, is enough to have you appalled.

But what made your breath hitch the most was Toji’s face being up close and personal. The bangs stuck to his forehead thanks to the shower water; his jet-black hair was wet and slicked. Trails flow down his face, drops of water plummeting from his nose and chin. And – oh, sweet Jesus – those green eyes of his, so striking as if they could pierce right through you. They were piercing through you. He took in your expression just as you were his, eyes filled with wanton desire, and it was all directed towards you – for you. He flashes a small smile, teeth peeking from beneath his scarred lips.

Oh, my God. You turn to the side to hide your face from his gaze; it definitely wasn’t the water that was making your cheeks and ears hot at that moment. But that didn’t fly with Toji. He sneaks into a rut that has you jump on his cock, the new position giving his dick an angle to hit your cervix. Because of that, the jab erupts a shriek you had no preparation for withholding.

“Heh, aht, aht, don’t do that,” Oh, he knows he’s in control of this entire situation; you can hear it in his patronizing chortle. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me, doll,” he kisses your cheek and trails down to the crook of your neck. “Let me hear you—Aiishhh! Oh, fuuck…”

Once Toji begins to jerk his hips to you, you dwell into a pleasure that you never knew existed. Toji’s length scrapes your inner walls like crazy, like a euphoric itch. The fact that you’re bouncing on the cock of your personal trainer is scary to comprehend. Having him see you like this, hearing you moan and wail for him, you never felt more exposed in your entire life. And also, him holding you like you weigh nothing and fucking you in the men’s locker room showers?! What the actual fuck!? This is actually so embarrassing – I could die!

But why would you? The commotion between your legs feels way too good to bring this to a stop – you two are already joined in a union, so why stop? Every stroke to your slit sends a shiver up your spine, clamping onto him every time he brushes up on your sweet spots that make your nerves tingle. And the occasional jabs to your tender cervix? Damn, the stimulation was enough to have you faint with the heat growing tenfold.

“Mmmff, hoohhh, ohhhhh,” your cries are drowned out by the shower, only heard by Toji. Speaking of, this position gives you proximity to observe his expression. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes shut as if he’s in the zone. The huffs of breath he takes with every roll of his pelvis are so hot to the ear that you wouldn’t mind listening to them all day. Anytime the walls of your wetness clamp onto him, he moans and hushed curses at the feeling of you wanting him. He’s an attractive man, but, holy fuck, this was a sight you thought you’d never see in a million years.

“—Khhhh! Hnmph, ahhhh,” Through the gruff pants, Toji opens his eyes half-lidded, catching you in the moment of staring right at him. You clench onto him; why does this man have to look so fucking sexy!? He smirks, “How we feelin’ now, baby?”

“Hahhh, I–I’m—Ohhh!! Fucking shiiiitt,” you cry out when he slams deep into you, making your toes curl, and your words come out in slurs. “It’s too muuchh, Tojiii, ughhh!! T–Tooo muuuuch…”

“Ya gettin’ close?” Oh, yes, you were. You could feel it through the trembles climbing up your fibers. Your brows trench at the high, and Toji was mean enough to sneak a pinch to the clitoris without you noticing. Your legs tighten around his waist, and you shake your head hurriedly. He chuckles, releasing your clit from his rough fingers and putting his forehead to yours. “C’mon, angel, I won’t know what you want if ya don’t say it.”

Fuck, he’s such a meanie. You love it so fucking much. You mewl to him, “Pleaseee, Tojiii, I want it so bad!”

He lifts a brow. “Want what?”

“—To cum!! Pleasepleaseee, I wanna cum on you, I want it—Ahaahhnn!!” Fuck, it’s coming. Almost there.

That’s all he needed to hear, the grin on his face broadening at your response. “Cum on me, then. I’m right here to catch ya, princess.” His hand returns to your clitoris, pressing down on the delicate button to the point where all he can hear is your sweet screams of lust. His thrusts now get erratically fast, having you rebound to the hilt of his length, the smacks of skin slapping against each other fill the confined space of the shower. And the climb of your aroused high increases until it comes crashing down; you let out one last howl as the electric shocks course through your body, and your release is freed. Your walls squeeze hard onto Toji as you indulge in your climax; him pistoning his cock to your sensitive labia adds to the chilling sensitivity. Your cunt flutters around his cock while you experience your crescendo, your eyes screwed shut to enhance the experience, not aware of Toji watching you ride out your orgasm on him.

The trembles calm down, the shocks subside, and your breathing descends into a steady rhythm. Throwing your head back, you rest your back against the wall while still in Toji’s hold, using this time to indulge yourself in this moment of clarity.

Toji lets out a tiny laugh, bringing his face to your neck to suck on it. “That felt good, sweet thing?” You sigh out of breath, nodding to his question. “Hmmm, good. But ya know I’m not done, right?” Your blood ran cold, your body rigid still. Wait, huh? “I let you have your fun, so be a good girl, and lemme have mine.”

The involuntary twitch of your slit should give you a clue as to how the news hit you, and you can't tell if it'll be him or the shower that will have you melting like a puddle by the time this is over...

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Haibara walks out to the front desk, where Ino hurriedly stuffs his phone back into his pocket, away from his superior’s eyes. Fortunately for the younger man, the older one didn’t see his device. “Hey, Ino, I got a question.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” The associate fidgets with his brown hair under his rolled-up ski mask.

“Have you seen Mr. Fushiguro and Y/n today? Toji told me he couldn’t make it for Monday night, but I haven’t seen Y/n that day or Wednesday.” The older brunette looks around to find any resembling cues, but his eyes see nothing that sparks familiarity.

Ino blinks before answering. “No. And now that you mention it, I haven’t seen or heard from them since last week…”

Haibara leans on the desk and sighs. “Hope Y/n’s doing all right. Usually, they’d call or shoot a text telling me they couldn’t make it for their appointments with Fushiguro. But this is twice where neither of them show up.”

“Hmm, can’t say I have an idea.” The other shrugs at his superior’s concerns. “I didn’t get a call or text from Y/n either, so maybe I’ll give ‘em one after my shift. Heh. Let’s hope they didn’t replace us with another gym.”

With trenched brows, Haibara took offense to the younger brunette’s words. “Cut that out, man! I’d be pretty upset if they just suddenly stopped showing up here. Half a year of coming in and out and getting to know each other, only for them to just vanish like that…At the very least, they could give a call!” He passionately bangs on the front desk, giving Ino a startle.

RING-RING-RING!! RING-RING-RING!!

The two froze at the sudden ring of the desk phone as if Haibara’s fist magically granted them a call. And by the exchanged glances they shared before Ino picked up the phone, they better hope it wasn’t the call they were expecting. “Hello, this is Golden Gate Gym. My name is Takuma Ino; what can I do for you?”

“Hey, is that you, Ino?”

“Hey, Y/n!” Ino turns to Haibara, whose eyes share the same perplexity as his. “It’s good to hear from you; where’ve you been? You’ve been MIA for almost a week.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had a little accident and sprained my ankle; I couldn’t come to the gym on Monday and Wednesday.”

“Oh, shit, for real?” Haibara watched the younger man’s tone change to concern, which didn’t help his nerves either. “Sorry to hear about that, but it’s a good call not coming here and taking care of yourself.”

“Yeah, thanks. Is Haibara there with you by any chance?”

“Uh, yeah. He’s right next to me, actually.” Ino takes the initiative to give the darker brunette the phone to speak with the one on the other side of the line. Haibara outstretches his arm to take the phone and put the receiving end to his ear. “Yo, Y/n!”

“Hey, Haihai. I meant to call you Wednesday, but I’m letting you know that Mr. Fushiguro and I are still doing our weekly appointments.”

Haibara sighs in relief internally, giving Ino a thumbs up. “Oh, thank God! You two had me worried there for a second. We didn’t see you guys here and thought you’d be a no-show again.”

“Yeah, sorry for the scare. Mr. Fushiguro found out about it and decided it would be….Haahhh….best for me to do my regimine at my apartment instead…”

“Well, that’s nice of him to look out for you with your ankle. I’m sure he’s doing what he can to—“

“Ahaahhnn!!”

A sudden yelp pops into the call out of nowhere and completely takes Haibara aback from the phone as if it was so out of place for the topic that was taking place. Ino notices it when the darker brunette gives him a brief perplexed look, which the younger shrugs at. “Uhh, Y/n? You busy right now?”

Oh, you were busy, all right. You’re at your apartment right now. Your ankle? Absolutely fine, nothing wrong about it in the slightest. The only change, however, is not being at the gym for this entire week and staying home instead. Why?

How about asking your personal trainer who has you propped upside down, standing up with his hands holding you by your ass, stuffing his face to your exposed cunt which he licks and sucks on. The feeling of his tongue digging through your labia has your hips jerking, but his strong arms exhibit unmoving effort in keeping your wetness in his mouth. His pants down to his knees, and his erect length in your hand and brushing your cheek. This is most definitely not the at-home exercise that Haibara is thinking of.

“…Hello?…Y/n, you there?”

Oh, shit! “Y–Yeah, I’m here! Sorry, my ankle is acting up on me—Ohhhh…Fushiguro’s looking at it for me…” Oh, please, he’s not checking shit; fucker indulging himself between your asscheecks, ravishing your folds like a sweet fruit to his tastebuds.

“Oh! So you two are exercising together right now?” Toji nibbles on your vagina and grazes with his teeth, having you gasp and twitch. His tongue surprising your clit prompts a choked whine. “That��s good to know then! Alright then, see you guys when you’re ready to return to the gym. And tell Toji not to put too much on you, ya hear?”

“—Khhhh, mhmm…I’ll give him an earful for you. See you later, Haibara…”

“Great, see ya. Happy Friday!”

And with that farewell, you can finally toss the phone down and coo to your heart’s content, biting your lips at Toji stuffing his mouth on your bare chasm; his muffled groans vibrate your lower half like crazy. “Ohhooo!! Ohhhfuckkk, I’m gonna cumm,” your words slur with a suck to your clitoris, your hips bucking involuntarily. “Lemme cum, Tojiiii, I wanna—Ahaaaa!!”

He removes his face from your ass with an exhale as if he was dying for breath. But based on the grin plastered on his face, he wouldn’t mind being in this position for a little while. “Oh, I don’t think so, doll. I don’t think ya deserve to cum in my mouth.”

That was the last thing you wanted to hear right now. “Ahahnn!! You’re such an asshole, Toji…”

He chuckles crudely. “That’s where I’m gonna play with next if you don’t stuff my dick in that pretty mouth of y’rs already. Suck me good; then maybe I’ll let the princess cum all over me.”

Broad strokes from his pelvis rub his dick on your cheek, a reminder of your part of this endeavor that you must partake in. The smell of him overwhelms your nostrils into a pornographic trance, your head pounding just from looking at it. You gulp and take the tip into your mouth, sucking and licking the precum off while your hands glide up and down his shaft. “Good girl, good girl…” Toji goes back to smacking his lips on your folds, moving his tongue in whirlpool motions that have you moaning on his cock. God, it feels so good, so fucking good. You can see yourself becoming addicted to this, and that’s a bit scary seeing this professional relationship drift to something more touchy and personal…

…But then again, there’s nothing wrong with that, right?

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gloomwitchwrites · 4 months ago

Note

What If 141 and the best enemies to lovers line of all time...

"Who did this to you?"

Cue protective instincts and sexiness

hehe I am giggling!! Okay. Listen. I am fully aware that this is an enemies to lovers trope, but I don't think it applies to all of the 141 guys in that manner. Is there protectiveness? Yes. Is there a bit of spice? Yes, if you squint really hard. Is there also some sweetness thrown in? Absolutely there is. I had lots of fun with this one. I hope you enjoy it!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x 141!Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, brief blood and injury, hurt/comfort, brief suggestive themes, protectiveness, light angst

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Who did this?” Kyle bends forward at the waist, pressing a bag of frozen peas to your face. His concern is genuine. You can see that, but it’s strange. The two of you get on, but this is something else.

Kyle looks…angry like your injury personally offends him.

“It’s nothing,” you murmur. “Things happen during sparing. It’s fine.”

Kyle’s frown only deepens. He doesn’t believe you. And why should he? The person you were placed with took it too far. And it was all to impress him as if putting you in your place would somehow grant his favor.

It’s clearly done the opposite. He could care less about your sparring partner.

“It was your sparring partner, wasn’t it?”

You don’t answer. Just press the peas to your forehead a little harder.

This time, Kyle’s frown turns slightly upward. “Jokes on them, ya?”

You glance at him sideways. “How so?”

Kyle is grinning. It’s stunning. All pearly white teeth.

“Because I have my eye on someone else,” he says simply, as if that answers everything.

Though you cannot see yourself, you feel your face growing hot under Kyle’s gaze.

“You shouldn’t say thing like that,” you reply.

“Why? It’s true.”

John Price

“Who did this?”

“Why do you care so much, John?”

You attempt to pull your face out of his grasp but he holds firm.

“Of course I care,” he replies. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes, chests heaving. John is close. Too close. So close he could easily brush his lips against yours.

“I don’t know why,” you murmur.

“You do,” he affirms, authority in his tone.

Do you? Maybe. Perhaps. Deep within yourself you truly know the reason but can’t decide to speak it to the air. That would make this real. Whatever this is between the two of you.

‘Tell me who did this?”

“And do that what?”

“What the fuck I want to them, love.”

“It’s nothing. You shouldn’t worry about it,” you reply, again trying to escape from him.

But John isn’t having it. His other hand hooks around your upper arm, and then you’re pressed closed to him. He is so warm. All strength.

“Let go,” you say, but there is no volume behind it. It is weak. Not even a protest.

“Tell me,” he repeats, head dipping slightly.

Yes. Close enough to kiss.

“Tell me,” he says again, this time softer.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s blood beats heavy. It is tinged with metal. A lace of fire that cannot abate.

His boots slap against the linoleum floor. The overhead lights are bright. Clinical. He is a shadow here. A dark specter.

No one stops him. No one glances his way.

And why should they?

He is a man made fury.

There were hands put upon you. A training exercise taken too far. Simon was not there. And he doesn’t know why. Not exactly. But he’s furious. Protective. The fact that he could not stop this only infuriates him further.

To him, this is a failure.

He doesn’t come to a stop. Doesn’t knock. He barges right on in.

The nurse yelps. Spins suddenly. Face red.

You glance up, eyes wide at first but soothing slightly as they land on Simon. You’re bruised. Stitched up.

Fucking hell.

“Out,” barks Simon.

The nurse leaves but stares him down the entire time. He approaches the table, and lightly brushes the backs of his fingers against the wound on your forehead.

“Who did this?” he asks.

“Simon—”

“Which fucker?” he growls, bending forward slightly to look into your eyes.

“Should see the other guy,” you joke, smiling.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny shouldn’t feel this way. He shouldn’t. You’re not his. Even if he wishes it were so.

Every swing of his fist sends the building frustration outward, shooting into the massive boxing bag before him. It’s a poor substitute for the face he truly wants to smash. Several faces that is. Two specifically.

Who did this?

The words slipped from him unbidden. An instant anger. You had only scowled. Told him you could handle yourself. And you can. Johnny knows this. But he’s still fucking pissed about it. Still seething.

All the fucker got was a quick slap on the wrist. A promise to not do it again.

That sits sour in Johnny’s belly.

But you didn’t cave, no matter how much Johnny insisted that he’d take care of it on your behalf. So he is here, punching the shit out of something that isn’t flesh.

He wishes he could take away your pain. Take away the memory. Give it to himself to carry. You don’t turn on your own. There’s no honor in what happened.

But as much as he wants it to be true, Johnny can do nothing.

You are not his.

Even if he wants to be.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@pearljamislife @heeheehoohoohahahihi @eternallyvenus @burn1ngw00d @taysarchive

2K notes · View notes

puck-luck · 4 months ago

Text

change-up | luke hughes

warnings: unprotected p in v, creampie, oral f!receiving, multiple orgasms, squirting, dirty talk, praise praise praise, fingering & masturbation, references to prior & future hookups, hookup culture, TW: hinge😩, mentions of size difference pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: “because of how shy luke was when he first met reader, she thinks that he’s going to be inexperienced in bed and she‘ll to have to take the lead..but really lukey absolutely ruins her”, “could I please request luke Hughes smut where he loves being so much bigger than you”, “LOVEEDD the luke hughes one def write more dom stuff” wc: 4382

“Do you, maybe, want to go back to mine?” Luke asks quietly, his lips a mere nudge against the shell of your ear. Even in the loud bar, his voice cuts through the chatter like a flash of light.

You’d only met Luke earlier that night, a Hinge date gone right for you and your best friend. When Luke had invited you out to the bar he was at with some of his teammates, your best friend had jumped to point out that this could be your Kylie Kelce moment– you had to go and meet your Jason, even though Luke didn’t resemble the football player at all. Not that you minded.

You consider his words– Luke’s arm is thrown over your shoulder comfortably. His body is warm against yours. He’s been pretty shy all night, quiet enough that you felt like you had to control the conversation, but while Luke was in the bathroom, one of his buddies had revealed that that was normal for Luke. He was a quiet boy around new people– it didn’t mean he didn’t like you.

Clearly, it didn’t mean he didn’t like you. If he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t be inviting you back to his apartment. You’re not a fool. You know what that means.

Regardless, you agree. “Sure,” you say with a smile.

Luke returns the smile, leaning over you to gesture towards the bartender. He closes his tab, which houses both his and your drinks. You each had only had two drinks, so you’re feeling tipsy, but not drunk enough to stop what’s about to happen.

Once Luke has closed out, he guides you to his car and opens the door in a gentlemanly way for you. The ride to his home is silent save for the country music playing from the radio. Luke’s hand rests on your knee, a weight that has you squirming.

As shy as he is, you’ve come to realize that Luke’s love language is easily physical touch. He’s been sweet when he speaks with you, and he paid for all of your drinks, which kept words of affirmation and gift giving in the running for a while, but he’s kept a hand on you all night.

He had seemed hesitant to do so, playing it safe by touching your arm or your knee or your shoulder. When you hadn’t shrugged him off, but rather presented him with a smile and a lean into his heat, Luke had become more sure with it.

You don’t know anything about his sex life or how experienced or inexperienced he is, but you expect that you’ll have to do the same thing in bed. You’ll have to reassure him that yes, you actually want to do this, and you actually like this. He’ll want to make sure he’s being good for you, because he’s the sweetest, but if you’re honest, you’re a little disappointed that you’ll have to take the lead.

One of the reasons why you had matched with Luke on Hinge, aside from how cute he was, was that he looked like an athlete. You’ve always been someone who likes to be overpowered a bit, liking someone bigger than you, and Luke looked like he could throw you around easily. You wanted him to do so, but that just doesn’t seem like it’s in the cards tonight, and you can accept that. You’ll hook up with someone else who will toss you around eventually– but Luke is too pretty and too kind to pass up.

When he pulls into the garage and parks, Luke rounds the car and opens your door for you. He leads you by the hand into his apartment. Your purse slips down your arm and, once inside the apartment, Luke takes it from you and hangs it on a hook near his front door.

The apartment is still dark and you find yourself distracted trying to look at his furniture through the shadows. Giving up, you turn back to face Luke with a smile on your face.

Shockingly, he’s already moving toward you.

Luke pushes you against the wall, his hands on your hips. He’s kissing you, swallowing your noise of surprise. You’re frozen against him for just a moment, caught off guard by his insistent movements and confident grip on your sides. You melt into his touch when his presence finally registers, the catalyst being Luke’s fingers shifting to tug at the belt loops on your jeans. You place your forearms on his shoulders, crossing your wrists behind his head.

Luke pulls your hips against his, pressing into you with his growing length. He’s leaning over you, causing your shoulders and head to rest against the wall while your back and hips arch into him. Smoothly, he steps forward and moves one of his hands so he’s bracketing your head.

His tongue flexes when he enters your mouth, his muscle sliding against your own. You melt even further against him, moaning against his lips. You sag against the wall and Luke’s strong hands catch you, holding you upright.

His fingers roam along your skin, eventually resting on the swell of your ass. He squeezes your cheeks harshly, grunting in appreciation as your bottom fills his large hands. Luke lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, sitting prettily with your clothed core barely brushing his cock. You grind down against him, and Luke’s mouth curves in a smile, lips still touching your own.

“Eager,” he mumbles, sounding smug.

“Happily surprised,” you correct, words muffled and interrupted by your kisses. “I thought you’d be shy.”

“Mm, not when we’re alone,” Luke hums, holding you with one hand around your waist. He starts to march down the dark hallway, pushing open his bedroom door with a bang. “Not when I’m so close to getting what I want.”

Luke gently lays you on his bed, hands splayed across your back. He’s still kissing you, adamant and consistent. Now, he’s got gravity on his side. His body is covering your own, trapping you against the soft mattress. A soft curse leaves your mouth, filling Luke’s. You’re sharing the air between yourselves, aching for the other person.

“What do you want?” You ask, one of your hands finding his curls and toying with the strands.

Luke groans, parting from you to nuzzle against your neck as you continue to scratch against his scalp. He mouths over your neck messily, his tongue painting your skin like long brush strokes across a canvas.

“Want to mark you up,” Luke mutters, nipping at your neck. He sucks the fleshy skin at the base of your neck between your clavicles. “I want you to remember this night.”

You moan, curling a hand along his collar and pulling at the t-shirt adorning his body in an entirely unnecessary way, in your opinion. You expose his collarbone, sharp and smooth all at once, but you don’t get to reap the rewards.

Luke instead just chuckles and bats your hand away, capturing it in his own. He presses your wrist into the mattress above your head, exposing you further. “I want to make sure you think about me for weeks.” Luke feeds the promise to you with a swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip and a tiny nibble along the same path. “That every time you get yourself off, you think about how my fingers would be better than your own, or that my cock would fill you better than any toy you own, or any other boy you find.”

You knew that this would be a hook-up sort of thing, nothing more serious because Luke’s Hinge profile clearly stated he wasn’t looking for anything long term, but his possessive tone fuels a fire in you that has you whining and tugging his hair.

He shifts your hand to join the other, his fingers gripping both of your wrists while his other hand starts to explore your body. He dances over the curves of your breasts, along your elongated stomach. Your ribs are prominent and your stomach is flatter with your back against the bed– and Luke touches your skin like you’re precious to him. For a first night together, you already feel so seen.

After caressing your skin, Luke pulls your shirt up and bundles the fabric near the base of your neck, revealing your little lacy bralette to him. He licks along the band, going from your neck down the V of your chest, then back up to your other shoulder. You watch his nose bump against your curves and your jaw slackens a bit with the possibilities that are running through your head.

You’d give anything to get his mouth on your clit, already swollen and pulsing with faux-lightning shocks from each of Luke’s touches.

“Eat me out,” you say, a push in the right direction. Boys like when girls speak their mind, right?

Luke stills, his lips hovering above your sternum. You watch him smirk, then resume his kissing, sweet wet pecks marking the space where your breasts meet. “Lost your manners?” He finally asks, pulling away from your body to remove your shirt. He leaves it tangled along your wrist, wrapping it a few times and tucking the end into the band of your watch to secure the fabric in place.

You pout petulantly and Luke slides off the bed, kneeling between your legs that are bent over the side of the bed. He runs a finger along the seam of your jeans, taking extra care to rub his knuckle over your clothed entrance. You keen and he draws his hand up, resting it on your mound with his thumb stationary and heavy against your clit.

“Baby, I want to,” Luke assures you, his thumb lifting up and patting your clit a few times, causing you to jolt. “But I can’t until you ask me nicely.” He starts to rub your clothed clit, up and down in slow movements. He’s peering up at you with wide eyes, blinking like he’s innocent even though he’s driving you crazy.

“Please?” You try, your voice a little squeaky.

A tiny smile on his face, Luke tilts his head at you. “You can do better than that,” he says, shifting forward to plant a kiss where his thumb rested. “Give it a second try.”

“Please eat me out, Luke,” you say, putting another pout on your face for good measure.

“Better,” Luke teases, trailing off. He reaches for your zipper, dragging it down. He inches the denim down your legs, revealing the panties that you’re practically soaking with your slick. They match your bralette– a purposeful decision that doesn’t do unnoticed by Luke. He thumbs over your clit again, then dips lower to flick over the wet spot staining the fabric. “Keep going. I want you to beg.”

He removes your pants with a kiss to the inside of your knee. His hands move to your thighs, feeling up the skin, keeping you warm in the chilled apartment. His breath passes over your core as he switches sides and you ache for him. It breaks the floodgates and you give him exactly what he wants, falling into that submissive role you’re able to fill so well.

“I need to feel your mouth on me, Luke. I know it’ll be so good– I know you’ll make me feel so good. Fuck, Luke, I want to come on your tongue. Taste me, please, please fuck me with your tongue.”

Luke’s crooked grin returns, his teeth peeking out from behind his lips and glinting at you. “Such dirty words for such a pretty girl,” he teases, but he hooks his fingers along the crotch of your panties and tugs them to the side, revealing your wet folds. He flexes his tongue, pointing it into a solid spear that he uses to spread your lower lips and locate your entrance. “Let’s see how fast I can make you come,” Luke murmurs before diving in and lathering your clit in a wet kiss.

He pushes your legs apart, using his strong hands to pin your hips to the bed and keep them there. You want to wiggle out from under him and grind against his face, but Luke forces you to relinquish control with his size and strength.

It’s just what you wanted. Whining and tugging at the fabric around your wrists (easily removable, although you choose not to do so), you relax against the mattress and let Luke have his way with you.

He loves it, eating you out like he could do this for hours, like he could die happy between your leg. He’s moaning against you and massaging praise into your skin, all while licking every inch of your cunt. He fucks his tongue into you, he spits along your folds and watches the saliva drip down the crack of your behind before scooping it back up with his tongue and closing his lips around your clit. He leaves you wetter and wetter each time he pulls away, admiring his handiwork from a distance with a slack jaw before locating his next target and assaulting it with his tongue and gentle scrapes of his teeth. The first time he swept his bottom teeth against your clit, you flinched, but it quickly became a moan for more.

You’ve always been a glutton, addicted to toeing the line between pleasure and pain.

It surprises you that Luke is the same way– although he would prefer to inflict the sensation than receive it. You align perfectly.

The sharp press of his tongue inside you draws a litany of noises from your mouth and it reinvigorates Luke’s efforts, with him flicking the muscle as far as he can within your cunt. He clutches at your skin, reaching under you to envelop both of your ass cheeks in his palms and lift your pussy to meet his face. There’s no room for reprieve, no space between you, and Luke is bullying your core with inconsistent nudges of his nose to your clit.

“Luke, my clit,” you beg, chest heaving with how badly you yearn for your release. “Please.”

“You can come without that,” Luke replies, licking over the bundle once in consolation before returning to your hole, where you’re leaking fluids. Slick, saliva, and your impending orgasm all find their way onto Luke’s tongue, running down his chin and moistening the bed beneath you. You can feel the sheets growing wet beneath you, but you don’t care. Luke is making you feel even better than you imagined he would.

You come over his tongue with a series of moans, bringing your still-tied hands down to his hair and tugging at his locks. Luke flicks over clit with quick kitten licks, only stopping when you’re crying out from oversensitivity

Luke kisses up your body, capturing your nipples between his lips over the lace fabric of your bralette, leaving the peaks pointed and cold when his mouth travels further north.

He brings his lips to yours, ravishing the plush curves until they’re red and bruised. All the while, Luke mumbles praises to you until they blur together and you’re arching your back to feel his torso against yours again.

“You wanna go again?” Luke checks, nibbling on your bottom lip. “Ready to give me another one?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, nodding and knocking your nose against his. He leans in and gives you a proper Eskimo kiss before pecking you one last time.

Luke uses his strong hands to maneuver you the way he wants– chest pressed into the bed, ass pulled up and flush with his groin as he kneels behind you. He snaps the band of your bralette against your shoulderblade, then kneads the skin of your hips.

“Close your eyes, babydoll,” Luke commands in a gentle voice. “I want you to feel this, just focus on feeling me.”

He rolls his hips against your behind, his cock still clothed but poking at the fabric like it’s trying to find its mark and sink into your heat. He pulls you against him and you wiggle your hips, obeying his command and closing your eyes. Your t-shirt fell from your wrists during the repositioning, so you clutch freely at the pillow under your head with one hand and hold your breast with the other. You squeeze the skin, moaning at the pleasure.

Luke brings your attention back to him with a sharp spank, making you yelp and clench down with both of your hands, scrambling for something to ground you. Luke chuckles and spanks you again, harder this time and on your other cheek.

“Can’t wait to see this ass bounce,” Luke announces, smirking obviously even though you can’t see it. “I’m gonna make sure it’s pretty and pink while I fill your pussy up.”

If your eyes weren’t shut, they’d be rolling in your head at his words. You’re helpless, reduced to a moaning mess beneath Luke.

You had no idea that the night would turn out like this, having fully expected to push him down and ride him until he came inside of you because he just couldn’t take the pleasure any longer. The tables have turned– now you’re the one leaking beneath him, your hole spread open from his thorough meal and positively waiting for him.

Luke disappears from behind you to remove his shorts, you assume. You keep your eyes closed and you hold your position, hoping your obedience will result in a reward.

His voice washes over you, warming you like he’s still draped over your shoulder back at the bar.

“Keep yourself full for me while I grab something, eh?” Luke asks, a prodding question that you’re scrambling to fulfill before he can even finish his sentence.

Your middle two fingers slide into your hole, a wet squelch pushing a breath of a laugh out of Luke from his distance. You grind against the heel of your hand, spreading your knees for more leverage.

“Good girl,” Luke coos, making his way back onto the bed. He’s behind you once again, naked, and you wish you could open your eyes and sneak a peek at his cock. You want to see how well endowed he is, feeling him brush against your thigh before a line of spit drips down your crack and crawls toward your hole.

You fuck yourself on your fingers, hips rocking back. There are whimpers and whines filling the room, sounding needy and desperate for more, and it takes you a minute to realize that the words are muffled into the pillow, falling from your mouth. Biting down on the pillow to silence yourself, you curl your fingers inside yourself, hoping to reach your g-spot. In this position, you fall just short.

Luke’s index finger traces over the valley of your fingers, nearing your entrance. He’s silent, his moves calculated, and his index finger presses into you. He joins your middle and ring finger, his index finger reaching your insides in a way that has you keening. You can feel his fingertips against your nailbeds, then Luke wiggles his finger in further.

You feel like you actually drip onto the bed when he pets over your g-spot, the spot that you couldn’t find on your own. Your knees are wide and your hips are slowly coming lower and lower. Your body is defaulting to the position in which you’ve gotten off so many times– hips flush against the bed, clit rubbing against your palm as you clench down on your own fingers.

Luke uses his knee to bring your ass back up to its previous height, swatting at your flesh when you let out a complaint at the loss. Your clit is feeling neglected, practically calling out for pleasure, but the feeling of your fingers– and Luke’s– inside you is too good to take away.

So Luke does it for you. He removes his finger from your heat and digs under your knuckles, removing your digits from their wet home. The loss of contact comes with a devastating empty feeling and Luke soothes you with a cooed praise when you express your discontent.

He solves the problem by slapping his thick cockhead against your open hole, resting it there until you’re squirming against him and pleas are leaving you with increasing intensity and higher pitch.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” Luke murmurs, pinching your skin as a reprimand. “You’ve been so good, listening to me so well. I’m going to reward you, don’t worry. Let me take care of you.”

He inches his cock inside your pussy achingly slow. You can feel every inch of him, every vein rubbing against your walls. You can feel the precum leaking from his slit and mixing with your own wetness. His tip finally nudges at your cervix, kissing the opening with another blurt of precum, and you ache for Luke to fill you up. You wish you were facing him so that he could drop a line of spit onto your tongue in a similar way.

When Luke starts to move, drawing himself out of you then forcing his way back in, all images disappear from your mind. His cock is all you can focus on– the warmth, how it’s pulsing inside of you, how it’s stretching your hole even though you had three fingers inside of it just minutes ago.

Luke is consistent, fucking into you with hard and sure thrusts that leave you moaning. A puddle of drool is pooling on the pillow and your mouth is nearly constantly open, your tongue dry and breaths ragged. Your noises continue in their high-pitched tone, spurring Luke on. He pounds your pussy, ruining it for everyone else.

Luke was right. You’d be thinking about him for weeks to come.

He has you shrieking with each slap to your ass, the skin growing hot and becoming more red with each swat. You had no idea that you could be so loud in bed– you’ve normally got a handle on yourself. Normally, you’re not so wet that each thrust results in a pornographic sound of skin meeting skin.

Luke is in a league all of his own.

“So tight,” he groans. “‘M gonna come, baby.”

“Come in me,” you beg. “Fuck, Luke, come in me.”

“I will,” he promises. “I want you to come first.”

Your abdomen is tight, burning with the need to release. You feel like you could explode and the thought pops into your head– you’d never been able to before, not with another man nor when fucking yourself, but you bet you could squirt now.

“Can I touch?” You ask, desperate. “Please, wanna touch my clit. Wanna come for you. Wanna be good. Please, Luke, tell me I can.”

“Go on,” he encourages. “Let me feel you.”

It’s like an out of body experience. You have control of your hands, but your fingers feel foreign as they find your clit and start to rub frantic circles over the bundle. Your chest is snug against the bedsheets. You spread your legs even further, needing the space to keep yourself open and feel even wider. Luke notices and loops a hand under your thigh, lifting the leg and holding it up. He’s able to keep you balanced, able to keep you steady as your fingers slide over your dripping cunt.

His grunts and moans spur you on, your back arching. His tip finds your g-spot and abuses it, knocking the air out of you with each bump.

“Luke,” you whine, his name elongated on your tongue.

“I’m here, baby, let go.”

He’s reassuring and calm, so sure behind you and panting. He drapes himself over your back, kissing behind your ear.

It’s the smooth brush of his lips that sends you over the edge. Your vision, already black, turns into a staticky void that you fall down like you’re skydiving.

Luke is your parachute, fucking you through the spray of your orgasm and releasing his own seed inside of you. He fills you up with his warmth, fucking you until you’re sagging on the bed and breathing hard, barely able to move. Luke drags his cock out of your cunt and brings some of his come with it, although he promptly plugs you with his fingers and a kiss once he’s turned you over onto your back.

His fingers are mostly still inside you, slowly pumping in and out in a way that isn’t meant to derive pleasure. He simply wants to feel you. His kisses are soft and sweet, soothing you and bringing you back down to Earth.

Eventually, you regain control of your limbs. You shift one of your legs over Luke’s hips and cuddle close to him, rolling your hips against his finger. Your tongue slides against his, tasting your first orgasm on his lips.

The moment dies slowly. You’re both tired, ready to sleep. Luke draws his fingers out of your entrance, pecking your lips one last time.

“Go pee, baby,” he tells you. “You’re not getting a UTI on my account. I’ll get some PJs for you while you’re gone, then we can take a shower in the morning after I serve you some breakfast in bed.”

“Mmm,” you hum, beaming. You lean up to kiss Luke again. “How’d you get so good at aftercare? Lots of experience?”

“Just want to make sure you’re satisfied,” Luke replies, fondly smiling at you when you roll away and patter towards his ensuite bathroom. He laughs a little as you cringe, the mixture of come seeping out of your hole and dripping down your thighs.

“How about I take a quick shower now and we’ll discuss that breakfast in bed when I’m done?” You tease, already pulling back his shower curtain and turning the nozzles to find your optimum heat.

“Don’t pee in my shower,” Luke calls, pushing the covers off the bed and gathering the wet sheets to throw in the wash. He’ll put new sheets on the bed while you’re cleaning yourself.

“I’m not!” You deny, affronted. “How dare you assume such a thing?”

The last thing you hear before stepping into Luke’s shower is his cheeky, throaty laugh. You fail to bite back the smile that comes with it.

#puck-luck's fics #andy writes anything🍄#luke hughes #luke hughes smut #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #lh43 #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey smut

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r1elle · 4 months ago

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desperate male lead syndrome is making a strong comeback in 2024 and i’m here for it!! so i wrote about this annoying loser (your honour i love him so much)

husband atsumu drabble because this is what the people want ^^ (i’m people)

“baby, don’t go looking at yer’ poor husband like that..” atsumu pouts, poking your cheeks at the sight of your evidently disdained face.

okay. you could go do that. you could also just forget the broken ceramic on the floor, still not cleaned up because atsumu would rather make amends with you first than cleaning up the potential risk that was right infront of you both.

honestly, you couldn’t tell whether you should be glad, or concerned.

“i’m not mad at you,’ you say, the expression on your face clearly betraying your words. “don’t worry about it, atsumu.”

you thought that maybe your words would ease the blonde man’s resolve, however it seemed to have only made it worse for him.

“atsumu?! no baby, no love, no ‘tsumu?!” he stresses, hands going up to his mouth.

you stare at his rather dramatic delivery,—and was that the life in his eyes flying away?? he looks like a modern rendition of casper the ghost.

“i’ll do the dishes for a week, no,—a month! i’ll buy ya’ those heels ya’ told me not to buy at the mall!!” atsumu frantically spouts, saying anything he could think of as he continues to cling onto your figure, his face mushing onto your neck and shoulder area.

you shut your eyes. just.. how could you stay annoyed? look at his pouty face, how his ears seemed to be more red than the rest of his skins current complexion. he practically made it impossible for you to even be the least bit mad, and you would’ve felt as guilty as a convict for even attempting to do so. that’s the kind of effect he had on you.

in response, you merely sigh. but there wasn’t any bark to it. “or, you could clean up the shattered pot on the floor.” you say, making sure to bring your tone to a more gentle and reassuring one.

atsumu turns to at you once again, his blonde locks tickling your skin as he moves.

“yer’ not mad anymore?” he beams. “i mean, we could always make another pot, right? how ‘bout it?” he says, hopeful eyes staring directly to your orbs.

in all realness, you genuinely weren’t mad at him, —(as much as he would sulk and say you definitely were), no. you were just sad at the fact that you and atsumu’s ceramic that you both had worked so hard to sculpt and paint on your first date was now shattered on the floor, all but beyond repair.

“i was never mad at you, promise.” you say. “just a bit disappointed. i liked that pot a lot, you know.” your hand reaches for atsumu’s cheek, pinching it slightly. physical touch always seemed to reassure him more than anything else.

atsumu mentally notes that he should make you breakfast in bed the following morning as he stares at your affirming expression. he plants various of pecks on your face after doing so.

“i’m sorry, princess.” atsumu coo’s, his hand pushing away the little hairs on your forehead as he plants a kiss on it.

“i’ll make it up to ya’, i promise.”

— • —

now, you know that you most definitely shouldn’t be all too surprised, considering that, well, —this was miya atsumu we were talking about,

but seriously….

you stare at the little bundle of fur politely sitting on your lap as you rub your eyes, just having come out of your nights sleep. you also happen to notice the smell of pancakes and hot chocolate coming from the bedside table.

“ ‘tsumu, where—?..no, when did you get this dog?”

“i have my ways.” he proudly grins. “but look, it’s yer’ favourite breed!”

“….yes, i know. but where did you—“

“we have a daughter now, hehe.”

“since when did i agre—“

“so adorable, definitely takes after her mommy and daddy. look at the bow on her head!”

“ ‘tsum-“

“i love you.”

“dont change the subject!”

——————————————————————————

atsumu brainrot is real and clocking me out (kageyama i can explain)

update: TYSM for 1k+ notes omg ??!! thank u all for loving this loserboy with me i feel so heard 😢😢🙏🏽

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hon3y-y · 1 year ago

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ “pussy put his ass to sleep, now he callin’ me NyQuil…”

Suguru x fem!reader

Suguru used to swear off relationships, he liked to fuck and labels were exhausting. He felt strongly about this, until he had met you. He liked the intimacy, the connection, and the safety he felt with you. At times, he wondered the possibility of soulmates with the way you two seemed to fit into each other so naturally.

Your pussy being able to put him in a coma was just a bonus.

Suguru had sweat dripping from his brow, his eyes shut tight as he felt the warm stickiness of your wet cunt wrapped tightly around his thick cock. The feeling of Suguru's tip hitting your cervix nearly made you stop breathing. His cock leaking into you as he whined into your ear, “so fuckin’ good!” getting lost in the feeling of your tight cunt sucking him in. He had you in missionary, wanting needing to see your reactions every time he pounded into you roughly. Your nails dug into his soft skin, your mouth wide open letting cries of pleasure bounce on the wall.

“Guru’, R-right there!” You let out a silent scream as a strong pressure fills your cunt. He sped up, biting your shoulder to hush his own moans and indulge in yours. “wa-it, suguru!—“ you gasped, trying to push him away. He laughed breathily at your attempts, pinning your hands above you head as your eyes began to water. “Nuh uh, not going anywhere..” moving one hand to your waist to lift you up a little, perfectly battering the most sensitive part of you. You squirmed as your vision started to blur, the intense feeling made your legs shake and release liquid from your swollen and puffy pussy. You laid there lifeless, trying to breathe as suguru pulled away to watch the way you twitched.

“Look at this pussy~” he cooed when you tried to close your legs, his fingers too much for how sensitive you’ve become. He pulled them apart, a sadistic look in his eye as he let a glob of cool spit land on your soaked cunt, using his thumb to spread it. You bit your lip to hold back a whine, your back arching off the bed. “Is it too much?” Your glossy eyes met his and you nodded. He leaned down to kiss your lips, “you still gonna’ help me cum?” You paused before nodding again, a little sniffle coming from you when you felt his dick grind against you.

“Such a good girl, my perfect girl..” he praised, pulling back to watch his tip push into you again. He looked at the way your brows furrow, a small whimper leaving your glossy lips. Suguru smirked before shoving himself into you fully, taking a sharp intake of breath and letting his head roll back, “fu—uck..”

you immediately tried to pull away only for him to grab your soft hips. “Don’t run baby—you can take it.” His voice strained, fucking into you harder than before, finally chasing his own release. His hand wrapped around your throat, your voice squeaking up higher as you begged for him to use you. You reached up to tweak his nipples making a shiver run up his spin, a choked moan escaping him. “That’s it baby, take that fuckin’ dick.”

He curled himself into your neck when he came, continuing his rutting to work the both of you through your orgasms. He came a lot, purring as you whispered affirmations to him. “Love your pussy..” he muttered into your ear, kissing your neck while trying to level his breathing and wrap his arms around you. You smiled and played with his hair, knowing how much he loves the feeling.

After noticing how quiet it got, you got suspicious. “suguru?” Looking down, only to notice he had fallen asleep, still inside of you and on top of you. You groaned and rolled your eyes, “get up! suguru?! You do this every time-“ you were cut off with a whine and silence again. Maybe you should’ve riden him instead…

A/n; saw some fan art of him and now he won’t leave my mind🛌 also, thinking of writing hockey player!suguru, can’t get the image of him skating with his long hair flowing behind him he’s so fucking fine.

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xinganhao · 2 months ago

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hii i love ur text imagines theyre so cuteee

can you please do one where svt reacts to their idol s/o dedicating a song to them at a concert? feel free to ignore!

🎤 svt when their idol s/o dedicates a song to them.

a/n: aaah tysm! this was such a cute request 😭 starting with maknae line, but hyungs to follow~

⌗ ┆hyung line ★ ₊ ˚ maknae line.

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: established relationship, idol!reader, pet names, headcanons under the cut.

🎤 headcanons .ᐟ

mingyu is going to try and act all nonchalant about it to you via text, but photos and videos later will prove otherwise. he's the type who will squish his face with his hands, who will be absolutely enthralled throughout your whole number. later, he'll walk up to you with his hands in his pockets— the picture of coolness— and joke something like, "took you long enough to dedicate a song to me!"

seokmin, out of everyone, would likely be the most excited to have a public declaration like that. concert goer etiquette be damned. he's beaming, jumping up and down in his seat, and screaming so loud that wonwoo has to smack him on the back of the head. backstage, seokmin will crush you in a hug and show off all the photos/videos he's taken of you (hint: it's over 300+).

minghao's attempts at not being flustered are dashes by the little signs— his ears turning red, his lips pursed in a smile. he fails to really survive the rest of the concert because his brain just keeps on replaying the way you'd so sweetly dedicated that song to him. when you see each other next, he'll softly compliment different aspects of your performance, and his eyes will shine as he playfully makes you guess his 'favorite' part.

seungkwan is the type to text you little affirmations/words of encouragement throughout the concert, even though he knows you won't see it until later. he probably drops the phone the moment you say that your solo stage is dedicated to 'my boo'. it's no use; he's bawling by the time the second chorus hits. jeonghan has to text you on his behalf. seungkwan is still a little teary-eyed later when he finds you and wraps himself around you.

it's just like vernon to zone out a bit and maybe miss the fact that you'd dedicated a song to him. he'd been too busy staring at your pretty face to catch the words, so he has to do a quick check if, in fact, the ballad is for him. when he confirms it, though, vernon just smiles to himself and imagines how he can tease you about it later.

oh, chan. he's a little slow on the uptake; you really should've said his name out there. when he hears that his favorite song of yours is for 'someone special', he spends the rest of the night sulking over you being so brazen in front of him. once clarifications are made, though, he compensates with a lot more physical affection than usual. and maybe he treats you to a meal, because he's just a little embarrassed over being such a big baby.

#svt smau #seventeen smau #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #── ᵎᵎ ✦ reqs #── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine

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livwritesstuff · 14 days ago

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Eddie and Steve and their three daughters are sitting around the kitchen table one evening when four-year-old Hazel asks –

“Now that I’m here, are you gonna get married soon?

Steve blinks.

The question isn’t entirely out of left field – not for Hazel, anyway, whose preschool teacher got married a few weeks ago and came back with all kinds of pictures and stories. Apparently, Hazel’s been eating it all up, and she’s their most romantical kid, so to speak, so that’s not really a shock.

Thing is, Eddie and Steve are already married – have been for six years this past May, so…

“Uh, we are married, Hazy-Jay,” Eddie answers before Steve has a chance to say anything.

Hazel’s face falls, her mouth parting.

“Huh?”

Steve inwardly cringes.

“You got married before?” Hazel asks, her chin quivering like she’s only a few moments away from tears (and she’s their most emotional kid too, so she probably is).

“People get married before they have kids, Hazel,” seven-year-old Robbie points out all matter-of-fact.

“Well,” Steve pauses, because, yeah, Robbie is mostly not wrong, but those pesky gay marriage laws had kept him and Eddie from getting married until Massachusetts finally legalized it in ‘04 (when Moe was three and Robbie six-ish months old and Hazel still two years away). He’s pretty sure that level of nuance might be lost on their four-year-old though.

“Not Dad and Papa,” Moe cuts in, “Me and you were there, Robbie.”

“Moe,” Eddie mutters, “Not helping.”

“What?” Moe shrugs, “It’s true!”

Hazel looks positively devastated by this information.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“Well, hon, we didn’t know you were coming,” Steve tries, “We didn’t know any of you were coming!”

“That’s not true,” Moe points out, “You knew about Robbie.”

“Moe,” Eddie hisses.

Steve reaches behind him to snag a framed photo of him and Eddie and Steve and Moe and Robbie all smiling at the camera on the steps of Boston City Hall off the shelf it perches on.

“You know this picture?” he asks as Hazel climbs into his lap. She nods, “This is from the day Dad and I got married.”

“It doesn’t look like a wedding,” Hazel says skeptically, her nose all scrunched up.

“‘Cause it wasn’t really a wedding,” Steve tells her, “We got married at a courthouse in Boston – same courthouse where we adopted you and where we adopted Moe and where we adopted Robbie.”

“Why did you adopted us?”

“Well, you know how sometimes we take emergency foster placements every once in a while and we’ll have a new friend for a few days?”

Hazel nods.

“Dad and I used to do that all the time,” he continues, “and that’s how we met Moe, and so for two years it was just me and Daddy and Moe, and then we found out that you guy’s mom was gonna have another baby, and then we met Robbie.”

“And then me?”

“And then you,” Steve nods, “It was me and Dad and Moe and Robbie for three years, and then one day we found out that your mom had another baby, and that was you.”

Hazel wordlessly mulls this over for a bit, and then she lets out a pensive little sigh.

“If you would’a known about me before, would you wait?”

“To get married? Of course we would’ve waited.”

“And then maybe you would’a had a real wedding?”

“Maybe,” Steve affirms, even though…probably not, because that shit is expensive and, seriously, nothing out there could have prepared Steve for the reality of their college savings goal doubling overnight.

“Where is our mom now?” Hazel then asks.

Moe, helpful as always, cuts in with, “She’s dead now.”

“Moe,” Eddie exclaims for the third time, “Jee-eez, read the room please!”

#and then all hell breaks loose #it’s important to note that none of this is new information for hazel #she’s emotional okay?#steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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mcdynamite · 11 months ago

Text

Kissing has never done all that much for Steve, if he’s honest.

It's just not really something he's ever given much thought to before - the way someone kisses - despite the fact that he's locked lips with plenty of people. For him, kissing has always been something nice, but not particularly special. It's never been earth-shattering. Never taken his breath away, the way people talk about in movies and books. It's just a way to be closer to someone, and it's nice, but it's never anything more than that.

Then, Steve kisses Eddie for the first time, and suddenly he gets it.

They're high when it happens, laying side by side in Eddie's unmade bed while the weed sinks into their bones. Steve loves the way it seems to slow down the world around them - makes everything syrupy and sweet, so he feels every brush of Eddie's fingers against his own in every inch of his body as they pass the joint back and forth.

The casual contact makes him long for more, and when he's high, Steve just...gives into the longing. He lets himself drift closer until they're pressed together so closely that Eddie can hide his face in Steve's uncharacteristically messy hair when he's trying to cover up a snort of laughter in response to Steve's deranged weed-induced musings.

Tonight, they meander their way through a directionless conversation - as they so often do when they get high together - until the joint is so small it nearly singes their fingertips. When Eddie finally sits up to stamp it out in the ashtray on the bedside table, Steve tries not to miss the feeling of Eddie's body against his own too much, knowing it'll be back soon enough.

"I'm thinking of handing over the DM throne to Will for the next oneshot, after we finish this campaign," Eddie says, speech slow and thoughtful as he puts out the blunt. "Think he'll be good at it."

Steve just hums, eyes heavy-lidded, gaze fixed on the curls he wants so badly to run his fingers through, just to know what it feels like. He's high enough to not care about the consequences when he decides fuck it, and reaches out to feel the soft ringlets beneath his fingertips.

"You're good at it," he muses - a delayed response to Eddie's comment. If Eddie is bothered by the way Steve is carefully petting his hair, he doesn't show it. Instead, he turns back to look down at Steve with a soft smile that makes Steve's insides feel all gooey.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, a hint of a smirk overtaking the softness. "You ready to admit that you like watching me play my little nerd game, Harrington?"

Steve blames the quiet whine that escapes his throat on the weed, along with the way he honest-to-God pouts in response to Eddie's words. He tugs on a lock of Eddie's hair petulantly. "Don't like it when you call me that."

Eddie's face does something strange then, and Steve can't quite parse out what it means with the weed making his brain all foggy. He looks...surprised? Fond? Maybe both?

"Sorry, Stevie," he replies, teasing but somehow genuine at the same time. Steve smiles dopily, an expression that Eddie returns. "That better?"

Satisfied, Steve nods. Hums in affirmation. "Yeah. I like that one."

And it's true. Steve loves when Eddie calls him Stevie, because Eddie always sounds so fond when he does, and it makes Steve's heart feel too big for his chest.

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, still grinning as he leans down until he's propped up on one elbow, hovering just over Steve on the bed. "What else do you want me to call you, hm? Stevie? Steve? M'lord?"

The last one makes Steve laugh and close his eyes, happy to bask in the sound of Eddie's voice as he floats along with their conversation.

"Sir Steven? Sweetheart?" Eddie continues, and Steve's heart jumps just a bit at the second one. Then, Eddie murmurs, "Baby?"

And Steve's eyes fly open.

Steve stares at his friend with wide eyes - lips parted as a soft, punched-out oh escapes him - and it's weird, is the thing. Because Steve has been called baby before, lovingly by his grandmother when he was still a little boy causing mischief while his parents weren't watching, meanly by boys on the playground when he cried over something silly like a scraped knee…and when he got older, teasingly by the girls he took on dates.

It's not a new name for him, but it feels groundbreaking nonetheless.

Because the word sounds so much better coming from Eddie's mouth than anyone else's. It's soft, and fond, and knowing, and...

It's longing.

"Yeah,” Steve croaks. "Yeah."

"Which one? Sir Steven?" Eddie asks playfully, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. He grins maniacally when Steve huffs and shakes his head in disappointment. "No? Which one was it, then, that you liked the most?"

"Eddieeee," Steve complains, burying his flushed face into the pillow and avoiding his friend's gaze. "You know which one."

Eddie shakes his head in an almost scolding manner and Steve is convinced he must've moved closer, because Steve can feel Eddie's breath against his skin, and the air in the room feels about a hundred degrees hotter.

"Nuh-uh, Stevie," Eddie says, poking him playfully in the ribs. "You gotta tell me which one."

Steve hesitates, feeling more and more self-conscious by the second. He sort of wants to hide, but he also really wants Eddie to call him that again. It's probably thanks to his intoxicated brain that he allows himself to answer truthfully. "Baby," he murmurs, uncharacteristically shy.

"Yeah?" Eddie says, voice and smile softening in tandem. "You like when I call you baby, Stevie?"

Steve stares up at him with wide eyes, hardly able to believe this is really happening, and nods. "Yeah. That one."

Eddie is so close, now, that Steve can feel the warmth that emanates from his skin; can see the flecks of gold in his eyes amongst the molten chocolate brown. He's got freckles - Steve realizes. Tiny little dots across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks that form constellations on his skin. Steve thinks, maybe a bit deliriously, that he would be perfectly happy spending hours tracing them, the way astronomers of old once traced the stars.

"Eddie..." he breathes, heart pounding as he begins to feel more and more desperate for...for something. Anything to let him know that he's not the only one succumbing to the gravitational pull between them.

Eddie blinks slowly, and his eyes widen as though he's just realized something important. Steve watches his throat bob nervously before Eddie finally whispers, "Yeah, baby?"

Steve inhales sharply through parted lips - a soft, plaintive gasp that draws Eddie's eyes to his lips, and-

Oh.

That's what Steve wants, isn't it?

"I-" Steve tries, helpless to stop his own gaze from falling on Eddie's lips - pink and parted and just a little bit chapped, and so, so close.

"Baby," Eddie says again, and this time it's different. Unintentional. Like Eddie said it without meaning to. And maybe it's just the weed, but Steve swears he can feel the word burrowing its way into his chest and settling around his heart like a blanket. It makes his whole body feel warm - something only made worse by the hot coal of desire that begins smoldering low in his gut.

He's so lost in it all that he can't even bring himself to feel embarrassed when he whispers, "Please."

Steve waits with bated breath until finally, any remaining nervousness retreats from Eddie's eyes, and Eddie smiles in that way that makes Steve's stomach flutter. It's such a pretty smile. Steve can only watch as it grows closer, going cross-eyed for the briefest moment in his quest to to stare at Eddie's lips until suddenly his eyes are fluttering shut, because...because...

Because Eddie kisses him with lips still curled into a smile, and Steve thinks - utterly nonsensically - that feeling Eddie's lips against his own is so much better than just looking at them. The thought makes him giggle, just a bit, and he finds himself grinning into the kiss, too.

They part for a moment so Steve can let out another quiet giggle, and Eddie seems to pause for a moment, smiling down at Steve with poorly concealed affection. "Baby," he murmurs reverently, and then he's leaning down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss.

This time, Steve is ready for it, but it draws a muffled whimper out of him nonetheless. His nose fills with the scent of weed and cigarettes and cheap cologne - the smell of Eddie - and it's so overwhelmingly good. He lets his lips fall open on a gasp...doesn't close them when Eddie tentatively brushes his tongue against Steve's own. He shuts his eyes, because the press of Eddie's hand to his cheek and Eddie's chest to his own feel like so much more like that.

Eddie breaks the kiss to gasp in a breath, and inexplicably, that's what really sends every last bit of restraint in Steve's brain packing. It's so simple, so ordinary - the soft, quick sip of air Eddie takes in. It's a breathy little sound that Steve has heard from countless others before, but maybe that's why it puts him in this unfamiliar chokehold of wanting.

This isn't just anyone.

This is Eddie.

And Eddie is making those quiet, lovely little sounds because he's kissing Steve, and Steve is very rapidly realizing that he is utterly incapable of being normal about any of this.

He feels his cheeks go hot as he forces his heavy limbs to move so he can tangle his fingers in Eddie's curls, holding him close (because Steve thinks he might die if Eddie stops kissing him, now). And it's bliss. It's addictive. It's ruinously tender, and Steve feels himself unraveling from within. Feels the knots in his heart - left behind by absent parents, cruel friends, and distant girlfriends - turn to dust at the gentlest brush of Eddie's lips.

He whimpers into Eddie's mouth and clings to him even tighter, feeling his throat grow strangely tight as his eyes sting at the corners, and when Eddie pulls away he's got a small furrow in his brow, just under his bangs.

"Stevie?" Eddie murmurs. His eyes dart to Steve's cheeks, and when he brushes his thumb along the skin just under Steve's eye, it drags a bit of wetness with it. Only then does Steve realize...he's crying.

And Eddie is wiping away his tears.

"I..." Steve croaks, eyes wide and spilling more tears with every blink. He drags his hands down from Eddie's hair to rest on his chest, beginning to curl into himself as the embarrassment sinks in.

Christ, he's crying. And all they've done is kiss.

Eddie's frown deepens, but he doesn't pull away completely. Instead, he lets their noses brush and breathes, "Baby..."

Steve's breath hitches.

"You're shaking, sweetheart," Eddie continues, still brushing Steve's tears away with gentle fingers. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Steve gasps hurriedly, because as far as he understands, it's the truth. "Nothing's wrong, I just..." He closes his eyes. Swallows the lump in his throat and admits with a trembling voice, "I didn't know it could be like this."

He opens his eyes and sees Eddie's expression soften, but the concern remains. "What do you mean?"

"I just..." Steve tries, sniffling and letting out a quiet, distressed laugh. He slams his eyes shut again and rubs them roughly with his palms, trying to force the tears back into his body. "Jesus, this is fucking embarrassing, man."

"Steve..." Eddie murmurs. He sounds sad. Conflicted. Like he's not sure what to do or how to help - if he should stay or go - and that just won't do, because Steve is certain he'll drift away on the breeze without Eddie to ground him. He's got to try to explain, even with his thoughts still feeling syrupy slow from the weed.

He wants to tell Eddie that he's kissed dozens of people before, but kissing them never felt like this. He wants to explain that he's used to taking the lead, and that it's nice having someone else set the pace, for once. He wants to tell Eddie about the way most people he's kissed have done so - frantically...lustfully. Kissing has always been a simple means to an end. And it's never made Steve feel like this.

What he actually manages to say is slightly different, though.

"No one's ever kissed me like they love me, before."

His eyes are still covered by his own hands, so he can't see what is surely a stunned expression on Eddie's face, but he can hear the way Eddie gasps in response to Steve's words.

It’s too much, he thinks. He's said too much, fast-forwarded too far into the movie. It's too early to be talking about love. Steve knows this. It's just...

His stupid, floaty little brain can't envision a world where someone kisses the way Eddie does without being hopelessly, irrevocably in love.

"Shit," Steve breathes after several minutes of silence. Or maybe it's several seconds. He really doesn't know. Time feels funny, when he's high. "I know that's, like, way too much. I'm too much. I don't know why I-"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts, and Steve snaps his mouth shut. He feels Eddie's hands wrap carefully around his wrists to pull them from his eyes. Eddie is being so careful with him...like he can't see that his tenderness is exactly the thing that’s ripping Steve apart at the seams.

Steve wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to drag Eddie back down and kiss him until he can't breathe. Until Eddie's sweetness becomes warm and comforting instead of feeling like the scalding heat of jumping into a hot tub after a dip in the cold waters of the pool.

"Baby, look at me," Eddie says softly.

Steve is helpless but to obey.

Eddie's gaze is sad but kind when Steve finally meets it with his own. He's got the barest hint of a smile on his pretty lips - the same ones Steve so desperately wants to feel against his own, again - and Steve feels his stomach swirl with something he can't quite describe.

"It's not too much," Eddie continues, voice steady. "And neither are you, okay? You, Steve Harrington, are never too much. Not to me."

The words settle over Steve like a blanket, and he can't decide whether it's comforting or suffocating. He just wants to stop talking about things so they can move on. He just wants Eddie.

"Eds..." he rasps desperately. "I don't- I just want-" He cuts himself off with the hitching breath of what may be a sob. He's not really sure, at this point.

"What can I do, honey?" Eddie says, and he really needs to stop with the pet names, or Steve might genuinely fracture into pieces. "What do you want?"

Steve is sunk too deep into the syrupy slow feeling of the weed - too desperate to feel Eddie pressed against him again - to do anything but tell the truth.

"Just want you," he says.

Eddie smiles - eyes crinkling at the corners - and Steve breathes the sight in like oxygen. "You have me, baby," Eddie murmurs. He's rubbing small, comforting circle into the sensitive skin of Steve's wrists now, and it's perfect. It's wonderfully, disgustingly perfect.

"I do?" Steve asks dumbly. His brain feels fifteen seconds behind everything, but he thinks that's probably okay. Eddie seems to be just fine waiting for him to catch up.

"Yeah, Stevie," Eddie chuckles quietly. "Had me for a long time, now. Just wasn't sure if you would want me the way I wanted you."

"You want me," Steve says breathlessly, more to himself than to Eddie. "You wanna kiss me."

Eddie's resulting laugh is a bit louder, a bit brighter, this time. "I do," he says. The sadness is fading from his eyes, giving way to something that looks an awful lot like elation. Steve remains still and watches, entranced, as Eddie carefully hauls himself up until he can swing a leg over Steve's to straddle him.

Still smiling broadly, Eddie leans down until their faces are mere inches apart, studying Steve with those big, brown eyes. "You gonna let me?" he asks Steve, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Steve nods, lips parted in surprise he can't quite seem to shake, and Eddie's expression softens.

"Gonna let me kiss you like I love you, Stevie?" Eddie whispers.

Steve's not sure when, exactly, his tears had begun to dry up, but he knows they must have at some point, because they're returning with a vengeance, now. "Please," he breathes.

Eddie shifts, and Steve expects Eddie to go right back to kissing him, but that's not what he does.

Instead, Eddie releases one of Steve's wrists and cups his cheek tenderly. This time, the feeling of his thumb brushing the tears away is a familiar one, and it makes Steve smile dopily.

"You know the reason I kiss you like I love you?" Eddie asks. Steve shakes his head and tracks Eddie's gaze as it drifts towards the place where his fingers are still wrapped around Steve's wrist. His lips quirk into a smile as he uses his grip to pin Steve's hand to the mattress, right beside Steve's head, and laces their fingers together.

Their noses are brushing, now, and Eddie's hips are resting on Steve's, and Eddie's hair has fallen around them like a curtain to keep the rest of the world out, and it's so much. Eddie is everywhere, and he's everything, and Steve is completely, unquestioningly in love with him - probably has been in love with him for ages, now, and just never let himself think too hard about it.

"I kiss you like I love you, Steve Harrington," Eddie breathes, and their lips brush as he speaks. "Because I love you."

And the thing is…Steve has spent his entire life wondering what it would feel like to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was loved. It's something that's eluded him for twenty years.

So it's all the more miraculous when Eddie kisses him again, and suddenly, Steve knows. He knows that Eddie Munson loves him. He feels it in the way Eddie kisses him slowly and deliberately, like it would never have crossed Eddie's mind not to. He feels it in their linked hands, in the way Eddie squeezes his hand when Steve makes a desperate, wanton sound into his mouth.

He feels it when Eddie brushes the hair out of his eyes and smiles before kissing Steve's forehead, then his nose, and then his lips again.

Feels it when Eddie's lips begin to wander down his neck.

When Eddie sucks a mark into the thin skin above his collar bone, just because Steve begs him too.

When Eddie pulls Steve's shirt over his head with careful hands, then lets Steve do the same, because Steve needs the intimacy of skin on skin.

He feels it when Eddie stops Steve's wandering hands from venturing too far south with a firm grip and apologetic eyes, because Eddie wants him - of course he does - but not when they've been smoking. Not when there's even the slightest chance that Steve might wake up and regret it in the morning.

And he hears it, too, later that night when they're laying in Eddie's bed exchanging soft, sleepy kisses, unwilling to drift off and let the night end, just yet.

Their legs are woven together - bare, aside from their boxers - and Steve has lost track of how long they've been tangled up in each other like this. He doesn't particularly care, though. He's pretty sure he could happily spend the rest of his life exactly like this.

"Love you, Stevie," Eddie whispers against his lips. They both smile into the next kiss, and Steve's heart is full to bursting, because he believes it. He knows, now, what it feels like to be loved...to be adored.

"I love you," he murmurs in reply, relishing in Eddie's sharp intake of breath. He giggles a bit, for no reason other than the pure joy that's been coursing through his body all night. "God," he laughs. "I fucking love you, Eddie Munson.

Eddie is quiet for a moment before his face splits into a grin that could rival Steve's own, and he's so goddamn beautiful that Steve almost feels like crying again.

He doesn't cry, though. He just watches adoringly as Eddie smiles and nudges Steve's nose with his own. "Yeah, baby?" Eddie teases.

"Yeah, Eds," he answers simply.

And he's pretty sure Eddie knows - is pretty sure Eddie can feel it - because Steve kisses him for the umpteenth time that night, and he pours every ounce of his heart into it.

Steve kisses Eddie like he loves him, because he does. God, help him, he does.

And Eddie?

Eddie kisses Steve like he loves him back, and Steve gets it now, because it’s more than just a kiss.

It’s perfect.

It’s earth-shattering.

It’s everything.

Shout-out to @lyphyshard for the beta!

For more of my Steddie blurbs and one-shots, check out my masterlist!

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #soft steddie #steddie fluff #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #first kiss #cw: weed #stranger things #i'm so normal about them

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loves0phelia · 4 days ago

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hii, I was wondering if I could request something with rafe! when they’re stranded in Morocco, at night, all of them together after Sarah and JJ come back, around the fire, all bonding and rafe being a bit apart, maybe reader tries to talk to him, trying to make him feel less alone or something? would love to see what you come up with!<3

Crazier

Summery: Realizing your as crazy as Rafe for loving him.

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: mention of murder, grammar mistakes.

A/N: thank you for requesting i hope you like it even though its not exactly what you asked xx

Everyone walks out of the water slowly and exhausted, the night was crazy. The boat was stranded a few feet away from the shore because of the intense storm that had hit. You were all dizzy and disoriented but also insanely worried. Your friends Sarah and JJ had both disappeared into the water earlier that night, lost in the waves, with no way to find them.

Rafe was the first to hit solid ground. He stumbled forward, collapsing onto his back in the sand, spitting out seawater. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, the salty air biting at his raw throat.

“I looked everywhere,” John B said, running up the hill, his voice shaky and hoarse. He coughed, forcing himself upright with one hand pressed to his chest.

“I couldn't find them,” He said in defeat, but nobody answered. You and the rest of your friends only shook your head and sighed. The silence was heavy.

You pushed your hair out of your face, looking over the crackling fire.

“Maybe they just washed up further down the beach. We have to keep looking,” John B said, still hoping his pregnant wife and his best friend weren't gone forever.

“Well look at first light” Kie affirmed earning nods from the rest of the pogues.

Your gaze drifted from the fire for a second and you noticed Rafe, sitting on the other side of the fire, apart from the group. His eyes connected with yours and a chill went down your spine. It's like you and he understood each other without speaking a word. You knew you needed to talk to him as soon as possible. You needed to.

The sun rose on the horizon and the beach was eerily quiet now, save for the crashing waves and the occasional call of a seabird. The others were spread out, combing the shoreline for any sign of Sarah or JJ. But Rafe was apart from them, sitting on a jagged rock a little further down the beach, his shoulders hunched and his face set in a grim expression.

Rafe had stayed up all night, he would never say it but he was worried about his sister. The mere thought of his sister being gone, drowned in the ocean, with no way to find her body, sickened him. He looked so out of place—angry, lost, and alone and while the Pogues had ignored him, you couldn’t. You knew Rafe too well to leave him like this.

Taking a deep breath, you veered off course and approached him.

“Hey,” you called softly.

Rafe didn’t look up. He was staring at the waves, his jaw tight, his hands resting on his knees.

“Rafe,” you tried again, more gently this time.

He finally turned his head, his eyes narrowing slightly when he saw you. “What do you want, Y/N?” His tone was sharp, but there was no real bite to it.

You sighed, and sat crisscrossed in the sand next to him “I just wanted to check on you. You’ve been sitting here for a while.”

“Why? Thought you Pogues hated me.” He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head

“That’s not true,” you said quickly, and after hesitating you added, “I don’t. I never did”

That seemed to catch his attention. He looked at you fully now, his blue eyes searching yours. “Yeah? Since when?”

You tilted your head, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite the tension. “Since always, Rafe. You know that.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” he muttered. “Feels like I’m the villain in everyone’s story. Including yours.” Rafe’s gaze dropped to the ground, his fingers digging into his jeans.

“That’s not fair,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “We’ve been through a lot, you and me. And yeah, you’ve made some… questionable choices. But that doesn’t erase everything from before.”

He scoffed, running a hand through his buzzed hair. “Before. You mean before I screwed everything up, right? Before I became the guy everyone loved to hate.”

You frowned, your heart aching at the bitterness in his voice. “Rafe, you’re not that guy to me. I still see the person I used to know. The one who’d sneak out of Tannyhill to meet me, a pogue, at the docks. The one who didn’t care I had to work 36 hours a week to be able to live. The one who used to make me laugh when I had the worst days ever.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “But that guy’s long gone, Y/N.”

You shook your head, leaning in slightly. “I don’t believe that. Not completely. I think he’s still in there somewhere.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stared at the ocean, the tension in his jaw slowly easing. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, more vulnerable.

“Why are you even talking to me? After everything… Why bother?”

You reached out hesitantly, your fingers brushing against his. “Because I care about you, Rafe. I always have, always will”

He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t look at you either. Instead, he stared at your hands for a long moment.

“How? How can you still care? I ruined everything after… after I killed Peterkin. I ruined us” His tone was vulnerable.

The memory came unbidden, sharp and vivid like a wound reopened.

It had been late—one of those sticky, humid Outer Banks nights when the air clung to your skin, thick with salt and heat. You stood on the dock by the marsh, your arms wrapped around yourself, waiting. The soft lapping of water against the pylons had been the only sound as you stared at the dark water.

Rafe had promised he’d meet you there. The day was crazy. John B had come running to the chateau his skin covered in blood that wasn't his. He had claimed Rafe, your Rafe, had murdered the sheriff. But you couldn't believe it you had to ask your boyfriend yourself.

When he finally showed up, the boy you’d known was a shadow of himself. His shirt was wrinkled and half-untucked, his hair wild like he’d run his hands through it a thousand times. And his eyes—those piercing blue eyes you used to get lost in—were bloodshot and unfocused.

“Rafe,” you said softly, walking up to him, your hands reaching for him like magnets, the edge of worry sharpening your tone. “What’s going on?”

He stumbled slightly as he stepped onto the dock, catching himself against a post. “Nothing,” he said, brushing your concern away with a shaky laugh. “Why do you always gotta ask that, huh? I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” you countered, stepping closer. You could smell the alcohol on him, sharp and sour, mingling with something else you couldn't quite place. Your heart twisted painfully. “Rafe, is it true? Is it true what John B said?” Tears flooded your vision.

“John B?” He let out a bitter laugh, louder than it needed to be. His unsteady voice carried over the quiet water.

“Yes, did you kill the sheriff?” Your brows furrowed at his behaviour.

“No! I was saving my dad!” he slurred, stepping closer to you, “you’re always gonna believe your little friends over me uh?!”

“That’s not true!” You shot back, Your voice rising in frustration. “I’m here because I don't believe them. I'm here because I want to know your side of the story.”

He scoffed, turning his back to you and running a hand through his hair. “Fine, I did kill her!” he shouted and his voice echoed over the water surrounding you.

“Why Rafe? What happened?” your chest tightened and your hands still reached for him but he stepped back and pushed your hands away.

“She was gonna kill my dad!” he said, his voice raw now, almost broken as he hyperventilated.

You stepped closer, Your eyes searching for his. “Rafe, breathe please, baby.” Once more you stepped toward him but this time he pushed you away entirely. Your back hits the railing of the dock hard, the wood digging into your skin.

“Don't fucking touch me!” he screamed and held his head like he was in pain.

Tears burned in your eyes. “Rafe,” you said, your voice trembling. “don't push me away, please. We can figure it out together okay? It doesn't matter to me what you did, I love you”

He took a step back, his gaze dropping to the ground. “Don't come near me again alright?”

“Don’t do this,” you begged, your voice cracking.

But Rafe had already turned away, walking back down the dock toward his truck. You stood there, frozen, watching as he disappeared into the night.

What you didn't know was, after this moment Rafe felt as if his lungs were being ripped from his body, he couldn't breathe. The feeling of losing you was too much for him even though it was his fault. But you didn't deserve the chaos of his life so he left you broken and empty.

That was the last time you’d seen him before everything fell apart—before all the adventures, the chaos, and the betrayals that split your worlds in two.

Back in the present, you blinked, the memory dissolving like mist. You glanced over at Rafe, his face as unreadable as ever. For a moment, the words were stuck in your throat.

“I've always loved you, Rafe. Maybe it's because I'm crazy. Maybe I'm even crazier for thinking you're a good person for killing for the people you love no matter what” At your words Rafe eyes widen and his hand tightens around yours almost like he searched for signs to understand if he was dreaming or not.

“I'd kill for you in a heartbeat,” he whispered.

“And I'd kill for you” Yours and Rafe's eyes pierced each other's souls.

“Guys, they are back!” You heard Pope scream as JJ and Sarah appeared behind the mountain of sand.

Rafe broke eye contact to look over at his sister and when he saw she was in fact well and alive you could see the tension being lifted from his shoulder.

Knowing you still loved him just as much as he still loved you and knowing his sister was safe was all that mattered.

#rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron obx #rafe imagine #outer banks rafe

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