#the way his head tilts forward slightly. the way his jaw sets

[etheraltides]

Under Summer Skies

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x best friend!Reader

Summary: it was just a casual get together in your best friend’s yacht until it wasn’t anymore.

Warning(s): SMUT – dry humping, oral sex, pinv (wear condom, y’all), a bit of dirt talk. +18 ONLY mdni!

A/N: Grammarly keeps telling me to don’t use dots in the dialogues so who am I to argue?

The sun was setting, casting golden light over the deck of the yacht, and the gentle sway of the boat gave the illusion of an isolated world – just the two of you, surrounded by nothing but endless blue. No worries, no expectations to live to.

Rafe sat on the cushioned bench, his head tilted back, an arm draped lazily over the backrest. He wore nothing but his swim trunks, his skin kissed by the sun from a long afternoon spent on the water. His sharp blue eyes were fixed on you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips while you did your best to don’t get distracted by him.

“Are you seriously going to do this?” he asked, his tone playful but teasing as he watched you rummaging through your purse.

You grinned, holding up the pair of tweezers you’d plucked from your bag. “Yes. Your eyebrows are a disaster, Rafe. Someone has to fix them, and I’m your best friend, so I’m taking one for the team.”

He rolled his eyes, but the smirk didn’t leave his face. “I don’t need my eyebrows fixed. They’re fine.”

“They’re uneven” you countered, stepping closer and nudging his shoulder. “Come on, don’t be a baby.”

Rafe groaned dramatically but leaned back, letting his head rest against the back of the bench. “Fine, but don’t mess me up. I don’t want to look like a girl.”

You snorted, settling yourself beside him. “Relax, I’m not going to butcher you. Just sit still.”

You reached for his face, your fingers brushing lightly against his jaw as you angled his head toward you. Rafe’s skin was warm under your touch, his subtle stubble tickling against your fingertips, and you tried to ignore the way your pulse fluttered when his eyes flicked up to meet yours.

“Okay…” you said softly, your voice steadier than you felt. “Stay still.”

You began plucking, your focus narrowing in on the tiny hairs that needed to go. Rafe winced slightly, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach up and bat you away.

“Stop squirming!” you scolded, biting back a smile.

“It hurts.” he complained, his tone petulant as he couldn’t back the smile. It was adorable the way you bit your lips in concentration, the crease between your brows making it just the more adorable.

“Oh, come on. You act like you’re so tough, and you can’t handle a little tweezing?”

Rafe’s lips twitched, his smirk returning. “I’m plenty tough. I just don’t see why this is necessary.”

“It’s called grooming, Rafe. You should try it sometime.”

He laughed softly, the sound low and rich, and you felt it settle in your chest.

But then he shifted, his hands gripping your hips lightly as he said, “Here. You can’t reach like that. Come here.”

Before you could protest, Rafe tugged you forward, pulling you into his lap in a swift motion.

Your breath caught as you landed on him, straddling his thighs. His hands stayed on your hips, his grip firm but not forceful, and the heat of his skin burned through the thin fabric of your bikini. You feared that he could heart you fast beating heart now.

“Better?” he asked, his voice lower now, his blue eyes shining in the golden light.

You tried to keep your composure, to ignore the sudden spark of tension crackling between you, but it was impossible. Rafe’s gaze was locked on yours, his smirk replaced by something softer, something heavier.

“Y-Yeah, sure.” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your hands trembled slightly as you raised the tweezers again, but the task suddenly felt monumental with the way Rafe was looking at you. His eyes dipped to your lips, just for a moment, before flicking back up to meet yours.

“Are you nervous?” he asked, his tone teasing but edged with something else.

“What? Me nervous of you?” you said quickly, though your voice betrayed you. “Absolutely not.”

Rafe’s smirk returned, but this time it was slower, more deliberate. “Liar.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to regain some semblance of control. “Stay still, Cameron, or I’m going to accidentally pluck half your eyebrow off.”

“Go ahead,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower. “I trust you.”

The weight of his words settled between you, heavier than they should have been, and you found yourself unable to look away from him. His hands flexed slightly on your hips, his thumbs brushing against your skin in a way that made your stomach flip.

“Rafe.” you said softly, your voice faltering.

“What?” he asked, his tone light but his expression serious.

“This is…” You trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence.

“Different?” he offered, tilting his head slightly, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the soft skin of your hips.

You nodded, your fingers still resting against his jaw, the tweezers forgotten in your hand.

Rafe’s gaze flicked down to your lips again, lingering this time. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you a fraction closer, and you felt your breath hitch as the space between you disappeared.

“Tell me to stop.” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t.

Instead, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that was tentative at first, testing the waters. But Rafe didn’t hesitate. His hands slid up your sides, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your head spin.

The tweezers slipped from your hand, forgotten as your fingers tangled in his hair. His hands roamed your body, sliding beneath your bikini top to rest on the bare skin, his touch warm and firm.

“Rafe,” you murmured against his lips, your voice trembling.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes dark and heavy-lidded. “You want me to stop?”

You shook your head, your fingers tightening in his hair as you pulled him back in. His lips crashed against yours, his kisses growing more desperate, more insistent.

The air between you was electric, charged with a tension that had been simmering for far too long. Every touch, every kiss felt like a spark igniting something deeper, something neither of you could ignore anymore.

Rafe’s hands gripped your hips, guiding you closer, and you gasped as the movement sent a jolt of heat through your body.

“Tell me this isn’t just me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jawline, his voice rough and edged with vulnerability.

“It’s not just you,” you whispered, your hands sliding down to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palms.

“Good,” he said, his voice soft but sure, before capturing your lips in another searing kiss.

The sun dipped lower, casting the yacht in golden shadows, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared. It was just you and Rafe, tangled together in a moment you’d never forget.

Rafe’s kisses grew more desperate, his hands gripping your hips firmly, pulling you flush against him. The tension between you was thick, electric, and you could feel his breath hitch as he shifted beneath you.

Your fingers slid through his hair, tugging gently as his lips moved from your mouth to your jawline, then lower, grazing the curve of your neck. His stubble left a faint scratch against your skin, but the sensation only added to the heat pooling in your stomach.

“Rafe…” you whispered, your voice breathless, your nails digging into his shoulders for support.

“Mm,” he hummed against your neck, the sound low and rough. His hands roamed your waist, sliding up beneath your bikini top, his touch warm and deliberate. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

He shifted again, and you felt it – the unmistakable press of his arousal beneath you, hard and insistent. Your breath hitched as he rolled his hips, the motion deliberate, sending a spark of heat through your core.

“Rafe—” you started, but the rest of the sentence was lost as he tilted his head back, his hands guiding your hips to match his slow, rhythmic movements.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice strained but soft, his blue eyes searching yours.

You nodded, your lips parting as another wave of heat rippled through you. “Yeah,” you whispered, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance as he rocked his hips again, harder this time.

The friction was intoxicating, every roll of his body against yours sending sparks of pleasure through you. His hands slid lower, gripping your ass as he guided you, his breathing heavy and uneven.

“God,” he muttered, his voice breaking slightly as he buried his face in your neck. “You feel so good.”

You couldn’t respond – could barely think – as his movements grew more insistent, his body pressed so tightly against yours that it felt like there was nothing separating you. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending alive and alight with sensation.

“Rafe!” you gasped, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as he thrust upward again, harder, drawing a soft moan from your lips.

His lips found yours again, his kiss deep and heated, and you could feel the tension in his body building with every movement. His hands gripped your hips tightly, almost desperately, as if he couldn’t get close enough.

“Say my name,” he whispered, his voice rough and filled with something raw and needy.

“Rafe,” you breathed, the sound trembling as it left your lips.

He groaned at the sound, his movements faltering slightly before he caught himself, his pace quickening. The sensation, the intimacy, the heat – it was almost too much, and yet it wasn’t anywhere near enough.

“God, you’re perfect.” he murmured, his voice cracking as he kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck. “I’ve wanted this… wanted you… for so long.”

The confession sent a shiver down your spine, and you clung to him, your body moving instinctively with his. The world outside the yacht didn’t exist anymore – it was just you and Rafe, tangled together in a haze of heat and longing. Something you have pushed aside for so long in fear of ruining your friendship that it just blew in your faces now.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

With every thrust of his hips, you could feel the fabric of your bikini bottom growing damp, the delicious friction building between your legs. Your breaths grew shorter, your heart racing in time with the rhythm he set, and your body responded to his urgency with a fiery need of its own.

“Rafe, wait,” you whispered, pulling back slightly, your eyes searching his. “We shouldn’t do this—it’ll ruin everything.”

He stilled beneath you, his eyes searching yours, his expression a mix of surprise and hunger. You could see the desire warring with something deeper, something that made your stomach flip. For a moment, you thought he might pull away, might agree with your rational words. But instead, he leaned in closer, his voice a soft murmur against your skin.

“It won’t ruin us,” he said, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on the bare skin of your thighs. “We’re already more than just friends, aren’t we?”

Before you could respond, he hooked his thumbs into the band of your panties and pushed it aside, sliding the fabric just enough to expose the slick heat of your folds. His eyes darkened, and he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “Let me show you how good it can be, baby.”

With a gentle nudge, he coaxed you to move, his own hips grinding up to meet yours as you slid down his body, the fabric of his shorts abrading your sensitive skin. His thumbs stroked the damp fabric, tracing the edges of your pussy, and you felt a tremor run through you, your protests dying in your throat as a strangled moan escaped instead.

The ache grew, pulsing with every beat of your heart, demanding more as he teased you, the anticipation driving you wild. You could feel the fabric of your panties sticking to your wetness, and the friction was exquisite, a sweet torment that had you writhing against him.

“Please, Rafe,” you begged, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them. The shyness had melted away under the weight of your desire, leaving only a raw, unbridled need. “I need��I need you to—”

He smirked up at you, a knowing glint in his eyes, and leaned back, his hand disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts. You watched, transfixed, as he pulled out his cock, thick and hard, the tip glistening with pre-cum. His hand wrapped around it, stroking slow and deliberate, the motion mesmerizing. The sight of him touching himself, the way his muscles tensed and his breathing grew ragged, was more than you could bear.

Without a moment’s hesitation, you leaned down, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting him. You took the head of his cock between your lips, feeling the heat and velvet smoothness, and he groaned, his hips jerking upward. You took him deeper, letting your tongue dance along the underside as your hand found his length, stroking in time with your mouth. He tasted like salt and man, a heady flavor that made your senses swirl.

Rafe’s eyes rolled back in his head, his hands gripping the edge of the cushion as you worked him with a passion that surprised even yourself. You’d never felt this wanton before, never been so eager to please, but something about the situation had unlocked something primal within you. You took him deeper still, feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, the muscles there convulsing around him as you struggled not to gag.

He watched you, his eyes hooded and dark with lust, his breaths coming in ragged pants. “Fuck, you’re so good at this,” he murmured, his voice tight with restraint. You felt a thrill of power at his words, a sense of control that only made you more eager to serve him.

With a graceful move, you shifted onto all fours beside him on the plush cushion, his cock still in your hand. The cooler air of the yacht’s cabin washed over your heated skin, sending a shiver through you. The position was more comfortable now, and you took full advantage, leaning down to suck him in deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you drew on him. His hand found the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you, his hips bucking in time with your movements.

But then he stilled, his eyes dropping to your thighs, where your arousal had started to dribble down. His gaze darkened, and he tugged gently on your hair, urging you to look up.

“What’s the matter?” you asked, breathless, your hand still moving up and down his shaft.

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I want to taste you,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “Let me lick your sweet pussy, baby.”

The words sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, and you nodded, your breathing shallow. He helped you stand, his eyes never leaving your body, and you could feel his gaze like a physical touch. You stepped out of your bikini bottoms, the fabric falling away to reveal your bare skin, glistening with your desire. You stepped closer to him, standing at the edge of the cushion, and he reached for your thighs, urging you to straddle his face as he laid down.

You hesitated for a moment, but the need was too strong. You positioned yourself over his mouth, his warm breath fanning over your sex. He looked up at you, his eyes smoldering, and you felt your knees tremble slightly. And then his tongue was there, licking a long, slow line up the center of your pussy, from bottom to top. You moaned, the sound echoing through the cabin, and he groaned in response, his hands sliding up to grip your ass, pulling you closer.

It was messy and desperate, his tongue delving into your folds, lapping at your clit with a hunger that mirrored your own. His beard scratched against your sensitive skin, the sensation adding to the delicious assault on your senses. You could feel the wetness of his mouth, his saliva mingling with your arousal, and the sight of his blonde hair sticking to your thighs was almost too much. He feasted on you, his mouth working against you with a ferocity that had your eyes rolling back in your head.

You grabbed the railing above for balance, your body rocking against his face. You felt the orgasm building, a pressure that grew and grew with every stroke of his tongue, every nip of his teeth. It was as if he could sense it, his movements becoming more urgent, his grip on your hips tightening as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“Rafe, I’m going to come,” you moaned, warning him through gritted teeth. But instead of slowing down, he only redoubled his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly against your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful, a knot of sensation coiling tighter and tighter within you.

With a final, desperate moan, you climaxed, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you. Rafe’s tongue didn’t stop, though, continuing to work you through your orgasm, drawing it out until you were trembling and weak. You collapsed against the railing, your legs shaking, your breath coming in pants.

“Holy shit,” you murmured, your voice hoarse. “That was—”

But your words were cut off as Rafe’s mouth moved away from your pussy, his eyes shining with lust as he sat up, his cock standing tall and demanding. He reached for you, pulling you back down onto his lap so that you were straddling him once again. This time, however, he positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance.

“Take it slow, baby,” he murmured, his hands guiding yours to his chest, his heart hammering beneath your palms. “Let me in.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath, and then, with a gentle rock of your hips, you slid down onto him. He filled you, stretching you in a way that made you gasp, his cock thick and hot and perfect. The sensation was so intense that for a moment, you couldn’t move, could only sit there, feeling him buried deep inside you.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Rafe groaned, his hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples to hard points.

You bit your lip, your eyes fluttering shut as he began to rock his hips beneath you, his cock moving in and out in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had your insides clenching around him. Each stroke sent a new ripple of pleasure through your body, and you found yourself moving with him, your hips rising and falling to meet his.

The sound of your skin slapping against his filled the open deck, a testament to the passion that had overtaken you both. The sea breeze danced across your skin, adding a cool contrast to the heat of your bodies.

“Look at me, baby,” Rafe rasped, his voice thick with desire. You opened your eyes to find his gaze locked onto yours, his pupils blown wide with lust. You took his words as a command, your hips moving in tandem with his, your breasts bouncing with every thrust.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his hands sliding up your body to cradle your face. “Take it all. You’re so fucking wet for me. You’re perfect, just like I knew you’d be.”

With a your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, you begin to grind in a slow, sensual circle, watching Rafe’s eyes roll back as he loses himself in the tight, slick embrace of your pussy. The feel of him inside you was intoxicating, filling you to the brim and sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. Each rotation brought a fresh rush of sensation, his cock hitting all the right spots, and you felt yourself growing wetter and wetter with every pass.

His hands slid from your face to your hips, his grip firm as he helped guide your movements, his own hips rising to meet you. The sound of his breath grew ragged, and you knew he was just as lost in the moment as you were. The pressure built again, a delicious ache that had your muscles clenching around him, urging him deeper, begging for release.

“I’m close,” you gasped, your voice a desperate whine.

“Shit. Me too, baby,” Rafe groaned, his eyes never leaving yours as he pumped his hips up to meet yours. The friction was unbearable, the tension coiling in your stomach, tightening until you thought you might shatter.

With a final, powerful thrust, you both reached the peak, your orgasms crashing over you in a tumultuous wave of pleasure. You cried out, your nails digging into his chest as your body tightened around him, the muscles of your pussy pulsing in a delicious rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart. Rafe’s eyes squeezed shut, his teeth gritted as he emptied himself inside you, his cock jerking with every drop of his release.

For a moment, you stayed there, suspended in time, your bodies locked together in a silent symphony of ecstasy. And then, as the world slowly began to come back into focus, you slumped against him, your head resting on his shoulder, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. His arms tightened around you, holding you close, as if afraid to let go.

“We don’t have to talk about this today,” Rafe murmured against your hair, his voice a soothing balm to the sudden tension that had coiled around your heart.

You nodded, your eyes still squeezed shut, trying to hold onto the last remnants of your climax. “Okay,” you managed to whisper, your voice shaky.

As your breathing began to even out, a laugh bubbled up from your chest, and you couldn’t hold it in. “What’s so funny?” Rafe asked, his voice still strained from his own release.

You leaned back slightly, looking into his eyes with a small smile playing on your lips. “I still ain’t done trimming your eyebrows though,” you teased, lightly brushing his brow.

[mindless-existence1]

A Fluff bakugo x fem!Reader fic where reader spills the beans about their relationship during a girls night.

Authors note: It's based on that one audio from that one show I can't remember the name of.

"No offense dude but what do you know about relationships?"

"Actually smart guy-"

"What?"

"I can't say."

"What?"

"____ and I are dating!"

"What?!"

"We have been for 3 months!"

"What!"

"We have matching brackets!"

Mina's small dormitory was filled with laughter and chatter as the girls gathered for their long-awaited girls' night. Pillows and blankets were strewn everywhere, snacks covered the teens desk and bed, and the scent of popcorn lingered in the air.

Mina was busy applying glittery nail polish to Jirou’s nails, while you sat cross-legged on the floor, trying to focus on the card game you and Uraraka were playing.

Mina, never one to shy away from a juicy topic, suddenly broke the relative calm. “Okay, ladies, let’s spill some tea. Who here has a crush?”

Jirou groaned. “Why do you always ask stuff like this?” “Because it’s fun!” Mina said, winking. “C’mon, spill!”

“I’m too busy focusing on my hero training to think about that,” Tsuyu said matter-of-factly, sipping her juice.

“Same,” Uraraka said, but the way she avoided eye contact suggested otherwise. Hagakure elbows her side playfully making the girls face shine red.Mina glances at the girl infront of her who was drying her nails with a playful look.

"I see the way you look at Kaminari and it's no secret the way he feels." The purple haired girl's face flushes a deep shade of red at Mina's implications.

"I don't know what your talking about." Jirou defends herself weakly making the other girls in the room playfully "oooohhhh". Jirou shove Mina's face away when the pink girl begins to make a kiss face.

"I think you guy's would be cute, and Kaminari's nice. When he's not hanging with Mineta." You visibly shake at the boys name and simultaneously make the other girl cringe. Hagakure going as far as pretending to throw up.

"Oh you can't talk y/n, what do you know about relationships?" Jirou lightheartedly snaps but her red ears give away how flustered she really is. You set your cards down and raised an eyebrow. “Well, smart guy, I actually—”

“What?” Mina’s eyes lock on you, they sparkle with anticipation. “I can’t say,” you mumbled quicklycatching yourself, feeling your face heat up.

“What!?” Uraraka gasped, nearly knocking over her drink. Jirou leaned forward, intrigued now.

“Wait, wait, wait. Are you saying there’s something to say?”You bit your lip, debating whether or not to come clean. Finally, you sighed, knowing there was no way out.

“Fine. Katsuki and I are dating.” The room went silent.All at once, the girls erupted. “You and Bakugo are what?!” Mina practically screamed, dropping the nail polish.

“We have been for three months,” you said quickly, bracing yourself for the inevitable chaos.“Three months?!” Mina’s voice rose an octave. “And you didn’t tell us?!”

Momo's jaw dropped. “Wait, Bakugo? Like our Bakugo? Explosive, angry Bakugo?”"He’s not as scary as everyone thinks.” you say matter-a-factly, "he's like if you gave a big teddy bear explosives." The girls laugh.

"Yeah but he still has explosives. And he's so angry." Hagakure says making the other girls nod. "Not all the time, it's more like a front he puts up. Don't get me wrong he's still... grumpy just nicer. Plus he cares."

Mina clutched her chest dramatically. “I can’t believe it. Y/N, you tamed the beast!” "It wasn't very hard." You joke making the other girls chuckle, "does anyone know?" Uraraka asks expectantly.

"No, we were going to keep it a secret a while, per his request, but cats out of the bag now." Shrugging your shoulders you reach for a snack next to Momo. "I'm still supried." The girl says. Tsuyu tilts her head slightly, "looking back i think I can see it."

This makes the other girls think back to seeing you and him interact. Mina gasps, "How did we not see it sooner!" You laugh, covering your mouth still full with food. "Well suprise!"

[striigon]

sorry i just think that matija locking on target is something so sexy and personal

[kamitv]

▷ Second Time?

Synopsis . Part One. When you get paired with the campus asshole, Sukuna, for a project, the last thing you expect to learn about him is that he’s a damn virgin. Nor did you expect to be the one to change that. / Pairing . virgin!Sukuna x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, nipple play (m!receiving), pussy slapping, non-curse college au, dirty talk, pet names, degrading, continued porn w plot, teasing, taunting, filth, creampie, Sukuna’s kinda soft here and there, etc. / wc . 4.4k

A/N: to those that requested a part two for virgin!sukuna <3 [MDNI]

“No? Oh c’monnn, they’re just piercings,” You whine as your legs remain sprawled out over Sukuna’s muscular thighs.

Your panty-clad cunt was throbbing over his saliva-slicked semi-hard cock, due to your recent actions, and yet here Sukuna was still trying his very best to figure out a way out of this situation. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go further with you— he was just nervous.

Not that he’d ever say that out loud though. Admit you’ve made him nervous? Oh please, in what universe?

Sure, you made him cum prematurely but that’s not his fault. No one told you to have such a slutty ass mouth. 

Back to the present though, as you gaze down at him with those stupidly pretty eyes of yours, batting your lashes pleadingly whilst you await for the man to change his answer. It was simply unfair of him to have nipple piercings and not show you. It’s the least he could do after the head you just gave him, right?

“No, it’s not the ‘least I can do’,” Sukuna huffs. It’s then that you realize you’d spoken your thoughts aloud but, in a way, you’re actually glad you did so, “You’re not seeing shit, now get off of me.”

The pout that presents itself on your face is practically immediate, “C’mon ‘Kuna, I won’t touch them. I jus’ wanna see,” You coo softly, tilting your head to the side as if to convince him, “Please?”

One simple word and his tip was wet with precum yet again. Sukuna swears he hates you. He hates the way you're looking at him right now, the way you're seated so perfectly on top of him, and the way he forgets how the hell he even got into this position with you in the first place.

Didn't he come over here to finish a project? Not have sex with you.

And yet, he can't find it in himself to say no to you again. That damn word you said, it did something to him. Sukuna's not sure what or why but his mouth is moving on its own, almost instinctively, "You wanna see them?" He sighs.

You're nodding, slipping your hands down to the hem of his shirt, "Yeah. Promise I won't touch."

"Tch. I..." Sukuna grits his teeth and you can see a pretty vein decorating his skin along his sharp jawline as he glances away for a moment, "I want you to beg me again."

Although you're a bit taken back by his request, you're quick to lean forward a bit and bite your lower lip, "Please?"

He ignores the word leaving you lips, his cock springing to life once more despite his attempt at leaving you unanswered. Given his body's reaction to you, all you can do is smirk before you're leaning down slightly and pressing your lips to his jaw.

"Pretty please, Sukuna?" You purr, warm breath hitting his now overly tense skin, "I promise I'll be good. Won't lay a finger on you unless you want me to."

His head slumps back against the couch and he inhales sharply at your soft touch sliding under his shirt, steadily working it up as the black fabric bundles up against your hands.

Then you're at his neck, sucking on his skin, rolling your tongue over him, shifting your hips forward against his cock and he simply groans. "F-Fucking, fine." Sukuna huffs, annoyed out of his ever-loving mind at whatever control it is you seem to have over him.

He hates you. He swears he hates you. Everything about the way your hands quickly tug his shirt up over his head, tossing the fabric elsewhere as you set your greedy eyes on his chest, the way your eyes widen at how flushed his skin is, and the sight of your tongue swiping over your lips as soon as you set your sight on his nipples.

Such pretty contrasting metal decorated his very pretty swollen nipples. So flushed with shades of pink and red, itching to be touched— just one flick and you knew he'd let out the most heavenly sound. The problem was convincing him to let you touch his nipples.

They were so damn tempting though, you swore you were drooling at the sight. God, you just wanted to reach out and-

"No," Sukuna rasps out. Your eyes snap up to his face and your pussy throbs at his expression.

He's beyond embarrassed. His eyes almost look glossed over with how desperate he was for you to stop looking at him. And yet he was so pouty and grumpy too, plump lips pulled into the cutest little frown at how hungry you were looking at him, his breathing unsteady all over again, and his cock felt twitching wildly beneath you.

You smirk, "'No'... what?"

"No, you cannot touch them," He's slow to clarify that, having seen right through those greedy eyes of yours, "You wanted to see and you've seen so-"

"I can make you feel good though," You purr, leaning in close to him all over again. "Jus' let me-"

"No," Sukuna mutters sternly. Then his hands are meeting your hips and his grip alone makes you flinch.

His touch is filled with intent as he slides his hands back to your ass and gives you a nice and firm squeeze, tugging you against him and making you gasp at the way his dick twitches right against your cunt. Your hands go to his shoulders to stop yourself from being pulled flush against him and he gazes dead up into your eyes.

How does one look so needy and yet commanding at the same time? It was like Sukuna told you thousands of words through his gaze alone. Maybe it was his very apparent physical need for you, or maybe it was just how attractive he is when aroused but fuck his look had your body hot all over.

Sukuna lets out a small breath of air before he drops his raspy tone even lower to a whisper, "Fuck me," He utters, feeling the reaction your cunt has to his words and cracking a cocky little smirk, "Fuck me, and you can touch me as much as you wish to."

You gulp thickly. Did you forget how to speak for a moment because all you do is open your mouth and it was like no words were even coming to your brain. His gaze was to intense and starved, large hands playing with the fat of your ass while he lifts his hips up slightly.

Then you gasp again, his thick tip was pressing right against your needy hole through the few layers of clothing that remained and you felt drunk off of your own arousal. Nodding and whispering in return, "O-Okay," Your hands slide around his neck and you lean in until your lips are meeting his again.

And if you were drunk off of your arousal then he was fucking high off of his own— feeling faded out of his mind with the way he leisurely moves to undress your lower half as he kisses you like he's done so a thousand times before, sliding his tongue into your mouth, swallowing up your moans, sucking on your lower lip, and undressing you all in one go.

Hell, for a second you forget the man is a damn virgin.

And as if to combat with that— you feel like a damn virgin once you start sinking your slippery walls around Sukuna’s thick cock. Gasping against his lips and feeling his fingertips curl into the skin of your waist, his jaw-dropping and lips quivering against yours as he lets out the most guttural groan he’s ever uttered, and both of your eyes fluttering at the connection of his body to yours. 

Sukuna’s deeply shaded red eyes are hazy on yours as you sink down on him. His mind is turning to mush and he swears he’s about to pass the fuck out. It could’ve been the way your face looked as your cunt greedily sucked in his cock, or how tight your walls clamped down on him but, either way, Sukuna felt hot all over. Dizzy with lust and faded off of everything that’s you.

Every inch of you, the feel of your squeezing wet pussy enclosing around his aching cock, that breathy squeak of his name leaving your lips, and then your fingers grazing his chest-

Sukuna’s brows twist up and his entire body flinches instinctively. Hips bucking up slightly, large hands urging you further down, and shaky sound escaping his wet blushing lips— he’d officially lost it. 

He looked so damn pretty doing so as well, not that you’d ever tell him that (you’ve embarrassed him enough for the time being). Those damn eyes of his were all glossed over, his bottom lip was shaking as a sexy-pitched gasp escaped his throat, and his hands held onto you for dear life whilst he bottomed out.

His fat cockhead kissing your cervix with little to no movement had you panting heavily while you kept your eyes low on his. “‘Kuna,” You feel his cock twitch desperately inside you and you toy with one of his sensitive nipples in between your index and thumb, “Y-You’re so-“

“Shut up,” He groans, and then he’s kissing you— desperately, hungrily-, starved. He knew another word from you would have your cunt stuffed full of his cum within seconds.

And as much as he wanted that, as much as he knew that’d be the end result of all this, he did not want to make yet another fool of himself. Though, the way your fingertips constantly flick over his pierced nipples makes him fucking whine into your mouth, a heavy grunt following after the sound as if to cover it up.

The hands your waist urge your body up, dragging your slicked walls up along his cock before allowing gravity to slam you back down. God the way you moan his name makes his knees feel weak. You were making him, as a whole, feel so utterly weak.

It wasn’t long before you were picking up a steady pace on top of him, your breaths shared with his and his eyes not once leaving yours. Sukuna was such a silent commander, that gaze of his told you everything, testing-, no, daring you to look away from him. He didn’t even know what it was about eye contact but he craved it so desperately.

Your gaze made his cock so stupidly hard, so much so that he just wanted to flip you over on this stupid couch of yours and-

And then he was. Sukuna doesn’t even register he’s repositioned with you until you let out the prettiest little whimper and your eyes roll back as he, almost experimentally, thrusts his heavy cock deep past your plush pussy lips. 

What brings him back into the moment is that sound of you and the way you’re choking out his name, “S’kuna, f-fuck,” You almost hate that he’s taken control because you’ve lost your teasing of his chest, “Why’d you-, ngh-,” You’re cut off completely when he drags his hips back so torturously slow before rolling his hips down into you.

Shaking his head thoughtlessly, “Shut up,” Sukuna huffs again as he presses his bulky weight down against you, folding you into the meanest mating press and making you let out a filthy mewl at the sheer stretch of his girthy cock. “Please,” He sounds almost breathless, that plea of his hardly even audible, “Jus’ be quiet f’me.”

Your jaw hangs open and you’re simply gaping up at the man with stupid, cockdrunk eyes. Something about feeling and watching him learn how to please you was probably more pleasurable than the sex itself. Which is saying an awfully lot because even though he didn't know what the hell he was doing, whatever he was doing, he was doing it right.

All you can do is wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, moaning his name softly every time his tip nudges into that mushy spot inside you. Sukuna lets out a low hum when he feels your nails claw at his back suddenly.

Then the cocky bastard has the nerve to fucking smile at you. Almost as if he enjoyed the pain of your nails scratching at his back hard enough to leave marks…

Because, of course, then he’s fucking you faster, harder, deeper. So determined to learn what you like, to learn your body inside and out (literally), and to have you mark up his back more than the dark ink that decorates his skin currently.

“Y’feel so fuckin’…” He can hardly even speak as he just grows addicted to pushing his cock in and out and in and out. That sloppy sound of your cunt squelching and wetting up his cock over and over again-, fuck he couldn’t get enough of it. “S-So fuckin’ good,” Sukuna’s voice almost softens as he shifts his lips to your ear, “Oh fuck, wanna…” His words trail off, a deep shade of blush coating his cheeks.

You can’t help but grow that never-ending urge to tease him, moving your lips to his ear, “Wanna what?” There was a slight shake in your voice but that didn’t save him from his cock throbbing at the sound of your voice alone.

“Hahh… wanna-, agh, wanna make you cum,” Sukuna admits begrudgingly. He sounded so ridiculously embarrassed saying that out loud but he was far too pussydrunk to care right now.

Thrusts growing heavier as if he were searching for a specific spot inside you, his eyes softening as he shifts to hover his face over yours once more, and his groans making your stomach churn with butterflies. Hell, you almost do exactly that of what he’s requested based on the sound of desperation in his tone alone.

Sukuna’s usually such a big, mean, sometimes stoic man, and yet here he was, silently requesting your assistance. 

He is only a virgin after all.

“Not anymore,” He gruffs, catching you by surprise as you render the fact that those words left your lips. “C’mon, tell me what to do.”

Again, Sukuna swears on his life he hates you. He hates the way you’ve made him so weak, the way your cunt is so deliciously warm inside, the way you moan his name-

Fuck, he hates you.

“‘Kuna,” You whisper as you slide one of your hands from around his neck to slip to his hand and guide him, “My clit. You gotta-“

Your breath is caught in your throat all over again. You were trying to guide him just like he wanted you to but Sukuna was far too quick of a learner, swatting his thick thumb around in search before his ears twitch at the way your voice gets stuck in your throat.

“Here?” He has the nerve to whisper gently, “Rub here, right? Y’like that?” Sukuna asks as he matches his thrusts with the flick of his thumb, drinking in the way your back arches up off of the couch and your eyes roll back.

You’re nodding, “Yes yes-, r-right there ‘Kuna, fuck…”

His eyes rake over your face all over again and then he’s doing that thing where he speaks without thinking, “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”

Of course, those softly uttered words pull you out of your cockdrunken stupor for only a moment, “H-Huh?” You breathe out as your eyes meet his.

“I hate you,” Sukuna lies straight through his teeth, “Hate how pretty you look beneath me,” He’s babbling at this point, picking up his pace and trying to angle his cock into somewhere specific, “How fuckin’-, god you’re squeezin’ me s’tight, hahh… h-how you sound moaning my name, taking my cock.” With that last sentence comes a particularly harsh thrust.

Your nails scrape at his back again and he moans in pleasure. Gloss covers your eyes as he finally finds that spot that has you seeing stars, “Sukuna,” You moan sweetly, feeling him hit that very spot over and over and over again.

“Again,” He huffs, leaning down even closer and pressing more of his weight onto you, “Moan my name again, woman.”

“Sukuna,” You’re moaning without the need for his instruction. To hell if the man is a virgin, he knows how to use his cock.

What he doesn’t realize is how big he is in comparison to anyone else you’ve been with. Stretching you open with every thrust, fucking you ridiculously full of all his thick inches, knocking his dripping tip right against your sweet spot, making your legs tingle in numbness, and rolling skillful circles around your clit as if he’d practiced doing so before.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Sukuna rasps out, his eyes locked dead onto yours as usual.

He was so focused on you, so eager to make you cum. Obviously, he’d never felt anything like this before so he never wants it to end. And perhaps that’s the only reason why he hasn’t emptied himself into you yet. 

Every time you’re felt leaving another bright red mark on his back, he lets out a low hiss before flashing a smirk down at you, thrusts growing harder. Then there’s the way you just gape up at him, jaw dangling as you’re so clearly lost in pleasure, and pussy swallowing him in whole each time he fucks himself back into you.

And your little gasps of, “Feels s-so good Kuna, don’t stop.” Have him reeling back on purpose, pretending to mistakenly slip his cock out of you for a moment only to slap his fat cockhead against your needy hole and then push all of himself right back in.

With a smug expression on his face, “Don’t tell me what t’do,” He responds.

“I jus’ did,” You argue back all in one breath.

God, he- , “I hate you,” The words are leaving his lips yet again but he can’t stop driving his dick inside you. You’re so fucking warm, so welcoming for him, so honeyed and sweet inside. Hell, for a second he wonders what you’d taste like on his tongue— despite never even going down on someone before.

“Yeah,” You flash a fucked-out little smile up at him and your walls grip onto him tighter, making his brows twist up, “But you love fuckin’ me.” Your little whisper makes him shudder.

He nearly cums at that, releasing a strangled groan before he just nods almost obediently, “Uhuh.” Sukuna mumbles, his hate for you growing with every passing second.

There you are under him, still teasing him despite the expression of pleasure plastered across your face, “Yeah?”

“M-Mhm,” He grumbles in response.

He can’t help but just agree with you. Of course he adores fucking you. If anything, he doesn’t think he’d prefer it be anyone else. After watching your cute ass all composed every week in class, listening to the way you lecture him for not paying attention as if you actually care about him, watching you grow surprised today at the way he can get things done when he puts in an effort-

Shit, of course he wanted to see you like this— splayed out like a pretty little slut for him, gasping his name, looking him in the eye, and allowing him to fuck you. God, his mind is spinning. He can’t think at all.

So lost in his head, you’re left spasming below him because he’s still thumbing at your clit and his cock is as unforgiving as ever, “Sukuna,” His name rolls off of your tongue beautifully and he’s left in awe above you.

Tilting his head, “What?” Sukuna breathes as he’s pulled from his daze and back to the present.

“Make me cum,” You order so suddenly.

As that third word leaves those lips of yours, Sukuna smirks knowingly and he leans up a little just to angle himself better inside you. He glances down at your cunt, biting his lip at the sight of his cock bulging inside you, watching himself push in and out for a second before his smirk turns into a lazy little smile.

“Already did’,” He scoffs, flicking his eyes back up to you.

Your brows twist up, “Wha-“

“Are you that dumb when cock is inside ya’?” He utters meanly and earns an immediate squeeze of your gummy walls around his veiny shaft, “You came a few minutes ago, brat.” 

“I…” Your expression becomes dumbfounded and in an instant, you’re the one left embarrassed.

Which he finds all too cute, “Felt good tho’.” He comments smugly, looking back down to where you’re connected and tilting his head at the sight.

Fuck, he was so sexy above you. Even on his chest, bright red scratches decorated his skin. When did you do that? His nipples were still as flushed as his face and you wanted so badly to reach out and flick your fingers against them again.

Pouting, “Sukuna-“

“Do it again f’me,” The man cuts off.

You can’t even get a response out before he’s leaning down again, “I-“

This time you’re cut off by him pressing your legs together and against your chest, loving the pretty sight of you folded and bent to his will like this. All he can do is stare down and watch himself fuck you, seeing your swollen lips take in his fat length so fucking beautifully. It’s like you were made for him or something.

Your cunt only molds around his cock, sucking him in whenever he pulls out like you never wanted him to leave you. He could feel every throb of your pussy when he spoke to you, every squeeze of your warmth when he reached deeper than before, and fuck was he enamored by every second of it.

“Please,” He says breathlessly all of a sudden, itching to watch you cum on his cock this time around.

His begging is followed by him moving his hand back down to your pussy, his thumb sliding back in search of your clit. Rubbing those maddening little circles once he finds it, Sukuna focuses most of his attention on your body. Every little jump you make when he swats his thumb to the left, every pitch in your moan when he thrusts inside you at a certain pace— Sukuna soon smiles once he’s got you all figured out.

“Oh fuck,” You whimper, tossing your head back against the couch as your eyes loll to the back of your hand.

With that knowing smile on his face, the couch creaks with his rough thrusts inside you, “Stop makin’ me beg you for shit,” Sukuna grunts before gifting your throbbing pussy with a little smack, “Jus’ give it t’me.”

“Sukuna-, ah,” You’re choking at the sensation and your cunt narrows even more around him.

His toned pelvis smacks against you over and over, heavy balls hitting your ass with each shove of his fat cock inside your warmth, “Fuck,” The man heaves as he feels himself steadily growing addicted.

Why the hell didn’t he have sex with someone sooner?

“M’gonna cum,” You soon whine out to the man.

To which he clashes into you faster, feining for it, “Please, f-fuckin’ need it,” Sukuna groans before pressing down against you again.

His thrusts grow uneven and jagged, eyes rolling back when he feels you finally cumming around his cock for a second time. You were squeezing him so tight. All he could do was moan at how perfect you were.

“Shiit,” He huffs, his cock twitching wildly inside you before his mind goes completely blank, “I love you-“

Your brows immediately twist up, “Wha-“

And then he’s painting your walls white. Grunting, groaning, moaning-, hell, you name it and the sound was leaving his lips as he fucks his orgasm into you.

Then he’s babbling mindless little praises of, “Love this fuckin’ pussy,” Lost in filling you with his cum and listening to you whimper from overstimulation.

Gifting you with praise after praise about how beautiful you are under him like this, how much he adores his name rolling off your tongue. He can’t even fathom how much cum is spilling into you, velvety thick ropes painting your walls a creamy white to the point where it spills out of you and coats his hefty base with a filthy ring of white. 

All while he continued to praise you, going as far as thank you in quiet little whispers. God, he was out of his mind. He wasn’t thinking in the slightest, his mouth was just saying shit.

So much so that he’s barely lucid as his high comes down, doesn’t process a thing he said to you moments ago, and just lays there for a while with his cock resting inside you. All he can do is pant heavily as he rests his body on top of you, not yet pulling out and leaving his softened cock inside you.

You’re completely still beneath him for a while, trying to catch your breath as your legs feel temporarily numb. You couldn’t get those three words he spoke to you out of your head.

His tone was so damn soft and vulnerable, just replaying it in your head made you smile. Before he notices your expression though, you wipe the smirk off of your face and coo his name softly, “Sukuna…?”

“Don’t.” Is all he has to say to you. He was well aware of what he’d said to you.

He didn’t mean it, of course. He was simply… lost in the moment.

“Aww,” You purr, an obvious breathlessness to your tone, “You said you loved me cause I took your virginit-“

Sukuna lets out a mean groan before moving your legs apart so he can meet your eyes again, “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

You flash a pout to mock him, “Why? ‘Cause I didn’t say it back?”

His face is all different shades of blush but he still looks as mean and grumpy as ever, “No…”

“You sure?” You tease further.

All he can do is roll his eyes at you, “Fuck you.”

And, naturally, you only continue, “I think you did that already…”

Sukuna sighs, “Just.. Don’t tell anyone about this.”

“As long as you promise we’ll do this more often.”

“I-, hah,” He smirks, “What are you, some kinda cockhungry slut?”

“No…” Your eyes drag themselves elsewhere for a moment, “But for you, maybe.”

“Mh.” Sukuna hums deeply, an unavoidable smile spreading across his face, “I think I like that.”

“I think you love it-“

“M’gonna ‘love’ fucking the snarky responses outta’ your mouth in a second if you keep it up,” He says flawlessly.

All you can do is swallow down whatever it is you were going to respond to that with.

To which he smiles, “Uhuh, that’s what I thought.”

Edit after leaks: sorry not sorry to spoil: rip unckuna & fuck gege, bring back gojo NOW. I’m not playin 😂

[angelplummie]

art humping your thigh while you're too busy analyzing his recent matches <33

mhm. u sit with your laptop in bed while art kisses your neck. he’s supposed to be watching too but he’s sleepy, he doesn’t wanna watch anymore, he wants to feel. he presses his lips to the base of your neck, just above your collar bone. you tilt your jaw up to allow his way with you, but you keep your eyes trained on the screen.

“you kept missing on thursday because you centre yourself to the left just a bit. he always hit it to the right and you had to scramble.”

“mm.”

his voice reverberated in your throat as his lips stayed against you.

“i don’t know if you’re playing this guy again, but it’s something to keep in mind.”

“ok.”

he moves over you, shifting his weight till both of his legs are either side of one of yours. he holds your shoulder like a child holds a teddy bear.

his head nestles into your neck, his hair tickles your chin, and you sigh.

“art im trying to help you. they’re fucking you. i don’t want to watch my husband get fucked on the court.”

“can you help me somewhere else?”

you readjust so you can see the laptop better, and kiss his scalp.

“help yourself.”

on the video, art lunges forward, his lean body extending as he grunts like a man and pounds the ball away. sweat pours from every pore on his forehead, chest, arms, and he shines in the sun. it cuts to his competitor, who grazes the ball with his racket to no avail.

in your bed, art presses down onto you, dragging himself backwards. he mewls, hoping to get more of your attention. instead of acknowledging him you pet his hair with a lazy wrist, eyes never leaving the screen. he was playing better now. he won the match after all, but it was still important to review his performance. if he got too comfortable he would start slipping. you needed him on a tight leash if he was going to keep crushing.

he rotates his hips, each time crushing your thigh with a force that must be painful to him. each layer of clothes that separated his flesh from yours slid against the other, the phantom of your touch driving him to desperation.

“you did well for this last set.”

“yeah?”

he pushed himself forward, and drew himself back raking his throbbing groin against your lower thigh. his breath shuddered on your chest. he was working up a rhythm, a dragging, quivering, breathless rhythm.

“yeah. no notes, donaldson.”

“hmm. thank you.”

“are you hard?”

“obviously.”

“i’m not helping you.”

“obviously.”

you laugh. you swirl your fingers in his cropped blonde hair.

“you can do it. i believe in you.”

he doesn’t reply, just groans. his knee was bent, and he held himself up ever so slightly so as to drive himself against you with the most force he could. in his shorts was a sticky, leaking cock, rubbed sensitive. in your panties was a wet, aching pussy. but one of you needed to think of his career.

on the video he sat down, a rest period, with his shirt off, leaning back with his legs spread.

“oh, fuck,” he said, teeth clenched.

you could feel the long thick imprint of his cock, and through all the fabric you could still feel it twitch. you sighed and closed the laptop as his humping quickened and his knee raised further between your legs. as he drove himself down upon you, he knocked his knee to the throbbing of your clit. you breathed deeply.

“you did a good job on thursday. i’m proud of you.”

“thank you. thank you.”

your hand moved to his back, tight from digging his fingers into your shoulder for purchase. he slammed his hips down, making a fwop fabric sounds. you grunted airily.

“that’s enough,” you breathed.

his hips stilled on top of you, pressed to you. he lifted his head, lips parted and cheekbones pink.

“you have a match tommorow. use it.”

[st4rpiece]

needing space after an argument

SFW

characters: luffy, zoro, usopp, sanji x reader summary: an argument with the boys puts your relationship on hold CW: angst no comfort, breaking up (sanji), reader gets hurt, and over 600 words each

pt. 1 | pt. 2

────────────────────₊˚.༄

Monkey D. Luffy

The Sunny swayed gently on the open sea, the rhythm of the waves doing little to soothe the tension that crackled in the air. The ship’s usual harmony, filled with laughter and chatter, had been shattered by the argument unfolding on deck.

“You’re seriously impossible, Lu!” you snapped, your voice rising in frustration. Your chest heaved as you stared him down, fury blazing in your eyes.

“You keep charging into battle without thinking, and we’re always left picking up the pieces!”

Luffy stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, his straw hat tilted forward. His usual grin—bright and carefree—was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his face was set in a rare, serious frown.

“So what?” he said, his tone almost dismissive. “It worked, didn’t it? We’re fine!”

“Fine?!” you repeated, incredulous, your voice rising an octave.

“Sanji’s limping, Zoro’s covered in bandages, the ship’s a mess, again, and you—” you jabbed a finger toward his chest—“you nearly got yourself killed over some stupid treasure we didn’t even need!”

Luffy threw his arms in the air, his voice growing defensive. “It was shiny! I wanted it!”

You groaned, rubbing your temples as you turned away for a moment, trying to reign in your growing frustration.

“Lu, it’s not about the treasure!” you finally yelled, spinning back toward him.

“It’s about how you never listen to anyone! One day, your recklessness is going to get someone killed!”

The deck fell silent, the rest of the crew lingering nearby, pretending not to eavesdrop as they exchanged wary glances.

Luffy’s jaw tightened at your words, his posture stiffening. His carefree demeanor, the one you had come to rely on, was replaced by something cold and uncharacteristically sharp.

“You’re the only one who seems to always have a problem with the way I do things,” he said, his voice low but cutting.

You froze, staring at him as his words began to sink in.

He took a step closer, his dark eyes burning into yours.

“If the way I run my ship bothers you so much…” He hesitated, as if daring himself to say what came next, but when he spoke again, his tone was firm, biting. “…then maybe you should leave.”

It felt like a slap across the face. The air around you stilled, and for a moment, you couldn’t even process what he had said.

“Luffy,” you said, your voice softer now, as though testing to see if you’d heard him right.

But he didn’t take it back. He just stood there, his face stony, his gaze unreadable.

The silence between you stretched, heavy and unbearable. The rest of the crew watched from their spots, wide-eyed and frozen. Even Zoro, who typically stayed out of these things, had shifted slightly, his hand resting on the hilt of his katana as though bracing for the worst.

You clenched your fists, forcing yourself to swallow past the lump rising in your throat. The sharp sting of his words echoed in your mind, cutting deeper with every passing second. When you finally spoke, your voice was low but steady, masking the turmoil inside you.

“Fine,” you said, the word dropping heavily between you.

Luffy’s eyes widened just enough to show a crack in his hardened expression, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t take it back.

Your voice quivered ever so slightly as you drew in a shaky breath, but you straightened your shoulders, determined not to let him see how deeply his words had cut. “I’ll be gone by tonight,” you said, firm and unwavering despite the ache in your chest.

His breath hitched, and for a split second, his resolve seemed to waver. “No wait—” he said, his voice breaking as he took a step forward, his hand lifting like he was reaching for you.

But you didn’t stop. You turned on your heel and strode toward the stairs, your head held high even as your vision blurred. By the time he worked up the courage to say more, you were already gone, leaving behind a silence even heavier than before.

Roronoa Zoro

The dim glow of the setting sun reflected off the water as you stood on the dock, arms crossed tightly over your chest. The once serene atmosphere was marred by the frustration bubbling inside you as you paced back and forth, stealing glances at the path Zoro should’ve come from an hour ago. The excitement you’d felt earlier now replaced with frustration and disappointment.

Finally, you heard the familiar shuffle of his footsteps, followed by his exasperated grumbling.

“Sorry I’m late,” Zoro muttered as he approached, scratching the back of his neck. His face was impassive, as if showing up an hour after your agreed time wasn’t a big deal.

You exhaled sharply, your patience already frayed. “Late? Zoro, you’re not just late—you’re ridiculously late. Again.”

“I got lost,” he said bluntly, like that was supposed to excuse everything.

“You always get lost,” you shot back, exasperated. “I’m not mad about that—I get it, directions aren’t your thing. But you didn’t think to ask someone for help this time? Or maybe even leave a little earlier?”

Zoro let out a short sigh, his arms crossing over his chest. “What do you want me to do? It’s not like I meant to get lost. I tried.”

“Then maybe next time we can just go together,” you suggested, your voice softening slightly despite your frustration. “That way, we can avoid all this and actually enjoy our dates.”

Your words were meant to be a compromise, a way to avoid another night like this, but Zoro’s face darkened at the suggestion. He scoffed, the sharp sound cutting through the cool evening air.

“Go together?” he repeated, his voice sharp. “What, you think I need you to hold my hand everywhere? I’m not a kid.”

“Zoro,” you blinked, taken aback by the sudden hostility in his tone. “That’s not what I—”

“No seriously,” he cut you off, his voice growing louder. “That need of yours to control everything—it’s annoying.”

You froze. For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped moving, his words hitting you harder than you thought possible.

“Controlling?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. “Annoying?”

Zoro faltered for a moment, his expression shifting as if he hadn’t meant for the word to come out. But instead of apologizing, he doubled down, his jaw tightening. “Yeah,” he muttered, though his voice had lost some of its bite.

Your lips parted as you stared at him, completely thrown. You had only wanted to help, to make things easier—for both of you. But now, he was looking at you like you were the problem.

“I… I didn’t think trying to help you was so annoying,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “I just didn’t want us to keep missing time together because you—” You stopped yourself, shaking your head as the lump in your throat grew.“Forget it.”

“Wait,” Zoro said, stepping forward, but you instinctively took a step back.

“No, it’s fine,” you said, your voice tight as you forced a bitter smile. “If me trying to help makes me so controlling and annoying, then I won’t bother anymore.”

“Babe, that’s not—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice firmer now. “I get it, Zoro. You don’t need me, and you sure as hell don’t want my help. Message received.”

You turned away before he could say anything else, your heart twisting painfully as you walked back toward the ship.

Zoro remained motionless, his chest heavy as he watched you walk away. His hand started to lift, a silent urge to call out to you, to stop you—but it faltered, falling limply to his side. The realization settled in like a weight: in his frustration, he hadn’t just lashed out—he’d driven away the one person who always tried to understand him. And now, he could only watch as you disappeared.

God Usopp

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut through as you sat on the Sunny’s deck, fidgeting with your hands. Usopp had been distant for the past two days, barely sparing you a glance and keeping his responses short whenever you tried to talk to him. It wasn’t like him—not with you.

You stole a glance across the ship where he was working on one of his gadgets, his movements tense and hurried, the usual care he put into his work noticeably absent. You’d been patient, waiting for him to come to you, but whatever was bothering him wasn’t going away.

“Usopp,” you finally called, your voice gentle but firm as you stood and walked over to him.

He didn’t look up. “What?”

The coldness in his tone made you flinch, but you pressed on. “Can we talk? You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” he muttered, fiddling unnecessarily with the gadget in his hands.

“Yes, you are,” you said, standing your ground. “What’s going on? Did I do something wrong?”

At that, he froze, his fingers tightening around the tool in his hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said flatly, but his voice lacked conviction.

You crouched down beside him, your brows furrowed. “Then what is it? Why won’t you talk to me?”

He finally looked at you, his jaw tight and his eyes flickering with frustration. “Why’d you call Luffy?”

The question caught you off guard. “What?”

“Two days ago, when you were in trouble,” he said, his voice louder now. “You didn’t call for me. You called for Luffy.”

Realization dawned on you, but before you could respond, he continued.

“Was I just not good enough?” he asked, his tone bitter. “Did you think I couldn’t handle it? That I’d just screw it up and get hurt?”

“What? No, that’s not—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, standing up abruptly and taking a step back. “Just don’t. I get it. I know I’m not as strong as Luffy or Zoro or Sanji. I know I’m not the first one people think of when they’re in danger. But I thought… I thought maybe you—” He stopped himself, shaking his head as he clenched his fists. “Forget it.”

You stood as well, your chest tightening at the hurt in his voice. “Baby, listen to me,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “You are strong and very capable. I called for Luffy simply because he was closer. That’s it.”

But he didn’t look at you, his eyes fixed on the deck. “It doesn’t matter,” he said quietly. “I just… I need some space, okay?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Usopp, the one who always sought you out, who always seemed happiest when you were by his side, was asking you to leave him alone.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sting. “If that’s what you need,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll give you space. But I’m not giving up on this, Usopp. Or you.”

He didn’t respond, only nodding slightly before turning his back to you. You lingered for a moment, hoping he’d say something, anything, to stop you from walking away. But the silence stretched, and eventually, you had no choice but to leave him be.

As you walked away, your heart ached for him, for the insecurities he tried so hard to hide. You could only hope that when he was ready, he’d let you help him see the truth—that in your eyes, Usopp was more than enough.

Vinsmoke Sanji

The evening sun bathed the deck of the Sunny in golden light, but the sight before you felt anything but warm. Sanji stood at the railing, surrounded by a small group of women from the port town you’d just docked in, his eyes sparkling as he lavished them with compliments and dramatic promises of eternal devotion.

You stood at a distance, arms crossed over your chest, watching the scene unfold before you. It wasn’t the first time Sanji had acted like this, and you had always let it slide, convincing yourself that he would stop eventually. But now, the painful truth settled in, and it felt like a dagger twisting in your chest.

When the women finally left, giggling and waving, you stepped forward, your footsteps deliberate. “Sanji,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended.

He turned, his usual cheerful expression faltering when he saw the look on your face. “Oh, my love! Did you see those ladies? They were absolute angels—”

“Why do you keep doing this?” you interrupted, crossing your arms tighter.

“Doing what?” he asked, genuinely confused, tilting his head.

“This,” you said, gesturing toward where the women had just walked off. “Flirting with every woman who so much as glances your way.”

Sanji blinked, his confusion deepening as he processed your words.“My love, what a wrong? You never complained about this before?”

Your jaw clenched, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “That’s because I thought it would stop once we got together. I didn’t think that as your girlfriend I would still have to compete with every pretty women you see.”

His eyes widened, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “But, sweetheart, it’s not like that. You’re not competing with anyone I—”

"It is like that Sanji, and honestly, I can't keep doing this," you interrupted, your voice trembling. "It's clear we're not on the same page when it comes to what’s acceptable in a relationship."

The air between you shifted, thick with the weight of your words, each one hanging in the space between you like an unspoken truth.

Sanji’s mouth opened slightly, his brow furrowing as if he were about to protest, but no words came out. He stood there, frozen, as if the reality of the situation hadn’t fully hit him yet. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he managed to say, his voice a little rough, “Why does this feel like a breakup?”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you. Every word felt like it was trapped, lodged somewhere deep inside, fighting its way to the surface. But you couldn’t hold it back any longer. Your eyes never left Sanji’s face, watching the shock and confusion slowly morph into something you couldn’t bear to see.

“That’s because it is,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible, the weight of the words pressing down on you.

The finality of it echoed in your ears, louder than you ever expected. You wanted to say more, to explain, to somehow make him understand that this wasn’t easy for you, that it wasn’t what you wanted. But the truth was, you had already said everything you needed to. This was the point of no return.

“Wait,” he said, stepping closer, his voice desperate. “Don’t do this baby, please. I didn’t know it bothered you. If I had, I— I would’ve stopped. I’ll stop now. I swear.”

You looked away, willing yourself to stay firm despite the raw emotion in his voice. “It’s not just about stopping, Sanji. It’s about the fact that you didn’t even realize that your actions would hurt me. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t see a problem with flirting with others.”

“Please, my love,” he said, reaching for your hand, but you stepped back, shaking your head.

“I can’t, Sanji,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, each step pulling you further from him.

Sanji stood there, his hand outstretched for a moment longer as if he could reach out and somehow make you stay. But the weight of your words hit him like a punch to the gut. He had lost you—not because he didn’t care, but because he hadn’t shown you he did in the way you needed.

───────────────────₊˚.༄

one piece masterlist

question! how do you guys feel about a queer version of the smau’s with fem or gn reader (idrc) for nami, robin, vivi, perona, boa, and yamato?

it’s in my drafts and i’ll still post it when done just wanted to see if the gays see my vision 🤭

i have two more (one request) for angst but i'll have those up soon now that i’m free from the shackles of school.

anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed :).

not proofread and caps may look weird typed this on my phone and computer 😭

(had to re-upload this didn't realize it posted before I was done)

[guiltyc0nscience]

⋆˙⟡ chris is obsessed with the bulge in your throat when sucking him off

you lay on the edge of chris’ bed, your head tilted back just enough to nearly dangle off, while he stood above you, his tip grazing the soft curve of your lips.

he looked down at you with a grin, his eyes darkened with desire and intensity that sent a shiver through you, every glance seeming to drink in the sight of you like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

he shifted his stance slightly, his movements deliberate as he sought a better angle. his breath hitched for a moment before a low, husky groan escaped his lips. “fuck,” he muttered, his voice heavy with list as his gaze locked onto you.

“look at how perfectly those lips wrap around me…” his words trailed off, his eyes darkening further as he watched your tongue flick out, teasing him with a slow, deliberate taste that made his grip on your boobs tighten slightly.

you parted your lips slowly, inviting chris to slide his length past them, the warmth and softness drawing a low groan from him as he pushed forward.

a satisfied hum escaped you, vibrating against him as you adjusted to the length and feel of him, your lashes fluttering shut while your hands gripped the sheets beneath you. each inch felt deliberate, his movements slow and controlled, as if savouring the sight of your mouth taking him in.

his fingers slid into your hair; tangling gently as he guided your movements with a firm yet unhurried touch, letting you set the pace while he watched. each subtle pull and shift of his hand was deliberate, steering without forcing, as his gaze fixated on the way his cock disappeared between your lips.

the sight alone was enough for small noises to pass his lips, but what had him completely undone was the sight of the bulge forming in your throat as you took him in so deeply.

his free hand moved down, trailing over the curve of your neck, his fingers pressing lightly to feel himself beneath the skin. the sensation made his head fall back for a moment, a guttural groan escaping his lips before he looked down at you again.

“fuck,” he rasped, his voice low and full of raw hunger, “look at you…so perfect, taking me like that.” his thumb stroked gently over the bulge as he bit his lip, savouring every second of the sight before him.

one of your hands trailed down your body, trembling slightly as you found your way to the heat between your thighs. pressing over your baby pink thong, you began rubbing slow, teasing circles over your clit, the thin fabric doing little to muffle the growing ache.

a soft, needy moan slipped from your lips, vibrating around chris in a way that made his head snap back, a sharp hiss breaking from his mouth. his grip in your hair tightened, not rough but enough to hold your attention as his gaze flicked down to where your hands worked against yourself.

“fuck, baby,” he groaned, his voice strained and full of awe, “you’re so good…so fucking good.” his free hand slid down your cheek, brushing over your jaw as he smirked, his hips stuttering slightly from the sensations you were giving him. “keep going,” he urged, his tone dripping with want. “i’m so close, ma.”

chris’ hips began to move faster, each thrust more urgent as his need to release overtook him. the rhythm was relentless, and you felt the intensity building with every movement. your eyes squeezed shut, tears prickling at the corners as your throat worked around him, earning a guttural groan that sent a shiver down your spine.

"fuck, baby... look at that," he rasped, his voice thick with awe and desperation. his hands moved from your hair, sliding beneath your neck to cradle it, his thumbs brushing tenderly over the bulge that formed in your throat each time he pushed deeper. the mix of his rough desire and gentle touch made your head spin, and the way his eyes darkened as he watched you rub over your clothed pussy.

“fuck, fuck, fuck," chris chanted, his voice breaking as his head fell back, every muscle in his body tightening as he teetered on the edge. his grip on your neck faltered for a moment, his fingers flexing as his hips bucked forward.

"i'm gonna come, baby," he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as a sharp hiss escaped his lips, the sound raw and desperate.

with a final thrust, his release hit, thick, hot ropes of cum spilling into your mouth. his body trembled above you, a low, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he struggled to catch his breath.

"shit, baby," he panted, opening his eyes as he slipped out your mouth, his chest heaving as he smirked. "you're fucking perfect." his thumb brushed against your swollen lips, his gaze locked on you as you swallowed every drop, sending another shiver through him.

[emoerotica]

"What You Want"

・❥・Sevika x Reader Smut・❥・

Sevika takes you out to the newest party in Zaun. But instead of focusing on the scenery you're surrounded by, you set your focus on something better. Something bigger. Something you can't keep your need from.

・❥・ ・❥・

"What You Want"

The pounding bass of the club's music reverberated in your chest, a wild symphony of sound mingling with the laughter and shouts of patrons. The air was heavy—thick with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and the faint tang of smoke. Bodies writhed on the dancefloor, their movements a chaotic blur of energy and color under the pulsing neon lights.

A firm hand curled around your arm, grounding you in the chaos. "This way," Sevika’s gravelly voice cut through the noise. Her grip was steady, guiding you through the throng with effortless authority. The crowd seemed to part for her, whether by sheer force of presence or the sharp, don't-mess-with-me glare etched on her face.

You found yourselves at a small, battered table tucked in the shadowy corner of the club. The worn leather couch creaked as you settled into it, its surface sticky and cracked from years of abuse. Across from you, Sevika sank into her chair with a casual confidence, her broad shoulders stretching the fabric of her jacket.

The table was alive with action. A group of men sat around it, cards in hand, gold scattered across the tabletop. Their conversation was loud and raucous, peppered with curses and boasts as they gambled away their winnings.

Sevika leaned forward, her sharp gaze sweeping over the table like a predator sizing up prey. “Deal me in,” she said coolly, her tone leaving no room for argument. One of the men looked up, startled, but before he could protest, Sevika tossed a handful of gold onto the pile, the coins clinking loudly against the table.

“You’re late to the game,” one of the men muttered, his tone a mix of irritation and nervousness.

Sevika smirked, not bothering to hide the arrogance in her expression. “I make up for it with skill.”

Before the dealer could even reach for the cards, Sevika’s hand shot out, snatching a half-empty glass of amber liquid from the man beside her. His jaw dropped in protest. “Hey! That’s—”

Sevika silenced him with a look—a glare so sharp it could’ve cut through steel. “Relax, you’ll live.” She swirled the glass lazily, the liquid catching the light before she took a long, deliberate swig. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she set the glass down with a sharp *clink*.

The man muttered under his breath but didn’t push the issue. Sevika leaned back in her seat, adjusting herself with an air of nonchalance. Her legs spread slightly, her posture oozing confidence and control as she glanced over the cards she’d been dealt.

Your gaze wandered, drawn to her without meaning to. The curve of her shoulders, the defined lines of her arms, the way her movements seemed both calculated and effortless—it was impossible not to notice. Heat rose to your cheeks as you caught yourself staring. You quickly looked away, your heart thundering in your chest.

A low chuckle rumbled from Sevika’s chest, pulling your attention back to her. She was watching you now, her head tilted slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “See something you like?” she drawled, her tone teasing yet edged with confidence.

Your face burned as you scrambled for a response, but nothing coherent came out. She laughed softly, shaking her head, before turning her attention back to the game. Despite the haze of embarrassment, you couldn’t help but steal another glance at her, mesmerized by the raw power and charisma she carried so effortlessly.

The game dragged on, tension thickening at the table as cards exchanged hands and gold shifted piles. Sevika played with a lazy confidence, a smirk curling her lips every time she laid down a winning hand. It was a game of dominance as much as skill, and she owned the table with every flick of her wrist.

Finally, with one last play, Sevika tossed down her cards. “Rotten luck, boys,” she said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. A low laugh rumbled from her throat as she leaned back, arms draped over the back of the couch in a pose that screamed triumph.

The men groaned in disappointment, curses flying as they collected their remaining coins. The ambient noise of the club—booming music, raucous laughter, and shouted conversations—swallowed their frustration. But none of it mattered to you. Your attention was locked on Sevika.  

The way she moved was hypnotic, her every shift of muscle an unspoken declaration of power. Your gaze traced the lines of her body: the bronze gleam of her skin under the neon lights, the sharp definition of her arms, the subtle curve of her collarbone visible where her shirt opened slightly. She tilted her head, smirking as she idly spun one of the discarded cards between her fingers, completely at ease.

Your heart raced as you realized your staring had become more obvious. You shifted awkwardly, nerves prickling at your skin as the men beside you jostled for space. The club felt too small, too hot, and the press of bodies around you only added to your unease. Adjusting yourself on the couch, you tried to focus on anything but Sevika—but your eyes betrayed you.

When you glanced back at her, you froze.  

Her gaze was locked on you now, dark and unreadable. Her smirk softened into something more intimate, more deliberate, as her eyes roamed over you. Slowly, deliberately, they traveled from your lips, up to your eyes, and back again. The club’s chaos seemed to dim, leaving just the two of you in a charged silence.  

Your breath hitched under the weight of her attention. It wasn’t just the way she looked at you—it was how she did it, like she was peeling back every layer of your composure with a single glance. You swallowed hard, the heat in your chest spreading to the pit of your stomach.

“Getting comfy over there?” Sevika’s voice broke the moment, low and teasing, though her eyes never left yours.  

“I—uh...” Words failed you. You could barely hear yourself over the pounding of your pulse, let alone form a coherent response.  

Sevika chuckled, her grin widening as she leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. “Careful,” she murmured, her voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “You keep looking at me like that, people might start getting ideas.”

The air between you felt electric, the tension building with every passing second. It was impossible to look away, impossible to breathe without feeling her gaze on you. And the way she looked at you now—hungry, confident, and completely unapologetic—left you wondering if she knew exactly what she was doing to you.  

Sevika stretched leisurely, rolling her shoulders as if shedding the weight of the night’s game. With a smirk of satisfaction, she scooped up her winnings, the clinking of coins filling the air as she stuffed them into a small pouch. Her movements were brisk, her focus now clearly elsewhere.

“Let’s go,” she said, her voice low and firm. It wasn’t a request.

You stood, trying to steady yourself as you squeezed past the men flanking you, their eyes flickering between Sevika and you with expressions that were hard to read—curiosity? Envy? You couldn’t quite place it, but it left an uneasy feeling curling in your stomach. You lingered a few steps away, watching as Sevika adjusted her coat and secured her pouch before sauntering toward you.

The heavy thud of her boots against the club’s floor echoed louder than the fading remnants of the music. She stopped in front of you, her broad frame momentarily blocking out the chaotic world behind her. Her robotic hand came to rest against the small of your back, its touch cold but steady. It wasn’t forceful, but it carried an unspoken command that made your pulse quicken.

Without another word, Sevika guided you toward the club’s exit. You moved through the thinning crowd, the haze of smoke and flashing lights fading behind you. The air outside was cooler, but the tension didn’t ease. The muffled thrum of the music from inside the club followed you for a few moments before disappearing into the quiet hum of Zaun’s streets.  

Sevika didn’t remove her hand as you walked, the firm weight of it grounding you in a way you couldn’t quite explain. Her pace was unhurried, but there was purpose in every step, her presence commanding even in the dim light of the streetlamps and flickering neon signs.

“What?” she asked suddenly, catching your sidelong glance. Her tone was casual, but there was an edge of amusement to it.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, your voice a little too high-pitched to sound convincing.

Her smirk returned, sharp and knowing. “Sure it is.”

The streets of Zaun were alive in their own way, even at night. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting sickly hues of pink, green, and blue across the cracked pavement. The air was heavy with the acrid tang of smog, oil, and rust, mingling with the faint hum of machinery and muffled shouts from lingering partygoers. A faint mist coiled around your feet, pooling in small puddles of grime and reflecting the neon glow in fractured rainbows.

Sevika walked beside you, her boots striking the uneven stone with steady authority. Her hand stayed firm on the small of your back, its heat grounding you in the chaos of Zaun’s restless streets. She didn’t say much, but she didn’t need to; her presence alone filled the space between you, a silent declaration of command and protection.  

Then she stopped.

You blinked, surprised by her sudden halt, and looked around. The two of you had come to a narrow, shadowed alleyway. The walls on either side were lined with rusted pipes dripping condensation into the darkness below, where heaps of discarded crates and trash were shrouded in dim light. The faint buzz of a flickering neon sign overhead was the only sound, aside from your own unsteady breathing.

“Here?” you asked, your voice breaking the silence. “Why did we stop—?”

Before you could finish, Sevika grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the alley with swift determination.  

“Hey! Sevika—what are you—” You stumbled, caught off guard by her abruptness, but she steadied you with a firm grip. Her other hand slid to your waist, her touch deliberate and unyielding.  

Her lips curled into a smirk, her face shadowed but unmistakably confident. “What does it look like I’m doing?” she asked, her voice gravelly, her tone brimming with heat and challenge.  

The shadows seemed to grow heavier as she maneuvered you further into the alley. You tried to focus on your surroundings—the rust-streaked bricks, the faint gleam of moisture on the ground—but Sevika’s presence dominated everything. She finally stopped, turning to face you fully. The sharp angles of her face were highlighted in the dim light, her scar cutting a path down her cheek, her expression an intoxicating mix of amusement and hunger.  

“You’ve been staring all night,” she said, her voice dropping to a low murmur that wrapped around you like smoke. Her eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense. “Figured I’d give you something worth staring at.”

Your mouth opened, but no words came. The heat of her gaze pinned you in place, and the alley seemed to shrink, leaving nothing but Sevika and the erratic pounding of your heart. “I wasn’t—” you started weakly, your voice faltering.  

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her tone soft but commanding. Her smirk widened as she stepped closer, and you instinctively backed up—until your shoulders hit the rough, damp wall of the alley.  

She loomed over you, her body mere inches from yours. “Sevika—” you began again, but she cut you off, her smirk fading into something far more intense.  

“Shh,” she whispered, leaning in. Her breath was warm against your ear, her voice dripping with quiet confidence. “I saw the way you looked at me. Felt it, too.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears, your chest tightening as she leaned back just enough to study your face. Her eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail. “You don’t have to hide it,” she murmured, her lips curving upward again. “I know what you want.”

Her robotic hand slid to your hip, the cool metal biting against your skin through your clothes, sending a jolt through you. You swallowed hard, your voice caught in your throat.

“So,” she drawled, her head tilting slightly as her gaze flicked to your lips, “why don’t you tell me?”  

But before you could even attempt to respond, Sevika’s hand shifted to cup your jaw, tilting your face upward. Her lips crashed against yours with an intensity that stole the breath from your lungs. The kiss was heated, her movements filled with need and purpose. She kissed you like she meant to claim you, her grip firm and unrelenting as she pressed you further against the wall.

The world around you dissolved into nothing—just the heat of her lips, the faint metallic taste of the oil that clung to the air, and the intoxicating scent of her. The rough texture of the wall behind you contrasted with the warmth of her body against yours, her presence overwhelming every sense you had.  

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her breath coming heavy but controlled. “That answer your question?” she asked, her voice low and rasping, her lips brushing yours as she spoke.  

You nodded quickly, the motion almost instinctive, and before you could think twice, you surged forward, crashing your lips back against hers. Your arms wound around her neck, pulling her closer with a desperate urgency that surprised even you. Sevika’s low, satisfied chuckle rumbled against your lips, but she didn’t hesitate to meet your intensity, her hands gripping your waist and pulling you flush against her.

The lack of space between your bodies was intoxicating. You could feel the heat radiating from her, the firm press of her toned body against yours, and the cold edge of her mechanical arm as it shifted to rest against the small of your back. The contrast of her warmth and the chill of metal only heightened the electric tension that had been building all night.

Her lips moved against yours with a fierce hunger, her dominance unmistakable in the way she kissed you like she was claiming every part of you. You tugged her closer, your fingers tangling in her dark hair as your heart thundered in your chest. The wall at your back grounded you, but Sevika’s overwhelming presence made you feel like the world was spinning.

When she pulled back, her breath was warm against your skin as she studied you, her eyes dark and filled with something primal. “Didn’t know you had that in you,” she teased, her voice husky, the corner of her lips curling into a smirk.  

You felt your cheeks flush, but there was no time to dwell on your embarrassment as she leaned back in, her lips trailing down the line of your jaw and toward your neck. The sensation sent shivers racing down your spine, and a soft gasp escaped your lips before you could stop it.  

Her breath ghosted over your skin, and she chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating through you. “You’re making this too easy,” she murmured, her voice dripping with amusement and heat.  

Your grip on her tightened as she pressed her lips to the sensitive skin of your neck, her teeth grazing just enough to make your breath hitch. “Sevika��” you whispered, her name slipping past your lips almost involuntarily.  

“Hm?” she hummed against your skin, clearly enjoying the effect she was having on you. Her robotic hand slid upward, resting just below your ribcage, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat flooding your senses. “Tell me what you want,” she murmured, her tone both a command and an invitation.  

The sounds of Zaun felt miles away now—the flickering lights, the distant voices, the hum of machinery—all drowned out by the sound of your heart pounding in your ears and Sevika’s low, intoxicating voice. Every fiber of your being was focused on her, on the way her body pressed against yours, on the tension hanging between you both like a wire stretched to its limit.  

Your lips parted, your voice shaky but determined. “You.”  

Her smirk returned, sharper and more dangerous this time, and her hand tightened on your waist as she leaned back just enough to meet your eyes. “Good,” she said simply, her voice rough and thick with satisfaction, before pulling you back into another searing kiss.

Sevika’s lips left yours, trailing a heated path back to your jawline, her touch deliberate and electrifying. The scrape of her teeth against your skin sent shivers racing down your spine, and when she reached your neck, she didn’t hesitate. She pressed her lips to the sensitive curve where your neck met your shoulder, her kisses slow and intentional.  

Then came the bite.

A sharp gasp tore from your throat as her teeth sank gently into your skin, the pressure sending a jolt of sensation through your entire body. It wasn’t enough to hurt—just enough to mark. Your hands clutched at her broad shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscle beneath her coat. The cold wall against your back and the heat of her body against yours blurred into nothingness; all you could focus on was the way her lips and teeth worked against your neck.  

She alternated between soft, open-mouthed kisses and playful nips, her breath warm against your flushed skin. Each bite left a small sting that quickly melted into a dull, throbbing heat, and you could already feel the marks blooming—tiny imprints of her claim. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, like every nerve in your body had come alive.  

"Sevika," you breathed, her name slipping from your lips in a voice you barely recognized.  

She pulled back just enough to smirk against your skin, her tongue flicking over the spot she’d just bitten. “What?” she teased, her voice low and rough, sending another shiver through you. “Can’t handle it?”  

You shook your head quickly, though your body betrayed you by arching into her, silently begging for more. “It’s—” You struggled for words, your mind hazy with sensation. “It feels—”  

“Good?” she finished for you, her tone smug. Her robotic hand moved up your back, its cool touch grounding you even as her lips began their assault again, this time on the other side of your neck. She bit down a little harder, drawing a sharp gasp from you that she clearly relished.  

“Gods, Sevika…” you whispered, your voice shaky, your fingers tightening in her hair. Each bite, each kiss, each scrape of her teeth sent waves of heat rolling through you. The sensation was both overwhelming and addictive—every small mark she left on your skin felt like a brand, a reminder of just how thoroughly she was claiming you in that moment.  

When she finally pulled back to look at you, her lips were slightly swollen, and her eyes were dark with satisfaction. Her gaze flicked to the marks on your neck, a small, self-satisfied smirk curling at the edges of her mouth. “You wear those well,” she murmured, her voice thick with pride and possession.  

You could barely catch your breath, your chest rising and falling as you stared at her, dazed. Your skin was still buzzing from the attention she’d given it, each mark tingling as if her lips had never left.  

“You’re not gonna forget this anytime soon,” she added, her smirk widening. Her thumb brushed against one of the fresh marks on your neck, sending another wave of heat through you. “And neither is anyone else.”

Your legs trembled beneath you, the sheer intensity of the moment threatening to pull you under. The heat Sevika had stirred spread like wildfire through your body, landing low in your core, where it pooled and throbbed with a maddening ache. You tried to steady yourself, gripping her shoulders tighter, but every brush of her lips, every flick of her tongue, every small bite on your neck only made the sensation worse—or better. You weren’t sure anymore.  

The marks she left felt like they burned, tiny brands on your skin that sent jolts of heat racing straight through you. Each kiss seemed to pull you deeper, unraveling your composure thread by thread. Your breath came in short gasps, your chest rising and falling against hers as you clung to her like she was the only thing keeping you upright.  

“Sevika…” you whispered, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Your voice wavered, thick with need and a vulnerability that made her smirk widen.  

Her hand moved lower, her fingers splaying possessively over your waist as she pressed her body closer, trapping you against the cold, damp wall. “What’s the matter?” she asked, her voice thick with amusement and heat. The gravelly edge of it sent another wave of warmth coursing through you. “You’re shaking.”  

You swallowed hard, trying to find the words, but they stuck in your throat, overwhelmed by the haze of desire clouding your thoughts. She leaned in again, her lips brushing against your ear, her breath hot and teasing.  

“Can’t handle me?” she taunted, her voice dropping to a low purr that sent shivers straight down your spine.  

The way her lips moved, the deep, sultry tone of her voice, and the weight of her presence made your knees feel weak, like the ground beneath you might give way at any second. You clung to her harder, your body instinctively pressing closer as if proximity alone could quell the inferno she’d ignited within you.  

“I can handle you,” you managed to say, though your voice came out shaky and uneven.  

Her laugh was deep and husky, vibrating against your skin as she pressed her lips to your jaw, slowly working her way back down to the sensitive curve of your neck. “That right?” she murmured, her tone challenging and utterly confident.  

The pressure of her body against yours, the heat of her lips, and the tingling sting of the marks she’d left were too much. Your body betrayed you, your legs trembling again as the fire in your core grew almost unbearable. Sevika noticed, of course, her smirk turning almost predatory.  

“Guess I’ll have to see just how much you can take,” she said, her robotic hand sliding lower to grip your hip with a firmness that made your breath hitch. Her eyes locked onto yours, dark and full of promise, before her lips descended on yours again, consuming you in a kiss that left no room for thought—only feeling.

Her tongue brushed against yours, and a quiet moan escaped you before you could stop it. The sound seemed to fuel her, and she pressed you harder against the wall, her hips grinding against yours with deliberate intention. The friction was almost too much, the heat coiling low in your stomach and spreading through you like wildfire. You could feel her smile against your lips, her fingers digging into the flesh of your hip as her body pinned you against the wall.

There was no escaping her now, not that you wanted to. Every movement of her lips against yours, every bite of her teeth, every stroke of her tongue drew you deeper. Your heart raced, your blood rushing in your ears as she consumed you. It was almost too much to process—the way her body held you captive, the way her kisses left you breathless, and the way her mechanical arm anchored you against the wall as her other hand slid up the inside of your thigh.

Sevika paused just long enough to let her eyes flick over you. You looked debauched already, your lips parted, your eyes heavy-lidded, your clothes disheveled. The sight made her smirk deepen, a rush of pride filling her chest. But she wasn't done.

She leaned in again, her lips moving to the shell of your ear. Her voice was low and gravelly, dripping with heat and confidence. "You're gonna scream my name."

Her fingers slid beneath the waistband of your pants, brushing against the damp fabric of your underwear, and a sharp gasp tore from your throat. "Sevika..." you whispered, your voice shaky and thin, a tremor running through you.

"That's it," she murmured, her tongue darting out to tease the spot just below your ear, the sensation drawing a small whine from you. Her fingers toyed with the fabric, tugging and rubbing in a way that had you panting. "You gonna come for me?" she asked, her voice a husky whisper.

Your body was on fire, the ache in your core becoming almost unbearable. She didn't ease up, her fingers tracing patterns against the soaked fabric, the pressure just enough to keep the flames from being doused. You bucked against her, desperate for more, and she laughed softly, clearly enjoying every second.

"Patience," she said, her tone thick with satisfaction. Her lips brushed against the marks on your neck, the pressure making them tingle, the sensation sending shivers straight down your spine. "Or you'll regret it."

Your hands gripped her shoulders, fingers digging into her shirt, but she didn't stop. Her touch was deliberate, controlled, and the heat building within you threatened to boil over. "Sevika, please..." you begged, unable to control the words tumbling from your lips.

"Please what?" she murmured, her voice a low growl. She knew exactly what you wanted, but she was enjoying the desperation too much to relent.

"I need you." Your voice was hoarse, strained with need, and the way her gaze locked onto yours made you feel like prey caught in the hunter's trap.

"That so?" she drawled, her lips quirking upward. "You do look pretty good like this."

Her fingers pushed the damp fabric aside, finally brushing against the sensitive bud of nerves, and you gasped sharply, your hips bucking against her hand. She chuckled, the low sound rumbling against your neck as she trailed her lips along your jaw.

"So desperate," she teased, her breath ghosting over your skin. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

Before you could respond, her fingers found the wet heat of your folds, stroking and teasing until you were a whimpering mess. Your fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt, your head thrown back against the wall. She didn't ease up, her thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves while her fingers worked their magic.

The alleyway melted away, the chaos of Zaun dissolving into nothingness. There was only Sevika, her body pressed flush against yours, her lips and fingers driving you toward the edge. Your heart pounded, your breathing ragged, your body burning with need.

Then she slid a finger inside you, the sudden pressure drawing a choked moan from your throat. "Sevika!" you gasped, her name spilling from your lips like a plea.

"Fuck," she groaned, her voice thick with satisfaction. "You feel so good."

You arched into her, desperate for more, and her lips crashed against yours again, capturing your moans and swallowing your pleas. Her hand moved faster, her thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves, and your release came barreling down on you with dizzying intensity.

You broke the kiss, a string of curses falling from your lips as your orgasm tore through you. The tension coiling in your core snapped, the flames roaring into an inferno, and everything went white. Her fingers worked relentlessly, drawing out the sensation until you were spent.

She pulled back, her lips curved into a smirk, her gaze dark and hungry. Her fingers slid from between your legs, and she brought them to her lips, the taste of you evident in her expression. "Told you you'd scream my name," she said, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

The haze of pleasure faded, and you realized your entire body was trembling, the aftershocks rippling through you like waves. You took a few unsteady breaths, trying to regain some composure, but it was nearly impossible with her standing so close.

Sevika studied you, her eyes roaming over you in a way that made the heat pooling between your legs surge back. "Not bad," she mused, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. "But we're not done yet."

Her robotic hand came up to tilt your chin, her fingers pressing against the fresh marks on your neck, drawing a gasp from you.

"Now, how about I give you something else worth screaming about?"

[cupidhoons]

( 엔하이픈 ) ⎯⎯ 𝓃𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝓇𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 ⊹ 𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 . . . 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖽 ₍ ᐢ..ᐢ ₎

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝖿! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 x 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 ─── 𝒢𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦. 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 ꒰ ✉️ ꒱ 𝓌𝘤 300 𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖾𝗆 ⟡ ⌢ .    𝓌𝘢𝘳𝘯.  𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗈𝗋 + 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 ୨୧ 𝓇𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 ／ 𝖫𝖨𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖱𝖸

𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘻 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗍 !! ><

HEESEUNG \ 희승

The towel in your hands barely makes it to your hair before Heeseung appears, his long fingers brushing against yours as he takes it. His lips twitch into a faint smile as he steps closer, unfolding the towel with a precise snap. Without a word, he drapes it over your head, the soft fabric settling around your shoulders like a comforting hug.  

“Sit here,” he murmurs, guiding you toward the edge of the bed. The mattress dips slightly under your weight as he kneels behind you, his knees pressing into the plush carpet.  

He starts by patting your hair gently, the rhythmic motions soothing against your scalp. Every so often, his knuckles graze your neck, sending a trail of warmth down your spine. You glance at his reflection in the mirror, catching the way his brows are slightly furrowed, his lips set in a determined line.  

“You’re really concentrating, huh?” you tease, watching the corners of his mouth curve upward slightly.  

“I want it to be perfect,” he replies, his tone light but genuine. Switching the towel for the hair dryer, he pauses, checking the settings before holding it at just the right angle. His fingers comb through your damp strands, separating them with care to ensure the heat reaches every section.  

The warmth from the dryer mingles with the heat of his hands, as you close your eyes, letting the steady hum lull you. He pauses briefly, smoothing a few stubborn tangles with his fingertips.  

“Almost done,” he says softly, his breath brushing against your ear. He clicks off the dryer and gently brushes your hair back over your shoulders. Leaning forward, he presses a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling away.  

“All set,” he whispers, smoothing your hair one last time. His smile reflects in the mirror, his eyes crinkling slightly as he catches your gaze. “Go get some rest. I’ll be there in a moment.”  

JAY \ 제이

You’re halfway through unscrewing the lid of your cleanser when Jay’s hand wraps around yours, his grip warm but firm. He slides the bottle out of your grasp, setting it back on the counter with care. “Let me,” he says, his voice steady but soft, almost a question rather than a command.  

You blink at him, but his calm gaze and the faint curl of his lips make it hard to argue. With a slight tilt of his head, he motions for you to sit on the stool near the sink.  

Jay pumps a small amount of cleanser into his hand, rubbing it between his palms to warm it up. The scent of your cleanser fills the air as he steps closer, his fingers brushing lightly against your jaw as he tilts your head up. “Close your eyes,” he murmurs, his tone gentle but certain.  

The first touch of his fingertips against your skin is cool, but his careful, circular motions quickly warm it. He moves slowly, meticulously covering every inch of your face, his thumbs gliding over your cheeks and forehead. 

A quiet hum escapes him, almost like he’s lost in thought as he works. Occasionally, his knuckles graze your temple, his touch tender. When he reaches your nose, he chuckles softly. “Hold still, or I’ll miss a spot.”  

You open one eye to find him smiling faintly, the soft light catching the sharp angles of his face. “What?” he asks, pausing mid-motion when he notices your stare.  

“Nothing,” you reply, lips twitching upward. “I appreciate your help.”  

He finishes by rinsing your face with a warm cloth, the heat soothing against your skin. After dabbing your face dry, he leans in, brushing a kiss across your forehead. “There,” he says, his voice low but full of satisfaction. “All done. You look perfect.”  

JAKE \ 제이크

The sound of running water barely masks Jake’s footsteps as he appears behind you, his reflection in the mirror catching your eye. His hand reaches out, stilling yours before you can grab your moisturizer. “Hey,” he says softly, his smile easy and warm. “Let me do it tonight.”  

You hesitate, the familiar weight of responsibility tugging at you, but he’s already stepping closer, his fingers curling gently around your wrist. “Trust me,” he adds, his eyes crinkling slightly as he takes the bottle from your grasp.  

“Sit,” he gestures toward the edge of the bed. His tone is playful, but there’s something about the way he moves—steady and confident—that makes you comply.  

Jake kneels in front of you, squeezing a dollop of moisturizer onto his fingertips. He glances up, his brows slightly raised as if asking for your approval. When you nod, he starts with your cheeks, his hands warm as they glide over your skin.  

The faint scent of vanilla wafts between you, mixing with the quiet rhythm of his breathing. His thumbs move in slow, circular motions, pausing occasionally to smooth out an area he thinks needs extra care. “This is nice,” he says quietly, his voice almost a whisper.  

“Yeah?” you reply, your eyes half-closed.  

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his gaze flicking briefly to meet yours. There’s a softness in his expression, a quiet focus that makes your chest tighten.  

When he finishes, he leans forward, brushing a kiss to the corner of your lips. His hands linger on your jaw for a moment before he pulls back, his grin returning. “You’re glowing,” he says, tapping your nose lightly.  

You laugh, swatting at his hand. “All thanks to you, huh?”  

“Of course,” he replies, standing and stretching. “Now, let me tuck you in.”  

SUNGHOON \ 성훈

The bathroom is quiet except for the gentle hum of the hair dryer. Sunghoon stands behind you, his tall frame outlined in the mirror. His left hand holds the dryer, while his right gently parts sections of your hair with his fingers, each movement precise and careful.  

He works methodically, starting at the roots and moving down to the tips. His hand grazes your neck occasionally, his touch light but lingering. You glance at his reflection, noticing the way his brows knit together in concentration, his lips pressed into a thoughtful line.  

“Are you always this focused?” you tease, your voice cutting through the low whir of the dryer.  

He meets your gaze in the mirror, his expression softening into a faint smile. “I don’t want to miss a spot,” he replies, his tone casual but his actions speaking volumes.  

Once he’s satisfied with the top layers, he switches the dryer to a cooler setting, his fingers sifting through the ends to ensure they’re dry. The warmth from the dryer fades, but his hands linger, brushing your hair over one shoulder.  

“There,” he murmurs, setting the dryer aside. His fingers gather your hair, twisting it into a loose braid. You watch him work, his movements fluid yet gentle, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.  

When he finishes, he leans over your shoulder, his lips brushing softly against your temple. “Perfect,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.  

He steps back, catching your gaze in the mirror. “All set,” he says, his smile returning. “Now go rest. You look beautiful.”  

SUNOO \ 선우

The faint scent of lavender lingers in the air as Sunoo pads into the room, a cotton pad and your favorite toner in hand. You’re sitting cross-legged on the bed, rubbing your temples after a long day, when he nudges your knee with his.  

“Close your eyes,” he says softly, crouching beside you. His voice is light, but his movements are steady, purposeful.  

You do as he asks, feeling the cool touch of the toner against your skin a moment later. Sunoo’s hands are gentle, his fingers brushing against your jaw as he dabs the cotton pad across your cheeks and forehead.  

The room is quiet except for the faint rustling of fabric as he shifts closer. His thumbs pause at your temples, moving in small, soothing circles. “This helps, right?” he asks, his tone barely above a whisper.  

You hum in response, leaning into his touch. He smiles, though you don’t see it, the warmth in his expression evident in the way his hands linger.  

When he finishes, he sets the cotton pad aside and reaches for your moisturizer. “One more step,” he murmurs, squeezing a small amount onto his fingertips.  

His touch is even lighter this time, spreading the cream with careful precision. He leans in as he smooths it over your nose, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead before pulling back.  

“All done,” he says, his smile evident in his voice. “Now, no more worrying. You’re in good hands tonight.”  

JUNGWON \ 정원

You’re about to unscrew the lid of your toner when Jungwon steps in, his hand gently wrapping around yours. “Let me,” he says, his voice calm but firm. The corners of his mouth tug upward in a soft smile as he takes the bottle from your grasp.  

“Sit here,” he says, motioning toward the chair near your vanity. He grabs a cotton pad, pouring just the right amount of toner onto it before turning to face you.  

You watch as he kneels in front of you, his knees pressing into the carpet. He tilts your chin up with a gentle touch, the pad cool against your skin as he starts dabbing it along your jawline.  

His movements are steady, his brows furrowed slightly as he works. “Tell me if I’m too rough,” he says quietly, though his touch is nothing but soft.  

“You’re fine,” you reply, closing your eyes. The faint rustle of fabric fills the room as he shifts to reach your cheeks, his hand steady against your temple.  

When he finishes with the toner, he sets it aside and reaches for your serum. He applies it with the same care, his fingers moving in small, circular motions to ensure it absorbs evenly.  

“Perfect,” he says under his breath, almost to himself. His hand lingers on your cheek for a moment before he leans forward, brushing a kiss against your forehead.  

“You work too hard,” he murmurs, his voice low but filled with warmth. “Let me take care of you more often.”  

RIKI \ 니키

Ni-ki snatches the brush from your hand, twirling it between his fingers with a grin. “I’ve got this,” he says, motioning for you to sit on the bed.  

You raise an eyebrow but comply, sitting cross-legged as he kneels behind you. “Don’t mess it up,” you warn, though your tone is more playful than serious.  

“Trust me,” he replies, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He starts brushing through your damp hair, his movements surprisingly gentle.  

His fingers occasionally graze your scalp as he works, the brush gliding smoothly through the strands. “You have nice hair,” he says casually, his voice softening.  

“Thanks to you?” you tease, glancing over your shoulder.  

“Obviously,” he shoots back, leaning forward slightly. The warmth of his breath brushes against your neck, and you feel his hands pause briefly before resuming.  

When he finishes brushing, he gathers your hair over one shoulder, his fingers working deftly to twist it into a loose braid. Leaning closer, he presses a quick kiss to your shoulder, his grin evident in the mirror.  

“All done,” he says, sitting back on his heels. “You’re lucky to have me.”  

[beloveds-embrace]

(more of omegaverse 141 x reader who has no designation)

It had been a long day, but the warmth of the common area beckoned you like a sanctuary. You stepped in quietly, cradling a mug of tea in your hands, your oversized sweater slipping slightly off one shoulder. The room was dimly lit, bathed in the soft golden glow of a lamp.

Price was seated at the small table, pretending to read reports but glancing up the moment you entered. Soap was sprawled on the couch, his legs thrown over one armrest, while Gaz sat in the corner with a book in hand. Ghost lingered near the far wall, cleaning a blade with slow, deliberate movements. As you entered, you gave them a simple, silent nod.

You didn’t notice the way their gazes softened at the sight of you, their focus shifting entirely to you without hesitation.

(more of omegaverse 141 x reader who has no designation)

You sank into the armchair nearest the couch, tucking your legs up underneath you like a contented cat. The sweater sleeves slipped down over your hands, and you tugged them back absentmindedly, cupping the mug close to your chest to warm your fingers.

They all noticed.

Price’s jaw tightened as he set the report aside, his eyes flicking over your form like he was assessing something unspoken. Soap sat up slightly, his usual grin replaced by a softer, almost yearning expression. Gaz closed his book without a word, while Ghost stilled entirely, his dark gaze fixed on you.

With each passing day, they became more and more attuned to you.

“You alright, love?” Price asked finally, his voice quiet but steady.

You looked up, blinking as though pulled from a dream. “Hm? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

“You look tired,” Gaz said gently, leaning forward towards you, an unseen force keeping him entirely in your orbit.

You shrugged, blowing softly on your tea before taking a sip. “Long day. Nothing new.”

That wasn’t the answer they wanted. Something about you today-your sweater, your quiet presence, the way you seemed to fold into yourself like you were smaller than you were- made their instincts surge. You looked soft, warm, and… alone.

It was unbearable.

Soap broke the silence first. “You ever been in a nest before, lass?” he asked casually, though his eyes betrayed his careful intent.

You paused mid-sip, lowering the mug to your lap. “No.” you said, tone carefully neutral, but something flickered in your eyes.

Gaz frowned, tilting his head. “Never?”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening around the mug. “Not really. My parents… didn’t let me.”

You could hear a pin drop in the sudden silence that fell.

“Why not?” Ghost’s voice was low, a dangerous edge beneath the calm.

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I wasn’t… like my siblings. They all had proper designations. I didn’t. My parents said it wouldn’t feel… natural for me to join them.”

The words were delivered so matter-of-factly, but the way your shoulders tensed gave you away.

Price’s fists clenched on the table, his knuckles white. “That’s rubbish.” he said, tight with restrained anger on your behalf.

“It’s fine,” you said quickly, not wanting to dwell on it. “I didn’t mind. It wasn’t like I really needed to-”

“You did,” Gaz cut in, his voice firmer than usual. “Everyone needs that. It’s not just for designated people.”

Soap let out a long, slow breath, running a hand through his hair. “Bloody hell, lass. You’ve been missin’ out.”

“It’s not a big deal, never been.” you insisted, though your voice was quieter now.

Price stood abruptly, his chair scraping back. “It is a big deal,” he said firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. “And we’re fixing it. Now.”

“Fixing it?” you asked, confused.

“You’re coming with us.” Ghost said, his tone leaving no room for argument. An order that he simply expected you to follow.

“What? Where?”

“To the nest,” Gaz was already standing and holding out a hand to you. “You need it.”

You looked between them, your mug still clutched in your hands. “I don’t… I mean, I’m not sure I’d…”

Soap crouched down in front of you, his blue eyes soft but insistent. “Trust us, bonnie. You’re gonna love it.”

The nest was in their shared quarters, a carefully crafted space that spoke of warmth and safety; it reminded you of your parents', on the few occasions you'd been allowed to look at it. It was larger than you expected, layered with blankets of different textures and colors, plush pillows arranged in a way that made it seem both chaotic and deliberate. You could even smell it; earthy, rich, and grounding, so they must spend a lot of time here, so much so it has taken on such subtle (to you) scents.

They guided you in gently, as though afraid you might bolt. Ghost was the first to settle in, reclining against the far edge of the nest, able to see all of the room, and watching you closely. Gaz and Soap coaxed you to sit between them, their movements light and careful, while Price lingered by the door for a moment, eyes softening before he joined.

You sat stiffly at first, unsure of where to put your hands or how to position yourself. The space felt too intimate, too sacred for someone like you.

“You don’t have to sit like you’re at attention, love,” Price said gently, easing down beside you. He grabbed one of the blankets, draping it over your lap and fussing with it until he deemed it perfect. His voice was rumbly, satisfied. “Relax.”

Soap leaned back against a pillow, nudging your leg with his. “This is your space too, lass. We’re not shovin’ you out anytime soon.”

Slowly, tentatively, you allowed yourself to relax. You leaned back against the cushions, your body sinking into the softness.

“There,” Ghost murmured, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “That’s better.”

For a while, no one spoke. The silence was filled with the quiet hum of their presence, the steady rhythm of their breathing- their soft purrs and rumbles you'd normally not notice that easily.

“Feels… nice,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

Price smiled, his hand resting lightly on your knee. “Told you it would.”

“You deserve this, love,” Gaz said, his voice warm and earnest. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Ghost leaned closer, his broad frame enveloping the space around you. “Anyone tries to take this from you,” he said quietly, “they’ll answer to us.”

And for the first time in a long while, you felt truly welcomed.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Gang Baby || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

Summary: inspired by this song since its been on replay 😛😛

Warnings: slighting suggestive content

Word count: 1,621

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“I didn’t know your sister was gonna be here, Top,” Ryan’s voice cuts through the laid-back chatter, his tone laced with intrigue. The hum of an engine grows louder, pulling all heads toward your G-Wagon as it glides effortlessly onto the sand, coming to a stop just a few metres away from the group. The sleek black vehicle stands out starkly against the golden beach, drawing the kind of attention that was almost second nature for you.

Topper doesn’t bother turning around again, already refocused on his beer. He shrugs, his response casual. “Neither did I,” he mutters before taking another sip, seemingly unbothered by your unexpected arrival. But Rafe isn’t as composed. His eyes stay fixed on the car, his grip tightening slightly on his bottle as he watches you climb out, exuding a natural confidence that instantly commands attention.

The sunlight catches on your sunglasses as you slide them onto your head, your laughter mingling with the crash of the waves as a group of your girlfriends spills out behind you. You move with an easy grace, chatting and gesturing as you all begin unloading blankets and bags from the trunk. Unaware—or perhaps indifferent—to the stares from across the beach, you pick a spot just far enough to have your own space but close enough that the guys still have a perfect view.

As you and your friends start setting up, the group’s conversations stall, interest clearly diverted. Topper remains the exception. He keeps his gaze forward, not even sparing a glance. It’s as if he’s immune to the spell you cast so effortlessly, a talent even he couldn’t deny you had. The moment you and your friends strip off your cover-ups, revealing brightly coloured bikinis, there’s a palpable shift in the air.

The sunlight glints off your skin, highlighting the subtle shimmer of lotion as you toss your clothes onto the blanket without a second thought. You laugh at something one of your friends says, the sound light and carefree, as the group collectively saunters toward the waterline. Ryan lets out a loud wolf whistle, shattering the silence and drawing out a chorus of laughter and low whistles from the others.

“Fuck off, man.” Topper’s sharp voice cuts through the noise as he whips around to glare at Ryan. “She’s my sister. Have some respect, yeah?” Ryan smirks, leaning back against the cooler with an air of mock innocence. He holds up his hands in surrender, though the glint in his eyes says he’s anything but apologetic. “Relax, Top. No harm meant.” Topper groans, rolling his eyes as he pushes himself up. “You’re all idiots,” he mutters, stalking off toward the cooler for another beer.

The group’s laughter dies down as they return to their conversations, but Rafe remains quiet, his gaze still fixed on you. You’ve reached the waterline now, dipping your toes into the waves as they lap against the shore. The breeze catches your hair, tossing it slightly as you tilt your head back and laugh again, completely unaware of the effect you’re having—or perhaps you know exactly what you’re doing. Rafe’s jaw tenses, his fingers absently drumming against the bottle in his hand.

He forces himself to take a sip, masking his reaction, but his eyes betray him. They keep flickering back to you, drawn like a magnet, even as he tries to focus on the conversation swirling around him. "God, if only she’d let me hit," Ryan groans, his voice dripping with mock longing as his gaze lingers on you. You’re standing a little ways off, twisting your hair into a messy bun with an ease that only seems to amplify the effortlessness of your beauty.

The wind tugs lightly at the hem of your cover-up, and Ryan’s comment draws a few snickers from the group. Rafe freezes mid-sip, his jaw tightening as his eyes dart toward Ryan. He lowers his beer slowly, scoffing loudly enough to turn a few heads. "What a shame, Ryan," he says, his voice thick with sarcasm, his words aimed like a blade. Ryan turns toward him, clearly not expecting the jab. "What’s that supposed to mean?" he asks, his expression souring as he narrows his eyes at Rafe.

Rafe shrugs, leaning back with an air of practiced nonchalance, though the tension in his shoulders betrays him. "Maybe the reason she won’t is because she's got standards," he replies bluntly, his words landing with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Ryan’s reaction is immediate. His eyes widen in shock before they harden into a glare, his posture stiffening as he steps closer. "The fuck did you just say, Cameron?" he growls, his voice low and threatening, clearly not accustomed to being called out.

Rafe meets his glare with an unflinching gaze, his expression calm but simmering with disdain. "You heard me," he says evenly, not bothering to repeat himself. Ryan huffs out a sharp breath, clearly fuming but trying to hold onto the last shreds of his composure. "She said she was waiting till marriage or some shit," he snaps, his tone dismissive, as if the concept itself was laughable. "Yeah right," Rafe cuts in, his voice cold and dripping with condescension as he interrupts Ryan mid-sentence.

His scoff carries an undercurrent of anger, and his eyes flick toward you briefly. You’re still by the water, laughing with your friends, blissfully unaware of the brewing tension. Ryan’s fists clench at his sides, his anger boiling over as he steps even closer to Rafe, his face only inches away. "You got something else to say? Spit it the fuck out," he snarls, his voice taut with frustration. Rafe doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink.

Instead, a slow, mocking smirk curls at the corner of his lips as he leans forward, lowering his voice just enough to force Ryan to lean in. "I already did," he says coolly, the edge in his tone cutting deeper than anything else could. The group falls silent, the weight of the tension hanging thick in the air. A few of them exchange uneasy glances, waiting to see if Ryan will push further, but Rafe doesn’t seem to care. He grabs his beer again, taking a long, deliberate sip as if Ryan isn’t even worth his energy.

"She's a virgin, man," Ryan chimes in again, his tone laced with smug certainty as he leans back, clearly enjoying the stir he’s causing. Rafe groans quietly, rolling his eyes as Ryan keeps going, unable to stop himself. "That's what she told you?" Rafe asks, cocking an eyebrow at him, his voice low and incredulous. Ryan furrows his brows, leaning forward slightly, confusion flickering across his face. "Yeah—" "She's obviously fucking lying," Rafe cuts in sharply, his words blunt and dripping with disdain as he tilts his beer bottle to his lips.

Ryan’s head snaps toward him, his irritation flaring instantly. "And how the fuck would you know?" he snaps, his voice defensive, as if daring Rafe to prove him wrong. Rafe sets his beer down with a deliberate clink, turning to fully face Ryan. His expression is a mixture of disbelief and frustration, like he can’t believe he’s even having this conversation. "Holy shit, Ryan. Are you fucking stupid?" he says, his tone laced with equal parts annoyance and amusement.

It was almost mind-boggling to Rafe how Ryan still didn’t get it, how he wasn’t piecing things together. The blatant cluelessness was almost impressive, like Ryan was completely oblivious to what was right in front of him. The group exchanged knowing glances, all of them silently acknowledging what Rafe was talking about. But Ryan—still too thick-headed to catch on—remained completely in the dark.

Rafe let out a short, exasperated laugh, shaking his head. "Jesus Christ, man," he muttered under his breath, taking a long sip of his beer to mask his disbelief. The others could only watch in quiet amusement, waiting for Ryan to finally catch up. Before Ryan could say anything else, a voice cut through the tension. “Hey.”

Everyone’s heads turned to see you approaching, the sun catching the golden tones in your hair as your sandals softly crunched against the sand. You carried yourself with the same effortless confidence that had all their attention earlier. A slow smirk spread across Rafe’s face as he leaned back in his seat. “Hey, baby,” he greeted, his voice dropping slightly as he spoke.

You smiled warmly in return, leaning down to meet him halfway as his lips captured yours in a kiss, lingering just long enough to make the rest of the guys visibly uncomfortable. Ryan’s jaw practically hit the floor, his eyes widening in stunned disbelief. Pulling back, you placed a hand on Rafe’s shoulder casually, your gaze flickering briefly toward the group.

“You still comin’ over tonight?” Rafe asked, his tone casual, though there was a distinct possessiveness behind it as he glanced at Ryan. You hummed in agreement, nodding your head as your eyes locked with Ryan’s, who now looked utterly blank, his mind clearly reeling. The corner of your mouth quirked up slightly, amused by his reaction.

Rafe caught the exchange and snickered, leaning forward with a smug grin. “Can’t believe you told him that,” he teased, his voice laced with sarcasm as he nodded toward Ryan. Feigning innocence, you turned back to Rafe, a small smirk playing on your lips. “Tell him what?” you asked sweetly, batting your lashes as if you had no idea what he was talking about.

Rafe raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes narrowing slightly in mock suspicion, but the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed him. Shaking his head, he let out a quiet laugh, his hand finding your waist as he pulled you closer.

[loves0phelia]

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. 

[kinardsevan]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

i don't know that i'm satisfied with how this ends, but the stills got me thinking more about the idea of Maddie being the one who tells Buck that he needs to call Tommy, and then I was already working on a coffee date recreation, so have this:

-

Maddie looks at the loaves of bread spread out on the counter and then back up at her brother, tilting her head to the side. 

“Evan. I thought you said you were doing okay,” she states, leaning up at against the counter next to her husband. 

“I am,” he insists. 

“So why are there four loaves of bread on the counter,” Chimney asks, confused. “That seems like you’re overloading your schedule to occupy your time.” 

“I’m not,” Evan counters, looking back and forth between them. They both stare back at him skeptically. 

“Dude, come on,” Chimney insists. “I know that sweater you had on the other night was one of Tommy’s. Between that, the lack of shaving, and now the abundance of food-..”

“I’m dealing,” Evan insists. Maddie sighs, looking over at her husband. He raises his hands and picks up his wine glass before glancing between them. 

“I’m gonna go see what’s on the sports channel,” he states before walking out of the room and into the living room. Maddie moves closer to Evan, rounding the counter. 

“I’m fine,” he repeats, but when Maddie looks up at him with that face—the one that tells him she isn’t buying the shit he’s selling—he sighs and shakes is head. “I mean I should be, shouldn’t I? It’s not like we were together that long.” 

“Six months,” Maddie states. 

Evan nods. “Yeah, and? I mean I was with Taylor for longer. She actually moved in here.” 

Maddie stares at him for a moment and then furrows her brow at him. “Wait, what is that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing,” Evan insists. “It doesn’t mean anything when Tommy doesn’t think I’d stay with him anyway.” 

“No, no, it clearly means something,” Maddie counters. “I’m not letting you drop it that easily. Talk to me. Tell me what actually happened.” 

Evan huffs, leaning against the counter. 

“We were talking about Abby, and I was telling him how that relationship had been transformative for me, at least until I met him, a-and then I told him that I wanted him to move in with me.” 

“Okay,” Maddie replies, processing his words. “And you told him you love him, right?” 

Evan stares at her as though she’s gone Blue Screen on him and she bobs her head forward, gaping at him slightly. 

“Evan.” She comments. “You told him how you feel, right?” 

“I- I thought- I mean we-..” 

“Okay, I’m sorry, I can’t fake that I’m not paying attention this long,” Chimney states as he crosses back into the kitchen. “You asked Tommy to move in with you without telling him how you feel about him?” 

“I told him I admire him,” Evan argues. 

Maddie inhales a deep breath and shakes her head, trying to remain composed as she returns to Chimney’s side. “What exactly did you say to him?” 

Evan gulps, but then proceeds to explain to both Maddie and Chimney was he said, trying his best not to paraphrase. By the time he’s finished, Maddie and Chimney are looking at each other, both of their jaws slack. 

After a moment, Chimney turns back toward his glass of wine and picks it up and takes a long sip from it. 

“Yeah, I think I might’ve broken up with you too,” Chimney states when he sets the glass back down. 

“What the hell,” Evan counters, waving a hand out at him. 

“Look, Buck, you ran over him like the proverbial steam roller. And I’m sorry, but from the way it sounds, it comes across as being told that you want to live with him because he’s great at being gay and that makes you feel good,” Maddie explains. 

“Not to mention the Brandon of it all,” Chimney mutters, lifting his drink to take another sip. He raises an eyebrow when both Buckley siblings turn toward him. 

“The who?” “Huh?” 

Chimney takes a deep breath, mouthing an ‘oh’ before setting his glass back down. “This is why I’m not allowed to know things,” he mutters. He shakes his head. “Brandon was this kid Tommy dated around the time he was leaving the 118.” 

“I thought he wasn’t out yet,” Evan interjects. 

“He wasn’t,” Chimney answers with a nod. “But Brandon was this kid out of another house, one of the ones Tommy had looked at transferring to, I think. Anyway, you could tell after Gerrard and Sal were gone that he was loosening up and becoming more comfortable with himself, and even though he wasn’t quite there yet, he was getting there.” 

“So?” Evan asks. 

“So, three months into it, he tells me over beers that the guy wants to move in together, make all these plans for the future, is talking about buying a house. The whole nine yards. But Brandon was just coming out of a divorce, with a woman. Sold Tommy the moon, and T went for it. Gave up the place he was in, moved in with this guy into his apartment that he also was sharing with his two kids part-time.” 

Evan gulps, because he can see the writing on the wall. 

“See, Brandon hadn’t been with other men before. And they lasted about three months longer before Tommy found out that he was seeing other people. He alternated between mine and Sal’s couch for a month after that until he got the place he’s in now.” 

“He was in love with him,” Evan surmises in a rasp. 

“He thought he’d found the person he was supposed to be with,” Chimney says with a nod. “And when I tell you it took him years to get over that-..” 

“Fuck,” Evan mutters under his breath, leaning more against the island. 

Maddie waits a moment, glancing back and forth between her brother and her husband before she finally speaks up again. 

“So to be clear, I understand why Tommy panicked and took off, but why would you skip over actually telling him how you feel,” she asks. “I mean you have to get that that’s important. It probably would’ve made a massive difference in the conversation.” 

Evan inhales a deep breath and shakes his head, looking down at the counter. 

“Oh,” Maddie states. “You’re scared too.” 

He looks back up at her, his expression somber. “I mean people leave me. A-and that’s exactly what he did.” 

“Buck,” she coaxes, rounding the counter again. She runs her hand up his back as her other hand curls around the inside of his bicep. “You can’t be mad at him for being scared if you can’t also be honest about how you’re feeling.” 

He glances up at her, and his eyes are so sad that it makes her want to go into her mothering role and order him to call Tommy. 

“What if he won’t listen to me,” he rasps. She leans against his shoulder and gives him a sympathetic look. 

“I mean, I’ve never heard you even mention wanting to marry someone else,” she replies softly. “That’s gotta be worth something, right?” 

Evan stares down at the counter again. 

“You should call him,” Chimney interjects, when they look back up at him, he’s taking another sip of his wine. Maddie just chuckles at him before squeezing Evan’s arm and nodding. She leans up and kisses his cheek. 

“Call him.” 

. . . 

Evan pulls his jacket tighter around his body as he settles into the cafe chair. He’s not entirely sure Tommy will show, even though the other man had texted he would. He can’t help but feel the weight that’s been making it’s home in his chest just a little heavier right now. A week ago, they were celebrating six months from that first kiss, and somehow he’s finding himself sitting at a different café, but still, six months from the day that he’d asked Tommy to be his date to his sister’s wedding. 

So much is different now, though. He didn’t have to guess Tommy’s coffee order because he knows it by heart. There’s a box in his car filled with belongings that he really doesn’t want to give back, but if this discussion doesn’t go in the right direction, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. 

Still, he can’t stop thinking about the guy on the crane from the day before, and how after they’d gotten him off to the hospital, all Evan could think about was how his people had banded around him in the aftermath. His team had kept him alive, and then they’d remained vigilant at his side while he healed. He’d had people show up in his corner every step of the way. It’s not lost on him now that Tommy has faced a life primarily without that same feeling, and that unlike him, Tommy didn’t find a forged family at work. Plus, then there’s the information he learned about the ex-boyfriend, and all of it has him seeing Tommy in an entirely different lens. 

“Hey.” Tommy’s voice is raspier, sadder than the last time he heard it as he comes around the corner of the building. Evan still perks up at the sight of him, although he’s more subdued than the last time they met up like this. 

“Hey,” he replies softly, gesturing toward the chair across from him. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me.” 

Tommy nods, and there’s a rush of pain in Evan’s chest at the lack of of course. 

“I got you a coffee,” he adds, gesturing towards it on the table. Tommy pulls his chair out and sits down. 

“Thanks,” he says, though there’s no mirth in his tone like there was that first time.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think,” Evan states nervously as Tommy takes a sip of the drink. There’s the slightest twitch around his mouth—one the younger man has come to recognize as Tommy thinking that it tastes right. He’s very particular on his flavor and cream-to-sugar ratio, so knowing he’s still getting right gives Evan a flush of pride. “The last time we met like this, I said there was a lot of that we didn’t know about each other.” 

“Practically everything,” Tommy parrots so softly, it barely has any vocal tone in it. Evan nods. 

“Except, I do know things about you now,” Evan counters. “I know- I know that you don’t like to be awake before seven AM if you’re not on shift. I know that you think the perfect setting for the thermostat is always sixty-six, no matter what time of year it is. I know that you take three creamers and the tiniest dash of cinnamon in your coffee.” 

“Buck-..” 

“Let me finish,” Evan counters, cringing at the way that name sounds coming out of Tommy’s mouth. He takes a deep breath and looks around them before continuing. “I know your mom died when you were six, and your dad blamed you for it. I know you spent the next eleven years trying to do anything you could to keep him appeased and a target off your back, including stuffing down who you are so far down that it took you over a decade to crawl back out of that toxic mindset. And I know that all of that left you with scars, even though you don’t talk about them. I know-…I know that you would rather run because it’s easier to protect yourself than sign up for the possibility of getting hurt again.” Evan pauses and gulps as Tommy stares at him, looking very uncomfortable. 

“So I need to apologize,” he says with a breath. 

Tommy furrows his brow at him, baffled by the statement. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

“Yes, Tommy, I do,” Evan counters, this time more insistent than he had been on that first coffee date.“I  threw a lot at you that night. I- I know that I told you I wanted to move in together, and that I was talking about a future without any practicality behind it because I just lept with both feet like I always do.” 

“I didn’t call things off because of your impulsivity,” Tommy counters. “I did it because-..” 

“Because you’ve been down that road before,” Evan finishes for him. “And it ended badly. I know that about you, too. And, the way I sounded that night…it wasn’t what I should’ve said.” 

“Okay?” Tommy acquiesces. 

Evan takes another breath and leans forward in his seat, gesturing at the space between them. “You said that when I asked you to move in with me, that I was still figuring myself out, and that everything was still new and exciting for me. And the thing is, you’re right, and you’re wrong. You’re right that things are new and exciting, but not because they’re with a man; it’s because they’re with you. And six months ago when I told you that I didn’t know what I was ready for, that was true, but now I do. It’s not about being ready for something different, Tommy, it’s about being ready for something different with you. S-so when I say I lept with both feet the other night without thinking, I missed a step in there.” 

Tommy stares at him apprehensively, giving him the space to continue. Evan sits up a little straighter. 

“I got so caught up in the process of commenting on the ways things have changed and all that you’ve done to get yourself to where you are now that I never stopped to consider how it would sound coming out of my mouth. A-and part of that was because I thought if I just convinced you to stay with me, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as bad if you decided that I was too much.” 

Tommy leans back in his seat, eyes widening slightly at Evan’s words. 

“I um, I know about Brandon,” he states. “And on the subject of exes, I never told you about Taylor, or how Lucy played into of how things ended with her.” He inhales a breath and then proceeds to explain Lucy’s time at the 118, their shared kiss, and how he’d been living with Taylor at the time. “And the thing is, when I moved in with her and told her I loved her, it was from a selfish place, o-of wanting to keep her around because people just kept leaving, and I couldn’t stand to lose anyone else.” 

Tommy lets out a soft sigh and leans forward. “Evan.” 

Evan shakes his head. “No. Don’t- it’s not- I’m not saying all of that because I’m chasing after you to keep you from leaving. I- I mean I am, but not like that. I mean to say that, I trapped Taylor, however unintentionally, with the idea that if she was with me, that I could make it work. Eventually, it got to the point where I couldn’t keep trying to make the pieces fit, and we split up.” 

Tommy nods. 

“But this isn’t that,” Evan continues. “This has never been that. I asked you to move in with me because I want to be with you day and night. B-because I see a future with you, and because nothing has ever felt as right as this has felt. And I understand that maybe- no, it was moving too fast. And that I skipped right over the part where I should’ve told you that I want to be with you not because it feels good or because I think you being gay makes me better at being bisexual, or anything like that. I want to be with you because I’m in love with you.” 

Tommy takes a deep breath at his statement. 

“I don’t expect you to say it back if you’re not there, a-and I don’t expect you to move in with me. That was an impulsive decision. But I’m not in a place where I’m ready to give up on this,” he states. “I love you enough that I’m willing to go at your pace this time.” 

Tommy stares at him for a beat, quiet and contemplative. “Are you sure about this?” 

“Am I sure that I love you?” Evan counters. “That I’m pretty positive on.” 

The response forces a small smile onto Tommy’s face. After a breath, he gives a small nod. 

“Okay.” 

“Yeah?” Evan asks him. 

Tommy gulps and nods. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Because I love you, too.” 

Evan grins at him, at this time, it’s Tommy who reaches across the table and grabs his hand, squeezing it. 

[haikyuuhoo]

if i could bring you anything, i swear to god i'd bring you peace

pairing: suguru x reader

wc: 811

a/n: had a sad girl moment yesterday, so enjoy this fluff i dredged up from the depths of my drafts <3

listen

The muffled sound of your music goes quiet, and you wait a few beats before pushing yourself up to check what’s wrong. You take a deep breath as you breach the surface of the water, lungs burning at the intake of air, and your eyebrows pinch together almost immediately in annoyance at the sight in front of you.

“What are you doing?” Suguru isn’t even trying to hide the amused, albeit slightly concerned, look on his face. He’s sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, spinning your phone between his fingers.

“Having a sad girl bathtub moment, what does it look like?” you huff, leaning forward to grab the device—he really had the nerve to stop the music in the middle of such a good song—but he holds it above his head and out of your reach.

“Like you’re trying to see how long you can hold your breath. Like you dropped your ring but it fell down the drain when you were trying to get it and you don't know how to tell me so now you’ve given up. Like maybe I should be more worried. Should I be more worried?” He raises an eyebrow and you let out a quiet sigh, your shoulders sagging slightly with the motion, and the sight makes it feel like a weight has settled on his chest.

“No, I’m fine, can I please just have my music back?” You stick your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the puppy dog eyes you know usually make him fold.

But Suguru still doesn’t hand over your phone and instead sets it on the counter. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Rough day?”

His voice is so soft it threatens to break down the walls you’ve been holding up since you got out of bed that morning.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “I just didn’t know when you’d be home, and—”

“You could have texted me.” Suguru frowns, but you wave him off.

“It’s not that big of a deal, I wasn’t gonna bother you.”

Suguru lets out an almost exasperated laugh, and the sound makes your belly warm. “Anything that makes you want to do this is a big enough deal to me.” He grabs your phone off the counter. “Tell you what. You have until I’m done making dinner to finish sad girl bathtub hours. You can still be sad, and we can talk about your day if you want to, or we can do something else. But what I’m not going to let you do is turn into a human-sized prune in our bathtub.” He sets your phone on the edge of the tub and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Okay?”

You nod slowly, relaxing at the lingering feeling of his lips on your skin before tilting your head up to urge him into a kiss.

Suguru hums into your mouth, pulling back for a fleeting moment to nudge his nose against your cheek. “Say okay,” he whispers.

 “Okay,” you breathe, and you lean closer to capture his lips again and deepen the kiss. You pull one hand out from under the water and cup his jaw before pushing your fingers into his hair, your teeth flashing in the briefest glimpse of a grin at the way he jumps when water trickles down his neck.

He pulls away and you have to fight off a laugh as he wipes at the back of his head and noticeably shivers. “I’ll call for you when dinner’s ready.”

“Or…” You tilt your head to the side and give him a sweet smile. “You could join me?”

Suguru huffs out a ‘no-fucking-way’ laugh and shakes his head. “Absolutely not. That water is way too cold.” You pout, but he’s already standing up and turning toward the door. “I mean it. We can have sad girl blanket burrito hours or sad girl movie marathon hours, but we’re not going to have sad-girl-getting-hypothermia-in-the-bath hours.”

And this time you do laugh, and in that moment you both know he’s made the breakthrough you needed from him. “Okay, okay. I’ll see you at dinner.”

He nods, and he begins making his way back out of the bathroom when you call for him.

“Suguru?”

He turns back around and raises an eyebrow in a silent question.

“I love you,” you murmur with a voice so soft it makes his heart swell. “And thank you.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “I love you too.”

You watch him leave the bathroom and then close your eyes, letting yourself take what feels like the first deep breath you’ve been able to manage all day. And then you look at where your phone is still resting on the side of the tub, waiting for you to press play, and you reach forward and pull the drain.

fun fact i felt like i needed to title this some phoebe bridgers lyric but i'm sadly not a phoebe girlie and i couldn't lie to y'all like that

reblogs & comments always appreciated <3

[tinyluvs]

Spencer coming back from a case and all you want to do is smooch him but he keeps talking?

omg yes please 🥹🥹 tysm for the rq my love 🫶🏻

you hear him before you see him, greeting his neighbour in the hallway outside of his apartment, keys jangling quietly in his hand and before you can stop yourself, you're jumping over the back of his couch

"spence!" you gasp, full of excitement when the door swings open and he wanders in. you bound towards him, barely giving him a chance to drop his bag before you're jumping into his arms

he wraps an arm around you, the other smoothing over the underneath of your thigh, "hi honey," he sighs, happily, his eyes fluttering shut while you pepper kisses over his cheeks

"i've missed you,' you whisper as he kicks the door shut behind him. you hold his face in your hands, thumbs ghosting over his cheeks, the rest of your fingers tangling gently in his hair

he hums, in agreement but doesn't reply, letting you pull him in slowly, kissing him properly, his bottom lip pressing in between yours. gently he sets you down, his hands squeezing at your hips

pulling away, you immediately grab at his hand, dragging him towards the couch. he sits down first, like always, in the corner of the couch before he's tugging on your hand, pulling you down on top of him so you're sat in his lap

"you okay?" you ask, watching him roll his head back to lean against the back of the couch cushion. your fingers mess with the end of his tie, a habit you'd picked up since dating him

"much better now i'm with you," he smiles softly his fingers tracing down the dip in your spine. he looks so good, hair slightly messy, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, all you can do is stare at him

both of you sit in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, hands ghosting over any part of the others body that they come across. you can't take it anymore, he looks too good

you lean forwards, kissing him again though he doesn't expect it, a small gasp being muffled by your mouth on his. your hands slide up his body, resting on either side of his neck, holding him there.

spencer chuckles and in turn breaks the kiss when you pull away to frown at him, "you have missed me," he smiles wider, soft brown eyes gazing up at you like you're everything to him

"i have, very much" you pout slightly before smiling. you try to kiss him again but he moves, arm keeping you steady while he sits up properly.

"hey, want to hear what emily and morgan were talking about earlier?" he asks but clearly doesn't care for a reply, "so, get this"

it's cruel, the way you tune him out. you feel bad for it but your brain simply isn't working. you return to kissing at his cheek, slow spaced out kisses that have him smiling against you, you can't see it but you feel it under your lips

"and then," you cut him off with a quick kiss against the corner of his mouth before your moving across to his other cheek, "i think jj was there too?" he thinks

you groan, head lolling back, "spence, angel," you huff and he looks at you throughly confused, "shush a minute, please" you beg, not bothering to see him react before you're crowding into his space again

he kisses you back this time, fingers digging into your waist, pulling you towards him gently. you hum happily against him, letting your tongue swipe over his bottom lip

spencer had never really kissed a girl until he met you, not that you would've known with the way he's always kissed you like it's a skill he's had forever. you're practically melting into him, all of your weight pressed against his front

your teeth graze over his lip ever so slightly before you're pulling away, kissing over his jaw while you catch your breath. he tilts his head back, again, allowing you better access while you pull at his tie

"oh! guess what i saw while we were on the jet" he says, like you're not starting to nip at his neck

"spencer," you whine, pulling away from him again, he stares at you wide eyes, "you know i love you, right?" you ask, he nods, "then pease do not take this the wrong way,"

"okay?"

"if you do not shut up and just let me make out with you for a while," you say almost breathlessly, "i may explode"

his eyes widen further, "oh," he says simply and you roll your eyes, gripping at the collar of his shirt. in one swift movement you go from sitting up, in his lap, to him laying under you, "oh"

"oh indeed, now shush"

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

[goldfades]

blurb based of joes frustration at the end of the game pretty plzzzzz

it’s not the first time you’ve seen him like this, jaw tight, eyes stormy, the weight of a thousand unspoken words pressing against the set of his mouth. but tonight feels different. sharper, maybe. rawer. his shoulders slump as he sinks onto the edge of the couch, the post-game silence clinging to him like an ill-fitted coat.

you don’t say anything at first, because what’s there to say? you know better than to try and fill the cracks with empty words—he’d see right through you anyway. instead, you linger in the doorway, arms crossed loosely, studying the way his hands rub at his face, frustration bleeding through the spaces between his fingers.

“rough one,” you offer finally, voice quiet, testing. it’s not much, but it’s something.

he doesn’t look at you, just shakes his head in that way that’s less no and more don’t even start.

“joey—”

“not tonight.” his voice cuts across the room, low and strained, and it stings more than you care to admit. not because he’s angry—it’s not the first time the aftermath of a loss has made him short—but because he won’t let you help carry the weight. he never does.

you hesitate, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. you could leave him to stew in his own misery, give him the space he seems to want so badly.

but then again, that’s never been your style.

you push off the doorframe, making your way toward him despite the tension crackling like static in the room. the air feels heavier with every step, but you don’t stop until you’re standing right in front of him. he still doesn’t look up, but you can feel the heat of his frustration radiating off him, see it in the way his leg bounces like a drumbeat he can’t silence.

“i’m not trying to fix it,” you say, your tone soft but steady, letting the words settle between you. “i just don’t want you sitting here drowning in it alone.”

his hands drop to his lap, and finally, finally, his eyes meet yours. they’re tired, bloodshot, and edged with something sharp enough to cut. “i don’t need a pep talk,” he mutters, his voice a low rasp. “i know what went wrong. i don’t need anyone telling me how to feel about it.”

“good thing i’m not here to give you one,” you reply, easing yourself down onto the couch beside him. close, but not too close. it’s a delicate dance, one you’ve learned to navigate over time. “but i am here. whether you like it or not.”

his gaze flickers to you for a moment, a brief flash of something softer breaking through the storm before he looks away again. he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, head dropping into his hands. “it’s just… god, it’s so fucking frustrating.” the words come out ragged, pulled from somewhere deep and aching. “i know we’re better than this. i know i’m better than this. but tonight… it felt like nothing i did was good enough.”

there’s a beat of silence, heavy and loaded. you let it hang there for a moment before leaning back against the couch, your head tilting slightly as you watch him. “you ever think that maybe it’s not all on you?”

his head snaps up at that, and you can see the protest forming on his lips before he even says a word. “it is on me,” he argues, voice sharper now, cutting through the quiet. “that’s my job. that’s what being the quarterback means. i’m supposed to lead, supposed to—”

“supposed to be perfect?” you cut in, raising a brow.

the question hangs in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, he just stares at you, his jaw working like he’s trying to find the right words to throw back at you. but then he exhales, the fight draining out of him just as quickly as it flared up.

“it’s not about being perfect,” he says finally, quieter now, almost like he’s trying to convince himself. “it’s about…” he trails off, his hands running through his hair in a way that makes it stick up in every direction. “fuck, i don’t know. i just hate losing.”

“i know.” your voice softens, the sharp edges smoothing out as you reach over to nudge his shoulder gently with yours. “but it’s not just about tonight, is it?”

he doesn’t answer right away, but the silence says enough. you know how he gets—how the losses pile up in his mind, not just the ones on the field but the ones in his own head. every missed pass, every fumble, every moment where the weight of the world feels like it’s on his back. it’s not fair, but he carries it anyway, like he doesn’t know how to do anything else.

“you’re allowed to be mad,” you say eventually, your voice low but firm. “you’re allowed to be frustrated, to hate losing, to feel like shit about it. but you don’t have to shoulder all of it alone. that’s what i’m here for, joey.”

he doesn’t say anything, but the way his shoulders drop just a fraction tells you he’s listening. you reach out, your hand finding his on the couch between you, your fingers brushing lightly against his knuckles. it’s a small gesture, but it feels like enough.

for now, at least.

his hand shifts on the couch, brushing against yours for just a second before he grabs it. firm, almost desperate. it’s a small move, but it catches you off guard—joe’s never been one to reach out like this, not when he’s all wrapped up in his head. but then he’s tugging you toward him, his grip strong enough to make it clear he’s not letting go anytime soon.

he doesn’t say a word as he pulls you into his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. the hug is tight—bone-crushing, really—but you don’t mind. if anything, it tells you just how much he’s been holding back.

“i hate this,” he mutters against your skin, his voice muffled but no less raw. “i hate feeling like this. like i let everyone down. like i’m not good enough.”

“joey…” you start, but he shakes his head against you, cutting you off before you can say anything else.

“just—let me get it out, okay?” his words come fast, tumbling over each other like they’ve been bottled up too long. “the offense couldn’t get going. the o-line was all over the place. and me? i was fucking useless out there. missing reads, throwing late… i don’t know what the hell was wrong with me tonight.”

you don’t interrupt, don’t try to argue with him or tell him he’s being too hard on himself. you know better than to try and fix it for him, not when he’s like this. instead, you just hold him tighter, your hand moving to his back to rub slow, soothing circles.

when he finally pulls back, it’s only to sink down onto the couch, pulling you with him until you’re lying back against the cushions. he rests his head on your chest, his weight pressing into you in a way that feels grounding, like he’s letting himself find a moment of peace in the chaos.

your hands move without thinking, running up and down his arm in that slow, rhythmic way you know he likes. it’s a small thing, but it’s enough to make his breathing even out, the tension in his body easing bit by bit.

“it’s not all on you,” you say quietly, your voice breaking the quiet that’s settled over the room. “you know that, right?”

he doesn’t answer right away, and for a moment, you think maybe he’s fallen asleep. but then he shifts, turning his face into your shirt, his voice muffled but steady. “i know. i just… i can’t help feeling like it is sometimes.”

“you don’t have to carry it all, joey,” you murmur, your fingers tracing idle patterns along his arm. “that’s why you’ve got a team. that’s why you’ve got me.”

he doesn’t respond, but the way he relaxes against you says enough. and as the silence stretches on, the only sound his slow, steady breathing, you let yourself hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll let himself believe it, too.

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