#it’s probably silly and strange that i feel like delusions are more reasonable than regular dread but like. this just feels so dumb | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soleilnomoon · 2 years

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Can I request Usopp X reader >> they wake up in bed together after a night of drinking. The details I leave to your wonderful imagination. kiss kiss fall in love <3

ꕤ for u, my best friend, love of my life, light of my world, etc. etc. etc. ofc bitch, you already know ૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა ꕤ sry this took so long but yk me, i can't do fluff to save my life.

introspect ; usopp x reader.

1.8k words, afab reader (no pronouns), alcohol mention, angst-lite, a lil fluff, some nsfw (idk cute shit like a handjob or nudity or smth); usopp is too chicken to confess, but who isn't these days

the haziness of the night before never leaves you, weighing you down, stubbornly pinning you to the mattress, even as you wake up in the middle of the afternoon the following day. yawning loudly, you attempt to get up, but something really is preventing you from getting up properly; an arm, actually. a very familiar, toned, brown arm is wrapped around you securely, almost as if this is a regular occurrence between you two, when you know for a fact it is not. blinking rapidly, you try to remember the how's and the whys of last night.

as you scrunch your nose, concentration taking away your self-preservation, you hardly notice him stir beside you.

“what time is it?” he asks sleepily, sliding closer, his body seeking out your warmth even underneath the thick blanket. memories flash in your mind as you close your eyes again, swallowing hard, the taste of bourbon still on your tongue—how much did you even drink? you’re not even sure anymore. a throbbing headache reminds you to find something to remedy the pain soon. when his fingers curl around your waist, you shudder involuntarily. words stick to the back of your throat, and you struggle to breathe—his presence suddenly commanding all of your attention. you still haven’t opened your eyes; if you do, you’ll have to face him and you don’t want to deal with that just yet.

it takes you a minute, but you do finally respond to his question. “late, probably,” you say softly, voice a little hoarse—possibly from overuse, but the party wasn’t that wild, was it? when it doesn’t seem like he’s going to move away anytime soon, you finally reopen your eyes and stare at him. he looks quite peaceful, sleeping like that; his thick, curly hair tempts you, but you keep your hands to yourself. maybe it got too hot in the middle of the night and you just happened to take your clothes off and also just happened to end up in his bed.

peeking underneath the blanket only confirms your theory; it’s silly, you know that, but you don’t want to think about the ramifications of anything other than that being the absolute truth of the matter.

“you’re heavy, usopp, move.” you hope your playful demeanor might lighten things up, hope that you didn’t actually cross that line with your best friend, hope that maybe—just maybe—you had more sense than to act on whatever foolish delusions you’ve convinced yourself are somehow tied to hypothetical feelings—ones that are less platonic and more romantic. a panic settles once you’re more cognizant. because… what if someone comes in? what if they see the two of you in bed like this? what will you do then?

almost sensing your unease, he blinks himself awake, frowning a bit. it feels early, but he vaguely remembers a soft voice telling him otherwise. there’s an incessant pounding inside his head, eyes burning as he tries to swim through the fog of his hangover. “what a long dream,” he mumbles out loud, rolling onto his back, arm releasing you from its semi-oppressive hold. he stares at the ceiling, blinking slowly as he pieces together bits and pieces of said dream.

he remembers drinking with you and the others, remembers eating and laughing—strange, it was such a vivid dream, it feels real. and when he feels you shift beside him, everything rushes back to him all at once.

for some reason luffy thought it was a good idea to have everyone play a drinking game. a few games later, with tears in your eyes from laughing for several minutes, you stumble into usopp and he helps you walk. both of you tease and joke with one another, ignoring the final dregs of the party. you suggest hiding out in his room, and he agrees — closely following after you to grab snacks and something to drink. he also remembers feeling hotter than normal, sweat pooling on his temples, barely thinking as he pulls his shirt off, frowning only when he realizes that he still isn’t cooling off.

you’re busy eating a piece of fruit, the juice spilling down your hand and onto your chin; your body sways as you dance to whatever nonexistent song you think is playing at the moment. he watches, entranced with your movements—fluid, like water, and just as unpredictable. you pause, feeling his gaze—a gentle caress, one that startles you, puts you on edge, giving you a rush that feels every bit exhilarating as it does forbidden.

a coy smile tugs hopelessly on your lips.

“want some?” you offer, holding up the small bowl in your hand; sharing comes second nature to you, and besides, he looks a little thirsty.

he folds his arms against his chest, seeming to consider your request—you eat another piece of mango in the meantime and hop onto his bed. “don’t wait too long,” your tongue glides along the pad of your thumb, lapping up the residual juice, “i’ll end up eating everything by myself.” you won’t, obviously; you’ve already decided to set aside half for him, but you like messing around with him—especially since he’s giving you such a priceless expression, one that’s equal parts surprise and equal parts amusement.

simply put: you fascinate him—always have, in a way that no one else has. cowardice feeds into his guilt, giving way to shame, and lastly paranoia.

if he tells you any of that, will you see him differently?

he’s always wondered, has wanted to confess for some time now; but whenever he gets a chance, something—or, someone rather—interrupts and he loses his nerve. zoro’s tried giving him advice, but that ended disastrously; brook suggested he write a song, but he’s not lyrically inclined and is pretty tone-deaf.

it’s put him at a standstill, one that’s slowly driving him crazy, but maybe a bit of liquid courage will do the trick; at least, that’s what he told himself earlier.

so he drank and drank, and now he’s here in his room with you, contemplating like the fool he is. you can tell he’s stuck in his head, so you decide to take charge. sliding off of the bed, light on your feet, you reach him in a few quick strides.

“open up,” you command softly, and so he does—which surprises him, he’s never been one to just do things like that, but with the way you’re looking at him, it’s hard to resist. you feed him a piece of mango, his lips wrapping around the tips of your fingers, your eyelids lowering at the sight. you should pull away, but you like the way his tongue feels—smooth, a welcomed distraction to the thoughts bouncing around your head. he releases them with a soft pop! chewing thoughtfully, letting out tiny groans of approval, something that causes a flush to wrap around you

he knows there’s no reason for him to do any of that, but he can’t help it. your cheeks are on fire as you head back to the bed, finishing the rest of the bowl by yourself. you’re too ashamed, how could you look at him when that simple action turned you on more than you care to acknowledge. he’s your best friend, you will never, ever cross that line; you swore to yourself—and to him—years ago. because the one time you wanted to, he found every excuse in the world to avoid you.

rejection fuels your desire to preserve your friendship with him.

but you can only handle so much.

so when you get up and announce that you’re leaving to wash your hands, he stops you; adrenaline pumps through him, not wanting to lose this chance. his lips part slightly, the words stumbling in his mouth, refusing to come out. you raise a brow at him, confused—he’s never had an issue expressing himself with you before, so why now? letting out a short sigh, he tries again; his fingers grab your chin, a little more roughly than you’re used to, and he kisses you.

it’s a slow, tentative kiss at first; he takes his time exploring, tongue licking at your bottom lip, causing you to open your mouth for him. your tongues meeting somewhere in the middle; it’s clumsy, but soon you both fall into a rhythm, his hands tangling in your hair while yours run up his chest. something blossoms within you—awareness maybe? you’re not sure, but you’re determined to follow your desire no matter where it takes you.

his hands drift lower, cupping your ass, squeezing playfully as you press against him, a sigh on your tongue as the kiss transforms again. you become greedy, your mouth demanding as you give him feverish tongue kisses—drunk off of his cute reactions, liking the way his bulge is more than evident, your hand sliding into his shorts. your hand wraps around his length, you pump it up and down a few times, earning an audible moan from him. and when he holds you tightly, it’s almost as if he’s afraid to let you go—like he’ll never be able to hold you again.

it gets fuzzy after that; he lets out a quiet groan, realizing that it might not have been a dream at all. you brush hair away from your face and sit up, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “can i borrow a shirt?” you vaguely remember spilling something on your dress last night; you were just too drunk to deal with it and crumbled the dress in a ball, tossing it to a corner like you were playing a game. when usopp doesn’t move, you turn and lean over, face hovering over his. “hellooo, earth to usopp,” you pinch his nose and he swats at your hand in annoyance, drawing a laugh out of you.

“do you…,” he starts, brown eyes landing on yours, a solemn expression on his face, “want to talk about it?”

you bite your lip as you think it over. “not really, no.” because talking about it will just make things worse in your opinion. “do you want to talk about it?”

the question takes him by surprise, and while a part of him does want to broach the subject, he finds it easier to just ignore it altogether. you should cover up, but what’s the point; he’s already seen you partially naked on many occasions, just not like this. he says nothing and instead brings a hand to play with your hair a bit, your curls coiling around his finger. it’s nothing serious, nothing he hasn’t done before; so there’s no reason for you to brush your lips against his, no reason for you to kiss him that gently, no reason for your heart to beat wildly when he pulls you back for another.

but you do all of that and when your face burns too much for your liking, you boldly declare that you’re going to lounge around on his bed all day, hoping to diffuse whatever tension there is between you. he laughs and laughs, thinking it’s the funniest thing you’ve said all week, and when your embarrassment finally dies down, you laugh too—feeling much lighter than you have before.

#one piece imagine #one piece smut #god usopp #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #usopp x y/n #usopp x reader #fic request #usopp should be more popular this fandom is w e i r d #not a big fan of friends 2 lovers but for usopp i make an exception #usopp smut

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