#i just wanna feel light and carefree is that too much to ask

[1hyunjae]

[l4ndonorizz]

sleepless nights / lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: chase atlantic - falling

summary: unable to sleep, lando calls you in the middle of the night, seeking comfort. What starts as a late-night conversation turns into an emotional confession, as hidden feelings come to light and change everything between you

wc: 1.6k

The soft buzz of your phone on the nightstand broke the silence of your room. You blinked groggily at the screen, trying to focus as the late hour made everything seem hazy. Lando’s name lit up the display, and a small knot of concern formed in your chest.

It was nearly 2 a.m.

Swiping to answer, you held the phone to your ear, voice thick with drowsiness. “Lando? It’s really late. What’s going on?”

There was a pause, the quiet sound of his breathing filling the space between your words. “Yeah, sorry,” he replied, sounding hesitant. “Did I wake you?”

You sat up a little, pushing the sleep from your mind. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really asleep yet. What’s up? You sound… off.”

He let out a deep sigh, the weight in his voice unmistakable. “I can’t sleep.”

Your concern deepened. Lando was usually carefree, the type who always found a way to joke through anything. But this time, he sounded different—worn out. “Again?” you asked softly, knowing he’d struggled with sleepless nights recently.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quiet, almost defeated. “It’s been like this for days. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders, settling deeper into your pillows as you listened. “What’s on your mind? You wanna talk about it?”

Lando hesitated, and you could almost picture him running a hand through his messy hair, trying to find the right words. “It’s just… everything, I guess. Racing, the pressure, what’s next… I can’t shut my brain off.”

Your heart ached a little at how tired he sounded, and you wished you could be there to help ease whatever burden he was carrying. “I’m sorry, Lando. That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “I hate it. I lie there for hours, and my head just keeps spinning.”

You listened as he vented, the words pouring out now that he had someone to talk to. Lando rarely let people in like this—he preferred to keep things light, brushing off the hard stuff with a joke or a smile. But tonight, he was raw and unfiltered, and it made you realize just how much weight he carried on his shoulders.

After a few moments of silence, Lando spoke again, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “Do you think… do you think I could come over?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Come over? Now?”

“Yeah,” he replied, and you could hear the vulnerability in his voice. “I know it’s late, but I don’t want to be alone right now. I think… I think I just need to be around someone.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and without hesitation, you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Of course, Lando. You can come over.”

“Thanks,” he said softly, the relief in his voice palpable. “I’ll be there soon. Can we stay on the phone while I drive?”

You smiled at the thought of him wanting to keep talking to you, even during the short drive. “Yeah, of course.”

You heard the faint sounds of him moving around, probably grabbing his keys and pulling on a hoodie. The soft rumble of his car’s engine started in the background, and then he was back on the line with you, the quiet hum of the road accompanying his voice.

“What’s been keeping you up the most?” you asked gently, not wanting to push too hard but knowing that sometimes it helped to talk through things.

Lando sighed, the sound tired and heavy. “Honestly? I don’t know. It’s like… I’m trying to be everything at once, you know? The perfect driver, the perfect teammate, even the perfect friend. But no matter what I do, it never feels like enough.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and you wished you could reach through the phone and just hold him. “Lando… you don’t have to be perfect,” you said softly. “You’re allowed to have bad days, and you’re allowed to feel overwhelmed.”

“I know, but it’s hard,” he murmured. “I keep thinking about the future, what’s next, what I’m supposed to be doing… and I just don’t know.”

Your chest tightened with empathy as you listened to the quiet frustration in his voice. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now, Lando. You’re doing your best, and that’s all anyone can ask of you.”

There was a long pause, the sound of the road faint in the background as he processed your words. “You always know what to say,” he said finally, his voice quieter. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the warmth in his tone, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. “You’d be just fine,” you joked lightly, hoping to ease the tension, but even as you said it, you knew that wasn’t entirely true. He leaned on you in a way that felt different from how he leaned on others, and deep down, you’d always known that.

“You think?” he teased, a hint of his usual playful tone creeping back into his voice. But then, after a brief pause, he added more softly, “I don’t know. I think you’re a bigger part of my life than you realize.”

Your breath caught at the unexpected honesty in his words. There was something about the quiet of the night, the intimacy of the late hour, that made everything feel more open, more real. “I think you’re a bigger part of my life than you realize too,” you confessed quietly.

Lando didn’t respond right away, but you could hear his breathing on the other end, slow and steady, as if he were thinking carefully about what to say next. “I’m almost there,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that told you he wasn’t just talking about the drive.

A few minutes later, you heard the faint sound of his car pulling up outside. “I’m here,” he said, his voice gentle as he stepped out of the car.

You climbed out of bed, pulling your blanket around you as you padded to the door. Opening it, you found Lando standing there, his hair tousled from the drive, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. His face was soft, tired but relieved, and something in his eyes made your chest tighten.

“Hi,” you said quietly, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hi,” he replied, offering you a small smile as he stepped inside, kicking off his shoes by the door. You closed it softly behind him, the quiet of your apartment wrapping around you both like a warm blanket.

Lando stood in the middle of your living room, looking around for a moment before turning back to you, his expression soft but serious. “I’m sorry for showing up like this,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you reassured him, stepping closer until you were standing just a few feet apart. “I’m glad you came.”

He looked down at his hands, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie, and for a moment, he seemed almost unsure of what to say. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately,” he said softly. “Mostly about you.”

Your breath hitched at the confession, and you took another step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “About me?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’ve been thinking about how much you mean to me. How you’re always there for me, even when I don’t deserve it. And… how scared I am of losing you.”

The vulnerability in his words made your chest tighten, and you felt the urge to reach out and touch him, to reassure him that you weren’t going anywhere. “You won’t lose me, Lando,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing softly over your skin. “I care about you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “More than just as a friend.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and suddenly, everything felt clear. The late-night phone calls, the way you always felt so safe around him, the way your heart fluttered every time he smiled—it had all been leading to this.

“I care about you too,” you admitted, your voice soft but sure. “More than I’ve let myself realize.”

Lando’s eyes softened, and he stepped closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. “I didn’t want to mess this up,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your skin. “But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

You smiled, your heart swelling at the tenderness in his voice. “You’re not messing anything up,” you whispered back.

For a moment, you just stood there, the world falling away as Lando’s gaze locked with yours. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that felt like a promise—gentle, warm, and filled with everything that had been left unsaid.

When you finally pulled back, Lando rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I think I can finally sleep now,” he murmured with a small laugh.

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “I think I can too.”

[pprodsuga]

i’m serious about you

summary: gojo realizes just how much he likes you when you go on your first date

note: feeling a bit soft for gojo rn so pls enjoy this little scenario…it’s 2am and i just wanna write something before i go to bed <3 gojo is probably a little ooc but this is my blog so!!!

i’m a lil rusty when ur comes to writing fics but i hope u enjoy!

warnings: fluff fluff fluff + she/her pronouns

masterlist :)

“I’m surprised this place is open so late.”

You mutter absentmindedly as you look at the pastries behind the glass, face at a respectable distance while Gojo stands beside you. He leans down to see what you see, his own eye catching the chocolate cake sitting on the top shelf.

“Nanami told me about it a while ago,” he explains. “Says he likes to come here when he can’t sleep since they’re open so late.”

“Do you like this bakery?”

Gojo watches as you pick and choose which pastries you want to try. The girl behind the counter lifts her gaze to him, eyes widening before averting her gaze to the small box in her hands.

“Haven’t tried it, actually,” Gojo says. He rubs the back of his neck when you turn around. “I, uh, wanted to wait. To try it with you, I mean.”

He sees your mouth morph into a shy smile and he can’t help but return it. Gojo turns and orders a beverage from the cashier, watching as her fingers fumble with the buttons before she relays the bill.

You’re about to pull out your wallet when Gojo reacts quicker than you can comprehend. You watch as he gives his credit card to the cashier without batting an eyelash. He laughs when you huff and grumble about being able to pay for the pastries since he paid for dinner, but he bumps his hips with yours and tells you it‘s on him.

You look so perfect under the awful fluorescent lights in your best dress and hair let down. He’s not used to seeing you like this; so carefree without your worries tucked away in that pretty little head of yours.

Gojo used to think he’d make it through life without relying on anyone and that he couldn’t count on other people for his own source of happiness and companionship. But he can’t deny there’s something about you that tugs at his heart strings a bit too aggressively.

This feeling follows him to the morning prior, when he asked you to accompany him to dinner. Gojo had guessed that you liked him more than you let on but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same. This new sensation in the pit of his stomach travels with him tonight, especially when he takes a step back to fully absorb the way you look in his jacket. It dwarfs your shorter stature yet Gojo thinks it was made for you to wear.

The girl behind the counter turns around to finish the order, leaving the two of you to your wits for the time being. Gojo senses that this—casual dating or otherwise—isn’t something you do often. He silently thanks Shoko for drilling him about you (likes, dislikes, who you are as a person aside from the so-called friend group you two belong in) because he sees your finger tapping against the side of your leg and decides to make a move.

“I really like spending time with you,” Gojo starts. “I could do this again and again if you let me.”

“Really?” you ask, sounding something akin to disbelief. Your dress follows your movements as you turn around but all Gojo can focus on is the way your cheeks begin to blush. How cute.

He takes a step forward, nodding. “Believe it or not, I really enjoy spending all of my money on cute girls.”

“Is that so?“ you ask with an uptick in your voice. “Wonder if I’m the cutest, then.”

Gojo knows you’re joking by the way you’re smiling at him, but he wants to set the record straight.

“You are,” he says, “because you’re the only one.”

A soft sound distracts the two of you and he looks past your shoulder to see the cashier has set his beverage on the counter. Gojo thanks her and grabs the cup when he notices notices she’s written her phone number on the back of the surface. His stomach drops when he sees your eyes linger on the penmanship.

He panics.

“I must be special.”

Your voice lacks the humor from moments prior, eyes glazing over the written numbers while Gojo pathetically stands like he’s a frozen statue. He doesn’t know why he cares what you think of him nor why he wants to disprove the theory that he can’t settle down because of an innate need to flirt with everything that breathes. He watches you swallow and avert your gaze to the exit sign when he nods furiously.

“Yeah, you are.”

Gojo throws the beverage in the trash can beside him and cups your jaw in both of his hands to pull you into a tender kiss in the middle of a poorly lit bakery with two other patrons. He thinks your lips taste like coconut and sugar, so soft that he could keep his mouth on you forever and never complain.

He must be doing something right because you’re kissing him back.

You pull away first and he laughs at your flustered state, leaning in to press another quick kiss to your lips before you can escape him. He pays no mind to the girl who walks into the back room.

“I’ll spend however long it takes to make you understand that I’m serious about you,” Gojo promises.

“You better send Nanami a thank you card.” You grab the box of pastries. “Taking me here was a good start.”

Yeah, he thinks. She’s the one.

[pepperyduck]

dirty little secret - kento nanami

word count: 1.3k

warnings: nsfw (18+ mdni!), fashion designer nanami x model reader, kind of...bad? themes, idk how to describe it, cockwarming, female reader + descriptions of female anatomy, p in v, basically descriptions of someone "fucking their way to the top" if you will.

notes: hey! *posts this and runs away* (not tagging anyone in this cuz idk if u guys wanna see the nsfw stuff)

masterlist

the world of modeling came naturally to you.

runways were your area of expertise — watching you walk was an experience that permanently engrained itself into someone’s mind. effortlessly, you made the clothes look exceptional, no matter the cut or color — you made it all look simply glamorous. your face covered magazines across the globe, you made a ravishing appearance in every fashion week in every country.

you had your youth and your beauty and your fame; but more importantly you had him — kento nanami, world renowned fashion designer. he was known for his bold, out-of-the-box ideas, while bringing them to life in a beautiful, elegant manner. and you were his prized doll, making sure you were always front and center in all the collections he produced; you were his star.

mister nanami had taken you under his wing when you were just a random pretty face and tailored you into being one of the most sought-after girls in the fashion industry. he made sure everyone fell in love with you, just as much as he had fallen in love with you.

kento had his girls, his models and everyone that would come in and out of his brand — but you were the girl. but it all came with a price, of course, one you enthusiastically paid.

“now, i have to ask,” the reporter starts off, “rumors have made their way to the station, everyone wants to know: are you and kento nanami dating?” the reporter smiles big, a smile coated with malice as if she had you backed into a corner.

you furrow your eyebrows at the question, making her seem ridiculous for even asking such a thing. “mister nanami is my agent and the both of us just don’t feel that way towards one another. it’s insane how much these rumors get out of hand.” your reply is proper and ultimately sparing you of any more interrogation on the subject.

rumors die down after your response, something about your charm made all the fans in the fashion world believe you. but if they knew what was going on behind the closed doors of those presidential suites nanami bought for you, they’d consider it downright disgusting.

“you did so well tonight, dear,” nanami coos as he runs his fingertips up and down your thighs, “you looked just unbelievable out there. i’m so proud of you.” his eyes gaze over your figure, straddling him on the bed as he laid underneath you, body clad in a lace nightie – one he designed just for you, of course.

“thank you, kento,” you reply, goosebumps crawling under your skin at his soft touch.

he had kept such a spotless reputation in the media as the perfect businessman, allowing himself to be so intimate and carefree with you made you feel so lucky. you had risen to stardom because of him, and he was so happy to help you along the way.

you balance yourself on your palms, leaning down to give nanami a light peck on the lips, allowing yourself to become wrapped in his warmth. under the pretty little couture nightgown, nothing was separating the two of you, with kento having inserted himself inside of you multiple minutes ago, forcing your hips down on him to feel every motion you made.

hissing at the feeling when you lean down, nanami gives a light smile, so very pleased with how sensitive and tight you remained for him. he never got tired of the way you felt, always struggling to take him all the way, and the whines you made complaining how he was “too big” were always music to his ears.

“move…please…” you plead, rocking your hips the teeniest bit into kento, whimpering when his fingers stop on the flesh and hold you in place strictly.

“ah, you have an interview tomorrow, darling,” he refuses your advances, taking one of the hands that made him famous to dip down between your legs and rub your stiffened clit, “we can’t have you struggling to walk there, now, can we?”

“no…no,” you disappointedly mutter, sitting back up straight, hands still pressed against kento’s abdomen. you drop your head to look down, the area that connected you and kento hidden by pretty pattern of satin and lace of your favorite color. you could see his arm coming out from beneath the fabric, thumb slowly circling the sensitive bundle of nerves underneath, large hand out of view due to the nightgown.

kento adored the power he held over you at times like this, he loved denying your wishes, as you had gotten used to getting almost anything you wanted. secretly, he much preferred torturing you this way, forcing his most prized possession to become putty in his hands.

your slickened walls tighten around him at the ministrations of his finger, causing nanami to release a quiet groan as you bite your bottom lip to conceal any noises of your own. his tip gently kisses the deepest parts of you, feeling him effortlessly hit the sweet spot that he showed you.

nanami’s eyes watch you like a hawk, observing every little twitch and feeling every little spasm you give. your eyes flash up to his face, almost embarrassed to linger too long, seeing him with a proud stare and slightly opened jaw. when you look back away, his thumb becomes just the smallest bit faster, the new pace making you squeeze his length once again.

from the sensitivity kento caused and the pure sexiness of the man below you, you already begin to feel the little knot in your abdomen begin to swell up, you lightly buck your hips to meet his thumb.

“stop moving,” he commands, fingertips boring harsher into your hips. his grip doesn’t give up when you comply, his finger only moves faster – you don’t dare to move, no matter how many signals your body gives you to do so. you remain static, the only parts of you moving being your insides fluttering around kento’s girth while he continues to assault your clit.

nanami pulls your hips even more flush against his, only leaving space for his hand to move in cruel circles. your fingers curl into his soft blue button-up, the sensation in your core becoming tighter, inching closer and closer to the edge. it builds and builds as you stare directly where your hands are knotted into kento’s shirt, teeth sinking into your lip even harder – you’re sure you’re probably bleeding at this point.

“c-close…kento, so close – mmph,” you lightly cry, words becoming nothing more than an almost inaudible whisper, clenching the fabric in your hands tighter. nanami can detect how close you are, teetering on the edge of an orgasm that he had all the control over.

“aww,” he coos, “go on then, darling.” his thumb speeds up but a rhythm more, beckoning you to the verge of cumming, feeling you clenching impossibly tighter around him.

easily, the knot in your abdomen releases, making you squeeze your eyes shut and drop your mouth open, a string of curses leaving your pretty lips. your hips stutter against nanami, you can’t stop yourself as you ride out the orgasm he so perfectly induced. it takes you many seconds to come down, blinking away tears when you open your eyes again to look at kento.

you fall against his chest, legs still straddling him as your chest heaves from your previous state. nanami removes his hand from your core, bringing it to your hip as he coerces himself out of you. the cold air hits his arousal-coated length, but he pulls a soft blanket over the both of you, the warmth from both of your bodies getting trapped under the covers. he continues to pet your hair softly, pushing you to exhaustedly doze off.

 oh, how he hates that he has to keep this dirty little secret away from the world.

[meracyn]

◞♡ ⃗ charmed !

synopsis everyone knows kokichi is a merciless troublemaker, but how would he be like as a boyfriend? the same, different? or maybe he's both. warnings crack (no not drugs..), cursing

little shit

first of all how did you make kokichi to fall for you? ask you out?? teach me /hj

okok but dating kokichi is fun. but also a little too much. but fun, obviously ; if you’re a prankster and carefree as he is, you two are basically soulmates – putting both your brains to work as you think of all the pranks you can pull on your classmates

kokichi is the type of guy to probably be like really cringe over text to spamming or just being all dramatic, like “s/o can you h-h-help m-me pls 🥺🥺🥺” or “y/n y/n y/n y/n Y/N ANSWER IM DTING HELK” to “hi............”

heavy on the dots

plays around too much man, you would probably be upset over something and kokichi comes over with his shit; most of the time his jokes and pranks can make you laugh but not always of course, that’s where he lacks in

kokichi isn’t all about being heartfelt or indulging too much in feelings so he prefers to just laugh it off and forget about it instead, but will calm down a bit and stay quiet for a while if the issue is really serious

eventually asks to play a game or do something to distract you both

if you’re still upset he’ll most likely just go off to get a snack or tickle it out of you

yes. lots of tickle and pillow fights between you both, kokichi is competitive and even though you’re his lover he won’t have mercy on you

he’s ruined your pillows too 😭 mf will have a whole plan before it happens; goes to your dorm and grabs one of your pillows, takes it out of its pillowcase and slightly cuts it open to slip fake spiders inside, then puts the pillowcase back on and leaves everything ‘untouched’

later that day he would go to your dorm as usual and plop down on your bed and talk about whatever shit prank he pulled on taka that had the guy screaming on the hallway

randomly says “hey y/n wanna do a pillow fight, whoever loses has to buy the other 10 bags of chips”

“kokichi wtf...i accept” you agreed 😰

grabs the pillow from earlier and holds it carefully to not let the spiders come out yet, after smacking you twice he lets go and you scream at the sight

after like 5 seconds you realize what he did but its too late

the little shit grabbed the pillow you had and whacked you on the face, knocking you down on the bed

“I WON, VICTORY IS MINE” and does that maniac laugh of his

light yagami 2.0 ahh wannabe

you had to waste your precious bucks to get that purple stick his chips

you will get your revenge one day ik you will...

honestly idk what nicknames he would give you but probably does those cringy ones lmao

lies a lot and you know it, but he sincerely means it when he says he loves you, although it isn’t often...most likely during a special moment, maybe on a one year anniversary would he whisper an “i love you” at night, before you fall asleep

says it with such sincerity and genuine tone

introduces you to d.i.c.e, and that’s when you know he’s taken your relationship seriously, you got to meet his family, and they all thank you for being by their leaders’ side

kokichi may (is) be tiring to handle, especially with his mischievous persona and cocky behavior but he does love you, and is grateful you won’t abandon him (although he’ll never say it out loud, too prideful to let himself say something so vulnerable)

little shit

[arixella]

A Day Under the Sun

╰┈➤ pairing: Luffy x reader

a/n: none

summary: On a perfect, sunny day aboard the Going Merry, you sit beside Luffy, enjoying the peaceful moment and his infectious enthusiasm, realizing that sometimes the simplest moments with him are the most memorable adventures of all.

wc: 500

contains: fluff

The sun is warm on my skin, and the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the Going Merry fills the air. It’s a perfect day. Not a cloud in the sky, a gentle breeze rustling through the sails, and the crew is scattered about the deck, doing their usual thing. But I’m not paying much attention to them. My eyes are focused on one person, and that person is sitting on the edge of the ship, legs dangling off the side, gazing out at the horizon with that wide, carefree grin of his.

Luffy.

I can’t help but smile to myself. He’s always like this, always full of energy, always finding joy in the simplest things. Even on a lazy day like today, he manages to make everything feel like an adventure.

“Hey, Y/N!” Luffy’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I look up to see him waving me over, his smile growing even wider. I can tell he’s been waiting for me to come join him.

Without hesitating, I walk over and sit next to him, letting my legs swing over the edge of the ship too. The breeze feels good against my face, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of just being here with him.

“Whatcha doing?” I ask, glancing over at him.

“Nothing!” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Just looking at the ocean. It’s so big, Y/N. I wanna see all of it someday, all the way to the end of the Grand Line!” His eyes light up at the thought, and I can’t help but laugh.

“You’re always thinking about adventure, huh?”

“Of course!” he says, puffing out his chest with that proud, goofy expression. “That’s what pirates do! We go on adventures!”

I chuckle, nudging his shoulder lightly. “And what about right now? Don’t you want to enjoy the moment, too?”

Luffy tilts his head as if the idea of enjoying the moment is a bit foreign to him, but then he flashes that big, bright grin and shrugs. “Sure, why not? The moment is fun too! But it’d be better if I had meat,” he adds, looking around like he’s hoping a giant roast chicken will magically appear.

“You’re always thinking about food too.”

“Yep!” Luffy laughs, unfazed, and then his grin softens a little, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “But being here with you is good too.”

I blink, a little surprised by his words. For a second, he’s not the goofy, always-hungry pirate captain. He’s just Luffy, sitting beside me, and the warmth in his gaze makes my heart do this strange little flip. I try not to let it show too much, but I can feel my face turning a little pink.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” I say, my voice quiet.

Luffy doesn’t seem to notice the sudden change in my mood. He’s already back to grinning, jumping to his feet, and striking a dramatic pose. “So! Let’s go have a competition to see who can eat the most meat at dinner tonight! I’m gonna win!”

I laugh, shaking my head at his boundless energy. “You’re on. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you’re the one who’s stuffed.”

He sticks his tongue out at me, then grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet. “C’mon! We’ve got a lot of meat to eat, and I’m not gonna let you beat me!”

I let him drag me across the deck, laughing all the way. Even if I didn’t know it at first, I realize now: being here with Luffy, in this moment, is an adventure in its own right.

♡♡♡

© 2024 arixella | please do not plagiarize or translate any of my work without my consent.

[rosemariiaa]

~Les~

˖˙ ᰋ ── pairing- Paige x Azzi

˖˙ ᰋ ── rosie’s note: not too long , i have another fic in the works coming either tonight or tomorrow <33

˖˙ ᰋ ── request: based on the song “Les”- Childish Gambino

˖˙ ᰋ ── theme: fluff fluff fluff

enjoy!!!

It was one of those summer nights in New York, where the air was thick with humidity and the streets buzzed with life. The Lower East Side was alive, people spilling out of bars and clubs, laughter and music mixing together in a chaotic symphony. Paige and Azzi were in the middle of it, hand in hand, weaving through the crowds like they owned the place.

Paige had convinced Azzi to come out with her, promising a night of fun and forgetting the stresses of school and basketball. Azzi was hesitant at first, nights out weren’t really her thing, she was more interested in eating ice cream and watching frozen, not being outside in a city that never seemed to sleep. But there was something about the way Paige had looked at her, with that mischievous glint in her eye, that made her say yes.

Now, hours later, Azzi was glad she had. The night had been perfect so far—good drinks, good music, and most of all, good company. Paige had a way of making everything feel like an adventure, and tonight was no different.

They found themselves outside a dimly lit bar, the neon sign flickering above them. Paige stopped, turning to face Azzi, her smile wide and carefree. “Wanna go in?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

Azzi nodded, her own smile matching Paige’s. “Well i guess so, lead the way.”

Inside, the bar was loud, the bass from the music vibrating through the walls. They made their way to a booth in the back, away from the main crowd but still close enough to feel the energy. Paige ordered them both drinks, her usual shirley obviously and azzi the same, something sweet and strong, and they settled into their seats, the dim light casting shadows across their faces.

Paige leaned back, her eyes on Azzi, taking in the way the city lights made her skin glow and the way her upper body looked in her cropped black cowl top. “You havin’ fun?” she asked, her voice low, almost drowned out by the music.

Azzi looked at her, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Yeah. I am.”

Paige grinned, a little proud of herself. She always loved seeing Azzi let loose, even if it was just a little. There was something about Azzi’s calm, composed nature that made moments like these feel special. “Good,” Paige said, leaning in a bit closer. “Told you this would be fun.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding the affection in them. “Yeah yeah sure, i guess i could say you were right. I guess you know me better than I thought.”

Paige’s grin widened, and she reached out, her fingers brushing against Azzi’s. “I know you better than anyone, Az.”

There was a moment of silence between them, the noise of the bar fading into the background. Azzi felt her heart skip a beat, her breath catching in her throat. Paige’s hand was warm against hers, and suddenly, the air between them felt charged, like something was about to happen.

Paige moved closer, her thumb gently stroking the back of Azzi’s hand. “You know, you’re kinda amazing,” she said, her voice soft, almost tender. “I know I say it a lot but I still don’t think I tell you that enough.”

Azzi felt her cheeks heat up, but she didn’t pull away. “Paige…”

Paige shook her head, her smile turning a bit softer, more genuine. “No, I mean it. You’re always there for me, always got my back. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Azzi’s heart swelled, and she squeezed Paige’s hand. “You don’t have to say all that…”

“But I want to,” Paige interrupted, her gaze locking onto Azzi’s. “I want you to know how much you mean to me. How much I… care about you.”

Azzi’s breath hitched, and for a moment, she forgot how to speak. The way Paige was looking at her, like she was the only person in the room, made her feel like she was floating. “Paige, I—”

Before she could finish, Paige leaned in, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a soft, slow kiss, one that felt like it had been waiting to happen for years. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t hurried—it was just them, finally giving in to the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

When they finally pulled back, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other’s. Paige’s smile was small but full of happiness, and she whispered, “Let’s get outta here. Just you and me.”

Azzi nodded, unable to do anything but agree. Paige led her out of the bar, back into the warm night, where the city lights seemed a little brighter, the air a little lighter. Hand in hand, they walked through the streets, the world around them fading into the background.

As they walked, Paige started humming along to a song she’d heard earlier in the night. Azzi recognized it immediately—*LES.* by Childish Gambino, one of Paige’s favorites. Paige looked over at Azzi, her eyes gleaming with that familiar playful mischief.

“You know,” Paige said, a smirk tugging at her lips, “we could be the best.”

Azzi chuckled, her heart fluttering at the way Paige’s voice dropped an octave. She nudged Paige playfully, the warmth between them growing with every step. “Yeah? Think so?”

Paige stopped walking, turning to face Azzi fully. She reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind Azzi’s ear, her touch lingering. “Yeah,” she said softly, her gaze never leaving Azzi’s. “I know so.”

Azzi’s breath caught in her throat, the world around them disappearing as she looked into Paige’s eyes. The city, the noise, the people—it all faded away, leaving just the two of them standing under the streetlights, the night stretching out before them like a promise.

They didn’t need to say anything else. The way Paige looked at her, the way their hands fit together so perfectly, was enough. They walked on, the night ahead of them full of endless possibilities, the future brighter than the city lights around them.

And in that moment, as they disappeared into the heart of the city, they both knew one thing for sure—together, they really could be the best.

[plussizeficchick]

Lovers Rock | Eddie Munson x Chubby! Reader

Summary: Eddie really likes reader, reader really likes Eddie, will they, won’t they? Loosely based on the TV Girl song, brief misunderstandings, brief mentions of masturbation, suggestive undertones. (Had this in the drafts for a while.)

Eddie had never felt more jealous of Steve than he did right now.

He had you, a cute, chunky little bunny practically hanging off of his arm and couldn’t be asked to give you a shred of attention?

Not that you seem particularly bothered, you’re too busy looking around. For what, he doesn’t know, but you somehow make just standing there sexy.

Eddie had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. He’s always had a thing for plump girls and you ticked all his boxes. You liked DnD, you didn’t judge his music taste even if some weren’t your favorite. And you were hot as fuck.

He remembers the first time he jacked off to the thought of you. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week, and it didn’t help that for the past few months, you seemed to have put more of an effort in your appearance. (i.e. Eddie’s never seen you show so much skin and he’s fighting the urge to paint every inch in his cum.)

Nevertheless, he makes his way over to you both and he feels his heart skip when your eyes light up at the sight of him. “Hey, Munson.” You beam at him, and just like that, you made coming to this shitty party worthwhile. He smirks at you before pulling you into a hug, lips kissing your ear as he whispers, “Good to see you again, princess.” You feel a shiver run down your spine, his words making their way to your core. You’d had a few drinks and shared a joint with Steve on your way here so you were feeling nice and loose.

You shift your grip from Steve’s arm to Eddie’s, effectively trapping him in your ironclad grip. “Wanna get outta here, this shit sucks.” You mutter into his ear. “What about Steve?” You shrug off his concerns, eager to spend time alone with him. “We got a ride here, plus he said he might stay tonight.” Eddie nods in understanding before guiding you both out of the party. You make it to his van and after a few tries, you’re both out of there.

— —

Eddie put on his and your favorite mix, you both screaming lyrics at the top of your lungs. After a while, Eddie stops and just stares at you though, taking you in. It’s rare he gets to see you so carefree and the sight just makes him fall in love with you all the more.

Why did you have to be into Steve?

He’d never burden you with his feelings, but fuck there were some times it became too much to bear. Times he wanted to just say “fuck it” and tell you how he felt, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair to you, and that he’d rather suffer in silence than never have you at all.

You were stuck though.

Steve swore up and down that Eddie was into you and honestly, you thought so too. It was why you had put so much more effort into your appearance. Wearing shorter skirts, lower cut tops. Jeans that hugged the curve of your ass, blouses that showed the cute pudge of your tummy. You thought you were being flirty, always asking to listen to his music, touching his arm at any given chance, you were honestly doing your best here. You figured that this would be your best opportunity to just be upfront with him. So when you pulled into his uncle’s trailer park, you decided to lay it all out.

“Eddie, do you like me?” He looks at you confused as he turns off the engine. “What kind of question is that? Of course I like you. You’re one of my closest friends.” He looks at you with sincerity. You’d think it was sweet if that was what you wanted to hear. “Why are you asking that?” Eddie questions. You shake your head, turning in your seat to face him. “It’s just, I like you a lot Eddie and Steve said you might have a crush on me? I don’t know, maybe he was mistaken-” You’re cut off by Eddie abruptly grabbing your hands, his face almost surprised. “I did- I do! I just, I thought you were into Steve so…” He trails off at the sound of your chuckling. He feels his stomach drop at the sound and is about to pull away when he feels you holding on to him.

“Sorry,” You giggle, wiping a fake tear from your eye at the thought. “It’s just, what ever gave you that idea?” You ask. He looks sheepish as he relays his reasoning, “Well I noticed you kind of started dressing up more recently and you hang around us a lot more often than before. So I just thought…” He trails off again. You feel a snicker but hold back as you hear Eddie sigh in frustration. “Sorry for laughing, it’s just, I thought I was being super obvious with my feelings for you, but now I see it was having the opposite effect.” You sigh. Eddie looks at you, confusion written all over his face. “I was doing all of that for you. I was hoping that it’d push you to ask me out, but instead it just made you think I want… Steve.” You shudder in disgust. It coaxes a laugh out of Eddie and you’re sure you’d do anything to keep that smile on his face.

“So you’re saying, you’re into me?” He asks for clarification. You nod, a sweet smile making its way to your chubby cheeks. “And you’re into me?” You mimic. He nods before cupping your face with both hands. He looks you in the eyes, a silent question and you answer by leaning in, pressing your plump lips against his. It’s a sweet, clumsy first kiss, lips molding into each other. You feel the coldness of his rings against your warm cheeks and it somehow makes the kiss feel even better.

You part after the need for air becomes necessary, resting your foreheads against each other. “Thank God we sorted that out. I thought I’d have to walk around in nothing but a Hellfire club shirt before you’d say anything.” You chuckle at the thought. But Eddie starts to picture it and he’s not laughing.

“Hey, um, d’ya think I could see that right now?”

[headkiss]

hellooo for the summer asks I was wondering about our boy Eddie and going to the beach with him and feeling insecure about our body, but ofc he’s a sweetie so he makes us feel better 🥹 just some hurt/comfort my love 🫶

thank u so so much for ur request baby!!! ily i hope this is okay <3 | 0.8k of fluff, tw for problems with body image

The sun beams harshly on your shoulders from your spot on the sand, a towel serving as the only cushion beneath you, eyes squinted behind your sunglasses.

In a rare instance, the group’s schedules have all lined up and given you the same day off, and immediately, that meant packing up Eddie’s van full to the brim with coolers and towels and more people than seats and driving to the beach.

The drive had been a blast, Steve and Eddie arguing steadily over what music to play, Robin egging them on even though she’d dance along to anything. Eddie’s hand had been a comforting weight on your thigh the entire ride.

Now, hours of sun and swims later, hair messy from the wind and water, cooler much emptier than it had been earlier, you’re watching the gang play volleyball (you say this loosely, because there’s no net nor is there an established court).

It’s fun, to be a part of a group of friends this way, to watch such an uncoordinated game where everyone is smiling and having fun despite there being competition involved.

You’re having fun, too, laughing every time Eddie trips or winks at you and says “this one’s for you” before hitting the ball in a random direction. Then, there’s the way Steve calls “mine!” every time the ball comes anywhere near his side of the ‘court,’ even when Robin was even closer, prompting them to start bickering.

So really, it should be all light and easy. A relaxing day at the beach with your favorite people. And it is, until it isn’t.

One second, you’d been smiling at the game, shifting your sunglasses off of your eyes and using them as some sort of headband instead. The next, your eyes were wandering around the beach and noticing everyone else.

Noticing the way the other people around looked. Girls brilliantly tanned in their triangle bikinis, denim shorts fitting them perfectly. Or the guys in their swim trunks and how carefree they look.

You can’t help but see everything they are that you aren’t. Or, that you don’t believe you are.

Things like this creep up on you in funny ways. Like a chill that just passes through, sudden and unavoidable. A simple thought snowballing into a hundred small ones shaped like arrows aiming towards yourself.

You shift to cross your arms over the soft of your exposed stomach, suddenly wishing you’d brought more than a tank top to cover up with.

Eddie snaps you out of your thoughts with a call of “you sure you don’t wanna join, sweetheart?”

You muster a halfhearted smile as you shake your head. “I’m okay.”

The two words are enough to tell Eddie that you aren’t exactly okay at the moment. Your smile not reaching your eyes the way it should, that line between your eyebrows worried the way it shouldn’t.

When you aren’t looking, he signals Argyle over to take his spot in the game and jogs over to you, sitting down next to you and nudging your shoulder with his. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Eds. You didn’t have to stop playing,” you say, though you can't deny that the warmth of his arm brushing yours feels nice.

“Hey, look at me,” he urges you gently, his knuckles catching your chin to nudge your face up to his. “It’s just me. You can say it.”

“It’s silly,” you shrug. Eddie pins you with a look that says ‘try me,’ and because he’s the sweet boyfriend he is and because you trust him and love him, you do. “I just- I looked around and just noticed all these people and the way they look and I’m not-”

“Sweetheart,” he stops you, his voice painfully soft. His brown eyes even more so, shining in the late afternoon sun. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m not just sayin’ that. I mean, you’ve seen the boners you give me, so…”

“Eddie,” you scrunch your nose and slap his chest lightly, though you’re fighting back a smile.

“I’m serious. Look at me compared to these people, babe. I look different, too. I’m not ripped or anything, and I’m pale as fuck. Like, ghost-level.”

You look at him, the frizzy curls framing his face and the curve of his cupid’s bow, to the tattoos dotting his skin and how his abs are just barely visible beneath the soft of his tummy. The way his cheeks and chest are a little pink from the sun. He’s perfect to you. For you.

“I think you’re pretty, Eds.”

“Well I think you’re fucking pretty, too, sweetheart. That’s my point,” his arm slings itself around your shoulders, tugging you into his side, uncaring of the heat or whether or not you’re sweaty. “Different doesn’t mean bad. It just means different. And I love you and your different, okay?”

You like the way he says it, like it’s a fact, like he’s never once thought otherwise. You like the way he trails his fingertips up and down your arm, too, like it’s an instinct.

And, well, when he dips down to kiss you all sweet and slow and sure, you think it’s the prettiest you’ve ever felt.

[xcherryerim]

Strange Fascination

Part two: The Shadow Under the Bed

part one

Stalker Mike x gn!reader

“And your dreams, Won't you say that in there I'm yours and keep you safe? Say you're mine. I'll always be there.” — Monster Under the Bed by Emily Mei

Warning: obsession/ stalking | mentions of over-usage (with sleeping pills but yk) | Breaking in readers house | masturbation | light toy usage | under the influence sex | penetration | unprotected sex | Mike praising reader and being a possessive fuck | soft!dom Mike | stealing readers underwear | No specific readers genitalia

Notes: I would recommend reading the first part, as it explains Mike’s obsession and stalking behavior, but in summary, After not seeing you to pick up your brother he panics and goes around the area where you live to see the reason of your absence. At night, he decides to break into your place.

Also idk if it’s obvious but Mike is too high and sleepy that he thinks he’s having a sex/wet dream but he isn’t. If you wanna skip to the smut part look for the “❥”

"Not feeling like going to school today, bud?" You asked gently, settling onto Gregory's bed. Placing your hand on his forehead, you winced at the heat radiating from his skin. Sickness was a rarity in your family, making it all the more frightening when it struck.

He shook his head weakly, a small cough escaping him. His pale face was marred with beads of sweat, his eyes brimming with pain, looking like a Victorian man on his deathbed.

…

Despite your brother's reluctance to eat, you managed to coax him into trying a few bites of his favorite meal - mac and cheese. The comforting aroma filled the room, mingling with the laughter from the TV as you played his favorite show, South Park.

You chose the most lighthearted episodes, hoping to distract him from his discomfort. The colorful animation flickered across the screen, punctuated by the show's signature humor. It wasn't much, but it was something.

"Can we get pizza later?" Gregory pleaded, those puppy dog eyes working their magic. You rolled your eyes. Sometimes, it was impossible not to cave in.

"You're pushing it," you responded, but even as you spoke, you knew you were losing the battle. His eyes held a pleading look, a silent promise that maybe, just maybe, he would start feeling better soon.

"Please," he begged, and there it was - that hint of vulnerability that got you every time. You exhale, relenting.

"Fine, for dinner, we can get pizza."

Gregory's face broke into a grin, the first genuine smile you'd seen today. Relief washed over you, knowing that you'd made him happy, even in this small way.

As you sat next to your brother, watching him slowly pick at his food, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. You remembered how it felt to be sick, how even the simplest tasks seemed impossible. But you also remembered how comforting it was to have someone there for you, offering support and understanding.

So, you continued to sit with him, occasionally laughing at the absurdity unfolding on the screen. And as the hours passed, you hoped that your presence, along with the familiarity of his favorite things, would help him feel just a little bit better.

….

After tucking Gregory in, you wished him a good night, feeling a sense of happiness wash over you.

❥ Despite everything, tonight had been a relatively normal evening. Yet, as you settled into bed, your exhaustion refused to cooperate. Sleep evaded you, a cruel tease dancing just beyond reach.

Frustrated, you stood up, making your way to the medicine cabinet. Melatonin pills, their potential untapped. With a sigh, you popped a few, waiting impatiently for the promised drowsiness, To no avail.

Instead, you found yourself pouring a generous portion of liquid sleeping aid down your throat, mimicking the carefree college days of the past.

“This is ridiculous,” you thought, tossing and turning under your covers.

However, the combination of pills and syrup began to take effect, lulling you into slumber. But as the night wore on, you found yourself awake once more. Tired of fighting, you clicked on the lamp beside your bed, casting a warm glow across the room.

Walking to the window, you gazed upon the waning crescent moon hanging low in the sky. Something was comforting about its steady presence, a constant among the chaos of life. A yawn escaped you, and with it, a realization. Perhaps your sleeplessness stemmed from worry. Worrying about Gregory, about the future, about everything in between.

With a deep breath, you decided to address the root of your restlessness. Stepping out of your room, you headed towards the kitchen, determined to make yourself a calming cup of tea.

Once you returned, clutching the steaming cup of tea, you paused near the window. In your haste, the cup tilted slightly, spilling hot liquid onto your leg. A sharp yelp, almost a full-on scream escaped your lips, but you stifled it immediately, not wanting to disturb Gregory.

At the sudden scream, Mike’s panic gnawed at his insides, threatening to consume him whole. He had pushed his luck too far, he thought. Invading personal space without consideration. Now, he waited, trembling and exposed, anticipating the inevitable confrontation.

Hot tendrils of pain radiated from the spot, but you forced yourself to focus on your breath. Slow, deep inhales and exhales carried you through the discomfort, easing the sting. Soon enough, the heat subsided, leaving behind a dull ache.

When you achieved a semblance of peace, you pulled out your sage green journal. Flipping to a blank page. Chronicles of your day poured onto the paper, each sentence capturing the highs and lows of your day. It was therapeutic, a way to process the chaos of life.

And then, there it was - mention of Mike. Your words were casual, almost carefree. “I didn't get to see Mike today though, hopefully, I can tomorrow.” You mumbled just two sentences, but they carried weight. You remembered his name, and you wanted to see him again.

Underneath the bed, Mike's body stiffened. How had you retained his name after such brief encounters? The thought filled him with equal parts pride and embarrassment. You, who knew him so little, desired more interaction. This revelation shook him to his core, Was he just a stranger in your eyes, or did you hold a place for him in your heart?

"Mike, Mike, Mike." Your voice was soft, laced with a mix of exhaustion and longing. As you reached for the nightstand, your hands quivered with anticipation. Mike watched from his hiding place, his heart pounding in his chest.

The moment you pulled out your toy, his eyes widened in shock. This was not what he had expected but, as you began to use it, your body writhing with delight, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction.

The combination of drowsiness from the pills and syrup, along with the physical release, created a heady mixture of sensations. You moaned softly, your voice ringing through the room. Each sound was like a siren's call, drawing him closer to the edge of his sanity.

His adrenaline surged, his body tense with anticipation. As you repeated his name, his heart swelled with an emotion he couldn't quite name. It was a strange mix of pride, longing, and something else entirely - something dangerous.

He felt himself leaking precum, the mere sound of your voice driving him to the brink. Disbelief washed over him; you were thinking of him during your moments of intimacy. He was grateful - no, relieved - that he wasn't alone in this longing.

Without another thought, Mike unzipped his pants, lowering both trousers and boxers just enough to free his aching erection. Semi-naked to the cool night air, his need pulsed with every beat of his heart. Every whimper you uttered drew him closer, matching the rhythm with feverish intensity.

As if entranced, he stroked himself with fervor, mirroring your satisfaction. The air was thick with appetite, heavy with the scent of forbidden lust and connection. Your cries grew louder, almost like you were urging him on, and he responded in kind, matching your pace with increasing fervor.

The boundary between fantasy and reality danced a tantalizing waltz within him, as though the sleeping pills had crafted a mesmerizing dreamscape. His frenzied strokes built the tension to a fever pitch, and as his name echoed through the night, Mike emerged from his hiding spot. A predatory grin graced his lips, and ragged gasps betrayed the satisfaction coursing through him.

"Mike?!" you stammered, your eyes locked onto the object of your fantasies. The man standing before you proudly displayed his erection, taunting yet gratifying.

"My sweet, sweet angel," he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he closed the distance between you. "I knew you wanted me."

His fingertips danced delicately across your features, like an artist carefully sculpting his next piece. "You've been thinking of me, haven't you?" The question hung in the air, a declaration that shattered the façade of secrecy. No longer was he a stranger observing you; instead, you were two souls entangled in a passionate embrace.

"I've waited so long for this moment," Mike confessed, his breath warm against your skin. "To have you all to myself... to hear you call my name like that." Hunger glinted in his eyes, a testament to his craving.

With a sudden, possessive hold, Mike clutched your chin, demanding eye contact. "But now that I have it... I'll never let you go." His words carried a weighted promise, a tether connecting you both in a web of his obsession and yearning.

“Mike what are you—“ you began, but before you could utter another word, Mike silenced you with a gentle kiss, his lips firm yet tender. His tongue slipped past your parted lips, igniting a firestorm of sensations within you.

"Shh," he whispered, breaking away from the kiss just enough to speak. "No more questions. Tonight, we belong to each other, and nothing else matters."

His skilled hands traced every curve and contour of your body, exploring with a purposeful tenderness that left you breathless. "Tell me... do you know how long I've dreamed of this?" he asked, "To have you, all to myself, like this..."

Mike claimed his position above you, his throbbing length pressing insistently against your outer thigh. The mere touch sent ripples of desire coursing through him, and he started to slightly hump.

"You've consumed my every waking thought," Mike’s breath hitched, the weight of his obsession finally surfacing. As months of longing and secrecy culminated in this single moment, Mike's need became palpable. His breath hitched with each ragged exhale, proof of his pent-up desperation.

“I've waited for this, dreamt of this," he added, his voice low and husky.

For a moment, the outside world ceased to exist. You and Mike were entwined in a dance of eagerness and confusion, lost in the euphoria of the moment. The distinction between reality and fantasy didn't matter; it was irrelevant in the face of your connection.

Fixating on the silhouette of your body, he noticed your hand wrapped around the toy. Acting on instinct, Mike adjusted the device gently, synchronizing its rhythm with yours. His arousal surged at the sight, causing a low, guttural groan to escape him.

"You look so good like this, darling," Mike whispered, his warm breath dancing across your skin. "I've wanted this for so long... to touch you, to be with you..."

With delicate precision, Mike brushed your most sensitive spot with his thumb, earning a sharp gasp from you. "I know you feel it too..." he whispered, his words laced with raw truth.

The coolness from his hand traced up your thigh, causing your body to shiver involuntarily.

"Let me pleasure you, the way you deserve," Mike whispered, his fingers moving with slow, calculated strokes. He increased the pressure, his thumb tracing the throbbing between your legs. Drawing closer still, he left a trail of scorching kisses along your jawline, nipping gently at the delicate skin of your neck. His other hand explored your curves, mapping them with meticulous care.

"You're perfect... I want to worship every inch of you," he murmured, his breath hitching as your responses to his touch grew more pronounced.

"Tell me what you need," he urged, his gaze locked firmly on yours. "I'll give you anything you want, just say the word."

"Fuck me, please," you whined, the vibrating toy making it difficult to talk.

Mike's eyes flashed with raw hunger at your impassioned plea. Leaning in, his warm breath hit your skin, and a low, rumbling growl escaped his chest. "As you wish."

In a deliberate movement, he removed the toy from your trembling body. "I'll give you everything you crave."

With a grace born of fervor, Mike positioned himself between your quivering thighs. He gently lifted your legs, granting access to your awaiting entrance. The head of his cock pressed insistently against you, demanding entry.

Savoring the exquisite tension, Mike paused for a fleeting moment before burying himself deeply into you. A rough groan escaped him. The sensation was indescribable – a potent mix of pain and pleasure that stole your breath. His pace was both fierce and controlled, striking a delicate balance between his untamed passion and your comfort.

"I'm going to make you scream my name," he warned. A promise hung heavy in the air, fueling the flames of passion between you both.

Gripping your hips, his fingers bit into your skin as his pace quickened. In a display of brutal possession, he claimed your lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing your cries of ecstasy.

"You're mine," he proclaimed, the words laden with ownership. His eyes bore into yours, leaving no doubt about his claim.

you clutched his shirt desperately, searching for something solid amidst the tempest of sensations. "All yours," you whimpered, your body responding to his rhythm, yearning for more.

"All mine..." Mike answered possessively, digging his fingertips into your hips.

Driven by your need and his unquenchable thirst, he sinks into you with unbridled intensity. The sensation was a revelation - an exquisite fit, an intimate conquest. Your bodies merged, creating a symphony of gratification.

"You feel so good around me like you were fucking made just for me," Short of breath, his hips snapping forward in relentless pursuit of bliss. Each stroke brought him closer to the pinnacle, fueled by your mutual hunger.

"Oh god..." you cried out, clutching at him even tighter as the pleasure built within you.

Panting heavily, Mike's voice transformed into a guttural growl as he neared the precipice. "I'm going to fill you up, mark you as mine," he promised menacingly. Bending his head, he grazed your neck with his teeth in a primal claim of possession.

His grip on your hips tightened further, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrust deeper inside you. "Take all of me, baby. Let me claim every part of you," he commanded, his eyes locked onto yours.

With each powerful thrust, both edging closer to orgasm, the tension coiling ever tighter. It was as though no other concerns existed – no consequences, no worries, only the two of them, entangled in a web of unrelenting carnal nature.

You cried, your nails raking down his back, clawing at his slick skin for stability. Your bodies moved as one, driven by an irresistible force that defied logic and reason. The scent of vigor filled the air, mingling with the sound of their labored breaths.

As the final moments stretched out before them, Mike's drive grew frantic, his eyes locked on yours in a hypnotic dance. Your cries grew louder, each one a plea for release, for the sweet relief that lay just beyond reach. And then, with a sudden jolt, you peaked, your body convulsing around him, a triumphant cry escaping your lips.

Mike's eyes widened as he felt your body twitch, his name echoing through the room. Unable to resist any longer, he followed suit, burying himself deep within you as he found his release. His world narrowed to the feel of you surrounding him, the sweet embrace of your warmth.

Yet, his need for you remained insatiable. Collapsing on top of you, he embraced you possessively, your bodies sliding against each other, chasing every tremor of your shared climax.

His movements were ragged and sloppy. "Mine... you're mine!" he whined and groaned your name against your lips, capturing you in a deep, fiery kiss. Overstimulation faded into the background, swallowed by the heady rush of their union.

This was a dream, wasn't it? A dream world where you belonged to him and him alone.

Huffing and puffing, Mike whispered, "I love you," his voice laced with genuine emotion. Nuzzling against your neck, he claimed your lips once more in a searing kiss, his words a confession born of obsession and desire. All those hours spent observing you, planning this moment... they were finally rewarded.

His heart beat wildly against your chest, matching the rhythm of yours. You both lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, lost in the afterglow of devoting love and possession.

…..

Mike woke up to the warm glow of sunlight filtering through an unfamiliar window. Confusion furrowed his brow as he shifted his body to the side, revealing your sleeping form next to him.

Panic welled up inside him, his mind racing to piece together the fragments of last night. Had everything that transpired between you truly happened, or was it all a dream fueled by his overuse of sleeping pills? Deciding there was no time to waste, He carefully extracted himself from the bed, moving with the silence of a thief. Gathering his belongings, he paused to steal one last, longing glance at your peaceful face.

In a sudden burst of impulse, he approached your dresser, quietly opening a drawer and snatching a pair of your underwear. A gleam lit his eyes as he slipped them into his pocket. Then, without another word, he climbed out the window and melted into the morning shadows.

As he disappeared from view, doubt lingered in the air. Was it real or merely a product of his overactive imagination? Regardless, the daylight served as a harsh reminder of the risk he had taken, the line he had crossed.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of the window closing. A coy smile spread across your lips as you watched Mike's retreating form, amusement twinkling in your eyes.

"So predictable, my dear Mike..." you murmured to yourself.

You knew full well that he was oblivious to the security camera discreetly positioned just outside. The unlocked window - an open invitation he simply couldn't resist - had been your doing. And, as expected, he had fallen right into your trap.

Shifting onto your side, you let your fingers trail across the rumpled sheets, still warm from his embrace. A contented sigh escaped you as you nestled back into the pillows. You reveled in the knowledge that Mike was utterly ensnared in your web. And with a devious glint in your eye, you vowed to keep him there, anticipating your next encounter with eager delight.

After all, you had no intention of letting him go.

Thank you so much for reading! should I make a part 3?

Originally it was going to be two parts but if you guys liked it I can make another part (mainly smut). If you have any questions don’t be afraid to ask them since i know the story might be confusing.

If you guys like the story and want to be added to the possible part 3 let me know so I can add you to my taglist!

taglist 🍒: @lile6969 @fatinhadesiners06 @jhutchismyl0verb0y @lefteagleblizzard @freak-accident419 @joshhutchersonsgf @valreanakuroo @jhutch-bf @cassiecasluciluce

[moonstrider9904]

do i wanna know?

one shot masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3 | beta read by the wonderful @jedi-hawkins and @freesia-writes

Pairing: Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Summary: You've been seeing Crosshair for months when he's on planet, seemingly only as friends. But one night when he's back, you meet him at your favorite bar, and you get the feeling his flirtatious ways might mean a bit more. Should you get your hopes up, or would that be your heart's last mistake?

Tags: 18+ only. Smut, oral sex (female and male receiving), female masturbation, unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, light nipple play. Flirting, alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of war and canon-typical violence, foul language, angst. Also, I am basing some of Crosshair's appearance on this magnificent art here.

Word count: 7056 words

Playlist: Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys

The man who filled your thoughts that night leaned over the billiards table. He closed the left eye, leaving the right, tattooed eye open, and he shoved the cue forward with a strength and precision you couldn’t help but find seductive. The sound of the resin clinking as the multiple billiards balls made their way across the table was soon replaced by whistles and calls celebrating Crosshair’s trickshot, after which he straightened up next to the table and looked at his opponent, holding out his hand to collect his wager.

Crosshair had won yet another match that night. As he took the amount of credits he’d wagered from his last opponent, he dismissed himself from the competition with a carefree wave of his hand, and with dark amber eyes, he made his way to you.

“Don’t you look pretty there, cheering me on,” he purred.

You crossed one leg over the other and leaned back on the chair pretending you didn’t care much for what he was saying. “You say I’m pretty, but you’ve barely paid attention to me tonight, handsome.” You smirked at him and winked when you finished your sentence, and Crosshair couldn’t help but smirk back as he took a seat across from you.

He took another sip out of his whisky and looked over at your glass of beer. “You nearly finished that.”

“My point exactly,” you shrugged.

“Come now,” Crosshair moved his chair over closer to you and slid his glass to match his new position on the table. “I was getting credits to spoil you.”

Your head jerked in his direction and you pouted up at him. “Really? How?”

Crosshair chuckled next to your ear, his warm breath over your skin sending shivers through your body. “I was thinking… we could get another round of drinks…”

“Uh-huh?” You prompted as your body leaned closer to him against your will. You could spend weeks, months even, trying not to appear too needy or desperate to him, trying to balance out your pleas to have him closer with your wit and your sarcasm, but all Crosshair had to do was lean in close and purr at you, and you were on your knees.

“We can have as many as you want,” Crosshair continued, “and then…”

You turned and met his eyes when he trailed off. “And?”

He leaned back on his chair and took a sip out of his whisky. But you, in turn, leaned forward to match him, taking the drink from his hand and sipping on it yourself.

“And then what?” You asked again.

Crosshair chuckled, the sound deep and enticing. He took his drink back from you and set it on the table, only to then reach for your chin with his hand, cold from the icy drink he’d just held. Crosshair looked you in the eyes, and for a moment you swore his gaze softened, but it soon regained its usual fire as his grip tightened when he pulled you close.

“Play your cards right and tonight might be your night,” Crosshair crooned.

You felt yourself clench around nothing between your legs, and before you had a thought of what to respond, Crosshair got up from the chair and made his way past the billiards tables to the bar, where he gestured to his drink and yours at the bartender.

That man was dangerously sexy.

You thought he’d come back to the table with you, but instead, you saw him heading towards the back of the bar when his glass was refilled. He looked back at you and signaled you to follow him, and you obeyed. Before leaving, you took the last fried cheese stick from the plate at the center of the table and ate it on the way, and when you walked past the bar, the bartender handed you the beer bottle Crosshair had ordered for you. You took it with a smile and followed Crosshair behind the bar to a storage room. It wasn’t too dim that you feared for your life, but it wasn’t well lit enough to attract any other attention to it, and inside it, Crosshair waited for you. You watched him stand there sipping from his whisky, looking gorgeous in those dark gray trousers and pitch-black shirt topped by a black leather jacket.

Crosshair turned around and let his gaze pierce into you, and a smirk formed on his lips as he approached you. Unsure what to expect from him, your heart squeezed when he reached his arm past you to close the door behind you, and when he pulled his arm back, he once again took his hand up to your chin and lifted your face up to look at him.

“Cross…” You sighed.

He chuckled. “You do want this, right?”

“Yes,” you nearly moaned. You set your beer down next to you on one of the boxes and let your hands snake up his chest until they found rest at the base of his neck. His free hand slid down your body and found the curve of your waist, pulling you closer—he didn’t need many more words before finally leaning down to kiss you.

It was everything you’d been fantasizing for months. Crosshair’s lips were warm and they kissed you with intent, igniting your veins and drenching you between your legs. You couldn’t help but whimper into the kiss as you clung tighter to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You had to stand on your toes to press yourself closer to him, feeling yourself getting drunk on the whisky you could taste in him. Your arms shook, your legs felt as if they wouldn’t hold you up, and your heart threatened to beat out of your chest when you felt his hardness begin to press up against your body.

“Take me,” you mumbled. “Take me now, Crosshair.”

He chuckled. “Needy. How cute.”

With a strong grip, Crosshair led you towards one of the larger crates in the room and he let you go just to pat on the surface. You obliged and hopped onto the crate, sitting and parting your legs to let him press closer to you. With one hand still holding his drink, Crosshair wrapped an arm around your waist and resumed kissing you. Hungrily, you kissed him back and ran your hands all over his body. You felt the lean lines on his back and the strong muscles on his chest. You tried to get a feel of his arms, but there wasn’t much you could feel over that leather jacket, so instead, you let your hands return to his abdomen. Through the fabric, you could feel the lumps of his abs as well as some of the scars he’d gotten over the years, but choosing to focus less on the soldier and more on the man, you let your hands make their way downward.

Crosshair let the hand on your body travel as well. He felt himself getting harder at the sight of you in front of him, eager to let him in, your legs parted letting the fabric of your skirt barely attempt to hide the panties from his sight. His hand brushed down past the end of your skirt over the skin of your thigh, and Crosshair let his nails slightly dig into your flesh as he ran his hand down your leg. You whimpered and tightened your grip on him, your back straightening and making you press your breasts onto him, a reflex Crosshair may have enjoyed too much as you felt him grin into your lips.

His hand made its way up your body again. You felt his touch going up your leg and your belly until it eventually reached your chest, and he let his fingers expand over the curve of one of your breasts. Your breath hitched when Crosshair caressed and massaged you, squeezing with the perfect amount of strength to send your mind reeling without any pain, and soon, his fingertips found the bud of your nipple, which he freely pinched just enough to draw a moan from you.

“Fuck…” you whimpered.

Crosshair gave a low laugh. “You’re gonna have to be quiet, darlin’. We’re only allowed in here so long as we don’t make a scene to the whole bar, understood?”

You nodded, licking your lips before reaching down to grab the hem of your blouse, pulling it up and off your body. Crosshair’s gaze darkened as he glanced at your breasts and the delicate black bra that covered them. You reached back to undo the hook of your bra and he helped you take it off, growling as he saw the way your breasts fell freely. With a smirk, Crosshair managed to tear his gaze from your mounds and looked you in the eyes, holding his glass out to you.

“Hold this, darlin’,” he gave you the glass.

Dazed, you held onto his drink. Crosshair now had both of his hands free, and he first held the sides of your torso with his fingertips resting on your back, and he pulled you up while bending down and trailing kisses starting at your collarbone. He traced his lips over your chest, relishing in the way your panting made it go up and down while he brought his hands to your front again. Crosshair took one breast in each of his hands and resumed the massaging and caressing, and soon after, he started lightly pinching at your nipples before bringing his lips down at the level of your breasts.

You suppressed a moan as best as you could when Crosshair placed his lips over one of your nipples. He gently sucked on the bud while his hand continued to massage the other one, making you crave more. You slowly rubbed your hips against the crate under you and felt the dampness between your legs delicious with the friction. Heat rushed to your cheeks when you felt your own pulse down between your legs, so you threw your head back and enjoyed as Crosshair had his way with you.

Much to your pleasure, Crosshair soon resumed his way down, and the emptiness on your breasts was soon compensated by the sight of Crosshair kneeling down before you with dark eyes as he reached for your panties under your skirt. You wiggled to help him get them off and felt the cool air against your moist cunt. You heard Crosshair suck air in through his teeth, and he let his hands slide from your ankles up your legs until firmly grasped your hips.

When you finally felt his tongue against your cunt, you had to constantly convince yourself not to succumb entirely to the bliss—you didn’t want a shattered whisky glass ruining the moment. You moaned as quietly as you could, but the ecstasy wasn’t any less present in the lack of volume. Crosshair pressed himself deeper into your flesh, devouring you, expertly working his tongue and his lips over your all too sensitive clit. You couldn’t help but use your free hand to continue massaging one of your nibbles, just a little extra to enhance the pleasure you already felt.

And as Crosshair flicked his tongue quicker over your clit, you felt yourself getting closer to climax, causing you to press your hips forward onto him. It made him moan, his voice rumbling low in your flesh and making you roll your eyes back, dangerously close to release. Crosshair’s pace didn’t relent. He continued to suck away at your clit until you felt your hips quiver and the temperature of your body oscillate between hot and cold. Your mind went blank as you tried your best not to moan out his name—you were sure everyone out at the bar would hear you if you did. Your body squirmed on that crate as Crosshair continued to make you his own, and you were so gone that you barely noticed when his tongue left your pussy.

You whined softly when you realized he’d stopped. Crosshair was standing back up, and he reached for the glass of whisky in your hand, taking a long sip of it and downing half of its content. Crosshair grunted as the alcohol burned his throat, his chest heaving slightly after his efforts with you. You didn’t hold out your hand to take the glass from him again—messy as you were, you weren’t close to done. You wanted more, and you wanted him. You got down from the crate, and Crosshair watched you in confusion that turned into delight when he saw you kneeling down before him and reaching for the zipper of his pants.

“Oh, such a good girl,” Crosshair purred as he reached his free hand down to brush your cheek. You were still focused on undoing the button and zipper, until you finally pulled down the fabric to free his erection from confinement.

Your mouth watered at the sight. Sucking him off was yet another of the fantasies you’d had for months, just one more thing you dreamt of doing with him every time you met up with him at the bar. Every time you’d questioned if Crosshair was into you had led to that moment, alone with him in that storage room. He’d already claimed you, now it was your turn. You wrapped your fingers around his girth and took him into your mouth, starting off with just the tip, sucking and circling your tongue around it getting used to the taste.

Above you, Crosshair downed the rest of his whisky and set the glass down on another box beside him with a loud toc, moaning softly and whisper-grunting out “Fuck!” as you took more of his length in your mouth. Your breathing deepened, struggling ever so slightly at the fullness in your mouth, yet resolved to see it through. Still, you were aching between your legs as if your folds begged to be touched. It wasn’t like you needed both of your hands to suck Crosshair’s dick, so you took one of them down and rubbed small, quick circles on your clit, whimpering softly into his shaft.

Crosshair looked down at you. The way you had his cock in your mouth, the way you touched yourself, it nearly made him lose all sense of reason. His gaze softened at you as though it were filled with wonder and adoration more than desire. Crosshair reached a hand down and took some of your hair in his hand, stroking the curve of your head before resting his hand down beside your cheek again. The gesture prompted you to look up at him, and when you did, you nearly climaxed again when you noticed how beautifully he was looking at you. At that moment, Crosshair didn’t look like a man only thinking of sex, he looked like a man who adored you completely. Yet another one of your fantasies was coming true.

Your vision blurred, however, when your rubbing on your clit made you climax again. The waves of your orgasm made your lips tighten around Crosshair’s thickness, drawing a low moan from him. He mumbled a few other words you didn’t bother listening to. You were too deep in your orgasm to make sense of anything anyway. You only came to your senses when you felt his hand tugging your cheek ever so gently, bringing your rubbing on your clit to a stop as you looked at him again.

“I want to cum inside you,” Crosshair whispered as he helped you up and hastily helped you back onto the crate where he first had you.

You sat in a similar position as you had initially, with your legs parted and welcoming him to do whatever he wanted with you, and Crosshair leaned in close enough to have to rest his hands on the wall behind you just after sliding his length into your warm, wet walls. Your hands clung to his shoulders, clawing at the leather jacket that made him look dangerously handsome, and you felt your body bouncing with every thrust he gave into your hips. You could hear Crosshair grunting softly between luscious thrusts, as well as the sound of the bottles of alcohol within the crate clanking against each other with his movements. Softly, you whimpered—your cunt was already too sensitive from two orgasms. A third one was beginning to creep up on you, this one boiling deep inside you and promising to rattle you to your very bones. While you waited for it, you looked at Crosshair, his eyes dark and focusing on yours as he fucked deep into you.

You took a hand behind Crosshair’s head, curling your fingers in his hair, as you rested your forehead on his while never breaking eye contact. You wanted to be looking into those eyes when the pleasure took over you, and by the stars, it was everything you dreamed. When the waves of your third orgasm started, all you saw was Crosshair. All you felt was him. You wrapped your legs around his waist and tightened your grip, feeling your arousal dripping from your cunt and splashing your skin, and by extension his, and the only thought in your mind was his name. Not long after your walls had clenched around his cock, you heard Crosshair give a grunt and you felt his warmth filling you inside.

You had longed for that sensation, and it was unimaginably better than you ever could have anticipated. Crosshair then stopped his thrusts as the ropes of hot, thick cum continued to splash inside you, and when he was done, he slowly pulled out of you as you both attempted to catch your breaths.

The entirety of your weight still rested on the hard crate underneath you. You couldn’t feel any of the cold from the wall anymore. Its temperature had merged with the one Crosshair had made you feel—your inability to think about anything other than the wall behind you lay testament to how dumbfoundingly well he had just taken care of you. Your breathing slowed as you made contact with his beautiful amber gaze, his irises making you shiver with expectation as he got up and began leaning closer and his arms snaked towards you. Perhaps he had more in mind for you? You silently begged he would.

Your heart skipped a beat. Without warning, you felt the contact of Crosshair’s bare fingertips on your own, heedfully sliding across your palm from your pinky finger and forward towards your thumb. What you thought was an honest gesture of taking your hand turned out to be him reaching for his trousers for a pack of cigarettes, and before breaking eye contact with you to pull one out, you saw something flash in his eyes you didn’t know what to make out of.

Crosshair lit the cigarette and took a long inhale like it was the fresh air he yearned for. He watched you as you slowly regained composure and reached for your bra and your blouse, attempting to dress again.

“Need help with that?” He crooned.

“I’m good,” you replied. “But let me know next time you want to take these off me.”

Crosshair scoffed, taking another breath from his cigarette.

When you finished dressing you got down from the crate and stood firmly on the ground. You made your way over to Crosshair and he opened the door of the cellar, standing aside to let you through first. You smiled at him and were just about to step out the door when you hastily remembered your beer was still in there—no way you were gonna leave that abandoned. Though you focused on your drink, you did manage to hear Crosshair chuckle as he walked after you back towards the bar.

Crosshair draped an arm around your shoulders as you both walked back to the table you’d chosen earlier. He pulled a chair out for you to sit and went across to sit in front of you, and shortly after, a waiter brought him another glass of whisky. You hadn’t even noticed when he’d ordered—were you that awestruck from your recent encounter in the cellar?

“Do you want anything else, doll?” He asked you.

“What?” You snapped your attention to him, stuttering. “No, no, I’m… good.”

Crosshair chuckled. You could tell he was just being cocky.

The night wore on mostly in silence as you finished up your drinks. Though many of your daydreams had just become reality, you weren’t sure what was going to happen next. You were happy to suggest more things, but you were also curious to see what Crosshair had in mind. If nothing else came up, you would ask him to your place, and maybe he could spend the night, maybe you could play something on the holo for background noise while he made you his own again…

You set your empty beer bottle down on the table and looked up at him, your eyes wide and beckoning him. In one gulp, he finished his whisky and began to stand up, and you followed.

Crosshair looked over at the bartender. “Put it on Hunter’s tab, will you?”

You saw the bartender nod, but you quickly focused on Crosshair again as he adjusted his jacket. He put the cigarette out on the ashtray on the center of the table and finally looked at you, smirking softly as he began to make his way towards the exit with you next to him. The cool air hit you hard when you were out on the street, and without any prompt, you felt Crosshair placing his jacket over you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled.

You both stood in silence, and the absence of words or plans was destroying you. Finally, you reached within you for courage.

“Would you like to go back to my place?” You asked him.

Crosshair chuckled as he reached a hand for your chin, letting you see the snake tattoo that was prominent on his forearm. The gesture and the ink made you clench around nothing all over again.

“You still want more?” He hummed.

“Yes,” you admitted. “But I was also thinking maybe we could just… spend the night? You know, if you’re tired. Just us.”

He chuckled again. “Can’t. I ship out early.”

Your heart sank. “Crosshair…”

He raised a brow at you, prompting you to speak.

“I want to know…” you trailed off. “What we did back there… it wasn’t nothing, right?”

“Did it feel like nothing?” He asked.

“Well, no—”

“Don’t fix what isn’t broken, darlin’,” he evaded you.

“You know what I mean,” you said. “We’ve been meeting up for months. I want you, Crosshair, more than just in a hidden cellar.”

Crosshair sighed. “Please don’t go and ruin this. Not now.”

You felt your heart plummeting inside you. Were you delusional? Those times his eyes had softened at you, his fingers brushing your cheeks with such care, was it all yet another daydream you’d fabricated? Had you just made an utter fool of yourself?

“Oh…” you whispered. “I…”

He sighed. Crosshair looked like he was about to say something else, but you didn’t want to give yourself more reasons to get your heart broken.

“That’s fine, I… I got it wrong,” you said before he could speak.

“Come on, doll,” Crosshair faced you. “I’m always on the move and way too close to blaster fire for us to be a good idea.”

“Then what the hell was that back there?” You gestured at the cellar.

“I like to have my fun.” Crosshair shrugged.

Fury boiled within you. “Are you kidding me? That’s what you mean, that I’m just a bit of fun?”

“I mean I’m not tied down, and neither are you,” Crosshair looked you in the eyes. Whatever emotions he showed before, this time you were sure he was completely serious.

But knowing he was being honest didn’t make things any easier.

Crosshair sighed. “Look, just…”

You looked at him, not knowing whether to hope for him to say something to remedy your feelings or not.

“You’re great,” he said. “And I look forward to seeing you when I come back to this planet. But don’t mistake this for something else. You’d be wasting your time with me.”

“I wouldn’t,” you tried to appeal, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. “Crosshair, I am mad for you! Tonight has been everything I’ve been yearning for months. You are all I want, this is all I want.”

He didn’t say anything to you. He simply looked you in the eyes with dismay.

Slowly, you unwrapped your arms from Crosshair’s waist. “But… you don’t want that.”

Crosshair looked upset. You figured he wasn’t a monster, and anyone would appear upset when making such a rejection. For your sake, you wouldn’t make anymore of it. Crosshair was difficult to read as it was.

You took his jacket off and handed it to him. “You’ll be needing this.”

“Babe, don’t do this—”

“You either do or you don’t, Crosshair,” you said, unwilling to have your time be wasted. “And right now you’re telling me you don’t, so…”

For a moment, Crosshair seemed to sadden.

You sighed. “I should just go home.”

Crosshair tore his eyes from you for a moment and he took the jacket from your grip in a surprisingly gentle manner. “I guess you should.”

You managed to meet his gaze. You didn’t want him to be out of your life, as much as you were heartbroken by him pushing you away. And the thought of him being out at war, all alone, with his life on the line every day… The idea of something happening to him and you not being in his life somehow was even more dreadful than the idea of losing him whilst having had the chance to love him.

But there was no changing Crosshair’s mind.

“Be safe,” you managed to say.

Crosshair looked at you again, his eyes laden with sorrow. Had you been more naive, you would have expected him to tell you not to leave, that he was wrong, he’d been an idiot, that he did want to be with you. But waiting for something that wouldn’t happen was too painful, and you decided to be the one who left first.

You walked homeward without looking back, and as a tear rushed down your cheek, you tried your best not to blame yourself for thinking your feelings could go both ways.

Blue and white specs of hyperspace surrounded the Marauder. Crosshair sat in his usual chair, in his usual pose of having one leg crossed over the other while the Firepuncher rifle rested across the length of his shin. Holding the rifle, his thumb tapped rhythmically over the scope in tandem with the beat of the song he was listening to on two very discreet yet very loud earbuds. The bass and the guitar, the strong and steady drums reminded him of himself, but the lyrics only made him think of you. The stoic sniper kept a straight face during the multiple times he listened to it, and his mind was able to ponder on many things at once.

What were you up to? Why was he doing something he’d openly laugh at someone else if they were doing the exact same by listening to a rock song thinking of you? What were you wearing that day? How many more men had perished in the battle he was headed to since he and his squad received the briefing? Was it even still daytime on Coruscant? And if it was night time, were you in the arms of another? He hadn’t given you a reason to cling to him anyway, not the last time he’d met you.

He focused his mind on you, your eyes staring up at him, the warmth of your body against his and the pitch of your little whimpers, the way your fingertips curled around his hair when he made you squirm and how your soft lips felt on his skin. He thought back to the moment he nearly took your hand and fooled himself into grabbing a cigarette instead. And then he’d done it again when he told you it was all a bit of fun, when he said he didn’t want to be yours, when he stood there watching you walk away from him.

Despite your absence, Crosshair had been seeing you for nights since his shore leave on Coruscant ended. You were constantly on his mind, much to his annoyance. The fact that every dream and every song lyric brought your face back into his sights was a constant reminder of his own incapacity to admit something so basic—but if it was so basic, why did that feeling fucking eat him away from the inside out? Crosshair sneered. He was at a point where he feared only the unspeakable horrors of war would succeed in removing you from his mind, a fact he didn’t know if it would be terrible or merciful. But he, alongside everyone inside the Marauder, was in for one hell of a battle, already forecast to be one of the bloodiest of the war.

If that didn’t do it, nothing would.

Crosshair’s head swayed forward and back as exhaustion took over him, and he had no sense to even make out how beneficial it would be for him to get a few winks of sleep before reaching the trenches that waited for him on landfall. Blurs of you raced through his mind as the chorus of the song echoed in his subconscious for another countless time, and after what had only felt like seconds, Crosshair regained consciousness to a Marauder that was navigating the transition between space and the tremorous atmosphere of their destination.

Even the clouds foretold the misery that waited for them down there.

Crosshair still had the earbuds on, shielding him from the sounds playing out before him, but he was able to make out Hunter’s silhouette approaching him as he mouthed the words be ready, and a cold shudder took over Crosshair as he saw Hunter had an aura of dread in him as well.

The Marauder shook from the heavy turbulence around it. Crosshair removed the earbuds and slipped his helmet over his head, and he took his rifle, ready for anything. If he made it out alive, he’d probably ask you out for whisky the moment he saw you again.

You couldn’t help but feel wary when your doorbell rang. No one ever visited you, you weren’t expecting anything to be delivered, or anyone to drop by, you didn’t even have anything planned that night. In the absence of anything going on, you figured you’d make your way across your little apartment to the door.

“Who is it?” You called.

From the other side of your door, you were met with hesitation. You were then surprised by hearing your name being spoken in a coiled, smooth voice, its pitch low that made your name sound like the galaxy’s rarest delicacy.

You opened the door.

There stood Crosshair, dressed in black and gray like he usually would when he met you at the bar. This time he wasn’t wearing a jacket, and the short sleeves of his shirt let you see the snake tattoo on his forearm that you loved so much, as well as the veins and thin layer of hair that made you wild. Still, as much as you loved that tattoo, the detail of a fresh, light-brown scar on his other forearm didn’t escape you.

You still hadn’t forgotten the way you’d parted the last time you were with him—you weren’t about to foolishly welcome him in again.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him, your voice plagued with more genuine curiosity than the spite of the walls you tried to put up.

Crosshair didn’t speak. He stepped forward and took you in his arms, quickly wrapping them around your silhouette as though clinging to your back and waist. The way he pressed your body to his was alien, but by no means unwelcome. You felt his heartbeat quicken against you as his grip gradually tightened, and as he straightened his back, you had to lift yourself to be on your toes.

“Crosshair?” You inquired.

He gave a brief shake before steadying himself again. “I needed to see you.”

With a brief sigh, your heart sank. You’d watched the news over the past few days, and now that a soldier was clinging to you for dear life, you managed to put two and two together.

“You were on Umbara, weren’t you?” Your voice was barely louder than a whisper, somber, yet comforting.

Crosshair loosened his grip just enough to look you in the eyes, and the snark and wit were suddenly gone from his gaze replaced by revelation.

“Your brothers?” You followed up. “Are they okay?”

“They’re all fine, but…” Crosshair trailed off. “Too many platoons. Too many families were broken.”

You never thought he cared that much. You gently reached a hand up to cup his cheek, and he leaned into your warmth while having one of his own hands fly up to meet your own, holding your palm closer to him. You could see the remorse in his eyes, but you wouldn’t be arrogant enough to believe that remorse was only caused by you. You feared the answer of your next question.

“Did you…?” You couldn’t even bring yourself to finish the thought.

Crosshair shuddered at the memory of a blue and white helmet under his scope. He shuddered at the thought of what would have been and how many more would have fallen if Rex hadn’t run past him waving his arms. The idea of someone, anyone, using him against his brothers, controlling him with sinister motives and turning him against his own brothers… Crosshair knew how dangerous he would be, and the thought terrified him.

“I need you,” Crosshair admitted. “All that time, I needed you. I didn’t want to die out there. I didn’t want to kill one of my own.”

“Hey…” You comforted him. “None of you knew.”

Crosshair cupped your hands with his face, the gentle gesture rendered desperate with his grip giving away how starved he was.

“I need you,” he said again, a faint growl appearing in his voice. “I need to know if you feel this agony when you’re away from me, if you’d be the only home I would return to. I want to be too fucking busy being yours to die out there. I want to be yours I’m willing to crawl back to you every fucking time.”

Your eyes widened in endearment and disbelief at the words he’d spoken. “I thought you didn’t want that…”

Crosshair’s gaze and grip softened as he leaned in closer to you until his lips fell on yours. He only broke the kiss to look you in the eyes again, more serious than he ever could be.

“I was an idiot,” he admitted.

You chuckled softly. “You kind of were. But so was I. I should have admitted my feelings too, long ago.”

Crosshair smiled softly and shook his head. “Wouldn’t have made a difference. I’m too stubborn.”

You giggled, cupping his face. “I like you stubborn.”

His smile turned into a smirk. “I know.”

Your hands traveled over to his chest, where they rested gently. “Would you like to go somewhere? Clear your head?”

“I was wondering if you’d let me take you up on the offer to spend the night,” Crosshair answered without hesitation.

You smiled. “Absolutely.”

“But no cheesy soap operas on the holo,” Crosshair added.

“You sure?” You grinned with mischief. “Scandal Gal is getting really good. I think Flair and Puck are finally gonna get together.”

Crosshair directed a deadpan stare at you, but that was one of your favorite expressions on his face. You giggled, wrapping your arms fully around his shoulders as you softly kissed his chin.

“I’m here and I’m yours, you hear me?” Your tone softened.

A subdued exhale left Crosshair as his gaze turned gentle on you, but his grip around your waist hardened. Before you made sense of the door of your apartment finally closing, Crosshair pressed his lips to yours with his movements quickly igniting a passion between you. You forgot the holos and the music and whatever refreshments you could have offered your guest. There was only one thing you wanted to do that night.

The stumbling between your apartment’s door and your bed was a blur, but as soon as you were able to make sense of being in your bedroom, you felt Crosshair picking you up and setting you gently on the bed. He crawled on the bed too, perching himself up on his knees to pull his shirt up over his body to cast it aside, and you couldn’t help the tiny whimper that left you at the sight of him.

Crosshair was gorgeous, with his beautiful bronze skin apparently glowing in the light of your room. The snake tattoo on his forearm seemed more prominent when he was shirtless, but your eyes were drawn to the area of his chest where you couldn’t help but stare at the thin layer of hair near the center, as well as the little 99 tattooed underneath his left pec. There were also scars scattered around his torso, all balanced out with the lean lines of his muscles.

He smirked at the sight of you, proud that you apparently liked what you saw. You knew he wasn’t done, for he then proceeded to undo his trousers, which you gladly watched him do. When Crosshair was naked in front of you, you hurried to take off your blouse and your pants, which he helped you out of, until at last you lay bare and naked underneath him.

The electricity of the moment paled in comparison to the cellar at the bar the other night, an occasion far more desperate and wanting at the time. This was far more intimate, even romantic, as Crosshair leaned down and made contact with your skin. You felt yourself engulfed in his warmth as he kissed you again. He switched between your lips, your chin, and your neck, ravishing you and making you feel like you were among clouds. You rested your head back on the pillow and let him have his way with you, which would pleasantly surprise you sooner rather than later when you felt his fingers beginning to stroke you between your legs.

A moan escaped you like honey. Crosshair applied the right amount of pressure to your folds to make the pleasure begin to flow through your body, steady and delicious. Your arms wrapped around his back, pulling him closer as you continued to kiss him, and when you brushed your tongue past his lips to wrestle with his, you felt his long finger slipping inside your walls to stroke and curl inside you. Hungrily, you moaned into him, partly wishing it was his cock inside you rather than his finger, but you wouldn’t rush things.

Delectably slowly, you felt yourself getting closer to climax, and the way your moaning escalated lay testament to that. Your grip around Crosshair was as hard as it could be, and when he began to feel your walls tighten around his finger, Crosshair emerged from your lips and gasped for air, looking into your eyes. You pleaded to him with your gaze not to stop, to please continue and push you over that edge you so desperately wanted. All it took was a smirk from him to finally do it, and you began to quiver underneath him as you moaned loud enough for the adjacent apartments to hear you. Incoherent mumbles escaped you, but among them, Crosshair was able to make out the words kiss me, please, and he obliged.

You drowned in the feeling of his lips on yours while your orgasm endured, and as the waves wore off, you felt Crosshair shifting your positions. Now, his back lay flat on the bed and you were on top of him, and it was only then that you broke the kiss to position your entrance on top of his erection. You both moaned in unison as you sat down on him, and with his strong hands, Crosshair helped you bounce up and down rhythmically.

“Come here,” Crosshair beckoned.

You leaned forward while Crosshair continued thrusting upwards, and you enjoyed the feeling of being close to him once again. Your lips found his and you kissed him with the same fire as before, only pausing to look into his gorgeous eyes as the pleasure filled you again. Your attention lingered on every one of Crosshair’s tiny grunts and moans—they were enough to send sparks through your whole body, and you felt you could listen to him do that forever. Crosshair’s grip on your hips tightened, thrusting into you at a speed you felt was impossible, and at that rhythm of pounding, you quickly shattered over him in another orgasm, moaning louder than before and quaking on top of his body. You felt your arousal squirting out of you and dripping onto his skin, a feeling you knew he picked up on when he moaned deep and delicious into the room. Not long after that, the familiar sensation of hot ropes of cum strewing inside of you made you see white, and you felt your body rise and fall in tandem with Crosshair’s heavy breathing as he slowed down and tried to recover himself.

“Mine…” Crosshair mumbled. “Fuck, you’re mine.”

You moaned at his words and leaned down to kiss him. “All yours, handsome…”

With the strength he had left, Crosshair tightened his grip around you and flipped you over, and now, he was on top of you.

Your man, your lover, was nowhere near done with you, and you were ready for nights like those to become a regular part of both of your lives.

Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging and/or commenting to show support ❤

[skibasyndrome]

🎃 Simon's kinktober fic masterpost 🍁

Soooo... since, despite all the factors slowing me down, I plan on pushing through with doing all the prompts I thought I should make a post to keep track of everything in one place

Day 1: Sit back and watch (I'm gonna dance for you) (masturbation & spit) “Have you never thought about it?” he asks, and Simon is about to chide him for avoiding a question with a follow-up-question, but Wille is pushing on.“I’m just curious,” he says, pointedly casual about it (Simon doesn’t buy it, Wille seldom feels ‘just’ anything, he’s a thinker, that man, sometimes to a fault). “I’ve never seen you do it.” And, as if he’s sensing the protest that’s about to come out of Simon’s mouth: “Without me fucking you, I mean.”

Day 2: Sharpen your teeth, sink into me (marks & biting) “Please,” is all he can muster, eyes squeezed shut against the threat of tears, of overwhelm, of having everything he tried to hold in come spilling out. Not now, he thinks, not yet. He needs more, needs Simon’s mouth and hands and body to coax the raw emotion out of him. Needs to feel it all before he can truly let go. Fingers digging into the skin of Simon’s back, into the straining muscles of his shoulder blades, he swallows again, forces his voice to form the words, broken fragments scattered for Simon to put back together. “Simon,” he breathes. ”Need you, please.”

Day 3: In silence, I'm yours (sound/staying quiet, hands & 69) “Shit,” he whispers, moves to pull away, but is stopped. Simon’s fingers quickly wrap around his wrist, keep it in place, keep it right there, right where it’s firmly pressed over Simon’s mouth. Wille just looks at his palm, then into Simon’s eyes. They’re wide, staring back up at Wille, glinting dangerously. And, for a moment, neither of them moves. It’s Simon who makes the first move, who now, after all, tugs Wille’s palm away from his face. His eyes are still intently boring into Wille’s and, god, Wille feels himself twitch inside of Simon at the sudden charge of the air around them. “Wanna try to make me?” Simon whispers, almost breathless now.

Day 4: Love the shape of your mouth (and the back of your head) (makeup, praise kink, oral sex, deepthroating and light dacryphilia) “You can’t keep saying that,” is all she says as she drops her head down and onto Simon’s stomach. He hears her let out a frustrated little noise into the fabric of his dress shirt, and he laughs, pointedly ignoring the way her proximity to his crotch is making him feel.She's laughing, too, that same carefree laugh that Simon’s been thinking about all evening. He puts a hand on the back of her head, stroking over her hair for a moment.“I mean it, though, Wille” he says, because he’s not going to let her deflect again. “You look stunning.”

Day 5: I've never met arms like yours (cockwarming & spooning) “You're hard,” Simon mumbles into Wille's forearm. Wille lets out a small laugh. “Yeah,” he admits apologetically, kissing the mole on the back of Simon's neck. A little begrudgingly, he removes his other arm from around Simon's middle to get it between them, so he can rearrange himself in his sweatpants. “Sorry.” But Simon's hand shoots up, keeping Wille's arm around him in place. “It's fine,” Simon says, then wiggles backwards a little until Wille is firmly lodged between Simon's body and the back of the couch. “Feels nice,” Simon hums and leans into him some more, pressing his ass against Wille’s erection.

Day 6: And the mirrors gon' fog tonight (mirror, hands, a little bit of praise) “Is this-,” Wille’s voice is hoarse, deep, sounds like he’s overcome with something that Simon can’t place. “Is this okay?” Simon only nods, meeting his eyes through the mirror, feeling a pang to his groin at the way he is forced to look up at him from this position. There’s a noticeable shift in Wille, his shoulders seem to get less tense, he seems to stop straining his neck quite as much. “Yeah?” is what Wille pushes out. Then, clearing his throat: “Do you like this?”

Day 7: One, two, three (Not only you and me) (threesome, first time [having a threesome], lapdance) And, so, Wille finds himself exactly where Nils promised he could relax for once, have a good time, calm down after all that stress of the past few months or maybe years. As it happens, that promised space of escapism has quickly shrunk down to a small seat, in the booth with Simon. Simon who was excited to find two fellow Swedes in a random Swiss town, who's in Verbier because his sister's friend invited the two of them to her family's holiday chalet, who's here, specifically, because he didn't want to intrude on girls’ night and because they don't have these kinds of parties in his hometown. And because he doesn’t really go to them in Stockholm, either, where he's currently studying at university. Simon who's got the prettiest head of curls Wille has ever seen, and the funniest laugh and whose lips look so pillowy and soft that - not that he'd admit it - it hit him like a punch to the gut to watch Nils kiss them on the dance floor a few minutes ago. Wille goes to Verbier with his friend Nils. They end up meeting Simon at a party.

Day 8: Body language say you wanna (semi-public sex, cruising, roleplay) “What’s your name anyways,” Wille mumbles, mouthing his way back up to the guy’s ear while he lets his hand reach out and wrap around his hard length. Wille wonders if he got him to this point or if the other guy had anything to do with it. Wille sincerely hopes this is all his doing. The man gasps, then lets out a short laugh. “Does it matter?” he asks, and Wille bites his earlobe. “You tell me,” Wille whispers back, overtaken by a new kind of fervor, now that he’s got the man in front of him like this, naked, needy, hard. He jerks his fist over him a couple times, reveling in the way his breathing picks up, in the way he bucks into his hand. “Do you want me to use it when I fuck you?” he adds, stepping closer, trying to open his own pants with one hand while applying more pressure to the other man’s cock.

Day 9: On the tip of my tongue, on the top of your thighs (1/2) (wax play, thighs, marks) “Are you okay? Does it still feel good?” He asks, instead of letting the emotion take over. He trails his fingers up along the outside of Wille’s thigh, relishing in the way he jumps a little. When he looks up again, he sees Wille nodding, head rustling the linen it’s resting on top of. Simon waits, drawing small circles into the outside of Wille’s thigh. He knows this can’t be easy, feels a little out of it himself and he’s not even the one lying there. After another moment, he hears Wille clear his throat. “So good,” he pushes out, breathless, a little hoarse, sounding stunningly overwhelmed. Warmth spreads inside of Simon’s chest.

Day 10: And if I searched a thousand miles I'd be dying to find (2/2) (intercrural sex, thighs, marks, oral sex) If that’s okay, Simon thinks and is a little too overrun with lust to laugh, but he definitely scoffs at the ridiculous notion that it wouldn’t be okay, that he’d be anything but absolutely fucking enthusiastic to fuck Wille any way he wants. And he should tell him, really, let him know that anything he could ever want they can talk about and Simon will be really fucking glad to try with him. Instead though, he postpones that, for later, after, when he’s not busy trying to keep a remnant of a rational thought in his mind at the view in front of him, of Wille lying, waiting for him, beautiful and breathing heavily and, fuck, grinding his hips against the mattress in tiny movements.

Day 11: My skin on your skin, again and again (frottage, cum play, fingers) So, technically, it would be more than a little unwise to have sex in these conditions. But Simon’s never been known to make smart choices, has always had a knack for impulsive decisions. So of course he’s perched on top of his friend now, of course he’s rutting his cock against Wille’s, skin gliding together easily with sweat and spit and whatever else. Of course he’s got his hand wrapped around both of them, trying to keep up a steady rhythm, trying to make this good for them, while Wille is being difficult in this stupidly perfect way of his.

Day 12: In the back of your car there's a big black mark (where I ripped the seat) (car sex, riding, a little breathplay/choking) They have their first little talk of the evening with Simon on one side of the buffet table, Wille on the other, sweet fucking irony, Wille thinks, remembering itchy wigs and poofy pants and the most beautiful song he’s heard in his life, to date. They chat, crack a joke here and there, laugh, even. Settle back into a pattern that feels so eerily familiar, so nostalgic, so unreal. Because how can it be like this, how can they go back to who they were those years ago, how can it feel so effortless? Wille spends the rest of the evening on a cloud, untethered, floating, feeling light and ungrounded. Feeling like, at once, everything he’s been missing is coming back to him, overwhelming, but in the best way. And he is surprised, yeah, but also not at all, when they first crash into each other in the hallway. Because it feels like this is what they’ve been tiptoeing around all evening, this is what his entire body knew had to happen.

Day 13: Find a brand new way of seeing (Your eyes forever glued to mine) (1/2) (edging, toys, blindfolds) Everything is dark, and yet Wille feels like the white-hot sparks shooting up his spine are streaking his vision. He lets out a pathetic sound when Simon speeds up the movement of his hand yet again, only to stop all at once. This is worse than Wille imagined, so much worse. And he loves it. Every single touch, from Simon’s palm on his cock to the fingertips he’s digging into Wille’s hips to hold him down, Wille feels it tenfold. It’s like Simon’s hand weighs heavier on him than usually, like his skin feels hotter against Wille’s sensitive one, like every sound Simon makes, every little huff of breath, every single tsk he makes when Wille involuntarily tries to thrust up into his grip, is amplified. Wille thinks he can hear Simon smile, that typical brief exhale through his nose, a quiet hum. The thought sends a shiver up his spine. There’s a thrill in not knowing, not being able to see. In having to wait for verbal confirmation that he’s doing it right. He hopes he’s being good for Simon, hopes he is looking pretty with the black silk tied around his head.

Prompts below the cut

Prompts by the events blog:

Water

Desk

uniform/clothes/accessories

Mirror

Neck

Fireplace

marks/spots/freckles

Food

sound/staying quiet

Threesome

hands/feet

Oral sex

First time

Frottage

Worship

Toys

face-sitting/deep-throating

Masturbation

Multiple orgasms

Lap dance

Biting

(semi-)public sex

Anasyrma

Blindfold

ice/sensory play

Lingerie

Phone sex/sexting

Role-playing

Cum-play

thighs/intercrural

Dacryphilia

Edging

humiliation/praise kink

Wax play

bondage/handcuffs

Nipple clamps

dom/sub

choking/breathplay

Daddy kink

Spanking

Other prompts, sent in by tumblr users/anons:

Angry sex

Insecurity

inexperienced/experienced

Cozy

Praise

trying sth new

Toys

romantic get-away

[freshl6ve]

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ A ©FRESHL6VE ORIGINAL ONE—SHOT 𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦

⭑.ᐟ : 𝐈 𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐥, my feet dangling in the air above the concrete below. I watch as Chris effortlessly skates along the smooth surface, his body flowing gracefully with each movement. I feel my heart calm with each one of his tricks, the familiar routine of watching him skate acting like a soothing balm in my chaotic home life.

As he skates closer, Chris smiles at me, acknowledging her silent presence and unwavering support. He easily hops up to the edge of the bowl where I’m sitting, taking a seat beside me.

For a few moments, we sit in comfortable silence, our eyes both fixed on the sunset as it begins to paint the sky in warm, orange hues. The soft glow of the setting sun casts a glow on Chris’ face, highlighting his defined features and making him look more alluring than ever.

I turn my face away from the sunset and towards Chris, my eyes looking over at his profile. I notice his usual carefree expression is tinged with a hint of tension, and I raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Why’d you stop?” I finally break the silence, my voice echoing with a note of concern.

Chris lets out a small laugh, running a hand through his hair before he responds. “Just needed a break,” he replies easily, as if it were nothing. “Pushing myself too hard, needed to catch my breath for a second.”

I chuckle softly, shaking my head teasingly. “That's a first. You're always pushing yourself to the limit, never even seeming to care if you need to gasp for air,” I say, my voice gentle but filled with mirth.

“Maybe I’m getting tired in my old age,” Chris replies with a smirk, resting his elbow on his knee and turning so that he’s facing me more directly. “Soon I’ll be needing a cane and a wheelchair to get around the skate park.”

I smile, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “And who's going to be there to push you around the park when that day comes?” I ask, my voice light and teasing.

Chris laughs, shaking his head before replying. “You, of course. You know Matt or Nick won't do it, and with my luck I'd somehow end up sending myself into a wall or something.”

I chuckle, picturing Chris accidentally propelling himself into a wall and wincing with sympathy. “You're probably right. I can't picture Matt or Nick being very keen on being the designated wheelchair pusher.”

Chris grins, leaning back and propping himself up on his elbows. “They'd probably just laugh and leave me stranded somewhere. You're the only one I can trust to faithfully push me wherever I need to go.”

I laugh, my eyes returning to the orange and pink hues of the evening sky. The banter between us fades into a comfortable silence, the only sound the soft rustle of the wind through the trees.

The skate park was Chris's territory, and every time we visited the place was eerily empty and silent. He was the only one who really knew how to skate, but he always offered to help me learn.

Chris looked at me with a concerned expression, his voice soft as he asked, “How's everything?” He paused for a moment before continuing, “I know we promised not to talk about it, but I just wanted to check in. When you called me, you sounded different than most times.”

I shrugged my shoulders, a flicker of helplessness and resignation appearing in my eyes. “It's been the same,” I muttered, my voice quiet and strained. “The arguments, the yelling, the tension. It's the same, just louder and more chaotic than ever before.”

I looked up at the sky, my eyes burning and watery as a lump formed in my throat.

“I just wanna get out of there, Chris,” I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion, tears beginning to well up in my eyes. “It's too much sometimes. It's like I'm drowning in the chaos, and I can't find my way out.”

I continued, my voice growing more desperate and emotional with each word. “Everything's always so loud and out of control. There's no sense of peace or calmness. It's just constant yelling and arguing, and I can't handle it anymore. I feel like I'm suffocating, like I'm stuck in a place where I don't belong. I just want to escape, I just want to be free from it all.”

I took a shaky breath, my eyes meeting his as I continued. “You make me feel free,” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. “When I'm with you, the world seems less chaotic, less harsh. It's like you have the ability to mute all the noise and create a space just for us, where we can ignore the outside world and just be.”

Chris's gaze softened, his eyes locking onto mine with a mixture of concern and affection. “You don't have to suffer through it alone,” he replied gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on my knee. “You always have a place here, with me, where you can find peace and escape. I'll always be here for you.”

I felt a wave of warmth spread through me at his words, the sincerity in his voice bringing a fresh wave of tears to my eyes. “Thank you,” I whispers, my voice choked with emotion. “That means more to me than you could ever know.”

Chris stands up, a small, strained smile on his face as he asks, “Your dad still hate me though?” He starts to skate slowly, circling around the bowl as he waits for my response.

I sigh, nodding somberly as I reply, “Unfortunately, yeah, he does. He still thinks you're a 'bad influence' and doesn't want me hanging out with you.”

Chris lets out a bitter chuckle, continuing to skate as he responds, “Yeah, I figured as much. It's been the same old story every time we meet, hasn't it?”

I nod again, an annoyed frown on my face as I think about my dad's constant disapproval. “Yeah, it has. Every time he catches me sneaking out to see you, it's the same argument. He just doesn't understand why I enjoy spending time with you.”

Chris skates a tight circle around the bowl before responding, a self-deprecating smirk on his face. “Because I'm a skater with no future, as he says,” he echoed, his voice filled with a mix of resignation and bitterness.

I chuckled despite the sentiment, knowing full well that my dad had indeed said similar things about Chris and his passion for skating.

I watch with both fascination and sorrow as Chris continues skating, his movements both graceful and melancholic. Despite the constant criticism and disapproval from my dad, there was something captivating about watching Chris glide through the air, making even the most difficult tricks look like poetry in motion.

Chris suddenly landed a particularly impressive trick, sticking the landing with a look of pure determination on his face. As he came to a stop, he turned to face me, a small, satisfied smile on his face.

“What did you think of that one?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of pride and vulnerability, as if he was seeking my validation more than ever.

I smiled back at him, genuinely impressed by his skill. “It was incredible. You made it look so easy,” I complimented, watching as a flicker of relief passed through his eyes, as if my approval meant more to him than he would ever let on.

Chris sat back down beside me, looking straight ahead as he spoke. “Me, Matt and Nick were talking,” he began, pausing momentarily before continuing, “and we were thinking you should come move in with us.”

I raised an eyebrow in surprise, not expecting such a sudden offer. “Move in with you guys?” I repeated, a hint of disbelief in my voice. “Are you serious?”

Chris nodded, leaning back and supporting his weight on his palms.

“Yeah, dead serious. You can stay with me in my room, and we thought it'd be a good way to get you out of the toxic environment you're in right now,” he explained, his words honest and direct.

I sighed, my mind already picturing the myriad of insults and threats my parents would throw my way if I even mentioned moving out.

“I would love to, but—” I began, only to be cut off by Chris's firm yet gentle tone. “C’mon, Y/N. You're old enough to make your own decisions, not your dad, not even your mom. You can't let their approval dictate your life forever.”

I started to protest, opening my mouth to speak, but Chris quickly cut me off, grabbing my hand firmly and looking me straight in the eyes.

“Escape with me,” he repeated, his voice filled with both determination and tenderness. “Feel the actual freedom you've always wanted to feel, not just those three hours of freedom we get with each other and then being trapped in that toxic home of yours.”

My heart fluttered at the intensity in his gaze, his words echoing through my mind. “But... my parents, they'll—” I started to object, my voice trailing off as I thought about the confrontation that would surely follow if I went through with this.

Chris squeezed my hand tighter, his expression firm yet reassuring. “They won't do anything to you because I'll be there,” he promised, his voice filled with the unwavering confidence that had always attracted me to him. “I won't let anything happen. You have my word.”

I felt a wave of comfort wash over me, his words melting away some of the fear and anxiety I felt about confronting my parents. “Okay,” I whispered, my voice small but sure. “Okay, I'll do it. I'll escape with you.”

Chris smiled, relief and happiness evident in his expression. “You won't regret this,” he said, still holding my hand. “You're going to experience a whole new level of freedom, and I'll be right beside you every step of the way.”

I smiled back, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation building within me. For the first time in a long time, I felt like there was a light at the end of the tunnel, a way out of the chaos and abuse.

“I trust you,” I whispered, my voice filled with a mix of gratitude and affection.

Chris smiled, his free arm wrapping around my shoulders and pulling me into his chest. He held me close, his strong frame providing a sense of comfort and security I hadn't felt in ages.

As I leaned into him, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, knowing that I was making the right decision.

We both looked out at the sky, watching as the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The last rays of sunlight cast a warm, soft glow over the skatepark, bathing everything in a peaceful and calming light.

Chris broke the comfortable silence, his voice light and playful. “Can I teach you how to skate?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips as I looked up at him, my eyes meeting his gaze.

I chuckled, shaking my head in mock despair. “No, I will literally eat shit if I even step on a skateboard,” I replied, recalling the numerous falls and nosedives I'd experienced whenever I tried skating.

Chris chuckled, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Not if I'm there, you won’t,” he said confidently. “I'll make sure you won't eat shit the entire time.”

I rolled my eyes but there was a hint of a smile on my face. “Oh really? And how are you gonna manage that, huh? Gonna hold my hand the entire time?”

Chris chuckled again, his grip on my shoulders tightening slightly. “I mean, if that helps, yeah,” he echoed, his tone slightly cocky yet teasing. “I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you don't fall on your face.”

I laughed, shaking my head at his confidence. “And what if I fall anyway, even with you holding my hand?”

Chris smirked, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “I'll fall with you,” he replied, his voice filled with playful nonchalance. “That way, your fall will be less embarrassing if I'm there to share the humiliation.”

I chuckled, the mental image of us both falling in a heap on the ground making me laugh even more. “Oh, how generous of you,” I quipped, a sarcastic tone in my voice. “Taking one for the team, huh? What a gentleman.”

Chris chuckled, pushing himself up to his feet and holding out a hand to help me up. “C'mon, let's give it a shot. You never know, you might actually enjoy it.”

I hesitated for a moment, eyeing the skateboard with trepidation. But then I took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. “If I end up looking like a complete fool, I’m blaming you,” I warned jokingly, bracing myself.

Chris smiled, his grip on my hand firm and steady. “You won't look like a fool, I promise,” he assured me, his voice filled with confidence. “And if you do, I’m right there with you. Now, let's see if you can stand on the board without falling over.”

I took a deep breath and stepped onto the skateboard, gripping his hand tightly for balance. My legs immediately felt wobbly and unbalanced, but Chris held onto me, helping me to stay upright.

“I feel like I’m gonna fall any second,” I muttered, my voice laced with uncertainty. Chris chuckled, his hand still firmly supporting me. “Just take a deep breath and relax. I’ve got you.”

Following his instructions, I took a slow, measured breath, trying to calm my nerves a bit. The skateboard wobbled beneath me, but Chris's grip on my hand never wavered, keeping me from falling.

“That's it,” Chris encouraged, a hint of pride in his voice. “Just focus on keep your balance.” I took another deep breath, trying to convince myself that I could do this. The board beneath me felt unsteady, but I didn’t fall.

“You're doing great,” Chris praised, his voice gentle and encouraging. “Now, try to push yourself forwards with your other foot.”

I timidly lifted my other foot and pushed off the ground, causing the board to move slowly forward. I instantly felt my balance falter, but Chris's steady grip on my hand kept me from falling off.

“That’s it! You're doing it!” Chris exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement. “Just keep going, you're doing great.”

I kept pushing myself forward, the board moving a bit faster now. My heart was racing, but I also felt a strange sense of exhilaration.

“Okay, now try to turn slightly,” Chris instructed, his voice still filled with encouragement. “Just lean gently on your toes and we'll make a small turn.”

I obeyed his instructions, leaning slightly onto my toes and feeling the board respond, veering to the side slightly. The movement felt foreign and unnatural, but at the same time, it was strangely thrilling.

“Perfect!” Chris praised, his grip on my hand still secure. “You're a natural. Let's try it again, but a bit more this time.”

I nodded, gathering my courage and pushing off again. This time, I leaned a bit more heavily onto my toes, and the board turned more sharply, the movement feeling both terrifying and liberating.

“Nice!” Chris exclaimed, his voice filled with admiration. “You're catching on quick. Let's pick up the speed a bit, see how it feels.”

I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves as I pushed off a bit harder, sending the board speeding ahead a bit faster than before. The wind rushed past me, and the feeling was both terrifying and electrifying.

Chris chuckled, his grip on my hand steady as ever. “Alright, now that we're going a bit faster, let's learn how to stop,” he said, his voice calm and composed. “You're gonna have to push down on the back of the board, kinda like you're stomping on it.”

“Sort of,” Chris explained, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You don’t have to stomp, more like a gentle but firm pressure. Here, let me show you.”

He demonstrated, pushing down on the back of the board with his foot, causing it to slow down almost instantly.

“See? It's like a brake. Gentle enough to slow you down, but strong enough to stop you completely.” I watched closely, mentally noting the way his foot shifted, applying pressure to the tail of the board.

“Now, you try it,” he encouraged, his grip on my hand still anchoring me. I swallowed my fear and mimicked the motion, pressing down gently on the back of the board. Sure enough, the skateboard started to slow down, eventually coming to a gradual stop.

“Good job!” Chris praised, looking genuinely impressed. “See? You’re a natural at this. Soon enough you'll be doing tricks in no time.”

I chuckled, my heart still racing from the adrenaline rush. “Don't get ahead of yourself. I’ve barely managed to stand on the board without eating shit.”

Chris chuckled, amused by my self-deprecating remark. “Okay, I think you've got the hang of it enough to try without me holding your hand now,” he said, his voice soft yet confident. “Don’t worry, I’m right here if you start to lose balance.”

Chris gripped my hand tight, giving me a reassuring nod. “Okay, I'm gonna give you a little push to start moving and then let go, alright?” he said. “Just focus on keeping your balance and push off when you feel steady.”

I nodded, taking a few deep breaths to steady my nerves. Chris then began jogging, slowly increasing the speed as he pulled me along. Then, without warning, he released my hand, letting me glide forward on my own.

Despite the initial shock of losing Chris's support, I managed to maintain my balance, the skateboard responding to my every slight shift in weight. A small, tentative smile played on my face as I cruised across the skatepark, the wind rushing past me and the board rolling smoothly beneath my feet.

“I'm doing it!” I exclaimed, a hint of surprise in my voice. “I'm actually doing it!” Chris jogged alongside me, a proud smile on his face. “I told you, you could do it,” he called out, matching my pace.

Emboldened by my success, I decided to test my newfound skill. I gently applied pressure to the back of the board, just as Chris had taught me. The skateboard slowed down gradually, and eventually came to a smooth stop. I let out an elated laugh, feeling an incredible sense of accomplishment.

“Look at you, pro skateboarder in the making!” Chris teased, his eyes sparkling with genuine pride. “I guess I’m a pretty good teacher, huh?”

I laughed, my cheeks feeling flushed from the thrill of victory. “Yeah, yeah, don’t pat yourself on the back too hard,” I retorted, the sarcasm in my voice contradicted by the wide smile on my face.

Chris chuckled, his own smile matching mine. “Hey, I’ll take compliment where I can get it,” he joked, shrugging his shoulders. “You know you couldn’t have done it without me.”

I stepped off the skateboard, the rush of adrenaline still coursing through my veins. I approached Chris, a mixture of excitement and gratitude evident in my expression. Without a word, I wrapped my arms around him, giving him a tight hug.

“Thank you,” I murmured against his chest, my voice filled with genuine appreciation.

Suddenly, Chris picked me up into his arms, an unexpected move that left me laughing in surprise. He then hopped back onto the skateboard, placing me in front of him on the deck.

“Hang on tight,” he warned, his voice laced with mischief.

I laughed, clutching onto his forearms as he propelled us forward with skilled movements of his feet. The wind whipped through my hair and adrenaline coursed through my veins as he navigated the skatepark, expertly maneuvering around obstacles and even going over small ramps.

“This is crazy!” I exclaimed, my heart racing with both excitement and a hint of fear. Chris chuckled, tightening his grip around my waist. “Just enjoy the ride,” he replied, his voice filled with carefree confidence.

I closed my eyes, allowing myself to fully immerse myself in the experience. The wind rushed past us, the hum of the wheels underneath us like a steady, thrumming heartbeat. The fear was there, lingering in the back of my mind, but it was overshadowed by the sense of freedom and happiness that came with trusting Chris and allowing myself to just be in the moment.

In a moment, the exhilarating ride took a sudden turn. A rock or pebble had gotten stuck between the wheels, causing the skateboard to jerk violently and send us both careening to the ground.

I heard Chris yell out “Shit!” as we toppled over, and he instinctively covered my head, protecting me from the brunt of the fall. We hit the ground with a hard thud, the skateboard clattering a few feet away from us.

I felt the impact as we hit the ground, the fall taking the wind out of me. Chris's body landed on top of mine, and I let out a small groan of surprise and pain.

For a moment, we lay there motionless, both stunned by the unexpected fall. Then, I felt Chris begin to chuckle against my shoulder, his body shaking slightly.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice filled with laughter and concern. He pushed himself up onto his forearms, looking down at me with a sheepish grin.

“That was a bit of a rough landing, huh?” I managed to croak out between deep breaths, my body starting to throb with the first signs of a forming bruise.

His laughter continued, the sound muffled as he buried his head back into my shoulder. I instinctively tangled my fingers into his hair, the feeling of his soft locks providing me some strange comfort amidst the pain and the laughter.

I joined in, the absurdity of the situation and the relief that we weren't seriously injured propelling me into a bout of laughter.

Chris lifted himself slightly, propping himself up on his forearms to hover above me. He was grinning, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of mirth and affection. As he spoke, the words coming out with a hint of smugness, I couldn't help but feel my heart skip a beat, my hands still buried in his silky hair.

“See? I told you I'd fall with you,” he teased, his voice filled with laughter.

“You always have to prove yourself right, huh?” I managed to say, my voice a bit breathless. My fingers traced a path from his hair down to his cheek, the touch soft yet intimate.

He chuckled again, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. He was so close, so tantalizingly near, and yet still just a breath's distance away.

“Of course I do,” he retorted, his gaze never leaving mine. “Can't let you doubt my words, after all.”

There was something in his eyes, a mixture of playfulness and something deeper that I couldn't quite put my finger on. My fingers lingered on his cheek, the heat of his skin against mine making it hard to think straight.

“You're insufferable,” I muttered, the words coming out as a tease, but my voice betraying the tenderness I felt.

His smile widened, his face so close now that I could feel his warm breath against my skin. My heart was racing, the proximity between us sending tingles down my spine. I could feel the tension, the almost magnetic pull drawing us closer together.

“But you like it,” he countered, a hint of slyness in his voice. His eyes flicked down to my lips, just for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to make my heart flutter.

I swallowed, the words stuck in my throat as I tried to come up with a witty retort. But the closeness, the way he looked at me, the warmth of his body just a tantalizing distance away, it was all too distracting.

The admission escaped my lips in a whisper that was barely audible, the words soft and filled with an honesty I couldn't hide.

“I do,” I confessed, my voice a mere breath of sound. “It's one of my favorite things about you.”

Before I could second-guess myself, I cupped the sides of his face, and gently pulled him closer until our lips met in a deep, passionate kiss.

His lips were soft, warm, and moved against mine with a familiar ease. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as I responded with equal fervor and need. The kiss was tender and hungry at the same time, a mixture of passion and longing spilling into our connection.

I could feel the heat spreading through me, my pulse racing and my heart skipping a beat with every second our lips touched. The world around us faded away, leaving only the sensation of him and me, our bodies fitted together in this stolen moment.

The kiss deepened, our mouths molding together in a perfect fit. His body shifted, and I felt him prop himself up a bit, bracing himself on one arm, his other hand coming to rest on the side of my neck. The change in position brought him even closer, our faces a mere breath apart.

I felt the heat of his body hovering just above mine, the press of his weight against me sending my senses into overdrive.

With a final, lingering nip at my lips, he pulled back, leaving me breathless and wanting more. He stayed close, his forehead pressing against mine, the intimacy of the gesture making my heart flutter. I could feel the heat of his breath against my skin, his face so close that I could count each individual freckle strewn across his nose.

A cheeky smile played on his lips, the kind that was both infuriating and endearing.

I was still reeling from the kiss, my brain struggling to catch up to the rollercoaster of emotions. I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze, and managed to ask, “What?”

He chuckled, the sound low and deep. “Never thought our first kiss would be us laying on a skatepark concrete floor after we just fell,” he replied, that same cheeky grin on his face.

His words sent a wave of amusement through me, and I laughed, shaking my head at his audacity. “Shut up,” I playfully berated him, my hand clenching on his shirt.

Without giving him a chance to retaliate, I pulled him back in, capturing his lips in another kiss, this one a mix of passion and playful irritation. My free hand came up to cradle his cheek, the touch both possessive and achingly affectionate.

He responded instantly, his lips moving against mine with a fervor that matched my own. His tongue teased the seam of my mouth, asking for entry, and I granted it without hesitation. The kiss was a battle and a union, a messy, heated exchange of feelings that was both familiar and new.

His fingers pressed into my skin, anchoring himself to me as if he was afraid I'd pull away too soon. The world faded away, leaving nothing but the heat of his body and the taste of his lips.

I lost myself in the kiss, my fingers tangling in his hair again, pulling him closer, wanting every inch of him near me. My body was aflame, a thousand tiny sparks dancing along my nerve endings. Each touch, each press of his lips, was a promise and a plea all in one.

I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that, drowning in each other, time ceasing to exist. But eventually, reluctantly, we had to break apart to gasp for air.

He pulled back slightly, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The flush on his cheeks mirrored my own, his lips still a touch swollen from our kiss.

As soon as we both caught our breath, he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion, “How about some ice cream right now?”

I nodded, a wide smile breaking across my face. The idea of ice cream seemed like the perfect cap to this whirlwind of a day.

Chris pushed himself up, a mischievous glint in his eye. Then, he held out a hand for me to take, offering to help me up.

I took his hand, feeling the strength and warmth in his grip. He pulled me up effortlessly, and I found myself stumbling into him as my legs, wobbly from the fall and the kiss, protested against bearing my weight.

He caught me, wrapping an arm around my waist to steady me. I chuckled, leaning into him, the intimacy of the moment making my heart flutter.

He chuckled at my wobbly attempt to stand and held me firmly against him. I clutched onto him, feeling the heat of his body against mine, a stark contrast to the cool air around us.

“C'mon,” he said, a hint of laughter still in his voice. “Let's get you some ice cream.” He grabbed his skateboard with one hand and held my hand with the other, intertwining our fingers together.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

We ended up at a nearby ice cream parlor, the small, cozy interior providing a nice change from the skatepark. We settled into a booth, the soft, padded seats feeling luxurious after our hard fall.

Chris sat across from me, his skateboard propped up against the side of the booth, his foot tapping an erratic rhythm as he idly licked at his ice cream cone.

As he was lost in thought, he continued to absentmindedly lick away at his ice cream. And then, with a sudden jerk of his cone, a small drop of the cold treat landed right on the bridge of his nose.

I couldn't help but let out a laugh, the sight of him with ice cream on his nose both hilarious and ridiculously endearing. Without thinking, I reached across the table with a napkin and gently wiped the ice cream away.

He looked up at me when he felt the touch of the napkin on his face, a mix of surprise and amusement in his eyes. “What?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“You had ice cream on your nose,” I replied, still chuckling. “You're such a messy eater.”

As I sat there, watching him, a wave of comfort and familiarity washed over me. Growing up with Chris meant that we’d shared countless moments and created endless memories together. Though our friendship had evolved, one thing remained constant — the ease and freedom I felt in his presence.

I realized how much I’d grown to love our time together, the way he could make me laugh or the way he always seemed to know exactly what I needed, even before I did. The words “best friend” didn't quite cover the depth of my feelings anymore.

I couldn't help but admire him — his messy hair, the twinkle in his eyes, and the carefree smile that always seemed to light up his face. He was more than just a friend now; he was someone who made my heart race, who inspired both laughter and frustration, who brought out emotions and feelings in me that I couldn’t deny.

All I wanted was to be next to him, to share more moments like these — simple, mundane, yet incredibly special. He made me feel safe, carefree, and so very alive.

I silently pondered to myself, realizing a profound truth — Chris had become my drug. It wasn't the kind of addiction that was dangerous or harmful, but a beautiful one that made me feel more alive than ever before.

His presence, his touch, his laugh, his everything — it was a high that I couldn't, and didn't want to, come down from. He was my vice, my solace, my source of happiness, and I craved him more with each passing day.

The thought of being without him, of not having him by my side, felt like an unbearable withdrawal. I didn't want to be cured of this drug, I wanted to be more addicted, more attached, to have our lives so intertwined that the thought of separation was simply unthinkable.

As I watched him casually lick the ice cream cone, totally oblivious to the depth of my thoughts, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was the best kind of drug. The kind that made life sweeter, brighter, and more vibrant than ever before. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The sweetness of the ice cream seemed to pale in comparison to the sugary rush he provided. My heart raced just looking at him, my gaze tracing over his features, each one so familiar yet still so captivating.

“Chris,” I murmured, not even realizing I'd spoken out loud until the single word slipped past my lips, like a prayer or a promise.

He looked up, eyebrows raised quizzically, a drop of melted ice cream hovering on his bottom lip. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice soft, yet laced with a hint of amusement.

I hesitated for a moment, the words I wanted to say stuck in my throat. How could I possibly explain the depths of what I was feeling? How could I put into words the mixture of happiness, fear, hope, and desire that he had awakened in me?

Finally, I sighed, settling back in my seat, knowing that I couldn’t yet tell him everything that was on my mind. “Nothing,” I said with a small smile. “Just enjoying the ice cream, that's all.”

He laughed at my response, a low, easy sound that sent a pleasant shiver down my spine. He was so comfortable, so natural, and yet somehow he was still managing to make my heart flutter just by existing.

He leaned back, mirroring my pose, his eyes never leaving mine. “You sure about that?” he teased, his voice laced with skepticism.

I averted my gaze, my cheeks flushing under his observant eyes. He could always see right through me, even the things I didn't want him to see.

“Yeah, I'm sure,” I replied, my voice a bit too brisk. “Just enjoying the ice cream.” I took a large bite, as if to prove my point, hoping he wouldn't press any further.

He didn't reply immediately, letting the silence stretch between us as he observed me quietly. Even without looking at him, I could feel his gaze on me, intense and curious.

After a long beat, he chuckled, the sound as addictive as his presence. “You know, you were never a very good liar,” he finally pointed out, the statement both teasing and serious.

I groaned, the sound an admittance of defeat. He was right, of course. Lying to him, especially about something this monumental, was futile. He knew me too well, understood the way I moved, and could read my emotions like a book.

“Fine,” I relented, meeting his gaze once more. “It's not just the ice cream I'm enjoying.”

His eyes widened slightly at my confession, the surprise apparent in them for a brief moment before it was replaced by a mixture of curiosity and satisfaction.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table, his focus zeroing in on me again. “What else are you enjoying, then?” he asked, his voice a little lower, more intimate.

I swallowed, my heart skipping a beat at his proximity. His question, the way he was looking at me now, it made it seem like he already knew the answer but wanted to hear me say it anyway.

“You,” I said quietly, the word slipping out before I could stop it. “I'm enjoying you.”

His reaction was immediate and visceral. His eyes widened, the surprise evident in them before it was replaced by a look of pure, undisguised joy.

A slow, wide smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, “Is that so?” he asked, his voice tinged with satisfaction and something else, something deeper that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I nodded, my courage growing with his reaction. Seeing him so happy, so clearly thrilled with my admission, made it easier to keep speaking my mind.

“Yes,” I confirmed, my own smile mirroring his. “You're the best part of my day, Chris. Always have been.”

He stared at me, the intensity of his gaze making me feel both vulnerable and safe at the same time. He seemed to be processing my words, each one sinking in and being stored away in his memory.

Finally, he spoke, his voice gruff but filled with a raw honesty that sent a shiver down my spine. “You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that,” he said, his eyes locked on mine.

“I mean it,” I said, my voice quieter now, a little shaky. “You're everything I want, everything I need.”

The words hung between us, heavy with the truth they held. In that moment, I felt the weight of our history, the long years of friendship that had led to this point. He was my best friend, but he was also so much more.

He reached across the table, grabbing my hand in his, his fingers lacing through mine. His grip was firm, but it was also warm, his thumb rubbing small, gentle circles over the back of my hand.

He didn't speak for a few moments, seemingly lost in thought, before he finally murmured, “I think I need you more than you need me.”

The simple declaration pierced my heart, my breath catching in my throat. It was as if he had seen straight into my soul and was now reading my unspoken thoughts out loud.

“That's not true,” I protested, my voice a mere whisper. “It's me who needs you.”

I tightened my grip on his hand, needing the physical touch to ground me. My heart was beating wildly in my chest, each thump a reminder of the emotions coursing through me.

“You've done so much for me,” I said, my voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “You've helped me more than you know. My mind, Chris...it's always been filled with you.”

He looked at me, his eyes studying my expression intently. I could see the disbelief and disbelief warring within him, as if he was struggling to believe what he was hearing.

“Always?” he echoed, the word coming out almost reverently. “You've always thought about me?”

I nodded, the confession spilling out of me now. “Always,” I whispered, my voice a little shakier. “Whenever things go wrong, when I need an escape, you're the first thing — the only thing — I think of. It's always been you.”

His eyes widened at my words, the gravity of them seemingly sinking in. I could see the emotions flickering across his face — shock, surprise, happiness, but also a hint of guilt.

“I had no idea,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn't know I meant so much to you.”

He chuckled, a bitter, self-deprecating sound. “I’m just a dumb skater with no future,” he echoed, his voice low and laced with a hint of insecurity.

I instantly shook my head, my grip on his hand strengthening. “No,” I said firmly, my tone unyielding. “You're so much more than that, Chris. You're a life saver, someone who's always been there for me no matter what.”

I could see the doubt in his eyes, as if he still couldn't quite believe me. He was so used to thinking of himself, to dismissing his own value.

“I'm serious,” I pressed on, refusing to let him undermine his own worth. “You might think you're just a skater, but you're my best friend, my rock, the one person I can always count on. That's worth more than any future or career.”

He was silent for a moment, seeming lost in thought. I could see the wheels turning in his mind, as if he was processing my words and trying to accept them.

Finally, he sighed, his gaze meeting mine once more. “You make me sound like a superhero or something,” he joked, though his voice still held a note of vulnerability.

I let out a soft, amused chuckle. “Not a superhero,” I corrected, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Just a regular guy who's too stubborn to accept how important he is.”

Chris let out a soft, amused chuckle. “Alright, alright,” he said, his tone lighthearted but carrying a note of seriousness. “Let’s get you back home. You gotta start packing”

I nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment that our time together was coming to an end. But I knew he was right — it was getting late, and I had a lot to do before tomorrow.

I started to slide out of the booth, my legs a little wobbly from the emotional roller coaster of the evening.

We exited the ice cream parlor, the cool night air hitting us like a wave. Chris held the door open for me, his hand resting on the small of my back us he guided me outside.

The walk back to my house was quiet, the only sound in the deserted street the soft crunch of gravel under our feet. We didn't speak, the silence between us comfortable and familiar.

Every now and then, I would steal a glance at Chris. He seemed lost in thought, his eyes fixed on the darkened street ahead. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but I knew better than to interrupt his musing.

Instead, I focused on the closeness between us — the way his fingers occasionally brushed against my arm, the way his shoulder would graze mine as we walked. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes.

As we drew closer to my house, the silence broke as Chris spoke, his voice soft in the quiet night. “You nervous about tomorrow?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes full of concern.

I nodded, a wave of anxiety suddenly washing over me. The thought of my parents' reaction had been lingering in the back of my mind all evening, but I hadn't allowed myself to dwell on it too much.

“Yeah,” I admitted, my voice a little shaky. “I'm just worried about what they'll say.”

Chris stopped walking, causing me to halt as well. He turned to face me, his eyes meeting mine in the dim light.

“You know, you don't have to do everything your parents want,” he said, his voice firm. “You're old enough to make your own choices. You don't deserve to live in a household that makes you unhappy.”

I stared at him, his words hitting me hard. He was echoing a thought that had been forming in the back of my mind for so long, but I had never allowed myself to acknowledge it, let alone act on it.

“I know…but they're my parents,” I protested, the words sounding weak even to my ears.

He let out a huff of frustration. “Just because they're your parents doesn't mean they get to control your life,” he retorted, his voice a little sharper now. “If they don't care about your happiness, then why should you care about their opinions?”

His words stung but also awakened something within me. I was so used to living my life according to my parents' expectations, trying to please them, that I had almost forgotten about my own happiness.

He must have seen the doubt in my eyes, because his expression softened as he continued. “You deserve to be happy, Y/N,” he said, his voice gentle now. “You don't have to sacrifice your dreams and desires for someone else's vision of your life.”

He took a step closer, closing the distance between us. “Come on,” he urged, his voice low and earnest. “Move in with us. You'll see how it feels to be free, to make your own choices and create your own happiness.”

I stared at his outstretched hand, my heart racing in my chest. This was it — a choice, a decision that would change everything. I took a deep breath, steeling my courage, before reaching out and placing my hand in his.

The moment our fingers touched, a jolt of electricity seemed to pass between us. It was a silent agreement, a pact sealed with a simple gesture.

I was choosing my own happiness, choosing him.

We walked the rest of the way in silence, our hands still intertwined. The quiet of the night was interrupted only by the soft crunch of gravel under our feet and the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

I stole a glance at Chris, who was staring straight ahead, his profile illuminated by the dim moonlight. His face was set in a serious expression, but his grip on my hand was warm and firm, a silent reassurance that I wasn't alone in this.

We stopped in front of my porch, the light from the house casting a soft golden glow on our faces. Chris turned to me, his eyes meeting mine in the semi-darkness.

“I'll be here in the morning with Matt,” he said, his voice a whisper. “Just pack some clothes and whatever you need. We can go shopping for whatever you’re missing.”

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. This was really happening.

He leaned down, his hand moving behind my back to pull me closer. Our eyes met, a silent moment of connection, before he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine in a soft, chaste kiss.

My hand came up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my palm. I let the moment stretch on, savoring the feeling of his body pressed against mine.

Chris stepped back, giving me one last, lingering look before he turned and made his way down the street.

I watched him go for a moment, the sound of his skateboard wheels against the pavement echoing in the quiet night air. Then I turned and quietly made my way inside, my mind already racing.

With a sense of determination, I headed straight upstairs to my room, focusing on the task at hand. Packing.

➤ A/N: Long story sorry!! (took me 4 days to finish)

➤ TAGS: @st6rify ✮⋆˙ @jetaimevous ✮⋆˙ @certifiedstarrr ✮⋆˙ @slvtf0rchr1s ✮⋆˙

── .✦ MASTER—LIST ⭑𓂃 | PART 2 HERE ! <soon

[arilevenatz]

Masterlist

🪻 Hii! Im Leven! I'm a writer who has previously written some stuff on YouTube but now I'm on Tumblr.

🫧 INFJ | Studying psychology 🥼 | Asian

🍧 Atz, Svt, Kiof, Njz, Itzy, Zb1

🌸 I respect people so I expect you to respect my boundaries as well. Please DNI if you stan lsf, illit and skz (currents are fine! 🩷) I'm very cautious about not interfering myself with their fans. Please do respect my choice!!

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- Ironheart

Captain!hongjoong x reader

Our captain is a ruthless man. And he needs ruthless weapons to remain the king of the seven seas. And it's a bonus that he becomes obsessed with the strongest soldier of the king

- Royally Bound

Prince!Seonghwa x reader

You were always treated like a shadow in the house. Being the youngest, nobody listened to you. And you slowly stopped caring. So much so that when you were arranged to marry the Prince, you didn't care. But he was quite the opposite of what you thought he would be like.

- Unscripted

Idol!Yunho x idol!Reader

Yunho was known for his sick performances and beautiful vocals. He also adored his juniors. But when a certain unique group debuted with a certain unique member, that adoration turned into something more. And when he realised that she was a fan of ATEEZ, he was over the moon.

- Chasing Shadows

Popular boy!yeosang x chubby!reader

You are an average student trying to live through college. Trying to gain as little attention as you can. But the world said fuck you and you caught the eye of one of the popular guys. And he makes it so obvious that he's attracted to you

- Ideal Trip

San x reader

You were visiting a school to give a mock test. You weren't expecting to get teleported in a parallel universe where black monsters chase you down. And surely you weren't expecting to find a man lost in that realm using you as a key for his escape

- By Her Side

Bodyguard!Mingi x princess!Reader

Mingi has been with you since you were ten. Growing up with people always reminding you that you're a princess made you overstimulated. But when Mingi came along, you realised that you can be a carefree child again. Why? Cause Mingi was there to take care of everything!

- Heart At Sea

Pirate!Wooyoung x reader

Wooyoung was always the light of the ship. He was the man who made everyone chuckle after they had a bad day. So when he came across a girl who was even more of a sunshine than him, he felt something he never felt. But then he uncovered her past, and that unleashed the protector woo in him.

- You are

Pirate!jongho x town girl!reader

Running into men while completing erands was not rare for you. But what happens when the man who you ran into is the very man who saves you after being kidnapped by loan sharks?

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I write sfw (for now) and probably will write that for a while before anything too flashy. I only write with female pronouns. Don't feel pressured to ask me anything!

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There are a few things and tropes I don't write or just simply can't write. As I'm exploring more prompts and understanding concepts, please understand that if u request anything and if I don't feel comfortable writing it, I'll probably ignore it or just don't write it. Please understand that, I have my own boundaries as well ❤️‍🩹

[pink-sparkly-witch]

Girls Night

Summary: Jensen’s girlfriend comes home a bit drunk after a girls night and tries to seduce him.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, implied sexy times to come.

Words: 0.7k

A/N: I’m so proud that I set out to drabble and succeeded! 🥳 I’m a wordy bitch, so usually, when I set out to drabble, I fail epically 😅 All mistakes are my own.

Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM. 💖

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“It’s been far too long since we last did this!” you declare, slamming another empty shot glass onto the wooden table.

“I know! And we say this every time, but we shouldn’t leave it so long next time,” Fiona shivers violently at the aftertaste of the tequila.

“Well,” Robin smirks, “if y’all put hoes before bros every now and then, we’d see each other a lot more often!”

“Excuse you,” you feign outrage. “If I remember right, you,” you point your finger for good measure, “are the one who didn’t come last time so you could ‘Netflix and Chill’ with Scott. I hadn’t seen Jensen in six weeks, and I came!”

“Oh, I came, alright!” Robin grins when you and your closest friends descend into laughter.

The familiar intro of Lionel Richie’s “Dancing on the Ceiling” begins, and you and the girls quickly make your way onto the dance floor. 

You spend the rest of the night cutting your best moves, singing at the top of your lungs and drinking tequila.

Walking into the hallway with your heels in your hand, you try to be as quiet as possible. Jensen has been working hard at the brewery and had been learning a script for a movie that starts shooting next week, so you knew he was likely sleeping at this late hour.

You carefully hold onto the handrail and climb the stairs, shushing your shoes every time the heel hits the wooden rail. 

Once at the top of the stairs, you frown when you see the bedroom light still on. You walk with heavy feet towards the door, peeking your head through the gap.

“Hey, baby,” Jensen smiles as he looks up at you. “Did you have a good time?”

“It was the best! We drank and talked and danced and drank. Did I already say that part? I think I already said that part. Anyway, we danced and sang. My throat will hurt tomorrow,” you stumble over to the bathroom and drop your shoes haphazardly on the floor. “But it was worth it,” you giggle.

“I’m glad,” Jensen grins. He always says you’re adorable when you’re drunk. Always so happy and carefree.

“What are you doing still up?” you ask.

“Gotta learn this script, baby. I’ve put it off too long,” he rubs at his tired eyes and smiles wide as you leave the bathroom in your underwear. “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

You climb on the bed—surprisingly gracefully, given your drunken state—and crawl up Jensen’s body. Straddling his waist, you run your hands under his shirt and up his stomach and grin as you feel his muscles twitch under your touch.

“Been thinking about you all night, Jensen. How much I wanted to be here with you, how you make me feel. I want you so bad, baby.”

“As much as I wanna say yes, baby girl, you’re too drunk,” Jensen says as his hands slide up your thighs.

“I’m not that drunk,” you pout more than complain.

“Even so, I think it’s best we just cuddle,” Jensen soothes.

“Ugh, fine!” you huff, throwing yourself off his lap and onto the bed. “But I want your A-game tomorrow!”

“When have I ever not brought my A-game?” Jensen laughs as you pull at the bed covers and ungracefully try to get into bed.

“Uhm, when I wore that dress to the 300th episode party? You barely lasted ten seconds!” you laugh.

“Excuse me! You looked really fucking hot that night! You knew I’d been ready for you since you’d stepped out of the hotel bathroom wearing that thing! And I made it up to you!”

“Yeah, you did!” you giggle. “Alright,” you say as you finally tuck yourself under the duvet. “What about the thirty second fumble on Jared’s boat?”

“Really? You really want me to explain to you how incredibly sexy it was rubbing sun tan lotion all over you and the idea that anyone could have seen me fucking you that day?”

“Okay, I’ll give you that one too,” you yawn and lie down, shuffling into his side and twisting your legs around his. “Just promise me you’ll bring you’re A-game in the morning.”

Snuggling further into him, you lay your head on his chest and your hand on his collarbone. Jensen wraps an arm around your shoulders and pushes the script he was reading to the floor.

“I promise. Good night, baby, I love you,” he chuckles softly as the heavy breathing tells him you’ve fallen asleep.

“Not that drunk, my ass!” he whispers as he kisses your head and turns out the bedside lamp.

Tags: @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles  @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

[countessdaydream]

Dating a Marine - Luffy x black!Reader

Dating Monkey D. Luffy, the fifth Emperor of the Sea and future Pirate King, while being Vice Admiral Y/n of the Marines? Now that’s a relationship that’s both interesting and complicated.

How did it begin? Well, for the rest of the world, it’s a mystery. For you two, it’s a simple story, but one filled with secrets, adventure, and a whole lot of craziness.

A Typical Day:

Your usual routine back then was nothing extraordinary. Wake up, eat a “special breakfast” cooked by your teacher, train until the sun sets, complete missions when needed, shower, eat again (assuming you don’t pass out from exhaustion), rinse and repeat. The day was pretty predictable—until today.

Today, your teacher gave you a break from your grueling schedule or given an assignment with other navy officers. It seemed like it would be a quiet, relaxing day—until Luffy walked into the picture.

How It All Began:

You’d set off on your usual solo exploration of the island, excited to stretch your legs after weeks of missions and paperwork. You loved finding hidden spots—those places where you could get away from the uniform, the structure, and just enjoy the freedom of being out in nature.

As you wandered deeper into the forest, you stumbled across a clearing. And in that clearing was a group of pirates, one of whom was sitting up in a tree, eating an entire watermelon like it was an everyday snack. You were about to back away, thinking you’d be better off not getting involved, when the pirate in the tree spotted you.

“Well, well! A Marine!” Luffy grinned, his eyes lighting up as he jumped down to land in front of you with way too much enthusiasm. “You’re not gonna arrest me, are you?” he asked, completely unbothered by your uniform.

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by how carefree he seemed. “I—no. I’m just here to explore,” you muttered, trying to play it cool.

Luffy didn’t seem convinced. “But you’re a Marine, right? That means you have to catch bad guys! Are you a good Marine or a bad Marine?” His expression was full of childlike curiosity, and he looked so sincere that you almost found yourself laughing.

“I’m… a Marine,” you said, a little awkwardly. “Just here for a break. No bad guys for today.”

Luffy didn’t miss a beat. “Cool! I’m Luffy! You wanna hang out with us?” He grinned, gesturing to his crew, who seemed just as wild and carefree as he was.

You couldn’t help but feel intrigued. Here you were, a Marine, meeting one of the most notorious pirates in the world, and somehow it didn’t feel as crazy as it should have. You’d never met anyone like him before, and that was something you couldn’t deny.

“Maybe just for a bit,” you said, figuring a quick conversation wouldn’t hurt.

And just like that, Luffy’s infectious energy pulled you in, setting the stage for everything that would follow.

How You Started Dating:

So, how did the two of you go from a casual meeting to this? It wasn’t some grand confession or a dramatic, earth-shattering moment. It was more like a natural progression—Luffy’s relentless enthusiasm mixed with your quiet curiosity.

At first, it was just hanging out on the island here and there, sneaking away from your duties to explore together. But Luffy had a way of making the smallest moments feel exciting—whether it was racing through the jungle or sharing a simple meal under the stars. It was impossible to ignore the chemistry that kept growing between you two.

You didn’t want to overthink it, but it became clear pretty quickly that this wasn’t just a passing fling. There was something about Luffy—his carefree attitude, his passion for life—that made you feel like maybe you could have both worlds. The strict Marine side of you, and the adventurous spirit he brought out in you.

One evening, after a particularly fun day of exploring, Luffy had asked, “So, you wanna join my crew?” It was typical Luffy: bold and straightforward. But before you could answer, he added, “Nah, you’re way too cool for that. But if you ever want to hang out more, just say the word.”

That was it. No big declarations, no asking to be official. But when you said yes with a smile, it felt like the start of something bigger. And from that day on, you found yourselves spending more time together, talking late into the night, and finding moments where it felt like nothing else in the world mattered.

Eventually, the line between just hanging out and dating started to blur. You’d catch yourself thinking about him when you weren’t with him, and you knew he felt the same way. It wasn’t official at first, but neither of you ever really had to say it. The way he’d look at you when you weren’t paying attention, how you’d catch him sneaking glances at you with that signature grin—yeah, it was clear.

It wasn’t until a quiet evening, just the two of you under a blanket of stars, that Luffy pulled you close and said, “I think you’re my favorite person.” And you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that the feeling was mutual.

From that point on, it was no longer a secret between just the two of you—but that didn’t mean the rest of the world had to know just yet.

Keeping It Secret:

How do you manage to keep this relationship under wraps? Disguises. You came up with this idea so you wouldn’t lose your job, and so Luffy wouldn’t get chased down by Marines. With the right disguises, you could spend time together without the fear of being caught.

Luffy is terrible at keeping up with his disguise, though, so it’s mostly you covered from head to toe or changing up your hairstyle. And hey, you know how people sometimes can’t recognize someone when they change their hair? It’s like that.

Luffy loves your disguises, especially when you switch your hair up to something cool. He’ll always give you that goofy grin of his whenever you come up with a new look, and you can’t help but laugh at how seriously he takes it. You’d both joke around, calling each other silly names while you’d put together new outfits or change up your hairstyle, just to add to the fun. Sometimes, Luffy tries to dress up too, but he tends to go overboard, like wearing an absurdly large hat or putting on sunglasses that cover half his face. It’s always a mess, and it makes you laugh every time.

“Look, I’m totally incognito,” Luffy says dramatically, adjusting his oversized hat, which just about covers his whole face. You can’t stop yourself from laughing. “No one will recognize me now!”

“Uh-huh, sure,” you tease, trying to hold back your smile. “Totally not obvious, Luffy.”

But Luffy, ever the optimist, simply shrugs, grinning even wider. “I’ll still sneak up on you. Bet you won’t even see me coming!”

You roll your eyes but can’t help but laugh. “You’re impossible.”

Despite his tendency to forget the whole “secret” part, you enjoy these moments of fun with him. He makes you forget about all the rules, all the stress that comes with being in the Marines. And honestly? You’re happy for it.

Of course, while you both joke around with disguises, Luffy sometimes forgets how important it is to stay low-key. But that’s part of the charm—he’s always himself, no matter what. And as much as you try to keep a low profile, you can’t help but feel drawn to him, even in his ridiculous disguise.

Luffy’s Attitude Toward Secrecy:

Luffy’s relationship with secrecy? It’s like his relationship with Ace—he doesn’t exactly broadcast it to the world, but once he’s with you, he can’t help but act like he’s the happiest guy alive. He won’t go running around telling everyone that you’re his girlfriend, but once he sees you, he’ll acknowledge you in his usual loud, Luffy-like way.

At first, it was embarrassing when he did it in front of his crew. One moment, you’re quietly walking through a busy port, trying to blend in, and the next thing you know, Luffy’s voice rings out across the crowd. “Y/N!!” He’d shout your name, waving his arms wildly as he ran toward you. It’s impossible not to turn red as all eyes shift to you in surprise—some of his crew’s jaws dropping at the sight.

You’ve learned to cover his mouth on occasion, your hand pressed to his face in a desperate attempt to keep him quiet while you whisper, “Luffy, not here!” But of course, Luffy doesn’t seem bothered at all. He’d just look up at you with a goofy grin, unfazed. “But I’m excited to see you!” He’d say, voice muffled, but still so eager. And the worst part? You couldn’t really stay mad at him, especially when his joy is so genuine.

There are moments when you’re out in public, and you can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the whole thing is—Luffy yelling your name like you’re the only person in the world. It’s his own brand of romance, and it’s hard to stay mad when he’s so unapologetically himself.

As for flirting? Luffy doesn’t know how to do it. At all. The closest thing he can do is give you a compliment in his own blunt way, like telling you, “You’re really cool, Y/N!” or “You look strong today!” But there’s no subtlety in his approach—it’s just pure Luffy. His idea of showing affection is simple, direct, and completely unpolished. Honestly, that’s about as good as it gets with him, but in his world, it’s enough.

You’ve come to appreciate the way he loves you, even if it’s not what you’re used to. His sincerity is overwhelming in its simplicity, and at the end of the day, it’s just another thing you wouldn’t change about him.

When People Find Out:

Eventually, your secret couldn’t stay hidden forever. It all started with an innocent goodbye, as Luffy was preparing to leave after a short visit.

You were standing on the dock, your crew already ready to head out on another assignment. Luffy, ever the spontaneous one, pulled you into a tight hug before quickly planting a kiss on your cheek. Then, just as fast, he launched himself back toward his ship, shouting over his shoulder, “I’ll see you soon, Y/N!” His crew cheered and waved him off, but the awkwardness for you was just beginning.

You could feel the weight of your entire fleet’s shocked stares as you stood there, momentarily frozen. You quickly turned away, trying to hide your flustered expression. But before you could gather your thoughts, Luffy was already sailing off into the horizon.

Smoker, who had witnessed the whole interaction from a distance, kept his word and didn’t speak of it. But you could feel his judgmental eyes boring into you from behind his cigarette. His words echoed in your mind long after: “A marine dating a pirate… ridiculous.”

Your Crew’s Reaction:

Your crew? Oh, they were relentless. At first, only a handful of them suspected something was going on. They noticed the odd disappearances, the late-night absences, and how you’d always come back looking a little too happy. Once they pieced it together, they wasted no time in teasing you about it.

“Going on another ‘mission’?” one of them would wink, and you’d just sigh in response, not bothering to deny it. They respected your privacy enough to not push too much, but the teasing was never-ending.

Despite more and more people catching on, you didn’t have a major issue with it. Everyone who knew swore secrecy, and you knew you could trust them. It was a strange kind of camaraderie that you didn’t take for granted. But that didn’t mean your life was any less complicated.

The Water 7 Incident:

Then came the day when everything hit the fan. You were assigned to assist the marines on Water 7 post Enies Lobby. You knew there’d be a chance you’d encounter Luffy, but you figured it wouldn’t be so out in the open for people unaware of your relationship to see.

Boy, were you wrong.

You were among the marines preparing for the assault when you spotted Luffy in the distance. The instant he saw you, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. And of course, he couldn’t help himself.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice booming across the yard. The entire marine contingent froze, and you could feel the heat rise to your face as you quickly tried to shrink into the background. But Luffy was having none of it. He grinned wildly, walking straight toward you with no regard for the dozens of eyes now on the two of you.

“Hey, I missed you!” He threw an arm around you, pulling you into another one of those enthusiastic hugs of his, and planting a loud kiss on your forehead. The looks of utter shock from both your fellow marines and the Straw Hat crew were nearly enough to make you faint. You were thankful for the distraction of the incoming battle, but the damage had already been done.

In the midst of all the chaos, the last person you expected to witness this was none other than Luffy grandfather, Monkey D. Garp. He was standing off to the side, hands behind his back, grinning like a maniac. His booming voice broke the stunned silence:

“Well, well, well! Look at that! My grandson’s got himself a marine!”

The entire scene was a mess. The marine soldiers, especially those who hadn’t known about your relationship with Luffy, were left wide-eyed and speechless. Garp, on the other hand, just laughed, slapping you on the back like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.

“You’ve got guts, Y/N! A marine and a pirate, huh?” Garp chuckled, clearly more amused than shocked. His grin widened as he turned toward Luffy. “I’m proud of you, boy! You’ve chosen a marine as my grand daughter in law!”

You could only stand there, face burning with embarrassment as you tried to salvage whatever dignity you had left in that moment.

Luffy, ever the carefree one, laughed alongside Garp, completely unfazed by the stares or the awkwardness. He simply gave you a bright, easy grin. “You’re cool with it, right? I’m just doing what makes me happy!”

And just like that, the secret was out—officially, publicly out.

In Summary:

You two have a complicated, secret relationship, but it’s filled with adventure, laughter, and plenty of heart. Between the disguises, the teasing from your crew, and the awkward encounters with Garp, one thing is certain: Luffy and you are in this together, and there’s nothing that will stop the bond you share.