#Fake Ah Crew x reader

[madamechrissy]

Stripper! Satoru

Pairings- Stripper! Satoru x Bride! reader

Summary- You've been promised your entire life to Naoya Zenin, and now there's just one night left. Never having a choice, or any freedom, raised to be his perfect bride- your friends throw a party with the hottest male revue show there is, and that's where you meet him - Satoru.

Warnings - MDNI- Satoru is basically Magic Mike, angstyyy, explicit sex, loss of virginity, oral ( f receiving) sweet/whipped Satoru, sheltered reader, kissing, drinking, reader is engaged (arranged marriage) so morally gray but it's Naoya so fuck him, emotional asff , open end for now! (story will wrap it up) <3

This will be a FULL length multichapter fic after I finish a cpl wips, it's been eating me up to write so I want to show you at least a preview of it! tag list open for when it's released, drop a comment if you wanna get added! it's a long one <3

Stripper! Satoru who is the star of the biggest male revue in the nation, he's always showing off his well oiled, defined abs, and making every girl there feel so good. He loves watching how they tremble as they touch his abdomen, loves the way they giggle when he dances, straddling them in their chair, brushing their cheeks with his fingers, a wink that makes them melt.

Stripper! Satoru oils his toned, muscular body before each show until it's gleaming under the lights, hips undulating as he tossed that cowboy hat into the air, clad in assless chaps and a thin tie, with some black silk on his cock that shows his entire outline. And God was he packing, the other dancers of the review get the oohs and ahs, but he is always center stage and thrives in it, in the looks of everyone dying to bring him home.

Stripper! Satoru and his crew have an exclusive party tonight, for a bride to be - and she must be wealthy, because they're walking right into a mansion, dressed up as cops tonight, Satoru loves to put on a good show for these women, his white hair tucked under a police cap, as he rings the doorbell, which opens with what he assumes are the bride's friends. They're already giggling and rushing the men in, one pulls Gojo aside, whispering in his ear - 'please, make her smile tonight... she's really...' he doesn't need the rest of the answer when he sees your face, so lost and broken, and it makes him falter.

Stripper! Satoru has never seen a bride not giggling and excited, once or twice he absolutely saw them nervous or worried, some of them would want to sleep with him or the crew as their 'last night' of freedom, and most of them were usually fine giving it to them. Not Satoru however, although he has hooked up with his fair share of women, he does not sleep with brides to be, as much as they have tried, he does have a couple small boundaries and that is one.

Stripper! Satoru still gave them a good show, he still licked across their skin and let them touch his body, he put a smile on their faces, made them blush, he made them all soaking wet. But he's never encountered the sad eyes that meet his now, the nervous biting of your lower lip as you look around in utter confusion. Your friend sighs, tugging Satoru down now. 'Arranged marriage, and he's... fucking horrible. Please, help her forget for one night?' he sees now why they paid so much, it's clear your friends love you, as the lights turn off and the LEDs turn on, your face is illuminated with red light, haunting him as he almost forgets the routine.

Stripper! Satoru and the crew begin to 'pretend' to arrest you and the girls, fake handcuffs on their wrists while the men press the girls down on the chairs, beginning their 'pat down'. But as Satoru approaches you, and touches your skin with the toy, fake metal of the cuffs, you just sigh, making him pause. The music continues, but he instead gently presses you on the seat, getting on his knees now, as your eyes drink the prettiest man you've seen once he takes off those dark shades. Your breath catches when he gently brushes your hair off your shoulder, and asks - 'Are you even okay with this, sweetheart?'

Stripper! Satoru doesn't realize, you've never been asked if you're okay with anything, your whole life was just made so you can marry the leader of the Zenin clan, so that you were a pristine, perfect and untouched wife. You take a shaky breath, easing in his presence, finally having someone ask if you were okay was something you didn't even have growing up. To come from a stripper dressed like a cop was surprising, but you instantly relax, thighs spreading just a bit, which his insane blue eyes dart to. 'I'm sorry, yes, I want to, please...'

Stripper! Satoru has never felt whatever the fuck it was when he touches your skin, the sensations shooting through him, he watches goosebumps rise on your skin when his crew grabs his attention. He smiles, looking at you once more. 'I'll give you the funnest night, I promise' you giggle, you don't think you've ever giggled, nodding as he steps back, and the men play that music and rip off the fake outfits bit by bit. That's when your tummy clenches, heat pooling, watching Satoru's body revealed as he rolls his hips, and your friends all smile at you, seeing you actually happy for the first time since you heard the wedding was impending.

Stripper! Satoru is insanely talented, not just his ripped, perfect body, but how he moves it, so clearly the leader of them all, surely they all had gorgeous bodies, but something about him drew your avid attention. You get flustered and shift as you study his movements, and his eyes just won't leave yours, they kept glancing at you, a smile on plump lips while they all strip down, and then step close to each of you, you're the only one without the cuffs, they sit on your lap instead. Satoru braces his arms on either side of you, breath trailing across your neck when he dances between your thighs, abs flexing right in front of your face. Your breath dances on his skin as you nervously exhale, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

Stripper! Satoru runs the most famous male revue for a reason, he's about as charming and confident as it gets, it's enigmatic his pull, but mostly you keep looking at those eyes, getting lost in them - for a moment forgetting your wedding to Naoya tomorrow - a man you've known bits and pieces of for a long time, long enough to be terrified of him. For a moment you let go and smile nervously, you touch his slick muscles when he puts your fingers on his chest, and the laughter carries through the room. As their set ends, an entire party begins, with shots everywhere and dancing, you see your friends stealing little kisses, envying their freedom, but the blue eyed man with slicked back white hair seems to focus on you, taking your hand and bringing you into a dance then. You giggle again, shaking your head. 'I can't dance... what's your name? The real one, not the stage name' you say, looking up at him then, and he tugs you closer against him. 'It's Satoru'

Stripper! Satoru uses a stage name, but for some reason he wants you to have that name, a hand sliding down your body over your pretty white dress, addling his mind. 'Anyone can dance, you've just never tried, sweetheart' you shake your head again, but he's already moving your hips for you, turning you so that your back presses against him, and that's when he feels it, your sweet body against his making him ache in ways he hasn't in a long time. 'See, you're dancing now' you lean back against him, shutting your eyes then, just feeling him. 'My friend set you up to cheer me up, huh?' he sighs against your ear, aching to press a kiss against your neck, but knowing he shouldn't. 'You do have good friends, but I just like dancing with you'

Stripper! Satoru has you downing another shot, the atmosphere is intense- these parties get this way, frequently, another perk of being the most famous male revue was endless beautiful women, and making bank on top of it. Satoru notices the dilation of your eyes when you take one more shot, licking your lips before peering around so shyly. 'Everything okay, these parties get a little...' he's asking about you again, the mere thoughtfulness pushes you to step forward, pulling him down by the black bow tie he's got on, nothing else but a black speedo at this point, revealing the body carved out like a statue, but he lets you yank him down, eyes lowering to your lips. 'If I could, have a kiss, a real one before I... don't get a choice anymore' your whisper ends him, his heart breaking for a girl he doesn't know, even in a haze of liquor and undulating bodies, everything fades but you.

Stripper! Satoru can't help but ask in surprise - 'you've never kissed?' and you see the surprise in his eyes, you look around, the music still blaring, overwhelming your senses. 'No, never, um... I shouldn't-' Satoru breaks his own rule then, slamming his lips down on yours, your first kiss, one you will think upon when it's just that cruel man looking down at you instead. You gasp against his lips, inviting his tongue to dance inside your mouth, yours dances along his, messy and clumsy but following every movement like a dance itself. He feels it then, his cock throbbing from a kiss, you don't seem to notice or maybe don't even want to say something as it presses high up on your tummy, while his hands slip up your body, for all eyes to see. But your friends clearly are pleased- they wanted you to have one night of fun, even if it wasn't what you were 'supposed' to do.

Stripper! Satoru has you against a wall before you can blink, like a switch went off in his mind and all that turns on is you. His hands are on either side of you when he pulls back, taking a breath, cursing softly, your breasts are rising and falling as you look up at him, desire for the first time in your life overtaking you. 'Thank you, Satoru' you smile sadly, was it better to not kiss at all than to have this? 'Is it that bad, the guy?' he murmurs then, and you look down, trembling just a bit, and his instinct is to protect you when he doesn't even know you. Satoru is protective of those he loves, but this feeling makes no sense. Tears fill your eyes and you sniffle, looking away, but he tilts your chin up, swiping one off with a thumb now. 'Thank you for tonight, I see why you're so popular...' he tries to smirk then, raising a brow. 'Because I'm so sexy?' you giggle even through your tears, you've never laughed so much in your life, shaking your head, making him pout. 'You're kinda mean, you're saying I'm not?'

Stripper! Satoru is trying to tease it off, the feelings throbbing though his body, but you're too much when you say - 'no, it's because you're really something special' another tear falls despite tremulous lips, swollen from his kiss, he feels the eyes on him, this isn't what he does, never ever the bride, but it's like he can't drag himself away from your gravity. Kissing you again is too easy, lifting you like it's nothing is even easier, the way you cling to him and lose yourself as the two of you are now locked in a room is even easier. Your dress slips up your hips with a silky whisper, his big hands gripping your hips and dragging you against him, you whine out as you feel it, the sweat dripping against your skin while he barely holds it together, ignoring the fact that he knows better, forgetting that you're not his, and how badly that for some reason feels to him, while he's got your back on a bed, kissing down your breasts and tugging at your dress now.

Stripper! Satoru has his mouth devouring every pretty inch of skin you allow him to, hot and hungry while you melt under him, clothes dissolving with gentle tugs, baring you to his vision, his fingers dance across your skin like you're a canvas and they're delicate paint brushes at first, then they're more insistent, more pressure, hungrier and hungrier for you. 'Fuck, you're beautiful...' he doesn't say that either, of course he compliments, but he's never seen someone earn that title quite like you, when he frees your breasts and they gently bounce from your bra, when your nipples perk up just for his mouth to suck on. When your hands entwine in his silky white hair, and he's pulling one into his mouth, while the other hand twists your other bud taut, and your cunt starts drooling, throbbing, one that's never been touched, even by yourself. Sheltered and taught it's all terrible, your friends had shown you some things but you're mostly lost to anything Satoru is doing, just lost in how good it all feels.

Stripper! Satoru pauses for a moment, as he's licking a trail between your breasts, eyeing you under snowy lashes, watching as you breasts rise and fall. 'We should stop now, before... I can't stop' his husky declaration is filled with need, your hand rushes through his hair, taking a shaky breath and whispering - 'would you be my first?' he pulls back, terrified at the statement, his mouth wide open, he knows it's too far to do, his morals grey enough, just hovering. 'He's cruel and he's... awful to women, it won't be happy for me. I just want once, to be my choice...' Satoru swallows nervously, lifting one of your thighs now, pressing his cock against your heat, watching your head fall back. 'You're really stuck in this? there's no way to get out of it?' you shake your head, trying to focus as your body responds to him. 'N-no, there's no way, y-you don't have to just I-' he moans then, internally cursing himself, because he's already intoxicated off you. 'Your choice' he repeats softly, you nod quickly, taking shaky breaths and gripping his shoulders. 'My choice'

Stripper! Satoru has his long pink tongue slipping across your panties, hot and wet against your cunt, the material pressed tighter and tighter, you're whining out, uncaring of any noise you make, the first time any one has touched you and it's with his mouth. Satoru moans against you, vibrations making your cunt throb when he yanks your panties to the side, baring your perfect, pretty pussy to his hungry gaze, glistening already with your slick. You cry out now, hips raising up for more, when he places a lewd kiss on it, honeyed arousal pouring from your little hole. You should be more nervous right? Afraid of a stranger seeing you? But you're not, you're so ready the moment his mouth latches you're screaming out, hips bucking, whining out at how good it feels.

Stripper! Satoru loses it once he tastes you, those panties slipped down your thighs, torn between leisurely teasing you and straight up devouring you. He opts for the latter, slipping panties down your thighs and gripping you by the fat of your ass, bringing your cunt flush so he can bury himself. He drowns in your cunt as his tongue lavished your walls, while you are rolling your eyes back, breaths coming in little pants while he licks every part of you, tastebuds soaking in your flavor. He has you falling apart under him in moments, your gummy little walls gripping his wet muscle, feeling you tremble underneath him as your first orgasm rocks you so hard you can't see.

Stripper! Satoru presses one more kiss, leaning over you and slipping down that thin satin layer between you, revealing a thick, long cock, you gasp when you see how huge it is, for one moment wondering how it would fit, when he kisses you so messy and desperate, hot heavy cock slapping your skin. 'Satoru!' Your cry makes him leak precum against your inner thigh, as he looks down at you, sighing. 'Are you sure, sweets? We can stop here' again, he gives you the choice, despite speaking through gritted teeth, as if he's in pain, holding his breath and just watching you. You shock him then, hand sliding down to touch his cock, a featherlight brush that almost makes him cum, eyes meeting his now. 'I want it, please'

Stripper! Satoru isn't going to turn down your sweet plea, your desperate ask under him, asking him to take something so special, but he understands you, he knows you need to have a choice without even knowing you. He kisses you then, more intimate in moments than he has been with women before ever. His cock teases and dips against your soppy little hole then, pressing slightly and feeling your tight resistance, moaning as he does. 'It will hurt just a sec, okay sweetheart?' You nod then, and the pain hits, sharp and sweet and addictive, he pauses, letting you adjust, trying not to bust from how fucking right you feel, how perfect. Instead he holds back, watching you with bright blue eyes. 'You okay honey?' - and making you relax under him, the burn and stretch mixing with pleasure the further he presses, nodding eagerly, dragging him back down for a kiss, which he whimpers into as he thrusts inside.

Stripper! Satoru hardly holds back, knowing it's your first time, shaking with the effort not to fold you in a mating press and fuck you to the hilt like he wants. 'Perfect, fuck you feel s'good, mnh...' he's muttering those words as he pulls back and thrusts further, stretching you out impossibly, she's soaking down his veiny length to accommodate, while she pulses from her aftershocks, and you feel that fullness, you're so full. Satoru shoves in harder, deeper, seeing what you can take, your head falls to the side to be littered with kisses, careful not to mark you, though God he wants to, to bite and bruise every inch of skin with his teeth. He wants to leave bruises on your hips, fill you with so much cum you drip him when that man comes near you - but he knows that's fucking stupid.

Stripper! Satoru is pussy drunk so fast, as you open for him, as you loosen your hold, arching your hips up to meet his thrusts, unleashed as you scratch his back, leaving your marks, marks he'll wish will never leave in the coming days. You kiss across his neck, teeth sinking into it and leaving your bite, as he bottoms out in your perfect cunt, the echoes of the squelching wetness and your cries mixing with the smacking of skin, as he loses his control, and you fall off the edge with him. Moans and sighs, gasps and cries, all while he's filling you over and over, bringing you closer to the brink, losing anything and everything all under his long, lithe body, the shadows casting and stretching across the wall, of him over you, of your thighs wrapped around his narrow waist.

Stripper! Satoru has never felt anything like you gripping him, never tasted anything like that honey lingering on his lips, fucking you and dragging his tip on your spot just so, until you shatter, cumming blindingly, crying out his name as you do. He quiets you with a kiss, your cunt spasming around his cock and gushing down further, making a mess of the bed, of him, of you. You're blinking back your vision as you gasp and he leans up, dragging you all the way down his length, his whine so sexy while his head falls back, veins in his arms bulging as he grips you so tight, watching the bulge in your tummy as he slowly moves in and out. 'cum once more, please, wanna feel her again' his whisper is met with a jerky nod, when he finds your clit with the pad of his thumb, running in circles and shoving in so deep he slams your cervix.

Stripper! Satoru watches the pretty bride - not his, how are you not his? - cum for him then, thighs shaking, your head falling back into the soft pillows, and he's done for, leaning forward to pump a few more times, fucking you through that orgasm, before he pulls out with a gasp, wishing he could finish in you, instead pumping that cum on your tummy, white networks of ropes decorating it as it moves up and down with your heavy breaths. You start to come to, when he's cleaning you up, when he's wiping the soreness between your thighs, when he's holding you and kissing you. You feel the emotions hit, the overwhelming pleasure can't override this one singular feeling - dread - and moreso now that you felt this, that you know what it is, to feel so perfect and cherished by a stranger.

Stripper! Satoru panics when you cry, 'was it too much, are you hurt sweetheart or-' you shake your head, hugging him to you tightly, sweet kisses on his neck and cheek then. 'No, it was perfect, so perfect Satoru. Thank you' you shouldn't be thanking him, he musees to himself, letting you kiss him as the knocks finally sound on the door. He gently helps you get dressed, the party is clearly still going on but your friend wanted to check on you, to see your disheveled state she just smiles, rushing off and apologizing, but your skin is decorated in your blush, and he sees it, the fear in your gaze. 'Am I horrible?' he shakes his head then, kissing you again. 'No, you're perfect' and it just leads to more, he can't stop kissing your skin, he can't stop fucking into you, each time hurting less and just feeling better, letting you ride him tentatively, holding you from behind as he fucks you, until the two of you fall asleep, against each other.

Stripper! Satoru overslept clearly, as you're all ready to leave - for a wedding to a monster - and most of the men are hungover, sipping coffee and ready to go home. When he does get dressed in the normal clothes he brought with, you hold his hand, looking down and swallowing, not knowing what to say - that you think in one night you fell for a man - that you'll never be available. It sounds too cruel to say to someone, when there's no future, so instead you hug him tightly, and he holds you against him, trying to hold back everything he wants to say and do. 'Are you gonna be okay?' he asks softly before he leaves, and you smile as brightly as you can, nodding. 'I will be. Thank you for... everything.' one more sweet kiss, and Satoru has to let your hand go, knowing he will never have you again eats at him and he was just inside you, he can't even speak or answer a question, all he can think of is you.

Stripper! Satoru seems like a fantasy, as you walk down the aisle, seeing the bored and cruel gaze staring right at you, dark brown eyes with murderous intent, a nasty smirk as he assessed you. Tousled blond hair, he looks instead at a few of the women sitting in the benches waiting, winking at them instead, before turning back and setting his jaw. When you stand in front of him he yanks back your veil, eyes narrowing and humming to himself. 'Suppose you'll do' he says then, leaving you to feel sick as he grips your wrist, unceremoniously putting a glittery ring on it. 'that hurts...' you whisper weakly, and he squeezes harder, glaring now. 'Keep your mouth shut, little bitch, got it? you're my property now' you sink back, knowing then, the pit in your stomach had been correct, the rumors must be true- he is horrible.

As you sit through the ceremony, as your friends try to comfort you are sent home, as your entire world crumbles and ends, you try to cling to the memory of feeling special, beautiful, you feel his touch, you feel his caress - his gaze. You cling to it as your eyes fill with tears, as your stomach fills with nausea, as he's yanking you onto his lap and laughing cruelly at you. You think of him...

Satoru

Soooo yes this will be a long one, and dw it will end happy somehow! Comment for tags of you're interested in their story <3

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[rhaenyraeri]

Co-Star Tensions - Jack O’Connell

based off this behind the scenes picture hehe

minors dni!! 18+ only!!

Part 1, Part 2, Interlude, Part 3

Summary: You and your costars were called back for some reshoots, and one night after a long day of filming, something unexpected happens.

Pairing: Jack O’Connell x fem!Reader (and technically Remmick x fem!Reader?)

Warnings: it is filth y’all, oral (m receiving), thigh riding, there be’est role play involved, some swearing, i’m not great at writing smut unfortunately

Note: this is an rpf (real person fic) so i encourage that if you don’t like that, please keep scrolling. i’ve never wrote one of these before but i felt compelled to lol. also if there are any mistakes pls let me know 🫶

The tension could, almost literally, be cut with a knife on the set. Everyone could tell, but no one would say it. They wouldn’t speak about how you and Jack had scenes just barely near each other, but you both gravitated closer. No one would dare mention how hard you locked in on him when filming the scene with vampire Bert, how he sat in the rocking chair covered in fake blood.. there was something about it. Something, dare you say, carnal, was awakening in you.

The nights you yearned to touch him, yearned to just have your hands on him, sexually or not. The nights just hoping he felt the same way. Just watching him in his element, such a talented actor and great man, having the honor to work alongside him. He just had that charm about him, and that charm resonated into Remmick. You wanted him, and you wanted Remmick. Two birds, one stone.

There were just a few nights of filming left, and the two of you had spoken earlier in the day about how sad it was to say goodbye to a wonderful cast and to people you’d grown to call friends. Some scenes needed some touch ups, and others need reshoots due to new ideas flourishing from the director.

—————

Walking past the set to your makeup artist’s camper, you noticed a figure in the dark. Leaned back in the rocking chair, in the corner of the darkened room used for a reshoot earlier that day. The light in the corner cast a slight shadow onto the figure and you stopped to get a better look. It was Jack, still dressed in the bloody Remmick costume from the scene filmed earlier with Joan and Bert. The way he looked at you after ran chills up your spine. He caught you staring from the sidelines of the crew. Tensions were already high due to your character and Jack’s being romantic partners, and having to say filthy shit to each other had you reeling, yearning for it to have meaning behind it.

“Hey baby,” he spoke, that thick southern drawl that Remmick had came out. Your mouth dropped slightly, your hands holding your belongings slowly lowering. He was staring right at you, that was meant for you. He slowly began rocking, eyes never leaving you. “You gonna come on over here, darlin’? I’ve been waitin’ for you.”

Oh, what the southern drawl did to you. You didn’t think it’d corral you into him like this but it did. That thick accent made you swoon, in and out of character. Seeing him calling out to you, and you alone, warmed you up.

“Come on now, lass. You just gonna leave ol’ Rem hangin’?”

Ah. So this is how he’s gonna be. Jack wants you, and he’s going to do it in true vampiric Remmick nature. He’s luring you in.

Realizing you’d better play the part, you close your eyes and get into character. You dropped your items and starting making your way to him.

“There she is… there’s my girl. I’ve missed you,” shaking his head slightly, still rocking in the chair. Your feet clicked against the concrete floor almost antagonizingly slow, your eyes never left his, and you felt your body heat up. Crossing onto the wood, the change of energy set the mood. There he was, still covered in that fake blood from earlier, dripping right over his face and down his neck. The lights of the set were all either off or dim, save for this one hanging overhead. Just enough to hit him like a spotlight.

“I’m sorry, Remmy. I didn’t mean to make you wait on me. Are you upset at me, baby?,” you spoke to him. You could watch as those words made every hair on him stand up, the gulp traveled down his throat, and his hand gripped the armrest. His foot started to shake a little. You put on those big puppy dog eyes your character has when she looks at her lover. Slowly, you stepped closer and closer to him, walking behind the chair and putting your hands on his shoulders. You leaned down to his neck, right beside his ear and said, “I’m here now, baby. Did you need somethin’?”

“I just missed you, darlin’. Missed your touch, your voice… your face. Lord, that face of yours,” he admired as a hand reach beside him and held your cheek. The tension you two had all lead up to this moment. You took your hand and ran it up his arm and over his that was placed on your face, locking your fingers into his. Taking your other hand off of his shoulder, you walked in front of him, and used your free hand to touch his face in return.

“You’ve made a mess, Rem. But you look just as handsome as always.”

“Nah, darlin’, this ain’t no mess. A mess is what you’ve made me into, and I think you know just how to clean it up.”

Did you? Did he want you to touch him? Fuck him? Be with him? This is all new to you, this role playing thing. Not to mention it being with a man you’ve admired for so long, and just hoped that one day you’d be able to have him this way. This was your chance to finally have what you wished for.

Your eyes left his, scanning down his body in that outfit that made you an unstable wreck, and stopped at his pants. Smirking, you nodded, and stood between his now open legs. He took his free hand and grabbed your waist, bringing you closer to him. His body was practically calling out to you, you could feel how badly he wanted you, and he could feel you the same way. You bit your lip, and got on your knees.

“Oh, Rem. You got this worked up over me? I can’t just let you suffer, can I, my love?”

He gulped hard, biting his lip and hardening his lock on you.

“Nah, I don’t think that’d be very kind of you.”

“I didn’t think it would.”

Your hand left his face, running down his neck, chest, then stomach, and finally ending at his suspenders and pants. Your fingers got to work fast on his buckles and buttons, as you wanted him more than you could imagine. You wanted to taste him. You were going to. That was certain between the two of you.

Pulling off his pants and underwear in one movement, they fell to his ankles. He was hard for you. Thinking about how you walked on the set each day, head held so high and you were so passionate about your work. So passionate about the project.. about your characters. About him, he wished.

You kissed his tip, making sure to keep that eye contact. A guttural moan left him and you felt your heart flutter with pride, excitement, and admiration for the man in front of you. Your right hand came down to wrap around him, moving it up slowly, taking in what you’re about to do to him. Stroking him for a few more moments, you grew impatient. You wanted the taste of him, and you wanted the feeling of having the man you’ve pined over for months in you finally. Leaning back down, you opened your mouth and ran your tongue down the length of his dick. Stopping at the top after a few times of going up and down, you sucked, letting your tongue roam around him. You hummed against him, the sensation making him let another low, sexy moan out. Your head began to bob up and down, and your cheeks hollowed out as you went as far as you could. Your eyes closed, humming as you sucked on him. You felt his hand trace your jaw and entangle itself into your hair, grabbing a loose fist full of it and guiding you.

Deciding it was enough, he used his grip on your hair to pull you off him, and got a good look at your face. Your eyes filled with lust met his eyes, matching the same level of desire that you had.

“Stand up, I want you to try somethin’ out for me,” he said, breath shaky, as he ran his hands up your costume dress, and pulled your underwear down, “good, now we’re even.”

He put a hand on your waist, guiding you down to his thigh, using his grip to rock you back and forth over it. You grabbed his shoulder with one hand, and the top of the chair with other, now guiding yourself across with his assistance still being used.

“Oh, yeah. You like that, huh? Grindin’ on my thigh all desperate like. ‘Cause that’s what you are, desperate, right?” That drawl invoked a loud and, like he said, desperate moan from you, right into his ear. The hand on his shoulder now gripped his hair, holding him closer to you.

“I saw you watching me from the sidelines. You wanted me so bad, now you’ve got me. This is what you wanted, right? You’ve made me a damn mess, girl.”

His façade as Remmick was now gone, and it was his pure intentions coming out of him. That accent change damn near made you release then and there, but you were too lost in the feeling of his warm thigh against your pussy as you took out your sexual yearning on it. His other hand ran between your body and his, rubbing your clit, and he took his fingers to his mouth. He made sure to get your eyes to look into his as he savored your arousal. The fake blood mixed into his mouth a little as he finally got a taste of the beauty before him.

“You couldn’t be the only one that got a little taste, huh, darling?”

That was enough to get you off, and you came hard onto him. His moans from seeing you getting yourself off to a part of him that wasn’t even sexual filled your ears as you moaned into his ear, wrapping your arms around his neck as you came down from your high. You stayed like this for a few minutes until you both calmed down. You raised up, running a hand over his chest before placing it around his heart.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted you. Not even just like this, you know? You’re special, you’re beautiful. Absolutely perfect. D’you want to go out sometime? Properly get to hang out?”

You smiled, nodding along with the idea.

“I’d love to. I hoped for so damn long that you felt that way, too, you handsome devil.”

“Handsome vampire, get it right.”

You giggled, leaning in to give him a kiss.

“Oh, and for future reference, just know that was hot as fuck.”

“Duly noted, love.”

[inseobts]

Undercover Lovers

zoro x gn!reader

while waiting for luffy and the others to return from whole cake island, you and the rest of the crew are forced to go undercover in wano, where your and zoro's cover as a loving couple quickly gets complicated.

PART 2

words count: 1.2k

tags: wci and wano spoilers, fake dating, romance, soft zoro

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

You and Zoro stand in the shadows of the misty Wano streets, hidden in plain sight. The night is thick with tension, and the smell of the night air is saturated with the scents of food and unfamiliar spices.

“Alright” Zoro mutters under his breath, his gaze darting around. “This mission is simple. We blend in, gather intel, and keep a low profile. No trouble.”

You glance at him skeptically “Simple? Nothing here is simple, Zoro. Especially when we have to pretend to be a couple...because I don't know if you looked at yourself”

Zoro, ever stoic, adjusts the sword at his side “It’s just an act. Play the role and we’ll be fine.”

You don't know who has this brilliant idea but you're hating them all.

You scoff “That’s what you think. I don’t think you fully understand what it means to pretend to be someone’s lover.”

He grins faintly “I think I do. You make it sound like I'll be terrible at this.”

The two of you exchange a glance, the awkwardness palpable. You had to assume this would happen, but the idea of him being your pretend lover makes your stomach flutter in a way you didn’t expect. You’re both meant to lay low while Luffy, Nami, Chopper, and Brook are rescuing Sanji on Whole Cake Island. But you and Zoro are left behind, needing to keep the rest of the Straw Hats safe while undercover.

“Now, let’s go” Zoro commands, the stoic warrior in him taking over. “Remember, just act natural.”

You and Zoro enter a local tavern in the heart of the capital. The noise from the patrons fills the room, but everything about this place feels off, like a hidden danger lies in the air. As soon as the door swings open, all eyes turn to you, and the tavern goes silent.

The bartender raises an eyebrow “What’s this? A foreign couple?”

You force a smile and link your arm with Zoro’s, making sure your posture looks casual and affectionate “Yes, we’re just here to enjoy the local food and drink” you say, your voice smooth.

Zoro stands beside you, towering and quiet, his gaze scanning the room. His posture is stiff, uncomfortable, and it’s clear that he’s not used to playing the role of someone’s lover.

“You’re an odd couple,” the bartender says, a smug smirk on his face “The woman seems more… lively. And you...” he eyes Zoro, “look like a man who could care less.”

Zoro barely glances at the bartender “I’ll take some sake.”

The bartender nods, but there’s a smirk on his face “Of course. For you two lovers, the first round’s on the house.”

You exchange a look with Zoro, both of you realizing that staying in character would be harder than it seemed. As the drinks arrive, you take one and drink it slowly, trying to hide the tension in your shoulders.

As days pass, the two of you work together to gather information, keeping up the act as a loving couple. But things become more complicated when one young local guy, Miyamoto, starts showing more interest in you than you’re comfortable with.

You’re sitting in a quiet corner of the town square, Zoro casually sitting by your side, when Miyamoto approaches with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Ah, y/n” he says smoothly “I didn’t expect to see you here. Care for a walk?” His eyes flicker toward Zoro before returning to you “I can show you some of the best views in the town. Perhaps Zoro doesn’t mind… after all, I’m sure he’s busy with his… training.”

You blink, slightly taken aback by his boldness. You glance at Zoro, but to your surprise, he’s sitting there, arms crossed, his usual indifferent expression masking any emotions.

“Zoro’s fine” you say quickly, trying to shut down Miyamoto’s advances “We’re fine here. And besides, I’m not one to leave my loving companion behind.”

Miyamoto chuckles, though the sound is more mocking than playful. “Loving? You don’t have to pretend, you know. I’m sure Zoro would be fine with me taking care of you for the evening”

This is making you mad, not just his advances but also Zoro sitting them like nothing was happening, not even caring to look over you and notice the uncomfortable air around you.

You clench your fists and you're about to storm out of there until Zoro finally turns his gaze toward Miyamoto, narrowing his eyes. His usually passive attitude shifts, and there’s an unmistakable tension in the air “You’re making a mistake if you think I won’t mind and I would let you”

You watch the exchange carefully, feeling the air grow thick with unspoken words. Miyamoto takes a step back, and Zoro’s eyes briefly meet yours, the unease in his gaze not going unnoticed.

It’s late into the evening. You and Zoro are once again walking through the dimly lit streets of Wano, the mission nearing its end. The tension from Miyamoto’s advances still hangs in the air, and for the first time, Zoro seems a little different.

“You’re quiet” he remarks, glancing at you “You looks upset since that last meeting with Miyamoto, are you?”

You look at him briefly "pretty much yeah... I was feeling uncomfortable and yet you waited that long to even say something"

"I knew you could handle it alone"

"Well... I actually couldn't"

He suddenly stops walking. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he says nothing. You can feel the weight of unspoken words pressing between you.

Then, with a sigh, he finally speaks.

"For the record, I didn’t like it either" Zoro mutters, voice quieter than usual.

You blink at him, caught off guard "What?"

His gaze flickers to the side, as if reluctant to say more "That bastard...Miyamoto. The way he looked at you, the way he talked to you." His grip on his sword tightens. "It pissed me off... but if I did something we would have been in bif trouble"

After a pause he continues, “I didn’t like the way he looked at you” Zoro says, his voice unexpectedly serious.

Your heart stutters in your chest, unsure of whether you’re hearing things “What?”

Zoro glances at you, a slight frown tugging at his lips “I told you. I actually didn’t like the way he was talking to you. He was crossing the line”

You feel a warmth spread through your chest, unsure whether it’s the alcohol or something else making your heart beat faster “Zoro…” you start, but your words fail you.

“Forget it” he says gruffly, looking away as if the conversation never happened. But there’s something different in the way he speaks, something real this time.

You pause, staring at him. Could it be that… the act was becoming more than just a mission? Was Zoro feeling the same as you were?

“Zoro” you start again, but before you can say anything more, he steps forward, closing the gap between you two. His hand touches yours, almost like it’s an accident, but when he doesn’t pull it away, you realize it’s not.

The moment stretches on, and you can feel the tension dissipate into something new.

Without thinking, you lean into him “Maybe this act wasn’t so bad after all.”

Zoro stares down at you, his eyes flickering with something indecipherable “Maybe not” he replies, voice low and barely above a whisper.

He takes your hand in a better and firm way now and start walking again, hand in hand.

You smile at him, a small blush on his cheeks, trying to avoid your eyes. And for the first time, you wonder if the lines between the pretend lovers and real feelings are starting to blur.

[ducktoo]

Honey

IVE’s An Yujin x M!Reader

Note: yep....the actual finale for the puppy lmao

Appreciate @okaylikeschaewon for proofread and suggestions <3

(casual Yujin is best Yujin)

It started with the door slamming open like a hurricane had just entered the building.

"Did you miss me?!"

You were just adjusting your earpiece near the back corner of the practice room when the shout rang out, echoing off the polished mirrors.

There she was. An Yujin. The girl who just recovered from a cold. Dressed in an oversized black hoodie, cap backwards, mask slung lazily beneath her chin, and arms stretched wide like she was welcoming a stadium of screaming fans.

She spun once dramatically, nearly tripping over her own sneaker. “I have returned, baby-deul!”

No one even looked up.

Rei barely lifted a hand from her phone. “Boo.”

Gaeul didn’t pause stretching. “Was hoping you’d be out one more day, Yujin-ah.”

Wonyoung, sipping something from a straw, didn’t even blink. “I had peace for two whole days. I want them back.”

Leeseo gave her a thumbs-up with the flattest face imaginable. “Congrats on surviving your cold, unnie!”

Liz muttered, “Should’ve stayed in bed longer.”

Yujin clutched her chest dramatically like she'd been betrayed by her entire kingdom. “You traitors! This is how you greet your beloved leader?”

“Maybe if you were our leader,” Gaeul deadpanned.

You didn’t say anything. Not yet. You were too busy... staring.

Because despite the over-the-top dramatics, the usual diva behaviour, the fake outrage—she was back.

The hoodie sleeves were bunched awkwardly, her eyes were still a little puffy from lingering fatigue, and the end of her sentences cracked slightly from strain. But she was walking, talking, smiling.

And your chest, which had felt a little too tight for the past few days, finally eased. You caught yourself exhaling quietly.

It was subtle. You didn’t make a big deal of it. You didn’t walk over or say some awkward “glad you’re okay.” That would’ve only fed her ego.

But you couldn’t help but stare at her. You watched as she stumbled over her own feet, quite impressed at her attempt at playing off that lingering cough which you knew was bothering her.

Just like the soreness she carried, her hand subtly massaging her side. You knew it already, she was anything but slick.

So, as casually as possible, you shift towards the edge of the bench. Quietly, trying to avoid bringing attention to yourself, you cushioned the sharp corner from Yujin’s own clumsiness, attempting to prevent her from getting hurt.

Just like usual.

Only now, you weren’t just doing it because it was your job. You were doing it because she was Yujin. Your pain-in-the-ass favourite.

And nothing had ever felt more normal. Well…sort of.

When Yujin came back from her short sick leave, you told yourself everything was back to normal. You resumed your post—silent, alert, just another shadow in the background of their busy schedules.

But you weren’t just watching the group anymore. You were watching her.

It wasn’t conscious at first. Your eyes found her before anyone else. If she laughed too hard, coughed even once, or lingered behind the group for more than five seconds—your body moved on its own.

When the girls were filming a behind-the-scenes vlog at the park, you were meant to stay back with another staff member and keep your eyes on the crowd. The other members were off doing bits for the camera—Leeseo trying to race a squirrel, Rei spinning in circles for a TikTok, Wonyoung striking poses every five steps.

But your gaze was locked on Yujin, who had wandered to the edge of the walkway to wave at a passing toddler. The child’s mom smiled politely. Yujin beamed whereas you narrowed your eyes.

“Don’t wander too far,” you muttered into her earpiece.

She blinked, surprised, glancing around. Then she spotted you, arms crossed from thirty feet away, deadpan as usual.

She grinned. “Wow,” she whispered, loud enough into her mic for the whole crew to hear. “Even when I’m being adorable, I’m being pampered.”

"Yujin, what the-"

Later, at a crowded event where all six girls needed to take individual photos, you were meant to rotate between them. One minute per member, just a routine check-in.

You spent three on Yujin.

Checking the heels she hated wearing. Handing her a tissue even though she hadn’t asked for one. Fixing the mic pack on her back, even though a stylist had already done it.

“Oppa,” Wonyoung called, arching a brow from the side, “you do know the rest of us exist, right?”

You didn’t even turn. “Yeah, I just have a priority system. And you’re currently ranked... uhh…somewhere below the sound guy.”

The entire staff went, “Ohhhh snap-”

Rei nearly choked on her protein bar. “Oh my god.”

Yujin, gleaming like she just won an award, leaned into you and whispered, “Don’t let her live that one down. Please.”

Wonyoung huffed dramatically. “I hope she breaks your heart.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I hope she pays me more.”

That earned a laugh from even the manager, while Yujin clutched her stomach and leaned fully against your shoulder like it was her personal throne.

“See? That’s my bodyguard,” she said proudly. “Sassy and effective.”

You didn’t say it aloud, but you kind of liked the way she said my like that….or anytime she mentions you at all

Normally, you sat up front with the manager or quietly scanned your phone in the back row. Now? Now you were subtly adjusting the air conditioning whenever Yujin looked flushed. Offering her your water bottle without being asked. Ducking your head when she caught you glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

She’d tease you mercilessly every time. “Is this what love feels like?” “Are you writing a fanfic about me in your head right now?” “Hey~ blink if you want me to hold your hand.”

You’d scowl. “I can still push you out of this van.”

But your words lacked bite because even you couldn’t ignore it anymore. Your attention always gravitated toward her.

Not because she was a leader. Not because she was loud. But because, somehow, in a job built on staying detached, you had grown undeniably, stupidly, attached to An Yujin.

-

At some point, it became background noise, like the hum of fluorescent lights or the soft spin of a fan. Reliable. Predictable.

You and Yujin bicker. All day long. Since who knows when.

The other members had stopped commenting on it. They had stopped reacting to it.

…ok, honestly, they barely heard it anymore—at least not in the way most people would, just like this morning.

“Your hoodie’s inside out,” you muttered one morning as Yujin stomped out of the dorm in slippers and sleepy menace.

“It’s fashion,” she yawned. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Of course I don't because it's dumb. I can see the tag.”

She tugged the hood further over her head. “That’s the statement piece. It’s commentary on how society’s always looking at labels!”

“Uhuh, deep,” you replied dryly. “Did you think that up just now or while brushing your teeth with your eyes closed?”

Wonyoung slipped past with a granola bar in her mouth. “Can you two keep the podcast quiet? Some of us are trying to ignore both of you.”

Gaeul followed, phone in hand, not even glancing up. “Volume down to level 3, please. We don’t need the full radio show this early.”

At rehearsals later, it continued like a well-oiled routine.

Yujin collapsed beside you during a break, sweat on her brow and water bottle in hand. You passed her a towel without looking.

“You always bring me the soft towel,” she mused, dabbing her neck with a satisfied sigh. “Does that mean I’m your favourite?”

“No,” you replied, eyes on the studio doors. “It means you complain the loudest. It's there in case I need to shut your mouth.”

“Tomato, tomato, same thing.” She grinned and leaned back, resting her head against your arm. “I bet you’d miss me if I stopped talking.”

“Please do, I’d throw a party,” you said flatly.

Rei, lying on the floor and scrolling through her phone, casually added, “Make sure I get an invite.”

“You’re not even listening!” Yujin pouted. "You guys are horrible to me…"

“We don’t need to,” Liz said from the other corner of the room, eyes half-shut in a power nap. “You two are like those podcasts people fall asleep to. Always talking, but somehow comforting.”

“Comforting?” you echoed, offended.

“...Comfortably annoying,” Rei corrected.

"Ah, right."

Leeseo raised a hand. “I used to get confused about who was mad at who. But now I know this is just how they say ‘I like you.’”

You and Yujin paused at the same time.

Then she nudged your side with a smirk. “See? Even Leeseo gets it.”

“Oh, shut up, An Yujin…” you muttered—but your voice lacked weight, and she knew it.

-

The moment came in their uncharacteristically quiet practice room.

No squeaky sneakers. No Gaeul’s weird warm-up playlist blaring through the speakers. No Wonyoung whining about muscle soreness like she wasn’t built from marble and ambition. No Liz sipping hot tea like a tired auntie in the corner.

Just quiet.

Oh, and An Yujin. Alone.

Yujin.

Long hair loosely tied, hoodie half-zipped, her speaker blaring a playlist of deep bass and dreamy vocals. She looked up at you with a smug, lazy smile—already brimming with mischief.

You stopped in the doorway. “Why are you here before everyone else?”

She didn’t even look up. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Nothing about you is obvious.”

“I just want to see you.”

You blinked. Hard. “You saw me yesterday. And the day before. And every day since the beginning of time, apparently.”

Yujin finally looked at you through the mirror, her grin curling at one corner, hair a little messy, like she hadn’t finished brushing it. “Still….Not enough.”

You stepped into the room, letting the door click shut behind you. The sound echoed just a little too loudly in the otherwise quiet space.

“Yujin…I think you’re getting clingier,” you muttered, standing near the wall, arms crossed. “This is pretty risky. You’re like a cat. If I give you attention, you’ll never leave.”

"Technically, I am a puppy." Yujin huffed.

"Gosh, you're so annoyin- fine, you're like a puppy. Happy now?"

She laughed lightly and rolled onto her back, now doing lazy bicycle kicks. “Well, if you don’t, I’ll just start chewing the furniture until you do.”

“Wow, how great.” you deadpanned. “So you’re annoying and a health hazard.”

“Yaaaa~” she sang, dragging herself closer across the polished floor like she was in a zombie movie. “Why won’t you just say it?”

“Say what?”

“That you like me.” She paused at your feet, lying flat on the floor, staring up at you like you were the ceiling and the sun at once.

You felt your throat catch for a moment. “We’re not doing this now, An Yujin.”

“We’re alone.”

“Exactly," you gulped. "We’re not doing this.”

She propped herself up on her elbows. “What are you so scared of?”

Your jaw twitched. “You don’t need me to say anything. You know I—”

She stood in one smooth motion, suddenly far too close. “But I want to hear it.”

You stepped back once.

She followed.

You bumped against the wall.

She took another step closer.

Close enough that you could smell the faint citrus of her shampoo. Just close enough that you finally noticed her usual perfume that you've grown accustomed to.

Her eyes weren’t teasing now. No games. No playful nudges.

Just a girl standing in front of someone she trusted, someone she’d grown used to being around, someone she adored more than she probably should.

And suddenly her hands were on your chest, not pushing but resting—hot, firm, real. Her eyes searched for yours, less playful now. There was something sharper beneath it—soft, sure, and impossibly earnest.

“You bicker with me,” she said quietly. “You walk me to the van first, even when Wonyoung and Leeseo have the mic pack. You always pass me the bottle cap face-up when Liz is right next to you. You don’t even look at the others when I’m in the room. You make everything about me—except this.”

You didn’t expect it.

The way her hands slid up your chest to your collar. The way her breath hitched—just slightly—as she looked up at you with something that wasn't teasing for once.

“I like you,” she said quietly. “And I know you like me. Just say it, please…”

Her voice wasn’t flirty. It wasn’t smug. It was... earnest. And she didn’t give you a chance to answer. Not with words.

Instead, she leaned in and kissed you.

It was impulsive, but careful. Bold, but slow. Her hands curled into your jacket, gripping the fabric like she didn’t want to let go. Her breath was warm. Her body pressed close. Your head spun.

You hesitated, then melted into the kiss, the teasing and bickering dissolving into something urgent and real.

No hesitation. No duty. No job. Just her.

Just Yujin.

The moment was shattered by the worst possible sound.

Click.

The door  barely swung open when the members saw it.

“Yaaahhhhhh!!” Rei’s shriek might’ve shattered the glass panels.

“Get a room!” Wonyoung howled, spinning on her heel and sprinting back into the hallway as if her soul had physically left her body.

“My drink!” Liz yelled as her cup hit the floor, ice cubes rolling in every direction.

Leeseo immediately began filming like she already practiced for this with precision. “This is gold. Actual gold. Tiktok can wait — this needs to go on the big screen.”

Gaeul just stood there, rubbing her temple. “Freaking hell, I knew something was going on. I just didn’t expect to walk in on a freaking plot.”

You jumped apart like high schoolers caught by a teacher, your face hot and your brain already sprinting in every direction.

Silence.

You stood there like a moron. Words jammed at the base of your throat. Logic scrambled. Excuses? Gone.

They all stared.

And instead of reaching for a save, or fumbling for a lie, or brushing it off like you always did, you exhaled through your nose and muttered—loud enough for everyone to hear:

 “Yeah. I like her.”

Another explosion.

“Whoooaaa—” Rei clapped loudly like she was watching a drama unfold in real-time.

Liz kicked her fallen drink aside and clapped dramatically. “The tension is over. The ship has sailed.”

Leeseo gasped and started typing into her phone. “Do you think the fans know? Should we act surprised or should we leak it anonymously—”

Gaeul cut in calmly, “I’m never walking into a room alone again. Not with you two.”

But the worst part? Yujin hadn’t moved.

Well, Yujin froze for half a second. Then her eyes slowly, gleefully widened, lips parting in mock shock as if you had just confessed to a war crime. And then that smug, maddening smile spread across her face like wildfire.

“Ohhh?” she hummed, already basking in it. “You like me? You like me?”

“Don’t start. Don't even fucking start, An Yujin.”

“You like me,” she sang while playfully poking your cheek. “You likes me. You—my super serious, emotionally constipated bodyguard—like me.”

“Constipat- ugh, why did I confess to you of all people…” you muttered.

She leaned in closer, clearly loving every second. “Was it the kiss? Or was it the way I dramatically pinned you to the wall like in a webtoon? I practiced hard for this.”

“You wh- I will walk out of this room right now.”

“You can’t. You admitted it in front of witnesses.” She gestured to the chaotic peanut gallery behind her. “They’re basically our marriage officiants now.”

“Help,” you said, turning to Liz like she could physically remove Yujin from your personal space.

Liz just smiled. “Yeah, nah. You made your bed.”

“And now you get to share it~” Wonyoung chimed, practically giddy with amusement. "We're looking forward for you guys' wedding invitation~"

Yujin finally, finally leaned away—only to throw her arm around your neck and pull you toward her, all teeth and smugness and unbearable warmth. “Admit it,” she whispered smugly. “You’re relieved they found out. Now you don’t have to pretend you don’t adore me.”

“…You’re lucky I like you, Yujin."

She just buried her face into your neck from behind and whispered, “Took you long enough to say it, honey.”

You didn’t reply.

Because unfortunately, you did.

You have heard many opinions about An Yujin through her online exposure. Gorgeous yet strict, a natural professional and one of the most popular idols in the business.

So when you got hired as a personal bodyguard to IVE, you knew you had to be in your best behaviour. You were expecting a professional introduction. Maybe a polite handshake, a simple exchange of names, and a respectful nod—just like how it had been with every other client before.

But no. Instead, the first thing you got was laughter.

Loud, unabashed laughter.

You had barely stepped into the practice room, clad in your sharp black suit with an earpiece securely in place, when Yujin spun around mid-dance routine, caught sight of you, and nearly collapsed from laughing too hard.

"Oh my god, you look so serious!" She practically wheezed, hands on her knees.

You blinked, your professional composure wavering just slightly. That’s not the usual reaction.

"...Excuse me?"

She straightened up, still giggling, and gave you a once-over. "You're my new bodyguard, right? Wow, we’re the same age, but you look like you’re about to arrest me or something."

Yujin wiped at the corner of her eyes and grinned as she strolled up to you, radiating the kind of unbothered energy that made your brow twitch. Well this is…going to be a pain.

"Well at least I do look the part, no?" you asked, straightening your vest as you clear your throat . "I’m literally here to keep you safe."

"Oh, I’m very grateful." Yujin smirked, stepping closer with a mischievous glint in her eye. "But I was kinda hoping for someone... I don’t know, scarier? You look way too nice."

You stared at her, unimpressed. "I can be scary."

"Yeah?" She raised an eyebrow. "Prove it."

You sighed and took a step forward, dropping your voice into a low, stern tone. "If you don't follow security protocol, I will personally make sure you regret it."

For a moment, Yujin's eyes widened, and you thought—just for a second—that she would actually take you seriously.

Then she grinned even wider.

“Ohhh,” she mused, stepping even closer, her face just inches from yours. “I like you already.”

You had a very bad feeling about this.

-

If you had known what was coming, you would’ve quit on the spot.

An Yujin, despite her public image of being a charming, responsible leader, was actually a menace.

If she wasn’t sneaking off to buy snacks at the nearby convenience stores without telling anyone, she was hiding behind doors just to jump-scare you. And the worst part? The other IVE members had joined in on it…but mostly Yujin.

"Come on, just one smile," Yujin teased one afternoon, poking your cheek while you stood guard by the van. "You've been with us for months, and I still haven't seen you laugh."

You exhaled through your nose. "My job is to protect you, not to entertain you."

"That’s so boring. How do you survive without fun?"

"By keeping a certain someone out of trouble." You shot her a pointed look.

Yujin gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "Wow. Is that how you see me? Just a walking headache?"

You opened your mouth—because yes she was a giant headache to you—but she cut you off, suddenly leaning in way too close.

"What if I am your problem, huh?" she whispered, eyes glinting with playful challenge.

You held your ground, staring her down. "...Then I'll have to handle you accordingly, I suppose."

Instead of backing off, Yujin grinned wider. "I’d like to see you try."

Oh, she was insufferable. And unfortunately, you were stuck with her.

-

"You know," Yujin drawled, stretching across the couch in the waiting room like a cat in the sun. One arm hung off the side lazily, while the other rested behind her head, eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief. "I think you like me more than you let on."

You sighed, already used to her antics. "What makes you think that?"

Her lips curled upward, slow and knowing, like she had already won whatever game she was playing. "Because I'm fun. And charming. And incredibly good-looking." She struck an exaggerated pose, tilting her chin up dramatically like some kind of historical monarch.

Across the room, Wonyoung groaned, rubbing her temples. "Unnie, please. Have some dignity."

"You don’t want me to tell the truth?" Yujin gasped, clutching her chest in mock devastation, her mouth slightly parted as if she had just been personally attacked.

"I don't want you to embarrass us in front of our bodyguard," Wonyoung corrected, glancing at you apologetically.

You just shook your head, lips pressing into a thin line. "I'm used to it."

Yujin’s eyes flickered with amusement, but instead of making another joke, her expression softened just slightly—like she had caught something in your tone that intrigued her. Then, just as quickly, the mischief returned. "See? That's basically an admission that you enjoy my company."

You gave her a deadpan look. "That is not what I said."

"Too late, I'm taking it as fact." She stretched her arms over her head, looking far too pleased with herself.

You exhaled through your nose, choosing to ignore her. If there was one thing you'd learned about An Yujin, it was that engaging with her nonsense only fuelled her further.

But despite all her teasing and the way she constantly pushed your buttons, there were moments when she reminded you why she was the leader of IVE.

Like now.

Liz sat in the corner of the room, staring down at her phone with her lips pressed into a tight line. She was fidgeting, her hands twisting together in her lap—a stark contrast to the usual easygoing energy she carried.

Yujin noticed instantly. Her playful expression melted away, replaced by something steadier. More grounded. She pushed herself off the couch, crossing the room in a few quick strides before crouching beside Liz.

"Jiwonie," she called softly, nudging her knee against Liz’s. "What’s up?"

Liz hesitated before sighing. "I feel like I keep messing up my parts in the choreography."

Yujin tilted her head, studying her with an unreadable expression. Then, instead of immediately reassuring her, she took a moment. Just a beat of silence—enough to let Liz’s words settle before responding.

"You don’t," Yujin said firmly. "We practiced together, remember? You’re doing fine."

"But—"

"No buts." Yujin stood up, walked over, and slung an arm around Liz’s shoulders, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "You know what I told you? The best performers aren’t the ones who get everything perfect all the time. They’re the ones who keep going no matter what."

Liz still looked uncertain, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "You really think so?"

"I know so." Yujin grinned. "Besides, if you mess up, I’ll just mess up too. That way, we’re both in trouble."

"That’s a terrible encouragement," you muttered.

Yujin turned her head slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, and the glint in her eyes was back. The glint. The one that usually meant trouble.

"It’s called leadership," Yujin shot back. "Ever heard of it?"

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head, but you didn’t argue. Liz was smiling now, and that was proof enough that whatever Yujin was doing was working. She had a way of lifting her members’ spirits that was genuinely impressive.

Liz laughed, looking much more relaxed. "Thanks, unnie."

"Anytime," Yujin replied, patting her head before making her way back to her spot on the couch. As she passed you, she glanced up, smirking.

"See? I'm not just a pain in your ass."

"I never said that," you replied, but she only winked before plopping back onto the couch like she hadn’t just effortlessly reassured one of her members.

You sighed. Protecting An Yujin was exhausting… but you didn’t mind as much as you pretended to.

-

Your day off. A rare and precious thing.

You had been looking forward to it—no earpiece, no schedule to follow, no six-foot radius of hyper-vigilance around an overgrown puppy disguised as an idol. Just a quiet, peaceful day to yourself.

Or so you thought.

The realization hit you like a cruel joke when you spotted her.

An Yujin. Hoodie up, mask on, but you’d recognize her anywhere. The way she walked, slightly loose-limbed and confident, like the world was hers to navigate. The way she hummed under her breath as she glanced at store signs, completely unaware of how reckless she was being.

You groaned under your breath. Of course.

But before you could even question why she was out alone, without security, without backup, you saw him. A man. Mid-thirties. Dark hoodie. His posture was too stiff, his steps too calculated. He lingered a few feet behind Yujin, never overtaking her, never slowing down. His gaze flickered to her every few seconds, fingers twitching slightly as if waiting for something.

Your instincts kicked in immediately.

You followed her into a convenience store, keeping to the shelves as she strolled past the snack aisle. She had no idea. Her biggest concern at the moment was probably whether to get banana milk or iced coffee—completely oblivious to the shadow tailing her.

He lingered near the entrance, pretending to look at snacks but never actually picking anything up. His eyes were locked on Yujin, and his fingers twitched like he was waiting for the right moment.

Sasaeng. Your stomach turned cold.

You moved fast.

The moment Yujin left the store, you followed right behind. And just as the man reached out—

You grabbed his wrist. Tight.

A sharp intake of breath. The man's head snapped toward you, eyes widening in shock and irritation.

"The hell—?" he hissed, jerking back, but you didn’t let go.

Yujin spun around, startled. "Huh?—"

"Good afternoon, mister." You pulled her behind you instinctively, keeping your grip on the man. "I don’t know what you think you’re doing," you said, voice low and firm, "but walk away. Now."

The man scowled, trying to yank his arm free. "Who the hell are you?"

"Her bodyguard," you answered coldly. "And if you don’t leave in the next five seconds, you won’t like what happens next."

A flicker of hesitation. His eyes darted between you and Yujin, who was standing rigid behind you now, her usual carefree energy drained into something tense and alert.

Then, finally, the man sneered and yanked his arm free. "Tch. Not worth it," he muttered before disappearing into the crowd.

You stood there for a moment, making sure he was really gone, before exhaling.

And then you remembered the girl behind you.

"So…what the hell?" you snapped, turning to her. "Why are you alone?"

She blinked up at you, wide-eyed, still processing what just happened. "Uh…"

"You know how dangerous this is, right?" Your voice was sharper than usual, the adrenaline still running through you. "No staff, no backup, no security. What were you thinking?"

Yujin finally seemed to snap out of it, rubbing the back of her neck. "...I just wanted to go out for a bit. I didn’t want to bother anyone."

Your fists clenched, the lingering adrenaline making your chest feel too tight. "You call this not bothering anyone? You're lucky I decided to go out right now you dunce."

She hesitated, shifting on her feet. Then, in a small voice, she admitted, "I didn’t even realize he was following me."

You exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Yujin," you muttered, softer this time, "this is exactly why you can’t go out alone. It’s not about you wanting freedom, it’s about your safety. There are people out there who—" You stopped, shaking your head. "Just... don’t do this again."

Silence stretched between you for a few seconds before Yujin suddenly smiled.

It wasn’t her usual teasing grin. It was softer. Almost... grateful.

"You really do care about me, huh?"

You groaned. "That’s what you’re taking from this?"

Her lips twitched, and just like that, the mischievous glint in her eyes was back. She nudged your arm playfully. "Admit it. You’d miss me if I got kidnapped."

"Don't make me use profanity you—"

"Fine, fine!" She laughed, hands up in surrender. But then she let out a breath, gaze flickering down for a second before meeting yours again, more earnest this time.

"Seriously, though," she murmured. "Thanks. I mean it."

You watched her for a moment, noting the way her usual carefree mask had cracked just a little. The way her eyes, despite the teasing, held something like genuine gratitude. She nudged you playfully. "Guess I owe you one, huh?"

"More like you owe me about a hundred at this point," you muttered, finally relaxing.

Yujin grinned. "Then I’ll start by buying you lunch. C’mon, bodyguard. Let’s eat."

And despite everything, despite the fact that this was supposed to be your day off, you found yourself walking beside her, watching her laugh like nothing had happened.

-

You should’ve known saving An Yujin would have consequences.

Not in the form of a promotion or a bonus (though you wouldn’t say no to either), but in the absolute menace she had become ever since that day.

At first, you thought you were imagining things—the longer stares, the way her lips curled mischievously whenever she caught your eye, the subtle brushes of her fingers against your arm whenever she passed by.

Then, the touches became more deliberate. The teasing got more frequent. The closeness is more unbearable.

It was like a switch had flipped. Suddenly, your personal space was no longer yours. And the worst part? She did it so naturally, like she had always been this clingy with you.

Just like this one morning at the company building—

"Mr. Bodyguaaard~" Yujin sang as she threw an arm over your shoulders, completely ignoring the amused stares of the staff around you. "Walk me to the practice room!"

You exhaled. "Yujin, You know I’m going there anyway."

"But this way is more fun." She tightened her grip, practically hanging off you.

You gave her a look. "...Do you have to be this close?"

"Yes," she said simply, grinning.

It only got worse after a long schedule. You were expecting Yujin to slump in exhaustion like she usually did. Instead, the moment she climbed into the van, she scooted over without hesitation, settling in way too close before dropping her head onto your shoulder with a satisfied sigh.

Your entire body stiffened.

"What are you doing?" you asked, voice flat, not daring to move.

"Getting comfortable," she mumbled, shifting slightly as if trying to mold herself against you.

Your brow twitched. "You have an entire seat to yourself."

"But I don’t want to sit alone," she said simply, eyes fluttering shut. "You’re warm."

Across from you, Wonyoung and Liz exchanged knowing looks.

"Oh no," Gaeul muttered, covering her mouth to hide a laugh.

"I don’t get it," Wonyoung whispered, glancing between you and Yujin. "Since when were they this close?"

Liz smirked. "Since someone got rescued and suddenly realized how cool their bodyguard is."

[jianwon]

TOUCH UP AND DOWNS — player 380

sypnosis. the usual chaos fades away when se-mi, the captivating actress, steps into your makeup station. her playful teasing and effortless charm unravel your carefully built composure, leaving you flustered. an unexpected gesture makes you confront feelings you hadn’t anticipated, leaving you questioning if this connection could be more than fleeting, one that might change everything.

part 2 part 3

content— actress!se-mi x fem!makeupartist!reader. pure fluff. flirting and romantic tension. mentions of squid game characters.

disclaimer. story is entirely fictional and in no way reflects real events, individuals, or their relationships. characters mentioned are fictional representations based on their on-screen personas.

wordcount. 1.2k words

the backstage area of the set was its own ecosystem, a controlled, buzzing chaos where the cast and crew functioned like cogs in a well-oiled, frenzied machine. green tracksuits were tossed onto racks, props were lost and found within minutes, and coffee cups piled up in forgotten corners. yet somehow, amidst the mess, you managed to carve out your own calm at your makeup station. it wasn’t much, just a small table cluttered with palettes, brushes, and bottles of setting spray.

your mornings were always the same, actors trickling in, each with their own quirks and complaints. today started with thanos, who planted himself in your chair with a dramatic groan.

“y/n-ah, you have no idea how much my body hurts,” he grumbled, stretching his arms as if he’d just run a marathon.

"maybe tone it down a bit and try not to act like such a daredevil." you teased, dipping your brush into some fake blood. "hey, i was trying to stay in character!” he protested, puffing his chest out like a proud schoolboy.

“your character dies in episode seven. what exactly were you preparing for?” nam-gyu chimed in from across the room, already in his disheveled tracksuit and inspecting himself in the mirror.

the two men launched into a mock argument while you worked, and you couldn’t help but laugh. the cast was like a dysfunctional family, always bickering, but never seriously. you’d become fond of their antics, even when they slowed you down.

when min-su walked in, grumbling about his hair as usual, the chaos only increased. "this look makes me look like i’m auditioning for a k-pop parody group,” he complained, plopping into the chair next to nam-gyu's.

myung-gi, who was already seated and scrolling on his phone, didn’t even look up before saying, “that’s an improvement from your regular look." the room erupted in laughter as min-su glared at him. “don’t make me mess up your makeup, hyung.”

“not before i do,” you muttered, adjusting his hair until it sat perfectly. “there. now you look less like a coconut.”

“gee, thanks,” min-su said with mock offense, though he grinned at you.

as the morning chaos gave way to quieter moments, you felt your heart do its usual nervous flip when se-mi entered the room. even amidst the energy of the set, se-mi had a presence that demanded attention. everything about her, her walk, her gaze, the effortless way she carried herself. they were magnetic.

“is it my turn yet, artist-nim?” she called with a playful nickname she’d teasingly given you, her voice cutting through the hum of activity like a soft melody. you swallowed hard and nodded, motioning to her chair. “y-yeah, come on over.”

"ready to work your magic and make me pretty?" she asks, settling into the chair with a grin. her fingers sweep through her short hair, brushing it back effortlessly. "pretty? you barely need me for that," you blurt out with a nervous snort, before immediately freezing, your cheeks heating up as the weight of your words sinks in.

"oh?" se-mi tilts her head back suddenly, her eyes locking onto yours. the unexpected movement makes you jump, nearly stumbling over your own feet.

"you're still nervous today," she observes, her voice light but her tone teasing. her gaze shifts to your reflection in the mirror, and her smirk deepens. "i can tell."

“i’m not nervous.” you lied, picking up a brush and focusing intently on your palette. she teased, leaning forward slightly. “then why are your hands shaking?”

your breath caught as you realized she was right. you forced yourself to steady your grip, determined not to let her fluster you any more than she already had. “just… stay still,” you managed, your voice quieter than usual.

as you leaned in to contour her cheekbones, se-mi tilted her head slightly, her smirk deepening. “you’re really good at this, you know,” she said, her tone softer now. “but you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

your heart skipped a beat, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from blurting something stupid. “thanks..” you muttered, with a soft smile, focusing on blending the makeup perfectly.

for a moment, the usual backstage chaos seemed to blur into the background. the distant chatter and clatter of equipment faded, replaced by the steady, deafening drumbeat of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. it was just the two of you, the air thick with an unspoken tension that made it impossible to focus on anything else.

“you’re blushing” se-mi whispered, breaking the spell. you pulled back abruptly, your face burning. “am not!” you said, though your voice betrayed you.

se-mi chuckled, a low, melodic sound that made your stomach do flips. “cute..” she said under her breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

the day moved forward, and with each passing hour, you grew more aware of the fact that it was se-mi’s final scene. she was one of the last actors to wrap, and the air backstage felt bittersweet. the rest of the cast had taken turns congratulating her, but when it came to your turn, you found yourself hesitating.

you watched from the monitors as she delivered her final scene, her performance so raw and emotional that it left a lump in your throat. when the director called cut, applause erupted on set, and se-mi smiled, wiping away tears as the crew cheered.

you were waiting at your station when she walked back, still dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “you okay?” you asked softly, holding out a pack of makeup wipes.

“yeah,” she said, her voice shaky but steady. “it just… doesn't feel real, you know?”

you nodded, unsure of what to say. instead, you focused on helping her clean off the remnants of her makeup and splatters of fake blood on her face, your hands moving with practiced precision.

“you were incredible,” you said after a moment, your voice barely above a whisper. se-mi looked at you, her gaze soft but intense. “thanks,” she said. “that means a lot coming from you.”

you hesitated, then blurted, “i’m really going to miss you.” her eyebrows lifted in surprise, but her smile quickly returned. “oh? gonna miss my face in your chair every day?”

“not just that,” you admitted, fiddling with the edge of the makeup wipe in your hand. “i’ll miss… you. it’s been nice having you around.”

se-mi studied you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. then, without a word, she reached over to the counter, grabbed a pen, and scribbled something on the edge of a makeup chart. she folded it neatly and handed it to you.

“what’s this?” you asked, your hands trembling slightly as you took it. “my number,” she said simply, her tone warm but teasing. “call me sometime, y/n. i think you’re cute.” your jaw dropped, and she leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “but don’t tell anyone, okay? gotta keep my cool image intact.”

she winked and walked off before you could respond, leaving you frozen in place with the paper clutched tightly in your hand. the chaos of backstage continued around you, but all you could focus on was the faint scent of se-mi’s perfume lingering in the air and the fluttering in your chest.

a/n— just letting you all know that my requests are open ! feel free to send me anything :)

[st3f13ily]

Dating The Impossible

• Reverse Romance Trope

• Instead of Fake dating, everyone is convinced you aren't dating.

• Itoshi Sae x Influencer Chaotic Reader

• Sorry, I don't really know how this will goes, probably gonna be confusing and all, I just put whatever is on my mind.

"You know how some people say their life is a rom-com? Yeah, no. Mine is more like a chaos-com. I wake up tangled in bedsheets like a burrito, burn half my breakfasts, and trip over absolutely nothing at least once a day. But hey, at least I make it look cute. Or so my fans say."

"You've probably seen me online."

"The loud, over-the-top influencer with an obsession for bubble tea, oversized hoodies, and singing off-key on live streams. Yeah, that's me. Sunshine's personality is a human disaster, and I'm proud of it. My life is like an endless string of events, collaborations, photoshoots, and the occasional scandal where people assume I'm dating half the industry just because I smiled too wide in a selfie."

"But... plot twist. The rumors were all wrong. The truth? I've been dating Sae Itoshi."

"Yes. That Sae Itoshi."

"The national heartthrob, soccer prodigy, king of the resting deadpan face. The man who kicks balls for a living and somehow looks like he invented the concept of "too cool to care." That's my boyfriend."

"Shocking, right? I know, I know. You're probably making the same face my best friend did when I told her."

"Mouth open, brain error, blue screen."

"But!—ah, ah, ah—before I spill the tea on how that happened... let's rewind."

"It wasn't on a fancy red carpet or an exclusive afterparty."

"Nope. The universe had something more... clumsy planned."

"It was just another Tuesday. I was running late, of course, because of punctuality and I have never been on speaking terms. Sunglasses perched on my head, iced coffee in one hand, and phone in the other, trying to post a "good morning" selfie to my feed without walking into traffic. Multitasking: my toxic trait."

"And then, boom."

"Literally. I slammed right into someone."

"My coffee went flying, my phone almost joined it, and I stumbled back like a cartoon character. I looked up, ready to apologize to whoever the poor soul was and there he stood."

"Tall. Cool. Expression flat enough to rival the moon’s surface."

"A guy in casual clothes, baseball cap pulled low, hands stuffed in his pockets like he’d rather be anywhere else."

"And me? The clueless fool who thought. Huh. Cute stranger."

"I had no idea I'd just bumped into Itoshi Sae himself. And him? Oh, he definitely thought I was just another random, overly smiley girl with zero spatial awareness."

"Funny, right?"

"But, I'm getting ahead of myself again. You want the real story, don't you? The how, the why, the wait, really? moments."

"Well... hold tight. Because that, my lovely little chaos crew, is a story for another day."

"And speaking of stories, my livestream timer's blinking at me. Time to hit the "Go Live" button and let the circus begin."

"Story starts now: me, my camera, my fans, and one accidental love story I never saw coming."

.....

.....

.....

.....

Beep.

Beep.

BEEEEEP.

You swatted your alarm clock like it had personally insulted your family name, groaning into your pillow. Five more minutes. Just five more, universe, please. But the sun was already slapping you across the face through your curtains like it had a personal vendetta.

Reluctantly, you peeled yourself from your cozy blanket cocoon and rolled out of bed emphasis on rolled because grace was never part of your brand. You did a little zombie shuffle toward the bathroom, catching sight of your bedhead in the mirror.

"Wow. A masterpiece." you mumbled to yourself, finger-combing your tangled mess like it would magically fix anything. Spoiler: it didn't.

Your morning routine was a wild mix of chaos and caffeine. Face wash? Check. Skincare? Check—uhhhhhh—mostly. Coffee? Priority number one. You fired up your machine and did a little dance while waiting, humming off-key to whatever pop song was stuck in your head. You were halfway through pouring your coffee when your phone buzzed.

[Your BFF]: 𝗔𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲??

You grinned, sending back: 𝗕𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗹𝘆. 𝗖𝗼𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁, 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱.

You flopped onto the couch with your mug and pulled out your phone, opening your livestream app. Your followers were already leaving comments on your last post:

"You're late today, queen!"

"She lives!! What's the chaos plan for today?"

You snorted into your coffee, holding up your phone for a quick selfie.

"Good morning, chaos crew!" you chirped to your camera. "Guess who overslept again? Spoiler: it's me. But plot twist, today I have a story. And it's about a certain someone."

You paused, flashing your most dramatic grin.

"But before that, let's talk about the day I met him. Because wow. Absolute definition of 'meet-cute,' minus the cute, mostly just me being a hazard to society."

You leaned back, letting the memory replay in your head.

It was an ordinary day. Well, as ordinary as your life ever got. You had a brand meeting to rush to, and as usual, you were running late because you couldn't pick an outfit. One minute you were posing for mirror selfies in your oversized hoodie, the next you were panicking because your Uber was two streets away and you couldn't find your left shoe. Classic you.

With only two brain cells firing on pure iced coffee and hope, you dashed out of your apartment, phone in one hand, drink in the other, and zero focus on the sidewalk ahead. You were too busy typing a caption for your next post, something about the universe always testing your time management skills, when the world decided to humble you.

Crash.

You slammed chest-first into someone.

Your iced coffee did an Olympic-level flip, your phone wobbled dangerously in your hand, and you stumbled back two steps, blinking like a deer in ring light.

"Whoa—sorry, I wasn't looking!" you blurted out, brushing imaginary dust off your clothes and finally daring to look up.

And there he was.

The stranger.

Tall, and lean, hoodie, cap pulled low, and hands in his pockets like life was just a long waiting room. His expression? A mix of boredom and 'Why is this human in my personal space?'

At the time, you didn't recognize him. To you, he was just another person having the misfortune of existing on the same chaotic sidewalk as you.

But him? Oh, he definitely looked at you like you were just another hyper, overcaffeinated civilian with no spatial awareness. Probably filed you away as background noise and kept walking.

You, being the ray of unbothered sunshine you were, had just smiled wide and waved, as if you hadn't nearly caused a traffic accident with your face.

"Have a good day, mystery man!" you chirped before bouncing off, completely unaware that you'd just met Sae Itoshi.

The Sae Itoshi.

The soccer prodigy. The media darling. The human iceberg.

And soon-to-be... your boyfriend.

You grinned at the memory, shaking your head as your chat flooded with emojis and question marks

"But—ah, ah, ah—that's just the beginning," you teased, sipping your coffee dramatically. "You thought I’d spill all the tea in one sitting? Pfft. Stay tuned, chaos crew. You know I live for the plot twists."

You winked at your camera, stretching your arms with a happy little hum.

"So, where were we? Right—me, being a disaster, and the world's most unexpected love story. But that's for the next stream."

And with that, you ended the live, leaving your fans screaming in the chat for more.

You sort of love it when your fans suffer.

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

You were lounging on your bed, blanket wrapped around your legs like a burrito, phone propped up against a water bottle, livestream running full blast. The chat was already exploding with:

"You left us hanging last time!!"

"Tell us about the first REAL conversation!!"

"DID YOU FALL OR DID YOU FLY?? Spill!!"

You laughed, cheeks hurting from smiling.

"Okay, okay, okay, calm down, gremlins." You raised your hands like you were surrendering to the internet police. "So last time, I told you about the day I bumped into him. Literally. But you thought the universe would let me off with one accidental meeting? Oh, honey. No, no."

You shifted to lie on your stomach, kicking your feet behind you.

"It kept happening. Like, a lot. I thought I was the main character in a bad rom-com."

You tilted your head back, replaying the memories like your own private highlight reel.

The second time was the most random. You'd been at that cute little coffee shop you loved, the one that did those overly fancy heart-shaped lattes you always pretended to hate but secretly adored. You were waiting for your order, nose buried in your phone, when someone brushed past you.

You looked up, and there he was again. Mystery Man. Hoodie, cap, same blank expression. For a second, you thought your brain had glitched. Wasn't this the guy you’d run into like, a week ago?

He didn't recognize you, or at least, if he did, he was very committed to pretending he didn't. You'd watched him leave with his black coffee like some kind of aesthetic Pinterest post, and you'd stood there clutching your caramel frappé like, Huh. Weird.

But it didn't stop there.

A few days later, different place, the same weird coincidence. You'd been out at the park, earbuds in, walking your snack-fueled guilt off when you spotted him again, sitting on a bench, casually scrolling his phone as if he belonged in the background.

At first, you thought, Okay, world, nice try. People exist. Whatever. But by the fourth time, when you ran into him at that tiny sushi place you swore no one else but you and your bestie knew about. You couldn't take it anymore.

You'd straight-up stared at him across the room, your mouth half full of rice, eyebrows raised so high they nearly left your forehead.

And the moment your eyes met? He raised his brow right back.

So you did what any reasonable, mature adult would do.

You marched right up to his table, planted your hands on your hips, tilted your head, and blurted out:

"Are you stalking me or do I just have main character syndrome?"

Silence. Dead silence. The poor waiter passing by almost choked on air.

And for the first time, the guy cracked the tiniest, barely-there smile like you'd just told a joke only he got. He tilted his head, lazily resting his chin on his hand and replied, "Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing."

You had stared at him, blinked, and then dramatically pointed a finger at him like some bootleg detective.

"Hah! Suspicious!"

Your chat was going insane by now, spamming.

"SHE LITERALLY SAID ‘STALKER’ LMAO"

"HE SMILED?!? That's a world record!"

"He was so calm too, I'm wheezing."

You grinned at your phone.

"Yeah, I know right? The man was so calm like his entire personality was set to 'unbothered.' Meanwhile, I'm the one flailing through life like a caffeinated pigeon."

You sipped your drink, shaking your head at the memory.

"At that point, I didn't even know who he was, not really. Just thought he was some suspiciously attractive stranger who clearly had a talent for showing up wherever I existed. Turns out... well, you guys know the plot twist already."

You let out a dreamy little sigh, flopping onto your back.

"But that was just the start. You think that's the cute part? Oh, no, no, no, chaos crew. The universe was just warming up."

You flashed a wink at the camera.

"Next stream, I'll tell you the part where I found out the truth. About who he really was."

You raised your glass like a toast.

"And spoiler alert: my jaw hit the floor. See you next time!"

You ended the live, still smiling like an idiot, heart full of those silly, sweet memories.

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

You tug your hoodie over your head, slumping deeper into the cold, unforgiving airport chair while the distant hum of suitcase wheels and boarding calls blend into background noise. One earbud dangles loose, the other blasting your "waiting-around" playlist at a volume slightly unhealthy for your eardrums.

Your phone rests against your knee, the livestream chat already buzzing like a hive of nosy bees.

"WHERE are you going?? Stop gatekeeping."

"Tell us, tell us! Your airport fit is 10/10 tho."

"Are you going somewhere or is this Kidnapping??!! Blink twice if you need help!!"

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING??"

"Airport fit check pls??"

You chuckle under your breath, stretching your legs out until your sneakers nudge your suitcase.

"Yeah, yeah. I know you're all dying to know, but I'm not telling you yet. Let's just say... it's gonna be a long few hours, and the flight's not boarding anytime soon."

You leaned back, stretching your legs out, sneakers tapping against the floor.

"So I figured, since we're all here, stuck together in digital purgatory, why not tell you the rest of the story? The full, uncut, slightly embarrassing tale of how I ended up with Sae Itoshi."

The chat exploded again, and you snorted, holding up a hand.

"Calm down, calm down! You already know about the 'Are you stalking me?' moment." You grinned at the memory. "But that wasn't the last time we crossed paths. Oh no, the universe was playing the long game."

You licked your lips, settling in like you were about to spill ancient gossip.

"Turns out, I was working on this brand deal, you know, usual influencer stuff, smile, wave, pretend I don’t trip over my own feet in front of professional cameras. My manager told me there was this promotional event, super casual, nothing fancy. Show up, look cute, shake hands, snap photos. Easy."

"What she forgot to mention was that it wasn't just some small event. No, no, it was one of those 'shared space' promo collabs. You know, influencers meet athletes, actors, streamers, the whole 'everyone's famous except you' type vibe. I was barely surviving the social anxiety."

You gestured at your own face, chuckling.

"And then, guess who walks in. The same guy I called a stalker—Sae. Freaking. Itoshi."

You paused for dramatic silence, watching the chat spam screaming emojis and caps-lock confessions of second-hand embarrassment.

"And the worst part? I still didn't know his full name. Not until the event started, and the host announced it like it was some royal entrance. 'Football star Itoshi Sae, everyone!' And I just—I swear my soul left my body."

You covered your face, laughing into your hands.

"I was standing there holding a plate of free desserts and staring at him like I'd seen a ghost. He? Oh, he was perfectly fine. Cool, calm, like this was just Tuesday for him."

You shift in your seat, tugging your hood lower, and let the memory pull you under.

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The sky had been that weird, in-between colour, not quite sunny, not quite cloudy, just hanging there like it couldn’t commit to a mood. You were half-jogging, half-power-walking toward your favourite café, craving something sugary and caffeinated to survive your schedule.

Just five minutes of peace, you'd thought, before the next shoot, the next meeting, the next 'smile for the camera.'

The second you pushed the café door open, the little bell above the frame jingled and there he was. The same guy. Cool expression, soccer-star hair, the casual posture of someone who was definitely not expecting you either.

You froze mid-step, recognizing that sharp jawline and those ocean-glass eyes.

No way. No freaking way.

And he glanced up from his drink, raising one eyebrow like he'd just spotted a UFO. No fanboy moment, no awkwardness, just that signature, unimpressed Sae Itoshi stare.

You blinked, too stunned to even remember your coffee craving. "You again?" you blurted, before your brain could filter the words.

He sipped his drink like you weren't real. "Should I be asking you that?"

The universe clearly had jokes, because this wasn't the last time either. After that café, you saw him at a restaurant, same casual lean against the counter, the same unreadable face. Then at the park. Then at a bookstore. Every time you locked eyes, it was the same little pause, like both of you were waiting for the punchline.

The fourth or fifth accidental meetup, you'd finally folded your arms, tilting your head at him, amusement bubbling out before you could stop yourself.

"Alright, are YOU stalking me?" you'd asked, deadpan but half-laughing.

For the first time, his lips twitched into something dangerously close to a smirk.

"No." he'd replied, gaze flicking to you and back. "If I were, you'd never catch me."

And you had stood there, flustered, annoyingly charmed, and wondering if he'd always been this infuriatingly smooth.

But the real twist came later, your manager dropped the bomb about the upcoming event.

"A crossover gig." she'd said, breezy like it wasn't life-ruining. "You're going to meet some athletes and shoot some promo stuff. Super chill."

You'd thought nothing of it, until you showed up at the venue, makeup barely set, nerves barely managed, and there he was. Again.

This time, his name wasn't a mystery. The host's voice boomed through the speakers like an announcement in some royal court.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome Itoshi Sae!"

And you? Standing there like an absolute clown, holding some candies you snuck into your bag without your manager looking. Staring at the man you'd mistaken for a random guy for weeks.

I am going to dig a hole right here and move in.

The worst part wasn't even the reveal, it was how unbothered he looked. Smooth, sharp, camera-ready. Until the event wrapped, the photos were done, and he passed you in the hallway, hands in his pockets.

"Still think I’m stalking you?" he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear.

Your heart had done a perfect backflip right into your stomach.

I'm doomed, you'd thought, completely doomed.

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The airport speakers crackle, calling out some other flight and the chat floods your screen like you'd just dropped the juiciest scandal.

"OMG stop, the candy part got me dead."

"YOU MET HIM SO MANY TIMES AND DIDN'T KNOW??? Girl."

"How are you not married to him already, I'm crying."

You snort, flipping your phone so the camera only catches your eyes, full of fake dramatic regret.

"Yup, that's the story. The universe was practically waving a red flag in my face, and I still didn't get it. But hey, I never said I was smart."

You grin, voice going soft.

"That was the beginning of the mess, though. Things only got weirder, funnier, and... well, better from there."

You glance at the flight board, the 'Delayed' sign still glowing. Plenty of time to keep the story going.

"Should I tell you what happened after that event?" You tilt your head, teasing. "You might wanna grab snacks for this one."

You rested your chin on your palm, the corners of your lips twitching upward at the memory.

"But noooope. Plot twist, we kept running into each other even after that. Like, the universe wasn't done embarrassing me."

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It started with the afterparty.

You weren't even supposed to stay long. Your manager had warned you: "Just smile, mingle, and leave before anyone asks awkward questions." But you'd stayed for the free food. Because of priorities.

You were swiping the last mini cupcake from a passing tray when you noticed him, standing alone by the balcony doors, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. Same suit, same cool stare, but there was something... so normal about him when he wasn't surrounded by flashing cameras and interviews.

You hadn't meant to walk over. Honestly. Your feet just moved.

"Hey, stalker." you'd greeted, cupcake half-raised to your mouth.

He glanced your way, eyebrows lifting slightly.

"You've got the roles reversed." he murmured, sipping his drink, "I was here first."

You'd grinned around the cupcake. "Pfft. Technicality."

It was small, that first conversation. You talked about nothing, the music, the cheap wine, how awkward those ‘stand here and smile’ photos were. And when you'd finally left the party, you were sure that was the last of it.

But then came the run-ins. Again.

At the bookstore. At the same street-side ramen place. At the stupid laundromat of all places.

Each time, the same exchange.

You: "Okay, this is getting suspicious."

Him: Deadpan. "I live here. You're the one following me."

The universe was clearly shipping you two harder than your entire fanbase ever could.

But the real kicker came a week later when your manager ambushed you mid-photoshoot with a new assignment.

"Big commercial gig. Big brands, crossover style, you'll be working with athletes again."

You didn't even flinch this time. Please let it be someone normal, you'd prayed silently, half-joking.

Spoiler alert: it wasn't.

The day of the shoot, you arrived early, coffee in hand, only to find him sitting on the armrest of the studio sofa, completely at ease, scrolling through his phone like he owned the place.

The second your eyes met, he locked his phone and gave you the faintest nod, almost amused.

"Guess you're stuck with me again." he muttered.

You'd raised your cup like it was a toast. "Could be worse."

And honestly? It could've. The more you worked together that day, the more the weirdness of ‘Itoshi Sae the world-class footballer’ faded away. He was sharp, calm, and maddeningly good at making your heart do cartwheels with a single glance. But also... surprisingly soft-spoken, and just the right amount of sarcastic to match your chaos.

When the cameras weren't rolling, the two of you sat on the studio floor, sharing a pack of sour candies you’d stashed in your bag, the conversation flipping between random nonsense and quiet silences.

At some point, you caught yourself thinking.

Huh. This isn't so bad. Actually... it’s kinda nice.

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You blinked, pulling yourself out of the memory, stretching your arms overhead like the story had physically weighed on you.

"Yeah." you muttered into the mic, "That's when things got... complicated. After that shoot, we started texting. Then hanging out. Not the usual ‘post it on Instagram and make it obvious’ kind of way. Just... quiet."

Your thumb swiped the chat, watching your fans lose their collective minds.

"I KNEW IT. Texting is the gateway to the heart."

"You two were so private, we thought you were single fr."

"So you're telling me this was a soft slow burn all along?!"

You smiled to yourself, your heart swelling just a little as you stared at the screen.

"Yup. No fancy announcements, no PDA, no hints on social media. Just... us. And honestly, I liked it that way."

You leaned back, glancing at the flight board again.

"But I'm getting ahead of myself." you teased. "If you want the full tea—the real ‘how we actually got together’ story—you're gonna need snacks, drinks, maybe a pillow, because that part?"

You tilted your head toward the camera, grinning wide.

"That's a whole saga on its own."

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

You leaned your head against the cold airport window, watching planes blink through the foggy glass while your phone rested comfortably against your knee, still live, your chat buzzing like a beehive.

You were mid-sentence, rambling about the "friendly" phase, when your brain hit that memory, the moment things stopped being just friendly.

Your lips twitched into a soft, secret smile.

"Alright, alright, so here's the part everyone wants." you chuckled, stretching your legs out in front of you. "You've all been dying to know how it went from texting, hanging out, to... official, right?"

The chat exploded with caps and emojis.

You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly.

"Yeah, the thing is... he never actually asked. Like—no ‘will you be my girlfriend?’ no rom-com confession under the rain, no dramatic gestures. It was just... Sae being Sae."

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

It had been months.

Months of quiet coffee shop meetups, walking side by side with your hands brushing but never quite touching, late-night texts about the dumbest things, and his deadpan humor paired perfectly with your endless chaos.

And then one ordinary night, the two of you were sitting on his apartment balcony, the Tokyo skyline stretched out before you like an endless string of stars. You were bundled in his oversized hoodie—correction: permanently borrowed hoodie, sipping canned peach soda, while Sae scrolled through something on his phone, utterly relaxed.

The silence wasn't awkward. It never was with him.

Out of nowhere, without even looking up, he spoke:

"You know my schedule, right? Next season's gonna be worse."

You glanced over, raising a brow. "Yeah, your manager already sent me the doomsday calendar."

His lips curved into a faint smirk. "Then you'll have to deal with it."

You blinked. "Deal with what?"

"You. Being stuck with me." He finally tilted his head, looking at you sideways, eyes soft but so unreadable. "You're already here all the time, anyway."

The soda can slipped slightly in your hands.

Wait... is this... is he... asking?

You tilted your head, squinting suspiciously. "Are you... asking me to be your girlfriend without asking me to be your girlfriend?"

His expression didn't even flinch. "If you need me to spell it out, you're dumber than I thought."

You gasped, mock-offended, shoving his shoulder lightly. "Excuse me?!"

But before you could launch into a dramatic fake argument, he reached over, pulling you back gently by the sleeve of his hoodie. His hand stayed there, warm and steady against your arm, anchoring you in place.

"That wasn't a question," he added, voice low but steady.

And just like that, that was it. No grand announcement, no perfect moment. Just simple, real, and entirely him.

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Your fingers absentmindedly fidgeted with the zipper of your jacket, the memory lingering like warmth in your chest.

"Yeah... that’s how it happened," you told your audience, your grin softening. "No dramatic confessions, no fairytale scenes. Just him deciding we were already together without me even realizing it."

The chat blew up in every direction.

"HE JUST CLAIMED YOU LIKE THAT???"

"Sae Itoshi pulled the ‘you're mine, you just don’t know it’ move?? I'm screaming."

"Girl that wasn't even a question. That was a declaration!!"

You laughed, stretching out your legs again, letting the warmth of that night sink in all over again.

"Yeah," you whispered, half to yourself, half to the stream. "That's just... him."

The airport speakers crackled with another delay announcement, and you groaned, flopping back against the chair like your soul had just left your body.

"Guess I've got plenty of time to spill the rest now," you told your phone, your live stream still going strong, chat still wild, even though you were only halfway through your long-winded, slightly embarrassing love story.

You twisted your fingers into your hoodie strings, eyes flicking toward the camera, a little mischievous spark dancing behind your smile.

"So, here's the fun part. When we finally decided to tell people... no one believed us." You let the words hang for dramatic effect.

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You flopped face-first onto your bed, phone dangling from your hand, notifications still blowing up your screen like a mini firework show. Your social feed was chaos—memes, clips, conspiracy theories, fan edits— and all for the same ridiculous reason.

The public didn't believe you and Sae were actually dating.

You groaned into your pillow.

"Why. Why is the world like this?"

Just earlier that week, you finally decided to post that one photo, the soft, cozy one of you wearing his hoodie, feet propped up on his coffee table, his unmistakable blue-and-white game jersey draped on the back of the couch in the background.

The caption was simple:

"Soft launch? Nah. Full send."

And Sae, the man of zero social media energy, actually liked it.

But instead of hearts and celebration, the media? The fans? The blogs?

𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌?

𝙿𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚝?

𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚝?

They refused to believe it. Your chaotic, sunshine personality, the influencer who couldn't sit still for five seconds, with Japan's most stone-faced, deadpan soccer prince? They weren't buying it.

Truth was, you avoided his matches like the plague.

Sure, you loved seeing him play, but you didn't love the VIP section. You hated the constant camera pans, the forced smiles, and the announcers awkwardly mentioning you every five minutes like you were the main event instead of him.

And even if you could handle that, the crowd wasn’t much better.

"Why do you even go, if all you do is get stared at?" you remembered Sae asking, poking the straw in your drink lazily as the two of you hid in a quiet little ramen shop once.

"Exactly! I don't," you shot back. "You wanna know how awkward it is to sit there, every second feeling like I should wave or pose for the camera? I'm not tryna be the soccer wife template, okay?"

And as usual, Sae just nodded, no offense taken, no guilt tripped, just casually accepting your boundaries without blinking.

And the interviews? His manager probably sent him a dozen pre-approved questions about you every week, and he still answered the same way:

"Private life's got nothing to do with the field."

"Next question."

"No comment."

You loved him for that. But the world? They took it as proof you were all for show.

You rolled onto your back, clutching your phone to your chest dramatically.

"I want everyone to know you're mine, damn it!" you whined out loud, even though Sae wasn't even in the room.

Your phone buzzed, and speak of the devil, his name flashed across your screen.

A text, short as always.

Sae: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?

You typed back furiously, thumbs moving like you were fighting for your life.

You: 𝐘𝐄𝐒. 𝐈 𝐚𝐦! 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐈𝐦 𝐟𝐚𝐤𝐞-𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮! 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬? 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬!!

A few seconds passed.

Another buzz.

Sae: 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞.

You let out the most dramatic gasp, holding your chest like you’d been mortally wounded.

He doesn't care. He's so... him.

But even in the middle of your whiny pout, your phone vibrated once more, and his last message made your stomach flip

Sae: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬.

Your lips twitched into a defeated smile.

Yeah. That's true.

Bonus: Later that week, you caught him scrolling past some article about your "fake" relationship. His only reaction?

"Tch. They're dumb."

And then he slid his phone back into his pocket, grabbed your hand, and squeezed it liked the whole world could fall away and he'd still be fine, as long as you were beside him.

It wasn't just the fans.

It wasn't just the media.

It was everyone.

Even your own best friend.

You sat cross-legged on your couch, phone balanced on your knee, holding back a groan while your bestie's voice played through the speaker like the most supportive but suspicious customer service rep on Earth.

"So… Sae Itoshi, huh?" they hummed, voice full of that polite, careful tone people use when they think you’re about to tell them you joined a pyramid scheme. "You're really serious about this?"

You flopped onto your back dramatically, one arm tossed over your face.

"Yes, I'm serious! Why does nobody ever believe me?!"

Your best friend laughed, soft but teasing.

"It's just... you only post about him once or twice a week then it's just you with your routine. You're always hanging out with me or working. And he doesn't mention you in interviews either, so…"

You sat up and grabbed a throw pillow, clutching it like a lifeline.

"Because we like being private! You know how insane people are about celeb couples. We don't need the world crawling up our noses."

Your best friend didn't sound mean about it, or even doubtful in a harsh way, just unconvinced in that "I love you, but I’m side-eyeing this" way.

"Well, if it's real, I'm happy for you. But I'll believe it when I see him at a family dinner or something."

You froze.

Family dinner. Right. That wasn't helping your case either.

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Your family was no better.

Every group call, every visit, every holiday, someone always asked the same thing:

"Are you still seeing that soccer guy?"

"Yes, I am!"

And always, the same suspicious, supportive-but-totally-judging smile.

"Mhm. Must be hard, dating a busy man like that. You two probably don't see each other much, huh?"

You wanted to yeet your phone across the room every time.

It wasn't their fault.

They weren’t being cruel, or bitter, in fact, they were probably trying to avoid sounding jealous.

But they hadn't seen Sae show up at birthdays, or in your Insta stories, or on the group vacations.

And every time you'd try to explain the situation, the words sounded faker and faker even to your own ears.

"He's busy with training."

"He doesn't like social media."

"We like keeping things private."

"It's not that serious to everyone else, but it is to us."

You knew it was true. You knew Sae wasn't some trophy boyfriend for display. But you also knew how invisible your relationship looked to the outside world.

The meet-and-greet was in full swing. Flashing lights, smiles so wide your cheeks hurt, laughter so loud it made your ears ring — you were in your natural habitat, bouncing from fan to fan like a hyper, overcaffeinated puppy.

You signed merch, posed for selfies, gave out warm hugs, and listened to all the sweet things your fans had to say.

"You're literally the best person ever."

"You make my day so much brighter."

"You're my comfort streamer, always."

And then, the classic.

"So… are you really dating Sae Itoshi?"

You smiled, the same smile you'd mastered over the past few months. The yes-it's-true-but-nobody-believes-me-anyway smile.

"Yup! Totally. 100%."

Cue the polite giggles.

They didn't mean it in a mean way. In fact, you loved how playful your fans were about it. But deep down, it still poked at you like an itch you couldn't scratch.

They were so sure it was fake.

Why wouldn't they be? You and Sae were barely ever seen together unless a manager forced it. You hated attending his matches. He hated social media. It all lined up too perfectly, like the plot of every fake celebrity romance scandal.

You'd whined about it to him just last night. Practically buried your face in his chest, grumbling like a five-year-old.

"Why won't anyone believe me? I want the whole world to know you're mine!"

And like always, he'd just ruffled your hair, kissed your forehead, and said.

"Let them think what they want. I know what’s real."

But apparently, Sae Itoshi had a limit, too.

Because while you were grinning at the next fan in line, mid-conversation, halfway through signing your name on a hoodie, the room shifted.

There were gasps, murmurs, and the kind of hush that only happens when someone so unexpected, so untouchable, walks into the room.

You lifted your head and froze.

Standing casually near the back, hands in his pockets like this was the most normal thing in the world, was Sae Itoshi himself.

Your jaw dropped.

Before you could even string a single thought together, he was walking toward you, eyes locked on yours like there was no one else in the world. And without stopping, without saying a word, without hesitation.

He leaned in and kissed you.

Soft but confident. No over-the-top drama, no staged posing. Just real. Simple. Certain.

When he pulled back, the silence was deafening. For once in your chaotic, noisy life, you were speechless.

Your fans were quiet, wide-eyed, some blinking like they’d just been hit by the plot twist of the century. But not in a bad way. No hate. Just pure, I-can't-believe-I-just-witnessed-that energy.

You blinked up at him, your voice breathless but happy, giddy from the surprise.

"What are you doing here??"

Sae tilted his head slightly, his signature deadpan expression softening at the corners.

"You kept whining about nobody believing you."

A pause.

"I can't take it anymore. So here I am, making sure they're convinced we're together until the end."

You wanted to melt into the floor.

The fans, finally breaking out of their stunned silence, burst into soft claps and cheers. No screaming chaos, no wild frenzy, just a wave of warm, supportive acceptance like, "Well, damn. Guess it was real all along."

And just like that...

All your whining finally paid off.

You couldn't stop smiling even as the meet-and-greet wrapped up, Sae waiting nearby like the world’s most casually overprotective boyfriend, hands tucked in his pockets, eyes glancing toward you every few minutes.

And this time, when you scrolled through your notifications later that night, the headlines weren't speculating with assumptions anymore.

Confirmed: Itoshi Sae And Our Influencer Queen Are Officially Together. For Real.

You stretch your arms above your head, rolling your neck side to side as the loudspeaker overhead calls out another delayed flight. Your phone, propped up against your coffee cup on the little table, is still going strong, the live stream timer blinking away.

The screen is flooded with hearts, emojis, and comment after comment, your fans practically vibrating through the chat.

You let out a small yawn, your voice light and teasing.

"—And that, my friends, is the full story. Yup. That’s how your favourite chaotic influencer and Mr Ice-Block Sae Itoshi became a thing." You grin at the camera, lifting your drink for a little toast. "No fake dating, no PR stunt, just real-deal feelings and a very stubborn soccer boy who took his sweet time making everyone believe me."

The comments start rolling in faster now that you finally stopped talking, and you lean closer, eyes flicking across the screen.

"OKAY OKAY I BELIEVE YOU NOW MY QUEEN I’M SORRY."

"THE WAY I DIDN'T BELIEVE YOU FOR MONTHS I FEEL SO DUMB."

"I KNEW IT! I FREAKING KNEW IT! You two are so real I'm crying."

"Plot twist: Sae is the softest boyfriend behind the scenes."

"Her telling the whole story at an airport like a rom-com main character."

You chuckle under your breath, heart swelling a little at the waves of support finally pouring in. The very people who doubted you for so long were now spamming apologies, excitement, and even edits waiting to be made the second this livestream ended.

You leaned back in the chair, looking out at the huge glass windows where planes rolled slowly across the runway. Your lips curl into a smile, fingers tapping against your cup.

"See?" you mutter under your breath, knowing full well Sae isn't here to hear it. "Told you they'd believe me eventually."

The screen blinks again with another message from a fan.

"Now tell us, where are you flying off to, Queen?"

You smirk playfully at the camera, pressing a finger to your lips.

"Ah, ah, ah—that's for me and a certain someone to know. Spoilers, you know?"

And just like that, the screen explodes with more theories, more hearts, and more love.

You close your eyes for a moment, listening to the soft airport hum, your mind wandering to the boy who'd flipped your world upside down without even trying, the boy who wasn't so icy, once the cameras stopped rolling.

You're still grinning at the endless flood of comments lighting up your phone screen, fans spamming:

"WHERE YOU GOING?"

"IS SAE PICKING YOU UP??"

"TELL USSSSS."

When suddenly—A voice from behind, smooth and slightly amused, cuts through the airport noise.

"So that's why you didn't greet me."

Your breath catches, and your whole body stiffens for half a second before you whip your head around. There he stands, casual as ever in a hoodie and cap, hands in his pockets, Itoshi Sae.

You blink like your brain short-circuited.

Oh.

He's here.

The chat explodes the moment the camera catches the hint of him standing behind you, leaning over slightly to glance at the screen. The comments spiral into full-blown chaos:

"IS THAT SAE?????"

"WHAT THE ACTUAL—"

"NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY."

"SAE APPEARED IN THE FLESH. CONFIRMED."

"I CAN'T BREATHE."

You laugh, cheeks heating up as you tilt the phone slightly toward him, watching as Sae raises a brow at the scrolling flood of reactions. He gives the camera the most casual glance, like he hadn't just walked into your live stream unannounced, and then looks back at you.

"You done?" he asks.

Because, of course, he knows you've been here talking about him for who-knows-how-long.

You roll your eyes playfully, bringing your hand up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "Almost," you reply with a soft grin, turning your attention back to your fans, who are practically foaming at the mouth at this point.

You lift your left hand, casually wiggling your ring finger right in front of the camera, the glint of a sleek, simple ring catching the light. Your grin widens when you say, sweet as ever:

"Oh, right. Almost forgot to mention—we're engaged."

And with that, you reach over and hit the "End Stream" button, the last thing your fans see being your smug little wink and the chat blowing up so fast the app almost lags.

Phone off, you glance back at Sae, who—for once—lets out the softest huff of a laugh.

"You just had to drop that like a bomb, huh?" he mutters.

You sling your bag over your shoulder, nudging him lightly. "You didn't want me whining anymore, remember? Plus, I love it when I leave my fans with cliffhangers."

And without another word, he reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, as the two of you stroll off toward the gate, away from the flashing cameras, the exploding comments, and the doubters.

Just the two of you.

Till the end.

[koiiiji]

lookism x reader. between takes

summary ; lookism actually is a series, and all guys are just actors, same as you, so you happen to meet with them backstage.

starring ; seongji, jungoo, jongun, gimyong

SEONGJI x demon!reader

the bustling film set was alive with energy. you were taking a break from your role, when you spotted Seongji Yook across the lot. his team was filming scenes for “lookism,” in the mountains of cheongliang too. you couldn't help but smile at the sight of your friend. Seongji noticed you and waved, making his way over with a grin. “nice horns. going for a new look?”

you laughed, adjusting your tail. “just trying something different. how’s the day going on your end?” he shrugged, glancing at his hands and feet. “i feel kinda weird with this,” he said, gesturing to the fake extra finger on each hand and foot.

“really?” you asked ironically, pointing at your demoniacal makeup, horns on your forehead and the tail behind you. “i think we’re both quite the spectacle here”

as you both found a quiet spot to sit, the conversation flowed easily. you talked about your roles, shared behind-the-scenes stories, and teased each other about your costumes.

“you make a pretty convincing demon,” Seongji said, his tone teasing yet sincere. “i’d say you’re stealing the show.”

“thanks, but i think you’re the real star,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “i saw you on set, your scenes have been incredible, your appearance in “lookism” will blow the whole show.”

there was a comfortable silence, the kind only shared between good friends. yet beneath it, there was an unspoken tension, that nobody dared to speak about. Seongji leaned back, watching the crew set up for the next scene. “you know, i’ve always admired how dedicated you are to your roles.”

your heart skipped a beat, his words feeling more personal than casual. “thank you, Seongji, i really appreciate it!”

and before you knew it, the break was over, and you both had to return to your sets. as you stood, Seongji hesitated for a moment. “hey, maybe we could grab dinner after filming wraps up?”

the invitation hung in the air, filled with possibilities. “i’d like that,” you replied, trying to contain your excitement.

with a shared smile, you parted ways, the encounter leaving you with a sense of anticipation.

JUNGOO x pirate!reader

cozy coffee shop was bustling with the morning crowd. you felt a bit out of place in your full pirate costume — with oversized shirt, high knee boots and tight corset, complete with a big hat adorned with feathers and all small accessories everywhere. your team took a break from filming, you all needed a caffeine boost. as you waited for your order, the door chimed, and in walked Jungoo Kim. you heard that his team filming “lookism” somewhere near your location. his costume torn in some spots and covered in fake blood, his skin in bruises from a fight scene and hair is messy. despite his rough appearance, he carried himself with his usual charismatic confidence.

your eyes met briefly, and you both did a double take. you recognized him instantly — you kinda were his fan, he is an actor you secretly admired and respected.

he recognized you as well, approaching with a playful grin, trying to play it cool. “ahoy there, captain,” he called out with a playful grin as he sauntered over. “looking for treasure, or have you already stolen it with that outfit?”

you laughed, tipping your hat. “just trying to keep myself and the crew in line.” you smiled, waving your head to the side where your set colleagues were sitting, feeling your cheeks warm. “and what about you, mister criminal? fighting off enemies before breakfast?”

Jungoo smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. “thought i’d see if the rumors were true about a captivating pirate queen causing a stir. seems they were right.”

you leaned back on the counter, smiling conspiratorially at him, playing along with his little performance, “ah, so you're not here by chance, and it's you the one who are looking for treasure here” you smiled teasingly, lifting your chin, the feathers on your hat trembled slightly.

“well, you caught me,” he chuckled, eyes twinkling. “i do have a knack for looking for treasures. maybe i should join your crew — think you could handle the competition?”

“only if you promise not to steal my spotlight,” you bantered back, imagining him in a tricorn hat and boots.

Jungoo leaned closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “i promise to keep the spotlight firmly on you. though, i might steal a dance from the captain.”

the playful exchange left you smiling, and you found yourself enjoying his company more than expected.

“i have to admit, i’ve been a fan of your work for a while,” he confessed, suddenly trying to sound nonchalant. “your performances are always captivating.”

surprised and flattered, you replied, “really? i’ve been following your career too. your fight scenes with sword are legendary.”

but as the director burst into the cafe and barked at everyone, urging them to return to set to start filming, Jungoo offered you a wink. “break a leg, captain. i’ll be here to catch you if you fall.”

with a wave, you returned to your role, feeling a bit more buoyant from the encounter.

JONGUN x black swan!reader

film studio was a maze of sets and props, buzzing with activity. you were navigating the corridors, adjusting to the thick black eye lenses you wore for your role as the black swan in upcoming film. they made everything difficult to see, but the effect was stunning on camera.

as you carefully made your way to the break room, you suddenly collided with someone. the impact, unexpected and strong, caused you to lose your balance and fall.

“whoa!” a deep voice exclaimed. you found yourself looking up at Park Jongun, who was also wearing the same intense black lenses for his role on the neighbor set.

“i’m so sorry!” you said, embarrassed as you tried to regain your footing. Jongun quickly helped you up, grabbing your wrist, pulling. you to his broad chesr, a little harder then he should have. his grip steady. “no, it’s my fault. these lenses make it hard to see anything.”

“tell me about it. i’ve been bumping into everything.” you laughed softly, brushing yourself off. he glanced at your costume, noticing the contrast between your delicate ballerina attire and his all bruised and blooded body makeup. “looks like we’re playing quite opposite roles.” he said, finally losing his grip and letting you go.

“yeah,” you admitted, feeling a bit self-conscious. “i had to lose a lot of weight for this role, so i’m not exactly steady on my feet.”

Jongun offered you a charm smile. “you look incredible, though. very convincing as a ballerina.”

“thanks,” you replied, appreciating his kindness. “i’m guessing you’re the tough guy in your film?”

he nodded, a hint of pride and amusement in his voice. “yeah, shiro oni, always ready for few crazy fights. but i promise i’m not as scary in real life.”

as you continued talking, you found Jongun to be easygoing and surprisingly funny. you shared stories about your roles and the challenges of filming with these horrible jet black lenses.

“next time, we should get a guide dog,” he joked, making you laugh.

“or maybe just a cane,” you suggested, enjoying the lighthearted banter.

eventually, it was time to return to your respective sets. “it was nice bumping into you — literally. let’s try to meet again when we can actually see each other.” Jongun smiled dazzlingly again, gently clasping your wrist, and leaving a light, soft kiss your knuckles.

“deal?” he asked with a charm grin, while you stand there smiling shyly, feeling a newfound connection.

“i’d like that,” you replied, feeling grateful for the unexpected encounter. with a wave, you both headed back to work, the meeting leaving you with a smile and the possibility of a new connection.

GIMYONG x targaryen princess!reader

sun was beginning to set over the bustling film set near the sea, casting a warm glow on the neighboring sets of two popular series. one set belonged to the fantasy series where you played a targaryen princess, and the other to the hit show "lookism," where Gimyong had one of the main roles.

he had often glanced toward your set during breaks, intrigued by the regal world of dragons and thrones. he'd heard about y&u from mutual crew members and quietly admired you from afar.

but today, fate seemed to favor him. a scheduling overlap meant both productions were on a break simultaneously. seizing the opportunity, Gimyong wandered over, pretending to be curious about the elaborate set design.

as you stepped outside, still in your flowing, black gown embroidered with red and gold threads, depicting scales, tails and heads of dragons on the sleeves and collar. you saw Gimyong standing nearby, looking somewhat out of place in his black coat. classic black trousers, white shirt and loafers amidst the medieval backdrop.

“hey, aren't you from "lookism?"” you asked, recognizing him from the posters plastered around the studio. he abruptly pulled his hand away from the blue weird machine that soon will be turned into your dragon with computers cgi effects help. he beamed at you, intensively nodding. he was a bit surprised but pleased you knew of him. “yeah, i'm Gimyong. i've been curious about your set for a while. it's got quite the atmosphere.”

you smiled, appreciating his interest. “it's definitely a different world over here. i'm [y/n], by the way.”

“it's nice to finally meet you,”he said, but paused himself for a moment, glancing back at weird blue platform. he noticed once, that your team usually shoot scenes of flying on dragon's back on this thing. brilliant pick up line immediately was born in his head.

“sooo that’s supposed to be your dragon on screen, right?” he grinned, swinging onto the platform from behind, trying to play it cool, but it came out a little awkward, as you can see he is clearly nervous. you giggled softly, but decided to play along, already understanding what he was leading to.

“yes, his name is Vermithor, really huge dragon.” you elegantly covered your mouth with your hand, trying to hide a shameless smile, at Gimyong’s attempt to flirt.

“you know, im kinda dragon myself, being the son of a golden dragon… so how about safe the dragon and ride-” you couldn't let him finish the sentence, bursting into laughter from his pickup line and such a self-confident face. Gimyong was truly humongous man.

in fact, he was not confused or upset by your laughter, because in the end he amused you. his light laugh joined yours and he was happy that he made you laugh.

“no, but seriously, i’ve heard great things about your performance.”

“thank you! it’s been a dream role for me,” you replied warmly, your genuine smile still playing on your lips. “i’ve seen a few episodes of lookism — i absolutely in love with it! your character is such a gentleman.” you exclaimed admiringly, remembering all the scenes where Gimyong was filming with his 'mother', and how cheerful his character was, representing a wonderful leader.

as you talked, the conversation flowed naturally, and Gimyong felt his initial nervousness fading away. he found himself captivated not just by your talent, but by your genuine enthusiasm and kindness.

“maybe you could give me a tour of your set sometime?” Gimyong suggested, hoping to extend the conversation — and his time with you.

“i’d love that,” you replied, intrigued by the idea. “and maybe i could visit yours. i’ve always been curious about how you bring such a cool fightings to life.”

with a shared promise to explore each other’s worlds, Gimyong returned to his set with a newfound excitement. meeting you had been even better than he imagined, and he couldn't wait when you will visit his set, to show off in front of you with his skills and muscles.

[plutoswritingplanet]

could you do a request of Buggy (opla) falling for Luffy’s older sister? (Adopted or blood relation, doesn’t matter) like he takes her hostage but she doesn’t seem to mind. She know she can escape at any time, but keep annoying buggy to a point where… he doesn’t see her as a hostage anymore, more like treasure? And she starts to maybe feel something for the clown?

You Started It (Buggy The Clown x Reader)

a/n: how did i know the first request will be about the clown lmao. i took some liberties when writing this but i hope you still like it <3

Warnings: Buggy Being Kind Of An Asshole, Captivity, Some Suggestive Themes

Summary: Poking the bear isn't the wisest things you could be doing in your particular situation.

Part 2.

You've memorized every nook and cranny of your shoes. The time you've spent in containment has really opened your eyes, when it comes to how little you actually knew about the clothes you were wearing. For example, your right shoe was slightly bigger, molded by your foot. You must be putting more weight onto your right leg, when standing. The hem of your shorts is made with a very close cross stitch, making them slightly sturdier and thicker. Right where the material folds, just above your knee, you've managed to pick out a small hole, the strings of abused material hung sadly and tickled your skin.

There wasn't really much to do, while being kept in a cage, in the backstage of a circus which belonged to the infamous Buggy the Clown. Well, except studying the stains on your shoes and waiting for the Captain to visit you, which he did quite frequently.

"Entertainment purposes" is the reason he declared, when you've asked him why on earth is he keeping you locked up in a hanging cage. But you weren't so easily fooled. You knew from the start, that the role he has envisioned for you to play, was that of a Hostage and Bait. So, inevitably, when your younger brother and his merry band of misfits come to save you, he'd be able to even out the score. Which was a shitty plan, in your opinion.

They've kicked his ass before, they can do it once again.

So, that's why you're here, feet dangling above the floor, as you hum to yourself. Anything to pass the time. That is, until you hear the door to the backstage open, and a familiar tone of voice calls out.

"Hostage!"

Really, how did he even expect you to stay in the dark about his plan, while calling you like this? The man was clearly insane.

Buggy the Clown stands before you, makeup disheveled as always, with his Captain's hat abandoned in favor of a striped bandana. He's excited, which is evident, by the way he can't seem to stop moving, jumping from one leg to the other, hands fidgeting at his sides.

"How are you feeling, my dear Hostage?" he asks with fake concern, and just as your mouth opens to answer, he interrupts "Ah, never mind that, I don't care."

You don't even try to hide the annoyed expression on your face.

"You can sing" he states matter-of-factly, pointing a finger right at you.

"Barely."

"Can you dance though?"

"Barely as well."

He hums in thought, pacing the floor in front of your cage. Finally, he stops, looking at you with his head tilted to the side. His eyes rake over your body, and it brings a sudden wave of discomfort to your bones.

"You'll be performing in our next act."

Again, his tone leaves no space for an argument. Still, you were never an agreeable person, smiles were more of your brother's thing. So, you straighten out as much as the cage allows you and cross your arms in front of your chest.

"Do whatever you like, my brother will get me out of here before you can say Welcome to my big show".

"Welcome to my big show" he says immediately, then, raises his finger, as if he's waiting for the entire crew of Strawhats to fall from the sky.

They don't, obviously, and he gives you a pointed look, to which you respond with a roll of your eyes.

"Besides" he turns around and opens one of the chests laid out on the table "Aren't you a bit old to dote on your younger brother so much?"

The question genuinely offends you, and as he pulls out another bandana, this one red, covered entirely with big white polka dots, your eyes glimmer with venom.

"Aren't you a bit old to play dress up?"

He turns in a blink of an eye, and with terror mixed with disgust you watch his hands detach from his body, slamming into the cage. The force of impact sends it flying right into the nearby wall, the back of your head smacks against the metal bars. The swinging of the cage coupled with the stars erupting before your eyelids from the impact make you feel dizzy.

Then, Buggy takes a step towards the cage, connecting his hands with the rest of his body, and your prison stops swinging in an instant.

"I should kill you for that" he says lowly, his blue eyes bearing into your face.

"You started it" you choke out an accusation, trying very hard not to vomit.

He stays completely quiet, just watching you for a long while, his hands slowly loose tension. Then, as if his rage has entirely dissolved, he smiles, teeth completely exposed, as his cheeks crease. God, you'd do such a better job at his make-up, given the chance.

"You're funny, Hostage" he shakes his head, and suddenly, for some unknown reason, it downs upon you, just how close to you, he's standing.

"Sing for me some more" he says.

And then, his hands push back with sufficient force to send your cage flying again. You groan at the movement, another wave of nausea almost making you loose your breakfast. When you finally have the perfect, biting comeback, he's already gone, the door slamming after him. You're alone again.

A sigh escapes your lips, as you press your forehead to the cold metal of the cage. You've already memorized all the details of your own clothes, and the room was too dark to see anything more. So, you start observing the cage. The way the light shifts up and down on the bars, the way the brown paint seems to peel away under your thighs. Then, you look up, towards the place where all the bars have been stuck together.

And then your eyebrows furrow. Because just above the ceiling of the cage, you can see something poking out. Something roughly the size of a fist and colored a pale, fleshy color. You raise yourself slightly in your seat, to get a better look, and immediately regret doing so.

It's an ear. His ear. Detached and placed right on top of the cage. That's how he knows about your singing, the bastard.

An idea brews in your brain, mischief spilling out of your growing smirk. You pull yourself up, until you can reach the top of the cage. Your arm is just slender enough to slip past the bars, and your fingers brush against the cold flesh of the ear. Before Buggy, wherever he is, can react, you snatch the ear from the top of the cage, keeping a tight grip, as it starts to jump in your hand.

Then, you take a deep breath, place the ear close to your lips… And give the most blood-curling, shrill scream you could muster.

Immediately, you hear a string of curses coming your way, and a second later Buggy bursts into the room, a murderous expression on his face. You open your hand, and the ear nearly bursts out of your fingers, flying back to it's owner like some sort of deformed beetle. The sight, for some reason, is so incredibly funny, you can't help but choke out a little giggle. Which soon becomes a quite big giggle, which in turn morphs into a full blown laughter.

You can't see the Captain through the tears of laughter forming in your eyes, so when he knocks on the metal bars of your cage, you nearly choke from surprise. He's looking at you strangely. Not quite as angry as before, but there is something else lurking behind his eyes. As if he's enveloped deeply in his thoughts, but at the same time completely present and focused on you. Your laughter dies down in an instantly, and you reach up to wipe your tears, clearing your throat awkwardly.

"I've captured myself a comedian, huh?" the man leans closer to the bars of the cage, placing his forehead against them and looking at you from below "You trying to take my place as the funniest person in the circus? Hm, Hostage?"

You risk a smirk, leaning down towards him. He watches your movements with a curious expression, eyes darting all over your face.

"Yeah" you whisper "So, you better watch your back."

At that, he smiles one of his brilliantly wide smiles. This one however, seems the most honest out of every one you've seen up to this point. You try not to linger too much at the way his eyes seem to shine in the dimly lit room. Or how the stubble on his face makes his features sharper. Or even on the way his arms flex as he leans against the cage. And definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, you're not focusing on the fact, that he's standing nestled right between your dangling legs.

So, before your brain conjures up any unwanted ideas, you clear your throat again and straighten up. Buggy notices the shift in your posture, but doesn't move, instead it seems as if a lightbulb has literally appeared beside his head. Desperate to change the subject, which hasn't been even brought up yet, you wave your hand in the general direction of his ear.

"Your ability is pretty useful" you try to sound as neutral, as humanly possible.

"Oh?" he tilts his head back and gives you a suspicious look.

"Yeah, that eavesdropping thing was really cool… And slightly disgusting" your nose scrunches "But mostly cool."

He hums low in his throat, his hands slowly letting go of your cage. Still, he remains standing between your legs, your knee brushing against his prominent hip bones.

"Are there" you swallow "Any limits to this ability?"

Now, his eyebrows jump straight under his bandana, and you definitely do not like the slow smirk filling his features.

"I mean, like, can you detach your nose? Or um… I don't know, your fingernails?"

Finally he steps back, stretching his arms to the side, as if he's giving you a show, and in a way, he does. There are muscles, hidden under those circus clothes. His exposed forearms are nicely shaped, with thick veins running the length of them. You really don't mean to ogle the man, but fuck, he is handsome. In an "insane-sadistic-clown-who-is-also-a-pirate-for-some-reason" way.

"I can detach every single part of my body with no effort" he says, his smile growing.

Before you could really think about your actions, your gaze falls downward, right to his belt keeping his trousers up. Mortified, that your brain would even go there, you tear your eyes up, and with a horrified expression, look upon a face full of excitement.

Then, Buggy raises his hands to his heart, feigning a scandalized expression, which would've been funny, if you weren't currently blushing in the lovely shade of a ripe beetroot.

"I'm sorry… that's not… I didn't" your words come out a jumbled mess, and Buggy wheezes out a laugh.

"Oh would you look at that" he puts his hands behind his back, as he slowly starts to stalk towards your confinement "You know, with how sheltered your little brother is, I didn't expect you to be such a dirty pervert."

You choke on air, arms flailing inside the cage, as you genuinely are at a loss for words, You can feel your face grow impossibly hot, the heat spreading all the way to the tops of your ears. The Clown still advances, until his face is pushed right between the bars of the cage, a smile on his lips and a glint in his eye. You don't know what to do with yourself, as the man continues to laugh at your outrage.

Finally, his right hand flies from behind his back and stops right above his head. Then, as if making a show specially for you out of his unusual abilities, he lets his pointer finger remove itself from the hand. Involuntarily, you make a face, and try to push yourself as far into the cage, as humanly possible. Which, given the size of your prison, does practically nothing. The finger aims straight at your nose and presses it with slightly more force, than a friendly "boop" would.

"You started it" he throws your own words back at you, and watches your dumbfounded expression with a smile and a giggle.

Finally, he steps back, all his body parts in place, and you can breathe again at last. Then, with a flourish, he bows down before the cage, before giving you a slightly unbalanced twirl. At that, you can't help but smile, almost fondly. He's not so bad, when he isn't actively trying to murder you and your friends.

"Anyways, get ready, your grand performance is in a week" he concludes, and you sigh deeply.

So he hasn't let this one go.

No matter. A week from now, you'll be out of this place. The thought fills you with joy, and strangely, with some sort of melancholy, which you have to jot down as nausea, just to protect your own mental health.

"Hostage" the man says, as a goodbye, bowing once again, this time with fewer theatrics, and begins to walk back towards the door. "Captain" you respond in kind, inclining your head slightly.

He stops in his tracks, back turned to you, before slowly, twisting his body, to look you in the face. He wants to say something, his mouth opens and closes, and anticipation floods your stomach. But then, his lips pull back into one more smile, more reserved, more private. Now, in this rare moment of tranquility, he looks truly handsome, and your heart jumps to your throat at the realization. He gives you one last look, shakes his head at the floor, and exits with a soft click of the door.

You're, once again, left alone with your mismatched shoes and the hole in your shorts. This time, however, your head is filled with tender thoughts, one that could keep you company, until another visit befalls you.

[timewillpasssoon]

HELLO!!! Maybe in the second part there's some drama 🫣 Maybe a dating scandal with another person and Joost is heartbroken but Y/n is like No, I only like Joost!! And Y/n reaches out to him first and apologizes for all the drama and he asks her to come to one of his concerts??

LET ME THINK...

pairing . Joost Klein x fem-celeb! reader

content . fluff, reader is an actress, you are addressed as 'reader', reader is the same age as joost, fake social media screenshots,

summary . you announce that you are a huge fan of Joost Klein in an interview... and he sees it! He just so happens to be a huge fan as well.

word count . 1,9k words, 10,8k characters, 3 screenshots

author's note . guys i did it, i wrote part two. there will be a part 3 (maybe a part 4!!). the part 3 will include the dating drama...!!! ALSO ME AND KÄÄRIJÄ HAVE THE SAME BIRTHDAY, LETSGO

You honestly couldn't believe it. That your celebrity crush just said you were cute. That he's too shy to talk to you??? You found this out when you were in a Café.

Finn decided to take you out to a nice, but little Café. A nice outing with his “older sister”, he said.

You and Finn were chatting about recent drama you both recalled when your famous friend, Ella Purnell, suddenly FaceTimed you. As you answered, she said her quick hello and mentioned something about Joost responding to your interview. However, her words were muffled by background noise, and you only caught Joost's name. "What are you talking about?" you asked, a sense of panic rising within you, hoping it might just be a prank call.

Meanwhile Ella, between her hair and makeup session with her crew, urged you to check Twitter. "He responded to you... you'll be pretty happy to hear what he said," she exclaimed. With a mixture of dread and curiosity, you glanced at Finn before hurriedly opening Twitter to investigate. As you navigated to the trending section, your heart sank as you read the top headline: "JOOST REPLIED."

“Ah, shit.” Finn checks Twitter as well. His jaw slightly drops, probably an inch down. “He saw it?” Ella hums at Finn's question, “He probably saw the interview right as it dropped.” Finn nodded.

You freeze as you click on the button, two tweets on your screening both saying that Joost Klein responded to Reader Lastname. You clicked on the clip attached to one of the tweets. It was Joost in his iconic blue spiked-shouldered suit. Appie and Stunje are barely on screen.

The video starts on by Joost speaking, "well, I am honestly very flattered that someone beautiful as her would be interested in me."

He continues, "When I saw the interview, I froze! She is one of my favorite actresses. Reader is amazing at her job!" The interviewer chuckled, "Oh! Well maybe you should message her!"

"No, no! I am too embarrassed to make the first move...

“But she is very pretty.”

You were in a state of frenzy, alternating between giggling uncontrollably and wiping your sweat that was on your forehead. You were also kicking Finn's legs in excitement. "Will you stop doing that?" Finn chuckled, clearly amused by your reaction. The video repeated, indicating that you watched the whole clip.

Both Ella and Finn witnessed your surprised expression. “Amazing, right? That means you have a chance!” Ella shouted, trying to make herself more audible over the commotion behind her. “I think I'm going to faint.”

Finn placed his hand on his own forehead, looking at the video one more time. Never before had you felt so embarrassed and dizzy in your life. “You should text him.” Finn smiles at his friend, placing his phone down on the table, lifting his fork. “You know what,”

You take a moment to think about it. Maybe you should make the first move. Well, you kind of had to, since Joost quote-ly wasn't.

“Alright, I'll text him-!” Ella and Finn cheered you on, “Atta girl!”

As you reached for your phone to check your contacts, a sudden realization washed over you.

"I don't have his number," you muttered, a sense of disappointment creeping in. Finn and Ella, who had been cheering you on moments before slowly, gradually fell silent. "Well, shit," Ella exclaimed, her tone reflecting a mix of frustration and disappointment.

She glanced away from her camera phone, redirecting her gaze to the mirror in front of her.

“You can't DM him on Instagram, he doesn't have them on.” You don't question how she knows that. Okay, maybe she might have tried to message him about you when the interview first dropped, but she couldn't.

“How am I going to contact him?” Finn raises his cup of coffee to his lips, “We have connections…?” Finn suggested a solution but you weren't listening because he explained it too fast, or maybe because it wasn't that good… Ella sighs fidgeting with her baby hairs, “We should ask around. To see if anyone is close to him.” Ella's suggestion was the best one out of the two.

She picked up her phone, you can hear Ella start typing, in search of finding friends that know friends that know friends that know Joost.

Finn unlocking his phone on his way to mass message all his contacts.

…

How long has it been?

It felt like an eternity, but in reality, only about twenty minutes had passed. All you wanted to do is talk to (maybe) your future boyfriend.

You got a message back from someone in your contacts.

The three of you have tons of connections that you just asked around if anyone had his number, and after what seems to feel like hours...

YOU GOT IT!

You got Joost Klein's number from mutual friends. Your old co-star is friends with a Greece singer who is also friends with this Finnish rapper named Käärijä.

And Käärijä is really close with Joost...!!!

You got Joost's number from Käärijä, “What should I say?” You asked Ella and Finn. Your palms were very sweaty, emphasis on very.

“A simple hi would be good.” Ella said smiling, you couldn't tell if she was making fun of you or not. “What if he finds it weird that I got his number through his friend?”

“How else would you get it? He's ‘too shy’ to make a move. You had to get it somehow.”

Finn finished taking the last sip of his coffee before saying that. He lifted his eyebrows indicating that you should agree with him. “You know he's right. His friend probably already told him that you have his number. What if he's waiting for you?” Ella teasing you to hit the send button of your text.

...

And she was right. Joost was pacing around his room as he got the news from Käärijä. That the most beautiful woman, Joost's words, is going to text him any minute now. “I don't think I'm ready.” He admitted aloud, the weight of anticipation and nerves settling heavily on his shoulders.

Joost has loved your movies and shows since your career started. You were a great actress and had an even greater personality from what he has seen online.

Also, when you revealed that you knew some Dutch in an interview… he loved you even more. “What!? Why… Do you not like her?”

Joost sighs and backtracks, “I do! I'm just nervous. How would I reply to her message?” Käärijä lets out an airy laugh. “I'm not sure… But you'll figure it out!!”

He was no help, thought Joost. He sighed when he heard Käärijä's advice. The two of you were a nervous wreck.

Käärijä spoke again after hearing Joost's depressed sigh, "I'll help you think of a response when she does text you."

“What if I mess this chance up with her?”

/

"What if he thinks I’m weird?"

The air was filled with worry. “I don’t know…” Finn rolled his eyes, telling you that if you don’t bag him now, someone else will.

You knew he was right, so you swallowed all your embarrassment.

“Maybe a simple explanation?” You ask your two friends before sending your text. “Yeah, whatever, just send it!” Ella couldn't wait anymore, rushing you to send the message already.

“Alright, alright!”

You typed out your message: “hey joost, it's reader! I got your number from a friend of yours. wanted to say hey and if you're down to talk ^^”

“Is that good? Oh god, maybe I should just say ‘hey’.” Ella rolls her eyes, slightly annoyed from your overthinking, “It's great. Don't overthink it,” Ella chuckles at a thought that popped in her head, “He's already getting you stressed out and you guys aren't even together yet.” Yet. That word made your stomach twist into several knots. You and Joost haven't had a proper conversation yet.

There were a lot of “yet”s in your thoughts. Finn snapped you out of them, saying, “Listen even if you mess this up, there are other fish in the sea, right? You don't even know him that well enough to be stressing this much.”

Was that advice the best? It was decent but he was also somewhat right!

“What great advice, Finn, be my therapist!” Ella makes a mockery at him just for a good laugh. She was successful on making you laugh quietly while staring at the now empty plate in front of you.

“Whatever, I'm always right.” Finn scoffs, tilting his head to the side. “If you don't want to text him you don't have to.” You look directly into his eyes, you weren't quite sure what to say. “Yeah but…

“I want to.”

You straighten your posture and click the send button. Your three letter message is sent within five seconds of you pressing the send button. “Did she actually do it!?”

Ella asks Finn, nodding yet she couldn't see, “Holy shit, she did it!” Finn cheered quietly for you. “You did it, Reader!” Ella claps her hands together, bringing her tied hands in front of where her heart would be.

“I feel better.” Ella smiles at your comment, “I'm glad you took the first step. I have to get going now! But text me when he responds! Cheers!” Ella quickly ends the call after you and Finn say your goodbye to her.

You smile at Finn, the knots in your stomach going away. “Want me to take a photo of you?” Finn asked as he unlocked his phone to go to the camera app. He swooped some of his hair, that was once in front of his forehead, behind his ears.

“Duh!" When he finished taking a photo of you in the green Café, you snapped a picture of him as well.

It was later in the day, around six pm from where you were currently located at, the nice cool air breezing through you and Finn. When you first sent your text to Joost, it was around ten am, making it seven pm in the Netherlands. It took him around ten minutes to respond to your first text. It was him reassuring you that he was down to chat.

The conversation lasted for a couple of hours, getting to know each other well enough within the four hours he had. The talk ended due to Joost having to go to bed, him being nine hours ahead of you was sure frustrating, you wanted to talk for a few more minutes but respected his goodbye. The rest of the day was traveling around with Finn.

You were in Finn's car, in a random semi-empty parking lot. A little takeout box on your lap. You were staring at the sky, having thoughts, little ones that weren't going to stick for a while.

Finn placed down his tiny bow on his lap as well. "What are you think about?" He snapped you out of your thoughts. "I think you know who I'm thinking about..." He smiled at you, nodding his head slowly as he looked away. "Should've known."

Finn sighed, "Just spit it out already!" He could tell something was bothering you, something that may involve a certain Dutch man. You shake your head. "It's nothing bad." You take a moment to yourself. "Just feel nervous."

You shifted in your seat, facing Finn that was in the driver's seat. "He's really nice, sweet, and just overall understanding! I know we only talked for, what- four hours? But he's pretty decent from what I had."

Finn looked away, knowing you were right. "I like him more than the others." Finn smirked at you, with cheekiness, "I did some research."

You sigh, you slightly open your mouth, the tip of your tongue touching your inner cheek. "Of course you did!"

taglist . . . @poppymelonz @grassclippers @catch1ngmoths @beansnsoup @f4n3tt3 @smiley-roos @welcometowonkas @hatsunimikuuu @haela-ttt @iamirish @berryxblue @ki-wiix @hsthbs @ihrtmusicsblog @arisja3701 @morrrospotted @casuallyeating @evonevenik @hiraethberry @yaxily45 @katlolsblog @1lovef1sblog @hockeybae @arysbruv @bl0om-star @bineeeee @gigilovescatsx @non-lo-so0 @lovely-nightstars @frikandllbroodje @lovingyeet @frenchgirlsblog

white means i can't tag.

[starset21]

Part 1: Motorsport Unity Day

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

Summery: Max Verstappen, a dominant F1 champion with a reputation for intensity and precision, is partnered with you, a passionate, proud NASCAR champion who’s made history behind the wheel of car #33. When a Red Bull cross-promotional event brings their worlds colliding—literally—the clash of egos becomes impossible to ignore.

Standard disclaimer: I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may found is on tumblr or A03 under the same name. This is all fake. It does not reflect real people, real events or their actual actions or relationships. May contain google translated languages.

A/N: This will be a multi-part series

The airstrip buzzed with cameras, crew members, and the unmistakable hum of too many egos in one place.

A PR stunt—that’s what it was. They dressed it up as “Motorsport Unity Day”, but really, it was just a circus of fast cars, faster mouths, and more testosterone than a pre-race driver’s meeting. You adjusted the sleeves on your fire suit, Red Bull’s logo stitched alongside your usual Team Penske insignia. You were used to attention. NASCAR champion at the age of 22, now at 27 your number—33—had become iconic. 

But this? This felt like bait.

Off to your right, rally cars sat squat and aggressive under the harsh sun. Down the row, MotoGP bikes leaned on kickstands like coiled animals. The center of it all was the custom drag strip Red Bull had laid out on the old airstrip, freshly paved and lined with towering banners. Loud, bold, over-the-top—exactly their style.

You were halfway through adjusting your gloves when the murmurs started.

Max Verstappen had arrived.

You didn’t have to look to know. His presence spread like gasoline fumes—unmistakable and vaguely irritating. You looked anyway.

He strolled in like he owned the place, Red Bull-branded suit unzipped halfway, fireproof undershirt clinging to him like it had been tailored by someone with an ego as large as his own. The smirk on his face said it all: he was here for the headlines, not the handshake.

“Figures,” you muttered.

Your crew chief caught your eye. “Play nice.”

“I’m always nice.”

Max’s gaze skimmed across the paddock, past the rally drivers, past the MotoGP star giving a quick interview. Then it landed on you—hard and unblinking. The corner of his mouth twitched.

“Ah,” he said, approaching with that measured, practiced swagger. “The NASCAR star. Number thirty-three.” He let the number hang for a second. Then: “I always liked that one. Doubled up, neat, symmetrical. Shame it doesn’t seem to help with turning right.”

You blinked, once, slow. 

“Well, I figured I’d leave all the overcomplicated geometry to you F1 types. I prefer racing over calculus.”

His smile twitched wider, like he was enjoying this. Too much.

“And yet here you are—drag strip, shared sponsor, shared team. Guess we’ve got something in common after all.” He paused. “Besides winning, I mean.”

You stepped forward, just enough to close the space between you—not touching, but close enough to let him know you weren’t backing down.

“You want to talk about wins, Verstappen?” you said, voice low, steady. “Come find me on a track where you can’t DRS your way out of a dogfight.”

Max’s eyes flickered—just briefly—to the Red Bull logo stitched next to Penske on your chest. His expression turned thoughtful for half a second. Then, that same smirk returned.

Then, that same smirk returned—weaponized now, sharpened by something behind his eyes.

“I’m not picky,” Max said, voice lazy but pointed. “Tarmac, gravel, oval, street. Doesn’t matter. I adapt. That’s why I win.”

You tilted your head, just a fraction. “Right. Adaptability. Is that what you call it when you blame the tire strategy every time someone breathes down your neck?”

That earned a flicker. Not much. But you saw it.

A crew member coughed awkwardly nearby. Someone snapped a photo. You could feel the moment calcifying, turning into content—fodder for socials, headlines, maybe even a Netflix cutaway if someone was feeling dramatic enough. This wasn’t just posturing. This was theater.

Max glanced around, then gestured toward the starting line. “Enough talk. Let’s show them how it’s done.”

You followed him through the maze of cables and cameras toward the drag strip, the roar of engines growing louder as crews prepped the machines. The tension in the air was thick—half anticipation, half unspoken challenge.

Your crew chief pulled you aside. “Remember, this isn’t a race. It’s a show run. Start together, full throttle, straight line. The shot’s what matters, not the time.”

You nodded, though the adrenaline was already spiking in your veins. No room for error. No excuses.

Max was already slipping into his car—a sleek, almost fragile-looking F1 beast that seemed to hum with restrained fury. You climbed into the cockpit of your stock car, the familiar weight of the steering wheel and pedals grounding you.

The cameras circled, the director calling for final checks. You could hear the muffled countdown over the comms. The world shrank down to the strip ahead—a flat, unyielding ribbon of blacktop shining in the sun.

“Three… two… one… GO!”

Both engines roared to life, tires gripping hard, the air filled with exhaust and burning rubber. You and Max launched simultaneously, power and precision meeting in a blur of speed.

The strip stretched out beneath you like an endless challenge. No turns. No tricks. Just raw velocity—and pride.

The world blurred into streaks of color, the roar of engines pounding in your ears like a drum solo gone mad. The stock car’s weight pressed down through the suspension, muscles and metal working in perfect harmony. You fought the instinct to glance over—Max’s F1 machine was a rocket on rails, its high-revving engine screaming with a sound so alien to your NASCAR-hardened senses it felt like a different language.

But you didn’t look. Not yet.

The drag strip was deceptively simple, but it demanded everything. One slip, one hesitation, and the whole run was toast. The air thickened with heat and speed; the finish line blurred closer, a promise and a threat. Your hand tightened on the wheel. This wasn’t just about a PR stunt or a viral clip. This was pride—the kind you could taste in your throat, bitter and fierce. As the line flew beneath you, the F1 car pulled just slightly ahead—its aerodynamic edge clear, the precision of its design screaming at every inch. Still, you kept your foot down, knowing full well that raw power was your weapon here, the kind that didn’t care about finesse but about pure, brutal thrust.

The engines began to fade as you crossed the line, the cameras exploding with clicks and shouts. Your chest rose and fell, sweat mixing with the heat under your helmet. The airstrip buzzed louder than before, the moment captured but far from over. Behind the scenes, your crew chief’s voice came clear through the comms: “Good run. Looks like they got the shot.” 

You peeled off the strip, heart hammering as the crowd’s murmurs swelled around you. Climbing out of the car, you quickly removed your helmet, letting the breeze cool your face. Max’s car was already gliding to a stop beside yours. He climbed out, helmet coming off to reveal that same cocky grin. But this time, there was something different — a glint of respect, or maybe just an acknowledgment that you weren’t a joke to be dismissed.

“Not bad for a brute,” he said, voice low but carrying that trademark edge. “Almost made me sweat.”

You locked eyes with him, letting the weight of the moment settle between you. No need for words—this was the quiet truce forged in speed and steel. The crowd’s noise faded into the background, replaced by the steady pounding of your own pulse.

You smirked, already peeling the gloves from your fingers. “You ever want a real challenge, take a stock car for a spin. See if you can handle something that doesn’t stick to the ground like it’s magnetized.”

Max huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair. “Tempting,” he said. “Could be fun… or deeply humbling. I’ll think about it.”

He held your gaze a second longer, grin crooked but no longer mocking. Just something close to… intrigued.

You crossed your arms loosely. “So what now? We shake hands and smile for the PR cameras?”

Max’s eyes flicked toward the crowd, then back to you. “We could. But I was thinking something less… staged.”

“Oh?” you raised a brow. “Like what?”

He took a small step closer, the space between you narrowing just enough to feel intentional. “I don’t know. Maybe a quiet lap around the paddock. Just you, me, and no cameras. 

You tilted your head, lips quirking. “A lap around the paddock? That your idea of foreplay?”

Max’s grin sharpened, but his eyes stayed steady on yours. “Depends. You planning to make me work for it?”

You huffed a soft laugh and shook your head. “Come on, Verstappen. Let’s walk before you try to impress me behind the wheel.”

He fell into step beside you, hands in the pockets of his suit as you both moved away from the crowd, away from the cameras and the constant hum of engine noise and forced smiles. The sun was starting to dip, casting long shadows across the tarmac and turning everything gold at the edges.

For a moment, it was just the sound of your boots on pavement and the quiet rhythm of two drivers who lived most of their lives in motion.

“So,” Max said eventually, glancing sideways at you. “You always this mouthy, or do I just bring it out of you?”

You smirked. “Depends. You always this smug, or is that a Red Bull requirement?”

He chuckled, genuinely this time. “Touché.”

You strolled past stacks of tires, past rally cars stripped down for show, and a pit crew packing up their gear. The air smelled like burnt rubber and brake dust—familiar, grounding. Somehow, it felt easier to talk now.

“I watched your run at Martinsville,” Max said after a beat. “The last-lap move.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t know you followed NASCAR.”

“I follow good racing,” he said simply.

A pause.

“…You were relentless.”

That stopped you—just half a step. Then you kept walking. “That’s the job.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I get that.”

Another quiet moment passed, and then your shoulder brushed his—just lightly, maybe by accident, maybe not.

You glanced up at him. “So, Verstappen… you always walk PR laps with rivals?”

He smiled. “Only the interesting ones.”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips curved anyway. “You really know how to flirt like it’s a sport.”

“It is,” he said. “You just haven’t seen me in qualifying yet.”

You laughed, surprising even yourself with how easy it came. Max looked almost smug with the sound, like he’d earned something.

As you reached the edge of the lot, the quiet between you settled into something that felt… unfinished. Like the story wasn’t over yet. You both stopped, standing near a stack of crates and a faded Red Bull banner flapping lazily in the breeze.

Max pulled his phone from his pocket, unlocked it, then held it out. “In case I decide to take that stock car for a spin.”

You eyed the screen, then took it without hesitation, entering your number. “In case I decide to let you.”

You handed it back, your fingers brushing his. Brief. Intentional.

“Thanks,” he said, tucking the phone away.

You offered him a final smirk. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Max grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Then he turned and walked off toward the rest of the pit lane, still that same casual strut—but now, somehow, it felt like he was leaving room behind him.

You exhaled slowly, then turned back toward your car, the crew already packing up. Your chief gave you a look—half amusement, half suspicion—but didn’t say a word. Good. You weren’t in the mood to explain whatever the hell that just was.

Not yet.

[aesthetic-bbyg]

SPECIAL PERSON ~ SANJI

LA!Sanji x fem!reader

IN WHICH you visit your husband with your new crew, but they don’t know that.

Nattie speaks: down bad for Sanji like JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE I WOULD TREAT YOU SO RIGHT😭

“WELL DONT YOU LOOK NICE.” NAMI commented, staring at your figure as you put on a cute set of earrings. The Merry was docked at the harbor of the famous restaurant, the rest of the crew slipping into new clothes for the fancy place. They were led there after Luffy’s nose directed them towards the smell of food, but they had no clue that you were the one who’s subtly guided them there. Even through the thick fog you always managed to sail back into the restaurants dock.

“We’re eating at the Baratie, it’s a nice restaurant, I can look nice if I want to.” You shrugged, looking at yourself in the small mirror. Nami chuckled, walking out the room and leaving you to reach for the wedding band you always kept in a safe box. You were giddy, feeling a set of butterflies flutter in your stomach at the thought of seeing him for the first time in a long time. The dress that Nami had commented on was one he had gifted you. And so were the earrings. And so was the ring.

“You ready?” Usopp peaked his head in, expression contorting at the sight of you. “Dang, you look…really good.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, walking out and smiling at his flushed face. You got that same reaction from the other two members, commenting on the way you seemed to dress up a little more then usual. “It’s just a dress.” You rolled your eyes with a huff as the crew made their way to the entrance.

Entering the restaurant you were met with familiarity of the bustling people and the loud jazz music that echoed through the place. The older fish man who always hosted stood politely behind his podium. “Welcome to Baratie, how can I help you?”

Before you could speak up, your energetic Captain took the first step. “Hi! Where do we eat?”

“Do you have a reservation, sir?”

“Do we need one?”

“We’re very full today, I could put on the waiting list.” He glanced down at the clipboard under him, looking back up with a fake smile. “It’s three weeks out.”

You reached into the small purse, attempting to speak up again, this time Usopp took the stand. “Maybe you want to check your book again.” He said pridefully, “You wouldn’t want to turn away the future King of the Pirates, now, would you?”

You mentally groaned, wincing a bit as the fishman gave him a strained look, attempting to keep a calm attitude. You learned that the number one rule with staff was to serve with a smile and a good attitude, no matter what. “And who is that, sir?”

“Monkey D. Luffy,” Usopp stated like it obvious, “Perhaps you’ve heard of him?” Luffy nodded enthusiastically, making three behind them wince.

The host let out a sigh, adjusting his suit with a annoyed expression. “Well, in that case, we’ll find a table—“

Luffy let out a shout, flailing his arms with enthusiasm, “Yeah! I knew it!” He already begun his journey down the stairs with Usopp, not catching the fish mans next words.

“In three weeks.”

Nami exhaled loudly, reaching for the pouch attached to her belt. You caught her hand, giving her a shake of your head as you finally walked up to the man with a pearly smile. “Nice to see again.” You slid the golden card in his direction, “And apologies for my crew, they’re..idiots.”

He scanned over the card, expression changing as he gave you a genuine grin back, stepping out from his podium. “Ah, welcome back, Mrs.” He took a few menus into his hand, offering back the card as you smirked proudly. “Right this way.”

You followed after him, looking back at Nami’s confused expression. She walked close to you, whispering into your ear, “What was that?”

“A lady never reveals her secrets.” You winked, walking with the crew to a booth, empty but already set up with neatly folded napkins and warm plates. It was a struggle with Zoro and his swords, but he managed, you sat on the edge, crossing your legs and taking the menu’s the host offered.

“Your waiter will be with you shortly.”

You brushed away the hair off your face, taking the menu into your hands and skimming through it, despite having it burn into your memory. You tended to order to the same, maybe switching it up with the desserts. The excited boys buzzed beside you, loudly talking about the food and the fancy-ness of the place.

As time ticked by, your heeled foot began to tap against the floor under you. You weren’t sure why you were nervous, it could be a million different reasons, but the need to see him again was probably the head of it all. You were snapped out your trance when a loud argument began to brew just behind you, two pirates going at each other’s throats over a table. You watched in amusement, recognizing one of them since he often came to establishment, always fighting with the staff and people over the seat closest to the kitchen.

Out came a blonde waiter, dressed nicely in a suit and a charming smile. With a basket of bread in his hand he attempted to break up the fight, using the usual kind and positive attitude the all staff had to use first. But after one drew a gun, the waiters long legs went to use as he beat each of them down, not ever lifting a finger.

“Good fighter.” Luffy commented, his body nearly on your lap as he curiously peaked his head out to watch the scene unfold.

He flicked his hair way, grabbing the warm basket of bread once more and shoving his free hand into his pocket. “No cause for alarm, folks, please enjoy your meals.” He then approached the table, you hid your face in the menu, holding back a large smile. “Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than then ambience is the food.” You snorted quietly, covering your mouth. “My name is Sanji, what can I get for you.”

“One of everything, please.” Luffy said through a mouthful of bread, Sanji’s eyes looking towards the happy boy. Noticing the you on the edge but not seeing your face.

“Any drinks?” He questioned with fake interest, you knew serving was one of his least favorite duties, besides being the chore boy. “One of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?”

“Giving us the hard sell, huh?” Nami commented under her breath.

Zoro cleared his throat, “Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?”

“Two beers, I usually have three, but —“

“And a milk!”

“Water.”

Sanji nodded, glancing over at the one girl who hadn’t said a word, head still hidden behind the menu. “And for you, Miss?” You revealed your face, Sanji’s features lit up at the sight of you, a smirk painting itself on his features. “Or shall I say, Mrs, the usual?”

You nodded, “You know me so well.”

“How could I not, a lady like you always deserved the best of our wine.” He reached down for your left hand, planting a kiss on your knuckles. Fingers gently brushing over the diamond on your ring, he smirked again looking at you admiringly. “I’ve missed you.”

The group watched in utter confusion, looking at the interaction between the two before you turned around. A tint of blush had covered your cheeks, a bashful smile lighting up features. “Excuse me, I’ll be back.” You stood from the booth, leaving the crew to look amongst eachother.

All eyes eventually rested on Nami, “What?”

“You two are like, girl friends, do you know what that was about?” Usopp asked with a raised brow as the orange-haired girl scoffed.

“No, she didn’t tell me anything.”

You walked with Sanji to a more secluded area in the back parts of the restaurant, heels repetitively clicking against the floor for his steps were quick. There you finally let out a high pitched squeal, wrapping your arms around him with a suffocating grip. Your hand ran through his hair like they always did, he chuckled softly, hands resting on your lower back. When you pulled away he immediately met your lips, a hungry and desperate kiss ensuing for a few minutes.

“It’s been to long, my love.” He whispered against your lips, the grip on your waist tightening. “Who are those people you were with?”

“My crew!” You smiled proudly, “I lead them directly to you, be thankful.”

“I can show you one or two ways that I’m thankful to have you here.” He growled against your skin as he began to pepper kisses along neck.

You giggled, lightly pushing his chest. “Maybe later, when dessert comes around.” You smirked, “For now, I actually am hungry.”

Sanji’s sighed, “I’ll make you the best meal, love.” He took a moment to just stare at you, burn all your features into his brain. “It’s so good to have you here, I swear, the old man has been a complete arse lately.”

“He kicked you off the line?” You asked with a raised brow, “Cause I know you well enough to know that you’d never willingly work as a waiter.”

He rolled his eyes, pecking your lips before hesitantly pulling away. “And he’d also kill me if I slacked off for even a second. I’ll put in your orders and we’ll meet after, okay?”

You nodded, leaning up to peck his lips. “Okay.” You headed in the opposite direction, back to the dining area and he walked to the kitchen. You wiped the messed up gloss on your lips, smoothing out any wrinkles that may have indented your dress. By the time you reached the booth once more, the conversation the crew had with each other just paused. You looked up and we’re met with stares all holding the same questions. You chuckled softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “The waiter is my husband.”

Everyone, minus Zoro, gasped, mouths opened agape with wide eyes. It was comical, and it made you laugh at the way each person held a shocked look. “You’re married!” Usopp asked a little too loud, earning a few looks.

“To the waiter?” Nami scoffed, a smile forming on her lips. “Is that why you got all dressed up, you sneaky liar!”

“Technically I wasn’t lying.” You threw you’re hand up in defense, “This is a nice restaurant.”

“But you only wanted to look nice for your husband.” Nami shot back, making you blush and hide your face.

“Maybe if you noticed the fact that she’s had a wedding ring on her finger for more then half the time we’ve been with her, this wouldn’t be a surprise.” Zoro muttered out, arms crossed as he shot a look at the crew around him.

“Congratulations!” Luffy smiled, taking a large chunk of bread into his mouth. “It must be so cool to be married.”

“Yeah, yeah, it is.” You replied quietly, unable to resist the big smile on your face.

JUST SOMETHING CUTE ND SIMPLE 4 Y’ALL!! I feel bad for being quiet for the past week and wanted to just post a lil smth I’ve had in my drafts!! I’m honestly a sucker for Sanji being a husband. AND SPEAKING OF! Can someone please, please tell me the name of a fic where reader is at the Baratie and Sanji comes and they like flirt and when the straw hats ask abt it they found out that reader and Sanji are ex-lovers. They divorced but are still in love. PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!!

[bones4thecats]

Hi I see you’re request are open can I ask of transformers animated Optimus x female bot Vaggie reader , she use to be an elite guard but after she spare the life of an decepticon she was punish by her superior (sentinel spark mate) by cutting her optic and taking away her position

TFA! Optimus Prime w/ Vaggie-Bot! S/O

Character: Optimus Prime (Transformers Animated) Requester: 🩰Anon A/N: I'm gonna call you 🩰Anon, unless you're one of my other Anons. Which if you are please tell me and I can change it! Anyways, I hope you liked this! Also, there is no mention of the Lute-ified Cybertronian being Sentinel's sparkmate, but if you want her to be, you can imagine it. ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Mentions of body mutilation, attempted murder, death, murder and trauma ⚠️

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Optimus Prime ══════════════════════════╝

⚔️ Graduating alongside your old friend, Napier, you began to serve your Captain, Supersonic. Who, despite the fact he had a large processor, was a very good leader when it came to any kind of military issue

⚔️ Now, many cycles after your first day alongside the two Elite Guard members, you were now working with a space-bridge repair crew lead by your sparkmate, Optimus Prime, you were happily watching over Sari while her father worked

"Hey Y/N!" The young girl yelled from the ground.

"What's up, Sari?"

"Why do you have that patch on your eye?"

⚔️ Your one good optic widened as you reached up and felt the metal patch covering your opposite optic. The straight-edged black metal with a rose-red x on it making your digits repulse slightly

"It's a long story, you really don't wanna know." You said nervously.

"No! No! No! I've wanted to know as well!" Bumblebee said, standing up from behind the human child.

"Know what?" Bulkhead asked as he walked in.

"What happened to Y/N's optic."

"Oh yeah! Me three!"

"Now, now, you guys. If Y/N doesn't feel comfortable telling the story, they shouldn't have too." Optimus said as he laid a servo on your shoulder.

"I concur." Prowl said.

⚔️ Sari, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead all awed as you smiled gently and laid your servo on Optimus', assuring him that it was fine for them to ask you since they were far more innocent with the cost of serving underneath Ex-Captain Supersonic

⚔️ Motioning for them all to sit down, even having Ratchet join in right before you began the tale, much to his fake chagrin. You felt Sari finally situate her blanket around herself and lean into the large pillow she held to look at you and listen

"It all started during one of our patrols to check for any rogue Decepticons..."

»–•–«

⚔️ Walking side-by-side Napier, you smiled and nodded along with her rambles. She was speaking about how troublesome some of your previous classmates at the Autobot Academy were since they were joining your regiment under Supersonic

"Lieutenants Y/N and Napier."

⚔️ Turning around, you saw one of your Captain's mechs bowing lightly before standing and telling you that the titular mech wanted you and her to speak with him in his office

⚔️ Nodding along with his words like you did with Napier, the three of you walked down many halls towards the golden-office, stopping only until Supersonic allowed the door to be opened

⚔️ Sitting down with his pedes up on his desk as he sharpened his axe-like weapon, you bowed alongside your friend

"Captain Supersonic."

"Ah, just the two I wanted to see! We have an incident that needs immediate care."

"What seems to be this 'incident'?" Napier asked.

"There are some Decepticon signals being caught on this planet- uh... what was the planet's name again?" He asked the Bot who had escorted you both there.

"Bov 05UC, sir."

"Yeah! Bov 05UC. You two need to go there and arrest them, bring them back, and you'll be on my good side even more! How does that sound?" He said, leaning back to continue sharpening his weapon.

⚔️ Staring at Napier, you nodded before announcing your agreement to the departure

"Alright! You are both needed in the ship in... a megacycle. You might wanna get packin'."

"Understood, sir." Napier said.

"Have a good rest of your cycle, sir."

"Yeah, yeah. Get out."

»–•–«

"Wow! He sounds like a big scrap-head!" Bulkhead said.

"Well, you're not wrong. Captain Supersonic wasn't the most polite Cybertronian back home. I remember one time he literally came to me injured during the war and expected me to treat him like some prince! He was beyond arrogant with his title." Ratchet admitted.

"Anyways, Y/N, do continue," said Prowl.

"Yes, well, when we arrived on the planet, that was when the incident occurred."

»–•–«

⚔️ The sound of swords clashing was all you could hear besides the screams of the inhabitants of Bov 05UC running away from the fighting

"Y/N, that 'Cons getting away!" Napier yelled, pointing her sword at a runaway Decepticon.

"I got 'em!" You yelled back, chasing after the enemy.

⚔️ Landing from the jump before the alleyway, you watched the short Decepticon turn around. It wasn't a grown Cybertronian, it was a young one... a sparkling...

⚔️ Sorrow filled you as you lowered your spear from attack mode from seeing their fearful optics

⚔️ Stepping towards him, you hushed him in an effort to keep him safe and quiet so that Napier or another guard couldn't hear you sparing his life

"Go. Run now!" You whispered as the little one ran off.

⚔️ Hearing steps behind you, you were shocked to see both Napier and Captain Supersonic there. Napier then grabbed your arm, pulling you towards her, before striking you down with her own sword

⚔️ You screamed in pain as she stabbed your fallen optic into the ground

"Decepticon-sympathizing filth like you has no place in the Elite Guard." She said, ripping your title and honor away from you in a single action.

⚔️ As the two walked away, you struggled to walk off. Only to be found by a random Cybertronian, one you didn't recognize. They kneeled before you with a shock-filled expression before covering your energon-bleeding wound with a large cloth from their carry-on compartment

»–•–«

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! So your friend, who you grew up with just- tore your optic out and took your position away from you like it was nothing! Who does she think she is?!" Sari yelled.

⚔️ Optimus looked at you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side as you smiled and patted Sari's little head with your digit

"It's fine now, Sari. I have a great life now. I have a real family. You guys care about one another like nobody ever did back in the Elite Guard. Well, at least the subgroup that Supersonic once led."

"You keep talking about him in past tense, did he like retire or something?" Bumblebee asked.

"Something of the sort..." You nervously answered.

⚔️ Ratchet stood up after you drifted off topic, finishing your answer honestly himself

"He went offline during another battle against Decepticons. Though, those ones were forced to be obedient against their will. Napier, by what I remember, was sent to prison for attempting to kill her fellow soldiers during a state of rage-driven madness."

⚔️ Sari's eyes widened as she looked back at you and Optimus

"You also said that you have a real family now... do you consider us family?" Bulkhead asked.

"Of course! Prowl's the oddball, Ratchet's the grumpy old-mech, Bee and Bulk are the younger siblings, Sari and Isaac are basically like the friends of the unit-"

"And you and Optimus are like the parents!"

"Huh?!" "What?!"

"Too much?"

"Just a tad..."

[bump1nthen1ght]

Fair Winds, Following Seas (M!Reader x M!Siren)

Pairing: Male!Captain!Reader x Male!Flirty!Siren

Genre: Pirates, Pining, Flirting

Word Count: 2257 words

Warnings: N/A

Summary: As a captain of a feared pirate crew, not much terrifies you. Not even keeping the company of a man-eating siren. 

Based on this request: (A/N: WHELP I clearly misread this request haha, a more accurate version of this request can be found here, but for now enjoy this piece!) May I request a flirty male! siren! reader with a male gruff pirate captain? I'll leave the details up to you! Love your works by the way, take all the dang time you need. :3

One of your favorite things about being captain is being at the helm. With nothing but an endless ocean in front of you and a steady grip on the wheel, you’ve never felt more at peace.

Except for right now, with an incessant rapping on your shoulder.

“Yes, Mr. Brightley?”

Your nervous, newest third mate jolts at your voice, probably just having worked up the nerve to approach you in the first place.

“U-um, the lookout has spotted a stranded person sitting out on the rock.” His shaky hands point out on the horizon, where a large outcrop stands solitary amidst the waves. The kind of rock that could sustain no other life than a seagull and crustaceans.

Your brow furrows.

“Really?”

“Yes, captain. The crew was wondering if we should stop and help them-”

“What do they look like?”

That stops Mr. Brightley in his tracks.

“Uh-”

“Check for me, will you?” You nod your head to the nearby telescope. Your ship is slowly riding the waves, the rock just within viewing distance.

Mr. Brightly shakily takes the scope, extending it and trying to catch any general features.

“Uh, long black hair, tan-” Brightley’s free eye squints, “It looks like they're wearing a sheet?”

You sigh.

“Tell the crew to get the rowboat ready, I’ll go and check this out.”

—

Your younger crew looks at you like you're crazy as you insist on going out to the rock by yourself, bringing nothing but a rope, a ladder and a bucket of fish with you. You told them you’ll be back in a few hours, another baffling fact.

As you row through the crashing waves,  a beckoning, melodic voice calls out to you.

“Oh, my savior!” The tenor calls out in fake falsetto, white linen flowing around his nude figure like Aphrodite. “I’ve been stranded for days. I thought I was a goner.” You throw a rope up the side of the rock, a snake-like hand grabbing it with precision. 

His face is beautiful, practically carved out of marble. His warm brown eyes are that of a doe, all innocent and alluring. “Whatever can I do to repay you?”

“Cut the crap, Harris.” 

You toss the pail of sea sweater directly into Harris face, the sheet wrapped around his chest going sheer. Harris just tosses his hair, water speckling like a rainbow as false skin fades into green scales, those doe eyes glowing a bright yellow and his demure smile becoming full of sharp teeth. He still resembles a human, a handsome one too, but this form is much more real.

“Ah, you always know how to make my day, Captain.”

Harris knots the rope around a sturdy rock, foregoing your rope ladder entirely and diving into the water with perfect precision. You roll your eyes.

“Showoff.” Haris flips back his long hair, now dark and tangled with sea water, as he pulls himself up onto the rowboat. His triceps flex and he gives you a wry smirk “You know you could send me a letter, like a normal friend does. Don’t have to do-” You gesture to the giant rock, to the diaphanous sheet now barely hanging off his hips, “-all this.”

“Nonsense, Captain.” Harris leah's over and sends a wave to your crew, most likely absolutely gobsmacked at this point. “These meetings are special! Special things deserve some drama.”

Harris flops his body over your legs, hand thrown over his forehead like the cover of a bodice-ripper. The sheet wraps around his waist, somehow making his sharp v seem all the more pronounced.

You scoff, setting your large oars aside and giving your arms a break. The sun is bright today, reflecting off the wear and right into your eyes. Sweat has begun to pool onto your brow.

A calloused, scaly hand runs up the side of your face, drawing your attention. The tips of Harris’ claws just graze your skin, lingering over a strip of puckered skin right by your jaw, no bigger than an inch.

“Is this new?”

You hum, remembering the scuffle at the bar they gave you the scar. It wasn’t even a good enough story to tell, the mark itself easily covered up by some facial hair, if you wanted to.

“Well, it makes you no less handsome.”

Harris sits up on his elbows, eyes dangerously darting across your lips. His tongue, long and black, darts in between his teeth.

You throw your thighs up and even Harris’ strong core isn’t enough to keep him steady. He falls off of you, quite ungracefully.

“Hey! Watch the merchandise, these looks are important, y’know?”

Harris brushed back his hair, showing off the sharp cut of his jaw and his perfectly pushed up cheekbones. They glimmer green and gold in the sunlight.

You grab a fish from the bucket and throw it in his face. Harris catches it between his teeth. He gives you a wink as blood and bone crunch under his fangs. 

“Hope you like mackerel, cause that's all you're getting.”

Harris pushes your knee in jest, lips so pouty, but graciously accepts the heaps of fish you give him. You’re lucky you're almost completely nose-blind, as you're sure the boat reeks of fish guts and brine at this point. 

“Now tell me Captain,”” Harris says, still picking flesh from his teeth, “-what ya been up to?”

“Nothing much.”

“You always say that.” Harris whines, stripping flesh clean of the bone with one bite. “Must I pry out every battle and plunder you’ve gone through? You’re a fearsome pirate Captain, brag a little.”

“This coming from the man who's been inside the Marianas Trench and didn’t tell me until I knew him for a year. ” You pull out a fresh orange, thankful you didn’t get any of the fish-stink on your hands. “Pot calling kettle black, Harris.”

“Ugh, you’ve seen the Marianas Trench once you’ve seen it you’ve seen it 

hundred times.” Harris throws a fish bone over the side, crossing his arms and leaning on your seat. “Now, suck it up and tell me about a ‘port’ of some sort!”

This was how it always went with Harris. For a siren, he was weirdly fascinated by your land-locked tales. You’d think he’d hate human stuff, given you met when rescuing him from a fishing net.

“Meh. Some sirens are shitty, some sirens are good. I’m sure humans are the same. I mean, you seem pretty cool.”

The next time your paths crossed had been accidental. Harris almost lured one of your men over the side. But after that snafu, he agreed to let the poor soul go in exchange for another story, something exciting like you had distracted him with when cutting him free. 

After that began the trade; he told you about his underwater escapades, you told him about your land ones. You seemed to be like magnets, paths always crossing in a wide wide ocean. 

“Ooh, like this.” Harris lunges forward, clawed hand going for your neck. After years of this, you don’t even flinch. The claws pull at the lace of your new necklace, pulling out the mother-of-pearl pendant ensconced in gold in the center. “I bet this has a story. Where did you get this from?”

“Hmm, just a bet gone right at a port bar. The one I told you about, with all the seashell decorations”  It was a common haunt of you and your crew, your face well known and respected. “Stupid bastard just wouldn't stop playing. He must have been a stupid noble or something, trying to make it on his own. Too much gold and not enough sense.” You look at the pendant, seeing the faint colors shimmer in the sunlight. “He only quit after he lost this, must’ve been an heirloom cause he got real red in the face afterwards. Lunged at my neck with a fork.” 

“Oh! Oh! Did you stab his hand into the table? Did you grab him by the collar, hold your sword up to his neck and say ‘Unhand me, fool, or I’ll wear your guts for garters’?”

You raise your eyebrow.

“You’ve been reading too many of those romance novels. No, I punched him and he was out like a light.”

Harris flops down, a pout.

“Well, what about the gold?”

“Spent most of it that night. Well, the crew did. I think they bled that poor tavern dry.” You laugh, fiddling with the pendant. That had been a fun night. “I held onto the rest.”

“Well surely you spent some of it. Didn’t you party with your crew?”

“Nah, I love the lads but they make poor company when drunk.”

“Hmm, so you prefer the company of others.” Harris wiggles his eyebrows, leaning forward and an elbow. “Anyone in parti-cu-lar?” Harris gives an exaggerated wink, scrunching up his cheek and all.

You aren’t moved by the performance

“Like I said, too many romance novels.”

“Oh come on!” Harris grabs another fish, ripping its head off with one movement. “Do you know how small the eligible siren population is? There's only about 500 of us, and you’re lucky if the siren you're courting isn't an ex's ex of an ex. There’s like, thousands of you humans-”

“More like billions-”

“-and you’re saying no one comes to mind? Not even a young ingénue waiting for their fearsome captain to come back from the sea? Or pining over that rugged lover they took one night, who blew their stockings right off?” Harris takes a bite of the fish, spitting out pieces of bone over the side. He leans forward further on his elbows, chin just inches from brushing against your thigh. “You’re telling me they don’t just throw themselves at you, Captain. You? Surely there must be someone who caught your eye.”  Harris gestures to your whole body. 

You exhale through your nose, staring right into Harris' deep yellow eyes. You’re no artist, nor a writer, but you wonder what the right words would be to describe him.

Someone with big eyes, with that aquiline nose. Whose eyes are like the sunset on the water, clear yet vibrant. With a black tongue, sharp teeth and even sharper claws.

“Nope, no one.”

Harris rolls his eyes, shoving your thigh with a half-strength push. 

“Fine, keep your secrets. I’ll pry you open one day, Captain.”

Fortunately, the conversation quickly drifts from your love-life to his recent misadventures. Mostly boring, according to him; Riding the gulf stream all the way to Iceland, helping a whale calf back to its mother, and sinking an English ship with some siren buddies.

“All Royal Navymen, so not the tastiest meat. But my god, do they make interesting sport.”

You show him the scar on your side you have from when such a Royal Navyman had grazed it with a bayonet.

“Lost lots of blood. But I walked away with my head intact, can’t say the same for him.”

“Not that he had much to begin with.”

That gets a laugh.

Only the setting sun can cut your meetings short, the night at sea bringing a deathly chill you’re ill equipped to deal with. Harris offers to pull your rowboat back to your ship, knowing how the sun tires you to the bone.

Curious crew members flee from the side as Harris draws closer, his handsome face poking out above the water. You’re sure some of them have already stuffed cotton in their ears, terrified of Harris. It takes your second hand, Ricky, to let the rope ladder down after you call everyone else cowards.

“I see what you mean about your crew, Captain. Who’d be afraid of little ole me?”

He presses a finger to his cheek in faux innocence, smile still filled with teeth. You splash some more water in his face.

You hop onto the bottom rung of the stepladder after typing up the rowboat, sluggish crew still too afraid to approach the side and pull the boat up. You turn back to Harris, who lingers in the water.

“Well, Farewell Captain! May your adventures be plentiful, so I have something interesting to listen to next time”

Harris propels himself upward, giving a dramatic bow half-way out of the water. You can’t fight the smile. Such a drama queen.

“Hey Harris?” You call back, now hanging off the ladder with one hand. The other gestures for Harris to come closer.

“Yes?” Harris asks, leaning up with brows furrowed.

His lips are just as salty as you’d expect. With only a three second peck, you’re already fiending for some water. It’d be harder to pull away, otherwise.

Those eyes are blown wide open, cheeks flushed an unnatural color you’ve never seen before. It’s a brand new expression on Harris, it shoots a pleasant bolt down your spine.

“Until we meet again.”

You tap the side of the rope, quickly yanked up by Ricky. You shoot only a glance back and see Harris, jaw dropped open like a guppy.

By the time you’re back on the deck, he seems to have dived back in the water, and your crew are pulling cotton out of their ears.

You give Ricky a pat on the back and he gives you a knowing smile. He’ll never let this go, that’s for sure. 

You saunter off into your quarters, Mr. Brightley and the rest still as befuddled as before.

“Absolute madman, he is.” Mr. Brightley says, wondering how he’d fit all your escapades into his letter to his sister. Hopefully her Captain was more sane than his.

[inseobts]

Sleight of Heart

nami x fem!reader

you flirt with men to manipulate them and get whatever you want from them, so what happens when you meet the strawhats?

a/n: happy pride month, my sapphics ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊

words count: 4.7k

tags: slow burn, thief x thief, post-timeskip, enemies to lovers, clever reader, tension

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The sun burns bright over Asteria, a busy island full of life, music, and secrets. The Strawhat crew walks through the main market street, loud and colorful as always. You see them from a rooftop, leaning over a balcony with a half-eaten apple in your hand.

You already know who they are.

Monkey D. Luffy. Pirate captain. Rubber boy. Big smile. Easy to fool, if he’s distracted.

Roronoa Zoro. Strong. Grumpy. Bad with directions. Not your target.

Nico Robin. Too smart. Too calm. Too risky.

Franky, Usopp, Brook, Chopper… All dangerous in their own ways. At least for what you have in mind.

Vinsmoke Sanji...

Ah, Sanji. Weak for a pretty face.

Bingo!

But the one to truly worry about?

Nami.

You see her now, walking near the back of the group. Arms crossed. Eyes scanning. Calculating. You can almost feel her sharp mind from up here.

She’s just like you.

Too bad.

You jump down from the roof, land silently in a side alley, and slip into the crowd. You wait, moving carefully. You smile when Sanji walks closer.

Now or never.

You step into the open and “accidentally” bump into him.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” you say in a sweet voice, placing your hand on his chest lightly.

Sanji’s eyes turn into hearts instantly.

“Mon dieu! Are you okay, mademoiselle?” he asks, taking your hand and holding it like it’s made of gold.

You already slipped your fingers into his coat. There’s a bag of beli in there, too easy.

But before your hand can close around it, another hand grabs your wrist.

Strong. Quick.

“Nice try.”

You look up, and there she is. Nami. Amber eyes locked onto yours. She caught you but you don’t flinch.

Instead, you smirk “Took you long enough.”

Her eyebrows twitch “You knew I was watching?”

“I was counting on it.”

You twist your wrist, not to break free, but to slide a small coin into her palm. Her fingers close around it by instinct. She opens them. The coin is fake, cheap metal, painted gold.

Nami looks at it. Then at you.

You’re already gone.

Vanished into the crowd.

Back on the Sunny, Nami stares at the fake coin.

Robin notices “Trouble?”

“Maybe.” Nami slips the coin into her pocket “She’s good.”

Robin smiles “Good enough to fool you?”

Nami doesn’t answer but her lips curl into a tiny, curious smile “Not for long.”

The diner is loud. Full of clinking silverware, sizzling oil, and way too much talking. It smells like grilled fish and spiced rum. The Strawhats sit at a corner table, taking up too much space as usual.

You spot them through the window.

You grin.

They don’t see you yet. Not until you open the door and walk in like you belong there. No disguise, no tricks. Just confidence.

You grab a chair from a nearby table and drag it across the floor. The sound makes Zoro glance over. Luffy pauses mid-bite. Sanji... oh, he lights up the moment he sees you.

You sit down at their table like you’ve been invited “Miss me?”

“Angel!” Sanji gasps, nearly knocking over a glass “What a miracle—did fate bring you back to me so soon?”

You lean your elbow on the table, chin in your hand “Maybe I just like the way you blush.”

He practically melts into his suit.

“You shouldn’t be here” Nami says from across the table, arms crossed.

You don’t look at her.

You keep your eyes on Sanji “Is this the part where someone kicks me out?”

Luffy shrugs “You seem fun. I vote she stays.”

Chopper giggles. Usopp is nervous but interested. Brook’s just happy to have another pretty face at the table.

Zoro says nothing, which probably means he’s watching too closely.

“Can I get you something, mademoiselle?” Sanji asks, already rising from his seat “What do you drink? Wine? Tea? Something sweet like your voice?”

You tilt your head “Surprise me.”

Sanji bows low and rushes off to the counter.

You finally turn to Nami. She hasn’t stopped staring.

“Relax,” you say “I’m not here to rob you… again.”

“Then why are you here?”

You smirk “I like to fool men. Can you blame me?”

She blinks once. Not offended. Not angry.

Intrigued.

“You’re honest” she says slowly.

“Only when it makes people trust me.”

She nods once, almost like approval. But there’s something else under her gaze now... curiosity. Calculation. Maybe even respect.

“You know you won’t get far with Sanji” she says.

“Oh, I know,” you say with a wicked smile “But watch this.”

Sanji comes back with a fancy glass filled with something pink and fruity. A paper umbrella leans on the rim.

“For the goddess at our table” he announces, placing it in front of you.

You take a sip “Delicious. You made it?”

“Of course! I used—”

You interrupt, leaning in “You always treat strangers this nice? Or just the ones with long eyelashes?”

He stutters “N-no! I mean—yes? I mean—uh—it’s not like that!”

You laugh. It’s charming. Loud enough to make a few heads turn.

“Relax. You’re adorable.” you say, tapping his chest lightly.

His eyes go soft “I would die for you.”

You raise an eyebrow “Would you tell me anything I asked?”

“Anything!”

“Even secrets?”

He looks around, drops his voice, and leans in like a schoolboy “You wanna hear how I once cried over a sea king because it reminded me of a soup my mom used to make?”

Your smile grows wider.

Nami watches this with raised brows.

You glance her way, then wink.

You twirl the umbrella from your drink between your fingers, eyes moving from one Strawhat to the next.

Sanji’s already yours. He hangs off every word you say like you’re some sea goddess he dreamed into existence.

Brook’s not hard either. You only had to compliment his style and call him “elegant” before he offered to write you a song “May I see your panties?” he asked, and you only laughed. Poor guy nearly exploded when you said, “Buy me dessert first.”

Usopp? Easier than expected. You said, “You look like a man who’s seen real danger” and he told you five war stories in two minutes. You told him his aim must be deadly, he blushed red and nearly spilled his water.

Chopper shyly asked if you were a doctor too. You leaned in and whispered, “Only the kind that heals broken hearts.” He squeaked and hid behind his hat.

Even Franky cracked when you complimented his “super” arms and asked if he could build you a weapon one day.

Luffy… okay, maybe not “seduced” but even he’s laughing at your jokes now. You told him he has the best smile in the world. He gave you a piece of his meat.

Robin sips her tea slowly, watching it all unfold. She doesn’t say much but she’s watching.

“You’re really good at this” she says at last, smiling.

You smirk “I study people. Their tells, their weaknesses. Most men just want someone who listens. Or laughs. Or touches their hand at the right time.”

Nami raises an eyebrow “So that’s your trick? Manipulation?”

“Call it… understanding.” You shrug.

Robin chuckles behind her hand “You’ve gotten into all of them.”

“All but one...” Nami says, standing from her seat. She points across the table.

Zoro sits there, arms crossed, one eye half-closed, sipping his drink like this entire thing bores him.

You grin “Ah. The hard one.”

“If you can crack him,” Nami says, folding her arms, “I’ll give you something I’ve never told anyone about. A treasure I found on Skarva Island. Secret map. Gold. Real deal.”

Robin arches an eyebrow “You never told me about that.”

Nami just smiles “Didn’t need to.”

You look at Zoro, then back at Nami “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.”

You lean back in your chair, cracking your knuckles “Oh, now this is fun.”

Zoro hasn’t said a word in ten minutes. He’s just sitting there, arms folded, eye on you like he’s waiting for something to impress him.

You know the type. Stoic. Quiet. Sharp under the silence.

You lean your elbows on the table, turning your full attention to him now.

“Zoro, right?” you say casually.

He grunts “Mm.”

You rest your chin in your hand “Swordsman. Second-in-command. Scary.”

He doesn’t answer.

You smile “You don’t talk much.”

“Nope.”

“Because you’re mysterious? Or because you just hate people?”

“Both.”

That gets a soft laugh out of Robin. Even Nami cracks a half-smile.

You nod slowly “You know… the strong silent type is the easiest to read.”

Zoro raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced “Oh yeah?”

You lean in a little “You watch everything, but you don’t say anything. That means you trust your instincts more than people.”

He blinks. Stays quiet.

“But here’s the catch,” you go on, tone softening just a bit “People like you don’t hate people. They hate wasting time on people. There’s a difference.”

You meet his gaze. Steady. Calm.

“And I think,” you continue, lowering your voice just slightly, “you already knew I wasn’t a threat.”

His eye narrows.

You grin.

“That’s why you didn’t stop me before. And you were watching if someone else would.” You nod toward Nami.

Zoro doesn’t smile but he gives the smallest shrug, and says, “You talk too much.”

You lean back and cross your arms smugly “Which is your way of saying I’m not wrong.”

Zoro does a short nod towards you before drinking again. Which means you’re right.

Robin claps once, slowly, amused.

“Impressive” she says.

Nami leans forward on the table, hands steepled, eyes on you now with intent.

“Alright,” she says “You win.”

You raise an eyebrow “The treasure?”

She taps her pocket, smirking “We’ll talk about it.”

Later, most of the crew gets distracted arguing over dessert. Sanji is still telling Brook about how your smile “cured his heart.” You, Robin, and Nami linger at the table, your drink now halfway gone.

Robin leans over, voice low and curious “So tell us the truth. Why all the charm games?”

You swirl your glass gently “Men are easy. Predictable. They react fast. It’s all surface-level with them.”

Nami quirks a brow “So you don’t actually like any of them?”

You smile. Not flirtatious this time. A little softer “No. I don’t play with people I’m interested in. That’d be too messy. Too… distracting.”

Robin watches you with interest “So… women?”

You meet her gaze, then glance toward Nami. You speak slowly, honestly this time.

“I don’t joke about women.” you say “They don’t deserve that. When I speak to a woman, I want it to mean something.”

Nami’s quiet. She stares at you for a beat too long.

Robin looks between you both, then just sips her drink.

“So…” Nami says eventually, voice quieter now, “you play men… but you respect women.”

You nod once “Exactly.”

She leans back in her chair, studying you again. But it’s different now. Less suspicion, more… interest. Like she’s trying to figure out what kind of game this is, but maybe hoping it’s not a game at all.

“Alright,” Nami says, slowly, “what do you mean… when you speak to me?”

You grin “I guess you’ll have to keep talking to find out.”

You’re still sitting with Robin and Nami, tension slowly turning into something warmer, when a sudden voice cuts through the table:

“Hey!”

It’s Luffy. Of course.

He’s leaning over three empty dessert plates like they wronged him, hands on the table, grinning at you.

“You should join my crew.”

Your eyebrows shoot up “…Sorry, what?”

“You’re sneaky!” Luffy says, like it’s a compliment “You’re fun. You tricked everybody. And you’re smart like Robin but more annoying, like Nami.”

“Wow, thanks” Nami mutters.

“I mean it,” Luffy insists “You could be useful for missions. Infiltrate stuff. Get into places. Pretend to be people. Like a spy! That’s cool.”

You blink, then laugh “You want a con artist on your ship?”

He grins wide “Yup!”

Usopp leans in “That’s actually not a bad idea. We’re always getting chased or caught.”

Sanji’s eyes sparkle “As long as she’s on our side…”

“I am not babysitting another thief” Nami cuts in but her voice is dry, not angry.

Robin tilts her head, smiling “She’s already halfway in.”

Zoro shrugs “Just don’t steal my swords and we’re fine.”

Chopper tugs your sleeve “Can you fight, though?”

Luffy’s eyes widen “Yeah! Can you fight?”

You lean back, stretch your arms above your head, then smirk “I don’t pick fights. But I finish them. Okay, that was corny, but look.”

You reach down and lift your pant leg, revealing a slim blade strapped to your thigh. Not flashy, silent. Practical. Deadly.

“Knives,” you say “Fast, quiet, and sharp.”

Robin nods “Elegant choice.”

Nami tilts her head “Do you use them well?”

You grab your knife, point at a bounty poster at the other side of the local, all people in the middle enjoying their night.

“Look at the “O” of “dead Or alive”.”

You throw the knife without even thinking twice and hit right in the middle of the “O”.

Everyone at the table goes quiet.

You turn back, raise your glass, and smile “Good enough?”

Luffy slams both hands on the table “You’re joining.”

You pause, sipping the last of your drink, watching them all. This is insane. Reckless. Completely dangerous.

But… kind of perfect.

You finally set the glass down.

“Alright,” you say “I��m in.”

Later, as everyone leaves the diner and heads toward the Sunny, Nami walks beside you, her arms crossed, a smile just playing on her lips.

“You really said yes.”

“I like chaos” you say.

She glances sideways “You’re gonna regret this.”

You nudge her with your shoulder “I doubt it. I haven’t had this much fun in a while.”

Nami slows her steps just slightly, walking closer “…Let’s see if you can keep up.”

You smirk “Oh, I plan to do more than that.”

It’s been almost two years since you joined the Straw Hats.

You’re not the new one anymore. You’re family. You share the table. The chaos. The fights. The treasure. The sky above the Sunny at night.

And most of all, you’ve earned your place.

Your role? Simple. Infiltrate. Extract. Disappear.

It’s your gift. You blend in. Play a role. Men talk too much when you smile the right way. Say the right thing. It’s always worked.

Until now.

You’re inside a high-end lounge in Arcaen Port, dressed sharp, drink untouched, eyes locked on your target across the velvet booth.

Except your target… is a woman.

She’s calm. Powerful. She’s watching you the same way you usually watch others. And you freeze.

You hesitate... not out of fear, but out of something else.

This isn’t the game you usually play. Women aren’t pawns. They’re not jokes. They don’t deserve to be manipulated. And they don't let people manipulated them.

That’s always been your rule.

But this woman has the information you need. Info on a Celestial delivery, something that could save thousands. Luffy’s counting on you. So is the rest of the crew. Franky needs it to stop a weapons shipment too.

You take a breath. Let the moment settle in your chest.

Your voice goes soft. Flirtatious “I couldn’t help noticing the way you walk like you own the room.”

The woman smiles, leaning closer.

Hook set.

But somewhere on the sea, back on the Sunny, Nami watches through the transponder snail video feed. Robin beside her, calm as always.

The rest of the crew is off deck, but Nami stayed behind, “just in case.”

She’s used to this. You, sweet-talking idiots who fall for your smirk. It never bothered her.

Not when it was men.

But this... this is different.

You hesitate at first. She saw it. The slight twitch in your eye. The flicker of something in your hand.

And then you push past it.

You lean into the woman. Smile. Tilt your head the way Nami knows too well. Touch her wrist. Laugh.

Nami’s stomach twists.

Robin is quiet. Watching. Always watching.

“You okay?” she asks, softly.

Nami crosses her arms, a little too tight “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Robin’s gaze lingers on her. But she doesn’t push.

Nami focuses back on the screen, where you’re now sliding closer to the woman. Saying something low. Intimate.

And something burns under her skin.

Jealousy.

A feeling she doesn’t recognize at first, because she’s never let herself have it. Never thought you with those men mattered.

But seeing you with a woman, doing what you swore you never would... it changes everything. Because now it could be real.

And Nami suddenly realizes something she didn’t want to admit.

She doesn’t want to watch this anymore.

She wants you.

Back on the Sunny, it’s chaos in quiet voices.

Sanji is pacing. Chopper is gnawing on his hoof. Usopp’s leaning on the railing, muttering, “She’s fine, right? She has to be fine.”

Nami’s already halfway to the mini-boat. Boots laced, windbreaker half-zipped, stubborn fire in her eyes.

“She said she doesn’t flirt with women,” she snaps “And now she’s all over one? What if something’s wrong?”

“She can handle it, Nami,” Zoro says flatly, arms crossed “You going there now could blow the whole thing.”

“She’s not stupid,” Robin says calmly “If she crossed her own line, it’s because it mattered.”

“You don’t get it,” Nami says suddenly, her voice rising “She—She’s reckless and arrogant and she thinks she’s untouchable—”

Luffy tilts his head “You’re mad?”

“Yes, I’m mad!” she snaps, throwing her arms up “She always flirts like it’s nothing! With every guy in every town! And now it’s with a woman and—”

She stops herself.

Everyone is quiet.

Even Sanji, for once, doesn’t speak.

Nami exhales, sharp and fast. Her fingers twitch like she wants to hit something and then, colder, she mutters “I hate her.”

Silence.

The kind of silence that doesn’t belong on this ship.

The kind that stretches a second too long.

And then your voice “Good to know.”

They all turn.

You’re standing at the edge of the deck, soaked in dim moonlight, cloak fluttering in the breeze. The shadows under your eyes say you heard enough.

Your tone is even, but there’s something off. The sharp glint that usually dances in your words is gone.

Nami’s eyes go wide.

You step onto the deck, holding up a small rolled scroll and a black coin “I got everything you needed. Names, routes, drop points. She cracked after three drinks and a smile.”

No one speaks.

You look… wrong.

Not physically hurt. Not bruised. But dimmed.

You hand the scroll to Robin without meeting her eyes.

“I’m gonna get some air” you mutter.

And just like that, you turn and walk toward the back of the ship, disappearing into the shadows near the observation deck.

The silence left behind is loud.

Luffy sits down, cross-legged, eyes on the floor “She looked… sad.”

“She never looks like that.” Usopp murmurs.

Robin just holds the scroll tight, her expression unreadable.

And Nami’s still frozen. Staring at where you stood. The wind tugging her hair around her face.

Her hands are clenched at her sides.

She doesn’t say a word.

You haven’t come back down since.

You’re still somewhere above, maybe the observation deck, maybe the crow’s nest. No one knows. Or maybe they just pretend not to.

Dinner came and went. You didn’t eat.

You always eat.

Sanji cooked your favorite. Left it warming, just in case. No one touched it.

Now, the moon is high, casting silver light across the Sunny’s deck. The sea is quiet. Almost too quiet.

Nami is pacing. Barefoot. Hair tied back. Jaw tight.

“She heard me,” she says for the fifth time “She heard me say I hate her.”

“She also heard the part before that.” Robin adds gently, sipping from a cup of warm tea.

Sanji leans against the mast, arms crossed, for once not playing the romantic fool “You don’t hate her.”

“I know I don’t!” Nami snaps “That’s the problem!”

Robin glances sideways at her “Then maybe it’s time you tell her.”

“I can’t just walk up there and say ‘Surprise, I don’t really hate you, I actually might be in love with you, sorry for being jealous of someone who didn’t even matter.’”

“Why not?” Sanji says simply.

Nami glares “You’re seriously okay with this?”

Sanji shrugs “You think I haven’t noticed? The way you look at her when she’s not watching? You only get mad when she flirts with someone smart. And now that she had to flirts with a woman.”

Nami groans “Sanji…”

He smiles softly, but it’s not his usual over-the-top grin “I want the both of you to be happy. Even if it’s not with me. That’s what love’s supposed to mean, right?”

Robin places a hand on Nami’s arm “You’re not alone in this. But she is. Right now. And that’s not fair.”

Nami’s shoulders drop. Her chest is tight.

She doesn’t like feelings. Doesn’t like being soft.

But this one’s already slipped through the cracks.

“Okay,” she whispers “Okay. I’ll go.”

You’re sitting at the back of the ship, legs dangling over the railing. The breeze cools your skin. You’re watching the stars but not really seeing them.

You didn’t cry. Not really. But your chest aches.

You always told yourself women were off-limits. You respected them too much. Admired them. Needed them to be real, not illusions.

And now Nami, of all people, thinks you’re just another act.

“Hey.”

You freeze at the voice behind you.

Nami steps slowly into view, hands in her pockets, hair messy from the wind.

“I’m not here to fight...” she says “Or yell. Or… accuse.”

You don’t speak.

“I messed up,” she continues “I got jealous, and instead of admitting it, I acted like a child. I said something I didn’t mean.”

You glance at her, finally “Why did it matter? Me flirting with her?”

Nami swallows “Because it was real.”

You tense.

“Because it wasn’t a game anymore,” she says quietly “Because you looked at her like you meant it. And that scared me.”

You stare at the waves “I didn’t mean it.”

A pause.

“I only did it for the mission,” you add “Even though it felt wrong. Even though I hated myself for it. Because I thought I could handle it for one time.”

Nami walks closer, sits beside you on the rail. Close, but not touching.

“I never wanted to be someone who made you feel like you weren’t safe here,” she says “But I did. And I’m sorry.”

The silence stretches again.

This time, it feels softer.

You speak low “Why are you really here, Nami?”

She meets your eyes, and her voice is so raw it almost hurts.

“Because I don’t hate you,” she says “I think I might… actually like you... like LIKE you… love… love you.”

Your breath catches.

You blink, stunned and then for the first time in days you smile.

The world is quiet.

Just the gentle hush of waves against the Sunny’s hull. The occasional creak of the ship. Stars hanging above you, soft and endless.

You stare at her.

Her words echo in your chest.

It’s everything and nothing. It’s terrifying. It’s real.

You laugh, breathless “You’re not saying that just because you feel guilty, are you?”

Nami rolls her eyes “Do I look like someone who says ‘I love you’ to fix guilt?”

“…Fair.”

She glances down, fingers brushing the edge of the railing beside you “I’m saying it because watching you with that woman—watching you break your own rules—made me realize something.”

You tilt your head “What?”

“That I don’t want anyone else getting that close to you again,” she murmurs “Even for a mission.”

You don’t say anything. You just look at her.

Her voice lowers “Not because I own you. But because I want to be the one who gets to be close.”

It comes out of you before you can stop it.

“Then be close.”

She blinks. Breath catches.

You shift. Slowly. Cautiously. A hand reaches out, halfway between you and her, fingers hovering.

Her hand meets yours.

Fingers slide together like they were always supposed to.

You watch her eyes. There’s still that spark. That fire. But it’s softer now. Waiting.

You lean in.

She meets you halfway.

The kiss is slow.

Not rushed. Not desperate. Just real.

Her lips are warm, sure. Her hand finds your cheek. You hold her waist. The world tilts for a moment, but you don’t fall. Not this time.

When you pull back, your forehead rests against hers.

Nami’s smiling.

So are you.

“Finally” she whispers.

You laugh “Yeah. Took us long enough.”

From somewhere above, faintly “WHOOOOOOA!!”

You freeze.

Nami freezes.

You both whip your heads up toward the crow’s nest.

Sanji’s head immediately disappears.

Robin’s voice follows, calm as ever “Sanji. We talked about spying.”

“IT WAS TOO ROMANTIC TO IGNORE” Sanji yells from somewhere off-screen.

You groan, covering your face. Nami’s laugh shakes her shoulders, and this time when she kisses you, quick and soft and just yours, she doesn’t hold back.

The next island is bright, busy, and full of overly confident men in shiny coats who think they invented charm.

Perfect hunting grounds.

The mission? Infiltrate a minor noble’s gala to collect intel about a secret Marine experiment. You and Robin are the inside team. Sanji’s security backup. Nami… is in charge of recon.

Or so she insists.

“Can I trust you not to fall in love in there?” Nami asks, arms crossed, eyebrow raised, the picture of dramatic girlfriend energy. You’re already halfway into your gala disguise: sleek dress, earrings, confidence dialed to ten.

You grin “You can trust me to do the job.”

“That’s not an answer.”

You lean in, kiss her on the cheek “I’ll be back before midnight. Try not to burn the ship out of jealousy while I’m gone.”

“Don’t test me.” she grumbles, but her cheeks are already pink.

Robin smiles softly beside you “You two are worse than Luffy and meat.”

Inside the Gala

“Darling,” purrs a man in gold-trimmed boots, bowing too low “Surely you’ve never been kissed by a general before?”

You smile politely, hand grazing his wrist just long enough to lift the coded invitation from his pocket.

“Not yet.” you reply sweetly.

Robin snorts behind her wine glass.

“I swear I’m going to stab someone.” Nami growls from the comms, listening in from the ship.

“You said she was retired from flirting.” Sanji whispers dramatically.

“She lied!”

Back on the Sunny, hours later you strut up the gangplank, mission completed, dress a little rumpled, earrings gone, but smiling wide. Robin follows, calm as always.

“Hey, I got it!” you call “They’re planning to move the research to a sky island in a week. And the general thinks I like poetry.”

Luffy cheers “Let’s go steal stuff from the sky!!”

Franky whoops. Chopper claps. Usopp asks about fireworks.

Nami’s marching down the deck, fire in her eyes.

“You told him you like poetry?” she demands.

“It helped” you say innocently.

“You winked five times.”

“You were counting?”

She throws her hands in the air “I am dating the most frustrating woman in the world!”

You grin and tug her closer by the waist “Yeah, but I came back to you.”

That slows her. Just a bit.

Then she rolls her eyes and kisses you anyway “Next mission, I’m going in.”

“You sure?” you tease “I’m the master of disguise here.”

“I am the queen of jealousy.”

“That’s for sure.”

She squints at you “You want to test that?”

Robin sips tea behind you two “Please do. It’s entertaining.”

Sanji sighs dramatically in the background “Why are all the beautiful women already dating each other…”

Later that night, you lie on the deck with Nami curled against your side, her head on your shoulder, the sea whispering around you.

“You’re really not mad?” you ask softly.

She shakes her head “I’m always going to get a little jealous. But that’s just because I care.”

You smile, brushing her hair from her face “I’ll stop if you ask me to.”

She pauses.

Then grins “Don’t. I kind of like watching you work.”

You blink “Wait, what?”

“I said nothing.”

“Nami—”

“Goodnight.”

“NA—”

She kisses you again.

And just like that, the sea rolls on, and the two lovers lie under the stars, wrapped in sails, secrets, and the sweetest kind of trouble.

[nanawritesit]

Your Highness - Sanji x Reader: Part Three (Final Part)

PART ONE PART TWO

plot: you’re a runaway princess bride who finds her way into the straw hat crew. you expected one hell of an adventure, but you never expected to fall for the head chef. things get even more complicated when your father, the king, and your ex-fiancé send their troops after the going merry. now you must choose between surrendering to save your crew and being with the only man you’ve ever truly loved. but of course, the straw hat crew isn’t going to let you go without a fight. especially sanji.

—————

A singular tear rolled down your cheek and splashed onto the skirt of your new wedding gown. Although it was an exact replica of the one you wore a few months ago, it felt much more constricting this time. The corset was cinched so tight that you could hardly breath unless you stood up perfectly straight. Part of you hoped that if you slouched, one of the wires might pierce through the fabric and stab you in the stomach, causing you to bleed to death. It seemed an easier fate than the one that awaited you.

Your ladies’ maids were all scurrying about, putting the final touches on your wedding look. You tried to keep a brave face for them, but your mask was beginning to crack. You couldn’t stop thinking about how Sanji had fallen to his knees when you left him, and that helpless look on Luffy’s face. Leaving them was the hardest thing you ever had to do, but at least it was better than watching them get killed.

How wonderful it would have been to spend the rest of your life on the straw hat crew, fighting alongside your dearest friends. You could’ve spent an eternity playing their princess. But all the wishing and hoping and loving you did couldn’t keep you from being yanked back into the role you were born into. And worst of all, it cost you the only man you’d ever truly loved.

Now you were about to walk down the aisle, and it absolutely killed you that Sanji wouldn’t be waiting for you at the altar.

“Your highness?” one of your maids interrupted your thoughts. “May I place your tiara on your head?”

You flinched at the use of your title. It would never feel the same being called “your highness” ever again.

“Yes, go right ahead.” you mumbled, shifting to cross your legs. Except you couldn’t, because they were chained to the chair beneath you.

You groaned, stomping your heel on the ground. “Father is relentless, isn’t he?”

Once your maids were done getting you ready, they all exited the room and sent in your father, just as they were instructed to do. You weren’t to be left alone for even a second, even though you were literally chained to your chair.

“Ah, there’s my princess.” your father beamed as he entered the room. “You make a beautiful bride.”

You gave him a strained fake smile. “Wonderful. My only job in life is complete.”

“Don’t be silly, dear. You’ll also have to give birth to at least ten children.” he chuckled cruelly, leaning down to unlock the chains around your ankles.

You bit your tongue angrily. You wanted to kick the heel of your shoe straight through his eye. But you’d probably be thrown in the dungeon if you did, and no one would be on your side during your trial. You hated having the king as your father.

He helped you up out of your chair, then grabbed your shoulders and looked at you intensely. “I hope you understand who you belong to now. If you try to run away again…”

“You don’t have to worry about that, father.” you explained apathetically. “I have nothing else to live for now.”

“Good.” he grinned, linking his arm with yours. “Let’s go give you away.”

Your father led you down the long hallway to the doors of the chapel. As they opened for you, you could feel your soul splitting in half inside of you. Your guests all looked so happy, while you were fighting back sobs and focusing solely on placing one foot in front of the other.

As you reached the end of the aisle and your father lifted your veil off your face, you felt as if you might collapse onto the floor. But you just held your head up high, no sign of sorrow on your features. You weren’t going to let anyone see you be weak.

The priest began the service. You glanced over at your fiancé, who in contrast looked absolutely thrilled to be there next to you. You could tell he couldn’t wait to push you around and force you to be a perfect wife for him.

The priest was instructed to make the service as short as possible, in order to minimize the amount of time you could possibly run away. “Do you, Princess Y/N, take the Prince to be your lawfully wedded husband, as long as you both shall live?”

You froze. Your brain was telling you to say “I do,” but your heart was fighting against it. It felt like the air was sucked straight out of your lungs, preventing you from speaking.

“Say it.” your fiancé hissed through gritted teeth.

You gulped. “I…”

“Stop!” a voice called out, echoing against the chapel walls. Everyone immediately gasped and whipped their heads around, including you. Your heart stopped as you saw who the voice had come from. It was Sanji, power-walking up the aisle with the rest of the straw hat crew trailing in behind him.

“Sanji!” you cheered, dropping your bouquet and running to embrace him. You practically leaped into his arms, to which he caught you and twirled you around, a wide smile on his face. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t think I was going to lose my princess without a fight, did you?” he smirked, taking your veil off and throwing it across the room.

“Guards! Seize them!” your father ordered, standing up in his pew. In an instant, the guards were encroaching upon your crew. They all readied their weapons, attacking them upon confrontation.

“Y/N!” Zoro called out. You looked over to him, and he tossed you one of his swords. “Take this, and escape through the back. The ship is waiting in the port. We’ll be there as soon as we take care of these guys.”

You nodded, turning around to exit the chapel through the acolyte’s wing. As you exited the chapel, it was a straight shot through one long hallway out of the castle. You began sprinting down the hallway as fast as you could, picturing your freedom at the end of it.

Halfway down however, a presence emerged from the door behind you. You stopped in your tracks as you glanced behind you, gasping as you saw your father.

“I must say, your friends are better fighters than I thought.” he sneered, walking towards you with cold, calculated steps.

“Just let me go father.” you demanded, backing away from him. “I’m never going to be the person you want me to be.”

“Let you go?” he scoffed. “You belong to me. You’re either going to do as I say, or kneel in pieces.” He suddenly flipped open his cloak and revealed a sword on his hip, unsheathing it from its holder and brandishing it at you.

Without thinking, you held your sword out straight in front of you and assumed a fighting stance. In an instant, you and your father were swept up in a duel, clunking your swords against one another’s’ and spinning around the room.

“I must say, you’re a phenomenal swordsman.” your father grunted. “It is in your genetics after all.”

You scoffed. “It has nothing to do with you. I learned from Zoro.”

He furrowed his brow. “Who’s Zoro?”

“The world’s greatest swordsman.” you practically spat. In the midst of your father’s confusion, you spun around, kicking against the wall to jump up on a nearby table, landing with perfect balance. Using your high ground to your advantage, you kicked your father in the chest, causing him to fall to the ground flat on his back and drop his sword. You held the blade of your sword against his throat threateningly.

“Please, don’t… you win.” the King pleaded, holding up his hands in surrender.

“How do I know you won’t come after me again?” you demanded, pressing the blade even further to his flesh.

“You have my honor as a king.” he whimpered, trembling slightly.

“Give me your ring.” you ordered. “So that wherever I go, no one will ever bring me back here.”

He slid his ring off his finger and handed it to you. You placed it on your own finger and backed away from him slowly.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he sat up. “I suppose you’re not a princess after all.”

“I am a princess, father.” you told him with a satisfied smile. “I’m just not yours.”

And with that, you took off through the back doors of the palace, seeing the crew leaving through the front at the same time.

“Guys! Wait up!” you called out, running up to them.

They all turned around in surprise.

“Y/N? We thought you’d be back at the ship by now.” Nami questioned, an amused smile on her face.

“I had to tie up some loose ends.” you smirked, holding your hand up to showcase your fathers’ ring. Everyone’s’ eyes widened at the sight of it.

“Is that…” Sanji began, holding your hand to inspect it.

“My father’s ring.” you finished with a proud grin. “I fought him for it, and I won.”

“Yes! I knew you could do it!” Zoro beamed, patting you on the shoulder supportively. You swore it was the happiest you’d ever seen him.

You nodded excitedly. “This whole time I was worried I wasn’t going to be any good in a fight. But after taking on a king, I’m pretty confident in my skills.

“Well, now that there’s nothing standing in your way, are you reading to be our princess again?” Luffy asked with a hopeful smile.

“Of course I am, captain!” you squealed, causing everyone to enclose you in a huge group hug.

“Three cheers for the princess of the Going Merry!” Ussop cheered.

—————

Once the ship was back on the sea, you had gone into Sanji’s room with him for a moment alone.

“I can’t even begin to describe how thrilled I am to have you back.” he sighed, enveloping you in a tight embrace as soon as the door shut behind you.

“You don’t know how good it feels to be back.” you replied, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I was so relieved when you burst through those doors.”

Sanji smiled, leaning back to look you in the eye. “Well, it only took us about fifteen minutes to decide that we were going after you. Speaking of which, did we prove to you that we can handle ourselves in a fight?”

“Yes, you did indeed.” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I hope I did the same?”

He nodded admiringly. “You didn’t even really need us to save you. You won your own freedom.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” you told him. His face broke out in a huge grin as he leaned down to kiss you. You met him halfway, and as soon as your lips connected, it felt like all was right in your world again.

“Please don’t ever leave me again.” Sanji requested in a voice barely above a whisper, his forehead still pressed against yours. He was squinting his eyes, brows furrowed in desperation.

“I promise I won’t. And this time, I mean it.” you replied. He then kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands moving up from your waist to cup your face. You brought one hand up into his golden locks for stability, then brushed your tongue against his lips. He allowed it to pass by slipping his own tongue along your lips, the two of you now fully immersed in each other.

“I love you, Y/N.” he told you breathlessly between kisses. “Every single part of you.”

“I love you too Sanji.” you told him, practically gasping for air. “More than anything else in this world.”

He began kissing down your neck. “You look beautiful in a wedding dress, you know that?”

You giggled, tightening your grip on his hair as he nipped lightly at your skin. “You always think I look beautiful.”

“Because it’s always true.” he winked, going back up to kiss your lips. He deepened it slightly, then bit your lip at the end, releasing it from between his teeth before looking you in the eye once more. “Still, it’d be a shame to waste such a beautiful dress.”

You chuckled. “What are you saying, Sanji?”

He smirked, then grabbed your hands tenderly in his. He started lowering himself to the ground, kneeling before you on one knee. Your eyes widened as you realized what was happening.

“Y/N… From the day I first met you, I have been absolutely enamored with you.” he began, happy tears pooling in his pale blue eyes. “You continue to surprise me every single day with your strength, kindness, and never ending talents. You’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met, and I would be honored if…” He then pulled a box out of his pocket, opening it to reveal a ring. “If we could spend the rest of our lives together?”

You stared at him blankly for a moment, before nodding profusely. For a moment you couldn’t find any words. He just looked at you expectantly, a playful grin on his face. He gestured his hand impatiently, causing you to giggle.

“Yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you Sanji!” you finally blurted out, tackling him onto the ground.

He laughed as you did so, wrapping his arms around you tightly and kissing the top of your head. “Give me your hand, love.”

You did as he asked, and he slipped the ring onto your finger. You admired it, wincing at how beautiful it was.

“How did you even afford a ring?” you asked him, propping an elbow up to lean your head against.

“I got help from a friend.” he grinned, reaching into his pocket once again. He pulled out a letter and handed it to you. You furrowed your brow in confusion, opening it up to read it.

“To my little poetry princess,

I would like to begin by stating just how unbelievably proud of you I am. I always knew you would do great things, ever since you were a child. You had a spark in you that I knew would get you through any challenges you could ever face, and that one day you would have the great life of adventure you so desired.

While I will be sad to see you go, it brings me great comfort to know that you’ll be in the hands of someone like Sanji. I’ve only met him once, and that was to set up your rescue. But the way he spoke of you! I have never in all my years heard a man talk so fondly of a lady. He obviously cares for you tremendously. I know he’ll make a wonderful husband. This ring has been in my family for generations, and I would like you to have it, as you’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a daughter.”

You should be incredibly proud of yourself, my dear. Not many princesses have the courage to stand up for themselves. To chase after what they truly want in this world. To say they’re not happy with the part they’ve been assigned. You are truly special, princess, and it’s been my great honor raising you these past twenty years. Should you ever find yourself in Dacovia again, I should like to receive a visit from you and your husband. Oh, and do write often!

Love,

Your Governess”

You sniffled and wiped away the stray tear that hung at the corner of your eye. “So she was the one who got you guys into the castle?”

Sanji nodded with a smirk. “I told you, your loved ones will always want the best for you.”

You jumped on him once again, catching him off guard but making him chuckle nonetheless. You began attacking his face in kisses, not being able to hold back your affection.

As you ran out of energy, you sighed and laid back down on the floor next to him, holding his hand gingerly. “I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

He smiled that perfect smile of his, kissing the back of your hand. “I’m going to make you so happy, your highness.”

“I already am.” you told him. “As long as you’re here next to me.”

—————

TAGS:

@genshingeeksworld @gg-trini @sinmp @mitsureigen @fanficwriter5 @sophiaj650 @number-0-iz @tr4shygrrl @ren-ni @secretlife028 @sapphireonline @seodami

[generalsdiary]

if you accept requests, can i request sunday with an express crew reader who has a fake halo ring on their head because they think that is pretty, they first meet him on the express and went to touch his halo ring thinking it is fake too? i know it is quite long and a bit specific so feel free to skip. And your writing is so good! your little analysis on sunday's wing ADORABLE.

(theirs is just plain sparkly rubber band😭)

hi anon! I do accept requests. and seriously don't worry, I LOVE THE IDEA, it is not at all too specific or long; actually the perfect amount for me to work with.

I would've written this yesterday when you sent the ask, but I was caught up painting (Sunday of all people lmao). also, I'm so glad you like my writing, tysm! hope you like this one, I wrote it really quickly, cos I'm still busy but this had caught my attention for sure.

Sunday x gn!reader

word count: 400~

One more check in the mirror, yes, it looks good. You nod at your reflection. The golden halo gives the illusion of realness. At least, that is what you tell yourself. It probably looks ridiculous to actual Halovians. Never mind, you smile at your sight in the mirror and head to the main car to greet guests.

Despite visiting Penacony with the crew, you failed to ever meet the infamous Sunday. And he looks even more beautiful in person, it is almost dazing.

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” you chirp, shaking his hand.

“Likewise” Sunday smiles, you can almost hear a choir singing. He looks like an angel. That halo is perfect. Should you ask him for tips? You reach out with your hand. “Your halo looks amazing, how did you make it so perfectly?” and… your fingers pass through nothing. Feeling a bit surprised, you ponder if it is a gadget with a projector? Doubtful. It takes a few moments before you notice that you stunned the poor man.

Sunday dryly chuckles, “It… it is very real, I assure you.” He takes a small step to the side, making his halo move further away from your touch.

To say you blushed would be an understatement. Hoping the Express would crash at that moment just so you wouldn’t have to deal with this situation, “Uh.. I- I am so sorry- I didn’t mean to-“ you fumble with your words trying to salvage the situation.

“I understand. I can see your… pretend one.“ He smiles. You’re internally cursing at yourself and biting the inside of your cheek, could this be any more embarrassing?

“I just think they’re pretty. Angelic, and wonderfully complimentary on a person.” There’s a proud aura around you, maybe you saved the situation.

“Ah, so you’re a flatterer. Thank you, I do agree they are pretty. Although, they are a genetic part of me.” Sunday smiles. Internal high five, you saved the conversation. Except for the fact Sunday looked at you up and down. Is he checking you out? Or judging the way your halo looks on you? Either way, you avert your gaze, swallowing hard. What a bold man.

“I wasn’t trying to flatter-“ No, you gotta be bolder; match his energy, “I know they’re genetic, as I know that your kind can even influence, some of them, how the halo ends up looking.”

There’s a knowing glint in his eyes and an ever-resting smile. “I’ll happily explain how and why… care to get a drink with me and we can sit by one of the windows?” And there’s no way in hell you say no to him.