#they actually let us hang posters there if we want

[paaelle]

I think I dreamed/had an idea of simply hanging a poster in my school that where like that image of "have you seen this person? Now you have :3"

But the person in the image was Foop

[luvsupa]

I WANT TO HEAR YOU SCREAMMM!

summary: whatever you do, do not fuck mr.ghostface!

tags: ghostface!geto x fem!reader, naoya mention .., set in the 90s and inspired by fear street!!, smut, ōral sex (m and f receiving), knife play, slightly mask kink, humiliation kink, exhibitionism kinda, death, mentions of blood, etc, mdni

w.c: around 3.6k (sorry I got carried away …)

a/n: THANK U GUYS FOR 1.6K WAAAATTTT WE GOIN UPPPPP YEASSS

+ geto in tbis fic looks just like this fanart 🙂‍↕️

kinktober masterlist

you lean against the register, bored out of your mind as you scribble distorted faces on your company’s notepad. working a night shift sucks—especially a closing shift. you huff as the intercom blasts the latest rock song, a weak attempt to liven up the dead atmosphere. lately, the cd shop has been busy with customers buying vinyls, posters, and movies. ugh, it was so annoying having to scan the newest movie, scream. the line was always so long it nearly wrapped around the whole building!

you glance out the glass front doors, scanning the empty, dark streets, genuinely debating whether you should close two hours early since no one is coming. your attention shifts as you hear the bell ring, indicating a customer entering.

ugh.

your smile drops when you see naoya, your annoying coworker who flirts with you in the weirdest ways. he’s always condescending and putting you down until you found out from another coworker that he’s actually attracted to you. he walks toward you, standing in front of the register as if he were a customer. you honestly forgot he was still here after he said he would take a ‘five-minute’ break an hour ago.

“you don’t get paid to draw, now do you?” he says, leaning over to grab the notebook. you let him take it, but he rips the page clean, crumpling it in his fist. gosh, you hated when he acted like the manager. “anyways, I’m clocking out! must suck having to stay for another… two hours!” he laughs, glancing at the clock above. he giggles as he walks behind the counter into the bright red font ‘employees only’ room, leaving you scoffing in annoyance. you waste time fixing the decorations on the register as every minute drags by.

ring!

your heart stops when you hear the company phone ringing. who the hell calls at this hour? you pick up the corded telephone and force yourself into a professional tone.

“thank you for calling cursed tracks, how may I help you?” you say, lazily watching over the store. there’s a long pause, and your brows furrow. is this a prank call?

“hello—”

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

you burst out laughing, doubling over at the blatant prank call. there’s no way. it’s beyond cringey that you would be a victim of ghostface’s evil scheme. tears roll down your cheeks as you hang up the phone, your laughter still ringing in your ears. but then, you stumble backward, colliding with something solid—no, someone. your laughter halts as you slowly turn your head, gulping hard as your eyes drop in horror. screaming in genuine fear, you see him: ghostface, knife in hand, just like in the movies.

you stumble back into the counter, panic rising as you cry out, cornered in the booth. he drops his hand and bursts into laughter, and your brows furrow in confusion. he lifts his hand to remove the haunting mask, and embarrassment floods over you.

seriously.

“naoya, that wasn’t funny,” you snap, shoving him away as he continues to laugh uncontrollably. “you— you should’ve seen your face! I wish I recorded this— we would’ve been stars!” he wheezes, still amused as you find none of this funny. he continues to mimic your reaction, and you bite your lip to keep from lunging at him.

“stop wearing display costumes, asshole! you’re gonna get us in trouble,” you scold, turning away as he playfully bonks your head with the fake plastic knife. irritation washes over you.

“jeez, naoya— just leave already, you’re ruining my alone time,” you say coldly, clearly annoyed by his antics. you hear his footsteps retreating to the employee room, allowing you to calm down from his stupid joke.

you lean against the counter once again, watching over the store in boredom, your eyes feeling heavy as each minute passes. maybe you should really quit- you’re not getting paid enough for this. you roll your eyes at the ruckus coming from the room behind you—nayoa’s making way too much noise.

bastard, you mentally insult him.

you close your eyes to rest them, feeling exhausted from the long shift when you suddenly sense someone standing behind you. your eyes shoot open, and your heart drops again as you turn around to see nayoa in that damn ghostface costume.

“very fuckin’ funny, naoya,” you scoff, trying to ignore him, but he doesn’t move. he’s breathing heavily under the mask, staying still as if waiting for your reaction. you turn to yell at him, but the words choke in your throat. your eyes drop to the knife he’s gripping in his hand, and it looks too real—dripping with what looks like blood. your breathing quickens as you glance at the fake plastic knife that naoya left on the counter, your eyes twitching in disbelief.

“o-okay, naoya, you’re scaring me.”

“darling, who’s naoya?” the male voice says, distorted through the mask’s speaker. tears rush to your eyes as you see blood seeping from under the employee room door.

you step back, your back hitting the counter, trapping you just like before when nayoa scared you. the male steps closer, tears spilling down your cheeks as fear overwhelms you; you can’t call out for naoya—he’s fucking dead!

without thinking, you attempt to jump over the counter, but before you can touch the ground, you feel yourself being yanked back by strong hands. you squeal at how fast he moves, pinning you against the wall with one hand holding you in place and the other gripping the sharp, bloody knife to your throat. your eyes widen, the blade too close to your artery. if you looked up at the popcorn ceiling. you’d see the end of it—your life flashing before your eyes.

“oh pretty, you were just acting like a big girl,” geto coos, his voice soft yet terrifying. the grip on the knife loosens slightly as he pulls back his head, and your eyes remain shut, fear washing over you.

“y’r sooo fuckin’ nasty, huh,” geto comments, and your brows furrow as you stare at the creepy face behind the mask. he chuckles, and you follow his gaze down—oh fuck. you wish your body wasn’t reacting on its own! you’re grinding your hips against his knee placed between your thighs, your rhythm so subtle you didn’t even realize.

“let’s test how nasty you really get.”

those were the last words that echoed in your head as he had you behind the counter, knees grinding against the freezing floor, your jaw aching from the relentless thrusts. his thick cock slammed into your mouth with brutal force—so deep that you swore you could feel him in your chest, the bulge in your throat visible as he used you mercilessly. both of his hands gripped your head with brutal force, his long fingers tangling in your curly locks as he fucked your face like a filthy fucktoy. his groans, muffled by the infamous ghostface mask, sent shivers down your spine, the hollow black eyes staring soullessly at you as he threw his head back in ecstasy. the obscene sounds of wet gags and sloppy suction filled the store, the mess overwhelming—drool and spit spilled uncontrollably from your mouth, coating his shaft and dripping down your chin, soaking into the front of your work shirt.

your nose repeatedly slammed against his crotch, the rough patch of his pubes tickling against your skin, making you tear up even more. the strain in your jaw was unbearable, his fat cock stretching you wide, each thrust so forceful you thought your jaw might snap. but you kept your grip on his jeans, fingers digging into the fabric as your throat was pounded raw. his heavy black boot was wedged between your legs, you couldn’t stop grinding on him. each roll of your hips against his boot sent delicious friction through your core, and you were drenched, your panties soaked through your pants, sticking to your swollen folds. the slick sounds of your cunt rubbing against his boot mixed with the wet slurps coming from your mouth, each grind making you moan pathetically around his cock.

geto’s head dropped down to watch, eyes behind the hollow mask taking in the sight of you—a filthy, drooling mess on your knees with his cock buried so deep down your throat that a bulge swelled in your neck. drool poured from your lips in thick strings, and your hips moved desperately against his foot, grinding on him like you couldn’t help yourself. but he didn’t let you keep going. his movements stopped abruptly, and with a harsh yank, he pulled your head back off his cock, making you gag and cough, gasping for air. the sound of your desperate choking echoed through the store as strings of spit connected your swollen lips to his twitching tip, your eyes wide with lust and tears. the sight of you, completely ruined in your leggings, face soaked and pussy grinding against his boot, only made him harder, his cock throbbing in front of your face.

“you jus’ can’t help it, can you?” geto growls, his voice thick with cruel amusement as he grinds his boot harder into your cunt, your soaked panties doing nothing to dull the friction. the pressure sends jolts of filthy pleasure up your spine, making you cry out pathetically, your body writhing against him. his grin stretches behind the ghostface mask, those empty black eyes staring down at you, drinking in your desperation.

in a single, brutal motion, he rips you off the ground and slams you onto the counter, CDs clattering to the floor around you. your legs fly up, bent and spread wide, exposing you to him completely. his eyes rake over your body like you’re nothing more than prey. with a harsh tug, he rips your pants off, tossing them carelessly behind him. the moment his gaze lands on the soaked crotch of your panties, your clit twitches in response, your cunt clenching involuntarily, knowing what’s about to come. the fabric is practically see through now, drenched in fear and filthy arousal, and it only makes his smirk widen behind the mask.

your eyes are glossy, chest heaving as your legs stay bent up, thighs trembling with anticipation. you should be terrified, and you are—but the heat pulsing through your core is undeniable. the sight of him towering over you with that eerie mask, black eyes hollow and unfeeling, does something sick to you.

without warning, geto pulls a another knife from behind him, the blade gleaming dangerously in the store light. you gulp hard, a whimper escaping your lips as he waves it inches from your face, the cold steel sending a wave of fear coursing through you, but it only makes your cunt throb harder.

“don’t move,” he whispers darkly, dragging the tip of the knife down your neck, making your skin break out in goosebumps. the blade hovers over your chest, your nipples hardening as he traces your curves. he presses just enough to remind you of its sharpness, enough to let you know he could cut deep at any second. the threat lingers in the air, the thrill of it making your thighs tremble.

he doesn’t hesitate when he reaches your shirt. with a quick flick of his wrist, you hear the rippppp of fabric as the blade slices your work button-up clean open, exposing your bare chest. the sharpness of the knife cutting through the material like paper sends a shiver of fear and arousal down your spine.

“cheap shit,” he sneers, but the way your nipples perk in the cool air has his cock straining even harder. his hand moves lower, the tip of the blade dragging dangerously over your trembling stomach, inching closer and closer to your cunt.

you gasp when he finally reaches your panties, the cold metal resting against the swollen lips of your pussy. “y’know. . .” he trails off, voice thick with lust as he presses the flat of the blade against your clothed clit, the cold, sharp edge making you jerk involuntarily. “never had someone so . . .desperate in their final moments.”

it’s humiliating how your clit twitches at the contact, how your cunt clenches around nothing, soaked and aching for him. he notices, of course, the way your hips twitch toward the blade, and the wetness that’s already beginning to drip down your thighs.

“fuckin’ embarrassing,” he mutters, but his voice is laced with something darker—he’s getting off on this, on how soaked you are for him. the knife slides lower, grazing your inner thigh, just shy of cutting you, the scrape of the blade against your skin sending shivers through your body. you can feel your pulse in your clit, each drag of the cold steel only making you wetter, more desperate.

“this turning you on, baby?” he asks, his voice low and mocking. you can’t even respond, too lost in the filthy heat coursing through you.

with a quick flick of his wrist, the knife slices through your panties, the sharp blade cold against your slick folds. you gasp, your pussy finally exposed, clit twitching as the cool air hits your drenched core. the knife grazes your swollen lips, barely a whisper of pressure, but it’s enough to make you moan, your cunt clenching desperately.

he hums in approval, staring down at your glistening pussy, the wetness dripping from your folds, thighs trembling as you lie there helplessly. geto’s exposed cock twitches painfully at the sight, his eyes narrowing behind the mask as he drinks in how ruined you already are.

“fuckkk,” he mumbles, voice thick with lust. he lets the knife trail up, dragging it over your clit just enough to make you gasp, the cold edge sending waves of agonizing pleasure through you.

you’re fighting the urge to touch yourself, legs trembling with need, but he’s dragging it out, watching you suffer, savoring every filthy, desperate moan that spills from your lips. your cunt clenches again, dripping, aching for more, but all he does is graze the blade over your sensitive skin, keeping you on the edge, waiting for him to finally take what’s his.

without a second thought, geto rips off the ghostface mask, revealing his face in all its sinful glory. his long black hair cascades down his back, a few loose strands framing his face just right, giving him that perfect, messy look. your heart nearly stops at the sight—those silver piercings in his lower lip glint under the lights of the CD store. fuck. your breath catches as you realize just how devastatingly hot he is, a man who could ruin you in every sense of the word.

“f-fuck, mr. ghostface. . .you’re so fucking hot,” you moan, your cunt clenching involuntarily at the sight of him. he smirks, catching your reaction instantly, bringing the blade right back to your dripping cunt, but now it’s different—now you can see every twitch of that gorgeous smirk, every glint in his wicked eyes. nothing is processing in your mind at this point. you’re too far gone, body shaking as he holds all the power over you. he could do anything right now, and you’d let him.

geto leans in, inhaling deeply, letting your scent drive him mad before diving headfirst between your thighs. his lips find your cunt with no warning, devouring you like a fucking beast. his tongue plunges into your soaked hole with reckless abandon, the wet, obscene sounds echoing through the empty store. your back arches violently against the counter, the cold glass windows around the store only barrier between you and the outside world. if anyone walked by and caught sight of this—fuck, you’d be fired in an instant. but the thrill of that thought only makes the heat in your core burn hotter.

your body reacts before your mind can catch up, hands flying to tangle in his thick, soft hair, yanking him closer. he groans deep, the sound vibrating through your clit as you pull his head in tighter. mr. ghostface loves his hair being pulled—check! you think, feeling the way his body reacts to your grip, only making him devour you more ruthlessly.

his nose nudges your clit, adding to the torment as his tongue relentlessly works your insides, the metal ball of his tongue piercing sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. it’s so nasty, so fucking loud as he slurps up your juices, the slick sound echoing around the store. you can’t believe your body is making this much of a mess, slick dripping down your thighs, pooling on the counter beneath you. you’re losing it, completely undone by how he’s devouring you.

geto’s tongue is merciless, and just when you think it can’t get any better, he brings two thick fingers to your entrance, thrusting them in deep. the stretch makes your head spin, his digits spreading you open wide as his tongue continues to work your cunt. he groans low in his throat, the vibrations sending another wave of ecstasy through your core. the sensation of his tongue, his piercing, and his fingers all working together has you seeing stars, your walls clenching around him uncontrollably.

“fuck, look at you,” he growls against your cunt, his voice muffled but still dripping with arrogance as his fingers curl inside you, finding your sweet spot instantly. your eyes roll back, legs shaking uncontrollably as the tension in your belly coils tighter. your grip on his head tightens, forcing him further into you, needing more, more of that perfect, filthy mouth. his lips close around your swollen clit, biting at it just enough to drive you insane, while his fingers pound into you relentlessly.

you catch a glimpse of his face between your thighs, his half-lidded eyes fluttering shut as a moan slips past his pierced lips, his tongue flicking out to lick your slick from the corner of his mouth like he can’t get enough. he’s completely lost in you, ruthlessly making out with your cunt, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. the sight alone nearly pushes you over the edge, your body trembling violently as you feel your orgasm building, heat burning in your stomach, your cunt clenching around his thick fingers.

“listen to how talkative she is,” geto sneers, a wicked smirk stretching across his face. without hesitation, his free hand grabs the store’s telephone, fingers working quickly to connect it to the intercom. before you can process what he’s doing, he presses the microphone right up against your drenched, sloppy cunt.

your eyes go wide in horror as the filthy, wet sloshing of your pussy echoes through the entire store. the slick, obscene sounds of your cunt squelching and dripping around his thick fingers fill the air, amplified by the speakers. every thrust makes it squirt, the embarrassing symphony of your slick coating his fingers making your stomach drop with humiliation. you’re completely exposed, the sound of your body’s desperate reactions bouncing off the store walls, reminding you just how nasty this is.

the wet slaps, the relentless gushing of your cunt, and the squelching noises leave you utterly mortified. It’s so loud, so filthy that if anyone were to walk by, they’d hear everything—and know exactly what a mess you’re making for him. every slick, nasty sound screams your shame, broadcasting to the entire store that you’re getting off to a literal serial killer!

“look at you,” geto chuckles darkly, his voice dripping with arrogance. “so fucking nasty for me. all this for a killer? huh? you like knowing what a filthy slut you are?”

geto throws the telephone, letting it dangle by the cord, before roughly flipping you onto your stomach. your feet barely touch the ground as your chest presses into the counter- bent over, giving you a full view of the empty store. his eyes darken as he takes in your position, biting his lip at the sight of your ass wiggling back, grinding against his hard cock. you can’t help but plead, your voice breathy and desperate.

“please, mr. ghostface, you’ve been sucha tease,” you whine, turning your head to watch him as he toys with his lip piercing, eyes fixed on you like he’s weighing his options. before you can beg again, he makes his choice—sliding his fat, mushroom tip past your dripping entrance. the stretch of his tip slightly burning but- oh it felt so good. your body jerks forward with the slow, agonizing thrust, his thick crownhead teasing innn and outttt of your needy, aching walls. you cry out, wanting—no, needing—more.

desperation overtakes you, and you try to fuck yourself back onto him, but his hand comes down hard, swatting your ass. the sharp sting only makes your pussy clench harder, and you hear him tut in disbelief at how filthy you’ve become for him. “unbelievable how you’re this horny,” he sneers, gripping your hips tighter as if to hold you still.

“if you’re a virgin, just say—ahh,” you taunt- gasping loudly when his fingers wrap around the back of your neck, his grip firm as he pulls you flush against his broad chest. his thick tip remains lodged inside your cunt, teasing you with how little he’s giving, yet how desperately you crave more.

he leans in close, his breath hot on your ear. “i’d love to stay and prove your point,” he purrs, eyes flicking to the front of the store, where the bright blue and red lights of approaching police cars flash in the distance. your mind is too foggy, too consumed with lust to understand what he’s hinting at. “but baby, your little coworker—the one you never bat your pretty lashes at,” he continues, his tone darkening as his grip tightens around your neck, turning your head toward the ‘employee’s only’ door.

that’s when you see it—the large, dark puddle of blood seeping from under the door, your coworker’s lifeless body hidden from view.

“i-i don’t care, i wan’ you,” you plead, tears stinging your eyes as your walls grip his girthy tip, trying to coax more from him. geto chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. he turns your head back toward the front of the store, where the police cars are getting closer. his hand slips away from your neck, leaving you trembling as he cruelly pulls his cock from your addicting cunt, leaving you empty and desperate as he swiftly tucked it back in his pants.

tears spill from your eyes as you feel him slipping away, denying you what you need. “he’s the one that ruined our fun,” geto says, his voice soft but menacing. “and sadly…” his words trail off, and you freeze as you feel the cold tip of a sharp blade pressing against your neck. you gulp hard, heart pounding as the reality of the situation sets in.

“’m really sorry, baby, but i can’t have you snitching to the police, can i?” he whispers, and with a swift motion, the blade slices cleanly across your throat. blood trickles down in a warm line, your breath catching in your chest as your body collapses to the floor. the cold tiles beneath you feel distant as your vision blurs, the last thing you see is geto standing above you, pouting as he watches the life drain from your body.

[coco-loco-nut]

Iconic

pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

summary: you make it your life goal to embarrass Oscar and annoy him, keeping things fun in his life

masterlist

———————————

“He’s so cute,” a girl sighs in the McLaren fan zone.

“He really is,” you smile, leaning against the barrier.

“Oh my god, hi!” the girl gasps, recognizing you from your boyfriend’s Instagram. You haven’t had social media since you were cyber bullied in middle school, so you were a mystery to his fans. It also let you go to fan zone and have fun with them. You also run a fan page for Oscar on Instagram.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind that I am standing here?” you say, holding a folded poster in one of your hand and an arm full of friendship bracelets that Oscar helped you make.

“Not at all, oh my god. Sorry, it’s just that you are so iconic,” the girl says and you quirk your eyebrow.

“How so?”

“You don’t have social media which is iconic, but all the fans know how nice you are, and you are always hanging out with us here,” one of her friends say, you nod along.

“Of course I would be here, I gotta support Papaya boys,” you smile. “Wanna help me embarrass Osc?” you ask the group around you.

“It would legit be our honor,” the one laughs, you laugh with her.

“Here,” you take off some friendship bracelets and exchange them with the girls.

“You are the best WAG,” another girl says and you blush a little, dutifully putting on each bracelet.

“I really do try. I even run a fan account for Osc,” you laugh, not revealing more than that.

“No way, that’s actually icon behavior,” the first girl says and you grin.

“Want to see the sign?” you ask, excited to show your latest sign off. Oscar tried to look but you refused to even work on it until he left the hotel.

“Yes!” you are quick to unfold the sign. Your neat handwriting carefully placed each letter just large enough so Oscar could read it.

“Omg, I can’t wait to see his reaction,” one of the fans say, the area is brimming full now, ready for the drivers to come out in a couple minutes.

“Make sure you get pictures of his reaction, he’s so cute when he’s embarrassed,” you giggle, getting ready to hold the sign in front of you as Lando walk onto the stage, excited to see what you wrote this time. He reads it and laughs, turning towards where Oscar is entering. You watch his brows furrow as he reads it. Oscar- I want to eat you up like a pastry :). The Australian’s face turns bright red as he laughs and winks at you, trying to hide his awkward embarrassment at the pickup line. It wasn’t your best, but it was the perfect amount of cringe. Lando gives you a thumbs up from the stage.

“You were right, his face was priceless,” the fan says as you watch Oscar push back his mousy brown hair before putting the hat back on. You swear you might be drooling while watching him, but you catch his gaze falling on you too.

“I LOVE YOU OSCAR!” you yell as he waves goodbye to the fans, giving you a wink. You make sure all of your friendship bracelets are given away before thanking the fans for being cool about you chilling with them. You head back to the paddock, scanning your pass, and beelining to the McLaren motorhome.

“Y/n, can I have that sign?” Lando asks and you happily hand it over.

“As long as you don’t use it to steal my man, have at it,” you chuckle as the Brit hugs you in thanks before walking away.

“Eat me like a pastry?” Oscar gives you an amused smile. “You do know my parents watch that, right?” His favorite thing about you his your playfulness, you can be serious when needed, but your teasing and jests keep his life fun.

“Oh, I know, your mom helped me with that one, the fans loved it too,” you laugh. “You did look so hot up there,” you slightly exaggerate checking him out.

“Why don’t we go back to my drivers room and you show me how you’d like to eat me?” Oscar whispers in your ear, trying to seduce you, but you resist.

“Oh, I’d probably start with the thighs, best muscle to fat ratio in my opinion. Hm, now I’m kinda hungry, what is in hospitality?” you ask, moving towards the food area. Oscar wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back towards him as he picks you up to carry you to his room.

“Nope, don’t start things you can’t finish,” he says, clearly a little hot and bothered.

“Osc, I’m not a cannibal, I don’t actually eat humans,” you tease, not giving up on what you started. Oscar clearly had a different interpretation, maybe the right one, maybe not.

“Shut up before I make you shut up,” Oscar growls in your ear, quickly turning you on and making you drop the joke.

“Yes, Mister Piastri,” you say, knowing it’s affect on him as he drags you into his room, locking the door behind him. Oscar was a couple minutes late to his meeting, Lando holding back giggles as Oscar walks into the room.

“I see the fans aren’t the only ones who love Y/n,” Lando whispers to Oscar, who shoots him a glare. Meanwhile, you scroll Instagram using your fan page, laughing as some of them post the pic of you and the sign, the comments calling on your to reveal yourself via the fan page. You make a post about it as well just to blend in, thirsting over Oscar as well. You can’t imagine if he ever finds out about the account.

“Good luck, Osc. Drive safe,” you kiss him before he puts his helmet on.

“I am always safe,” he gives you his usual awkward smile, you smile back as he puts his helmet on. He squeezes your hand before walking over to the car. You take a seat in the garage, the headphones unflattering as always.

Your stomach drops as there is a crash late in the race, but you are instantly relieved when you realize that Oscar made in through and no one was hurt. He ends up in P2 for the race and you join the team in celebrating at the podium.

“Thank you for being my number one fan, even when you run a secret fan account,” Oscar hugs you in his drivers room.

“How? What?” you play if off but he just laughs, pulling out his phone.

“My private account follows you,” oscar laughs, and you just stare at him.

“That’s actually you? I thought it was a fan,” you quickly pull out your phone and request to follow his account, which he immediately accepts so that you can see all the cute posts he makes about you.

“Stop, Osc, you’re basically running a fan account for me,” you say, admiring his posts, including one from today of you holding the sign. You quickly type a comment that has the other drivers replying like crazy claiming that they found your secret account.

“You two decent?” Mark Weber’s voice says through the door, after a confirmation from Oscar, he lets himself in.

“Why wouldn’t we be decent, Mark?” you ask from the couch.

“I used to be a driver too, and after your fan zone sign nothing is off the table,” Mark shrugs causing you and Oscar to blush. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you great race, I will see you in a few days,” Mark tells Oscar before leaving the room again. You still aren’t sure how Oscar was able to bag the former F1 driver as his manager. Oscar yawns and you notice how tired he is, sleepy Oscar is your favorite version of Oscar.

“Alright, let’s get you back to the hotel, first loser,” you tease, helping him gather his things to leave.

“Hey,” he groans at the jab.

“You could be Lando NoWins, my love,” turning your jests onto his teammate.

“That is true,” Oscar yawns, holding your hand as he leads you to his chauffeured car.

“Osc, would you marry me if I was a worm?”

“Who said I’d marry you at all?”

“Alright, that’s it, I’m deleting your fan page,” you pull out your phone. Oscar basically tackles you in the back seat as he lunges for the phone.

“I take it back, I’ll marry you right now if you want,” Oscar pleads.

“Who said I wanted to marry you? Do I look like a worm?” you retort, putting your phone away. Oscar just sighs in defeat.

“God gives is strongest people his greatest challenges, I’m not strong enough for this,” he groans a few seconds later, the tiredness setting in.

“Sorry, baby, I promise you will get unlimited cuddles when we get back to the room,” you smile softly, holding his hand tight.

“I love you,” he whispers, his beautiful brown eyes gazing into your eyes.

“I love you too.”

[jetii]

The Safe House

Pairing: Hunter x fem!Reader / Hunter x Medic!Reader

Words: 12,466

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, friends/squadmates to lovers, idiots to lovers actually, mutual pining, some very minor wound care, consent is sexy and so is communication, smut, oral (m and f receiving), coming untouched, dirty talk, scent kink maybe

Summary: After a mission goes sideways, you and Hunter are left stranded for the night. Lucky for you, you know of a safe house nearby. Unlucky for you, there's only one bed.

A/N: I can't even pretend to feel shame about this. Hunter loves to eat and that's it, that's the fic.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

“Well, shit.”

Your hand falls from the doorknob, staring into the cabin with a look of horror on your face. It’s smaller than you remembered. A kitchenette, a fireplace, a dusty armchair, and a single bed. The walls are wood-paneled, a few worn posters hanging on them. The door to the bathroom is open, and you can see the shower stall, but not much else. 

When you and Hunter were left stranded on this planet, you hadn’t worried. There was a safe house here, after all, one from your days before you became the squad’s medic. Hunter was in no shape to help you out, and with the Marauder making an emergency landing on the other side of the planet… well, it was safer to split up. This safe house had been the closest one, so you did the smart thing. You went there.

Except, this is not the safe house you remembered.

You remember it being big. Not huge, but certainly large enough for a couple people to crash in until rescue came. Certainly not a tiny, one room shack with one bed. You don't even know if that bed is big enough for both you and Hunter.

Hunter props his arm up on the doorframe, peering in over your shoulder, but he doesn't have much to add to your statement. He looks into the room, then back down at you. He doesn’t say anything, which only makes the situation more uncomfortable. You know you have to go in, but…

You don’t move, even though Hunter is standing behind you, blocking your way out. The two of you have been out here for several minutes now in the cold, just staring at the one tiny bed inside the cabin. There was no couch, or cot, or anything else. Just the single bed. Your mind was already racing with possibilities, most of them not so great.

Your cheeks are starting to hurt from clenching your jaw, and you finally break the silence.

"We're adults,” you state, firmly.

"We are,” Hunter says. He sounds uncertain, so you turn around to look at him.

"And we're both capable of sharing a bed. There's plenty of room,” you continue, nodding, as if confirming your words to yourself.

Hunter nods along, too, but the two of you just stand there, unmoving.

Finally, Hunter speaks up. "You... want to go in, or...?"

He lets his words trail off, and you know what he's getting at. You're the one holding us up.

"I'm going, I'm going!" you snap as you look back into the cabin, but you're still not moving.

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

"Because you haven't actually gone inside yet."

You whirl around and glare up at Hunter, but you can't find the words to respond, and your face is flushed. It's the cold, you tell yourself, refusing to admit that you're blushing. It's not the situation you're in, and it's not the idea of having to share a bed with Hunter, of all people.

It's the cold.

He smiles, and you almost slap him, but his words stop you.

"I don't mind sharing a bed with you."

It's an honest admission, and the sincerity in his words takes you off guard.

"Really?" you ask, unable to hide the surprise in your voice.

"Really." 

Hunter's eyes meet yours and you're suddenly very aware of how close the two of you are standing. His breath ghosts across your cheeks, a cloud of mist from the cold. You feel warmth bloom in your chest. 

"If you're okay with it,” he adds. He's watching you closely now, waiting to see what your reaction is. He's giving you an out, and you're grateful for it. But the way his eyes are locked onto yours, the way his lips are pulled into a half smile, the way he seems to be holding his breath...

You shake your head, breaking the moment.

"Yeah. Yes. I'm fine. Let's go in," you blurt out, and step inside, leaving Hunter to shut the door behind the two of you.

Once inside, you kick off your boots and set your bag down. You glance around, taking in the familiar room. The fireplace, the bed, the old armchair. Everything was just as you remembered it. Mostly.

You turn back to look at Hunter. He’s checking the firewood box, and he gives you a thumbs up, confirming there was enough to last the night. You let out a breath and smile at him, and he smiles back.

Then he turns to the bed.

And you're reminded of the situation you're in.

“You should sit down,” you say, gesturing towards the bed. “I need to take a look at that gash on your head."

He nods and does as he's told, sitting on the edge of the bed, and you sit beside him, careful to keep some distance between the two of you.

You take his chin in your hand and turn his head, getting a better look at the cut above his eye. It’s not that bad, thankfully. Bacta should heal it, and he wouldn't need any stitches, but the blood has dried and crusted around the wound. It's not going to be fun to clean.

“I should have done this earlier,” you mutter to yourself, your eyes scanning his face. You tilt his head from side to side, looking for any other signs of damage, but the rest of his face is free of cuts and bruises. Just a bit dirty, but nothing a little water won’t fix.

"It's fine," Hunter says quietly. There's no irritation in his voice, no indication that he's bothered by you fussing over him. In fact, he seems content to sit still while you finish examining him. He's not squirming away or trying to talk you out of doing this. If anything, he seems at ease.

 "I think you had more important things to do. Like keeping me conscious,” he continues. You pause and look down at him, and his dark eyes are fixed on you. You can't read his expression, but the corner of his mouth is curled up in a soft smile. It's an encouraging look, and you take a breath before continuing.

"I still shouldn't have forgotten.” You let go of him and stand to pull out an alcohol wipe from your bag. “I can't believe I didn't think about that, we've been walking for so long... Why didn't you tell me? Were you trying to be cool and pretend it didn't hurt or something?”

He scoffs and shakes his head. "Yeah. Something like that."

"Hunter," you chastise as you move to stand in front of him. His legs widen on instinct, making room for you between them, and you step closer until your thighs are nearly brushing his. "Don't be a martyr. It's not going to help anyone."

"Okay, okay," he holds his hands up, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "You got me. I wanted to show off for you."

"You already showed off,” you say, but you're smiling too. “You nearly concussed yourself in the process, so you've done enough impressing for the day."

You're not sure why you're being so playful with him, especially given the circumstances. You've never had a problem joking around with him before, but now, alone in this tiny cabin, it feels different. There's an undercurrent of something, and you're not sure what it is.

He doesn't respond to you, but he's still smiling. He tilts his head back a bit, giving you better access to the wound, and you take the hint. You rip open the wipe, and gently brush his hair away from the cut, and the smile fades. When you lean in closer to him, inspecting the wound, his hand brushes your hip. It's an innocent touch, the barest of contact before he pulls away, and you're sure it's an accident, but it still makes your breath hitch.

"Is it bad?" he asks, his voice quieter than it was a few seconds ago.

"No, no. It's just a cut. I think the swelling is starting to go down,” you say, your hand still in his hair. Your fingers are combing through his locks, smoothing the messy strands away from his forehead that his bandana normally keeps in place. Your thumb traces the curve of his temple, and he leans into your touch. It's an intimate gesture, but it feels right, and when you look down at him, his eyes are closed.

"That's good," he murmurs. His breath ghosts over your skin, the heat of it making goosebumps erupt along your arm.

"I'm gonna clean it, okay?"

Hunter nods, and the movement jostles you. His face is dangerously close to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and the tip of his nose touches your skin. The urge to shiver is strong, but you ignore it. This isn't the time or the place to be thinking about things like this. You have a job to do, and Hunter needs your help.

"Hold still," you say, and he hums an affirmative. You take a deep breath and focus on the task at hand. “This will sting.”

"I've had worse,” he says, but the breathlessness of his voice has you questioning his words.

"Yeah, yeah." 

You're careful with him as you clean the wound, gently swiping the cloth over his skin. Hunter’s nose scrunches up, and his eyes squeeze shut, and you can't help the smile that appears on your face. It’s cute, but you keep that thought to yourself.

"You're doing great."

He chuckles. "Thanks."

You work in silence for a few minutes. You can feel his eyes on you as you work, but he doesn't say anything, and neither do you. You're too focused on your task, but your mind keeps wandering back to how close you are, closer than you've ever been. 

You're hyper aware of every little thing. The way the cold air of the cabin is starting to warm up from the fire, the way the bed creaks every time you shift your weight. How Hunter is watching your every move, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress, and your body is leaning into his.

The closeness is unfamiliar and overwhelming, and it makes you want to squirm. Or maybe run.

But instead, you stand stock still, and try not to think about the warmth emanating from him. He's so much bigger than you, his whole body a solid, firm wall against you, and it's a comforting feeling. He's safe. It's okay to lean into him, you reason. It's okay. It's fine. It's normal.

You're doing a favor for a friend. A friend who used to be your commanding officer, but now he's not really that anymore, and things are changing between the two of you. Your feelings, especially, are changing. You're not sure when it happened, or how it did, but they're changing.

You pull away abruptly and toss the used wipe into the trash, turning away from him.

“That should be fine," you say, and your voice is higher than it was before. You clear your throat, and grab the bacta spray.

"Thanks," he says, and you turn back to face him, avoiding his eyes. You can feel the heat rise to your face, and you clear your throat, focusing on the cut above his eye. You take out the bacta spray and pump the nozzle a few times, the familiar hissing noise filling the air.

"Alright, this'll just take a minute. Let me know if it's too cold."

"It's fine."

You nearly roll your eyes. Of course it's fine. It's Hunter. Nothing ever bothers him. He's perfect.

You can’t remember a single time where he’s ever complained about something, so you believe him. You don’t expect him to react any differently now. 

You certainly don’t expect him to gasp the moment the spray hits his skin, his hands finding your hips and holding onto you. He’s tense, fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes. He's not pushing you away, though, and his hands stay where they are, his thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

"You good?" You stop spraying, and move to pull away, but he shakes his head.

"I'm alright. Keep going."

You swallow and do as he asks. He keeps his grip on your hips, loosening his hold every now and then, but the pain doesn't seem to bother him as much. After a minute, the bacta has sealed the cut, leaving behind a small pink scar. You put the spray away, and run your thumb along the mark, the skin smooth beneath your touch.

Hunter sighs, the sound low and content, his eyes fluttering closed. He leans into your hand, and you can't help the warmth that blooms in your chest.

"Better?" you ask, your voice soft.

"Yeah."

You continue to stroke his skin, and his grip tightens. You're not sure what to do next. Do you pull away? Do you ask him to move his hands? Do you stay here and enjoy this moment for as long as you can? 

Hunter’s eyes are still closed, and his head tilts toward your palm. Your heart is pounding, and you’re positive that he can hear it. He probably thinks you're an idiot. Here he is, injured, and you're practically swooning over him.

You should pull away. You should get up. You should make the distance between the two of you a little wider. But you're still standing in front of him, one hand on his face, the other resting on his shoulder. His are still holding onto your hips, and he hasn't moved them.

Hunter opens his eyes, and you’re struck by how dark they are, how they catch the light of the fire and glow amber. The shadows dance along his jawline, emphasizing the darkness of his tattoo. His lips are slightly parted, his gaze locked onto yours, and the tension is palpable. You don’t dare move. Not an inch. You wait for him to say something, anything.

He opens his mouth, and then closes it again. His brows furrow together, and his lips pull into a thin line.

The moment is shattered when the wind picks up outside, rattling the window.

You pull your hands away, and Hunter lets go of you so fast it’s as if you burned him. He clears his throat and stands, walking past you to check the window, and you watch him go. You take a deep breath and will yourself not to blush, turning away from him to pack up the rest of the med kit.

"I should, uh. I should probably get cleaned up,” Hunter says from across the room.

"Oh. Yeah, of course."

You busy yourself with the contents of your bag to avoid looking in his direction, and he disappears into the bathroom, the door shutting behind him.

You let out a shaky breath, and run a hand over your face. What the hell was that? You were being so ridiculous. Hunter was your friend, and nothing more. The fact that you were both alone together was making you act strangely, and you knew it.

He's probably uncomfortable. He's probably in there trying to figure out a way to politely tell you that you're acting weird and he's not interested in you like that. He's just being nice. That's all it is.

The thought makes you nauseous, and you try to push it out of your mind as you strip off your armor and pants, and then the suit you wear underneath. You're left in only your sports bra and compression shorts, and you shiver. It was freezing, and you weren't looking forward to sleeping without proper pajamas, or even a shirt.

There's not much you can do it about it now, though. It wasn't like you had packed your bag for an overnight stay. You were much more concerned about having the necessary supplies to keep the boys and Omega alive than having a change of clothes. You're kicking yourself for it now, though.

You rifle through your bag to find your toiletries and brush your teeth at the kitchen sink. You don't think about Hunter, or how good he smelled, or how warm his hands were, or the feeling of his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, or—

Stop it.

You splash some water onto your face and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart.

After a few minutes, you've managed to get yourself under control. You grab the blankets and pillow, and you spread them out over the bed. The sheets are worn and old but clean, and the blankets are thick, and you hope they'll be enough to keep the two of you warm. Hunter runs as hot as a furnace, anyway. You'll be fine.

You've finished laying out the blankets when the bathroom door opens. Hunter steps out, a cloud of steam following him, and he stops immediately, eyes wide. He's wearing the bottom half of his blacks, but his torso is bare, a towel slung over his shoulders. Water drips from his hair, and the few droplets the towel doesn’t catch run down his neck and chest, disappearing into the waistband of his blacks.

You force yourself to look away, and you're suddenly very interested in the blanket. You pick at a loose thread while your heart thuds loudly in your chest. He doesn't say anything. Neither do you. 

When you glance up, his eyes are still fixed on you, and then he blinks, seemingly snapping out of whatever thoughts were running through his head. Hunter gives you a small smile, the corner of his mouth lifting up, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks almost... sad. But the look disappears just as quickly as it came.

"Bathroom's free," he says, and there's a strain in his voice, as if he's trying to sound casual, and failing.

You nod. “Thanks.”

He walks over to the fire and adds a few logs, stoking the flames. They crackle and spit, and the smokey smell fills the cabin. You take the opportunity to duck into the bathroom as quick as possible and shut the door behind you. You lock it for good measure and lean against the wall, taking a few deep breaths.

Your eyes fall shut, and you try to center yourself. You're exhausted. This entire mission has been a disaster, both of you are barely dressed, and the two of you are sharing a bed. You just want to sleep, but your nerves are shot.

You strip out of your clothes and take a quick shower, letting the hot water relax your muscles. It does the job, but the feeling is short-lived, and the second you turn the water off, the stress returns.

You dry yourself off, and slip on the same shorts and bra you'd been wearing. There's not much else you can do, and you're too tired to care about it anymore. You're just going to have to suck it up and deal with it. It's one night. It's not the end of the world.

The mirror is fogged over, so you swipe your hand across the glass, revealing your reflection. You're not thrilled with the person looking back at you, and you scowl at your face. A few bruises and scrapes decorate your skin, and a thin, red line sits just below your ribs. You can't remember getting it, but it's nothing serious.

You comb through your wet hair, and after a few minutes, it's as good as it's going to get.

"Alright," you mutter, nodding to yourself with a sigh. "You can do this."

You open the door and walk into the bedroom. Hunter is sitting on the edge of the bed, his bandana in his hands. His hair is still drying, curling around his ears and the nape of his neck, and he hasn't put his shirt back on. He looks up at you and offers a weak smile, his fingers running along the faded material.

You return the smile, but it's not genuine. Your stomach is in knots, and your heart is racing, and the butterflies are back. You can't remember the last time you were this nervous.

You stand awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure what to do or say. You're both clearly not okay with this, and you hate it. You hate the tension that's settled over the two of you, the discomfort, the uncertainty. You should say something.

Hunter seems to come to the same conclusion, because he clears his throat and speaks up.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice low. He's studying you carefully, and you know he can hear the way your heartbeat has sped up at the question. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm fine," you answer a little too quickly. At his raised brow, you sigh. "I'm just... This is really weird, isn't it?”

"A bit," he admits, and the two of you chuckle awkwardly. He shifts his weight and looks down, his shoulders tense. “I can take the chair, if that would make you more comfortable."

You shake your head. "No, no, it's not that. It's just..." You trail off, unsure of what to say. You're embarrassed by the way your body is reacting, how it seems like the tiniest thing has you worked up, and Hunter doesn't need to know that.

"I can't ask you to do that. I'll take the chair."

Hunter stares at you, and his brows knit together. Your face flushes, and you look away, unable to meet his gaze.

"You’re not sleeping on the chair," he says firmly. He's using his sergeant voice, and his tone leaves no room for argument.

You frown. “Is that an order?”

He shakes his head, and his face falls. The stern look in his eyes softens, and he looks almost hurt. "Of course not. I just... I want to make sure you're comfortable.”

You're not sure how to respond. He's always been protective of you, just as he’s always been protective of everyone on the squad, and it makes sense that he'd be worried about your well-being. But this feels different.

He's still frowning, and you know he's upset with himself, as if he's done something wrong. It's a far cry from the way he'd teased you outside the cabin earlier, and his mood shift throws you for a loop. You don’t know what's happening, but the thought of upsetting him, or disappointing him, is not something you're willing to deal with.

You take a breath and force yourself to look him in the eye, and you take a guess. "Hunter, I'm not... I'm not scared of you, if that's what you're thinking."

The way his body sags at your words confirms your suspicions. "You’re not?"

"Of course not," you say, shaking your head. "I trust you. Completely. But... I'm still nervous, and I'm not sure why, and I'm sorry, I—"

"Hey," Hunter interrupts, and he stands. He closes the distance between the two of you in a single stride, and you have to tilt your head back to look up at him. His face is serious, and you hold your breath as he places his hands on your shoulders. "It's okay."

"It is?" you ask, surprised by the gentleness in his voice.

He nods, his expression softening. "Yeah."

"I don't want things to be awkward between us, but I'm... I'm having a hard time being normal,” you confess. Your mouth twists into a grimace, and you huff, shaking your head. "This is dumb. I'm sorry. It's just a stupid bed. We can share it, it's not a big deal.”

Hunter sighs, and the sound makes you flinch. You've disappointed him. Of course you have. He's probably mad at you for being so dramatic. For making a big deal out of nothing. Why couldn't you just suck it up and get over it?

"This is my fault," he says, and his words are so quiet, you're not sure you heard him correctly. You tilt your head, and he looks away, dropping his hands from your shoulders.

"What?"

"It's my fault."

He takes a step back, putting some distance between the two of you, and you want nothing more than to reach out and close the gap again. You stay where you are, though, watching him.

"Hunter, I already told you, it's not that I'm scared, I'm just—"

"Not the bed thing." He shifts awkwardly and avoids looking at you, instead staring out the window. "Well, not entirely.”

You don't understand. "Then what is it?"

He's silent for a few moments, and the only sound is the wind outside. The fire has started to die down, the embers glowing brightly in the dim room. You can see his hands clench and unclench at his sides, and his jaw is set, as if he's trying to work something out.

He's nervous. It's such a strange sight, and one you've never seen on him before. Hunter doesn't get nervous. Hunter doesn't avoid people. Hunter is cool and calm and collected.

You've never seen him like this before, and you can’t stop yourself from trying to comfort him. You take a step forward and place a hand on his arm, and he stills. His eyes dart over to your face, and you can feel his gaze linger on the spot where your hand is touching his bare skin.

"Hunter," you say, softly, trying not to spook him. "Please. Tell me."

He sighs. "It's a lot. Are you sure you want to know?"

"Of course I do," you answer, and you take a step closer to him. You're standing toe to toe, and your free hand finds his other arm, so you're holding onto him.

You have no idea what's gotten into you, and the boldness of your actions should have you running for the hills, but there's something about the way his dark eyes are looking at you that makes you feel safe. It's the same feeling you get when he's in charge of a mission, or when he's fighting at your side. He's protecting you, and you have no reason to doubt him.

"Whatever it is, I want to know."

Hunter sighs again, and his eyes drop from yours. He's hesitating, and you can't help but wonder what could be bothering him. He's been acting strange ever since the two of you crashed on this planet, but now that you think about it, it started long before that. Ever since Saleucami, maybe. Maybe even earlier.

But then his gaze finds yours again, and he looks so vulnerable, your thoughts scatter.

"It's not... I shouldn't. Not while we're stranded like this, it's not fair to you. I don't want you to feel like you have to deal with this on top of everything else. If it was a different time, a different place, then maybe, but—"

You squeeze his arms, and he stops talking. "Hunter."

His breath catches in his throat, and you can see the way his throat bobs as he swallows, the way his brows knit together. His eyes are dark, and there's a tension in the air, one that has been building since the moment you entered the cabin.

"Tell me," you say, and your words are barely a whisper.

"I should have told you a long time ago. But I never had the chance, and it's not fair of me to tell you now, when things are complicated, but..."

"But what?"

"But I care about you."

"Hunter," you start, your grip tightening on his arms, "of course I know you care about me, you've always looked out for me —"

"No, no," he says, shaking his head. "I mean, I do care about you. A lot. But that's not what I meant."

He pauses, and his hands slide up to your wrists, and he gently removes your hands from his arms. You think he's going to push you away, but he doesn't. He holds onto you, his fingers wrapping around your forearms.

"Hunter?"

"I've... I've had feelings for you. For a while."

Your mouth goes dry, and all the air rushes out of your lungs. He's holding onto you as if he's afraid you'll run away, and in all honesty, it's a very real possibility.

"What?"

"I'm sorry." He says it like a confession, his voice hoarse and pained, and it makes your heart ache.

You shake your head. "You don't need to be sorry. I'm just... I'm confused."

"I was trying to keep them in check, but it's hard when we're together, and I can't seem to stop myself,” he says. “I didn't want to make things awkward for you, so I was trying to keep some distance. It was working, but then this whole mess happened, and I'm not sure how to keep doing this."

"Oh," is all you manage to say, and it's barely a whisper.

Hunter drops your hands and turns away, running a hand over his face. You can tell he's embarrassed, and the sight breaks your heart. You've never seen him so upset before, and it's killing you.

"It's not a big deal, I'll get over it, but it's been... difficult."

You're at a loss for words, but you know what he's talking about. It's been hard on you, too. You've wanted to reach out to him, to close the distance, but you've always held yourself back.

"Hunter."

He doesn't turn, so you step closer, and he freezes. You don't touch him, though, not yet.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He doesn't answer at first, and you're not sure he's going to. He takes a shaky breath, and turns his head, but he doesn't look at you.

"I didn't think you felt the same way,” he says. “You’ve never shown any interest, and I didn't want to force something onto you that you didn't want. I just thought I'd make it easier for you. Make the rejection less painful."

Your mouth drops open. "I haven't — what?"

"But now," he continues, ignoring your interruption. "I'm not sure I can keep going. It's been hell, and I know it's selfish, and I'm sorry."

"Wait," you say, and he finally looks at you. You can see the hurt in his eyes, the pain that's been building for who knows how long, and it shatters you. "You've really thought I didn't want you? This whole time?"

"I... Yeah?"

"Hunter," you breathe.

"It's not important."

"Yes, it is."

"You don't need to lie to make me feel better,” he says. "I know how things are."

"Hunter, I've been acting weird because I was worried that you would be able to hear my heartbeat, or sense how nervous I am, or smell the way my body reacts when I'm near you," you say in a rush. "That's why I was freaking out."

He frowns. "Because you don't like me?"

"No, because I do!"

The two of you stare at each other, neither saying a word. The fire crackles loudly in the silence between you, and you can feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You can't believe you've said it out loud, but it feels right, and when Hunter's lips part in surprise, you know you can't take it back.

"You do?"

You stare back in utter disbelief. How could he not know?

"Of course I do," you say. "I thought you knew."

He shakes his head, and takes another step forward.

"I didn't... I thought... You were keeping your distance, and I just assumed..." Hunter trails off, staring at you in bewilderment. He takes a step closer, and you tilt your head back, looking up at him. His eyes are wide, and his gaze roams over your face, as if he's seeing you for the first time. "Really?"

Your lips twitch, and you’re unable to stop the laugh that escapes you. You’re not sure if it’s the absurdity of the situation, or the shock of learning that Hunter had feelings for you, too, or if it was simply the tension that had been building since the moment the two of you had walked into the cabin, but the next thing you know, you're doubled over, laughing harder than you had in months. Your sides hurt and your vision is blurry and you can't catch your breath, and a minute later, Hunter joins in.

"I'm sorry," you gasp, wiping a tear from your eye. "I'm not laughing at you, I promise. It's just... it's kind of funny, isn't it?"

"A bit," he says, his chest shaking with laughter. His shoulders relax, and his face is split into a grin, and he looks so happy, your heart feels like it's going to burst.

“We really need to work on our communication skills," you say, and Hunter snorts.

"I think we'll be alright,” he says with a shrug. “We'll figure it out."

"Yeah," you agree. "I think so, too."

He's still smiling, and it’s infectious. The butterflies in your stomach have come alive, and your body is tingling, but for once, you don't worry about how he might be reacting to your nerves. There's nothing to hide. Nothing to be nervous about. Hunter likes you, too. He's liked you this whole time, and the thought makes your head spin.

"We should probably go to bed," you say, and it comes out a little breathless. You're still staring at him, and he's staring back. His smile falls, but he doesn't look away.

"Probably," he agrees.

The two of you stand there, staring at each other.

"It's been a long day," he adds, and you nod.

"Yeah."

Hunter’s gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes. His chest rises and falls, and you can see the muscles shift under his skin. He licks his lips, and swallows, his throat bobbing.

"Right," you say and take a step closer to him.

"Yeah," Hunter echoes, his voice soft. His hands find your waist, and the feeling of his calloused palms against your skin makes you shiver.

"Do you... Do you want to share the bed?" you ask, your hands finding their way up to his chest. He's so close, you can feel the warmth emanating from him, and your body leans into him, your chest flush against his.

"If you're okay with it," he murmurs.

"I'm okay with it," you whisper, and the words hang between you, heavy with intent.

You're not sure who moves first, but one second, Hunter is holding onto you, his hands tightening around your waist, and the next, his lips are pressed against yours, and the kiss steals the breath from your lungs.

You're not surprised at the hunger in his movements, but it still makes your head spin. His mouth is hot and eager, and he kisses you as if his life depends on it. Your fingers curl around the hair at the nape of his neck, and his arms wrap around your back, pulling you closer. The hard planes of his body press against yours, and you can't help the whimper that leaves you when his hands slide down to the curve of your ass. He squeezes, and you pull away, gasping.

“Too much?” he asks, and the way his voice rasps in your ear makes a shudder run through you.

"Not enough," you breathe, and the way his hands grip your hips tightly tells you he feels the same.

He kisses you again, and the passion between you has ignited into a desperate, frantic heat. He bites down on your bottom lip, and when you groan, his tongue darts out, slipping past your lips. The way he explores your mouth, his tongue curling around yours, makes your knees weak, and you're grateful for the solid wall of his chest, keeping you upright.

Hunter tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you melt into him. Your hands trail along his jawline, the rough stubble scratching your skin, and you sigh. He kisses you hungrily, and you try to give him as much as you can, hoping he knows how much you care about him, how much you've wanted this, and for how long.

You don't know how much time has passed, but the two of you are still kissing, and your legs are starting to grow tired. Hunter seems to sense this, and his hands slide down to your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin. He lifts you up, and you gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"That's better," he murmurs into your neck, and your fingers tangle into his hair as he starts kissing along your jaw. His lips find your throat, and he sucks the skin into his mouth, biting down softly.

"Hunter," you whimper, your head falling back. He nips at your neck, and your body rolls against him. Your core brushes against the firmness of his abdomen, and you gasp.

"Shit," he breathes.

"Sorry," you say, your face burning with embarrassment.

"Don't apologize," he growls. His fingers dig into your thighs, and he sounds as if the sound alone was enough to unravel him. You shiver at the thought. "I just... Fuck. I wasn't expecting you to react like that."

"You're a little distracting," you admit, and the grin on his face makes your stomach flip.

"Am I?"

"Don't act like you don't know," you scold him, tugging his hair, and he groans. His eyes darken, and the noise that escapes him goes straight to your core. You swallow, trying to regain some composure, but it's impossible. It’s even harder when he turns and walks over to the bed, laying you down on the mattress, his body hovering above yours.

"I'm glad it's not just me," he says. His hair falls into his eyes, and you brush it aside, letting your hand rest on his cheek.

“Definitely not just you," you whisper, and the way his eyes light up is worth the confession.

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

He captures your lips again, and you hum again in appreciation. His hands move over the curves of your body, his fingers sliding over your hips, his palms gripping the flesh of your thighs. His touch is searing, and the heat of it makes your skin tingle.

Your own hands explore his chest, the muscle rippling under your touch, his skin soft and warm. You drag your nails down his abdomen, and his body rolls into yours, his hardness pressing into the apex of your thighs. Your back arches, and the groan that escapes him makes your blood boil. You need more, need him to touch you, need him to keep kissing you, and you try to tell him as much. But every time you try to speak, his lips are there, swallowing your words.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbles, his words slurring together, and it's not the most coherent thing you've ever heard, but the compliment makes your heart flutter, anyway. You kiss him harder, and he grunts in appreciation, his hands gripping your thighs.

You're not sure how much time passes, and the two of you are only spurred on by the noises the other makes. When you nip at his neck, he growls. When he squeezes your hips, you moan. He's driving you mad, and it's obvious that he's having the same problem.

You're panting, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and Hunter breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. He's breathing just as hard as you are, and he's shaking slightly, his eyes screwed shut. You place a hand on his shoulder, and his muscles tense under your touch.

"Are you okay?"

"Just give me a second," he says, and his voice is strained.

"What's wrong?"

He doesn't answer at first, and the silence stretches between the two of you.

"Hunter?"

"It's just... Fuck, I've been waiting for this for a while," he admits, and you can't stop the giggle that escapes you. He lifts his head and stares down at you, his eyes narrowing. "You're laughing?"

"I'm not laughing at you," you assure him, and he lets you pull his head back down. You kiss his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose, and then his lips, and his mouth opens for you, his tongue swirling with yours. "It's just... I didn't know you wanted this."

"How could I not want this?" he asks. His mouth drops down to your neck, and his teeth scrape over the soft skin, his tongue licking a line up to your jaw. "You're incredible."

"You're incredible," you counter, and you can feel his grin against your neck.

"No, I'm serious," he says, and he stops kissing you. He lifts his head, and you frown. "You're beautiful, and smart, and kind, and you make me feel so many things. How could I not want this? I'd be stupid not to want you."

You swallow, and the emotions that wash over you threaten to overwhelm you. Hunter is looking at you with such affection, it's as if the feeling itself is enough to shatter him. He's never been very good with words, but his actions always spoke louder than any speech he could ever make.

"Hunter, I—"

"I'm sorry," he says. "I know I should have said something sooner. I'm not sure what I was thinking, honestly. I was worried about how it would affect the team. But now... Now that I've said it, and now that we're stranded here, and now that we've done this, and I've gotten a taste of you..."

"What do you mean?"

"I won't be able to go back."

Your stomach flutters.

"You want to be with me?" you ask. Your words are tentative, and your tone is careful, but there's a spark of hope, deep inside your heart, one that has been building ever since you first met Hunter. One that has been there for months, and maybe even longer.

"I do," he says. "And if we were anywhere else, I'd take you out for dinner or whatever the hell else you'd want. We could take our time, go as slow as you need, I don't care, but—“

"Hunter, yes. I want this."

He pauses.

"Yes?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

"You don't have to say that just because we're stranded. If you don't want to, it's okay."

"Hunter, please," you plead. "I've wanted this for so long, I can't... Please."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," you say, nodding vigorously. Your legs tighten around his waist, and his hands slide up to your ribs, his thumbs rubbing circles along the underside of your breasts. You bite your lip and look up at him. "I want this. I want you."

Hunter lets out a shaky breath. "Thank the maker."

You giggle, and his eyes fall to your mouth. He kisses you again, his tongue pushing past your lips, and you lose yourself in him.

Your fingers comb through his hair, and his body presses down on top of yours. It's different than before. The passion is still there, the hunger and desperation are still present, but there's a tenderness behind his actions, one that wasn't there earlier. His lips are soft and gentle, and his hands roam over your body with a reverence you weren't expecting. You can feel the love in his touch, the affection he has for you, and it's enough to make your chest tighten.

The two of you trade languid kisses, his lips dragging against yours. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, and his weight is heavy on top of you, but it's a comfort. He's surrounding you, his body flush against yours, and your hearts are beating in sync. His length is pressed against you, his hips slowly rocking against your center, and each movement is sending a rush of heat through your core.

You can feel how wet you are, and you know Hunter can smell your arousal. It should be embarrassing, but when he growls against your mouth, you know that's not the case. You roll your hips into him, and his fingers dig into your sides. He's holding himself back, trying not to scare you, and the thought alone makes your heart swell.

"Hunter, please," you beg.

"What do you want?"

"Touch me."

His lips find your neck, and he presses a soft kiss there.

"How?"

"Just —" You groan when his hips roll into yours. "Anywhere. Everywhere."

He chuckles, and his breath is hot against your skin. "Where do you want me to touch you?"

You know what he's doing, and the realization makes you smile. He wants to hear you say it.

"You're mean," you mumble, and Hunter snorts. He bites the sensitive spot where your shoulder meets your neck, and your back arches, pushing your chest into his.

"I'm trying to be nice," he says, his voice rough, and he sucks the skin into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the area.

"Fuck, Hunter," you gasp, your nails scraping over his scalp. He groans, and his hands trail down your body, his fingers dipping under the waistband of your shorts.

"Tell me what you want," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your mind is racing, trying to come up with something, anything, but Hunter is relentless. His lips drag over your skin, and his tongue licks a stripe up your neck, and you can't think, not when his mouth is on you like this.

"Your hands," you breathe, and his fingers inch closer to your center. "Please, Hunter."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Fuck, yes."

"You want me to use my hands, mesh’la?"

"Please."

He doesn't need to be told twice.

Hunter sits up, pulling his hips away from yours. You whine in protest, but he's not gone long, because his fingers are slipping under the waistband of your shorts, and he's sliding them off along with your underwear.

You raise your hips to help him, and once they're gone, his hands find your bra. It takes some effort from the both of you to slide it up over your head, and you're not sure where it ends up, but you can't bring yourself to care. Not when he’s looking at you like that.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his eyes roaming over your naked form. His voice is low, and the way he's staring at you makes a shudder run through you. You feel exposed, and you should feel self-conscious, but the awe in his expression makes it impossible. He's gazing at you with an openness and admiration you've never seen before, and it's making it difficult to breathe.

"You're wearing too much," you say, your tone soft.

"Can't argue with that," he replies, and he leans back. He stands, and you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching as he pulls his blacks down and off. You stare at him, unable to tear your eyes away.

He's beautiful. His broad shoulders are well defined, and his chest is solid and strong, the muscle rippling under his skin. There's a scattering of hair along his torso, and a trail that starts at his navel, and disappears beneath the waistband of his briefs. You’ve seen him without a shirt before, and it was hard enough then. But now that he's standing here, in front of you, you can't stop yourself from drinking in the sight of him. You bite your lip, your eyes trailing over his tattoo, and you hear Hunter groan.

"You keep doing that, and this is going to be over before it even starts."

"Sorry," you say, but you don't sound very apologetic.

"You're not."

"You're right, I'm not," you say, and the smile that lights up his face is so endearing, you have to force yourself to stay where you are and not reach out for him.

He steps closer to the bed, his eyes glued to your naked form. The way he's staring at you makes a fire burn in your stomach, and your breath catches in your throat when his hands slide over your thighs, his fingers digging into the flesh. His eyes find yours, and you can see the way his jaw is clenched, his teeth grinding together.

"Can I?"

"Yeah," you breathe, and the next thing you know, Hunter's hands are gripping the backs of your knees, and he's yanking your legs apart.

You yelp in surprise, and the noise dies in your throat, turning into a moan when he lowers his mouth to your dripping center.

"Oh, fuck."

"Kriff," Hunter mumbles, and the vibration of his voice against you makes your head fall back. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to catch your breath, but it's impossible, because Hunter's mouth is moving against you, his tongue dragging up your slit.

Your fingers find his hair, and he groans. His mouth is hot and eager, his movements hungry and desperate. He's licking and sucking and nipping at the most intimate parts of you, his tongue slipping past your folds. You can hear the noises he's making, the way his lips and tongue are smacking against you, the sounds he's pulling from your mouth, and it's driving you mad.

Hunter slides his hands under your ass, his palms grabbing handfuls of flesh. He pulls you into him, his face pressed into your center, and you let out a long, low moan, your fingers tugging at his hair.

"Up," he grunts, his mouth still working against you, and it takes you a second to realize what he's asking for. When you raise your hips, his hands move underneath you, and then he's lifting you up.

"What — oh, fuck."

His hands are gripping the tops of your thighs, and he's pulling you onto his face, his mouth opening and closing, his tongue darting out, pressing into your dripping cunt.

You let out a high pitched whine, your legs squeezing around his head, and you can feel him smile against you. He hums in approval, and the vibrations make you squirm. Your fingers twist into his hair, and you start rocking your hips, moving against his mouth.

"Fuck, Hunter."

He groans, and the noise sends a rush of heat through you. He sounds like he's enjoying this as much as you are, and the thought makes you shiver. His tongue swirls around your clit, and when his lips close over the swollen nub, his teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh, your head falls back. You're not sure what you're saying, the words coming out in a rush, a jumbled mess, but Hunter is eating it up.

"That's it," he breathes, and his tongue licks a stripe along your slit. He dips it into you, and a moan rips itself from your throat. He does it again, his tongue curling inside you, his lips closing around your folds, sucking the taste of you into his mouth.

"Please," you gasp, your voice hoarse. Your thighs are shaking, and your heart is racing, and you can't think, not when Hunter is between your legs like this. He's devouring you, his tongue moving against you frantically, as if the only thing that matters is getting you off.

"So good," he mumbles, and his words are slurred. "Taste so good."

"Hunter," you beg, tugging at his hair. The action makes him growl, and he doubles his efforts. He's sucking and licking and biting and kissing every inch of you, his tongue moving against you frantically. Each movement nudges his nose against your clit, and the stimulation has you falling apart.

"Hunter," you whimper. "I'm gonna—"

"Come on, sweetheart," he mumbles. His eyes are closed, and his cheeks are flushed, and his lips are red and slick with your arousal. He's a mess, and the sight makes your head spin. "Let go. I want to taste you."

He wraps his lips around your clit, his teeth scraping over the sensitive flesh, and you can't stop it. The fire in your belly explodes, and the tightness snaps, and your orgasm rushes through you, hot and white, a wave of heat that burns in your blood. Your thighs clamp down around Hunter's head, your toes curling, your back arching, and his name is ripped from your throat. You're dimly aware of your hands pulling his hair, and the noises that are leaving his mouth, but you can't focus on anything, not when he's making you feel this way.

Your muscles finally relax, and you're left trembling, your chest heaving. Hunter slows down, but his tongue doesn't stop, and the gentle strokes are too much for you to handle. You whine, trying to move away from him, but he keeps going, licking and sucking at the skin. You squirm, your body overly sensitive, and the movement is making you dizzy.

"Too much," you gasp, and finally, Hunter stops. He lifts his head, his hair falling into his eyes, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He stares at you, his eyes glazed over, and his gaze is enough to make you shiver. He looks absolutely wrecked.

"You taste incredible," he murmurs, and the compliment makes your core throb. He licks his lips, and his eyes flutter closed. You watch him, unable to look away.

"C'mere," you say, and he nods, crawling up the bed. His chest is flushed, and his abs flex with each movement, the muscle rippling. There's a sheen of sweat covering his skin, and his breathing is shallow, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

He lays on top of you, his body heavy, and the weight is a comfort. Your legs wrap around his waist, and his face buries itself into your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

"You okay?" he asks, his words slurring together, and his arms wrap around your back. You nod, and a moment later, you feel him kiss your neck.

"Never been better," you sigh, your head falling back. He smiles against your skin, and his lips find your shoulder, the soft skin of your collarbone, and then the sensitive spot on your neck.

"That was... Wow," you mumble.

"Good wow, or bad wow?" he asks, his tone playful, and his voice is rough.

"Good wow. Really good wow."

Hunter chuckles, and the sound sends a thrill through you. He pulls back and grins at you, his teeth flashing in the darkness. “I aim to please."

"Mission accomplished," you murmur, and you press your lips to his. He responds eagerly, his mouth moving against yours, his tongue licking into you. You can taste yourself on him, and the thought makes you shiver. He kisses you deeply, his tongue moving slowly, as if he's savoring the taste of you.

"You're incredible," he breathes.

"I could say the same about you," you say, your hand trailing along his jawline. "I think you deserve a commendation for that performance. Maybe a medal, or something."

Hunter laughs, and his head dips back down to your neck. He kisses the skin softly, his lips barely brushing against you, and the action makes a shudder run through you. You're still trying to catch your breath, and your heart is beating wildly in your chest. You can't remember the last time you've felt like this, but it's definitely not a feeling you're ready to give up.

"Let me take care of you," you whisper, and his movements slow.

"I'm okay."

"I want to."

"Sweetheart, it's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Hunter."

"Really, it's okay," he insists.

"Do you not want me to touch you?" you ask, and the thought makes your stomach clench.

"It's not that," he says.

"Then what is it?"

He doesn't answer, and you tilt his head up, forcing him to look at you. His face is still flushed, and the longer you look at him, the more his cheeks turn pink.

"I, uh, finished. When you came," he says, and his voice is almost a whisper.

Your mouth drops open.

"Oh," you say, and he's looking anywhere but at you. You can feel his cock twitch against your leg, and his shoulders are tense, and you realize that the reason he's so nervous is because he's embarrassed.

"Hunter," you say, and he doesn't look at you.

"I'm sorry, I just — I couldn't help it. You were... Kriff, you're beautiful, and the sounds you were making, and the way you were grinding against my mouth, and when you came, I could smell you, and it was too much."

You bite back a smile.

"That's so hot," you whisper, and the way his body shudders against yours tells you he heard you.

"It is?"

"Of course," you say. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, and he practically melts against you. You can't stop yourself from smiling, and you try to hide it by kissing his cheek. This whole time, you'd been so focused on your own pleasure, and the fact that he was enjoying it, too, was enough to make you giddy. "That's incredibly hot."

"Really?"

"Really," you confirm. "Are you kidding? It's not every day someone tells me they got off on going down on me. I should probably write it down. Maybe take a holo, for posterity's sake."

Hunter snorts, and his head drops to your shoulder. He nuzzles the soft skin, his stubble tickling your neck, and he sighs. "I can't believe you."

"I can't believe you."

He chuckles, and his hips roll against yours. He's still hard, and when you rock into him, a groan escapes him. You're not sure if he's realized he's doing it, or if he's even aware of the fact that he's pressing his cock against you, his hips moving slowly, but he's dragging his length along your center, and the feeling of it is making your mind foggy.

"You still feel really good," you murmur, and the compliment makes him shiver. His fingers dig into your hips, his nails digging into the soft skin, and his lips find the spot on your neck where his scent is the strongest. He kisses the area, his mouth open, his tongue hot against you, and when he bites down, your legs squeeze around his waist.

"Hunter," you breathe, and he bites down harder. Your body arches into his, and you can feel his lips spread into a smile against your neck.

"Still so responsive," he murmurs, and his voice rumbles in your ear. You can't stop the whimper that leaves you, and your head falls back, your fingers sliding through his hair.

"Only for you," you tell him, and his hands move to your ass. He pulls your hips into his, his grip tight, and the action causes his clothed length to drag along your dripping center.

"Kriff," Hunter mutters, and his fingers curl into the soft flesh. He rocks his hips into yours, and a long, low moan slips past your lips. "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Because of you," you mumble.

His mouth finds your jaw, and he peppers kisses along the soft skin, his hips never stopping their movements. Each roll has the tip of his length pressing into your clit, and each touch makes a small whine escape your lips. You can feel his teeth scraping along your jaw, and then his mouth is covering yours, his tongue licking into you, his teeth catching your bottom lip. He bites down, and a moan tumbles from your throat.

"Fuck, I want you," he mumbles against your mouth, his voice ragged. He's panting, his breathing shallow, and he sounds just as desperate as you feel.

"You can have me," you tell him, and the words seem to snap the last bit of his restraint.

Hunter's fingers dig into your hips, his grip almost bruising, and his lips crash into yours, his mouth open and eager. You kiss him back just as hard, and the two of you are frantic, as if the other one will disappear if you stop.

You reach down, your hands trailing along his torso. You trace the lines of his abs, and his muscles clench under your touch. You trail lower, your fingers dipping into the V of his pelvis, and then your hand is slipping under the waistband of his briefs.

"Fuck," he groans when you wrap your hand around his length. His hips jerk, and his mouth opens, and his breath comes out in a hiss. "Oh, kriff."

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah, it's — yes, fuck," he chokes, and you can't help but smile and tighten your hand. He's slick and warm, and he's leaking all over you. It's hard to gauge his size with only your hand, but you've been feeling him for a while now, and judging by the length and the girth, you're confident in saying he's well endowed. Your body clenches at the thought.

"You're so hard," you murmur, and the way his cock pulses in your palm tells you he likes hearing that.

"You make it difficult not to be," he grunts, his hips bucking, and the movement pushes his length further into your hand. You swipe your thumb over his tip, and his whole body twitches, a low whine escaping him.

"Can I suck your cock?" you ask, and Hunter groans, his head tipping back. His hips snap into your hand, his cock sliding through your fist, and he looks as if he's in pain. You don't think he's even listening to you. "Hunter, can I?"

"Yes, yeah, please," he gasps, his voice cracking.

You bite your lip to keep yourself from grinning, and you push at his chest, trying to get him to roll over. He doesn't seem to realize what you're doing, and it takes a few tries before he's finally getting the hint. He flops onto his back, his head resting on the pillow, and he looks up at you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed.

"Mesh'la," he breathes, and you lean forward, capturing his lips in a quick, searing kiss. You break away before he can respond, and you slide down the bed, hooking your fingers into his briefs and pulling them off. He lifts his hips to help you, and once his cock is free, he lets out a sigh.

You look at him, and your breath catches in your throat.

His body is beautiful, his tan skin glowing in the low light, and his length is thick and heavy, resting against his hip. It's the most erotic thing you've ever seen, and you can't tear your eyes away from him. He's hard and twitching, and the sight is enough to make your mouth water.

You crawl between his legs, and his breath hitches when your hand wraps around his length. You can see him swallowing, and his hands are gripping the sheets. He's watching you, his eyes glazed over and dark, and he's holding his breath, his chest unmoving.

"Breathe," you murmur, and he sucks in a breath. It's shaky, and the sound is loud in the silence of the room, but he's listening. You give him a reassuring smile, and his lips quirk.

"I've been thinking about this for a long time," you admit, and his eyes widen.

"Really?"

"Mmhmm. Is that weird?"

"No," he says, and his voice is strained. "Not weird. I've been thinking about it, too."

You bite your lip, and you stroke his length, your hand twisting around the shaft. A bead of precum leaks from his tip, and Hunter groans, his hips rising off the bed. Your tongue darts out to lick at the fluid, and he makes a strangled noise before his hand finds the back of your head. His fingers thread through your hair, and he pulls you up.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just... I have an idea."

"Yeah?"

"Do you trust me?"

You don't hesitate. "Yes."

"Okay," he says. "Turn around."

"Turn around?"

"Yeah. So you're facing the other way. And then you can sit on my face."

Your jaw drops, and a rush of heat spreads through your body. You know Hunter can see it on you, and his grin is wolfish.

"You did say you wanted to suck my cock," he points out. "I'm just helping."

You let out a laugh, and you can feel your cheeks heating. You nod, and the next thing you know, you're being picked up by the hips and spun around. You let out a yelp, surprised by his strength, but you let him position you as he sees fit. You're on your hands and knees above him, and you can feel his fingers digging into your hips.

"Comfortable?" he asks, and you can feel him breathing. His voice is coming from right behind you, and you nod.

"Yeah."

He places his hands on your hips and guides you down until you're hovering above his mouth. Your breathing is ragged and your pulse is racing, and you can't bring yourself to look down at him. The anticipation is overwhelming, and it's taking all of your self control not to squirm.

Hunter doesn't give you much time to adjust, and the next thing you know, his mouth is on you. You moan, and your head drops, your forehead resting on his pelvis. Your tongue drags over the base of his length, and you hear him groan.

You're not sure how you're going to focus on him, because Hunter's tongue is moving against you, his hands guiding your hips, pulling you down onto his mouth. You can feel his teeth and his lips and his tongue, and his stubble is scratching at the sensitive skin, and it's driving you crazy.

You drag your tongue along his length, and he moans against you. It's enough to encourage you, and you open your mouth, wrapping your lips around his tip. He lets out a shaky sigh, his hips lifting slightly, and the taste of him fills your mouth. You suck him in, taking him as far as you can, and when he hits the back of your throat, a long, low groan echoes through the room.

"Fuck," he breathes.

You can feel his hips shaking, and you know it's taking every ounce of his willpower not to thrust into your mouth. Instead, he pushes his tongue into you, and his thumbs are rubbing circles into your hips.

It takes some work, but the two of you manage to establish a rhythm. He licks and sucks and nips at you while you bob your head up and down his shaft, taking him as far into your mouth as possible. What you can't reach with your mouth, you wrap your hand around, twisting and pumping him. Each movement of your hand is met with a growl from below, and each swipe of his tongue has you moaning around his cock.

"F-fuck, Hunter," you mumble, his tip hitting the back of your throat, and you swallow around him. The action makes him twitch, and a moan tumbles from his mouth, vibrating against your cunt.

"You're incredible," he groans. "You take me so well."

You whine, and you're not sure how much longer you can do this. You're already sensitive from the first round, and Hunter is relentless. His mouth and his tongue are everywhere, and the stimulation is making your mind foggy.

"So good," he murmurs, and his hand slides down, his fingers dipping inside you. You can't hold back the moan that spills from you, and the vibrations make Hunter hiss. He adds a second finger, curling and twisting them, his pace faster and more frantic. His mouth closes over your clit, and his tongue swirls around the swollen bud, his lips sucking it into his mouth.

You moan, and his hips buck. The sudden movement makes him slide further down your throat, and you gag, tears filling your eyes.

"Fuck," he groans. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm sorry."

"M'fine," you slur, your mouth still around his cock, and you suck him harder, your tongue moving over his shaft. Hunter's fingers dig into your hips, his nails biting into the flesh, and his teeth are scraping along your cunt, his tongue moving in time with the movements of his hand.

You can feel the tightness building in your stomach, the familiar feeling of the coil snapping, and you're close, so close. Hunter can sense it, too, because his pace is relentless. He's working you furiously, his tongue moving at a feverish pace, and the way he's licking and sucking at you is enough to make you scream.

You let his cock fall from your mouth, and you press your face into his pelvis, his length rubbing against your cheek.

"Hunter, I'm gonna—"

"Let go, sweetheart," he rasps. "Let go. Come on my face."

The words alone are enough to push you over the edge, and a moment later, you're seeing stars. You let out a sob as your orgasm consumes you, and your legs are trembling, your muscles tightening. A rush of heat washes over you, and Hunter pulls his fingers away to wrap his arm around your waist, holding you steady as you come apart.

He doesn't stop, his tongue moving furiously against you, his mouth open and eager. Through the tears blurring your eyes, you see his cock pulsing, the tip red and swollen, and his thighs are shaking. You know he's close, and you want him to finish with you, so you take his length back into your mouth, sucking and licking him.

Hunter groans, and his tongue works frantically, his hips lifting off the bed. His grip on your waist is bruising, and he's moaning against you, his tongue lapping at your folds, and then he's coming undone, his cock pulsing and spurting hot and sticky into your mouth.

You swallow, and the act alone is enough to send another shudder through him. He's panting against you, his hips jerking, and his breathing is harsh, his chest heaving.

"Kriff," he mutters, his lips dragging against the soft skin of your thighs. "That was — wow."

You smile, and you place a kiss on the head of his length, licking the stray droplet of cum off his slit. Hunter whimpers, his hips lifting, and the sound is so soft and quiet, you can barely hear it.

"Fuck," he groans, and he's still twitching. You give him one last, long lick, and he hisses, his hands squeezing your hips. You sit up and turn around, straddling his hips, and when you see his face, a laugh bubbles up in your chest.

"You look like a mess," you say, and his eyes widen.

"I've just had the life sucked out of me. Give me a break."

"That was so good," you say, and you bend down to kiss him. His lips part, and his tongue finds yours, licking into you. He moans at the taste of himself on your lips, and his hands move to the small of your back. The two of you stay like that for a while, trading lazy kisses and soft touches, enjoying each other's presence. Eventually, Hunter breaks away, his nose brushing against yours.

"We should get some sleep," he says, and he sounds reluctant. "It's been a long day, and the others could be back anytime."

"Oh," you say, and your heart sinks. You'd forgotten the others would be returning in the morning, and that meant the night would be over. Hunter is right; the two of you needed rest. You weren't ready for it to end, though.

"We can talk about it in the morning," he says, his tone gentle, and his hand moves to stroke your hair.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," you say.

Hunter turns and places you on the bed, and you lie back and watch as he stands and pads naked first to your bag, then the bathroom. When he comes back, he's got a damp cloth, and he kneels on the bed next to you. You expect him to hand it to you so you can clean yourself up, but instead, he uses it to gently wipe you down. The action is so tender and intimate, it makes your heart ache.

"There," he says, a few moments later. He tosses the cloth towards the bathroom, and then he's back, pulling the covers over the both of you.

He turns on his side and pulls you into him, and you let him. You rest your head on his chest, and his arms wrap around your waist. He lets out a sigh, and his nose buries itself in your hair.

"This is nice," you mumble.

"Yeah, it is," Hunter agrees, and the two of you lapse into silence. You can feel your eyes growing heavy, and the steady rise and fall of his chest is comforting. His hand is moving up and down your spine, his fingers tracing patterns along the soft skin, and each touch is lulling you to sleep.

You're drifting, the sounds of the fire and Hunter's breathing fading away, when the sound of your datapad beeping brings you back. You roll over and grab it from the bedside table, squinting at the display.

"It's Tech," you say, and Hunter grunts, his eyes fluttering open. 

I can't reach Hunter. Are you two okay?

You type a quick reply. We're fine. Just fell asleep.

I need to talk to him. Please wake him up.

"He needs to talk to you," you say, and you can hear Hunter grumbling. He opens one eye, and his lip curls.

"Can't it wait?"

"Apparently not," you say, and Hunter groans.

"Fine," he says, and he snatches the datapad from your hand, his fingers flying across the keypad. A moment later, his mouth quirks up into a grin, and he holds out the screen so you can read the message.

The repairs to the engine are taking longer than I anticipated, Tech had written. I estimate we will be ready to leave in about 18 hours. I apologize for the inconvenience. Will try to keep you apprised of the situation.

Underneath it was Hunter's message. Take all the time you need. We're not going anywhere.

Your mouth drops open, and Hunter's smile is growing wider. You read the message again and grin. 

"We have 18 hours?" you ask, and you're unable to contain the excitement in your voice.

Hunter nods and sets the datapad back on the nightstand. You can't see his face clearly in the dark, but you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. "Guess so."

You let out a giggle and throw yourself at him, pushing him onto his back and straddling him. He lets out a huff of surprise, but his hands come to rest on your hips, and he squeezes them gently.

"Well then. Let's not waste them."

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

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@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms

[wowzer-bowzer]

Title: A Perfectly Simple Gesture

Summary: Kate asks you out on a date.

Kate Martin had never been this nervous before a date, and she’d been through plenty of them. But today was different. Today, she wasn’t just going to a party or a casual hangout. Today, she was going to ask someone she deeply cared about out on a proper date.

Kate’s heart pounded as she stood outside of your dorm, clutching a bouquet of bright, colorful flowers and a small box of chocolates. It was a crisp autumn afternoon, and the campus was alive with the sounds of students rushing between classes. The leaves had turned shades of orange and gold, making the scene outside your dorm picturesque and fitting for what Kate had planned.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart, and finally knocked on the door. A moment later, you opened it, you face lighting up with a bright, genuine smile when you saw Kate standing there.

“Hey, Kate! What’s up?” You asked, your tone warm and curious.

Kate’s nerves were palpable, but she managed a smile as she held out the flowers and chocolates. “Hey, Y/N. I thought I’d surprise you. I brought these for you.”

Your eyes widened in pleasant surprise as you took the bouquet, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the flowers. “Wow, these are beautiful. Thank you Kate, I love them!” You glanced at the box of chocolates with a grin. “And chocolates too? You’re really going all out.”

Kate chuckled, feeling a bit of her nervousness ease. “I guess I wanted to make today special. I was actually hoping we could talk for a minute. Maybe go out for coffee or dinner?”

Your expression softened, a mixture of surprise and curiosity dancing in your eyes. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Kate nodded, her face flushing slightly. “Yeah, I guess I am. I’ve been wanting to spend some more time with you, just the two of us. And I thought this might be a nice way to do it.”

Your smile widened, and you stepped aside to let Kate in. “I’d love that. Let me just put these in water and we can talk about it.”

Kate followed you into your dorm, taking in the cozy, personal touches that made the room feel uniquely yours. The walls were adorned with photos and posters, and a small desk was cluttered with textbooks and notes. It felt intimate, and Kate felt a bit more at ease.

You placed the flowers in a vase and set the chocolates on the desk before turning to Kate. “So, where are we going?” You asked, you eyes twinkling with excitement.

“I was thinking we could try that new café down on Main Street. I’ve heard they have amazing lattes and pastries,” Kate suggested. “We could just hang out and see where the day takes us.”

“That sounds perfect,” you replied, your smile never fading. “I’m really glad you asked.”

Kate felt a rush of relief and happiness. “Me too. I’ve been wanting to spend more time with you, and I thought today would be a great chance to do that.”

You spent a few more minutes chatting and laughing, enjoying the easy camaraderie that had always been a part of your interactions. Finally, you headed out together, walking side by side through the autumn afternoon.

As you reached the café, Kate couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. Everything seemed to be falling into place perfectly. You ordered your drinks and pastries, finding a cozy corner to sit and talk. The conversation flowing effortlessly, punctuated by shared laughter and meaningful glances.

By the time you both finished your coffee and pastries, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the city. Kate walked you back to your dorm, feeling a sense of accomplishment and joy for the day.

Once at your dorm, you paused, you both a bit reluctant for the day to end. You looked at Kate with a soft, appreciative smile. “Thank you for today. It was really amazing.”

Kate smiled back, feeling a surge of warmth. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I had a great time too.”

You shared a tender hug, and Kate couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement for what might come next. As you closed the door, Kate turned to head back to her own dorm, her heart full of hope and happiness.

The day had been simple but perfect, and Kate knew it was just the beginning of something wonderful.

I would like to thank you, for the support on my last two fix’s. I’m literally so happy. But like seriously thank you. :)

Also I take requests. No smut though. :)

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part eight; final)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)(part six)(part seven) (ao3 link)

It was an “if” if Eddie would actually be discharged today, but now, after some more poking and prodding, he's finally on his way home with prescriptions for pain meds and physical therapy. 

Wayne helps him up the three creaky, beautifully familiar stairs into the trailer, and Eddie collapses onto the old, beautifully familiar couch the second he gets inside. The weary groan he lets out is only slightly over-dramatized. “I feel like an 80 year old man,” he complains, entire body sore and aching to the bone already. “Now I know how you feel.”

“Oi, I ain't that old,” Wayne protests. When Eddie snorts derisively, Wayne rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Alright, fine, so we both got creaky knees now. You, at least, will be young and spry again in no time, though,” his uncle tells him. “Just get some rest, old man.” 

Eddie heaves a great big sigh, takes another breath to steel himself, and then does just the opposite of that. 

“What did I just say?” Wayne mutters as Eddie moves to stand again. 

“I said I’d call Steve,” Eddie says. Steve had to go to work, but he'd told Eddie that morning to call him if he ended up making it home today. “I’ll dip out of work and come hang out, help you settle in, if you want,” Steve had said. 

Wayne offers, “I can call him for you.” 

“No, no, I got it,” Eddie insists, words broken by a grunt as he hauls himself back to his feet. “I can make it to the phone, Wayne, I'm not a complete invalid.”

“Alright.” Wayne raises his hands in defeat and backs off. He’s never been one to hover. “You just shout if you need me.” 

Eddie limps - slowly, painfully, with difficulty - to the phone on the wall by the tiny dining table they never use, the surface littered instead with unopened mail and haphazard papers scribbled with notes and reminders and important phone numbers. He leans heavily against the table as he paws through the piles trying to find a note of Steve's number. Eddie finds it buried deep, probably long since memorized by now before his memory got erased, but there it is: a notepad paper with Steve's name scrawled on it and two phone numbers written underneath, home and work. 

“Bingo.” Eddie grabs the paper, takes the phone off the hook, and dials the work number. 

The phone rings a couple times, and then: “Family Video. How can I help you?” 

“Hey, Stevie.” Eddie smiles at the sound of his voice, as if he hadn't literally just heard it only a few hours ago. 

“Eddie!” Steve's bored customer service voice brightens. “Are you home? How are you feeling?” 

“Yeah, I’m home. I’m alright. I mean, I’m bone-fucking-tired and feel about a million years old, but it's really really good to be back,” Eddie says honestly. He adds, “I’m under strict orders to rest, though - gonna be bored out of my mind, so I could use the company if you were serious about ditching work for me.” 

“Of course I was serious,” replies Steve. “It's a slow day today anyways.” 

Eddie grins. “Get your sweet ass over here then.” 

A smile is evident in Steve's voice too. “I'll be there in ten.” 

Eddie hangs up, tries his best to wipe this stupid lovesick grin off his face. He stumbles his way down the hall to his room next, flicking on some music from the cassette player on his dresser and looking around. His room is just as beautifully familiar as the rest of the trailer, not much changed from the way he last remembers it. The same music and D&D shit clutter his surfaces, the same posters clutter his walls. His bed is unmade, clothes litter the floor, same as always.

The only differences: his beloved electric guitar no longer hangs on the wall by the mirror (he was told, devastatingly, that she hadn't survived her trip to the Upside Down), and there are photographs he doesn't recognize taped up around the corners of that mirror. Eddie staggers over to get a closer look, only to first be momentarily jumpscared by his own reflection. His face is pale, eyes sunken, and his hair frizzes out in a greasy, tangled mess around his head, unwashed and unbrushed for who knows how long. Gross, but whatever. He manages to ignore his sickly appearance and inspects the pictures he had apparently deemed important enough to stick to the edges of his mirror. 

There are photos of Eddie smiling with Hellfire and his band and the kids, in large groups and small groups, with old friends he remembers and newer ones he doesn't quite. But what catches his attention the most is a photobooth strip of him and Steve. The first picture shows the two of them grinning, arms slung around each other’s shoulders; the second, a silly face photo, Eddie sticking out his tongue and Steve crossing his eyes; the third, Eddie giving Steve devil horns while Steve laughs; and the fourth- 

Eddie plucks the strip off the mirror, stumbles, so taken aback he trips over his own lame feet until he plops down heavily onto his bed, and he stares. He stares at the last image in the row, which depicts - clear as day and undeniably real, immortalized in ink on photo paper - Steve kissing Eddie, tender hand on his cheek, both of them smiling against each other’s lips.

He stares and he stares and he stares. And the longer he stares the more he can almost feel it, taste it, see the events of that photo strip playing out in his mind’s eye like a waking dream. Like a memory. 

~ 

Steve pulls up to the trailer, the one with the metal music blaring from somewhere inside that announces to the whole park that Eddie Munson is back home. He smiles at the sound, gets out of his car and bounds toward it. 

It's Wayne who lets him in when Steve knocks on the door. “He's in his room,” the older man tells him as he steps aside to let Steve in. “Make sure he's stayin’ off his feet, will you? ‘Cause lord knows he won't listen to me.” 

“Yeah, I got it,” Steve says, and his tone and his smile say I got him. Wayne nods. 

Steve makes his way down the hall to Eddie’s room. He raps his knuckles against the door first, but he doubts that can even be heard over the music so he pushes it open without waiting for a response. “Hey, Ed-” Steve starts, only to falter when he sees Eddie sitting statue-still on the edge of his bed, eyes boring holes into a photo strip of the two of them together. “Oh.” 

Eddie blinks, expression unreadable as he looks up and over at Steve. “Why didn't you tell me?” 

“I-” Steve doesn't know what to say, what he should say. His veins buzz with a nauseating mix of hope and anxiety and it's making him feel a bit sick. He takes a deep breath, turns down the music so he can think. “I wanted to. I just- I thought it would freak you out. You didn't know me. I didn't want to force anything on you.” 

“So…we were together,” Eddie says slowly. “For how long?” 

“Since July.” Steve’s desperately searching Eddie’s face for something, anything, to clue him in to what Eddie’s thinking or feeling right now. “Are- are you freaked out? Because you look a little freaked out.” 

“I’m not freaked out,” Eddie says, and it's almost convincing. “I'm just…processing.” 

“Oh-kay…” Steve breathes out, leaning cautiously against the doorframe, still hovering by the exit just in case Eddie decides he doesn't want him there anymore once he's finished processing.

“I’ve, uh-” Eddie looks back down at the photo strip he holds in his hands and takes a breath. “I’ve been remembering some things, you know, little things - in dreams - about us. But I- I thought I just had a crush or something, because I thought if all of that was real, if we had really been that happy - that…in love - then you would've said something. You would've told me.” 

When Eddie's eyes meet his again, Steve realizes he'd misread his expression before. Eddie's not freaked, he's upset, hurt, not because of what he's learned but because it was kept from him. Of all the worst-case scenarios Steve's spiraling mind had come up with over the past couple weeks, he had not considered this one. So preoccupied with his own angst over being forgotten and fear of being unwanted, Steve hadn't thought to consider that him hiding the true nature of their past might make Eddie feel unwanted too. That's the last thing Steve wants; the ache of that trumps any other ache he feels. 

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I just- you didn't know me, and I panicked; I didn't think, or-or I thought too much, but I should've just told you.” Steve pushes off from the doorway and goes to sit beside Eddie, because he can't stand Eddie looking at him with those big doe eyes and not being close to him. He leaves a bit of space, barely holds himself back from taking hold of Eddie's hand. “Because it was real, all the things you've been remembering. It was real- it is real, and I’m so sorry I didn't tell you.” 

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. His gaze flicks him up and down and across his face, and then Eddie grabs him, hands dropping the photo strip to instead clutch at Steve's cheek and jaw as he pulls him in and kisses him. As their lips slide together, familiar, the both of them sigh into the kiss. Steve feels a bursting in his heart, so similar to the way it felt the very first time they’d done this: the giddiness of reciprocation, the intuition that this is right. 

When Eddie pulls back after a few long moments, something is changed, something returned. Steve watches Eddie’s eyes flutter open; and when they do, for the first time since he'd woken up in that hospital bed, Eddie sees him, knows him, loves him. 

“How could I ever have forgotten that?” Eddie says, almost whispered, running his thumb across Steve's cheekbone. “How could I ever have forgotten you?” 

Steve could cry. Tears made of relief and joy blur his vision, because Eddie is looking at him with all the tenderness he'd been missing these past weeks, the painful emptiness of before now filled. It's all back. His Eddie is back. Steve pitches forward and hugs him bodily. Eddie returns the embrace; Steve sinks into his arms and it feels like coming home. 

He closes his misty eyes, buries his face in the crook of Eddie's neck and the tangles of his hair, and he breathes him in, clinging onto him like Eddie might just disappear if Steve ever let go. Eddie holds him just as close, one arm wrapped firm around Steve's waist while his other hand cradles the back of Steve's head and strokes his hair. Steve soaks in every touch, feels every place where they are pressed against each other, so warm and safe and loving after so long without it. He is whole again in the arms of the man he loves.  

“I missed you,” Steve mutters, lips brushing against the skin of Eddie's neck as he speaks, muffled. 

“I know, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, “my Stevie, I’m so sorry.” 

“S’okay. It wasn't your fault,” Steve mumbles, and he thinks maybe they both need to stop apologizing for this. 

Eddie must think the same, because he says, “And it wasn't yours either,” like he knows every twisted, guilty thought that's been haunting Steve lately and he absolves him of them. He tugs gently at Steve’s hair to get him to lift his head and look him in the eyes. “You know that, right?” 

“Yeah, I know,” Steve says quietly. Eddie reaches up to brush from his cheek a tear Steve didn't even know had fallen, and as he wipes it away he wipes away everything - all blame, all fear, all pain. Eddie had forgotten him, and it sucked, but now he remembers again, and none of that matters anymore. Steve hangs onto Eddie's wrist. “Just-” His voice rasps with emotion, making it rougher. “Don't you ever forget about me again.” 

It's not a promise that can be made with any certainty - anything can happen at any time, just as unexpectedly as it had this time - but Steve doesn't need certainty, he just needs to hear the words, and Eddie gives that to him. “I won't, darling,” he vows, with gentle reassurance. “Never again.”

“Good,” Steve sighs, turning his head into Eddie's hand to press a kiss to the palm. 

The last of his heavier emotions drain out of him then and now he can feel the joy of Eddie's return in its whole entirety. As he rolls his face out of Eddie's hand and settles his eyes on the beautiful boy in front of him, a grin begins to spread across Steve's face; Eddie's smile grows in tandem with his, like he's smiling just because Steve is. Steve says, giddy in full now, “You're back.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, lovely and bright, ducking to bump his forehead against Steve's. “I'm back.” 

Steve lets go of Eddie's wrist to tangle a hand in his hair, and he tilts his head up to kiss him again, just because he can, because he's making up for lost time. They draw each other in close once more, lips and bodies moving against each other, easy and natural. Steve could stay right here like this forever, never wants to stop holding him or stop kissing him. 

But a thought - a question - tickles at the base of Steve's skull, and when he does pull back he asks, hopeless romantic that he is, “Just in case - I mean, just so I know - what was it that brought your memory back? Was it like a…true love’s kiss breaking the spell sort of thing?” 

Eddie laughs, gives Steve another quick peck like he always does when Steve says something endearing. “Not quite, Prince Charming,” he responds with a grin so fond Steve thinks his heart might burst. “It was more like…the things I had remembered were just dreams to me, shallow and unreal, but kissing you was like an anchor, a reminder that allowed those dreams to sink in as proper memories and become real.” 

“So…basically it was true love’s kiss,” Steve says cheekily, just to hear Eddie’s laugh again, just to receive another affectionate press of Eddie's lips against his. 

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie concedes, smilingly, never one not to indulge whimsy, “we can call it that.” But then he amends, with a little less levity, “It wasn't exactly a magic cure-all, though. It didn't bring everything back, there are still gaps in my memory.” He looks at Steve with eyes like pools of melted chocolate, soft and endless. “But I remember that I love you; I remember that much.” 

And Steve tells him, “That's enough," and he pulls him in for another true love's kiss.

THE END. taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (continued in replies)

[bambikisss]

Django :: J.Yunho

-> Cop! Yunho x Criminal! Reader

-> Django: ATEEZ

-> After the bounty on you is raised, Yunho is sent out to go looking for you. What happens when he actually does find you outside of a club?

-> Warnings: Use of nicknames (Slut, princess, baby), degradation, spanking, use of handcuffs, car sex, from the back, ROUGH, oral (both reciving), Outlaw Yunho (deserves his own warnings at this point)

A/N: I have returned! I've been excited for ATEEZ's outlaw release, so I immediately thought of cop Yunho with Django. Plus, I just saw a video of Yunho getting mad and I immediately knew I had to write something about him. You are also nicknamed Django in this as well

Not proofread | Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

"Officer Yunho! Hey!" The busy police office doesn't stop Wooyoung from calling him as he enters the office, sighing as he asks what he wants. He had just came back from booking a criminal who punched him in the jaw, so he wasn't in the mood for whatever Wooyoung wanted to gossip about.

Before Wooyoung could show Yunho the meme he found, the police captain enters the room, passing around a wanted poster that was freshly printed. "Alright everyone, all hands on deck! We finally got a good picture to put on the wanted poster of the robber who has been making rounds around the city. She needs to be captured as soon as possible! The citizens of this city are constantly complaining about us not finding her."

Yunho nods at the captain's words, remembering the old lady earlier who was lecturing him while he was putting someone in his backseat. His eyes look over the wanted poster, noticing the now high bounty on you.

WANTED: Y/N AKA Django.

10 thousand dollar bounty! He can't help but scoff, knowing no one would turn someone else in for such a low bounty. He has often told his captain that they needed to raise the amount to actually make the citizens care, but his words were brushed off. His words were always brushed off, despite being one of the top cops who brought in the criminals. As he was preparing to go out on patrol to avoid doing any office work, the captain stopped him, handing him a stack of the wanted posters, giving him the silent look to go put them up all around the city. Yunho didn't even try to object, sighing as he accepting the papers before leaving the office, not wanting anyone else to add to his work load.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "No, ma'am, I cannot arrest him for parking here. This parking spot is not yours as it's public parking." Yunho couldn't help but sigh as he tried to hold back his anger at the woman's yelling, wanting nothing more than to yell back at her. But, he couldn't do that, not when he had this job to help people, even if they were centimeters from his face yelling about something as small as a parking spot.

Once he was finally back in his car, he drove a good bit away so he could be alone for a bit. Even though it was a good bit past midnight, the calls were still rampant. In moments like theses, it often made him wonder why he chose this job. He tossed his head back to rest against the headrest, taking a deep breath to help calm himself before he his phone began to ring, vibrating the many wanted posters of the criminal he still hadn't posted around the city. He answered the phone, returning to his natural position as he listened to Wooyoung.

"I'm currently working on the program for our bodycams, so I'm just calling to let you know that they'll be done for a while. I suggest you get some sleep while you can." Yunho thanked him before hanging up, smiling at the idea of finally being able to be asleep. He'd have to thank Wooyoung later for giving him a heads up.

As he returned to his upright position, he noticed someone walking out of a club, the woman walking right past the cop car. He couldn't help but admire the woman, his eyes moving over her beautiful short dress and heels.

Maybe he could do something else besides sleeping for the time being.

"Excuse me!" he got out of his car, jogging to catch up with the woman. He hoped he wasn't scaring her as he knew how some people felt about the police suddenly approaching them, but he hoped his charms could keep her from feeling so scared. He jogged in front of the woman, smiling as she met his eyes. "Sorry for bothering you, miss, but I-"

Oh. My. God.

Yunho paused as he made eye contact with the woman, his mind going back to the many wanted pictures that sat in the passenger seat of his car. He watched as a slow smile crept onto your lips, realizing that you're Y/N.

He just caught Django.

"You're under arrest, Y/N. Or, could I say Django." You tilted your head as you watched him roughly grab his handcuffs from his belt, the metal glimmering in the moonlight as he roughly grabbed your arm. You mentally cursed yourself for not realizing the car you walked in front of was a cop car, let alone the man you stopped to talk to was a cop. You tried to move from his strong hands, but he only pulled you closer to him, handcuffing your hands behind your back before he moved closer to you, pressing his chest to your back as he said into your ear "finally caught you, bitch." You would usually beat someone up for calling you a bitch, but to hear Yunho say it with a deep voice, filled with anger made your body warm up and your panties dampen. You wouldn't lie; he was hot and if he wasn't pushing you to get into his car, you would've given yourself to him to have his way with you. You were dying to know what was underneath the tight cop clothes that only showed off his muscles, mentally moaning at his roughness as he shoved you into the backseat before slamming the door shut.

Yunho couldn't believe he had been the one to catch you, smirking as he thought about what he could do with that lousy prize money- while it wasn't a lot, it was could be enough for a trip somewhere, maybe even a cruise.

He quickly got into the front seat before he began driving, thinking about what to do with you now that he had you handcuffed in his backseat. He knew that if he brought you back to the precinct, he wouldn't get the credit he deserved, plus you had escaped before so he couldn't bring you there. He bit his lip before pulling over into a empty alleyway, deciding to call his captain to tell him the great news. He looked back at you in the rearview mirror, gasping lightly as he noticed your legs now spread, giving him a perfect view of your now wet lace panties as your head rested back against the headrest. The image of you like that made his mouth water and pants tighten, cursing softly as he ripped his eyes from you. He waited at the tone for his captain to answer before he cursed as his voicemail began to speak. The one time he actually wanted this man to answer the phone, he wasn't. Yunho sighed before cursing softly, remembering that his body cams were off.

Why would he wait for the other police to punish you when he could? You gasped as the backseat door was ripped open, Yunho's hand moving to roughly pull you from the backseat to your knees in front of him, your knees now resting against the wet alleyway ground as he looked down at you with angry eyes. "What the fuck are you-"

"Shut up, slut. I suggest you do as I say or I'll make sure you'll spend the rest of your life behind bars." You jumped at his rough voice, watching as he began to unbuckle his pants, pushing them down his thick thighs to show you his large cock, hard and standing at attention against his stomach. Your mouth couldn't help but water, leaning forward to get a taste before hissing as his hand moved to grip your hair, roughly pulling your hair back so you could see his face, his tongue poking his cheek as his eyes darkened. "No. Good girls get to taste this cock. I don't think I should even let you look at it, let alone taste it." You were about to speak, your words cut off my his hand moving from your hair to roughly grip your cheeks, growling as he heard you whimper at his rough movements. It only made his cock harder, twitching in front of you, making you moan.

"You want this cock, you're going to earn it. Tonight, you belong to me- you are mine. You will answer to me or I will stop and drop you off in the jail in an instant." You nodded at his rough voice, mentally moaning when you hear him chuckling before moving forward, pushing only the head of his cock into your mouth, tossing his head back as your tongue moved around to gather the precum eagerly. Yunho closed his eyes at the feeling of your warm tongue moving over the slit of his cock before he decided he had enough, tossing his head forward to watch as he pushed the rest of his cock into your mouth, going down your throat in a slow pace. He watched as your eyes watered due to his large size, his hips moving in a slow pace as he clicked his tongue, shaking head in disappointment before removing his cock from your mouth.

"You want me to take care of that wet pussy you were showing me earlier, right slut?" you nodded at his question, gasping as his hands forcefully opened your mouth before he roughly pushed his cock back down your throat. "Then hurry up and pleasure me. Show me what you're good for, slut."

You nodded, your fingers digging into your wrist as you began to move your head along his cock, moaning around his long, thick length. You met his eyes while you did so, making Yunho moan as you moaned around him again, making him toss his head back against the wall. You moved faster as he cursed softly, praising you in between his moans.

"There we go, slut, now you're showing me what you're good for, fuck!" His voice raised as his hips began to move, dragging his length all the way out of your mouth before slamming back down your throat, making you choke around his length at his hard pace. You couldn't help but moan at rough he was being with you, squeezing your own legs to offer yourself some pleasure as he continued to fuck your throat at a fast pace. You soon felt his cock twitch, letting you know that he was going to cum. Yunho showed no sign of slowing down, though, moving even faster before roughly stopping his hips against your face as his cum filled your throat, choking out a moan before he slowly pulling out of your mouth as you cough, a mixture of drool and cum dripping down your mouth as you did so.

Yunho smirked before his thumb moved across your skin, gathering the mixture before shoving it back into your mouth, humming as your tongue moved around it to gather the mixture. He felt his cock harden immediately, hooking his thumb into the side of your mouth before helping you stand, ushering you to get back into the car. You carefully crawled in, gasping as you felt his hand meet your ass roughly, surely going to leave a mark as the car door slammed closed behind him. You rested your head against the seat as you felt his hands move around your body, pushing up your already short dress up your waist before kissing around your ass and lower back, whispering praises as he did so.

"I think you earned a bit of a surprise, don't you, princess?" He asked against your lower back, his hands moving to pull down your panties in a slow pace. You nodded, your brain too fuzzy from him face fucking you to think clearly. Yunho smirked at your state before letting his fingers move along your wetness, chuckling as he listened to you mewl at the teasing feeling. "What if my other officers were on duty tonight and caught you walking in front of their car wearing this slutty little dress instead of me, huh? Would you let them get a taste of this pretty pussy like this, princess?" He chuckled as you let out an almost drunk sounding "no, only you!"

"Fuck, yes that feels so good!" You moaned loudly as his finger suddenly plunged into your wet heat, his tongue soon following while he tasted you, making you moan loudly. It seemed like everything about Yunho was big- his cock, his muscles, even his tongue and fingers were big as he ate you out, his fingers moving in you at a rapid pace. He groaned as he felt his cock twitch underneath himself, letting his fingers move from you to lubricate himself before pumping himself, moaning loudly into your wet cut. The sounds and noises you were making for him made him move his own hand faster along his cock, plunging his tongue deeper into you to capture more of your wetness. You tasted so fucking sweet to him, making him want more of you.

It almost made him mad that his bodycam was off- he wanted to be able to watch the footage back of him having you like this.

"C-cum, I'm going to-" Your whimpers were cut off with a noise of disappointment as Yunho immediately removed his tongue from your wet cunt at your words, making you whine louder before yelping as his hand laid another spank to your ass. Before you could ask what the fuck he was doing edging you like this, you gasped at the feeling of his cock slowly pushing it's way into your cunt. Yunho swore it felt better than heaven; the way it wrapped deliciously around his long, thick cock made him toss his head forward with a loud moan, spanking you again. "That's such a nice pussy, baby. Too bad I'm going to ruin it"

That was the only warning you got before he began to pound into you, rocking your body as his hips roughly met the plush of your ass. He grunted as his hands held onto your handcuffed hands for balance, driving his hard cock into you at a fast pace. He tossed his head back as you moaned loudly, the feeling your orgsam soon washing over you as you toss your own head back, coating his cock in your warm cum. You laid against the seat limp as all of your energy left your body, trying to catch your breath as you felt him slowly pull out of you with a wet pop. You winced at the wet sound, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep against the leather seats.

"Don't think I'm done with you, slut. This is your punishment."

You gasped as you felt Yunho pick you up, sitting himself down before having you hover over his hard cock. You whimpered as he slowly sunk you back down onto it, moaning as you noticed the bulge forming in your stomach from how big he was. Once you were fully seated on his cock, Yunho noticed how tried you were, clicking his tongue before slapping your ass, grunting out "you better get to riding slut or that jail is going to be where you're laying your head for the night" "It's hard to ride you with my hands behind my back" You moaned out harshly, letting your head rest back against the front seat as you tried to catch your breath. Yunho chuckled, before leaning forward to kiss your neck, leaving marks along your neck before pulling back from you, holding up the handcuffs that were around your wrists. "There. Now ride me."

You nodded at his demanding voice, placing your hands on his shoulders before bouncing along his cock at a fast pace, moaning loudly at the feeling of his cock grazing your G-spot. Yunho moaned before smashing his lips against yours, gripping your hips to help you move along his cock at a fast pace as the sound filled the car. He let his tongue move to meet yours as you moved faster, panting into the kiss at the feeling of him going so deep into you.

"Fuck, Y/N baby, if you keep riding me like this I'm gonna fill you up with my cum." he couldn't help but laugh breathlessly as he tossed his head forward to let his lips hover over yours as you bounced his hands gripping your breasts now to for leverage as he fucks up into you, saying "and if you make me cum hard enough, I'll let you fucking go. Yeah baby, ride me hard like that and I'll let you go free"

You let his words provide sudden motivation to you as you begin to ride him again, meeting his rough thrusts as you bounce, gripping his hair as you pressed your foreheads against each other, moaning loudly as the wet sounds become louder int he car, the car moving with the force of you two.

"That's it, Y/N, I'm going to cum! You better cum with me, let me fill you up with my fucking cum!" Yunho tossed his head back as he slammed your down on his cock, an almost animalistic moan leaving his mouth as he cums, roughly kissing you as you squeeze around him, both your cums now coating your thighs and his cock. You both panted into the kiss before he carefully helped you to lay back against the leather seat, slowly pulling out of you as your legs shook.

You let your eyes close as you heard the car door close before the car turn on, being too tired to do anything as you slowly fell asleep. You soon woke up to the sound of Yunho on the phone, fully dressed in his police uniform as he spoke to who you figured to be his captain. You fixed your dress as you felt a surge of nervousness fill your body, reaching for the car door, feeling surprised as the car door opens, showing you it was unlocked. As you slipped out from the backseat, you realized Yunho had brought you back to where he had originally found you. You turned to him as he held out his card, his number written on it before he said to whoever he was on the phone with "Did I find Django? Y/N? No, I didn't."

You caught him smirking at you as you accepted the card, smiling back at him as you exited the car, the last thing you hear him say before you close the door being "yes I will go patrol and look for her." You carefully closed the door as he drove away, looking down at the card he gave you with his number on it.

Call me, Django ;)

[satcrvz]

COME WHEN YOU CALL!!

title has nothing to do with the fic LOL i just like tv girl.

suguru geto x reader, around 1k words, slight gojo slander

you were bored. you were currently hanging upside down on geto's bed, trying to make out the words on the posters scattered on his wall. geto on the other hand, was laying on his back with one hand in his hoodie, one holding his phone.

he finally decided to speak up on your 4th huff. "baby, i've asked you maybe . . . six times what you want to do."

you used your core to pull yourself up to look at him. "and i told you i don't know! you invited me."

"wrong," he interjects. "if i'm correct, you begged me to let you come over."

"shh!" you threw the build-a-bear the two of you got together. to no surprise, he blocked it before it hit him. moments later you gasp as if you just had the greatest idea ever. you grab the bear next to him and place it in your lap.

"we should play two truths and a lie!" he hums in agreement to your request.

"okay i'll start! let me think..." you glance around the room and play with the arms of the bear as you think of something that might stump him.

"okay i got it!" you clear your throat for dramatic effect. "one, i've gotten lost inside the market for 3 hours," he snickers at this and you warn him to let you finish.

"stop! two, i skipped school for an entire week. three, i've never broken a bone." you lean forward towards him with a grin, "guess."

he brings his hand up to his face to think. sure it was a lot harder than he expected, but he knew you, and he certainly knew when you were lying.

"you've never skipped school for an entire week."

your jaw drops before turning into a grin again. "you cheated. i thought i was a good liar!"

"hate to break it to you, but you're not." you pretend to be offended by his words. "at least you're pretty." you're kicking your feet internally. geto will never fail to fluster you with his words.

"okay!! you go."

"alright. one, i hate pineapples. two, i play guitar. three, i can't swim."

you narrow your eyes at him, looking for any signs of a lie. "hmm."

"i'm gonna say you can't play guitar." he laughs at you and takes this as an opportunity to tease you. "babe? you must not know me at all.."

you raise an eyebrow and decided to recall a certain conversation with gojo, prior to you and geto's relationship.

"suguru can actually play guitar?" you asked as you fiddled with the strums.

gojo takes this as an opportunity to sabotage geto. "nah, that's just for show!" he glances over at his best friend who was sitting on a beanbag. "he uses that to impress the girls he'll never get," he leans over to nudge your shoulder.

he sent a cocky glare to geto to which he payed no mind.

"and you believed that idiot?"

you huff and move to sit next to him rather than across. "it seemed believable! and it was the first thing i thought of after hearing your answers."

"never trust a word that blue eyed idiot says."

"lesson learned," you say. "so which one was the lie?" he informs you that the lie was that he can't swim.

you burst out laughing. "really? but you look like you can't swim!"

"hey!" he raises his arms defensively. "just because i don't swim often doesn't mean i can't."

"yeah, yeah." your eyes dart over to the guitar he has sitting by the bookcase. he follows your gaze and lands on the target.

"what? you want me to serenade you or somethin'?" he grins. that actually didn't sound like a bad idea. "maybe." you look at one of the posters near the guitar and asks if he likes the band. he nodded and got up to reach for the guitar.

"ooooh, you gonna play for me loverboy?"

geto smirks as he picks up the guitar, "maybe i will, if you act right." you pretend to zip your lips and throw away the key.

you watch as his fingers glide and strum against the guitar, creating a tune that fills the room. his expression is one of concentration, which you admired with an adoring gaze.

you smile at him as he finishes and puts the guitar down and joins you back on the bed.

"sugu, i can't believe you didn't tell me!"

"thought you would've put two and two together after seeing the guitar in my room."

"i told you, gojo lied to me!" you scoff.

"yikes! horrible liar and horrible at detecting lies."

you huff and decide to lay down in a way to where you aren't facing him.

YOU

bitch ur a liar

GOJO

whaaatt? ^^

YOU

about sugurus guitar being "for show"

im like so pissed off at you im heavily embarrassed. i look like a shit s/o!!!

GOJO

LOL! my bad :P

you were about to respond when the sound of getos voice went to your ears. he seemed much closer than before. "you're not a shit partner"

"oh my god what the fuck!" you laugh. "when did you get behind me?"

"like, 10 seconds ago."

"nosy." you glare playfully.

he wrapped his arms around your waist and continued to watch whatever you did on your phone. at one point, you'd gotten sidetracked and picked up his hand to play with his fingers and the rings that were on them.

maybe you should've thanked gojo instead of cussing him out. you could give him credit for noticing how nice your boyfriends hands were, you suppose.

[eggluverz]

THE SWEETEST KISS

PAIRING. dan heng x gn!reader

GENRE. fluff, roommate au

WARNINGS. reader is shorter than dan heng

WORD COUNT. 1k

SUMMARY. in which dan heng is a bit of a grinch, but you need help setting up the mistletoe for your christmas party and dan heng simply cannot turn you down. 

A/N. happy holidays everyone !! :> is it too much to ask to spend the holiday szn with dan heng? :/ wishing and dreaming~ hope you enjoy this lil fluffy drabble!! xx sof

Dan Heng was uncertain on how he felt about the cold. 

On the one hand, the cold winter nights provided a great excuse for him to stay at home or in the library all day. On the other hand, he couldn’t say he was too fond of all the holiday festivities around the coldest times of year.

To him, they felt more like a celebration of capitalism and disposable income rather than a holiday with a purpose. Of course, him expressing his admittedly pessimistic sentiments ended up with you hanging a Grinch poster on his door. 

Dan Heng both laughed and sighed when he saw it. You always knew how to get under his skin with the right amount of playfulness that never made him grow annoyed. As his roommate, perhaps it was a special skill you had developed over the months. 

“Don’t worry. That’s just so people know not to go into your room or disturb you tomorrow,” you explained with a cheeky grin.

“Sure.”

“It is!”

You were currently setting up the decorations for your upcoming holiday party after begging Dan Heng for his permission to use the common areas of the apartment as a place to host for one night. And while you may have inadvertently called him a Grinch, he certainly had no interest in actually ruining your fun. So he gracefully agreed.

You were his roommate who paid half the rent after all. Of course he would agree to what you want, even if it was a cliche and over-the-top holiday party. And it certainly wasn’t just because he liked seeing you happy and cheerful.

That was simply one part of it.

As the day turned dark, Dan Heng sat on the couch while researching how food waste contributed to climate change to destress for the night. He looked up from his laptop after hearing a few thumps on the floor only to find you struggling to hang up a mistletoe on the tall entryway of the living room. 

He hid a smile of amusement as you jumped and missed.

“We have a step-ladder out in the patio,” he supplied.

You puffed your cheeks up and continued on your mission. “Yes, but that’s extra work and it’s easier like this.”

Once again, you jumped, this time almost reaching the doorframe, but alas, falling a few inches flat. As you fell, so did a fake berry on the mistletoe. The two of you watched as it rolled off the stem.

“Is that so?” challenged Dan Heng.

There was a pause as another berry fell off at your movements. “Maybe.”

After a few more moments of watching you struggle, Dan Heng finally got up from his seat and extended his hand out. You looked at him curiously.

“Let me help,” he coffered, gingerly taking the mistletoe from between his fingers. It was made of plastic and covered in red and green glitter. The single plastic berry left looked like it was about to fall off at any minute if you had attempted to launch it onto the entryway even one more time. 

Beside him, he heard a stifled laugh. “Touching it won’t poison you, you know?”

“Yes, but it certainly will cause glitter to stick to me for at least a week.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

He smiled.

You handed him a few pieces of tape as he stood on his tiptoes to place the mistletoe on the entryway.

“Do you think it’ll hold like this?” he asked.

“With enough tape, anything can be held together.”

Dan Heng wasn’t sure about your claim, but he nodded along nonetheless.

“Is this spot okay?” 

“Perfect!” you clapped your hands and beamed up at him, a look of pure joy on your face as you stared fondly at the added decoration. As he took his hand away from the heavily taped plant, the remaining berry fell from the mistletoe and landed right in-between the two of you.

Your smile didn’t waver as you pretended not to see it. 

“Super perfect!” you said as if you were trying to convince yourself. 

He chuckled. Christmas might be a cash grab holiday with low-quality decorations being sold wherever you look, but he didn’t mind it so much when he got to see you like cheerful this. 

“Thanks for your help, Dan Heng,” you said appreciatively, dusting the copious amounts of glitter off your fingers.

“You’re welcome.”

Your eyes darted around, zooming from the mistletoe on the ceiling then back to his face.

“Now, would you look at that,” you laughed sheepishly. “It seems we’re under a mistletoe. Does that mean we should…?”

“The mistletoe no longer has berries.” 

You blinked. “Sorry?”

Dan Heng breathed a noise of amusement. “The origins of the ‘kissing-under-the-mistletoe’ story includes taking the berries off the bush. For each kiss, a berry gets picked. When they run out, so does the kiss magic.” He gestured up at your fully green mistletoe. “No berries left here, therefore, there will be no bad luck if we don’t kiss.”

He saw the look of dejection on your face far before you covered it up with a laugh.

“Oh. Right!” You huffed and whispered under your breath, “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten the one on sale.” 

Dan Heng grinned as he realized the implication of your hidden words. “Holiday stories rise, we don’t need permission from a mistletoe to kiss.” 

Your eyes widened and the sad look on your face turned into one of hope and amusement. “I guess you’re right, but it does take away some of the holiday magic. Still, I suppose if I were to kiss you for the first time, I’d rather it not be due to the threat of bad luck from a mistletoe.”

His cheeks warmed as he nodded in response. “I agree.”

You giggled as you leaned in to kiss him, planting a gentle but firm kiss on his lips. Dan Heng smiled, returning one to you as well. He cherished the sound of the soft, happy sigh escaping your mouth, hoping this wouldn't be the last time he was allowed to witness it.

Mistletoe may be bitter and poisonous, but Dan Heng could safely say this was the sweetest kiss he has ever had. 

[dadsbongos]

ur reqs are open right??🥹

can i ask u for some yuji and flat gf reader fluff or anything ill take any crumbs🤌🤌

370 words - reader is called gf, brief insecurity, yuuji is a beam of sunshine as usual, not proofread ~~~

Walking into Yuuji’s room, you spot the stark change instantly, “Where is she?”

“Where’s who?” if you weren’t looking at Yuuji, you might be able to pass off the question as casual. But he’s staring at you wide-eyed, hands fidgeting in his sweatpants’ pockets.

“She,” you point at the sudden blank spot above his bed -- the poster his roommate Megumi always rolled his eyes over, “Where is she?”

“I took her down,” he scratches the back of his head, shrugging stiffly. You get the sense he didn’t really want to talk about it.

Too bad, though, “Because?”

“Because I just didn’t want her up anymore,” he moves past you, sitting on his bed and staring at the ground, “I have a big boy girlfriend now, so I felt weird having the poster up.”

You snort at his use of ‘big boy’ over, well, any descriptor more mature to describe your relationship, “Now I feel bad…”

“Don’t! I made the decision,” he grins suddenly, beckoning you over just to pull you to sit on his lap. Arms tight around your waist, “Now I can hang up a poster of <i>you</i>, huh?”

A bitter part of you scoffs, an old and rotten evil sector of your brain barks, “Yeah, like there’s anything to look at.”

“Hey!” he squeezes you, “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that. She’s very sexy, and she could kick your ass.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” you groan, rolling your head forward to rest on his shoulder, arms looping his neck, “You’re so corny.”

“If wanting a bikini picture of my girlfriend hanging in my room makes me corny, then maybe I should go to a farm.”

“What…?”

“I’ll be the whole field, babe. The entire crop supply of Japan.”

You roll your eyes fondly, “How sweet are you?”

“Sweet corn,” he hums, then huffs, “Now I’m hungry.”

“Oops.”

“Yeah, it’s all your fault,” he teases, “Now we have to go to dinner, oh no.”

You want to return the jabs, but his stomach loudly grumbling interrupts you. 

“No, seriously, let’s go eat,” Yuuji moves you off him as politely as possible, kissing your forehead before charging for his keys, “I’m actually starving.”

[romerona]

All Y/N ever wanted to do was sing her songs and be free. Yet somehow, after offering to pay for the meal of a certain boy in a straw hat she finds herself causing havoc through the East Blue.

Masterlist - Next.

Trigger warning: canon violence. Word count: 8K

A/N: The only thing I will be describing about Y/N is her hair colour. Everything else you can imagine her as you wish.

Disclaimer: The songs I will be using in this fic aren't mine bc I have 0 creativity. I'm sorry.

Middle of the ocean, Nami's boat.

"Sooner or later, I'll wander into the unknown

Sooner or later, you'll face the world on your own

Who will you hang to when you're left all alone?

When the night grows cold, and the winds have blown--"

"....give me some quiet and some space?"

Nami's annoyed voice made Y/N look up from her booklet to Luffy chasing after his hat, it came right to where he was sitting at the nose of the boat. So, she simply stretched her arm to catch it just before it could fly away.

"Here," Y/N gave the thankful Luffy his hat back who took it with a small smile while mumbling his gratitude.

"Not cool," Luffy then turned to Nami, more serious than Y/N had ever seen him be. "Don’t mess with my hat."

"Why do you care so much about that hat anyway?" Y/N asks, glancing back down at her notes.

"Yeah, It looks like you fished it out of the trash," Nami added as she continued to try and unlock the safe.

Luffy smiles down his straw hat "One man’s trash is another man’s treasure."

"That still doesn't answer the question, stud."

Zoro groans inside the cabin, "Will you three knock it off? I’m trying to take a nap."

"Oh, I’m sorry," Nami said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Were we interrupting your beauty sleep?"

"Don’t like what you see? Look away."

Y/N chuckles at the response, however, her laughter is interrupted by the sound of the lock clicking making her snap her head towards Nami who was opening the door of the safe.

"You did it," Luffy exclaimed.

"Holy shit," Y/N swiftly stands and makes her way to stand next to Nami. She smiles at the orange-haired girl, "You actually did it, Pumpik."

They all looked down at the inside of the safe and it's content. Y/N was a little disappointed there wasn't anything special in it, not treasures one assumes a safe would keep, instead, there were some confidential files and a wanted poster for a pirate named Kuro. And then there was the golden map tube, the only valuable thing.

Nami reaches over and takes it. She hastily takes the top off and pulls out the map causing Y/N to let out a breathy sigh.

"That’s it?" Zoro deadpanned unimpressed by the findings, "Isn’t there supposed to be gold inside a safe? Or jewels?"

Nami looks at the green-haired boy in disbelief, "This is more valuable than gold. It’s knowledge. This is a map to the Grand Line."

"The Grand Line. Ah," Luffy, with his usual smile, stares at the map in Nami's hands."The Grand Line is just right… Where is it exactly?"

Y/N looks at the boy with narrow confused eyes, "Seriously?"

"You’re going there, but you don’t know where it is?" Sharing Y/N's thoughts, Nami asks.

"Guess I need a navigator on my crew," Luffy stated grinning at Nami.

"Oh, god," Y/N mumbles, cursing herself for being so stupid to think Luffy could take her to The Grand Line. Maybe she can steal the map at some point or draw a copy and go herself.... thought going solo wasn't a great idea. Not when ghosts continue to hunt for her.

They follow Nami inside the small cabin.

"The seas are divided into four quadrants." Nami grabs some chalk and starts drawing down on the hanging table. "East Blue, North Blue, West, South. This thin strip of land that circles the globe is called the Red Line, and this band across the middle is the Grand Line."

"A treacherous stretch of ocean with bigger islands, bigger cities, bigger pirates. Flush with riches and ripe for the picking." Nami grins.

Y/N regards the drawing with a soft frown as she recalls her past "And way more dangerous..."

"That’s where we’re gonna find the One Piece!" Luffy exclaims.

"I’ve taken out a lot of pirates looking for that thing," Zoro says before asking. "What is it? Like, a big diamond or something?"

"It’s Gold Roger’s treasure," Luffy told him. ""He hid it somewhere in the Grand Line. All in one piece."

"It’s a myth. The reason no one’s found it in 22 years is that it doesn’t exist." Nami says with exasperation.

"Reckon he just said it to piss off the Marines," Y/N hums, "Admirable."

Luffy grins at the girls. "Can’t wait to see the look on your faces when we find it."

"If you find it you mea--"

The sound of an explosion cut Y/N off sending all four of them into alarm mode.

"Is that the Marines?" Zoro asks placing his hands on his katanas.

Y/N quickly pulls her war-fans from her skirt. "Shit. Are they?"

They walk out to the deck. Nami mumbles "How did they find us?"

Y/N looks up with a frown for from the skies, some red dust falls upon them, slowly enveloping them. She was begging to feel dizzy, and very sleepy... with dread, Y/N realized what it was. This has been used on her before.

Nami was out first.

"This smoke smells weird," Luffy mumbles, feeling the effects of the dust.

Zoro was next.

"Luffy, the ma..." Before she could finish she felt the world went dark.

Y/N's bare feet danced across the warm sand, her laughter mingling with the gentle lapping of the waves. With each step, she felt the freedom of the island envelop her, a secret sanctuary where worries vanished like mist under the morning sun. She glanced back, her eyes alight with mischief as she spotted her much younger sister, Miri, darting through the bustling market stalls.

"Come on, Miri! You'll never catch me!" Y/N called, her voice carried away by the salty breeze.

Miri's laughter bubbled forth, a melody that echoed Y/N's joy. With a determined grin, Miri chased after her sister, her small legs propelling her forward with unbridled enthusiasm. The market around teemed with life, vendors hawking their wares beneath colourful awnings, the air rich with the scent of spices and freshly caught fish.

Dodging between crates of exotic fruits and stalls piled high with vibrant fabrics, the two little girls raced through the people with loud laughter.

As they emerged onto a sun-drenched promenade, Y/N slowed her pace, allowing Miri to draw closer. She turned to face her sister, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Think you can keep up, fish-legs?"

Miri grinned, her round cheeks flushed with exertion. "Just you wait, Y/N! I'll beat you yet!"

With a mischievous wink, Y/N took off again, her laughter trailing behind her like a comet's tail. The younger girl followed in hot pursuit, their laughter intermingling with the sounds of the island—a symphony of joy and freedom that echoed across the sun-kissed shores.

The girls skidded to a halt in a quaint courtyard nestled amidst the bustling village. The air was redolent with the aroma of freshly baked bread and spices, luring them to pause and savour the moment. They settled onto a weathered bench, their breath coming in exhilarated gasps as they gazed around, taking in the vibrant tapestry of island life.

"Y/N/N, you think Mama would let me take one of those landfolk trinkets back home?" Miri exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with delight as she bit into a juicy slice of tropical fruit.

Y/N thought for a moment. Her parents were in an important meeting of some sort, she recalls them quietly speaking about the World Government declaration that was supposed to be out that afternoon, they sounded worried but Y/N had no idea why. "Maybe, depending on the trinket can withstand being in the water for long,"

"It's one of those dolls," Miri mumbles

"Those are made with fabric," Y/N shakes her head, "She won't let you,"

Miri pouts and deflates. Not liking seeing her younger sister sad, Y/N purses her lips in thought, when an idea hits her.

"Maybe not a doll but she can let us take one of these shiny stones. You like those, right?"

"Oh, yes," Miri smiles, "The stones with crystals inside of them, those are pretty..."

Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden commotion in the distance—a chorus of shouts and panicked cries that shattered the tranquillity of the courtyard. People began to scatter, their faces etched with fear as they fled back towards the ocean.

"What's happening, Y/N?" Miri's voice trembled with uncertainty as they were swept up in the frantic throng of people.

Y/N heart skipped a beat as she glanced around, her senses on high alert. People were scattering in every direction, their voices rising in panic as a wave of fear swept through the village like wildfire. Without hesitation, she grabbed her sister's hand, her grip tight with determination.

"We need to find-"

As if on cue, their father appeared, his brow furrowed with worry as he rushed towards them. Without a word, he took hold of Y/N's hand and began to guide them through the throngs of panicked villagers, his grip firm and unwavering.

"Stay close, girls," he urged, his voice tinged with urgency.

"Papa, what's going on?" Y/N asked, her voice wavering with concern.

Their father's expression was grim as he gathered them close, his hands firm yet gentle as he began to guide them towards the beach where their mother was anxiously waiting for them. "There's danger, my pearls. We must go to safety."

The sisters exchanged a worried glance, their steps quickening as they followed their father through the labyrinthine streets. The distant roar of the ocean grew louder with each passing moment, a reminder of the peril lurking just beyond the tranquil facade of the island...

When Y/N first woke up, she was confused.

"What...?" She looked around noticing the others were just as confused as she was. Then she noticed the box they were all in. Her heart began to race.

"They took my swords," Zoro grumbles once he notices the missing weight.

Nami groans noticing they took something away from her too. "And my rucksack, ugh, with all my navigation gear."

"And my fans..." Y/N mumbles, quickly standing up. Ignoring the rest, she reaches to place a hand on the hard wooden wall, "No, no, no..."

Her hands scrabbled against the rough walls, searching for any means of escape. Splinters dug into her skin, but she hardly noticed amidst the rising tide of fear. Memories flooded back, memories she had long tried to bury— The air was stale, each inhale felt like a struggle, as if the very act of breathing was a battle against the confines of the box.

"Hey," A raspy familiar voice said as a large hand landed on her shoulder but it swiftly slapped it off.

"Don't touch me," Y/N snaps as she continues to desperately look for a way out. "No. Not again, please,"

Suddenly, she flinches at the sound of someone next to her banging on the wooden walls.

"Stop." Y/N faintly heard Nami hiss. "Stop that."

"What? I’m trying to find a way out." The same raspy voice said. It was Zoro.

"We’ve been captured. We need a plan." Nami tells them.

"No, fuck no," Y/N continues to look for a way out, this time, however, she starts to push against the wooden wall.

"I just need to beat the hell out of every Marine I see," Zoro agrees.

"Hey, everyone, relax," Luffy, like Zoro, places a hand on Y/N's shoulders only to be slapped off. "We’re fine."

"We’re not fine. The Marines will throw us in jail if we’re lucky." Nami says. "Execute us if they don’t"

"They… they are not Marines. Before I got knocked out, I saw a Jolly Roger. We’ve been captured by pirates."

No...

Y/N stopped her attempts as Images flashed through her mind—memories of past suffocation, of being trapped in tight spaces. Panic gripped her like a vice, squeezing tighter with each passing moment.

Time lost meaning as Y/N battled against the relentless grip of fear. Minutes stretched into hours, each second dragging by with excruciating slowness. Her throat began to close, and her body started trembling with exhaustion and terror.

"That’s much better news."

"No, he’s right," Zoro said, he stepped a little closer to Y/N, and she was painfully aware and utterly horrified. "Marines have training. Pirates are easier to kill."

"Shanks used to say not every situation can be solved with violence," Luffy told them.

"Who the hell is Shanks?"

"We don’t need to fight. I can talk to them," Luffy shakes his head with a grin, "Pirate to pirate."

Y/N would have laughed at the idea of reasoning with a Pirate hadn't she been in the starters of a hysteria attack.

"That won’t work." Nami said

"Why not?"

"To start, you’re not a pirate."

" Yes, I am."

"No," Nami said looking at Luffy, "You are some stretchy guy in a tattered hat."

"I’m a different kind of pirate," Luffy stated, optimism practically oozing out of him.

"Pirates are pirates. There’s only one kind."

That is true. Pirates are all foul, soulless creatures... another wave of memories flooded her brain. Y/N closed her eyes, willing herself to find some semblance of calm amidst the chaos of her mind. But even in the darkness behind her eyelids, the walls of the box loomed large, a constant reminder of her imprisonment.

But just when she felt herself on the brink of surrender, the top of the box opened forcing Y/N to snap open. Music began to fill her ears, an odd spectacle of dancing... clowns? began to surround them once all the walls of the box were pulled apart.

Y/N, finally being able to breathe properly, watches as people in costumes do flips and tricks around them. She glances at her surroundings. This was a circus. Why were they in a circus? The people on the stats started to clap, Y/N frowned as she watched the tears of fear in some of those people. Isn't a circus supposed to be fun?

"No. No, no, no, no," A man or rather a clown with blue and a red nose, shouting prompting everyone to stop the show. "Stop clapping! No, stop! It’s all wrong!"

"The spotlight was late. You completely missed my entrance." He motions for the light to go from the four of them to him. Then he turns his attention to the man dressed in a bear costume who is terrified of the clown. "And where, oh, where was the dancing lion?"

"Hey, I know you," Luffy earned the clown's attention. "I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town. You’re the clown guy. Um, uh… Binky, right?"

"Buggy," The clown with blue hair corrected and to Y/N's surprise, he kept going. "Buggy the Clown. Buggy, the Flashy Fool. Buggy, the Genius Jester."

"Wow. You have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are." Luffy said impressed but his words earned a gasp from the audience confusing the four of them.

"What did you just say?" Buggy deadpanned.

Luffy, none the wiser, repeats "Just that everyone knows who you are-"

"Nose?!" Buggy exclaims rushing to clasp Luffy's face in his hand, squeezing. The clown's crew step forward, holding their weapons, looking weirdly intimidating. "Are you making fun of my nose?"

Y/N, despite the dangerous situation, was baffled for a moment. She subtly regards Buggy's nose. Was that actually his real nose?? Oh, it was. Woah.

"Well… I wasn’t. But now that you mention it, is that thing for real?" Luffy lifts a hand to touch the clown's nose but he quickly slaps it away, making the audience gasp.

"What’s real is I’ve been scheming for months," The clown pushes Luffy away, and Y/N who was just behind him manages to catch him. She turns as Buggy stands in front of Nami, "To steal that map from old Axe-Hand Moron…"

"Eh?" He waits for an acknowledgement or reaction from the orange-haired girl but when he realises he is getting none he waves a dismissive hand and turns back to the others. "…only to find out that I was upstaged by four little nobodies, who stole it from right out under my no- No! It’s in my head now."

"Ah!" Buggy groans with exasperation moving away. "

"Hey, I’m not a nobody," Luffy said, once again successfully gaining the clown pirate's attention. "I’m Monkey D. Luffy. And I will be King of the Pirates."

Y/N had to give it to Luffy. His determination was so outstanding that even in such a dire situation it wouldn't break, however, she couldn't decide yet if it was stupidity or courage.

Buggy lets out a laugh, "Oh! Now that’s funny."

One of his crew members holds up a sign, forcing the audience to laugh. Well, that's depressing, can't imagine being a clown and having to force people to laugh.

Buggy motions for the laughing to halt. He moves, looking in between them as he speaks;

"My bounty poster graces the marquee of every Marine outpost for miles. And my menagerie of outcasts and freaks is the most dreaded pirate crew the East Blue has ever known. I am destined to find the One Piece. And when I do… I will be king."

"No, you won’t, ’cause I’m gonna find it first." Luffy contradicted the clown.

It's stupidity, Y/N decided.

"You?" Buggy scoffs, "Don’t make me laugh."

One crew member holds the sign again, and the audience laughs but they are soon yelled at to stop.

"I said don’t make me laugh!!!"

"All right, listen up. I’m Roronoa Zoro," Zoro spoke up, loud enough to gather everyone's attention. He turns to face Buggy and his crew. "Drop your weapons now and I may let you live."

Y/N has half a mind to yell at him asking what the fuck he was doing. Did he honestly think he could fight against all of these pirates? He doesn't even have his swords.

Buggy stares for a moment before letting out a mocking laugh. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a celebrity in our midst."Ladies and gentlemen, we have a celebrity in our midst. Too bad I hate sharing the spotlight."

The stage light went from them back to Buggy.

"Now, maybe we should skip right to the finale," The clown pulls out his weapon. A very intimidating metal sharp claws. "My freaks put quite a bit of rehearsal time into this little abduction. And if I can’t reward them with that map…" He moves to stand next to a man with sharp teeth. "I suppose I’ll have to offer them a pound of flesh instead."

Oh, shit. shit this. This is bad. Like BAD bad. Bad enough for her to manipulate her way out of it, but for that she'll need to get the clown alo-

"Wait. Wait." Nami was standing in front of them, looking to make some sort of negotiation with the clown. "What if I have something else to offer you? Something more valuable than the map?"

That seems to gather a newfound interest in the pirate, who looks at nami in expectation.

"What if I give you an entertainer, a singer, the best I've ever heard," Nami said casting a quick glance in her way. Y/N's heart plummeted. No, she couldn't be doing that to her. Her heart sank even lower when Buggy's gaze shifted towards her, his blue eyes gleaming when he caught her form.

"And a new freak for your crew?" Nami continues, forcing the clown to look away. She was slowly moving next to Luffy, "A rare talent. The most spectacular act in all of the East Blue. Besides you, of course."

"Go on."

Nami takes Luffy's hat prompting a shout from the boy, she tosses it up into the air making Luffy use his devil fruit abilities and stretch his arm up high to catch the hat. And then, Nami was gone.

"Go after her," Buggy told one of his crew members who quickly ran after the orange-haired girl. He chuckles, looking at Luffy. He pulls out an apple from his pocket and a knife. "Well, isn't this just interesting?"

Y/N felt a surge of protest rising within her, a desire to shout out against the unfolding situation. Yet, she found herself engulfed in a sense of hopelessness, a feeling all too familiar from her past experiences. She knew well the torment of being confined within the hold of a pirate.

"It's fine," she whispered to herself, trying to muster some semblance of reassurance. I'll… I'll be fine. Despite her inner turmoil, she clung to a last resort—a secret move, a tactic she had saved for dire circumstances. All she needed was to find a moment alone with Buggy.

They soon bring a struggling Nami and a part of her is happy they did another part of her is annoyed she sells them out and still fails to escape.

"What did you do? What did you do to their town? You destroyed everything!" Nami exclaimed in anger.

As he ate the apple, Buggy nonchalantly replied, "Not everything. I let ’em keep their hands."

The signs were up again and the audience clapped in command.

"Okay," The clown throws away the remains of the apple and puts the knife back into his coat. "Here end the theatrics."

Suddenly, the lights flickered and dimmed until they focused solely on Buggy's figure, casting an eerie glow around him. His voice cut through the darkness with a sharp edge.

"I know one of you has my map," he declared, his tone laced with determination. "And I'm gonna get it back. What was it you said, Rubber Boy? That it was in a safe place?"

The tension in the air heightened as everyone present awaited Buggy's next move.

"Don’t look so surprised. I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere," Buggy told the four of them with a smile, "So, please make our guests uncomfortable in the green room."

As two pirates seized Y/N from behind, she instinctively struggled against their grasp, her heart pounding in her chest. Nami too fought against her captors, but Zoro remained passive, seemingly indifferent to their plight. Just as they were about to drag Y/N away, the clown intervened.

"Not her," Buggy's voice commanded, halting the pirates in their tracks. They obediently turned Y/N to face their captain, whose blue eyes bore into her with a curious intensity. He closed the distance between them, his presence looming over her.

"Just for you, beautiful," Buggy addressed her, a smirk playing on his lips, "I'm willing to share my spotlight for a few moments and let you sing for us while my 'freaks' prepare the things for my chat with my stretchy new pal."

"Why would I?" Y/N retorted, summoning whatever semblance of courage she could muster to meet the clown's gaze. Ignoring the pirates that were dragging Luffy to sit with the audience. "I only sing when I have something to sing for…"

"Funny you think you have a choice," Buggy chuckled mischievously, his tone dripping with amusement, the sign was up so, naturally the audience laughed as well. He sauntered over to a high chair, resembling a throne, and settled into it with an air of superiority.

"Well, it's either that," he continued, gesturing towards Y/N, "or off with you. Though," he added with a smirk, "it'll be a shame to harm such a pretty girl like yourself."

His words hung in the air, a thinly veiled threat that left Y/N feeling trapped and vulnerable, caught between compliance and defiance.

Despite the overwhelming intimidation, Y/N took a moment to steady her breathing and gather her resolve. Nami was right about one thing – she was an entertainer, a performer. With that realization, a flicker of determination ignited within her.

With a deep breath, Y/N straightened her posture and let a confident smile grace her lips. She could do this. She could fake her charm, her confidence. After all, she had faced tough crowds before. This was just another performance, albeit under much more dire circumstances.

Y/N flashed a charming grin at Buggy, exuding confidence as the impromptu show began.

"Well, darling," she purred, her voice dripping with charisma, "lucky for you, I happen to have had my heart stomped a few days ago. You don't happen to have a guitar lying around, do you?"

Buggy's grin widened, and with a casual wave of his hand, a guitar was swiftly presented to her. As the rest of the crew dispersed, leaving her alone in the spotlight, Buggy's voice carried a warning tone.

"Don't make me regret giving you a share of my spotlight, sweetheart," he cautioned, his words tinged with a hint of threat.

Y/N meets Buggy's warning with a playful glint in her eye, maintaining her charismatic demeanor.

"Oh, don't you worry, Captain," she replies smoothly, her voice dripping with charm. "I'll make sure to dazzle everyone enough to ensure you shine even brighter. After all, what's a spotlight without a little sparkle, right?"

Without missing a beat, Y/N pivots gracefully, turning her attention to the assembled audience with a grin that belies the tension of the situation. With ease, she addresses them as if they were any other crowd, temporarily forgetting the dire circumstances of their gathering.

"Well, well, well. Looks like we've got ourselves a full house, don't we?" she declares with a playful sparkle in her eyes, her voice projecting warmth and enthusiasm despite the unsettling circumstances.

"Ah, the joys of a heartbreak!" Y/N's grin takes on a mischievous edge as she continues, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"As you may have heard," she begins, her tone dripping with theatrical flair, "some clueless boy managed to break this ol' heart of mine. But fear not, for in the face of heartache, what does a songbird do? Why, she writes a song, of course!"

Pausing for dramatic effect, she lets a playful wink slip before continuing, "Sadly, it seems our heartbreaker won't have the pleasure of hearing it. But don't worry, my captive audience, for you lucky souls get a front-row seat to the grand performance!"

Her words draw a ripple of shy, soft laughter from the crowd, turning this sombre moment into a somewhat of lighthearted affair. Her eyes meet Luffy's browns for a moment, he seems to pay her his all attention.

With a graceful motion, Y/N turns her attention to the guitar, her fingers deftly plucking a few strings. The sound resonates through the room, filling the air with a gentle melody that carries hints of both melancholy and resolve.

" When as a wanderer, your shore I did find,

Adrift, I found refuge in arms so kind,

We braved the tempest, each in our own fights,

You sought fortune in shadows, while I relied on my charms

I danced with the night, whispered secrets to the moon,

You chased after gold, while I sang my tune

We wanted to forget our woes and drown them in our wine

Then one day you vanished, claiming I was not divine,"

As she plays, her gaze flickers between the strings and the captivated audience, her expression a mix of concentration and subtle charisma. Each note she strikes seems to weave a tale of heartache and resilience, drawing the audience deeper into the performance with every strum.

I saw you at your lowest, in your darkest fight

I know the struggles hidden from plain sight

Too bad I'm the love you lost, the bond you breached

Now what'll you do, when I'm gone evermore?"

As Y/N finishes the song, a hush falls over the room, the echoes of her performance lingering in the air like a haunting melody. In that suspended moment, time seems to stand still, every eye in the room fixated on Buggy, waiting for his reaction, well, except for Luffy, he was the only one giving a standing ovation.

"Wooh, yeah!" Luffy claps, a smile on his face as he turns to one of the pirates holding him. "That's my musician,"

Y/N, however, ignore him and turn to Buggy.

Y/N meets his piercing blue gaze, searching for any hint of emotion within them, but finds his expression inscrutable, a mask of unreadable intent. There's a tension in the air, palpable and electric, as the weight of the silence stretches on, leaving everyone on edge.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Buggy breaks the silence with a slow, deliberate clap, his expression betraying nothing but a hint of amusement. It's a subtle gesture, but it breaks the tension in the room. The sign to clap was up but Y/N has a feeling they would've clapped regardless. It's a moment of relief for Y/N, who can't help but feel a sense of validation wash over her.

"It seems orange-hair was not lying, huh?" Buggy remarks, his tone carrying a hint of sardonic amusement. The cheers stop at his command.

Y/N lets out a forced chuckle, her lips curling into a wry smile as she meets Buggy's gaze.

"Well, what can I say?" she quips with a hint of playful sarcasm, "I did promise not to disappoint, didn't I? And trust me, darling, I always keep my promises, even when it involves serenading a bunch of pirates in a not-so-friendly setting."

Buggy's chuckle sends a shiver down Y/N's spine as he rises from his seat and advances towards her. Y/N fights to conceal the tremor of intimidation that courses through her, maintaining a facade of composure as he leans in to whisper.

"You could make a wonderful addition to my crew," he murmurs, his voice low and tinged with an air of intrigue. “Irreplaceable, even.”

While the idea of joining his crew fills her with trepidation and disgust, she knows better than to outright reject him, especially considering his unpredictable nature. Like most men.

With a steady gaze and a flicker of determination in her eyes, Y/N meets Buggy's gaze, her voice steady as she replies, "Well, Captain, it's certainly a tempting offer. But you'll have to forgive me if I take a moment to weigh my options. After all, I'm not one to jump ship without careful consideration."

Buggy regards her for a moment, then he smiles as he pulls back. His smile sends a shiver down Y/N's spine, but she maintains her facade of composure as he pulls back, granting her a temporary reprieve.

"Alright, I'll give you time to think it over…" he concedes, his tone deceptively genial.

Y/N's heart sinks as she watches him walk over to where Luffy is, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach. Before she can react, two pirates seize her again.

"Until he gives me my map, that is," Buggy adds casually, his words a stark reminder of the precarious position Y/N finds herself in.

As the pirates begin to drag her away, Y/N's heart pounds with a mixture of fear and determination. She casts a fleeting glance back at Luffy, a silent vow forming in her mind to find a way out of this predicament.

Soon, she was being tied down into a chair.

"Fuck you, Nami," Y/N spat out her frustration as soon as the pirates left them alone, her tone tinged with irritation. "Why would you do that?"

Inside her cage, Nami rolled her eyes in response. "It's survival of the fittest out here, Y/N," she retorted, her voice laced with resignation.

Y/N can't help but roll her eyes in return. She knows that in this cutthroat world, everyone looks out for themselves, but she had foolishly hoped for some semblance of a relationship with Nami only to be sorely disappointed.

"The least you could've done was actually manage to actually escape. You sold us in vain." Y/N chastised with a disapproving tsk.

"For what it's worth," Nami glanced towards the entrance of the crew's dressing rooms before skillfully picking the lock of her cage. "I am trying to get us out."

Y/N narrowed her eyes, unsure whether to trust Nami's words. Turning to Zoro, who was bound to a circular board nearby, she asked, "Do you believe her?"

"Don't have much of a choice," Zoro replies with a nonchalant shrug, just as a loud shout from outside makes them all snap their heads towards the entrance. It's Luffy's voice. "Better work faster."

As Y/N tries to free herself from the bounds, she realises that she's worried about Luffy because, despite his exasperating antics and seemingly reckless behaviour, she can't help but feel a pang of worry for him.

The bounds were tight but not enough to cut circulation just tight enough to leave burn marks when she moved them too much which she does.

Feeling the burn of the tight bounds against her skin, Y/N winced but pressed on, determined to free herself.

"That's only hurting you," Nami said sparing Y/N a glance before continuing to pick her lock.

Nami's words of caution brought a moment of pause, but Y/N couldn't afford to let fear hold her back. "I'll be fine,"

Nami rolls her eyes, then she glances at Zoro, he, too was trying to free himself.

 "What?" The boy asks.

Nami continues with her work, "This is my life now."

"You want to trade places?"

"Both of you shut up," There was a rustling sound just making its way to them, "Shit. Someone’s coming."

Nami stops her work and looks at the entrance. "I need more time. Keep them talking."

"I don’t talk." Zoro said, "I hit things."

"I'll do it," Y/N announced.

Seconds later, a pirate with a striking mix of black and white hair and a blue and white square pattern scarf bursts into the room, riding his monocycle with an air of undeniable flair. He comes to a stop right in front of Zoro, his gaze fixed firmly on the bound swordsman.

Y/N, who would have found the scene comical under different circumstances, straightens up, suppressing the urge to laugh. Instead, she puts on her best flirtatious grin and clears her throat, preparing to address the newcomer.

"Hey there, handsome," Y/N begins, her voice dripping with playful charm. "I bet your captain's got you on a tight leash, but do you think you could...?"

"Shut up, whore!" The pirate said not taking his eyes off Zoro.

Y/N's jaw was on the floor. Well, that came out of nowhere.

"I'm not an expert but I'm sure you don't talk to ladies like that," Zoro, ever nonchalant, unexpectedly comes to her defense, much to Y/N's surprise.

The pirate disregards Zoro and instead questions, "Remember me?"

"No. Must be some other homicidal, unicycle-riding clown." Zoro mocks.

Y/N flinches as the pirate with black and white hair delivers a punch to Zoro's stomach.

"I've been thinking about you for years," the pirate hisses, his voice dripping with resentment. "About how you killed my brother."

"I killed a lot of pirates." Zoro deadpanned.

The pirate, named Cabaji, scowls as he begins to recount their past encounter. "My name is Cabaji, and a couple of years back, you hunted us across the Goa Kingdom," he explains, pulling out two knives. ""Followed us for weeks through the swamp lands, day and night, never relenting, like some kind of demon."

The three of them shared a look. A silent understanding between them. This was it, the distraction. Cabaji glances at the two girls as he backs away from Zoro.

"Still not ringing a bell," Zoro remarks casually, prompting Cabaji to throw a knife dangerously close to his head.

"You cut off his head and you stuffed it in a bag, all for a few Berry." Cabaji accuses, his voice heavy with accusation.

Zoro sighs, briefly closing his eyes before conceding, "Okay, that does sound like me."

The air becomes thick with tension as the two men lock gazes, the looming threat of violence hanging between them.

"Let's see if you can keep your head," Cabaji declares, moving to the side of the circular structure and spinning it, taking Zoro along for the ride.

With each knife thrown, Y/N can't help but avert her eyes, unable to witness the imminent danger befalling the swordsman. As minutes tick by and Y/N finally dares to steal a glance at Zoro, she's taken aback by his unwavering composure. Despite the imminent threat of the spinning structure and the barrage of knives, Zoro remains eerily calm, his expression betraying no hint of fear or panic.

Watching him close his eyes and maintain his stoic demeanor in the face of danger, Y/N can't help but feel a surge of admiration mingled with astonishment. It shouldn't surprise her, knowing Zoro's reputation for unshakeable resolve, but somehow it does.

Y/N shifts her gaze to Nami, and in that brief exchange of eye contact, a silent understanding passes between them. She's close to opening the lock.

"You really don’t fear death, do you?" Cabaji asks after his tenth throw.

"No," Zoro said as the structure came to a halt, "I just don’t fear you."

Cabaji throws yet another knife before approaching Zoro "You know, I’m gonna enjoy this. As soon as Captain Buggy’s finished with you, you’re mine."

"Uh, tempting as that sounds, I’m not sticking around." Zoro slowly opens his eyes and focuses on the pirate.

"Really? Got somewhere else to be?"

"Didn’t used to think so. But Luffy changed that." Zoro said.

"That simpleton in a straw hat." Cabaji scoffs, "Don’t tell me you actually believe in him?"

"I don’t need to. He believes in himself." Zoro admits and shrugs, "It rubs off."

As Nami swiftly and silently cuts Y/N's bonds, relief floods through her as she rubs her sore wrists. With newfound freedom, she wastes no time positioning herself behind Cabaji, who is too engrossed in Zoro's words to notice her approach.

"And one more thing."

Cabaji continues to laugh as Zoro warns him.

"Don’t turn around."

In a split second, Y/N seizes the opportunity, delivering a powerful punch straight to Cabaji's nose. The force of the blow sends him staggering backwards. With Cabaji momentarily stunned, Zoro takes advantage, freeing one of his arms to grab hold of the pirate's throat, applying pressure with a steely grip while Nami frees his other arm.

"And by the way, you're brother's the whore," Y/N said to the Cabaji just moments before the pirate passed out.

"What's the plan?" Asks Zoro, retreating his swords.

Y/N takes hold of her war fans. "We go for Luffy,"

"Yeah but how?" Zoro turns to Nami, "You do have a plan, right? That’s your thing, plans."

"I say we beat the hell out of every clown we see." Nami declares, her eyes flickering between them mischievously as she brandishes her fighting stick.

Y/N chuckles in agreement, elegantly fanning her fans to reveal the gleaming blades within. "Well, isn't that a delightful idea," she quips with a smirk. "I've always had a knack for cutting through the foolery."

With a wink exchanged between Y/N and Zoro, a shared understanding passing between them, Zoro chuckles before they both follow Nami out.

As they navigate through the chaos of the circus tent, the trio encounters a shower of fools intent on blocking them. With a seamless display of skill and coordination, they engage the freaks in a fight.

Nami leads the charge, her fighting sticks a blur as she deflects incoming blows and delivers precise strikes. Each swing is calculated, each movement fluid and efficient as she exploits weaknesses in the clown's defences.

Beside her, Zoro moves with the grace of a great swordsman, his swords lethal as he cuts through the ranks of clowns with unmatched precision. His strikes are powerful and decisive, each blow landing with devastating force as he clears a path forward.

And Y/N adds her own flair to the fray, her fans flashing in the dim light of the tent as she gracefully dances between pirates. With a flick of her wrist, she spreads the fans, revealing the razor-sharp blades concealed within. Each movement is deliberate, and calculated, as she gracefully weaves through the chaos of the fight effortlessly dispatching any clown foolish enough to challenge her.

As they finally reach the main stage, Y/N's heart lurches at the sight before her. There, in the center of the stage, Luffy struggles against the confines of a tank filled with water. Memories flood Y/N's mind, images of a similar tank from her past flashing before her eyes with haunting clarity.

She tries to hold back a shudder as the familiar dread grips her, threatening to overwhelm her senses. The sight of Luffy, trapped and struggling, serves as a painful reminder, stirring emotions that she had long tried to bury but with a deep breath, Y/N pushes aside the memories, focusing instead on the task at hand.

With a swift and precise throw, Nami hurls her fighting stick towards the tank, the impact causing the glass to crack and splinter. Y/N watches with bated breath as the cracks spiderweb across the surface, spreading like veins of ice.

"Where are my freaks?" Buggy exclaimed looking around the circus.

Zoro appears on the other end, holding his two swords. "They're not coming,"

Finally, the tank gave way with a resounding crash. As the glass shatters, water gushes forth in a torrent, cascading to the ground in a rush of freedom letting Luffy out and soaking Buggy to the ground.

After he inhales some air, Luffy exhales the map. Ugh!

"My map!" Buggy crawls to the map.

Luffy, on the other hand, "My hat!"

Y/N turned her gaze towards the laughing clown, he took hold of the map while Luffy was hugging his hat. With careful steps, the trio approaches him.

"You want a piece of me?" The clown challenges them once he notices their approach. "Let’s see what you got."

Without hesitation, Zoro lunges forward, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. But to their astonishment, the clown doesn't fall. Instead, he splits into pieces, his laughter ringing out triumphantly as he effortlessly reassembles himself.

"Surprise, shithead!" Buggy crows with glee, his laughter echoing through the chaos.

Y/N, Zoro and Nami gather together as Buggy manically laughing starts to split himself into more pieces.

"What the hell?" Y/N yells as Buggy's body parts begin to fly around them.

Zoro's brow furrows in frustration as he watches the spectacle. "How do I slice a guy who's already in pieces?"

"This is not part of the plan," Nami grits her teeth, holding tightly to her fighting stick.

With a grunt of frustration, Y/N pushes away a stray hand that reaches for her, her mind racing as she tries to formulate a strategy amidst the chaos. "Yeah, no shit."

Despite their best efforts, the trio find themselves quickly overwhelmed by the onslaught of flying body parts. Zoro is slammed against the tank, Nami is hurled off the stage, and Y/N is sent crashing into a pile of crates, pain shooting through her side as she struggles to regain her footing amidst the chaos.

"Fuck," She hisses, placing a hand on the sore spot. She braces herself up watching as Buggy pulls out his metallic claws and slices himself again.

"Chop-Chop Cannon!!" His hands and arms start to rotate while his legs start to fly about in chaos.

Luffy does his best to dodge and punch and actually manages to reach Buggy but is soon pushed off him. The claws though, do manage to get Luffy's straw hat.

Buggy laughs and when Luffy goes to recollect his hat he is tripped and pushed to the ground.

Y/N's heart pounds with panic as she watches Buggy's hand find its way to Luffy's throat, threatening to choke the life out of him. In a desperate bid to save Luffy, she scans the area for anything that could aid them in their fight.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, inspiration strikes. With a quick glance at the crates nearby, Y/N's mind races with a plan.

"Luffy, Nami. The crates!" Y/N shouts, her voice cutting through the chaos as she rushes to one and flings it open.

With lightning-fast reflexes, Luffy manages to break free from Buggy's grasp, tearing the hand off his throat and hurling it towards Nami. Acting on instinct, Nami uses her fighting stick to send Buggy's hand hurtling towards the open crate, which Y/N swiftly closes, trapping the appendage inside.

One by one, the four of them began to trap the clown's body parts inside the boxes until only his head, hands and feet were all he had.

"What have you done to me?"

Luffy grins, "Cut you down to size."

"The One Piece will never be yours." Buggy all but growls in frustration. "You’re just a sad, lonely little boy wearing another man’s hat!"

"I know exactly who I am," Luffy puts on his straw hat and with his usual smile he turns to Buggy. "I am Monkey D. Luffy. And I’m gonna be King of the Pirates."

Y/N chuckles to herself. He really has an indomitable spirit.

Luffy stretches both his hands back, "Gum Gum…

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! No, no, no! Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait." Buggy pleads but Luffy is already spitting out.

"Bazooka!!"

And with a scream, Buggy's head is launched off the circus.

With a beaming smile, Luffy picks up the map and strides to the center of the stage, where Zoro, Y/N, and Nami are gathering. He extends the map towards the orange-haired girl, his expression filled with unwavering confidence.

"You're giving this to me?" Nami asks, her disbelief barely concealed beneath her facade of composure.

Luffy's grin widens. "You're the navigator," he replies simply, his faith in her abilities unwavering.

"Let's get out of this clown show," Zoro interjects, his tone tinged with impatience as he eagerly anticipates their departure.

Y/N nods in agreement, her hands deftly stowing away her fans back into her waistline. "Yeah, I've had my fill of this place,"

But Luffy's focus remains unwavering as he turns to address the others, his gaze sweeping over the captive audience.

"Still, there's one more thing we have to do," he declares, his eyes meeting those of his companions. "We have to set them free."

With determined hearts, they set about freeing the captive audience, their collective resolve aimed at bringing an end to the clown's tyranny.

"Are you our new captors?" an old man asks Luffy, his voice tinged with confusion.

Luffy tilts his head, a hint of bemusement in his expression. "What?"

"Well, you're a pirate, aren't you?" the old man persists, struggling to comprehend the act of kindness from someone associated with piracy.

"I'm a different kind of pirate," Luffy replies simply, his words carrying a weight of sincerity that belies his reputation.

Y/N shares a knowing glance with Luffy as she frees a child from his shackles, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Despite the odds, Luffy's unwavering determination and genuine compassion are beginning to win her over, gradually eroding her skepticism and replacing it with a newfound sense of admiration.

As they make their way through the town, the sun casts its warm rays upon the streets, a stark contrast to the wreckage left in the wake of Buggy's crew. Despite the devastation, a sense of relief fills the air as the townsfolk emerge from their hiding places, grateful to be free from the clutches of the circus from hell.

As Y/N walks alongside her companions towards their ship, she is greeted by a stream of townspeople, each one expressing their gratitude and admiration for her performance. Some approach her with heartfelt thanks, while others request the pleasure of hearing her sing again.

"We don't have much," the mayor of the town approaches them, offering a basket of food, "but please, take this as a token of our... of our gratitude."

Luffy shakes his head, a generous smile on his face. "You need it more than we do,"

Y/N wiggles her fingers in farewell as she follows Nami, Luffy, and Zoro to make their way back to their ship. As they approach, she notices Luffy darting back towards the mayor, returning for a piece of bread with a cheerful grin.

Once aboard the small ship, Y/N breathes a sigh of relief as she realizes all her belongings are still intact. With a sense of purpose, she joins Nami and Luffy in preparing the ship for their journey ahead.

Waving one last time to the shouting townsfolk, Y/N can't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. The warm farewells of the townsfolk echo in her ears, a reminder of the impact they've had on the lives of others.

A few minutes into their journey, Y/N sits next to Zoro with a tired sigh. The swordsman's eyes are closed and his arms are crossed, she gazes at the sundown, a pretty hue surrounding them- when was the last time she enjoyed a sunny day? Right with Cygnus, that feels like a lifetime ago...

"Hey, you need help with that?" Nami's voice cuts through the serenity, pulling Y/N's attention away from the mesmerizing sunset.

Luffy's puzzled frown prompts her to tense up momentarily as Nami reaches for his straw hat. But instead of causing harm, Nami begins to carefully repair it, her skilled hands weaving the threads with practised precision. Y/N can't help but reconsider her latest thoughts of the navigator as she watches her work.

"Why did you freak out?" Zoro's voice startles her out of her thoughts.

Y/N turns to face the boy, but his eyes are still closed. " What? When did I-"

"Back inside of the box," Zoro said, his voice ever raspy but silent as if he knew she didn't want the others to hear.

"Oh," Y/N blinks, she didn't think he'd notice that, yeah sure she was freaking out but they all were, weren't they? She clears her throat, trying to mask her discomfort as she reaches for her guitar, seeking comfort in its familiar presence. "It's nothing special, really."

"What does 'not again' mean then?" Zoro asks turning his head and opening his eyes to look at her.

Y/N fakes a grin, "I'm just not a fan of enclosed spaces, that's all, hot shot,"

Zoro stares at her for a moment and Y/N stares back. Some of the light of the day cast shadows on his face. She can't tell if he's convinced by her excuse or not. She hopes he is.

Thankfully her silent wishes are answered, Zoro closes his eyes again and turns to face forward. "You better not make any noise, I'm trying to rest,"

Y/N flashes Zoro a mischievous grin in response to his warning. "Noise? Oh, you have it all wrong, hot shot," she quips, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "I don't make noise, I compose symphonies of sound that would make even the sea itself dance to my tune but Don't worry, hot shot, I'll keep it down… unless you want to hear a little tune to lull you to sleep, I promise to find a lullaby you enjoy."

Zoro's lips twitch with amusement, and Y/N can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

"You fixed it," Y/N's head turns to see Luffy taking his hands from Nami with a smile. "Thanks."

"Well, you said it was your treasure, right?"

As Nami rises and heads towards the cabin, Y/N meets her gaze, and in that silent exchange, they share a moment of understanding. Any lingering tension between them dissipates, replaced by mutual respect and perhaps some camaraderie.

"Is every day gonna be this crazy with you?" Zoro's question breaks the silence, drawing Y/N's attention.

Luffy joins them, settling in front of them with a thoughtful expression. "Shanks always said… that if the path to what you want seems too easy… then you're on the wrong path."

Y/N nods in agreement, impressed by the insight of this mysterious Shanks character.

"Smart guy," she remarks, her curiosity piqued by the mention of someone who clearly holds significance in Luffy's life.

Zoro, ever the stoic swordsman, opens his eyes and nods in quiet contemplation. "Yeah, this Shanks guy sounds all right,"

Luffy's face breaks into a wide grin as he rises to his feet, his excitement palpable. With boundless energy, he dashes to the bow of the ship, his voice ringing out with unbridled enthusiasm.

"Next stop, the Grand Line!" he shouts, pointing a finger ahead towards the vast expanse of ocean that stretches out before them.

Shaking her head in amusement, Y/N feels a foreign surge of excitement coursing through her veins. With Luffy at the helm, she knows that her days with him, as long as they may be, will be anything but dull. The question is, will they be dangerous or not.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Lots of love, be safe.

Divider by @cafekitsune

[spaceshipellie]

ok ok rockstar!ellie x actress!reader ,, ellie being like obsessed with reader and her films / shows and says smth about u during an interview. reader seeing it and talking about it in another interview. even better if readers a bit older than ellie and ellie had a poster of reader in her room when she was younger sjshsg

the blades

rockstar!ellie x actress!reader

part one (two pending)

summary: ellie’s band did a song for your upcoming movie and you both mention each other in interviews.

warnings: reader is like 5-6 years older than ellie but they’re both in their twenties

author’s note: i love this concept so much i want to write more rockstar!ellie x actress!reader in future!! tysm for the request, i hope you like it 🖤 wc: 800

“so let’s talk about your latest single, caves, which is for the new movie end of beginning, right?”

“right,” ellie nodded at the interviewer, twisting the rings on her fingers which rested in her lap. she was usually pretty nervous doing interviews, still only feeling truly comfortable in front of a crowd when she had her guitar hanging from her shoulders.

“it’s an incredible song and goes so well in the movie, i mean…” the interviewer’s voice trailed off as they turned to the audience who were whooping and cheering at the compliments. “well they certainly agree!”

“thank you, we’ve had so much fun getting to be a part of it,” dina beamed her award-winning smile.

“so were you able to meet the stars? what did they think?”

“we did briefly which was amazing,” dina carried on, “and i think they loved it!?” she turned to jesse.

“yeah they thought it was great which for us, you know, was crazy as they’re super talented people so that recognition was uh, was amazing. ellie especially loved it,” jesse said, sneaking in a jab at his band mate and best friend.

“really ellie?” the interview seemed keen to know more.

ellie stretched her arm up, nervously scratching the back of her head and tried to fight a smile off her lips. “yeah, i mean i…oh man, thanks jesse.”

“anytime.”

“i’m a huge fan so it was a trip getting to meet them,” she finally settled on.

“meeting y/n?” the interviewer pushed.

“yeah, meeting y/n was great.”

“why do i feel like there’s more you’re not telling me?” the interviewer joked.

“well,” she awkwardly laughed, “no, i mean she’s an insanely talented actress and i’ve loved her movies for years so it’s always pretty crazy meeting someone like that.”

“that, and the posters,” dina leaned into ellie’s shoulder. ellie tried to refrain from swearing on tv.

“posters?”

“yeah,” she admitted, “i had a poster of her on my wall when i was like 16.”

“was she a bit of a celebrity crush for you?”

“something like that, yeah.” ellie’s cheeks had gone bright red and they felt hot under the bright stage lights and mini interrogation she was experiencing.

“oh it’s all coming out now,” jesse laughed and dina laughed with him. ellie chuckled, embarrassed, whilst shooting them a glare.

she ran her hands down her face. “oh, i can’t believe you just made me admit that on tv.”

“she’s probably going to see this,” the interviewer said, “and she’s on here next week.”

“oh god, don’t even mention it.”

— a week later —

“so, y/n! thanks for being on the show.”

“thank you for having me!” you shot your best smile at the interviewer and the crowd, who cheered.

“you’re new movie end of beginning is out now, is that right?”

“yes it’s out now and we had the premier last week which was an incredible night!”

“it looked amazing, as did you, so stunning!”

“thank you so much.”

the interviewer went on asking you more questions about your role in the movie before bringing up ellie’s band, the blades.

“you might have already seen but last week we had the blades on our show and they said it was amazing to work with you.”

“yes! i loved the music they made for this movie, they’re all beyond talented. it was great to meet them as well, super lovely guys,” you praised.

“were you a fan before?”

“yes i am actually, i saw them live on their tour last year so yeah, i’ve been a fan for a while.”

your cheeks felt hot all of a sudden as you had a feeling where this was going.

“well, i think they were definitely fans of yours, or at least one of them was!” the interviewer prodded, smiling. you laughed shyly, not wanting to be the one to admit to anything in front of a live audience.

“ellie said you were her celebrity crush.”

“i heard, yeah,” you smiled down into your lap, trying to compose yourself.

“i think you’d made a cute couple,” the interviewer beamed and the crowd cheered. “they think so!”

“i um,” you stammered, “yeah she’s cute.”

you thought she was more than just cute! you had been a fan of her band for a couple of years and had swooned over the way her skilled fingers plucked her guitar strings over and over again. the outfits she wore. the way she sits with her knees apart and hands clasped together in interviews. the smiles and smirks she has whilst on stage. the tiktok edits you had saved.

“well make sure to invite me to the wedding,” the interviewer laughed. you shyly nodded, trying to stifle the wide grin that wanted to take over your face. you almost hoped ellie wouldn’t see this but there was no doubt that she would… she did, and she had a shit-eating grin on her face the entire time.

[blackholesun321]

@mega-ringsandthings-world we were talking about Mihawk, as we do, and we came to the conclusion that he has never had someone love him for himself in all his ugly humanness. The world looks up at him and sees the world’s greatest swordsman, a warlord, or a man who can go toe-to-toe with an emperor. But they don’t ever see him. Know him—learn him. Because, well, it’s his fault for building that wall between himself and everyone else. For forcing everyone on the outside of his shell his whole life, and then he reaches the top alone, and... it’s everything he’s ever wanted, everything he ever said he wanted. He isn’t weak; he’s the best in the world, and he’s all alone.

And it’s empty—all of it, every second of it—empty, lifeless boredom. And he searches for something. Maybe he tries peace and lives within that state of half alive, half dead because he’s now convinced himself that peace is something he wants. Peace at all costs. But he’s still bored and alone, waiting for something, someone, anything to happen, and it never does.

Because, ladies and gentle-beings, Dracule Mihawk is a coward. He’s a coward because he chooses the easiest path of least resistance instead of charting a course in his own life and trying to make meaning in the meaningless. Mihawk is a coward, and he’s depressed. And these two things are not mutually exclusive; they are the driving force, the reason for each other. And because he will always choose the easiest path, he will never go after what he really needs, which is companionship.

That boy was good with a sword. He reeks of a gifted child, and maybe he even fell in love with swords and swordplay, but he was good at swords and then worked to be great at them. Somewhere in his history, we know he was betrayed by someone he trusted, and then he decided to never trust again. And, oh look, he runs away from everyone and everything, using the excuse to focus on his dream above everything—except when he achieves his dream. Instead of doing the hard work of trying to find meaning again or reaching out to others, he gives up and chooses the path of least resistance. He becomes a warlord for his so called peace of mind bored with hunting marines but trying maybe to have meaning or fights come to him. And he’s still bored and he’s still depressed.

Mihawk is a coward of a man who refuses to see that what he needs in his life is others to make the boredom bearable. And he doesn’t realize this for years—until Zoro. Even then, in Zoro, he sees a suicide; he sees meaning because he sees his end. But also, he sees how Zoro promises Luffy, how his crew gathers around him. He sees that and knows Zoro won’t fall like he did, won’t reach the top and then stop because he’ll have others reach it there with him.

And that’s why him giving Shanks Luffy’s poster, after years of holding a grudge against Shanks, is such a momentous act in his character arc. Because he’s reaching out to the man he personally probably views as someone he could have let as close as Zoro does with his crew. Now, he still views Zoro as a means to an end for his suffering, not yet as the character motivator to make friends and maybe open his heart up a little bit to others. No, that’s the time skip arc with Zoro and Perona. But still, that moment is him trying for the first time in forever, and it happens to be with Shanks.

In conclusion, Mihawk has hang-ups a mile long, but Shanks will always and forever be someone he loves and can imagine himself opening up to and standing at the top of the world with. But instead, he ran away when his vision of that ending was shattered by Shanks refusing to climb with him anymore and giving up his ability to do so—thus leaving Mihawk heartbroken and, in his eyes, betrayed once again. But the power of gay-autism-stupidity moss ball showed him he was the problem and needed to actually talk to people if he wanted to feel anything.

Also, Shanks and Mihawk made out sloppy style, on the beach after.

[carcarcraziiv2]

Heartsteel Ezreal Boyfriend HC's

On a side note, I'm using wet--milk's gifs on like all of these wanna say thanks for clippin good gifs person!

~To the cute green haired Ezreal~

~Floof, mostly just floof honestly -shrug- as always enter at your own risk!~

Ezreal is the kind of guy who does not G.A.F about PDA. He will kiss you, hug you, smother you in affection no matter where you are. Ironically, he was shy when the two of you first met, but that flew out the window as soon as he realized how amazing you treat him and how you accepted him so purely. Contrary to his general attitude, if anyone starts giving you any extra attention that makes him or you uncomfortable, he will confront them. He will be brave and walk up to them and tell them who he is to you and make sure they know not to f around. "You're so cuuute! Come here. -Hug-. Honestly, y/n, I never want to let you go." "Is there a reason you're talking to my partner? Carry on, see what happens."

Ezreal is THE joker. He acts shy a lot of the time, but he is a huge goof ball. He will constantly be scheming with his bandmates for a silly prank to pull on you. As a matter of fact, Ezreal and Sett have pulled quite a few pranks on you. They never let you in on the ones against Kayn and Aphelios though, and certainly it can't be because they don't want you to know all their secret plans, right? On the contrary, it is hilarious to prank him especially to scare him, because he has the best reactions! Usually, you team up with his other victims to get back at him, and it makes it all the more worth it. "Hehehe, sorry my love. We just thought it would be funny. Please don't be mad at me? Awh, I knew you couldn't stay mad at this face!"

Ezreal is... an attention seeker. All his life he has been striving to be in the spotlight, and that is no different when it comes to you. He will be attached to you by the hip wherever you go. He even took it upon himself to steal some of "his" posters from his bandmates rooms and hang them up in your bedroom, so you always see him even if you aren't together. If you ignore him to rile him up, be prepared for an onslaught of tackle-cuddles and kisses when it's just the two of you. He will also take it upon himself to shower you in attention. When you dress up for him, for example, he will lower his glasses and look at you through his lashes with his jaw dropped. He is your ultimate hype man. "Do you like them? Yeah, I used to be in a band before Heartsteel, can you believe it? What? No, I'm not taking them down!" "Come here, why have you been ignoring me? -1000 tiny kisses all over your face- You have no choice but to pay attention to me now!"

Ezreal's kisses are sporadic, chaotic, and messy- but not in a bad way. He has this way about him that makes him almost seem desperate when he kisses you, like he's a man starved. Sometimes he will even push you against the wall, groaning into your mouth when you finally let him in. He will back away from you, pulling at his hair and biting his lip to show you how much you affect him. On the other hand, if you take the lead he will literally melt into a puddle. If you grasp his face, pull him close and kiss him gently, he releases little whines that make butterflies erupt in your stomach. "Gods, you're so perfect. I'm not going to stop kissing you. Ever. You got that?"

Ezreal is a pouter when you argue, but he is also such a joker that it's hard for him to tell when you're actually upset with him. Once he does, he will do literally anything to make sure that you aren't mad at him for long, even if it means contradicting what he thought was right in the moment. He will become a soppy mess if you actually show him your anger. May even shed a tear. By the end of it, you feel so bad you have to give him loving to make up for it all. "Love, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were serious... I promise I'll pay more attention next time, okay? Come here, let's cuddle about it."

Ezreal just doesn't say goodbye. As a matter of fact, he just assumes he is going with you wherever you go, and vice versa. If you somehow end up somewhere without him, if he doesn't know where you are, he may just go into a slight panic? Usually running to Yone for help, eventually getting a text back from you (he sent SO MANY texts). His separation anxiety is cute, even though it's sad, and it makes you hyper aware of just how obsessed with you he is. "Where ARE you, my love? Oh my gods, you scared me! Please don't leave me again, I don't think my heart can handle it."

[glumet-shadow]

twst x enstars

inspired by shinyjr's post called 'what are you doing in my apartment'

why are they/you in your/my apartment

it was late, you had just got back from a long day at ES. When you entered your home a few people you remembered from a game were inside, but they werent real. Right? In response you pull out your phone and keys to aim at the strangers.

-------------------------------------------

Heartslabyul

Roses? Did Tsukasa and or the tea club drop off rose tea in your house? When you walked forward onto the stairs you see two men, one with ginger hair with a heart on his face. The other with dark blue hair and a spade mark to match, you scream as you think they broke into your house. Once they hear you they scream as well running into your room.

When you entered your room you saw the rest of the group, nearly panicking you called your favorite idol, but the leader takes your phone and hangs it up quickly. "Hear us out, we dont mean harm we swear."

You want to know what they all do in your home and when they find out about your obsessive coworkers?

-------------------------------------------

Ace Trapolla

No offense, but why is your house so small? Its nothing like ramshackle. But its very pretty and looks nice.

When ace first entered your home he was shocked to see posters of idols in your home. The first thing he put his hands on was an album which had photos of yourself and the idols. He was amazed-- until he saw someone who looked like riddle. Yeah, he screamed loudly which caused deuce to come and scream at the photo as well. They soon realized the difference once they saw people riddle never met in the photo.

What does he do though? After a few days and being placed under house arrest by riddle he finds your workplace. When he sees the large building he goes in, what he didnt expect was to see you, his precious player with people who looked like himself and deuce. Subaru, the one who looked like him, screamed, thinking it was a crazed fan who broke in. Though after you spoke up about how he doesnt actually know anyone but you he calmed down. Ace ran up to hug you which subaru wasnt happy about but let it happen seeing as you were ok with it.

Riddle and the others quickly followed in, causing a whole mess and you having to explain. No, they arent crazed fans of them, they are just your (obsessed) roommates. Eichi walks forward from the idols and seems skeptical but after a nod from you he holds you in his arms and drags you away from everyone. Noone knew you got roommates! Even those who had cameras! (except izumi but thats for later!)

When ace is alone he often photo copies every album with a photo of you and edits all of them into a collage of you (having removed the idols due to anger and jealousy) He wanted memories with you to!

Ace takes a job at ES, eichi or ibara had offered it to him. They only did so to see what Ace would do when he was guarding (you) the building. Quickly regretting it because ace clings to your side, Subaru panics when ace is basically glued to your hip during trickstar practice. Everyone panics infact. Tori is very livid when he sees ace, after practice tori asked eichi if "yuzuru could get rid of him." Which eichi didnt object to at all.

After work ace always greats you at the door, and when you just managed a concert for the idols he always is anxious wondering what "the crazy bastards" are doing to you.

"Oh, your home! How was everyone else at work? You thought I was there to today? No I was off today (he was he just wore trickstar clothing he had taken and snuck in.) Want me to tell trey you are home so he can start cooking dinner? Oh my day, it was uneventful."

-------------------------------------------

Deuce spade

Your home is nice, but why are there posters of "strangers" on your walls. Deuce doesnt take them down but takes pictures of them and scratches out the idols' faces in his copies.

When deuce first entered your home he was shocked, so this was your real home. The first thing deuce put his hands on was some of the pictures of the idols, which he didnt know how but they were hidden in a secret compartment in your desk. You didnt know it existed until he told you.

What does he do though? The first few days are mainly him looking around your home for the things the idols gave you, why? He wants them all destroyed to make himself happy. He found every single one, he mainly found tori's since well. Tori also has snuck into your home, and (not so) secretly put photos of him dressed up in places within your house. The "gifts" he didnt find were from izumi, the cameras. When he found them after about a year..... He was livid and, for the first time, came to ES of his own will. He slapped izumi and nearly released all his repressed bad boy feelings.

When deuce is alone you might find him trying to find jobs, he refused any offers from eichi or ibara saying "I already have my place, and anyway I assure you I would be poor at doing my job." Even if he would be very good at it he refuses it because he doesnt trust any of the idols. The only ones he can trust are subaru and hokuto, but even then it isnt much.

After work deuce usually is cleaning or clinging to you. During or after lives however, due to much convincing from you, you got deuce to come back stage with you and ace. He wasnt your guard at that point but after seeing first hand what the idols would do to you. He wasnt taking any chances ever.

"Hey question, why do you have all these photos of your colleges? You dont, well I found like 50 pictures of them. They must have hid them in (y)our house."

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Cater diamond

Nice place you have here- who are those people on those posters? Oh your coworkers. Yeah when he sees mao he sees red. Not his mark but anger. WHY WAS THIS SHALLOW COPY OF HIM ON YOUR WALLS. Oh he already has someone. Who? A guy who is also (obsessed) interested in you.

When cater entered your home he was shocked about everything around him. Specifically the posters of your coworkers. He found the cameras before deuce only tried to connect them to his phone instead, resulting in izumi hacking his phone and sending him messages. Most were along the lines of "get out of their house" and or "STAY AWAY FROM THEM." Oh he wasnt happy about this ever.

What does he do though? He joins ES not as a guard but rather as an idol. He creates a unit and invites you to produce him, of course you agree but when eichi catches wind of cater's ideas he quickly tries to team his unit. He (Eichi) is your (lover) roommate after all, why not support him? Ibara also tries to get cater to join eden, it ends up working. Ibara and cater work well together despite hating eachother.

When cater is alone he is often actually working on stuff for his career. Given the fact he already knows how to use social media well he gains quite the following, even larger than hiyori's almost. Much to everyone's dismay he ends up growing large enough to have a solo unit similar to mam.

After work you can find cater doing chores or working on a new song. During lives, whether it be his own or another unit's he is always near you. Of course he is, who wouldnt want to bring their "lover" with them to success.

"Thank you for coming to practice with me, I appreciate it a lot. Speaking of which I was looking for my unit's file in your office but couldnt find it. I only found fine's in it."

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Trey clover

Your home, yes its very pretty. But what are these little cards in your desk? Are they playing cards? No?

When trey entered your home he was in shock, mainly that he was here but also that there was someone who you seemed to like that was just like him. He was honored but also livid at keito.

What does he do though? He mainly does the chores, since they have ace and deuce as guards for ES and cater an idol he doesnt need a job exactly. So he choses to do the housework often left behind by everyone but riddle and himself.

When trey is alone as said above he does chores but he also helps with cater's unit when you cant. He made "special effects" that made cater almost multiply, even if it was an excuse so they could use their magic together. They made it where cater's clones would do the song. Once it was done trey use his magic and made it seem lke they just disappeared when really he just wrote of cater's magic in an interesting way.

After work you always find trey cooking, you cant help but go into the kitchen and offer him a hug. He of course welcomes it but also explains what he is making.

"Riddle said you have been doing a lot of work lately, dont worry I can help you if need be. I already help cater, what is one more (he offers this to annoy the idols.)"

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Riddle rosehearts

He will take care of you and your home, rest assured. No need to worry about the first years, they wont matter in the end.

When riddle entered your home and heard the troublesome duo's screams he ran to them. When he saw someone who looked like him he yelled, weirdly and luckily tsukasa was off stage was when Riddle used his magic on him. You, you just panicked when you saw the familiar collar on his neck. You ran home to get your phone, you forgot it earlier in your rush.

What does he do though? You often find him organizing your papers for work, even the ones you hid. Often times he burned the pictures of tsukasa but you never noticed him doing so.

When riddle is alone as stated above he will be burning the cards the idols snuck into your home and or bag. He doesnt help with cater's idol work but he does help you manage with knights. Tsukasa and him form a bit of a bond, which is why riddle after about a month of them working together he doesnt burn the cards and instead gives them to you in flowers for tsukasa. An idol he hates after meeting is hiyori. Do not let them in the same room unattended, he will attack hiyori.

After work you may find him drawing outfits, he learned how to draw from shu. Even learns to sew from him just to help on your workload. However after a live he clings to you for dear life and hands you roses as a "reward" for not indulging those idols in "regretful and wrong" actions.

"Rose, you are home early? Oh me, I was just cleaning a bit for you. The thing on the table? Thats the latest design for one of the units."

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In a summary

Heartslabyul is a dorm that helps you a lot, they all work except trey who joined niki's kitchen group. You dont have to work anymore if you dont want to. You have 2 bodyguards who make decent, a super popular idol, a home chef, and a star producer to watch over you. Why leave them now? Cant they "help" you some more. Even get your least favorite idol to stay away from you.

[sendpseuds]

“Christ, Spencer’s still exists!?”

It has been many years since Obi-Wan has found himself at the mall, and if it weren’t for fear of incurring the wrath of his ex-wife, he’s fairly certain he never would have returned to this godforsaken place.

“You know what Spencer’s is?” 

Korkie’s voice is incredulous, arms crossed over his chest, staring up at Obi-Wan with his mother’s arched eyebrow like his father can’t possibly have knowledge about anything even mildly fun or cool.

Obi-Wan wants to roll his eyes.

Instead, he digs his nails into his palm.

Before you I was fun.

Before you I was cool.

“Of course I do,” he replies with a haughty huff, trying to swallow the defensive feeling in his throat, “When I was your age we would actually hang out at the mall.”

Korkie laughs.

Not kindly.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan feels even less cool than he had a moment before.

“You know,” Korkie muses as they near the novelty shop in question, his voice settling to a low note Obi-Wan isn’t sure he’s heard the boy hit before, finally settling into all the terrible changes and challenges of being a teenager, “Mom never lets me go in there—”

Translation: Here’s your chance to be the fun parent. The cool parent. 

It’s the oldest trick in the book, and frankly, he expects more from his own son, but they’ve got a long terrible day of ex-wife-mandated back-to-school shopping ahead of them and Obi-Wan thinks he’d rather start the nightmare with a smiling teen than a sulking one.

“I am curious,” Obi-Wan says, completely bypassing the comment about Satine. If he’s taking his son into what is, essentially, every teenager’s first sex shop, he’s at least going to make it his idea, “I wonder how much has changed.”

The excited smile on Korkie’s face looks a whole lot like victory.

“You can’t tell your mother.”

“Never,” Korkie promises before rushing ahead and into the dimly lit store.

Somehow, decades later, this place looks exactly the same. 

Dark.

Disorganized.

Debaucherous.

So very dark.

The front of the shop is littered with graphic t-shirts and novelty items — party games, gag gifts, and kitschy decor — the merchandise growing more and more adult the further back the display is. Obi-Wan is sure there are fuzzy handcuffs and dildos back by the Playboy posters and lava lamps but he remembers what it was like to be a teenage boy and Korkie’s going to learn about all of it sooner or later.

[And Satine is certainly not going to teach him about it if the boy’s recounting of her almost horrifyingly clinical sex talk is anything to go by.]

Korkie runs his hand over the orange owl on a black Hooter’s shirt and now, Obi-Wan does roll his eyes.

When the boy looks up, the mischievous smile on his face immediately transforms into a seething scowl.

He’s getting quite good at that look.

He looks so much like his mother.

“Don’t follow me, Dad!” Korkie bites out, scoffing loudly when Obi-Wan holds his hands up in surrender, turning on his heal and disappearing behind a shelf of alien-themed housewares.

“Yeah, Dad,” an unfamiliar voice says from somewhere behind him, the man’s tone low and teasing, “Leave him alone.”

Obi-Wan turns and finds himself pinned in place by eyes as blue as the Bad Bitch neon hanging beside him.

The beautiful young man standing behind the counter is wrapped all in black, ripped jeans slung low on his hips, plain black t-shirt beneath a leather harness, the sort Obi-Wan has never seen anyone wear outside of a porno and certainly never in public. Dyed black hair is growing out blonde at the roots and there’s a scar through the eyebrow that isn’t pierced and the way his stunning smile only grows makes something stir in the pit of Obi-Wan’s stomach.

I used to be cool.

I used to wear risky clothing and a ring in my ear.

I used to pop pills and smoke cigarettes.

I used to be young and hot.

Now, I’m just Dad.

“Well, that’s a surprise,” the stunning creature working at Spencer’s says, his voice lower than it was a moment ago, those wild blue eyes unabashedly tracing up and down Obi-Wan’s body with an amused grin, placing both his hands flat on the counter and hinging forward at the hips, arching his spine in a way that makes Obi-Wan sway forward, his eyes falling to a pair of perfect pink lips, imagining the metal piercing hard and cold between his teeth as they part to speak.

“I think I’d rather call you Daddy.”

[part two]