bl3upi3

[bl3upi3]

See You Soon

A/N: Not proofread, but I’ve been wanting to write a long-distance one-shot for a while. Requests are open if you have any ideas!

Word count : 2,943

Summary: After a random Minecraft tweet catches the attention of rising music star 2Hollis, you never expected a flirty reply to turn into months of late-night calls, care packages, and falling in love from a distance. One year later, after months of slow-burn connection, he books a flight to finally meet you in person and everything changes.

You’ve been dating Hollis for a year now. It’s always been a bit of a weird situation, it was long-distance from the start, since he’s constantly busy with his career and you were still finishing up at your local university. Meeting him in the first place had been a total surprise.

It started with a dumb tweet actually, something stupid you posted late at night about Minecraft villagers sounding like tired dads. You didn’t expect anyone to see it, let alone someone like him. But then he replied. Not just a like or a retweet, a full reply. Sarcastic, funny, and way too specific for someone who wasn’t deep into the game.

You didn’t even realize who he was at first. His username didn’t have the usual blue check. It wasn’t until you clicked on his profile out of curiosity that you saw the link to his music and froze.

It was that Hollis.

You figured it was a one-off interaction. But then he followed you. Then DMed you. You talked on and off for months, it wasn’t really your priority, but he was actually nice. Chill. Funny. You two bonded over video games and skating. You told him you wished you’d learned how to skate when you were younger. At this point, you were a full-blown adult who barely knew how to stand on a board, let alone do anything else. He said that if he could, he’d teach you himself.

Even after eight months of talking, you still hadn’t fully processed that you were actually chatting with the 2Hollis. Not until he FaceTimed you for your birthday. You’d mentioned the date once, in passing, and didn’t think he’d remember but he did.

You were lying on your bed, wrapped in an old hoodie, scrolling aimlessly when your phone buzzed. Unknown number. FaceTime.

You stared at the screen, confused. Then it clicked. Your heart did this weird little skip. You sat up, hesitated for a second, then hit accept.

And there he was.

At first, all you saw was the ceiling of what looked like a studio. Then his face appeared, a little too close to the camera, slightly blurry, clearly not prepared for this call either.

“Happy birthday,” he said, grinning.

You didn’t say anything at first. You just blinked at the screen, trying to connect the face you’d seen in a million edited music videos with the guy who’d sent you memes at 3 a.m. about villagers and skeleton mobs.

“What?” you finally muttered, breath caught halfway between a laugh and a panic attack.

“I said happy birthday, dummy,” he repeated, teasing.

He looked tired, not in a bad way. His hoodie was half zipped, hair messy, eyes soft. No lights, only red LEDs. Just him, holding the phone with one hand and a cupcake in the other.

You snorted. “Is that… for me?”

He lifted the tiny cupcake closer to the camera. It had a crooked little candle stuck in the center. “Yeah. Don’t get too emotional, it’s store-bought.”

You laughed, really laughed, the kind that made your cheeks hurt and your chest feel lighter than it had in weeks.

He grinned at the sound, like he’d earned something. You didn’t know it yet, but he’d remember that exact moment later. The way your eyes squinted when you smiled. The way your voice cracked a little when you tried not to laugh too hard.

You thought the call would last ten minutes, tops. He had a session to get back to. You were supposed to be writing a paper. But somehow, three hours passed. Just like that.

You talked about your day, the annoying professor who still called roll like it was high school, how you spilled coffee on your notes that morning. He asked questions, real ones. Like he actually cared. You told him about your final exams coming up, about how burnt out you were but too stubborn to quit. He told you he got that. That he used to stay up all night editing his tracks with cheap headphones and half a clue what he was doing. That even now, with all the success, he sometimes felt like he was just winging it.

Then, he got quieter. He talked about the future, not just music, but what he wanted, even if he wasn’t totally sure how to say it out loud. He said he didn’t think he could do this forever. That the industry felt like a maze sometimes. That part of him just wanted peace. Maybe a place outside the city. Maybe someone to build stuff with.

You didn’t say much. You just listened. And he let you.

At some point, your battery dipped below 5%, but you didn’t care. Neither of you brought it up. It was like neither of you wanted to be the first to hang up.

You ended up falling asleep with the phone still in your hand, his voice the last thing you heard low, warm, halfway through a sentence you never got to finish.

The next morning, there was a message waiting for you.

“Didn’t wanna hang up first. Sleep well, birthday girl.”

That was the night everything changed. After that, things between you got more serious. He started FaceTiming you whenever he could, before shows, after interviews, sometimes even in the middle of events just to show you around. It was sweet, getting little glimpses of a world so far from your small city.

Then the texts started getting flirtier. Subtle at first. Jokes that lingered a little longer, compliments that felt a bit more intentional. And slowly, it started to feel like something more.

The shift was gradual. One day you were teasing him about his obsession with Red Bull, the next he was sending you mirror selfies captioned “Rate the fit, or just pretend you miss me already.” You played it cool, obviously but your stomach flipped every time his name popped up on your screen.

You’d never dated someone like him before. Not just the fame, but the way he paid attention. Like the tiniest things you said actually stayed with him. Like he was taking mental notes just to surprise you later.

One night, after a particularly brutal exam, you got home to a package at your door. Inside: a hoodie from your favorite show, a bag of those weird chips you couldn’t stop talking about, and a hand-written note that just said:

“In case today sucked. Call me if you feel like pretending it didn’t.”

That was the first night you told him you liked him.

Like, really liked him.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just kind of blinked at you through the screen. Then he smiled. Soft, almost shy.

“I was starting to think I’d have to move to your city just to prove I wasn’t messing around.”

And from there, everything started moving faster. More late-night calls. More “I wish you were here” texts. More versions of you and him that started to feel less like a maybe and more like a plan.

It wasn’t official yet, no labels, no big talk but the way he said your name started to feel different. Like it meant something. Like you meant something.

And then, one night, you were on the phone, half-asleep, the screen dimmed and your voice low. You’d been talking about the stupidest things cereal brands, childhood cartoons, the weird kid in your class who wore flip-flops year-round and somewhere between a yawn and a pause, he said it.

“You know I’m not seeing anyone else, right?”

You blinked, sat up a little.

“What?”

He rubbed his face, like he wasn’t sure if he’d meant to say it out loud.

“I mean… I don’t know what this is exactly, but it’s not casual for me. Not just… fun. Not anymore.”

Your chest tightened. Not in a bad way, just in that overwhelming, oh-god-this-is-real way.

You were quiet for a second, long enough that he started to shift awkwardly on his end of the call.

“I’m not either,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Seeing anyone else. I mean. It’s not just fun for me, either.”

His whole expression changed. Softer. Relieved. Like he’d been holding his breath for hours without realizing.

“Cool,” he said, eyes flicking away from the camera for a second. “That’s… cool.”

After that, he started calling you his girl. Casually, at first. In texts. In the way he’d say “You’d hate this place, my girl doesn’t even like crowds.” But hearing it, feeling claimed in that gentle, stupid, sweet way made your stomach twist every time.

Then one afternoon, a couple weeks later, it happened.

“What’s your address?”

You stared at your phone, confused.

“Why?”

“Because I booked a flight.”

“Hollis. What do you mean?”

“I’m coming to see you. Like… for real.”

You didn’t answer right away. You just sat there on your bed, staring at the message, your heart thudding so hard it felt like it echoed in your teeth.

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

“When?”

“Friday.”

It was Tuesday.

You hadn’t even brushed your hair that day. You were still in sweats, still half-recovering from your last round of exams, and now the boy you’d been falling in love with, slowly, stupidly, digitally, was going to be standing in front of you in less than three days.

You almost threw up. Then you almost cried. Then you called him.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” you asked as soon as he picked up, no hello, no intro.

“Because I didn’t want to give you time to back out.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re such a dick.”

“Maybe. But I’m your dick now, remember?”

You buried your face in your hands, cheeks burning. “I hate you.”

“You’re gonna love me by Friday.”

You didn’t sleep much that week. Every time your phone buzzed, you jumped. You started noticing how messy your room looked, how uneven your nails were, how you didn’t own anything remotely cool to wear around a real-life superstar. Not that he’d care, but still.

Friday came faster than you thought.

You kept checking the time like that would slow it down. Your hands shook when you did your makeup. You changed outfits four times, then ended up in the first one anyway.

You got to the airport early, way too early. You paced near arrivals, trying not to check your phone every two seconds even though you knew exactly when he landed. Your leg bounced nonstop. You kept looking toward the automatic doors like a dog waiting for its owner.

You didn’t know how to act at first, your feet stayed rooted to the floor, your mind suddenly blank. You were kind of shy, frozen, like your body hadn’t caught up with what was happening.

But Hollis didn’t hesitate. The second he saw that hesitation in your eyes, the half-step back, the nervous grip on your sleeve, he smiled and pulled you straight into him.

His arms wrapped around you like it was second nature, like he’d done it a thousand times already in his head.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, voice muffled by your hair. “Don’t do that nervous thing. It’s just me.”

You exhaled against his chest. That was the first time you really let yourself feel it, the warmth of him, the weight of him, the reality of him. He held you like he wasn’t in a rush to let go.

When you finally stepped back, he kept one hand at your waist, just resting there, grounding you. His other hand reached up to brush your cheek.

“You’re shorter than I expected,” he said, teasing but gentle.

“You’re taller,” you shot back, blinking up at him.

“Damn. You got jokes in person too.”

You smiled. “I’m funnier in 4D.”

He laughed. Neither of you really knew what to say after that. It was that weird limbo between we already know each other and we’re meeting for the first time.

So you just stood there for a second, looking at him, letting your brain catch up to your heart.

“Ready to get out of here?” you asked finally.

“Only if you’re the one driving,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder with a grin.

You shook your head. “You’re insane if you think I’m letting a sleep-deprived singer who just got off a five-hour flight take the wheel.”

“Fair,” he said, falling into step beside you. “But I still call aux.”

You rolled your eyes, but your fingers brushed his as you walked, and when his hand found yours without hesitation, you didn’t let go.

Hollis stayed for three days. He wanted you to show him around your town, your favorite coffee shop, the park near your apartment, even your campus. A few people recognized him as you walked together, especially near the university. You instinctively kept a bit of distance, unsure how to act. You weren’t ready for his fans to know about you.

You’d seen how they reacted online every time he so much as looked at a woman. The thought of them finding your account, tearing you apart, turning you into some meme, it scared you more than you wanted to admit.

Still, he didn’t seem to care. He wanted to do everything with you, pay for every activity, take you on little dates like you were the only person that mattered. Movie theatres, late-night dinners, long conversations back at your place with your legs tangled under the blanket.

He didn’t rush anything. Just made space for you, like he’d always been part of your routine.

The last night of his trip, you stayed up way too late again.

You were both curled up on the couch, an old movie playing in the background neither of you were really watching. His hoodie was draped over your shoulders, still warm from his body, and your legs were tangled under the throw blanket like they’d always belonged there.

You were leaning into him, your head resting just under his jaw, when he tilted his face toward yours, voice low.

“You’re quiet.”

“I’m sleepy,” you lied.

“Mm.” He shifted slightly, his fingers brushing a slow line along the inside of your arm. “Nah. That’s your ‘I’m overthinking something’ silence.”

You hated how well he read you.

“I just… don’t want this to end,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer right away. His hand found yours under the blanket, fingers lacing through yours slowly. Deliberate.

“It doesn’t have to,” he said. “Not really.”

You turned your head toward him, your eyes meeting his in the dim, flickering light from the TV. “You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Yeah. But I’m still yours.”

Your heart was a mess in your chest.

He leaned in a little closer, his voice lower now, softer. “You know I haven’t even kissed you yet.”

“I noticed,” you whispered, trying and failing to sound unimpressed.

“Yeah?”

You nodded, your lips barely parting.

He traced a fingertip along your jaw. “You want me to?”

You swallowed, your pulse thudding somewhere near your throat. “Yeah.”

“Say it.”

You hesitated, breath shaky. “I want you to kiss me.”

His lips ghosted over yours, not quite a kiss, just a test. A tease. His hand cradled the side of your face like you were something fragile, sacred.

And then he kissed you. Slow. Deep. Like he was trying to memorize it. Like he already knew it wouldn’t be enough.

Your fingers fisted the fabric of his hoodie. His thumb slid across your cheekbone.

He pulled back just a little, just enough to breathe, to look at you like he wasn’t sure how the hell he’d gone so long without doing that.

“That was worth the wait,” he murmured.

You smiled, dazed. “Yeah?”

He nodded, brushing his nose against yours. “Yeah.”

Neither of you moved for a long moment. It wasn’t just the kiss it was everything behind it. All the calls. All the teasing. The random memes at midnight, the shared silences, the way he remembered things you didn’t even realize you’d told him.

You finally leaned your forehead against his, your voice soft. “You’re gonna forget what I look like the second you’re on the plane.”

He frowned. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

He shifted a little, sitting up just enough to pull you fully into his lap, your legs on either side of him now. His hands rested on your hips.

“I’m not forgetting any of this,” he said. “You’re not… some side thing. You know that, right?”

You didn’t answer. But you didn’t look away either.

“I’m gonna leave,” he continued, “and it’s gonna suck. But I’m gonna text you before I even get on the plane. And I’m gonna FaceTime you the second I land. And I’m gonna keep showing up. As much as I can. Until I can do it for real.”

“For real?” you echoed.

“As in… permanently. Not a visit. Not just three days. You and me, no lag. No screens. I want that. Eventually.”

Your heart twisted, in the best way possible.

And you knew deep down he meant it.

So you kissed him again. Not because it was the dramatic thing to do, but because you couldn’t not.

And later, when he finally did leave, when you stood at the gate and watched him disappear past security, your chest ached.

But it didn’t feel like goodbye.

It felt like see-you-soon.

Because you had something.

Something real. Something rare.

Something that started with a stupid Minecraft tweet and ended here.

And you were only just getting started.

[bl3upi3]

Got any one-shot requests for 2Hollis, Rommulas, or Nettspend? I’m looking for some inspo.

[bl3upi3]

Can I request nettspend x reader where they have a rap beef but then hash it out and collab and start being cute on ig (reader is more of a producer than a lyricist so they make him a beat :3)

It’s Not a Collab

Summary: You’re a rising underground producer with one viral hit and a lot to prove. Nettspend is a loudmouthed rapper who made the mistake of dragging your name and your beats through the mud. What started as a petty war turned into a viral feud, fan-fueled chaos, and one unexpected collab offer. You hate him. He kind of loves that.

Word count: 2013

A/N: Not proofread. I think I could’ve done better. It feels a bit rushed, but I wanted to leave room for a possible part 2. Hope the person who requested it likes it!

You’ve been producing music since high school, starting out with your friends just messing around, making random tracks and beats for fun. You blew up one summer after making a XavierSobased-type beat and he actually reached out to work with you. You and Xavier ended up doing three songs together, and one of them even went viral on TikTok. You weren’t exactly famous, though. Aside from working with Xavier, you hadn’t really done any big or successful projects.

You weren’t exactly chasing clout, but that little burst of attention had people in your DMs, rappers, wannabes, and a few producers trying to leech off the hype. Most of them were unserious.

One day, while you were scrolling through TikTok, you came across an interview with Nettspend. You knew who he was, he was a good friend of Xavier. Xavier had mentioned him before, even said he’d probably sound great on one of your beats.

In the video, Nettspend was sitting in front of a plain white background, answering questions from someone off-camera about the underground scene and different rappers. Then came a question that made your heart stop for a second.

“What do you think about your friend Xaviersobased working with a producer who got discovered on TikTok?”

He was talking about you.

Nettspend didn’t answer right away. He tilted his head a little, raised an eyebrow, and gave this dry half-smile like he was deciding whether to be messy or diplomatic.

“I mean… it’s cute,” he said finally, voice flat. “Xavier does charity work sometimes.”

Your jaw dropped.

The interviewer laughed, and Nettspend didn’t even crack a grin to show he was joking. Just looked dead into the camera like he meant it. You stared at the screen, chest tight, heat crawling up your neck. A million comebacks flooded your brain, but none of them mattered because by the time the clip ended, your blood was already boiling.

You didn’t post anything. Not right away. You didn’t want to look pressed. But you were pressed. So you did what you knew how to do best.

In the days that followed, you started working on a new beat. You didn’t like Nett at first, you knew how self-centered he was, always acting like he was better than everyone else. You even based the beat on one of his own tracks, flipping the vibe and twisting it into something darker. You sampled a few of his vocals too, just to be petty. Then you titled it “Charity Work” and dropped it.

It didn’t take long for people to connect the dots. Within an hour, “Charity Work” was all over TikTok. Duets, stitches, edits, everyone had an opinion. Some thought it was genius, others called it shady. A few diehard Nettspend fans tried to come for you in the comments, but your followers clapped back harder.

And then, Nettspend noticed.

He tweeted: “Y’all funny. Sampling me like I’m dead.”

No @, no mention. But you knew who it was for.

You liked the tweet. That’s all. No words. Just a like.

That like must’ve touched a nerve, because a few hours later, Nettspend started tweeting wild.

“She be better off posting her body than her bad beats. Can’t EQ for shit.”

“Y’all hyping a TikTok producer like she’s Mozart just 'cause she’s got titties?”

At first, you laughed. Then you didn’t.

It wasn’t just about music anymore he was taking shots at you as a woman, as a producer, as someone who hadn’t come up the "right" way.

You posted a screenshot of a message you’d sent him months ago, back when Xavier had first suggested a collab. It was short and polite: “Hey! Xavier said we might vibe on something, lmk if you’re ever down.” Left on read.

Then you added a caption:“He been ignoring me since before I made him relevant y’all do the math.” Boom. 20k likes in an hour.

Now it was war. Nettspend posted an Instagram story with a photo of your beat file, claiming he could make it “better in 30 minutes on his phone.” You responded by uploading a remix of his beat, but way cleaner, with tighter transitions and again, people noticed.

Someone on Twitter made a thread: “This beef between Nettspend and Y/N is lowkey the best underground drama of the year.”

You responded: “He mad I made him sound better than he actually is.”

After that, nothing. No tweets, no subs, no responses. He went on with his life, and you went on with yours.

“Charity Work” kept blowing up, even after the drama died down. People online started calling it Y/N ft. Nettspend, like it was a real collab. New listeners didn’t even know it came out of a beef, they just liked the sound.

Your face was more recognizable now. You started getting invited to festivals over the summer. Still, you knew the chances of running into Nettspend were high. You moved in the same scene, worked in the same underground lane. You were both known for the same vibe.

Between sets, a few media outlets stopped you to shoot quick interviews or content for TikTok. During one of them, while you were talking to a festival media team, the interviewer suddenly leaned in with a smile and asked:

“Y/N, how does it feel to reunite with Nettspend? Especially after all the drama from a few months ago?”

You blinked. Reunite?

People were still talking about that?

You gave a small laugh and said, “I mean… I don’t really care. I’m just here to enjoy the performers—maybe see if Nett’s improved.”

Then you smiled politely, turned away, and dipped.

Eventually, it was time for his performance. You’d seen him arrive earlier, paparazzi all over him, cameras flashing. He tried to play it cool, all nonchalant, but you could tell he was doing his best to avoid crossing paths with you.

When he hit the stage, the crowd went wild. People screamed his name like he was headlining the whole festival. You watched from the VIP section, a little elevated above the rest of the audience, just observing.

Then, you heard it, the start of your mix.

The beat dropped, and the crowd fell quiet for a split second, confused. Then a video of you flashed on the big screen. A clip from your earlier interview.

“So Y/N wants to see if I got better,” he said into the mic, voice echoing over the field. Then he pointed right at you from across the venue. The cameras cut to a live POV of you, your face projected across the screen.

“Enjoy the show,” he added with a smirk, before launching into his verse, rapping over your beat.

Your cheeks burned, part frustration, part pure embarrassment. You didn’t know how to react. Everyone was watching, waiting to see if you’d laugh it off or storm out. You stayed still. Calm on the outside. Boiling on the inside.

He was rapping like he owned the moment, like he didn’t spend a months acting like you weren’t worth a single collab. Now he was up there performing your beat, turning it into a stage stunt. Playing the villain.

And the worst part?

The crowd ate it up.

You stood there, jaw tight, trying to decide if you should leave or pretend it didn’t bother you. Then, you felt someone tap your shoulder. One of the event coordinators, face wide with excitement.

“He just changed the set last minute. Said he wanted to open with that track for the drama. Honestly? It’s working. They love it.”

Great.

Later, backstage, you ducked into one of the trailers to cool off. You weren’t even supposed to be working this festival, just attending, but somehow you were still getting dragged into his mess. Again.

Your phone was vibrating nonstop, notifications from TikTok, Twitter, Instagram. The interview clip. The reaction shot. His callout. It was all over the place.

And then, another message popped up.

@nettspend: “You good? ”

You stared at the screen, completely deadpan. You good? After all that?

You didn’t answer. Just closed your phone, leaned back, and let the noise roll around you like static.

You’d been dragged into his show once. It wasn’t happening again. If he wanted to use your beat to get a crowd reaction, fine. But next time?

He could try doing it without your name in his mouth.

You ignored his message.

At least, you tried to.

The next day, clips from the festival were everywhere. “Nettspend confronts Y/N live on stage,” “Underground’s messiest beef hits new level,” “The beat that started a war.” People were eating it up, remixing the moment into edits, fancams, reaction videos. Some even started tagging you both under posts like you were their favorite chaotic duo.

Two days later, you got tagged in a post from Nettspend. A black-and-white still of the stage, the screen behind him frozen on your face mid-reaction. His caption?

“She looked mad… but the beat was fire.”

Comments full of “they should just collab already.”

Later that night, a Dropbox link landed in your inbox.

Subject: “Bet you won’t.”

Inside: a rough vocal demo. Just him and a mic. No beat. Just a challenge.

You listened.

And to your absolute horror you liked it. Not the words, not the smug tone, but the potential. It was raw, full of ego and bite, but weirdly magnetic. Something about it clung to your brain like an earworm. He’d left room for a drop, for layers, for... you.

You stared at your laptop.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

No. Nope. Absolutely not.

But your fingers were already moving.

You didn’t tell anyone. You just stayed up late, tweaking 808s, slicing his breath, bending the vocal into something sharper, deeper. Then you layered your signature sound over it, clean, cinematic, a little aggressive. You exported it. Saved the file name as “ghost.wav.”

The next morning, you sent it back.

No words. Just the beat.

Ten minutes later, he replied: “Oh. So you do like me.”

You stared at your screen, half a laugh stuck in your throat.

You typed: “No. I just like shutting you up.”

His reply came back too fast.

“Then pull up and shut me up in person.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. Typical. You could already hear his smug tone through the screen.

“You asking me to collab or catch a fade?” you shot back.

“Both. Depends how good the beat is.”

You weren’t smiling. You definitely weren’t. Except you were. A little.

Three days later, you showed up at the studio he sent the address to. You told yourself it was for business. Strictly work.

The second you walked in, he looked up from the soundboard, chewing gum and lounging like he didn’t just spend the last few months being your public enemy number one.

“Wow,” he said, slow, cocky. “You’re shorter than I thought.”

“And you talk more online than you do in your tracks,” you snapped back, dropping your bag next to the desk.

His grin widened.

You hated that you didn’t hate how it looked on him.

The tension was stupid. You sat down beside him, cracked open your laptop, and didn’t look at him as you plugged in.

“So?” he said. “You gonna produce, or just look mad and cute the whole time?”

You gave him a cold glance, fingers flying across your keyboard.

“You want a beat or a black eye?”

“Surprise me.”

And that was how it started. The worst session you ever had with someone. And somehow also the best.

He threw out ideas like challenges. You clapped back with production that made his jaw go tight. Every sound he laid down, you pushed harder. Somehow, the energy turned electric.

At one point, he stood behind you, leaning over your shoulder to hear a section you were tweaking. You pretended not to notice how close he was.

“You like the tension drop here?” you asked, eyes still on the screen.

“I like when you’re bossy,” he said, deadpan.

Your hand froze on the trackpad.

“Don’t get comfortable,” you said. “This isn’t a date.”

He chuckled low, like he knew something you didn’t.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “But it’s sounding a lot like foreplay.”

You turned to face him, ready to say something, anything but his face was so close to yours you forgot what.

He looked smug.

You looked annoyed.

The air looked like it was about to explode.

You turned back to your screen.

“Shut up and record.”

And he did.

[bl3upi3]

i litr just realised that i used to read ur one piece fanfics while i had a hyper fixation on it and now as i have one on 2hollis ur writing fics about him as well😭🙏🏻 i luv ur work btw <2

Daaaamn b ur an og 🤣 (love u <3)

[bl3upi3]

Loop of the Year

This one-shot is part of a series. You don’t need to read the rest to enjoy it, but you can check it out here if you want.

A/N: Not proofread. Also, not sure about writing smut, it feels kind of off writing about a real person. But let me know what you think.

Word count : 3,020

Summary: After a viral collab and a magnetic onstage performance, you and rising artist 2Hollis find yourselves pulled into a whirlwind of attention, rumors, and undeniable chemistry. When the internet begins shipping you two, it’s all noise… until it's not. A chance run-in at a Rick Owens afterparty reignites the spark, leading to a night of unreleased tracks, honest conversations, and a kiss that changes everything.

You and Hollis finished the song, but neither of you really talked about the collab afterward. You’d been in the studio with him on and off for a few weeks, but your schedule stayed packed so you never had much time to hang out with him or his friends, even though you both clearly wanted to.

You kept in touch mostly through Instagram. He’d reply to your stories or like your posts, little things here and there.

Then he left for a European tour. When he came back, he hit you up saying he wanted to perform your collab live. At first, you were skeptical. But he reassured you the song was fire, and he was convinced it was going to blow up. You liked performing your music, but you didn’t really know Hollis’s fanbase or how they’d react to you.

A few days later, you found yourself backstage at a small but packed venue in Silver Lake, the kind of place where the crowd screams every lyric like a personal prayer. The setlist was taped to the floor. Your name was sharpied in next to his, halfway through the set.

You watched from the side as Hollis took the stage, energy magnetic, voice steady. He made it look effortless. The crowd knew every word, arms up, bodies swaying. You weren’t sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this kind of intensity.

When it was time, he looked toward you through the stage lights and nodded.

“Special guest tonight,” he said into the mic, half-smiling. “You’ve probably seen her face in a campaign. Maybe heard her voice on something weird and beautiful. Either way, she’s here. And this next one… this one’s ours.”

The cheers were louder than you expected.

You stepped onto the stage, heart thudding. The lights were blinding, the heat immediate. But the second the beat dropped, your nerves melted. The loop hit, the crowd moved, and you sank into the pocket of the song like you’d been performing it forever.

You and Hollis traded verses, chemistry sharp and easy. Every look, every movement between you felt amplified, caught in the flash of someone’s camera, the scream of a fan. When your hook came in, the crowd started singing with you—stumbling on the words, but trying. That was the part that got you.

By the time the track faded out, you were breathless and grinning. Hollis pulled you into a loose one-armed hug, mic still in hand.

“Give it up,” he said, voice echoing through the room, “for someone I’ve been waiting too damn long to do this with.”

After that night, videos from the concert went viral. The song wasn’t even out yet, and people were already begging you to drop it on Spotify. You saw some really sweet tweets people calling it a breath of fresh air, saying it felt like the collab of the year.

Of course, some of his fanbase and yours were annoying. Some claimed you were ruining his career; others said he was just riding the wave of your current hype. 

You were at the beach, hanging out with your manager, when she showed you some tweets people shipping you and Hollis, or posting wild theories about how you two were secretly dating. Some even said that was the only reason he’d done such a “trash collab” with you.

You rolled your eyes, half-laughing. “People are insane.”

Your manager handed you her phone. “Insane, but viral. Engagement’s through the roof.”

You scrolled through the tweets some funny, some mean, some weirdly invested. A clip of you and Hollis on stage had already hit a million views. The way he looked at you mid-verse? Yeah, people were running with it.

You tossed the phone onto your towel. “We were literally just performing.”

“Yeah,” she said, squinting at the sun. “But you looked good together. And in this industry, looking good together sells.”

You stared out at the waves, the weight of her words settling in your chest. You hadn’t talked to Hollis since the show. Not really. A couple likes. One “we did that” text. Nothing deep.

But that night on stage wasn’t the last time you and Hollis saw each other and you both knew it.

A new Rick Owens store had just opened in L.A., and both of you were on the guest list. An afterparty was being thrown at a bar not too far from the venue, packed with other artists and influencers.

You showed up with your manager, already a bit tipsy from the champagne flutes passed around at the event. The music was loud, the lighting moody, and everyone was dressed like they were trying not to look like they were trying.

You spotted Hollis across the room almost immediately. He looked good better than he should in that dim light, dressed down in all black, casually leaning against the bar beside Roman and another guy you didn’t recognize, who you later found out was Nate.

He hadn’t seen you yet. Or maybe he had and was just taking his time. Either way, you didn’t move toward him. You stayed where you were, finishing your drink, your manager deep in a conversation with someone from a label.

Eventually, your manager slipped away to say hi to someone from Vogue, and you wandered over to the bar, partly out of curiosity, partly because you were feeling just bold enough to.

Hollis noticed you this time. He turned before you even made it halfway, his eyes locking on you like he’d been expecting it.

He said something to Roman, who smirked and looked at you two like he already knew how the night was going to play out.

“You clean up nice,” Roman called over his drink, eyes dragging down your outfit and back up again. “Didn’t know Rick did angel-core.”

You raised a brow. “Didn’t know you spoke runway.”

“I don’t,” he grinned, licking the rim of his glass. “But I know pretty when I see it.”

Hollis chuckled, shaking his head. “Ignore him. He gets flirty when the lighting’s moody.”

“And the company’s good,” Roman added.

You slid in between the two of them at the bar, ordering something with ginger and lime, feeling the way both their eyes lingered a little too long but not long enough to call out.

“So,” Hollis said, tone casual but his gaze anything but, “you’re just gonna come in here and act like you didn’t blow the roof off last week?”

You laughed. “I think you were the one doing the heavy lifting.”

“Nah,” Roman cut in, sipping his drink. “It was the way you two were looking at each other on stage. Whole room felt it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Were you taking notes?”

“Something like that,” he shrugged. “Just wondering if the chemistry’s part of the performance… or a preview.”

Hollis shot him a look, amused but pointed. Roman just raised both hands like don’t mind me.

You tried to keep a straight face, but your smile betrayed you. “Y’all always like this?”

“Only around people we like,” Hollis said, low.

You held his gaze. “Flattering.”

“True,” he said. “But also true.”

Your drink arrived, cold glass brushing your fingertips. You took a sip, letting the citrus bite pull you back to earth.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, glancing between them. “Just stand around here flirting with me all night?”

Roman leaned in slightly. “Is that a problem?”

You smirked. “Didn’t say it was.”

Hollis chuckled, eyes never fully leaving yours. “Well, if we’re not just here to flirt, what is the plan?”

You took another sip, letting the silence stretch just enough. “Actually,” you said, setting the glass down, “I’ve been working on something.”

That caught his attention. He tilted his head slightly. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “New project. Real different from what I’ve done before. Rough edges, still weird, but cleaner. Still figuring it out.”

Roman leaned on the bar, clearly eavesdropping. “When you say different, you mean like… industry-approved different or ‘my label hates this but I’m obsessed with it’ different?”

“The second one,” you said with a laugh. “Definitely the second one.”

Hollis’s grin widened. “Now I’m interested.”

“I’ve got some demos,” you offered, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “Nothing finished, just sketches.”

Hollis didn’t miss a beat. “Then let’s bounce.”

You blinked, caught off guard by how simple he made it sound. “What, now?”

“Unless you’re scared I’ll hate it,” he said, teasing but not unkind.

You narrowed your eyes. “Bold of you to assume I care what you think.”

He smirked. “You do.”

You paused, watching him. Then shrugged. “Fine. My place’s closer anyway.”

Roman raised his glass in mock salute. “Y’all have fun. I’ll tell Nate you eloped.”

You shook your head, setting your glass on the bar. “Thanks, Roman. Truly a man of grace.”

“Tell Hollis to behave,” he called after you both as you turned toward the exit.

“He won’t,” you shot back over your shoulder.

Hollis followed, a step behind, his hand grazing the small of your back

Twenty minutes later, you were back at your apartment. The city was quiet outside your windows, soft orange haze bleeding through your curtains. You kicked off your boots at the door, Hollis trailing behind you in that relaxed way he always had like he was already at home.

Your laptop was still on the coffee table, next to a pair of headphones and a half-used notebook.

“You want the aux or should I drive?” you asked, already crouching to plug in the cable.

“Play me what you hear,” Hollis said, sinking into your couch like he’d been there before.

You queued up a folder labeled “???” and hit play.

The first track that filled the room was haunting glitchy vocals, layered texturess. It didn’t ask to be liked. It just existed, unapologetic.

You watched him as he listened. Eyes closed. Head tilted slightly. No words, just focus.

When the song faded, he opened his eyes slowly. “Run that back.”

You did. Then another. Then another.

By the time the third track ended, he was sitting forward, elbows on knees.

“You’re doing something different here,” he said. “Like… no one’s in this lane. This is your own shit.”

That made you pause, heart skipping slightly.

You cleared your throat. “Thanks. That means a lot coming from you.”

He looked over at you, the space between you now feeling charged all over again.

“You know we should make more, right?” he asked. “Not just one track. I mean real shit. A full thing. You and me.”

You met his gaze, pulse humming beneath your skin. “I’ve thought about it.”

“Think harder,” he said, voice lower now. “Cause if you’re down, I’m in.”

The track still played softly in the background, the room dim except for the glow from your screen. You thought about what your manager said, about how the dating rumors were good for marketing, how looking good together sells.

But you didn’t want that. You didn’t want something real, something honest, to be reduced to optics. This connection between you and Hollis it wasn’t just about appearances.

“I’d love to,” you said, easing down beside him on the couch. “But I don’t want people thinking we’re dating.”

Hollis turned toward you slightly, his expression unreadable, one brow raised. “Is that a bad thing?”

You met his eyes, heart skipping for just a second. “It is if that’s the only reason people pay attention.”

He leaned back, letting out a low breath. “I’m not trying to make a PR move, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You looked at him, studying his face in the soft light. “So why me, then? Why even reach out back then?”

He didn’t blink. “Because you’re good. Really good. I don’t work with people just because they look cool in a feed. You hear different. You feel different. That’s rare.”

Your breath caught in your throat not just at the words, but at how sincerely he said them. 

“And if I happen to like how you look at me when you’re singing…” he added, voice dropping slightly, “that’s just extra.”

You didn’t say anything. Just looked at him. Let the silence stretch, warm and charged.

He leaned in a little, close enough for you to feel the shift in his energy. “Unless you’re the one worried people will get the wrong idea.”

“I’m not worried,” you said, voice softer now.

“Good,” he murmured, eyes on your lips. “Because I don’t really care what they think.”

The air between you tightened. The music in the background faded into something slower, as if the universe was in on the moment.

Your legs were barely touching on the couch, but it felt electric. One small move, and you’d be in his space completely.

You didn’t move.

Neither did he.

“Tell me to stop,” he said low, eyes still locked on yours.

But you didn’t.

He leaned in, his hand gently cupping your jaw, thumb brushing just beneath your cheekbone. And then his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t soft.

It was all tension released at once, the kind that had been building since the studio, since that first message, since the way he looked at you on stage like you were the only thing that mattered in the room.

You kissed him back.

Harder than you meant to, but not more than you wanted to.

His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Your fingers tangled in the hem of his hoodie, anchoring yourself against the gravity of it all.

He pulled away just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against yours. His voice was rough, uneven. “Been wanting to do that since the first take.”

You let out a quiet laugh, dazed. “Took you long enough.”

His mouth brushed yours again—this time slower, more deliberate. “You kept disappearing.”

“You didn’t chase me.”

“I’m here now,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Aren’t I?”

Your hands slid under the edge of his hoodie, fingers meeting warm skin. He stilled for a second, then moved back in, his kiss deeper now, hungrier. His body angled toward yours as you both shifted, the couch suddenly too small for the space you needed.

Your knees bumped against his thigh, and you didn’t pull away. If anything, you leaned in more, your body reacting before your brain could catch up. His hands moved to your waist, slow and sure, like he was memorizing how you fit into his space.

“You sure about this?” he asked, voice low and thick with restraint, though his fingers didn’t stop tracing circles against your hip.

You nodded once, then leaned in until your lips brushed his again, barely there. “You asking ‘cause you care… or ‘cause you want me to say stop?”

His breath caught. “I’m asking,” he murmured, his mouth grazing your jaw, “so I can say I warned you.”

That made you smile smug, charged, your pulse in your ears. “Cute. You think I need a warning.”

He chuckled against your skin, and the sound of it went straight through you. His mouth found the spot beneath your ear again, soft this time, and you tipped your head instinctively.

Then you shifted, just enough to straddle his lap.

His hands stilled at your sides. “Oh,” he said, blinking up at you. “We’re doing this?”

You raised a brow, feigning innocence. “Thought you didn’t care what people think.”

“I don’t,” he said, voice dropping again, “but I care what you want.”

You bit your lip, considering it for a beat too long. “Right now?” Your hands slid up his chest. “I want you to stop being so sweet and kiss me like you mean it.”

He didn’t hesitate after that.

One arm locked around your waist, the other threading into your hair as he pulled you down, lips meeting yours with heat that said finally. Your hips shifted without thinking, just enough to feel the tension building between you. 

He pulled back slightly, breath ragged, eyes locked on yours. His thumbs rubbed small circles into your waist like he wasn’t quite ready to let go yet. Like he didn’t want to.

“You keep kissing me like that,” he said, voice rough, “and I’m gonna start writing songs about it.”

You laughed, cheeks flushed. “Pretty sure you already have.”

He smirked but didn’t deny it.

You rested your forehead against his, your voice softer now. “What are we doing, Hollis?”

He breathed in like he was trying to steady himself, like you asking made it real.

“Whatever this is,” he said slowly, “it’s good. I don’t wanna mess it up. And I don’t want it to be just… this.” He motioned vaguely between your bodies. “I want to keep building. With you. On and off the mic.”

You blinked. The heat in your chest shifted still burning, but different now. 

Then he added, eyes flicking up to yours again, cautious but hopeful: “I’ve been thinking about the next leg of my tour. And I know your schedule’s wild, but…” He exhaled. “Would you ever want to come with me? Not as, like, my plus-one or whatever. As an artist. We could perform the track. Maybe more. Bring something new to the set.”

Your heart skipped. You weren’t expecting that not tonight, not like this.

You searched his face, trying to read between the lines. But there wasn’t anything hidden there. Just honesty.

You tilted your head, smiling. “Is this your way of saying you want to spend more time with me?”

He grinned, a little crooked. “It’s my way of saying I don’t want to stop this”

Your fingers brushed against the back of his neck. “Lemme think about it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That a maybe?”

“That’s a hell yeah, but I’m pretending to play hard to get.”

He laughed, pulling you back in by the waist. “I’ll take it.”

He kissed you again, all smile and promise, and in that moment, it felt less like a maybe and more like the start of everything.

[bl3upi3]

Something About Hollis

Check out part 2

Summary: While in New York for a Miu Miu campaign, rising artist Y/N shares a spontaneous beat on her Instagram story catching the attention of underground favorite 2Hollis. What starts as a simple DM turns into an unexpected late-night call.

A/N: Short 2Hollis one-shot. Not sure if I’m gonna turn it into a full fic or a series yet.

You’ve been a music artist on the scene for about two years now, blowing up thanks to TikTok. You’ve been making music for as long as you can remember, starting with the basics like piano and guitar. But when you discovered the underground scene, you wanted your music to be more creative, more experimental. You had some monthly listeners, but you really blew up about a year ago after that feature with Jane Remover.

Jane found you and your music really interesting. Your lyrics were meaningful, and your art felt genuinely beautiful. She discovered you by chance, stumbling across one of your TikToks and reached out wanting to collaborate. It changed everything for you: more recognition, more listeners, and now a solid fanbase.

Recently, you opened for one of Charli XCX’s concerts, and that’s when everything really changed. You had to get a real manager because so many companies and artists wanted to collaborate with you. It was overwhelming at first. You still played in underground clubs sometimes, even for free it was a strategic move, keeping your roots while navigating the industry.

One day, while you're in New York City for a Miu Miu shoot for their latest campaign, you post a messy beat on your Instagram story, just something to entertain your fans while you wait for the makeup artist to finish. Out of curiosity, you start checking the replies for feedback. That’s when you notice a DM from a verified account: “this goes stupid. u tryna build on it?” You check the @ it’s from 2Hollis. You pause, squint at the name, and realize you’ve seen it before in some TikTok comment section.

Isn’t that the guy all the girls have been talking about lately? Something like, “my white tiger” type shit? you think to yourself.

You turn to the makeup artist.

“Do you know 2Hollis?” you ask.

She pauses, brush in hand, then raises her eyebrows.

“Obviously. Who doesn’t? He’s like, TikTok’s favorite sadboy.”

You hum, glancing back at the DM. You didn’t expect him to reach out.

You tap out a reply without overthinking it: “yeah sure. u got something in mind?”

You lock your phone and lean back in the chair as the makeup artist starts on your eyeliner. But your mind’s somewhere else now half curious, half suspicious. You’ve seen artists reach out before just to ride a wave. But something about the way he worded it felt casual, unbothered. Like he wasn’t chasing anything.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzes again.

“i got this loop i’ve been sitting on. think you’d sound crazy on it. can i send?”

You unlock your phone again, typing back: “send it.”

Not even thirty seconds later, there’s a Dropbox link sitting in your inbox. You throw your AirPods in and press play, eyes half-lidded as the track builds. It’s glitchy, dark, and oddly soft around the edges like it's falling apart on purpose. The drums stutter in weird places, the synths warped just enough to feel like a memory.

Huh. He’s good.

You listen to it again. And again. By the third play, you’ve already opened your voice notes app and started humming something over the chorus.

You don’t even bother being formal. You shoot him a voice memo: “okay wait. this is actually sick. let me sketch something out tonight.”

You expect him to leave you on seen or at least take a while to respond. Instead, it’s instant: “bet. i’m around if you wanna hop on a call.”

Call? You stare at your phone like it’s got a second head. No one calls anymore. Especially not for music stuff not unless they’re old school or serious.

You stare at the message, thumb hovering over your screen. A call? In the middle of a Miu Miu campaign shoot? Not happening.

“i’m not available right now but tonight if that’s okay w you,” you reply.

“yeah cool. i’ll be around.”

You put your phone face-down on the vanity and exhale. The makeup artist’s almost done now, dusting shimmer along your cheekbones like she’s painting armor. But your head’s buzzing not with fashion, not with flashing cameras, but with that loop. 

Later that night, when the shoot's wrapped and your heels are finally off, you're sitting cross-legged on the hotel bed with your laptop open and mic set up beside you. You press record and start sketching layering in harmonies, mumbling half-finished lyrics that don’t make sense yet but feel right.

There’s something easy about the track. Like it’s pulling something out of you you didn’t realize was there.

At 11:12 PM, you send him a rough snippet. Nothing too polished just enough to show you’re taking it seriously.

Not even five minutes later, your phone rings.

You hesitate for a second, then swipe to answer.

“Yo,” his voice comes through, low and a little grainy. Background noise filters in too, someone laughing, the faint hum of music, the unmistakable sound of a lighter flicking.

“Hey,” you say, settling back into your pillows.“Didn’t expect you to actually call this fast.”

“Didn’t expect you to actually send something this good,” he shoots back, smooth but not in a fake way. “You sound fire on it already.”

You hear another voice in the background deeper, louder.

“Tell her it’s the loop of the year!” someone yells, clearly not knowing or caring that you’re on the line.

Hollis sighs. “Ignore him. That’s Roman. He thinks everything I make is ‘loop of the year.’”

You smirk. “Right. You got a whole committee back there or something?”

Another voice chimes in, this one cooler, more deadpan. “Nah, just a couple of degenerates with good ears. You’re talking to Conceal, by the way.”

“Hi… Conceal,” you say, unsure if you're supposed to know him.

Hollis cuts back in. “Anyway. I meant to say  I’ve actually been keeping an eye on your stuff for a while.”

That catches you off guard. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Think the first thing I heard was that Jane track. Someone had posted a clip of it on Twitter. Then I checked your page and you were just… making weird, beautiful shit. Real different. It stuck with me.”

You pause, fingers brushing over the edge of your laptop. There’s a lot of fake praise in the industry. Hollow compliments dressed in lowercase cool. But he doesn’t sound like he’s selling you anything.

“I figured you probably had no idea who I was,” he adds, and there’s a little laugh in his voice now. “Which, honestly, kinda made me want to reach out more.”

“I’d heard of you,” you admit. “TikTok girls were thirsting over you.”

You hear Roman immediately burst out laughing in the background. “Let’s goooo! She clocked you, bro.”

Hollis groans. “Please. Don’t feed into that.”

“You are kind of infamous,” you tease, letting the corner of your mouth curve into a smirk. “Some of those edits are crazy. Like…”

“Jesus Christ,” Hollis mutters. “I swear I just breathe and someone turns it into a fan cam.”

“Sounds exhausting,” you say, not entirely sarcastic.

“It is,” he replies. Then softer, “But the music’s what matters. Everything else is noise.”

There’s a small silence between you, like a low tide pulling back.

You glance at the track still open on your laptop. “Well, for what it’s worth… I get it. That loop? It’s not just cool. It feels like something. Like you meant it.”

For a second, you think he won’t respond. Then: “I did.”

In the background, Conceal says, way too casually, “This whole phone call feels like a slow-burn A24 scene.”

You laugh out loud, sharp and real. “Okay, who are you guys?”

“Artists,” Roman replies. “Annoying ones. But artists.”

You lean back into your pillows again, voice softer now. “Cool. Well… I’m glad you reached out.”

“Me too,” Hollis says. Then: “You free tomorrow?”

“No,” you say, stretching your legs out on the bed. “I’m kind of busy with that whole Fashion Week stuff.”

“Ohhh, Fashion Week,” Roman says, dragging it out like a tease. “She’s fancy.”

“So you also a model?” Hollis asks, voice curious but not mocking.

You roll your eyes, even though no one can see it. “Not exactly. Brands just like putting me in weird clothes and calling it a vision.”

“Sounds like modeling,” Conceal mutters.

You shrug. “I guess. I just show up, wear the fits, smile like I know what I’m doing, and pray I don’t trip on the runway.”

“That’s real artistry,” Roman deadpans.

You laugh. “Yeah, I’m basically couture’s clown.”

“Nah,” Hollis says, and his tone shifts just slightly. “You’re kind of everywhere right now. Music, fashion, all of it. But it doesn’t feel… fake. You still sound like yourself.”

That hits unexpectedly deep. You blink, caught off guard by how sincere it sounds.

“Thanks,” you say, quieter. “I try.”

There’s a pause, like the air just got a little thicker.

“Alright,” Hollis says, breaking it gently, “then we’ll figure it out. When you’re done being New York’s most stylish menace, pull up to the studio. No pressure.”

You smile to yourself, biting your lip a little. “Yeah. I’ll let you know when I’m free.”

“Cool,” he says. “Sleep well, superstar.”

The call ends, but your phone stays in your hand a moment longer.

[bl3upi3]

Hi my little Gooners!

Mama’s back! I’ve been really busy lately, but I’ve also been reading and writing a lot—mainly in French, since it’s my first language (and I’m honestly terrible at it ).

But I really want to write some 2Hollis/Rommulas/Conceal/Nettspend fanfics (maybe even some smut ).

Do y’all have any ideas?

[bl3upi3]

Serious question, when you read “y/n” do you imagine it with your actual name, a made up name or you just read it like it’s a name ?

Cause for me y/n is a person who’s called “your name” like does it make sense?

[bl3upi3]

Let it cook but I shall serve you a good smut

[bl3upi3]

A Night to Remember | Monkey D. Luffy

Part 1

Summary: After a year, fate brings you back to Luffy. He's mad at you, but not for long.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, p in v unprotected, mean Luffy ? quicky kinda rushed ? blowjob (I'm bad with warnings)

A/N: Finally posting part 2, sorry for the waiting but I didn’t feel like writing during school. But yeah here we are with a really bad part 2 English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes. (My requests are open if wanted)

Luffy couldn't go a single night without dreaming about you, even though it had been months since your first encounter. You seemed like a haunting presence, always on his mind.

Your memory clung to him like a persistent specter, visiting his thoughts each night without fail. No matter how many adventures he embarked upon, your image remained a constant presence, an enigmatic ghost that he couldn't shake.

One evening, you and your adventurous crew found yourselves at a bustling waterfront bar. Just as was your customary style, you confidently ordered a round of drinks, setting a lively and infectious tone for the evening. The crew gathered around a large wooden table, laughter and chatter filling the air as you shared stories of your recent exploits. 

However, fate had other plans in store for you. A moment later, you excused yourself from the table and headed towards the restroom. As you walked through the bustling bar, you couldn't help but notice a pair of familiar faces at the bar itself—a fiery orange-haired girl and a boy with vivid green hair, deep in conversation.

Continuing on your path, you soon arrived at a secluded booth where a lone boy sat, his head lowered, a distinctive straw hat atop his head. And then, like a lightning bolt, it hit you.

 As you approached the booth, a strange sense of déjà vu washed over you. The boy with the straw hat remained unaware of your presence, his attention focused on the worn map spread out before him. His face was partly obscured, but his unmistakable trademark hat confirmed your suspicions.

It was Luffy.

Your heart raced as you stood there, grappling with a whirlwind of emotions. A year had passed since your first encounter, and you had often wondered if you'd cross paths with him again. Now, here he was, mere inches away, seemingly oblivious to your presence.

You reached out and gently took the straw hat from his head, placing it on your own. The boy lifted his head to gaze at you. He raised his head to look at you, but didn't say a word. It was almost surreal.

You couldn't believe your eyes. After all this time, you had reunited with him when you thought it might never happen.

"Monkey D Luffy," you whispered, tracing your fingers gently along his face, taking in all his distinct features.

His eyes squinted as he tried to make sense of the situation. Then, it hit him like a tidal wave—the face he could never forget, the face that had haunted his days and nights.

He stared at you, disappointment and disbelief mingling in his expression, shaking his head. He couldn't fathom how, after you had left him, you were now standing before him once more.

“Y/N," Luffy muttered your name, his voice laced with bitterness and hurt. 

Luffy's gaze remained locked onto yours, his eyes a turbulent mix of anger and confusion. The once warm and inviting spark that had ignited between you two was now a smoldering ember of resentment.

"I didn't expect to see you again," Luffy said coldly, his voice lacking the usual enthusiasm. "Especially not here."

You could sense the bitterness in Luffy's words, and your heart sank. The reunion wasn't at all what you had hoped for. You knew you had a lot of explaining to do, but it seemed that Luffy's emotions were too raw for a calm conversation. You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to mend what had been broken.

"Luffy," you began, your voice filled with sincerity, "I know this is unexpected, and I understand if you're angry. But please, let me explain."

You pulled up a chair and sat down across from him, the straw hat still resting on your head. The bar's lively atmosphere seemed to dim around you as you focused on Luffy.

"I never wanted to disappear from your life like I did," you continued, your gaze unwavering. "After that day we met, I had to leave for reasons I couldn't control. It tore me apart, Luffy. I never stopped thinking about you, dreaming about you. You've been a constant presence in my thoughts."

Luffy's anger seemed to waver as he listened to your words. His brows furrowed, but he didn't interrupt.

"I've been searching for you, Luffy," you confessed. "I've traveled across islands and oceans, hoping to find you again. And now, fate has brought us back together."

Luffy's expression softened slightly, and he leaned back in his chair, still regarding you with a mix of emotions.

"I don't expect you to forgive me right away," you continued. "But please know that I never wanted to hurt you. I care about you more than I can express. I want to make things right, to be a part of your adventures again, if you'll have me."

A heavy silence hung between you, broken only by the distant echoes of laughter and music from the bustling bar. Luffy remained silent, his thoughts hidden behind a mask of contemplation. But then, without a word, he stood up, his hand reaching for the hat perched on your head.

Startled, you rose abruptly, calling out his name. "Luffy!" you exclaimed, rushing to your feet and following him as he walked toward a dimly lit corridor.

He paused in the middle of the corridor, his back to the door, which he pushed open as you drew closer. You couldn't decipher his emotions, but you followed him into the room. He stopped, towering over you, his face mere inches from yours.

"Talk to me," you whispered, your voice filled with yearning, your eyes locked onto his, searching for a glimmer of understanding "Please…"

Luffy's gaze shifted to the neckline of your top, and his lips parted just enough for him to inhale sharply. Before you could react, however, he closed the distance, kissing you passionately. Your hands moved automatically, wrapping themselves firmly around his broad shoulders while his arms snaked around your waist. He held you as if you would disappear any second.

Your lips moved against his as your heart pounded fiercely within your chest, unable to resist him. You felt his tongue slowly slip between your lips, and you groaned softly as you lost yourself in the passion  of the kiss, allowing him to guide you. 

Finally, you both came to a stop, panting heavily. For several moments, neither of you said a word. You looked up to meet his piercing stare,  and it sent chills throughout your body as memories flashed in your head—of that night. All the feelings of longing, love, desperation, and desire rushed back like an avalanche, threatening to crush you underneath its weight. You struggled to remain composed, yet Luffy didn't seem to be affected one bit by the intensity of your emotions. 

"You want to make it up to me ?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes burned, pleading you to agree.

 You nodded in reply, knowing full well that whatever he offered, you would follow regardless. ""Tell me how." You breathed shakily, your fingers lightly grazing the side of his face. 

 Luffy gazed into your eyes, his gaze unreadable. "Get on your knees" he demanded.

Despite your reluctance, your feet immediately obeyed his instructions, and you knelt at his feet.  He grabbed hold of your chin, tilting your face upward until your eyes met. His hand lingered on your cheek, brushing a strand of hair away from your eye.

 Your eyelashes fluttered ever so slightly as your breathing slowed to a steady rhythm. Your hands went to the waistband of his shorts, slowly pushing them downwards until they fell to the floor. Your fingertips grazed over his skin, feeling the warmth emanating from beneath.  Luffy's cheeks grew redder with each passing moment, his eyes darkening even further as you stroked his lower half. He tried to keep his seriousness but you knew he wouldn't last  long; soon, he'd be overwhelmed by your touch.

His eyes flickered shut, his breathing growing ragged as  your fingers made their way slowly towards his member.  With your fingers wrapped around his length,  you began to pump slowly, savoring the sensation of his arousal pulsating under your touch.  Luffy moaned quietly , his head falling back as he released a shaky breath. 

The sounds he made caused a pool of heat to form between your legs as you continued to play with him. You were becoming aroused with each pass of your hand. But it wasn't enough you needed to taste him. You ran your tongue along the tip of his cock, earning another low moan from the raven haired man. You took the shaft into your mouth, sucking gently as you continued to pump him.

"Fuck Y/N," Luffy panted.  As he spoke, he gripped your hair tightly. "Keep going."

You complied. You licked his length once more before moving your mouth up and down his erection in small laps, occasionally sucking on his tip and making small noises of pleasure.

Luffy's grip tightened even more. “God, Y/N,” he groaned. “If you keep this up, I'M GONNA COME!”

You smirked and resumed pumping him harder. He was getting close.  You moved your mouth faster and faster, working him harder with every stroke. Finally, your eyes widened when you felt his seed spurting from his tip, filling your mouth.  You swallowed the sticky liquid greedily, swallowing everything, relishing in the feel of him. He growled lowly and pulled you roughly to your feet, placing your front against a table and pressing his chest against your back. 

"Promise me you will never leave again" he whispered against your ear as his hands roamed down your body, caressing and stroking every inch. His words, spoken so tenderly, struck you deeply.

"Promise me," he repeated more forcefully. His breathing quickened, his erection throbbing painfully against your ass. "Never abandon me again."

"I promise," you replied softly before turning you head to kiss him as you lifted your skirt , eager to feel him touching you again.  You let go of the kiss when you felt his knee between your thighs, forcing you to  bend forward. He positioned himself,  his hardness already poking through your folds, and entered you with one swift movement.

 He pressed his lips against your shoulder and buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting out a shuddery sigh. His hands were tangled in your hair as he thrust in and out of you, keeping his pace slow and gentle . His movements were controlled and precise, and you loved it.

You were surprised by his improvement and wondered if he had been with another woman. But the thought didn't last long as he began to move faster, his hips slamming against you in short bursts.

 You clutched the edge of the table, your teeth gritted as you felt your walls tighten around him, causing him to moan loudly against your neck. His pace increased gradually, and you found yourself moaning in response.

You gasped when he hit the spot inside you that had been waiting for months.  Your nails dug into the wood of the table as you squeezed your legs together, your whole body trembling as your climax started to build up. You threw your head back on his shoulder as your orgasm consumed you, taking control of you completely, leaving you vulnerable and weak.

You felt him tense as he released inside you, his hands gripping your hips tightly  as he emptied himself into you.

It took a few moments for your mind to catch up with your senses, and you turned to meet Luffy's intense gaze. His eyes bore into yours, a mixture of concern and affection evident in his expression.

"I'm so-" he began, but you hushed him with a tender kiss, not allowing him to finish his sentence.

"I was angry," he confessed in a soft murmur, his lips still lightly brushing against yours.

"You had every right to be," you reassured him as you reached up to lovingly caress his face.

Luffy chuckled warmly as he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours, his arms remaining securely wrapped around you. You closed your eyes, relishing the closeness and the warmth of the moment. The tension that had gripped both of you just moments ago had dissipated, replaced by an overwhelming sense of connection.

"I can be a real idiot sometimes," Luffy admitted, his voice tinged with remorse. He affectionately nuzzled your cheek, planting gentle kisses along your jawline. "But I promise, I'll make it up to you."

A genuine, loving smile crossed your face, easing the turmoil in Luffy's heart. "It's all my fault; I should have never left you," you replied, your voice laced with guilt and remorse. "You don't have to be perfect, Luffy. I love you, flaws and all."

Taken aback by your heartfelt words, Luffy's face lit up with a wide, joyful grin. "You love me?!"

You nodded, a warm smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "With all my heart, Luffy," you confessed, your eyes reflecting the depth of your emotions.

A/N: Hope you liked it, so sorry again for the waiting. I feel like this part is really bad and messy but still hope you enjoyed it a little. I will probably make a part 3 just to finish this collection. Anyways, don’t hesitate to give other ideas, my requests are open :)

[bl3upi3]

[bl3upi3]

My request are open here are the characters/people I’d like to write about :

One piece

Monkey D.Luffy

Roronoa Zoro

Usopp

Nami

House of Dragons

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen

Aegon Targaryen

Jacaerys Velaryon

Daemon Targaryen

Game of Thrones

Daenerys Targaryen

Jon Snow

Theon Greyjoy

Robb Stark

The summer I turned pretty

Jeremiah Fisher

Conrad Fisher

Belly Conklin

Steven Conklin

The walking dead

Rick Grimes

Negan Smith

Daryl Dixon

Euphoria

Nate jacobs

Maddy Perez

Fezco

Irl

2hollis

Rommulas

Conceal

Nettspend

Pedro Pascal

[bl3upi3]

A Night to Remember | Monkey D. Luffy

Part 2

Summary: In the midst of a disaster at sea, your crew encounters the Straw Hat Pirates led by Monkey D. Luffy. After initial skepticism, you accept their help, and amidst the chaos, a deep connection forms between you and Luffy. The night brings passion, revealing mutual feelings.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, p in v unprotected (I'm bad with warnings)

A/N: This is straight out of my imagination. I just watched the live action and am thinking of starting the anime so yes, this work is a messy mix of anything and everything. English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes. I tried not to change Luffy's personality as much as I could. (My requests are open if wanted)

As you and your crew sailed through the unpredictable waters of the Grand Line, the tranquility of the day shattered in an instant. A violent collision rocked the sturdy vessel as it struck an unyielding underwater rock, tearing through the boat's hull with a heart-wrenching screech of rending wood. The impact sent shockwaves of fear rippling through your crew, their faces etched with stark dread as they grasped the gravity of the situation.

Chaos ensued as you scrambled to assess the extent of the damage, your hands slick with seawater as you desperately tried to gauge the severity of the breach. Panic gnawed at your senses, every second feeling like an eternity, and uncertainty hung heavy in the salt-tinged air.

As if orchestrated by the very elements themselves, a thick and disorienting fog descended upon you with an eerie swiftness, obscuring your vision and muffling any sounds beyond the boat. It was as though the elements had conspired to further complicate your dire predicament, isolating your vessel in an unsettling cloak of obscurity.

Your heart pounded within your chest as the realization settled in—the lives of your crew hinged upon your quick thinking and resourcefulness. Yet, amidst the silence of the disaster, a creaking sound pierced the air. You yielded your place to a member of your crew to investigate the source of the noise.

As you strained your eyes to peer through the dense fog, a white boat with a sheep-shaped figurehead slowly materialized before you. Your gaze instinctively rose to the flag fluttering from its mast—a skull-headed emblem adorned with a distinctive straw hat—a flag of pirates.

"Hey there! It looks like you could use some help," a figure standing on the edge of the approaching vessel called out.

"Who are you?" you inquired, squinting in an attempt to discern the identity of the mysterious individual.

"I'm Monkey D. Luffy, the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates! The fog swallowed us up, and we stumbled upon your beleaguered vessel, which doesn't seem to be in the best shape," he cheerfully replied.

You and your crew exchanged glances, unsure of how to react to this unexpected turn of events.

With a cautious tone, you responded, "I appreciate your offer, Monkey D. Luffy, but we can't be too careful out here. We've just suffered a terrible collision, and our ship is badly damaged. How can we trust that your intentions are genuine?"

Luffy grinned widely, his boundless energy seemingly undeterred by your skepticism. "I get it; you're being cautious. That's a good trait to have out here. But you've got my word. We're not here to harm you. We're pirates, yeah, but we're not the bad guys!"

As he spoke, Luffy's crew members began to emerge from the fog, appearing on the deck of their ship one by one. Each of them had a distinct look and demeanor, but there was something about them that suggested they were not the typical ruthless pirates one might encounter.

One of Luffy's crewmates, a man with green hair added, "We're just passing through these waters, and we've had our fair share of adventures. We know what it's like to be in a tight spot. We're offering our help because it's the right thing to do."

You considered their words and looked at your own crew. They were still on edge, but the desperation of your situation was evident. Your ship was taking on water faster than you could bail it out, and the fog showed no signs of dissipating. It was a perilous situation, and you needed all the help you could get.

After a moment of deliberation, you turned back to Luffy and said, "Alright, we'll accept your offer of help. But know this, if there's any treachery or harm intended for my crew, we won't hesitate to defend ourselves."

Luffy's face lit up with excitement "Deal! You won't regret it! We'll get your ship fixed up in no time!"

A wooden plank was placed between the two boats, allowing you and your crew to board the white vessel. Luffy spoke with enthusiasm, "Welcome to the Going Merry," offering his hand for you to shake.

You looked around at his small crew, taking note of each member. However, you didn't shake Luffy's hand just yet. Instead, your gaze settled on his comrades. Luffy followed your gaze and introduced them, "This is Roronoa Zoro," pointing to the green-haired guy who had spoken earlier, "This is Nami, Usopp, and Sanji," revealing the rest of his crew whom you hadn't seen yet.

"I hope you're hungry," the blond-haired Sanji said with a smile, "I've prepared a meal fit for thousands."

As your crew members cautiously stepped onto the Going Merry, they exchanged wary glances, still unsure about this unexpected alliance. But the warm smiles and genuine hospitality displayed by Luffy's crew began to put them at ease, albeit slowly.

You finally shook Luffy's hand, sealing the agreement. "Thank you for coming to our aid, Monkey D. Luffy. We appreciate your help, and we'll do our part to assist as well."

“You can call me Luffy” he smiled

"Thank you, Luffy," you replied with a nod. "I'm y/n, the captain of this crew. We're in your debt."

With introductions made and a mutual understanding established, the two crews set to work. Your crew members, alongside Luffy's crew, began assessing the extent of the damage to your ship, while Luffy himself seemed to be filled with boundless energy as he led the charge, making plans and offering assistance wherever needed.

As the day wore on and repairs were underway, you couldn't help but notice the camaraderie among the Straw Hat Pirates. They worked seamlessly together, each member contributing their unique skills to the task at hand. It was evident that they were a tight-knit crew, bound not just by their captain's leadership but by a genuine sense of friendship.

Nami, the crew's navigator, approached you as you oversaw the repairs. "You're lucky we happened upon you," she said with a sly grin. "The Grand Line can be unforgiving to those who sail it unprepared. But don't worry, with our help, you'll be back on your way in no time."

Usopp, the sharpshooter of the crew, chimed in, "And if you ever run into any trouble out here again, just give us a shout. We've got your back."

Sanji, the crew's cook, began preparing a feast for both crews to enjoy together. The aroma of his cooking filled the air, and your crew members couldn't help but be drawn to the delicious scent. It was a welcome respite from the earlier chaos and fear.

As evening fell, and the repairs to your ship neared completion, you gathered with Luffy and his crew around a makeshift table on the deck of the Going Merry. Plates of food were passed around, and laughter filled the air as stories were shared.

It felt so peaceful and normal—it wasn't often that you found yourself enjoying such casual conversation with strangers.

"So, where are you headed next?" Nami asked as she took a sip from her cup of sake.

You shrugged, briefly glancing at your crewmates before responding, "I haven't made up my mind just yet."

Luffy leaned back in his seat, his signature straw hat tilted low over his eyes. "You know, y/n, the Grand Line is full of adventures waiting to happen. We're always looking for new crewmates and allies. You and your crew seem like good people. Ever thought about joining us on the ultimate adventure?"

Your crew members exchanged surprised glances at Luffy's proposition. It was a tempting offer, to say the least. The idea of joining the Straw Hat Pirates and exploring the Grand Line with them was exhilarating, but you knew you couldn't make such a decision on a whim.

You chuckled, trying to defuse the sudden tension in the air. "Well, Luffy, that's a tempting offer, but we've got our own dreams and goals. Maybe our paths will cross again in the future."

Amid the ongoing dinner festivities, you couldn't help but become engrossed in the lively conversation with Nami. It was a refreshing change to find yourself in the company of another woman after what felt like an eternity. You shared an unspoken connection, a bond that went beyond words, stemming from the shared experience of being the sole females in your respective crews. It was as if you both understood the unique challenges and dynamics that came with that role.

Your discussions with Nami ranged from the practicalities of navigation and mapmaking to the more personal aspects of life at sea. You exchanged stories of your adventures, your dreams, and the occasional frustrations that came with your responsibilities. Nami's wisdom and wit resonated with you, and it was clear that you were kindred spirits in many ways.

However, despite your best efforts to focus solely on your conversation with Nami, you felt a steady gaze on the side of your face—Luffy's eyes never left you. He remained leaned back in his chair, contentedly eating and drinking, seemingly absorbed in your every word.

The dinner eventually came to an end, and the crew members of both vessels retreated to their respective quarters for some much-needed rest. You returned to your boat, grateful for the repairs and hospitality of the Straw Hat Pirates.

As you lay in your cabin, trying to find sleep amidst the creaking of the ship and the gentle rocking of the waves, you couldn't help but think about Luffy's offer. The allure of joining his crew and embarking on the ultimate adventure was tantalizing, but your responsibilities as a captain weighed heavily on your mind.

Unable to sleep, you decided to take a walk on the deck of your ship to clear your thoughts. The night was calm, the stars glittering above, and the moon casting a silvery glow over the water.

After your contemplative walk on the deck, you noticed a faint light coming from one of the rooms on Luffy's ship, the Going Merry.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you decided to investigate. The door to the room was slightly ajar, and you could see a warm glow emanating from within.

As you entered the room, you were met with an unexpected sight. Luffy was sitting there,his face illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp atop his desk. His head was resting against the table as he continued to write something down on his notepad.

You cleared your throat, breaking the silence that had engulfed the room

Luffy looked up, his wide grin returning as he noticed your presence. "Hey there, y/n," he greeted, his tone friendly and inviting. "Couldn't sleep either, huh?"

You nodded, stepping further into the room. "Yeah, I wanted to thank you for everything you did today”

Luffy gestured for you to take a seat opposite him, and you obliged, settling into a chair. The room was cozy, filled with maps, navigational tools, and scattered notes that attested to the adventures this crew had undertaken.

"No need to thank me," Luffy said with a shrug. "Helping out is what we do. Besides, it's been fun having your crew around." He then dropped his voice into a whisper having a more serious tone “I appreciated having you around,  y/n."

As you stared into his eyes, you noticed  something in his expression that caught you off guard. His eyes… they were different. In a way, they were filled with longing and desire. 

"Luffy…" you muttered softly, unable to tear your gaze away from the intensity of his eyes. "What's going on? Why are you looking at me that way?"

Luffy sighed deeply getting up of his chair, he walked over to the small window in the room, gazing out at the starry night. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, as if contemplating how to put his feelings into words. Then, he turned back to face you, his usual carefree demeanor giving way to a more serious expression.

"Y/n," he began, "I don't know how to say this the right way, but I can't help how I feel. Ever since we met today, there's been something about you that's drawn me in. I've traveled to countless islands, faced dangerous foes, and encountered all sorts of people, but meeting you felt different. It's like... like I've found something I didn't even know I was searching for."

His confession left you breathless, your heart racing in your chest. This revelation took you by surprise, especially considering it came so soon after your initial meeting. 

You, too, stood up and approached him, "Luffy," you began, your voice soft but filled with warmth, "I can't deny that there's something special about you. But we both know we will never see each other again”

Luffy nodded, his gaze unwavering. "I know that, y/n. But I've always followed my heart, and my heart tells me that you're special. I don't want to let this opportunity slip away without trying." 

As he leaned closer, his eyes locked onto yours,  his hand reaching forward to cradle your cheek in his palm. Your breathing grew shallow, your pulse quickening, as he brought his lips closer to yours.

Before you knew it, his lips were gently pressing against yours, sending tingles throughout your entire body.  A feeling of euphoria overcame you, and your eyes widened as you realized that what you'd felt was real. The kiss lasted longer than you expected, and when you finally pulled back, your heart was pounding so hard inside your chest.

Luffy smiled brightly, "This was a first time for me, y'know?"  

A blush spread across your cheeks as you laughed lightly in response. "Well, then don't stop" you whispered.

He instently crashed his lips on yours again, this time angrier and hungrier. His hands wandered from your waist to your hips, pulling you impossibly close to him until you felt as if you were melting in his embrace. His kiss deepened,  his tongue dancing with yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

There's no need to hold back now, you told yourself. You felt his warm hands caressing your skin, making heat pool between your thighs.

Your hand instinctively reached to remove his hat, but he stopped you, his hand gently grasping your wrist. He paused to look into your eyes for a few heartbeats before releasing you and carefully placing his hat atop your head.

As Luffy's hat settled atop your head, you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions. It was a symbol of trust, a connection that transcended words, and a promise of something more. You gazed into Luffy's eyes  again, still flushed red with passion and arousal.

"Can I be honest with you?" you asked, your hands still resting on his shoulders.

Luffy hesitated for a second before giving a quick nod in return. "Of course", he replied.

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his again " You're a good kisser" you whispered against his lips. 

His lips curled into a slight smirk as he responded "Thanks".You closed your eyes as his lips trailed down to your jawline, leaving soft kisses along the way. His lips traced down your neck, slowly kissing your collarbone.  Your breathing increased, your mind becoming clouded with lust and desire. As your fingers ran through his hair, you felt him smile against your skin. Luffy's warm breath brushed against your ear as he spoke. "Do you want to have sex?" he asked.

His question surprised you, your mind taking a couple seconds to process the request. After all, this wasn't something you usually discussed with anyone. "Umm, I'm sorry. What?" you stuttered.

Luffy chuckled "Don't worry. There's nothing wrong with saying no if you don't want to."

You shook your head in disbelief. “It’s just…” you began, a frown forming on your face as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Are you sure? Do you really want to?” you asked quietly.

Luffy's smile grew wider as he leaned in, bringing his face closer to yours once again. “Yes, I'm sure.”

Your eyes darted to his lips, which were inches away from your own, hesitating for a moment before you moved forward. With your lips barely touching his, you whispered "Then yes..." 

Luffy grinned as he kissed you, his hands slid from your waist to behind your thighs, lifting you off the ground as your legs encircled around his waist. His mouth moved hungrily against yours as he got to his knees, the wood  creaking beneath his weight causing you to moan when you felt his hardness press against you through his pants. 

Your breath hitched in your throat when he began to move his hips slowly, eliciting a gasp from you as you pressed your pelvis against his crotch, feeling his erection harden in response. You moaned louder as you felt him grind his hips forward.

"You'll have to be quiet, everyone's asleep downstairs" Luffy whispered into your ear, moving one of his hands to cup your breast. 

The sound of his voice sent shivers down your spine, your body heating up as his hand moved to the hem of your shirt, removing it and throwing it to the side. You hurried to undo the buttons on his vest, letting it fall to the floor with yours. 

You slide off of him, your heart skipped a beat when he reached down and started unbuttoning his trousers,  pulling them off and tossing them aside. Your gaze drifted lower, noticing his bulge pushing against his black boxers. When you heard him groan, you glanced up at him, seeing his eyes darken in anticipation.

You took off your shorts and underwear, allowing them to fall to the ground next to his clothes. As you crawled towards him and lowered yourself onto his lap once again, he held you tightly, bringing you so close to him that you could feel his beating heart pulsating against your breasts.

"Oh God!" Luffy gasped, his teeth grinding together as he gripped you tighter, grinding you against him. You reached between your bodies, slipping your fingers into his boxer briefs, rubbing them lightly against his length. He let out a low grunt, his hips bucking upwards as you continued teasing his shaft with your touch.

You set him free from the cloth that separates you, and positioning his member against your entrance,  you pushed yourself slowly down onto him, feeling him tense as he entered you completely.

He grunted loudly, his hands clutching tightly onto your thighs as he thrust himself into you, the sensation of being filled filling you with joy. 

Luffy leaned forward, capturing your lips once again in another passionate kiss, his tongue tangling into your mouth. His hand traveled downwards, stopping above your clit as he slowly stroked it. As he did so, you moaned softly into his mouth, your whole body shaking.

"Fuck! Y/n," he gritted out.

"I thought you told me we had to be quiet" you teased, your voice breathy.

Luffy smirked as he rolled his eyes, shifting you slightly on top of him to allow you to continue to ride him.  Your hips thrust upward and downward, faster and faster until you reached an orgasm. Luffy placed his hand on your mouth as you rode your high, his face scrunched up in pure pleasure.

The moment passed, and you sat yourself up, looking down at him, "Sorry" you giggled. "I guess I kind of lost track of myself."

He snorted, "You mean lost track of my dick" he joked.

You laughed softly while playfully hitting his arm, "Yeah well, maybe I got carried away... or perhaps a little bit too excited."

Luffy shrugged, "Maybe a bit, but we're not going to talk about those kinds of things right now. We're both naked and horny, remember?"

"Mhmmm" you hummed as you grabbed him and laid on your back, pulling him atop of you . He gently took the hat off you and set it down somewhere to the left of where your discarded clothes lay.  He then proceeded to take control once again, pushing his cock deeper into you. Your breathing grew rapid, your eyes closed as you relished in the feeling.

Luffy began thrusting rapidly within you, his eyes staring deeply into yours. In response, you grasped onto  his back as your nails lightly dug into his skin.  Sweat dripped from your brow, and your legs quickly wrapped around his waist, pulling him ever further into you until there wasn't an inch of room between you two.

Luffy looked down at you as his thrusts slowed, watching as your chest rose and fell rapidly as you panted lightly.

 He gave you one last loving peck on the lips before returning his attention to his own actions. He pulled out slightly only to slam back in just as hard. Your back arched, causing you to moan loudly as he drove deeper into you. He buried his face in your neck, his teeth grazing the delicate flesh as you cried out with ecstasy.

Luffy's movements became frenzied as his climax overtook him, he withdraws himself from you before his semen spilled onto your stomach. A gasped escaped your lips as you felt his seed drip onto you.

The two of you fell silent, your eyes locked on each other, your chests rising and falling as you caught your breaths.

"Fuck, I thought it was your first time" you said between heavy breathes as you took a nearby tissue to clean you off

Luffy smiled, laying  down beside you "It is" he said out of breath looking at you with lustful eyes.

You gave him a soft smile,  your fingers running through his messy locks as he closed his eyes and sighed in content. 

The night, filled with passion and tenderness, eventually yielded to the creeping light of dawn. Gently, you stirred from the warmth of Luffy's embrace, feeling a pang of bittersweet nostalgia as you reluctantly disentangled yourself.

With a sigh, you rose from the ground, limbs still tingling from the shared intimacy of the night before. The room held the faint fragrance of your encounter, a lingering reminder of the passion that had unfolded.

As you dressed and made yourself presentable, you couldn't help but steal glances at Luffy, who lay in peaceful slumber, his straw hat resting next to him.

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the small window, casting a gentle glow on the room.A sign that the time had come to part ways with the Straw Hat Pirates. Though the night had felt like a dream, reality beckoned, and your own ship awaited.

You bent down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, your heart heavy with unspoken emotions.

As you made your way towards the door, you turned back one last time, taking in the sight of the man who had turned your world upside down in just one night. With a whispered goodbye, you stepped out of the room, leaving behind the memories of an unforgettable encounter.

A/N: Hope you liked it, idk if I should make it a short fic or not. Anyways, don’t hesitate to give other ideas, my requests are open :)

[bl3upi3]

Leave me some request if you want !!!

[bl3upi3]

Twisted Fate | Ethan Landry

Summary: After being attacked by ghostface Reader discovers another side of life. It turns out that you are more attracted to the killer than you think.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, maybe SPOIL ?, p in v unprotected, blood kink, knife play, characters death, choking, violence. Let me know if I've forgotten anything.

A/N: I haven't watched the whole film but Ethan is so hot. This is my first smut so please feel free to give me feedback. English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes. (My requests are open if wanted)

You had worked hard all week and were looking forward to a fun party with your friends. You didn't care much about your appearance, but you had still taken the time to choose a comfortable, casual outfit for the evening.

You had lined up with your friends to get into the party, loud music could be heard from outside the house. When you finally walked through the door, you were immediately surrounded by a crowd of lively and energetic people.

The living room was packed, with people dancing to the music, laughing and chatting. You grabbed a glass of red punch, your favourite drink, and started socialising with your friends and other people you didn't know.

You spotted a cute guy in the corner of the room and approached him. You exchanged smiles and started dancing together to the lively music. It was a perfect evening, everything was going according to plan.

However, everything changed when you went to find a toilet and saw a pool of blood on the floor. You slowly approached it, trying to figure out what had happened. As you got closer, you realised that there were bodies lying on the ground, motionless.

You were horrified, your heart was pounding and you didn't know what to do. You wanted to run away, but something inside you held you back. You had always been drawn to the dark side of life, but never had the opportunity to explore it.

Then you heard loud footsteps behind you. You turned and saw a masked man in a black robe holding a knife in his hand. It was Ghostface.

You didn't panic, you felt alive and excited about taking control. You quickly looked around for anything you could use as a weapon but nothing. Ghostface was already approaching you.

You got into a fighting stance, preparing to dodge his attack. You stepped back a little, watching every move he made. You narrowly dodged his stab, and he tried to hit you again, but this time you managed to block it with your hands.

You quickly thought about how to defend yourself effectively, so you rolled backwards and picked up a glass vase that was on the floor. You threw it at Ghostface, but he dodged it. You continued to look for a way to defend yourself, your eyes scanning the room. Then you saw the knife block on the worktop.

You approached slowly, ready at any moment to dodge an attack. Ghostface followed you, his eyes fixed on you. You reached the knife block and grabbed a knife, turning quickly to face your opponent.

"You want to play?" You challenged. Your voice shook slightly, you had forgotten how good it felt to feel like that. "I'm ready." You smiled.

He doesn't react, raising his own dagger to parry yours. You quickly stabbed downwards and he blocked the cut, grabbing your wrist with one hand. You kicked him in the chest, throwing all your strength into it. He fell onto the ground. You stood above him, glaring down at him.

You raised the knife again, and brought the blade towards his throat. You could hear his heavy breathing under the mask as you came closer, your heartbeat speeding up with every second that passed. You were on top of him, legs pinned around his hips and blade at his throat.

 His arms were stretched out, unable to reach your waist. He seemed defeated. You closed your eyes, thinking about how good it would feel to kill him right now. Your breathing quickens as you decide to remove his mask revealing a curly haired boy looking at you with a smile.

"Ethan ?" You asked. His face is full of surprise, a hint of fear showing in his green eyes. He doesn't say anything, instead, you notice how his grip on your wrists loosens slightly and he tries to push you off of him. You ignore him and press harder against the knife, causing more blood to trickle down his throat. You can see his Adam's apple moving up and down as he swallows hard. You smile at him, a sadistic expression crossing your features.

"It feels good doesn't it" he  asks. "To finally have revenge." Your smile widens even more. You don't hesitate anymore ready to strike. You suddenly stop when Ethan grabs your wrist, stopping the knife in its track. You pull your arm out of his grip, staring down at the blade stuck between his fingers. Blood dripping into his face, he looks at you and smiles with his bloody teeth.

Then you felt it, hard and solid pressing against your core. Your eyes widened in confusion until you realise what was happening. You looked at him, his smile, the blood, the feeling between your legs sent electricity through your whole body. His eyes locked onto yours and he leaned upwards, pressing his lips against yours roughly, almost aggressively. The taste of blood entering your mouth, mixing with your saliva. 

You dropped the knife on the floor next to you and wrapped your hand around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to your body. You broke the kiss, breathing heavily.  You moved away slightly, just enough to see each other better. You were both smiling brightly, euphoria filling you. Seeing that blood on him, his own blood made you feel something new. Something hot.

Without saying a word, you stood up and looked at him. "So now, if you don't want me to kill you, you'll have to fuck me" A slow grin crept over his face. He pushed himself off the ground, grabbing you by the waist, hoisting you up onto the counter, where he positioned you. 

"You don't know how much I wanted you"  he said. He pulled your hips closer, kissing you passionately once more, this time his hands slipping under your dress, caressing the sides of your thighs.

"That's why you killed all this people ?" You whispered after pulling apart. He looked deeply into your eyes, his own filled with passion. You didn't understand how he could be this passionate while being covered in blood and sweat. But you were so attracted to him. And you wanted him too.

"I just wanted to kill that guy you danced with but someone saw me so I took care of all the witnesses" he responded before capturing your lips once more. He kissed you hungrily, making the both of you moan. This wasn't a gentle kiss. This was a lusty, dirty, hungry one. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. You couldn't think straight, but he wasn't letting go, his tongue was deep inside your mouth, caressing your inner walls teasingly. Your hands slipped beneath the hem robe, sliding over his warm skin. He groaned loudly, moving his hips, thrusting against you, grinding into you.

Suddenly he stopped, breaking the kiss, looking down at the knife which had fallen on the ground. He crouched beside it and placed it carefully besides you. Before pulling his robe over his head "Now, I want to play" he said looking at the knife, then to you "Do you wanna play?" you nodded eagerly "Alright then, let's play". 

He removed his clothes and you did the same, he climbed onto the counter next to you and you climbed on top of him, taking the knife as you went. You placed both of your knees on either side of his hips. You stared at his pale, beautiful torso, you placed the tip of the knife at the top of his torso and dragged it delicately towards his belly button, leaving a thin line of  blood following its path. 

He watched you closely, you kept your eyes focused on his face, enjoying the view. He got up on his elbows and looked between you two before you understood. You lifted yourself up slightly, taking him  inside you and sinking down slowly, your eyes fixated on each other.

 He moaned loudly, biting his bottom lip nervously. He started moving his hips rhythmically, giving you complete pleasure. His hands travelled to your hips, holding them firmly.  You could hear him panting, clearly trying to hold back some noises he desperately wanted to make. You lowered yourself to take his lips again.

As soon as you began moving again, he lost control of his body, moaning uncontrollably while gripping you tightly. He threw his head back, his hair falling down in front of his face. You moved your hips faster, , you couldn’t get enough, you needed him. You wanted him.

You broke away from the kiss and ran your hand over the blood that had not yet dried before running it up and down your own body. You gasped when he squeezed your breast gently, bringing a small amount of pleasure to your body as well. 

A low groan escaped your throat, you weren’t sure how much longer you could continue, the sensations were overwhelming. He tightened his grip on your breasts, and you moaned louder than before, pushing down further on him .

 He moaned, his grip never relaxing. You place sloppy kisses against his neck, feeling his excitement build up. He was close, you could feel it, he wasn’t far, he wouldn’t last long.

"I don't want to cum before you" he whispered, his words sending shivers of anticipation throughout your body. Your heart pounded,  you couldn't remember if there had ever been anyone who was able to turn you on like Ethan did.

"Me neither" you confessed. He grabbed your hip and turned you around,  positioning you underneath him. He pressed his lips against yours again, his hands travelling from your hips, trailing up your stomach towards your breasts. When he reached one of them he rubbed his thumb across it, teasing you before slamming back into you. He placed one of his hands on your ass and squeezed it, his other one moving down to your thigh. His movements were quick and forceful, pushing deeper and deeper inside you. 

He continued to slam into you. Harder. Sweeter. More intense. You let out a scream of pleasure, your hips bucking uncontrollably. He was moving quicker and stronger, his grip tightening, keeping you down.

Your orgasm hit you instantly. Everything slowed down. Every muscle, every bone in your body relaxed. You could feel Ethan's grip loosen and you moved your hips, hitting back harder. He grunted in response, tightening his grip once more. He was close. So close. Just a few more steps, a couple more seconds, that's all you needed. 

"Cum inside of me Ethan"  You begged, throwing your head back exposing your neck. You heard a faint growl escape his throat and he immediately released himself inside of you. You let out a sob of satisfaction, feeling him buried deep inside you. You could feel the tension leave his body. His grip on you loosened even more and looked down a you with a smile.

You smiled back "So you won't die a virgin", he looked at you with confusion before before you grabbed the knife and stabbed it into his neck. His blood spilled over your chest, onto your arms. You stared at the red liquid, relishing the feeling. Your eyes trailed over his dead corpse, watching his muscles relax. It was silent for a moment. 

You pushed his lifeless body away before stepping off the counter and getting dressed. Once fully dressed you walked over to the knife sticking out of Ethan's neck and picked it up.  You smiled, placing the knife on the counter before taking his mask in your hand. You put it on , turning around to face your reflection on the window. You smiled at yourself as well, loving what you saw. 

You left the house minutes before the police arrived at the crime scene