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starry-eyes-love · 7 months ago

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Never Letting You Go

Masterlist

Pairing | Agent Javier Pena x Agent F!Reader

Summary | What starts out as a shitty Valentine’s Day turns into everything that you’ve ever wanted. Javi treats you the way you need, by never letting you go.

A/N: First time writing for Javier's character, forgot this was in the vault. Enjoy

(As a reminder I'm no longer doing tag lists, make sure to turn on notifications on my page for when I post).

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI, Smut

Language, angst, mentions of prostitution and Agent work, mentions of the cartel, mentions of cheating (from your previous relationship), grinding, mentions of penetrative sex, soft fluffy moments.

Word Count: 5.5K

“Fuck baby,” he said, grinding against your ass with a little bit more force. “Do you feel that? See, that’s what you fucking do to me woman.” Javi was now rocking harder into you, giving you slow deep thrusts. You could feel his hard outline in his pants as he was seated firmly against you. “This is what you’ve always done to me. I don’t hate you, fuck baby, I like you. I want you. So if you’ll shut up long enough, then maybe you’ll hear me say it.”

Today was Valentine's Day, and usually this was something that didn’t concern Javier Peña. He was a DEA agent that was in the middle of trying to bring down drug dealers and drug lords, he didn’t have time to be concerned about feelings or emotions on a specific day on the calendar. But yet here he was, in the files room pacing back and forth, trying to calm his nerves. Javier was never nervous when it came to the opposite sex. He usually was always so calm, cool, and collected when handling them. Well, except for today that is, and especially when dealing with you. Somehow you had gotten under his skin just enough that now he was pacing back and forth, mind racing of what to do if you didn't like the gift that he just left you on your desk. He was so lost in his own head that he didn’t hear the door open and Steve Murphy step in.

“Javi, what the hell are you-” Steve said, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Javi pacing back and forth, running his hand down his face.

“She ain’t gonna like the gift. Why did you say it was from you and not a secret admirer? Jesus. Soy un idiota (I’m such an idiot).” Javi mumbled to himself.

“You got a lady a Valentine’s gift there Peña?” Murphy said, slamming the files on the desk and causing Javi to jump. Javi just stood there, not answering his friend and fellow DEA agent’s question. Steve, seeing how nervous Javi was, continued to tease him slightly. “Who’s the lucky girl, Peña?”

Before he could answer, they both heard you marching down the hall, yelling, “Peña, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, you arrogant bastard.”

About a year ago you were transferred to Columbia in an attempt to assist in the capture of Pablo Escobar. At first, you were excited about serving your country and bringing the bad guys to justice. That was before meeting your two male DEA partner’s, however. The first time you met Steve Murphy and Javier Peña it was love at first insult. You were the head female DEA agent hired to work alongside them in helping bring down the Medellín Cartel, and subsequently Pablo Escobar. However, your transfer to Columbia somehow pissed both of them off.

Since you had arrived, all those two idiots did was piss you off one way or another. They were the biggest source of your headaches and irritations to date, and one of the biggest reasons why you hated your current job. They wouldn’t listen to you, and they continuously left you out of the loop on information. To make matters worse, when they got bored you were the target of their practical jokes, like today.

Today was Valentine’s Day, and one day on the calendar that you wished you could just completely remove. You hated Valentine’s Day with a passion, ever since you found your ex-fiance balls deep in your sister on Valentine’s Day one year ago. It was after that you found out that the man who you thought loved you had always cheated on you with your sister, from Moment. Fucking. One. You were together five years with him, and apparently all those five years he was also fucking your sister every chance he got. You were happy to hear that her husband caught them in bed and had filed for a divorce. You thought it was poetic how she lost a man who made a shit ton of money for an asshole who could hardly pay rent for his shitty apartment. So when you took the job transfer to Columbia you felt okay with the situation that had happened, as shitty as it sounded.

But then last night your sister called you and informed you that she was getting married, and that she was pregnant too. She advised you that it would be best if you didn’t attend the wedding because of hard feelings the two of you had. When you asked who the soon-to-be husband and dad was, she had informed you that it was your ex-fiance and that they both were happy they found someone that loved them deeply. As soon as you heard that, you told her to ‘go to fucking hell,’ and then slammed the phone down. Out of anger and rage you grabbed the bottle of alcohol that was on the counter, and downed most of it in one go. Yeah, you weren’t going to that fucking wedding.

When you woke up and realized it was Valentine’s Day, you seriously contemplated calling in work sick. But you remembered that you had a morning meeting with your bosses and you knew that Javi and Steve wouldn’t show up. So you begrudgingly got up and showered, swearing underneath your breath of how life wasn’t fair. You hated today, Valentine’s Day, with a passion. Six years ago you met your ex on Valentine’s Day because he was stood up on a date, a date with your sister you found out much later. Then last year, on Valentine’s Day, you caught him cheating with your sister. How did life get so fucked up?

To add to your already sour mood, when you got into work early you noticed that all the rest of the females in the office had big bouquet of flowers on their desks from Javi and Steve. Each of them had a note saying that they really appreciated all the hard work that they have done, and that they were special angels for helping them out. When you got to your desk you didn’t see any flowers or note telling you that you were special. The only note that you saw was from Steve saying “don’t fuck up this meeting” and asked if you took your “anti-bitch pill today yet.” Yeah you hated this fucking day.

The meeting that was only supposed to be an hour went on for three long hours, and you were berated for two out of the three hours in the meeting. You had to once again mop up the mess that both Steve and Javi had created, promising to get results instead of excuses. Recently, all the leads that your department was getting in capturing Escobar were cold, no one had seen him or heard of him in almost a month. Even when you went in and shook the crime tree, nothing fell out of place which made everyone uneasy, especially your superiors.

Finally when the meeting was over with you were able to return to your desk to try to let your heart and blood pressure return to normal. When you approached your desk, you saw a little basket there with a pretty red ribbon with sparkles in it. You looked around quickly to see if anyone noticed or was standing there, you also glanced quickly under your desk to make sure Steve or Javi wasn’t sitting there waiting for you to relax so they could scare you. When you noticed nothing was out of the ordinary you felt your heart flutter in your chest, especially when the tag read “to the most special DEA female agent” in Javier’s handwriting.

At first your heart fluttered, thinking that finally someone, Javi, took the time to give a shit. If you were being honest with yourself, you did like Javier Peña. He was very sexy and attractive. When he wasn’t being an asshole, he was truly sensitive and understood the female sex with their emotions. You thought that he didn’t care anymore about you, but the longer you looked at the name tag on your gift, the more you thought that maybe you were wrong at your assessment. Your heart raced and you felt the heat creep up your neck at the thought that maybe Javi did see you as something more than just an individual who worked with him each day. But when you opened the basket and saw the gift that was laying there for you, your wonder turned into embarrassment as your face fell. Then when you read the note inside you saw red with anger. That bastard took it one step too far this time.

Once Javi heard your voice he suddenly froze, slowly listening to where you were coming from. When he realized that you were getting closer, he glanced over at Murphy with wide, scared eyes. He mouthed “shh, shut the fuck up,” when Steve went to open his mouth to ask Javi something.

As Steve stood there he was trying to understand what the hell his partner had done to anger you so much. He mouthed to Javi ‘what the fuck did you do man?’ Javi just shook his head and placed his finger to his lips to silence Steve’s further questioning. He wasn’t trying to be a coward, but with how angry you were right now, he didn’t want to come face to face with you. Yes, Javi had a knack for pissing you off so much that you’d threaten to kill him. But from how angry you sounded, he figured that if he was standing in front of you right now, that you would in fact shoot him dead.

Javi and Steve continued to stand in silence together for a few minutes. Javi was hoping that you would just continue down the hallway and not stop outside of this door. For a moment it sounded like you had moved on, so much so that Javi felt himself visibly relax and let out a sigh. But that moment was short lived. When Javi heard the door knob turn he quickly said, “shit Murph, lie,” and then he ducked behind one of the filing cabinets against the wall.

“What the-” Steve said, looking confused, but for only a minute as you quickly came bursting through the door seething with anger.

“Murphy, where is he?” you said, steam practically coming out of your ears at how mad and pissed off you were at Javier Peña.

“I don’t-”

“Don’t give me that I don’t know shit. You two are practically glued together at the hip, so where the hell is he?” You bit back, standing right in front of Steve’s face.

“Woah, now wait just a second there princess, don’t be biting my head off. I don’t know where he is, or what he’s done, but you can just curb that attitude of yours and-”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what he’s done. This smells like both Peña and Murphy antics to me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well sorry cariño, I don’t know where he is or what he’s done.”

Huffing, you let out another long sigh, balling your fists up and slamming them tight against your side. “This is what he’s done,” you said, shoving the box you were holding with the card in his face. “And if you happen to see him, you can tell him that I’m looking for him.”

You went to leave, but Murphy blocked your exit saying, “wait a second here princess, don’t go and give me something like this and then take off. Let’s see what’s gotten your panties in a twist.”

“I knew it, it was your idea. I don’t get why you both have to always be so-” But before you could finish Steve had opened the box and saw what was inside it. Steve pulled out a pair of black lace panties that had a vibrator attached to them, and as he did he noticed the note at the bottom of the box. The note was written in Javi’s handwriting and said, “for all those lonely nights baby, when you’re so wound up and don’t have a man that can be inside you. Enjoy.” Signed, Javier Peña.

Murphy was shocked at what he saw and couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He knew Javi loved to rile you up, and he had to hand it to his partner, he definitely got you going. It was the perfect gift to get even for all those irritating moments the three of you had. But when he looked up at you he immediately froze, his laugh dying out in his throat. Your eyes were red and puffy now as frustrated tears streamed down your face. Steve could tell that the jokes maybe went a little too far this time.

“Sweetheart, we’re-”

“Don’t, just don’t Steve,” you said, grabbing the box and throwing everything back inside, not wanting to look up at him. “I get it, it’s a joke. A really fucking mean joke, ya know. You all can have any woman that you want. And here I am, in Columbia, and I can’t even get sleazy drug lords to choose me when I’m undercover. Shit, I couldn’t even keep my ex-fiance faithful on this day. You guys will find this hilarious, last year I found my ex fucking my sister. Apparently he never wanted me, wanted her cause now they’re getting married and having a baby and I’m not welcome around my family any more, cause I guess I can’t keep anyone happy. So nice of you to give the other girls flowers, and tell them how great they are when they don’t even fucking do anything for you. Meanwhile I have five bullet wounds and several cracked ribs for covering your asses. By the way, you guys are getting a raise in pay and I’m getting a 5 dollar reduction in pay. Apparently the superiors feel that it’ll give you guys motivation or something. So yeah, you’re right, perfect joke. Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to me.” And with that you left, slamming the door.

This was a joke that Peña and Murphy started with you about six months ago when you were placed undercover to go and try to extract information of the whereabouts of Pablo Escobar. They placed you at a brothel, knowing that some of Pablo’s higher up men were going to come to choose women to give them sexual favors for the night. With the help of a few informants, they had dressed you up and gave you pointers on how women acted in these places in Colombia. Javi had made a joke at you that you were the highest paid prostitute on the street, but when it came time for Pablo’s men to take you, you were the only one left behind. You weren’t ugly, you actually were quite beautiful, but that night Javi and Murphy had a hay day with you, as you were the only one that was not chosen. To make matters worse, you had gone out with them that night and couldn’t even get a guy to buy you a drink at the bar, let alone talk with you. And now the joke, you thought, had gone too far. Humiliated and embarrassed, you went and gathered your things and left to go home for the day, not wanting to see anyone again.

After you stormed out, and Murphy knew you were gone, he walked over to where Javi was, facing the back wall. “You got her vibrating panties?” Steve said, shaking his head and laughing.

“At the time, I thought it was a good idea. But something got lost in translation I suppose,” he said, still not wanting to leave his hiding spot.

“Peña, let me give you some advice. If you like a girl, don’t get her vibrating panties and then give her a card that says ‘for all those lonely nights when you don’t have a man.’ It just makes you look like an even bigger dick than what you already are.”

“Yeah, I realize that now,” he said, still not coming out of his hiding spot.

“Did ya know any of that other shit she was talking about?” Steve said, pulling a cigarette out and lighting it. Javi shook his head no as he came out of where he was hiding.

“Kinda fucked up if you ask me. Fucking her own sister and then marrying her. Talk about a cold hearted son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, I never knew. Fuck Murph, what do I do?”

“You already know what you gotta do man. Or do I need to call her back in here so she can spell it out for you?”

“Fuck you,” Javi said, walking out the door to go find you. He felt like the biggest dick right now. The gift and note wasn’t a joke from him, and he hated to think that you felt like it was.

Javi eventually learned that you had decided to go home for the day, leaving your work here. “She’s taking a sick day,” is what Maria, the secretary in the front office, had told him. Javi had attempted to get some paperwork done, but he kept thinking about you and how hurt you sounded when talking with Murphy. He didn’t mean for it to come off as a joke, in fact Javi wanted you to have the panties for a good reason, he wanted you to wear them for him.

Javi had been the biggest pain in your ass from the start. He was always coming over to your desk, forcing you to work through his work, making you work in the field with him, etc. To you it felt like he was punishing you for being good at your job. But in reality, he secretly liked you and wanted to be with you. Javi didn’t know why he couldn’t communicate his feelings to you, why he always had to make fun of you or rile you up. “I’m taking a sick day,” Javi told Murphy as he walked towards the door.

Murphy, who was still at his desk, said “Connie said she’s at home now.” Connie was one of your best friends here in Colombia. Being in a foreign country was hard, and making friends was even harder, especially what you did for a job. Your friends back at home disagreed with your career choice of being sent to Colombia, so your entire support structure was no longer there. Connie was one of the nicest women you had met or seen in the longest time. She understood your career choice, and didn’t hold it against you when your plans would change.

Javi had stopped and bought a dozen flowers from a street vendor before he got to your house. When he knocked on the door he softly said, “querida, I’m so sorry. Please open up, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I-”

“Who the fuck said you made me cry Peña?” you said, opening up the door suddenly, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes, tears at your lash line.

“No one I, Jesus woman, c’mere,” he said, stepping inside and placing the flowers on the end table by the door when he saw your face. He then reached for you, pulled you tight into his chest, holding you as the dam opened up again and the tears fell. “I’m so sorry baby, so sorry. I didn’t mean how it came out, fuck-”

“What did I do for you to hate me?” you said, voice muffled in his chest.

“Nothin’ baby, I don’t hate you, I-” he said, rubbing his hand up and down your back, trying to soothe you. This was not going the way that he had hoped.

“I mean, I pull extra duty, and am one of the strongest hitters on the team. Fuck Javi, I even have brought in more leads than Murphy and yet you publicly humiliate me.” You said, as a sob broke free from your mouth. You didn’t know why you were opening up, allowing Javi to attempt to soothe you. You just didn’t have it in you to fight right now, too emotionally worked up to even care.

“No, no, baby. It ain’t like that, look at me,” Javi said, pulling you away from his chest and gently cupping your face with his hands. “Querida, I got them for you and for me, for you to think about me.”

Shaking your head you stepped back and said, “what? Peña, what the fuck are you talking about for you and me? I’m not-”

“Shit, this ain’t coming out the way I wanted it to,” Javi said, pacing back and forth in your living room. Javi was mumbling to himself, unsure of how to deal with the situation and correct it. Not knowing how to place it into words, his feelings, he thought that he could show you. He immediately reached for you and kissed you hard on the lips. Javi, once again, was hoping the kiss would show you that he cared, but all you read was he was being condescending once again. You immediately pulled back and found your strength and slapped Javi hard across his face.

“Javi, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? Just because I’m crying, trying to understand why the guy I have a crush on hates me, doesn’t give you the right to-”

“I like you,” he said, rubbing the sting site he felt across his cheek. Damn that woman could hit hard, he thought to himself. You continued to talk overtop of him, not realizing what he just said. You kept saying how much of an asshole he’s been to you and how much you hate men as you’ve always been taken advantage of. Javi shook his head at you, hearing words such as dickhead, asshole along with other words such as, pendejo and cabrón. You kept telling him off, not listening to anything that he had just told you.

With a sarcastic laugh, he said, “I can’t fucking believe you, you don’t listen baby.” He was now getting just as frustrated at you for not listening to him. She says I don’t listen, hell, she doesn’t listen.

All you heard was ‘I can’t fucking believe you’ and nothing else. Once again, you marched over to smack Javi hard across the face. But this time, he caught your hand mid-air saying, “I don’t think so cariño. You only get one free hit, and you already used it up for today.”

The sadness that you felt earlier had now turned into blinding anger and rage. You started fighting back. You were done with men treating you like assholes, for cheating on you with your sister, for not listening to you or even attempt at paying attention. You started hitting Javi’s chest, yelling at him and saying, “you’re an asshole,” over and over again. You were throwing a temper tantrum, frustrated about the last few days, and Javi was your outlet. However, Javi didn’t see your attitude nor behavior as enduring or even cute. Him, having about enough of you using him as a physical punching bag, decided to take matters into his own hands to calm you down. He grabbed your hand and threw it behind your back, slamming you to the ground while yelling, “Enough.”

You kept trying to kick him, to hurt him more. You weren’t part of this planet anymore, you just saw red at reliving every shitty moment for the last six years. Of taking the smacks to the face your boyfriend gave you when he was drunk and you questioned why he had red lipstick stains on his shirt and around his cock as you undressed him from a night out with his friends. What you didn’t know is that it was your sister’s lips that were around him, and not some other woman. It didn’t make those moments easier, but you always thought that maybe it was just a one night stand, not a five year long relationship behind your back.

You kept kicking Javi, yelling that you were done with people hurting you, clearly not seeing him anymore. To help calm you down, Javi maneuvered his body so he was sitting on your ass, with your arm behind your back. Your chest was laying flat on the floor, his chest then tight on your back as he snarled in your ear, “you’re gonna stop this shit, right now, stop trying to hit me.”

“Fuck you David-” you said, not realizing that you called him your ex.

“I’m not him baby. I never was, nor will I ever be him. So stop calling me David, my name isn’t fucking David.” Javi growled in your ear, leaning harder into you to get you to calm down.

You finally relaxed at hearing Javi speak to you, reminding yourself that he wasn’t your ex. As soon as you relaxed Javi released your arm, but stayed firm against you, hands on both sides of your head as he breathed hard and fast at the fight that you gave him. It was then that you remembered everything that Javi and you were, everything that you were alone.

Sometimes at night when you couldn’t sleep you’d go back into work and find Javi working alone at his desk. He’d always come over and ask you why you were showing up at work around midnight on a day where you just placed in 12 hours. Alone the two of you would always find moments where you could be soft with each other. He’d order you both greasy pizza to eat at night and he’d tease you of picking off all the pepperoni. Nights where you were scared to be home alone, he’d take you back to his house and you’d sleep in his bed when he slept on the couch. When you got shot several times, after you were discharged home, he’d stay with you in your apartment. He even slept next to you on your bed a few times.

He also bathed you when you got sick with a fever from the infection of the bullet wounds, and nursed you back to health for several weeks. If you were being honest, Javi was your best friend when the two of you were alone. But at work, he was the biggest dickhead. You were jealous when he started flirting with the new secretary that came in, Phillis, and hated when you saw him at the brothel down the street. Javi never attempted sex with you, and honestly, it upset you. You wanted him, but apparently he never wanted you. So at work you took out your frustration the only way you knew how, you became a pain in his ass like he was a pain in yours.

But when Javi didn’t move, continuing to breathe hard in and out, you knew that something had changed. You went to move your ass and immediately he hissed “don’t” as his hips stayed tight against yours, not moving nor letting you up. After a moment of submitting to him you heard him ask in a strained voice “are you calm enough for me to move or do we have to keep you like this for a little longer?”

You didn’t know why you felt like saying it out loud, but you didn’t want to play this game of not being honest with him anymore. “I’ve calmed down, but Javi, I’d like it if you stay like this for a little while, hell you can even push deeper into me if you want.” You gave Javi a little wiggle of your ass at his statement.

The air around the two of you changed, thickening with sexual tension. “Shit baby, ya can’t say that to me,'' he said, slightly leaning forward and pushing his crotch tighter to your ass. You felt him slightly rock back and forth, groaning at the feel of you beneath him.

You slightly arched your back, pushing up so he could kiss your neck. When you changed the position both of you moaned loud in unison, feeling his hips slowly grind harder into you. You never remembered feeling this good by just letting a man grind into you, but fuck, Javi was slowly making you feel feral.

“Javi, I don’t-” you said slowly.

“No,” He growled, not wanting you to tell him to stop. He couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t hold back. He wanted so desperately to be deep inside of your warm cunt that he was struggling right now to keep his composure. “Fuck hermosa, feel what you do to me.”

But you were, you felt how much Javi wanted you and you knew how much you wanted him. You laid there and let him slowly grind his hips into you again until something snapped inside.

“Javi, fuck me,” you said, pushing your ass harded back into him.

Javi immediately stilled his hips at your statement, looking down at you, trying to determine if what you were asking was what he thought. When he didn’t respond again, you said with a little more bite, “Javi, you gave me a vibrator for all those lonely nights when I don’t have a man’s dick inside of me. Please, I don’t want to use the vibrator tonight. For once on Valentine’s Day I want a man inside me that fucking cares. If you really care, please give me that.”

You felt Javi get off from you and walk away, towards the door, rustling around with something. You laid face down in the middle of your living room, tears welling up in your eyes at being rejected once again. You hated this fucking holiday, but when you let out a little sniffle you felt his hand cup your chin, turning you to the side. With the softest eyes possible he said, “come on now, no more crying. Now up you go,” as he helped you stand. Once you were standing he smiled down at you and then gave you a slow tender kiss on the lips. When he pulled back he held out the black lace panties in front of your face.

“Here, I bought these for you. Now, go and put them on, and let me see them on you. Then I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve, like a man that’s wanted to be with you from the moment he laid eyes on you. Fuck what you stupid ex did to you last year-”

“And every year before,” you said softly.

Javi’s eyes got impossibly dark, anger and lust mixing with them. He hated your ex, the man that broke you. If Javi had to spend the rest of his life showing you that you deserved more, then he would do it. Fuck his superiors, or anyone else that thought he and you shouldn’t be together.

“The fact that you say that makes me angry that any man would ever-”

“Forget it Javi, it’s-”

“No. Now pay attention sweetheart, cause I’m only gonna say it once. No man should ever make you feel like this, ever, you hear me? Now, go put them on baby, and let me see you in them. Then, I’m gonna take you to bed and show you how a man is supposed to treat the woman he cares about.”

“Oh, and how’s that Peña, what are you gonna do that makes me forget all the stupid shit other men have done?” You said, playfully nudging Javi and his cockiness that you have found you love.

Javi grabbed you by the hair and tilted your head back while whispering above you, “I’m gonna fuck you so good that you’re gonna forget every man before me, baby. Then I’m gonna show you how a real man treats the woman he’s crazy over. It’s just you and me, and I’ll remind you of that every night before we go to sleep. There’s no one’s pussy I’d rather be buried in than yours. I only want to be balls deep in you, and not anyone else.” Javi then slammed his lips onto yours and gave you a kiss like you deserved.

Maybe you had to have David be in your life and screw you over, because without him, you’d never have met Javier Peña. Javi was a real man that made good on his promises, of being the man that you needed. Before the night was over, and after you came down from your intense rough sex with him, you found yourself looking into his eyes and seeing the potential for a future once again. As Javi slowly rocked into you, making slow love at the end, he whispered, “you’re mine cariño, and I’m never letting you go.” And that was the thing that tipped you both over the edge, moaning each other’s names and kissing each other like you both had just found your future soulmate.

Javi did make good on his promises, he never let you go.

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iiconicxpersona · 1 year ago

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Don’t Leave Me

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: After an extremely traumatic experience during the Escobar case, reader debates between staying in Colombia with Javier or leaving him for good.

Warnings: smut (18+) mvrd3r, depression, angst, read at your own risk, minors DNI

A/N: Had to repost because original only posted half 😫 to be fair I was at target lmao

Life as the significant other of a DEA agent was no joke, especially for Javier Peña. You had heard the horror stories on the news, and you knew there was much more gruesome details Javier wasn’t telling you about. He sheltered you to the best of his abilities for your sake and for the sake of his own sanity. He liked coming home to some sort of normalcy, but he loved how even after the most life threatening days all it took was holding you in his arms and kissing your lips to make everything all right again. You were his sanctuary, his home.

However, after a year into your relationship with Javi, you finally got a small taste of what Pablo Escobar and the Colombian cartels were capable of.

Javier didn’t give you too many details, but he warned you that it might be safer for you to go back to America and stay with your family until the heat cooled down. Pablo had figured out Javier and Steve Murphy were hot on his tracks and the last thing Javi wanted was for you to get hurt. Nevertheless, you fought against the idea of leaving him—even if it was just temporary—until Javi finally gave in. “You got yourself a fighter, Javs.” Murphy would tell him.

“She doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.” Javier would respond.

He was right. You had absolutely no fucking idea of what you were getting yourself into, until one morning you woke up to the nonstop ringing of the doorbell to your and Javi’s shared apartment. You should’ve known something was up when you looked through the peephole and saw that nobody was there, but curiosity got the best of you.

When you opened the door, there was a package on the floor with no labels on it. You wanted to ignore it, and if Javier didn’t have to leave early for work that morning he would’ve gotten rid of it himself. You had a gut feeling not to open it, but your body reacted faster than your brain and before you knew it the package was sitting on the coffee table in front of you. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. Quiet enough that if the package was a bomb, you would hear it. No such sound was made. The Devil and Angel on your shoulders raged against each other on the idea of opening it until you finally started cutting the tape off.

The scream that left your lungs at the sight haunted the entire apartment complex for months. Inside the box were the lifeless head and hands of a woman with features similar to yours. The hands cradled each side of the head while wrapped securely in saran wrap to prevent the blood from dripping. It was pretty clear that this was a message for Javi and for you. They know who you are. They’re watching you.

Javier knew right then and there that you were no longer safe from the reality of this cruel world. His home had been tainted. His sanctuary had burned to the ground. This was all his fault. He shouldn’t have asked you out the night Steve’s wife Connie introduced you. He shouldn’t have called you back for a second and third date. He shouldn’t have made love to you. He shouldn’t have fallen in love with you, but he did.

He fell hard for you, and the worst part is you fell just as hard for him too, even when there were so many signs from his job alone telling you to leave him. This package was the biggest sign of them all.

As much as he loved you, Javier wouldn’t have blamed you one bit if you decided to break up with him. He expected it to happen sooner or later, but despite everything you still chose to stay. “Javier, I love you. We’re in this together no matter what.”

“I promise, cariño, I’m done when this is over. I love you. I want you to marry me. I want you to be the mother of my children. I want to start a new life with you.”

“I want that too, Javi, so much.”

—

Life only seemed to get harder ever since the package delivery scene. As if it wasn’t enough to try and protect himself and Steve on a daily basis, now you were added to the mix. Even though he knew during the day you were safe with Connie at work, on the inside he still worried himself to death over you. He needed to know where you were at every hour of the day and to know you were safe. Steve tried to convince Javi to think of you as one of the former informants he used to sleep with and toss to the back burner while on the job, but Javi couldn’t if he tried. He didn’t love them. He loves you.

That’s the problem; you love Javier. You don’t want to be without him. You and Javier belong together. So why are you still fighting the thought of leaving him? Why are you still looking for any excuse to pack your things and walk away from Colombia and from Javi forever? Why can’t you do it when he flat out tells you “if you want to leave then leave”?

Ever since the delivery, you felt your love for Javier and your sanity struggling to balance on a sewing thread. You couldn’t get the image of the lifeless body parts out of your head. The face of the poor woman haunted you in your sleep. It was as if you were watching like a fly on the wall as her life was being taken away just for a few of her remains to be on your doorstep. And for what? Why did it have to take harming an innocent woman to scare you?

Javier could feel you slipping away from him. Every time he tried to pull you back down to earth, it only ended in an argument. He didn’t like going to bed with your back facing him. He didn’t like ending every fight with giving you the opportunity to leave him for good. He didn’t like going to bed angry and waking up to you not talking to him. He didn’t like hearing you silently sob yourself back to sleep after your reoccurring nightmares, but he had no choice. You weren’t the same anymore. He hated his job for fucking up his own sanity, but he hated it even more for destroying the one good thing he was given in his life; you.

—

After a month of trying to overcome everything by yourself, you finally decided to seek professional help from one of the therapists the DEA provided. Connie recommended for you to see her therapist, Trinidad, after Javier came to Connie desperate for some advice.

Trinidad understood the confidentiality of the ongoing investigation, so she didn’t press you for details. You explained to her about your nightmares and your relationship with Javi. In the end she was only there to let you talk her ear off and prescribe you with anxiety and anti-depressant medication. If it wasn’t for the obvious reasons, you could’ve just called your mom or best friend and did all this from home for free.

By the time Javi came home from work that night, you were already in bed with your back facing his side. You weren’t asleep—God knows you haven’t had a decent sleep in a month—instead you just stared blankly at the wall in front of you. Feeling Javi’s body weight taking his place on his side of the bed, you waited anxiously for the sound of his faint snore to signal it was time for you to yet again sob yourself to sleep.

However, you felt the weight change and suddenly his body was pressed against your back. One of his hands caressed your hip as he began trailing gentle kisses from your shoulder, to your neck, all the way to the shell of your ear.

“Cariño, come back to me, por favor.” He whispered.

Oh how your body ached for his touch. It feels like forever since he last called you ‘cariño’. You didn’t realize how much you missed him. Even though your body was telling him different, your words were trying to push him away.

“Javi, please, don’t.” You groaned as your head fell backwards and your fingers entangled in his hair.

“Please mi vida. We haven’t made love in so long. I miss you.” His hand ran slowly under your sleepwear, at the same time pushing you gently backwards until your body was fully pressed against him.

You gasped at the feel of his bare body spooning you. The arm that was holding him up snaked under your neck and secured your upper body in place as his other hand slowly massaged your soaking wet clit. A desperate moan escaped your lips and you began grinding yourself on his hand.

“Fuck. I missed you so much, baby.” He groaned against your ear.

“I missed you too, Javi. So. Much.” Your legs began spreading wider until your top leg overlapped his own.

His hand fully engulfed your pussy and his fingers slowly worked their way inside you, massaging your walls as you tightened around him. The sound of your moans making him harder than a rock and you could feel how desperate he was to be inside you by how hard he was dry humping you from the back.

You turned your head to face him with your hand still gripping his hair and your hips grinding harder into his hand. “Kiss me.” You moaned.

He didn’t hold back. Javier kissed you so deeply that it took your breath away. Almost as if you were experiencing it for the first time. In fact, this felt almost similar to when he did make love to you for the first time. He made you feel safe. He made you feel beautiful. He worshipped your body like an absolute goddess, kissing every scar and every beauty mark he could find and devouring you like you were his only meal.

The only restraint you had on him were the clothes you had on and you knew he was getting desperate to tear them off, but he also wanted to take his time with you. He wanted to make you feel good. To release the fear and tension that held you captive from him for the past month. He was desperate just to have you back.

His hand gradually picked up the pace and you whined in pure bliss in his mouth. “Javi… baby… I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, baby. Cum for me.” Javier whispers in between kisses.

Your lips connected once more in a deep breathtaking kiss as you came hard on his hand. Beads of sweat now starting to form on your bodies.

You rode out your high on his hand and continued to kiss him at the same time, cherishing every moment. “I love you.” You moaned in between kisses.

“I love you too. More than anything.” His hand slipped out of your pants and you both adjusted yourselves to where he was now on top of you in a missionary position. “Querida, I don’t want to be without you, but I don’t want you to live in fear with me either. You’re so pure to me, so fragile. I’ll protect you no matter what. Just please, please don’t leave me like that again.”

Tears fell down your face as you stared up at him. Your heart swelled and broke in your chest at the same time. You didn’t realize it until now, but you scared him. The entire month you shut yourself away from him scared him more than any dangerous curveball his job threw at him. He could be sitting face to face with Escobar himself and that didn’t scare him as much as the thought of knowing his last memory of you would be you scared, tired, sad and angry with him. No last kiss, no last ‘see you later my love’, no last lunch time call, no nothing. And at that moment, you hated yourself for being so selfish the past month. “I’m so sorry, Javi. I didn’t realize—“

He shushed you and gently wiped away your tears. “No llores, mi vida. You have nothing to be sorry about. Just promise me you’ll try to talk to me next time. That’s all I ask.”

You immediately nodded and peppered his lips with kisses. “I will. I’m so sorry baby. I love you so much.” You said in between.

“I love you too.” He returned each kiss and embraced your body closer to him.

Your hands gripped at his bare back as your legs wrapped around his waist. “Make love to me, Javi.” You whispered.

Without hesitation he pulled you up high enough to remove your top, exposing your breasts and you helped him remove your shorts and panties until you were just as bare as he was.

Still sitting upright on his knees, he hugged you body close to him as you adjusted yourself on his lap until his tip was pushing inside you. For a brief moment, you and Javi stared lovingly into each others eyes, saying everything you couldn’t spit out into words right now and kissed each other passionately.

Gasping as you sunk down on him, you had to take a moment to adjust to his size. A month felt like an eternity without him inside you. He groaned as your walls clenched around him and he gently pushed himself further inside you, guiding your hips with his hands as he felt you slowly grind down on him and your body relaxing.

“There you go, baby. Relax for me.” He smiled in the kiss.

You broke the kiss to throw your head back from the pleasure, but one of his hands caught the back of your head and guided you back down to him. “No baby, keep your eyes on me.” He begged and you nodded.

Javi wanted to cherish every moment when he would make love to you. He loved the way your body moved perfectly with his, how the sweat covered you from head to toe, the way your eyes desperately tried to stay open to look at him even when he was balls deep inside you. But what he loved most of all was the sounds you made. The praises that spilled from your beautiful lips, letting him know exactly how good he was making you feel. He loved hearing you moan, especially his name. He didn’t care if anyone else in the complex heard them or not, but if they did then he wanted them to know it was him and only him that could make you feel this good. Just as you wanted everyone to know you belong to Javier Peña and Javier Peña belongs to you.

He pushed you backwards until you were back in the missionary position and kissed you once more. His arms hooked your legs over them and he spread you open wider. Biting at your jawline and chin. His thrusts slammed into you harder and deeper, making you and him moan each other’s names louder. Your nails clawed at his back and he hissed.

It must have occurred to both of you subconsciously that he wasn’t wearing protection and you haven’t taken your birth control pills in the past week, but that didn’t slow either of you down.

“I want you to have my babies.” He groaned against your lips and continued thrusting deep into you.

“Then give them to me, Javi.” You moaned.

Javier lost all self restraint at that moment. He gripped tighter at your legs as his thrusts became faster and deeper, making you cry out for him even louder.

“Ahh, Javi… oh god! So! Fucking! Good!”

“You’re so fucking perfect cariño. All mine.”

You could feel that both of you are so close. His thrusts became sloppy and desperate as you fell apart underneath him.

“Are you ready, my love?” He kissed you once more and tried to keep eye contact with you.

“Give me your babies, Javi.”

And just like that, you both came undone hard at the same time and quivered in each others embrace.

Javi stayed on top of you and kept himself buried deep inside you as if he was afraid of spilling out. You smiled up at him and kissed him passionately once more.

“There’s that beautiful smile I missed so much.”

You giggled. “I’m never leaving you again.”

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redislazy · 7 days ago

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Deadly Attachments, Chapter 05

<< Chapter 04　|　Chapter 06 >>

[EVENTUAL SMUT] - Minors DNI > ao3 <

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x female!Reader

Word Count: 7,318

Summary: As a skilled mercenary, you've navigated countless high-stakes missions—until one job puts you in the crosshairs of Task Force 141 and the elusive "Ghost." Now forced into an uneasy alliance, you’re drawn into a dangerous game of shifting loyalties and hidden motives. But as the stakes climb higher, one question lingers: how close can you get to the man who was meant to be a shadow in your path?

Content Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Military Action & Romance, Mercenaries, Soldiers, Non-Canon Antagonists, Eventual Smut, Military Inaccuracies, Slow Burn, Will add smut-specific tags later as the story goes

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"Do you know who the leader of Aegis is?” Price asks, his voice low and direct.

You're seated with Task Force 141 in the main room of your makeshift base, the air thick with the smell of strong coffee and tactical gear. Maps and intel reports are strewn across the table, the faint rustling of papers filling the silence. Price leans forward, a serious glint in his eyes as he waits for your response.

You shake your head, feeling a pang of frustration resurface. “No one really does. The leader’s kept their identity hidden, even from most of their own people. Only a few high-ranking lackeys know anything, and they’re the ones who dish out orders to the mercs under them. It’s… compartmentalized.”

Price exhales sharply, leaning back in his chair as he considers this. “Figures. Bastard’s running a whole operation from the shadows.”

Soap’s brows knit together as he glances around at the team. “So what? We take down a few agents, and they just keep popping up like cockroaches. We’d be at this forever.”

Gaz nods in agreement. “The only way to cut them off for good is to go after the one running the show. Take out the leader, and Aegis would crumble from the top down.”

A heavy silence falls over the room as the reality of it sets in. Ghost’s eyes flicker toward you, his gaze unreadable. “You’re saying we need to hit the head of the snake,” he says, tone even but grim. “Find whoever’s pullin’ the strings and make sure they stop for good.”

You swallow, feeling the weight of their words. They make it sound simple, but the truth gnaws at you. Aegis’s leader is more than just a face or a name—they’re a shadow, always out of reach. Tracking them down would be like chasing smoke through the dark, nearly impossible. But it’s what you’ll have to do if you want the target on your back to disappear, if you ever want a chance at being a free, independent mercenary again.

You sigh quietly, thinking over the task ahead. ��It won’t be easy. They’ve built their whole operation on staying hidden, letting others take the heat and make the moves.”

Price’s gaze softens, a rare moment of understanding. “We’re not saying it’ll be easy. But you’ve got an advantage the rest of us don’t—you’ve been inside their system, seen how they work. You might be our best chance at getting close enough to flush ‘em out.”

You nod slowly, feeling both the pressure and the strange, growing sense of resolve. This mission was more than personal survival now; it was a matter of closing a chapter that’d haunted you, taking down the very organization that once counted you as their own. It would be hard, maybe harder than anything you’d done—but the path ahead is clearer, and for the first time in a long while, you have a sense of purpose.

“So,” Price says, a determined look passing over him as he glances around at the team, “we go all in. Aegis’s leader is our endgame. Let’s find this threat hiding in the shadows.”

Gaz clears his throat, breaking the determined silence that’s settled over everyone. He leans forward, eyebrows knit together in a frown. “Alright, but where do we even begin with this?” He looks to Price, then over to you. “If she worked with Aegis for ten years and still doesn’t know who’s running the show… it’s like we’re chasing a ghost.”

Price crosses his arms, his gaze fixed on the wall for a moment as he thinks. “You’re right—it won’t be easy. But every organization, no matter how secretive, has a trail. It’s just a matter of finding the cracks, the weak spots in their setup.” He glances over to you, his expression firm but steady. “And you might know where to start looking.”

You shift uncomfortably, feeling the weight of their eyes on you. “They’ve always kept the hierarchy vague, even for those working in it for years. Only the most trusted agents deal directly with whoever’s at the top. Orders trickle down through a few of those loyal yes men, but they don’t leave much of a trail.”

Ghost’s voice cuts through, calm but edged with skepticism. “So we’re sifting through shadows. Fine. But if we know who their high-ranking lackeys are, maybe we can press them hard enough to get to the top.”

“Problem is,” you reply, feeling the familiar frustration at Aegis’s elusive nature, “even their lieutenants aren’t easy to track down. They’re careful, and most of them use proxies or intermediaries. Aegis is designed to protect the leader’s anonymity at all costs.”

Price nods, absorbing the information. “Then we take it one layer at a time. Start with any connections we can find. Places Aegis is active, recurring contacts, anything that can get us closer."

Gaz sighs, running a hand over his face. “Even with that, it could take months, years even, to get anything solid. And if they know she’s working with us against them, they’ll close ranks tighter than ever.”

You clench your jaw, knowing he’s right. Aegis’s leader wasn’t just running an organization—they’d crafted a fortress of secrecy, one that you never even questioned back when you were part of it. The odds feel almost impossible. Yet, a part of you feels a strange, stubborn determination settling in.

“If we want to dismantle Aegis for good,” you say slowly, meeting each of their eyes, “we’ll have to be as relentless as they are. I know it’s hard to track them down, and I know it seems hopeless. But if there’s one thing I learned in all those years, it’s that they get comfortable in their own secrecy. And that… that’s where we’ll find them. Somewhere they think we’ll never look.”

Soap grins slightly, trying to lighten the mood. “So what you’re saying is, we go on the world’s hardest game of hide and seek?”

Ghost rolls his eyes, but there’s a spark of agreement there. “Something like that,” he mutters. Then, to you, he adds, “Just don’t think you’re going at this alone.”

You nod, taking a steadying breath. For the first time, you have allies—ones willing to dig as deep as it takes to uncover Aegis’s secrets. You’d spent a year running from them, dreading the target on your back. Now, with Task Force 141, it’s different. Now, you’re not just trying to escape—you’re going to hunt them down, piece by piece, until there’s nowhere left for their leader to hide.

Captain Price looks around at each of you, a steady resolve in his gaze. “We may be staring at a pile of scrambled intel right now, but HQ’s got the resources and expertise to make sense of that damned hard drive. Once they break through these files, we’ll have a clearer picture of what Aegis is planning and where they’re vulnerable. This hard drive’s our way in, so we sit tight, let them do their part, and be ready to move the second we have actionable intel. We’ve got the edge now, so let’s use it.”

A quiet determination settles over the team, and you feel a renewed sense of purpose, knowing the next step is coming into focus.

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A week after the intense mission in Istanbul, everyone gathers in the briefing room, pouring over the latest intel reports the team itself has gathered while waiting for HQ's findings. The progress is disappointing—Aegis has gone quiet. Their network seems to have retracted, pulling resources and high-ranking members out of sight. It’s almost as if their encounter with Task Force 141 spooked them into hunkering down.

Price studies the map in front of him, a frown etched deeply into his face. “Looks like Aegis is trying to play it safe. They’ve pulled back any valuable assets. Istanbul’s gone cold.”

Soap leans back in his chair, letting out a low whistle. “Almost like they’re on to us, yeah? As if they know we’re here sniffin’ around.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Ghost says, crossing his arms. “They’ve always been good at keeping just out of reach.”

Price nods slowly, looking at each of you in turn. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. We’ve scoured every lead we had in Istanbul, but if Aegis is keeping low, we’re just spinning our wheels here.”

“So we pull out?” Gaz asks, sounding a little reluctant.

Price’s jaw tightens before he lets out a resigned sigh. “Aye. We regroup back at the main HQ, review the intel, and see what we can dig up once we’re back on our own turf. If Aegis resurfaces, we’ll be ready.”

You feel a mix of relief and frustration. On one hand, the thought of leaving Istanbul without a clear victory is disheartening; on the other, the relentless days and nights have worn you thin. You catch Ghost watching you from the corner of his eye, and you know he hasn’t forgotten your exhausted misstep on the last mission. Maybe pulling back isn’t the worst idea.

Price stands, dismissing the team. “Pack it up. We're flying in two hours.”

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Back on British soil, the familiar surroundings of the main base bring a strange sense of comfort. The hallways are quieter than the bustling streets of Istanbul, and the air feels less charged with tension. Still, the unresolved mystery of Aegis hangs over you all like a dark cloud.

You spend most of your first day back debriefing and sifting through what intel you gathered in Istanbul. While the team disperses to their respective quarters that evening, Price calls you into a conference room where Ghost is already waiting.

“We’re going to regroup, assess what we’ve got,” Price begins, looking between the two of you. “But while we’re back here, I want you both digging into anything that could link to Aegis. Old contacts, forgotten leads, even whispers you’ve heard from your past. We can’t let them slip through our fingers just because they’ve gone quiet.”

Ghost nods, his gaze focused and unreadable as ever. You feel his presence beside you, a constant reminder of the grudging partnership you’re both locked into. He’s quiet as Price outlines the plan, but you can sense the intensity beneath his stoic exterior.

When Price finally dismisses you, Ghost falls into step beside you in the hallway.

“You know what this means,” he says, his voice low and measured.

You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“No more running on empty.” His tone is pointed, and you feel the weight of his earlier frustration still lingering in his words. “If we’re going after Aegis, I need you sharp, not half-dead from a lack of sleep.”

You open your mouth to argue, but his stare holds steady, and for once, you’re out of comebacks. Maybe he’s right. Istanbul was close, too close. If you’re going to face down Aegis, you need to be ready, fully prepared.

With a resigned sigh, you nod. “Fine. I’ll be ready.”

Ghost’s eyes linger on you for a beat longer than necessary, as if assessing whether you’re being sincere. He gives a curt nod, satisfied. “Good. Then let’s get to work.”

The hunt isn’t over yet—far from it. But with Task Force 141 at your side, and your resolve steeled, you feel a strange flicker of confidence. Aegis can try to hide, but they can’t run forever.

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When you’re shown to your quarters, a small, amused smile tugs at your lips. It’s the same room you were kept in last year, back when Kozlov’s case threw you headfirst into the chaos of the SAS and Task Force 141. Back then, this room had been a cage, a place where they held you in custody as both a suspect and a temporary asset, neither trusting you nor willing to let you walk away.

But now, stepping inside, the feeling is… different. It’s strange how much can change in a year. You’re still an outsider, technically speaking—still a mercenary with your own agenda and your own grudges to bear. But here, under the weight of the memories of that tense alliance with the SAS, you feel the difference. You’re no longer here out of necessity or suspicion. You’re here because you’re needed, a part of something that, in its own way, feels like it might actually have your back.

You drop your bag on the bed and scan the room, a flood of memories filling the empty space. The walls feel less confining now, less like they’re pressing in to remind you of every questionable choice that brought you here. There’s a strange warmth in knowing you’re trusted enough to roam freely this time, not a captive but an ally.

Leaning against the doorframe, you let out a quiet laugh. If someone had told you a year ago that you’d be willingly working with Task Force 141 again—especially Ghost, of all people—you’d have called them insane. But here you are, and even though the threat of Aegis looms just as dark and dangerous as before, you feel a sense of resolve settling in your bones. For the first time, the title “ally” doesn’t feel like a chain; it feels like a choice.

With that, you toss yourself onto the bed, letting yourself sink into the familiarity of it, not as an outsider or a prisoner but as someone who has fought with them, earned her place beside them—even if, at times, it feels like you’ve only just managed to keep up.

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Days slip by in a steady rhythm, quiet and uneventful—a rare stretch of calm that you hadn’t anticipated but can’t help appreciating. There’s no immediate mission, no dire orders waiting in the wings. You almost don’t know what to do with yourself without the constant pressure of survival and strategy weighing on your shoulders.

It’s a welcome change, really. For once, you have time to simply exist in one place without fear of attack or the ever-present anxiety that Aegis might be around the corner. Here, in the heart of the SAS base, you know they won’t get to you. Not with the layers of security, the trained eyes watching every corner, and the presence of Task Force 141 keeping things in check. You hadn’t realized just how exhausting it was to live with that constant threat on your back—how much it had worn you down until now, when you could finally breathe a little easier.

And the days of rest are doing their work. The wound on your shoulder, a stinging reminder of that reckless call during the last mission, is healing steadily. At first, the pain had flared up with every movement, a sharp reminder of the risk you’d taken for Ghost. Now, though, the ache is dulling, settling into a faint throb that only bothers you when you forget it’s there. You’ve been able to patch it up, tend to it properly, and let your body rest—something you haven’t allowed yourself in far too long.

In a way, it’s ironic that the safest you’ve felt in years is here, surrounded by soldiers who were once ready to interrogate you, in a base that was once meant to hold you captive. Yet, with each day that passes, you feel yourself easing into this strange routine, letting down your guard little by little. The thought of Aegis creeping closer doesn’t linger as it once did; for now, you know you’re out of their reach. As long as you’re here, protected and hidden within these walls, they can’t touch you.

Every so often, you catch yourself almost… enjoying it, this sense of quiet security. It’s unfamiliar, this feeling of not having to look over your shoulder or map out an escape plan. For once, you can simply heal, both in body and mind, without the shadow of Aegis looming close. And as strange as it feels, you allow yourself to embrace it, even if it’s only for a little while.

You’re making your way through the base, aimlessly wandering to pass the time, when the low thud of weights and the soft hum of grunts from the training area catches your attention. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you follow the sounds, your steps quieter as you approach.

And there, across the room, is Ghost—his focus entirely on the barbell in front of him as he lifts it with practiced strength. He’s shirtless, a rarity you’ve never quite had the opportunity to witness, and for a second, you’re almost stunned into place. The soft sheen of sweat glistens on his skin, tracing the defined lines of his muscles as he moves, each lift accentuating the raw strength in his arms, chest, and shoulders. He’s a fortress of a man, each muscle honed and cut, but it’s not just the sheer size of him—it’s the quiet, unwavering power in the way he works, every motion controlled, almost methodical.

Your gaze trails from his shoulders down to the faint scars that mar his skin, stories etched into his body that you know only hint at what he’s seen. His biceps flex with each lift, veins standing out against his forearms, and you can’t help but let your eyes linger. There’s a pull to him, this silent allure that makes it hard to look away. You’re drawn in by the way he moves, powerful yet careful, as though he’s attuned to every shift in his muscles, every beat of his own strength.

And the mask—he’s still wearing it, a reminder that even here, stripped of nearly everything else, he still keeps part of himself hidden. There’s something strangely endearing about it, almost funny in a way, that he’s still clinging to this one piece of armor. But it adds to the enigma of him, this contrast of being both revealed and guarded, and the sight makes your stomach flutter in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

Your eyes wander over the expanse of his shoulders, tracing the lines of his tattoos that weave across his skin. They’re intricate, dark swirls of ink that curl over his biceps and up along his forearms, striking against his skin in a way that only adds to his mystique. You can’t help but feel a sense of awe at how the designs accentuate the muscle beneath, each tattoo seeming to carry its own story—a past he never talks about but is forever etched into him.

The ink follows the contours of his arms, slipping beneath the mask of sweat and shadow as he moves, and you realize how each mark, each line, only amplifies that unapproachable air he carries. The tattoos make him look even more dangerous, more untamed, yet there’s an undeniable allure to them, a kind of dark art that keeps you captivated. You’re struck by how fitting they seem on him, how seamlessly they blend with the person he is—enigmatic, guarded, and quietly powerful.

As he lowers the barbell and finally catches sight of you, you feel yourself snap back to reality, heat rising in your cheeks when you realize just how openly you were staring. He tilts his head slightly, and you catch the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes, half hidden behind the shadows of his mask.

“Somethin’ interestin’?” he asks, his tone low but edged with a challenge.

Your heart skips a beat, but you somehow manage to keep your cool, shrugging as casually as you can. “Just admiring the…artwork,” you reply, unable to stop the hint of a grin from tugging at your lips.

He huffs softly, grabbing a towel and running it over his arms, brushing over those very tattoos you were just admiring. “Didn’t peg you for a fan,” he mutters, but there’s a spark in his eyes, as if he finds it amusing that you’re drawn in by something so personal to him.

You feel a flicker of nerves as you meet his gaze, aware of the way he’s watching you now, the barest suggestion of a smirk pulling at his lips. It’s like he knows exactly the effect he’s having on you, and there’s something undeniably thrilling about it.

Caught off guard by your own thoughts, you can’t help but let out a soft chuckle under your breath at the absurdity of it. Here you are, shamelessly ogling the one person who’s probably lectured you the hardest about staying sharp. And yet, there’s something about seeing him like this, so intensely alive and real, that makes it hard to think about anything else.

You raise an eyebrow, recovering just enough to give a smirk. “Didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Always do,” he replies, a faint challenge in his eyes. He grabs a towel, running it over his arms and chest before casually throwing it around his shoulders. His gaze stays on you, unreadable, and you feel a pang of nerves twist in your stomach.

“Well, I’d hate to disturb your… intense routine,” you manage, trying for a light tone even as your pulse quickens.

He only grunts, but there’s a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth that suggests a smile. “Could use a spotter next time,” he says, deadpan, though his eyes hold a hint of mischief.

It’s a simple moment, laced with more tension than you’d expected, but there’s something unmistakable in the way he looks at you—something that leaves your heart thudding a bit faster as you return his gaze.

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Later in the day, you and Ghost are in the operations room, pouring over files and databases, the air thick with tension. Hours have passed, and the list of potential Aegis operatives and higher-ups sprawls across the screen. You’re deep in focus, building a list of names when Ghost leans over your shoulder, his usual presence looming a little closer than necessary.

“Gonna check the background on each name?” he remarks, voice laced with skepticism. “Doesn’t do us much good if they’re not active in the field anymore.”

You close your eyes for a moment, suppressing the urge to sigh. “Yes, Ghost, I know what I’m doing. This is just a preliminary list. I’ll get to backgrounds in a second.”

“Preliminary doesn’t mean sloppy,” he mutters, and you swear he’s leaning even closer. “Miss one detail, and we’re back at square one. We can’t afford any mistakes.”

You turn to glare at him, trying to ignore how close he is. “I’m not being sloppy. I’m gathering leads. You could always give me five minutes to breathe without hovering.”

He raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms with that infuriatingly stoic expression. “Not hovering. Just making sure we don’t waste time on mistakes. Aegis doesn’t let anything slip, so neither should we.”

“Oh, I get it.” You sit back, crossing your arms with a smirk. “You’re just this nitpicky with everyone, yeah?”

Ghost’s gaze narrows. “If you’re looking for me to tell you ‘good job’ for half-finished work, you’re gonna be disappointed.”

You roll your eyes, leaning in with a playful, challenging grin. “You know, you’re awfully invested in how I do my job. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were just trying to spend more time with me.”

For a second, he looks taken aback—just for a split second before he schools his expression. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself to focus, go right ahead.” He steps back, but his eyes are still fixed on you with that intense, unyielding look. “This isn’t about me, it’s about doing it right.”

You let out a small laugh, tilting your head at him. “Uh-huh. So you’re hovering because you don’t want to spend time with me. Got it. This is about quality control, not about you caring so much about what I’m doing that you can’t stay away. Makes sense.”

He doesn’t reply at first, just lets out a low, exasperated sigh, but you catch the hint of a smirk tugging at the edge of his mask. “Believe what you want, but if you screw this up, I’m not pulling you out of the mess.”

“Because you’d just hate to see me fail, wouldn’t you?” you tease, leaning back in your chair with a challenging grin.

“Failing’s not your issue,” he replies, his tone smooth. “Getting distracted is.”

“Oh, really?” You mirror his expression with a raised brow. “Last time I checked, you’re the one causing the distraction.”

Ghost huffs, crossing his arms, and his gaze is unwavering. “If you spent as much time working as you do trying to rile me up, you might actually get something done.”

“Maybe I just work best under pressure,” you reply, shrugging with mock innocence.

“Then consider this a performance review.” He pauses, his voice softer but still with an edge. “For the record, I’ll be watching.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes but feeling the lingering warmth of his gaze. For all the back-and-forth, the tension between you doesn’t feel quite as sharp. It’s there, but lighter, laced with something almost fun, a reminder that even amidst the mission, you’re not just rivals but two people with a shared drive.

Just as the tension between you and Ghost reaches a lull, Soap bursts into the room, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Oi, lovebirds, wrap it up!” he announces, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “We’re headin’ out tonight. Pub in town. Price gave the go-ahead, so consider it an order to blow off some steam.”

You blink in surprise, barely processing Soap’s words before he adds, “Come on, we’re all going—no excuses.”

“Pub night, huh?” Ghost’s voice has a rare note of interest, and he actually seems…enthusiastic? His gaze flickers to you, the edge in his expression softening. “Been a while since we had a proper night out.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to picture him in a more casual setting. “Didn’t peg you for someone who’d enjoy a pub crawl, Ghost.”

He shrugs, crossing his arms. “I don’t mind a pint every now and then. Especially after dealing with you.”

A smirk tugs at your lips. “Well, the feeling’s mutual,” you retort, but there’s a warmth to it. Maybe it’s the idea of seeing a different side of him outside the usual grind.

Soap grins, nodding approvingly. “That’s what I like to hear. Now go on—get yourselves outta those uniforms and into something halfway decent. We’re out the door in an hour.”

As he leaves, you catch a flicker of amusement in Ghost’s eyes. “Guess we better not keep them waiting,” he says, his tone almost teasing.

You tilt your head, still a bit surprised by his openness to the idea. “Guess I’ll have to see what ‘relaxed Ghost’ looks like.”

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound. “Don’t get your hopes up. But maybe you’ll see me a bit more…human.”

It’s a surprising statement from him, one that lingers as he gives you a nod and heads off to get ready, leaving you with a sense of anticipation you hadn’t expected.

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The pub is warm and bustling, a far cry from the quiet and regimented SAS base. The dim lights, hum of chatter, and scent of wood polish mixed with spilled beer create an atmosphere of easygoing revelry. You’re seated with the team at a table near the corner, where Ghost and Price lean back in their seats, both relaxed yet observant. You glance at Ghost, surprised by how much more at ease he seems here. There’s still an edge to him, but he doesn’t look like he’s on guard in the same way.

Soap, on the other hand, has made it his mission to kick off the evening with as many pints as he can get his hands on. He slams his drink down on the table, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Right, here’s a thought for you lot,” he says, his Scottish accent thickening with each drink. “If a merc like you could get Ghost to crack a smile, that’d be somethin’ of a miracle.”

Gaz raises an eyebrow, grinning. “I’d say we’ve got better odds of winning the lottery.”

You smirk, nudging Soap’s shoulder. “Please, I think I’ve done that already. He’s just hiding it under that mask of his.”

Ghost narrows his eyes, though there’s a hint of intrigue. “Careful what you wish for. Smiling from me might send you running.”

Soap grins mischievously, leaning in as if he’s about to share a grand secret. “You know, mate, I reckon you’d look downright charming if you let loose a little. Flash those pearly whites, give the ladies a thrill.”

Ghost shakes his head, deadpan. “The day I take advice on charm from you, Johnny, is the day hell freezes over.”

Price chuckles, raising his glass. “Don’t think there’s anyone here who’d survive if Ghost suddenly turned on the charm.”

Soap raises his glass in agreement, a wicked glint in his eye as he points it at you. “Oi, what about our resident mercenary? Bet you’ve got a right bloody wild side we haven’t seen yet, eh? All that time sneakin’ around with Aegis—you must have some stories.”

You roll your eyes, pretending to think. “Wouldn’t you like to know?"

Gaz smirks, chiming in. “What, afraid to tell us? Must be some top-secret stuff. C’mon, give us a little taste.”

You shrug with a mischievous smile. “Only if Ghost spills his secrets first.”

All eyes turn to Ghost, who gives the barest shake of his head, clearly unimpressed. “Secrets? You lot wouldn’t last a minute with half of ‘em.”

Soap snorts. “Oh, big man’s too mysterious for us, is he?”

Ghost glances over, voice low but steady. “If you’re keen to learn, there’s plenty I could teach. But somehow I don’t think you’ve got the spine for it, Johnny.”

The table erupts into laughter, and Soap throws his hands up in mock surrender. “Easy, Ghost! I’ll pass on the torture sessions, thanks.”

Grinning, you look over at Ghost, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know, Ghost. You think he could handle it?”

Ghost meets your gaze with that intense stare, and there’s the faintest flicker of mirth behind it. “Not a chance.”

Price chuckles, taking a sip of his drink. “Here’s what I’m curious about,” he says, looking at you. “You keep trading barbs with Ghost like it’s second nature. Takes a special kind of person to keep up with him.”

You tilt your head, a playful glint in your eye. “What can I say? I like a challenge.”

Soap cackles, slapping the table. “Oh-ho! Listen to that, Ghost. She’s got your number.”

“Is that right?” Ghost replies, his tone dry.

You lean in, unphased. “You can try and intimidate me all you want, but I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Ghost looks at you, one corner of his mouth tugging up in the faintest hint of a smirk. “For now.”

Gaz laughs, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “See, I knew it! We’ve got ourselves a real daredevil here.”

“Right,” Soap says, raising his glass high. “Here’s to this mad lot—ain’t a soul here with sense, and thank God for it.”

Everyone raises their glasses, and even Ghost gives a small nod of approval as he lifts his drink. You clink glasses, the laughter and ribbing reminding you that, somehow, you’ve found a place among this group of misfits.

As the night goes on, the drinks flow and the banter gets bolder. At one point, you lean back with a mischievous glint in your eye, glancing over at Ghost. “Alright, I’ve got a question for you. Be honest—is Ghost really your name? Or is it just to keep everyone guessing?”

There’s a pause as the whole table goes quiet. Soap nearly chokes on his drink, barely containing his laughter as he looks between you and Ghost. “Oh, aye, that’s a good one!” he says, slapping the table. “Imagine his ma callin’ him Ghost. ‘Time for supper, Ghostie boy!’”

Gaz bites back a grin, chiming in. “That's sounds a little bit too accurate, no?"

Price chuckles but keeps his face straight. “You’re barking up the wrong tree there,” he says in a low, amused tone, glancing knowingly at Ghost.

Ghost just stares back at you, his expression as closed-off as ever, though you could swear you see the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “You’re asking all the wrong questions,” he replies coolly. “Keep dreaming, though. Might even let you think you’re getting close.”

You roll your eyes, leaning back in your seat with a half-smile. “Fine, keep your mystery,” you say, as if you’re letting him win the round. “But one day, I’ll get it out of you.”

The table erupts in laughter, and Soap shakes his head, giving you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Good luck, lass. Took me years to even learn his favorite color.”

You laugh along with the others, but as the night settles, it hits you: they know things about Ghost that you’re nowhere close to finding out. If you want to be someone he trusts, someone he’d share even the smallest parts of himself with, it’s going to be a long journey.

But, sitting here with the team, sharing laughs and drinks, you think maybe, just maybe, that’s a road you’re willing to travel.

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The walk back to base is quiet, the night air crisp and cool after the warmth of the pub. The team trails off one by one to their respective quarters, with Ghost hanging back to make sure you make it to yours. You’re a bit buzzed, not quite unsteady, but everything’s a touch softer at the edges, and you can’t help but notice how large his presence feels next to you as he walks silently, hands in his pockets.

When you finally stop at your door, you fumble a little with your keycard, squinting as you try to slide it into the card reader. You can feel Ghost watching, arms crossed, probably waiting for you to admit defeat and hand him the keycard, but you’re determined to manage it on your own.

Of course, in your tipsy state, your balance betrays you. You stumble, and before you even realize it, Ghost’s hands are on your shoulders, steadying you as you fall back against him. His touch is firm and unyielding, but there’s something… soft in the way he keeps you close, ensuring you don’t lose your footing completely. You blink, surprised by the solidness of him, and he doesn’t step away immediately. His expression is unreadable, eyes shadowed beneath his mask, but his hands don’t move from your shoulders.

Without thinking, you tilt your head back, squinting up at him. “Oh, look at you, all grumpy as usual.”

“Grumpy, huh?” he replies, one brow arched beneath the mask, his tone teasing but laced with something else.

“Yeah, always brooding, always scowling. What’s your deal?” You poke lightly at his mask, as if you were trying to pry something out of him. “You’re always hiding something, aren’t you?”

His hand moves to your face, cupping your cheek gently, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. His gaze drops to your eyes, studying you more intently now, like he’s taking in how badly you’re buzzed, how off-kilter your thoughts are. His fingers linger there for a moment longer than you expect, his touch gentle yet possessive. For a heartbeat, it feels like the world has shrunk to just the two of you, his presence overwhelming and solid, his mask hiding everything but the emotion in his eyes. It’s an unspoken understanding, but it also feels like something more.

You don’t pull away. Instead, your eyes stay fixed on his, and the alcohol loosens your tongue even further. “Why do you always look so grumpy?” you murmur, half-joking. “You really think you’re that scary, huh?”

He chuckles, low and rough, breaking the tension. “Maybe it’s just how I look,” he answers, but there’s an amused gleam in his eyes now, something different from earlier.

You shake your head, not letting him off the hook so easily. “No, you look like you’re hiding something. But you don’t need to, you know?”

There’s another long pause between you, his thumb still brushing against your cheek, and the closeness has your breath catching in your chest. You can’t quite place what it is, but something shifts in the air, something that makes your heart race faster.

Leaning in just a little, you murmur, “You know… you’re actually really handsome, Ghost.”

His eyes widen just the slightest bit, the expression behind his mask shifting into something unreadable, but it doesn’t stop him from holding you there, his hand still cupping your face. “Is that so?” he murmurs, voice deeper now, amused and almost… pleased?

“Yeah, you’ve got that whole mysterious, dark vibe going for you,” you say, your gaze drifting down to his chest as you sway slightly on your feet. “Don’t let it go to your head, though,” you add with a half-smile, trying to lighten the moment, “but it’s true.”

There aren’t many moments you’ve seen Ghost without his mask—just enough for you to count with your fingers. Mostly, it’s been during meals, those rare occasions when he’s forced to shed the barrier between him and the world. You can’t help but notice each time he does; how could you not?

The first time you saw him without the mask, you felt a jolt of surprise. His face was striking in ways that you hadn’t expected—strong, sharp features that seemed carved from stone. His jawline was all hard angles, his eyes intense and deeper than they seemed when half-shaded by the mask. But what drew your gaze more than anything was the scar on his left cheek, a thin, pale line running down just shy of his jaw. It looked like a relic from some old battle, faded but unmissable, giving his face a harsher, almost haunted edge.

And yet, that scar softened something too. It hinted at a history, at moments he’s endured that you could only guess at. You’ve never asked him about it—he’d probably shut down if you tried—but each time you’ve seen his face, you’ve memorized it just a little more. His gaze always flickers away when he catches you looking, but you can’t help noticing the smallest details: the faint crease between his brows when he’s deep in thought, the way his mouth barely tilts when someone cracks a joke he finds halfway amusing. He always brings the mask back up quickly, as if remembering the distance he needs to maintain.

Each time he lifts that mask, you feel as if you’re glimpsing something guarded, something that only a rare few have ever seen. And even though he never lets you linger on it for long, the memory of his face—scar, guarded eyes, the subtle but undeniable humanity there—lingers with you.

His fingers tighten just a fraction, his grip still gentle but more assertive now, like he’s grounding you in this moment. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he replies, the playful edge to his voice now tinged with something else. Something closer to appreciation, or maybe… curiosity?

Before you can say anything else, his thumb drifts slowly, tracing the line of your cheekbone, then gliding downward until it rests just at the corner of your mouth. You feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric of the glove, so close you can almost imagine his bare touch, imagine the weight and warmth without the barrier.

He studies you with an intensity that makes your pulse race, his gaze drifting from your eyes to where his thumb hovers over your lips. His gloved hand is careful but certain, as if he's savoring each detail. Slowly, his thumb meets your bottom lip, light enough to make you shiver, but there’s a sense of restraint in the gesture, like he’s letting himself test boundaries. He brushes along the edge of your bottom lip in a slow, careful sweep, almost as if he’s mapping it out, savoring the softness beneath his touch. He’s close enough that you can see the way his gaze darkens, focused entirely on you, on the way his thumb drags so gently across your lip. Each pass is deliberate, his touch achingly slow, as if he’s caught somewhere between curiosity and something deeper—something he won’t admit, not out loud.

His fingers trace down your jaw, but his thumb stays at your mouth, brushing with a gentleness that makes your heart pound, your breath catching just slightly at each delicate movement. You feel his eyes watching the way your lips part under his touch, as though he’s fascinated, as if each soft curve and line of your mouth is something he’s committing to memory.

The air between you is thick with the weight of things unspoken, a tension you can’t ignore. His touch remains tender but holds a barely restrained intensity, his thumb finally pausing at the center of your lip, resting there like he’s weighing his next move. His gaze is fixed there, as if you’re some intriguing mystery he can’t help but explore. You stand frozen, unable to process the moment. Nobody has ever touched you like this, like you’re an enigma trying to be deciphered. Nobody ever bothered to.

You close your eyes, accepting the strange intimacy of his touch. Your heart beats fast, your hands almost clammy, but you don’t want to pull away. Almost instinctively, you let your lips press softly against his thumb, giving it a light, chaste peck.

You slowly open your eyes, searching his face for a reaction. Did that small gesture bother him? Make him angry? Maybe you went too far. But the moment your gaze locks with his, your doubts crumble. His eyes are dark, intense, almost... possessive. Longing. This isn’t the Ghost you know—the one who watches you with cold, calculating eyes, ready to nitpick your every move, sometimes even with a hint of regret, as if he thinks bringing you back here was a mistake.

Right now, he’s looking at you differently. He’s looking at you like you’re somebody. Like you mean something. Like you’re not just a piece on this chessboard that everyone else is playing.

He’s seeing you.

And it terrifies you.

As if snapping yourself from a dream, you take a quick step back, chuckling awkwardly to break the tension. “Remind me never to drink with you lot again.”

Ghost seems to snap back to reality at the same moment you do, but there’s a flicker of frustration in his eyes, a strain in how his jaw clenches. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. Instead, you take a slow breath, grounding yourself as best you can, then slide the keycard through the reader with a soft beep.

Before you step inside, you glance over your shoulder at him, catching that dark, unreadable look he wears all too well. “Thanks… for walking me to my room,” you murmur, trying to sound casual, like nothing strange just happened.

He nods, barely a movement, but there’s something in his silence that feels heavier than usual, as if he’s holding something back. He lingers for a split second before turning, walking back down the hallway, his steps fading into the distance.

Once the door shuts behind you, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. You lean back against the door, then slowly sink down to the floor, pulling your knees up and resting your forehead against them. Your face is practically burning. Just a few simple touches, a look, and yet here you are, feeling like everything you thought you knew has shifted. It’s hard to explain what exactly happened, even to yourself. But whatever it was, it’s left your heart pounding and your mind spinning with thoughts you can’t quite put into words.

A soft, bewildered smile plays on your lips as you sit there, alone in the quiet, feeling both terrified and somehow… happy.

42 notes · View notes

rollinouttahere-writes · 11 months ago

Note

Shooting my shot asking for a Kaku x adult Lucky fic rather than headcannons this time (you don’t have to if you don’t want to)

Oh trust me, I want to!

I decided to make this a little what if scenario for if Kaku had been successful in running off with her after Enies Lobby

Not So Bad

3.4k words

warnings for yandere content and pregancy mentions (not for Lucky)

Life had taken many turns that you hadn’t been prepared for.

It started with more tame things such as your parents throwing you out when you dropped out of college and the absolutely unhinged shit customers put you through at work. Then you went and got yourself sent to a whole different world, as one does, and after that your life appeared to be speedrunning batshit insane events.

This ultimately culminated in your current situation: Being abducted and forcibly married to one of the many people who had become obsessed with you since entering this bizarre world.

Waves crashed against the ship from outside, lightly jostling you and everyone else on board. Kaku’s arms instinctively tightened around you. The small bed you were both crammed into left no room for personal space, every inch of your body was squeezed against his so as to prevent either of you from falling off the bed at the slightest movement of the ship.

The soft fabric of his nightshirt pressed into your face, likely leaving an imprint in its wake. The steady rise and fall of his chest stuttered slightly from the disturbance of the particularly large wave hitting seconds before, but it evened out again. He’s such a light sleeper that you’re honestly surprised that wasn’t enough to wake him.

Quiet grumbling could be heard behind you as one of the other people you were bunking with complained about how rough the sea was. You could understand why she would be irritated by this. Her morning sickness had been bad enough already, the motion of the ship rocking as much as it was definitely didn’t help.

This particular situation was hardly anything new for you. Ever since Kaku had “eloped” with you after you failed to fight him off at Enies Lobby thanks to your clammy hands dropping your impact dial, you’d been on the run. It made sense, you suppose. You were a wanted pirate after taking part in the attack on Enies Lobby, and he was a former CP9 agent who not only ran but was also being blamed for the situation. It was rare for you two to stay on an island for more than a few weeks. If you stayed any longer you ran the risk of being tracked down by other assassins.

While Kaku’s distinct features made hiding a little more difficult than it needed to be, you lucked out by not having a photograph on your bounty poster. No one had been able to get a picture of you, so they had to settle for a drawing instead. It wasn’t very accurate, though you had to admit it looked much better than Sanji’s. You damn near pissed yourself from how hard you’d laughed after seeing his.

Kaku was outwardly optimistic about your circumstances, assuring you that the manhunt would calm down as the years went by. You’re not sure if he actually believed that or if he was just saying as much to try and comfort you. That was admittedly something he was good at. Lord knows he’d needed to do this more than a few times in your time together.

At first you had resented that tendency of his because he had been the primary cause of your stress. The audacity of him to try and get you to calm down after kidnapping you made you want to scream. Or when he would wildly misconstrue why you were upset. Like the time he thought you were having “pre-wedding jitters” because you’d been fighting him tooth and nail on the way to an extremely shady chapel, and didn’t ONCE consider that maybe you just didn’t want to marry him.

Your kicking and screaming had done nothing to stop it. The officiant didn’t care about your willingness, and Kaku was delusional enough to excuse your behavior as just being nerves or whatever. He’d gotten what he wanted, insisting that he wanted to “do this right”, and now he was your husband whether you liked it or not.

As time went on, your disdain for him was becoming less and less, and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

Sure, at first it was easy to dig your heels in and resist. The Straw Hats would be here any second to save you, you were sure of it. But they never showed. You tried to rationalize it. They didn’t know where you were. With Robin they knew exactly where she went and how to get there, it was easy to chase after her. With you, you had up and vanished without a trace. You’re not even sure they had enough to go off of to know that you’re with Kaku.

Jealousy was an ugly emotion, but that didn’t keep it from brewing within you. You hadn’t seen so much as a hint of the Straw Hats, and that led to you questioning if they were even trying to find you. Were you just deadweight that they were glad to be rid of? You tried to tell yourself that wasn’t true, but it became harder to convince yourself of that as you saw reports of the Straw Hats gaining new members.

Had they replaced you? That easily?

Surprisingly, Kaku had been the one to assure you that likely wasn’t the case. He pointed out how hard they fought to get you back when you were still in Water 7. While he definitely wasn’t a fan of theirs by any means, even he could admit that they cared for you. It was… confusing to hear him of all people defend the Straw Hats.

The real tipping point came after you saw the paper announcing Ace’s death. That broke you.

For a solid month after that, you were inconsolable. There was nothing that anyone could do or say to ease the pain. After the crying had gone from a constant to only happening in random bursts, you had fallen into a deep depression. You wondered if there was something that you could have done to prevent this. Would you have been able to save Ace if you’d been there? The idea that his death was avoidable made you feel sick to your stomach.

All throughout this depressive episode, Kaku had been nothing but kind and patient. He’d been a shoulder to cry on, someone to ramble to about your time spent with Ace in Alabasta and how he was like the brother you never had. Kaku didn’t once get irritated with you over being upset, and he never criticized you for being useless when you were too depressed to get out of bed in the morning. It made him very hard to hate.

Then one night he brought home a kitten he’d found at the construction site he was working on temporarily, one of his many odd jobs he’d picked up. The poor thing was underweight and so filthy that you couldn’t even tell what color it was supposed to be. A rather lengthy bath in the sink had revealed him to be orange, which reminded you of Ace and made you cry again.

Kaku had encouraged you to keep him saying that having the little guy around might help you to feel better, and you saw no reason to argue. You’d always wanted a cat. The kitten was a total sweetheart. Very mischievous and dumb as a brick in true orange cat fashion, but undeniably loving. The idea to name him Ace came to you easily.

Having cat Ace around did wind up being a turning point in your mood. You couldn’t sulk in bed all day when a tiny kitten was raising hell in your room and demanding attention. It was nice having something to take care of.

Ace was presently snuggled up in the crook of your neck, thoroughly worn out from Ellie playing with him for hours on end during the day. Ellie was the daughter of the couple you were sharing a cabin with. The six year old had been ecstatic to see she was rooming with a kitty and had all but begged you to play with him, which you were fine with. Her mother, Clara, had simply been grateful to have her daughter occupied while she struggled with a combination of morning and motion sickness.

Due to both you and Kaku having a wanted status, you typically chose to stay in the cabin of whatever passenger ship you happened to be traveling on so as to minimize the chances of being recognized. This led to you getting to know Clara and Ellie quite well. Not her husband though, who you’re not sure you ever caught the name of.

Kaku had butted heads with him a couple of times over his behavior, starting with when you were boarding the ship and saw that he’d left Clara to haul on all of the luggage herself despite being very noticeably pregnant. Both of you were quick to help her, while Kaku made a jab at him for being a “ninnyhammer”. Honestly you think he was more mad about not knowing what that meant than being insulted.

None of you saw much of him after that. He’d spent the day socializing and drinking, only coming back to the cabin after everyone else had already gone to bed.

You’ve been awake since he came back. Partially because you’ve had a lot on your mind as of late, but mostly because you really needed to pee. You thought that it could wait until morning at first, but it had become clear that wasn’t going to be the case.

There was no use in trying to sneak out of the bed without waking up Kaku. With how closely pressed you two were, even a heavy sleeper would be awoken from the movement. The second you shifted yourself up onto one elbow, his eyes shot open.

“Is something wrong?” His voice was thick with sleep, but his eyes were alert.

“I need to go to the bathroom. Hold Ace so he doesn’t run out after me,” you pulled the kitten away from your neck and handed him over. Ace mewled in protest.

“Alright, will do,” Kaku murmured while holding the feline gently.

After slipping on your shoes and a housecoat over your pajamas, you quietly snuck out of the room.

One of the downsides to being sent to a world that was in a time period before your own was that things were less advanced than you were used to. Unfortunately that applied to the bathrooms. In the absence of plumbing, the “toilets” were in cramped rooms at the front of the ship that essentially just had a hole in the floor hanging over the ocean below.

Admittedly, this ship’s toilets were bougie in comparison to some of the others you’ve been on. At least these afforded you some privacy, unlike a few of the others that simply had you out in the elements for anyone and everyone to see your bare ass.

You’re not sure you made it ten feet from the room when you could hear the door open and close again. Your eye twitched in annoyance. Where could Kaku possibly think you would go while on a ship in the middle of the ocean? You hadn’t tried to run in months after learning quickly that you had no hope of being able to get away from him, not with how athletic he was.

With a huff, you stop and look over your shoulder. Instead of seeing your paranoid husband, your eyes fell upon Ellie. She jogged over, nightgown bouncing with each step, “Are you going to the toilets? Can I come with you?”

“Oh, yeah of course,” you waited for her to close the gap before continuing.

Ellie reached up to grab your hand as you made your way down the dimly lit hall, “Thank you! I really needed to go but was too scared to go by myself, it’s so spooky in here at night.” That it was. The sparsely placed oil lamps did little to illuminate the halls, the moonlight shining in through the windows was doing more than they were. “And I didn’t want to ask mama since she doesn’t feel so good.”

“Aww, that was very considerate of you,” sadly she appeared to be more concerned for her mother’s well being than the woman’s husband was. It wasn’t surprising that she hadn’t even considered asking her father to go with her, you don’t think you’ve seen them speak to each other once.

She tugged on your hand and looked up at you expectantly, “Hey, can I play with Ace again tomorrow?”

“I don’t see why not, he seems to be quite fond of you,” you couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. Ellie squealed and walked with a skip in her step.

Distantly, you wondered how Ace would feel about you naming a cat after him. He might be a little indignant about it at first, especially if you talked about how dumb the kitten was, but you think he would come around. Cat Ace is charming in his own right, he’d be able to win over human Ace. If… If he’d had the chance to. You shook your head. No, you weren’t going to let yourself spiral again tonight, and certainly not when you were escorting a child to the bathroom.

After a somewhat long trek, the head finally came into view. Ellie let go of your hand and ran into one of the private rooms. She must have really had to go. You entered your room of choice with a decidedly calmer gait. It was very dark in there, with the only light coming from the slits in the wall letting in both fresh air and moonlight.

Wanting to get out of here as quickly as possible, you got down to business. The choppy waters did not make balancing yourself particularly easy, but you managed. After washing your hands in a bowl of water that you were trying your hardest not to think too hard about the cleanliness of, you took a moment to look at yourself in the mirror.

Pushing back the partial bangs Kaku had given you to hide your scar- that he swore up and down he wasn’t bothered by, this was purely to hide your identity- you traced over the scar. It had long since healed over, but the memories associated with it felt fresh.

Again, your thoughts drifted to the Straw Hats. A few months ago, they had disappeared. No one knew where they were and there was talk of them having disbanded. You didn’t buy it, Luffy was far too determined to give up on his dream, and his crew was too loyal to leave him, but where did that leave you?

When they first left the public eye, you had thought it was done intentionally so they could come rescue you. It would be harder for Kaku to avoid them if he had no idea where they were. That never happened. It was really starting to feel like they had abandoned you. Makes sense, you suppose, you were quite the handful for them. What with all the people chasing after you and fighting them to get to you. It was probably nice to not have to worry about that anymore.

It hurt. A lot.

But not as much as you thought it would. Kaku has told you time and time again how much he loved you, and you did believe him. At first you thought he was just obsessed and nothing more, but as time went on and he went out of his way to try and make you happy, you found yourself doubting him less and less.

You wouldn’t say that you loved him, but you’re not sure how much longer that will be the case. He’d been successful in making you at least a little fond of him. You would willingly engage in conversations with him and honestly didn’t mind him holding you at night anymore. There have also been a few instances of you getting… carried away, but you didn’t want to think about that right now.

Were a few kind words and gentle touches really all it took to make you overlook the extremely dubious beginning of your relationship with him? Were you really that easy to win over? How pathetic.

Another rough jolt of the ship snapped you out of your thoughts. A dingy bathroom was hardly the kind of place you should be staying in any longer than necessary. The wooden door creaked loudly as you forced it open, making you wince.

Ellie was standing on a bench beneath a large window, taking in the sight of the ocean at night. She flashed you a large grin and hopped down when you approached. The walk back to your shared room was filled with speculations about what the island you were heading to would be like. It was a welcomed distraction from your previous train of thought.

As you rounded the corner of the hallway your cabin resided in, you spotted a figure stationed outside of your room. Your pulse quickened, briefly panicking as you wondered who it was, but then he turned and his side profile gave away his identity immediately. Ah, it was just Kaku. Though you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing out here.

He likely spotted both of you the second you entered the hall, and he spoke up once you got close enough to hear him. His eyes were focused on Ellie, “Your mother’s fretting over you, you should go in and let her know you’re alright.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you for walking with me, Lucky!” Ellie gave you a quick hug before scurrying into the room

It wasn’t until then that you noticed a disgruntled Ace in Kaku’s arms who was all but clawing at him to get to you. Naturally, you scooped him up and brought your dear pet to your chest, causing him to purr.

“Did something happen? Why was Clara so worked up?” You lightly stroked the kitten’s face, making him purr even harder.

“She didn’t realize her little ankle biter had slipped out of the room after you and got into a tizzy over where she had gone. She settled a bit after I said I saw her leave with you, but I figured she’d prefer to see Ellie in the room again.” Kaku sidled up to you, one of his hands found purchase on your shoulder and his head rested against your own. You allowed it, even leaning into him.

A comfortable silence blanketed you two as you lingered in the hall, swaying lightly with the current of the ocean.

“You do so well with children. Ellie adores you.” Was murmured into your ear.

Your breath hitched in your throat. You knew where he was going with that. Kaku had been open about his desire to have children since your encounter in Enies Lobby. Over the months that you’ve been together, he’d made several comments about it. From observations that you were good with kids when you did interact with them, to asking what kind of names you liked best. He wasn’t subtle, but he never pushed it when you changed the subject.

“I guess so? Ellie’s a good kid, it’s hard not to get along with her.” You honestly weren’t sure how you felt about the idea of having children of your own, you were hardly in the best state of mind to be thinking about such things.

Kaku hummed in agreement and held you to him just a little bit tighter. After a moment, he released you, “We should hit the hay, it’s late.” He didn’t wait for an answer before gently guiding you back to the room.

Slipping off your housecoat was slightly difficult to do while holding Ace, but he was too cute for you to want to put him down so you made it work. Kaku was already in the small bed and helped you climb in, keeping a firm grip on you so that you wouldn’t be thrown to the floor from a poorly timed wave.

Yet again, you were squished against each other from the lack of space. A couple of months ago, you would have hated this. Now? It didn’t seem so awful.

Your face was buried in his chest as Ace squirmed around in an attempt to get himself comfortable. Kaku’s lips pressed against your forehead for a brief kiss and he mumbled out a quiet “sweet dreams” before fully settling into the bed.

Maybe loving him wouldn’t be so bad.

#lucky break #kaku one piece #kaku x reader #yandere one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece

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tightjeansjavi · 1 year ago

Text

Cigarettes & Feelings

“I know you see me there you’re always playing this game”

(Javi Peña x f! reader) Part 2 (+18)

A/N: if there’s one thing I love, it’s a man in denial about having a crush, and a man coming to accept that he does have said crush. It’s chefs kiss. You’ll be angry with Javi in the first half of the chapter (he’s a douche) but after a quick trip to the brothel, he’s got his shit straightened out..well, sorta.

Happy reading! ♡

~word count: 3.9k~

Summary: Agent Peña, Bogotá's infamous playboy. Has he met his match when he meets you, the US Embassy's newest receptionist.

Warnings: Javi acting like a stereotypical douche/playboy, Murphy tells him to cut that shit out, Javi takes his frustrations out at the brothel, smut (not with the reader) protected sex, nipple play, doggy style, praise kink, very light breath play, teasing, pillow talk, nicknames such as: cariño, hermosa, muñeca, whore is used but not in a derogatory sense, Javi is put in his place twice, denial of feelings of course, Javi and the reader reach a middle ground by the end of the chapter, angsty vibes, internal thoughts, denial, pining (if you squint) Javi is turning over a new leaf thanks to some much needed advice, ends on a cliffhanger sorry not sorry hehe, (+18) minors dni!

Agent Peña Playlist:

Bogotá, Colombia 1988

It had been a whole month since you started to work at the US Embassy in Colombia. An entire month of Javier Peña’s fruitless attempts at getting you to fall for his vexatious charm. He’d go out of his way to make a comment about your nails. Saying that a specific shade of pink that was doted on your nails, really brought out the color in your eyes. Could he be any less original? Every time ‘querida’ or ‘hermosa’ or any other nicknames Javier had so graciously given you would slip past his plush pink lips, your eyes would immediately roll like a pair of dice. It was becoming a routine for you, turning down agent Peña’s flirtations towards you was a piece of cake. The other receptionists started to catch on as well and no longer fed into the agent's bullshit.

Javier was feeling personally vexed by you. Even more so now that he could no longer look forward to a quick fuck from one of the other receptionists that used to be wrapped around his finger. It seemed like you were going to end up being a real thorn in his side. Murphy on the other hand was truly getting a kick out of seeing his partner getting shot down by you everyday. It was like clockwork, and a breath of fresh air to see Javier be humbled by you.

“You know..she’s really not even that pretty. Average at best.” Javi had muttered with a cigarette pursed between his lips as he was going through another file that could potentially help bring down Pablo Escobar.

“Wasn’t it just the other day you were saying that she was the hottest thing on two legs? Or were you talking about someone else? Hard to keep track of all of them, Javi.” Murphy didn’t even look up from his typewriter and he already knew that Javi was rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, that was when she wasn’t getting in my way of getting some decent pussy around here. She’s somehow managed to get every single fucking woman in the office to turn on me. Un-fucking believable.” Javi was in fact rolling his eyes.

“Why don’t you just jerk off like a normal fucking person if it aggravates you that much. Or, I don’t know, maybe not eye fuck her every chance you get? Just a thought. Connie would be tearing you a new one if she heard the shit that just came out of your mouth Peña.” Murphy reached over and snatched the file from the agent's hands without another word.

Javier's eyes narrowed over his desk. He was feeling annoyed and perhaps even a little offended by Murphy’s words. “Is that what your married life consists of? Only having the option to jerk off? You poor poor man.” He pushed himself out of his chair with a huff as he doused his cigarette out and grabbed his leather jacket. “I’m going out.” He announced to the other agent before grabbing his badge and gun and strode out the office space. He walked right past your little cubicle, and you could feel the irritation radiating off of his skin as his magnetic cinnamon brown eyes met yours for a millisecond before he was quickly looking away, gritting his jaw tightly.

Murphy was chuckling under his breath as Javi announced his departure. His stature alone was a dead giveaway on where exactly he was headed off to. Javi often visited the local brothel whenever he was facing frustrations that could only seemingly be coddled by his cock sheathed in a woman’s warmth. “Uh huh. Enjoy getting your dick wet, asshole.” Murphy muttered to himself before he got up from his desk and made his way over to your cubicle.

“Let me guess, he’s off to the brothel again?” You looked up at the agent with a small grin graced across your features.

“He sure is. I think you’ve really managed to get unimaginably deep beneath his skin. I gotta say, I’m impressed. He’ll be back after he goes and licks his wounds. Good job on keeping him humbled.” He shot you a wink, giving you a light fist bump.

“Have I really? I had no idea he was that sensitive. You’d think at this point he’d just get over himself.” You let out a faux sigh of disappointment.

“Javier? Getting over himself? Not a chance, sweetheart. You’re certainly giving him a run for his money. It’s a breath of fresh air to see.”

“A man’s gotta give up eventually, right? How long is he realistically going to keep this up?”

“Not Javier I’m afraid. The only way he’s going to give up is if he feels like he stands no chance. Right now, he still thinks that you’re just playing a game with him.” Murphy stated what he felt was the obvious.

You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head. Javier Peña was vexing you in his own way.

“A game that he has no chance of winning.”

The sound of skin slapping against sweat soaked skin mixed in with high octave moans of pleasure could be heard through the thin walls of one of Medellíns many brothels. Javier was a frequent customer who tipped well, and never left a woman there feeling unsatisfied.

Catalina was his personal favorite at this brothel but he wasn’t particularly picky either. He just liked her for the fact that she understood him best. Always let him vent to her after he’d fuck her brains out. He never had a problem paying her extra for her services.

His hand was firmly wrapped around her throat with his thumb lightly applying pressure to her windpipe as he fucked her from behind. His free hand found purchase around her middle, grasping firmly around the soft tissue of her breast as he yanked her back against his chest. Her strangled moans drove him forward as he snapped his hips against her ass at an unforgiving pace. His lips were all over her skin, her cheek, jawline, neck. He was a biter. His teeth nipped at the skin below her ear as filth slipped past his lips. “Give it to me, hermosa. I need it so bad. Soak my cock with this tight little pussy. C’mon, muñeca. Give. It. To. Me.” He grunted deeply against her ear, letting his hand drift from her breast down her navel where his fingers began to toy with her clit, rubbing the small bud in tight, expert circles.

She came undone around him shortly after, crying out his name.

Javi. Javi. Javi.

“Cata, how do I get through to someone as stubborn as her? This game her and I are playing is fun, don’t get me wrong, but she’s so fucking frustrating.” Javier spoke with a soft breath, resting his arm behind his head as she lit the cigarette between his lips, brushing her fingers across his jawline gently.

“Javier, not every woman is going to be interested in you. Although, I can’t wrap my head around as to why..” she pressed a kiss to his bicep, resting her cheek along the crook of his neck.

Javi took a deep inhale as he let his free arm gently drop along her shoulders, fingers lightly dancing across her warm skin. “She’s the first woman I have come across that hasn’t shown a lick of interest in me. Or, she just does a real damn good job of hiding it from me.” He chuckled, blowing the smoke up towards the low-lit ceiling.

“Are you nice to her, Javier? You’re gorgeous, no doubt, but not every woman is into asshole DEA agents. Maybe you should try a different tactic and see how she responds? I know women very very well. We deserve to be, and should be respected by our male counterparts. I may be a whore, who enjoys being fucked like one, but that doesn’t mean I’d enjoy it if you degraded me, or made me feel like I was less than a person.”

Javier paused for a moment, closing his eyes as he took a deep inhale. No, he hadn’t really thought about it that way. Had he disrespected you and just not realized it? Perhaps Catalina was right, perhaps he needed to take an entirely different approach when it came to pursuing you. “Yeah, I’d say I’m pretty nice. I make comments about her nails and how the shade she is wearing really brings out the color of her eyes. Okay, and I eye fuck her at least once or twice a day. I’ve respected you, haven’t I? I’ve..never degraded you, have I muñeca?”

Catalina couldn’t help but lightly giggle as she pressed a soft kiss to his neck, reaching up and plucked the cigarette between his lips and brought the unlit end to her own, taking a slow drag as she rolled over onto her back with ease. “My sweet, it sounds to me that you might be developing a crush for this girl, hmm? Has Javier Peña finally met his match? Perhaps you should stop eye fucking her, and cool it with the compliments. Those end up growing old very fast, and she probably would appreciate it if you had..a normal conversation with her? You have always respected me, Javi. You happen to be my favorite customer and no, it’s not just because of your cock. You’re a passionate lover, and I appreciate the fact that you’ve never treated me any differently for the fact that I’m a whore. So why would you treat this girl any differently?”

Javier couldn’t help but scoff under his breath at her comment about him having a crush on you. Javier Peña did not have crushes. He fucked with no strings attached, period. “Hermosa, I do not have a crush on her. Since when do I ever have crushes? Do I look like a little school girl to you?” He chuckled, rolling over onto his elbow, propping himself up. He let his hand drift around her bare breast, lightly toying with her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, before he was leaning over and replacing his fingers with his mouth as he wrapped his lips around the nub, kissing and licking languidly.

Catalina let out a hum, letting her eyes flutter shut as she took another drag from the cigarette. She slowly slid her fingers through his sexed up hair, twirling a strand around her finger. “Denial is the first stage to acceptance, Javi. I know a man that has a crush when I see one, and you most definitely have one cariño.”

Javi let out a low growl, scraping his teeth along her sensitive nub as he flicked his tongue across it, nose firmly pressed against the top of her plush breast. “I. Do. Not. Have. A. Crush.” He enunciated each syllable against her skin just to prove his point.

Catalina let out a low hiss, nearly dropping the cigarette from between her lips as she gripped his hair at the roots and firmly tugged on it. “Keep on telling yourself that Javier. You and I both know you’re lying.” She mewled.

Javier ignored her as his hand drifted down between her thighs and he wasted no time to coax them open so he could drag his fingers through her slick. “Hermosa, less talking. Let me take care of you some more.”

Javier didn’t leave the brothel till almost the evening hours. He paid Catalina handsomely for her services and then some. Before returning to the office, he made a quick pit stop at his apartment so he could shower, and rinse away the aroma of cum, and the stench of sex that was still lingering on his skin.

He was surprised to see that you were working late on a Friday night. He expected that you’d have some plans to go out dancing or drinking with friends. The night life in Medellín was like none other. More so, he was surprised that you were walking over to his desk of all places. What game could you possibly be playing at now, he wondered.

You weren’t 100% sure as to why you felt like being the bigger person and saying goodnight to Javier before you’d leave the office for the evening. Your feet were moving before your brain could stop you, and soon you found yourself standing in front of his desk.

He had a cigarette pursed between his lips, (he always did) and the smoke billowed up around his face like a gray halo. He was anything but a saint.

“Goodnight, Javier. I hope you have a pleasant weekend.”

Javi slowly looked up at you. He gave you a once over, despite Catalina’s warning to not do that anymore. His brow was raised as you bid him a good evening. “You as well, cariño. Have any fun plans for the weekend?” He was genuinely curious to hear your answer.

Your Friday night plans consisted of a bottle of wine, and a good book. You hadn’t made any friends as of yet, but Javier did not need to know that. That’s the last thing you needed the DEA agent to know.

“Uh huh. I do have fun plans actually.” The way you were no longer meeting his stare, was a dead giveaway for Javi to know that you were lying to him.

“Yeah? Well, what are these said fun plans that you have hermosa?” Javier asked with a smirk playing on his lips, taking a deep drag as the tip of the cigarette burned bright orange.

“Okay, so I lied. I don’t have any fun plans. Unless you consider going home and curling up on the couch with a good book, and a glass of wine, fun plans then no.”

Javier was shocked for the second time that evening in a matter of mere minutes. “You mean to tell me that someone as attractive as you are, has absolutely no plans to go out on this beautiful Friday night in Medellín? I don’t believe that for a minute cariño.”

“Yeah, so how about you don’t rub it in my face? Thanks. Anyway, I’m leaving now.” You were already turning on your heel when you felt Javier’s warm palm gently make contact with your wrist.

“I’m not trying to rub it in your face or anything like that hermosa. I’m genuinely just shocked that you’re not going out tonight. Medellín has so much to offer.” He paused, thinking about what he could say next and then it hit him. Here was his chance to see you outside the workplace for once.

“Well, you’re more than welcome to come out for drinks with Steve and I, and his wife Connie. I just have something to finish up here, and then I am going to go meet them.” He doused his cigarette against the ashtray, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he waited for your answer with a bated breath.

“Are you inviting me out for drinks because you think you’re going to get lucky tonight? Cause if that’s the case, then no. I’ll politely pass.” You fought the urge to scoff at the fact that he even bothered to ask you.

“No, that won’t be necessary at all. Can’t a coworker ask another coworker out for drinks and not assume he’s going to end up lucky?” Javier had a frown playing across his kissable lips that made you want to believe that he had an ulterior motive. Truthfully, you would much rather go out for drinks than spend another night alone.

“Okay, fine. No funny business, right?” You looked at him with a raised brow, arms crossed over your chest.

“No funny business, cariño. I promise. I’ll be on my very best behavior.” Javier assured you.

“Great. Glad that we’re finally on the same page, Peña. I’ll just need to run to my apartment real quick to change. These heels are fucking killing me.”

Javi was already up from his desk, grabbing his badge, gun and box of smokes as he swung his leather jacket over his shoulders. “Well, can’t say I’m surprised about that. They look incredibly uncomfortable. I give major props to you, and the other ladies in the office for wearing them everyday. Is your place far from here? I could always drive you, if you’d like.”

“I thought you had something you needed to finish up Javier?” You glanced over at him wearily as you processed the fact that he was genuinely being nice to you and not eye fucking you like you were a piece of meat. “Sure, that would be great actually. Just don’t get any ideas, alright?”

“It’ll become Monday’s problem. Although, Murphy and I are always on the job. Hence why I keep my badge and gun on me at all times. You just never know when you might really need it.” He swung his keys lightly around his finger as he gestured for you to walk in front. “What kinda ideas would I possibly get from you letting me drive you to your apartment cariño?” He couldn’t help but lightly chuckle as he walked alongside you, flicking the light off on his way out.

“Does it ever weigh on you? Not physically, but the fact that you always have to keep it on you?” You looked over at him as you adjusted the strap of your bag along your shoulder. “The kind that will make you think that I’m going to be inviting you into my apartment Javier.”

Javi wasn’t expecting your question to say the least. Your words immediately had a visible effect on him as it weighed on his mind. He held the door open to the parking lot on the side of the building for you to walk through first. “Sometimes it does. I usually don’t actively think about it. The badge and gun have just become a part of me, in a sense. If they’re not on my person, then they’re right next to my nightstand when I sleep. It just comes with this line of work. You always have to be prepared for the worst.” He opened the passenger side door for you. “I’ll wait outside your apartment door. How does that sound to you?”

“So I take it..there’s never a moment where you ever let your guard down? Simply because if you do, it could be a situation of either living or dying? Or maybe that’s too extreme for me to say.” You gave him a small nod as you climbed into the passenger seat taking a note of how tidy his car was. There was a lingering scent of tobacco smoke and cologne that seemed to be embedded in the upholstered seats.

Javi lightly shut the door behind you before he made his way over to the driver's seat and climbed in before he started the engine. “I’ve let my guard down plenty of times, hermosa. I’m only human after all. Mistakes happen unfortunately. I do my best to avoid those kinds of situations from happening, but sometimes it’s truly out of our control.” He placed his arm around the back of your seat as he backed out of the parking spot. You felt the warm skin of his forearm lightly brush against your neck. It sent welcoming shivers down your spine.

“I understand what you’re saying. You are only human after all like you said. I have to ask, do you think you’re gonna catch him?” Javier knew you were referring to Pablo Escobar. A Spineless coward, who was violent, and frankly a piece of shit that Javier wanted nothing more to see him rot in an American prison.

“If we don’t catch him, then I personally have failed the people of Medellín. This city is beautiful, vibrant, and Escobar has done nothing but fucking taint it.” He inhaled deeply, shaking his head at the thought of this slimiest excuse of man slipping through the DEA’s grasp once again. “Do you mind if we..if we don’t talk about my job for the rest of the evening? You’re not prying, and I can’t fault you for being curious, but I don’t sleep much as it is because of everything that is going on.”

Javi was internally beating himself up for allowing himself to show a moment of weakness to you. He didn’t want you to know just how much being a DEA agent truly affected him. He didn’t want you to know about everything he had sacrificed, and lost, just to get to where he was. He certainly did not need you knowing that he thought of himself as a failure.

You were shocked to see that a layer of figuratively tough skin was being pulled back from Javier’s natural flirtatious and playboy persona that he performed so well. You could only imagine what he had experienced in his line of work. “Of course. I’m sorry for bringing it up in the first place, Javi.” You thought about saying more, but the last thing you wanted to do was come across as being disingenuous.

Javi glanced at you for a moment as he did a damn good job of hiding his smile when you had comfortably called him Javi, instead of Javier. “Cariño, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for being curious. You’re not the first person to ask me about my job, and you won’t be the last. How about we both agree to just..let work go for the evening. It’s your first night out in Medellín, and I want to make sure it’s a memorable one.”

You were looking over at him now from where you sat in the passenger seat. “Okay, deal. Let’s let work go for the rest of the evening.”

“Trato, cariño.”

You gave Javi the directions to your apartment. It was just a few miles from the office, but you were grateful for him driving you. He waited just outside your apartment door, as promised. His back was against the wall, cigarette pursed between his lips as he lit the tip of it with practiced ease. As he waited for you to finish getting ready, he pressed the base of his palm against his forehead, replaying the conversation he had with you in his head, over and over again. Is this what Catalina meant when she advised him to be nicer to you? Did she mean that he needed to be vulnerable? He hated being vulnerable. He hated showing any signs of emotions, or weakness. So why the hell did he find it to be so goddamn easy to open up to you?

Just as he was pondering over the possible answer to his disarray, your apartment door opened, ceasing his current thoughts when he took in your appearance with a heavy gulp.

“What? Is there something on my face?” You asked when you caught the DEA agent staring at you for far too long. You could feel your skin heating up under his gaze. Except this time, he wasn’t staring at you like he wanted nothing more than to take you back into your apartment and fuck you into your mattress.

Oh no, Javier Peña was staring at you with timid adoration. His brown swirled with warm flecks of cinnamon eyes gazing at you under the fluorescent hanging light alongside your apartment door. The tip of his cigarette blazing orange, creating a flicker between his and your eyes.

“No. I am simply just finding myself being transfixed by your beauty, hermosa.” The words flowed thoughtfully past his plush lips.

Shit.

Tag List: @chaotic-mystery @peterhollandkait @pedgeitopascal @userpedros @pedrospartner @korynnekorynne @kirsteng42 @yazsos @last-girl @amanitacowboy @lovers-liability @tinygarbage @777-wonders @dinsdjrn @myrealmofchaos @loquaciousferret @pedrostories @axshadows @dev1lm4n

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 years ago

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Imagine...The Boys Not Realizing You’re A Hunter

Pairing: Dean x cop!reader

Oh, this was guy was all bull and you knew it. They both were but at least the taller one was making a better effort at hiding it. If these two were FBI you were the Easter bunny.

If he wanted to treat you like the dumb local cop too, he had another thing coming.

“We’re gonna need to go in-“

“You both realize it’s pouring out,” you said.

“It’s rain,” said the shorter one, Agent Plant he’d said his name was. You had to force yourself not to roll your eyes at that one. “I need-“

“Well you’re going to freeze to death. You look like you just stepped out of the shower,” you said, crossing your arms.

“Oh you’d know the difference,” he said, an angry smirk on his face. A snarky comment settled on the tip of your tongue but you held it back.

“No going in the woods. I see either one of you in there, I arrest you,” you said. “Understand?”

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you,” mumbled the shorter one, his hair spiked up and dark from the rain.

“No woods.”

You nearly rolled your eyes when you saw these two walking around in the woods that night. Idiots were going to get themselves killed. They probably thought it was some strange Wendigo or something.

You snuck behind them, the taller one moving ahead to check out a noise that truly was just a rabbit. You went up behind the other, his whole body stilling when you pressed your gun to his neck.

“You two,” you said, the guy you had holding up his hands, the other spinning around and pointing his shotgun at you. The one with you tried to break away but you grabbed the nape of his neck and adjusted your gun, the guy taking a few deep breaths. “Put it down.”

The tall one glared but did as told and dropped his weapon, the one next to you starting to relax a little.

“Starting to get the picture?” you said, gently releasing him. He nodded but tried to reach back. You groaned and hooked your boot around his, nearly tripping him until you grabbed him again. “I got all night if you’re gonna keep this up.”

“Told you the hot cop was into me,” he said, the other one scowling. “Listen. This sounds crazy but the thing that’s doing this ain’t an animal.”

“I know. I also know two hunters when I see them,” you said. You lowered your gun and took your hand off him, the men exchanging glances. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“No shit,” said the one beside you, absolutely beaming now. “We heard you’re a bit of a lone wolf, always have been.”

“Ever since I was a wee little hunter,” you said, giving him a smirk.

“I’m Sam,” said the tall one. “That’s Dean. We’re-“

“Winchesters. Wondered how I haven’t run into you two yet,” you said.

“So are you actually a cop?” asked Sam.

“Eh, sort of. I help out when the local chief wants to take a vacation. Saved his kid about five years back. Nice family,” you said. “I thought I told you two to stay out of here.”

“We don’t listen well,” said Dean, giving you a smile.

“You assholes didn’t listen to me about the rain, did you,” you sighed, pointing at your hood.

“It’s a little water, Y/N,” said Dean.

“Did you notice attacks only occur on rainy nights? The rain gets in your hair and that’s how it tracks. It’s blind but that weird combo for some reason lights you up like a Christmas tree to it,” you said.

Both of them immediately put a hand on their wet heads.

“Yeah, that won’t work now. We got to get you two out of here before it comes after you,” you said.

“What’s is this thing?” asked Dean. “We thought-”

“Cursed witch. It’s a long story,” you said. “Best guess is kill it with a blade to the heart.”

“Yeah,” said Dean, spinning around when you heard a rustle in the trees. “Witch?”

“Yup. Get ready.”

“So you boys going to be alright? Took a hard fall there,” you said when you got back to your cars.

“We’ve had worse,” said Sam.

“Want to grab a drink?” asked Dean as he tossed his bag in his trunk.

“Sorry. Lone wolf and all,” you said.

“You did just work a hunt with two other hunters and all,” said Sam, giving you a smile.

“I’m not big on the getting attached thing,” you said.

“You could learn to like it,” said Dean. “One drink on me. Not letting you say no.”

“Alright. Maybe I’ll have a drink or two,” you said.

“Two? Told you she had the hots for me, Sammy,” laughed Dean.

“In your dreams, Winchester.”

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #dean supernatural

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 3 months ago

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The hills turn crimson as I take your hand in mine (Part 2)

Detective!Shanks x reader. Modern AU. As usual, NSFW!! This is part two of two.

Title inspired by a verse of Left on Mars by Marko Hietala & Tarja Turunen.

Discussion of child kidnapping and child abuse but nothing graphic is shown. Characters deaths (not Shanks or reader), two past and one in the course of the story. Luffy and Zoro are both nine, Shanks is in his late twenties.

Animanga characters who have not (yet) appeared on the show are mentioned; Shanks is Roger’s and Rayleigh’s son.

*****

You don’t get car sick, which is certainly lucky for you, since most of the expeditions in the pursuit of the various missing people you had been tasked to find occurred on the road, even if a few times you did have to take a plane, and once even a boat. You still remember Garp’s car, that the commander drove with you sitting by his side and a second vehicle, usually driven by his assistant Bogard and to use in case of engine trouble or accidents, following you; he had bought a car cushion especially for you, since the seats felt too hard on your backside, and he always treated you to tea at the end of every mission, even if you had arrived too late.

You liked Garp. At first, soon after you had been assigned as his partner at the end of your training, you felt quite intimidated by him, but his rank and physical presence, but in time you got to see he was a good man, who actually believed in what you both did, and would have given everything to save, or punish, the people you were chasing. Had circumstances been different, you would have been happy to help him… and you don’t want to believe he’s hiding something from you and Shanks, even if you have to admit the fact that he tasked a former agent to find Luffy, rather than following the normal procedure of the force for kidnapping cases is suspicious.

“Everything alright?” Shanks asks, interrupting your ruminations “I can stop if you need a break.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” you assure him, and you really are. His hair tousled by the wind, his relaxed posture against the car seat, the open collar of his white shirt showing a glimpse of his tan chest… Shanks is more handsome than ever, so attractive that no matter how sincerely worried you are for Luffy, you’re seriously tempted to beg him to park the car in a secluded corner so that you can jump his bones.

If you didn’t have a missing child to worry about, this would be an excellent way to spend a morning: cool air coming in through the car’s window, music on the radio, an attractive man by your side, the conversation flowing easy and relaxed. You can almost pretend you and Shanks are taking a pleasure trip, with no concern save enjoying each other’s company, that you’ll stop for lunch somewhere and then, perhaps, you’ll end the day together at your place or his. It’d be nice; it’d be amazing, really, and perhaps it may still happen one day…

You’ve been travelling for little less than three hours, leaving Foosha City behind you to cross vast expanses of countryside; Shanks drives smoothly, below the speed limit despite the almost empty roads, having assured you he doesn’t mind the radio turned on, and you concentrate on Luffy every few minutes, to make sure he is still where you first picked him up - a place you still don’t have a name, or even a general direction, for, but that you are slowly drawing closer to.

This is how it works, a process that is the same for all Hounds but that you still can’t articulate to describe it to those who have never experienced it. Despite the name, those like you do not perceive the smell of the person they need to find, and the trace has nothing to do with their nose, nor with a sound their ears pick up. It’s a call, an instinct that pushes you forward, as if you and the person you had been tasked with retrieving were the two opposite poles of a magnet, and you were inexorably attracted towards them.

Have you ever heard of a dog who tracks down his family after they have moved and left him on the highway? Belle-mère told you once, or how birds cover great distances during their migrations, finding their way across the globe? A theory says that like some animals, Hounds can detect the Earth’s magnetic field and we orient ourselves through that, another that it’s a sort of low-level telepathy; maybe we’ll never know, and I don’t particularly care. Maybe this ability we have is proof of the infinite potential of the human mind, an ability only few have unlocked but that is latent in all of us. We have been given this gift, and the least we can do is to put it to good use.

She was right, of course, your trainer, and you’re determined to make the most of her teachings; you’ll never forgive yourself for not realising Makino might have had a good reason to run away, but you won’t make the same mistake twice: you’ll make sure Luffy is safe, whether that means bringing him back to his parents or leaving him where he is.

You promise yourself.

“So.” you say in the end, turning to look at the man next to you, full of a new determination “Want to tell me why you dislike Hounds so much?”

You see Shanks tense; he hesitates for a moment, his eyes fixed on the road as you pass a truck, and then he sighs. “I guess I owe it to you; you told me your story, even though it pained you, not to mention those hurtful things about Hounds I said over the phone.”

“Well, I don’t think you owe me.” you precise, immediately regretting your request “And I’m not offended; I just wish we could talk freely, you know… like friends do.”

“Is this what we are? Friends?”

“I’m sorry, you must think I’m very stupid…”

“On the contrary; I think you’re the sweetest woman I’ve ever met. It’s just that I don’t usually do with my friends what we did last night.”

“True.” you admit, and he smiles - breathtaking once more, even if it lasts just for a moment before Shanks’ expression turns serious. “I’ve never told anyone about this; well, except Beck, but we were friends already when it happened and he sort of lived it through me, so he doesn’t count.”

You nod mutely, well aware of the responsibility that confidence entails; Shanks is not going to confess a murder, nor to share with you the launch codes of a nuclear missile, but what he’s about to tell you is important for him, a source of great pain, and that deserves respect.

“I had a friend when I was a child; his name was Buggy, we sat next to each other in class, we were literally attached at the hip; we got in trouble so many times… His dream was to become a clown in the circus; weird, I know, but he had talent. I thought we’d be friends forever; we had sworn we’d be… until one day Buggy disappeared.”

You remain silent, unsurprised when you realise Shanks is pulling over, parking the car in a stopping place at the side of the road; he stops the engine, sighs as he rests his arm on the steering wheel, and keeps talking, without looking at you.

“We were both twelve. We usually left school together, went to his place or mine to watch TV and do our homework together; but that day we had a math test and I hadn’t studied, so I pretended I was sick, and my dads let me stay home. Our classmates remembered seeing Buggy leave at the end of the school day, alone; he never arrived home, and no one ever saw him again.”

You silently reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers; your hand is squeezed gently, but Shanks is still not looking at you, lost as he is in his memories.

“Buggy’s parents did try asking for the Hounds’ help; the best in the country offered their help, but no one was able to find any trace of Buggy, no matter how long they kept sniffing his clothes and his toys. In the end, two months after his disappearance, the Police officially closed the investigation, and no one else gave a shit -sorry- about Buggy anymore, only me and his parents. I cried every night, but they were crushed… and that’s why, I think, they believed that woman.”

It is, unfortunately, a story you have already heard: unscrupulous criminals, without a drop of Hound ability, that prey on the fear and desperation of family and friends of missing people offering to find the spouse, the child, the parent who disappeared - for a fee, obviously. Shanks’ case is partially different though, because the person who took advantage of Buggy’s parents was a Hound, with a respectable career behind her.

“They were intelligent people, but the disappearance of their son had somehow… lowered their defences. They would have believed anything and anyone for the barest hope that Buggy was alive and could come back to them, and as I said, that woman had already found many people, she wasn’t a fraud; how could they suspect she was lying? The woman had them give her his favourite shirt and pretended to sense him; Buggy was alive, she said, but it would take time to find him, she had so many other people willing to pay for her services, and she needed expensive tools and other things to make sure her readings were accurate… in three months they had given her everything they owned, and even took out a loan on their house to pay; their friends and even I insisted that woman was taking advantage of them, but they didn’t listen, because they still hoped they could find him. And in the end… in the end they did.”

Even though most of them have a maximum distance beyond which their ability stops working, Hounds can, at least theoretically, perceive the presence of another person in any part of the world. Whether their target is still or moving, in a building or out in the open, on ground level or at the fiftieth floor of a skyscraper or deep down in an iron mine, they will be found. You personally helped find the crew of a submarine that had lost contact with the base, and Belle-mère told you she once tracked a child that his father had kidnapped and was taking out of the country by plane.

You can even track dead people, even if that requires some training; what you need is there to be a person as such, and not just an amputated arm or foot, and that, sadly, is the reason why the Hounds hadn’t been able to find Shanks’ friend.

“He had… he had been dismembered, and then his pieces tossed on the bottom of a lake, in a bag with a heavy rock attached so that it wouldn’t return to the surface. Some divers were doing I don’t know what research about the lake’s flora, and they found it. I insisted on going with Buggy’s parents to the morgue, to see th - to see him, and… oh, my God, it was like the pieces of a puzzle, only that it wasn’t paperboard, it was the flesh and bones of my friend…”

Of all the dramatic, gruesome and violent cases you have learnt about during your collaboration with the Police -Garp always did his best to keep you in the dark, convinced as he was that you were too young to witness the atrocities he was by now more than familiar with, while Belle-mère had a higher opinion of your nerves and often discussed her cases with you, in the interest of your training- none has ever been more inhuman, violent and unnecessarily cruel than the scene Shanks is describing; for months he and Buggy’s parents had hoped to see him return, to then be informed he had died, his poor body dismembered to make sure the Hounds could not find him and, as a consequence, his kidnappers.

He was only twelve; still a child. You don’t even want to know what those people did to him…

“I’m so sorry.” you murmur, well aware of how empty those words sound no matter how intensely you mean it, and Shanks finally turns to look at you.

“It gets worse. The Hound, that… that bitch… she disappeared the day Buggy was found, no doubt because she expected Buggy’s parents to realise she had lied to them and tricked them out of all their money. The Police might have caught her, but Buggy’s parents never even sued her; the day after Buggy’s funeral they… they committed suicide; they took pills, and died together on their bed. I went to their home a few hours later, I thought Buggy would have wanted me to keep them company, and… and I found them. I called an ambulance, but it was already too late. They didn’t leave a note or anything, but it was clear: they had stayed strong until they still had hope Buggy was alive, but they had no reason to keep living without him. A whole family destroyed… and a woman who had gotten rich preying on their vulnerability. I can’t help but wonder… if that day I had gone to school, if I had been with him as he returned home…”

“Shanks, no. It wasn’t your fault, how could you have known?”

He admits that obviously you’re right, and looks up at you, pain and guilt clear in his eyes. “I was wrong to say those things; I was wrong to even just think them, but I can’t help it.” he recognises, voice lowered to a whisper “I was in the force, I know many Hounds generously offer their help, that your powers are real and you have helped hundreds of people; but I can’t stop thinking about that woman, of how she took advantage of the pain and fear of Buggy’s parents to rob them. I would have gladly killed her with my own hands, and I was still a child back then, but I should know better now that I'm an adult; there are rotten apples in every category of people, and you have no fault for the crimes of those like you. I’m sorry, (name).”

“I could never be angry with you; especially now that I know the reason for your resentment; you hated that woman so much, you can’t help despising all those like her as well.”

“Exactly. Very mature of me, isn’t it?”

You opt not to answer, preferring to take the face of the man in front of you in your hands, your heart full of anguish; with a sigh, Shanks rests his forehead against yours, and for a minute you remain like that, sharing your space, Shanks slowly coming to terms with that pain that is still part of him, so many years after the fact, and you doing what you can to comfort him. “I’m sorry.” you murmur once more, and he grins before kissing your brow.

“At least I know you’re different. And had I known Hounds can be this sexy, I would have asked Garp to let me work with you.”

“But relationships among agents, and their collaborators, are strictly forbidden.”

“It’s lucky that neither of us works with the force anymore then…”

Shanks winks at you as he starts the engine once more; he’s pulling himself together, determined to do whatever it takes to stop Luffy from meeting the same destiny of Buggy. “Do you know what percentage of the way we have covered already?”

“I’m not sure.” you admit “It doesn’t work like a car navigator, I can’t say how many miles or minutes away we are; I only know we’re in the right direction, and that Luffy is alive and that he’s standing still - not literally, but as if he were moving inside a building or a very restricted area. I’m sorry, I wish I could be more precise.”

“It’s alright; at least you’ve only given me good news, again.”

You share a smile, the car’s engine roars under you, and you’re back on the road.

You stop again two hours later, to grab a bite at a service station; you insist on paying, since Shanks has gone to get gas. “Ah, if only they had hamburgers!” you comment with a sigh as you observe the menu behind the counter, and the man by your side bites his lip to hide a smile, a slight flush complimenting the red hair hidden under his straw hat.

You depart again with two to-go cups, one of coffee and the other of tea, in the cupholder; the conversation between you and Shanks is pleasant and relaxed, and you both sing along with the radio, but the longer your journey lasts, the closer you come to your destination, you both feel yourself growing tense. It would be a relief to find out Luffy is fine, that he simply ran away from home after a fight with his parents, somehow crossing most of the country by himself without anyone wondering why a nine-year-old is walking around alone, and who will obediently let you bring him back, to his room and toys and favourite breakfast, but if this doesn’t happen… if the child were to be in danger, or if there were a more serious reason for his disappearance, then it’d be up to the two of you to decide what to do, in his best interest. As he promised, Shanks has his gun with him, hidden in its holster under his leather jacket; you know, without the need to ask, that he’ll do whatever it takes to protect you and Luffy, but you really hope it won’t come to that.

“He’s moving.” you announce suddenly, after two more hours on the road; you have reached a more remote part of the country, large expanses of countryside punctuated with small towns, farms and cultivated fields, and Shanks is telling you about his fathers when suddenly you feel -not hear, not smell, not touch; you feel- something shift, as if the needle of the compass inside you had moved of a few degrees on the side.

“You mean Luffy?” Shanks asks, immediately tense “They’re moving him?”

“Not in the sense that his captors have put him in a car to hide him somewhere else; at least I think, It’s more of a sensation than something I’m seeing or hearing.” you try to explain; you have often reflected than being a Hound is like speaking a language only a handful of other people know, which makes it enormously harder to talk to laymen “He’s walking, very slowly, but I don’t know if it’s because he’s simply taking a walk or because he’s hurt and can’t run. God, I hope he’s not struggling to get away… in any case we’re close.”

“Alright, then…”

“Are you sure?”

“I am now. I can’t say how close, but… it’s not long before you reach him.”

You see tension enveloping Shanks’ shoulders. “Put your seatbelt on.” he warns you; he steps on the gas, and the car surges ahead, devouring the asphalt.

Shimotsuki Town is actually barely a village surrounded by sprawling rice fields, a couple dozens of houses gathered around a tiny square, the sort of place no one living twenty miles away has ever heard of; there are no museums or restaurants or relevant companies in the area, nothing of importance… except for one thing.

“Are you sure he’s here?” Shanks asks. You have left the car in the fields surrounding the town, after which you have led him for a short distance along the main street, the impulse in your mind more and more intense with every step you take; the whisper, subtle but persistent, that you have followed on the way is now a shout, loud and impossible to ignore.

You have found Luffy; he’s alive, thanks to Belle-mère’s training you are absolutely sure, but you have no way of knowing what conditions he’s in, physically and mentally both, and part of you is too afraid to know…

“I am; either in the building or in the back, but we’re… I don’t know, twenty feet from him at most.” you answer confidently “Whatever here is.”

The door of the old-style building in front of you is surmounted by a banner: Isshin Dojo it says.

“Dojo is a type of martial arts school, a place where you learn to fight either bare-handed or with weapons.” Shanks explains, having noticed the perplexity of your expression.

“How do you know?”

“Well, I studied swordsmanship when I was younger; not in the style of the dojos, but I saw a couple of places like this.”

“You can use a sword!? That is amazing!” you exclaim, not bothering to hide your awe, and Shanks smiles, clearly flattered.

“Both my dads could, so it was natural for me to learn; I am sort of ambidextrous, but to be honest I have never touched my sword after the accident. Truth to be told I have missed it…”

“Then you should start again.” you comment; a pause, and then: “And then you can teach me.”

“I’d like that.”

Shanks smiles, and you do your best to reciprocate, even though anxiety is eating you alive; you’ve felt more and more nervous the closer you got to your destination, and now part of you wishes you could simply leave, abandoning Luffy to his destiny and taking no responsibility regarding his well-being. You can’t, of course, but you can’t help…

“You’re shivering.” Shanks murmurs; the longer you remain still in front of the Dojo the more you risk Luffy’s captors, if they really are here, to see you, realise you’re looking for the child and take him away, but the man next to you seems unconcerned for a moment - unconcerned for anything and anyone who is not you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing; he’s here, I could bet my life on it, just… I’m scared. He’s just a child, what if something terrible happened and we weren’t here to stop it?”

Shanks softly points out that it would be terrible to discover it’s too late to help Luffy, but it wouldn’t be your fault; he has his gun, and this wouldn’t be the first time he needs to use it on the job, and he’s going to do whatever it takes to protect the child.

“It’s going to be alright.” he promises, and while you’re not fully reassured the conviction in those words does make you feel better, enough to make you smile, enough to make you decide to throw caution to the wind and press your mouth on Shanks’ for a kiss, ardent and hungry and desperate, a kiss the man in front of you quickly reciprocates, holding you by the waist as his mouth ravishes yours.

“God, you’re amazing.” he murmurs in the end, without fully breaking the kiss, the straw hat he’s wearing once again almost toppled over in the excitement “Absolutely gorgeous, and you smell so good…”

You giggle. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“I really don’t; and I could prove you how sincere I’m being if you came… fuck!”

The expletive, unexpected enough to make you jump, is due to Shanks’ phone, which has just started ringing in the pocket of his jacket, interrupting you for the second time.

“Is that Garp?” you ask, anxious once again; Shanks takes a look at the screen and shakes his head.

“My partner.” he explains as he accepts the call “Beck? Tell me you have good news.”

“I’m not sure they’re good but sure they are interesting.” his partner comments, and Shanks tenses; he’s known, and worked with, Beckman long enough to know that in his vocabulary interesting actually means shocking. Luffy’s story was not simple and crystal-clear as it appeared to be; there is something fishy behind it, as both he and (name) thought.

“I’ll put you on speaker.” he says, and (name) approaches, as serious as he is “Tell us.”

“First thing I wanted to know was whether a child as young as Luffy could have had a reason to run away from home, or if his parents have enemies of some kind, and at first I found nothing; kid goes to school, mom and dad are a doctor and a bank teller, normal people with a mortgage. Very normal.”

“Too normal.”

“You know it. I dug deeper, and I did find something: Luffy was adopted four years ago.”

“What if his real parents…?” (name) whispers, and Shanks nods; he had the same thought, and this wouldn’t be the first time a relative, desperate for a connection to a child they feel they have lost, resort to extreme measures to have them for themselves.

“I don’t think they have something to do with it; or he does, since the mom died. Dad is in jail. But there’s something else, and Shanks, this is very…”

“Interesting?” the younger man can’t help but joke; he can almost see his partner, sitting with his feet on the desk, a cigarette as usual on his lips.

“You tell me. The files are classified, since Luffy’s a minor, but I knew where to look. It turns out that when Luffy was adopted, there was a person who tried gaining custody of the child, even though the judge refused, but was allowed to still be part of Luffy’s life, visiting on the week-ends, a week in the summer and so on.”

It is nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary for an adopted child, but Shanks’s heart is pounding; (name) is clinging to his arm, having equally perceived the revelation will be earth-shattering… and not in a good way.

“Who is it?” he asks, already steering himself; he has no reason to suspect this person is involved in Luffy’s disappearance -yet- but… “Who is this person, Beck?”

His partner hesitates, as if the information had affected him as well - a rare occurrence, for Benn Beckman. “It’s Luffy’s grandfather.” he says in the end, his voice mortally serious “Your old commander, Monkey D. Garp.”

“What do you want?”

It’s a child who opens the door of the Dojo, almost five minutes after he and (name) have started knocking on it, and Shanks’ heart leaps - only for a moment, before he realises this child, who is wearing a gi, might be Luffy’s age but looks nothing like him.

They both stare at him for a moment, flabbergasted, but when the child moves to close the door Shanks leaves (name)’s hand to use his to stop him. “Wait.”

“We’re not buying anything.”

“That’s a good thing, because we’re not selling. What’s your name?”

The child looks at him, resentful and too young to successfully hide how scared he is.

“Zoro.” he mumbles in the end, having accepted that the two strangers won’t leave “Roronoa Zoro.”

“Alright, Roronoa Zoro. I’m Shanks, this is (name), and we won’t cause any problem, I promise. Can we talk to your parents?”

“I don’t have those; I live here with my sensei, but he’s out for the day.”

Shanks and (name) share a glance; talking to a child without an adult present is often a source of trouble, not to mention they’re often even less reliable than the average witness, but they can’t afford to be selective.

“Zoro, listen, we’re here for a very important matter.” (name) intervenes, crouching to meet the child’s eyes, who returns the gaze, diffident. Zoro can’t be more than nine but he’s tall for his age, his hair the same green hue of his gi, with the ramrod straight posture so common among swordsmen “We’re looking for a child who we think might be in trouble; his name is Luffy, he’s about your age, he has black hair. He disappeared from his home and his mom and dad are very worried about him.”

“There’s no one with that name here; and I know all the students of the dojo. You sure you got the right address?”

Shanks meets (name)’s eyes, and he sees her nod; Luffy is still there, and while he might have hidden himself somewhere inside or around the dojo without Zoro knowing, Shanks is ready to bet the child knows something.

“You need to leave; the dojo is closed for the day, and the sensei told me not to let strangers in.” Zoro warns them; Shanks notices there is a sword hanging from his belt, the child’s hand closed around the hilt. Then his curiosity gets the best of him: “You guys are Police?”

“No.”

“Then why are you looking for a person who disappeared?”

It’s a very good question, that Shanks keeps mulling over while he thanks Zoro for his help and then turns to leave, (name) following silently; they are both aware of the green-haired child’s eyes following them.

They call Luffy’s name as they cross the rice fields behind the dojo; the azure of the sky is starting to turn red, the approaching night swallowing the light of the day. Whether they find the child or not, Shanks thinks, they’ll have to find a hostel or some other place, if they don’t want to spend the night in the car.

“He’s still in there.”

“I know; but I didn’t want to insist too much with a child, we better wait for his sensei to return.” Shanks suggests; he takes (name)’s hand in his once more, his heart fluttering when he sees a happy smile blossom on the woman’s lips; he didn’t lie, she is gorgeous, and a child’s life and safety is at stake, he can’t and mustn’t focus on anything else, but as soon as this matter is closed, hopefully for the best, he’ll make sure (name) forgets any other man she’s ever been with “Let’s have a look around, shall we?”

“Can you feel anything?”

“Nothing; I know he’s close, within perhaps a couple minutes walk, and that he’s standing still, but I can’t narrow it down any further.” (name) explains with a sigh “I’m sorry I can’t be of any help.”

“We will; I’m sure of it.” Shanks promises as they approach a row of trees, the fields empty save for them; the truth is he doesn’t know, he’s tired after so many hours spent driving and even (name)’s powers won’t stop Luffy from slipping away and disappear, but he’s not ready to throw in the towel, not with the child’s life potentially still hanging in the balance “Maybe we’ll even convince Zoro to help us; that boy knows something.”

“Are you joking? (name), we’re halfway across the country, no one would have thought to look for Luffy here! I wouldn’t have known where to start without you; I know we haven’t found him yet, but I really appreciate your help.”

The woman smiles, flattered. “It was a pleasure; I mean… I had missed being a Hound; I was scared to do it again, after what happened to Makino, but it was an important part of my life, and I feel better now that I’m doing it again. I just hope we can find him.”

“I think so as well; even though I’d be curious to know how he and Luffy met, since they lived so far apart. Shanks… why do you think Garp didn’t tell us Luffy is his grandson?”

That is the million berry question, and Shanks still doesn’t know what to think: Garp could have his reasons, but if he kept them in the dark regarding that, what else is the older man hiding? Could Luffy have decided to run away from home not after a fight with his adoptive parents but because of something that concerned his grandfather? Did Garp task them with finding his grandson because he didn’t want his colleagues to stick their nose in a private matter -a superfluous concern, since the safety of a child was at stake- or is there something more, something else he and (name) have been kept unaware of? Is Luffy in danger?

Are they?

“I don’t know what to think.” Shank sighs “I’ve worked with Garp for three years, we were not friends but I trusted him; that he might be involved with the abduction of a child is… monstrous. Maybe I’m wrong and he’s simply a grandfather worried sick, but…”

“I really hope so; I didn’t even know he had had a child! Maybe it has to do with his job? Someone he helped put behind bars and who now wants to get back at him kidnapping Luffy?” (name) suggests; Shanks opens his mouth to answer, but he doesn’t have the time to. Above his head, a branch snaps… (name) screams… and he’s knocked on the ground.

“Shit…!”

“LUFFY!”

“Shoot!” he screams, scrambling to his feet, and Shanks, felled by the child’s body that plummeted down on him, reflects once more that it’s not easy to quickly get up on your feet when you only have an arm to push yourself off the ground. And Luffy, a red shirt and jean shorts on, is running like the wind, taking advantage of the two adults’ astonishment to get away.

“Get him! (name)!” Shanks cries, unnecessarily because the woman has already dashed after the child, her longer stride quickly covering the distance; she grabs him, locking her arms under Luffy’s armpits, and holds him tight, no matter how desperately the child tries to wriggle free.

“Put me down! Let me go, or I’ll show you!”

“Luffy, it’s alright… we’re friends, we just want to…”

“You want to bring me back, don’t you? Well, I’m not going!”

In the end Shanks is able to heave himself on his feet; his back hurts where the child fell on it, but he shouldn’t have broken anything, including the arm he instinctively used to protect his face as he crashed to the ground. Still gasping, he sees the woman try to calm and reassure the child, and he’s about to offer his help when a gelid kiss touches the side of his neck, a sensation Shanks hasn’t felt for more than a year but that he recognises thanks to the many years he spent training with his fathers…

“Tell her to let him go. Now.”

He turns slowly, mindful of the blade; it could slit his throat if only he, or his assailant, made a wrong move, but Shanks is not afraid, not when he realises that Zoro, for all the determination in his eyes and excellent posture in holding the sword, looks terrified.

“Put that down, son; you could get hurt.”

“I’m not your son.” the child answers; the appellative seems to have hit a nerve, the tight grip of his hands on the hilt of the sword betraying his anxiety “And you’ll be the one who gets hurt, if you don’t tell your friend to let Luffy go.”

“We just want to help him.”

“Like hell you do. What will you do to him? Did his grandfather send…?”

Shanks acts quickly, taking advantage of the child’s momentary distraction for a feint Rayleigh taught him; a sudden movement, and Zoro’s sword is now in his hand.

“This is an excellent sword.” Shanks says, his tone friendly, as he admires the weapon, while Luffy has stopped squirming in (name)’s arms “And I admire the fact you wanted to protect your friend; but the last thing I want is to hurt him, Zoro, or you. You have my word.”

The child looks at him, wary and embarrassed; Shanks looks at (name), who silently nods and releases Luffy. The child, who could now run away, remains where he is, looking at Shanks with what he could only describe as fascination.

“How did you do that? Zoro is very strong.”

“I’m sure he is; I have just been handling swords a little longer than he has.”

Zoro grunts.

“What happened to your arm?”

“I lost it in an accident.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Only when it rains.”

“Can you still feel it even though you no longer have it?”

“I actually can, sometimes. Luffy…” Shanks returns the sword to Zoro, who begrudgingly accepts it, and crouches to be at eye level with him “(name) and I have a few questions for you.”

“You’re angry because I ran away from home.”

“We’re not angry; we were only very worried, just like your mom and dad are.”

The child’s expression turns dejected; he suddenly looks even smaller than his young age and short stature can account for. “They’re not my mom and dad; they are taking care of me because my grandfather gives them money to do it.”

A moment later (name) is kneeling beside the child, her hand on his shoulder. “Luffy, those people… do they hurt you? I mean…”

“No, no; they give me food and buy me things for school and everything, but… but they don’t care about me. It’s like a job; you do it because you have to, and because you get paid for it.” the child explains miserably; he bites his lip, and then, his voice reduced to a whisper: “And then they force me to spend time with my gramps.”

Shanks’ eyes meet (name)’s above the child’s head; suddenly they’re both too scared to ask.

“Luffy, about your grandfather…”

“The old man hits him.” Zoro intervenes; Luffy gasps.

“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

“Is this true, Luffy?” Shanks asks; the child looks at him, both unwilling to trust him -why? How many times have adults let him down already? How many doctors and social workers and teachers have looked the other way, or not bothered to follow their suspicions, on top of the adoptive parents who treated the child in their care with the same emotional attachment of the floors to mop or the bedding to change? How deep must Luffy’s desperation and disappointment have become, for the child to decide to run away?- and desperately wishing he could. Shanks has never been in a situation like his, but he might have, if his dads had not intervened, and maybe it’s because of this that he sees himself reflected in the child’s bright eyes.

“Don’t make me go back.” Luffy murmurs “Please.”

“I won’t. You have my word, you won’t have to go back if you don’t want to.”

It’s a promise Shanks can’t afford to make and he knows it, but he doesn’t regret it, not when he sees the child’s eyes fill with tears - not of pain or anger, but of relief.

“It’s alright, Luffy.” he murmurs gently “You’re safe. Your grandfather will no longer hurt you.”

A moment later Luffy’s crying fills the air; the child has thrown his arms around Shanks’ neck, his body so small and fragile in the man’s arm. Shanks can’t remember the last time he has been close to a child this young, or that he was responsible for comforting one; nevertheless, he must be doing a decent job, because within a couple of minutes the child’s sobs subside. Luffy looks up at him, and Shanks expects him to ask what will become of him, but a moment later the child has taken his straw hat from his head to decisively depose it on his own.

“You like it? My dad gave it to me, it’s my greatest treasure.”

“This is so cool!”

Shanks smiles; besides the relief to discover the child is safe and not kept prisoner, deciding what to do with him and ensuring his safety will be no small matter, but the last thing Shanks feels is regret for having been involved in that mess. He looks up at (name), now standing with her arm draped around Zoro -who is also crying silently, his face hidden against the woman’s side- and she smiles, nodding slightly. In that smile there is understanding and courage, and no matter how desperately he wishes he could have Garp in front of him to strangle him, Shanks is happy the older man decided to involve (name) - for Luffy’s sake and his as well.

With Zoro’s permission, (name) has prepared some tea for them all in the kitchen of the apartment above the dojo, where the child lives with his sensei. It’s there, while the four sit in front of a small table, that Luffy, perfectly at ease in Shanks’ lap, tells them his story.

That commander Garp, a man well-known and respected for his integrity and righteousness might also be a child abuser, is something both Shanks and (name), who have known and worked with him for years, would have never believed, but that is the sad truth.

Garp is Luffy’s paternal grandfather; he tried gaining custody of the child when his son went to prison two years ago, and when the judge refused, on account of his age, unmarried state and dangerous job, Garp has paid a couple to adopt the child and makes sure to visit often, even more often than the visitation rights afford him… and takes advantage of that time alone to train his grandson.

“He hits me.” Luffy explains matter-of-factly as he lifts his shirt to show the bruises that litter his delicate skin; his chest and tummy, his arms, his back… his little body is covered in them, even though the bastard has been careful to only hit the child where his clothes would cover the signs “He says he does it for my good, that he wants me to become strong. He wants me to join the Police like him, but I’m going to be a pirate, and once I told him and he told my parents to keep me in my room without food for two days.”

It was Zoro who saved him. The child followed his sensei to Foosha City for a course the man had to teach in a fencing school, they moved into an hotel close to Luffy’s home, and the two children became friends, the bond deep enough for Luffy to confide his grandfather’s mistreatment, and for Zoro to decide to help.

When Zoro and his sensei departed from Foosha City, Luffy went with them, hidden in the car’s trunk; he had snuck out of his room taking advantage of his parents’ deep sleep, and he remained there until the end of the trip. Then, Zoro helped him hide in the Dojo’s spare room, bringing him a blanket and candles and food - a lot of food. Undoubtedly ingenious, especially for two children who together are barely old enough to vote. How long they thought they could get away with it, it’s anybody’s guess; but the beauty of being children is that they live in the present, while it’s up to the adults to assure them a future.

“A pirate? Is that your dream?” Shanks asks, amused, holding the child against his body; he dreamt the same when he was that age.

“Hmm-hmm; pirates are free, that is the best thing in the world! I’m the captain, because I’m the strongest, my punch is like a pistol, and Zoro is my first mate, and he’s also gonna be the world’s strongest swordsman…”

It’s good to see the child so calm and serene. Shanks, in turn, is all too aware of the trouble he and (name) have on their hands; they have to find a solution - fast, too, before Zoro’s sensei returns and asks who the three strangers in his house are.

Once more, their eyes meet above the child’ head; she nods in the direction of the door.

“Luffy, you and Zoro remain here, alright?” he asks gently as the child turns to look at him “We’ll be back soon.”

“Alright; we’ll watch cartoons.”

The two adults remain silent as they leave the room, closing the slide door behind them, and walk to the other side of the corridor, making sure Luffy can’t hear them and, at the same time, keeping an eye on the room in case the child decides to run away again.

“What do we do?” (name) asks, anguish filling her voice “We can’t bring him back to Garp! But he’s going to look for Luffy, and…”

Shanks nods, well aware of how hard it’s going to be. Returning Luffy to his abusive grandfather is out of the question, but Shanks knows well how stubborn and relentless the older man can be; there is no place in the world where Luffy would be safe, as long as his grandfather is still looking for him. The child deserves peace and serenity, to go to school and have friends and play, not to spend the next decade -or until Garp dies, which could be even longer- locked up at home, fearing to find himself face to face with his grandfather every time he looks out of the window.

Going to the Police would be counterproductive to put it mildly, for obvious reasons. What can they do? How can they be sure this child has the life he deserves, or at least some of it?

“Garp is the problem.” Shanks summarises, his closed fist under his hand “If he were to disappear, Luffy would have nothing to fear.”

“You’re thinking…?”

“I am.”

(name) sighs; she doesn’t immediately object, which is at the same time sad and comforting.

“I don’t want it to come to that.” she murmurs “I mean, i could hide him, but…”

Shanks looks at her. “Hide him? How?”

For a moment (name) seems to regret having spoken; then she shrugs. “I know you’ll keep this for yourself.” she says easily, as if she really trusted him, as if they hadn’t met barely twenty-four hours ago, and it’s not naivety or lack of understanding, it’s something deeper and more precious and damn, Shanks is this close to falling to his knees and asking for her hand “The fact is… we Hounds are usually asked to find people, but we’re also capable of hiding them; it’s more complicated, something you have to learn and practice rather than being naturally able to do it, but Belle-mère taught me. It’s a secret among us, that we mainly keep for ourselves; we’re able to… well, to make a person invisible, not in the sense that you can see through them or anything, we just make them harder to notice, you know?”

“You mean… as if they were there, but you couldn’t realise? The way you sometimes don’t notice a person has entered the room until they tap you on the shoulder?”

“Exactly; if I did this, Garp wouldn’t even see Luffy if he crossed the road in front of him, or sat across from him on the bus. He’d be safe… but Garp is still his grandfather, he is legally allowed to spend time with him, and Luffy deserves better than a life spent on the run.”

Shanks agrees; (name)’s solution would work if Luffy was a criminal on the run from the police, or a battered wife who had to avoid running into her abusive husband, but he is neither, the child will sooner or later have to return to his adoptive parents, and Garp will simply have to present himself to their door to demand his grandson for the time the judge has granted him. They could denounce Garp, show someone in charge the bruises on the child’s body and have him explain his grandfather is responsible, but Garp has friends in high places, how can they be sure their complaint will serve its purpose?

“He can’t stay here, hidden; but if we take him away with us, Garp could have us charged with child abduction.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I don’t either.” Shanks admits. He doesn’t particularly relish the thought of ending up behind bars, where he could end up sharing a cell with a few criminals he helped arrest, not to mention he wouldn’t be able to take (name) out since they’d be serving time in different facilities, but taking care of Luffy takes precedence “But we need to decide what to do before taking him away; sooner or later Garp will want to know where we are, and our families…”

According to Zoro, his sensei will be back in less than an hour. Shanks and (name) decide that no matter how dangerous it is, they have to take Luffy away; they’ll find a safe place, sleep in the car, and tomorrow morning, with a clear head, they’ll decide what to do.

Neither mentions how unreasonably optimistic that plan sounds; they hold each other for a moment, gathering strength from each other, and then go back to the children, who both look crestfallen at the thought of being separated.

“You can’t tell anyone about this.” Shanks tells Zoro. Normally he would feel guilty, not to mention nervous, at the thought of entrusting such an important secret to a child, but Zoro is clearly made of sterner stuff than most of his peers, and when the child nods in response, promising he’ll take the truth to his grave, Shanks knows he can trust him “About us, and about Luffy; forget you ever met him, and if someone asks, deny everything.”

“I will.” Zoro promises; he bites his lip, and “So we’ll never meet again? Never for the rest of our lives?”

The thought is clearly heartbreaking, no matter how short their acquaintance has been. Shanks remembers how it was at that age, how quickly and easily you could fall in friendship with another person and forge bonds that you felt would last for the rest of your life, and sometimes they did. He and Buggy were the same.

“I don’t know, really.” he confesses; he’s kneeling, his hand resting on Zoro’s shoulder “We don’t know what we’ll do; we need to keep Luffy safe, which might mean taking him far from here, but as soon as it’s safe we’ll call you. I really hope you kids can meet again, Zoro; you’re a good child.”

Zoro accepts the compliment with a shrug of his shoulders. “When we meet again, can you teach me that feint you did before?” he asks “That was very cool.”

“Of course.”

Zoro is too young to have a phone, but Shanks has the child learn his - by heart, in order not to leave a potentially incriminating business card with him. In the meantime, (name) has helped Luffy remove all traces of his passage in the house, and retrieve his backpack; it’s almost empty, because most of what the child brought with him from home was food.

“Where are we going?” he asks, sunny and relaxed as if Shanks and (name) were taking him on a day trip; neither of the adults has the heart to ruin his mood.

“We’ll keep you safe from your grandfather, Luffy; I promise.” Shanks says, and the child stares at him for a moment, as if testing his resolve and sincerity, and then nods, slipping his tiny hand in Shanks’.

Zoro insists on walking them to the car; they leave the dojo together, Luffy still holding Shanks’ hand, and the moon is already high in the sky as they walk, crossing the fields outside the village. No one speaks, both adults and children aware of the danger they’re facing, especially the youngest member of their little group; the night is warm and clear, the song of the cicada rising from the vegetation surrounding them. A beautiful night, Shanks thinks; if only they didn’t have to spend it running from an abusive grandfather who has forced them to practically kidnap his grandson to protect him, it’d be a really amazing one.

“Alright, here we are.” (name) says when they finally reach the car; while tired she’s smiling, no doubt in an effort to cheer the children up “You need to say good-bye now; it’s going to be an adventure, we’ll have to sleep in the car but…”

“He won’t. He will be coming with me.”

It’s like their worst fears have evoked him. Garp, until now hidden in the shadows cast by the trees, walks unhurriedly towards them, the gun in his hand raised and pointed towards the foursome; he smiles when he sees Luffy who, in turn, screams into the hand he has quickly slapped on his mouth. Zoro, who easily recognises the man even though they’ve never met, grabs the hilt of his sword; (name), white in the face, pushes the two children behind her. Shanks…

Shanks has never felt so stupid in all his life. The old man played them like a fiddle, and he had no idea.

For a whole minute no one speaks; he can feel (name)’s laboured breathing behind him, but he forces himself to remain lucid, because not to boast, because he really isn’t, but he is their only hope of survival and the last thing he can afford to do is lower his guard.

“This has been your plan all along, hasn’t it?” he asks in the end, his voice even “You have used us to get to the child.”

“I have.” Garp admits, or maybe he doesn’t, because admission implies a certain level of reticence, shame or even guilt, and the man clearly feels none of them “I’ve been tracking your phones since this morning; child’s play, when you’re in my position. Luffy, come here.”

“No!” the child screams, he and Zoro holding each other tight, and “No!” (name) exclaims at the same time, outraged; she seems ready to jump on Garp to kill him with her own hands “You won’t be lying another finger on him!”

For a moment there is sincere regret on Garp’s face. “I’m just trying to protect him.” he explains softly; he’s still looking at Luffy, but his gun is trained on Shanks’ forehead “And to prepare him for when he’ll be an adult. I was too soft on his father, too afraid he would hate me if I were too strict, and look where he is now; I won’t make the same mistake again. This is not a kind world we live in; he needs to be strong, to face whatever danger…”

“He’s my grandson; I am responsible for him.”

“The hell you are! We’ve seen the bruises, he’s covered in them. God, commander, how could you?!”

(name)’s scream fills the air around them. “You beat the crap out of a child! What do you expect, an invading army kidnapping him from the schoolyard? You’re insane - you’re a monster! You won’t…!”

Garp shoots. Luffy screams. Shanks feels the bullet fly no more than three inches away from his left ear before it hits the trunk of a tree behind him; that wasn’t a miss, it was a warning, and his old commander is not the sort of man who likes to repeat himself.

“Who’s the other kid?” he asks, sincerely curious for a moment.

Zoro doesn’t answer; he lifts his free hand to show his middle finger to the older man, who sighs. “I see; another brat who needs straightening. Luffy, come here.”

“Luffy, don’t move.” Shanks says; neither man has raised his voice.

“Luffy, if you’re not here next to me within ten seconds, I’ll shoot them all, including your little friend. You know I’m not joking.”

Luffy clearly knows -and is it not disheartening, a child this young well aware that his grandfather would not hesitate before killing three people, including another child?- because he starts walking slowly towards Garp, ignoring both Zoro and (name) who try to stop him. Shanks doesn’t look at him when the child walks past him. “Nuts.” he simply says, and a moment later Luffy is next to his grandfather, the man’s heavy hand on his shoulder, deceptively gentle.

“You had me worried, you know, son? I thought something terrible had happened to you.”

Silence.

“Do you want me to discipline you in front of your friends?”

“No, sir.” Luffy mutters, eyes downcast “I’m sorry, sir.”

“That’s better. We’ll talk some more when we’re home, I’m sure you know what awaits you. Now…”

Shanks wishes he could say he’s surprised when Garp cocks the gun and points it at him once more. “You always intended to kill us, didn’t you?” he asks “You can’t leave witnesses.”

Garp doesn’t smile. “I always thought you were a clever man. Now, on your knees; (name), you and the boy too. I’m sorry, I really am; you know how fond I’ve always been of you, but I can’t let you go talk about this.”

Shanks can almost feel (name) seething behind him, but when Zoro tries to unsheathe his sword to fight Garp, she stops him and forces him to kneel next to her. “Let him go at least.” she says, defiant even though she’s begging, hate and contempt evident in her eyes; although terrified, she’s trying to be strong for Luffy and Zoro and Shanks, who has cautiously turned his head to look at her, knows he’s lost already “He’s only a child, he will keep his mouth shut…”

“Like hell I will! Let me at him, I’ll cut his head off…”

Garp does not budge; Zoro keeps threatening him; (name) tries to restrain him, showing nothing of the fear she feels. Shanks… Shanks looks at the child in front of him, who has voluntarily surrendered himself to pain and abuse to save three people he has known for less than two days.

God, and Garp thinks he can teach his grandson to be a man?

“Luffy.” he says, smiling at the boy “Didn’t you say your punch is as strong as a pistol?”

There is confusion in the child’s bright eyes; then there’s realisation, and even joy, as he lifts his fist, turns, and hits his grandfather in the only place he can reach given his small stature.

Garp’s scream of pain is excruciating, and highly satisfying.

“Run!” Shanks cries, as he already reaches for the gun under his jacket, and Luffy doesn’t need to be told twice, but Garp’s distraction only lasts for a moment, and then he shoots, missing Shanks’ head by only an inch this time, and he has no time to thanks his lucky stars because suddenly (name) is crying in pain behind him, Luffy and Zoro desperately trying to stop the blood pouring out of her wound.

The blood. Her blood. She’s bleeding, she’s hurt, and the fault is only his.

Garp is preparing to shoot again, but he doesn’t have the time: Shanks draws his gun and fires two shots, hitting the older man in the forehead.

Luffy screams. For a moment, despite the relative darkness, Shanks could swear he’s seeing Garp look up to contemplate the hole above his hairline. Then the heavy body is falling forward, and Shanks doesn’t bother checking for a pulse; he’s been in the force long enough to know his bullets have passed through the man’s cranium. He turns and runs to (name), falling to his knees in front of her. “Hey, hey…”

“He shot me.” the woman whispers; she’s in shock, shaking, cradling her right arm to her chest, blood falling on her clothes, on the ground, everywhere “It hurts, Shanks, it hurts so much…”

Inside him Shanks is screaming, but he remains calm as he places the gun safely on the ground; he needs to call an ambulance, and the Police, but first of all he has to take care of her, of them, he wants to, he needs to…

“It’s alright.” he murmurs as he rests his hand on her cheek; he meets her eyes, and he holds her against his chest, while Luffy’s tiny body presses against his, shaken by sobs, and Zoro is crying as he tries to support (name)’s weight since the woman looks ready to pass out “(name), darling, it’s alright, look at me…”

She does, and Shanks kisses her tears away before looking for something to stanch the blood.

Taking care of your appearance is not easy when you only have a working arm, but you’ve become quite adept in the last three weeks and so you feel quite proud of yourself as you observe your reflection in the mirror in your room, your hair and make-up on point. The cast on your right arm clashes a bit with your outfit, but still…

You spend a minute admiring yourself before the sound of a car horn draws your attention; as you look out of the window your gaze falls on Shanks, breath-takingly handsome as he leans against the side of his car, the straw hat as usual covering his red hair. He smiles at you, warm brown eyes filled with joy and excitement. “Ready?”

“Coming!”

You are out of the flat a minute later, your bag slung across your shoulders as you stuff your keys inside it; you don’t slow down until you have reached the sidewalk outside the complex, and you throw your good arm around Shanks’ neck, who laughs happily, his own arm quickly raising to circle your waist.

“Is all of this enthusiasm for me, or for the hamburgers we’ll eat tonight?” he jokes. After a couple days in which you have been both too busy with work to meet you finally have some time for yourselves; you’re going to the movies, and then Shanks has promised to take you out to dinner, not to one of the city’s best restaurants, but at the hamburger kiosk you have met at and that has quickly become your favourite spot.

“I’ve missed you, that’s all.” you reveal without embarrassment, and Shanks beams at you.

“I better make this evening worth it then…”

He presses his mouth on yours, soft but intense like all his kisses are, like everything he does is; your fingers play with the fabric of his shirt, your right arm resting awkwardly against your side, safe from accidental bumps. Shanks said the two of you form quite a pair now, you with your cast and him with his stump, but besides the fear and excruciating pain of that night and the unpleasantness of having to do everything with one hand, you don’t mind it too much: better your arm than Shanks’ head - or Luffy’s.

He did ask you to start working with his agency, a week ago, which you sort of expected; Hounds can be very helpful for those in his line of work, but you told him you’ll have to think about it. After all Shanks and his partner are paid for finding missing people, they can’t simply dismiss their client if they realise their target is in the same situation as Makino was, and you can’t have another life on your conscience. Of course, he told you gently; you were walking back home after a medical checkup, and Shanks didn’t mind kissing you in a street full of people, the warmth of his mouth scorching and gentle at the same time, take all the time you need. Working with you would be great, but all I need is to have you by my side.

Good thing that’s exactly where you plan on remaining.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in a murmur after a couple minutes you have spent in each other’s arms; Shanks’ expression has turned serious, and he sighs as he rests his forehead against yours “Shanks? I thought you’d be happy…”

“I am; but I’m also terrified.” he admits “What if everything we did was for nothing? What if we made it worse for him?”

“Worse than being abused by his grandfather on a regular basis, and raised by people who only considered him a walking paycheck? I don’t think that’d be possible.”

“You know what I mean. The social worker said they’d take care of him, make sure he gets into a good family, but it might take time, and he’s already suffered so much…”

You softly point out that while you and Shanks weren’t allowed to meet Luffy while the Police investigated Garp’s death and his past abuse of the child, he seemed happy and serene when the social workers finally let you talk to him over the phone, and excited at the thought of meeting you again. “That child is young, but more resilient than you’d expect him to be; I’m sure he’ll be alright.”

Shanks manages to smile, but he doesn’t seem fully convinced, and reassured even less. You know he feels guilty, not so much for having killed his former commander -even though he admitted that hadn’t been pleasant, no matter how desperately he wanted to protect you and the children; he had never killed a man, and he would have preferred if his first victim hadn’t been a man he had once respected- but for having put you in danger, and for what could have happened to you, Zoro and Luffy.

“Even now that he has to live in an orphanage?”

“It’s not an orphanage, Shanks, it’s a group home; I looked into it, even spoken to the parents of a kid who’s been adopted from there years ago; it’s a good place, and I’m sure a child who has already gone through so much will be given special attention and care.”

It’s not your fault, you told him one night as you held him in your arms, his body cold and his mind far away despite the recent passion of your lovemaking still enveloping you, nothing of it is. Garp lured us in a trap, and I don’t regret a single moment of that day; I was not your responsibility, and my arm will heal. We are alright, Shanks, all of us; all thanks to you. You did everything you could and then some, and you deserve to forgive yourself.

He has started seeing a therapist, someone he knew already from his days in the force, and you pray this will help him heal, and that seeing Luffy also will; the law will not punish him for what he had to do, and both him and the child need to leave Garp’s shadow behind them, otherwise they will never be able to go on. Shanks recognised he was probably not in the right mindset to begin a new relationship, and the last thing you wanted was to force him, but you did begin dating, the instinctive and natural connection you formed that night at the kiosk having developed in something that is more than sexual, more than occasional, and that you both want to last; Shanks has told you that the hours you spend together are among the few precious moments he can forget what happened, and you’re determined to support him every step of the way and then some.

In the end you get in the car; Shanks drives carefully as usual, your hand on his thigh, your gazes meeting in a smile when a red light or a traffic jam forces you to stop. Your destination is just six blocks away, and you both breathe a sigh of relief when the group home Luffy has been living in for the last three weeks appears in front of you: a decent-sized building, more similar to a bed&breakfast than the ominous, derelict orphanages of the past. Someone inside is playing the piano; two kids older than Luffy are doing homework sitting at a garden table in the front yard, a line of rose bushes decorating the gate.

“Seems like a nice place.” Shanks comments, his hand firmly clasped in yours; you share a new smile, and a moment later the front door is violently open, and a child-sized cannonball erupts from the inside, advancing at full speed towards them.

“Shanks! (name)! You came!” Luffy screams, elated; he hugs Shanks’ leg, his smile radiant, and it’s returning that smile that Shanks kneels to look at the child in the face, a hand resting on his dark hair.

“How are you, Luffy?” he asks, the question much less obvious than it might seem. The child in front of him has, after all, witnessed his grandfather being killed, on top of all the abuses he suffered for years at the old man’s hands, events that he can’t simply leave behind and forget to easily begin a new life. But children can be stronger than adults give them credit for, the social worker has told you over the phone, and Luffy seems to have settled well in his new house, is able to discuss what he went through and only rarely has nightmares about Garp’s death. It’s like the shock of that night bounced right off him, as if the child were made of rubber, they said, and while you didn’t exactly see the need for a joke, given the serious topic you were discussing, you were happy to learn Luffy wasn’t once more suffering the consequences of his grandfather’s actions.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you? Really?” you ask, almost fearful to hear him contradict himself, but Luffy nods earnestly, as if you were the ones who needed reassuring - and perhaps you are.

“Yeah, I’m good. I have to speak to a theparist every monday and sometimes I have nightmares about my gramps, but it’s fine.”

“You know that Shanks had to… to do what he did, right?” you ask gently, and you feel the man next to you tense, as if he feared Luffy could actually reproach him for what he did. Luffy’s expression does grow sorrowful, and for a moment he looks even smaller than he actually is, as he clings to Shanks’ shoulders as if fearing to be swept away by the tide.

“I… I sometimes miss him, you know? My gramps.” he whispers, with the tone of someone who is confessing a particularly shameful secrets “Not everything he did to me, just… him. I think he did love me, even if he wasn’t good at showing it. And I know it wasn’t fair of him to treat me like that, and now I’ll probably have a new mom and dad and even a brother, but sometimes… sometimes I wish he were still here. Is that wrong?”

Shanks sighs. “No, Luffy; it means that you’re human.” he says gently, and then he holds the child’s body against his as Luffy hides his face against Shanks’ neck, shaking slightly.

“I wish you were my dad, you know?” he murmurs “That you were my dad and (name) was my mom; that way I could come live with you two, and everything would be alright.”

Shanks laughs softly; it’s evident on his face that the child’s words have touched him, just like they have touched you, but he keeps smiling as he gently breaks the hug, takes his beloved straw hat from his head to place it on the child’s dark hair.

“Shanks…?”

“This hat is my most precious possession; my dad gave it to me many years ago, before he died.” he explains softly “If I give it to you now, you’re going to be part of our family as well. I may not be your father, or your brother, but I promise I’ll always be there for you.”

“And I as well.” you add, kneeling to meet the boy’s eyes; a heavy, painful emotion has set on your heart, affection and sadness and protectivity all in one, and you’ve never thought about having children of your own, but it takes you a moment to decide you wouldn’t mind, that you’d be happy, to have Luffy be part of your life, and to be part of his “I’m sure you’ll find an amazing family, but you can count of me, now and forever.”

You embrace once more, long and tight, drying Luffy’s tears and kissing his little face; in the end the child is smiling once more, excitingly telling you about the couple who he has met yesterday, nice people he thinks will ask to adopt him and like they did with an older child named Ace, and of how he and Zoro have started writing to and calling each other to keep in touch. He seems relaxed and in peace and most of all hopeful - hopeful for the life all children deserve, and that has until now escaped him; he will find a family able to give it to him, if there’s any justice in the world, and otherwise… otherwise you’ll take care of it, you decide. It’s way too early to make plans about your relationships with both the men in front of you, but you know already you care about them enormously, and that healing will be easier, and faster, for both Shanks and Luffy if they can count on each other.

“Luffy, do you think the social worker will let you come to the movies with us?” you ask then, and the child’s face lights up.

“You mean today?”

“Would you like that?”

“Amazing!” Luffy cries excitedly “I’m gonna ask them!”

He turns and runs inside, his hands holding the brim of the hat to keep it firm on his head, leaving the two of you alone. “You don’t mind, do you?” you ask as you turn towards Shanks, suddenly unsure; the movies had been your idea, but maybe you should have asked for his opinion first nonetheless… “I’m afraid we’ll have to watch a children’s movie…”

“Cartoons are fine.” Shanks reassures you; he’s smiling broadly, clearly approving of your plan “We can ask if he can have dinner with us too, but then you’re all mine tonight, alright?”

“Only tonight?”

“Hmm, don’t tempt me…”

You share a smile; being close to Shanks makes your heart sing.

“Oh, right; I have something for you.” Shanks mentions after a moment; he retrieves a folded piece of paper from his pocket, that then he offers you.

“What’s this?”

“You were wondering what happened to Belle-mère’s daughters after her death; well, her fiancée adopted them both, now they’re living with him. They seem fine, this Genzo guy takes good care of them, but I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you.”

You’ll be happy as well, and your heart is full of gratitude for Shanks’ thoughtfulness; having pocketed the piece of paper with the girls’ new number, you circle his neck with your arms.

“I’m sorry you lost your hat, but… it’s amazing what you did for him.” you murmur, and he shrugs, admitting that while it wasn’t easy to abandon his father’s gift, he knows Luffy will take good care of it. He looks at you, his eyes full of an affection you already feel you can’t do without.“You really are amazing, you know?” he murmurs, and you’re about to ask him what caused the shift from gorgeous to amazing -not that you’re complaining, mind you- but you can’t, because Shanks is kissing you once more, and the whole world disappears as you lose yourself in the warmth of his embrace.

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Red-Haired Shanks #Shanks #Red-Haired Shanks x reader #Shanks x reader #Peter Gadiot #Bellona's stuff

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 5 months ago

Text

Track Marks And Dial Tones V

Summary: Agent Rohr keeps pushing, are you going to cave? Meanwhile, Clay is fighting his very own demons.

Pairing: Clay Roach x afab!cop!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k (short but dense!)

Content Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat 18+!, Drug Paraphernalia, Agent Rohr, Emotional Distress, Explicit Withdrawal Descriptions

A/N: Genuinely can’t believe this is actually happening rn. I’m back in the fucking building.

Find The Other Parts Here!

Tagging the horde: (Y’all….it’s been a hot minute. I don’t know who’s still active)

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @lifelessvessel @doddernix @svgarcaine @amayalul @basementgrl222 @kristennero-wallacewellsver @iiheartsai @fan-goddess @shady-the-simp @starry-eyed-wild-child

All we are is entertainment

Caught up in our own derangement

Tell us what to say and what to do

- Entertainment By Rise Against

You gagged; a myriad of rotten cardboard boxes wearing a now brown-tinted strawberry print rumbled into the blackened trash bag as you jerked the overflowing bin upside down, various stages of decomposition on full display. In your means to clean this place, you had quickly learned to be grateful if the task at hand was only about picking up brightly orange needle caps or tossed and scattered Fent strips.

“We gonna get you a chore planner, Clay.”, The words trickled into the dusty and thoroughly musty air as if he was right there with you and not miles away, pushing himself through an unmedicated living nightmare, “I swear, I’ll bust your balls if it ever gets that bad again!”

The deadpan statement coaxed a shallow, quick laugh to roll over your tongue chased by a heavy pang of anxiety cutting right through your stomach as you remembered just how fucking bad it had gotten on your end now, too.

It’s been days since Rohr has had the audacity to show up at your own house to shove his nose into business that wasn’t his in no way shape or form. However, he’d made a point; HR wouldn’t like your little stunt at all, no matter how hard you were to push the harm reduction agenda, pleading for humility and understanding in front of people who’d be more than pissed about the financial hassle of hundreds of missing test kits.

Just the thought of this shit-eating grin beaming right at you from the opposite end of your kitchen table whilst he’d drawn out photograph after photograph to punch his point down your throat a little harder with each picture rendered you sick to the bone and had your insides twitching in every possible direction. There wouldn’t be an easy way out of this, that much you knew, yet, risking Clay’s already fragile chance of actual sobriety was no point of discussion to be had for it being blatantly out of question. It had to happen, had to work out, and then… then it would all be good again; calming little white lies you told yourself to keep that last shred of sanity alive and fed somehow.

You forced your attention to return to the now plump trashbag, once hollow edges rounding with the sheer amount of strawberry milk boxes, if they’d let you, you’d bring some full ones to the facility soon in the hopes that the little things might make it more bearable for him.

During the past nights, you’d spent hours upon hours staring at your ceiling wondering, your thoughts conjuring images of pain levels you hadn’t felt yourself, not even when inflicting it upon yourself. Simply the mere train of thought about Clay going through days of crippling withdrawal shook you, made you flinch without any physical incentive to do so around you, wishing that you could help him carry the weight and pain in whatever ways possible.

The mobile device in your pocket buzzed, announcing a text that was waiting to be read. The sudden bzz-bzz humming through the fabric of your pants nearly had you crawling out of your own skin for a second, your ribcage exploding from the sudden jolt of adrenaline.

“Jesus, fuck!” You huffed out in a raggedy breath, dragging your phone from its confines, display lighting up with the touch of your thumb.

- Hey, sweets, I’m free tonight, just saying. Are you going to be? -

“Motherfucker!” The need to throw your phone at the next best wall rippled through your arm but you kept your composure, trashing your mobile over a text from that asshole wasn’t exactly on your to-do list, not today and not in the near future either.

His entire ribcage cramped, shrunk together as his stomach pumped a new wave of bile upward his esophagus to wash around the root of his tongue and eventually gush free from parted lips, the acidic amalgamation of mucus and foodless vomit slumping down into the pristinely white toilet bowl, the scent of harsh chlorine cleaning solution burning it’s way into his overstimulated nostrils.

Clay felt sick like a dog, sick to a degree the term “dope sick” didn’t even fully convey the level of misery his body and mind were going through as the wash of throat-burning barf left his trembling statue. The lump thumbed down in a dull thud as he reached for the button to flush it all down just like everything that had left his body beforehand already; trembling fingers barely able to push against the mechanics with enough vigor.

After he’d wiped quivering lips with a bunched-up fistful of cheap and coarse toilet paper, Clay slumped back down onto his heels, lungs burning with the attempts to gasp for air after it had felt like the mucus and puke damn near choked him out. His eyes burned and his entire vision was blurred with the intense amounts of pressure throbbing through his skull every time his stomach contracted with the means to violently eject the few crumbs Clay had managed to shove down for breakfast.

“Peak between 48 and 72 hours, my fucking ass.”, Dry lips smacked against each other, the sensitive skin brittle and chapped, “It’s been 5 days, you fuckers.”

Clay’s already sore voice broke off almost immediately, turned into a pathetic, whimpery croak as a surge of violent tears oozed from his lashline. He knew he could push through it, it wasn’t exactly his first rodeo, however, the helplessness of it all that had his body trembling, muscles aching and joints feeling like they were about to break apart got to him. He couldn’t help it and the trivial, set-in-stone-fact drove him to the edge of crumbling.

Unless inevitably medically necessary, this facility had a strict no-medication policy. No helping hand, no little pick-me-up besides vegetable snack plates and smoothies, fucking smoothies. Clay could’ve sworn to still taste the biting hint of celery that ruined damn near everything in larger quantities, especially now that the deep green liquid had found its path all the way back since ingesting it in a faint moment of hope along the afternoon hours.

With a long groan rolling over his tongue, Clay let his head loll back against the uncomfortably bright white tiles of his adjoined bathroom, thinking about a cheeseburger and fries. For a little while, his thoughts stayed there as he slid down from his heels onto his ass, pulling his knees underneath his chin to rest his head upon. Greasy, salty goodness with an extra large diet coke for that nice crisp and tingly feeling dancing amongst his ketchup and mustard battered tastebuds. Fucking smoothies.

He closed his eyes, wiping the wetness from his cheeks on gray hoodie sleeves. The piece of clothing felt like a warm, comforting hug, all cozy and fuzzy on the inside. Clay pushed his face into the fabric, the thick cloth blacking out the harsh bright light from above, and he sighed in relief, a faint smile ghosting around his mouth. He was thankful; thankful for you packing that duffle bag for him, thankful for the sploppily put together grilled cheese that had tasted like heaven, and grateful for that black and purple polka-dotted cup filled with hot chocolate.

Clay knew that he didn’t owe you anything, you weren’t that type of person to push your thumb onto all the good that you’d done until someone gave you a badge of honor for it, no, nonetheless, almost all of his motivations to go through with this led back to you, back to you crouching in front of him whilst he had sluggishly come to, back to how you’d held him, dragged him to your car and took matters into your own hands because everything had eventually slipped from his that night.

#rory culkin #clay roach #city on a hill #clay roach x reader #track marks and dial tones #clay roach x you #clay roach x fem!Reader

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everlasting-rainfall · 7 months ago

Note

Have you considered any of the other CP9 agents for the skin to fur au? I feel like Blueno or Kalifa would make such interesting yanderes

I have actually! Well except Fukurou and Spandam because I’m not the biggest fans of them like I think they’re alright but I don’t typically find myself daydreaming about them in these kinds of scenarios, you know?

Yeah, I’m sure you get it

Anyways so because I don’t think that I can write the two of them together, this might just be moreso some short imagines. Sorry!

But as an apology, I��ll throw in some imagines about Kumadori as well. Does that sound good? I certainly hope it does as Kumadori is pretty nice like I’d give him a kiss or two if I could

Anyways before I start rambling too much! Let’s get into it, shall we?

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

Kidnapping, Stalking, Delusions, Transformation, Violence, Breaking and Entering, Manipulation, Implied Murder, Impregnation, Rainfall Probably Not Knowing How Zoo’s Work

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

Okay so we’re gonna start off with Blueno and his animal theme in CP9 is apparently a bull which suits him quite well in all honesty considering those big bull horns on the sides of his head

But I can honestly imagine that like with the zoo where all of the CP9 agents currently live, there’s his enclosure which isn’t too popular with anyone as it’s just a bull when there’s so much more interesting things to be seen like a giraffe or a leopard or a wolf so typically Blueno doesn’t get many visitors

It doesn’t bother him much though as the zookeepers only really come in to feed him and then clean his area so it makes for good alone time and if he’s truly bored then he can always simply wander into one of the more secluded parts of his enclosure and transform into a human

Escaping their enclosures is rarely hard after all and it’s easy to slip out plus he’s memorized what times he’s fed and taken care of so he just has to be back before then

Wandering the park is how he eventually meets you like let’s say that the reason that he noticed you is because you brought in some kind of outside drink and the zoo doesn’t allow that so he points it out to you and whether or not you knew that rule. You toss it just to get him off your back

You probably expect that to be your very last interaction with Blueno and he expects it too but instead he finds himself following you around when you visit. He justifies it to himself as making sure that you don’t cause any further problems but really he wants to follow you

His more animal instincts are telling him to keep you out of trouble so you won’t wind up getting hurt as there are a lot of predatory animals in the zoo that aren’t members of CP9 so as a result, he sees you as a heifer that needs to be protected and guarded

You of course notice that this man won’t stop following you around and it is getting worrying especially as if you approach him about it then he just winds up denying it and if you talk to a staff member then he always conveniently manages to disappear

It’s getting worrying and irritating so you more than likely stop going to the zoo so much just to avoid this guy and the stalking does stop

Mostly because Blueno doesn’t want to risk losing track of time and blowing his cover by going to look for you

But trust me, Blueno is going absolutely crazy over this like he is on edge and everyone can tell like Kaku once had to tell him to calm down in giraffe before he got himself in trouble. Blueno can’t help it though as you aren’t here and he needs you otherwise you could wind up hurt or worse in his eyes

You never reappear at the zoo however and it’s starting to make him truly consider leaving to find you and drag you back so you can’t leave him ever again

However wouldn’t you know it? There you are… Coming to celebrate some kind of work related event or family birthday or something here, he’ll watch you from afar just like he’s always done but you aren’t getting away this time… He’ll make sure of it…

So when you head off on your own to the bathrooms, that’s when he gets you… Blueno snatches you and knocks you unconscious before dragging you off to his enclosure, you’ll be safe with him… He knows it…

I can’t see him forcing himself on you at first but he definitely turns you in some alternative method as now you’re a cow of some kind with him

This has happened so much at the zoo at this point that there are questions as to where you came from but no one questions it for long as hey, at least there’s something to hopefully make people more interested in Blueno’s enclosure now

Honestly I can see him being one of the more laidback members of the CP9 animal shifters like he won’t keep you stuck inside of the den like how Lucci and Jabra do to their S/O’s but he still doesn’t like people looking at you for too long so he might try to get in the direct line of sight of anyone whose looking at you for too long

And yeah, your family or your co-workers might wonder where you went but do you really think that they’ll ever find out? I mean… Magical bull man who took you and turned into a magical cow lady?

Yeah, right… You’re here forever with Blueno in the zoo and he might eventually want to put a few calves in you but that can wait for right now as he’s just enjoying the fact that he’s keeping you safe with him in the enclosure

So for Kalifa, let’s imagine something different here as her animal is apparently a sheep when I looked it up and I’m unsure if a zoo would keep a sheep in an enclosure unless it’s a petting zoo and that would not fly with Kalifa…

So let’s imagine that she chooses to be in her human form when she’s at the zoo like she works there while the others act as zoo animals that people can gawk at. She might be doing something similar to what she did with Iceberg where she was like his assistant but she could also just be a zookeeper

I like assistant better though so let’s go with that and let’s say that eventually with all the disappearances at the zoo, there’s been a rise in problems and the zoo winds up hiring you to help Kalifa with the piles of paperwork that need to be done while the owner handles everything else

Working with Kalifa isn’t too bad but it’s not the best as she’s a very serious and intimidating lady plus you once tried to give her a soda after a vending machine spit out two instead of one and she claimed it was sexual harassment

You’re fairly certain that she doesn’t like you in the slightest but although she was indifferent to you at first, she actually starts to enjoy your presence as the two of you work together

Part of her starts to feel stressed as well when you don’t show up to work one day and when she calls you, she finds out that you’re sick. Cue Kalifa showing up at your house while you’re resting having brought you some medicine and things to make you more comfortable

In your sick state, you don’t question how she got in as most of your attention is on the fact that she bought you the next book/dvd/game of your favorite series

Honestly chances are that Kalifa uses this as a chance to snoop around your house and find out more about you. She learns as much as she can while she snoops and winds up feeling a new sort of connection to you

Especially if she happens to find like a wool sweater in your closet or laundry basket as if your fate wasn’t sealed with her before then now it’s permanently sealed as she starts to imagine you as a sheep animal shifter just like her. It’s safe enough to say that she likes the visual

Maybe you’ll have a few dates as you work with Kalifa and now that you two talk more, she finds out about them and if she can’t scare them off then she’s always up for blackmail or faking some things to make your date look like a scumbag

When the day comes where Kalifa needs to shave her wool, she typically just gets rid of it but this time. She decides to make a little something and fastens a nice article of clothing for you which she offers to you

And the next day when you walk in wearing it? You might as well have just asked the girl to marry you as there is a blush across her cheeks the whole time that you both work which she refuses to explain

Eventually they can’t hide the zoo can’t recover from all of the disappearances so the animals are being transferred to a new one and likely the members of CP9 are as well so Kalifa immediately applies for a job at the new zoo

Meanwhile you don’t really intend on moving so you try to say goodbye to Kalifa, that won’t fly with her though as Goodbye? Yeah, right…

Kalifa will attempt to manipulate you into moving with her at first and if that doesn’t work then she’ll simply pack her things, get ready to leave, and make one final stop on her way out of town

Now you’re across her backseat probably having your pressure point hit so you would fall unconscious. Does she feel bad about it? Not a chance… You were being stubborn about following your mate after all…

You became her mate when you accepted her wool sweater, don’t you know? And now there’s no way out for you as you’re being forcefully moved with Kalifa to a new town

She would fuck you to turn you or bite you but those aren’t all that appealing to her as what would truly be nice is drawing a bath and stripping you down, putting a fun little mixture in the water to activate it and gently washing your body with her hands until you’re just like her

No one will take an interest in what clearly belongs to her after that and if they do then it’s simple, really… Do what everyone else does go homewrecking bastards and get rid of them as efficiently as possible…

So as for Kumadori, if I’m correct he is supposed to be a lion in his animal theming and I don’t know about you guys but at the zoo. I always wanna see the lions like they are amazing and I love them (biased as lions are favorite animal)

Anyways so I can honestly imagine that Kumadori might be one of the most popular animals at the zoo like even moreso than Lucci, Kaku, Jabra, or any of the non animal shifter animals living there

It’s not just because he’s a lion either as we’ve all seen how Kumadori can be and those traits don’t get dialed back even when he’s in his animal form and that’s what makes him so popular as he practically puts on a show for all of the guests with what he does

He brings in the most money out of all the animals and people love to see his antics and how he can be eventually seeing the popularity, the zoo owner hires you to basically do shows with him like educational ones but they’re still clearly meant to attract more visitors and make money…

You were scared at first when you heard you would be working with a lion but the worst thing that this lion did was seemingly try to commit seppuku when he thought he offended you and then got sad when his claws didn’t cut him

Kumadori has to be one of the most dramatic yet oddly obedient animals that you’ve met as he’s willing to work with you and put on these shows for visitors but you once tripped and fell during a show only for this lion to act like you had just fallen to your death

If there was a spotlight in his enclosure then it most certainly would be pointed at him… But hey, the crowd loved it and you did too as you were getting paid

What you only really saw as a job however, Kumadori saw at first as a partnership of two performers on a stage that would potentially transform into something more as the two of you kept up the shows together

He even started to let out a tearful roar of farewell whenever you would leave his enclosure for the day, he would bellow out for you to “Oh please not leave me all alone, my dear! For I would miss you so much that I will meet my dearly departed mother in heaven before you return!” and all you hear is “ROAR!! Roar, roar, roar! ROAR!!”

His heart does break whenever you leave him as well and it only gets worse if he sees you speaking to someone else outside his enclosure… Jealousy stirs heavily in his chest to the point where he would like nothing more than to rip you away from that person…

Even when he rubs his scent all over you the next day through nuzzling, others still speak to you! Can’t they understand that you’re his? The nerve of those homewreckers!!

When the zoo closes for the day and the members of CP9 are able to actively speak to one another, thanks to Kalifa turning off the cameras before she finishes her work. Kumadori airs his grieveneces about you leaving and leaving him to drown in his own heartbreak and tears

This is when the others remind him about what he can do, he can make it so that you’ll stay forever just so long as he can turn you into an animal shifter just like him. The look of amazement that comes across his face as he imagines you as his beautiful lion/lioness

It’s heavenly to the point where he might actually die and go to heaven… He needs it… He wants it…

So the next time that the two of you put on a show, he attempts to make it intimate and romantic but there’s only so much a lion can do to make things romantic when he sinks his teeth into you

It’s a deep bite that breaks the skin and he tries to act so apologetic about it, he doesn’t feel one shred of regret for it however even as you immediately leave after the show

He knows that you’ll come home to him soon so he doesn’t even bother with the farewell roar this time as he just waits

He waits and waits until the chaos of a lion on the loose can be heard and the smile stretches across his face as he starts to clean up around his enclosure and den

A few hours later, you’re dragged in as an unconscious lion recovering from the effects of a tranquilizer dart. The zookeepers are talking about how insane all of this is but they’re happy to have a new lion at the very least

They wait to see if Kumadori will have a bad reaction to you which of course he doesn’t, he drags you off to what’s now your shared den and lays you down

After which he cuddles with you and couldn’t be happier, you’ll be disorientated and confused when you wake up but he’ll tell you all about how “The stars have aligned and brought us together, my dear!! They have granted our wish to be together and now we shall never part from each other’s side!!”

Better get used to loud voices and Kumadori’s weirdness as you’ll be experiencing it for the rest of your life now… He’ll never let you go…

And if anyone would try to take you from him whether it be human, animal shifter, or anything else then it will be over his dead body especially if he winds up putting his cubs in your belly as proof of your love

(Sorry, it was the best gif I could find of him that wasn’t just a clip from the show… I have no idea who it belongs to as I found it on Google Images but IT IS NOT MINE…)

#minors dni #the rain talks back #yandere one piece #reader insert #yandere male #animal shifter au #Skin into Fur AU #read the trigger warnings #Yandere Blueno #Yandere Kalifa #Yandere Kumadori

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