#no it hasn’t there was/is a time where i’ll go completely silent but most of the time i like to talk i just don’t think other like | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

najlepsiznajlepsich · 8 months ago

Text

cardigan

pairing: lando norris x reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, angst (a bit), lando and reader are teenagers (for the most part)

author's note: im sorry for any mistakes, or if i missed a warning, this was supposed to be really inspired by Taylor Swift's cardigan but i got kind of lost in the plot lmao

Oh. How you loved this. Giggles of you and your friends were echoing through the house. No one even had an idea of what they were talking about, and half of the words coming out of their mouths were slurred. You weren’t sure about what was going on. Except for Lando’s burning touch on your shoulder. It felt too good.

Being completely lost in the moment, you nearly didn’t even hear your phone ringing. You reached for it and walked into a different room. You didn’t read the name of the caller, and you should’ve, because when you picked up, your mom started berating you.

She hung up and you walked back to where your friends were having the time of their lives. ��I’m going home, guys.” You said and grabbed your jacket that was thrown over the sofa. The ‘why’s’ of your friends were filling your ears. “I’ll drive you.” Lando jumped up and dragged you out of the house.

“Mom. Don’t worry I’ll come home in a few hours.” You blurted out. “Oh no, young lady. You’re coming home right now!” she raised her voice and continued.

"When you’re an adult you can do whatever you want! But you’re not, so you’re coming home!” You sighed. Really? “Okay. I’ll be home in a bit.”

“For who did you get all dressed up like that? I’m surprised you can even walk in them.” Lando commented on your heels as they clicked against the cobblestone path. You just giggled and sat in the passenger’s seat. “You seem too happy, did you want to get out of there or something?” you asked as he started driving.

“Well, you know I prefer 1 on 1 conversations. That was too much chaos.” “I doubt that you party lion.” He smiled. The car fell into a comfortable silence. As you stopped at a traffic light you felt Lando’s eyes scanning you.

“I’ve never seen you wearing that t-shirt. Is it ne-“ “Oh no. It was my mom’s.” You cut him off and giggled. “Vintage. So adorable.” You both exploded into laughter at the mean girls reference. He stopped in front of your house and you wished that the ride would last longer. You thanked him and got out of the car.

You felt his eyes following your silhouette as you walked inside. The front door shut and you leaned against it. “Mom already went to sleep,” your dad said and you exhaled deeply. “Oh, Lando drove you home. He’s such a nice young man isn’t he?” You rolled your eyes and rushed towards your room.

Lando knew you too well. Putting on those high heels was one of your biggest regrets and they were kicked off immediately. You could barely bring yourself to remove your makeup and change your clothes. But somehow you did. Finally, the bed sank under your body and your mind was already drifting off.

Your phone beeped. Lando.

Hope you can hang out next weekend :).

Oh shit. You totally forgot you’re turning 18 next weekend.

I def can, mom didn’t say anything. You giggled to yourself as you sent the message.

She was asleep. Wasn’t she?

You burst out laughing. Yeah, and?

His message popped up immediately: Go to sleep Y/N. Well, why argue.

That week went by too fast. School didn’t give you a chance to take a break. But, Saturday rolled around, and now you’re 18. Isn’t it crazy? Only, if you could actually enjoy it.

There were so many family members in your house, half of them you didn’t even know. And now you were thinking if your mom hasn’t just turned your birthday party into a family reunion. It was too boring. The time went by even slower than when you were in school. You just did your job. Talked to everyone, you even smiled at them politely.

After a long long time, it was finally silent. Just you, your dad and your mom. And you probably jinxed it, because your phone started ringing. “Ugh, another cousin calling.” You thought before you picked your phone up. Could not be more wrong.

It’s Lando.

“Yeah?” you picked up.

“Don’t you want to go somewhere? Somewhere out?” He spoke slowly.

“Oh. Uhh, sure? Where are you right-““Outside your house, come out.” He laughed into the phone and hung up.

You grabbed the closest thing you could put on and walked outside. Your mom’s cardigan. Your feet carried you outside, while your brain wasn’t sure of this. Whatever.

“Hii!” Lando yelled and hugged you. “Happy birthday! Come on!” He started walking away instantly. “Hey! Where are we going?” You ran after him. “Don’t you want to relax by the lake?” He said, shutting you up immediately.

Like always, it was quiet. Ducks floated on top of the lake and some insects you weren’t able to recognize flew around you. This was so peaceful. It was like a whole new world. That's just what you needed.

“Look at what I got you,” Lando spoke up. He pulled out two small bottles of alcohol from his pocket and threw one into your lap. “Come on” he muttered as he unscrewed the cap off his bottle. You let him open yours too.

“I really want to see your reaction,” he laughed as he handed it back to you. You didn’t waste any time as you brought it to your lips and took a sip. Your nose scrunched instantly, and that’s all Lando needed to burst into laughter. “Try mine.”

One sip turned to two, and then it went downhill pretty quickly. “Come on Lando!” You whined as you dragged him behind you. “I have to get home!” You giggled. He pulled you into a hug, which you didn’t mind. Your whole body was cold, and he had a warmth you couldn’t explain.

It was dark already and the only light that illuminated you was a streetlight right above you. “You’re so warm. I’m freezing.” Lando grunted. Huh? “No, you’re the hot one.” You forgot how to think, and it was obvious by now. “Wow. Thank you.” He just chuckled while you were endlessly defending yourself. Ugh, it’s not like he’s a genius when he’s drunk too.

And just right after you both calmed down, a song started to play from a nearby house. “How loud did he put it on, if we can hear it here?” You burst out laughing. “Don’t laugh. Dance with me.” Well, who were you to deny that request?

His touch was a tingling sensation on your skin, something you wished you could feel forever. He danced slowly, probably to not make you throw up from the moves. And while you felt sick, it all felt like a beautiful dream. Something not real. It was just too good.

“Lando…Home” you whispered into his neck, and without a protest he started walking you home. Supported you, caught you when you stumbled, then opened the front door of your house. You kicked off your shoes and sat on the floor. “Okay, goodnight, pretty.” He said in a hushed voice as he shut the door behind him and blood instantly rushed into your cheeks.

“Had a nice night out, young lady?” Your tired dad walked out of the kitchen and went to pick you up from the floor. “Let’s get you to bed.” He suggested and you exhaled. “Please don’t tell mom, please dad.” “I won’t, just go to bed.”

And it’s Monday again. Ugh. You hated your Monday classes, especially physics. Your brain couldn’t understand anything at this hour. You nearly fell asleep numerous times, and your blinking turned into microsleep. Your phone, which wasn’t charged from last night, vibrated in your pocket and you reached for it.

Of course, it's Lando.

Are you free after school?

Yeah. You typed out a quick response and stuffed your phone back into the pocket.

And until lunch you were walking around with the biggest grin on your face. Like a little kid with a lollypop. Except, you needed to show Lando's response to your girls.

I'll wait for you in front of the school, ok? You read the message aloud to them, who couldn’t refrain themselves from aww-ing. “He definitely wants you.” Your best friend giggled and you rolled your eyes. A chorus of agreement came from all sides of the table. “We’re just friends, I swear.” “Yeah… But you’re in love with him.”

Finally, out of the school. Seeing Lando wait there for you made your heart jump a bit. Maybe your friend was right. “Come on, they're waiting for us.” Lando smiled and started walking. “Who? If I can ask?” “Oh, right, just some of my friends.”

Well, you found out that you have a different definition for “some friends”. You expect just your closest friend group. Not another 10 people. And you had no idea who they were. You and Lando sat down on the grass next to them.

“I need to do my homework.” Lando proclaimed and you burst out laughing. “You? Homework? Good joke.” “It’s actually important, you know?” Lando said with a quiet voice while everyone was laughing. But they moved on from that really quickly. Now they were gossiping about some random people.

Lando kept scribbling into his notebook. Scribbling a whole lot of nothing. “What the hell are you doing?” You whispered and he shushed you. “I��don’t want to be here.” He muttered and started doodling on your arm. “Aren’t these your friends?” “I don’t like them.” You scoffed but didn’t question him further.

As you were sitting there for longer and longer, more messy stars and hearts appeared on your arms. Lando was studying you instead of that homework. “When did you get this one?” He asked and you could hear the tiredness in his voice. “Remember when I tried to learn how to skateboard?” He giggled. “No way.” He yawned, and you continued telling him that story.

It didn’t take long and he was already sleeping on your shoulder. How were you going to get him home? You answered your own question almost instantly. Well, that’s just a future you problem.

Lando calling you to hang out on the weekends became a routine. A comfortable routine that you loved and appreciated. Until it stopped. Unannounced. And you had no idea why. The thought lingered around in your mind. Maybe, he just got bored of you.

Then one weekend hangouts were revived. He called you. Your heart stopped for a second.

“Hi. You wanna go somewhere out?” he asked, the connection breaking towards the end of the sentence.

“Sure.” You said into the phone, trying so hard to be cool.

“I’ll come pick you up in 10.” He blurted out and ended the call.

You haven’t talked to him in so long. Now he sounds totally different. You put on some random clothes that were thrown over the chair and bolted outside. Surprisingly, Lando arrived sooner than he promised. No problem.

But just as you were about to open the passenger door, you noticed a girl sitting there. Okay, so now you’ve been demoted to the backseat. You jumped there and Lando turned around to look at you.

“Okay, so the teachers said I have to show her around the town. You don’t mind being my assistant, do you?” Lando explained the situation very quickly. Too quickly. “No, not at all,” he smiled and the girl smiled back.

It was the foreign exchange student. You had English with her. The reason you remember her is just because she always talked about her weekend with Lando. Yeah, you were jealous. And what?

He started driving around showing her all your spots. Where you had the best times of your lives. And now she knows them too. Ugh. Your secret spots weren’t secret anymore. And of course, she has to be the one who sees them. While sitting in your seat.

You were seething and you hated it. This wasn’t fair. You just couldn’t take it.

"Lando, can you drop me off home… My mom wants me to do something." He responded calmly. "Sure." Fuck. He really had no idea. As soon as that car stopped by your house, you jumped out. No goodbye, no see ya. Nothing.

You stomped your way inside and when the door shut behind you. Tears poured out of your eyes. And for once in your life you were happy your mom wasn’t asleep when you came home. She just hugged you, not asking a single question. “Boys are assholes, that one definitely did not deserve you.”

The rest of your high school life went by fine. You and Lando stayed friends, just not as close as before. Somehow, he could not figure out why.

The graduation day was something you were looking forward to. You liked having someone by your side, but no one could actually understand you. So the plan was to ghost them. Maybe too harsh, shame that you didn’t give a fuck. You were waiting for your parents so you could go to lunch together. Until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, Y/N.” Lando. Of course, it has to be him. “So… This is going to sound absolutely crazy, but…” You rolled your eyes and waited for whatever shitty idea he was about to introduce you to. “Do you want to travel around the country with me?” He asked, not sure if you were even listening. “I have classes I don’t have to attend and I’ll do my assignments on the road.”

“I can’t do that, are you crazy? I got into a good university and I won’t do some random shit with you, just because you want to.” You snapped at his unawareness. “I actually value my education-“ “I do too, please, it would be so fun.” He whined out. “How about you go ask your perfect best friend. I’m sure she'd love to go with you” His eyes went wide.

“Is this all because of her?” “All? What is that?” you asked, clearly mocking his voice. “You’re avoiding me, not wanting to hang with me and now you’re a bitch about it. I didn’t know you were so jealous.” He scoffed and walked away from you.

“Enjoy that dumb trip!” You can’t believe this is how your friendship ends. You can’t believe that you’re still in love with that asshole.

And as pathetic as that sounds, every day of your university life you regretted saying no to Lando. That little crush didn’t go away. Your mom just couldn't stop showing you photos from his social media accounts (that you had blocked). And it was like he was haunting you.

When you were walking through your hometown, you were thinking about the good memories you made.

Men who wore cologne like his made you stop in your tracks.

The conversation on that graduation day was like a song you couldn’t stop playing in your mind.

You wished that the stars he drew on your skin were permanent tattoos.

You cursed him out for not being more convincing that day. You cursed out that girl for blinding you with jealousy. You didn’t see the truth because of the dark green haze.

He was everywhere, but still nowhere. You were sure you had developed hallucinations by now.

And there wasn’t a night you weren’t thinking about what could’ve happened if you said yes. If wouldn’t cut him off. If you both just matured and stopped acting like nothing was wrong. If you started dating instead of tiptoeing around a label.

Fuck. If only you weren’t dumb teenagers.

Back home for holidays. And everything reminded you of him. Even your house wasn’t safe. Your parents decided to visit your neighbors, and you swore you’d go crazy in that time.

It’s hard being always correct. All the photos you hung up on the wall were with Lando and you didn’t know if to smile or cry. But, you decided to stop emotionally destroying yourself and went to the living room. You couldn't handle being in own room. That sounds crazy. Just as you got comfortable, the doorbell rang over the opening of your favorite TV show.

Aren’t they home just too soon? Maybe they just forgot something. But as you opened the door you nearly got a heart attack.

Lando.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice soft like never before.

“You’re here. I can’t believe it.” He stammered.

“Of course, I’m here. Why are you so shocked?” you responded. It was like both of you were on thin ice. One bad word or move and you’ll both fall apart.

“I’ve been trying to apologize to you for so long, but you’re never here.” His voice trembled.

“You’ve been waiting for me?” Your eyes were full of tears and a smile formed on your quaking lips.

“Of course, I always loved you.”

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris x you #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine

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bobalegsanji · 1 month ago

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Trust me

Chapter 1 ☆ Chapter 2

Late night talks between a certain cook and a swordsman.

Or, Sanji feels the need to learn more about Zoro after Thriller Bark.

Or, Zoro needs to learn more about Sanji after Whole Cake Island

Zosan. Words: 7,806.

Trigger Warnings: mentions of anxiety.

One Piece Masterlist

Sanji has noticed it.

The stares Zoro’s been sending him for the past 2 days haven’t gone unnoticed, not by him nor by the crew. Robin had already asked him, ‘’what is up with Zoro and you? Have you talked to him yet?’’

Sanji just brushed it off. He hadn’t talked to the swordsman, hadn’t really expected to have to talk to him about this .

He knows words have gotten around. Luffy doesn’t see the point of secrets- it’s like he doesn’t really understand secrecy. He’ll babble about anyone’s most shameful moments without understanding the shame it brings, because ‘’why would you be ashamed of that? We’re family, we hold no secrets!’’

Sanji hasn’t been able to look at Luffy or Nami without feeling a pang of guilt that ripples through every cell of his body. They’re the only ones who’ve seen the worst part of him: the moment where, for the first time, Germa truly won. The moment he had to completely let go of his pride and self-control to go against his captain in the worst way possible.

He’d never tell anyone, but every night without fail, he wakes up with tears in his eyes and the feeling of Luffy’s skull cracking under his leg. Their conversation is burned into his mind, and he can’t help but keep pushing that mental wound until it bleeds.

’Low-class pirate.

You’re the one that gets hurt.

Our journey isn’t over yet.

If you don’t come back, I’ll be here starving.’

But the worst of all:

‘Without you, I can’t become the King of the Pirates.’

Anxiety ripples through his body so suddenly, the glass he’s been washing almost slips from his hands. Sanji sighs deeply, dropping the glass and sponge in the hot water. He dries his hands, willfully ignoring how much they shake, and takes a moment to rest his back against the kitchen counter.

He sighs once more, closing his eyes to fully submerge in the painful memories. What’s the deal anyway with engulfing yourself in such unpleasant thoughts? If it hurts so badly, why does it feel so good at the same time?

The remembrance of his brothers laughing at his pain, deriding his captain- it hurts, but he deserves the pain the memories bring.

His hands automatically search for his cigarettes. When he can’t find them, he pushes his head into his hands and glides to the floor.

‘’Failure,’’ he whispers, softly. ‘’Couldn’t even protect Luffy or Nami-swan at Whole Cake.’’ The prickling feeling of tears pushing behind his eyes makes him dizzy, but he doesn’t care. The image of finding Luffy in the rain, the blemished bento-box, Nami’s reaction… It’s all too much.

He makes no sound as tears roll down his cheeks. One hand is clasped against his mouth to muffle any sounds, the other buried in his hair. He doesn’t tug - doesn’t want to hurt himself- but the feeling of knowing he could do it, the control, feels good.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, silently crying into his hand until there are no more tears left to cry. The memories don’t stop, they play on a loop until he doesn’t feel anything anymore.

The sound of the kitchen door opening makes him jump.

‘’Cook?’’ Zoro’s voice sounds loud through the otherwise silent night. ‘’The lights are on, I know you’re here.’’

Sanji doesn’t move. One hand is still clasped over his mouth, hopefully muffling the sounds of his slightly laboured breathing. If he doesn’t make a sound, Zoro might really think he just forgot to turn off the lights and went to bed.

Sadly, luck doesn’t seem to be on his side. Zoro’s heavy footsteps echo through the room until they are still next to him.

Zoro doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Sanji doesn’t dare to look up, too ashamed to be found in his current position.

‘’You good?’’ Zoro asks after a couple of awkwardly silent seconds.

‘’Great, thank you. You can go now,’’ Sanji makes out, cringing at the high pitch he can’t suppress.

Zoro doesn’t respond. Sanji almost hopes Zoro’s nice enough to leave him alone. Instead, he hears glasses clink and the tap turn on.

‘’Here,’’ Zoro says softly, offering a glass of water in front of Sanji’s face. He can’t see Zoro’s face from his position, only a strong hand offering the glass and the swordsman’s legs in front of him, but he still feels his ears flush.

‘’Thanks…’’ Sanji mutters, accepting the glass. It’s cool against his hands, and the water feels foreign and fresh in his mouth.

‘’You want to stay here or go outside?’’ Zoro asks.

Sanji still doesn’t meet his eyes, focussing his eyes on the glass in his hands. ‘’I’m fine, really. You can go to sleep.’’

Zoro scoffs, his shoes clack against the floor. It’s an endearing tick Sanji likes about him.

‘’You’re not fine, cook. It’s 4 am and you’re on your own crying on the kitchen floor.’’

‘’Just…’’ Sanji sighs, putting the glass on the ground next to him. ‘’Lots to think about.’’

Zoro is quiet. The air in the kitchen has never felt so heavy, the silence is so thick Sanji doubts Zoro would be able to cut it with Wado if he tried.

Suddenly, Zoro drops down next to him. His back thuds against the headboard behind them, and he clumsily tries to take off his swords without accidentally stabbing Sanji with the sheaths.

‘’What do you think you’re doing?’’ Sanji asks, his voice not sounding as fiery as he had hoped. He can’t bring himself to look at the struggling swordsman next to him, opting to stare at the squeaky clean floor on the other side of the room. The day and night have been spent cleaning, trying to take his mind off of anything but laundry and kitchen reorganisation and even cleaning the boys’ bathroom - his body feels heavy and exhausted, but it hasn’t given his racing mind any rest.

Only when Zoro’s swords are neatly placed in front of their feet, with the newest addition, Enma, softly touching Sanji’s booth, does he respond. ‘’I’m worried about you.’’

Sanji closes his eyes out of embarrassment. Too much has happened to deny the fact that Zoro is absolutely justified in being worried about him.

‘’I’m- I get that, but… Nami talked to me, and-’’ Sanji struggles to form an excuse, but Zoro cuts him off before he can finish.

‘’Nami hasn’t talked to you in days,’’ Zoro responds brutally. ‘’You’ve been swooning less than usual too, did you piss her off?’’

Shocked, Sanji turns to face Zoro. Instead of the challenging look he’d expected after such provocative words, the swordsman looks… sad.

‘’I don’t- Don’t say it like that,’’ Sanji says softly.

Zoro shrugs, breaking their gaze to look at the swords in front of him. ‘’Just telling it how it is. Did you piss her off or not?’’

Sanji sighs, dropping his head against the cupboard behind him to stare at the ceiling. ‘’I did.’’

‘’Is it obligatory?’’

‘’What?’’ Sanji asks, confused, checking to see if Zoro’s poking fun at him. ‘’obligatory?’’

‘’Yea?’’ Zoro meets his eyes, shrugging his shoulders and looking incredibly innocent. ‘’You know… Do you deserve it?’’

Sanji laughs softly. ‘’Yes, it is deservedly. But that’s now how you use obligatory.’’

Zoro’s eyebrows scrunch together as he thinks. ‘’It’s not?’’

Sanji can’t suppress the soft laugh that escapes. He hopes it doesn’t make Zoro feel dumb. He doesn’t mean to laugh at him, he’s just cute sometimes. ‘’Did you mean objectively?’’

There’s no response, but Zoro’s still looking at him, as if waiting for further information, so Sanji keeps talking.

‘’Objectively means factually true, so you’d be asking whether I did something genuinely stupid. Obligatory means mandatory.’’

‘’Oh,’’ Zoro responds. ‘’Yea, I meant that. So you did something genuinely stupid?’’

‘’I did.’’ The smile on Sanji’s face is immediately wiped away at the remembrance of what exactly he did. ‘’Nami promised to forgive me, but I guess she’s having a bit of a hard time,’’ he sighs deeply, ‘’I can’t blame her.’’

Zoro hums softly. ‘’Can we go outside?’’

‘’Hmm?’’ Honestly, Sanji should’ve been used to the out-of-pocket remarks Zoro occasionally makes, but he never really gets used to it. ‘’We’re talking about something I feel really shitty about, can’t you show me a little bit of fucking sympathy every once in a while?’’

Zoro doesn’t respond, just gets up and rummages through the hidden liquor cabinet.

‘’Wait, how the fuck do you know I keep liquor there?’’

Zoro shrugs with his back to the cook, pushing aside crackers and bread to get to the good stuff at the back. ‘’No way you only have that sad little stock of off-brand sake you keep in your ‘liquor cabinet.’ I’m not stupid, you know?’’

‘’I doubt it sometimes,’’ Sanji sighs, focussing his attention back on Enma. He quietly traces the sheath of the sword, appreciating the deep purple. It’s surprising how much power one little blade can hold, but Sanji isn’t fooled - he’s seen the power it wields first hand.

Zoro turns around with multiple bottles of good sake in his arms. His eyes are still on Enma, but he says nothing. ‘’You want a glass or to drink straight from the bottle?’’

‘’We’re drinking?’’ Sanji asks, still not looking at the swordsman. ‘’I’m not in a very festive mood.’’

‘’You don’t have to be,’’ Zoro responds, already picking up a glass for the mannered cook. ‘’We’re drinking, you’re smoking, and you’re telling me what happened. If I hear any contradiction, I’m waking up Chopper and telling him you’ve not been sleeping. Again.’’

‘’Contradiction isn’t the most fitting word. I’d recommend bullshit instead.’’

Zoro laughs, ‘’I thought you’d appreciate some manners, but fine. If you tell me any bullshit, I’ll wake up Chopper. I don’t know the whole story, but I’ve heard things, and I’ll know if you lie to me.’’

Sanji nods, standing up as he speaks, ‘’you can go outside, let me find my cigarettes and I’ll follow you.’’

‘’Hmm.’’ Zoro stands still in front of the kitchen door, arms full of alcohol. ‘’My swords…’’

The cook follows Zoro’s gaze towards the three swords on the kitchen floor. ‘’I’ll bring them, too.’’

It seems to bring Zoro enough peace of mind to go outside, clumsily opening and closing the door without dropping anything.

Sanji takes a moment for a quick breath. Holding the countertop with both hands, he sighs deeply, mentally counting to 10 to steady himself for the upcoming night. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Zoro- the opposite, actually- Zoro is the most loyal, trustworthy member of their group, not taking their captain into account. He’s the only one Sanji fully trusts in a fight, someone he knows he doesn’t have to protect, but instead can count on (even though he trusts their captain, obviously, in a fight he can get a bit carried away and distracted, but Zoro would never waver focus for even a second) .

At 10, Sanji opens his eyes. The kitchen is still spotless, safe for the swords thrown around, and he can’t help but feel slightly proud of his work. He quickly gets to work looking for his cigarettes, the only item apparently misplaced during the stressful day.

After a few minutes, Zoro barges into the room again with a full packet of cigarettes. ‘’Here,’’ he says, throwing the packet to Sanji. ‘’I got them from your nightstand. I’ll help you find your old package in the morning, okay?’’

Sanji nods, but before he can catch the package, Zoro has already turned around and closed the door. ‘’Rude…’’ Sanji whispers to himself, picking up the 3 swords to follow the swordsman outside.

Even though his eyes aren’t used to the dark yet, it’s easy to guess where Zoro planted himself. Sanji immediately walks over to his spot against the railing where Zoro likes to nap in the sun. During the night, the water droplets from the night air make the grass feel cold. A great contrast compared to the hot summer days they’ve been experiencing during the days.

Zoro holds out a hand to collect the swords Sanji’s holding. He immediately gives them over in favour of opening his new pack of cigarettes before dropping next to the swordsman, who already has his lips around a half-empty bottle of sake.

It takes a few tries to light the cigarette, but once Sanji feels the comforting rush of nicotine, he sighs deeply. Zoro wordlessly hands him a newly opened bottle of sake and a glass.

They sit next to each other, silently appreciating the soft swaying of the ship, the sound of waves crashing against the hull, the deep taste of sake, the cold grass under their hands and the sight of a million twinkling stars in the sky.

Once Sanji’s cigarette is smoked into the filter, and the only slight source of light it offered burns out, Zoro speaks. ‘’Tell me.’’

‘’What do you want to hear?’’

Zoro shrugs, putting the first empty sake bottle of the night on the ground. ‘’Everything.

Sanji can’t suppress the deep sigh he lets out. He repositions himself so he’s laying down, head on the grass, to stare at the stars lighting up the sky while he opens up his heart.

‘’I got wed to a daughter of Big Mom.’’

‘’Hmm,’’ Zoro hums, indicating he’s listening.

‘’She was beautiful, sweet, and perfect. At least, at first.’’ Another sigh. ‘’She was a baker, could you believe that? It’s like we were made for each other.’’

‘’So what happened?’’ Zoro asks, making it sound like it’s an easy story to tell. ‘’I mean, I know… I know you love us and all… But you also love women.’’

A soft chuckle escapes Sanji’s mouth. ‘’I wouldn’t give the crew up for a mere woman, you idiot. I had no choice, my father decided. In the end, she wasn’t who she said she was, anyway.’’ Tears prick in his eyes at the thought of her actions, but he swallows the lump in his throat. ‘’She wanted to kill me and my family.’’

‘’Nami said your family isn’t good.’’

‘’’Not good’ is an understatement, I’d say.’’ Sanji moves his head up in order to see Zoro’s reaction at his next words. ‘’Please, don’t use this against me, but… They abused me. I mean, I wouldn’t call myself abused, but I’d call their actions abuse.’’

Zoro doesn’t meet his eyes, instead looking out over the empty deck of the Sunny. ‘’If they abused you, you’re abused, cook.’’

Sanji hates the matter-of-fact way Zoro speaks sometimes. He makes it all sound so easy, when there’s so much more to some things, unspoken and hidden under the surface. ‘’I guess. I don’t know. I don’t really like to think about it.’’

‘’Have you talked to anyone about it?’’ Zoro asks, a new bottle accompanying his question.

‘’Luffy, Nami, Brook and Chopper met my family, but we haven’t really talked about what happened, no.’’

‘’I don’t mean what happened at Whole Cake, I meant the abuse.’’

‘’Oh…’’ Sanji swallows loudly. The grass feels moist against his fingers, he can’t help but glide through the soft strands. ‘’No.’’

Zoro picks up the pack of cigarettes in between them. He quietly opens it and offers one before Sanji’s lips. He closes his lips around the filter, thankful for the slight distraction smoking offers.

‘’You don’t have to, but I think you’d feel better talking about it,’’ Zoro mutters softly. ‘’And… I’d never hold something like that against you, Sanji, I promise.’’

Sanji can’t help but close his eyes at the mention of his name. He inhales deeply, mentally preparing himself for what he’s about to do.

‘’I know, I’m not sure why I said that.’’ The nicotine burns when he inhales, but the swig of sake right after cools the heat down. ‘’My father faked my own death. He has always hated me, but it got worse after my mother died. I must have been around 7 when he locked me in a dungeon in our castle, pretending I had died.’’

Zoro’s breath catches in his throat at Sanji’s revelation.

‘’My three brothers hated me, too. All I really remember from my childhood is the experiments my father forced me under, and the loneliness of the dungeon. I preferred the loneliness to the visits my brothers gave me, though.’’

‘’And your sister?’’ Zoro breaks his silence after a moment.

‘’Reiju was different,’’ Sanji responds softly, completely forgetting the walls he’s built around himself for the past 13 years. ‘’She would treat my wounds and visit me in the dungeon. She’d gift me flowers or books from the library to pass the time, but she could never speak up, or she’d suffer the same fate.’’

The stars above them twinkle beautifully, completely oblivious to the stories going on beneath them.

Quickly, the second cigarette is gone, too. Sanji pushes the smouldering end against the railing, promising himself to throw it away before he goes to sleep.

‘’It doesn’t really matter anymore. It happened, and I can’t change the past. Reiju helped me get away. I found Zeff thanks to her.’’

A hand on his hair makes Sanji jump, but Zoro’s shushing sounds immediately calm him down. ‘’Come here, it’s softer for your head.’’

Before Sanji can truly realise the situation, his head is resting on Zoro’s thighs, who’s still sitting upright against the railing. It feels softer, more intimate, and surprisingly, he notices he doesn’t mind.

‘’So your brothers and father are assholes, and your sister is useless. And your fianceé was a bitch?’’

Sanji lightly slaps the swordsman's leg. ‘’Don’t call her useless, you imbecile. She did what she needed to survive, which was keep quiet. I did what I had to do to survive, which was accept whatever was thrown at me.’’ Sanji grasps a couple of grass strands in his hand. It’s so quiet, even the sound of the grass breaking is deafening. ‘’My fianceé, Pudding, didn’t have it very well, either. She didn’t seem happy, and her mother sounded as horrible as Judge. I feel for her, even if I shouldn’t.’’

‘’Did you like her?’’ Zoro asks.

Sanji has to think about it for a moment. ‘’At first, I really did. She saw how my brothers treated me, she worried about me, we had the same interests… But once I realised she was faking it, I couldn’t get myself to look her in the eyes again… She deserved better than me, anyway.’’

‘’The fuck does that mean?’’

Sanji shrugs his shoulders, which is slightly hard while laying on Zoro’s legs. ‘’She was beautiful, well-mannered, sweet, rich… I’m just a pirate. I’ve got nothing to my name but our crew and my recipes.’’

Zoro’s hand finds Sanji’s chin, making him meet Zoro’s eyes. ‘’You’re beautiful, too.’’

A blush spreads over Sanji’s cheeks, all the way to the tip of his ears. ‘’I’m not. My eyebrows are the symbol of the Vinsmoke family. I’m not tall enough, my eyes are literally two different colours, my hands are full of scars and too rough to softly touch a lady, I’m way too pale to-’’

‘’Shut it,’’ Zoro responds, releasing Sanji’s face. He turns his head to the sky again, focussing on the shining specs of silver through the dark night. ‘’So you pissed Nami off?’’

Sanji groans loudly, immediately slapping his hand against his face out of embarrassment. ‘’Ugh, don’t fucking remind me.’’

Neither of them mention the hand that makes its way into the cook’s hair, gently petting a few strands behind his ear.

‘’I had to hurt Luffy,’’ Sanji sighs, both from relief of finally voicing his biggest regret and the feeling of the hand caressing his hair.

The short silence that falls over them makes Sanji cringe. What if Zoro sees the darkest parts of himself, and decides that Sanji’s right: he’s useless. Would the crew be better off with a new cook? He should’ve died at Whole Cake. You should’ve died at Whole Cake .

‘’Fuck,’’ Sanji whispers angrily, the third cigarette he was holding in his hand suddenly crushed.

‘’Calm down,’’ Zoro says softly, the hand in Sanji’s hair becoming more forceful. ‘’It’s just me. Don’t let yourself get carried away in your own head, okay?’’

Sanji doesn’t respond. The cigarette gets thrown on the ground. With shaking hands, he picks up a fourth cigarette from the package, almost dropping it altogether, before plopping it into his mouth with a shaky sigh. Blindly, the cook searches for his golden lighter. He lets out a frustrated groan when he can’t find it.

‘’C’mere,’’ Zoro says softly. Suddenly, the lighter flicks on right before Sanji’s eyes. He looks up, eyes meeting Zoro’s, before slowly moving forward to light his cigarette in the glowing heat.

The hand in the blond’s hair doesn’t waver, he can’t help but lean into the touch and sigh relieved. It’s embarrassing how touch-starved the cook has become, but really, when was the last time he touched anyone? Before Whole Cake, Chopper or Luffy would occasionally find his bunk during the nighttime, but all signs of late-night cuddles and hugs have been obliterated since the Whole Cake fiasco.

‘’Are you okay?’’ Zoro asks, once the cigarette is about halfway done.

Embarrassed, Sanji squirms his head against Zoro’s thighs. ‘’Don’t make fun of me.’’

The look Zoro sends him is one of genuine confusion, ‘’I’m not trying to, I promise.’’

The swordsman quickly downs a full bottle of sake before resuming his talk. ‘’I’m sorry, I’m not that good with words or feelings or anything. I’m just…’’ He sighs deeply, trying to find the correct words. ‘’I care about you. And it hurts to see you’ve been hurting over the past couple of days. But I’m not good with words, so I don’t know how to talk about your problems.’’

A warm feeling blooms in Sanji’s chest.

‘’It’s okay…’’ He mutters. ‘’I’m embarrassed about what happened with Luffy.’’

Zoro hums thoughtfully. ‘’I won’t judge you, or talk to you ever again about this if you don’t want to, but you can’t bottle stuff up like you’ve been doing, okay? I’m pretty sure you haven’t eaten anything in 3 days.’’

‘’I know!’’ Sanji whines pathetically, throwing away yet another burned out cigarette. ‘’I feel so guilty about everything! I don’t know how to talk to Luffy or Nami about it.’’

‘’Talk to me, then. We’ll figure it out.’’

The hand in his hair stills for a moment, as if unsure whether this crosses a boundary.

It’s quiet for a few moments, before Sanji manages to speak up. ‘’I… I fought him.’’

‘’Who, Luffy?’’

Sanji nods shamefully. ‘’I didn’t want to, but you know how Luffy is. I tried to tell him I couldn’t come back with him, but he refused. My father and brothers would’ve killed him in an instant if I hadn’t fought him… But he didn’t fight back.’’

‘’He didn’t?’’ Zoro asks. Subconsciously, he puts his second hand near Sanji’s cheek, softly touching the rough skin. Sanji leans into the touch thankfully.

‘’No. He… He just accepted everything. I didn’t have a choice, I promise, but… I hate myself for it. Nami saw every weak moment of it.’’ He leans closer into Zoro’s touch, closing his eyes to not having to see the swordsman’s reaction to his words. ‘’I can’t believe I hurt our captain like that. I shouldn’t be here anymore after that.’’

The hand on his cheek roughly grabs his chin. Sanji opens his eyes, surprised at the sudden intensity of the situation.

‘’Don’t say that,’’ Zoro says fiercely. ‘’You deserve to be here. Luffy wouldn’t have brought you back if what you did wasn’t justified.’’

Tears prick in Sanji’s eyes. He’s been beating himself up for so long, hating himself for his weak actions, but here’s Zoro: fully trusting that he did the right thing.

‘’I was so scared,’’ Sanji whispers, unable to tear his eyes away from Zoro’s gaze. ‘’I was so scared they’d find you and hurt you. I didn’t care if I died, I had fully accepted my death, but knowing they could hurt the crew was torture.’’

Zoro’s stare is intense, but his words are spoken softly and lovingly. ‘’You’re not dying on my watch, or Luffy’s, or anyone else on this crew, understand? You’re the heart of this crew, and if Luffy hadn’t been able to bring you back from Whole Cake, I would’ve gone there myself.’’

Sobs finally break through the strong facade Sanji had built. An intense feeling of relief washes over him as he finally lets his emotions run freely, meanwhile Zoro’s silent support doesn’t stop until all his tears are dried.

‘’Listen, okay?’’ Zoro redirects Sanji’s face to his after his sobs have finally died down. Both hands now hold his face, thumbs caressing the wet cheeks. They’re sitting next to each other under a million stars, backs against the railing of the ship they call home.

‘’You didn’t do anything wrong. You did what you had to do, and if Nami needs some more time to accept that, let her, okay?’’ Zoro says softly. ‘’No one understands what you went through but you. Don’t get hung up on other people’s opinions.’’

A lost sob finds its way through Sanji. ‘’T-Thank you,’’ he whispers, arms thrown around the swordsman’s broad shoulders.

He hugs back immediately, glad to finally see some emotion on Sanji’s face after days of emptiness.

‘’Thank you for telling me all of this,’’ he whispers into blond locks.

The cook just nods, too tired to verbally answer.

‘’And…’’ The slick smile on the swordsman’s face is hidden by Sanji’s hair. ‘’If you ever want to talk about anything… I can come to the kitchen every night.’’

Sanji pulls back from the hug, slapping the now-laughing Zoro across the chest. ‘’You’re the absolute fucking worst, you Marimo!’’

Zoro’s laugh turns out to be so infectious, they both end up laughing until the stars slowly fade out. Their conversation doesn’t stop until Robin walks up onto the deck, the low morning sun already shining, and Sanji realises he’s late starting breakfast.

Chapter 1 ☆ Chapter 2

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hoiststowline · 4 days ago

Text

into the mystery

part one prologue

Temptation floods a disorientated mind as to where it would be best to rest trembling fingers, other than numbly atop your lap as you survey the fast-moving scenery. Having not quite met Streetwise in its entirety, you fear he’d lose his cooler façade if you even as much as brushed his armrests. Such a reaction would be contradictory to his initial character, but a nagging voice chided that he didn’t give off that vibe, not at all. But as you encroached new territory, the outsider feeling never passed you by, understanding that any small thing you did could give them an untrue impression of yourself. Streetwise was friendly, overly so at some points, but you could not trust so easily, especially just hours after your heart nearly leaped from your chest. The trip hadn’t been very arduous, but curiosity got the best of you once you had entered the skirts of the forest, wondering aloud what this so-called talk was going to be about.

“I’m not sure of the specifics. Just wants to make sure you’ll keep your word and all that on-the-books scrap.” For some unreliable reason, that eased some of your rampaging nerves, sniffling quietly as he began to trail down a man-made path between the dense trees. “I tried to get you out of it, but he was pretty serious about at least having a quick talk. Don’t worry, he isn’t going to threaten you or anything.”

For some subconscious reason, you find you owe him thanks for trying anyway. “That’s okay,” You hum, straightening your shoulders before they deflate again, steadily losing your calm yet attempting once more to snuff it out. “I’ll just suck it up, get it over with, and we’ll all pretend like it never happened.”

Streetwise makes a noise of acknowledgment, but it isn’t a chipper one as if agreeable to your goal. Though you were very adamant about forgetting all of this after the chat with Hot Spot, he can’t find it in himself to agree, silently frustrated by your overall insistence. He wasn’t about to beg for you to stay, but he would voice that he wasn’t happy about your wanted departure. Admirable to your traits, he was growing fond of your company, be as little time you’ve shared as a gentle reminder of his outward irrationality. Often, he’s left to his own devices, finding it difficult to keep his head up when every desperate plan fails, not seeing a light in the never-ending tunnel.

“Right,” He drawls, dragging out each syllable. “Maybe, maybe not.”

Streetwise catches you shake off the confusion from a mildly exasperated expression, opting to push onwards without acknowledging his exchange, rightfully pensive. “So, is it just the three of you then?” You ask to avoid any unknown revelations; uncertain your already fast-beating heart could handle any more than three.

“No,” He doesn’t think it’s best to disclose such information, thinking if he spooked you enough, most of this would just be futile as the base was just ahead. “But the only bots here now are Hot Spot, Groove, and me. The others are elsewhere right now, likely completing their duties for the rotation. Hot Spot asked them to give us the space, he did not want you to be...”

He trails off, unsure what word is best. “Afraid?” You venture, a fair guess, but when you’ve realized what he just said, you balk, eyes wide. “More than three? How many?”

“Doesn’t matter, at least right now,” The reply was a little too curt than he’s used to, but he must steer this conversation back on track and not flare your vacillation any further. “We’re here,”

Streetwise pulls up to an area that runs up against the side of a cliff, rock encasing a large clearing almost on three sides in one large swoop, a massive hunk of metal sheathed with greenery and brush as if to camouflage it. It was blended in well enough, most certainly from above, and you couldn’t think of a time that anyone risked it this far into the desolate wilderness unless it was an outstanding hunting year, a feat that hasn’t occurred in twenty-five years.

“Holy shit,” You breathe, a familiar fear crawling up from the pits of a nauseated stomach to settle in your throat, nerves high. “I don’t think I can do this.” Never thinking in the first place that you could, it all became glaringly real the instant he began to slow down, realizing here is where you would walk into a harsh unknown.

“Of ’course you can,” The wheels come to a halt, stopping just shy of the entrance as the passenger door on your right swings open, wordlessly beckoning you out of the cabin. “You made it this far. If anything, I’m sure Groove wants to say hi. He hasn’t really shut the frag up about you since last night,” He would never tell him what he just witnessed, for it would only boost the motorcycle's already dangerously encouraged ego, but you turn back to the center console, eyes just a tad brighter, less petrified.

“Really?” You swallow, watching the seatbelt retract across your waist to settle against the side of the seat, swinging your legs over to the right to exit. “I guess so…”

Groove truthfully had not stopped talking since his arrival back to base, unable to keep the secret to himself and running his mouth to his roommate, Rook. Then, who in turn was annoyed he wasn’t informed about it, wanted to meet you and discern every detail from beginning to end. “Because it was supposed to be a secret!” Streetwise had huffed, unimpressed with Groove’s inability to shut the hell up. But to be completely honest, in the least with himself, his processor was wide awake with play-by-plays of your conversations and furthermore, the one that was to come with Hot Spot. With the confirmation that he had done the correct thing in some strange roundabout way, he couldn’t stop his mind from racing with ideas of how to get you to collaborate, or at the very least feel less distressed.

When you’ve hopped out of the vehicle and taken a dozen or so steps forward, Streetwise moves his transformation cog slowly, converting from his alt-mode to his bi-pedal mode languidly but promptly. “Besides, we haven’t met yet. Officially, anyhow,”

At the loud thud, you hastily swivel around, looking straight ahead for the police cruiser only to find it was no longer there, anxious that what you had guessed was about to occur was truthful. In place of the car, your neck tilts further and further back until you meet a set of unguarded cerulean eyes mortified that, somehow, he was larger than Groove. While somewhere in your distorted thoughts, it made strangely perfect sense, as the car was much bigger than the motorcycle, you suppose at the given moment, unexpected disbelief got the better of you. Staggering, you take three steps rearward until you can collect your spiraling mind, palm raising to cover your rapidly beating heart.

Streetwise tilts his helm to the side, unsure as to why you still looked so startled and terrified, thinking this was far more rational than a talking car. “What’s the matter? I really have an uglier mug than Groove?”

Thinking he’s serious, you hastily shake your head in disagreement, before swallowing the incoming round of tears to stutter a comeback. “No, no! I just…Hi, Streetwise,” You decide on, going to say it was nice to meet him formally, you suppose, when he visibly deflates, as if patiently awaiting your approval.

“Good.” It was foolish of you to assume that the exchange would end there because the next sentence he utters has all the hairs on the back of your neck standing upright. “I’ll be sure to tell him you think he has an ugly face-plate,”

Gasping, you scramble after him, trying but failing to keep up with his long stride. “I didn’t mean it like that, I meant-”

“I know,” He laughs, pressing a few buttons until the panel slinks over with an automatic hiss, himself grandly gesturing you inside first. “Just kidding,”

Taking his offer but demonstrating your hesitation, you shuffle into the expansive but uncannily well-lit space, eyes still glassy and a straining uncomfortableness running rampant. You have no expectations of the room, going to scan its contents when your gaze falls on a looming presence at the furthest wall, a full head and shoulder taller than Streetwise.

A shuddery exhale escapes you, hand coming to cradle your elbows as the mech at your rear takes in your horrified body language, unsettled by something. He follows your stare, finding your discontentment was from Hot Spot, the bot who’d sooner rip his servo off than cause you any harm, but you didn’t know that. The only idea you had of him was your own imprecise explanation of him, that and the short contact from the other night, at which he was arguably at his most overwrought, still not even toeing the line of being cross. Streetwise can only recall one time that he's ever seen him livid, even in all the epochs he’s known him, and that was when Blades did something careless that got him seriously injured.

Seemingly at your gulp, the figure turns around, eyes an intense crimson that gives off the impression he is nowhere near laidback, as Streetwise had so insouciantly called him. You cannot see his mouth, the same as you cannot see Groove’s eyes, but when you try to retreat, Streetwise had leaned down, prodding your back with a bent digit, escape route quickly seized from your line of sight. “Spots, this is y/n,”

To your dismay, he comes to a knee, still far too intimidating, a voice you would not associate with the bot rumbling from deep within his chest. “Hello,” It’s outrageously affable, not approaching any further as to give you ample room, only for you to close the outstanding distance whenever you felt the courage to do so.

Another round of tears brims to the surface, unable to do anything but offer a short wave in greeting. With a beat of silence, you fear this is all a setup, though you falter considerably when he restarts once more. “Streetwise, may I have a word with y/n in privacy?”

Streetwise pauses, digit still hovering above your spine as if to be a comforting notion, feeling his spark sink simultaneously. You seemed so scared, even if you didn’t understand you had no true reason to be, lest of Hot Spot, and it didn’t feel right to abandon you in a moment like this when he worked so hard to gain a sliver of your trust the entire ride here. Yet, Spots looks at him pleadingly, a soundless appeal to let him handle this, to get back on course without more unnecessary delays.

At his question, your shoulders jump to your ears, about to beg him to stay, but to your heavy dismay, he sighs behind you, standing up to his full height once more. “Yeah,” He can’t glance your way, because he knows the moment he sees your pleading eyes, he won’t be able to maintain his composure and abide by the leader’s request.

With a floundering stare, you watch as he moves down a hallway to your left, taps a button on a panel just right of the door, and disappears as the metal slides right back over. As if the snap of a finger, the only two that remain in the room are you and the daunting company just about thirty-five yards away, bowed, entirely still.

“I only asked him to leave because I fear I will be entirely transparent with you, y/n.” Hot Spot appears tired, an exhaustion present in his voice and frame that you had not perceived when meeting Groove or Streetwise. The boss appears to carry the weight and severity of the situation on his broad shoulders, a vast contrast to the optimistic attitudes the other two mechs had in your previous communications. You’ve yet to say anything, unconfident in how to approach him, but he carries onwards for the both of you. “I doubt that either of them has explained much to you, but that may be partially my fault.”

Injudiciously, you shake your head, sniffling some before finding your voice, albeit unstable. “No, I can’t say anything has been cleared up,” A hoarseness overtakes your words, causing you to clear your throat before continuing. “But why do you wanna talk to me? I swear, I won’t tell anybody, I hardly believe this is real and not a dream.”

You stiffen as he chuckles, sincere but soft all the same, a somewhat bolstering impulse. “Ah, well, though I must implore you to keep our secret safe, the intention of this meeting was not for that purpose,”

He speaks so gently, so carefully as if trying to console you all while having a simple chat, a multitasking clandestine. When you do not immediately reply, he tugs free one of his hands that was previously atop his knee, undoubtedly an awkward position for a mech so big, but remains inert. You shamelessly stare at it, surveying his every move, but only come to find he is extending a motion to you, vying to close the overkill distance set between your bodies.

It takes unfathomable courage to peel your shoes off the tile, eventually relenting and answering his call, notwithstanding unhurriedly. When you finally stand before him, swallowed by his shadow, you think he’s presenting a handshake as Groove did, but instead, ever so gently, he raises a finger to your face to push aside tears you had no indication were flowing freely, unbeknownst among the whirlwind. His touch is his featherlight as if used to being benign and dealing with rosy skin, but it all fades far too fast as his servo comes back to the perch he’d pulled it from.

“You have every right to be afraid.” That is almost validating, but you won’t proposition him the satisfaction of knowing that just yet. “But if I may be honest with you, y/n, we are in a very precarious situation. I don’t wish to implore such a heavy burden upon you, but if you would consider it, we may require your assistance every now and then.”

Blinking wildly, your hand comes to graze the cheek he’d just warmed, comprehensively perplexed. “Assistance? I don’t really follow you.”

Taking your riposte as not an immediate no, Hot Spot continues without a second thought, treading meticulous waters. “Our resources are cripplingly depleted. We have been on Earth for roughly three years with virtually no contact from our home, our mission is vaguely understood to us. If we do not find supplies soon, I am afraid we will have to enter emergency stasis.”

You don’t know exactly what ‘emergency stasis’ means, but the context clues are bold enough to grasp a quick conception. “But how can I help? This was all an accident, and I still can’t believe this is happening-” Stopping short, you pause to realign your tone as you wildly approach being loud and vexed.

“This is merely a…request, by no means an obligation,” Genuine, and effortlessly exhibiting that he’s not frustrated in your outburst. “Trust that I would not ask something of you if it was not my last resort. When Streetwise had disclosed to me of Groove’s misfortune, he did not see it as such. He saw you as a potential friend and ally, one that did not blow our cover the moment you spotted us.”

“What are you doing?” Streetwise freezes in place, leaning up against the door as Groove rounds the corner, apparently caught in the act of trying to listen in on the very lengthy conversation. It was entirely futile, unable to hear a single thing, audials strained greatly as Hot Spot must be whispering and your voice level was not loud enough to be picked up by his sensors. “Who’s in there?”

“Shut up,” He seethes, motioning him to be quiet, keeping his own voice at a hushed balance. “Hot Spot is talking with y/n, and-”

“y/n’s here?” Groove has no idea what stealth means, his shout causing Streetwise to lunge forward to cover the motorcycle's mouth with a servo before dragging him back over to the door, now in a headlock against his chassis.

The whole notion was causing your head to spin, feeling torn as you were in no position to deny them help, but feeling a demanding awareness of hesitance in immediately agreeing to do so. “I just need a moment to think about it…it’s not a no, it’s just a…maybe.” You decide, posture losing some of its left-over rigidity, thinking it best to go over your options, in the security of your own home and not here.

“Certainly.” He hums, overall pleased, an idea that sends a balminess to your chest, ambiguous as to why. “I thank you greatly, and I truthfully appreciate you even considering it. I will have Streetwise take you home.”

Alongside a deep breath, you nod, looking up at him with a small smile. “Sounds good.”

Just when everything began to settle, both Hot Spot and you advert your gazes to the door Streetwise had departed down, a lurid noise followed by a shout echoing, bouncing off the metal walls. You cannot see the blue mech’s mouth, but you could gather when he was smiling and when he was frowning, just by the lines beneath his eyes, and at this very instance, he was no longer pleased.

“What was-” You go to ask, but then the door slams over, meaning someone has pressed the button from the other side as Groove and Streetwise tumble out and clumsily hit the ground with a callous thud. Gasping, you can only stare as the cruiser keeps the motorcycle tangled in a stranglehold, Groove splaying a hand over Streetwise’s chin to try and keep him at bay, struggling to break free.

“y/n, hi!” As if they weren’t wrestling each other, Groove perks up considerably when his optics fall to you just across the room. Streetwise immediately relents, realizing that they were had, trying to scramble to stand, but it appears he couldn’t quite shove the bot from him as in an awkward position.

Dumfounded, you wave hello, but Hot Spot vestiges, unenthusiastic. “I do not recall either of you being told to stand there,”

Eventually, Groove lands on the floor with an oof, having been successfully tossed off Streetwise’s lap with little placidness. “Yeah, about that. I-”

He’s interrupted, but he can’t say he’s galled about it, almost overjoyed to find you terribly suppressing laughter, and not like the sarcastic one he heard last night. It’s light, giggles grappling to break free as a palm comes to your lips, not even correctly covering them as top teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“Sorry, sorry!” You try, but it’s futile, as a round of amusement erupts, the three of them staring at you mostly in incredulity, unconfident as to what you find funny, but they all relax when you provide some sort of explanation. “I just wasn’t expecting that, I- are you okay?”

When you look between the two of them, Groove is the first to recover, hopping to his feet and dusting imaginary specks off his plating, suddenly unable to look your way. “Yeah, totally fine.”

“All good,” Streetwise confirms, hauling himself back onto his feet. “So. Ready to go?”

You nod, a more permanent smile sticking on your face. “Yeah. I think so.” Turning briefly to address the still crouched Hot Spot, you wave tenderly, meaning the next sentence earnestly. “It was nice to meet you. I will get back to you, I promise.”

“Likewise. And I do implore you take as much time as you need,” He speaks so professionally, that you fleetingly wonder if he ever swears, but you’re charmed, nonetheless. “I look forward to hearing from you, either way.”

For some otherworldly reason, you know he means it. Proffering a thumbs up, you cross the floor over towards the exit, hands tucked within your sweatshirt pocket as Streetwise and Groove exchange a glance. Still not quite understanding your sudden shift in mood, the police cruiser shuffles after you, shrugging to himself as you wave goodbye to the white and gold mech on your way out.

“I wasn’t listening, just so you know.” Groove says trying to wiggle his way out of an incoming lecture, sensing it was a very high possibility. “I couldn’t hear a word you said. Was mostly getting my aft kicked that whole time.” Massaging at his side as if it would add to his unlikely story, a sheepish expression adorning his face.

Hot Spot only hauls himself off the ground, standing fully upright once you are entirely gone from immediate sight, his joints protesting harshly with audible creaks. It must’ve been no good on his junctions to hunch on himself like that but tried to make himself less unapproachable, for only your sake.

“I’m sure,” The leader muses, a sunnier air to his manner, yet addresses the motorcycle circumspectly, apathetic to his declination. “Although, I am shocked you did not fight Streetwise to take y/n home,”

“A definite brawl that would not be worth it, for starters,” He answers, a ghost of a smile on his face-plate. Firmly watching the exit after the door slides back over, alerting them both they had departed from the base, now outside. “And besides, I owe him one.”

“See? He wasn’t so bad, right?” Now out of earshot, the two of you now stand on the grass outside, yourself presenting a little less anxious, at least no longer quivering. Streetwise was right, he ostensibly always is, finding ways to relax your nerves even if you were doing the absolute most to keep them suppressed and not brought to the surface. “Makes Groove and I look like slagheads,”

“He was very nice,” You affirm, finding casual conversation no longer an insane feat. At a random bend of wind, you turn to the left towards the horizon, attempting to evade the strong squall. But by the time you turn around, the black and white sedan was in the spot Streetwise previously was, purportedly having not heard him. “But I don’t think he makes either of you look bad, you’re both cordial, in your own ways.”

“I wasn’t looking for a compliment, but I will absolutely take that one,” He laughs, passenger door propped open. “So, you’ll think about it?”

While he hadn’t heard what Hot Spot specifically said, he understood generally what he was going to ask, just by the conversation they had the previous rotation. It was a crapshoot, they all somberly knew that, especially with how largely jumpy you’d seemed, apprehension high. Something had changed, even if only marginally, and though kept to himself, he was proud you were to the lowest degree of uneasiness around him. But he could blame that on the sole reason that he’s had the most communication with you, yakked your ear off and you hadn’t shied away from it, at least not today.

“I will.” You slide inside the interior once more, taking immediate notice of how every action appears to be equable, the seatbelt clicking over and the door swinging shut. It’s like he took a crash course on the subject after he drove you home yesterday, with actions more calmer and less forceful. “I promised him I would.”

“That’s all I could ever ask for. I appreciate you even thinking it over,” An engine turns over, and he begins back down the path from whence you came, somehow in a cheerier mood. “Now it’s time to hold up my end of the deal. To take you to the store, as promised.”

“Thank you.” Hushed, but not out of anything other than a sudden gradual tiredness that has overtaken your mind. You want to fill the silence but can’t find anything more to continue, your head tilting gingerly against the heavily tinted glass.

“No need for thanks, it’s the least I can do.” The interior dashboard alights with his words, and this time, you catch the rearview mirror as it slides in your direction. “I wouldn’t want to bother you any longer,”

“That’s okay,” Completely stunned by your answer, he isn’t given time to recover before you continue. “You’re not a bother. I appreciate all the precautions you put into this,”

He can’t find a singular word in his internal dictionary that would convey his truest reaction, other than a stammered cough and a mumbled reply. “H-hey, no problem. Anytime.” Wholeheartedly meaning it, every single word.

#sul tf writes #transformers #maccadam #transformers idw #mtmte #protectobots x reader #protectobots #hot spot #streetwise #first aid #groove #rook #blades #transformers x reader

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fernandopiastri28 · 6 months ago

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quand c’est part 8?

I’m literally in love with it

quand c’est - part 9 ~ ln4 x op81

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

She places her hands on the table in between them, her fingers interlaced, “So, Lando, how are you feeling this morning?”

Lando chews at his bottom lip, pursing his lips to the side to break the habit, “Uh, yeah- fine,” He nods the question away, wanting to move away from it. Her look at him tightens, untrusting. He knows he shouldn’t lie- there’s no use of trying to get help if he’s not willing to accept it. “I’m tired,” He looks away for a split second, then back at her, “All the time,”

Warnings: sickness, illness, cancer

Lando stands in the doorway of his Monaco apartment, blankly staring in at the surrounding space. It’s weird to be back, as so much of his time is spent bouncing between races and soulless hotel rooms- his own brightly decorated and very personalised place just feels so out of place.

Oscar walks in behind him, shuffling around him cautiously as Lando takes up most of the door’s entrance, just standing completely in the way. “How’re you feeling?” Lando’s pretty much fully over what happened on the plane- the feeling and discomfort practically gone.

Lando takes a few steps forward, leaning into a wall so he can nudge his shoes off. “Uh, tired,” He hums mindlessly, his eyes bleary and his bones achy. “Kinda need to nap,” A smile stretches across his pink lips, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.

Oscar nods, rubbing his hand over Lando’s shoulder. He squeezes it slightly, like he needs something to do with his hand. “You just rest up- I’ll unpack everything,” Oscar replies, kissing Lando’s cheek softly as he walks past him and into the living room properly, carrying about three bags on him.

The way he says it makes Lando feel bad- like he’s being rather mocking and snarky. ‘ I’ll unpack everything’, like he’s frustrated that Lando is a useless, lazy slob. No consideration of how sick Lando is right now, just judging him because he feels like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Like he’s the one with all the hardships weighing him down.

He doesn’t understand that Lando would kill to be in Oscar’s position right now.

“Lans?” Oscar’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts, “What’s wrong? You’re looking.. very spacey,” He’s careful with the way he speaks to him, like one wrong word will send him teetering off the edge- even just his tone.

Which, technically, is true, because in reality- Oscar wasn’t being passive aggressive or sarcastic when he offered to clean up- he was being genuine in his attempt to help make Lando’s life just slightly easier.

“I’m okay,” He furrows his eyebrows, pinching the skin between them. “I’m gonna go now, gotta be up early tomorrow,” He forces another smile onto his face. He’s got his first consultation with the doctor in Monaco at 9 tomorrow morning, so he’s gotta be positive and ready for a chat, or the whole ordeal is just going to be far more unpleasant.

Oscar doesn’t look convinced, but he’s a naturally wary looking person anyways. “Alright,” The word brushes past his lips like a forced out noise, used only as a way to not stay silent. “Love you, Lans.” Lando gives a curt smile and mumbles the phrase back in return before scuffling off into their room.

He looks at the bed, then at the ensuite bathroom where the door is slightly ajar. He should take a shower- he hasn’t had one all day and he probably stinks of hospital and airport. Yet, he can’t quite manage it, so he strips down to his boxers and crawls into bed- falling asleep to the noise of Oscar moving around outside.

The next morning is an unpleasant rush to try and get to the appointment. Lando feels like he can’t move, his joints unmoving and his body heavier than a literal F1 car. It’s agony trying to move around, tackling the mundane tasks of getting dressed and brushing his teeth.

Oscar tries to get him to eat something for breakfast, but he pushes away every option. Oscar finally convinces him to have a strawberry protein shake- just something with a solid amount of calories and protein to keep him going for the morning.

The clinic is pleasantly decorated, on the beige side of the colour spectrum, but definitely nice. Lando sits with his left leg crossed over his right, his hands clasped in his lap- Oscar’s right hand in the mix of his own two. They both remain silent, out of respect for other patients and lack of conversation topics.

“Mr Norris?”

Oscar turns his head to look at Lando, “Do you want me to come in with you?” His voice is barely there, trying as hard as he can to stay practically silent. Lando shakes his head and stands up, wiping his sweaty palms down against his jeans before following the reception lady into a small room.

The door clicks shut behind him as he takes a seat across from the doctor. She looks mid to late forties, thick rimmed glasses and salt and pepper hair pulled into a tight bun. She’s rather pretty- reminds him of his own mother, who he really wishes was here right now.

It’s nice always having Oscar around- honestly. He’s the luckiest guy in the world to have him, despite being in the shittest situation. Yet, he misses being a kid, being carefree and cared for by his parents. Sometimes, when it’s really late at night, and he’s buried under masses of blankets with Oscar’s arms loosely wrapped around him- he feels like a kid again.

It’s embarrassing, but it’s true. Even when he’s got to front up and be brave to the world, pretend he’s okay after a crash or another race incident, even when he’s choking back tears in front of a million cameras, Oscar makes him feel like a kid- in a good way.

“Good Morning, Mr Norris,” The doctor smiles warmly at him, her long nails clacking against her keyboard, “I’m Dr. Button, I’m the oncologist who will be discussing all of your treatment plans with you,”

Lando leans forward, shifting around in his chair. God, he’s sweating all over, “Morning,” He smiles as warmly as he can muster up to. “You can just call me Lando,” He added. She extended her hand to him, which he shook- a strong and definite one. He wasn’t weak, he was a fucking F1 driver- he had mastered a good handshake that always impressed without fail.

She places her hands on the table in between them, her fingers interlaced, “So, Lando, how are you feeling this morning?”

She opens a small spiral binded notebook and a pen, noting something down under where she’s already written his name and a brief summary of his situation. “I know a few of these questions may seem very straight forward and obvious, but I’d just like to ask that you answer all of them truthfully as it helps us to understand you better,”

He nods, “Of course,” He slides his hands underneath his thighs, the rough material of his jeans rubbing awkwardly against his palms. “Yeah, all good,” He’s speaking for the sake of speaking, for the sake of not seeming incompetent or rude.

“So,” Her pen bleeds ink into the page as it lets it rest on the end of a cursive s. “Would you say the tiredness is physical, or mental?” Lando frowns, unsure of how to answer. She quickly notices his confusion and clarifies, “Is the exhaustion like you really need to sleep and lounge around, or is your mind just weak and over all of this?”

“Both,” He doesn’t give another moment of consideration to the question- it’s so easy. “I- I can’t pick which one I’d say it is more so,”

That statement is clearly worthy of a mention in her notebook. “Would you say you’ve noticed any other typical symptoms associated with brain tumours?” Lando’s embarrassed to say he really hasn’t done that much research into the usual symptoms that come along with his illness. He’s just been putting it off for a while, too scared to find out something that will throw him into a dark pit of depression.

“Uh, headaches?” That seems like a safe bet and they definitely have been pretty bad ever since he got the diagnosis and the days leading up to it. “I-” He puffs his lips out, blowing a raspberry. Oh god, why is he so awkward all of a sudden. “I don’t really know a whole lot about all of this, admittedly,”

“That’s all alright, Lando. That’s what I’m here for,” She makes a note down in her book, probably about how Lando’s a disorganised wreck who can’t even manage a quick google search to find out about the disease that’s fucking killing him.

He wouldn’t blame her- he is a fucking wreck.

They discuss his medical history next, which is pretty lacklustre. They move on to talking about his actual diagnosis from there, which he makes sure to pay extra attention to. He’s been lacking on giving any attention to his own sickness, leaving that to Oscar. He needs to take things into his own hands now.

His tumour is operable, but it's obviously cancerous- so it probably won’t just go away after the surgery. He’s probably going to have to go through a fair few rounds of chemotherapy before it’s gone, or atleast small enough. The type of surgery they’re going to be performing is a craniotomy.

The lists of surgery related risks seemed never ending; infection, bleeding, blood clots, seizures (at least more often then he already had), brain swelling, memory problems.

Paralysis. He’d never be able to drive again.

He’d become a shell of the man he once was- not aspirations, no goals, no will to live.

All throughout the time Dr Button spent discussing recovery, Lando goes blank. He reminds himself to occasionally nod and hum out yes every once in a while, just to keep up the illusion that he’s paying attention. In reality, he can’t quiet wrap his head around fucking paralysis.

Never walking again, never being able to touch Oscar again- feeling Oscar’s touch either. He’d never win another race, and he sure as hell would never win a world championship.

He’d- he’d rather die than see a future like that.

“I- sorry, where’s the bathroom?” He stands up, his heart in his throat and his heart throbbing. She gives a sympathetic look before guiding him to a nearby stall. He has to walk through the waiting hall to get there- meaning he sees Oscar on the way.

He doesn’t have to say a single thing as he walks past, Oscar shoots up, acting off instinct, and follows Lando. They get to the bathroom and Oscar helps Lando onto the floor, ignoring how unhygienic that probably is, before locking the door behind them.

“Breathe, Lando, breathe,”

Lando has to force it manually, guiding each inhale and exhale, the expanse of his chest with each breath. He has Oscar’s voice in his ear, asking him a million questions, Oscar’s hands on his trembling body, trying to find out what set off this reaction.

It’s a lot of things, it could've been anything- but he’s worse than usual this time.

“I’m gonna die,” Oscar’s features cloud over- dark and unreadable.

“No you’re not,” He’s insistent, then his voice wavers, “Did she say you would?”

Lando shakes his head furiously, shifting to lean his head on his head, half covering his forehead. “No- she, she just told me about all the- the risks,” He spat out, his body shaking against the cold, marble floor. He wishes he could melt into it, feel nothing for a bit. “I could be fucking paralyzed .”

He meets Oscar’s eyes, who looks confused as if he’s missing something, “That doesn’t mean you’re going to die though,” His fingers brush over Lando’s cheek, his knees awkwardly all up in Lando’s face from how he’s squatting.

“Paralysis is basically as bad as dying- I’ll never drive again, never walk, never have sex again,” His voice strains with the last one, like someone’s going to hear him say it.

Oscar turns a bit red, but smiles at the same time. It pisses Lando off- why the fuck isn’t Oscar taking him seriously? “And did she tell you that you’re gonna be paralyzed? ‘Cause the chances are very low- it’s really unlikely, Lando,”

Lando looks away, just buries his face further into Oscar’s shirt. “I don’t wanna be sick anymore,”

Oscar swallows hard, sitting down properly. Fuck, he doesn’t want Lando to be sick anymore either. He lives each hour and each minute in constant fear and anxiety. Lando’s everything to him- he was the boy that Oscar made a constant effort to be the first like on his instagram posts almost a decade ago, he was the boy that Oscar wanted to be more than anything when he was announced as a McLaren driver. He was the boy that Logan would tease Oscar over for having such a fat ‘celebrity crush’ on the youngest 2019 rookie.

Oscar is new for Lando, beginning in 2023 at their first race together. For Oscar, Lando’s been a constant- all the way from 2016.

He doesn’t know what the right thing to say in this situation is, so he stays silent, and presses his lips to Lando’s head.

And for now, it’s enough, it’s enough that they both care enough to stay fighting for one another.

#f1 #formula1 #formula one #mclaren #oscar piastri #lando Norris #sick fic #fernandopiastri28 #f1 2024 #logan sargeant #carlos sainz #landoscar #lando x Oscar

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vanillavengeance · 5 months ago

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i totally keep forgetting to ask everytime I reread mm and you might have said this already, but is the implication that leo donnie and raph killed the foot clan dudes? i really wouldn't put it past them

Not killed them in the moment, but…

They should have gone further. Left the state, even.

The Lieutenant and Brute screams turn more shrill, bruises and gashes stinging in the high winds. The harsh metal cables bite into where they’re wrapped, pulled tight by the snarling Red Turtle around their bodies. Neither could move even if they wanted to.

An edge of a building clips Brute’s leg and lets off a sharp ‘snap’. His scream curdles into whimpers but the purple drone doesn’t slow or go higher.

“This is your fault, you imbecile!” Lieutenant shouts over the wind, frantic. Brute whimpers and gives tiny, repeated nods.

Lieutenant’s not dumb, unlike his unfortunate companion. He should have insisted they get to the other side of the country.

Not that it would have helped if they ever found out. The Blue Turtle has those portals that make everything an irritating challenge.

They just barely squirm away from a different ledge, unable to see through the wetness gathered in their eyes. The sounds of New York blue around them and with how fast and haphazardly the drone is flying, Lieutenant wouldn’t be surprised if this is their third lap around the city.

Flying until their fingers are numb and their screams turn silent, Lieutenant has hope that it might be over. The drone slows as it flies over one of the waterways and he has the desperate thought that if they do meet their end here, at least it’ll have a good view of the city.

Alas, the Purple Turtles drone has other plans. Swooping low, it glides to a complete stop underneath the Brooklyn Bridge. Lieutenant blinks at the gentle sway and leans into the silent, limp form tied to his back. Brute had gone silent after his broken leg was once again smashed into a gargoyle, leaving him to figure out if they would be surviving this mess.

It’s always the youngest that’s the most protected. They should have known better after the Kraang to not mess with the Turtles, especially the Orange one.

They’re jostled into place suspended by a support beam and the little drone comes down to hover in front of Lieutenant. Using what little energy he has for a snarl, he stares down the steadily blinking red light. The robot lets out a tiny beep and then Lieutenant is blinded, eyes burning and wrenching a new scream from his throat. He can barely breath through the pepper spray overwhelming his senses.

Through his gasps of pain the drone beeps once more before it buzzes off. Lieutenant merely breathes through the stinging off his eyes and face, wondering if they’ll be noticed before he goes blind.

If this was it, Lieutenant has only one regret.

Why must he die trussed up like a turkey with the man who ensured their demise?

————————————————————————

“I’m just saying they’re probably going to be crawling back. If you had just let me deploy my prototype—“

“We ain’t killing people, Donnie. Not when I’m here. I could care less what ‘ya do in your free time.”

“I don’t know, I think Dontron might be on to something. They were still screaming when they flew off. Could have done with a few more slashes in the squishier areas.”

“I’ll say it again since it hasn’t gotten through your heads; I don’t care what ‘ya do in your free time.”

“Oh ho ho~, I read you loud and clear, big daddy.”

“Affirmative, objective has been made crystal.”

“After we get Mikey back, though, yeah?”

“Uh, duh.” “Agreed.”

————————————————————————

I wrote this off the fly so excuse any errors, but here ya go :D

#rottmnt #mystic malfunction #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt mikey #tmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of tmnt #tmnt 2012 mikey #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

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samgirl98 · 1 year ago

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Mending a Family 25/?

Prev | Next

Jason finds a new hobby; Jazz starts thinking about her future. Danny isn't completely miserable at school.

Danny didn’t want to admit it, but he was having fun at school.

Three weeks after starting school, Danny had settled in.

He had made a small group of friends. They could never replace Sam and Tucker, but they were fun. His dad had been right. (Not that he would ever tell him that.) Even if the courses were a bit boring sometimes, being around people his age was nice.

Still, he didn’t want to admit it out loud.

It helped that the school he was enrolled in taught differently to the American education system. Plus, he was learning French.

The school had a more hands-on approach to learning. He built machines and diagrams. Reading out loud could have been more exciting, even if they read at a more advanced level. During those times, he usually zoned out.

Danny found out he loved to draw. The most he had drawn back at his home dimension had been basic things or schematics of his inventions once he was older. Here, the school took time to get the kids engaged. They put different things in front of the kids and even let the children model for their classmates if they didn’t like drawing.

Right now, the teacher was teaching them how to make bracelets. It was nice to do things with his hands.

So, yeah, maybe his dad and Jazz had had a point, and school was good for Danny. That doesn’t mean he would tell them.

____

Jason had been bored during the day for the last three weeks.

Ever since Danny had started school, Jason had more time in his hands than before. In Gotham, he slept during the day after a long night of patrol, ruling his criminal empire and giving out necessities to the children and homeless in his territory.

Now, he would wake up, take Danny to school, and teach Jazz defensive moves and how to use knives and guns. That only lasted three hours. By ten o’clock, he was done and bored. Jazz refused to let him take care of Ellie the whole day.

“Go out, Jason. Find something to do, and stop trying to take my baby from me.”

So, here he was, walking around the little village.

That’s where he saw her, a 1967 red Mustang. The car had seen better days, but Jason could tell if he put in the time and effort, he could restore her. He jogged up to the little auto shop.

An older man was sitting on a rocking chair and chewing tobacco. His teeth were yellow, and he had wispy white hair. The wrinkles left deep trenches on his face. He smelled of car oil and tobacco.

“How much for the Mustang?”

The older man looked at Jason and spat the tobacco into a bucket. His greasy shirt read Hank.

“You sure you want that old junk, son? It hasn’t been used since 1986 and has been rotting on this parking lot since.”

“Yeah, I want it. How much?”

“Y’know, having someone fix her will cost a lot, right?”

“I know how to fix cars. I can have it hauled to my place and start fixing her there.”

Jason could go to old junkyards to find parts. He’d have to buy equipment, too; he didn’t have any at home. It’s not as if he didn’t have the money for such a project. He was actually getting excited at the thought of fixing the old car.

“If you’re sure, I’ll leave it at $600.”

“Deal,” Jason said.

Jason paid for the car with his card and waited for Hank to give him the keys. He looked in the car and was surprised to see it still had its original seats. Leather seats, too. As expected, it didn’t turn on. Jason saw that the engine was rusted.

Hmm, he would have to take it out and see if there were any salvageable parts. Now, to figure out how to get it home.

Jason turned toward the older man and noticed he had a nice array of tools and two lifters. An idea started forming.

“Are you willing to rent me a space so I can fix the car here? I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get the car moving, but I’m more than willing to pay.”

The man was chewing on more tobacco. Jason started fidgeting the longer Hank stayed silent.

“I wouldn’t use it when you need the lifters, and I’d still pay for a daily fee. I’d keep the car in the same parking space you’ve had it in.”

Hank spit out the tobacco and took out some more, “Sure, why not? Let’s talk price, kid.”

Jason smiled. He had found something to do.

Danny could tell his dad was happy when he picked him up from school.

“How was class today, chum?”

“It was nice, I guess. I painted some fruit and learned how the weather is predicted for the week. We even built our modal of a weather balloon.”

“That’s nice,” Jason said. “Anything else?”

“We started a new book. Charlotte’s Web. It’s not the worst.”

“Oh, I loved that book when I was younger.”

“Hmm,” Danny hummed, “What did you do, daddy?”

“I bought an old car that I decided to fix up. The man I bought it from has an auto shop and is letting me fix it up there. Maybe, if you’re interested, we can go on the weekends, and you can help me.”

Danny thought about it. He remembered all the times he helped Jack with inventions. He missed building things. This would be different, though. He wouldn’t be building weapons that could kill a race of beings. He would just be helping his dad rebuild a car. It was a normal father-son activity.

“I would like that,” Danny said, “I would like that a lot.”

____

After Jason left, Jazz started thinking.

In a few years, Ellie would start school, too. She wouldn’t have much to do with Ellie gone.

Jazz used to have dreams. She wanted to go to an Ivy School and study psychology. Those dreams had been dashed when the Fentons attacked her younger brother. Suddenly, she was responsible for a de-aged Danny and Ellie. She was glad for Jason’s help, but her whole world had become the children.

Jazz put Ellie down for a nap. She took that opportunity to look into online classes. After all, just like Jazz had been pushing Jason to do things for himself, she had to think about her mental health and find ways to stimulate her mind.

She’d bring it up with Jason to see what he thought.

She spent the rest of the day looking into online school programs. After all, she deserved to do things for herself every once in a while.

The elder Nightingales are finding things to do for themselves, yay! Anyway, I hope you like this chapter.

So I no longer have Covid 😃 but that also means I'm going back to work and won't be able to update as much as I had the past few days. Sorry about that. I will try to update one of my fics at least twice a week. No promises, though.

@itsberrydreemurstuff @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon @all-mights-asscheeks @ender-reader @fuyu-bitch @ravenswife

#Mending a Family #dc x dp #dp x dc

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geminiamethyst · 8 months ago

Text

Running. Chapter 46: Reunited

Chapter 1: click HERE

Chapter 45: click HERE

Chapter 46

THIS STORY ISN’T DEAD!!!

Sorry this took so long! I hit a bad block and I couldn’t get ANY writing done for this story. Not to mention I’ve been hyper-fixated on a completely different fandom which probably hasn’t helped. I can’t promise too many frequent updates but I’ll try my best. All I ask is for everyone to please be patient with me.

Hope you guys enjoy the chapter.

The atmosphere finally felt relaxed since the attack on the bus and sawmill. The moment that Gonta realised that his friends were in trouble, he immediately led them to where he had set up residence. It was deeper in the forest, in a cave that he was able to find. He made it as cosy as he could. A small fire pit for cooking and heat. Large patches of moss that he has grown in the cave to make a comfortable bed and something soft to sit on. He did cave drawings on the walls, some of insects and the others were of his friends so he doesn’t feel like he’s forgetting them. It was the perfect place to be when he needs to sleep. His guests couldn’t agree any more than that. Especially when he offered them some food made out of ingredients that he had gathered safely from the forest.

“Gonta didn’t know that this was going on. Sorry.” The giant spoke quietly, head hung in shame. He carefully passed around the soup for everyone, making sure that he didn’t go too fast and accidentally spill anything.

“Don’t apologise.” Kaito shrugged off. Man this soup smelled so good! He was literally drooling from the smell and sight of it.

“That reminds me. Everyone has been trying to contact you, to warn you. How come you haven’t picked up on the call?” Maki suddenly asked. Gonta suddenly looked like a kid being scolded by his parents. He turned his face away from the four of them, shifting uncomfortably from where he sat. Maki took a deep breath. Her tone became more patient. “Gonta, you’re not in trouble. Just tell us the truth.”

Gonta looked around at everyone. He glanced wearily at Mondo and Taka. They were new. He didn’t know them and he didn’t know if he could trust them completely. However, he knows Kaito and Maki. They were his friends, his family. They were all in the same boat together. He can trust them. And he knows that they won’t be angry with him. At least he hoped so.

“Gonta…sorry…” Gonta whimpered at last. Before anyone else could ask him to clarify his apology, he started to let out a huge wail. “Gonta broke Miu’s device! Gonta not sure how! Gonta thinks it was dropped or something like that! Sorry…”

If Miu finds out about this, she’s going to kill Gonta. Priorities. Get Gonta to calm down before he draws unnecessary attention from any animals. Especially if those wolves come back for another round.

“It’s okay big guy. The most important thing right now is that you’re safe.” Kaito insisted, getting up carefully to pat Gonta on the back. Was he limping? Maki shook that off. Pins and needles, that’s probably what was causing Kaito to limp. And the two teens tried to calm the giant down, Taka lost himself in some thinking. He and Mondo had been silent for most of the time while Kaito and Maki caught their friend up with everything. Since the attention wasn’t on them, it gave Taka more time to think things over. Gonta’s only form of communication was gone, that’s why no one could get in touch with him. However, something didn’t feel right. Then it was like something clicked in his mind.

“Kaito, can I see the other device that you have?” Taka suddenly asked. It wasn’t that unusual when everyone else thought about it. Everyone else was worrying about Gonta. With all this worry that had been building it was best to let everyone know that he was okay after all.

“Yeah, sure.” Kaito eagerly agreed, digging this his rucksack. He easily found the communicator and passed it to the Limitless that asked for it. “You know something about tech, Taka?”

“Not really, but I have a feeling that I know what’s wrong.” Taka answered with a small shake of his head. Everyone else watched as he started to turn it on. They all expected it to go like the previous times. Just a simple call and everyone else would answer. However, nothing happened. On the screen, it was like looking at TV static.

“Did ours get damaged too?” Mondo asked, almost in a panic. Truth be told, they were all involved in a fight with a giant snake. With the mill blowing up, it was a little likely that it might have been bashed about.

“I don’t think so.” Taka muttered, giving the dome of the device a small tap. Maki watched for a few more seconds before she realised what Taka was doing.

“He’s right. It’s not broken.” She piped up immediately. “Something’s jamming the signal.” Jamming the signal? Just like when Keebo tried to get a satellite image of the camp! There was a shield, a programme that blocked any signal that would be leaked to the outside. It was possible that it was stopping any signal from coming in too. That’s why Gonta’s device was no longer working for him. And that’s why it wasn’t working for the other either. They were close to the camp. They were so close that the programme was strong enough to reach them.

“Excuse me, Gonta? Is there by any chance a lake nearby?” Taka asked politely. He recalled a lake being on the old satellite image of the camp before it was closed down. If they really were close then they might be lucky enough to reach the camp while it was still morning the next day.

“Yes, but Gonta only just moved to this cave, so Gonta has not been there much.” Gonta answered eagerly.

“That means that we’re close enough to be near the camp.” Kaito was quick to state the obvious. They’re so close. And Maki will have a better chance of staying safe. She will be out of Orochi’s reach forever. And they can plan a way to stop the psycho from harming anyone else and saving the other Limitless trapped in the Underground.

“Then we’ll go there in the morning. That is, if you don’t mind us staying here Gonta.” Maki added, looking up at the giant hopefully.

“Not at all.” Gonta smiled like a kid at a Christmas. “Gonta happy to have friends over. It’s been pretty lonely.”

#kaimaki #running fic #limitless sequel #kaito momota #maki haruwaka #gonta gokuhara #kiyotaka ishimaru #mondo owada #ishimondo

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kainicowrites · 1 year ago

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Twisting Fate pt. 4

The night passed on, pleasure filling every moment until we were too spent to continue. Saga laid on her back and I curled into her side, resting my head in the crook of her neck. We laid there, enjoying the sound of the other breathing. The feel of Saga’s fingers running up and down my arm was so soothing, I nearly wanted to fall into a slumber for the first time…ever.

“Andi, you are unlike anyone I have ever met.”

She had no idea how true that was, but she couldn’t know that. “I am nothing exceptional.” I craned my head up, a smirk in my eyes. “Just another beautiful woman.”

“Yet I have never seen someone as beautiful as you.”

I may be a goddess, but the sincerity in her voice made my cheeks burn. “I’m sure you will come across many gorgeous women on your travels.”

“And none will compare to you.” She traced lazy circles on my hand.

“Oh, hush. You don’t even know me.”

“I’d like to.”

I leaned further into her touch, savoring the warmth, “And I, you.”

“What would you like to know?”

“To start, everything. I think I’d like to know everything about you.” I spoke in a hushed tone, unfamiliar with being so vulnerable.

She chuckled, “That would take quite a while and I am not sure you’d still like me in the end.”

“Who says I like you now?” I gave her a mischievous smile and she feigned hurt. I continued, “But we could start with what your actual deepest desire is.”

“You don’t believe it’s you?”

“I believe you may desire me, but I don’t believe I’m your deepest desire.”

She went silent for a moment, thinking. “I suppose I’ll humor you. Realistically, I want nothing more than to protect my clan and make a better life for them.”

“Is that why you’re going on this trip?”

“Yes. And because I believe there is a better place for us out there. A place where we can thrive and live in peace. It’s something my clan hasn’t known since it was formed. Some people here don’t believe a woman can be a Jarl. Despite plenty of evidence to the contrary. Change is as slow moving as the ice here.”

There was a note of bitterness that I hadn’t heard yet. The concept of women somehow being lesser is completely ridiculous. I was certain that most of those men believed in the gods and there are plenty of powerful goddesses. So, how did they rationalize spewing hate toward women?

“I’m sorry that you are being forced out of your home because of hateful men.”

“My home is with my clan, everything else is just a place. We can make a home wherever we go.”

I smiled to myself, “That is a beautiful way to view the world.” A breath, then, “You said that was your realistic desire. What’s your impossible desire?”

A solemn tone, “To meet my mother.” When I looked at her curiously she explained further, “She died giving birth to me.”

My heart cracked. I never had a true mother or father, but I could imagine the pain of losing one would be unbearable. “I’m sorry for your loss.” When she didn’t reply for a moment, I asked, “What about your father? Is he still alive?”

Some dark emotion passed in her eyes, “I hope not. Though, he was when I last saw him fourteen years ago.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

I could feel her head shake in response, “You’re not. It’s just…complicated.”

“You don’t have to tell me. I understand if it is personal.” I didn’t want to pressure her to share more than she was willing, especially considering that I wouldn’t be able to tell her much, if any, of my truths. In all the lovers I’d taken over the years, I had never told any who I really am.

“No, it’s okay. You want to know everything about me? I might as well start at the beginning. Maybe I can tell you my whole story before the sun rises.”

I propped myself up on my elbow, “I’d love to hear your story.”

She mirrored my movement, “My story starts in the fall twenty-two years ago. I was born to Viggo and Yrsa, but it was my sister, Kajsa, who truly raised me. From everything she has told me of my mother, she was a remarkable, kind woman. According to Kajsa, even my father was a gentle, caring man until she died. But, the moment she passed into the next world, he changed. He always blamed me for her death, which only worsened when he was drunk. Which was all the time. You see this scar here?” She pointed to the scar hidden behind the smeared rune on her forehead. “You might think it is from being a badass warrior, and I have plenty of those, but this one is actually from my father shoving me face first into our kitchen table when I dared to request that I train with one of the warriors in our clan.”

Fury roiled in my stomach and I wished I could go back in time to change fate. To cut his thread instead of her mother’s.

She sighed, “Anyway, Kajsa took matters into her own hands when I was eight years old and we each packed a bag, fleeing in the night to find a new clan. One where we could both train as warriors. We found one eventually. The jarl didn’t think women could lead, but allowed them to train, viewing any body as a bolster to his ranks. After ten years in the clan and never moving up, Kajsa, a few dozen others, and I left to start our own clan. When it was time to choose a jarl, my sister nominated me and many others supported her. Though I was only eighteen at the time, I was officially chosen as Jarl, with my sister as my right hand and most trusted advisor.

“We found land and started our settlement, but in the past four years, we’ve had to defend it more than we were able to build and expand. I didn’t always have the following I do now. Having gained a reputation fighting and killing the male jarls who dared try to take our land. For being a female jarl. For being a safe-haven for those who need a place to start over and teaching them skills to survive. But now, it feels less and less safe. With a growing reputation, comes a growing number of enemies. Then six months ago, I heard Ama’s call for those looking to do good in the world, I answered. And here I am.”

As she finished her story, the room became awash in the beginnings of the early morning sun. I got lost in the barren mountains of her eyes. I knew every language in the worlds, some lost, and still, I could not find the words to say to such a tragic yet beautiful story. I saw her in a way I had never seen anyone before. Through all of my immortal years and lovers I had taken, they were always an escape or a way to experience pleasure, but her…she was different. None of them cared about others’ well-being as much as it was clear she did.

Even my sisters, who were responsible for every life, didn’t care as much as Saga. They preferred to treat beings as a game. Deciding on a plan and using me to ensure beings follow their predetermined paths. But Saga has been fighting against it. Taking in humans who are in need and teaching them. Guiding them. Protecting them.

Guilt coiled around my stomach, squeezing tight.

She must have seen the expression on my face, “What’s wrong?”

I quickly blinked away those thoughts, “Nothing. I just- the thought of maybe never seeing you again…”

A small, sad smile upturned the corners of her mouth, “I know…You could come with. I always need good fighters.”

“I wish I could. And how do you know I’m a good fighter?”

“I saw the way you wore that armor and it’s all in the way you walk. Like you know you’re never in danger. It’s alluring.”

Before I could figure out what to say, Saga sat up, “Thor’s balls, I need to meet my hersirs and make sure everything is ready for our trip.” She was instantly putting her tunic and armor back on. She looked back at me, “So what do you say? Up for an adventure with me?”

I thought about every choice I had ever made. Always for others, never for myself. I genuinely couldn’t remember the last time I had done something for myself. To make me happy. That was never the job, but in one night this woman had made me question if that job was worth doing. If there was something more, something better, out there for me.

Saga continued to get dressed, buckling on her sword belt, “Absolutely no pressure. But you would be welcome.”

Throwing caution to the wind, “Yes.”

She twisted toward me where I was still lying naked on the bed, “Yes?”

I looked deep into those chocolate eyes, “I could use an adventure and you have no idea how little risks I’ve taken in my life.”

“But you don’t even know where we are going.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, “Anywhere is better than here. You don’t think I’m still a spy, do you?”

“I’ve known enough bad people to know how to tell the difference. And you are good. I can see it.” I blushed, looking away, but she caught me by the jaw and tilted my head up to look at her once more. “You are. I’ve known it from the moment we met.”

“Thank you…”

“Now, would you like to get dressed and meet my crew? If you really want to come, meeting them is the first challenge.”

I straighten my shoulders, “Challenge accepted.”

#queer #queer writers #short fiction #wlw #norse mythology #short story #fate #sapphic #fantasy #wlw love

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belphegor1982 · 2 years ago

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I posted the last chapter of this on AO3 just before bed and completely forgot to post it here as well. Typical bird-brained Bel. But here it is now if you wanted to read it and missed it! I’ll ad the AO3 link in a reblog, as usual :o)

Jigsaw Pieces

Chozen, uneasy

Daniel, adrift

Amanda, sleepless

Sam, shaken

Johnny, fixing things

Daniel, not alone

Daniel can hardly believe his eyes.

Seeing Johnny and Chozen side by side, Robby flanked by Miguel and Sam, Anthony behind his sister smiling proudly – it’s just surreal.

Sure, they’re not literally all here; there are a few gaps where students should be if this were a class (like Chris, or Mitch, or Demetri who mentioned something about getting a summer job last time), but even if the group isn’t complete, Daniel’s surprise is.

These past ten minutes have been one hell of a roller-coaster. He can still feel the warmth of Amanda’s hands holding his, the breath that rushed out of him when he stepped into Mr. Miyagi’s room for the first time in eight years, the tightness in his chest that hasn’t really had time to loosen yet. Mr. Miyagi kept his most painful memories in a box, on a cabinet, but at least he was brave enough to open that box from time to time. Even after the burial, even after almost a decade, Daniel has refused to open the door to his bedroom. His own memories of Mr. Miyagi are everywhere – on the wall of his home dojo, in the power and grace of his daughter’s karate, in his own soul – but that empty room is the last, final proof that the man himself is gone forever, and facing this fact for real takes a strength Daniel’s never felt he had. Until ten minutes ago, when Amanda gently guided him in front of that door and said I’m right here. And stood aside silently, her presence both supportive and unobtrusive, while he took in everything – a thousand memories, a thousand reminders of what used to be and can never be again.

The last bonsai Mr. Miyagi was working on has lost much of its original shape, but it’s still alive. Amanda must have come in regularly to water it in the past eight years.

“Is it gonna be okay?” he hears himself ask across thirty-four years while staring anxiously at a different bonsai.

Mr. Miyagi answered calmly then, “Depends. If roots strong, tree survive.”

Between his dogged nurturing and the strength of its roots, the bonsai in question lived, and still thrives to this day. Sometimes Daniel wonders how old it actually is. But then Mr. Miyagi was always good at taking care of lost causes and pulling off miracles.

Mr. Miyagi was also the only one able to defeat both John Kreese and Terry Silver, and easily at that. Over the past week Daniel has sometimes wondered what he would have made of the current situation. He has wished, more than once, for his old mentor to make things right again, or even just to have his back like he never failed to even when Daniel was pretty sure he didn’t deserve this unwavering support. Maybe he would have approved of Daniel’s capitulation – maybe he would have advised Daniel to step off a lot sooner, before kids started to get hurt – maybe he would have urged him to keep fighting. But you can’t ask a dead man what he thinks. You can’t ask a dead man anything. Tugging on a ghost is as useless as trying to catch the wind.

Except…

Mr. Miyagi did leave something of his here, and not just in the mementos left untouched and the warmth of the little house, the wood and the shoji walls. Of all the people standing in front of Daniel in the bright summer sunlight, only two knew him well (Amanda and Sam), three met him in person but only have sparse or superficial memories of him (Chozen, Anthony and Johnny), and the rest only know him from a picture on the wall and second-handed accounts. Yet it feels like he’s here, standing next to Amanda, smiling fondly. Like he never really left.

Daniel is hit by a memory, like a flash, of Mr. Miyagi and him going out to fish the day after the Obon festival. No training, no karate of any kind – just the two of them, a little boat in a secluded Okinawa inlet, and companionable silence in the sun. Not that Daniel would have been up for much more at that point; his fight with Chozen the night before had left him black and blue and utterly drained of energy. The stakes probably had a lot to do with it. Daniel had never had to fight for his life before.

“I forgot to thank you yesterday,” he said at some point, and Mr. Miyagi turned to him, eyebrows raised under his hat.

“For what?”

“Well, you kinda saved my life with that little drum back there. If you hadn’t… You know. I think the outcome would’ve been very different if you hadn’t been there.”

Mr. Miyagi twisting the little handheld drum back and forth had not only reminded Daniel of the eponymous technique. The lone reedy taptaptaptap had grown into a loud clatter as everybody else picked up on it and banged their own drums, a clear show of support that had confused the hell out of Chozen. Daniel, bruised and bloodied and almost out of hope, walking the wire between almost laughing and almost crying, had drawn strength from his last reserves from that sound – and won, somehow.

Mr. Miyagi didn’t reply right away. He adjusted his fishing rod across his knees and nodded.

“Drum not save life, Daniel-san. You down, you pick self up. Drum just remind you… Not alone. Got people in corner. And me.”

And then, just as Daniel’s throat went a little tight, M. Miyagi tilted his head to the side and added with an eh face, “Figure of speech.”

Daniel grinned at that.

“Well, thanks for bein’ in my corner. And, uh – you know I’m in yours, right?”

“Hai.” Mr. Miyagi’s eyes softened. “Miyagi know.”

They’d shared a smile, then gone back to gazing at the sunlight winking on the sea. It had been a good day.

The people standing in Mr. Miyagi’s garden right now could all be holding pellet drums. The two situations are night and day, literally, but the emotions rising in Daniel’s chest are very similar.

Mr. Miyagi may no longer be in his corner, but that doesn’t mean he’s alone – not anymore, like Sam just pointed out.

All the students – plus Amanda – bow as one, like they’re waiting for the lesson to begin, like it hasn’t been almost two months since Miyagi-Do (and Eagle Fang) shut down. Eli, Robby, Abe, Sam, Bert, Miguel, all of them – even Anthony, for the very first time. Sam’s smile is beaming when she straightens up, her eyes very blue.

Daniel looks at Chozen on his left, a silent question – though what he’s asking exactly, he’s not sure. Chozen answers with a determined nod nonetheless. Its meaning is clear: both vow and encouragement. We can do this, all of us. And the thing is, Daniel is starting to believe him.

He hesitates for a half-second before turning to his right and meeting Johnny’s eyes. But the expression in them is familiar, if always surprising to see on the face of his old enemy/rival/frenemy/friend. The last time Daniel saw it, Kreese had just thrown the gauntlet at them, and Johnny cemented their alliance of circumstance with three words – We won’t lose – and a look that had helped quiet down the snarling mess in his chest of fury, fear, and retrospective horror at what he’d almost done. Because if Johnny Lawrence, cold and grim and with the bruises from Kreese’s stranglehold just starting to form around his throat, could stand tall and steady and say “we”, after everything, then perhaps all wasn’t lost.

Johnny doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. His small nod and the look in his eyes speak volumes. And just like that night last December, Daniel relaxes a fraction, with the beginning of a smile this time.

They bow to their students simultaneously, the three senseis, and as Daniel straightens up he can’t suppress a smile that seems to come from somewhere deep in his chest.

And a very distinct feeling of missing pieces, finally falling into place.

______________________

The end! I really hope you enjoyed this little story. I did writing it, even (especially) the parts that hurt :’) Please tell me if you did!

(Also I couldn’t help bringing Mr. Miyagi back a little, if only in flashbacks 💜)

#cobra kai #fanfiction #my stuff

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kandadiff · 2 years ago

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Van Der Wulff : Love & Marriage

11 o’clock came and went and a cold anxiety set over most of the girls in the house. Especially when parents started to come into the house. After breakfast draven quickly got dressed, placed her phone on loud, and sat in the living room waiting for us to come in. Lighting a cigarette to pass the time. When we didn’t return by 11, her mind went deep in thought.

While it wasn’t normal I would just disappear to nowhere without telling anyone. But sometimes I did, but always with someone. She didn’t know if Damien and I made up, if so then maybe I was with him? But why wasn’t I here right now? Maybe Negan? Or I could still be with my parents and if they came and I was with them she would feel ridiculous for worrying so much.

As for you, this was 100% strange. You wouldn’t be with your parents. You couldn’t last alone with your mother or stepfather and as for your father. You could only stand him in hour intervals. No, maybe you were with Xavier and sent him last night to get something for you - but why would he go in through the window? If you were with him - you had keys. And if you were with him why was your phone dead? He lived in the dorms and nearly everyone had an iPhone charger. Plus she texted SOS and it was left ignored. That wasn’t normal.

Katyas family was the first to arrive and immediately noticed the mood shift in the house. “❄️what’s wrong?” He asked his daughter. She was now dressed in an dress and due to her nervousness she was clutching at the bottom of it, wrinkling the cotton fabric. She quickly filled her father and sisters in.

“You should start looking for them.” He said and Draven nodded putting out her ciagrette and standing up.

“I’ll help!” Marie, Katyas younger sister by 2 years piped up.

“Oh my god!” Naomi rolled her eyes walking out of the kitchen with presents in her hand. “Why just want to spend Christmas away from us. Don’t be so clingy, Draven.”

“Excuse me?” Draven’s icy tone caused Naomi to backtrack.

“I-I mean like, if they want to spend time away from us just let them.” She shrugged “I’m going to Namjoons.”

“It’s not about us spending time with us” Draven snapped “it’s about making sure they are okay.” Naomi looked down and sighed mumbling a pathetic apology. “You’re going to Namjoons? Check if either of them have been there.”

“Why would Adi be there? She hasn’t spoken to them since before they left? And Hoseok and Yoongi have a girlfriend- Kay wouldn’t here there.”

“Just check!” Draven snapped harshly at her causing Naomi to jump. She sucked her teeth and moved through the living room and out the door. For a moment it was silent.

“I’ll check too.” Katya said pulling out her pink phone and tapping a few buttons and walking to the kitchen. The doorbell rang and everyone looked towards the enterance. Makayla answered only to see Gabrielle De Silvia, her husband and Maddy on the other side. They all wished her Merry Christmas with smiles which quickly turned to puzzlement when Makayla asked if you were with them.

“No” Gabrielle’s smile faded. “She’s not here on Christmas? This is a family holiday! I slugged myself on a 10 hour flight to get here from France and she can’t even be here to greet her mother? Where is she? With that useless boy? Oh my goodness. Madison!” She called out to Maddy who was right next to her. Maddy turned “call the boy and tell him to get her over here right now! This is completely ridiculous.”

Draven rolled her eyes and grabbed her jacket. “We’re going to go look for her.”

“I’ll wait here.” Gabrielle waved her hand as though dismissing the girls and placed her perfectly wrapped presents under the silver Christmas tree. “I’ll wait for her here even though she is being completely disrespectful by wasting my time.”

“Other people are coming. Parents.” Draven said her voice dripping with attitude. “Can you let us know if her or Kay show up when we’re gone?”

“I guess.” She shrugged sitting on the couch “do you girls have wine? I need a drink.”

“I will.” Katya’s father nodded. “I’ll make sure you parents are entertained as well.”

“Thank you papa.” Katya said walking out the kitchen her phone in her hands.

“Ladies! Drinks?” Yo ur stepfather asked looking around.

Ignoring your parents, Draven grabbed her keys, passed Makayla and Katya theirs before moving out the door.

~ Mexico ~

Luther and I sat in silence. He had brought me food that I hardly touched. He tried to prove he didn’t do anything to it by eating some of mine but I couldn’t bring myself to eat. I just drunk the tea he’d given me, he said it would help with my throat which felt raw from all my screaming. We were sitting in the kitchen, though it offered me no freedom. Around my waist was a thick metal chain clicked in place with a simple that pinched into my skin if I moved to much. It was attached to the guest room via hook built into the floor. I didn’t ask why it was there - I didn’t want to know. Besides pinching my skin it wasn’t long enough to reach any door but the bathroom and the guest room. He had told me that himself when he put it on me.

“Just for now. Just for upstairs.” He said petting my head like some wild animal he had caught and was trying to domesticate. “I can’t fully trust you up here yet. But I promise it is temporary.” I said nothing in response.

While he ate and I drank i familiarized myself with the lock, touching it under the table trying to compare it to locks I’ve picked before. I was sure I could pick it with the hairpins but given the weight of the chain I’d have to do it quickly with as little noise as possible. Which in itself was difficult.

When he decided we were finished eating, he took my plate and cup and washed it in the sink while he whistled an old jazz tune. I focused on the lock. I did recognize the type but I would have to break both Bobby pins to even get it open, if it could work. Something sharp would be better, like a knife but he’d never give me one. And what if it didn’t work. I would only have 4 Bobby pins left. Besides he said this was only for upstairs. In the basement I could move around more and I could expirement with the lock there. Though he knew the navigation to the house better then me. He could more easily catch me if i came up the basement rather then up here. Plus by the lack of windows in the basement I had no way of knowing whether it was night or day- or whether he was asleep or not.

“You’ll just hurt yourself if you try and get out.” He said watching me and pulling me from my deep thoughts. For a moment I wondered if I accidentally spoke outlaid but then he motioned to the chair handing tightly from my waist. “The more you pull on the lock the tighter the chains get.” I dropped the lock, it fell into my hip and I winced. He wiped his hands of water and sat next to me. “Let’s talk, okay?” He spoke softly as though I was a toddler. I nodded.

"I want to explain myself further." He folded his hands and smiled at me. It sent a shiver down my spine. "I love you." he said watching em closely. I just kept looking at him refusing to give him anything. "And I was 100% serious. When I think of the future all I see is you and me. Maybe a couple of kids running around. I'd let you name them" he smiled as though it was a joke I was supposed to be in one. "Since you know I've had mine."

"And about Naomi? and your wife?" I tried hard to keep my voice level. Just stating facts and nothing more.

"Once she sees how in love we are, she'll come around. She's a good girl, she'll welcome you. I know Eli and Renee will. They knew my marriage with Whitney has been over for a while." His smile returned. "I've already signed and sent out the divorce papers to Whitney, she should be getting them in a few days. Then as soon as we receive them, we'll get married. Theres a small church near by and I've already gotten you a dress. I want to do it right. I want to be divorced before I take a new wife." My stomach lunged, thankfully since I had no contents in my stomach I managed to keep it down. He waited for a response but I didn't give him one. I was unsure if I could without a burst of emotion so playing with my hands under the table. I waited for him to continue. "Of course I want to do it right. And I'd like for you to walk down the aisle with a smile on your face and for you to be as excited as I am. for you to be as in love as I am." He reached for my hand but I jerked backwards out of his touch.

"Love? Love? How can you say that to me?" I was unable to hold my tongue. My voice shaking as I spoke and I felt tears burn my eyes. A mix of rage and sadness covered me like a blanket and I was using it as an armor. "You kidnapped me, you chained me up like some dog, drugged me, bashed my head into a wall and threw me into a basement. You took me 1000 miles from my family, from my friends, with no where and expect me to love you. You are a sick man and I feel sorry for you."

He took my words in, and for a few moments the world around us was silent. Until he yanked down the chain that bounded me to this hell house. The chain painfully pinched my skin and I yelped as I fell down on the chair. He tightened his grip and I tried to hide my pain, digging my nails harshly into my legs. He twisted it until I let out a pained wail and he clapped his hand over my mouth and nose cutting off my air.

"Feel sorry for me? Don't flatter yourself, you little bitch! You should feel sorry for yourself because if we don't get happily married by the time Whitney processes those fucking papers! Then you will just disappear here." He shoved me back. The chair skittering across the floor and into the kitchen counter. I quickly stood up and he stood up in front of me. He towered over me but I wasn't backing down. "Wipe that look of your face, even if I won't do it there is plenty of cartels looking for pretty girls to have fun with. Plenty fo brothels that would pay a lot for a pretty American girl."

"You wouldn't." I spat at him.

"Why wouldn't I?" He leaned down to me, his black eyes burrowing into me. "If you don't marry me, you'll be a stranger. And I don't care what happens to some whore I can get a couple of thousands for." We kept up eye contact "Think about it smartly, you brat" his voice dug into my ears like an unwanted parasite. "Think what they'll do to you. They will use you until you're bleeding out of your eyes and then after - if you're lucky they'll kill you. and don't bother trying to speak your fucking Spanish and convince them of anything. I already scouted out a few very interested men."

"How do you know they won't turn on you?" I hated how my voice trembled. "Kill you instead."

"Because I have connections that you don't have here, snowflake. I am the big bad wolf and you are in my territory."

The wave of hopelessness overcame my entire body and I broke looking at the wall behind him. I could no longer stop the tears that now flowed fretfully from my eyes. I needed to think of a plan but my mind felt like a tangle of wires. My thoughts all crashed into one another making a huge cloud of despair in its wake. "Then I guess... we're getting married." The words felt foreign in my mouth like I was watching myself say it.

"Happily?" he was baiting me but I didn't respond. I knew it upset him, his body became stiff and he pulled me toward the basement door. I started to scream again and he shoved me down the stairs. He yanked at my hair and squeezed tightly on my wrists until he threw me inside the room locking the door behind me. And shamefully I cried again. It didn’t quite hit me until then that he had no intention of bringing me back home safe. The hypotheticals he raised weren’t fantasies, everything he said so far was his plan and I had to get out.

~ Greece ~

Wandering the grounds of the mansion proved to be uneventful. Most of the servants seemed scared to look at you and every time you asked for something they either pretended to really couldn't understand you.

You searched nearly every room for a phone but you found none. No phones, no computers, only TV's that played everything in Greek. You managed to find that maid from earlier (who's name was Catherine) and asked her for a phone. She told you simply "sit still, girl. Your fiancé will be home soon."

You finally settled by the pool, looking over the ocean thinking of everyone back at home. How long would it take them to notice you were gone? Were they looking? Would J tell them you left with Shawn? How would Xavier react-

You jumped out of your skin when you felt familiar arms wrap around you like a hunting snake. Shawn kissed your cheek and whispered "god, your fucking beautiful" in your ear while pressing you tightly to him. "Merry Christmas, my love."

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imma-bout-to-simp · 3 years ago

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Inazuman boys overhearing a conversation where you admit you have a crush and/or would sleep with them.

Semi NSFW/ Mostly Fluff

Girls night in Inazuma was always fun, but sometimes it was more chaotic than others, this was one of those nights; when a particular fox envoy shows up to join, but she isn't the only unexpected visitor, in fact there's a certain boy that's been looking for you.

"So Y/N, are there any men that have caught your eye? With all the men I see drooling all over you, I expect you like at least one back, or maybe there's one you'd have your way with? The shrine can be so boring at times, I'm in need of some good gossip…"

"Well-"

ARATAKI ITTO

"Well, I do have my eye on a certain oni, he can be a handful, but he's a sweetie deep down. Speaking of handfuls, it's gotta be big… if I'm going to die, I'd get split in half by Itto any day."

Before anyone could make a comment you could hear a commotion just outside the door, as if there was a celebration with all the thudding and muffled shouting.

Opening the door you see Itto completely giddy, hopping around the place like he can't keep still. He hasn't seemed to notice your presence yet, but his cheeks are flushed, you'd like to think it was because of how much he was moving, but it was more than obvious he heard you.

If only Yae didn't bring that sake, your lips would've been tighter. As much as he doesn't seem upset by the conversation, you couldn't help but feel slightly mortified. Before your mind could roll itself around in embarrassment Itto's eyes locked onto yours.

"This might be the best day of my life! First I won a bug fight with the Onikabuto we found a few days ago and now I find out my pretty little Y/N likes me back! I- I mean of course you'd like me back, I'm the one and oni, Arataki Itto! Now, how 'bout we go to your place and I can show you what an oni is made of?"

THOMA

"Well, I've liked Thoma for a long time now, he's so kind and amazing at what he does; not to mention how handsome he is. Archons, I remember one time I had to deliver a report to the Yashiro Commission during the heatwave last summer; Thoma must have been getting rid of the weeds in the yard, he wiped his face using his shirt and I almost died right there when I saw his V-line. I felt like such a pervert but the way he looked, I hope that image never leaves my head…"

You hear a shaky knock on the door; turning around you see a flustered Thoma holding a tray of assorted snacks and drinks.

“Sorry for interrupting, I thought you’d all like some snacks to go along with the company… uh, Y/N, would we be able to talk for a moment?”

You nodded, knowing you would now have to face the consequences of the confession you just heard. As soon as the two of you left the room and moved further down the hall he turned around using his finger to lift your chin up before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sorry if that was sudden, I really couldn’t help it. But I need you to know I feel the same about you. If you’d allow me to, I'd like to make you dinner sometime, just the two of us.”

GOROU

“Well, I like Gorou a lot, I think he’s very handsome. I can’t help but find myself daydreaming when I look at him, he’s so strong and smart, not to mention kind too. This is pretty embarrassing but I tend to watch him when he trains, the way his muscles look when he’s using his bow is so attractive to me, I can’t help it.”

Nothing else could be said before a knock is at the door and the general of the resistance enters, ears perked and tail wagging wildly,

“I apologize for the intrusion! Your Excellency, here are the newest reports you requested. I-I'll take my leave now."

Before he had a chance to exit Kokomi who had been silent most of the night spoke,

"Gorou, would you mind taking Y/N for a walk outside? I believe she should get some fresh air and I'd like you to accompany her." She smiled into her words.

"O-oh, of course, come right with way Y/N!"

Before you stepped out the door to follow Gorou you turned back to glare at the resistance leader, who winked at you and sat looking very pleased with herself.

Leaving the room you noticed Gorou avoided eye contact with you, so he most certainly heard what you said. You weren't ashamed of these feelings but you knew the poor boy in front of you was flustered, but you had to ask the question,

"Gorou, I'm sure you heard what I said in there, I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable, but every word I said in that room was true… So I wanted to ask if you'd allow me to take you on a date sometime, I understand if you're not interested or too bu-"

"Yes! I- I mean I would be honored to go on a date with you Y/N!"

I was planning on doing Kazuha too but I just couldn't figure out how I'd make it work, but if I do more, he will be on there.

I will also add the cut below once I'm at a pc.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #arataki itto #thoma #gorou #itto x reader #gorou x reader #thoma x reader #itto smut #thoma smut #gorou smut

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dingusfreakhxrrington · 2 years ago

Text

Promise

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: spencer hasn’t been the same since the kidnapping and everyone knows it. you just wished he’d opened up to you sooner.

warnings: mentions of kidnapping, heavy indication of drug use, mentions of trauma, lots of angst, season 2 spencer, direct references to 2x15

word count: 2.3k

read on ao3

friendly reminder that comments and reblogs are just as (if not more than) important as likes!

It’s been months since the kidnapping, months since you almost lost him.

Spencer was back to work almost too quickly, somehow passing his psych evaluation with flying colours, but you knew he wasn’t okay. Everyone did.

He’d grown distant, quieter than usual. Most days he would try to act normal and pretend nothing was wrong but you knew better than to fall for that. Spencer wasn’t very good at hiding things from the people who cared about him, especially when it was you.

The two of you had been close since you joined the BAU. You had a lot in common and you understood him better than anyone else on the team. When he rambled, you listened. When he started spewing out different statistics, you were the only one who never cut him off. You noticed his stimming and his random hyperfixations. You were one of the few people on the team who he truly felt he was never being judged by.

So, when he stopped rambling so much and more often than not you found him sat quietly disassociating so intensely, you knew exactly where his brain was straying, you knew he wasn’t okay.

He’d spoken to Morgan and Gideon but only briefly and, although they had managed to get him to confide in them, you knew there was still something he was hiding. There was more to it and you could see it eating away at him. Everyone could.

“Reid!” you called out to him as you rushed out of the building, hoping to catch him before he left for home.

His head quickly turned back to you and he knitted his brows as you hurried over to his side. Although he said nothing, you knew he was asking a silent question from the tilt of his head.

“Do you want to grab a coffee with me?”

“A coffee?” he asked, checking his watch as if only to remind you that it was an unusual time to get coffee, especially when you were both heading home to unwind after a long day at work.

“Right, yeah. Okay, how about dinner then? I know you’re only going to get a crappy takeout anyway. We don’t have to go out but if you come over I’ll cook for you?”

He smiled, although you could see a glimpse of another emotion in his eyes. You weren’t entirely sure what it was but you didn’t miss the way he held his arm, long fingers wrapping just a tad bit too tensely around his forearm.

“You know what, I’d love to but-“

“No buts, Spencer. I’m cooking for you tonight. You need a proper meal for once,” you cut him off, and began heading towards your car.

With a small smile, Spencer shook his head and followed after you, knowing you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

His strange behaviour only continued during the drive home. He seemed distracted and on edge, though you were unsure why. Whenever you tried to bring it up in conversation, asking if he was alright, he’d just insist he was fine and then change the topic of conversation.

He’d been doing this for weeks. Insisting he was okay when you knew he wasn’t. In truth, he hadn’t only been distant and distracted since he came back to work. No, he’d also been acting strange. Sometimes he was rude and antsy as if he was subtly lashing out, and on occasion, he would completely disappear for short periods of time.

You’d asked Morgan about it, hoping he of all people would have been able to provide you with more insight but even he was unsure why Reid was behaving in such a way. In fact, he had been hoping you would have the answers. All he could chalk it up to was the way each case was getting to Reid. Everything had been different after he had become a victim himself.

“Do you want anything to drink? A glass of water? Juice? Something alcoholic?”

He made his way over to your couch, as always seemed to be his routine now. You weren’t particularly in the habit of inviting colleagues over but you had had Reid, Morgan and Garcia over on occasion. Whenever they came around, Reid always made a b-line for a space on the couch. Even now, it seemed.

“Some water would be great.”

You hummed and poured the both of you a glass before slumping down beside him on the couch. It felt nice to be able to relax although you could still tell something was off with him.

“Hey, can I use your bathroom?” he spoke after a few minutes of sitting in silence.

“Yeah, of course. You know where it is.”

Your smile dropped when he reached the hallway but you shook it off and started to prepare dinner. You couldn’t blame him for getting takeout most days as you often did the same. It was always so hard finding the time or energy to cook after a long day at work.

When Spencer came back from the bathroom he seemed different again. He didn’t utter a word to you as he sat back down on the couch, his body slumped over more than usual as he rested his head back and closed his eyes. You watched him from your place in the kitchen, thankful for your small apartment at this moment as it allowed you to keep an eye on him.

Still, you had already dragged him home with you and he was probably exhausted so you didn’t want to press. Instead, you opted for getting dinner cooked so that, at the very least, he could have a nice warm meal.

However, dinner hadn’t been the only reason you’d invited him over.

He sat opposite you at the table, thanking you for the food as he began to tuck in. The one thing that had struck you as odd, however, was the fact that he hadn’t taken his jacket off once since he’d arrived.

Usually, at the very least, he would have thrown it over the back of a chair and, on occasions when he was particularly tired, he’d even loosen his tie as well. Today, however, his clothes were almost too put together. In fact, you realised then that you hadn’t seen him with so much as a hair out of place in months. Not that that had hidden the dark circles under his eyes or the redness that often resided within them.

“Spencer?”

He only hummed in reply, his head swaying ever so slightly as he lifted it to look at you. His eyes seemed watery and his cheeks were somewhat flushed. He scratched the side of his neck, yet another tell in his body language that was bringing you closer to the source of his strange behaviour.

“Are you okay?” you asked as you piled the dishes up next to the sink, telling yourself you’d wash them later.

He stood from his chair, once again with knitted brows. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

He was scratching again, this time at his arm — the same arm he’d held when you approached him outside of work.

You sighed, growing tired of his lies. “Why won’t you talk to me? I know something is wrong, Spencer. You haven’t been right for a while.”

His eyes strayed from yours and he rubbed his hand up and down his arm, stopping just before he reached his elbow every time.

“I’m fine, really.”

You stepped closer. “No, you’re not.”

He glanced up at you again with guilt in his eyes. He knew he couldn’t hide it from you any longer, no matter how much he wished he could.

“Talk to me, please.”

You moved closer again but he stepped back when you reached out for him as if he were afraid you’d figure it out if you so much as touched him.

You didn’t want to believe it but you were a profiler, you studied human behaviour for a living and you’d been watching Spencer for some time now, determined to find a way to help ease his pain.

It was a truth you were reluctant to believe but, if you were right in your conclusion it meant things were worse than you’d initially thought.

A part of you didn’t want to confront him about it but as you’d stood there with him you knew you had to.

“Take off your jacket.”

His eyes snapped back up to yours and he looked afraid. Not of you, but of what you were asking. Of what he knew you would find.

“W-Why?”

You didn’t answer him because you knew he knew why. Instead, you simply stood waiting for him to do as you had asked.

His eyes drifted from yours and he shook the clothing from his shoulders, turning for just a moment to put it down.

When he turned back to face you, your hands were already reaching for his arm and oh-so-gently pulling the sleeve of his shirt up.

“Oh, Spencer.” It came out in a gasp as your hand covered your mouth, heart breaking at what you had discovered.

Tears began to prick at your eyes as you softly ran your thumb across his skin, careful not to press over any of the marks that littered his arm.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet, broken.

All of a sudden you found yourself lunging at him as you threw your arms around his fragile frame, holding him tight as if to try and tell him it was okay.

You still didn’t want to believe it, the guilt was eating you alive. You should have noticed sooner, you should have been there for him, you should have known. But there was no way you could have, not when he didn’t want you to know. He had been hiding this from you, from everyone. He didn’t want anyone to know.

It wasn’t your fault, yet that was little comfort to you.

He’d been using this whole time. Even now, in your own home, yet you weren’t angry with him. How could you be when this was of no fault of his own? You knew it had been Tobias who had done this, who had given him his first dose. If Spencer had had any say in it, he would have never gone near it.

You cried into his vest. holding him so tight you were almost afraid he’d struggle to breathe, yet his arms soon began to wrap themselves around you too as his body began to softly shake.

Together, you cried for what felt like an eternity as he was finally forced to face what he had become.

When you finally parted, he was wracked with guilt once again.

“Please, y/n. You can’t tell anyone.”

You finally worked up the courage to look him in the eye again and, when you did, you found your expression softening once again. “You need help, Spencer.”

Skittishly, he nodded his head. “I-I know but if they find out I could lose my job. I-I could-“

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out. I promise. We’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay? When you’re sober. You can stay here tonight, I don’t want you going home by yourself, but I need to know, Spencer: do you have any more with you right now?”

He gulped and reached for his bag, pulling out two more doses. Although he was hesitant, he passed them to you. The moment they were in your hand you found yourself tearing up again and so did he.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so, so sorry.” He buried his face in his hands, too ashamed to look at you.

Without a second thought, you hugged him again before slowly coaxing him to your bedroom. You helped him get somewhat comfortable, although he would have to sleep in his clothes, and tried to calm him down. You just wanted him to know he was safe and that you were there for him, no matter what.

“I’m going to get rid of these, get some sleep, okay?”

His eyes searched yours for any sign that you were going to leave only to call Hotch but he could see the sincerity in your eyes, he knew you weren’t going to do that. Not yet, at least. So, he nodded and closed his eyes, deciding to leave his fate in your hands.

A part of you suspected that Hotch already knew. He was far more experienced than you, after all. If you could see the signs then surely he could too. The only thing you couldn’t understand was why he hadn’t done anything about it.

Perhaps he too knew Spencer would likely lose his job or, at the very least, need to take time off of work to recover. Maybe he couldn’t afford to not have him on the team. Or, maybe he trusted Spencer to work through it on his own. Either way, you were angry that no one had done anything to help him.

So, with shaky hands, you poured the bottles down the drain and went back to his bag, digging through it to make sure there was nothing left. He had told you the truth and given you all he had with him. Still, you took the needles to dispose of them too.

When you returned to your room, he was already fast asleep.

You brushed his hair from his face, wanting to check he was okay, and whispered more to yourself than to him, “We’ll get you clean, Reid. I promise.”

feel free to let me know if you want to be added to or removed from my taglist!

#—dinguswritings ⌕#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #reid x reader #criminal minds reid #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic

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jordyn-degas · 2 years ago

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Never again.

Characters: Trafalgar Law x fem! reader

Warnings: first piece for Law bc I couldn't hold it in anymore - he's literally consuming every single brain cell; light smut - MDNI; depiction of cuts, bruises and blood; reader is held by Caesar; Law takes care of you - in more ways than one 😏; slow paced in a way; emotions and feels; implied decision of self-sacrifice; reader is sold to the highest bidder; restriction of free will; double entendre between Law & reader - men and their feelings; i think i described it heavier than it actually is - sorry 😅; moody and broody? absolutely lovable. Spoilers: if you haven't reached Punk Hazard and Dressrosa, you will stumble upon new characters under the cut. Read at your own risk.

italic font - past; regular font - present

Taglist: i'm tagging you in everything at this point @uchihabbynic 😅 i need you in my corner since i started down the One Piece path 🤤

Softness of familiar fingers brushed along the skin of your back carefully, goosebumps peeking through at the care with which you were handled. Along the trail of a touch that was not foreign anymore, after six horrendous months, came the thin, translucent fabric that has been adorning your body all this time. Cuts and bruises, unorthodox surgeries and an inhuman amount of tests defined the life you had been living in captivity.

On the God forsaken island of Punk Hazard where a mad scientist resided, the author of each scar that was going to serve as a reminder for the rest of your life, a seed of hope developed with each passing day, blooming into moments of peace, comfort and quiet. It was all because of a man that was entrusted with keeping you alive enough to carry on with being a subject, armed with medicine and gauze along with a pair of gray eyes that seemed lost somewhere in time, in a point he was unable to return – pure coldness masking anger and sadness, a wall built on a life that hasn’t been kind.

“Don’t sleep on your back tonight.” Trafalgar Law, the infamous Surgeon of Death and one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, broke the comfortable silence while carefully wrapping the gauze around your arm.

“I’ll sleep on the side.” tired sigh slipped past your chapped lips, hooded gaze eyeing the monitor on the other side of the room where it displayed vital signs that were barely above the limit – monitored day and night.

“Caesar went in again.” he concluded watching how your shoulders caved in as if trying to hide whatever gruesome cut was in the front.

“It’s fine.” hand lazily reached for the oversized shirt resting on the pillow, one belonging to a subject that has been dead for more than three months now. “I’m so used to it by now that I don’t feel the pain as much.”

Fingers dipped into the abrasive material from all the clumsy hand washing, patches that have been sown up again and again pushing against the skin as a reminder that this has probably been worn by many before you. Looking into the lap, sudden shame bloomed seeing your legs completely riddled with old and new scars, damaged skin peeking from under the shorts, its disgusting aspect crawling upwards across the navel where it was met with various vertical and horizontal cuts that reached around your middle.

Pulling at the shirt to bring it closer, the warmth of Law’s hand engulfed your wrist, freezing immediately feeling the most skin to skin contact you’ve had in months. A sense of urgency pooled into a silent plea, tension being released through the pads of his fingers, as if silently telling you to wait, to stop and accept yet again his help. As he walked around the bed on which you were sitting, arms quickly shot upwards, hands clasping at the shoulders in an attempt to hide what was now one of the most deep, long and wide cuts your chest had survived. It was far from being the first time in which Law has seen you completely bare from head to toe, needed when the damage was too great to stumble over such mundane concerns – he was a doctor after all.

“Tch! How is this fine, Y/N-ya?” Law grumbled with utmost annoyance, chair grazing harshly against the floor while being brought in front of you. “You’re hemorrhaging.”

“I’m not made of glass, Trafalgar.” bark but no bite being all that you could muster at almost 1 am, after a long day of being a guinea pig.

Holding back a reply fit for the smart ass you labeled him as, Law’s jaw clenched shut watching the woman that fought the pain right before his very eyes. Six full months of constantly providing postoperative care, trying to the best of his ability to place back together what others broke, at first considering it to be a tedious request from Caesar. That until he allowed himself to get to know the mysterious patient no one was allowed to talk to, you so casually striking up a conversation while barely able to breathe – kind eyes and soft smile.

Unknowingly to both of you, as each day passed, seeds were planted somewhere deep into hearts that deemed themselves unfit to live freely, to know peace or love, to feel care or happiness. Extra medicine was being sneaked under Law’s jacket, followed by books, warm tea and food – hours passing by with ease when in the presence of each other. There was no need for conversation, being in the same room making the air of this hellhole of an island a bit more breathable.

“Y/N-ya.” Law’s deep, soothing voice pooled into your ears with calmness, gaze falling on his open palm in which a roll of gauze waited. “Let me.”

“This time is really bad, Law.” defeated whisper made its way out of the dryness of your mouth, head raising, gaze being met with the familiar pair of gray eyes in which you found comfort and compassion. “I’m horrendous, disgusting, a sight that would ..”

“You’re not.” bitter sentence being cut off abruptly, Law’s proximity and intense stare causing for your arms to slowly drop on each side, breasts exposed to the coolness of the room as his focus switched from your face and on the bleeding cut that stretched from under the neck, stopping in the middle of the abdomen – for the first time since being examined by him, blood rushed into the cheeks, causing you to blush profusely. “Have you finished the book I brought last week?”

Calloused hand found its purchase against your cheek, powerful slap causing the neck to snap painfully, the taste of blood coating your taste buds. Bare feet felt relief while touching the expensive carpet adorning the stone flooring of Dressrosa’s Royal Palace. Fingers wrapped tightly against the two blades you held, entire body trembling from head to toe with anger and fear, jaw clenched shut in an attempt to fight the harsh reality.

“Bought for my free use, indeed.” Don Quixote Doflamingo’s vicious chuckle bounced off the walls, lips and teeth morphing into a malicious grin. “Worth all the money for this moment right here.”

Horror and shock adorned Law’s features, Sea Prism Stone shackles binding him to the royal chair, hands balled up into tight fists when met with Doflamingo’s most prized possession in this war against him – you. Chest began heaving at the sight, forcing himself to remain as calm and calculated as possible, trying to ignore the all too familiar instinct of protecting you in favor of putting the pieces of the puzzle together, unable to slip past the constant thought that bloomed into both of your minds: a year and two months since being sold by Caesar only to find each other here.

Tears pricked at your eyes seeing Law so close, yet so far, pangs of guilt booming into the chest knowing you have not kept the promise made before your departure.

I promise to stay safe until you come after me.

Evil laughter filled the room, Doflamingo and his acolytes watching with delight as two people representing each other’s weaknesses were the prisoners of his mercy.

“Did you really think that Caesar didn’t know about you two?” Doflamingo’s tonality carrying mockery from beginning to end, fingers dancing into the air as your arms suddenly raised with the blades in a position to attack. “He gave me everything I needed to know, to use when the time was right.”

Law was still stuck between past and present as he could not see, through the teared clothes, all the scars that once mapped out all the pain you’ve been through. The woman he met in Punk Hazard completely disheveled, beyond repair at first glance, bore no resemblance to the one standing before his eyes. Looking past the dried up blood as a result from the slap, skin was glowing with a smoothness that has never been there, no longer sickly and battered, lips pinched with a healthy color, cheeks dusted with the bright blush of life — one he hasn’t seen in so long it had his heart race at the sight.

Even with the eerie calmness Law seemed to be displaying, you knew exactly what he was thinking with the way his gray gaze was doing its rounds up and down your figure. After the time spent together, after all the conversations and nights where you thought no one knew about, you could easily read the man that took up all the space available in your cold heart. The broken woman he got to see in any shape and form was no longer there — healthy from head to toe, used because she was doomed to fall in love with him.

“What did you do?!” a dangerous growl ruptured from the back of Law’s throat when met with a stupidly low temperature in the room along with your bare body only wrapped in a flimsy sheet – Caesar was punishing you.

“I-I r-r-refu-used-d-d ..” teeth clashed against each other repeatedly, violent chills shaking your form while sitting on the bed all balled up. “ .. I f-f-fought ..”

Tears grazed the sensitive skin of your cheeks, blood concentrating into keeping a weak body warm, anger and disappointment lacing the voice of the woman to which Law rushed a split second. For the first time since being here, he decided to risk his own plan for this unknown woman that worked its way under his skin in less than a month since meeting her – 7 months later since he first laid eyes on you, warmth, care and an unnamed feeling gnawed mercilessly at his soul.

Judging by the way risky purple pinched parts of your body, Law knew the shock of hypothermia was close to hitting. The warmth that engulfed you at his proximity called for rash decisions, sheet dropping as you wrapped around his body as a moth drawn to bright light. Tensing briefly at the contact, Law relaxed immediately thereafter, feeling your arms sneaking under the jacket, face buried deeply into the crook of his neck, pleasured sigh escaping feeling the desperately craved warmth. Cold lips brushed past the pulse point that was throbbing, his eyes dipping along the curvature of your back and quickly switching their focus when met with the waistband of the only piece of fabric covering the lower part of your body.

“‘m sorry.” shaky whisper laced with sadness graced the silence as, instinctively, Law’s arms wrapped around you tightly. “m so cold.”

“Don’t worry.” Law’s own whisper brushed past your ear, masking the foreign satisfaction he felt of having you in his arms.

Not even realizing what was happening, warmth suddenly tugged at your skin, feeling how life rushed throughout the body, able to hear again heartbeats that seemed to not be there a few seconds ago. Feet left the floor, legs wrapping around your savior’s waist in an attempt to absorb even more from the essence of life. Head raised slightly, you were met with a foreign room, eyes coming in contact with a wall filled with bookshelves, desk holding perfectly organized papers to the side and a closet. There was cozy light, senses pinched with the scents of Punk Hazard’s winter and pristine freshness, detecting with ease the faint citrus smell of a familiar hand soap — Law’s room.

“Let me.” Law spoke calmly as your feet touched the floor, gray eyes completely focused on yours, arms raising on their accord on which he slid one of the fresh t-shirts that rested on the bed. “You’re sleeping here.”

“What about Caesar?” shiver ran across the length of your spine at the mere thought of not being found in your usual room and putting Law in a danger neither needed. “What about you?”

Looking through hooded eyes, Law chose to answer with silence, walking up to the desk and placing his jacket on the back of the chair before sitting on it with a quiet sigh. Without another word, taking his entire demeanor as a hint, bare feet slapped against the floor but not in the direction he thought. Law was met with a stretched out arm, palm wide open, eyes falling on the stitches surrounding your wrist.

The soft smile adorning your features had yet another knot form into the throat, one that began appearing quite often whenever he would hear your carefree laugh despite the situation in which you have been for months. Reluctantly, Law placed his hand into yours, both knowing that whatever has been building in the darkness of Caesar’s laboratory could not end with rainbows and fireworks. However, who doesn’t crave the sweet taste of happiness and peace from time to time?

“You need to rest.” was the only sane thing Law managed to say, trying to ignore how good you were capable of looking in his t-shirt, taking off his signature hat and throwing it on the desk.

“So do you.” soft notes filled with warmth and care pricked his senses, mattress dipping as you both slid under the covers.

It was one of those moments in which everything ceased to exist — Law forgetting to put up his reinforced walls meant to keep people out, allowing himself to care, to feel, much more than ever before, while you forgot that maybe tomorrow you’ll meet the end Caesar has threatened you with, grasping at a hope that came in the form of a broody, grumpy man that did nothing but to show the other face of humanity.

Tears bubbled into your eyes at the feeling of being comfortable again, of feeling pure warmth that came from another person, of bathing into an unspoken care, heartbeats thumping loudly enough for the man to hear them. His eyes did not leave your face for a single second, fighting between the harsh reality and the onslaught of feelings that began taking over with each second spent so close to you. They felt foreign, yet familiar and comfortable, fingers twitching with the sudden need to touch you.

Ignoring any sense of sanity, your body moved on its own accord, hands working quickly the material that stood between you and Law’s upper body. When he did not protest, steel eyes still trained on your features, arms wrapped around his neck, pulling both bodies flush against each other – skin memorizing the tattoos that adorned his chest and body as if wanting to carry a version of him with you forever.

Quiet gasp rolled off Law’s lips at the closeness, absolutely bewildered with how normal it all felt, as if being with you for years on end.

“Need your warmth.” emotions filled voice cut through the silence, trying to not break down feeling his body melting against yours, arms sneaking around the middle, being pulled even deeper into the man that awakened the feeling you were afraid to name.

Law could feel the tip of his ears burning, fingers twitching as they dipped into the material of the t-shirt covering your body, tightening their grip on it when realizing this was the only place in which you were capable of finding comfort and safety. There was no room for uncertainty at this point, both diving too deep into something that should have not existed in the first place, grasping at straws of a hope neither could guarantee – falling for each other on this God forsaken island, in the darkness of Caesar’s laboratory, a place where dreams went on to die along with their owners.

Timid attraction began closing the gap between your lips, Law’s eyes darting to yours and back up, searching for any bit of hesitation, barely able to hold it together as the warmth of your breaths clashed. Hot fingertips carved their path in between his shoulder blades, traveling upwards across the nape of his neck, slight shiver rocking Law’s body at the intimate gesture, before your fingers found purchase into the softness of his dark hair. Arm wrapped tightly around the waist moved to grab at the flesh of your thigh, leg being carefully placed over his middle, both watching each other in comfortable silence, any rational thought slipping out and making room for nothing but yearning, suffocating want and need to feel loved.

“Y/N-ya.” Law’s last attempt at being calculated, protective and sane about the situation, was completely thrown out the moment a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

“I’m sure.” confidence laced the words, lips hovering over each other, waiting for the moment in which all the walls would crumble to the ground. “Are you?”

The reply came in the form of a haze clouding your brain completely, pieces of a broken heart meeting yet again in their rightful place as Law’s lips melted against yours – warm, soft, careful, timid even. It felt as if getting acquainted with each other for the first time, yet familiar and safe, somehow knowing what one meant to the other long before even having the chance to meet. Tongues slipped past the feverish lips, dancing on a slow, tender rhythm, breaths picking up their paces with each passing second spent entangled. Fingertips dipped even deeper into the flesh of your thigh, body arching into his, wishing to be absorbed and consumed completely by no else but him.

Through needy, passion filled kisses, the mattress dipped again as Law switched his weight, settling your body under his with ease, forearms on each side of your head, legs spreading to accommodate the man in between them, shaky sigh being released when feeling the protruding bulge pressing against the visible wet spot of your underwear. Hips began moving on their own accord, demanding more through the clothed friction which caused the Surgeon of Death to allow a low groan to escape against your lips. Needy whimper betrayed the state in which you found yourself the moment he stood up, knees digging into the mattress, expert fingers quickly working under the oversized t-shirt you wore, hooking them into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and off the legs slowly, calculated, as if giving you time to change your mind on something that was bound to seal two fates together.

“Don’t.” hand grabbed at Law’s wrist, stopping him from removing the last piece of clothing that would reveal what you had become in its entirety.

“I already know ..” steel gaze pierced through the depths of a soul that had known nothing but loneliness and fear until meeting another, until him – warmth and kindness pooled into the eyes of the man that used to show nothing but eerie calmness and coldness. “.. you.”

Trembling hand released its grip, allowing Law to carefully pull the t-shirt off your body, eyes shutting in anger knowing what laid before him – the ruins of an unfinished experiment. Shuffles could be heard, slight movements of the bed being the only thing you could distinguish while refusing to see what was happening. As shame began to wash over you, mouth opened to let out a gasp of surprise, feeling soft lips pressing against the abdomen, traveling upwards in slow motions. Was he kissing along your scars?

Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes, fighting to push them as far as possible realizing what was happening, deciding to timidly look. Blurry vision opened to see that Law’s pants were gone, the only thing separating the two of you being a pair of black briefs, gaze moving its focus to the man that did not miss one scar, each holding a care filled kiss, one hand clasped on your thigh while the other was smoothing along the ribs, soothing away the shame that began to die out. Head tilted upwards, erratic breaths slipping into the air as his lips traveled along the scar in between your breasts, own fingers making their way back into the softness of his dark hair, tugging slightly when he moved to the sides, tongue flicking shamelessly at each pebbled bud, the first broken moan of the night bouncing off the walls.

Law’s hand released its grip on the thigh, tickling at the sensitive skin as it traveled down the valley in between your legs, groan escaping from the open mouth which caught your high pitched moan when his long, tattooed fingers slipped in between slick coated folds. You were pooling into his palm, heavily swallowing the knot formed at the mere idea that it was all because of him, watching how your gaze became hooded when the first finger went in with a bewildering ease, chest heaving from the arousal, Law’s lips stealing feverish kisses and broken moans.

“m-more.” breathless plea had Law’s length twitch violently into the cotton confinement, jaw clenching feeling the uncomfortable hardness, second finger going in without a second thought. “A-ah!’

Hips began rolling instinctively against him, arousal dripping profusely, teeth clenching on Law’s bottom lip as nails dug into the skin of his back. Both fingers slipped out, covered completely in your wetness as they slowly made their way on that, oh, so sweet spot, gently circling it while applying the pressure that had you choke on your own breath. Law’s hand flew to the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down in one swift motion, quiet gasp crashing against your moans when hit with the warmth of the room.

Not resisting the urge, foreheads pressed together, your gaze dipped in between the legs, mouthwatering sight wiping all that has happened up until this point – heavy, of an impressionable size, cock twitched at the attention, leaking with arousal. Legs wrapped around Law’s waist, the small smirk tugging at his lips not going unnoticed, pushing it into submission with a small peck. Two gazes lost into each other, Law slowly guided himself towards your welcoming heat, following how your eyes began widening, jaw falling slack as the tip pushed through the muscle ring that twitched at the sensation. His own were screwed shut for a brief moment, mentally cursing at how tight you felt despite the pool of arousal in between your legs.

“Fuck!” both lost the little control that remained behind, word escaping at the same time the moment he bottomed out completely, gummy walls pulsating around his shaft.

Languid strokes turned your body to mush, melting into the sheets at the sensation of being so full of him, legs tightening their grip around Law’s waist, nails and fingertips pressing into his back with hunger, unable to look anywhere but at the man stealing whatever was left of your sanity, the man that, with each sensual roll of his hips, was tearing down the walls both have fought to keep up.

Pace picked up only slightly as you angled your hips higher, guttural moan escaping Law at the change, forearm pressing into the pillow as the other hand moved to take yours, fingers intertwining above your head between sinful sounds and heavy panting. Head fell to the side, teeth nipping at the skin of your arm from the bewildering pleasure that coursed throughout the body.

“Eyes on me, love.” Law rasped while trying to control himself feeling the way you clenched and twitched, gaze falling on your heaving chest, breasts bouncing lightly with each delicious drag of his cock, skin flushed and filled with goosebumps being an image burned forever in his mind.

Hearing Law’s words, head snapped back to be met with a hooded, gray gaze that glinted with an unrecognizable emotion. Hand tightened its grip on his at the sight, the man pulling moan after moan as he was capable of reaching so far deep into your aching core. Realization hit like a ton of bricks, Law’s forehead pressing against yours, feverish, passionate kisses being stolen in between breathless releases of pleasure – you were so in love with the man it had your heart being squeezed with love and pain, wanting nothing more than to live, than to be capable of surviving enough to get out of here and simply be.

Be with him.

“L-Law .. I lo ..” words died out into the throat when lips crashed against one another, each stroke of his cock in and out of your heat becoming more intense, more sensual, filled with something more than yearning, passion and attraction.

“I know.” Law’s shaky whisper hit in all the right places, forearm moving for its fingers to tangle into your hair, pulling gently at it until the exposed neck of the woman trembling under him was in full view, lips latching against the sensitive skin and peppering it with loving kisses. “I .. know.”

Forced steps were being taken towards the Surgeon of Death, all sprawled on the royal chair, unable to do anything more than to watch how you were coming for the kill under Doflamingo’s control - sharp blades pointed straight at his chest, jaw clenched shut in an attempt to fight such monstrous power, refusing to take the life of the man you loved. Despite seeing his usual wall put up, seemingly unbothered by what was happening, you knew better than anyone in the room that the cogs in Law’s brain were functioning at full speed trying to come up with a way to stop this entire ordeal.

“Did you even know that Caesar lied to get a better payout?” words came out through heavy breaths, amused expression taking over much to Law’s surprise hidden under the steel mask of “I don’t care”. “I thought the Don Quixote family was smarter than this.”

“Trying to buy time, princess?” Doflamingo’s rasped out laugh pushing each available button of your sanity, flashes of an insatiable rage morphing into images born out of the desire to kill him – to torture this pure evil until there was nothing left of him.

“No.” you scoffed as the panic built with each step taken towards Law. “Since Caesar is with the Straw Hats, I can out him for the play he pulled on all of you. It’s not like you can do anything to him now.”

“No one deceives the Young Master.” Baby 5, one of Doflamingo’s acolytes and assassin, chimed in while feeling personally attacked at the implication of your statement.

“Trafalgar and I had a moment of weakness which I knew was being monitored.” annoyed sigh rolled off your lips feeling Doflamingo’s controlling strings pausing their wretched attempt. “It was easy to trick Caesar into believing that whatever he thought he saw would bring him more money. Higher price, bigger chances of leaving that hell hole with whomever paid. Who wouldn’t want to have leverage against one of the Seven Warlords?”

“That so?” vicious, disgusting grin split Doflamingo’s face, Law’s entire body tensing realizing the man was about to do something even crueler.

Lythe fingers danced into the air, a muttered “fuck” being choked out when forcefully pushed right in front of Law while slightly bent over his figure. One blade pushed against his neck while the other was dangerously digging into yours, thin droplets of blood trickling down on both of your skins.

“Then kill him if that’s true.” Doflamingo purred maliciously, controlling with ease how the blade pressed against your skin as incentive. “Or .. was that a lie?”

“He lives, you say?” an amused chuckle escaped into the air, instinct dictating that it was a blatant lie but choosing to believe it out of pure hope.

“He lives.” the head of the Don Quixote family responded, mocking, harsh giggle resounding into the background at his own words.

“I’m sorry.” was all you could say, whispering low enough only for Law to hear, tears bubbling to the surface realizing how easily Doflamingo could control your body — knowing that his desire right now was for Law to die by your own two hands. “I tried.”

“Whatever you’re about to do ..” Law’s growled, uncontrollable anger destabilizing every single synapse in his brain when realizing what you were about to do. “Don’t.”

“Remember what I wanted to say that night.” soft smile engulfed your face, pace washing over the pair of eyes he dreamed of every single day since you left. “It’ll all make sense.”

I love you.

Law’s eyes widened in horror as the final piece of the puzzle fell into place – you were willing to die for him rather than lying, rather than having a chance of living after everything you went through. Erratic heartbeats took over in a split second, teeth gritting with ravaging anger as wrists were close to bleeding into the shackles, desperately wanting to break them off, to grab you and run out of the room as far as possible.

Why the hell didn’t he allow you to say it back then?

Why did he always have to find a way of stopping the words to fall from your lips?

Why did he do everything in his power to not make it real when it already was?

He felt the same and never got the chance to say it, to hear it directly from you, to bathe into the soothing notes of your voice when uttering the three words that gave him the life he never felt worthy of. Saying “I love you” at that time seemed as if allowing the reality to disappear, to give true meaning and hope to a relationship that thrived on the luck of you being alive the next day, after Caesar was done with his experiments.

Cracks began showing into the smile you so freely showed Law, chin trembling from the tsunami of emotions crashing into you, tears staining the pair of eyes in which he always saw a life to be lived, heavy droplets rolling down the cheeks he used to kiss when asleep. Indeed, Law never showed or talked about his true feelings, about what was hiding underneath the steel exterior.

He never had to. You knew.

“Oi, Doffy!” you shouted, voice filled with confidence bouncing off the walls, tears pinching your lips with sadness and anger, eyes blooming with happiness at the mere fact that you had the chance of seeing the man you loved again after more than a year of being apart. “I fucking lied!”

Evil laughter filled the air, arms raised as fingers puppeteered the woman that chose love over life, two seconds of events unfolding into the room where your fate, and the fate of Dressrosa, was going to take a sudden turn. Scream filled with anger, desperation and pain exploded into the air as shocked gasps followed right after, droplets of blood splashing against Law’s chest, painting the black heart tattooed on his chest into shades of dark red, while the sound of steel blades crashing against the floor announced the end of a decision that was going to last a lifetime.

To the side, Doflamingo’s head rested on the blood stained carpet.

“Go right now!” Law roared like never before, steel gaze burning with a rage no one thought he was capable of under all that calmness and pristine, calculated attitude. “NOW!”

“B-but ..” teeth snapped shut against each other, the sound having Viola, King Riku’s second daughter, placing her hand on your shoulder and squeezing gently, reassuringly.

“After what you just ..” he followed, feeling how his words could easily cut even deeper than the blades that only scratched the surface of your delicate neck – Law inhaled deeply, regaining balance, notes of relaxed tonality carrying the sound of his voice. “I can’t have you be used as leverage again. Doflamingo won’t hesitate holding you over my head.”

“I don’t want to leave again!” foot slammed against the ground, blood rushing through the veins at the mere thought of being apart, of losing him yet again. “I don’t want to leave .. you.”

Silence fell upon the group that managed to escape out of the room filled with the danger that Doflamingo represented, Law at a loss of words of how easily you admitted, revealed so openly, in what way you were tied together under the questioning gazes of the others. Viola’s sweet chuckle filled the air, Kyros and King Riku eyed each other with small smiles that gave away the fact that they caught on to what was going on, witnesses to the previous sad scene that unfolded at the hands of Doflamingo, while Luffy looked in between the two of you as if you were the strangest thing to walk the land.

“Promise me.” Law mumbled, cheeks slightly flushed, ears burning with everyone’s eyes set on him, trying to calm his heart from exploding into millions of pieces because of you – deep, defeated sigh slipped past his lips when deciding that no one truly cared about this whole moment except the two of you. “You’ll stay safe until I come after you.”

Eyebrows shot up in surprise, lips parting hearing the promise made over a year ago being uttered yet again, and not by you, but by the man that, at that time, even refused to acknowledge that loving someone else existed – that it wasn’t just a bedtime story.

Beaming smile curved your lips upwards, the same one Law got used to seeing daily a while ago, the same one he missed beyond his own capacity of understanding.

“I promise.” sweet notes of happiness danced into the air, the tonality of a voice he only got to hear when around him, when not either in pain or filled with sadness, brought a small, rare smile on his own face. “Never again, Trafalgar!”

“Come with me.” Viola chimed in, fingers intertwined with yours, understanding clearer than anyone else that she had to hang on to your life, to protect you with everything she had – witnessing pure, unstained love was a source of power not many were capable of understanding in this wretched world.

Neither you or Law needed to say it out loud – I love you taking the form of a promise that meant a whole lot more than the confession itself, representing both the beginning and the end of what was going to be the rest of your lives.

“Never again.” Law acknowledged right away what you were saying, the double edged sword of your words being an unspoken language to others but him – he knew better than anyone what that meant. “Y/N-ya.”

You knew exactly what he was saying right there and then, heart blooming with a deep sense of accomplishment that no one else could decipher. It was a bizarre exchange between two people that met into the darkness of Punk Hazard, two people that gave up on themselves for each other, two people that decided walls were built to be crumbled at the hands of those that truly mattered.

As Doflamingo’s voice began booming over Dressorsa, announcing a new hunting game of the people that dared to cross into his territory, to try and save what he ruined all those years ago, the two of you looked at each other, finally at peace. There were about to be excruciating moments, events that would have your hearts scream with desperation, yet, somehow, you knew that the grass was going to be greener on the other side.

This time you were not going to leave on separate paths, torn apart by an unfair fate and an expensive trade.

This time you were both going to walk side by side, on the same path, because ..

Never again, right?

�� Reblogs & comments would be much appreciated ✨

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seudxnimx · 2 years ago

Text

Jun scream is expected, Noa doesn’t know nor does he care what he does in his free time in the means of fucking or getting fucked but if this is a normal position for Jun, he certainly hasn’t been in it for a while. He’s incredibly tight and the lube helps Noa but he knows it’s not much relief for Jun and he doesn’t care. This is what he asked for, to be fucked. If he thought that meant something else then he truly was stupid.

He can feel how his body tenses, all of it, all of him and Noa gets to take in that feeling. Jun is strong and built, Noa gets to enjoy the view of his back and shoulders and how the muscles form there, how he’s worked hard to look like this. He gets to see the curve of his ass and Noa can’t help but think he’s meant to be seen in this position with the kind of ass he has. He wants to prove himself so bad, Jun wants to be seen and Noa is looking now, he thinks this is a service he might take up again if he doesn’t completely ruin this man here and now.

He knew a sound would slip and Noa lets Jun get away with it. Enjoyment and pain, it sounds the same to Noa. It’s consensual but Noa wants it to hurt and he’s been in Jun shoes before… those men aren’t alive now, not since Noa has taken his place near the top but Noa was nothing but a slave when he started, in the deepest of debts and he did anything and everything just to keep his sister safe and hands off her. He let them use him how they would have used her and therefore he wants to return the favor to anyone who will take it. Male or female, he fucks to make it hurt and to take out what was done to him onto someone else. Jun is no exception and gives him reason to fuck into him like he hates him.

Tattooed fingers grab at Juns ass, enough to hold onto as he pushes deeper in, the sound of his name goes straight to his cock but it’s too much noise and his fingers go from hair to hooking into Juns mouth like he’s a fish on a line, the other hand moving from his ass to his hair to still keep him arched. The sounds he lets pass, no reprimand for that just yet, his hips haven’t let up, his own body flexed with the pace he’s set and refuses to let up with. The mix of arousal and aggravation make it easy to ignore, “You sound like such a slut for this.” Noa isn’t quiet in return, if others hear, so be it. In the moment he’s sure Jun will get fucked around even more because of it, treated as lesser than by some who still hold straight men on a higher pedestal but Noa won’t let it happen when it actually comes down to it, if he’s around to help at all. Jun isn’t weak, he’s desperate and that’s what makes him weak. That’s what put him in this position and Noa is going to remind him of that. Of this moment. Of just how desperate he was.

“You’ll never feel the same after this….” Arched over a bit himself so he can speak against Juns temple, “You want to be seen by me so bad, you want to take what I’ve earned as if I need freedom. Congrats, you’ve set me free, Jun-ha.” A soft few grunts leaving him in between words, “The next time you even think about going off on your own…” stilling his hips deep in Jun, panting against his temple as he speaks, “I’ll fucking kill you.” Flexing his cock in Jun a few times before he pulls back and starts moving again, this time with an end in sight as his thrusts get sloppy, he’s chasing his own release at this point and will pull out at the last second to cum all over Juns ass. If Jun finishes or not, it’s not his concern. Noa’s grunts and deep moans caught in a silent inhale as he reaches his climax, Jun isn’t worthy enough to cum in, he deserves the mess to clean up as most of the cum lands on the perfect globes arched in front of him, a few lines manage to hit Juns back as well before Noa finally lets go of Juns hair. He doesn’t drop his head but uses his fingers against Juns forehead to guide it down to the desk where his fingers massage into the blondes scalp a bit as if to release some of the pressure that might have been built up there.

Noa slides his cock through Jun cheeks a few more times, eyes closed as he lets his own orgasm pass through him and it’s just a minute or two that he lets pass before he steps away and stops touching Jun all together. Knowing what it’s like - even though Noa has never asked for it willingly, there’s a sick twinge of guilt in his gut. It’s easy to ignore at the moment though, deciding to get dressed and not instructing anything from Jun yet, instead he watches. Watching his back as he breathes and watching the cum slide down his skin. He won’t tell him to do anything for a moment, giving him time to recover and just stand if he can.

If there’s hesitation in the other, he keeps it to himself. He doesn’t look to Noa to elaborate or to ask if he’s doing any of it right and that’s exactly what Noa wants. If he had an issue with how Jun-ha was doing something he’d have no issue telling him and fixing it. He’d have no problem slapping more sense into the man.

He is beautiful though, isn’t he. The broad shoulders and blonde hair. Bruised skin isn’t what he wanted to see but he’s not surprised Noa wasn’t the first to lay hands on him. Jun-ha could have and probably will have gotten a few of them killed at some point. This wasn’t over even if his punishment was going to be, the consequences of his actions would have a lasting effect until they could clean up their name and remove it from the drug trade, which wasn’t an easy thing to do. He doesn’t know how much Jun sold yet but he knows to who and Jun-ha is inexperienced but not stupid, he sold good shit for a better price but that’s also where he faulted. He will truly learn the cost of his actions this time and if this doesn’t do it - not the sex and being beat to all fuck, but the lives he’s going to cost if his own family, if that doesn’t get through to him then Noa will have lost all faith in him. Despite where and how he got here, the Yakuza is family. These are his people and he doesn’t want them to die but some will have to.

Jun-ha is nice to look at though, in another universe maybe he’d appreciate him in another way but right now he’s watching him as if he’s stalking wounded prey. Pacing behind him as he watches from all angles Jun finger himself. He wonders when the last time he was fucked, when the last time he’s done this even… the mess he’s made of his desk goes ignored for now, the sight is far too enticing to notice anything else. He can see him trying to prep himself and keep quiet, a smirk plays on Noas lips at the fact. How cute.

What’s even more cute is that he’s hard while doing this, wondering if there’s some masochist and humiliation kink sleeping inside of Jun that was waking up now. Noa is completely silent though, other than his feet hitting the ground and a few wet strokes of his cock, he doesn’t make a single sound and just watches. No praise or encouragement, letting Jun-ha try and prepare himself for what he asked for… a first for Noa and something he clearly wasn’t going to pass up. Even if he knows he should. He should just let Jun-ha keep doing this while Noa gets dressed and sits, watches and lets him finger himself till he cums over Noas desk just to make him lick it up. It’s probably what he should do, and still might but after just a few more seconds of watching him try to fuck himself on just a few fingers, Noa steps in.

“Enough.” Is all he says, pulling Juns wrist away and pinning it down against his desk, “Keep quiet and don’t fucking move, understand?” Stroking himself once more before he lines himself up. Ah, another time he might try and make this feel good. Might let Jun-ha get used to the stretch but instead he simple shoves the head of his cock in and waists only a few seconds before he’s bottomed out inside of Jun. a hand holding the blondes head down against the desk and the other right on the already bruised hip. Noa let’s a low groan out and his head falls back, Jun being tight and almost holding him in place as he tries to quickly take in the stretch. This is still a punishment though and Noa grips the blonde hair and lifts his head up just enough for added leverage before he start to mercilessly fuck into him. Even if Jun is quiet there’s no misunderstanding the loud slaps of skin against skin and the creak of the desk as Noa repeatedly slams his length into the other as if he hasn’t fucked in months… granted, he has, but nothing this tight.

Soft pants leave him, fingers dig into the bruise left there by someone else but Noa will bruise over it, his fingertips will make some spots darker and make Jun remember this above being kicked. “You cum untouched or don’t cum at all.” Noa warns, pulling up on his hair to get his back to arch even more, feeling just the spot to hit as he fucks violently against it.

#okajibana #replies — ic. noa watanabe #{ usfw }#[I tried to keep it short lol]

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