#we’ve been waiting for signs of life for so so long

[neednolighttoshine]

Lucas feb. 24

[pathologicalreid]

Can I please request protective Spencer x BAU!Reader who get "lightly" hurt or put in danger bc SWAT or local police made a mistake, and Spencer goes OFF on them. Hotch or Rossi have to calm him down because no one but the BAU knows theyre dating. I'd love to see protective Spencer if possible :)

no sign of danger | S.R.

when SWAT makes a mistake that puts you in danger, your boyfriend is... displeased

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst content warnings: bloody nose, concussion, split lip, blood, mild violence. spencer reid says the f word. word count: 1.58k a/n: anon, not to be dramatic but something about writing this changed my brain chemistry. thank you for requesting!!! i hope you like it!

The time between arriving at a scene and when SWAT cleared the building was almost always intolerable. There were too many variables at play. It made you uneasy.

So, you waited, leaning on the side of an SUV with your Kevlar already strapped on, you turned to look at Hotch, “We’ve got an audience.”

Breadcrumbs that Garcia had picked up led the team to a house in a small town in Arizona. Unfortunately, the FBI garnered a lot of attention, and neighbors were starting to gather around the house. Hotch nodded, “Reid, JJ, work with the locals on crowd control, and make sure no one is recording. The last thing we need is for the news crews to show up.”

You offered Spencer a small smile as he turned to follow the blond to the barrier. He waved behind his back as he walked away.

Chuckling from right next to you got your attention, just to see Morgan shaking his head, “You two have it so bad.”

“I like to think we have it good, actually,” you said, flushing slightly. The teasing came with the territory, dating within the BAU meant never knowing a moment of peace – especially with Derek Morgan around.

There wasn’t an opportunity for him to respond, because as soon as he opened his mouth, your radio buzzed to life in your ear, “Building is clear. No sign of danger.” At the sound of the SWAT commander’s voice, you and Morgan surged forward to enter the building, Emily and Hotch following close behind.

Behind you, Hotch cleared his throat, “Morgan, Y/L/N, take the two rooms in the back, we’ll take the front.”

Nodding at your orders, you and Morgan walked past the staircase and to the opposite end of the house, where the kitchen and the den were. “This place looks like it’s been abandoned,” you thought aloud, dragging your index finger along the kitchen counter, and cringing when it came back covered in dust.

As you wiped your hand on your jeans, you looked up to see Morgan sorting through a vinyl record collection. “You’re right. It doesn’t look like anyone’s even entered this house in years.”

You hummed, opening the first cabinet you saw, wrinkling your nose at the discovery that the house also smelled like it had been abandoned. As you went to close the cabinet, the one below you swung open, the force of the doors almost knocking you to the ground.

Stumbling back, you saw a flash of hands before you were slammed into the refrigerator behind you. Immediately, you dropped to the floor, watching as Morgan tackled the guy and shouted for Hotch and Prentiss.

“We need an ambulance, Y/N’s down,” Emily spoke urgently into her radio while Morgan cuffed your attacker.

You winced at the way the radio buzzed in your ear; the way Emily’s voice echoed combined with the throbbing pain in your head made you nauseous. “What do you mean ‘Y/N’s down’?” Spencer’s voice rang through the radios, prompting you to haphazardly yank the coiled wire from your ear.

Everything sounded like you were underwater, Emily and Hotch asked you questions as the fog cleared from your head, “You’re bleeding,” Emily said, there was a worried look in her eyes.

Hesitantly, you pulled your hand from your face, just to see it covered in blood. You weren’t even sure how long you had been holding your hand to your face. “Can you stand?” Hotch asked you, his tone was concerned, but there was something else buried within it.

Nodding slowly, both of them helped you stand. Emily hooked an arm through yours when you stumbled slightly, she led you out of the house and to the ambulance. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Morgan place his hand atop your attacker’s head, protecting it from the top of the police cruiser.

As soon as you sat down on the back of the ambulance, an EMT handed you a towel to hold to your nose. Your eyes flittered up to see Spencer approaching the ambulance, but to your surprise, he turned at the last moment and faced down the SWAT commander. “What happened in there?” He asked, his tone wholly accusatory.

“It looks like the person of interest was hiding in the kitchen when your team entered,” Commander Polk answered, obviously thinking Spencer was just asking for a sort of status report.

Spencer shook his head, “We’re hunting for a serial killer, and you had the audacity to miss the presence of an entire person?” He asked incredulously, “Did you even clear the kitchen?” He pointed in the direction of the house, where Rossi and JJ were now entering to look around more.

The SWAT commander faltered for a moment, “Someone did, but it wasn’t me personally.”

You winced as the EMT prodded at your face, surmising that your nose wasn’t broken, just bleeding badly as a result of the blunt force of the refrigerator. She pulled your hand from your face so she could inspect for any further damage. You opened your mouth to talk, but the EMT was quick to stop you, “You shouldn’t talk, not until we can look at the cut on your lip.”

While the EMTs got more supplies out, Emily helped you take off your Kevlar vest, undoing the Velcro for you and gently tugging it off. The entire front of it was covered in blood, you winced at the sight of the now-red letters.

“You need to figure out whoever checked the kitchen and make sure they know what they’re doing,” Spencer said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Commander Polk’s demeanor instantly changed, “I assure you, agent, we take training our team very seriously. This was just a mistake.”

Even from this distance, you saw Spencer roll his eyes. “First of all, it’s doctor,” he corrected – at which you rolled your eyes. “Second of all, of course, you take training seriously, it’s mandated by the federal government. This was a mistake, a mistake that ended in the injury of a federal agent,” you looked from Hotch to Spencer, hoping your unit chief would do something before Spencer got punched by the SWAT commander. “SWAT making mistakes gets other law enforcement officers killed,” he continued.

“What’s your point, doctor?” The commander asked.

Spencer cleared his throat, “I’m saying you’re fucking lucky she didn’t get killed, or else-“

“Reid!” Hotch called, stalking over to where your boyfriend was nearly getting into a fistfight with SWAT. He muttered something unintelligible to Polk before dragging Spencer away by the elbow, “What was that?”

Your boyfriend threw his hands up in the air, “He needed to be made aware of their mistake.”

Sternly, your unit chief shook his head, “They are aware, Reid, and I assure you I’m not going to drop it and there will be an internal investigation into what went wrong.” He raised his eyebrows, “That being said, it’s not your job to take care of mistakes made by other people.”

“No,” Spencer agreed, “but it is my job to take care of her,” he said, gesturing over to where you were sitting in the back of the ambulance.

Hotch pointed around to the locals and other SWAT members, “They don’t know that, Reid.” He whispered, keeping his voice down so he didn’t expose your relationship to everyone in the Arizona town. “Let me take care of it,” was his final statement before he walked back to Commander Polk.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Spencer spun around and finally walked over to you. Emily nodded at you before stepping away, “Are you alright?” He asked.

You flashed him a thumbs up, gesturing toward the EMT, who answered for you, “We just glued the gash on her lip, so she can’t really talk right now. She’ll be fine though, maybe a small scar, if anything.”

“Good,” Spencer said, ambling over and taking a seat next to you. “I was so worried about you,” he murmured, and you watched as he restrained himself from touching you.

Humming, you leaned into him for just a moment. Your movement was intentional, but it was quick enough that any passersby would assume you were just unsteady.

The EMTs left once the glue on your lip dried, directing you to ice it periodically to help with swelling and handing you care instructions.

You were left with a mild concussion, a split lip, and ruined clothes. All things considered, you felt like you were pretty lucky. The rest of the team piled into the SUVs, you and Spencer sitting in the back of one with Hotch at the helm and Emily in the passenger seat. “Who knew Reid had it in him?” Emily wondered aloud, eliciting a small laugh from you.

“I can’t believe you almost got into a physical fight with SWAT over a split lip and concussion,” you said, smiling slightly, but stopping as you felt the glue on your lip tugging.

Spencer rolled his eyes, “It wasn’t over the split lip and concussion, it was over the abhorrent display of-“

“Reid,” Hotch said in his no-nonsense tone.

Your boyfriend slouched back in his seat, “So, maybe it was over the split lip and concussion.”

Closing your eyes, you reached over the middle seat and took his hand in yours, “Thanks, Spence.” You whispered so that only he could hear, leaning over the gap between you and setting your head on his shoulder.

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[rottenaero]

They were gonna put Eddie down like a damn dog.

The group had insisted that Steve visit the hospital today, one year and two months after the incident. It was a random day, and he thought, ‘ why the hell not?’

Family Video had been closed for months, doing ‘ repairs’, so he really didn’t have much else to do.

He thought it was weird, the way the group was as far away from the bed as possible, and how when he entered the room, Hopper almost blocked the exit.

He doesn’t question it though, sidling up to the open chair beside Eddie, who was still asleep after all this time, and punching his shoulder lightly.

“ Hey, Hero.”

He’d taken to calling it sleeping instead of what it was, a coma. Sleeping sounded more peaceful, because with sleeping came dreams and relaxation.

Eddie doesn’t respond, doesn’t react. Steve didn’t expect him to.

He turns his head to Dustin, the one who’d called him in the first place. “ So, why’re we gathered here today? Any updates?” He asks, addressing the whole room.

The boy swallows, and something tells him something’s wrong. Really wrong.

“ Yeah, actually. Uhm, since it’s been so long, we were thinking-“ He cuts himself off, crosses his arms and starts tapping his foot. Thinking, probably.

Hopper glances to him, and sighs, deciding to lead. “ We’re gonna have to let Munson go.” He states.

Steve takes a sharp breath.

“ What?”

‘ Let him go’ like this is a job. Like this isn’t him losing his life. He wonders when they decided to do this, in the hospital room for the ten minutes they were waiting.

Eddie doesn’t give any indication he hears what’s being said, the beeps from the heart monitor still steady and even as ever. A constant metronome of the exact same sound on the exact say beat, all the time, always.

Except maybe not always.

Dustin takes over again, arms placating. “ It’s been a really long time, Steve. We’ve come to terms that he probably won’t wake up, and it’s doesn’t have to be sad-“

“ You’re killing him.” He hisses, “ You’re killing him and it’s not meant to be sad?”

Nancy steps forward, seeing it as her time to speak. “ Steve. You barely knew the guy, and you spend all your time here, it’s not good for you.”

“ There’s been no good signs, no nothing, not even when El looks into his brain.” Dustin nods at the girl across the room, who’s fiddling with her fingers.

Steve furrows his brow, “ Oh, so I guess you’re gonna pull the plug on Max too?”

Lucas’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open, and Nancy glares. “ That is not fair, Steve.”

“ This whole situations pretty fucking unfair, so I guess you’re gonna have to explain to me how this is different from Max.” He stands, stance wide as he points to the man in the hospital bed.

“ Max is making progress.” Lucas says weakly, and El sets a hand on his shoulder. The boy deflates.

He turns toward Hopper and Joyce, the latter still not having spoken. The Byers family had moved back to Indiana for God knows what reason, and Steve knows that if he had the money, that he could’ve moved somewhere else long ago.

“ Does Wayne know you’re killing his kid?” He asks.

He’d met the man while visiting, and they’d usually sit in silence and watch baseball or whatever was on. He never questioned why Steve was there, or why he was holding a limp body’s hand and taking off it’s rings and putting them back on.

When they did speak, it was stories he had from Eddie’s childhood, about how he buzzed his head because a spider crawled on him and he was convinced it was hidden in his hair, making babies.

Hopper pinched his nose, like he was being a pest. “ Stop using words like killing, and yes. He said he didn’t want Eddie to have to suffer, and his bills are getting expensive.”

And he blinks, realization dawning.

This hadn’t just been decided, had it? This wasn’t a ten minute decision while Steve was getting ready to come here.

He speaks, his voice low and keeping even through each word, “ You guys had a meeting.” The ‘ without me’ goes unsaid, but still echoes throughout the room like if would’ve if he shouted it.

They’d decided this whole thing beforehand, somehow knowing that Steve would hang on. And he would, will. He can’t let him die, he can’t lose.

Will nods, and next to him Mike and Dustin look ashamed. He would’ve thought they’d hold out more.

He racks his brain for any reason they should keep alive, can’t find one. Somehow, even without one for them, he has a million for himself.

“ If the bills are the reason, I’ll pay the damn bills. He’s fucking alive.” He tries.

“ You don’t have a job, Family Video is closed. Just let it be, Steve. Please.” Robin had been eerily quiet during this entire conversation, and it brings him chills him when she speaks.

His best friend had been in on it.

He crosses his arms, “ I’ll get a job. Listen, I’ve been having dreams,-“ He lies. He lies because there’s nothing true to prove Eddie is getting better. “-dreams that he’s alive in like a dark space, I don’t know- his mind maybe? I just- I really think he’s in there.”

The hope Dustin gets on his face hurts, but he doesn’t care. The guy will wake up and it won’t matter that the ‘ dreams’ never existed.

Maybe it’s because he’s an optimist, and that’s why he’s trying so hard, as pessimistic as he can be sometimes.

“ Why didn’t you tell us?” Dustin asks and Steve licks his lips.

Why didn’t he tell them? “ Despite all this crazy shit, me having dreams that he’s alive still sounds crazy.” He doesn’t look at the boy as he says this, eyes roaming over Eddie’s face.

He looks serene, the bat bite on his face as healed as it can get. The doctors had mentioned swelling on his back shoulder blades, but Steve thinks his would be swollen too if he sat on them for a year.

‘ A year and two months.’ He corrects himself.

He stares at the hair that, occasionally when it got matted, Steve would go through and brush it, not wanting him to wake up to being bald because a doctor seemed it necessary.

Wayne mentioned how much he hated the shaved head, and he wouldn’t put him through that again.

As he looks at him, he thinks ‘ I’m doing this for you, so you better wake up, asshole.’

Dustin’s eyes are wide, staring at the members of Hellfire. Steve could only describe the look as ecstatic.

“ Holy shit, I mean, holy shit!” He laughs, and Mike breaks into his own grin.

Jonathan chimes in, disbelief sketched into the lines all over his face. “ Sorry, but doesn’t that seem too convenient? I’m not saying you’re lying Steve, just… If El didn’t find anything, that’s pretty much it.”

His lips form into a line, determined. “ I told you, I’ll be paying for whatever. It’s no skin off your back, or money out of Wayne’s pockets.”

Joyce nudges Hopper when he goes to speak, and nods at Steve. “ If you wanna try, sweetheart, you can. But I don’t want you visiting too much, it’s doing you more harm than good.” She wraps him in a hug, before leading the ex-chief of police out of the room.

Slowly, everyone vacates, until it’s just Steve, Eddie, and El.

She doesn’t make a move toward the door, eyes locked onto his face.

�� You’re lying.” She whispers like a secret.

He nods.

She looks toward Eddie, nervous, and she messes with the hem of her shirt when she starts to speak again. “ I lied too.”

She doesn’t elaborate, walking out of the room without anymore information, and Steve blinks.

The hospital has to call Wayne to confirm the transfer, that's how he learns of the circumstances. He doesn't say much of anything, aside from a promise of a visit on Tuesday before he hangs up.

That night, that same fucking night, he gets a call.

It's the front desk lady, voice distressed rushing through an explanation.

" Eddies gone...Only blood in his bed...We don't know where he is."

Steve stares at the wall, the rest of the words falling upon deaf ears.

Someone had probably found out where he was being held, murdered him a year later for his crimes, and stashed the body away.

He sets the phone back in its holster without saying anything to the other line. Not even a goodbye, or a thanks.

He thinks, it only for a second, that he should've let them just pull the plug, it would've been far less painful.

A creaking brings him out of it, and his eyes dart to his door.

It's dark, too dark, and Steve's aware the Upside Down fucked him up in incomprehensible ways, and now every shadow looks like something,

But there was definitely someone in his house.

He keeps slumped on his bed, the same position as when he'd answered the call. He doesn't flinch when the door pushes open enough for a body to slip in.

There's the sound of something dragging along the carpet as they come closer, probably a shotgun, or maybe they're gonna beat him with his own nail-bat.

He doesn't care to decipher the shape, instead shutting his eyes.

A hand grabs his, sets it on dry skin. His thumb touches a rough patch, a scar like feeling.

One his hands had roamed over while patching up his stomach, refusing to get looked at. That concave patch of scratchy skin that they tell you eventually will just be soft, scarred, but normal.

The skin stretches, and he feels a cheek.

Somehow, he thinks if he keeps his eyes shut, he doesn't have to face the thing in front of him, that it somehow isn't real.

A scratchy, disused, and croaky voice sounds out.

" ' Hey, Hero.' "

[sunandflame]

Not a Monster

Warnings: fluff, nsfw, smut, implied violence, neglect, threesome, double penetration, biting, mating, jealousy

Word Count: 7,2k

Pairing: Yoriichi x Fem!Reader x Kokushibo

crossposted on AO3

In a world where Demons had become domesticated in the last century or so, becoming glorified pets and workers. 

You knew you had done your friend a favor by getting her a pet demon, especially since you were worried about her mental state, which had been rapidly getting worse.

Weeks and months had passed now. Of course you remained in constant contact and had observed how good it was for her to take care of the demonic creature. Which of course left you wondering why you didn't have one, since you weren't any better when it came to fighting the loneliness that was a constant part of your life. Some solitude was always good but when prolonged, it was overwhelming and could be painful.

That's why you thought it couldn't hurt to - maybe - keep your eyes open, look and behold, it literally popped in front of your nose as you walked past a shelter. There was a red sign with 'HIGH DISCOUNT' there.

It wouldn't hurt to take a look, right?

Your entrance was announced by the ringing of a bell above the door. There was no one there and you looked around cautiously. There were all sorts of things that were used for keeping a demon. You walked down the corridor and saw a big cage standing darkly in the corner. It was larger than the other cages you had seen and you became curious, especially since the sign also said high discount.

As you walked in closer, you noticed the demon who was on his knees behind the bars, dignified and humble, he had his gaze lowered until he realized you were there. He was beautiful with his maroon colored eyes and long black hair that turned reddish at the tips. A prominent mark on his forehead took nothing away from his beauty and neither did the two horns that protruded from his forehead. Two horns…? Wait a minute, this means…

“This is a pureblood, very rare on the market.”

Startled, you turned to the clerk, who suddenly stood behind the counter and stared at you. Your gaze went back to the demon, who looked at you carefully and didn't take his eyes off of you. “Then why is it at such a low price?”

“Because of his brother.”

"His brother?" You frowned and looked confused from the seller to the cage and you felt another presence in the cage - 6 glowing eyes stared at you from the dark corner.

He stepped forward next to his brother and even though you could tell they were probably twins, you could clearly see the differences. The red of his long hair was darker and more spikier, his complexion paler, his physique was broader and more muscular. But this was not the main difference. It was his eyes which he held 6 pairs of. Golden with red sclera. His aura was intimidating and yet also very regal and proud. He had two horns as well that were more purple than red. He also adorned an additional mark that ran from his chin down to his throat.

 “Why, what’s wrong with his brother?” You couldn't take your eyes off him as you asked your questions and saw him squinting all of his 6 eyes on you.

“Yoriichi is a very domestic and remarkable demon. Very trusting, friendly, and listens to every command but his brother, Kokushibo, on the other hand… Well, I can only say that his previous owner was not able to handle him.”

“It didn’t occur to you to separate the two?”

“Of course, but every time they were separated, Kokushibo became more and more uncontrolled, and Yoriichi always managed to escape and return to his brother. We’ve tried it several times but it just didn’t work, which is why these rare purebloods are on discount.”

You saw Yoriichi looking at you with interest and Kokushibo about to hiss at you. You turned your head to the seller and grinned at him. “I’ll take them both.”

~ ~ ~

You really didn't know what got into you when you found yourself standing in front of the two demons that were clearly too tall. They literally towered over you by almost two heads, looking down at your pathetic height. You should have been intimidated, but strangely enough, you weren't. Maybe it was because Yoriichi's calm and tranquil manner balanced out Kokushibo's wild and angry one. The two of them were like yin and yang. Brothers who couldn't be separated.

The purchase was so spontaneous that you weren't really prepared and you were lucky enough to have a larger apartment with an additional room that you could possibly make available to the two of them. Your friend, whom you surprised with the demon Giyuu, probably felt as unprepared as you too.

“When was the last time you two ate?”

The two of them stared at you before Kokushibo turned away in disdain and Yoriichi felt obligated to answer for them both. He opened his mouth and it was the first time either of them had opened their mouths. “We last ate 10 days ago.”

What?! No wonder the six-eyed demon was in such a bad mood. Demons didn't have to eat regularly like humans. 1 to 2 a week was enough, but not 10 days! They must have been absolutely starving!

After they had eaten, you prepared their room. Unfortunately you didn't have any other beds, just futons, but that should be enough for now.

~ ~ ~

A few days passed and they were quieter than expected. Kokushibo hadn't done anything bad to you but still refused to talk to you while Yoriichi was very pleasant. 

“Yoriichi, do you want me to take your collar off? The Wisteria pouch must be uncomfortable for you.” Collars were mandatory for demons when they wanted to go outside, but the owner was able to choose at home.

He lowered his gaze humbly. “You are too kind, Mistress.”

You were very fond of Yoriichi. You liked his kind and gentle nature that even soothed your own chaotic thoughts. It was the least you could do for him. You asked him to lower his head and carefully took off his collar. While you came so close to him, you noticed his hair and gently stroked it. “How about I brush your hair, it’s looking a bit dull.”

His hair was beautiful and you could feel how he enjoyed being pampered by you in this way. How your brush went slowly through the dark red waves, making them shine again. It was a very domestic situation between the both of you that got interrupted by a dark aura from the corner. You quickly glanced from Yoriichi’s hair to Kokushibo. If you didn't know any better then you would assume that he was jealous, but you were not sure.

“Are you hungry?” But there was no answer. It was not like you expected him to talk. Both demon brothers had been very silent since the beginning. After taking off Yoriichi’s collar you noticed that he spoke a little bit more. His pleasant and calm voice relaxed you deeply and you wondered whether Kokushibo could even speak and whether it was perhaps because of the prong collar that he still had around his neck. The prong collar looked painful and even if you weren't intimidated by his strong presence, you still wanted to be careful.

But somehow that seemed unfair to you.

“Yoriichi, please wait here.” You stood up and approached the tall menacing demon until you were standing in front of him. He didn’t lower his ominous presence when he looked down on you and yet you showed no fear. ”Lower your head, please.” But he did nothing of that sort, but squinted his 6 eyes onto you. You let out a long sigh. You knew that it wouldn't be easy with him and yet you were slightly annoyed when you needed to pull up a chair so you could be on the same level as him.

“Don’t move…” You were very close to him as you fumbled with his prong collar to open it. What kind of brutal device was that? The collar was far too tight on his neck and had left scars; there were also scratch marks that showed that he had desperately tried to open it himself. It was said that demons who have face marks are wilder and less easy to tame. Kokushibo even had two. Was that the reason why they tortured him like that? Anger flared up in you, but you took controlled breaths so you were able to focus on this damn opening mechanism.

Kokushibo watched your efforts with interest and for the first time there was no anger or threatening aura coming from him or his eyes. After some fiddling with his neck, you managed to open the damn collar and threw it on the floor. Your gaze was focused on the puncture scars on his neck. Without a second thought, your fingers roamed over the spots.

Well at least you tried, because he had stopped you with such a quick movement that you took a startled step back. The only thing was that you had forgotten you were still standing on a chair and your foot stepped on thin air.

Everything happened so quickly in the next few seconds that you were not able to realize what actually happened until your body was pressed against his, his strong arms around your waist. He caught you in time and held you against his solid physique, and you could feel how strong and muscular he was. You looked at him with wide eyes while he looked at you almost bored. “You humans are so clumsy.”

Were those really his first words towards you? His voice had a deeper timbre than Yoriichi's and it made your skin shiver. Since his arrival, all he had done was glare at you and intimidate you with his brutal presence, which he was very good at controlling. All that was gone now as he still held you close to him - as if you weighed nothing. His gaze on you was interested, since this was the first time you were up so close to him.

“You- You can put me down now…” And he did. With a gentleness you never expected from him. Your soft body slid along his. You looked at him, slightly puzzled. “I'll get some balm for your wounds. Maybe you should sit down so I don’t have to get back on a chair.” He just nodded at you and sat down on the sofa where Yoriichi was sitting.

You left the room briefly and didn't notice how the brothers communicated with each other or how Kokushibo’s eyes were following you. With the balm in your hand, you sat between the two and turned your attention to Kokushibo. “Don’t be alarmed, it might be a little cool now,” you whispered as you gently rubbed the cool gel along his neck. He didn't even bat an eyelash and just let you do it while keeping all his 6 eyes closed. Was he enjoying it? It seemed like it. You carefully stroked over it a second time as you saw how the wounds were already starting to heal. “Woah!” You let out surprise.

“Our wounds heal very quickly and we can’t have scars, but my brother's collar was coated with an extra strong dose of wisteria that made him even weaker and made it difficult for him to speak. Thank you, Mistress, for this generous gift you gave to both of us.”

Yoriichi, who was sitting to your right, had taken your hand. He brought it gently to face and brushed it against his cheek and gave each knuckle a kiss. There were so many emotions associated with his gesture, like gratitude and affection, that it almost brought tears to your eyes. 

You turned your head towards Kokushibo who looked at you with a look that you couldn't interpret. He finally spoke and his voice made you shiver again. “I would like to take a bath. May I, Owner?”

You simply nodded and watched him get up and disappear into the bathroom. Yoriichi, who was still holding your hand, spoke as his brother was gone. “Michikatsu is not evil as anyone would assume. He needs love and affection like any other being. I wouldn't mind if you would give some of your attention and affection to him."

“Michikatsu? His name is not Kokushibo?”

He shook his head. “Koku, black. Shi, death, Bo, eye. They named him like that because of his eyes. He never corrected them as he wanted them to fear him. But in reality Michikatsu is the nicest of them all.”

Michikatsu is the nicest of them all.

Yoriichi's words echoed in your mind as you knocked on your bathroom door and opened a crack. "Can I come in?"

“This is your house, Owner...”

You grimaced at his wording and entered anyway. You saw him sitting relaxed in the tub with all but one of his eyes closed. With the one he watched you carefully as you took a washcloth and sat down on a stool behind him. You gestured for him to lean forward slightly, which he did.

You moistened the washcloth with the warm water and gently slid it over his broad shoulder. Luckily his hair was already in a bun so you had free access to his back. At first he was very tense, but when he realized that you didn't mean him any harm and just wanted to scrub his back, you felt his muscles slowly relax under your fingers.

“I told your brother the same, please don’t call me Owner. Just call me Y/N. It feels so degrading to you both to call me owner.”

He was silent for a while before answering. “We... are demons... We have no right to name anything the way we want... We have no right to have an opinion on what we should be called. We are just objects in people's eyes. Easy pets...”

This time you were the one who remained silent, because you had felt the resentment and frustration behind those words. You took a cup and filled it with warm water and poured it over his back to wash away the dirt that had formed from your scrubbing. “I don’t know what your previous owners did to you. You don't have to tell me, but you're not objects to me. You are living beings who deserve to live a good life. You can call my home yours too. You are allowed to have possessions too.”

“That is…noted…”

The next few minutes were shrouded in silence, but it wasn't unpleasant. On the contrary, Michikatsu actually seemed to enjoy the way you gently massaged his scalp with your fingertips while you shampooed his hair. You enjoyed these domestic activities. To take care of someone. To make them feel good. You hadn't done that for a very long time because you had also been alone for a long time. Being alone was painful- 

Before you could delve into your dark thoughts, you noticed an odd smell and was startled. Did you leave something on the stove? No, it smelled way too pleasant for that.

Michikatsu noticed your twitch, but he didn't react like you. “Yoriichi has been watching you for days, like me. He’ll probably cook you something while you’re here with me.”

You looked at him in surprise. He wasn't serious, was he? You really wanted to check, but wanted to finish bathing Michikatsu.

“Go…  I’ll wash up and join you…”

You nodded and walked into the kitchen where you saw Yoriichi standing at the stove with your pink apron on. He looked at you and gave you a smile. “Since you take such good care of us, I wanted to prepare something for you. I read that miso soup is very popular and you had the ingredients for it. Do you like miso soup with silken tofu?”

You couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him looking so adorable with your pink apron. “Yes, I love miso soup.”

~ ~ ~

Ever since Kokushibo spoke to you, you were sure that all three of you were getting along very well. You ate together, laughed and talked. Well mainly you talked, because the two of them enjoyed listening to you talk and you finally had the feeling that someone actually wanted to listen to you too. And of course you cared for them too. Pampered them, washed their backs and bought them what they wanted even if that was not much. Yoriichi had once told you that it was enough that you would treat them well as you did now. This always made you question what terrible things had been done to them. How would they dare to treat them badly? You didn't want to think too deeply about it. If they didn’t want to talk and think about it then who were you to do so?

“Ouch!”

You looked at your finger which was starting to bleed. You quickly put your bleeding finger under running water to rinse out the dirt and checked out the wound. Shit, the cut was deeper than expected. Suddenly you felt Michikatsu’s presence very close to you. You jumped. Even after weeks, you couldn't get used to how quietly the two of them moved around the apartment. He looked down at you and your bleeding finger. 

“Don’t worry, it’ll stop bleeding soon.” You weren't sure if you were saying this more to yourself than to him, but he wasn't deterred. He took your hand and put your finger in his mouth, licking the blood off. You looked at him with wide eyes. You were even more surprised when he suddenly took you in his arms and carried you to the couch and sat down, you sitting sideways on his lap, taking your bleeding finger into his mouth again. 

You were literally puzzled, but he didn't seem to mind. You had been in the middle of cooking and wanted to tell him so, but he just gave you a look which silenced you.

“Clumsy human, let Yoriichi do the cooking and let me take care of your wound.”

You wanted to say something in response but didn't know what. You had already seen Yoriichi scurrying into the kitchen but were distracted again when Michikatsu gently nibbled on your finger and put it in his mouth.

Since that time he always looked for moments to distract himself by nibbling on your fingers. He seemed to have an oral fixation, or he just liked it. Either way, he seemed to be enjoying it and it didn't bother you, so you let him have his way. It also gave you the chance to look at him up close, as he often didn't allow that.

Michikatsu noticed this of course. “You’re not at all disgusted by my appearance.”

“Why should I?” You did not understand the question.

“Are my eyes not too scary for you?” 

Oh, this is what it was about… “Is this why you always keep all eyes closed and just look with one?”

“No, I keep them closed so that I don’t have sensory overload and… so that you aren’t afraid of me.”

“So I was right?”

He kept silent and you gave him a soft smile. “Please close your eyes.” He did as you asked. You moved closer to him ever so slowly and gently kissed each of his 6 eyelids. When you let go he looked at you in surprise, his 6 eyes wide. This was the first time you could see the emotions so strong on his face. “You are not a monster and never will be to me.”

~ ~ ~

“You are not jealous, right?” you asked Yoriichi, while he was sitting patiently in front of you as you brushed his long beautiful hair. 

He shook his head. “No, why should I?”

“Well… Because I give your brother so much more attention than you.” It was a little bit uncomfortable to admit this, but it was true. Michikatsu was very demanding and jealous from time to time, even if you don’t give him much reason for it. But yet, anytime you were close to Yoriichi or spending time with him, he immediately snatched you away in silence and nibbled on your fingers. 

“But I did ask you to do so, right?”

“I mean, yes you did. But I still feel bad about it. You deserve my attention as much as Michikatsu.”

Yoriichi took your hand, it seemed like the brothers had a fixation with your hands, and kissed your knuckles as he always does when he wants to show his gratitude. “Sitting here with you, hearing you talk, while you touch me so affectionately, is everything I ever wanted.” 

Yoriichi were always able to hit you with the right words and gestures. You leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the crown of his head. “You are such a good boy and deserve the whole world.” You felt Yoriichi shiver from your words.

~ ~ ~

Months passed, the season changed and it was winter. That meant the Christmas markets opened very soon! You were excited because you wanted to show the brothers how beautiful the markets can be. Of course they needed to wear collars, since demon companions were required to wear one by law. You hated it, since you were not able to forget the painful device Michikatsu had had to wear, but you had to adhere to the law. You decided to get the type that was demon friendly without the wisteria pouch for both of them. 

The three of you strolled through the Christmas market, Michikatsu to your left and Yoriichi to your right, and you received a lot of attention. You didn't know if it was because of their height or because of their distinguishing face marks. It could also be due to Michikatsu’s threatening aura, or the fact that they had two horns which identified them as purebloods - a very rare sight to see.

It wasn't important to you. The only important thing was that they had fun like you did and got as many impressions as possible. You curiously looked at all the stands and came across a woodcarver that had beautiful pieces to offer when you suddenly saw a wooden puzzle box. Himitsu-bako. You took it carefully and stared at it, fascinated. You always wanted to try it. The idea to get so fixated with a riddle was so appealing to you that you asked about the price. He named the price. You thanked him, placing the puzzle back down, and went to the next stall.

“Why didn’t you buy the puzzle box? You seemed very interested in it.” Yoriichi looked at you questioningly, while Michikatsu lingered in the back, his attention somewhere else.

“Oh, it was a bit too expensive. I wanted to have money for candied apples and to buy you two something you want! The puzzle has no priority.” You gave him a bright smile as the cold air made your cheeks blush.

You threw yourself onto your couch immediately when you got home. Man, you were exhausted. Yoriichi and Michikatsu didn't even seem to show any signs of exhaustion, but you clearly were. Walking for hours had drained you and you just wanted to relax now. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

As usual, they sat down on the couch on either side of you as you made yourself comfortable. It wasn’t long until your head was resting on Yoriichi's lap, him playing softly with your hair while Michikatsu massaged your calves that were sore from all the walking. You felt so comfortable and safe that it didn't take long for you to fall asleep and you missed over half of the movie. You didn’t notice how Yoriichi gently lifted you into his arms and carried you to bed or how he gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead while you cuddled yourself onto your blanket.

~ ~ ~

"What is this?" You stared at the small box that was placed in front of you and you didn't hesitate to pick up. It didn't take long for you to realize what it was. It was a wooden puzzle box. Himitsu-baku!  You looked excitedly at the beautiful piece. “But where did you get that from, Michi-kun?”

“Michikatsu is very skilled in wood carving,” Yoriichi replied as Michikatsu watched you with interest. “He made me a flute too, see?” He took out the little flute and showed it to you.

You looked at the beautiful piece in awe and then looked over at Michikatsu. “Michi-kun, I didn’t know you were so talented! Yori-kun, can you play on that?”

Yoriichi didn't hesitate and played some soft tunes. You clapped your hands enthusiastically. “You two are so talented!” You watched as Michikatsu turned away and hid his face behind his hair. Was he blushing? You probably saw it wrong… You looked back at your box. These were some refined skills, which made you wonder.

“It never occurred to me to ask you about your hobbies or what activities you like to do…” You felt guilty because until now they had always obediently gone along with everything you wanted but you never asked what they wanted.

The brothers looked at each other, visibly confused by your change of topic. This time Michikatsu spoke to answer your question. “We enjoy…training kendo together… But our previous owners didn’t like it at all… They got scared… Also we always lack the space and the necessary tools.”

"Tools?"

“A bokken, but a simple wooden broomstick will do too,” Yoriichi explained to her.

"Oh! I think I can organize that! Also a place for you to train! The apartment complex has an unused backyard. We can go there in the evening! As often as you want too!”

You three were at the said place. You were not able to find a bokken, but Yoriichi had said that broomsticks are enough for now. You can get them the necessary equipment later. Oh, how happy they would be, you thought excitedly to yourself.

Now you sat in a corner, lulled in your jacket as you watched the two brothers standing in front of each other. They first bowed respectfully and then it began. Their movements were so fluid and elegant that you were barely able to look away. It was a dance between two brothers who couldn't be more different. Like the sun and moon, Yin and yang. You weren't sure who would emerge victorious, but you were still surprised to see Michikatsu a few minutes later on the ground.

Another fight. Michikatsu was on the ground again. It went on like this until the yukatas were thrown over their shoulders, hanging down from the Hakamas. They were both suddenly topless, the cold didn't seem to bother them. You felt heat creeping into you. It wasn't like you'd never seen them topless before, since you washed and bathed them both from time to time. But now they are training. The muscles rippled in harmony with their movements, it was only then that you realized how incredibly sexy they both actually were.

Both were muscular and strongly built. Yoriichi a little leaner than Michikatsu. Your eyes wandered and you couldn't get enough of what was presented in front of you. Wandering up and down until they stopped on the seductive V-line of the two of them. Your eyes switched back and forth and you had to suppress a sigh as Michikatsu lunged forward, flexing his big biceps.

It didn't take long for you to get wet and dampen your panties. Crap. That was not good. You couldn’t be horny for your demons! That's irresponsible! Both of them had immediately stopped and stared at you as if they knew something. You blushed like a tomato.

“It seems like Y/N is cold. We should go home,” Yoriichi said as he put his yukata back on.

Michikatsu nodded and did the same and you were happy that demons were not able to notice things like that, right?

~ ~ ~

You laid in bed, frustrated, not being able to finish what you had started. Fuck, why can’t I come already? For the past hour you were touching yourself, trying to get rid of this horniness and the lewd thoughts that bothered you all evening. But it didn't work!

You huffed, frustrated, pulling your hands from your pants, and rested your arm on your forehead. It has been a while since you touched yourself. Was it possible to unlearn things like that? You didn’t know. What you did know was that you were exhausted and wanted to sleep but the hot images of the two brothers haunted you badly. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by soft knocking. “May we come in?” It was Yoriichi’s soft voice.

You immediately gathered yourself and sat straight in your bed. “Um, y-yes, sure!” The door opened slowly and the two brothers entered your bedroom. “Were you both not able to sleep?”

No answer, only gazes as Michikatsu sat down at the end of your bed and gently massaged your calves while Yoriichi sat close to you and held your hands in his. Normally you didn't have a problem with them being so touchy, you were happy to give them whatever they wanted and secretly you enjoyed it too, but at the moment it wasn't so good. Because you were a bit oversensitive due to your frustration.

Yoriichi looked at you with his soft maroon eyes as he cupped your face. “We sensed your troubles.”

Your furrowed your eyebrows. “My troubles?”

Michikatsu’s hands were gliding a little bit higher onto your thigh. “Yes, your arousal.”

You didn’t know if you were blushing because of the embarrassment of being caught or the feeling of his hands being so close to your core. It also didn’t help that Yoriichi lowered his head closer to your face and talked in his soft beguiling voice. “There is no need to be ashamed, Y/N. You always make sure that we feel good. You care about us so much, never seeing a monster in us. We want to give it back to you…” With each word he came closer, until his lips were on yours. His kiss was so soft and loving that you sighed into the kiss. Yoriichi took that as an invitation for his tongue. 

While Yoriichi distracted you with his sensual kiss, you felt Michikatsu slowly dragging your pants along with your underwear down and spreading your legs. “Brother, she smells so intoxicating…” You felt his breath close to your pussy.

Yoriichi, who let go of you briefly to let you catch a breath, answered his brother. “Her lips are sweeter than anything I’ve tasted before.”

Michikatsu did not wait and licked at your slick like a hungry cat and groaned. “You are right… She tastes like heaven…” With these words he dove into your core and lavished on your juices. You let out a surprised moan as you threw your head back. Your hand grabbed desperately at Yoriichi’s yukata who just watched you, fascinated, and then kissed you again. But he didn’t stay on your lips for long. His mouth traveled down your neck, nibbling at the soft skin there. You felt how his hands were slowly pushing up your loose shirt to cup one of your boobs and massaging it slowly with one hand. His mouth also found his destination and kissed and sucked on your other nipple. 

So many sensations at the same time and you were not sure what to focus on. The knot inside you tightened, and suddenly everything exploded. You came with a loud moan as you threw your head back once again. 

Michikatsu’s lower eyes were closed, his face glistening in your juices. He pushed a single finger into you just to let Yoriichi lick it off. You watched the interaction between them both. It was like he wanted him to know how you tasted. You saw how Yoriichi’s pupils dilated as he tasted your sweet nectar. It was such a lewd image that it made you sigh in anticipation.

You heard your bedsheet ruffle and watched as the brothers swapped their places. Suddenly Michikatsu was in your face, kissing you greedily on the mouth, not letting you take a breath. You were able to taste yourself on his lips but you didn’t mind it at all. Not even that he used his teeth, because all of that was washed away by Yoriichi's tongue and mouth, who was now the one eating you out.

There was a clear difference between the two. Yoriichi was definitely gentler, as were the tongue strokes along your outer labia. Or the way he sucked on your clit. Your left hand was on his head, tangled into his soft waves as you pushed him closer to your cunt, feeling how close you were again.

Your other hand was on Michikatsu, who was pinching your nipples, making you wince and twitch every time, forcing you to keep your attention on him. It was a lot to handle. Lots of feelings and desires at once that you didn't know how to deal with. But they were so strong, able to hold you still while they feasted on you.

Yoriichi hit a point with his tongue that made you come with a loud cry. The waves of the orgasm were so intense that it left you trembling. You had never cum twice in a row in your life.

Yoriichi wiped his face with the back of his hand. Both brothers watched you in awe as you layed there, exhausted from your orgasm.

“She is so beautiful… I want to mark her.”

“Later, when we are inside of her.”

“I am not sure if her bed is able to carry us three.”

“Yes, we should move her to our room with the futons.”

You were not able to distinguish who said what, since your brain felt like mush, but that was not important. You were suddenly lifted up and carried by someone. Your cheek resting on a strong chest. You realized that you were all naked. When did they undress you? You opened your eyes slowly to see his beautiful maroon eyes. “Yori-kun…”

You felt his lips on your forehead and then on your lips again, making you sigh again and heating up the desire in your lower belly. 

“Do you think she can take us both?

“She is stronger than you think.”

“I know.” These two words were said in such loving affection that it made your heart flutter.

“Hey… I am still here,” you protested. “You both prepped me so well I… I think I can handle that.”

"Oh, you do?” The first time in your life you saw how Michikatsu smirked at you as he snatched you away from Yoriichi and sat you down on his lap. 

You felt his hardened cock close to your core, but your eyes were fixated on that smirk of his. He was “...gorgeous…” You leaned forward, your hands on his muscular chest as you kissed him oh so softly. It seemed like he didn’t expect that softness. Never did he expect anything, though he deserved all the softness and kindness.

You poured all your love into the kiss, playing with his hair, nudging his tongue against yours and biting at his lower lip. He groaned and got impatient. He picked you up by your thighs and placed you on the tip of his dick and let you sink down very slowly. “Michi..!” You whimpered and shuddered at the fullness and how good it felt. 

He bottomed out and didn’t move, letting you adjust. Until you moved your hips. “Impatient human,” he murmured as he started sucking on your tit.

You didn't stay still though as you slowly moved your hips and started riding him. His hands grabbed your thighs tightly to help you. Michikatsu couldn’t help but sigh at the feeling of your tightness around him. Gosh, it felt so good hearing those noises coming out of him, knowing that you were the cause of it. Making you feel that you had a tiny bit of control even if it was not like that at all.

Suddenly you felt his hands on your waist, moving up to cup your breasts and kneading them; you also felt his lips kissing along your spine, making you shiver as you still moved on top of Michikatsu. You smiled and when his kisses reached your shoulder, you tried to turn your head to look at him, to give him a kiss. Yoriichi came closer but you were interrupted by Michikatsu, who grabbed your chin and turned your head back to him, just to claim your lips harshly and groan into the kiss. 

“H-Hey-” you panted after he left you breathless. “Stop being jealous. I want to kiss Yoriichi too!”

Michikatsu was about to respond when Yoriichi picked you up into his arms without warning. With one fluid movement Michikatsu’s dick slid out of you and you could only go “Oh!” at the sudden feeling of emptiness. Even Michikatsu breathed out harshly at the sudden change and glared at you both.

“Now it's my turn.” You giggled at him teasing his brother and slung your arms over Yoriichi’s neck, your legs around his waist. It was clear that he missed your kisses and you were glad to give him all he could ever want. You started kissing him all over his face - his cheek, his nose, his eyes, and then his lips. You both couldn’t hold back moaning into the kiss when he suddenly sheathed himself into you. You at the fullness he was giving you, and him because you were so tight around his cock.

You marveled at his strength as he held you up so easily, starting to move inside of you at a slow pace. You felt safe in his arms; you knew he wouldn’t even think of dropping you.

You felt the jealous glare on your back and it didn’t take long until Michikatsu got up to stand behind you. One of his hands pushed your hair aside so he was able to kiss and nibble on your left shoulder. You felt his chest pressed on your back as his fingers slid up to spread your wetness and lube you up with additional saliva. It was a strange feeling, but not unwelcome, as Yoriichi’s careful thrusts distracted you from Michikatsu’s motions behind you.

Soon enough, he retracted his fingers and replaced them with his tip. He was so careful with you - a contrast to his earlier roughness - moving in tandem with Yoriichi to bring you pleasure rather than pain. The feeling of them both inside you was overwhelming and you didn’t know what else to do other than to hold tightly onto Yoriichi’s shoulder, your nails digging into his skin. 

Michikatsu’s hands joined Yoriichi’s on your thighs. It felt as if the heat of their touch burned you to the core and even if you wanted to get out, it was impossible. You were placed so tightly between the two brothers, moving in sync into you, you could not move at all.

One of your hands reached behind you so you could grab onto Michikatsu’s neck. The other one still gripping onto Yoriichi. The angle changed, and you saw stars, clenching tightly around both of them making them both groan. They sped up, the pleasure bringing tears to your eyes.

“Please…!” You begged, not knowing what for, but it seemed like they knew.  

You were not sure if you saw it correctly as your brain was not able to comprehend anything logical at that moment but you saw a change in Yoriichi’s face as if he was communicating with his brother. 

The knot inside you tightened for the third time that night. You cried out their names as they thrusted harder into you making your vision blur. This time your release was more intense than you’d ever experienced, but before it could ebb away you felt teeth on both of your shoulders.

You could only cry out and everything went black.

~ ~ ~

Ah shit... Why does my shoulder hurt so much?

You woke up between two muscle-bound bodies and didn't know where you were until you remembered the last night. “Oh fuck…” you whispered and immediately put your hand over your mouth when someone started to grumble in annoyance. Did you wake one of them? Suddenly you were pulled by a strong hand and pressed against a muscular chest. “Stop thinking too much, human, sleep a little bit more. You need rest.”

You looked up into the face of Michikatsu, who had narrowed one of his lower eyes to look at you. You couldn't contradict him because you felt tiredness overcoming you again and you fell back into a deep sleep, safe in his arms.

You woke up again, but this time on Yoriichi's chest, who was playing with your hair. “Good morning.”

“Good morning…” You yawned and looked around, realizing that you both were alone on the futons. “Where is Michikatsu…?”

“He is preparing a bath for you. How do you feel?” He watched you as he waited for your answer.

How did you feel? You were not sure if you thought about last night. Did you regret it? No… But your shoulders were killing you. “My shoulders hurt and I feel sore, but that’s it.”

“Oh, that’s because we marked you.” 

“Marked me?”

“Yes,” he smiled at you, “We are now mates.”

Mates… Wait what?! Was that even possible between a human and demons? You heard about this rumour that demons were able to mate each other, but fuck… This was the last thing you ever expected. “What will happen now?”

“First of all you are going to take a bath while we take care of you.” Michikatsu appeared at the door frame as he looked at the both of you, laying naked on top of each other.

~ ~ ~

Even if it was weird in the beginning you quickly got used to the idea of being mated to both of your demons. You hadn’t been sure what to do with the situation and called your friend, who just told you that she had also got mated with her demon. It was not a common thing at all, actually unheard of, but here you were, having not one but two demon mates.

You asked them if that was something common, to have two demons, but they shook their heads. “It’s probably because we are twins and very attached to each other. Perhaps it was inevitable we would share a mate,” Yoriichi told you, while he nuzzled his face into your hair.

“Who would have thought that we would mate with a clumsy human?” You saw the smirk on Michikatsu’s face that now happened to appear more after that night. He seated himself next to you both and snatched you away from Yoriichi again. It seemed like a game between the two brothers at this point - as if they were not able to share a toy.

You faux-sulked. You just took his face into your hands and gave him a long loving kiss. Then you felt how he placed something on your lap. 

It was a wooden carving of a woman with two tall men at her sides and looking closer, you realized it was the three of you. The gift nearly made you spill tears, touched by his gesture of love.

[cutielando]

mr. and mrs. | o.p.

synopsis: in which you finally get married

my masterlist

Oscar and Y/N.

Y/N and Oscar.

Everyone knew them, everyone loved them.

Ever since the young Australian lad had entered the Formula 1 world, Y/N had entered it with him. Always by his side, always attending his races while also attending university.

They had been together for many years, practically having invented the term “highschool sweethearts”. Despite Oscar’s busy schedule and Y/N being at university, they always made it work, never letting the distance affect their relationship.

Moving together to the UK had represented the first sign that they were both in it for the long ride. Packing up their entire lives and moving across the globe to follow their dreams proved that their relationship and the love they had was real.

Real and pure.

When Oscar got the opportunity to drive in Formula 1 and Y/N started her studies, the time they spent together shortened by a significant amount, but they managed to make it work.

They talked on the phone every day, texting when neither of them could speak on the phone, they took every opportunity to visit each other when they had free time, with Y/N visiting Oscar at his races or Oscar coming home when he would have 2 weeks off between races.

They made it work.

But Oscar wasn’t satisfied. He needed something more. He needed something that would put his mind at ease when he would be away.

He needed to officially make you his.

Towards the end of the season, you had a few weeks off uni and decided to join your boyfriend in Qatar for the Grand Prix.

You hadn’t really chosen the best race to attend, the heat and the humidity making it really strenuous on your already tired body. But seeing the smile that Oscar had while doing the grid walk with you by his side made it worth it.

Being there for Oscar’s sprint win had been the highlight of your entire year. Seeing him cross the checkered flag first, seeing his name on that first position on every monitor around the paddock, the feeling was unlike anything you had ever felt before.

Up until the moment Oscar got out of the car.

He made his way over to where you were waiting for him after he celebrated a little with the team, taking off his helmet and balaclava and giving them to one of his assistants.

“How about that?” he asked, chuckling as he pulled you into his arms, careful not to squeeze you too tightly because he was sweaty.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Os. I can’t believe I was here for your first win” you said, your voice muffled because you had your face buried in the crook of his neck.

“It’s technically not considered a win bec-”

“Shut up and enjoy the moment” you interrupted, making him chuckle and continue hugging you.

As he let go of you, you didn’t notice him reaching for something behind his back, not even his assistant subtly handing him something as he appeared again from the garage. All you could focus on was him, and nothing else around you.

It only really hit you when Oscar lowered himself down on one knee in front of you, a red velvet box in his hand.

“Oh my God” you said, your eyes widening and your hands flying up to your mouth.

All around you, the McLaren team gathered in a circle, phones ready and cameras rolling to catch the sweet moment on camera.

“Y/N, I don’t even know whether words will suffice to say what I want to say right now. You’ve been by my side since we were kids, you moved to the UK with me and left your entire family in Australia just for me, and I can’t even begin to explain how much that meant to me. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, I frankly don’t think I could survive on my own if you weren’t here. I want to grow old with you, I want to have kids with you and build the life we’ve always talked about having. Y/N, will you marry me?” the words got stuck in your throat, so you settled for nodding feverishly.

The entire team around you cheered, but you could only see Oscar. As he got up and slid the ring on your left hand, you threw yourself into his arms and softly cried, the moment far too emotional to be able to hold back.

Your engagement had become national news in a matter of a couple of hours. Every media channel from the world had written about Oscar’s proposal in Qatar, speculating about when the wedding would be and whatnot.

It didn’t even feel like it had really happened when you stared at the ring on your finger, the feeling foreign but so welcome and like it was meant to be.

You and Oscar had multiple talks about when you would get married, where you would have the wedding and many other problems that came with being away from home and everyone’s families.

Which is why you decided to have the wedding back home in Australia.

After the season was finished and the winter break came, you and Oscar had started planning the wedding, which you settled to have after the last race before the summer break. He had already sent invitations out to the rest of the drivers, all of them very eager to attend the young lad’s wedding.

Lando was especially thrilled, but couldn’t help making jokes about how he had never thought Oscar would be the one getting married so young.

“What did you do to him, Y/N? You charmed him pretty damn well” he’d always joke whenever you guys would hang out in the garage before a race.

Yours and Oscar’s mothers took care of most of the things regarding the venue, the flower arrangements and catering, wanting to take the load off of you while you were halfway across the world.

The only thing that you had to worry about was picking your wedding dress and flying over to Australia to get married.

And when the day had finally come, excitement flowed through your veins.

Nicole and Oscar’s sisters had helped do your hair and make-up, your mother only watching as she sobbed quietly in the background.

“Mom, you’re gonna make me cry too if you don’t stop” you told her as you watched her through your mirror, making the other girls laugh.

“I just can’t believe my baby is getting married” she laughed, wiping her tears and walking up to stand behind you.

You smiled and took her hand, mostly to calm your nerves as well.

You were really getting married. And to the love of your life, which was a plus.

After you were prepped and ready to go, your father came to fetch you to walk you down the aisle. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you held his arm tightly and clutched the flower bouquet tightly in your other hand.

But your nerves disappeared like they had never even been there when the doors opened and you locked eyes with Oscar waiting for you at the end of the aisle, Logan beaming behind him as his best man.

The ceremony went by in a blur, the only focus on your part being on Oscar. You only vaguely remembered saying your vows and saying “I do”, your memory only having imprinted the first kiss you two shared as husband and wife.

You were positive that nothing could ever top this moment, getting married with all of your friends and families present, stepping into your new life with Oscar by your side.

Nothing could ever be better.

Nothing could top you becoming Mrs. Piastri.

Being Mr. and Mrs. Piastri.

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younger actress!reader x drew starkey smau

summary in which you and drew run into some fans and it only fuels the rumors

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ynupdates posted photos!

liked by starkeyluvr , tsitpfan and others

ynupdates got to meet y/n and drew when i was out last night! they were with the rest of obx cast and chris but i didn’t get to meet the all of them! y/n was so nice and drew is so hot i love my life

tagged yourusername drewstarkey

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username omfg omfg omfg

username i knew the casts became friends after hellraiser came out with y/n and drew but seeing it changes things

↳ username they were friends before hellraiser because lilah introduced them!

username are they dating?

↳ username goodbyeeeee men and women can be friends

username y/n living our dream

username first chris and now drew? seems like y/n is just trying to date whoever she can from work

yourusername ope— not the bad angle!☹️

↳ ynupdates omF I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR TAKING PICS AND TALKING TO ME I LOVE YOU DREW TOO OMFG

↳ yourusername i love you more<3 i loved being able to meet you!!!!

↳ yourusername drewstarkey found her!

↳ ynupdates you were talking about me?!?? OMFG IM SCREMAING

↳ drewstarkey hey!!! we found her!😁

↳ ynupdates OMFGG AGWIKWUS

username no bc why do i ship y/n with chris and drew at the same time??

username they have to be dating! i saw them hanging out alone last week!! i didn’t want to bother them because they were having dinner , but it didn’t look friendly!

↳ username i need to know everything

username i need season three of tsitp right neowwww

↳ username bc why do we have to wait so long😭

yourusername posted to their story!

drewstarkey replied to your story!

no photo credit is crazy

also a premiere throwback when the next season doesn’t come out until next year is ridiculous. you’re edging us at this point

ilydrwstrky tweeted!

the fact that y’all are saying there’s so many signs pointing to drew dating y/n is ridiculous! y’all are delusional and reaching atp. they met thru lilah ( her dad is drew’s boss and her coworker is y/n ) and so the two casts of tsitp and obx hang out. that’s it! y’all are sad!

35 replies | 107 retweets | 439 likes | 10 favorites

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↳ username i fear you’re being more delusional than the shippers queen

↳ username we’ve been over this people! stop shipping real human beings!

↳ username personally , i’m going to stay in my yndrew bubble while you stay jealous that drew’s never going to pick you

↳ username there’s so many threads on x alone that support and feed into the rumor of them being together , but i seriously hope not. they met when she was 19 and he was 27. did somebody say leo dicaprio?

an first chapter out. first social media fic out. so pls tell me u love it before i crash out💋

taglist @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

[neuvistar]

❝ MY STAR, MY DAUGHTER. ❞ signed: boothill . wc. 791

— featuring ┊boothill x fem!reader

— warnings / content warnings ┊sfw (lil bit of angst if u squint) . major spoilers abt boothill’s story. girldad boothill girldad boothill!!, established relationships (marriage), mentions of pregnancy, just pure fluffiness which hurts my heart | special tags . @rinneverse @mewnbuns

— a/n ┊this is VERRRRYYYY short n somehow took quite a bit bc readers block was eating my ass but i like how this turned out :3 if i see one more tt abt boothill’s silly (not so silly) backstory i will sob uncontrollably :,)

this was a blessing from the aeons themselves.

you were pregnant, with a daughter.. his kid, his flesh and blood. boothill closed his eyes, fingers gently stroking your belly in slow, comforting circles. you could feel his chest heaving softly, his breaths growing deeper and more laboured, signaling his fading consciousness. your husband’s arm loosened, draping over your belly and chest. “.. baby, thank you for this gift. son of a nice lady, yer fudgin’ strong for carryin’ our baby girl inside of ya.”

boothill was beyond excited, your husband couldn’t believe it.. after all these years, he couldn't shake the feeling of gratitude; he was creating a family, a future together with you, a future he could’ve had with his first daughter he had lost and grieved for years. in his eyes, this was his blessing, his second shot at being a father. your heart ached for your husband. you knew about his past and experiences, he told you many times already.. a story you can’t help hold dear to your heart. for boothill, the little baby girl he lost on that fateful day.. was the day he lost everything. the pain of her absence was immense and left a void that no amount of time could heal, sending him in a spiral of grief that engulfed him wholly.

but yet.. when he heard the news of your pregnancy a few months ago, boothill felt that little spark of light erupt once more with pure joy.. the glow he lost many years ago, returned with a new sense of hope, a new sense of hope for the future he’s always wanted. the joy and excitement he felt was a welcome reprieve from the grief that had consumed his soul for so long, overcoming his deepest regrets. he couldn’t wait for this little rascal to grow, experience the beauty of life herself, explore the world around her with curiosity and wonder.. teaching her about all the things he knew. maybe even tell her about the older sister she could’ve had. boothill wanted to see her smile, dress her up in pretty little princess dresses, help her walk her first steps, he wanted to experience and see it all. all he wanted was to see his daughter grow in-front of his eyes, something he had failed to see with his first.

to boothill, his flesh and blood forming inside of you was his second chance at fatherhood. he promised himself he’d pour all his love and energy into raising the baby with you, seeking a renewed sense of purpose and meaning of a father’s love. “i can’t wait for our little girl to grow up, baby.. m’ gonna be the best daddy ever, i’ll tell ya that.”

“you already are, hun. you already are.”

“heh.. rely on me from now on, ‘kay? ‘gonna protect you and her.” your husband leaned in, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before moving to brush his lips against yours, tenderly.. his thumb forming gentle circles on your belly. “always darlin, always.” boothill smiled crookedly, a tear glistening in the corner of his eye. the cyborg leaned in, his forehead still touching yours as spoke softly.. his words destined for the bundle of joy growing within you. "little one," boothill whispered, his voice filled with love. " mommy and i have been talking. both so fudgin’ excited to meet ya. princess, we’ve been workin’ hard to make sure that when ya join us, you'll have everythin’ ya need. ‘going to shower you with love ‘n affection.. promise to be there for ya, to teach ya and guide ya. mama and daddy’re a team, ‘n we'll be the best parents we can be, just for you,”

your husband paused for a moment, allowing the love in his words to resonate before continuing. ".. ‘can't wait t’hear your first cry, ‘feel ya in my arms, kiss your forehead. mama and i love ya more than anythin’ else in this world. so.. for now, jus’ keep growin’ healthy and strong, okay?"

boothill reached over, taking your hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze as his thumb brushed over your knuckles. your husband gazed back up at you, offering you a small smile as he spoke to the little girl, puckering his lips to leave a gentle peck to your belly. “heh.. jus’ so ya know, s’ your daddy, babygirl. can’t wait t’squeeze those chubby cheeks, roll you up in a marshmallow usin’ daddy’s good-old red scarf.. i can’t wait t’love ya. love ya as much as the universe. y’know why, darlin’?” he paused, nuzzling his nose against the warmth of your belly, “because you’re my star, sweetie. the star that lit up mommy and daddy’s life,”

“my star, my daughter.”

[inkspiredwriting]

The Diner of Destiny - Part 2

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: Okay, some of you wanted a second part. So I thought why not? I've never written a second part to any of my stories, so I'm not so sure if the second part is any good.

Warnings: spoilers for season 4 episode 5-6, angst

Five wandered through the fractured remains of countless timelines, driven by a singular purpose: to find y/n, the woman he had unwittingly erased from existence. He had become a phantom, slipping between realities like a shadow, his resolve hardening with each failed attempt. Every timeline, every world was a dead end, a cruel reminder of the life he had obliterated with one careless choice. But giving up was never an option. He had to find her.

Weeks blurred into months as he tirelessly pursued the faintest hints of her existence. Fragmented memories, distorted whispers, and fleeting visions of a woman whose face he had never truly known. Each clue led him deeper into the labyrinth of time, and each step weighed heavier on his conscience. He was close—he could feel it.

Finally, one day, in a timeline that felt strangely still, as though it had been waiting for his arrival, Five found her.

She was sitting in a small, secluded garden, surrounded by overgrown ivy and vibrant flowers. The sun cast a warm, golden light over the scene, but there was an air of melancholy that clung to the place, as if it remembered the things that had been lost. Y/n was there, her back to him, her head bowed as she absentmindedly traced patterns in the dirt with a stick. She looked almost like a statue—beautiful, but untouchable, frozen in a moment that he had shattered.

Five approached her cautiously, his heart pounding in his chest. His footsteps crunched softly on the gravel path, and y/n looked up, startled. Her eyes met his, and for a brief, agonizing moment, it was as though she recognized him. But then the flicker of familiarity vanished, replaced by confusion.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice tinged with wariness but not fear. There was a gentleness in her tone that cut Five deeper than any anger could have.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry, and for the first time in a long time, he hesitated. How could he explain the unimaginable? How could he make her understand what he had done?

“My name is Five,” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m not sure how to say this, but… you were supposed to be someone important to me. To all of us, actually. But I made a mistake, a terrible mistake, and I… I lost you.”

Y/n’s brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of his words. “Lost me? I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. We’ve never met before. How could you have lost me?”

Five’s chest tightened with the weight of his guilt. “You’re right. We’ve never met. But we should have. I was supposed to find you, fall in love with you. You were supposed to be my anchor, the person who kept me—and all the other versions of me—grounded across the timelines. But instead, I got involved with someone else, someone named Lila.”

At the mention of Lila’s name, Y/n’s expression softened, but only slightly. “Lila?” she echoed, the name unfamiliar and distant.

Five nodded, his voice trembling. “Yes. I thought I was making the right choice at the time, but it was the wrong one. Choosing Lila… it erased you from our lives. You were supposed to be there, and because of me, you weren’t. I took away your life, your future, and I didn’t even know it until it was too late.”

Y/n stared at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of deception or malice. But all she saw was a man haunted by his mistakes, a man who had come to her not for forgiveness, but for something even more elusive.

“What do you want from me?” she asked quietly, her voice laced with a sorrow she didn’t fully understand.

Five closed his eyes for a moment, gathering the strength to continue. “I don’t know if I can make things right, but I had to find you. I had to tell you what happened, even if it doesn’t change anything. I’m sorry, y/n. I’m sorry for what I took from you, for what I took from all of us. I just… I wanted you to know that you mattered. That you were supposed to matter.”

Y/n looked down at the ground, her hand still clutching the stick. She was silent for a long time, and Five feared that his words had only hurt her more, that there was nothing left to say. But then, she spoke, her voice soft and distant.

“Do you really believe we could have been happy?” she asked, almost to herself.

Five’s heart ached at the question, at the lost possibility of what could have been. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “But I would have liked to find out.”

Y/n nodded, her expression unreadable. “I can’t remember you,” she said softly. “But something in me feels… something. Maybe it’s just the idea of what could have been. Or maybe… maybe there’s something more.”

Five watched her, his breath catching in his throat. This was it—the moment that could change everything. But even as hope flickered within him, he knew the truth. He had come too late. The damage was done, and there was no going back.

“I wish I could change what happened,” he whispered. “But all I can do is tell you the truth. You deserved so much more than what I left you with.”

Y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with a sadness that went beyond words. “Maybe we were never meant to be,” she said quietly. “Maybe… maybe this was always how it was supposed to end.”

Five shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. “No. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. But it’s what I’ve made it. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Y/n stood slowly, the stick falling from her hand as she faced him fully. “I don’t know if I can forgive you,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I appreciate that you tried to make things right. Even if it’s too late.”

Five nodded, the tears finally spilling over as he met her gaze. “I’ll never stop trying to make it right,” he vowed. “Even if I never see you again, I’ll keep looking for a way to fix this.”

Y/n gave him a small, sad smile, the kind of smile that spoke of acceptance and resignation. “Goodbye, Five,” she said softly. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, her figure growing smaller and smaller until she disappeared into the distance. Five stood there, alone in the garden, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. He had found her, but he had also lost her—again.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the garden in a blanket of twilight, Five knew that this was his burden to bear. He had made a choice, and now he would live with the consequences for the rest of his existence. The woman who was supposed to be his anchor, his salvation, was gone, and he was the one who had pushed her away.

And so, with a heavy heart and a mind full of regrets, Five turned and walked back into the shadows, disappearing from the world that could have been his. The timelines would go on, fractured and unstable, and he would continue his endless search for redemption. But deep down, he knew the truth—some things could never be undone. And some losses were meant to be permanent.

The garden, now empty and silent, bore witness to a moment that had passed, a possibility that had slipped through time’s fingers. And as the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, Five’s silhouette faded into the night, carrying with him the memory of what could have been, and the sorrow of what never was.

[mononijikayu]

i love you so — nanami kento.

One evening, as you watched the sunset together from your porch, Kento spoke, his voice filled with a sense of finality and peace. "I didn’t think I’d live long enough to retire from all of this." he admitted, the hint of a smile on his lips. "But being here with you… it feels like we’ve made it." You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. "We did," you whispered. "And now, we can live the life we always dreamed of." Kento’s arm wrapped around you, pulling you close. "I couldn’t have done any of this without you, sweetheart." he said quietly. "Thank you… for staying." You closed your eyes, the sound of the waves crashing softly in the distance. "There’s nowhere else I’d rather be."

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Post-Shibuya Arc, R-18, Smut, Oral (F! Receiving) P to V Sex, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Husband and Wife, Friendship, Husband! Nanami, Reader! Wife, Fluff, Drama, Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Fix-It, Humor, Domesticity, Family Life, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Idiots In Love, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Pining, Nanami Being A Great Husband;

WORDS: 6.8k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is was in a queue. i remember having a bad stomach ache writing this and just really giving up on writing because i really was not having a good day. this is not the last we'll see of sorcerer nanami. and god, we deserve a lot of fix-its for the ending. i'll give it to yall once the exam era is over. the upcoming stuff will be from queued up stuff. but thank you for being patient. i love you all!!! enjoy <3

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next: say so.

YOU WERE GLAD THAT YOUR HUSBAND WAS LIVE. From this moment on, you knew that there was nothing but relief now. Sleepless nights in recovery as he gets better, staying by his side most days as he tries to get himself better every single day. You yourself halted any production on your upcoming book, taking leave despite the amount of workload that you have to deal with. None of that mattered.

You just wanted to be there for your husband. Everything else can wait. Every little bit of the world can stop. You just wanted to be here with your husband. He was your everything. You did not want to miss a single thing. Because the gods know you were only happier, more relieved, knowing your husband is alive. Kento was here, and that was all you were happy about. 

As you sat by Kento's bedside, the room was quiet, save for the occasional beep of the medical equipment. His chest rose and fell in steady, rhythmic motions, a reassuring sign that he was slowly, but surely, recovering. You held his hand tightly, feeling the warmth of his skin, and that alone was enough to soothe the ache that had been gnawing at your heart for weeks.

"You're still here." Kento's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of both surprise and gratitude. “Sweetheart, I was going to be out later today. They would have called you.”

"Of course I am." you replied, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. " And that hardly matters. I’m not going anywhere."

Kento gave a small, tired smile, his fingers curling weakly around yours. "You should be working on that book of yours… your editor—"

"She can wait. None of that matters. You know that." you interrupted gently, squeezing his hand. "You’re more important."

He sighed, a blend of relief and exasperation. "You’re going to get in trouble."

You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping your lips. "Let them be mad. I’m not missing a single moment of this, Kento. I almost lost you." Your voice trembled slightly, betraying the depth of your fear. "I don’t care about anything else right now. Just you."

His eyes softened as he looked at you, a quiet understanding passing between you both. "I’m sorry, sweetie." he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "For worrying you."

"You don’t have to be, my love." you whispered. "You’re here. That’s all that matters. And I’ll be here every step of the way. Every appointment, every session with Ieiri–san, every movement therapy… I’ll be there."

Kento closed his eyes briefly, the weight of your words sinking in. "Thank you," he said after a long pause, his voice thick with emotion. "For everything."

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "We’re in this together." you whispered. "And I’m not going anywhere."

Months passed, and with each day, Kento grew stronger. The slow but steady process of recovery, while challenging, had brought you even closer. You watched with quiet pride as Kento regained his strength, the grueling hours of movement therapy gradually paying off.

His once rigid, exhausted frame was replaced by the poised and determined man you had always known. There was a renewed warmth in his smile, one that hadn’t been there for so long—a smile that reflected the inner peace he was beginning to find.

Shoko's treatments had been a blessing, and the relief of hearing the doctors say that Kento no longer needed constant hospital visits lifted a tremendous weight off your shoulders. The news that he only needed to check in every few months was like music to your ears. He was coming home, truly home.

As you stepped through the door of your house, Kento at your side, it felt like you were walking into a new chapter of your lives. The space felt different now—warmer, more alive.

You could already picture your mornings together, the sound of soft footsteps as Kento would sneak out early for his morning ritual of visiting the neighborhood market. You imagined him returning with a fresh loaf of bread tucked under one arm, and a bottle of fresh cow milk in the other, his face calm and content in the simple act of shopping.

On the first morning he was well enough, Kento insisted on preparing breakfast. You tried to offer help, but he gently waved you off, a small smile on his lips. "Let me take care of this," he said, his tone warm but firm. "You've done more than enough for me."

You watched him move around the kitchen, still a bit slow, but determined. The smell of fresh eggs and toast filled the air, mingling with the quiet hum of morning. The way he set the table, with such careful deliberation, made your heart swell. It was perfect. Simple, but perfect.

Breakfasts became a cherished part of your daily routine, something so small, yet filled with an endless sense of joy. Kento would tell you about the sights he saw at the market, or the latest book he’d started reading at the park nearby.

The two of you would sit by the window, the sunlight spilling in, and laugh about little things, about nothing at all. It was in those moments, you felt time slow down, allowing you to savor every second.

There were no more looming threats, no more hospitals or sleepless nights. Just the quiet, steady rhythm of life together, a life you had both fought so hard to protect. The weight of the past, though never forgotten, had softened into something you could live with.

"You know," Kento said one morning, his voice cutting through the soft clink of breakfast dishes, "I never thought I’d be able to do this again. Just… enjoy the small things."

You looked up from your cup of tea, meeting his eyes. "It’s the small things that matter most," you replied gently. "And I’m just happy that we get to enjoy them together."

Kento nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer. "I wouldn’t have made it without you," he said, his voice full of quiet gratitude.

You reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. "We made it through together. That’s all that matters."

In the silence that followed, the world felt right. No grand gestures, no dramatic moments. Just you, Kento, and the simple joy of being together. Nothing felt more right than this. Your husband let his own cup of tea rise towards his lips. As he took a sip, he put it away to the side.

"Do you remember what I told you about Malaysia?" he asked, his voice low, but filled with a calm certainty.

You nodded, already knowing where this was going. "How could I forget? You always spoke about wanting to settle there, once everything was over."

Kento glanced at you, his gaze thoughtful and tender. "Well, now that I’m officially done with Jujutsu… I think it’s time." He looked away for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. "I’ve always dreamed of living somewhere quieter, where we can have a little peace. No more exorcisms, no more danger." He paused, his eyes meeting yours again. "What do you think?"

The mere thought of a life far from the chaos of Tokyo made your heart ache with hope. "I think it's perfect. A fresh start, just the two of us." you replied softly, your hand finding his. “And I can work from there. My job isn’t going to be a problem, my love.”

Kento squeezed your hand gently, his expression one of contentment. "You’ve been by my side through everything. Now, I want us to live for ourselves. To finally have that peace we both deserve."

A few weeks later, after countless preparations and farewells, the two of you found yourselves on a flight to Kuantan, Malaysia. As the plane descended, the sight of lush greenery, the vast ocean, and the golden sun made you both smile. It felt like the promise of a new beginning.

Once settled in a small, cozy house near the beach, Kento seemed more at ease than you had seen him in years. His once-tense shoulders were relaxed, and his usual seriousness was softened by the tranquility of your new surroundings. You spent your days walking along the shoreline, enjoying the warm breeze, and talking about everything and nothing.

One evening, as you watched the sunset together from your porch, Kento spoke, his voice filled with a sense of finality and peace.

 "I didn’t think I’d live long enough to retire from all of this." he admitted, the hint of a smile on his lips. "But being here with you… it feels like we’ve made it."

You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. "We did." you whispered. "And now, we can live the life we always dreamed of."

Kento’s arm wrapped around you, pulling you close. "I couldn’t have done any of this without you, sweetheart." he said quietly. "Thank you… for staying."

You closed your eyes, the sound of the waves crashing softly in the distance. "There’s nowhere else I’d rather be."

EVERYTHING WAS PERFECT LIKE THIS. The days in Kuantan unfold with a rhythm that feels almost surreal after all that you have been throughMornings begin with the soft call of birds and the gentle hum of the ocean, a sound that soothes the remnants of tension in both of you.

You often wake up before the sun rises, taking comfort in the sight of Kento beside you—his expression unguarded, his brow no longer furrowed in worry. The air is warm, yet fresh, carrying the scent of the sea into your room.

The two of you have created a ritual of watching the sunrise together. Wrapped in a light blanket, you step out onto the balcony, where the sky slowly transforms from deep indigo to a golden hue.

The sight of it never fails to bring a sense of calm, especially as Kento stands beside you, his arm slipping easily around your waist. There’s something about the quiet mornings that feel intimate, as though you’re the only two people in the world, basking in a new life that finally feels your own.

Breakfasts are leisurely affairs, often consisting of fresh tropical fruits and steaming cups of coffee. Nanami has taken to savoring the local flavors with surprising enthusiasm, showing a side of him you hadn’t seen before—one of curiosity and delight in the simple pleasures of life. He’s no longer the man burdened by duty, but someone who has learned to slow down, to breathe.

After breakfast, the two of you wander into town, where the locals have already come to recognize Nanami’s stoic figure and your frequent visits to the markets. Kuantan's streets are bustling, but in a way that’s gentle and inviting, not overwhelming. 

The sea breeze follows you wherever you go, and the chatter of vendors becomes a comforting background noise. You notice how Nanami’s posture is relaxed, his eyes softer as he greets familiar faces or stops to buy ingredients for lunch.

He’s taken up cooking more often, and you enjoy watching him experiment in the kitchen with local recipes, his focus now on perfecting the blend of spices rather than wielding his cursed energy.

One afternoon, while you’re walking through a hidden path surrounded by lush greenery, Nanami suddenly stops. You look up at him, sensing he has something on his mind. His hand slides into yours, firm but gentle, a touch that speaks volumes of the man he is now—steady, grounded, and deeply content.

“I didn’t think I could ever feel this way, sweetheart.” he says, voice low but clear in the quiet of the jungle trail. “There was a time I thought peace was a luxury I’d never have.”

You squeeze his hand, knowing exactly what he means. The life you’ve built here is worlds apart from the chaos and danger you once faced together, but it's the very contrast that makes it so meaningful.

In the afternoons, you often visit the beaches. Teluk Cempedak has become your favorite spot—a place where the white sand meets crystal-clear water, and the two of you can walk for hours without encountering a soul.

Sometimes you swim in the sea, the cool water refreshing against your skin as Kento watches you with a fondness that never fades. His laughter, rare but heartfelt, comes more easily now, especially when you tease him about letting go of his suit in favor of the casual attire of your new coastal life.

It’s in these quiet, intimate moments that you notice the little changes in him. His guard is down, his movements less calculated and more relaxed. He no longer feels the weight of being a sorcerer, of having to constantly protect or fight. Instead, he’s allowed himself to simply be—Nanami Kento, a man enjoying the peace of a life he’s long deserved.

Evenings are your favorite part of the day. You sit on your veranda, facing the open expanse of the sea as the sun sets, casting brilliant hues of orange and pink across the sky. Nanami often sits beside you, a book in hand, though he rarely gets far in his reading. He’s more focused on the sound of your voice as you talk about your day, or simply enjoying the stillness that surrounds you both. Sometimes, when the mood strikes, you’ll put on soft music, and the two of you will dance slowly in the fading light, your bodies swaying in perfect harmony to a rhythm only you can hear.

One night, as you lie together in the gentle darkness, the sound of waves crashing in the distance, Nanami turns to you with a question of his own. “Did you ever think we’d make it here?”

You’re silent for a moment, reflecting on the years that led to this—of all the pain, the battles, the near misses, and the impossible choices. But now, with his arm draped across your waist and his steady breathing beside you, the answer feels simple.

“I always hoped we would, my love.” you whisper, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “It was always a dream, to just go away and be happy together. Being together was always enough. Life exists to be lived when I have you, you know?”

Kento’s lips curl into the faintest of smiles as he pulls you closer. “I know. I feel the same way.”

And as you drift off to sleep, lulled by the sound of the sea and the warmth of Nanami beside you, you know that this peace—this life—was worth every struggle. Here, in Kuantan, you’ve finally found your sanctuary, a place where you and Nanami can truly be free.

The following weeks in Kuantan seem to melt together in a peaceful haze, each day blending into the next in a rhythm you’ve both come to cherish. The routines you’ve settled into feel like second nature now, but they never lose their charm.

Every shared meal, every walk along the beach, every quiet evening under the stars feels like a gift—a stark contrast to the fast-paced, dangerous life Nanami Kento had once lived.

You decide to explore your new home a little deeper as time passes by. Kuantan has more to offer than its beaches, and as much as you love the ocean, there’s something exciting about venturing further into the local culture.

You both find yourselves at the Sungai Lembing Mines, a historical site nestled amidst lush greenery. The air is cooler here, the dense forest canopy providing shade as you explore the remains of the old mining town. Kento, ever the thoughtful observer, takes in the details of the place with quiet interest.

As you walk through the narrow tunnels, dimly lit by soft lights, Kento surprises you by taking your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. You glance at him, his face calm but focused as he guides you through the mine. The place seems to bring out a reflective mood in him.

“I used to think life was about surviving, you know? To come home to you.” he says, his voice echoing slightly in the enclosed space. “I never imagined I’d find a place where I could live—really live. Free from everything, from the pain.”

You smile at his words, understanding the weight behind them. For so long, both of you had lived on the edge, where peace seemed like a distant dream. But now, in this quiet corner of the world, you’ve found a way to truly live, just as he said.

“I’m glad we found it together, my love.” you reply, squeezing his hand gently.

Kento looks at you, his eyes softening with affection. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Later that afternoon, you visit the bustling Pasar Besar, the central market in Kuantan. The vibrant array of fruits, vegetables, spices, and street food is overwhelming in the best way.

You laugh as Kento samples unfamiliar snacks, his face betraying a rare look of surprise when something unexpected hits his palate. It’s moments like this—his subtle humor, the small ways he lets his guard down—that make you fall in love with him all over again.

You spot a stall selling batik cloth and decide to browse through the colorful fabrics. The intricate designs catch your eye, and soon enough, you’re holding up pieces, wondering which would look best as a gift. Nanami, standing beside you with his arms crossed, watches with quiet amusement as you deliberate over the choices.

“You’ll make the right decision, sweetie.” he says, his tone teasing but warm. “You always do.”

“I know I do.” You mumble back to him. “But what if I can’t decide?”

“Then buy as many as you want, sweetie. I’ll pay for it.” He grinned at you, kissing your forehead as you pouted at him. “Go on. Get as much as you like.”

Back at your home by the sea, the evenings continue to be your sanctuary. Tonight, the sky is clear, and the stars are brighter than ever. Kento is in the kitchen, cooking up one of the local dishes he’s learned to perfect—a spicy sambal to go with freshly grilled fish.

You sit at the table, watching him move around the small space with the same precision and care he once applied to missions and battles. There’s something comforting about seeing him this way, so at ease in the simple task of preparing a meal.

When he’s done, the two of you sit on the veranda, plates in hand, enjoying the quiet symphony of the night. The ocean breeze drifts through the air, and the sound of the waves creates a steady, calming backdrop to your meal.

Kento sits across from you, and though his expression remains composed, there’s a softness in his gaze as he looks at you—one that speaks of contentment, of having finally found his place.

As the night deepens, you both remain outside, not wanting to leave the serenity of the moment. The conversation flows easily, dipping into memories of the past but always returning to the present. You talk about everything and nothing—the little details of your day, plans for tomorrow, and the quiet joy of simply being together.

At one point, you catch  Kento standing on the porch, gazing out at the sea. The moonlight shimmered across the water’s surface, casting a silver glow that matched the contemplative look in his eyes. You quietly approached, leaning against the railing beside him, sensing he was lost in thought. His profile was softened by the pale light, yet his expression held a depth of reflection you hadn’t seen in a long time.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The sound of the waves rolling in gently filled the space between you, creating a calm, soothing rhythm. Finally, Kento broke the silence.

“You know, sweetie...” he began softly, his voice low and distant, as though he was speaking more to the sea than to you. “There was a time I didn’t think I’d ever end up living this life with you."

You turned to him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. He continued, still looking out at the endless horizon. "I mean, we had a lovely life in Tokyo. But I wasn’t sure I’d survive long enough to have this—to have you and well... this peace."

There was a long pause as he struggled to find the right words, his hand tightening slightly on the railing. "I thought I didn’t deserve it, you know?" he admitted, his voice barely a whisper now. "Especially with all the things I’ve done… the lives I’ve seen lost." He exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumping under the weight of memories you knew he still carried.

You stepped closer, gently slipping your hand into his. His grip was warm, yet tentative, like he was grounding himself in this moment. You feel a lump form in your throat at his honesty. Your beloved Kento has always been pragmatic, a man who understood the brutal realities of the world, and hearing him speak of those doubts only makes the peace you’ve found more precious.

"And I... I still feel guilty," he continued, his voice thick with emotion. "Letting the kids do what I should be doing as an adult, as the one who’s been through it all. It feels like I abandoned them, like I took the easy way out by choosing this life with you."

The rawness in his confession made your heart ache. You squeezed his hand, feeling the depth of his inner turmoil. "Kento, my love….." you began softly, kissing his hand. "You didn’t abandon anyone. You’ve given so much of yourself to that world... to those kids. No one deserves peace more than you."

He turned to face you then, his eyes reflecting not only the moonlight but also the deep well of emotions he kept hidden. "But how do I live with this peace,sweetie?" he asked quietly. "How do I do it when I know others are still out there, fighting?"

You looked at him for a long moment, choosing your words carefully. "Because you’ve earned it, Kento. You’ve given your life, your time, your energy to protect others. Now, it’s time for you to live. And the kids... they look up to you, not because you’re out there fighting, but because of the wisdom you’ve shared. They’ll carry that with them. They will go on and be stronger because of what you taught them. Okay?”

He fell silent again, but this time, there was less tension in his posture. The guilt and doubt, though still present, seemed to soften in the wake of your words. He sighed deeply, a breath that felt like the release of a burden he'd been carrying for far too long.

"You’re right." he murmured, almost to himself. "I just need to let go." His gaze returned to the horizon, but this time, there was a quiet acceptance in his eyes.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, the two of you standing there in the quiet night, the sound of the sea a constant, gentle reminder that you were here, together. In that moment, you both found peace—not in the absence of guilt or regret, but in the choice to live for the present, for each other.

"I’m just glad you’re here, my love." you whispered, your voice barely audible against the sound of the waves.

Kento turned his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "I’m glad I’m here too." he replied, his voice full of quiet gratitude.

“You’ve done all you could, my love.” you say softly, reaching across the table to take his hand. “Take your rest. Enjoy the fruits of your labor. Live, okay?”

Kento looks at you, his gaze filled with a tenderness that takes your breath away. “Together.”

Your lips echo the happiest smile you could ever give him. “Together.”

The night stretches on, and as you both sit in the comforting silence, hand in hand, you realize that these quiet, intimate moments are the culmination of everything you’ve been through. You made it. You were here at the finish line.

And here, in Kuantan, you’ve found a home not just in the place, but in each other. And for the first time in what feels like forever, the future seems bright, filled with the promise of many more peaceful nights like this one, together.

THE SUNSETS WERE ONE TO LOOK FORWARD TO. Everything about it was ever so breathtaking. You both couldn't understand what beauty was until you both saw the sunset for the first time. Somehow, the world had only come to make sense when you saw Kuantan's wonderous sunset for the first time.

The beach is bathed in the soft hues of the setting sun, the sky awash with shades of pink, orange, and purple. The gentle sound of the waves crashing against the shore forms a soothing backdrop, but it’s the heat building between you and Kento that holds your attention. The sand beneath your skin feels cool, a sharp contrast to the warmth radiating from his body as he hovers over you, his presence grounding yet electrifying.

His lips find your inner thigh first, a featherlight kiss that sends a ripple of anticipation through you. His breath is warm against your skin, and with every slow, deliberate movement, Kento teases you, heightening the tension that has been simmering all evening. His large hands caress your hips, his touch gentle yet firm, as if reminding you that you’re completely his in this moment.

He hums lowly, the vibrations of his voice traveling through you, sending shivers down your spine. His lips finally move to your womanhood, his touch both reverent and commanding.

You gasp softly, your fingers curling into the sand as his tongue brushes against your most sensitive spot, teasingly slow, savoring every reaction you give him. Each flick of his tongue, every press of his lips, is intentional, calculated to drive you wild.

The soft crashing of the waves matches the rhythm of his movements—slow, steady, and completely overwhelming. You feel your body respond to him in a way only he could elicit, the pleasure building slowly, winding tighter with each stroke of his tongue. He groans against you, the sound deep and satisfied, as if relishing the way your body reacts to him.

Your breath hitches, a soft moan escaping your lips as he pulls you deeper into this intimate dance. His pace remains patient, never rushing, drawing out every second of pleasure as if time itself has slowed down for just the two of you. He knows exactly how to work your body, how to make you feel cherished and consumed all at once.

“Kento…” you whisper, your voice trembling, but all you can hear is his deep hum of approval, his lips never leaving you, his focus entirely on your pleasure.

The intensity of the moment swells with the colors of the sunset around you, the world narrowing down to just him and the sensation of his mouth on you, guiding you toward the brink of bliss.

Nanami’s mouth moves with a calculated intensity, each flick of his tongue deliberate and unhurried, savoring every reaction. His grip on your hips tightens slightly, holding you in place as your body instinctively tries to shift from the overwhelming pleasure building inside you. The sun sinks lower, casting golden light across your skin, but you barely notice anything beyond the sensations Kento is pulling from you.

Your fingers twist into the sand, grasping for something solid as waves of pleasure roll through you. His tongue circles your sensitive nub, the rhythm maddeningly slow, before he pulls back, teasing you with a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. His breath is hot, mingling with the cool ocean breeze, sending a shiver down your spine.

He hums again, the low sound reverberating through your core as he returns his attention to your aching center. His tongue presses against you, swirling, as his fingers trace soft patterns over your thighs. The contrast of his teasing pace with the tight coil of need inside you is almost too much to bear.

"Patience, sweetie, hm?" he murmurs between movements, his voice low and teasing, the same words he used earlier still dripping with that calm authority that only Kento carries. Your body responds to him instinctively, hips bucking ever so slightly toward his mouth, seeking more of him, needing more.

“Kento… please, my love.” you moan, your voice barely audible, but full of raw desire. He smirks against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you’ve surrendered to him completely.

Instead of responding with words, he increases his pace just enough to push you closer to the edge. His tongue moves with a newfound fervor, flicking over your clit with just the right amount of pressure, drawing another soft moan from your lips. The sensation builds, the pleasure tightening low in your belly, curling and winding like a spring ready to snap.

Kento’s grip on your hips grows firmer, holding you steady as your body begins to tremble beneath him. You feel his fingers digging into your skin, grounding you as you teeter on the brink of release. His mouth works you with relentless precision, his movements growing more intense, more focused.

Your breathing becomes shallow, your heart racing as the tension inside you builds, each flick of his tongue sending you closer to the edge. The cool night air mixes with the heat radiating from your body, and with one final, perfect stroke of his tongue, the dam breaks.

A wave of pleasure crashes over you, your back arching as your release floods through you. You cry out his name, your fingers grasping at the sand as your body shakes with the force of your orgasm. Kento stays with you, his tongue moving slowly, gently, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you’re left breathless and trembling beneath him.

He finally pulls away, his lips brushing your thigh one last time before he crawls up beside you, wrapping you in his strong arms. His breath is steady, calm, a stark contrast to the wild thrum of your heartbeat as you come down from your high.

The two of you lie there in the soft glow of the fading sunset, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your release. Nanami presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your arm.

"You’re incredible, sweetie." he whispers, his voice full of admiration as he holds you close, the sound of the waves lulling you into a state of perfect contentment.

Kento’s strong arms around you feel like the safest place in the world as you lie there, his warmth radiating against your skin, contrasting with the cool breeze of the beach. The remnants of your release still pulse through your body, leaving you relaxed and utterly content, the sound of the waves adding to the peaceful rhythm of the moment.

He pulls you closer, resting his chin on top of your head, his fingers still tracing soft patterns along your arm. There's a quiet satisfaction in the way he holds you, as if he’s savoring the moment just as much as you are. The sun has dipped fully below the horizon now, and the sky is painted with deep purples and blues, the stars beginning to peek through the night’s curtain.

You shift slightly in his arms, tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes are soft, reflecting the dim light of the fading day, and there's a small, content smile tugging at the corners of his lips. In the stillness of the night, you can see the depth of his emotions in the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing that matters to him at this moment.

“Kento…” you whisper, your voice soft, still breathless from the intensity of what just happened. There’s something unspoken in the air between you, something deeper than just desire.

He tilts his head down, brushing his lips gently against yours in a kiss that’s slow and tender, filled with the love and care he always shows you. It’s a stark contrast to the raw intensity of just moments ago, but it feels just as intimate, just as consuming.

“I love you, sweetheart.” he murmurs against your lips, his voice deep and full of warmth. “More than I could ever put into words.”

You feel your heart swell at his words, the sincerity in his tone making your chest tighten with emotion. It’s moments like this that remind you just how deeply you’ve fallen for him—his strength, his patience, the way he always knows exactly how to make you feel cherished.

“I love you too, Kento. More than you know.” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. You nuzzle closer to him, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek as you rest your head on his chest. His hand comes up to gently stroke your hair, his touch soothing as you lie together in the quiet.

“Fuck me, my love. Please.” you whisper breathlessly, your voice laced with need. “Need you, Kento.”

The playful edge in your tone catches him off guard, and a smirk dances on his lips. He raises an eyebrow, looking down at you with a mix of amusement and desire, his eyes glinting in the soft moonlight.

“Is that so?” he replies, a teasing lilt in his voice. “After everything we just did?”

You nod, biting your lip, feeling that familiar heat pooling in your belly again. The way he gazes at you ignites that fire within, the hunger mirrored in his own expression. There’s a magnetic pull between you, a need that feels insatiable.

With a low chuckle, Kento shifts, moving to hover over you once more, the cool sand beneath you feeling inviting as the warmth of his body envelops you. The playful teasing in his eyes remains, but there’s also a seriousness in the way he leans closer, his breath mingling with yours.

“How wanton. My precious sweetheart is wanton.” he murmurs, echoing his earlier words but with a different tone. He’s still in control, yet you can sense the excitement building in him as well. He brushes his lips against yours, a soft yet electrifying connection, before trailing kisses down your neck, each one igniting your skin.

Your body responds instinctively, arching into him, craving more of that sweet friction. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, your pulse quickening as he teases you, his hands exploring every inch of you, igniting every nerve ending.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” he whispers, his voice low and gravelly, a hint of challenge lacing his words. The intensity in his gaze makes your heart race, the way he watches you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

You meet his eyes, determination swirling on your own. “I want you, Kento. Now.”

With that, he smiles, a wicked gleam in his eye, and his hands grip your thighs, pulling you closer. The anticipation hangs in the air, thick and intoxicating, as you both lose yourselves in this moment, ready to explore the depths of your desires once again under the fading light of the sunset.

Kento’s own gaze darkens with desire, but a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. "Patience, my dear sweetheart. I told you before." he murmurs, his tone low and teasing. His fingers move with deliberate slowness as he lowers his shorts, pulling down just enough for his thick, veiny cock to spring free. The sight of him makes your heart race.

He doesn't rush. Instead, he takes his time, rubbing his cock between your wet, needy folds, coating himself with your arousal. The sensation is maddening, and every time he slips his cock in just a little before pulling back out, you whine with frustration. You’re desperate for more, for him to fill you.

"You drive me crazy, sweetie." he growls, his large hands gripping your hips firmly. In one smooth motion, he pushes himself inside you, stretching you out in a way that feels so deliciously overwhelming. You gasp, your back arching off the sand as his cock fills you to the brim. He’s big, so big that even just the tip feels like it’s splitting you open.

"So big, Kento,oh—" you moan, your fingers digging into the sand as your body adjusts to the feeling of him buried so deep inside you. His groan rumbles through the air, the sensation of your walls gripping him tightly nearly sending him over the edge.

His hips press forward, and you feel the bulge in your tummy as he nestles himself even deeper into you. His thrusts are slow, controlled, and purposeful, driving you wild with the sweet agony of wanting more.

"You're squeezing me so tight, sweetheart." he grits out, his voice strained as he struggles to maintain his composure. “Too tight.”

Your husband’s slow pace remains deliberate, each slow thrust making you feel every inch of him as he stretches you so fully, so deeply. His hands grip your hips tighter, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you against him, forcing you to take him completely. The sensation is overwhelming—his thick cock filling you, stretching your walls in a way that makes it hard to think of anything but him.

Your moans mix with the sound of the crashing waves, and the setting sun casts a warm glow over both of you, illuminating the scene in a soft, golden light. The contrast between the cool breeze on your heated skin and the fiery pleasure building inside you sends shivers down your spine.

“My love, please. Please….Oh, oh….” you beg, your voice barely a whisper, strained with the need for more. You can feel him twitching inside you, his control faltering slightly as your tightness drives him closer to the edge.

“Let me work you up, a little, hm? Patience, sweetie.” he rasps again, though the way his breathing grows more ragged tells you he’s not far from losing it himself. His cock glides in and out of you with a torturous rhythm, teasing you, keeping you right on the precipice without giving you the release you crave.

Desperate, you rock your hips against him, trying to take more, trying to force him deeper. The movement earns a low groan from him, and suddenly, his grip tightens, his control slipping as he slams into you harder, burying himself completely.

Your body arches beneath him, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as the intense pressure of him filling you sends waves of pleasure radiating through your entire body. His pace quickens, the lazy tease of his earlier movements replaced with the primal need to claim you, to make you feel nothing but him.

“Fuck, sweetie.” he growls, his voice deep and rough with lust. “You’re taking me so well—so tight, so fucking perfect. My little wife. Mine, mine. Only mine.” He thrusts into you harder, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls, hitting spots that make your vision blur.

Your hands grasp at the sand for stability, but it does nothing to ground you as pleasure builds inside you, coiling tight in your core. “Kento, I can’t—” You can barely get the words out, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

He leans down, his breath hot against your ear. “You can, sweetheart. You’re mine. Let go.”

His words, his voice, the feeling of his cock driving deeper and deeper—everything hits you all at once. With a cry, you fall apart beneath him, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy crash over you. Your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper as your orgasm takes over, leaving you breathless and shaking.

Kento groans, the tightness of your release pushing him to the brink. His thrusts grow erratic, his grip on your hips bruising as he chases his own release. With one final, deep thrust, he spills inside you, filling you completely as his body tenses and shudders against yours.

For a moment, the world stands still—the only sounds are the soft crash of waves and your labored breathing. Kento slowly pulls out of you, his cock still throbbing as he collapses beside you on the sand, pulling you into his arms.

The sun dips below the horizon, casting the last of its golden light over the two of you. Wrapped in his embrace, with the warmth of his body still lingering between your legs, you close your eyes, content in the quiet aftermath.

“I love you, Kento. So much. More than you know. ” you whisper, your voice barely audible above the ocean breeze.

He presses a kiss to your temple, his voice soft and tender. “I love you too, sweetheart. But I love you more.”

You laugh softly. “I won’t win against you, aren’t I?”

Kento smiled back, leaning forward to kiss you. “Hm, no. I love you too much, sweetheart. I think I’m willing to fight for the title.”

“Hm….then I will too.” You kiss his jaw, grinning at him. 

He laughs. “We’ll see, sweetheart.”

[riekirei]

retroactive. — nishimura riki

“it’d be easier if you just didn’t ask, but it’d also be easier if she wasn’t his last.”

pairing: boyfriend!riki x afab!reader | genre(s): angst | content/warning: both riki and reader are of legal age in this work, consumption of alcohol, mentions of getting drunk, riki calls reader baby and vice versa

word count: 1.8k

author’s note: i’m back from the dead, hi guys. i hope you enjoy reading thisss. please ignore any typos or grammatical errors (if there are any) and lmk if i missed any warnings.

[🎧 now playing: did you like her in the morning? by NIKI]

you slipped your shoes on, heading out the door. you were on your way to yongsan-gu to accompany your boyfriend, riki, to a get-together at a pub with his friends. it wasn’t really your thing to go out drinking with your boyfriend and a few other people at around 10 pm at night, but you agreed to go.

riki said he’d meet you at a nearby landmark in yongsan-gu as it’d take him just a few minutes to get there since the building he works at was in the district. you call a taxi and make your way there. the ride to the district was short, it took around 20 minutes considering how late in the night it was and how you were just within seoul anyway.

the moment you step out of the vehicle, you walked around for quite a bit before you spotted riki, who stood by a bus stop, leaning on its shade, waiting for you to arrive. you ran up to him, hugging him from behind. riki quickly turned around and greeted you with a big smile on his face. “am i late?” you ask, looking up at him. “nope, looks like your just on time” he responds, showing you the time on his phone’s lockscreen. he wrapped his arm around you and rested his hand on your shoulder. “the pub’s nearby, actually. let’s get going” he says. “okay baby” you reply, taking his hand off your shoulder and locking it with yours as you walk.

after around 5 minutes of walking, you two finally reached the pub. the neon sign fixed on the pub’s entrance flickered and the chatter of people from inside brought the night to life. riki walks in first and you closely follow. you walk past a couple of tables before finding riki’s group of friends settled on a long table further back into the pub. they all greet the two of you as you sat down on the two empty seats. riki’s friends from work, from highschool, and from anywhere else were there, considering most of them knew each other anyway, but you didn’t expect his most recent ex to be there. his ex of 2 years. you didn’t really know that much about riki’s past relationships, but you for sure knew about this one. she was that one girl he really got along with and they just ended up seeing each other. they had so many common interests and personality traits. i mean, it didn’t mean you and him were any less alike, but the fact she was his last just wasn’t something that you could move past by.

“hey? you okay?” riki tapped you on your shoulder, snapping you out of your little zone-out moment. “oh, yeah, sorry” you say, shifting your focus onto the group’s conversation. “so, riki, y/n, how’s things between you two?” heeseung asks. “we’ve been doing well, nearing to our two year anniversary on november actually” riki answers with both of your hands intertwined, resting on his lap. “and our work schedules have loosened up a bit so we’ve been able to see each other a lot often recently” you add. the chat between the whole group continued as you two immersed yourselves into it as well.

the night passes but you can’t help but notice the stolen glances riki’s ex has made with both you and riki. they’ve exchanged some words too while in conversation with the rest of the group. maybe you were just overthinking it? you knew it was a get-together with his friends, and you are his girlfriend after all, so maybe there was no malice or intent of her glances. plus, you and riki have been together for quite some time. but two years? him and her? of course it would be impossible for him to forget. but he was with you now, and he looks like he’s the happiest he’s ever been. there’s no problem there, right? but why has this whole scenario been messing with your brain since the moment you sat down on the table?

you take a shot of soju, slamming the shot glass back down onto the table. you were probably on your third, fourth, maybe even fifth bottle? you don’t know, but you were lowkey getting drunk at that point, actually, everyone at the table was getting drunk at that point. after some time, you all decide to stand up and head home. you weren’t as dizzy, so you were able to slowly stand upright. you sighed to yourself, the night was finally over.

as everyone walked towards the front door to exit the pub, riki’s ex stumbles forward. she probably had gotten sloppy after a few bottles of soju. riki’s hands naturally found their way onto her waist, standing her back upright. “you okay?” he asks. she nods and hums in respond, with heavy eyelids and a face tinted with the color red. you stood there, blankly watching what had just unfolded before you. you didn’t know how to react, you didn’t want to cause a scene. were you just being overly sensitive? it was just coincidental that she so happened to have tripped and riki was right behind her. but, you saw the concern in his eyes and how it was second nature for him to have placed his hands onto her waist. this whole thing was most probably not a new thing to riki. how he’d spend the whole night with her, drinking and having fun, how he’d drive her home in the same ford he drives around now, and how he’d probably walk her inside, making sure she got home safe. was the alcohol getting to you? or were these thoughts coming from your completely sane, rational, sober self?

you let it pass until everyone parted ways. riki walked you to his car which was parked somewhere near his company’s building. he didn’t notice anything wrong the whole walk there, but he sensed the tension as soon as he shut the car doors. the air grew thick. you tried avoiding riki by looking out the car’s window, or mindlessly staring into the road ahead. in his mind, he was trying to work out what he had done wrong. were you just sleepy? were you just tipsy? or were you simply just not in the mood? he got a hint that it may have had something to do with his ex, knowing you and how you think about such things.

the car ride to your apartment was silent, with only the sounds of the engine, the other cars passing by, and the road being heard. you two did not exchange a single word the entire drive. riki parked the car by the sidewalk of your building, switching the engine off. he finally broke the silence by saying “hey, i’ll walk you inside, ‘kay? i don’t want you getting hu-“ but you cut him off halfway “no, riki, it’s alright. i’ll be alright.” “but, baby, it’s like 3 in the morning. it isn’t-“ and you cut him off once more “i said it was alright, didn’t i? just go home, riki.” you said, walking towards the lobby of your apartment building. he walked and followed closely behind you, not letting you go up to your apartment alone, both under the influence and with something going on between the two of you too. “baby, look, i don’t understand what’s wrong? what did i do?” he asks you while looking you straight in the eye. you couldn’t do anything but look away from him as the two of you stood in the elevator going up to the third floor of the building. you storm down the hallway, towards your flat. the tears formed in your eyes, holding them back from streaming down your face. “hey, hey, baby-“ riki says, fastening his pace to keep up with you. you grab your keys and unlock the door, shutting it close as you walk in. he stops the door from closing and grabs your hand, stopping you from walking in further into your apartment unit. “what is it that you want, riki? WHAT?” you exclaim as you finally turn around to come face to face with him. he comes into your apartment, shutting the door behind him before leaning onto it. the tears formed from earlier began to escape the corners of your eyes as you start to sob in front of your boyfriend. “i’m sorry, baby. w-what did i do?” he says, pulling you into his embrace. all you could do was cry in his arms. he caressed your back, rubbing it up and down to relieve you. he repeated the words “i’m sorry” all over and over again. the sight of his disheartened girlfriend in his arms, crying her eyeballs out, shattered him into a million pieces.

“why are you hugging me right now?” you quietly say, wiping your swollen eyes with the palms of your hand. “what do you mean, baby? you’re my girlfriend, why wouldn’t i hug you?” riki answered, with tears running down his cheeks too. “t-then what the hell was that earlier? do you still love her? do you love her more than you love me?” you ask him, looking up at him. you pause. “i saw the way you two looked at each other, how you to conversed and interacted still. and i’m probably stupid for thinking all this, knowing you two have moved onto new relationships, but i don’t know if i can compete with her. and it’s driving me fucking crazy, riki. it’s driving me fucking insane.” you add. “y/n, baby. past is past, okay? i love you and i’ve been the happiest i’ve ever been. being with you, being able to love and care for you, it’s all i could ask for. please don’t think of whatever happened earlier as something different. please don’t take it as a sign that i haven’t moved on just yet. she trips and falls, i catch her, and it ends there, okay? but you could trip and fall a million times, i’d always be there to stand you back upright and it doesn’t end just there. even if you try and fail, i’ll be there for you. even if you cry or weep, i’ll be there wiping your tears. even if you jump with happiness, i’ll be there celebrating with you.” riki responds as tears continue to come streaming down his face. “i love you, y/n, hm?” he holds you tighter. “i love you too, baby. i’m sorry-“ “no, don’t be sorry. it’s okay. we’re okay.” you lightly push yourself out of riki’s embrace and look up to smile at him. you pull him towards your room and you tuck the both of you into your bed.

you drift off into sleep, buried in riki’s nuzzle. he kisses your forehead and finally falls asleep, holding you close til morning.

[fleurisaa]

Sometimes, we find ourselves missing our S/O from our DR so much that it feels like we haven’t seen them in ages. These feelings are real, and they carry a deeper meaning than just longing. They are a sign, a message from our subconscious, that we truly belong in that reality. The connection is already there, even if we haven't shifted yet.

Your Cr-self is just one part of your consciousness, like other DR-selfs, and your mission is shift to a DR you want. All the versions of ourselves we’ve ever imagined—your DR, your S/O—your perfect body, the beauty—the happiness you’ve been seeking, they are ALREADY YOURS.

Every version of ourselves exists in parallel, and we can step into any one of them. We already possess everything we’ve ever dreamed of. The reality where you are fulfilled, loved, and at peace isn’t far away. In fact, it’s closer than you think.

“Your DR is just a thought away.”

In the end, you are not just imagining a better life, a better version of yourself. You are already living it in one of the countless realities out there. Your DR-self is waiting for you. You are that version in every way that matters—now it's just a matter of aligning your mindset with the reality you truly desire.

I just want to tell you to try to let go of everything and focus on your DR, you're shifting and your CR has what to thinking about? Don't doubt yourself and you can do it, love. Because, anyone can shift.

“You can hold the entire universe in your hands, how can you doubt yourself?”

[hischierswhore]

i can see you

Pairing: Lando Norris x Assistant!Reader

TW: suggestive content

A/N: this is based on my favorite song from Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) so in honor of that, here’s my first Lando fic 🧡

ALSO CONGRATS TO LANDO ON P2 TODAY AT THE BRITISH GP. SO PROUD

also i highly recommend listening to the song as you read for the full experience

You were leaning against a wall in the hallway of McLaren Headquarters, waiting for Lando to come out of his meeting with Zak Brown. You were his assistant & lifelong best friend, hired as the former just after he signed with McLaren all those years ago.

You were there when times got tough and in the happiest moments of his life. After spending so much time with him, you’d gotten comfortable with his presence, maybe a little bit too comfortable.

You’d always known that Lando was handsome, everyone and their mother knew it. Over time you had developed a small crush on him, and by some miracle, you were able to push those feelings aside out of respect for both your job & his, but not for long.

Recently, those feelings became more powerful. More overwhelming. They were so strong that you often felt butterflies in the pit of your stomach while you were with him.

And not the cute & dainty butterfly-like feeling. More along the lines of… you wanted him, and you wanted him bad.

You were pulled from thoughts as you heard a door open. Your head turned in the direction of the sound and you saw Lando exiting the conference room. God, he looked so good. You watched as he brushed past you, a small smile on his face as his eyes met yours.

That damn smile of his nearly melted you at the sight. The look he gave you confirmed the rumors that had been circulating. Rumor was that Lando had a crush on you, but never acted on it because of both your & his jobs, and he didn’t want to get either of you in trouble.

Just after he had passed you, you heard him mutter something and turn back to you. He grabbed your hand and dragged you down the hall to the nearest empty office.

Once inside, he locked the door and pushed you against the wall. He placed both hands on the sides of your face and pulled you in for a deep & passionate kiss.

His lips remained on yours while he removed his hands from your face to take his coat off. He threw it aimlessly on the floor, not caring if it got dirty. You were more important.

“Y/n” He moaned against your lips before pulling away to look you in the eyes.

“I want this. I want you, Lando” You whispered before pressing your lips back onto his. You felt his hands on your shoulders, gently tugging at the strap of your bra that was ever-so-slightly visible through your top.

Then you felt sudden tapping on your shoulder.

“Y/n”

You immediately came back to reality. You were back in the hallway, leaning against the wall like you were before

“You okay? You were kind of in Lala Land for a second” He giggled and you swore your heart nearly popped out of your chest.

“Please don’t tell me I said any of that out loud” You said, noticing his hand was still resting on your shoulder. Your cheeks began to burn and you never wanted to curl up and hide more in your life.

“It depends… what were you talking about?” He pulled his hand away from your shoulder, his face now turning a deeper shade of red than Rudolph’s nose.

“Nothing, just… daydreaming” You presented a fake smile and he looked at you suspiciously.

“I don’t believe you, but let’s go. We’ve got to get ready for the Grid Dinner” He held his arm out for you to lace yours through, which you graciously accepted and walked out of the building to his McLaren Senna.

~ a few hours later ~

You were finishing up your hair when you heard a knock at your front door. You spritzed the last of your hairspray before setting the can down and running across your flat to get to the door.

Upon opening the door, you were met with Lando in a suit, someone you’d seen a few times within your life, but seeing him in a suit now felt different.

You tried hard to keep any & all ideas of what you’d like to do with him in the back of your mind. His jaw dropped at the sight of you, dressed in a beautiful black gown, perfect for the theme of the dinner tonight. He was at a loss for words.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” You teased and you noticed how Lando turned a light shade of pink at your words.

“I… uhm… You look stunning, love” He finally managed to get out.

“Thank you, Lan. You don’t look too bad yourself”

“Shall we get going?” He asked as he held his hand out for you, his gentlemanly way of guiding you to his car. You obviously took his hand and you were on your way.

The car ride was rather silent. A thick tension filled the air, a very thick sexual tension that had not been acknowledged by either parties, despite yours in the back of your mind.

Upon arriving at the dinner, you and Lando were escorted to a private dining area, reserved for rather large gatherings such as the Grid Dinner.

You saw Kika talking to Carmen and immediately made your way to talk to them while Lando spoke to the rest of his mates.

“You look beautiful, Y/n” Carmen gasped as she brought you in for a hug.

“You might actually be the best dressed here” Kika added.

“Girls stopppp. Have you seen yourselves? You’re both literal perfection” You always blushed at compliments, but Kika’s next words turned you from pink to red… tomato red.

“Lando’s one lucky man”

“Oh me & Lando aren’t-” You tried to add but we’re cut off

“Don’t even start. We all see that there’s something there. Maybe not officially, but there’s definitely a connection between the two of you”

“Oh what’s that, Oscar? You need help with your tie? On my way!” You exclaimed as you held a half to your ear, pretending to be mid-conversation with Oscar as a way to excuse yourself from the conversation Kika & Carmen were about to have with you.

~ later on ~

You had gotten to your designated seat as you waited for the dinner to commence. Lando was say next to you, with Carlos, Charles, Pierre, Kika, George & Carmen sat around the rest of the table.

You all indulged in conversation when you felt a hand on your thigh. You looked down to see Lando’s hand rested there. Your gaze followed up to his face, seeing him in the middle of a slightly heated discussion with Carlos about the pronunciation of Mariah Carey.

You looked back down at his hand as saw that he was holding a small piece of paper in his palm. You grabbed it from him and slowly opened it underneath the table.

“Meet me near the bathrooms in 10

- LN”

You folded the note back up and put it in your small clutch.

Ten minutes later, you excused yourself from the table and went to the bathroom. You waited there for approximately 5 minutes before Lando finally came over.

“Sorry for being a bit late, love. Had to come up with an excuse to come back here” He was slightly out of breath from practically running back here to meet with you.

“What was the note for?” You asked as you attempted to keep your balance. The heels you had chosen were not made for standing for extended amounts of time.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, completely ignoring your question. You nodded and just as you opened your mouth to speak, Lando pressed his lips to yours, one hand holding your face and the other on your hip.

He was able to gently kick the bathroom door open and guided you inside. He pulled away to lock the door, and just as he turned back around, you smashed your lips onto his, reciprocating his sudden action from earlier.

You’d wanted this for so long, and you were finally getting it. But how could you be so sure that it was real? You thought it was real earlier, but it wasn’t; it was all in your head.

“Lando wait” You pulled yourself off of him, a look of confusion on his face.

“I’m not just imagining this, right?”

“No, Y/n, this is very real. I heard what you said back the headquarters when you were daydreaming. Now tell me, what were you thinking about?”

“You…”

“I’m gonna need more than that, love”

“Us hiding in an empty room while we kiss…”

“Do you think about that often?” He asked, his voice more serious than you’d ever heard it before.

“You won't believe half the things I see inside my head that involve you & I. Wait 'til you see half the things that haven’t happened… yet”

“I’m making it my personal goal to make your dreams a reality” He muttered as he pulls you back in for another kiss.

“Then let’s start now”

“Not now, love. I want to take my time with you”

“if you only knew, that I can see you”

for all the delusion people (me)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist

@swimmingismywholelife @chelseagirl98 @neverinadream

[steddieas-shegoes]

Part 2 to this post

When gay marriage became legal, everyone expected Steve and Eddie to run to the courthouse and get it done.

They’d waited long enough.

But they were watching the news on a hospital room television instead of their home, keeping Wayne company while he received his last chemo treatment.

It had been a really rough six months, Eddie taking the brunt of caring for Wayne so Steve could work and pay the bills for all of them. But they wanted to.

Wayne had done so much for both of them, he deserved to be taken care of now.

The doctors had said he was getting to an age where the chemo would most likely only extend his life by a few years at most, that the cancer growing in his body would only be stopped temporarily by this drug that made him weaker than any cancer could.

At first, he didn’t want it. He told them both it wasn’t worth putting his body through it at his age, but Eddie convinced him through tears that he wasn’t ready to let him go yet.

And Wayne always did have a soft spot for Eddie’s tears.

Every other Friday, Wayne was brought to the hospital by Eddie, sometimes accompanied by Steve if his day off lined up right, hooked up to an IV of fluids and a harsh chemo mix, and kept for observation for 8 hours to ensure it didn’t cause any major issues on his frailer than he’d like to admit body.

The last treatment hadn’t gone well. Wayne ended up having low oxygen levels and high blood pressure, so they kept him overnight. Overnight turned into 3 nights, four days, which is sort of like a cruise to the Bahamas if you take out the fact they were in a hospital in Indiana.

Steve was holding Eddie’s hand as they all watched the tv, their silver wedding bands from a decade ago resting on their ring fingers.

It didn’t have to be legal to mean something to them.

Wayne had been much livelier over the last 24 hours, his blood pressure back at a normal for him level, though his oxygen level still fluctuated between too low and normal.

“Would ya look at that? They did it.”

Steve looked over at where he was sitting up in bed, smiling at the tv.

“They did.”

Eddie was wiping a tear from his cheek.

“Took them long enough.”

Everyone in the room huffed out an unamused laugh.

It did take way too long.

“Steve.”

Steve looked back over to Wayne and noticed he was looking tired again, like the news was the only reason he’d been forcing himself to be awake.

“You remember that bet?”

They’d made a lot of bets over the years, usually during March Madness. Wayne purposely bet against Steve because it was an easy win, even though they liked the same teams and often had similar brackets.

So no, he didn’t really remember whatever bet he was talking about now.

“Oh come on. I’m the old one here. You’re supposed to have great memory.”

“I’ve had like, eight concussions. My memory is like a goldfish.”

Eddie snorted next to him and nodded in agreement. Just this morning Eddie had to remind him that it was trash day despite it being the same day every week for the last 17 years they’d lived in their house.

“You owe me $5.”

“I’d remember that.”

“Eddie asked for you.”

Steve and Eddie looked at each other with concern. Was Wayne having a stroke? Was he slowly losing lucidity? He’d never shown any signs of memory problems, but sometimes being in the hospital had a lot of negative effects.

“When Eddie woke up in ‘86. I told you he’d ask for ya first and he did. Never collected on the bet because you two were too much.”

Steve suddenly remembered everything from that day, tears pooling in his eyes at how all of this started.

If he hadn’t stayed to hold Eddie’s hand then, would he be holding it now? Would they be husbands in every way but legally?

Steve looked at Eddie with a smile.

Then he turned to Wayne and smirked.

“Bet you $5 I propose right now.”

Wayne smirked back at him.

“Bet you won’t.”

Steve gave him the look that said ‘just watch me’ and stood up, dropping to one knee slowly.

“Eddie Munson. We already wear rings. We’ve lived together as husbands for so long, I can’t even believe we aren’t actually married. But I want to be. I want to fill out the stupid paperwork at the courthouse and maybe plan a little wedding with our kids and family. I want to have a honeymoon and be young and in love even though we aren’t young anymore. I want to be yours in every way starting right now. How does that sound?”

Eddie was crying. He was always more emotional than Steve, he just hid it better. Usually.

“You wanna be mine?”

“I’m already yours. I just want us to have everything.”

“Then I wanna be yours.”

“Good.”

Eddie leaned forward and kissed him, more passionately than they usually ever did in public or around Wayne. It was a special occasion, though, what choice did they really have?

After a minute, Steve pulled away and looked over to Wayne.

“Sorry about your $5.”

“I’m not.”

Wayne had never been more pleased to not be able to collect on a bet.

[cirtusmistress]

Hurricane

Authors Note: I wrote this about two years ago and posted it to AO3, and never cross-posted it to Tumblr. But given I want to get back into writing, I may as well start by posting what I got! So enjoy my first fic, two years late.

Ship ~ Brahms Heelshire x GN Reader

Tags ~ Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Reader is Competent, Storm prep, Brahms is Scared of Storms, Touch-Starved Brahms Heelshire, Reader Replaces Greta Evans, Minor Injuries, Doll Brahms Heelshire, One Shot, Gender-Neutral Pronouns

AO3 Crosspost

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“A storm? Like, a thunderstorm? Or is it worse?” You asked. You’d been working for the Heelshire’s for around two months now. And though they’d left you with very detailed instructions on how to care for their beloved son, they had never brought up things such as house care. Honestly, you hadn’t planned on staying this long. Not into Autumn.

“A full on hurricane.” Malcolm answered, setting the last of the grocery bags down. He continued, “The worst one we’ve had in years apparently. They’re predicting outages and downed trees. I can help you secure the windows and doors if you’d like?” He offered. A sweet gesture. An olive branch of friendship. But you knew better than to take it.

During your short time at the Heelshire estate, and caring for Brahms, you’d learned a great many things. The most crucial being that whenever someone stayed around too long and stole your attention away from the doll you cared for, there was hell to pay. In one instance you found the dining room in complete disarray after simply inviting Malcolm in for tea, during a rare social moment for you. The worst case was when a friend of yours stopped by. They were a globetrotter, and seeing as you already had residence found it simpler to just stay with you. A mistake. One night was enough to send Brahms into the worst tantrum you’d ever seen. Multiple rooms destroyed, a window had been broken, and he had stolen your friend's passport. Your friendship didn’t last long after that. After all, who was to believe that a doll could cause so much harm?

“Thank you, Malcolm, but I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with a few storms in my life, I’ll manage.” You replied. Malcolm studied you for a moment. Likely trying to read you, sniff out any signs of dishonesty. But, there were none. Just that warm smile that could melt anyone's heart. He gave a sigh of defeat and nodded.

“If you say so. Just give me a call if you need anything. I’ll come check on you when the hurricane passes.” With that he gave you a wave and headed back to his truck. You muttered a soft thanks, finally returning to your chores.

Brahms sat in the kitchen where he’d been waiting. Like he was listening to your conversation. You’d grown used to this odd job of yours. Caring for a doll as if it were human. Though you’d always figured there was more to this situation then most believed. You’d heard of people using dolls to cope with loss, the concept wasn’t lost on you. But for a couple well into their later years? And there were just.. Too many small things. Even in the rules. Playing music loud, reading in a loud clear voice, leaving food in the freezer. Food which you knew was going missing.

But the biggest tell was an accident. It had been about a month into the job. You’d actually begun to believe Brahms was a child's spirit trapped in the doll. What with him moving around on his own, and leaving you little offerings, and once saying your goddamn name when he was upset. But then, just by accident as you were putting Brahms to bed, you hit your foot against the wall. It had hurt so badly you thought you’d broken a toe. But what stood out in your mind even now was the sound the wall made. It didn’t make the thud you knew from stubbing your toe time and time again in youth. The wall sounded hollow. There had been an echo. Now you knew some older houses had hollow walls. Normally the cavities between the two layers were used for insulation. But that echo.. That wasn’t a normal hollow wall.

After that you’d started paying closer attention to the house and Brahms as you went about your day. Watching and listening. Countless nights where you’d lay in bed and just listen. You’d hear shuffling, the rare footstep like someone had stumbled. Once you swore you heard breathing. You noticed how many rooms had large paintings or cabinets, your size or larger. For a while you thought you were going mad. There was no way in hell that an elderly couple had been keeping their son in the walls for twenty years. But then you learned of the Heelshire’s deaths. Suicides. So many things pointing to something you didn’t quite know how to feel about. On one hand, you were now basically the sole guardian of a doll who was actually a stand-in for the hypothetical twenty-eight year old man in the walls. On the other, Brahms was now completely alone after twenty years of isolation. Alone, save for you. Sweet, kind, loving you who treated a porcelain doll like a real boy. Who read to him every night and tucked him in with a kiss. You couldn’t just leave him. No matter what Brahms was.

“We’re in for a storm, Brahms. I guess that means we’re having a slumber party downstairs tonight.” You cortled, putting the last of the groceries away. You took note of how little perishables Malcolm had dropped off. Thinking ahead. You wouldn’t be able to cook for however long the power was gone, if it did go that was.

You turned back to the doll, scooping him up and taking him with you. You figured the downstairs office would be the safest place. The windows were relatively small and were less likely to break. It would do for your purposes. You sat Brahms in the corner and got to work moving the desk out of the way. You’d have to lay down blankets and things to sleep on. You doubted the old fashioned Heelshire’s were going to have something like an air mattress.

You spent a good hour doing basic storm prep. Dragging some old blankets and comforters out of wardrobes and laying them down on the floor. Filling up buckets and the tubs with water. Getting crossword puzzles and cards. By the time that was all done, it had begun to rain outside. The calm before the storm you supposed. The last thing on your storm checklist was lanterns. This was an old house, you were certain that the Heelshire’s would have oil lamps somewhere. Naturally the first place you wanted to check was the attic.. But you knew better. After all, if your theory was right you didn’t want to scare the poor man by invading his space. So you settled on checking the cellar first.

Only issue was, you really couldn’t bring Brahms. You knew he was never meant to be alone but taking a fragile doll into a dark cellar was too risky. He’d have to stay upstairs. You were hoping he wouldn’t be too upset.

“Brahms, I’m headed to the cellar. I’ll be quick, I promise.” You hummed. With that, you headed down alone. You had been right, it was dark and musty and damp. You started to wonder if there was mold down here. You flicked on the old dingy light which surprisingly still worked. You began digging through the clutter. Old things like furniture, clothes never worn since the sixties, even some art pieces. It was like a time capsule. You didn’t have time to walk through history though, you needed to find anything that could give light without the use of electricity. Lower and lower you went through the piles, until finally you found something. A pair of old oil lamps and a small can of oil to go with it. You muttered a soft thanks, pulling them out from beneath wicker chairs. But what was behind them gave you pause.

The bricks were singed. Dark burn marks that showed age. Your eyes followed the marks. The furniture in here had covered them, but now they were exposed after your rummaging. They flowed over the bricks going upwards. They almost looked beautiful. But that beauty hid a tragedy that plagued this home. You knew why they’d been hidden with so much clutter.

Your thoughts were interrupted when something crashed behind you, making you scream and jump. When you turned you saw one of the mirrored vanities stored away had been smashed. The mirror shards now littered the floor. And on the steps sat the Brahms doll, staring you down. It took you a moment to catch your breath, realizing your error. Brahms didn’t want you uncovering his painful memories. And he’d made sure you knew that. Gathering yourself, you pushed the lamps aside and began to put all that you’d moved back into its place. Covering those painful memories back up, letting them remain hidden and forgotten. Once finished you picked the lamps and the can up and approached Brahms. Kneeling to his height you gave an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry Brahms,” you spoke with such a genuine tone of sincerity, “I shouldn’t have snooped around. But look! I found the lamps we’ll need!” You held up the lamps, jostling them a little so they clinked together. Of course the doll remained frozen. But just faintly, almost missable under the sound of rain pouring down, you heard panting. Like someone coming down from a rage.

“I’ll clean up the shards, then we’ll head back upstairs, okay?” You’d started speaking to Brahms out loud more after you’d learned about the walls. Feeding your own delusions some would say. You held your word, starting to pick up the larger shards and resting them on top of the vanity. The smaller ones you just brushed away with some loose fabric you found. You didn’t really plan on coming back down here anyways, not after that outburst.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You always found time moves slower when there was a storm. The day seemed to drag on as the storm became worse and worse. The wind had picked up and those raindrops just kept getting larger. It was loud, even on the bottom floor. You had settled on just simple sandwiches for dinner, making sure to put a ‘spare’ in the freezer. And after that you’d just settled in to do a crossword. It was.. Probably the first time in weeks where you felt safe. There was something about the dim lighting and blankets that just felt right. Secure. Warm. Brahms sat under the covers and you’d even given him a crossword book of his own. Slightly cruel, knowing he couldn’t move with you there with him. But at least you’d been talking to him. Funny, you always struggled talking with real people. But this doll turned you into a chatterbox. Maybe it was the simple fact no one was attempting to speak over you. Like someone was actually listening.

Your tranquility was disrupted by a large gust of wind, followed by a crash that made the manor shake. And what sounded like a scream. It had come from upstairs. Something inside you just knew. That crash was in the attic. You were running upstairs before you even had time to think. Up the stairs, and finding the attic ladder down. You were unsure if it had come undone itself or if someone had moved it. That didn’t matter as you climbed up. It was your first time in the attic but you didn’t get a chance to explore. A branch had flown off a tree and crashed through the wall, opening it up to the elements. You could only act, no time for clear thoughts. You grabbed a nearby blanket and started to desperately try to cover the hole, but another gale blew you back. There was nothing you could do to patch it right now, not unless you wanted to risk injury or worse, death.

Your rattled mind returned to the scream you had heard. Or at least you thought you had heard. Looking around you didn’t see a body but there was a bed up here. A tv, a sink.. Someone was living here. You didn’t have time to celebrate your theory being proven. Where was Brahms? Your eyes flitted around, finally landing back on the ladder. Somehow you had missed the very clear bloody handprint on it during your panic. But if Brahms was bleeding.. Oh God, how badly was he injured? Quickly you descended the steps, trying to find any sign of him. You were too panicked to even fear this man who was hiding from you for so long. All you knew somewhere in this house he was hurt and bleeding.

“Brahms?” You called, starting to check every room. Could he have climbed back into the walls? Fearing you discovering him? You checked everything on the top floor and worked down, calling his name in a more desperate tone with each exclamation. But finally you found him. Turning the corner back into the downstairs study. There he sat, in place of the doll. It wasn’t what you expected to see. The mask was shocking at first glance. You were momentarily stun locked. He was bigger than you anticipated, even sitting down. Finally you snapped out of it when he looked at you, and held out his bleeding hand. It had a sizable gash across the palm.

“It hurts,” He spoke in a child-like voice. The voice you’d heard months ago. His head drooped a touch as he spoke, “Can you fix it?” He asked. Finally, after another beat, you nodded. Your mouth felt dry. Too dry to speak. In the kitchen you found the first aid, and took it back with you. He hadn’t moved from his place on the makeshift bed. You knelt beside him, and carefully took his hand in yours. Up close you could see the burn scars that ran along his entire right side. Suddenly his outburst in the cellar made much more sense.. Carefully you applied some rubbing alcohol to the cut. That made Brahms whimper and pull his hand back. The look in his eyes behind that mask was murderous.

“I’m sorry, Brahms, but I have to.. To clean it.” You choke out. Your mouth is still far too dry. You hold your hand out for his again, giving him those warm eyes again. He would trust you wouldn’t he? After all, you had been the one to care for him all this time. He looked at your hand, then back to your face. For a moment Brahms almost seemed entranced by your eyes before conceding and resting his hand back in yours.

“Good boy..” You said, starting to clean the wound. He made a noise akin to that of a moan at your praise. You supposed you were the first person to touch him or give him praise in years. He was likely touch starved. Once the cut was clean, you grabbed the bandages and began to wrap his hand. He kept watching you. His breath was heavy behind that mask.

Finally you were done, and you let his hand go. Brahms examined your work, how carefully you’d wrapped him, and the cute little bow you’d tied it off with. As he studied his hand, you studied him. Despite the childish voice he put on, he was very much an adult. You could see his beard poking out from beneath the porcelain. He was actually rather handsome, you’d admit. The rain picked up again, and the lights began flickering. Brahms jumped and quickly moved closer to you. Before you knew it his head was hiding in your lap. Apparently he was afraid of the storm. Made sense, it had attacked him after all. Carefully you began to stroke his hair in an attempt to soothe him.

“We’ll be okay. Just a little wind and rain, that’s all. Maybe we can play cards? Or I can tell you a story?” You offered. Just trying to find anything to distract him from the weather outside damaging his home. Slowly he nodded, not lifting his head from your waist. Actually his grip seemed to grow tighter. You could feel him inhaling a little too deeply, and his hands started to squeeze your thighs as he held tight. You felt bad thinking how unsurprised that made you. But he had lived in the walls for twenty years.. And you were likely the first person he’d had stick around.

You settled back on to the makeshift mattress, Brahms never letting you go. He shuffled up a bit, so his face was resting against your chest. You kept stroking his hair, picking your brain for a story to tell. Something romantic as you had a wild feeling that was right up his alley. You recounted the story of Pride and Prejudice, not skipping any details of the classic story. Brahms seemed all too enthralled by the tale. He even began to kick his feet in the air when you recounted the climax between Elizabeth and the beloved Mr.Darcy. Just before you could finish though, the lights finally gave out. Brahms tensed up against you and again hugged you tight against him. You let out a wheeze. You needed to get the lamps but he seemed content just smothering you until the lights came back themselves. Finally you managed to sit up as he continued to cling like a baby koala.

“Brahms, sweetheart, I need to light the lamps.” You manage to get out. But that seems to make his grip tighter. He shakes his head, face pulling your shirt back and forth.

“No. No lamps. I don’t want any fire in the house.” He whimpered. Your heart broke a little. That night seemed to have never left Brahms.. You stroked his back soothingly before trailing your hands to cup his cheeks.

“Brahms, we need light. It’ll be okay, I can work an oil lamp-” You were cut off as Brahms slammed you back down against the floor. Even with the cushioning it knocked the air from your lungs. Your hands fell from his face beside yourself as his own gripped your shoulders.

“No fire in the house. Never again.” His voice was no longer that high falsetto. Instead it was deep, aggressive. He sounded his age. You gasped for air, before nodding. Tears had pricked your eyes. You felt a twinge of guilt as you questioned whether or not he’d hurt you.

Finally you found your voice again, “Okay Brahms. No lamps, I promise. Do you want another story?” You asked in a feeble attempt to calm him back down. Lucky for you it seemed to work. Brahms grip on your shoulders loosened, and he returned his head to your chest. He nodded and urged you on to tell your story.

A shaky sigh escaped you. You thanked your lucky stars that you could calm him so easily. As you began telling another story, the rain and wind outside crashed into the manor. You knew Brahms would never harm you. Not you. Not his caretaker. But you began to wonder. How long would this storm last? Suddenly, in the dark, the room no longer felt secure.

[halfvalid]

the blade daughter, pt. 2

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 8k this part

description: after joining the straw hats on board the going merry, you're confused as to what to do with your life from now—and you can't help but get closer to zoro.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, slow burn, patching of wounds

author’s note: second chapter! i hope you like it <3 out of the three this one's probably my favorite personally, i really like the wound-stitching scene & i think it's one of the best scenes ive ever written. i'm suchhh a slut for the patching up of wounds trope.

You rose before the sun, careful to pack your belongings all in one sack. Considering the very little amount you’d brought, it was a relatively easy task—leaving the sloop would be fine, too, as you paid for the slip for a few months longer at least. Your father had so many ships across so many seas it hardly mattered much anymore. 

You double-checked that you had all of your things before shutting down and leaving the sloop, consulting some of the dock men to transfer a boat lift under the berth. You moved carefully across the east port, making quick time as you returned to the Straw Hats’ ship in slip fifty-two. 

There were apparent signs of life when you reached the ship, even with the sky cast over in dark hues of navy. All of the dead bodies had been removed, for one, and dock men were loading barrels up on the deck while Sanji watched over them. His expression brightened as his gaze fell across you. 

“Lady Dracule!” he called out, slipping off from the barrel on which he’d been perched to meet you at the pier. You gave him an unimpressed look. 

“I have a name, you know.” 

“Oh, I wasn’t aware of that,” Sanji answered, a lopsided grin pulling up the side of his face. You rolled his eyes and introduced yourself, which only prompted a brighter smile and a steady pat of his hand on your back. “A fine name, for a fine woman.” 

“Sanji, stop flirting with the crew.” You glanced up to see Nami, one hip cocked to the side with her hand on her waist, staring down with an exasperated glint in her eye. “Welcome aboard the Going Merry. Sorry I was a little grouchy last night. I don’t like having my sleep interrupted.” She leaned down to offer you her hand, and you took it, climbing aboard the ship. 

“The Going Merry?” 

“Fits it, don’t you think?” Sanji asked from behind you. Nami eyed him again, volume dropping as she tilted her head towards yours. 

“He’ll quit with the sweet talk eventually. I’ll give you a tour once we’ve cast off. We’re just waiting for Zoro to get back from town, and then we’re all set.” She turned to bark out another few orders to Sanji— “Finish up with the crates already!” 

“Anything you want, madam,” Sanji said with a little bow. Nami let out a long-suffering sigh. 

“Luffy already prepared a room for you. I’ll show you to it.” She led you below deck, back towards the ship’s aft. There was a collection of rooms all crammed together, one beside the other. “These are the women’s quarters. Men’s’ are all the way at the front of the ship.” She nodded behind her. “You get this one here. Sorry, it’s small.” 

She opened the door to the very last room, and you stepped inside, surveying your surroundings. It wasn’t much; the cabin barely scraped by as a room, consisting of only a wardrobe, a hanging bed, and a small table and chair stuck in the corner. A round window at the very edge of the room revealed the water just a mere few feet below. 

“It’ll do fine, thank you,” you said. Your room back at home was far more ornate, but you’d never been picky. 

“You can sleep for a few more hours,” Nami said, lingering by the cabin mouth. “Come find me when you’re ready for a tour. We should be setting off in a few moments, if Zoro’s back.”

You gave her a smile, and she left, the patter of her footsteps dying off as she walked further and further away. 

It didn’t take you long to get arranged, and afterwards, you gingerly sat down on the bed, the rope tied to the ceiling causing it to sway under you. You were still uncertain about boarding the ship, but you couldn't exactly return to your sloop now. And it wasn’t the worst idea in the world, you tried to convince yourself. 

You felt the ship start moving just a few moments later, and you stood up, walking across the rocking ship to get up to the deck. You were making fast time, Loguetown’s silhouette rapidly getting swallowed in the gulp of the horizon. 

Nami was bickering with Zoro and Luffy when you found her. “What even took you so long? We were due to leave a half-hour ago.” 

“I was getting new swords,” Zoro said calmly. Nami eyed him, then yanked something out of his hand. A wallet, it looked like, stuffed with bills of berry. “You can’t be mad at me. I spent less than half of your budget.” 

“They scammed you,” Nami scoffed, eyeing the katanas at Zoro’s hip. Zoro simply shrugged. “A sword for free? It’s probably made of plastic.” 

Zoro snorted. “I’d be able to tell.” 

Nami cast him a look, gaze unimpressed under the line of her eyelashes. “You can’t tell the difference between a ship mast and a tree.” 

“Yeah, but I know swords.” 

“Oh, hey!” Luffy, who’d seemed tuned out of his crewmates’ conversation, said as he spotted you. “Glad to see you here. Officially part of the crew.” 

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not so sure if I’ll be joining you forever.” Luffy looked confused by that, but not particularly offended—Nami and Zoro had turned to watch you, too, argument dying on trembling legs. “Right now the plan is to help you get to the Grand Line. From there you can drop me home. And then we’ll part ways.” 

“If you change your mind…” Luffy trailed off, then patted you on the shoulder. “Nami, were you going to show her around?” 

“I was, but I’ve got some mapping to do.” Nami glanced over at Zoro. “Hey. Make yourself useful.” 

“I hate you,” Zoro muttered. He brushed past you, just barely motioning with his head for you to follow. “Afterdeck.” 

You stepped into the small space. It was easily the most secluded place on the ship deck, decorated with three young tangerine trees in white boxy planters. “I like your trees.” 

“They’re Nami’s trees.” Zoro gestured with his head again, and you followed him. The tour was brief; Zoro didn’t have much to say, generally just showing you a room before telling you what it was and departing for the next area. 

You were about halfway through the tour when Zoro spoke again, the words abrupt in his throat. He spat them out rather than spoke them, and you got the impression he’d been mulling over talking for a while— “You ever beat your dad in combat?” 

You snorted. “No.” 

Zoro didn’t look at you, opting instead to push through the next doorway and gesture vaguely around him to show you the surroundings. “Gotten close?” 

“Never.” You shrugged. “He taught me the basics, but I wasn’t the best student. He’d try to be strict and everything, but… sword fighting isn’t really my thing. You’re probably better than me.” 

Zoro gazed at you skeptically. “He taught you.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you—” He paused, mouth open for a moment before resuming his sentence. He didn’t sound particularly hesitant, but the pause had you stifling a smile anyway, knowing he was at least a little bit flustered. “We should train together.” 

“Was that a question?” 

“Not really.” Zoro’s lip quirked, one side of his mouth tugging upwards in an odd semblance of a smile. He didn’t seem the type to smile often, though, so it didn’t look out of ordinary on his face. “Have you seen enough of the ship yet, or do you want me to show you the bilge too?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” you answered primly. “Now did you want to fight me or not?” 

Zoro actually smiled at that. 

You decided to train on the main deck, in an area wide enough to not bump into anyone else. You shed your jacket, pulling Hiru out of its scabbard. Zoro winced as the sun hit the silver blade, reflecting a blinding gleam off its surface. “That a stylistic choice?” 

“I polish things when I get anxious,” you answered. “So not really.” 

“Right.” Zoro untied a black bandana from where it was fixed on his bicep, fingers working fluidly against the knot. Once he got it untied, he wrapped it around his head, tying it carefully around his head. Afterwards, he slid one of his swords out of its scabbard, holding it with his fingers to follow with the other. “How low should my expectations be?” 

“I don’t know, you tell me,” you answered. Zoro let a soft sound out through his mouth, but he said no more, transferring one sword to each hand. He moved carefully, arms arching over his head to lower to each of his sides. You lifted Hiru up, more casual in your movements than Zoro was. 

You paid more attention to Zoro than the actual fight when you started moving. You figured you’d have time to genuinely practice later—you hadn’t kept a close eye on the swordsman in the battle against the pirate hunters, and your curiosity was eating at you. Zoro was all angles when he fought, elbows lifted and limbs pin-straight. That wasn’t to say there was no flexibility in his movements, though—he dodged your oncoming attacks easily, sidestepping with a light twist of the torso so your blade cut air instead of flesh. 

Just a few seconds in you could tell Zoro was far, far better than you. You parried one of his attacks, gasp ripping from your throat as you just barely managed to block off a slash from his katana with Hiru. He spun towards you, careful not to actually cut as his blade came for the throat. You managed to dodge just in time, moving backwards with a quick patter of your feet against the wooden deck. 

There was barely anything skewed in his motions, you were soon to realize. He was perfect in every sense of the word. Your styles were vastly different, of course—Zoro mainly relied on his blades, and his physicality was carefully practiced, no curves or bends apparent in the straight lines and slants of his body. In comparison, you were much more slippery, focusing mainly on your agility to carry you throughout a fight rather than your strength. 

“Your elbow,” Zoro said. You barely managed to respond, letting out a grunt of effort as you blocked Zoro’s oncoming attack. 

“Hm?”

Zoro’s katana came from the left. He used the other one to knock your arm up, nearly gentle in his movements, and you were reminded of how Mihawk used to train you—stopping mid-fight to reposition your limbs, using his sword to carefully push your hands in the right places. “You’re dropping it.” 

“I don’t care much for angles,” you answered, ducking under Zoro’s incoming blade and sliding off to the side instead of trying to shove against it. Zoro seemed startled by that, struck off-balance as he stumbled, turning to face you. 

You jerked your sword towards him, one leg coming up to shove against his torso whilst doing so. You managed to knock him fully off-balance then, and he staggered against his feet, teetering precariously backwards. “Your center of gravity is screwed.” 

“You dad kept flinging me around the pier,” Zoro said. You raised your brows, the phrase nonsensical to your ears. But it did sound like Mihawk. “It run in the family?”

“Very funny.” You dodged another slash of Zoro’s swords. “The only thing I picked up well in our lessons was about keeping balance.” 

“And dodging, apparently.” You snickered at that, parrying another one of Zoro’s attacks—but it was getting harder and harder, what with the immense strength of his body you simply couldn’t keep up with. As flexible as you were, you weren’t quick enough this time, and Zoro swept you off your feet so you fell to the ground, wind bursting out of your chest all in one rush. Hiru clattered a few feet away, your fingers unfolding from their grip and letting it move freely.

Zoro slid his swords back in their sheaths, letting them close with a satisfying click. “You fight too defensively.”

You lay there for a moment, trying to gather air back into your lungs. “Never found a point in attacking others, really.” You got up, straightening your shirt before bending over to pick Hiru up from the floor. “Good fight.” 

“Yeah,” Zoro said, but his voice was weak, tapering off to blend in with the wind. He had an uncertain look on his face, big brown eyes all fuzzy around the edges, like there was some cloudlike film covering him from seeing properly. You frowned at him. 

“Is that because I’m worse or better than you expected?” you asked, gesturing vaguely up at his expression. Zoro blinked, the fog over his eyes clearing as he glanced down to meet your gaze. You waited expectantly, but he didn’t say anything. “Zoro?” you prompted. 

“Sorry,” Zoro said. “I’m—I’m going to go to my cabin.” 

You watched him leave, growing more quizzical by the second. Well, you’d gotten what you’d come there for, anyway. Roronoa Zoro was a great swordsman. And he certainly had the potential to be the greatest in the world, too—a realization that shook you a little, heart trembling from where it was fixed in your chest cavity. You swallowed hard, mind replaying the firm motions of his body from the fight. He’d been confident, sure of himself. You had even forgotten he still hosted Yoru’s slash along his torso from just a week or so prior, he’d been so… perfect. 

“He’s good, huh?” 

You startled, turning to see Usopp sitting atop a pile of crates like a king on a throne. He was picking at his fingernails. “Zoro,” he clarified. “Best swordsman in the East Blue.” 

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over at where Zoro had left. “He is.” 

Usopp eyed you for a moment. “Your shell phone is ringing.”

You startled, patting down your figure before finally unearthing your phone from where it was tucked safely away in your pocket. You opened it, pushing the den den mushi in your ear as it vibrated, little mouth making soft rumbling sounds to catch your attention. Usopp clearly didn’t know a thing about privacy, though, because he kept watching even as you picked up— “Hello?” 

“Back home yet, darling?” Mihawk asked over the line, and you relaxed, your entire body going slack with comfort as you heard the familiar low hum of your father’s voice. “I figured you’d go back as quickly as possible.” 

“No, actually,” you said. “Luffy roped me into coming aboard his ship.” 

You could practically see Mihawk’s brows lift up in surprise. “You joined the Straw Hat pirate’s crew?” 

“No. They’re bringing me home. I’m helping them get to the Grand Line,” you corrected. Mihawk hummed, the sound a crackle of monotony through the den den mushi’s mouth. 

“And why, pray tell, would you do that?” 

You chewed at your bottom lip, glancing off the side of the Going Merry to the East Blue. The sun had risen fully, fixing itself in a warm beam in the sky. “I was curious about Roronoa Zoro. You never told me why you left him alive. Or why you let Luffy go.” You could still feel Usopp’s gaze on you while you spoke, and you just knew he’d be telling the rest of his crew this after your conversation finished. “So I wanted to figure out your reasoning.” 

“Ah,” Mihawk said. “Has he healed from Yoru’s wound yet?”

“It’s not like I tore off his shirt to check, dad,” you muttered. Mihawk barked out a laugh, and you startled at the sound before settling down again. “He walks fine. I saw bandages.” 

Mihawk seemed pleased by that. “Wonderful. He’s a hardy one. You should fight him.”

“Already did,” you answered. “He beat me.”

Mihawk considered that for a moment. “Eh, I saw that coming.”

You scoffed. “You have no faith in me. Where are you now?” 

“South Blue, still,” Mihawk replied. “Are you at least enjoying yourself there? It’ll be good for you to make friends, sweetheart. You don’t get much social interaction other than me and the villagers, after all.” 

“I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to get a ride home,” you said insistently, but your voice was weak, and Mihawk clearly didn’t believe you. Your mind wandered back to Zoro—the firm muscle of his body, the hushed tone he spoke in, and you found your face pinkening. “One of them—one of them wants to kill you. That’s his entire life’s purpose. To murder you.” 

“I think you’re being a tad bit broad, darling,” Mihawk said with a click of his tongue. “You seem rather enamored with this particular young swordsman. Something to say?” 

“I—” your words fumbled in your mouth, and you were certain you were entirely pink now, the sun’s glowing rays only making your face warmer than it was rapidly turning. “Stop. I’m hanging up now.”

Mihawk’s voice was tastefully dry when he responded. “I’m sure.”

“Shut up, old man,” you grumbled. 

“Right. Remember the rule, dear,” Mihawk trilled, and despite his voice being as monotone as ever, you could still identify the undertones of it—laced with syrupy mocking, all teasing and dramatic. “No dating unless he can beat you in combat!” 

You actually did hang up this time, practically tearing the den den mushi out of your ear. You huffed out an irritated breath, rubbing a circle into the shell of your snail as an apology just a moment later. “Sorry,” you murmured. “My dad’s a bitch.” 

The snail just let out a little grumble in response. You tucked it back into its case and snapped the phone shut. 

“Aw, we’re not allowed to say hi?” You spun around at the new voice, glaring upon seeing Sanji and Luffy having joined Usopp in his eavesdropping. Sanji bore a gigantic grin on his face. “Sounded like an interesting conversation.” 

“None of you know what boundaries are,” you muttered, but it was light-hearted. 

You didn’t see Zoro until suppertime, a fact that rang odd in your head. It seemed like he’d completely evaporated from the ship, disappearing around every corner as you spent the rest of the day getting to know the rest of the crew better. Something had happened, but you weren’t exactly sure what—and you weren’t exactly sure if you were close enough to him to even ask, yet. 

Sanji had cooked up a dinner so fine you doubted it could even quality as ship food. From your time traveling with your father, rations on-board hadn’t been much of anything—a few scraps of bread or dried meat, old apples, perhaps some fish if you were lucky. Mihawk hadn’t the biggest priority on eating well, but the Straw Hat crew seemed to have the exact opposite opinion. You were served a bowl of miso soup along with a bowl of rice, and dishes of tofu and oyster sauce stir-fried vegetables were carefully laid out all across the table. 

“Bon appétit,” Sanji said, taking a half-bow before slipping into the last seat around the table. “I hope it’s to your liking. Yours especially, Lady Dracule.” He gave you a little wink at that. You just stared at him. 

“I thought I told you my name.”

“Well, you did, but I thought Lady Dracule had a nice ring to it.” 

“It doesn’t,” you said. Nami stifled a snort, the hand not holding her chopsticks coming up to cover her mouth. Sanji didn’t look the slightest bit dissuaded. You turned your attention on Zoro, who hadn’t spoken a word throughout the whole meal. He was rather studiously focused on his bowl, eyes picking apart the grains of rice like they’d reveal the world’s greatest secrets. 

Carefully, you leaned towards Nami, voice coming out in a hushed whisper. “Is he okay?” 

“He gets like that sometimes,” Nami answered, her words drowned out by Usopp and Luffy’s cheerful conversation. “Nobody can crack him except for Luffy. I’d just leave him be.” 

“You don’t know why?” 

Nami just shrugged. “Hell, we’re all depressed sometimes. Not within my rights to question him.”

You nodded, but your gaze didn’t move away from Zoro’s figure. There was a particular squeezing sensation deep in your chest—a little flip-flop thing, a sort of panging you couldn’t quite place. He glanced up, dark eyes meeting yours for just a fraction of a second. But he didn’t flinch away. He just returned your gaze, strong and unblinking. 

To your surprise, Zoro was the first to look away, craning his neck to study his bowl again and continuing on like your extended bout of eye contact hadn’t even happened. You watched him, dumbstruck, until Nami nudged you in the shoulder. The rest of the group’s idle chatter had died down, and Usopp and Sanji were staring at you, low murmurs falling out of their mouths. You cleared your throat, finally dropping your gaze from the green-haired swordsman and attempting to ignore the fact everyone had caught you staring. 

You didn’t do much of anything after supper—you just returned to your cabin, carefully walking across the creaking boards of the ship. Luffy assigned you mid watch, so you had a few hours to sleep before waking up at midnight to look out for any enemies. 

You couldn’t find yourself falling asleep even after you’d slipped into bed. You’d changed, a loose blouse light against your skin, black silk shorts grazing your thighs. It was cold out, so you shrugged on a robe as you headed out into the darkness of the Going Merry. You emerged out on the deck, taking in a breath of the night air as you glanced to see who had the night watch. 

Just your luck. It was Zoro. 

He seemed tranquil, lounging across a hammock with his white sword—the Wado Ichimonji—cradled in his arms. In the dim light you couldn’t see if his eyes were open or closed, but as you got closer, he cracked one of them open, a gleam reflecting off his right iris. “Hi,” you said, moving over to the side of the ship to watch the waves on the water. 

Zoro didn’t deign to respond, so you just stood there, watching the sea lap at the side of the ship until eventually the hour struck twelve. Zoro left soundlessly. You stayed awake all throughout your watch until Usopp came to relieve you of your duties. 

Zoro was avoiding you. 

A few days had passed since you first boarded the Going Merry. They hadn’t been of much interest—just days of practicing with your sword and chatting with the crew, for the most part. You helped around the ship, completing various tasks apparently none of the members knew or cared enough to do. You were just emerging from the bilge, having done basic maintenance to ensure everything was working properly, when you bumped into him. The man was apparently taking a nap, though you couldn’t figure out why the storage area was a very good place to sleep. Still, he seemed comfortable enough, long body splayed along a grouping of crates. 

“Hi,” you said, for what seemed like the hundredth time over a few days. Zoro just averted his gaze and let out a little grunt in response. You stared at him for a moment. The realization had dawned on you ever since the first day, but it was growing more and more apparent, and you were baffled as to what you’d done to incur the silent treatment. 

“Hi,” you repeated, more purposefully this time.

“Hey,” Zoro said, though the word was clearly bitter in his mouth. You propped your hands on your hips and stared down at him. 

“You’re avoiding me.” 

Zoro closed his eyes, expression not even changing. “You’re not that special.”

“Ever since we fought that one time, you’ve been ignoring me,” you barreled on, entirely ignoring his quip. Zoro cocked a brow, eyes still closed, and you glared down at it. “I’d like to know why.” 

“Why do you care? We’re not friends.” 

“Isn’t it natural to want to know why someone is mad at you?” you demanded, perplexed. Zoro sighed then, shifting around on his boxes. 

“I’m not mad at you.” You heaved out a sigh even more irritated than Zoro’s. Your experience in the realm of dealing with close-lipped men’s personal issues was, unfortunately, rather well-seasoned. You’d had to coax situations out of your father, one hand pressed against Yoru’s hilt to prevent Mihawk from lashing out his frustrations rather than explaining them. But that didn’t mean you were all too fond of it. 

“Okay, well, why else would you be ignoring me then?” 

Zoro’s response was annoyingly frank. “It’s not really any of your business.” 

You pursed your lips, trying to suppress the irritated noise that threatened to burst from your throat. “I don’t like being on bad terms with people,” you started. “If I did something to piss you off, I’d very much like it if you—” 

The floor slipped out from underneath you before you could finish your sentence. You fell with a graceless clatter, lurching forward into the stack of crates Zoro was leaning on, words dying on your tongue. The entire boat trembled, quivering from side to side as if the ocean waves had suddenly propelled a thousand more ripples at its surface.

Zoro sat immediately up, one hand pushing you off of him as he scrambled off the crates. “What was that?” 

“I don’t—” Just a moment after regaining your balance, there was another dull thud and a row of quivers. You remained steady this time, glancing carefully around you before you and Zoro were both hurrying up towards the ship deck. The Going Merry was in chaos when you emerged, Nami at the helm while Sanji was firing up a cannon beside her. 

“What’s going on?” you demanded, the tails of your coat lapping around your calves as you hurried up besides Luffy. 

“Pirates,” Luffy said grimly, nodding towards a ship that was quickly gaining on you. “They blew through the stern railing. Do any of you recognize the jolly roger?” 

You glanced up, taking in the billowing sail boasting a pure-white jolly roger with a top hat and mustache. “Nope. These things are getting more and more ridiculous,” you muttered. 

“Yeah,” Luffy agreed, affronted. “Ours is way better.” 

You turned your gaze up at the Straw Hat crew’s aforementioned jolly roger. “...No comment.” 

“We can’t outrun them!” Nami shouted from her place at the helm. Sanji had successfully nailed a cannonball into the railing of the oncoming ship, but they had a dozen more men. “I’m going to try to get closer. Best chance we have is one-on-one combat.” She turned to fix the small grouping with a glare. “Don’t just stand there. Get to it!” 

You launched into action, hurrying to climb up the rigging to get a better view as Nami veered hard to starboard. The enemy ship had dropped their cannons, and you could see them preparing to board the Merry, grabbing onto loose ropes of rigging. “They’re going to swing over,” you reported, watching as the ship tilted in your direction, gaining on you. “I see maybe two or three dozen men.” 

You hesitated, glancing around at the rather stationary crew around you. Your lip tugged between your teeth, and you stood there for a moment, unspoken words heavy on your tongue. You could see the captain yelling out orders on the ship across from you, and you turned abruptly, fixing Sanji with a look. 

“Sanji, trade with Usopp. I want you to nail a cannon at their port stern.” 

“W—What? Me?” Usopp stuttered. You nodded. 

“I want Sanji on the frontlines. That should be close enough now.” You gazed out at the rapidly thinning gap between the two ships. One final cannonball whizzed towards, and you ducked, watching as it just brushed the side of the Merry. The ship rocked, and you tightened your grip on the rigging, satisfied to see it’d barely left a mark. 

“They’re coming over,” Sanji reported, and you nodded, sliding Hiru out from your scabbard as enemy pirates started swinging over on ropes. Luffy was the first to react, an arching, rubbery limb catching one of them midair and yanking them down into the ocean. Boots thudded on the ground as the enemy pirates landed aboard the Going Merry. 

“Time for a fight,” Zoro murmured, barely audible from your left. You jumped down from the rigging, sword coming down to crash against one of the enemy pirates. He reacted slowly, pistol cocking towards your chest—but you just brushed it to the side with Hiru, cutting it straight out his hand and following up with a flurry of sword thrusts. 

Besides you, you saw Sanji sliding into battle, spinning on his palms to deliver a mean right hook to someone’s jawbone. An audible crack pierced the air, and you winced, breezing backwards on your feet as two pirates closed in on you. 

Luffy seemed to have engaged in a one-on-one with the enemy captain, who was easily identifiable due to the gigantic top hat perched upon his head. He had thick black hair tied neatly back in a ponytail, and a mustache and beard to match. A thick cutlass was tightened in one fist, thrusted towards Luffy—but every sweep was dodged with unbelievable bends of the torso. 

You turned your attention away, whipping your sword at the pirates that surrounded you. Hiru clashed with their blades, gleaming silver scraping against theirs. You leaned forward, and the blade before you broke with the pressure, sword snapping under Hiru’s will. 

The sword dropped out of the pirate’s hand, and you took the opportunity to pull your leg up, kicking him squarely in the jaw. The other lunged for you, and your fist dug into their torso, hands gripping tight to their belt. You bent over, twisting into his body to push him over your shoulder in a sweeping throw. 

He fell to the floor all in one, and you landed a kick to his chest just to ensure he wouldn’t get up again. Another man—bigger, this time, probably half your width and inches taller—gunned for you. 

You sidestepped him easily, agility tilting in your favor as you escaped his grasp. It was harder to take this one down—while you could dodge him well enough, and parry his oncoming attacks, he was simply too strong to compete with. Strength isn’t everything, little hawk, Mihawk would always tell you. Everyone has a weakness. Get them off balance. Use your points. 

The man delivered a stinging left hook to your torso, and you gasped. He took the opportunity to grab onto your wrist, grip so tight you couldn’t move your hand. Hiru clattered out from between your fingers. You directed a hit with your elbow towards the pirate’s sternum, but it was oddly-placed, and he just sneered down at you. 

One of his large fists rose to thud against your skull, and you braced for impact, but the blow never landed. A warm squishing sound of a sword against skin made your entire body shudder, and you turned to stare as your assailant’s head slid cleanly off of his neck. 

Zoro was behind him when his body collapsed, sword slick with blood as he spun it lazily around in a hand. “Careful,” he said. 

You gaped up at him for merely a second more before you realized your jaw was ajar. You flushed, bending over to fish Hiru up from the floor. “I was fine.” 

Zoro just thrust his sword cleanly into the torso of an incoming pirate, eyes not breaking away from yours. He slid it out with a sickening sound, flicking the blood off the blade with a motion of his hand. “A thank you might be nice.”

“Behind you,” you said instead, but Zoro was already reacting. You watched him, an incurable sigh perched on the tip of your tongue. He was good. He was really, really good, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. “Is that most of them?” 

“I think—” Zoro cut himself off, glancing over his shoulder as you both hear the familiar yell of Luffy’s voice screaming out one of his final moves. You both watched, soundless, as his foot smashed into the top hat pirate’s face, flinging him all the way across the water straight into the mast of his own ship. Only mere seconds later did the mast crack, the wooden pole falling down in a glorious, wooden heap. 

“...Yeah, we’re fine.” Zoro said. He leaned down, grabbing the shirt of one of the fallen pirates to wipe his blade with before sliding it back in its scabbard. “Let’s get out of here.” 

“On it.” Nami snapped her bo staff closed—when she’d jumped down into the battle, you were unsure, but she was already returning to her place at the helm. “Toss these bodies off our boat, would you, Zoro?” 

“Right.” Zoro bent over, easily picking up the fallen pirate and chucking the corpse overboard without another thought. You watched him the entire time, the strain of his biceps against his skin forming solid ridges up his arms. 

“I can clean your swords,” you said, words a bit too late out of your mouth. Zoro glanced up, brow creased. “While you’re doing that.” 

Zoro looked uncertain, but he unstrapped the scabbards from his hip, handing the twin katanas to you. You took them, glancing over his figure again. He moved with difficulty, and while you’d originally thought that was because of the bodies’ weight, you now saw the real reason. Lines of crimson were seeping through his shirt, a pool by the left side of his lower abdomen the biggest injured site. You took an involuntary step forward. “You’re hurt.”

“I can treat them later,” Zoro said dismissively. “Gotta clean up the Merry first.” 

“No, mosshead, the lady is right,” Sanji said. You startled, not having noticed him slip up beside you. “Usopp and I can manage with waste control, eh?” He winked. “Go clean up.” 

Zoro glared at him, the look dripping with malice, but he didn’t argue past that. “Fine,” he said, chucking another body—this one alive—off the side of the ship before straightening. You heard the hitch in his breath as he spoke, along with the near-imperceptible wince of his face. “You good, Luffy?” 

“A little hungry,” Luffy responded truthfully. He was still watching the other ship. Fire had started aboard it, and soft billows of black smoke drifted in the air. “Can you cook something up later, Sanji?” 

“Got it,” Sanji said. “Tell your first mate to patch up his wound before he bleeds out all over our beautiful deck.” 

“The deck isn’t beautiful, it’s got blood and guts all over it,” Zoro muttered. 

“Well, have a little respect and don’t add to the mess.” Sanji fixed him with a stern look. Zoro bared his teeth at him in a grimace, extracting a sharp little laugh out of your throat. His eyes brushed over yours, a glimmer of surprise dancing in his irises, before he ducked inside. 

“Why are you following me?” Zoro asked flatly, as you entered the cabin he’d gone into. You’d hastened to keep up with him, only a few steps behind before finding the room he’d gone into. Zoro had propped himself up on the hanging bed, loosening the ties of his wrap shirt to expose his bare chest. 

“I was wondering if you needed any help with your wounds.” You deposited Zoro’s swords, along with Hiru, on the table in the room, moving closer to him to survey the scene. “If you wanted it.” 

Zoro’s gaze met yours, and he said nothing for a moment. “First aid kit’s over there,” he finally said, nodding to the table. You moved towards it, opening up the small box to expose supplies of bandages, needles, stitch string, and disinfectant inside. You carried the box over to the bed, sanitizing your hands before carefully parting the folds of Zoro’s shirt. The cloth stuck to skin, coagulating blood making the shirt peel rather than move. Now that his entire torso was bared, though, you could fully inspect his wounds. There were still bandages from Yoru’s cut, all dirtied up now from his other injuries—you’d have to take them off and re-dress them, so he’d be in the bed for thirty minutes at least. 

You turned your attention to the cut by Zoro’s abdomen, deciding it was the most important thing to focus on. The cut wasn’t too deep, but it was gushing a steady flow of blood, and you picked up a towel to press against the wound. “Hold,” you instructed, and Zoro’s fingers brushed against yours as he took a hold of the cloth. “Thanks. I’ve got to take your bandages off, then I’ll clean and dress all the wounds. That one down there might need stitches.” 

“How do you know how to do this?” Zoro asked, watching as you unwrapped the previous bandages from around his chest. You were careful to touch his skin as little as possible, distracting yourself with the blood and gauze. 

“My dad,” you answered. You’d spent too many late nights patching up a wound Mihawk had brushed off as unimportant, only to wind up bleeding out on your couch. Zoro raised a brow. 

“Dracule Mihawk gets injured?” 

“Of course he does,” you said with a huff. “Don’t be stupid. He’s a man, just like the rest of you.” The gash from Yoru had fully scabbed over, revealing a long, trembling crust of dark ochre. You finished peeling off all the bandages, and cast them to the side. 

“You know a lot.” 

“Jack of all trades, master of none,” you quipped. You moved away from the desk to fill a bucket with warm water, dipping a cloth into it and squeezing out the excess. You dabbed around Yoru’s scab with the cloth, careful not to break the shell while still cleaning it of any extra gunk. Then you focused on flushing out the other wounds, wiping across his skin and getting all the little nicks on his chest and arms. Zoro didn’t say a word, but you could feel his eyes boring into your skull, watching you with a hardened intensity that made your insides churn. 

You nudged his hand away, examining the big cut. The rag he was holding had filled up with blood, white cotton dyed red and sodden with liquid. Thankfully, the bleeding seemed to have lessened. You wiped up all the last of it with your towel, swiping it against the pills of blood that had caught along the waistband of his trousers. Zoro hissed as you came into contact with the wound. “Sorry,” you murmured. 

“Why are you apologizing?”

You frowned at that. “Because it hurt?” 

“I thought you were mad at me,” Zoro said stiffly. You raised your brows. “Since… you thought I was annoyed at you, or whatever.”

“Just because you feel a certain kind of way towards me doesn’t mean I reciprocate the same feelings,” you answered, setting aside your towel after deciding everything had been cleaned out well enough. You picked up another cloth, dabbing this one with some alcohol to disinfect the wound. “This is going to sting,” you warned. 

Zoro’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other as you flushed out the wound. His torso clenched, and your eyes fell across his exposed midriff, watching the tight skin that was seemingly sculpted into muscles. You glanced away just a moment later, a dusting of warmth brushing over your cheeks. “On that topic,” you hastened to say, trying to distract yourself from the half-naked man in front of you, “Why were you avoiding me?” 

Zoro let out a sigh, the sound stuttered as he clenched his jaw again when you brushed your towel against his wound. You waited, taking out a fresh cloth to dab at the other nicks on his body. You examined the wound near his left side again. “Stitches.” 

“Great,” Zoro muttered. You ignored him, searching in the kit for some needle and thread. “Can you take the stitches out from your dad’s yet?” 

“Ha ha. You’re going to need those for a few more weeks,” you said, without even looking at the scab to check. “Ask me again later. Yoru cuts are deadly.” 

Zoro let his eyes flutter closed. “It’s a great sword.” 

“Yeah, it is,” you said. You paused from where you were threading the needle, glancing up at Zoro’s face now that you knew he couldn’t catch you staring. He looked so peaceful in this state, eyelashes splayed along his cheeks, dark umber freckles that you hadn’t noticed before splattered across his face. There were dozens of them, skin sun-worn and bearing the marks as proof—constellations of dark brown stars, so similar to his warm, glowing skin it was easy to miss. A five-o’-clock shadow traced around his mouth, and at his left ear, his golden earrings gleamed bright. 

“I don’t feel anything,” Zoro said, and you snapped out of your reverie, fingers fumbling to finish threading your needle. 

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” you hissed. Zoro snorted.

“Yeah, one I don’t have.” You rolled your eyes, tying off the string and bending down to examine the cut again. It wasn’t too wide—maybe five or six stitches at most. You gave Zoro no warning except for the light brush of your fingers against the wound, and he hissed again. 

You glanced up. “Do you want something to bite on?”

“I’m not a toddler,” Zoro sneered. You mouthed his words mockingly, though you didn’t actually speak them, not wanting him to catch you doing such an immature action. You fixed your gaze back on the wound, free hand resting flat against Zoro’s abdomen to steady you—his skin was warm under your palm, and you expected him to say something, but to your surprise, he didn’t even flinch. 

The first puncture came carefully. Zoro hissed, the sound of a low rumble in his throat as you felt his abdomen clench under your palm. You forced yourself to continue, pulling the thread fully through the skin before moving onto the other side of the wound. You did it again, carefully to keep the string untangled as it ran through Zoro’s flesh. 

“It wasn’t because I was mad at you,” Zoro said abruptly, and you paused, glancing up to look at Zoro’s face. His eyes were still closed, brows contorted tight and mouth bared down into a grimace. “Don’t stop. I wasn’t avoiding you because I was angry. Or because of anything you did.” 

“Why, then?” you asked, lowering your head to continue with your stitches. Zoro took in a sharp breath at the next one, the edges of a scream cutting into his breath but not fully escaping from his throat. You were rubbing a comforting circle into his stomach before you could stop yourself—muscle memory from patching up your dad’s wounds. You swallowed hard, but didn’t stop the motions—Zoro didn’t seem offended by them. 

His voice was raggedy when he spoke again. “Fighting against you. It reminded me of—my friend, from back then. I told you about her.” 

Your lips pursed, but you didn’t stall your actions, running the thread through the hole you’d pricked. “The one you made the promise to?” 

“Yeah,” Zoro said, the word falling out all in one breath. You fixed the string tight along the wound, fingers splayed across his stomach warning him for the next puncture. He continued speaking despite it, and your needle hovered over his skin. “We were training together—fuck.” 

“Sorry,” you said again, still running your thread through his skin as he heaved out a long, ragged groan from low in his throat. 

“We were training together,” he repeated. “Haven’t done that in a while with a girl. So it—” His voice tapered off in another breathy groan. “Reminded me of her. I got bitchy.” 

“Yeah, I noticed,” you said. You were getting close to the end of the wound now, but your actions slowed, just to keep him talking—the words came out all harsh and hesitant, and you got the feeling speaking about his past was a laborious task. Might as well let him have the safety of avoiding your eyes like this while he spoke. “Do I look like her or something?” 

Zoro huffed out a laugh. “Ha. No.” 

“Okay,” you said. You pierced his skin again—he took this one better, muscles clenching as he sucked in hard. You waited until you finished the stitch to speak again. “Are you going to keep avoiding me?”

“No,” Zoro said. His words pierced the air, weighed heavy with a gasp of pain and a hiss, but it still rang sharp in your ears. He eased out a breath, long and soft. “It was unfair. Can’t help it sometimes, that’s all.” 

“That’s fine,” you answered carefully. You threaded one last stitch, both of you mute as you tightened the wound closed with the suture and tied it off. You snipped the string with a pocketknife, using another damp towel to clean up any of the excess blood. “I’m going to dress everything with bandages now. Almost done.” 

“Okay,” Zoro said. You reorganized your supplies, tucking away your stitching things to replace with bandages and dressing pads. You washed your hands again, then returned to bend over Zoro’s torso. When you did, you were surprised to see Zoro’s eyes had opened, soft brown irises boring into yours. You swallowed, feeling the burn of his gaze into your skin as you stared at the skin of his midsection. 

“I’ll do the big one first, then everything else,” you said carefully. You worked in silence, pressing a dressing pad along the wound and tying it off with some gauze to fix it in place. You moved around his body, bandaging up any cuts you deemed worthy until you finally were left with Yoru’s cut. 

It stretched the entire expanse of his torso, from shoulder to hip. It’d been well done, the cut deep but not deep enough to kill as long as someone was fast enough with treatment. You recognized the shape of the cut, the very tip of it thin before Yoru’s mouth caught the skin with the center of his blade. “He did it like this on purpose?” Zoro asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “He’s methodical with most things.” You wrapped gauze around the scab, tightening it up and then finally tying it off by his hip. “I’d keep that on for a few days before replacing it. Keep dressing it for another two weeks or so. It’ll probably start swelling soon, so I can help you drain whatever fluid develops.” 

“I’ll let you know,” Zoro said. He was still watching you with those big brown eyes, and a soft shiver traced down your spine. “Thank you.” 

“Thank you for saving me from that pirate earlier,” you said. You surveyed him again, though you were careful not to meet his eyes. A long silence filled the space, heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. You ducked your head, busying yourself with putting away the first aid kit. The words fell from your mouth before you could stop them— “I like your earrings.” 

“Oh,” Zoro said. Nothing else. 

You were pretty sure you liked more than the earrings. You liked the way he fought, even if it scared you sometimes—even if you knew one day he’d probably be able to beat your father. You liked his face; those big brown eyes, soulless at times but holding the world in those glistening irises at others. Those freckles, adorned with the entire galaxy, stars and planets and constellations dotting his cheeks like a mural of life. The way he talked, soft-spoken but utterly real, voice low in his throat, words disturbingly honest. 

You didn’t say so, though. You stuck with the earrings, because those were safer.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

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[vroom--vrooming]

Logan Sargeant x f2 driver!reader

You are an F2 driver and a long term friend of Logan. When you called Logan and asked to meet him he happily came to see you...but he was not ready for the news. This takes place by the end of the summer break

A/N: I swear this has been sitting on my draft for a few days now. I was planning to post it next week but after the news today I just decided to post it now. Logan deserves better and FU Williams

You fidget with your phone, trying to calm the nerves that have been gnawing at you since the email from Williams hit your inbox. This was supposed to be the happiest moment of your life—the culmination of years of hard work, sacrifices, and endless hours behind the wheel. But now, sitting in this quiet café, waiting for Logan to arrive, all you feel is an uneasy sense of guilt.

The door chimes, and your breath catches when you see him walk in. Logan is dressed in a casual T-shirt and jeans, his familiar blue eyes scanning the room until they land on you. His smile is instant, the kind of smile that makes your heart skip a beat. You try to smile back, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Hey,” he greets as he approaches, his voice carrying that light, easy tone you’ve come to adore. “You sounded a bit nervous on the phone. Everything okay?”

Your stomach twists, and you force yourself to nod as he sits down across from you. Logan looks relaxed, excited even. It’s that excitement that makes this moment so much harder. He’s been one of your closest friends since you entered the world of motorsport. The guy who pushed you when you were down and celebrated your victories like they were his own. He had no idea what was coming, and that’s what made it so painful.

“I—uh…” You start, your voice shaky, and you bite down on your bottom lip to keep it from trembling. “There’s something I need to tell you, Logan.”

His eyebrows knit together with mild concern, but he’s still smiling, like he thinks whatever you’re about to say can’t be all that bad. You wish it wasn’t.

He leans forward slightly, and for a split second, you notice the way his eyes flicker over your face like he’s trying to read what’s going on in your head. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” he says softly, his voice warm.

You take a deep breath and just spit it out, the words tumbling from your lips in a rush. “Williams offered me the seat. They want me to sign the contract tomorrow.”

You watch his face closely, and it’s like you can see the exact moment the floor drops out from under him. His smile falters, his eyes widen just slightly, and then he blinks, trying to recover before you can notice too much. But you do. You see the exact moment everything shifts for him.

“Oh,” he says, his voice quiet, like he’s trying to process the news. “Williams offered you the seat…”

You nod, feeling your throat tighten. “I swear I didn’t know, Logan. I had no idea they weren’t going to re-sign you. If I’d known—” Your voice cracks, and you look away, blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay. “I’m so sorry.”

Logan forces a smile, but it’s not the same. It’s tight around the edges, like he’s holding back a storm of emotions. “Don’t be,” he says, his voice soft but strained. “You deserve it. You’ve worked so hard for this. You shouldn’t feel bad.”

But you do. You feel terrible. You can see how much this is hurting him, even if he’s trying to be supportive. You’re not just taking a seat—you’re taking 'his' seat. The seat he fought for, the seat that was supposed to be his future. And now, it’s yours.

“Logan…” Your voice trails off, unsure of what to say. There’s nothing you can say to make this right.

He leans back slightly in his chair, his gaze dropping to the table. His jaw tightens for a brief second, and you can tell he’s fighting to keep it together. “Look,” he says after a long pause, “this is Formula 1. This is what we’ve both been working for, right? I’ve had my shot. Now it’s your turn. You’ve earned this.”

You shake your head, tears now threatening to spill over. “But it doesn’t feel right. It was your seat, Logan. I don’t want to take it from you.”

He reaches across the table, his hand brushing against yours for a brief moment before pulling back. That brief touch sends warmth through you, but it only makes the situation worse. You know he’s trying to be strong for you, but all you can see is the pain in his eyes.

“Hey,” he says gently, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re going to do great. Don’t doubt yourself because of me. This is your dream too.”

Your heart aches at his words. It’s everything you’ve wanted to hear, but not like this. Not when it’s causing him so much pain.

“I just—” you start, but the words die in your throat. You want to tell him how much he means to you, how you wish things could be different, but the words won’t come.

Logan stands suddenly, pushing his chair back with a soft scrape. “I should get going,” he says, his voice a little too casual. “I’ve got simulator work to do. Still got the second half of the season to focus on. Gotta give it my all, right?”

You stand too, feeling like you’re losing him in more ways than one. Before he can leave, you reach out and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment, then relaxes into your arms, holding you a little too tightly, like he doesn’t want to let go. You don’t either.

You stay like that for a moment, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. You can feel the steady beat of his heart against your chest, but there’s a sadness in the way he’s holding you, like this is the end of something neither of you had the courage to admit was there.

When he finally pulls back, his hands linger on your shoulders, his eyes meeting yours for one last moment. You can see the weight of unspoken words in his gaze, the things neither of you ever said but both of you felt.

“You’re going to be amazing,” he says softly. “Don’t let anything hold you back.”

You nod, trying to smile but feeling it fall short. “Thank you.”

Logan gives you one last look, something soft and bittersweet in his expression, and then he turns and walks away, his footsteps heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. You watch him go, feeling helpless and heartbroken, knowing that this is one of those moments that will haunt you for a long time.

You didn’t want to lose him, not like this. But as Logan disappears from view, you realize that maybe you already have.