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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 11 months

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gojo always seems to be off in a world of his own.

a little detached, you think. awkwardly long limbs constantly on the move, eyes stuck in a direction no one else can follow, a trajectory you don’t think even he knows. one blink and he's gone, just like that. too far ahead, too far above, even on the occasions he slows down and lets you catch up.

flimsy, maybe. like he’ll get carried away by the breeze when spring rolls around. like he’d turn into seafoam if you reached out and touched him.

satoru gojo is an anomaly, a blurry cluster of stars. or maybe more like a planet, big and blue, spinning around its own orbit, out of reach for every single star in the sky. high and mighty, cocky and cool, silly and bright — but there's a softness to him when he's alone. something that almost seems fragile, under the light of the moon, when the dark sky casts a shadow to obscure the contours of his face — and no one’s around to notice if his smile isn't as big as it should be.

no one except for you, anyhow.

(you wonder if your presence is really that inconsequential to him.)

the beach is entirely empty, save for you and gojo. and summer’s ending, burning into little cinders, sputtering out before your very eyes.

tokyo is just beginning to dip its toes into autumn, the frost and chill, the hiss of the biting wind. the rusting of leaves, contaminated by a muddy hue, turned orange and brown and red beneath your heavy feet; littering the murky, empty streets of the rainy towns you cross. smelling of rotten apples and cinnamon, old books and burning wood.

it’s dark out. painted a thick gray, the sky is blanketed by heavy clouds, the entire world hidden behind that coating of wool. not a single sliver of starlight slips through, but there's a comfort to it, that feeling of being cocooned — safe and warm. a feeling cruelly stripped away by the nipping of the wind at your bare skin, but you digress.

everything smells of saltwater. a little like rotten fish. every breath you exhale turns into a flurry of vapour, mingling with the breezy seasalt of the open air; scattering away into the thin layer of mist all around you, until you can’t tell which is which.

and a sense of foreboding sinks into your veins.

(you look out at the jagged rocks piercing the surface of the sea, and dully wonder how they’d feel piercing your skin.)

something shivers, to your right. a flicker of movement, a barely audible chatter of teeth. and then, a white puff of vapour.

”man, it’s cold.”

gojo looks displeased.

only vaguely, a little crease between his eyebrows as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his puffy baseball jacket. moving his feet a little, to warm up, snowy tufts of white hair tousled by the ocean breeze. his shoes are muddied by the wet sand, but he doesn't seem to mind.

a soft scoff leaves your lips, mostly harmless. maybe just a little smug. ”told you,” you click your tongue.

gojo whines. his sunglasses are starting to fog up, you notice. ”it’s still summer!” he pouts. ”i thought the sea would be nice and breezy!”

an unimpressed look smooths over your features. gracing him with a raise of your brow, you don’t fully manage to bite back the soft smile that follows. don’t even really attempt to.

it’s been a long day. evidently not long enough for gojo, seeing as he dragged you down here — even though he knew it meant missing the train you were supposed to board after successfully finishing your mission. he just had to get a closer look at the sea. just for a moment or two.

and he was insistent, persuasive. awfully whiny. assuring you that he’d be quick, that you wouldn’t miss the next one.

(what made you agree was simply the thought of spending some more time with him. not like you could ever tell him that, though.)

so there you stand. two juveniles, shivering and shifting from foot to foot, on the brink of nightfall, the edge of summertime. watching the sea stretch out into infinity, across the gap between this world and the next. a murky blue. easy on the eyes.

the noise of the sea fills your ears; waves crashing into sand, the whistling of the wind, seagulls crying out in the distance. and faraway, the chatter of a rattling train. a cacophony of sounds, buzzing and crackling, melting together. scattered across the beach are countless tiny white seashells, and the occasional green glimmer of drift glass — mermaids’ tears, shed for lost sailors, or so you’ve heard.

you wonder if the mermaids ever shed tears for lost sorcerers. probably not.

a shiver runs through your body, down to your cold hands, the tips of your fingers. reddish and itching for warmth. you tuck them into your pockets with a breathless exhale, still shaking a little.

in truth, you and gojo aren’t very close. you’d like to call him a friend, but it's kind of hard; when he's so enamored with suguru, so animated around shoko. with you, he always seems kind of —

stiff?

or maybe more like bored.

he doesn't laugh as loudly, doesn’t act as cocky. doesn't flaunt his knowledge on sorcery, and isn't as clingy as he is with the other two.

(you've never liked people touching you. it's not hard for others to discern, with how you flinch away when they get close.

still, you can't help but feel a little jealous when you see him tugging suguru and shoko around.)

deep within your chest, like a stunted seaweed, sprouts a tiny pang of disappointment. it’d be nice if you could grow closer, you think.

just a little would be fine.

”i like the sea.”

you turn your head.

gojo looks a little lost in thought. gaze trained on that expanding ocean before you, those splotches of blue and gray, the waves that bruise the edge of the sand. forlorn, maybe.

a hum buzzes in your dry throat. ”do you?”

”mm.” little white breaths slip from his lips. you wonder if they’d taste as salty as the air. ”’ts nice.”

a silence stretches out before you. delicate, like a sheet of glass. gojo picks at a piece of lint on his sleeve, and you shift from foot to foot. then he closes his eyes — a flutter of his dewy eyelashes.

”kinda makes you feel like everything’s about to end, huh?”

you look at him, but don’t see anything. a single glimpse of his closed eyes is all you gain from the glance you cast his way, but it’s not enough. not enough blue to fall into, no expression to savour. he looks the same as always.

but you’ve never heard his voice sound like this before.

”… end?”

and with that, they flicker open. there it is, you think. that vibrant blue. only to be obscured once more, when he turns to you fully, a smile playing at his glossy lips. ”don’t think so?”

a second passes. you look forward.

what you see is as follows: waves upon waves upon waves. the same blue and gray, as far as the eye can see. a sea big enough to drown each and every one of your worries.

something comes over you. a sensation of loneliness, something close to longing. a feeling of being rather lost. searching for something. your heart feels heavy, an anchor sunk to the bottom of your gut. little fish nipping at your ribcage. your eyes trail over those jagged rocks, again; the mermaids’ tears, that all-consuming sea, right in front of you. like it could open its maw and devour the world.

you think of the lost sailors.

(one jump and it’s all over.)

a breath. salty on your tongue. ”… i guess i get it,” you whisper. a soft murmur, mingling with the mist.

silence.

out of the corner of your eye, you see gojo shift. one moment he’s looking at you, the next he’s staring at the sea. in tandem, the two of you, stuck within that shade of blue. and you think he looks a little mesmerized, like he’s seeing something not even he can fully comprehend.

(maybe he just hasn’t had many chances to go to the beach before. something to do with being a clan kid, maybe?)

but then he clears his throat, hands moving to brush some sand off his puffy jacket and jeans. turning on his heel, hair ruffled by the breeze. he tries to sound chipper, but there’s something else there. you don’t know what it is, but…

”anyway,” he chirps. ”let’s go. we can still make it to the next train if we hurry.”

you look at him. his retreating figure, a head of white hair, surrounded by mist. a little like an apparition. then you turn towards the sea.

”… nah, that’s fine.”

a pause.

gojo stills, just about to take the first step forward. but you stay rooted in place; unmoving, staring at the blue before you, a deep longing reflected in your eyes.

”let’s stay a little longer,” you hum, unsure of where the words came from. but you know you aren’t ready for the moment to end, just yet. that you aren’t quite ready for summer to pass.

…

all he does is stare, for a second or two. attempting to find some humour in your voice, you assume, any signs that you might just be joking. but he doesn’t find it. uncharacterstically silent, gojo stays frozen in place.

then he puffs out a breath — amused.

”you wanna freeze to death?” he grins, and you can hear it in his voice. you turn to face him, almost smiling. a little cheeky.

”you’ll warm me up, no?”

the words fall from your lips before you can think to reel them in. meant to sound a little snarky, you think, something akin to a chuckle — but instead come out sounding a little too much like an honest request.

the tips of your ears feel a little warm, suddenly.

a sense of surprise smooths over the contours of gojo’s face, and his grin falters. you can’t see his eyes, can’t tell if they widen or not, but his lips part, and you note that they look soft.

and it’s back. that grin. toothy, boyish. his cheeks are rosy, from the chill of the air, or so you assume. then he’s taking a couple strides forward, broaching the distance between you.

he throws an arm over your shoulder. a heavy weight against you, grounding, causing you to stumble. friendly, tugging you close. into his orbit.

(no infinity, you note. you can feel his body heat seeping through the fabric.)

it's nice. he's tall, and he's warm. cozy, protecting you from the bitter cold, like your own personal furnace. no wonder suguru never catches any colds, with someone like this draped over him all the time.

gojo speaks. there’s a sweetness to his voice, a mellow kind of contentment; bubbling up like seafoam, spilling from his glossy lips. you can feel his warm breath on your skin.

”well, duh.”

when your gaze falls on him, he's already looking at you. leaning closer, sunglasses slipping a little further down the bridge of his nose — enough to expose the blue of his eyes, the tiny splotches of white scattered across his aquamarine iris. like a cracked marble. or a summer sea.

he’s speaking again, and you almost don't hear it. distracted by those cracked marbles, the strawberry red of his cheeks, the warmth shared between you. the pitter patter of your heartbeat, like waves crashing against the sand. mesmerized. not daring to look away. almost like you’d cease to exist, were he to close his eyes. like your existence hinges entirely on the blue of those eyes.

(and maybe it does.)

he nods towards the sea, and grins. a mischievous glint in his eyes. ”wanna take a dip?” he asks, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

it makes you laugh, either way.

”do you want to freeze to death?” you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. subtly angling your body closer to his, hoping he won’t notice.

gojo honest to god giggles, at that, and you fear your knees might give out beneath your weight. fuck, has he always had dimples? why are you only noticing them now?

”hehe. i just think it'd be fun!” he chirps, still draped over you like an overgrown cat, and you almost find yourself saying yes. just to keep the summer from ending, keep him from being swept away by the breeze.

but summer is ending. slipping away, second by second, like two juveniles drowned by an ocean wave. never to be found. and in comes autumn, the smell of rotting apples, the crunch of sand beneath your feet; an arm over your shoulder, an intake of breath. the taste of nice, crispy air on your tongue.

a chuckle flows from your lips. all you see before you is blue, a murky shade, a vibrant hue. you think you could drown in it. you’re not sure you’d mind.

”maybe next time,” you whisper.

gojo’s eyes widen. ever so slightly, barely enough to even notice, until they bloom — with a kind of bubbly excitement. unconcealed giddiness. there’s something awfully precious about it, like a child buying cotton candy at their first fair. it makes you want to tuck him into your pocket. keep him safe.

you like him, unfortunately. inevitably. you think you may even like him a lot, a little more than you should. a little more than he could reciprocate.

satoru gojo. high and mighty, cocky and cool. silly and bright. a seaborne boy with his very own orbit, born to carry the weight of the world, spinning so close that you can almost delude yourself into thinking he feels the same.

almost.

(gojo glances at your lips. he wonders if they’d taste as salty as the air.)

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snipersfucker · 1 year

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request from @gh0stfac3-w1f3y: I can't find any fics where Noah and the reader first meet Mirage in the garage and then they met the others

i changed the plot so much, it's so far from canon lmao but we roll. it's long btw sorry for making you wait *cries*

"Any last words?"

Noah looked up at you with widened eyes after hearing the question that'd left your mouth.

He was so close to shitting himself and you were not helping.

"What?" He frowned with his eyes now focused on your face, the word a whispered yell.

You rolled your eyes, not actually having expected him to understand your little joke, considering the fact that you two had slightly different senses of humour. But you had the right to roll your eyes at him nevertheless.

"Before you get shot in the head for stealing," you explained in the same tone, loudly enough for him to hear but also not too loudly so that you wouldn't catch anyone else's attention.

And Noah would've normally kind of snorted at your words. But not now. Not when his special thingy used for opening stranger's car doors without making much noise was inside a Porsche that did not belong to either of you.

He just let out a shaky breath through his nose, trying to calm down his growing nerves. His attention went back to the car, his trembling hands trying to open it without triggering the alarm.

"We're so dead," you muttered under your breath, shaking your head and looking around in search for any unwelcome guests. Noah didn't even hear you, too focused on his task as well as not fucking everything up.

And he nearly let out a loud noise when the safety lock clicked. He was too nervous to properly smile at you but you couldn't stop the corners of your own lips from curling up. You made a proud face and held a thumbs-up to him.

"Get in," he just said, grabbing the handle to open the door, and you did the same thing.

You raised your eyebrow when the safety lock locked itself again.

"She doesn't want us to steal her," you whispered to him, referring to the silver car, your hand pulling on the handle a few more times, hoping it would eventually work.

Humour helped you not to lose your mind due to stress, which was happening to Noah at the moment, almost silent curses leaving his mouth, the desperation in his movements now much more obvious as he kept attempting to unlock the safety lock with the thingy again.

It clicked.

You pulled the handle again. And the safety lock locked itself. Again.

"The fuck?" Noah whispered to himself, the frown on his face deepening even more. This time he decided to trick the system and unlock the safety lock and then open the door as fast as possible.

It worked.

"I knew w—" you began the sentence, feeling quite victorious, even though you did absolutely nothing to help Noah, but was interrupted by the male voice coming from behind you. Your eyes snapped to Noah's face which was filled with just the same amount of horror. They immediately widened in shock and a sudden wave of stress as well as panic washed over you, making your heart skip a few beats.

"Hey! Security!" The man yelled, his heavy steps increasing in volume, getting closer and closer to the two of you. "What are you doing?!"

If the image of you in an orange suit hadn't appeared in your mind for that split second, you would've frozen in your spot, unable to enter the car, let alone run away from the security guard. But you managed to do the former, your hand opening the door with one swift motion, your legs guiding you inside.

"Noah!" A croaked yell fell from between your lips as your eyes shot to your friend standing by his side of the Porsche. Your voice hit him like a bucket of cold water.

He quickly got inside, taking another thingy out of his pocket to use it to start the engine. Random courses both in Spanish and English were coming to your ears as Noah tried to work his magic and get you two out of that damned parking lot.

But before he could even flex his car-stealing abilities, the security guard was already knocking on your window with a lot of force, nearly breaking the glass. That almost made you and Noah throw up from the stress, and the fact that he was still struggling with all the cables—

The engine suddenly started.

The radio blasted music on its own, the tunes so loud they either freaked the security guy out to the point he stopped punching the window, or they completely silenced his furious knocks and pulls on the handle. You weren't sure, not even daring to look in the man's direction, focused only on Noah, as if you were trying to get him to drive without actually yelling it at him.

You tried to turn the radio off but it just kept screaming the lyrics to Act a Fool right in your face. And you could swear you were able to hear a faint sound of a male voice speaking through the radio, saying something you didn't understand because of the loudly playing song.

Why the fuck wasn't he driving?

Your head turned to the left as your eyes met the side profile of your friend hitting the gas pedal with desperation you've never seen on him before.

Why the fuck wasn't it working?

And then, all of a sudden, the car moved. You and Noah were pushed into your seats as the Porsche got out of its parking spot in a dangerous speed.

But there were no hands on the wheel. The pure horror and panic in your widened eyes matched the look on Noah's face as his dark irises met your own, as if he was looking for answers in them to the questions he hadn't asked.

The music was overwhelming, the speed making you grip anything to steady yourself, making you want to scream every single time the front of the car nearly touched an object in front of it.

Was it the right moment to tell Noah you kissed the boy he fancied in the third grade? It definitely sounded like something he should hear before you both die tragically in a car crash.

Noah was doing everything he could to stop the car, from hitting the brakes to slapping the dashboard with his right palm, the other hand staying on the steering wheel in case the car decided to let him drive.

But when the tires of the Porsche made contact with the highway, he wrapped all his ten fingers around the round object, gripping it with all the strength he could find within himself.

It was obvious. Obvious but apparently you and Noah were so stupid neither of you even thought of it. An expensive Porsche sitting in a parking lot for a long time, appearing abandoned but still in a perfect condition, practically asking for a potential thief to steal it. It had to be someone's brilliant idea, probably an idea of a cop, to put a damned self-driving mechanism inside of the car, which now was most likely taking you and Noah to a police station.

You didn't even notice when the music got a bit quieter, enough for you to hear your own, terrified thoughts, but you did notice the sound of sirens getting louder and louder with every passing second.

That damned Porsche sped up even more, making you and Noah scream like little boys, shifting your gazes between the road in front of you and the sight behind you. Police cars catching up to you, the sound of their sirens, and the absolute absurd of the situation made you nearly lose your sanity.

The loudest scream left both your mouths when the Porsche sped up even more, drove onto something and got in the air for a few seconds. But these few seconds were enough for you to have a tiny heart attack.

Why did the sirens stop?

You were so focused on not dying that the police cars hitting other vehicles, brick walls, driving out of the highway and out of the bridge were omitted by your overwhelmed brain.

Your eyes closed, the breaths leaving your mouth quick and heavy, after multiple failed attempts to steady them, you decided to give up and focus on something else, something that would hopefully ground you. Your eyelids separated, the gaze of your eyes shifted to Noah which seemed to be losing it even more than you.

The road got clear, and soon the car turned to the right to drive into an alley, and then into an open garage.

"No, no, no, no, no, no..." you kept repeating, shaking your head, disagreeing with what was happening out of your control, but at the same time being fully aware that your disapproval couldn't do anything to change your situation.

One drift and you found yourself rolling on the dirty ground, now out of the car. You let a couple of grunts out, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt pain in your knees, elbows and palms.

The unfamiliar sound of metal hitting metal mixed with something you couldn't quite name made you turn your head in the direction of the noise. Before you could register Noah kneeling down next to you and the touch of his warm hands on your back and arm, your brain got shocked by the sight of...

"Woohoo!"

A male voice rang in your sensitive ears, its tone slightly deformed to match his robotic appearance. It... was standing right in front of your very eyes, making energetic movements, then walking in your direction.

You managed to get on your weak legs. Barely.

"T'was... Damn! I haven't done that in ages!" He exclaimed, jumping on his metal legs around the garage, punching the air as if he was preparing himself for a sparring match. "Really gets the fuel pumping, doesn't it?!" he directed the rhetorical question to you and Noah, watching you both with a very content expression on his face. After a couple of seconds of not getting any responses, he added himself, "Damn right it does!"

Your friend was as stunned and speechless as you but you managed to somehow grab a metal pipe lying on the dirty floor, and hold it as if you were about to hit the... whatever or whoever it was... if he tried anything.

"Chill, man..." The machine held his hands up in a defensive gesture, pretending to get intimidated by the threatening posture of a much smaller human. "Jus' not in that pretty face, yeah?" He covered the said body part with one hand, acting as if you could even reach that high.

You gripped the pipe harder, ready to swing at the metal man, but then, when he let out a chuckle and shook his head in amusement, you lost all your confidence that you had any, even the tiniest bit of control over the situation.

None of you expected to see a hand of his transforming into a huge weapon, the blue muzzle probably reflecting in your widened eyes. Noah wanted to do something but you stopped him with one quick glance.

"How 'bout now, baby?" The machine practically mocked you in your face, but you were too focused on the idea of possibly dying right there and then to even notice the playful hint in the tone of his robotic voice. "Still gon' hit me?"

You didn't even know what to say to that, knowing that the wrong response would probably put you in the grave, but you still didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being the one in absolute control of the situation.

You finally managed to blurt out, your voice coming out a lot weaker than you intended it to, "Maybe..."

You swallowed thickly, accepting the fact these were most likely your last moments on Earth, but then, the robot made an impressed face, tilted his head slightly to the right, and said with a smirk, "Shi', you got some balls, dude." And lowered his arm, the weapon transforming back into a hand.

The relief that washed over you was indescribable. But you still had to be in the state of constant focus, in case he decided to put that blue thing in front of your face again.

He nodded, eyeing you from head to toes, and then admitted, "I like that... I like that a lot."

"What..." you whispered to yourself, confused by his words, the sudden change in behaviour making a frown appear on your face.

"I was expecting a different reaction, though," he started talking again, the playfully casual tone back, as if he was slightly disappointed but didn't want to show it, "You know, I saved your asses and all," he tried not to make it sound like a big deal, but still wanted to jokingly point out the fact that you were a pair of slightly ungrateful little humans. "...But I get it. I get it. I'd be scared of me, too..." He raised his hands in a defensive gesture again, speaking to you as if he actually understood, even though he found the whole situation, and your approach as well, quite amusing. "I don't expect every girl to get weak in the knees 'cause of me or anythin'."

A beat of silence passed, and the robot just couldn't stop himself from speaking up again, "Where are my manners? The name's Mirage." He extended his arm towards you both, his fist in your faces, as if he was waiting for you to bump it with your own. His next words in an encouraging tone only confirmed it, "Come on... Give it a lil', give a lil', give it a lil' tap."

Maybe complying to his requests was the only way of getting out of this situation alive... But at the same time the robot didn't give the impression of being cruel enough to just kill you both in cold blood...

You made eye contact with Noah for a moment, just to notice him shrugging, and then, slowly extending his own fist towards the machine's one, as if testing the waters.

When their knuckles touched, Mirage exclaimed with a satisfied look on his face, "Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" And then, he looked at you with a slightly raised eyebrow, motioning to your stiff body with his finger nonchalantly, directing the question to Noah, "She always this fun?"

Oh, I'm sorry for not wanting to fist-bump a robot three times my size who almost shot my head off with his weird fucking arm.

"What the hell are you? Some shit like E.T. or whatever?" Noah ignored his most likely rhetorical question, even though the machine seemed to want answers to every single thing he'd say.

"Naah, that'd be at least weird..." he said sarcastically, then made a finger-gun at us and added with a smile, "I'm a robot from space."

Great.

"A robot... from space..." you trailed off with a weak voice, Mirage's attention back to you.

"One and only." He bowed ever so slightly, but then corrected himself, "Well, technically there are others. You're actually real lucky you have met me first, though. But chill, maybe they'll like you. Proly not but maybe." He shrugged, not actually caring about what his team would think of his new human friends.

And as soon as Mirage finished talking, the sounds of loud engines were bouncing against the walls of the garage, and then hitting yours and Noah's ears, making you both quickly turn around to see a couple of cars driving in your direction.

"Oh, yeah, forgot to mention they were gonna pay us a visit," the robot who was once a silver Porsche said from behind your backs, but the tone of his voice was so casual he didn't really sound like he felt bad for not notifying you.

Soon, the cars transformed into... robots. Of course.

"Prime! Long time no see! Missed you!" Mirage walked past you, making loud noises when his metal feet made contact with the floor beneath them. He opened his arms, as if he was trying to encourage the huge machine to give him a hug.

"Mirage," he spoke in a stern, warning tone, immediately making the smaller robot let out a chuckle, but also obediently lower his arms so now the metal hands were on his hips.

"Good ol' Prime, am I right, Bee?" He directed the question to the yellow machine which was much closer to being his own size.

"What are those humans doing here?" The gravely voice of the tallest robot sent shivers down your spine but Mirage seemed not to be so affected by it. In fact, he looked like he gave absolutely no fucks about it.

Mirage turned his head in your direction, making a nonchalant motion with his hand. "Them? Oh, yeah, they're my friends, sir. Lil' Lady and The Guy," he introduced you two, and you wouldn't be one bit surprised if Prime shot him right then and there with the same thingy Mirage wanted to use on you.

And you nearly fainted on your spot when you felt the ground shake with every single step the tall robot made while walking in your direction. Your knees got weak but you were lucky Prime helped you and swiped you right off your feet, grabbing you like a rag doll and holding you closer to his metal face.

He did the same thing with Noah who, in your opinion, was handling it much better than you.

"Who are you?" Prime's cold voice made you internally die, your mind already making scenarios about him literally squeezing you to death with his metal hand.

"Nobody," you quickly answered, your voice much more high-pitched than ever, shaking your head in panic, "I don't even know who that man is," you added, referring to Mirage standing behind you.

"Hey! I thought we were friends!" the walking Porsche got immediately offended by your words.

Prime narrowed his eyes even more, observing you with distrust, as if he started despising you as soon as he saw you for the first time.

"We shall not waste our time on those humans," he spoke again, squeezing you and Noah tighter and tighter with every passing second.

You let out a shriek. And that's when Mirage realised he had to step in.

"Woah, woah, woah." He immediately found himself next to the big robot, holding his hands up, telling him silently to stop literally taking yours and Noah's breaths away. "Prime, no need for that. Look, I took 'em here, my bad, should've hidden from the cops somewhere else, yeah, I get that. Next time I will, promise."

And Mirage didn't even care that he just admitted to catching the attention of humans, especially the armed ones, which the leader of the Autobots told him to avoid at all cost.

Prime shifted his gaze from you to the apologetically smiling robot.

"C'mon. Red might be your colour but do you really want their blood on you?" he asked in hope it would actually discourage him, make him change his mind.

And without a word, Prime let go of both you and Noah. You didn't manage to hold onto anything, even the robot's hand just not to fall onto the hard floor of the garage.

But before you could make any sounds or properly experience the pull of gravity, you felt another metal hand on you, this time the grip much more gentle, far from suffocating.

You didn't even notice the moment you closed your eyes shut just so you wouldn't have to witness your own body hitting the ground with a good amount of impact. You opened them just to see a pair of blue, shinning ones right in front of you.

"We friends now?" He tilted his head slightly, observing you with a confident smirk, knowing that you had no other choice but to agree with him.

Because he saved you from breaking your skull on the cement a couple of feet below your body.

"Buddies for life," you responded with a shaky voice and many eager nods, barely catching your breath, the panic still evident in your widened eyes.

Today not only did you not die, but you also gained yourself a new friend who would do anything to protect you.

the end sucks as always but do not worry. there will be worse.

#i was listening to 2pac when i was writing mirages parts #mirage is so hit em up coded idc #something hed rap for you on your first day <33 such a cutie #i have no idea how guns look and how to call that blue thingy mirage had when he pointed his whatever at mirage in the garage #mirage x reader #mirage x you #mirage #mirage rotb #mirage x my pussy #mirage transformers #transformers rotb #rotb #transformers #wattpad

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