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ncroissant · 6 months

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I just read your Sub! Frances fic and OHMYGOD??? GORGEOUS. AMAZING. HOLY HELL THIS IS THE FIRST FIC THATS MADE ME FEEL THIS WAY I—A JOB MOST CERTAINLY WELL DONE 😭💕✨🙌

I was wondering if you were up to writing more of it? I had this idea for Sub! Frances where he’s a doppelgänger and reader is part of the DDD cleanup crew…except when Frances’s doppelgänger is sent over to them, they decide to initiate a so-called mandatory ‘procedure’ to ‘discipline him’ if you know what I mean…🤭🤭 maybe even throw in some overstim and mind break~

Buttt feel free to ignore this if you want to, no pressure :)

sub! doppelgänger francis mosses x d.d.d! gn! reader

summary: how the clean-up crew likes to deal with slutty doppelgängers

wc: 1.5k

content warning: nsfw, dub-con, spanking, ball play, mind-break, overstimulation, fingering, anal, cock can be seen as strap, cum play, dirty talk, nipple play

author’s note: hi guys! sorry for the wait, but thank u sm for 150 follows omg, u guys have been blowing up my blog ily all. thanks for the ask anon, i love this concept and i'm so happy u liked my first francis fic :') hope u enjoy this one too !! not proofread, minors please dni !!

the calls to the d.d.d. were slow today.

but when you finally got a call from the nearby apartment's security guard, you were quick to accept the job. what you weren't expecting was to find such a handsome man, awaiting his sentence, upon your arrival.

you soaked in the sight of him. his all too tight uniform and his dopey little hat that was a size too big, slipping over his brunette eyes. his sunken eye bags, long lashes and pleading expression.

the alarm was blaringly loud and the lights were blinding, but you still made your way over to the doppel, your breath fogging up with hazmat suit.

"i'm here for a mr. francis mosses?" you inquired, cautiously stepping closer to him. "is that you? or who you're impersonating, hm?" you tilted your head, driving him against the wall.

his eyebrows furrowed, back pressed flat against the wall in attempts to escape. he stayed silent, but you continued to stalk forward. "can't talk, huh?" you scoffed, shaking your head disappointedly.

your head turned to look at the aluminum sheet covering the security guard's window. you slipped your phone out of your pocket, dialing the security guard. "this might take a while. keep that window closed, yeah?"

you hung up, stuffing your phone away. your head quickly turned to look at francis with a glare. "turn around," you demanded, nodding your chin towards the wall.

"what?" the frown on francis' face deepened. you clicked up tongue, disappointed with his reaction. you gathered his wrists together, spinning him around and pressing his chest against the wall. his pants were so tight that you could see the outline of his balls.

"listen to me, slut," you growled, tightening the grip you had on his wrists. "when i tell you do something, you do it, yeah?" his back arched, rubbing the bulge of your cock against his ass.

"are we clear?" you glared down at him as he looked back at you with widened eyes.

"y-yes..." he shyly nodded with a huff.

you smiled at his obedience, moving back to create space between yourselves. "now, i know you've been a bad boy. messin' with the security guard, knowing you can't enter the building like this," you started, grabbing the fat of his ass.

he gasped, biting down on his lip to suppress the lewd sounds that were so desperately spilling out of his lips. "since you wanna be a brat. let me show you how we deal with bad boys like you." you spanked his ass roughly, kneading it gently afterwards.

"h-HNG!?" he panted when you slipped off his pants, exposing his bare ass. his cock twitched at the feeling of you pressing him against the brick wall, the ridges rubbing against his perky nipples.

"no underwear?" you chuckled, dragging your fingers down to fondle his balls. he squirmed in your gasp, little whimpers escaping his mouth.

he shook his head when he felt your thumb circling around the rim of his hole. "unnghhh...'s dirty down there, ooohh...!" your fingers slipped in so easily from the accumulation of sweat and slick, making him jolt at the thickness of your fingers.

"so deep, mmMNGH! y'keep hittin' that, hngh, s-spot..." he whined, leaning head back in bliss. the room was filled with the sound of francis' moans and the sloppy wet sounds of your fingers ramming into his hole.

you fucked your fingers into him, grazing them against his balls. and every time he got used to the thickness of your finger, you'd add another one to catch him off guard.

as much as he wanted to deny it, he was shamefully enjoyed the way your fingers pressed deep against his prostate. "ooOGHHH! m' g'na c-cum, HNGH! 'm c-cumming, cumming!" he whimpered, cum coating the wall.

his cum dripped onto his white uniform pants and rolled down the inner sides of his legs. he was shaking against you, slumping backwards into your arms.

"you think i'm gonna let you off the hook just 'cause you're cute, huh?" you shoved him deeper against the wall, the bumps flicking his nipples when you pulled him up. "who gave you permission to cum?"

his face paled as he shuddered at the look on your face. "'m sorry! needed t'cum s-so bad," he pleaded, shaking his head when you wrapped an arm around his tummy to arch his back more.

you dropped his wrists for him to ball his hands into fists against the wall to stabilize himself. "okay, be a good and count for me, then." he looked confused at what you meant then yelped when your hand came down on his ass.

"GHK!" he shrieked when you smacked his ass again.

"i'm not hearing any numbers, slut," you tsked, slapping his ass again. it was blooming pink, a stark contrast to the pale white earlier.

you spanked him again, prompting a moan from him. "hNGH! o-one, mnghh..." he huffed, he looked back at you with his cheek smushed against the wall.

you continued to torment his ass until it was bright red, throbbing when you brushed your hand over it. "you learn your lesson yet, or should we do five more, hm?" you cooed, rubbing the fat of his ass soothingly.

"n-no more, hnggh...learned my lesson," he begged, tears filling his eyes.

you laughed under your breath at his desperation, giving him a break. "alright, alright. quit your whining, needy boy." you caressed his cheek, wiping a tear from his eye. "c'mere."

you took him off the wall, leading him over to the aluminum covered window. he stood there in confusion, wondering if his punishment was already over. "are you letting me go now?" he furrowed his brows.

you laughed at his assumption. if only he could see what he looked like right now. his pants and underwear pooled at his ankles, his ass blooming red with cum splattered on his shirt with his nipples poking out.

the way he looked back at you with a flushed expression and tears lining his waterline made your cock throb in your pants. "i'm not letting you go for a long time, slut," you shook your head, unzipping your pants.

francis' heart thumped out of his chest at the sight of your bulge. "i'm not so sure how sound-proof this window is..." you stated, cock springing free from your underwear. "so unless you want the security guard to hear how much of a slut you are. i suggest you keep it down."

"m-mkay, i'll do my best," he nodded with a cute little pout on his lips. he looked so serious, wanting to impress you so badly.

"good boy," you stroked at your cock, inching closer to francis. "spread yourself open for me, yeah?"

francis' hands gripped at his ass cheeks, revealing his throbbing, dripping hole. his cheek was pressed against the glass of the window, looking at you for approval.

you slowly entered him, the tightness of his entrance making you grit your teeth. "hooHNGH! o-oh my god...haah," his mouth hung open, drool dripping down his lips.

he's never felt anything like this, nestled so deeply in his ass. the way you stuffed him so easily, kissing his prostate upon entry, made his cock twitch with pleasure.

"fuck. such a tight little thing, aren'tcha?" you grunted with a chuckle, you cock completely disappearing within him. "took me so well though, hm?"

you quickened your pace, thrusting into him with more ease. "n-nghhh! y-you're hitting that spot a-aghhhNGH, again..! 's too big, mmfph!"

you shoved your fingers into his mouth to silence him, rubbing your fingers against his tongue. "haaaaghnn! feelsh sho g-good, ahhnn..." he muffled out, even with your fingers filling his throat.

"told you to keep quiet," you grit your teeth, feeling him tighten up. "bratty boy isn't listenin' to me again. want me to stop?" you threatened, pulling out.

"n-no! k-keep fuh-ghh...f-fucking me, please! d-don't pull out, mnngh!" he begged, shaking his head furiously.

your tip teased at his entrance before fucking into him furiously. it's not like you could resist indulging him, especially with the expression he was making. eye rolled back, tongue sticking out with tears and drool spilling out.

he looked like a common whore, humping against you like a bitch in heat. "ooGHHK! r-right there! f-fuck, 'm close, hngh!" he nodded mindlessly.

your grip on his waist was bruising, as your free hand rubbed the buds over his shirt. "o-ooh, oh! c-cumming, c-cumming 'gain, h-HNGHHK!"

cum spilled into francis' hole, filling him up generously. his own cock was covering in cum as it had stained the window along with his fingerprints.

your fingers fucked the cum that was spilling out back into his hole as francis twitched in your hold. "feelin' alright, tiger?" you cooed, feigning innocence as if you hadn't just breeded his tight, little hole and filled him with your seed.

"u-uh-huh. wan' more...?" he nodded in a dazed, rutting his ass against your fingers. he cupped his chest, flicking his nipple with his thumb. "'again, ngh?"

the smile on your face was pure evil. he looked so desperate for your cock, your fingers weren't cutting it for him anymore. "fuckin' hell..." you cursed, tugging your cum-covering fingers out.

"again," you smirked, thrusting into him roughly.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #sub francis mosses #that's not my neighbour #thats not my neighbor #smut #x reader #ncrescent asks

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zephyrchama · 6 months

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Quick Leviathan fluff that got out of control (1.4k words). SFW with suggestive aspects, MC's gender isn't mentioned.

---🧵🪡---

Ever since the release of the new Hana Ruri: Transparent Tarot Arc promotional video, Leviathan had make himself scarce. He'd erratically come out for food once in a while or grab an Akuzon package within minutes of it being delivered, but you hadn't received so much as a text from him in a week.

A mechanical whirring sometimes emanated from his room - the sound of a sewing machine at work. The occasional Sucre Frenzy song would accompany it. Nobody was worried, but it at least let everyone know the Avatar of Envy was still alive. Sometimes you'd peek in to make sure he was okay and leave a sandwich at the door. It gets lonely without him though, and eventually you went to talk with him.

The room was chilly, with the AC cranked up high. Leviathan was sitting on the ground, facing the door but blind to everything except the materials in front of him. Rolls of lace and ribbon, jars of sparkling cabochons, cases full of colorful thread and assorted sewing needles. With an impressed "woah!" you moved some empty boxes aside and sat down across from him to get a better look.

He jumped. "Gah! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I knocked."

"I'm busy right now. I have to finish this, it's almost ready." Leviathan glanced at his desk.

A nearly exact replica of Ruri's new PV outfit was laid out next to his PC setup. It was gorgeous. Each piece had been painstakingly recreated and carefully set out over the empty flat surfaces in his room. Fully lined with a glittering beaded trim. The base fabric had a high quality sheen even in the dim light of Levi's room, with satin stitched silk applique petals accenting the skirt.

You admired the handiwork. Then, you admired its maker. Leviathan was carefully stitching fabric flowers to a hat with intense focus. He relied on holding in small, shallow breaths to prevent his hands from shaking. He was blinking more than usual, fighting off the accumulated sleep deprivation. It marred his handsome face with dark eye bags.

You sat next to him for a while and stared. The usually shy Leviathan was too engrossed in his crafting to pay any mind. The more focused he got, the more he frowned, accentuating the wrinkles around his mouth.

"Yeah... you need a break."

"Not now." He picked up a thin awl and poked some holes where the seam was particularly thick.

Talking was futile, you quickly noted that nothing you said would make a difference, so you watched. Every few minutes, a portion of Leviathan's long bangs fell in front of his eyes and he'd blow them out of the way. He flinched when you gently swept them out of the way, as though he forgot you were there.

He huffed. "Like I said! I just have to finish this, so leave me alone. I'm almost done."

The exhaustion was clearly taking over. You hated seeing Leviathan like this, a cold grumpy shell of his normally warm and passionate self.

You intercepted his hand when he reached for another bushel of flowers. His fingertips were calloused and dotted with red indents from hand sewing thousands of stitches without a thimble. It looked painful. No wonder he was working so slowly.

"Levi..."

You lightly traced over his damaged fingertips before weaving your fingers together. You gave his hand a squeeze and his expression slightly eased.

"You're so soft," he grumbled, then fiercely shook his head. "I have to keep working, let go."

That was out of the question. You were determined to break him and force him to rest. You held on and rubbed your thumb on his.

"Ghh, stop!"

Leviathan could easily push you away, but he didn't. Instead, he raised your entwined hands to his face and pressed them against his cheek. "I'm so tired."

"I know."

"You smell so good. It's distracting."

"Thanks. Your dress is pretty."

"It's not... it's... not enough..." Tears appeared in the corners of his eyes. "I can't find the right iridescent fabric so the colors will look off in the sunlight, and my shoulders are too broad so the silhouette of the top looks weird. So to compensate I made the sleeves bigger with more poof but I had to add more darts and you can see there are more seam lines here than in the reference image. And the buttons would look better with a wooden texture but all I had on me to make them was resin, which bubbled on the back, so what if their structural integrity is weake--"

Levi eeped, stiffening as you leaned into a tight hug. You were glad he was talking to you. But he was overthinking, and frustrated. Stressed, and more than anything he needed to take a break.

You expressed as much, scooting back while holding his shoulders at arm's length. "You might think it sucks, but this costume is all you've been doing. You haven't looked at anything else in a week so you've got nothing to compare it to. It's so gorgeous, Levi. Every stitch. Take a break with me and I'll help you finish it in the morning. You'll see how amazing it really is. Okay?"

A tear drop slid down his face, he quickly wiped it away. Leviathan avoided your gaze by staring at his creation, unwilling to walk away while it remained unfinished. "I'm so tired," he repeated.

"Hana Ruri-tan would want you to take a nap. And I want you to take a nap."

Leviathan frowned again, having no logical way to refute that statement. You let him tidy up a few final things as you inspected his bed-tub.

Scraps of spare fabric dangled over the sides. You picked up his sheets to brush off loose threads, plucking out a few loose pins in the process. Pillows were fluffed. Extra fabric was put on a hanger and moved elsewhere. Rolls of ribbon were wound back up. It was kind of relaxing.

Leviathan was rushing to glue a rhinestone when you called him over, his last-ditch attempt to get one more thing finished. You let him spend another couple of minutes waiting for the paste to get tacky. Once it was finally secured in place on the hat brim, he thankfully didn't object any further. After wiping his hands clean he flopped magnificently into bed.

Not even five seconds passed by before he griped, "I can't fall asleep. I can't stop thinking about the costume. I should finish it now."

"Nooo, no, no. No. Move over, you're not getting up. I'm getting in." You slipped into the tub before he could pick himself up, draping your legs over his. "The hat can wait until morning. Then we can get pics of everything, too."

Leviathan sighed in stubborn agreement. His orange eyes, puffy and a little irritated, were looking right at you for the first time that evening.

"You'll let me think about you then, right?" he asked quietly. He wrapped his arms around you, one hand bunching up the fabric on the back of your shirt while the other grazed against your bare skin. His rough fingers traced along your spine. You made a mental note to help him bandage them later.

Pulling you flush against his upper body, he nudged his face into the side of your neck and slid his lips up your shoulder. You hooked an arm under his to gently comb through his hair, resting your chin against his head. It tickled a little, but you felt each passing breath get heavier and slower as your comforting scent lulled Leviathan into much-needed sleep. You soon followed his lead.

Come morning, Leviathan had you in a tight grip while you blearily woke up on top of him. His wandering hands had found their way up your shirt during the night and one of his legs was thrown over yours. You had planned the surprise of getting up early to finish his hat for him, but at this point a surprise morning snuggle was all you could manage.

"Hmmh? What... oh!" Levi woke quickly, with the intense determination of someone ready to finish the cosplay they've been crunching for a week straight. He looked so much better with color returned to his face. Too much color, perhaps, as the more he let go of you the redder his blush became.

"I'll be... uh... bathroom." He dragged himself out of the tub and quickly walked towards the hall, failing miserably to cover his blatant embarrassment.

"Wait! Can I start working on some things while you're gone?" you asked, motioning towards the nearly-finished costume.

Leviathan nodded. "Uh, yeah...? Go ahead."

"And you'll try it all on for me when you get back, right?"

With a full night's rest behind him and the finish line in clear sight, the giddiness of an exciting new cosplay was returning and Leviathan gave a cheerful "yeah... Ok, yeah! I'll be right back, so don't go anywhere!"

#i want fluffy cosplay times with leviathan please. but instead all i get is sewing alone at 3am. so... take this! hyah!#might take a few days break from writing stuff. i feel like i'm getting stale and repetitive but hope that's my imagination.#i should start proofreading stuff probably but. i have to get back to sewing kjhga #obey me #obey me swd #obey me scenarios #obey me x mc #obey me shall we date #obey me leviathan #obey me levi x mc #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me fluff #om leviathan #obey me fanfic #in which i want to be both mc and levi

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punkshort · 3 months

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Hot Chocolate

Pairing: Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x f!reader

Summary: You lead a quiet, boring life in a podunk town, but when a certain secret agent stumbles into your world needing your help to catch a criminal at the local carnival, your quiet little life changes forever.

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, canon-typical violence (fist fights, whips and lassos, of course), smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, sexual tension

WC: 6.5K

Written for @pedgito's Summer Lovin' challenge ❤️

Humidity clung to the air, and although the sun had long set, the heat hung heavy in the fairgrounds but that didn't keep the whole town from coming out to the carnival that night. You lived in a small town with not a lot to do but every year the same carnival came through and set up shop for two weeks, attracting people within an hour's drive, and every year since you were sixteen you worked there for some extra cash. Back when you were younger, your earnings tended to go towards the booze you brought to the parties in the middle of the woods, surrounded by the familiar faces of people you grew up with and their siblings. Now that you were in your twenties, that money was put toward rent and a car payment.

When you were sixteen, you had a very different idea of what your life would look like by now. Hell, you didn't even think you'd be living in this town, let alone working the same shitty waitress job at the same shitty restaurant while you tried and failed to come up with a better career path. Money was tight and the last thing you wanted to do was move back in with your parents, so you picked up extra jobs here and there. The carnival wasn't a bad gig. Pay was based on seniority and since you had worked there for so many years, the money was good and the jobs were mostly pretty fun, but it was only two weeks and you would be back to pinching pennies again.

But a week before the carnival was scheduled to arrive, a handsome man with dark hair, even darker cowboy hat and yellow aviators strolled into your restaurant with a cocky smirk and requested to sit in your section, and everything changed.

You had greeted him like any other table and subtly stole glances his way while he studied the menu, trying to figure out if you recognized him. No, you surely would remember him. Aside from his obvious good looks, he stuck out amongst the usual crowd. Dark grey, form fitting suit with a matching tie and cowboy boots? That... you definitely would have remembered.

He leaned back in the booth, one arm draped across the back of the worn cushion while his eyes slowly dragged down your frame. You glanced around nervously, suddenly feeling like you were being judged, then his eyes traveled back up and stopped on your name tag. He repeated your name out loud as if it were a question and finally looked into your eyes. His intensity sent a shiver down your spine but you nodded, confirming your name, and he smiled. It was a slow smile, one that began as a twitch in the corner of his mouth and tugged to one side, pulling his dark mustache with it until his lips spread so wide you could see his teeth. They were straight and he actually still had all of them. Yeah, he definitely wasn't from your hometown.

He didn't come back into the restaurant after that, but it wouldn't be the last time you saw him.

Two days later you made a pit stop by the Piggly Wiggly for some groceries. You made your way through the parking lot to your beat up car, stopping dead in your tracks when he came into view. He was leaning casually against your driver's side door, one ankle hooked over the other and still wearing that suit. Or maybe it was a different suit. You couldn't remember but what you did remember was the bead of sweat that trickled down from underneath his Stetson, leaving an enticing wet streak along the side of his head. He said your name and smiled, trying to disarm you, but you were still wary. He held up both palms flat as if to prove he wasn't dangerous but something told you his hands were just as threatening as any other weapon.

"Got a minute to talk, sugar?"

You glanced around the parking lot and swallowed, every natural instinct screaming at you to run back inside the store for help but instead you found yourself slowly walking towards him, as if being pulled by a magnet or some other enchanting force.

It was a bit of a blur after that. He flashed his badge, Jack Daniels, it read, with the word Statesmen being tossed around quite a bit while he explained what he did for a living, all of it sounding rather impressive but also confusing. Espionage. Spies. Undercover.

"What's all that got to do with me?" you had said. He smiled.

"Glad you asked."

Apparently he had been trying to track down a dangerous arms dealer for years. With some information Jack squeezed out of a low level guard, he discovered the arms dealer was able to be so successful because he traveled with the carnival to evade local and federal law enforcement. Always being on the move kept him under the radar, and now Jack had his sights set on taking him down when the carnival arrived in your town, but he needed help.

Jack needed someone who was on the inside, someone who earned years of trust by working for the same people and living in the same town, someone completely unsuspecting.

You.

At first, you said no, unwilling to put yourself at risk even though he promised he would be hiding in the shadows and would be in constant communication with you through an earpiece and camera. Then he offered up a few thousand dollars to sweeten the deal and your resolve crumbled. He promised you would be under government protection and your involvement would be minimal: you just needed to find the target and let Jack know which booth he was going to work. Plus, you really needed the money.

That was how you found yourself in the mid-afternoon before your shift started being suited up with impressive, high tech gear. Jack watched patiently from the corner of the trailer. For the first time, he wasn't wearing a suit. He elected to wear a pair of dark wash jeans and a white tshirt that clung to his broad chest but he was still sporting his signature cowboy hat. A beautiful woman named Ginger outfitted you with a nearly invisible earpiece and installed a microscopic camera in the button of your polo shirt. She assured you there was a tiny microphone in the camera and that Jack and the entire team assigned to the case would be watching and ready to jump into action if anything went sideways.

Simple enough, you thought.

"How're you holdin' up, darlin'?" Jack mumbled, pinching your elbow between his fingers as he led you out of the unsuspecting double wide that currently hid Ginger and all her expensive equipment and into his Bronco.

"Uh..." you began, throat suddenly feeling dry when he started the car and turned onto the familiar stretch of road. They had set up a base in the woods about two miles away from the carnival which meant you would be there in less than five minutes. Your head was spinning, the adrenaline suddenly coursing through your veins and making you lightheaded. "Not so great, actually."

He turned his head and studied you for a moment before pulling off the road and throwing the car into park. He shifted in his seat so he could face you, one elbow resting on the back of his seat and the other on the steering wheel. "I ain't gonna let anythin' bad happen to you, you hear me?" You hadn't realized your breathing was becoming more labored and your face felt hot. He was probably just worried you were about to pass out and that's why he reached out to cup the back of your neck, forcing your attention off the carnival peeking through the trees and onto his face. Your gaze lingered on his dark brown eyes and chiseled jaw and hooked nose that looked like it would be perfect nestled between your thighs.

"You promise?" you whispered, tone a little more sultry than you intended. He swallowed and nodded.

"'Course. I'll be right there the whole time. All's you gotta do is tell me where he's gonna be and I'll do all the dirty work," he told you with a wink. Your eyes darkened a fraction, having a completely different idea of what kind of dirty work you'd like him to do before you blinked and snapped out of it. You chalked it up to your nerves but it was too late. He saw it in your eyes and he clenched his jaw, his gaze flickering down to your lips and then to the camera in your shirt before slowly pulling his hand away from the back of your neck.

"What code word d'you wanna use in case you need help and can't say it?" he asked, shifting back into work mode and merging into traffic.

You thought it over for a moment, grateful for the distraction.

"Hot chocolate."

He cocked an eyebrow and grinned. "Hot chocolate?"

"Yeah, I don't think it's something I would accidentally say because who the hell would order hot chocolate in this heat?"

He smiled wider. "Fair enough."

Jack dropped you off at the entrance of the carnival, reminding you he wouldn't be far behind and to stay alert. You bobbed and weaved your way through the crowded thoroughfare, the late afternoon sun beating down on the masses as they pushed wagons of children or carried various prizes under their arms while drinking cold lemonade or licking ice cream to combat the heat. You managed to get to the air conditioned office five minutes before your shift started and clocked in before examining the schedule. Jack had warned you the target wouldn't use his real name, so he made you study multiple photos of him the day before. Balding, but a dark horseshoe of hair curved around his head. He had a mustache, too, but not like Jack. The target's mustache was bushy and unkept, but Jack warned you that could have changed. He had a paunchy belly and he was approximately 5'10" but the most notable feature was a wide, pale scar that stretched from his right elbow to halfway down his forearm.

You glanced around the somewhat crowded office. Nobody seemed to fit that description so you focused on the schedule. You were set to work the lemonade stand. One of the more boring jobs, but at least you were with one of your good friends, Stephanie, who was working the candied apple stand next door.

"All good?" you heard Jack's gravelly voice echo through your earpiece. You had no idea how to answer that without looking like you were talking to yourself so you turned to a mirror and gave a quick thumbs up. He chuckled and you had to bite back a smile. "Alright, where are you workin' so I can get set up nearby?"

Again, you weren't sure how to answer but just then Stephanie breezed through the door. You called out her name and waved as she punched in and headed over to you, giving you a sweaty hug.

"We're working together tonight. You're on apples, I'm on lemonade next door," you told her, hearing Jack confirm your location in your ear.

"Awesome, should be a slow night after dinner," she replied, hooking her arm through yours and leading you back out into the busy dirt road lined with vendors and food carts.

As she predicted, you were rather occupied until the sun set and people began to indulge in fried dough and rides, leaving your little section of the fairgrounds quiet. For the first time in hours you glanced around, wondering if you could spot Jack, but he was no where to be found.

"So, did you meet any guys so far this summer?" Stephanie asked you, leaning over her counter and popping her gum loudly between her molars.

"Nah, not really," you replied, feeling the tips of your ears burn, knowing Jack was listening. "You?"

"Just one but he turned out to be an asshole," she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "We gotta get out of this town, girl. I swear there's no one good left. I'm either related to them or already dated them and I can't stand any of 'em."

"Yeah, maybe one day," you replied, glancing around again.

"I'm serious. Maybe we oughta make a plan, y'know? Like we always said we would? Ain't you sick of waiting tables?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," you muttered. "But where would we go? We don't know anyone outside of here."

"I got a cousin up north, maybe we can visit her and see how we like it."

For a second you almost forgot the mission when, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a man matching the target's description disappear into the crowd. You squinted but you only saw the back of him and he was quickly getting away.

"Hey, can you cover for me?" you asked, already tossing your apron off and smoothing down your skirt.

"Yeah, sure. Been dead here for the past hour, take your time."

You hustled down the street, pushing people out of the way as you tried to catch up with the man you saw.

"Sugar, I lost ya, slow down," Jack's voice crackled in your ear.

"Can't, I think I saw him," you replied.

"Do not engage, y'hear me?" Jack said sternly. He sounded breathless now, no doubt rushing to catch up with you.

"I won't, I just wanna see where he's going."

You broke through the crowd and swiveled your head from side to side, desperately trying to spot the balding man. Now that you thought about it, he looked like he was wearing the same color uniform you had on. Your pulse raced as you turned around frantically, and just when you thought you lost him you spotted him walking up the steps to the house of mirrors. When he reached out to open the door, you saw the telltale scar and gasped.

"Jack! It's him!" you said, racing through the crowd again, dodging groups of children laughing and eating cotton candy.

"... stay... where are... losin' you-" you heard Jack's voice cutting in and out through your earpiece but the excitement got the best of you and you charged forward into the house of mirrors, the door slamming shut behind you, leaving you in a mostly darkened room. The only sounds you could hear were muffled conversations from families walking by.

"Jack?" you whispered, tapping on the earpiece and taking a few shaky steps forward. "Jack, if you can hear me, I'm in the house of mirrors. He's-"

"Looking for someone?" a man's deep voice said from over your shoulder, making you jump. You swiveled around and tried not to gasp in fear. It was him: Vic Leary, aka The Falcon. It was almost laughable how Jack had been chasing the man for years only to have him directly in front of you after a few hours. He took a menacing step forward and you swallowed tightly.

"Yeah, actually. I'm looking for my friend," you said, taking a small step backwards, a step deeper into the attraction.

"That right?" Vic sneered, taking yet another step closer. "Well I'm the only one here. Sure you ain't looking for me?"

You shook your head vehemently. "N-nope. I'm supposed to meet a friend here any minute, he's meeting me with some hot chocolate," you said the last part loudly and Vic frowned. Then he seemed to piece together that you were bugged or maybe he just saw his opportunity to strike because he lunged forward. Luckily, you were prepared and stumbled backwards out of reach, causing him to fall forward on his hands and knees. You spun around and raced through the dizzying hall of mirrors, Vic's angry curses and threats shouting after you.

The next tunnel had a wall of mirrors that shifted, causing you to feel like the floor was moving. You stretched your arms out and blinked rapidly, stumbling through and glancing over your shoulder in a panic, wondering where he went. It was quiet. His yelling stopped. Did Jack find him?

The next room was a literal maze, the walls and ceilings covered in mirrors, some curved and warped, some jagged and angular. You couldn't think of a worse place to hide and you needed to get the hell out of there.

"Can anyone hear me?" you whispered into your polo shirt, wincing when all you heard was sharp feedback in your ear. You turned a corner, jumping when you saw movement but calmed down when you realized it was your own reflection six times over. You heaved a sigh of relief and took another look around, trying to decide where to go next when a big, sweaty body jumped out from behind a mirror in front of you, tackling you to the ground. You screamed bloody murder and tried to squirm away, but he had you pinned to the ground with a hand around your throat. You scratched and kicked and yelled but it was no use. His fingers gripped the side of your throat and he watched with a sick smile as you struggled to drag in air, all the while clawing at the backs of his hands so hard, you drew blood. And just when you thought you might pass out, a black cowboy boot swung from behind your head and kicked Vic directly across the jaw, making him yelp in pain and fall backwards.

You coughed and scrambled away, clutching your throat and looking up to find Jack, his shoulders and chest heaving and his eyebrows pinched together in fury. Without taking his eyes off Vic, who was cupping his mouth, his hand collecting blood, he asked, "you alright, sugar?"

You could only nod and he told you to wait for him outside, but when you stood and took a few steps back the way you came, you saw Vic stand up and run in the opposite direction, nimbly dodging the mirrors, too familiar with the maze to be slowed down. Nostrils flared, Jack reached for his belt and grabbed a braided piece of leather. His thumb pressed down on a small button and like magic, the rest of the whip unfurled at his side. He then spun it over his head twice before snapping it forward, circling around the target's neck and yanking him back to the ground with a grunt.

Jack disappeared deeper into the maze, his grip tight. You looked over your shoulder, back to the entrance, then groaned and followed Jack. When you rounded the corner, he was towering over the suspect, whip back on his belt, Vic looking like he was knocked out cold. You peered around the last mirror, hiding from view while Jack pressed something on his watch and began to speak to a small hologram of an older looking man with a beard. He was telling him that the suspect was in custody and needed backup while he dug out a pair of metal handcuffs with his free hand.

Jack was distracted and didn't realize Vic had begun to move, but you did. When Jack's back was turned, Vic quietly rose to his feet and pulled out a knife from the back of his pants. He raised his arm above his head, ready to plunge the blade into Jack's throat. You raced forward and swung your leg out, hitting the backs of his knees with your shin and bringing him back down to the ground with a thud before he had a chance to inflict any harm.

Swirling around, Jack ended the call without warning and punched Vic directly in the nose. You heard a sickening crunch of bone and a howl of pain from the man's throat, but just as Jack was about to grab his arms and haul him to his feet, Vic rolled to the side and jumped up with a surprising amount of agility. Jack groaned and reached behind him, pulling out what appeared to be a lasso. He calmly glared after Vic, who was nearly to the exit, while circling the rope above his head. The lasso began to glow an icy blue, mesmerizing you for a moment until he snapped it down with an electric crack, wrapping and pinching the rope around Vic's lower leg.

You couldn't believe your eyes when his leg cleanly and completely severed below the knee. Slapping both palms over your mouth to muffle your screams, you curled up on the floor and watched as Jack approached Vic, who was making noises so pained and fearful that you were certain you would hear them in your nightmares for the rest of your life.

Jack was handcuffing him and warning him he shouldn't have run while the man sobbed pathetically in a pool of his own blood. You just stared, your whole body trembling at the carnage, completely numb. You didn't even hear when three other agents breezed past you to collect the target, followed shortly thereafter by a small cleaning crew wearing protective gear from head to toe. Suddenly the maze, which seemed so massive before, was cramped and making you feel claustrophobic.

His eyes finally met yours once Vic was officially in custody. His expression went from one of relief to one of deep concern when he saw the state you were in and he rushed forward to collect you off the floor.

"Hey, don't look at that," he murmured, but your gaze was still pinned on the blood staining the floor. "Eyes on me, darlin'."

You forced your eyes away from the mess and onto him, like he requested, but you were finding it difficult to breathe. Each inhale was a struggle, like your lungs couldn't expand all the way, and each exhale left your ears ringing.

"Get me out of here, Jack."

He nodded once and helped you stand. With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, he ushered you back through the maze towards the entrance. Once you were able to take in a deep breath of fresh, humid air, you started to feel a little better but the adrenaline was still coursing through your body, making you feel like you were practically vibrating.

People streamed past you laughing and joking, blissfully unaware of what just happened while you sat on a nearby bench with your head between your legs. Jack soothingly rubbed your upper back and waited for you to calm down. Your energy was too intense, the vivid images of what you just witnessed too strong and Jack seemed to sense it.

"Here," he said, leaning back and lifting his hips from the bench. Your eyes instantly locked onto his lap, where his fingers began to remove a small flask from his belt buckle. When he handed it to you, hoping the alcohol would help calm your nerves, you just continued to stare, all wild eyed and rabid.

"Have a little, it'll help," he urged while trying to ignore the hungry look in your eye. You blinked slowly and, with shaky fingers, took the flask and unscrewed the top. You winced a little at the burn but a minute later, your stomach felt warm and your muscles relaxed. You handed it back to him and he took a sip himself without breaking eye contact with you, then fastened it back onto his belt. You leaned forward, once again feeling inexplicably drawn to him, and brushed your fingertips lightly over the flask. You were playing with fire and you knew it. His eyes bore into yours with a blazing heat and he whispered, "you need somethin' stronger, sugar?"

You sunk your teeth into your lower lip and nodded. He stood up and grabbed your hand, glancing around the fairgrounds manically, the adrenaline from the past twenty minutes getting the best of both of you, it seemed.

The choices were limited and the closest area with any semblance of privacy was the bathroom and you both seemed disgusted by that prospect because he muttered fuck it under his breath and dragged you off the main road towards the dark parking lot.

Once he reached his Bronco, he twisted around and violently yanked at the buttons on your polo shirt. You yelped in surprise but when he opened his hand and showed you the button he tore off with the camera attached, you nodded. He flung it into the mud and dropped his earpiece, then you scrambled to do the same. Once you were as alone as you possibly could be, he pinned you against the side of his truck and pinched your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to look at him.

"You sure?" was all he asked, pupils blown wide.

You nodded. "Please."

He groaned and crashed his mouth against yours, dropping his hand from your jaw to wrap around the back of your neck. He tasted like Jameson and you imagined you did, too. "Such a polite little thing," he whispered before plunging his tongue inside your mouth and licking past your teeth. You were moments away from unzipping his jeans and letting him take you right then and there when you heard a chorus of laughter from the next row of cars and you pulled away, gasping for air. Jack appeared just as wrecked as you felt, eyes all wild and skin hot with arousal.

"C'mon," he said, as if reading your mind he tugged you away from the car so he could open the door to the backseat. You practically launched yourself inside and by the time you spun around he was slamming the door shut behind him. He gazed at you for just a moment before shedding his cowboy hat and pressing your body into the seat, picking up where he left off. You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of leather and gunpowder and his cologne, all ingrained in the fabric after years under his care.

His lips traveled down, grazing against your jaw and nipping at the spot behind your ear. His mustache tickled your skin, making you giggle, and you felt him smile against your throat at the sound. His lips latched onto your neck, sucking a bruise there while your hands dipped underneath the hem of his white tshirt. The fabric bunched up around your wrists the higher your fingers traveled up his torso, reveling in the way the muscles in his back twitched under your touch. Then his hips dropped against yours, resting his weight heavy between your legs, and you sucked in a sharp breath.

"Jack?" you whispered hoarsely.

"Mhm?"

"I-I want you," you stammered when his thumbs brushed over your breasts, nipples hardening through your shirt. "Want you so bad."

"You got me, sweetheart. I'm all yours," he mumbled, teeth scraping gently over your collarbone as he continued to move achingly slow further and further down your body.

You moaned and arched your back, pressing your chest into him. "Jack, I want you now," you tried again, and he clicked his tongue with a smirk.

"Where'd those manners run off to?"

"Please," you groaned. He hoisted himself up, holding his weight above you, the palms of his hands pressing into the seat on either side of your ribs.

"Say it again f'me, sugar. Y'just sound so pretty when you're beggin' for it."

"Please," you whispered this time, then dragged your hand down his stomach, stopping to cup his erection through the thick denim of his jeans. You rubbed the palm of your hand up and down enticingly, drawing a quiet moan from his throat. He hissed and pressed himself into your hand, rocking his hips and watching your fingers work him up and down. "Please, Jack, I need you."

His eyes flashed up to yours once before he sat back on his heels, fumbling with the tiny flask on his belt with an urgency that told you he heard exactly what he wanted to hear. He tossed both items on the floor before undoing his jeans and then, seeming to remember you were still fully clothed, dragged his hands up your thighs and under your skirt. His palms cupped your ass and squeezed before hooking his fingers around the edge of your panties and tugging them down. You lifted your hips to help, feeling slightly disappointed there wouldn't be enough room or time for either of you to fully undress, but you would make do.

"Goddamn, that's a pretty sight," he groaned when he pushed your skirt up enough to get a good look between your legs. He ran the pad of his thumb through your slit and you began to squirm impatiently. "Now, normally I'd prefer to take my time," he began, and your heart thundered wildly in your chest when he pushed his jeans down and pulled out his cock, hard and leaking. "But it would appear we don't have the luxury today, darlin'." He used one hand to steady your hip and the other to line himself up with your entrance, then you held your breath when he started to press forward, parting your walls and forcing you to stretch around his girth.

"Shit," you whined, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes shut.

"Yeah, that's it," he whispered, watching as he slowly disappeared inside you, only looking back to your face once he was buried to the hilt. "How's that? Feelin' better now?" he asked a little breathlessly. You nodded and forced your eyes to open.

"Feels good," you murmured, licking your dry lips and gasping when he began to move. "Yeah, just like that, faster - please faster," you added hastily when you remembered his comment earlier about manners. The corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk before falling forward onto his elbows. He tugged one of your knees up so you hooked your leg around his waist, spreading your hips wide before feverishly latching his mouth onto yours, muffling your noises when he began to snap his hips faster and deeper.

"This what you needed?" he whispered in your ear. You tightened your arms around his neck, holding him close, the desire suddenly overwhelming to have him completely consume you and keep you in the safety of his arms. "Needed me to fuck you and turn that little brain of yours off for a while? Hm?"

"Yes," you admitted shamelessly. He was fucking everywhere. His mouth was drifting from your lips to your neck to your ear, his hands groping and gliding along your stomach or legs, his cock sliding smoothly in and out, each time catching on that one spot that made you see stars. Even his body heat felt like it was fully encompassing you. And he was right: it was exactly what you needed.

"Christ, too fuckin' good, sweetheart," he breathed, his hips stuttering for a moment before resuming a punishing pace. The way his lips melted against your own while the tip of his cock reached a depth inside you didn't know was possible was making your vision blur and your breath ragged. You were so caught up in the moment that you hadn't yet considered you wouldn't see him again after that night. Nor did you have a chance to realize how long you had been gone from the lemonade stand. Nothing else outside of his car mattered.

"Jack," you whimpered as heat began to lick and wrap around your spine. Your stomach tightened and your mouth was wide open, pulling in mouthfuls of air as quickly as you could. You were so close but you just needed a little more. He was busy pushing your polo shirt up and yanking down your bra, his hot tongue swiping greedily over your nipples one at a time with an appreciative groan before he sunk his teeth into your soft flesh, no doubt trying to leave a mark to remember him by.

"Love the way you say my name, darlin'. Music to my ears."

As if he could read your mind, his had slipped between your bodies and began to thumb at your clit. Your thighs tensed and you cried out, his name the only word your brain was able to conjure up, which, based on his enthusiastic reaction, pleased him greatly. You couldn't stop yourself. Your body began to meet him, thrust for thrust, your hips rolling, matching his rhythm and forcing his thumb to apply more pressure. Before you even had a chance to warn him your orgasm crashed down around you, so powerful and intense that it sent you reeling, his name and a string of unintelligible curses the only thing falling from your lips. And he fucking loved it.

"Oh, look at you," he groaned, "pretty little thing, all fucked out. Goddamn, you're gonna make me come, darlin'." His large hand splayed across your ribs and he stared, slack jawed, at the way your tits bounced from the force of his thrusts. "Shit, shit, shit," he grumbled, his jaw locking as he closed in on his release. "Where, sugar?"

"Inside," you moaned, trying to force your eyes to stay open so you could watch. He clicked his tongue against his teeth and dragged his eyes back up to your face.

"Don't say that."

"Please," you whispered, and you could see his resolve crumbling.

"Fuck," he groaned, then he shifted so he could grab onto your hips with both hands. It didn't take much longer, but each thrust after that was harsh and unforgiving until his body stilled and he came with a broken moan that you made sure to commit to memory. He panted for air and tilted his head back when he was done, his fingers still gripping your waist. An incoming call came through, lighting up the face of his high-tech watch, but he ignored it. Once he caught his breath and he began to soften inside you, he rolled his head forward, gazing down at you in admiration. "You're somethin' else," he rasped, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a half-smirk.

"You sound surprised," you teased.

"I am, but not because of this," he said, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against your lips. He slid out of you with a grunt and you sharply sucked in air at the loss. His dark eyes lingered a moment on his spend dripping out of you before gently fixing your bra and top. The sweet gesture made you smile.

"What, then?"

He grinned and tucked himself back in his jeans, then handed you your panties. "You saved my hide back there, brave girl," he murmured, pinching your chin affectionately. "Kickin' his legs out like that. Didn't know you had it in you."

You shrugged and tugged your underwear back on. "I didn't really think about it, he was going to stab you, I had to do something."

He hummed and leaned back in the seat, watching as you fixed your skirt and tried to tame your hair in the mirror before spotting his discarded cowboy hat on the floor. You grinned and picked it up, plopping it onto your head with a giggle. "How do I look?"

"Fuckin' beautiful," he said, making you laugh, "although you're doin' things a little backwards, sugar."

"What do you mean?" you asked, taking it off to see if you put it on wrong. He smiled and gently took the hat from your fingers and put it back on your head.

"The rule is, you wear a man's Stetson, you gotta ride the cowboy, but seein' as we did that already..." he trailed off and you giggled again when you finally understood. "But I suppose it depends on who you ask. Could mean somethin' else, too."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Some say if the cowboy lets the lady wear his hat then he's interested in seein' her again," he said softly, watching as you became flustered at the suggestion.

"Oh," you breathed, feeling your skin heat up under his gaze. Reality slowly began to seep in. Now that Jack found his man, he would go back to wherever he came from and your boring life would go back to normal. But then he hooked a finger under your chin so you would focus back on him.

"Would you like that?"

"Would I ... yeah, of course, but-"

"I heard what you were sayin' to your friend. 'Bout wantin' to move?" he said, dropping his hand and shifting his weight. "What if we had a spot for you at the agency? Maybe doin' somethin' with Ginger, learn the ropes a bit? I think you got potential, sweetheart."

You laughed and shook your head. "I can't do what you guys do, are you serious?"

"You got guts. We can teach anyone how to use a weapon, but guts? That can't be taught."

When it became apparent he wasn't joking, you cleared your throat and glanced out the window. "I don't know..."

"You said yourself you're sick of waitin' tables," he reminded you, then pulled out a white business card and handed it to you. "I know it's a big decision. Think it over and gimme a call." He paused for a moment and a slow smile spread across his face. "But how 'bout you gimme a call either way?"

"Okay," you practically whispered, looking down at the card before shoving it safely in your pocket. He pushed open the door and slid down to the ground, then turned around and held out a hand for you.

You spent the rest of your night thinking over Jack's offer, replaying over and over in your mind everything you learned about the Statesmen in the past week and trying to imagine if that was something you could possibly do. You had pretty much decided it was a stupid idea, that it was dangerous and things like that didn't happen to girls like you, but when you punched in for your shift at the restaurant on Monday and looked around the dining room at the same patrons eating the same food they always did, listening to the same boring gossip and worrying about the same bills that always plagued you, something finally snapped. You tore off your apron and tossed it behind the computer before snatching your purse and walking out the front door without a second glance behind you.

You got into your beat up car and breathlessly dialed the number you had been staring at all weekend, your heart slamming in your chest excitedly. When Jack's familiar drawl answered on the other end, a huge smile spread across your face.

"That offer still stand, cowboy?"

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eymie · 8 months

Note

Billy x fem reader where she likes horses or tends to them and thats how billy and her meet?

i’ve been so so busy i’m sorry this took a while. also i was feeling like writing something fluffy but i might make a part two with smut. ((probably) definitely*)

It’s also been a hot minute since I’ve rode a horse so bear with me.

part two

SWEET TOOTH !

You kept to yourself most the times. Only coming into town when you needed to, soft smiles to people who nodded at you.

Your family owned a farm not too far past town, growing up spending most your time in the barn you became acquainted with the horses. You fed them and tended to them. They were like your closest friends. You were homeschooled by your aunt who used to be a teacher herself so you never met many other kids your age.

When your parents got older you started making more town trips for them, making business deals, the doctors, the bank. Most people in town were friendly with you, many bought your goat milk or your eggs.

You tied up your favourite horse to the fence post. Pulling a sugar cube from your pocket, which embarrassingly enough you always kept on you. They were expensive and your mother would have your head if she found out but you couldn’t help it, horses loved them

You fed your favourite horse, Aspen, a small sugar cube. Scratching in between her ears, kissing her cheek.

“Atta girl, don’t go talking to strangers.” She nuzzled against your shoulder as you walked off into a shop. Your father had asked you to grab a new hammer while you were out so he could fix up a few loose floorboards. You looked back out the window to make sure Aspen was still tied up.

“Oh, hello darlin’” You turned to see one of the ladies who was a loyal customer. She was a sweet older lady, always stopping by for some eggs. “Rarely see you in town.”

“Yeah, I know.” You smiled, admiring the way her clothes were neat and clean. Her husband made good money and her kids were grown. “Don’t got any eggs on me, sorry ma’am.”

“Oh don’t worry ‘bout that, still got plenty. I know where to find you if I run out.” You nodded, going back to your shopping. Usually you had a stand in town to sell your eggs, or some shops sold for you but you had your specialty customers.

You grabbed one of the cheaper hammers off the shelf, walking over to the register area. You placed it on the table, pulling out your cash. As you hand the worker your money you look over to see a man and your horse.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.” You quietly thank the worker, grabbing your change and hammer and running out the store. The man turned to look at you, backing off a bit. “What’re you doin’?”

“Oh, nothing miss.” He stepped away from your horse a bit, his eyes darting down to the hammer in your hand. “Not going to hit me with that are you?”

You look down at the hammer in your hand and quickly put it away in your bag.

“‘Course not, m’not an animal.” You stepped closer, he didn’t back away this time. You noticed a pistol in his holster. “You can’t be talking much anyway with that gun in your pocket.”

“I suppose not.” He muttered, lifting his hat off his head. “Got a nice horse here.”

“I know that,” You look down to notice an apple in the man’s hand. You step closer again, rubbing your hand along Aspens side. “Where’s yours?”

“Oh, Lady’s just over there.” He nods to a horse tied up across the road at a boarding house. You thought she suited him quite nice.

“So you just come over introducing yourself to every horse in town.” You ask, admiring his messy brown hair. He had a bit of dirt on his nose but you weren’t going to point it out.

“Well not every horse comes along with a girl as pretty as you.” You blushed, looking down at the dusty ground. Sure a few men flirted with you in the past, but none as handsome as this man in front of you.

“That for her?” You point out the apple in his hand. He grabs your hand, placing the fresh apple into it.

“She looked a bit hungry.” He said, watching as you held the apple flat on your hand for her. He admired as you rubbed behind her ear as she ate from the palm of your hand. “Looks like she’s got a sweet tooth.”

“She sure does.” You smile, feeding her the last of the apple. You rubbed her cheek as she leaned down to get some of the apple chunks that had fell.

“She got a name?” The man asked, tilting his head. He really was awfully pretty, nice too. His arm rested against Aspen, fingers tracing her.

“Not telling unless you’d like to tell me yours.” You never flirted with a man before, you didn’t mean to be now but it came off that way. He laughed a bit look down and then back up at you.

“Billy,” He told you. You liked the way his name sounded, the way if rolled right off the tongue. His name suited him.

“I like that name.” You admitted, feeling almost too honest and blunt once you said it. Your cheeks flushed a bit in embarrassment.

“Mmm, there’s better out there.” He hummed, stepping a bit closer to you. You would’ve backed up if it was any other man you were talking to. If you knew who he was you should’ve been. “Now you gonna tell me or what?”

He was playful with his words, not intimidating or threatening.

“Aspen, but I got a few more horses back at home.” You thought about what it would be like to invite Billy to your farm, show him around the barn.

“Yeah?” He looked up at you, almost like he was asking a question. You looked like the sweetest girl he’d seen in a while, innocent and honest.

“Maybe I could show you sometime, how long you stayin’?” You really did wanna talk to him, knowing you probably wouldn’t be back in town for a little while. You didn’t want to miss the opportunity.

“I’d like that.” He nodded, putting his hat back on his head. The dark brim shadowing his face. “What’s your name?”

“Well that’s a secret.” You giggled, untying Aspen from the post. Billy didn’t have to help you mount her like he would’ve tried with other girls.

“How am I gonna find you without a name?” He asked, looking up at you. You shrugged, and he furrowed his dark eyebrows.

“I better be headin’ home, bye Billy.” You clicked your heels, Aspen backing up a bit. You turned back to look at Billy who was still waiting your name. “I’ll keep my word, promise.”

“I’d hope so.” He tilted his head, nodding you a goodbye. He watched as you and Aspen rode down the dusty road.

“What you doin’ talking to the farm girl.” He turned at the voice, the butcher was leaving the shop purchasing new knives. He was a burly man, usually buying your chickens and pigs if you.

“Farm girl?”

“Yeah, she lives with her family on that farm on the edge of town.” Billy nodded, knowing just how he could see you again.

masterlist

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caesium-55 · 5 months

Text

—everything is orange. [ iv ]

pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader

summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.

note: omg im so sorry for not being online lately. i got a writing part time job now so... i may not be as active as before. hope yall are having a great day! not edited. not beta read.

masterlist.

Everything inside your studio is gray. The walls, the couch, the floor, the instruments. It's the kind of room that will make a sad beige mom over the moon.

But when you open the door and the sight of one Lando Norris greets you, looking devilishly handsome in his dark blue button up shirt and black pants and Nike sneakers with his curls concealed underneath his dark blue bucket hat, the studio suddenly doesn't feel as gray as it usually is.

“Lando?” Your brows rise towards your hairline. Truthfully, he’s one of the last people you expected to see inside HAN Ent’s building, much less outside your studio.

“Hi,” he smiles charmingly at the shock in your voice, showing all teeth and smile lines. “Do you mind if I come in?”

You stammer, still not over your shock, “S-Sure.”

You step aside to grant him space and allow him to enter your magic shop. Lando’s eyes curiously roam around the studio and you close the door behind him, nudging the houseplant further to the wall using your foot to avoid getting tripped on it in the future.

“Take a seat. Please,” you invite, gesturing towards the couch. Lando takes the invitation and sits down. He looks too big on the couch, you note. He has long legs and an athletic build. Perhaps, it’s time to buy a bigger one.

“Nice place,” he compliments.

You want to snort out loud but refrain yourself from doing so.

Lando is saying things out of politeness.

Your studio is shit.

You know that.

It used to be a stock room that was converted into a studio when Yoon PD-nim offered you that deal, that's why the room is graciously small. They soundproofed the walls, painted everything gray, shoved in a few pieces of recording equipment and called it a day.

It's still quite nice of Lando to compliment the place though. You might hate this place but this is your wizard’s tower, your witch’s hut, your magic shop, and you feel pride swell in your chest when someone thinks your little corner is cool, even if you think he’s lying.

“Thanks,” you say sincerely. “How did you know I was…”

“I asked Jinnie,” he says simply.

“Ah,” your tone falls flat.

A moment's pause.

“So this is where you’ve been working?”

You nod. Suddenly, you feel conscious.

Your studio isn't really in the best state right now. When you work in a creative fever, you tend to make a mess. Being messy enhances your creativity. The sprawled papers with lyrics, the empty styro cups of coffee lying around, numerous pens and pencils (you don't even know why you feel the need to bring a lot of them) and rubber erasers, and your snacks. There's a mountain of crumpled paper in your trash can.

“Sorry, the place isn't really….” you trail off, making vague gestures with your hand. “I didn't know you were coming.”

“It's okay,” he chuckles. “I called, you know. And texted. You didn’t return any of it.”

“Oh, my phone’s charging,” you say, beginning to feel bad that you accidentally ignored him. “And my notifs are silent.”

“That explains it.”

“Shouldn't you be resting?” you asked. “You have a flight tomorrow.”

It's currently the 19th. Lando is set to leave for Japan on the 20th. His team wants him in Suzuka by September 20 and not later than that. They already had a field day when Lando announced that he's flying with you. At first, he wanted it to be just you and him. His team wouldn't let him because he can be a PR nightmare if given enough freedom so they let his manager, Kyla, tag along.

You’ve mistaken Kyla as a member of the PR team. Turns out she’s his manager.

“Is it a sin to want to spend a few hours with my girlfriend before I go?” he flutters his eyes innocently. You snorted.

“Fake but okay.”

“I’m being sincere here, girlfriend,” he pushes his lips into a pout. “Did you eat already?”

“No,” you answer.

“Should we grab something together?”

“Should we?” you humor his suggestion. It's been a few hours since you’ve eaten. You’ve skipped both breakfast and lunch.

“I think I can call a restaurant and make a reservation.”

“It's near midnight,” you point out, glancing down at the Rolex decorating his wrist. Isn't he aware of how late it is?

“So?”

“Restaurants are closed by now,” you state.

Lando shrugs.

“I can make the effort of finding those seafood pasta you like.”

Your brows furrow.

“What do you mean like? I never said I like those.”

“But I thought…” Lando blinks. “I’ve read it somewhere…”

“Huh?”

“You're from Jeju, right? You grew up eating seafood so you like seafood and you once said you have a palate for Italian food. I tried…liking the pasta with seafood. I hated it but I ate it anyway.”

Your jaw hangs open at the revelation.

This is single-handedly the sweetest thing someone has ever done to you.

You don't know whether to be touched about the sincerity or to cry because of his idiocy. You can definitely do both but you refuse to do both. You have an image to maintain.

“Didn't I tell you that the company manipulated my public information?” you ask incredulously. “Yes, I was from Jeju but I didn’t eat seafood much. I have a mild allergy—”

“In seafood?” you see his eyes widen into saucers. Oops, you shouldn't have said that. “Wait, you had an allergy attack, didn't you? On those lunch dates we had? Why didn't you tell me so early on?”

“I thought you liked it!” your voice raises slightly, panicked. You're caught. He isn't supposed to know about this.

“I didn't?! I loathe seafood but I ate a few bites because I thought you liked it!”

You blink at him. That is the sweetest while simultaneously the most stupid thing someone has ever done for you. You drag a hand across your face, a groan escaping your mouth and yet you’re smiling. You shake your head at him.

Points for Lando Norris for making you capable of feeling frustrated and another feeling you cannot name.

“We’re idiots.”

There is a stretch of silence before Lando speaks up.

“What do you want to eat? And please tell me the real one.”

You began listing the first three things that appeared inside your brain, “I like…. ramyeon, natto, and tteokbokki.”

You have a palate for convenience store food. Food that you can find in busy night markets. Food that is sold by street vendors. The kind of food that tastes like absolute shit if cold but tastes like home if microwaved into the right amount of temperature. If you venture in your imagination hard enough, you can taste your mother’s cooking after a few bites. But you don't tell Lando that.

“We can eat that.”

You raise a brow.

“The ramen, the chicken, and the tteokdokdok.”

“Tteokbokki,” you correct him gently.

“Tteoktokki,” he repeats.

“Tteok.”

“Bokki.”

“Tteokbokki.”

“Tteokdokki.”

You shake your head, “Tteok-Bo-Kki.”

“Tteok-Bo-Kki.”

You snap your fingers, nodding in approval, “Better.”

“I literally said the same thing.”

“You didn't.”

“Where will we eat this tteokbokki?” He says the tteokbokki slowly, careful with his pronunciation.

“There are night markets nearby,” you tell him. “It’s crowded though. I know a good convenience store that’s a good drive away. It’s usually empty. Do you go to convenience stores?”

You suddenly feel stupid for asking.

Do multi-millionaires like Lando Norris go to convenience stores? It’ll make much more sense if he books restaurants or employs a private chef to cook for him at home. Do they even have a palate for instant food? What do rich people snack on? You don't know. You're not rich. Even after becoming famous, you’re still not rich enough to live the life of luxury.

This just highlights the difference of the worlds you and Lando live in.

“I do. Just not frequently,” he shrugs. “We can go to the convenience store if you want. I don't mind.”

“No, it’s fine. We can eat anywhere you want. Jinnie might have a few hotel restaurants in mind.”

“But do you want to eat in hotel restaurants?”

His question makes you pause and Lando immediately takes your hesitation as a no.

“We can eat anything you want to eat. This is your place anyway. Show me around.”

You bite your lower lip as you contemplate. Should you or should you not? That is the question.

When your eyes drag themselves back to Lando’s face, you see that he’s already looking at you intently as he awaits your answer patiently. You want to shrink back at the intensity of his gaze.

“Well then, do you want to go on a convenience store date with me, boyfriend?”

Despite the hesitation he’s displayed earlier, Lando grins at your offer.

You take Lando to your favorite place in all of South Korea. Google Maps says it's a three hour drive away. You arrive there in two hours and a half.

Maybe it's a sign to change careers.

You used your Jeep Wrangler. Lando offered to drive but you shook your head and hopped on the driver’s seat, him taking the passenger seat.

You won't allow anyone to drive your car. It's a rule of yours.

The last time you allowed someone to drive your car, your Hyundai jumped over a sewage canal. Lando might be a professional race car driver and that alone spoke multitudes of his driving skills, but you're so traumatized with the incident with your Hyundai that you physically can't allow anyone, professional driver or not, to handle the steering wheel of any other cars you own.

Cars are expensive. You can't buy another car. You’ll bawl when you see the money departing your bank account.

You palm the steering-wheel with your right hand. Your left hand lays flat on the back of the passenger seat, behind Lando’s head. Your upper body is rotated towards the back, full focus activated as you reverse the car in expert ease. Lando is observing you, you can tell. You can feel his eyes burning holes in your side profile.

“You okay?” You ask Lando. The man has gone uncharacteristically silent when you’ve started reversing the car. You hear Lando let out a breath. Almost shakily. You cannot tell for sure.

“Yeah,” his voice breaks like a boy undergoing puberty and you have to thin your lips into a line to prevent yourself from laughing. “Nice parking skills.”

“Thanks,” you say nonchalantly. “You sure you're okay though?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” you see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he rubs his throat. “I think the seatbelt’s a little too tight.”

Once the car’s perfectly parked, you kill the engine and exit the car. Lando follows suit.

“I don't know why you have to drive for almost three hours just to visit this place,” Lando gestures to the surroundings. “There's nothing here.”

“Exactly,” you say. “Come on, boyfriend.”

You pat his shoulder and lead the way. A bell chimes loudly as you push the door open. You step inside, the British racer only a few steps behind you. You tug down your mask.

“What's this place?” Lando questions.

“24-hour convenience store,” you answer. “But no staff.”

“No staff?” he asks. “So self service?”

“Ah yes, that’s the word. Self service,” You say. “Quite nice, right? We have complete privacy and good food. Two best things in the world.”

“Careful. Your introvert is showing.”

You snort, “First time coming to a place like this?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “No staff? Does nobody attempt to steal things?”

You shrug, “Probably not. Ramen is not worth going to jail for.”

“This shop will make a million dollar loss in an hour if it's in another country,” Lando says, his nose wrinkling. “Like in the UK or US or something.”

You beckon Lando to follow you through the aisles, “This way.”

“You even memorize the places of things,” he comments. “You come here often?”

You hum a yes. You stop in front of the freezer and open it, pulling out two plastic cups.

Lando’s forehead creases, “Just ice?”

“This is an ice cup,” you explain.

“Are we going to wait for the ice to melt before drinking it or….”

You stare at him incredulously before promptly bursting out in laughter.

“What's funny?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“Nothing, sorry,” you clear your throat. You don't know why you find that funny. Your humor is broken. “They sell pouches of juice or coffee and you pour it into the cup.”

Lando’s head tilts. He looks like a confused baby owl.

“Here, I’ll show you,” you walk up to a nearby shelf and grab a Kuromi pouch. It's peach-flavored. “This. You pour it here.”

You gesture to the ice cup. Lando’s mouth forms a circle in realization.

“Cool.”

“There are a lot of flavors,” you add, gesturing to the shelf. “Peach, apple, mango, strawberry, orange…”

You read out the flavors for Lando because you know he can't read Hangul. Lando wordlessly picks a grapefruit-flavored pouch. You nod.

“Good choice. Oh wait, we forgot to get a basket. Can you?”

Lando nods and leaves. When he comes back, now with a yellow basket, the two of you continue to browse down the entire store. You explain each of the food. He said no to most of them. Lando is a picky eater, you learn.

The two of you fill the basket near to the brim. You pay for each item, even though Lando insisted that he do it, and you occupy the table that faces that floor-to-ceiling glass window, overlooking the darkness of the night outside.

“Here,” you hand him a plastic fork. Lando accepts it, his brows furrowed. “You were struggling with the chopsticks.”

A shy smile makes its way to his face, “Sorry.”

You wave your hand as if to say it's no problem and plop down on the chair beside him. Lando digs in with his Buldak Samyang carbonara while you stir your Yoppoki Tteokbokki with yours before taking your first bite. You immediately let out a moan of pleasure.

“Is it delicious?” he asked.

“Very.”

You eat until your cheeks fill, chewing slowly.

“Oh wait, you should post something.”

“Now?”

“You took pictures of me earlier, right?” you know he did. He tried to be slick about it but you’d know if someone is taking a picture of you. “Put it on your story.”

“And delete it?”

“No. The world already knows we're dating anyway. Well, fake dating.”

Lando pulls out his phone and shows you the pictures in his gallery. There are aare a total of four pictures. Three are blurry. The other one is blocked by his finger.

“That one is good.”

“What do you mean good? It's blurry.”

“Blurry is an aesthetic.”

Lando shakes his head but opens his Instagram and begins to edit the photo you’ve chosen, “Help me with the caption?”

“I’m not good with them.”

“Me neither.”

“Your first caption was pretty good.”

“You think so?” he sounds hopeful.

You shrug your shoulders.

“Just say something like ‘her’ then put a period.”

That's the limit of your creative powers for the day.

Lando nods and begins typing. He’s typing quite long for a word with three letters and a single punctuation mark. He shows you the caption.

Your brows furrow.

He laughs, “I’m funny.”

“You’re really not,” you shake your head. “Put it in your drafts.”

“So I’m not posting it now?”

“You post it after we leave the place,” you say. “So we’ll be gone by the time the fans see it and decide they’ll come here.”

“That's very smart.”

“That's not being smart. That’s just common sense,” you state flatly.

“You know, I always thought you'd be a cold person.”

You raise a brow, not entirely sure if you're understanding him correctly. Cold is an adjective. It's used to describe temperature. You're uncertain if it can be applied to use as an adjective to describe a person.

Lando must have sensed your confusion that he adds, “Ice queen.”

Oh.

Yeah.

Okay. You understand it now.

“You used to look so cold and cool,” Lando says. “Ice queen. But also an IDGAF attitude. Very intimidating.”

You have no idea what IDGAF means but you nod your head and act like you understand him anyway. You make a mental note to search it up on the internet later.

“But you’re not.”

“I’m not,” you echo.

“You’re actually pretty sweet,” he adds.

“I’m trying to be kind.”

“You don't have to try. You already are.”

“The companies make us act sometimes.”

“What?”

“Like, before debut,” you begin. “There are companies that assign certain images to their idols. They give them parts to play like directors do to actors in movies. Like, oh, you look like this kind of person so you have to act like this kind of person. They take a look at your visuals and decide what role you’ll have. They took one look at my face and told me that I have to be a strict and serious person who is scary and cold and unbothered. I didn't want to do it because I tend to smile really easily before and I just wanted to have a lot of friends, you know?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“When you’re intimidating, you tend to not have a lot of them. Despite that, I followed the role. Many praised me for it and others just….well, they didn't like it. The company was happy, though. They told me I was good at acting. But it's just…sad that the person I am on the screen is not real.”

“Yeah, that's honestly sad. I can't imagine doing that for my team. I’ll suck at it. Imagine me cold and serious,” Lando makes a serious face but he ends up doing a The Rock Smoulder. You have to stop yourself from laughing out loud by thinning your lips and twisting it.

“You're doing it, though. For the team. This whole fake dating thing,” you gesture to yourselves.

Lando mutters something under his breath while stroking his chin. You don't catch it.

“Hm?”

“Nothing. I think your eyes are pretty.”

He's changing the subject. He does it so swiftly, too.

“I know, I thank my mother every day for it,” you joke and Lando chuckles softly. “But don't be jealous, you have pretty eyes yourself.”

He turns into a lovely shade of pink. You can see it. You don't speak of it.

“It changes colors sometimes,” you continue, pointing at your eyes. “Like, it’s kind of gray in the dark. But if the sun shines on it, it has three colors.”

“You stare at my eyes a lot, do you?”

“Well, if a certain thing is pretty, you can't help but stare, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess that's why I stare at you a lot, too.”

You laugh, the sound airy, shaking your head. What a flirt. The cute kind.

“I’m quite the head turner, aren't I?”

“You are,” he agrees seriously.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

He smirks, confident.

“Careful, you might fall for me, fake girlfriend,” he says cheekily. You have the desire to shatter his ego so you did.

“You're handsome but you're not my type.”

His smirk falters. You give a chortle.

“What's your type then?” he asks, leaning slightly forward. His eyes reflect anticipation.

You fall into a momentary thoughtful silence, “For starters, attractive men who can drive very fast cars. With a racing license this time. Not like me.”

Lando smiles at your light attempt at a joke. Good to know that he finds the dark humor surrounding your career-ending scandal funny.

“I am an attractive man,” he gestures to his face. “With a priceless face and I drive a very fast car. Formula one or sports cars. Oh and would you look at that? I have a racing license and a regular driving license.”

“You are an attractive man,” you agree. “But again, not my type.”

Lando dramatically puts his hand against his chest, right above where his heart lies and acts like you just shot him dead on the spot.

“Hmm, what else? Ah, plays golf,” you list another trait of your ideal man.

“I play golf,” he crosses his arms, leans back against the back of his seat, and lifts his hips a little as he adjusts his sitting position on the chair, manspreading a little. This is one of the subtle things men do that women cannot help but find attractive. You’re also a woman. Of course, you find that attractive.

You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. Lando laughs at you.

“A few years older than me.”

When Lando opens his mouth, you cut him off, holding up a finger, “I’m older than you.”

By months only but still.

“In the standards of your fake birthday, I am older than you.”

You huff, shaking your head. He is right, to some degree. The world thinks he is older than you because HAN Entertainment decided to lie about your birthday.

“Looks good in red.”

“You know, orange is a mixture of red and yellow. Technically, it's still red. So I look good in red. One plus one equals two. I am connecting shit.”

He raises two index fingers in the air and connects them together to put further emphasis on the words he imparted in a sage-like manner.

“You're not connecting anything.”

“Hell yeah, I am. I am so smart, I should just be McLaren’s chief strategist. Maybe then I can finally get my first win.”

You cannot help but raise an amused brow.

“Fine, if you're so smart Mr. Strategist, what's plan A to your victory?”

His answer comes immediately, no hesitation and he utters it with so much confidence in his chest: “Sneak into Red Bull and steal their car.”

You abruptly burst out laughing, the sound filling up the entire convenience store. You cannot hold it in anymore. You have to slap a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself down.

You don't laugh pretty. You're very much aware of that. You sound like a dolphin when you do. But Lando is so funny that you forget to feel conscious of the weird sound that leaves your mouth for a whole five seconds before you remember to compose yourself and stop.

“You don't have to cover your mouth when you laugh, you know?” he says. “Or try to stop yourself from laughing. Just laugh if you want.”

You give him a look. Why is he turning serious all of a sudden?

“Wait, red?” Lando does a double take once you’ve composed yourself. “Don’t tell me your ideal type is….”

His forehead creases. You nod.

He says, “Carlos?!” the same time you say, “It’s Kim Mingyu.” How did he even come to that conclusion?

Oh wait. Red. Older than you. Drives fast cars. Racing license. Makes sense.

You blink at each other.

“Who the hell is Kim Mingyu?”

“You don't know Kim Mingyu?” you pull out your phone, open Google Photos, and search for the folder named: 민규❤️❤️❤️. The folder contains 7659 photos of Kim Mingyu.

“Fake boyfriend, let me introduce you to my boyfriend, Kim Mingyu,” you show your favorite Mingyu photo.

The one where he’s wearing a black fitted shirt, his cheek against the back of his hand, and the veins in his arms bulging. He’s serving major boyfriend vibes.

Lando rolls his eyes.

“He doesn’t look that good.”

“No, Lando, you are not seeing it,” you hold the phone closer to his face.

“I am seeing it and I am saying he’s not good looking.”

“Lies.”

“I'm not lying.”

“It's Kim Mingyu.”

“And?”

You pull a face, retracting your phone. “Come on, he’s quite good looking. And tall. Very tall.”

You once have to stand beside him in an ending ceremony in Inkigayo. You barely even come up to his chest.

“I’m tall.”

“You’re shorter than him.”

“You're killing me here.”

You chuckle. You pat his shoulder in faux sympathy.

“There, there. That's okay. You're my boyfriend anyway. Don't be jealous.”

“Damn right, I am.”

You snort.

“But you have to stan Seventeen though. After your race in Suzuka, we’ll try to binge GoSe.”

When you’re too full to finish the rest of your tteokbokki, you drag Lando outside the convenience store.

“Sand?” he questions.

“Sand,” you state.

“There's sand in my shoes,” Lando complains.

“Take it off and like,” you make the motion of flipping your shoes upside down to remove the sand inside. He does as you’ve told him but he seems to be not fully satisfied with it. There is still sand inside his shoe.

“This won't do,” he says. “I should have brought flip flops.”

“Let's go barefoot,” you kick off your shoes and neatly place them on the foot of a nearby coconut tree. You motion for Lando to do the same, but you’re met with hesitance.

“What if someone steals them?”

It's a valid concern to have, you suppose. You look around you. Darkness is all that can be perceived.

“Who’d steal them? Cheonyeogwisin?”

“I don't even know what that is.”

“Just leave the shoes here, Lando.”

The sand feels good underneath your feet. A bit ticklish. A little too familiar. You turn on the flashlight of your phone and jog up to the shore.

“Wait for me!” you hear Lando scream from behind you.

“Palli!” you yell back, voice almost drowning in the wind.

“I am palli-ing!”

You roll your pants up to your knees and soak your feet in the cold waves, shivering. You turn around just as Lando body slams you and the two of you fall into the ice-cold waves. Your jaw comes slack, eyes wide. The two of you are now drenched from head to toe.

Lando bashfully smiles, “Sorry.”

“Lando!” you splash him in his face.

Lively shrieks fill the silent night sky. The stars twinkle with mirth at the two of you, the line between fake and real blurring.

Lando flies out just four hours after you arrive in Seoul proper. You feel bad for bringing him somewhere far and not giving him enough hours to rest. Then, he tells you: "It's one of the best nights I've ever had."

He sounds so sincere that you have to stop yourself from blushing red.

In the schedule Jinnie gave you, you are only required to make an appearance in the race proper on the 24th. You have the 20th, 21st, and 22nd to work on your single before having to fly out on the 23rd. Regardless, you fly to Japan on the 21st with Jinnie in tow, two days earlier than your original schedule.

Jinnie doesn't question nor protest against your obvious disobedience on the appointed schedule. You're glad she didn't.

"Lando?" you question after seeing the man standing behind your hotel door. It's nearly twelve and you've just checked in the hotel with Jinnie. "What are you..."

"Just checking in," he smiles. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"Don't you have a race tomorrow?" Despite your question, you sidestep to let him inside your hotel room. "You should be resting."

"That's okay. I'm well rested. Are you going to watch the FP1 tomorrow?"

You shake your head, "I'm going to work on my song."

"Oh," his face falls. "Why'd you fly in early then?"

You shrug.

Honestly, you don't know either.

It's an act based purely on impulse. Not your finest moments.

"Maybe I can watch?" you say. "I'm not really sure."

You don't want to get mobbed again.

ORACLE has a rather large fanbase in Japan. You know there will be curious fans who'll await your appearance in the race. And while you're glad that your PR relationship with Lando is receiving the right type of attention from the public, you still hate having this much attention on you.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Lando says.

"I'll go," you decide with finality. "I mean this is why we're doing this in the first place, right? Make people believe that we're real."

Lando's lips form a line.

"I suppose."

"Then, I'll be there."

The song making can wait.

Once again, Jinnie takes charge in deciding your clothing. You’ve long since given up on protesting or even suggesting your ideas. You have to get used to it again. Wearing whatever is given to you like a doll. After all, you are to return to the stage of KPop again.

Today’s WAG OOTD is a Miu Miu black dress, a black leather jacket, and Gianvito Rossi strappy sandals. Nothing too impressive. It's just the free practice sessions after all.

Jinnie hands you the McLaren ball cap and you grimace.

“How's the song coming up?”

“I’ve been trying to combine my demos and see how it sounds,” you reply. “But I have a concept in mind and I jotted down a few phrases for the lyrics.”

“I got an email from Yoon PD-nim today. He’s strongly suggesting you use a racing concept for your single.”

Strongly suggesting.

Translation: commanding.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Fuck it.

He’s really going to use the scandal and hope it’ll make you rise from the ashes like a phoenix reborn. The problem is that you're far from a phoenix. You’re human. As disappointing that may be but that is the cold truth. You're uncertain how people will react if you use a racing concept. You cannot afford to risk this over something like this.

You have one chance. And if KNetz reacts badly on your song and your MV, you’re never going to have another chance to go back on stage, to go back home.

Yoon PD-nim is too thoughtless at times. You want to shake him.

Jinnie drives you to the paddock and drops you to the parking lot. You expect that you’ll have to find your way to the garage again alone. Your knees are trembling as you step out of the car.

To your surprise, a staff member of the McLaren team—you assume he works for the team because of the orange polo shirt—approaches you as you exit the car.

“[Name]?”

“Hi,” you offer a polite smile.

“I’m Rick, I’m one of Lando’s mechanics, pleasure to meet you,” he introduces.

“Pleasure is all mine, Sir,” you say, dipping your chin into a small bow.

“Come this way,” he beckons. You follow him.

“Did Lando ask you to pick me up?”

“Well, he insisted on picking you up but the race was about to start so we had to force him to stay put in the livery and he wouldn't stay put until we said we’ll pick you up. Said people might flock over you and you don't like it when it happens.”

Your heart warms.

“That's very thoughtful of him. And sweet.”

“That's Lando Norris for you,” he says. “He’s always treating all the people he’s working with kindly. He only has to be polite but he even exerts effort in helping and making our work easier.”

“That's true,” you agree. “I can attest to that, as his fake girlfriend. He only has to treat me well when there's a camera but he’s even going as far as offering friendship.”

The rest of the walk to McLaren was peaceful. Or at least as peaceful as you hope it can be.

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #f1 imagines #fluff #fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #kpop idol! reader

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pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb · 8 months

Text

Torn Apart Pt. 2- The Surgery

I decided to name the fic about the reader losing her arms! Also I found out recently that Law has gold eyes in the manga AND WHY DID THEY CHANGE THAT HOLY FUCCCKKK

Also thank y'all so much for the overwhelming support for this fic!

This chapter is a little shorter than the previous one, but leaves off at a good place!

Just to recap tho...MAJOR WARNING: THIS WILL (probably) TRAUMATIZE YOU. Reader will have PTSD, ANXIETY ATTACKS, AND BE VERBALLY ABUSED. But becomes besties with Franky so ya know... up to you.

TW's: talk of surgery, Luffy being supportive in his own (lecturing) way, descriptions of pain, panic attack and PTSD flashback at the same time (trust me it's not fun), learning to walk again, needles (medical setting)

Golden eyes pierced your faux air of confidence you put on to face the Surgeon of Death. You looked away, almost cowed by his evaluating gaze.

“So? What’s first?” you asked Law. He grunted a little.

“Lay down fully. Let me do a scan.”

You eased yourself down, and Chopper lowered the bed so it was flat. You heard his boots tap on the wood twice as he stepped closer.

“Room”

A blue spherical glow emanated from his palm, encompassing you, the bed and him at the same time, with your prone body in the middle. You swallowed hard, nervous. He unsheathed his sword. You knew from Zoro that all swords had a name, but you didn’t know the name of this one. Probably named it something edgy like “heart killer” or “death of hearts”, you thought to yourself. He hovered his hand down the length of the blade, covering it in a thin sheen of translucent blue before holding his sword above your body. Your eyes traced the metal of the blade, so long that you had to turn your head slightly to see the point reaching far past your shoulder.

“Stay still”, he ordered quietly. You snapped your head back to the original position, looking straight up at the ceiling, taking comfort in the familiar shield and knots in the wood above you.

“Sorry” you whispered. He didn’t say anything in response.

“Scan.”

The sword moved down your body steadily. He really did have the hands of a surgeon. His boots tapped as he shifted his body as his sword scanned yours. He reached your feet, finally lowering his sword, but didn’t release his Room.

“Tra-o” luffy’s voice piped up from the corner where he had been sitting quietly. He was the only one besides Chopper allowed in the room while he worked. His voice was strangely serious, and you couldn’t help but look over at him. His usual smile was replaced with a concerned frown as he met the surgeon’s gaze. Law sighed tiredly before turning back to you.

“You were hurt badly. It’s honestly a miracle you’re still alive.”

You kept your eyes on Luffy, taking comfort from his confident presence.

“I know,” you murmured. A brief silence followed, waiting for Law to continue.

“And you’re still hurting, in your heart.”

You flinched slightly at his words, sliding your shocked gaze to his.

“You can’t possibly know that” you breathed. He met your eyes steadily, unidentified emotion in his eyes.

“My abilities don’t lie,” he answered. You kept looking at him, silent and calculating. You took in his features properly, now seeing him in a relaxed environment and not pissed off at your captain for once. He stood with confidence, slightly slouched as he tucked his hand in the front pocket of his spotted jeans. His other hand held his sword, the blunt side of the blade now resting against his shoulder. His spotted hat was low on his forehead, but as he stood looking down at you, none of his features were shadowed. His sharp eyes were gold, ringed by dark circles and reddened by lack of sleep, but both of those oddly only added to his handsomeness. He had high, sharp cheekbones with sideburns by his double pierced ears and a defined jaw with a goatee. His expression was calm, instead of the usual scowl he wore around your captain. Your eyes traveled to his clothing, a relaxed long sleeve shirt with a low neck that allowed small peeks of his tattoos to show. Honestly, you didn’t know how you didn’t see it earlier. He was fucking hot. Heat rose to your cheeks and he smirked as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. He probably did, the bastard.

“So did you see anything else? Can you do the surgery? Why is her heart hurting? Is it because of Zoro?” Luffy spoke, half demanding and half asking. Law's eyebrow twitched as he remembered your captain was in the room. Chopper was on Luffy’s shoulder, looking at him with wide eyes. At least those two were too innocent to know what happened between you and Law just then. Law turned to Luffy, his usual scowl returning to his face. Tension rose in his shoulders and the blue glow of his Room faded.

“I can do the surgery. It’ll be long, but it’ll be better for everyone, and be better quality. Not that you’re a bad doctor, Chopper-ya.” He spoke mainly to his fellow doctor, and the reindeer nodded.

“I’m less familiar with surgery than you. Let me know what you need!”

Law nodded in approval.

“If I’m doing the surgery, I’d like to do it in the operating room on my ship. I have my crew who are trained as a surgery team, my equipment, and I’ll need you and Franky-ya there too. You’re familiar with the patient and injuries and are able to tell me exactly what you did to treat it. Franky-ya can add his expertise on the machinery and his own body,” he said firmly. Chopper nodded seriously. It was adorable when he was in full doctor mode. Law turned to you.

“That is, if you’ll let me do the surgery.”

He looked at you expectantly, cocking his head as he waited for an answer. You suddenly realized even his voice was hot. You cleared your throat.

“Sure. Got nothing else to lose” you shrugged the best you could, and heat flared to your face a second time, embarrassed at your failed movement. Law only grinned in excitement and was about to respond when Luffy cut him off.

“No.”

You and the two doctors looked at him, shocked. A pang went through your chest. Was he not allowing you? Why? Did you do something wrong? Were you not worth it anymore?

“Mugiwara-ya-“ Law’s growl was cut off by Luffy speaking over him, his eyes meeting yours determinedly.

“You’re not going to do the surgery because you have nothing else to lose. You have everything and everyone else to lose. You have your life, and if you still have that, then you’re still fighting. You’re still winning. You still have something to lose. You have us. Zoro was an asshole and you never have to forgive him for that, but don’t you ever discount our loyalty to you. We are your family, and you're ours. This is your home. Say it. Say you have everything to lose!” He started yelling, and you struggled to sit up. Pain lanced through your chest and shoulders, making you bite your lip to keep from crying out.

“Luffy…” you said softly. He stalked forward, and Chopper jumped off his shoulder. A dominating aura was rolling off your captain. He crawled on your bed, and stopped with his face only inches away from yours.

“Say it.”

Fear and despair shot through your stomach. You were terrified of letting them down, that you already had.

“How can I when I can’t shake on it? When I can’t even reach out to grab your hand when you need it?! I’ve let you down, Luffy. I’ve let you all down!”

Luffy didn’t waver, on his hands and knees straddling over your legs so as to not hurt you. His eyes never left yours, even as he spoke to Law.

“Tra-o. Give us a minute. You too Chopper.” Neither doctor answered, but the door opened and shut, leaving you in silence. You looked down at the blanket pooled on your lap.

“You haven’t let us down, and no matter what Zoro or anyone says, you’re part of my crew. My family. You sacrificed yourself to save someone you love. If I ever needed a hand to grab onto, well, Robin can make more, right? And you’ll have yours back soon. So stop being depressed and say you’ll do the surgery because you want to get better and that you have everything to lose!” He shifted so he was kneeling over you, one hand settling on the back of your neck as he pushed your face into the crook of his neck. Tears welled in your eyes, falling onto his warm skin and wetting his red shirt. His other arm gently wrapped around your side and rested on your back, encompassing you in comfort. It’s the first hug you’ve had since the accident.

“Luffy I’m scared it’ll hurt. I’ve been in so much pain. It hurts so much” you sobbed, unsure if you were talking about your arms or your heart. He shushed you.

“I’ll kick Trao’s ass if he makes it worse, okay?” You nodded, trusting him with your life. You stayed like that for a while, until his shirt was stained with your tears and snot and your thoughts were mostly in order.

“I’ll do it. I want to live. I still have everything to lose” you murmured. Luffy’s hand squeezed the back of your neck briefly in acknowledgement. He pulled back, looking at your face.

“Your face has snot on it” he observed gleefully. You rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Yeah I know.”

His smile died as he brought the blanket to your face to wipe it. He was rough, pulling your skin just a little too hard, but that was your captain, so you didn’t mind.

“Promise me. Promise you want to live and that you’re doing the surgery because you have everything to lose.”

You smiled weakly up at him, but he saw resolve in your eyes.

“I promise.”

He smiled broadly before bringing his forehead down to meet yours. He still kinda bonked his head against yours, and he had a hard head, but he at least tried to be gentle. You giggled.

“This is how we promise now, okay? You and me. No hands or arms necessary.” He spoke quietly, uncharacteristic of his vibrant personality. The words shocked you with his wave of affection and love for you as a family member. You bit your lip to keep tears from welling up.

“Promise” you confirmed. He pulled back, a wide grin on his face.

“Great! I’ll go tell Trao to get ready to do the surgery!”

He bounded off your bed, making you wince at the sudden movement that rocked your body. You sucked in air through your teeth, and Luffy paused, looking back at you guiltily with his big brown eyes.

“Sorry”

You smiled, forgiving him easily.

“It’s okay. I’m due for my pain medication anyways. Can you tell Chopper?” You asked. Luffy nodded with a quick ‘yep!’ thrown over his shoulder as he sprinted out the door. You shook your head at the pure amount of energy that boy had.

Chopper returned a few minutes later and pattered around his work area, making fresh medicine for you.

“We have a good plan for the surgery now! We’re so lucky to have Law with us too! He’s so smart and good at medicine. His Devil Fruit ability is amazing to see in a medical setting!” He continued to blabber on about how excited he was, but you couldn’t shake the nervousness of going into surgery again for something so life-changing after experiencing trauma. A straw and some pills were shoved under your nose, and you opened your mouth to let the doctor pop in the medication and you sipped some water to swallow it. You laid back down, flinching at how sore you were. A groan escaped your lips as your body finally rested on the soft pillow and mattress, waiting for the meds to kick in as you drifted off to sleep.

Your nap wasn’t long, an hour or two at most. A screech from the deck startled you awake as adrenaline pumped through your body. Your shoulders and ribs screamed in white hot agony at the sudden movement as you shot upright, making you groan loudly with pain. I need to cover him. I need to save him. He can’t cut it. He can’t cut an explosion I need to save him I need to save his dream my arms are gone it hurts it hurts it hurts-

The kitchen door opened quickly as you curled up painfully as you started gasping in ragged, quick breaths, barely exhaling before gasping again.

“Hey, hey mon Cherie” Sanji’s deep voice made you alert to his presence, but didn’t distract you enough to snap you out of your panic attack. Hands settled gently on your back and you jerked away, not wanting to be touched by Marines. Not when they took so much from you already.

“I’ll get Franky,” he said quickly. Footsteps disappeared quickly as he swung open the door and ran to find someone. You’d already forgotten who, and the open door was too open. You needed to hide but you couldn’t move. Your breaths were controlling you, burning pain making you whimper. You wanted to hide your head in your arms but they were gone.

Too much it’s too much it hurts hurts hurts I can’t do it I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t do it gone gone they’re gone I can’t they’re gone. I can’t do it again I can’t do it again I can’t do it again.

“Oi” a gravelly voice. You screamed a little as your head whipped around to the sound, fully expecting to be yelled at by Zoro again, maybe he’d hit you this time. Your wild eyes finally focused on Franky, and your tension eased a little, not seeing the swordsman standing above you. Franky blinked steadily at you. He’s safe. He’s good. Good.

“F-f-f-rank-k-ky” you forced out through chattering teeth.

“Hey sis” he replied. He moved his big hand, and you flinched, forcing another groan out of your aching chest.

“I’m going to put an ice pack on the back of your neck, okay? It’ll be really cold but it’ll shock you. Ready?”

At the explanation of his movement, you hesitated a second before nodding slightly once. He slowly moved his hand, which you now noticed contained an ice pack. He slid it against your sweaty neck and held it there. You whimpered at the cold, letting it send gasps through your lungs. He nodded in encouragement at the change in breathing.

“You’re doing so good now. Focus on my voice, okay? I’m going to walk you through a breathing exercise. It’ll come back to you quickly.”

You shook your head. You didn’t need to breathe, you needed to run. To leave. To hide. To be safe.

“Not s-s-safe Frank-k-ky. Need to go. Need to go need to go need to go. Hide from it!” You wanted to grab his wrist, and started panicking when you remembered you couldn’t.

“Hey hey. I’m going to pick you up, okay? Then we’re going to the corner. My metal body is strong and can handle it easily, " he said seriously. You nodded, and let him scoop you up and hold you close to his chest. He was warm, and you could hear an automatic whirring and beating in his chest. It was safer. He walked quickly over to the corner of the room, and knelt down, cradling you in his arms and lap. He curled over you slightly, letting his forehead rest on the wood behind you. You were enclosed and safe and warm.

“See? All safe. All good” his gravely voice was soothing to your racing mind.

Safe. Good.

“He’s safe?” You murmured, blinking up at him. He nodded with a grin.

“He’s perfectly healthy and safe, okay? Now breathe with me. I’m going to walk you through the square breathing. Remember that?”

You felt small and raw, but you did. You remembered it. Franky smiled at your shaky nod.

“Good. Are you ready? Breathe in with me for 1…2…3…4…and hold for 1…2…3…4… and out 1…2…3…4… and hold 1…2…3…4…” you followed his instructions numbly, trusting him completely. He repeated the commands and counting, and your hiccuping breaths eased slowly into smooth ones.

“Relax your muscles. You’re safe. You’re good,” he said quietly. You let your head rest fully on his shoulder, relieving the strain on your injuries. You focused on your toes, relaxing those first before moving up to your ankles, calves, and thighs. You ended by relaxing your abs and back, letting Franky hold your entire weight. He let you rest for a few minutes before you blinked up at him, eyes clear now without your panic.

“What was that?” You murmured into his shirt. Franky soothed a hand over your hair.

“A flashback and panic episode at the same time” he answered quietly. You would’ve shuddered at his answer if you had the energy.

“Am I going crazy?”

“No. It’s a symptom of panic episodes. I’ve been doing research on them” he said gently. You hummed. You were tired of this room.

“Can you take me out of here?”

He stood with your body cradled against him easily.

“Do you want quiet or sun?”

You couldn’t make a decision right now.

“Both” you said instead.

He carried you out of the infirmary, and beelined immediately towards Robin’s flower garden. The smell of the sea and the feel of fresh air felt good, even if you were still emotionally numb. Robin was sitting there, calmly drinking tea as her eyes roamed over the pages of a book. To you, it never looked like she read the normal way, but rather took in parts of sentences all over the page and let them float together in her mind. You nuzzled into Franky’s shoulder, breathing in the fresh air deeply. The floral scent of flowers sweetened the air. Your shaking was stopping.

“It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” Robin greeted. You looked at her, a weak smile on your face.

“It is, especially when you haven’t had fresh air for a while” you answered.

“Mmm” She hummed in agreement. Franky sat you in a chair and took a seat in the one next to you. Sanji appeared and delivered a fresh pot of tea and extra cups before whirling away at Robin’s request for cookies. Franky poured you some tea and placed it in front of you. You sniffed the steam, breathing in a floral combination of chamomile, lavender, and mint, and a touch of cinnamon.

“Ah, it looks like he brought you a different blend than mine. Do you mind if I have a taste?” Robin asked. You shook your head.

“Go ahead.”

She poured a cup and brought it up to sniff before tasting it.

“It seems that Cook-san used the lavender, chamomile, and mint I gave him from my garden” she said appreciatively. You looked down at the tea with new appreciation.

“Shall I?” she said, an arm appearing from your armrest. You swallowed down the frustration at being helpless and nodded, leaning forward slightly. Robin’s arm picked up the teacup and brought it gently to your lips. You blew on it lightly and she tipped it the perfect amount for you to take a sip. The gentle flavors washed over your tongue, soothing your stress. It was sweetened slightly, just as an aftertaste. Sanji really was an amazing chef. You sighed, finally relaxing. Comfortable silence enveloped the three of you for a while, Franky taking a cola out of his stomach refrigerator and sipping on it. Robin seemed to have muscle memory from drinking so much tea that she hardly needed any focus to raise your cup to your lips and back down to the saucer. You reveled in the silence, because it was different from the silence of the infirmary. This silence was accompanied by the waves, footsteps, the breeze rustling the leaves of the garden and Nami’s orange trees. Voices of Nami, Chopper, and Usopp were all heard wafting back and forth, with the occasional annoyed grunt from Law. You looked back at your companions after soaking in the sun on your face for a minute.

“Where’s Law’s crew?” you questioned.

Robin answered cryptically first.

“Maybe they were swallowed by a giant electric eel and Law is waiting for them to emerge from the other end before meeting up with them again” she said without looking up from her book. You blinked at her before breaking out into peals of giggles that were hurting your ribs.

“Ow ow ow Robin stop making me laugh! It makes my ribs hurt!”

Franky snorted at Robin’s answer.

“He probably didn’t want them exposed to our ‘stupid mugiwara antics’” he imitated Law in the last bit, schooling his face into a stern scowl. You couldn’t help your giggles, and Robin laughed with you. The afternoon brought you joy and comfort, Sanji joining you briefly between his kitchen chores as he smoked. Usopp and Luffy joined before going off to fish and then coming back hours later to fetch Sanji, interrupting his dramatics towards you and Robin. It made you feel normal.

Normal.

You yawned, exhausted from being outside. You went to stand before an ache in your chest brought you back to reality. Franky saw your flinch and the clench of your jaw.

“Wanna go take a nap?” he asked. You nodded. He went to pick you up, but you shook your head.

“I want to try walking.”

Franky smiled gently.

“Just let me call Law up here. I think he mentioned something about wanting to see how walked earlier.”

Franky called Law’s name, the shouted ‘Tra-o’ making the surgeon look over his shoulder from gazing at the waves with his signature scowl. Franky pointed to you and told him you wanted to try walking. Law’s expression eased slightly, becoming more clinical than pissed off. He quickly approached your little group, his sword slung casually over his shoulder. Luffy raced over at the announcement.

You swallowed nervously at Law’s swagger towards you, looking away as your heart fluttered. His boots tapped on the wood planks until he stood in front of you, hip cocked to the side and free hand tucked in his pocket. He lowered his sword, placing it flat on the ground in the free space near the table.

“I’ll use my abilities. If you start to fall, I’ll switch you with my sword, okay?”

You nodded. Franky and Robin looked on curiously. Luffy hummed in understanding.

“Good. Now start by standing. Brace your feet apart so you have more balance” the doctor instructed. You slid your feet apart by opening your knees, and a brief picture of spreading your legs in a different scenario with the doctor flashed in your mind.

“Good.”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the praise in his deep voice, before a spear of guilt at your infatuation killed them. You breathed deeply, clearing your mind of your thoughts.

“Room.”

The blue dome enveloped you and your group. You noticed it also reached the infirmary.

“Why not just switch me to the bed if I start to fall?” you asked. Law blinked at you.

“Figured you’d want to be outside longer but I can do that instead” he offered. You nodded, yawning. Law picked up his sword, and leaned it against his shoulder again.

“Now try standing.”

You shifted your weight slowly onto your feet, managing to rise to a standing position. Law hummed.

“Walk.”

You shuffled forward a little, adjusting to your shift in weight and balance. You stopped, looking at the doctor. He nodded once. You swallowed nervously at the thought of walking again, but slowly shifted your weight to one foot as the other took a full step forward. You pushed off your other foot, letting your weight shift onto the one you had just stepped forward with. Your back foot swung forward, and landed easily. You looked up with a smile, meeting Luffy’s excited grin. Eagerly, you pushed forward, but ended up pushing forward too quickly, and you couldn’t get your other foot under you in time. Your shoulders ached horribly as the healing muscles twitched at your instinct to use your arms for balance, and the pain swept your sense of balance away.

“Shambles”

Tears pricked your eyes in frustration and pain, your jaw clenched against the current of them both. Your chest wanted to rise as your body writhed with the pain, but doing so only made your cracked ribs scream at you.

“Fuck!” you shouted instead. You were on the bed in the infirmary, alone. The door slammed open, revealing Law holding the blanket to your bed. You looked at him, tears blurring your eyes. He walked over quickly, dropping the blanket at your feet. You heard more footsteps come into the infirmary, and you grew mortified at your weakness.

“Everyone out!” He ordered. You looked at him, finally managing to gasp in some shaky breaths. You distantly heard footsteps retreat and the door close. His golden eyes looked down at you, concern raging behind his cold exterior.

“Room. Scan” He wielded his powers with ease, his sword moving through the air over your chest and shoulders. You tried to stay still, but it was impossible as the pain lanced through you. The surgeon sucked his teeth and put his sword away.

“Your wounds didn’t get worse. Let's get you some medication,” he said. He stepped to the door, and called for Chopper. The small reindeer trotted in, immediately going to his desk to mix up a strong pain medication. You whimpered, closing your eyes as your mind began to spiral.

“Oi. Look at me,” Law demanded. You opened your eyes, bringing them up to look into his golden eyes. He wiped your years off your cheek, and placed his arm at the head of your bed, leaning his weight on it as he bent over you.

“A broken body doesn’t mean you’re broken. You’ll heal, and I’m going to help you.”

You sniffled.

“I’m scared. It hurts so much” you mumbled, keeping your gaze on his.

“I know, I know. It’ll be okay soon though” he brought his forehead down to yours, bringing your focus to the point of contact. It was soothing. His other hand cradled your jaw, and he pulled back as he moved his hand on your head to stroke his thumb gently over your eyebrow repeatedly. It was oddly soothing, and you found your breath quickly returning. You closed your eyes as your body began to relax, starting to ease the pain.

“There, see? I know it’s scary, but you have everything to live for',' he murmured. Law slowly pulled back further, letting Chopper move forward with your medicine that he had dissolved in a cup of water. You scrunched your nose at the bitter smell, knowing it would taste awful. You looked at Law for a second, and he gave you a nod of encouragement. You sighed, and parted your lips so Chopper could angle the cup in your mouth. You groaned at the taste, hating the bitterness and saltiness of the medicine. It was different from what he had given you previously. You pulled back for a breath and gagged a little.

“Just one more drink!” the tiny doctor encouraged. You groaned, and unwillingly parted your lips again. The final gulp was gritty and worse than before, and you pulled away with a gag, yelping as your aching shoulder fired with renewed burning as you tried to slap a hand over your mouth to stop the gag. A straw was shoved into your mouth, Chopper informing you it was water quickly before you spat it out. You sucked it down gratefully, coming back to yourself. You noticed a warm hand on your back, between your shoulder blades, propping you up. You hadn’t even noticed you moved. Once you drained the cup, you looked to your side, realizing it was Law holding you up with a disguised look of pity on his face.

“Never give me that shit again Chopper or I’ll kick your ass” you moaned. You suddenly felt woozy. Was the world spinning? Were you floating? You blinked once, before your eyelids lowered slowly one more time.

Apparently you slept all the way through the night, waking early the next morning before the sun rose.

“Good morning!” Chopper greeted you with a smile. You smiled back at him before registering what he said.

“Morning?”

He gave you an affirmative nod.

“Yep! You slept all the way through the night. It’s about 5am now,” he informed you. You groaned. You were hungry.

“Can I get some food?”

Chopper looked at you a little sheepishly.

“N-no. See, with your surgery today, it's best if you don’t have food before the anesthesia.”

A punch of anxiety speared through your gut, and you sighed shakily.

“...right. So Law’s crew is here?”

The reindeer nodded. You took a deep breath.

“Okay. Let’s do this. I have everything to live for” you murmured. Footsteps echoed outside your door, coming closer. A quiet knock rapped three times before Law poked his head in the open door. Once he saw you were awake, he entered the room fully.

“You’re awake.”

You nodded, swallowing down your nervousness at his presence. Not only was he incredibly good looking, but he was also the one going to do your surgery. If he was here, the crew must almost be ready for you.

“I came to transport you to my ship.”

You nodded again.

“Are you ready to do… it?” you asked, a wobble in your voice. The captain nodded with his arms crossed. He seemed more professional now, like he was in the mindset of a surgeon. He knew you were referring to the surgery, not the transportation part.

“Almost. We’ve set up everything and we just need the patient to continue.”

You looked over at Chopper nervously. He gave you a smile and what could be considered a thumbs up with his tiny hoof. It made you smile.

“And you’ll be there too?” you asked the reindeer. He trotted up to your bed and pulled himself on the mattress with a little grunt.

“Of course! And Franky will be there too!” he assured you with a pat on your knee. You breathed an anxious sigh, ready for this whole thing to be over. You looked at Law.

“Luffy is going to kick your ass if you hurt or kill me” you threatened. It made you feel like at least something was in your control. The surgeon rolled his eyes.

“One, I’ve heard that from everyone on this crew, and two, you have the best experts on the Grand Line doing your surgery. You have nothing to worry about. Now let’s go,” he held out his hand in preparation for his powers.

“Room.”

“Wait! What about Franky?” you said quickly. Chopper answered for the surgeon.

“He’s already on the Polar Tang, and has been familiarizing Law’s crew with the bionic arms he made,” he said soothingly. You nodded, and squeezed your eyes shut.

“Okay I’m ready.”

“Shambles.”

You felt weightless for a second before suddenly laying on a hard, cold surface. You sucked in a breath as the cold touched the back of your neck.

“You okay?” Chopper hovered over you cautiously. You nodded with a smile.

“Fuckin hell Law, do you keep these tables in a freezer or something?” A shiver went through you as the cold seeped past your thin pajamas.

“You won’t feel the cold soon enough once you’re drugged up. Stop complaining,” He answered curtly, and you couldn’t help how he talked to you a little differently when he was in front of his crew.

“Captain!” a high pitched voice admonished. You looked over and met the eyes of a talking polar bear, fully geared up with a mask, scrubs, and rubber gloves. You smiled, recognizing him as Bepo from Law’s brief mentions of his crew. He met your eyes, concerned.

“I know the table is cold. Would you like a heated blanket?” he held up the blanket, and you nodded, shivering a little more. The bear tucked the blanket around you with the help of Chopper, who had transformed into his more human form. Two more of Law’s crew members stood at the foot of the table, with Franky’s smiling figure hulking above them.

“Hey big bro” you greeted the cyborg. He grinned back.

“Yo! Are ya ready to have my suuuuuperrrrrr Franky arms? We’ll be kinda matching!”

His enthusiasm calmed you enough to make you giggle. Determination lit in your soul with his support.

“I’m ready,” you answered. You relaxed down on the hard table, controlling your breath and turning your head so the doctors had access to your jugular vein for the IV. A gloved hand gently wiped down the area before Franky placed a hand on your cheek, reminding you of his presence and affection.

“Okay. Get ready for the poke” Chopper said. You nodded stiffly, feeling your body tense in preparation for the needle. Franky put a finger on your chin, and tilted your head to the opposite side, and you opened your eyes in confusion. Your body began to relax seeing his grinning face, and you felt the brief sting of the needle before it was taped into place.

“I’ll give the medicine now. It’ll make you woozy and sleepy, but remember you're safe, okay?” Chopper’s voice came from the other side of the bed, and you looked over at him with a nervous smile. Law was standing behind him, his golden eyes meeting yours as a small smile twitched on his lips.

“Remember what I said about Luffy,” I reminded him. Law scoffed.

“As if I would ever harm a patient.”

You nodded at Chopper, and he began pressing the plunger on the syringe. You tasted an odd, metallic taste in your mouth and you smacked your lips, looking at the doctor curiously.

“Some people can taste it” Law answered for Chopper. As soon as he said it, you felt a wave of dizzy exhaustion crash over your body, and you grunted a little, blinking hard and trying to focus your eyes.

“Relax, we got ya” Franky’s gravely voice was the last thing you heard before you let sleep overtake you again.

To those who asked to be tagged: @blue-rae18, @perilous-pasta

#one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece fluff #zoro x reader #zoro x you #one piece #robin one piece #one piece sanji #sanji fluff #straw hat luffy #monkey d. luffy #one piece luffy #strawhats #straw hat pirates #heart pirates #trafalgar law fluff #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law #one piece law

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nanawritesit · 10 months

Text

Your Highness - Sanji x Reader: Part Two

PART ONE PART THREE

plot: you’re a runaway princess bride who finds her way into the straw hat crew. you expected one hell of an adventure, but you never expected to fall for the head chef. things get even more complicated when your father, the king, and your ex-fiancé send their troops after the going merry. now you must choose between surrendering to save your crew and being with the only man you’ve ever truly loved. but of course, the straw hat crew isn’t going to let you go without a fight. especially sanji.

—————

It was half past seven. The sunset was just beginning to pour through the windows on the sides of the ship, but you hardly noticed. All you were focused on was the clank of your sword against Zoro’s, and where you were going to place your feet next.

You began to notice that a sword fight was kind of like a dance. The two of you moved in perfect rhythm, twirling around the floor of the cabin and brandishing your weapons towards one another.

Thinking you were gaining some high ground, you jumped up on the counter. However your balance was off, and Zoro easily took your legs out from under you, causing you to flop down flat onto the counter. He held the blade of his sword against your neck, looking at you with a sympathetic smirk.

You simply rolled your eyes and sighed. “I can’t believe I lost again.”

He removed the blade from your neck and sheathed it back in its holder around his waist. “Maybe, but that’s the longest you’ve ever lasted sparring with me. And I don’t even have to hold back anymore.”

You straightened yourself up, holding your hands in your lap and slumping your shoulders defeatedly. “Yeah, but I’m still not very good at this.”

Zoro looked at you with an annoyed glare. “Don’t be stupid. You have great natural talent and raw strength.”

“Well, my father was revered as one of the best swordsmans of his time. Although, he’s nothing compared to you.”

He tried to fight the half smile that was creeping it’s way onto his expression. “Well anyway,” he coughed awkwardly, “stuff like this just takes practice. You’ve only been at this for a couple months now. So don’t beat yourself up too bad. The important thing is you can hold your own in a fight now.”

You winced. You still hadn’t actually fought anyone yet. You’d been sparring with Zoro for a little while now, but he was still the only one you’d ever fought. You didn’t quite now how you would fare in an actual brawl. The thought of attacking someone frightened you. You were about to vocalize your concerns, but were interrupted by the sound of footsteps pounding down the stairs.

“Zoro, may I please have my princess back now?” Sanji whined as he descended the staircase.

“Whatever.” Zoro rolled his eyes, pushing past Sanji to walk upstairs.

“I’ll never understand why you two don’t get along.” you chuckled, wrapping your arms around Sanji’s neck.

“He’s just jealous that there’s another handsome fighter on the crew.” Sanji mused, placing his own arms around your waist. “And that I have a beautiful princess in love with me.” He leaned down to peck your lips, and you met him halfway in a sweet kiss. “We’re almost to the village, love.”

“Okay, I’ll be up in a second. I just want to practice a couple more moves.” you responded.

He sighed and pouted his lips. “My dear, I think you’ve practiced enough today. I don’t need my girl getting all worn out. It’s not good for you.”

You gave him a sympathetic smile. “That’s very sweet Sanji, but if I’m ever going to be a good swordsman, I’ve got to practice as much as possible.”

“Fine…” he huffed, throwing his arms up defeatedly. “But don’t expect another massage from me tonight, I tried to warn you.”

—————

Once the crew had gathered all their supplies, you were all wandering the village square looking for either a place to lodge or a place to eat.

“It looks like we’re only going to be able to afford one of those.” Nami sighed, counting the rest of your guys’ money. “We sold Y/N’s last piece of jewelry to get us these supplies, and there wasn’t much leftover.”

Luffy suddenly sniffed the air and began running off wherever his nose was leading him. He finally stopped in front of a pub that looked like it had an inn upstairs. “Here.” he instructed.

“Luffy, we don’t-“ Nami tried to protest, but the captain was already bursting through the front doors. You all reluctantly followed him in, just to see him already bargaining with the owner at his podium.

“Come on, sir. We’ll pay for our rooms and then I’ll give you an IOU for dinner. I’m going to be king of the pirates one day, so I’ll be sure to pay you back.” Luffy suggested with an innocent smile.

“God, you never learn, do you, captain?” Sanji grumbled, rubbing his brow frustratedly.

“We do not accept IOUs as payment.” the owner huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can get you three bedrooms, but that’s all, unless you can find some other way to pay for dinner.”

You all looked at each other worriedly. You had to eat, there was no way of getting back to the ship until tomorrow morning.

Suddenly, a nervous looking waiter approached the owner. “Sir, the guests are growing restless without any live singing.”

“Give them all a free dessert.” the owner suggested, trying to wave him off to go back to your conversation.

“I already did sir.” the waiter mumbled anxiously. “They said that the band is great, but it really would be better with a singer.”

The owner sighed. “Well, I don’t know what to tell them. Dahlia quit on us last night, and haven’t found another-“

“Excuse me, gentlemen…” Sanji interrupted their conversation, making all of you stare at him curiously, “But am I to understand that you’re in need of a live singer?”

The owner nodded disappointedly. “Yes, we are.”

“Well here’s your singer right here!” Sanji clapped his hands on your shoulders and jutted you forward.

“Sanji, no!” you protested, turning around to hide your face. He just flipped you back around and brandished you to the owner.

“She has the most beautiful voice. I’ve heard her sing, it’s like a choir of angels.” Sanji went on, beaming proudly as he boasted about your talents.

The owner looked you over, then shrugged. “Alright. I’m desperate. If you can sing for our pub tonight, I’ll give you and all of your party free dinners.”

Your crew members all looked at you pleadingly. You could tell they were all as starving as you were, and couldn’t stand to see the hunger in their eyes. You looked over at Sanji. His icy blue eyes were swimming with confidence and sincerity. He gave you a nod.

“Alright. I’ll do it.” you agreed, squinting your eyes shut. The crew all erupted in applause for you, besides Zoro, who just looked up the ceiling in relief.

“Wonderful.” the owner mused, flashing a pleased smile at you. “You’ll have to change clothes, but other than that, you’re good to go. You’re so beautiful that I’m sure the audience will love you, even if you’re not that good at singing.”

You chuckled awkwardly. You heard Sanji click his tongue out of jealousy next to you.

“Well she is an amazing singer, so that won’t be a possibility.” Sanji refuted. He was smiling, but his eyes were shooting daggers at the man. “Could you show us where she can get ready? I’d like to accompany her.” You could tell he meant to say there’s no way he was letting this guy take you somewhere alone.

You just pressed your lips together to avoid smiling at how cute he was when he was jealous.

Only a few minutes later, you were being ushered on stage in a dress that wasn’t yours, and all eyes were on you.

You looked like a deer in the headlights, wide eyes shifting over all the members of the audience. You were at a loss for words. No one had ever given you permission to speak in front of a crowd. You finally saw the straw hat crew sitting at a table towards the back. They were all smiling encouragingly, none more so than Sanji. You looked at him for direction, to which he just gave you a small nod. “You’ve got this, your highness.” he mouthed.

He was right. You were a princess. You could do this. You swallowed the hard lump in your throat and cleared it, stepping forward with grace and nobility. “Good evening, patrons of the pub… You’re probably all used to a different singer, but due to some unforeseen circumstances, I’ll be filling in for you guys tonight.” You turned around and nodded to the band, who began playing your first song.

You bobbed your head to the beat, waiting for your cue. Everyone seemed intrigued and focused on you. Luckily, no one looked malicious or judgemental. Finally, you took a breath and began singing, the sound of your voice filling up the quiet room and bouncing off the walls.

As the song went on, and you got to showcase some of your most powerful notes, you received a couple impressed cheers from the audience. You smiled, gaining confidence, and got more into your performance.

Suddenly, your eyes locked in on Sanji’s. The way he was looking at you gave you chills. His eyes were sparkling with admiration and love, and his fingers rubbed loosely against his lips in an effort to contain the proud, enormous grin on his face. His smile was so wide it looked like it would break his face. No one had ever looked at you like that. And as your song ended, you felt as if you were the only two people in the pub.

You were snapped out of your trance by the entire pub getting to their feet and applauding you, happily giving you a standing ovation. You giggled excitedly and did a small curtesy, accepting their praise. You waved back to the crew, who looked so proud of their princess. Sanji looked like he was about to cry. You blew a kiss to him, making him laugh heartily.

You went on performing for another half hour, until the owner came out on stage between songs.

“Alright everyone, give it up for tonight’s singer!” he boomed, leading the crowd in applause. “We’re gonna give her a break, but she’ll be back soon!” You waved goodbye to everyone as he ushered you to your table with the rest of the crew.

“That was amazing. Your voice is just as beautiful as you are.” the owner smirked, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear as you sat in your seat.

You shuddered uncomfortably, glancing at Sanji nervously. He cleared his throat to settle the anger boiling beneath his calm exterior, then resumed a playful expression.

“Mr. Owner. While I’m very grateful for the arrangement we’ve made, I’m going to have to ask you to keep your hands off Miss Y/N. Otherwise, there will be consequences.” he hissed, a dangerous smirk slithering onto his face.

The owner backed away, clearly threatened, although obviously annoyed. “Understood. I’ll go check on your dinners.” He then sauntered off into the kitchen, leaving you to your crew, who all began praising you in unison.

“That was incredible, Y/N!” Nami beamed, shaking your arm lightly.

“Yeah seriously, you could be a professional!” Luffy grinned.

“We’re gonna have you sing everytime we go somewhere! We’ll never have to pay for dinner again!” Ussop cheered, patting you on the shoulder.

“That was really good.” Zoro said flatly. However, there was a look of genuine admiration in his eyes that let you know he meant it.

“Thanks guys…” you replied bashfully. “At first. I was so nervous I thought I was going to pass out. But once I started singing, I just kind of blacked out and went for it!”

“Well, you did a wonderful job, just as I told you you would.” Sanji praised, taking your hand in his. “You were brilliant, your highness.”

You blushed with a warm smile, not knowing what to say. However, you didn’t have to say anything, because the chefs began bringing your food and drinks to your table and setting them in front of you.

Luffy stood up, raising his mug in the air. “To the princess of the Going Merry!”

“To the princess of the Going Merry!” your crew all cheered, clinking their glasses together in a toast.

You all began devouring the plates of food in front of you. While the owner was smarmy and gross, he at least didn’t skimp on the portions. You were all lost in a spirited conversation when a jovial looking older man approached you.

“Excuse me miss, I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner…” he began, an interested glint in his eyes, “But I just had to tell you what an amazing performance you just gave!”

You smiled back at him, bowing your head gratefully. “Thank you, sir!”

“And how pretty you are!” he complimented. “Has anyone ever told you that you look strikingly similar to the eldest princess of Dacovia?”

Your heart sunk. It felt like this man just punched you in the stomach, and now you were falling down a deep, dark well. For months, no one had even mentioned Dacovia to you. Now, here was the stark reminder of the life you had left behind.

“No sir, unfortunately I’ve never been to Dacovia.” you coughed nervously, eyes darting away from him.

“Really? How funny. Well, enjoy your dinner, miss!” he finished, walking back to his table.

You looked at the rest of the crew, who had the same look of panic on their faces as you did. You all sat there in silence for a moment, no one wanting to be the first one to break it.

“It’s okay.” Luffy finally spoke quietly, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. “It’s just a coincidence.”

“We don’t know that.” you huffed, leaning forward as to make sure no one heard. “What if he’s a spy for my father?”

“We’re pretty far from Dacovia now, Y/N…” Nami tried to comfort you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You don’t know my father.” you retorted, shaking your head. “He sees me as his property. And if he wanted to, he’d stop at nothing to bring me back to Dacovia to resume my role as his pawn.”

“We’re not going to let that happen, okay?” Sanji reassured you, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand. You looked into his eyes. The pale shade of cornflower calmed you instantly, causing you to release the tension in your muscles.

“He’s right.” Zoro stated. You all turned to him with a shocked expression. “What?” he asked.

“I can’t believe you just agreed with Sanji.” Ussop chuckled, causing the rest of you to erupt with laughter.

Zoro just rolled his eyes and took another swig from his mug. “Well, it’s true. We’re going to fight to keep Y/N on our crew, right?”

“Of course we are.” Luffy replied, trying to stifle his chuckles. He then looked to you with a smile. “You’re our princess after all.”

You smiled appreciatively, tears welling up in your eyes. Maybe it was foolish to believe them, but you couldn’t help it. You truly loved all of them so much that it was hard to picture leaving them without a fight. Then again, you still had yet to be in an actual fight, which you were still harboring anxiety about.

“Just remain calm and finish your performance tonight. Sanji instructed, ruffling your hair slightly. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning, just to cover our tracks.”

You nodded, going back to your plate. “Sure. Just let me finish my dinner first. Although, it’s not as good as anything you could’ve made.” you grinned cheerfully.

—————

Around midnight, you were finally curled up in a warm bed, something you had forgotten the feeling of after all your time at sea. Sanji shuffled next to you, both of you now staring up at the ceiling. The two of you decided to share a room, as you were now an item. Nami and Zoro decided they would sleep better with each other than with the talkative Luffy or Ussop, and stuck the two of them together.

“I should not have said your name.” Sanji suddenly stated regretfully.

You turned your head to face him. “What do you mean?”

“When the owner was putting his filthy hands on you.” he sneered. “I called you by your name. It was dangerous of me to act on my jealousy.”

You clicked your tongue dismissively, rolling back in place. “It’s fine. The whole crew did a toast to ‘the princess of the Going Merry.’ I’m sure everyone heard that better than you saying my name.”

“Yes, but I’m the one who suggested you sing tonight.” he grumbled, placing his hands over his eyes to rub them frustratedly. “It wasn’t smart to draw all that attention to you either.”

“Sanji, we needed to eat. I could feel my stomach beginning to digest itself.” you chuckled, rolling over to prop your elbow up and look at him. You removed his hands from his eyes, prompting him to look up at you. “This isn’t all on you, love.”

He sighed, flashing you a grateful half smile. “I just can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” you told him, brushing back the blonde strands of hair that flopped over his forehead. “I promise.” You leaned down to kiss him tenderly, connecting your lips and deepening it slightly before slowly pulling away. “Now, let’s get some sleep. We have to leave early tomorrow.”

“Alright…” he agreed, shuffling back to his sleeping position. “Goodnight, your highness.”

“Goodnight, Sanji.” you replied, curling up against your pillow.

As you tried to drift off to sleep, you began thinking too much about the situation. It was easy to make a promise to Sanji when he was worried, but would you really be able to keep it? What if your father was trying to find you? If he did, he would certainly be able to get people to bend to his will. He ruled with an iron fist, and was relentless in his conquests. Should he attack the crew, you didn’t know how well they would fare. It wasn’t that you questioned the crew’s abilities. You had watched them take down the marines like they were just a bunch of kids on the playground, and Luffy was made of rubber for god’s sake. It was just that you knew how powerful your father was. And you didn’t know if he would show any mercy.

You glanced over at Sanji next to you. It looked like he was already fast asleep. Your eyes welled with tears as you pictured him getting hurt, or worse. You leaned over and kissed his forehead gently.

“I promise to keep you safe, Sanji. Whatever it takes.”

—————

Just as Sanji had proposed, you had all left so early the next morning that the roosters weren’t even crowing yet. You docked ship as soon as you could and set back off onto the seas.

Everyone was a little bit on edge, constantly checking to see if you were being followed. Zoro had insisted on doubling down in your training, pushing you as hard as you could go. You were a little exhausted, but still grateful that he was teaching you how to fight.

Sanji was a nervous wreck. He wouldn’t leave your side for a moment, whenever you weren’t training that is. He had also insisted on moving you into his bedroom so he could protect you if something happened in the middle of the night. His cooking even tasted different. You hated seeing him like this. You wished more than anything that things could just go back to the way they were a few days ago.

As time passed, the crew began to relax a bit. All except for Sanji. He only seemed to get more anxious, more protective. It wasn’t like him to not be playful and optimistic. You started to wonder if being with you was really good for him…

The day things changed was about a week after you had left the small village with the pub. You were sitting on the deck floor with Sanji, playing a card game with him while he smoked a cigarette. It seemed to be the only thing that would calm him down lately. Nami was in the crow’s nest, and Zoro and Luffy were looking off the starboard at the ocean.

“Guys!” Ussop exclaimed from his place at the bow of the ship. “There’s a huge ship coming towards us!”

You all sprinted over to where he was standing to see it for yourselves. You gasped at the enormous boat looming over in the distance. It literally looked as if it could swallow the Going Merry whole. The bow was lined with several canons and countless soldiers looking down the barrels of their guns at you.

Panic sunk into the crew all at once. You all began scurrying around for your weapons, jumping into each other and fumbling around on the deck.

“Y/N!” Zoro called, making you turn around. He unsheathed one of his swords and tossed it to you. You caught it in the air, gripping the handle firmly. As you studied the blade, you wondered how it would feel to use it against somebody. It made your stomach turn. You glanced around at the crew, who was all standing at the ready. Luffy stood protectively in front of everyone, ready to absorb any ammo that was thrown your way.

“Attention pirates!” a deep voice bellowed from the opposing ship as it approached you. You froze as you glanced up at the speaker. It was your father, right there in front of you. “By order of the royal family of Dacovia, we command you to return the princess at once! If you do not, we will release fire!”

“How did you even find me, father?” you screeched, a deep rage boiling over the brim of your heart, threatening to explode out of your chest.

“You left us a little clue, my dear fiancée.” a new voice boasted smugly. You immediately recognized it as your former fiancé’s, the prince’s. He suddenly appeared next to your father, dangling a white heeled shoe by his finger.

You gasped. Of course. They found the shoe you lost by the docks before you boarded the Going Merry.

“And it was easy to bargain with a disgruntled small village pub owner. We showed him the smallest amount of gold and he immediately told us where you were.” The prince bragged gleefully. “Your boyfriend shouldn’t have been so jealous.”

Your father held up a hand to silence him. “This is your last chance, daughter. Surrender yourself to me now, and I won’t have to kill all your little friends.”

“We’ll never give her to you!” Sanji bellowed from his place next to you. You gulped, glancing over at him. You had never seen him look so dangerous. Almost like… he was willing to die for you. You looked around at the rest of the crew, and realized they all had that same look in their eyes. It was the same one you noticed when you first met them. The passionate determination they all had to achieve their dreams. You winced as you thought about losing them, about being the reason they never got to achieve their goals. You couldn’t bear it a second longer.

“Alright, have it your way.” your father sneered, motioning to his troops. “Soldiers! Prepare to attack!” They all stood at attention. “Ready! Aim…”

“Stop!” you screamed from the bottom of your stomach. It was so loud that even your father jumped.

He leaned forward expectantly. “Yes, daughter?”

“I’ll go with you.” you croaked, angry tears spilling from your eyes. “But you must promise to never hurt them.”

“You have my honor as a king.” he swore, brandishing his King’s ring at you as a sign of his honesty. You nodded reluctantly, and he motioned for the troops to extend the platform for you to board his ship.

“No, no, no, you can’t do this Y/N, please…” Sanji pleaded, desperately gripping onto your shoulders as if you were going to disintegrate out of his grasp. Tears were trickling down from his eyes as well. “Please, don’t go…”

You choked down the sharp sob that threatened to erupt from your throat. “Sanji, listen to me…”

“No! I don’t want to, because I know what you’re going to say.” he cried, grabbing your face and pressing his forehead against yours.

You took his hands in yours, holding them to your chest. “Sanji, I’m not good for you. I’ve been destroying you for the past week. And if I lead you to your death… I’d never forgive myself.” you sniffled, glancing down at the ground.

He shook his head, squinting his eyes. “You promised. You promised me you weren’t going anywhere.” He dropped his head into your neck and began sobbing into it. It absolutely broke your heart what you had to do, but you loved him too much not to do it.

You tilted his head up to look him in the eye, giving him a pathetic smile. “Sometimes you have to break promises to protect those you care about.” You then leaned in and gave him one last passionate kiss, letting him now how irrevocably in love with him you were despite what you were doing. “Goodbye, Sanji.”

You let him go, allowing him to fall to his knees on the deck. The rest of the crew rushed to him in an attempt to comfort him, except Luffy. He was looking at you with so much sadness that it made you want to jump into the ocean and drown.

You gave him a tiny wave and a teary smile. “Thank you for making me your princess, captain. But I have to go now. Come visit Dacovia when you’re king of the pirates.”

And with that, you ascended the platform onto your fathers’ ship, sailing back to your home country. You knew exactly what awaited you when you returned. Another wedding. And this time, your father would make sure you couldn’t run away.

—————

a/n:

hi everyone! thank you so much for the amazing response to part one :) i’m so happy it’s doing so well! i was planning on ending the series in this part but it just ended up being so long that i decided to end it here for this part. i’m sorry it’s so angsty but i PROMISE there will be a happy ending in the next part! i should be posting it very soon. i LOVE this story and can’t wait to finish it :)

TAGS:

@genshingeeksworld @gg-trini

#sanji scenarios #sanji fluff #sanji angst #sanji imagine #sanji fanfic #opla sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #opla x reader #opla fanfiction #sanji

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maxybabyy · 9 months

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soooo ... about that frat bros maxiel post @arturleclerc got

Someone joins him by the staircase, but Daniel doesn’t move, keep his eyes on the beer pong match in front of him. There’s a huff, a scruff of their shoe against the sticky floor before they say, “Are you Daniel?”

Daniel hums, sips his beer. Scotty makes another great shot, sinks the ball into the same cup as the previous shot, so Daniel lets out a cheer, quickly echoed by the rest of the room. “To some, maybe,” he says to the guy, takes another sip before he turns to look at him.

The guy in front of him is young, obviously a freshman. There’s a plastic band around his wrist, bright red like one of the fucking, ‘I’m under 21, don’t serve me alcohol’ bracelets the faculty has been trying to introduce. He reckons they don’t really work, watches as the guy sucks down a third of his cup, the stench of tub juice obvious even from a few feet away.

“This is of course not an answer,” the guy says, thick lips soured into a hard line. “So stupid this, will you just tell me?”

“Yeah, alright, pretty boy,” Daniel says. He watches the flush spread over the kid’s cheeks, the wrinkle of his nose before he leans into it too, lips spread wide in a grin “’s a pleasure to meet you, what can I do for you?”

The smile transforms his entire look, softens the sharp angles of his face. He had been handsome before, awkward hot, but now he looks downright pretty. The white tee he wears sits tight on his chest, the peaks of his nipples obvious through the thin fabric. He smells like axe body spray and generic cologne, but Daniel’s fucked enough frat dudes to find it arousing.

His name is Max, and he is a freshman, pre-med like he too is going to save the world.

Daniel brushes his hand against the dip of his waist, lingers when Max doesn’t pull away. Max is taller than him, just a tad, but he fits himself under Daniel’s arm easily, shoulders loose as he talks about the lacrosse team he wants to join, the scholarship he’s expected to get.

“You want another drink, babe?” Daniel asks, watches spellbound as Max mimics the hold of his lacrosse stick, how he has to adjust his hands to make sure his grip is tight, firm against the racket. “Think Scotty has some gin in his room if you want a drink or like –“

Max nods, bites into his bottom lip with flat teeth. “Yes, this would of course be very lovely, Daniel,” he says, chokes on his breath when Daniel slips a hand into the pocket of his shorts to lead him upstairs.

Blake doesn’t have any gin, so he offers Max a shot of the whisky he saves for special occasions. Max doesn’t care, downs the shot and lets Daniel suck the alcohol off his tongue. Daniel holds him by the waist, sweaty palms on sweaty skin, and feels him tremble in his arms, wants desperately to make him lose it.

“You like that, yeah?” Daniel says, taunts, pushes the tip of his thumb in between his lips. Max moans, sucks the finger in between sharp teeth, mouth begging for more as Daniel stuffs another two into it. “You want it?”

Max nods, and his mouth feels silky around Daniel’s fingers, hot and wet. He goes down easy when Daniel nudges him to his knees, fingers falling from his mouth to cradle the curve of his head. His hat lies abandoned on the floor, exposing strands of dirty blonde hair, and Daniel cannot help but tug at it.

Max looks obscene on the floor, strong thighs spread wide forcing his shorts into the crease of his groin. His dick strains against the fabric, hard and untouched.

“Can I, please?” Max begs, nudges his face against Daniel’s dick, hard inside his jeans, and how could anyone say no to that?

Max swallows him down quick, jaw loose and open as he fucks into him slowly, carefully, until he reaches the back of his throat. Daniel feels it more than he hears it when Max groans, clammy hands gripping the insides of his thighs to keep himself steady.

“You’re doing so good for me, babe, taking me so well,” Daniel hums as he thrusts into his mouth, feels how his throat spasms around him. He’s close, almost there, a quick snap of his hips makes Max choke, and that’s it. He pulls out, nudges Max’s head to the side to finish into his own hand, curses himself for not letting him know sooner.

“Fuck,” he groans as his head knocks back against the door, eyes screwed shut as he tries to regain his breath.

“You could of course come in my mouth, Daniel.” Max says. He’s still on the floor, hands resting politely on his thighs like his dick isn’t throbbing in his shorts. “It would be very lovely, I think.”

Daniel curses, coaxes him to his feet and against the door instead. Max doesn’t need much to come. Daniel spits in his hand, uses the leftover come to ease the glide of his hand as he jerks him off, makes him add to their mess.

Daniel sits through a two-hour lecture of the implications of data privacy concerns before he drags himself back to the house. He’s splurged on a latte from the campus shop, but he reckons he’s earned it, scrolls through the notes he had scarcely taken.

Blake joins him on the porch, pushes the plate of leftover pizza into the middle seat. “Hey, did that pledge ever get hold of you last night?”

Daniel grunts, swallows down an entire slice in one go. “Pledge?”

The semester has barely started, the pledges won’t be chosen for at least another few weeks. He still has time before he has to pretend to be a functioning adult who doesn’t have hangovers on Wednesdays.

“Yeah, kid’s trying out for the football team or something,” Blake says, watches him with a frown. “He wanted to know when pledge week would be, make sure it didn’t collide with try-outs.”

Daniel drains the rest of his coffee, wishes he had put another pot on before he went out here. He sucks his teeth, thinks back to the party, to Max and his pale thighs, fat lips spread around the head of his dick, the sounds he made when Daniel made him come bent over the bathroom sink. Maybe it had been obvious that the was on the pull, because no pledge had been dumb enough to approach him.

“He’s a Beta Nu legacy, but he wanted to try something new it seemed,” Blake says, shrugs. “Reckon he’s a good kid, Horner put in a good word for him too, so he’ll probably at least pledge.”

Daniel clicks his tongue, turns his hat to shield his eyes from the sun. He had already been in the lecture hall when he saw it, the pair of embroidered boobs against the white fabric, but he had kept it on. “Did he leave a name at least? Maybe I know someone who can find him.”

There are loads of reasons Daniel had declined the presidency when Seb graduated, kicked it to Blake and settled himself with social chair. He just didn’t know fucking a will-be pledge would become one of them.

“Max, I think is name was.”

#dont look at me please #free me from this mind prison :(#frat bro au #maxiel #maxiel fic #my fic #my writing #max/daniel #fic #frat bros au

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rrrrinmaru · 1 month

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rin's side stories: 01 - where rafayel debriefs the flammula

wc: 1.2k rating: G brief: after rafayel's first meeting with mc, he decides to debrief someone he can trust. someone who can't spill his secrets to anyone who can repeat them to mc. notes: gender neutral!mc, fluff, comedy, canon-compliant

“I was rather suave, wasn’t I?”

Silence answers him. The man doesn’t seem deterred—he flips over on his couch, back lying flat on the sofa as one leg crooks at the knee and dangles off the edge.

“See, you might not have gotten a good view of the scene, but I appeared like a knight in shining armor, okay? Exactly like all those fairytales. Picture this, the setting sun, a golden glow sinking over the city like a blanket. The light dancing off the water surface, making everything look iridescent and magical. The soft splashes of you guys, adding to the ambience of the place. It’s quiet. It’s picturesque. Am I painting a good picture for you?”

The red flammula circles around its massive tank. The tank is perched on the reinforced glass table, large enough that it practically takes up all the space. There are small underwater plants swaying with the ripples sent up by the portable water filter attached to the side of the tank. Sand and gravel sit at the bottom, with a few coral stones tossed in to add color to the place.

Inside, the flammula spits out a string of bubbles.

“You don’t get it. So there they were, helpless and shaking, like a seal pup in front of a great white. The setting sun set their hair alight, awash with that orange hue—I really need to paint this before I forget it—and they were just standing there. Their eyes darted around, begging for help, and there I was! Right in their line of sight; tall, handsome, elegant. Offering a comment about your tragic lifespans on land so they know I’m intelligent.”

The flammula hides behind a particularly big rock. On the couch, the figure splutters, sitting upright.

“Dropping an information snippet about the lifespan of aquatic creatures is not boring. It caught their attention. And then I took the net from their loose grip, emboldened by the hopeful gaze in their eyes, and swooped you up in one quick snap of my wrist. Really, you need to be better at running away from nets in the water. Is this how you got caught the first time?”

A long string of bubbles. The flammula swims out just to brush its underbelly against the sand before swimming back up to where the plants are swaying with the ripples.

“After catching you, I proceeded to tell her about your historic legend—”

The flammula winds itself around a long, dark green plant. It flops over, the plant wrapped around it, and pretends to go still.

A hand reaches over, one knuckle knocking in irritation at the side of the tank, right next to where the flammula is.

“A little respect would be deserved,” Rafayel huffs, throwing his head to the side. “I didn’t have to save you, you know. I could have let you live up to your exceedingly short lifespan with the rest of your brethren in that tiny pool, at the mercy of small land children with sticky fingers and unwashed hands.”

The flammula revives long enough to flap a fin at Rafayel and breathe out bubbles before it returns to playing dead.

Rafayel rolls his eyes. “Anyway, they then told me that Hat Island was closed off because of Wanderer sightings. Not that it would have stopped me, if I had really wanted to go, but—hey! This means they were concerned about me, weren’t they?”

The flammula doesn’t respond.

“I mean, I picked a random pamphlet out of that booth near the place just so I had something to do with my hands, but what a stroke of luck!”

Rafayel dips a hand in the water, far enough to gently poke the flammula with the tip of his index finger. “Look alive, comrade. I’m not done here.”

The flammula twists its body, slapping Rafayel’s index finger with its tail.

“They didn’t say it just because I’m a civilian and they were doing their job,” Rafayel shoots back, sounding miffed. “Well, whatever. Let’s move past that to the next important installation of our interaction, wherein I, very handsomely, popped you into the small container they were holding on to.”

A flurry of bubbles rise in the tank. The flammula seems to have a lot to say, reviving once more just to swim accusingly around Rafayel’s hand and bump angrily into his open palm.

“You were not going to die from air exposure. I barely held you out for less than a minute. I wasn’t going to just let you die like that. And you are really detracting from my entire experience, here. Regardless, after you were finally allowed to breathe again, they told me to go to Whitesand Bay. How cute,” Rafayel remarks, a smile pulling at his lips.

The flammula scrapes its body against Rafayel’s fingers, nipping at his fingertips.

“This level of aggression is seriously uncalled for,” Rafayel complains, poking the flammula’s tail. “I’m just trying to tell you about our meeting, and you’re acting like I tossed you into the middle of an oil spill. They told me to go visit Whitesand Bay, you know?”

He points outside the windows lining his wall, tempered glass from ceiling to floor, gesturing at the miles of paper white sand that stretch out before him. “How cute. Maybe I should invite them to walk with me at Whitesand Bay sometime.”

The flammula swings its tail, hitting Rafayel’s fingers. Once it gets the last word in, the flammula swims in a harried manner to the stone cave attached to the side of the tank, clearly ready to hide in there until Rafayel stops bothering it.

“You are no fun,” he tells the flammula, fishing his hand out of the water. There’s a brief flash and fire creeps up his skin, starting from his fingertips and crawling up his palms, the back of his hand, his wrist, his forearm—the flames lick at his elbow, and Rafayel shakes his arm out.

Just as quickly as it appeared, the flames disappear. Rafayel slips his dry palm into his pocket and stands, turning to eye the view from his window. The translucent curtains flutter in the seabreeze, carried in through one of the open windows, and Rafayel tilts his head back, slowly breathing it in.

“I’ll pack the rest of them and send them to where they should be,” he says, eyes closed, face turned to soak in the moonlight filtering through the glass. “I’ll send you along with them, I suppose.”

Bubbles escape the stone cave.

“I’m not in the business of raising dependents,” Rafayel comments, looking back to eye the tank speculatively. “If I do keep you around, historic part of Lemurian culture or not, know that I may or may not end up using you as a midnight snack if I’m feeling peckish.”

No response. Another round of playing dead.

“How interesting,” he murmurs, bending down to tap the glass. “Well, if I ever come up with a use for you, I’ll let you know. Maybe I can trick them into thinking we’re co-parenting you. Heaven knows you need to learn some manners, disobedient punk.”

The thought makes Rafayel smile. They wouldn’t get it; they would likely be confused at the concept of teaching a fish manners, but it’s as good an excuse as any to get them into Rafayel’s home.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #l&ds rafayel #rafayel #恋与深空 #祁煜 #러브앤딥스페이스 #恋と深空 #rin writes l&ds

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heartthrobin · 1 year

Text

cowboy kisses

charlie kelly x fem!reader

wc: 1.2k

warnings: cowboy charlie (s7e1), soft touch-starved charlie, (fake) blood, mention of vomiting, no use of y/n, mac is a jealous baby, fluff, lotsa kissin'

an: i know this is a very niche part of the market but i needed to get it out my system. it's a personal head cannon of mine that Charlie is ace but that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve some kissy kissy and my need to love on him is literally making me a non-functional member of society: so enjoy! remember to reblog and comment to support your favourite writers :3

summary: Charlie makes a handsome cowboy, covered in fake blood or not.

the knock rumbling against your door is almost certainly loud enough to wake up the whole floor of your apartment building. you flinch back against your couch at the sound, flicking off the television that’s been only half entertaining you for the last hour.

“babe! babe!”

even without his calls, you know it’s him. Charlie was the only person who could arrive so unprecedented at your apartment at nearly nine o’ clock at night and not expect a right hook to the jaw as soon as you swing the door open.

you’re halfway to a whisper-yelled “Charlie, keep it down!”, tugging the door open, when you take in the state of your boyfriend.

he’s lively, bouncing on the balls of his feet: hands fidgeting around the orbit of his head. “you won’t believe what happened.”

beyond that, his umber locks are hiding under the reach of a caramel cowboy hat. his chest tucked into a denim vest with a bowler tie flat against it.

most jarring of all is how his whole cowboy get-up and the better half of his face is covered in … is that blood?

“—so then Frank got on one knee and when he proposed, Roxy literally had a heart attack and—“

your boyfriend is still standing out between the hallway and the doorframe, halfway through another outrageous tale that the neighbors are no doubt privy to.

“baby …” your chest tightens and twists in concern. you reach for his face, the blood is caked in his beard but dry to the touch. “you’re covered in blood?”

he quietens at your touch. he usually does. whole body stutters like he’s never been met with a soft hold a day his whole life.

“oh— this? don’t worry, i ate some of these tablet things so i could go on this date with this lady from the internet—“

you’re guiding him gently by the wrist into your apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“you went on a date with a lady from the internet?”

he fumbles, fingers drifting to brush against your palm. “well, not for me. obviously not, i have you—“

nudging him through the apartment to lean against your kitchen sink, which he does without resistance, you laugh lightly. “well, don’t let me hold you back, Charlie.“

his forehead tightens in confusion. you love the look of it on your sweet, sweet boyfriend. the water is cool where you run a rag under it’s stream.

“you know what they say, don’t let your current girlfriend stop you from finding your future wife.” your voice curls at the edge, teasing him, and you’re horrible because you know Charlie is no good on picking up on stuff like that.

he shakes his head, hands nervously scrunching at his sides. your own rise to his head, gently bumping the cowboy hat so that it sits further up his crown and you can start working the wet cloth over the crimson marks on his creased forehead.

“why would— you’re my future wife. aren’t you?” it’s phrased like a fact more than a proposal. a clarification.

Charlie is sometimes the most romantic person on the planet, by no fault of his own. he says things like that with such honesty and quiet conviction that it curls a warm feeling between your organs: like maybe he was the other half every person sets out to find between the throes of fighting general existence. at least yours.

you smile at him. that i’m so fucking sickeningly in love with this doofus kind of smile that seems to set him a little more at ease. his fingers are tentative when they reach for your hips.

“i was just teasing, babe. i’m sorry.”

you’re gentle where you’re dragging the cloth over his skin, working from the top of his face to clean it of blood.

“oh.” he settles. “well anyways, so Roxy has this heart attack: Frank is still on one knee, Mac tries to call 911–!”

Charlie rambles and you listen. at least as well as you can with his less than comprehensible story-telling abilities and his talent for being involved in mostly unbelievable happenings.

the rag has made it’s way to his beard, you’re still trying to work softly: hand under his jaw while the fabric works between strands of wired hair, thumb pressing a bump into the hollow of his cheek.

“so after that we hung up. and i came straight here, cause i wanted to tell you.” he sighs, body slumping with the catharsis of imparting his tale upon you. “Mac said i’m a pussy because i’m always leaving them to come here. but i missed you, and i think he’s kinda jealous cause i have a girlfriend and he doesn’t.”

your hand stills, curling under his chin so your knuckle is steering his face up to yours. “Mac can go suck a dick. and i missed you too, Char.”

he’s the one who presses up for a kiss, eyes still wide and desperate as the day you met. you indulge him happily, squishing your nose against his when your lips meet sloppily and your hands wrap around his neck: pushing him further against the edge of the sink.

Charlie hums and it’s your favourite sound. his hands are lost, but excited where they’re chasing up your back and over your face.

your boyfriend tastes bitter and metallic, like the blood capsules he threw up, but also sweet like the melting packet of caramels he keeps in his jean pocket.

you pull back, brushing your nose against his. his face chases yours: eyes still closed.

“you look so handsome in this little get-up, baby.” sighing, hand twisting into his, you say. “you make a good cowboy.”

he perks up at that, “you should hear my accent! what i said to that lady, so, when she opened the door i said—“

there’s a grumble, like he’s clearing his throat, “—tarnation, you look pretty as a peach. yes you do!”

the accent is crumbly but charming in a way that only your Charlie can make it. he nods, grinning and proud, and you throw your head back to laugh.

you pat fondly over his shoulders, “you’re sure talking a lot about this lady you took on a date while i was sitting home missing you like crazy. was she pretty?”

he guffaws, huffs like you’ve asked him about the weather. “nah. i mean … like, not pretty like you.”

there’s a moment of quiet. he waits to see if he’s said the right thing.

“hmm.” you run a gentle thumb down the side of his face. “you know i don’t like to share.”

you press your chest against his and his breath buckles. his skin is sticky with sweat when you push a kiss into his neck.

“you’re kinda making me all jealous with your story.”

Charlie shakes his head. “you-you shouldn’t be.”

releasing his neck with a pop, briefly grinning at the hickey you’ve painted there, you bump your nose lovingly against his.

“i know.” he’s red with a blush now. “wanna put on a movie and not watch it while we make out on the couch?”

he beams. “hell yeah.”

remember to comment and repost if you enjoyed :)

taglist:

@gremlinb1ke @mydogtypedthis @luigisbroth @newluvcassette @karlmarxpizzaparty

#charlie kelly x reader #charlie kelly fanfiction #charlie kelly iasip #its always sunny in philadelphia #iasip #its always sunny in philadelphia fanfiction #charlie kelly x you #charlie kelly imagine

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callmemaeverick · 2 years

Text

A Match Well-Played [Sherlock Holmes x fem!Reader]

AN: As promised, Part Deux of Dangerous Games! This was tricky to dish out because I intended DG as a oneshot, but you all and your comments gave the the kick in the butt to crank out another, with a third one in the works. As always, non-period compliant, but I do try my best to do some research and by research, I meant I watched Bridgerton.

Part 1

Anywho... Onwards. The game is ON!

It would seem that after that fateful night, you just cannot escape Sherlock Holmes.

You hadn't seen him again after leaving his apartment, especially with the news about the case breaking out the next morning and if you were honest, you were actually grateful for it. It gave you the chance to do what you do best in these kinds of situations; run.

You told yourself that it was late and it had been a long night and the only reason Sherlock acted that way was due to the blood loss. Surely.

And you... well, you were caught up in the moment.

So, promising your aunt that you would visit again soon, you went back to your life, ready to put said man and said moment behind you.

Or so you thought.

xxxx

The sounds of giggling caught your attention and you looked up to see the two young girls that just entered your place of work. Calling out a greeting, you gave them a welcoming smile as you work your way down another set of inventory.

Working in a bookshop was one of the biggest joys of your life. You had loved books ever since your could remember and it was a dream come true to be able to spend countless hours just surrounded by thousands of stories. The owners of the store were an old loving couple and like you, they were avid readers. Together, all three of you had endeavored to cultivate and encourage reading to all of your patrons, especially young children. The store had became your safe haven, your second home, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

It was a busy day that day and as you carefully restocked some of Shakespeare's sonnets into their rightful places, you accidentally caught the whispers.

"I can't believe it's him!" A girl said, her voice giddy.

"He looks even more handsome than the papers made him out to be,"

"I wonder if he'll come in here,"

You smiled at their antics, amused as you recalled that you were once in their shoes, giggling and gushing over a boy. Running your fingers against the spines one last time to make sure they are properly arranged, you left the girls to their gossips and made your way back to the front.

Only for the door to swing open and enter someone you have not seen in a long long time.

The gasp you barely managed to tamp down actually scratched your throat as you whirled quickly and glued your back flat against the side of a shelf, wishing childishly that it would absorb you into the wood. You smiled awkwardly at the shocked looks your customers were giving you, but you dare not move from your spot.

You should have known something was going to happen that day. Ever since you woke, there was this niggling feeling at the back of your head and you just knew it was going to affect your day in the most unwanted way.

And there it was, in the form of your former love.

Royce looked as handsome as the day you last saw him. His dark brown hair combed and coiffed perfectly despite being under a top hat all morning. His eyes glittered in the late evening light as he looked at the young woman at his arm.

Your heart clenched at the smiles they shared, the one on his lips exactly the same as the one once shared with you. The memory of what happened came to the forefront of your mind and you shook your head to block it out. It wasn't anyone's fault, you reminded yourself. People fall out of love sometimes.

Still you couldn't help the anxiety climbing up your throat. You were fine going separate ways so long as you don't have to see him again. That's why you up and left, why you spent a lot of your time visiting your aunt or reading indoors.

But you were working, and you needed to be professional. And your feet refused to move.

"God God. You need to stop this. It's ridiculous!"

"What is?"

You jumped a foot in the air at sudden intrusion and whirled around wildly, only to stop dead facing the man standing right next to you

"Sherlock!" You exclaimed, breathless. Clearing your throat, you eyed the people around you and composed yourself. "Mr. Holmes, what are you doing here?"

Sherlock Holmes narrowed his eyes as he studied you and you did all you could to act nonchalant, as if you did not know what he was doing, as if you didn’t want to disappear off the face of the Earth that very moment. It was a few minutes of uncomfortable silence as you fidgeted under his stare, but as usual, you refused to blink first. Perhaps he wouldn't figure it out.

“Who is he?”

Dash it.

When your jaw clenched involuntarily, you knew you couldn’t hide it from him. Not anymore. You opened you mouth to speak, but to your utter despair, someone beat you to it.

You turned slowly at the call of your name, as if your feet had turned to lead. You straightened your posture from the shelf, brushing off imaginary creases from your skirt before you raised your eyes to meet that of your first love.

“Royce," The smile on your face was tight, but you painted it on nonetheless. "It's so nice to see you again,"

Beside you, Sherlock shifted, as if something about the tone of your voice threw him off. You ignored him.

"You as well," Ever so polite, Royce responded. A beat of uncomfortable, dreadful silence ticked, before he turned to the woman beside him. "Amelia wanted to find some new books to read. She's a notorious reader... very much like you in that aspect."

Hurt lanced through your heart at that statement, that this new woman in his life was so similar to you, but somehow he had chosen her instead. You turned your smile to her, as she too smiled demurely at you. "Well, we have wonderful collections in here. I believe you would find something to your liking, Miss Amelia."

"Why thank you, dear. I just really need to get out of the house today. All this planning for the ball is so tedious, I couldn't stand it."

"The ball?" You asked. There was talk of a ball being held in town in a couple of days, but you hadn't paid much attention.

"Yes. My father insists to have a ball to celebrate my re-entrance into polite society. I have been away, you see. Travelling." She whispered conspiratorially. "I told him there was no need, but he is such a stubborn old man."

Despite everything, you really liked Amelia. Your smile bloomed steadier.

"You must come," She invited. "You and- " Her eyes moved to your left and widened in recognition.

Almost as if a bell dinged in your head, you realized that there was something else you hadn't paid attention to. Someone else, who was silent at your back throughout the last few minutes. "Oh, Royce, Amelia, this is-"

"Sherlock Holmes, Miss Delacourt," Sherlock took her hand and gave it a light kiss. "And we would love to attend your ball."

You stood frozen as the world seem to halt all around you. Your brain struggled to compute what had happened and you could only watch as the woman before you, like any other red-blooded woman around Sherlock Holmes, blushed lightly under his gaze. She shifted almost excitedly as she took him, and you, side by side. "That is splendid, Mr. Holmes. Isn't it splendid, my love?"

Your eyes were wide in surprise as was Royce's was. Clearing his throat, he blinked his shock away and returned his focus to Amelia. "That it is, darling." He looked back at Sherlock, then you, then back to Sherlock. Without your permission, a part of you, a small powerful part you did well to control, wanted to smirk at the look on his face. But you didn't.

He extended his hand to the man beside you. "I will see you there, Mr. Holmes."

The world seemed to be in a daze as the couple took their leave to begin exploring your store. Your head was muggy and your heart was racing. Without another word, you turned away and marched back to the front counter.

Sherlock called your name once, twice and a third time before you spun suddenly to face him. "What have you done?!" You hissed, finally feeling your bottled emotions bubbling to the surface. Your finger poked his chest and you were too close, decorum be damned. "Why would you do that?!"

He stood there in front of you, bodies inches apart, sharing your breath. For a split second, the store was empty and there were only the two of you. You wanted to slap him, yell at him, because how dare he drag you into this. How dare he spoke for you. But then, he inhaled and took a step back. And the world came back to life.

"I'm sorry."

Like a candle in a gust of wind, your ire dissipated. You knew Sherlock Holmes and you knew, you knew for a fact he does not normally apologize. Crossing your arms, you told him to continue.

"I was sent an invitation by Lord Delacourt and my brother-" He sighed, almost annoyed. "My brother insisted that I make an appearance."

You had heard of this mysterious brother. Powerful and protected by the government, and you knew he was the only person who could tell Sherlock Holmes what to do.

"But why drag me into it? You could have gone yourself."

He gave you a look that answered it all and you almost laughed. Sherlock Holmes, detective extraordinaire, cowering at the thought of overzealous mothers looking for a match for their daughters. "Ah, I see... You saw an opportunity and you took it.”

The man had the decency to look admonished. "So will you come?"

You thought about it for a moment, thought about seeing Royce and Amelia and then thought about their reaction to the thought of you and Sherlock. He had accepted the invitation on your behalf, and not showing up will only brought on more questions.

You took another moment to make sure you were committing to this, as there was no turning back. Then you took another moment just to annoy Sherlock.

Which you achieved when he called your name once more.

You sighed. "I can't believe I'm agreeing to this."

"Well then, my Lady,” His smile was the one he has when he cracked a case, and you rolled your eyes. “It looks like we're going to a ball."

TBC

Tagging: @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer, @minecraftravine

#sherlock holmes #henry cavill #enola holmes #henry cavill sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock homes fanfiction #sherlock holmes imagine #dangerous games #mav's posts

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spinningwebsandtales · 5 months

Text

Imagine Going On A Park Date With Steven

Steven Grant x FemReader

Rating: G

Warnings: Slight steam but mostly tooth rotting fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Requested by @the-marshals-wife

(A/N:) If anyone couldn't tell, I had a little too much fun writing this piece! And it is one of the most fluffiest pieces I've ever written! I hope that you enjoy it my beloved friend and to all the other Moon Knight fangirls I hope you enjoy it too! I hope to get more writings up and into my queue as I have some news to share, I'm just waiting on some answers first! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Steven wiped his sweaty hands onto his jacket. He hadn't been this nervous since his first day on the job at the museum. And though he loved history and teaching others, he struggled socially. Then he met you. Perfect and kind and an absolute dream. It had been that first encounter in front of the dinosaur section that him tripping over his feet, more so than usual. It wasn't until your beaming smile had his racing heart calming and him quickly agreeing to your invitation to coffee.

After that simple outing for coffee, Steven had begun to realized how much more often you were hanging out around the museum. Runs for coffee, turned into unexpected lunch meetups, and walks to a bakery for a quick sweet treat. This was the first official date between you two, and Steven had been the one to buck up enough courage to ask. And now he was standing here at the park entrance sweating profusely as he waited for you to join him. After he heard of the small festival happening in the local park and how you enjoyed little get togethers like this, he was more than happy to do something a little out of his comfort zone when it came to you. So he prepared himself and wore his best but comfortable clothing.

"Steven!"

Your voice had him quickly looking up and the sight of you had him wiping his hands once again, this time on his pants. His throat tightened at the sight of you in a modest sundress that flowed gently around your ankles, comfortable flats with freshly painted toenails on display, and a sun hat that protected you from the sun.

"Sorry I'm late," you panted while adjusting your small bag. "Traffic was bogged down on main street. I barely got through."

Steven shook his head, still completely speechless. Your head tilted, concern in your bright eyes as he still hadn't said a word. Feeling like the most awkward being alive, Steven cleared his throat trying to dislodge the words he wanted to say.

"You look absolutely amazing," he finally said. You laughed making him blush bright crimson as he realized he didn't reply to your lateness.

"Thank you," you replied taking everything in stride. "You look handsome as per usual."

Steven stammered, scrounging around in his bag he quickly pulled out a little box of chocolates. The edges a little bent from being stuffed inside his crammed bag.

"These are for you!"

"Oh chocolates," you took the box gratefully. "We'll share these later!"

He nodded before offering out his hand. You took it seemingly unaware of how badly he was sweating. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze and lead the way through the park gateway. People seemed to be everywhere, but it wasn't where the crowd was overwhelming. A couple bands played at each end of the park and in between was different vendors. Some sold food, several advertised different games for prizes, and a few scattered around were selling chances to win more advanced prizes. To your glee there was a stand selling snowcones, but you wanted to leave that for last. Right now you just wanted to enjoy finally having a fun date with Steven Grant.

The whole place a whirlwind of color had Steven dazed, the only anchor was your hand guiding him along. In moments you both had made it halfway through the park, trying to decide what you both would like to do first. Steven wasn't much for the more physical games, but he could outdo anyone in a trivia game. You managed to rope him into playing a ring toss game with you. With a basket of rings before each of you, you both proceeded to toss the rings towards the bottles set up in a wooden box. The clink of the glass bottles had his heart racing faster and in a blink of an eye, the rings were gone and he was no closer to a prize. You on the other hand were able to ring two bottles for a couple smaller prizes. You were handed a couple of small keychains, one a smiling sun and the other a sleepy looking moon. Both adorable in appearance, you couldn't help but grin.

"Here," you held out the moon keychain towards Steven.

"I didn't win it though," he stepped away.

"I know but I want to give it to you," stepping closer as he backed away. "You give me moon vibes so I think you should have it."

Steven reluctantly took the keychain, "I'm supposed to be winning you prizes."

"Real couples share the burdens," you kissed his cheek before leading him to another game a few feet away.

His cheek tingled where your lips made contact and he promised himself in that moment that he would win at least one thing to give to you. He never felt more determined until now.

Three games later and you both found a bench to sit at and take a break. It was this moment Steven revealed the little galaxy patterned bear, that he had won at a rubber duckie game, while you had waited in line for a couple bottles of water.

"Now I get to the gentleman and return the favor," he boasted with a small grin.

You gasped taking it gently from his hands and gripped it to your chest, "It's so cute! Thank you Steven!"

"It's nothing that special."

You gasped playfully punching him in the shoulder, "Shut up yes it is! I shall name him Stevie and he will be my bestest mate!"

Steven suddenly took great interest in his shoes, "I hope he doesn't take my spot then."

Noticing his blush, you gently reached down to take his hand and threading your fingers together. Steven's head jerked upward, from his nose to his ears a pretty bright pink.

"I don't think anyone could take your place Steven," you replied gently.

With sudden bravery, to which he had no idea where it came from, Steven leaned in closer. His nose brushed against the stray hairs that had escaped from your hat, tickling him. Your breath hitched at his gentle caresses on your fingers. You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat as his lips pressed against your cheek tenderly. You leaned in closer, your eyes closing, letting Steven do whatever he liked. You could trust him and you knew he would never take advantage of you.

"No one could take your place either," he replied, his warm breath puffing against your now blushing cheek. He clapped his hands, startling you from the searing moment. "How about a snowcone? You've been eyeing the stall since we got here."

"What about dinner," you whispered.

"Life's too short not to have dessert first," he replied matter-of-factly.

You laughed, "Who am I to argue with the master historian?"

Steven stood up from the bench and once more offered you his hand, "Shall we milady?"

"We shall," you agreed heartedly and took his hand. Deep down inside you knew that taking his hand in this moment meant something more. You felt like you both were taking your first steps into something more, bigger, and beyond either of your understanding. But you felt a giddiness taking over. As long as you got to explore this future hand in hand with Steven, you couldn't help but feel like everything would turn out just right. You gave his hand a little extra squeeze and as he looked at you with knowing eyes, you knew he felt the same way as you.

#Steven Grant X Reader #Steven Grant / Reader #Steven Grant #Moon Knight #Steven Grant Imagine #Moon Knight Imagine #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing #Request

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